#the very fact that i have to put this disclaimer is so infuriating and sad

[smolbeandrabbles]

Kiss Me Quiet - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ 

‘Tell me something good’ is fantastic line context for later... FYI.😏😏

Author’s Note: Requested by @slurpin! Thank you SO much for your request! Especially as it’s Nolan 🥰🥰🥰

Well if there’s one good thing to come out of my slight writing (and life in general) spiral, it’s the first few paragraphs of this fic!

Also this went through three songs before I landed on this one, by accident on youtube as ever, and I loved it *so* much that it had to be the one I used. Kiss Me Quiet - Jess Moskaluke

Disclaimer: RPO naught to do with me / Of course we’re referencing Lacero again / gifs & lyrics not mine Premise: There’s been a lot weighing on your mind recently, even though you’re on holiday. Nolan Sorrento wants to cheer you up, and he’s got a good bottle of wine... Words: 2727 Warnings: sexual connotations / some sexy shenanigans / dirty talk / swearing / drinking.

____

You're laying back chill, biting your tongue Taking it in, looking like you love Listening to me run my pretty little mouth And the sweet soft sound as the words fall out

Oh it's a sexy little dance You watching me talking with my hands Oh and you know I won't quit That look like you're trying to resist my lips says

Tell me what you want, where you wanna go Tell me who you are, what you think Yeah you're smiling like you wanna know All my crazy friends, boy I'll make you laugh Talking 'bout Panama City, best spring break I ever had Baby I know what you want When you crank my favorite song So I'll sing along, yeah, sing along Sing up a riot 'Till you kiss me quiet I'll keep going on and on until you kiss me quiet

Can you keep a secret, I'll whisper in your ear Boy, I'll make you hang onto every word you hear I'll keep spilling it, you keep listening till you can't hold back no more

I'll tell you what I want, where I wanna go Tell you who I am, what I think Yeah you're smiling like you wanna know All my crazy friends, boy I'll make you laugh Taking 'bout Panama City, best spring break I ever had Baby, I know what you want When you crank my favorite song So I'll sing along, yeah, sing along Sing up a riot 'Till you kiss me quiet

---

“How are you feeling?” Was such an odd question to be asked when on top of a hill, in the quiet, in sunshine, looking out over the serene view of Sorrento and the sweeping bay. Gorgeous sapphire blue sea stretching out towards the rest of mainland Europe. It wasn’t that he was asking you how you were feeling, but the tone Nolan was asking it in.

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, the way his blue eyes studied you with careful interest. There was a lot of concern there too. But he stayed sitting where he was; he didn’t want to get closer, didn’t want to smother you if it wasn’t needed or wanted. “You’ve been quiet for a while, nearly all holiday.” “I’m fine.” And you meant it, “Nolan you know me, I just... have quiet spells.” “I was starting to think it was me.” He murmured his thought almost guiltily. And you shook your head. No, no it wasn’t. It was just he, nor the view, could really cheer you up right now. You were fine, that was true, but you couldn’t say you’d raise it above that. Not quite yet anyway. Nolan Sorrento could probably change that around if he wanted; it was already clear by the fact you were up here that he was putting the effort in. Nolan always did. He knew how to break through that, so he could get to hearing the sweet sound of your voice again. Which was certainly one of his favourite things – something he could associate with the comfort of home, calm and welcoming after a long work day, soothing and delicate as you’d hold him and tell him it was all going to be okay, how loud you got when you talked a on and on around something you were passionate about, or when you got mad, or drunk… the way you laughed. That slight waiver you always tried to hide when you were sad that he could pick up on immediately to quiet your fears, or work on making you smile again. Luckily it wasn’t present right now, but Nolan was afraid of hearing it. Then that shake… a delightful thing to be able to draw from you: beside him, on top of him, pinned under him… it didn’t matter where; just that moment. And how it sounded over the phone, how you’d make the tone of your voice sweet, sultry… sexy - everything you would say when he was a little too far away from you for a little too long… Nolan shuffled uncomfortably for a moment where he was sitting and cleared his throat – painfully aware he’d thought on that for a little too long.  All he had to do was get you talking about something that made you happy, something that would bring you back to life. Pull you from whatever had got you so far gone… Maybe he could flirt with you, maybe he could even get you blushing. Nolan knew that he’d have to be careful with that one though; one false move and you’d be driven away, or you’d snap at him. That was a fine line, he’d just have to be careful and coax it out of you. Luckily the planned date was a picnic up here, so, admire the views all you want but cracking open a good bottle of wine was going to change all that; even if your only thought was put to teasing him about it. As you heard him rummaging around you couldn’t help be curious: Nolan muttered to himself - in Italian you had to note - as he uncorked the bottle, and although your first thought was ‘I hope he isn’t expecting us to drink the whole THING?!’ you couldn’t help but tip your head. Okay, you knew what he was doing, but you’d bite. “Let me guess, that’s Sorrento made?” “Sorrento?” God damn him for rolling the r’s like that, “Close…” He pulled out a glass and skilfully poured it like you might see a mixologist do behind a fancy bar. Party trick? You guessed he’d probably picked it up somewhere. “And what, it’s 1999?” “Oooh…” He smirked, “She’s close, once more.” He held the glass out to you, “But no dice.” “Then what!?” You took it and Nolan showed you the bottle, “Oh. My birth year? I thought it was only good if it was ’99.” “Usually. But, it’s not about me. This time.” He gave a gentle wink, and poured himself a glass before placing the bottle back, “So, to you. And trying to cheer you up!” For a minute your stare at him was blank, before you blinked slowly, “You are… infuriating.” “Ah, so it’s working?” “NO.” Although you couldn’t help but smile into the glass as you sipped. “Look whatever it is, you know I’d do anything to fix it. You do, don’t you?” “Nolan…” you sighed gently, “It’s not you. It’s just… a mood I get into sometimes.” “I know you might not think so,” His head tipped, blue eyes soft, “but I’m a good listener too. Like for like, you listen to me enough. About time I did the same.” You were quiet, staring back at your glass, the reflection of yourself in the red liquid – before you took a deep breath: “I don’t know. Work, I guess.” “Mm?” He raised an eyebrow. “You put in effort and, either no one recognises it or they just take the credit, then you wonder why you bother or… Is this it? Is this the life I’m going to live?” “Well, not everything’s bad right?” You could hear that slight hurt that you would do anything to take back. “N-No. Oh, Nolan, yes I have you! But… I can’t pin all my happiness on you. That’s not fair.” He very nearly tipped the whole glass back, “Fuck ‘em. Come work for me.” You immediately snorted, “Oh no, no no no, I’m not working for IOI.” “What!? Why?” “No way. I couldn’t!” You shook your head vigorously. “You’d be a damn sight better than most of them!” He sounded more desperate than persuasive. “Oh no, I’ve heard so many horror stories!” “Really?” “Yeah, especially about their CEO.” You couldn’t keep a straight face, and began to giggle. His eyes narrowed, smile knowing, “Is that right?” Then you couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes. Can confirm-” “Confirm?!” You waved your hand, laughing at his outrage, “-None of those rumours are true.” “You are on such thin ice!!” Nolan shook his head at you, but was grinning, then indicated to your glass, “Well?!” “Oh,” you looked to it, “you really don’t need me to tell you how good it is, do you?” “Eh, I dunno, feed my ego.” “It’s delicious. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to pick wine for me in a million years.” “That’s my girl!” He smiled, pouring himself another glass, then held it out to toast with yours, “Now I’ve got a smile back on your face, c’mon… let’s talk about something a little nicer!”

So, talk started to turn to other holidays, you’d both been to Sorrento before, both together and alone. In fact one year you’d come out here with your friends and explored the Amalfi coast before heading up to city areas like Rome and Milan; your ‘little’ Italian road trip. Apparently, that didn’t compare to being here with him – and you noticed that smirk – or your ‘best spring break ever’. He’d met your friends and each and every one of them was crazy: it’d been a lot to take in for him at once but once they’d broken through the play-it-straight businessman they all seemed to really like him. He’d never got vibes they didn’t, although Nolan knew why they were protective of you, and you’d never had the inclination to tell him they didn’t like him. But the stories about your adventures together? Downright hysterical. You’d been fairly lucky growing up in ways that Nolan hadn’t. He’d surely worked very hard in a very short period of time to become who he was. You’d always lived fairly comfortably; you at least had no complaints. So, Nolan lived all his wild spring break adventures through you. Much more likely to have spent his own fixing up old gaming and projection systems, or looking after his little sister. You’d had a lot of near misses and dodged bullets and you were the fairly careful one of your friends. Pretty soon you were both crying laughing and Nolan had to ask you to stop for just a second so he could catch his breath. He wasn’t averse to talking about some of his favourite things either, even if they were more recent memories. Even if some of them were just travels he’d got to take with IOI. Even just something he was building or planning for the OASIS. Nolan often had the imagination, but no means of execution. Even with the millions IOI made, he was fairly restricted by the happiness of his shareholders and the board of directors. You’d read his little book of plans that he’d kept ideas in ever since his earliest day of interning with Gregarious Games, and one day you hoped he’d be able to put all of these things into production. For now, Nolan was content and that was all that mattered to you. And all yours on weekends, and holidays. He was not allowed to bring work home with him and, on the rare occasions he did, Nolan always asked your express permission – not that you were going to say no when he was giving you that face. Although by this point, he had his tablet out and was shuffling through your playlist. You weren’t all alone up here, but other visitors to the site were far enough away for it not to disturb them. Nolan nudged the conversation back to you though, so that he could hear your voice, talking about anything and everything, now you were focused on Sorrento, on the view before you. Your tone dreamy and far off; his favourite person talking about one of his favourite places on earth. With fine wine and good Italian food, it was altogether a perfect mix. Nolan was focused so much on your body language, the way you moved, the sounds you made, every nuance of your face that added so much colour to what you were saying… whatever you were saying, because he wasn’t hearing words. But you were clearly talking to him, and asking him questions because the next thing he knew you’d turned your beautiful eyes on his awaiting an answer. “-Nolan!?” “W-what, I’m… I’m sorry I-” You folded your arms with a gasp, teasing, “You weren’t even listening to me?!” “No that’s not it… I was… listening so hard that I didn’t hear a word.” “…That- doesn’t make sense!” “Admiring… the way you say things, not… the what. Who you are. It’s- it just makes me happy. I guess I’m just thinking about you… a lot.” “Oh…” Your voice got quiet for a minute, and you looked to the blanket with a small blush. Ah… there was one…a perfect moment. And a good first chance. “I mean… I can’t figure out whether I like you best on top of me, beneath me, or next to me. What do you think?” Your eyes widened for a second, before flicking back up to meet his. The single beat you missed was to work out if Nolan was being serious, but it was obvious by the glint in his eyes. “I don’t really care, but I do know if these people weren’t around, I would jump you right now!” The slight shock on your face turned into a very pointed smirk. “If you were quiet I’m sure no one would notice…” “I have no intention of being quiet if I’m going to rip through the buttons on your nice shirt, Mr. Sorrento.” “This shirt was pretty expensive. You’re lucky I could cover the cost.” But he winked, “I hope you’ve eaten enough, because trust me you’re gonna need all that energy. I think I’ll go with beneath me. I’m sure there’s a tie somewhere I can bind your wrists with…” The blush across your face deepened and your body immediately latched onto that with an oh! that you were glad didn’t make its way out verbally. “Now I just want you to come over here and fuck me.” “Don’t care who’s watching?” “No.” “Imagine that one in the Columbus papers tomorrow…” Nolan breathed deep, “It’d almost be worth it!” You whined, tipping yourself back onto your hands with a pout. Nolan had this look in his eyes like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he wasn’t wrong; he was succeeding in turning you on. “God, I just want my hands all over you.” “Finish the bottle and I’ll consider it.” He sipped gently at his glass again, “I’m not wasting a vintage this good.” “Just pour it on me then.” “Red wine?!” He looked repulsed for a second, “Honey, there’s plenty of things I would lick off your body but red wine is not one of them. I do have a little bit of class.” “Nolan-!” Your protest of his name was breathless. “If it were Champagne, I’d consider it.” “You’re fucking killing me.” “Or just fucking you…” He smirked again, watching the way your chest rose and fell heavily, he could bet on the sweet ache between your thighs right now; touché, Nolan had one of his own that he was trying to control behind that façade. He pulled the bottle out of the basket again and studied the level in the sunlight, “Half glass each aughta do it…” You held yours out eagerly, making Nolan smirk a little harder as he turned to pour it, but his pour was agonisingly slow and he left the bottle tipped as he finished the measure. “C’mere…” He coaxed you gently; he’d been holding back what he really wanted to do all day, Nolan wasn’t about to now. And you weren’t about to resist him, as he pulled you into a wine-soaked kiss. You immediately grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to you and hardly caring that you were probably spilling a good amount of this glass everywhere, even though Nolan himself had managed to carefully place the bottle back down, drawing your body closer his hand travelled beneath your skirt and he brushed his fingers delicately over your panties. This time your moan was into his kiss. Nolan pulled back with a chuckle, but his fingertips lingered there and he continued to tease you, “Mmm… I thought so. You’re already so wet, for me.” His voice was husky and you couldn’t help shiver in pleasure. “Nolan…” Your face was red and he wasn’t sure if it was the wine finally getting to you, or your blush was just that deep, but you looked gorgeous, and your voice was at a needy pitch. Yes, it was getting hard to control himself… He allowed you to kiss him again; and that wine tasted even better from your lips. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this on holiday but can we go back to our hotel room?’ Your voice was quiet, and your hands were steadying your body against his as he continued to touch you. Nolan’s smile was soft, as if you were sitting across from him at a fine restaurant and he was being an absolute gentleman, “Ab-so-lute-ly.” He circled your sweet spot with every syllable and you bit back your whine this time. “Will you speak Italian to me all the time too?” If there was one other thing that could get you off, it was that. You couldn’t trust him to speak Italian in anything less than the sexiest manner possible with his only intent to get you to push him against a wall, or beg him to find a quieter place at the party to get a little quick and dirty. He smirked deliciously once more, “Va bene.” And you cursed, shivering as Nolan leant forward to kiss your neck. Your stomach gave a flutter as he removed his hand from between your thighs – not for long… Soon your clothes would be strewn all over the floor of your hotel instead…

---

Thank you for reading my lovelies! 😘😘

[callioope]

Okay, well, apparently now I have to START OVER from scratch because the tumblr new post option doesn’t remember the text you already entered when you RESIZE YOUR BROWSER

*insert Zuko tantrum here*

ANYWAYS let me try to remember what I was saying before I lost like five or six paragraphs of thoughts.

