#worst part is it kind of worked for a while

[tealvenetianmask]

I want to talk about a kind of troubling reaction I've been seeing to both Apology Tour and Ghostfuckers among parts of the fandom. The person is usually a reaction youtuber but sometimes someone writing on tumblr or twitter. They say something along the lines of "oh, I'm glad Blitz is being forced to confront his crimes/traumas/pain. This is the only way he will finally heal."

That's not how healing works.

I know that reaction youtubers don't always have the most developed takes because they're . . . you know . . . reacting in the moment. But I think it's still worth talking about.

I'm going set aside the people who seem to believe that Blitz needs to be punished for his crimes, and address those who genuinely think that getting a tidal wave of his own trauma in his face is what he needs to heal.

There's an attitude in contemporary culture that traumas are something people need to confront. As in, put on a brave face and dive in like a big boy. I blame capitalism, rugged individualism, and all the pieces of media that tie up a character's arc neatly by having them confront their darkest fears and insecurities. It can put a nice bow on things, but it isn't really how healing from trauma works.

Apology Tour:

Blitz gets confronted by a shit ton of people who hate him, at least some of whom are his exes, who he feels he's personally damaged. The decor and party games are all about killing and torturing him. Verosika confronts him about how much he hurt her. Oh, and then he sees the love of his life, who he's just recently pushed away, making out with another guy- proof, in his eyes, that Stolas is happier without him. And this all reflects the underlying fears he already has about who he is as a person (shown to us by Truth Seekers).

So what was the takeaway? Blitz came to the conclusion that he doesn't always want to be like this (good, but like . . . worth this much pain?). He flops on his steering wheel (relatable). He stops trying to reach out to Stolas (uh oh . . . ). He spends A MONTH spiraling in his own misery and making a mess of all aspects of his life until he's dragged out of it by a caring friend.

The party doesn't empower Blitz to change. It knocks him down and fucking traumatizes him (seriously, images of Stolas from the party show up later in his trauma reel) too much for him to be able to do actually work toward said change. I suspect that if left to his own devices, he would have kept spiraling for quite a while longer. It's one thing to want to change, and another to try to do so alone in the aftermath of a pile-on.

Ghostfuckers

After Blitz drags himself out of his hole of cheesy ice cream and despair to "play sex ghosts" (escapism, again, still knocked down by Apology Tour), infester demon Rolando picks him out as an easy target and assaults him, yes, assaults, with horrific images of his worst traumas and fears.

Not to state the obvious, but Rolando isn't interested in helping Blitz heal. He's trying to kill the guy. He wants to engulf Blitz in his trauma to the extent where he's consumed by it and loses the will to fight back. And as some excellent posts by others have pointed out already, he very likely would have succumbed if not for Millie's support.

Millie helps Blitz get through the onslaught by telling him about what makes him great and how he's improved her life and showing him love and care. And by literally beating the fucking infester out of him. Because there's someone in him who's hurting him, who's re-traumatizing him against his will. She takes him away from the reel of horrible memories.

So . . . do I think that confronting traumas can play a role in healing? Sure. But only if it's consensually (which neither of these situations are) and when the person trying to heal is ready. And most likely in small doses. No one's going and successfully confronting every horrible thing that's ever happened to them in one go.

And in my humble opinion, it's not going to work (for anyone, but especially not for Blitz) alone and without a healthy dose of kindness and compassion (both external and internal).

Blitz has a long road ahead of him toward healing, and it's going to be hard work on his part but also require love and support from the people in his life.

In a wonderful moment near the end of Ghosfuckers, Blitz and Millie work together to get Blitz's wrecked van unstuck and push it back through the portal into Hell. I love it because it's so simple and it kind of tells us everything we need to know. This sweet and salty gremlin has a lot of work ahead of him, but he doesn't have to do it alone.

[mochiwonz]

♡ You Love Me Too? ⸝⸝

» content : fem!reader x lee heeseung , fluff , cursing , skinship (kissing , hugging etc) heeseung is older than reader by 2 years , he babies her a litttleee , hes also kind-of a flirt and doesn't rly realize it ♡

» word count : 1.1k

» note : wrote this with orange haired hee in mindddd :3 i apologize for any grammar mistakes and this is my first time actually writing a fic, so pls don't hate me if this is complete ass !! (leave some notes or reblog if you enjoy :D)

Another agonizing day at the coffee shop. Disrespectful people were definitely the absolute fucking worst. Just because you're serving them drinks doesn't mean they get to treat you like shit. God, you just wanted to be in his arms, having him caress your hair and sit with you while he listened to you ramble on and on about how terrible work is. Heeseung always made you feel validated, like your feelings were real feelings and that they actually mattered. You sigh as you text him for the sixth time today "hey hee, i'm home..where are you? txt me plz" At this point, you're getting worried. He's supposed to be home, he always answers your texts.

*Ping!* Oh shit, it could either be your boss or heeseung. "Please be hee please be hee!!" you say out loud, hoping it'll do something. You slowly pick up your phone, hands shaking, and-

"YES ITS HEE!!!!!! FINALLY oh my god"

His text read "hey sweets <3 sorry for not responding...was busy doing smth at the salon. c u soon!" What? Salon? When has he ever been to the salon?....oh. The last time he went was when he dyed his hair back to black.

Oh shit, you're in big. fucking. trouble. God knows how much you love and adore and want heeseung, who wouldn't? He's like an angel, perfect nose with big bambi eyes, tall, and has the most beautiful smile you've ever laid your eyes on. One problem though, he's your bestfriend. Bestfriend of 4 years, actually. Bestfriends don't like eachother like that. It's fine, you just have a little crush...it's not like you love love him, right? Plus, he probably doesn't even want you like that.

Right as you were about to make your way to the shared bathroom, you hear a sound. Footsteps. Footsteps that could only belong to lee heeseung. Fuck.

"Hey sweets" he says, and you can hear his grin. Surprised, not expecting his voice to be all up in your ear, you quickly turn around. Oh. My. God. You're faced with a grinning heeseung with......orange hair?!

"YOUR HAIR IS ORANGE??" you exclaim quite loudly, sounding a bit too excited. He chuckles a little, and holy fuck he looks absolutely delicious.

"Yeah sweets, whatcha ya think?" he asks, in an almost flirtatious tone of voice.

What do you think??? You think you're 1. about to fucking explode, 2. lunge at him because he's so fucking fine, and 3. cum in your pants. Or, to be honest, all of them at once!

"Oh yeah, right uhm it looks fine!" God, you made it so obvious.

"You sure? You seem like you're lying sweets." he says while looking deeply into your eyes with his own beautiful bambi eyes and playing with his new orange hair. You swear he's purposely doing this. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, fuck. Get ahold of yourself y/n.

"Hee, of course i'm not lying. You look good, really good actually..." Shit, shit, shit. Why did you add that last part?? All you want to do right now is dig a hole into the ground and bury yourself.

You hadn't realized you'd been looking at the ground for a whole minute - sucked into your thoughts, until heeseung put his big hands on your chin and lifted your face to meet his.

"Yeah? I look really good?" he questions, voice laced with some sort of excitement. And as soon as your eyes meet his, he smiles. And all of a sudden, you realize, you don't have a crush on this man. You're whipped for him, you're in love with lee heeseung.

"Yeah..." you say under your breath. "Well thanks sweets, means alot coming from you, you know that right?" he tells you, with a sweet voice - almost cooing.

You don't respond, you can't respond. You're flustered as fuck. The man you realized that you're in love with, is less than 2ft away from you and almost...flirting...with you?

Almost a whole minute of silence goes by, nobody moves. Pained from the awkward silence, you decide to say something.

"Hey hee?.." you say, voice sounding small. "Mhm?" he hums, interested in what you're going to say next. "So okay, how do I say this. I think i'm in love with you. Actually, wait no, scratch that shit, i'm so fucking in love with you. I don't know if you even see me like that. You're so perfect inside and out, the man of my dreams actually. I don't even know what to do with myself when i'm around you. When you talk to me in a gentle voice or comfort me when i'm upset, all I want to do is kiss you. And I knoww this is cringey as fuck but I can't help it" you say, now out of breath from your rapping. (LMAOO<33)

Heeseung has an expression on his face that you can't seem to put your finger on. Shocked, unhappy, confused...you don't know. Before you could come up with any negative thoughts, he finally talks.

"Sweets...you mean that?" he asks, voice just as gentle as before, if anything - even more gentle. Can he stop staring at you like that? You're on the verge of exploding.

"Of course I mean it, dumbass." He giggles in response, and then brings his left hand onto your head as if he's patting your head and right hand to your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb. "Fuck, I love you so much beautiful. And you're right, i'm a complete dumbass. I waited way too long to confess, i'm sorry sweets." he says, smiling at you and you swear you can see hearts in his eyes.

"Wait...you love me too?"

Instead of responding to you, he brings you closer to him. You can feel his hand slowly moving from the top of your head to your waist. To not make it awkward, you bring your arms around his neck, causing you to tippy toe a little. He has the softest smile on his face. You thought you were in love with him? God, he is so in awe of you and your beauty. You probably weren't even aware that your cheeks were all pink and adorable.

You watch his eyes move from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. "Sweets, can I kiss you? Wanna know how you taste so bad."

And shit, how could you ever say no to him?

"Yes, please kiss me" you say in response, sounding desperate(as fuck).

