#past your own problems and realise what the other person needs and see you are in a place where you need to give it to them

[jemmo]

hey so i read your "rant" about seonwoo and younghee and, if you dont mind i want to give my 2 cents on the matter (feel free to ignore this) but with seonwoo i think this insecurity about what other's might think, and his people pleaser nature shows in how much he cares about hyungjoon and minseong having a date. im not saying he is malicious, but this nature which he has said "that's how i am and im not going to change that" is betraying him. and will hurt ppl and himself: you can't keep everyone happy without someone's feelings getting hurt. (trust me this is coming from a people pleaser who went to therapy) i agree seonwoo needs to start prioritizing his OWN feelings, whichever they might be and start giving closure to those he can't see himself in. like you said, younghee could handle rejection. hell he has been rejecetd by seonwoo multiple times already. well maybe not rejected, but ignored and not being seonwoo's priority.

now yeonghee...his age betrays him. a lot. many times. he is adorable and he has won over everyone's hearts, like they all dote on him bc he is the youngest. and he, in kind, responds with more youthful reactions which are normal from a 21 y/o. like nobody bats an eye when in ep1 while junseong and seonwoo are bickering palyfully while washing dishes, he just paces around to watch over them. but if it was seonwoo people would have noticed in a heartbeat. these behaviours of a 2years removed teenager, again, are "normal" for his age, but should not be directed at someone who is 12 years older, and who sees said behaviours like they are: juvenile reactions of a guy with a crush.

i love your take about seonwoo seeing younghee as projection of himself, who couldn't live his life as a queer man in his 20s. bc whenever he is with younghee (i think of when they come back that lil twirl thing he does before opening the door), seonwoo just lets his younger self heal, but that is not romance. when seonwoo is with seongho he appears more reliable, friendlier, fonder. still, i can't call it romance on account that their age up is still 9 years.

anyway these are my observations, i don't know if i missed the mark on some aspects. so id love your take on them

have an amazing day!!

first off, apologies for taking so long to reply to this ask, but I find it rather interesting, and frustrating, that so much of what you said here still stands true for seonwoo and yonghee despite it being weeks later. and now that he’s removed from the sungho and junsung situation, I think it’s interesting that he acts so differently around people that are his friends vs people he still has some kind of romantic connection to, like he has made progress and moved forward in his relationship to both sungho and junsung with the help of hindsight and has managed to realise a lot of the places where he fell short in his actions. but bc he refuses to resolve the situation with yonghee, he can’t get to that point where hindsight helps him see how he’s made mistakes and his actions have caused hurt.

what I think these two need is to enter a relationship where they aren’t thinking about things so seriously. seonwoo needs a relationship where he can be at ease and have fun and feel secure and like he doesn’t have to please, he just needs to relax, and I don’t think yonghee can give him that bc he is being so serious with his feelings, with the strength and passion of them, that it puts seonwoo on this pedestal, and he would do anything for him, which means that he can’t see or won’t call out any of his flaws, which someone needs to do. despite how hard and emotional it was, look at how deeply it affected minsung for hyungjun to call him out on something. I think seonwoo needs that, someone strong enough and that cares enough to say something to him with kindness and clarity. just look at how effective and rewarding it was for him to learn something from sungho and see a different side of himself. he needs someone to see him, and not glorify him like yonghee does, and in turn yonghee needs someone that he can be calm around, someone that tells him to tone it down, that he doesn’t need to be actively trying to sell himself and show his good sides and change for a relationship, bc at his age that’s not something he should be taught as the correct thing to be doing. like he is enough, he is so enough, and changing himself to earn someone’s affection not only doesn’t work, but isn’t something he should feel like he needs to do. he has this incorrect notion that doing all this and trying so hard is romantic, and it can be when the other person sees and appreciates it, and when it doesn’t come at the cost of losing yourself, but by not saying anything against it, seonwoo just lets yonghee continue to believe that this is a romantic thing to do, when he needs to be told straight. and this thing he has with yonghee reminding him of his first love and more generally of being young and having those youthful, strong romantic feelings, it’s almost like he doesn’t want to crush that, he wants to hold onto this memory of him falling in love that strongly and not hurt that part of him he sees in yonghee that would have to be so strong and brave to behave this way, he doesn’t want to crush it.

I just think the relationship they have is so interesting bc I do think there are feelings there, but the strength of them and where they come from is so unequal, it doesn’t feel like they’re engaging with who each other actually are, instead they see these ideals of romance in each other that they want to chase and hold onto. and I think the kindest thing I can say about both of them is that they deserve to find someone that loves and values them for the people they actually are

[loonylupinblack3]

Jealous

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence

Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy

Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.

Usually.

Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.

He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.

So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.

“Calm down there mate.”

Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.

He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.

“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 

Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”

“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.

His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 

You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.

“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.

He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.

He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”

He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.

That was until he opened his mouth. 

“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”

Logan was going to kill this man.

You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.

“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.

He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.

The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”

Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.

Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.

“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”

The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”

“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”

Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.

“I think she said it all.”

He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.

Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.

“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”

Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.

Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.

Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”

“I had that handled.”

Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.

“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”

You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”

You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”

Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

When they realised MC loved them

This popped into my head today and I just had to write it. This first part includes:

Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Barbatos and Belphie.

As always I'll add more parts if anyone wants to see them, happy reading!

Lucifer

When you tried for him. Really, truly tried your absolute best, because he needed you to.

No other reason needed, no explanation, you threw yourself at a task or problem because he needs you. Be it schoolwork or some other activity, he knows you'll give it everything you've got.

You go out of your way to make his life easier, even in the smallest of ways.

It took him forever to realise why you did it, you might even need to tell him yourself, but when he does realise that you do it for him, even when he's not around to watch, he knows he's a lost demon. Lost to his own heart, held in the hands of a human.

Mammon

When you protect him, no matter what.

You're human, in the Devildom, a place you are not equipped to survive in on your own, but for him, for your Mammon, you'll stand in front of Lucifer himself.

Even when Mammon actually brought the punishment down on himself, even if debtors come to collect, you put yourself between him and anything that threatens to touch a snowy hair on his head.

When he realises this, it actually makes him reign himself in, he doesn't want you to have to protect him, and he knows he can't stop you. He's supposed to be the one protecting you damnit!

Still...he'll cry if you put yourself in Lucifer's way again, defending his heart to your dying breath, from the Demon King if you had to.

His human...his human really thought he was worth protecting.

Leviathan

When you made time for him.

Leviathan loves spending quality time with you, be it going shopping for merch together or just sitting in his room, on separate devices, playing separate games, just...being alone together.

He finds such comfort in you being around, but he doesn't always have the courage to invite you to things.

Still, there is the weekly anime marathon you two have kept up for as long as you've had a pact with him.

One week, you were rammed with exams, special ones tailored to exchange students, and he knew you were going to be too busy, too tired, to come binge anime with him. He knew, and he understood, despite the envy and sadness curling and pooling in the pit of his stomach, he braced for you to not show up.

But you came, bags under your eyes and pumped full of caffeine, but you came.

You promised never to miss a marathon, even when you were in the human world, you watched online together.

No matter what went on in your life, no matter where you were, you made space for Levi in your life, without question, without him needing to ask.

Levi still wonders if that'll ever change, but one look in your eyes when you smile at him like he is your entire world, tells him that place in your life is his, forever.

Barbatos

When you don't shy away from his mysteries, his power.

Lucifer himself is weary of Barbatos and his room of doors to a thousand pasts and futures, but you? You see him, not the terrifying power he holds.

You seek out those nuggets of his personality hidden behind duty and time, always promising a safe haven in your company. His smile is real when you put it there, and when you do things for him, just because you can, it baffles him.

Of course he recognises the love in your eyes when you look at him, but he's got no clue what to do with it. He's done nothing to deserve that sweet affection from you, but if you insist on giving your heart to him, he'll guard it with his life.

Belphegor

When you forgave him, when you truly forgave him, not just for what he did to you, but for his prejudices, for his hatred, the ones he's carried in his heart for centuries.

He's sure that you first forgave him for his brothers' sakes, not because you actually forgave him. You loved his family by then, he could see it. You loved the Devildom, you...belonged in it.

He felt like an alien in your presence, until you hammered it home, again and again, that you did forgive him, because you found reason to love him, you found reason to curl up and nap with him, to laze around and talk about nothing for hours.

You found something in him worth loving, and he never wants to give you something to forgive him for again.

[afterglowkatie]

someone better | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 2.6k | There was always someone better. You never felt like you’re enough for anyone, especially not yourself. Would anyone really miss you?

ˏˋ°•*⁀ Heavy themes include: suicidal thoughts, depression, low mental health, thoughts about a suicide attempt, intrusive thoughts, negative thoughts. Please read if you can handle things like that. sorry if it doesn't make sense, it's essentially a vent fic i just needed to get things out it's been a low day so yeah

The air was crisp. You could see your own breath, which would’ve been amusing when you were a kid but now it was a reminder that you were alive. You didn’t mind the cold, at least it gave you something to feel other than the numbness that had taken over your body. The rooftop access in your apartment building wasn’t secured and was never monitored so you found peace in sneaking up onto the rooftop to think and reflect. Seeing the city’s skyline, it was beautiful. A stark contrast to the awful thoughts that plagued your mind. 

Watching the lights shimmering below, all the people that wandered the streets below, all the people that were in their own apartments, yet you never felt more alone than you do right now. A bit ironic. Shakily taking a breath, you decided to sit lean against the edge of the building and let your thoughts consume you. There was no stopping it so why not let your mind run free when you’re in a space without any interruptions. Even if letting your mind run free meant it was slowly killing you in the process.

The thought of death was always in the back of your mind, occasionally making its way to the front when you thought you had exhausted all your other coping mechanisms. Another irony, when you were younger you were always afraid of death. Afraid of dying, but now more than ever it was what you craved. You would happily welcome death if it meant you could disappear from life to never return. Never having to face the pain and suffering of everyday life again.

It’s not like anyone would miss you, or even notice or care that you were gone. That was it really, no one needed you. A hard thought to stomach, one that made your head spin, that made you fall deeper than you already were. They all had someone better, someone more important to them than you were. You were always just someone they could use to fill the time before someone better came along.

