#the next day(s) of misery are my own fault and i accept it

[spacejammie-eimmajecaps]

Good news: I finished the first draft of chapter 38 today

Bad news: it goes about how you'd expect things to go after chapter 37

[madoheart]

@sweethearts-biggest-fan responding to this after forgetting about it for the day oops, making this its own post just because. Enjoy my BFL (Big Fucking List) of things i like to imagine

-First off, I think her ego is EXTREMELY fragile, it's been built up so much by her mindless fans mixed in with the fact that no one outside of the sprout moles (and Pessi) ever talk to her or care about any of the stuff she does

-She's INCREDIBLY lonely because of this, spending most of her days not talking to anyone, she got tired of talking to her subjects because of how they're basically all the same. They see her as above them so she does too, leaving her (in her pov) stuck alone with absolutely no one else

-She knows very well her life isn't as perfect as she wants it to be, she just tries really hard to block that thought out, having to remind herself and build herself up that there's THOUSANDS who'd support her and would be willing to marry her in an instant, everyone else is just jealous, clearly, they're ignoring her on purpose, they're just ACTING like they don't care to make her mad, but she isn't mad! her life's perfect, SHE's perfect, it's everyone else's fault that she has any sort of problems

-I think at the end of her fight when she's yelling about how she can't accept her loss and how she just wants to be left alone is her basically on the verge of breaking down and having to realize both her and her life aren't anywhere near as perfect as she wants them to be. Spaceboy crashing in literally saves her from having to realize her problems, of course, her perfect prince had come to save her from these ROACHES that would dare to ruin her wedding! there was absolutely nothing else happening before!

-Enough with the misery, since we never never get to see Sweetheart really be happy I want to talk about that. I think past her fake positivity is a lot of real, genuine love she has for her friends (if she had any). She's always cheery to see them and runs up to them immediately if she sees them, yelling their name to grab their attention

-Sweetheart holds her friends as highly (or even higher than) as she holds herself, the perfect princess requires the perfect friends, of course!

-If she sees her friends are down she will spend forever trying to cheer them up. Her friends being upset is just as bad as her being upset, and she absolutely can't have that

-Extremely physical when showing affection, even if you're just friends. A lot of hugging, pulling, hand holding, possibly even kissing, anything she can do to show that she loves you

-Very blunt and vocal if she wants to be left alone, even attention hogs need their alone time. Will not hesitate to tell people that she just needs to be left alone and tend to herself for a bit

-Vice versa for the above thing, if you tell her you want to be left alone she'll listen, just be extremely petty and fussy that you don't want to hang out with her. You'd have to approach her next time you want to hang out, and she's 100% going to bring up that you didn't want to hang out before in her own sassy, petty way

-Very open with affection, but despite this, HATES being caught off guard with it. Surprising her with something or by doing something nice is of course appreciated, but also an invitation for a challenge. You DARE think you can catch the wonderful Sweetheart off guard? Ohoho! Big mistake! She's already preparing to surprise you in a MUCH better way than you did with something WAY better! You'll just HAVE to talk how nice and caring she is once she does, have fun hearing her gloat about how good of a friend she is for an hour afterwards

-As painfully positive she is, she cannot STAND being around people acting pathetic, it's an absolute mood killer and she will be very vocally upset about you killing her mood before storming off.

-Some of the stuff in her castle like the laser topiaries, and the giant statue, were made by Molly, that's how Sweetheart knew exactly where to go when she decided she'd have her perfect suitor made herself, it's also why her conversation with Molly is the most casual out of the slime girls, they have business history

-The keeper of the castle basically says that Humphrey is Sweethearts new forever, but I really don't see that as a bad thing, I think after being with those moles for so long, having people she can really talk to would do good for her, possibly let her let out her less obnoxious side

-It would take a long time for her to let go of the ego she spent so long building up, but I think once she does she'd be a genuinely positive and joyful person

-I think she'd be able to accept all the terrible things she's done in the past, that isn't her anymore, she's better now

-Speaking of the past I don't think she's 100% at fault for the falling out of her past 2 relationships. Rococo and Spaceboy are just... really pathetic, she'd get sick of them eventually, she doesn't have the emotional stability to handle them in a proper way

-I ESPECIALLY think her and Spaceboy don't fit at all, Spaceboy looks to be really clingy and like a big pushover, He gets so depressed when he's away from Sweetheart it's EXTREMELY pathetic from her POV, she can't even look at it in a "oh wow you're OBSESSED with me" way after it keeps happening, its just really embarrassing

-I think the Space Pirates REALLY hate her, and I can't blame them, from their pov she ended their missions and ruined her captain, I think Spaceboy just never had someone to be this pathetic for over, so they never saw that side of them

-Spaceboy also has quite the violent mood swings, extremely infuriating for someone trying to have her peaceful and perfect life. How can she have her perfect life if her perfect boyfriend is so hard to deal with both when they are and aren't together

-She can be extremely intimidating if she wants to, she has a history of dealing with troublesome individuals (example: Spaceboys violent tendencies), and can snap him back to being calm ol' Spaceboy just by glaring at him hard enough. I think she could intimidate Perfectheart if she were fed up enough

-I 100% think she's aroace, loves showing affection but doesn't want to keep it to just one person, also doesn't want to be with one person for ever, Sweetheart is for sharing!

-Stuff like the body pillow is her just absolutely loving herself, showing off how beautiful she is to the world, she absolutely adores herself. Doesn't like sex otherwise, waste of time and energy, also kind of gross

-Despite those previous things I think she likes girls a lot more than boys, and being stuck in a whale with 6 other girls is bringing up many complicated and confusing emotions

-Semi-related to the previous one, she hates having to adapt to new things, very stuck in her ways and gets really whiny if she has to deal with something new

-Her favorite clone is Mutantheart, and she's really bad at hiding it

-Perfectheart is the main person she talks to in Humphrey, they eventually become really close friends

These next few are about the clones

-Perfectheart can understand Roboheart, they're very close because of this

-Both Perfect and Mutant are also aroace, Roboheart however is lesbian since she was programmed to love

-Roboheart is just as affectionate as Sweetheart, it just hurts when she hugs due to her being metal

-Perfectheart is just the slightest bit jealous that Sweetheart adores Mutantheart more than she adores her, shes perfect though so it totally doesn't get to her

-Mutantheart has paws for both her hands and feet, with heart shaped paw pads

-A few days into Sweetheart working for the Slimegirls, Perfectheart begins to see she's really more pathetic than she lets show, and takes pity on her and tries to be nicer, despite Sweethearts attitude.

yknow i didnt think id spend an hour and a half writing Sweetheart hcs tonight but here you go, im definitely gonna have more in the future. Feel free to ask or point stuff out about them, im always up to talk about Sweetheart. some of these might be worded wrong due to how late it is

[thenextchapter22]

Stuffies

PART 3! Sick Cuddles!

Description: You are in sick and need of lot of hugs and cuddles!

or….adventures and cute stories with a reader/MC who carries stuffed animals around all over Devildom.

Pairing(s): NONE!

Word Count: 2,436

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Author’s Notes:  So sorry for the long wait, I am super happy to be writing again! Enjoy the fluff~

Part One Part Two

_+_

This was the worst ever. You would think the common cold had no place in the Devildom but how wrong you were.

You coughed into your forearm and groaned. “Whyyy me,” you moaned.

Lucifer sighed. “Because you decided to go on a midnight stroll with Mammon. With no coat, might I add.”

You glared halfheartedly at him, but he glared ten times stronger back. He was too powerful. You sniffled and melted back into your bed, laying against a stack of stuffed animals and fluffed up pillows. Everything was sore, and you were freezing. So cold that even the multitude of fluffiness around you did nothing.

The Avatar of Pride hovered over you, his arms crossed and stern looking. “Just rest for now. I have Solomon preparing some medicine that you’ll be able to take.”

You stiffened. “So-solomon…?”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. While his food is terribly inedible, he is one of the best potion makers we have around. I trust him in this.”

“You won’t let me die, will you Luci?” you said, then sneezed violently. So bad your entire head shook.

He made a disgusted face, but afterward he nodded at your question. “I won’t let you die.”

You reached a hand out, clenching and unclenching it, and whispered, “Come here.”

Lucifer looked a little scared at first, because Lucifer did not seem to like anything to do with colds at all, but he did lean down, probably feeling bad for you. So you took your chance and grabbed his oversized sleeve and tugged. He wasn’t ready for that and stumbled into your bed, and you held on to him like he was a giant stuffie. You hummed at his warmth.

“What are you doing!?” he shouted, struggling immediately. He was clearly not trying to hurt you but also trying to get out of your clutches. He pulled back far enough to be able to look at your sickly expression and furrowed his brows.

You shushed him, “My head hurts, I’m cold, just snuggle me for a bit… please?” Being sick was awful, and all you wanted was a hug. Couldn’t he allow you that much?

Lucifer was the only brother you hadn’t gotten a pact from yet, so you couldn’t exactly force him (not like anyone else would reject your hugs, especially Belphie or Asmo).

Lucifer was stiff and looking out of place in his full outfit while you were in pajamas and a haphazard blanket thrown over you. Still, soon enough he sighed for the umpteenth time as he looked at your face, which you hoped showed the misery you were feeling. “I will allow you ten minutes. That is all I will allow, understand?”

That was plenty enough time, you would no doubt fall asleep by then. He hummed. His hand came to rest on your lower back a moment later. Then he scooted backwards until he was sitting partially up on the bed, and you lay in his lap instead.

You smiled and pulled your blanket over yourself more and pressed your face into his chest, feeling his body heat start to overcome your own coldness. “Thank you.”

“Rest now. Your medicine will be here soon.”

You fell asleep to his soft touches on your head and back, warm and comforted.

_+_

“Noooo…” you cried. You clutched to your chest Po and avoided the spoonful of medicine being pushed at you. “It stiiiinks…”

Solomon sighed. Luke laughed. They both came by to check on you, and Solomon to drop off the potion. It wasn’t going so well for you at all. But, Luke was like an cuddle bug and because he was an Angel this sickness couldn’t get to him so you could snuggle him, too. He currently lay beside you, giggling.

“You have to drink it, or you won’t get any better,” Solomon said. He tried to push the spoon at you again, but you pursed your lips together and moved your head.

“I can just sleep it off, please don’t make me,” you sniffled.

Luke pet your arm. “Solomon, isn’t there any other way?”

“No, Luke, she has to drink this. Twice a day. For the next three days.”

You sobbed. “Why meee…”

The door burst open, and in came Beel. His twin was being dragged right behind him. “I heard you were sick. Are you eating?”

Belphie yawned. “I can put you to sleep, too,” he murmured. He took a seat on the other side of the bed, and over took your pillows and stuffies. You let him, he was warm and smelled like chamomile and it was comforting.

The sorcerer in the room sighed from where he stood at your bedside, hovering with a potion bottle in one hand and spoonful of the same substance in the other. He looked frustrated, but that didn’t mean you felt sympathy. You were not taking that stuff. “She just needs to drink this and go to bed. A little help would be great,” he said dryly.

Beel frowned at the potion. “It smells.”

You nodded sadly.

“But if she has to,” Beel continued.

You gasped. “Beel, no!” You were betrayed.

Belphie chuckled. “Here we go.”

What did that mean?

Suddenly, Beel was on the bed on his knees. You were so shocked you gasped, and in that shock he had taken the spoon from Solomon and shoved it between your open lips. You tried to move away before anything could happen, but his hand held the back of your head and his hand was so big and he was so strong you were defeated.

You swallowed, and then cried. Belphie and Luke both hushed you and pet your head and arms, Beel getting off the bed and doing the same.

“That—was—icky!” you cried. Your mouth tasted like sour candy, and you hated sour candy.

Beel shushed you. “You did such a good job,” he said. He put his hand on your forehead, and it was hot. “You need to rest, your fever is high and you need to sleep. Belphie?”

“On it,” the younger twin said.

You were put on your side, Belphie behind you, and Luke took this as his time to move. He frowned at you but let the twins do their job. Still, he handed you Po, who had fallen off the bed, and you thanked him.

Belphie’s voice was in your ear, and you couldn’t recall what he was saying exactly but the intention was clear: go to sleep. And you did, with a terrible taste in your mouth.

_+_

“She looks so pale, poor lovely,” Asmo pouted.

“We should give her something to eat,” Beel said.

“Can she even eat?” Mammon asked.

“Of course she can, dufus,” Satan responded. “She can have broths and tea, and probably some crackers and juice. And of course she needs to rehydrate so lots of water.”

You felt surrounded and like a Zoo animal. You were laying on the common room sofa, having had 2 days of drinking Solomon’s nasty potion and lots of bedrest. Lucifer gave you permission to leave the bedroom as long as you stayed in this one room.

So of course, everyone came to see you. You came in around noon after waking up late, and had been in here quietly for a few hours before they came home from RAD.

“Ah, she looks so cute with her stuffed doggy, though, doesn’t she?”

You whimpered when Asmo said that, and pressed your face into Fido’s belly. He just cooed again. You didn’t know what it was, but right then you just wanted to be left alone and to breathe. You’d been cramped in your room for so long and now you felt cramped again. You felt a tear slip out of your eye, and tried to push yourself further into the couch.

“Enough. She needs to rest still. You all need to stop hovering around her and speaking as if she is not there.”

Lucifer came in the room and Simeon was behind him with a tray. The Angel had come over to check up on you and make sure you were taking your medicine as Solomon was out on an errand for Diavolo as of yesterday.

The brothers mumbled but moved away, wandering around the room.

“Sit up, please,” Simeon asked gently. You did, with some help from him maneuvering your blankets and pillows. He gently wiped at your cheek from the little tear drops that fell, and gave you a soft smile. “Here you go, darling,” he said, setting down over your lap a tray with warm soup and water. There was also a cup of steaming tea that smelled of honey.

“This is the last one and you have to take it.” Lucifer handed a potion bottle to Simeon along with a spoon, the Angel having taken a knee beside you. “She won’t do it herself, so you must force it on her.”

You glared at Lucifer, and he just raised a brow back but you saw a small smirk on his lips. He was not wrong…

Looking around at the brothers doing little things, Satan pretending to read, Asmo looking at his reflection in his hand held mirror but occasionally looking over at you, Beel and Mammon talking but pausing and glancing over at you and then acting all flustered when they saw you noticing them. It was overwhelming, and you still felt a little embarrassed being sick and fussed over like this.

You grabbed Fido and squeezed him for comfort.

Simeon hummed. “They’re just worried, lamb.”

You nodded. “I know, I’m just…”

“Tired? Wanting to be well again?” he guessed.

You nodded again. “Yeah…”

“Poor dear.” He pet your hair from your cheeks, and felt your forehead. “Still a bit warm, but you shouldn’t have a fever as of tomorrow.” He held out the spoonful of terror with an angelic smile. “One more, okay?”

You sniffled. “Okay…” You let him spoon feed you the potion, and you swallowed it with a grimace. He gave you water and you swished it around to which Simeon just laughed. “Ugh.”

Lucifer took the potion back from him. “Drink your tea and eat the soup. What you can’t stomach tell Mammon take away, this is partly his fault after all.” He titled his head at Mammon, who fussed but agreed. “And drink all the water as well, you’re obviously dehydrated.”

“I will, I promise.”

Lucifer gave his nod of acceptance. “Good girl. Simeon, let’s leave her be. She’ll be watched by my brothers for now.”

Simeon bid you a soft goodbye and a get well soon. Then it was time to eat. You struggled a bit, but ate half the soup and drank all the water. The tea was nice and tasted good, felt good on your throat, too.

Beel helped you settled back down while Mammon took the tray away. You thanked Beel for adjusting your blankets and pillows so they were fluffed up. He said, “I do it for Belphie’s bed all the time. Sometimes he forgets, and his neck hurts the next day.”

Satan glanced over at the tray before Mammon took it to set on a table in the corner of the room. “Not bad,” the blonde demon said. He quickly took a spot at the end of the sofa, and put your feet in his lap. “You should have eaten more, but that will do I suppose.”

You giggled when he tickled your ankle. “I’m full, Satan, I can’t eat anymore.”

Asmo half sat at the head of the couch, and he started to play with your hair. “Don’t force her to have any more or she might throw up.”

You tilted your head to let Asmo begin braiding your locks. “Mmm…” It was luring you into sleep, the soft touches on your scalp. Also the full stomach helped with that.

Asmo smiled down at you. “Go to sleep, dear,” he said. “The best medicine is a full 8 hours of beauty sleep~”

“No it isn’t,” Mammon said, leaning over the couch. “The best medicine is laughter.”

“Well, are you going to tell her a joke then?” Satan asked.

They proceeded to argue back and forth, and you yawned. There wasn’t time to ask them to stop, because sleep was coming fast. “Goo’night.”

They stopped arguing, and gave you soft ‘goodnights’ of their own. Even though it was 4 in the afternoon… And you went to sleep just like that.

When you woke up that night, you had been put back into your bed. Beside you lay your favorite trio of stuffies, Louie, Po, and Fido, and on the nightstand was a glass of water. You reached for the water and drank it all.

The clock said it was an hour past midnight. You were sleepy, but not from the sickness. In fact, you felt much better. But you wanted to cuddle someone…

You crept out of you room, after grabbing the smallest stuffie, Louie, to take, and knocked on Levi’s door. He was the one up at this hour a lot just like Lucifer.

“Password?”

You smiled and gave it. He heard your voice and opened the door, and was shocked to see you. “I—are you still sick, are you okay? Do you need anything? Water, or maybe some more tea? Lucifer told me that tea makes your throat feel better when humans are sick—”

“Levi,” you stopped him before he really rambled. You reached for him and hugged him. “Can I sleep in your tub-bed with you?”

He flinched, but then relaxed and hugged you back. “S-sure, c-come on it. I wasn’t going to bed soon because I have a game releasing in an hour but I can still cuddle you?”

You hummed, that sounded nice. “’kay…”

He climbed into his tub first, and then reached for you to lift you up and lay you in with him. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. It took some expert maneuvering but you found a spot right between his shoulder and neck and snuggled in, Louie tucked in your arm. It was soft and warm. He put a fleece blanket over you both and that was even better.

Levi’s hand went up and down your back. “Sleep, little one,” he said, unlike him in the moment. He pet your hair and a soft rumble came from his chest.

The blue light from his fish tanks gave you a strange comfort and it lulled you to sleep along with his caresses. You did hate being sick, but all the cuddles were a big benefit.

[kodzumie-archived]

Hello! I was wondering if I can request Nagito comforting his s/o who’s insecure of their acne scars? Thanks for taking your time to read this :)

❝I LOVE YOU THERE, TOO❞

Synopsis; If his words weren’t enough to clear the fog of misery, he’d find another way to prove to you that his admiration is sincere.

Featuring; Nagito Komaeda x GN! Reader

Warning(s); Established relationship, self-degrading thoughts, low self-esteem, breakdown, and hurt comfort.

Kodzumie’s Note; Absolutely, love! Thank you for your request. I hope you’ve had a wonderful day, and I also hope you know you’re absolutely precious. Take care, my dear! Muah! <3

➤ NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Nagito Komaeda is a devoted lover. He hails you—his lover—for your every action and word, following you to the ends of the Earth as he babbles praise, restlessly.

⤷ He admires you entirely, and values every inch of you. He values your lips as they curl into the smile he oh-so adores; your hands that seem to fit within his like puzzle pieces; your eyes that glimmer as though they were brushed upon with a sheen of stardust, a glow that not even the constellations could rival.

⤷ His heart pulsated with a fondness that he harbored only for you. Intricate conveyance of his love for you muddled within his words; his ramblings that seemed to be phrases crammed together along with the conception of hope.

⤷ Though he tried his utmost best to display to you that he thought of you as perfection personified; what you deemed as flaws he had claimed to be his favorite parts (though he truly loved every part of you equally).

⤷ So he finds it hard to believe that someone as faultless as you would doubt themselves. Every sign seems almost overlooked as he begins to notice the subtle inklings of fragility within your gaze; a gaze that was not directed towards him, but to yourself.

⤷ The idea of you being unable to see the grace within yourself was estranged to him. How could you not see your own magnificence?