Thoughts on Avatar: The Last Airbender

Overall, I really enjoyed the show. The main characters were interesting and well-written, including most of the villains, and it always felt like their actions and feelings were understandable, even when they were very obviously doing something that wasn’t good for them or those around them. (Which is not to say they were justified — just that you could understand why they felt, thought, or did something.) 

On that note, it also felt like their choices and actions drove the plot, and that’s generally something I’m trying to integrate more into my own writing. It’s easy to plan a story by saying the plot is a list of things that happen, but what I want is characters to shape the plot. 

What do they want? What are they able to achieve in the direction of that want? How might their flaws get in the way? How might the wants and actions of other characters get in their way? Etc. 

I mean, now that I’m writing it here, it seems pretty basic and obvious as far as storytelling goes, but I don’t think it always is to some writers and there’s something about writing it out and framing it in a particular way that helps me.

While we’re on the subject of character, I think most of the main characters had really satisfying arcs. Aang is very silly in the beginning of the show (and he’s a kid, of course he is), and he grows up a lot over the series (which is actually kind of sad, but apparently his burden. I was going to say the burden of the Avatar, but I don’t think that’s even true, especially considering they don’t usually reveal who the Avatar is until they reach 16 — Aang being an exception). Obviously Zuko’s arc is the most dramatic, and I’ll get to that later, but I knew where that was going and I loved every moment of it. 

Speaking of knowing Zuko’s arc ahead of time — I should disclaim that I very rarely shied away from spoilers when they showed up on my dash, so I had a pretty good idea of the main plot points of the show even if I didn’t know every detail. And while I may not have been able to state a lot of what I’d read off the top of my head, very frequently as I was watching, I’d go “Oh YEAH, I remember reading about this.” 

One final preliminary thought before we dive into things, but also, I had no idea how to pronounce many of the characters’ names! I’d only ever read them before. Particular ones I got wrong: Sokka (thought it rhymes with Ahsoka), Toph (thought it rhymes with loaf), and Mai (thought it rhymes with pie). Not important but just something I found strangely jarring. Toph was weird in particular because it sounded like her parents called her “Tough” but then everyone else said her name as though it rhymes with “off”. 

OKAY BUT ONWARDS

INITIAL IMPRESSIONS: Book 1

Sokka

Sokka became a fast favorite! Despite his major misogyny issues, which were quickly addressed and something he grew past, I really sympathized with him early on. He has to put up with a lot! I mean, Aang is really silly and playful in the beginning and Katara often joins in. I don’t remember specific examples but if I recall, in the beginning (and actually even towards the end), he’s incredibly goal-focused and Aang keeps diverting their plans. 

I’ve been told that the overall fandom of Sokka is that he’s a big dummy, and I find this baffling. Yes, he often has goofy ideas, but then often his creativity becomes incredibly helpful! He reminds me of Ron Weasley. He may not be booksmart, but he’s creative and strategic. And if you know me at all you know I love Ron Weasley. #WeasleyIsOurKing #RonWeasleyProtectionSquad

Some favorite Sokka quotes from early on: 

“Oh, what, I’m not good enough to kidnap?”

“our friend is the avatar and i bet he'll fetch more on the black market”

Man, Sokka ended up having two love interests in this season! First Suki, and by the way, I was always confused about whether or not Suki was officially “part” of the crew based on the gifs and posts I saw. Sometimes seemed like she wasn’t, sometimes not. Obviously I understand why that is now, but anyways. Also I think for some reason I thought it was Toph who became the moon rather than Princess Yue. LOL! Toph/Sokka isn’t even canon but I guess I’ve seen that ship around enough I thought it was. More on Toph/Sokka later, since Toph isn’t in Book 1.

Aang

Aang is a Lot. I’ve already touched on how he’s incredibly silly and playful and the tone of the show initially is pretty goofy. It’s a kid’s show! That’s to be expected. But I really felt overly conscious of the fact that it was a kid’s show and I don’t think I would have kept watching if so many people hadn’t already raved about the show. 

On the other hand, any character who decided to yell at a literal kid for “turning his back on the world” infuriated me. Like, yes, okay, that is how Aang feels already and perhaps arguably what happened, but he’s still a child, and that’s not fair to put that burden on him. I mean considering that it’s eventually revealed that the monks told Aang he was the Avatar four years earlier than usual, why would they even assume that he knew the consequences? 

Katara

I did like the plot with Katara being frustrated at how quickly Aang picks up waterbending. I’ve been on both sides of that situation, and it sucks for both people. I appreciated them spending some time exploring it. 

I hated Master Pakku. He only agreed to teach Katara after he saw she was his former fiance’s granddaughter, not because he had any kind of revelation that he was Wrong in his thinking. At least, that was my interpretation of that moment. Are there any other girls in his class after he agrees to teach Katara? I don’t remember seeing any. 

Should I talk about shipping yet? I’m under the impression that can be a very touchy subject! Well, all I’ll say is this: seemed pretty heavy-handed in this season that Aang/Katara was the intended final ship. 

I don’t have another subsection so we’ll just toss this in under Katara cuz why not: Jet is something else. SMH. I appreciate them including a character like that here, but man was he annoying. (And I know he’s supposed to be, so congratulations, effect achieved.)

Zuko!!! & Iroh

Uncle Iroh is amazing. He diverts their journey to buy a new lotus piece for his game, only to find it had been in his sleeve all along! And I really just adore how much Iroh cares about his nephew. From the beginning it’s clear that Iroh is a better father to Zuko. 

This ended up continuing through the show, but I appreciated how Zuko’s story tended to parallel the story of another character (usually Aang although not always). Specifically how we learn Aang and Zuko’s backstory in the same episode. 

Speaking of Zuko’s backstory, this is something I appreciate as a Well Done Redemption arc, and I know for a fact that I’ve already read posts about this but I just want to express my own appreciation for it. His redemption arc works because they show the seeds of good that always existed within him. We, as the audience, see that very early on. We see him stand up to his father’s war council and stand up for the troops they were going to sacrifice. This is *integral* to his redemption working. It’s not the only part of his story that makes it work, but that redemption arc wouldn’t have worked as well without it. 

Finally on that subject, my reaction to his Agni Kai with his father: “I knew Zuko’s father was Awful, and I think I even knew he was the one who burned him, but this? This is crazy. PS: pretty sure we just saw a cameo of Azula smirking in the background!”

This was getting long, so I decided to break it into parts for each book/season.

[kookscrescent]

Get You (m) │ jjk

➤ pairing│Jungkook x female reader ➤ request│I was wondering if it’s too much to ask if I can get a request of a jungkook scenario based on the song “Get you “ by Daniel Cesar ft Kalis uchis ➤ summary│After getting into a fight with Jungkook that you thought you already made up for, he decides to make up for it some more. ➤ rating│NC-17, mature, 18+ ➤ genre│Smut, angst, boyfriend au ➤ warnings│unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) a little swearing, some angst, fighting, oral (female receiving) multiple orgasms, cremepie  ➤ word count│3.1k│semi edited ➤ release date│July 22nd 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

The bedroom is quiet, the only source of light coming from the open window, the moon beautifully casting a white glow across the carpeted floor.

You are sound asleep after a long and tiring day, but besides you Jungkook lays fully awake. He’s tired but he can’t seem to fall asleep, not being able to shut of his brain and constantly going back to what happened earlier.  

You fought.

You never normally fight, but today you did… it was totally uncalled for and he keeps beating himself up about it. If he’d just handled it differently, then you wouldn’t have ended up crying.

He stirs a little in the bed, turning his body towards you. Even though your back is to him, he can still see the reflection of your beautiful face in the window. Sighing he runs a hand through his messy hair, his thoughts going back a few hours.

It all kicked off when he got home around 10 pm, extremely exhausted and worn out after a long day at both the studio and at dance rehearsals. For some unknown reason he just couldn’t focus today! Not matter what he did or didn’t do, he got most of the dance moves wrong and he wasn’t happy with the way his voice sounded either.

This led to him being very irritable by the time he got home to you, sitting alone at the dining table with a sad look on your face.

Oh fuck! Was the first thought that ran through his mind when he saw the table lined with burning candles, flowers and a delicious meal that was probably cold.

He had forgotten your 3 year anniversary…

You didn’t say a word to him as he walked further into the room, really taking in everything you had prepared for the first time. His eyes scanning over the table, to the fluffy blankets you had ready in the living room for when you were supposed to watch a movie together, before you would retreat to the bedroom.

“You couldn’t have called?” you finally broke the unbearable silence, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted. You were sad and it was noticeable.

“I’m really not in the mood to talk about this right now.” Jungkook answered, before heading into the kitchen.

You followed him in there, “Not in the mood?” you said. “What the hell does that mean?” you weren’t going to let him dismiss this so easily.

“It means exactly that… not in the mood.” He took a long sip of the glass of water he’d just poured, starring straight past you, not even looking you in the eyes.

That only infuriated you more. It’s your 3 year anniversary and he left that morning before you even had a chance to wake up and kiss him goodbye, let alone talk to him. He doesn’t call or text you all day to let you know that he’s going to be held up in the studio or where ever, and then he comes home not wanting to talk about it?? After you’ve gone through so much trouble trying to make this day special for the both of you.

You were about to say something when he cut you off. “I mean it ____, I don’t want to talk about this right now! I’ve had a shit day, I’m irritated, pissed off and exhausted! I just wanna sleep.” He told you leaving the kitchen.

You stopped him in the living room before he could make it any further. “Well guess what?” you said, your voice raising with every word you spoke. “So am I Jungkook! I’ve been running around like a headless chicken all day trying to make all of this,” you waved your arms around you, gesturing to everything you had prepared, “perfect for when you finally came home! And you couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone to call me, or even text me that you were going to be home really late!”

“No one fucking asked you to do all this!” he yelled, taking you a bit by surprise.

“No, you’re right, no one did, but that’s what you do when you love someone and want to make a special day even more special!” Your face was red with anger, your eyes glossed over, and your hands were shaking.

“Don’t insinuate that I don’t love you, that’s bullshit!” he spat clearly offended.

“I didn’t insinuate anything!” You defended yourself. “Did you forget?” you asked him seconds later, tears ready to spill.

“Forget what?”

“Today. Did you forget today?” you repeated, your voice becoming small. You clearly didn’t want to know the answer. If he had forgotten you would be crushed.

Jungkook looked conflicted and a long moment of silence goes by before he finally decided to speak. “Yes and no.”

“Yes and no?” you questioned.

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I remembered, okay! I only forgot as the day went by and I got tangled up in work.” His eyes were going back and forth from the ground and your face.

You huffed. That just sounded like a bullshit lie to cover for the fact that he really did forget. “Am I really supposed to believe that? You forgot as the day went by?” you wiped the tears that had managed to escape with the back of your hand. “Fine, whatever Jungkook…”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked you, sounding almost offended and sad by the fact.

“No, I don’t believe you!”

Abruptly he turned and left, heading for the bedroom. You stood there for a few seconds confused but just as you were about to go after him, he came storming back with a small black gift bag in his hand.

“You don’t believe me? Fine whatever, just know that I bought this for you yesterday! And if you still don’t believe me, I put the receipt back in there for you!” He slammed the small bag down on the table in front of you, leaving you to look inside it, finding a small matching black box.

With trembling hands, you reached inside to fish it out – it felt surprisingly heavy. You slowly opened the lid, your breath hitching when you saw what was inside.

