#simply had to live in denial here and pretend the Power Couple will be part of the squad for the Euros

[hubba1892]

DFB means Deutsche Fussball Barbies

[antebunny]

April 30: rebirth

(Also called Bargaining–idea is taken from an old Loki fic with the same time travel premise).

When Jiang Yanli dies, Wei Wuxian goes into denial and just runs from Nightless City. He goes back to the Burial Mounds and feverishly works on a time travel array. Within the month he completes it and prepares to travel back in time, but there’s a catch. He first activates the array and then spends the next several hours going through the ritual, while outside the Siege of the Burial Mounds begins. The Wens know what Wei Wuxian is up to so they understand why he’s not bothering to protect them. He completes the ritual just as Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan burst into the cave. They’re both there, at the front, in order to protect Wei Wuxian, but by the time they arrive it’s too late: the array is fading and Wei Wuxian is already dead. He barely sees them in the entrance when he dies, which leads him to (logical) conclusion that they’re there to kill him.

Here’s the catch: Wei Wuxian gets to go back, rewrite time, and change things. He decides to go back to the day before he got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses. But when time finally arrives at the time he activates the array, everyone gets their memories back. Although a lot of people will remember dying, it’s preferable to actually dying. Then Wei Wuxian has to conduct the ritual again, to ensure that this is the future that stays, and seal the deal with his own life. Basically, in order to change the future Wei Wuxian has to die. And obviously because he's Wei Wuxian, he decides that that’s okay so long as everyone gets to live.

So Wei Wuxian comes back to life with a golden core and cries for a solid minute, scaring tf out of Jiang Cheng, before he gets a grip. Then he proceeds to yell at Jin Zixuan, not get kicked out, and live life like everything’s normal. He enjoys the next six months of peace, and then he gets to work. Once the year is over, he goes on a very long night hunting trip, kills the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and sets up the cave for use. A year later and they’re at the archery competition, where Wei Wuxian still places first, meets Wen Ning again, and doesn’t pull off Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon.

Then Wen Ruohan is ~mysteriously~ assassinated and the Wens declare war on all the sects in revenge. When the Wens come for Lotus Pier, there’s no personal vendetta, and Wei Wuxian hides in the shadows and drowns all of them. Then he pretends that he got knocked out and was unconscious somewhere hidden from the main battle where Jiang Cheng finds him. They win the war, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are still alive and bickering with each other, the Jiang sect is still strong, etc. etc. Wei Wuxian personally hunts down Wen Zhuliu early in the war, before he can cause any damage. Then he also kills Jin Guangshan, blames it on the Wens (does it make sense? No. does anyone care? No) and Jin Zixuan commits fully to the war. Jin Zixuan learns to appreciate Jiang Yanli during the war, and since they’re already engaged they get married soon afterwards. Jin Guangyao gets taken in as Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, and since Jin Zixuan is a decent person who doesn’t want him to commit crimes but also needs Help, it goes a lot better. Meanwhile Wei Wuxian finds the DafanWen and they move to the Xuanwu cave, which Wei Wuxian has prepared. Also the carcass of the tortoise should scare anyone away.

Wei Wuxian sticks around to see his sister get married, takes Lan Zhan on a tour of Lotus Pier, at the end of which Lan Zhan proposes. Wei Wuxian is confused but figures that Lan Wangji must like this version of him that hasn’t used resentful energy as far as Lan Wangji knows or recused the Wens as far as he knows, or done any of the things that Other Lan Zhan hated him for. The Wens ask him to adopt A-Yuan, which he does after talking about it with Lan Zhan and after they get married. So now Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are married and they have an adopted child. That part was all the fluff and fix-it, cue the angst. The date of Wei Wuxian’s death draws near, and Wei Wuxian starts getting moody and antsy, starts drinking. Yu Ziyuan yells at him, of course, and everyone else worries over him. It is during one of these blackout drunk sessions that Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that he fully expects Lan Wangji to regret marrying him in the future. Lan Wangji swears up and down that he won’t, and Wei Wuxian kinda critiques himself and calls himself selfish, for marrying Lan Wangji and raising a kid when he knows it’s not going to last.

Basically Wei Wuxian starts getting skittish and disappears for periods of time to the Burial Mounds, where he acquires enough injuries that Lan Wangji suspects that someone is hurting him, which Wei Wuxian vehemently denies, but Lan Wangji is still Onto him. He goes to Jiang Yanli, who says that Wei Wuxian has been acting differently ever since he came back from the Cloud Recesses, seemed to know things that were going to happen before they did, disappears at odd times and incidents that occur when Wei Wuxian is missing, and they get Jiang Cheng, who recalls that one time Wei Wuxian woke up in the middle of the night and just bawled, and after that didn’t lose his temper on Jin Zixuan, pulled back on his most crazy antics.

Still, none of them suspect the exact day, so on that day, Wei Wuxian gets up, tells Lan Wangji he’s going to train the Jiang juniors, and then just…disappears. Night comes and Lan Wangji is already worried, according to the juniors he never showed. Yu Ziyuan accuses him of slacking, but then Lan Wangji barges in crying, holding a note. In it, Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him about the time travel, but says that Wei Wuxian is going forever, and Lan Wangji will understand why tomorrow. He understands that it’s too much to wish for that Lan Wangji won’t hate him, after how selfish he’s been and what a terrible person he’s been, marrying Lan Wangji and pretending it can last, but he hopes Lan Wangji can still look back and remember him fondly in the future. He apologizes again and tells Lan Wangji again that he didn’t mean to tarnish Lan Wangji’s reputation or saddle him with a child, but A-Yuan is here now and he knows Lan Wangji loves A-Yuan. He leaves a similar cryptic note for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, apologizing to all of them for things they don’t understand.

Lan Zhan immediately begins searching for him all through the night, and then in the morning everyone blacks out and suddenly has memories of a different past couple of years, for most people starting with Wen Ruohan getting assassinated. People don’t immediately suspect the Yiling Patriarch, because they think he was simply never created in this timeline, and lives as Head Disciple Jiang and Lan Wangji’s husband, but Wei Wuxian’s family know better. They immediately rush to the Burial Mounds, and find it guarded by corpses. Inside the cave, Wei Wuxian begins conducting the ritual, also crying because he really had a happy life this time and he really really doesn’t want to go, but he can’t bear to revert to the original timeline, not when everyone is still alive here, so he continues. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian find out about the whole yiling patriarch thing and jiang yanli is just like…i don’t care. Jin Guangshan is dead and can’t care, Jin Guangyao doesn’t have a vendetta, Jin Zixuan does what his wife says, and Jiang Yanli is alive so Jiang Cheng has no beef, plus he sees the lengths Wei Wuxian went through to save everyone. He also understands the letter now, then he and Jiang Yanli confront Lan Wangji like…do you no longer love him? Lan Wangji of course reacts poorly to this accusation and denies it. They leave A-Yuan behind and go to the Mounds with the intention of convincing Wei Wuxian that he doesn’t have to run away and they want him back.

They arrive in the cave just as Wei Wuxian is finishing with the ritual. But of course, parallels, Wei Wuxian looks up to see them standing in the entrance of the cave and thinks that they’re there to kill him, but also can see how distressed Lan Wangji looks and attempts to reassure him that he doesn’t have to kill Wei Wuxian! You know, his husband in this timeline! Because Wei Wuxian will do it himself! Wei Wuxian makes them fight some corpses while he rushes to finish the ritual, because they seem keen on stopping him (“i know you disapprove of demonic cultivation but this is the only way to save everyone”). Lan Wangji tackles him away from his ceremonial knife, and Wei Wuxian fights back (still has golden core!) they both fight desperately (“i have to do it myself Lan Zhan, otherwise I would let you do it”) over the knife. Jiang Cheng insists that there must be another solution, bc he doesn’t want Jiang Yanli to die. Then Wen Qing and Wen Ning walk into the cave, and Wen Qing like the genius she is, proposes the Alternate Solution. (What is it? Idk. just a magic solution in which Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to die). Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of fighting Lan Wangji (“i don’t have to die?” he asks while Lan Wangji is busy shattering the knife and then he and Jiang Cheng pin him down so he can stop trying to kill himself in front of them. “Nope,” says Wen Qing, the only person with brains here). So Wei Wuxian sits on the floor of the cave, tied with deity-binding thread (Wei Wuxian: let me go Lan Wangji: not until you promise to go with wen qing’s version of the ritual Jiang Cheng: unless…do you want to leave? Wei Wuxian: no!) (What’s the solution? Maybe all of them sacrifice something important to them, maybe they just…all use their power to BS their way through a solution? Again, I don’t know).

So Lan Wangji unties Wei Wuxian and they hug and kiss and they all head back to Lotus Pier, where they eat a celebratory dinner, and reunite with A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian celebrates the fact that he can live this happy life and not owe the world anything/need to go through the ritual.

The End!

[the-velveteen-victorian]

Hi Elle! I used to follow you on your old mega-popular tumblr. I really love your new one. :) I know that you've lived in a "super spiritual" community for several years now (not sure if you want me to publicly say the place). What is the community like? Is it more bad than good? What are some strengths and weaknesses of the place/people? Thank you! I've heard mixed things and really respect your insights.

Haha I knew I would get this question one day! If I could title my response, it would be, "Why I've Chosen to Keep My Distance from the New Age Community in the American Southwest." I info-dump and write novels, so get ready! =)

I think there is something to be said for defining things neutrally for yourself overall. Fortunately, I've been able to easily do that in this instance due to: 1. Being introverted and not "needing" a big community experience and 2. Having wonderful friends all over the globe that I am able to interact with all throughout my year. With that being said, if I am being 100% honest and real with you, I truly believe that the new age community where I am is more toxic than good. Here is why. I will have a positive note at the end.

A quick preface: I am not calling out any particular individual(s) and will not be naming names.... quite frankly, there are just too many and I'm not here to humiliate people. Secondly, these traits can take place in ANY community, spiritual or otherwise. But these are things that I feel a spiritual community should be more self-aware of... and sadly right now, they are not.

********ATTENTION: There is a big content and trigger warning here: There will be mentions of sui****, sexual *******, and gaslighting/narcissism, terfs, eating disorders, and other things that could be very upsetting. Proceed with caution and stop reading if you find yourself getting stressed, triggered, or deeply upset.*********

1. Malignant narcissism and community insulation from constructive criticism. I have never seen such a ubiquitous display of malignant narcissism in all my life in a collective, save for some conservative Christian environments in my growing up years. Go onto almost any youtube channel for the Sedona community and you will see very few negative comments… why? (And I have watched this for a long time) Almost ANY criticism of anyone’s channel or blog is instantly removed. There was a time when people who simply noted that some of these small “influencers” were saying toxic things were sent cease and desist letters. The community is very tight knit and displays many marks of a cult. One of these indicators is that they all protect each other and hype each other up on their channels and blogs, while labeling ANY criticism (healthy or not) as someone who is being “triggered.” The younger part of the community cares about looking perfect and having everyone worship them, but has very little spiritual substance. It’s always about who did the alien thing “before it was cool” or “who can do a backflip off of a steep cliff without breaking their neck because their synchronicity is on point.” One youtuber said once that she only wanted to hang out with “pretty” people because they were purer expressions of the divine. The older generation expresses narcissism by assuming they know more than everyone else. Good luck having a conversation on controversial topics with any of them. They are right, you are wrong. If you argue, you are “triggered” and “seeking for truth.” If you don't believe that there are reptilians on the moon with a secret base, you've drunk the kool-aid. Not a good environment to foster open sharing and knowledge. The men have a particular problem with this when it comes to topics of sex and intimacy. If you are a woman and don’t want to “surrender” to your partner (in a lot of vague and unclear ways), you are out of alignment with the divine feminine. Most of the men believe that they should be allowed to "hunt" (look for sexual partners/spiritual twin flames) and that women should do everything in their power to be softly feminine so that they can sync up and recognize each other's souls.

2. A full denial of science and medicine. Look, I get it. We all want to solve our own medical dilemmas and use herbs to cure all ills. I try to solve any (non life threatening) health issues I have the “natural” way first too… often, I have great success! The problem comes when the community rejects all western medicine, most science (that doesn’t affirm their beliefs) and any medical opinion that has… actually been to a real medical school. There is a strong anti-vaccination movement coupled with the belief in using yoni eggs religiously and doing colonics every week (though science tells us this isn’t a great idea overall). I used a different type of yoni egg for awhile to see what would happen, but trust me, your pelvic health is going to be better without them. You will be judged harshly for going to a “mainstream” doctor to get antibiotics for a serious infection and will most likely be gaslit into oblivion regarding “what you did to attract” your infection etc.

