#or if anyone wants to tell me where you're getting such high definition raws i would not say no to that lol

[coquelicoq]

i am incapable of doing anything of import today on account of the lethargies so i was just gonna bang out some text post edits but lads these screencaps are looking. not good. bad. very bad. graininess below even my aesthetic standards which are already pretty low. like what even is this.

my guy barely has facial features. i can't do this to him. i can't.

[ghosttownwherenoonegoes]

Feel free to ignore this but I know you'd understand, so...my inbox is filling with anons making fun of me and calling me a freak for mourning Eddie's death and invalidating my grief which frankly is hilarious because they're definitely in their Jason Carver era without even realizing it 😂 I blocked them all but holy shit, the toxic people have found me at last...

Sorry for the mini-rant, as I said, feel free to ignore but I needed to get this off my chest somewhere where I knew I wouldn't start another round of screaming-and-waving-pitchforks-at-me for grieving 😅

Anyways, thank you for listening and I hope you're having a lovely day/evening🖤

Kiki !!!!

I'm.... oh, what the fuck????

First, let me give you a biiiiiiiiiiig one'a these from Eddie:

Your grief is real. Your grief is valid. Your grief is yours and NO ONE should EVER tell you that your emotions are anything BUT. If grief is the price of love, then with Eddie it's a very high cost, but it's so worth it. Eddie is worth it. He may not be 'real' but the love you feel for him is, the grief is. The people in their Jason Carver eras are insecure in themselves, jealous of you for being so free and open with your emotions. They're just too immature and/or too up their own asses to be able to do the same, and they see you being yourself as a threat to their own selves, which.... says more about them than it does about you.

I'm so sorry, Kiki. You don't at ALL deserve any of this and I'm genuinely very angry on your behalf. These people better NOT call themselves fans of Eddie because he would actively DESPISE them and he would stay as far away from them as he could. They're all a bunch of assholes but YOU are a ray of sunshine. You're always so loving and kind and gentle and open and raw in your emotions and it's honestly inspiring. I wouldn't have found the courage to watch Stranger Things at ALL, let alone meet Eddie, without YOU answering my questions and coaxing me into it. We all know I took my sweet time.😂

Please please vent and rant and scream and cry; I'm here to listen to you and to anyone else. Your love is valid and real, so is the grief, so is the pain and the loss. It's all real and valid; our brains see Eddie, see his death, and grieve just like it's real, because it is real. I'm so proud of you for blocking them! It's horrible that there's even been one person, let alone so many.💔I'm here if you want to talk! You can DM me or send an ask or anything at all! (Been wanting to befriend you since the Laszlo Kriezler days but I am a shy noodle)

Let yourself grieve and love and feel - Eddie would tell you to. He would tell you to feel everything as you want to, to let yourself have this time to process, to express it however it comes to you, and to feel NO shame in it. He never does and it goes beautifully for him to live life with his arms wide open to anyone brave enough to get close.🥺💖 I hope YOU'RE gonna have a better day/evening, KIki!! I'm here if you want a comfort fic (though I've written a few already and I have one coming out tonightttt ~ , they're all Eddie!comfort so it probably wouldn't hit as well as reader!comfort🥺)

Big hugs & Eddie kissies to you!

[fakeikemen]

The "Cave of Two Lovers" foreshadows the Zutara interactions in "Crossroads of Destiny"

[And maybe after that too; (yeah this part will be purely based on speculation)]

(See also: A meta that everybody has already written but I haven't because I was living under a rock and watched Avatar very recently)

Like seriously, it is so obvious? I see people try to interpret "The Legend Of Oma and Shu" in so many other ways; like yeah, you're free to interpret it however you want but— most people try to make sense of it while thinking that the tale is just a random occurrence? But it's not.

And here's why:

(I'm so sorry, I tried to add the "keep reading" link here because this gets kinda long but it just won't work) (Also click on the pictures if you want better resolution).

The tale of Oma and Shu is about two lovers who belonged to villages that were at war against each other. To continue meeting each other, they learnt earthbending to create caves in the mountain that divides the two villages. But one day Shu didn't come to the caves. He'd died in the war. So Oma unleashed a terrifying display of her power. And then when people were willing to listen to her, she called off the war and strived for peace between both the villages. As a result the city of Omashu was created— as a monument in remembrance of their love.

So in comparison:

1. Two people belonging to the opposite sides of the war

(Other than the 100 year old war that has been going on, Zuko and Katara are involved in a very fundamental conflict: Capture the Avatar Vs. Protect the Avatar.)

2. With the same colour scheme:

3. Share intimate moments in a cave lit by green crystals:

A popular argument for this comparison is that; Oma and Shu had a positive impressions of each other when they first met. Unlike Zuko and Katara where Katara's first impression of Zuko was pretty negative because he invaded her village.

Zuko and Katara's first proper conversation happens in "Crossroads of Destiny" i.e.; the scene I'm talking about here. After this interaction that they have, I think it's safe to say that they did have positive impressions of each other. (Until Zuko made the wrong choice.)

Other than that, about the colour scheme being a coincidence: Here and here are posts by @marsreds about how the colours are definitely not a coincidence.

But seriously guys? Oma and Shu were the FIRST EARTHBENDERS and yet, instead of greens and yellows they were designed with RED and BLUE?!? (I'll take about Oma's green dress below.)

And on that note, why were Zuko and Katara the only ones who were thrown into the catacombs when everybody else was being held at the dungeons? The dungeons wouldn't have been easy to escape, neither for Zuko nor for Katara.

It's because Zuko and Katara were meant to share an intimate moment in a cave that was supposed to jog our visual memory to remind us of the caves built by Oma and Shu.

(Seriously though, I wasn't really paying attention during CoTL and thought that the Omashu legend was just put in to consume screen time, so I missed the red/blue thing. But then I watched CoD and saw the catacombs and I was like: "Isn't this like that cave made by the lovers?" And then I proceeded to have an oh shit moment because, I knew that Zutara was not canon so I never even considered the possibility of the narrative hinting at anything between them but then this happened. I mean, it's pretty darn obvious).

The colour of the crystals being the same in both caves is no coincidence either— if they just wanted two random caves with crystals, then they could've used a different colour because crystals of different colours exist:

Moving on,

The Visual Cues:

According to the colour coding Zuko = Oma (red) and Katara = Shu (blue).

So,

EXHIBIT A:

I feel like this one speaks for itself.

(I personally think that in this parallel Oma is in red because Katara at this point still sees Zuko as the face of the Fire Nation.)

EXHIBIT B:

This sequence of frames show Oma (dressed in green, like Zuko was in the catacombs) and Shu (dressed in his usual blue), standing on neutral territory and reaching out to each other and then being torn apart by the war.

Pretty much like:

The first time they are in each other's presence without the cause of their conflict (i.e. the Avatar), Zuko and Katara reach out to each other empathetically and attain bone deep understanding of each other within a matter of minutes. This whole encounter is in Ba Sing Se, which counts for the neutral territory because it hadn't been completely taken over by Fire Nation at that point.

And honestly? The raw vulnerability and intimacy of this scene and the high emotional energy of their powerful dynamic is just— wow. (I put off my binging spree for a whole day because I didn't have the heart to see Zutara not become canon after all of this.)

And soon after, Zuko and Katara face each other in battle, their tentative friendship torn apart, as they fight from their respective sides of the war.

EXHIBIT C:

Whenever Oma and Shu appear in the same frame during the visualization of the legend, Oma is always on the left half of the frame and Shu is on the right.

Similarly, throughout all their interactions in the Catacombs, whenever the frame exclusively includes Zuko and Katara, Zuko (like Oma) is on the left half of the frame and Katara (like Shu) is on the right.

The parallels (or foils rather):

#1

In CoTL, we see Song who is a healer (cures Iroh of his poisoning). She mentions that she hasn't seen her father since a Fire Nation raid took place in her village. Zuko empathises with her and says that he too hasn't seen his father in a long while. But then he refuses to say anything else about it.

Later Song tries to reach out to Zuko and tries to touch his scar— which Zuko prevents her from. She shows Zuko her own scars to show that she understood him.

And yet, Zuko doesn't open up to her.

After a while of life-changing and eye-opening experiences, in CoD, when Katara has her meltdown and cries while saying that her mother was snatched away from her by the Fire Nation; Zuko sees an opening to offer an olive branch and he takes it, he empathises with her and tells her that how his mother was snatched away by the Fire Nation as well.

Then Zuko opens up to Katara in a show of complete vulnerability. He openly talks about his scar and what he feels about it. In response, Katara offers to heal his scar and then Zuko lets her touch his scar.

It was nothing but a deliberate choice to make Song slightly parallel Katara (a healer, lost a parent because of the war) and then making Zuko not open up to her and not let her touch the scar, only for Katara to be the one he opened up to and allowed to touch the scar.

#2

After being trapped with Aang in the cave in CoTL and sharing an intimate moment with him, as soon as they find their way out, Katara runs straight ahead without looking back.

But after her time with Zuko, trapped in the Catacombs in CoD, while leaving she turns back to look at Zuko.

Judging by the amount of time the animation puts into showing us Aang's disappointment at Katara running off and into making it clear that Katara did look back at Zuko and that Zuko looked right back at her, to me, it feels like the choice to show this was pretty deliberate.

(Turning back to look at a person while leaving is a romantic trope that has been overused to death? Or is it just bollywood?)

Also I wouldn't have paid this much attention to this small detail if not for the fact that just a hint of the Omashu legend theme is played here?

No, I swear I'm not making it up.

The Omashu legend theme is used in CoD:

The Omashu legend theme is largely dominated by the music of a stringed instrument (forgive me, I don't know what it's called) alongwith a steady melody playing in the background.

In CoD, when Katara and Zuko start conversing for real, (i.e.; when Katara says: "I'm sorry I yelled at you.") what sounds like a variation of the background melody in the Omashu legend theme, starts its subtle ascent as the background score, but sans the music of the stringed instrument.

It is when Katara says: "Maybe you could be free of it." [About Zuko's scar], when then first hint of the stringed instrument is heard. It is only a single note of the strings but it's there. And this "single note" sound keeps on repeating at regular intervals with the melody building up until Aang and Iroh burst into the catacombs.

But then, when Katara is leaving with Aang and she turns back to look at Zuko, this time the music that plays for a few seconds at best, is dominated by the stringed instrument again and this time it's unmistakable.

Also I don't think this music is used anywhere else in the course of the whole show? So it can't really be a coincidence? But I don't really know. I'm saying this on the basis of as far as my memory can reach.

And this is as far as canon stands testimony to what I am trying to say here.

But what about the second half of the story yk, the dying thing, you say?

Well this is where the speculations come in.

Speculation Time:

#1

As a thumb rule, a romance foreshadowed by a tragic tale is meant to have a happy ending.

So this time when Katara's (Shu) life is in danger (Azula's lightning bolt), Zuko (Oma) steps in at the nick of time to save her life (by jumping infront of Katara to intercept the lightning).

(Since I have crossed the limit of images in a post, here is a post by @araeph which illustrates this point.)

Yes, I am completely aware that Zuko taking the lightning bolt for Katara is not his declaration of love for her. What I mean to say is that the whole scene was so very painfully obviously romantically framed (the immediate change in music when Zuko realises where the lightning bolt was headed, both of their expressions, Zuko's agonized "Nooooo", the slow-mo throughout the shot).

I am also aware that Zuko would've taken the lightning bolt for anyone. But it is the narrative that demands that Zuko take the lightning bolt for Katara and Katara only. Because this has atleast 10 different payoffs (a direct callback to the Book 2 finale where Azula had shot Aang with the lightning; the grief of which was for Katara to bear but this time Zuko himself stands between the lightning and Katara instead of being the silent spectator, the culmination of both Zuko and Katara's personal character arcs, Zuko's scar would parallel Aang's: Aang got it because he chose Katara over the world and Zuko got it because he was willing to give up the world to save Katara, etc, etc).

Tl;dr: The lightning scene wouldn't hold all that much weight if it wasn't Zuko taking the hit for Katara because the narrative literally demands it.

#2

This is where we start wading into really murky waters.

From mucking around on Tumblr due to Zutara feels™, I came across this post where some of the ideas for Book 4 were written:

• The Southern Water Tribe experienced the longest series of attacks from the Fire Nation. Zuko and Katara become political partners and work together to help end the animosity and repair relations between their two nations.

• Just like how Zuko learned to appreciate the Earth Kingdom, he would learn to appreciate the Water Tribes. Katara also learns to respect the complexity of Fire Nation culture. There is no such thing as an “evil” nation.

And that basically means that Zuko and Katara would've been working together to de-escalate the hostility between their respective nations and improve the relations between the two nations, while learning about each other's cultures simultaneously as the world would be in the process of being rebuilt after the war and they would be major role-players in shaping the new world.

Which is quite similar to how Oma strived for peace between the two villages and then as a result of the improved relations between the villages, the city of Omashu was built as a monument to the love story of Oma and Shu; which might just be symbolic of building a new world where both the villages could live in peace due to the initiative taken by Oma on behalf of herself and Shu.

The story would've come a full circle; that's all I'm saying.

If you've stuck around for this long, thank you for taking the time to read this long ass post with points that you may already have read ♥️

[albdodaze]

blooming. y.itadori

‘i will never, never leave you’ (chapter three)

warnings: none

context: IN WHICH kami gojo, younger sister of certain powerful jujutsu sorcerer, meets an idiot who makes cold barrier around her heart melt.

"Roppongi my ass," laughed Kami, looking at the abandoned old building they were standing in front of.

"There's a curse here," stated Satoru.

"You liar!"

"This isn't even Roppongi!"

"You were toying with us country folk!"

"There's a big cemetery nearby. The double whammy of that and an abandoned building brought out a curse," Satoru said, not taking his eyes off the building.

"So they really do pop up more often around graves?" Itadori asked as Nobara shouted evil in the background.

"The issue isn't the cementery itself," Yuuji's head turned abruptly towards Kami, who finally spoke up and a blush came over his face that he didn't even notice.

But Satoru did.

"It's the fact that people associate cemeteries with fear," Kami explained, totally oblivious.

"Oh, it was the same for schools, too, wasn't it?" Yuuji replied, ignoring the heat that flooded him at the sound of the younger Gojo's soft voice.

"Hold up. He didn't even know that yet?" Nobara asked, approaching from Kami's left.

—

"He swallowed a special-grade cursed object? Gross! Unbelievable! That's so unsanitary and disgusting! No way, no way, no way, no way!"

"This is what I was telling them the whole time," deadpanned Kami, and Nobara grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

"They thought otherwise?!" She exclaimed and leaned her head against Kami's shoulder, groaning at the thought of this. Kami patted her lightly on the head, glad that finally someone understood her.

"What?!"

"I agree with them," Fushiguro said.

"I want to know what all of you are capable of. Just think of this as a field test," Satoru finally spoke up. "Nobara, Yuuji, you two go exorcise the curse inside that building."

"Geh!"

"Huh? But I thought only curses could exorcise curses, right?" Asked a confused Yuuji. "I can't use any jujutsu yet."

"You're basically half a curse already. There's cursed energy flowing throughout your body. Though controlling that energy isn't something you can learn overnight," Satoru said and extended his hand towards Kami, who with a sigh pulled a weapon from the strap tied across her waist and handed it to him. "So use this."

"It's the cursed tool, Slaughter Demon. It's a weapon imbued with cursed energy. It'll work on curses, too," Kami explained as Itadori marveled at the weapon in his hand.

"Lame," Nobara said, and she and Itadori headed towards the building.

"Oh one more thing! Don't let Sukuna out! If you use him, you'll get rid of all the curses nearby in a flash, but you'll also drag everyone around into it."

"Got it, I won't let Sukuna out."

—

"I think I'll go, too," Megumi spoke up after a moment of silence.

"Don't push yourself. You're still recovering."

"But someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?"

"True. But the one we're testing this time is Nobara."

"But don't you think leaving her with Itadori is kinda stupid? I mean, he's kinda... reckless," Kami spoke up, playing with her long hair.

"Also true. That Yuuji... He's missing a few up here," the older Gojo said, pointing to his head. "He has no hesitation when it comes to killing these tings that take form of living creatures, albeit bizzare-looking ones, to try to kill him. And it's not like he's been familiar with curses for a long time, like you two. This boy used to live a normal high school life."

'Normal.' What is normal? Did Kami ever experience or will ever experience something 'normal'?

"You've seen plenty of jujutsu sorcerers, even those with talent, give up in frustration because they couldn't conquer their fear or disgust, haven't you?"

'It will probably be me,' Kami thought, listening to what her brother was saying.

"So today I want to confirm how crazy she is."

Silence.

No one said anything, no one dared to say anything. Because what would they have?

Kami played with her fingers out of nervousness. And she didn't know if it was because of how awkward the silence was, or because she was afraid for the two inexperienced jujutsu sorcerers who were about to face the curses alone in an abandoned building. Maybe it was because of both.

'Or more by the second one,' she thought as she saw the curse fly out the window.

"I'll exorcise it,' Megumi said, looking at the curse.

"Hold on."

Not a few seconds passed, and the curse was gone. It had evaporated. There was nothing left of it but a dirty memory.

"Nice."

"She's crazy, all right," Satoru said smiling.

—

"I live over there! Thanks again!" Exclaimed the boy whom Nobara and Itadori had rescued in the building and whom they had just escorted home, making sure he got there safely.

The Gojo siblings waved the boy away, Kami letting out a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding in. The white-haired girl felt a hand on her shoulder and lifted her gaze to look at her brother, who was grinning at her.

"Are you hungry?" He asked and started to lead them to where three of her classmates were waiting for them.

"A little, I haven't eaten anything all day," Kami said and put her arm through her brother's waist, leaning against him gently.

"Good Joseph!" Shouted Satoru suddenly, directing this to the three waiting on the stairs. "We made sure the kid got home."

Nobara and Itadori sprang to their feet and stood, prepared for the next mission.

"Now shall we go grab some food?"

"Steak!"

"Sushi!"

"Not again," Kami muttered under her breath, and Satoru laughed softly.

"Leave it all to me!" Her brother shouted. "And you, Megumi?"

Megumi didn't answer anything, being too busy playing some game on her phone.