As soon as he hears the "yes" slip out of your beautiful lips, he's quick to bring your faces closer together and close the gap. And fuck, his lips are perfect. It's like your lips were made for his and his were made for yours. Both of you were savoring this moment, your very first kiss with the man of your dreams, lee heeseung. Once you were out of breath, you finally pulled away - a string of saliva connecting your guys' lips.

Wasting no time, he picks you up as if you were as light as a feather, and spins you around like the princess you are. "I can finally call you my girl and my princess, and kiss you whenever I want!!" he exclaims, and you can tell hes smiling hard.

You laugh, feeling the happiest you've felt in forever. You look down to see him smiling at you, looking at you as if you were unreal. An angel. His angel ♡

oh my god LMAO hope this isn't too bad :p my other works are here <33

[bunnys-kisses]

the dnf club (vol. 4)

lance stroll

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, mating press, car sex, breast play, hickies & bites, semi-public sex, dirty talk, mentions of children

a/n: thank you for the warm reception for the others in this little series! i'm always open to hearing about what ideas you may have. my inbox is open <3

carlos edition // franco edition // alex edition // nico edition

you know this was defeating for lance. the kind of defeating that left you feeling horrible for your boyfriend. while he wasn't going to win the wdc, it was important to have a good season. and when you watched the red flag be drawn and him hauled back to the paddock. you only knew how to be there for him.

while he seated to cool off, you pressed yourself up against him. the level he was at meant that your breasts were in his face. and while it was an innocent action. lance grabbed your ass when no one was looking. you knew what would happen tonight, to get the anger out from a shitty performance.

you two barely got to the car before lance was all over you. he practically guided you into the backseat. the car was in a far part of the parking lot and with tinted windows. it was a tad cramped back there but you two would make due. especially when lance got his hands on you.

"you really are my number one fan, huh? but i guess you're much more than that. you're everything to me." he pushed up your t-shirt to expose your bra underneath. a black lacy number that made the blood rush south for lance, "anything i want, you give. quite an admirable thing." he got the bra off of you and his mouth on your chest. he tongue grazed across your nipples. he gave them both attention before he started to leave heavy marks across your chest.

he wanted to mark you. he wanted to see pretty bruises on your chest that'll last for days on end. and when they faded, he would just add more. he felt the disappointment of such a horrible loss. he didn't even get a place in the race, he couldn't complete it. and it made emotion swirl in his gut as he rubbed your thigh. soon enough you got your jeans off and your panties. you were left naked in the backseat with your lover at the track.

"you look prettier with my marks." he said as he pressed one of the bruises on your collarbone, "the kind of pretty that makes me go crazy. thank you, thank you." he groaned, "for letting me take out all the anger."

you cupped his face and looked into his dark eyes, you said to him, "you'd never actually hurt me, lance. so i'm not worried." then kissed him square on the mouth. you helped him out of his jeans and his aston martin t-shirt. you were pressed into the back corner of the backseat with your taller boyfriend crowded in your space. he took you by the legs and pressed them into your chest.

it allowed him to hit your pussy at just the right area, exposed in the air of the car. slowly the windows started to fog up as he sank into you. his cock really did hit every right place inside of you. the blunt head rubbed up against your g-spot as he started to move his hips up against your ass.

and then like butter over popcorn, the anger melted off of his shoulders. he groaned as he rutted against you. while it wasn't the more comfortable position, it was enough to get the two of you going. you felt the fire in your gut as he moved against you.

"fuck, baby." he said as he worked his hips against you, "you feel like a dream under me." his words were tense as pleasure combed through his body. there was something about you that just got him riled up. even on his worst days, he still had you. he had all of you. he allowed himself to bask in what made you amazing and fuck you until he got his fill. he could feel the pleasure on his tongue and seep into his blood.

you whined, "please, lance. we have to be quiet." then felt him hit just the right spots that made you tense up and moan. your bruised nipples got hard and the additional feeling made the pleasure run faster through you.

the air of the car got warm as the two of you moved together. the sex was hot and with your knees to your chest the pleasure only got more intense.

"next year.' you panted, "it'll go great. you'll get them next time." you moaned as lance continued to thrust up against you in just the right way. you felt the hammer in your chest as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts.

"it will." he said, "and then we'll celebrate the victory. you, me and a nice hotel bed. maybe some champagne, maybe i'll even tie you up." he chuckled, "i bet you'd love that. if i took my belt and put it around those pretty wrists."

you clenched around him and he got his answer. he continued to fuck you, bully the blunt head of his cock against your most softest areas. he knew exactly how to make you feel good. let the dirty words come off his tongue. you whined and he chuckled lowly.

"ah, i bet you'd love that. even if i lost next year. you'd still let me mark up your little body. let me ruin that sweet fucking cunt." he groaned, "fuck, you feel amazing. you know i'd give you anything you needed or wanted. everything i have is yours. and everything you have in mine." he shuddered with a heavy want as he continued to fuck you achy cunt.

the sounds of sex filled the car, and the scent of sweat paired with it. the car rocked a little as he moved and you tried to meet his thrusts. his weight pressed on you as he had you in a mating press. your pussy exposed in the low light coming from the parking garage. the sight of you under him was beautiful. you were so perfect for him, you'd happily give yourself over to him at any chance. let him use that sweet cunt for stress relief.

"fuck, lance." you moaned as the pace was picked up. you knew you weren't going to last much longer. the pleasure was a thick throb in your head as he fucked you. his lips captured any skin he could find. trailed them across your cheeks and jaw. he even laid a small hickey on the curve of your jawbone. which made you grow even more wet.

he gave a few more thrusts because he slammed his entire length into your achy cunt and finished inside of you. but he wasn't going to leave you without pleasure. he continued to rut up against you. he could feel the fire in his gut as he moved against you. your noises got a bit ore higher pitched as you felt the slam of pleasure inside of your needy core.

you whimpered and whined as he continued to rut up against you. he fucked you through your orgasm, and even a second orgasm for himself. he made sure that not a drop was wasted as he slowed to a stop. he pulled out and when your hips dropped, a bit of his cum got onto the leather of the seated.

you both panted heavily. lance eyed your naked body. you looked at him and his dark eyes soon lingered on you. he pulled you in for another heated kiss and you knew this wasn't going to be the only round tonight. you just hoped that the rest of them would be somewhere a little more comfortable.

-

you watched lance pull into second place at the 2025 brazil grand prix. you stood with the rest of the team and when he crossed the finish line, everyone cheered. and you looked to the baby in your arms.

he was sound asleep despite his father's near victory. your little escapade in the backseat of the car led to the eventually birth of your son three months ago. he was asleep in your arm, ears covered with noise cancelling headphones while lance was having a stellar season.

"he did it, daddy got podium." you whispered to your son.

you kissed the baby on his round little face and heard lance over the radio. you knew this year would be better, and that was becoming fact. <3

[lewmagoo]

I saw you were writing blurbs! I was wondering if you can write one for Bob Floyd from the smut list? Number 4, maybe Bob is injured but desperately needs his partner?

slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

he was fine. really, he was. just a little bruised, and very sore. he and phoenix had a close call during training that day, and it had forced them to eject from a jet that was hurdling at breakneck speed toward the earth. bob felt as if he’d been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. he ached in places he didn’t even know he could ache. but that wasn’t even the worst of it. no, the worst part was the look on your face when you’d come rushing into his room. you looked so frightened, and he hated that he was the cause of that fear and worry.

when you got the call that he’d been injured, your world tilted on its axis. thankfully your boss had allowed you to leave work early so you could be with your husband. you weren’t even aware of his condition. all you knew was that there’d been an accident, and that he was in the med bay, and no other details were able to be provided at that time. you were going in blind, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. would he be unresponsive? barely hanging on to life? these thoughts spiraled in your mind as you rushed down the hall toward the room they’d put him in. the only thing that gave you some sense of ease was the fact that he was in a recovery room, and not a care unit.

when you burst into the room, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. he was obviously shaken, and there were some visible cuts and bruises, but he was in one piece, and he was alive. your knees almost buckled, but you pushed yourself forward until you reached him. “oh, bobby,” you whimpered. his eyes filled with tears, and you were quick to sit beside him and carefully wrap your arms around him, wary of doing anything that might cause him pain. “i was so scared. i didn’t know if you were okay or not.”

“i’m fine, sweetheart. just a little banged up.” he leaned over to kiss your head, despite the pain that flashed through his ribs. “one of the engines malfunctioned. we had to eject,” he explained.

“how’s nat?” you inquired, hoping she was fine.

“she’s okay. kind of beating herself up over it, even though it wasn’t her fault. she got us both safely out of the jet, that’s what matters.”

relief settled in your chest at the confirmation that your husband’s pilot was safe. you made a mental note to thank her for keeping your bobby out of harm’s way. “what are they saying as far as when you can be released?”

“it’s up to me. either i can stay for observation or i can sign some papers and get released tonight. i think i’m gonna do that. i’d rather spend the night in our bed than in this stuffy old hospital,” came his response.

that was how you found yourselves heading home a few hours later, bobby in the passenger seat as you drove. you held his hand the entire ride home, unwilling to let go. no words were spoken into the silence of the car. nothing could come close to expressing the way you felt. how terrified you’d been that you had lost him. thank god you hadn’t, but what if still lingered in your mind.

it lingered in his, too. long after you pulled into the driveway and guided him into the house. long after you helped him get ready for bed. long after you got him settled beneath the covers. he kept replaying the incident in his mind. the terror, the adrenaline, the realization that this moment could be his last.

