#there is nothing quite as intolerant and closed minded than a tolerant and open minded liberal

[sawbuckplus]

[theninthdoor]

baekhyun || ideal type; tarot reading

disclaimer: in my Ideal Type readings, I look into what the person in question is currently (consciously and unconsciously) attracted to! it’s not necessarily their perfect match or the one they will end up with.

✦ Impression (What is seen externally // Might not accuratelly represent the person):

cards: king of wands reversed, three of swords reversed, king of swords reversed

Oh… he likes people who look like they have a mean streak?? Intolerant, always in control; someone who shows little patience or consideration for those who move at a slower pace than them or those who prefer to do things in a different way. At the same time, this person would never tolerate people being impolite towards them. They would lash out right away, and demand an apology! Most likely introverted, they would just appear cold and distant, keeping everybody at arm's length and rarely showing them a smile… people would get nothing else from them. Still, this is a rule breaker - the only rules never allowed to be broken, would be their own… They would not explain themselves to others and neither would they follow the lead of someone they considered being bellow their own level of expertise/intelligence. Alternatively, this could also be the sort of person who purposefully breaks rules to show that they are not part of crowd, and don't wanna be seen as such - they are their own individual, and they think with their own mind! It also feels like Baekhyun fantasies about his ideal type having a whole tragic backstory that turned them into this type of person. Movie villain, with a tragic past - that's his ideal type (impression wise).

✦ Personality:

cards: ace of cups, the moon, eight of swords reversed

This goes well with that last portion of their impression… Under the whole mean, cold, intimidating mask would be a soft-hearted, nurturing individual. Someone who cares deeply about those close to them, and gives them all the love and attention in the world. Besides that, his ideal type should also be somewhat artistically inclined or, at least, have an eye/ear for art and music. Essentially, this would be a sensitive person; that type to feel a lot, cry easily and share their feelings openly. Generous and compassionate, they should also value deep and meaningful connections. However, this would still be someone who would often prefer to hide their real selves from others as a defense mechanism. Because they would feel so vulnerable, they'd be afraid that people would use that against them, and so they'd mask it with something else (in this case, coldness/insensitivity/meanness). Plus, I also feel like his ideal type is someone who'd risk it all for love, even though they wouldn't look like it at a first glance. This person would see no limits. Not only would they open up completely to their loved ones, but they would also do everything and anything for them, no matter how crazy!

✦ What his ideal type should provide in a relationship:

cards: nine of pentacles reversed, five of wands, three of pentacles

Baekhyun would like his ideal type to act as if they can't live without him - like life isn't fun when he's not around; like being by themselves isn't enough anymore, now that they know him. Even if they are quite independent and self-reliant, he would like them to sometimes act like they need his help for certain thing (such as opening a wine bottle or getting something from the top shelf lmao… tall king BBH). Basically, he wants to feel like they need him, and he wants them to ACT like they need him. He enjoys seeing people working hard to get his attention, even by putting on an act - just the effort, no matter how silly, would get him going. But, besides that, he would also enjoy being with someone who's responsible and realistic, and not just a fool in love. Someone who values the right things in life, and is always willing to learn more and to work hard for their goals (in the relationship, too, but not solely). Plus, it also feels like having some similar hobbies or interests would be a point in favor. He'd just like to have something else to discuss with them besides all of the lovey-dovey stuff.

(Disclaimer: all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 28)

Apologies if this chapter is a little lackluster I was massively multi-tasking lol.

She was a fool to forget to earn herself some Fire Nation coin before meeting Fire Nation shores. And for it she knows that she will grapple with hunger, dehydration, and sleeplessness again. It is far too late to make such preparations now as the boat pulls into port, perhaps she could help unload the luggage and earn herself enough for a meal. She is thankful that she has kept much of her supplies from her days in the grassland though she can’t imagine that she will have much use for the blankets.

The moment that Azula steps out of the vessel and into the afternoon she wonders if the sun has always been this brutal, she feels as though she has made her homecoming on the very hottest day. On the most instinctual level, she knows that this is a rather cool day for what the Fire Nation usually has to offer. Even still, the sun’s rays swelter upon skin made delicate by so much time spent under more merciful Earth Kingdom rays. The words weak and soft come to mind as she brushes her fingers over her skin. Skin that had grown too sensitive. She already feels it redding and she has only been out in the rays for a few minutes.

She wipes a few beads of sweat away and fans at her face. She isn’t sure if it is more foolish to go through with her plans to request a job that requires extensive physical labor under the sun or to continue on and into the inferno with no coin to pay for drink. Decidedly she can try to save up enough gold and copper pieces to get herself a ride back to Caldera City.

Ignoring the sense lolling in her belly she finds the dock hands and offers her skills.

Where the Earth Kingdom has weakened her heat tolerance, it has brought a muscle definition that is, perhaps, not befitting of a princess. Not that she has been able to call herself that in a very long time, she isn’t sure that she wants to. And her stomach churns in double. She is once again at a loss and in a place of directionlessness. She isn’t sure that the Fire Nation has room to welcome her back.

She helps the first deckhand--he had mentioned that his name was Yon Rah--theater the ship to the dock.

“But I’m not the Yon Rah that this village was named for!” He declares.

Azula tries to find her sense of humor, tries to at least manage a forced laugh. But the simmering heatwaves steal the ability from her. Instead she mumbles an apology for rudeness.

The man chuckles, “it was a bad joke anyways!” He disappears into the cargo hold. “Can you help me with this?”

She sure hopes so. Despite her doubts she nods and picks up one end of the crate. Whatever is in it weighs an obscene amount. Her back and arm muscles strain and the sweat trickles down her forehead with more persistence.

“You doing alright, lady?”  Yon Rah asks.

“I just…” She lightly fans her head. Need a break…”I need a drink.”

“Well why didn’t you just say so!?” She wonders how he can be so joyful under such blistering sunbeams. He tosses her a waterskin. Her throat is too parched for her to put much thought into whose lips have been on this waterskin before her own. She drinks it greedily down, a bead of water trickles from the corner of her mouth.

“I’m ready to resume.”

“We don’t have too much more to do. Just a few more crates of trade goods.”

She enters the cargo hold the shade is sublimely welcoming for the minute that she dwells inside of it. She finds herself the smallest crate and lifts it into her arms. If nothing else, she can at least appreciate the wonders her travels have done for her form, it will be nice to test her firebending now.

She carries the crate back into the sunlight. It is brimming with jewelry, kimono silks, and fine shoes. She looks at her own shoes, they have grown somewhat worn, she knows that they won’t last the miles between Yon Rah and Caldera City. And for a moment she thinks of swiping a pair of shoes.

Just as her fingers close around a pair, Yon Rah appears. She clears her throat. “How much do you think these would sell for?” She improvises before he can leap to his own conclusions. “The embroidery is stunning.”

He checks the label on the crate. “I’d wager that they aren’t for sale. They’re engagement presents for the fiance of Admiral Chan’s son.

Azula nods and her urge to steal them grows. She passes the crate off to Yon Rah before the impulse can grow unbearable and fetches herself a different one. Five crates in and her head is spinning, stomach lurching. The sun paints her face red. Her sense of insecurity heightens at the surmounting nausea that grows with each crate. The sun shouldn’t be this dizzying. Her ancestors would be ashamed. She is ashamed. She is taken by the thought that she doesn’t deserve the fire rippling through her chi points.

“...waterskin?” She hadn’t caught the first part. It doesn’t matter. Only the waterskin matters. She holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers.

He waits for her to drink before saying, “if you need a break…”

She shakes her head. She has done tasks much more strenuous and intensive than this. Has trained under blazes significantly hotter, “I’m fine.”

The man rubs his lips before pressing them into a thin line.”

“I need the gold pieces. I can even handle another boat.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, lady. I would hate to see you fall over.”

Azula sighs, “do you think that I’ve never fallen before?” She doesn’t mean to sound quite so harsh. “I will lift those crates until my knees buckle and I will have my…”

For the first time that day his good humored nature falters. “Lady, you’re lucky I let you help me with this boat.

“You’re lucky that I volunteered, you would still be struggling along if…”

“And you’ll be lucky to get any compensation for it with that tongue of yours.”

It comes as another slap in the face, a second reminder alongside that heat, that she can hardly consider herself a Fire National anymore. She flinches, once for having put her pay on the line after having exerted herself so and twice over for her latest social blunder--for having forgotten how such backtalk and disrespect wouldn’t be tolerated as the Earth Kingdomers have tolerated it. She dreads to think of what her father would say to her if he could see her now, weak to the cold and rude in speech.

And maybe it was a mistake to leave the Earth Kingdom after all. Even at its cruelest, it has been so kind to her. She can’t name a stranger who had been unkind or intolerant to her. For the first time she finds herself wishing that she had been born to the Earth Kingdom. She considers that her life would have been kinder there, that her heart wouldn’t be so burdened if her eyes were green instead of gold.   Had she any vestige of superiority left it would have fallen away. Suddenly it is hard to put herself in her own shoes, to understand how she had once thought that this remorseless nation and its apathetic nature was anything worth infecting the rest of the world with.

She rubs her hands over her face, she shouldn’t hate her homeland. To hate her homeland and its values would be to hate a large portion of herself. And maybe she does. Maybe she does hate herself and everything she had been. Everything she had stood for. And this time she has no one to remind her that she shouldn’t. That she should appreciate her past and what it has taught her, what it has led her to become.

Right now she only has regret. Regret for her past and regret for her decision to bring herself back to it.

Yon Rah says something else, she doesn’t catch it. She doesn’t look up from her palms. She should say something.

“...alright?” she catches, his tone is somewhat softer.

Her past in the Earth Kingdom has become just as heavy as her Fire Nation past, but in the Earth Kingdom, at least has kinder memories to go with it. She thinks that, had she stayed, even in Chin, she would have been able to find kind company again.

Azula stops herself from laughing bitterly aloud; she is certain that she already had. She had made several connections, met several people she could picture herself staying with. She resents how hard pressed she is to recognize good things when she has them. And resents, even further, how routinely she takes things for granted.

This time hasn’t the funds to change her mind and sail back to the Earth Kingdom and chase down the company that she had forfeited in her desperate flight from her woes. Her vision is growing fuzzy and she isn’t sure if it is with stress or heat.

Azula feels a hand on her shoulder. She mumbles a quick apology and stands.

“You should sit down.” The man frowns.

But she doesn’t. She fetches her pack, slings it over her shoulder, and shuffles away from the ships bobbing in the ocean waters. The knock of them against the docks follows her away. So to does the man’s voice. “I wasn’t serious about withholding your pay, lady.”

Had she any sense she would have turned back and taken it. Perhaps the sun has sucked her sanity drier than her parched lips. It is just one more mistake in a long line of them. This journey has been nothing but mishap and misstep after mishap and misstep. She can’t help but wonder if Zuko’s journey had been this brutal or if the universe is keen on antagonizing her specifically. Her time in Wujing had only been permitted so as to make everything else after it that much more agonizing.

Azula, not for the first time, thinks that it is time to stop. To drop to her knees, hold up a white flag, and let her body wither where it stands. There is nothing waiting for her here. No one to welcome her home with open and relieved arms. She gets the sense that her sudden reappearance will be nothing but an inconvenience, a collective groan of frustration made by everyone she’d ever wronged.

The Fire Nation sun is brutal, persistent, unrelenting and the people who walk under it are twice as so. She walks under the Fire Nation sun.

It is such a late lesson and she wishes she had learned it much earlier; that day she learns not to take things for granted.

.oOo.

Azula isn’t sure how she feels anymore. It is something between numbness and calmness. Happiness and sadness. Caihong looks so happy amid the strawberries and twice as delighted to catch the scent of turnips again. And it is only because she doesn’t know that she won’t be returning to the place that birthed her comfort in the scent...

“Go on, pick one of the strawberries.” Sokka nudges her.

“They aren’t ready for harvest yet.” She replies. “We just planted them.” She feels his arms slide around her torso, his lips on her neck. And she wonders how he can be so loving toward such a questionable person.

“Ya know what I think would help you?”

She peers up at him.

“Making Caihong smile.”

“I can’t even make myself smile.”

“That’s my job.” He declares.

“You’re doing a horrible job, Sokka.”

“Give me time!” He throws his hands up, his voice shrill. But she doesn’t know how much patience she has left. She has been sad for so long… She rubs at her face; that isn’t true, he has made her smile several times since she has come home. She has been happy, truly so.

“Why does it always have to end?”

Sokka quirks a brow.

“Every time I’m stable, happy...” She knows that she sounds ridiculous, naive. Of course she can’t be happy all the time. She just isn’t sure that her sorrow is suppose to be this deep every time that she isn’t.

“That’s just how it works.” Sokka confirms. “Even TyLee isn’t beaming with joy all the time.”

She opens her mouth to make another self-deprecating remark but she doesn’t think that Sokka wants to hear it. She doesn’t think that she wants to either. She knows that she doesn’t. She lets herself fall quiet instead.

“Speaking of TyLee…” He gestures to she, Mai, and Zuko.

“Hi, Azula!” She grins.

Azula gives a small wave.

“The turnips smell great!”

She quirks a brow. “I always thought that the scent was the worst part of living in Wujing.”

“Maybe that’s because you’ve been around it for too long.” Mai shrugs. “Beats the smell of freshly baked bread.”

“Who hates the smell of bread!?” Sokka throws his hands up again, this time, nearly hitting her in the face. Azula gently guides his hands back to her abdomen where they are significantly less hazardous.

“Apparently my girlfriend.” Zuko rolls his eyes. “She seems to hate everything good and wholesome.”

“No wonder she likes you.” Azula grumbles.

“And here I made you cherry blossom tea.” He sets a tray of tea before her. “The servants are bringing out the food and picnic blanket…”

“A picnic!” Caihong springs up from her spot among the turnips. Her cheeks are smudged with dirt. She attempts to rub it away with even dirtier hands.

“We’ll need to wash those grubby hands before you eat.” Azula quirks a brow.

Caihong points at the turtleduck pond.

Azula sighs, “with soap and water.”

Caihong pays her suggestion no mind and trots over to the turtle duck pond. “Wash, wash, splash, splash, cleaner than Chin’s mustache!” She sings. Azula can’t imagine that Chin’s mustache had been anything remotely close to clean. She skips up to Azula and takes hold of her sleeve, stroking at it. “It’s so soft.” She coos. “And pretty and…”

“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Caihong.”

The girl blinks.

“You could have dried those dirty little hands on the picnic blanket.”

She giggles. “Your sleeve is better!”

Azula sighs as the girl scrambles into her lap. She smells as heavily of turnip as Azula remembers. “Bao wants to join the picnic too!” She darts off a second time to fetch Bao from where she had nearly forgotten him amid the turnips. He is significantly dirtier now.

“I’m going to have to have the servants give Bao a bath.”

Caihong narrows her eyes, “Bao ain’t like those, Ri...A-zu-la.”

She rolls her eyes. At least the girl is trying now. She wraps her arms around the child, feeling a sort of warmth that she hasn’t felt in ages. A warmth that manages to cut through her sense of dismay. She gives Caihong a little squeeze. Across the picnic blanket, Zuko flashes her a smile and finally it settles in, in full that she still has a family. She still has her family.

She feels Sokka’s chin on her shoulder as she reaches for her teacup. She feels a breeze on her cheeks, the sun gently kissing her skin. She cups her hand over Sokka’s. She leans into him and, with his free hand, he rubs the back of her hand with his thumb.

She doesn’t realize that she is crying until that same thumb wipes a tear away. She can’t even say why she is crying again. But Caihong shifts around in her arms and presses Bao into her chest with instructions to hold him. And she laughs; the girl is trying so very hard to make it all better and in a way that only a little girl can.

TyLee wraps her arms around her and Zuko does too. “Come on, Mai.” He beckons. She rolls her eyes but inches her way into their ridiculous and clumsy hug. “Ugg, really, I think that I just spilled tea on my robe?” She grumbles.

Azula has to laugh. For the first time in so long things feel simple, as though she is still fourteen, unburdened by loss and full of dreams and aspirations.

She holds Caihong close and Sokka holds her closer. And she realizes why she is crying. It is relief. Relief and happiness. And she clings to it. Clings to it with a violence. She could lose it at any time. For the first time in a long time, she finally feels at home, truly at home.

[ahgaseda]

wolf boys || chapter 17

⇥ synopsis : being the young alpha female over a pack of misbehaving werewolves is no easy task and is made even more complicated when the time comes to choose a mate...

⇥ warnings : this story in its entirety includes but is not limited to strong language and dialogue, recurring violence or mentions of blood, and explicit sexual content, and is intended for an adult audience only!

Heat may have faded, but that certainly did nothing to stop Jaebeom and his hunger for your body.

“I can finally take you on your back,” he whispered darkly, rolling you over. “See your pretty face when you come for me.”

You raked your nails down his broad chest, licking your lips as you watched him slip his hands to the bends of your knees and pull you apart. His scalding gaze was on your folds, glistening with arousal and release.

The pheromones had quelled. Jaebeom no longer knotted inside you, locking your bodies together after each tryst. For the time being, you thrummed in a constant low current of bliss, body satisfied and filled with little concern of ever feeling empty again.

