#they need to wipe this from their memories

[jockwrites]

LUST - p.b

warnings: angst, cursing, straight people

part: 1

part: 2

a/n: if u can’t tell i love chase atlantic and i love to base writing off of music so..hehe

this will have smut.. but that’s a few chapters down hehe anyway i’m gonna post the second chapter like 10mins after this hahhahaha ok bye

today was the day. the day you’ve been dreading, but you know it’s for the best regardless.

you’re breaking up with your boyfriend.

for 3 months, you’ve been cheating on him. not only are you fucking another person, that person is a girl.

you’ve never called yourself gay, ever. you wouldn’t even consider the term bisexual.

but after you met paige bueckers, your whole world flipped upside down.

she was perfect, in every way. the way she touches you, looks at you, cares for you, every. little. thing.

she made you feel the way a man never has, or could.

but this wasn’t just hooking up to you, even if it was. to you, it felt like love.

the late night drives, long walks, beach trips, she even took you to disney world, a place you’ve been dreaming of since a child.

the first time you two hooked up was at a party. you didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.

you exchanged glances from time to time, she walked up, complimented your outfit, told you to meet her in the bathroom, & the rest is history.

it all happened way to fast. but it was like a fever dream. and you didn’t even care about the fact she was one of the biggest basketball players in America.

now the main reason you’re breaking up with your boyfriend? it’s because of paige.

she’s hated him since the beginning.

the night after the first hookup, you got her number. she shot you a text, but you told her it’s not something that can be continued because of your boyfriend.

God she hates that word.

you’d vent to her about him a lot. you’d mention his late texts, the constant back and forth between you and work. it was like he never made time for you.

but paige, oh paige. she always had time for you.

between water breaks at practice she’d text or facetime, when at events she calls, even in the locker room before games she sneaks to send you a little heart emoji or an “i’m gonna win for u. love you”

you loved it. actually, you love everything about her.

but the sad part is, your boyfriend is a good guy.

he doesn’t deserve this, and you know it. he can’t help it that he has a tight schedule. but it all feels so right.

as of right now, you’re driving to your boyfriends apartment. alongside the teary eyes and hurting heart, you can’t help but rethink for a minute.

is this what i want? is this what he would want? or is this just what paige wants?

but then again, you realized you want it. you want paige, you want every part of that woman. you love her.

as your car slowly approaches the building, you wipe your tears. you’re ready to face whatever he has to say to you. but the thing is, you have no excuse.

you don’t know what to say to him. you can’t just throw it on him that you’ve been cheating, with a woman.

you sit in the driver seat, thinking about the memories you’ve had with him. all of the good, the bad, it’s all to much for you.

but you have to keep in mind, you want this.

you regain you slowly regain composure, getting out of your car.

you walk into the building, getting on the elevator to go to his apartment.

as you approach the door, you take a few deep breaths. your thoughts are taking over, and that isn’t something you need right about now.

you knock twice, waiting for a response, or any type of noise that signifies he’s here.

as you hear the door knob unlock, you quickly put on a nervous smile.

“hi, jacob!” you exulted nervously.

“hey, what’re you doing here? i was just finishing up some work, so if you wanna come inside, you can.” he smiled, motioning for you to step in.

you walk in, hating this already.

as he closes the door, you turn around toward him.

“jacob, i need to talk to you about something.”

“what is it baby?” he said. “are you okay?”

“no, jacob. i’m not okay. that’s exactly why we need to talk..”

“okay well, sit down baby. you can talk to me about anything.” he smiled.

you sit down, tears ready to flow any second.

you hate this. you hate everything about this.

“jacob, first off, i just wanna say i love you. i love you so so much, and i hope this won’t change anything between us. i know it will, but i can only hope.” you cried.

“baby, baby.” he walked toward you, crouching down to your level to comfort you. “what’s wrong? why’re you crying baby? you can talk to me about anything.”

the problem is you can’t talk to him about anything. not after what you’ve done, or what you’re doing.

“i just want you to know it isn’t you, it’s me. it’s all my fault, and i don’t know what to do.” you whimpered

“what are you talking about?” he worried.

“i wanna end things. im so sorry.” you choked out.

“what? what do you mean? what’s happened?” you can hear the pain in his voice.

God make it stop.

“i cheated. i cheated and i don’t know how to make it up to you. im so sorry jacob, i didn’t mean for it to happen like this. one thing led to another and.. i don’t know how to explain it. but please believe me, i love you.” you rambled, tears streaming like a waterfall.

he sat there and stared at you. the look in his eyes, it hurts you. he seems so angry, hurt, disgusted.

you did this to yourself.

“are you serious? with who? i genuinely cannot believe this.. i love you. and you do this to me?” he rasped.

“i know, i know.” you whined, “im so ashamed. but i just feel happier with her.. i can’t help it.”

as soon as that word left your mouth you immediately back tracked.

“i mean- him. i feel happier with him.” you sobbed.

“her? are you serious? are you actually leaving me for a woman?” he fumed.

