#sorry posting these separately cause i'm still not over that cut

[kimdokjas]

[5ueckers]

but i'm a cheerleader

pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

warnings : smut. semi–public sex.

notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠

words : 2148

xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.

you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.

you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.

but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.

yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.

your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.

while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.

“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.

there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”

her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”

“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.

she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.

you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.

“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.

paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.

you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”

“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”

she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.

high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.

she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”

one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.

you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.

“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.

“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.

“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.

your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.

“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.

“want you,”

“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”

you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.

her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.

paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.

“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”

paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”

you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.

you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.

and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.

you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.

“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.

what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.

“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.

“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”

paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.

“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.

she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.

“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.

paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”

you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.

finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.

“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.

“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”

she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”

she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”

“10/10, hands down!”

[dilemmars]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ DIE WITH A SMILE. ”⠀⠀───⠀⠀arcane.

⠀⠀𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾.⠀( the base violence necessary for change , 9.3k words. )⠀by dilemmars.

1.⠀⠀ PAIRING⠀⠀:⠀⠀violet x f!reader.

2.⠀⠀GENRES⠀⠀:⠀⠀based on the storyline and universe of arcane ( league of legends tv show )⠀; first love trope, started dating recently, stablished relationship, exes to lovers. basically you and vi were dating before the start of the story, then got separated.

3.⠀⠀WARNINGS⠀⠀:⠀⠀i will add the warnings that the tv show has: slight presence of sex and nudity, foul language, alcohol, drugs and tobacco. moderate scenes of fear and terror. high content of violence and gore. in this third chapter, there's a lot going on. mentions of death, injuries, prostitution, blood, fights, and a brief suicidal thought at the end. please do not read if you're uncomfortable with it.

4.⠀⠀AUTHOR 'S NOTE⠀⠀:⠀⠀third chapter out! i'm so sorry thta it took me another full day to post a new chapter. i haven't even watched act 3 yet because i lit have no time, but i managed to finish this. it is very sad. i'm sorry about that too. but next chapter will be slightly more relaxed, with less drama, i promise. happy sunday 🤍

5.⠀⠀IMPORTANT⠀⠀:⠀⠀this is a work of fiction. i do not own arcane or any content produced or owned bychristian linke, alex yee, riot games or netflix. all rights belong to netflix and the writers of arcane. all plot events and character developments that are not related to the main character's story belong to the writers and creators of the series.

It's hard to know what your last breath will be, but sometimes you can feel the moment lurking, like a shadow looming over you, icy and heavy. Crouched on that rooftop, the air had a strange edge to it, as if each breath cut inside. The mist rising from the streets scratched at your throat, but it wasn't just mist. It was the weight of the inevitable.

You paused, frowning, as the usual swaying of the wooden sign of Benzo's caused your gaze to wander towards the entrance of the shop. And before you could comprehend what was happening, the scream came as a jolt, tearing through the silence of the night. It was as if the sound pierced your skin, sinking into your flesh, clinging to your bones. The kind of scream you can't help but hear, a gasp ripped from a throat. A hopeless, desperate voice that forces you to imagine the pain behind it. One last breath, and a body slumped to the ground.

And then, you caught a glimpse of him. A blurred figure, moving with a ferocity that seemed unnatural, unloading a punch on another uniformed officer, the glare of his gaze utterly animalistic. You cowered over the edge of the building, struggling not to look away, and flinched at the brutality of the pounding. The Enforcers all looked the same, with the metal mask and the blue cap, but the creature that had attacked them was familiar. It seemed less human with every movement, a mass of disfigured flesh and purplish meandering veins, but the curve of its chin, the soft wave of its hair... you had been so close to its face that you had come to memorise it.

Deckard. You recognised the sharp turn of his movements, accentuated in that state. You had felt his violence in your own skin, you knew it. Altered into a violent beast, he still retained some of that cruel strength, no doubt hindered by the way his body had grown and deformed. You saw him ignore the authoritative warning of a third Enforcer, and approach her at superhuman speed. In the blink of an eye, the police collapsed at his feet, like a drunk by a tavern door. Her blood spilled down the wall of the tent, sloshing everywhere, and you followed it with your eyes as it slid between the stones, thick, after Deckard had torn her flesh to the bone.

The force of his attack hit you like a shot in your chest, and you clutched at the concrete beneath your hands as if you could somehow anchor yourself to the past. There was silence in the weathered street. You could only hear your ragged breathing, quickening under your skin, and Deckard's silent footsteps as he disappeared. Night had fallen on Zaun like a blanket on your bed, and you felt it on your shoulders, suffocating you. You looked down again, where the rickety bodies of the agents lay like broken dolls on the pavement, their stiff fingers still gripping their pistols, and you could faintly distinguish the movement of someone approaching them in the shadows.

Measuring his pace, as if calculating every step he took, a fourth Enforcer approached the bodies of the fallen agents, his service gun in his hand, and he hesitated. For a moment you wanted to say something to him, to warn him perhaps, that there was a beast loose in the darkness, tell him to run away while he could, but a movement in the dusk stopped you. He was not alone. Behind him, shoulder to shoulder at the entrance to the shop, two frozen figures watched the scene. You felt a knot in your chest as you recognised them: Vander and Benzo. Their stances looked sharp, like a taut bow about to shoot an arrow, ready to defend themselves if necessary.

You leaned forward, caught between the urge to descend and the helplessness of knowing you could do nothing from up there, but something stopped you. You saw something dancing in the fog, the soft walk of a distorted silhouette slowly approaching from the other side of the street. You tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine, a shiver that was not only cold, but that also contained more than just that, the fear locked in your ribcage, rising up to feel it pulsing in your throat.

And then, the glow of embers in the night: a kaleidoscope of shadows and flames, pierced by a scar, so different from its twin that they looked like the eyes of two different people. The face, sharp, pale, and an imperturbable pace, so sure of himself that the ground seemed to tremble beneath his feet.

‘Silco?’ Benzo, hesitant, confused at first, turned rabid as he brandished the old silver candlestick in the direction of the unknown man. ‘You animal,’ he said, coming closer, stumbling, ’go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.’

You couldn't see the venomous smile that tugged at Silco's thin lips, but you did hear the desperate tone torn from Vander's throat as he raised his hands towards his friend, cuffed, useless, trying to prevent the inevitable, ‘Benzo, stay back!’

‘You never did know when to walk away,’ Silco's voice, velvety, echoed down the street, emptying the silence, and your heart stopped inside your chest as Benzo tried to pounce on him.

The motion was too fast for the human eye. One instant, Benzo had raged forward, steadfast, defying the impassive man of mist. The next, Deckard's raw strength had brought Benzo down in a bundle of violet swirls, the body of the one who had cared for you since you were a child lying lifeless on the ground. The creaking of his bones echoed wet and dry at the same time, like tree branches snapping under too much weight, the blood surging beneath his shoulders, as if fleeing from the veins it was ceasing to flow through.

From the rooftop, it all seemed painfully distant. You brought a trembling hand to your mouth, a scream dying in your throat, watching Deckard keep his hand on Benzo's neck. His crooked fingers seemed to tingle from feeling the violence of death again, waiting, hovering over Benzo to check that he was gone, and you heard Vander's torn whimper, his legs buckling under his weight, under the weight of loss.

‘Stubborn to the end,’ muttered Silco, relishing each word with reverence.

But then the Enforcer left standing dropped his arms, defeated, betrayed, half-face covered by the mask they wore so as not to breathe Zaun's toxic air, and questioned Silco angrily, ‘What the hell have you done? This wasn't the deal!’

The echo of his words expanded, vibrating inside your head as if searching for a place to linger, and you stood still, watching from the shadows as that chilling scene unfolded, kneeling on the edge of the building, utterly overwhelmed.

‘Deal's changed.’

Silco's words reverberated on the cobblestone floor of the poorly lit street, ringing in your ears, as you tried to clear your mind. You took a breath of air, which cut, cold, down your throat, and looked down. You could still hear his voice, ominously calm and low, and the clink of coins clattering on the floor. A deal. Between the topside and the underground. You frowned, realising that there were no fire stairs on that front, and accentuated your frown as you tried to understand why someone from Zaun would want to ally himself with an Enforcer, of all people.

Before you could even try to slide down the wall, however, leaping from window to window as you had done in the past, you heard Deckard's heavy footsteps on the cobblestone floor, and you raised your head. He was slowly approaching Vander, with no sign of a reaction from the owner of The Last Drop, letting out a low growl as the beast finally took up a position in front of him. His arm swung once like the pendulum of an old clock, and the punch blew against Vander's face with a low, muffled thud, causing him to stagger under its weight.

Your throat closed as you watched him anchor his legs to the ground to keep from falling. You saw him drop his shoulders, defeated, as if he had forgotten his own strength, and he stood just as still as you did whilst Deckard shoved his hand through Vander's hair, grabbing him violently and pulling him to the ground. You watched him, because you were unable to do anything else, as if fear had slid liquid across your skin until it solidified around your ankles, the monstrous creature dragging Vander across the ground. 

It was the certainty. Vander, who had picked you up off the street at your weakest moment, who had taught you how to defend yourself, who had shown you the resilience that characterised him like a class while learning how to make Powder's favourite juice, had been reduced to a shadow of his former self by a punch. What could you have done to stop it? To stand between Vander and the one who had abused you as much as he had wanted? To face Deckard's vicious eyes once more, risking losing him all the same?

It wouldn't have helped.

You watched them walk, Silco's figure turning away from the chaos of shadows and death he left behind him, while Deckard followed close behind, gripping Vander's hair with a bruising strength. Your fingers itched. You had braided that hair many times, elaborate and funny designs as you grew up, but those hands were treating it cruelly, a monster freed of any kind of sentience. And it hurt. Watching them disappear into the fog, the Enforcer staggering down the street to the other side, it stung like an open wound. You bit your cheek, holding back the tears that threatened to slide down your skin, and felt the blood on your tongue like a foul aftertaste.

And then you heard it. The cry, choked and broken, that pierced your chest like a sharp knife. You stood up, waking the legs that had felt numb against the concrete edge of the rooftop, and moved on instinct, ignoring the insignificant discomfort of your ankle every time you leaned on it.

It was Vi. You slid across the roof, your feet seeking support on the nearest window ledge, hanging on to it to climb down to the next, and continued descending. You followed the heartbreaking sound of Vi's voice, drowning out her own sobs, and swallowed all the emotions you didn't want to feel, focused on finding your girlfriend. The polish of your nails peeled as you buried your fingers in joints between bricks, clinging to them to keep from falling to the ground, and you closed your eyes tightly before you took the last leap, placing most of your weight on your good foot as you landed on the ground.

You rose to your feet, a shiver running through your skin, as you heard the piercing cry of frustration, and turned to face it with a jolt. It had come from Benzo's shop. Had she been there all that time? You frowned, restless, and turned towards the massacre, clenching your jaw and staring straight ahead. You had to get Vi out of there. That was your priority. You couldn't afford to look at the ground, to collapse. Every breath you took, the air sounded slightly ragged, as if you were about to scream but held back, and you clenched your hands into fists as you dodged the bodies sprawled on the floor.

Your first step into Benzo's shop was hesitant, like an unconfident fawn's. You didn't want to think that it was the first time you would enter the place knowing that its owner would never come back to wait for you behind the counter, but the certainty came back to you again and again, as if brought by the tide. There was almost no light, the little oil lamps that were scattered around the shelves were off, as if they held a mourning you had not yet faced, and the darkness brought with it a feeling of coldness that dug into your bones.

‘Vi,’ you whispered, your choked voice faintly spilling across the room. ‘Vi!’ you repeated, louder.

You heard your name, low, dazed, almost vanishing into thin air, and tried to follow it. It was the storage room. She had been locked in the storeroom.

‘Wait!’ you said, rushing to the counter, ‘I'll get you out!’

You tried to piece together what had happened, your hand searching in the gloom for the spare key Benzo always kept in the wooden drawers. It was in Vi's nature to have tried to fix everything herself. It was inherent in her, to carry as much of the burden as possible so that her siblings —and even you, if you got into trouble— wouldn't have to suffer the consequences. You didn't know how she could have warned the Enforcers, but you knew they had come to Benzo's shop for her. You knew it as clearly as you knew you would have done the same for her if it had happened.

But if Vander had shown up, it was also because he had discovered her. And if he had been wearing the handcuffs, it had been him who had locked her in the storeroom. To stop her from doing another stupid thing. Maybe Vander wasn't her biological father, but a strained smile tugged at your lips at the thought that they were more alike than they allowed themselves to think they were.

When your fingertips brushed against the metal frame of the key, you grabbed onto it, running the few meters between the countertop and the door behind which Vi stood. Your hands trembled as you slid it into its lock, holding your breath as you tried a second time, and you turned it on its axis twice, as you had done so many times in the past, pulling the heavy door off its hinges so that you could wrap your arms around Vi's body.

She clung to you tightly, choking her sobs in the crook of your neck, and the silence grew heavy around you, empty of hope. You felt Vi's hands squeeze your shirt, squeezing your body against hers, her warm tears sliding down your skin. You looked up at the ceiling, letting out a shaky sigh between your lips, and ran your hand up her back until it was tangled in her hair. Her shoulders shook under your touch to the rhythm of her own sobs, and you stayed still beside her for as long as she needed, allowing her to collapse.

‘Did you see what happened?’ you finally murmured against her hair, as her breathing slowly regulated.

‘Not much,’ she replied, her voice broken by tears, pulling away from you to rub her hands across her face. ‘Did you?’

‘It was Benzo...’ you began, and you hated the way you faltered before continuing. ‘They killed Benzo. And the Enforcers, some of them...’

‘And Vander?’

‘He's alive,’ you said, sliding your hand down his arm. ‘They took him.’

And your breath hitched as you realised.

He was alive. They had taken him, but he was still alive. Your mind was scrambling, trying to plan an impulse that came to you like a tug at your heart, watching the tears glisten on Vi's freckled cheeks. You couldn't let her lose someone else. Piltover had taken enough from her. Vander was still alive, you told yourself. He was still breathing, his chest was rising and falling, even if he hadn't had the strength to rise and confront them. He was alive, and you still had a chance to fight for him.

Your face took on a more worried tinge, ‘We need to find out where they've taken him.’

Vi looked up at you, her unfocused eyes darting across your face, but she nodded.

‘I know where,’ muttered a voice behind you. You turned abruptly, brow furrowed in distrust, and felt the pain wither against your ribcage. Ekko.

Little Ekko, never as small as he looked at that moment, his shoulders slumped forward and his crystallised gaze fixed on you. You took a step forward, ready to take him in your arms, but it was he who crossed the distance between you, taking refuge in your embrace. The pained expression on his face melted into tears as you snaked your hands around his back, and your own lump in your throat threatened to unravel as you felt him cry against your chest.

‘They killed him,’ he murmured, over and over against your skin, choking back his own tears.

‘I know, kid,’ you replied, unable to understand what you were supposed to do at that moment. You felt the warmth of unshed drops in your own eyes, and fought against them, burying your face in his hair as you felt one slide down your cheek. ‘I'm sorry, I'm sorry.’