A beautiful silver ring with diamonds all around the band – not too many for it to be tacky, but still enough to take your breath away.

A few days prior you had been talking and somehow you had ended up on the topic of jewelry, and the fact that you wanted to replace one of your old rings, that you literally had worn for years and years.

You felt the tears starting to come back again, this time because you were feeling like a complete idiot for not believing Jungkook.

“This is beautiful,” you commented quietly.

“Yeah…” Jungkook answered, his eyes focused on the ring in your hands.

Seeing you with the ring in your hands, your eyes welling up from the sight, brought him back to reality, making him realize what had just happened! You had just had a fight, because he was being a child, and was being pissed off at everything and everyone because he’d had a bad day at work.

He felt like a complete asshole for treating you like that! You had never been anything but supportive from the day you met each other! Whenever he has a bad day you are always know exactly what he needs! Whether it be a hug, some peace and quiet, a long bath, it doesn’t matter! You always know! And the thanks he gives you is treating you like dirt on your anniversary.

Plopping himself down in a chair, he lowered his head, not even being able to look you in the eyes. “Baby I’m so fucking sorry!” He murmured, but still loud enough for you to hear it.

“I should never ever have treated you like that! You don’t deserve that!” He went on before you could talk. “I swear to God and everything that I didn’t forget!” Finally, he looked up at you, you were still holding on to the ring, a single tear had escaped down your cheek, and at the sight Jungkook’s gut twisted in shame.

“I hate seeing you cry because of me,” his voice barely a whisper.

“They are happy tears now,” you smiled weakly as you sat down in the chair next to him. “I forgive you.”

His head shot up in surprise. You forgave him? “You shouldn’t! Not this easy! Not after the way I spoke to you or handled things! I was having a shit day, but I should never take that out on you! The number one person that has stuck by me for the past 3 years, through all my ups and downs, and through the times I wanted to quit when it felt like the whole world was against me! The person I love the most in the world, and I treat you like crap in return…” he lowered his head as he finished speaking. He could feel the tears starting to form, but he held them back, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“Don’t say that! You don’t treat me like crap! I have never been treated this good by anyone, ever! You make me feel like a princess every single day!” you tell him firmly. “And I wasn’t exactly fair on you either.” You state with a small smile. “I could tell that you weren’t in a good mood when you walked in and just wanted to be left alone, but I got upset and angry and-“

“With good reason.” He commented.

“Yes, maybe so, but we still both handled the situation completely wrong, and I shouldn’t have accused you of lying either and I’m sorry for that.” You really were! Jungkook has never had a tendency to lie to you and you have never had a reason to lie to him either.

You turned the box in your hand, the small diamonds catching the light from the overhanging lamp. “It really is beautiful,” you commented once again, your eyes never leaving the ring.

“Just like you,” your eyes met for a few seconds, before Jungkook gently took the box from you. Taking out the small silver ring with one hand, he reached for your left hand with the other. Slowly he slid the ring on your finger – a perfect fit.

You both admired your now bejeweled hand for a few silent moments, before you broke it by placing both your hand on the sides of his face, bringing him closer to you.

“Thank you,” you softly whispered against his lips.

Jungkook is brought back to reality, when you stir lightly in the bed next to him, turning to face him still deep in your sleep, and out of pure instinct you reach out for him. Your hand lands on his bare chest, and you sigh in content by the contact. The ring on your finger shines in the light from the moon, and Jungkook gently places his larger hand over yours, giving it the smallest of squeezes as he runs the pad of his thumb over the diamonds.

You look so peaceful as you lay besides him, and he can’t help but still be mad at himself and wonder how in the world you could forgive him so easily. In his mind he’s going over all the things he wants to do to somehow make it up to you little by little.

Lifting the covers, he cuddles closer to you, pressing his naked body against your own, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you even closer. He starts pressing soft kisses all over you face. First your forehead, down your temple and across your cheek till he reaches your lips. He stops to kiss them a few times before he repeats the same process on the other side of your face.

Your eyelashes flutter open and you’re met with Jungkook’s beautiful bambi eyes.

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily, smiling when he mumbles an almost soundless hey in return, continuing to pepper kisses all over your face.

Running you fingers up his bare back, you settle at the nape of his hair, tugging slightly when you feel his lips lower to your neck. He’s searching for that one spot that’s going to make your melt in his hands.

“Babe, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning. We already made up earlier.” You chuckle, but it sounds more like a moan because his lips finds that particular spot on your neck.

“I don’t care. I just wanna love you.” He whispers, his lips now at the shell of your ear, shivers shooting down your back as speaks.

He rolls fully on top of you, being careful not to crush you with his weight, your naked bodies settling against each other. You spread your legs waiting for him to push inside you, but instead he kisses his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to the space between your thighs.

Before you even have time to register anything or tell him that he doesn’t have to, his mouth is on you. His tongue licking between your folds before he zones in on your clit, sucking just hard enough to have you withering in his hands. You reach out for his hair, tugging at it as he keeps sucking and adding his fingers in to the mix, making you cry out in pure pleasure. Wrapping one of his arms around your leg, he presses your hips down in the mattress, bringing his mouth even closer.

“Jungkook…” you pant over and over as he keeps up his pace of gently sucking your clit and his fingers working in and out of your heat.

Feeling you tighten around his fingers; he hums against you, the vibrations bringing you right to the edge where you’re about to fall over. He spreads your thighs even further with his hand, sucking harder on your clit and you cry out his name as you fall.

“Fuuuck!! Jungkook!” He helps you all the way through your high not letting up until you try pushing his head away and your legs are shaking from too much pleasure.

“One more,” he moans against you, his fingers now back inside you and his mouth back on your clit.

You can’t help but sit up, resting on your elbows, as you watch him work his magic on you. You have barely recovered from the last orgasm, so it doesn’t take long before he has your gasping for air and your hands mindlessly clawing at the bedsheet.

His moving fingers inside you pick up pace, his tongue flicking your clit in the same rhythm. Throwing your head back you feel your legs start to shake again, and the moans are spilling over your lips. You no longer have control over your body as Jungkook brings you over the edge for the second time.

You lay back down on your back, as he crawls back up your body, your arms wrapping around to cup the back of his neck to capture his lips with yours. Resting his weight on one of his forearms, the other one travels down between your bodies, and within seconds he’s got himself positioned at your entrance, pushing his way in to you.

“Holy fuck Jagiya!” he groans against the side of your neck, his hips starting a torturing rhythm. You whimper at the feel of him stretching you out so deliciously, running your nails down his back to grab his ass. You push him forward a little and he takes the hint and starts pumping in and out of you with more force.

“I love you ____.” he whispers looking into your eyes.

“I love you too Jungkook.” You whisper back.

The moans he’s letting out should be illegal, and your body heats up with the way he sounds and moves against you. He’s hitting you so deep, you can already feel your orgasm starting to build for the third time, your heat clenching around him in warning.

Jungkook moans out in pleasure, “Shiiiit… Already?” he asks in awe, his hips continuing their never-ending fast pace.

Frantically, you nod your head, no words wanting to come out of your mouth, other than breathy gasps and whispers of Jungkook’s name.

“Oh god Jungkook, I-I….” you lose your words, as he pulls back from your body, kneeling between your thighs instead, picking up right where he left off, his thrusts torturing you so sweetly. You’re clenching around him uncontrollably and you can’t do anything about it. You’re already falling over the edge, your orgasm taking over your body, your cries of pleasure filling the bedroom.

Jungkook gasps between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips in a tight grip, “Fuuuuuck!!” he groans loudly throwing his head back, as he too falls over the edge.

He leans back down over you and continues to slowly move inside you as you both calm down. You peck his lips gently before he gets up to grab a warm towel, cleaning you up before he joins you back under the covers.

Cuddling closer to him, you rest your head on his chest as he softly runs the tips of his finger up and down your spine. You hum in satisfaction; this right here is your happy place! Right in the arms of the man you love the most in the world.

“I will continue to make this up to you every single day babe!” You hate that he’s beating himself up over your fight so much! You were both clearly in the wrong and you could have handled it much smoother than how it went down.

You turn you head so you can get a better look at him, his eyes are already waiting for you. “I already forgave you like a million times babe,” you say cupping his cheek. “I really don’t want you stressing out about this so much! We had a fight; we both said and did some things that we wished we could take back! But we worked through it, like we do with everything, and it’s in the past now! No need to worry your beautiful head about it anymore.”

“How in the world did I get so lucky to get a girl like you in my life?” he asks quietly in to the air, his eyes never leaving yours.

You kiss his chest, nuzzling closer to him, “I’m the lucky one,” you tell him glancing at the ring on your finger.

I really had a lot of fun writing this even though it was kinda hard for me at times, idk why... but ehh! 

I really hope you like it! If you did don't forget to like or reblog ❀ It really means the world, so thank you! ❀ 

All Rights Reserved © 2020 Kookscrescent

[mikazukikannagisjourney]

Spiritual Log 2.0 November 26 2019

Subtitle: My personal essay on “The troubles of having BOOMER PARENTS,” actual or boomer-ized 😂

Hi everyone, so... This is the part 2 I was talking about... I have been planning to make this post since the OK Boomer thing popped out, which was around early this year? But I never got to, basically because life. Also because my writing app keeps crashing and just when I have written 4 pages of stuff or so, it died, and I didn’t get to save anything. I have to quit with the device, boot up the PC and do it because I cannot rest and I will not rest until I had this post up and running. So here you go, an account of having actual boomer parents lol But not all of them ok? Just most of them. Mine, at the very least. You don’t have to read this long-ass full-of-triggers post but if you need to feel validated because nobody  listens to your pain, it’s OK, feel free to read.

Disclaimers: I am writing this mostly for sharing and to give comfort to basically everyone who got negatively-affected deeply by the boomers in their lives. I am not putting any blame, just putting this info out there. Also, I am using the term "boomer" in its original sense, which is the shortened form of BABY BOOMERS aka the kids who were born around the time of World War II, most especially those born AFTER the war has ended. Also, don’t feel sad if you feel like your parents or other adult guardians just don’t get you. It’s bound to happen, and it’s better to just focus on the people who understand and get you better. Sometimes, if not most of the time, we just have to let go of expectations that the people we expect to understand the most because we’re related aka family members will do just that, but instead are the ones who will make us feel alienated the most. That’s quite painful at first, but very liberating once you get the hang of it.

OK, so before we get off-track, I shall start the premise of this post by saying that anyone who acts like a typical boomer aka isn’t open-minded, is too-fixed in their ways, isn’t open for discussions, has no ounce of creativity whatsoever, has no room for compromise or even agreeing to disagree, well, they’re boomers I guess? But what I will write here is an actual account of having actual boomer parents aka Pluto in Leo folks so yeah, you might wanna check out my post on that, right here. Then go back here lol

To start this post, I would like to mention that if you were led here, one way or another, I am here to tell you that this is no coincidence, the divine realms want you to reach your highest potential, but first to have to feel your lowest lows, through the eyes of other people. I will try my best not to make this a heavy post, but it might turn into one because I will be letting out my personal experiences and be at my weakest, even weaker than a soggy piece of bread. Please bear with me.

I don’t know who initially coined the term “OK boomer” but honestly, the phenomenon of youth infuriating the older generations is nothing new. This has been going on since time immemorial, which undoubtedly lead to steady improvements in science and technology. Unfortunately, when it comes to making connections, it pretty much just made understanding other people with large age gaps grow much harder, thus pushing them further apart. As a rebellious and hopelessly crazy child of boomer parents, this is how I faced my early life and even my life right now. It’s a way of living.

I don’t know exactly why boomer parents are just so hard-headed about things like work, stability, education, social standing, marriages, the lives of other people, the superficial stuff that pretty much other Pluto generations (again, see my post here lol) seem to not put that much energy into. They just had the best of luck by getting to choose their end goal, and following a straight, narrow-path to success that actually worked for them well. Go to school, get a job, get a higher education, you’ll get promoted, and then you’ll become a boss. Get married, have kids, buy a very large house and a really fast car, and you’ll be so happy. Climb the social ladder under all costs and you will find respect and success. That’s what these boomers swear by, because these life formula were something that they were able to easily get. Easy promotions (they will tell you that they worked “hard” for it, yeah like 2 years or so. I have been a work slave for more than 10 years and got nowhere so yeah, “hard work” is extremely subjective), easy grades (remember, so many breakthroughs came after their time so younger kiddies have to learn a whole lot more garbage in school), basically they had to struggle less than younger people have to do right now because there weren’t as many people they have to compete with. 