“how? how could you do this to me? after everything i’ve done for you. the things i’ve put to risk for you?!” the pain in his voice makes you want to kill your self.

you feel like a horrible person.

you are a horrible person.

“jacob. please hear me out-”

“no,” he cut off. “if she’s better than me then go be with her. i tried my best, and if it wasn’t enough then i hope she is. i hope she treats you better than i did.”

the problem is, that’s the truth.

she does treat you better, and it hurts you.

he’s not her.

“i’m sorry jacob. that’s all i can say.” you cried.

“she can take my place. she might appreciate your sense of humor, and she might just be as equally insane.” he huffed.

“i’m gonna go now. im sorry, i really am. and i love you.”

“i loved you too.”

loved.

you walk out, not looking back. the regret you’re feeling is heavy. but you have to keep reminding yourself,

you wanted this.

after a few minutes you make it back to your car. you get inside, and the first thing you decide to do is call paige.

“i did it.” you sniffle over the phone.

“i’m sorry, it’s gonna be okay. if you want, you can come over baby.” she spoke over the phone, her sympathy showing.

“on my way.”

_______________________________________________

“he didn’t deserve you. you know that.” paige says, comforting you softly.

for about a half hour, you’ve been laying in paige’s arms, pouring your heart out.

“i just feel like- like i made the wrong decision. but at the same time i love you paige.” you sob, your words muffled as your head lays in the crook of her neck.

“look at me. it’s not your fault. after everything you’ve told me, he was not the fit for you. i don’t wanna see you hurt by that moron, you don’t deserve it.” she expressed.

“you really care about me that much paige?”

“what? of course i do. you mean the world to me. i’ll love you forever and always.” she promised.

a/n: ok so this is bad lol but if u enjoyed read the next chap plz lol bye

[synthetickitsune]

hoshi,,,blind date,,,fluff

Hoshi (SVT) | Blind date fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

The evening was… nice.

And that’s about all that you can say about it.

Honestly that is in part why you seldom say yes to blind dates. But since your one-plus-one deal coworker and trusted friend in one insisted you and their other friend Soonyoung should give it a try, you eventually agreed.

There was nothing wrong with him. He was nice. A little awkward, his shyness matching yours, but you didn’t mind much. He was laughing at your jokes a little too hard, but it was endearing. The conversation flowed well, he was kind, funny. Nice.  

Not to mention handsome. Maybe slightly cuter than a guy has any business being, but it works so well for him. It’s very charming, actually.

But for a date, it was nothing special - which is to be expected, of course. It was obvious he liked you, as much as you could like little more than a stranger, which made him less of a social butterfly than he is at the office (at least from what you could tell from his stories). You’re sure that the next date would be better since you’d be more familiar with each other, but honestly… Is it worth it? Perhaps you had too high expectations after a long and tiring week, just craving something magical to make the struggle worth it.

You feel slightly guilty for feeling that way when Soonyoung has been nothing but sweet the whole time, even now as you’re strolling along the river with the setting sun shining down on you, he’s great. It’s quiet, the comfortable kind of quiet. You’re grateful for the brief pause in conversation as you sip on the cold drink in your hand. 

The park on your other side is getting empty, but there’s still plenty of people chatting on the blankets having a late picnic. The insects are buzzing, the water is rippling. It all makes up a nice ambiance of dying summer.

While you’re pondering the pros and cons of a second date, the kids in front of you finally talk their parents into buying them some ice cream. Just as you’re passing by them, the youngest one tries to run away from its siblings and the ice cream suddenly splatters on the ground as they wobble. The kid looks at the mess like it’s the biggest tragedy to ever befall mankind.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from laughing. Soonyoung next to you isn’t so successful.

He starts walking faster, about to burst, and his barely contained laughter only makes it that much more difficult for you so you match his pace, and then all it takes for you to lose it is one glance at each other. At least you’re out of earshot of the parents fussing over the kid.

“It’s not nice,” a shaky breath interrupted by laughter, “To laugh at something like that.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you don’t take the scolding to heart, instead you try to calm your breathing. Which just makes Soonyoung laugh harder, which in turn makes you laugh again.

“We’re really messing up our karmas,” he finally manages to say relatively calmly after a couple minutes. He wipes at his eyes quickly and you take the opportunity to do the same.

“I’m so glad you started laughing first,” you take a deep breath, “I thought you’d judge me.”

“Never!” his hand shoots up to clutch at his chest as he acts all offended.

“Are you sure?” you tease, “I’d be very disappointed if that was a lie.”

“My sense of humor is really childish,” he waves you off. His ears look a little red. Soonyoung really is a bit too cute. And you still don’t mind.

“Yeah? Give me your worst joke,” And that challenge is your undoing. 

How you got here, sitting by the river and leaning on Soonyoung because you’re laughing so hard, you have no idea. It’s a blur - and the memory is filled by too many jokes that would just make your cheeks hurt more. He really wasn’t kidding, the jokes are bad. Horrible. Childish. And exactly your taste. And just what you both needed to relax and be comfortable apparently.