‘We'll get them, Ekko,’ Vi promised, resting one hand on your back, stroking you comfortingly, and another on the boy's shoulder.

He parted slowly, rubbing his hand over his cheeks as Vi had done a few minutes before, and looked at the two of you, trying to gather the energy to speak. You couldn't stop to think what it must have felt like, watching Benzo die like that and still finding the strength to follow the perpetrators, the murderers, just so you could have a glimmer of hope of getting Vander back. He had been very brave.

‘It should be quick,’ you said, cradling his face in your hand, the pain shining in your gaze. ‘An hour and a half, maybe, tops two hours.’ You slid your gaze slightly to Vi, who was watching you with her brows furrowed in a helpless gesture, and added, ‘If we're not back then, please, go to my Mom's, yeah?’

Your mother would know what to do. She always did. She would take care of Ekko.

‘But...,’ he stammered, and you decided to ignore the way his chin began to tremble again, new tears gathering in his almond-shaped dark eyes.

‘No buts, Ekko,’ you replied, interrupting him gently. You took a breath of air, tangling your fingers in his short pale hair, pulling him to your body, and held him tightly in your arms. ‘I need you to be safe, please,’ you implored.

‘I don't want to lose you,’ he murmured against the fabric of your shirt, and you felt every movement of his lips, your own face struggling not to cry. 

You looked up, blinking back tears, sighing the lump in your throat, ‘You won't,’ you told him, stroking his white curls, ‘you have my word. I'll come back in one piece.’

You forced yourself to pull away from him, your hands on his shoulders, and slid your thumb over his cheeks to wipe away the strands of tears that had leaked from his eyes, trying to muster the courage to flash a crooked smile. It wasn't easy, but you couldn't afford to look weak. Not in front of him, not when he needed you more than ever.

‘Besides,’ you whispered, unbuttoning your waistcoat, holding the pocket watch between your fingers, resting it against his chest in a graceful motion, ‘who's going to look after my watch while I'm gone?’

‘Are you going to let me keep it?’ he asked, cupping it in his two hands as if it were a treasure. He slid his fingertips over the silver curve of its circumference, over the twelve chipped numbers you had drawn above it - all Roman numerals - and looked up at you.

‘Forever,’ you promised, nodding solemnly.

He pounced on you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and you melted into his embrace with closed eyes, memorising every detail. Vi joined in a sigh, wrapping her strong arms around you, and for a moment you remained buried under your own skin, wishing that it was all a nightmare and that when you opened your eyes, the rapid breathing, tears and screams were just part of yet another of your childish games.

Reality was far crueler than a kid's imagination.

You felt Vi's hand intertwined with yours like a shackle pulling you back to consciousness, the faint discomfort of your ankle keeping you sane as she led you to The Last Drop. You hadn't exchanged a word since you had left Ekko in the same room of broken glass you had fled from that morning, hidden in the rafters of the ceiling, and both of remained trapped in your minds, thoughts running at too much speed.

It was difficult to face such a situation. As inhabitants of Zaun, loss was part of your DNA. You came into the world crying for the loss of your future, a future that had been taken from you at the founding of the city, and you mourned the violence that you would inevitably encounter, ever-present in the streets of the underground. Vi had endured the death of her biological parents, as had Powder and the rest of the Vander children, and you had been born without knowing who your father was, growing up surrounded by brutality.

You didn't know what your girlfriend was thinking, but you tried to remember if you'd ever spent enough time in the docks to have been able to investigate the large building that loomed over the water, as if it were floating. Ekko had claimed to see the man of mist and Deckard disappear within its tall brick walls, but had refused to come any closer. You had left a soft kiss on his forehead as a farewell, and in a glance you and Vi had known what to do.

Vander had trained you for such a moment. He had spent years teaching you how to defend yourselves, practising boxing with you, training you to take care of your own. You had always assumed it would be complicated, any fight was. But as much as Vander had been a proponent of using violence, in his past, you had also learned peace. It was clear that Silco would not accept a dialogue, a bargain of any kind. He had negotiated with that Enforcer for Vander. Vander had been his target.

The importance of acting was to do it right. And if you sneaked in and out, as you'd done so many times before to get some food, you'd all sleep on the top floor of The Last Drop that night, listening to Vander's snoring, the sheets moving every time Powder rolled over in her bed, and Vi's body warm against yours.

The bar was dead silent when you slipped in through the back door, and you assumed Vander would have closed up before he went to find Vi. You waited a few moments for her as she went inside to fetch the gauntlets Vander always kept hanging over the counter, and slipped down the stairs to the small room in the basement of the building when she returned with a shake of her head. Someone had taken them.

‘Vi?’ uttered Claggor, turning to you as she opened the door. He added your name, avoiding the hint of a question. You tried to force a smile as you realised that they had always assumed that if one of you was there, the other would appear shortly after.

Vi came down the stairs two at a time, ignoring the two boys, and slid her eyes around the room, searching for the gauntlets, ‘Where are the...?’

You sat on one of the steps, listening to the soft thump of Powder's body as she pounced on her older sister, and pulled your trousers up to your knee, untying your laces at full speed. Whenever Vi was set on something, she acted on instinct and with great speed. You didn't know if she would look for something more —except perhaps other weapons— but you delegated finding them to her. You had little time to slow down the way your ankle was going to worsen its condition irremediably in the remainder of the night.

Nor did you have much more strength than she did to explain what had happened.

You pulled off the bandages you carried in your pocket, resting them on the old wood of the stairs, as you heard Vi's quickened breathing echo through the room, pulling your injured foot up a step to remove your boot. You looked up when you heard Mylo protest, ‘Hey, those are Vander's,’ he said, grabbing Vi by the wrist. ‘Slow down. What is going on?’

‘Benzo's dead,’ she muttered, and you closed your eyes for a moment, before continuing to untie the tight knot in your shoes. 

‘Dead?’ Claggor repeated, and you wondered if you were better off waiting outside. You removed your sock, shook your head, took a breath of air, and picked up the bandages, placing your foot on the knee of your other leg.

‘They took Vander.’

‘Who took Vander?’ added Claggor, as you began to wrap the bandage around your ankle, taut, inflexible on your skin, tense enough so that when you came back your joints wouldn't resent it. You did it angrily, trying to bury all the emotions you had managed to control so far.

‘I don't know,’ you heard Vi reply, and her voice sounded slightly closer as she turned to include you in the conversation, ’we're gonna help him.’

‘We're going with you,’ Mylo replied, almost as if he was hurt that it hadn't occurred to you earlier.

You put your sock back on when the bandages felt like a second skin over your foot, and tied your boots tightly. A bloody sprain wasn't going to stop you from rescuing Vander. It wasn't going to stop you from bringing him back, safely, home. You weren't going to let it. You looked up, sighing, and tried to intervene.

‘Whatever killed Benzo...’ you said, and your breath caught in your throat.

‘It was nothing like I've ever seen,’ Vi continued, and her voice trembled as much as yours. ‘It tore him apart.’

You saw the way her shoulders tensed before even the first sob slipped from her mouth, but you didn't have a chance to approach her before her brothers, who embraced her warmly, all united by stubbornness and impotence. Vi put her hands to her face, covering the obstinate tears she did not want to let fall down her cheeks, and you knew she had come to the same conclusion as you. They were both going to want to go with you, and you were going to need their help, no matter how much Vi wanted to keep them safe.

‘You're not doing this alone,’ Claggor stated, determined.

‘He's our father too,’ Mylo added, his hand tracing circles on Vi's back. ’Do we know where they took him?’

‘Ekko followed them,’ you interjected, clearing your throat as Vi stowed what her brothers had left on the table in one of the backpacks you always left lying around. ‘The old cannery next to the docks. He said...’

You looked up from the backpack, calming yourself once you realised it had been the boys who had taken the gauntlets, but the muscles in your back tensed again as you noticed Powder standing in front of you, a look of determination on her face, and a suitcase in her hands. Of course she wanted to go with you too.

Vi turned to you as she heard you hesitate, and exhaled an exhausted sigh at the sight of her sister.

‘I need you to sit this one out, Powder,’ she asked, approaching her.

‘What?’ her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and your heart crumpled in your chest. Ekko had been easier to convince because he had seen what had happened. He was shocked, willing to wait for you to return. But Powder had always followed his sister's example, longing for a chance to show her worth and to stop being treated like a child.

‘You're not coming,’ and Powder's expression was worse than if she'd received a slap in the face.

‘I'm not afraid,’ she replied, desperate within the quietness of her response.

You couldn't intervene on this occasion. Nor were Mylo and Claggor going to. It went beyond their sense of responsibility, this was a blood sister fight to see which of the two would get their way. And the older one always had the upper hand.

‘It's too dangerous,’ Vi added, and you didn't have to see the gleam in her eye to know that she needed Powder to listen to her, to understand why she was asking so much of her.

‘But families stick together,’ Powder continued, accentuating his frown, ’you said it yourself.’

‘I know what I said...’

‘I want to fight,’ she announced, and the freckles creased on her cheeks as she looked up, raging, at Vi. ‘I can help.’

‘You're not ready,’ Vi replied, and her sharp tone cut over Powder's determination, shattering what hope remained. You saw how Vi held her breath for a moment, regretting her choice of words, and tried to correct them in a whisper. ‘You're all I have left,’ she said, resting the palm of her hand against Powder's cheek. ‘I can't lose you.’

‘Here,’ you uttered, in a soft, conciliatory tone, approaching them with one of the flares you had in a box under the stairs. It was a blue smoke one, a symbol you had talked about more than once with Powder, making jokes about the colour of her hair.

Vi took it gently from your hands, handing it to her little sister, ‘If they come for you, take this and run,’ she whispered, her gaze locked on Powder's pale pink eyes. ‘Wherever you are, light it up and I'll find you.’

Eyes shining, you almost couldn't hear the last words, a gentle ‘I promise’ murmured against Powder's face as she leaned down to rest her forehead against her sister's, memorising the warmth of her body before parting. You turned, beckoning Mylo and Claggor up the stairs, and you followed, leaving the sisters a few more seconds together.

The mood seemed somewhat subdued, Mylo's mouth closed in an altogether uncharacteristic muteness, and you peeled back your lips to make some comment to cheer them. The words died in your throat when you reached the landing, suddenly surrounded by Claggor's arms, and you held your breath in surprise.

‘I'm sorry,’ he said, and Mylo repeated it, both of them hugging you.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of weakness, and let out a choked sob against Claggor's shoulder, still feeling the lump in your throat.

‘It's not your fault,’ you murmured back, ’it's not.’

‘It's not yours either,’ Vi uttered, and you turned your face towards her, who had just appeared through the door.

You tried to curl your lips into a grateful smile, your eyelids quivering to keep from shedding a tear, ‘I know.’

But it wasn't true, because you could never find out what would have happened if you had come down from that rooftop before Silco appeared, if you had warned the Enforcers of Deckard's presence. It was already in the past, you had lost your opportunity. Maybe, if you had confronted them while Vander and Benzo were still conscious, everything would be fine. Maybe your presence would had led them to fight back. And that was something Vi didn't know either.

You trailed behind, but kept pace as Vi led you through the crooked streets of Zaun, turning corners and ignoring drunken men, towards the city borders. The docks were not a highly desirable place, though one to which Madam sent many prostitutes on the days of disembarkation. Most traders transacted goods with the topside, and its bright and shiny harbours, but those who dealt in coal and alcohol had to make a stop at the Lanes, and the black market in its streets.

That building, however, looked even darker in the moonlight, the mist rising from the water creating a cloak of eerie mystery around it. You walked around its perimeter in a couple of minutes, trying to figure out which entrance was the most secluded but best accessible, and it was your keen eye that located an open window on the first floor. You climbed onto Claggor's shoulders, a rope at your shoulder, and clung tightly to one of the pipes, checking with a smirk that it would be able to support your weight.

Of the four of you, you were the best at climbing. You were elusive, small and slender for your age, even more so than the children of Zaun, no doubt a consequence of the fact that on many days your mother had been unable to offer you food to put in your mouth. The need to hide had made you learn to duck between the rooftops of the city, and though Vi was better at leaping from building to building, you were certainly the sneakiest of the bunch.

You even seemed to glide along the facades, you'd been told, clawing at bricks and picking out which spots on the wall were best to rest your limbs on, as you were doing at the moment. You panted as you managed to get your arm over the window sill, sliding your leg over so that you could slide into the building, and held your breath as you glanced down the dark corridor. No one seemed to be there. You grabbed the coiled rope you had slung over your shoulder and began to drag it down the window, waiting for Vi's two tugs before you crouched on the floor and braced your feet against the wall.

You held on, with the rope wrapped around your waist and tugging at it while the others climbed, and left it hidden under the window once everyone had climbed up. In case any guards found it, they wouldn't know where to start looking, and you doubted you would need it to escape. Vander was too heavy and too weakened to get out the way you had come in.

You scanned the corridors of the warehouse, rusty platforms stacked in a narrow space, and hurried to take up position behind Claggor, the four of you forming a line with Vi in front and Mylo last, slouching forward under the riveted iron pipe railings. Vi signalled to you when she realised that there was a poorly lit room on the upper floor, and you all hurried up the stairs, still crouching. 

When you reached the other side of the corridor, Vi leaned forward, peering quickly, and turned to you with a triumphant smile, voicelessly pronouncing that Vander was there. You rested a hand on Claggor's shoulder as you felt Mylo's on your waist, and you advanced at a rapid pace until you reached the room, where Vander sat, defeated, in a big iron chair, all his limbs imprisoned by metal straps, fastened by padlocks.

You saw him spit blood, his broad chest straining to breathe out a hoarse cough, and he whispered a soft ‘Vi,’ his unfocused eyes closing as he felt his eldest daughter's arms slipping around his shoulders in a hug. His tone became more urgent as he realised you were really there, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We're breaking you out,’ Vi explained, as you picked up the backpack she had left on the ground.

You opened it, kneeling on the ground, and pulled out the lock-picking device you had built for Mylo. It didn't always work, but it was the best you had. ‘Mylo,’ you called, and tossed the gadget to him.

‘On it!’

You turned towards the door, rising to your feet to check that no one was coming in, your fingers tingling to check the time on a watch you no longer had, but you froze when you heard Vander's husky voice.

‘How... how did you get in?’ he said, stuttering hurriedly over the words that were building up in his mouth. ‘There's guards everywhere.’

Oh God. Of course it had been a trap. 

‘It was easy,’ you heard Vi reply, her tone losing its strength as the realisation dawned on her. ‘We found an open window and...’

You rushed over to the backpack, hastily pulling out the weapons that Claggor and Mylo had gathered, as you saw Claggor's figure hurrying to grab his favourite dagger, trying to release one of Vander's wrists from its prison. The man made eye contact with you, Vi stepping behind you to watch the door, and you held back a sob as you heard Vander again, ‘You have to get out. Now.’

No. You weren't going to leave him again. You weren't going to fail at the same task twice. There had to be time, you could do it. Silco's men probably hadn't even realised you were in yet, you had a chance, you could....