Without waiting for anyone, Satoru put his hands on Itadori and Nobara's shoulders and started walking in the opposite direction, leaving Megumi and Kami alone behind.

'Ouch,' thought Kami as she saw Satoru laughing with Itadori and Nobara.

"Are you coming?" She heard Megumi's voice who smiled gently at her.

Kami reciprocated the gesture and ran to his left, following the rest.

"Oh, I forgot about my biggest haul of the day," Nobara began, walking in front of the rest. " Hey, you," she pointed to Itadori. "Go fetch my stuff."

"Huh? Why should I do it? I thought we were even."

"We won thanks to my cursed energy. Got a problem with that?"

"What about my raw strength?"

"Your monstrous power from eating weird shit?"

"It's not just that! Right, Fushiguro?"

Silence.

"Huh? What's the matter, Fushiguro?"

"Nothing."

"He's pouting because he didn't get to join in," Satoru spoke up.

"What a child!" Nobara said.

Itadori started laughing, definitely happy. After all, he finally had someone to get along with. And when everyone else joined in, it made his heart fill with warmth even more. But not quite. He didn't hear the laughter he most wanted to hear.

He lifted his gaze to Kami, who was staring dead at him, the corners of her mouth not even lifting for a moment. And that made something in his heart hurt.

Satoru wasn't blind either and noticed something was wrong, slowing his step to walk beside Kami.

"Are you okay?" He asked, leaning over her so only she could hear him.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kami raised an eyebrow.

Satoru watched her closely, observing her every little movement. The way her hands tangled at the back of her body, her fingers playing with themselves. The way her gaze fled everywhere but at anyone beside her. The way you could see her nervously biting her lip and cheeks from the inside. The way she was so tense.

Satoru laughed softly, knowing what's going on and wrapped his long arm around Kami, pulling her close and kissing her gently on the top of her head, a thing he always did when she was sad and a thing that always helped.

This time was no different as Kami closed her eyes, relaxing a bit.

"After all, you know that no one can replace you for me, you're my little sister, no one could do it," Satoru whispered and reached out his little toe, wrapping it around Kami's one, getting at least serious for a moment before returning to his previous state and tickling Kami on her sides where she was most ticklish.

Kami jumped back with a squeal and threw an evil but amused look at her brother, who only winked at her and started laughing, matching Megumi's step.

The little girl's loud laughter rang through the yard behind the house as her older brother tickled her on the ground, laughing along with her. When he finally stopped, the white-haired girl looked at her brother and smiled widely.

"Satoru?"

"Hm?" The white-haired boy replied, falling onto his back next to his little sister and looking at her.

"Will you promise me something?" The girl asked, sitting down on the ground, crossing her petite legs.

Satoru nodded, also sitting down on the ground. The girl giggled softly and extended her hand towards her brother, showing her tiny little finger.

"Promise me you'll never leave me."

Satoru's face fell, and his heart simultaneously hurt and flooded with warmth. Because on one hand, what had it come to that a six year old girl would think anyone would leave her, and on the other hand, this was one of the most adorable scenes he could ever experience.

After a moment of silence, Satoru smiled softly and wrapped his, large compared to his sister's, finger around hers and rested his forehead against Kami's forehead, looking her straight in the eyes.

"I will never, but never leave you. After all, you know that no one can replace you for me, you're my little sister, no one could do it," he said seriously, never letting go of her finger from his as he felt tears coming to his eyes.

He quickly closed his eyelids and pulled his younger version to him, who immediately snuggled into her warm and loving brother.

"I will never, never leave you."

At the mention, Kami's eyes welled up with tears, which she quickly wiped away and pretended everything was ok.

'Then why does it feel like you're distancing yourself from me now? Like you're not proud of me? Like you want to leave me, just like everyone else?'

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Trouble Makers

Pairing: Teen!Sam W. x Teen!Reader

Pov: Sam

Warnings: Fluff, Sam, making trouble, kissing, teenage love, Getting into trouble.

Summary: All the two of them is getting into trouble and each other.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is just cuteness, with a teenager Sam, straight fluff between Sam and the reader. Also written for band-psychos 1.5 followers bingo writing challenge 2021.

Square: Late night adventure

Sam Winchester Master list

Main Master list

Taglist: @band--psycho @sweetdetectivequeen @wonderfulworldofwinchester

"Come on Sam, hurry your ass up!" Y/n said half screaming and half whispering at me from the window. I grumbled and moved in my bed.

"Sam, you promised we'd go out tonight!" She whispered. I tossed in my bed before throwing the sheets away from my warm body. I had worn my previous day's clothes to bed, knowing that Y/n would be at my window way too early.

"Quiet down, give me a second," I said pushing my sneakers on and standing up. She stood in front of my window, leaving it open just a bit for her. She danced outside the window and gave me a look of excitement.

I grabbed my cell phone and jumped out of the window. It was more chiller than I anticipated. Y/n dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a fluffy long sweater. It was cute. She looked warm as she danced and moved in front of me. She hummed with her eye closed barely missing bumps in the sidewalk, or garbage in the street.

"Y/n watch out would ya'" I said running to catch up with her. I have known Y/n since we were little kids that played in the sandbox at school. Basically growing up with each other. Both of us school being smart, and street smart with people.

She was the type of girl that dressed up for homecoming and graduation but at her heart, she was a full-out tomboy. She is beautiful she stops in the road turns and swings to look at me. Her smile only becomes bigger as she remembers that I'm behind her.

Today at school I had promised Y/n during our second period ap class. She had already been begging me for the last week. Texting me during the week.

"Y/n since you're the one who wanted to go out. What are your plans for tonight?" I asked, looking over at her. Without missing a beat, "Yeah, I have an idea. With it being two in the morning, I was thinking we could go to the old arcade place down on western street." She said smiling, with begging eyes behind that smile.

Whatever you want Y/n, you know all you gotta do is ask me and I'll give it to you. What else would I do for you? Anything to see that bright smile in the light of the moon. Anything to be the boy... man that makes you feel like you're at the top of the world.

"We can figure it out, Y/n," I said taking her hand in mine. We usually walked around for a few hours before getting into trouble wherever we would, or we could possibly never be found out about.

We walked down the street, hands together clasped together like she never wanted to let go of me. It was that homey feeling. The feeling of knowing no matter what else is going on outside, or maybe just around our bubble. Nothing is messing with our moments together.

I'd like to think that's why sometimes we don't get caught. That's the best feeling. But regardless of that, let me tell you of the night that I got into some trouble with my dear Y/n.

We had finally made our way to the arcade. No cars parked outside, and all the lights were out. This was the same building that was lit up during the day and always had a full parking lot in front. It was also the place that Dean would take me most of the time when he had a girl or girls over at the house.

I had all the high scores on the speed racing machines, and I knew all the right patterns for getting the most tickets. The number of tickets I'd have by the end of the day was shocking. The times that I'd gone up to the front desks and claimed my prizes were great.

But that was outweighed by the times that with said tickets I had taken soft animals and stupid little items for Y/n. No, we weren't dating, but yes how much I wished I could have her for my own. take care of her like she's supposed to be.

Y/n had become my friend in a science class. Dean had introduced her to a douchebag, which ended up breaking her heart. Since then Y/n has come to me every time a boy has hurt her, but I've never been harsh and rude about the things she tells me I just console her and do what 'friends' are supposed to do.

'Friends' aren't supposed to fall for each other. They aren't supposed to wake up at two in the morning to break into a building just so she can have some midnight fun.

Y/n hasn't dated anyone in a long while, but the fear of her doing so is raw and harsh for me. Afraid that I'll have to pick up the pieces again, repair her and not kill that guy that broke her down yet again. I just wish.

I wish that she be smart enough to see that she has an amazing guy standing right next to her already. There's no need to go searching through the pit of bad guys, or guys that just want her body for sex.

I don't want those things right now... I just want her heart, I want her beautiful mind. To realize that she isn't missing out because I'm already there for her.

Regardless of that, we had arrived at the old arcade building. Y/n pulled a bobby pin from her hair one that was already there in case she needed it. She was much the female version of macgyver.

Lock picking the front door wasn't that hard. But having Y/n over my shoulder only made me feel hot, it was a weird feeling. My body could feel her eyes tracing down my body.

Down my spine, it tingled. Back up to my neck. it was so strange. I wonder if this is how Y/n feels when my gaze gets stuck on her in school, or just when she's walking in front of me.

"Sammy, you brought the quarters right?" She questioned me as I shut the door after letting her walk in first. "Come on Y/n you know I always do," I said, locking the door just in case.

Going to machines first, she grasped m hand and pulled me with her. Her hands were so soft and warm. They were much smaller than mine. But you ever get that feeling where something is just right, I wonder if Y/n feels it too?

"Come on Sammy, please!" She said as I handed her the quarters for the stupidest game they had. Pac man. The game that Y/n had a strong love/hate relationship with. Her love for the design of the game, but her hate for how she could never get past my high score.

"Sammy go play a game before the sun comes up and we have to leave." She said turning her head slightly to glare at me. "No, Y/n I think I'll stay right here," I said with a cock tone.

"Yeah stay here and watch me fail."She said rolling her eyes before going back to the game. She tried four times before giving up and grabbing my hand once again leading me towards the ski ball area.

"Mr. Kay has really kicked up this area," I said looking at the different colored machines and how many he really did have. She looked around a raised eyebrow before opening my hand and taking the necessary number of quarters and starting a game.

Let me remind you we were doing this all in the dark. She giggled as the balls dispensed. She was thought just a second early causing her fingers to get in the way of the balls. "Shit." I turned around

"What? Did you... Are you okay?" I said stumbling across my words. "Yeah I'm fine Sammy, the balls just hit my fingers." She said as I held her hand in my own inspecting her fingers. Before kissing them all individually.

When I looked up she was blushing and smiling. My actions now processing in my head. "I'm so sorry, I didn't... I'm..." "Sammy it's okay, you know if I had a problem with something I'd most definitely tell you." She said patting my cheek gently, before going back to her game.

I felt so hot, so warm, so in love. Is that possible to fall in love with someone just by what they say. Because if so, that's what had just happened.

when Y/n had finished that game. I couldn't help but let my hands roam, they roamed up her back, up her spine, just behind her neck. "Sam? What?" She started to talk.

But I think she might have got lost in my eyes, or maybe in the moment. IOnce her eye met mine, I couldn't help but kiss her, bring her lips closer to me.

Y/n let me guiding her lips towards my own. She plump kissable lips towards me. She at this moment looked so beautiful, so perfect. The sun was starting to come in from the big glass-paned windows. It laid nicely across her face and her body.

Once our lips did finally meet. It felt like magic if that's even possible. Her hands coming up to grasp my face, mine falling down to her hips, pulling her closer to my body.

"Y/n" I breathed out, turning her in my grasp before I gently laid her down onto one of the used ski-ball machines. She moaned into our kiss, but unfortunately, there's a thing call air. And we both so desperately needed it.

We stayed in this position for a moment catching our breath, but not before we could get any further. The light of the building turned on, I was so dazed and stuck in the gaze of Y/n sweet eyes. I didn't hear the click of the old man's shoes against the tile floor.

"Excuse me?" I heard. In the slipt of a second, I was off of Y/n and standing, as if I had just been caught by my father. "I'm so sorry Mt. Kay. We'll be leaving now. I'm so sorry, please don't tell my father." I jumbled out, grabbing Y/n's hand to pull her up.

He took one look at Y/n and me. He smiled and spoke in a rather harsh voice. "I did feel like I had forgotten somethin' last night. You two are fine. I remember sneakin' away with my girl many years ago. And don't fear, Sammy I won't be tellin' anyone." Mr. Kay said waving us off.

I could feel Y/n's heartbeat in her hand. We walked out the front door, the sun beaming just over the peak of the trees. We walked in silence before Y/n spoke, "You know I thought that was going to worse than it did." She said, our hands still clasped together.

Her hair a wreck since I had run my hand through it while making out with her. "We finally got caught," I said, looking forward. The number of mixed emotions going on in my body right now was confusing the hell out of me.

"Sam?" She said. "Sam, what's going in your mind? I can see the steam pouring out of your ears." She said trying to make me laugh. "Sam please talk to me?" She said tugging on my hand.

"Y/n... I'm sorry." Her eyebrows bent inward. "What? You've.. Huh?" She said stopping in her spot. " I'm sorry that I just kiss you like that, and that we got caught."

She just smiled and rolled her eyes. "Stop apologizing, I liked you kissing me." She said stepping closer to me, a most likely dumbfounded expression. "Close your lips, and kiss me again Sammy." She said leaning in closer.

I hadn't thought that Y/n also was fallin' in love with me. Stupid teenager's minds. Getting caught, but loving the trouble we caused. "I think Sammy.. I think I love you. I think I've loved you for a long time now." Y/n said. I smiled and hummed in agreement.

Completed on: 05/20/2021

Posted on: 05/21/2021

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Their best sexual characteristic | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

Part 5/?

Characters: female!reader, Miya Atsumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), 18+, explicit descriptions of sex, headcanons, imagines

Attention: All characters in this series are aged up to be at least 18+

⚠️ 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: These headcanons really are getting longer each time 😫 But I had a surprising amount of fun writing these ones. Hope you can tell that by reading them! Previous parts are linked at the bottom of the post. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

Miya Atsumu

» His dirty talk

First off: that voice. I think y'all know what I'm talking about literally orgasmic

It's so deep, and smooth, and relaxing in a way that just gets you going. There's just something about it that makes you rub your thighs together if ya get me

And when he presses his lips close to your ear, his voice feels like he's caressing you all over yes all over

You basically get high off his voice. Cloud nine ☁️😍

He absolutely loves to talk dirty to you, telling you exactly what he's going to do to you, how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock, or how you're taking him inside you so well hnng

He's got a knack for choosing exactly the right words, and it gets your pussy dripping and aching for him

He always says about how your pussy feels like it was made for his cock

It fits so snug. Loose enough that he can fuck you whenever, but tight enough that he has to work for it

Astumu really loves teasing you – taking his time and priming you with his dirty talk, experimenting with just how close to the edge he can get you when he's hardly even touching you confident little shit, I love him

And it's pretty close

He's exactly the kind of guy to take over an hour making you desperate and horny for him, enjoying the view of your sensitive body squirming beneath him, craving some kind of release

Seeing you like that for him, all just with his words and the occasional well placed hands, boosts his ego to no end as well as making him literally rock hard, aye papi

And the sounds you make when you're a hot, horny mess~

Lord, he wants to record them on his phone and play them back full volume when he jacks off

Honestly, he just wants to record you in general. Take a video of you mewling for him. Maybe snap a pic from above of you with your top pulled up over your tits, nipples hard, thighs pressing together, and with the most desperate look on your face so he has it...you know...for later...

But he'd never actually do any of that without your consent, just to be clear

He'll do this until all you want – all your can think about – is having his cock inside you

And he can be ever so slightly mean and make you beg for it, with that cocky, lidded gaze and a faint smirk again – the little shit. But I love him

"What is it that you want, babygirl? I need to hear you say it. Don't be shy. Use those big words of yours."

But he'd never be so mean as to deny giving it to you. He always planned on fucking you until you can't walk please, oml

Besides, while he's been getting you all riled up, he's been getting just as flustered and desperate. He can just hide it pretty well because he relishes the process

And it's not all just talk, either. Astumu really delivers prime dick 🙌 let me tell you

But the dirty talk doesn't stop there

He uses that voice of his and those delicious words to drive you closer to your climax, his words getting cruder as his hips get sloppier, praising you to no end

He's not shy about what he thinks. He's incredibly straightforward about it

You're making him fucking horny? He'll tell you. Your pussy is the best he's ever fucked? He'll tell you flat out while he's pounding into you. He thinks you look beautiful stuffed with his cock? He won't even hesitate

Communication is key, ya know?

Astumu is a great sexter, too. He has you rushing home on a regular basis to get dicked down omw, lol

And he can't resist whispering dirty nothings in your ear in public, watching you twitch as you get flustered and needy he thinks it's really fucking adorable

The hottest shit since fire was discovered

But underneath that confident, teasing exterior, he's actually super soft for you

You mean the world to him, and his dirty talk is just a declaration of it. His little way of saying 'I love you'

And he's just as whipped for you and your pussy as you are for him and his cock

Awwww. Guys, true love is real 🥺

Miya Osamu

» He loves mutual masturbation

Is it a kink? A fetish? Yeah, pretty much

There's just something really fucking hot to Osamu about getting each other off/getting off in front of each each other

Like, stroke his cock while he's fingering you, and he's cumming in 2 minutes tops

Does it fully replace regular sex?

Nah. Osamu is still down to jump your bones, like, 80-90% of the time lmfao

But he's a pretty practical guy, you know?

He knows that people don't always have the time or the energy, or sometimes even the enthusiasm, to go ~all the way~ every single time

Even for a quickie which he is a fan of, tbh

So he sees mutual masturbation as a great alternative

You both get what you want, you get to do it together, and it really, really turns him on win-win, tbh

Plus, this way, he generally gets a better look at you while you two are going at it he loves a good view

He's a ~connoisseur~ if you will

Osamu is also really into thigh riding and dry humping not just for practicality, either

It's not uncommon for you to crawl onto his lap or thigh when he's busy at home and you're feeling needy, and slowly start grinding on him to get his attention

He might try and ignore you at first, play a little game of will-he-won't-he before he stops doing to whatever it was he was doing before and gives in to you

He'll never turn you away if you're desperate enough to start riding him like that. He's like, 'Damn, she really wants me, huh? 🥵'

Even if he wasn't horny before, he sure as hell is once you start rubbing yourself against him like that

He doesn't even really understand his fascination with all this stuff himself. Like, is it the fact that you're still wearing clothes? The extra friction? The intimacy? The neediness of it? Who knows 🤷‍♀️

All Osamu knows is that it makes his dick stand up faster and straighter than a patriot hearing the national anthem, lmfao, sooo....

