#I have been cleaning my room all day and it’s just normal messy instead of depression messy now whew

[widowshill]

redecorated my desk space and now it sparks joy :)

[babywriter]

When people are very young, they tend to say that they can’t wait to get older. This was not the case for Lexi, she knew what getting older meant. And today was her 22nd birthday. Seemingly, the years were going by faster than she wanted.

“What did I even do last year?” she thought to herself.

Still, today was a good day, a fun day, with friends and family coming over for dinner. And she had a great time! She was happy to see all those people.  Then, her mother brought the cake. The guests singing Happy Birthday was depressing to Lexi, because it just meant another year going by.

“Why are there so many candles?” she thought. Twenty-two candles, one for every year. It was hard for her to look at.

“Make a wish!” said her mother. Lexi half-smiled to be polite, but she did wish something. She wished that she could stay twenty-two forever and when she blew on the candles, time froze. People were stuck mid-clap and mid-cheer.

A man in a suit had appeared. “Hello, Lexi. Happy Birthday.”

“Who are you?” 

“Me? Don’t worry about me. I’m just here to make a deal.” He took a dramatic pause. “I know what you wished for Lexi and I can give it to you.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Smart girl. If you want to fulfill your wish, and I assure you I’ll keep my side of the bargain, you’ll need to empty your bowels right here and now in front of everybody…once they’re back to normal.”

“I-I don’t think I understood.”

“Yes, you understood just right. But that’s really the least of it. Because once the wish is activated, and you can’t take it back, you will need diapers. You will need them because you will have very obvious and public accidents. In fact, you’ll never use the bathroom again. Any time you need to go, you’ll stop what you’re doing, announce it loudly and do it. That’ll be out of your control. But, you will be twenty-two forever, as promised. No, no, stop pinching yourself, this is real. You can tell this is real. So what will be Lexi? You’ll have just a few seconds, so be quick.”

“No, no, wait!” cried Lexi, rising from her seat.

With that, the man snapped his fingers, disappeared and everything else returned to normal. Lexi hesitated for a moment, but felt the pressure in her stomach and decided to push. 

“Are you okay, dear?” asked her mother.

It was surprisingly easy to push. She did have to grunt and turn red, but it certainly was coming out.. 

“I did it.” Lexi mumbled to herself. “Oh god.”

Everyone was coming to the realization of what had happened. Needless to say, they were all stunned. The smell hit them too.

“Thank you all for coming.” Lexi’s mother said. “We’ll just do some clean-up. Come on, Lexi.”

The guests looked at each other as Lexi left the room to change. 

“Uh-oh! I’m making tinkles!” Lexi shouted from her bedroom. And instead of doing anything to stop it, she stared at the puddle forming at her feet. What an odd sensation. She hadn’t been able to stop herself yet felt it thoroughly as it was happening. 

Soon enough, Lexi was back in diapers announcing she was making “oopsie-daisies”, “messies” or “accidents” to anyone within earshot. Like telling her boyfriend “Daddy, I had an accident!” when they were shopping at the mall, or saying “Mommy, I went in my diapie!” to her mother while eating at a restaurant. So much for being twenty-two.

[onsunnyside]

Here it is !! Flamingo King snippet for part 7, originally from part 6 but moved to the epilogue/bonus chapter 🦩❤️‍🔥 I’ve never loved a fic this much and am so thankful for all of your support !! I hope you all enjoy 🥰🫶

“Hey, sugar, you know you don’t gotta knock.”

“I just thought it would only be fair for tonight.” You shyly hold out a bouquet of flowers, vibrant red and yellow tulips from the best florist in the city. “These are for you. I was thinkin’ we could stop by the bakery after dinner? They brought back your favourite pie and I told them to save us a good one.”

Ari stands there for a moment, looking between you and the flowers. Then, he slaps the door, “awh shit, that was today? I thought—” he groans, “I thought it was tomorrow, Friday right?”

“Today is Friday.”

“Shit.” He curses, “The Den has been a fuckin’ zoo with all the college kids being back in town, my brain is fried and my eyes fuckin’ hurt from staring at a screen all day. Aside from bartending, Curtis has us doing all this paperwork and—” he shoulders sag, “nevermind. No need to be standing out there, come in, baby.”

The light flickers on and you can finally see him properly.

Eyeglasses are on the tip of his nose, his hair is messy and pulled out of his face with a small clip, one you recognize from your small vanity at home. His normally glowy skin is dull and tired, and dark bags make his eyes appear sunken into his face.

You’ve seen him dishevelled, but nothing this exhausted.

He’s still as pretty as ever, but just so terribly tired.

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll get ready quickly.” Then he’s off to his bedroom, abandoning his laptop and coffee table cluttered with dirty dishes, and plenty of papers.

A blanket and pillow that used to occupy his big, comfy bed are on the couch, along with a spare t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His record player is off, no slow rock song filling his trailer like usually.

You hear several slams and bangs before peeking into his bedroom and it’s a mess, far worse than the living room. Clothes skewed over his bed, the laundry bin overflowing and more stacks of empty dishes on his nightstands, although outnumbered by takeout containers.

Ever since you met Ari, he took pride in his spotless home and kept his things organized. He was diligent with weekly cleans, and often reminded you of laundry day so you could do your chores together.

It’s been quite wild for you too from sports season and the rush of people coming in after school or work. Even Andy had to hire new staff just to keep up with the hoard of customers.

Despite being busy, you’ve still made time for each other, going out for late night ice cream, or hanging out in your trailer watching movies on the laptop that you got for a massive discount (from a particular blond cutie with a goatee). But you haven’t been over in a few days, a week at most, and you didn’t know it was this bad.

“Ari.”

“Hold on!” he calls out, digging through his dressers as clothes fall to the floor.

“Ari.”

“Where the fuck are my jeans?” He sweeps through the hangers again, squinting behind his glasses, “Why do I have so many flannels?”

You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Pressing your cheek against his bare back, you can feel his rigid muscles under his skin. Poor baby, he’s so overworked and drained, yet he was still trying to put you first.

“We don’t have to go tonight.”

“We do. You got all dolled up and bought me flowers. You were gonna wine and dine me, and you can’t do that if we’re stuck in this pigsty.”

You squeeze him tighter, refusing to let go. You know he could easily overpower you, throw you on the bed and continue getting ready. But instead, he just sinks into your touch, slumping over and bracing himself on the dresser.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, sugar.”

“Don’t be.”

He always took care of you. Making sure you ate during the day, stayed hydrated and out of the harsh sun. He wouldn’t eat until you took a first bite, and always put snacks and water in your bag before you went to work. Sometimes on his days off, he’d get into your trailer by using the key you gave him and tidy up, wanting you to come home and be able to relax.

Ari has done so much for you.

It takes a few more kisses, some affectionate squeezing and running your hands up and down his chest for him to turn around.

His eyebrows are knotted tight, and a deep solemn frown plays on his lips. You notice his beard is thicker too, a smidge longer than his usual trim.

“I’m so tired—I don’t know what the hell is happening.” He sags forward, slinging his arms over your shoulders and tugging you closer.

You turn your head, kissing his bicep. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shrugs. “It’s work, work and work. That’s all I fuckin’ do now. I love The Den and working with my friends, and it always gets busy this time of year but shit…” he huffs, squeezing his eyes shut. “It was fine before because I had nothin’ else to do but now I have you.” He leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, “You're my girl—how the hell can I give you the attention, time and love that you deserve if I can’t even remember what day it is?”

Your heart aches as you stare into his disappointed blue eyes. Framed by thick lashes, they blink so slowly and sleepily.

“I don’t—I refuse to lose you because of something stupid like this.”

“You’re not going to lose me over one missed date.” You promise, meaning every word.

He chuckles dryly and turns back around to search through the closet again. “It starts like that. Then it’s another and another, and soon we aren’t even seeing each other for days at a time and resort to texts and five minute calls.” He rambles, “And then we’re just two strangers who had something great and you’re gonna get swept off your feet by some douchebag who can’t even remember your favourite colour. While you’re off with him in a big and bright city, I’m gonna be an old man still at The Den, talking about how I lost the girl of my dreams to drunk guys who have a million better things to do—”

“—would you be quiet!”

He looks over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“We aren’t going, so put down those jeans and sit on your bed.” You cross your arms.

Ari doesn’t move, his long fingers still clutching the denim. “Uh—”

“Shush.” You snatch the jeans from his hands and toss it on the dresser, and point to the unmade bed. “Go. Now.”

“Yes ma’am.” He mutters under his breath, cautiously walking around you to his bedroom. With a heavy breath, he plops on the mattress, leaning back with his legs spread wide.

His thin shorts ride up his thick thighs, displaying the built muscle and coarse hair. Quickly glancing over his shameless bulge, you admire his cute tummy and the chain dangling between his pecs.

You step towards him, cupping his bearded face in your hands and squishing his cheeks, making his lips pucker. “You have to take a break or else you’re gonna burn out.”

His eyes close peacefully, your touch silencing all of those pesky worries and looming fears. He was normally very reflective about his thoughts, and kept those stupid, useless, noisy ones to himself.

One of your hands moves to his hair, taking out the clip and running your fingers through the dark strands. “You always take care of me. You’re always so sweet and attentive, the best daddy I could’ve ever asked for.” You say softly and lean down, gently pulling his head back to kiss his cheek, trailing closer to his pink, plump lips. “Now I wanna take care of you.”

A low groan rumbles from his chest, “yeah, baby? You gonna take care of daddy tonight?”

“Mhm.” You hum with a chaste kiss. “Work out all those knots in your back, clear your head…” Your hands fall to his shoulders, tenderly pressing into the tense muscles. “Tonight is all about you, daddy. You deserve it.”

It’s about time we get back to the hot and steamy Flamingo Trailer Park !! The posting date would be earlier but your girl has exams 🥸 I hope you’re all as excited as me 🤩 pls feel free to share your thoughts !!

[anglingforlevels]

Love & Cruelty: Yandere Bully Victim x Bully Reader

I thought I’d write a piece for the first day of the year, just something mild to start the year off, but I slept through and cleaned most of the day, so instead I wrote it for the second day in the year, huzzah.

CW: Yandere, bullying, depiction of domestic violence and abuse, mention of alcoholism, violence (against reader), not proofread, dead dove

Minors DNI

Present Time

You had done something unforgiveable.

Everywhere you went, you were reminded of it. You saw it reflected in your parents’ eyes and teachers’ disappointed glances, heard it in your classmates whispers and murmurs, the way they’d avoid you, the way you’d spend lunches alone, the way they’d warn other students not to go near you, and most of all, you saw it in Elias.