I have midwifed for many years now and have extensive “mainstream” training to be able to do this legally. Once, I was working with another midwife on a mother who was having her first baby. The laboring woman had an ideal birth in mind like most people do. Long story short, I discerned while she was laboring that the baby was in intense distress and that the mother was displaying very concerning signs of a life-threatening condition. When I insisted on calling an ambulance and getting the woman to the hospital, the other midwife said that I was interfering with nature. I explained simply that if we didn’t get said woman to a hospital, the baby would most certainly die and the mother’s life would hang in the balance. Her response was that: “Some babies don’t deserve to live and I shouldn’t invite karma by interfering with nature’s course.” I called an ambulance anyway and the mother was taken for an emergency c-section. The mother was very disappointed about not being able to follow her birth plan. However, after the birth (she and baby ended up being okay thank goodness) she sat down with me personally and thanked me for making the decision I did. She said that one of the doctors explained that if I had waited another hour, both she and the baby would be dead. Apparently, this other “midwife” had also had her license revoked a year before for endangering a different laboring person and child. This sounds like a stand-alone freak incident, but I can cite 15-20 other situations just like this one where life-threatening emergencies were viewed as opportunities for good karma and growth… and that western medical intervention would invite bad karma.

Regarding science, if you point to the fact that jade yoni eggs are likely to cause an infection, most of the new age community will scoff and say that they don’t trust science (the logic being that science once explained volcanos as angry gods or something and now cannot be trusted overall). If you don't wear blue-blocking glasses anytime you look at a screen, apparently you've already succumbed to mind control. You get my point… It’s so bad that the new age community is willing to endanger people’s lives and place the blame on the victims for being out of alignment with synchronicity. This one bullet point could be talked about for hours.

3. A lack of discernment and victim blaming. Many have heard about Bentinho Massaro and his crew from that time when they swept through Sedona a couple years ago. The core of the Sedona community started blindly following him… some of them wanted to boost their online platforms by being associated with a well-known figure. Others wanted a guru… and others were just curious and got sucked in by his charisma. All one had to do was google him. He has allegations of physically beating his followers, gaslighting people, torturing animals in his childhood, and ignoring the fact that an alarming number of his followers commit suicide. With all of this knowledge at our fingertips, the popular new age “influencers” went so far as to get in polyamorous relationships with him, validate his platform, and gaslight people who, sadly, committed sui**** because of certain things he said in his teachings. It was insane. Now, many of the people who followed him try to pretend it never happened or that they had no part in it. Many of them claim to have “gifts of the spirit” and to have stellar discernment.

One of the people who got into a polyamorous relationship with this person did an Instagram post where she basically said that if someone is being r*ped they should show their attacker love and surrender to what is happening so that they could experience unconditional love and come back to the "light." I honestly couldn’t believe what I was reading at first when I saw it. The part that was heartbreaking was when I read the comments and watched people (not just women and men) berate themselves for “fighting” while something terrible happened to them in the past. A few of them were teenagers. I made it a point to personally message the ones I was able to, and thankfully, a good number did respond positively. This exact issue has occurred on youtube channels, blogs, and in-person encounters. I’m just citing ONE online instance of this horrible, misaligned belief. Keep in mind that the person who did this post abandoned her disabled child with a family she barely knew to pursue a sexual relationship with Bentinho.

4. TERFS/anti-LGBTQ/anti-feminism. This falls under the categories of relationships, sex, autonomy, and social issues, but expands into much more overall.

A chain of videos came out a couple years ago where about 5 women in the new age community each did a presentation on what was wrong with the “divine feminine” these days. They were saying that women had been erased because they were not conforming to gender roles or seeking out conscious relationships. They all referenced that “women are angry” and basically said it was wrong for women to feel this way and that angry female energy was throwing our whole environment out of balance and even contributing to global warming somehow. They empathized with toxic people/men/known violent incels and said that women needed to get over their traumas and be more available for the divine masculine to show up. They dehumanized women by saying they shouldn’t be expressing anger, glossed over sexual a******, and blocked everyone in the comments who took a stand against what they were saying. The general consensus is that feminists are just angry women who need to get over their trauma.

Many people in the new age community also believe that if you incarnate in a particular body with certain biological parts, you incarnated that way for a reason. Changing it extensively is to erase “the spiritual lessons you were supposed to learn.” Basically, they stand against trans people, nonbinary people, gender nonconforming people… etc. I can go deeper with this if you want, but that is the gist of it without writing a novel within a novel.

Most of them take an active stance against intersectional feminism and use exclusive language to shut out anyone who doesn’t conform to the binary. A few of them are more passive-aggressive about how they do this: refusing to show any support for the LGBTQUIA+ community or mention social issues at all, even when someone is pointing out that they did something hurtful or offensive.

5. Appropriating Indigenous cultures and using past lives as an excuse. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard a white new age person say that something is their “spirit animal” or seen one wear Native American/indigenous headdresses to tight-knit community events, citing that they were “Native American” in their past life and that they are entitled to use these symbols, items, and cultural lexicons because of it. (Not that this is the main point… but they tell trans people that they shouldn’t be trans or insinuate that people should conform to the gender binary because they incarnated in a body type for a reason… but make an exception for themselves culturally? Super hypocritical.)

A couple of “woke” guys from the new age community walked around for awhile saying that the Hopi had adopted them into their “tribe” and that the were given Hopi names. I spoke to a few Hopi people about what was happening and they were shell-shocked. That is not something that they do for one thing, and for another, they had never even heard of these people! Thankfully, the behavior stopped after the two men were confronted about it, but this kind of thing happens all the time in various ways. There is a new age store here with a racial slur in the title… bring it up to the owner and she’ll kick you out and launch a smear campaign. Tell one of the white new age women that just because she studies “different traditions” doesn’t mean it’s okay to do rain dances or perform indigenous rituals (Native American, Australian, and others) without permission and they’ll blacklist you. I think many of the new agers operate within this Trojan horse of “I want to accept and validate all cultures”, but do not actually care at all about indigenous voices, feelings, or opinions. Many of them talked a lot about collective trauma in our nation during Black Lives Matter, but wouldn’t actively support it in any way themselves.

6. Let’s talk about mental health. This could go under the science and medicine label, but I think it deserves its own paragraph. Boy is mental health stigmatized in the new age Sedona community…. Real mental health professionals are painted as people who just want to “drug” you and keep you controlled. People with mental health struggles are instantly blamed. “Hell is just a state of mind, you need to change your mind,” is a phrase I have heard more often than not. Ancestral healing, umbilical healing, and random reiki sessions are somehow supposed to take the place of a licensed counselor.

A huge chunk of the “spiritual” community supported a pseudo-therapist who (without any scientific basis) was preaching that any woman who wasn’t sure if she wanted to have children or not by the age of 25 was toxic and needed to be ostracized because “something is wrong there.” A bunch of people believed it and re-posted/shared the teaching.

Another instance occurred where an unlicensed “hypnotherapist” without so much as a bachelor’s degree in anything was using questionable methods to hypnotize clients. During one session a person experienced a severe PTSD flashback and panic attack. She was not brought out of the hypnotherapy session properly or cared for. She ended up having a mental breakdown and having to spend time in the hospital. The charlatan who was treating her said that the client was willfully unresponsive to treatment and refused to confront her demons…

Anyone who is on anxiety medication, anti-depressants or anything else to support their well-being and mental health will be judged aggressively and most likely verbally confronted at some point if they are open about being on medication. The charlatans will throw essential oils into your space saying that they can cure anything. Others will try to get someone to talk to a new age leader in the “inner circle” and attempt to persuade the client that western therapists/psychologists just want to drug people and ignore the spiritual cause of unrest. They’ll cite earthing, crystals, vaginal wands, special teas, dietary habits, and color therapy as causes and answers to everything…. All while regarding victims of sui**** as unfortunate souls and lost causes etc.

7. A summary. I need to sum up other issues here quite quickly or I’ll be typing all day. XD Many of the women here are terrified of gaining weight or looking older. They hide behind the thinning veil of “health and veganism” to justify their worrisome habits to feel sexually appealing to supposedly “woke” men. Disordered eating and terror of eating one granule of processed sugar permeates the consciousness. You can be judged for anything from buying pokemon cards to eating legumes…. of all things. Most of the men are sexual predators who prey on younger women, rely on narcissism as a personality type, and don’t let anyone get a word in edgewise when their opinions are challenged. Many of the women validate these behaviors and blame themselves when they get hurt citing “spiritual growth” as a silver lining to cure all traumas. I would say that 95%+ of the people in the community present a perfect picture of themselves online while having crumbling relationships and failing inner lives. You might see a post or video about “conscious uncoupling” of a spiritual "power couple" and then find out later that someone was in a relationship with a narcissistic predator or was experiencing physical abuse. Sadly, many of the victims gaslight themselves in the uncoupling announcement. Many people here are predators in other ways… they might launch a health business that uses essential oils to replace therapy. There are con artists all over the place who can range from simply overpricing their wares in alarming ways to trying to entrap people in “business contracts” that devastate their lives. I have had personal UFO experiences here and do personally think that extraterrestrial life exists, but I would NEVER try to manufacture a fake experience… One of the UFO tour guides was having people hide out in the desert and flash lights into the sky while people on the tour wore special glasses. Then she was charging an arm and a leg to channel “spiritual messages” from the e.t.s for her clients and saying that if they didn’t receive the message, something bad would happen to them. This is the fluffiest and lightest post I could possibly do to communicate how bad it is in the “spiritual community” here. This is only the tip of the iceberg.

The good news? Sedona is so much more than a toxic new age community. It is GORGEOUS and it does have many good, healthy/normal people here. =) I have had such a beautiful experience in this place and can’t say enough good things about it. I have easy access to healthy foods, endless nature to explore and bask in, and a growing community of people who call the new age community out on its toxicity. I read what I want, play Animal Crossing without blue-blocker glasses, regularly enjoy going to listen to goth music at my preferred venue (I’ve been demonized for this lol), and eat what makes me feel good. My partner and I have had a beautiful and successful relationship for nearly a decade now and create amazing memories every day. We have good friends all around the world… and I have a solid, BIG group of academic colleagues/friends locally who DO ethically cite their sources and contribute positively to science and higher learning. If you’re into paleontology like me, you are in fossil heaven! =D If you love astronomy or astrophysics, we’re in a dark sky city! There are so many cool things to do from playing in LOTR-worthy waterfalls, to sampling delicious vegan creations, to playing DnD on red rocks with your friends while a *real* UFO passes by overhead. Get yourself a smoothie and organic wrap from one of our incredible food trucks and drive out into the desert while listening to Nightvale with your love or your friends. =)

If you ever want a list of must-do’s while visiting, let me know. I’ve got your back! The point is that I just harped on the negative above, but the good news is that you can completely avoid all of the junk. Keep it or scrap it when it comes to the Sedona new age community? I say scrap it. But you can still pursue your spiritual interests in healthy ways here while enjoying all the yummy creature comforts that the Verde Valley has to offer. I hope this helps and if just one person comes here and has a safe experience because of my thoughts, then every moment I’ve spent writing this was worth it. =) <3

[little-ideas]

Joining of Spring and Autumn

Y’all I’ve still got thoughts but I need to stop here for now also if there are names for Itaru and Banri’s sisters let me know it’d make things less awkward writing

Based entirely from this, this, this, this, and this. I LOVE YOU @flavovitta BUT GOSH DARN IT I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO FORGET ABOUT THEM SINCE I FIRST READ ABOUT THIS SHIP

BANRI’S OLDER SISTER LIKE SAEKO NEE-SAN (Haikyuu!!)

ITARU’S OLDER SISTER AS MATURE BEAUTY

Both headstrong + go after what they want

Banri’s sister does Takagari (see also https://jref.com/articles/takagari-japanese-falconry.217/ & https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falconry)

Itaru’s sister works at a cosmetics company (given she told him to go for a company that value’s his looks according to https://a-three.fandom.com/wiki/Chigasaki_Itaru)

Visit theater for performance

Wishing to congratulate their brothers (for as much as the brothers complain they get bossed around by their siblings some of that’s just hyped up as a sibling thing) and treat them to dinner

Banri’s sister sees Itaru’s sister and approaches her

The two start talking and hit it off, the 4 end up going to dinner together

Forget to ask for the others’ number so Banri wakes up to a drunk text “NEED THE NUMBER OF YOUR FRIEND’S HOT SISTER”

He’s mortified and wishes he hadn’t seen it but it’s too late. He doesn’t ask Itaru. Pretends he doesn’t see the text

After a couple days he gets another text “Never mind you ass. Got a date ❤” with a selfie of the two sisters together at bar or store or something

He’s not entirely sure what happened and he’s not asking

SO the gals continue to talk and occassionally go out to places together

Banri’s sister in with a bunch of different circles and always seems to know of events the two could go to if they want, so they start going to more and more places with each other

Then Banri’s sister mentions she has a demonstration coming up and Itaru’s sister is intrigued. Turns out the Takagari event is during a weekend she might be busy with work, so she can’t commit and go with Banri’s sister (I need names for the two = . =)

BUT! Turns out the work thing gets postponed, so her weekend’s free! Goes to the event and is wowed. Banri’s sister is so confident and in her element and that’s when Itaru’s sister just knows

Look Itaru’s sister may be more reserved compared to Banri’s sister, but she’ll still act when she wants to

The two are having an at-home spa day or something (just chilling together) when Itaru’s sister leans on her hand, looks Banri’s sister in the eye, and asks her out

Banri’s sister is so flustered it’s adorable honestly

It’s a yes! (❤´艸｀❤)

They don’t bother telling Itaru or Banri

Their brothers find out when the sisters are waiting for them after a performance again. Banri’s sister is leaning against Itaru’s sister, one arm around her shoulder, pointing to something on the other’s phone. This part is normal.