Every time you got attached to someone, you’d eventually lose whatever friendship you had with them. A ‘filler friend’, you would call yourself. The one no one thought about unless they needed you or if they had no one else. Always a last resort, never a first choice. No one would truly miss you. They might say they do but a day later they’d go about life like normal and never think or say your name again. You knew these thoughts were irrational to an extent, although the part of you that believed that these negative thoughts were the truth always won. This was the truth that others were afraid of telling you. The truth you had to tell yourself.

You had convinced yourself that all you do is break, burn and drain the life out of others. Always trying to be the person they needed, the person they wanted you to be regardless of your own feelings and pain. Which you obliged, learning from a young age that all you had was yourself. Your own problems and thoughts were only yours to carry. Quickly learning to suppress emotions, fake smiles, and keep a bubbly personality around anyone else. No one needed to be burdened by you, your absence in life would be a blessing, even if no one else knew it yet they would realise not long after you’d left.

But that’s the thing, everyone else in your past had left or moved on. What made anyone else at Arsenal any different? It would be silly to think that this club would stay the same until everyone ended their careers. You all seemed like a family, but even families broke apart. It would also be silly to think that even if everyone separated that you would all stay in contact. Maybe for a little while but it wouldn’t take long before everyone drifted apart from each other, before anyone drifted apart from you. You thought you were easily forgotten. So what difference would it make if you decided to leave now? You were tired of trying to live. Trying to live to everyone’s expectations of who you were and who you should be.

You were more than grateful for how far football has come and thankful for all the fans and support from everyone online and in person. But with that continued to grow the expectations you had to live up to. You were the team’s ray of sunshine. Even the fans saw you that way. You were the one that gave everyone hope. Always knowing how to help lift your teammates up when they were feeling low, especially after a loss of an important match. You never wanted anyone to feel the way you felt now, the way you had always felt. Which is why you continued to put that weight on yourself.

Though being the team’s source of positivity and hope was exhausting. You were getting tired and felt that no one noticed how broken you had become on the inside. Slowly becoming a shell of who you once were, but you would try your best to never let anyone see. Especially not let your teammates see. You were good at that. At never letting anyone in enough for them to see how much pain you suppress each day. No one had to see how much you tear yourself apart just to be enough. To be enough for them, enough for a friendship you saw them all have with each other. 

Friendships were hard, you weren’t funny or interesting enough to keep anyone around for long. Your insecurities were always eating you alive. You found comfort in the coldness of the night more often than you would’ve liked to admit. Your midnight rooftop escapes were becoming more frequent, less time spent in bed and less time spent sleeping. It gives you more time to reflect. Typically hyperfocusing and reflecting on the way each individual group within the team interacted with each other. Always wishing you were enough to have a friendship that they all seemed to have with each other. Sometimes it felt like you were an outsider looking in.

It’s how it always went. You tried to put your all, your entire heart, into friendships and trying to keep connections with others. But it was all so exhausting and tiring. Past experiences constantly kept tainting any new opportunities. People in your past thought it was easier to constantly fumble and drop your heart, letting it shatter into tiny pieces leaving you to try to put it back together before the next person came along to do the exact same. You were used to the cycle, it had happened growing up within your family home life, within your last club, it was exhausting. It left you feeling constantly broken and empty and thinking that maybe you just weren’t deserving of a deeper friendship. Part of you likes to believe that you are deserving but lately it has been harder and harder to believe in that. It has become harder and harder to believe that if you stuck around long enough that things would change, that you would find what you were yearning for. But at the end of the day, who would want someone like you in their life?

Maybe you overthink too much, perhaps you let your mind have too much free range that it makes you believe these awful thoughts. That it makes you believe no one enjoys your company and that everyone would be better off without you. You didn’t know how to control them once they started. Your mind just taking you through each one of your teammates, showing you they were fine without you, better off without you in their lives. 

Though your mind would happily let you forget and not notice how much everyone in the team cared for you. How they had started to notice that you were slowly fading away. You never saw the hushed whispers and how the group conversations had started to slowly shift into others voicing their worries and concerns for you. You were always so lost in your mind during these episodes that you missed the way you gained extra attention from Leah. Leah was always quite attentive and never failed to notice changes in you.

Finally feeling the chill of the air, you blew heat into your hands rubbing them together. Leaning against the edge you looked down. The thoughts to end everything then and there easily slipped into your mind. It was high enough that it would be a definite permanent action, but you could never bring yourself to follow through. Though tonight, everything telling you to follow through with your thoughts were louder than they had ever been. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply. The cold air burning your lungs. The burning feeling you had become used to the more you spent out at nights. Somehow your body could feel numb and on fire at the same time. Perhaps it was just your anxiety but you would never admit to that. Admitting to your feelings is acknowledging that they’re there and that there’s a problem you had to fix. You’d rather pretend.

Looking down once more you were reminded of the one constant you had in your life. The one person who made you feel everything, the one that could make you believe life was worth living. Leah. Were you selfish for feeling this way when you had someone who would give you the world, who would give you everything she had? You felt selfish, that’s for sure. Leah was always enough for you, but there was that one part of you that wanted a friendship so similar to the friendship Leah provided for you before your relationship turned into something more than friends. Thinking about Leah gave you a semblance of hope. A continued faith that you’ll be okay in the long term, a reminder that right now was a short term feeling.

Turning away from the edge and the sidewalk that was calling your name, you decided to go back to the warmth of your apartment and the person who was currently occupying one side of your bed. Rubbing your arms, trying to defrost a little before climbing in beside Leah. You didn’t want to share the coldness that plagued your body when all she ever offered you was warmth, both physically and mentally. Leah looked peaceful while she slept, you smiled. It wasn’t big but it was real. Your smile around Leah was always real, no matter how small. You love Leah, and if you couldn’t live for yourself you would do it all for her. Eventually you would be able to do it for yourself, but anything that helped keep you here, keep you alive was enough until you could manage to want it for yourself.

Leah knew how much you were trying. She saw the pain in your eyes, she knew you well enough to be able to see right through you. You never liked to keep things from Leah, but you could never find the right words to tell her so you silently hoped she could see. Leah knew you went up to the rooftop most nights, but she also knew you were strong enough to pull yourself away and back into her arms when you needed it. She had followed you up to the rooftop, curious to see where you had been spending your nights. She watched from afar, worried since you were too close to the edge for her liking. But then she saw the way you were able to take yourself away from the edge and back down. 

Leah watched from afar for a little while. Every single time you came back down to bed Leah would give you endless amounts of love and support. Whispering words of encouragement and praise that you didn’t think you needed to hear. Leah trusts that you would come to her if your thoughts ever got too much. And as much as you wouldn’t want to burden her, you also know deep down you would seek her out instead of following over the edge of the rooftop.

Every time she was thankful to see you walk back through the doors to your apartment, to your room, even if you hardly slept she knew you were safe. Knowing that you wouldn’t accept the help from anyone if they offered it outright, Leah would help you in other ways. Subtle ways that you hadn’t completely noticed yet. Leah would make sure all the laundry was done, folded and put away. She watered all the plants you had forgotten about so they wouldn’t die and when you left this episode you wouldn’t feel bad for neglecting your babies. Leah would give you a routine that you followed each day so you didn’t have to use up the energy you needed to use to fight on something mundane, on something Leah could do for you. 

She wanted you to be able to give your all into this fight, one she knew you would be doing on and off for the rest of your life. But if it meant having you around then she would do whatever it took. Leah knew you were capable of taking care of yourself but she also knows how hard it can be to get up and fight to live every day. Leah was proud of you for continuing to get through every day.

Leah smiled when she woke up to you climbing into bed, before dawn she noticed which was a new record for you lately. Instantly Leah was in your embrace, the smile on her face just from your presence lulled the screaming thoughts enough for you to believe you could have some sense of sleep.

‘I hope it wasn’t too cold out there tonight,’ Leah’s voice was low and raspy, a mix of trying to not be too loud with it being so late in the night along with having just woken up, ‘Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold baby,’ Leaning down you placed a kiss on the top of her head, her thoughtfulness was comforting.

‘You don’t have to worry about me Le,’ You felt her body suddenly stiffen at your words, tending to overanalyse your words and thinking the worst, ‘You’re stuck with me forever babe,’ A small chuckle left your lips and Leah started to relax again in your arms. Maybe you weren’t a problem in people’s lives, maybe you needed better judgement on who to give your heart to. Giving your heart to Leah was easy, you know she’ll keep it safe. Romance always comes easily to you. Giving your heart to a friend was where you struggled. But now wasn’t the time to lose yourself again.

‘Never forget you have a place in this world. You’re special, important and loved,’ Leah always knew what to say and when to say it. It was like she could read your mind, which at times scared you, ‘I love you,’

‘I love you too, Le,’ Holding her close gave you hope that one day you could feel whole again, ‘Now, my love, you need to sleep,’ Even though she was in and out of sleep you could still cause a faint blush to spread across her face just from your words.

‘Only if you sleep,’ Before Leah knew it she had fallen back to sleep. Watching Leah sleep, you like to believe her peaceful aura would send you to sleep and that it wasn’t you falling asleep from pure exhaustion. Your fight was far from over, you were only just beginning but she gave you the strength you needed each day to make progress. Always reminding you on days you made no progress that waking up and living was progress enough. Making it through each day, no matter what, was enough. You were enough for Leah. You were enough for everyone else around you. You just had to believe to be enough for yourself.

[pix-writes]

"Ford is grateful for your patience and willingness to be involved in his life, especially as he knows he wasn't good at opening up to you when you were starting to become friends let alone a relationship." This is from Stanford HC, and I find it very interesting! How would he act at the beginning of the relationship? What does it take for him to become friends with someone, and that evolves into romance?

My thinking behind this part of my HCs is what Ford has been like through the series, he is shown throughout multiple media in the GF series, that he has continually pushed people away as part of his wound of feeling isolated due to his intellect and polydactly. Through this wound he's actually developed over the course of the series and his time in the portal a lone genius hero archetype that he wants to fit into, to compensate for the hurt he has continually felt from others and being an 'outsider'. (I could go into this in more depth about where this comes from in his childhood and how it affects his outlook when he comes across bill/building the portal, honeslty, but this is the jist of what I want to get across).