The guy you had been relentlessly bullying for years.

Ten Years Ago

It began in elementary school. Your hometown was too small to have any more than one, so everyone were familiar with each other. It was a sense of comfortability, the trust and familiarity carried the brunt of most conflicts, thus, the atmosphere always felt so light, even amidst the middle school dramas and awkwardness.

Then a new kid from another town enrolled. In hindsight, the discomfort had perhaps just been the introduction of something new, something foreign, because even that first day – the air had felt stifled.

“This is your new classmate, Elias.”

He was small and scrawny, like the wind could knock him down without any notice. You had taken notice of the glasses he had worn, held together by tape, concealing a pair of pale blue eyes, to how baggy his clothes had been, and how his brown hair looked so messy and unkempt.

 Even without anyone needing to say a word about him, the atmosphere around him felt heavy.

“Please take the empty seat.”

That was all the teacher said, as if he had been in a hurry to get it over with. So, unceremoniously, Elias took the single empty seat there had been added to the room and kept his head down low.

Even if the air felt off, there was a certain buzz as well. Everyone was curious, how could they not be? So once the bell rang, everyone all but flocked to his desk, asking about where he came from, why he had moved, what did he like to do, any question they thought of.’

You remained in your seat, your head in your arms as you watched the interaction.

Elias struggled to keep up with the barrage of questions, though he weren’t given much time to answer any of them until a new one popped up. Still, he’d always take a second to look thoughtful, as if he genuinely gave thought to each question, even if it was clear the excitement would overwhelm any possibility of a reply.

“Enough.” The teacher’s voice had rung out sharply. “Go hold your own break.”

In other words, leave him alone.

Deflated, everyone moved away. Looking around, you disliked the way everyone’s shoulders were slumped and the awkwardness. Tipping in your chair, you let yourself fall back, catching everyone’s attention.

“Ah, I was paying attention!” You cried out in fake alarm, to which everyone laughed.

“As if, you were totally asleep!”

“No, no. I was definitely awake and paying attention.” You denied.

“Pfft- It’s break already, y’know.”

“Gah-“

Like that the bitterness dissolved and the classroom was once again familiar, warm, and filled with laughter. Even the frigidness of the teacher melted away as he shook his head and rolled his eyes with a small smile.

With normality restored, the break proceeded as it always did. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Elias’ solitary figure.

Though that moment had been dealt with, the rest of the day kept its spotlight on Elias, as rumors began spreading.

“My moms were talking about him the other day, so there must be some big deal about him.” Sophia had shared, and many others similarly could share anecdotes on how their parents had been whispered about him.

“We all know our duty, I trust.” You said, even though your parents hadn’t given any hint of knowing something about Elias. Everyone nodded, taking their self-decided job of detective seriously; there was a secret and none of you were content with letting sleeping dogs lie.

*

You were eager to go to school the following day, in case of any breaks in the case. In your case, it seemed your parents genuinely didn’t even know a new student had begun, though they were always too busy with their own matters to pay attention to that kind of thing.

You came up with all manners of ideas and scenarios, while tossing and turning in bed, though most of them grew outlandish, if not outright impossible, by the fourth idea. Though, you quite liked the idea of it being an intergalactic exchange program.

When morning came, you happily obliged the alarm, a fact there seemed to be so unlike you, that your mother jokingly checked if you had a fever. But nothing got the blood pumping like a mystery, so for once, you got seated at the breakfast table without needing any help.

Your little brother was much less willing, groggily trailing after your mom who had woken him up, though he apparently still had the energy to both watch cartoons and list up the entire catalogue of characters from said cartoon.

“Will dad be home this weekend?” your little brother asked when an ad break had given them a breather from his enthusiasm. The corner of your mom’s smile trembled slightly.

“Maybe.”

Before your brother lifted his head from the bowl of oatmeal that had held his attention – or rather, the fruit pieces he tried to single out – to look at mom, you distracted him. “His boss is like one of those villains from your cartoon, she might make him work through the weekend last minute.”

“The villains in my cartoons are way cooler than that.” He argued, preparing to explain the personality of each villain, you assumed. You didn’t doubt it. Though perhaps they were more honest, monologuing their plans out loud, regardless of what the truth would break.

“Well, they’re bad guys and so is his boss – my comparison still tracks.”

Your mom ruffled your hair with a soft smile. “I’m sure it does, but you need to begin eating if you wanna make the bus in time.”

At that, you began shoveling food, briefly considering whether chewing really was necessary – and being chided by your mom when you predictably began harking and coughing.

“I’m off!” You yelled out once you had gotten your shoes and jacket on.

At school, it seemed that everyone’s parents had been reluctant to share the secret, and so had the faculty, favoring silence instead, leaving everyone to simmer in curiosity, scrutinizing Elias’ movements.

You had boldly strolled up to him, asking “So, why are you here?”, but had been told to bugger off by the teacher himself, who didn’t seem to approve of any of the current attempts to interact with the kid. Perhaps, if you had done it in the break, you’d have gotten an answer, but now that the teacher was aware of the snooping, he dedicated ten minutes of the lesson to scolding the entire class.

But secrets often broke before silence did.

The next day, everyone had heard the whispers and rumors about Elias and why he was here, from older students in the hallways or parents who caved in. How he had been removed from his home, how he had been abused. No one knew what to say, he became a presence that was hard to acknowledge but impossible to ignore.

Elias seemed resigned to it, or maybe he just didn’t notice the difference between sitting alone as a new kid or sitting alone as a taboo subject.

“Jay, start us off.”

Jay, who had been rereading the German text furiously, stood up so abruptly that the chair almost fell over in the process, to the bemusement of his fellow students and the annoyance of the teacher. Jay looked too nervous to even be sheepish, even after the teacher remarked that there was no need to stand up to read out loud.

“Sein Bla, er, I mean. Sein Bl-ick ist vom, no, no, I mean fom!”

You were following along his clumsily pronounced words, in order not to lose track of where in the text he was at, as he kept stopping to try and repeat words, though he seemed proud whenever he caught himself making mistakes.

After another line, the teacher raised a hand to stop him, before coolly adding; “That’ll do. Next time, try practicing a bit before class, alright?”

Jay hung his head, hiding his annoyed frown. Ellie, who sat behind him, reached out to pat his back.

“Elias, please continue from where Jay left off.”

“Ah, um…” He looked around cluelessly, until the teacher sighed and gave his copy of the text to Elias, pointing at where they were at. Elias complied, clutching unto the paper.  “I-ihm,” he swallowed, “est, ist, uh, a-als orb-“

He stuttered and stumbled nervously over the words, the reading becoming so intelligible that Sophia, who was next, wasn’t sure where to begin her section. And the teacher didn’t say anything. Even though he told off Jay, who put in way more practice…

When it was your turn, you stood up – earning a scoff from the teacher. “N-n-n-n-nur m-m-manchmal-“ You loudly read out, your exaggerated stuttering earning breathless chuckles and snickers across the room.

“That’s enough, that’s not funny. Sit down.” With that dry remark, the teacher let the subject fall. Your eyes fell on the back of Elias as you sat down, you noticed the way he was trembling slightly. Then Jay caught your eyes, grinning behind his book, and around you everyone else was also laughing, and Elias’ weak trembling was soon forgotten.

For the first time today, the atmosphere felt light.

*

During lunch, Elias was sitting alone again, with what might be the saddest sandwich you had ever seen. Two incredibly thin slices of cheap bread, encasing a single and even thinner slice of ham. The dryness and how loose the sandwich was made you think there wasn’t a hint of butter or condiments to it either.

You looked down at your lunch. You could probably afford to give away one or two things. Your mom always were generous with portions, so you probably wouldn’t be too hungry if you gave something away.

“Hey, Elias!” you waved him over. For a moment he just stared at you with uncertainty. You nodded enthusiastically and gestured for him to come sit. Elias’ eyes betrayed a sense of disbelief, but he quickly complied, hurrying to your side.

You proudly slid your beloved egg-salad sandwich towards him. “My mom made way too much for me today, but she’ll be super annoyed with me if I have leftovers. So,” you clapped your hand together. “Please help cover for me!”

The others always loved it when you put on a little show, to seal the deal you sighed theatrically, the type of sigh that could only be performed tongue-in-cheek or by overeager drama students.

Elias examined the sandwich carefully, as if he thought it would be yanked away from him should he make any sudden movements. Around you, the others stiffened.

“Uh, yeah… Take one of mine too.”

“And my apple…”

The others around you began providing their own offerings, but their eyes were downcast, as if a weight hung around their necks. You furrowed your brow at that. They clearly didn’t want to give away their food.

You thought Elias would look anxious, being the center of the most painful give-away session, you had witnessed. Instead, he looked at you wide-eyed – he reminded you of a duckling with the way he looked at you, expectant yet hesitant.

It irked you. If he wasn’t uncomfortable, then why didn’t he spare a glance to everyone else who was? Somehow, lunch had become a painful event.

“Hm, nevermind.” You suddenly declared, cutting through the quiet pity, and simmering discomfort. You snapped the sandwich out of his hand. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as they waited to see where you were heading with this. “Clearly, you’ve got more than enough.”

You looked pointedly at the disjointed mix of pity-encrusted offerings. After a beat, Elphie nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, actually this is too much for one person.” And took back the apple she had given. The others followed suit, retracting their offers, and taking their food back.

The mood was improving but the stare of Elias felt like shackles, tying the mood to a subpar level. If he was going to take from you, then you’d need to even the scores.

You scoffed before smiling. “Yeah, it’s way too much for one person. But we’ll help you out, new kid.”

And with those words, you took the last thing away – the pitiful sandwich Elias had brought.

The others laughed in disbelief, throwing in light-hearted “aw, that’s mean” between giggles. Everything was restored as laughter filled the room again, and Elias was left behind.

Present Time

Trailing along the river and jumping over the thick branches, you understood the fact that you had committed a cruelty that couldn’t be taken back.

How could you forget, when no one else did, save for the one guy being bullied. He still rushed up to you, wide-eyed, even when you didn’t call for him. You didn’t really understand him, who’d wanna spend time with their bully?

Part of you felt creeped out by his eagerness, even though part of you understood he might just be scared that things would escalate if he didn’t, or even worse, that this was a survival tactic he had learned from home.

It had quickly become the school’s worst-kept secret, that Elias had been removed from his physically abusive dad’s care. Even though you never got violent, perhaps this was how Elias had learned to keep peace?

You felt disgusted with yourself, for your actions, your lack of perspective, and for, even now, seeking him out, because by the river, stood Elias, feeding the ducks. You wanted to turn tail and run away – but even if you couldn’t make amends, this was something you had to do.