Jaebeom looked to the bated expression on your face and slipped his length over the hood of your clit. Then, he waited for your consent, which you gave to him with a few nods as you gazed up at him in anticipation.

“Take it,” you finally whimpered when he took too long to penetrate you.

Jaebeom fought a smirk, heady with your endless desire for him, and pressed his cock into your entrance, filling you up as he had before over and over. You lilted your head back and let a tiny moan escape you. Every nerve ending was on edge, every inch of his length driving you through sensitivity.

No more coupling to breed. This was purely for pleasure.

Jaebeom guided your ankle to his shoulder and began to pound away at you, ever eager to give you climax and hear you scream his name for all to hear. You gasped for air at how deeply he stroked inside you. This wasn’t like the other times when you endured his thrusts and your body would move in sync.

You placed a firm hand at the lowest reach of his stomach, trying to slow him down.

Jaebeom tossed his hair out of his eyes and glanced down at your hand.

You winced loudly through your teeth at his hips colliding with yours. “Gentle,” you whispered, trembling. “Gentle…”

Jaebeom studied where your bodies met and something inexplicable crossed over his face. You couldn’t tolerate his usual roughness and now, he saw you as fragile as glass. “Nice and slow then,” he replied softly.

You nodded.

Jaebeom pulled your leg from his shoulder and propped himself over you, chest-to-chest, kissing you tenderly. He just knew there was a baby in your belly; a baby the two of you had made together from a place of love and passion. After the last few days, he knew your body better than his own and hoped that was the reason for your newfound intolerance.

You purred in his ear, locking your ankles over his lower back. His lips danced across your neck, lapping at your skin and setting you afire. The thoughts in his mind blended into your own, becoming shared as everything else between you.

Slow and gentle, you echoed, eyes rolling back at the intensity of his thrusts. Each draw back and push forward of his hips had you seeing stars. His effort was concentrated, coaxing you to completion.

And when Jaebeom told you, “Come for me,” your body didn’t hesitate to obey him.

After his cock throbbed deep in your cunt and painted your walls with release, you brushed your nails up and down his back in comfort. Jaebeom hadn’t stayed inside since the first time, when you requested it of him. Once his knot had been free, he was content to sleep, but not this time.

With no knot to keep him trapped inside, he tightened his arms around you and kept himself buried in your heat in quiet possession. The first thing you noticed was his attention was not on your face.

Something had spooked him.

Reaching up to comb hair from his eyes, you asked, “What is it?”

His response was gruff, “...Nothing.”

You chuckled, your voice barely a whisper. “Jaebeom, you’re inside me. It’s impossible for you to lie.”

Jaebeom finally looked at you and exhaled heavily. Leaning in to kiss you with warmth and affection, you began to wonder if he was trying to make you forget your question.

“An alpha male,” he finally answered and bristled at the mere thought of a challenger seeking his female. “He entered the territory last night.”

You were wholly unconcerned, considering heat had faded. “And if we stay like this, he can’t enter me,” you quipped, since that appeared to be Jaebeom’s motivation for keeping inside you.

Jaebeom frowned. Not in the mood for humor.

It was worth a try, you mused to yourself, knowing he would hear. But you understood where his mind was; Jaebeom was a male that had just bred his mate. His concerns were quite firmly planted in thoughts of protection and defense. Just as yours were fixating to sustenance and nourishment for what would be your growing offspring.

“You’re very weak right now,” Jaebeom commented with worry, eyes centering on the flush of your cheeks. “I feel it.”

It was true. You were dangerously low on energy. “I haven’t eaten in three days. I’ve been busy making a baby with my mate,” you crooned, pulling him closer to press a wet kiss to his neck.

“Mm,” Jaebeom hummed, flexing with arousal at your words. Even the way you spoke was slow and drawn out. There was a shift in your hormones. Where yours had saturated the air he breathed and nearly drowned the scent of him, now his was becoming the dominant again.

Heat had come to an end. It was nature’s way of restoring the balance, of concealing you beneath his scent and warding off potential threats.

After a few more tender kisses, your heart fluttered at the catch in his breath when his lips met yours. Jaebeom was consumed by you, in every possible way.

You let your head fall back, eyes closing as you ran out of strength. “I’m so tired.”

“You’ve been amazing,” Jaebeom whispered, rising to his let his cock slip from your folds and watching his seed fall from your opening. “I can’t wait to watch my baby grow.”

You smiled at that, but your growling stomach gave you a tug. “I need food.”

It had been three days since you left the bedroom. The moment you opened the door, you stuck your head out and peered down the hallway in search of boys. Boys that would undoubtedly pester you about all of the sex you’d been having.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you grumbled with annoyance. There was a definite limp to your walk, soreness lingering between your thighs. You would give Jaebeom a piece of your mind when he finished cleaning himself up.

Then, you smirked, reminded how good he felt and decided to save your complaints for another day.

Opening the fridge and cabinets, you gathered food and proceeded to stuff your face with everything you could find. Going three days without a meal, though the feat was much easier for wolves than humans, you were ravenous.

The scent of another male tickled your nose and you turned as Jackson stepped through the back door. You both gawked at each other briefly before a grin pulled at his lips.

“You smell like Jaebeom,” he teased with his usual humor.

There was nothing in you that distrusted Jackson, but in that moment, you were tired and hungry and extremely vulnerable. Your instincts were still very much in control.

“You smell like male that is not Jaebeom,” you growled.

Jackson held up his hands to show he was of no threat, though he kept smiling. “Ooh, okay. She’s a little hostile.”

Having sensed your shift in emotions, Jaebeom descended the stairs rapidly, zipping up his pants. He moved to your side and coiled an arm around your waist possessively. You folded into his bare chest, burrowing your head beneath his chin. He had foregone a shirt, solely for the reason of allowing you to feel his skin against yours, and wanting to let his scent fill the air without barrier.

Jackson chuckled at your behavior. You were clearly love drunk and still quite hormonal.

Jaebeom looked to his delta and said, “Head back. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Neither male wanted to contend with the protective instincts of a female at the moment.

“Sure thing,” Jackson said with a wiggle of his brows at you.

You narrowed your eyes in scolding.

Once the door had closed, Jaebeom pressed his lips to your temple sweetly and murmured, “Someone is a little feisty.”

You guided his arm across your stomach, like a shield. Nuzzling his neck, you whispered submissively, “My baby belongs to the alpha.”

Jaebeom rumbled like thunder deep in his throat and the sound nearly sent you to your knees. He was quick to warn, “Don’t make me bend you over this counter and show them how well you take my cock.”

You giggled with mischief. Bracing your hands on his chest and pushing the alpha male away playfully, you said, “I have to eat. Keep them away from me until I’m ready.”

“Yes, alpha,” he replied, sauntering to the door and not taking his eyes off of you until he was outside.

You ate until you were content. You felt your strength return little by little, gathering in the pit of your stomach. Rarely did your hand leave your belly. You wanted to know your baby was thriving there, wanted desperately to sense their presence inside you.

With time, you consoled yourself. There was not a single doubt in your mind that the days spent underneath Jaebeom had been successful. You were both young and healthy wolves; not to mention, exemplary alphas. With that in mind, you commanded your thoughts to leave you alone. Stressing over it would never help.

Finally, as the sun left the sky and the moon took her rightful place above, you stepped outside. The four wolves in the yard had been sparring, welcoming back their brother after days without him. They each in turn stopped to watch you, eyes fixated to their alpha female as you descended the stairs.

You still couldn’t phase, couldn’t join them in true form. Your magic was needed elsewhere.

You came to sit in their midst, a human between four massive beasts. Jinyoung tucked his head into your lap, whining until you hugged him between your arms. Jackson swiped his rough tongue over your cheek while Mark was complacent to curl up at your side and let you lean against him.

Settling down after their greetings, one by one the wolves lifted their heads to the moon and howled for all to hear. This song was threatening, eerie - devoid of the grace and gentility of your voice. It was meant as such. To ward off those that would encroach on the claimed territory and the female.

Between notes, Jaebeom inhaled deeply through his nose and the scent on his tongue made him snarl. He’s too close, the alpha hissed lowly.

“I’m not in heat anymore,” you reminded, hands threading in Mark and Jinyoung’s fur.

Perched across from you, the ebony wolf met your eyes. They looked even more golden than usual. But he smelled you and kept following the scent.

We drive him out, said Jackson, rising to his paws and wagging his tail, excited at the prospect of a fight.

Jaebeom rose then, towering over you, and turned to his delta. You stay with her. 

Jackson bowed his head shortly. He was the strongest, of course he would be the protector of the alpha female.

Then, Jaebeom approached you. Who do you want to come with me?

You hesitated, wondering how he would feel if Jinyoung stayed behind at your side.

Jaebeom tilted his furry head and replied, I’m not threatened by him.

You snorted. Jaebeom was tapped into you at this point. There was no need to hide anything from him. You instinctively put a hand over your belly and Jaebeom’s gaze followed.

The alpha brought his head to your lap, rubbing his cheek at the flat expanse of your stomach. You cradled his furry snout, indulging him in his instinctive need.

Pulling back, the wolf announced, I will go alone.

“No,” you replied without a thought.

You can’t phase, he asserted. Three guards are better.

“But Jaebeom…,” you began, getting to your feet and preparing to argue.

I’m the alpha. I will go alone.

The other wolves paced, showing their submission and respect.

You took your mate’s head in your hands, fingers winding in his fur, and said, “Stand before me.”

The beast blinked in surprise.

“I want a kiss.”

Jaebeom appeared before you in an instant, taking you in his arms and melding his lips to yours. You smiled against his mouth, grasping his waist to pull him closer.

“Come back to me,” you said when the two of you finally broke apart. “Fast.”

“Yes, alpha,” was all he said and you knew he meant it.

You watched the man become a midnight wolf in the flash of a second, sprinting into the darkness of the forest without looking back.

For a moment, you stood there, staring into the endless sea of pitch black nothingness that had swallowed him. The three remaining wolves felt the pain in your heart as if it were their own and gathered around you, concealing you in their fur.

You reached up to tangle your fingers in Jinyoung’s familiar coat. You leaned against Mark’s sturdy shoulder. And Jackson brought his head before you, guarding your stomach at the risk of exposing his own throat. A symbolic gesture.

That was when you felt it. The faintest wisp of a thought. One that was not your own.

As tears rolled down your cheeks, you smiled faintly, safe and sound with your wolf boys.

chapter 16 ⇤ chapter 17 ⇥ chapter 18

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

{ copyright 2018-2020 © ahgaseda // all rights reserved }

[felix-the-cat]

Wednesday, May 13, 2020 – 4:29 a.m.

The negative space is not a bad thing. It is a backdrop from which the message can be displayed; from which the Light can shine through brightest. This world is waking up to new possibilities and wonder. It is tapping into the infinite creative intelligence from within.

There are many things occurring here simultaneously. It is important that you understand that Spirit is here more than ever before. The vibrations of this planet have increased to the point where the ascended masters are now returning to you.

Soon you will see why you have had to go through such a time as this. Many of you are already realizing that these things that are occurring are for the highest good of all. No longer do you walk in darkness. You have been shown the True Path of Light and are following Spirit step-by-step along the path.

These are the days you have asked for and they are being formed within your framework of reality at this time. There is no going back to the old world. The New Reality is taking hold and has already formed in the Minds of The Awakened Ones.

What is it you envision for this world? You can make it into a reality for yourself and countless others. All you need do is to call it forth. These things we speak of are the True Death. They have brought you to a point of re-birth. You are being called into a new reality and with that comes the death of the old self.

You are now becoming a grander version of the Self that is a True Reality. It is the reality of the Spirit that has always been here. You are now being called to create from a new platform. You are being given a New set of tools with which to use.

Do not curse the darkness. It has always dwelt among you. Only now, you are beginning to see it for what it truly is. It is the backdrop of your existence and the Light is shining upon it. As more and more turn on their internal light the backdrop fades into a distant memory.

We are headed in a new direction here. We are ascending into the stars and are being rocketed forth into the 5th dimension together. Some are trying desperately to cling to the old way simply because it seems so familiar. Let loose your death grip on the old reality. Unclench your fists and rise into the heavens and join us.

We have created the Revolution of Consciousness that is a reality now. Open your eyes to the beauty and Love that is all around you. No longer are you fooled by the shadows. No longer are you afraid of the dark for you have become the Light. You walk along the path and simply stand in Light at long last.

You can no longer tolerate that which would cause you distress. It is being puled out of you as you look deep within yourselves and heal the shadows within. No longer is the backdrop of darkness necessary for your growth for you now know who you truly are.

You are a being of Light. You come from Source and indeed you are Source. You have asked for the experiences you have brought yourselves to. You are not a victim of circumstances any more than we are. We realize, as do you, that Spirit cannot be damaged.

You have simply wanted a place to let your Light shine so brightly. What better place to see your brilliant diamond light that shines forth so brightly than from a place of complete darkness. This is the backdrop you have chosen so that you may realize who and what you truly are at last.

The New Day is here. Once you realize that you are the Light and have experienced the darkness on a level so intolerant to your sense of Self, you will wake naturally; refreshed in the knowing that you can never be hurt, truly. You are an eternal being pretending to be weak.

Now, it is time for a New Game. A new dynamic playing field is being formed all around you and the rules are simple. Know thyself. Know thyself as Light. Love one another. Have compassion for those that you perceive to be less fortunate, for they too are playing their own game and are ready to call it quits.

You have all won at this game and now it is time for the Victory Celebration. As more and more of you wake each day, the vibration of the planet increases. We are close to critical mass upon this planet and, once activated, the world will truly change.

Look for it in the years ahead. More will be revealed as you walk daily with Spirit by your side. It matters not what the belief structure is. Love is love. There is no stopping it. With open arms it welcomes you back Home to a peace that is your birthright.

What a truly amazing time to be alive. You are on the cusp of the Grandest Awakening this world has ever seen. You have our attention and assistance. We are here to show you how you can walk as truly free beings do.

The way to achieve the peace and serenity you so desire is to go deep within and see the illusion for what it is. You have created all of this and you can create something entirely new and novel. Indeed, you already are.

There is nothing you need to do to make this happen. Your very existence upon this planet is all that needs to occur. You would not be here right now if it were not for your sincere desire to help. Your brilliant radiance upon your planet and upon your brothers and sisters is all that is required to bring this change about.

You are the chosen ones and are leading the cause for a New Day. You have been here before on other planets, so you know what to expect. In fact, you have been expecting this. You have been impatiently waiting for this to occur; for people to finally wake up to the truth.

Congratulations. You have made it. Now is the time to let your Unique Light shine. The world is ready; and, for the first time in your life you know what to do. Your intuition has been much amplified, and you are truly walking hand-in-hand with Spirit.

You will be amazed what is going to form all around you once people pull together and bring the beauty and majesty of this world into focus. You have the 2020 vision. It is here and you are learning how to use the New Energy Structure to bring about peace on earth at long last.

You have been warned of events that may occur but are shifting the timeline so that these things are minimalized, and the Awakening will be right on schedule. Thank you for being here to do this work that is so greatly needed at this time.

We are very grateful that you are growing up into fine men and women. You are no longer the children of the stars. You are now growing up as a species and making rational adult decisions. Already amongst you are the ones who are making it happen.

Have you noticed how clearly the lines have been drawn? No longer is there a grey area. Now it is becoming clear as you put on your new glasses and see the world through ‘New Eyes’. The world is showing itself to you. Revealing that it is not a muddled soup of grey but in fact quite black and white. The darkness has been revealed to you so that you may heal it within yourselves and the world as a whole.

Go throughout your day with the peace and knowledge that you know what to do. Create something new. Whatever your talent is, now is the time to put it to use. The world is ready to see what you have created with your Unique talents and abilities; and you are ready to show it to the world.

Stand up and be counted. Bring that book, painting, drawing, movie, song or whatever it may be to life. Get with the others and show us what you can do. Now is the time for show and tell as you bring forth the New Creations of Light that have laid dormant within you.

The darkness is showing itself to you and telling you what to do. Now is the time to step away from that and paint a different picture; one that the world truly wants to see. We look forward to meeting you very soon…

[monkhsuns]

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse? {For all of them >:3 }

// Writing Prompt

collab: @kintsukuroi-memoir, @themyriadmen, @fogcaller

otp asks

Want to know more?   Ask!

Gerel rested in the fountain. Under different circumstances, the jellyfish that resided within may of been concerning. Yet, the witch had long developed an intolerance to their venom. In her hand was a magazine to review. Her wife was in the cover and Tenali wanted to be quite sure all the content within was up to Gerel’s level of quality. She had been immersed for nigh a bell. By the time she was on her fifth flip-through, Sunsgerel had a plethora of notes written into the clam shell on the fountain’s edge.

“How do you think we have changed each other? Erm, for the better or worse,” she asked no one in particular.

Aurhik was in his usual spot, lazing on the couch with one arm hanging off to drag the floor. Eyes blinked open and he rolled his head to the side to look towards the fountain.

“… Well, I am less of a dangerously insane arse with little empathy,” he murmured. “I would call that ‘better,’ personally.”