“i was thinking of you,” he whispered. so quiet you couldn’t hear him.

“what was that?” you softly asked as you slid into bed beside him.

his mouth quivered. “i was thinking of you, when i was hurdling toward the ground. i thought…i thought for sure i was going to die. that i was never going to see your face again. hear your voice.” he squeezed his eyes shut, although his tears began to slide down his cheeks. “i-i’m glad it didn’t end that way. i’m glad i get another chance to tell you how much i love you.”

your own tears had begun to fall, and a soft sob escaped your throat. gingerly, you kissed him. tears mixing. mouths absorbing the sounds of each other’s weeping. although you were both reeling from this experience, there was an underlying tone of desperation. it manifested in you carefully climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. in your hands resting upon the sides of his neck, and his upon your hips. and when you parted, you could see it in his eyes. an unspoken need. something so strong and impassioned he could not voice it with mere words.

“please, honey, i…” he couldn’t speak. could barely breathe. suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire.

“i know,” you breathed against his mouth. “are…are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i’m sure.” trembling voice. barely able to breathe.

once again, you kissed him. you were frantic, yet gentle, as you rid yourself of your pajamas, and guided his soft sweatpants down his legs. lips finding his again, you reached down to wrap your hand around his soft cock, stroking him to full hardness as your other hand came down to prepare yourself to take him. it wasn’t long before you were aligning him with you, and he looked down to watch you sink down onto him. a guttural whimper escaped his throat, and his chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“oh! oh, sweetheart,” he sighed as you sank down fully, body flush with his. he wrapped his arms around your body, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders, holding him close, his head against your chest.

“i’ve got you,” came your whisper of reassurance. you held each other, bodies joined as one. tears streaming down your cheeks. mouths open and hot against each other’s. crying and moaning, breathing words of love and adoration. words of devotion.

“never let me go,” he pleaded. he wished you could hold him forever. that he could stay here in your arms, protected from the rest of the world, basking in the warmth of your love.

“never,” you sighed, hips rolling against his, trying your best not to hurt him. but you weren’t hurting him. far from it. you made him feel more alive than he’d felt all day.

“i love you,” he confessed into the air. “i need you. i never want to live without you.”

fingers laced through his hair, you let your forehead rest against his. “i love you too. never wanna live without you, either.”

the gravity of the situation weighed heavy on you both, but you took solace in this intimate connection. and if only for a little while, right here, connected to each other, you found peace. your bobby was safe in your arms. and you were thanking the stars that they’d seen fit to let him come back home to you.

[redux-iterum]

Salute to a Brief, Precious Companion

I just came home from the vet. If you missed the notice on Friday, Rocky has been euthanized due to failing health. I'm a little bit of a mess right now, so apologies if this post isn't coherent or it's overly-emotional. I just feel I should pay my respects and tell you all Rocky's story. Be prepared. This is a long one.

This was Rocky. Nicknames included Wocky, Rocky-Pocky, Rockadocious, and Little Man. He was an incredibly sweet and incredibly skinny critter who somehow even Jupiter outsized. I only had him for 7 or 8 months, but what lovely months they were.

Rocky came to me from a horrible situation - someone who is technically part of the family (and do I dearly wish they weren't) is one of the worst pet owners I've ever seen in my life, and he regrettably had Rocky for over 10 years. That is, 10 years trapped in a single room with a connected bathroom where his rarely-cleaned litterbox (singular, shared with multiple cats) was located. He didn't have anything: no comfort, no entertainment, pellets that could barely pass for cat food, and no attention. This was supposedly to save him from a dog that had a habit of killing every small animal it came across, but once that dog died, as did Rocky's companions, he still wasn't allowed out of that room because the idiot didn't want cat fur all over his furniture. Mind you, his dishes in the pantries had dust all over them, if that tells you how he lives his life.

Anyway, a relative of his called me and begged me to take Rocky, being unable to stand his solitude and wails for affection any time she went to that house. I wasn't looking for another cat at the time, but I agreed, on the condition that the former owner pay for the initial vet visits and whatever treatments were needed. Rocky was very visibly unwell when I saw him - underweight, crooked-backed and smelling of sickness. I never had a high opinion of his owner in the first place, but as time went on and I saw the effects of Rocky's ailments and the consequences of him never seeing a vet in those 10 years... well. If murder was legal.

Rocky's first 2 weeks in my house were disastrous. He attacked Moses, Jupiter and Moonshine any time he saw them, had no idea that he wasn't allowed to just pee wherever he wanted, and was frightened and confused by toys. It took several months for him to understand the concept of batting a ball around for fun, and he never did fully get that sleeping on a soft pile of blankets is much nicer than a hard table. I was extremely close to seeking out another home for him, certain that this wasn't going to work and I had just ruined the energy of the house for my other poor cats.

But somehow, Rocky turned around! He realized the other cats weren't a threat to him (all three of them are excellent at handling tense situations with fellow felines, and they never struck back or hissed at him during his rampage), and started seeking them out for companionship. Of course, it had been a few years since he'd seen another living cat, and he'd kind of ruined his initial impression on them with his poor behavior, so it took a while for them to fully relax around him. He and Jupiter very quickly were forced to become friends as both of them wanted on my lap at all times and weren't willing to give up their seat to each other. They eventually sought each other out and would sleep together even without me being there.

Rocky practiced being friendly on Jupiter, including grooming him. Amusingly, Rocky didn't quite remember how to groom another cat, so he ended up licking the fur the wrong way and getting Jupiter all slobbery, like a dog had licked his head. Jupiter never minded, purring along and letting Rocky do his thing.

Moonshine was more hesitant to let Rocky sit on her or curl up by her, but Moonshine's never held a grudge in her life and conceded towards the latter third of our time with him.

Moses...

Well, y'all know Moses. He was just as grumpy with this other old man as he is with everyone else. Though interestingly, over this weekend, he was unusually kind to Rocky, and actively laid down next to him and let Rocky touch him.

In fact, everyone was extra nice this weekend. I suspect they knew something was up from my energy and mood. They were sticking close to me as well.

As Rocky got more comfortable in the house, he really showed his personality. He followed me around everywhere, couldn't force out a loud meow if his life depended on it, wanted on my lap at all times (making up for a decade of loneliness, I guess), and demonstrated a sweetness and cheerfulness that couldn't be beat. He was, by far, the best at taking medicine that I have ever experienced with a pet. He would swallow his pills with no struggle and allowed me to give him shots of vitamins without so much as a twitch. It's extra-impressive for how long he went without those things. Really, his only fault was that he would have accidents around the house - everything else about him was wonderful.

I knew he was a hospice case when I took him in. He was sick and old; he wasn't long for this world, whatever I did. I still feel like I failed him for only giving him half a year of a comfortable, happy life compared to the decade of misery he experienced. Everyone tells me that it's quality over quantity, and that he got to live a wonderful last bit, and I should be proud of that. I hear them. But my friends can attest that I've spent the last two weeks kicking a tantrum about how unfair it is that he didn't get more time with me. I won't pretend I'm the very best pet owner in the whole wide world, but god knows I'm at least better than his previous owner, and I provided everything I had, whatever it costed. I felt like I owed Rocky at least a year of joy and love, and he didn't even get that. It's not fair. It's just not fair.

It's amazing how attached you can get to an animal you know will die soon.

Rocky's ashes will be coming to me in a couple weeks. He'll join the rest of my pets on my desk, and that way he'll stay with me. I'm grateful that he got to fall asleep in my arms and that his pain and weakness is over. Wherever he is, he's comfortable.

I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you, Rocky. You deserved the world.

[izudeeilo]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But...you can't pick a friend.

Part .1 • Part.3

Part 2

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Ochaco was right when she said this was something you had to see. All of them were really talented and you couldn’t keep your eyes away from the ball flying back and forth between the two teams. You were sitting on the bleachers, book and paper ready in your lap for a good moment to capture. For the time being you had only managed to sketch some quick dynamic poses of the boys.

They were a bit too quick for you to take at least a minute to sketch out something more detailed.

This sport was amazing to see but to practice yourself? a hard no. You were convinced you’d be on the floor sweating and dying before the second set would start. Your stamina wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the best either and you could see from how much they ran and jumped in such a small space that this would exhaust you more than your school work.

And that’s saying something…

The referee suddenly whistled, signifying the end of the first 2 sets. Mina, who you now knew was the team’s manager, handed them water bottles and towels. Hanta hung his towel around his neck before taking a long sip from his bottle. After he finished, his eyes scanned the bleachers before landing on you. He smiled and winked.

You smile back, a little taken back as you feel your cheeks get a little warm. You wave your hand slightly at him. He turned his head back at Mina and their coach standing next to her, listening to whatever they had to say.

Before you know it they went back on the court, finishing their last sets.

The last whistle echoed in the gym and you whipped your head back to the court and clapped your hands. They all let out a sigh of relief, Kaminari laying on the floor and Kirishima soon joining him.

The coach approached Hanta who lifted his shirt up revealing his lean torso to wipe off the sweat of his face. They began talking and your hand suddenly moved on its own towards your paper. Eyes going up and down as you quickly sketch out the pose he was in.