He tries to let you do your thing when you're grinding against him like that, but his hands normally find their way to your hips and start firmly working you down into his crotch or thigh, harder and faster

He just can't help himself. The more he gets turned on, the more is hands wander they're kind of cold and it sometimes makes you jump or shiver

If he was being entirely honest, he'd admit how much he loves the feeling of your wet pussy sliding against him, or the feeling of your juices seeping through his trouser leg, making a beautiful, glistening mess but he's rarely that honest, unlike his brother, lol

Definitely the kind of guy to casually lick his fingers after making you cum around them 👅 he may or may not kiss you directly after

His face can be a little hard to read sometimes, but he gets this particularly hungry look in his eyes whenever he's turned on that sends a tingle up your inner thighs *eyebrow wiggle*

The proximity when you're getting each other off is a big win for him – the heat, the panting, the intensity, the little or not so little sounds that escape your lips~

It's all so steamy. It really gets his blood pumping to his diCK

When he's turned on, he gets a little blush across his cheeks that spreads to the tops of his ears you love seeing it from your vantage point when you're straddling him

One thing is certain, though, and that's that he wouldn't do this kind of thing with just anyone

There's something about mutual masturbation, thigh riding, etc. that's very intimate and personal to him, and he'd only do it with someone that he really loves and, perhaps even more importantly, trusts

It's an honour, my gal 😌 He doesnt open up to just anybody 🥺

Sakusa Kiyoomi

» His cum kink

So, a 'cum kink' is pretty vague, as it can mean literally almost anything to do with cum make sure you do you research, my peeps

But Sakusa has a pretty specific cum kink, and that's that his goes inside you

Doesn't really matter if it's your mouth or your pussy I'm not going to say ass, because I feel like that's a big no-no for him

He just likes it going inside you. Swallow it, hold it in by laying on your back with your legs up – whatever. All good to him

But!

It's not a breeding kink thing. It's actually surprise, surprise because it's cleaner. Less mess

Now, Sakusa holds great pride in being able to make you cum, and duh he likes the feeling of himself cumming. He just doesn't want it getting everywhere

Cum is a nightmare to clean out of stuff!! And he wears a lot of black, so it's not a good mix!!

Legit, don't get cum stains on black clothes, guys. 100% not a good time 😭😭

The reason for it isn't the hottest or most romantic thing in the world, but like I said before:

He loves cumming inside you

Just, for the love of God, don't let it all flow back out again please. If not for his sanity, then for your own, because he will fucking go off 😭😂

Condoms are normally a must again, for hygiene reasons

Wrap that shit up, my dudes

But if you get to the stage of your relationship where you're wanting to try going raw and maybe have a baby then~

Damn, this man is going to absolutely destroy your pussy 😩

And if you happen to have a little breeding kink yourself, then you're in for a treat, my gal~

He'll definitely play it up just for you, and will not shut up about how he's going to fill you up until you're fucked out and your pussy is stuffed to the brim with his cum

When you're done, he'll literally take a firm hold your legs and keep them up in the air to stop his cum escaping *sweats in breeding kink*

Rest in pieces if you have a bad gag reflex, because Sakusa enjoys deep-throating, and literally cumming straight into your stomach lmao, and he's a big boy, so prepare yourself

Again, no clean-up = ideal

He can normally be a little rough, but he is the GOD of hate/angry/frustration sex. Like, taking out his stress and frustration in bed just makes it even better

He can be a little iffy about giving you oral or fingering you, though. 'Tis a bit messy for his tastes

He doesn't like to make you do all the work, though. It makes him feel lousy

So one time he offered to finger you while wearing a pair of those latex gloves that doctors wear lmfao, gold star for Kiyoomi. He tried 😭

And I'm not even remotely exaggerating when I say he will outright refuse to have sex with you if you have a cold

Exchange of bodily fluids when you're ill is a big NOPE did you honestly expect anything else? 😭

This isn't even about his kink anymore. Whoops 🙃

♡°☆°♡°☆°♡

Part 1: Oikawa, Daichi, Kuroo

Part 2: Ushijima, Suga, Bokuto

Part 3: Iwaizumi, Akaashi, Asahi

Part 4: Kageyama, Noya, Tendou

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[lov3nerdstuff]

... because you're mine.

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Oneshot

Words: 4.7k

Summary: Things get steamy between you and Tom after another man asks you out.

Request: I was the actress in Betrayal, but Tom was playing Jerry instead of Robert. As the production goes on, the kissing scenes get steamier (he finds THAT spot on my neck!) until I tell him my feelings, he says he doesn't reciprocate & doesn't do romance in the spotlight. After another man asks me out & I say yes (but don't realize it's a date) he kisses that spot during the performance & whispers that I'm his. 🤯 --> @annwhojumps

A.N.: Prepare for some jealous Tom 😉 also, 'I put a spell on you' can be read as an independent prequel to this, but srsly doesn't have to!

Also check out my Masterlist!

_______________________________

You had absolutely no idea why you had been cast to play one of the main characters in this highly prestigious production of one of your favorite plays… After all, you had only auditioned for fun! As a recent graduate from the school of dramatic arts, your chances really hadn't been all too high, and yet you had been selected for the title role. However the shock of it was only topped off when on the first day of rehearsals, you had discovered that your fellow actors were nothing but the brightest stars of modern age theater… and your scene partner was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

Yet, as surprising as it might have been for everyone in the theater, you and him had connected immediately, on a level neither of you really understood. But you had both been certain by lunch break that you would definitely enjoy being around each other from now on.

The first days of rehearsals went well, to say the least, and every single day you and Tom got closer. You got to know each other better, more than anyone else in the cast, and spent almost every waking minute at each other's side. And once the actual rehearsal period started and everyone got on stage, you found yourself enjoying the whole thing immensely. Acting with Tom was the greatest joy, for he seemed to really enjoy both your general company and your professional work together, and even the other A-listers seemed to warm up to you slowly. Still, nobody had an idea why you had been selected for the role, but honestly it didn't matter much. You fit in so nicely with the more experienced actors that in no time, everyone seemed to have forgotten that this was, in fact, your first real job.

Yet, as rehearsals continued on to a more detailed level, not just the blocking, you found your nerves and stomach in knots as you got ready to start the first real run through the scenes.

In the final act of the play, you would need to not only kiss Tom, but literally make out with him on stage, in front of your colleagues and the audience… The thought of stage kissing alone made you nervous, for it had never been your favorite thing even in school, and the thought of kissing Tom of all people simply had you close to hyperventilating.

The thing was… you wanted to kiss Tom. More than anything, actually, for with every new day you spent joking, bickering, laughing and talking with him, your adoration for him turned into the deepest affection, turned into sincere love. And even worse: Tom was so much more than you could ever have hoped for, and it was simply impossible to not love him more with every fucking day. Yet you didn't dare to confess your feelings. It was unprofessiona l, and you were supposed to work together with him here, not fall for him. If people got to know about your feelings, they surely would call you either starstruck or simply unprofessional, and nobody in the field would ever cast you again. Fuck.

So you ignored your feelings, pushed them away to as much as the by now close friendship you had would allow you to show. It was painful, but necessary. Even more so since he kept being overwhelmingly nice to you, walking the thin line between friendship and something more like it was a freaking highway. You couldn't tell what he felt for you even if you tried… one moment he was just being the dork he really was, and the next he would stand impossibly close to you, looking into your eyes like you were all that mattered to him in this world.

And now that you stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes with all the overwhelming nervousness and tornment, his soft smile and gentle eyes were balm for your soul.

"Relax, Y/n. It'll be fine..." He whispered to you so that the others wouldn't hear, only seconds before his nose brushed against yours ever so slightly, hot breath fanning across your lips as they parted ever so slightly on their own account. Your eyes fluttered shut. This wasn't Tom kissing you… this was his character kissing yours.

Soft, chilled lips connected with the corner of your mouth as his hands grabbed onto your waist, gentle fingers brushing against the small glimpse of heated skin just below the hem of your shirt. Your breathing hitched. His lips ghosted over your jaw as his hands trailed down to your hips, your thighs… you were supposed to push him onto the couch behind him.

Reluctantly, a little too reluctantly even for your character, your palms pressed against his toned chest, curling around the soft fabric of his shirt. He nibbled on your jaw, and you pulled him closer to yourself by his shirt. A low, growling sound escaped his lips as they left a trail of feathery kisses down your neck, and you finally managed to give him a little push that made him fall backwards onto the couch. Yet he held on to your hips tightly, and you came crashing down on top of him, straddling him as your heart threatened to jump out of your chest. A brief glance into his darkened eyes… you gasped, and Tom stared at you like a deer in the headlights. Awe mixed with fear.

"That was amazing, guys!" David, the director of your play, called from the side of the stage, and your breathing hitched yet again as you snapped out of this moment of public intimacy. How the hell were you supposed to do that every day from now on, without giving yourself away?

Rather awkwardly you got off Tom's lap, and forced away the blush as he tried to do the same.

"You, uhm…" Tom spoke up from right next to you, voice hoarse and heavy. "You did really well."

"Oh… thanks." You replied quietly, trying to calm down your racing heart for the next scene. And that hadn't even been a full on kiss to the lips!

_______________

For the next two weeks, David had Tom and you rehearse the scene every day, and every day things got steamier, more raw, more real… At least they switched out the couch thing for you sitting on a counter to be on eye level with Tom, but honestly… that didn't make it any better. Your fellow actors put it off as fabulous acting, but you knew that it wasn't quite the case. Every day, hiding your true feelings for Tom got more difficult, and every day you felt more desperate for a real kiss.

That was until one Friday night, when David made you run through the entire play yet another time. It was already fairly late in the evening, but he'd promised to just have ONE more go before everyone could go home. Everything went well as always, you played your part with the greatest joy and focus, right until it was time for that scene again. It started off like all the times before, Tom stepped closer to you with the most intense energy that alre ady had your skin covered in goosebumps before he even touched you. Gentle hands on your waist, pulling you close as he stood in between your legs… a ghost of a kiss to your jaw, down your neck… your eyes closed as they always did. This time however, be it for the late hour of night or your increasingly shrinking resistance to your own emotions, your hands moved to his neck before you could will them not to, gently tugging on the lush curls in his neck. Almost immediately the faintest sigh, almost a quiet moan, escaped his lips and their loving work on your neck grew bolder, firmer… Until he found that one, secret and crazy sensitive spot that upon the touch of his lips made your back arch towards him and your mind become even more hazed. Now it was you who let out the faintest moan, unable to keep quiet, yet only for him to hear. The grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly, and before you knew how to hide the effect he had on you, he gently bit down on that oh so sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling on your delicate skin.

You felt like exploding, inside out, within your mind and in every cell of your body. Every single nerve of your being was ablaze, the feeling of his lips on your skin, his hands on your body… it all contributed to the hidden coil of pure energy within you that was dangerously close to bursting. If you snapped now, the entire production crew would become an involuntary witness to your impossible love for Tom. And that would be your downfall even before the rise.

But just then the scene continued on, and you were pushed around by other characters, spoken to and spoken for, all until at last, the play ended and the crew applauded, before you practiced who would bow when and leave to which place. Yet, your mind wasn't even in the same theater anymore. Your thoughts were far gone, to a place where only you and Tom existed, a place where you could let yourself love him.

Before you knew, David had finished his commentary of the performance, all the actors had said their goodnights and even the staff had sorted out the last of lighting and audio. Only you were left on stage, frozen in place with only the dim emergency lights illuminating the area around you. The entire audience room lay in darkness, as did the sides of the stage… only the center was lit up so sparsely that it was almost spooky.

"Are you alright?" Tom's voice from right behind you made you jump yet again, and he chuckled upon your flinching.

"God, you scare me!" You breathed, holding a hand over your racing heart. At least, if he could hear your frantic heartbeat now, you had an excuse.

"Nah, you can keep calling me Tom. 'God' is a bit too much." He winked at you with a smirk, and you just had to laugh. Tom was the greatest dork, and you absolutely loved it. "Why are you up here, all alone? Everyone else is heading home."

"I'm not alone. You're here." You smirked at him, wiggling your eyebrows in an attempt to make him laugh. It worked, and even in this minimal light, you could still see his eyes sparking down at you… oh, that darn spell he put on you.

"Wanna tell me what's up?" He inquired, leaning his head to the side.

"Why would something be up?" You frowned, but the slightly too high pitch of your voice gave you away. For an actress, you were horrible at lying. Especially to Tom.

"I can always tell when you're distraught, darling." He mused, then turned around and walked to the edge of the stage, jumping off and vanishing in the darkness of the audience room.

"I'm not distraught!" You protested into the darkness. "I'm just… stressed. Because of the opening night in a week. That's all. And what are you doing over there anyway?"

"Making sure you, my darling Y/n, feel less stressed!" He replied cheerily, and mere seconds later you heard soft tunes coming from the theater's speakers, flowing through the empty room like a soft wind, a breath of fresh air. A smile came onto your lips, and a few short moments later Tom got back onto the stage with you. "They've all gone home, so we shouldn't be bothering anyone."

Again you smiled, resisting the urge to rip your heart out of your chest and tell it to slow the heck down. Tom was ALWAYS around you, wherever you went… this wasn't new. But usually you weren't completely alone, and usually your steamy scene didn't leave your heart screaming and begging for more this badly. For something real.

"Here…" He handed you his phone as he came to stand right in front of you. "Choose a song and we'll dance."

"We can't…" You frowned, but still took his phone upon his request. "This is work, I cannot lose my job, you know that very well, and the theater…"

"Will still be here tomorrow morning just like it is right now." Tom interrupted you with a mischievous yet happily excited smile. "Dance with me? Please?"

Oh, how could you resist those puppy eyes? Never, not in a million years could you refuse that man anything at all. With a sigh you considered your options… it was now or never. This was your chance to tell him, to SHOW him how you felt, despite everything that spoke against it. But he needed to know, and he deserved to know. And thus you made your song choice accordingly.

For a short moment Tom frowned, but once the lyrics started his eyes widened in recognition, and he smiled brightly. "Hey, I actually know a version of this song!"

"Good…" You chuckled, then returned his smile. He took a step towards you, taking your hands in his reluctantly and carefully, but still with that adoring smile. Slowly he pulled you closer to himself while his eyes never left yours, until at last he wrapped an arm around your waist and kept holding your hand in his own.

"Dance with me?" He asked again in a quiet voice that barely stood out over the music surrounding you, and all you could do was nod as you lost yourself in his eyes once more. Only that you couldn't yet say if you lost your bravery or your restraint.

Gently swaying to the music, Tom's hold on you seemed to tighten by the second while your emotions tightened around your throat in a menacing grasp, squeezing until you could hardly breathe anymore. Your hand on his back, clasping his shirt tightly, and your head fell against his shoulder as your eyes closed to the strong beating of his heart. Could he be feeling the same for you? He surely was all about you, every single day… but always reluctant to cross the line of friendship. You had to know, or your mind would tear your soul apart.

He had always been there to comfort you once you had started to doubt your place among the cast, and always pointed out how absolutely amazing you were in his eyes, both as an actress and as a person. And after you had told him about your fear of getting kicked out of the production, he had hugged you tightly and told you that he would make sure that nothing of the sort would happen.

"Oh gosh…" Tom suddenly breathed and you were forced to lift your head again, eyes locking back with his.

"What's up?" You frowned ever so slightly as you spoke, only to find your voice laced with the impossible weight of bottled up emotions.

"I… uhm, your skin…" He started, letting go of your hand in order to touch a gentle finger to the small bruise forming on your neck.

Your breathing hitched as his fingertips traced over that certainly spot once more, but you couldn't bring your eyes to leave his even though they were doomed to darken upon his gentle touch. The song ended, the theater fell quiet but for your shivery breath. Tom's eyes remained on yours, blown and unfathomable in the depth of their ever concealed emotions… his fingers ghosted over the spot on your neck yet again, and you visibly jumped right under his fingertips. His eyes darkened.

And before your mind could come back to its right place in the shadows of worry, your lips were ghosting over his in a gentle brush of reluctant innocence. Careful, asking for silent approval… but it never came.

You took a step backwards, tearing your own heart out in the process, while looking into Tom's wide eyes that were so hopelessly full of mixed emotions that you couldn't possibly tell what he felt. He only stared at you with the saddest face as his chest rose and fell too quickly and the silence between you became unbearable.

"I'm sorry…" You breathed and finally allowed the tears to gather in your eyes, blurring your vision and making it luckily impossible to see the pained expression his own gaze held. "I'm so sorry… I… I love you Tom. I love you… I'm so sorry."

For a few seconds he just stood still right in front of you, the very incarnation of a torn soul, until he finally took a step backwards. Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry, Y/n…" He breathed with an expression that through your tears looked utterly unfathomable. "I… I can't."

"It's okay…" You smiled through the tears, adding just one more dagger to your already shattered heart. "You don't have to love me. It's okay."

Tom's lips parted immediately as if to reply something he knew he shouldn't, but he closed them again and looked down to the ground with a frown. Silence…

You couldn't bear it any longer, neither the pain nor the sight of his regretful face. It really wasn't his fault that you had fallen in love with him, and it wasn't his fault that he didn't love you back.

"You, uhm… you may not want to kiss that spot on my neck again, in rehearsals. It would be rather painful." You said quietly, as you walked past Tom towards the stage door without another word. And had you turned around only one more time, you might have caught a glimpse of the tears in his eyes.

_______________

You honestly didn't know what you had expected. That someone like Tom would actually love you back? Well, maybe. That telling him would make you feel better? Definitely. But had it? No… it made everything worse, and you could only hope to pick up the pieces now before it would be too late to save the friendship you had established.

And yet, on Monday morning when rehearsals went into the final week before opening night, you couldn't bring yourself to face Tom. Just looking at him, drinking coffee or eating sugar cookies or whatever, it made you want to bawl all over again, despite your attempt to convince yourself that you had run out of tears by Sunday night. And as Monday continued, you did your job and played your part surprisingly well for someone who hadn't slept a single minute in three days. Only that you avoided speaking to Tom despite your heart's ardent yearning to be close to him again… you honestly didn't know what you should've said.

And so the week continued with as much professionalism as you could manage, however the play's happiest scenes seemed a little more dull, like December's prevailing grey, while the sad ones appeared downright tragic in their deep sorrow. Yet, luckily, nobody but you seemed to notice. Almost nobody… for Tom's smile these days seemed to differ not from his character's, fooling even the most watchful eye but yours. You knew him better by now, knew that his honest smile did inexplicable things to you while his feigned one merely served to set lose the smallest butterflies. Or maybe they were moths indeed.