⤷ But it’s a truth and one that he struggles to accept. Every undeniable sign that you—his beloved constellation of hope—were truly rendered blind to your allure. Unable to perceive the eloquence of yourself; of the one Nagito swore to himself he devoted himself to, wholely.

⤷ His heart encapsulated a lifetime’s worth of admiration for you; a strung sonnet of affection through his riddling of words, amongst his typical rambles. Though it seemed that his words were interpreted as void; a travesty believed to be induced by your denial. If his words couldn’t convince you of what he finds faultless of your self-proclaimed faults, he’d find a conveyance that’ll help you understand.

⤷ Time and time again, he’s professed to you that his heart is sealed amongst your clutches; devoting himself entirely to you, and to—albeit scum like him is unworthy of such—your love.

⤷ Nagito, though a clutter of questionable motivations and stability, is an honest man. His words a sliver lining brushing upon the canvas of truth with the saturation of hope.

⤷ Yet his hopes of portraying his idealizations of your divinity were fragmented upon the nullification of ontological realization; words can only express so much.

⤷ He’s forced to bare this fact as he’s painfully aware of the falter of relief at each attempt of consolation. For every expression of dissatisfaction, he contorts your words into how he views you; an ethereal blessing of hope amongst a personified, societial of rubble. But, after spending so long in denial of your own repudation, he’s come to discover that the shake of your head is equivalent to the brush of his confession. You don’t believe it.

⤷ You don’t believe his relentless confessions of how astounding he views you; how he truly percieves you as a goddess amongst the pitiful bounts of humanity. You don’t believe it. But of course you wouldn’t. It’s difficult to believe something that he utters as though it was rehearsed.

⤷ Nagito is known for his rambles. It’s a common occurence for the male to mutter on and on about the beauty of hope and its paradoxical conquering of despair. He’s known for his excessive rants, and yet, it fuels your doubts about his insincerity all the same.

⤷ And after long last, he’s aware of this; finally knowledgeable of the way your eyes gloss upon his fervent compliments. He assumed it was spurred in accordance to the swelling of your heart, having satisfied you with his rebuttal to your claims: But he couldn’t have been farther from the verity of the sheen of tears.

⤷ You were suffering; caged within the abyss of the subsequential torment you were forced to bare. Every word, every whisper, it’s as though they mauled at your heart; tearing into the delicate chassis with agonizing malice.

⤷ Nagito was painfully aware of the effect of words, or rather lack of. The vocalized confessions a mere spec of dust amongst the gust of genuinity. But there was a beauty in silence; and a tidal of sincere conveyance through action.

⤷ The lingering notion fixated within the back of his mind as he’s seated beside you once more. He feels as though he’s encapsulated within a trace, his mind fogged with a searing remembrance; deja vu.

⤷ You’re glaring at your lap as your hands brush upon your face, doused in vulnerability as you attempt to conceal yourself from his view. He could hear it; the pluck of pitch as you shakily began to spill your innermost worries; your underlying insecurities.

⤷ “I hate them. I hate them so much, they just... they won’t go, no matter what I do.” His heart ached as with each word that pooled from between your lips, you struggled to maintain your composure. Sinking within the seas of wishfulness; yearning for relief from this grief of being unable to accept yourself as you are.

⤷ Yet you perk your head at the silence in response to your venting; a dreadful silence. Why has your boyfriend—a man who seems to never cease fervent rebuttal—not talking?

⤷ And instantaneously, the tendrils of your doubts engulf you. It hurts, it’s tauntingly painful. Has he finally accepted that there’s no use in persuading the veracity? Has he given up on attempting to convince you—and, per your instilled panic, himself—that you aren’t what you see yourself as?

⤷ The silence is thick; a tense atmosphere in which air has condensed into a fog that neutralizes air. Your lungs burn with the suppression of your sobs as you bite your bottom lip.

⤷ They’ve won, they’ve won, they’ve won; the thoughts and beliefs of your self-loathing have won. and you’re unable to breathe through the weight upon your heart. It hurts; it’s suffering you’ve endured for so long and after such desperation, he seemed to have been subdued as we—

⤷ “...ere.” You falter. The final syllables falling upon your ears as they escaped him, yet you hadn’t caught them. Turning to face him with a visage of poorly veiled pain interlaced with confusion, you ask him to repeat himself.

⤷ Yet you weren’t met with the reptition of mere words. Instead, the sensation of his cold hands cradles the sides of your face, ever-so-gently pulling you closer until you were separated by the proximity of a few centimeters; his breath fanning over your face.

⤷ You feel a gentle weight press against your forehead; his lips. He kisses against the skin with such delicate ministations, savoring the contortion of your expression as he pulls away. “I love you there.” He mutters, a gentle smile upon his lips before he moves onto his next destination.

⤷ A kiss to your left cheek. He lingers for a moment before pulling away, exhaling ever-so slowly. “I love you there.” Once again, he confesses. Repeating the same to your right cheek as he utters the words once more, “And I love you there.”

⤷ His lips glide along your skin as he proceeds to peck your chin, tilting your head slightly to provide ease in accessing such. “I also love you there.” He chuckles, swallowing your anticipation before moving on.

⤷ Upon puckering his lips, he pressed a rather firm kiss against the tip of your nose. You’re able to feel the smile on his lips as he cradles you closer, the urge to embrace you admist the heat of sensuality. “And, guess what? I love you there too.”

⤷ Finally, he hovered above your lips, your breaths melting into one as he gazed into your glossed orbs; the quivering of your lips prominent as he envelops your lips within his own, closing the space between the two of you.

⤷ This time, he loiters against you, parting only to return and engulf your gasps, suckling on your bottom lip ever-so gently. He savors every millisecond; every ounce of your taste. And he savors the salty taste that faintly douses his tongue as tears cascade from your fluttering eyes; crying into the kiss.

⤷ His words unable to convey the sincerity of his admirations due to the plague of repetition, and the ringing of his muddled sonnet of devotion; his expressions perplexing and unable to provide you with the consolation you needed; the security you yearned for.

⤷ Thus, as he pulled away with heavy pants, his eyes softening as you begin to sob; relieving yourself of the pent-up inklings of fogged eyes, unable to detect the flickers of light within the shadows of your self-proclaimed faults.

⤷ The lingering sensation of his lips atop where all you couldn’t stand about yourself induced your heart to swell with a sense of joy; a sense of being able to understand the way he sees you one day. His lasting kisses having filled the air with comfort more than verbal consolation ever could as he finally says, “And I love you there, too.”

[averagesmw]

Penny Haywood x MC- A sense of normalcy (2/4)

Game: Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery

____________________

The steam coming from the machine, the crowds of voices becoming the ambiance of the place, even the shadows that passed by now and then

Those elements combined served as a clear indicator as the eyes slowly opened

They had arrived at the station

When Y/N realized this, they moved, only to realize a gentle weight above their head, followed by golden braids following the effects of gravity

Did...did they just cuddled to sleep?

A yawn caught their attention, Beatrice had just woken up from her slumber. While looking around at first, she eventually laid eyes on you

When she did, Beatrice smiled and mouthed "hello" before getting up to pick her things

It was time to continue their journey, and that would have to start with all of them being awake. Gently, Y/N nudged Penny's shoulder, just enough to get a reaction from her

"Wha? Is it time?..."

She muttered in a way reminiscent of that of a child, which of course, brought a smile to Y/N's tired face

"I'm afraid so, Penny. We ought to keep moving"

She whined but eventually moved away from her resting place and stretched while Y/N themselves got up and grabbed their luggage, and since they weren't carrying as much, they also helped with some of Beatrice's

And so, the three youngsters left the train in search of Penny's parents. This station was much more crowded than Hogsmeade's, but it didn't seem to be a problem for the girls as they swiftly moved through the crowds

They kept walking until an adult voice stood out from afar, the resemblance made it clear who they were

"There they are! My little girls!"

"Mum, dad!"

Penny's eyes sparkled upon identifying the source before running towards them and eventually hugging them

"It's so good to see you!" She declared with such relief

"You too, darling!"

Beatrice hugged her parents as well. Considering how much change she had gone through, it was quite a sight to behold

At least until said adults turned their attention to Y/N

"And you must be Y/N. I've heard a lot about you!"

Interestingly enough, Y/N themselves had heard that phrase plenty of times before. One would say they'd grown accustomed to it

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N"

"Likewise, Mr. and Mrs. Haywood. Thank you for bringing me along " They stated smiling while shaking their hand

"It's the least we could do, darling"

Penny's mum stated with a smile, then, her husband grabbed his daughters' luggage and carried it around himself

"Are you ready to continue our journey?"

"Yes! I've never been to the countryside before"

The man smiled at this, watching Y/N's enthusiasm for a trip that never got old

"Then you're in for a treat"

And he was not wrong. Throughout their trip, Y/N got to see first-hand the various placed they had only heard of, even getting to walk amongst Muggles without any problem

But most importantly to them, they got to see the lights that decorated London for the holidays.

The sense of wonder they provided the curse-breaker was, as Penny described it in her mind, "breathtakingly cute"

Eventually, they decided to stop at a nearby restaurant to eat something and recharge their energy. Their destination being quite close

Penny's parents entered first, while Y/N held the door open for them, Beatrice, and eventually Penny herself

"Thank you!"

However, when they closed the door, a small sleigh bell caught their attention. One that was attached to a Mistletoe just above the door

Oh no...

Penny's smile turned into a nervous mess as soon as she noticed the decoration, especially what it meant during this time of the year

"W-Would you look at that, mistletoe"

"Almost didn't s-see it there"

"Yeah..."

Both of them tried their best to keep a normal conversation, not knowing how to approach the topic

Penny wouldn't mind it, in fact, she wanted it to happen. But like this? And so soon? That was so risky!

Y/N too found their cheeks getting warm, even words were failing them now. What were they supposed to do?

The curse-breaker took a step closer towards her, with a flustered smile and iron willpower to keep themselves even breathing at this point

The blonde followed in and stepped closer as well, even reaching for their hand in such a subtle way, only she knew what she was doing

Wouldn't Penny's parents scold them for doing something so bold in front of them? Or--

"Penny? Is everything alright?"

Like a hot knife cutting through butter, Beatrice's voice startled both teenagers, who promptly realized what just happened

Penny scratched the back of her neck as she turned to face her sister

"Y-Yeah, Y/N was just asking me about the menu. You know, since they are new around here!"

Beatrice bought it. It was a surprisingly good lie, especially considering the time she had to make it up

And even if Y/N didn't quite recognize some of the items on the menu, they felt an absurd amount of relief when Bea left them

A heavy sigh left the blonde's lips before she returned her attention to her "friend" and gave them an awkward smile

"Come on, Y/N, l-let's get something to eat!"

They nodded eagerly, just wanting to be put out of that misery

"Absolutely, I'm starving"

The rest of their journey went by with nothing else to report. By the time the Moon was in the sky, they had reached the countryside

It was charming and beautifully stuck in time. Of course, it had enough technology, but it still retained somewhat of the traditional look for a village

Honestly, it could give Hogsmeade a run for its money

"Here we are! Get ready to unpack, girls!" Mr. Haywood announced when entering the house they use for these occasions

The girls grabbed their luggage and went to their rooms, meanwhile, Y/N stood in the living room with Penny's parents

"Excuse me, Y/N?"

They turned round to find both the mother and father sitting on the couch, with a bit of a serious look to them.

"I don't think we've had a chance to talk for real"

For a couple that had been nothing but friendly, this sight was terrifying. Y/N gulped and nodded, embracing whatever might come next

"Absolutely"

"First, dear, let me start by saying that we know about what happened with you and those vaults"

"That is a lot, too much for someone your age to deal with" added Mr. Haywood

"I wasn't alone, I had a lot of help. From friends to teachers, everyone tried their best"

This answer earned a smile from the couple, seeing as Y/N kept somewhat of an optimistic outlook and appreciated everyone who helped them

"Maybe, but it was you who went out of your way to help our girls whenever one of them needed it"

The student didn't respond to this, but instead, they went over the events of the last few years

It was true, they helped Penny both times she resorted to using potions to escape her problems and also accompanied Beatrice in her journey to accept her new self

None of these tasks had a direct relationship with the Vaults, yet Y/N went ahead and helped them both

"What we're trying to say, is that we appreciate having someone looking after them in Hogwarts, especially given what happened"

The man stated while looking over to the room Beatrice had chosen for herself

"It's still a tad challenging to get used to things as they are now, but having good influences always helps"

Y/N smiled at this. They couldn't quite believe the conversation they were in

They were expecting Penny's parents to be a bit stern or angry at them for what happened with the Vaults. Not that it was Y/N's fault, but they had grown accustomed to people blaming them for it

This was more than a welcome change

"They would've done the same for me, you've raised wonderful people. In fact, Penny refused to let me spend the holidays by myself"

This comment earned a chuckle from the woman in front of them

"So we've heard. The least we could do was to bring you along with us, you've earned a little break"

"And talking about it, you must be exhausted from all that traveling we did. Your room is down the hall, next to Penny's"

Mr. Haywood gave them their luggage and they smiled back

"Thank you, Mr, and Mrs. Haywood. I appreciate this gesture"

They waved the teenager goodbye and were left on their own to talk

"They are quite a case, aren't they?" The man chuckled

"Indeed, but rather charming as well"

"I'm just glad they're not the troublemaker the papers make them look like"

...

Y/N was able to find the room assigned to them with no trouble, a cozy room with a bed, nightstand, bookshelf, and even a small window. It was rather charming, although they couldn't unpack their things due to the exhaustion

They placed their luggage next to the bed before getting in it, the soft sheets gently embracing them and providing a shield from the cold weather. Definitely inviting a good sleep

However, there were still prominent thoughts going all over Y/N's mind, from recent memories to the situation they found themselves on

Experiencing all of this journey with the Haywoods didn't feel like a favor or a reward for the student's achievements

It felt... normal

This was a nice break, and surely what most Hogwarts students must've felt when they lived their normal lives

No evil organizations, no Cursed Vaults, nothing that a student shouldn't deal with at that age

Just life, as it was intended to be

Y/N L/N excelled at everything they put their mind to, but if there was one thing in which they were far behind all of the other students...was at living a normal, happy life

Until now of course. It only took six years to get there

And so, the student allowed themselves to close their eyes and finally call it a day after so much walking and talking, it was ironic how this would get them more tired than their usual adventures in the castle

[mendespideys]

warm, tingly feeling | p.p.

pairing: reader x peter parker 

prompt: soulmate AU (you get cold the farther away they are and hot if they’re close)

summary: when y/n became friends with ned leeds, she wasn’t expecting to find her soulmate as well 

warnings: none

a/n: this is my submission for @notimeforthemessenger’s writing challenge. congrats, love 🦋

this is late and it sucks. out of everything i’ve posted, i like this the least, i think. some day, i might make this into a mini-series with some alterations, who knows?

Wrapping your sweater tighter around you, you entered through the doors of Midtown, the loud chatter of the high school students immediately entering your ear. You tried your best to ignore the constant murmur, hurrying into the classroom hosting your first class of the day. Your soulmate must have been further away than ever before because you were absolutely freezing. The class started filling up and you noticed, much to your dismay, that your usual lab partner, Peter Parker, was absent. You glanced around with envy, noticing your classmates in t-shirts, skirts and dresses. Admittedly, it was kind of silly to wear a thick sweater with the sun shining outside, but it wasn’t your fault that your soulmate had traveled.

When you turned sixteen, your body temperature was adjusted according to your soulmate. The further away from you they were, they colder you felt. The closer, the hotter. It was a huge game of hot and cold until you ended up finding the one. When you were younger, you loved the concept of being paired with someone that was perfect for you on all levels. Going a whole year without finding your soulmate quickly changed that romanticized idea. There was no guarantee that you would find your soulmate as soon as you turned sixteen, but it was still incredibly discouraging.

The class was uneventful. You were so cold that you had to physically keep your teeth from chattering, and it was getting very tiring. During your second class, you sat with Ned Leeds. You knew he was close friends with Peter, the two of them practically joined at the hip, but you never took the initiative to talk to either of them outside of school. When you asked about his empty seat from this morning, Ned informed you that Peter was out of the country due to this Stark Internship. You just nodded, the two of you continuing to chit-chat seeing as you were already finished with the assigned classwork. Ned had never been this talkative before and you figured it was because he didn’t have anyone to talk to when Peter was gone. A minute before the bell rang, he invited you over to his house to finish a LEGO figure Peter had promised him to help build before he was asked to leave. Having nothing better to do, you said yes.  

As the day continued, you found yourself regretting accepting Ned’s offer. It wasn’t Ned - quite the contrary, actually. Ned was awesome; he was everything and more you could want in a friend, and you had no trouble understanding why Peter liked him. You did want to hang out with Ned and help him build his LEGOs, but by the time the last bell rang, you were exhausted. You had been shivering all day and your muscles were sore from being tensed up. Nevertheless, you ignored your own misery and met up with Ned outside the school gates. The two of you made your way to his apartment, the conversation flowing easily. 

The next day, Ned greets you happily when you enter the classroom. The two of you had been building LEGOs for hours the night before, and you surprisingly had a lot in common with him. You had briefly wondered if Peter was anything like Ned. A part of you hoped so because Peter You take a seat in the empty chair next to him, offering him a small smile. Dropping your backpack to the ground, you pull out your notebook and place it on the table. With a huff, you lay your arms down on top of the book, resting your head on your forearms. Ned frowns, looking at you.

“Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I was freezing all night. Wherever my soulmate is, I hope he gets back to New York soon because it’s cold as frick.”

“Oh,” Ned purses his lips. “Sorry?” 

“It’s okay. It just sucks. What about you? You’re always wearing short-sleeve shirts. Do you know who your soulmate is?”

Ned is about to answer but is interrupted by the teacher greeting everyone. Clearing your throat, you straighten, giving him a look to let him know you would finish the conversation at lunch. The class goes by slowly, and your next class seems even slower. By the time lunch rolls around, you’re ready to go home and cuddle up underneath a heap of blankets while watching a movie. The cafeteria is annoyingly loud when you enter but you ignore it, weaving your way through the students until you reach Ned’s table. He looks up from his comic book when you sit down, grinning widely. The two of you start a conversation and you remind Ned to tell you about his soulmate-situation. 

He explains that he has a fair idea who his soulmate is, but that he’s too nervous to talk to her. He points her out among the other Midtown students and you can’t help but smile. You tell Ned that she looks beautiful and he agrees a little too quickly, his cheeks heating up at the realization. You leave the subject alone and Ned seems grateful, but you make a mental note of bringing the subject back up another day. You decide you’ll try when Peter comes back because you assume he’ll help you set up his best friend with his possible soulmate. 

The rest of the day flies by - luckily for you - and before you know it, you find yourself tucked in among three blankets while waiting for Netflix to load To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. By the time it reaches the scene where they go on their ski trip, you’re fast asleep and for the first time in days, you don’t feel like you’re about to turn into an icicle. You welcome the slight warmth with open arms, enjoying your current dream about meeting your soulmate. 

When Monday rolls around, you’re brave enough to wear high-waisted skinny jeans and your Vintage Star Wars shirt. You and Ned had been texting almost the entire weekend and you were genuinely looking forward to hanging with him at lunch. Your texting consisted mostly of you urging him to ask out his soulmate or him asking you questions about the Spanish homework. You had tried asking the occasional question about Peter, finding it incredibly strange that he was missing so many days of school, but Ned admitted that he was just as clueless as you. 

Ned is sitting at his usual table when you enter the noisy cafeteria and you send him a wave, maneuvering your way through the very talkative students. With a huff, you sit down and begin rummaging through your backpack for the leftovers you had brought for lunch. Ned is already munching on a sandwich, which you admit look a lot better than your leftovers from last night’s dinner. You lean over and steal a chip from the open bag, quickly consuming it before Ned can say anything. 

“Hey,” Ned draws out the word, pouting in mock-hurt. 

You shrug. “Sorry, I’m hungry and couldn’t resist.” 

Ned turns the bag of chips around so the opening is in the middle of both of you. You thank him for his generosity, taking yet another barbeque chip and popping it into your mouth. You shift uncomfortably, suddenly wishing you had at least brought a pair of shorts. You’re warmer than you had felt in almost an entire week, and you come to the conclusion that your soulmate has come back from wherever they went. 