You finally stop going back to him to now focus more on the details.

Drawing thicker lines on the outside of his body, some small shadows here and there to add more depth. Hair strands falling onto his face, ball in his left hand leaning onto his hip—

“How’s it going?” a voice suddenly said, startling you.

You look up, quickly hiding the drawing with your arms as best as you could. Your body leaning forward awkwardly as you smile.

”Hiii, um great?” you chuckled.

”Did you sketch out some things? Did I good ?” He threw multiple questions at you and wiggled his eyebrows in a teasing way.

Looking the other way, you laugh at his antics.

”Y’all were quite quick but yeah I did draw some things and you did great, amazing even!” You turn your head back. “Your reflexes were crazy out there, you must have trained so hard.” you ramble out.

He looks at your face with a sweet smile on his face and you continue rambling about the game. He tilts his head and asks.

”Can I take a peak?”

You stop talking and meet his eyes “take a peak at what?”

”Your sketches ?” he laughs.

Oh right. You forgot all about them while you were talking his ear off.

”Oh..yeah uh here” you smile awkwardly, handing him the paper and turning your head, kind of embarrassed knowing you chose that moment to draw.

He takes the paper in his hand and scans the multiple drawings, smiling as he recognises his friends. He turns the paper over to reveal the more detailed sketch you had drawn.

His eyes widen slightly as his thumb gently runs over the lines.

“Shit that’s…that’s fucking insane. I look so good” he laughs as he looks at you.

You laugh with him. “You think?”

“Of course, man, that's the greatest I’ve ever looked. You really have amazing skills, you’re going to kill that study, I just know it” he wraps his arms on your shoulder, hugging you from the side.

”You mind if I take a pic of this?” he asks.

”No go ahead!” you answer, relieved that he likes it.

“Wait until my ma hears about her son getting drawn by a pretty girl” he says as he runs off chuckling.

Your mouth hangs open before you yell at him. “Your mom?! Hanta don’t you dare—“ You grab your things and try to catch up with him.

After a few seconds, you stop outside, hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath. Looking up, you see Hanta way too far from you, waving his hand at you in a teasing way before disappearing behind some bushes.

You roll your eyes and begin walking to your car, which was parked not too far away.

You arrive at your apartment and are greeted by the smell of warm food. You hang your jacket on the hanger and take your shoes off.

”What’s tonight's menu?” you say.

Two heads pop from the kitchen door.

”We made some chicken stew!” Ochaco and Himiko say at the same time.

“Oh I can’t wait” you smile as you go put your things back in your room. Putting up your hair in a more comfortable hairstyle, you make your way to the living room and sit on the couch with the girls.

“What do y'all want to watch tonight?” Himiko says clicking on the Netflix icon.

”I heard that the Addams Family is on Netflix now” you suggest.

”For real— Perfect, let's watch it!” Ochaco says excitedly as you all begin eating your food.

a/n a shorter chapter this time sorry! i wasn't home last week, so i couldn't work on anything 😭

[dinsbeskar]

I AM SCREAMING HE IS SO AWFUL OH GOD

“My gentle darling, you have a fever. You must have had a nightmare,” he told you sweetly. “I told you to stay in bed.”

Fuck's sake, the way I'd be like "yes babe you're right, I'll go back to bed" ughhhhhh he's so evil for this!!!

“No emissary of The Valar would do this,” you turned your face around to lay your eyes on your husband again as more tears streamed down your cheeks. He looked both – hurt to be accused and angry to be caught at the same time. The most confusing reaction you could expect. “My husband would not do this,” you added, nearly inaudibly.

At that, he snorted. And you only sobbed some more.

OOOOOHHHH THE AUDACITY, hurt to be accused???? Reign it in bro, you've been caught!!! It's the snorting for me though, the unnecessary hurt to the literal mother of his child, goddddd I hate him!!

“I have many names,” Annatar smirked at your question as if it was bringing him satisfaction that his silly and naive wife had finally realised the dreadful truth.

OUCH this fucking guy??? She's such a sweet soul and he's taking such pleasure in shattering her, I need to fight him 😂

“But you are my daddy,” Almárea tugged on his robe, waiting for confirmation.

“For all eternity, my darling one,” he caressed her hair lovingly and an empty hole in your chest grew and grew as it began to sink into your heart.

You had married Annatar but you had a child with Sauron.

Oh god this section had me in pieces, "for all eternity my darling one"??? Daddy Sauron is sending me, someone come get me off the floor, so much paaaain

You sobbed silently. Was it possible that this was the only kind of love you could ever count on? This twisted illusion, this mockery? You had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, giving him everything you had and more. And all you had ever wanted in return was to be loved back. To have a family.

My heart is shattered, she doesn't deserve this!!! This fucking guy!!!! It's okay babe, in a few millennia he'll end up destroyed by his own hubris, you'll get your revenge (I'm so upset for her, goddddd)

“Mummy is a twisted, treacherous little witch, so it seems,” Sauron drawled out and you turned your head around to lay your angry eyes upon him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

HORRIBLE MAN

EVIL

The absolute audacity to try and turn her daughter against her, the gall, the gumption??? Absolutely not!!!

“Daddy, it is not mummy’s fault that she is weak. You told me that yourself!”

Again, EVIL, TWISTED, TERRIBLE.

“Annatar,” you whispered softly. “Annatar, my love, come back to me. You bound yourself to me, too, dark spirit. Obey me. Release me,” you pleaded, desperately, feeling as if you were losing your sanity.

OH MY GOD

Hoo boy i wish that had worked but he is literally the worst!!! "Obey me, release me" absolutely sent me

Sauron did what you had done a while earlier and pressed Almárea’s face deeper into his robe as she was clinging to him. And when there was a guarantee she could not see anything, he twisted the wrist of his free hand and the Commander froze before turning the blade around and killing himself with it.

Daddy!Sauron appears again!!! Fuck this guy but also, oh my godddddd, like he's happy for her to do his dirty work, but she can't possibly see him kill a bunch of people, that would be too far!!

Holy shit, I'm in love with the way you write him, so deliciously evil, I cannot wait for the 3rd part, I will die!!!

— BLESSED (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You find out your husband's true identity when Eregion is under attack. It is hard to tell which one is worse – the betrayal that you feel or witnessing how influenced by his evil your daughter already is.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I said there would be a second part, so here it is. But as usual, I could not stop writing and... there will be a third part, too! 🤣 Basically, in this part, Sauron is walking inside the rooms rapidly nearly all the time, which is something I realised later while re-reading the fic but I couldn't edit it since it made sense for the plot (and he was doing that a lot in canon, too).

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, lowkey toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Annatar Sauron, he gets angry at his daughter once or twice but he is not violent towards her (should not trigger anyone but I wanted to mention it just in case) + he is manipulating his daughter a lot, Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, Reader being put to sleep against her will, trigger warnings from S02E07 (Sauron murdering the guards etc.)

WORD COUNT — 5,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (II)

You were sitting inside your chambers in the evening all alone and embroidering for your daughter. Your only company was a slowly burning candle as you focused on the beautiful gemstones that were appearing thanks to your needle. Almárea had always been interested in the craft of smithery and it was no surprise. Her grandfather had been an excellent smith and so was her father. Uncle Celebrimbor perhaps was not related to her but she had been growing up around him. And, recently, her new favourite thing to do was to spend time with him in the forge, learning everything she could about the craft. She was there at the moment, too.

And where Annatar was, you had no idea. Most likely with them or helping to run the city. Ever since Celebrimbor’s health had been getting worse, your husband was helping you with the administration matters around Eregion, for which you were the most grateful. He did not wish you to overwork yourself.

You heard a booming sound from the distance, which startled you slightly. However, you gave it no second thought. But when the sound began to repeat itself, you stood up and approached the window worryingly. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the fire burning in the distance and you spotted a cannonball coming closer and closer to Eregion.

You could see it all in slow-motion how it hit one of the towers of your city. You let out a scream and covered your mouth with a trembling hand. The very foundations of the tower you were in shook and made you hurry for the doors, desperate to find the ones you loved the most.

But before you could reach them, they opened widely and Annatar stood in them. He was oddly calm but oh, of course he was – an emissary of The Valar would not be ever scared and his calmness would bring nothing but peace in the times of trouble.

“We are under attack,” he announced and you grabbed his sleeve to squeeze the fabric and pull on it, holding onto him like a child. “Stay here.”

“But… Almárea… She’s in the forge with Celebrimbor…” You sobbed and yelped at the sound of another cannonball hitting Eregion.

“Do not be afraid,” Annatar put his arm around you and walked you back to your chair where he was trying to sit you down but you refused.

“Almárea and uncle Celebrimbor… I must go for them…”

“I shall go,” Annatar assured you and finally managed to sit you down by the table. “My love, stay here.”

“Should we not evacuate?” You asked, looking up at him with glistening eyes. Whatever he would say, you would listen, do and follow. You trusted him with your whole life.

“When the right time comes. Until then, stay here, so I do not lose you in the crowd,” Annatar instructed and left your chambers.

You wiped your tears with a shaky hand and felt the ground under your feet shaking once more. A while after his departure, you realised that his request was deeply concerning. Staying inside this tower could mean death to you, after all. There was no guarantee that the next cannonball would not hit your tower.