All your energy went into doing the best possible acting job you could, and actually succeeding in it.

Yet, on Thursday night, the second to last day of rehearsals, an event as unexpected as dawn at midnight momentarily lifted you out of your gloom.

"Hey, Y/n?" David called to you once everybody moved to the backstage area to pack up for the night.

"Yeah?" You managed as much as an acknowledging frown, but not a smile.

"Uhm, you know… I was wondering if you would fancy some dinner tonight? Nothing special, really, but there's this nice pub around the corner, and they serve the best burgers in town. I'm paying! Still owe you for that ingenious idea with the counter." He shrugged as he came to stand in front of you with a small smile, looking at your face expectantly.

In all honesty, you were starving. Luckily the first paycheck from the theater had come in, but that had barely sufficed to pay off the debt you'd gotten into over the previous period without work. That still left you with very little money to spend on quality food, and the prospect of both getting something to eat and some distraction from your thoughts about Tom sounded very tempting all of a sudden. And David had said it was nothing special, after all. Only payback.

"Sure, sounds great." You returned a weak attempt at a half smile. "Just let me grab my things and I'm all ready to head out."

He nodded, and you did just as you had said, walking over to the dressing rooms to get your bag and jacket as quickly as you could, for your stomach wouldn't hold up much longer before it would start digesting itself. And yet, just on your way out of the shared dressing room, rounding a corner, you bumped into someone. The someone was Tom.

Your eyes locked with his immediately as they went wide with both surprise and shock, and for a few long seconds you only stared at each other in this unfathomable expression of mixed guilt, sadness, pain and longing. It hadn't even taken one single, broken second however for him to have you under his spell yet again.

As your lips parted at last, in an attempt to force your brain to form sentences, his gaze darkened and he looked away, a deep frown falling upon his face.

"Tom…" You started, but he interrupted you before you could bring out any expression of sincere remorse.

"Have fun with David." Was all he said before he pushed past you into the dressing room and left you standing in the dim overhead lights of the hallway, alone.

_______________

The evening went alright, for you at least succeeded in one thing out of the two you were hoping for, namely getting something proper to eat. Forgetting about Tom however didn't even remotely work out, for David kept going on and on about how amazing the two of you were doing in the play, except for the last scene, which according to him had gotten a little stiff, beginning with this week. You'd agreed of course, but not told him the reason for that, and only promised to do better on Friday.

Yet once Friday afternoon came, and it was time to run through the entire play one last time, you stood on stage chewing on your bottom lip. The first half of the play had gone well, and you used the break in between now to try to gather up some courage to do the scenes with Tom the best you could. David however interrupted your train of thought as he slalomed around your co-actors on stage, towards you. As he politely pushed some people out of the way, you spotted Tom on the other side of the stage, watching you intently.

"Y/n!" David said cheerily as he came to stand in front of you, and you put on a fake smile. "Y/n, I… I just wanted to thank you again for the lovely evening. It was a little… spontaneous, for a first date, but-"

"Date?" You blurted out, interrupting David. Behind him, you saw that Tom was walking away. Damnit. So you focused back on the man in front of you with a blush and an irritated expression. "Uh, I… we… but…"

Recognition flashed through David's face, before a sheepish smile spread on his lips and he chuckled in what you could only call embarrassment. "Well, I see we didn't really have the same idea about last night then… Uhm… I… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I really didn't mean to. If you'd prefer it not being a date, that's perfectly fine. Sorry."

"Oh, no, I mean yes, I mean… I'm sorry! I kinda didn't get the gist last night, and I thought we were only going for dinner as colleagues, or friends… because that's really all I consider us to be…" You said, feeling a little bad for him. But you really didn't have any interest in him like that, and your mind was entirely elsewhere at the moment. "But you know, it's totally fine… We had a fun evening and now that we're on the same page about that, all is good. Right?"

"Yeah… All's good." David gave you another apologetic smile. "Thanks for being so chill about this… misunderstanding."

"Oh, don't worry… I have enough drama in my life right now to suffice a lifetime. I don't need any more of it." You chuckled softly, and David gave you a thumbs up before making his way off stage to announce the end of the break.

_______________

Something was off. Not only because Tom was actually a good five minutes late for the second half of the play to begin, but also because he refused to even look at you during the first scenes. Your stomach was in knots, as were your nerves. Gods, you missed him...

Then it came to your scene… and Tom's eyes were on yours so suddenly that they felt like a strike of lightning that went right to your core. He had you under his spell again in an instant, and you were lost for the outside world.

His gaze was dark, intimidating… dangerous, as he came walking towards you, and you felt like prey sacrificed to a starving god. The hand that usually fell to your waist in such a gentle manner was replaced by a strong, demanding grip that had your skin covered in goosebumps immediately as he pulled your frozen frame against his own once he stood in between your legs, tightly pressing you against him. Your lips parted.

An inch between your face and his, quivering breath fanning across your skin… the gentlest of kisses on your cheekbone, a ghosting of his lips down your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head leaned to the side, willingly surrendering to him the most sensitive skin of your neck.

A sigh from the depth of his throat, and your breathing hitched, your hand reaching out to touch him only to halt mid-air in a shiver of reluctance, of remembering… The sweetest of kisses in a torturing slowness down your neck, the tickle of his breath on your skin, and your hand became entangled in his curls without your permission.

A low hum met your ear from the depth of his chest as his lips grew bolder and his hold on you stronger… You pulled him closer to you with the faintest gasp, tugging on the silken strands of hair between your fingers. The echo of his heartbeat in your chest, drumming with your own.

A growl… his lips found your weakest spot where last week's bruise was fading alongside the memory of his touch. A bite. Your quiet moan into the silent room, his name falling from your lips like a silent prayer. You pulled him closer… He stilled. A deep breath.

Tom's lips were on your own in a heartbeat, intense and passionate like licking flames, taking and giving the love previously denied. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to trace your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, asking, trying… and you allowed him.

Like troubled waters that roughly wave, your mind's twists and turns ebbed down only with the passing storm at last, and finally you could see, could feel, through the sudden regained clearness, to the very bottom of the sea of truth. Tom loved you… he had all along.

Then your thoughts stilled once his lips left a haunting trail of feathery kisses as they moved to your ear, and at last he spoke in a whisper. "You're mine."

______________________________

General Tags:

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I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this 😊💚💚 I was kinda inspired to write something more steamy both by @hopelessromanticspoonie and @just-the-hiddles , for they just write the greatest steamy stuff 😁 I'm still trying to improve though, so feedback is more than welcome 💗 hugs!

[joy1579]

hi! idk if requests are open now but i'm feeling kind of sad about some trauma (the police got involved in what happened to me by the way) and i was wondering how seven would react to finding out about about some trauma that still really messes with mc when he's doing a background check on them - like he's going through their files and finds this almost 10 year old file about something that happened... how would he confront that? tysm you're an amazing writer and i love your stuff sm <333

hey hey i’m so sorry this took so long i haven’t been writing much lately because my life has been going through a lot of changes (all good tho)

as for the request i want to say first that I’m sorry your feeling sad but I’m so proud of you for staying strong and searching for positive things to make you feel better i have depression and i know how easy it can be to simply stay in the sad so your strength is really inspiring! I hope my writing can help even just the teensiest bit! so without further ado

seven reacts to finding trauma in MC’s background check

·        by in large it would be the same. At first at least.

·        He doesn’t want to bring it up in chat because he knows from experience that some people (read as him) prefer to keep trauma and painful pasts secret

·        If someone brings up something similar to the incident than he not so subtly changes the subject

·        For example, if it happened on a specific holiday and someone brings up that holiday he suddenly spams the chat with meme’s and ads for sevenstar drink until everyone gets distracted

·        If for whatever reason he can’t change the subject to spare you potential triggers than he’s watching the CCTV extra carefully for any changes in your behavior, he can tell how tense you are how shallow your breathing is he’s been trained to notice high stress

·        Soon enough your kicked from the chat as he’s calling you up his tell-tale singsong voice bouncily greeting you

·        Plan A cheerful distraction! He’s turning up his energy and humor to a ten just for you. He’ll be your personal rainy day clown. Laughter is the best medicine after all.

·        If you tell him, you don’t feel like joking around however he’ll quietly admit to what he’s doing.

·        He’ll tell you, well, everything and suddenly all the meme spamming and ADHD-esque shenanigans make sense

·        You’ll laugh, that broken half sob kind of laugh that happens when things suddenly make way too much sense

·        And when he sees your shoulders shaking on the CCTV he can’t do this anymore there’s a new edge to his voice when he says “hang on” then the line goes dead

·        You figure that’s just one more person who thinks your past is too much to handle (you’ve lost a couple people this way, after all why would anyone want “damaged goods”)

·        Slowly you set about the arduous task of coming down from a panic attack when you hear a knock at the door and a familiar voice announcing that he’s coming inside

·        You make it to the entryway as he enters and the world freezes. He has your favorite snacks and drinks his arms full of everything you two had talked about in the chat. Every off handed reference to something you loved, every mention of an obscure childhood candy, every anime, manga or book you had chatted with him about. he remembers every single one and he’s standing before you now holding them.

·        “I can’t change the past.” He says lamely, like he’s admitting a great fault “but I hope I can make your present a bit better”

·        You know that meme where one person says “if I run at them right now they’ll definitely catch me” well you run at him and he does in fact drop everything to catch you.

·        You see Saeyoung knows trauma, knows it like the back of his hand, he knows trauma better than he knows himself. He knows he can’t fix it knows he can’t change or control it but he can make sitting with it a bit easier.

·        He’ll you want you want and do anything to make it easier on you. Need to sit on his lap he’ll blush and sputter and think of a hundred and one reasons that’s a VERY bad idea, but he’ll let you all the same.

·        Need to talk a mile a minute about everything that happened back then, well no matter what the RFA thinks he does in fact know how to sit down shut up and pay attention. Especially when it’s a topic he’s passionate about and there isn’t a single thing in the world he’s more passionate about than you.

·        He’s honestly surprised by the difference between reading a file and hearing your firsthand account. The details are the same of course but your version is so much more visceral, so real and vivid and horrifying. The exact opposite of the cold clinical unflinching facts of the case file.

·        If in ten years you were to ask him when he fell in love you he’d say it was in this moment. When your voice is shaking and your makeups messy from tears and your expression was as raw and honest and real as a person could possibly be.

·        Of course he loved you before but something in that moment brought it into focus. Like taking the protective film from a camera lens. When you trusted him, when you believed that he was worthy of absolute trust and capable of absolute protection. When you chose him to share your trauma with he knew in that moment that not only did he WANT to live up to that but that he HAD to live up to that.

·        You are his inspiration for change. His catalyst and muse. You make him want to be better.

·        He does not love you BECAUSE of your trauma. He does not love you IN SPITE of your trauma. He loves you through your trauma, amidst it, inside and around it. He loves you, past present and future.

[cursed-saphire-hart]

*DRUMROLLS*

TITANIA'S FRIEND GROUP IS READY TO GO (+ their siblings)

First up is Megara Harves (Meg for short)

Eldest daughter of Maxx and Ethan

Age: 16

Sexuality: Homosexual

When I made Meg I wanted to make sure she took a lot after her grandma. She's sweet as hell and just as sassy and could easily smack you down in both a verbal and physical fight. She has a high sense of self preservation and prefers not to get too dirty or take physical damage (however if she has no choice she'll be fine with it, tho she'll probably complain for a bit)

Unlike most of the multiverse kids, where the child who looks most like edd is the leader, Megara is the leader of her group, and boy does she know how to boss people around.

She has a tendency to mostly stick around Titania (for totally not homoerotic reasons) and it's cute at first...

Until of course she cancels plans with you solely so she could hang out with Titania (who asked to hang out after you did. God)

Next up is Ezra Harves

Second oldest daughter of Maxx and Ethan

Age: 15

Sexuality: Pansexual

Ezra was originally supposed to be the leader of the group, however she was far to introverted and shy to take proper lead, not to mention how bad her insomnia tends to be. As a result she typically wants to hang back so she can take care of herself (tho she'll go with her friends if whatever they're doing isn't too much to handle)

Ezra has the abilities to float to up at least 8 feet in the air, and she prefers to float over walking in all honesty, everyday she thanks Ethans radioactive genes for passing onto her

Ezra is definitely the most trustworthy person in the group, she'll take all your secrets to the grave and has never broken a single promise she's made with anyone before

And now is the youngest bby, Macario Harves (Mac for short)

Youngest Son of Maxx and Ethan

Age: 8

Sexuality: Queer, that's all

Mac is by far the sweetest boy you'll ever meet, but that doesn't stop him from being a cryptid. He doesn't mean any harm when he randomly pops up from seemingly no where, he just likes being around people, but he also likes to be in dark, tight spaces, so it's kinda jarring when you feel a random pair of small hands grab at your ankle.

Mac takes interest in monsters and paranormal activity and reads about them a lot in his spare time.

He can't put away his bat wings or tail, but he's fine with it, he thinks they make him look pretty. Plus his wings glow around the edges, how cool is that?

He needs to take a higher blood intake than his siblings since he developed Maxx's poor immune system, but he's fine with that, his blood intakes can range from blood packets from hospitals, to just a raw slab of meet you set in front of him

He has the thickest eyelashes between his siblings, and is often mistaken for a girl, both with and without his bangs covering his eyes.

He doesn't talk that much and prefers to communicate through simple gestures

His eyes are much like Ethans, just with blue instead of green

Next on the list is Jewel Goodwell (Jeje for short, but only if she knows you well)

Daughter of Esmeralda and Jane

Age: 16

Sexuality: Bisexual

Jewel is definitely the strongest person in the friend group, so she assigned herself as the main protector as well. Much unlike Meg, Jewel loves to get down and dirty in any way she can, it's all about the thrill for her. If anyone in the group gets hurt, she's the first one to start tending to them.

Most of her strength is from her radioactive blood, but she does a fair share of working out as well, she's training so that she can eventually join the army when she grows up, because she wants to be able to protect everyone around her.

She's fairly easy going and doesn't hold a grudge, but she can be very scary if you manage to push the wrong buttons too many times

She somewhat can see ghost like Jane, but it's only for short periods of time, they never stay for long

The current most important thing to her is her little brother, she would die for him in a heartbeat if it meant he would forever be safe

Speaking of which, last up is Edgar Goodwell

Son of Jane and Esmeralda

Age: 10

Sexuality: Biromantic (Bi and Ace)

Edgar is a fairly outdoorsy kid, he likes to go out with his sister on Jogs and is ready to participate in school sporting events the moment they're announced, tho despite all this he is more on the introvert side. Sure, he has no problems when interacting with people, but he prefers to be by himself or with Jewel or Mac

He loves animals with all his heart and he wishes his mom's wouldn't tell him no when he tries to bring home a stray cat or raccoon as a pet, bo, it doesn't have rabies, you're just mean >:(

He has a higher connection with the spirit world than Jane, to the point that he can physically feel them, and he welcomes them with open arms, sure, they don't talk much, and some can be scary, but they can't hurt him so it's fine. Grandpa Jon is his favorite ghost to be around :)

He writes down a lot of ghost encounters in a medium sized journal he has, and Mac loves reading it whenever he comes over, and Edgar is glad Max doesnt think he's crazy for it

Anyways I've had these kiddos sketched out for MONTHS and only just now am sharing them, phew it twas a bit of a hassle but I'll live

Also no one told me line less art is surprisingly easy wth

I LOAF ALL THESE GURRRRRRRLS

[hervoidfury]

Gratitude [ Tribute to Jon Huber, 1979 - 2020 ]

He knew exactly how to captivate a person both in ring and out of the ring, you could see it in his eyes; the way he moved, the way he spoke ... His work will never be forgotten, Luke Harper and Brodie Lee will never ever be forgotten. Thank you Jon for bringing life into both these characters and most importantly for making everyone smile with your hilarious bits on Being The Elite 🙏❤

- My Original Female Wrestling Character is built around one of my all time favorite role models Selena Gomez, her name is Vanessa and she's one of the best characters I have built in my life. You can see just how much Vanessa had been impacted by Jon's infectious light. ❤🙏

Heartbreak comes in many forms, the most painful form is the loss of someone who defined the meaning of an angel; in life you meet individuals that leave a lasting impact in your life and for Vanessa, Jon Huber was one of those people — initially the two had never spoken beyond pleasantries whenever Vanessa trained with her best friend Stephen Farrelly, and even then she could see just how friendly and kind the male was, which presented a clear contrast to his on screen persona.

Jon was more than a wrestler, he was an entertainer, a person that captivated you with his words, in ring skills and most of all his intimidating, strong presence in the ring. That's how devoted he was to his craft, behind the scenes he presented a vibrant supportive soul that loved to bring a smile onto anyone he crossed paths with.

Vanessa recalled two of the many significant moments in which he truly left an impact in her life and career as an in ring performer, …

__

— 2016,

“ Stephen wasn't lying when he said it was a party ” muttered Jordan as she and Vanessa stood at a corner watching their fellow peers chat with one another.

It was a rarity to find time to just relax and enjoy yourself in this hectic business however luckily, just two days before a pay per view was set. Stephen decided to host what he referred to as a small party to help his friends relax, Vanessa being the only non WWE performer felt a bit like an outsider despite having many friends within the company.

“ Yeah he wasn't ” muttered Vanessa, Jordan sensed the distress on her best friend and gave her a smile. “ Don't worry I'll be fine, I am gonna get some water to drink and get some fresh air ” she adds making a beeline for the kitchen.

Taking the glass of water, she went out to the back porch and took a deep breath to calm her nerves, she hated how easily her anxiety got to her. Come on, you're better than this! She chastised herself silently.

After a few minutes she went back inside to find Jordan, who was conversing with Jon Huber and his wife Amanda. Vanessa admired Jon's dedication to his character but even more so she admired the love he carried for his wife and sons. It was a rarity to find in this world, Jordan immediately smiled at Vanessa. “ I am sure you remember Vanessa, Jon ”

Jon smiled, “ I do, Stephen talks highly of you and I had seen clips of your matches. You got a light in you every time you step into the ring ”

“ Our son loves your show as well, he goes around the saying ... I am gonna be as strong as Alex Russo ” adds Amanda smiling.