Eight Years Ago

You woke up in the middle of the night and wished for nothing more than to succumb to sleep’s sweet embrace, but a dry throat proved the better negotiator, prompting you to sneak through the hallway as to not wake anyone up.

As you neared the kitchen, the sound of hushed voices proved those considerations null.

“Erik, you don’t bring that shit to my house.”

“Oh, so now it’s your house?”

“Well, I’m the one sleeping here every night-“

“Ugh, would you quit it?! I was just sleeping over, she’s a friend!”

“Uh-huh, a sleepover, was it? I’d sure like a friend like that, if this is what a husba-“

Biting your lip, you purposely stepped on the floorboard you knew creaked, and forced a yawn as you entered the kitchen. Your mom and dad straightened up, the guilty look on their faces made you think of the face your little brother pulled when he was caught trying to sneak another snack.

“Hi honey, why’re you up?”

“I’m thirsty. Can I have something warm to drink?”

They visibly relaxed at that. You wondered why they thought you wouldn’t notice that kind of reaction. “Of course, honey. We’ll make something for you.”

In the end, it didn’t matter. For a brief moment, your parents were smiling and everything was normal again.

The next day, after braving the harsh coldness of winter, you made it to school, where everyone else seemed much less well-rested than you.

It seemed everyone was bummed out about the upcoming test scores, suggesting nobody was particularly proud or confident in their own work. Then again, they were probably concerned, given it was only last year you had all graduated into middle schoolers.

Even though it was still in the same building, it felt like a big deal.

You remembered last time a test had gotten the better of everyone’s nerves, that you had “accidentally” spilled your water bottle all over yourself, that had worked like a spell, everyone too busy laughing and fretting over you to worry about their grades.

This case was particularly nasty, though. Your light-hearted jabs doing nothing to penetrate the armor of stress and anxiety they all wore.

“Anyone up for some pizza after school?” You asked, when you weren’t met with excitement, you added. “My treat.”

“That sounds good but I’m not sure my stomach can take it, if I get a bad grade.” Jay said, his anxiety clearly having turned painful and was clutching his stomach with a groan. The others weren’t much better off.

Your eyes fell on your water bottle, once again reminded of your efforts last time. But you couldn’t repeat the same old thing, complacency was the enemy of comedy.

“Elias sure doesn’t seem bothered.” Sophia noted with a hint of envy, at that, the attention shifted to Elias, who true to Sophia’s words, appeared to be enjoying a normal school day, bereft of any added stresses from the test scores, though it felt more like apathy to you.

You weren’t sure if he actually cared about his grades at all.

“He didn’t look worried at all under the test either.” Jay murmured.

“Whaat, so he was confident? Coulda offered some pointers then.”

…

You loosened the cap on your bottle and stood up, interrupting the quiet mumbling of your classmates.

“Hey Elias.” You called out, gaining his attention. He was quick to close his notebook, clutching it closely to his chest, as he hurried to your side. He was always so eager, as if you hadn’t thrown spiders or played tricks on him almost every time you called on him. “I can’t get my water opened, the others were total weaklings and failed too. Be my knight in shining armor, ‘kay?”

You held your bottle out to him, and he swiftly grabbed it, but you didn’t let go at first. You waited for a beat, so that he’d stumble slightly, and gravity would remove the already opened cap. The force made the water splash all over Elias, surprising him enough to let go of the bottle, thus leaving it in a freefall that left Elias even more soaked, as he desperately tried to keep his notebook dry.

“Wow, if I had known you were this strong, I’d have stepped back first from the splash-zone.”

The others laughed at the display, and Sophia pulled you towards the tables and away from the soaked Elias. “You’re way too nice, you’re always looking out for us.” She had said to you.

You had taken those words to heart, in a way, you considered it a duty, looking out for them and the status quo. So, you continued.

From tripping him, leaving messes when it was his turn to clean the classroom, making fun of him, playing pranks on him – everyone was laughing.

Four Years Ago

Over the year, as you all got older, the laughter began to still and the others would begin suggesting other things to do whenever you spotted him. You thought your efforts were lacking, but even though you tried harder, the gleam in their eyes were missing and their laughter rang out hollower, the sound empty and muted.

Soon they began excusing themselves from you, growing infinitely busier whenever you were in the vicinity. Were you being too mild? Maybe that was simply what happened in comedy, complacency made it boring.

So, you’d hide his stuff, steal his lunch, whatever you could think of to take it up a notch, so that you could help reclaim normality, so everyone else would smile and laugh again.

Everything came to a head during a self-study period. Having gotten up from your seat, you sauntered over to Elias.

“Lemme take a look.” You said, trying to peek at his worn-out notebook. Normally, Elias let you do anything, but this time, he closed the notebook shut. You tried to pull it out his tight grip. “Hm? What’s the big idea? Hidin’ something?”

“Just stop it, I’m telling the teacher!” a voice rung out behind you, startling you. It was Ellie, one of your classmates, who crossed her arms angrily. You had never seen her angry before.

“Uh, sorry. I wasn’t trying to actually cheat. No need to get a teacher.” You tried to clarify.

“As if that’s what we’re talking about.” You were surprised to see Jay interject. “You’re… a bully.”

…

“A what?” you blinked in disbelief. “C’mon, that’s not funny-“

“You’re not funny.” A third voice interjected. Looking around, you saw a sea of disapproving faces. “Leave him alone, honestly what did he ever do to you?”

“C’mon, we all had fun goofing around.”

“This is not goofing around. We were kids, we stopped. You didn’t.”

You stood silently for a bit, unsure what to say, until you grabbed your bag and unceremoniously left, skipping the rest of the day. You didn’t spare a single glance for Elias – worried what his expression might reveal.

How were you a bully? You couldn’t be. That was ridiculous. Everyone else had always laughed along, they always loved it. This would all blow over soon once everyone calmed down enough to talk it out.

But the next day, not a single person spoke to you. The teacher didn’t pick you or call on you either. It was as if you were invisible. The only one to look at you were Elias.

It annoyed you.

During the break, nobody welcomed you to their tables. A few even telling you to fuck off, explicitly. You wondered if this was going to continue, as you spent your break feeling sorry for yourself.

When you got home after school, you took a deep breath and put on a smile, hoping it looked genuine and carefree. But when you entered, it wasn’t normality embracing you but heated voices.

“If you spent even one weekend actually at home then-“

“Oh, so this is my fucking fault?!”

This early today?

You let your bag hit the floor to make their argument halt, before seeking them out to ease the atmosphere. “Hey mom and dad, playing that dumb quiz game again?”

You smiled at them but not even the excuse on a silverplate eased their expression.

Huh? Why do they still look so upset?

Your mom had her arms crossed and donned a frown, while your dad looked troubled.

“We got a call from your school today.”

Why would they receive a call from the school? Though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, Jay’s voice replayed in your head. “You’re… a bully.”

This... No, this wasn’t right.

“Ah, about my last test? Gah, I really screwed up with-“

“No. This is about your classmate, Elias.”

Your forced smile froze. Were they going to call you a bully too? Elias was the one who kept taking from you, your classroom, your classmates, and now your parents?

Their expressions were broken, as they seemed to decide between staring intently at you and being unable to look at you. You think your dad had wanted to weep, his eyes teary the entire night, but your parents weren’t good as sadness – so they settled for anger.

*

You still continued going to school, though it was the only excursion you were allowed for the foreseeable future. The school itself did nothing once the call had been made, happy to ignore any issues there’d reflect badly on them.

But the word had spread even further, to other grades and every teacher, and you felt the way people fell silent when you entered a room, the way they’d put their bags on empty seats to show you weren’t welcome.

During your breaks, your new routine became to retreat somewhere in solitude, after all your attempts of joining a group at lunch failed. It felt almost voluntary if you went somewhere lonesome. But it didn’t remain that way today, as Elias showed up.

“What are you doing here?”

“I thought,” he said, his own nerves seeming to leave him breathless, as he got closer “you’re alone at lunch, so we could-“

“Great, I’m being pitied now?” you sneered. “You got some nerve; this is your fault to begin with.”

He kept taking and taking.

Elias, stilled for a moment, before resuming his careful approach, as if you were a wild beast. He was within arm reach of you, and still approaching.

“Get the hint already.” You said and shoved him. You didn’t mean to push him to the ground, you just wanted to get him away from you, but even so, he landed harshly on the ground, hissing out in pain.

You stared, frozen.

You noticed the way his elbow had been scratched and was bleeding.

With no crowd, you were faced with the simple reality. No one was laughing, you were just hurting someone – there was nothing else to it. Wiping your teary eyes with quivering hands, you left.

Two Years Ago

“Today, a new student begins.” There was a ruckus in the classroom, excited murmurs, and whispers. “I expect all of you to welcome her with open arms.” Your teacher didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t looking at you, at the last part.

You kept your head down, pretending not to be paying much attention.

The town was still small, and newcomers were still a rarity, this girl being the first one since Elias – so you couldn’t help your own curiosity as well, watching her introduce herself. She said her name was Ann, she wore bright-colored clothes and had a lot of freckles.

She seemed sweet, and impressively unaffected by speaking in front of strangers. You accidentally made eye contact, and she smiled sweetly at you. You replayed the moment over and over in your head.

When break came, she was crowded as expected, but you thought you’d shoot your shot – it had been a long time since you had a friend, so you felt anxious. Your mouth was dry, and your legs felt like cement, but you had to do it.

On three, you’d get up and say hi.

One.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You heard Ann ask about the ones still seated.

Two.

You opened your eyes, putting your hands on the table. “The guy in the front is Elias, he’s not very sociable, so don’t worry about him not coming over.”

Three.

“What about them?”

“Oh, them. They’re a bully, you should stay away from them.”

You were half-way up from your seat when you heard it. It felt as if being doused by ice water, breaking the illusion, and you sat back down.

Present Time

You swallowed, before drawing attention to yourself. “Elias.”

He turned around, shocked at your approach. Whether he was startled or was surprised at the fact you did the approaching, you couldn’t tell. Your hands felt sweaty and clammy.

“You’re-“ his voice wavered as he took a step closer to you. You held your hands up, to show you came in peace, but he came to a halt at the gesture.

“Listen, I… Shit.” You dug your nails into your palm, trying to steel yourself. “I’m sorry.”

Elias’ creased his brow. “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah, I know that might be hard to believe or, y’know, sound super sketchy coming from me but, I really am. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done, I know no words could ever- Nothing I say could…” Your rambled, clumsy words fell apart, you had been unable to pen down anything appropriate to say before coming here, and now your tongue seemed to fail as well.