(rest under cut)

It's only really once we get to weirdmageddon and post-oddpocalypse, that Ford's arc comes full-circle into healing this wound for good --> as we know Ford has a fair few people in his life who love/care for him, in the past (Bill era) he was unable to see it, but once he exits the portal he begins to care for the twins and value them (and stan, even though he doesn't show it); this makes him take a similar route in trying to defeat Bill still largely on his own, because he doesn't want the people he loves to be in danger and blames himself for Bill's hold on their dimension, thus Ford thinks it's his problem to deal with --> Once they start working together to defeat Bill is the turning point for him to realise that he was wrong and that in order to defeat Bill, you have to work together. [I think he even says that he realises he was foolish for thinking he had to go it alone and that there are people who love him that he can share the buren with, I think in Journal 3 or TBOB (can't remember which rn).] I would argue that it's not until Stanley's great sacrifice in order to save the kids/the world, after screwing up the circle magic thingy, that reality hits him like a ton of bricks and he starts being more open and quickly starts to heal his biggest character wound.

So, considering this in a potential relationship, I think Ford, is generally closed-off, which hasn't helped him in the romance department in his life in the past! Whilst I can see the judgement of others and his outsider status socially would impact this as well, being closed-off and individualistic means that when he does come across someone who would be a good prospective partner, he just... assumes they'd not be interested or overlooks them because he's doing something important and isn't thinking of romance in the moment, so if the other person flirts with him he's not good on picking it up. [I'm finding this all terribly relatable!]

With the insecurity from his wound on top of this, it doesn't make for a good mix, Fiddleford, for example, was not only an assistant but quite a great friend to Ford that he didn't appreciate at the time and due to the added influence of Bill wanting to isolate him from people, Fiddleford ended up having his attempts of deeper connection being thrown back in his face! Whilst a lot of this was unintentionally done on Ford's part, he did tell him when he left that he "didn't need anyone". In the past at Backupsmore Uni, he says that there's not a lot of people he finds 'smart enough' to be on his level to be friends with - which is textbook classic defensiveness to reverse that 'no-one understands me' mentality into something that props up his ego instead. Pushing people away means that he won't have to face the rejection he continually experienced in his childhood, but it means he's potentially pushed away people who could like him as well!

So, I think that in the beginning of a budding friendship/potential relationship, Ford would not be the best at connection or communicating his feelings openly, he'd likely step on other people's toes (metaphorically) in social situations, without realising or meaning to offend someone.

That said, I think it'd be easy for him to become interested in someone who is clearly talented and intelligent, someone who similarly values higher education yet also has a similar love for that which doesn't fit the norm/is bizarre. Perhaps someone who is also deemed a societal 'outsider'. He's been feeling lonely for so long that if you're persistent and kind and can get him to talk on the subjects he loves, he'll start to see you as a friend. I think that being kind and thoughtful with gestures (acts of service) and gifts either to him or his grand-niece/nephew are other things that will make you stand out from the crowd, too, for him to see you as a genuine good person and friend.

However, he will struggle to open up and to let out his natural self (nerdy, passionate, dedicated, 'weird'), so it will take a while to deeply connect to Ford if you're friends, and even longer for him to realise you're interested in him romantically and to act on it.

I think in that stage of 'good friends that are attracted to each other', he would have fallen for you fast; but at the same time he doesn't trust that you are romantically interested in him, even if you have said that you are, part of his mind tells him that it's a trick, a joke. You might think you want to be with him, but you'll leave him soon enough when you realise he's so inexperienced in romance/relationships etc, etc. I think a lot of his old wounded mentality would surface and he's try to push you away, if you get together post-weirdmageddon, or would just shoot you down intentionally/unintentionally if you get together beforehand. Furthermore, he has been a 'loner' for most of his life, particularly after 30 years in the portal, so it's difficult at first in a relationship to share the more mundane things, since he's used to being on his own.

Ford would overthink things to the point of anxiety at the very beginning of a relationship and make it more awkward than if he just relaxed! ^^' He's a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to planning dates, too (reminds me of dipper with the list lol), though it's sweet, cause he cares so much to make it good for you! Once it goes wrong a couple times, you'll both find the humour in it and he'll realise he's being foolish again and relax a little. You'll have to give him reassurance and go at his slow pace in the start of a relationship and he'll find some confidence, probably quicker than either of you anticipated too! He's liked you for a long time by the time you get together, so whether he intends to or not his passionate nature leaks through ;)

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Cornelia Hale; a letter from the future

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Golden dandelions by Barns Courtney

it really is the little things. you've attained peace, and the tranquility of your life speaks louder than any demons from your struggles in the past could ever shriek. you just feel so whole. your journey of healing hasn't always been the easiest, but you can proudly declare that you made it. you have found purpose in life, and the future turned out to be better and brighter after all, despite how grim it may have looked before. in your darkest hours you swear you couldn't see a way out, but here you are. still standing. you lead a good life where balance plays a big role. you dared to step outside your comfort zone long enough to catch a one way ticket to a new way of life. a lot changed, and it changed very quickly. you experienced some growing pains when adjusting to these changes, namely the role reversals. you were so used to being the strong one, always left alone to pick up the pieces, standing in front of the mirror telling yourself to pull yourself together because if you don't then it's the end of the line, and then what would it all have been for? you were so used to having to do everything yourself and so often being a sturdy shoreline for everyone else's waves to crash onto. and you loved being needed and relied upon because it taught you that you were loved and that you mattered and people would miss you if you were gone.

but then you stumbled into a wildly different timeline. you were even suspicious of it at first. thought you had lost your mind or slipped into a coma and were stuck dreaming in some la la land. because suddenly there were people who would throw themselves at your problems and insist that they help you out, provide for you, listen to you, support you, take initiative and seek you out, and honestly? you had to break a few times before you realised that love doesn't have to be earned. you can just be loved. that you don't have to spread yourself out so thinly in hopes for some crumbs of affection and care in return for your efforts.

now you're successful and content. you are at peace. you love and you are loved. you have people to lean on just as much as they lean on you. you don't need to worry about your worth, what you do or do not deserve, or whether or not people appreciate you. for the first time in forever the ground beneath your feet feels sturdy and stable and you can trust the universe to keep you safe and sound. you have achieved more personal goals than you care to count. you have everything you quietly dreamed of and barely dared to whisper about lest you'd jinx it. now you're unafraid to speak your mind and spell what's in your heart out clearly and trust that it's taken care of.

02.

Shufflemancy: Surrender by Billy Talent

you're beautiful. that's something you can tell yourself with your whole chest now. at some point it may have felt redundant to tell yourself nice things or take ownership of your skills, but now it is genuine. you're no longer repeating meaningless words or competing with anyone, especially not yourself. you're perfect just the way you are. you always were, but you really feel like you can allow yourself the space and time to breathe. you're not following rules and measuring your success and constantly moving the goal post and cracking the whip harder. you see your own beauty and love yourself truly. you have come so far and healed such deep wounds. you had to acknowledge quite a bit of toxic behaviours and thought patterns, and those demons weren't easy to fight and overcome. but you're there now. you don't compare yourself to others and you find yourself doing things because you enjoy them. you've invited a bit of whimsy into your life, which in the past would have caused you so much distress because sudden change and unpredictability made you so anxious. relaxation and peace is no longer something you need to earn but something completely normal to do without guilt or shame or fear of bad consequences.

this genuine self love has made you feel so strong, like you could take on any challenge. but most of all it has helped you relate to other people. your standards and expectations were always so high, and you may have taken great pride in your abilities, but it wasn't until you allowed yourself to breathe and take yourself less seriously that you found yourself able to relate to and really connect with other people. you used to worry that your best wasn't good enough and even when praised you felt the need to improve to do even better, but this was alienating for people who just wanted you for who you are, not for what's on your resume. and you felt like you were always on the outside looking in, seeing other people do so many different things and succeeding in many areas of their lives, all while you felt stunted and unable to let go of control enough to let life happen to you too. but now life happens, and you don't dig your heels in, you're not afraid of the world, and you find comfort in the unknown because it's new and exciting, not scary. and your loved ones rejoice in how you've come alive. those closest to you have always seen you for who you are and have shed many tears for you in the past, hoping you could see yourself through their eyes. and now you can, and they're all smiles as they celebrate you and the life that you are living.

03.

Shufflemancy: Just a little bit by Kids of 88

it really feels like everything happened all at once so suddenly. one minute you're worrying about the future, grinding away at your goals, kissing frogs and getting stuck in the mud. faced with delays, constant upheaval, drama, burning bridges, rebuilding and trying again and again to throw yourself at doors that just would never open. and then another one opened, and though you were hesitant at first, going down that path turned into a whirlwind of sudden changes that rearranged everything in ways you would've never thought of before. and after all the struggling and crawling on your hands and knees half the time to get where you wanted to go, it was smooth sailing. and you swear time started to move faster. it's like you blinked and your professional endeavours blew up and you had to learn how to juggle to stay on top of things. and at the same time you got pulled in so many different directions, all of them so appealing to you. perhaps you felt like you had been manifesting a hundred different things and they all came knocking at your door on the same day.

but boy was it worth it! you feel so powerful now. independent and unshakeable. staying on top of things comes easy and you've mastered the art of multitasking. you have more time to spare and can frequently sit back and enjoy the fruits of your labour. you're pampered and adored, have an attentive and caring partner who is your biggest supporter and puts all the frogs of the past to shame. they adore you, and show their devotion to you in many ways consistently. the spark is still there and is kept alive with continuous effort from both of you. sometimes you fight but you never need to worry that it's the final straw, because the care and genuine concern for each other's well being runs deep and this one is truly a lifelong commitment. you both rest easy knowing that it's in sickness and in health and you truly meant it.

[galaxyedging]

College Max Phillips x f!reader. Friends to enemies to lovers.