Somehow you’re still sitting there when the sky gets dark, just talking. The contrast of before and now is night and day. Suddenly you’re reluctant to leave even though you really should. And your date doesn’t seem too excited about the idea of leaving either - not even after you already scheduled another date.

Although you think just one more won’t be enough.

[oliversrarebooks]

a good grade in being brainwashed: the perfect pet

tw: pet whump, bbu, dehumanization, brainwashing, memory wipe

Previous > Masterlist

"You need more than good looks to get the lead part, you know," said Toby, casually coming up behind Vinay and leaning against his chair. "That's why they'll undoubtedly go with me. No hard feelings. If you're very lucky, though, you'll get to play a supporting role in helping my star shine that much brighter."

Vinay suppressed the urge to point out that it was Toby who convinced him to sign up for theater in the first place, knowing full well that he was the idiot who let Toby talk him into things. "I'll have you know I've been practicing for this audition all week. You shouldn't assume it will be easy."

Toby sighed and rolled his eyes. "You've been practicing all week and yet you're still so stiff. Stiff as a board!" He shook Vinay lightly as if to make a point. "The lead role isn't stiff. He's adventurous. Dashing! Charismatic! And right now you look like a tired accountant three years from retiring, whose idea of adventure is to buy medium salsa instead of mild."

He scowled, because unfortunately Toby was probably right. He wasn't sure he was cut out for acting at all, and the thought of going up on the stage and delivering his monologue before a judging panel… "What do you suggest, then?"

"Here, I've got it." Toby circled around behind him and put his hands on Vinay's shoulders. "You have to let your muscles relax."

"What are you doing?" said Vinay with considerable alarm.

"I'm helping with your stiffness, obviously." Toby was kneading at his shoulders, and unfortunately for Vinay's resolve, it felt amazing.

"You're just trying to get a rise out of me."

"And even though you know that, it's still working."

Of course it was. Vinay never knew what Toby was thinking, giving him a massage in front of everyone gathered for the audition, not that anyone was really noticing.

Actually, no. Vinay knew exactly what Toby was thinking, because it was what Toby was always thinking. He wanted attention, and as usual, Vinay was a convenient source for it.

"Let all that tension out of those muscles," said Toby in a tone that might have been soothing if it weren't Toby. "Just let your mind go blank. And think about what it would be like if you weren't terminally boring."

"Thanks," said Vinay, dripping with sarcasm. "I'll do my best."

"You're so very welcome. I'm always happy to help a fellow thespian!"

Vinay knew he had to do something to take his mind off of warm hands on his shoulders, lest he start to get uncomfortable feelings for his irritating roommate. "I wanted to ask you, have you studied for organic chem yet?"

"Eh, nah. I don't need to. I see organic chem as more of an art than a science really."

"…It's very literally a science."

"So I can probably intuit all the answers. I'll be fine."

That's right, Vinay needed this reminder of how absolutely infuriating Toby could be. He didn't take anything seriously but acting and inflating his ego -- although Vinay suspected there was more going on there, a lot more.

Ever since the very first day they'd been paired together in the dorms, he had an uncanny knack for getting on Vinay's nerves. He seemed to have a supernatural ability for pushing Vinay's buttons just enough to drive him up the wall, but never quite enough that Vinay could truly dislike him. Whenever Vinay wanted peace and quiet, there he'd be, demanding attention. And whenever Vinay was lonely… well, he'd usually be there too. And perhaps that wasn't so terrible.

"You should really study after this. I'll help you."

"Hmm… I suppose I could help you study, if you really want me to. But only if we order Chinese. I can't study on an empty stomach, you know."

"Fine. Deal."

The auditorium went quiet as the director got up on stage. "All right, we're going to begin auditions. Everyone auditioning for the male lead, please head backstage now. When your name is called, you'll have five minutes to deliver your monologue."

"Oh, here we go!" said Toby, cracking his knuckles and grinning. "Time to shine!"

"Right." Vinay tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he followed Toby backstage. He probably wasn't going first, so at least he'd have five minutes to take some deep breaths and calm down before --

"Vinay? You're up first."

Shit.

"Knock 'em dead," said Toby, clapping him on the back. "Break a leg. Break both your legs."

"What?"

"Shatter your collarbone. Suffer third degree burns to over sixty percent of your body."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Well, if breaking your leg is lucky, more injuries must be extra luck."

Vinay groaned and brushed Toby off as he walked out onto stage with a stride he hoped was confident. He turned to the front and looked at the director.

And his mind went immediately blank.

---

Vinay's mind went immediately blank when he saw the discount pet in the case in the corner, B211.

Toby. It was Toby. But that wasn't possible.

He looked so different from the last time Vinay had seen him. His hair was neatly done and he was wearing a tailored uniform, nothing at all like the tousled hair and loud colors he'd normally preferred. But the most striking thing about him was the smile. It was no longer that cocky grin he always wore when he'd gotten your attention. It was a customer service smile, a meek and submissive smile, a smile tinged with desperation.

But it was Toby. Even though that didn't seem possible, there was no mistake.

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one," said the salesman. "He's a bit more high maintenance than our other Romantics, and you're looking for a pet that's very independent, right?"