It wasn't as often that people mentioned Vanessa's past as a Disney child, so it definitely warmed her heart to know that not only she can do what she loves but she can also inspire the younger generation — “ That's so sweet to hear! ”

“ You seem a bit anxious, is everything alright? ” said Jon.

“ It's nothing, I sometimes struggle with anxiety ” Vanessa shrugs.

“ Don't belittle your struggles, you got this far — you're a fighter ” said Jon, “ You both are, and one day the world will recognize the change you ladies are trying to bring into this world ”

Both Jordan and Vanessa smiled in gratitude, the conversation changed and flowed so easily as the couple began talking about their kids — Vanessa's heart always warmed when seeing love right in front of her and that was what Jon and Amanda held for one another, true love.

__

“ Vanessa, Are you okay? ”

Much like Vanessa, Jordan had been gutted by the passing of Jon. She recalled seeing him in Chikara here and there but only ever got to speak him during her time in WWE and in AEW as well.

“ I want to do a tribute episode on my podcast, to celebrate his life because so many people only see what is on screen and a rarity got to see the man behind the characters he played. So I am gonna contact Amanda and hope this all goes well because I feel like I need to do this to pay my respects ” said Vanessa.

Jordan nodded, fondly remembering the last interaction they both had with him during a taping of Dark, backstage where he congratulated the pair on their impeccable in ring work. “ I'll help ya out! ”

“ That'll be greatly appreciated ” said Vanessa, smiling as she remembered meeting him right before she made her debut in AEW.

__

— 2020,

“ Okay, you can do this! ” said Vanessa as she stood near the entrance area, today she was set to make her debut as the mysterious entity who would be assisting Jon Moxley to deter and throw off his opponent MJF.

“ Hey kid, you alright? ”

Vanessa turned around to see Jon smiling at her, apparently he had heard about her debut which up until now only a handful of people knew about it. “ I am nervous, and excited. I don't know how the social media sphere will react ”

“ They will be happy, of course some might not be but that's the way it is. What matters is when you go out there? You show them why you are the best at what you do! I saw Jordan doing just that when she got here, you will be making that exact same statement that'll get them talking ” said Jon encouragingly. “ Then, when all is set in stone! You unleash that beast within you and show them why the wrestling world calls you the Hardcore Queen ” he adds smiling.

“ You think so? ” said Vanessa with a smile.

“ Oh I know so! Those clips I saw were just a glimpse of what you hide inside of you and tonight you will throw that first stone in, that'll have the fans coming back to tune in and see more of the incredible talented girl you are ” said Jon.

Vanessa sighed in relief, feeling the bundle nerves slowly leave her body. “ Thank you, for always reaching out and showing your support be it through text or social media. It means a lot to me ”

“ Remember what I told you and Jordan, you ladies will change the business, five years, ten years, fifteen years from now, your legacy will always resonate ” said Jon.

Vanessa nods, fighting back the tears. “ Thank you, truly ”

“ Go out there and knock them off their feet ” said Jon smiling.

__

— Instagram,

@jadebug92; Around 2016, I had ran into @brodielee in a party hosted by @wwesheamus before that we didn't actually have proper conversations beyond pleasantries here and there whenever I saw him. But even then I was captivated by the way he carried himself, we truly got to talk when he saw how anxious I was due to the fact that parties were never my cup of tea.

He saw me and @jtofficial at a corner and was so kind and gracious with us, telling us how proud he was of our work and the effort we put day in and day out. One of the things he said that will always stick by me was " You and Jordan will change this business " and that's what we set out to do. His belief in us was a breath of fresh air. 💕

We saw the love he carried for his wife and it was beautiful to witness something so raw and real, he was a family man and a genuine soul. ❤

When I got to AEW, he was one of the first people to welcome me. And I got to witness him be his true self as Mr. Brodie Lee, leading a large group of talent with his wisdom, strength and experience in the business.

Thank you so much Jon for your undying support and love to myself and every young wrestler out there, I send my thoughts and prayers to his wife, his children, his family and all of those close to him. Your spirit will shine on for all eternity, Fly High ❤🙏

Note; this is only the beginning ... I will try my best to keep his memory through every piece of writing. Because he was truly someone you cannot forget 🙏🙏

@worldxwonders

[huadie]

anchor liveblog post.

the curse of prophecy: all of my high tier kins channel tmg.

" somebody’s gonna get hurt / i hope it’s not me / but i suspect it’s going to have to be.

---

episodes 1-3: the general doesn't deserve the sympathy he gets. i'm not excusing a woman who killed happy girls on their wedding days, but i do think he owed her that closure. sending his son just pits the burden onto someone who wasn't involved. he should look his failures and mistakes in the eyes. if you can't count on a god to do that, who can you expect it of? it's disgusting. / i feel so tired and sorry for the girl who died saving a man who hated her and hurt her friend. i don't think kind people should be on the hook for ignorance and spite so willingly. her life for his was an unfair trade. / He's Cute. and wildly unexpectedly gentle considering the whole "demon" thing. / b tells me i'll have kin ptsd about the face disorder, but right now it's just heartbreaking. nobody deserves to live with that kind of fear. nobody deserves to live with that kind of pain. / b also implies someone in heaven is doing it to them for fun and i just want to say right now that i'm going to pull his dick off thru his mouth. that's a tier of evil that should have your blood start boiling inside you in an attempt to disinfect it. that was a child. that was just a scared little boy. not a prop or a toy or a plot device. a child. / i like the baby generals. they are so nineteen but it's nice to see it. i know anime leans on comedy skits a lot, but they can carry it off. they're charming. / heaven looks a bit shit. all of that meditation and betterment and it just makes you a spineless politician with the power to airbend? christ on a bike.

---

episode 4-5: initial reactions. watching him swing between fuck-me eyes and genuine emotional distress at no signal i can see is a lot. he's a good painter. i think i get the gist of where he's coming from but it feels insane to me. the twitch duels were cute. he clearly cares a lot more than he enjoys devilry so it's insane to me that he's that strong. general jr destroys me. imagine being so pompous and negligent you'd give your child your name. has he ever been allowed to be his own person? meow meow etc. the face disease is horrific. he was just a kid. he was so scared and in pain. i like the temple. i like that it's raggedy and messy. maybe it should be over-repaired, so people in need can take from it? it's definitely not very reverant, but. gods should serve their people. quotes all of small gods here etc. they should want to serve their people. they should be happy to see their temples valued below human life. it would be nice to live in a ghibli film forever, and read books and cook warm food and paint.

episodes ???. thoughts said out loud. gods own their people. thousands, one, here and now you are alive. gods are owned by their people. it's a cage. it's the most beautiful cage possible. to feed starving people from your hands. the bread and the fishes cut out of you. to give and give and give, to be asked for things you have never had and give them next. each prayer should strip you to the bone. can you imagine? to be so trusted, so cared for, so beloved, so followed, to have so much given to you freely and happily. a live lived to save others is the only beautiful thing. the only beautiful thing! a god should be owned by each of their believers individually. selfishly and shallowly and demandingly. like a child needs you. the power to put a fish back in the water is a blessing so heavy thinking about being created for it should make you wail. to be - for people, for the birds and the trees and the fish too, but for the people. it should break your heart. you should never let it become monotone. sunlight into wine.

on love: i trust b. i trust b. to love him here like this and love him in this skin and then find him again in a book and on a screen and fall in love with him there too, to watch myself fall in love with him too. nobody has ever earned what he freely gives. i want to give it back. oxygen to dioxide, i want to find all the places he stands and pour it back into him. i want to show him how beautiful he is. to love someone like that is a miracle and i want to pull it apart. i want to make him familiar with me and bored of me, i want him to wake up each morning taking me for granted, i want him to be so safe and secure in his place in my heart that it stops being a gift. that it wears down and falls apart. the velveteen rabbit. i want to hold him in my hands like a bubble that hasn't popped and i want to use him like the doorway to a world where even if i had to hurt and be hurt and fall and learn to grow, i can come home at the end of it. my growth can mean something, my stronger back can bear more weight, my lessons can be shared. i want it to mean something. i want to have faith in myself again. in the resurrected kingdom of his arms i can find it - build it. i can come home. it can have turned to gold while i did not see it. it can have worth, i can have worth, i can bend and not break. i can have a claim on things without losing them, without it cursing them. just him. i'm not greedy, i'm not selfish, so please - just him.

episode 6: there's something that hurts about letting other people see what you'll tolerate. what you'll do. the places in your life where you have pathetic history and where you are attempting to be someone who only existed today grinding against one another. i know he knows. i know it isn't a stolen moment, a chance to decide how i exist to someone before they decide it for me. i sleep beneath that painting and whenever i wake up in the night i feel him pretend that he is asleep. i know. i know. but it could have - it could have been. it could have been a lie that i got to play with. a tiny self indulgence. aren't you tired of stars? aren't you tired of being the tree that cannot bend in a storm? of holding yourself down? everyone else does it so easily. everyone else lets go. everyone else knows how. if i can't learn then i want to pretend. i want to be unwanted, and - and meet people. by chance, just chance, and like them and have them like me. no promises i made before i learned i couldn't keep them. just... something smaller. i talked about multiverse theory. how it isn't in the coin flip, but the atoms of the coin. how in one dot you can know everything. every grain of sand in a desert. i cannot survive existing with people thinking of me. not well and not poorly. i want to disappear into it. maybe nobody else is obligated to finish the work. maybe their contributions are a blessing. but i can't... learn how to let it go. it's all i have left in me that i recognize, somedays, as it gathers dust and makes me sick to breathe around. what am i if i am not that? i want to know. i'm scared to know. i will never be allowed to find out.

on being loved: god. it is too much. i don't hate it. it doesn't disgust me. but i feel like a plate being washed in every inch of the sea before i am allowed to see dry land again. i feel like i won't survive it if i look at it because it is a mosque decorated in mirrors, because it is mathematically perfect, because it holds the tiny miracles of angles and existence and light on par with the miracles of human heart and existence, because to make at all is to change the world for the first time, because i do not want to see what it reflects. i do not want to see it. i would be better if it lied to itself, if it was delusional and selfish and obsessed with smoke tricks. if it saw silk and paint and stopped looking. i don't want to know what i look like with my hair down, with my face clean, with my feet dirty, with my hands raw - i don't want to see what it sees to know that it loves there too. i don't want to follow it. i don't know how to make it stop. how could i - how could anyone be held accountable for this? to this? to prayers and plans and a kindness that changes the world in every grain of sand it has and again the next second, how could anything be worth this? and if it could - it couldn't be me. not a collection of stupid wishes and failures and betrayals-by-failure. not me with my hair down. silk could be worth this.

on being loved now that it isn't the middle of the night, and my body isn't betraying us both, and i can remember that there are an infinite number of steps between 0 and 1: but really, it's just ink. just paper. if it's - if he. if it's everything. if it's everything. then it can be one thing. it can be this thing. it can be the blindness. it can be me with my own hands over my own eyes like a shutterbox pretending i don't know how to see myself and admit that the pea beneath my mattress only hurts me - that it's small, to him, that it isn't sharp, that it's a phantom limb i can't stop being tormented by and only ever that. can that be enough to start? can i let it? it's atoms again. grains of sand. if he can love this, he can love everything. if i can see this, the rest falls away. there are more universes where we are kissing than every atom from the start to the end of time. that's how it works. i'm going in circles. you don't mind, do you? i'm writing this for you. you're the only person reading this. i don't know why i'm being impersonal about you when i'm being possessive about me. it won't protect me. it won't make it less terrifying to think of, and it won't make it less painful for you to read. i know you're already mad at yourself for being too much. for making me think that it's too much. you're kind to me like that, even when things are my fault. but if we can sit here together, and i can know that you know i can't imagine being loved, and that that - that moment, that dot, me unable to count to the place where numbers end - is something you love too. if i can just see this one moment, and not doubt it or question it or be afraid of it. it can be enough. because you know how hard i'm working to get to even this first step. you know how hard i'm working. you know how scared i am. you know it isn't you. you'll wait for me, with me, and you won't hate me for it. you promised.

on being forgiven: i don't know how to do it for myself. i don't know how to blame people for what they do to me unless it's the most extreme circumstance. i forgive too much that shouldn't be and hold ignorance and spite against others long past when it's fair. i handwave any scar someone gave me while they were suffering and never let go of what they do to others. i don't know what makes it different when it's me. i guess i know how to forgive myself for being scared and lost and for making bad decisions under the influence of... whatever... but not lazy cruelty. not letting something bad happen because i felt like it. all i do now is watch. all i do is let things slide past me again and again and again and do nothing to help and it can't matter that my heart breaks about it when theirs don't if none of us get up, and i remind myself that small steps do more than a single leap that uses me up but it's so hard to believe that here and now in the world where i could die if i tried again and harder still to comprehend in a world where 800 years of lives were made and suffered through and lost and i did nothing that matters to help. maybe all of the horrible backstory parts you're so scared of me seeing will be ones where i could do something, where i could climb up and let everyone take a raw bite out of me and go without starving for just one day, and then this won't cut me up inside like i swallowed a hedgehog. some days i am the hedgehog. trapped inside me, unable to stop being something that cuts to have there, unable to get away. i don't know how you can forgive me. i don't even know if you know what i need forgiving for. if i apologize for saving your life - for coming back to you again and again and again and being so selfish and. i don't know. for being me, while you try to love me, instead of being the person i can't forgive myself for not being, who deserves to be loved by you like this. but you'll forgive me. how do you do it? how do you stand it? i'm jealous of you. of how easy your heart warms up. of how kind you are.

kosmi 1-6 rewatch: i dislike pei su less now that i can see him as a person with a horrific job and less as a vehicle for the lies i know pei ming told about every woman he ever used and threw away. "i burned the scroll and won the war on my own" yeah right. gotta get that out first before i start collecting my thoughts. um.

one: the ascention, the earthquakes, (all that fuss for a scrap god. you told me the order it went in, when i asked, and i still think it's funny in a way that validates what i've been saying for something only the most in-need ask for help with to rattle the bells from warlord's palaces. they aren't ignorable. more than - more than anything else, anything before, i can be proud of this. i can be proud of myself for this.) i hate the way people look at you like you're infected with something because they can't play pretend that their inaction isn't malice any more. the bets and jokes and sneers. what have you done, lately? what help have you given? what good are you? and then there's me: starting as ever in unfixable debt, anchoring desperately to simple kindnesses, too tired to do more than smile. it's not worth it. it's never worth it. (being loved and losing it is worse than never knowing. being able to love yourself and losing it is worse than that.) the way that heaven sits unfixable and unchanging and incompetent. i'm proud of them for making something of their futures. i am. i don't begrudge them anything. i trust their character and i trust them to try to do the right thing for the people. i'm glad they didn't fight hua cheng. the kids are sweet. they're little carbon copies of their generals. it's sweet. it's kind. i like how... okay, they're mean and short tempered and fight like cats in a bag, but it's just the way you are at that age. it's not personal. it's easier to stand. i know there's gender coding tm in the novel, but i hate man-in-a-dress gags that point out that the man looks bad in a dress. i thought it was fine.

one point five: ok. i'll talk about it. the butterflies on the dress, the gentle music, the way our colours matched, the way your hand felt in mine. the sound of rain. i didn't know people could be so gentle. i didn't know they knew how. i think it was better for my health, before, when i assumed the best i ever saw was the best people were capable of. worse for me, though, to believe that. i'd forgotten what it was like to see myself in someone else's eyes as welcome.

zero point five: flashback sequence goes here. of course i remember what it was like to be loved, and work towards a clear goal that helped people. of course i remember what it was like to have a home that loved me back. he looked so scared as he fell. he looked terrified. i don't... i'm not good. at hating people. when i know everyone is driven to where they arrive in some degree or other. but that - whatever the reason they think they had, it isn't enough. it couldn't ever be enough. i hate seeing the human face disease. i hate how scared they are. how obviously in pain they are. i know they can't have survived. but i wish they could. i would give anything if they could. i would give anything up for it. have i talked about responsibility enough that this isn't a surprise yet? nobody should be that scared. nobody should suffer who hasn't chosen it to protect others. nobody should have to choose it, either, but if heaven has already failed you -

two: i hate that bald man. i hate watching that poor freckled girl throw herself on him again and again to save him just because he's human, while he takes every turn to re-learn hate and jealousy and hurt others. when he talks to his friends he almost humanizes himself, and i hope the time he spends as a crab fixes the rest. i truly do. but god i hate to see it. i hate being unable to do anything, because she chose it, because she knows him more than me, because her heart is kind enough to reach out to him even as it betrays and abandons the people in-need who can only go to her for help. you have to triage need. a life lived with the intent to harm others cannot come before a life lived with the intent to help, or to simply survive. anyway. the concern i get shown whenever i talk about the butterfly ghost is so charming.

three: i hate pei ming. his story is shallow and self-praising, his jilted lover competent and proud before he cured her of that with a kiss. i don't believe she broke her legs. i don't believe he passed over the chance to shortcut his way into glory. am i supposed to believe women just act like that? they just break their own knees for attention? she destroyed herself for him and he can't even pretend to care. not even at the end. not even to lie, and let her move on. so, what? thirteen girls die terrified and alone on the happiest day of their lives (- and we know it was happy for them, we know they went smiling up the path, we know they were excited) because he didn't have the stamnia to apologise to one person he hurt? i hate him. i hate his name, i hate his family, i hate his legacy of butchers, i hate his cowardice in sending pei su to grind out his cover story and then hide his mistakes where he doesn't have to look. i hate him. / i feel. so bad for that boy. he was so scared. do you know how scared you have to be to take scissors to yourself? i do. i have, literally, in the last year, actually. and that was... one cut. to avoid the risk of infection. sleeping on a wound that screams at you? he was a child. he was just a child. i let him down. there's no excuse. he needed reassurance. he needed protecting. i let him down.

four: i like that shrine. i like making it, owning it, doing something meaningful. i think a shrine for scrap should be made of more materials than it needs. i think it should be a place to sleep, always, and a place to eat, and you should be able to strip the roof if you need to. i don't care about what is proper, or respectful. respect the god of scavenger birds by surviving at any cost. by using what is useful. by taking what is free. i can build it again. if i know - if i can believe one good thing about myself, it's that i can build it again. as many times as it takes. i won't wear out. i won't give up. i can build it again. and how lucky, this time, to have help. there are so many things i can't do, even now. i need to learn. i never even thought about it until i saw that door. too long alone in my own head. too many years spent without it feeling worth the effort when a band-aid would hold.