WC:2.3k

Max is the ideal roommate until he isn't.

Warnings: Smut. Male and female masturbation. P in V sex. Dub con if you really squint. Overstimulation.

Roommate Agreement

“Max Fucking Phillips!” The roar leaves you as soon as you slam the door.

It echoes through the stylish yet modest off-campus apartment you can afford now that you have a roommate. An apartment that you will sorely miss when you can't afford it because you've murdered your roommate.

“If you're going to summon me like that, at least use my correct full name, Maxwell Fuckington-Phillips.” A head of over gelled hair comes around the corner to narrowly miss being hit by one of your shoes. “The third.”

“Don't! Just don't! Did you tell my date that I have baby fever and I'm just in college to earn my MRS?” Your tone is even and calm despite you wanting to rip Max's head off. He'll get what's coming to him, first you want confirmation.

“I was joking with the guy. You know, like when you told my date I was a STD ridden man whore.” He shrugs sliding onto the sofa.

“I told you that I didn't know she was your date. I know her from one of my classes. Plus, I wasn't joking. I saved her a course of medication and probably months of therapy from the serious regret she would have the next morning.” Your dig didn't even phase Max. 

The endless to and fro of barbs had started about three months after Max moved in. Before that the two of you were practically inseparable. Max had tutored you for a few months. To break up the monotony of studying, you would go grab something to eat and idly chat. For some reason, even though you were very different people, you got on well. When your friend pulled out of renting the apartment the day you needed to sign the lease, Max was the first person you offered it to. He took one look at the place and signed on the spot. The owner was an older lady who was just happy to have someone living above her store. The people who rented that from her commuted from the suburbs, leaving the whole building empty at night. Perfect for a couple of college kids. Until you realised that you couldn't stand each other.

“So what? You're just going to punish me?” You huff at him.

“Hey, if I don't get laid, why should you?” There was an undercurrent of genuine annoyance in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know if you know this….but women talk. My dick is blacklisted.” He looked sorry for himself at his admission.

It only takes about two seconds for the laughter you were trying so hard to keep in bursts out. “I'm sorry. It's just funny.”

“I'm glad I've found some way to amuse you rather than you being an uptight bitch to me.” 

“I meant the blacklisted dick part was funny. Not the situation, asshole. So is that why you're ruining my dates? You're jealous that someone else might get some? Fuck you, Max.”

“Maybe that would solve the problem. You caused this dry spell. Maybe you should moisten it.”

Trying hard not to gag at the imagery or the word moisten, all you can think to do is flip him off while you find your words.

“Oh, so you're the other kind of jealous. Not of me, of the guys I might bring home? Do you want me that bad Max?” Your pout at him leaning over in your date night dress so he can see right down the front of it and your lack of a bra.

“Please, if I wanted you. I would have had you months ago.” Max tells your cleavage.

“Yeah, right. My eyes are up here.” Walking deeper into the apartment, you head for your room. “Since my date didn't go well, I'm getting my best toy out. Her name is Jessica. I usually wait until you are out but I guess you'll just have to wear earplugs to bed.”

“You have fun with Jessica, try not to think about me too much.” Max bites at your heels as he catches up and brushes past you down the short corridor to his own bedroom.

Jessica glistens in the low candle light, fully covered in lube and ready to go. Even the scented candles and relaxing oils hadn't loosen you up enough to be able to give Jessica the welcome she deserves. 

‘Fuck. Who does he think he is?’ Trying your best to calm your thoughts you undo your robe and let it fall from your body. Licking your fingertips, you idly trace one of your nipples until it reacts under your touch. The other one gets the same treatment before you take the full breast in each hand and knead them gently. Eventually you feel the pull of your pussy needing your attention. As soon as you reach your folds, you find that Jessica might be up to bat sooner than you thought. Now that you're looser, your pussy is practically dripping. As you slick up your clit and begin to circle it, you tell yourself your arousal has nothing to do with Max. Nothing to do with the thought of him being all pent up and how easily he would come apart underneath you. Nothing to do with the thought of taking his pretty cock in your mouth. And it was pretty. You accidentally walked in on him getting out of the shower and may have dragged your feet, just a little, getting out of there. There is no denying that Max is hot but he is still such an asshole. Fresh anger flares in you as Jessica nestles deep inside you. The first button you tap brings her head to life rotating inside you. The second makes her ears twitch against your clit. Usually you would let the woman work and build you to a steady, satisfying climax. Tonight was different, gripping the base of her, you angle her where you need her and begin to pump her in and out, hard. With your free hand gripping the metal bed frame above your head the whole thing begins to squeak with your movements. There is not one single fuck to be spared for Max as your moans sound out just as loudly. It barely takes any time at all for you to reach the edge. Going over it a litany of curses spill from your lips. Laying there, head thick from your high time seems irrelevant until you need to pee and have to gingerly remove faithful Jessica from being tightly gripped inside your body. After you get the two of you cleaned up, you slip back into bed. Sleep tugs at you until you hear the rhythmic thud of a headboard against a wall.

Max already had a chub on at the sight of you poured into that dress but once he got a good view of the swell of your tits and a peek of your nipples, he was fully hard. He did intend to jerk off quickly, so he could just get to sleep and forget your fight. Then he heard it, the distinct low buzz of a vibrator. Fuck. He thought about your teasing your cunt until you came writhing and twitching on the cheap substitute for his dick. He listened as he raided his bedside drawer for some toys of his own. He filled his sleeve with some lube and pumped his long, thin dildo inside of it ensuring they were both covered. His pillows became makeshift pillowy thighs as he placed his cock sleeve between them in the middle of his bed. His cock twitched with interest as your moans grew louder. His own utterances of fuck and shit as he sheathed he cock were hidden under yours as you came. Max had to take a moment to squeeze his cock so he didn't blow his load there and then. When he felt the need pass he spread his legs to push his own dildo between his asscheeks into his greedy hole. He lays flat to catch his sleeved cock between his body and the bed. While his hips work back and forth he keeps the dildo still so he's either fucking or being fucked with each thrust. He doesn't give a shit if his moans sound pitiful. They are. He's so pent up and this feels so good. The sounds of your enjoyment still free in his ears and the sight of your tits still on his eyelids is the icing on the cake. He pants, moans and whines his way to his peek as he jack rabbits into the mattress. 

“Oh! God!” he moans when his eyes roll back in his head and his balls empty into the toy. 

He's so loud, he doesn't hear the door open or your footsteps on the floor. He only realises you're there when the bed dips next to him. In his blissed out state he doesn't care that he's laying completely naked with a dildo sticking out of his ass. He cares a little more when you nudge it further into him.

Whatever Max says is lost in his pillow. 

“Don't say a fucking thing. Don't spoil it, just shut up.” You make it clear that the last thing you want to hear is his voice. Unless it's whining in pleasure.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grins stupidly.

“What did I say?!”

“Don't be so grumpy.” He teases. “Are you going to play with my ass or what?”

You answer by pressing the tip right up to his prostate and rolling it up and down over the gland. 

“Fuck. Stop. I can't…” Max pants.

“Oh, poor baby. Are you over-stimulated?” You tease right back working the toy harder.

“Fuck. I'm serious. I…” his annoying complaints are cut off by your lips. 

As Max's lips melt into the kiss, the rest of his body tenses. His head snaps away from yours to bite down on his pillow as he comes again.

“‘uck me!” Is all he can grit out until he releases the thick material. “Fuck. That was…fuck. How did you…? Come on.” Max's earlier bonelessness dissipates as he drags you toward him while turning over and simultaneously removing the toy from his twice spent cock. 

“Come on. Sit on my face. Suffocate me with your cunt until I'm hard again then you can show me how to do that.” Half of that shouted from between your legs.

“Max! I…oh!” You almost squeal as his hot muscle goes straight for your hole. His tongue swirls through your release while he drinks it down like some crazed mythological creature who feeds on bodily fluids. He only pauses to beg you to blow him. Which you oblige to since the sight of his cock getting hard just from eating you out makes you eager to bounce on it. He grows bigger and thicker in your mouth while you do your best to suck in-between moans. Max has moved to sucking on your clit now the sudden intrusion of two thick fingers has you coming on them. 

Max might be a loser in the personality department but he's definitely a winner in refractory period stakes. His cock is rigid again in an impressively short amount of time. Swinging your leg back over his head you shuffle down the bed ready to straddle his hips and eagerly ride his cock.

“I want to be on top.” Max complains.

“Tough.”

His length drags against the heat of your core as he tries to buck you off. “Max!” You half moan, half chide. “No!”

It's Max's turn to moan when you trap his cock between your wet core and his body. He can't help but grind against you a little.

“This is getting us nowhere.” You huff. “Speak for yourself.” Max sighs, gripping your hips to slide you on his length.

“Max! Come on. Guess we could compromise. Doggy?” You supply.

“Fuck, yes.” Max ungraciously bucks you off of him to scramble behind you while you get on all fours.

Just as you get your balance, Max slides home in one fluid motion. For the first time in a long time the two of you seem to be in agreement. Both letting out sighs of contentment. Max starts to thrust and you stay firm to meet every one. It's rough and nasty, and everything you both need. The sounds of skin slapping and fluids gushing fills the room. The two of you moan, grunt and swear like vulgar animals. Sweat covers both of you from the effort of trying to out fuck the other. In the end the two of you climax in perfect sync. Max doesn't ask before finishing inside of you. His cum fills you deeply as he works you both to draw out your highs. 

“Looks like we found something we can agree on.” Max pants sprawling out over the bed.

Shoving past him to go pee you add “Yeah. Plus you are like seventy five percent less annoying during sex.”

“Wow. You keep flattering me like that and I'll think you're sweet on me.” Max called after you.

For a moment in the post coital haze, you think back to when things between you were good. At one point, you really did like Max. He was good company. Smart. Even sweet on occasion. He’s handsome, driven, great in bed. Entering the bathroom and not even stopping to flip on the light or close the door you move on muscle memory while the urge to pee gets stronger. You lower yourself down to the toilet….and almost fall in because the toilet seat is up. “Maxwell Fuckington Phillips…the third!”

