#the shit i willingly subject myself to multiple times

[himetsuri]

U DID GREAT BOO

[youtastelike-sunlight]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, and 25 for the tattoo asks! Thanks! 🤪✌️

Katey for the love of god just tell me you want a video call where I strip down and show off my ink 🤣

(Also, the number of times I checked this list absolutely convinced you would have skipped ONE for the lulz)

1. How many tattoos do you have?

Uh. Somewhere around 35-ish? There's been a lot of, like, building out on existing ones and making them cohesive, so it's really hard to say. 40-50 sessions in the chair, for sure.

2. What is your favourite tattoo you've gotten?

Stop asking pansexual ADHDers to pick favourites. Actually, speaking of, that joke on Dropout's Breaking News a few weeks ago about how Dropout fans are "pansexual nerds with drama mask tattoos and anxiety disorders" called me the fuck out, four for four baby, so maybe right now it's my drama masks with a Shakespeare quote 😅

3. What is the most meaningful tattoo you've gotten?

Any of the multiple memorial tattoos for deceased family members, or the matching tattoo I got with my spouse after our wedding

4. What is your dream tattoo?

I'm hoping to get something cool on my chest post-top surgery, but that's a long-ass way away yet.

5. What was the most painful tattoo?

I fully used numbing cream when I got my inner thigh tattooed, but I missed a spot. Ask me how I realised.

Also my knuckles, jfc. Fully cussed my tattoo guy out for that one, it was his idea to extend the design down to cover a couple of knuckles in the first place lmfao.

6. What was your first ever tattoo and how old were you when you got it?

My uncle's initials after he died when I was 17. I had this deal with my mum that I could get all the facial piercings I wanted, dye my hair all the batshit colours I wanted, as long as I didn't get a tattoo until I turned 18. And I'm grateful for that, because I wanted some tacky-ass shit at 15-16. But we negotiated for the one at 17, which there was little to no chance of me regretting.

7. What is your most recent tattoo?

An envelope with a piece of paper coming out of it that says "wish you were queer xo" for a flash day fundraiser for RainbowYOUTH.

8. What does your family think about your tattoos?

My mum is fucking petrified of needles, so her objection isn't to the permanent ink on my skin so much as willingly subjecting myself to being stabbed lmao. I hid them from my paternal grandparents until my wedding day and then said 'fuck it they can't yell at me today!' and they have never, ever mentioned them since. My maternal grandmother hated my first few, offered to pay to get them laser removed when I was at about 4 or 5, then begrudgingly acknowledged that some of them weren't terrible, and when she went into hospice in 2017 she gave me a list of the sorts of things she wanted included in her memorial tattoo 🤣

9. What meaning do your tattoos have?

Everything from very personal connections/memories/experiences in the memorial tattoos down to "I rolled three dice and got three words and the artist designed something based on that and slapped it on my body", and everything in between.

10. How many tattoos do you want?

As many as I have good ideas.

11. Where is the most painful place you've been tattooed?

Is this a different question to #5?

I will say - back of calf tattoos are surprisingly difficult. Not the MOST painful place, but probably the longest I've been really genuinely uncomfortable? (Though, again, sans numbing cream on my inner thigh this would be a VERY different convo)

12. Where is a place on your body that you will NEVER get tattooed?

I dunno... butthole? Eyeball?

I'm unlikely to do a face tattoo, but who knows, really.

13. What is a design you love on others but would never get for yourself?

I can't think of a specific design!

14. What is your favourite style of tattoo?

New School, for sure. Though I have a bit of nearly everything 🤣

15. Would you trust a friend to choose the design of your tattoo?

Depends on the friend. Katey, you will not be designing a Fiona/Dragon tattoo for me, soz.

16. What are some tattoo assumptions you think need to die?

That having ever gotten a tattoo in the past means you have a ton of disposable income now (the amount of "omg they're on a benefit but they have tattoos" I've heard from dipshits how the fuck do you think tattoos work?????), that it's not a valid and fucking impressive form of artwork.

17. Do you have one tattoo artist who does all of your art or a stand out tattoo artist? Hype them up!

These days I do! Only since I moved back to my current city in 2017, though, so a lot of my older stuff is by other artists. His name's Steve, he's a fucking delight, every day I'm in his chair is a fucking party. When my grandad died I just booked him out for the day and chatted to him about my grandad for the morning until inspo struck him and then he turned his iPad around with the loveliest design on it.

18. Is there any artist you would love to get work done by? Tell us about them!

There are lots of incredible artists out there, but I don't think I have, like, one bucket list person.

19. What is your worst tattoo experience?

I had an apprentice go too deep on my pansexual tattoo and I still have a bit of raised scar tissue there lmao

20. What has been your best tattoo experience?

Getting my grandmother's memorial tattoo designed and tattooed. Per #8 I went in with a bit of a chaotic list and what the artist put together was just fucking stunning. It's my whole upper arm and every single element of it has really personal meaning.

21. Do you have any matching tattoos with people?

Yep! My spouse and I got matching Doctor Who tattoos after our wedding. I'm a DW fan of old, got my spouse into the show after we got together, and we had a reference in our ceremony but without discussing it, we'd both put references in our individual vows as well lmao.

I also have a few like... standard tattoos, for lack of a better word? As well as a few flash sheet designs. So I definitely have matching tattoos with strangers 🤣

22. What is your opinion on face tattoos?

Follow your bliss, babes, but you know the society we live in and you're accepting the potential bullshit. (I have hand tattoos!! I'm not saying it's RIGHT I'm saying it IS.)

23. Do you think tattoos make people look less professional?

No, but I know people think they do. Where's that tweet about how tattoos make you perfect for corporate culture because it shows you can sit through the most painful bullshit and that's every corporate meeting ever?

24. Post a picture of your favourite tattoo.

It me, the Dropout fan.

25. Give us a tattoo tour!

Katey I will absolutely get booted off tumblr if I do that.

[tattoo asks... except katey's already asked them all so]

[gabnonymous]

where have i been?

man... where do i even start?

i thought i'd make this post for the few people who've been wondering as to what i've been doing this past month. i've also been wanting to post on here for a while now.

nonstop studying

it shouldn't come as a surprise for some to know that i take my studies, somewhat seriously, though if i had the choice to pursue my studies or make videos, i'd probably take the latter just because its so much easier for me to do. i kmow studying is better for me in "the long run", but at this point it's been draining too much of my self-esteem... who thought it'd be a great idea to throw 10th grade math problems towards an art student who hasn't touched math in a year?

but no. i've been studying nonstop to take multiple college entrance exams throughout this year. the cool thing about being an asian is that you're required to go to college, or you'll starve on the streets... at least that's what my family's been telling me everytime they see my failing scores in my diagnostic exams... completely disregarding the fact i got an award for being an honor student a week prior.

after taking my first college entrance exam, paired with the fact i haven't gotten proper sleep in a while... my eye started twitching. i might be making it a much bigger deal than it is, especially now that it's stopped twitching for a while now... it still bugs me. doesn't help knowing i've had consistent headaches every time i wake up since then.

don't get me wrong, i'm grateful to have the resources i have for me to have a "good studying environment"... but man, i really wish i could do things differently, because who would've guessed that online classes don't help me in the slightest, and i can't even go against taking those classes because my family paid a shit ton of money for the course. it just feels like i have to take these classes instead of actually gaining something.

dwindling social life

i haven't opened up about this before, since it's still a relatively touchy subject, but i know that if i continue to keep it to myself for long, things aren't gonna get better either way.

following an inner conflict i had with a now-ex close friend after telling an inappropriate joke, followed by a brief emotional meltdown, i decided to voluntarily leave my friend group with the intention to try and grow as a person, alone.

and although i've apologised to everyone, and it's been a month since it happened, i still don't feel even remotely close to feeling comfortable being around the friend group anymore. ever since the incident, i've willingly isolated myself socially from anyone, trying my best to keep to myself and only ever interacting with people when they approach me, which sounds reasonable, but that also means having to spend long periods of time, with my own thoughts, inside of a classroom with people you feel scared to even look at.

i've been through therapy multiple times in my life, and have heard the same kind of advice time and time again from many people, and i have yet to see any significant progress towards my mental wellbeing for near close to a year now at this point. i know these kinds of situations require time... but there just comes a point where you start to wonder when that "time" will come.

i've tried virtually everything i could think of to try and combat my thoughts, with no improvement. it's come to a point where i've been intenting to see a psychologist just to try and get a concrete reason as to why i've been acting this way for this long... am i extremely anxious? am i depressed? or am i just a shitty person to be with?

sadly, if i do see a psychologist, it won't be till next year. so, i'll have to live with these thoughts through the following months.

life

who would've thought that my voice actors also go to school? that was sarcasm, by the way, i think it was pretty obvious.

i'm currently waiting for some of my voice actors to finish up their lines for an upcoming short. i was planning to have said short to be the first video to be uploaded onto the channel after a while... but by the looks of it, it might be the 2nd as i'm closing in on a gaming video i've recently finished recording for.

it sucks, but some things are simply out of my control. i don't like pressuring people to do what i want, so all i can really do, is wait. i just hope people do the same, even though it's been a while now.

conclusion (tldr, sort of)

i'm really sad and busy. school's been kicking my ass twice and i'm working on 3 videos at the same time.

am i happy? probably, i dunno. being stressed beats doing nothing, so, eh.

stay safe, yall.

[amazingphilza]

study buddies :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some headcanons if the mcyts were trying to help you do hw :D

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

tommyinnit

i feel like he’s the type to be in a long discord call with you whilst you both try to finish your work

mans uses the screensharing feature like there’s no tomorrow

“y/n watch my stream on discord and help me guess the answers”

“tommy no! i haven’t even taken a film class before”

“your guess is good as mine”

“just cheat and google the answers!!!”

“fuck you”

he actually just wants your attention because he’s bored out of his mind doing homework

five minutes later of asking you to help him guess questions he’s like

“hey y/n”

“what now?”

“let’s play bedwars”

“oh my god shut up!!!”

if tommy has to speedrun something before a deadline, it is a whole different story tho; he will be so focused on completing that he won’t hear what you’re saying

if you’re struggling in math, you’re on your own

“math is shit, only numbers i need is my primes and youtube analytics” says tommy any time you complain about math

besides the fact he isn’t good at solving math problems, you can’t even read his handwriting if he did try showing you how to do a problem

“okay, y/n, it’s simple, just look” he says in his kareninnit voice and everything

you’d be like “is the variable a G or a 9??”

“fuck you that’s a 4!!!”

tubbo

i don’t know if tubbo ever talked about school before but something about him makes me think he’s actually pretty good at math

like he can explain a few things when it comes to math / algebra

CODING GO BRRRR

no geometry or calculus though, anything past algebra will go bad

if tubbo is doing homework with you, he will definitely tune you out

“hey tubbo can you help me on this question?”

you don’t get a response until like 20 minutes later

“oh yeah, what was it y/n?”

like now you answer? i just got the answer myself after so long, forget you smh

“oh nothing tubbo, nevermind!”

but you’re still grumbling in your head because if he answered just a bit earlier you wouldn’t have gone through the work of finding the answer online

i can also imagine if you’re taking chemistry tubbo is like ;

“oh you’re taking chemistry? let’s make some bombs!” /lh

tubbo would definitely pull an all-nighter with you to finish your projects together

if you had a group project, he would make you do the writing part while he does the drawing part

“we definitely aced this project”

“of course we did, if i made you draw we would’ve ended up with stick figure diagrams”

“TUBBO. THE FUCK?”

ranboo

okay i know ranboo said he isn’t a theatre or band kid (unless im wrong and forgetful) but i feel like he’d be somewhat educated in the topics nonetheless

half the time he’s great moral support, helping you stay motivated !

the other half is him making fun of you

“i cant believe you’re failing, that is so sad, can’t be me”

“it’s literally an honors class, ranboo! it’s supposed to be hard!!”

“taking an honors class willingly? also cant be me AHAHA”

i honestly can’t see ranboo going to school like i know he’s a minor and said he had zoom calls before and plays volleyball but like did i miss something? has he dropped out yet? like something about ranboo does not scream “student” /lh

besides that, i’m not sure what subject he would actually be good in,,, but something about nutrition/health sciences,, he knows a few things

don’t get me wrong, i don’t think he actually likes the subject but somehow remembers what he learned from the class

also gives me the type of energy of the type of person to take a first aid class to be a certified person to do cpr on someone just to kill time during his lunch breaks for a while or something

“i am a certified cpr person”

“my life in ranboo’s hands? oh god please no”

you two would probably joke about the ‘bad’ people in your classes or talk shit about your schools than actually doing anything homework related ngl AHAHAH

“you think your school is down bad? mine went back to campus full time after like 6 months into quarantine because they were running out of money”

“what the hell y/n? your school is a scam, drop out”

“arghhhh i knowww”

“i bet i make more money than your teachers combined AHAHAH”

wilbur soot

he doesn’t seem like the best person to ask for help for homework but can info dump you on very specific historical events + a bit of geography

i kinda see him as the person you can ask to proof read an essay for you and would help it improve immensely

who needs a thesaurus when you have vocabulary boy wilbur?

i dunno if it’s an american thing only or at all, but if/when you get to studying hamilton in your english class, he will get so fucking excited

“no wilbur it isn’t fun! imagine listening to lin-manuel miranda rap ‘alexander hamilton’ at the white house from like 2009 on repeat for over an hour whilst trying to write an analysis about it!! it was so distracting”

“well clearly someone has a personal problem with mr lin-manuel. if i were you, i’d be singing the whole thing”

is this last bit personal and complete spite from my freshman year english class? yes. i do not care? no. /hj

unrelated but i actually scribbled nice guy ballad lyrics and other songs on my english scratch papers in freshman year but anyway

probably isn’t the best person to be in a call to do homework with but wilbur doesn’t mind you ringing him occasionally sometimes

i dunno i can just see him easily get bored of the silence or something but also doesn’t want to bother you too much

but he is genuinely proud of you whenever you tell him you aced a big test you were studying for :D

philza

this man’s bad advice is as bad as him trying to help you on any subject

he’s an old man so /hj

but like honestly, he hasn’t been at school for so long, phil can probably only help with the most basic things when it comes to school

if you have a wack teacher that makes you collect data through surveying people, phil would be one of the best people to ask! straightforward and won’t take too much of your time compared to other people ahem,,

statistics things ! sobs

if you ever complain a lot about your classes and contemplating dropping out and stuff, he will def scold you hard

“ugh phillllllllll can i just like,, never go to school again?”

“do not drop out”

“argh fine, i won’t just ‘cause philza minecraft said so”

honestly if you get a high score in a big test like your sats/gcse’s (whatever you’re taking from wherever you are) he’d probably order you a small meal or something to celebrate :D

like how phil bought ranboo bought him food to his house, it would start as a joke but when you get your test scores back he’s like “YOOO GOOD JOB Y/N”

expect a left meat pizza coming to your house .

technoblade

like wilbur, techno is also helpful when it comes to history!

def knows a decent bit of literature too

besides that i don’t really see him being that helpful

even if he was supposed to be an english major

he will just get mad at the school system for teaching you useless things

“being in school is good but why do you need to know how to know if something is a triangle or not? i can obviously see with my eyes that it’s a triangle”

“i dunno! ask the person that made up geometry”

“just look at a kaleidoscope and be over with it, it isn’t that hard”

“that isn’t how it works—”

“bruhhh”

if you’re looking for the person to call while doing homework, he is not the person /lh

it’s either like 0 or 100 with techno

he can just completely not say anything and ignore you or go on a full rant about whatever class or homework you have

if you have an essay you need written, it will take a lot of bribing but he might take the opportunity if you are rich

“techno i’ll paypal you $10 please help me”

“no. i can make 10 times that amount in 5 minutes if i just started streaming right now”

“techno i don’t have that kind of money! pleaseee”

“no. instead of complaining, you can use that time to actually start you work”

“you’re the worst”

then you speedrun the essay and get an A just to spite him

[milkiijustwrites]

hello keith :3 !! i know i’ve said this a thousand times but oh my GOD ur blog is so <333 !!! /pos /g

i’d like genshin impact match up yess 🐝

my pronouns are he / they. i identify as genderfluid so i often fluctuate between fem and masc presenting. i use the labels androromantic / demiromantic and omnisexual— don’t b afraid to ask me what they are mhm YES

i don’t mind a female or a male match up, though i do tend to favour the males

i often hide my true person under a front of faux diffidence, although genuine to some extent. i’m quiet and reserved to mostly everyone during first encounters; i do make an effort to amuse them with jests or small talk at times.

once gained enough trust to drop my shittily forged facade, i become absolutely unhinged. i will run my mouth like it’s in the special olympics and that’s your problem :) . i entertain talks of mostly any subject, and i’d say i’m a pretty good conversationalist and listener.

i’m always sure to maintain the comfort of the other, and it’s mainly my priority to make them laugh. if i don’t have much of a liking towards the person, im very easy to drain out. but if it’s someone i favour, i could talk all the shit my body can hold.

ehhh, i’d say i provide good emotional and moral support? im pretty compassionate and understanding, and im always more in tuned to handling emotional situations anyways, albeit that does not mean im weak regarding in ones that require logic. either way, im always free to dish out therapy sessions like free food samples mmm naurr 👨🏻‍🦲

i’m a big people pleaser, and sometimes i depend on the other person to initiate comfort. i don’t often voice out my vexations or what not because i feel like it’s nothing. i do willingly take on and resolve others problems with genuine concern for them , but i grow resentful when they’re not there for me in turn, even though i made clear there was no need for compensation. this is mmm yes not a sexy trait of mine but a prominent one regardless.

i’m also very self doubtful so on days where i’m less sure of myself, i’ll start pushing others away with the mindset that they secretly hate me.

i also say i forgive you regardless of whether i truly do or not? i often feel pressured into doing so, as i’ve been in multiple occasions in my life. this may lead to resent building up.

i’m so sorry if it’s more fixated on the bad parts of myself ? HELP i cant think of any other better traits 😰

anyways thank you!! and i hope you have a nice day <3 remember to hydrate !!