But you heard a clap reverberate through the warehouse, soft and dangerous, and your breath caught in your throat.

Silco.

‘Welcome,’ he murmured, his voice flowing like a river down its course, the sound of his rhythmic clapping coming hopelessly closer to you, ‘you have my congratulations,’ you tried to ignore it, to keep the memory of his tone from bringing back the vision of Benzo's body falling to the ground, but it came to you with the force of a storm, leaving you breathless, ‘but i'm afraid this will be a very short reunion.’

You refused to turn toward him, your hands instinctively gripping Vander's gauntlets, and Vi positioned herself at your side, shooting a defiant glare at the man of mist as she held out her arms for you to place Vander's weapons on her.

‘Have you heard the rumours?’ he added, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, ‘Vander the coward fled town with his children. And they were never seen again.’

You finished knotting the second gauntlet to your girlfriend's wrist, the straps stiff but comfortable on her pale skin, and exchanged a glance with her. You were going to make it. You rested your hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly, and she gave you a fragile but sincere smile, real, just for you. Vi was the best at boxing. You took a quick glance back, your gaze hardening as you saw that Silco was surrounded by his followers, a bunch of buff men and women, all of them ready to fight. You sighed, determined. If there was anyone who could take on a man two heads taller, and visibly stronger, it was her.

You moved your hand up to the nape of her neck, stroking the lower part of her hair, and closed your eyes as you rested your forehead on his. It was a good-luck caress, a wish to go home, a temporary goodbye. She took a breath of air, parting from you reluctantly, as she always did, and positioned herself at your back. You saw the way Claggor's dagger broke from too much pressure, and heard Vi's first step toward the door.

‘Claggor, see if you can find another way out of here,’ you ordered him, rotating your shoulders. You saw him nod, watching out of the corner of your eye as Mylo wrestled with the device in the lock on Vander's right leg. Claggor nodded. Vander looked at you, concerned.

‘You don't have to do this,’ he said, but you knew he was talking to Vi.

‘Yes I do,’ she replied, determined, resolved.

Your priority was to get Vander out of there, to get everyone home safely. You ignored Vander's strangled gasp as Vi's quickened footsteps echoed over the metal lattice floor of the corridor, and you brought your hands to your head, grabbing the two long metal bobby pins you wore in your hair, both sharp and U-shaped. You crouched down next to Vander's other leg, and picked up the padlock. Inventions were your thing, you had to figure out how to open it.

You looked over your shoulder when you heard a thud behind you, momentarily startled, but smiled as you saw Vi, exultant in the middle of the bridge, and in the floor the body of the giant tattooed man you had seen when you turned around. That was your girl. You inserted one of the hairpins into the lock hole, noticing how Vander relaxed minimally against the seat as he saw that his daughter was perfectly capable, and then turned the other, recreating the teeth of a key. You imagined the mechanism under the padlock's metal cover, turning its gears to loosen.

Everything was going to be all right.

‘Mylo,’ you heard Vander, and saw out of the corner of your eye that Mylo had slipped the device to the floor. ‘You can do this.’

You looked over at Claggor, your fingers struggling against the lock, and saw that he had found a crack in the wall. There were enough tools in the backpack for him to open a hole. Perfect. You took a breath of air, forcing your wrist to turn the downward facing bobby pin all the way around, and the locking bow opened with a soft snap. You removed the hairpins, withdrawing the lock, and Vander rested his leg on the ground.

‘We're gonna get you out,’ you murmured, crouching down next to Mylo. ‘Hey, Myls,’ you said, laying your hands on top of his, helping him move them nimbly, ‘big breath.’

You felt him inhaling briefly, closing his eyes to feel the gears of the device against his palm, and you exchanged a glance as the smooth sound was repeated, releasing Vander's other leg.

‘We got this,’ he whispered, more encouraged.

‘Of course we do,’ you replied, placing a hand on Vander's knee to pull yourself to your feet.

Vi's soft panting continued to echo off the walls of the warehouse, to the rhythm of the punches of her gauntlet-covered fists as they impacted against the bodies of Silco's minions, and you looked back once more. Vi was rising against a bare-chested man, her shoulders tense, turned so that she could deliver another blow.

You focused on the lock on Vander's wrist as Mylo did the same on the other side of the chair, holding your hairpins tightly, moving your hands as fast as you could. You listened to your heart pounding in your ears, for a moment drowning out all sound from outside, like every time you secluded yourself in your studio, until you heard the first howl.

It reverberated in your mind, emptying it of all thought, like a shadow stretching over you. Deckard. You turned, eyes widening in horror, the mass of flesh that was the boy who had once abused you looming over Vi, and for a moment your heart stopped in your chest. In the darkness, you were only able to make out the fluorescent violet color of his veins, Vi's light pink hair, facing each other. You had seen what Deckard was capable of. You weren't going to let Vi end up like Benzo and those Enforcers.

‘Mylo, hurry,’ Vander pleaded, as you twisted the hairpins urgently, releasing the lock as soon as it gave way.

You turned toward the backpack, watching in horror as Vi leapt toward Deckard, and grabbed the first thing you saw. A piece of pipe, thin and hard against your hand, long enough that you could strike without getting too close. It wasn't a sword, but it would have to do. You looked up, checking that Claggor had already begun removing bricks from the wall, and advanced toward the deck, ignoring the way Deckard had grabbed Vi by the neck.

‘Silco, let her go!’ shouted Vander, slamming his free hand on the armrest of his chair. ‘This is between you and me!’

‘You had your chance,’ Silco replied, not even flinching.

Vi coughed, a choked, desperate sound, followed by a scraped gasp in her throat, seeking oxygen, and you slid onto the metal walkway. Deckard was barely aware that you had moved behind him, too focused on snatching every last breath of air from your girlfriend's lungs, and he dropped her against the ground as you jumped, unloading the pipe against his skull with all the force you had.

Deckard grumbled, an anguished scream spilling from his mouth, and you let go of the pipe, running to Vi. You slung one of her arms over your shoulders, one of yours around her waist, and carried her back to the room where Vander was, panting, the pain in your ankle beginning to awaken. You gritted your teeth, leaving Vi on the floor, leaning against the wall, and charged over to the sliding iron door, doing your best to close it. When you felt the door slam as it hit the wall, blocking Deckard's access, you pushed past the latch, collapsing against the floor, your shoulder pressed up to the door, just in case.

“You did good,” Vander whispered, looking at you, at Vi, his gaze clouded with admiration.

You merely nodded, exhausted, as Claggor continued to throw bricks, opening a large hole in the wall. You felt light, despite your tiredness, and leaned your head against the door. Mylo was struggling with the last lock, but you knew he was going to make it. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a heartbeat, sighing, a moment of quiet before the first bang came. It echoed through the room, metallic and dry, and you felt it coursing through your body. Deckard was trying to reach you all.

You watched as Vi sat up, the one fist that still retained a gauntlet resting on the ground to stand, and tried to crawl to sit beside you, her chest rising and falling at full speed. There was only waiting, you knew. A slow, agonizing wait, until the boys were done with their part of the mission. You felt Vi lean her head on your shoulder, your bodies moving in time to Deckard's pounding, straining against the door to try and hold on as long as it took, and you clenched your jaw.

You were going to make it. A knock, a furtive glance at Mylo, and you heard the soft sound of the lock being released. You were going to make it. One punch, your shoulders tensed, and Vander was finally free. You. Were. Going. To. Make. It. One punch. A gentle squeeze on Vi's free hand. And Claggor finished tore a hole in the wall. You stood up, advancing forward, and then, just silence.

Suddenly, an explosion. You stopped, alert, your eyes wide, and turned to Vi. She had the same terrified expression on her face, one hand resting on the door to pull herself to her feet. You listened carefully over your ragged breathing, your ankle throbbing, your throat dry. Another explosion, closer this time. You turned to Vander, frowning, looking at him as if he could have some kind of answer. He extended his hand toward you, gesturing for Vi to hurry towards them.

A third explosion, and the world around you ceased to exist.

The crackling of the fire, soft and malleable in your ears, was what greeted you when you woke up. Your mouth felt dry, ragged, as if you had swallowed dust, but you opened it anyway, taking in a big breath of air. The oxygen burned your tongue, your eyes still closed, and you tried to move your hands, but you were unable to. You were caught.

The weight of certainty hovered over your ribcage, imprisoning it against the ground, and you moved your head on the cement beneath you, the ground warm against your forehead. You breathed in a second time, your respiration becoming more erratic, and then it hit you. Ashes. There were ashes everywhere, flames eating up the space in the room as if to make you disappear.

You opened your eyes, hearing a faint cough somewhere, and tried to focus your gaze on some point, but you saw only shadows and fire, dancing over you, coming closer, taunting you, and then going away again. You turned your head, looking for some familiar figure, Vander's comforting gaze in the darkness, Vi's soothing touch on your skin, but you were alone. You clenched your jaw, trying to fight against the stone that held you prisoner on the ground, but you found it impossible.

And then, a cry. In a déjà vu, you stirred again under your stone prison, turning toward the desperate sound of Vi's voice. You couldn't see her, but you knew she was there. Your chest was beginning to ache under the weight of the stone, each time managing to breathe less and less air, but you gritted your teeth, struggling, and managed to get a hand out. You mumbled your girlfriend's name, calling her name amidst the chaos, and sobbed when you got no response.

It seemed like the end. You felt dirty, drenched in sweat, stiff under the night of Zaun, and you were unable to perceive your legs, dumb under the stone. They were bricks, probably. Or the roof, perhaps. Snippets of the explosion came back to your memory, the dull sound against your ears, the brutality of the shockwave, and you looked straight ahead again. Vi was there, somewhere, and you had to get to her.

You fought against the cement block above you, trying to move it with your hips, with your arms, doing everything you could to get out of there, until you heard your name. In a wail, low and desperate, to your right. You turned, ignoring the laceration from the edge of the stone on your torso, and saw her. Her clear, frightened gaze, calling for you, the desperate gesture of her body. She was trapped under the metal door.

A growl, a large, dark silhouette in the smoke, and pounding. But you ignored them. You tried to turn a little more, struggling to reach Vi, your fingernails clawing at the ground and the ashes under your hand, dragging you towards her. Then the floor began to shake under your fingers, the ringing in your ears intensifying. The door imprisoning Vi flew off, and she crawled over to you, her hand outstretched in search of yours.

You stretched out your arm to reach for her, flinching as you heard a pained shout from Vander, extending your fingers, reaching out as far as you could for her, but before you could finally touch her fingers, a monstrous figure loomed over both of you, snarling, and grabbed Vi's body, leaping out of the building.

Your hand fell to the ground, defeated, and the walls that were left standing shook with the force of another explosion. You closed your eyes, stubborn, and shook yourself. You had to get to Vi. You had to find her, and Vander, and together you would search for Mylo and Claggor. You would return home. Nothing would have been in vain.

The flames crackled louder around you, almost warning you that getting up was a bad idea, but you ignored them. You weren't going to listen to them. You rested one hand on the ground, the other pulling the stone above you. You weren't strong enough to be able to lift it, but maybe you could wriggle out from under it. You were good at crawling, you could do it. You heard a cry of pain, distant but sharp against your chest, wholly yours. Your shoulder began to burn.

The first drop landed on your cheek. For a moment you thought it was blood, thick and dark against your skin, but then another fell on your chest, light and cool, and a next, and a next. Rain. It was raining. Water, cold and clear, that made the fire sizzle around you. You breathed a sigh of relief as you rested your shoulder on the ground, the dust and rain soothing the burns that threatened to sear your flesh, and leaned forward again. One arm in front of the other, ignoring the pain, pulling yourself back up as you fell to the ground, slowly and achingly moving forward.

Your legs wobbled as you tried to stand up. The bandages on your ankle were soaked in blood, which slid down from your thigh, staining everything in its path. Your torso was bruised, throbbing against your hand, and your ears were ringing. You leaned against the stone that had been above you, towering over it, and blinked, sliding your gaze around the room.

And then you saw them, Mylo and Claggor. Buried under the pieces of ceiling that had collapsed on top of you, motionless, drained of blood. Your breath caught in your throat, and you took a step toward them, a sob piercing your throat. There was nothing to be done, you knew. Still you knelt beside them, stroking Claggor's face, running your mangled fingers through Mylo's hair. You couldn't leave them. They were your family, you had to take care of them.

Powder's desperate scream echoed across the starry sky of Zaun, and your heart pulled forward in your ribs, your head turning toward the giant gap in the wall. Powder. She was supposed to be safe, in The Last Drop. She wasn't supposed to see any of this. She was supposed to wait for you to come back, in a couple of hours, and hold each other, perhaps commenting on it all as a successful anecdote. Mourning Benzo, honoring his memory.

Powder wasn't supposed to be there.

You rose to your feet once more, brow furrowed in concentration, gritting your teeth as you braced your injured leg on the floor, crawling, leaning against the walls to get out of there. You walked the metal corridors of the deserted building, of the cemetery of concrete and fire, descending the stairs one at a time, holding back the screams of pain that threatened to spill out of your mouth. You had to get to her, protect her, look for Vi, find Vander. Together you'd be okay. You always had been. You could make it through, with Ekko, with your mother's help. You would make it. You could fix it.

The night air greeted you like a slap in the face, the empty street echoing your footsteps. No one was there. You had heard Powder, you were sure. But she wasn't there. In a haze of light and shadow, you saw a body on the ground. Everything was gone, but there was another corpse right in front of you. You approached slowly, limping, gasping for breath, until you were able to recognize his face.

It was not Deckard, as you had wished. It was Vander's bruised and deformed face, turned into a monstrous beast, the violet blood spilled under his body. You put a hand to your mouth, falling to your knees beside him, collapsing. And the lump in your throat finally burst, a scream leaving your mouth, resting your forehead on his chest. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

You looked up, the loneliness caressing an uneasy shiver across your skin, and stared before you, seeing nothing.

Sometimes your last breath doesn't belong to you. It is stolen, ripped away by others with firm and merciless hands. One second, one heartbeat, one desperate look. One second, one heartbeat, and life leaves your eyes. Other times you hold your breath, the emptiness opening in your chest, deepening as you try to contain it. You tell yourself it's the end, that you need it to be. But it isn't. You end up breathing. You let the oxygen invade you again, even though it feels like a weight on your chest. You keep breathing, even though you wish you weren't.

⠀⠀𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.⠀( send an ask or comment under the series to be part of it , just if you're going to interact with it ━reblogging with feedback. )⠀@im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @celestialzdiviner , @corpsebridenightamare , @louissst28 , @astr1dblogs , @notsolarry , @starlostastronaut , @yoonkinii , @padsfirewhisky , @luvrluvrr , @ssqra , @darkmoonchic , @urlocalsabito , @spicetouched , @astrxwitch , @deadlynightshadebylana , @bachirastoe , @pickmmeup , @your-scarlett-world

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[kjupchurch-xx]

I’m doing random one shots/imagines on Hugh Jackman on WattPad. I’m new to Tumblr, so I may not always post them here. You can enjoy these on my WattPad as well, my profile is under @kjupchurch

✨ Remarkable ✨

August 5th, 2024

                      Los Angeles, California

           ���This contains SMUT✨

I yawned while stretching out into the California king sized bed, feeling the soft mattress swallow my body. Over the last several months, Hugh and I have been staying in Ryan Reynolds guest home for the filming and now press from Deadpool & Wolverine. As much as I was enjoying LA, I missed my own bed. I missed our home in NYC.