Vinay nodded and let the salesman lead him away to a different pet on display, but his mind remained behind.

How the hell did Toby end up as a pet? Vinay had spent so much time with him in college and never suspected that he might be a pet. Sure, he struggled with his grades, and was a bit on the unstable side, but surely that didn't mean he was a pet. Had he signed up voluntarily? Had he gotten himself in trouble, the sort of trouble that got him designated a risk to himself? Did he have a nervous breakdown?

And did he remember Vinay? No, he couldn't possibly. Pets all had their former memories erased through what was said to be a very humane process, to ease their transition into a better life. Toby likely didn't remember anything at all about him.

And that thought made him slightly ill.

"I can tell this one's not to your liking," said the salesman, and Vinay realized he'd been making a disgusted look in the vague direction of the pet the salesman was showing off. "Well, I think you're going to like this pet. He's low maintenance and is trained to cook…"

"That sounds interesting," said Vinay, trying to regain his focus.

He'd come here to find a companion pet on the recommendation of his therapist. His job left him with plenty of money but even more stress, he'd had little luck with making friends or dating, and he'd been getting desperately lonely and touch-starved. His therapist quite reasonably pointed out that that was one of the primary functions of pets, to ease loneliness.

Vinay had never considered it before. He'd never been fond of his family's Domestics. His father had preferred them unseen and unheard, so they tended to flit around the house like ghosts. Vinay certainly didn't want a pet like that. He wanted a pet with some personality, who could brighten his days and give him something to do other than work and sleep.

And he absolutely could not buy Toby, not that he would even consider it. However Toby had ended up as a pet, it was not his business, and Vinay was a stranger to him now anyway. Even if he didn't have his memory cleaned, Toby would no doubt hate being stuck with Vinay again. Most importantly, there was a rule in the Pet Owners' Handbook warning against keeping pets that the owner knew before they were pets. After all, pets had their memories erased so that their training would take well and so they wouldn't experience any unnecessary duress. Digging up those memories could cause psychological harm.

There was another customer in front of Toby now. Vinay had no reason to worry about him - he probably made a great pet, and would be bought up quickly.

That thought didn't make Vinay feel better at all.

The salesman directed him to the largest case at the end of the show floor. "And I've saved the best for last. This is a premium model, one of the finest we've had in this showroom. He does it all, and does it in style."

The premium pet was perfectly coiffed and very handsome. His smile looked much more natural than some of the other pets', warm and inviting, as though he truly wanted to be your companion. The salesman eagerly listed his attributes: independent, intelligent, capable of being a personal assistant, eager to please…

This one was everything he had wanted in a pet, just the sort of thing he'd been looking for. The pet was expensive, but Vinay could easily afford this indulgence. He'd be the perfect addition to Vinay's lonely condo, one he'd be proud to have.

"If this pet is within your budget, I think he'd be best suited to your needs, sir."

"He does seem like an ideal fit…" said Vinay with a lack of enthusiasm that surprised even him. After all, wasn't this exactly what he wanted? An ideal pet, perfectly trained, quiet, obedient, affectionate.

Just the right boring, corporate addition to his boring, corporate life.

"Would you like to spend a little time with him? I'm sure once you do, you won't be leaving this showroom alone."

Who was this premium pet before he was a pet? He wasn't meant to worry about that. They were all supposed to be volunteers or those who otherwise couldn't live a normal life, and the pet process was supposed to be humane and gentle. It was good for them, and good for pet owners.

But when he glanced over at Toby's blank and docile face…

"Maybe, but I'm still interested in that one. The one I saw when I first came in."

What was he doing? He couldn't buy Toby. That pet wasn't even Toby any more. He wasn't the roommate that drove Vinay up the wall at every given opportunity. He no longer knew any of Vinay's secrets, shared with him in late night conversations. He was a pet, now, and this premium pet was much better suited to Vinay's needs, just like the salesman said.

His needs. How often did he really think about his needs? What were they? Was a premium pet really what he needed?

Every rational part of his mind was screaming "bad idea" as he walked back to Toby's case. As he approached, a tiny spark of light appeared in Toby's dull eyes, and Vinay knew, against all of his sensible judgement, that he wasn't going to leave here without his old frenemy.

It had to be delusional, leftover feelings from his college years, all the time spent tutoring Toby and trying to get him to take his work seriously, all those times they'd spent laughing and talking about subjects both deep and ridiculous…

Vinay didn't really know what he needed, but he couldn't help but feel that Toby needed him.

"Are you sure?" said the salesman, clearly confused as to why Vinay had gone back here after being shown the premium model. "This one's a refurb. That's why he's on a discount."

A refurb. Someone had previously owned and sold Toby. He'd had his memories wiped at least twice now.

"Do you know why he was returned?"

"Ah, his original owner simply found a new relationship, and was displeased with the amount of attention this Romantic required. He's been wiped of those memories, and we've done our best to train out his unfortunate need for attention, of course…"

Vinay made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a choke. Of course Toby was attention-seeking as a pet. If there was one thing Toby couldn't stand, it was being ignored or bored.