“You look warmer today. Soulmate’s back in town, huh?” Ned observes, giving you a playful wink. 

“I guess so. It feels nice and all but even just wearing jeans is hot.”

Ned’s eyebrows furrow. “If you’re that warm, your soulmate must be going to Midtown, too.” 

You push his statement away, not feeling like dealing with the whole soulmate thing at the moment. When you were younger, the moment when you find your soulmate had been everything you could think about. Now, although you still wanted to find him, you weren’t obsessed with the thought anymore. You’d find him when you find him. Before you can ask Ned how he did on the Spanish quiz you had in second period, you notice another figure sitting down at the table. Furrowing your brows, you glance up to inspect the new guest. 

“Oh, yeah, Peter’s back,” Ned shrugs innocently, a wide grin growing on his face. “Y/N, this is Peter. Peter, this is Y/N. She kept me company while you left the country.” 

You send Peter a quick smile before returning your attention to Ned. “That’s all I was good for? Should I leave you alone now?” You feign to be hurt by his words and it’s difficult to contain your laughter when Ned frantically shakes his head. 

“No! Please, don’t - I didn’t mean it like that. I’m your friend. We’re friends,” Ned stutters helplessly. “Right?” 

“Ned, she’s joking,” Peter informs his best friend with a small chuckle before leaning across the table with his fist extended. You finally let the string of giggles escape you, giving Peter the fist bump he was waiting for.

You ignore the gentle electric feeling, brushing it away like it’s nothing. Because it is - nothing. The corner of Peter’s mouth curves into a hesitant smile and you return it quickly before going back to your leftovers. You listen in on their conversation, finding the sudden warmth in your body difficult to ignore. Peter stops mid-sentence about his trip to Berlin with Tony Stark, and you glance at him curiously. He quickly shrugs off his flannel, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Is it just me or is it really hot in here?” Peter asks, taking a huge sip of his chocolate milk. 

“It’s not just you. I’m really warm, too.”

The two of you shrug and you try not to think about the warm feeling of safety and adoration spreading through your body. You can’t quite pinpoint if you’re imagining it or not, but Peter’s smile makes you feel even warmer. You pray that your cheeks don’t look as red as they feel. You listen closely as Peter picks his story back up but the two of you stop a moment later, finding Ned’s sudden silence strange and uncharacteristic. You glance at your new friend, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

“You guys are- I think you might be soulmates,” Ned mumbles and you share a confused look with Peter. 

“I don’t think-” Peter starts, but Ned interjects him quickly. 

“Think about it! Y/N was freezing when you were in Berlin, like, she literally fell asleep with three blankets. Now, you’re both sweating your butts off when you’re right next to each other,” Ned shares his observations and now that he’s saying it aloud, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched. “My mom told me that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, you’ll feel a tingling feeling or something. Did either of you feel something?” 

“I-I mean-” you begin, not entirely sure on how to explain it or to comprehend the new information.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” Peter admits softly. “When you touched me, I felt warm. You know, how you feel warm if you crush looks at you or when you watch videos of puppies?”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what feeling he was describing. You look at Peter and suddenly it’s as if you’re looking at him for the first time. You had never noticed how beautiful and sincere his dark eyes were before, or how soft his hair was. Possibly because you had never been this close to him, but seeing him like this made you wonder how Peter didn’t have half the girls at Midtown lining up for him. Ned claps his hands together, barely able to contain his excitement. 

“This is awesome,” he breathes in awe. “My two friends are soulmates. You guys better mention me at your wedding because if it wasn’t for me, you guys would’ve been too dumb to realize what was right under your noses.” 

“It’s a little early to talk about a wedding,” you joke, ignoring the blush making its way to your cheeks at the thought of calling Peter your husband. “Besides, I barely know Peter. I think we should start there first.” 

“Y-Yeah, no weddings just yet,” Peter chuckles before meeting your eyes. 

“Well, you both agreed to help me build my new LEGO figure today, so how about we start there?” Ned asks, his grin wide enough for the corner of his eyes to crinkle. You and Peter both nod, still not breaking eye contact. 

♡ permanent + peter taglist: @spideymood // @parkerstan // @smexylemony // @blueeyedbesson // @embrace-themagic // @hazeyholland // @notimeforthemessenger // @alilblogger // @elentiya02 // @whileinparis // @marvel-language //@lizziemariejackson // @allofthebitters // @tominhoodies // @meaganjm // @people-leadingcauseofstress // @theirmidgardian // 

add yourself here!

[dancingsparks]

If you love something, set it free

All @urfavpendeja ‘s fault, so no Drarry this time but gay hobbits.

Also on Ao3

Frodo watched Sam dance with Rosie. They made a beautiful couple, everyone said so. Sam looked stout as always, blond curls falling in his face as he twirled her around and laughed, loud and free. It wasn’t unusual to hear him laugh like that anymore, but Frodo still remembered the days when not even Sam could laugh. Thoughts like that always made him shudder, violently throwing him back into the blank, all-consuming darkness, made his shoulder wound ache and fill his heart with longing for something long destroyed. He searches, increasingly frantically, for the ring that should be on the chain around his neck but isn’t, that is gone, heart beating faster and faster, when Sam’s laugh startles him out of his panic.

He is back again, back in the Shire, surrounded by music and dance, back with Sam, dancing and laughing and living and being happy. And suddenly, it’s all too much. The music too loud, the hobbits too many, the air too warm. Frodo needed to get away, needed to breathe, needed Sam. But Sam is with Rosie, finally unburdened and living his own life. Frodo can’t take that from him, he won’t take it away.

He abruptly stood up, toppling over his drink and upsetting several hobbits, pushing down the rows before finally breaking free. The evening air was cold around him, chilling and clearing his head. He quickly started to walk, intending to put some distance between himself and the raucous activity of the feast. There was no need to ruin everyone else’s mood on such a splendid occasion.

His feet automatically took him up the little hill to the spot where he would sit with Sam, smoking and enjoying the company. It feels wrong without Sam, lonely and cold. Frodo stays anyway.

From up here, he could see down to the dance floor where Sam was still dancing, oblivious to his inner turmoil. Frodo told himself that he’s glad about that, that he’s happy for Sam. But he couldn’t deny he wished Sam were up here with him instead of down there with her. Frodo never thought it possible to miss someone who wasn’t actually gone this much. But for all that Sam was there physically, he was miles away emotionally. He would never love Frodo the way he loved him, and it was about time he accepted that. Sam would be with Rosie; they would marry and start a family and his friend would finally be happy.

It worried Frodo if he was being honest. He didn’t like thinking like that, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. He vividly imagined Sam, at his wedding day, with his children, growing old and fat, telling stories to anyone who would listen. It’s a glorious future, one Sam always wanted and deserved, one Frodo doesn’t exist in. Sam would focus all his time and efforts on Rosie, on the things and people that bring him joy. Frodo had brought him enough misery to last a lifetime by dragging him on that dreadful journey into the heart of pure evil.

Sam would be better off without him. He might be staying with Frodo for the moment, but he could feel that things were different now. Sam was lost in thought, thinking about Rosie no doubt, smiling at nothing and being happy. It wasn’t fair for Frodo to keep Sam from pursuing his heart, it’s a selfish and desperate thing to do, clinging to the last shreds of loyalty Sam felt toward him. He knew Sam would never leave him, would feel obligated to stay even if he’d much rather spend his time with someone else. But Frodo knows he, himself, would take it, greedy for anything he could get, consuming Sam’s time and keeping it all for himself, as if he hadn’t stolen enough of it yet.

And that is why he has to send him away. He has been selfish long enough, and now Sam should be allowed to live his life, follow his dreams and build a future. He deserved it, and Frodo was keeping him back. Sam may not see it that way, will definitely protest, but Frodo knew it. And because Sam, sweet loyal Sam, would never leave on his own, Frodo had to make this choice for him. He would be upset at first, but it’d better for him in the long run. Frodo had to believe that, had to cling to the image of Sam finally being happy.

He would send him away. Next thing tomorrow, he would finally set him free. Men had a saying, “If you love something, set it free.” Frodo loved Sam, with his whole being and since the beginning of time, so he would set him free.

He couldn’t be here to watch it, though, couldn’t silently observe Sam’s life unfold and bloom, couldn’t hear his laugh only from afar or stare at his vacant garden every day wishing Sam were there. No, he would have to leave. He would have to go far away, and never come back. Surely, it would get easier with time, the pain and heartache would dull over the years. He knew he would never forget Sam, would never stop loving him, but maybe someday, he would learn to live with only half his heart.

Gandalf’s words came back to him now. How he should accompany him to Valinor, to the Undying Lands, with Bilbo and the last of the elves. It would be an honour, he said, that it would be fitting for him as ring-bearer. He hadn’t thought he would accept, would leave the world he fought so hard for behind. But without Sam, there was nothing holding him here.

He wished Sam would get his happy ending with his whole heart, but Frodo simply couldn’t stand by and watch it with a smile on his face. It had been hard enough to be supportive so far, and he couldn’t do it for a lifetime. Sam would live his life, would be happy. And for him to be happy, he needed Frodo to smile. He couldn’t do that anymore, so Frodo would leave with Gandalf and Bilbo for Valinor. It was basic, logical reasoning, flawless except for the pain it would cause.

He didn’t remember the exact date, but the last ship would leave soon. He should tell Sam now; he owed him an explanation that wasn’t rushed and at the last possible moment. But not telling him now meant Frodo would get a few more days to stay close to him, to make him laugh and pretend they could stay like this forever. It also meant a few more days of forced smiles, though well worth it in the end.  

But here, engulfed by the darkness around him, no one could see his tears, so he let them fall freely. Frodo cried for the tomorrows that would never come, for the hurt expression Sam would surely have when he has to send him away, for the life of pronounced absence that waited for him.

This is how Sam found him, alone on their hill, head buried in his hands and sobs wrecking his body. Frodo noticed him too late, or he would have tried to stop the tears, put on a smile, and pretend. But he only noticed when Sam’s arms were around him, holding him tightly and pressing his face into his neck. Frodo wanted to protest, wanted to wipe away his tears and completely ignore his feelings, but Sam was so soft and smelled like heaven, safe and familiar. Before he consciously decided to, he relaxed into the hold and sobbed, wetting Sam’s clothes with his tears. Sam only made soothing noises, gently rubbing a hand down his back or petting his hair.

“Now, Mr. Frodo, what could possibly be wrong on a wonderful evening such as this? Who do I need to beat up?” Sam spoke gently, carefully, not wanting to upset Frodo again, but with such fierceness that he didn’t doubt for a second that he would do it. Even if he would much rather stay with Frodo, make sure he’s alright.

“Oh, Sam, my good Sam, there is nothing wrong, I promise. Just stay like that for a little longer, that is more than enough.” He knew he should get up, should distance himself and not make this harder than it already was. And he would, he would, if not for the pleasant rumble in Sam’s chest or the hand still playing with his hair. Frodo never wanted to move again, and at that moment, he didn’t have to. So, he snuggled closer.

“Keep talking, please?” It came out small, meek and unsure, but Sam just pressed a kiss on his head and started talking. Frodo couldn’t see him, as that would’ve required him to move his head, so he let Sam’s voice wash over him, raising and falling in waves, telling the tales of the stars.

“I will miss this the most, I think.” Frodo didn’t realise he had spoken until he felt Sam go still under him. It was only meant for himself, a quiet acknowledgment to what he was about to give up. But now Sam had heard, and it would be folly to believe Frodo could tell him anything but the truth. He could never lie to Sam.

“Miss it, Mr. Frodo? There’s no need to miss anything, we can do this all the time.” But he didn’t continue his story; he waited for Frodo to explain himself.

“I didn’t want to tell you yet, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He didn’t move away from Sam, treasuring the warmth as long as he still could, hiding. He took a deep breath, preparing for what he needed to do.

If you love something, set it free.

“I finished Bilbo’s book, you know. Wrote down every detail of our great adventure, every single time you saved my life or brought me hope when I wanted to give up. I wouldn’t have made it without you, Sam. I need you to remember that, to remember me.

“I am leaving, Sam. We set out to save the Shire, and save it we did, but I don’t belong here anymore. I have nothing to return to, nothing holding me. The elves offered to take me to Valinor with Gandalf and Bilbo. I will go with them, soon, and I won’t return.

“I would love to stay for your wedding, to watch your children grow up and see you grow old Sam, I really would. I understand if you are angry now, but I would beg you, my dear Sam, not to be. I don’t want to spend our last days together fighting.”

Frodo didn’t dare look up, couldn’t bear to see the anger, or worse, the hurt in Sam’s eyes. It was bad enough to feel how still he was, his hand tangled in his hair but not moving anymore, the rumbling of his voice no longer there. Frodo didn’t move either, didn’t want to break fragile last moment before he would be confronted with the grief he caused. But he had to stay strong, for Sam.

“You are making fun, Mr. Frodo. But I don’t think it’s funny, no, not funny at all.” Sam sounded odd, void of the usual passion and warmth. He kept talking though, quickly gaining vigour.

“You are not making sense, talking of my wedding and yet you not being there, how is that possible, I ask you? I would look a right fool, all alone with you gone. But I would never be angry if you didn’t want that. I just beg you not to leave, to not even joke about such horrible things. For, while I may never forget you, I can’t even think of living my whole life with nothing but the memory of you. I don’t intend to ever let you go.” Sam held him closer now, pressed their bodies together, and all but whispered the last part, soft and fierce. It broke Frodo’s heart all over again.

“Oh, Sam, don’t you know how much I want that, how I wish to never be parted from you? But even more than that, I want you to be happy! You have been loyal to me long enough, suffered more for me than I ever could have asked, I will not take your future from you as well. I won’t keep you from marrying Rosie just so you can stay with me, and yet you are far too stubborn for your own good, so I will leave. You are not failing me by following your heart Sam, not even if it leads you away from me.” Frodo was crying again, clinging to Sam against his every intention. Soon now, he would be gone forever. Who could blame him for savouring this last contact?

Suddenly, Sam was moving, gently cupping his face and tilting it up, and their eyes finally met. Frodo found none of the hurt and anger he had expected; instead, Sam smiled in that way of his he could never interpret, though he’d dedicated countless hours to analysing it. Again, he could just stare up at Sam in wide-eyed wonder.

“You had me scared for a second there, more scared than the combined forces of evil. But how could you not know? I always thought you knew and were doing me a kindness by not mentioning it. I love you, Frodo. With my whole heart and soul do I love you, and I will marry no one but you if you will have me.”

Frodo kept staring, brain desperately trying to process what he had just heard, though deep in his heart, he always knew. He broke out laughing, relieved and free, as happy as he hadn’t been in too long, and surged up, throwing his arms around Sam, toppling them both over with the sudden motion.

Neither of them minded. For a moment they were nothing more than two young and stupid hobbits again, fooling around without a care in the world. Frodo felt none of the usual nostalgia, though. Nothing could compare to this moment right here and now.

Laughter trailed off, and Frodo found himself lying under Sam, looking up at his smiling face. The crushing grief he felt just moments ago was forgotten, chased away by Sam’s earnest words and a happy smile. He looked lovely, face framed by the night sky, no star even half as beautiful as his eyes. His curls were a mess, thanks to their brief stumble, but they looked incredibly soft, and Frodo neither had the desire nor the ability to stop himself from reaching out. He twirled the locks around his finger, running his hand through Sam’s hair, brushing against his ears to see him shudder. Sam was fascinating, and Frodo intended to study his every reaction, every sound and movement. His eyes fell down to Sam’s lips, slightly parted and chapped, they shouldn’t be as alluring as they were. But then, Sam always had held a certain charm, something that made him irresistible to Frodo.

What wanted to make Frodo listen to him when he lectured him about eating or paying attention when he was raving on about his plants, now made him long for a kiss.

Sam was practically purring, eyes closed, and head softly pressed up against Frodo’s hands whenever he deemed the pressure was too low or the pause was too long. He would have been content doing this, dedicating his life to keeping the expression of bliss on Sam’s face, and it would have been a good life. But then his mouth captured Frodo’s attention, casting the charm and shifting his focus.

Frodo gently pulled Sam down, closer to him, until their lips could almost touch and they breathed the same air. This close he could count Sam’s freckles, even in the darkness. He had always loved them, wanted to memorise every single one of them, wanted to connect and trace them. Slowly Frodo slid one hand from his hair, rested it against his face, and thumbed over the freckles on his cheekbones. Sam’s eyes stayed open this time, watching as Frodo cupped his face with both his hands.

He could hardly remember how he ever thought he could let Sam go. “If you love it, set it free” that’s what they say. Suddenly he remembers, the saying doesn’t end there.

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours.

Frodo preferred it this way. He smiled up at Sam, meeting his eyes, and found the same unspoken desires reflected in them.

“May I kiss you, my dear, lovely Sam?”  

[veryfineday]

Saturday 23 April 1825

6 5/60

10 3/4

.. [Anne’s period] 

From 7 3/4 to 10 10/60 wrote the few last lines of the 1st end, the whole of the 2nd a great deal under the seal, all very small and close, and crossed the 1st page of my letter (began on wednesday part written on Thursday and finished this morning) to ‘madame madame Barlow, Quai Voltaire no.15, Paris’, all which read over, wafered, and directed, and gave for George to take to the post-office –

I have had no time to make extracts but it is very affectionate  say she will perhaps ssee me again before the all off[er]ed two years are expired write as if having no wish but to make her my wife §§  yet say she knows ‘the hard necessity of circumstance that clings around me now’ bid her do what is best for her own interest and for Janes §  for her sake I can forget to be selfish nay more than this abhor thought bid her ‘not sacrifice a certain good for the upncertain prospect of making happy one whose affections she had gained forever but whose hopes of happiness had waked not from their sleep of years till roused by you to live and tremble once again’ § – all this brought on by my saying I had been taken by surprise altogether tho I ought not to have been by the reappearance of her ‘old beau’ that is Mr William Bell §  said I had not the same feeling of repugnance towards him as Mr Hancock between whom to again use her aunts words il nya pas de choix  in point of gentility Mrs H[ancock] nothing beyond her bright grates in bread street but bade her not atten[d] to me but make other inquiries  said I did not mean to reflect on her taste she had seen Mr H[ancock] ‘in ignorance and at Place Vendome two reasons taken conjointly quite enough to excuse the whole thing’ –

she would not ruin me in postage – if her letters cost no more than now and she write regularly every fortnight of her life, they would only cost 47 shillings and 8 d.pence a year  a sum far greater than which I should save by the habits of economy her regard had taught me – why did she not marK the little volumes?  § Rousseaus Nouvelle Heloise  she herself was the only one to whom I would give  did she think I could now make such presents to others perhaps she would soon become what she was pleased to call ‘more rational’ without much effort  ‘you have taught me much untaught before and surely I must strangely learn that hardest science  to forget [wh]ere I can associate another with those sentiments which you have chastened and refined  there is a little sacred record in my memory that would star t up into life against me’ were I to give these too interesting volume to any other than herself – had before all this bidden her not tell me any more of her being an injury to my future prospects etc. etc. §  they we were good enough to content me I wanted nothing more than I was likely to have ‘save that most difficult to gain of all possesions a heart in unison with my own’ –

§ alluding to madame G-[Galvani] ‘They are who thinK but little or tomorrow or of yesterday – are they the happier? I doubt it much – Then are, too, who have no faith in worlds to come; who have no stay for thought to rest upon, and, with whom, it would ‘destroy their paradise’ – when ‘we go hence, and are no more seen, who ever much remembers us, save that lonely one within whose heart our shrine was raised?’ 