Don’t expect boomers to ever feel your pain. I mean, if the tried and tested formula worked for them, they cannot see past the idea that it just doesn’t work for you. They will never accept the fact that you can see all the flaws and holes in the system, they were simply conditioned to believe that what they learned worked for them, therefore what they did was right and you should just suck it up like they did. It will never occur to them that you were just being your honest self, that you wanted something that aligns more with high-vibrational energies like REAL teamwork, emotional support, caring for the well-being of others, stuff that they never had to contend to because they were all cut-throat and had to be selfish AF when they were your age. They would blame dead-tired folks like us as lazy, unproductive, haven’t worked hard enough (with all your MS degrees and PhD’s and hundreds of seminars and congresses and certifications and competitions that you undertook) and all that downplaying yadah-yadah even if the only thing you haven’t done literally is to sell your soul to the devil just to get a measly raise. The system failed you tremendously even though you followed what your boomer parents told you to do, you did your best to live the most honest and straight path you could ever do, and yet you still didn’t get anywhere while the unscrupulous people were rolling in the deep by passing through all the loopholes in the system. This is something that boomer parents will never, ever understand and is something that we, as spiritually aware and awakened people must come to terms with and be open to accept.

Of course, don’t get me wrong. I am not shunning the idea of having a great, easy and abundant life. I have been doing my best to get to that point. I mean, yeah, sure it would be nice to have some food everyday, a house to live in, maybe feel a bit better than scraping each and every day, not get judged by other people, but honestly, once you start falling into the rabbit hole of waking up to what reality really is (spoiler alert: it’s not what you were told it would be, because you already tried EVERYTHING and nothing just worked out for you) it just makes even more nonsensical. These vague ideals of what happiness truly is (for these boomers) just aren’t exactly worth expending any energy into. Besides, based on my own experiences, no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to please everyone there are always a lot of people, including my own parents who just have so many negative things to say about me, so why even bother lol. SO I just gave up. I let them do whatever they want, I mean, it’s not like I have any good reputation left anyway. Besides, if I DO decide to show who I truly am, I just let my output and my work speak for myself. Whoever deems it ok can judge me however they would like it to be judged. It’s not like I never had issues like this before. And I have been so used to doing things on my own and not exactly relying much on other people so this is pretty much like my second skin. Being happy in it, gaining confidence, and ultimately using it to shield myself from the negative stuff the rest of the world throws at me is what I do a lot of.

Of course, it wasn’t always this way. I mean, as a kid I just couldn’t stand the idea of having to grow up at the speed of light because the parents aren’t exactly being parents. Most, if not all of the boomer parents out there, including my own have been hard pressed to do what they want in order to get ahead in their lives. No holds barred, no morality concerns, the most important thing is getting the results they want. Always be on top. Always succeed. Being Ok with failure is for losers. Zero cares on how the processes have been done, as long as they have their preferred outcome. I cannot stress how RESULTS are extremely important, alongside perfection at all costs. Certificates, awards, merits are things that are very important to boomers because they signify a sense of aptitude. Even if those credentials were all fake. Or even superficial. But that’s what they deem important. I can’t even tell you how many certificates, awards, trophies, all that stuff that my parents accomplished are here in our home, and yet you can count how many family pictures there are in here. Spoiler alert, my right hand has more fingers than we have family pictures here. It’s pretty sad, but I could safely say that for my boomer parents, it is very clear to me what their priorities in life were, and still are. And that’s something that I have been having a hard time moving past from, but I am doing my best to heal from that. It’s a deep wound, but I want to believe that I am going to be OK. Of course, because everything that stems from childhood is very hard to remove and is quite painful to do so, especially without any form of mental health practitioner aid, and, well, it’s an uphill struggle for everyone.

As a boomer’s kid, the very thing I could remember since childhood was doing a lot of stuff by myself, learning to do stuff on my own. We basically live and breathe DIY, so living by ourselves typically pose no problem. A whole bunch of us Pluto in Scorpio boomers’ kids had to typically raise ourselves, on our own, like self-raising flour lol but no, really, like we have to take care of ourselves a lot. No internet back then, phones were but a luxury and so were Cable TVs and gaming consoles, encyclopedias and other sources of information were limited to libraries (unless your family was rich enough to buy the latest set). Everything we learned, we learn through trial and error. No manuals,little to no instruction guides, no walkthroughs nor playthroughs, no cliffnotes. Not enough adult supervision. We just play outside with our peers, or on our own. Because the boomer parents are always out and about, chasing their careers, making a name for themselves, earning the cash they want so they can go out and take vacation breaks, buy the house and car that will make others envy them, that sort of stuff. 24/7 non-stop work because no work equals no pay and no pay equals less money to pay for loans, and less money to enjoy. This also means that no quality time to spend with kids, or get to know them, every interaction just consists of shallow stuff like how was school, did you get top grades, you’re not doing hard enough, stuff like that. Pretty shallow, if there even has any kind of interaction. Most of the time, they bring home extra work, so good luck getting some form of help with school. Of course, again, I am basing these on my own experiences, so you might wanna take a look at your own life experiences and compare them, see what makes sense aka what resonates.

For me, what I find really hard and painful is that I just cannot connect with my parents. And they have no intention of connecting with me in any way, shape or form. I have always been very keen and vocal on what I want, what I need, why I hate things, why I love things, why I hate getting hugs and kisses from my boomer parents’ friends, how I get bullied at school or elsewhere everyday, and why for some reason I could strongly feel the hidden intent of everybody, which is why I hate going out in public as well. Of course, telling these things to boomer parents can be a source of nightmares, because they would simply tell you that YOU ARE WRONG. Period. No questions asked. THEIR WORDS ARE AUTHORITY. Because for boomer parents, their children are just EXTENSIONS  OF THEMSELVES, and THUS THESE CHILDREN HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT TO EXPRESS ANY OPINIONS THAT DIFFER FROM THEIR OWN BECAUSE THEY ARE DEEMED INCAPABLE OF THINKING for THEMSELVES. Basically boomer parents assume that their children will always agree with them, thus bypassing the need to confirm and verify their actual wants and needs, even if in reality the children have actually very opposing and differing ideas. Hence the boomer parent tagline “I KNOW YOU MORE THAN YOU KNOW YOURSELF” comes to mind. If the boomer parent does actually receive very, very differing and even polarized opinions from their children because they kept assuming that they know what the kids want or know, THESE people will always find a way to tell you that what you feel, what you hear, what you know ARE ALL WRONG. They will always tell you that YOU HAVE NO EXPERIENCES IN LIFE SO DON’T EVEN BOTHER TELLING THEM THINGS THAT THEY WILL NEVER AGREE ON. Everything that they know is fixed and anything that contradicts their knowledge is JUST WRONG. Yep. Even more so if your parents are teachers, and because they teach other people and have high authority over them, they have grown accustomed to the identity of just being accepted without any complaints or dissention. A really horrible combo when you’re a genetically rebellious kid and your parents are boomers. What’s even more ironic is that they’re always out when you need people in your life, so you go to whoever is available to help you, thus you forge better connections outside your home, and in turn you absorb the ideologies of other people, because they make sense to you a whole lot more than what your boomer parents believe in. And yet they would and will always dare tell you that you’re basically not their child because you think so very differently from them. lol the irony is never lost on me. I find it usually funny when I exercise my Gemini detachments but when I fall into my Cancer abyss (it sucks to be a Cancer Venus) I just get all downtrodden and yeah, waterworks spill out. I had the cursed fate of having academic people as my boomer parents so I really had zero chances of being heard and understood. Even now. So in the end, why even bother?

IF you ask me, it’s because of the social conditioning of LOVING YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS EVEN IF THEY DON’T LOVE YOU BACK, AND DO NOT SUPPORT YOU NOR YOUR BEST INTERESTS is a very, very strong factor. Never mind the toxicity of relationships, I mean, those toxic relationships were very well-forged during childhood, so those things become quite normal, even if they should never even be to begin with. That is something that I have seen not just with myself but with a lot of people. People who keep putting up with jerks. People who end up in dead-end jobs and seeing the light in their eyes slowly die. Even worse, people who got hurt so much by others that they literally turn into the very thing that hurt them the most. It’s just so painful to see all of these, all because of the skewed ideals that FAMILIES SHOULD STICK TOGETHER THROUGH EVERYTHING. ALWAYS SUPPORT YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS, even if they do you wrong. Even if they treat you like dirt. Even if they just suck the life out of you. Even if they just use you as an emotional crutch. Even if they don’t see you for who you are. Even if you mean nothing more than a tax break to them. 

I apologize for sounding like a ranting, ungrateful lunatic but I just had to let that out.I just feel so dead inside just typing all of those up, because to be honest, I got a lot more moral support from a random dude that I chatted with and never remembered the identity of ever again, than my own kin. Honestly, I’m about to turn into my mid-30s by 2020 and yet I still have to deal with these so much issues from my past while still doing my best to live and even thrive on this 3-dimensional realm, and for me, having to look at what screwed me up while NOT PUTTING BLAME on my boomer parents have been the most taxing thing I had to do since trying to win even an ounce of their affection way, way back. I am literally one heartstring away from giving up. I have been trying to see the light and to be honest, I can’t right now. What bothers me even more is that a lot of the spiritual community posts, articles, and videos kept invalidating the shitty stuff that happened to me when I was a lot younger, and the phrases that say “That is for the highest good, all are one, we are all from Source, everything is for the expansion of the Creator” seriously if I’m not in the best mood and my friendly demons have been running amok in my head because I haven’t played with them for a while, I would shun these posts and think that I would very much want to shove them all down in a tight box and throw that into an exploding volcano like seriously I don’t need this kind of crap right now. 

So if you’re in that phase right now, don’t worry, I got your back, you’re not going crazy, what you feel is valid because feelings rarely lie, if they ever do. You are beautiful, handsome, wonderful and awesome, and what you feel is not what you are. It’s OK to fray, as long as to your true self, you stay.

Well I hope that affirmation above calmed you down.

To sum up the boomer issue post:

This is mostly a post for the people who have been swimming upstream because the world we live in has really gone down to the dogs. Nothing makes sense and despite being silenced we strive to make ourselves heard and be known. For typical renegades and rebels, having issues with authority is one of their key themes in life, and in all honesty this can actually break them. Even just having them heard would mean a lot, but if you have boomer parents, well you’re better off signing up to go to Mars, you have better chances with that. This is because most of the boomer parents or even authority figures in general are not the kind of people that would readily give in to others that disagree with them, or even want to work with other people by sharing the space, the power, and the control. They likely see this as a threat to everything that they have done in the past, and as such, anyone and anything that strongly opposes their beliefs will ultimately end up getting crashed and burned, with no questions asked. Unless you vagrantly manipulate them by stoking their fragile ego like sucking up to them and agreeing with them all the time. They’re not that impenetrable as they want you to believe, but then again, why would you even use such low-vibrational tactics when you can just move on from them altogether. Their time on earth is pretty much near the end of their rope so just let them have their moment, and focus on yourself instead. Lay your foundation of living your best and highest-vibrational life. Or at the very least, just living an honest life and living your inner truth, guided by your highest and true Self. The joy you will find from that will be so much more worth it, so I support you in that goal.

Thank you so very much for stopping by, and reading this very long, personal post, and I pray that you find the healing you seek.

With love and hugs from Source above, I remain your Soul sibling,

Mikazuki

[scriptflorist]

i have utterly no clue what your rant post is talking about?? i see nothing wrong with tumblr.

Hey Nonny,

God I wish I was this oblivious, just… it’s such a mess what’s going on. Okay so for anyone who’s missed the complete fuckery that this hellsite unleashed on the 17th I’m gonna do a recap to my best ability.

What you may have heard Nonny is that Tumblr banned basically all nsfw content since the 17th which in and of itself is something I could spend a post discussing we you but I won’t because that’s not what this blog is about and quite frankly I don’t want to raise this debate. So we just have to accept the fact this happened. Now what this was supposed to do theoretically was deal with the porn bots… in all well-intentioned theory, it maybe did, but fact is that it didn’t. Instead what we got is a botched algorithm running an awfully basic script that can’t distinguish raw chicken from a hand from nude bodies from vases and rocks. If it weren’t so sad I’d say the most hilarious example is that staff made a post about the new guidelines and that one got flagged (so not even text posts are safe) and then later staff made another post which included example of allowed nudity (art stuff and the likes) and goodness knows that of course also got flagged. Which… honestly, I would laugh if the matter wasn’t so serious.

Nsfw blogs have been getting flagged, their theme returned to default and their icons pixilated. People who have been posting nsfw to any kind of degree have been shadowbanned, which just means they become unsearchable and unless you already follow them you can’t ever find them now. The problem now is that this affects a lot and I mean to an almost ridiculous degree (I could laugh… I could…) of blogs which are being unjustly flagged. A lot of the content isn’t even nsfw, it’s food, it’s art of clothed people, it’s statues, it’s fossils, it’s lgbt content galore, it’s stupid and frustrating and infuriating. It’s this hellsite trying desperately to convince that one company with the edible logo to let them back into their app store at the cost of their user base. There is the ability to put posts in content appeal if they have been falsely flagged but it’s already disappearing for some people and I saw a post of someone who contacted staff over that only to get the reply that they should appeal their posts which… uuuugghhhh. Not to mention the whole female-presenting-nipples débâcle which I don’t have the energy to get into tbh.

There is a German saying that I’d like to use but it doesn’t have counterpart in English so roughly translated I’d like to say Lord throw us some brains… cause God knows there ain’t any here.