Hoshichou sat on the edge of the bed. Her gaze on the stars above. She searched their endlessness for answers, but when a new question came to life, she looked down to her wife instead. Lips parted about to answer before Aurhik beat her to it. She audibly snorted with disbelief. A grin formed on her lips as she turned her attention back to the stars.

“I’m alive because of you,” she pointed out. “Hard to get much better than that? Hmm…”

Chou tapped her heels absently on the wall beneath the bed. She tilted her head from side to side with dramatically pursed lips.

“This family gave my life meaning. Sure, it always had value, but what’s the point of wealth if you have nothing to spend it on?”

Pop!

Kaito’s head poked out of a cloud of mist that rolled out from under the couch. He was munching on something or another — a quick sniff would reveal the Doman was once again tearing through his stores of dried mango slices.

“My life got meaning and value as a package deal, I’d say. And, y'know, I don’t think I’d have reconnected with my ancestors, let alone my parents, if not for the lot of you.”

Aurhik’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to look up towards their bed loft. How dare she snort at his progress! He rolled over and buried his face in the couch, grumbling darkly about bratty redheads.

Maneshi had been listening silently, for the most part, sat in “his” chair and reading a book.

“Have become more of a person,” he said softly. “Beyond obvious good of now having family - not just the children, but the Monsaran as well.”

Gerel nodded to herself and glanced at her clam shell. She made a little note in it then returned her focus to the magazine. One hand pulled from the booklet and mushed against her cheek.

“If you could describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?”

“Hmm…”

Kaito climbed his way out of the mistgate on the floor, clambering onto the couch and giving the back of Aurhik’s head soft pat-pats.

“For Sunsgerel? She’s the nightlight in my life. Aurhik? Old and grumpy, but not half bad when you need an elezen around. Hoshichou? My twerpy partner in crime. And Maneshi? One of the reasons I like him is because he manages to put up with the rest of us without burning the entire estate down, somehow.”

Each opinion was fired off, quickly but not so rushed as to let the words jumble together. Doma beamed a bright grin to each of his family members.

Aurhik rolled back over to face the room.

… At least he didn’t say dhalmel.

“Your presence has gone from tolerable to familial, you are a good fit here,” he said first, pointing to Kaito.

“You,” the finger turned up to Hoshi above, “are perhaps the most shit-headed person I have ever met, but you are also the thread that binds our family together.”

“You,” Maneshi this time, “are a desperately needed bastion of calm collection and logic amidst the chaotic dealings of our lives.”

“And you,” finally it was Gerel. “Hoshi may bind us, but it was your light that guided us all together, that lets us know we are safe and loved.”

He let his hand drop and closed his eyes again. Too sleepy five him.

Maneshi surveyed the room a long moment — perhaps to wait for his blush to die down — before smiling and shaking his head, “Hm.”

“One sentence? Erm…”

Hoshi scrunched her nose up and flopped back onto the bed. She listened to the other’s contributions with a slight grin on glossed lips. Fingers drummed on the blankets as an expectant silence fell over the family. Slowly, she sat back up and shimmered with the joy of her answers.

“Maneshi is the story you can never put down because he only gets better,” she described clearly. “Aurhik’s journey to bravery is the most inspiring one I’ve had witness participating in. Kaito…  is the sunlight on a winter’s sun, the reminder that there is always joy. Sunsgerel is love.”

Maneshi felt eyes turn to him and smiled again. He took off his glasses, withdrew a cloth from a bottomless pocket and began to clean the lenses.

“Difficult,” he finally said. “People are complex, hard to summarize so succinctly. You all even more-so. Feel as if it would be a disservice, like plucking notes from a symphony. Each of you is worth more than that.”

Within the tub, Gerel listened silently. Pearls glimmered in her eyes but hadn’t toppled down her cheeks. She swallowed thickly, made a few notes into her shell, and then closed the magazine. With a final dip beneath the waters, Gerel emerged from the fountain. She was careful not to jostle the jellyfish as she stepped out from their home.

Calmly, Sunsgerel reached up and fixed the seashell that held her hair up in a bun then stepped over to her lovers. Each were given a hug that left them… slightly damp, but such was the nature of living with a creature of the depths.

“I love all of you,” she murmured as she ended up beside Hoshichou.

As they each shared their replies, the Doman crossed his leggies in and rocked from side to side. A beaming smile not unlike that very sunlight spread over his features by the end of it, and he returned Gerel’s embrace warmly. And, if anything, Kaito couldn’t say he was dehydrated anymore.

“I love all of you, too. Yes, even the dhalmel.”

Aurhik smiled sleepily when he was hugged, not at all minding the damp. He managed to return it with one arm while retaining his position of three-quarters dead on the couch.

Maneshi accepted the hug warmly, and stole a peck on Gerel’s lips for good measure.

“Love you all, too,” Shi hummed happily, which prompted Aurhik to mumble out ’yeralrightiguess’ as he dozed off.

“You would think he was sleep deprived,” Hoshi teased as she was joined.

Her tail was quick to wrap carefully around Gerel’s. Their horns were lightly tapped together. The albino was pulled into a tight embrace that flopped them both back on the bed. Blankets were yanked around the glistening moon before several kisses were pressed to her face.

“I love you, too. How’re you feeling?”

“Bundled.”

Hearing Hoshi’s tease Aurhik let out a grumble and rolled off the couch, taking the pillow he’d been resting on with him. He staggered his way up the stairs and crawled onto their bed… where he promptly flopped across the bundled lizards.

“Ack!”

Protest came from Hoshi, who promptly attempted her own attack. Teeth attempted to capture any hunk of dhalmel in their range.

Sunsgerel was more inclined to succumb to her fate. She mushed into her blanket a little more and closed her eyes. Silence was held for several minutes until a high pitched whine squeaked from below.

“I am hungry.”

• • •

Later, the clam shell that Sunsgerel wrote in was left open for her notes to be reviewed. At the very end of them, however, there were additional thoughts— specifically, she had answered the two questions that she posed her loved ones. • All of my loved ones have changed me for the better. I think…  I think that is a core part of being in a healthy relationship. Kaito inspires me to find joy in joyless places. He has overcome so much and more, and despite it all, he still finds dawn at the end of night. Hoshichou has taught me to stop living in the past and to stop chasing the future. She’s taught me that the present, the moment, is just as important to experience. Maneshi taught me that sometimes you need to get lost to be found. He taught me that there is more to us beyond our making. Finally, Aurhik. In some way, Aurhik is the reason I am who I am. But more, he taught me that…  that there is always time left.

• Truthfully, there’s no way to sum any of them up in one sentence. Maneshi had that corrent. But if I had to try?

• Hoshichou is the northern star, shining through the darkest nights, for she is the promise of home. 

• Aurhik is the blood, pumping through my veins, the strength demanding survival even in the weakest of moments. 

• Maneshi is the voice of reason amidst a sea of chaos, a sanity he has developed, and not one he mocks.

• Kaito is the promise that tomorrow will be better.

ooc :: This answer is also included, @rinrin-rinalys! 

[jancmalandra]

On first encounters with adult Moomins

Part IV: The Snork

Snork Maiden was the first to tell her brother about Moomintroll and Snufkin leaving for the South together the previous Fall. She told Snork everything that Moominmama had said to her and asked if she could hibernate at his home instead of Moominhouse. She explained that it would be too painful for her to be that close to Moomintroll's family until she had a chance to ask for his and Snufkin's forgiveness in the Spring. Snork was completely floored by the implications of what she told him.

Snork had spent his life in pursuit of scientific knowledge. That he had missed all of the signs of how Moomintroll and Snufkin felt for each other for years bothered him. He prided himself on being impartial, rational and observant, but when it came to other's emotions he had to admit that he had a huge blind spot. Perhaps it was his upbringing. His parents were cold, unfeeling, and only interested in practical results from their children. They were also nobility and determined to protect their image and standing in society from any hint of scandal, so they had tried to pass all of their prejudices on to him. Had they been more successful than Snork wanted to admit?

No; that wasn't it. He had risen up through academic circles like a meteor through his staggering intellect not just because it suited his nature, but because he wanted to rescue Snork Maiden from their parents. She was their opposite in every way; imaginative, open-minded, artistic, sensitive, sentimental, and caring. She would have withered under their direct attention, so he bore the burden of tolerating all of their intolerance instead of her until he could make his own way in the world and find a place where both him and his sister could live out their dreams in peace and happiness.

Winning his first patent for his Personal Amphibious Vehicle gave Snork the money he needed to move himself and Snork Maiden to Moominvalley for good. His family had always thought of the tiny village as a vacation spot, but Snork knew it would be the perfect refuge for the two of them. He claimed his family's vacation home as their own and vowed never to see his parents again. He had wanted nothing to do with their twisted views.

When Snork Maiden and Moomintroll had fallen in love at first sight, Snork had pinned all of his hopes for her future on the two of them marrying when they were old enough. The thought that Moomintroll could also love someone else just as much, especially Snufkin, was one that he hadn't allowed to enter his head. He thought Snork Maiden might lose her chance at happiness. He thought that Moomintroll should only choose his sister. Admitting he was wrong wasn't going to be easy.

When Snork Maiden left their house on the first day of Spring, she had told him all about her intention to build a new kind of family with Moomintroll and Snufkin. He hadn't had the courage to say anything, even to wish her well. It was all too much to take in. As lunchtime approached, Snork decided he had to face everything head on and give his blessing to the three of them, so he headed for Moominhouse, filled with determination. The last person he expected to meet on the way and to change his plans was Sniff.

Sniff ran into Snork right in front of Moomintroll and Snufkin's tents. Sniff started raving about how everyone in the Moomin family had been changed somehow and that no one in the world really wanted him around anymore. Sniff was completely incoherent with fear and sadness and was weeping uncontrollably. What was worse, he was literally fading right before Snork's eyes! Sniff's fur went from brown to dull gray, then his whole body slowly became more and more transparent!

"Stop it, Sniff!", said Snork, "You're turning yourself invisible! Hold on to my paws, and I'll take you back to my house! I'll find a way to help you, I swear! Just don't let go of me, whatever you do!"

Snork's show of compassion kept Sniff just visible enough for Snork to get him to the spare room in his home safely. Snork ran to his laboratory and got his spare lab coat for Sniff. By the time he returned to Sniff, Sniff had become totally invisible! Snork quickly put the lab coat on Sniff. It was most alarming to see a lab coat seemingly floating in midair on its own, but it was all Snork could think to do at the moment to be able to keep from losing track of Sniff. Snork couldn't think of a single test he could try, a single chemical formula he could use to help Sniff. There was only one person he could think of who could possibly help Sniff now; Moominmama.

Snork headed back to Moominhouse at top speed after strictly instructing Sniff to stay in the guest room and promising him that he was going to find a cure no matter what. As Snork approached Moominhouse's front door, he quickly collected himself and tried to appear as calm as possible. He entered the parlor to find Snufkin, Moomintroll, and his sister holding paws on the love seat and Moominpapa and Moominmama seated at the parlor table, beaming happily at the three of them. Moominmama immediately turned to Snork.

"Oh! Snork!", she said, "You wouldn't have happened to run into Sniff on your way here, would you? He left very suddenly earlier, and we're just a little worried about him."

Snork knew that he was a terrible liar, so the best that he could manage was to leave the worst of the details out of his explanation so that he could spare everyone's feelings and prevent them from making Sniff's condition worse: "Actually, I did. He was in a panic and wasn't making any sense, so I took him back to my house to look after him. I came here to tell you that he's alright. However, it would be better if he didn't have any visitors for a while. He's worked himself into quite a state and he needs a lot of time before he'll be able to see everything the right way. This isn't anyone's fault, so there's no reason for anyone to feel guilty or blame themselves. I just need all of you to be patient and trust me to look after Sniff on my own for the time being. With any luck, he'll be completely better before the Summer is over."

Snork's response was so reasonable and calm that it reassured everyone for the most part, but it did put an end to the party. Snork congratulated his sister and Moomintroll and Snufkin on their new family and gave Snork Maiden his blessing to move into Moominhouse permanently. Snufkin and Moomintroll headed back to their tents and Snork Maiden went up to Moomintroll's old room a little reluctantly, but they were all exhausted after a very exciting day, so it wasn't all that hard for Snork and Moominmama to talk them into going to bed. Snork was then left alone with Moominmama and Moominpapa.

As Snork helped the two of them clean up the dining room and do the dishes, he explained about Sniff having turned himself invisible and he asked Moominmama for her invisibility cure recipe and thanked her for helping to keep the new family calm.

"The potion does help, but not in the way that you think.", explained Moominmama, "It gives the patient the sense that they're doing something concrete to help themselves and reassures them that the person who made it for them really does care. That's the really important part; that you keep showing Sniff how much you care. That's the real cure. You don't give yourself nearly enough credit for how compassionate and caring you are. I have complete faith in you. You will bring Sniff back to us, I know it!"

Snork took Moominmama's words to heart, and as he returned home, he thought carefully about all the things that he knew brought out the best in Sniff. Sniff liked tangible rewards and the hope of riches. Like his father, The Muddler, he liked shiny buttons and any other kind of small, collectible junk. Snork had always been astonished at the good results Sniff would happily deliver if he was promised a little reward that he could hold in his paws and admire. He had always enjoyed the games he had learned as a child and had never stopped playing them. Snork was going to have to appeal to all of these things that brought Sniff happiness every day in order to help him become visible again.

When he returned home, Snork made Sniff a simple offer; a place to stay, a warm bed, good food, play times together, and a piece of eight each week plus all the random small parts he could pick up from Snork's workshop floor in exchange for doing all of the housework and cooking and helping out in the workshop every day. Sniff responded more enthusiastically and effectively than Snork had hoped. Getting used to playing games and remembering to constantly praise and comfort Sniff also came more quickly to Snork than he had expected. Within a month, Sniff was completely visible again and Snork had gained a real sense of affection for and commitment to Sniff. Snork was pleasantly surprised to learn that Sniff had come to feel the same way about him. Both of them decided that they were willing to find out what these feelings meant together and at their own pace. They just knew that their new life felt really good and that they both wanted this new way of living.

The End

[scarlvtbitch]

Love Story

Pairing: Gilbert Blythe x fem!reader

Description: This will be a multi chapter fic about the reader and Gilbert. The reader is new to Avonlea but she has a very fierce personality. She doesn’t take anything from anyone. What will happen when this fiery soul meets Gilbert Blythe?

It had been a long tiring day, or a tiring weekend. After two whole days, you and your mother had finally finished moving and organizing your belongings. You were just dreading one thought. School. Oh, how you hated the idea of having to talk to anyone.  You were more of a loner. You didn’t really like having a lot of friends and thought everyone your age was immature and way too annoying for you. Thankfully, this was your senior year. As if reading your mind, your mother asked,

“Are you excited for school tomorrow, Y/N?”

“No.” you bluntly replied. Your mother sighed.

“Y/N, I know that you pretty much don’t like anything or anyone-

“That’s not true. I like dogs.” You smirked

“-but at least try, for me.”

You sighed in defeat. “Alright mother.” You said their goodnights and parted ways. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Morning came and you really weren’t much of a breakfast girl, especially when you were so anxious, so you just grabbed an apple and headed out. Thankfully your house was pretty close to the school so that was pretty convenient for you. As you made your way, you heard footsteps crunching on the leaves.You furrowed your eyebrows and turned around to get a glance of who was there. You saw a boy who looked about your age, he was tall and had blonde hair.

“Who are you?”

“I’ll tell you my name, if you tell me yours.” Each word he said, he took a step closer.

“Look, I’m not interested in playing your stupid games. Leave me alone, you freak.” You shoved him away from you.

“Oh, you’re not getting away that easy.” He muttered. He grabbed your wrist and you were about to kick him in the groin when you heard another boy’s voice.

“Billy!”

The blonde boy, which you assumed his name was Billy, let go of your wrist and backed away from you. Your eyes slightly widened, it seemed like Billy was afraid of this boy. He was too far for you to recognize the boy but he stepped closer and you saw a better look of him. He was taller than you, had dark curly hair, pale skin and brown eyes.

“Gilbert! It’s been awhile.”

“Sure has. I would love to catch up but we can’t be tardy. Miss Stacy sure hates that. We should probably get to school, eh?”

“Yeah,” the blonde boy cleared his throat, “I was just on my way.”

After watching him disappear in the trees, the brown haired boy looked at you and took a step closer.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

“Yeah.” You replied dryly. You ignored his presence and walked right by him.

“You’re welcome.” He silently said. Not so silent that you were able to hear him. You’ve never turned around so fast in your life. Your cheeks were heating by now.

“Are you kidding me? I was doing just fine without you. I didn’t need any saving.” She harshly replied. “Now if you excuse me, I’m gonna go to class.” You started walking, again.

“Need anything else? Any dragons around here need slaying?” He teased. Oh, he enjoyed making you mad. But you weren’t going to give him that pleasure. Without turning around, you obviously couldn’t stay quiet so you snapped at him.

“I can slay them myself, thanks!” You said loud enough for him to hear.

“Hey, who are you?” Even if you were distant from each other, you were still able to hear him, you just decided to ignore him. He caught up pretty quick, though. Wow that boy can run.

“Who are you?” he repeated.

“Who are you?”