HIII! thank you for participating in my event!

A/N:HII <3 NO YOURE EXAGGERATING , and yes, genshin match it is :D hope you have a great day as well <33

I match you up with...

venti

So I read through your description, and the first thing that came in mind is , man you're the kind of friend everyone wants ， but also the friend that no one understands the most

I feel like no one truly understands what you're actually thinking, and that reminds me of venti! He could be very goofy on the outside, but I feel like there's something inside of him that no one understands.

So poof , match

Like imagine both if you just being crackheads, and just goof around

Gosh I love yall's couple vibes so much

The funny and friendly yet mysterious couple

WHAT A DYNAMIC

When you feel pressured or sad or stressed, venti will not show how much he cares for you, but will secretly find a way to make you feel better, he doesn't want to invade your inner mind you see <3

" bark I'm a duck , ahaha- I'm feeling pretty hilarious "

[theycallmequeenie]

Lexie And Happy

Master List

Part Six

The ride to their home was short and uneventful but it made Lex realize that she missed being on the back of Happy’s bike. When they arrived back to the place Happy called home Hap had stopped before the garage and let Lexie get off the back of the bike before he parked it in the garage for the night. She walked into the garage and watched him as he worked to secure his bike for the night. She smiled as she loved watching him care for his Harley. It was the only time she could see him be as loving and caring toward something other than her. As odd as it was it warmed her heart to see that side of the rough biker.

As Happy finished putting his bike away for the night he looked up to see Lex watching him with a loving look in her eyes. One he had missed for far too long. He smiled as he walked toward her and instinctively held out his arm for her to tuck herself under and they could walk to the house together. He had hoped she would do this like she had so many times in the past. Which she did, though he didn’t know if it was out of habit or if she simply needed to feel the security of him after all that happened earlier that night. He didn’t care either way, all that mattered was that he had her back at his side. “Come on, Lex. I got someone I want you to meet.” He whispered in her ear as he walked her to the door. Lexie looked at him questioningly. But understood the moment she heard barking from the other side of the door.

She smiled as Hap let her into the house and had her take a seat on the sofa in the living room and went to let his dog out of its crate. Bringing the pure white pit bull and introduced him as Opie. Upon being told his name and knowing how much Happy loved his dogs this put a sad smile on her face as she knew how much he must miss the dog’s name sake.

The three of them sat on that sofa for almost an hour. Happy was in disbelief how quickly Ope bonded with Lex. Lex was in love with the pit bull and Ope was just basking in all the attention he was getting. Happy sat back and watched them interact almost certain that it was only because Ope smelled Sunni, but it really didn’t matter to him.  He checked the time and looked to Lex, “You want anything to eat or are we just going to skip dinner and just talk?”

Lex sighed. He never was one to tiptoe around a subject. “Hap… I don’t know what you want me to say. I left because I wasn’t okay, and I didn’t know how to get back to being okay with everyone that I loved constantly pushing me to talk about it when I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. I hated seeing everyone so miserable because of me.” Lexie looked at Happy with a frown one her face and continued, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. I want you to know that.” She all but whispered, not out of shame but from fear of her voice cracking and giving her emotions away.

Happy sighed in exasperation, aggravated at the most of her words. “Damn it, Alexandra! All we were trying to do was help. We knew you weren’t okay, that’s why we kept trying to get you to open up to one of us. We all loved you and were worried about you.” He rubbed his hands over his face and asked the question he had been wanting answered for the last decade, “Why, Lexie? Why did you leave your engagement ring behind? The real reason. Not the bull shit one you gave me at the club house.”

Lex couldn’t look him in the eye. She knew he saw through her excuse earlier and that he was too relieved to have her back with him to care about calling her out on it there on the spot. “Happy what did you want me to do? I left it because I knew you would never wait for me to figure my shit out. Hell, when Tig called me to come back out here I half expected to see you with someone new wearing that ring to be at your side with a handful of kids and I did my best to prepare myself for that scenario. I knew you would be able to move on and find someone else.” With that being said, she stood up and began to pace the room she felt her anxiety starting to rise and was doing what she could to keep it under control.

Hap noticed this but he had her finally talking and was not giving up just yet. There was one other thing he needed to know. “What about you? Did you ‘move on’?” He asked using air quotes when he said move on, not trying to express anything but indifference but the anger at the thought of someone else being with Lexie showed.

Lexie sighed, “I tried. I went on a handful of dates over the years but nothing beyond that. It never felt like it did when I was with you. Never got past the first date with any of them. Kind of glad right about now that they didn’t go any beyond that.” Crossing her arms over herself and daring to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know if you even want us to become us again and I don’t expect you to willingly or readily forgive me for walking out on you, but I still love you, nothing will ever change that.”

Satisfied, Hap crossed the small living room to her and wrapped her up in his arms silently conveying that he still loved her too. “The hurt healed awhile ago, Little Girl. I still want to take time for us to get back to what we had all those years ago but ain’t no way I’m ever letting that go.” Kissing her on her forehead finally got her to relax fully in his arms. As she rested her head against his chest he spoke gently, “Come on babe. Let’s get you something to eat, then we can get some sleep. I’ll take the couch you can have my bed.” At the suggestion he heard her make a disapproving sound. Before she could voice her protest, he explained his reasoning. “Or maybe not…” He chuckled slightly and started gently pulling her toward the kitchen.

It wasn’t a complex or gourmet dinner, just some chicken breast and mixed vegetables, but Lex was thrilled. It was the first real meal she’d had in days. It was also the first meal she had with Happy in a very long time and that made her happy. They had eaten in silence and cleaned up the dishes together.

Happy was showing her the way to the bedroom when she stopped him to go grab her bag, she had brought along with her. He showed her the bedroom and told her that he would be right back he was going to take the dog out and go through his nightly routine before bed. She took this time to go ahead and change into her simple pajamas. It was just a pair of light flannel pj pants and an old tee shirt she had from her old job at the garage back east. It was usually only worn when the shirt that had been shredded that night was in the wash. She was putting her bag on top of a footlocker that was in the room when Happy came back into the room.

“Are you sure you want me in here with you tonight? I’ll happily sleep on the couch…”

Before he could continue, Lex stopped him, “Happy, after the insanity of today, I just want to lay down in a bed and fall asleep in the safety of the arms of my big bad ‘Killa’, like I used to. Can we just do that?”

Looking at him she was finally showing her exhaustion. He only nodded back in response and pulled back the blankets on the bed offering her the choice in the side of the bed. She had picked the left side of the bed, which he expected since that was always the side she used to lay on. Once he had gotten into bed, he laid with an arm raised knowing she would curl up next to him and lay her head on his chest. She did and he felt her smile against his bare chest as he places a kiss on the top of her head.

As she started to drift off Happy could feel her cling to him a little bit more and shift to get that exact level of comfort. She mumbled in a quiet voice, “Thank you for saving me Happy. I didn’t know how much more fight I had in me. That was too close a call today.”

He could feel the tears hitting his chest now and knew that she was finally processing just how real things had been earlier. “No need to thank me, Lex. I was glad to get there before he…” Hap felt the anger start to bubble at the thought of her being hurt in that way by a rogue member of the Myans.

She felt him tense and draped an arm over his abdomen in an effort to calm him, “I’m okay, Hap.” As he started to relax which relaxed her as well. Within minutes she was on the border of awake and sleep, the last thing she muttered sleepily was a simple “I love you, Happy.”

Hearing this made Happy’s heart swell with joy. He finally had his old lady back in his arms and his bed. He didn’t care what tomorrow or the next day may hold. All that matter was this moment that had been over ten years in the making and he was going to treasure it for as long as he could. He was actually dreading the morning because that would mean this moment had to end.

Sadly, that moment did come to an end and morning came along with the alarms going off. It also brought with it a phone call. One that carried bad news. The myan that attacked Lexie the night before had escaped and disappeared. The moment Hap told her; she was filled with conflicting emotions. Fear and anger. She still wanted the guys head on a pike for the hell he put her through the night before and if she hadn’t been so tired, she would have had it on one by her own doing. Happy did his best to get her to calm down which work about as well as baptizing a cat. He eventually gave up and went to take car of Ope before he got ready to take them both to the garage for the day.

As Lexie got dressed and ready for the day, she heard a commotion out with Happy and Opie prompting her to reach for the closest blunt object she found. She was hearing the dog barking and the sounds of a struggle coming form the living room area. Carefully she crept toward the living room to discover the escaped myan fighting to overpower Happy.

Wide eyed Lex flew into action to protect her man and his home, hitting the intruder in the back multiple time in an effort to get him away from Happy long enough for Hap to get the upper hand. In the melee Lex ended up taking an elbow to the bridge of the nose effectively breaking her nose. This only served to piss her off however and spurred her on to fight harder. She was even sure whose elbow it was nor did she rightfully care at the moment. Somehow during the struggle, a gun was found, and a shot was fired, stopping the altercation in an instant.

First there was the sound of the gun dropping to the floor, then the sound of a body dropping.  Lex, dropped to her knees somewhat in shock, Happy rushed to her making sure she wasn’t wounded beyond the broken nose and then to check the intruder for any signs of life before calling Tig and Chibs once again. This however when he arrived Chibs was not as calm as the night before.

Chibs arrived and went straight for Lex, yelling at her about how things had been calm as could be for the club until she came back. Yelling in his thick Scottish brogue, “What the hell’s going on here?! Not even back here for twenty-four hours and it all turns to shit! What did you bring back here with you? Huh?!?” He was all but in her face yelling at her which sparked her anger brining her out of the shock form having just killed someone.

Just as she was opening her mouth to fight back her uncle stepped in. “Chibs! Back off! How the hell would she have brought on a Myan beef when she was across the country on the opposite coast where they have a grand total of zero charters? Think about shit before you scream it as someone who hasn’t killed anyone before!” Tig was visibly upset as he pushed his way between Chibs and his niece, doing his best to calm her as well as check her over to make sure she was okay. Letting her know that Venus was worried about her too.

As Tig worked on separating Lex and Chibs he managed to walk her back to the bedroom just to get her away from the chaos of it all. Sitting on the edge of the bed talking to her trying to figure out how it all went down. More importantly he wanted to know how Lexie’s nose got broke. He had been told by Hap when he called and had brought Lex a clean shirt since the one, she had on was now blood stained. As he pulled it out from the inside of his cut he spoke, “How the hell did this all happen anyway?”

Lex shook her head and grumbled. “Well, I was getting dressed for the day while Happy walked Ope and I heard all hell break loose, I ran out to help, and ended up taking someone’s elbow to the face. Still have no clue if it was the now dead guy’s or Hap’s. Shit was too crazy. One of them had a gun on them, I’m figuring the one that’s dead, it fell to the floor I grabbed it and shot the guy.” The color drained from her face at her admission of her morning’s events as she looked to Tig who simply tucked her head under his chin and held her to him gently. She spoke again this time breaking her uncle’s heart with her words, “I should have never come out here. Chibs was right I’m back for not even a day and the shit storm stirs up again for you guys. I’m a god damn albatross.”

As she spoke Tig tightened his grip on her trying to convey with out words that she was wrong, only for her to push him away. She told him that she wanted to change and get her things gathered up that way it was already done. Reluctantly he left her to do so almost certain she just wanted to be left alone for a while. Rejoining the now arguing Happy and Chibs, Tig left them both know that Lex was not doing so well with this and that the Scotsman had most certainly not helped.

As the three argued over how to handle the situation Lex managed to clean herself up and stop the bleeding from her nose. She took the opportunity to sneak out with her backpack slung over one shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she would just simply walk to the shop, walk over to Tig’s place, or simply disappear for a few hours to clear her head. She just needed out of that house and away from the three bikers that were all too busy arguing to notice her sneaking away…

To Be Continued…

Part Eight

[devilrising]

Fallen Draco, Pt. 16

This story is following a prompt set by @mymindsmadness

Summary: AU where Draco is a fallen angel, and the way he gets his wings back is by guiding Harry in defeating Voldemort, but it all goes wrong when Draco starts falling in love with Harry.

Word Count (Part 16): 3,015

Word Count (Total): 51,359

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of abuse/torture (non-graphic), coming out (kind of...)

***

27th April, 1998

Alarms blare loudly, ringing throughout the dark house. Why can’t I ever seem to get any sleep?! I scrub a hand down my face and groan. Something warm moves against my cheek and I’m instantly awake, reaching for my wand on the bedside table. But as my eyes adjust to the dark, I see that it’s Harry. Warmth rises up my face, a deep blush covering the skin.

“Using me as a pillow, were you?” Harry teases gently as he kisses my forehead. I melt against him for a second. Then the alarms register once again with a loud chime.

“What’s the alarm for?” I ask Harry in the dark, my voice scratchy and groggy with sleep.

“Shit!” Harry shouts, leaping out of bed and tugging me after him. “It’s Narcissa! She’s awake.”

“Mother’s awake?!” I yell out too and rush to put on my dressing gown. Harry kisses my hairline swiftly and tugs me more firmly out of the door.

Mother has been put in my old room—which of course I already knew, but it’s weird to be walking in that direction and expecting to see someone else in it—and my heart skips multiple beats as we walk ever closer. ‘Walk’ being the operative word. Harry’s strong grip on my arm is the only thing stopping me from running, but he thinks that that would probably startle her a bit too much at this hour.

“Harry?” I ask, coming to a rather absurd conclusion about exactly what hour it must be. “What’s the time?”

“Oh, um,” Harry pulls his wand out from his pyjama bottoms and casts a quick Tempus charm. I chuckle as the colour drains from his face. “It’s, uh- thirty six past seven…”

“We slept through the entire day,” I groan. It’s what I’d suspected. Harry, apparently wanting to make up for the lost day, quickens his pace and pulls me after him.

There is a dim light peeking out from under the bedroom door, and I force myself to count to four and just breathe for a second. There’s no telling how Mother might be on the other side of the door, and I can’t allow myself to believe that she’ll be fine. I need to be prepared for bad news, as much as I’d like the opposite for once. Harry pushes me in front of him and nods to the handle. He wants me to open it. I open my mouth, trying to think of something to say to thank him, but then decide that there aren't nearly enough words to convey it properly. So I lean close and capture his lips in a kiss, morning—or, evening?—breath be damned. Harry snakes his arms around my waist, but instead of pulling me closer like I’d expected, he pushes me away.

“Narcissa is much more important, you can thank me properly later.” I ignore the smirk behind his voice and turn the handle.

Light pours out of the room into the corridor, and my eyes instinctively shut with a snap to avoid going blind.

“Draco?”

“Mother,” I breathe out, relief flooding my thoughts. I step into the room, Harry’s hand finding a spot on my lower back. “How are you?” This is the first time I’ve spoken to her, with a chance she’ll actually respond, in weeks. Sure, talking to her unconscious body was communicating of a sort, but she couldn’t actually reply. It was more of a one-sided information dump than a conversation.

“I’m well, actually,” she stands up from where she was sitting on the bed and meets me in the middle of the room. Despite the fact that a little while ago she was fatally wounded and fast asleep, she looks very healthy right now. Her pale skin is no longer cloudy, but much more like porcelain, and her hair looks vibrant against her face. “How are you dear?”

I feel a warm blush creep up my neck. “I’m good, Mother,” I say, as I pointedly ignore Harry’s creeping hand roaming around my belt. “I have quite a lot to tell you though…”

“I can see that,” she responds with a matter-of-fact tone and raised eyebrows, as she looks at Harry with a thoughtful expression only visible through her eyes.

“Good evening, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry says with a smile and a nod. “I’m glad to see that you’ve recovered nicely.”

“Thank you, Mr Potter. I believe you had a lot to do with my rehabilitation.”

Harry nods again. “It’s no problem.” He then looks over at me and grins. “I should let you have some time with your son,” he suggests, still facing me but obviously addressing Mother. His hand pulls away from my back, and I force myself not to react at the loss of contact.

Mother looks at me with a knowing gaze, a small smile setting in place as Harry leaves the room. “Now, tell me everything dear.”

I swallow hard, wondering where on earth to start. Eventually I settle on unwrapping the glamours around my wings. I didn’t even know they were in place until I had to remove them. Harry must have set them up, so as not to bombard Mother when she has just woken again. I wait, my nerves digging into my heart and clawing at me. As I feel the first brush of air against my feathers, Mother gasps. Unfortunately, I also hear the sound of fabric ripping open. There goes my dressing gown and Harry’s shirt. Distantly, I think to myself that I must remember to mend them.

“Draco!” She murmurs in amazement, awe evident in her voice. “Oh Merlin, they’re gorgeous!” She places her hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes with a joyous gaze. “They are so white,” she murmurs. “Can I touch them?”

I could never deny her that, not when she’s looking at me like I’m her entire purpose in life. “Of course,” I whisper, terrified of shattering the moment and making her turn away. I’ve always hated her shields, the way she hides everything from the world. So now that they aren’t there, I don’t want to make her raise them.

Mother smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim bedroom light. She spins me around, her hands switching shoulders as I face the doorway.

“Wow…” she breathes, running a reverent hand along the top of my right wing. The feathers tickle and twitch, eliciting a shudder at the odd sensation. I might never get used to it, but I will always allow it. “They are so soft, Draco.”

I hum in agreement, and her hand traces lines towards the outside of my wing. She runs it down the outside arc, smoothing down feathers as she goes. Another hand joins in, and now I have hands on both of my wings. My left is definitely more sensitive, I realise as Mother gently caresses it. I nearly moan out loud, but catch myself in the last second. That would have been embarrassing.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco,” Mother confesses when she turns me back around to face her. Her eyes are shining, a smile firmly pressed onto her lips. She’s willingly letting me see her, letting me understand her emotions. I pull her into a crushing hug, uncaring of the fact that we haven’t ever done this before.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I finally concede. A tear tracks down my cheek, leaving behind a shining trail.