If you haven’t been witnessing this mess first hand it might seem like people are blowing it out of proportion, but here’s the deal: Tumblr doesn’t care. Staff doesn’t act because out of care for its userbase. They’re actively throwing us under the bus in a futile attempt to brand this mess of a code as family friendly so they can attempt to make money off of it. They couldn’t care less who makes it out of this alive, metaphorically speaking. They are making it impossible for people to view their own banned posts. Nazis are easier to find on this platform than porn as of the 17th and that’s the cold hard truth. Needless to say, people are rightfully angry about this.

If you haven’t seen any of it on your dash you can… count yourself incredibly lucky. From what I understand the main culprits next to yahoo and the staff of this hellsite are sesta-fosta of which I understand very little except from being very, very bad. And this has probably not been a very good recap of what’s happened but I’m sick and my body is treating the infection with a good measure of “let’s see who burns first” so I’m not capable of the most coherent strings of thought.

And please everyone, I don’t want a great big argument, this is not a topic up for discussion, this is just the delivery of information because somebody asked.

– Mod Jana

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This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[lupinology]

DISCLAIMER: ANTI-SNAPE POST

IT’S ALSO REALLY LONG (SORRY MY DUDES)

Severus Snape grew up in an abusive household, which is something no child should have to go through. Until he met Lily Evans, he had little to no happiness in his life. When they did meet, however, he finally felt like he had something to live for. He had a friend, at long last. He told her all about the Wizarding World, and magic, and Hogwarts… He even got to go to Hogwarts with her - but then they were Sorted into different Houses. Not just any Houses either: Gryffindor and Slytherin, known rivals. Snape immediately felt part of Lily slip away from him.

Regardless of this, they remained friends and also became friends with people from their own Houses. James Potter, from Gryffindor, took a particular interest in Lily. His feelings were completely unrequited, as she paid him no attention. James and his best friend, Sirius Black, decided to pick on Snape and taunt him about his greasy hair and hooked nose. Lily and Snape did their best to ignore the stupid Gryffindor boys, thinking it would pass soon, but it did not.

In no way is the Marauders’ behaviour towards Snape - or anyone else they bullied - excusable. There is never a time where bullying can be excused. ‘They’re just boys’ or ‘it was just a joke’ are pathetic, primary school-level excuses.

Throughout all their years at Hogwarts, James and Sirius - along with Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew - bullied Snape, the teasing becoming worse and worse each year. James relentlessly pursued Lily, but her opinion of him merely decreased even more with every insult directed at her best friend.

Snape was not completely innocent, however. He had become good friends with some of the more ‘dodgy’ Slytherins and Lily was worried that he might become a Voldemort supporter like his friends. She warned him of this but he told her not to worry. She was wary of how his behaviour towards her had changed in the more recent years.

In fifth-year, Snape made the mistake of calling Lily a Mudblood. He immediately realised what he had done and tried to fix it, but this had been the final nudge for Lily, and she cut all ties with him. He was left with the Slytherins, wanting more than anything to undo his error.

Snape called her this in the spur of the moment and instantly regretted it. It does not change the fact that it is an extremely insulting and negative term, similar to the ‘N word’ when used by non-black people in modern day. He could have possibly made up for it, had it been the first thing he had done wrong, but because it was something that proceeded a long list of instances where he had ditched Lily or said something that sounded like something a Voldemort supporter would say, Lily lost her patience and stopped having any contact with him.

Two years later, Lily finally agreed to go out with James, and they later married. Snape - whom Lily had still not spoken to - grew infuriated from this rejection and decided to join a terrorist group who aimed to wipe out Lily’s kind (Muggleborns). As you do.

I can imagine that losing your best friend/the love of your life to the person who had incessantly bullied you for years was not easy. I can sympathise with Snape and take a guess that he would have been feeling hurt and agitated. However, this does not justify that joining the Death Eaters was the right thing to do. Telling someone to move on is a lot easier than actually being able to do it, and I think it’s pretty clear that Snape found it particularly difficult. I still don’t see how joining Voldemort was the right way to deal with this rejection.

When the prophecy is made that a boy born at the end of July will bring Voldemort to his end, Snape sets out to ensure that Voldemort does not harm Lily when he goes to kill Lily and James’s son, Harry. Snape does not, however, say anything about James (unsurprisingly) or Harry himself.

I think that if Snape had really loved Lily, he would have tried to persuade Voldemort that it was another baby born at the end of July. I don’t think letting the ‘love of your life’s’ child be murdered by an evil wizard is an act of bravery or love.

Also, letting an infant be potentially murdered? Downright disgusting.

After Lily is killed by Voldemort, Snape is stricken with grief and agrees to become a double agent for Dumbledore.

Would Snape have gone back to ‘the good side’ if it hadn’t been for Lily’s death? Probably not, given his behaviour up to this point. We can never know for sure, as Lily canonically did indeed die, but if you look at Snape’s character and his traits, you don’t see him as the kind of man to suddenly go back to ‘the good side’ and start working as a double agent - which is a seriously risky business - for no reason.

I understand that losing the apparent love of your life is very sad! He didn’t get together with her after years of trying to and never gets to redeem himself or make up with her, which is really sad, and I can completely sympathise with this. Even after losing her and having to watch her marry James, it is still really sad. HOWEVER (and I hate to put this however here but it’s me so I’m going to anyway) this does not mean that he can stay hung up on her death for a further seventeen years and take it out on innocent schoolchildren who have done nothing wrong (hence, innocent).

Skip forward to when Lily’s son starts at Hogwarts. On Harry’s very first day, Snape is already abusing his position of power.

He asks Harry - a boy who has grown up in the Muggle world and only recently been made aware of the existence of the Wizarding community - very difficult questions and then mocks him when he doesn’t know the answer to them.

One might argue that Hermione was also brought up by Muggles and had only recently been enlightened on the existence of the Wizarding World, but Harry and Hermione are different people. Hermione probably went to Diagon Alley the day after she got her letter and bought every book on the magical world she saw (which was probably nearly every book in the shop).

While Snape is a teacher during Harry’s time at Hogwarts, he is significantly abusive towards numerous Gryffindor students and has a clear bias towards his own House (Slytherin), which is something the other Heads of Houses do not possess (the bias, I mean).

The other Heads of Houses are fair and just, and do not let their personal loyalties affect the number of points they give/deduct. An example of this is when Professor McGonagall takes points off of members of her own House (Gryffindor) for their inexcusable behaviour. Snape deducts points from Gryffindor purely because he has a bad past with the House, seeing as it was the place where the boys who bullied him belonged, and the place where one of said boys’ son belonged; the love of his life’s son belonged.

Snape’s bias towards Slytherin led to him revealing a very personal secret of Remus Lupin’s to the entirety of Slytherin House. Revealing information like that is threatening to Lupin’s career and also highly unprofessional for Snape himself. It could be classified as gossip. And why does he tell Lupin’s secret? Because Lupin had participated in the teasing of Snape during their years at Hogwarts. Let go of those grudges, Snape, and grow up. Granted, his discovery of Remus’s lycanthropy was probably quite mentally harrowing, but he still should not reveal such information to his students.

I can understand that Snape would have been upset after Lily died, since she had been the one to ‘save him’ before they started at Hogwarts, and also because he claimed to love Lily, but I think that, at this point (thirteen years after her death) he should have moved on. It doesn’t look like he has even tried to find closure.

Snape is horrible to Harry, mainly because Harry reminds him of James, which is a completely pathetic reason to deliberately pick on a child who has done nothing wrong. Yes, it isn’t nice to be bullied at school, but this is not a reason to take it out on your bully’s innocent child.

Snape also bullies Neville Longbottom, who was another boy born at the end of July; the Other Chosen One. Snape targets him because if Voldemort had chosen Neville instead of Harry, Lily would probably still be alive. This is a horrible reason to abuse a child. It wasn’t Neville who decided to go after the Potters; Neville couldn’t help what Voldemort chose to do. I mean, Snape once threatened to kill Neville’s toad because Neville’s potion had gone horribly wrong and would poison Trevor (the toad) it was so bad. That kind of threat is just borderline horrific.

While we’re on the subject of Neville Longbottom, let’s talk about how his parents were tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange to the point of insanity. You’d think that Bellatrix or someone using the Cruciatus Curse would be Neville’s greatest fear, but no: his Potions professor was his greatest fear, his Boggart. That’s how poorly Snape mistreated these children. He completely abused his position of power.

When Draco Malfoy curses Hermione and causes her front teeth - which she is already self-conscious about - to grow excessively, Snape looks at her and says “I see no difference” which is an absolutely horrible and inexcusable thing to do to a fifteen-year-old girl who has never done anything that would be worthy of this kind of response. Snape calls Hermione “an insufferable know-it-all” and never chooses her in class when she quite clearly knows the answer to anything he asks.

Some people would argue that he picked on these kids so that Voldemort wouldn’t question his loyalties, but I don’t think Snape had to be quite so aggressive with them. He didn’t have to ignore a girl who obviously knew the answer when nobody else did to prove that he was a good Death Eater, did he?

In 1995/6, Snape mocks Sirius because Sirius cannot leave Grimmauld Place.

This behaviour is childish, immature and very unprofessional. I understand that Sirius was a large part of bullying Snape during their years at Hogwarts, which was inexcusable, as I have said before, but if Snape had moved on and not clung on so keenly to the past, he might have had a more pleasant adult life.

When he is dying, he asks Harry to look him in the eyes so that he could see Lily’s eyes.

This is just really creepy. It doesn’t matter if you loved someone when you were fifteen - you have to learn to find closure and move on. Especially when they marry someone else! Nothing was going to happen between him and Lily, especially when she was killed by Voldemort. I understand that it can be seen as ‘sweet’ that he held onto her for so long and never had eyes for anyone else, but for me I think it’s just him being unable to move on and being stuck in the past and obsessing over a dead woman.

Lots of Snape apologists (try to) use the argument that says “Of course Snape was mean! Just look at his childhood and schooldays! Who wouldn’t be a horrible person after all of that?”

First of all, yes, Snape did indeed suffer a terrible childhood. He was abused at home by his father and was not properly cared for by his parents; he did not receive the love and attention a child at those ages should have received. There is nothing that can justify this. I feel sorry for Snape when it comes to his childhood (before Hogwarts) because he had no friends and had no support from his family, therefore he was isolated and alone, which is a horrible fate for someone so young.

His schooldays were spent pining after his best friend and/or hanging out with some very dodgy people. I’m not going to criticise him for pining after Lily, as he was a teenage boy and such behaviour is expected. However, he knew full well that the boys he chose to be friends with were troublesome and supporters of the Dark Arts, but he did not think to stay away from them. These boys’ influence on him is one of the main reasons as to why he eventually calls Lily a Mudblood, of all things. The boys were prejudiced against Muggleborns and would go on to become Death Eaters later in their lives. He could have chosen to stop hanging out with these boys, which would have made a significant difference in who he was as a person later on in his own life.

Saying ‘who wouldn’t be a horrible person’ after growing up in an abusive household and suffering from bullies at school is invalid, and Harry Potter is a perfect example of why. He was raised by magic-hating Muggles who forced him to live in a cupboard for twelve years and sparingly fed him. He did not receive any love or the proper attention a child should, and probably didn’t hug anyone until Hagrid (and hugs are great, so). Then when he starts at Hogwarts - which he believes is somewhere he can finally be treated like a real person - he is incessantly bullied by his professor purely mainly because he looks like his father (although he didn’t learn this for a few years, and so was under the impression that his teacher hated him for no reason). Yet after seventeen years of abusive guardians and (during five of those years) a fascist Potions professor who was stuck in the past, Harry Potter is still a wonderful person.

To conclude I would like to say that I just don’t think Snape deserved the redemption JKR gave him, and in the end it doesn’t matter to me whether she intended for him to redeem himself or not, because I don’t think it was good enough. I think Snape is a brilliantly written character: very complex and extremely well thought-out, and Alan Rickman portrays him absolutely beautifully.  Having said that, I hate him with every fibre of my being and hope he is burning in hell.

TYSM for taking the time to read this and I apologise once again for the length. This is just over four pages, so well done for powering through that. Please reblog to promote awarenesss that this greasy slimeball did not deserve his “redemption”!