Hugh and I have been together for the past eight months. Had you told me last August that one year from now I'd be in California, or that a bunch of A-List celebrities would know I'd exist, I would've never believed you. I was an ordinary, normal 25-year-old girl from the East Coast when I'd met Hugh. He was freshly separated from his wife of 27 years, Deborra-Lee Furness at the time.

Sometimes I still have to pinch myself to remind me that I'm not in some sort of weird dream.

I looked down feeling my phone vibrate from a text. I sleepily smiled as I saw his name pop up.

Hugh 💋: Hey Love, Noldsy and I are getting ready to pull up at the house. Are you awake?

Me: I'm up. I'll see you soon. 😘

I must've fallen asleep shortly after seeing the text because I awoke to the sound of the bedroom door opening. I could smell his cologne and he was nowhere near me yet. He always smelled heavenly.

"Hey, Love. I'm back." He said, in his thick Australian accent that leaves me weak in the knees every time I hear it.

I sleepily smiled, "Hey, baby. How was it?" I asked, pulling myself up to sit up in the large bed.

He pressed a soft kiss against my lips, "Awesome as always. It was only missing you."

I chuckled as he pulled away, "I'm sorry, Love. I'm still exhausted from the interviews earlier. I'm still not used to this go, go, go thing."

He smiled, pulling his shirt off, heading in the direction of the bathroom, "I know. You'll get used to it soon enough, babe. I'm gonna hop in the shower, would you like to join me?" He asked while turning back to face me.

I lazily got out of the bed smirking at him, following suit, "Is that even a real question? Do I want to join you?"

He chuckled hearing the sarcasm in my words, whilst shrugging his shoulders. "Hey, you never know. I have to pinch myself sometimes because I'm wondering what a beautiful gal like you would want with some old bloke like me."

I rolled my eyes as we entered the bathroom, flipping the dim setting lights on. "Shut up. I have to pinch myself considering you like older women and I'm..." I began jokingly counting on my fingers, "Like 30 years younger than you."

It was now his turn to roll his eyes. He laughed almost embarrassingly, "Shut it. You see how that turned out. I figured I needed to expand my horizons."

I noticed his gaze dropping to my breasts as I removed the t-shirt I had on, revealing no bra underneath. I couldn't help myself as my eyes trailed to his cut abs. How this man was about to be 56 years old blows my mind daily. I slowly pulled off my underwear as I heard him turn the faucet for the shower on shortly before removing his shoes, black jeans and his boxer briefs.

He slowly walked closer towards me and grasped both of my cheeks, pulling me closer towards him while looking into my eyes. His hazel eyes burning through my green ones, causing me to look down. Even after eight months of being with this beautiful man, his presence still made me somewhat shy at times.

His voice softened barely above a whisper, "I missed you so much, Love." I felt his thumb begin caressing my cheek and couldn't escape the smile appearing on my lips.

I whispered back, "You have no idea how much I missed you." I briefly looked up to see the sweet smile appearing on his face.

"Come on now, don't be shy, baby." He said with a smirk, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

The blush appearing on my cheeks was practically burning my skin. Hugh grabbed my arm, pulling me into the shower with him. Thankfully, Ryan's guest house has a massive shower, so there would be no fighting over who gets the water while the other person freezes to death in the corner waiting their turn.

The feeling of the water cascading down our skin feels indescribable. After the jam packed week we've had, it feels phenomenal. I was shaken from my thoughts as I felt two strong arms wrap around me.

"You're quiet, you okay, love?" He asked softly, looking down at me.

He towers me, me being 5'0 and him being 6'2. It certainly has its perks.

I nodded, "I'm okay, I'm just exhausted." I said with a small chuckle.

The sound of his chuckles filled my ears, "I am too. We've got another full day of it tomorrow."

I nodded, pressing a soft kiss on his peck muscle, "I know."

There are so many things that I want to do, but I'm genuinely exhausted and I'm sure that he is as well with the hectic schedule he's been running on. I'm shaken from my thoughts as I feel a poking sensation pressing against my abdomen, right near my belly button. I smirked, "Really?"

He chuckled with a small shrug of his shoulders, "I'm sorry babe, I'm holdin' your naked body, it's just a natural reaction."

As tired as I am, he turns me on so much that resisting the temptation is almost impossible. I slowly ran my hand down his chest, towards his abs and let my fingers caress his happy trail. I could feel the poking sensation grow harder as my hand inches towards his waistline as he let out a small chuckle. I looked up, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss as my fingers trailed past the happy trail, grabbing his hard member. I could feel him produce a low moan against my lips.

Our tongues danced for dominance as I slowly stroked him. He quickly pushed us towards the shower wall, pinning my back against the hard slick tile. I could feel him nibbling on my bottom lip as my hand began stroking quicker. I broke the kiss and began placing kisses on his neck. I could feel him throw his head back in pleasure while moans escaped his lips. I trailed wet kisses down his chest, sinking to the floor to run my tongue down his chiseled abs.

I maintained eye contact with him as I quickly replaced my hand that was on his now throbbing cock with my mouth. He looked down at me whilst biting his bottom lip, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Oh, Baby." He moaned, caressing my chin pulling it upwards forcing me to hold my eye contact as my lips traced over the tip of his cock. I felt his hand move towards the back of my head as he began thrusting into my mouth.

He grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back up to kiss him. He placed his hands under my ass cheeks and lifted me up, holding me against the shower wall, never breaking the kiss. I felt the tip of his cock brush against my entrance, sending shockwaves through my core.

Against my lips, he spoke seductively, "Look at me, baby." As he slowly entered me, I gasped at his size. He was big. He was well endowed, and well over 6 inches long. Even after eight months, it still takes me a minute to adjust.

After giving me a minute to regain my composure, he began slamming into me while my cries of pleasure filled the dimly lit room. He smirked at me, "That's my good girl. Cum for me."

The sound of his husky Australian voice sent me over the edge. I sank my nails into his back as I felt my orgasm fast approaching.

He bit my lip, "I want you to cum for me." He growled, thrusting at a quicker pace.

There's no way Ryan and Blake hadn't ever overheard us. Even in a guest house, we tend to get very loud.

As he slammed into me one last time, I felt myself melt into him as my orgasm ravage my body. I felt him throbbing as he came deep inside me. He sat me down on my feet and grinned at me cheekily while kissing my forehead.

"Now we really do need a shower." I said chuckling, grabbing my loofa and soap.

Once we finished showering, I followed Hugh into the joining bedroom and collapsed back into the bed. He collapsed next to me, pulling me into his arms. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the musky scent of his body wash.

"I missed you today." I mumbled, twirling my fingers in his chest hair.

"I missed you too, love. Loads." He said softly.

I felt him shift under me so he could look down at me, "Why are you so quiet today, babe? This is not like you. What's wrong?"

I sighed, "I've just been in my head today. Nothing too crazy, I promise."

He began running his fingers through my hair, "Tell me what's bothering you."

Chuckling I said, "I don't know. This is all just... crazy."

He looked at me knowingly with a slight smirk in his expression, "What is?"

"You. Me. California. Movie premiers. All of it. One year ago, I was a normal person that went to work at a job I hated every day. I lived in a small town. Now I'm in bed with Wolverine. How does this even happen?" I said laughing.

He positioned himself upwards on his elbows, causing me to lift up and look at him. He almost couldn't wipe the cheeky smile off his face.

I chuckled, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked throwing my hands up in defeat.

He shook his head, still not moving the smile from his lips, "A year ago, I didn't imagine my life would be like this either."

I playfully rolled my eyes, "Is that a good thing?"

He nodded, "A very good thing. I fell for you because you're the most remarkable person I've ever met." He leaned in to kiss me softly.

"You're in my bed because I realized I'm incapable of being away from you." He placed another soft kiss on my lips.

"And you're so damn beautiful. You make me feel like the luckiest bloke in the world. Almost like I won the jackpot on a Scratchy." He smirked, giving me a small chuckle followed by another peck on the lips.

I smiled, laughing "You're ridiculous. And we call them scratch-offs." I said jokingly.

He playfully held his chest as if he were offended, "Hey, I'm an Australian. We say things less complicated than you guys do here."

I playfully rolled my eyes again, "Whatever, Hugh Ackerman."

His face erupted into laughter, "Let's have a cuddle and get some sleep, love." He said softly while pulling me into his arms.

[n-i-m-u-e]

What if Rhaenyra had taken over the raising of her siblings

I'm going to write more detailed posts on each of these heds eventually (and possibly add more heds here)

Maybe I'm looking in the wrong area or missing something... But I'm surprised that there's almost no discussion of what would happen if Rhaenyra took over raising her younger siblings. I found literally ONE (1) fic about this and it`s shame! For example, if Alicent died giving birth to Daeron (yes, I'm willing to sacrifice her for that). And Rhaenyra, who shortly afterwards welcomed her first child and felt that incredible overwhelming rush of oxytocin love for Jace, couldn't stand looking at her dear friend's baby childrens (and to a lesser extent her younger siblings) who were left alone . It was obvious that Viserys was still Viserys and didn't really care for them. So Rhaenyra asked her father for permission to raise Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and the newborn Daeron alongside Jace and her future children. Sorry, but I'm just in love with this idea: Alicent's children receive the same amount of care, unconditional parental love and acceptance from their older sister as Rhaenyra's children (!!!)

Aegon grows quite calmly without greens pressure. He has plenty of attention but also a lot of freedom and, accordingly, doesn't try to drown out his anxiety about unwanted responsibility with alcohol and sex from a young age. But even when his adolescent interest in these things manifested itself, it is hard to imagine that his foster mother, represented by Rhaenyra, would have condemned or tabooed it. Most likely, she simply kept it under control and sent Laenor or even Harwin bc girl can dream to talk him about the birds and the bees

Helaena's prophecies will be heard. Rhaenyra spends quite a lot of time with her little sister. Because as much as she adores all her boys, it's the baby girl (long-cherished dream) who fascinates her the most way. Everyone around says that the child acts strangely for her age, but Rhaenyra doesn't see anything too disturbing in her behavior. Over time, she begins to pay more attention to what Helaena saying, and at some point she remembers Daenys the Dreamer

Aegon can make really funny and inoffensive jokes. One time at dinner, he decided to make a joke about Aemond's dragonless, and Rhaenyra looked at him with suuuuuch disappointment, that he never wanted to be the cause of her look 'like this` again

So yes, the boys never bullied Aemond because he didn't have a dragon. But Rhaenyra, who realised his need very well, supported the desire to get one. Perhaps at some point she told the family that she and Aemond would be away for a while and took him on Cyrax's back to Dragonstone, where they stayed for several weeks. But when they finally returned to the capital, Aemond was riding Vermitor.

Aegon and Helaena were not engaged and didn't get into an unhappy marriage later.

Daeron is definitely staying in King's Landing. Because there is no way Otto would have any leverage! But the main motive for Rhaenyra was the inadmissibility of the little boy being cut off from his home, and heritage. And most importantly, Daeron and Jace grew up practically like twins and could not bear to be separated even for a short time.

Aemond is this one, who is most outraged about the rumors about the ancestry of her older sister's children and takes it as a personal attack. Because… because he has very personal reasons!

At Laena's funeral, Helaena approaches her grieving cousins and hugs them one by one, and then says something to Rhaena something about ‘the morning will fix a lot of things’. No one understood at the time, but the orphaned girls were visibly comforted, and for the first time in her life, Helaena Targaryen had friends.

Aegon was going through a phase of severe pre-pubescent crash in Rhaenyra and for several months in a row he tried to challenge Laenor to a ‘death duel’ to ‘free his sister from the chains of marriage’. A few years later, when Laenor ‘died’, it was Aegon who took it the hardest of all the children.

Aemond has the better (perfect) Valyrian pronunciation and two eyes:)

to be continued...

my apologise for any mistakes, english is not my native language and I typed this in a rush at my office instead of the royalty report

[kriscommitscrimes]

IN-DEPTH CHARACTER ANALYSIS OF KRIS(MAS) DREEMURR

Hello! I've wanted to make this post for a WHILE now, since Kris is my favourite character ever, and I LOVE analyzing characters!!

Anyway before I start just remember that people consume media differently, and this is just what I've personally picked up on. You may interpret certain points I make differently to me, and that's ok! I'm just sharing MY analysis of Kris, at the end of the day, they're a character who has never spoken any dialogue that's visible to us, so their intentions behind certain things could be interpreted differently depending on who's consuming the media.

Kris will be EXCLUSIVELY referred to by they/them (they/them/themself specifically) pronouns throughout this post. If you refer to them as anything other than they/them while interacting with this post I'm gonna block you on the spot sorry.

ANALYSIS BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S LONG!!! TW there's probably some swearing I can't remember

By the way, I'm not including any screenshots because I. forgot to take them last time I played through Deltarune, but the next time that I do, I'm going to make like a revamped version of this post with screenshots. Sorry about that!!

Kris is their own, separate character from the player. This is a no-brainer if you've actually played through Deltarune and paid the slightest bit of attention to it. Kris is their own, separate character with a VERY distinct, interesting personality, who had a life before the events of Deltarune, and even still has control over some things that they say and do while in our control.

Kris isn't actually a quiet person. Kris, in reality, is an overdramatic, sassy, talkative person who often draws attention to themself by scaring people (especially Noelle), and causing scenes. They CONSTANTLY play mean spirited pranks on Noelle or pressure her into things (I'm NOT talking about Snowgrave, I'll get to thar later), like shaking the ferris wheel carriage despite Noelle being scared of heights, and telling her that ICE-E is real and eats kids. They still do this during the events for Deltarune, like if you go against Noelle's wishes and pet the cheese, Kris strokes it like a cat, and if you give Noelle a healing item called a Choco Diamond, she says something along the lines of 'Umm, it's ok, Kris, I'll share', and both of them get healed. We don't choose for Kris to force Noelle to share, that's a decision they make. As for drawing attention to themself, the first thing that comes to mind is they falling to the ground and sulking when they're too short and weak to play Queen's arcade machine, or them barking at Noelle when she offers them a dog treat. They're loud and impulsive, shown when they eat the pie at the end of chapter one, repeatedly kicking the robot in the basement when nothing happens originally before the Sneo fight, eating all of the chocolate Undyne gives them to give to Alphys if you interact with the box, and screaming that they're normal if you call Toriel after watching her conversation with Alphys at the start of chapter two. Speaking of which...