Mother’s hand finds my hair, and she runs her fingers through it. “I’m here, Draco. Very much present, dear.” Her own tears fall out of her eyes, but I pointedly ignore the wetness I feel against my cheek. We don’t talk about things like this, so I don’t want to scare her off by acknowledging it. I might not be able to cope with that either.

“Why don’t you tell me about how you Rose?” Mother pulls away from the hug, rapidly turning around and walking back to the bed. She takes a second to compose herself as she sits, before offering me the armchair in the corner. “And about Mr. Potter, perhaps?”

I can hear the teasing in the second part of the question and stifle a groan. “Mother,” I whine.

“Now now, Draco. It’s perfectly natural.” I cringe at her tone. She only ever uses it when we’re talking about embarrassing subjects. “So, you’re a Risen Angel now. How did that come about?”

I heave a sigh of relief as the tone shifts and becomes more inquisitive. “As you know, I Fell in the Manor earlier this year,” I start.

Mother nods. “Yes, Lucius loved telling me all about it.” Her lips curl into a sneer of disgust. I’m sure that one day my parents loved each other, but those days ended when we were abused and tortured by his wand.

“Well, I managed to get a letter out to Harry, and he was able to bring me here,” I gesture around vaguely at Grimmauld Place. “Ever since then, I’ve been helping him win this war. The right side, this time,” I chuckle nervously. “With each piece of information I gave, or each mission we succeeded in, I slowly started Rising.”

Mother takes a minute to digest that, swallowing hard and wrapping her mind around it. “What was the Rising process like?” She asks eventually.

“Awful,” I laugh. “It started with growing the skeleton out of my back. It didn’t just slide out like in folktales, but my skin was torn open. Very painful.” I end the description there. Mother never has been good with blood, which I thought was rather ironic considering she prided herself on her pure blood. Prided, not prides. There is nothing to be proud about if that same pride results in genocide. “After that the feathers started to grow. Each time the skeleton folded back inside my skin and then re-emerged. It never became any less painful,” I say. “Actually, my feathers only became this white yesterday,” I explain. “I’m still quite sore, but Harry healed me quite well.”

“Is there anything different about it? I always thought that if an angel Fell, the chance of them Rising again was quite slim.”

It’s a good question. Once she found out what I was, she had been confused. For a start, being an angel is very rare. But even more so, being a male angel was one in a million. Probably more than. Mother had taken it into her hands to discover as much as possible in order to protect me. When I Fell, it had seemed like all of her hard work had been for nothing. Now that I’m sitting here in front of her, very much alive and healthy, she wants new answers. Ones that will explain our situation properly.

“Harry took me to a bookshop a few weeks ago, I believe it was the twelfth. Anyway, it was massive, with an even bigger collection of books. There was an entire section on Magical Creatures, and Harry managed to find a couple on Fallen Angels.”

Mother’s eyes widen, surprised to hear how easily we found information. That only lasts a moment though, replaced quickly with suspicion. “What is it, Draco? There’s something you’re not saying.”

I sigh. She always manages to pick me apart without much effort. “Yes. Last night Harry and I stayed up researching specifically about Risen Angels. We found that certain, uh, types of Risen Angels have unique abilities. Harry managed to narrow it down to about five types, and then I figured out which one I am.”

“And which one would that be?” Mother looks anxious, awaiting for my answer.

“I’m a Blackout Angel,” I explain. “I can control and warp light in any way imaginable.”

“Draco, do you know what this could mean for the war?” Her eyes have lit up now, like she’s delighted with this turn of events.

I sigh. “I do, but I’m not sure I’ll manage.” It feels weird, saying these words aloud. Harry would swat them away and assure me that we’ll figure it out, but Mother will be honest.

“Of course you will!” She exclaims. Well there goes that idea. “Draco dear, you were the top of all of your classes—except for that Granger girl who, let's be honest, won’t ever be beaten—and no one else has the ability to learn at the speed you do.” Mother shifts her hand to rest on my knee. “You will do fine, dear.”

I nod absentmindedly, not quite agreeing with her but not wanting to argue.

Mother breaks the silence, a random question filling the quiet. “Can I see?”

I tip my head to the right, eyebrows furrowing. “See what?”

“The skin. I want to check the healing process.” Ah, of course. Mother has always been rather adamant about checking injuries. Especially if they were caused by the man she married, or anyone else out of that group of monsters. I’m amazed she managed to sit through an explanation without jumping out of her skin.

“Well, you can try to look I guess. I can’t promise you’ll see anything.” I stand from the armchair and untie the dressing gown I’d put on a few minutes ago. It falls to the ground after a second of twisting it around my wings, leaving me in Harry’s cozy shirt. I feel a pang of regret as I spell it off me, the holes ripped in to compensate for my wings glaring up at me, but fold it neatly regardless. I take a second to pull my tracksuits up slightly, making sure they don’t ride down too low on my hips. Happy that I won’t accidentally flash my mother, I spin around and crouch before her.

Her cold hand gently touches my back, letting me know she’s started. From there, it slowly crosses my skin, inching towards the base of my wings. The inch of bare bone still juts out sharply, but now there is some kind of leathery skin covering it. Mother prises the feathers back and peers at my skin. Her fingertip traces the fragile skin, spiralling ever closer to the base. I flinch at a sudden twinge of sharp pain, and the hand instantly withdraws.

“Are you okay?” Mother asks in a quiet voice.

“Fine,” I reply. “Just a bit tender.”

She hums, but turns me around all the same. “You’ve got some bruising, but it should go down with time,” she says. “It seems that Mr. Potter has done a lovely job.”

I smile to myself at her casual approval of Harry, and redress quickly. After spelling the clothes to fit over my wings without tearing them—any more than they already are—I sit back down in the armchair and look at my mother.

“On the topic of Mr. Potter,” she starts. I stifle another groan. “What exactly is happening there?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat trying to prevent me talking. I shake my head and work out an answer that won’t give too much away immediately. “We’re close.”

Mother rolls her eyes in a display very unlike her. “Draco, dear, we both know that’s rubbish.”

I open my mouth to try to argue, but she gives me a pointed look. Sighing, I say, “Okay. We are very close.”

Mother looks on the verge of breaking. “Draco, you’re dating. You can’t disregard the way you look at each other.” She tips her head, analysing me in a rather unsettling way. “You also can’t ignore his hand on your lower back, and the way he tried really hard to make sure I was alright.” She pauses. “Plus, he truly has done a marvellous job on your back.”

Heaving a sigh, I crack. “Okay, yes. We’re together.”

“Perfect!” Mother exclaims.

“What?!” I ask. “Aren’t you angry? I’m gay, Mother!”

“Of course you’re gay dear, I was never questioning that.” She looks surprised at my outburst, like she thought I was insane for thinking she didn’t already know.

“Then why were you so insistent on marrying me off to a pureblood bride?”

“Oh Draco, that was what Lucius wanted, not me. I always thought that was old-fashioned.”

“But you never said anything!” I’m confused, not able to absorb any of the information.

“Correct. I couldn’t possibly refuse him, he would have put plans in place for the marriage regardless of what I said.” She pauses again, a glint taking over in her blue eyes. “Now though, he has no say over your life.”

I feel a small bubble of joy well up in my chest, and I allow a grin to spread over my mouth. “Thank you Mother.”

She smiles softly, and shuffles over on the bed so she’s sitting closer to me. Her hand rises and moves to my cheek. She smooths it over my skin in a way she hasn’t since I was a young child. “I am proud of you, Draco,” she says. “Proud of the fact that you managed to Rise, proud that you’ve finally found someone who makes you happy, and proud that you are helping the right side of the war win. You will single-handedly turn your fate away from the path your father and I put you on.”

Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, and I rapidly blink them away. Mother has never said that before. “Th- Thank you,” I stutter out.

She offers me another smile before standing from the bed. “Now, I’m hungry and am going to fix myself a meal. Would you and Mr. Potter like one too?”

I grin back. “Harry and I would love to join you for dinner.”

She accepts my correction of Harry’s name with a nod and a smile, and turns to leave the room. As she gets to the doorway, she pauses. “Would you mind giving me directions to the kitchen, dear?”

I chuckle beneath my breath and tell her how to get there, as well as where the bathroom is in regards to the kitchen. She nods once more and makes her way down the hallway and then the stairs.

***

A/N: Two days late... Sorry for the delay, but I was really tired and didn’t want to put something out that I wasn’t happy with. I hope you’re doing well and that you’re staying safe Xx

Masterlist — Previous Part — Next Part

@draconianhorntail @p3trovass @cowboy-simp @queeneyart @ohheavenlylord @h0pehauntedmyw0rld @unsolicted-chick-picks @itsclayclay @harrybpoetry @slash-slut @jianing2603 @magical-fairy-princess-stuff @give-me-the-queer @youmakeprettybeautiful @hello-i-am-moi @slytherclaw134689 @sinnysin-sin @lafilleetlechatnoir @absolutetrashcan @irrelevantdrarry @glo-up-goddess @birdy1032 @d-addict @pizzasandwich72 @madison-is-a-small-baby @joshoriande @sugarhoneyice-t @imaginemymemories @shipperofalltheships @uniiicornen @thewanderingnomadsworld @randominternetloser @levi7755 @localxmermaid @biyaaaaaaaaaa @just-some-bibliophile @pizzabitch @champagnemonarch

[whumpsideblog]

Part One//Part Two//Part Three

 Calum was a Collector. That’s what they called him, and those like him anyway. They collected the payments, and when payments weren’t made, they collected the person on file as being closest to the debtor. He had done this a thousand times before. He knew pain and torture like the back of his hand, he’d spent years of his life doing this to innocent people. He could tune out the screams, the begging and pleading him to stop, the smell of blood no longer made him sick and he knew just what to do to harm them but keep them alive as long as possible. All this time, all these unfortunate people, only two had died at his hands.

 Jason was different though. Jason didn’t beg for mercy, Jason didn’t ask why this had to happen to him and he didn’t fight back. He calculated his choices carefully, he was ready to do whatever it took to get free and if Calum so much as hesitated it seemed to upset him. He wasn’t used to this kind of submission, someone so calmly deciding what pain be inflicted on themselves, hell, Jason was creative combining multiple things at a time, Calum had kept people for months and in that time only broken a finger or two, while Jason seemed to know, or think he knew, how much he could handle at one time. 

 When he came back in the morning Jason was a mess. He was trembling, letting out choked sobs. Blood was running down his neck and soaking the collar of his shirt from where he tried too hard to lean back. He looked horrible, and Calum felt the need to apologize to him as he took out his phone and snapped a quick picture of him, face swollen and bloody, tears mixing with dried blood, his nose horribly out of place. Once the picture was taken he was quick to unlock the collar first, and then cut the rope. Almost immediately Jason slumped forward, Calum having to catch him so he wouldn’t smash his face on the floor. 

 “We’re not doing anymore today.” He told him seriously, freeing him from the handcuffs as well. 

 “N-no, I… I have to keep going… please…” he whimpered as he was laid down. “I… I can handle it…”

 “No, you can’t, you need to stop.” He cut the rope binding his ankles before leaving him there for a moment. He took the clean rag kept by the bathtub in the room, soaking it with warm water before returning. He gently cleaned away the blood from his face and neck, though Jason winced and whimpered when he did so. “Your body can only handle so much, believe me, I know, you need a rest.”

“A rest won’t get me anywhere… I have to pay all this off, please, beat me, whip me, cut my hair, just do something!” He begged. Calum had never heard someone tearfully beg him to continue to hurt them, something about it made him sick to his stomach. 

 “No!” He said sternly. “Just calm down, you have all the time in the world to pay this off, one short break won’t kill you.” Once Jason was cleaned up and got up and went to rinse all the blood out of the rag. Once he was done he told Jason to just lay there for a moment, leaving the room.

 He knew he’d be in a lot of shit for this, but at this rate Jason was going to be dead in a week, and then where would they be? His phone was already buzzing, no doubt his boss telling him to get his ass back in there and break that poor kid, but for once he ignored it. He was going to be in so much fucking trouble.

 He made his way to the infirmary in the building. He showed up there often, so no one questioned it when he went searching through the countless drugs kept in a cabinet. Most of them were poisons, or hard drugs meant to cause extreme pain, even paralysis in some cases. It took him forever to find some kind of pain killer, those weren’t usually needed by Collectors after all. 

 He took the pain killers and got him a cold water bottle, taking it back to the room. He opened the door, expecting to find the younger man curled up on the floor where he left him. Instead, he was on his knees next to the drawers where Calum kept most of his supplies. He’d found the stun gun, just as Calum opened the door Jason gave himself a shock. It didn’t last long though, as he immediately dropped the device.

 “What the fuck are you doing?!” He rushed over to him, dropping the water and painkillers before dragging him away from the drawers, pulling him farther when he weakly tried to reach for the stun gun.

 “I-if you won’t do it then I- I thought I could… do it myself…” He groaned in pain, every movement no doubt exasperating his previous injuries.

 “That isn’t how this works idiot. I told you, you’re taking a break today, I don’t care if I have to force you to.” He left him in the middle of the room, grabbing more rope and going back to him. Jason tried to struggle away but Calum was able to easily hold him down. He bound his arms securely behind his back, then bound his ankles once again. “You’re making a really good case as to why I shouldn’t ever untie you again.” He said with a sigh, going to get the discarded items. 

 He came back and pulled him into a sitting position, ordering him to open his mouth, which he did. He dropped one pill in his mouth before holding the bottle up to his lips. He repeated this once more before sighing, sitting down more comfortably beside him. 

 “You really love Lev this much, huh?” He asked after being silent for some time. Jason nodded slowly.

 “Love ‘im to death…” he murmured. 

 “I can’t imagine loving someone so much that I let myself be tortured.” He said, shaking his head. 

 “Lev… means the world to me… I’d rather it be me here than him…” 

 “Well… Lev can wait. He knows you’re alive, I have to keep him updated, and as long as you’re here and alive, he’s safe.” He started to get up. “Speaking of which, I should get today’s picture to him. I’m sure he’s worried sick about you.” He felt the need to get out of the building, at least for now. His boss was without a doubt pissed off at him, and he was going to pay for straying from his job like this. At the very least, he could postpone it, even just for a little bit.

 ***

  It was late when he returned. He stayed out longer on purpose, he hoped that when he got back he’d be able to check on Jason and then go to bed. He wasn’t that lucky though, the minute he stepped inside he was grabbed, dragged off to his boss’s office. He didn’t even try to struggle, he knew it was pointless. 

 He was taken to the office and dropped on the floor, forced to his knees. His boss, Mr. Savaro didn’t look the least bit pleased with him. 

 “Calum, this isn’t like you.” He said, rising from his desk chair and approaching him. Savaro was a tall man, and while Calum wasn’t short or small by any means, he always felt like a small, deeply in trouble child when forced in front of him like this. He was an older man, not elderly though, and certainly had no need for the cane he carried with him everywhere, which Calum was sure that a blade was hidden inside. “Going against orders, ignoring me, why, you even tried to run, didn’t you?”

 “I’m sorry sir.” He said quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor. Savaro jabbed the end of the cane under his chin, tilting his head up.

 “You seem to forget that I've been doing you a favor these past few years.” He said sternly. “I don’t tolerate fuck ups on the best of days, much less from charity cases like yourself.” 

 “I’m sorry sir.” He repeated. By now he knew that groveling for forgiveness was the only way to go in these cases. 

 “Yes, you will be.” In one swift motion Savaro swung the cane, cracking it against Calum’s face. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay up right. He knew that if he moved it would only be worse. The cane slammed against his temple, and then caught his ear, but he still didn’t move. “Tell me boy, what did your assignment request last?” He asked.

 “Stress position sir. All night.” He knew where this was going and he wasn’t the least bit happy about it. 

 “Ohh, a fun one, hm?” He sneered. “I suppose I can leave you here overnight. At least I’ll know where you are.” He turned to one of the men waiting by the door, giving him a list of things to gather. The man left and Savaro knelt down in front of him, tangling a hand in his hair and forcing him to look up at him. “Since you don’t want to do your job I guess that you can take some pain off his shoulders.”

 “Yes sir…” He said quietly. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been subjected to this, but it was by far one of his least favorites. He found it hard to believe Jason was able to willingly subject himself to this all night. Eventually the man returned, and Savaro took the items before dismissing both of them, so just him and Calum were in the room. Calum was almost grateful for this. 

 “Over here, now.” Savaro ordered, stepping over to a chair inside the office. Calum did as he said, he stood stock still as his ankles were bound, as he was made to cross his arms over his chest, his wrists bound and then his arms. He was forced to kneel once more, rope fashioned around his neck like a collar, and a length tied to the back of the chair, making it so that if he wished to breath, he would have to keep himself bent backwards. All. Night. Despite his impending dread for the night ahead of him, he did as he was told, he didn’t fight or protest. He knew he’d never get anywhere. Savaro stepped back to look him over, and Calum kept his eyes averted. He hated feeling this helpless, this vulnerable. 

 “Hopefully this will teach you not to disobey me. I don’t want this becoming a common occurrence.” He said as he used a strip of cloth to blindfold him. Calum didn’t see it as necessary, but he knew better than to question him. He opened his mouth, prepared with his automated “yes sir” but as soon as he did he was roughly gagged. He squirmed uncomfortably in his bonds, it had been years since he was last in this position and he’d hoped he’d never be this way again. “Let’s hope you’re back to normal in the morning, Calum.” He felt that awful cane tap against his knee. “I’d hate to do something even worse to you.”