You moved up once more and ran to the doors but they were locked, which made you furrow your brows. You kept pulling the handle but without any success. Even when you used all of your force, they did not move an inch.

The sounds of cannonballs and people screaming in terror were reaching your ears from afar as your anxiety grew. How could your husband ask you to stay inside in a moment like this – especially with your daughter being far away from you? Your heart could not rest until you were sure that Almárea was safe.

You hurried to the balcony and looked up at the tower next to yours. The fire inside the forge was still on, you noticed. But you kept waiting and waiting for your husband’s return and there was nobody coming.

You were circling around the room nervously, trying to think of a way out. Almárea was all you could think of – your sweet daughter, your purpose in life, your little blessing. You had to be with her, you had to protect her.

And as you nearly broke down in tears of helplessness, you felt another cannonball hitting nearby. The force of that hit was so strong that you fell over, feeling the floor underneath you tilting slightly. When you dared to open your eyes, fearing what you would witness, you realised that half of the tower you were locked inside was in ruins now. Including the wall in front of you, which allowed you to run out without using the locked doors.

You did not think of anything else, leaving all your properties behind as you gathered your skirts and managed to get to the corridor, coughing heavily from all the dust.

The staircase was wobbly and you knew each step could cause you to fall down but you were too determined to overthink that. Step by step, as fast as you could, you ran downstairs and hurried across the courtyard, bumping into other screaming and terrified people, until you reached the doors to Celebrimbor’s forge.

What you witnessed, shocked you dearly. Because despite the siege around you, you spotted your uncle and daughter working on some design cheerfully.

“Almárea!” You called out for her, making them both turn around with widened eyes. “Uncle! What are you doing?!” You hurried to their side and put your arms around your daughter protectively. “Can’t you see and hear what is happening outside?! We must leave, this very moment!”

“What are you talking about, child?” Celebrimbor chuckled at you as if you were the crazy one. His eyes were full of joy but you also spotted a haze in them, a deep fog as if he had lost his mind. Your heart ached for him because his state had been worsening for weeks now.

“Uncle… Please, we must go,” you reached out to hold his wrists but he winced and pushed you away.

“No! I must not stop my work. What are you talking about, (Y/N)? Look at the state of you, you look like a slattern,” he pointed out and his words hurt you deeply. Of course you looked like a slattern. There was a siege happening and you crawled yourself out of the tower’s ruins to get here. “Almárea, your mother must be feverish,” he addressed your daughter.

“Almárea, my darling, we have to go and we have to take uncle with us,” you tried to explain it to her in the simplest way but she took a step back from you as she shook her head and the bow in her head bounced slightly.

“No. Daddy asked me to stay here and watch over uncle Celebrimbor,” she explained.

“Almárea, that is very noble but we are under attack,” you were trying to remain calm despite the noises reaching your ears from the outside. You knew that you had no time to argue. “Whatever your daddy asked you to do, it has no significance now.”

“But he has been here only recently,” she answered and you opened your mouth slightly, surprised. “He told me to keep up my work,” she added, proudly. “Uncle, go back to your craft. Mummy is sick indeed,” she addressed Celebrimbor and he nodded at her before giving you a dirty look and going back to his designs of the Rings.

“Almárea, it is not safe, we must leave. What are you doing to him?” You asked her, unsurely. You were scared to hear the answer as you crouched down to be on her level.

Your sweet, little daughter. Your blessing. Why was there so much malice in her eyes now?

The doors of the forge opened rapidly and you stood up at the sight of Annatar rushing inside. At first, you did not recognise him because his kind and loving face was twisted in anger as his soft eyes reminded you of nothing but black, empty abysses.

“What are you doing here?!” He barked at you. “I saw the cannonball hitting our tower, I rushed there and it was empty. Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” He raised his voice at you but you could not hear any concern in it – only fury.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and put your hands on Almárea’s shoulders.

“It is you who should explain yourself to me,” you tried to sound harshly but it was coming to you with great difficulty. After all, it was your husband, whom you loved and respected greatly. “Why is Almárea here and what is she doing to my uncle? You promised me you would come for them and we would evacuate together,” you pointed out.

“Not until the Rings are finished,” Annatar answered. “Almárea, are you keeping up the good work?” He addressed her softly.

“Yes, daddy,” she nodded her head with a grin and Annatar smiled before approaching Celebrimbor.

“How fares your progress?” He asked him.

“It would be better if your wife was not distracting me. She is feverish, you should take her back to your chambers and put her to bed. Call for a medic if you must,” Celebrimbor mumbled out.

“Is everyone going insane here?! We are under attack!” You exclaimed out of desperation.

“Almárea,” was all your husband said before she nodded and tilted her head

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. You let go of her arms and stumbled, grabbing the edge of Celebrimbor’s desk. You laid your free hand on your forehead and felt how hot the skin was.

“Oh, I… I… I do not feel well,” you whispered.

Annatar hurried to your side and slowly wrapped his arms around yours to help you move away.

“My gentle darling, you have a fever. You must have had a nightmare,” he told you sweetly. “I told you to stay in bed.”

“You… You did?” You asked but your mind was in a haze.

“Please, lay down,” Annatar helped you to get comfortable on a chaise longue in Celebrimbor’s study. He caressed your forehead and you could hear him walk away since your vision was too blurry to see anything. “Almárea, your mummy needs to rest,” you heard him whisper before your eyelids got too heavy to keep them open and you drifted off to the land of dreams.

You had no idea for how long you had been sleeping. Could be hours and could be days. When you opened your eyes again, you realised with terror that the forge was a mere shadow of its own glory. It was in ruins now and everything was dull, grey and full of dust. You stood up rapidly with your heart pounding inside your chest from the anxiety – Almárea and her safety were all you could think of.

And there she was, sitting boredly on top of Celebrimbor’s desk. They both had clothes and faces dirty from the ashes but he kept working cheerfully as your daughter was looking down at him and swinging her legs.

“Oh, mummy,” she smiled at the sight of you. “I am glad you woke up. I am so bored here and daddy keeps saying I must go on until uncle’s work is finished,” she sighed and jumped down onto the floor.

“What… What are you doing? What are you doing exactly?” You asked her, carefully. Your head was still heavy from the sleep induced upon you and your memories of what had happened were foggy.

“Daddy says uncle Celebrimbor must finish the Rings for men but he would be scared of what is going on outside, so while daddy helps to run Eregion, I am here, making sure uncle Celebrimbor has no idea about anything,” she revealed and you gasped.

At that moment, the doors opened and Annatar walked inside. His skin and robes were not dirty at all as if he was above the siege. For the first time in your life, you were scared at the sight of him as you swallowed thickly, so deeply confused.

“The Rings. Are they finished?” He asked and closed the doors behind him. Then, he spotted you being awake and turned around slowly with a puzzled expression. “Almárea, why is your mother awake?”

“I was bored, daddy,” Almárea whined and you watched Annatar’s face muscles twitching as he clenched his jaw and gave your daughter a look so scolding that she approached you to seek safety.

“She is only a child, what do you expect?” You asked him. “You have burdened her with a task that is too heavy for her. It would be too heavy for anyone. The measures you are taking to finish the creation are unholy,” you took a deep breath in and moved a little closer to your uncle with Almárea still clinging to you. You were trying to shield poor Celebrimbor from your husband. “Make it stop. Let us flee.”

Celebrimbor looked up at you, his eyes so full of fog and mist that it made you shed a tear of compassion as he smiled adoringly at you with nothing but pure joy. He had completely lost his mind now.

“No emissary of The Valar would do this,” you turned your face around to lay your eyes on your husband again as more tears streamed down your cheeks. He looked both – hurt to be accused and angry to be caught at the same time. The most confusing reaction you could expect. “My husband would not do this,” you added, nearly inaudibly.

At that, he snorted. And you only sobbed some more.

“Free my uncle’s mind, I beg of you,” you shook your head.

“He is not under my control,” Annatar smirked and looked down to meet your daughter’s gaze. He nodded and she squeezed her eyes tightly as she focused on something. When her eyes opened again, you looked back at your uncle but he remained working. “Her powers are too strong. He might be forever broken now,” Annatar pointed out with a glimpse of… pride. “Come to me, my child,” he opened his arms and Almárea tried to move but you tightened your grip around her.

“No. You will not go near that man ever again,” you said to her, harshly. Each word caused a pain, like a knife cutting your heart into pieces.

You loved Annatar but you had to protect your daughter from him because the man in front of you was… Was simply not the man you had married. Perhaps the burden of the Valar was too heavy for him. The task they had given to him had driven him and your uncle to madness.

Perhaps it was all your fault – by choosing to stay with you as your husband, he had to choose this form and stay in it, losing some of his godly powers. And his new flesh was simply too weak to handle all the power he had been blessed with by the gods.

His empty eyes glanced at you with so much hatred and fury that you felt smaller than a mouse at the moment.

“I am her father,” he reminded you, coldly. “Almárea, come here,” he ordered.

And you were simply too weak to fight it. Your limbs rebelled against your will as you felt your daughter leaving your grasp and running up to her father. You could only watch as your whole life was crumbling down just like Eregion around it.

“You are her father. But you are not my husband,” you said. “Who are you… truly?”