And his previous owner hadn't appreciated that. He could imagine Toby's desperation as his bids for affection were rebuked by a busy owner. Lonely. Rejected. They surely didn't know how to handle him. Vinay knew, though. He always had.

"I want to buy this one."

The salesman was as surprised as Vinay was, going on about how they don't accept returns on refurbished pets. That hardly mattered. Vinay wasn't going to be returning him.

He was actually going to go through with this. He was going to own Toby.

No, he was going to own the pet that was once Toby. He wasn't the same, and Vinay couldn't treat him that way, lest he damage his new pet.

It would be fine. He'd stick to the rules in the Pet Owners' Handbook, the thick tome he'd already read half a dozen times, and it would be fine. He wouldn't bring up old memories. He'd give this pet a good life and all of the attention he deserved, at least when he was off work. It'd be fine.

And so he'd ended up in the sales office, signing mountains of paperwork to make him the legal owner of B211.

"We'd be happy to offer you any of our very affordable add-on packages," said the salesman. "We have additional skill training, discipline courses, and a wide variety of modifications we can make to your new pet before he goes home with you. For this particular pet, I would strongly recommend additional obedience and docility courses, to make sure he's well suited to your busy lifestyle."

"No, that won't be necessary," said Vinay, thinking of Toby's -- no, B211's -- eyes. Vinay had never seen him so quiet and docile. More obedience training seemed like the last thing he needed.

"Very well. If you change your mind, you can always give him discipline and obedience refreshers as necessary, although it might be more difficult for the pet once he becomes attached to you."

"I understand," said Vinay, signing another packet of papers. His brain was already swimming with how best he should welcome his new pet into his home. He'd planned for it extensively, read all the books, and of course Toby -- no, no, B211, damn it -- had to throw a wrench in his plans.

He was sure of one thing, though. B112 would be safe and happy with him if it was the last thing he did.

Previous > Masterlist

I'm sure this will go well.

@there-will-always-be-blood @kisa-writes @andithewhumper @handsinmotion @whumperhive

@eventide-triptych @pumpkinsncoffee

[raayllum]

a/n: sometimes i don't realize how much my autism has affected my life / relationships and then it slams into me. a ficlet

It's been an hour since the spat at negotiations, for lack of a better term—Opeli still winces when she thinks of the sharpness in the young prince's voice, straightening out his Evenere green robes with a finicky flourish—and Ezran had requested to be alone for the break.

Opeli had obliged him, not pleased he'd wanted distance from even Soren and Corvus when they had visiting nobles and servants over, but so long as they stood guard at wherever he'd gone, she couldn't really find it in her to object. Being king could be overwhelming even if you weren't eleven years old.

It's nearing the time negotiations will re-commence, though, and... she can't find him.

He's not in the kitchens, or one of the smaller dining halls he likes to use with Soren and Corvus. He's not with Callum, who went to the courtyard to sketch, a worried crease in his brow (he'd checked on his brother—you alright, Ez?—talked down the prince, but Ez had shooed him off).

Opeli is beginning to despair that maybe he's run off into one of the remaining secret passageways, or even gotten stuck somewhere, when she spots Soren and Corvus standing in front of the library doors. Corvus seems as troubled as Callum, Soren catching her eye and arm when she moves to go inside.

"I think he's having a rough time," Soren says softly. "You might wanna..."

"I don't know if we can delay the next meeting any further," Opeli says apologetically. He releases her, nodding but unhappy about it, and she pushes open the door.

It takes a few moments, peering through the tall aisles of shelves and one or two alcoves, but eventually she finds the young boy king in one of the armchairs tucked away in a corner, a book open in his lap. And in truth, Opeli hears him before she sees him, because Ezran is... crying.

Big fat tears rolling down his cheeks in ways she hasn't seen since they completed King Harrow's memorial statue based off Prince Callum's sketches, or since those early, overwhelming weeks of being king once the Moonshadow elf had left... Bait's not in his lap either, pawing at his thigh but otherwise ignored, which isn't like Ezran either; so much so, Opeli stops right in her tracks.

"I'm, er—" She starts, then stops. He's clearly not okay so there's no point in asking. She eases onto her knees instead beside his armchair, unsure of how to proceed until she knows what's distressing him. It's not far from the anniversary of the attack, so maybe...? "I'm afraid the meeting is going to resume, soon, King Ezran."

He sniffles, looking briefly at her and then just starting at the floor, his eyes hardening. He doesn't move. He doesn't even wipe away his tears.

She purses her lips. "Ezran?"

Finally he looks at her, his face contorting—livid like she's never seen. "I don't know how to do this, Opeli."

"King Ezr—"

"Prince Erik asked for more information, so I gave it, and then he snapped at me and—I just don't understand!" Ezran cries, tiny fingers curling into fists. His eyes go wide with frustration, searching for something he can't find. "I don't get it. We've always had these trade deals and they worked fine, and this new one is the exact same, but now the policy's a problem? And when I pointed out it's just like the old ones, he said it just feels like Evenere needs something different even though those things are there for a reason—and no one cares about the reason but me!"