 He didn’t bother trying to respond through his gag, just listened to the retreating footsteps and the slam of a shutting door, leaving him to himself and his discomfort for the rest of the long night. 

[phxse-shifter]

Love Fool

Summary: Elaine is accused by many of trying to betray Dr. X because she refused PROJECT-X. Eventually, he began to believe those accusations, forcing her to prove her loyalty. A rewrite of the original story posted on my art blog.

Word count: 2,738 

Inspo

          “Crazy, for thinking that my love could hold you, and I’m crazy for                             trying, I’m crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you.”

The elusive, merciless, and often cruel wife of Dr. X found herself a part of the recent scandals currently boiling over in the Midas Group. Elaine, who loved her husband dearly, and would do anything for him, and has already done so, was being accused of wishing to betray him after seven years of marriage. The rumors were petty at first, she thought, but when it turned to scandals, Elaine scorned them all and her anger knew no bounds. The reasoning was all because she did not wish for her husband’s creation, the PROJECT- X, to seep through her veins. To the Midas Group, it was the final step. The determiner. Once you were injected with PROJECT-X, there was no running away from Dr. X.

The seven years of marriage could not defend her. Many thought she was using him just for that title of “Wife of Dr. X.” No one cared about the love she openly showed to him. They accused her still. Elaine had her reasons for denying it. When her husband finally trapped Christine with the help of Prince, and forced PROJECT-X on him, he changed drastically. She doesn’t know how he was able to counter it to some degree, but it did change him that night some of the Genius League participants went over to the one of the owned mansions for experiments  in Romania. Elaine did not want to change for the worst, being turned into some monster who’s humanity was stripped away entirely. Part of her was wary of PROJECT- X.

All of this scandal which stressed her finally overflowed. Even though initially, her husband didn’t care whether or not she injected herself with it, finally decided to “care.” When she entered their suite that night, he was idly sitting down, as if he were waiting for her. Immediately she could see that he looked angry.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Do you hear the rumors?” He snapped. “They’re all saying it. That you’re ‘planning’ something, or want to leave me. Is that true?”

Elaine flinched. He never snapped at her, which made her eyes widen. She crossed her arms, willing herself to be strong.

“You don’t possibly believe them, do you?” She asked, caution in her voice. “You know that I love you. I would never do such a thing to you.”

“I don’t know what to believe!” he stood, staring and yelling at her with such malice it weakened her.  “Why don’t you want PROJECT- X? There is no logical reason as to why you do not want it!”

Elaine’s hands loosened as she took a step back from him. She shook her head. So he really did believe them. The poison finally spread to him, and now she would be put in a position where she would have to prove herself or face consequences she herself had to dish out to those that showed disloyalty. She couldn’t believe this. In fact, the weakness she currently showed turned to malice.

“How dare you accuse me!” She exclaimed. “I was loyal to you for all of these years, willingly helped you create your precious project, and helped you get rid of your disgusting enemies and you’re telling me that you want to believe what irrelevant sons-of-bitches want to say about me?!”

“Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

“Don’t… Want to see me?” Elaine repeated softly, hugging herself. “I-I can’t believe… I can’t…”

Elaine looked at him one more time, but his expression was unwavering. She simply turned on her heel and left him standing there. She was more than hurt. For the first time , Elaine felt betrayed, as if her heart was just ripped straight out of her chest for no reason. Where would she sleep tonight? All of the other suites were taken, and it wasn’t like she could immediately get a makeshift one. The only place she could go to was the lounge area, which did hold couches. She supposed she could sleep here tonight, then see if she could find someplace else in the morning.

Sitting on the painfully stiff couch, Elaine could not force tears to stop and ended up sobbing, hugging herself again. It was cold, and she didn’t have any blanket to keep her warm, which only made her sob louder, and clutch her hairs, pulling. No one could help or comfort her. She felt truly alone, save for the footsteps she heard.

“I- Doctor? Elaine?”

Elaine scoffed, trying to fix her composure. She forgot that at night, Kaito would always be up doing some experiment he wanted to get over with for Dr. X, and getting coffee when he needed it. Her messy hair and wet cheeks would do nothing to help her.

“You’re crying,” he notes. “What the hell happened to you?”

“My husband is what happened—if I can even fucking call him that now,” she hissed.

Kaito came over to her then, sitting next to her.

“Hey, is it because of all that shit about you that’s circulating around?” He asked. “He actually believes that? Absolutely ridiculous.”

It occurred to Elaine then, that Kaito, along with Sharon oversaw the PROJECT- X experiments as decreed by Dr. X. If he wanted her to have PROJECT-X so bad, then she would get it, and then he would regret having ever accused and yelled at her.

“PROJECT- X… Can you make an injection?”

Kaito looked at her, brows raised.

“…I can. In fact, Sharon’s helping me with what I was doing, but I figure your husband wouldn’t be so mad if I don’t finish what he wanted. I have to ask though, is that truly what you want?”

“I… It is,” she responds. “Give me the injection.”

Kaito helps her up, and leads her to the laboratory he and Sharon shared. When they entered, it was like it was morning, and the bright lights bothered her briefly. Kaito immediately gets Sharon and tells her of the situation. Elaine could have sworn she heard a curse from the often stoic woman as she came out and approached Elaine.

“He what?!” Sharon exclaimed. “I have a mind to go over to him and chew his head off!”

“Don’t,” Elaine sighed. “He was angry. He might hurt you.”

Sharon had to bend in order to cup Elaine’s face and turn it towards her, to fully survey what happened to her. She noticed her eyes were red, and the messy hair which she tried to smooth back.

“And you cried? He made you cry? Forgive me, but he is utter trash,” Sharon hissed.

Elaine shrugged. Around her, no one could have objections towards him or insult him, but Elaine didn’t care. He was all of those things to her now. Trash for believing strangers over his own wife. Trash for kicking her out without even allowing herself an explanation. The more she thought about it, the angrier she would get. She just wanted to get this over with.

“Can you make the injection? You and Kaito. I give you full authorization,” Elaine asked strongly.

Sharon looked at Kaito and nodded.

“Alright. Get her ready.”

Sharon helped Elaine to the steel examination table located in the room, and told her to lie down. She moved away only to place gloves on her hands and get the empty syringes ready. Elaine saw a total of three. Kaito, on the other hand, was at a cabinet that required multiple means of identification. At some point, she sees him clip off a piece of his hair and place it into the scanner. The cabinet unlocked finally, and, of course, he took out three vials. One which glowed a dark blue, another a dark green, and lastly, the one that glowed the brilliant red.

Elaine feels her left arm lift, and sees Sharon rolling up her sleeve. She makes three precise markings on her arm, all 3 inches apart. She then takes a cream and rubs it on the three spots. Elaine recognized it as EMLA cream, used to numb the skin before injections.

“The needle is bigger than normal ones,” Sharon explains. “Even I needed it.”

“Fifteen minutes before the injection,” Kaito instructs.

More waiting. Elaine sighed, but she supposed Dr. X didn’t make them oversee PROJECT-X for his health. She averted her eyes.

“So… The two of you have PROJECT-X. Yet the two of you seem the same,” she notes.

“PROJECT-X was your husband’s bright idea after he wanted to exploit the power of supernaturals and amplify it to dangerous heights. Since not everyone is born supernatural, he also wanted to see whether or not it could give power to the subject,” Kaito explained. “For example… myself.”

Elaine gasped. “Yourself?”

“I wasn’t born with any sort of special power,” Kaito responded. “Before I started working for Dr. X, I was distraught by that, so I did tests on myself and created cybernetics in my own body, which gave me the power I wanted, as well as passive abilities. Your husband wasn’t satisfied by that, however, so…”

Sharon chimed in. “He made me inject Kaito with PROJECT-X, under his supervision, despite him not needing it. Then, a couple of days from when that happened, I had to undergo it. Dr. X was going to be the one that injected me, but I snapped at him for making me inject Kaito, so he had him do it instead.”

Elaine opened her mouth to speak, feeling some sort of guilt, but couldn’t speak.

“It’s not your fault,” Kaito says, noticing her abrupt change. “Though we would love if you were more mindful to the bullshit he puts us through sometimes. I’m not going to sugarcoat it… There are days we can’t even sleep because he gets so pissed off if we don’t finish what he wants in time. That leads us to even skipping sleep for the night entirely.”

“Preposterous,”  Elaine sighed. “How can he expect his plans to come to fruition if our lead scientists can’t even get proper sleep? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

There are times Elaine had to force Sharon and Kaito be silent  whenever Dr. X assessed their experiments, giving them no defense when it was needed. She would do that no longer. In fact, she was glad that the pair would be overseeing her injection.

“Before you ask,” Sharon mentioned. “There are no regrets. As long as you keep Kaito and I together, of course. We are your lead scientists, so there is no room to separate us.”

“Noted.”

Kaito looked at his watch, as he was keeping track of the time and cleared his throat. “Fifteen minutes.”

It was time. Kaito instructed Elaine to lie down, and he reached for the three vials and placed each liquid into it’s own syringe. He picked up the blue one first, and had Sharon hold the green and red one.

“You will be in excruciating pain,” Kaito says seriously. “The blue protects your bodily functions and organs, but does not protect you from the pain you’ll feel. The green amplifies the power of the actual PROJECT-X injection you’ll get. The green isn’t necessary for all injections, but I plan on giving you a gift when the effects wear off, since Dr. X put you in this position. Are you ready?”

“Do it.”

Kaito injected her with the syringe containing the blue liquid. When she’s injected, she feels a strange coldness, as if her insides were numb. Immediately, she shivers. This felt worse than the cold from earlier. Sharon hands him the green syringe, and he injected Elaine with it then in the middle mark on her skin. The amplification caused her to shake uncontrollably, to where Kaito had to hold her down. Elaine felt her heart beating rapidly. She looked at Kaito, but he had no words for her. He warned her of this.

While he held Elaine, he motioned for Sharon to do the last injection. She walked over, and in the last mark she made on Elaine’s left arm, she injected the red liquid. That is when she couldn’t control herself anymore. Elaine screamed, the pain coarsing through her. Kaito still held her down, no matter how much she thrashed about. Elaine grasped her hairs for the second time, moving her bangs out of the way with no care if the pair saw the scars on the right side of her face. All she could see is red.

“I-I can’t see!”

“We know,” Sharon tells her. “It will go away, I promise.”

Elaine’s blood felt like it was boiling, changing her on the inside, infusing her with hell. She couldn’t stop sounds of pain, and held on to Kaito for dear life. This is what the pair—and others went through? She couldn’t imagine Sharon screaming or whimpering like she currently is doing, nor could she imagine the same of Kaito. What would this do to her? Would she recognize herself in the morning?

“M-Make… Make it stop!”

“I’m sorry,” Kaito tells her. “It’s almost over.”

Elaine’s exclamations of pain turned to soft whimpers, an indication that the initial effects of the injection was almost over. She blacked out moments later, tears running down her cheeks.

Around 3am, Elaine wakes. She notices her clothes are changed, and she is only wearing a white robe with her undergarments underneath. There were holographic monitors around her, keeping track of her vitals, and probably one of the “passive traits” of Kaito’s cybernetics. One of the monitors began to beep as soon as she woke, and Kaito comes out. He looked relieved to see her awake and immediately went over to her.

“You’re awake. Are you okay?”

“Somewhat. Did… Did you guys have to undress me?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t dare. I asked Sharon to. The PROJECT-X injections make the body scorch in the first few hours of injection, way above normal body temperature,” he explained. “You have to wear as much light clothing as possible until it wears off, or you could suffer from a variety of ailments, even heatstroke. The robe was constructed by myself, which uses the natural air around you to cool your body.”

Elaine nodded, and attempted to stand, but her legs wobbled and Kaito had to help her down from the steel table. He helped her to the chair and Elaine thought it peculiar that the monitors which checked her vitals followed her as well. Kaito hands her ice cold water, and she drinks greedily.

“Unfortunately, we have to let your husband know. I have to ring the bell,” Kaito warns her.

Elaine didn’t respond, so Kaito took that as initiative to get Sharon, telling her that Elaine was awake, and then went for the bell. It was necessary, so all would know an individual chose to take PROJECT-X, including Dr. X. Every time he heard the bell, Elaine saw delight in his face. She wondered what reaction he would give this time. Sharon is by her side as Kaito rings the loud bell.

Not even a full ten minutes and Dr. X bursts in the room, looking around, yet not noticing Elaine yet.

“You better have an explanation. I didn’t authorize any injections,” he hissed.

Kaito rolled his eyes. “You did when you accused your own wife of trying to betray you.”

He motioned to Elaine, and seeing her weakened state made him freeze.

“Elaine, you-“

“Leave her alone, Doctor,” Sharon snapped. “You had no right to accuse her. This is your fault.”

“You will hold your tongue-“

“She will not,” Elaine jumped in. “You hurt me. You betrayed my trust. I don’t want to see your face.”

He attempted to approach her, but Elaine turned her head.

“I don’t want to see you,” she repeated. “The same way you didn’t want to see me earlier.”

“Will you please listen-“

“Get OUT!” Elaine screamed at him.

Her screech shocked him, she could tell. His demeanor changed, and she could even see guilt rising in his eyes, but it was too late. He’d hurt her, and it would take a long time for her to forgive him, if she even wanted to think about forgiveness. She found herself sobbing easily, shaking her head.

“I was crazy,” she said weakly. “For thinking that my love could hold you.”

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: Dante’s Stars by Pretani

fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

pairing: Violet Baudelaire/Klaus Baudelaire

word count: 94k, complete

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: Yes

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: I’m fucking crying it’s so beautiful

Bottom line: The one and only Violet/Klaus epic, read it and bawl your eyes out (def read the warnings first tho)

It’s a canon-divergence AU where the Baudelaires stage their own deaths to escape Count Olaf. In canon the three Baudelaire orphans—inventor Violet, bookworm Klaus, and baby Sunny—are hounded from guardian to guardian by cartoonish villain Olaf, who will stop at nothing to get his hands on their fortune. Olaf murders or incapacitates every single adult who spares two seconds of sympathy for these kids, leaving a wide swathe of destruction in his wake. In this fic the Baudelaires have decided to wipe the slate clean and assume new identities.

I have mentioned in the past how salty I am about the Baudelaires’ characters being sidelined for Snicket the narrator, Olaf the villain, and/or sundry other bit-players (in the Netflix show the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender p much steals every scene they’re in). In canon we’re not really privy to the kids’ inner lives. This fic avoids that pitfall by sticking with tightly focused third-person Violet and Klaus POVs.

The thing this fic does really well is instill a pervasive sense of dread/paranoia which is remarkable because for the first 25% absolutely nothing ominous happens. The orphans get taken in by a slightly addled, very nice old lady and they just … live in her house. For free. While she cooks for them. And every morning Violet and Klaus hook up in her barn.

Ok back up so the ship they’re passengers on goes down in a storm, all hands lost, the Baudelaires are presumed drowned with the rest. Which is positively providential. The first event of any import to occur is that Klaus swipes some cash from a dead man’s wallet. Violet has ethical qualms but Klaus quashes them by pointing out that Sunny’s starving:

”I’d do anything for her,” he said. “Even become a thief or a murderer.”

Then his dark eyes found Violet’s. “I’d do it for you, too.”

So on the one hand I think this is rather extra. I mean, what possible use could a dead man have had for that money? Money that could put actual food in Sunny’s stomach. The Baudelaires are keenly aware that justice does not equal unquestioning obedience to authority and I think their exposure to a raft of tyrannical and unjust authority figures has hammered that home. They’re down with bending the rules because they know the rules are never even-handedly applied anyway (ie. the show trial at Hotel Denouement, the farcical final exam at Prufrock Academy). On the other hand I remember how uneasy they felt about stealing Hal’s keys in Hostile Hospital, and that was barely a misdemeanor! A friend of mine astutely pointed out how Violet is always trying to behave in any given situation the way their parents would have wished, whereas Klaus takes a pragmatic approach: do whatever keeps his sisters safe. And that is a very interesting contrast and one I want to see explored further.

They get on a train. Things that happen: Klaus notices when Violet is down in the dumps or angry or upset or in this case, wistfully jealous of other people who lead “normal” lives, bustling all around them. He’s not in love with her yet but noticing is the first step. Violet atm is super focused on being the elder sister, the adult in the room, the One In Charge. They get off the train and as soon as they blow into town Violet gets catcalled and propositioned. One of the themes of this fic is the horrendous baseline level of violence against women, some of it normalized and casual like the catcalling. The Big Bad Villain of the piece is literally a guy who’s murdered multiple girlfriends on account of them fridging his ass, since he appears to think that women owe him sex. And this man’s driving ambition is to add Violet to his list of conquests.

So often, men treated her as little more than an object … Klaus was different. He saw her, the woman she was inside.

HOW COULD SHE NOT FALL FOR HIM?? Is there another man she could learn to trust enough to fall in love with? However I’m getting ahead of the story. Klaus is still in the phase where he’s awakening to his attraction to Violet:

She was mother and sister, soft skin and tender strength, and he hid his face in her neck. Like a child, she rocked him gently, cradling his head.

I have to protect her, even if it’s from myself.

He couldn’t take this, his brave, beautiful sister, so near … the knowledge of what those men wanted to do to her. I”ll kill them … And what he wanted …

God but it kills me, Klaus thinking that his attraction to Violet is as noxious as those vile men and their rapacious stares. Klaus himself otoh is president of the Violet Baudelaire Fan Club. The contrast could not be more marked. Look at him building her up when she’s about ready to to give up on picking a lock because she’s lost her hair ribbon:

”I’m done, Klaus. I don’t have anything else to give”. ”Vi … “ he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. “You’re a brilliant inventor,” he told her. “It’s who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don’t need your ribbon.”