Kris seems to have identity issues. This is one of the things here that everyone in the fandom is kind of already aware of, but this is a full character analysis, so it's still important to mention. Kris is the only human in Hometown, but desperately wants to be perceived as normal. They scream it at Toriel like I mentioned earlier, they wore a headband with red horns on it when they were little to look more like a boss monster, and they seem actively disgusting or even frightened by other humans. They also seem to be living in their brother's shadow a bit, which may be why they like drawing attention to themself. Everything I've said about their personality seems to be a little on the negative side so far, but everyone in Hometown knows their name, and seems to quite like them, so why is this? Well...

Kris is charming, well-spoken, and funny. They're a prankster known for pulling mean-spirited pranks on people, but even still characters like Noelle look back at those things fondly, and everyone in Hometown seems to like spending time with Kris. Kris' flirting abilities are pretty obvious, and are used to win over loads of Darkners, not to mention their ability to formulate a compelling speech on the spot, as shown during the first Queen battle when toasting to her. They easily win people over, especially if they like a person, I mean, they became best friends with their former bully in a DAY! A DAY!!! People seem to find them just genuinely fun to hang around, probably due to them just being a funny, charming, somewhat balls of the walls kinda person.

Kris is NOT evil or malicious. This is one of the most important points I've wanted to make on this post. I've seen the theory that Kris is evil because they don't actively do anything to prevent Snowgrave from happening tossed around and I'm here to say that that is actually fucking stupid sorry. Normally I HATE being mean about people's theories because, like I said, everyone consumes media differently, but that one is just genuinely terrible. I'd say it's WAY more likely that as Noelle gets strong, out control over Kris becomes stronger. Normally, when we choose an option to make Kris say or do something, they ELABORATE on that, which is confirmed by how characters interact with them. We just can't see them speaking to give the illusion that they're a blank slate, under our full control. But, during Snowgrave, they just say EXACTLY what you tell them to say. If you tell them to say 'We're something else', they just say 'We're something else'. If you tell them to say 'Proceed', they just say 'Proceed'. Sure, you could put this towards them not caring, but after Berdly is frozen and you reunite with Ralsei and Susie, both of them say that Kris looks HURT. And later on, they REFUSE to go and see Noelle in her room. The refuse to THINK about it. They're not happy with what happened. They didn't want to go around freezing people. But the one thing that Really stood out to me, was during the Snowgrave Spamton Neo fight. Near the end, you have the option to call Ralsei and Susie for help, which prompts the flavour text; 'Kris called for Susie and Ralsei... But nobody came'. After that, you have to call Noelle for help to finish the battle, which prompts the dialogue; 'You called for Noelle'. Spamton states that Kris could barely whisper her name. They're trying to stop you from calling for her. Those aren't their words. I think that kind of confirms that they didn't want Snowgrave to happen. Kris is just a funny teenager with identity issues, they're not evil. Sorry evil Kris fans.

Kris probably isn't the Roaring Knight. They're A knight, but not THE knight. So far, they don't REALLY have any motivation for opening the first two fountains that I'm aware of, and I doubt they knew they could open a fountain until Queen's speech at the end of Chapter 2. At the end of Chapter 2, however, they do seem to have a motivation to open a fountain. They (presumably) slash Toriel's tyres to stop her from leaving the house to go and get flour. They want her to see the Dark World. And if you choose the option to talk to Undyne about the Dark World, Kris explains it to her in FULL DETAIL, but she brushes it off as a joke. Toriel finding her tyres slashed leads her to call the guards, and Kris leaves the door of the house wide open. They want Undyne to see the Dark World, I don't know WHY, but they do for some reason. But I REALLY doubt they're the Roaring Knight, they just don't have the motivation, and if it is them, it would be really weird for Toby to reveal that so early. I really doubt that kid wants to bring on the end of the world.

That's all I have for now!! Expect a more fleshed out version of this next time I play Deltarune with screenshots and such, though I may wait until chapter 3 and 4 come out! Thanks for reading!

[crownmemes]

Ill & Injured Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences for muses that don't feel so great, and for muses trying to take care of another. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"How bad can it be?"

"Getting stabbed is very demotivating."

"Sorry to miss our meeting, but I was a little busy getting shot."

"I think you're suffering from post-traumatic stress."

"I believe I've got a bullet in my arm."

"Listen, you're making terrible decisions right now because you're not thinking clearly!"

"You were about to make a medical comment?"

"Whatever is causing this, I think it needs immediate attention."

"Hang in there. I'm not going to let you die."

"All things considered, being shot is not as bad as I always thought it might be."

"I have no desire to damage my brain."

"That's going to leave a nasty scar."

"I don't think you ever get over something like that. It becomes a part of who you are."

"Your hand was shaking. That's not nothing."

"You look like you've paid a visit to the Devil himself."

"You don't look so good."

"I thought for sure you were dead."

"You've stitched yourself up before, I take it?"

"At a time like this, curiously, you begin to think of the things you regret or the things you might miss."

"Do you have any idea what you've been through?"

"How are you coping?"

"Talking doesn't cure anything."

"Where did you get those cuts?"

"Say something reassuring?"

"I'm concerned why you came back to work three months early."

"Why are men such babies when they get sick or injured?"

"I wake up sometimes and I think to myself 'how the hell am I still alive'."

"I've got three separate medical reports that all state you're physically and mentally unfit to work."

"Are you crazy? I just pulled a bullet out of you!"

"I'm taking you to a hospital. No arguments."

"You need to lie down."

"Do you feel strong enough to move out?"

"When I woke up, I was covered in blood."

"Guess what? It seems as though I've been in some sort of accident!"

"The doctor says you have a mild concussion."

"Doing okay? We're almost there."

"I know I'm not well, but I'm alright."

"Is this as bad as it seems?"

"Just so you know, the doctor said that kissing will speedrun my recovery."

"What the hell are you playing at?"

"I am calling an ambulance for you!"

"Here, this should help with the swelling."

"If I could get up, I'd kick your ass."

"No doctor in his right mind is going to sign you out!"

"I am perfectly capable of walking on my own!"

[bonkwosher]

OMGOMGOMG… i saw your dan stevens character x reader post and i’m literally the happiest person alive over how accurate they are 😭😭💖💖 if you don’t mind me requesting (holding back sending so many requests in the future): how would frank/trapper/david react to a partner with stuffed animals/plushies? (as somebody who has a bunch of sanrio ones and kinda gets clowned on by some family members for it 😭) 🥺 + maybe what stuffed animals they’d give to their partner as a gift? THIS ONES SO SPECIFIC BUT 😭💖

A/N: I'm so incredibly glad someone enjoyed my headcanons that much. Also, please send me a million requests it would make me so happy (no pressure). Also Also, I loved reading your reaction through hashtags in your reblog lol

Pairing(s): Travis "Trapper" Beasley x GN!Reader, Adam "Frank" Barnett x GN!Reader (Separate), David Collins x GN!Reader (Separate)

Contains: The boys reacting to the reader having stuffed animals, the boys giving you stuffed animals, sex mentioned with Frank but barely, Frank being a dork, Trapper being a sweetheart, David being a good listener

Frank:

I have a feeling Frank might be a little weirded out, for lack of a better word, at first, especially if there are a lot of them. If you've got a couple he'll be fine with it but if there's a bunch he'll just be a little confused as to why they're important at first. Like this man can't grasp why you have an attachment to them.

As you spend more time together he'll pretty easily get used to them. If they have names he will only refer to them by name, he won't call them stuffed animals, plushies, stuffies, etc. He becomes like the dad that didn't want a pet, then cut to the dad absolutely loving the pet but never admitting it.

Like you two go to sit on the couch together to watch a movie & you left a stuffie on the couch & he fully treats it like a human. Like he nods at the little guy & goes "Gerald," in greeting before scooting the plushie to the side of the couch.

If you store a bunch of them on your bed, he definitely refers to them as "the fellas" regardless of their genders if they have any. Like he'll climb into your bed getting ready to cuddle you & acknowledges them saying, "What's up fellas?" Mainly because it makes you laugh.

He definitely does not like them facing you two when you're having sex or making out. He will turn them to face the wall one by one if he has to.

After finding out that you like plushies so much I think Frank would be the kind of guy to buy you one before he goes on long heists. He did it once & that made you smile so he kept doing it. The first time he brought you a little one, a white cat with yellow spots.

"You know, I'll be on a business trip the next couple days & I thought this one looked like me so I thought it would be a good idea. Now you don't have to miss me or whatever."

You definitely agreed that it looked like him. The little cat had a scowl & everything.

Trapper:

Trapper probably has an old stuffed animal from his childhood that's being held together by many different stitches & still sits on his bed to this day. So when you tell him you have stuffed animals he's not even phased, actually, he shows interest in them.

He wants to know their names, & if they don't have names he wants to name them.

There was a time when you & Trapper had gotten into an argument & he gave you some time to cool down & he stayed in the bedroom. The door was left ajar & you heard some quiet talking. After getting the right angle you manage to catch the man talking to your pile of stuffed animals that lived in the corner of the bed about how sorry he was & how he didn't mean to upset you.

As you watch your hand accidentally knocks the door a little causing it to squeak on its hinges. Trapper immediately turns to you, his face flushing when he realizes you were there. "I'm sorry, your stuffed animals are just really good listeners."

If any of your stuffies get ripped or you find a hole in one you better believe he goes full vet mode. He's had to do stitches before so sewing is nothing. He will play hard into the vet thing to make you laugh, especially if your stuffed animal getting ripped is a big deal for you. He'll whip out a stethoscope, wrap the limb that got ripped in some paw print bandages, etc. He also loves any praise about him being good at his job so please give him some.

I feel like Trapper's stuffie gifts would come with a story. Like the day he took out King Kong's tooth he probably got you a King Kong stuffie & told you all about it. Now next to whatever stuffed animals you have you have all the titans of the world (at least the ones he's worked on) in plushie form.

David:

David, like Frank, will probably have a little bit of a tough time gathering what makes them so special to you but he would probably just straight up ask you. David loves listening to you talk about just about anything, especially when it's something you care about. So when you tell them why they mean so much to you, it only brings him joy.

I imagine before you were even partners & he was heading off to the army (He would not have left if he had the guts to ask you out), you gave him a small stuffed animal to remember you by. As he was getting ready to go & everyone got a little teary-eyed, he swore to you that he would keep that little stuffie until he saw you again. That little guy survived a war & when David returned, you best bet that little guy was alive & well in his backpack. He stays with him in that big ass green backpack to this day.

Whenever you're away on business or don't get home till late, you'll arrive home to see David cuddling one of your stuffies to help him sleep. He claims it has the slightest smell of your perfume/cologne/etc & it reminds him of you.

If the collection grows past space on your bed for all the stuffies, David will build you a shelf for them. You won't even ask him to. He'll just see that you have space in your room for a shelf, you'll off-handedly mention you're running out of space on your bed for the stuffies, then he'll put two & two together & build you that thing. An added bonus, he'll probably be in a tank top or some shirt that shows off his arms on the hot summer day he decides to build it. Maybe even shirtless.

I feel like David wouldn't get you any specific stuffed animals. He would just wait for you to mention the ones you want, literally run across town to get it for you, then run back & it appears in your flock of stuffed animals the next day.

[metatronhateblog]

As you all know by now

Metatron is sus af. And if you haven't noticed, or you live under a rock (no judgement here) I'm here to add some interesting things I have noticed as someone so obsessed with this show I can only see in the colors and outlines of Good Omens at any given moment.

Fair warning, the only theories or analysies I see are sent to me by my sister, or appear on my dash (and I don't follow many Good Omens blogs that theorize.) So if any of this has been stated or pointed out before, apologies. I'm trapped in tunnel vision mixed with an aching brain.

This one's a doozy and a conglomeration of stuff that I have noticed that I'm not sure actually hold any significance so hang in there, it's worth it.

SO. Let's dive in.

First things first, lots of different theories going around, not sure I believe a lot of them but am fully willing to indulge, and admire the effort people put it. I'm not a huge fan of the 'Metatron poisoned Aziraphale theory' but I have a feeling this post might possibly give those girlies a little 'W.' We'll see, I have various points to touch on.

Something fucked is going on with Metatron. For starters it's very uncomfortable to me, and hits very strangely that no one recognizes him (except Crowley.) Which is so strange because we previously see Michael, Uriel, Gabriel, and Saraqael all in a meeting with the Metratron about....oh maybe ten minutes prior, not to mention Muriel and Crowley were there witnessing it also??? Hello? Why does only Crowley recognize this person that this group of people have seen (Saraqael and Muriel only moments before at the same time as Crowley.)

So how come Crowley is the only one who recognized him??? Sus to me. Any thoughts as to why cause I have none....

But then things to me seem to get a little weirder. I enjoy playing with audio, cutting out background audio and emphasizing little things that might sounds strange to me. And I went through checking all of episode 6 for any weirdly placed miracle noises or waving of hands, and I came up with three things (one of them was actually from episode 5 though).

1.) There's a miracle noise after Aziraphale asks Metatron what they'll be doing in heaven and Metatron responds with 'It's something we call the Second Coming.' This one, with a lot of back tracking and examining other scenes, I've come to the conclusion is simply the elevator being summoned, though I do find it strange to hear the noise yet not see that miracle happen.

2.) In episode 5, during The Ball ™️, Maggie walks up to Nina who is sitting in a chair and offers a hand to dance. Aziraphale, my beloved, is watching so happily and excitedly from the side while holding a tray of hors d'oeuvres. Right when Nina grabs Maggie's hand there's a miracle noise. I'm not sure if it's part of the overall thing Aziraphale has cast over the bookshop, or if it's him from the side and we once again don't see it...(which feels weird) but it's there. And if it is because of the overall miracle cast over the shop then why don't we hear that sound every time something happens that is effected by said miracle. Something is weird about that one to me, but that's not Metatron related sorry. (Here's a screenshot from the exact moment if anyone is wanting to go looking for it.)

And 3.) My big one. This noise is...so unsettling to me. The first time I heard it I flinched. I still cannot figure out if it's part of the soundtrack or if it is a separate noise that segues into the soundtrack or not. But this one. So when Metatron originally enters the bookshop there is obviously a commotion and then once he gets everyone to leave, he looks at Aziraphale and tells him he wants to speak with him or have 'a chinwag' (weirdly Earth term if you ask me) and then offers Aziraphale a coffee who then takes it and sips it blah blah blah we all know that part. But then Metatron says something...weirder. He mentions that he's also consumed things before...which...makes something about him feel all the weirder. He then again asks Aziraphale to chat with him. Aziraphale hesitates and looks to Crowley who is lounging behind him who tells him to go ahead because the 'day can't get any weirder.'

Immediately following that is where I am horribly sus. Aziraphale looks at Metatron who gives him this kind smile and ushers him forward, and once Aziraphale can't see them anymore, Metatron turns a glare onto Crowley, who I'm not sure if we see him acknowledge this sudden cold change.