His eyes widened and his body stiff, he donned a stunned expression.

But that was only natural, wasn’t it? Expecting him to even want to hear your apology to begin with… It was nothing but arrogance.

“I… Sorry.”

You turned around to leave but he grabbed hold of your wrist. When you looked at him, you were caught off guard by the desperation in his eyes, he was crying.

“What do you mean sorry?!” His hold on your wrist was beginning to hurt, as he got closer. “It wasn’t wrong, I’m still here. Don’t say you’re sorry!”

“I- I understand you’re probably feeling a lot of different things right now, words aren’t enough, I understand that, but…” You felt his nails digging painfully into your wrist and wondered if it’d bruise tomorrow. “Please let go of me.”

“Don’t leave me alone. Don’t abandon me.”

“W-what?” You attempts to tear his hand off your wrist came to a halt at that. You were noticing the way blood droplets were pooling around his fingertips, but you doubted that he did. “T-then, we can be friends, it doesn’t have to be so mean, I promise to spend time with you.”

Elias expression fell, and for the first time, you saw a frown on his face, and his voice was quiet.

“Don’t stop.” Elias grabbed onto your shoulder, leaving almost no room between the two of you, and his voice rose into desperate yells, almost cracking. “Please! Keep going! It doesn’t matter what everyone else says, our way is definitely right. Mock me, kick me, just keep going. Don’t ever tell me sorry!”

His grab on you had weakened for a moment when tears became weeping, and you took the opportunity to rip your arm out of his hold. “You’re fucking crazy!”

Maybe there was a kinder response, even with your bleeding arm you felt bad about it, but somehow that was the only response your shock and fear could bring out. You turned to leave, vowing to yourself that you’d at least reach out after someone who could provide the help he clearly needed.

It hadn’t occurred to you that Elias could ever be a threat, as you without hesitance turned your back on him, when you felt a searing pain in the back of your head, and the world went dark.

*

From an early age, it was apparent to Elias’ what true cruelty was.

Apathy.

When he was young, his mother had suffered a stroke and passed away. His father didn’t take it well, seeking peace at the end of bottles. Most nights he might as well have been dead, as far as the world was concerned.

He saw nothing and wanted to feel nothing too.

This left Elias alone.

No matter how much he cried and begged, it only drove his father further into despair on the few occasions he took notice of him, and further into the arms of alcohol’s sweet oblivion.

He tried cleaning the house, making it look nice. Tried cooking dinner, he had burned himself a couple of times, but his dad never noticed that nor the meal. Nothing worked.

So, he began saying things his dad couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore.

“Mother was weak to die over something so small.”

“I’m glad mother is dead; she was an awful parent.”

“It’s your fault she’s dead, she was overworked.”

It never failed to draw a reaction, angry yells and stomps, arguments, even slaps. And that – that was attention! His dad was paying him attention!

Elias had finally found his perfect home life. He’d break plates on purpose and his dad would get angry and tell him. He’d mock his mother’s death and his dad would slap him. Even as the dad’s eating habits decreased, replaced by more and more bottles, Elias felt truly happy.

“I’m surprised you haven’t moved on from someone that ugly.”

Slap.

Elias was happy to start the day like that, and was ready to begin preparing breakfast, when the sound of sobs caught his attention. His dad had collapsed to the floor, weeping.

“Am I the kind of person who hits other when I’m angry, is this all there’s left of me?”

What?

Far worse than indifference and apathy, his father - the same one who only loved when prompted – cried in regret over loving him, no prompting needed. Elias smashed one of those forsaken bottles right next to his dad, causing glass to splinter, nicking his dad.

“What’s that supposed to mean, old man. Are you that useless, that you can’t even love your kid?” Elias released a bitterness that he had always swallowed and accepted.

Why did he always need to work for attention? Why was he the only one putting in effort? He smashed another bottle, this time right next to his dad’s head. Maybe the third one would actually hit him, but as Elias’ lifted another bottle, he was interrupted by a punch to the face.

Oh. This is it.

Crumbled on the ground with a broken nose, Elias felt truly loved for the first time. He hadn’t tried to make his dad do this, that meant it was genuine and almost unprompted. He had received attention, far harsher and more impactful than before.

However, the sound of broken bottles had attracted the neighbors in the apartment complex, as Elias hadn’t taken sound into consideration in the heat of the moment.

Of course, there was only one conclusion they could draw, walking in on this scene. A child on the floor with a broken nose, broken bottles amidst many, many empty ones.

Without much fanfare, Elias’ father was convicted, and Elias was taken away. But he held onto that moment of love, maybe one day when his father was released, they’d reunite and be a happy family again.

Elias got a new start in a new city but was left on his own. He felt the adults look at him with pity, and as always, pity meant being ignored and brushed aside.

He had learned it during his mother’s funeral, that grownups hated not knowing what to say or do, they hated not being able to fix a problem – so when they couldn’t, they’d look away. Soon, as his classmates learned, they began averting their gaze too.

Except for one.

Elias found what he had been looking for all this time. Without any prompting, they had shown him love. They were a shining light in the dark, the kindest person among brutes. Without fail, they’d shower him with attention and love, and they did it so boldly in front of others too.

Elias thought that this might have been what heaven felt like, but he was sure that in the future, they’d forge a genuine paradise together. He wondered who would take whose last name, and often doodled drawings of them in his notebook.

He even borrowed a book of wedding rituals from across the world, so he could draw them in all kinds of wedding attire. Then – a crack in paradise.

“You’re… a bully.”

Were they that stupid? Or maybe they were blind. If they didn’t see the love he shared with them. They pulled back after that, even when Elias tried to seek them out. They had asked if he couldn’t take a hint, but of course he could.

Their classmates told the teachers and everyone that they were a monster, and like idiots, the entire school believed it. If he didn’t want them to be expelled and separated from him, like his father, they needed to hold back, until it all blew over.

So, he didn’t poke and prod, he didn’t push. Even as they ran from him, he didn’t mind. They weren’t leaving him behind, being together like this was probably just too much for them. They really were a romantic.

Even if it took years, he waited. Graduation was going to be soon, and after that, they could be together, unrestrained. So, when they approached him, he felt delighted. Ah, they couldn’t help themselves?

How cute.

He had also felt more and more impatient, the closer graduation came – like always, they were united in their feelings. They were even stumbling over their words nervously, it was an adorable and exciting new side to them, one he had never seen.

“I’m sorry.”

…The hell did they just say?

No, that wasn’t right, that wasn’t okay – please, keep looking at him, he needs them to keep looking at him. “Then – we can be friends, it doesn’t have to be so mean, I promise to spend time with you”? Don’t make him laugh, don’t promise apathy coated with sugar-lies.

It’s no different than the others “that’s mean, we should be nicer to him”, “let’s play nice from now on”, “leave him alone, honestly what did he ever do to you” all ends the same, he’s alone and ignored. The sight of their back turned to him, was the only reason he needed.

With a nearby branch, he lunged at them.

*

You opened your eyes, the world blurry for a while before beginning to take any shape there made sense to you. A headache rung through your head, with heavy thuds, and your body felt stiff.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Elias’ voice sounded cheerful behind you, but it was first when you tried to turn around, that your slow, pained mind realized you were tied to a chair. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad anymore.”

You felt his hand on your head, and thought his touch was gentle, the weight was still enough to make you hiss in pain. Elias came into view, standing by your side.

“This is my fault, I realized. I got it all wrong, and then you got the wrong idea. I thought I needed to do things differently this time, so we weren’t separated like me and my dad, so I held back all this time, I didn’t push.

But then you kept ignoring me, no matter how much I tried to talk to you. I thought I’d wait, just like you wanted. But I was wrong. When you apologized, I was so confused and heartbroken, but I understand now! It was my fault; I didn’t get your hint.”

“Hint?” Your voice sounded slow and distant in your ears. Elias nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ve been selfish this entire time,” his words almost drowned out by the ringing in your ears, still managed to clearly fill your heart, a dreadful, unwelcome intrusion. He crouched next to your tied up form, a gentle smile on his lips and a crinkle in his eyes.

Then he harshly grabbed onto your hair, forcing your body upwards, in an awkward position due to being tied to the chair. “Love is about giving,” he let go, letting you and the chair crash towards the floor with no way of breaking the fall. “But all I’ve done is take.”

You were trembling, as you attempted to shift to a position there’d at least let your current threat remain visible. A hard kick forced your head against the floor until it felt as if your bones would shift beneath the weight.

“But that’s no good, not if I want to keep receiving.” The pressure increased, as you felt snot and spit pool together. Then – a loud crack and the blood poured.

“It’s about time I give.”

[27-royal-teas]

okay i just reread the post this time without frozen eyeballs (long story) but I NEED TO KNOW ABT THE SEPIA RECORD STORE!!!! that’s such a good name i love it

ok so I actually just called it that because the day I started writing it the sky was like, yellow, and everything outside looked like a sepia photograph, so I was like, ‘ok I’ll do something. with that’ but the plot is kind of just ‘pete is feeling depressed so he goes to this record shop (based on the very real very cool record store downtown in my city) and patrick is there and they talk music’ and that’s all the plot I had but I actually did get a couple pages written for it. snippet under the cut!!

****** It’s one of those days where nothing feels quite right. The sky is a painted sepia yellow, the kind that glitters like gold but doesn’t quite show up in a phone camera. It’s an odd day. Usually Pete likes these, but today he is so neck-deep in a funk he can’t actually gather up the energy to enjoy it. 

He is in his room, lying under a pile of several blankets- his entire body is covered in warm, smothering darkness. The blankets are soft. The world is not. The world is a hard, mean motherfucker. Pete is avoiding it. Really, Pete is avoiding everything right now. It’s both the fact that he really wants to avoid confrontation and also the fact that he kind of wants to die. 

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you clean your room,” Pete’s mom suggests, bright and cheery eyed, because she is a normal functioning human being who doesn’t fall into random throes of distress and depression on any given day. 

“That won’t help,” Pete mutters from under the pile of blankets. 

“It might. Try it.”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t see anything if I stay under here anyway.”

“Is this because we moved?”

“No.”

His mother lifts the pile of blankets on one side so he can see her eyes. They are dark brown, a mirror of his own, and edged with exasperation. “It’ll help you feel cleaner. And go take a shower.” 

She doesn’t tell him he needs to come out of the blanket pile, which Pete appreciates. 