“I am the one keeping the storm at bay,” he answered, putting his hands on Almárea’s shoulders as she kept looking up at him with admiration. “Balancing the very sun above your head. All to heal Middle-earth and give your weak and pathetic uncle one chance to prove his worth. I want the Nine!” He yelled, making you flinch.

Celebrimbor did not, however. He only looked up at the mention of his name and smiled kindly at the monster you had to call your husband.

“I am working, my friend,” he assured him before going back to work.

You moved slightly to cover him from Annatar’s stare. But you were not sure if Annatar was truly his name.

To heal Middle-earth. You knew that story. You knew who had been the man with such a dream. Annatar had been mentioning it before but never in this way. But now it all made sense. It all made a terrible sense and you had been nothing but a blind fool. It should had alarmed you the very first time Annatar had used this phrase. But the tone of his voice had been sweet then; concerned. Now, he had revealed his true intentions.

“You are He,” you realised out loud with a trembling voice. In fact, your whole body was trembling. The waves of aftershocks coming over your body after finding out such a dreadful thing about the person with whom you had shared your chambers, your bed, your body, your heart and your soul… Your bloodline. “You are Sauron,” the name rolled off of your tongue like something filthy and dirty – the most disgusting. The Abhorred.

All those I love yous you had whispered to him, all those nights you had spent on whimpering his name lost in pleasure, all those breakfasts you had served him, all those hours spent on brushing his hair with your fingers and peppering his face with tiny kisses. All this time you had been doing nothing but pampering the monster. And all this time you had been living in an illusion – not much better than the one your uncle was living in at the moment.

“I have many names,” Annatar smirked at your question as if it was bringing him satisfaction that his silly and naive wife had finally realised the dreadful truth.

“But you are my daddy,” Almárea tugged on his robe, waiting for confirmation.

“For all eternity, my darling one,” he caressed her hair lovingly and an empty hole in your chest grew and grew as it began to sink into your heart.

You had married Annatar but you had a child with Sauron.

You were sitting on the floor, with your back pressed to the wall and your knees brought all the way up to be able to rest your head on them. You had no chains but you did not have to. Annatar – or rather Sauron – knew very well that you would not leave Celebrimbor’s forge as long as Almárea was inside.

So, you just kept sitting there and staring at her as she was standing above your uncle and watching carefully as he crafted the Rings. She was studying him and you smiled sadly at that because under different circumstances it would be lovely to watch her learning from Celebrimbor.

His mind was far too gone to know anything happening around him. The only thing he could focus on was forging the Rings as you kept overthinking your whole marriage.

All those little things you had been ignoring about Annatar until now – all those excuses you had been making up for him. Gods, you were such a fool. And you loved your daughter more than anything but you could not help a feeling that your womb had borne a seed of Middle-earth’s demise.

Why had Annatar chosen you? Now it all made sense – you were the most useful in his schemes. You were close to the man he had wanted wrapped around his finger. And you were half-human, which could push Celebrimbor into agreeing to craft such powerful items even for the kin considered to be weak and unworthy by many Elves.

You sobbed silently. Was it possible that this was the only kind of love you could ever count on? This twisted illusion, this mockery? You had been nothing but kind and gentle to him, giving him everything you had and more. And all you had ever wanted in return was to be loved back. To have a family.

“You are done now! Daddy will be so proud, uncle!” Almárea clapped her hands and it made you look up. She kissed Celebrimbor’s cheek and he smiled at her, watching her put the rings inside a pouch.

“Almárea,” you called out for her and she laid her eyes on you. “Give them to me,” you ordered.

“But daddy–” She started, unsurely.

“I just want to see,” you extended your hand and she walked up to you, hesitantly. She handed you the pouch and you grabbed it from her. “Mummy!” She whined.

“Undo what you have done to uncle Celebrimbor’s mind. Right now,” your voice was harsh but not too much because she was still your daughter and you could never hurt or abandon her even if the darkness was the path she would descend into.

She was still a child, though. And she was half you – there was the same amount of light inside of her as of darkness.

“I can only try,” Almárea told you and you nodded at her, encouragingly. 

You held her hands to help her and she squeezed them, closing her eyes and tilting her head as she furrowed her brows, causing a small wrinkle to appear on her smooth forehead.

When she was done, you knew that it had thankfully worked. Because Celebrimbor yelped out of fear as you kissed the top of your daughter’s head and ran up to him immediately.

“Uncle… Uncle, calm down, please, shh, you are alright now,” you put your hands on his arms and his scared eyes found yours with relief.

“Oh, my darling (Y/N), I have been in such a haze… He… He made me…” Celebrimbor tried to find the right words.

“I know, I am so sorry…” You whispered, your voice full of pain and regret.

“No. It is me who is sorry, my sweet child. I have given you to him so easily, so freely,” he caressed your face with his trembling hands.

“And I am glad that you did,” you sobbed and he furrowed his brows. “And I cannot ever say that I regret it for he has given me my daughter,” you confessed.

“He might never get The Nine,” Celebrimbor changed the subject and you nodded, agreeing with him as you sniffed your tears back. You handed him the pouch with the Rings and glanced upon the doors.

“Go,” you pressed your forehead to his. “Take them away from him,” you whispered. “As far away as you can. Quick, we do not have much time. Use the opportunity that he still thinks you are under Almárea’s control.”

Your uncle nodded at you sadly. He kissed your forehead and squeezed the pouch inside his hand before looking at your daughter with a sigh. There was no hatred in his eyes but a glimpse of sadness, disappointment and fear mixed altogether. 

You watched him leave and Almárea reached her hand out after him but you stopped her.

“Daddy will get angry,” she looked up at you, surprised to witness what you had just done.

“Believe me, it is for the better,” you told her and held her hand. “We must leave now, too.”

“No,” she stood still and shook her head. “Not without daddy.”

“Almárea, we must go. We must leave, far away from here. We must go to your grandmother in Mithlond,” you tried to lure her in by the mention of your mother.

But she had seen her once in her life and the meeting had been brief. They shared no bond, therefore Almárea was not easily convinced.

“Not without daddy,” she repeated.

“Almárea, I beg of you…” Your eyes filled with tears again. You knew Sauron would be back any moment to check on Celebrimbor’s progress and you did not want to be there when he would see that your uncle was gone with The Rings.

But what you did not want even more was to abandon your daughter.

So, you stayed with her and waited. You did not even know what you were waiting for – was it your death? Would he get rid of you now when you were not useful to him anymore and after you had betrayed him in such a way; convincing your daughter to release Celebrimbor from her control and letting him flee?

You would find out very soon because the doors of the forge opened and there he was, walking confidently inside with a smirk upon his face.

“Daddy, I am so sorry!” Almárea cried out immediately and ran up to him while you looked away, wincing from the ache you felt in your heart. Your eyes filled tears at her words. You only hoped he would not lash out at her. “I trusted mummy and she tricked me! She gave The Rings back to uncle Celebrimbor and let him go!” Almárea explained and cried.

Long silence occurred and even though you were not looking in their direction, you could feel the atmosphere changing in an instant. Thickening.

“Mummy is a twisted, treacherous little witch, so it seems,” Sauron drawled out and you turned your head around to lay your angry eyes upon him with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“How dare you!” You snapped. Who was he to call you twisted or treacherous? “I swore no loyalty to you, shadow of Morgoth!”

“Yes, you have!” He yelled at you and Almárea flinched, taking a step back. He walked past her to approach you angrily but you could not move away because there was a wall behind you. “You bound yourself to me on the day of our wedding!” Sauron pushed you, causing your back to hit the wall. “Where is he?! Where are The Rings?!”

“Daddy, we do not know!” Almárea ran up to you two and tugged on his robe. You avoided her gaze because you did not want her to see the fear and pain in your eyes. It would only scare her more. “Daddy, it is not mummy’s fault that she is weak. You told me that yourself!”

Sauron’s face was so close to yours that your noses nearly brushed against each other. His breath was heavy and hot, full of anger. You remained cold and still with tears streaming down your cheeks. And even though you did not recognise your husband and his eyes were dark and empty now, you dared to reach out to his cheeks gently. You cupped his face delicately, which caused his brows to furrow and his eyes to widen slightly out of surprise.

“Annatar,” you whispered softly. “Annatar, my love, come back to me. You bound yourself to me, too, dark spirit. Obey me. Release me,” you pleaded, desperately, feeling as if you were losing your sanity.

There was pure confusion on Sauron’s face at that moment. He took a step back, away from you and away from your hands but as they were falling down, you tried to extend them further and reach him once more.

“You are pathetic,” he pointed out, coldly. “I shall find those Rings sooner or later. The only thing you did was to slow me down but you will never stop me.”

“Let it be then… Whatever I can do, I shall,” you whispered.

He opened his mouth to say something but you were interrupted by a group of people walking inside the forge. It was Celebrimbor with a few guards. For one, foolish moment, you sighed with relief, expecting rescue.

He nodded at you softly to let you know that The Rings were safe and far away from your husband. You reached your hands out to grab Almárea and pull her closer to you. She let you and wrapped her arms around you to comfort you after her father’s anger.

“Where are The Rings?!” Sauron abandoned your side to walk down the stairs from Celebrimbor’s study into the ruins of the forge.

“Far from your reach by now,” your uncle answered.

“Then you are going to bring them to me and place them in my hand,” Sauron said, trying to remain calm. 

“Your hand will never touch another Ring again,” Celebrimbor assured him.