The unwarranted parallel that he draws between himself and a bunch of sexual predators is the source of so much angst and pining:

Is that what I am? A pervert?

She’ll blame herself for this

Well, well, well, if it isn’t ye olde I’m-Leaving-Her-For-Her-Own-Good-Lest-My-Perverted-Attraction-To-Her-Despoil-Her-Innocence. I am absolute trash for it every time, film at 11.

”I love you, Vi … I’m in love with you.” He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.

THEIR LOVE IS A CRIME!!! Could these babies be more pure??

They’d always had an extraordinary connection. It was the reason for their seamless partnership, their ability to support one another … But now, the bond that had kept them alive was killing him. How could anything ever be right again?

”Vi, I’m sorry … I want to be your brother, but I can’t … I want to be more than that … I don’t know what to do.” ”Kiss me,” she said, “and be both.”

THATS IT THATS A WRAP I CAN NOW DIE HAPPY. That “kiss me and be both” is PERFECTION.

And she knew she’d never willingly give herself to anyone but him.

she’d loved him even then. Who could tell when they had crossed the line? It was already too late.

cross the line what line??? they were made for each other.

”You know, we missed the sunrise,” he said, nose to nose with his sister.

Violet and Klaus carve an extra hour out of their morning to go make out in the barn. I shit you not these kids spend a whole month without progressing past first base because Klaus doesn’t want to “pressure” Violet into anything she’s not ready for. Violet, for her part, is beginning to suspect there’s something wrong with her person; why hasn’t he even tried to take her top off? Thank you #Patriarchy for teaching us that desirability is the measure of a woman’s worth. God they are so thirsty. This bitch almost fell over the first time he touched her tits:

“Vi,” he spoke into her hair, voice breaking. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to —“ But she only titled her head, to meet his mouth in a feverish kiss.

So Klaus and Sunny are having a snow fight and Violet tugs her glove off to tousle his hair and it’s THE SEXIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN BYE. True story after I read this fic I legitimately thought that “Vi” was a pet name Klaus called her by in canon, and when I finally finished the books much much later and realized that it wasn’t—well, it should have been.

There is a fairy tale about a princess who disguises herself in the skin of a donkey to escape the attentions of her lecherous father the king. Violet and Sunny discuss it. Violet points out that rape is wrong because rape is rape, because it is coercive, not because it’s incest. I love it when fic highlights the fairytale parallels to the Baudelaires’ situation, and I feel like Donkeyskin was such a spot-on choice because it’s all about surviving sexual assault and learning to make oneself vulnerable again afterwards? Klaus is the prince who sees through her disguise and falls head over heels in love with her CHANGE MY MIND. On the subject of happily ever after:

”Is that what you think I want? A fairytale? A walk down the aisle in a white dress?" He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Most girls think about those things, don't they?" "I don't," she told him. "I prefer not to. And as for children…well…I love them. That's why I don't want any of my own … how selfish would I be, to bring another little life into this? Another hostage they could use against us. Imagine how awful it would be if…" She shook her head. "No children… not ever. I couldn't protect them." And she turned to him with a soft look. "It's no sacrifice, Klaus. Not for me. I've already been through a… a wedding, you know." He felt her shudder, and she averted her eyes. "I won't be sorry if I never see another wedding dress again."

My dudes, when you have children each and every one of them is a hostage to fortune because of course they are. Also, Violet’s traumatized by the whole idea of being a bride, after going through the wringer of her fake wedding to Olaf. Olaf put Sunny in a cage to compel her compliance, and that’s what the Big Bad in this fic does too. He says things like “You’re a sick little bitch, aren’t you? Spreading your legs for your own brother” which turns their beautiful relationship into this ugly depraved thing to be ashamed of. I mean, this guy was literally a voyeur who would watch them from his hidey-hole while they were being intimate?? My god I would feel so unclean. And the worst part is, he overheard them calling each other by their real names not their aliases, so now he knows who they are and since the Baudelaires are still on the lamb this is bad. It gets pretty dark pretty fast.

“He won't want you anymore! No one's gonna want you when we're done!"

So he kidnaps and rapes Violet. Klaus and Sunny rescue her, dispatch the villain (Klaus’s earlier “I’d do anything” for his sisters, including becoming “a thief or a murderer,” acquires sudden resonance), and that’s when fucking Count Olaf shows up!!!! These kids just cannot catch a break. Turns out the Big Bad was actually working for Count Olaf all along. Olaf’s plan is still the same plan from The Bad Beginning where he plotted to steal the Baudelaire fortune by marrying Violet. Since Count Olaf has never in his life paid a henchman a salary, he was keeping the Big Bad sweet by promising to let him ravish Violet first. Let the full enormity of that sink in. Oh wait a minute Olaf isalso bent on knocking Violet up asap so the union can’t be dissolved on non-consummation grounds, or somesuch:

"You look at me as if I were a usurper, boy, about to steal something of yours. Tell me…" He gestured at Violet. "Is she yours?"

Why would you do this to me??????? This is so, so painful. Olaf uses an electric cattle prod on Klaus and makes Violet watch??? It’s ok though the Baudelaires prevail in the end, and emerge from the bloodstained ordeal as the family they are. My kink will forever be Violet and Klaus praising each other’s bravery and resourcefulness. They! Are! So! Proud! and! Supportive! Of! Each! Other! This line from earlier in the fic gets me every time:

I’ve failed them. This was his greatest fear, worse than death or any torment fate could devise. In his head, he imagined the struggle, saw his girls beaten and shot, felt each blow and bullet as if his own body were the target instead.

Klaus Baudelaire laying down his own body between the world and his sisters is really the only thing I care about:

And then her gaze fell to the marred canvas of his body.

I bet his back is a mess of burn marks ugh. Four weeks after Violet’s discharged from the hospital (practical Violet made sure to get the green light from the medical professionals) they finally have sex again, which is a relief—after the rape they were both hesitant to initiate sex because she thought she was damaged goods and he thought she wanted space? Silly kids. Oh and and here they are being mistaken by strangers for a pair of lovebirds:

One of the women sighed dreamily. "Did you ever see a more likely pair of turtledoves?" "Of course not," Mr. Poe sputtered, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. "The very idea!" And he excused himself hurriedly, to make some phone calls. "Don't be silly," said the other. "They're siblings. Haven't you heard? … They're the Baudelaire orphans." "Well, I daresay," the first one went on, "anyone would've taken them for sweethearts."

I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO

The Baudelaires finally, finally come into their fortune free and clear. They put on their parents’ wedding rings and move to Canada. A cat (!!!) leaves baby Beatrice II in a basket outside their front door, and that completes their family. Nobody deserves good things more than these kids, and this fic ends exactly where it ought, describing “a rural life of moral simplicity.”

I read this fic years ago and it was w i l d rereading it again, thanks for coming along for the ride. If anyone wants to scream/cry about this fic in particular, or Violet and Klaus in general, feel free to send me an ask or message me ANYTIME

[hillariat]

When I’m with you

Tags: Original work, Fluff, Romance, F/F, wlw, Comedy 

Word count: 3,066

Summary: She followed me to my doorstep, and we embraced in a hug that lasted way longer than it should. As she departed, bidding an I'll text you when I'm home -a mere formality in Singapore- I began to wonder.

Did she feel the same?

In which Rachel has feelings for her best friend Jiamin.

Author’s note: This is just something to take note of before reading if you aren’t familiar with Singapore. This story uses some Singlish, mostly in dialogue. Singlish is the colloquial variation of English in Singapore. It has its own unique grammatical structure and slang terms borrowed from multiple different Asian languages. Different people integrate Singlish into their speech to varying degrees. For Singlish terms, I’ve given in text translations in [ ]. 

Also I’ve cross-posted this on Royal Road under the same title and author name.

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The first time I felt it, I was at the park with her in the middle of the night. She kept nudging me to try the flying fox. I rebuked that it wasn’t my thing, that it wasn’t appropriate with the skirt I was wearing, that she wasn’t strong enough to push me all the way to the other end.

In essence, I was scared. Yeah, a 15-year-old was scared of a piece of playground equipment that little 5-year-olds rode on a daily basis. Jiamin mocked me in much the same way, as if my reaction were a teleprompt script of my thoughts. I relented and awkwardly attempted to sit on the damn thing. She saw me struggle and halted her sharp remarks, most likely to not dissuade me from my reluctant decision. Instead, she opted for a constipated face, struggling to contain her laughter.

With an effortful push from Ms constipatedface, I was sent gliding across the playground with the whirring noise of cables being my only company. It was....not as bad as I thought. The slight breeze that brushed against my face, the passing scenery of a peaceful night was relaxing, the - yeah I was lying to myself. This was fucking scary. My feet were suspended a meter off the ground, ripping any sense of control I had over this damned thing away from me. I was at the mercy of the imparted force of Jiamin's push and whatever resistance the ill maintained wires provided. Without my calculator and notebook, I had no clue when or where exactly I would stop and not knowing brought upon deep seated feelings of insecurity that I thought I had tucked away under piles of 100th percentiles in report cards.

Fortunately for me, the flying fox slowed down to a stop whilst I was buried in my thoughts. The wires sagged under my weight, leaving my feet within reach of the ground. Jiamin jogged to me with a gleeful expression painted on her features, clearly very entertained by my suffering. I on the other hand probably looked like I came out of the Vietnam war. She asks me how it was, and I groaned. Well, “weh” was more accurate, but I’d like to think it was a groan. She chuckled, her deep voice filling the otherwise empty park. It wasn’t any different from her previous chuckles, but my heart clearly felt otherwise.

It fluttered.

 I mulled over that feeling for several weeks. It wasn’t a foreign concept to me. I’ve heard friends talk about it at the canteen, heard hushed gossip amongst classmates during lessons and dramatized portrayals in media. But why now? Nothing has really changed between us; she hasn’t changed at all. So why now? 2 months ago, I would’ve said her laugh sounded like a dying pig but now I’m not so sure.

I took a glance at her, seated at a table diagonally to the right of me. To the undiscerning eye she was diligently taking notes in class, her face laser focused on what she was producing on paper. But I knew better. She was probably drawing bats and skeletons and anything else that could pass as a villainous henchman in a kid’s cartoon. She never cared much for math, or any other subject outside of recess. She once told me that she didn’t see the point of trying since she wasn’t planning to go anywhere after secondary school. When I pried further, she said “I’m damn stupid. Confirm cannot go anywhere”.

I think the only time I've ever seen her willingly try to study was in primary 5, a year before our Primary School Leaving Examinations. She suddenly became very interested in studying after I told her I wanted to go to Bukit Panjang Government High, a top public secondary school. Maybe she finally realized how important studying was. For that entire year she was buried in textbooks. I swore her head could've become a bookmark. When results came around, everyone thought it was a miracle, some divine intervention from god, that she did as well as she did. But I knew better. She was never one for prayers. We both entered Bukit Panjang Government High and Jiamin went back to slacker mode.

 She turned to me, sensing my stare. We made eye contact, chocolate brown meeting chocolate brown, - yes Chinese kids all look the same – but for some reason I was ensnared.

I felt my face flush red.

I want to die. Please take me now death.

Bewilderment was plastered on her face. A moment passes. Then, as though she was struck with a thunderbolt of genius, her expression turned to a knowing smirk. Death, anytime now please.

She stuck her tongue out at me like the child she is and I, obviously, returned the favor. Because what else do you do when someone flicks their tongue at you? Ok, no death for now.

We shared a quiet giggle before turning back to our work. Well, I tried to. My whole body was consumed by….nice feelings. Warmth that felt like a hug. Butterflies threatening to break from my ribcage. That sort of stuff. It was topped off with starry eyes and a dreamy smile that probably made me look crazy.

I was so glad I didn’t have a tablemate, else I’d be probed on my strange expression. I don’t think claiming that I was merely enjoying the lesson at hand would’ve been believable. If it was it would imply that I was going gooey eyed over first order derivatives. I know I’m a nerd but I have standards. It’s got to at least be partial derivatives in a matrix to get me flustered.

So uh yeah, “mulling” didn’t actually involve thinking about my feelings. More like awkwardly fumbling through the full spectrum of emotions. I should do something about it. Just as I was about to plunge into another train of thought, I received a text from none other than her.

Jiah Lian: Wanna go monti next week?

That’s weird. Monti was a candlelit atas* [Fancy & expensive] restaurant that sat on Marina bay, aka the kind that people bring their lovers to for a proposal and have anniversaries and junk.  I’d been wanting to eat there for months because apparently the pasta is to die for and they cook it tableside (I know, I have spoilt rich girl tastes) but I never really got around to it. I didn’t think it was her kind of thing. If I nagged her enough, she’d probably go with me, but show up in shorts and sandals and complain about spending $58 on pasta.

Trash bag: Sure, but don’t wear shorts

Jiah Lian: Wah, u wan see me naked alr? Pervert

Trash bag: Gross

Jiah Lian: ILY too :)

Trash bag: Wed?

Jiah Lian*: Caaaannnn

[*a pun on the Singlish word “ah lian” which means female gangster]

 Wow. Oh wow. Out of all the things I thought would happen today, seeing Jiamin in a dress was not one of them. To be frank I was expecting her to show up in either shorts or a shirt-pants combo. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleasantly surprised though. She was wearing a spaghetti strapped cocktail dress that hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her slim form. The dress slit went all the way up her smooth, never-ending legs, leaving just enough room for the imagination. It was bare back too. The dress probably showed a bit too much skin considering she came from a conservative household, but I’m not complaining.

In a manner that was so unlike the way she was dressed, Jiamin yelled “Rachel!” and hurriedly made her way across the train station to me. She was like a puppy bolting towards its owner when they came home. Adorable.

She circled me once over, eyeing up my outfit in enthusiasm. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she gave a smile that ended at the corner of her eyes.

"Wah you damn chio*"[Pretty] She said, gesturing to my dress. It was a simple, off shoulder, A-line affair.

I nudged her shoulder playfully with my fingers.

“You also”

In response, she gave a goofy, ear to ear grin, her normal go-to reaction to compliments. Though this time I could’ve sworn there was a tinge of red coloring her cheeks. Maybe it was a trick of the light.

We made our way to the restaurant, talking about anything and everything from some idiot in history class that declared that they didn’t need to know about Hitler because, and I quote; “all the Jews are dead” (I don’t know how he got into an elite school) to whether or not caviar and white chocolate would taste nice together. Our hands brushed together once.

“In theory it should work because, according to food science, they have similar flavor compounds, like trimethylamine which has a fishy odour. So they – “

“What the shit! Who the fuck thinks white chocolate tastes fishy?!”

“Science does!” I happily sang. “and it thinks white chocolate would be very good with caviar.”

She cringed.

“Eeeeee, fuck that’s damn gross.”

“Hmm I dunno, now I’m very tempted to try it. Maybe I’ll order caviar later.”

She grasped her chest in relief.

“Thank god, Monti don’t have caviar.”

I gave her the most innocent and earnest smile I could muster.

“Then next time, we’re going to a seafood place and I’m bringing white chocolate.”

She looked at me with absolute horror. “I don’t know you! Who is Rachel?!” She proceeded to wander off in faux abandonment. I on the other hand am cackling with laughter. I loved grossing her out with science.

Once I caught my breath I jogged after her.

 Our dinner was filled with idle chatter and a savored appreciation for the food. There was a moment where I thought she was going to place her hand over mine as she lightly grazed it, but in reality she was just trying to steal my phone. I would’ve thought that after the 10th time she’s failed that stunt, she’d know better. When the bill was settled, Jiamin of course complained about the exuberant price of pasta and my 'atas' tastes.

"I can treat you, y'know as 'compensation' for your company."

She snorted.

"You make me sound like a prostitute." We both chuckled. I continued.

"Legit though, I can treat you if you want."

She dismissed me with a wave.

"No need, hanging out with you is treat enough" She had a smirk and a...blush? Or was that the lighting? Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I've gone into cardiac arrest and I haven’t told my family that I wanted a secular funeral. God bless the dim lighting.

 On our way out, Jiamin's hand brushed against mine again.

Normally I wouldn’t think much of this, but the fact that it’s the 3rd time it happened today and on the same hands mind you,I was a bit perturbed. Jiamin was never shy about physical affection. In primary school she would constantly hold my hand, stating that it felt “nice” or something. I didn’t know why it’d be nice though; I was a sweaty kid; my palms were nasty. A couple months ago she tackle-hugged me because I helped salvage her “hopeless” physics project. In that same timeframe she pinched the crap out of my cheeks after we looked at my old childhood photos when we were at my grandparent’s place. That’s on top of her still holding my hand all the time. Then again recently there’s been a lot less physical affection. Maybe I pissed her off. Eh, she’ll talk about it when she’s good and ready. After all, she’s that kind of person. If you try to crack her open like an egg, she'll call you bitch and stop talking to you for 2 weeks. Trust me, I've tried.

Her hands brushed mine again, though this time she seemed more daring. Her index curled up around my pinky, as if testing the waters. I responded in kind, and she took that as a sign to be bolder. Her fingers cautiously crawled up further and soon our hands were intertwined. My stomach did something that the rest of me could not; a fucking backflip.

 I really didn’t want this night to end so soon and it seemed as though Jiamin thought the same. She suggested that we take a walk along the bay because ‘food coma’. I happily agreed and that’s how we wound up walking along the bay hand in hand.

Her gaze was drawn to the city skyline on the opposite side of the bay, just as mine was to her. Her deep brown eyes hidden among too long messy bangs, petite pink lips and razor-sharp jawline were all illuminated -no- highlighted by the moonlight. She really was something else. I could almost just-

"The view damn nice."