[jxsterr]

something crazy that’s just crossed my mind is the whole thing of does zelda miss link while she’s stuck in the past? i know the memories don’t do shit all justice to tell us ANYTHING about zelda’s feelings on this whole situation but it does make you wonder. i personally think she misses him like he’s dead

because imagine this. you’ve been trapped in stasis for literally a century. you’ve watched all of your friends and family die. then your knight, the one you watched die in your arms, finally comes back and frees you. you then move into a small house together, it’s not much but it’s honest living. you spruce it up with decorations until you can both stand back and say, “yeah, this feels like home.” you live the next year or so quaintly, travelling around hyrule to restore it to its former glory as best as you can, all within the company of someone you hold closer than a best friend. he’s still there, even though he doesn’t have to be, and follows you ever loyally. you wonder if he’ll ever go his own way, but his insistence on remaining by your side makes you think otherwise.

you believe in the strength of learning, that the children of hyrule need to be better educated in order to solidify a strong future for the kingdom, so you build a school. you hire teachers and organise the school’s curriculum, taking part so much that you become a teacher yourself. he greets you every evening when you come home and plates up dinner already piping hot so you don’t have to worry about it. life continues this way, simple and non exhaustive, living earnestly beside someone who would extinguish the sun if it meant you’d smile. you love him, realistically, and he loves you too.

something stirs under the castle and, like the good princess you are, you go trundling into the depths below with your loyal knight to solve the problem. it bears endless discoveries, things you know you’ll stay up all night studying; things that bring you so much joy that he holds your torch so you can enjoy it without interruption. instead of the torch, he’s soon holding a shattered blade in his bloody hand, arm eaten and burnt raw by something that smells so vile it’s all you can do not to vomit. you watch the world fall into peril once more, and as you do so, you feel yourself falling to the exact same fate. you see the way he throws away legend and jumps after you, knowing that he is also falling to his demise. you see the fear in his eyes, the way tears cling to the corners of them and feel the burn of your own.

his plan was always to die by your side, and he will do it by any means necessary.

you wake up and he’s gone, your world is gone, and you’re somewhere new. two strange people greet you and quickly take you under their wing, and while a new world means endless discoveries, you can’t help but wonder if link is dead. did he kill himself alongside you, only for you to somehow survive and let him fall alone? the thought makes the bile creep up your throat.

who’s to say that, during the period of time where link is unconscious, she isn’t wracked with guilt at the realisation that he may be dead? she’s thousands upon thousands of years in the past, and his body may be the only one laid cold at the bottom of that chasm. would people even remember him? yes, he was the hero of hyrule, but he’d always kept a low profile. humble to a fault, she’d tell him. and the fault may be that if he’s dead, perhaps only her name would grace the lips of hyrule. the survivor’s guilt would eat her whole knowing that he’s died for her twice now.

so you can imagine her relief when she feels the pull of him and his sword. the relief when she can make her vow to him. the relief in knowing that he’s okay, somehow, and that he’s alive above everything else. but now that she knows he’s okay, what’s there left to do? well, miss him, of course. they’re inseparable and very rarely do things without the company of the other, she’s going to miss him like her right arm.

in the day she’s surrounded by people—sonia, rauru, mineru and her army of constructs, plus the rest of the people of this era of hyrule—but come the night, she’s alone. her bed lacks the warmth it used to hold, doesn’t bear the imprint of where her love has slept beside her. she’s painfully, irrefutably alone. she’ll step out onto the balcony of the castle alone and wish he was by her side, wish that she could just speak to him again even for a little while. for as long as she walks this hyrule, there is an overwhelming, gaping hole in her chest. she finds comfort in the presence of sonia, rauru and mineru but there’s only so much they can do. she talks to sonia about him. she talks to rauru about him. she talks to mineru about him. anyone who will listen to her speak of her talented hero, she will talk to.

she rides a construct and thinks of him. a steward construct explains to her the biodiversity of the land and she thinks of him. she spends her nights at her desk, quill in hand and illuminated by candlelight, and writes in her diary as if she’s speaking to him. it cuts her open over and over with every day she has to wake up alone.

when she decides the only thing fate has left in store for her is to become a dragon to aid link in the future, she weeps for days on end. she knows that this is it, everything she’s ever known will be beyond her forever now. she lives on in the skies, but her soul dies here. all those years they spent together building a life together, growing, all for nothing. they were cursed from the very beginning. ever since they fell to the calamity the first time fate has had it out for them. and so her last thoughts while she can still think are of him. she prays for his safety, for his success, and for him to have a happy and long life without her. she weeps knowing she’ll never grow old with him or get to experience the revival of her kingdom. it tears her from the inside out, and she screams even as a dragon at the loss. it’s overwhelming, devastating beyond any weight words could hold. she’s lost everything, lost everyone, and lost herself. she was doomed from the beginning. she was never meant to be happy.

so yes, the ending of totk should’ve been a HELL of a lot more emotionally charged. seeing someone you thought was dead AND that you worried you’d never see again?? she’d be crying for hours in his arms

[boyfhee]

CLOSEST FRIEND AND MORE ⋆ pjs

prompt · “i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you with anyone else.” “what does that mean?” “what do you think it means?” · requested

g · fluff warnings · light profanities, mentions of injury wc · 0.8k

note · writer's block is real and it sucks

“and then, that bastard, that cheating lying bastard, blatantly lied in front of everyone and said that, i pushed him during the game. seriously— can you believe that?” a scoff falls off your lips and you recall the moments from your PE class this morning, which more or less morphed into a fight between you and one of your classmates who claims to have been pushed by you in a game of dodgeball and sprained his ankle when in reality, he practically launched himself towards you and all you did was step aside to save yourself. 

and jay, he’s hearing this story for the fifth time today, in different narratives from different people, with more colourful words for the said boy being served by them on a silver platter.

“no, i really can’t believe that,” he responds sarcastically, eyes focused on the evening sky and then the road as a soft smile rested upon his lips, throughout the walk from school to your place. 

“jay,” you slow down, the extra emphasis on his name to get a serious reply, making him turn to look at you. you stare at him for a second while he mirrors the same blank look at you, before a faint sigh slips off your lips. “you’ve been really quiet today, you know?” 

and not just today but for the past four to five days. jay is a quiet person, actually, but not quiet quiet, not the quiet where you hear six words maximum from him in twenty-four hours. you wouldn’t say you and jay are super close or the bestest of friends and yet still, you can hear him whisper from behind you during classes, making you laugh occasionally, sneaking notes from under the desks, everything that makes maths more bearable for you and everything whose absence for days now has you concerned. 

“is that so?”

“mhm, i almost forgot your voice,” which is an exaggeration on your part, but you’re pretty sure it would have come true had the silence game continued for a few more days. “are you okay, though? is there anything you’re worried about, anything you’d like to tell me?” 

a brief pause follows, a moment of silence yet again, filled with the shuffling of your footsteps on the pavement as he swings your hand back and forth, holding it a little tighter. “well, there is something i’m worried about but i can figure it out myself,” 

you step in front of him, getting a better look at his face and his eyes meet yours. “are you sure?”

“i am,” 

you see your house now, the first one as soon as you'd take the next left. walks with jay are less frequent. he’s either busy with his other friends or after school stuff that your homeroom teacher assigns him, much to his disappointment. walks with him are less often but are always fun, hands intertwined as you both take all the time in the world to cover the ten minutes walking distance from school to your house, since he insists on walking you home everyday. 

walks with him are less common, this might be your ninth or tenth time, but they’re already something you look forward to ever since you wake up. you realise that walks with jay might be the only chance to get to know him better, and thus, you take the opportunity. 

“i know you don’t like stressing people out with your own problems and you rarely talk about them, but i want you to know that you can rely on me,” the two of you finally stop in front of your house and you stand in front of him, taking both of his hands into yours. “you’re one of my closest friends, i’m here if you never need someone to listen to you,” 

he has known you for one month, barely, and you’re asking him to spill his worries to you as if they’re your own, but how does he tell you that you’re the reason he’s losing track of day, noon and night, wondering if there’s even a little chance that you feel the same way as he feels towards you? 

“i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you, with anyone else,” but the words escape his mouth, leaving him surprised too, as if he has lost control over his thoughts, letting his heart take over his mind, allowing it to make all the decisions. 

you feel your heart skipping beats and pacing relentlessly, quite sure going to pop out of your chest any second. “what does that mean?” 

how does he tell you that you’re the one making him worried with all these feelings that he has for you? 

“what do you think it means?” and the smile on your face morphs into hesitation, heat rising up your cheeks as he takes a step towards you. another string of silence follows as you try to come up with words, but before you could even sort out your thoughts, jay beats you to it. “see you tomorrow,” 

and that’s all he says before walking away, because you consider him one of your closest friends, so how does he tell you that he’s inexplicably in love with you, and that he wants to be something more? 

[ickle-anthology]

I’d like to be optimistic and say this will be short and sweet, however it has grown increasingly apparent that I do nothing by half measures. I suppose if you’re going to do a job - do it properly. Go big or go home, right? 

I’m trying to learn how to set healthy boundaries, which is extremely challenging for an empath that feels everything as deeply as I do and has been through the things that I’ve been through. I suppose my need to people please stems from wanting to help and lighten the load in anyway possible for the people I care deeply about at the expense of my own peace. It’s even more unbearable when I have walked in their shoes with and know what it’s like when you have nowhere to turn to, unfortunately helping doesn’t always go the way I intend but at-least I can say I tried and gave it my all, and by doing so leaves my conscious clear and unburdened. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of awful things in my life, some worse than others and some that have left lasting scars that I’m still sowing up- but I actually quite like me, however I acknowledge that there’s always room for improvement. I have a long list of things that I can’t change but would happily sell my soul to the devil to alter. I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that some things aren’t meant to be changed and that no response is a response. Let’s be honest, you can’t be everyone’s cuppa tea otherwise you’d be a mug. 