But that's not the sus part. In my opinion the sus part is the audio. THE MOMENT his demeanor changes to glare at Crowley. We get this little....noise that sounds like a deep kinda dark little twinkle of some sort (and holy shit I'm screaming over this noise because upon checking the official soundtrack the noise is not there) that sounds like magic is happening. And it just. I have listened to the dark way the soundtrack picks up and listened to it through over and over searching for any more signs of that out of place noise and I CAN'T FIND IT. So because I care deeply and am not going to make you people go hunting for this one, I have a screen recording of the audio clip. I kinda took the audio of an actual miracle noise first (I was using it as my reference) and then all the audio surrounding that noise and reduced it, but kept that noise kinda emphasized by not touching it at all. (My apologies now because my editing audio isn't the greatest, I'm no professional, and I did get the first notes of the soundtrack starting in there too.)

HOLY SHIT????? HELLO???? What was that dark little sound there??? I don't know if anyone else has pointed it out but if you have you're amazing and I love you.

BUT WHAT THE FUCK???? I'm sitting here trying to figure out what that strange little audio blip is right there because if I'm correct and when Metatron tells Aziraphale 'the Second Coming' followed by the miracle noise I believe to be summoning the elevator???? Then what is that sinister little???? Almost miracle sounding noise there???? My goodness.

That being said, I did check through the audio in other places, trying to listen real close (and if anyone else is good with audio and can actually find it, then please share I wanna know) and I heard no miracle noises during their kiss scene or when Crowley gets in the Bentley and the Nightingale starts playing. (Disclaimer that could just be because of my hearing loss, so if it is there and you can isolate it, I'd love to hear.) I tried, I searched endlessly to try and help you guys with your theories but I found nothing. I will say though, a bell tolls very frequently in the show when something significant happens and there's a bell toll right as our beloved angelic beings pull away from their kiss.

Now that I've pointed out the strange little audio things I personally have noticed, I want to move on to more colloquial audio and less background noises.

I wanna talk more along the lines of this post by @meatballlady (sorry for tagging you I wanted to give you credit where it's due.)

After seeing this post and doing a rewatch of the show, I have been working more at trying not to make assumptions and trying to think of the ways different things can be taken.

Well the Metatron says something that I think maybe we should focus more on the different things if could mean???

This thing is said (i believe during Aziraphale's retelling of what the Metatron said to him) but also right after another one of those moments of misinterpreting the meaning of what someone's being said. This happens after Muriel interprets Crowley's 'Us time' to include them.

The line I'm thinking of here is

"I've been idling back on a number of your...previous exploits, and I've seen that in quite a few of them you've formed a de facto partnership with the Demon Crowley. Now if you wanted to work with him again, that might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend...Crowley...to full angelic status."

Holy shit there's a lot to unpack in that, both for Aziraphale and us. this whole thing could be interpreted multiple ways, I think, and that's why I've included this whole quote rather than just the specific line. It's a lot said in one go with multiple things that are....worded interesting. For a start.

Exploits -

Several different meanings both in the words form as a verb and a noun, and Metatron puts an emphasis on 'previous exploits.' So how is he using the word? Noun meaning bold and daring? Probably not a software tool. What about a verb? 'derive benefit from' is an interesting way to put it. 'Use a situation or person in an unfair or selfish way.' There's plenty of options here. And to say that he is using one specific meaning of the word would be assuming that you know for sure what he's saying. And when it comes down to it, we don't. After all doesn't this season play a lot with the misinterpreting of what someone is saying?

Let's continue.

de facto partnership - is technically an informal arrangement generally for business, formed by two or more parties.

Which is cool, but that's not the emphasized word here. The word Metatron seems to hang on is 'partnership.'

Partnership -

At this point it feels like an almost sterile way to talk about their very clear relationship together. But strange that he hesitates on the word.

The thing I really wanna talk about is

"...restore your friend...Crowley...to full angelic status."

Restore -

Now everyone, Aziraphale included seemed to interpret this as 'reinstate' your friend Crowley. And again it would be very presumptuous to think that it could ONLY mean giving Crowley a position in Heaven next to Aziraphale.

One of those meanings in there says something along the lines of 'to return it to its original condition.' And we all immediately go 'well that would be an angel of course.' But we forget to take the time to realize that...as an angel, Crowley wasn't a demon. He didn't have all the memories and experiences as such. In fact, it feels hinted at throughout this season that Crowley doesn't have all his memory from his time as an angel. And who's to say that if he was restored to angelic status that wouldn't mean wiping him of his memory of his time on Earth? Who's to say that the Metatron isn't implying here that this is another way to make Aziraphale compliant while also keeping him separated from Crowley.

We all know as a team those two will 'raise Earth' for lack of a better term against Heaven and Hell to prevent Armageddon. They are their own side. And I think Metatron knows he has no chance of the Second Coming if those two are still working together.

Who's to say that Metatron wouldn't put limitations or a status quo on the allowances of Crowley returning to Heaven. He can't ensure that Crowley wouldn't cause problems, he can't ensure his trust.

Sorry if all of this has already been said and pointed out, but I personally haven't seen any of it and needed to get it off my chest before I exploded.

[orange-orchard-system]

Heya! I saw your& post on fusion, and I have to admit it was pretty eye-opening? Talk about fusion has always made me nervous, because I deeply associate it with pluralmisia. If you& don't want to deal with some fairly intrusive, kinda shithead questions and a bad take, please ignore/delete this ask- I don't know where else to look for answers, but I know you& probably hear this crap several times a week.

When you say you're 'both' still here, how do you mean? My association with fusion is still very "all parties involved no longer exist in any meaningful way and something new has been created in their place", and even though I would never accuse anyone that bc I know my experience is not universal, that's always kind of in the back of my mind when someone talks about it. And I know you& compared this to the transphobic equivalent, but I can't really wrap my head around the equivalency. I'm trans (and plural), if it helps.

It's alright, I'm fine with elaborating

So, it's not that our past selves have been "destroyed"; the previously separate parties are not "gone in any meaningful way". It's not like cutting up two pieces of paper to make a new craft. Rather, it's like melting down two crayons to make a new one with a combined color. Yeah, the distinct, individual identities of "yellow" and "blue" are gone, but no wax was lost in the creation of this new green crayon.

I think I'm/We're a very clear example of this, since we used to be fragments – the two (maybe three now) of us, back when we were separate, had specific things we could offer the other if we fused. One of us had a strong presence and "will" (idk how to describe it, sorry), but no steady identity, while the other had an identity, but no will beyond that. Now that we've fused, we have both a will and sense of steady identity. What we're looking for in the future is something to tie us together further; someone who can provide more personality to round us out. We feel much more like an actual person now than we did before, and even in internal appearance, we look like a combination of both the fragments we were before.

I am Sanae, I am the nameless fragment, I am both and both are me. They're not gone; we're both here, just as one. We weighed the loss of individual identity against what we stood to gain from fusion, and determined that there were far more pros than cons to the idea. We also considered fusing with another headmate, Mel, but there wouldn't have been as much to gain from merging together, and even if he wouldn't have been "gone", it would have brought us distress to not have him as a separate being we can interact with and depend on, so we decided not to.

I compared anti-fusion views to the transphobic view on transitioning because there are a lot of parallels to us. Our internal body has changed and we're a lot happier now, whereas before, what we lacked made us feel hollow and distressed. It's similar to how HRT can help with gender dysphoria. Moreover, people liken fusion/transition to murder a lot, but no one's dying – we're different now, but no one was sacrificed to make us this way. Someone who is post-transition is no more "dead" than either of us are, but because of this large change in identity, appearance, etc., people like to treat us as if we are. Our past selves are not murdered – not in a trans context, and not in a plural context. We're just different.

It's true that forced fusion usually comes from pluralphobia, whether that's internalized from the plural in question or from others pressuring them into it. But this isn't the same as purposeful fusion done with full consent, desire, and understanding. In these instances, it's much more like if you forced someone to medically transition (which it should be noted actually happens to some people, namely intersex people) – it usually causes distress, if not over who they are and what they look like, then over the loss of autonomy and choice. Forced fusion and forced transition come from a place of wanting to make those that fall outside the norm as close as possible to the norm, no matter what pain this causes the patient/person – this is why such things might be likened to/called death or mutilation, as it is "killing" one's natural selves/body/deviance from the norm through violence. Those who have gone through forced fusion have a right to express their feelings of losing their individual identities as their selves being "killed", even if they're technically still around. But this is very different from transition or fusion done with full understanding of the process, acceptance of possible downsides, and with the expectation of an improved quality of life. We have not gone through any violence to become who we are now. We have autonomy and are exercising it freely by choosing exactly how we will ease our suffering and make our life better. No one was forced into anything.

Unintentional fusion is a wild card in how it effects people, but I don't feel qualified to speak on that. What I will say is that it rubs me the wrong way to call fusion murder in part due to how unintentional fusion can cause distress. You're going to look at someone grieving who they were before and essentially accuse them of manslaughter?

I hope this helps you understand. Also, I think you're overestimating the amount of comments and asks we get, haha! We're not that popular – not on this blog, at least

[sagemoderocklee]

The WiP Folder Game

Got tagged by the wonderful @roarshackle and the amazing @aleksandracoffan (who tagged @puregaalee but i don’t usually post about my wips there so just combining here) for this game.

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

SO. listing every. single. thing in my WiPs folder.... I'm sorry in advance this is just... ridiculously long because I'm terrible at getting things done quickly. Thankfully it's just what's in my WiPs FOLDER and not in the ideas doc, but this shit still kinda wild

Gonna separate these out by WiPs that are posted and WiPs that have yet to see the light of day. Excluding WiPs that have more than one chapter up cause this already over the top, but I will not be including Heartbreak Curses in this despite that being one chapter since that's the forever unfinished HP AU and I don't wanna be talkin bout that (maybe someday I can adapt it into something that isn't HP but for now it is what it is).

This is only Naruto/GaaLee since it's the only fandom I'm active in anymore, so fandom isn't listed.

WiPs under the cut:

Currently Posting (One Chapter Up):

The Allied Nations Saga: Honor Bound

Blood on the Branches

The Cost of Silk

The Eagle's Augury

Fill in the [____]

Koshu

The Passing of Things

We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia

Unposted:

A Cat's Guide to Finding Love

A Day Like Any Other

The Allied Nations Saga: Secret Liaisons

The Allied Nations Saga: Fidelity

The Beautiful Beast of Cāngdì

Driven By You

Final Bow

Home With You

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful

Kenshin

Plucked Peony Petals

Say My Name (working title)

Scarification

Secrets of the Daimyo: Sigilism

To Live a Life Belovéd

Unnamed Horror Story, formerly BotB

Who Wants to Live Forever (not the title)

Non-obligatory tags: I feel like most people I'd tag have probably already been tagged, but just in case @ghoste-catte @ghost-in-the-stalls @urieskooki @shukakumoodboard and anyone else who wants to do it!

[siriuslysatorusimping]

*Excerpt* Built to Break (Gojo Satoru AU)

I'm finally doing it. I'm finally posting some excerpts of the Hot Neighbor/Exes AU. It's gonna be angstier than I had originally intended. But it's not exactly gonna be angst caused by Gojo 🙃

This fucker has been haunting my WIPs for months, and I'm still nowhere near done with it, BUT HERE WE ARE.

Built to Break

They’d gone their separate ways the day after his Master’s graduation. She’d had more schooling to do, and he was on to bigger and better things as well. Long distance never would have worked. Their relationship was never meant to go further than casual, anyway.

He wasn’t the type.

Which was why, when he’d given her an almost guilty smile the day after the ceremony for his second degree, she said what she knew he’d been thinking: “It’s best if we part here, yeah?”

His answering nod had been accompanied by a sweet smile before he’d given her a final, very not sweet kiss.

They had kept in contact for a while after that, though. Texting the occasional update here and there. They’d been friends before they dated, and the plan had always been to shift right back into that friendship eventually.

But it was only natural for them to drift apart when they lived such different lives.

“You look great,” he said now, rubbing the back of his neck.

She snorted, knowing he was lying. She looked like hell after having been up all night.

“Thanks,” she replied drily, watching him grimace. “So do you.”

Now that wasn’t a lie. Still as attractive as he always had been. Maybe more attractive now, actually.

“What makes you think I’m interested in being your last choice?” Rinko asked, stepping into the hallway and heading toward her door as she held the phone to her ear. “I’m not surprised you’re still single. Is this always how you ask someone out?”

“So sorry I didn’t buy you flowers and get down on one knee,” Nanami deadpanned. “You know what I meant.”

“That your plus one fell through, and you were hoping-”

Her voice cut off when she rounded the corner, seeing Gojo struggling to open his front door without being able to see the lock around the woman he had pressed against it. His head lifted from her neck upon hearing Rinko’s voice, and they both turned to stare at her as she blinked stupidly before an awkward laugh broke free.

“Shit,” she gasped when the woman yelped and hid her face in Gojo’s chest. Rinko slapped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence the giggles. “Sorry. Please, go about your- business. Don’t mind me-”

“Kurisaki!” Nanami’s voice pulled her attention back to her phone, his tone telling her his eyes were narrowing. “Don’t fucking ignore me.”

He sighed, his eyes narrowing over her shoulder.

“Of all people-”

“Is that Nanamin?” Gojo’s voice asked cheerfully. “I’m hurt that you wouldn’t tell me you’re in town!”

His arm was wrapped loosely around a woman’s waist. One of Jin’s many cousins, if she remembered correctly.

“Because I’m not here for you,” Nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I have enough of a headache-”

“Don’t be like that, Nanamin,” Gojo pouted, his eyes moving to Rinko. “He’s still so mean to me, Rinko-chan.”

“What are you doing here?” Nanami asked. “How do you know-”

“Jin’s my cousin,” the woman beside Gojo interjected, rolling her eyes. “Satoru was kind enough to be my date. Shimura Kaya, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replied. “Nanami Kento-”

“The detective,” Kaya said, her eyes lighting up. “I hear you and Jin are a pretty big deal after you caught-”

“Not really,” Nanami cut her off, his eyes shooting to Rinko’s face. “It was just part of the job.”

The scream ripped from her throat, strangled and terrified as she shot straight up, her hands shaking as they went to her stomach.

Blinking into the darkness, she felt the panic still rising in her chest as she looked around her room.

Safe. She was safe.

Taking a deep breath, she threw the blankets away and pushed herself to her feet.

Moving into her living room, she turned the TV on before getting herself a glass of water. Chugging it, she refilled it while she searched her medicine cabinet.

There were sleeping pills somewhere around here.

Her phone ringing made her jump, a quiet yelp falling from her lips as the glass almost slipped from her fingers. Placing it down, she saw Gojo’s name pop up on her phone screen. Silencing it, she continued her search for the sleeping pills, letting out a quiet cry of triumph when she located them.

-

Thoughts on the lil blurbs?? Rinko has some serious PTSD in this one... 👀👀

[universaldreamgirl]

To Whom It May Concern,

I want to preface this by saying that yes, this post is extremely directed but necessary for the concerned reader. I am not writing this to dig up the past, as I know how hard we've worked to move past it. But for me to truly move on from my half of the experience, I need to let all of this out. And when I say my half of the experience, I am not referring to what he did to me, I mean what happened between us. I hope you read this knowing that it is coming from the purest intent, I do not want to further cut your wounds. Ever.