My head snapped to said view. Little boxes glowed with artificial hues of blues, greens, whites and yellows. They peppered the orderly array of skyscrapers, starkly contrasting the night sky. Each building was interwoven with one another, smaller ones disappeared in the shadow of larger ones and the ones that were front and center demanded attention like a whiny 5 year old. Some towered above others in a supposed race to be the tallest, but never in a disorderly fashion. Every tower had its own distinct curves, angles and edges. Shapes that would normally belong in a dull geometry paper were fused together into deceitfully simple artistic hybrids, giving each building its own sense of character. Yet they all managed to fit together nicely into a coordinated group of semi homogenized modernity.

Pristine, structured, and beautiful. Truly fitting for a metropolis.  

 "It’s weird how every tiny box that’s lit has a worker inside" Jiamin gestured to a well-lit office building. She turned to me.

"Do you think our lives are gonna be like that? Working until 8+ in a box then go home and sleep and then do it again?"

I shrugged.

"Maybe? That depends on the job type and-"

"Do you want that?"

My expression furrowed. I’m not really certain of my reply but let it slip anyways. Bad Rachel.

" I-I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far. I mean we're so young and all.”

She quirked her brows.

"Then why you study so hard?" Despite her choice of words, her tone holds no animosity, just genuine curiosity.

"Well, because I like it." Jiamin continued to look at me, expecting more. I took a deep breath and continued. "And also because it gives me security"

"Like it opens up more doors? "

"No. It gives me something..." My eyes searched the ground as though the right words would appear at my feet. I swallowed. "to be proud of"

Jiamin fell silent at that. Her eyebrows furrowed, whether in thought or in sympathy I don’t know, but I hope it wasn't the latter. I don’t need that.

She chewed on her lips, contemplating on whether or not she should say whatever it was that was on her mind. I had half the mind to ask but again, I knew better.

"Sometimes I fail things on purpose."

My jaw dropped.

"What? Why?"

She shrugged.

"People think I damn useless. Like cannot do this, cannot do that. -she brought up her fingers to count - I lazy, stupid, hopeless, cannot make it."

I frowned and knitted my brows, trying to stitch together what she was trying to say.

"So you want to spite them?"

She sighed.

"Maybe. At least I know I'm good at failing"

I fell into silence, letting that sentence stew in my thoughts for a moment. I knew what I wanted to convey but I didn’t know how to convey it right. Neither of us cared much for words of pity after all.

"You know, I heard the best way to say 'fuck you' to someone is to be happy."

"You think I not happy is it?" She growled.

I held my hands up defensively. "No no. That’s not what I’m saying. I'm trying to say that maybe you should consider what does make you happy."

Jiamin paused for a moment, lips pursed in thought. She turned away to look at the skyline again and that was the end of that conversation. There were more words to be said about this topic, but they weren't going to be said today. That's fine with me.

 The journey home was filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that I've always enjoyed with her. Though this time there was an added feeling of warmth and a silly soft smile plastered on my face. I never thought I'd like hand holding this much since primary school.

She followed me to my doorstep, and we embraced in a hug that lasted way longer than it should. As she departed, bidding an I'll text you when I'm home -a mere formality in Singapore- I began to wonder.

Did she feel the same?

 My answer came the next day, when I found a bouquet of flowers carefully tucked under my desk. Attached to it was a handwritten note with an anonymous sign off. I had only read half the note when I realized who my secret admirer was.

The messy scrawl was practically indecipherable to all but the best doctors, but I had seen it far too many times to not know what the squiggles conveyed. I sighed. I told her more than a dozen times that she should've done her handwriting homework, stating that unlike every other mundane piece of work she never did in primary school, this would come back to bite her. Only once had she listened.

It was apparent from the first line of the note. The ‘a’ in dear, in my name and scattered about in every other word that demanded the vowel stood out like a sore thumb. Unlike every other letter which was hideously malformed beyond recognition, the ‘a’s were written perfectly. From the not quite circular tri-pointed body to the tail flick at the end, the ‘a’ was a perfect imitation of the template we were forced to trace over as kids.

I pulled out my phone, shooting my not-so-secret admirer a text thanking her for the bouquet, watching in amusement as her face turned the same color as those flowers.

[beautiful-rebellious-sunflower]

Hi! So I'm trying to convince a friend who isn't really a fan of Abby that she's a precious cinnamon roll. What evidence/arguments/gentle nudging would help to show them the light? :)

You know what? I started writing out a whole long essay of feels about Abby Griffin and why I love her so much, but I realised anything like that was gonna be WAY too long! So here it is condensed into handy bullet pointed list form!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  DISCLAIMER

Someone not liking Abby as a character is fine! I don’t expect my fave to be everyone’s fave, and sometimes you get a character who just rubs you the wrong way and you might not even be able to explain why. But, since I was asked, these are some of the reasons *I* love Abby Griffin, and some responses to common criticisms of her (many of which I genuinely think are deeply unfair and based on ridiculously inaccurate interpretations of her character)

Onwards!

she’s a talented Doctor and Scientist

she designed the wristbands! the whole ‘sending the 100 to the ground’ thing was LITERALLY HER IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE THERE WOULD BE NO SHOW without Abby Griffin

“the most respected person in this camp" 

when Clarke destroys Mount Weather she immediately wants to use all that tech not for killing Grounders like Pike does, but for opening a hospital and healing Grounders and Sky people alike god whatever happened to THAT storyline btw??

saves Nyko’s life

saves Raven’s life

saves Lincoln’s life with an amazing smart, brave moment of sheer shocklashing badassery, and by doing so…

becomes the first person EVER to bring back a Reaper!!! Thus enabling Clarke to win an alliance with the Grounders and presumably becoming a legend with them because she LITERALLY BROUGHT A DUDE BACK FROM THE DEAD YO INDRA DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT

saves Finn’s life long-distance over the radio (look we all have our faults but Clarke, Raven and Octavia are equally to blame for this one so no foul to Abby)

saves Marcus’ life under the rubble of Tondc

saves Roan’s life when he’s shot

…literally are you getting my point half the people in the show would be dead if it it weren’t for her

keeps Ontari alive (and thus helps Clarke save the world) by CRACKING OPEN HER CHEST AND MANUALLY PUMPING HER HEART look even Murphy was impressed by that

she’s super badass and incredibly brave even without resorting to violence and killing like other characters

willing to go to jail and the airlock (!!!) multiple times to try and save the people due to die in the Culling

willing to fire herself at the Earth in an ancient rocket cobbled together by Raven just for the chance that she can prove the kids are alive

goes to meet Indra, a heavily armed enemy warrior leader, alone and unarmed, and doesn’t back down even with a knife held to her throat

climbs into the rubble of Tondc to save people even though she herself was safely out of it

saves Raven’s life (again!) by taking the chip when ALIE makes her cut her wrists

saves Jackson and Miller’s lives on Science Island by distracting a drone

she’s a devoted, loving and good mother (FUCK YOU I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL)

kind of a surrogate mom to Jackson who lost his mom at a young age

clearly wants to adopt both Raven and Murphy too

willing to move heaven and earth to find Clarke and protect her

stands up to Jaha to back Clarke in season two even as he tries to have her deposed and thrown into the stockade because…

“I have faith too. In my daughter.”

also in season two, defers to Clarke and gives up any chance of finding survivors from the other Ark stations to focus on rescuing the kids in Mount Weather

understands why Clarke left post-season two and even though it’s clearly hurting her she doesn’t try and drag her back before ‘she wants to be found’

look I don’t want to go too far on this because some of the time Abby DOES show poor judgement and go overboard in trying to protect Clarke?? I can’t deny that but honestly if the worst u can say about Abby Griffin is that she loves her daughter too much then you’re reaching pretty badly tbh, considering other characters have list of faults that literally include ‘torture’ and ‘genocide’

she’s a woman of extraordinary integrity and deeply held ethics, but also pragmatic and not stupid about it

“You don’t have to justify yourself.I broke the rules and I accept the consequences”

she ALWAYS does what she thinks is right…but she also NEVER shies away from the consequences

horrified by what Clarke does in letting Tondc be bombed…but keeps the secret anyway because she knows it’s necessary

deeply hurt by Clarke’s coup in S2 and shocked at the change in her daughter…but steps aside for her anyway to avoid more bloodshed from an actual fight

haunted and grief stricken by her beloved husband’s death…but was the one to turn him in, because she believed that risking the life of one person she loved couldn’t outweigh the risk of many more lives being lost by his actions

she’s the kindest, sweetest darling

befriends Raven, sees potential in her and treats her as an equal and an ally

besties with Purest Cinnamon Roll Jackson

sees the potential in John Murphy

respects and trusts Lincoln as an advisor when she’s Chancellor

constantly torn between worry and pride for her wayward daughter but would do anything to keep her safe 

forgives Marcus Kane for all the bullshit he put her through and ends up being his biggest supporter and ally and helping him to become a better man

constantly trying to heal everyone and save everyone even though she knows she can’t

constantly trying to find solutions that don’t involve violence and death

wracked with guilt for things she couldn’t have forseen and couldn’t change, worries that she isn’t a good person and doesn’t deserve to survive

led Arkadia in three months of real peace, turning a ramshackle camp into a growing, flourishing home even while dealing with her own personal grief over Clarke being missing

doesn’t get enough sleep

her smile is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds

Abby Griffin in conclusion

she’s incredibly smart

she’s extraordinarily courageous

she’s self-sacrificing

she’s kind and compassionate

she’s passionately driven and principled

she’s willing to get her own hands dirty

she takes care of everyone even though no-one ever takes care of her

she has to try and be a leader AND a doctor AND a mother all at once and even though it means she’s constantly overworked and has to make impossible choices, she willingly bears the burden of those responsibilities

BONUS ROUND UNDER THE CUT!!! Common reasons people give for disliking Abby, and my response to them! :D

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  DISCLAIMER THE SECOND

Again, this is all just my opinion, and I don’t want to start an argument with anyone who disagrees. The ask here was ‘what evidence/arguments would I use’ so I thought a useful thing would be to lay out why the common arguments of those who don’t like Abby as a character do not sway me personally. My intention is to counter these criticisms with my own thoughts on the subject, not invalidate them.

Onwards!

**

“She’s an overbearing mother who doesn’t believe in Clarke’s leadership and competency even though it’s been proven again and again. She constantly tries to protect her when Clarke can clearly take care of herself and is trying to Get Shit Done without her mom’s interference.”

This is probably the most common one, and honestly I’m afraid I’m gonna have to repeat myself from my point above - if the worst thing you can say about Abby Griffin is that she loves her daughter too much…assuming that most people who make this argument love Clarke too, it seems like a bizarre reason to dislike Abby?

It also strikes me as oddly lacking in context. Overbearing parents can suck, sure, but…Abby Griffin isn’t getting mad about her daughter staying out late partying with friends or getting poor exam results. Abby Griffin is a mother desperately trying to prevent her only child from being brutally killed, or turning into a cold, ruthless killing machine herself, or else just ending up so broken and emotionally scarred that she loses her forever in another way.

These are not unreasonable concerns. These are things that happen to characters on this show!

Abby doesn’t want to lose her daughter. She doesn’t want her daughter to be hurt. She doesn’t want her daughter to have to make the terrible choices and unbearable sacrifices that a leader in Clarke’s position is so often called upon to do. And you know what? In her position I wouldn’t want that for MY daughter either! Is Abby selfish to want to spare her daughter these burdens? Maybe. Is she naive to think she can continue to protect Clarke under these circumstances? Almost certainly. But I can’t find it in my heart to blame her for trying.

Another thing I would really like to point out here that I think is often shamefully overlooked is that this is a flaw of Abby’s that improves with time. Yes, Abby does often question Clarke’s authority in season two and she is stubborn and open in her dismay at the change in her daughter that the Ground has wrought. But as time goes by Abby consistently backs Clarke and defers to her time and time again - standing up for her against Jaha, prioritizing her friends in Mount Weather above finding other Ark survivors, keeping the secret of the Tondc bombing…by the time season two ends Abby has come to terms with the person Clarke has become, and throughout season three and four she is nothing but a supportive and staunch ally to Clarke’s plans.

When they disagree on something Abby will always speak her mind, and when Clarke is in danger Abby will always try to protect her…just as any mother would, and as any of Clarke’s friends would. But if there’s one thing Abby Griffin has, it’s unwavering love and faith in her daughter. Clarke is clearly the person Abby cares most for in the world, and their relationship is one of the most important in the show - whether they’re at odds or working together, that relationship always makes both Clarke and Abby more interesting and more sympathetic to me. It feels like a genuine shame to me that some people find it a cause for resentment towards either of these characters instead.

**

“She’s reckless and doesn’t think through the consequences of her actions. She gave Finn a gun and he slaughtered a Grounder village! She smashed that machine in season four just to save Clarke when the entire human race was at stake!”

Actually I somewhat agree with this one! One of Abby’s faults throughout the show is that she often acts impulsively and makes unilateral decisions to do what she believes is right. Sometimes she turns out to be right…sometimes not. Either way this is something that makes me like Abby more as a character - she’s fallible and human! She makes mistakes! She’s so single minded about protecting her daughter that it can blind her to other concerns!

It makes her a much more interesting character, in my opinion, than an Abby Griffin who is unequivocally Right All The Time. As something of a moral compass for the show, it would be very easy for her to be boring, and having that stubborn, reckless streak makes her far more fun to watch. Give me morphine-stealing, black-market-dealing, do-whatever-it-takes-and-lie-through-your-teeth-to-get-what-you-want Slytherin Abby Griffin any day!

Because…at the end of the day, everything Abby does, good and bad, is done out of love for her daughter, and responsibility to her people. She’s not always right, but she is always - to paraphrase Jake Griffin - ‘doing the best she can.’ And I can’t help but love her for that, and root for her to succeed.

**

“She slapped Raven that one time.”

Yeah, that was a dick move. What, you expected something different? Just because I love Abby doesn’t mean I have to blindly agree with everything she does! As it happens, I share the opinion of a lot of people who think the writing for the show was at fault in this instance - I don’t think that slap was AT ALL in character for Abby to do, but that’s a discussion for another time. Assuming it IS taken as canon…yeah it was a total dick move. I hope (and genuinely believe) that Abby apologised to Raven afterwards. 

But again, I can’t help but think…if the worst charge you can level against Abby Griffin is ‘she slapped someone who didn’t deserve it one time’ then in the context of THIS show that speaks pretty well of Abby, to be honest. Of course it’s absurd to argue that any bad thing Abby does is just fine because other people have done worse things but…just…it’s not unreasonable to get a little perspective here, maybe? This one instance of Abby doing something admittedly unpleasant and unjustified to Raven in a moment of stress is nowhere near enough to cancel out the genuine and loving friendship the two share for the rest of the show, and seems like a pretty thin reason to Hate Abby Forever, especially considering all the awful things literally every other character in the show has done at one point or another except for my precious son Jackson

So although I agree in principle, a lot of the time when people trot out this particular argument it feels a lot to me like playing on everyone’s love of Raven to try and get them to hate Abby…which leaves a nasty ‘pitting women against each other’ taste in my mouth, to be honest.

So yeah, I don’t like this scene. I don’t like what Abby does in this scene. I won’t make apologies for her behavior here. But what I like least of all is anyone who tries to use this scene as some kind of unforgivable indictment of Abby’s character, when it is quite clearly exceptional and uncharacteristic behavior for her; something never seen before or since.

It was a dick move though.

**

“She killed her husband!”

*sighhhhhh*

I don’t hear this one a lot these days, but I really don’t know why it ever comes up at all as a reason to hate Abby? I mean, I can’t believe I have to spell this out for people because it is all explicitly laid out for you on screen in the show, but here in handy list form:

Abby clearly and demonstrably loved Jake Griffin, was terrified that he might be killed for exposing secret information and begged him not to do it

when he refused to back down, Abby confided in Jaha about his plans, because she genuinely believed that Jake was going to doom everyone on the Ark by going public, including Clarke

Abby and Jake were both personal friends with Jaha, and Abby believed that he would not execute Jake - a reasonable thing to think, as Jake had not yet committed a crime and Jaha HAD the power of pardon and was more than willing to use it on Abby when she later broke the law to save HIS life (hey fuck you Thelonius by the way)

when this did not happen and Jake was executed anyway, Abby was clearly and demonstrably horrified and grief stricken

even though Jake Griffin’s death was neither her intention nor her fault, she still obviously bears terrible guilt for her role in it and will have to live with the pain of losing the man she loved every day for the rest of her life

…seriously, this is all there on screen. Why some people persist in portraying Abby as some kind of cackling murderess who happily shoved her husband out of an airlock is beyond me. She trusted the wrong person and made a terrible mistake; an attempt to save lives that ended up losing the life of someone she loved deeply. It was a tragedy for everyone involved, born of the choices made by several different people all acting out of the best of intentions. Abby never came across as anything but deeply sympathetic to me when I watched this storyline play out on screen, and I’m just baffled that anyone feels otherwise? What show were you watching?

“She’s old and boring.”

Hey: fuck you!

Ok so not a lot of people straight up come out and say this, but a lot of the hate towards Abby Griffin really does seem to be because she has the audacity to be a woman over forty on TV. If you hate Abby because she displays characteristics or acts in a way that you would be swooning over if given to a sexy young man in his 20s, then the problem is a whole lot of socially ingrained ageism and misogyny, and there’s not a lot I can do to persuade people out of that.

~**~IN CONCLUSION~**~

A lot of people have different reasons for not liking Abby Griffin as a character, just as is the case for any character in any work of fiction. Some of them I can understand, even if I don’t personally agree with them. Some of them I think are both unfair and unreasonable. However, at the end of the day, all I can do is try and explain my own reasons for Abby being my favourite character, which I have done at…uh…some length. WOOPS.

I love Abby.  I think she’s an interesting character,a  sympathetic character, a vibrant and complicated and vital character. She’s someone I look up to, the kind of person I would like to be. And it bums me out to think that there are fans who just don’t like her, or simply don’t care about her, and that I will probably never be able to change their minds on that.