“ I asked first.” he replied.

“I asked second.” You insisted.

“You’re pretty stubborn, aren’t you?”

“One of my many amazing qualities.” You smiled.

“Alright, you win. I’m Gilbert. Gilbert Blythe.”

“I’m Y//N Y/L/N.”

“That’s a beautiful name. I’ve never heard it.”

“Another one of my amazing qualities. I told you I had many.” Gilbert let out a chuckle and he gave you a small smile.

“We’re here.” He said.

“This is...small.”

“Sure is. Bet you’re excited about meeting everyone.”

“Not really. I’m more of a loner girl. People aren’t really my thing.”

“I’m shocked.” He teased. You rolled your eyes.

Gilbert raced to the door to open the door for you. You muttered a thanks. When you got in, you noticed a group of girls on the left side of the room staring at you. You simply ignored them. You didn’t come here to be liked. So their opinion of you didn’t really matter. Gilbert stopped you and turned you towards him.

“What?” You asked, annoyed. He kept staring at you, as if your face was covered in gold.

“Nothing, just-”

“GILBERT!” A group of boys yelled and pulled him in for a hug. So, he’s pretty liked.

You took a quick glance to where all the girls were seated. You saw a red haired girl sitting down, writing what looked like a story. You chose to sit next to her. Before you could finish setting down your things she opened her mouth,

“Hi! Are you new? What a silly question, I’ve never seen you here so of course you are. What’s your name? My name’s Anne. But please make sure to spell it with an “E”. It’s much less boring that way. Where are you from? Oh, dear I’m not letting you speak. I’m oh so very sorry about that. I’m kind of like that.” Even if she was the total opposite of you and very annoying, you couldn’t help but like her.

“I’m Y/N. But you can call me Y/N/N.”

“Oh, what a marvelous name. So very enchanting, indeed.”

“You use a lot of big words, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s become such a habit.”

“It’s okay.” You slightly smiled. “I like that.” The bell rang and who you assumed was the teacher passed by you. She was a.. she? You smirked and you were secretly jumping up and down with glee. Never in your school years have you had a teacher who was a woman. You were so happy at seeing stupid rules starting to change. Everyone sat down in silence.

“Good morning everyone!” she said cheerfully, “it looks like we have a new student with us today.” Oh no. Introductions were the worst thing ever. You hated being on the spotlight. “What’s your name, Miss…”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I’m Miss Stacy. It’s really good to have you here. I hope that you like it here.” You smiled and nodded.

After the first two lessons finished, lunch time came. Finally. You grabbed your food and headed outside to sit in the corner with the fewer people. While you were eating, the same girls who were staring at you when you came in, were heading towards you. Great.

“What were you doing with Gilbert Blythe?” A blonde girl shouted..

“Something called walking together. You know, its when people move their legs in order to get from one place to another-”

“This isn’t a joke!”

“Oh, believe me I’m dead serious. Why are-”

“You can’t talk to him! You can’t even look at him. Ruby has dibs. She’s liked him for over three years.” You laughed.

“You’re joking right? Look, sunshine nobody tells me what to do. Besides he isn’t an object for you to claim. If you like him, you’re just going to have to ask him out and if he says no then your so called dibs were for nothing.”

“If you get close with him again, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh, I’m so scared.” You mockingly said. You grabbed your things and walked away from them while the girl was still talking.

“This conversation isn’t over. I’m not done talking.”

“But I am!” You shouted and smirked. This was going to be fun.

When you found a rock to sat on so you could finally eat your lunch in peace, you heard footsteps. You groaned. Not again.

“You again? I told you I’m going to talk to whoever I want-” When you turned around to see who it was, you were greeted with brown eyes and a warm smile instead.

“I don’t remember saying that.”

“Oh, I thought you were that blonde girl.” You pointed at her when you saw them in a corner spying on you.

“Josie can be..”

“Annoying? Intolerable? Rude? Yeah I got that.”

“What were they saying to you anyway?”

“The dumbest thing ever. They told me that I need to stay away from you and that I can’t talk to you. Or even look at you. I don’t know why anybody would want to.” You teased.

“Ha-ha very funny. It’s not my fault I’m so charming with my looks.”

“Keep dreaming, buddy.” You admitted to yourself that he was quite handsome though, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing. “Anyways, I told them that I will talk to whoever I want. Nobody tells me what to do.” His eyes looked at you in awe, as if he’d never seen someone so..strong and fierce. You stared into each others eyes which felt like hours. You were the first one to break away from his stare. You took a sip of your milk when Gilbert grabbed his satchel to take something out.

“Here.” he pulled out an apple and offered it to you, “I thought you might like one. They’re fresh from our orchard?” You accepted the apple and took a bite of it.

“Our?” You asked while chewing. Some would think it was improper for a lady but you never cared of what anyone said. Gilbert slightly chuckled at how cute you looked.

“Yeah. Me and my dad’s.”

“Someone having to tolerate you day and night. I pity him.” He simply rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, will you ever be able to say something nice about me?”

“We’ll see.” You gave him a small smile.

[parabcllums]

⧼    gemma chan, demiwoman, she & they   /   things we lost in the fire by bastille   +   the rain soaked, mossy ground that surrounds a sun bleached headstone. flaming red hair, piercing green eyes, willowy limbs - an intolerable tenderness carried in their features and offset against the undeniable steel beneath their skin. the heat of a bonfire on a sticky autumn night and the sparks that fly up, up, UP.    ��   ━━   let me tell you a thing or two about JEAN ELAINE GREY. the hero that goes by JEAN GREY / THE PHOENIX is a professor of PSYCHOLOGY at paragon academy in addition to being a PSYCHOLOGIST in town, and has sometimes been referred to as THE ATOM BOMB. they’ve always seemed very EMPATHETIC & ALTRUISTIC, though i’ve heard they can be pretty IDEALISTIC & HYPERSENSITIVE, too. do you think if i ask real nice, they’ll give me an autograph? redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

 ��     they’re burning all the witches,                                      even if you AREN’T one.

marvel girl. trigger warnings for talk of death throughout.

july 15th, 1965. annandale-on-hudson, new york. professor john grey and his wife, elaine, welcomed their fifth child and youngest daughter into this world. they name her jean. in her tiny hands are held a fifth of the grey family’s hopes and dreams for their future - and neither can deny the thought that little jeannie, with her tuft of flaming red hair, might just be the be all, end all.

for a very long time, she is just a GIRL, a child allowed to be a child. her red hair marks her as something different to the rest, but she doesn’t feel as if she IS - rather, how overwhelmingly normal she is. she’s smart, but not too smart. PRETTY, but so are the rest. she’s kind, and perhaps this is the most notable of her early traits - an intolerable sort of SOFTNESS, a hugeness to her heart that sometimes does more harm than good.

the littlest of the five, she finds herself running to catch up more often than not, with only roger ever slowing down for her. she and liam end up in the same grade, not for her testing out, but for him getting kept back. sara & julia tease her mercilessly, but when she ( accidentally ) ruins sara’s favorite top, the latter takes the blame, and sometimes, just sometimes, the former allows her tag along to the arcade. her siblings are her CLOSEST friends for a time, the people she spends every hour of every day with, who HAVE to tolerate her, no matter what - and then she met annie.

little annie richardson was similar to jean in a lot of ways, not just in the fact that ‘little’ was often tacked on to the start of her name. cute as a button, sharp as a tack. on the fateful november day that they met, liam was sick and home from school, and jean, miserable in his absence. she was sitting eating lunch alone, she can recall even now - and though she didn’t have to, annie, an otherwise unremarkable head of brown hair that sat a few rows behind her, in class, took it upon herself to join. that day marked the beginning of a lifetime. annie and jean became INSEPARABLE, not just at school - it turned out that she lived only a few doors down, and after their homework was done and their dinners ate, they’d spend HOURS riding their bikes and playing make believe. annie was always the princess, and jean the dashing PRINCE who saved her from the tower. when they played dolls, annie was the patient, and jean the DOCTOR. so on, so forth.

it was such a pity, then, and contrary to all of the stories that they had woven, when LITTLE ANNIE RICHARDSON was struck by a car outside of her own home. jean was only a few feet away, safe on the sidewalk a handful of seconds before tragedy - and though she was an innocent ten years old and didn’t QUITE understand the gravity of what was happening, jean knew, even then, she couldn’t just leave her. she rushed to her side and she rocked her back and forth and somewhere between the sobbing and the hoping and the praying that she could somehow help her friend, evolution leaped forwards. her mutations manifested YOUNG - and at the cost of taking her friends dying emotions unto herself and feeling every second, jean eased annie’s mind.

jean withdrew from the world - the voices in her head that didn’t belong to her too much - and there wasn’t a SINGLE therapist who could help her, after that. not the normal kind, anyway. john grey had a winning combination of connections and money to spare, but try as he and his wife might, they found no one who was able to reach their daughter through the haze of emotion that had come over her. her first experience of her powers was through DEATH. nothing good could come after that.

and then came charles xavier. he had yet to become the credible well of mutant knowledge that he would, in later life - but back then, he seemed to be jean’s only HOPE. she was twelve, by now, and a shell of who she had once been - and over coming months, with the knowledge that she was not alone and never had been, jean flourished. charles succeeded, at first, in teaching her a level of control over the powers that up until now had seemingly taken over her life, and what was more, he managed to put something of a mental block on the firerod of a memory that annie’s death was, for jean - allowing her move past that trauma, some, and begin again. she advanced so much, so fast, that he and moira mactaggart decided they could utilize her in the creation of CEREBRO ; calibrating it for use, and together, conducting field tests in search of fellow mutants. it was during this process that jean first made contact with the boy she would come to love - scott summers.

though cerebro had been a marked success, and jean appeared to have taken CONTROL, charles overwhelmed her telepathic abilities on an excursion to a shopping mall - the conflicting thoughts all becoming too much and causing her to lash out without meaning. set back miles by the incident, the professor decided to place a mental block on jean’s mind to stunt her telepathic abilities and keep them DORMANT until such a time as she was ready to control them - and after sending her home, briefly, to live a somewhat NORMAL life, convinced her parents when the time was right to allow her join the newly opened xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. she was SIXTEEN when she joined the first x-men team comprised of scott summers, warren worthington, hank mccoy and bobby drake, and the first girl to do so.

under the alias of MARVEL GIRL, and the tutelage of charles xavier,  jean began to use her telekinetic powers for good along with the rest of the team. they trained for months in the danger room beneath the mansion, preparing themselves for the inevitable - when professor x decided that they were ready to go out into the world and unveil their powers to it, fighting magneto and a whole host of other villains for the safety of humans. despite her loyalty to the professor, jean had her reservations when it came to such antics ; disagreeing, fundamentally, with the idea of children fighting a war. though she came to LOVE her teammates, each of them coming to fulfill a unique role in jean’s life - hank as big brother and closest confidant, bobby as her little brother and endearing annoyance, warren as her BEST friend and one time crush and scott as, well... even then, a beloved team leader and love interest - she HATED what they were being sent to do. though being able to use her gifts in such a practical way was a huge help in the continued lesson of control, and though she was made HAPPY by being able to help innocent bystanders, jean couldn’t entirely reconcile her differences in ideals - and when she graduated from xavier’s with the necessary high school diploma, chose to take a break from the team in order to attend metro college.

she wanted to be NORMAL, in a way - had been so, once, and sought it out again, actively - but it wasn’t until she was apart from it that jean realized how much she had really enjoyed the purpose that the x-men had given her. they were all older, now, and maybe it was that they weren’t children anymore that really swayed her to the idea of it ( or MAYBE, just maybe, it was missing the friends she had made ), but jean came to miss being a hero full time, and rejoined the team when her responsibilities allowed her take a break. on such missions, it became apparent to every onlooker that jean and scott held feelings for one another close - though neither was able to put them into words. scott feared hurting her, and jean wished he would make a move. it left them stuck, and the fact that she was only around for fleeting moments at a time didn’t help. eventually, she graduated from metro college and rejoined the team ; and though it had taken YEARS of mutual pining, scott and jean found their way to one another. 

satisfied with her progress at this time, charles released the barriers upon jean’s mind - allowing her to begin learning how to control her telepathy, and in addition to such, allowing her knowledge of certain secrets kept for the safety of the rest of the team. when the team believed him DEAD, jean was the one who knew the truth - and it pained her to keep it from the others for as long as she had to, and it was this in addition to a handful of failed missions that led to jean deciding, once again, to LEAVE the team - though her relationship with scott continued.

phoenix. trigger warnings for talk of murder & death throughout.

she wasn’t a member of the x-men when she died. she was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time - a visit to the new team ( she adored them ALL, not JUST because of association ) going wrong, resulting in them being kidnapped. brought to space by steven lang, the x-men defeated the villain as they always did and were forced to try and return home aboard a space shuttle in the middle of a solar radiation storm. the only one among them capable of learning how to fly simply by reading someone’s MIND, jean volunteered to pilot the craft even though the cockpit wasn’t shielded from radiation - allowing the others take refuge in safety as she battled the storm to get them home.

she began to succumb to the radiation.

and somewhere, the PHOENIX FORCE found her. sensing her limitless potential, the cosmic entity came to her aid - informing her that she was going to die, but that TOGETHER, it could help her attain her hearts desire. at that time, it was saving her friends. she merged with the phoenix force in the same instant as she died - the entity forming a clone of her from her consciousness and putting the real jean grey to rest in a cocoon at the bottom of jamaica bay, allowing her exist in stasis and heal from her injuries while it took her form and continued her LIFE’S WORK.

the phoenix took her place, and continued her relationship. it was IMPOSSIBLE tell the difference between her and the entity - because, for a long time, there wasn’t one. to call it a clone is to put it LOOSELY. at the moment of their merge, the phoenix and jean became one, and the force had formed a perfect replica of her, mind, body & soul. a part of her consciousness formed with the replica, the two becoming indistinguishable. 

she continued to aid the x-men and live her life, even going so far as to reveal to her parents that she was a mutant. however, after healing the m’kraan crystal and saving the UNIVERSE, her powers only seemed to GROW. while her teammates saw jean leap and bound beyond previous limitations, they didn’t see the PHOENIX at her heart.

dark phoenix. trigger warnings for talk of death & murder & suicide throughout.

in the following months, the phoenix, jean became jason wyngarde’s victim. awed by her POWER, he sought to corrupt her and turn her against the x-men through dreams and manipulation. blind to what was happening, jean fell underneath his spell and became the black queen of the hellfire club - capturing her FRIENDS along with��emma frost and the inner circle, and causing them harm before scott’s ( temporary ) death snapped her from her trance.

HOWEVER, it was too late. the dark phoenix was born from manipulation and pain, and the shade of jean grey that had been masquerading for MONTHS as the true her underwent a final transformation.

she soared through the universe, and when she came to the star d’bari, she devoured it - a TRUE display of the immense power she now wielded and the strength of the phoenix force, though the action killed an entire solar system. BILLIONS of alien creatures, dead. the star fueled her power and the dark phoenix returned to cleanse the world - burn it to ash and START AGAIN - before being thwarted, temporarily, by the combined efforts of the x-men and CHARLES XAVIER. their joy was short lived, as the shi’ar empire teleport ed them all to space, and put jean grey on TRIAL for her actions.

the x-men chose to do battle with the imperial guard for jean’s fate, but as testament to her LOYALTY and love, the shade of jean grey witnessed all that was happening and made a conscious choice. embittered by all that she had done and unwilling to watch her friends get hurt or die for her, she committed suicide in the middle of the battle - sacrificing herself ONCE AGAIN for the good of her friends.

white phoenix of the crown. talk of death throughout.

green the good, red the bad, and white to which she had yet to discover the meaning to. the portion of jean’s consciousness that had merged with the phoenix a lifetime before awoke in a space between worlds and time and space called THE WHITE HOT ROOM in a version of the iconic costume. for the first time since she had merged with the cosmic entity, the real jean grey was awake and able to THINK - though before she could come to any conclusion on what it all meant, death came to her.

it was presented with a painful paradox. though jean grey had NOT eaten a star and destroyed a galaxy, she also, in a sense, had. her PENANCE for a wrongdoing that couldn’t be entirely pinned to her was to build towers that would house the victims of the dark phoenix, and over time, this version of death informed jean that while her merging with the phoenix force had seemed RANDOM, they would not have been able to become one if they were not meant to. she was the one true host, and it belonged to her by right. 

jean completed her penance, and her version of death instructed her to return to life. to learn. dominos in effect meant that the FANTASTIC FOUR had discovered her body - and true essence - in a cocoon beneath jamaica bay, and as they studied it back at base, jean grey AWOKE and emerged.

the first thing that jean learned was that in the time that she had been dead, the world had changed. scott had moved on - marrying a woman named madelyne pryor who looked exactly LIKE her, and having a son. the x-men had moved on, and she was stunned to discover them working alongside magneto. over the next few months, she was forced to balance readjusting to life with battling a HOST of demons and situations that made it near impossible. scott abandoned his family. it turned out that madelyne was a clone designed to turn EVIL upon rejection, and jean was forced to absorb her in battle. her sister, sara, a PRO MUTANT speaker, was killed by anti mutant extremists. rachel, a mysterious new member of the team that had arrived while she was gone was revealed to be her and scott’s daughter from another timeline. scott’s SON, nathan, was kidnapped along with jean’s niece and nephew and upon being saved contracted techno virus, forcing jean and scott to send him to the FUTURE so he might be safe. then they all met CABLE, an older version of nathan from the future. 