You ever known what you needed to do but struggled to find the strength to do it? That’s the current predicament I’m faced with. The past few weeks I’ve had a lot of time to digest and reflect on the changes that have happened in my life - recent and not so recent changes. Up until recently, I considered myself to be a healed woman but I realise now that healing isn’t a linear path and the more I experience different things, the more I realise I’m still on that healing journey - and that’s ok, being honest with myself about it is probably the best thing I can do. I like to think I always look for best in people, that I can feel the good in them. But like with anything in this universe, there must be balance and everything that goes up, must come down eventually... I see the undesirable and distasteful flaws too, I don’t look at the world through a looking glass and I’m not as naive as some people may choose to believe. I have this uncanny ability to read people like books, and without a doubt my silence gets mistaken for an absence of knowledge, when it’s quite the opposite in fact. I’m a firm believer that you shouldn’t open your mouth and comment on something unless you know it’s accurate and have the ability to back it up. So with that statement, if you are on the receiving end of me opening my mouth about a subject, then prepare to be slapped with the unbias, and unadulterated truth - which as we know, can be more cold and callous than any lie. Everything I do, I do for a reason. I strategically and methodologically analyse every situation and every possible outcome of it so I am able to understand it but ultimately protect myself. One of my favourite quotes is that ‘the truth always prevails in the end’ and boy does it ever. 

It grows more evident the older I get that this ability I have to read people is an unconscious decision that stems from being hyper vigilant. It does present its problems though, like causing the feeling of being constantly stuck between the stages of fight, flight or freeze, it’s a blessing and a curse - one would say oxymoronic at its true core. Life has always been so black and white for me, and learning grey has been exhausting, both mentally and physically but truly worth it in hindsight. Im allowing colour to trickle back into my life slowly though and it’s given me the foresight to see the world (and the people in it) in a different light, just like a kaleidoscope. Up until a few years ago, I was always so sure of the person I was, but the past few years really made me question everything I know about people… myself included. I got hurt by people that I never thought were capable of the things they did, and lost people that I thought would be in my life indefinitely. Some things have become so deeply imbedded in my soul that they occasionally weep, so I guess you could say nothing ceases to surprise me anymore. I always say that I’m going to hope for the best and prepare for the worst but preparing for the worst has become somewhat of a ritual for me and I grow evermore cautious of hope with each passing day. 

Without a doubt, the biggest and hardest pill to swallow as of recent months has been that not everyone has a good heart just because I do. More importantly, just because I treat people with kindness, understanding and compassion, doesn’t mean I’ll receive the same treatment back. I’ve realised that over the past few weeks that it reflects more about them and their character, than it does me. Not everyone has the same moral compass as me, nor everyone has a big heart full of love like me and some people are only interested in saving their own skins - don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with protecting your peace. But there’s a difference between protecting your peace and remaining silent and then lying and stonewalling those individuals, especially when they try to communicate in a healthy way with you about a problem. We all mess up, but I think what’s important is owning your behaviours. It’s come to my attention that not everyone I’ve crossed paths with have spent the time looking at their own maladaptive coping mechanisms. They haven’t given themselves the respect to understand or recognise where the dysregulation stems from, and as a direct result from that, it allows for an inability to correct their behaviour at its root stem and be better in the future - so they are just stuck in the same cycles. I’ve realised that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink, and if this is the bed they chose to make then let them sleep in it. Theres nothing wrong with feeling emotions in that precise moment though and giving yourself time to sit in your grief, but I emphasise that no joy ever comes from wallowing in them for prolonged periods of time and there is a time where you will have to deal with those feelings and situations head on before they swallow you whole. 

I think for now I’ll enjoy sitting back, remaining humble and continue to people watch. They say time heals all wounds but I think time only gives us the ability to reflect and process those wounds. If we don’t deal with the monsters under our beds, and the damage they cause to ourselves and others, then they never really go away - they just get better at hiding by wearing a mask. Inevitably, they always trickle back in and just like clockwork, they always come full circle. Poetically, it’s always at the least desirable moment and before you know it, you’re weeping through the cuts you scrambled so desperately to bandage. The right path is not always the path with least resistance, we all know what we need to do but it’s just finding the strength to do it. You really do get back what you put into the universe.

[littlemissstel]

Confirmation- Shiu Kong

slight angst with happy ending, no use of (Y/n), use of 'Doll', not proofread

blush divider by @bernardsbendystraws

cyber divider @saradika-graphics

You and Shiu were growing apart. Were? You have grown apart, more than you had ever meant to in the first place. When you were younger you thought that was just a silly excuse people used because, "If you really loved someone then how could you grow apart? Why wouldn't you catch it sooner?". But now you've come to understand that it isn't as simple as that, you just wish it didn't have to be through experience.

Nothing happened to mark the start of this new period, no fights, suspicion, change in personality. The problem was that nothing happened at all. At some point the mid-day calls stopped coming, the texts that read, "This made me think of you", the spontaneous gifts and actions of love...The "I love you's".

But you did love him.

The two of you just got too comfortable in your own routines that there was no need for expressing admiration for the other because they would always be there, right?

You had only realised after an outing with your friend. The two of you had met for dinner, getting dressed up, with your hair in a style that took longer to do than it lasted- but it had been a while since you had any reason to and you felt special. The night was at it's peak and through the windows you could see the heard of party goers in practically transparent clothing, you and your friend sitting front and centre to watch as they went by.

"Uhhggg that should be us right now, you know! We used to go out all the time, what happened with that?"

"I'm not really sure, I think I've kind of slipped away from the club scene but we should go out again sometime soon"

"Good! Because you have no idea- how shitty these dating apps are. You know how i felt about them in the first place but I thought ,'you know what, why not give it ago'. The worst decision of my life-"

You cut her off with a burst of laughter, rubbing your fingers soothingly against your temples.

"Don't you think that's a little dramatic?"

"No, not at all! You don't understand, it's like they're rationing the good guys for us single people. I have no idea how you found Shiu but pleeaasee, if he has a brother, hook me up"

You couldn't keep up with her antics, your laughter gradually becoming gasps for air while she continued her passion filled rant. As the conversation went on you couldn't help but think about your own relationship, you didn't mean to ruin her view on it, but with the more examples she brought up, the more you realised that the romantic gestures you did were a thing of the past- heavily outdated.

From that day on, your awareness of the situation had grown and how you hated it. The apartment was often empty, rarely were the both of you home at the same time and when you were you felt like roommates rather than lovers. Shiu was constantly stressed, you had no idea what about - when you tried to ask him he quickly brushed you off - and any attempt at displays of affection seemed unnatural. You didn't know anything that was going on in his life and vice versa.

You were trying, but a conversation about it...maybe now wouldn't be the best time. You weren't quite sure how to bring it up in the first place. But you knew with every passing day, the hairline fracture between the two of you deepened and you felt the loss swallow you whole. Every rejection was a heartbreak. You were just too far away.

It took another month for you to gain the courage to address the problem. Truth be told, you could have done it before but you refused, not wanting to ruin the rare moments you two shared each others presence.

Which is why you hesitate to do it now. The both of you on the sofa, a noticeable distance apart, on your own devices.

"Shiu, can we talk for a minute?"

He looks up slowly.

"uh-huh...is something wrong?"

"No. Yeah a little bit but it's no ones fault." You start, taking a staggered breath in. Your chest starting to tighten and you became hyper aware of yourself as he gave you his attention. Your hands begin fidgeting with each other, trying to preserve any last sense of comfort.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we've been so distant lately. We barely even talk anymore and when we do it's never past the bare minimum. I know that people go out of the honeymoon phase and it's normal, but I really don't want to be like this. Not with you, that was never us."

"This sounds like break up talk Doll."

"No! I didn't mean it like that! You have no idea how much I love you, I just have a problem with how we've been showing it."

There's silence for a minute as you both stare, intently waiting for a reaction as he drags a breath.

Shiu knows you're right. He's felt it too but the highs were just high enough to forget until he could repeat the cycle all over again. He never thought past it just being normal, after a while couples stopped needing to do 'couple-things'. His parents, as loving as they were, never went out on dates and he couldn't recall a time he'd seen them kiss or hug because they just didn't need to. They had been together for a long time, just like you and him, they had kids and were married so what other proof did they need? No one would've thought to question it. But seeing you now, in front of him, struggling to find the right words to say...It didn't feel right.

You had gone into your separate worlds, only to return to each other at night. But when? That wasn't him? The him that loved to buy you flowers to keep on the kitchen table, the one who savoured every embrace and rued getting up in the morning. The other kind of life, it wasn't for him.

He moves his spot closer to you before taking your hand and squeezing it.

"Then we'll fix it. We can go on dates, just how we used to when we first started out, okay? I won't take extra jobs and we can talk about our days over dinner or sit down to watch a movie." He says, watching as a smile makes its way onto your face.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

You engulf him with your arms wrapped around his neck gently, placing your head onto his shoulder while he supports you around the waist, a small rubbing motion made on your back.

"Thank you, I'm sorry"

The kiss he places on your head releases the tension of your longing, carrying with it the missing confirmation the both of you had lost all too long ago.

"I'm sorry too."

low-key wanted to make it soul crushing but got over my bad mood before it could happen😔watch out

Please feel free to leave any idea/recommendations

[astrangetorpedo]

On New Year’s Eve, during a house party at her home in Richmond, Virginia, Lucy Dacus had her fortune told. She thought why not. On a personal level, 2017 had been a wretched year – a steady conveyor belt delivering the 22-year-old bad news.

“This girl, who I didn’t even know, came to the party and gave me this year-long reading,” she explains. “Month-by-month it was so specific. So far, it’s kind of lined up.”

In the past Dacus has been sceptical about the prophetic powers of the tarot card deck, and was taught that the pentacles (coins) were a symbol of Satan. “It’s hard to look to the future and see nothing, to know nothing,” she muses. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen, but having something to have your mind bounce off is nice. That’s why I like tarot. It gives you something to reflect on.”

It’s all part of a fresh way of thinking for Dacus, a new “mood of just trying to be open to new things.” For so many reasons the past year has been one Lucy Dacus is keen to put behind her. “I guess I could just list things,” she says laughing, but not joking. To begin, some of her close family suffered health problems, compounded by her own serious issues including a bout of appendicitis that forced her to have surgery. She was attempting to buy a house for the first time, a process that proved “trying”. Three of her tours got cancelled.