[depressionintechnicolor]

It's about time this cat came out of the bag. Or more accurately, this pussy took the paper bag off. I keep pushing the pronouns of "you" and "her" and "she" off like you or her or anyone are a planet keeping me in orbit. But in reality, I'm merely trying to strangulate myself with these tetherings. Of course, I couldn't hit a target if the centre of my brain was a bullseye. They say the pen is mightier than the spear, so a lobotomy with one is perfect use of this weapon. My existence is a disclaimer to my anthology and an apology to my past life. My apologies look like cold packs being applied onto something swollen, but feel like what evil had taken the warmth and deemed it stolen. I am an action figure that hasn't had the recall warning put out yet, even when there are innocent people choking on me, choking from me. I keep typing "you" as if I'm talking to someone else, but if I'm conversing with anyone it's the masses of people I've disappointed. The fact they look like me is merely coincidental. I inhale clouds of smoke, spit out lightning bolts, and conduce an inhumane amount of electricity into people. I also blink out tears but that is done away with like the light showers I take in trying to feel clean. I'm not an addict to anything except that which accelerates my regression which is love in places hate should fall to. I hate you partially because you resemble me and we resemble each other and I remember this sentence started off directed at someone else but did ricochet off every empty glare inside of myself and now I am more two dimensional reflection than three dimensional anything. My feelings are carbon copies of duplicates of doppelgangers of look-alikes in other people. I used to believe life fit between a television set, until I learned that means putting myself in situations I don't want to be in. Unconsciousness of how awake to my misery I am lies in how I lie awake planning and positioning trivialities of something that won't be worth a second look in a million seconds, let alone a million years. Inconsequential, incorrect, insubordinate, infuriating, indescribable idiot. I am finally taking ownership of the failures I have found, become, and lived as instead of whatever portrayal lives on out there. In here, I am tumbling in and out dreams, stumbling into shallow graves of memories, and buried in how much I have to take and misplace and disgrace and rearrange and discombobulate and disassemble. I'm too scared to die, so I let my sadness chop me down, inch by painless inch, instead. Last year, I was a visage of tears hiding a face. This year, that face is turned inside out so someone can see my inner workings.

If you think I'd be fulfilled living in a hole, you wouldn't be far from the truth. If you think I can start a fire inside of myself, there aren't many matches left and I'm ready to start burning down, whatever that means. I'm sickly and frail and break a lot easier than you could ever think. The very notion that I'm supposed to be something great is just another benchmark I'm a little too short to touch. If my skin were any thinner, a papercut would prove fatal. If my heart were any softer, it would cease to hold any form and slither around inside of me. If my mind were any weaker, I wouldn't have said a word.

[willardoftuffelton]

10 reasons achilleanaspie is better than me.

Ok, now i know i often say that i am the greatest man of all time because of course i would, i’m Willard of Tuffelton, the sexual Catherine Wheel. Anything i write, say or do is pure perfection but it would be a lie if i where to say that i was the undisputed champion in all areas. Achilleanaspie is very much my subordinate but even he holds a few footholds in life’s cliff face that i shall never grasp. so through gritted teeth and a force that at any moment could break the keys on my laptop, here are 10 reasons achilleanaspie is better than THE GREAT WILLARD OF TUFFELTON.

1. he knows way more fun and interesting facts than i do which is very much my own fault, the time i should have spent watching QI or on the internet locked in my room until i became dehydrated from weeping at the god damn lonesomeness of it all, i spent drinking alcohol, reading books, conversing with friends or actually kissing actual real people on the mouth. still achilleanaspie knows a frankly insulting amount of facts which more than makes up for the fact that if he goes outside in high winds then he will be lost forever.

2. achilleanaspie is far smaller than i am. though this may sound like i am gloating, i sometimes very much envy his small stature. it allows him to curl up like Samus Aran and hide in the most frustrating places. the man has never lost a game of hide and seek whereas i am usually the first caught, just another example of my muscular and bulky stature being both a blessing and a curse.

3. he will most definitely live longer than i will. achilleanaspie is astonishingly young, the man has a smooth hairless chin and an enlarged head of a boy in reception. despite it being scientifically impossible, i am certain that he is ageing backwards like some sought of sad Benjamin Button. the quality of his essay writing in psychology certainly points to this as they have only recently been written in crayon. not to mention that the man will be getting ID’d at pubs until his lat 50′s, maybe his early 60′s. still, he’ll most likely outlive me, a God, so it’s something to be proud of.

4. the man has got a very nice collection of colourful wristbands and socks; it’s really impressive guy’s, he’s got blue ones, green ones and even orange ones which are achilleanaspie’s favourite because orange is his favourite colour because he really likes oranges. yeah he even sleeps in them, so i’m told, after his evening ritual of dinner, potato faces and peas, his fit mum will then wash him in the bath then puts the wristbands and socks over him until he looks like the Michelin Man at a pride march. then he’ll sleep for ten hours dreaming about caterpillars and lemonade.

5. His fit mum. Mrs. achilleanaspie is a lovely woman and i will not hear a bad word said against her. shes got the mind of a great play-write or philosopher, the mouth of a really eager Hetty the Hover on cocaine and the body of an Olympic gold medallist with three consecutive wins in sexual tobogganing and something to do with running. we laughed together, after achilleanaspie had gone to bed at 7:30, i poured her a glass of crisp white wine, i put on some Marvin Gay and we made love on a pill of his awful socks.

6. achilleanaspie is a sweet little chirrup, often his optimism and amazing gift for hope has put me in a position of sheer jealousy. i once told him that i hated him and the only if he was on fire then i would help him because i wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to piss on him. after this he just handed me a little note that said i was his best friend and then went off to play hopscotch. heart warming stuff.

7. his hair is a baffling discovery that goes beyond weird and into scientific paradox. the greatest minds of our time are truly befuddled on how a man could spend so much time and effort on to his hair and it still looks like he’s put no time or effort into his hair. even the pope has spoken about this, “ achilleanaspie’s hair”, said in his native Spanish, “so much bleach and product it contains, yet it is as if he has only recently woken from slumber. Truly this is the devil’s hair.”

8. he makes everyone at college feel older and more wise. achilleanaspie is younger than most insects and often says things like, “who was JFK”, “i’ve never heard of Star Wars, is that the new All Time Low album.” and “me need a poopy.” now whilst this sounds infuriating, every time he blurts out such nonsense it makes us all feel the wiser.

9. the man has a tumblr army and i’m scared, like i am pretty sure this list is going to kill me. as we all know this land is a wretched Mordor of a place, full of hordes of locus that could strip a whale to its bare bone in a matter of seconds and achilleanaspie is their baby lord. tumblr is how achilleanaspie will one day take over the world.

10. he is our walking organ farm. at college me and achilleanaspie have a small group of, lets say friends, and we are all dangerously broken individuals. after all, my #creativitythroughacoholabuse shit won’t last long before my liver gives out, not to mention Dan will need a new kidney after his original set are destroyed due to a backed up amount of bile, or the blood transfusion Peter will need after he tells the wrong person to jump out of a window and they kick the shit out of him. thankfully achilleanaspie’s organs a completely without blemishes.

small disclaimer, this all out of fun and i genuinely love the prepubescent sycophant. 

[liebeztod]

cheap sex and sad films

Once again, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy inhabits the pit of my stomach. There’s something about your best friends being in love--and happily so--that really puts a sour spin in every sunset and song. Suddenly... it’s hard to sleep again... even when fatigue weighs at my eyes with the day’s worries. My irrationality serves as the best caffeine; keeping me up at night with its usual doldrum anxieties... 

Tonight is no different, as I mull over the same insecurities while listening to my own infamous playlist chock-full of songs of self-loathing and/or melancholy. 

How do I always end up here? Well, I have wonderful friends, and of course, I want them to be happy. But there was a comfort in not being single alone... what I mean by that is... since Nat and her boyfriend broke up earlier last year, suddenly it was nice not to be the odd one out. However when she started dating again, and we all got together for brunch with she and Juby and their beaux--I the only one without having brought “someone”--suddenly the empty chair to my side felt very noticeable.

Not to mention the comments made a little while later... when Juby’s boyfriend mentioned how he felt sorry for me when I didn’t have anyone to bring to functions, and how setting me up with some mutual friend was the best possible option... suddenly I felt like that Old Maid I always read about in books like Gone With The Wind or Pride & Prejudice... this undesirable old hag who needs her matches made for her... 

The thing is, it’s a thought that crosses my mind more often than naught ever since it’s been brought up. I think about it all the time. And I mean this... all the time. I have conversations with myself daily... imaginary, silly discussions about whether it’s an inability of mine to find a SO, or a deep desire of just not wanting one in general.

I entertain both notions.

On the one hand, where’s the good in having a boyfriend? When I think of the men I have been with, or the type of men I attract, I am... disgusted. In my last physical venture,  I felt sick to the stomach. Not that the guy I slept with was absurdly unattractive or a bad person, but because I knew I was. Because he mentioned dating, and I was just in it for the meaningless sex.

And then there are all the other men I’ve been with (excluding my darling Martin from Munich) who all had to make some kind of disclosure about my weight... like “you’re pretty for a chubby girl,” or “I like bigger girls” yadda yadda. As someone who still struggles with the comments made to me in my adolescence about my weight, it’s still very hard for me to unlearn the “conventional” body ideals I grew up coveting; and with friends like I had in high school, the jokes made at my behest have made their mark rather permanent.

And then there are the moments when, if I do want to engage a man in what my generation calls “talking,” I am put off by the “busy” trope. Of course, men are always busy when *I* want to start a conversation, or they are short--can’t be bothered. But when the night hours are in session, when a guy has a boner he wants to rub out with the help of my textual expertise, then suddenly they’re Charles Dickens, getting paid by the mouthful.

They’re all the same.

Which brings me to my next point: has my loss of desire in the opposite sex evolved into a straight-up inability on my part to find any necessity in finding an SO? Suddenly I find that I am no longer in want of the occasional hookup, nor do I get the itch to download a dating app, or talk to random men when going out with my friends.

In the now WEEKLY events that my friends suggest introducing me to someone, I panic. I become drenched in dread, and talk my way out of it. Truly. 

There is something about the incessant dredge that is “talking” to a guy that feels like I’m going through an embalming process; like when I have to sit through a conversation that sounds like ALL the others, it’s as though my blood is being drained from my body. Every attempt a man makes at flirting makes me roll my eyes; every winky emoji boils my blood, and any indication of “kicking it” or “chilling” is all it takes for me to put down the phone and quit replying.

And I am just tired. When my friends find their weekly opportunity to pitch a new beau to me, it is hard to respectfully decline. Each man I have encountered all seem to be working from the same script... the same stupid jokes they think I’ll find funny... the same nighttime schedule which prompts them to only text me at night when they’re horny and bored.

Love has eluded me. 

Life has dealt me the blow of meeting the love of my life at the premature age of 13. It has also added insult to injury by putting him on a completely different continent, ensuring a personal meeting ten years after the fact, and once again separating us by the sole reality of different nationalities, families and incompatibilities. 

I think... what did I do in my past life to deserve this? I am being punished for something I cannot remember doing, and to make it worse, I am very much alone in this lifetime sentence of unrequited love.

If I am the villain, and it sure feels that way, I wonder if “tragedy” is inapplicable to my plight. I feel neurotic at times, feeling the way I do for someone I spent a whole of perhaps 30 hours with. But when I psychoanalyze the phone conversations, and try to find hidden meanings in what he says... I chock it up to us being one in the same; beating around the bush, being afraid of saying what we mean, etc., etc.

But, in my momentary laps of sanity, like this moment, I know I am alone in this. P does not work from the same script as all the other idiot men I have let try to woo me; however it is similar, in that he has his own schedule. And similar to my own script, he ignores me, as I ignore the other men.

It is infuriating as much as it is deflating when my text messages and calls to P go unanswered. Especially so this week... now that Nat has found someone new, it feels a bit like salt in the wound; of course, I am happy she is happy. But naturally, there is a envy I do not know how to detach myself from. 

It’s one thing to be kept up by my sorrows. But to hear her gush about her insomnia brought on by her happiness and excitement of this new guy is... distressing to say the least.

There is a worry that this feeling will elude me indefinitely, as much as I want it, and as much as I have tried in the past to move on from P. My friends tell me I need to open up, and that I will find someone who is “great,” but hard as I try, I cannot see anything but a man’s ulterior motives, their insincerities, their comments about my weight, their disclosures and disclaimers.

I feel brash enough to say I feel trapped in my love for P; I am a prisoner of my own dissatisfaction for what life has dealt me, and because I am either in love with being sad, or just stupidly devoted for P, or both, I refuse to help myself.

And yet, like some caged bird staring out at other birds, flying free against the blue of the sky, I am jealous of it. Hearing Nat smitten by this new player has me so curious; when was the last time I felt butterflies? At what point did cynicism invade every fiber of my being? I would like to be like my friends who are excited after meeting a nice boy who wants to talk to them, and take them out. 

The butterflies in my stomach are lifeless, and are only revived after a word or a ring from P. And when a week or two passes by of not hearing from him, they die again, which is time’s way, I suppose.

The thing is... I do not find other men to be nice. And when they are, they are not. And I know I am not nice. And through my P-tinted glasses every suitor just looks like a poor substitution. And when the humiliation of being single gets to be too much, I will finally do just what I am most afraid of doing: settle. 

It is just hard going on three years of this accursed want for P, feelings that have only gotten stronger with the distance and time and the reality that I will most likely never see him again. In being denied the only person I have ever wanted, you would hope this makes me a better person but I doubt it can. 

In lieu of the the melancholy that keeps me up all night, I will reside in the memories where he felt attainable and hope they will suffice. 