So is the linking of their arms as they walk

Itaru’s starting to suspect, but Banri’s like “Nah, my sis is always like that”

Itaru at dinner: Even with the matching rings?

Banri: Haven’t they always had the rings? Besides, rings are the in thing right now.

Itaru a little while later: Banri, they’ve held hands and have cute nicknames for each other

Banri: Pretty sure my sister’s done that with a lot of her female friends.

Itaru: My sister hasn’t

Banri: Well….*vague hand waving* Eh? He’s not in denial, he’s just oblivious to his sister’s life ok

Itaru drops the sisters off at the station and just straight-up asks them if they’re dating

Banri’s sister is surprised, “You mean we didn’t tell you?” as Itaru’s sister grins, locks their fingers together, and kisses her girlfriend on the cheek, “Yes.”

Itaru’s figured it out by now, so he has no reaction besides congratulations, but Banri is shell-shocked (still manages to wish them well, he’s just on auto-pilot). The only things said on their way back to the dorms are, “I told you so.” “SHUT UP!”

Banri processes for a while he was finally bad at something lol

Probably has a crisis about it tbh. Pulls Itaru aside after practice and just panics about being bossed around by both of the sisters now. He doesn’t care that the two are women or anything like that

No, his concern is that the two women are a freaking power couple and as younger brothers, he and Itaru are in for a bunch of trouble. Can’t escape. The sisters know the brothers live together, if they need something they can message both of them.

Heck, the sisters have even charmed Izumi, probably have her number on speed-dial and can get her on board if they need

The younger brother duo is doomed Banri quit being such a drama king omg

Itaru has to be the voice of reason good grief

ANYWAY Dates continue

Banri’s sister introduces Itaru’s sister to her hawk

The latter woman is really nervous

The bird is cool but it’s a bird of prey and its talons and beak are sharp

She’s also never really been up-close to birds before

Calls Itaru or Izumi and asks if she could hang out with Kamekichi to become more familiar with birds

Slowly becomes more comfortable with Kamekichi and the hawk

Eventually is ok with simply holding the hawk on her arm

So they try calling him it over

The day the hawk comes over on the first call she’s ecstatic and it’s adorable

AND YEAH THEY’RE A FREAKING POWER COUPLE

DON’T TAKE SHIT FROM ANYONE

AREN’T AFRAID TO DECLARE THEIR LOVE FOR ONE ANOTHER IN PUBLIC

They have a wedding photoshoot

Itaru’s sister does their makeup

Commission Yuki to make their wedding outfits

Ain’t traditional but WHO THE FUCK CARES? NOT THEM

Banri’s fighting past and thug attitude are serve him so well as their bodyguard lol

He stations Autumn Troupe around the venue so if anyone tries to say anything negative they are shut down so fast

Once the sisters and Banri were going shopping together Banri’s wardrobe needed an update and someone started to say something but before they could finish their sentence they went flying

Itaru’s sister just blinks like what just happened?

But Banri and his sister lead her away

Closer inspection upon the offending party reveals a shoe imprint from Banri’s sister

BUT ITARU’S SISTER CAN HOLD HER OWN TOO

She’s made it to the upper ranks of her company

She’s efficient, polite, but doesn’t take anybody’s shit

I just want her to be out with the MANKAI group one day and something happens and Itaru pales and tries to cover Sakuya and Muku’s ears

He makes it, barely

RIP to the offending party Itaru’s sister tears them apart

She’s calm, but her words are scathing

Yuki’s impressed

Homare adds some phrases to his vocabulary

Tsuzuru’s got inspiration for a new villain

If Banri’s sister is also there she swoons lol

[diaboloframboise]

Good Omens fanfiction: An Angel’s apology

This takes place after the bandstand argument when Aziraphale tells Crowley that they are not friends and that it's over. This moment crushed my heart and I wanted to see Aziraphale think and apologize about it. The chapter stands alone as there is a resolution at the end but a follow up is in progress. 

Thank you so much to my great beta reader @thischarmingmutant :-)

 End of the scene at the bandstand, dialogues from the TV show:

A: “Friends? We are not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.” C: “You do.” A: “Even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn’t tell you. We are on opposites sides.” C: “We are on our side.” A: “This is not our side, Crowley, not anymore. It’s over.” C: “Right. Well, then. Have a nice doomsday.”

*********************************

As such a lover of books, Aziraphale knew better than anyone the power of words. He knew how they could make you feel like you were about to explode with joy or cry in despair. He knew how they could make you so angry that you wished to be able to punch someone or how they could make you question everything you thought you knew. Words were powerful; he had always known as such.

However, he had never experienced until today how deep they could cut when used too rashly. How much damage they could make in a matter of seconds. The power that could seep from them when you use them to push someone away because you’re scared.  Words had always given Aziraphale many emotions: joy, anger, surprise, sadness, even disgust, but they had never failed or disappointed him. Today, for the first time in his very long existence, Aziraphale felt like his beloved words had betrayed him.

They were just two little words though. Not even a full sentence, just seven ridiculous letters. “It’s over.” How could seven letters cut so deep? Because they had. There was no doubt about it. The way Crowley had looked when Aziraphale had said those seven tiny letters was forever engraved into his brain with no possibility to erase it. For as long as he would live, he would never forget the hurt, the sadness that Crowley’s face had shown at those simple words.  He had looked so utterly wrecked that Aziraphale had to look away for a moment, unable to cope with the fact that he was the one responsible for putting that broken look on him.

Time went by after that dreadful day without any signs of Crowley, and for the first time in his very long life, Aziraphale physically felt it stretch. Time had never been a factor for him before. As an immortal being it wasn’t something he needed to worry about. Actually, it wasn’t something that even meant anything to him. He and Crowley had spent decades apart, and it had never been an issue because they knew they got all the time in the world to bump into each other again for one reason or another. Even when being apart for a long time, they always had that absolute certainty that they were a constant in each other life and that they would eventually be reunited.

This time was different. This fight was different. It wasn’t just a spat or a divergence of opinion. It was one of them deeply wounding the other and the other having no clear idea of how to act about it. The feeling was new, immensely unpleasant, deeply unsettling and immeasurably painful.

Aziraphale had never fully noticed how much he had relied on Crowley all these past centuries, especially since they were both living in London. How he had come to lean on him, even. How Crowley had became so completely intertwined in his daily life to talk, to laugh, to drink, to eat or simply to spend time with someone he cared about.

Because he cared about Crowley; there was no denying that. Aziraphale was pretty good at turning a blind eye to things he didn’t want to see, but he couldn’t deny anymore the way he was feeling. There was no mistaking the aching he felt with each passing day without seeing Crowley. There was no other way to explain the way his heart jumped into his chest every time the bookshop’s door opened in hope it would be Crowley. And there was no other explanation for the utter distress he felt every time it wasn’t him crossing the threshold. Like with words, for the first time in his life, Aziraphale was feeling like time was betraying him. Because there was not much left of it before the end of the world, and the person he cared the most about was not a part of his life anymore.  

Well, it wouldn’t do, Aziraphale decided after spending a whole afternoon watching at his phone hoping it would ring. It wouldn’t do at all. There were some times to be conveniently unaware of your own feelings, and there were some times to confront them. 6000 years of denial and the world ending very soon sounded like a good time to start taking action.

*******************************

To say that Crowley seemed happy to see him would be a bit of a stretch of the truth. He obviously knew who it was before opening the door but his face nonetheless did something very complicated when he saw Aziraphale before settling on a very carefully controlled expression. “What do you want?” he asked a bit curtly. “I’m very sorry to stop by unannounced. I know it’s rather rude, but I need to speak with you.”  Aziraphale’s voice was nowhere near as steady as he would have liked, and he cleared his throat. “Would you be so kind as to let me come in?” Crowley hesitated briefly but eventually stepped aside to let him in before leading the way to the living room. Aziraphale had been there a few times before, but he pretended to examine his surroundings with great attention to gain composure. He awkwardly asked Crowley about his plants to which Crowley rolled his eyes without answering. “Why are you here?” he asked instead. “Any news on the front of the end of the world?” Aziraphale shook his head. “No.” “Then what?” prompted Crowley a bit impatiently. Aziraphale swallowed and had to resist the urge to fidget with his fingers. He had known it wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t anticipated it would be so utterly terrifying. “I’ve never had...” he started feebly, then stopped right away. “I don’t know…” he tried again before trailing off. “I can’t think…” Aziraphale closed his mouth and sighed in frustration at his own jabber. He focused hard on his jumbling thoughts and decided to start with something simple. “I’m sorry I said we weren’t friends. It is obviously not true, and I apologize,” he began hesitantly. It didn’t stir any reaction from Crowley so Aziraphale bravely continued. “Surely by now you know how I feel about you,” he said tentatively. That prompted a bitter laugh. “How would I? The only thing you have ever said about it was that we’re not friends. “ Aziraphale flinched at the clipped tone as much as at the jab, but he took on the blame without a word. “Of course we are friends,” he said softly. “You are not just my friend, Crowley, you are my best friend. Actually you are my only friend. I was very wrong to say what I said.  I didn’t know it would hurt you so much. I didn’t mean to.” “You didn’t know? I had just asked you to run away with me! What did you think?” Crowley looked very angry now and Aziraphale couldn’t blame him. “Do you think I would have asked just anyone to run away with me?” Crowley asked sharply. “Do you think I would want anyone to run away with me? I asked you because you are my best friend in the world, and I can’t even imagine you not being in my life.” Crowley’s voice trailed off and he deflated all of a sudden, looking so open and vulnerable it made Aziraphale feel sick. Crowley turned his back to Aziraphale, obviously at war with himself to keep his emotions in check. He eventually faced him again, his face raw but his voice steady. “I need you, angel,” he whispered.

Aziraphale’s heart exploded into his chest. He had never heard such a palpable pain in Crowley’s voice. It was agonizing. He cleared his throat a few times, struggling to find the words that would convey everything he felt in that moment. It took a couple of false starts and his voice was a bit wobbly when he found it.

“I had no idea you felt that way. I’m so sorry, my dear. I never meant to hurt you.” Aziraphale’s voice broke a bit on the last words and he took a shaky breath to pull himself together. “I need you too, Crowley. I do,” Aziraphale exhaled on a soft sigh. “I want you in my life, and I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it.”

Crowley was so stiff it must have hurt every one of his bones. His jaw was squared so tightly it would probably have broken on a genuine human body. Aziraphale could see that Crowley had no idea what to do with what he was saying. He was probably attempting to keep protecting himself. Aziraphale had hurt him once and he knew that Crowley needed to be absolutely sure that Aziraphale wouldn’t do it again before giving in to his feelings.

Aziraphale came closer to Crowley, slowly, very slowly, so very careful not to startle him. He touched his sunglasses with a questioning look, and when Crowley didn’t react, he softly took them off and miracled them somewhere else. Crowley’s eyes looked haunted, their yellow shade enhanced by the deep dark circles under them.

“I need you,” Aziraphale said again. He was under the impression he could never say it enough to mend what he had wounded. “You are not just my best friend, Crowley, you are so much more.”

Aziraphale closed his fingers around Crowley’s wrist very loosely, barely touching him. Crowley went even stiffer but didn’t move, keeping his gaze straight above Aziraphale’s head.  Aziraphale made a step further, just enough to invade Crowley’s space and to be able to settle his chin on the crook of his neck.

“You are everything I need and everything I want,” he breathed against his neck.” I miss you so much. Please.”

Aziraphale wasn’t even sure what he was saying please for. This little word, murmured against Crowley’s skin had so many meanings at this instant. Please forgive me. Please tell me it’s not too late. Please talk to me. Please take me in your arms. Aziraphale hoped with all his might that it would be enough to convey all the feelings he was too overwhelmed to express differently.

Everything was completely still for a very long while, the only sound in the room the labored breathing of this two entities that didn’t even need to breathe. Finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity, Crowley turned his hand in Aziraphale’s feathered grip on his wrist and intertwined their fingers.