as you can see, it was all a lot. it was a wonder that given all that was happening that jean and scott even managed to reconcile - but over time, they did, and on the lawns of xavier’s, the two reunited members of the x-men MARRIED. for their honeymoon, their consciousness’ were sent forward in time in order to raise the young nathan summers ( cable ), allowing them time as a FAMILY before they returned, ready to continue as a husband and wife duo. 

however. though they spent MONTHS fighting the good fight alongside one another, and though they did a great deal of good in that time - jean and scott’s marriage began to suffer almost immediately. though they loved each other, dearly, they had been through TOO much to be happy, now. a distance formed between them that spanned too wide for them to heal, and scott seeking help from emma frost, who in turn fell in love with him, proved to be the last straw. she had only just discovered the psychic affair when the x-men were attacked, once more, and xorn attacked her with an overwhelming electromagnetic blast. it STOPPED her heart - killing her - but it also worked as way of awakening the phoenix force, once more, and in spite of all the wrong it had done, jean agreed to aid it in finding all of it’s pieces, scattered across the omniverse.

though briefly an incomplete version of the phoenix force, in line with the DARK version of itself, returned and wrecked havok - jean grey prevailed, reminded by the collective x-men of how MUCH she was loved and reached enough that she was able to take back control, and consciously return to the white hot room. given a goodbye with scott - who reminded her that no matter what the cosmos said, she was jean grey, always - and more content than she had ever been with the knowledge of how much her family meant to her, jean vowed, in spite of the fact that as white phoenix of the crown she could CONSCIOUSLY resurrect herself, not to return until such a time as the phoenix was stable.

time displaced. 

five years ago, a younger version of the jean grey this world knew was brought forward in time alongside younger versions of each of the original team for their own safety. the mental blocks placed on this jean’s mind dissolved upon appearance in the future meaning that she accessed her power a year earlier than she should have - and was privy to knowledge of her future that no child should have had. this version of jean wanted nothing more than to avoid the tragedy of her older counterparts existence. she spent the sum of her time, here, training herself in her own powers, and trying to find a way to absolve herself of the future - avoid the phoenix, avoid the PAIN. she returned to the past, eventually ; returning with no MEMORY of all she’d done, here. it was the price that had to be paid.

jean grey.

and then, she returned. the ORIGINAL jean grey, resurrected by the phoenix force, without memory of herself, or her life. for weeks she was trapped in a small bubble of existence in new mexico, and though she continued to be subtly manipulated, subconsciously, jean knew that the world she was living in was a farce - sending psychic flares for help out into the real world in form of projections of tragedies of the past. saved by her friends in due time, jean RENOUNCED the phoenix’s ways - choosing life over it. 

she has returned now, herself, and for the first time in a LIFETIME, jean gets to be who she has always wanted to be. she gets to LIVE, and for her, this means becoming a teacher and psychologist at paragon, working to do good. she cannot erase her past, but she can form her future ; and this time, jean intends to. 

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS

jean remains the world’s most iconic redhead ; though in my version, her hair color comes from her MUTATION. it was the earliest indication that her parents had their youngest daughter was going to be something more, though neither could have predicted by just how much. 

in a way, she chose never to have children. though she briefly entertained the idea of having RACHEL in this timeline, jean shudders to think about her children going through what she did with the phoenix force due to the blood that runs in their veins and nothing more. she always preferred NOT putting them through that - though she would be lying if, in addition to that, a part of the choice has been taken from her since all she’s ever really done is... die. for NOW, she’s content. she thinks of nathan ( cable ) and nate as her sons, she thinks of rachel as a daughter ( though she struggles a bit here, sometimes ). now that she is somewhat free and has this second chance at life, jean DOES consider her future, and children.... but she’s happy to see where life takes her.

she was dead for TEN years - bar a few brief appearances back on earth, both in search of phoenix fragments and in order to keep the phoenix in check. finally... the jean/scott/emma timeline makes sense. the phoenix brought her back in late 2017, and it was midway through 2018 that she finally began sending out her own PSYCHIC FLARES.

per the grey family massacre, jean is now the last of them - it’s very sad, so pour one out.

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

patients !! ppl she’s talking to routinely to help them thru their traumas !!

but specifically : a little group of ppl who have all died and come back ( doesn’t matter for how long. years like jean ?? months ?? weeks ?? an hour ?? ) and want to try and work through the trauma associated w that. jean can lead them all in a sort of ... group therapy thing. she’s died MULTIPLE times and come back so rly ... she’s a good option

friends !! and not just, like... canon friends. ppl who she’s friends w now

peoPLE WHO KNEW TIME DISPLACED HER !!! that’s a fun connect. gimme ppl who were like... genuinely friends w little jean and are now like ?? the fuc

anything you’ll give me, frankly

[baekthecorgi]

you’re the cure, you’re the pain (doyoung) genre: college au, med student au, fluff (a quick glimpse of premed!doyoung) words: 3k w. summary: dating a med student has got to be the hardest feat one could ever encounter.

*terms defined at the end

you first meet doyoung at the library on your third year in university. not exactly meet as in meet, it was more of a see doyoung dozing off on top of his thick books at the coldest, most secluded section of the library where you often spend your time studying for your lessons. his hoodie was zipped all the way up to protect him from the cold. you notice how his oversized hoodie covered the spines of his books so you were left clueless about his course.

it became a thursday thing to spot a certain hooded figure slumped over the same trio of books that you found yourself looking forward to thursdays instead of fridays. which was weird actually because all uni students looked forward to the end of the week. all except you.

one fateful thursday afternoon, you find mr. sleepy head in an all-white uniform, still in dreamland, but this time, his head was stuck between pages 124 and 125. you take a quick peek of the book’s header. in bold, all caps, it read: Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). the scattered sticky notes on the surface indicated that he was in the middle of his thesis. before you pry further, mr. sleepy head shifts his position. you hurriedly fumble back to your seat. mr. sleepy head reveals his haggard yet captivating face towards your direction.

judging from the nameplate on his chest, white uniform, and the DSM-5, you figure out mr. sleepy head’s a graduating psychology student. when he showed no signs of waking up, you make a beeline to where he is. you were near to study his features but far enough to not look like a preying stalker. his raven locks stuck out in different directions, and his bangs swooped down which highlighted his sharp jawline. the white uniform highlighted his broad shoulders which you thought were wider than the pacific ocean (if that even is a thing). there were bags under his eyes but you guessed, even with eyes closed, that mr. sleepy head has those sincere eyes which would make any individual fall in deep.

“are you planning to stare at me the whole day or are you gonna help me with my rrl*?” said guy mumbles, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine. mr. sleepy head opens his eyes, his piercing gaze seemingly passing through you. “do you have any business here?”

“i-i’m sorry, i-i didn’t mean to stare, uhm,” you stutter. glancing at his nameplate, you continue, “kim doyoung? oh, uh, doyoung. sorry, again. i’ll go if that makes you comf–”

“nah, it’s fine i’m just messing with ya,” doyoung snickers, waving it off. “though you might want to practice your staring. it’s not exactly subtle.” you feel heat creeping through your cheeks.

“i’m guessing you’re a third year biology major?” you nod at his inquiry. “and i’m betting this is your private study corner?” you nod once again.

“how’d you know?”

“your materials are all splayed out like you own the place. those are a third year bio student’s books. i have friends from bio too, y'know,” doyoung tells. “i’m also good at studying people’s expressions. perks of being a psych major. in your case, you bite your lower lip when you tell the truth. well, what i hope is the truth.”

you reply with a, “i’m not good at lying.”

doyoung raises a brow as if doubting your words. he retorts, a gummy smile plastered on his face, “aside from your expressions, well, you’re not the only one stealing glances.”

you wanted to bang your head on the wall. was mr. sleepy head flirting with you? did he stare back at you all those past thursdays? oh my god, your head was spinning at the theories crossing your mind. it was only when doyoung cleared his throat that snapped you back to reality.

“i’d love to stay and chat, but i have clinical psych in ten minutes. fifth floor, room 2-4. ends in two hours,” doyoung says in a monotonous tone exactly the way his psych professors him. detached is what they would always remind their students to be, but with you, doyoung might just have to make an exception.

you ask, confused at the details thrown at you, “why are you telling me this?”

“maybe i wanna practice reading people more, or maybe i wanna spend my late night coffee run with the girl who’s been staring at me for like, four thursdays, while i get to know her more and try to cram for my departmental exam tomorrow. pick your poison,” and with that said psychology major doyoung flashes you a mischievous grin as scrambles over his things, stuffing them down his knapsack.

“see you in two hours?” doyoung confirms and you agree. he takes his exit, or what seems to be his exit because he retracts his steps and calls you. “good luck on your zoology quiz. hope you ace it!”

your friends have already warned you on psychology majors. more on dating psychology majors. “they’re just plain weird. it’s like they’re always reading your mind”, they’d always say. your encounter with doyoung proved their hypotheses true. your first ever talk with the weirdly attractive doyoung made you want to form your own conclusions and not from someone else’s.

maybe that’s why you ended up meeting doyoung in front of his last class and spend the entire night chatting away at a 24/7 café. half of it was the actual getting to know each other cliché. you found out doyoung added an extra shot of espresso to his coffee nowadays as his tolerance level rose from all the night shifts during OJT*. his brother was a law student and doyoung, on the other hand, was an aspiring med student. doyoung was lactose intolerant but he absolutely loves cheesecakes, blueberry especially. doyoung knows he’s weird because his roommate, taeyong, fights him about it all the time.

the other half was spent on doyoung tutoring you on biochemistry, ranting for a good thirty minutes on why he chose his stupid thesis proposal when it clearly lacked the studies to back it up, and doyoung snuggling against your arm on the wee hours of the morning.

three months of caffeine overdose and two breakdowns later (it alternates between you and doyoung, depends on who has a dickhead professor), doyoung finally asks you to be his girlfriend in his cramped bedroom. you wholeheartedly say YES!!!! before doyoung even gets to the question. tackling your boyfriend down on his bed, you pepper him with what seems to be a thousand kisses. you spend an hour of making out, then listening to taeyong scolding you both for making out and explicitly moaning for half an hour on the other side of the door, and waking up late on doyoung’s chest, inhaling his musky scent first thing in the morning. it was nothing less than perfect–your relationship, your boyfriend.

(doyoung misses an exam that day but to hell with that, it’s been a long time since he last fell in love. he’d rather hold you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings to your ear at 7AM rather than sulking over a test with a 45% passing rate.)

dating doyoung was so exhausting, you sometimes wonder why you even considered that as an option.he’d piss you off with bio jokes he steals from taeyong on a daily basis. you even tried to coax taeyong from sponsoring doyoung with lame biology jokes but the former also takes joy in pissing you off.

“here comes my Trypanosoma cruzi,” doyoung cooes when he spots you walking towards the sofa.

“i’m not in the mood for jokes, baby,” you snap back but doyoung only squishes your cheeks with his soft lips.

“really? i doubt it. you always find your way back to my heart,” doyoung sends a flirty wink to which you roll your eyes to. he’s cheesy like this.

“doyoung, that’s rude. first of all, i’m not a parasitic bug burrowing through heart muscles. second of all, people are dying because of that bug. third of all, i hate you because that was hella smart.”

“you still love me, though.”

“well, you’re not wrong about that.”

it wasn’t until doyoung graduated and entered med school that you realized relationships aren’t full of rainbows and unicorns. you had small, petty fights with your boyfriend, of course, but this time it was different. with you busy with your thesis and doyoung struggling as a first year med student, everything seemed like a big, fiery heap of mess. both of you were quite new with the whole set-up. of lacking time for each other. of prioritizing academics over your significant other. of having study dates without any conversation at all. or simply, having no dates in weeks.

falling in love was easy to do, almost effortless. it was staying in love that was arduous, puzzling, and just difficult. staying in love is a commitment. it was an everyday choice to love doyoung without expecting anything back.

loving a med student was a hard feat. it takes guts, it takes bravery, it takes courage to love one and to stay in love with one.

time was the one thing doyoung can’t give to you. of course, he spends time with you, going out for dates and whatnot, but most of the time it means sacrificing a part of his academics so you don’t demand much of it as much as you did before.

you always catch him pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose bridge as he tries his best to stuff information in his brain. you were sure his mind was overloading with names of bones, chemical formulas, symptoms, diseases, god knows what more’s inside it. doyoung barely functions as a normal human being anymore. most of the time, he skips buying lunch to answer samplexes*, highlighting transes* to study for his exam which he had every. single. day. so you make it a daily habit to pack him lunch with whatever he was craving, tightly wrapped and ribonned with a pink cloth.

as a thank you, doyoung never fails to leave the apartment or sleep without placing a gentle kiss on your lips. saying “i love you” tenderly was a very kim doyoung thing to do and you’d feel your heart flutter like the first time you had your coffee date.

most of the time, you’d confiscate doyoung’s coffee, snatching it away from his hands. sulking, he’d complain, “babyyyy, i need my caffeine. there’s a shifting exam* tomorrow. please, baby, please!”

you won’t succumb to his pleads even if you’re on the verge of handing him back his drink. doyoung was basically immune to caffeine at this point so it was rather useless for him to drink more.

“take a nap, baby. it’s better than coffee intake. i promise i’ll wake you up in an hour,” you beg to which he shakes his head. “for me? please? you really need it.”

doyoung finally agrees only because your voice sounded worried as fuck and he wants to be the least of your worries, but also because you were right. he needed some sleep. needless to say, you became doyoung’s personal alarm clock. an alarm clock with 8AM classes.

but you were only a living, breathing human with feelings just like kim doyoung. it wasn’t unusual to crave for affection and reassurance. medical school was eating your boyfriend alive that it left you with crumbs of what’s left with doyoung. you weren’t needy, desperate for attention, so it would be nice for boyfriend to compromise once in a while. nice to be cuddled, kissed, made love to like there weren’t requirements to pass and exams to study for the very next day.

it would be nice to be top of doyoung’s priorities even for a split second.

“doyoung, baby, let’s cuddle!” you softly cry, carressing his cheek. you were chilling on his lap. he massages your jet black tresses, eyes buried deep in Guyton & Hall’s “Textbook in Medical Physiology”.

he hums, “later, baby. i’ll just finish a chapter.”

“but you read slow”

“i’m trying to concentrate, baby. let’s talk later,” doyoung scans the page one last time before flipping it.

frowning, you pluck the thick book away from his hand in frustration. “i’m not asking for twenty four hours with you, doyoung! i just want five minutes of your goddamn time! i wanna cuddle and kiss the life out of you, god i’d be perfectly okay with having a conversation without the scientific shit you’ve been studying about because fact check! lately, it seems like you don’t give a flying fuck about me. you don’t care about what i think, what i do, i mean, do you still care about me, doyoung? are you willing to spare me a glance for, i don’t fucking know, a minute of your attention? because that’s what i do, doyoung. others wouldn’t have gotten this far with you, but i did because i fucking love you! god, i’m head over heels for you, baby, because i choose you. every single day. and i just want to know if the person i’m choosing still chooses me cause if not, we might as well break up.”

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t know you felt that way,” your boyfriend stutters. “i-i’ve been failing almost all my AnaPhy* exams and now i’m about to lose you a-and–”

in a blink, doyoung has his palms covering his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. you didn’t expect to blow up the pent up frustrations welling up inside you for months. you didn’t mean spewing those harsh words. instantly, you envelope him in a reassuring hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. doyoung buries his head on the crook of your neck. it’s a hug that’s warm and homely. one that says sorry for being such an idiot blowing up at you like this. one that provides him complete comfort, and not only support, but also acceptance.

the night ended with loving kisses and a voice of strength which became doyoung’s guiding light through the horrid horror that is medical school.if you thought dating a med student was hard, it was nothing compared to dating an intern. it was like dating a ghost.

sometimes, you’d come home late at night to the inoccupancy of the other side of the bed. sometimes, you’d wake up for work and catch sight of a clearly exhausted doyoung, lightly snoring from his night duty. you take a few moments, staring at your boyfriend’s peaceful aura, the same way you did a few years back at the library. before leaving, you secure a soft kiss on his pink lips, never forgetting to mumble an “i love you” even when he can’t hear your words.

when you do find your schedule synchronizing with doyoung’s you find yourself elated an excited with his daily medical adventures.

“patients complain about having to eat hospital food for three days but imagine having to eat it for your whole career”

"baby, i literally give you two packed lunches what the hell”

“oh shit. i have to explain myself now, don’t i?”

other times, it would be like:

“i nearly dropped this scalpel into the patient’s abdomen. can you stop looking at me like THAT?”

“why the fuck is everything in the hospital broken?” he complains, massaging his forehead. you reply, “baby, you’re a doctor. it’s literally your job to fix people.”

“well, shit,” doyoung sighs. he breathes in a gust of air when you let out a hearty laugh. you jeer, “you might have a MD at the end of your name but you’re dumb sometimes.”

but most of the time, your conversations would go like this:

“are you stressed?” you ask, entangling your limbs over his.