[shiro-sensei-14]

Chapter Two: The love birds of Luna Nova

It has been several months since the first chapter. I am actually working on a long Fanfic (around 50 chapters) on another subject and this one is meant to be a short one. This chapter settles life at Luna Nova (an idyllic version that can be far from the original). There is no real drama, the complication should happen in the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Little Witch Academia.

v

The night had fallen on Luna Nova, Chariot was lying on her bed next to her partner who was caressing her hair and looking into her ruby eyes. Chariot was still blushing just thinking of what had just happened between them.

“Ney, Croix, that was not your first time, was it?” She asked timidly.

“Was it yours?” Asked the lavender-haired girl suddenly startled.

Chariot suddenly flustered and looked aside.

“ye.. yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You seemed so sure of yourself when you dragged me to your room that I thought … Oh dear I’m sorry, I…”

“Shhh… don’t say sorry when you made me so happy. I never imagined that it would go that far … but… when you started undressing me it all seemed so natural that I let you … do it.”

“Oh my sweetheart, I could have been more gentle, have taken more my time. Are you sure you are ok?”

“I promise! “

Croix held her tighter in her arms and kissed her forefront. She was still feeling bad not to have asked before. It was true that Chariot’s passionate kisses and caresses did not look like the ones of a virgin.

“You are quite experienced, aren’t you?”

Croix blushed a little and said shyly.

“Well I had a boy friend two years ago and a girlfriend last year. That’s not much of experience”

“A boy?”

“Why? Are you shocked? I fall for people not for a specific gender. He was my sempai, a very gifted boy in any field, Magic of course, but also IT and Sciences. I asked him to tutor me for IT and programming. Spending time together we discovered each other, I admired him and he liked the fact that I was quite advanced and skilled for my age. So one day our relation Sempai/ Kohai turned into something more romantic and later more… intimate.”

“I see. What happened?”

“Life; he transferred to another school in another city and we progressively lost contact. That was sad but I handled it. I then met a girl at the library. I always sat at the same place and so did she. One day she asked me about my readings. She was a nice girl, very attractive and quite racy. I liked that trait of her personality. She asked me out, at the end of our first date, she kissed me. I was attracted to her as well, so we became lovers. I was quite fond of her and she was terrific in bed. Sorry I should not say that.” Chariot nodded and encouraged her to go further. “But she was free as a bird and one day, I came earlier to school and surprised her wall pinning a freshman student. I was so shocked I could not say a word. She was kissing her furiously. That’s how it ended, I stopped returning her phone calls and we changed spots at the library to make sure not to bump into each other. I avoided her for weeks until one day when she caught me at the school gate. We had a terrible fight, I told her that I could not bear her unfaithfulness, she said “I am not gonna change for you” and that was it.”

“Gosh, that must have been hard.”

“Well, less than what it would have been if we had parted normally because of my transfer at Luna Nova. In a way, I was so mad at her that it disgusted me. I was over her much faster.”

“Yeah, but still…” said the red-haired pensively.

“And you, tell me a little bit about your past stories.”

“Me? … I fell once for a woman, she was around 28, long brown hair, green eyes, very smart and a great magician.

“Wow, 28! What happened?”

“Nothing, it was one sided… she was a teacher.”

“Here?”

“No…huh … at the elementary school I was 9”

Croix started laughing very loudly and Chariot made desperate moves to hush her. She was scared that somebody discovered her in her room after the curfew. Some students were assigned night patrols to avoid these kinds of situations.

“Stop! Hush now!” But Croix could not help laughing and was rolling on the bed. Chariot, infuriated, jumped on her, held her wrists and kissed her vigorously. That move surprised Croix so much that she stopped laughing at once and returned her kiss with the same intensity.

Early in the morning, Croix had sneaked out of Chariot’s room to reach hers. She headed to the bathroom and after a hot shower, she took her new uniform that had been delivered in the evening and put it on. She looked at herself in the mirror and observed the new Luna Nova’s student. This old fashioned uniform was closer to a cosplay costume than the regular school uniforms to which she was used. But she liked it anyway. She got out of her room and bowed to the other students she met in the corridor, she stopped by Chariot’s room to see if she was ready. To her surprise, she found her lover still in bed, with the alarm clock on the floor.

“Chariot! Get out of bed immediately.”

“Mmmm? Five more minutes please”

“It’s half past eight, I was about to pick you up for breakfast!”

“whhhhhaaaaaattt?” she screamed sitting suddenly in her bed.

“You are going to…” but Croix could not finish her sentence, she was almost shoved by the rushing girl. She got out of bed as a jack in the box, ran to the bathroom. Croix observed her amazed, it was as if she had four arms, pooring shampoo on her head while brushing her teeth with her left hand. Croix started laughing; that clumsy girl could somehow be quite dexterous when in panic. She handed her the towel and her uniform but had no idea where to find her underwear. Chariot ran out of the bathroom with the towel around her body, jumped on her bed to go faster and rushed to the drawer where her lingerie was hidden. Croix received the towel on the head while Chariot was putting on her panties and bra. She grabbed the uniform Croix  was still holding and in a few seconds she was dressed.

“Wow, have you ever thought of creating a quick change act in a circus or a cabaret, you did not even use magic.”

“He, he, it’s a matter of training.” Chariot said with a cunning smile. “8.40, we”ve got plenty of time for breakfast.”

“Heee? Ain’t you gonna dry your hair?”

“I never do that”

“That’s why…”

“why what?”

“Nothing” Croix understood then why Chariot’s hair looked so messy with rebel braids.

Their first class was biology. The teacher asked the students to pair up for the exercise. They had to observe  regurgitated bird pellets, dissect them and note what they had found in. Chariot was not at ease with the scalpel and Croix put her hand on hers to guide her. Chariot instantly blushed to the point her teacher got worried.

“Is there anything wrong Ms Du Nord?”

“Not at all, she’s doing just fine. If you want to take a look Ms Clark…” Croix answered as she wanted to avoid her partner to feel more embarrassed.

“Let’s see. Oh that’s very good. Go on like this. Good job.” And the teacher patted gently her student humid head; the sensation surprised her and she made such a face that Croix chuckled discreetly.

At the end of the class, they walked together in the corridor. Chariot felt the urge to grab her arm but Croix rejected her. She asked her to be more careful and not drive attention on them. They spent the next classes in their usual classroom. Chariot could not focus, the images of the night spent with Croix kept invading her mind. She could not wait for lunch break to be close to her beloved again.

But, when the bell rang, She did not have time to make a step towards her lover that she was surrounded by five or six girls of the class dragging her to share lunch with them. Croix sent a desperate look in Chariot’s direction but she also was taken in hostage by a bunch of fans. Some girls loved her magic tricks so much that they asked her as often as possible to play some for them.

Croix had already disappeared so that left Chariot with no other option. She used her wand and pronounced a magic spell. Golden glitters formed shapes above them and transformed into various animals. An antelope was hopping around the classroom when suddenly a lion rushed after it and a fantastic race of glitters marvelled the students for a long moment. Croix got back into the class at the precise moment when the lion made a jump to reach the antelope but missed it. The antelope then transformed into a dragon and spat fire of glitters to erase the whole scene. Chariot was burning with an inner fire, moving her arms harmoniously as a conductor would do to lead their orchestra. Croix felt a strong emotion to see her lover so skilled and with such a poetry in her Magic. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel it even more since she had joined her hands on it in admiration.

Chariot ended with fireworks of glitters and everybody applauded, even the Homeroom teacher who had just entered the class.

“If only you were as gifted in maths as in illusion spells Ms Du Nord…but congrats anyway that was beautiful.”

Chariot bowed and went back to her seat. She had not had time to eat with all that. She often used illusion as a pastime and lost track of time while practicing. Her stomach growled loudly while they were trying to solve a problem. Croix discreetly sent her a candy to calm her until the next break.

When the bell rang, Chariot opened her lunch bag and took a big bite of her club sandwich. That was the precise moment when Croix came to see her at her desk. Chariot with her mouth full like the one of a hamster was all but glamorous. Croix laughed at the vision and took the napkin to brush softly the corner of her lips. Chariot, red as a beet, almost choked and Croix tapped her back to help her. She handed her a bottle of water. Chariot drank a few sips and felt better.

“I just wanted to tell you that I loved your show; that was stupendous and very inspiring.” Croix said keeping her composure while the goofy girl in front of her amused her so much.

“Really, you liked it, that was just improvisation” she said blushing even more.

“Imagine with a real structure, a real story what we could do!”

“We?”  Interrogated Chariot.

“Ahem, I mean… you.” This time Croix was blushing too. They were soon interrupted by the class representative.

“Hurry up, it’s PE class now. Ms Meridies have you received you track suit and trainer shoes?

“Yes, I found everything in my room this mor… yesterday. I put them in the locker.”

“Good, see you then.” The class representative did not remark when Croix’s tongue twisted, that was a relief.

All the girls changed rapidly and gathered on the track field. The first exercise was to test their endurance. The teacher asked them to run nonstop for 20 minutes. Chariot was fit and good at sports in general. She started rather slowly to follow Croix but her pace did not match hers, so after a lap she found her own speed and ran faster. After 15 minutes, she had taken a lap and a half to her lover. Croix really seemed to suffer and was out of breath.  Chariot accelerated a little bit more to make sure to be with her for the last lap. When she reached her she took her hand and looked into her eyes with a smile that gave wings to Croix. She followed her, forgetting about her painful ankle and her burning lungs. She could only see red hair gleaming in front of her and the perfect balance of her moves and pace even though she was tugging her. The whistle marked the end of the race and the girls slowed down until they stopped completely. Croix let herself fall on the ground, breathing heavily. Chariot brought her some water and helped her get up. That was only the beginning. The teacher had planned to work on sprint and hurdles. Croix became white as a sheet when she heard about the programme but Chariot murmured at her ear that everything would be alright. In reality, it wasn’t alright, not at all. Croix never knew when to jump and either the front foot or the back one hit the hurdles. The last one even made her fall since the instep hurt violently the top of the hurdle making the poor girl lose balance and receive the demonic obstacle on her ankle. Chariot rushed in her direction as fast as the teacher. He observed the student and was anxious about the ankle; Croix was already wearing a strap on it.

“Ms Du Nord, could you take her to the nurse, I will just use the iced spray to ease the pain. You can use my broom if you want.”

“yes sir.”

Croix leaned on Chariot shoulders and hopped up to the teacher’s broom. Chariot placed it in position and sat her friend on it. She then rode it and took off with dexterity. She was the ace of the class at flying brooms; she had even won races and that was why the teacher entrusted her with his.

When they were out of sight, Croix embraced her beloved friend and kissed her neck.

“Wow! Do not distract the driver!” said Chariot joyfully.

“My hero” she said joking

“Are you ok?”

“It’s nothing; really, I just wanted to skip the end of class.”

“What?”

“But it’s true that I have a weak ankle so having it checked won’t be a waste of time.”

They got to the nursery and she confirmed that nothing was broken. She only had a bad bruise. She advised her not to run in the next week and to visit again before the next PE class.

The two girls got out of the nursery, Chariot proposed to take her classmate on her back. Croix was a bit embarrassed but eventually accepted; she had to admit that it was fun.

“I need to return the broom to the teacher. Shall I let you in your room in the meantime?”

“Yeah fine”

“Oh I’ve got an idea. When I return, we should use the spa, there is a huge hot bath and Jacuzzis.”

“Seriously? A spa in the school?”

“Didn’t you know. The counterpart is that we sometimes have to clean it ourselves during the cleaning duties. And it’s often one of the punishments when students misbehave.”

“But there’s a spa in the school! Well I shall have a short shower right now, I feel dirty after sports.”

“Yeah me too. We should use the spa tonight before the curfew.”

“Isn’t it too crowded?”

“Well, normally it gets crowded after class before dinner. After dinner, students like to gather in the common rooms and play games, watch TV, or play music. Sometimes the Drama club organises improvisation nights it’s very popular.”

“So let’s go after dinner.”

In the evening the girls of the class rushed towards Croix to see if she was ok. They all shared sweets and chocolates with her. Chariot felt a little bit jealous but her heart was fluttering at the idea to share a bath with her lover. The students tried to convince Croix to play cards with them but she declined politely pretending to be tired. She got out of the room followed from afar by Chariot. When Croix turned in the corridor and was not visible anymore by her classmates, Chariot hasted her pace to join her. She clung to her arm and kissed her lover on the cheek.

“Chariot! I told you to be careful!”

“There’s no one around. And it was just a sisterly kiss; nothing to be blamed for.”

“No matter, keep a distance in common spaces.”

“And what about the SPA? It’s a common space.”

“We will see if we can anticipate people coming.”

“Oh yeah, showers are compulsory before entering the pool or the Jacuzzi, we will hear the noise if someone gets there it’s a small room just before the baths.”

“Ok, but let’s remain careful”

“Here we are, follow me.”

A big wooden door was standing before them; a bronze sign indicated “BATHS”. Chariot opened the door and they entered a big hall decorated in an oriental style. Blue and yellow mosaics covered the walls. Steamed window panels separated the different rooms. On the left were the mattresses to relax or be massaged. On the right, the lockers room with the showers, In front the baths with the main pool surrounded by several Jacuzzis. From the entrance only a small part of the Baths was visible through a window.