ThanKs for her present of the Environs of Paris – I should con it over and plan some litt[l]e excursions for us  concluded my letter with bidding her tell me everything and ‘remember it is the gentle beam of affection not the meridian blaze of intellect that makes happy the heart of your affectionately attached AL’ –

vide last wednesday page 285. no observation made on mrs. B-’s[Barlow’s] letter because I had not time – 3 pp.pages long ends, and a great deal under the seal, all very small and close – § very very affectionate ‘a diversity of objects and scenery saved you from the intense misery I have suffered’ and she goes on to describe feelings much more intense than I had ever dreampt of her experiencing for me it ended in her being ill and having a great deal of fever for which Mrs Guantlet made her take calomel etc. § ‘I became so ill I had so much fever that I composed letters in my brain to your uncle telling him that your return alone could save my child from being an orphan’ – ‘so thin am I that my rings are laid aside I kept losing them every moment’ – about the going to Edmonto[n] etc. she says ‘I know not how to express all my obligation none but yourself could have acted as you describe the invention and decision was unique and the desc[r]iption capital’ –

§ Mr William Bell her ‘old beau’ had called and sat two hours with her making it evident he would offer if he thought he had the smallest chance of being accepted § ‘when I saw him..... I asked myself is that the man who caused much a sensation in our families how altered how changed in every respect’ – ‘would that I had but one day more of your dear societyelf in this ssalon I have so many things unsaid which perhaps we may never meet with op[p]ortunity to express but to tell you truly I must have many days of your society to induce me to undergo the agonized feelings I endured the days which followed your departure I thought I was near my end not that I fear death but on my childs account not that I love you less  but that I feel satisfied you would be decidedly better provided for without the burden of my acquaintance which can only prove disadvantageous and imprudent in being encouraged I must stop op my pen for I know non [not] what my light head would scribble on to say the best thing I could do with this sheet would be to consign it to the flame my next I trust will be more rational god bless and prese[r]ve you you know all I would say adieu CMB’ thus ends the third page –

Her aunt writes that mr. de Lancey speaKs highly of me – Jane has got the SKetch booK with ‘which is extremely well bound – I never saw Jane so delighted with anything’ § – of madame G-Galvani ‘I do not Know anyone who only thinKs of the present so much as our friend – all her actions, even in respect to economy, portray the same character’.... my letter sent off from London on the monday reached mrs. B-Barlow the Thursday following (the 14th April) – and was charged 24 sols – written on my very thin French paper and wafered –

 §§ in my answer when on the subject  vide line 12 from the bottom of the last page slightly alluded to our connection none could possibly understand it but herself  said I still sighed § after happiness gone by with a sigh more deep and long than she might think ‘in the midst of occupation when the strong voice of duty and necessity call on our attention the mind may be diverted for a while but tis the hour of rest when we retire into ourselves tis then when wh fancy brings to mind what absence takes away and thought of happiness gone by disorders all the heart’ said my own room was perhaps the worst place in which to calculate my loss – in an earlier part of my letter had hoped that at all rates she would not be disappointed in me as a friend §  would have nothing to regret but my misfortune (this hard necessity of circumstance that brings around me now) nothing to reproach but my loving her too well  this would be my only fault towards her which I hoped she would forgive ‘and even its very faultiness may wear away with time for time may come when my regard maybe your own without another voice to claim it maybe your own as well from duty as from inclination §§ – in another part speaking of my regard for her calling for no sacri fice on my part my prospect were good enough  [?] and alluding to her thinking of Janes interest  ‘even pride forbids that all the sacrifice should be on one side’ meaning hers § adding ‘if you were as ssingle as I am  I should expect the same sacrifices from you I would in such a case make myself’ - 

Breakfast at 10 1/4 – came upstairs at 11 1/4 – had just written the part of my journal of today on the last page when (at 12 1/2) Cordingley said Dr. Kenny and mr. Sunderland were come (to my aunt) went down – went into the drawing room, where they were with my aunt, for 10 minutes – then waited their going, and followed them into the front stable – spoke to them for a minute or 2 – Dr. K-[Kenny] thinKs my aunt in a very weaK, suffering state – a very delicate subject to deal with – this catching – convulsive motion of the diaphragm which has come on so much within these last few days, the worst symptom – I see he thinKs her constitution much broKen –

she had a warm bath last night, and is to have one again tonight about 98º Fahrenheit – after coming up to bed last night, went down to see how Cordingley had ordered the bath – found the tub 3/2 to two thirds full of water at 170º - staid 25 minutes till Cordingley had put in cold water that reduced it to about 100, or a few degrees more – my aunt too was sitting by the lower Kitchen fire waiting all this time – very bad management – and the tub placed just under the oat bread racK

staid talKing to my uncle and aunt, and did not come upstairs till 1 3/4 – then wrote the whole of the last page which tooK me till 3 – from 3 1/4 to 5 1/4 wrote 3 pp.[pages] and the ends (tolerably close) to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to go tomor[row] – easy chit-chat, in answer to mrs. N-’s[Norcliffe’s] letter on wednesday 3 pp.[pages] (quite full) the ends, and a good deal under the seal –

a very Kind letter – I had no time to make any observation on it on wednesday – anxious to Know that M-[Mariana] did not visit colonel BerKeley – ‘why introduce her to him at all – old as Jam, I would not be introduced to him’... § a man whose character is so despicable and well Known, that it did not want the addition of his treacherous conduct to miss Foote, to make him as I believe he is, most generally despised .... it is not the 1st trait of treachery to a female’... together with what I copied from M-’s[Mariana’s] letter in my last to mrs. N-[Norcliffe] and the remainder I have copied in this, conclude the L-s[Lawtons] did not visit him, but left mrs. N-[Norcliffe] to form her own conclusions –

§ on her 1st page mrs. N-[Norcliffe] writes ‘you and I suit very well; and, should I live and have my health next year, at this time, should much enjoy a sejour of a month in our capital (London) with you’ – answer after mentioning my uncle and aunt’s health, and saying Dr. Kenny had been here this morning to see the latter – ‘should they be well enough for me to leave them, next year, and this time, nothing would delight me so much, as a month with you in that 1st of cities, London – at all rates, I hope and trust, no flaw in your own health wil be the preventative’ –

Have asKed mrs. N-[Norcliffe] if she Knows anything of mrs. Middleton, daughter of sir William Grace, wife of Mr. Middleton of IlKley – mother of mr. Peter m-[Middleton] of StocKhill-parK who married Miss [Stourton] – wrote the above of this page read over and folded and directed my letter to mrs. N-[Norcliffe], and had just done at 6 –

Great deal of rain last night – rained from the time of my getting up, more or less, till about 3 p.m. – about 8 a.m. sent John Booth to desire nothing to be done at the foot path – no stones to be led, for fear of cutting Thomas Pearson’s field – Dinner at 6 1/2 – Did nothing in the evening – Fair this evening (vide the 4th line above)  Barometer 3 1/4 degree below changeable Fahrenheit 44º at 9 p.m. at which hour came up to bed – Reading volume 1 Rousseau’s confession and looKing at the map of England and that of France, for about an hour – E [2 dots inside] O [1 dot inside] – my cousin came just before getting into bed

[mymentalmasochism-blog]

MentalMasochism Reviews: Vampire Knight - Anime

I’ll be combining Vampire Knight and its second season, Vampire Knight Guilty, into the same review. Oh boy, vampires? School? Romance? What more could we want?! We follow Yuki Cross, who is a guardian at Cross Academy, a school dedicated to trying to build peace between vampires and humans….by not telling the humans that vampires even exist, we’re just letting them think these beautiful and highly intelligent people are just not allowed to associate with the “Day Class” because why? Who knows! What matters is that they’re taking classes in the same building, at different times! Yuki and her fellow guardian, Zero Kiryu ensure the peace between classes. Yuki is a human girl that is plagued by severe PTSD from her first memory, that of a terrible vampire going to eat her, but thankfully she was saved by the president of the Moon Class (the vamps), Kaname Kuran. What she doesn’t know is that Zero is going to devolve into a  Level E Vampire, which basically means he’s a mindless vampire out for human blood. Don’t worry, he’s fine. He starts off drinking her blood, and then Kaname offers his blood to him with the stipulation that Zero must “never betray” Yuki...Oooh, the plot thickens! Too bad we never entirely see what he means by that, unless he’s referring to the season 2 finale?? Oh well, at least you know he’ll never betray her!

Honestly, I considered Zero and his whole “cursed twins” arc with Ichiru and Hiou Shizuka, the Pureblood who killed his family and turned him into a vampire, the be one of the most infuriatingly dull aspects of the entire anime. I get that he’s oh so tortured, but for god’s sake, you don’t have to be a complete wimp about it! Anyway, yes, the vampire that killed Zero’s family shows up in the first season. Don’t worry, she dies by Kaname’s hand after getting shot by Zero’s anti-vampire gun. It was incredibly boring, and I spent the entire time wishing it to end. Seriously, I was rather hoping he’d pull the trigger in this scene from one of the very early episodes. Please dude, put us both out of the misery…

Yuki is constantly left in the dark about everything, from both Kaname and Zero, and she’s basically just left blaming herself for being the weak one. No, not really. You’re by no means strong, but it’s not your fault that they refuse to let you get involved in anything. So I’m going to have to say that I much more support Kaname and Yuki as a couple--

Well s@#%…..Even still, they make a better couple-- and oh, what’s that, Kaname?

Well cool, they’re not even real siblings, so you’re going to explain that to her, right, Kaname?

No? Okay….just use your non-human status as a way to say that “incest” is totally accepted. Seriously, why can’t you just explain how it’s acceptable so that I don’t feel weird about supporting them as a couple?

Whelp, this is an odd place to be, but yeah, looks like I’m supporting weird vampire-non-incest-maybe?

Well god@#$%it… Moving on!

The interactions between the two has its own level of annoying, neither of them want to be straight with each other. Okay, technically not entirely true, I consider Kaname far more upfront with his feelings than Yuki is, even if he hides a whole lot of things from her, and is actually pretty manipulative. Huh...now that I think about it, all three of them are kind of awkward… Still though, vampire-non-incest-that-actually-kinda-is-incest all the way!

To back up a bit, before the whole incest-non-incest thing, Yuki starts getting weird visions of blood, blood everywhere! She begs Kaname to tell her their connection, to which he agrees, if she becomes his lover. Sweet, the couple is finally together guys! Her visions get worse, and all attempts to remember her past just cause her migraines and more sleeplessness. Zero’s brother also shows up, this time with Lord Rido by his side, the uncle to Kaname. Their relationship is tense to say the least...

After much torment, Yuki is losing it, and Kaname decides to finally “awaken” her. Which is when we learned that they are siblings-but-not-but-still-related. Zero is of course pissed, and Rido sits in the corner rubbing his hands together evilly. This is actually probably one of my favorite scenes in the anime, and was what drew me in when I was looking around for something to watch.

A particularly irksome part nearing the end of the second season is how Zero decides to absolutely despise Yuki. She spends her time feeling like she’s been deceiving him (again, not her fault/choice nor did she even know, so why she’s blaming herself AGAIN is beyond me) while he spends his time basically just crying and feeling sorry for himself, because he is a vampire and a vampire hunter, and wants to kill all of them, which now includes her as well, because she is a pureblood vampire… because so much for the whole “coexist” mentality which was the entire point of the school in the first place.

Anyway, Rido wakes up with the help from Kaname’s blood, that was willingly given in hopes to finally destroy him once and for all. Yuki runs around, constantly ignoring Kaname, who pretty much just want to keep her safely out of the fighting. Kaname AND Zero’s master, Yagari, both tell him to stop being such a baby, and he is informed that Kaname’s entire intention for everything he did for him was so that he could become the ultimate Vampire Hunter, and destroy Rido, something he has been unable to do because he is the progenitor of the Kurans.

Yuki decides to be a complete moron and lead herself and her vampire protectors into danger by going to take Rido head on. It quite obviously doesn’t work, and why she thought she could manage this, being such a newly awakened vampire is beyond me. Her Artemis Rod weapon finally proves useful (seriously, it has been completely worthless up until now) and she gets all of the baby vampires to run away. She’s promptly restrained, like an idiot, and things are looking tense, but don’t worry, they’re fine. Zero kills Rido with his transformed anti-vampire weapon, Bloody Rose. Kaname also destroys the entire governing body of the vampire world.

Then Zero does probably the most jerk move, and demands that Yuki drink his blood, just to prove that she is indeed a vampire. Her being a vampire allows him to have a clear conscious about promising to kill her next time they meet? But he literally forces her to admit that she can’t be anything but his enemy. That aside, Yuki decides to leave the school with Kaname. Which just leaves a massive amount of dead bodies and devastation that the Headmaster gets to explain to the remaining student body, who all stayed in the auditorium during the entirety of the epic fights….

Bottom line: This isn’t a terrible anime, per se. I think possibly my biggest complaint could also be seen as a praise too, and that is-- this anime doesn’t really focus on the romance quite as much as I expected. Which is good and bad. Considering that Yuki and Kaname essentially end up together in the end, I rather wished to be able to see more of their relationship. I understand that she considered him above her and out of her reach, but by the time they did get together, everything felt really rushed, so there wasn’t a chance for their relationship to develop further. While I like romance in moderation, this is actually a case of where it was too much on the back burner. There are plenty of times where they could have expanded on certain scenes to show more of their relationship, and I would have rather watch more growth between those two characters than to watch some of the other subplots. It’s made very clear that Kaname loves Yuki more than anything, and he even has a touching scene toward the end where he apologizes for how he has hurt her. So, since this anime clearly leaves things unfinished, and I have no interest in reading a manga to tie up the loose ends, I guess I’ll just have to fantasize about how wonderful marriage life must be for Yuki and Kaname.

[unwiltingblossom]

I’m not saying the intent of the call by Cheritz was for 7 to be manipulative, but in-universe, 7 is being emotionally manipulative with the MC, saying “Oh, you don’t care about ANYONE, only JUMIN” - that’s completely uncalled for and rude, and only serves to make MC feel bad for caring about the person that she loves, who’s been having an emotional breakdown himself. It goes back to the same problem with his route, where he’s gaslighting her ‘for her own safety’, he’s doing it here in the phonecall, too, blaming her for his being lonely and alone because “You don’t care about me, just Jumin” while she is literally on the phone with him worried about him.

You don’t get a blank check because you’re like “Hey, I’m happy for you!” and then the next day, as soon as you’re having a bad day, you dump emotional abuse on that person and guilt them over not picking you. If 7 wasn’t fit to talk to people, he could have refused to pick up. If he wasn’t fit for conversation, he could have hung up rather than continue on and tell MC how terrible she was for not caring about his problems that he’s shared with no one. If he wanted comfort, then maybe he should have sought that out, or accepted it when it was offered, but he doesn’t. Instead, when MC offers concern and comfort, he throws it back in her face in the most hurtful way possible, in a way that’s all but assured to make her feel guilty for loving Jumin, despite her doing nothing wrong. And you can blame MC and say she should have known better than to call him, but she doesn’t know, because all she knows is that he’s acting weird and Yoosung is being cagey about something bad happening to him.

Also I was talking about the day 10 call. The ‘supportive’ one is day 9 for 7. It should have been the other way around,  but Cheritz did it this way and ruined the supportive one. They could have had 7 be an ass and then the next day apologize and be supportive, but they did the reverse, and now we’re stuck with that.

I do not care that he is going through a crisis. It’s not an excuse. Every other character in the game sans maybe Jaehee also goes through a crisis at some point, and yet only 7 lashes out at the MC and blames her for his misery when they’re doing it. Zen pulls away from her because he wants to handle it himself, but he never blames her for his feelings. Jumin clings to her in a blind panic, but he doesn’t blame her for it. Only 7 blames MC for it - despite it having literally nothing to do with her. 7 never apologizes, and there’s no indication he ever does or ever would - considering 7′s personality there’s a really strong argument for saying he definitely doesn’t, and instead just pretends the phonecall never happened, dumping guilt on MC and then pretending he didn’t and never resolving it for her or explaining himself.

7 could express that he’s in pain, that he feels alone, and that his world is broken, without pointing that pain at MC and blaming her for it. When he says “My heart is breadcrumbs, but you don’t care, you only care about Jumin” he’s not saying that he’s in pain and feels alone, he’s saying he feels alone and it is MC’s fault because she’s being selfish and not caring about anyone but Jumin (despite actively not doing so in that very moment). 

People can like 7 if they want, it doesn’t bother me at all, but I definitely do not agree with excusing his behavior because he feels bad. No one else gets that excuse, so why should 7 get it? I’m gonna push back against it if I see it. And hey, I prefer people presenting points about things than just getting huffy puffy on anon and saying I’m just wrong.

Am i the only one who finds the 707 breadcrumbs call a bit... off? Instead of being happy MC has found someone who they like he calls and accuses them of not caring? I don't know, it just doesn't sit right with me personally. At least in Jumin's version of that call he's more subtle about it with the movie quote and doesn't start blaming MC and try to make them feel bad

Oh trust me, you’re not. Even people who really like 707 tend to not like that phonecall. Seven’s on full guilt-mode and accuses the MC of not caring about him when she’s literally calling him at like 3am on her last night staying with Jumin while she should be cuddling with him. It’s meant to be angst that leads into 7′s route, but it’s really awkward and emotionally manipulative. Like you said, Jumin’s very subtle about it to the point where it’s not actually clear he’s romantically interested in MC in the call. Others are less subtle, but they also don’t guilt MC, they just say “Yeah, actually I love you too, but this is fine, I’m happy for you two.”

[sophisticated-angel]

Out of My Hands - Part Eleven

Character: Castiel

Warning: None

Word Count: 2,330

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six  - Part Seven - Part Eight  - Part Nine - Part Ten

Summary: Now that Dean has broken her heart, the reader accepts Castiel with open arms, but Cass can’t live with what he’s done.

Story

   There's something different about Castiel, a sort of warmth and softness you've never noticed before, perhaps because most of your energy went into pushing him away. He came to you when you called him in the middle of nowhere, not a trace of jealousy or disapproval about him. He didn't scold you or shame you; instead, he held you in his arms until your tears subsided and whispered an honest “I'm sorry” in your ear when you were calm enough to understand him. You didn't need to say anything, didn't have to tell him what had happened because he already knew.

   He took you back home after that, and he laid you in bed, covered you with your softest blanket, and handed you a mug of hot tea he pulled out of thin air. After he tried to speak words of comfort, you asked him to hold you again, and when he did, you immersed yourself in his embrace. For the first time, you let him touch you, let him get very close, and you felt something soothing and beautiful. It lazily flooded your head and and ran down to your fingertips, taking away much of the stress and misery that had recently come about, and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly peaceful, even more so than when you met Dean.

   “What is that?” you asked the angel.

   “My Grace.”

   “Grace?”

   “It’s what makes me an angel. It can be used to heal, and right now I’m using it to bring you peace.”

   “I like it.”

   You fell asleep curled up next to him, never wanting the feeling to go away. Even now, a month later, you still feel that peace, but it’s not so much just his Grace as it is something that comes from him. He doesn’t have to use his angel powers to make you feel warm inside, not anymore. It’s the way he lays beside you at night, the pleasant smile he gives you when you wake up in the morning, his hand in yours when Dean’s words come back to haunt you. You never thought he could make you feel this way, this safe, this cared for, but perhaps that’s because you never let him in. You never gave him a chance, chose instead to blame him for your problems and even banished him when he was only trying to protect you.

   You made sure to apologize for that last bit.

   But now everything is different. You’ve embraced married life and become grateful to have someone who would bend over backward to make you happy. Castiel still does not take advantage of the power given to him through the rules of the union and continues to respect your wishes and free will. You fear nothing now; not even your broken heart can compete with what you feel for Castiel because what can stand against an angel? Maybe Heaven knew better than you did about what would make you happiest. Though you still aren’t pleased with the way they forced you into this, you’re beginning to see the upside.

   The ring on your finger feels less like a weight and more like a promise. It’s a reminder that you’re bound to an angel who will come when you call him and has sworn to take care of you. Just last week you brought him along on a hunt and watched in awe as he smote a trio of demons effortlessly with fire in his eyes, and seconds later he changed his demeanor entirely as he healed every scrape and bruise you had been dealt. He closed the moment with a tender kiss to your forehead and escorted you back home.

   You’re in love.

*    *    *    *    *

   She doesn’t love him, that much Castiel knows. She implies that she does, but her actions are reminiscent of someone who desperately wants comfort after having their heart broken. While he may have therapeutic benefits for her, he’s just the rebound, and what scares him the most is how intense the love she's convinced she feels is. This is all his fault. He allowed her to use him to withdraw and hide from her pain, and despite his willingness to help her cope and heal, this is wrong. On the other hand, Azariel seems more pleased than ever.