“i’ve been paged five times in the last two minutes, i delivered a baby in surgery today, resuscitated two patients, and haven’t slept in 48 hours. so, yes, forgive me if i’m a little on edge.”

“that’s okay, baby. we can have a nap date today.” he pecks the back of your hand, sighing. you take this as a sign to languidly kiss him on the lips this time.

one time, while driving him home from a spontaneous roadtrip with your boyfriend, you spot the oncoming heavy traffic flow. there has been a car collision causing the road blockage and the slow traffic flow. the vehicles were being towed to the side of the road when the people helping, retreated the injured victims.

once doyoung spots the lack of medical attention, he commands, “baby, pull up. i have to help them.”

slamming the car door close, doyoung rushes to the victims. he kneels down, examining the injuries and pressing lightly on all the right spots. he looks up at the confused expressions of the people surrounding him. “don’t worry, i’m a doctor. now does somebody have a pen? i have to perform an emergency tracheostomy*. this lady has an obstructed airway.”

after the ambulance arrived, you pull a hazy doyoung in a comforting hug. it’s his first time handling a case outside the hospital, his palms were all sweaty.

“i thought i was gonna lose all of ‘em,” he mumbles into your neck. you laugh at his nervous voice, rubbing circles on his back.“

this is the exact reason why you’re a doctor. you saved them, baby,” you pull him off, placing both your palms gently on his cheeks. “i’m proud of you.”

“i love you, baby,” doyoung declares. he says it without hesitation, without doubts. he wears his words as a thank you. for never giving up on loving him, for choosing to love him even when he doesn’t deserve it.

you’ve overcome so much hardships in your relationship with doyoung that looking back, you realized everything was worth it. doyoung was worth it. love was worth it.

–

note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME BIIIIIIITCH IM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS SJKDFHKSJDHF shoutout to the anon who freaked out and requested this!!! ugh med student doyoung in an all-white uniform would be so HOT istg,, i would love to get feedbacks

masterlist is on my bio soooo check it out !! tumblr’s being a little bitch bc when i put the link the post disappears from the tags grr

disclaimer: i’m not a med student. this is based on our country’s education system so it’s not exactly accurate with others.

RRL = Review of Related Literature; the selection and annotation of available documents which contain information, ideas, data and evidence related to the topic that a person proposes to research on

OJT = on the job training; it’s what graduating students do before, during or after thesis. and yes, it’s part of the grade.

Samplex = sample exams or corrected test questionnaires; also from higher batches

Trans = transcribed notes from higher batches; an outline of doctors’ lectures & ppts

AnaPhy = Anatomy & Physiology class

Shifting Exam = taken in each subject; much like departmental quizzes answered in 30 mins during lunch time

Tracheostomy =  a medical procedure that involves creating an opening in the neck in order to place a tube into a person’s windpipe

[sawbuckplus]

Kimmel is a vile human being.

[lvmiieres]

´   ･   .   ✶   ⧼    maddison   jaizani,   demiwoman,   she   &   they   /   s.l.u.t.   by   bea   miller,   clothes   strewn   around   an   otherwise   tidy   room,   worn   pointe   shoes   placed   with   care   upon   the   nearest   soft   surface.   dark   hair   pulled   back   into   messy   ponytail   with   a   pink   scrunchie,   lacy   bralettes   worn   beneath   warm   wool   jumpers   in   pastel   colors.   the   soft,   crackling   sound   of   etta   james   coming   through   on   a   floral   patterned   record   player.    ⧽   ━━   don't   look   now,   but   that's   the   coquette,   also   known   as   MARIE-RENOIR   NOÉMIE   LUMIÉRE.   i   heard   their   father   is   LUMIÉRE,   the   casanova   of   all   candelabras.   the   TWENTY   ONE   year   old   is   a   junior   at   auradon   university   and   is   majoring   in   EDUCATION.   they've   always   been   CONGENIAL   &   SAGACIOUS   &   AUDACIOUS   ;   but   i've   heard   they   can   be   pretty   PERTINACIOUS   &   INSCRUTABLE   &   ACERBIC,   too.   you   can   check   out   their   stat   page   HERE   and   their   pinterest   board   HERE.

there   was   something   SOFT   &   MOIST   about   her,                                a   dare,   a   rage,   an   intolerable   tenderness.

SECTION ONE OF THREE : BIOGRAPHY

she is the bridge between two cultures. the connecting sinew of two different worlds. marie-renoir noémie lumiére is born in the midst of her parents honeymoon period on a dewy winter morning. her father is committed to monogamy, until he isn’t. her mother is content, until she is not. they are HAPPY, until they aren’t. looking back, the fault lies on no one’s shoulders in particular. the problem lay not with them as individuals, but them as a partnership - a lesson, in it’s own way, that good friends should try to avoid that leap into romance that they thought would take them all the way. by the time that she is celebrating a year of LIFE, her mother and father have amicably split ; no hard feelings, just endless respect. custody is verbally agreed, not bitterly battled. her father can ensure the finest education, the finest things in life - summers will be spent with her mother, while the rest of the year she will call her father’s abode her home. they grow up with two languages flowing fluently from their tongue, with an appreciation for each half of THEMSELVES that few people possess in full.

the time spent with her mother is spent soaking up the sun and being the child that they are. summers are freedom, in their books, from all the expectations of the rest of the year. burdens that certainly feel like so, though they try to act as if they don’t. at home with their father, they are privately educated and expected to excel. this is fine. they can take that pressure on their shoulders with grace, they think, so long as they are always able to dance. it’s an unexpected talent. in day to day, they are clumsy - even as a child, they bumped their head and scratched their knees in an all manner of avoidable accidents. they will never be one to wear heels in fear of toppling, and so, the insistence to be enrolled with a local company after watching a performance of swan lake makes her father chuckle. he expects her to quit when she realizes that she isn’t capable of such delicate movements and graceful twirls, but six months later when he sits in the audience and witnesses her perform in don quixote, he is not able to hide the TEARS that spring to his eyes. so begins a lifetime of ballet lessons four times weekly, recitals every other month. they swiftly become one of the company’s most prized students, a prima ballerina in all ways but title. they are known to be clumsy, and they laugh along with others who poke harmless fun - but when they tie their pointe shoes on and step onto a stage, they are something different. something beautiful. something world ending.

their mother remarries. their father does not. they love their stepfather and later on, their little half siblings with all of their might - they tolerate half of their fathers conquests, though some leave truly lasting impressions. still, there is no ill will, and every christmas they gather as one to celebrate. it is strange, she thinks. this set up that they have. as they grow older, as they share details with their friends, they are told and they realize that people don’t think that it’s exactly normal. she asks her mother, one day, why she smiles so widely at the new partner on her fathers arm each year. why she isn’t hurt by his actions. why she didn’t stay. she’s genuinely CURIOUS, and her mother doesn’t treat the subject as taboo - she fixes a soft expression in place that is reserved just for her, and the words she says form a key part of noémie’s character : your father’s heart is simply too big for just one person, and mine is not. i’ll always love him. he’ll always love me. it’s no ones fault that the way we love wasn’t compatible.

they think, later, that they relate a little bit to that sentiment. that aside from natural confidence, they might just have inherited that too big heart from their FATHER, too. they’re electric. growing close to people isn’t hard when you’re a magnetic force, and noémie is never without company. she values deep connection, the most. she doesn’t think that she could ever fall for someone who didn’t know her blind. but she learns, as she grows, that she enjoys fleeting romance. even if she knows that she won’t allow it last, it is still nice to be entwined with another’s life, for a time.

SECTION TWO OF THREE : OVERVIEW

born marie-renoir noémie lumiére on february 20th, 1998, to eustache lumiére & fontaine la croix. her mother and father - good friends for years - married in the summer of ‘97 due to a medical condition known as ‘pregnancy’. they amicably split six months after noémie’s birth.

their custody arrangement involved emmy living with lumiére from september to late may, as his job and social standing assured the greatest upbringing for her. her mother took her from june through august.

no real drama, parents wise. her mother remarried and had twin daughters a few years later, and lumiére remained a player. the two continued to get along like a house on fire for noémie’s entire life, and joined one another for multiple holiday’s during the year. 

suffered from bacterial meningitis as a child, resulting in a loss of hearing in her right ear. 

expectations were rampant, but lumiére meant well. he wanted a good life for her, so he pushed her to excel. this was all well and good, given that she certainly had the capacity for it, but it has left her with a perfectionist complex in adult life.

found her first love in ballet, and has yet to really find a second. she’s one of her company’s most prized jewels, and holds the honor of being the student with the most starring roles under her tutu. her dance talent shocks EVERYBODY who knows her due to her undeniable clumsiness in day to day life, but that doesn’t really matter.

they were an early bloomer, so to speak, and this has been a blessing and curse. they’ve always been comfortable with who they are. other people have not. 

SECTION THREE OF THREE : HEADCANONS

noémie loves love, but perhaps is not as built for it as she would like. she gets a certain thrill from flirtation and she enjoys being with people. it isn’t a crime, she thinks, to date often and never truly commit. there have, of course, been those who have treated it as such. she’s not a stranger to slurs, and she knows that there are certain rumors ( some of which there’s truth to ) spread of her, routinely. but no one raised primarily by the casanova that lumiére is has much SHAME attached to who they are.

she has gone by noémie for so long, sometimes even she forgets that it isn’t her GIVEN name. she can thank her paternal grandmother for the clunky first name that she has never quite enjoyed ; she died the same week that she was BORN, missing her grandchild’s arrival into the world by little more than a day. it was meant to be an honor, she’s told, but if it was… then why did it weigh her down so much? perhaps it offended her father, in a way, but at least noémie was hers.

she had just turned four when she was struck down with bacterial meningitis. her mother thought that it was nothing but a summer flu, but when her fever began to reach unheard of heights, the PANIC set in. the doctor who saw to her insisted she be brought to the nearest emergency room immediately, and she didn’t see the outside of that hospital again until two weeks had passed. she survived UNSCATHED, at least - in a sense. single sided deafness in her right ear, specifically. her parents were told that she was incredibly lucky that she was even alive, and that they should be grateful for such a small price. they didn’t feel the way they were told they should, but they certainly passed on the sentiment to their little girl when she grew and wondered why she was not quite the same to the other kids she knew. her mother learned bsl and her father learned lsf, and she learned enough in both to make her life that little bit easier. it was by no means easy - the learning or the life that followed - but she was young and adaptable, and it served as a harsh reminder that sometimes, the world will take. in her mid teens, she underwent the surgery to implant a transcranial cros - a bone anchored hearing aid, to you and i, that provided a MARKED improvement.

she’s never actually had a relationship, completely by design. she’s never DATED. noémie enjoys flings, she enjoys flirtation, she loves sex - but she won’t put herself in a position to disappoint someone when she can’t be what they want her to be. she’s open with anyone she finds herself involved with. no strings attached, non exclusive, it’s never going to go anywhere. anyone who doesn’t listen, anyone who ends up hurt because they believe she’ll change her mind.... that’s on them.

she can be quite... vain, to put it mildly. you have to keep in mind that noémie is someone who has been set up from a young age as... a real beauty. her looks have been valued, even if she has not been. she’s aware that she’s conventionally attractive, and she’s aware that it makes her life easier in a lot of ways. it does not, however, help her to be taken more seriously in life. 

her grade point average is in the top tenth percentile, a standing she’s maintained for years. not only is she BEAUTY, but she’s also quite literally brains. 

she’s all shorts and bralettes beneath soft knit sweaters. she smells of lavender and cedar, exclusively. she’s ONLY comfortable when she’s wearing her pointe shoes. 

[secrecykept]

Character Flaws Meme

No one is perfect, so every character has their flaws. Write down your muse’s six worst Tragic Flaws and how they embody them, and tag your friends. Feel free to use [this list of character flaws] if you want!

Tagged by: meself again Tagging:

Absent-minded – Preoccupied to the extent of being unaware of one’s immediate surroundings. Daydreaming, inattentive, oblivious, forgetful.

He can be very inwardly focused, often daydreaming and getting lost in thought. Or he can be so focused on something that he forgets all else. In both cases, he can come across as absent-minded, distracted, and neglectful of himself.

Blunt – Characterised by directness in manner or speech; without subtlety or evasion. Frank, callous, insensitive, brusque. /  Tactless – Lacking or showing a lack of what is fitting and considerate in dealing with others.

As an honest and direct kinda person, he can be a bit too blunt. He is quite a loner, not used to much socialising or interacting with people, so he doesn’t always say the ‘right’ thing and can be tactless with what he blurts out, especially when feeling under pressure.

Fanatical – Outlook or behaviour especially as exhibited by excessive enthusiasm, unreasoning zeal, or wild and extravagant notions on some subject. /  Fixated – In psychoanalytic theory, a strong attachment to a person or thing, especially such an attachment formed in childhood or infancy and manifested in immature or neurotic behaviour that persists throughout life. Fetish, quirk, obsession, infatuation. /  Obsessive – An unhealthy and compulsive preoccupation with something or someone. /  Perfectionist – A propensity for being displeased with anything that is not perfect or does not meet extremely high standards.

His fixation and obsession with the unknown and supernatural leads him to a little on the fanatical side, showing that excessive enthusiasm and wild notions. He is a perfectionist when it comes to organising his resources, especially his books and notes. The way he arranges things and takes such care further shows his obsession.

Fierce – Marked by extreme intensity of emotions or convictions; inclined to react violently; fervid. /  Stubborn – Unreasonably, often perversely unyielding; bull-headed. Firmly resolved or determined; resolute.

When it comes to justice, morals, and the protection of others, he is absolutely fierce and intense, so stubborn that nothing can sway him. When he thinks he’s doing the right thing or is on the right track, he is an immovable bull.

Gullible – Will believe any information given, regardless of how valid or truthful it is, easily deceived or duped. /  Idealist – One whose conduct is influenced by ideals that often conflict with practical considerations. One who is unrealistic and impractical, guided more by ideals than by practical considerations. / Soft-hearted – Having softness or tenderness of heart can lead them into trouble; susceptible to pity or other kindly affection. They cannot resist helping someone they see in trouble, suffering, or in need, and often don’t think of the repercussions or situation before doing so.

As he is so open minded, he can be rather gullible, willing to entertain most ideas and concepts at least for a moment. His idealism and eternal hope can also lead him to be gullible, as he does try to believe the best of people despite contrary or previous evidence. He is always willing to give someone a chance, and his soft heart has him willing to do things for strangers or anyone who needs help.

Impatient – Unable to wait patiently or tolerate delay; restless. Unable to endure irritation or opposition; intolerant. /  Reckless – Heedless. Headstrong. Foolhardy. Unthinking boldness, wild carelessness and disregard for consequences. /  Troublemaker – Someone who deliberately stirs up trouble, intentionally or unintentionally.

While generally a relaxed person, when he thinks he’s close to a breakthrough or exciting event, he can be impatient and reckless. He’s aware of how fast the supernatural creatures can move, so he never wants to waste a second when he thinks he’s getting close to one, he doesn’t want to miss his opportunity. His impatience and recklessness can get him into trouble, and his curiosity gets him into it too. He goes where his heart leads him, even if its into a restricted area.

Practical – Level-headed, efficient, and unspeculative. No-nonsense. 

Almost contradicting the above, he can be very practical at times. He might be charging ahead into a situation without a plan, but he’s most likely got his bag of supplies with him, which is full of all sorts of useful things. He likes to be prepared for as many eventualities as possible. He can overthink things in this way and might end up overloaded with things he thinks he might need. And when it comes to the care of other people, he is on the overly practical side again, thanks to his grandma, so he’s the (mom) friend that’s always telling you to bring a coat in case its cold/rainy outside, and he always has an extra snack handy.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Making Up by Helena Hunting

Shacking Up #4

Cosy Felton is a college student working in an adult toy shop to make ends meet. When Griffin Mills stops by the store to buy a list of items for a bachelor party Cosy makes a less than fun shopping trip a lot less embarrassing. As Griffin is drawn to Cosy he returns later to ask her on a date...and though she says no they do eventually go out. For awhile the eleven year age difference seems it might be a stumbling block but not for long...nope...soon other things seem to pop up that cause problems. There are ups and downs in their relationship but throughout the story it is impossible NOT to see them together.

What I liked:

* Griffin: WONDERFUL book boyfriend!

* Cosy: a nice balance to Griffin and his soul mate

* The meet cute

* The way the two usually ended up talking things out rather than giving up

* The steamy scenes

* Griffin’s family

* Knowing how the characters were feeling and what they were thinking – first person dual points of view

* How it all worked out

What I did not like: * Imogen – Griffin’s Ex-fiance

* Armstrong – Griffin’s cousin

* The drama of the ups and downs though they did allow for a lot of making up

* All the comments about the age difference although there were times Cosy seemed younger than 22

Did I like this book? Yes

Will I read more in the series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4.5 Stars

Synopsis:

A new standalone, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy by New York Times bestselling author Helena Hunting.