The broken sigh of relief Aziraphale exhaled on the crook on his neck was heart wrenching. Crowley slowly raised his other arm and wrapped it around Aziraphale’s frame, bringing him closer. Aziraphale mirrored him in a heartbeat, pushing himself against Crowley.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered. “So sorry. Please forgive me, my dear.”

Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s hand with an infinite softness and wrapped his other arm around him. Aziraphale mirrored him again, molding himself against Crowley.

“I forgive you, angel.”

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

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed. Please let me know, feedback always makes my day and fuels my motivation :-)  

[a-day-at-once]

January entries #1 to #10

#1

January 1st, it seems.

There’s something rather archaic about writing in the first page of a journal while being bathed in nothing but the light of a candle. Normally I wouldn’t mind it much, it does set a mood, but as the lone flame flickers, so does my soul, out of the impaling feeling of pure, raw, suffocating boredom.

Archaic as it might be, Benjamin Franklin’s been dead for quite some time now and the current world revolves around the connection he found between lightning and tiny electric sparks, an energy that has been temporarily taken from us.

With the storm raging outside, there’s been a general blackout in this part of town. No internet, no television, no working electronic devices, just me and the apartment I’ve been neglecting to clean for way too long. I didn’t clean anything at all, mind you, I was just moving and kicking things around to ease my access to the ceiling fan with the chair I dragged behind me and the rope that I still have around my neck.

From a higher angle, my feet on the seat of the chair, a blur through the futile tears I blinked away; that’s how I spotted you, partially hidden under layers of discarded smelly clothing, inside a plastic storage box with the last remnants of proof that I’ve actually been to college at some point in this life of mine. A shame I didn’t graduate, but also not really? Art school can set you free as much as it can castrate your spirit.

But there you were, all faux leather cover, a gift cast aside at the time, but full of stories yet untold. Unwritten, rather. Am I talking to you or are you talking to me? Am I writing with the hopes of it being read, or so that I can figure out what I’m trying to tell myself?

I only noticed the passage of the year because the neighbors from downstairs helpfully screamed the countdown with an excitement I only wished I could share. I laid my shaky hands on you with seven seconds to go and made the decision to start writing at the exact moment they yelled “zero”.

Am I just lonely, diary? Simply sad? New Year is supposed to be about new beginnings, but in the darkness of a world that moves onto 2019 without light, your pages called for an entry. For what it’s worth…

You stopped me from ending right at the beginning.

I end this entry with the desk lamp flickering awake.

- @abyssiniana

#2

Hello Day 2.

Yesterday I didn’t think we’d meet, and now it seems so ordinary.

Went back to work today. Another thing I thought I was leaving behind. I was on shift with Susan again, and it seems like the holidays put her in a better mood. She had a lot to tell me about her boyfriend.

We had pretty heavy traffic. More than we expected. Some old man got kicked out for saying some seriously racist shit. Bless my manager. And fuck the elderly, I guess?

It was bright and cold on my way in. I walked along the canal. I watched someone try and fish their hat out with a stick for like 10 minutes (they did it!)

On the way home I got caught in the rain and got soaked.

Closing thoughts? This was sort of a shitty day, but hey, I’m still here. I changed into some dry clothes, I’ve got some music on and I’m snuggled up in a blanket.

I kept the rope. It’s in my desk drawer. Is that morbid? I think it’s to avoid denial. I’m also keeping the candles. The power’s on, but the candles are nice anyway.

See you soon, day 3.

- @mykumatt

#3

Day three. I wish I could say I was happy to see you.

I was off of work today. Most people hang out with friends, run errands, see a show, something else on their days off.

I usually sit and home and stare at blank canvasses and wonder what happened to me. I used to be good. I used to be something.

Am I really anything, anymore?

I eat. I sleep. I work.

Am I anything more than an automaton? Am I worth more than the money accrued with every beep of a barcode on a register?

Today, I couldn't sit inside and wonder if I'd ever become anything. Today, I went to ask the canal.

Cold and grey, it didn't have much to offer me that I didn't already know. I sat on a low wall beside the canal, almost a block from work.

The canal had my attention for all of moments. The surface was glassy, dark. Nothing swam within, nor did anything float on the surface.

I watched people instead.

One woman needed to get to the bank before it closed, I decided. She walked with purpose, long strides taking her quickly from my sight. A young man peered into the windows of a record store with his headphones on as he swayed to the beat. He was still home from college, looking for a last-minute gift for a roommate or a friend. An elderly couple toddled into a diner, the man holding his arm out for the woman, even though they both carried a cane. They've been married fifty years, kids long moved away. They eat breakfast together every morning.

Making up the story of someone else's life made mine seem more interesting. Sometimes, I wonder what people think when they see me on the streets. Am I still a student, in their eyes? Do I live with my parents? Do I have a family of my own? What if I'm a business owner, a chef, a politician, a poet?

Do they know that I'm nothing at all? When I looked back across the canal, I saw a man in nearly my mirrored position. He wore a black leather jacket and no hat or gloves. In one hand, he held a cigarette. In the other, a small, black book, much like you, dear diary.

He is a musician, I decided. His hands were lithe and his fingers slim, perfect for the piano or the guitar. In that notebook, he carried symphonies. He carried the next greatest rock album. He carried next week's one hit wonder.

Who knows?

Maybe he isn't anything. Just like me.

- hawkwarrd

#4

Day Four. Damn.

I didn’t really realize how boring my life has become until I started to do this. What do I even say? It wasn’t a bad day? I went to work, it was Friday, so it was busier than usual, but nothing truly awful.

Oh, and Susan told me today that the new person was hired yesterday while I was off. They start tomorrow, so that’s something exciting? Hopefully, we don’t get another Sean.

My Friday night was closing, and take out food at home. No plans with friends. No notifications on my phone. A single online order for falafel, and a cold dark walk back down the canal passing the glittering lights of restaurants and bars full of laughter and friends and dates.

I would feel ashamed to reach out to anyone at this point. I was the one that pushed them away, what right did I have to see my friends again, and pretend nothing is wrong? They didn’t do anything wrong, I ignored texts, I couldn’t go out places, I never reached out. The thing that was wrong was me.

Maybe I should get a cat.

Candles and canvases and white pages don’t talk back.

Neither do cats, but maybe I could actually feel like someone useful again. It’s a new year and just because the year feels impossibly long and lonely and scary—

Fuck. Fuck I hate that. While I want to get better, am I really committed enough to 2019? To taking care of something that long? I don’t even have a real plant in my apartment.

...Maybe a senior cat.

- @kearatheshadow

#5

Day 5.

I can't believe I actually managed to write here for five days in a row. Maybe I need to take it all out in writing, or maybe I just hope you'll be found one day, long after I'm gone, and that someone better than me will find you somehow interesting. I know I don't. I'm your writer after all, right?

I worked half day today. I didn't think I'd go to work, but I guess I needed an excuse to get up early. Last night I had some thoughts, some regrets. I thought about what I tried to do, and how I could feel that rope screaming at me from the drawer. Calling me a coward. Telling me that if I can't use it, I should at least do something with myself. Anything.

So I had to get out, you know? I couldn't hear it anymore.

Before work, I went to sit by the canal again with some coffee. I kinda like it.

It wasn't that bad today. Not too many customers. Most of the workers weren't in, so I had some peace and quiet. As much as most of them are pretty okay, I hate all of those rumors and gossips that always spread around. You can't say anything without everyone knowing about it 5 minutes later (especially Susan. She's nice but she's the most talkative person I've ever met. It's exhausting sometimes). That's why I don't talk much. Though to be fair, I don't talk much in general. The new guy was in today. He looked like he was nervous and shy, and mainly kept himself close to Greg, who was shift manager today. The poor guy had to hide his shaking hands behind him when he handled customers. Must be his first job, at least in this kind of job. But after some time, Greg told me to spend some time with him.

His name is Leo. And he's the most gentle person I've ever met. We didn't talk much, but I saw it right away. He saw me scribble on a random piece of paper and he really liked it. So I gave it to him, and he put it in his wallet.

I dunno why, but after I went back home, I wasn't so tired like I always am.

I didn't touch my sketchbook since dropping out of school. It's dusty, but somehow well kept.

Maybe I'll draw something later.

- @somegoodsheith

#6

I decided today would be a mental health day. Called Sylvia and the sweet old lady took my shift from me. I knew no matter what she would and take it because she’s so giving with everyone in the store. I feel like I manipulated her into taking it but goes to show I’m an awful person. Not like we didn’t know that already. Okay shit. We’re not doing this today. I’m treating myself well today, only good thoughts for now.

I took the bus into the city. I figured it was best not to lie in bed all day. I got onto the subway and yeah I sat there for a long time. Like a really long time. I tried to sketch a couple of people with the notepad I brought with me, but my mind was wandering too much so I threw it back into my bag. I rode the entire line to the original stop I started at.

I enjoyed it though. That feeling of just being. A city goer. Maybe someone who works nine to five. Someone who just. Lives their life without their minds chained to an abyss that’s barely trying to break free. They maybe worry about things like, paying bills on time and making it to their kids recital.

Just a regular cyclical life that doesn’t revolve around whether their brains decide to work or not.

I made it to an animal shelter and then got dinner and then went home. Kinda uneventful. I’m still thinking about a cat maybe. I don’t know. None of them particularly attracted me. Well I mean I did try and play with every single one of them. Just none that I felt I should take home. Because I don’t know maybe I don’t deserve it. I was surprised they had birds and turtles and fish there. Not as common as cat, dogs and rodents. But I don’t know my eyes were caught by this turquoise conure. She was very calm and interested in me and her eyes just had life as soon as walked in the room.

Birds are so beautiful and I love them so much. Just hard to keep. I would have to quit my job to even have time for a parrot. And I already spend so much time at home. I just couldn’t. I’m gonna keep looking around for cats though. I have the time and space and money.

I just. Need to stay alive somehow. Maybe a cat could do that. Just gotta find the one y’know

I think I might look at volunteering at the shelter some day. I don’t think that parrot is going anywhere anytime soon and I’d love to play with her and that way it would be easier for me to find a cat. Who knows.

- @technicolorfire

#7

Day 7 I’m feeling a bit better today. That mental health day truly helped out a lot! I’m thinking about treating Sylvia for lunch or something. I got to thank her somehow, but I’m still not 100% sure what to do. If I don’t do something, I’m going to feel the guilt anytime I look at her. Oh boy. At work today, Leo came up to me, nervously twiddling his thumbs. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and pushed it into my hands before walking away. I opened it up and it was a drawing of me. Everything, from the hair to my eyes, was perfect. On the bottom it read, “You know, I used to draw back during my high school days. Your drawing really motivated me to try up that hobby again. I hope you and me can be friends. You might even be able to teach me something.” I don’t know what to say. I know dozens of people whose drawings are better than mine, so why is Leo paying any attention to mine? Whatever, I’ll take it. I’ll probably talk to him tomorrow, if he’s willing that is. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I did get a cat. A pure black female American Shorthair. I named her Ember, due to her fiery eyes. She’s a quiet one, mostly keeping to herself. Right now, she’s laying down on my bed, softly purring. I need to go to the pet store and buy her something before she rips the entire house apart. At least Ember lightens up the atmosphere. On my way out of the shelter, I grabbed a volunteer forum from one of the employees. In fact, it’s sitting next to Ember right now. At least now I can hope to make someone’s day better. New year, new me after all.

Well, until we meet again, diary.

-Tingle

#8

Do cats wear collars?

I ended up going to the mall before my shift to buy pet supplies and the thought entered my mind when I saw the aisle of shiny, multi-coloured pet collars in the store. The images of cats on the labels, ecstatic to receive the gift of Collar from Human, repeated across an entire wall of ApexCorp® Anti-Tick and Flea Cat Collars™ Dermatologist Approved.

Do cats have dermatologists.

I have never seen a cat wear a collar in my life. Not even on TV. Or maybe I have seen one before, on a cat food commercial? Who pays attention to those things anyway?

Do cats wear collars? The question, it haunts me.

I did not buy Ember a collar.

I stuffed the pet supplies onto my car's backseat (a secondhand Toyota Corolla my parents bought me for my 18th birthday - old but still trusty) — a litter box, two food bowls, a large pack of cat food to last at least a month or so, and a squeaky mouse toy. Not a collar in sight.

I returned to the mall, deciding to grab a bite to eat before I went to work in a few hours.  My shift today was supposed to be from 8 AM to 4 PM, but Sylvia (1-9 PM) asked us to switch since she had some errands later in the evening. Sure, fair enough. She did take my shift the other day, might as well return the favour. Not like I have much better to do in the evening.

I already spent most of my spare money on Ember's things, but a sandwich and maybe a milk tea won't hurt my wallet too bad. And it'll probably taste better than all the cup noodles and rice-plus-canned-something that had comprised my diet for the past several months. I deserve to treat myself every once in a while.