Opeli reaches for his arm. "Ezran—"

He stands, pacing. "And then when I explain those reasons, it's like... I knew as a kid the other kids didn't like me because I talked too much, and I was boring about wanting to talk about bugs or animals, or—so I just... I tried so hard to use less words and always say what I mean, but people still didn't get it, or like it." He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears leaking out underneath. "And it's the same damn thing in court, I don't—at the last Summit, Prince Erik didn't mind how much I talked because we were agreeing on policy, but now that we disagree I-I can't, for some reason? I'm just trying to explain, but he thinks I'm being condescending, but I don't think I'm smarter than him, I don't, I try so hard to say things right and I just don't know how —"

"Ezran." She takes him by the shoulders and he looks up at her, red-eyed with a runny nose. She takes a deep breath for her own measure, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. "The prince, as many do, have an ego. You are doing your—"

"Well yeah, some people are jerks like him. But most people aren't, and I still can't... Why can't people just know you value them? Why do I have to remember to spell it out every time? Why do I have to read their mind and know what they need without them telling me? If I'm listening it's because I think we can reach common ground... Because the respect is already there. And I try so hard to explain so we can just reach common ground, but people just—they don't see that. And I don't know how to make them see that. I came up here to read hoping I'd find something so I can understand where His Highness is coming from, but it still doesn't make sense to me, and... I'm so tired, Opeli."

Gods, she wishes she had a better answer for him. She gives his shoulders a tiny squeeze, and then reaches up and takes off his crown. "Go to the gardens for the rest of the day," she says. "With your crownguard, or your brother, or both. Down by the town. I'll tell the prince and his delegates you're not feeling well."

Ezran's eyes shine as she presses the crown into his hands. "But—"

"No buts. It's like you said: you're tired. You deserve rest." Opeli offers up a tiny smile. "Go on."

Ezran steps away, bottom lip trembling, and then throws his arms tightly around her in the middle. They've never hugged before, she thinks, but she hugs him back now, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Opeli," he mumbles, some of the last tears fading. "'M sorry I'm so..."

She shushes him quietly. "You're a very special boy, my king. Not everyone is going to understand that. And I know it hurts, but not everyone needs to. Just keep... being yourself. We all love you here. You know that, don't you?"

He pulls back slowly, not smiling, but not looking nearly as worn down as before. He tucks his crown under one arm, and picks up Bait with the other. He has one last big sniffle. "Yes. I do."

[anastasiamaru]

Ukraine.Real-life story fragment

Oksana Chorna Ukrainian Armed Forces

"Spoiler: I'm fine"

...Have you ever washed blood off a car seat?Your own blood? There's a reason they say, 'You won't hear your own mortar whistling'... And I didn’t hear it either... Neither the whistle of the shell, nor the buzzing of the drone, nor even the sound of the launch. I remember smth(blood) pouring into my eye. I raised my left hand to wipe my cheek...

There was no pain at all. I ran to the car. Surprisingly, it was intact. I got in and drove away. The most horrifying injuries I saw at the stabilization point were cranio-cerebral injuries

When a pink mess that used to be responsible for thoughts, feelings, and memories spills from a hole in the head onto a white sheet.

Severed arms and legs, intestines neatly folded into a T-shirt, holes in the chest from which air escapes with a whistling sound—these can all be repaired. The essence of a person will live on, love, dream.

But the empty gaze of those who have lost themselves due to a traumatic brain injury scares me more than anything else...

...With my right hand, I steered the wheel, while with my left hand, I tried to feel my head to see if any foreign "artifacts of war" were sticking out of it. I even took a selfie to assess the extent of the damage to the "decision-making center" (my head).

Only after 10 minutes did I notice that blood was also flowing from my hand. I thought I needed to bandage it... At the next crossroads, I suddenly forgot where to go. It felt like I was here for the first time. Although I had already driven through the village twenty times.

A jeep drove by. I thought I should probably ask for help. But if they transferred me and took me to the stabilization point, I would have to leave my "Discovery" here, and then those bastards(russian soldiers) would definitely wreck it.

I didn't leave it either at the crossing in Bakhmut or in Avdiyivka, and I absolutely refuse to leave it here. I’m just obligated to get to the stabilization point by myself.

What scared me was that my wounds didn’t hurt. Just a dull noise in my head, like a severe migraine.

Closer to Konstantynivka, I started to recognize the road. When I arrived at the stabilization point, I even parked the car by a tree and locked it...

[dakotalun]

What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: PART 2-- Eddie helps you deal with your break up.

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

a/n: please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

"Uh, I guess you're wondering why I'm walking to your place at 10pm in the pouring rain," I tried to make a joke but it came out soft and broken.

"A little bit but I'm not gonna push you. You can tell me when you’re ready," The softness and sincerity in his voice makes me wanna start crying all over again. God why does he have to be so perfect all the time?

"Jamie um,” I pause, the wound still too fresh to speak of, “Broke up with me."

"What?! Why??" I can picture the expression in his face without even looking, mouth open and brows furrowed. Almost like an angry dad scolding their child, I would laugh at the thought if I wasn’t so damn sad right now.