You moved closer to the railing with Almárea still clinging to you, so you both could see better whatever was happening downstairs.

The Commander of the City Guard ordered the rest to arrest your husband. Almárea sobbed and hid her face in the fabric of your gown as you caressed her back, soothingly.

You watched the soldiers stand in a circle around Sauron and point their swords at him. You put your hand on the back of your daughter’s head, making sure to press her face a bit deeper into your gown to avoid her seeing any glimpse of the scene underneath you by accident.

“By order of the true Lord of Eregion, you, Sauron, are hereby–” the Commander began before freezing.

In fact, they all froze. They all froze and trembled, whimpering slightly because they had absolutely no idea what was happening to them.

“You think it was only you and your weak fosterling who put themselves in my power?” Sauron asked with contempt as he addressed your uncle.

He raised his hands slightly and all the soldiers surrounding him killed one another instead of him. You watched in terror as their blades cut through their bodies and then they fell down, lifeless, onto the ground.

Almárea sobbed and yelped, managing to get out of your grasp due to your moment of weakness.

“Daddy!” She cried out for him. She was scared that the sound she had heard was of their blades cutting through him.

But it was not. And you watched her run down the stairs and ignore the lifeless bodies, as if they meant nothing to her, only to cling to Sauron’s waist. He wrapped one of his hands around her to pull her closer as he raised an eyebrow at Celebrimbor in a challenging manner.

The Commander tried to approach your husband carefully, extending his sword.

“Do not hurt the child,” your uncle ordered but there was no need.

Sauron did what you had done a while earlier and pressed Almárea’s face deeper into his robe as she was clinging to him. And when there was a guarantee she could not see anything, he twisted the wrist of his free hand and the Commander froze before turning the blade around and killing himself with it.

Only when his body hit the floor, Sauron let go of your daughter and allowed her to move. She looked up at him as if she was waiting for an order or a task to be given.

“You shall take control over him again and tell me where The Nine are,” your husband said.

“Almárea, no!” You screamed from the top of the stairs. “Almárea, please!”

“Are you sleepy again, my love?” Sauron looked up to ask you with irony.

You chose to be silent. To be put to sleep for gods know how long, to lose control of your own body and to be unaware of your surroundings was not what you wanted to happen once again.

MASTERLIST

[pearl-kite]

Want to see some neat things about how irises grow?

Remember when I dug up and divided ALL of my irises at my parents' place a few years back? And how I ended up with 50 rhizomes, and I had bought 9 more just a bit before that?

Well, my mom wants to try to amend the soil because it's not great. Most of the irises have just been surviving, but not well enough to bloom, and everything else planted in the area struggles similarly. In order to amend the soil, though, I needed to dig them all up.

Again.

I dug up 44 rhizomes this time, which is honestly a bit better than I expected. I knew that not all of the ones I put in were going to survive, but I was still surprised by how many I just dug up today.

Anyway, the learning bit!

So irises aren't bulbs, they're rhizomes. Each year they put up leaves at one end, and over time they kind of end up migrating in that direction. If they do really well at gathering and storing energy, instead of just continuing forward, they'll fork, putting up leaves on two sides and a stalk with blooms in the center. The following year, the pattern continues, going forward from each side of that fork. If a rhizome does REALLY well, you'll end up with a bunch of forks spreading out.

The one on the left has survived, but not gone very far, and the white at the end shows that I accidentally broke some of the old rhizome off when I was digging it back up. It also happens to be a dwarf variety, so the rhizome is smaller to begin with; all my other photos are of intermediate and tall bearded irises with much larger rhizomes.

The one on the right has done well enough to grow forward for a few years, with the oldest of the rhizome at the bottom (still healthy and full of stored energy!) and the newest year's growth at the top. Looking at the rhizome itself, I'd guess that one is about 4 years (which makes sense, 'cause I think I did the splitting back in 2020).

The one on the left bloomed this year; you can see the flower stalk dried out in the center, and the new fork in the rhizome to the sides. Next year, they'll continue in those two directions, and it won't go forward from the stalk any longer.

The one on the right bloomed a few years back, and though it kept growing forward from there, it hasn't bloomed since. The other side of the fork also died off, and it's now only growing in one direction again.

Last but most certainly not least we have THIS beast. This one has bloomed the last two or three years in a row. I honestly can't tell if the guy at the bottom right is part of the same rhizome or another one I planted too close that got subsumed by this monster, because it took ten minutes to get most of the clay off and there was still more. I'll need to actually rinse it off with the hose to really see if it's all one plant or two.

But I'm 95% sure that this guy is going to bloom again next year because of those nubs down along the bottom. They were below the soil, and they're too thick to be new roots, so I'm guessing that's what future growth looks like. Honestly, this guy should probably be divided, but I also don't want to ruin the chance of it blooming next year, so I'm going to put him back in the dirt as is and maybe divide next year after blooming season.

Anyway, irises are my favorite, and I think it's intriguing how they work. I'm hoping that we can get the soil a bit more balanced and that they'll do better after replanting them, because even though I just dug up 44, we only had 4 or 5 bloom this year. They aren't thriving in the soil as-is, because for as long as they've been established we should have had more blooming than that. It was still the best year since dividing them, though.

I've brought a bunch of them over to my apartment and I'm going to try them out in containers, mostly the dwarf varieties I had. ONE of the dwarfs bloomed this year and it was gorgeous, but I'm hoping the rest will do better in new soil with some extra attention.

[moonshynecybin]

I do not understand what was going on in Vale’s head after 2015. Like, every time he speaks about Marc he always brings up Sepang and explain how that was the breaking point in their relationship, he doesn’t really talk about Argentina, but at the same time in 2016 they were lowkey getting closer again (?). Then he says that after 2015 he was being polite to Marc only to not waste time, but why? He clearly had no problem to express all his hatred towards him after 2018 so what was the need to act polite and appear fake when he knew damn well that even if he kept talking shit about Marc the journalist and all his fans would have his back. Truly a confusing man, I bet Marc was driving himself insane to try to understand him.

first of all thats a lot of smoke even for my man valentino. like years of smoke. again, hes kind of known as the fun funny guy everybody loves to see win bc he's their silly little elf prince... and yes he's a killer on the track (thats also fun) and hes aware of how to manipulate the public opinion. BUT because of that, i think he's also aware that all of that adoration is something that he can potentially lose or at least have less control over... crowds like jesters when theyre FUN. and when marc's pr strategy at that point about this was 1. ignore it, 2. be very sweet to vale when you see him bc you love him (like he said hi to vale almost every single time they sat next together in 2016. a more sane man wouldve just chilled in contemplative heartbroken silence. not marc ! not my crazy little guy !), being consistently aggressive towards him is a lot less fun for everybody. gives him a lot less power in terms of wielding/controlling that rivalry when he thinks he really needs to. hes NOT lying when he says its easier to just say hi to marc. it is! if he ignored marc every weekend, that would be the story of the weekend. every single time. and i think he learned in the aftermath of sepang how big a story like this could get (we STILL talk about it. marc was answering jorge vs valentino questions THIS WEEK.) and how much they can dominate his life and capture the eyes of the press. kind of inescapably. resigning himself to an eternal retirement of answering questions like how fast do you think marquez will be on the ducati?? (i KNOWWW hes sick rn btw). a monster of his own creation. so i think he learned in malaysia to only go after marc when hes really fucking pissed off. and he was really fucking pissed off in argentina 2018. and unfortunately marc didnt get the hint until then i think.

[orcelito]

Considering the. Ahem. Ways this year has gone, I've not been thinking about it all that much, but. I did start this year with the motto of Year Of Unfucking My Life. With a few goals involved in that.

I got an official adhd diagnosis, as well as a diagnosis for PCOS. Other diagnoses in progress. Gotten adhd meds and birth control to regulate periods. I've gone back to school and I'm keeping up with it better than ever before. I've even been working on practicing driving, something I've been largely neglecting since I first got my driving permit, um... 11 years ago...

I just need to actually Get my license. And I need to get it before the end of the year. If I can accomplish that, then I'll say the Year Of Unfucking My Life was successful.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Mmm. You've always landed on your feet against all odds, more or less. And as I recall whenever you witches get together a lot of people suffer needlessly anyways. Draw a lot of ire. Maybe your fellow Lodge members have finally figured it out, between Radovid and Emhyr. You Aretuza 'ladies' are better off staying apart. I've kept tabs on all of you, among other mages, to be on the safe side. You, Stregobor and Eltibald, the old Council of Mages and Lodge really, are the reasons I've invested in Kovir's Dimeritium market over the years. You folk got my gratitude there, stuff saved my life and others more than a few times against all manner of magic throwing hags."

Eskel's low tone observed languidly, with a chuckle under his breath, viper eyes still watching the breakfast seemingly prepare itself, appetite growing all the while. He recalled the times in the past when Sabrina had made him breakfast, after a reignited passionate affair when their paths crossed, those times he had actually stayed afterwords, albeit usually briefly. Even in a royal bed or two together, back when she had been held high up on the Unicorn Dynasty's good side, a top place in their court, dressed in those familiar dresses of hers with the choker. Typically after they fought, of course, and he had contemplated seriously for the thousandth time slaying her. It was something he couldn't recall many others having done for him... more often they were gone by the time he woke, especially upper class ladies who couldn't afford to be seen or discovered laying with something like him... it would destroy their social standing and reputations. It was funny that one he despised and cared for in equal parts would seek to take care of him and his needs, where others better in most ways treated him like a Catriona plague carrying monster once they had gotten out of him what they desired. A completed contract, a monster slain, a curse lifted, an exorcism performed... and a roll around in their bed, or in the hay. Commoner and noble ladies alike... two of a kind, when it came down to it, where Witchers were concerned.