Right?

I strolled across the mall; when was the last time I actually went here? I didn't recognize most of the stalls anymore, and had forgotten where I used to eat all the time.

No point in thinking too deeply about it, I suppose. Thinking doesn't do me much good. I stopped by a café that only had three other customers and ordered a "House's Special" panini and, at the cashier's suggestion, an "Okinawa milk tea with tapioca, rock salt and cheese."

I have no idea what either of these are.

From across the café where I sat was International Bookstore. Oh, International Bookstore, with your overpriced erasers and purple pens that never seem to be in stock. The glass display presented a vast array of hardcover novels, alcohol markers and oil pastels, a medium I was never good at.

I stared at the art supplies, sipping my tea plaintively. I haven't made a serious artwork ever since I left school, my once diverse portfolio reduced to crude doodles at the back of receipts.

My impressive receipt collection was set to grow yet again as I scribbled behind the café bill with the half-empty pen I write grocery lists with.

I started with some abstract scribbles, trying to get a feel for the pen. The once black ink was nothing more than a faded gray now. I sketched out my lunch absent-mindedly, taking more time looking at the bread's dotted texture than my own work (Ah, food, the art student's favourite subject).

I continued eating (GOD this is good milk tea, thanks cashier person), stopping every few bites to draw again, the progression of my food as it was being consumed laid out on the paper until all that was left to draw were bread crumbs and an empty cup.

This could be symbolic for something, but I'm not really sure.

- cordaello

#9

I can’t believe it took me a full day to understand Leo’s joke when I asked him if he was planning to grow a beard. “Maybe. Who knows? I used to not like facial hair but it grew on me.” I just… thought he didn’t have a razor.

By the way, I forgot to write about my conversation with Leo yesterday (the first thing I thought of doing was sticking that receipt doodle on my diary and my mind threw any other detail that happened that day out of the window).

I’ll just quickly skim over what happened yesterday. He’s a quiet, shy guy who avoids talking to people if it’s unnecessary. He’d rather watch and observe. Didn’t get to chat with him until our break time since I didn’t really want to disturb him while we were working. Sheepishly, I started small talk between the two of us which somehow sidetracked into a long discussion about BBC’s hit detective rom-com show, Sureluck played by the loveable Bandersnatch Cucumber. There was something about the uncovering mysteries that fascinated both of us. Maybe it was the idea that there’s something more to the things that happen around us, a hidden explanation. That or it was just wishful thinking; we wanted to belong to a scheme bigger than all of us, to be worth more than what we think we are.

Or maybe it’s Bandersnatch’s sexy cheekbones. Maybe…

Honestly, Leo’s such a precious kid. He’s still pretty young, just turned 18 and recently moved from Michigan to this place where nothing extraordinary happens (unless you count the disc of lights that disappear after a few seconds above Dale University). He rents a small apartment a few blocks from the store.

I thought it’d be nice to show him around; after all, he’s new here. So after today’s shift I asked if he wanted to go to Ravensons Mall and grab something to eat, maybe sit on one of the benches at the nearby park for cats.

Do cats have parks. “Um, sure, I’d love to go,” he answered with a small smile. “It’s not like there are people waiting for me to get home.”

Beneath that smile I could hear a tinge of melancholy in his voice and I felt a little bad for him. This kid was me a couple of years ago. This kid is me now, scared and reluctant in this jungle of people bustling around minding their own businesses, and I alone.

Alone.

Maybe Leo didn’t have to feel the same way. Maybe I could be a friend to him. Maybe…

After the shift we got into my car and drove to Ravensons. WcDonalds was packed with people and Leo seemed agitated at the overwhelming business of the fast food chain so I ordered us each a burger and a cup of soda to go, and left the busy place.

Leo seemed to calm down when we got to the park. We watched as people walk by. We watched families that had small picnics on the grass under the shade of the big trees — the only trees you’d see in this place.

There were no signs of cats whatsoever.

Leo told me about Michigan and how he and his friends would have long road trips in and out of the state in his friend Brad’s pickup truck. There was something peaceful about driving across miles and miles of land, especially at night, and being alone in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe we should go out on a road trip someday. -realcakkuu

#10

Ember woke me up a little before my alarm went off. I suspect I will eventually transcend the need of setting up the alarm at all; for a cat without one of her front paws, she sure pounces hella hard on my stomach at six twenty in the morning exactly. I can’t decide if I prefer waking up to her demand of food or Gary Moore’s guitar solo.

The cat decided for me.

I fed her. She likes the extravagant salmon food I can barely afford, because of course she does; for an animal who was rescued from the streets, she sure was picky with her Purina Fancy Feast. After the bowl was empty she staggered towards me to rub herself on my leg in what I can guess is appreciation.

I very damn well hope it is appreciation.

Do cats have that sort of feelings towards inferior beings such as humans?

I petted her, though. Cute.

I made a good pot of coffee for myself, but then opened my fridge to realize I hadn’t bought milk in weeks. I burned my toast but ate it anyway; anything goes down my mouth with enough peanut butter. I may or may not have forgotten to pay the water bill, but I’m fairly certain I did (one day past the limit, is a fact). I think they just cut the hot water because they’re complete sadistic unforgiving assholes. I showered anyway. I masturbated. I couldn’t even tell how long it had been since I last did it but I can’t say it felt... particularly good. Mostly made me feel fourteen again, self-discovering without the concern of being caught by my brother in the upper bunk bed.

I uh. Shouldn’t have done that.

In the momentary bliss I forgot time was a constant moving variable and clocked in eleven minutes late at work. My boss hates me. The clients hate me because god forbid they have to form a line in the parking ten minutes before opening time.

Today was the day I decided I absolutely despise Thursdays.

I realize this every week. I do. But I hated today specially because Thursday is Leo’s day off. I don’t know what I was expecting, the kid deserves his days off as much as me or anyone else does. He didn’t miss out on anything too critical except the ridiculous amount of clients that seemed to be waiting for the final twenty minutes of my shift to grab every item from the nearest shelves and throw them on the absolute opposite end of the slooowwwlyyyy rooooolliiiiiinnnngggg conveyor belt, as if I have all the time in the world, and they THINK I want to argue about the promotion we had last week but don’t have this week but they WANT it this week too, but I have to explain that promotions are like every single fucking thing in life, fucking TEMPORARY, WOMAN, GET A MOVE ON AND PAY FULL PRICE FOR A BLOODY CAN OF SAUSAGES.

Ah, Thursdays are inventory day. I didn’t leave the goddamned supermarket before midnight, and I’m honestly cheating you, dear diary, because it’s the eleventh already and I only just managed to sit down and rage write today’s events.

Ah but… before going to bed, I should add something.

I found something in my locker when I went to pick up my jacket. I didn’t notice it upon arriving in the morning, nor when I went to grab some money for lunch, but this was right on the door, at the level of my eyes, a post it note with a little message. Was it put there yesterday night? Sometime during the day?

- @abyssiniana

[gloomybow1]

A mission with Yoongi

Genre: Smut

Tags: kinky sex / dominating Yoongi / orgasm denial / swearing/ sex talk

MAFIA AU

Pairing: Min Yoongi/Reader

Related fics (not necessary to read them in order to enjoy this story)

First part: Jungkook: When you catch him masturbating

Second part: Jungkook: When you grind his thigh

Third part:  Jungkook and Tae’s mischievous plan

Setting: A background story depicting the relationship of Min Yoongi and the sister of the head of a mafia organisation. Both of you are sent on a mission and forced to play out the roles of husband and wife.

Characters:

You: The sister of the boss of a mafia organisation. 

Min Yoongi: A genius hacker and a hit man. Due to some unfortunate events, your relationship with him can be best described as the mixture of love and hate. He’s a member of the same mafia organisation, which makes him your fellow co-worker. One day you’re both sent on a mission and forced to pretend to be happily married. 

“Fucking shit-head,” you spit out while adjusting your dress.

It might be a bit too tight and it rolls up every now and then, exposing even more of your flesh. “Why him, of all people?” your hands gently running through the locks of beautiful long hair and then you freeze. Flashbacks from the past, the day when you first met Min Yoongi, creep into your head all over again. It’s like an endless cycle of trying to ignore his malicious presence that threatens your sanity and ability to think straight each and every day.

 “Fucking impossible,” you hiss, fixing up the dress for the umpteenth time, this time around your boobs area. It’s maybe not as much that he is a complete jerk and bastard. He really can be sweet, for example to your sister. Yes, he certainly can. Your sister is his boss and he looks up to her, also, they seem to be pretty fond of each other and it’s all perfectly fine. You can understand it all. She is the boss of a Mafia organisation and he’s just been doing his job, doing it pretty well, if you were to admit, resulting in their friendly bond. They hit it off pretty well, though. Something that you can’t really say about you and Yoongi. Some time ago, maybe a year or so... 

“Has it been such a long time already? Gosh,” you ponder out loud.

 But yes, indeed, it must have been a year since that day when you were given orders to kill one, particularly nasty and uncontrollable, associate of your sister’s organisation. Yeah, usual stuff. Find the guy, corner him when he least expects it, and then get rid of him, in a most cautious and quiet manner. Nobody wants to deal with problematic shit, for sure not your lovely sister. The thing is, on the way you encountered some bothersome issue, something that can be exactly labelled as problematic shit. The night when you stepped into the house of the soon-to-be-dead guy, you knew you weren’t alone in this lavishly decorated villa. Somebody else was there, not a member of the target’s family, maid, hooker, whatever, it was another hit-man. A very wily and clever one, to put it lightly. You weren’t exactly sure who was his target. At some point it crossed your mind that he could’ve been after you, but no, it wasn’t the case. The two of you finally confronted each other in the living room, two bullets killing the guy immediately. You aimed for his heart, while the black-clad stranger chose to drill a hole in his head. Disgusting...

 “Crazy mother fucker,” you still cringe at the memory. 

Anyway, the moment when the guy collapsed on the ground drawing his last breaths, you and that intruder stood motionless for a couple of seconds to assess one another’s intentions. You remember that at this point your mind was completely blank. Without much thinking, you pulled the trigger, but this sneaky little bastard must have anticipated your hasty decision cause he ducked down and then jumped in your direction, landing basically on you and immediately straddling you. His grip was strong. What really puzzled you back then was the fact that he didn’t kill you, although he really could have just taken out his gun and make a hole in your head, same as he did with this unfortunate guy. It would have been easy, taking into account your shitty mistake. Yeah... He really got you there. Something he’s been continuously reminding you about on every possible occasion. You were struggling for some time, trying to wriggle out of his grasp and somehow maybe still come out completely unscathed of this crappy situation. Not much time had passed, though, and then you heard the sounds of the police sirens. Both of you realising that the party was over, and that it was high time to clear out, ASAP. He let go of you and chuckled a little. You couldn’t see his face because of the balaclava, but without a single doubt he must have been smirking like a fucking madman. He sprang to his feet and run away using one of the back doors. You followed his lead and got the hell out of that place. He was nowhere to be seen, though. You simply lost his track. The mission was a complete fiasco. Sure, the guy was dead, but due to the mess that thwarted your plans you didn’t manage to fulfil the orders completely. You didn’t bring back with you the set of jewellery that had been your sister’s object of desire. Before kicking the bucket, the targeted guy committed one single, but what a grave mistake. The mistake that ultimately cost him his life. He robbed your sister of that fancy necklace and earrings, hoping to get away with it.

 “What a fucking imbecile,” you mutter to yourself, applying a red lipstick on your lips. 

More memories of the past events flowing into your head, and sadly, you have to admit that you really fucked it all up. The outcome was that you didn’t retrieve that necklace. Worse even, you were fucking out-fooled by some other hired killer. And later, it obviously turned out that it had been none other than Min Yoongi. You still remember the day when he appeared in your sister’s office carrying a little silk drawstring bag in his hand. He introduced himself as the man who... Oh my God... Your fist clench at the sheer reminiscence of his self-confident rant.

He said that he was “the man who is capable of carrying out the tasks that other people screw up.” 

He was standing there, looking deeply into your sister’s eyes. Then, he showed you the bag, ostentatiously waving it in front of your faces.

“Do you want to have what`s inside?” he asked. 

Your sister didn’t respond, keenly observing his actions.

“Do you?” he nagged, opening the bag in order to take out the stolen necklace. At this very moment your sister’s eyes were shining just as bright as this breathtaking piece of jewellery. 

“Let me work for you and I’ll give you this and many other things,” he offered, smiling cunningly.

And she agreed. Yes, she fucking agreed. As a consequence, this overconfident prick and annoying jerk, Min Yoongi, has become your co-worker. He has been a member of the gang for almost a year now, pissing you off whenever he just as much as appears in sight. Not to mention the moments when he opens that dirty mouth of his. To your misfortune, he’s one of the most trustworthy people here, and certainly does his job extraordinary well. He’s so full of himself that sometimes you just want to tear him to pieces and make that shitty smirk fade away once and for all, but you can’t. He’s supposed to be your partner, duh. 