four point five: again, ok, fine. i'll talk about it. you're beautiful. your eyes are like starlight, your smile is the warmest thing i've ever seen, your hands should be buried in an instrument, your painting is beautiful, your laugh is endearing - what do you want from me, here? of course i was looking. it's different to look now with your hand in mine than it was, then, to look just to look. to count threads just to count. to run my fingers through your hair and across your palm just to touch something. of course i knew. who wouldn't know you? who couldn't tell? but then, what was i going to do? know it? say it? ask things? better to be stupid, and naive, and find out what knife is waiting for me when it happens. i'm tired of speeding through the sweet moments to get to the next blade. i'm tired of being pushed from place to place. i'm tired of being alone. wasn't it fun? didn't we have fun? didn't you like talking together and cooking together and waking up in the morning in an empty shrine with the promise of another day to fill it? do i have to scream and shout and be suspicious and accuse you of - what! of holding my hand? of helping me? of being the exact same as everyone in heaven still deigning to look at me and thinking of me only as a tool to an end in a plan that will hurt people who did nothing wrong but pray? what can the harvest hope for if not the care of the reaper man? if it's - it always hurts. it always hurts. if it's going to hurt. why shouldn't it be kind first? why shouldn't i play stupid and keep you close and be usable without a heart left in me to break? why shouldn't i enjoy it for what it is, if it's all a lie? better me than someone who would be hurt by it. you're smart, and easy to talk to, and you're helping. you can't unbuild that door. unsweep the entryway. you can't undo the physical evidence of when you were kind. that's enough. that's all i can ever ask of people.

four point now: yes i know you wouldn't, now, i know you now, i don't need to gamble. i know you'd build a thousand doors. i know there's no trick. i know that it's safe. i know that i could have accused you and screamed and bit you and nothing would have made a difference and you still would have been kind. i know. i promise i know. i just... have to say where it was before. i have to tell you how important that kindness was, and how much i was willing to be kind to my own self to keep it near me. you understand what i mean, right? the tiny unforgivable act of making a mistake that could only hurt me? i know, i know. cocky to assume it would just be me hurt. but - if i was right to hope for nothing, i would make sure of that. i would make sure of it. i would do what i needed to to make sure only i was hurt for my selfishness.

five: i hate that we built a shrine and the next day something like that waltzed in. now we have to clean again. (i said in the stream, how funny it was to run that only survivor scam, how quickly it falls apart if you've ever seen real suffering, if you know what a survival rate is.) the rest i don't remember. i like working as a team. i like how much the kids hate you. they can tell too. i don't know what they see. but they worry about me. why do they worry so much? do their generals have something invested in me? are they just trying to do what they can now, and my caring for them isn't a one-way road? do you look that sketchy?

six: talking about the plot? in a sandstorm? no. you should keep my hat on. you look so sweet and cute and shy in it. i love the way you crumple when you aren't at the wheel, when an interaction happens without your instigation. maybe i'm not the only one bad at taking kindness. maybe i should offer it to you more often. you smell nice. like hot clay and silk. it's subtle. is that a ghost king thing, or is it just you? i like it. i can't imagine what i smell like. i hope... lillies and cotton. something soft. i'll ask you one day. i'm not surprised you were the most solid thing in a storm. i won't be surprised if you keep being that. i should have let you catch me. i should have dragged you with me. are you immune to it? could you stop it? would you pretend to be as useless and helpless as i am? i want to keep putting you in situations in disguise just to see what you do. it's fun! it probably shouldn't be, and i'm sure i'm setting myself up for a public shriving the more it becomes obvious who you are and how much i depend on you, but. i don't care. if i suffer for it, so what? what difference will that make? what could one more condemnation possibly do?

six point five: i like seeing sqx. i still read that as squeeks. i like seeing squeeks. i like sharing this with teddy. i like knowing that the way we are together can translate to here. i like how kind he is to me, and how funny, and sweet. i want to see him be happy. i want to see him be happy even though i know enough to infer it won't last. i know you love me with the power of a thousand angry wasp queens but it's nice to just sit next to him and joke with him and pretend for a little bit that i got to do this all the time. that i spent all my years drinking honey and rosewater and laughing with him, that things were as kind and easy as they're allowed to be. it's cute when i say he has a moral code and he gets offended. it's cute when i say he's a bitch and he gets offended. i like the way it makes all three of us laugh. i like seeing a place in my heaven where you could be. i don't want you to give up what you built. you built it because you had to. but when i'm sitting with my head on his shoulder, it's a window to that place where heaven exists to help people, where none of us ever had to learn what misery really was.

what power obliges from you: action. movement, always. there is no down time, no sleep, no rest, no running. if you seek people out to rule them - and that is what ascention is, seeking to rule, to tie your survival to your treatment of them - then you cannot do it with force and with ignorance and with the desire to coast. like. i'm not stupid. i know men do. for centuries and centuries with no repercussions, until the king on the rope for his people is as far related to the man who razed their lands as i am, (but inheriting evil is a choice too). i know how easy it is to punish and hurt and demand. how easy it is to hold people for ransom. but that isn't... that isn't power. that isn't kinghood or godhood or divine right. it's worthless. it's the other end of a sword. it kills you both to use. there's no light left in the world, no wonder, no chance to be saved by others so long as you are the thing that keeps you both drowning. you should wake up in the middle of the night for them without being asked. you should bleed for them without being asked. you should be ready to die for them without them ever knowing. even at their worst. at their most entitled, afraid, undignified, ignorant - if they are those things, the blame falls on you. if you are voted in democratically or born to the monarchy and not hanged in the streets it is the same either way: the people have chosen, they are asking you for something, and if you live in their gold and silk and sing their songs instead of smashing your own head in with a rock then you have agreed to the terms. why would anyone be unwilling to do that? afraid to do that? if you can do even a little bit more than someone else they are owed half of the excess. you cannot live in the world alone. you must not live in the world alone. ask the people above you to bleed for you and the people below you for nothing. there is no hierarchy beyond "i can help you" and "please help me" and there is no meaning beyond it either. every day it is hard to remember this but you have to, both parts, without losing either. why wouldn't anyone want this? what else is there to strive for but to better help others, to be someone with an abundance to share, to be used like that for the survival of everyone. isn't that happiness? to be as connected to everyone around you as a river is? to give water and fruit and blessings and promises and safety and shelter? you can seek power without understanding that it is only deeper service, but you will never do anything worthwhile with it. the gold will rot with your corpse. we find immortality in one another, and the celebration of giving more.

???: i saw a video of someone opening their back gate onto a meadow of the same single flower. it was beautiful. that's what it feels like when i catch you looking at me. we could grow flowers, couldn't we? we could plan a garden? i don't want to see myself fall and fail twice at least, or fight a war, without something kind at the end. i want you to tell me there's a way to still be like this - repairing doors, eating small meals, sleeping in warm air - after all of that is done. i want to build something selfish and self-sufficient together. i know we already are. in the things we talk about the jokes we make at my own expense whenever further plot implies at me. and in how excited i was to find out that the word for butterfly was this one. but i want to make things with our hands again.

episode 7: well. i'm glad it was me.

episode 7 (a day later): i'm still glad it was me. i'm proud of the kids for how brave they are, proud of that general for saving lives every time - and god, it was so funny sitting there in a circle of contempt for him, touching a gravestone people had hand cut and hauled up the mountain and carefully ingraved with their thanks, thinking about how loved and how much gratitude he must have died surrounded by. thank you for making them treat it with respect. thank you. he did his best. i'm almost jealous of it. imagine how nice it would be to help people, and have them see that you helped them, and be happy about it, and think kindly of you. i'm glad that you understood how important his actions were. i feel less alone when you're beside me on matters like that. anyway - i'm glad it was me. you're so bad at letting people care for you. i can tell you've been alone with only yourself to depend on for a long time. but your heart is so soft, you know? you don't even know it. you deserve to be protected. to be with people who want to protect you. it doesn't matter if you could have caught it in time, or survived a bite if you didn't - you should be able to think of yourself as precious to others. to me. i don't want to see you hurt. i don't ever want to take your hard-won strengths for granted. on the last day of earth, i want to move between you and danger as quickly and without apology as i did then. you're so easy to care for. do you know? and i'll be okay. i know you blame yourself for it because you said, because you're never gentle with yourself the way you are with me. but if you hadn't been there, i'm sure i would have stepped between someone else and that bite. i'm sure i would have forgotten again to grab the stinger i was just warning everyone about. you know what would change? if you hadn't been there, if you'd been a bit faster with your own defense, "if" "if" "if" - ? i wouldn't know there was a cure. i wouldn't know where to look for it, or be able to depend on someone helping me find it. that's the difference you made by being there. that's the only influence you had on me that day. you keep giving me the chance to survive my own mistakes. thank you. i can't promise we won't end up here again. i can't promise i won't keep trying to protect you. all i can do is hope that you know i don't mean it as a slight on your capabilities (it isn't! i just care about you. even the strongest man alive should be loved by people who want to shield him from danger) and that you don't get tired of me being so reckless.

[kpop---scenarios]

Tutor

Pairing: Minhyuk x reader

Big thank you to @xoxoninibebe for her help with this. You're the real MVP

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You were going to fail psychology.

Absolutely going to fail. You got 47% on your last test. You needed atleast a 70% on this test to scrape by with a passing grade.

So you did the one thing you didn't want to do but also kind of did. You called up your old fuck buddy Minhyuk to tutor you, he who also happened to be a psychology major.

You and him didn't fuck anymore. Well like, not as often as you did before. Just on occasion.

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. What can I do ya for?" Minhyuk purred answering the phone. You could already hear how cocky he was.

"Uh hi, I need you to tutor me" you say.

"Yeah sure, I'll tutor you. I'll tutor you all you want." He tells you with a slight chuckle.

"What? No. Jesus. I legitimately need a tutor."

"OH. So that wasn't just some code for you wanting to fuck?" He asks.

"God Minhyuk. Meet me in the library in an hour. Get ready for a long day. You say before hanging up the phone. Poor guy has alot of work ahead of him.

Sitting at the library table, you impatiently tap your pen, waiting for Minhyuk. Part of you was worried he wasn't going to show. When the other part was hoping he looked like shit so you wouldn't be tempted.

Hearing a throat clear behind you, you're met with the sight of Minhyuk. Blonde hair, dark eyes and a smouldering look.

"Hi baby" he says with a wink.

"No Minhyuk, this is serious stuff. I have to pass or everything is going to be fucked up." You say, trying to keep the tears in your eyes.

"Okay okay, just relax. You'll be fine. I mean, I'm helping you and I got 98% in that class."

"Ok smartass, I appreciate your help though, so thank you or whatever" you roll your eyes.

"Let's get started then" Minhyuk says.

After an hour you had given up studying. You couldn't help help stare at Minhyuk as he reads his book, and he bites his lip. With a smirk on your face, you stand up to lean across the table, picking a piece of lint off Minhyuk, your v-neck shirt hanging so low, he can see very well you're not wearing a bra. Looking up at him, you see him shake his head and lick his lips as you sit down.

"Come here, let me show you something" Minhyuk says. Moving to where he was sitting, you're extremely close to him. So close in fact you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The same cologne that drove you crazy, and still to this day drives you crazy.

Minhyuk asked you a few questions, and everytime you got one right his hand moved a little more up your thigh.

You couldn't help but bite your lip and rub your legs together.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to go to the bathroom" Minhyuk says, getting up and walking away.

You can feel yourself getting wetter thinking about the touches on your thigh. Your thoughts trailed off about having sex in a semi public space like the library got you feeling hotter. Your hands moved on intstinct to your right breast cupping it. You could feel your hard nipple through your shirt and pinched your nipple sending a shiver down your spine. Tilting your head back you closed your eyes to let out a soft, quiet moan. You left your head tilted back and slowly opened your eyes to find. Minhyuk looking down at you. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. His face however displayed a very dangerous yet sexy smirk.

"Do you want some help with that baby?" Minhyuk breathes into your ear, reaching forward, gently flicking your nipples with his thumb causing you to quietly moan again. The touch of someone else is much better.

"I forgot how delicious your fucking moans are baby" he whispers before sitting back in his chair. Looking around, he notices the section you're in is rather quiet.

He pulls your chair effortlessly and roughly towards him before crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss was needy, he had been wanting this, you for so long.

You missed the taste of his lips.

"Sit on my lap baby" he tells you. You wrap your arms around him and slowly getting yourself into his lap, straddling him. You could feel his cock getting harder underneath you. Sliding your tongue over his lips asking for entry as you grind against his crotch. He let out a loud moan into your mouth making you smile against his lips.

Hearing a sigh, Minhyuk quickly and frankly, violently pushes you out of his lap onto the floor.

"Sup." Jooheon says, and then notices you on the floor. "What are you doing down there?" He asked you.

"I don't know. I was in my seat and then next thing I know it was like I was violently pushed out" you reply, glaring at Minhyuk.

"Y/n is also having trouble with psychology" Minhyuk says as you sit down next to him. He spreads your legs open under the table.

Silently you thank yourself for not doing laundry and only having a skirt to wear.

Moving your panties to the side, he flicks your clit, causing you to squirm.

"You okay?" Jooheon asks, looking up from his phone. You nod your head.

"Well I better go find this book" he says, getting up and saying goodbye, muttering something about you two were nasty for doing that in the library.

"I need to go find one too" you say, pushing Minhyuk's hand away. Yes you were annoyed he pushed you off his lap. It could have been anyone and you understood that but you were petty.

You were towards the back of the library book stacks, where no one usually goes when your back was pushed up against one.

"Don't be mad baby. How about you let me fuck you to say sorry" Minhyuk says. "I know you love the way my cock makes you feel." He whispers. You whimper a yes.

He hikes your skirt up, and slowly takes your panties off, shoving them in his pocket.

Unbuckling his belt, he pulls his pants and boxers down just enough for him to let his thick, veiny cock spring free. The site of his cock always had made your mouth drool. How you loved him fucking your throat until it was raw.

Minhyuk hooks his hands behind your knees, signaling for you to jump. You do as you're told, he pushes you against the book stack for more support.

He teased the head of his cock on your entrance. You wiggle, trying to get him to just hurry up.

"Patience baby. I will fuck you" he whispers, slowly pushing himself into you. Your hands tightly grip his hair as he continues to enter you.

"Ahhh fuck" you shudder, putting your lips against his neck.

"You're so fucking tight baby. Shit. Your pussy feels so good" he moans as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

"Please go faster" you beg, he smirks.

Granting your request, he drastically picks up his pace. You can tell by the dark neediness in his eyes he loves seeing you like this. Gripping onto the book shelf as he fucks you. Your tits bouncing, hard nipples pointing through your shirt. You throwing your head back in pleasure.

You lift your shirt up, just enough for him to leaning down and put a nipple in his mouth, harshly sucking. You thrust your hips to meet the rhythm of his.

You're a little surprised no one hears you, considering he's ramming into you, shaking the shelf.

"You gonna cum for me baby? Cum all over my cock" he breathes. Fuck. When he says shit like that, it drives you insane.

"Yes yes fuck. I'm going to fucking cum daddy" you cry.

"That's it baby, cum all over daddies cock like a good girl. Come on baby. Cum" he demands.

You do.

"Holy fuuuck" you cry, quickly thrusting your hips, trying to ride out your high for as long as possible.

"Cum in my pussy daddy" you whisper into his ear, making him fuck you faster and harder.

"WHAT THE FUCK" you hear, Minhyuk stops thrusting and you both turn to see Jooheon standing there with his eyes wide open.

He slowly shakes his head before starting to walk away, muttering. "Having sex in the library? Seriously? What has the world become? I did NOT need to see that. Today is just not my day. I should go back to bed"

"Well that was awkward" you say, Minhyuk beginning to start fucking you again. "Mhmm", he says picking up the pace.

"Tell daddy where you want me to cum baby" he moans. "I need to hear it again from your pretty lips"

"Cum in my pussy daddy" you cry.

"Fuck. Shit" he grits from his teeth, his pumps slowing down as he releases himself into you.

"I missed you" he whispers, pulling himself out of you and buckling his pants back up.

"I missed you too Minnie" you tell him, pulling your skirt down.

Grabbing your hand, he drags you back to the table where you gather all your things. He tells you that he wants to be with you but doesn't want to talk about it here. Walking further out into the library people turn and stare at you. They all knew. But somehow you didn't really care. But you were definitely still going to fail Psychology. Turns out Minhyuk was not the best choice for a tutor.

[kmclaude]

Omg Claude,that freaking Tiefer vampire au is the kind of shit I never knew I needed so much!! I can't thank you enough for writing it! Also,while we're at it I'd like to ask you something. I'm also writing a story that contains lots of rape but can never bring myself to write it down as raw as I want to,since its a sensitive topic for me. How do you manage to write it so 'brutally' as that,like describing those terrible actions and all? Anyways thankxs as always and hope you're getting better!

Thank you so much! I kinda needed it too...

I hope you don’t mind me responding publicly -- I’ve noticed any reblogs from you never seem to actually show up in my activity outside of post notes so I don’t really trust tumblr to actually handle sending a reply, plus I think that’s a good question and one that can help others too.

Full disclosure: I have been writing brutal stuff since I was thirteen, publicly, but wrote and drew some fucked up shit even before then and admittedly, I just am not bothered by reading or writing fictional depictions of rape or murder (Exquisite Corpse is a blast that other friends of mine -- hardier friends! -- have been like OH GOD at certain scenes.) It just doesn’t bother me. Movie and TV show depictions, eh, sometimes they squick me, and of course I can feel emotion reading or writing a scene, but writing terrible things really doesn’t bother me. 

Given that, and given that its a sensitive topic for you (heck a sensitive topic in general), I very much recognize that my go to advice -- that is, practice! Read examples! Practice some more! Power through! Go hog wild! -- is maybe not the best advice to give. I don’t want you or anyone to do anything purposefully injurious to their mental or emotional wellbeing -- I may like and advocate for pushing boundaries but I ain’t out here going “lmao trigger yourself cuck” you know? That ain’t chill.