“Love you too,” groans Pete, trying desperately to cover his eyes with the blanket again. The bedroom light is WAY too bright. It is too early for this. It is also too late for this. There’s never a good time when he feels this way. Suddenly wanting his mother to understand, he explains, “If I clean my room, it will take a lot of energy, and then I would have wasted energy and time, and the room will just get messy again, so it would have been a waste of cleaning my room altogether.”

“The time will pass anyway, Peter.”

This is true, but Pete just hates that she’s right. All at once, he just wants to be left alone. 

“Mom, just… please go away. I think I’ll be fine.”

He braces for the warm darkness of the blanket to be taken away again, but instead he just hears his mother’s sigh and the quiet click of the door on her way out.

Pete continues to lie under the blanket in his dark room on a sepia tinted day and thinks to himself, this is what it will be like when you are dead.

[lotusthewriter]

Parachutes

Fandom: Heartstopper (Netflix)

Rating: T

Relationships: Charlie/Nick

Characters: Charlie Spring, Nick Nelson

Summary: He can’t even look at his boyfriend.

“Charlie,” Nick says softly, “it’s okay.”

That’s not true.

It’s not okay.

It’s not.

Word count: 1.146

AO3

A/N: I wrote this based both on my personal experience, as well as Solitaire, which I've been reading in the past days. This is not compliant with the webcomic, instead season 1 of the Netflix series.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - self-harm (cutting), injury, anxiety, and non-explicit descriptions of blood.

P/roship DNI.

He can’t even look at his boyfriend.

“Charlie,” Nick says softly, “it’s okay.”

That’s not true.

It’s not okay.

It’s not.

“It’s okay,” Nick insists, likely reading his mind. “It happens, Charlie.”

Why isn’t he angry? Why isn’t he disappointed?

Why isn’t he leaving him?

Any person would.

“Charlie,” his boyfriend whispers, sounding sad. Even then, he’s not breaking down in tears.

The curly-haired teen is shaking his head, his eyes burning in the same intensity as his arms, bloodshot like the multiple wounds that taint his body.

“I-It’s–” he sobs, “it’s not. It’s not okay.”

He’s squeezing his left arm, his hand stained with red. Nick is putting a gentle hand on top of his to calm him down.

“This is my fault,” Charlie says.

The boy stares at Nick’s hoodie, just so he doesn’t have to see his tragic look.

“I resisted for so long, and now… I did it again,” Charlie sniffs. “After I promised myself, after I promised my friends and- and Tori, and my parents… I f-failed everyone, and…” His lips quiver. “I failed myself.”

He knows it’s just going to make things worse, but Charlie wants to tear his arm further, to bleed more as a punishment. But of course, Nick won’t let that happen.

“Charlie, look at me.”

The other shakes his head.

“Please.” Nick slowly cups his face, ready to remove it if Charlie feels uncomfortable. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t want to.

But… he has to.

For Nick’s sake.

All he meets is patience.

Patience and unconditional love.

Charlie might not even believe that they’re for him, but they are.

“Charlie,” Nick begins, “you’re hurting. That’s not your fault. You didn’t fail anyone and you didn’t fail yourself. Relapses are normal. Of course they’re painful, but it doesn’t mean that your entire progress has gone down the drain.”

His boyfriend’s fingers tenderly wipe his tears for him, extremely careful like Charlie is made of glass. Cracked glass, that is. So cracked that the reflections are horribly distorted. That’s not what Nick sees, and perhaps that’s not what his loved ones see, either.

“Believe me, you’re not a failure. You’re a human being,” Nick smiles sadly. “Repeat that.”

Charlie gulps.

“I’m… not a failure,” he tries. “I-I’m a human being.”

“One more time.”

Charlie chuckles. “I’m not a failure. I’m a human being.”

“You repeat it to yourself as many times as you need, okay?” Nick tells him. “You’re the most beautiful human being in the world.”

“You sound like a coach,” Charlie snorts.

“Well… I’m a rugby lad, I can’t help it.”

That has Charlie actually laugh. Well, it sounds wet and messy. But it’s something.

Finally, Nick takes his stained hand, not disgusted at all. Sad, of course, but not at all hesitant.

“Let’s clean you up, shall we?”

Charlie wants to cry again, yet in joy and gratitude. He’s never met someone as willing to take care of him without breaking down. Of course, Charlie knows anyone is right to feel upset about this; although Tori is the best person to help him with it, he knows that she cries a lot in her room, even letting out tears while with Charlie because of how much it affects her.

Nick is still affected, obviously. He looks sad and worried, but he doesn’t mourn Charlie. Nick is determined to learn the proper way to approach to help Charlie feel better.

He shouldn’t be surprised, because this is Nick Nelson, the most amazing person in the whole world. The actual most beautiful human being. But still, Charlie can’t help it.

Nick does most of the work, which makes Charlie feel guilty. The latter wants everything to be clean and perfect again, like nothing happened. He’s already thinking about telling his family and how he dreads the possibility. Just these thoughts make him want to hurt himself again.

Suddenly, Nick is right by his side with a cup of warm chocolate with marshmallows. Charlie is admittedly not hungry, but it smells and tastes too great to be rejected. Besides, Nick gave it with his heart.

Charlie, though, can’t help staring at his now bandaged arms, knowing the cuts will become another couple of scars in his body. He doesn’t usually show his arms out there, instead resorting to big clothes. He really hates his body, that’s why he wants to hurt it. But when Charlie hurts it, he hates himself more for it. It’s an unhealthy cycle that never ends.

Maybe noticing his contemplation, Nick is taking off his hoodie – which always has Charlie stare and catch himself blushing.

“Here.” Nick hands it to him. “You can keep it.”

Charlie smirks. “Like I don’t already keep all your other ones.”

Nick rolls his eyes. “I’m willingly giving this to you. No charges.”

Charlie wants to kiss him.

As soon as he puts on the hoodie – which smells so… Nick –, he lies against his boyfriend’s arms and lets himself be hugged. Nick kisses his forehead for a few seconds, so Charlie still feels it even when they’re apart.

“Nick?” He calls.

“Hm?”

“Will you…” Charlie bites his lip. “Stay over tonight?”

“Yeah. I cleared up with my mum.”

“Okay.”

Silence. Mostly from Charlie’s part.

“What?” Nick asks, knowing something is on his mind.

“I… don’t want to tell them.”

Nick thinks. Charlie doesn’t need to specify who “they” are.

“But… they’ve got to know, right?” Nick asks.

“Well, yeah, but I’m scared they’re going to be mad at me.”

They contemplate. Or Charlie thinks of everything that can go wrong.

“Maybe we could tell Tori first,” Nick suggests, “then your parents.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I could help you tell them.”

“Nick,”– Charlie jumps out of the hug –“you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I know this is a hard thing to tell someone, that’s why I want to be there for you.”

He sounds so certain… He really does love Charlie.

“Are you sure?” Charlie insists.

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want, Charlie. I’m not going to force anything.”

Charlie is conflicted, as usual. He wants to kiss Nick for being so amazing. He wants to push Nick away precisely because he’s amazing. He wants to hide in the dark and never come out. But most importantly…

He wants help.

Charlie sighs, relieved.

“Okay,” he whispers. “We’ll do it together.”

Nick grins like a golden retriever, like the literal sun. So bright…

“Okay.”

With that, the two return to their cuddling position, the warm chocolate cooling down. Even then, Nick still drinks the rest, while never letting go of Charlie.

Every time they hug or cuddle, Charlie forgets the world outside. He gets to feel safe and comforted in his boyfriend’s strong arms, and most importantly, Charlie feels loved even in this state.

Charlie is loved.

And he deserves it.

He just needs to remember that.

[boyswanna-be-her]

Time off where I don't travel allows me to become the worst version of myself and I always fall for it!!!

Actually, no Kelly. Let's not start this week with negativity. The only thing I am behind on is cleaning, and cleaning is just one thing in the enormity of things that I am responsible for.

Maybe i DO slack off on vacation, but there are plenty of things I used to do during vacation that I'm not doing this time!! I'm still taking a shower every day and doing my skin maintenance, maintaining a normal sleep/wake schedule, getting out of bed even if I don't do much afterwards. And there are things I haven't done that I usually do, like staying up all night doing something that could definitely be done the next day (video game, writing a story, movie marathon, finishing a book, etc). I haven't completely abandoned eating well--I've even been eating breakfast and lunch instead of farting around for hours until I'm famished and nauseated. I haven't been drinking to excess and I'm honestly smoking a lot less than I used to after adding cbd to my routine. Usually my thc tolerance goes WAYYY up around vacation bc I start smoking a lot more. I mean fuck, I even did a BUNCH of laundry and put it away, and changed the kitty litter.

Yes ideally I would have also cleaned out my fridge, done the dishes, deep-cleaned my bathroom, and decluttered my living room. But I think I can give myself a pass on that and not start the week off feeling shitty because my apartment is messy. I've been doing almost everything else better than my normal vacation standards. And I still have the better part of two weeks to chip away at my dirty apartment... which I guess I have been doing, slowly but surely.

Anyway!!! I truly only meant to post the first line of this entry, but then I looked at it and thought "hmm but what would my therapist say about that?" and realized that I was not giving myself any credit because I was frustrated over one category of things I'm behind on.

[fragileizywriting]

mhmhmhmnm. decaying in my mattress thinking about a marinette who awkwardly makes her way back into the libertwo after three days of breathing room, coming to terms with what's happened, and she has a key to the house and sits on the living room couch and just. soaks in the smell, i guess? like, she's just sitting there. nothing's changed. it feels like luka hasn't even changed the sheets (the last ones, that is, because the first few ones during her heat are.... well. they've been disposed of for a reason. they were the plastic ones, the scratchy ones, the ones that cover the mattress as if it were a garbage bag, because omegas and heats and ruts and alphas... get a little messy) and everything smells like them. the heat had died off after a while, and instead of frenzy, there'd been calm. collected. infatuation, sure, but it'd been... normal. sane. not antsy, because the clear Alert! Alert! Alert! signs that had pricked her glands over and over again had balmed over, sandpapered smooth with luka's presence and touch and gentle nips to her skin.

the place smells like them, and marinette is so, so scared because he hasn't even washed the sheets. he hasn't even done the dishes yet of the day either, and that's kind of gross, because the two of them have always been the type of people to wash the dishes after every meal; she spends her time cleaning it. disenfecting the counters. just... making it neater. she ignores the fridge. doesn't want to give in to looking at the stocked crispers. how her favorite yogurt is in there, still in the little containers, in strawberry and strawberry-bananas, and how luka had spent an egregious amount of money to get the fancy ones that comes in little glass cups. they're not even yoplaits.

luka comes in after the whole day on the streets and spots her checking over to see if there's anything she's missed when sweeping the floors. just... trying to make it look more presentable. it's his own house. she has the urge to polish it all, anyway. put her touch on it.

he's almost in tears with relief when they spot one another.