   “Was it really that bad?” he asks.

   Cass has to force himself to lie. “No.”

   “I still think you let her have her own way too much, but this is an improvement.” Azariel glances back at Castiel and sees the less than enthusiastic look on his face. “Come now, brother. Don’t tell me this still bothers you.”

   Averting his eyes, Cass purses his lips.

   “You want to let her make her own decisions, and she has decided to behave and devote herself to you. I thought that might make you happy.”

   “I don’t want her devotion.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because it doesn’t come from love.”

   “Love was never a condition for this marriage. Think of it this way: you managed to get her in line, and now I have no reason to send out one of our brothers to punish her.” Much too cheerfully, Azariel pats Castiel on the shoulder and leaves the room to attend to other business.

   Feeling heavy, Cass halfheartedly watches his superior leave him, and in the following solitude, he balls his hands into fists and drops his chin to his chest.

   What the hell has he done?

   *    *    *    *    *

   She’s singing on his next visit. It’s a tune Castiel doesn’t recognize, but he smiles all the same. He likes it when she’s happy; it means the scared thoughts and bad memories aren’t plaguing her, and she’s inclined to have a little bounce in her step.

   Today, he’s going to ruin that bounce. Three little words is all it will take: “It’s my fault”. He’s going to say it exactly like that, too. He’ll walk up to her, wait until she’s caught onto his sober temperament, and say “it’s all my fault.” It’s necessary . . . no, it’s the right thing to do. As much as he cares about her, he owes her this much. He owes her his honesty.

   How he would give anything not to have to do this.

   His smile vanishes.

   Rarely does he tremble, but as he raises a closed hand to knock on her front door, his hand shakes and adds a subtle staccato to the knock.

   Rat-at tat tat.

   Inside, the singing subsides, and (y/n)’s footsteps define her path towards the door. Every step adds another beat to the nervous pounding in Castiel’s chest. Soon enough, the door opens in, and the angel finds himself greeted with a quick kiss on the lips.

   “Hey, you,” she says brightly. “It’s been two whole days.”

   “Yes, well, I uh . . .”

   “Business in Heaven?”

   “Something like that.”

   “You take your job seriously. Nothing wrong with that.” Taking him by the hand, she leads him into the house. “Staying long?”

   “Probably not.”

   “Long enough for me to enjoy your company, I hope.” She smiles at him and bestows another kiss.

   Castiel forces a replying smile. It takes effort to not lean into the kiss and deepen it. Over the course of the past month or so, he’s found that he enjoys being kissed by her. Before it was something for which he never saw much purpose, but now he savors every touch of her lips to his. And yet, he does this while feeling terrible on the inside. She shouldn’t kiss him. She won’t want to after today.

   “Oh!” she exclaims, and then she dashes off to some corner of the house. She’s back in a minute, and she now carries his trench coat over one arm. She holds it out for him to take. “I don't know why I keep forgetting, but here. You left this here forever ago, and I figure it’s about time you have it back.”

   “Thank you.” Castiel takes the coat and slides it on over his suit jacket. The weight is familiar, but he forgot he missed it until now. Other things have been occupying his mind as of late.

   “No problem. Hey, there’s an eighties movie marathon on tonight. You should stay for some of it.”

   “I shouldn’t . . .”

   “Come on. Stay for just one.”

   He stays. He sits, he watches, he stays. She leans into him, content to lay against her husband with his arm around her shoulders. They watch a strangely dark musical. It’s yet another movie Castiel doesn’t understand, but perhaps, he thinks, it would be more easily comprehended if it weren’t broken up by commercials. Truth be told, he isn’t focused on it, and what he catches he doesn’t like. When the film ends, (y/n) turns to him with a calm grin.

   “You’re quiet today,” she observes. “You usually ask so many questions about pop culture. Did you like the movie?”

   “It was . . . interesting.”

   “You don’t have to like it, you know.” Straightening, she brushes back a stray lock of hair. “You’re entitled to your own opinion.”

   I have one, he thinks, and it’s that this, us, is wrong.

   “Do you like me, Castiel?”

   “What? Um, I suppose I do. Yes.”

   “Do you like me very much?”

   “Yes.” Abruptly, he’s acutely aware of how close to him she’s gotten. She’s not crowding him, not smothering him, she’s just close, and she won’t drop his gaze. Her warm breath tickles his cheek.

   Grin shifting to a smirk, she closes the distance between them to kiss him for the third time today. This one is unfamiliar. It has a certain softness about it, a delicateness, almost like she’s teasing him, and in fact she tugs gently at his lip when she pulls back. All he can do is stare.

   “I like you with your coat on,” she purrs, “but isn’t it a little warm for it?”

   “I don’t understand-”

   She cuts him off with another, firmer kiss. Again, he’s too stunned to react. Her forward motion pushes him back, and his shoulders dig into the back of the couch. When she breaks the kiss this time, she stays hotly close, and one of her hands rests on his knee. The contact sparks goosebumps, sends chills down his spine, and confuses him further. What is she doing? Heat rises in his chest, his heart flutters, and he is unable to stop himself from kissing her back. Why did he do that?

   Her mind is hot, the emotion intense and confusing, and it’s when her hand moves up his thigh that he realizes what she’s trying to do.

   “Stop,” he gasps. “Stop this.”

   Surprised, (y/n) obeys the hands that push her away and retracts her own. She lets out a sharp exhale and pauses. “Sorry.”

   “Don’t apologize. It’s not - you’ve done nothing wrong.” Castiel hunches his shoulders and rests his elbows on his knees.

   “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

   “It’s not you.”

   “What is it? Cass, are you okay?”

   “No,” he admits. “(y/n), there’s something I have to tell you.”

   “Okay.” Wonderingly, she folds her arms across her stomach. “I’m listening.”

   “Before I tell you,” he hesitates, “know that I truly care for you and about you. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel this way, and I did this to protect you.”

   “Did what?”

   “Something very wrong. I had good intentions, but what I did was wrong. There were alternatives, I just didn’t want to lock you away.”

   “Lock me away? Cass, what are you talking about? What did you do?”

   “You weren’t listening, and I got scared, so I ruined it. I ruined everything.”

   “Cass, you’re scaring me. What did you do? Hey.” With a soft touch, she turns his head to face her. “I love you.”

   Castiel fixates on her face, her eyes. “You think you mean it.”

   “Mean it? Of course I mean it, Cass. I love you.”

   He shakes his head remorsefully. “No, you don’t. You love Dean.”

   “Dean? What does he have to do with anything?”

   “Everything. You and him . . . what the two of you had, you and I can’t have. You don’t love me, (y/n), but in your grief you have convinced yourself that you do. Stop lying to yourself.”

   (y/n) scoffs, shakes her head, and extends her arms so that her palms press against her knees. “I don’t know where this is coming from. Have I done something?”

   “No. I did.” Swallowing hard, Cass dulls the edge off his perception of her mental waves and forces the words to fall from his mouth. “I told him to do it. I told Dean to leave you, to break your heart, actually.”

   “Break my heart . . . what?”

   “He loves you. I used that against him. I told him we were married and that you did it against your will. I told him what the angels would do to him if he stayed with you, and he fought me. He said he didn’t care about himself and that he would endure torture to be with you. And then I told him what they would do to you. In the end I convinced him to end things, and he did it perfectly. You were hurt so badly that you came running to me, and Heaven was pleased with it. But Dean loves you. Whatever he said is a lie. He loves you.”

   Through all of this, (y/n) remains silent, stoic. Her mouth forms a tight line, her posture is stiff, and her eyes are unreadable. If she’s breathing, then it’s imperceptible.

   “He loves you, and I’m sorry,” Castiel adds lamely, searching her face, lightly feeling the muddled emotions in her head. “I am so sorry.”

   The emotion in her voice is clear. “Get out.”

   He stands immediately, suddenly very scared of her. “(y/n), I never meant to-”

   “Get out.”

READ PART TWELVE HERE

@pureawesomeness001 @27bmm @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @super-not-naturall @gabriel-themightysugaraddict @kiwi-pop @coffeekeyboardsss @erikafierce @kdfrqqg @riversong-sam @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @peaceloveancolor @4401lnc @mogaruke @little-castiel13

[lesbiansirius]

mutual(s) pining

a work brought to you by bunfox productions, aka yours truly and @lesbianremus! you can also read it on ao3, right here. big thanks to the lovely @nachodiablo who looked it over for us!

this is a prompt fill for the weekly prompt at @introvert-club. this week it was “internet crush”. anyone is welcome to participate, and use the tag #wolfstar introvert prompt for us to see! enjoy :) 

Some days, scrolling Tumblr is pretty boring. A flower, a transparent backpack, a dejected joke about depression, a dead Soundcloud link, nothing to inspire. Sirius is hunched over their laptop, watching the screen with their chin resting on their hand. A long discourse post they can’t be arsed to read, gifs from a show they don’t watch, and then.

Inspiration strikes.

It strikes in the form of two selfies. The person in them is standing in a sunny garden, curls spilling out from under a snapback, and smiling with their eyes closed. You can see lilacs blooming in the background. The person has freckles and a t-shirt with a whale on it, featuring the text “I’m a little overWHALEmed”. Same, Sirius thinks.

They click follow without even looking at the blog.

Remus squints at the tiny, seemingly innocuous, line of text on her dashboard. It’s sandwiched between a masterpost of transfeminine resources Lily’s reblogged (tagged #dead useful tbh #remus i told u joining tumblr wld be worth it) and a post from one of Lily’s friends about how Glinda the Good Witch is trans agenda (shows up at the beginning of Act 2 with a new name).

padfoot has started following you

Who the fuck is padfoot?

Remus quickly opens a new chat, typing in Lily’s url. She had made Lily show her how to do this chat business first, after changing the aesthetically horrifying default blog layout.

do u kno a padfoot

Lily, eternally both awake and online, replies immediately.

wtf is a padfoot

oooh hang on actually i think i do

???

ya they’re one of my mutuals. mostly posts vids of them singing and reblogs pics of animals, iirc

why are they following me??? i don't want to be followed!!

remus chill ffs. it’s not like stalking. they just see ur posts

i dont even have any posts! well except those pics marlene took that u INSISTED i put up here

ur welcome. i bet they think ur hot ;) ;)

hilarious.

remus when will u accept ur cute n give the people what they want!! (more selfies)

im unfollowing u

my dash would be more appealing w just the staff blog posts

im ignoring ur paltry attempts at threats. also, i just went and looked and ya i had the right person. u should check out their vids

why

its polite 2 at least LOOK at someone's blog if they follow u!! honestly remus my 86 yr old grandma is more social media savvy than u

Remus chooses not to reply to that. She does click on padfoot’s blog, though. Not because Lily suggested it, just because she’s curious. What about some boring pictures of her in a garden screamed ‘good content’ to this stranger? Maybe they’re really fond of lilacs, or something.

“What the fuck?” Remus says, glaring at the still shots of the youtube videos embedded on the page in front of her. Whoever padfoot is, they’re apparently unfairly attractive. Remus clicks play on the first video, half-hoping they’re an appalling singer to make up for the ridiculously good looks.

Two hours later, Remus’ phone buzzes, jolting her out of her Tumblr coma and back into reality.

did u die? Lily wants to know. Remus calls her.

“Why would you assume I’m dead?”

“I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes, asshole.”

“Oh,” Remus looks guiltily down at the headphones she’d put on three videos in.

“Well come open the door,” Lily gripes. “We’re late.”

*

“Can we be late for a thing that we scheduled between the two of us?” Remus points out, as Lily tugs her down the stairs. “You barely even gave me time to put on proper clothes,” she complains.

“We said pub at five. It’s not my fault you weren’t ready.”

“Actually,” Remus says with a self-righteous sniff, “it was. You’re the one who told me to check out padfoot’s blog.”

Lily pauses, looking over at Remus.

“Yeah, three hours ago.”

“Two and a half,” Remus mutters.

“Wow,” Lily smirks. “I knew they’d be your type.”

“Shut up,” Remus grumbles. “We’re going to be late for Weekly Lion’s Den Bitch & Moan.”

“I thought it was impossible to be late for something we scheduled between the two of us,” Lily says mockingly.

Remus walks off without her, ignoring the sound of Lily’s cackles following her down the street.

*

Sirius straightens up from the computer and looks for James. He’s in downward dog position in the kitchen area, because of course.

“Hey,” they say, “quick question.”

“I’ve told you a million times not to interrupt me while my arse is reaching for the sky.” James sounds a little strained, but he still manages to get in a sigh.

Sirius groans. “This is important!”

“More important than my spiritual health?” But James walks slowly into a forward fold, and Sirius waits for him to get upright, one vertebrae at a time. They tap their fingers against their laptop.

James reaches his hands up towards the sun – or in this case, the orange plastic lamp in their kitchen – then finally gives Sirius attention.

“Okay, what’s the quick question?”

“How long should you be mutuals with someone before casually striking up a friendship?” It’s probably not causal to even ask that literally two minutes after the person follows you back, but whatever.

James rolls up his mat and chuckles. “You’re talking to me, literally the least casual person this side of the equator.”

Sirius frowns. They’re used to James always giving advice. Admittedly, sometimes it’s bad advice, but nonetheless.

“You mean I have to use my own judgment? Eh.”

“When I’m your manager you’ll never have to do that,” James jokes.

Sirius doesn’t reply; they’re actually checking out the pretty stranger’s blog now. The title is ‘why are they forcing me to have a title’ and the bio just says ‘she/her’. The pictures are the only thing on the blog. Well, that didn’t exactly help. Tumblr friendships are usually based on mutual interest. Maybe they could strike up a conversation about lilacs?

“Okay, well, thanks for nothing,” they tell James. “I have nothing to go on, my crops are dying, and I haven’t even posted a video in a week.”

“But your crop tops are fine.” James winks and slumps down next to Sirius, looking over their shoulder at the mysterious whale person. “Wow, pretty.”

“I know! The only good thing on Tumblr today. I need more!”

“You need chill,” James says firmly. “Wanna go to the pub?”

Sirius closes the laptop decisively. “Always.”

“Let me change, I’ll be ready in a few.” James gets up, giving Sirius an unnecessarily detailed view of his ass in yoga pants. “And you should put on one of those crop tops.”

“But remember the last time you went out in yoga pants.” Sirius grins. “Worked out well, didn’t it?”

James shakes his head. “Not tonight, honey, I’m tired.”

“It’s hard work being popular.” Sirius shrugs.

They do take James’ advice to change into a crop top, because even if James isn’t up to being hit on, Sirius could use the validation. And they look fucking awesome in a crop top and fishnets.

It’s just a few days after payday, and the time of day when people are off work, so they only barely manage to get the last free booth. Sirius sits down on the edge of the sofa, strategically placing one leg over the other so they’re visible to the people who pass by. It might not be a whale pun or lilacs, but Sirius’ legs rarely fail them.

James returns with an ale for Sirius and his own awful lager with cordial in it. The pink makes it look pretty, but that’s its only redeeming feature in Sirius’ opinion. James sighs happily when he takes the first sip, though.

“Did I tell you about that movie I found the other day? It’s like a comedy about vampires and werewolves, it’s amazing.”

Sirius listens to James try to explain it, and they then spend a considerable amount of time discussing various vampire questions. Do they get boners, and how? Can vampires be vegan? Are there vampires working night jobs that no one knows about?

Their stomach is hurting from laughing by the time Sirius gets up to get a second round. When they get back, James isn’t alone.

*

Remus pushes the door open to The Drunk Carnation, holding it politely for Lily, in spite of what a pain she’s being today. It is Lily’s turn to buy the drinks, which cheers Remus up slightly. At least if she’s going to be mocked she can do it over some semi-expensive alcohol.

Once they’re seated, Remus quickly changes the subject away from Tumblr.

“So how’s your acting class going?”

“Pretty well,” Lily says, sipping at her Seven and Seven. “That creep still won’t stop asking me out.”

“I thought you were going to ask the cute clumsy one to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

Lily shrugs.

“I still might. It’s sort of hilarious watching him work up the nerve to talk to me, though. I’m not sure if I want to put him out of his misery yet.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Lily Evans.”

“Anyway,” Lily says, shrugging off what she probably considers a compliment, “you aren’t getting off that easy. What did you think of padfoot?”

Remus groans, dropping her forehead onto the table and nearly tipping over her can of PBR.

“They’re fine,” she grumbles.

“Someone’s got a crush,” Lily sing-songs. “Hang on.” Her tone of voice changes slightly, and Remus looks up, following her line of sight. She recognizes when Lily’s ‘cute person’ radar is going off. “Weirdly,” Lily continues, looking back at Remus, “that’s him. They guy from acting class.”

“Oh,” Remus frowns. “The creepy one or the one you’ve set your cap for?”

Lily snorts.

“The latter, Jane Austen.” Remus smiles over the top of her beer, but doesn’t reply. Lily looks oddly hesitant for a moment, before her expression clears. “We’re going to go say hi,” she says firmly. Remus groans, but let’s Lily tug her to her feet. “Oh stop moaning,” Lily says.

“I thought this was a dedicated romance-free evening,” Remus says self-righteously.

“It’s just a hello.” Lily strikes a pose as soon as they’re alongside the table, cocking one hip and tilting her head flirtatiously. “James. Fancy seeing you here.”

The man at the table starts slightly, looking up from his phone. He widens his eyes and nearly drops the poor phone into his drink.

“Lily? Oh. Wow, hi. Hello.” Remus stifles a smile as James glances over at her. “Erm,” he says, getting awkwardly to his feet and holding out a hand. “I’m James.”

“Remus.”

“Nice to meet you,” James says politely, before his eyes drift inevitably back over to Lily. “Would you two like to sit?”

Lily looks over at Remus, raising an eyebrow. Remus sighs inwardly, resigning herself to a dull evening of playing third wheel. She knows Lily will go back to their table without protest if Remus asks her to, but she can also see that Lily is more interested in James than her conversation about him had let on.

“Sure,” Remus says, sliding into one side of the booth. She sits on the end, so Lily and James are forced to sit next to each other. Lily grins at her from across the table, and James looks to be a strange combination of thrilled and alarmed.

Remus is just trying to think of a way to excuse herself to give the two of them some time to talk, when someone else approaches the booth.

“I leave for two minutes and you’ve already replaced me,” the person says, heaving a dramatic sigh. Remus just barely manages not to jerk up her head, but she’s staring so intently at her beer that it’s possible she looks like some sort of deranged beer label design student.

Oh no, Remus thinks. I recognize that voice. James is babbling out some kind of protest and Remus’ stomach clenches up. Have we interrupted some kind of date?

Fortunately, Lily quickly takes charge.

“You’re too late. He’s mine now,” she says with a grin. James looks like he’s struggling not to combust on the spot, and Remus stifles a laugh. She’s grateful Lily’s given her a moment to get her equilibrium back. The stranger, padfoot, Remus’ brain helpfully supplies, slides into the booth next to Remus. She turns, friendly expression carefully propped up on her face, and smiles.

“Hello. I’m Remus. The extremely rude one across the way is Lily.”

“Cheers,” Lily says, sipping her drink.

“Sirius,” padfoot says with a grin, holding out a hand. Remus shakes it, trying not to look terribly star-struck.

I can be chill about this, she tells herself firmly. A tiny voice in the back of her mind is screaming that’s a GIANT lie, Lupin. Sirius is even cuter in person and they’re right there, nearly touching her and they smell really nice and it’s horribly distracting. She can’t even escape to the bar to get her head together because Sirius has just brought new drinks and Remus is now trapped against the wall.

“So,” she says a bit desperately, “how do you two know each other?”

Lily, who has apparently decided she’s fulfilled her helpfulness quotient for the year, just smirks at Remus over her drink and lets her flounder.

*

“How don’t we know each other?” Sirius waggles their eyebrows and grins. They then want to punch their own face.

James laughs nervously and glances at Lily. She is pretty, but he’s pathetic. Unlike Sirius, who’s the epitome of coolness right about now.

Remus looks a little pink. It’s adorable. “Oh, were you on a–”

“I beg you not to finish that sentence,” James cuts in. “Sirius is just being a dick. We know each other from school, way back.”

“Clearly this school thing is the way to meet people,” Remus says. Sirius laughs, possibly more than the joke warrants.