So, I’m gonna try and find some work arounds, something that might be better than simply telling you to practice and posting the Shia LaBeouf Just Do It meme

(Obviously, I’m gonna mention some semi-graphic scenarios -- this is a question about writing rape scenes after all.)

You say your issue is writing it “as raw as [you] want to” -- what constitutes as raw to you? Is it writing out every little moment like a play-by-play in high-definition detail? Because yes, I admit, that may mean you have to just power through and it often seems that way but you can narrow in on some details that aren’t tied to the sex part of it all. 

For example, if you’re writing a scene where character A rapes character B on a barnyard floor, you can focus in on the feel of straw and dirt under the character, the burn of splinters in their hands and knees as they try to get away or in their back that get pushed in deeper with every movement, the stink of animal feces and of sweat, the sound of flies buzzing and heavy breathing -- it’s all gross tiny details that are all zeroed in on but dissociated from the action itself so you don’t have to write about the minutiae that is genitalia or penetration or in-depth sexual violence and your readers will still be, well, grossed out, disturbed, etc. It’s writing the sex scene by writing mostly around it even as you take your readers through it.

Or is your idea of raw more atmospheric and subtle, something that can be conveyed with the right words or the right narration choices that still hit you like a ton of bricks? You don’t need to write it all out like its a dissected fetal pig in an Anatomy and Physiology classroom to get the grossness or horror across. There’s writing the scene with a detached, almost clinical air, which can be really disturbing (it can also, admittedly, backfire into unintended hilarity so it’s a tricky beast.) There’s also just, rather than dragging it out, honing in on a few snapshots of brutal imagery to carry you through the scene. Think horror movies, how sometimes you’ll get a glimpse of the carnage or the monster without any money shot -- it’s effective without doing too too much. However, both of these require that, yes, you write all or part of some sexual acts which may cause difficulties.

Alternatively, fade to black scenarios or scenes where the situation is disturbingly apparent, that forces us as readers to imagine what happened, can be powerful without demanding that any of the sexual acts be laid out. If we see character A drag character B into a barn and latch the door and the scene pulls out to the stillness of the barn exterior that’s unperturbed save for muffled screaming and sobbing and then the next scene cuts to character B in their bathroom scrubbing dirt from their face and pulling straw from their hair and damaged or ripped underwear, well, that second scene tells us what happened in the first and can be chilling on its own, no sex required. It may work easier as a movie scene or comic panel but it can be done in the written word.

(Sidebar: I don’t know what language you’re writing in, but I have friends whose first language isn’t English but speak it better’n most English speakers and they’ve mentioned they find sex easier to write in English than their native language. Maybe it’s our curse words? Fight me, fuck and cunt are the best words, quality words. If you’re multilingual, writing in a different language might help create a much needed distance.)

It’s tough and there’s no easy solution. Unfortunately, like most writing issues, the solution is practice practice practice and read, I guess -- but then the last thing I want to tell you is “oh hey, just fucking trigger yourself, that’s a great plan!” Like no! No, not great! But I think it all hinges on what you find rawness or brutality to be and what your limits are and working within those limits (or, if you feel yourself able to, breaking those limits as you see fit and feel comfortable.)

My way of brute-forcing past my boundaries and pushing myself isn’t everyone’s way -- and heck I’m sure there are things I’ve written that if I went back and read, I’d be like “slow down there Jeffrey Dahmer let’s take a chill pill” you know, so I’m not even saying it’s the right way! It’s just a way and I think it’s a matter of figuring out your way as a writer.

I hope that helps and good luck!

[thelocalshooter]

The Local Shooter Vs. AR$XNN JARIUS

(LS) Good afternoon thanks for being able to be a part of a great come up, how about we start with a little introduction for the people that aren’t familiar, where are you from, who are you, how old are you and what do you do?

(AJ) Thank you for having me. I go by Ar$xnn Jarius, I'm from Wichita Falls, TX born & raised, I'm 23, and I'm an artist

(LS) Being from Texas how has music inspired you? Obviously you have many greats from there all the way from Paul Wall To Sauce Walka, who were some people that you grew up listening to that inspired your sound?

(AJ) The people that inspired my music I would have to go with Eminem, Lil Wayne, Tech N9ne, Busta Rhymes, Kid Cudi and Gorillaz. Growing up in my hometown I really never paid attention to the Texas scene like that but i would listened to like Paul Wall, Mike Jones, Chamillonaire and other artists from the state that would be TV at the time. Growing up I had to listen to the radio or the TV, and now having the internet it feels so much better finding the music that fits your playlists.

(LS) We see last year you dropped your project “Don’t Wait Til I’m Dead” which is an underrated project name, why did you choose to go with that title? What was the whole project like for creating that project cause after a listen myself it’s so raw, so much passionate and fired up energy, do you feel you were just tired of holding back or?

(AJ) When I made "Don't Wait Til Im Dead", living in Wichita Falls where its a lot of favoritism and barley having support they never gave me the recognition that I been deserving, after going through being used and taken advantage of, moving out of my childhood home, suicide attempt, getting locked up for the first time, and my first rap beef (which is based on the track "Lucas Mode") I thought about all that has happened so far at the time I put all that anger into making this album. The reason I came with the project title is because I mostly tired of being slept on, most people don't pay attention until someone's death is all over social media. People don't actually f*ck with someone until its too late, I feel that people don't show love until someone's 6 feet in the earth, yeah people say they really care but how much? Things like that made me hit them with the DWTID title there's also a dark vibe with it.

(LS) How has being in the Texas music scene affected you? What has changed from when you first started up to now? What are looking forward to in the future? Any tours? Any shows?

(AJ) My brother is the reason that I do music I remember seeing him on stage with 2 other people in the school talent show rapping I been in the scene since I was younger from talent shows to venues now everybody around school knew i rap. I went to a studio for the first time when i was 13, one of my brother's friends had equipment at the time I wasnt thinking about looking for my sound that fact that I was young and being a kid I remember watching the first mic pass that they had in the city on Youtube half of them I don't hear from them now days. I remember recording songs on the phone it sucked and it was trash, shortly after that i started working on a mixtape around the time of my last year in high school. After high school I was part of a movement called YB$ (Young Boss Status) with 2 of my friends i went to school with and another friend that was down the from road from us. We had a show opening for Mike Jones the next year we disbanded the movement me and the homies were still on good terms no matter what we moved on was best for us. A year after that one of our friends had passed away due to health issues it made me a stronger person in music, you can tell the fired energy that's in my art, my friend Nappii was one of the best people that anyone could be around from school to studio sessions to shows around town, the best memory I had with him was when I helped him out with an issue, I want to go far with my passion to honor it for him. There's a lot of talent where I'm from. At the time I would always go out to places go meet people around my age and under with a lot of talent that I came across in WF, the fun part about it is doing shows with them and get to know who they are, I remember going to a party there was a show in the backyard, it was really lit but it would've been more lit if i grabbed that mic (that comes from the inspiration of the track "Go All Out Like Its 2017") Im looking forward to meeting fans, making new fans, and meeting more artists through this journey, Im working a few EPs for 2020 shit load of fire and no tour dates for at the moment but I have a couple shows coming up February 22nd in Grand Prairie, TX its a part in Dallas opening for 500GwapGang and March 14th in my hometown Wichita Falls, TX at the Deep End. Those are my 2 main focus, making more music & doing more shows!

(LS) Are there any artist you look forward to working with? Can anyone work with AR$XNN JARIUS or are you picky about your work? Have you expanded throughout Texas at all?

(AJ) Famous wise I would like to work with Tech N9ne, $uicideBoy$, Denzel Curry, & J.I.D, just artists that I enjoy listening to, Im down to work with any artist that are also on the come up I just got to feel and know the vibes, I done shows in a other couple places so far I been making connects out in Dallas, Fort Worth, San Antonio and many more to come. I'm growing more everyday, my goal is to do shows in 10 places by the end of 2020.

(LS) Besides music is there anywhere else where you’d like to get your foot in? Or is music you’re sole passion and main focus?

(AJ) Music is all got, its the only resort I have, there's nothing else that I'm good at to be honest, I been dealing with music for all my life now, it's my way only way of fun. If it wasn't for this I would be dead right now.

(LS) We see you’re on many platforms, apple, Spotify and even a couple channels on YouTube have covered some of your tracks like “No Hook” and “Turbo” which are both fire tracks also! Do you plan on dropping any visuals yourself this year or what’s the plan with that?

(AJ) I will be dropping a visual next month for sure. And more to come!

(LS) What’s your long term goal as far as music? Are you looking to be signed one day and really go pop or are you wanting to stay independent, and work as you see fit?

(AJ) My long term goal is keep going til the wheels fall off. Constantly drop that heat for the people! Far as I'm concern I'll stay independent unless if i get signed to labels like Top Dawg Ent. or Dreamville. As an artist my goal is to reach out to every audience of different parts and merge them together.

(LS) What’s the creative process like for you? Do you need a big studio? An engineer etc, or can you just get a mic and do it yourself so you can bring your vision to life?

(AJ) I definitely take my time with music than i ever had before. I treat myself like its homework I'm not done until I get it right, some of those got to understand that it takes time for everything, the longer it takes it'll come out perfect. I have my own studio in my room, I don't like working with somebody else's time for recording so i went out of my way to get my own so I can have all of it right there when I get ready to lay some vocals down.

(LS) Thank you again for being here today( anything else we should be expecting from you in 2020? Any links you’d like new listeners and viewers you’d like for them to check out, or any social media where they can reach you?

(AJ) You're welcome. Thank you for having me once again. Once again I'm Ar$xnn Jarius, anyone that's new to my music I'm on Apple Music, iTunes, Spotify, Youtube, SoundCloud, Google Play, Amazon Music and Tidal. And for my social media outlets follow me on twitter is @arsxnn4lxrn, Instagram: @arsxnnnjarius, Facebook: Ar$xnn Jarius, Snapchat: hicks1596

The Local Shooter Vs. AR$XNN JARIUS

[lessonslearnt]

Something to learn from ? Maybe you're meant to read this.

The lessons on mental health/relationships/life I’ve learned so far from my personal life experiences.

16. I remember my mom driving me to an urgent appointment at children’s mercy hospital downtown the day i returned from week long summer camp. My little sister, who had joined me at camp, had “ratted me out” to my mom.

I felt the way a drug addict would feel when being escorted back to rehab after returning from a week long bender.

All while being driven there by their cold, unaffectionate, un-empathetic, un-sympathetic, authoritarian mother; screaming at them for the duration of the half hour ride to the hospital.

In some ways, I WAS a drug addict. An addict for death, if death was symbolized as my “drug” , like a heroin addict returning to the the heroin, both myself and the heroin addict searching for the “high”, the release, the numbness, the sleep, the death.

Her words communicated: Disappointment. Shame. Black, deep, heavy self hate for what I was doing.

Face right up to mine. Screaming with angry passion. Flecks of spit on my cheek. Crying. Me. Always crying. Because I had a demon in me, and I had no control over what I was doing. Why didn’t they understand or believe me when I told them “I can’t help it…”?

She didn’t know how to handle me. I wasn’t an easy child, emotionally. She didn’t say or do the healthy or right things for me, and usually she actually exacerbated all of my hardwired mental dysfunctions.

But it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t have known based on HER own life experience how to be what I needed. She did her best. And I love her for that.

And it’s all ok, because it was all a part if the plan. She played a role in getting me to where I am today, at this moment in time.

Lesson: I will make mistakes in my loved ones’ lives, it doesn’t mean I love them less. And if I keep loving them, they will hopefully see that. And vice versa for those that wrong me. True love. Gods’ love. Not YOUR definition of love.

I forgive my mom, and I hope she forgive me too.

I remember the EKG machine in the doctors’ office suddenly beeping numerous, loud alarms from a box on wheels connected by wires to adhesive patches on my chest and rib cage.

The tech putting her head down, eyes to the floor, ever so slightly shaking her head in almost a ‘disappointed’ manner. My mom glaring at me with a cold side glance, simultaneously giving me the same exact slow, disappointed, shake of the head that the EKG tech was expressing.

The Doctor calls my mom into the hallway outside the exam room, alone.

Low, concerned, serious muffled voices.

Doctor returns, without my mother or anyone else, looks me in the eye, tells me that if it was up to him, he’d have me hospitalized right this second.

I am at high risk for dying at any minute, he tells me, but my mother is refusing inpatient treatment. “you have to be serious about wanting to live, or no body can help you”, a line that stands out in my mind. I have to want this and participate in aggressive rehabilitative treatment, outpatient.

I nodded my head slowly, shamefully, head tilted and eyes down to the floor, can’t make eye contact with him.

And he says “you might want to say farewell to those you love…” as he exits and closes the door.

That’s heavy shit, right?

But I didn’t care!

This meant my plan was WORKING! I was content, though, not even that. I don’t really understand what I felt.

Driving home, sitting at a red light, mothers’ face has been a wrinkled ball of tight, hot anger. Knuckles white and clenched over the top of the steering wheel. Horrible silence. Hot, muggy car.

Although, the enveloping 90 degree oven the car became in the roasting July parking lot of the doctors office felt wonderful to me, given I had 1-2% body fat.

My mother started in on a slow, aggressive, anger filled response to the events that had just transpired at the hospital.

Then a crack in her voice, she stopped talking, I looked over…

I saw her crying.

A wet trail leading from her right lower eyelid, sliding right on down off of her jaw line; a tear had just fallen from my mother’s eye.. I don’t see my mother cry. I don’t see my mother express sadness, Especially not for me!

I had seen my mother angry. I had seen mother disappointed. I had seen my mother express contentment with her surroundings. I had seen her have moments, just minute long moments, of flitting joy; usually just a false high before the crash. My mother wasn’t somebody you talk to about your problems. My mother wasn’t kind, nice, empathetic, sympathetic, warm, expressively loving, a hugger, a kisser, a “let’s do this together!”, let me put myself in your shoes, saying “I love you”,

Type of mother.

It’s not her fault. It’s not my fault. It was all a part of the plan.

The emotion that rarely surfaced to the outward character of my mother, was that of which I was witnessing in the car this very moment. Sadness. Not just sadness though, empathetic grief for what her daughter was experiencing. A broadened mindset in regards to what another human benign could potentially be tolerating in their mind, outside of their control. A realization that not every hurtful action towards you by other people is maliciously carried out. That people aren’t perfect. That people have real, raw, loss of control. That mental DISORDER, caused by genetic predisposition and environmental conditions, is a dysfunction of the brain ORGAN, at times out of ones control.

It appears through her actions to follow that she realized her child had essentially been suffering from a chronic health condition, no different from say, type 1 diabetes (dysfunction of the organ, the pancreas), one that her child could not control, and one that needs just as much intervention as any other bodily disease.

She couldn’t think this way about all of my “quirks” and “behavioral issues” until this moment, until JUST now.

At least, that is my perception based on her reactions and expectations of me I observed going forward.

Prior, she couldn’t think of me as anything but 100% in control of my thoughts, actions, and decisions; not trying hard enough to “get better”. She didn’t realize that the demons that she learns about every Sunday in church could manifest so blatantly in her picture perfect life!

Until this moment.

She loved me in that moment, that is, showed me that she felt sad for what I was experiencing; told me that she loves me.

Told me that she loves me.

Told me that she wanted to support me in any way she could, and that she didn’t blame me for all of my actions, and that she wants me to feel better because she…wants ME to feel BETTER.

No strings attached, no other motives or fake prayers at the dinner table that I’d “magically be cured overnight”.

She still didn’t take me to inpatient treatment out of fear of all the people in her social group “finding out” about the fuck up that they had so clearly produced. But hey, I get it. I really do.

That was the right decision, it ended up working out beautifully. It got me to where I am at this moment in life. The perfect moment.

Lots of intensive outpatient psychiatry and psychology appointments, as well as starting the medication Paxil, helped to jumpstart some recovery and motion forward.

In addition to those interventions, experiencing the communication of love my mom had just given to me, helped me return to a functioning level of mental health. Without that, no other intervention would have helped me.

The OCD voices were quieter. I learned therapeutic thought interventions to help with rational thinking. I felt…numb.

I know the medication made me feel a bit numb, and I’ve seen this side effect on many forums where people are sharing their “reasons for stopping an anti-depressant”…“it just made me feel numb…like a zombie, man…”

Yeah, see, I don’t understand that. At THAT time, anxiety and depression physically HURT my mind, body, and soul, so badly that feeling any sort of NUMB was a reprieve from the alternative option.

I started school, junior year of high school. I made friends. LOTS of friends. And a couple very, very close ones. I experienced the closest, most honest, and truest loving relationships with friends I had ever experienced on that level prior.

These RELATIONSHIPS were the real anti-depressant at this time. This still holds true as a fact, to me, that healthy, honest, mutually loving relationships are the best remedy for a depressed mind.

I feel that maybe…God let’s us get just the right amount of depressed in order to force us to expand our life and reach out for other relationships. Sometimes. It depends on the story he has for you.

But what do I know?

An overwhelming euphoria overcame me, the best feeling I had felt to date. Friends. Deep, connected, loving people in my life. I just wanted to give love and be loved. And my new friends wanted the same. We were high off love, I stopped using all drugs (after using them pretty frequently, especially marijuana), and never drank or “partied”. Just experienced life with like minded, loving human beings.

My creativity and passion, soared on the wing tips of my new found relationships.

But some relationships don’t last forever.

People rapidly change at 16. My new found friends found new found interests in drugs and/or new “boyfriends”.

Shit happens to everyone, I suppose.

But me, being hyper emotional and feeling as though losing my friends was like losing romantic love partners, my mind started to be clouded slowly, but fiercely, by depression.

Ugh, then the cycle! Depression leads to OCD, leads to anxiety, leads to depression, around and around and around…just takes a spark of something to start the demons’ cycle.

Sleeping through class all day. Back to marijuana. Reaching out, but now there really was NO body there, or so I perceived. Alone. Panicked. OCD thoughts returned with a vengeance.

People don’t ever have, In my opinion, a clear picture of what OCD looks like in ones’ mind.