What he did to us was the worst thing that I have ever experienced. Although our abuse was very different, the abuse was still very calculated, and to put it simply, disgustingly vile. Yet what made it worse was that our abuse collided, creating a catastrophe of conflict between us that we ultimately could not shake. And I think that because our abuse collided it made my experience even worse than what it already was. We both tried our hardest to understand each other, our point of views, why we acted how we did. We had open and honest conversations, and although it did not work out between us, I still appreciate those efforts. I learned that because our abuse collided, our healing needed to be separate. I didn't realize that then.

You and I connected. A strong intense bond that unfortunately was built off of trauma. I recently heard somewhere that bonds fostered from trauma do not last, and I think we are proof of that. But that does not mean that we have to stay enemies forever (not assuming you think we are but ?). The reason I did not respond to your text messages was because they broke my heart. My heart sunk reading them, and it never rose back up--it just stayed there. I was heartbroken hearing that in any capacity you thought that I had malicious intentions towards the relationship you had with him. Although we were forced to be enemies by him, I never wanted you to be abused. I never wanted you to be treated the way he treated you. From the very beginning to the very end and even now, I never wanted you to experience what you did. It broke my heart that you may have thought that I did, and it shattered me knowing that I would never, in any lifetime want that for you or intentionally break up your relationship. He was calculated beyond our understanding, and I'm tired of coming up with billions of theories for what he did. But I hope that you understand that I was never willingly a part of his schemes. He pawned me, just as he pawned you. And I'm sorry you went through that. We're both victims at the end of the day.

However you react to this, I hope you understand my message. Whether you read this tomorrow, six months from now, or a year from now, I hope you can understand that I never intended to hurt you. For me to heal, I need to get that across to you. And if you were to read this, laugh at it, or even share it with others, that's your business. But I do hope that you read, process, and hopefully believe this.

I am also not expecting a response from you in any form. That is not necessary. Like I mentioned, our healing processes need to remain separate, therefore direct communication like texting is not necessary. I respect all boundaries you may have. All I would like is for you to read it at some point.

I was recently rewatching TATBILB 2, and Lara Jean had such a mature and honest realization about her relationship with Jen that I personally resonate with. She tells Jen that she was convinced that Peter would never get over her, but in actuality she herself couldn't get over Jen. I had that realization. As I am healing from what I experienced with him, I realized the one thing I could not get over was you. This is what allowed me to separate my experience with him, from my experience with you. Although they were different, they still caused great pain.

Lara Jean then goes onto introduce a Korean word her grandmother taught her: Jung. "It's the connection between two people that cannot be severed. Even when love turns to hate, you will always have tenderness for them in your heart." I think I have Jung with you. After the anger I felt post-mediation dwelled, yes there was still pain, but there was also a bittersweet feeling for you. As cheesy as this sounds, at the end of the day we're just girls. Two girls who are one year a part whose lives were intertwined from an unexpected evil. Two girls who are young, naive, hopeless romantics who at one point fell for the same guy who recked our lives. Yet, we survived. I know nothing about your life currently, but I am sure you are surviving.

After everything we went through together, that tender, bittersweet feeling is there for you because I always knew (although sometimes it was not always clear) that you were not my enemy.

I wish you nothing but healing.

Sincerely,

Toni.

[much-obliged-timothy]

Whumptober #16

Day 16 - The Old Guard - "Don't go where I can't follow"

I'm late posting this but I am once again torturing my favs, enjoy

*

The gunfire was loud, echoing around the building as they fled through the thick smoke. They clutched hands as they ran so they wouldn’t be separated, Nile leading as she was the only one confidant she remembered where an exit was.

Joe felt Nicky violently squeeze his hand as more gunfire went off, likely having been shot. Still, he held on, so he was alive. That was all they could hope for right now. 

He and Nicky had taken up the rear to take any stray or lucky shots to protect Andy. The pain was worth it if it meant keeping Andy safe now that her immortality was gone. 

Her hand was clutching Joe’s other one, a strong, steady grip. He took comfort in that. This mission had gone sideways so damn fast that it’d be a miracle if they all made it out of here.

But then, through the suffocating smoke and blazing heat, Joe felt a sudden gush of fresh, cold air. He sucked it in too fast, coughing hard. Andy yanked on his hand, dragging him out of the burning building into the night.

“The car is this way!” Nile called, the four of them still holding onto each other as she led the way. Joe was grateful for it; his eyes were burning and the tears made it hard to see clearly. 

Nile led them around the side of the building to where they’d hidden their car when they arrived. Something crashed behind them as the building’s foundation finally began to catastrophically fail. Anyone who didn’t get out in the next minute or two would never get out. 

Nile unlocked the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. Andy finally released Joe’s hand to get into the passenger seat, so Joe grabbed the back door and pulled Nicky in next to him.

Nile gunned it out of there, tires squealing loudly. They were jerked back against their seats as they tore away from the doomed building.

“That was a shitshow,” Nile said once the burning building was a fair distance away in the rearview mirror.

Joe found himself laughing, just a little first. But then the relief that they’d made it out caused his laughter to grow, and soon, Nile and Andy joined in, and their laughter filled the car.

Nicky’s cough cut through the laughter like a knife.

Joe’s whole body tensed, because he’d heard Nicky cough up blood before. But it had been long enough; he should’ve healed from any injuries. 

His eyes shot to Nicky, who had pressed a hand to his mouth and hunched over. His shoulders trembled, and he raised his free hand to try to signal he was okay.

“Nicky,” Joe said, putting his hand on Nicky’s back. 

“Fine,” Nicky gasped. He tried to straighten up, only to moan and hunch over again, clutching his stomach. 

Joe gently pulled Nicky’s hands away, his blood going cold. Blood continued to seep through Nicky’s shirt, where a bullet had torn its way through cloth and skin.

“He’s not healing,” Joe said, his voice numb. His own words penetrated his ears, and his voice grew higher-pitched, more frantic. “Andy, he’s not healing!” 

“Pull over,” Andy snapped, even as Nile was already guiding the car onto the shoulder of the road. Andy got out before it was fully parked.

She came around to the back, crawling in next to Nicky and pulling his hands away to look at the wound. She took her jacket off and handed it to Nicky, who bit his lip to hold back a whimper as he used it to put pressure on his wound.

“Did the bullet go out?” she asked.

“No,” Nicky wheezed. 

“He’s not healing,” Joe whispered. “Why isn’t he healing?”

“Joe,” Nicky said, pressing his head into Joe’s shoulder. “Joe, I’m sorry. I healed when the fight started. I’m sorry.”

Joe kissed Nicky’s hair, putting his hand on the back of Nicky’s neck to hold him close. “No, no. Don’t be sorry. We’ll fix this, Nicky. We will.” 

Nicky shook his head weakly, coughing up more blood. “I’m trying, Joe. But it’s…”

“No,” Joe practically begged, lifting Nicky’s head so he could press their foreheads together as tears gathered in his eyes. “No, Nicky. Don’t go where I can’t follow, my love. Please.” He lifted his head to look at Andy, knowing it wasn’t fair to put this pressure on her, but needing this situation to be fixed. “Help him, Andy!”

She was trying, helping Nicky hold the jacket to his wound. She smoothed Nicky’s hair back as he coughed up blood again.

“Joe,” she said, her voice breaking as she shook her head. “Oh, Nicky.”

“You have them. You will not be alone,” Nicky said, grasping at Joe’s hand. “Yusuf, my Yusuf. I am so sorry.” 

Joe just held Nicky close, kissing his head over and over, rubbing his back, trying to offer him any comfort he possibly could. Trying to make sure Nicky felt safe and loved. 

When Nicky grew heavy in his arms, he held him closer, pressing one hand to Nicky’s chest to wait for his heart to beat again, just like it always did. They sat in the car for so long that time ceased to have meaning for Joe. He blocked out the soft cries of Andy and Nile, because if he let them in, he let in reality.

And he would not do that. Nicky would not go somewhere Joe could not follow. He would not leave Joe alone.

Joe held his love in his arms and waited for the world to bring him back where he belonged.

[pokemon-my-beloved]

so i played the dlc

and it was. alright? but while i was playing the teal mask, i was writing my thoughts down so i could make a little mini-review, and then i just. never posted it. so here i am now, with my thoughts from ALL of the dlc, but i have to separate it because i said. So Much. this post has teal mask stuff, i'll reblog with indigo disk thoughts

spoilers under the cut!

are my besties coming with me on this field trip. please please please

blueberry academy is in UNOVA????? holy shit i am IMMEDIATELY more interested and invested in the indigo disk

have my boy there. i am Manifesting him

listen briar i’m sure your intentions are pure and all probably but you can’t go into the great crater of paldea okay i say this as someone who has been there. leave my bestie alone

i don’t think my besties are coming with me :( one sec i gotta go say goodbye to them

okay nemona please try not to burn the academy to the ground, penny sunlight is necessary to your survival please leave your room at some point, mabosstiff please take care of arven while i’m gone

GOD i love these kids okay i’m going

i am. aware of the violet book. why

the paranormal???? oh so she’s a dork

and heath’s descendant alright that’s fine i’m no longer as concerned as I was before

OH MY GOD IS SHE SHOWING ME THE TERAPAGOS PAGE UNCENSORED????

SHE IS

i am…….. wary……. of terapagos, but continue

she wants to find it? bestie

okay so the other people on the trip are randos. three of them. this feels like salt in the wound, just a lil bit

this kid is NOT my “travel buddy” i have exactly ONE buddy and he is in paldea >:(

i’m not going to let that go i am NOT going to get over that

oh it’s my replacement besties or whatever. i’m not going to get as attached to them I’m saying this now because i know it to be true. unless these kids have daddy issues out the ass i will not get attached

okay so carmine is nemona 2 electric boogaloo except i like nemona more

sorry for continuing to play it up i just Love Them So Much

oh so we’re just going to. i was going to say block off the wholeass road but this is scarvi so. guess not

oh so this is just nemona if she was pacifica northwest huh

only one of them was giving me grief but i’m gonna hit yes anyways cause carmine is already getting on my nerves

man this is exactly what i said about arven huh. unless she pulls out a sick dog and daddy issues i’m not impressed and even then i'm not impressed cause like. quit copying homework from two characters who i already like more

mossui town is a very pokeani coded name i think

oh god which of these stupid fucking loser kids am i gonna be working with

nevermind it’s probably gonna be kieran

his hair is really fucking stupid I cannot see his nose at all it grates on me more the more I look at it. not what i would call good character design

hair’s not quite as egregious on carmine but still kind of a problem

WOAHHHHHH THE NURSE JOY RESDESIGN POG

this is literally jessie. like it’s just jessie i can’t fucking be convinced otherwise

i mean. define cool? but yeah sure this kid’s growing on me it’s cool

ohhhhh cool as in 3v1 cool. yeah alright that is cool

KIERAN NO WHY DID YOU SAY THE S-WORD

HOW DID YOU EVOLVE YOUR POKEMON SO FAST

probably because they were already like level 58 or whatever

okay so we are GUARANTEED going to get trapped in here or whatever since ogerpon was outside but i’m sure i can bust us out so i’m not really worried tbh

“you’re a sweet kid kieran” vs “wHEN CAN I MOVE IN” GHALKSJGKLASJGLKAJSG

yeah okay i’ll go to the festival of masks sure seems fun

ugh YOU

fuckin. i don’t get a mask i guess. absolutely fantastic (sarcastic)

yeah sure i’ll battle whatever

“stop using supereffective moves” she says, like that will stop me

oh is poltchageist/sistcha a divergent evolution of the polteageist line? nice!

ogerpon’s stUPID FUCKING PONCHO JAKSJKSJGLKSJG

“say chansey” is cute but i’m unsure why cheese wouldn’t work like cheese is very much in this game

oh, thank you for the candy apple kieran!

what the fuck does OUSTIN mean, game. that is NOT a word, what the fuck

wait. it is. fuck

what if i just. didn’t go after ogerpon AJKLGSJGLK

okay well i can’t leave the festival or do anything else IN the festival so

this bitch is GOING to punch me in the face i guarantee it jvaslkgjlags

apparently everyone just thinks its a kid. wild

oh that’s a cute cute CUTE face

ogerpon’s adorable. alright

I SOMEHOW DON’T THINK IT’S A KID, CARMINE

kieran i would NEVER make fun of you what the fuck

carmine you are SO mean all the time i feel like jet at the end of the sonic riders dub

oh did the loyal three attack and ogerpon defended the village. makes sense for pokemon tbh

“passed down by word of mouth” just write it down, man

OH SHIT THE MASKS HAVE TERASTAL GEMS IN THEM FUCK

i’m sorry kieran i was specifically instructed to lie to you okay listen

i guess i’m not going to the festival of masks tonight? damn okay then

okay yeah this is pretty as fuck but i’ve been to area zero and i did expect it to look like this, carmine

oh! a mitotic! hi! what the fuck!

well that’s convenient huh. i’m not getting in the fucking pool, i guess

oh briar hi! are these terastal crystals? cause i’m pretty sure they are

water? eh close enough

oh he’s gonna summon the loyal three isn’t he. that’s probably not good

kieran in our defense we were specifically instructed to not tell you this like did you miss that part i know you were eavesdropping

if nothing else it seems like he’s gaining some self confidence from all this it seems like

oh they were stuck in the monument? that’s… a bit weird, but i’m sure it’s fine

sure wish someone who could understand pokemon was here (hint hint) THAT SURE WOULD BE HELPFUL HUH (HINT HINT)

sorry i just. i Miss him

guess i’ve gotta fight the loyal three now. bet

ooh triple battle?

nevermind. this blows

you’re trying to recreate the crater crew and it isn’t working i’m not as attached to these two

oh i just noticed that the flying taxi has noctowls instead of squakabilly in kitakami that’s cool!

ogerpon was running in lil circles around me while i wrote that this bitch cute as hell

sorry for having protagonist syndrome kieran

HE GOT SO BIG

oh god HE ATE THE HERBA MYSTICA NOOOOOO adhsfjhfsfh

ogerpon cheering us on is adorable, oh my god

oh did kieran tell the village the truth i’m pretty sure he did

yup he did

i think this battle with kieran is the last of the story

oh damn he just COLLAPSED

okay do i battle ogerpon or does he just get in a ball

battle it is ig!

oh its poncho changes with its mask thats cool!