But Remus is wearing another t-shirt with whales, and is so beautiful, and Sirius feels like bursting into song. They’re lucky Remus and Lily didn’t turn up after a couple more beers.

“I like your shirt,” they say and nod towards Remus’ chest.

Remus looks down on her beer and giggles. “Whale whale whale,” she says, then looks up. “Get it?”

Lily groans on the other side of the table, but Sirius laughs again. They can’t seem to help it. This person is their kryptonite. “That’s funny. Do you have more of these?”

Remus tells them about the overWHALEmed t-shirt and Sirius pretends not to already know about it. James casts a smug glance at Sirius every now and then, but he looks too nervous himself to be gloating.

“What do you do for fun?” Remus asks, turned to Sirius, her leg almost touching their skin through the fishnets.

“I like singing,” Sirius says. “But it’s not too serious.”

“Ha–” Remus starts, and Sirius groans and buries their head in their arms. “Sorry,” Remus adds quickly. “I’m sure you get that a lot.”

“You have no idea.” Sirius lifts their head again and smiles. “Anyway. What do you like?”

Remus hesitates. “I write,” she says. “But nothing too– er, consequential.”

“Nice save.” Sirius braves nudging her arm with their elbow, and Remus looks at them and smiles.

Sirius doesn’t want to look away. Remus smiles like she’s holding back a much bigger smile, giving the impression that there’s just too much sunshine in her to contain. Sirius spills over.

“I followed you on Tumblr earlier today,” they blurt out. “I liked your selfies.”

Remus goes red. That was the last reaction Sirius had anticipated, but it’s not terrible. “I know,” she admits. “I don’t understand why, though.”

Because you’re beautiful. “They were very aesthetically pleasing pictures,” Sirius improvises. “I was so uninspired and then I saw them and it was good content, what can I say.”

Remus is shaking her head. “Not as good as your singing.”

“You checked out my blog?” At this point, the point where their arms are touching feels like burning, but it’d be weird to move now. Also, Sirius doesn’t want to.

“I don’t have more than ten followers, of course I get curious,” Remus says defensively. She’s not moving her arm, either.

“Really?!” Tumblr really is a hellsite. Remus, no more than ten followers? Atrocious.

“Yes?” Remus looks puzzled.

“You don’t want more?” Sirius is grappling with this concept.

“Not really.” Remus shrugs. “Anyway, I listened to a bunch of your songs, and I really liked them. You should be the one with more followers.”

“Thank you.” Sirius doesn’t know what else to say.

Lily clears her throat. “Excuse me for interrupting what I’m sure would have been an incredibly drawn out flirting process, but I’d like my best friend back, so if you could just exchange numbers now that’d be great.”

Sirius makes a surprised exhale, and Remus moves her arm back at lightning speed. “I will murder you,” she says calmly.

Lily just smiles at her. “Sure, but let’s get drinks first.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus mutters. “May I get out?”

Sirius gets up and gives way, watching with amusement at how James tries not to die when Lily passes him in closer proximity than he could possibly have hoped to have her. They say goodbye, and Lily and Remus start walking away before Sirius finds their bearings.

“Wait!” They take a few long steps to catch up. “Actually, Remus, I’d like that number, if you want to give it to me.”

Remus raises her eyebrows and her mouth opens slightly. How she’s making “flummoxed” look hot, Sirius has no idea.

“Sure, yeah.”

Lily looks extremely smug as they exchange numbers. Sirius is not looking forward to the look on James’ face when they get back to him.

Remus gives them one last barely-contained smile before her and Lily leave, for real this time.

Sirius looks at their phone and starts laughing. Remus saved her number as ‘whale endowed’.

Yes, Sirius has definitely been struck by inspiration.

[bloodywhisperlove]

Addicted to the Abyss Vampire Serial Part 12: Mullo

Mal was panting, his blood-so watery and thin-ran in rivulets down his arms and legs, dropped into her mouth. SHE had him hanging from the ceiling on hooks made of bent metal pipes. No doubt her pet made those for her. It was strong enough to bend metal, no problem.

The ends of them stuck through his chest, right below the collar bones. It skewered muscle, nothing else. It was done on purpose. To hurt him. To make him scream. Not to kill him, but to give him pain.

He was covered in bite marks, his arms and legs. The bites were puffed up, the edges black, like the tissue was infected and dying off.

A quick glance told me that he still had all his extremities. All his fingers and toes, even his cock and balls were intact. Bitten, but still there.

SHE was lying lazily across a table, like it was a chaise lounge, and Mal was a group of grapes she was plucking from and popping into her mouth.

He was naked, pale, shivering, eyes wide, his fear so strong I could taste it in the air.

It smelled so good.

Made me hungry.

I wiped the drool off my lips.

I was standing in the doorway to the room. It was where they used to have all those old computers, but was nothing more than empty rusted space now.

Piles of human bones surrounded the table. This is where SHE ate. It was HER dining room.

Old blood crusted dark on the floor, making the rust spots look bright in comparison.

The room was a big circle.

She was wearing the same tattered gray dress she had on when she attacked me. Her hair, black and mattered from dirt and blood, shaggy hung over her shoulders. Her mouth was too wide, crowded with teeth, cut up into her cheeks like a shark’s mouth.

Her gaze was lidded, cool. She was smiling. Enjoying herself.

I was terrified.

My palms were sweating. I wiped them off on my pants.

Mal looked up, as though he sensed me, but he couldn’t see me. It was too dark. All he could’ve seen would have been a pair of red eyes in the dark below him, and another pair in the open doorway.

“Jonah?” he said, voice weak, soft. It made my heart ache. He was in so much pain.

Mullo cocked her head, curious, and then rotated 350 degrees like an owl it to look my way. Her neck vertebrae cracked as she did it. I made a face in disgust.

“Ah….yeth. At lath-t,” Mullo said and licked her lips. Her tongue was long, more of a serpents tongue than a human one anymore. It was purple with black tip, slender and forked.

Her S’s were a th sound, like her tongue and the shape of her teeth gave her a lisp. I didn’t remember that. Maybe she had changed since last I saw her.

She turned her head back to it’s normal position by twisting her body around on the table. She was tall, taller than I remembered. Close to 7 feet--just like the tusked vamp she had sicced on me.

Her arms and legs were long, thin, but stronger than they looked. Her ribs and spine stuck out of her back--I could see it through the thin dress material.

Her fingers, spindly, ended in needle points; thin, sharp nails. Same with her toes. Her feet and hands were elongated, with extra joints, just like my new foot had grown longer.

She probably lost them at one point or another and they grew back.

I gripped the vampire hunter’s knife tight enough for the handle leather to make a sound.

“You killed Marco,” she said in disdain, like I had killed her pet goldfish. No attachment, just annoyance.

“Didn’t stick around to watch him die. Good to know he’s gone. Fucker had it coming.”

She hissed, stood up, towered over me, slender, powerful, a black aura of hate and rage spilling off her. I could see it, a black cloud filling the air. I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating or not.

“Let him go,” I said, my voice guttural, almost growling--a dark, gravelly edge to it that surprised me. I tried not to let it show.

“You think I lured you here, just to let you keep your little plaything? Are you that dense?”

“I’m pretty stupid. Must be, to come all the way down here into your lair like this. Now, let him go, or I will kill you.”

She laughed--it was an ugly, bitter, hair-raising sound. Cold, unfeeling, as though it was a practiced sound that had no true emotion behind it anymore.

“You? Kill me? Jonah, I MADE you.”

“And?” I asked and slowly stepped into the room, bones crunching under my bare feet.

“I can make you do anything I want.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh? You hear my voice all the time. Egging you on to kill and murder all those people. You are so good at that. Making them scream before you drink your fill.” 

She ran her freakishly long, pointed fingers down Mal’s chest, and across his waist, lingered on a hip, gripped him there, pinpoints of blood welled up under her fingers. She leaned over and licked the blood from him. He shuddered, tried to twist his body away from her and she bit him, hard.

He screamed. His face contorted in pain. The agony…my god. It HURT him to be bit by her. He loved it when I did it, but when she bit him, it actually hurt.

“Stop that,” she said and gently smacked his face with the palm of her hand.

He whimpered and stopped moving. Breath shallow, terrified. Eyes so wide in fear.

The bite mark raised up on his hip, the broken skin puffed and then started turning black. His flesh was dying where her teeth cut into it. It was so fast, like she was killing him, one chomp at a time. Made me incredibly angry. Made me want to cut her up into little pieces and set them on fire.

I limped forward a few steps, her head swiveled in my direction.

“Any closer, and I will gut him in a flick of a wrist. Understand?”

I hissed at her and growled. The sound surprised me.

She smirked.

“Starting to lose yourself? It’s about time.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you to suffer. I want you to lose your mind to the rage. I want to free you from your human desires. I want you to hate everything, as I do.”

“That is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard. And believe me lady, I’ve heard some pretty stupid ass shit.”

“Your mouth is foul. Stop swearing. It doesn’t suit you.”

“You aren’t the boss of me. I’ll say whatever the hell I want, when I want to.”

She smiled, flashed her sharp piranha teeth at me. I ran my tongue over my own. They were just like hers, only shorter, not as bulky. Mine didn’t change the shape of my mouth that much. Hers made her lips protrude--she couldn’t close her mouth all the way now, the pointed ends of her serrated teeth stuck out beneath their edges.

“You’re starting to accept the change, aren’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what you are. You know what you are becoming. You should stop fighting it, it will only make you suffer more. It’s a kindness to yourself, really, to just let it all go. Give in to the darkness inside you, to that animal that keeps taking over. End your misery now, while you still can make a conscious choice to do so.

You keep forgetting who you are, don’t you? You keep forgetting WHAT you are now. You’ve been pretending that you can feel love, that you feel protective over this piece of meat,” she patted Mal on the stomach and he pulled back in revulsion. “Mmm…so tasty,” she said and licked the trickling blood off his chest.

He shuddered, screwed his eyes shut, turned his face away as she wrapped her creepy long fingers around his throat and ran her tongue up the side of his cheek.

“You’re going to kill him one day. You know that. I don’t even have to say it. One day, you’ll devour him whole, just like you did that mercenary.”

I stared at her.

“How did you know that?”

She chuckled. “I can hear him in your head. I can hear all of my children’s thoughts. Your’s have always been messed up, a jumble of sensations and words, but now…now, you have something else there. Something much more dangerous is living in your head now.”

“And what’s that?”

“You have the memories of a sociopath lying in wait. What would happen if, the next time you blacked out, HE took over instead? What would he do? Hmm?”

Shit…

I hadn’t even thought of that.

“I’m not even sure how you managed to do it. It really shouldn’t be possible. But you did. You certainly made a mess of things this time Jonah. I shouldn’t be so surprised though, you were always really good at fucking your life up.”

She was right. Of course she was right. My grip on the knife lessened. I regarded it. It wouldn’t be too hard to end it. I could kill myself with this, rather easily.

“Do it,” she said, her voice in my head. “Kill yourself. End this. You’ve suffered so much. Just DIE already.”

My hand shook as it raised the knife to my chest, over my heart. Tears fell down my face and for the first time in a long time, I cried. Sadness overwhelmed me. I didn’t even know what that was. I didn’t realize that is what I had been really feeling all this time. Not anger. Not fear. Just, an incredible emptiness of despair. I had ruined Mal. I had ruined us. It was all my fault. And now…now, I could stop the cycle, before I hurt anyone else.

“Jonah, don’t listen to her,” Mal whispered. “There’s still a chance. We still have a chance to be together. Please. Don’t give us up just yet.”

“Hush,” she said and dug her thumb into his hip. He cried out in pain. His body was weak, it wouldn’t be able to take much more of it before he either passed out, or had a heart attack.

His screams snapped me out of it. Rage flared up in me, and I was ready to kill her where she stood.

“Leave him alone!” I screamed and leapt at her. She caught me mid-air. I was trying to stab her in the chest, I ended up slicing the inside of her arm instead. She hissed and dropped me and I scrambled to my feet on the other side of the table.

“You dare!” she said and knocked the table aside as though it weighed nothing and grabbed at me. I rolled out-of-the-way, over the piles of bones.

The sharp end of a broken femur pierced my arm. I rolled up and ripped it out and threw it, pointed end first, right at her head. She caught it and crushed it with one hand and dropped the pieces.

“Why do you fight me? I made you. I OWN you!” You’re mine! Mine! Not his! MINE!”

“You own nothing. You’re nothing but a monster. An empty black space. A void.”

“You will do as I say!” she screamed in my head. It was so loud, so painful, I dropped to my knees, put my hands over my ears.

“Jonah!” Mal yelled.

I looked up just as her hands wrapped around my throat.

“Kill you! I’ll kill you,” she said and snapped my neck. My body went limp. I couldn’t move.

Fuck.

She tossed me on the table. Picked up the knife, held it over my face.

“This is a very useful toy. I will keep it.”

I tried to speak, but couldn’t.

She chuckled.

“Oh the hatred in your eyes. So lovely.” She ran her sharp fingers over my cheek, an almost loving gesture.

I could move a couple of my fingers on my left hand, that was it. I could blink, and move my jaw, but I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t move anything else.

I closed my eyes.

This is it.

I am going to die here.

She is going to kill me, and then kill Mal.

That’s what she wanted.

That’s why she lured me here.

Now Mullo is going to get her way.

I felt Mal moving…somehow. I opened my eyes. Could barely see him, he was almost out of my peripheral vision where he was hanging from the ceiling above us.

He was reaching up, trying to figure out how to get off the hooks. He looked around, his eyes lit up. He saw something. I couldn’t move my head to figure out what though.

“I never should’ve let you out of my sight Jonah. If I had known that you were going to become like me, I wouldn’t have let you survive the attack. I would’ve ripped your heart out and ate it in the alleyway.”

"Sucks to be you," I thought.

She narrowed her eyes. They were red--the whole thing. No whites, no black in it like the other vamp. Just blood-red and glowing.

“I heard that.”

I smirked. It was all I could do, until my neck healed. The vertebrae were starting to slowly shift back to their normal position. It felt awful, like they were tiny gerbils crawling under my skin. Made me grind my teeth and hiss in a breath.

“Not only did you become like me, you made a human pet. You soul-bonded with a living mortal man. That is unacceptable. WE don’t do things like that.”

“Why?” I thought to her.

“We don’t soul-bond with living things. Only dead ones. Otherwise, you end up with this situation. A human craving your bite, addicted to being fed on by you, and one that my broodlings can’t enjoy for food. You TAINTED his body Jonah. I am sorely disappointed.”

"So why not just kill him and be done with it?"

She leaned forward, pressed her forehead against mine, forced me to stare into her blood filled eyes. Tiny green veins stood out in them like little worms.

Her breath was rank, smelled of rotting flesh and decay.

“Because I want you both to suffer, that’s why.”

Ah.

She dug her fingers into my arms until the sharp needle nails scraped against the bone. I shuddered.

It hurt. So much.

She moved her fingers inside my arms, scraping this way and that against the bone. It was worse than scraping my nails against a chalkboard. The vibration ran up my arms, into my skull, where the pain just hit me and I started to scream.

My head moved back, lolled side to side, my neck realigned with my spine in the process, clicking audibly, making me see white stars from the pain. It was horrible.

I couldn’t think. All I could do was scream and howl. My legs began to twitch as the nerves reconnected and healed over.

She pulled down, cutting deep gouges through my biceps muscles.

“Yes. Scream for me. Scream!”

“Fuck you!” I spat at her, tried to get free, and she grabbed onto the bones, inside my arms, through the flesh. She just cut through it all like it was room temperature Jell-O and gripped the bones, snapped them in half, and ripped off the lower parts of my arms. She tossed them back, and they hit the wall in a fleshy, wet slap before landing on the floor in the piles of bones.

It hurts! It hurts!

I screamed until my throat was raw.

Mal was yelling at her, furious. Even drained as he was, he still had enough energy left to do that. He struggled to get free. He wanted to kill her for hurting me.

She laughed, and laughed and laughed, and I wanted to die.

She started clawing into my stomach, and pulling out my insides, my pale white guts slippery in her hands, like giant worms. I coughed up blood, and whatever remained in my stomach, it was a mess of black ooze and red chunks of human meat.

“Ohhh…what’s this? Been eating your food whole, have you?” she asked, and skewered a chunk with a finger and held it up. “Even I don’t stoop that low. You are nothing more than an animal.”

Mal fell from the ceiling above us. She looked at the floor in disdain, then back to me.

“Your pet fell down. Should I help him up?”

I moaned. Tried to scoop up my guts but my hands were gone, I was just moving bloody stumps in front of me.

She tsked and tossed my innards at me. They heavily slapped on my chest. They were moving, like worms, pulling slowly back into my body. If it didn’t hurt so much, I would’ve been fascinated by it.

I couldn’t see very far at the moment, the pain for some reason made my eyesight weak. I was surrounded by black nothingness. Cold, alone, I shuddered, and prayed for a death that wouldn’t come.

I wanted to die.

I actually wanted to die.

That made me panic.

I started hyperventilating. Scared. So scared. A pit in my stomach, swallowed me whole. The room narrowed to a small pinpoint of dim light.

No. No. NO! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!

I won’t! I won’t go! I won’t!

Someone slapped my face, hard.

I blinked. My face stung.

“Get a hold of yourself. You’re embarrassing me in front of your food.”

Tears fell down my cheeks, cold and wet.

I was sobbing uncontrollably.

I was scared.

So scared.

I didn’t want to die.

I didn’t want to live.

What did I even want?

What did I want?

Why was I even here?

Why did this happen to me? To us?

Why?

Then, I remembered.

The memory flooded my senses and it was like I was there, all over again. Reliving it.

We were at a swanky night club. Mal had ordered us drinks. We were hanging out at the bar, the music thudding around us. Hot gay boys sweating and grinding in the dim light, we were getting a little too old to come here, but it was where we met, so we wanted to have one last night at the club before we left town.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming here,” I said. He flashed me a brilliant smile--a smile that made me fall in love with him several years ago.

“I have my moments,” Mal said and handed me a drink. We walked over to the booths that lined the walls and grabbed a seat. We sat in the middle of the U-shaped booth, cuddling, drinking, smoking, watching young couples hook up and make out.

It was fun.

Mal leaned over, said in my ear, “I can’t wait to take you home.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Isn’t that my line?”

“Not tonight. Hey, I’ll be right back. Drank too much.”

“Sure…”

I watched him go, and the smile fell from my face. I wasn’t very happy, but I was trying to make it a nice night for him, so I was faking it.

We were celebrating his new job. High paying, great benefits, they were even going to pay for him to move out to Colorado. I didn’t really want to go, but I was happy for him, so I didn’t say anything.

I’d be leaving my family, my friends, the life I built here before I met him behind. I was trying very hard to convince myself that it was worth it, and decided not to tell him that I didn’t want to go. I’d love it once I got there. I knew that the sadness I felt was more from being nervous about living so far away from where I grew up than anything else. At least, that is what I told myself.

Mal left his phone on the table. I couldn’t hear it ringing over the blasting dance music, but I saw the screen light up.

A text message flashed in the notification bar on the lock screen, “Hey cutie! Heard about the job. Congrats! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow night. I bought something to play with, just for you. Think of it as a going away present.”

What the fuck?

I unlocked his phone, opened up his messages. The guy’s name was Brett. He had texted him for weeks. They made plans to hook up, on the nights when Mal said that he was working extra late and to not wait up for him.

Brett sent him several dick pics, and others where he was inserting various toys in his ass.

The last message had an image attached. It was a ball-gag.

Mal told me he wasn’t into that kinky stuff. Guess he lied about that too.

I was so mad, I was shaking. Tears blurred my vision. I looked at his other text messages from other guys. Brett wasn’t the only one he was seeing.

“What you doing?” Mal asked. He stood at the end of the booth, looking a little pale.

I threw his phone at him. He caught it before it fell to the floor.

“I think I should be asking you that. I thought you said we were monogamous. What the fuck is that shit huh?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit. I saw the texts Mal.”

“What?”

“Brett just sent you one while you went to take a leak. Just a little tip, next guy you date, don’t leave your phone with him if you’re hooking up with tricks on the side. That way he won’t get curious and find out what you’ve been doing behind his back.”