But there are plenty of people who feel the same way I do too. So Anon, if you are still reading this - and frankly I wouldn’t blame you if you had given up some time ago - my advice for you is this:

Agree to disagree. Talk to your friend about characters you both love in the show. Ask them to keep an open mind about Abby, and try to find out why they just haven’t warmed to her in the way you presumably have. And if you ever want to flail over our smol cinnamon roll science babe queen…there are plenty of us ready and waiting to join you :)

[jackthebard]

Ultimate Driver

(Art by @splickedylit)

Name: Fujiyama Yu

Age: 21

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 162

Blood Type: 0+

Hair: Blue (no, you shit, it’s not natural)

Eyes: Violet (yes, you fuck, they are natural)

Likes: Fast cars, thrumming engines, and really attractive people

Dislikes: People asking if certain aspects of her are natural or not

Before Tragedy: After showing an aptitude behind the wheel during her first visit to a go-kart track, Fujiyama Yu quickly proved that she couldn’t keep away from the smell of gasoline, nitrous, and burning rubber. It wasn’t long after (at the age of ten) that she stole her first car, and proceeded to lead at least fifteen Tokyo police cars on a mad chase through the streets, as well as through a subway and a shopping mall. Her skill behind the wheel quickly attracted the attention of the Kuzuryu clan. It wasn’t long after she served her juvie sentence that the Kuzuryu family took particular interest in her, and recruited her as a transporter. By the time she was fourteen, she had managed to evade not only the Tokyo police on multiple occasions, but also Interpol in a number of chases.

During Tragedy: When the Kuzuryu family succumbed to the will of the young heir Fuyuhiko and his support of the Despair Sisters, she was a little suspicious. It was when she found out that she was transporting a cargo of live women and children to be executed at the hands of Despair’s lackeys that she realized that she needed to sever ties. She released her “cargo” in a remote location, and still completed her delivery. Instead of a truckload of people, however, the Despair minions serving the Kuzuryu family found only a bloody envelope with the severed tip of her pinky inside. Yu Fujiyama’s parting gift to the Kuzuryu family was not the finger, however, but rather the salute she gave the soldiers. In keeping with Yakuza tradition, she had removed the joint as penance for disgracing her family. It wasn’t long afterwards that she started devoting her skills to the Future Foundation, saving lives rather than delivering them to be taken. After Tragedy: Bold in statements and brash in attitude, Yu isn’t afraid to swear or resort to more vulgar language. Despite this, she is willing to get close with her fellow classmates, on account of their willingness to work against the Despairs. Once she settled into Hope’s Peak academy, she was more than willing to enjoy what youth she had left and further develop her skills that had already been honed on the battlefield.

Notable Features: In addition to her unorthodox hair and eye colors, as well as her tremendous height for a woman, many people comment on her commendable… assets. People that do often wind up with at least a bloody nose or a bruised jaw. Furthermore, she has traditional yakuza tattoos running up and down both arms, yet she usually keeps these covered with a form-fitting tracksuit.

 Interview 79.02 – Open

Interviewer: Yamada Jiro, Psy.D

Subject: Fujiyama Yu – “The Ultimate Driver”

Interview Date: May 4th, 8 AT (after tragedy)

 Observation

 [The subject is female, tall and buxom, yet she carries herself with a sense of aggression rarely seen from women in Japan. For this interview, she has worn a short-sleeved black t-shirt to show off the tattoos running up and down her arms. Her left arm is a mural of a traditionally-styled dragon entwining her arm against a mountain landscape. The head is not visible, disappearing up under the sleeve of her shirt. Her right arm is adorned the archer spirit Susanoo, firing arrows into the sea. She lands in the seat with a resonant “thwump”, her legs spread and her head leaning against her fist, propped up by her elbow on the arm of the chair.]

 Discussion

 Interviwer: Please speak your name and age for the record.

 Yu: Fujiyama Yu. 21.

 Interviewer: Thank you for coming in today. You were being scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy before the event known as “The Tragedy” occurred. Do you know why?

 Yu: Because I’m fuckin’ good behind the wheel is why.

 Interviewer: Can you please expand on that?

 Yu: [She leans forward, gritting her teeth as if there was supposed to be a toothpick between them] You scouted me, now you’re askin’ me questions eight years after the fact. Un-fuckin’-believable.

 Interviewer: I would care to remind you that you have already been accepted to Hope’s Peak. This interview is just a formality.

 Yu: Yeah? Well, I ain’t never been much for formality. You want me to tell you why I’m good behind the wheel? Here’s why. [She starts counting off on her fingers] I managed to talk my way out of countless traffic checkpoints. I’ve evaded Tokyo PD a total of 27 times, Interpol a total of 8, and I only have one mark on my goddamn criminal record from the time I took a joyride at ten. So, if I do say so myself, I’m really fuckin’ good at what I do.

 Interviewer: So you just willingly admit to committing a number a total of 35 counts of “evasion of police action”?

 Yu: It’s not like you can prove it. I could just be talkin’ out my ass for all you know.

 Interviewer: You know we wouldn’t be talking to you if you weren’t.

 Yu: [She pauses visibly, then leans forward, her elbows on her knees, her fingers laced together. She presses her index fingers together and points at the interviewer] So what is this for.

 Interviewer: Strictly protocol, I assure you. The contents of this video will never be made public, nor private for that matter. It’s something for the executives of the Future Foundation alone, and that is simply to assure them that they have made a good decision with regards to accepting you as a student.

 Yu: I’ll hold you to that.

 Interviewer: I beg your pardon?

 Yu: If I find myself in trouble for any of the contents of the video that’s bein’ recorded right now, I’ll find you myself.

 Interviewer: Is that a threat, Ms. Fujiyama?

 Yu: It’s a promise.

 Interviewer: Duly noted. At the very least, I can admire your conviction.

 Yu: You think these tattoos are for show?

 Interviewer: Actually, I would like to talk about those. Those are very traditional designs, associated with the Yakuza, are they not?

 Yu: Since you assured me that this video was strictly confidential? Yeah. They’re Yakuza tattoos. The Kuzuryu clan picked me up when I was twelve.

 Interviewer: I wasn’t aware they started so young.

 Yu: You bet your ass they did! Shit, the more loyal enforcers they have, the better.  [She leans back and barks out a laugh, reaching into a pocket. She withdraws a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it in her mouth. She lights it before she asks the question] Mind if I smoke?

 Interviewer: [Slides the ashtray across the table] whatever makes you comfortable, Ms. Fujiyama.

 Yu: Fuck me, cut it out with the Mr/Ms stuff! Just call me Yu. Please. It’s a lot less weird. Makes me feel fuckin’ old if you do that.

 Interviewer: Very well, Yu. Do you have any idea why the Kuzuryu clan sought you out?

 Yu: Aside from leading the Tokyo PD on a 3-hour chase through rush hour streets, followed by approximately seventeen police cars, three helicopters, and probably a tank at some point? All at the age of ten? Christ, man! Are you seriously this dense?

Interviewer: I’m asking you these questions for clarification. Why did you leave the Kuzuryu clan?

 Yu: They got icky during the Tragedy.

 Interviewer: Care to expand on that?

 Yu: [She rests her forehead on her hands, her blue hair splaying about around her fingers. It almost looks like she’s praying. It’s a while before she speaks] I used to run normal shit for the clan. Hidden compartments full of drugs, guns, what have you. Always masked by the usual cargo just in case I got pulled over. Nine times out of ten, it would be meat, to confuse the dogs. But after the Tragedy… the boss started having me run some really weird shit.

 Interviewer: Weird how?

 Yu: Video equipment. Baking goods. Household chemicals and medicine. Stuff that wasn’t dangerous back then, but dangerous now. Anything could be dangerous when the Tragedy was going on. What with guys like Hanamura Teruteru and Koizumi Mahiru running around.

 Interviewer: What did they have you running when you left?

 Yu: Children. Their mothers, too.

 Interviewer: Why was that the last straw?

 Yu: I’d gotten a pretty fuckin’ good picture of how the clan was working now. Kidnap families, probably those of suspected Future Foundation. Kill them on camera. They always iced the kids first. Made their mothers watch. Anyway, I found out I was hauling folks instead of gear, then let them out halfway to the drop-off point.

 Interviewer: And then?

 Yu: I went to the drop-off point.

 Interviewer: That was tantamount to suicide. Why did you go, even if you didn’t have cargo for them.

 Yu: You’re making two mistakes there. The obvious one is that if I didn’t show up, they’d start lookin’ for the “cargo” along the planned route. Second, you’re assuming that the truck was empty.

 Interviewer: Care to explain?

 Yu: [She holds up her right hand. The first joint of her pinky is missing, severed at the knuckle.] I gave them my letter of resignation.

 Interviewer: I don’t quite follow. What’s the significance of giving them your finger?

 Yu: If a Yakuza betrays their clan in some way or another, and if it’s a minor transgression, they’re given a chance to atone. The price for atonement is a finger. Tradition says that someone should give up their pinky, and so I did.

 Interviewer: I see. It wasn’t long after that that you started working for the Future Foundation, correct?

 Yu: Yup. That’s it. Managed to move some damn good people and gear during that time. And I felt good about it too.

 Interviewer: Well. That answers all my questions for the time being. Thank you

 Yu: Much obliged.

 Interviewer: So, I’d like to welcome you to Hope’s Peak Academy. Classes start late in August.

 Yu: Seriously? [Despite her gruff demeanor, her face lights up at the notion]

 Interviewer: Seriously. See you then.

 Yu: Thank you! Thank you so much! [She gets up and leaves briskly, though cameras can see her thrusting her fists up into the air in a victorious stance when she believes that she’s out of sight.]

[mynewfangledlife]

Nobody cares, but it passes time I don't want to have, so here goes..

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

- The best.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

- My best friend.

03: Do you regret anything?

- Lots of things.

04: Are you insecure?

- You would be too, if you were me.

05: What is your relationship status?

- It's complicated? Seeing someone but not labeled.

06: How do you want to die?

- Something fast. Maybe an aneurysm?

07: What did you last eat?

- A veggie wrap.

08: Played any sports?

- Played baseball for a spell.

09: Do you bite your nails?

- I bite the skin around my nails.

10: When was your last physical fight?

- Uh, last time I punched someone back was like, junior high... Lol

11: Do you like someone?

- I do.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

- I do this regularly.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

- Yes, I do.

14: Do you miss someone?

- Too many someone's to list.

15: Have any pets?

- A doggo.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

- Like a bag of absolute shit.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

- Yep. Not my proudest moment.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

- I don't like big ones, but I'm okay with like, house spiders I suppose.

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

- Yeah, Probably.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

- Snogged.. haha.. the parking lot at work lol

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

- well, the weekend is over, but I worked and then spent some time with my favorite boy.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

- I want like 5.. or maybe just 3.. not sure.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

I have 7 piercings, but only 4 in.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

- Biology and History were always my best grades.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

- I miss who I thought they were.

26: What are you craving right now?

- Sleep.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

- I'm sure I probably have, yes.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

- I have. Multiple times.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

- Tears of frustration had been shed on both sides of the fence. But other than that, no, not that I'm aware of.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

- The fact that I can't stop crying, it's making my nose run, it's unfortunate.

31: Does somebody love you?

- Yes, somebody does.

32: What is your favourite color?

- Blue.

33: Do you have trust issues?

- I absolutely do.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

- I died, happens a lot when I dream.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

- The girl I'm seeing.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

- Sometimes, yes.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

- Forgive.

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

- Quite the opposite actually.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

- I don't know, Something like 13 maybe?

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

- Yep, may 24 streaking as a senior... I was wild back then lol

51: Favourite food?

- I really like cereal.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

- I do, although sometimes I need to remind myself of that.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

- I haven't been to bed.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

- No, it's not.

55: Are you mean?

- I'm sure some people might think so.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

- In my whole life, 3.

57: Do you believe in true love?

- Yes, I do.

58: Favourite weather?

- Fall, crisp cool air, no snow, just crunchy leaves in a slight breeze. That's my favorite kind of day.

59: Do you like the snow?

- I think fucking not.

60: Do you wanna get married?

- Sure, but that involves someone wanting to willingly spend the rest of their lives with me so... Lol

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

- I'm not a fan of baby, but babe is okay.

62: What makes you happy?

- Brandon Farris, he is my happy.

63: Would you change your name?

- If I transition, yes.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

- No, she makes it very easy to want to kiss her.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

- Probably cry a little.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

- Yes.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

- I honestly don't know, that's pretty sad lol

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

- My best friend.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

- Yes.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

- A thousand deaths over, yes.

[wordstrings]

Dean’s Secret

written and submitted by @fluttersnfun (words: 3,100)

Edit: Now with Part 2!

On the surface, Dean Winchester looked and acted like the person that people expected when they saw him; tough as nails, not overly emotional, and certainly not into anything that wasn’t masculine. But scratch off the surface, and there was a lot more to Dean than at first glance. He enjoyed Vonnegut, understood mechanical engineering like nobody’s business, and he cared about his brother Sam, and boyfriend Castiel.

Dean also had hidden proclivities for certain kinks. Certain guy-on-guy videos he had watched over the years, anime tenticle girls, and lastly, the one he would be the most reluctant to ever share with anyone, let alone a partner, tickling.

Dean couldn’t explain why he liked tickling the way he did, he just did. Anytime he came across a tickling scene on tv, or saw it in real life, he became very uncomfortable, overly aware of his movements and reactions and would try to get away from that area as soon as possible. The only exception to that was his brother Sam. Tickling Sam growing up had never bothered him (it was his brother come on, the tall ass punk needed to be taken down or cheered up a bit every now and then).

For years, Dean was careful to hide this part of himself. This wasn’t always easy, he himself was exceedingly ticklish, even with the multiple layers he wore. He was the perfect target for revenge by Sam, and for playful behavior with the girl or guy he had decided to shack up with for the night. Both of these situations he could handle; with Sam he would protest and claim to hate it (though he was in truth enjoying it), escaping as quickly as possible, with lovers he would find other ways of distracting their attention.

There were times where he couldn’t ignore his liking of tickling, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. So he found ways of coping. For the times when he could guarantee that he had privacy, he would pull out the feathers that he kept in a bag tucked at the very bottom of his duffle, take off his shoes and shirts, close his eyes, and brush one of the feathers over his feet, under his arms, across his stomach, and other ticklish spots. Dean was surprisingly feather sensitive, and by closing his eyes, he could pretend that it was someone else using the feather to tickle him. For years this was how he handled his liking of being tickled, in complete secrecy.

These moments had expanded and changed some over the years. Not long after the boys had discovered the bunker, Dean had found a couple of metronomes and discovered that by tying feathers to each one, and then tying up his feet, he could more realistically pretend that someone was tickling him in a teasing, methodical, unwavering pattern.

More often than not, that person that Dean fantasized about was Cas. Ever since meeting and becoming friends with the angel, Dean had wondered what it would be like to be tickled by Cas, using his hands, angel mojo, or even his wings. These fantasies had only increased since Dean and Cas had become a couple. He would fantasize about Cas holding him down with his hands or with his angel mojo, tickling him with fingers and feathers, teasing him in that gravely voice, and Dean would be utterly gone, blushing and giggling as fantasy Cas indulged him in this secret enjoyment.

Dean had even found some of Cas’ feathers over the years, and had been using them as his tickle tools of choice for his private moments. Angel feathers, as it turned out, tickled a LOT more than regular feathers. Which was both good and bad for Dean, good because he could just use one or two of Cas’ feathers to make himself helpless with giggles, and bad because he found he had to gag himself to ensure he didn’t make a lot of noise.

One day, when Sam was off on a hunt with Eileen (those two were adorable together, even Dean would admit that), Dean realized he would have the bunker all to himself, with no fear of interruptions for several days.

He got everything set up, two metronomes, with a feather tied at different points on each metronome. He tied both feet to the foot of his bed so they couldn’t move away, using smaller ties on his toes so they would be spread out. He set one so that the feather would brush the soles of his feet, and the second one so the feather would brush his toes. He set the metronomes going, and was immediately glad he had waited until Sam was gone because there was no way he could have contained his laughter. The feathers were hitting so many of the right spots on each foot, going at a slightly differing pace so as to drive Dean mad with the different sensations. Even though only his feet and toes were tied up, he felt so vulnerable and exposed that he hugged his torso as he let loose gales of laughter.

The fantasy Dean had cooked up involved Cas tying Dean to the bed and tickling him with his feathers as Dean squirmed and writhed away, laughing helplessly as he was forced to realize not only how helpless he was, but how much he liked being helpless, and how much he liked being tickled, as Cas slowly took him apart. Feathers brushing his feet, Dean threw back his head, crying out in the midst of his laughter, “Cas please!” Begging for what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but begging none the less to fantasy Cas as he tickled away Dean’s resistance.

“Dean?”

Wait. Where had that come from? That almost sounded like…

“Dean, what is going on here?” “Why are you tied up?” “What are these devices?”

Dean opened his eyes. Cas, the real Cas, was standing at the foot of his bed, looking at him with questioning curiosity and slight concern.

Oh shit.

Dean sat up quickly, knocking over the small table the metronomes were set upon at the foot of his bed, and began trying to untie himself.

His mind raced, how long had Cas been there? Had he seen everything? Dean struggled getting the ties undone around his ankles and toes.

“Cas! What are you doing here!?”

Cas looked at Dean with further confusion.

“I came here when I heard you calling me. Your tone of voice was…most peculiar.” Cas said this as he stepped forward to examine the way Dean’s feet were tied.

“Why did are your feet tied up like this?” Did you do this yourself?”

Dean was so red it felt like a sunburn on his whole body. He gave up trying to untie his feet, and just covered them with the blanket on his bed. He tried to give some bullshit answer to the situation, but he couldn’t form the words.

Cas bent down and picked up one of the discarded metronomes to examine it.