OH FUCK HE TERASTILLIZES WITH HIS MASKS JUST AUTOMATICALLY

“memories of adventuring with you grant ogerpon strength” THAT’S CUTE AS HELL WHAT THE FUCK

“memories of a partner from long long ago grant ogerpon strength” HEY WHAT THE FUCK OW

OH SHE’S A GIRL SHIT SORRY OGERPON DIDN’T MEAN TO MISGENDER YOU

her name WAS gonna be kieran but change of plans this is majora now

majora might be a guy actually i do not have a clue. i’m sure it’s fine

again. sorry for having protagonist syndrome kieran but i can’t do shit about it

carmine my home is in another country i understand what you’re going for but i live in paldea

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING IN THE GREAT CRATER. I’M GOING HOME FUCK ALL OF YOU

kieran what the FUCK is happening bud

oh god he’s pulling a paulo from pokemas isn’t he goddammit

did terapagos get to him. is he gonna get professor turo’d

guess that’s it! i’ll be back for this shit when the indigo disk drops ig

[sometimesiammybpd]

have you ever lost friends that you tried so hard to keep? it's not a fun feeling. and what's worse is consistently getting the blame placed onto you. it's like an endless cycle to me because what brings me down above all else isn't losing people so much as it's the feeling that no one believes i can actually change who i am and how i act, despite me spending so much of my life (to this point) doing exactly that. the point i've tried making for years isn't that i want anyone to feel sorry for me. i just want to stop being treated like it's an impossibility for me or something. like as if the only thing i'm worth is destroying what little people have. and what's funny is at the same time, i feel like i have no place to be saying any of this. it's a struggle that i have never won and as much as i hate having to accept this, it's pretty much most of what makes me . . . well, me. anyways (there is a reason for me bringing all that up, it just comes a bit later). i'm tired of fighting. that's kind of where i've been at for the last couple years because everything is a fight even if it shouldn't be. and it fucking sucks. for the sake of this post, i am going to be referring to three people. we'll call them sarah, nick, and will. and before anything else, i do not want to write every single post about someone i can't get over or something from my past. i swear. the issue for me is that even the littlest of things are so difficult for me to get over and big things are impossible. but i'll explain that more as we go on.

i met nick first of the three. when my parents got divorced, my mom moved into an apartment complex in the next town over. as i started to live with her more, i met nick as he lived only two doors down from me. he was chill from the beginning. he's a giant computer and car fanatic (especially cars) and while we probably shouldn't have worked as friends, we did. we were best friends for a whole decade before everything really went to shit. he was there for all of it. the one person i relied on during the community and trying to finally change and all of it was him. nick. i always used to think that i've only really fucked up when he couldn't take it anymore and stopped talking to me, but in hindsight it's the opposite. it was a problem that he stuck around for as long as he did and never once called me out on what i was doing and what was going on. at least until sarah came into the picture. i don't know how the two of them met, but i met sarah through him. and i did not like her from the start . . . which means i need to make something clear because i know how that will sound with what i'm going to say in a moment.

all three of us were friends two - three separate times (me vs them in terms of how it would end). and the first time me and sarah became friends, i bullied her relentlessly. there's no way to sugar coat it and i don't want to either. i don't try to excuse it because sarah didn't do anything to me. i was just the person that saw someone happy and decided it was my obligation to ruin that because i wasn't. it made me a piece of shit to deal with and the unfortunate part is that sarah stayed around and dealt with more than she ever deserved to. it's not worth really dwelling on specifics because i did spend a lot of time working on myself after this. cause sarah and nick both cut me off after i graduated high school. sarah because she was tired of how i was treating her and nick because of how i was treating sarah. it was rough. i deserved to lose them both cause it was the cycle of them trying to get me to understand i was doing stuff wrong and me not changing even though i swore this time i would. the one thing i want to add here is i was trying. i cannot take back or change the fact that to them, it did not come off that way because at the end of the day, it still led to the same result of me being unnecessarily mean to sarah for ???. but i was seriously trying as early as fifteen. i hate that it took me so fucking long. i really really do.

but point being, i lost them both at once. it was actually more than just those two at the time because i remember that week very well. it was like six to eight friends in total, give or take. and i will admit, i was so set in my thought processes and ways at that point that when i lost them both, i tried my hardest to find any reason to blame them. it had to be their fault because i couldn't admit i did anything wrong. even though in therapy i had asked her so many times why i couldn't stop being so mean to sarah because even i didn't get it, but i wasn't ready to have that conversation. it was a long couple years after that before we even spoke again and i still don't blame them. the first time was all me.

before i can get into like us finally talking again, i have to bring up will. will was someone i met going into my sophomore year of high school . . . i think(?). he was an eighth grader going into freshman year and we met because of us having a shared bus route (we became proper friends sophomore year but met at the tail end of my freshman year) and honestly, the fact we ever were considered friends is surprising. i was a bully to him as much as i was sarah and a few other friends i don't wanna bring up. and yeah, it's not fun reliving this but i also know that i did damage to these people that i'll never be able to undo so i don't really get much of a say (i mean this genuinely, it feels like it isn't but i swear i do). anyways, will and i initially bonded over geometry dash. it was fun at times. we were going to make collab levels and we'd share our current level bests and all kinds of stuff. and like sarah and nick, he eventually cut me off two years later because he couldn't take it anymore. sorry if this feels like a fast play-by-play or whatever. i just . . . there's only so much i can say when it's the same thing over and over. i don't want to share the details because god forbid they find this post and know who i'm talking about, i don't want it to be like as if i got some sick pleasure out of sharing this especially the details (which is why i'm not sharing any of that because it's not worth it). sorry. i get really paranoid talking about things like this.

the next two years for me was all about therapy and trying to understand myself more. i couldn't stop doing what i was doing until i could understand why i was doing it and yeah, it made it incredibly frustrating but it meant that it'd stick (which it did). this was also when nathan entered my life and with everyone else getting less and less able to tolerate me, you can imagine how much i leaned on him more and more. he did the same. i hate that we were both very toxic for each other, but. yeah. i spent a lot of that time trying to break two specific habits. the cryptic posts i made on instagram all the time where i'd basically write a post ALMOST speaking my mind. except i'd leave out just enough that the person would know i'm talking about them but i never directly said it sooooooo... (please don't do this to anyone). the other habit was just the toxicity in general. i just wanted to be less fucking hateful towards everyone. and i did break both habits after a while. and i was so proud of myself when i did because to me, i genuinely was not doing it for me. i just didn't want to hurt anyone ever again OR lose the people closest to me. that really was all that mattered. this was also the point in time when i learned i had adhd (and then later bpd). i refused to let myself get in contact with any of them until i felt like i had actually made progress. and by the time i got there, i understood that they had no obligation to talk to me and i had no right to expect it.

i believe i started with sarah and nick since nick especially was my best friend for 10+ years. i also just really wanted to make it up to sarah because of the endless years of bullying i put on her for no reason. when i messaged the both of them, i did make it clear that i expected them to want to nothing to do with me and that i wasn't here to force it or whatever. i also apologized for everything. it was some of the hardest shit i had to do but it was important and i'm still glad i did. and i got lucky. i got extremely fucking lucky because they both said okay to giving me one more chance. (it was NOT a second chance because they both gave me more than two the first time.) and to be honest, while i was so grateful for the chance, i knew they both wouldn't believe me for a while. after all, the whole "i swear i've finally put the work in and changed" line had come out of my mouth more than once before. and that's kind of where it stood for a long time. i had to spend a lot of time trying to rebuild what little was left from my destruction and i knew full well that at any point, they had the right to cut me off and call it there.

...and surprisingly, it went well. for a while anyways. i made amends with the both of them and while it wasn't the same, it was better. that's honestly where i wish it had ended but it didn't. but before i get into that i want to mention that it went the same for will. sarah actually was the reason why he gave me another chance because sarah actually told him that i had made progress and i wasn't that person. that was also the only time i actually ever believed sarah meant that.

aaaaaand now it's time we talk about the relationships that sarah and nick had with each other and the one will had with someone else. because those are the main reason why we don't talk anymore. before anything gets said though, i need to make something clear. i'll say it again later but this is not supposed to be a hate post against them or their relationship. as well as that, everything i remember about them might not be true anymore. the only point of me sharing this is that it's something i had to deal with that i am trying so desperately to move on from. that's the only reason i'm writing this. i have my issues with them and they damn well have the same with me, but i don't want to do anything to piss them off (at least in the sense of doing it to be petty and vindictive).

sarah and nick's relationship was fucked from the start. and i did take notice but i also didn't say anything i was thinking because it wasn't my place. that honestly was the first time i didn't put myself where i didn't belong, but it was also the only time for a while (more on that in a bit). for full context: sarah was 15 when nick was 17 and when nick started to well . . . pressure her into dating. it started with him making his feelings very much known from the beginning which only brought more problems into the equation. she said no from the start because she had no interest in him and he acted within the same cycle as me at the time where he'd maybe let it go for a month or two and then full swing it again hoping that this time, she'd say yes. and it made her uncomfortable to a point that she had to say something to him multiple times. and he'd do so much to act like her boyfriend even when she wanted anything else to be true. he'd use her face as his online profile picture. he'd drop anything to do something for OR with her. he was so obsessive from the start and it only got weirder and worse as it went on. and i hated that i really couldn't talk about it. i tried a few times during very specific situations but overall it wasn't something i felt allowed to speak about. like completely /gen.

and when they finally did start dating, she hadn't even turned 16 but he had turned 18, so it made the gap even fucking worse. and what really got to me was that he really couldn't handle the idea that maybe this wasn't meant to be. and it led to a moment that i still could replay in a nightmare like it was yesterday. they both came to the agreement that they wanted to explore more sexual things and in the midst of the first time, her parental figure walked in and caught the both of them. you want to know what this got nick? the over-hanging threat of being potentially arrested (or at the very least getting the cops called on him). this was the first real time i had to step in between the two of them. i didn't even want to, but it makes it kind of difficult when i have nick freaking out to me and sarah giving me every last detail for ??? fuck all i guess??? my advice to nick was simple: leave her alone. move on. because the second her parental figure threatened the cops, serious or not, i knew it shouldn't be pushed. but mr. obsession had a different plan: keep talking to her.

the point of all of this is not to trash their relationship or say they're garbage or whatever. i had to bring most of this up because when it comes back to our friendships (and this started the first time but really became a problem the second time), nick outright ghosted me. he already had a really big issue with that because it was common that he'd disappear for months with no reason why. but once sarah got into the picture (and safe to say got broken down enough to actually date him), it was worse. i liked them together overall because i was supportive of my friends and on the surface, it was an almost-perfect relationship . . . on the surface anyways. because the second time around, i started to actually hate sarah. not bully hate where i was unnecessarily toxic and mean and all that. like, actual hate. and i didn't take it out on her. i wasn't going to do that again regardless of how i felt. i started to hate her because of how she treated nick and my friends / me in general.

when it came to nick, she was controlling. before she had her license she was infinitely worse but as far as i saw, it never stopped even after. everything she wanted to do, he had to be there. he was her personal chauffeur for years while she'd belittle him and trash him and manipulate him to his fucking face. one clear example was her saying unfiltered that "she doesn't like my car and is refusing to let me take her anywhere as long as i drive my car." that kind of shit made me so angry. what kind of ungrateful motherfucker takes advantage of their bf like that just to then tear down the one real thing he prides over. and when it came to everything else, she wasn't any better. if you put it into honest terms, she did everything she could to make him her bitch. like i wish i was overexaggerating. and it really upset me because for all the times i hated his guts, he was my best friend. but i couldn't say anything because she also overreacted so much that if you dared say a word, if she didn't say anything nick would.

when it came to everyone else, she just really never cared about anyone but herself. one of her best jokes was telling others to kill themselves and THEN take offense when you call her out on it. i should know as she did it to me when i was on the edge of suicide and i almost did it that night haha. anyways. as i did my best to change my behavior, it honestly made me realize how much of what i once did to her and my friends, she was doing to others. and being honest, i blame myself. i do wonder what would have been the outcome if i hadn't been the way i was to her. because yeah, i hate her. but she was one of my closest friends for years and at the end of the day, i wanted to help her after trying to get help for myself. her parents did NOT make that easy. not only did they hate me talking to her, they didn't really believe in the idea that therapy could help or do anything at all. so the idea of it was off the table before you had the chance to put it anywhere near the table.

i felt bad and wanted to help but it made it so fucking hard when after all the work i did specifically for them of all people because i wanted to be better BECAUSE of how i treated them, they refused to ever even accept the notion i had changed. a couple months in, maybe a year, i get it. but i never got that chance. and on one hand, i see why and even if i don't understand it's fine. but on the other hand, i started to realize it was becoming more and more difficult to keep growing and changing and learning from my past to better my future when i was surrounding myself with people who could ONLY see myself as the 18 year old who seemed to take pleasure in making others suffer (i'm around 21 by this point). and i wasn't. i hoped i wasn't. and every time i talked to them, i felt like i was. i felt like nothing had changed and i tried to explain myself but they didn't really seem to want to listen.

the final straw for me was when my friend (whom bore the blunt end of most of my panic-induced conversations where i was starting to believe i hadn't changed and i was even worse for convincing myself i had for years) got into it with sarah which led them to not talk to each other for a bit. except that sarah was trashing them in my dms. trashing my fucking friend to me behind their back. i told sarah multiple times to talk to them and i kept getting the "no it's fine" excuse. that led me to go to my friend myself because i wasn't going to sit there and let that go on and of course, they were beyond pissed. wouldn't you be? they eventually made up but in my mind, it was over. i didn't want to be around them anymore. so i wrote this long message (two actually, one for each) where i laid everything out. i wasn't aggressive or angry because i didn't feel that way AND i wanted to make sure it didn't come off that way. i just put it out there because i couldn't it anymore. them treating me like that and expecting me to somehow still change, the way sarah treated my friends and nick, the fact that nick basically stopped being my friend for sarah, sarah's controlling behavior and her toxicity, all of it. because it's never went well for me in the past when it gets to a moment like this. i knew that there'd be no chance in hell that we'd ever try being friends again and i was okay with that. i just wanted them gone because it was better for me and i still would choose my current friends over them in a heartbeat. and i want to make it clear too, it wasn't an easy decision. i know i kind of made it sound like it, but it wasn't. it took me a week to send it because i was ending a decade-long friendship for good. he was my rock for longer than i could count (not really) and i wasn't ready to say goodbye, even if i knew it was for the best.

and so i sent it to them. i immediately blocked because i knew they weren't going to respond well. i wasn't being anything but assertive of myself but i was the one that was trying to change. they weren't. and i promise that's not me saying that to attack them. it just became something i came to realize and hated myself for a while for doing so. but, yeah. and it should have ended there. but i happened to forget one account and they sent a response basically just attacking me on all fronts.

they called me manipulative and accused me of just straight up hating their relationship. i got told that it was my fault if i started to feel like i was regressing, change wise. they (like always) accused me of just not taking accountability because god forbid someone else be wrong. it was just so much hate and in the moment, i felt so much rage that i wrote an incredibly hate-filled response. like pages of just anger and fuck yous and all that shit. it really sent me into a bad episode and i still have that message . . . but i never sent it. and i never plan on doing so. because i knew that's what would happen. i knew it'd end in a firefight because it's who they are. it's who i was for a long long time and it was a rude awakening when i realized they still were even if i wasn't.

i don't hate them anymore even if it feels like it so much of the time. but i am just tired of thinking about them all the time. like as if something could have been different even though i had to accept their friendship was only detrimental to me. it's just not fucking fun. and don't worry about will, by the way. i might write about him later. i don't know. i don't really care anymore lmao. sorry. all this shit really dragged me down because this was so much of my life that i had to give up and not really by choice. yeah.