The world views OCD as:

Weird rituals, sometimes due to anxiety about germs or disorganization; likes things organized to reduce anxiety; neurotic <well THAT can be true, haha.

A more realistic description, IMO, of OBSESSIVE AND/OR COMPULSIVE thought processes, for me and most others I’ve talked to with similar minds/diagnosed OCD, is that of my mind at this time in my life:

All of my actions and the thoughts I would willingly produce in my mind were determined by whether they met a set of guidelines, based off of the doctrine of Christianity, mostly, but also some arbitrary rules I’d created for my self.

Everything was “good” or “evil”, “right” or sinning".

I thought to myself, “maybe if I do everything God asks of me, he will grant me internal peace at last…”.

I rule followed and ritual abided my way with false purpose through life, irrationally believing that living this way would please God and grant me “a real life”, free of the mental burden.

I reached out for and tried to foster a couple relationship/friendships with other people, but they didn’t feel right. I just wanted to be alone.

My new escape from life, OCD. Plans, lists, cleaning, organization, exercising, every calorie and micronutrient counted for. Carried out the exact routine, every day. So much time devoted to the drive for the routine, no real relationships being fostered or created at this time.

The routine… the one I thought would grant me peace from God.

I punished myself heavily for “sinful” or “impure” thoughts.

Journal entries from this time are eye opening because you can see the conversations I had with, what I then and now call, the “demon”…

Thoughts the demon would produce and attempt to force me to carry out include but not limited to:

Feel like I wanted to be done, feeling tired, unable to produce one single more thought. feeling like I wanted to cut myself. feel like I wanted to kill myself in order to just…be done, be asleep, as simple as that sounds?

feeling like I wanted to starve myself to death, for the same prior reasoning.

Another mis-conception: Every person with an eating disorder, is doing it to “look” a certain way or because of poor body image, although our culture gives girls/women a good reason to have one for those reasons.

The mind of someone diagnosed and almost killed by anorexia:

I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t know any other way to do it without upsetting those around me too much. I thought, if I just don’t eat, I will die. I can blame it on…some sort of illness. I’ll deny I did it to the end, so they won’t KNOW that I killed myself. And I will suffer in the meantime, I thought, since I’d be starving and dizzy and wasting away..

I liked suffering, you see, very fucked up stuff, yes!

To this day, after reaching what I consider to be the healthiest place I have ever been in my entire life, and after having studied all mental disorders exhaustively, I am not exactly sure why I obtained pleasure from hurting myself, all the time, in all sorts of ways, at that time in my life.

The thoughts that lead to THOSE (self harming) feelings, were and are SOMETHING else, not me.

Call it a demon, as I’ve labeled it, or whatever, but it’s not ME controlling them…and well…

We all know that thoughts lead to beliefs leads to actions, leads to REALITY.

Philosophers could argue what the demon was and IS…but it’s not ME, it’s not what I ever wanted to be…

You don’t have that perspective of mental health at seventeen or eighteen years old. Thoughts are you and you are your thoughts,

Good or evil,

And let me tell you a secret…

The demon, OCD, whatever you label it, puts a lot of evil thoughts in your brain without your permission.

A lot of “worse case scenarios”.

But not just thinking them, experiencing them! visualizing them! playing them all out, one by one, from least worst case scenario to best worse case scenario (following?)..just like a detailed movie.

And watching that movie makes me anxious. It makes me feel a great desire to engage in a cycle of “action checking” in order to prevent the movies from becoming reality.

“Action checking”. Basically just anxious thoughts running through your mind, making sure you’re abiding by “the rules”, again, to make sure your visions never become reality.

My rules waxed and waned and came from no where in particular. The demon himself, perhaps!

Unfortunately, my SELF was not given mercy by the obsessive-compulsive nature of my mind.

Self-hate. Lots and lots of self-hate, brought on by obsessive thoughts about my imperfections. External, internal, and otherwise.

I knew I was different and “troubled”, but my internal will told me that I wanted to be “normal” more than anything, so I could be, so I thought, happy. Finally.

The depth of disordered thought processes and the depth of my mind remained secret; I maintained appearances; never quite “normal” per society’s standard, but flying enough under the radar to get by unnoticed most of the time.

That wasn’t healthy what I did, stuffing down and hiding symptoms that would occasionally, semi-frequently, drive me to suicidal ideation.

Suicidal ideation: something for me that I became aware that I would do during depression, mostly, but sometimes for not that much of a reason at all.

I “learned” to not act upon my impulses by sleeping. I could dream of being dead all I want, in bed, in my dreams, which would wet the appetite of the demon and take the urge away long enough to go away.

17. Senior year. My parents allow me to finally start taking Ritalin for ADD, something I was diagnosed with a few years prior.

I don’t blame my parents for not giving me medication sooner. They had their valid reasons, namely that I was born with a heart condition known as SVT, something thats could “flare” up, even silently, for the the rest of my life. It’s basically a fucking fast and out of control as hell heart beat that if not returned to normal within a certain amount of time, can cause death.

Stimulants + rapid heart condition = not a great mix. Totally get that.

But starting Ritalin changed my life.

My grades go from at most B-, mostly C’s, a couple D’s as the norm… to straight A’s my senior year, including advanced placement Spanish, Art, and anatomy/physiology. What the hell?

It really was a wonder drug for me academically, socially, emotionally…essentially I realized that whatever I have going on in my head to encourage and produce my actions (perhaps, ADD? But I hate definitive labels..) is calmed by this medication.

I don’t care about anyone else’s argument for or against the medication, for me, it changed my life TREMENDOUSLY, and if that puts me at greater risk for dying of a heart condition, so be it.

During this time I continued to maintain my anxiety levels (thoughts) through rituals and organization.

I returned to a fly-under-the-radar functional state my senior year of high school, in most part due to (I think/believe): Ritalin, Paxil, recent graduation from therapy, the ease at which school came to me at that point, the endorphins from running constantly for cross country, and having hours to decompress every day in senior placement art, where I could create whatever I could get my hands on, releasing TONS of negative emotion.

I was feeling so good, I stopped the Paxil cold turkey, mistakingly thinking, like many people do, that I was ‘cured’ and that I could handle things on my own without medication.

Most would, as I did for so long, call this a mistake, as it is true you should never stop an SSRI antidepressant without weaning from it per doctors direction. It actually can be life threatening to stop it in this manner, which I didn’t understand at the time. However, I don’t regret that decision, because it was a part of the matrix of decisions that I have made to get me to the current place I am in my life, with you. But I would never advise someone do this, just a quick call to the dr if you want to wean from medication.

I did ok. I went to college. I did what my parents recommended, which is actually wise for a young adult searching for direction and guidance for the future. They are highly successful. They claim to be happy. Copy, paste. Yeah, I’ll reach for that. Goals arbitrarily decided.

18-26 was a blur, just moving towards the aforementioned goals.

Roller coaster of emotion, dissociated from it with humor, no talk of emotions to ANYone. Not one single person knew even a twentieth of the capacity at which my mind could function “normally” under dysfunction. Private life. Secret life.

Lonely life.

What is true to me is my reality, and no one else.

Therefore, I’ll use the word true to describe the feeling of having a real, understood, raw connection with another person. Something I can not explain to you, only I know.

There was no one true. There was me on the “surface” to all of those around me, people only received glimpses when i fucked up at hiding myself. Reaching out, not sensing what I need. Who I need. Who did I need? What did I need?

In private, there was crying on the bedroom floor, crying until my pillow literally dripped with tears, heavy emotion brought on by everything, nothing. Everything just feels like too much. I can’t keep up with this life. I don’t have the energy. I can’t appease the demon. I can’t live up to his standards.

cutting my body, hiding my cuts, loving the pain when my sleeve brushed up against the cuts, hating myself for being so “fucked up” to do such a thing, chugging vodka, gin… or really anything intoxicating…as much as I could, often alone.

Feeling my body for imperfections.

Finding them.

Disgust.

Barely keeping myself from cutting at them. It would feel so good…but why?

This is confusing.

Moment of clarity: why am I doing this? Why do I want to CUT MY BODY? Why does it feel so good to hurt my self?

8 years, always had my finger on the mouse button, cursor on the “submit appointment request” button on the website offering free mental health services to students/young adults.

I knew that my mind was not operating healthfully, but I knew what getting help meant.

It meant that they would recommend I stop the things that comforted me the most. The addictions, the things that numb, the obsessions and compulsions. You see? The demon is self preserving, it makes you think you can’t exist without it.

If I couldn’t get to the bottom of why my mind functioned the way it did, I felt no one else could either.

(It’s ok, because now I know why it functioned/functions the way it did/does, and it was all for the purpose of getting me to the moment I am at today, with you.)

I lived during this period of time feeling as if I was living a life “not worth living”, and I was, in a way.

Life was torture. And that leads to guilt; you see what everyone else sees, a lucked-out-at-life girl in the least bit of tortuous surroundings.

You don’t know why, exactly, that life’s torture.

It’s like your true self in the depth of your soul is looking for an answer to a question that can’t seem to ever be fully answered. You can’t quite grasp onto what the question is, so you damned well don’t know the answer.

But some thing is telling you to ask and seek with insatiable thirst. A thirst that leaves you depressed and strung out, ready to give up, if not attempted to quench.

Mind expanding, opening to what the question, what the answer, could be?

At this time I THOUGHT I had expanded my mind to its max capacity of being “open minded” (don’t we all usually think that?), but the quench was still there; anxiety and overwhelming fear creeps in. This is it? This can’t be it, the thoughts are still there!

I’ve expanded and opened my mind! I don’t understand, what do I want? What is my goal and purpose in life? Who is God? Does God even exist?

Wait!

These are..

The Questions.

Ok, now I just need the answers.

My arbitrary goals as previously mentioned, start becoming met, each without any increase in my subconscious goals of peace and happiness, or answered questions.

But with the hope that they were part of the answers to my questions, I kept going.

In retrospect, It seems a root of my anxiety was perhaps having an extremely philosophical mind? Brought on by a tremendous volume of thoughts and rapid thought cycling? Perhaps.

If you could think about a facet of life, I felt I had thought it, especially compared to those around me. My mind was on overdrive, I couldn’t Intake enough stimuli to wet my appetite for answers and knowledge.

I knew deep down that having my mind had to be a positive energy for the world somehow, I could sense others pain and emotion, after all. I had pain when others had pain, and found pleasure in expressing empathy and helping others reach a positive energy and mindset. I started to feel an ounce of self worth, for the first time ever.

I started to wonder if my purpose was revealing itself slowly? Could the fucked up mental health cards I had been dealt, been dealt by God on purpose in order to experience what I had experienced, so that I could have the capacity to truly and completely empathize with others?

Maybe. God’s purposes are all in love, after all.

At some point in college:

After one of the many times I felt I could not handle the internal me, when I realized I hadn’t found answers..

I think, so let’s try to fix this “mental instability” issue one last time. Let’s step back. What piece of knowledge or eternal truths or WHATEVER will take away the anxiety, the compulsive thoughts and actions, the depression, the desire to leave this lifetime…….away? Let’s get to the bottom of the questions.

I want to be normal. There’s something I’m missing. A piece to the puzzle. I’m going to try to get better. I’m going to try harder.

25. Insert mass amounts of knowledge intake. Every subject I could think of, googled, documentaries galore. I had to find the answer before I lost all control. I explored answers to every question I had about life. I practiced yoga, meditation, vegetarian dieting, positive thinking practices, sleep hygiene, effort, effort, effort…. not working…..anxiety exponentially worsening because I felt like I just gave all my energy into last ditch efforts to be “normal”, and even my greatest efforts could not set me free me from who I was.

26. Depression creeping back in. The weight of the world.

I now know so much more information, but it’s only worsened my state. The more information I obtain about the world, the more depressed I become.

I can’t change it, I’m growing tired of trying and putting SO much EFFORT into life. I gave myself one last chance to “get better”…now what?

To be fair, I feel like through deep meditation during this time I had briefly understood, for a moment, that the point to life was to do and think everything in love, even to yourself. That is all. Nothing else.

God is love. We have God inside of us. Happiness is bringing out and remaining in Gods presence, love, as much as and as often as possible.

God doesn’t even have to be how you describe the one that can bring you happiness. Spirit, Creator, or just simply, Love. Call the force whatever it means to you.

I felt bliss for a couple days following this revelation, I had answered my question! I felt it! I really, truly, felt i had, at least part, of my questions answered.

But the bliss sharply faded as I quickly realized that even though i had the answer, not a single other person in my life did; Not that I could SENSE, anyways. Not in the way I understood it. Not it the way others expressed/claimed they understood it. It was like God had spoken to me, but I couldn’t share the experience with anyone, because the lock and key just didn’t work. If others truly understood what I felt, I could tell them anything about myself, and they would love me anyways. I couldn’t sense this as an outcome with anyone around me.

The actuality and depth of my revelation left me alone, feeling different, feeling frustrated with the world and God.

Why give me the answer with no one to share it with?

Depression. Hard. Fast. I’m 26.5, and suddenly I’m a different person, but I don’t know this yet. This hasn’t been revealed to me. I stop taking care of my appearance. I stop exercising. I couldn’t hardly make it work on time, getting late points for the first time ever. Calling in “sick” a few days because I couldn’t get out of bed. I mean, my body wouldn’t let me. There was no point. Suicidal ideation is strong now, but I’m experienced with my mind at this stage in the game. I don’t take the demon too seriously this time, I just know he’s there, and it hurts every part of me.

It actually frightens me to have such a clear perspective of the demon vs ME in my mind. This made possible because of the experiences and maturing I’d gone through at this stage in my life and, naturally, more matured mental capacities vs the last full force encounter with the demon with a teenagers mind and brain.

Cliche truth: The demon isn’t you. It can tell you to think and do things you don’t want to. Everyone’s demon is different in its manifestations, but the demon is real. Your mind CAN control you, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.

I heard it. Just nudging, nudging, pick up the pill bottle. Dump them into your hand. Feel them. Imagine them all in your stomach. Imagine the sleep. So amazing. It would be over, complete.

August. Springfield Missouri for a friend’s wedding. I feel done. I feel so, so, tired of opening my eyes each morning.

Drive there: praying a car would hit us on the highway and kill me. Praying hard.

Wedding venue: a very tall skyscraper in the downtown area; I can’t stop imaging bodies falling from the highest windows. I imagine myself falling. I calculate the likely hood of landing on a different balcony, of how long Id be suspended in air, free-falling before instant death?

Train tracks behind our hotel. I’m suddenly out there, on the tracks, eleven or so at night.

I don’t know what I’m doing, I just wanted to BE there.

Train is coming, my mind is telling me to play chicken with it.

I sit on the tracks. The train is coming. It’s headlight blinds me. It’s horn vibrates my entire body through the metal and wood of the tracks.

It’s exhilarating. I feel alive. I’m excited.

Suddenly: I’m worried I’ll ruin our friends’ wedding tomorrow. What if I don’t die and I just end up a vegetable? This isn’t going to definitively kill me, this isn’t thought out. This isn’t planned well enough.

Sat two feet from the tracks as it went by. Felt the sparks from the wheels grinding the tracks hit my legs. Felt numb from the sounds of the horn enveloping my entire body in sound vibrations. It hurt my ear drums, and I liked it. I think I still have some hearing loss from this experience.

But that’s ok, it all turned out OK. It was all supposed to happen.

If I had killed myself, I would have never been on earth long enough to know what I know now.

I felt ashamed about the train, but no one knew. I felt ashamed because that is not ME, that is not a decision I would make! The control, the power, someTHING had over me.

And then, one day, a few months later, clarity.

I was filled with empathy for all those who have experienced suicidal thoughts and attempts in the past, and for those who continue to experience them every DAY.

I have an advantage over the demon. Mental strength from fighting it since I was seven years old. Such an advantage.

I am filled with love when I think of all the individual souls, people, who couldn’t help but fulfill the viciously tempting will of the demon, at the time of their death. Their “suicide”.

For many people, the demon comes into their mind out of no where, full force with no prior experience for a person to use against it. They listen, because they do not know better.

See, rather than making the decision to kill themselves, they were walking a plank on a pirate ship, blind folded, stumbling to their death. They didn’t decide to do this.

Organisms are innately and subconsciously self preserving.

The pirate commanding them off the plank was the demon, of course.

Each person carrying a different demon, using different tactics, usually through thought of the mind, to carry out THEIR will. That is, to make a human end their own life.

This encounter-realization of “hearing” someone, someTHING, else, in my mind, scared me enough to call my psychiatrist and set up an appointment with a psychologist.

But at the exact same time, I started going on breaks outside a couple times per day at work with the “smokers group”. Mostly because I was so depressed I couldn’t focus on work. I couldn’t give less of a shit about anyone, anything, myself.

I was possibly facing the worse depression I’ve ever faced in my life. In the past, finding honest, true, loving relationships was the key to suppressing the demon. And this time would be no different.

In fact, the love that came from a relationship, is what would ultimately give me my answer to my questions. By changing my routine, influenced by depression, I met a person that would change my mind and life forever. A person that God used to communicate His answers to my questions for me. At 26.9 years old, I can honestly say, I have peace. I am not normal, at all. I am me.

When you’re depressed or suicidal, you may hear those around you say, “just hang in there, it’ll get better”. Bleg. Means nothing to a depressed mind.

But let me tell you, you do have the ability and power to find peace, even with your mental “differences” (experiences as I like to call them). Just be you.

This takes loving yourself for who you are. And to love yourself you must be and aspire to be who you love .Once you do that, you will attract people to you that love you for who you are. People that can know you better than you know yourself, sometimes, but that still love YOU.

The first step if you’re struggling with any mental health disorder, is to seek psychiatric help. Sometimes you need some help clearing the cloud, the demons directions, so that you can get back on the path YOU want. You may not need medication or therapy forever, but they are amazing tools, and are just interventions for an ill mind like anyone would do for any other ill organ in the body. Secondly:

Connections with other likeminded and loving people. Hate to say it, this may or may not be your family and/or current friends. Be open to making connections with anyone one around you, especially if they’re reaching out. You never know who is meant to be in your life.

Love in all you think and do. But it’s ok to not think or be lovingly at times, because that’s the balance of life, but just try. Can’t hurt to try.

I love you. I can honestly say that. To know God is to know Love.