The girls entered the lockers room, nobody was there as expected. The employees had left at 7.30, leaving free access to the baths up to 10 p.m. It was 8.30 and the girls could fully enjoy the place without having to hide. Croix started undressing when she felt a hand caressing her back.

“Sombody’s rather impatient?”

“Hum; maybe.” Chariot held Croix by the waist and kissed the back of her neck. Croix flipped and took the red head between her palms and kissed her. They took off their clothes hastily and still kissing headed to the showers. The hot water falling on their bodies could not stop their embrace. Chariot took Croix’s hand and led her to the main bath.

The place was stupendous. Not only the Arabic style looking like a hammam of the 1001 nights, but also the view. The Spa was situated on the last floor of the newest building at the top of the hill and huge windows opened on a stunning view of the town afar and of the forest around. The moon beamed and was at times partially covered by clouds. Its rays were drawing moving shapes on them, changing rapidly with the slight wind blowing outside.

Chariot dropped her towel and plunged into the big pool, inviting Croix to follow her. Croix let the towel on the hot stones and slipped her body in the steamy water.

“This feels like paradise. I could not imagine something more fairy-like”

“Oh, Don’t move.” Chariot gave a short kiss on the lips of her partner before going out of water and heading to the lockers. Croix was wondering what she was doing and suddenly she heard a spell that she knew well.

A fire of pink sparkles erupted around the main pool. Croix jumped in surprise but soon was fascinated.  Her lover was dancing and jumping all around with her wand in the hand to lead the different geysers of glitters.  She changed their colours, pink, viola, blue, turquoise, green, yellow, orange, or red… She looked at her partner with a much focused gaze and she reproduced her traits with glitters above them as if she were painting her portrait. Croix was astonished, and even more when the portrait animated itself and winked. Chariot jumped into the water and added her auto-portrait; she moved her arms with great swings and the representations faced each other. Chariot clapped her hand together and the two faces kissed. Croix clapped her hands. Chariot pronounced another enchantment and maintained the sparkling fountains without using her wand. She then swam to join her lover who welcomed her with passionate kisses.

“You are a magician. A real one. There is a lot of potential with such a talent.”

“He he he. That’s just entertainment.” Said Chariot with her hand behind her head laughing nervously.

“No, it could be something huge. You could promote Magic all over the world with big shows.”

“I remind you that we need the power of the stone.”

“Tsk, I am sure that with technology, there are means to transport its energy.”

“That seems complicated.”

“But not impossible, believe me. I will find a way.”

“My mad scientist” Chariot had sat on Croix’s laps to kiss her. She took back her wand and pronounced a last formula and epic music sounded. That last touch of perfection was going to lead them to a terrible fate.

The noise attracted the attention of two teachers who had had the same idea as the girls. Ms Clark and Ms O’Shaughnessy wanted to take a hot bath in the Jacuzzi before going to bed. The music they heard was not familiar and they rushed in to see what was happening. When they entered the room the music was very loud and the baths were sparkling with different colours.

Ms Clark got in the lockers room and, still dressed, crossed the showers to see what was going on, followed by her colleague. The room was fantastically beautiful with the geysers of sparkles and it was hard to identify where it came from. Suddenly, Ms Clark recognized the red head she had patted in the morning. Croix was not visible hidden by the body of her lover who was still kissing her.

“Ms CHARIOT DU NORD!” Chariot jumped and turned in the direction of the voice, uncovering the body of her lover. All the Magic ceased instantly. “AND MS CROIX MERIDES!” the two girls plunged underwater with panic and shame.

“GET OUT OF HERE!”Ms Clark yelled.

The two girls grabbed their towels, covered themselves in and walked with the head down towards the teachers.

“What were you doing here?” asked Ms O’Shaughnessy.

“It’s just me, I wanted to show off and I got carried away with my Magic”

“And your lips were carried away as well? And YOU, a newcomer, getting involved in such inappropriate situation. Are you aware that sex intercourses are not allowed at school?”

“We were not having sex Ms O’Shaughnessy if I may. We are both virgins and were just training on kissing. That was just … practice.” said Croix with a cold and assertive tone.

“Are you trying to fool me? Practice? Is it like that you tutor the students?” Ms Clark shouted at Croix

“Well, my dears; get dressed right away. We are paying a visit to the head!” Said Ms O’Shaughnessy abruptly.

The two girls obeyed and followed their teachers looking at their feet; terrified at the idea of being expelled and separated.

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

Tell Me No Lies

(Welcome to Director’s Cut, where the porn advertisement blogs won’t stop coming. Seriously, what kind of horn dog do they think I am, and how close are they to the truth? Tumblr wants to know if I should let you all answer that question, but I’m not gonna let you. Instead, I’m gonna talk about TV shows.)

(I’ve been seriously getting into Lie to Me, lately. It’s a show starring that one guy from Reservoir Dogs who gets shot, only instead he’s a genius psychologist who mastered the art of reading people’s facial cues and uses it to solve mysteries. It’s a good show, as long as you ignore the subtle hints of what I’ve termed “Chuck Norris Syndrome.” You know what I’m talking about. That thing that happens when the lead actor or a family member of the lead actor “just so happens” to be the producer, and the show “coincidentally” likes to paint the lead actor’s character as an untouchable superman who can get away with pissing off the FBI and who sleeps with a new hot babe every three or four episodes. It’s not even that big a deal, mind. I just thought it was kind of funny to notice.)

(Which leads us to the fanfic itself. Andie O’Niell decided, in a flash of brilliance, that a Lie to Me Fanfic deserved no better name than “Tell Me No Lies.” It’s like a Reservoir Dogs fanfic entitled “Dearth Cats.” And naturally, it’s about characters and their love lives, because it’s fanfiction and of course it’s about love lives. Good stuff. Let’s get things started, shall we?)

Tell Me No Lies

By Andie O'Neill

Rating: K+

Genre: Friendship, Romance, Drama, Angst

Pairing: Eli/Ria (Friendship), Cal/Gillian (They didn’t put a parenthesis here. What kind of pairing is Cal/Gillian? I choose to believe “Partners in an upcoming cheese-related business venture.”)

Summary: Ria can see through his lies, and she knows everyone else can too, but why won't they tell Gillian? 

A/N: This was just a little something I thought of during class. Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or it's characters.

(Can I just go on a bit of a tangent, here, before the story starts properly? Disclaimers don’t work. At all. I saw these all the time. Hell, I probably used them myself, constantly. But they’re in no way a defense against copyright infringement and all the stuff that comes from it, in the same way that robbing a bank isn’t okay if you tell the bank clerk “I don’t own the money that’s in this bag with a dollar sign stenciled on it.” The reason your fanfic isn’t gonna get taken down, though, is actually for a much simpler reason than your display of legal prowess: the original creator doesn’t know you exist. And if they do, they don’t care. At least, not enough to want to go through the trouble of filing a cease and desist. Anyway, tangent over. Proceed, Andie, m’bud.)

"Disgust," Eli Loker whispered in her ear, and Ria immediately turned her heard, not quite sure what he was talking about. One minute she'd been watching Doctor Foster's husband lie to her once more and the next… (and the next thing she knew, the room was filled with live, wriggling octopi.) oh. Eli had smug smile on his face at having caught her so quickly. Ria wasn't sure, bit it seemed like a game to these people, catching each other in their lies and then celebrating each victory. Ria had yet to find the humor in their games, often played by Doctor Lightman himself. (That is, when he wasn’t busy pretending to be an inmate so he could talk to a serial killer, or convincing a man to get out of a tractor and risk setting off what could very well have been a bomb, or getting caught at illegal fight clubs, or that time he...)

"That's the fifth time he's lied to her in two weeks. How do you stand it?" she asked, following him down the hallway towards Eli's office… if you could call it that. (Having had no job more prestigious than “baggage checker at the TSA” in her life, up until now, Ria Torres was naturally incredibly sniffy about what constituted the work space of successful people.) "How can she fall for it?"

Eli simply shrugged, and Ria noticed a glimpse of sadness cross his face. "Some people prefer the lie, Ria. If Gillian wanted to see it she would."

Of anyone in the group Eli was often the easiest to talk to. Despite his pathetic attempts at flirting, he was always open and honest. He never held back, and Ria had to admit she liked that about him. There were no pretences. He spoke what was on his mind. (It was almost as if he had been introduced to her as practicing something called “radical honesty.” Her memory of things that happened a few weeks ago was a bit fuzzy.) "Doctor Lightman won't tell her," Ria said at loud. Lightman called her a natural, only she knew less about the science, though she'd certainly been working her ass off trying to learn it. She'd watched Lightman's pupils dilate, noticed the way his skin flushed when Gillian got too close. All signs pointed to arousal… attraction. (Not arousal. Never arousal. Ria would honestly rather die than think of Cal Lightman as a sexual being.) What Ria couldn't figure out, was why he held back when it was so obvious he felt something for her.

Eli nodded. "Of course he won't. It's not his place."

Torres turned around to face the taller man, disturbed by his words. (”Go away, Slender,” she told him. “I’m trying to have a conversation, here.” Slenderman left, continuing his creepy muttering, while Ria rolled her eyes and turned back to Loker, who was tall, but certainly shorter than the office nut-job.) "So you're saying if I was dating a jerk who was probably cheating on me you wouldn't say a word?"

Eli smiled. "That depends… am I the jerk or is it someone else?"

Ria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You wish."

"I certainly do," he agreed.

Ria moved out of his way, following him down the hall once more. "Eventually she'll figure it out, and she'll want to know why we never said anything."

Eli shook his head. "She won't need to wonder. If she wanted to know… she'd know." She couldn't disagree with his logic, (because it was too ridiculous on its face to even entertain,) and that seemed to infuriate her more than anything. He was right. Foster had the training. She knew the science. "Sadness," said Eli, pulling Ria from her thoughts.

"What?"

"Sadness."

(Ria really couldn’t understand the appeal of this game. Playing “gotcha” with emotional cues was petty enough, but when nobody was lying to anybody, and they were just having a conversation, it was arbitrary and mean-spirited to constantly remind each other that they were all walking lie detectors. At least in theory. In practice, Loker kind of just looked like a moron for being so proud of the fact he could read what was already there, plain to see, without any sort of deception on her part. He might as well have been pointing at the doors and saying “Door!” with that same smug little grin.)

Ria sighed as they reached his office, leaning against the door frame. "Lightman… he cares about her… doesn't he?"

Eli takes a seat at his desk, rolling his chair around as he grabbed the video from their latest case. "Funny isn't it? They're the experts and yet they still end up just as clueless as the rest of us."

"I wouldn't exactly call that funny, Eli." And this time it was Ria that was calling him out. "Regret," she whispered.

Eli simply nodded, looking into her eyes. (”Nice try, but regret isn’t exactly a readable emotion. It’s a bit too complex. Sadness, on the other hand...”) "Look closely enough and you'll see it in them too."

Not for the first time, Ria wondered if the job would ever get easier, or if she'd ever get used to it. It wasn't easy being picked apart day in and day out. "Does it ever get any easier?" Gillian had been telling her time and time again that it did, but Ria had never been so sure. (That it got any easier, that is. Just trying to get that point across, real clear-like.)

Eli looked away, turning on his computer. "Nope."

It wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for, but she knew right away that it was the truth, (insomuch as one person’s opinion could ever be considered the truth,) and suddenly she could understand why Gillian seemed so content believing the lies. "We all claim we want the truth, that we don't want to be lied to… but somehow I get the feeling even that in itself is a lie."

Eli's smile immediately returned. "You know Ria, I think you're gonna fit in here just fine," he told her turning on the video.

"Right," Ria muttered, pulling a chair to sit beside him. They had work to do. As she looked out the door she could see Lightman walk by, talking to Gillian about their own case, and she silently wondered if they'd ever open their eyes and accept the truth. Either way, Eli was right. It was just something they'd have to figure out for themselves. If they'd rather believe the lie, than who was she to crash their beliefs with reality? (It’s not like she worked for a boss who would ever tear down illusions with an almost maniacal level of fervor, making enemies of everyone, up to and including the FBI, and regularly putting his and everyone else’s lives and careers in jeopardy in the process, because his precious truth was more important than maybe like one iota of discretion. That’d be a trip and a half, to have to deal with.)

"Acceptance," Eli pointed out, and the smug smile had returned. (”It’s the one part of the grieving process I’m having trouble with. My poor guinea pig was just taken from the world too soon, Ria. It’s a miscarriage of justice!”)

This time Ria did roll her eyes. "Just play the tape, Eli."

Eli laughed, pushing the DVD into the computer, the smug smile only growing with his triumph. (At least until he knocked over the monitor and sent it crashing to the ground. Lightman would spend the next hour and a half chewing him out, wondering out loud how a college educated scientist would ever be so bloody stupid as to think that you play a DVD by literally pushing it into a computer, like it’s just gonna meld into the screen or something.)

The End