“Over my dead body,” the thought flashes through your head, making you frown and cringe. 

You’re also painfully aware of the fact that Min Yoongi occupies your head all the fucking time. An unpleasant and self-loathing feeling creeps over your entire being. You can’t help thinking about him. It’s like the more you try to control yourself the more difficult it becomes. The truth is, you aren’t exactly a good girl. No, not at all. You’ve always teased guys and made them chase you, only to leave them hanging in the end, when you decided you’ve had enough of them. You simply love the feeling of being in power, seeing guys on their knees, ready to cater to all of your whims. Min Yoongi, though... He’s been persistently ignoring you and your presence, something that you’re not exactly used to. He behaves as if he didn’t give a single fuck about you, mocking you all the time and teasing whenever the occasion allows for some little chit-chat. You hate him so much. You despise every single thing about him, and yet... Yet, you keep thinking about him, and it’s all his fault. You know the exact source of your distress. He’s been giving you a roller-coaster ride, being a complete dumb-ass one day and then casually complimenting the way you look the other. Sometimes you’re not even sure if it’s a compliment. He’s been so sly and smug about everything and the way he approaches you that it’s fucking unbelievable. Another flashback troubles your pretty head. The night when he came to your room and kissed you. 

He fucking kissed you. He gripped you roughly to keep you still, and then he fucking kissed you. You were so speechless and utterly shocked you didn’t even know how to react. The kiss was oddly delicate, and should you say, affectionate even? He barely brushed his lips over yours and the grip on your shoulders suddenly became even tighter. He stopped for a moment and then softly licked your lower lip, asking for permission. You let him. You let him do that and shortly afterwards he was pressing you to the wall, kissing fondly and greedily. When both of you were short of breath, he let go, arms still wrapped around you. The look on your face must have been absolutely ridiculous because he laughed out loud, not being able to hold in his amusement.

“You can now close your mouth, silly. I’m not gonna kiss you anymore today,” he whispered tenderly, placing a finger on your lips.

The smug smirk on his face then... You’re going to remember it till the end of your days. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you are completely oblivious to Yoongi’s presence in the room. You jump, startled by the deep and rough tone of his voice that breaks the silence in the bathroom. 

“My wife wouldn’t ever wear such indecent clothes,” he comments mockingly, eyeing up your figure from head to toes.

“Oh, really?” you question, looking at him and trying to hide your state of surprise. You continue, facing him, “Do I really have to say it out loud how much I care about your thoughts on my fashion choice?” 

He tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, “Personally, I think it is not much of a fashion choice if you wear clothes that barely cover your ass.” A smirk follows. You turn around to look at yourself in the mirror again, announcing, “No fucks given, Yoongi. Not even a single one.”

He teasingly keeps on bringing up the main idea behind your mission tonight, that is - you and Yoongi pretending to be a happily married couple, attending to a party organised by your gang’s foe so as to steal some data from his private laptop. You lure the guy to distract his attention, and in the meantime, Yoongi takes care of the laptop. Easy, in theory at least. 

He picks up the topic yet again, purposefully trying to anger you even more, “Please, don’t swear. It is not fit for a lady. Not to mention my wife.” He takes a couple of steps towards you, dangerously closing the distance between you. If he reached out with his hand now he would easily manage to scoop you into his arms. 

“Oh, my. You’re so in character tonight, Yoongi. Does the thought of being my husband excite you so much?” you retort, pretending to be busy with fixing up your hair. 

“Who knows? If I worked a bit on that foul mouth of yours then maybe you wouldn’t turn out to be half bad?” he wonders out loud, staring at your expression in the mirror. 

“For fuck`s sake, why does it have to be you of all people? Couldn’t I go on that mission with Jungkook, or Tae Tae?” you whine  while washing your hands, “Anybody, just not you, dammit.” You pull at the towel angrily, wanting to dry your hands. 

“Maybe we’re meant to be? Try to think about this that way,” he chuckles. “I’d rather die a virgin than be with a jerk like...,” you don’t finish your sentence because the moment you feel Yoongi’s hot breath on the nape of your neck your mouth goes dry. Your hands frantically grip on the washbasin when he abruptly tugs on the hem of your dress in an attempt to cover your ass. You would surely lose balance if not for Yoongi’s rough grip on your hips. Nails digging into your skin and then he hisses into your ear, “I told you to cover it up, didn’t I?” He breathes out, annoyed and then takes a step back. Your body shivers a little. He keeps on observing you attentively in the mirror and then he says, “I’m waiting in the car. We’re going to be late if you continue dolling up like that.” He gives you one last look and then turns around, aiming for the door. When you’re left alone in the bathroom you can feel your legs giving up. You slide down and end up sitting on the cold tiles.

The chauffeur opens up the door of the black Bentley as soon as he notices you going down the stairs. You get into the car, sitting right next to Yoongi on the back seat. 

“I’m sure you’re aware how much depends on our close cooperation tonight,” he clears his throat and then carries on talking, “I’ll need you to divert his attention for approximately 10 minutes... Yeah, I think it should suffice.” The driver starts the engine and your body slightly rocks to the back. Yoongi resumes talking, “Providing, of course, that the guy will be stupid enough to leave his office unattended. If there are thugs keeping an eye on his shit then we’re fucked. And this will be most probably the case... Sometimes I wonder if we’re paid enough here. Your sister’s orders are getting more and more ridiculous.” 

“Wait a minute, dear husband. Aren’t you the man who ‘is capable of carrying out the tasks that other people screw up’, hmm?” you question him, sarcastically. “I’m sure we’ll be all fine, right?” you turn your face to smile gently at him. He is visibly amused by your back talk, but he doesn’t ease up on you, “As long as you make sure not to do more harm than good then yeah, I’d say we’ll most probably be all fine, Pretty face.” That seemingly affectionate pet name he’s just used to address you makes your blood boil. Your press your thighs unconsciously, doing your best to hold your emotions at bay. You promise yourself to pay him back by the end of that evening. You’ll turn the tables tonight, no matter at what cost.

When you arrive at the mansion, it quickly turns out that the place is virtually filled to the brim with the owner’s muscle-men. Not a very promising perspective, unfortunately. You’re sipping your drink at the bar when you feel somebody grabbing at your elbow. It is Yoongi. He drags you to the nearest secluded place and pulls you closer to him. 

“I’ve checked the office. It seems we’re going to have a huge problem to get there,” he informs you, looking around to double check if you’re all alone.

“Seems like it’s the moment for plan B,” you respond nonchalantly. 

“What plan B, Baby doll?” he asks, his pupils getting bigger. 

“Just make sure nobody interrupts me,” you shake of his hands and walk past him, disregarding yet another questionable nickname. 

He watchfully eyes your figure and cautiously follows your lead, keeping his distance. To his surprise, you openly approach the owner and initiate a friendly small talk. It doesn’t last long before he can clearly see, even from afar, that the guy is simply drooling over you. The last thing he registers is how you and your target disappear behind the door of the guy’s office. He swallows hard, his stomach clenching in an unpleasant manner. “Mr Min, would you like a glass of champagne?” a waitress politely offers him a drink, but he blurts out furiously, “Get the hell out of my sight, woman.” He walks away, clenching his fists.

Less than two hours later both of you arrive home, your purse hiding today’s mission loot- a pen drive containing data about the guy’s shady business. A victory. A tremendous success, even. All thanks to you. Yoongi can fuck himself. You walk into your bedroom and immediately collapse on the bed, satisfied. Yoongi enters just after you, loudly slamming the door behind him. 

“How did you get that data? I won’t repeat myself,” his voice as cold as ice. 

“In fact, you did anyway,” you start counting on fingers, “like three or four times already?” God, finally. Finally, you’re the one in control, having him in the palm of your hand. You’re fucking overjoyed, eyes sparkling with excitement. Min fucking Yoongi got what he deserved and you’re certainly going to savour this moment. “Yoongi, why are you so tensed? What happened to your good mood, darling? Tell me, you know you can confide in your wife,” you tease, riling him up even more. Hands gently brushing away some locks of hair that kept on tickling your neck. You flash the most bubbly smile you’re capable of making, eyes gazing into his.

“What the fuck is there on your neck?” he hisses out, making you jump on the bed in alarm.

“My neck?” you ask, totally unaware of the hickey. The look on his face sends a cold shiver down your spine. He comes up to you in three large steps. Your body unconsciously moves backwards, but he catches your elbow and forces you to get off the bed. His grip is so tight and forceful that you whimper in pain.

His nails bite into your arm and the sudden jerk makes you plead him to stop “Yoongi, please!”

“Did you let that bastard touch you?” he asks, doing his best to control his shaky voice. A vein on his forearm swells up, slowly changing its colour into a more bluish shade. 

“Did he fuck you?” he spits out through clenched teeth. 

“No, no, he didn’t. Please let me go!” you cry out, doing what you can to wriggle out of his grasp, but he only squeezes you tighter, bringing you close to his torso. Your eyes meet for what seems to be like an eternity. He looks hurt. You cannot believe in all of that. You want to look away, but he cups your chin with the other hand, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes. Does he actually care about you?

He whispers dryly, “You’re now going to fucking tell me what happened in that stinking office and you’re going to give me even the smallest details. Do you understand, or do you want me to repeat?” 

You nod in response, deciding that perhaps now it’s not the time to carry on with the teasing. “Fine, you fucking psycho. I sweet-talked the guy and he took me to his office, hoping to get laid, I presume. When we were alone I teased him a little and...” you hesitate for a moment, thinking about the best way of saying things out loud, but Yoongi doesn’t appreciate this pause and rushes you to proceed with the answer, “And what?” he blurts out. 

“I can’t fucking believe it. Nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing. I let him kiss me once or twice and then I asked him for a drink. He nibbled at my neck one last time, probably leaving the hickey, and then got up with his ass to take care of the booze. For both of us. I was lucky, because he announced that he has to take a piss. I used my chance and I poured some shit into his drink. He gulped the entire thing at one go, so it didn’t take too long before he was sleeping on the couch like a fucking baby. What else do you wanna know? Eh? Is that detailed enough for you?” you’re almost breathless when you’re done with the story. Yoongi’s piercing gaze makes you feel anxious. What the fuck is wrong with him... You wish you could disappear from this place. His grip loosens a bit, but still, he’s so close that you can feel his hot breath on your cheek. He’s not that tensed anymore, as if a weight was lifted from his heart. 

“Is that supposed to convince me, Baby doll?” the tone of his voice slightly changes, “You’d have to try a little harder.” He smirks, mockingly. You suddenly miss the view from a couple of minutes ago. Insecure and jealous Yoongi is better than that cocky ass. Wait a minute... Is he really jealous? You are determined to check it now. 

“Actually, you can think what you want. Maybe he fucked me senseless on his fancy desk, maybe he didn’t. Who knows?” you smile playfully, “You have no way of telling.” Your words are like a red rag to a bull for Yoongi who must have run out of patience by now. He pushes you and then you land on the bed, completely bewildered. 

“What the fuck, Yoongi?” you snap at him, propping yourself on the elbows.

“If you are so unwilling to cooperate I, as your husband, feel compelled to examine the things personally,” he informs you while placing his knees on the bed. 

You want to pull both of your knees to your chest but he forcefully grasps your thighs in order to spread them. You blush, embarrassed and furious at the same time. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”, hands on his shoulders in an attempt to push him off you. 

“I know a very efficient way of checking your faithfulness, darling. Just don’t fucking move for a moment. Could you, Baby doll?” he questions, tenderly. 

You want to punch him, but he grasps your hand and pulls you in for a kiss. You forget to breathe for a moment, obviously caught off guard. Unlike the first time, he is very rough and pushes his tongue inside your mouth, without waiting for your consent. His tongue expertly swirls around yours and then he seductively nibbles on your lower lip. He purrs softly, vibrations making you shiver in response. He’s very passionate, the tip of his tongue playfully rolls over yours. You melt into the kiss, mentally cursing Yoongi. Your arms are awkwardly spread on the sheets. What are you supposed to do? Hug him back? You are torn. He can’t possibly get to know how much you are enjoying this. Oh lord, but you’ve been itching to have him do dirty things to you for so long that you can’t take it anymore. His kisses are gradually getting more sloppy and desperate. A hand experimentally sneaking under your dress to fondle with the soft flesh of your thigh. His hand is so cold that it makes you squeak. Yoongi smirks into the kiss. He caresses your inner thigh in a circular movement, light strokes barely touching your skin, yet you involuntarily spread your thighs even wider. He takes that as an invitation and confidently pushes his entire finger into your tight pussy. You groan in pleasure, hands now roaming his body. He muffles your desperate moan with the kiss, but pulls away shortly after. You look at him through half-lidded eyes, totally gone at this point. 