Cosy Felton is great at her job—she knows just how to handle the awkwardness that comes with working at an adult toy store. So when the hottest guy she’s ever seen walks into the shop looking completely overwhelmed, she’s more than happy to turn on the charm and help him purchase all of the items on his list.

Griffin Mills is using his business trip in Las Vegas as a chance to escape the broken pieces of his life in New York City. The last thing he wants is to be put in charge of buying gag gifts for his friend’s bachelor party. Despite being totally out of his element, and mortified by the whole experience, Griffin is pleasantly surprised when he finds himself attracted to the sales girl that helped him.

As skeptical as Cosy may be of Griffin’s motivations, there’s something about him that intrigues her. But sometimes what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas and when real life gets in the way, all bets are off. Filled with hilariously awkward situations and enough sexual chemistry to power Sin City, Making Up is the next standalone in the Shacking Up world.

Excerpt

We’re a couple of minutes away from my apartment, which also means we’re almost at the end of our date. End-of-date protocol often means a goodnight kiss.

And I’ve eaten onions. Lots of them. What the hell was I thinking? I feel around in my shorts pocket, hoping I have a random stick of gum. I find a tiny square packet and pull it out, along with an old tissue. I shove that back in my pocket and sigh with relief as I carefully open the Listerine Pocketpak. There’s one strip left. I pop it in my mouth, wishing I had water since my mouth is dry and I’m suddenly super nervous.

Griffin pulls up in front of my apartment building. I swallow a bunch of times, trying to get the strip to dissolve on my tongue and glance out the tinted window, seeing it from his perspective. I don’t live in a bad part of town, but I sure as hell wouldn’t leave this car sitting out here for any length of time unless I wanted it keyed or stripped down.

Griffin shifts into park and turns to me, one hand resting on the back of my seat near the headrest. “I had a great time, Cosy.”

“Me too, thanks for dinner.” I tried to fork over my share, but he was quick on the credit card draw.

“It was my pleasure.” He leans in the tiniest bit, a nonverbal cue that he’s going in for a kiss.

I mirror the movement, giving him the go ahead. My stomach flutters in anticipation. I exhale slowly through my nose. Even though the Listerine strip should be doing its job to mask the onions, I don’t want to ruin the moment by breathing that in his face.

His fingertips skim my jaw, and I close my eyes. And then his lips brush my cheek. I wait for them to move a couple of inches to the right, but after what feels like a lot of seconds—and is probably only a few—I crack a lid.

Griffin is still close, a wry smile on his lips and a smolder in his eyes.

“Seriously, that’s it? A kiss on the cheek?”

His smile widens, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s nothing like the guys I usually end up on dates with. College boys don’t take things slow. If I were out with one of the guys from school, I’d be sitting in a beat-up Civic with some stupid music playing, and he’d be all over me with his tongue halfway down my throat, copping a feel.

“I thought all the onions you ate were the equivalent to garlic for vampires.” Griffin fingers my hair near my shoulder. I’d really like him to finger something else. Wait. I mean I’d like to feel his hands on me. Not in my pants. Okay, maybe I’d like them in my pants, but not after date number one.

“I wasn’t thinking, and I really like onions. A lot. In hindsight, it’s not a great date food. I feel kinda dumb. And I guess at first I wasn’t so sure about you. How was I supposed to know you’d actually be kind of normalish?”

“Normalish?”

“Well, you drink club soda on purpose, so you can’t be all there.” I tap his temple.

Griffin circles my wrist with his fingers and drops his head, lips brushing over my knuckle. “We can’t all be perfect, now, can we?”

“I suppose not, and perfect is boring.”

“That it is.” He hums against my skin, and I feel it through my entire body. “I would like to try that kiss again, if you’re still interested.”

Buy-Book Link: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250253378

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of PUCKED, Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She's writes contemporary romance ranging from new adult angst to romantic sports comedy.

Helena Hunting Blog Tour Q&A 

What inspired you to write Making Up?

I’d introduced Griffin in the previous Shacking Up Series novels, Shacking Up and Hooking Up—he was a bit of a mystery for readers because he was talked about, but not really present. I had a very clear picture in my mind of who he was, and the kind of woman who would end up being the perfect fit for him, and it was not his fiancé from the previous books.  

Introduce us to your main characters!

Griffin Mills is the oldest of the three Mills brothers. At thirty-three he’s had several very long term relationships and was formerly engaged, but that relationship went up in flames. He’s gorgeous, smart, loves the numbers side of the family business he’s part of—a chain of hotels he’s set to inherit with his brothers. Also, he’s a little awkward, which I love, because there’s nothing quite like a hot guy who doesn’t have all the lines and fumbles a bit when he’s dealing with someone he’s attracted to. It makes for some hilarious banter with his love interest, Cosy Felton. Our heroine is a twenty-two year old who has been a bit of a nomad for most of her life, but is finally finishing school and happens to work at an Adult Toy Store part time. It’s definitely not her favourite job, but it pays the bills. She’s sassy, not much of a planner and definitely more than Griffin bargained for.

Lots of aspiring authors out there. Any advice for them?

Just keep writing. Every day put words on the page and surround yourself with positive people who are there to support you. Ask questions, join book groups, be an avid reader and an observer.

How is Making Up different from your other books?

Making Up has a trope I’ve never really explored or played around with before, so it was a lot of fun to write. While I’ve written age gaps before, it hasn’t been a key part of the storyline, or had a significant impact on how the characters perceive the relationship. Griffin and Cosy are from two very different worlds and balancing their expectations and insecurities was one of my favourite parts of writing their story. Making Up has my signature quirky, sassy heroines and I love writing heroes that are sexy, yet a little awkward. While it’s a light read, there’s some drama, and some heavy baggage, which I think grounds the story and balances out the hilarity.

I know asking someone’s all-time favorite book is a loaded question so what’s your current favorite read?

I’ve been so lucky to read so many amazing books this year but I’m going to go with Broken Knight by LJ Shen which releases this August. I love YA/NA romance and angst, and she knows how to deliver both flawlessly.

Alright, the ultimate question: why should we read your book?

We all need a little escape from our own realities once in a while and Making Up is a fun, sexy romance that’s perfect for the summer. Also, Griffin is hot, and not particularly suave at times. I think we can all appreciate a guy who doesn’t have all the lines, especially if he looks like he should.

A famous movie producer wants to make your books into movies and they want you to cast your characters from Making Up. Which actors/actresses make the cut?

This is always a fun question and I’ll be 100% honest, I never actually look at actors prior to writing a story because I generally have a picture of the character in my head. But, I went on a Pinterest mission and Alex Morgan (she’s a soccer player, not an actress) would make a fabulous Cosy if she suddenly switched career paths. Hailee Steinfeld (Bumblebee) is super sassy, and could definitely play up the humor in this story, so she would be a legitimate actress choice. Gabriel Macht has a great smolder and can rock a seriously sexy suit, so I think he’d be great as Griffin.

Favorite quote or scene you wrote in Making Up?

Making Up is definitely a rom-com with some incredibly hilarious moments, but Griffin has some heavy baggage, which means there are also serious moments, and this is one of my favourites: “Talk to me. Fall apart on me. Show me your weakness so I can give you my strength.”

What inspired you to become a writer?

I’ve always loved to write, but finding time was a challenge during university and then afterward I was building a career and we renovated a house down to the studs—which takes up a lot of time and doesn’t leave much of an opportunity for putting down words (but it was an amazing experience). When I gave birth to my daughter she struggled to sleep—or rather stay asleep—and that meant I spent a lot of time awake in the middle of the night. So I started writing again during those late nights, and finally penned my first full novel.

What is a typical writing day like?

I usually start with a run and then copious amounts of coffee while I manage the administrative side of things—ie emails, social media posts etc. But when I sit down to write I have a playlist I put on repeat, more coffee, sparking water (so I can stay hydrated) and my cat Pumpkin generally lies on top of my closed laptop and supervises me for the day.

Do you have any interesting writing quirks or habits?

I listen to the same playlist while I write a novel. So if it takes me two months, then I listen to the same set of songs for two full months. I’ve destroyed A LOT of albums for my husband over the past several years. I just need the background noise, and listening to the radio or unfamiliar songs can be distracting.

What has been one of the most surprising things you’ve learned as a published author?

I’ve only been in the industry for five years and there has been so much change, learning to adjust and adapt and just staying true to your personal goal is really the most important thing I’ve learned. I think when you start out there are just so many unknowns, and taking risks can be scary, but if you don’t take those risks, it’s hard to grow as an author.

Can you tell us about what’s coming up next after this for you writing wise?

I have one more book in The Shacking Up Series, HANDLE WITH CARE, which releases at the end of August! Griffin’s cousin and best friend, Lincoln Moorehead, is the hero and if you didn’t know, he is also Armstrong’s brother. Lincoln is the polar opposite of Armstrong so it was so fun to write. I can’t wait for people to meet Griffin and Cosy and Lincoln and Wren.

How can readers connect with you online?

They can connect with me all over social media! (add links)

Website→  http://www.helenahunting.com/

Amazon → http://amzn.to/1y6OBB7

Twitter → http://bit.ly/HelenaHTwitter

Facebook → https://www.facebook.com/helena.hunting69/

Pinterest → http://bit.ly/1oQYRVN

Instagram → http://instagram.com/helenahunting Goodreads→ http://bit.ly/GoodReadsHH NEWSLETTER → http://bit.ly/HelenaHnewsletter

Bookbub → http://bit.ly/BookBubHH

Facebook Reader Group  → http://bit.ly/TheBeaverDenHH

[rapunzelssaviour]

Enough

[SHAWN MENDES]

Summary: Shawn and [Y/N] have begun to noticeably drift apart and with each sharp, unempathetic word, [Y/N] finds herself more and more unable to tolerate it.

Warnings: slight swearing, angst

My grip on his arm was slacking as he turned, eyes filled to the brim with nothing but anger— fuelling hot, bubbling rage. His dark hair encouraged the shadows, already flickering across his face in the low lights, to elongate. They shrouded the previous happiness that had been the only visible emotion, leaving his stare void of anything of the sort.

“What?” His voice was sharp, searing as if the actual words had cut me across the face. We weren’t particularly close, but I could feel his annoyance rolling off him in waves. Those around us must have detected it, too, as they seemed to subconsciously take a step away from him. I did the same.

I prayed to god those surrounding us, whether in our little dark corner or as far away as the bar, didn’t hear what was going on.

Andrew shot us glances over his wine glass, making a point to raise his eyebrows. ‘You alright?’ He seemed to ask. At least someone cared.

“I’m tired,” I told him at last, having searched his eyes for anything that resembled the Shawn I’d fallen in love with. It was futile, however. That person was long gone, whisked away and morphed by the drug that is fame, attention.

It wasn’t too late, but much later than I’d wanted to stay out for. And the alcohol seeping into my bloodstream, combined with the intolerable music blaring through the speakers was enough to inflict a wave of nausea. The way he glared down at me only heightened this sickening sensation.

He rolled his eyes. “So? What do you want me to do about it?”

“I just want to go home,” I told him, quietening my voice. Again, he rolled his eyes as if my entire existence was so completely aggravating, difficult to bear.

He downed his glass. I wondered, momentarily, whether he did this so to leave with me and that once out of the club, he would regain some of his usual personality.

“Go home then.”

I peered up at him, blatant confusion on my face. Not just because he drove us here so I’d have to find my own way back, but also for the tone he was using. It was just plain rude.

“Aren’t you coming?” God, he made me sound desperate, like a complete fool. And maybe I was. No, I know I was. It sickened me to imagine those around us getting a private show of this. When he made no move to answer, I continued: “how will I get back?”

He huffed, loudly. Without so much as a ‘good bye,’ he’d tossed his keys in my general direction and was storming away, his tall figure easily gliding through the throng of people. I watched him go, face heated up in utter shame and humiliation.

Andrew made a move toward me, face a mixture of shock at Shawn’s behaviour and sympathy. I cringed, internally.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, mouth close to my ear so that I could hear him without him having to shout. I nodded, numbly, having lost feeling in most of my body. Again, he asked but I waved his concerns away and slapped on a smile.

“I’m just drained,” I told him, not exactly lying. “I think I’m going to get back.” I checked my watch. “It’s almost one.” He asked if he should taken me, but I laughed. “Don’t let my granny arse spoil your fun!”

__________

The place was empty, as expected, when I got back. There was something ominous, disconcerting in the sound of the door unlocking as it reverberated through the inhabited rooms in the darkness.

I sighed, plopping my bag down on the counter, along with Shawn’s keys. There was a stuff littered around the place, both clothes and discarded bags, so I tidied up a bit. With nothing else to do, I grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and cuddled up on the sofa.

It had taken me a long while to go to sleep, and when I finally did, I was awakened abruptly by the door opening and the distinct sound of Shawn’s curse as he whacked his leg into the small table by the door. A sharp pain shot through me.

I’d been thinking whilst battling with sleep. My decision was made, my mind set. I wouldn’t put up with it all any longer, I just couldn’t.

I’d gotten up during the time he’d been gone, for everything set up. Everything was organised. I couldn’t turn back now.

“Shawn?” I called into the open air, though I knew it could only be him. Still, my heart thudded against my ribcage and my stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Fuck,” he said, hand pulled to his chest in fright. “What are you doing down here? Why aren’t you upstairs?”

“I was watching tv,” the lie slipped from my tongue, effortlessly. “Must have fallen asleep.”

He accepted it, nodding. “Right, I’m going to get changed. Meet me up there.”

I ‘mhm’ed, but the thought of actually following through with it— of having to sleep beside him, of having to be in the same bed, even the same room as him— made me feel tense. The feeling surprised even myself. Shawn had always had the opposite effect on me, actually strived to make me feel completely at ease.

He disappeared into the bedroom.

His routine was like a ritual so it wasn’t too outlandish to know he was pushing his black jeans down his legs and throwing them to the side so that they pooled onto the floor; unbuttoning his shirt to his expose his toned chest, leaving him in only his boxers. He would then reveal the bed by pulling the duvet away, and slid himself into the space.

I wondered how long I could last, alone in the front room, away from Shawn. Maybe he would go to sleep without me, forget who he was waiting up for, not miss me beside him. It wouldn’t be so improbable.

Apparently my prayers fell upon empty ears, for I heard shuffling from the room he was in after about ten minutes. I wasn’t given much time to prepare before he was hovering above me. I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep.

“Babe,” he cooed, warm hand on my arm through the blanket. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

I opened my eyes, just managing to make out his general features in the dark.

“No.”

He assessed me, wondering if I was joking— ready to break those plump lips into a grin. “What?” He asked when I showed no sign of joking, maintaining a stern, expressionless facade.

I got up, then, making my way past him to switch on the light. We both blinked harshly, before our eyes adjusted. In the light, I could see his hair was dishevelled, likely from having run his hands through it. As if to prove my point, his hand reached up and pushed through his tangled curls.

His eyes fell upon my attire, eyebrows furrowing when he realised I wasn’t in one of his shirts, but instead, in a pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt.

“I. Don’t. Want. To,” I enunciated clearly. “I’ve had enough.”

“Enough of what?” He asked, face taunt in concentration as he studied me. His dark eyes were no longer fiery, but subdued with forthcoming pain. He knew what was coming. Perhaps he didn’t quite believe it, might not have comprehended it, but he knew it was coming.

“Enough of this,” I pointed between us both. “Enough of us, enough of how I am nowadays. Enough of you.”

“You can’t be serious.” His eyebrows scrunched even more, if possible, and his biceps bulged as he crossed his arms firmly across his chest. “I don’t- why- have I done something?”

“You can’t honestly be that oblivious!” I let out. “I’m miserable, Shawn, fucking miserable. All I ever do is wait around for you to be back from tour and when you are, you spend as much of it as you can away from me! Am I really that insufferable?”

“I-“

“And the few times when we are together, you act like I’m nothing to you.”

“Do you not love me anymore? Is that was this is? Because I love you so, so much and maybe I don’t show it like I should, but I do.”

“Of course I love you,” I said, pulling my hair in frustration. “But I can’t keep being treated like this. You make me feel worthless, like I’m- I’m nothing. I’ve had enough. I can’t keep doing this.”

It was then that his eyes drifted down, back towards the door. It dawned on him then, that I was completely serious. We weren’t just going to have make up sex and this whole ordeal forgotten about.

He strode towards where my bag, filled with all my essentials, lay and picked it up, putting it behind his back.

“No. You can’t just leave like this. If we both love each other, what’s the problem?” He looked on the verge of derangement, hands shaking ever so slightly.

I stepped closer to him, tentative but resolute. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt, Shawn.”

He let me come nearer, breathing in my scent when I snaked my arms around his waist. His breathing was jagged, uneven as we just stood there. He was too absorbed in indulging in the feeling of my body against his, moulding into mine, to notice my hands detaching the bag from his hands.

I separated myself from him with difficulty for his hands seemed glued to me now. With reluctance, he let me put distance between us, eyes still shut as if savouring that hug, likely still not believing it’d be the last one.

The opening of the door shocked him out of his state and he spun round to face me again.

“I can’t live without you!” He called as a last resort.

The door beneath my hand felt less sturdy than usual, feeling as though my whitened knuckles would crush it any second. Alas, it stayed in shape, but the same couldn’t be said for either Shawn or myself.