[tomthebassoon]

Growing up with ADHD is like Oohoo! I’m so hyper! Oh no, my room is messy :( I have colored every brick on this side of the house with chalk. I forgot to do my homework. Of course I’m smart, I read when I’m bored and I’m bored all the time. The other kids make fun of me because I’m weird, but I can’t tell. I have one friend (they are autistic) (they don’t talk much. I talk too much). I wonder what would happen if I kicked my brother (he kicks me back). What did you say? I was off in lala land again. yeah, hahaha I’m so quirky. I have chopped this shirt into little pieces because it is a Bad Texture. 

Living as an adult with ADHD is like I have been in the bathroom for 3 hours and still have not washed my hair. How do people have relationships? They talk to each other normally every day? Why do none of my clothes fit? (I can’t set regular habits to keep my weight consistent.) My room is actually disgusting. Why is there mold in my lunch box? (I hardly ever have time to pack lunch and forget to clean it out when I do) I need medication. How do I get medication? There’s so many steps. I’m so tired. Why did I cut my hair instead of sleeping or finding a psychiatrist or doing my laundry or exercising or writing and sending that one email I really need to send before the deadline which is approaching quickly or pursuing my actual life goals? What are my life goals. Hey, this show is pretty good. Maybe I’ll just eat some ice cream and watch this show.

Why is it 9am. There was an assignment I was supposed to do yesterday. Why are my clothes so tight. The air feels bad on my skin. My cheeks feel funny. I’m so itchy. My head is buzzing. Does that mean I’m sleepy or awake? Maybe I should take a nap just in case. I’m such a loser. I’m literally the worst. If I just got my life together, I wouldn’t be so miserable and people would like me. I hate myself so much. I’ve dug myself into a hole and I could get out if I were good enough. Maybe I’ll just play this mobile game for a little. And eat some instant noodles.

Why is it 5pm.

[bravevolunteer]

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒; 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋: fox... unsurprisingly— beyond using the mask as a scare tactic, foxy was genuinely his favorite animatronic ( and if i'm self-indulgent, couuulddd have been inspired by him, but- ) and he's always like the animal itself. was probably also that kid who thought wolves were cool as hell ngl HGFHDHG

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑: i don't even think he knows this but he'd like before the storm irises and bat flowers ( emo ass )

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓: firewood, gasoline, the air after it rains

𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄: he's not that picky honestly— will not hesitate to drink black if need be/he just cannot be bothered to do anything else, but he'll usually have it with a simple milk and sugar. will also sometimes just get straight up espresso shots.

𝐓𝐄𝐀: doesn't really drink tea, if he does he'd probably go for something spiced, like a cinnamon type. maybe with honey because it reminds him of what his mom would make when he got sick but that's embarrassing JHDFGHJKK

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊: ... he was probably an energy drink guy ESPECIALLY in his teens, okay battery acid

𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄: again, not picky— he can stomach pretty much anything: beers, shots, mixed drinks, whatever. he can sometimes be put off by the smell of whiskeys, but he can stomach it fine, with that said he was for sure a fireball guy lmao

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃: ... so i've already talked about how he doesn't have the BEST diet, it's a good day if he cooks himself a real meal period. definitely gets a lot of takeout, but also he's content if he makes himself a good sandwich... any meals that remind him of better times when he was a kid is when he has a preference for homecooked

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓: ... this might be more of a snack but of course my instinct is to say popcorn. it's a comfort after horrible shifts when he can still eat okay HGFKGF he's also a cookie guy i think, cupcakes and ice cream Not Allowed

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: when he's younger? for sure his stupid "tank tops" aka shirts with the sleeves he cut off himself— he thought he looked cool. into adulthood he does keep a leather jacket that he really likes. bonus: he ALSO likes his piercings and a couple rings as accessories

𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: left handed, tried to train himself to be ambidextrous as a kid because he got frustrated over smudging paper and failed ( pov william, probably Could teach himself if he hasn't already, finds this really funny )

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: mostly neat! it's not perfect or anything and can be a little scrawly but it's very readable

𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄: messy... always had a pretty messy room as a kid / teenager, and while he DOES try to put some effort in occasionally.... he is depressed AND lives alone ( in complete isolation post scooping ), he doesn't really have much motivating him to keep his place clean. if he's living with someone, he will try more, but old habits die hard

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: the thing about this is it's assuming he has a schedule like a normal person LMAO— he does struggle with the drive to do so making that already the first factor to handle. when he doesn't work night shifts, he'd usually shower at night. when he does, his regular system will be get home, either pass out or Sit And Deal With That, and THEN shower bc ew gross yucky restaurant.... so that would make it more like afternoon i guess!

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄: quality time and acts of service— he is so prone to isolation and self sabotage that allowing himself to spend that meaningful time with someone is not only what he needs and won't let himself have, but a display of how much he cares for that person. michael's never been good at verbal communication, so he will tend to show his love through actions: doing things for others, defending/protecting them, helping instead of hurting. as for receiving? of course all options good but he is especially deprived of words of affirmation and physical touch ( though this very much hinges on comfort levels )

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: no— he has with struggled concepts related to fate and inherent qualities, but that's more in the personal sense, he's not interested in the idea of love at first sight. has everything to do with the fact that the idea of someone seeing the worst parts of him and loving him anyway appeals to him.

TAGGED BY: @moondevours TAGGING: steal from me i am so tired

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

i wonder how exactly do people manage to get diagnosis? i'm suspecting i might have high-functioning depression, because in the past month all i do is sleep and eat and not shower for... days. i only shower when i feel very greasy. changing into proper clothes feels like a bother, so i never went out to get food, and rely on online delivery instead. seeing how much money i wasted bc i get deliveries instead of walking to food stalls is kinda alarming, but i'm aware that the other alternative is me not even eating at all. i only go to my campus like... 3x a week? i can manage to appear normal and feel a bit normal when with my friends, but my thesis is also pretty stressful. idk what i'm trying to convey but basically at campus i appear normal (except maybe my slow progress at thesis), but when i'm back at my dorms i become this... very passive person.

i'm seeing a therapist, mainly bc back when my thesis first started, i got so overwhelmed i had passive suicidal thoughts. but i find myself not being able to be honest abt the extent of my struggles. i'm very embarrassed to admit that i've been having difficulty with hygiene. my therapist gives off a mom vibe, so i think i'm scared to be judged for my lack of hygiene... not showering for days, not even changing my clothes or underwear, not brushing my teeth, not cleaning my living space and letting ants surround leftover food... so i always made myself presentable during session. idk, seeing as the session is in-person, i dont think she'd take it well if she know someone who didnt bathe for days entered her clean room. but me pretending that everything is okay makes her think im just having normal thesis struggles, which sucks. but im also scared to be honest abt my hygiene issues.

another thing is my social anxiety. its actually so bad that i cant go out of my dorm room without making sure there arent anyone outside. im not acquainted with anyone in the dorm, i dont even know their names or how they look. but im also scared to tell my therapist abt this??? im scared she will tell me to make friends to overcome my anxiety??? which is scary??? i feel self conscious bc what if someone has been paying attention to how i barely ever leave my room or that they never hear any showering sounds from me??? idk its scary. im pretty sure i have social anxiety, but my therapist has managed to make me open up and im not super quiet during sessions and can behave mostly like myself so i unconsciously put on a mask that always makes me be in denial abt my issues (in this case, pretending i have proper social skills, instead of admittinh i shrivel in fear when put in new social situations)

my thesis is also very much in bad state but instead of telling my therapist that my advisor thinks i havent been taking the thesis seriously (which hurts, bc i do worry abt its progress, even if it looks like im not making proper progress), i tell her that my worries arent proportional to the reality (bc my catastrophizing mind thought i would need to redo everything, while the reality is i only got told to make changes).

tldr im scared to be honest to my therapist bc of internalized shame and all that, even tho thats the reason i decided to pursue therapy? but also its scaryyy. esp the hygiene part. ppl around me are the clean types who hates messy stuff so i think it exacerbates the shame. esp bc i dont just have a messy room, but also havent been showering for days

Hi anon,

First of all I'm sorry to hear that you're struggling. Please know you're not alone. I admit that I also struggle with hygiene in a very similar way as well as consistently eating takeout, and I have diagnosed depression. It sounds like you have some big and intimidating responsibilities right now, and that's perhaps feeding into your depressive symptoms. You feel overwhelmed, misunderstood, and lost.

I understand the resistance to open up to your therapist about things that you have internalized shame about. Please just know that one of the main purposes of a therapist is to not make you feel judged or ridiculed, and any therapist who does do this doesn't deserve their position because it's damaging to a client. That is the last thing you need right now.

I can definitely relate to feeling judged by your therapist solely out of internalized shame alone and not any sort of cues on their end. In my experience, every time I did decide to open up about the thing I was ashamed about, it always ended up going much better than I anticipated. That being said, if you are picking up on cues from your therapist that makes you feel like she would judge you for opening up about this, then this therapist may not be a good fit for you. You deserve a therapist that doesn't make you feel judged.

I recognize that it can be an intimidating hurdle to decide to talk about these uncomfortable subjects with your therapist. But please consider that once you do choose to talk about it, your therapist can give you tools and direction to figure out how to manage both your depression and your social anxiety. Ultimately, it's important to take your time with this - don't feel pressured necessarily into opening up to your therapist, do so when you feel ready, but just consider the fact that you deserve help.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[ashleysmessyjourney]

Two Weeks

Hey everyone!

I think it would be best to provide updates like this here and there detailing my descent into messing myself 24/7. It’s been just over two weeks and I haven’t touched the toilet for anything; I even shut off the water supply to it earlier this week! I don’t even use it to flush my poo down it. I just leave it in the diaper, tie it all up in a bag, then I take out the trash every night.

I haven’t had another one of those stomach aches that made me fill my diaper like last week, a fact that I’m really grateful for. Sitting in poo for that long wasn’t fun, but it was better than the alternative of trying my hardest to painfully hold it all in until I got home.

When I feel that familiar pressure in my bowels, instead of getting up to go use the potty like an adult, I’ve been either squatting down next to my bed or I settle down onto my legs, giving the back of my diaper enough room to expand. I do this on top of a disposable bedwetting underpad in case of leakage, too. Once I do the deed, I change immediately because standing up or sitting down just spreads the mess around; I did that a couple of times in the beginning of this challenge and it made cleanup take a lot longer. Messing myself squatting down makes cleanup so much easier when I can just untape my diaper and clean myself with wipes. I figured that I’m already going to wipe myself clean regardless of where my poop goes, after all.