“It was a little bit miserable,” says Dacus, sitting in an east London cafe. “Towards the end of the year, I just had to laugh… Like, come on!”

Interwoven with these practical challenges she was having to navigate something much more troubling. “I got out of a relationship in 2016, which I was waking up from in 2017 – realising that it was abusive,” she begins. “Letting myself say that, it took many months to come out of the numbness… to stop being brainwashed. So, that’s all been a growth. It’s ended up being positive, but it is difficult wondering how I let that be a part of my life for so long.”

Deepening the ordeal, still, this year of personal upheaval was set to the backdrop of Trump’s first 12 months in office. A vociferous supporter of Bernie Sanders through the 2016 election campaign, Dacus is a passionate advocate for equal rights, attending marches and collecting donations for community organisations at her shows. To have Trump sat in the White House representing her country, she says, felt – feels – “horrible”. “It’s just absurd and I feel like I’m in an alternate universe,” she says. “It’s really hard maintaining hope.

“Coming to Europe I’m embarrassed to be an American sometimes, but then I just have to hope that people know that I am not part of Trump. I’ve thought about wearing shirts at the airport – just like ‘not my president’. In little ways I just want to assert that opinion.”

And then there were the disturbing revelations surrounding Harvey Weinstein (and subsequently many other men) revealed in Autumn 2017, that opened out into a global conversation around the abuse and harassment of women.

“It’s been nice coming out of that really terrible relationship during a time when women are speaking up more. It feels like I’m allowed to say these things now,” says Dacus, crediting the #MeToo movement. “All these horrible, heartbreaking stories of women being mistreated are at the forefront but the solace that people are doing what they need in order to find closure and help each other prevent that happening ever again. For one of the first times I’ve been noticing male friends of mine actually examining their past behaviours.”

While there are some early shoots of positivity, the truth is, the culmination of all of these factors left the songwriter dealing with anxiety for the first time. “2017 was a new state of mind for me – and not really in the best way.”

Lucy Dacus was raised in Richmond, Virginia, about two hours south of Washington D.C. on the east coast. It’s a place sometimes described as “the biggest small town left in America.” The family home was in the rural suburbs and she travelled into the city to go to high school. “It’s hard to tell you in one answer how my whole childhood was,” she says. “It’s a large variety of things. Overall, I’m coming out with my thumbs up.”

In her household music was always there. Her mother is a piano teacher, as was her grandmother. Picking up songwriting was never a big deal, like a second language that was spoken around the house. “That’s how music is – like, it’s just part of my life,” she recalls.

Yet the dream of being a professional artist seemed almost so unattainable that it was invisible. In her late teens, Dacus went to college to study film but dropped out, primarily because she’d end up saddled with huge debt. “That, paired with the feeling of being misunderstood in my programme,” she confirms. “I just didn’t have a lot of like minds in my classes.”

That prompted a move back to Virginia where she took a job in a photography lab developing kids’ cheesy school photos. She’d been writing songs in her spare time and gathered nine of the 30-or-so she had together when her friend Jacob Blizard (now her touring guitarist) asked her to record them for his school project. Her 2016 debut album, ‘No Burden’, was made in one day in Nashville. Blizard passed school, and that album received rave reviews. NPR called it “vulnerable”, while Pitchfork said it was an “uncommonly warm indie rock record”. As a result, 20 different record labels reportedly scrabbled to sign Dacus. She settled on Matador, and began to prepare for what should have been a joyful 2017.

The first time Dacus remembers assuming the role of historian she was seven or eight-years-old. She was writing in her journal – and she smiles now recalling her first entry. It complained about how the babysitter spent the whole evening on the phone to her boyfriend. “There’s a point where I realise I’m journaling and so I stop and go, ‘I should probably introduce myself… I’m Lucy’” she laughs, remembering it clearly. “It’s really cute.”

More than a dozen notebooks, and many years later, she still keeps a diary now. Sometimes she writes every day, other times, weeks go by and then she fills 20 pages. Occasionally she flicks open an old one to either “laugh or cringe” at her younger self.

‘Historian’, then, isn’t just the title of her latest album, but also the way she thinks of herself. A chronicler, of her own experiences, but also those around her. Those pages aren’t just a document of a growing maturity, but also a therapeutic habit that helps make sense of many life events, including that recent damaging relationship. “Seeing that it had been broken for the whole time but that I was just oblivious to it, [reading about] it helps to accept that things didn’t change,” she says. “I just saw it for what it was finally, and so perspective is good.”

Those handwritten journals are sacred, which is why, when her tenth one was stolen on tour a few years ago along with a bag of possessions, it was the notebook she replaced first.

The album itself is a recent history – a narrative burrowing through those myriad dark times. Dacus knew that she wanted it to form a complete story, and wrote the track list before some of the songs. “It’s an arc” she says, that begins in a “relatable place” with the only break-up song she’s ever written (‘Night Shift’) that subsequently delves “deeper into darkness.”

“Then the subject matter gets a little more intense,” she tells me, “– going through identity crises, or loss of home, or loss of faith, loss of a loved one, loss of your life. I feel like I’m pulling people into an uncomfortable space.” She pauses. “There’s then a change where hopefully I’m turning on a light and saying, ‘Yes, all of that exists, but it’s a foil to joy.’”

It is an extraordinary piece of work. Musically it’s a colossal step up, reminiscent of recent albums by Mitski (‘Puberty 2’), Angel Olsen (‘My Woman’) and labelmate Julien Baker (‘Turn out the Lights’). The subject matter is heavy, but it’s never a dreary listen. In fact, it’s charming, funny even – like a brave smile emerging through a curtain of tears. And Dacus has a gift for lyric writing; like the eloquent way she pays tribute to the humility shown by her dying grandmother on ‘Pillar of Truth’. From first to final note it’s evocative and powerful. “The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit I had a coughing fit,” goes the LP’s opening line in ‘Night Shift’. “If past you were to meet future me,” she sings on the final line of the closing title track, “would you be holding me now?”

It’s heartening to hear that the contents of Dacus’ NYE tarot reading were largely positive. The forecast noted that she should enjoy the proceeds of her hard work, but that “something horrible happens in the summer, then there’s kind of a rebirth, growing back into, like, life in an even more knowledgeable and peace-oriented way.” Dacus is about to leave, and picks up a bag of books she’s been keeping underneath the cafe table.

“It could be wrong,” she says. “I’m not superstitious. I’m taking it in. When that does happen I hope I can take my own advice – let it be what it is, and look past it eventually

(x) 3/14/18

[meshla-cyarika]

Cabur

Pairing: CX-2 x gn!reader

Word count: 1,223

Tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, slight description of blood/injury, established relationship

Summary: CX-2 has come home from a tiresome mission and needs you to pick up the pieces of his lost soul.

Notes: CX-2 fluff anyone 👀? I've made it so he remains anonymous, so you can imagine it as any clone you like (I personally envisioned either Tech or Cody but it works with anyone). Sorry, it's a bit rubbish and short, but yeah.

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

Despite the fact that it is just past midnight, Tantiss base is still tingling with life. The pristine white interior contrasts the darkness of the jungle outside. CX-2 has just given his report to Hemlock and, even though everything went according to plan, the scientist still managed to be condescending.

Something stirs uncomfortably inside CX-2, when Hemlock praises him for his work. Taking down rebels, while murdering innocents caught in the crossfire isn't something to be praised for. Anyone in their right mind would spit words like venom at the assassin, throw punches till the bones beneath his skin turned into dust and leave his body unrecognizably mangled.

CX-2 had never questioned anything the way he does now, before he met you, before he started to be treated like a person. Everything changed, when he met you. Slowly, CX-2 started to become self aware and it terrified him, still does. He acts like nothing has changed, but inside his mind is screaming.

Gradually, he's starting to remember more - blurred faces of his brothers, bits and pieces of old missions, old routines. Despite this, he still can't figure out what his name is, or even his old registration number. Every file on the man he used to be was deleted, when he became CX-2. The same happened to all the other assassins.

The clone snaps out of his thoughts, when he realises he's made it to the door to your quarters. The durasteel door opens with a hiss and closes behind him. For the first time in days, it's like he can finally breathe again. As a chief medical officer, you receive your own private quarters, but it's nothing special and smaller than the one you had with GAR.

The clone peels off his black armour and stacks it on the floor by your desk. He practically rips off his gloves, that have too much blood on them to be able to wash off, and drops them on the floor too. The green glow of night vision leaves his sight, as he removes his helmet and is left in the darkness of your room. The short path to your bed is inbedded in his memory, so he has no problem peeling back the covers and slipping beneath them to wrap an arm around your sleeping form.

One of the only things the clone knows how to do perfectly is to not be noticed when he doesn't want to be. Although, now he's starting to second guess himself, because you soon stir awake.

"Cabur?" He sighs contently at the word leaving your lips. As you grew closer with him, you quickly started to hate calling him just by a number. After he told you that he doesn't have a name, you nicknamed him "cabur" - the mando'a word for guardian/protector. You think it's very fitting, especially after he nearly killed a natborn gaurd that got aggressive when you were treating her dislocated shoulder.

"Go back to sleep." He tightens the arm around your waist and slips his other arm beneath your pillow. You try to turn around to face him, but he holds you still.

"Just let me see you, cabur." You plead and he notices the lack of grogginess in your voice. You haven't been asleep long and he doesn't want to worry you. He gives in more easily than he wants to and loosens his hold on you. You turn over and you're just about able to make out his face in the darkness.

The first thing you notice is the exhausted look in his eyes and the dark circles below his eyelids. Then, you notice the patch running along his cheekbone which is soaked in blood. You hesitantly trace the bandage with you fingertips and he has to hold back a grimace.

"Let me patch you up?" You place your palm on the side of his face and absentmindedly rub your thumb in soothing motions just below his wound.

"You don't have to-"

"Of course, I do." I love you sits on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. You sit up and throw your covers off of you to stand up. He sighs heavily, before hesitantly getting up to follow you into the fresher.