It figured it was his curse to be condemned to Sabrina, from the moment she had come chasing Deidre to Kaer Morhen... the moment she had saved him from a near death that had been her own fault and his alike, when it came down to it. It was his eternal punishment for failing and fleeing from his destiny... betraying Deidre as he had. It had never been as passionate and intense as it was when they lay together, with their magical bond. They were addicted to one another, bound by forces beyond either of their control, regardless of what they were capable of. He hated her... but hated that he needed her even more. At least he was aware, and ready for the worst, unlike Geralt or Lambert, smitten and blind to the machinations of their own Sorceresses. And at least he was still firmly on the Path. The Witcher began kissing along her neck slowly, hands moving about her perfect, pale body, one rising to her sizable breasts to fondle them, the other settling down between her legs to slowly, teasingly rub her womanhood again, lightly. Distracting her a bit as she carried out magically preparing their breakfast, a smirk writ large on his blade marred visage. Deep, amused and aroused voice murmuring in her ear again more boldly and gradually. The heat in his blood burning hotter, despite himself, but remaining in control of his desires, enjoying their faintly hostile flirtations almost as much as the intimacy.

"Ah... the limitations and over reliance on magic. Story of mages lives. Besides attempting to seize royal power, murdering, conspiring, along with creating and unleashing monsters on the world, of course. Destroying Witcher Schools as well, once we did their dirty work they considered beneath them. Better to have flesh and blood men around than magical youth, I reckon. Those that can handle you properly. Scared of losing me again, Madam Glevissig? I'm touched. Couldn't run away from you for long if I tried, and I have tried over the years. Even death didn't stop it. Besides, learned my lesson the hard way on attempting to defy destiny, as you doubtless recall. Figure the sensible thing to do then is enjoy myself with you, make the most of circumstances. Who knows, maybe if you ask me real nice, I may just come with you willingly, wherever you're headed next. Ain't like Witchers are on a strict schedule, on the Path, outside returning to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Can pick up contracts along our way. And you do have them useful portals, I recall."

@fallesto

“That is the problem, a dying breeds my kind is, your own as well. The lands have changed, wars and all of that happening here, there, everywhere you look, besides most of the witches I know, had fled or shared a fate that I had, and I have no intentions of aiding any of them, they left me to my fate when they could have done something about it and so I will do the same and focus only on myself. You would think my troubles would learn their lessons by now and leave me alone, but alas even now they are trying to nip at my heels, and not in a pleasing manner, it is annoying.”

He would remain there and she would as well for the time being, speaking about there paths and there lives as well, where they are and what they had to do. She had cheated death itself, something she could not have done without his aid, something that she would sooner die once more than to ever admit that her life had literally been within his hands at one point and he had made the choice to save it when he had every single right to throw it away. She knew a little about what he was going through, despite the hard and cruel fall from grace, from her courts, her castle and the court she had a firm and tight grip on. An entire kingdom she ruled, the king there, to be seen and not heard, that everything went through her and no one else, only makes since her kingdom would crumble and fall into ruin the moment she was removed from power and from court as well, fools. Yet she cared little, despite living back in a forest, ugh. She had a network, of spies and allies, who would keep an eye on the witcher and others for her, to ensure that if the time comes she needed them, she would come to them when they are desperate, like her, on fallen knees and waiting for that hand to be held out to them to pull them back up, only thing with him is that he would sooner swat the hand away and ensure the horrid little life he has, filled with so many problems, than to take her hand and be pulled up anew, but that was hardly something that needed to be talked about.

Still he had asked for breakfast, and she was tempted to have him do the walk of shame back to the nearest village, to have him awaken, naked on the forest floor, her tent, her scent, her presence, all removed and gone and him having to walk back and have nothing, amusing, very amusing, but as it was here she was, listening to the hum of his little medallion on his chest, as she lazily had her magic, take care of the most basic and such human task for her, all she had to do was lift a finger, and have the items around the tent, move with her flow and begin to make the breakfast for her, as she had no intention, of getting up out of bed and doing it herself, why? When she can use and abuse magic to do it for her, all that knowledge and all that power, might as well be put to use. She would close her eyes, feel his hand cup a feel and be bold and daring, and she did nothing other than direct the traffic of the plates and glasses to a table, to have it laid out and laying there for when the time demands for it, before she felt herself moved, to lay on her side, him behind her, holding her, just – hugging her. When truly she was more used to lovers, being gone before the dawn, or her being long gone before they would even know were they are or what had happened, as she remained still for the moment and pushed him back against him to give him the right, the honour and about all the privilege to hold her in such a manner.

“Despite my magic, I need something to make something, you know this. Otherwise, it is limited and while that illusion of the boy, is good company, there are somethings that youth cannot do, he is only there to tend to the worthless tasks that I cannot do and to keep this place cleaned as well, as good as company as he might be, you have seen that for the time being I don’t need him. Besides, I will be leaving here anyway, outstayed my welcome, need to move on and find another location to set up so I will be departing when you are, so enjoy this time then, and besides, you have never been one for looking a gift horse in the mouth, I know this better than anyone. Stay a while, and maybe longer, I’ll cover your contracts, but you already know this … looking for an excuse to run away again?”

[libidinous-weeb]

no, i think i get it now

through no fault of his own, gojo was so busy becoming “the strongest” that he didn’t realize he wasn’t there for geto when geto needed it the most.

when geto said “are you gojo satoru because you’re the strongest? or are you the strongest because you’re gojo satoru?” he was intentially trying to hurt gojo. the context and the subtext is important.

gojo was BORN to be the strongest, whether he wanted to be or not. some people are born with blue eyes, some with brown. and some people are born the strongest. that’s what gojo’s strength is like to himself. it’s a part of him, but it’s not who he is. when he was friends with geto, they were close despite that fact. it’s one of the first times someone stood side by side with gojo and didn’t really care if he was the strongest or not.

throughout his life, everyone else hates gojo for something he didn’t ask for. something that he can’t change or give up but something that he was born as. they all stare at him like some kind of circus freak, either in disgust, or in awe.

and geto just says “it’s because you’re too strong.” but they BOTH know that’s a lie. what geto is actually saying is “i’ve decided that you aren’t gojo satoru, the person i’ve loved and lost and fought with side by side anymore. i’ve decided i don’t want you in my life anymore. i’m saying the words that hurt you the most, because i hate you.”

and gojo is angry because his best friend, someone he loves, has just decided to have nothing to do with gojo anymore. it was like a sudden break up because he didn’t give a reason. he gave his reason for leaving jujutsu society but not why he didn’t tell gojo any of it.

tldr: gojo is asking “why didn’t you rely on me? aren’t we friends? why did you choose to go through this all on your own? why didn’t you tell me anything? i thought we were friends!”

and geto is saying “i hate you, just like everyone else. you’re the strongest. you’re not my friend. you’re barely even human. you wouldn’t understand.”

and geto’s saying that because gojo was practicing and training and getting stronger and wasn’t there when geto needed him to be there. and it wasn’t gojo’s fault, he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. gojo wanted to be there but geto chose to shut him out

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 29

“Evil Like Me” by Kristin Chenoweth & Dove Cameron for Disney's Descendants OS

[shabbytigers]

saw the fifth-floor walkup. the climb is okay actually. and in theory it should be a great apartment. it almost is one, but at some point it was renovated by a corporate entity that somewhat fucked the vibe

there’s two kinds of Altbau renovation. the kind people do when they care about the results, whether they want to live in it or just take pride in it, and the kind people do when they literally only care about minimizing costs on the way to maximizing profits and nothing else. the parquet either looks like or is bad laminate. the bath is grey marble or marble-like substance, all over, walls, floor, tub all alike and it’s grim. the kitchen—it is literally so easy to do better at this with the third-cheapest ikea option. they left some exposed beams, as if that checked the charm box and meant they could min out everything else. for the rent they want i’d need to love it, and i just don’t. someone else will certainly snap it up! but i’d drift around it fretfully making excuses for it in my head, and i ain’t paying the tippy top end of my budget for that life

i’m gonna take the share. it’s like a piece of berlin mythos incarnate and i gotta. if it doesn’t work out i’ll look again, worst case i’ll have drastically enough lower ongoing costs for a while to cover another round of moving costs and will get to know a different part of the city

i’m looking at a weird share in Friedenau tomorrow morning (i take baths, keep weird hours, and am cranky, but this dude is my age, trans-friendly, with multiple rooms, somewhere someone might live on purpose, cheap. at least meet him. if only to find out how a >160 qm, one-bath, altbau flat happened to him)

ok this share is great? a large room, a medium room, a small room, and a wintergarten, in a very altbau altbau, two blocks from the U9 with other transit options, viscerally appealing building and neighborhood, share kitchen and bath with a chill older guy in computer science, affordable

remind me what i need to be questioning about this

[yo9urt]

ball dur's gait 3 is ruining my life

[cosmic-cd]

late night oc thoughts again!