"They said they had shit to work on and that having a partner would hold them back and they'd feel like they were lying to me if we kept going."

"Bullshit,” I wasn’t expecting this reaction out of him, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

"It's whatever, I just couldn't stay there and I can’t go home because Robin has Vickie over for the weekend, Chrissy is at Jason’s this weekend and apparently Nancy has an impromptu date with Johnathan, I was supposed to stay at Jamie's this weekend, but clearly…”

"You're staying here. No question. Do you need anything? Water? Tea?" He stands up and walks over to his small kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something for me to drink.

"Honestly I just wanna get out of these clothes," And cry. But I don’t say that because he’s seen me cry enough already.

"You can cry if you need to, you know. I won’t judge, it’s a perfectly understandable situation.” Can this man read my mind or something? I sure as shit hope not. I just nod and look down at my shaking hands, from either the cold, or sadness I can’t quite tell.

“I'll put on some water for tea then start the shower for you," He pulls out his kettle from above his fridge, filling it with water and turning it on. Then he disappears into his room and returns a minute later with a t-shirt, crew neck and a pair of his boxers.

"I wasn't sure if you had stuff to wear so here are some options, towels are in the bathroom. I'll be out here if you need anything."

I grab the pile of clothes from him, "Thank you."

"It's nothing. Anything for you," His smile is infectious and a small one spreads to my face as well.

His words mean so much more to me than he can ever imagine. I get up off the couch and head to the bathroom to shower off the mixture of rain water and tears. As the water hits me, my brain keeps thinking of all the things Jamie and I did together; buying Gregory, going to Lolla, spending weekends watching Criminal Minds and eating ice cream. Before I know it I'm crying and I can't stop the tears. I don’t know how much time has passed since I got in but I snap out of my crying fit when I hear a soft knock on the bathroom door.

I wipe my tears, as if it makes a difference with water pouring down on me, and clear my throat before speaking, “Uh yeah?”

“Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if you’d eaten yet?” His voice is slightly muffled from the door and the sound of the water doesn’t help either.

“I uh,” I pause before answering, I know that I haven’t eaten since Jamie and I were gonna cook something at their place but I also know that Eddie will want to pay for the food and him allowing me to stay here is already too much, “Yeah, I ate before I went over to Jamie’s”

“Hmm,” I hope he can’t tell I’m lying, “Okay.”

I let out a breath and go back to cleaning myself off, I need to get rid of their smell.

After my shower I put on his boxers and the crewneck he offered me. A genuine smile crosses my face when I notice it’s the same one he let me borrow in early August when we went to his lake house. But the happiness of the memory gets overshadowed by the thought of the fact that not only 4 hours before that I was in Chicago with Jamie, leaving Lollapalooza.

I shake my head and get rid of those thoughts before heading out to the living room with my dirty clothes in my hand. I see Eddie standing by his balcony door, hands in his pockets just staring out into the night sky. I watch him for a second and think about how someone like him can be so friendly and happy around me. It’s confused me since the day we met.

It was the first day of freshman orientation and we were all in a small classroom waiting for our group mentor to show up and tell us about what we’d be doing this week. I chose to sit in the middle of the room but in a seat next to the wall so I could rest my back against it and watch the entire room.

As I sat there scanning the room my eyes landed on a handful of interesting people, some that I’ve recognized from orientation day, others who just had interesting clothes or hair, and then there was Eddie. There was just something about him, his long curly hair, his dark clothes, the chains hanging around his neck and off his plants, and those rings.

I couldn’t help but stare, from what I could see he was clearly attractive and dressed very differently from what I’ve noticed most men wear. As I admired him from afar, our mentor came rushing in apologizing for being late. They had to make sure they had the right group since some people had to switch at the last minute.

We all turned our attention to the two mentors standing in the front as they talked about what the next few days were going to look like for us. I tried my best to retain the information but then they had us do a “get to know you” game and my heart dropped. I’ve always hated talking about myself and what I enjoy and it seemed kind of redundant to say I like art seeing as though this is an art school. But the curiosity to find out more about the mysterious man across the room was too strong.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ He Who Falls to Rage ✧₊⁺

Pairing: None for this. This is just me introducing my OC (I've talked about him to the point of nausea in the Discord server). But Guilliman is present. Cawl went to hide in case they came to blows or ganged up on him.

Arthur's Note: I don't know if I will actively write about Raserei on this blog. He's an OC I've been rping for like almost two decades at this point. But sometimes an itch must be scratched. If people like him cool If not oh well. Addition Note: Freeform with lore (just a smidge). He's one of the "lost" primarchs

Warnings: General Grimdarkness

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

He stood impossibly still, a glowing pale blue orb in a sea of black eyed Roboute Guilliman. He had never seen the other before, but there was a mark of familiarity. A mark of His work. Cawl and his little stunt was dangerous and foolish. Raserei even said as such as they fled.

Though the monster of a primarch did find it amusing that the Imperium had fallen so low, that one saw it fit to release him from his long intured prison.