“Jonah, I can explain.”

“Oh? This ought to be good.”

I stood up, folded my arms--otherwise I would’ve punched him.

College boys shoved their ways past us as they went to the dance floor. It was getting super crowded in there.

“I can’t believe you would do that. Why would you invade my privacy like that?”

“You wanted me to

move

across the country and

live

with you, and I can’t look at your phone? Come on Mal. I’m not that stupid.”

“OK, so I had a few nights out. What’s the big deal? It’s just sex. They didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Just. Sex? Just sex?! You know what? That’s it. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I put up with you being busy for months while you finished med school. I tolerated your long shifts at the hospital. I didn’t even bitch about us not having sex for two months, but this? You doing that, and not coming to me for it? You think that I would just roll over and ignore it?”

“No. No I didn’t. I just…I thought this would be a chance for us to get away from that, start over. New life. The whole thing.”

“If you’re doing that

here

, you’re going to do that no matter where you are. No. I…I can’t do this any more Mal.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m breaking up with you. We’re finished. You put the nail in that coffin. Not me. You did.”

“No, please, come on. We can work this out,” he grabbed my arm.

I shoved him from me.

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted and ran out, shoving past people, trying to hold in the tears until I got away from the crowd. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry. I just wanted out.

My whole world shattered in an instant. He didn’t come after me. He didn’t run into the street and shout for me to stop. He didn’t do anything.

That’s how I knew it was over.

I gave up so much, and he just threw it all away.

Sobbing, I ran away from the main street, I just wanted to run and run and never look back.

And then, I turned the corner to the alleyway. It started pouring rain.

I ran right into a tall thin woman and apologized. She turned around, grabbed me by the arms.

I screamed as she lifted me straight up into the air, slammed me down on the pavement and leapt on me. Claws digging into my arms as she ripped my throat out with her teeth.

"Oh God. I’m going to die. I’m going to die here,"

I thought.

I didn’t want to die.

I just kept thinking in a panic that I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to die. I was terrified of it, of just…ending.

She drank her fill, and when she saw that I was struggling to stay awake, she smiled.

“Don’t worry little one. I won’t let you die. I’ll let you be like me. Forever, and ever, and ever.”

She slit open her own wrist and forced me to drink her burning hot tar blood.

"I hate the living. I hate you. Soon, you will be like me. You will hate the living as well.”

I screamed until my throat was raw, my veins were on fire, everything on fire. My body was dying.

I didn’t want to die. I didn’t! I refused to go. I could’ve, but I didn’t. I pushed myself back from the brink of death somehow, and then blacked out from the pain.

I came to and threw up, and she was gone and I was in a dark place, hiding from the sun. I was hungry. My stomach was empty and in pain, like I had starved for days, even though it had only really been a few hours.

I went to stand up and searing hot pain flooded my body. My torso was sliced open. It forced me out of reliving the memory. It ended and I was thrown back into that dark, cold room again.

Mullo loomed over me.

I was getting hungry.

So very hungry.

My stomach growled.

It was hard to think.

Soon, I would black out.

I could feel it coming on.

It frightened me.

I didn’t want to forget anymore. I didn’t want to wake up after I killed and ate my fill.

I just wanted to black out and never, ever wake up again.

“Ah. You recall that now. I was beginning to wonder. You know, you were by far the most delicious man I ever ate. Your pain and sorrow?” she closed her eyes and shuddered. “So yummy. I wanted to keep you around, as a reward for being such a good meal. Looks like I was too generous, seeing as how you aren’t like the others I’ve turned.”

“Why? Why aren’t I like them? Why do I keep forgetting things?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea little one. Perhaps it is part of your curse.”

“My curse?”

The ends of my arms, the bleeding raw stumps, were starting to tingle, I could feel the sinew and muscle and bone grow back. My innards finished crawling back inside of my stomach and the skin grew over it, thin, pale, white, covered in veins. Almost see-through. It was gross.

“Either your mind is genuinely Swiss cheese or you have discovered absolutely nothing about your condition. Ah, ah, ah! None of that,” she said and kicked at something on the floor. A man grunted in pain. She kicked someone who was crawling towards her.

Who was down there?

Did I know?

Should I know?

What am I forgetting?

I had the feeling that it was incredibly important to me, but I couldn’t remember what the hell it was.

A man cried out, I heard bones snap under her foot.

“Stay where you are like a good dog, or I’ll break your other hand. Understood?”

“Yes,” someone said, quivering in pain.

His voice.

I know that voice.

Where did I know it from?

Who is that?

She saw the confusion on my face and laughed.

“Oh, this is too precious. You forgot him already? What is it? Out of sight, out of mind?”

“Who’s down there?”

“Just an old friend of yours. No one overly important.”

The man on the floor, I craned my head to see who it was and she stood in front of him, blocking the view.

“See?” she said to him. "He doesn’t even remember you. How can someone love you if they can’t remember your name, let alone your face?”

“He’ll remember. He always does.”

“Who is that?” I asked. I felt the panic threatening to take over again. “Who’s down there? Who are you?”

“Jonah, it’s me. it’s Mallory.” His voice soft, pained. “Try to remember. Please.”

He was crying.

His name was Mallory.

She smiled, showing off her wide mouth, those awful huge sharp-pointed teeth.

“And this is how you both shall die, one pathetically begging to be remembered, the other trying to figure out why he forgot him to begin with.”

“What are you saying?” Mallory asked.

“Why do you think he forgot about you? Forgot himself? You think it was just a fluke? Oh no. He wanted to forget. He wanted to lose himself in the madness, in the frenzy of bloodlust. He didn’t want to think about you. About what you did to him. How you hurt him so badly.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said.

I struggled to keep my eyes open. I was tired, hungry, and in pain. I just wanted to sleep, to slip back into that black abyss and never wake up.

She slapped my face again, startled me awake.

“Stop that. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Just kill me and get this over with,” I said, miserable. I was so sad, so scared; I couldn’t take it any longer. I just wanted it all to end.

“Fine. If that is what you truly want, I shall,” she said and got on the table, straddling me with her knees.

“Thank you,” I said and closed my eyes. Braced myself for death. I was terrified. I didn’t want to die. But the pain, it was too much. I couldn’t deal with it any more. My heart ached, there was a huge lump in my throat; the sorrow; the pain; the memories; the hunger; the suffering. It was cruel. Best to just let her end it than keep on like this. Right?

"No."

Mallory’s thoughts came to me.

"I won’t let it end. Not like this."

I heard him struggle to his feet. She ignored him. She was intent on my reactions now.

“So afraid aren’t you? Don’t worry, it’ll be a blessing, not existing. There will be nothing there. Nothing at all. No pain, no sorrow, no heartache, no forgetting. Just, nothingness. The abyss and nothing more. Blacker than black. No thoughts. No feelings. No memories. Nothing at all,” she purred. She was enjoying it, saying those things.

They drove an ice dagger of fear into my chest and squeezed. I panicked, bucked under her weight as she slowly pushed her razor sharp fingers into my chest. She ripped out some ribs, cracking them and tossing them aside like they were flimsy fish bones and wrapped her grotesque hand around my heart.

“It’s still beating. Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” I said, tears slipping down my cheeks. I sobbed. I didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not ever. I didn’t want to go. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t. I wanted to live.

“Mine stopped doing that decades ago. Why is yours still beating? Do you know?”

I shook my head, not sure what to say. I was waiting for the end of it all. I was waiting for the Abyss to welcome me into her cold, uncaring arms. I was waiting for the nothingness to envelop me and destroy me utterly until not even a single shred of thought or feeling or sensation remained. I waited. And trembled and sobbed.

So fucking scared.

Why was I scared? Wasn’t I already dead?

A warm hand on the table, near my foot. I could feel the heat radiating off it. Mullo was too engrossed in teasing me, in making me terrified. She didn’t notice that Mallory stood up behind her.

I remembered then, who he was to me. He was my Mal. He had brown eyes. He was the reason I came here. I was trying to save him. I couldn’t die. Not until I finished it.

I saw a flash of the vampire hunter’s knife, I could hear it hum.

Maybe he would kill us both and end it.

That would be nice.

To die in his arms. For his face to be the last thing I see.

That wouldn’t be so bad.

Right?

Right?

She licked the tears off my face. Her tongue rough, bumpy. Slimy. Disgusting.

“I can taste your fear. Makes me want to eat you all over again. Too bad I can’t.”

She caressed my heart. I jerked away from her sharp fingers, the pain was intense.

Mal slowly, softly, was moving closer, step by step, until he could reach her back with the knife.

She was having too much fun, and he knew it. He was trying to hit her hard in one go of it. He knew she’d lash out, and he wouldn’t get a second chance.

“Or maybe I can eat you again…I never tried it, honestly. Maybe your fear would make your disgusting black blood tolerable. Should I try it?”

“Just kill me already. What are you waiting for? Huh? Just do it!” I screamed. I was going from intense fear to rage, back and forth, back and forth. It was exhausting.

She made a face. “So impatient. Fine. Let’s end this already. I’m getting bored of you.”

She let go and bent over the side and picked up a sharp bone and slammed it into my chest, piercing my still beating heart. My body went rigid. I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place.

She smiled and wrapped her fingers around my head and went to twist it off, and that is when Mal struck her.

He shoved the knife through her back, on the left side and she screamed and thrashed. She threw him off, he hit the wall hard and fell in a lump on the floor. She tried to reach around and pull it out but she couldn’t. It was just out of reach of her hands. She struggled, her skin bubbled and boiled as she whipped around this way and that. She knocked me off the table, the bone fell out of my heart, and I could move once again.

I felt like shit. Everything hurt. I gasped over and over and struggled to my feet. My arms and hands had finished growing back. They were a bit clumsy, but they were there. That’s all that mattered.

Globs of black blood oozed out of the gaping wound in my chest and slapped onto the floor as I stood up on wobbling legs.

I could see Mal, unconscious on the floor. Mullo was thrashing around, screaming in rage.

I shuffled over to Mullo and shoved the knife blade deeper, and moved the angle of it down, and she screamed, high pitched, enraged as it pierced her heart.

She fell to the floor, face first, unable to move. I left the knife in her, let her skin bubble and burst open, black blood oozing out of the sores on her back. I looked around, couldn’t find anything to use to cut off her head.

I shrugged to myself and grabbed her head and started twisting it around and around and around and around until it couldn’t go any further, then I pulled.

In an ear shattering scream of pain and rage, her head ripped right off her neck. It twitched, the tongue lashing out. Teeth gnashing together. Eyes rolling around. I slammed it down onto one of the hooks that she had put Mal on, and shoved the hook deep into her skull until it came out the other side. The skull cracked, and the mouth stopped moving. The eyes went dull, stopped shining.

Behind me, a black mass, a dark energy boiled out of her body, blacker than black, a dark shadow of hate and rage. Her soul. That was what remained of her human soul.

I moved so that it couldn’t touch me. It tried to go into her head, but it couldn’t.

The black cloud hissed at me, and was suddenly sucked downward and disappeared into the floor.

Mullo’s body shriveled up, like a mummy, and crumbled to dust. The knife fell to one side.

I picked it up, put it back in the sheath and went over to Mallory.

I knew him.

He was why I was here. Why my heart was beating.

He was my Mal, and I loved him.

I slumped down next to him, grimacing as my chest knit itself back together and the gaping hole closed up. Mal didn't wake up. He was out. She hurt him badly.

I picked up his limp body and slowly made my way out of the missile silo.

The broodlings stayed away from me. They were afraid. They had no one to tell them what to do. Maybe they thought I would boss them around. But I wasn’t interested in that. They were on their own. Whether they survived or not, was on them. I couldn’t care less what they did now.

The crisp winter air woke Mallory up. He was shivering. I was running as fast as I could through the snow covered fields. His lips were turning blue. He clung to me, said he was cold and tired and just wanted to sleep.

That wasn’t good.

I found an abandoned house to break into, and started a fire in the fireplace, and wrapped him up in a faded, torn blanket I found and sat him by the fire until he warmed up.

I lay on the floor next to him, my head in his lap. He kept running his hand through my hair.

It was nice.

“I’m sorry I forgot you.”

“I know.”

“I tried, I really did, to save you.”

“I know.”

I sat up.

“Mal?”

“Yes?”

“I remember the argument now. The one we had at the club? We broke up, didn’t we?”

He pursed his lips, wrapped the old dusty blanket around himself more.

“Yes, we did,” he said, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“I was an ass. It was my fault. This is all my fault,” he said and started to cry. “I was so selfish. I didn’t even think about how you felt. I got everything I wanted, and got cocky about it, and I wanted to tell you, that it wasn’t serious. It meant nothing. It was only sex. Honest.”

I grunted, looked out the window. The sun was just starting to make the night sky blush with light.

“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” I said. “It really doesn’t.”

“I know. I just wish I had handled that better. I should’ve told you. If I had, you never would've run out of the club like that, and she wouldn't have attacked you.”

I shrugged. “Don’t care.”

“Why?”

"Just don't. None of that matters now. We’ve been through a lot. I’m tired. I’m not sure what is going to happen to me. I can feel it coming on. I pushed myself too hard. I’m going to black out from the hunger. I might not be able to stop myself from hurting you when I come to.”

“Oh…”

“I think you should stay here and I’ll go find somewhere else to stay for the day.”

“No! Don’t go.” He grabbed my hand. He was so warm. “Stay with me. Please. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I could kill you.”

“I don’t care. Please, just stay. You were ready to die, you were willing to risk everything so that I could stop her. I know Jonah. I know. I could hear your thoughts. You were terrified. And yet, you were going to do that for me. For us.”

I frowned.

“Mal…I--”

He stood up on wobbly legs and wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” I whispered. “I know.”

I stayed there with him, waited until he fell asleep before I left his side. He needed clothes and food and medical attention.

I fought off the blackout as hard as I could. I didn’t even know it was possible, but I kept myself awake long enough to find a car to steal, drive it over to him, and get him to a hospital.

It actually took a few days of driving. Somehow, I had enough willpower to remain conscious.

I ate whatever animals I found, made him eat some too. At first he wasn’t going to have any of it, seeing as how it was raw meat, but once he got hungry enough, he ate it all the same.

He slept a lot. When I dropped him off in the ER, he was sleeping. I didn’t wait to see him get taken care of. I knew that they wouldn’t turn him away. He was naked, covered in a ratty old blanket, and seriously injured. They would take him in, patch him up. Get him better. That was all that mattered to me.

I didn’t wait to say goodbye.

I thought it would be better that way. He could start to move on with his life, and forget about me. The way that I was going to soon forget about him.

By that point, I was staggering around like a drunk. It was so hard to focus, so hard to think.

But, I did what I set out to do. I saved him, and got him to safety. I was proud of that.

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

I was crying.

It felt good to cry.

I curled up in the trunk of the car I stole, and cried myself to sleep.

The Abyss took me into her arms, and everything went black.

[esmeravde]

The One Time 4

The morning sun beamed onto Lana’s face, causing her to emit a pained groan. The throbbing of her head greeted her in unison with consciousness. The night before had been filled with alcohol. She vaguely remembered Beau losing a drinking contest to Nott, and Caduceus choosing to drink tea.

Rubbing her head, Lana pulled herself into a sitting position. She was in her sitting room, alone. Empty wine and liquor bottles littered the room. Blindly, Lana stood and wandered towards her small kitchen in search of water, her mouth uncomfortably dry. After quenching her thirst, Lana went back up to her room to freshen up for the day.

She couldn’t remember the last time she drank that much. At most parties she kept a drink in her hand but rarely divulged to the point of drunkenness. She liked having her mind present in all situations. She had let herself get carried away. Lana wondered if it was the group as a whole who lead her to partake so heavily, but that was foolish. She poured the drinks and drank them. It was her own fault.

She took a few moments to do her hair, creating intricate braids behind her head. Lana elected to wear one of her more revealing yet elegant dresses, to make up for the misery the night of drinking had brought on.

By the time she had made it down into her shop the sun was high in the sky, not quite noon. As she unlocked the store’s door, she was greeted by one of her regular customers, a street urchin called Usof.

Usof was a quiet boy, who was nearly a grown man, maybe twenty years old at the most. The first time Lana met him, he wandered through her shop full of wonder, unable to read any of the stories found there. He started to come by more frequently to ask Lana about the book she had been reading. It was after a few months of this Lana decided to teach Usof to read. He was exceptionally bright and picked it up rather quickly. Years had gone by and he continued to come to the store every week to read something new.

“Good morning Usof.” Lana forced a smile past her pounding headache.

“Good morning Miss Lange.” Usof greeted her smiling brightly. “You are opening late today.”

“Yes,” Lana nodded quickly collecting her thoughts. “I am not feeling well and was in bed most of the morning. Do forgive me, I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not long enough to be bothered.” Usof smiled while walking past her into the shop. “What have you been reading lately?”

“Oh,” Lana spun around allowing the door to close. “I’ve been reading about a place called Whitestone. It’s a small city in Tal'dorei with a compelling history.”

“History can be dull.” Usof remarked.

“True, but I’m finding that this part of history seems more fiction than reality.”

“How do you know if the history you are reading is actually accurate?” Usof asked.

“By researching more on the topic.” Lana explained. “With Whitestone, I believe what I am reading is true because there are records corroborating the story. Also, it was only twenty years ago.”

“I see, may I read it.” He paused. “If you are finished with it.”

“I am.” Lana smiled grabbing the book from behind her chair, knowing she had another copy. Usof usually read what she had just finished reading. “Do you have a book to trade or are you paying today?”

“Trade.” Usof reached into his beaten satchel that hung from his slender form. “I brought back the one from last time.” Out of his bag he pulled a small book with an engraved dragon, titled The Dragon King.

“How did you like it?” Lana asked taking the book from him and trading it for the one on Whitestone.

“It was great but a dragon that rules people without greed doesn’t seem realistic to me.” Usof said, putting the new book in his bad.

“Well,” Lana smiled. “It is a work of fiction after all.”

As Lana was speaking, the door to her shop opened. Caleb walked in alone, standing tall. He was cleaner than he had been the night before and seemed more confident. He was cleaner, with new clothes. They were well tailored, he must have spent all morning with the best clothes maker in the city. He looked like he had come from money. If Lana was any other woman she would have swooned. If she hadn't known Caleb she would have assumed he was a part of a wealthy family.

“True Miss.” Usof agreed, then noticed the additional figure in the store.

“Sir,” Lana greeted Caleb formally. “I can be with you in one moment, feel free to look around.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, his accent felt stiffer but hit all the right notes. Standing, what one would assume as proudly, Caleb disappeared behind a shelf.

“Who’s that?” Usof whispered to Lana.

“I have no idea.” Lana lied.

“Looks like another rich ass.” Usof scoffed quietly.

“Young man,” Lana spoke sternly. “I will not have you insulting my customers. Anyway you best get going.” She ushered him toward the door. “Enjoy that book.” She said with a kind smile.

“Sorry Miss,” Usof looked at his shoes while walking away. “Thank you.”

“See you next week,” Lana continued to smile as Usof wandered down the street. “Stay out of trouble.” She called after him.

Lana allowed the door to close softly behind her. She decided to see how far Caleb would go in his new persona. Lana knew that deceiving the Assembly would be difficult and would require that the two of them maintained the charade even when away from them. They both had be completely committed!

Quietly, Lana made her way towards Caleb who seemed to be aimlessly looking at books. His new coat hung past his hips, the subtle embroidery gave away the cost of the coat. The pants were a seamless black, well fitted. He was an exceptionally handsome man.

“Sir,” Lana spoke formally again. “What is it you are looking for?”

“I book on the arcane.” Caleb turned towards Lana.

Lana, suddenly had a naughty thought come to mind. Could she seduce him? It would be a good test of his commitment to the task.

“What kind?” Lana took a step into his personal space. “There are many forms.” Lana moved closer. “Some are meant for battle, some for protection.” She reached out and placed a hand on his chest. Beneath her palm she felt his chest heave from a sudden intake of breath. “Some forms of magic help with…..pleasure” Lana smirked slyly him, locking eyes, while letting her hand drag lower. As her hand neared his navel she saw Caleb swallow.