The monthly usage, and in turn cost, of diapers has gone up because I’m obviously using more diapers. Ideally, I’d like to fully saturate my diaper before I use it for its other intended purpose, but that’s just not how the real world works. I’ve been messing my diapers before my morning showers, too, so cleaning up isn’t that hard especially when I have a shower to take. My day usually starts with me waking up in my normally soggy diaper. I wipe myself clean and change into another diaper to help me make it through breakfast, and I usually end up messing this diaper a little bit after I’m done eating. I take my shower and then change into my normal daytime diaper and go about my day as I normally would.

At the time of me writing this update, my messy diaper timer expires on October 23rd which is 86 days away, one week shy of Halloween. I had a feeling I’d get a little bit of time put on my timer, ya know, like maybe a couple of weeks, but almost three months?! It sounds like a lot and it feels like a lot, but I’m just taking it all one day at a time because it makes it easy on me. Thinking about messing myself for almost three full months just feels a bit overwhelming. The more I think about it, the more I question my dedication to this challenge, so I just stop thinking about it and just enjoy the positives of this exercise.

Adapting to messing 24/7 was a little hard at first but it’s getting easier. I had thought about changing into another cheaper diaper like a Tranquility ATN or something of similar quality to mess and then after cleaning myself, I would put my main diaper back on, but after some thought, I came to the conclusion that some people might consider that as cheating. I also need absolute protection when I do the deed, and I don’t really have that much faith in the ATNs compared to my regular diapers that have those awesome tall leak guards, so I feel most comfortable doing it in my regular diapers.

My health has been my number one concern doing this challenge. Poop contains a lot of bacteria, and since women have shorter urethras than men, we have a much higher chance of getting bladder infections and UTIs. If you’ve read my updated training guide, then you would know that I’ve already had to deal with a bladder infection a while ago. That’s part of the reason that I’ve been changing immediately after doing the deed; the other part is me being concerned about my skin’s health. It’s super hot and humid where I live, so staying cool, dry, and most importantly, clean down there is of the utmost importance.

Overall, I’m enjoying it a little more and more each day. I have an overwhelming feeling that I’m going to be stuck doing this for a lot longer than three months as each and every little thing sent to me from my wishlist will now add time onto the messy diaper timer, so I might as well get used to it, right?

Thanks for reading! <3

[horseshoe-bay-ledger]

Bleeding Hearts — X

Part 10: The Quietness of Moments

(Part 9 | The Whole Thing)

Nancy found herself the next day once again standing outside Ace’s apartment.

She didn’t let herself in this time, instead she raised her hand but hesitated. It was later in the day than she would have liked. She had slept well past noon and had a long conversation with her dads after that.

The delay had her restless.

She’d had too much time to think.

Just knock, she told herself. It’s just Ace.

That was the problem: it was just Ace.

She was being ridiculous, so she wrapped her knuckles on the door and waited. In what felt like no time the door swung open, revealing Ace.

“Nancy,” he said, not surprised but breathless. His hair messy for some reason, sticking up in weird ways.

He ran his hands through it quickly to fix it.

He had tried to cover it up, but she saw the sleeves of his lucky blue shirt peeking out from underneath his, clearly hastily thrown on, sweater as he did.

“Hey,” she said slowly, “can we talk?”

Ace didn’t say anything, just nodded and stepped aside to clear her path into the apartment.

And she did what her counterpart had failed to do: she crossed the threshold.

She’d only been here once—in reality—but it all looked familiar.

She made it into the middle of the room before taking a deep breath and pivoting. The smell of lemon-scented spray filled her nostrils and the first thing she said surprised even her.

“Have you been cleaning?” she asked stupidly. She had not come here to talk about Ace’s housekeeping habits.

Ace lifted his shoulder and inclined his head towards it in a sort of shrug. He still hadn’t said anything but her name.

“I’ve heard it’s what responsible adults do,” he said a beat too late.

“Huh,” she said, nodding. “Good to know.”

“How are you feeling?”

Ace had asked like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to know—that he would be content with just the answer to that and nothing else.

“I’m okay,” she replied. “Better now for sure.”

Ace gave her the small smile, the one where he shuts his eyes in sync with it.

She loved every different version of his smile.

Every single one. She had missed them all desperately.

Lulled into the comfort of a normal conversation with Ace with no curse lingering over her head she asked him another question. This time it wasn’t something so frivolous.

“How did you know,” she asked, “that it was me here, the other week?”

It had been gnawing at her. He had been so sure that it was her. Was it because she was cruel enough to break his heart? Was it something else? She needed to know either way.

“Because it felt like you,” he answered calmly. “It didn’t… I didn’t feel the same with her. Not really. Also it was before the full moon but I would’ve known anyway.”

They stared at each other for a moment saying nothing.

Ace hadn’t strayed far from the door. In reality it was only a few metres of space between them but it felt like the Grand Canyon laid out in front of her. She steeled herself and took the leap anyway.

“You were right,” she exhaled. And as soon as she had said that everything came else tumbling out.

“That day, you had everything right. I felt—feel—so strongly about you, Ace. So str…” she trailed off. “But I was afraid to tell you that. Because there was something to be afraid of. Losing you. I couldn’t watch you die, not again. And, I, I—”

“Again?” Ace asked confused, “Nancy, what—“

“Temperance,” Nancy replied, trying to explain herself without rambling incoherently. This had been building in her for weeks. “Temperance gave me a choice that night at the Veil between saving the town and acting on my feelings—being with you. Gave me a whole dreamscape-like scenario in real time laying it out for me in graphic detail. That’s why I hesitated that night, I lived out an entire month in less than a second. I thought it was all real. I watched Ryan die, and then you die. Temperance told me that all of it would all come to pass if I chose to kill her. With her dying breath she made sure that if I ever acted on my feelings for you, you’d die.”

Ace’s expression eased, like she was just confirming something he already knew but he had needed to hear from her.

She felt the tears welling in her eyes but she couldn’t stop now. He let her continue uninterrupted which she appreciated. After this long the truth was cathartic.

“If I let her live I could be with you. But I couldn’t let her do it, she would’ve destroyed the whole town. I couldn’t afford my own happiness, Ace, you saw wh—it was at too great a cost. But it meant I had to give up you, and that nearly took all of me. You were the first person I wanted to talk to but I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t know what the parameters were, and I didn’t want to risk your life. I couldn’t risk your life. Temperance knew that.”

Nancy let out a dry laugh without any humour in it.

“That’s why her plan almost worked,” she continued.  “You were—are—my blind spot; it was you I couldn’t give up. So I had to push you away even though it killed me to do it. But now, now…”

Nancy tried to finish but it seemed like she had run out of breath. Bess surely would’ve told him already.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Ace finished for her, simply.

That was it, plain as day. Finally true.

Nancy let out a breath and nodded.

Ace walked across the room slowly but he was in her space very quickly.

It was only a few metres after all.

He took her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers.

She let herself surrender to the moment. She kissed him back.

The barometer didn’t break. Nothing did.

Everything about the kiss felt right; it was hard-fought but easy.

It was relief, and love, and elation, and assurance all tangled up together.  It was perfect, it was imperfect—it was real. Most of all, it was theirs and theirs alone and it belonged to both of them at long last.

When they, unfortunately, had to pull away for air she kept her forehead rested on his, one hand in his hair, the other clutching at his shirt just in case he’d pull away. 

He was never going to pull away.

Nancy let the silence breathe into the moment and she took her own first easy breath in a long time. Something within her settled.

He gave her another fleeting kiss like he just couldn’t help it and Nancy all but fell into it, embarrassingly chasing his lips even as his momentum took him backward.

With that short span of space, however, some of her concerns came bubbling to the surface.

“Temperance will have… other contingencies,” she said.

He nodded, acknowledging.

“And we’ll figure them out too,” Ace said, simply. “Stop them together.”

Nancy had missed him. Really, truly, desperately, achingly missed him. He hadn’t ever left her side but she could fully embrace it again and that meant the entire damn world to her.

He must have seen it in her eyes because he kissed her again, deeper this time.

He was always very good at communicating without words.

Although they had to break apart again pretty soon because he started smiling too much that he could barely kiss her—his ‘cool’ moves really letting him down. He tried to compensate for this by tucking her hair behind her ear for her, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek.

She smiled back at him, so freely, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. She never thought she’d get to feel this way in this reality.

Her fate felt like it was her own again and her energy was humming within her with its re-found momentum.

She knocked her forehead gently onto his and asked him the question she had been dying to for some time.

“Want to help me find some missing bodies?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he replied, pulling her closer again. “But… they can wait.”

Everything could—all the somethings bigger. The unexplained fail-safe in Temperance’s curse, her plans to return, the missing bodies, the torn tarot cards in her desk at Icarus Hall, whatever was going on with Ryan that he thought she hadn’t noticed. Everything.

Everything could wait for as long as this moment lasted.

[godlyaffection]

From The Moment I Saw You | Part 2

Source Material; Original Writing

Warnings; None

Summary; We are introduced to a group of adventures who have been summoned to the palace by the kings. It is unknown exactly why these adventures were summoned, but they will soon find out from the kings themselves.

A/n; part one can be found here ! this is just a fun little story that i enjoy writing, it’s a slow story but it’s just nice to talk about characters and write in this style. like it’s still very my writing but it’s kinda different to how i normally write

The sound of feet meeting with cobblestone was all that was heard as a group of adventures were escorted into the palace. The group of adventures were certainly a mismatched group. 

Amongst the three of them there was a large orc man, standing taller and much bigger than anyone else around. He had a strong stature and was dressed mostly in brown. He had a top that covered little of his large frame, draping over his torso but leaving some of his sides and arms completely exposed. Brown pants and tall boots covered his legs, and around his waist was a belt that had an ax strapped to it. His black hair was short and messy atop his head, and he certainly seemed to be the most relaxed out of the three adventurers. 

There was also a human woman. She was shorter than the orc man, but compared to most people this woman would also be quite tall. She wore armor, but not the kind that the guards of the palace wore, this armor was much more worn and pieced together almost as if she had picked each piece up randomly over time. She had medium, brown, hair that was pinned out of her face. And she carried a large staff that she was currently using as a walking stick. 