“You’re going to have to learn,” I said in way of a farewell.

Once the door was shut behind me, I stepped towards the lift.

As the doors closed before me, I imagined them aiding in cutting the ties with Shawn and I.

I couldn’t stop the sob that racked through me as the tears began to fall.

[firechiicken]

— ✧ GEMMA CHAN ??  no, that’s just JEAN ELAINE GREY, also known as N/A !!  she was previously married to SCOTT SUMMERS, though their marriage was DISSOLVED upon her death. i hear she’s EMPATHETIC & ALTRUISTIC but tends to be IDEALISTIC & HYPERSENSITIVE. she works as a PSYCHOLOGIST & PSYCHOLOGY PROFESSOR at paragon. redirect to her stats page HERE and her pinterest board HERE.

     they’re burning all the witches,                            even if you AREN’T one.

marvel girl. trigger warnings for talk of death throughout.

july 15th, 1965. annandale-on-hudson, new york. professor john grey and his wife, elaine, welcomed their fifth child and youngest daughter into this world. they name her jean. in her tiny hands are held a fifth of the grey family’s hopes and dreams for their future - and neither can deny the thought that little jeannie, with her tuft of flaming red hair, might just be the be all, end all.

for a very long time, she is just a GIRL, a child allowed to be a child. her red hair marks her as something different to the rest, but she doesn’t feel as if she IS - rather, how overwhelmingly normal she is. she’s smart, but not too smart. PRETTY, but so are the rest. she’s kind, and perhaps this is the most notable of her early traits - an intolerable sort of SOFTNESS, a hugeness to her heart that sometimes does more harm than good.

the littlest of the five, she finds herself running to catch up more often than not, with only roger ever slowing down for her. she and liam end up in the same grade, not for her testing out, but for him getting kept back. sara & julia tease her mercilessly, but when she ( accidentally ) ruins sara’s favorite top, the latter takes the blame, and sometimes, just sometimes, the former allows her tag along to the arcade. her siblings are her CLOSEST friends for a time, the people she spends every hour of every day with, who HAVE to tolerate her, no matter what - and then she met annie.

little annie richardson was similar to jean in a lot of ways, not just in the fact that ‘little’ was often tacked on to the start of her name. cute as a button, sharp as a tack. on the fateful november day that they met, liam was sick and home from school, and jean, miserable in his absence. she was sitting eating lunch alone, she can recall even now - and though she didn’t have to, annie, an otherwise unremarkable head of brown hair that sat a few rows behind her, in class, took it upon herself to join. that day marked the beginning of a lifetime. annie and jean became INSEPERABLE, not just at school - it turned out that she lived only a few doors down, and after their homework was done and their dinners ate, they’d spend HOURS riding their bikes and playing make believe. annie was always the princess, and jean the dashing PRINCE who saved her from the tower. when they played dolls, annie was the patient, and jean the DOCTOR. so on, so forth.

it was such a pity, then, and contrary to all of the stories that they had woven, when LITTLE ANNIE RICHARDSON was struck by a car outside of her own home. jean was only a few feet away, safe on the sidewalk a handful of seconds before tragedy - and though she was an innocent ten years old and didn’t QUITE understand the gravity of what was happening, jean knew, even then, she couldn’t just leave her. she rushed to her side and she rocked her back and forth and somewhere between the sobbing and the hoping and the praying that she could somehow help her friend, evolution leaped forwards. her mutations manifested YOUNG - and at the cost of taking her friends dying emotions unto herself and feeling every second, jean eased annie’s mind.

jean withdrew from the world - the voices in her head that didn’t belong to her too much - and there wasn’t a SINGLE therapist who could help her, after that. not the normal kind, anyway. john grey had a winning combination of connections and money to spare, but try as he and his wife might, they found no one who was able to reach their daughter through the haze of emotion that had come over her. her first experience of her powers was through DEATH. nothing good could come after that.

and then came charles xavier. he had yet to become the credible well of mutant knowledge that he would, in later life - but back then, he seemed to be jean’s only HOPE. she was twelve, by now, and a shell of who she had once been - and over coming months, with the knowledge that she was not alone and never had been, jean flourished. charles succeeded, at first, in teaching her a level of control over the powers that up until now had seemingly taken over her life, and what was more, he managed to put something of a mental block on the firerod of a memory that annie’s death was, for jean - allowing her move past that trauma, some, and begin again. she advanced so much, so fast, that he and moira mactaggart decided they could utilize her in the creation of CEREBRO ; calibrating it for use, and together, conducting field tests in search of fellow mutants. it was during this process that jean first made contact with the boy she would come to love - scott summers.

though cerebro had been a marked success, and jean appeared to have taken CONTROL, charles overwhelmed her telepathic abilities on an excursion to a shopping mall - the conflicting thoughts all becoming too much and causing her to lash out without meaning. set back miles by the incident, the professor decided to place a mental block on jean’s mind to stunt her telepathic abilities and keep them DORMANT until such a time as she was ready to control them - and after sending her home, briefly, to live a somewhat NORMAL life, convinced her parents when the time was right to allow her join the newly opened xavier’s school for gifted youngsters. she was SIXTEEN when she joined the first x-men team comprised of scott summers, warren worthington, hank mccoy and bobby drake, and the first girl to do so.

under the alias of MARVEL GIRL, and the tutelage of charles xavier,  jean began to use her telekinetic powers for good along with the rest of the team. they trained for months in the danger room beneath the mansion, preparing themselves for the inevitable - when professor x decided that they were ready to go out into the world and unveil their powers to it, fighting magneto and a whole host of other villains for the safety of humans. despite her loyalty to the professor, jean had her reservations when it came to such antics ; disagreeing, fundamentally, with the idea of children fighting a war. though she came to LOVE her teammates, each of them coming to fulfill a unique role in jean’s life - hank as big brother and closest confidant, bobby as her little brother and endearing annoyance, warren as her BEST friend and one time crush and scott as, well... even then, a beloved team leader and love interest - she HATED what they were being sent to do. though being able to use her gifts in such a practical way was a huge help in the continued lesson of control, and though she was made HAPPY by being able to help innocent bystanders, jean couldn’t entirely reconcile her differences in ideals - and when she graduated from xavier’s with the necessary high school diploma, chose to take a break from the team in order to attend metro college.

she wanted to be NORMAL, in a way - had been so, once, and sought it out again, actively - but it wasn’t until she was apart from it that jean realized how much she had really enjoyed the purpose that the x-men had given her. they were all older, now, and maybe it was that they weren’t children anymore that really swayed her to the idea of it ( or MAYBE, just maybe, it was missing the friends she had made ), but jean came to miss being a hero full time, and rejoined the team when her responsibilities allowed her take a break. on such missions, it became apparent to every onlooker that jean and scott held feelings for one another close - though neither was able to put them into words. scott feared hurting her, and jean wished he would make a move. it left them stuck, and the fact that she was only around for fleeting moments at a time didn’t help. eventually, she graduated from metro college and rejoined the team ; and though it had taken YEARS of mutual pining, scott and jean found their way to one another. 

satisfied with her progress at this time, charles released the barriers upon jean’s mind - allowing her to begin learning how to control her telepathy, and in addition to such, allowing her knowledge of certain secrets kept for the safety of the rest of the team. when the team believed him DEAD, jean was the one who knew the truth - and it pained her to keep it from the others for as long as she had to, and it was this in addition to a handful of failed missions that led to jean deciding, once again, to LEAVE the team - though her relationship with scott continued.

phoenix. trigger warnings for talk of murder & death throughout.

she wasn’t a member of the x-men when she died. she was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time - a visit to the new team ( she adored them ALL, not JUST because of association ) going wrong, resulting in them being kidnapped. brought to space by steven lang, the x-men defeated the villain as they always did and were forced to try and return home aboard a space shuttle in the middle of a solar radiation storm. the only one among them capable of learning how to fly simply by reading someone’s MIND, jean volunteered to pilot the craft even though the cockpit wasn’t shielded from radiation - allowing the others take refuge in safety as she battled the storm to get them home.

she began to succumb to the radiation.

and somewhere, the PHOENIX FORCE found her. sensing her limitless potential, the cosmic entity came to her aid - informing her that she was going to die, but that TOGETHER, it could help her attain her hearts desire. at that time, it was saving her friends. she merged with the phoenix force in the same instant as she died - the entity forming a clone of her from her consciousness and putting the real jean grey to rest in a cocoon at the bottom of jamaica bay, allowing her exist in stasis and heal from her injuries while it took her form and continued her LIFE’S WORK.

the phoenix took her place, and continued her relationship. it was IMPOSSIBLE tell the difference between her and the entity - because, for a long time, there wasn’t one. to call it a clone is to put it LOOSELY. at the moment of their merge, the phoenix and jean became one, and the force had formed a perfect replica of her, mind, body & soul. a part of her consciousness formed with the replica, the two becoming indistinguishable. 

she continued to aid the x-men and live her life, even going so far as to reveal to her parents that she was a mutant. however, after healing the m’kraan crystal and saving the UNIVERSE, her powers only seemed to GROW. while her teammates saw jean leap and bound beyond previous limitations, they didn’t see the PHOENIX at her heart.

dark phoenix. trigger warnings for talk of death & murder & suicide throughout.

in the following months, the phoenix, jean became jason wyngarde’s victim. awed by her POWER, he sought to corrupt her and turn her against the x-men through dreams and manipulation. blind to what was happening, jean fell underneath his spell and became the black queen of the hellfire club - capturing her FRIENDS along with emma frost and the inner circle, and causing them harm before scott’s ( temporary ) death snapped her from her trance.

HOWEVER, it was too late. the dark phoenix was born from manipulation and pain, and the shade of jean grey that had been masquerading for MONTHS as the true her underwent a final transformation.

she soared through the universe, and when she came to the star d’bari, she devoured it - a TRUE display of the immense power she now wielded and the strength of the phoenix force, though the action killed an entire solar system. BILLIONS of alien creatures, dead. the star fueled her power and the dark phoenix returned to cleanse the world - burn it to ash and START AGAIN - before being thwarted, temporarily, by the combined efforts of the x-men and CHARLES XAVIER. their joy was short lived, as the shi’ar empire teleported them all to space, and put jean grey on TRIAL for her actions.

the x-men chose to do battle with the imperial guard for jean’s fate, but as testament to her LOYALTY and love, the shade of jean grey witnessed all that was happening and made a conscious choice. embittered by all that she had done and unwilling to watch her friends get hurt or die for her, she committed suicide in the middle of the battle - sacrificing herself ONCE AGAIN for the good of her friends.

white phoenix of the crown. talk of death throughout.

green the good, red the bad, and white to which she had yet to discover the meaning to. the portion of jean’s consciousness that had merged with the phoenix a lifetime before awoke in a space between worlds and time and space called THE WHITE HOT ROOM in a version of the iconic costume. for the first time since she had merged with the cosmic entity, the real jean grey was awake and able to THINK - though before she could come to any conclusion on what it all meant, death came to her.

it was presented with a painful paradox. though jean grey had NOT eaten a star and destroyed a galaxy, she also, in a sense, had. her PENANCE for a wrongdoing that couldn’t be entirely pinned to her was to build towers that would house the victims of the dark phoenix, and over time, this version of death informed jean that while her merging with the phoenix force had seemed RANDOM, they would not have been able to become one if they were not meant to. she was the one true host, and it belonged to her by right. 

jean completed her penance, and her version of death instructed her to return to life. to learn. dominos in effect meant that the FANTASTIC FOUR had discovered her body - and true essence - in a cocoon beneath jamaica bay, and as they studied it back at base, jean grey AWOKE and emerged.

the first thing that jean learned was that in the time that she had been dead, the world had changed. scott had moved on - marrying a woman named madelyne pryor who looked exactly LIKE her, and having a son. the x-men had moved on, and she was stunned to discover them working alongside magneto. over the next few months, she was forced to balance readjusting to life with battling a HOST of demons and situations that made it near impossible. scott abandoned his family. it turned out that madelyne was a clone designed to turn EVIL upon rejection, and jean was forced to absorb her in battle. her sister, sara, a PRO MUTANT speaker, was killed by anti mutant extremists. rachel, a mysterious new member of the team that had arrived while she was gone was revealed to be her and scott’s daughter from another timeline. scott’s SON, nathan, was kidnapped along with jean’s niece and nephew and upon being saved contracted techno virus, forcing jean and scott to send him to the FUTURE so he might be safe. then they all met CABLE, an older version of nathan from the future. 

as you can see, it was all a lot. it was a wonder that given all that was happening that jean and scott even managed to reconcile - but over time, they did, and on the lawns of xavier’s, the two reunited members of the x-men MARRIED. for their honeymoon, their consciousness’ were sent forward in time in order to raise the young nathan summers ( cable ), allowing them time as a FAMILY before they returned, ready to continue as a husband and wife duo. 

however. though they spent MONTHS fighting the good fight alongside one another, and though they did a great deal of good in that time - jean and scott’s marriage began to suffer almost immediately. though they loved each other, dearly, they had been through TOO much to be happy, now. a distance formed between them that spanned too wide for them to heal, and scott seeking help from emma frost, who in turn fell in love with him, proved to be the last straw. she had only just discovered the psychic affair when the x-men were attacked, once more, and xorn attacked her with an overwhelming electromagnetic blast. it STOPPED her heart - killing her - but it also worked as way of awakening the phoenix force, once more, and in spite of all the wrong it had done, jean agreed to aid it in finding all of it’s pieces, scattered across the omniverse.

though briefly an incomplete version of the phoenix force, in line with the DARK version of itself, returned and wrecked havok - jean grey prevailed, reminded by the collective x-men of how MUCH she was loved and reached enough that she was able to take back control, and consciously return to the white hot room. given a goodbye with scott - who reminded her that no matter what the cosmos said, she was jean grey, always - and more content than she had ever been with the knowledge of how much her family meant to her, jean vowed, in spite of the fact that as white phoenix of the crown she could CONSCIOUSLY resurrect herself, not to return until such a time as the phoenix was stable.

time displaced. 

five years ago, a younger version of the jean grey this world knew was brought forward in time alongside younger versions of each of the original team for their own safety. the mental blocks placed on this jean’s mind dissolved upon appearance in the future meaning that she accessed her power a year earlier than she should have - and was privy to knowledge of her future that no child should have had. this version of jean wanted nothing more than to avoid the tragedy of her older counterparts existence. she spent the sum of her time, here, training herself in her own powers, and trying to find a way to absolve herself of the future - avoid the phoenix, avoid the PAIN. she returned to the past, eventually ; returning with no MEMORY of all she’d done, here. it was the price that had to be paid.

jean grey.

and then, she returned. the ORIGINAL jean grey, resurrected by the phoenix force, without memory of herself, or her life. for weeks she was trapped in a small bubble of existence in new mexico, and though she continued to be subtly manipulated, subconsciously, jean knew that the world she was living in was a farce - sending psychic flares for help out into the real world in form of projections of tragedies of the past. saved by her friends in due time, jean RENOUNCED the phoenix’s ways - choosing life over it. 

she has returned now, herself, and for the first time in a LIFETIME, jean gets to be who she has always wanted to be. she gets to LIVE, and for her, this means becoming a teacher and psychologist at paragon, working to do good. she cannot erase her past, but she can form her future ; and this time, jean intends to. 

SECTION TWO OF THREE: HEADCANONS

jean remains the world’s most iconic redhead ; though in my version, her hair color comes from her MUTATION. it was the earliest indication that her parents had their youngest daughter was going to be something more, though neither could have predicted by just how much. 

in a way, she chose never to have children. though she briefly entertained the idea of having RACHEL in this timeline, jean shudders to think about her children going through what she did with the phoenix force due to the blood that runs in their veins and nothing more. she always preferred NOT putting them through that - though she would be lying if, in addition to that, a part of the choice has been taken from her since all she’s ever really done is... die. for NOW, she’s content. she thinks of nathan ( cable ) and nate as her sons, she thinks of rachel as a daughter ( though she struggles a bit here, sometimes ). now that she is somewhat free and has this second chance at life, jean DOES consider her future, and children.... but she’s happy to see where life takes her.

she was dead for TWENTY FOUR years - bar a few brief appearances back on earth, both in search of phoenix fragments and in order to keep the phoenix in check. finally... the jean/scott/emma timeline makes sense. the phoenix brought her back in late 2017, and it was midway through 2018 that she finally began sending out her own PSYCHIC FLARES.

per the grey family massacre, jean is now the last of them - it’s very sad, so pour one out.

SECTION THREE OF THREE: WANTED CONNECTIONS

patients !! ppl she’s talking to routinely to help them thru their traumas !!

but specifically : a little group of ppl who have all died and come back ( doesn’t matter for how long. years like jean ?? months ?? weeks ?? an hour ?? ) and want to try and work through the trauma associated w that. jean can lead them all in a sort of ... group therapy thing. she’s died MULTIPLE times and come back so rly ... she’s a good option

friends !! and not just, like... canon friends. ppl who she’s friends w now

peoPLE WHO KNEW TIME DISPLACED HER !!! that’s a fun connect. gimme ppl who were like... genuinely friends w little jean and are now like ?? the fuc

anything you’ll give me, frankly