Guilliman had forgotten what Raserei looked like. Massive like Vulkan, skin not as black, more like charcoal and soot, but the thick black scales on his body, looked like petrified wood, and massive horns jutted from his head, like a profane crown. Yet, a halo-like glow was around them, burning a dim cool light. Raserei looked like a beast, a monster from legend. This had to be why he and Dorn had Malcador wipe their memories. If he was loose during the Heresy? All would have been ash.

"You visited me once," Raserei spoke. His voice was so deep even Roboute felt the voice in his bones. Vibrating and resonating his power. Yet, Raserei was speaking quietly, "Gazed upon me while I was held in stasis. Malcador was with you, and one other. Told you why I was cast aside like an unwanted toy. And you agreed. So reviled by my presence. Abomination I believe was the term used."

Guilliman stood silent letting the larger primarch speak. Though not spoken yet, he knew what was coming, what cut was about to be made. Perhaps it was deserved, perhaps not.

Raserei smiled, a toothy grin, showing the maw of fangs in his mouth, "So tell me, Brother. Who led the charge? Who cracked the weak foundation open? Was it one who looked like me?" he shook his head, "No. Couldn't be, He did not tolerate malformed things in his perfect world. I imagine it was the most flawless of you who did."

A low growl came from Guilliman, "If you think —"

"I think nothing! Save I was cast aside for my looks. So worried about preserving a race he saw so weak he made gods in his vain image because he did not believe in the will and strength man already had! Made in His image and corrupted as such! Tell me Brother, how did he get the means to make us? Hm? How did Lazarus pay his debts?! Do you know why he let us toil on planets? Only to collect us like tools he forgot he had? Tell me! If you know him so well, tell me!"

Roboute's eyes were narrow and jaw clenched. His massive armored fists balled up.

"He did what he needed for the best of mankind." Guilliman spat.

"Yes, and look how well that played out," Raserei laughed, "Do you want to really know why? Why he didn't cast me down, but left me to rot in that cell? Not because I looked like I do. But because I refused to kneel before him like some god-king. Because I called him on his hubris. Pride is the greatest evil, and he was full of it."

Raserei looked down at Roboute's fists, "But enough talk, are we to mend the stars together, or is one of us going to take the long rest?"

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.

[neonhellscape]

gay tech priests standing by a computer, colourised

[lesbiangracehanson]

another day, another j7 scene that makes me feel insane 

[scalpho]

if you say bill is a better parent than hallariel i'm going to assume you're a misogynist and stupid and if you say hallariel is a better parent than bill i'm going to assume you're thinking with your dick and stupid. bottom line is you're stupid because they both totally SUCK!

[sqlmn]

by the power of modern day AU, I am delighted to announce that Fulj can have a girlfriend ! I haven't named her yet but have a few in mind so ... soon (TM). She is the one that she loved in canon before the whole memory wipe and as you can see, penchant for black, black hair, brown eyes, and prone to weird statements. Perfect balance to Deacon's weird questions.

HOWEVER ! I mentioned the problem of Deacon still having facial blindness to someone and how there is no glow from the deities for him to identify them. And her solution is the funniest thing ever so I have to do it. He identifies people by smell. So when he is in the same room as Ymber and Oh when they first cross paths, he doesn't really think about it. But later when he sees Ymber alone and gets the same kinda scent, same cologne or something, he knows that's not the taller guy therefore that's his scent ! Perfect!

So... unfortunately.... Deacon really can't beat the weirdness allegations in AUs...... he's stuck like that. Fulj has referred to him as a guard dog in canon and now he's a tracking dog. RIP to him.

(and because Deacon gets my facial blindness I am giving Fulj's girlfriend ANOTHER trait of mine I wouldn't wish on anyone because it's also really funny. She can't smell. She can taste ! She just can't smell. So she loves talking to Deacon because he explains smells as foods for her to get the vibe across. Which are REALLY weird conversations no one else wants to hear.)

[doodlboy]

Yk realistically if the om bros were fucked up like demons should be, they wouldn't be that disturbed by bloodlust el's personality.

However, I think the terror and angst comes from the fact that they lived with him his whole life, and for the most part, he was very passive and calm and never immediately resorted to violence, so to see [what used to be] their human revel in bloodshed is.. unsettling.

[thedeadthree]

🥀💌🕯️💀 <33

*old person yells at cloud* THEORY TIME <3 but i was thinking of the skill trees screens we’ve seen so far and i am like…… super certain that ingellvar is the mourners surname and soo that calls for an update to irulannes pin interest board <33

(ill cry change it if it isn’t though but hehe anyway im stoked to at last have a surname for when i save her edits bc rn her folder says i.datv xixjjxhx *WHEEZE* 💀)

[velichorus-k]

JOURNEY'S END WHAT. WHAT. WHAT WAS THAT. FUCK OFF

[i-am-become-a-name]

An old man. Well, he was old in that incarnation, anyway. An old man and a child. They were no threat to anyone, they were... family [...] Someone tipped off the old man. He stole a TARDIS and escaped from Gallifrey. With his granddaughter.