Finally there was a very short man, he looked to be about the same age as the woman, but the top of his head barely came up to the woman's waist. His hair was long and bright red, and he had it pulled up and back. The man had facial hair that matched the color of the hair on his head, his facial hair was kept clean and short, but it was definitely more impressive than any of the elves in this kingdom could grow. His clothing was very casual, in mostly shades of gray. However, he had a green shawl wrapped around his shoulders. He carried something that could only be described as a hammer. It was much larger than any normal hammar, and it looked much too heavy for anyone to carry for very long, but the small man didn’t seem to struggle much. 

The two guards escorting the adventurers were both elfs. They wore the crest of the royal family on their armor. The two guards were quiet, very professional, and more than a little intimidating. At least they would be intimidating to any other group they could be escorting into the palace. The current group barely seemed to pay attention to the guards and instead were taking in everything they were seeing in the palace. 

The halls of the palace were clean and excellently decorated. A plethora of other staff of the palace walked the halls, doing various duties and tasks that needed to be done at the start of the day. Occasionally the staff would nod at the adventurers or just look at them curiously, but most of them kept to themselves and focused on their duties. 

The group of adventurers made it to where they were going to meet with the kings. A large room that was created with the sole purpose of holding meetings. It was a room that was normally used to hold meetings between the kings and royals from other regions, occasionally diplomats and very rarely any adventurer or any member the kings needed for a job. It was uncommon for the kings to need any jobs done that couldn’t be done by their current staff. They had a plethora of knights to slay any beast or carry out any law that they needed, they had plenty of cooks and maids to make food and keep the palace cleen. But under the circumstances that the kingdom was currently facing, the kings thought it best to get an outsider to do it. 

Of course the adventurers had no idea what the kings were to be asking of them. They had simply been summoned to the palace for a meeting with the kings, and not many people dared to turn down the kings when they summoned you. 

The adventurers waited in the meeting room for what seemed like ages. Walls of paintings and maps could only entertain for so long. But the adventurers did not complain, they did not squirm, no matter how unbearable it felt to wait. They sat silently, finding nothing of interest to talk about, especially with the possibility of the kings, their son, or even simply their staff was capable of overhearing them. 

Finally, the wait came to an end when the large doors to the meeting room opened. The adventurers, along with the guards that had been waiting with them, stood to their feet, politely greeting the royals who entered the room. 

Two guards entered first, followed by both of the kings. Behind them were more people, who the adventurers assumed were more guards, but all of their frames were blocked by the kings. They weren't the tallest of men, but their presence was larger than anyone the adventurers had met before. Both men carried themselves differently, but they both held themselves in a royal way, commanding respect and holding themselves as importantly as they could. 

“Thank you all for meeting with us.”

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Twenty - Big City Girl

So, this is it, they’re leaving.

Today is the day I haven’t been looking forward to at all. But well, you know what they say. “Even the best journeys end, but a new one is right around the coroner”. But what if I don’t want to know that corner. What if I won't make it alone? I know I am thinking way too much about something that hasn’t even happened yet but, well, overthinking I guess. When I got up I noticed Jesse still sleeping next to me. Usually they are a morning person but once they consume alcohol all they really do is just sleep in way too long. Lucia already got up, but not only that, she also made her “bed” and cleaned up after her. The only trace from her in my room is that massive boa and the sparkling outfit she wore yesterday. 

I’ve reached for my phone, nothing. I glanced at Jesse and thought about waking them up but, I want to give them some rest. I looked at their phone which displate an alarm to go off in half an hour anyway. At least that way we still have some time before they leave at one pm. I grabbed my jumper and walked down the hallway into Sarah's kitchen. No sight of Sarah, only Lucia standing there in what I think are Jesse's clothes. To be exact, it was an olive green hooded jumper and some oversized pale shorts. I do have to say, those colours work well with her orange kind of copper coloured hair. Speaking of, her hair was in the biggest messy bun I’ve ever seen. She has no makeup on, besides some lipstick but I think she just forgot to remove it last night. I walked into the kitchen and swung up the counter while Lucia was randomly walking around in circles.  

James: Mornin. Lucia: Hi, hope you don’t mind me taking your clothes, won't you? James: Heh, those aren't mine so feel free to. Lucia: Well I assume Jesse wouldn’t mind either. James: Fair. Have you seen Sarah? Lucia: Oh yeah, she's right over the street at an Ambers. Think she wanted to get some buns for breaki. James: What’s an Ambers? And breaki? Really? How can you be that smart and hot and then say breaki instead of breakfast, like normal people. Lucia: Ugh normal people suck James. Hand me the shades, my eyes are burning.

Lucia: Thanks. Oh yeah Ambers. I am not sure but for what I know it's a mix between a baker's stop, a post office and some say even some mafia stuff. James: Mafia stuff? Like what? Lucia: I don’t know. The only thing I know is that they are constantly opening new shops throughout the UK. James: Perks of a big city girl? Lucia: Fuck off. Coffee? James: Yeah, thanks. 

 Couple of minutes later I got a call from Sarah, explaining that she is randomly having brunch with her friends over at the elderly place. Guess it’s just us then. Lucia and I were robbing the kitchen for anything nice to eat for breakfast. She decided to make some grilled cheese while I prepared the rest of the food. Only moments after the first grilled cheese was ready, I noticed Jesse standing in the door without any clothes besides their shorts. They grabbed a glass of orange juice I just filled myself, walked into the kitchen, grabbed the grilled cheese off of Lucias hand and leaned themself into Sarah’s armchair. 

James: Good morning to you too my belove- Jesse: five minutes, okay? Thank you.

Lucia and I just stared at Jesse devouring the grilled cheese within seconds. Good to know that at least that hasn’t changed. Don’t worry, that’s not how Jesse is usually. This is just the hungover version.

Lucia: Bro how much did you drink? I thought we had equally? Jesse: Honestly, I don’t know. I haven’t…whatever… but I had shots. That’s all I know. Lucia: Wait so whenever you got a new round you also got a shot Jesse: I’m fine. James: Yeah I can see that. Jesse: Why are you wearing my jumper? Lucia: Because? Jesse: Ugh fine. James: Come on big guy. Let#s have some breakfast before Lucia has to go. Lucia: Honestly, I already got a call. A friend of mine is going to pick me up soon. I'm just gonna change and have some food for the way. James: Oh okay. Jesse: So I can have my jumper back now? Lucia: Sure!

Lucia stopped in the middle of the room, getting off the jumper, and threw it right into Jesse's face. Couple of seconds later the pants were there too. She flipped us off in a joking way and went up stairs. Still can’t believe she’s this year's best at medical studies in University but well. Jesse grabbed the clothes off of them and threw them onto the chair before checking out what’s there for breakfast, when they noticed, it wasn’t much. They started making some eggs and toast for us served with something I have yet to find out. 

Meanwhile, Lucia was down again, fully dressed. She stood in the doorframe, wearing the outfit from yesterday and been sucking on a lollipop, her shades down since she’s hungover.

Lucia: Alright bitches, I got to move now. It has been a pleasure meeting you Jesse. And I had an awesome night. Get home safe kiddo.

She glanced towards Jesse and both of us got up to give her a hug. Seconds later she stepped outside into an Uber she called.

Jesse: *mumbles* She’s fun. James: Lucia? Yeah. Told you, she is just like you. Jesse: You were right with that. And hey, even though I ruined your surprise for me myself, it was still a surprise to get to know her. James: I’m just happy you two went along that well. Jesse: Haha.

We finished up breakfast and cleaned before heading upstairs. Ten in the morning. Jesse's train is about to go in two hours. Great. That is barely any time. Good thing I already got a gift for them. We just talked for a bit before getting everything ready. Unlike me, Jesse is rather chill when it comes to timing. They are relatively fast so that works really well in their favour. Both of us got ready and a couple of seconds later Jesse and I were on our way to the train station. We’ve decided to take the bike, meaning Jesse threw all their stuff on the bike and seated themself on the back while I was driving the bike. It’s fun since, well, that’s what we used to do back in the days when they still lived in Dover with me. About twenty minutes later we finally arrived at the train station.

James: What platform do you need to be? Jesse: Uhm, I think it’s four…yeah four James: alright

Both of us waited for the train to Windsor.

James: So…this is really it isn't it? Jesse: Oh my god James please don’t turn this into a breakup. James: It’s just, I missed you so much. The last days have been the best I had. All thanks to you. Jesse: It’s not thanks to me, it’s thanks to you. You showed yourself that you were able to accomplish all of that. Trust me. This place is doing you well. James: Well… Jesse: No, take it. James: Thanks. Oh I got this for you. Jesse: You didn’t need to give me anything, thanks. James: Please, and open it at home okay? Jesse: Sure bud. Oh, it looks like my train here. James: So…goodbye I guess? Jesse: It really is.

Both of us hugged each other really tight before letting Jesse go off into the train back home. I cried, Of course I did. This is as painful as a breakup. It always does when they leave me. I assume I never really got over the first time. It haunts me. 

I stepped outside the train station and got on my bike, time for a hike.

[stardust-static]

Does anyone else get enraged when they're cleaning sometimes? I hate cleaning, but I do it because my mind does not function right in a messy environment. I feel mentally much better when my environment is aesthetically pleasing.

Anyway.. something happens though where when I'm cleaning I become a resentful goblin. As I'm cleaning I just start thinking of all the shit my husband needs to also do. I just got so pissed about the random pots laying all around outside as I was rage cleaning. He's been gardening a lot, but he leaves random things strewn about all over the property. I told him to pick up after himself and he hasn't. It's really no big deal usually. A battle for another time I tell myself. Well that battle was today.. He bought a giant trellis to grow grapes on and left the box that it came in just sitting out. Normal me is fine with it. I saw that box as he was showing me the trellis and I thought "surely he will throw that box away. just give him gratitude right now for building this big thing. Don't complain." But yeah as I was cleaning I remembered that box and the fact that it's been two days and it's still out there. Along with a mess of other stuff from that project. Just chilling in our driveway. I marched into the living room where he was relaxing and said "HEY! First thing tomorrow morning you need to wake your ass up and go pick up all your shit outside. You have random things all over the place!" Its true.. but I don't know why I got so angry about it now that I'm laying down and calm again. It's a trait from my mom I think. Whenever she was cleaning she'd get so resentful and angry and be like WHY DOES NO ONE HELP ME????!!! and we'd be like "whoa.. just tell us what you want us to do and we'll help" and she'd tell us she shouldn't have to ask. Like I should just be scrubbing the floorboards for funsies. I have always tried my hardest to be the opposite of my parents. With peace and love to them... But yea. I always thought that was pretty crazy how mad she'd get to see us relaxing instead of just asking for help.

I'm pretty sure that's become me now... Not as bad. I'm gonna try to control these demons I've inherited though.