“Baby doll, you’re so tight I seriously doubt that ‘he fucked me senseless’ option” he whispers breathily, lips brushing your earlobe and then he tugs at it with his teeth eliciting a whimper from you. He hooks his finger inside you, moving it in and out of your pussy. Your stomach clenches each and very time he hits the back walls of your vagina. You’re still a bit too dry for such a violent penetration, but he doesn’t seem to care at all and keeps going with sharp, deep strokes. His long finger goes all up inside you and then he puts his thumb on the very tip of your clit, brushing it gently. This is the exact moment when you lose all self-control and jerk your hips, wantonly fucking yourself on his finger. Strangled moans escape your lips as he goes on with the rubbing on this extremely sensitive organ while fingering you. He is in so deep that you can feel this familiar pressure just underneath your belly button. It hurts but you want it to be this way. He’s so violent and unforgiving. You raise your head a little and then you meet his piercing dark eyes, clouded with lust and anger. You look away, sheepishly. Face blushing all shades of red as you close your eyes, not being able to bear that intense gaze. He notices your insecurity and fondly rests his forehead on yours. You’re a bit stunned for a moment, obviously surprised at the affectionate gesture. Right then, he inserts a second finger and you arch your hips to help him a little. He smiles softly, so unlike his usual eat-shitting grin. He fingers you so well that soon enough you can hear these wet, sloppy sounds of your slit getting fucked. You’re sure that by now his finger and hand must be covered with your juices. You’re short of breath, wriggling underneath him as you chase your orgasm, uncontrollably clenching around his finger. Just when you’re about to climax, Yoongi withdraws his finger and leaves your pussy clenching around thin air, hips jerking desperately into void. 

You try to grab him and force him to continue as he gets off the bed, but you can’t reach him. Your heart is pounding so loudly that you’re afraid he might actually hear it. In silence, he languidly moves in the direction of the door, which pushes you almost on the verge of tears. You call out his name, voice all shaky, “Yoon... Yoongi!” No response, though. You stand up from the bed, legs trembling as you go after him. You stumble and almost collapse, gripping his shoulders at the last moment and clinging to him in a needy way. You’re afraid to speak because of the lump that formed in your throat. You dig your nails into his back, swallowing a sob. Is he going to leave just like that? He reaches for the doorknob and locks the door. A shiver runs down your spine. 

“What are you doing, Baby doll?” he questions and exhales sharply. 

Then, he places his hands on yours, caressing them tenderly and turns around, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

He purrs softly into your ear “I had to lock the door, I’ve been waiting for too long for this to let anybody disturb us.”

“Fuck you, Yoongi. Seriously, fuck you!” you press your knotted fists into his chest, angry at yourself for losing your cool. 

He abruptly pushes you against the wall, pinning your wrists above your head and sucking the skin of your neck into his mouth. He sucks and nibbles at the sensitive flesh, as if trying to cover the place of the unfortunate hickey with his own mark. Suddenly, he stops and carefully examines the outcome, frowning his eyebrows. 

He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him, “You better listen now, Baby doll. It was the fucking last time you let anybody touch you, apart from me. Are we clear?” You swallow hard. 

“Are we clear?” he repeats enraged and irritated with your lack of response. You simply nod absent-mindedly, staring at his wet lips. He hikes up your dress, ass and pussy on display, and grasps your leg to hook it around his waist. He starts grinding against your wetted core. Your hips rocking in unison. He pants heavily, lips hungrily looking for yours. He sets up a steady rhythm and you do your best to roll your hips together with him. 

“Baby... Baby I need you naked, so badly,” he murmurs, his hands finding their way under your dress, stroking your back and rolling up the material even higher. Seconds later, he simply rips off your dress, taking in the view of your naked body. 

He grunts, satisfied, “It’s even better than I imagined, and believe me, I had high expectations.” Your ears burn with embarrassment at his blunt words. “Has he been imagining things with me?” you think to yourself, digesting what he has just told you. He takes a step back and you find it hard to stand on your own, without his body pressed to yours. He ogles your perfect figure, slowly unbuttoning the white shirt. You haven’t noticed it before, but now the wall feels so unpleasantly cold that you really wish he was closer again, petting your skin and warming you up. With shaky hands you reach for the buttons. He smiles. 

“I wanted to fuck you so roughly you’d never even think about looking at another guy but if you continue being so cute I doubt I’ll be able to do that, Baby,” he whispers in a low voice, leaving the buttons for you and hastily unbuckling his leather belt. 

“Rough or gentle, as long as you make me cum I don’t really care,” you flat-out state your eagerness which makes him chuckle again. 

Finally, you take off his shirt, admiring his torso and perfect stomach and then you help him get rid of the trousers. You gaze down, eyes glued to his boxers that are drenched with pre-cum. You reach for the waistband, not being able to hold back anymore, freeing his cock from the irritating material. His breath hitches when he feels the cold air on his rock-hard cock. 

“Oh fuck Yoongi,” you instinctively press your thighs together when you lay eyes on his erected penis. 

“Yes, baby doll?” he hums softly, pushing you against the wall again and squeezing your ass with all his force. You bite back a moan, unexpectedly wrapping your palm around his shaft. He loves this and encourages you to go on, gently stroking your hair, “Baby doll, you know... Ahh,” he stutters when you grab his balls with the other hand, massaging them lightly while still jerking him off. He takes a deep breath and continues in a strangled voice, “Do you have any idea, how much I’ve always wanted you to do it for me?” The sinful whisper makes your head feel dizzy. His penis is so slick that your hand easily goes up and down his entire length. Then, you start twirling your finger around the head of his penis. At first slowly and sensually but then you go faster and faster and you can literally feel him throbbing. His knees buckle.

 “You have to stop, now,” he orders, weakly trying to push your hands away.

“Do you really want me to stop? I thought you wanted it oh so badly,” you tease, biting on his collarbones. 

He is so riled up and needy at this point that he violently turns you around and forces you to bend down with your ass high up in the air, hands resting on the wall for support. 

“Sure, but there is something I wanted even more... Can you guess what it is, Baby doll?” he mutters, positioning himself and placing one hand on your hip. 

You can feel as he brushes your clit with the tip of his erection and you moan so loud, pushing your ass back into his erected member. He digs his nails into your hip and you writhe underneath him because of the stinging sensation that makes your body shudder. You lift your ass wantonly and accidentally graze his dick with your soaking wet cunt. 

“Can you fucking stay still, fuck...,” he pleads through clenched teeth. 

“Can you fucking get inside already?!” you start grinding him with your ass to get him going and then he shoves his cock inside you, freezing for a moment to calm down his throbbing member. 

Your tight entrance swallows his entire length and his body goes all tense. You cry out his name, begging for more. He takes a couple of deep breaths and then begins moving in a steady rhythm. After a while, he slides all out and rams back in, barely being able to contain a throaty moan building up inside him. He repeats the rough movement a couple of times, making you feel light-headed. Once again there is that burning sensation inside your belly, and then suddenly, the grip on your hips becomes even more desperate, bruising them and causing you a bit of pain. 

“Ahh... How can you be so tight? Dammit,” he questions in a weak voice.

 His dick relentlessly pounding into you, hitting the right spot each and every time. The sounds of his hips slamming into your heat and your lewd moans fill the room, making you lose yourself completely. He rotates his hips a little and then rams back in, and you almost hit the wall with your head. 

He growls low in his throat, “Baby doll, I’m gonna cum soon, and you’re going to cum with me.” 

Your body twitches uncontrollably, you would come anyway... It’s not like he has to make any special effort. Your legs are not far from giving out and your vision is blurry. The only thing that you need now is to feel his cum filling your pussy. 

Suddenly, he pleads, “Y/N, please look at me. Please, I need to see your face,” the grip around your waist makes your skin burn, you can already tell how fucking bruised you will be tomorrow. 

You look behind, gazing into his unbelievably handsome face. A drop of sweat pours down his forehead, his cheeks are flushed and lips swollen. “Son of a bitch,” you curse him mentally but you can’t help staring at him. 

He smiles fondly and suddenly begs once again, “Baby doll, give me your hand, I want to touch you, ahh.” 

“Yoongi, mhm...,” you squeak, reaching to his extended arm. 

He holds your hand tightly and with a couple of rough thrusts your pussy starts clenching around his dick, the waves of pleasure run through your body. Yoongi moans a mixture of curse words and your name when he rides out his orgasm, cumming into you. He loses his pace, being totally lost and pounds into you erratically, never letting go of your hand. When both of you come down from your high, he gently pulls out his now limp cock from your cunt and embraces you, both of you sinking to your knees. He sits down on the floor and lets you collapse on him, positioning you between his thighs. He strokes your back helping you to relax after this roller-coaster of emotions. His cum drips down your leg and your body shudders. You’re so tired your eyes involuntarily close on their own. 

The last thing you hear before drifting off in his arms is his soft whisper, “Baby doll, you’re only mine.”

[sdvxii-moved]