A comfortable silence consumes you both, as he sits on the toilet lid and you slowly peel off the bandage on his cheek. The gash is two inches long, still oozing out blood and deep enough to require stitches. You try to hold back a sympathetic wince, but your expression must still give you away, as he says, "it's not that bad."

"Respectfully, cabur, I'm the doctor here, so I'll be the judge of that." You playfully quirk a brow at him to try and lighten the mood. Sometimes, after you gently encourage him, he'll tell you what's happened on his latest mission and how disgusted he feels. You know for a fact it's not going to be one of those long nights. Just by looking into his deep brown eyes, you can tell all he wants is to sleep. Who are you to deny him that?

The room falls into silence again, as you use an alcohol wipe to clean the crimson liquid off his face. He doesn't even flinch at the sting. Times like this, where you're patching up your cabur, makes you think about the GAR, before the Empire had a chokehold on the galaxy. It makes you think about all the clones you had tended to, not knowing how long they were going to live after they left your medical tent. All that bloodshed and death. For what? Everyone lost in the end.

Being stationed on Tantiss base wasn't by choice. Even though it's supposed to be very confidential and secretive, enough rumours of the horrors of clone experimentation has slipped through to give everyone goosebumps at the mention of it's name. Once you get put on Tantiss, you never leave, prisoner or not.

You used to live in fear everyday for weeks on end, but then you realised that it's not about you. It's about them. The clone troopers of the Republic. The fight is not over yet and it never will be till every last clone is freed from the Empire's grasp. You can't remember when you first started conspiring with Captain Rex's rebellion, it's been months now. You've given him everything you possibly can, except for Tantiss' location. When you were sent on a shuttle with other medical officers to Tantiss, the gaurds never told you exactly where the base actually is in galaxy and you havent been able to find out since.

"All done." You snap out of your thoughts, after smoothing a fresh bandage over his newly stitched wound. Your cabur says nothing in response, he just circles his arms around your waist to pull you closer and rests his forehead against your collarbone.

You can't tell him, not yet. If you tell him you're a traitor, he'll want to help you and get himself hurt. You can't watch him bleed because of you.

You sigh and remove your hands from his hair, grabbing his chin to have him face you. You lean down and press your lips against his and it's like drinking from an oasis.

"Come on. Let's go back to bed, cabur."

[dreamlandcreations]

Twisted fate

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (eventually)

Summary: After the death of her sister, the twin of Daenerys meddles with magic, trying to change the past and ends up in the era of the Dance as Rhaenyra's daughter...

Warnings: this is like a note for the idea of a series (so basically a teaser) 🤷🏻‍♀️, canon-typical stuff, Reader is on a mission, fix it fic?, it's probably a mess as I am... writing at 1-2am with no idea where I wanna go with this

You were born after the storm... for the first time. While your twin was called Stormborn, you were given the not-so-catchy name of the Flame of Dawn after the red skies that could be seen at the time you had drawn your first breath.

Life was difficult for your sister, it seemed she had to bear all the burdens but you were always eager to learn. Dragons and Valyria being your favourite subjects but as soon as you were free to do so, you started to learn other things too. Your knowledge came useful when the dragons were born but flying them was seemingly not meant for you. You found solace in fighting and learning to use the magic in your blood.

After the war you asked Bran to teach you to see. First, it was just curiosity, as you wanted.. no, needed to see history with your own eyes. However, you soon found out that you can connect and perhaps shape the past through your visions. Bran warned you against it but you didn't listen.

You became obsessed with fixing the events that lead to the demise of your house and family. You have spent a lot of time observing, especially the Dance of the Dragons. Those events were the true end for the House of the Dragon, however, you wanted even more than they had and ventured back to Aegon then tried to see what you were most curious about. Valyria.

As you went further back, you found that some members of your family had stronger magic and could sense your presence. Although none like the dragonlord you came across in your first glimpse of your ancient home.

He lectured you and punished you by trapping you in the past.

You were born during the storm... for the second time.

Your memories of your old life surfaced as you re-learned things. It was a struggle until your adult years, keeping them. The memories and your old self came and went like waves of the ocean your not-blood-related father loved so much.

It didn't take long to realise you were not your father's daughter and that your mother's uncle, who mostly stayed at Driftmark but spent a lot of time with you whenever he could, was the one who fathered you.

When you could surface from the waters of oblivion, you were even prouder than otherwise. As a child, in both lifetimes, you idolized Daemon.

You were still a small child when your memories surfaced for a while, and you started to make plans to somehow avoid the Dance and make your new parents king and queen. In the gardens, you discovered a poisonous flower and decided to eliminate one major key for the war to come. Killing off all your villains was tempting, however, there were several problems with that idea.

You knew that would be too suspicious, even f no one would suspect a child. But for one cleverly timed murder, the innocent look of your current form would be a perfect disguise.

It was also the time your realised Rhaenyra having your Strong brothers was putting everything at risk and you had no good solution for that mess either.

The plan was to destroy the Greens but as you grow the memories of your past life become more like dreams than your reality and slowly, and ironically when they finally seem to settle for good, they don't feel like yours anymore. Of course, it's useful to know all that but you have a different life and you've become a different person too, loving people in this life and fearing losing them.

And that's the problem with the plan. You can't lose them. You can't lose him. Aemond, the only person in your childhood who understood you, besides your father of course. And even after the loss of his eye, and becoming distant, your uncle remained your best friend, who you couldn't give up on, hurt or even betray.

His sister was certainly not to blame for anything and you were fond of her too. After getting to know the Green Queen, you couldn't even blame her at times.

So, you put yourself in an even more difficult position, abandoning the plan and trying to make peace between these idiots of yours.

[brucewaynehater101]

Love the blog! I have been thinking about what would be interesting ways for Jason to slowly adopt a 'no killing' philosophy. I want it to do nothing with Bruce Wayne or the Batfam (the self realisation is so so so much better,, plus I don't want it to be like... him forsaking his philosophy for... just family stuff, it has to be more) and I've been loving reading ur blog for the past few days so I was wondering if u have any thoughts on it.

I really liked Beast World's approach on it 😭😭, smth like that!! I also like the approach of how killing is actually vvv hard on Jason, and how he maybe uses it as sh sometimes. Interesting stuff methinks !!!!

Hi 👋 Thank you ^^ Very interesting premise!

Tw: Death, purposefully giving someone permanent disability, torture (?), let me know if I need to add more

I do think this depends on Jason's characterizing, but the main problem with Jason switching over to not killing is his main ideology with it:

The prison system is not adequately preventing hardcore repeat offenders from committing heinous crimes

It feels... Disingenuous if Jason just stops killing without this major flaw being fixed. Yes, maybe you could go, "It is not your job to harm yourself like that for everyone else," but he is a Bat. Giving their entire being to the cause is what they do.

In order for Jason to stop killing, he would need proof that other methods are working. Here's a few suggestions:

Blackgate/Arkham reform [and no one escapes for over a year]

Inhumane procedures/failsafes against high-risk criminals (such as bomb in the head, loss of limb, impairment, heavy medication use, brainwashing, etc.) [Wouldn't be killing, though]

Legal system fixing [would take years to implement, though]

Dangerous criminals shipped off to the Phantom Zone or some other virtually inescapable place

Some of these methods are impossible without the batfam, though :/

There is one ideology I can see Jason adapting in the meantime, however.

If they die, they stop suffering.

As long as someone puts the little notion into his brain, it will get the ball rolling. He would start to morph from killing shots to permanent injuries. Not only would this affect their quality of life, but their medical bills will become expensive. It's also a permanent reminder of what they've done (I'm not arguing for this method. This is a reflection of what might change his mind to refrain from killing).

As he slows or stops killing, he may find this to be preferable (lessens the blood staining his hands).

I also think the Outlaws could help him with these realizations. They may kill as well, but that would allow Jason to have open and honest communication about the costs.

Jason could also use his tactical prowess for designing personal hells for every person he deems worthy of it (like the real disgusting jerks out there).

In the end, he would refrain from killing unless he deems it necessary for his, his teammates, or civilians' safety.

As far as using killing being a form of SH, I can agree with that idea depending on the circumstances/how it's interpreted.

We could see how killing takes a literal tax on his soul, but I'd prefer to analyze how killing harms his relationships/support system (not talking about his friends. We stan them and their unwavering support).

The Bats, his family, are actively against killing. This is not an argument of whether they should or not. This is a statement about their boundaries. Jason knows that the Bats are against killing and that maintaining a relationship with them while killing would be extremely arduous, or, in some iterations, impossible.

We could argue whether or not Jason should even be part of the Batfam (for his own sake) or how he may have hoped they'd love him in spite of that. We could debate on how much Jason's independent actions should affect the Bats considering their vigilante status vs their family status.

Those are all separate but vital arguments.

Bottom line, Jason knew/knows that killing is a HUGE point of contention. How the others react (and, in some cases, they react horribly) is besides the point.

So, if Jason is trying to play nice with his family by not murdering anyone, he could easily jeopardize himself/his relationships by killing again (this is not a discussion about how the Bats react/what Jason deserves). In one action, he would destroy everything.

I've seen a lot of fics where Jason renegades his agreement due to one of his family members being hurt. He ends up killing again due to the severity of the perpetrator's actions against his loved one(s). This is fabulous angst.

However, I haven't really seen one analyzing Jason killing again because of his low self-esteem. After months of not killing, he relapses in an effort to push everyone away from him with the eventual goal of impersonating a dumpster fire.

In this scenario, Jason kills again to scream, "Look! Can't you see? I am the monster I think I am. I don't deserve love/kindness. I don't deserve you."

Thus, him killing in these circumstances is actively harming himself and fucking up his life. A good batfam would communicate and help him through this. A bad batfam would allow Jason to distance himself or, worse, provide the punishment he feels he deserves (i.e. being banished from Gotham, being locked up, etc).

But, overall, I agree. Jason shouldn't change his methods just for his family. It's an important piece of his identity as a vigilante. He, as a murder victim, believes that death is justice for those wronged. While not all victims would agree to this, it is how Jason feels. He no doubt would be relieved and less fearful if the Joker was dead.