“Lana.” He whispered, the formality of his accent falling away to the Caleb she had met previously.

Withdrawing her hand and taking a step back. “I was curious.” Lana replied.

“To see how far I could go.” Caleb responded.

“Yes.” Lana paused. “You look good. Did you wear your hair tied back like that in Xhorhas or when you went to the Academy?”

“In Xhorhas, not before.”

“Cleanly shaved?”

“Yes.”

Lana took a moment to contemplate their options. “I think staying clean shaven will be better, it’s more fashionable.”

“I’ll be more recognizable.”

“Perhaps,” Lana turned away from Caleb. “What were you like when you were at the Academy?” She lead Caleb across the shop to where she usually sat. Out from under her desk, she pulled a small stool, then gestured for Caleb to sit.

“I was terrible.” Caleb choked out. “Violent and lacked empathy.”

“I mean personality wise.” Lana sighed, :This persona, is that who you were at the Academy or in Xhorhas?”

“No, it is new.” Caleb replied.

“Good.” Lana smiled. “Then this will work. I believe many people will overlook your appearance when the personality is completely different.”

“Okay.”

“Caleb Widogast should not be your name,” Lana continued. “You are known by it in Xhorhas so here it must be different. If you want to keep Caleb that would be fine, it is a common name.”

“Caleb Richter?” Caleb asked.

Lana thought for a moment and remembered the book she had given Usof.

“Briarwood?” She suggested.

“Ja, okay.” Caleb stood. “I should go.”

“Caleb one more thing.” Lana stood with him. “The Gala is less than a week away. You know some of these people have the ability to look in on you at any moment. I suspect you have protected yourself from that but I have not. We must get in the habit of always being believable. You should stay somewhere nicer and when we are together…” Lana trailed off.

“We must be together,” Caleb finished.

“Yes,” Lana agreed. “I know you must be uncomfortable with this but it is the only way I can think of. I may not even be your type, which will make everything hard.” Lana fell back into her chair. “This is crazy. I shouldn’t expect you to do this!”

“It’s okay.” Caleb knelt down to look her in the eye. “I can do this, so can you.”

Lana scoffed, “You barely know me.”

“We will fix that.” Caleb stood once again. “Caleb Briarwood will visit everyday leading up to the Gala, to get to know you.”

“Practice,” Lana agreed.

“Practice.” Caleb’s back straighten, Lana observed Mr. Briarwood come into being. “Miss Lange.” Caleb’s voice was powerful and full of authority. “It has been a pleasure. I wish to visit you again, perhaps tomorrow.”

Lana stood and extended a hand. “Mr. Briarwood you are always welcome.” Caleb held her hand and placed a small kiss on it.

“Good day Miss Lange.”

“Good day Mr. Briarwood.”

Caleb moved elegantly through the door, which closed shortly after. For the first time, Lana realised that this outrageous plan might actually work. Caleb was seamlessly adapting to his role. The character he was becoming was similar to every wealthy man she had ever met, but she hoped he would be mysterious enough to be accepted into society. The only concern Lana had was in her own ability. If Caleb did become a typical aristocrate, then there would be no reason for her to entertain him as a suitor. However, if Caleb retained some of his own personality, the awkwardness, her acquaintances would not question anything.

The rest of Lana’s day went by smoothly. A few customers came through without buying anything, but Lana wasn’t one to be concerned with her finances. The only excitement came in the evening just before closing. A courier dropped off a letter for her.

My Dearest Lana,

It has been a long time since we have crossed paths. It seems we will see each other again. As you may know the Academy is holding their annual Graduation Gala. I will be attending due to the excellence of certain graduates. I know you will not want to be escorted by me as you are willfully independent, which I admire. I will simply ask for one dance with you my dear.

You company will be worth the trip back to Rexxentrum. I hope to stop by your home before the Gala as conversation is hard to have at a Gala.

I am at your service as always,

T.I.

Lana sat staring at the letter in her hands. What Lady DeRongna mentioned was true, Trent would be at the Gala. The elderly man, was exceptionally powerful and had always taken a liking to her. Lana chose to think of him as a father figure despite knowing he would like her to be his wife. Thankfully, the two had an unspoken agreement. Trent would never ask her knowing the answer, and she would always be herself around him. Lana knew how terrible he could be, in the same way most of that stature were. She, like many others chose to ignore it. The man he presented to her was always kind and exceptionally protective. Trent would prove to be a challenge at the Gala, he would not accept Caleb readily. His story would have to be coherent and hard to trace. Lana had suggested the name Briarwood as it was an unknown but also historical name. Lana knew it would explain his lack of presence in society before.

Putting the letter in her desk, Lana resolved to speak to Caleb about Trent when he visited the next day. As Lana busied herself with closing her shop, she found herself in a rather interesting mood. She was buzzing with excitement, which surprised her. She had never been one to enjoy danger but there was something about this whole enterprise that was exhilarating.

[loveshalifeworld]

Copy of Why Do Women Hate Women...SO MUCH?

So I did a little research before writing this Blog. I watched a little Oprah, a little Iyala fix my life, little Love and Hip Hop Hollywood, ya know, the essentials 🤷🏽‍♀️ I can think of a million examples to start with from my personal experiences, friend's experiences, reality TV etc etc, but I'm going to use Cardi B as an example (just bare with me)

I am a super Cardi B fan! Boom, there, I said it. Not because of Bodak yellow, but because she has worked hard to get where she is right now, she just wants to help her family, she is honest about her life and who she is, and she is SO HUMBLE. This woman is still a super fan of every artist she was a fan of before she got her big break, and she is so appreciative of the people who support her music. She is just such a sweet girl, and it makes me proud to see her doing well! SO,  Nicki Minaj had kind of thrown some shade at her by liking a negative comment a "Fan" wrote on a Cardi's IG, and then posting a negative tweet clearly aimed at the new rapper mentioning her boyfriend. Cardi was CRUSHED because she said she couldn't understand why someone she admires so much would go out of the way to tear her down.

Why do we do that to each other? After my very intense research, I think I've got a few ideas:

Social conditioning: we are conditioned as young girls that we have to be better than the person sitting in front of us and behind us. From sports, to clothes, grades, how many friends you have, who you sit with at a lunch table, how to impress a guy more than the girl next to you. It's all been programmed in our minds. The competition (and no I'm not talking about friendly competition, because that is always healthy) is engrained so deeply in us, that we often feel the need to compete in areas where a competition should not even exist.  STORY TIME 🤗🤗 When I was in 7th grade I chopped my hair off because every girl in the 7th grade except maybe two at my new school HATED me because I "thought my hair was cute" (said the ring leader of the group) and because some guy had a crush on me that apparently was the hot guy of middle school. (Fun fact, I didn't start liking boys until summer of my 8th grade year, so their hate was ill directed.)  I'm sure you all are wondering why I remember that alllll these years later. Well I remember it because there was an entire grade of girls who hated me lol I was new and out of the ordinary, those girls were conditioned to hate me and to try to annihilate me, you never forget an annihilation attempt! There was a girl who actually came to me at lunch one day and said "I like you, you seem really nice! but everybody else hates you soooooo yep." She apologized to me as stuck a huge piece of gum in my hair as all the kids at the other tables laughed. I was so confused and I cried lol  I went home and cut my hair, told my mom I accidentally cut it.  After a while of course, the girls realized I did not wish to threaten the social balance and they backed off...for the most part. I later ended up dating the guy most of high school and became amazing friends/frienemies with those girls. I now understand that they had no choice but to hate me. Though I understand it, I don't want to raise my future daughter to treat people that way. I want to condition her mind in a way that she knows, there is room for all of us here to be great.   NOW THAT IM DONE CRYING ABOUT MIDDLE SCHOOL.... a more up to date scenario                                                                                                                                                                                             When I say unnecessary competition, this is what I'm talking about. Say we are in the gym, I don't know you, you don't know me right? I put my treadmill speed at 6.0 you bump yours up to 6.1, midway through I bump mine to 6.8 (because the app that I'm using tells me to,) you bump your up to 6.9 just to stay ahead of me, but now your halfway dead because you're trying to compete with me on something I've BEEN training at. I stop my treadmill to move on to something else and you're thinking "YES! I knew I could beat her 💁🏽" just before you fall off and pass out and get rushed to the hospital. Where as while you're dying, I'm not even aware of the fact that you exist, I'm just happy I was able to finish my run today for once, AND if you had asked me how did I train to to comfortable run for a certain distance, I would have been more than happy to tell you everything I know to help you out!! We are conditioned to feel as if we are in constant competition with each other.  This usually happens in cases of an oppressed people. You get that mentality where "I've gotta look better and have a better body or I won't find a husband.""I've gotta be better,  I've gotta get their first, or there won't be anymore left for me." "If someone Is better than you in anyway, you'll never make it out." That my loves, is the mindset of an oppressed people, and yes, women are an oppressed people. It's not your fault, we are literally trained to be better than each other by any means necessary. It's like Lord of the Flies up in girl world! (If you've never read Lord of the Flies, you HAVE to! That's a good book! It's about these boys who get stranded on an island and...well thats not important here I guess, but still go read it)

External Validation-  Validation (n)- recognition or affirmation that a person or their feelings or opinions are valid or worthwhile. We have a constant need to be validated by the outside world, some women more than others, but we all need to be validated in some way.  In the movie mean girls Cady (Lindsay Lohan) started off pretending to be a mean girl, but as time went on, she actually became a really mean person because her thirst for validation continued to grow. Her need to be known as the prettiest girl in school, her need to be popular, her need to have the best clothes, her need to have the best hair; all of this because she wanted to feel validated by the outside world. She did't care about who she hurt or made fun or walked over, because her need for validation caused her to not care about being mean to anyone. She was perfectly fine and interesting on her own, but because she developed that need to be accepted and validated, it changed her. We need to hear "omg you're so much prettier than her" "omg your hair is way cuter than hers". MY (insert whatever) has to be BETTER than YOUR (insert whatever) or my dopeness is not VALID. NO SIS you're dope, I'm dope, we are all dope. Thats all the validation you need.

Success- I'm going to break success down in a few different areas

You know the saying "misery loves company"? You know how you will be having a great, lively conversation with one of your friends, and then you spring some good news on her and it gets reaaaallll quiet and dry on the other end of the phone? Women do not like when other women are happy. Whether its a happy relationships, happy at work, or just happy to be alive. Your friend tells you OMG I'm so excited, I just bought these new shoes and they were on sale. She is clearly excited, but secretly you're angry because you wanted those shoes and couldn't afford them that day, so you tell her the shoe s are ugly and make her feet look big, out of "love" of course. Or you have a friend that gets into a new relationship and is very happy, you blow up on her for talking about her new boyfriend, telling her that you're sick of hearing about him (after she has only mentioned him once), all because you're upset that you aren't getting a "text back".  You should want to see your friends happy. Whatever another woman is happy about, just let her be happy, and try to indulge a little bit in her happiness. Sometimes you just honestly, do not want to hear it, girl, I get it; that's not what I'm talking about. I am talking about if the only time you are enjoying a conversation, is if your friend is on the phone crying her eyes out about how her guy mistreated her or dishing about her awful day at work...that is what I'm talking about. I know people like that who are just eager to hear bad news about my life, soooo I don't tell them lol but if it excites you to learn about the low points in people's lives or to see another woman not doing so well, you really should take a look at yourself love. You need to ask yourself why the idea of another woman being happy makes you feel like the wicked witch being melted by rain on the inside.

Women hate to see another woman having a more successful career/business than her. You want to see your friends do well, but not better than you. In the field that I work in, there aren't always a lot of women around! So when I see another woman I'm happy like hey girl hey, lets be better than all these guys together lol It's not always like that, it's every woman for herself 🤷🏽‍♀️ Oh well.  Ya know, I recently met a young woman who is pretty awesome! We clicked immediately, like we both just KNEW ok, this is my soul sister. We chatted as she was doing my hair and the conversation flowed onto the topic of our dreams and we both had a similar idea! In most situations thats a no go, that conversation would have stopped right there because I don't want you to take my ideas and run off and be better than me. We should have been looking at each other side eyed lolGuys, we both got so excited when we realized we had the same idea and ended it with "SIS we need to get on this together, lets set up a meeting and lets collab" !!  You should WANT to see another woman doing well in a career, and if I can help you, or we can work together yesss lets do it. Women should Support women!

Women don't like women who they think are prettier or have a better body than them🤦🏽‍♀️🤔 I'm not even going to get into this one  because it's self explanatory. This is a terrible reason to hate someone... you hate me because you think I'm pretty or my butt is small and round, and I hate you because you're pretty and your'e butt is big and round. Soooo we are all out here admiring each other and instead of complementing...ugh I digress. ALL WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL!!

A QUICK RUNDOWN OF other miscellaneous reasons women hate other women

Women don't like women because of hair,

their shoes 

dressing too "slutty"

dressing too conservative

smiling too much,

having resting b*tch face

having a nice car

perfect makeup

waving

not waving

laughing too loud

she must have gotten a nose job

you stole my boyfriend in 3rd grade

I mean.....you guys get the point by now

I think that It all boils down to INSECURITY. We alllll have little insecurities, but just because I am unsure of myself in an area does not mean that I need to make myself feel better by tearing another woman down. Just because I feel there is an opportunity for another woman to be "better" than me in an area does not mean I should tear her down, talk about her, or discourage her, it just means that I need to make sure I continue to be MY BEST SELF. 

Guys, we desperately need to stop comparing ourselves to each other, that alone eliminates a majority of the issue. There is no comparison to YOU. Stop comparing your love life and your body and your hair. There will always be a woman who has a flatter stomach than you or a better butt or longer hair or a taller boyfriend. We have to be able to recognize the beauty in other women while still appreciating and admiring our own undeniable beauty. I guarantee you while you are looking at her wishing you had something she has, she is looking at you wishing she could have something you have. know why?? Because Every woman is a piece of art work carefully crafted by God. There is so much power and beauty in being a woman, and the world already tries to ta take that power from us, we definitely should not do it to each other.  Empowered women, empower women!! So, take your power back, by loving yourself. There is sooooooo much more that can go into this post, because there is some serious healing that has to go on in the girl's club ya'll, but I'm going to run out of characters lol. For now we have to stop being so nasty to each other! When you run into a woman wearing acute dress or a nice pair of earrings, just compliment her. Just walk up to her like "hey girl! your dress is the cutest thing I've ever seen." If you're going to compliment, might as well SUPER compliment.I do it all the time, like omg girl the way you slayed that ponytail is AMAZINNGGGG haha. Spread some love!Let me know how it goes! I hope you all enjoyed this one! Feel free to leave a comment or send me an e-mail.

PS: Don't forget to give yourself a compliment too 🌻

[wanderingandfound]

There are no perks to this. I’m not experiencing this world in a nontypical but still valid way, running into issues where society is not set up to accommodate me but that’s society’s fault not mine. If I could wave my hand and have this go away, I wouldn’t lose anything. My life would only improve. And, I guess that’s probably a common thought among people with disabilities. Over the past few years I’ve been so caught up in positivity and reframing, especially about things like autism or being blind or deaf, that I forgot that some things just bring misery. Not everybody who deals with disabilities has something “wrong” with them, is “broken”, but some people are.

That’s another thing, am I disabled? Do I qualify? Not in the government aid sense. In the talking about myself sense. In the adding my two cents to conversations sense. I went to a talk about ADHD and executive dysfunction, especially in the context of grade school children. One of the things mentioned was that four little things could have the impact of one big thing. I was slightly too busy writing that down to hear all her examples, but she included bullying. So my knee pain that literally never leaves (can I call it chronic pain?). My hypothyroidism that is hopefully under control (at least, I’m not usually sick in the mornings now). My OSA. My Type II N. Is there something else as well? My apparently funny eye movement that therapy doesn’t help, that apparently slows down my reading (is this why I can’t skim? Or if I practice more will I finally get the hang of skimming a text?). Is that linked to my difficulty processing verbal input (I won’t call it APD because obviously that’s a Thing)? Are they both stemming from the same main issue? Or are they different? I’m assuming the first one influences why even my messy handwriting is slow (and don’t you dare say practice because I’ve had more practice writing things by hand than most kids this century). How many things are at play here? Do I go back to my clumsiness? My occupational therapy?

I had years of speech therapy that stopped before middle school. The most trouble in my r’s as w’s, s’s as th’s, and z’s as th’s. I couldn’t hear a difference in what I said when I was wrong and what I said when I was right with my r’s and s’s. The z’s just tickled too much to form properly. They still do honestly. In the past months I’ve been having more and more trouble, reverting back to how I was, especially with my s’s. The worst part is when I go to correct myself, I can’t. It isn’t just me forgetting to articulate and enunciate. And I can’t remember the dozens of techniques I had to practice and strengthen, even though there may have been a point where I had spent more years in speech therapy than out of it.

(How many therapies have I been in? Speech, occupational, a little bit in eye therapy until they said I was as improved as I could get (not much), interactive metronome which I remember nothing but the kitkats I got if I met goals, for a while OT gave me listening therapy homework, physical therapy solidly after I broke my wrist, and a little bit after I broke my ankle, and a little bit of counseling that did pretty much nothing.)

I got off topic. I just… want to know what exactly is at play here. I want to take a single test and have nice little graphs and the root causes of all my symptoms and all my symptoms of my root causes. That’s not going to happen, but still.

At the ADHD talk they also said ADHD is usually diagnosed by a process of elimination, and one of the things they eliminate first is a sleep disorder. Which is funny. Because that’s the same thing they say about N. And I wonder (hope) that all my issues focusing comes from the bad sleep. I am 98% sure I have executive functioning problems. But at the talk (again again about this talk I know, I’m sorry) she says that people have both primary and secondary systems. That neurotypical (primary) children who’s parents do all their homework demonstrate EF symptoms of ADHD because they “learned” it (secondary). And even if for me these problems <i>are</i> primary, once I fix it (if I fix it) how will I learn/unlearn/grow the secondary system?

I guess that’s why I’m home now.

I was explaining my plan with retaking math I covered in high school to a friend from college. She asked if I’ve fixed my memory issues now. Because sleep is important to memory formation, and my memory has always sucked (not in the way where I’m “forgetful” but in the way where I have very, very few memories of my own actual life and could never write an autobiography; also apparently in the way where I cannot remember a single thing from a math class I got an A in less than a year ago). I said that, besides sleeping habits (which are vital and I am working on) everything that can be done to actually improve my sleep is being done. But it’s not working and the symptoms are still bloody there. So now we’re on symptom management, i.e. not falling asleep AT ANY GIVEN POINT. Hopefully this will mean I can actually participate in class and feel safe going on roadtrips again. It will not actually improve my health in any given shape or form, but I’ll be a better cog in the capitalist productivity machine. And hopefully will be able to live some form of life. But my memory isn’t going to improve all that much.

I’ll still always be tired. My neurologist has been doing some expectation management, saying I’ll never have a normal brain and I may always feel tired. The goal is to stop the falling asleep on accident.

I’d like to return to my walks again. Maybe return to attempting to run as well. (What if I actually got past week two on the couch to 5k work out? That would be amazing.) But I haven’t had the energy to do jack shit. Like, standing is hard. Sometimes I remember the high school humanities teacher who told me (my parents? I forget) that if I exercised more I would find “more time” in the day to do homework when we asked about time management/me being exhausted/having too much to do. It was bullshit. Going to the track meant I wouldn’t have the energy to do anything until 7:00 pm. When given at least four hours of homework a night? That didn’t work so well. I wonder what her advice would have been if I wasn’t fat. She didn’t seem very concerned about my classmate who was starving and isolating herself when some friends and I went to her with our concerned. Another time she specifically said the classmate was trying to distance herself from “fat Americans”.

I can’t run not on a track because my knees literally cannot take it. The only other form of exercise I’m vaguely interested in is bodyweight exercises, but I literally have never done a proper push up in my life and my knees throw squats and the like straight out of the equation. And honestly? The idea of being able to run a mile is a million times more enticing than being able to do fifty sit-ups. I love walks though. And the temperature here is not the murder-weather there was at school. And yet if I don’t have to go anywhere the chances of me changing out of my pyjamas have been very slim this past month.

I’ve not been meeting any of my goals and I don’t know what to do.