“Why are feathers tied to these metronomes?” Cas asked. He brushed a couple of fingers along the feather itself, and looked up at Dean.

“These are my feathers.”

Dean could only nod as he covered his face with both hands. He gave up trying to make up a story. Now he was just afraid. Afraid that Cas would see him as a freak, would be insulted that he had used his feathers, and would not only end their new relationship, but also their friendship. Dean mentally cursed himself, he had gone a ruined the best thing that had happened to him in years.

Dean heard Cas set the metronome down, walk over, and felt the bed dip as Cas sat on the side of the bed. Then he felt Cas peel away his hands from his face. Dean looked away from Cas, shame flowing through his whole body.

“Dean, look at me.”

Dean still kept his head turned away, eyes closed, he didn’t want to see the look of disgust that would be on Cas’ face.

“Dean, please?”

Even in his utter shame, he couldn’t deny Cas when he asked with that voice. Dean slowly turned to face Cas, opening his eyes as he did. What he saw surprised him.

Cas was looking at Dean with concern and confusion, not judgement or anger.

“Dean, I don’t know what was happening here, but I can tell you are clearly in some distress. Please, can you tell me what is going on here? If you are truly uncomfortable with talking about it, I’ll understand. But I hope you’ll choose to share whatever this is with me. I won’t judge you or leave you, if that is what you’re afraid of.”

Cas was giving Dean an out. Dean desparately wanted to take it, but the look on Cas’ face had him considering the other option, telling Cas the truth.

After a few moments of silence, Dean took a deep breath.

“I tied myself to the bed.”

Cas nodded his understanding. “Ok.”

Dean shook his head. Even though Cas clearly wanted to know more, he wasn’t pushing Dean to give him answers. Dean didn’t deserve his boyfriend.

“I tied my feet up, and set up the metronomes.”

Cas looked at Dean, “Why were there feathers tied to the moving parts of the metronomes?” They appeared to be brushing your feet.”

Dean nodded, “That was on purpose. I set them up like that so that the feathers would…” Dean turned even redder as he tried to get the words out. He looked at Cas.

“You know how humans have physical sensitivities?”

Cas nodded. Dean continued.

“Well, one of those sensitivites involved using a light touch, and the sensation that touch causes creates a reaction, squirming, laughter, that sort of thing.”

Cas looked at Dean. “Dean, I understand what tickling is” Dean blushed at the mention of the word, Cas went on, “What I don’t understand is why you were subjecting yourself to that sensation. I was under the impression that you deeply disliked being tickled.”

Dean was squirming a little now, but he had opened this door, he’d best walk through it now.

“That’s only partly true. I dislike….being t-tickled by people I’m not famiar or comfortable with, and I dislike it when I’m in public.”

Cas looked at Dean with a mixture of understanding and confusion (don’t ask me how that’s possible, its a thing that Cas’ face can do).

“I understand that Dean. But I still don’t understand why you were willingly subjecting yourself to something you find unplesant?”

Dean looked away from Cas, “Because I don’t find it unplesant. I…I like it.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Cas gently used his hand to turn Dean’s face towards him.

“You like being tickled Dean?” Cas asked in a gentle voice.

Dean nodded, looking at Cas in the eye.

“Why do you like being tickled Dean?”

It wasn’t an accusatory question, rather, it was a sincere question, asked out of a desire to understand.

Dean swallowed.

“I like how it feels, the rush it causes under my skin. How its such a light touch and yet it effects me so much. Its like a release of physical sensations and emotional feelings, all of them positive. I…like how it makes me feel helpless and comforted at the same time. I like how its a way that I can be vulnerable with people I feel close to without having to talk or do anything, its just there.”

Cas looked at Dean with warmth and kindness.

“I think I understand Dean. You like both the closeness that tickling allows you to have with certain people, and the sensation itself, hence the devices you engineered” Cas said this as he gestured to where the metronomes lay motionless.

Dean nodded.

Cas looked at Dean, “May I ask you another question?”

Dean nodded again.

“Have you shared this fact, that you like being tickled, with anyone before?”

Dean shook his head, “No. The only person who knew about it was my mom, but that was when I was little and less selfconscious about it. I didn’t have to say I liked it, I could just lay across her lap or provoke her in sone other way, and she would tickle me.”

Dean smiled at the memory. “It was great, being understood like that without being judged or embarassed.”

Cas nodded, “And you haven’t shared that you like beig tickled with anyone since then?”

Dean shook his head, “Its not something I should like, its weak and childish-”

Cas stopped Dean from saying more, “No Dean, its not weak or childish. Tickling is meant to be a bonding experience, where the participants can feel what you described before. They can feel safe within vulnerability because of the trust that is established between themselves and the person or people tickling them.”

Dean looked down, or rather he tried to, Cas’ hand kept him securly faced towards the angel.

“Dean, there is nothing wrong with enjoying tickling, do you hear me?”

Dean looked at Cas, seeing nothing but sincere caring in his expression. Dean nodded in the affirmative.

Cas smiled gently at Dean. “Thank you for sharing this with me Dean. How shall I use this knowledge of you?”

This question caught Dean off guard, “How do you mean?”

“Should I use my judgement and observations of you regarding when it would be appropriate to tickle you, or would you prefer me to wait until you’ve asked me to tickle you?”

Dean felt it should be impossible for someone to blush as much as he had in the past several minutes. “Ummm…the first option. I don’t think I’ll be able to ask.”

Cas cocked his head in that adorable way. “And why is that Dean? Is it because you have difficulty saying the word “tickle”?”

Dean could tell that Cas wasn’t teasing Dean with the question, but it still caused him to squirm and a grin to start forming on his face.

Cas watched Dean’s reaction to his question, a smile of his own starting to take shape. “Do you like being teased as well Dean?”

Ok, now Cas was teasing Dean, and he couldn’t help his grin or squirming motions now, even if he wanted to.

Cas chuckled lightly seeing Dean’s reactions. “I’ll take that as a “yes”.”

Cas sat up and walked over to the foot of the bed. He lifted the blanket from Dean’s tied feet.

“I must say Dean, this is quite an impressive set up you have here. Would you be opposed to replicating this, with the change of my taking the place of the metronomes?”

Dean shook his head, “I um, I would like that, yeah.”

Cas smiled at Dean. “Good, I would like that as well. Now shall I assist in untying your feet?”

Dean looked at Cas with some confusion, “You mean you don’t…. I mean…I thought you were suggesting…”

Cas looked at Dean, then slowly smiled, “You thought my question was also a proposition for now?”

Cas looked down at Dean’s feet and toes, all trussed up and stretched out, and gently stroked a single finger up Dean’s left foot.

Dean’s whole body jerked, and though Dean had covered his mouth with a hand, he hadn’t covered it up in time to keep the giggle from slipping out.

Cas looked up at Dean, a playful expression on his face. “Now Dean, I would like to hear and see all of your reactions as I tickle you. Do you think you can keep yourself from hiding your reactions, or do I need to take measures to ensure that you can’t hide from me?”

Dean instictively covered up his face, he wanted Cas to take those measures, but he wasn’t sure he could say it out loud.

Dean looked up when he heard Cas walking back over to where his upper body was laying. Dean noticed that there was something in Cas’ hands.

“It appears that you require some assistance in allowing your reactions to unfold. Would it be ok if I tied your hands to your sides?”

Dean looked down at what Cas was holding, it was the excess rope left over from tying his feel up. Dean was about to say yes when a thought occured to him that made him blush and squirm.

Cas noticed this reaction, “Is there something you’d like to say Dean?”

Dean looked up at Cas shyly. “Um, do you think maybe…you could tie my hands up above my head to the headboard?”

Cas looked at Dean, “That would leave you quite vulnerable Dean. Not only would you not be able to hide your reactions, you wouldn’t be able to defend any of your ticklish spots. Is that what you want?

Dean nodded.

Cas cocked his head as he looked at Dean, “I need a verbal response from you Dean.”

Dean blushed, “Yes I want you to tickle me all over.”

Cas looked at Dean with raised eyebrows, but didn’t really appear surprised. “You volunteered more information than I think you initially intended. But since that is what you want, I will do what you requested Dean, but first”

Cas reached down to grasp the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, and pulled it up over Dean’s head. Dean lifted his arms, allowing the shirt to be pulled off of him more easily.

“Lets remove all barriers to allow you to fully experience how I’m going to tickle you Dean.”

Cas grabbed Dean’s wrists one at a time, tying them to the opposite ends of the headboard. When he was done, Dean was positioned in a Y shape. Cas reached down and gently manuvered Dean’s sweatpants so that his hips were completely exposed.

Dean looked up at Cas with surprise, “How did-”

Cas looked at Dean, “How did I know about your hips being ticklish? Dean, I rebuilt your body. I know each of its traits and quirks, and I know exactly where you are ticklish, not that there is a lack of ticklish spots on you.”

As Cas said this, he tickled Dean’s stomach, just to the side of his navel. Dean flinched and giggles poured out of him. The tickling was so much more intense now that he was tied up and couldn’t do anything to block or shield himself from the ticklish sensations running across and under his skin.

Cas smiled, not pausing his tickling fingers. “This is going to be very enjoyable Dean, for both of us.”

—

continue reading at part 2: Secret’s Revealed

[russellthornton]

Nothing Makes Me Happy: How to Make Happiness Your Default State

Staring at a bottomless pit? If your mind is saying “nothing makes me happy,” then we’re in the territory of depression. Here’s how to break free.

Firstly, much of what I share can’t be fully put into words. It’s something you actually need to experience. If you feel like nothing makes you happy, consider this feature my attempt to create a proxy that points you towards the right direction, rather than a step-by-step advice manual on finding happiness if you have none.

I feel somewhat qualified to talk about this topic because I spent around 10+ years stuck in negative-thought loops, crippling anxiety, and a fuzz of depression, which I pulled myself out of. I’ve also written books on the subject and mentored others moving beyond anxiety. But I also want to acknowledge RSDTyler and JulienHimself, who you can find on YouTube, for helping me word this.

What’s behind the grey haze?

If you strip away all the other motivations/reasons why we do what we do, at the heart of it all is that we want to be happy. Not a momentary dirty high type of happiness, but a continuous state of being anxiety-free, depression-free, and just feeling like… whoosh—that continuous, easy state of contentment where life is just good.

But when nothing makes you happy, your experience of life might be negative-thought loops that seem uncontrollable. Maybe you can’t stop thinking of what others think of you. Or you feel like your mind is a living hell—a grey fuzz and mental fog that just won’t clear. Maybe even reading this feature is difficult because your mind is too exhausted to concentrate for long periods.

The mistake many of us make is thinking that attaining the state of happiness is something that’s out there. [Read: How to feel happy: 13 proven strategies for instant happiness]

Happiness is actually our default state. We tell ourselves, ‘I’m not happy so I will go out there and find out how to be happy. Maybe if I achieve more, or if I get a lover, get more approval, get attention, or material stuff then I’ll be happy.’ In the end, you end up thinking, nothing makes me happy.

Nothing make me happy: But happiness only comes when we let go

Now I’m not saying achieving things isn’t important. It just misses the point.

“Being happy is something you already are. You get there by realizing you are already there.” –JulienHimself

With that said, here’s what you want to consider when all you think is “nothing make me happy.”

#1 Giving up the fight. You’d think trying to get over depression by fighting it would be the way to beat it. I don’t think this is true. People love their story even if it’s painful and hurts them. This is because it’s familiar and self-validating to tell yourself a unique story of why your life sucks and how it’s a big problem.

It’s harder to just let go of the urge to focus on the feelings of self-pity. I know I spent years thinking about how bad I felt, which got me nowhere.

Ironically, the more I focused on doing and trying to get better the more it fed my negative-thought loops with attention. Focusing instead on the present moment *with moments where you make future goals that you write down* is a much better direction to pour your attention.

Even when you work on a big dissertation, you choose to focus on each step bit by bit, rather than looking ahead at your score or on some worrying thought about something that happened earlier in the day. [Read: Sabotaging your happiness: 12 ways you can ruin your life]

#2 Getting into the now. Ever said to yourself ‘why can’t I just stop obsessing?’ It was as if you talked about some part of you that is you yet separate from you. This is your thinking mind.

Your thinking mind may be incredibly good at creating problems and repetitive thoughts and feelings. It may constantly worry about the past and be fearful of the future, so you no longer appreciate the beauty of the present moment and even leads to you feeling nothing at all.

Spending time dis-identifying with the thinking mind shows you the difference between you and your habituated thought patterns.

I can’t word this any better—reading/listening to the likes of The Power Of Now gives you a solid realization of what the present moment is. You learn how to observe your own negative thought patterns without trying to force them away. Also, meditating around 20 minutes daily is a fantastic practice. [Read: How to calm your mind and make peace a state of mind]

#3 Accepting that it will be a bitch to overcome negative thought habits. Know someone who when something bad happens to them they deal with it or sort of laugh it off and move on? That person’s baseline level of how good they usually feel is maybe a seven or eight out of 10.

But if you’re stuck in a pattern of negative thoughts and feelings, you’re the reverse. So maybe you’re usually a two or three out of 10. So even if you get a spike of good feelings that pushes you to say a five or even a 10 out of 10, it eventually falls back to baseline.

I think it’s important to accept that this habit will be very, very difficult to get over. But you naturally find your baseline increase if you just have faith. You can’t make a number for how long it will take to get to a good baseline. It may take two months. Or two years. Just trust the process and you’ll make incremental progress bit by bit. [Read: The rules of life – 22 secrets to never be unhappy again]

#4 Understanding negative thought loops are an addiction. Just think of online trolls who can’t stop feeding on the negativity and drama. The longer you’ve been depressed, the deeper your negative-thought loop groove will be. It’s like your grumpy granddad who can only maintain a sense of appreciation for a few hours at a time, before he finds something to complain vehemently about.

Your body does anything to try and put you back into that habituated frame of mind. Things like daily five-minute gratitude journals get your mind to practice a new habit that replaces your old ones over time.

#5 Choosing to accept suffering. All humans innately experience suffering because life is difficult. But how you face this suffering makes all the difference in the world. This is the difference between:

Living in fear and playing it safe. Or Facing your fears *such as the fact that everyone you’ve ever known will die at some point* and doing the shit that scares you that you avoid in your life *check out the book The 50th Law for how*.

Life is full of suffering and chaos. But we have two choices in how we accept this reality:

We conclude nothing matters because life is random. Or We say everything matters and we’ll take full responsibility to live properly *by being brave and not holding back our highest potential*

Everything can be looked at multiple ways. It depends on how you frame a situation. As it is, if you’re always unhappy you may have the frame of the nihilist, where nothing matters.

This is actually an easy way of going about life *though it’s excruciatingly hard to live with and fills you with despair*. But it’s not the right way if you want to find meaning and happiness. The proper way is to be the hero and accept life’s suffering willingly. [Read: How to deal with loneliness: 12 ways to bring you back to life]

#6 Sorting out your life incrementally. Accept where you’re at right now. And move forward within that context. The key is to start with the small things in your life.

Start really small and just with yourself. Tidy your room if it’s messy. Organize your things. Make sense of the chaos that you have direct control over. Get a regular sleep routine where you wake up and sleep at a particular time each day. Start small and increase your scope bit by bit as you gain confidence.

#7 Sorting out your health. Here are crucial things to address over time if you have brain fog/depression/anxiety:

– Schedule a check-up with your doctor *hormone levels, blood/micronutrient test, allergy test*. – Exercise adequately. – Getting adequate sleep in a dark room each day. – Removing inflammatory/allergenic foods *consider an elimination diet* – Cutting out all processed foods like bread, white rice, biscuits, sugar, flour-based foods. – Cranking up the greens *dark leafy greens*, whole foods with colors from the whole rainbow, and spices. – Consider also supplementing with micronutrients e.g. magnesium, vitamin D, omega-3s.

#8 Let loose and have a social life. Such as taking time out, de-stressing *e.g. using saunas*, spending time just mucking around with people who make you laugh, having a social circle, goofing around, and doing new things and having new experiences. You can meet all kinds of people on sites like meetup.com. [Read: Beat boredom with 30 fun things to do with friends]

#9 Accepting that you are a sponge. You can do a lot to change your life and mood. But the fact is that you will be the sum of the five closest friends you have and the books you’ve read. So, if you spend a lot of time around people who feed on negativity this brings you back to a low base line.

You may need to change the types of shows you watch, the types of websites you read, your job, your friends, even leave your family if they seem to fan the flames.

#10 Accept that you’ll have setbacks. This is major. If you don’t expect to have setbacks you’ll feel completely destroyed when they happen. You will have really low days *even low weeks* despite making progress. This awareness limits how much you get in your own way.

#11 Mapping out your past, present, and future. Programs like selfauthoring.com help you make sense of everything. If you’ve been through a lot of inner torment you’ll need to sort through your past obstacles and learn how to master them so that they don’t occur again in the future.

It’s also seriously important to know what your future plans are. If you have no life goals you can have no positive emotions!

#12 Not lying. If you try to present a mask to others you reject a part of who you are, which is like self-hate. You don’t have to tell people everything about you but not telling lies, even when it seems difficult, is important if you want to make sense of your life. [Read: How to stop lying to yourself and everyone around you]

#13 Finding a good psychiatrist. Do you have good friends, a good job, a good diet—a good psychiatrist helps you to consider these things. And if despite having all these being okay you’re still depressed you may be a candidate for pharmaceutical interventions that balance out balance brain chemicals.

[Read: 15 things everyone should know about how to live a happy life]

Your natural default state is happiness. However, things get in the way of this awareness including: disconnection from the present moment, avoiding personal fears, inflammatory diet/lifestyle, and not sorting through your life goals, past traumas, and relationships.

The post Nothing Makes Me Happy: How to Make Happiness Your Default State is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.