happy april 30th

I need scissors! 61! Kawanishi-Noseguchi, Kinunobebashi, Takiyama, Uguisunomori, Tsuzumigataki, Tada, Hirano, Ichinotorii, Uneno, Yamashita, Sasabe, Kofudai, Tokiwadai, Myoukenguchi. I noticed this a while back, but you have far too many Game Overs. Sorry to be blunt, but you really stink at this game. Honestly, though, you have played the game for a long time. Don't you have anything else to do with your time? I hear it's amazing when the famous purple stuffed worm in flap-jaw space with the tuning fork does a raw blink on Hara-Kiri Rock. Actually, I am in really bad shape financially. I pay money to my ex-wife as part of our divorce settlement, among other bills... I just had no choice but to make you pay for lunch the other day. I'm really sorry. Raiden, something happened to me last Thursday when I was driving home. I had a couple of miles to go -- I looked up and saw a glowing orange object in the sky, to the east! It was moving very irregularly... Suddenly, there was intense light all around me -- and when I came to, I was home. What do you think happened to me...? You wouldn't be trying to give yourself a bogus score using some ingenious trick would you? That's just about as low as anyone could possibly stoop! I can't believe you sometimes... You seem to get a real thrill out of slaughtering the enemy. Are you frustrated about something? I was a North American Fall Webworm in my past life. Those were the good old days... What were you in your former life? La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo! La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo! La-Li-Lu-Le-Lo! Raiden, are you receiving? We're (1) still here. Only (2) GW....To begin with -- we're not what you'd call -- human. Over the past two hundred years -- A kind of consciousness formed layer by layer in the crucible of the White House. It's not unlike the way life started in the oceans four billion years ago. The White House was our primordial soup, a base of evolution - We are formless. We are the very discipline and morality that Americans invoke so often. How can anyone hope to eliminate us? As long as this nation exists, so will we. Jack, don't be silly. Don't you know that our plans have your interests -- not ours -- in mind? Jack, listen carefully like a good boy! The mapping of the human genome was completed early this century. As a result, the evolutionary log of the human race lay open to us. We started with genetic engineering, and in the end, we succeeded in digitizing life itself. But there are things not covered by genetic information. Human memories, ideas. Culture. History. Genes don't contain any record of human history. Is it something that should not be passed on? Should that information be left at the mercy of nature?We've always kept records of our lives. Through words, pictures, symbols... from tablets to books... But not all the information was inherited by later generations. A small percentage of the whole was selected and processed, then passed on. Not unlike genes, really. That's what history is, Jack. But in the current, digitized world, trivial information is accumulating every second, preserved in all its triteness. Never fading, always accessible. Rumors about petty issues, misinterpretations, slander... All this junk data preserved in an unfiltered state, growing at an alarming rate. It will only slow down social progress, reduce the rate of evolution. Raiden, you seem to think that our plan is one of censorship. You're being silly! What we propose to do is not to control content, but to create context. The digital society furthers human flaws and selectively rewards development of convenient half-truths. Just look at the strange juxtapositions of morality around you. Billions spent on new weapons in order to humanely murder other humans. Rights of criminals are given more respect than the privacy of their victims. Although there are people suffering in poverty, huge donations are made to protect endangered species. Everyone grows up being told the same thing. Be nice to other people. But beat out the competition! You're special." "Believe in yourself and you will succeed." But it's obvious from the start that only a few can succeed... You exercise your right to "freedom" and this is the result. All rhetoric to avoid conflict and protect each other from hurt. The untested truths spun by different interests continue to churn and accumulate in the sandbox of political correctness and value systems. Everyone withdraws into their own small gated community, afraid of a larger forum. They stay inside their little ponds, leaking whatever "truth" suits them into the growing cesspool of society at large. The different cardinal truths neither clash nor mesh. No one is invalidated, but nobody is right. Not even natural selection can take place here. The world is being engulfed in "truth." And this is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper. We're trying to stop that from happening. It's our responsibility as rulers. Just as in genetics, unnecessary information and memory must be filtered out to stimulate the evolution of the species. Absolutely. Who else could wade through the sea of garbage you people produce, retrieve valuable truths and even interpret their meaning for later generations? That's what it means to create context. But is that even your own idea? Or something Snake told you? That's the proof of your incompetence, right there. You lack the qualifications to exercise free will. Does something like a "self" exist inside of you? That which you call "self" serves as nothing more than a mask to cover your own being. In this era of ready-made 'truths', "self" is just something used to preserve those positive emotions that you occasionally feel... ...Another possibility is that "self" is a concept you conveniently borrowed under the logic that it would endow you with some sense of strength...Is it? Would you prefer that someone else tell you? Alright then. Explain it to him. Jack, you're simply the best! And you got there all by yourself! Oh, what happened? Do you feel lost? Why not try a bit of soul-searching?Don't think you'll find anything, though... Ironic that although "self" is something that you yourself fashioned, every time something goes wrong, you turn around and place the blame on something else. It's not my fault. It's not your fault. In denial, you simply resort to looking for another, more convenient "truth" in order to make yourself feel better....leaving behind in an instant the so-called "truth" you once embraced. Should someone like that be able to decide what is "truth"?Should someone like you even have the right to decide? You've done nothing but abuse your freedom. You don't deserve to be free! We're not the ones smothering the world. You are. The individual is supposed to be weak. But far from powerless -- a single person has the potential to ruin the world. And the age of digitized communication has given even more power to the individual. Too much power for an immature species. Building a legacy involves figuring out what is wanted, and what needs to be done for that goal. All this, you used to struggle with. Now, we think for you. We are your guardians after all. -- You want to control human thought? Human behavior? Of course. Anything can be quantified nowadays. That's what this exercise was designed to prove. You fell in love with me just as you were meant to, after all. Isn't that right, Jack? Ocelot was not told the whole truth, to say the least. We rule an entire nation -- of what interest would a single soldier, no matter how able, be to us? The S3 Plan does not stand for Solid Snake Simulation. What it does stand for is Selection for Societal Sanity... The S3 is a system for controlling human will and consciousness. S3 is not you, a soldier trained in the image of Solid Snake. It is -- a method, a protocol, that created a circumstance that made you what you are. So you see, we're the S3. Not you. What you experienced was the final test of its effectiveness. You heard what President Johnson said. "The Arsenal's 'GW' system is the key to their supremacy." The objective of this exercise was to establish such a method. We used Shadow Moses as a paradigm for the exercise. I wonder if you would have preferred a fantasy setting? We chose that backdrop because of its extreme circumstances. It was an optimal test for S3's crisis management capacity. If the model could trigger, control and solve this, it would be ready for any contingency. And now, we have our proof. Raiden, there are also reasons behind your selection. Solidus raised plenty of other child soldiers. Do you know why we chose you over them? It was because you were the only one who refused to acknowledge the past. All the others remember what they were, and pay for it daily. But you turn your back on everything you don't like. You do whatever you like, see only the things you like, and for yourself alone. Yes -- Rose can attest to that. You refused to see me for what I was. I lied to you, but I wanted to be caught. You pretended to be understanding, to be a gentleman... You never made a conscious attempt to reach out to me... The only time you did was when I gave you no choice but to do so... What? "Trying not to hurt me?" Dear, the one you were trying not to hurt was yourself! Avoiding the truth under the guise of "kindness" is all that you did! It occurred to you to do nothing but look out for yourself. Even if you claim that it was for my sake, that feeling was nowhere to be seen. In the end, everything was for your sake... I was never part of the picture. Ha, ha, ha...exactly right. So you see, you're a perfect representative of the masses we need to protect. This is why we chose you. You accepted the fiction we've provided, obeyed our orders and did everything you were told to. The exercise is a resounding success. "Didn't I tell you that GW was still incomplete? But not anymore, thanks to you." Your persona, experiences, triumphs and defeats are nothing but byproducts. The real objective was ensuring that we could generate and manipulate them. It's taken a lot of time and money, but it was well worth it considering the results. I think that's enough talk. It's time for the final exercise. Raiden, take Solidus down. Oh really? Aren't you forgetting something? "If you die, my child dies. " The termination of vital signals from your nanomachines means the death of Olga's child. Not to mention the death of Rose. She's wired the same way. "Of course I do, Jack! You have to beLIEve me!" It will be a fight to the death. Solidus, at least, wants you dead. We will collect the necessary data from this last fight, then we'll consider the exercise closed. So, Jack the Ripper! Will it be Solidus, the Patriots' creation? Or you -- Solidus' creation? Our beloved monsters -- enjoy yourselves. Jack, do you remember what day it is?

[thisishowyouletgoandfindyou-blog]

Why Relationships Don’t Work. ~ Kristin Luce

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Kristin Luce

on Sep 25, 2013

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After a quarter century of personal, scholastic and professional experience with relationships, I have finally discovered why none of them work—neither for me, nor for anyone with whom I have encountered.

To illustrate the point, let me tell you about my most successful relationship to date. It lasted for 36 hours.

We met at a party of mutual friends, and quickly fell into a “Bubble of Wow,” together. It encapsulated us in a solitary and intense kind of intimacy for a while—even in the midst of the fray and party-goers—until we finally found a quieter space.

We then spent most of the next day and a half together. It was one of those, “where have you been all my life” kind of things.

When we parted on an early morning a day and a half later—after lots more “Wow”—I could feel that something was shifting ever-so-slightly in him, and for the next three days he didn’t call or reach out in any way.

~

*Dear elephant reader: if you're single & looking for mindful dating or conscious love, try out our lovely partner, MeetMindful.

~

I didn’t either.

I sensed that time was needed for whatever had come up between us. When I finally sent a short text (“I’d love to see you”), he texted back simply that he could not—that he was, in his words, “out of his integrity.” I never saw him again.

So after 25 years of intimacy and working with couples why is this 36-hour, seemingly failed connection, the most successful relationship I have ever encountered?

It’s successful because I didn’t feel blame or outrage that he “ditched me.” I just heard him: he was out of his integrity. I don’t want my friends or loved ones to feel out of their integrity.

Hell, if my kid told me she felt out of her integrity and was changing things in her life to rectify it I would applaud her! I might take her out for sushi to celebrate. (her favorite) Why would I want someone whom I care about to compromise himself?

I want to note that this wasn’t just an intellectual understanding and that is why, for me, it was successful.

Had I tried to talk myself into being happy about it (read: suppressed smoldering rage at being rejected), well, it would hardly have been a success story. The beauty and testament of it was that my actual, visceral, uncontrived response at not seeing him again—a man I liked and wanted very much—was joyful.

When I realized that my desire for him to be happy was stronger than my own personal disappointment, I knew that I had turned a corner.

So let’s take a hard look at why relationships never seem to pan out. I mean, really—have you ever seen a functional relationship? There are some that seem to be functional, or possibly even very good, but we never really get to know too much about them. Then later, we discover the seedy underbelly—often when the couple splits—and are disillusioned all over again.

This one had domestic violence in it. That one has been a sexless marriage for the past 10 years. This one had one partner lying and cheating on the other. That one was more of a business arrangement, waiting patiently until the kids were out of the house. The list goes on and on.

Further, the relationships that seem truly mature are ones that we know almost nothing about: Adaya and Mukti, Barak and Michelle, Katie and Stephen, Will and Jada—never-mind the myriad hollywood couples that are constantly appearing as perfect and happy in the media.

Perhaps they are the exceptions, or perhaps they are just a whole lot better at hiding what isn’t perfect about them. The point is that I have never had a direct experience of what most of us would call a deeply mature, intimate relationship that lasts over time, and no one I have ever met has either.

It seems, quite frankly, that relationships don’t work. And as a long-term researcher, impassioned by the mystery of it, I think I have discovered why.

Relationships are based on the fallacy that I exist, you exist, and that my happiness, connection and fulfillment can be met by something from the outside—that there even is an outside.

That might sound esoteric, but stick with me.

When we look at our experience we can’t actually find a “person,” or even a “self.” In any experience we can find what we call color, the sound of a voice, the experience of a touch, etc. Without a belief in a self, other or time—which are all just thoughts and images in the mind and have no substance—all we have is this moment.

No past, no future, no lover, no “relationship,” and that—to spoil the ending—is the only place where intimacy can reside.

The truth is that we are all living in fantasy-land and we build our relationships on that ground. What it means is that as long as you have an ego your relationships will fail.

So at this point you might be thinking, “OK that’s pretty depressing. I guess I have to become a celibate hermit or else resign myself to having painful, non-functional relationships.”

Herein lies the solution: Recognize that relationships are not primarily based on love, they are based on fear. Once we know this, we can work directly with the fear itself instead of on the other person or “the relationship.” We may discover that relating with another is not about our pleasure or comfort at all (although that’s sometimes a by-product), but about discarding every confusion we are still trapped in.

Byron Katie said, “Egos don’t love, they want something.”

When ego is operating—which let’s face it is pretty much 100% of the time—then no matter how good we try to be, how loving, selfless, kind or noble, we in fact want something.

We might simply want their approval, or we might want financial security, someone to stand by us, to be seen in a particular way, their validation, to avoid responsibility, or a long list of other things.

There is nothing wrong or bad about wanting something from someone. In fact, without the thought that we shouldn’t want something in a relationship, we can simply get honest and admit that we do! We might also notice that our partners do too. So, if you think that your partner is manipulating you to get what they want, it’s probably because they are.

They are not bad, just like we are not bad. They are motivated by fear, just as we are.

So how does fear operate? It motivate us to leave love in order to stay “in control.”

It whispers things in our ears like:

“You’ll be alone.”

“You won’t be able to support yourself.”

“You’ll be homeless.”

“You’ll become dependent.”

“They will manipulate you if you show your love too much.”

“They’ll use it against you later.”

“You need their love and affection.”

“You’ll never be happy again.”

What happens when we believe such thoughts is, ironically, that in the name of love we leave it. We begin to manipulate, withhold, and lie to our partners in order to get what we want or avoid losing something.

Here’s an example:

When I didn’t hear from “Wow-Bubble” Guy I could have pretended that I was no longer interested, told him that he was out of integrity by not talking more directly with me (especially now that I’ve discovered that his being in integrity is a sore spot for him), cajoled him into viewing our connection as an important relationship and insinuated that he was just scared.

I could have threatened to withdraw my appreciation of him or even to see him again—or used any of other the tactics that I have in my past relationships to try to get what I want.

That is not love.

That is reaction based on fear—fear of what will happen and/or what his actions mean about me.

OK, so my encounter was just a day and a half, but what happens when our fearful thoughts prey on a longer term relationship, one in which we have far more invested in? What happens when we watch as our blissful intimacies predictably begin to fail?

Most of us withdraw, manipulate, become fearful, jealous, go into denial, blame ourselves, become controlling or lash out. Meanwhile our partner is doing some version of the same thing. Even though we may be “in relationship” over time we are way out at sea, alone and often in pain.

At some point we face the ugly dilemma of whether it would cause us less pain to leave the relationship or to endure it, even while recognizing that neither of those prongs will bring peace because neither gives us the intimacy, connection, or comfort we seek.

So brace yourselves. Here’s what love looks like.

Love is feeling delight when your partner ditches you. Love is when you can’t find a partner and you enjoy how happy others are to have found one themselves—and all that’s beautiful about sleeping alone. Love is leaving someone you know you shouldn’t be with rather than holding them hostage to your fantasy or needs. Love is when you love and appreciate another who apparently doesn’t appreciate you back, or maybe even notice you.

I sometimes attend a drop-in group mostly to bask in the presence of a beautiful man who’s often there and apparently has no interest in me. I get to see him, adore him, hear his brilliance and witness his huge heart. I

sometimes even get to hug and smell him. Pure love, without requirements or agenda.

Here’s the secret and the power of it: If you want a good relationship then have one. Take it, don’t wait for permission. If you want love then be love and you will never be separated from intimacy and connection again.

What does that look like? It means caring for the other as much as yourself, especially when he or she doesn’t do what you want. It means deeply respecting what they want for themselves, which may or may not mean being near you. It means that if they say “don’t call me,” then don’t, and keep your heart wide open. It means if they say, “I need you,” and it’s not right for you, you say “no,” and keep your heart wide open.

So, I know what some of you are thinking: “If I let go of trying to get what I want in relationship then I will never have it.” But why would unilaterally staying open to someone—loving them and setting them totally free from your own expectations and judgments—make a positive, functional or long term relationship any less likely?

I think it would make it a lot more likely actually, and in the meantime how much fun is it to adore everyone like your own, sweet lover, whether they know it or not?

I will leave you with a quote. It will be a blessing to you every time your relationships fail—as they predictably will—while you quietly become love itself: