#also there’s only one in my town and those people rejected me for a job so i cannot go there ever lol

[fingertipsmp3]

I think one of my wisdom teeth is coming in and like. Can It Not

[peanutbutterwrites]

My Good Looking Boy - Part Four

warnings for series: angst, struggles with self worth and self esteem, issues with appearance, childhood trauma, and mentions of death and murder.

summary: taking place after the southern raiders, zuko and katara finally learn to understand each other a bit more and long held on to feelings come to the surface. the gaang go and watch the ember island play and chaos ensues with katara's feelings.

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

author's note: and here comes part four! this is where the story really starts to take a turn, so thank you to all your patience, here is zutara and where she finally starts to (maybe?) understand her feelings. part five might take me a bit longer, i lowkey ran out of motivation so I haven't started it yet, but hopefully not too long. as always, please let me know what you think and enjoy!

also thank you so much for all the notes and reblogs on this story, I really appreciate all of it! <3

word count: 2.1k

Katara made her way downstairs fully dressed and hair tied neatly into a half top-knot. Her red two piece consisted of a tight, cropped tank top with flowy and breathable pants she had managed to snag from the old clothes left here. It was clearly designed for the frame of a teenage boy, so Katara chose to ignore what or rather who they were made for in favor of just enjoying the freedom they allowed.

She knew it would be her job today to gather what was necessary to feed the group, along with multiple other things, so she wanted to get that particular job done as soon as possible. Over the last few days, the comments made about her in the play affected her less and less. Yes, she did talk a lot about hope, isn’t it important to have hope during such a difficult time? And yes of course she did the housework, who else would? Pushing aside what had been on her mind, the conversation with Aang, she grabbed the basket next to the entrance and dug through the makeshift wallet to see if she could afford to go into town today and continue to save. Zuko and Toph were only able to save so much money, and Katara absolutely refused to let the kids continue with scamming people; it had turned out rather horribly for them in the past. With her nose to the wallet, her visibility was severely impaired and she slammed into a rock hard surface. 

“Ow!” She yelped as she fell backwards, but she felt a hand grab her wrist and yank her back upright. 

“Oh, sorry.” Zuko murmured, still holding her wrist.

“S’ok.” She whispered right back, frozen in place. He noticed that he was still holding on to her and flushed as he slipped his hand behind himself. In doing so, he examined her full outfit and his flush turned into his full face overheating. He recognized those pants quite easily after all. 

“So, uh, where are you off to?” he choked out.

“Oh, well, the market. I think we have enough money to get some actual food.” 

“That’s good.” It was painfully awkward. They stood there, each shuffling in place debating on their next words. 

“You know-”

“I could-” They both began at the same time. 

“Uh, sorry, you go first.” Katara mumbled, looking anywhere but the boy in front of her while a light dusting of pink covered her cheeks.

“I was just thinking, I’m done training Aang for today. I could come with you.” Opening her mouth, rejection her go-to response, she closed it, opting to think for a moment instead. 

“You know what, why not.” She half-smiled up to him and he let his own hesitant smile crawl its way up. Walking side-by side they made their way down the dirt path towards the day market that was no doubt in full swing by now.  “About the other night,” she began, “I never got to thank you. I’m sorry you had to see that but, uh, thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me, Katara. I told you before, I’ll always be there for you. No matter how big or small the issue is.”  She smiled softly at him.

“And I’m sorry for assuming your childhood was, well, privileged.”

“I mean you’re partially right. I never had to worry about food or clothing, nothing money could buy anyway.” 

“So then what was it? What put the idea in your head that you’re worthless Zuko.” Silence fell over them and the only sound noticeable was the crunch of the dirt and gravel beneath them as they continued to the village. “Oh, I’m sorry. I overstepped, didn't I?”

“No, you didn’t. It’s just hard to talk about. I don’t like to talk about it either.” Katara nodded in understanding and gently grasped his right hand in her left. Zuko dropped his eyes to look into hers, shocked she was finally accepting him and willing to listen. It was the first time he didn’t feel pity or condensation in someone’s gaze when this topic came around.

“Well, I’m here for you too, you know.” Silence. After a few minutes walking, he began.

“I spoke out of turn.” She turned to him and squeezed his hand as they kept walking to give him support. Tilting her head to the side, she made it clear she was listening. “A statesman, one with many years of service and honor, wanted to use a young squadron as a decoy. He wanted to sentence them all to death just so we would get the advantage in a battle with a surprise attack. I argued against it. I was only thirteen at the time, but it seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do, to speak for those boys who were unable to speak for themselves. But in speaking out of turn, I disrespected him, threatened him. He challenged me to an Agni Kai to learn respect.” 

“An Agni Kai? You’ve mentioned that before.” 

“Yes, it’s a battle between two firebenders. It’s meant to be life or death.” Katara tensed as anger began to rise in her.

“But you were so young.” 

“It didn’t matter to him. I insulted his place of authority, so foolishly I agreed. I knew I could beat an old statesman so it didn't bother me.” He gripped Katara's hand harder as he continued. “But it wasn't him I had to fight in the Agni Kai. When I turned it was my father.” Katara’s breath hitched in horror. “He claimed by arguing in his war meeting I disrespected him more than the statesman.” He softly shook his head as he continued, “I refused to fight him, he thought that I was weak, a coward. So he gave me this.” He looked at her in the eyes and her own widened in horror. Her teeth ground as Katara felt rage like she’s never felt before. White, hot, outrage. The fact that Zuko had been burned was something she could make her peace with, everyone had their scars, visible or otherwise. But for a parent to do that to their child? She wanted to scream out in anger, to march into the palace at this moment and kill that man. But she knew Zuko didn’t need that right now, she knew he would only end up comforting her instead. 

“I, I’m so sorry, Zuko. I never imagined.”

“I know, it's okay.” They began walking again in silence, but Katara’s hand never left his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t heal it, I don’t have the spirit water anymore otherwise I wouldn’t hesitate.” He hummed softly and rubbed his thumb over the top of hand. 

“It's fine Katara, it wouldn’t fix anything. Just make me a little more easy on the eyes.” Katara stopped in the dirt road and Zuko only paused when he felt her hand leave his. “What’s wrong?” He frowned, turning to look back at her.

“You, don’t think you’re attractive?” He flushed in embarrassment and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

“Well I mean, isn’t it obvious?” He left out a humorless laugh. 

“I think you’re beautiful, Zuko.” It was just a whisper, but to him it felt like so much more. She was looking him dead in the eye, no hint of embarrassment or lie. He felt himself stop breathing. Not bearable, decent, hot, but beautiful. She thought he was beautiful. And for some reason this word shook him. His gut flipped nervously and he had to swallow down his tears that threatened to unleash at any moment. 

“Well, thank you. Katara.” He said, his eyes still piercing into hers that kept their intensity. She simply nodded and gathered his hand back into hers as they continued their walk into town. 

They were able to haul a decent amount of food back, as surprisingly Zuko was pretty good at haggling with the older merchants who ran the stalls of the day market. Even after such a heavy topic, Katara found herself watching him with pride. His ability to live and forgive, to be kind after suffering such horrific actions against him made her eyes twinkle with emotion. He carried the heavy basket all the way back and offered to help her with the cooking as well. 

“I think you are officially the most helpful member of the group, Zuko. Thank you!” Katara spoke cheerfully as they boundered into the entrance of the summer home. Zuko smiled after her and gave a small chuckle. 

“I think that’s my favorite title I’ve earned yet.” He put the woven basket down in the kitchen, he began unloading their haul into their proper places as Katara let out a breathy laugh and went to gather the new laundry. Thankfully, the rather large fountain on the property made it easy to wash all the clothes. The next thing she knew she was bending water into the dirty clothing and Zuko was bringing out the tea set the house had been equipped with. He placed the pot out on the edge of the fountain and began brewing her tea as Sokka and Suki came down from their bedroom. 

“Good morning! I guess you guys went to the market huh? Couldn’t find you anywhere.” Suki mentioned and Katara nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, and Aang’s lesson with Toph should be over soon so I thought some tea would be nice.”

“I’m sure your hot leaf water will be greatly appreciated, Zuko.” Sokka teased and Katara frowned.

“You do realize he has helped more today than you’ve in the past two weeks, Sokka.” Sokka froze and Suki let out a loud and exuberant laugh.

“Since when are you defending him?!” He said with a high-pitched voice crack and Katara had to fight with herself to stop from laughing outright.

“I’m not defending him, it's just the truth Sokka! And even if I was, it doesn’t matter.” Sokka’s mouth dropped in shock. 

“I think she’s right, you guys really need to help out more. She’s always doing all the housework.” Suki mentioned as she took a small cup of piping hot tea from Zuko. Sokka let out multiple gargled and disgruntled sounds with a small “you don’t help either Suki!” while she yanked him down to sit and hushed him. 

“Oh hey sugar queen, sparky.” Toph joked as she and Aang returned from their earthbending practice. 

“Oh tea! Thanks Zuko!” Aang cheered, after a long morning of practice he must be exhausted and grateful for the break.

“Here, Aang.” Katara reached over to grab some bread she had been able to get at the market. “Relax and keep your strength up, we still have our lesson.” she smiled down at him and his apprehensive smile brightened quickly. Katara knew she couldn’t let personal issues get in the way of her teaching Aang, the world being at stake was of far greater importance than her confusing feelings. Zuko took a seat next to her and handed her a cup of tea, to which she smiled warmly at him and thanked him for.

“No seriously Katara, did something happen? Cause I swear, even after your guys’ trip you weren’t this buddy-buddy.” Sokka finished with Suki elbowing him in the side and him huffing out an exasperated “what?” to her. Zuko tensed up, his grip on his tea strained and contemplated grabbing Katara right then and there to stop her from saying anything. But she made her decision before he could.

“Oh be quiet, Sokka. We aren’t ‘buddy-buddy’, and nothing happened. Gosh, would you give it a rest?” She huffed and crossed her arms in an irritated fashion. Zuko visibly relaxed and took a long sip of his tea, shooting Katara a grateful smile. She knew he would tell the others in his own time and resolved to let it happen naturally versus forcing him to have that conversation right now. 

“Karara!” Aaang, called out after gulping down most of his tea. She perked up at his voice, “Let’s start training now.” He smiled and she nodded in response, promising she’ll be back in time to cook dinner.

[pentition]

To be on the safe side... Spoilers:

I feel like the antagonists of this game were always clear to me (personally) just due to the lack of content given to them. Yeah, it was enough for players to determine whether or not they liked a character but in terms of missions and interactions I feel like there's a bare minimum. And because of that, it made it more obvious to me who the antagonists were set up to be.

Mayor Gale in Portia had some neat missions and interactions that made things more personal during your character's residency there. Mayor Trudy doesn't arrive in Sandrock until later, and while I can only recount one side mission I do also recount little interactions and commentary she made. Whereas with Minister Matilda, she only existed in the context of the main story missions for the most part. There was a detachment to become personal which contrasted her friendly demeanor.

I feel like with Matilda, it's a little easier to overlook her compared to the others initially. Minister of the Church means the way she carries herself is kind of to be expected. Especially for those who played Portia and when put beside Miguel - this reserved, friendly enough but still an authority figure demeanor is a given. It always felt strange to me that there wasn't much personalizing going on but it wasn't until Trudy returned to head Sandrock that the vibe I was getting became clearer. The way Matilda behaves towards Trudy is very condescending. Often being friendly and using a friendly voice even when her words aren't matching up. Or even her actions (being the face of Sandrock instead of Trudy).

We see more of a tonal shift of Matilda keeping her control over Sandrock and its citizens. Don't get me wrong, I understand why it can look like it's just people having connected to Matilda in Trudy's absence. They got used to the firm but kind all the same hand. And the mayor, by comparison, is so much gentler and less assertive to regain people's attention immediately.

With Miguel and Pen I just had red flags because people generated a decent amount of interest in them both I feel like, yet each update wasn't really adding much to them. They may not have been as popular as some other candidates, but even before Logan was announced they were still pulling at a decent level for interest from the players. And seeing that we got nothing time and time again it made me think of Portia once more - with Aadit.

Sandrock did a better job integrating these characters into the town, whereas with Aadit he kind of fell into the background and then faded out of even that. Which, for his character, made sense but from a gameplay perspective was a mistake I think. Unfortunately, the feeling betrayed by Miguel and especially Pen for me doesn't really stem too much from their actions. I more feel betrayed Pathea didn't commit more attention to them. If you want that betrayal, more missions and interactions should have been there. More diving into the characters. Hell, even more possible outcomes for them.

They do well in some instances, like with Unsuur, and his crush on the builder. How that comes up in interactions before you accept or reject his interest. Things woven in so nicely to determine the flow of a relationship and what it will be.

It feels like with Miguel, it's especially a missed opportunity. There's a lot in that fella that could be shared or conveyed in interesting ways. Mind you, I did a full restart of my game after the full release so I'm only going off tidbits of info I've seen cropping up on him post the Sandrock takeover. But even before then, in the lead up or during his imprisonment and realization of his actual role for Duvos, I feel like there's a loss of character development. Or... an expansion on what's already there so we can understand him more and see him in a more honest light.

With Pen I feel like there was potential whether he turned out to be good (what a twist!) but even also if he (likely) was going to be one of the bad guys. It makes sense for Miguel's perspective to view what they are doing as protecting Sandrock. He believes they are choosing a lesser evil, to some extent. But for Pen, it's interesting, he's the Protector of Sandrock but is also a man who loves violence. It feels like a missed opportunity to not have had him playing that up in missions or in the background more. And in doing so, earned more trust. Whereas him appearing as all talk makes him more suspicious. It calls into question his competence and morality early on. It's not like Pen hides when he doesn't given a shit about something but the comedic poor excuses or blatant disregard makes him look incompetent in the story. Whereas, if you hangout with him and take him on a stroll outside of town, you'll see how quickly he executes monsters. So we know he's not lacking in competence then when it comes to battle, so then it just instills it's a morality thing that he isn't rushing to play hero.

Which, to an extent, is definitely believable. Maybe if he was in the background trying to intercept Logan and we got more insight to that it would make more sense. As it stands, he really is just a lazy cat that gets up only when he wants to. For someone so violent and an outright bully, he doesn't actually do much beyond verbal stuff.

Pen also makes it apparent he isn't one to be ordered around. He humors Miguel and seems to only listen to Matilda on the more serious missions. But even that could be liable to change if he felt like it, I think. It makes me wonder if his loyalty to Duvos is because he can get the most fighting done via being on their side. Or, if the rumors are true and he was an experiment, if his loyalty stems from a soldier mentality. But that has me calling into question how loyal he'll be in the long run when he's so self-centered. Unless Duvos is providing his bloodthirst and other needs well, I could see him not having a reason to leave.

...Except, it would be nice to have that option, wouldn't it? I feel like Sandrock provided the perfect opportunity for it. If not in the main story of the game, then a possible DLC would be interesting. Let him have gained friendship and shoved it aside for loyalty to Duvos. Let him have played it off as no big deal to him when really, in the silence alone and imprisoned, he begins to feel the weight of it.

For the main game story, I could see him sticking to Duvos through the town takeover and even in his boss fight. If we're talking Pathea silliness, what if the mirror jogged his memory on how the builder made him that mirror and then helped free him from it? And how Burgess helped, too and then his epiphany to be kinder to him that he poorly fulfilled. Memories and emotions can work like a chain reaction, especially when instilled into a person who clearly hasn't known genuine friendship. He could have came around in the Matilda fight and space punched her up there, a prime opportunity. Then been taken in for questioning.

We have the builder put into the positioning of giving character statements to others in the game. Maybe the option to have Pen serve his sentence in Sandrock and actually get hands on in making it better after what he did would have been fitting? Portia allowed Tody to stay despite his actions - which, sure, are lesser than a Duvos invasion but were also still very damning.

If we're talking DLC potentials, why not have Pen break out and escape into the desert. Word comes back to Sandrock and the builder is the one to find him.

There is a lot of potential with integrating Miguel and Pen into Sandrock more without it changing Pathea's formula of storytelling and how they do missions and interactions. Also I'd potentially add Matilda to this but she's coasting in space last I recall, lmao. But her backstory interests me enough to want to have a dialogue about it in game.

Anyways, there are so many tidbits in the game that could really pave the way for such developments. I hope maybe future DLC will expand on them because I just like the idea of Miguel having a redemption arc and learning beyond his beliefs. Pen becoming compromised because he's in an environment that isn't Duvos and it's healthier for him. And Matilda, we'll see. Still collecting my thoughts with her.

At the end of the day this is just be airing out thoughts into the void but if you made it this far. Hi!

[shipmistress9]

Made to Order

Pairing: Riorgail

Rating: Teen

Summary: Xaden Riorson owns a bakery specialised on wedding cakes. He's good at his job, always has an eye for details and with a sixth sense for what it is his customers are looking for. But when a woman clearly not happy with the upcoming wedding breeezes into his shop (and his life), he has a hard time staying professional.

AN:This all started with the question what job Xaden might have in a modern AU, with how little we know about him. Only that he likes chocolate cake and Violet, really. My hazy brain then suggested that he's a baker for flowery wedding cakes. 😂😂 From there... well, you see what happened.

My rough plan is for this to have three chapters. It could get longer, though, we'll seen 😅

Shoutout to @taumoebaa for the delightful inspiration and support. 😘

(AO3)

. o O o .

It’s close to 4pm, my closing time for the shop, when the woman storms in. I get a brief flash of silvery hair and sparks of blue blazing in her hazel eyes before she all but slams her hands onto my counter. 

“I need a wedding cake.”

I blink. Usually, people aren’t this angry when they come into my shop. But at least anger is an emotion I have enough personal experience with to not get agitated about her. She’s most likely not angry at me, how could she when we never met, so I’ll just have to diffuse it to work with her. 

I take a moment to look at her with a raised eyebrow, give her time to reflect, then take a longer look around, at all the little tables with fake wedding cakes for demonstration, at the chill counter between us with a few taste samples that are left from other customers, at the pictures on the walls of more wedding cakes, and the folder right next to her hands with even more options. “Yeah, that’s usually why people come to me,” I say, not holding back on the sarcasm. If she is ignoring all rules of propriety here, I don’t need to stick to those, either. 

Now, it is she who blinks. She blinks again, then takes a deep breath, all anger visibly flowing out of her. “I’m sorry,” she sighs, her eyes closed. “It’s been… a rough day. I need a wedding cake. The wedding’s in about two months already, and I wanted to ask whether you still have time in your schedule to take my order.” 

I purse my lips, my eyes pulling together. That explains her bad mood, I guess. I bet all other bakeries in town rejected her request before she even finished it. And I don’t even need to check my book, I know I don’t really have time for that, either. But…

I take in her appearance, that spark of desperation in her eyes and the weight pressing down her shoulders. I’ve always been an incredible judge of character, and working as a baker specialised on wedding cakes also gave me some experience with certain kinds of customers. There are the loving couples coming in together to pick the cake for their special day. Then there are the brides coming in with one or more of their bridesmaids, all giggly and excited. And then there are women like her, tired, disappointed, or exhausted brides-to-be on their own, usually because their partners aren’t interested in all the planning that goes into a wedding and cancelled their appointment, in most cases on a short notice. In her case now, I’d also guess her partner was meant to order the wedding cake earlier but forgot about it, and now she has to somehow make up for their mistake. 

“I don’t really have the capacity for a big cake anymore.” I hold up my hand as her shoulders slump and she’s about to turn and leave. “But I could squeeze in something extra if it doesn’t have to be too elaborate?” I pity her. If her partner is already letting her down before the wedding, then I doubt their marriage will last all that long. So maybe I can at least help make her enjoy her wedding day. 

The woman lets out a long relieved sigh. “Thank you! You’re absolutely saving my life here. And no, it doesn’t have to be too elaborate.” She scoffs, wrinkling her nose. Maybe she should call it off altogether if she already knows they’re not the right partner for her. “Just let me know what would be possible and we can work from there?” She throws me a hopeful smile—and something inside me cracks.

I blink again, at the spark of… of something shining in her eyes, something that momentarily wipes my mind clear of all thoughts. 

“Uh, sure!” I clear my throat, fighting to clear my thoughts as well. What the..? “I, uh, I’ll see how much time I can free for this and then let you know? So we can pin down the details?”

“That would be amazing.” Now, she’s positively beaming at me. “Can I come in tomorrow again?” She throws a glance at her watch. “Around noon? Or is that too soon?”

My heart’s racing in my chest at the sight of her excitement, and I fail miserably at reining it in again. “Yeah,” I say, lamely. “Tomorrow would work.”

“Great!” She almost seems to radiate as she looks at me, all happy and joyous. “See you tomorrow then.” She pivots and sweeps out of my shop like a fresh spring breeze, leaving me baffled and in pieces.

. o O o .

Later that night, I lie in my bed and still can’t get her out of my mind. Which is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about her, don’t even know her name, for Dunne’s sake. 

And yet, I keep remembering how lovely her hair was, dark brown at the top and fading into almost metallic silver halfway down where it fell down her back. Shimmering in the afternoon light falling through the windows at my shop. I can’t forget how fierce her eyes were, so full of emotions, good and bad ones alike. I bet she never does things only half-heartedly. I can’t stop thinking about her body, so small next to mine. She’d probably barely reach my collarbone if she were to stand right in front of me. Without my help, my mind wonders about how soft she would feel if I were to run my hands along her curvy—

No!

I tear my eyes open, breathing heavily as I stare at the ceiling. 

No, I can’t—mustn’t—think about her like that. Because however brief our encounter was, there is one thing I do know about her. 

And that is that she’s getting married in about two months.

Next Chapter

[jtargaryen18]

Hounds of Hell MC 3: Axel

Sadie -- I finally found the courage to escape my abusive boyfriend, but I didn’t make it far. I’m holed up in a small Virginia town called Mercy. There will be no mercy for me if my ex finds me. Thanks to Axel, the gorgeous biker who towed my car to his garage, I have a place to stay and a job at the town’s greenhouse. I also have the hope that I might have a second chance at love one day, with Axel.

Axel -- When I got called to tow a broken-down car to my garage, I found the beaten and battered angel who owns it on the run from the devil. Here in Mercy, with me, she’s healing and learning to live again. When her ex figures out Sadie’s here, even his Mafia ties can’t protect him from me. His entire mafia family can’t take back what’s mine and there’s going to be hell to pay when they try.

Excerpt

After dinner, Sadie had retreated to her room. It had thankfully been a busy day and she hoped that Liza bought her excuse of just being tired as the reason she disappeared into her room early. 

Her nerves were shot from the man coming to the nursery today, probably one of Bobby's men. They were here in Mercy now, looking for her. They were so close to finding her. She tried reading but her mind rejected the words on the page until she gave up. She went into the bathroom, covered the roots of her hair that had grown out. Taking her time in the shower once that was done, Sadie was losing to fear and frustration at the entire situation.

What was she going to do?

 It had only been an hour or so after she called Axel that she heard back from him. Yes, the man came to the hospital but they cut him off before he could do any harm. Apparently, the sheriff also showed up. It was encouraging because maybe they were all really close to catching these men before they could do more harm. Maybe soon it would all be over and she could continue living here in Mercy with her friends, and her job. And Axel...

The darker corners of her mind reminded her that the men were still here for a reason. They had to know they killed the wrong woman by now. What would Bobby do about it? Send more men? Come to Virginia himself?

Late at night, the panic was hard to fight off. If it would save anyone here in Mercy who had been so kind to her from harm, maybe she should just find those men and let them kill her or take her to Bobby. No one here deserved to be shot like Ryder or killed just for trying to be good people. Just for trying to help someone who escaped from a horrible situation.

Maybe she should run away from Mercy, get started in a new place. She proved that she could survive after Bobby. Granted, she had a lot of help. And what made her heart feel like an aching open wound was the thought that she liked it here Mercy. It had become her home.

Axel had become her home.

A summer rain had started, the scent of it drifting in through the window by her bed. Turning out the light, she stretched out on her bed, trying to concentrate on the sound the rain hitting the roof. She would have given anything to be able to shut out all the thoughts and fears that plagued her. 

When someone's weight on the bed behind her pulled her out of sleep, she startled awake. Sitting up with a gasp, she found Axel sitting next to her on the bed, pulling her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know." Sadie held him for all she was worth. "I'm just happy you're here."

They stayed that way for a long moment. It felt so good, just being held in the shadows of her bedroom with the sound of rain all around them. For a moment, she could forget everything else. For a moment, she was safe and loved.

Axel smelled good. She buried her face in his long, dark hair, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of his neck.

"How is Ryder?" she asked, continuing to chain kisses over his skin. 

Axel's hold on her tightened, his hands starting to explore her.

"He's fine, Darlin'," Axel said. "Yeah, that guy showed up but he never even made it in the hospital."

"Did you stay with him while all that was going on?"

Shifting on the bed, Axel picked her up and placed her on his lap. The feel of him hot and hard beneath her was definitely pushing those lingering fears out of her mind. He was warm, solid. She wrapped herself back around him.

Axel eased back so he could meet her gaze. "That was originally the plan but a friend of his is a deputy sheriff now and she stayed with him while everything was going on."

He explained how everything went with the confrontation between the guy and Hero, the sheriff's warning.

Fears were trying to push their way back in. "Do you think the sheriff can handle it?" she asked.

His expression took on a somber note. "Darlin', if that guy pulled out in front of me an at intersection or knocked over my bike, yeah, maybe the sheriff's department could handle it. But this is serious. It's not the way of our club. We're not going to sit on our asses and wait for the sheriff to do their thing. They shot my brother and that demands an answer. And we ain't letting anyone answer for us."

It sounded like something Bobby would say, without the insults. The mob and Axel's club were both outside of the law. She didn't know a lot about either but it sounded like they had similar ways of dealing with things.If someone had attacked Bobby and his men, revenge would be swift and brutal. The Hounds might just handle things the same way.

The difference though was Bobby and Axel couldn't have been more different. Where Bobby allowed all the anger and rage he harvested from his violent world to bleed into his personal life, Axel seemed to mostly have control of it. She'd never really even seen him upset. Imagining Axel moved to violence was something she struggled to envision.

"We're going to take Ryder out of the hospital," he said. "We can't protect him there and now we know Sheriff Sawyer is watching closely, we just have to."

"Is that safe for him?" she asked. It was just Tuesday. "Considering his injuries?"

Axel sighed. "Probably not but we don't really have a choice. They can't take a chance that he saw something or could identify them. We'll take him to the clubhouse and most of the Hounds will stay there with him."

"What about you?" she asked, noticing he said most of the Hounds.

"I'm staying with you," Axel said, stealing a kiss. "I have to keep you safe too." More kisses, his arms tightened around her. "I will personally make sure that asshole never fucking ever hurts you again."

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[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hioooo!, I've been thinking if you could write about Laurel's perspective of how little by little she falls completely in love with reader-teacher. One day, the reader does not visit her in the greenhouse, as always happens. Marylin (laurel) worries. She looks for it and finds a reader nearby Long devastated. Someone rejected her and laurel comforts her

Lots of fluff. Please.

Yesss!!! Here it is!!!! I hope you like it!!! Sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I can't love an outcast (but I do)

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill/Laurel Gates x Fem Teacher! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, slightly smut mentions (implied), Laurel’s POV

Word count: 6,470

Summary: I’m Laurel Gates, but she doesn’t know it, I love her, but she’s an outcast, it’s supposed to be forbidden…

N/A: Requests are open!!! Sorry about the delays, I’m working hard on your requests. I love you all!!!

The alarm clock rings and another day begins. I get out of bed, take a shower and look myself in the mirror. Getting psyched up for another insufferable day teaching those monsters was getting easier. I only have to think that soon it will end, that they will disappear.

When Larissa Weems hired me to teach at Nevermore it was a relief and a disgrace. Inside the school things would be much easier, but also stressful. Every day I live with all my enemies, with people who were involved in my brother’s death, in my family’s death. Weems herself witnessed his murder, and here I am, ready to make all outcasts pay for her unforgivable mistakes. I know it's a matter of time, I just have to hold on for one more day, one more week.

It hasn't been hard to fool everyone. They don't seem to care about anything about other things than themselves. I feel like a kind of test, a test to see if normies and outcasts can really live in peace. No, I don’t think so. When Larissa explained to me how good it was that I was there, I could see a pathetic attempt to cleanse her reputation, to put Nevermore as some kind of coexistence paradise.

I don't mind being the only normie on staff. The dismissive looks and inappropriate comments from the rest of the teachers only fuel my thirst for revenge, my desire to see them all burn.

In the mirror there is only a blurred reflection of what I really am. Marilyn Thornhill, the sweet and innocent botany teacher. Everyone treats me like an idiot, but that's because they don't know what I'm capable of, that just means I've done a good job. In the mirror I see Marilyn Thornhill, the poor little orphan girl who some people found wandering in the woods. But I know that I can never be Marilyn Thornhill, because I’m Laurel Gates.

I leave my room and start walking through the halls, oblivious to the looks of contempt from what were supposed to be my co-workers. I will never understand why they think I’m an intruder, an enemy. They are evil, they were born of sin, they only serve to harm. They believe their very existence is a miracle, a divinely bestowed power from some kind of mighty god.

They were just lies and falsehoods invented in order to explain their own existence. I know it, they don't.

Students disgust me, they feel immune, victims of a system that doesn't want them. Perhaps if I told them about my childhood they would realize that they are the executioners, that they are the ones who cause suffering. I can't do it, I'm just Marilyn Thornhill. When the bell rings, the class ends and I can finally breathe.

I have a plan, one that I've been thinking about for over ten years, when I decided that revenge was the right thing to do, that it's what my father would want, what my mother would want, just like my brother. Debating with myself about whether it is what I truly want was a matter of seconds. "Duty is not questioned, it’s fulfilled," my father used to say.

Once the conservatory is empty, I can start working. I have spent half my life studying plants, I was always an exemplary student, the best young scientist in the town where my adoptive parents raised me.

Knowledge is might, and with that I could make my dreams come true. I already knew where to find it, the essential tool I need to resurrect my ancestor. He’s going to be the purger of all that scum. I don't like getting my hands dirty, that's why the Hyde idea was the best one.

Unlocking it was going to be tricky, but not impossible. That boy, Tyler Galpin, was perfect for it.

“Hello, hello, hello,” a voice that came from the door interrupted me.

It was not a student who had forgotten his belongings, but one of my co-workers, (Y/N). She was the young literature teacher, and an absolute pain in the ass.

“(Y/N)…” I answer, with a hand on my chest. She always had a habit of turning up in the conservatory by surprise. As much as I knew, I've never gotten used to it.

“Hey, Marilyn, how about the beasts? Did they behave well?” She asks, with that damn smile.

I smile, I can't do anything else, I'm Marilyn Thornhill.

“As always, at least today I've been able to talk for more than five minutes without interruptions,” I say, setting aside the chemical that would make the sheriff's son obey my orders.

She laughs, like always, and she watches what I'm doing curiously.

“What are you doing? Homemade tea?” Funny question.

I don't understand how such a happy person can exist in that horrible place. (Y/N) is not like the other teachers, she is full of vitality.

There has to be an exception, and in this case, the exception was (Y/N). From the first day she came to Nevermore, she was interested on me. She is not like the other teachers. It seems that she didn’t care about my normi condition. It was strange, that girl was strange.

She came to the conservatory everyday to chat about classes, or about personal stuff. She seemed to have no filter, maybe she was just a confident girl.

I don't prefer the contempt of the other teachers, but her attitude wasn’t good to me. She’s beautiful, the most beautiful girl I have ever met. She is funny, smart, cheerful...

Under normal circumstances all those attributes were good ones. But I'm on Nevermore she's an outcast, and I'm Laurel Gates. That she was that way just made me feel weird. I'm not made of stone and I always liked girls. But she couldn't attract me, she was an outcast.

My heart pounds when she appears, contradicting my own thoughts. If she's not there, it's easy for me to dream of the destruction of that abomination of an academy, of seeing the faces of all the outcasts screaming in horror, of seeing my ancestor taking revenge on everyone, of avenging my family.

If she is present, those thoughts become complicated. My head is not capable of imagining her face terrified. At first it was just a fleeting thought, now (Y/N) is able to distract me so much that I even forget who I am.

“Well, you can make tea with this, but I don't guarantee that you will continue to keep your eyesight,” I say amused. She nodded, waiting for me to tell her what I was doing. She was always insistent, she wanted to know everything. “It's for the aphids plague,” I'm lying. She is too innocent, she believes everything I say to her.

“Oh… Okay…” she sighs with a mocking tone. I raise my eyebrows and smile, removing my gloves.

“How are you? Did you get them to read Beowulf?” I ask, pretending to be interested in her. At least I'm holding on to the belief that I'm really pretending. Pretending to be pretending is a mental storm which makes me feel dizzy.

She sighs, leaning against my desk and shaking her head.

“Only two have read it, the rest have said that they preferred to watch the movie. You know, they do whatever it takes to see someone naked on TV,” she answers amused. I let myself go and laughed sincerely, leaning next to her.

“Teenagers,” I say, sighing too. She looks at me and nods effusively.

“Were we so obsessed with sex at their age?” (Y/N) asks. That kind of conversation made me somewhat uncomfortable. (Y/N) always said what was on her mind. I know I shouldn't worry, or start shaking at those words, but I do, my body is weak.

I open my mouth to say something, but I don't quite know what. Joking has always been an easy way out for me.

“I don't know, you're closer to their age... Maybe you can have a better point of view...” I say with a mocking tone, giving her a nudge and taking the tray with the herbs out of her reach. I know she doesn't have a clue about botany, but it's better not to take risks.

“Hey!” She protested. I smile, knowing that this was going to be her reaction. “Well, I guess you're right…” She sighed, bowing her head. “I can confirm that I'm not like that, I don't know how long I've been without...”

“Well, well, I don't need to know, (Y/N),” I say, preventing her from saying something that would make me even more nervous. She smiles mischievously, she knows that those conversations aren't my favorites. It's not that I don't like talking about sex, but with her I feel incapable, I start to sweat and my thoughts get confused, imagining aberrations that would never happen.

“Hey, Mari, I have a plan that you can't refuse for tonight,” she says, radically changing the subject. I cover the plants with a cloth and look at her with interest and a little fear.

“A plan?” I ask, crossing my arms.

(Y/N) always had a plan, something to do together. Having coffee in Jericho (which is especially useful for me when analyzing Tyler), watching a movie in her room, or sitting on the roof drinking a bottle of wine, usually looted from the principal's office.

I can't say I don't like those moments, in fact, I wish they would happen. The problem is that laughter and alcohol make me forget what my duty is, what purpose I have. My mind is clouded when I'm alone with her, talking, laughing, and drinking. We have so many things in common that, even seeing how she uses her ice powers, I doubt she's an outcast. If she really is, why do I think she's just an ordinary girl? Why don't I see evil in her actions? That only happens to me when I’m with her, no one in the academy can make me forget what they are, and what I am. Only (Y/N) can.

(Y/N) reaches into her bag pulling out what looks like a videotape. I frown and take it from her, looking at it curiously.

“Is that a VHS?” I ask, hiding my laughter. She nods amused.

“Yeah, oh, sorry, I forgot that in your time they didn't exist yet,” she says, mocking. Well played, (Y/N), you always know how to counterattack.

“How funny you are, aren't you?” I answer, causing her to stick out her tongue in amusement and wink at me. “Planet of the Apes?”

“Yes, it’s one of the cinema’s masterpieces. I thought you might like to watch it with some popcorn, we can even order some sandwiches at Andy's and skip the dining room. Really, if I hear those beasts yelling again while I'm eating, I don't know what I would do…” (Y/N) answers.

I shake my head slowly, agreeing with her. She wasn't the only one having such thoughts.

“And besides…” she says, putting her hand back into her bag. “Tadaaa… Haverst of 84,” she says, showing me a dusty bottle of wine.

“Oh, my God, (Y/N), don't tell me where you got it from,” I say amused, imagining the answer.

“Come on, try it,” she says excitedly, waving her arms.

She is sometimes so childish, and other times so adult. She is in the limbo of maturity. She surely is not clear what her future would be. I know what it would be, and it's not a good one. Thinking about it should make me smile, enjoy the ignorance of those poor fools. But with her I can't do it, I can't think straight when she's next to me, with that damn smile.

That's a very bad thing, something I've been avoiding ever since I met her. Sometimes I wish she was just another stupid outcast, that she ignored me, that she didn't even know my name. Many of the teachers don't even know my name, but no one really does. My name is not Marilyn Thornhill, my name is Laurel Gates, and you are all going to die.

But I can’t do it. My thoughts are unable to ignore her looks, her smiles... It can't be anything more than simple curiosity or interest. I have been fighting against my heart for a long time, silencing the screams that keep me awake at night, when I dream of her. No, I don't love her, I haven't fallen in love with that silly girl. It is impossible, something unacceptable, a sin with terrible consequences.

“Let's see…” I say, pretending to think of an answer.

“Come on, come on, tick tock,” she says impatiently. Is she never going to stop putting on that smile?

“Weems’s office,” I say, sure of what I say. She stops smiling and her face becomes that of a little girl, almost pouting.

“You're always right…” she sighs, picking up her bottle again and putting it in her bag.

“Because you always steal Weems's wine. If she catches you, rest assured that you'll be left without a salary,” I say amused, patting her on the shoulder.

“Oh… is she going to freeze my salary? You get it, freeze… Badum tss…” She says, moving her fingers, emphasizing her pathetic joke.

I laugh without feeling like it, but the more I think about it, the more funny it makes me. She doesn't have the power of ice, she has the power to make people laugh, to make people feel good next to her. Yes, it has to be that, that's the reason for my ramblings. She's an outcast, and she uses her charms to persuade people, just like that girl did to Garrett.

“You're the queen of comedy, (Y/N),” I say laughing, trying to pretend that her joke didn't make me so funny.

“So? Do you want a night of classic movies and some insane barbecue sandwiches?” She asks enthusiastically. I think so, I really think so. Laurel Gates' answer was always a resounding no. But now I'm not Laurel, I'm Marilyn, and she would always say yes.

“Sounds good to me, (Y/N), but I don't want us to stay up all night like last time. It's hard to handle poisonous plants when you're sleepy,” I say, with a warning face. She smiles and nods.

I don't know what I'm thinking. Fraternizing with the outcasts was a red line for me. Their hatred and their resentment towards me was the perfect excuse to live a solitary life in Nevermore, so no one would pry into my affairs. Naturally, (Y/N) was not in my plans.

What am I doing?

The sound of the video running brings back memories to me. Memories of when I was just a happy and studious girl. The pride of Ansel and Nora Gates. I remember watching movies with my brother, when we were just kids. But not everything was happiness. My brother used to turn up the volume when he heard my parents screaming downstairs.

My parents often yelled at each other, I never knew why, until Garrett was old enough to do "what he was supposed to do." Then everything changed. Movie nights ended and they were replaced by fanatical sermons from my father. In them he made us see the danger represented by the outcasts, the injustice they committed with our family. I didn't think things were as dire as my father wanted us to see, until Garrett died. Then I saw it clearly. He was right, the outcasts had to disappear.

“Here, your double of meat with salad,” (Y / N) tells me, taking a sandwich out of a bag, while the movie began.

“Where's the salad?” I ask, looking at the food and thinking about my health.

“Oh, I think I saw a piece of lettuce at the bottom of the bag, wait a minute,” (Y/N) says, reaching into the bag. I gesture for her to stop her disgusting feat.

“Okay, okay, it doesn't matter,” I say amused. She shrugs, and finally, silence falls.

It could be another night like others, but there was something different. (Y/N) was as usual. I know that she is an inveterate cinephile, and she takes advantage of any situation to tell me some curious fact about the film. That was always so. Also her erratic and disastrous way of eating and drinking, as if she had been starving for a month. I should find it disgusting, worthy of what is expected of an outcast. But I smiled when I saw her, her nonsense amuses me, I’m enthralled with her gaze.

I can't stop thinking that there was nothing different that night, that it was simply me who had changed. My body is touching hers and that no longer made me nervous, I felt comfortable next to her.

A sob interrupted my ramblings. (Y/N) had tears in her eyes. I look at her confused.

“(Y/N)? Are you crying?” I ask with a certain tone of irony in my voice.

She wipes away her tears and shakes her head.

“No,” she answers with a sob. “Well, yes… It's just that the main character's love story is so beautiful…”

I look at her strangely.

“You mean the relationship with the slave?”

“Don't you think it's super romantic? She doesn't even know how to talk, but she still loves him. Can't you see, Mari? They are from completely different worlds but the love is the same…”

I open my eyes wide. I don't want to get into a debate about love stories in movies. My mind is too busy fighting with love.

“Actually, they are in the same world, (Y/N),” I say funny. She crosses her arms with a smile.

“Great, Mrs. spoiling movies, thank you very much,” she says, pretending she didn't know the ending.

“How many times have you watched that movie?” I ask, taking a sip from my glass of wine.

(Y/N) looks at the television, as if she was waiting for something.

“I can't count them, but…” She says, getting up from the sofa. “Oh my God... I'm home... I'm back...” She begins to say, synchronizing with Charlton Heston’s voice. “I have returned to my home… I was at home the whole time… So they finally managed to do it… You maniacs! They blew it all up! You maniacs! Go to hell! Does that serve as proof?

I look at her and laugh at her interpretation, closing my eyes. She is silly, childish, cheeky, but so funny. I wonder what a life would be like with her constant jokes, her jokes and her smile. What it would be like to wake up every morning and see that smile in my bed, next to me. I shake my head, embarrassed by those thoughts that flashed through my mind.

She sits down again, as the credits begin to appear on the screen.

“Well, as I was saying…” She says, sighing, exhausted by such a dramatic performance. “It’s not that they are not from the same planet, Mari, but that within the same planet, they belong to totally different worlds.”

I listen to her with interest. I want to know what she is talking about.

“What I want to say is that… Well, do you think that love can arise between two totally different people?”

The million dollar question. It might seem like a hint, since she looks at me almost without blinking. I can't find the answer. I have always been in love, but never with someone so different, someone forbidden to me, my enemy, the reason of my miserable life.

“I don't think so, (Y/N), surely the differences seem absurd, but in the long run they only create problems.” That is my cold and meaningless response. To agree with her would mean accepting my feelings, accepting that I like her, that I’m in love with her.

Denying it is nonsense. I've been repressing those feelings for a long time, pretending that I don't think about her at night, that I don't say her name when I caress myself. It's just a passing sin, or so I think, but the idea of her unconditional love opened a very deep hole in my barrier, a barrier that stood firm, overshadowing any feeling that wasn't hatred towards her.

She no longer smiles, her gaze drops to the floor and then I realize the mistake I've made. If it wasn't a hint, maybe it was a doubt she had due to her youth. She will suffer the same fate as all outcasts, but in the bottom of my heart, it pains me to have let her down.

“Well… I guess you're right…” She says, getting up to turn off the video.

I look at her and notice her lack of a smile. It should amuse me, but no. Seeing her sad confuses me, makes me feel bad, guilty.

Back in my room I keep reflecting. Everything is ready, the serum for Tyler is ready. All my plan is about to start, but I don't think about it. I think about (Y/N), about how an outcast makes my nights an ordeal. She is an outcast, a monster born of sin.

I wasn't a novice when it came to loving an outcast. My brother Garrett fell into the same trap. That girl, Morticia, had him crazy. He was no longer the same. My father would beat him and yell at him for being soft, for having fallen into what he called demonic temptation.

He was only 17 years old, but for my father thought he was already a man capable of fulfilling his duty. The punishment for falling in love with an outcast was not whipping with the belt, not a week of punishment in the dark closet, but something much worse. He would have to be the one to finish off the outcasts, he would kill the girl he was in love with.

I can't think of a worse punishment. But once again, love was to blame for his misfortune. He only had to do one thing, poison the punch. An easy task in my opinion. If I had been older, I would not have hesitated. Of course I didn't feel anything for an outcast, as he did.

Instead of carrying out my father's orders, he went to kill his enemy, this Gomez guy, Morticia's boyfriend. That led her to his death. Love only served to confirm the innate wickedness of the outcasts. They were not capable of loving, only of harming. I should have learned that lesson, but little by little, I've been falling into the same trap.

I feel love for (Y/N), and less and less anger. I wish I hadn't met her, I wish I didn't make the same mistakes as Garrett made.

The days are passing and I’m beginning to accept my feelings. She seems a bit more distant. I wonder if that's because of the comment I made that night. Deep down it's still the same, but she doesn't get so close anymore, as if she were afraid of me. She should was, of course, she wasn't talking to Marilyn Thornhill, she was talking to Laurel Gates.

It's seven in the evening and there's no sign of (Y/N). I move around in the conservatory, watering the plants, reading some of the students' works... But she doesn't appear.

She can't be mad at me, I'm the one who's mad at her for making me feel love for an outcast. Still she worries me. A habit as common as going to chat in the conservatory was something that I already took for granted. I don't understand why she doesn't come, and above all, why I'm mad about it.

I jerk, bang my fists on the table. I'm nervous. I don't understand what I feel, I don't understand why I want her to come to talk to me, why I want so much to see that smile, why I'm so crazy about her.

An hour has passed and (Y/N) has not come. I can't wait any longer, I must accept that the outcasts will always play with you. Once I have accepted that I love her, she has moved on from me. I wonder if Garrett went through the same thing.

Maybe my father was right after all.

I close the conservatory door and go into Nevermore’s building. I want to forget everything that has happened and get used to the idea that this foolish crush has only been a temporary temptation, an attempt by the outcasts to dominate me and subjugate me to their charms. Typical of them.

I go down to the library, I have to look for necessary information for my plan. I try to keep my legs from shaking and my hand from picking up the phone and writing her a message. The room is empty, but a sob scares me, catches my attention. It directed me to the source of the sound to make a disturbing discovery.

(Y/N) was there, sitting at a table, discreetly crying. I look at her, she still hasn't noticed my presence. Seeing an outcast crying should be pleasurable, but it wasn't. It was painful, my whole body trembled and my chest contracted.

“(Y/N)?” I ask whispering. She looks at me with teary eyes, but she looks away.

“Mari…” She whispers. “Go away, I want to be alone,” she tells me. I frown, but I ignore her, I go to sit next to her.

“What's wrong ?” I ask with the purest innocence. It's Marilyn who asks, not Laurel.

“Nothing,” she says. She is lying to me, I know.

“You don’t know how to lie,” I say smiling. She also smiles and nods.

“I had a date…” She says, looking around her in case there were any unwanted ears.

My soul collapses in that instant. She has been on a date, with someone else. Definitive proof that she was just playing with me, even without realizing it. Poor things, they can't help it.

“A…? A date?” I ask, my voice shaking and fighting the rage building inside me.

“Do you remember Mindy? The girl from Jericho…” She tells me. I nod. According to (Y/N), Mindy was a waitress who seemed to have generated an interest on her. But she told me that she didn't like her. Now I don't understand anything.

“What happened?” I ask again, clenching my fists tightly under the table.

“Well, I told her that I wouldn't mind if we tried it and the stupid girl tells me that I've been confused, that she only wants us to be friends,” (Y/N) says, sobbing.

The pain I feel at this moment prevents me from seeing things as the way they are. She didn't feel anything for me, and probably she never did. I was so convinced that there was something between us, partly because of that I didn't feel so guilty for loving her. My hatred for outcasts grows to the point where I wants to have a button to kill them all in that instant. But no, I have to remember who I am. Marilyn Thornhill, not Laurel Gates. Marilyn Thornhill is good, Marilyn Thornhill is not in love with (Y/N), or so I think.

“Oh, honey…” I say, hugging her lazily, feeling how contact with her body was not a good remedy against my disease. “I didn't know you had feelings for her...”

“Well, it's not like I have feelings… It's just…” She says, holding on to my clothes, resting her head on my shoulder. She hugs me out, soaks my clothes with her tears. It is not pleasant to see her suffer, it is heartbreaking.

“Is it just what…?” I insist. I want to know why that stupid Mindy was so important to her. I need to know, it's something I'll remember when Crackstone is resurrected.

“I thought there might be someone who loved me, who felt something for me, but now I see that no. I don't understand why no one likes me...”

I open her eyes as I rub her back.

“That's nonsense, (Y/N),” I say involuntarily, cupping her face with my hands, looking directly into those beautiful eyes. “Listen to me, you are a pretty, smart, funny girl. If that Mindy doesn't love you, she's losing it. I’m convinced that there are a lot of much better girls wanting to have something with you,” I say with a smile. Inside I'm dying, but not me, but Laurel Gates. Marilyn Thornhill is good, understanding, she is not a murderer, she is not a woman who has lost her mind over an outcast.

“Do you think so?” She says, sobbing, letting my hand caress her cheek. I feel her tears on my skin and they don't burn, it's not acidic, as my mother used to say to scare me. They are real tears.

I nod, pulling her back into a hug. I can't help but close my eyes and feel guilty for believing that her body’s heat is pleasant. She cries inconsolably, not letting me go, just saying stupid things, like she'll never find love, or that she's ugly. Stupid outcast, you're devilishly beautiful.

The time she was crying on my shoulder flew by like a rush of air. Soon her movements changed, shaking her body and… Laughing?

“(Y/N)?” I ask surprised, moving away from her a bit. Yes, she was laughing out loud. I look at her blinking rapidly. Now I'm confused, I admit it. “But hey, can you tell what makes you so funny?” I ask somewhat annoyed by that change of attitude.

“It's that if you knew…” She says, stopping laughing, with tears in her eyes. “I'm not crying for Mindy, Marilyn, I'm crying because she wasn't the indicated one…”

“The indicated one? Indicated for what?”

“To forget about you!”  She shouts nervously. I step back, open my eyes. I’m speechless.

“About me?” I ask, feeling a lot of emotions building up in my guts.

“Yeah, fuck!” She snaps. She seems angry with me, and I don't know why. “I like you since the day I arrived at Nevermore!”

It wasn't a tender confession of love, it was a desperate cry, a call for attention.

“Didn't you realize it?” She asks, pushing me angrily. “I'm in love with you, Marilyn, I don't care to say it, since I know you would never be able to reciprocate.”

“But, but…” I say, almost out of breath. That was not the direction the conversation should take. She shouldn't feel anything for me. She was just playing with me, tricking me with her cheating and outcast machinations. She couldn't feel love, she couldn't feel anything, I knew it, my parents knew it.

“You idiot…” She says quietly. I lower my eyebrows, not because of the insult, but because of that unexpected revelation. Outcasts didn't love, she had to be lying and I'm willing to find out how.

“But, (Y/N), I, I'm older than you… I couldn't imagine that…” I say, overwhelmed by that information. I cannot tell her that I am Laurel Gates, that my family and my duty prevent me from loving her, because they could not. I love her, much to my regret.

“Is an age thing? Or is it that I’m an outcast and you are normi?” She asks, getting up from the table. She is very nervous, it starts to get cold in the library. “You said it the other day, different worlds cannot come together, you made it very clear to me.” The question on the movie day was serious, she was testing me. I don't know if I feel relief or discomfort.

“(Y/N), calm down, let's talk things over,” I say, moving my arms up and down. She turns and has her back to me. She must have been feeling a terrible shame, but she was firm in her words. She wasn't lying, she wasn't trying to fool me.

My world began to blur and my legs moved by themselves. I walk towards her, sighing, feeling a strange emotion. I lift my arm and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around so I could look into her eyes.

(Y/N) cried, sobbed, but she didn’t take her eyes off me. I bring my hand to her cheek, wiping a tear from her face. I don't talk, I don't say anything, I just struggle to breathe. Having her so close to me overwhelms me, overwhelms my senses and nullifies my thoughts, my conscience and all my values.

I will not have another opportunity to find out, to know if her lips are fire, if my skin would burn to make contact with hers. She is beautiful, I’m an idiot. I sigh, moving closer to her until I feel her ragged breathing. She looks at me and I close my eyes. My lips kiss hers and nothing happens. I'm not burning, I'm just shaking.

I've been trying to suppress these images in my head for so long that I couldn't imagine feeling this good. Her lips are soft, tender. Her hands go directly to my waist, hugging me, preventing me from moving away from her. I don't want to do it either.

I caress her, looking at her with pity, but not for her, but for me. I have fallen into her trap. I'm kissing my enemy and I like it, it just confirms how in love I’m with her.

The kisses deepen and she stops crying to smile against my lips. I smile too, enjoying her kisses. She kissed me slowly, enjoying the sensation. I let myself to be caressed, I hug her, I kiss her neck, I run my hands over her chest...

(Y/N) pulls away, looking at me lovingly, like she's feeling the same thing I am.

“I love you…” She whispers in my ear. Her happiness is evident, her radiant smile and her increasingly effusive kisses. She loves me, now I know. I love her, and I've always known it. There were no ghosts in my thoughts, no Ansel Gates yelling, threatening, forcing me to hate her. It's just her and me, no one else, no witness to my profane act, to my loss of judgment.

I nod and look at her closely. Up close she is even more beautiful, more tempting. At that moment there is no Laurel Gates, she does not love Laurel Gates. Her hand moves down to mine and she drags me toward the stairs.

I don't say anything, she doesn't say anything.

We walk through the halls, dodging students, teachers, and kissing at every corner. I didn’t know the destination, but she did. The door to her room creaked open and the slam resounded throughout the school.

There was no reason to hold back anymore. I had already sinned, there was no solution.

I go crazy with her kisses, with her caresses. Her gasps intensifying as she removes her clothing. I admire her body as if it were that of a goddess, that of a divine being. She wasn't, she was the devil, an evil creature.

I pray for her bed breaks when we both fall into it. I dream that somehow something would interrupt our passion. I couldn't stop kissing her any other way. Her kisses were addictive, her touch was hot and her gasps kept me steady in what I was doing.

There was no hate, no rancor, just love, just desire.

There were no explanations, only moans, kisses, hugs.

I feel guilty when my kisses cover her chest, her stomach, her belly…” She moans, moves, growls, screams. She's releasing a tension I didn't know existed, a desire I wasn't supposed to have.

I no longer listen to the voices in my head, the ones that threaten me with a punishment from God. I only have her body under me, away from it there is nothing, nothing that makes me change my mind.

I moan when she touches me, like my skin really burns from her touch. It's a nice, cozy, warmth. Desire had gotten out of control. I no longer had my plan in my mind, I just wanted to be inside her, and her to be inside me.

We both scream, kiss, and finally collapse on the bed. She hugs me, she lies on my chest. I wrap my arms around her, hold her tight against me. I don't want her to leave, I don't want to stop feeling her body.

It hadn't even been ten minutes and (Y/N) had already fallen asleep. It must have been a difficult day for her, and I don't blame her, mine had been even worse.

An unconscious fear begins to invade me. I'm afraid of burning, of consuming myself right there for my sins. I tremble and hug (Y/N) even tighter, closing my eyes, waiting for a punishment that never came.

I feel stupid, but still I can't help but think that this could have consequences. It was like those people who don't believe that an evil entity appears in your bathroom at night when you say its name three times, but still refuses to do so. It was the same feeling.

Nothing happens. There is no divine punishment. I sigh and look at the sleeping (Y/N). Her face is peaceful, calm. There are no regrets, no guilt. She is free because she is (Y/N), she is not Laurel Gates.

I need to refresh myself, clarify my ideas. I get up, careful not to wake her up, and go to the bathroom. I turn on the faucet and stare at the water. My mind is blank, I’m unable to think of anything else than her.

I had gone to Nevermore for revenge, with a specific purpose, to kill all the outcasts. That includes her, that's for sure. I can't help but have doubts, feel like I'm not doing the right thing. That I could lose her even if I saved her life. No, she could never love Laurel Gates.

I still have time to disobey my family's orders. I've been postponing the Hyde stuff for several days, always with poor and meaningless excuses.

I turn off the faucet and sigh, leaning over the sink. There is no answer in my thoughts, just love, just pity, compassion and redemption.

I look in the mirror and finally realize it. (Y/N) loves me, but she doesn't love Laurel Gates. I love her, being Marilyn, being Laurel, that doesn't matter, what matters is that she loves Marilyn. The small detail is that I want to kill them. There's no difference between Marilyn and Laurel. But, the more I look in the mirror, the clearer I have my decision. I no longer see Laurel Gates in the reflection, I only see Marilyn Thornhill.

[pumpkachubby]

Pumkachubby's side story: Gourmet Expeditions! Chapter 1

Here we go! A new story begins today, set in the same universe as my main story but this time the setting is in the Paldea region, our new protagonist Shiro and in this chapter we will see how he meets a particular Miraidon, I hope you all like it~

Warning: This story is set after the events of the main plot of Pokemon Scarlet and Violet, and while in this particular chapter nothing remarkable is spoiled its recommended to be aware of it for future chapters, since game characters will appearing here and there

The situation was bad: not only was I lost somewhere in the mountains of the North Province, but I also lost most of the contents of my backpack trying to run away from an enraged Noivern earlier that day. My rotom phone was damaged too so I had no idea how far we were from a town or at least a pokemon center, and with the sun setting already I had to set up camp for the night and try my best to make something edible. I was left with enough ingredients to make one last sandwich, so despite the worried look of my pokemon I decided to try my best.

It was so awful my body rejected it so hard I ended up dropping it to the floor.

-”I’m sorry guys, I really tried my best” - I apologized to my Applin and Tatsugiri who quickly came to comfort me - “ I was really hoping that weird spice we found the other day would be useful… What should we do? Walking in the dark of the night could be dangerous, I guess we can go a night without dinner, right?” - I said as I looked at the sunset.

It has been half a year since I moved to Paldea, using all of my savings from my last job I came to join the Academy, since I heard they take students from all ages I took it as a chance to start a new life alongside Ringo, my Applin that has been my partner since I was teenager, and the only friend I ever made back in Galar. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that I prefer the company of pokemon over other people, I was never able to get along with them… Well, at least I am until they realize my true nature. If you were to separate the people of this world you would usually make 2 distinct groups: normal humans and Hybrids, those who share a characteristics with pokemon, but in fact there is a third group people don’t talk about or are simply looked down as “mongrels”, descendants of Hybrids and human that by a simple look you may think that barely inherited any of their ancestors visual appearances, but once you notice you can’t unsee it, like the shape their hair naturally grows, which is my case.

School life in my childhood was terrible, children, no matter if they are human or hybrids, are awful, and that extends to teenagers and adults, so I ended up being homeschooled, even though I tried to join school multiple times. I wouldn’t blame them for having an easier time getting along with those who are kin, but is it really necessary to look down and mock those like me who don't fit in either group? I can’t even blame my parents for it since they didn't even know they had a hybrid ancestor until I was born…

So I ended up growing bitter, as to be expected, but after an awful situation in my last job I decided to quit and start a new page in my life, I tried my best to come with a positive energy, forget about my past and be ready to make friends but unfortunately that wasn’t the case… once my new classmates realized my origins they turned against me. I ended up joining Team Star because I met one of its leaders, who is a pretty cool guy who immediately accepted me for who I am, but that didn’t stop the same cycle to repeat among the grunts groups, so I ended up running away once again.

A rumble in my belly brought me back to reality, my pokemon looking worried at me. 

-”Don’t worry I’ll be fine, I’m sure we can find some berries in our way to the nearest town tomorrow morning, we just have to endure the nigh-” A sudden movement in the bushes at my back startled me, under normal circumstances I would have been able to deal with a wild pokemon but I couldn’t force my friends into battle with an empty stomach so I quickly put them back into their poke balls. A large figure jumped from the bushes and glared at me, for a second I thought it was a Cyclizar but it was purple, way bigger and metallic-looking, like some kind of robot. The creature stared at me for a couple of seconds and quickly jumped in my direction. I closed my eyes waiting for the worst but nothing happened, when I opened them again I noticed the creature was behind me, happily eating the sandwich in the ground. Once it was done it turned back at me, this time with a more friendly look in its eyes. It was then when I noticed I had seen this pokemon before, it was a Miraidon. The latest Champion have been seen riding one of these and since they are quite popular it's hard to avoid knowing about them, although I have heard that this pokemon in particular was quite rare so I immediately assumed it must be the same one.

-”Did you get separated from your trainer?” - I asked the Miraidon, who gave me a confused look - “So… you don’t have a trainer?” - I said as I petted his face - “I’m sorry you had to eat that from the floor, must have been pretty hungry right?” - The pokemon smiled back at me and started to run in cycles, usually looking back at me. Normally I would say that I have a good instinct to what a pokemon is trying to tell me, you don’t need to be a hybrid to get an idea after all, but as this Miraidon jumped everywhere my confusion only grew bigger and bigger.

The pokemon kept moving around and occasionally looking back at me for a while until it suddenly stopped and jumped on me. It was pretty heavy so there wasn’t much I could do, but at least it was clear it wasn’t trying to hurt me. its eyes were very close to mine until I saw a strange glow on them, in that moment the Miraidon jumped back into the air and started to spin quickly as a yellow and violet light enveloped it, it didn’t look like any move I knew and somehow it didn’t felt like I was in any particular danger, it was captivating. Then it suddenly exploded into a cloud of purple and yellow sparks, I looked away for a moment and when I looked back I was presented with a sight that made me question my sanity: The wild Miraidon now walked in two feet, no, it had transformed into a humanoid begin! Their body still had a robotic look but it was considerably closer to a person now. After checking their new appearance for a couple of second it spoke to me:

-“Good, it worked”- They said, with a deep but electronic-sounding voice.

-”Yo- You can talk!? Wait, what’s going on??” - I managed to say as I fell to the ground, I couldn’t believe what I just witnessed - “I must be dreaming, right?”

-”What are you saying? Oh, let me help you” - They said, offering their hand, I took it by instinct and I could notice how hard and cold it was.

-”Is this, is this real?” - I said out loud, but the Miraidon replied nonetheless.

-”Well you can say I’m surprised too, I moved by instinct, I noticed you didn’t understand what I was trying to say so I took a form more suitable for communication.”

-”Wait a moment! You can’t just say that! Pokemon can’t just turn into people, right?”

-”How can you deny what your eyes just saw? You are an interesting one, but to satisfy your concerns, no, not all pokemon can do such a feat, but I guess some really powerful ones like myself can, although… I’m not sure if I can turn back now, at least I’m certain I don’t have enough energy to do it again, but I’ll worry about that later. For now let’s proceed with the reason I took this form, speaking human language is easier than I expected so let's not waste any more time.”

-”You did this just because you wanted to talk to me?” - I asked in shock.

-”Yes, that food you didn’t ate saved me, I’ve been traveling around in this unknown place for a while and finding something to eat has been quite the struggle so when I saw that piece of food I couldn’t help myself but to jump into it, I wouldn’t exaggerate if I said that you saved my life so I want to pay you back.”

-“But… it was a terrible sandwich…”

-”Maybe for you, but it was the most delicious thing I have memory of tasting”

-”Or maybe you just were too hungry?”

-”Its a possibility, just like the fact that I don’t have many memories of flavors, let alone memories to begin with…” - They said in a sad tone. -”I woke up in a cold, shiny cave with no memories a couple of months ago, alongside many others like myself. Life was rough there, constantly fighting for food, and while I had no problems getting it I couldn’t stand being trapped in that cave, so I ended up using all the energy I had to escape…”

-”I see…” - I replied looking at his hand, still holding mine, knowing too well how that feeling of being trapped in an hostile environment feels like.

-“Please excuse me, that was uncalled for. While you may have discarded that meal I don’t know how long it would have been until I found more food, and I heard that it was the last of your supplies so, as a way to pay you back, I can provide you with a fast way to travel around, sure I can’t transform like I was before but I can still travel way faster than a normal person can.”

-”I-I see” - For a moment I doubted myself, but how could I say no at this point? Even if I wanted to say it I had to think of my pokemon too after all. - “ Then… how should we do it?”

-”Just hop on to my back and get a good hold. Oh, but first, there is something we should take care about.”

-”What would that be?” -I asked, as they grabbed my backpack, taking an empty poke ball and dropping it into the air, as it fell on his head the usual red light came out of it and surrounded his body, taking their body into it and quickly closed itself. I jumped to grab it by instinct and as my hand touched it I could see the sparkles that announced the capture was successful.

That night, I captured a Miraidon…  a humanoid Miraidon!!??

The warmth of the sun in the morning woke me up, I was in my room in the academy and Ringo quickly came to check on me, he looked worried, like every morning after I had a nightmare.

-”Don’t worry Ringo it was just a dream”- I said as I petted him - “There is no way a pokemon can take a humanoid appearance and talk, well, maybe some Zoroark…?”

-”I’m glad to see you are awake.” - Said Director Clavell, who seems to be waiting right in the entrance of my room, thankfully most of the staff here don’t have prejudices against people like me so I have always felt welcomed by them. I would ask why he was here but Tatsu was on his shoulder so I deduced it was him who told him I had woken up. - “It was quite the uproar last night.”

-”Uh? Did something happen?”- I asked, confused.

-”How rude” - Said a deep, electronic voice coming from the same way the director came from - “But I guess I can’t blame you for thinking it was all a dream, you fainted when I got into that ball.”

-”WAIT WAIT IT WAS REAL!!?? Did YOU bring me here??”

-”That’s correct.” - Intervened the Director - “I was finishing my duties last night when you showed up unconscious in their arms, it was quite the scene between the few presents, after all not every hybrid share so many physical characteristics with their pokemon ancestors, there are some that have tails and wings but these are very rare cases, but I guess that doesn’t really apply to our guest here.”

-”So, you know about his nature?”

-”Of course, we talked about that last night alongside Ms. Geeta, they even had a battle.”

-”It was rude of me to suggest such a thing, I underestimated her strength…” - Said the Miraidon scratching their neck.

-”Wait, so you know that they are…?” - I asked the Director.

-”While it's certainly a surprising event to witness, it's not precisely something “new” in our world, there are many old folk tales that mention pokemon taking human form to make a bridge between the human and Pokemon, who were separated from each other for big part of our history, although such cases are often about pokemon of legends. If you want to know more about such tales you can ask Ms. Raifort, your history teacher.”

-”I wasn’t asking about that, I mean, they literally went inside a poke ball! They technically are my pokemon now?? I can’t just own a person! I mean sure they don’t look completely human but it's kinda messed up if you think about it. Why did you do that in the first place??” - I asked looking at the Miraidon

-”I guess I should apologize, I didn’t know that’s what getting into that ball meant until last night, I thought I had to do that to properly travel alongside you, that was the impression you and the other trainers I saw in the last couple of days gave me, I couldn’t just ask them after all.”

-”I understand your concern, Master Shiro, but you need to understand their point of view too. They don’t know much about our society after all, but they can learn about it, don’t you think? We talked about this too with Ms. Geeta and we concluded that as long as they remain with that appearance they can’t act like a pokemon anymore, so it would be better if they travel around and learn about our culture. As far as we know they can’t return to their previous state, but if they become able to do it then they should decide how they want to live their life by themselves, don’t you agree?”

-”I see, I guess you are right, who are we to decide for them who they are…”

-”Then…” - Said the Miraidon as they walked closer to me - “Would it be too much if I asked for your support? I still feel like I’m in debt to you, but I would like to have you as my guide…”

-”You took me back to society safety, that’s more than that dirty sandwich was worth! If someone is in debt here it should be me, of course I can teach you around, although I do have something I want to ask… ”

-”Of course, what would it be?”

-”You need to put on clothes…”

-”Now that you mention it, you are absolutely correct! We need to get you some clothes as soon as possible.” - Replied the Director, quickly covering his eyes as he rushed out of the room.

-”Do I really need to?”

-”If you want to experience life as a person then you need to start by following the basics of modesty.”

-”... fine. But with that in mind, there is something important I want to ask from you.”

-”Sure, go ahead.”

-”I want a name.”

-”Eehh!!?? But I’m not good with that… and I’m not going to be your trainer, I don’t really know how to feel if I named you…”

-”It doesn’t have to be the most creative name around, I may change it in the future, but if I’m going to live life like a person then you can’t call me “Miraidon”, right? It would be like if I called you “Pumpkaboo”!”

-”THAT’S-”- I shouted, just now realizing that I wasn’t wearing the hat that I always have on to hide the very distinct hairstyle that has given me so much trouble all my life. I could be angry but they clearly are not aware of my own circumstances, I could do nothing but agree. -” That’s correct, you do need a name, give me a second… … … What about something like… Light? Since you shined in a bright light when you changed your form.”

-”Hm… Light…”- They stood up for a couple of seconds, repeating the improvised name a couple of times to themselves - “yeah! I like it. Thank you Shiro, I hope you can teach me a lot of things from your people”

-”My people, you say…” - I had to admit for someone that has never felt like belongs anywhere, it hit pretty close where it hurts, but I couldn’t run away, this is what I came looking for in this region: start a new life, live new experiences, and I wasn’t going to let this chance escape, not when there is someone right in front of me that sees me for who I am. - “Then? is there anything in particular that you are curious about?” -I asked them, not really sure myself where we should start

-”Well, I was wondering… you said that the sandwich I ate last night was pretty awful, so that means there is way better food out there, right??” - Said Light, with an excited sparkle in their eyes.

-”Of course! This world is full of different, delicious food for everyone to taste, I can show you a couple of places in the city to start”

-”Marvelous! Then get ready, we have a starting point for our journey! Let’s begin our Gourmet Expedition!” - They said, grabbing me by the arm and lifting me into the air, my pokemon joined in jumping cheerfully around us.

-”Alright alright! but first get some clothes on!!”

[nuoyipeach]

No Doctor Could Help When I'm Love-sick

Park Sooyoung X Nakamoto Yuta

warnings!: slight violence, mature scenes, mental health issues

tags: @yutahoes

"I'm off to work, don't do anything stupid." Sooyoung announced as she bent to put on her shoes. As she finished and stood straight, a pair of hands wrapped around her waist, a body suddenly clinging on to her making her sigh.

"Skip today."

"And who's gonna pay for the bills?" she answered sarcastically.

The man chuckled, and brought his lips closer to her ear. "If you'd let me go back to work, then maybe I could help out."

Sooyoung moved out of his hold and grabbed his face, looking worriedly at him. "I'd rather work my butt off for you to stay at home than that." she scowled. "You promised me Yuta, you'll never think or speak of it..."

She knew Yuta since college, and they became close friends, and she fell in love. After graduation, he disappeared, but her feelings didn't, and during her internship at the hospital she found him again.

In the psych ward.

She found out from Johnny, a mutual friend, he started doing odd jobs around the town to earn extra at the beginning of his degree, but through one ended up doing some dirty work for a mafia. He left before they could drag him in anymore, but the deeds had been done, he had blood on his hands, and the trauma lead to several nights where he couldn't sleep, the image of his actions floating in his mind. And then he lost it, he played with knives, the weapon he used, almost hurting the people around him, and in the end his friends had him admitted into the hospital.

She asked permission to join in on his treatment, and it was through that process she found out he loved her too, evident of all the times he scratched her name into whatever he could find (including his arm).

Yuta was stubborn, he yelled at the doctors every day, always the same thing that he couldn't be cured. But one look at the woman he crushed on and he felt better. He wanted to get better for her, and his improvements convinced the doctors he was OK to be released.

Though his dangerous habits of playing with knives and anything sharp remained, Sooyoung lived with it, she trusted he wouldn't hurt anyone or anything, and also made it a rule to never speak of his past. And he lived by it. Every day she'd go to work, he'd stay home finishing the list of chores she'd leave him. She found that he would keep himself busy by trying to please her, and used it as an advantage to keep his mind off of anything dangerous he might think of.

Smiling back at her, he moved forward and kissed her, and Sooyoung wasn't one to reject his affection. They pulled away and she brushed his hair down with her fingers. "Get the list done, OK? I'll be back soon today." she pecked him once more before going to the door, turning back for a quick second. "I love you."

That made Yuta feel even happier than ever, hearing those words from her were the only thing better than being with her. "I love you too!" he cheered causing her to giggle before she finally left. He turned back to the apartment and sighed. "Alright. Let's get this list done, she'll be so happy."

>>>

Sooyoung froze on confusion hearing the person on her phone.

"I assume you're his emergency contact from the bracelet, he's currently admitted to the ----- Hospital psych ward."

Yuta was in the same hospital she worked at, as a psych patient, again. Instead of answering she simply ran off from chatting with her coworkers and headed towards where she knew patients were kept. She walked around, heart in her throat from fear and worry, trying to find any sign on him, until she heard some male voices yelling.

Following the voices she arrived at a padded room, where she saw 4 male staff trying their best holding Yuta from escaping, and one more trying to get the knife out of his grip. "Stop! You're hurting him! It only makes things worse!"

The doctor in charge turned, confused by Sooyoung's presence especially after noticing her tag saying gynaecology. "I'm his wife, and I've treated him before." Sooyoung explained. "Don't use force, tell them to leave the room and let me in, I know what to do."

The doctor looked sceptical, but nodded and called the men out from the room. The moment Yuta felt free he dropped to the ground, breathing heavily for a few second before looking towards the soft walls. "Yuta..." If it wasn't for the familiar voice, he would have started stabbing them immediately.

He slowly turned as the door shut, and saw the figure of his wife. She had taken off her white coat, a reminder to him that she was here as nothing but his wife, and walked closer to him. She sat on her knees in front of him and cupped his cheeks to make him face her, and saw his eyes soften once they made eye contact.

"Let me." she spoke softly, taking the knife from his hand and tossing it aside. His tears started, and like a child he moved into her embrace, crying into her chest. "It's OK, it's OK. Talk to me when you're ready. I won't leave you." She hugged him, kissing the top of his head every few seconds.

Sooyoung peeked and saw the doctor had switched off the tint from the window, his and the attendees faces in awe at how she managed it so well. It wasn't even in her department, yet she was quicker at the job than him.

Slowly Yuta moved out of her hold and looked at her. "I went out because we ran out of eggs... this man tried to harm a woman... I tried to stop him but then he tried to stab me... that knife is his... I grabbed it..." he showed his bandaged palms, tears forming in his eyes again.

Sooyoung held his hands and caressed the bandages, noticing him hiss softly at the pain. She held his face again and spoke softly. "I'll get your report, and we'll go home together. I'm not leaving until you're discharged." she kissed his cheek before getting up, pulling him to stand with her and sat him on the bed. "Be good, please." she pleaded, and he nodded.

As she left the room with the knife, the doctor stared at her still in shock, and before he could ask she was already answering. "I've known him many years, he's like this because of severe trauma. And yes, call me crazy, but I married him even after. I still love the man he was, and he still is that man, when he's not triggered." She put her coat back on before reaching for the report, filling in the contact section. "I'd like for him to get discharged soon. The longer he's kept here the worse his condition will get. I'll be waiting here until then. And if you'd like, I will consent to sending you updates on him for a certain period, but trust me as soon as he's home, give him two days and he'll be normal again."

That was a half lie. He'd be normal, but his normal wouldn't be considered so by the doctors considering he still plays with sharp objects. But Sooyoung knew he meant no danger to anyone, as long he wasn't triggered by anything.

In two days Yuta was home as promised, and the first thing the couple did was take a shower together. Yuta sat on the shower bench while Sooyoung washed his hair since his hands still had fresh wounds. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his head against her tummy while she washed the suds off his hair, smiling at the way he moved into her touch when she combed through it.

"Alright mister, my turn." she pushed him out only to see him pout.

"Can I watch?"

Sooyoung scoffed and laughed at him, but nodded as she turned away to wash herself this time. And all Yuta did was really just sit and watch. Whenever Sooyoung would walk around partially or fully naked, he would simply stare and smile, as if eyeing the most beautiful artwork he had seen.

And she loved that about him, the way he would just stare at her as if its the first time seeing her like that, sometimes throwing in random compliments about any and every part of her.

Like he did now in the shower. "My wife has such a sexy back." he blurted, causing her to laugh as she turned back to him shaking her head. "I wish I could help you wash up today..." he said more softly, sounding dejected.

Sooyoung turned to him and smiled, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "The moment your hands heal and you can touch water and work with them, we'll take a shower again together before anything else, OK?". He pouted with a nod, and they soon finished their shower.

She helped him to bed, caressing her fingers through his hair as he laid his head on her chest while she watched the TV in their bedroom. Yuta was quick to fall asleep, snuggling into her which caused her to chuckle. She looked down at her husband's face, sleeping peacefully, the sweetest man she's known. There was nothing but innocence in this man (maybe except for when they're intimate) and it hurt her, a sudden wave of sadness crashing over her mind as she wondered how could someone like him get into a situation like that.

She turned off the TV and scooted down a bit, pulling him closer as he unconsciously followed, nuzzling into her chest. She played with his hair as memories of what everyone around her had said came back when she was marrying this man.

Her family. You're doing so well in life, why are you taking in this kind of a set back. He's psycho, he'll destroy you, why him?

Her friends. We know you love him, but do you really think he's worth it?

His family. Are you sure? We won't blame you if you want to leave him.

His friends. We haven't given up on him, but why are you trying to accept him the way he is? He should fix himself for you.

There's a reason she keeps limited contact with everyone. No one deserves to know what they're going through, whether good or bad.

Yuta knew she saw him the way no one else did, or ever would. What he did was just a facade, she knew inside he was a scared man. And the recent accident was proof of it. He didn't harm anyone, yet harmed himself, and resisted whoever approached him aggressively.

She noticed all this, and knew exactly how to love him. She knew him, inside and out. Even when his psych evaluator questioned her as a doctor, she'd say the same thing.

Love is love, it's the best medicine, yet an incurable disease.

Sooyoung kissed his hair before closing her eyes, hugging him tighter, and whispered as she drifted off to sleep. "I love you Yuta. No matter what you're going through, I'll always love you."

>>>

another rushed ending😓 haven't been able to fixate endings recently despite having all the plotlines figured out hhhhh

also I know lovesick means smthg different, but that's why I named it love-sick heh I just liked the title too much🙂

[ebdanon]

remember how my mil got in an argument with the neighbor for her comments at my fil for hanging up the clothes to air dry?

well my husband was doing laundry the other day, which of course, involves hanging up the clothes to air dry. he's done this before, but this is the first time I guess my mil noticed? anyway, today, she sat him down to tell him that laundry is a woman's work, and he shouldn't be doing any of it because "what will the neighbors say?" and when they see him do that "they'll start talking, and soon enough, the entire town will know"

i was sitting right there when she was saying this, but I was ignoring her because she's been going on rants the last few days so I've just been tuning her out. he gave me the rundown of everything later. anyway, my husband's response was "this isn't the 16th century to divide chores between men and women" and that he'll do whatever he wants, so she should stop meddling and commenting nonsense. she went on a defensive, explaining how it's not her that thinks it's the 16th century, but the neighbors, who talk, and then the talk spreads to the rest of town.

i only heard him say the 16th century comment from the whole thing, I was too engrossed in watching cats on tiktok at the time. but when he told me all this I couldn't help but laugh. imagine being so worried about what the neighbors will say. like he's a blushing bachelor who's set to marry the prettiest bachelorette on the street, so he has to be mindful of what the neighbors will say in case she rejects him and he remains single forever lmaooo

and then i realized something else - recently, we've decided when I cook, he washes up everything (god forbid we use the dishwasher at any point, it's in the kitchen for decorative purposes only) and vice versa. but whenever I cook, my mil rushes to wash up everything as soon as I'm done using it - sometimes, even when I still have to use it in like 5mins. I didn't think much of it until he told me about the conversation earlier today, and I realized she's been doing that because the kitchen is a woman's job, just like beach is Ken's lmao. So to make sure her son doesn't have a "difficult time" in the kitchen washing up, she's doing it for him before he gets a chance to even step in the room. so I'm sure she's not worried what the neighbors will say because they don't live in the kitchen, it's just her being stuck in outdated tradition. Yet she loves complaining about how she had to learn how to do both women's and men's work once she got married (painting walls and chopping and stacking firewood are men's work I guess) and how much she excelled in everything despite the gendered work she was unfamiliar with. I've had a conversation with her at one point a few months ago where I said there is no gendered work, the only division of labor is strong/tall vs weak/short bc who wants to throw their back out. I'm short, of course, someone tall aka my husband, is going to be dusting the tops of whatever I can't even see, those spaces don't even exist for me. But you can bet I can crawl in between or under any tight space due to my size, which makes taking care of those surfaces my job. I don't think she understood me, but she did agree at the time. I guess she had to otherwise the neighbors would have said something about her lol

Anyway, I wonder how far she'll be taking this while we laugh about it afterward. I'm also wondering if this is just another sociopathic experiment from my fil, egging her on to do these things because he's the one who believes in such bs for the sake of his experiment. It did start just recently, and he hadn't been paying too close attention to what we've been doing before and started to do so now? I feel like "Stay tuned to find out" is a great way to end this so ✌️

~lore anon

once again im so confused with how these people have views like this and still raised your husband

[elix8r]

Exactly, like point blank most southern universities are pwi, unless they are an HBCU. Like most colleges where I am are between 60% white and 80% white, it's not because they are rejecting POC, it's because most don't want to go here, I mean we still have sundown towns here; therefore, there might be 5 POC in everyone group of 100 people. Also anyone that wants be like well the sorority group photo only had whites, I have yet to see a sorority group photo that included every member. Like my friend, I remember seeing her sorority group photo the first time and being like damn yall only got 30 people in that sorority and she was just like no there're 500, but they are selective on who gets to be in the photo, like only the best of the best get to be included in their press photos and all, so if it's all white girls, then those white girls are probably officers, have a ton of community service hours, and crazy high GPAs. The liabilities are big, like I was an elementary education major, therefore we go through background checks, and all the sororities I know were like that, doing background checks, running fingerprints, and having anything pop up was immediate dismissal. I know girls that got kicked out of their sororities, but whatever it was wasn't enough to kick them out of the education program, like some sororities are stricter on who they let in than the education program students who are going into schools and working with children. And that is exactly it, like yeah a 2.5 might cut for a social sorority or social fraternity, but most actual sororities want high GPAs, and if it doesn't seem like you can do that, they aren't going to take the chance in hoping that thoughts and prayers can make your 2.4 turn into a 3.3. They wanna get salty they didn't get in, but just because you get a bid doesn't mean you get to stay, like I know most of the sororities around here accept like 200 girls at the start of the year, and usually only around 100 are still there at the start of the second semester, and then about 70 at the end of the year. Like my friend was in her sorority all 4 years, her starting class had 160 girls, then went to 120, then 90, and by the end of her 4th year, there were only 50 girls left from her initial class. And while yes, some girls left the sorority for personal reasons, most were kicked for failing, getting arrested, I know she told me how one girl got kicked for getting pregnant by a married man; like just because you get a bid and all, doesn't mean you last, more don't than do. It's nice that legacies aren't that big there, I know here even college admissions are dominated by legacies, they care more about getting the legacies to donate more money, so they take them first before people who aren't legacies. There are usually a variety of sororities, and here is the thing, you don't need to be in one that is npc, local sororities and regional sororities are just as fine; like when you apply to jobs they aren't gonna go oh she was in Tri Delta make sure you hire her. Yes, having connections will get you further, but you can make those same connections without having to be in what you derive as a top tier sorority. And if you want those connections hard enough, a social fraternity will help you just as much as a sorority, since those are usually coed, and usually have much more members. Honestly, out of all my friends, I think only one ever had a negative experience with their sorority, and it was one that ended up being forced to close their chapter due to hazing; but everyone else loved it.

NDA kinda pretty is a new compliment, like you see another pretty Engene you gotta be like damn you're NDA kinda pretty. Enhypen are just dudes being bros and I love it, since each and every one of them gives different frat boy energy. Like Sunoo gives the least frat boy energy, but his energy is like he's gonna be the face of the frat, like no one can say no to him. Like every time I see a video of them on stage just like doing their thing but not doing choreo it's just like, damn those are some men, just some guys being dudes and dudes being bros.

omg im so so sorry for responding to this so late 😭 i literally remember seeing it and telling myself to remember to respond to it but i got so busy

but yes my school was one of the more diverse schools in the sec but even then we were very much white-dominated so when you go to a school like that obviously most organizations not just greek will end up with having majority of white students just by sheer demographics. i also def agree that the ig pages don't say shit lol my sorority was like 300 girls but had like the same 20 people in posts and I've only been posted a handful of times my entire 4 years so nothing you see online will represent what is real. i'm actually so impressed by your knowledge in greek life lol literally everything you're saying is spot on esp for someone who wasn't involved but yeah literally no one realizes that getting a bid doesn't mean anything because so many people end up leaving or getting kicked out like a lot of my friends left after sophomore year because they didn't need to be in greek anymore like they made their friends and keeping up with everything along with your studies was way too much esp for the money you were paying and that's very normal and you're right gpa is so important girls go on probation all the time if you get gpa lower than what is required so all that needs to be factored in. and yess! npc is not the only way! i was in a npc sorority but i was also in a professional coed frat too and i found so many connections in both organizations so if you really don't feel like npc is right for you then there are SOOO many options!

lol i will be using nda pretty as a compliment now 🤭 lmao yes sunoo def doesn't give the stereotypical frat bro energy but there are boys like him in frats who are just super friendly and knows everyone and has very good relationships and reputation and that's how i see him in my series but the rest of them are so fratty i literally have no issue just transferring them in to my frat universe hehe

[musicisforthesoul]

The "YEG" Experience (Summer 2023)

This is Part 1 of my 2023 Year-End Blog Series. Hope you enjoy the read! :)

Having visited Edmonton in the Winter of 2022, I was very eager to go back simply for the fact that there were just so many fond memories made the first time I was there. From all food adventures and starting a shared food IG account (which really needs to be updated since it be lacking food posts lately…), to the super fun (but often painful) attempts at learning how to downhill ski, cross-country ski, and skate, and everything else in-between, it was the definitive highlight of 2022 for me. While it was an eventual goal of mine to one-day come back, career goals and aspirations took precedence over planning a trip to Alberta. Since starting a Master of Financial Economics at the University of Western Ontario in the Fall of 2022, it has been a constant grind of studying, completing assignments, writing exams, preparing job application documents, applying for (co-op) jobs, networking, preparing for interviews… all for the hard work and preparation to end with a ‘thank you for your interest in this role, but we have moved on with other candidates… don’t forget to fill out this survey about your application experience!”.  As futile as it felt to painstakingly rinse and repeat the job application process, only to have 9 out of 10 of your applications get rejected, there will always be an opportunity out there. Even if it may be 1 interview out of 99 rejection letters, that 1 chance can be the golden ticket for you to achieve great things… so take the opportunities you get and prepare for them as if its your last.

Aside: Although this blog post was not meant to be some sort of inspirational TED Talk, may this small little tangent be a light of inspiration for those who are dealing with similar circumstances. Please remember to never give up and keep giving it your all! Your hard work and dedication will be rewarded 😊

The ‘one’ opportunity I had led me to a summer internship at a company based in Edmonton. Killing two birds with one stone, not only was this an opportunity to build my career, but it also gave me the opportunity to visit Alberta… this time, in the Summer. And so, this began my 4-week Alberta Adventure: Summer 2023 Edition.

Week 1: Calgary Stampede

The first week in Alberta started with a visit to Calgary to experience the Calgary Stampede. It definitely felt like a bigger, better, more extravagant version of the Canadian National Exhibition (CNE). The shows were quite nice to watch (such as the motorcross, dogs how, and miniature horse show) but I suppose the most interesting thing was seeing an EDM concert in the evening. I guess I can check-off seeing a bunch of attendees wearing cowboy/cowgirl attire vibing to techno music from my bucket list.

Week 2: Banff

One thing to note whenever you plan to visit Banff National Park is to plan ahead, especially during peak times when kids are out of school or when families are booking their vacations. Case in point? Not having the foresight to book the reservations needed to visit Lake Louise and Moraine Lake… since personal vehicles are no longer allowed to visit Moraine Lake and parking is now super limited at Lake Louise (to preserve and protect the surrounding wildlife). Major major major shoutout to Jenny and Stephen (who will be mentioned a lot in this blog because they are the most amazing people ever) for dealing with my shenanigans and be willing to wake up at 3am to drive all the way from Calgary to Lake Louise so that I can at least see Lake Louise. You guys are truly the best <3

Day 1 was spent in Banff Town (or the Town of Banff), since we could not go to Lake Louise or Moraine Lake (since a reservation was needed and everything was already fully booked the day-of when checking for availability while trying to get into the national park). Nonetheless, it was still a fun experience to hike around Bow Falls, bask in the surroundings of Tunnel and Sulphur Mountain, and feeling like a tourist by buying good deals at the now-liquidated Hudson’s Bay in the town. The highlight of the day had to be relaxing in the Banff Upper Hot Springs after a day of hiking… Nothing feels better than relaxing in a natural hot spring after a tiring day. Definitely wished I could have experienced the hot spring in the Winter, but I guess all the more reason to come back again in the Winter!

Day 2 was action-packed, starting at 3am with the hopes of getting one of the limited parking spots at Lake Louise. Despite arriving as early as 6am, we probably nabbed the 3rd or 4th available spot… so, if you ever decide to drive to Lake Louise, go early! (otherwise, you might be waiting a while for people to leave) Our efforts to beat the crowd was rewarded with a stunning view of Lake Louise during sunrise.

In an attempt to find better views (and to enjoy the area while we were there), we decided to embark on a hike that was supposed to be somewhat quick, not too difficult, and would end with nice scenery to take pictures of. Instead, my small brain decided to take the trail that said “Louise” not knowing that it went the OPPOSITE DIRECTION of where Lake Louise was.

A 3-hour, 6km hike in the wet marshes without hiking boots later… we were back to where we parked the car filled with as much regret as the amount of water that seeped through our shoes. Despite this blunder, we still ended up hiking the short but nice Fairview Lookout trail, where it gave a beautiful view of Lake Louise and the historic Fairmont Chateau Lake Louise.

Overall, ‘twas fun and rewarding visit to Banff National Park. Though the absence of snow may take away from the magical atmosphere of the Canadian Rockies, experiencing Banff in the Summer has its own unique charms filled with gorgeous sunsets and a plethora of fun and rewarding hikes.

Week 3: Chasing Summer

When Jenny had asked me a few months before my Alberta trip, whether I was interested in going to Chasing Summer, I didn’t even hesitate in my response. I simply said “Sure, I’m down” without even realizing what I was actually signing up for. Only after I got confirmation that tickets were bought and plans were being made, did I realize that I agreed to going to a 2-day EDM festival. Had I ever gone to rave before? Nope. Was I nervous about the experience? Not going to lie, yeah, I was a bit anxious. Do I have any regrets? Absolutely not. Would I do it all over again? Definitely.

Before the weekend of Chasing Summer, the rave crew got together to make kandi. Honestly, it was a fun night of making really unique and well-designed bracelets while also having the chance to get to know the people I would be raving with in a few days time. I really should’ve made more generic bracelets to actually give out since I swear, I put too much thought and effort that I felt obliged to keep most of the ones I made… the ‘SOJU’ one especially.

At this point, I was still a little nervous leading up to the weekend of the rave, but at least I knew who I would be going with… and knowing that they’re super chill and quite fun to be around, I felt quite at ease.

No blog is complete without some food pics. Here are some pictures of sushi taken from Ari Sushi the evening before the festival:

Day 1 of the festival arrives, and we all made our preparations. The theme of the day? Neon and black. After an hour or two of pre-drinking baijiu and vodka, we were ready to attend the festival.

The lineup for Day 1 included the likes of ARMNHMR, Gryffin, James Hype and Tiësto (the headliner). From when the sun was up to when it set, the atmosphere was electric. It really felt like how I imagined an EDM festival would be: people screaming, dancing, vibing to each and ever single beat and bass drop. The pre-drinking really did help as I don’t know if I would’ve felt the same vibes if I didn’t feel some sort of buzz. It definitely helped that we somehow ended up near the stage which made it all the more intense to be vibing while being blasted by the music in full force. I feel like the amount of cardio I achieved from one day of raving was equivalent to the amount I would normally get in a week… just pure jumping and dancing in sea of ravers who were looking for a good time. With the completion of Chasing Summer Day 1, I felt thrilled to do it all-over again the second day.

The theme for day 2 was Pastel and White. Compared to Day 1, I turned up my drinking game (since I opted out of doing weed or molly). In a 7-hour span, I left no opportunity to sober up as every chance I got, I chugged soju, Smirnoff Ice, or vodka, as if I was drinking water. It was probably smart not to chug the Baijiu since that thing burns you like any hard liquor would.

The second day was definitely a bigger blur for me given how particularly drunk and tipsy I was the entire time. Nonetheless, I know for sure that the vibes were at an all-time high with nobody slowing down even after an intense day 1. I probably can’t describe in words how amazing the experience was, but luckily the photos that were taken will hopefully suffice. As the saying goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words.”

To cap off a weekend of raving, we visited an alpaca farm before heading home!

What made this experience so incredibly memorable were the people I had the privilege of going with. To Jeremy, Amy, Josh, Jasmine, Johhny, Jenny, and Chuulie, thank you all for making my first-ever rave experience one that I’ll never forget. Feeding off all your energy and vibes, I had the time of my life dancing, screaming, and shouting to the electric lineup of ARMNHMR, Gryffin, Tiësto, and Zedd. Thank you for also being so kind and super fun. I know that I was simply a guy from Ontario who was ‘just visiting’ but you all made me feel included and for that, I’m eternally grateful. I hope that one day we can reunite, and you would allow me to join you guys again to dance and scream the night away at another rave/EDM festival. Miss you all <3

Week 4: Drumheller

The final week of my Alberta Adventures took me to Drumheller, the Dinosaur Capital of the World! Visiting the Royal Tyrrell Museum and the Hoodoos, it was stunning to see how pretty the landscape was despite being considered an area where things scarcely grow.

As 2023 comes to a close and I reflect on the many great memories made this year (particularly during my trip to Alberta), I want to thank all the great friends that I was able to spend time with. To LJ, thank you for many sports talks and the one time we were able to play tennis… in the rain. To Jeremy and Amy, it was super nice to see you two again and thank you oh so much for the many fun memories! From being able to help out for the Delish Cup, to making kandi, to Chasing Summer and of course, the weeks of playing ultimate frisbee, a huge part of why my Alberta trip was amazing was because of you two! To Josh and Jasmine, thank you for being such kind-hearted souls and super fun people to be around! Playing ultimate frisbee and going to Chasing Summer will always be something I’ll cherish! To Johhny, thank you for your loveable energy and vibes and for making my first-ever rave experience one I’ll never forget (also thank you for keeping me alive when I was drunk out of my mind). Last but not least, to Jenny and Stephen, thank you so much for your amazing hospitality and the many great adventures we went on while I was in Alberta. Through all the good and sometimes not-so-good times, thank you for being such amazing amazing people. I hope to visit your new house one day!

With that, looking forward to what adventures await in 2024!

[libertyreads]

Book Review #76 of 2023--

Eight Nights of Flirting by Hannah Reynolds. Rating: 3 stars.

Yes, you are seeing correctly, I’ve officially started my Christmas in July reads--half way through June. Sometimes Christmas in July just has to start two weeks early. With the sheer volume of books I’m hoping to go through in the next three weeks, it’s the only method to the madness. And I actually started this year with a Hanukkah romance. In this one, we follow Shira and Tyler as they land in Nantucket a day ahead of their families thanks to a freak storm. Shira convinces Tyler to help her get better with boys so she can ask out someone who works with her uncle once they finally arrive for the holidays. But can Shira get over the embarrassment she felt three years ago when Tyler rejected her? Can those flirting lessons really help her land Isaac?

There are some things I think this book did really well. Like the setting. For some reason, I love the idea of a location that is normally so busy in the summer and it being used as the setting for a winter story. I think the author does a good job of showing that this is normally a summer/beach town and that those who are around now are the every day Nantucket people and those who came for the holidays specifically. It all felt authentic and real. I also loved Shira’s giant family. Even if they were a bit much at times. I think it helped move the plot forward without it feeling forced. I loved the friends to enemies to lovers storyline. It all made sense and it was all done really well. I thought Shira was a little oblivious at times but that could come from her being so stuck in her own world of books and lessons with very little time for actual dating. Tyler was a sweetheart and I appreciated that he let Shira get to the same understanding of their friendship/relationship before pursuing anything. And, as always, I loved the holiday scenes. I can’t say for sure how true to life the Jewish traditions were handled but I enjoyed them and thought it was pretty informative for someone on the outside. We also got some Christmas stuff in there too thanks to Tyler’s family celebrating the holiday.

The story dives into an unexpected plot that I don’t think the summary even mentions in passing which made it a bit of a shock. I didn’t mind that part of the story too much but I did feel like it took away from the rest. I don’t know if it was just one plot line too much for me or what. I liked where that plot line actually ended up and I think it was fun. It just took away from everything else going on for me.

Overall, I give the book a 3 star rating, the romance a 4 star rating, and the holiday-ness of it all 4 menorahs.

[m1dn1ghtposts]

// tw: suicide, death, self harm, sexual assault, mental illness, vent //

00:22 am

i saw a post about wondering if your 12 year old self would be proud of you today, and i really thought about everything that’s happened. i’ve done some great things but some equally bad ones too, so in this post i’ll go through some of those.

- i graduated high school early with a high gpa

i also reached record suicide attempts when i switched schools, almost succeeded a couple of times, and relapsed into self harm… something she hated. i still pick at my skin, and think about joining my love pretty often. i was physically and verbally abused because a guy that tried to rape me while i was under the influence got mad when i rejected him. yeah i skipped a grade, but i lost everyone, and nobody believed in me until my name was read off at graduation. if i didnt have my partner at the time i would have broken down completely, theres no way i could come back from that much of a dark place and been okay.

- i got accepted into the college i wanted to go to

my car, the only thing that has consistently kept me hanging on to this life, was keyed while i was there. my roommates were toxic and lied to my partner to disrupt my relationship. i couldn’t focus on my classes because they would have people over until anywhere from midnight to 3am. i couldnt get a job because whenever i would show up in my usual dark outfits and makeup to any place in the little country town i would get great reviews as far as capabilities and qualifications go, but never a call back. id also get weird looks all the time, maybe im crazy and seeing things but when a bunch of boys say im scary looking and they feel threatened i dont always take it as a compliment. not to mention the sudden and horrific passing of my partner during finals, the event that drove me to dropping out. to this day im fighting for a refund, despite it all happening within the fall of 2022 semester.

- i drive a cool car and found a really neat interest

i hardly ever get compliments, and my car is damaged, though i’ll never say exactly where. theres chips in the paint where rust pokes through, a piece missing from my windows tint, sun damage on parts of my paint, scratches everywhere either from the keying or from her previous owners… i could point out every little flaw forever. i love my car so much, its crazy to me that i never realized earlier how much i love cars, but that doesn’t mean anybody else appreciates the work and money i put into my car to keep her clean and shiny. not to mention how misogynistic the car community is. its depressing to see some of the posts ive seen, saying how women terrible drivers and dont know anything about cars. not only is it depressing to see from some of my favorite content creators, but its making me want to stop trying. stop pouring so much effort into something nobody will appreciate except me. maybe this is dramatic, but its true to me. once every month or two it takes a few of my friends to convince me to keep trying and keep building her up, but when most of what i see is negativity its very hard to ignore. i dont need everyone to like my car, i dont need everyone to be accepting of women either, i just want to feel like im a part of a community i allign a lot with. isnt the whole point to bond over wanting to modify your car and watch the progress?

- i did great in band and survived all 3 years of marching band (remember, i skipped a year)

i havent touched my trumpet in forever and started smoking sophomore year from stress, right around the school change. i know its bad and will kill me someday, but do i really care? so what, im only alive today because of pure luck. its really sad to say, but i couldnt care less about when this all ends, all i want is to feel okay. i just want to have this small vice and if it kills me someday so be it. also, for every great achievement in band i screwed up a run equally as bad or just didnt even play the music. its hard to stay motivated in a place that hates you.

basically, for every achievement i can boast, there’s an equal or greater bad side to it. at least thats what it seems like. maybe im just negative, or maybe im realistic. why should i lie to myself anyways? my 12 year old self was great at every subject and at least tried to be happy and spread joy despite the bullying. she didnt know about her own abuse, from a family member no less. she didnt know why her step brother liked touching her privates or why he kept doing weird things with her dolls. now it just keeps happening, with everybody i hold close. not even just sexual assault, but manipulation ive learned to notice, straight up abuse that i never recognized. honestly, my current self sees no real value in doing really anything, i’ll lay in bed all day if i cant get up. i could have failed out of college and i couldnt even get a job until it was fully remote. i abuse my body and i cant stop, i dont know how. i smoked weed in college because i couldnt sleep or calm down and now most nights there are a blur, its all i had to cope while 1.5 hours away from my partner… when i had him. maybe its my fault, maybe i just screw up everything i touch like the inverse of midas. i cant tell, i just know im losing it.

[erindrifter]

You know what? Fuck it. I want to talk about this and get it off my chest.

You know how when people think of "Weird" people, it's always the people who seem strange at first, but once you get to know them, they're really nice and kind?

What about the people who seem nice until you start talking to them? The people who have enough social skills to carry a customer service interaction, but beyond that they're completely lost? The people who always seem to be hiding behind one mask or another?

Because I can tell you from experience: those people will have a REALLY rough time finding friends. Because I am exactly that sort of weird.

In elementary school, I always had those cross section books that showed the inner mechanisms of things, or the books on trains. During recess, I would sometimes join a group doing an activity, but could also just do my own thing. I never really had a bullying problem, because honestly, I was the kid that always got overlooked.

I made one(1) friend in elementary school. After that, I got roped in to a group of friends for middle and high school. But once high school was over, that group disintegrated. It was just me, that one friend from elementary, and another. The other studies abroad, so I never see her anyways. When she is in town, I get to hear all about her hanging out with my first friend. Things I only hear about afterwards.

I managed to cement myself as the geeky movie/video games friend. Anything more active, I don't get to go to.

Now, I live alone. My job pays well enough for that, but my social life has taken a dive. I don't see my friends very often, because they're off doing other things. I've mentioned I would be interested in going to some of these things, but I have yet to get invited.

Now what? I don't have the social skills to go out by myself and meet new people. That's never been my strong suit.

I'm a solid 5/10 on looks. Literally just average. There's nothing distinctive about my appearance, so people don't notice me. If someone does talk to me, it doesn't end in friendship, maybe mild interest until they wander off. Any time I try to approach someone, it doesn't work. I sit alone, and the only time someone sits next to me is when there's nowhere else to sit.

Take a look at my time on here. I've posted art, I've written fanfic, I make 3D models, I stream. None of that does well. Literally none of it. The most amount of notes I've gotten on a piece of art I made is around 80. In this time, I've made some friends, and lost contact with all but 2 of them because I just don't know what to say I've never had a friendship like that.

And that's the core root of my problem. That's EXACTLY WHAT I WANT. I want a friend, or a group of friends, who just does things together. Goes downtown and does some window shopping. Goes hiking. Explores around the state a bit. Does movie nights with popcorn and laughter. I WANT THAT.

But it seems that I just don't get to have that. No, I have a friend who never has the time of day for me anymore, and I don't even know where to begin making new friends.

And this isn't even going into the realm of romance. The concept of romance is something that seems unattainable. It's just not in the cards for me. Someone here might say "Oh, you're over exaggerating, there's someone out there for you!" Yeah? And how is the initial meeting going to occur? How is it going to be sustained when I can't properly carry a conversation to save my life?

I don't even feel comfortable acting like myself in front of people. Nobody knows the full me, because I don't know if they would actually accept me. I told my parents I am bisexual, and they rejected that aspect of me. How can I trust that some other person won't? I can't do that again.

So, no. The one thing that I want is something that I don't seem to be able to get. I don't get close relationships. No, I get to be held at arms length, and only when it's convenient.

Fuck.

[returntosaturn271995]

April 18th: Fricken Pissed Part 2: Reframing it.

Life is difficult, anger is normal. Let’s make this right in your eyes:

1.  ChicExecs took my 10 page presentation and never emailed me back. I added a negative review to Glassdoor (among many already there) and somehow that just made me angrier?

Reframe: If you had worked for them, you would have had a super shitty experience. You dodged a bullet and now you just have another example of work to send people. 

2. My interview (the third one) with Diff Eyewear was disorganized and I felt like the execs were sexist despite reaching out to me on Linkedin. GOD. Job hunting is bleak.

Reframe: If they move forward, ask for a fuck ton of money. If they don’t know what they’re doing, then they don’t know what you can’t do. These people can’t recruit for shit.

3. Marvelous Mrs. Maisel hasn’t been good since season 2

Reframe: You’ll always have those beloved seasons. Besides, there might be some watchable moments along the way. (cough Luke Kirby). 

4. Pretty sure Effexor withdrawal gives me vivid nightmares and night sweats.

Reframe: Pretty sure Effexor is also what keeps me from taking a marinara bath after a hard day. All good things have prices. 

5. Now that Scott’s back in Austin he never reached out again. Which is weird because he basically wanted to marry me before. I guess pussy power is about proximity.  

Reframe: Life is long. He treated me like a queen when he was in town. 

6. James hasn’t reached out since our date last week. After all the stuff he said about being so in to me. Maybe he’s just a bad texter because he’s always been like that but still. Am I allowed to be angry? Why does this make me like him more when two weeks ago I wasn’t even sure if I was that crazy about him?

Reframe: Well at least I’m hot. That’s the only explanation for why men go so crazy for me at the beginning. He’s also been out of town. He also spent over a hundred on dinner last week. Fuck it, let him self-select out. We used a condom. 

7. I got drunk and sent my college roommate a nice text wishing her well on her engagement. Ugh I’m lame. No, she did not respond.

Reframe: At least your drunk texts are friendly. Saying kind stuff is still saying kind stuff. Also if you die first she’ll feel like a total bitch for not saying thank you. 

8. Kate’s had a dude here for two days straight and he keeps using my and Hannah’s bathroom. He goes through toilet paper at an alarming rate. He’s either buidling a mummy costume or Kate’s dating another dude who lives in his van.

Reframe: In fairness to Katie she’s only dated one dude who lived in his van. Also he clearly makes her happy. And thank god he’s moving to Bali soon. Even if his suitcase is stuffed with my toilet paper.

9. Kara Godfrey. She’s just a shitty friend. And she reminds me of a lot of shitty friends. So I project a lot of anger at the idea of her. Sara sent us both a text today, which was actually very sweet of her. I’ll try and focus on that.

Reframe: Kara’s got her own problems and I did fuck her brother years ago. She may or may not know. She’s also kind of a bad friend to everyone. 

10. Is it me? Why does it feel like it’s me? And why hasn’t therapy made me less annoying yet? I know I’m supposed to FEEL better, but I would sure love to be treated better and somehow deemed lovable. 

Reframe: All this anger is more perceived rejection than anything else. So maybe it’s a good sign it pisses me off. Because honestly I’ve been working hard on myself goddamnit. I’m having my back here.

11. I was pretty shitty at yoga today. Maybe I’ll give it another shot now that I’ve hopefully journaled a chunk of my crazy out.

Reframe: I at least rolled out the mat and cat-cowed a little. A couple of months ago that would have been a fucking punchline. Who knows maybe I’ll do it again in a bit. 

12. Once James messaged me and said “Why are you acting like a stranger?”. When he was the one who hadn’t reached out after our first date.

Reframe: So many men want to be chased and I aint doing it ‘lil mama. Lisa reached out to get pedicures, I’m going to hang with her instead.  

13. I still haven’t made the goddamn smoothie I promised myself I would make. I bought the ingredients Saturday. Maybe I’ll put on a murder podcast and TRY.

Reframe: I put on the murder podcast and made two smoothies. I feel better/more hydrated now. Some of this anger may have been based on my working out on an empty stomach. 

14. I was reading about Joe Biden and his first wife died in a horrible car crash right before Christmas that also took the life of his infant daughter.  Yes, it was 50 years ago. Yes, I already new about this. But now I’m downloading his autobiography and just lamenting the fact the BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE AND DONALD TRUMP GETS TO DO WHATEVER THE FUCK HE WANTS.

Reframe: Donald Trump could still go to jail. Joe Biden eventually met Jill. Hold your families close and persevere. Still that story is so fucking awful. My problems aren’t that big. 

15. Made the mistake of thinking too long on my walk home about a guy who took sexual advantage of me in college and realized that’s why I can’t stand soccer outside of a Ted Lasso episode. Idk why this is under the Mrs. Maisel season and yoga, but it is.

Reframe: I’m not alone. Soccer is boring. And I’m part of the cause that will improve the lives of future girls/women. Campus sexual assault is common, but that doesn’t mean it always has to be.

[littlemisspascal]

Mailroom Crush Part 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count: 2600+

Summary: A story about Reader who works in the mailroom of the embassy and her encounters with a handsome, brown-eyed DEA agent.

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, Stechner is the worst, Reader’s mother is mentioned, inaccurate depiction of how an embassy mailroom works, Idk what Katie’s job is on the show so I just assigned her one, this is only loosely based on canon of Season 3 so the timeline does not 100% match the show’s

Author Note: Because I love Javi and Tesoro, and also because there was so much positive encouragement, I decided to add more to this fic 💗 Somehow instead of writing fluff, I ended up with angst and drama 🤷‍♀️ As always, thank you everybody for your support and I hope y’all enjoy this segment!

Part 3 / Part 5

The night is humid and the embassy’s air conditioning is on the fritz again, sweat starting to grossly cling to your skin. If you knew anything about maintenance repair, you’d take a hammer and screwdriver and go fix the damn thing yourself, but unfortunately you don’t. Instead, you stay in the mailroom preparing packages for the morning delivery, a tedious cycle of printing the label, peeling it off the sticky paper and pasting it on the box, one after the other. 

You drag a stool over to your workstation, resigning yourself to a long shift of monotony, except as soon as you’ve gotten comfortable with your ankles crossed there’s a knock on the doorframe.

Craning your neck, you spot Javier’s frame filling up the entryway. He looks as though the humidity is affecting him, too, judging from the way his hair has started to curl along his shiny forehead. Still, your heart skips a beat, thrilled at seeing him, which is embarrassing, really, since it’s only been two days since you last saw him. 

This relationship—this bond—that you’re developing with Javier is so new, barely in its beginning stages of existence, and yet you can’t remember ever feeling so much excitement buzzing through your blood than when you’re around him. It’s hard not to feel like a teenager again, like you’re the bookworm who somehow managed to score the quarterback as your prom date.

Pushing those soppy thoughts aside, you gesture for him to come inside with a wave of your hand, returning the soft smile he gives you.

“Tesoro,” he greets, coming to stand next to your stool. He glances at the large stack of labels you still have to unpeel, and then picks up your hand, toying with your fingers. Although his hands are callused, his touch is gentle, like he’s holding something precious. “Be careful. Paper cuts are the fucking worst.”

“Yeah, unfortunately they’re one of the hazards of being a mailroom clerk,” you reply, shrugging a shoulder. You squeeze his fingers before pulling your hand free to resume your task again. Javier’s lips quirk, mustache twitching with the movement.

“Of all the mailrooms, in all the towns, in all the world,” Javier begins, eliciting a snort of laughter from you at the Casablanca reference, “what led you here to the Colombian embassy?”

“I lost a bet with my mother,” you say, accentuating your answer by slapping a label on a package. Javier laughs, brown eyes crinkling, and you blame the poor air conditioning for the sudden burst of warmth expanding behind your ribcage. “She said I needed to spread my wings, see the world, and bullied me into applying. I bet her they’d reject me and if they did, she’d leave me alone. She bet they’d accept me and if they did, I had to take the job.” You shrug again, gesturing to your surroundings. “I lost.”

Javier tilts his head, voice soft. “Are you...happy here, tesoro?”

“It’s good,” you say, then grimace because that’s not really an answer. Turning to face him, you explain, “I’ve always liked being around mail. Seeing people’s expressions when you hand them a letter from a loved one, or an important package they’ve been waiting for, or whatever. Being there for those moments, it feels like I’m making a difference in their lives. A small one, sure, but even the tiniest pebbles can create big ripples in a pond, right?”

“Right,” Javier echoes, his eyes heavy as he stares at you for a moment, and then he’s kissing you again.

His mustache tickles against your skin and he tastes like coffee and the mintiness of nicotine gum, and you just melt against him, helplessly sinking into the pleasurable warmth of his sweet kisses and his palm resting on the side of your neck. It’s unbelievable, the effect this man has on you. How quickly your heart has carved out a space for him to occupy 24/7 rent free. 

Pulling back, you press a quick peck against his nose before gesturing towards the labels. “I have to get this finished.” 

He leans in again, eyes bright with mischief, and you intercept his attempt at stealing another kiss by pressing your finger against his lips. “Javi,” you grumble, trying and failing to sound firm. “Ambassador Crosby won’t be very happy with me if these packages aren’t ready to send out in the morning.”

“Don’t worry, tesoro,” Javier says, lips brushing teasingly against the tip of your index finger. Your eyes narrow, and he leans back with a rueful look, like he just couldn’t help himself. It shouldn’t be as damn cute as it is. “No matter what you do, I’ll always be at the top of his shit list.”

His voice sounds tired all of the sudden, weighted down with something you don’t understand. You lightly touch his sleeve, silently assuring him you’d listen if he chose to talk about it. Javier glances down at your hand, expression apologetic, like he’s upset with himself for exposing his vulnerable side, and it breaks your heart.

“It’s just one of the hazards of being the DEA Country Attaché,” he says, mimicking you from earlier. “Making more enemies than friends.”

You bite your lip, the words that’s not fair burning a hole in your throat. Javier has his own flaws like the rest of the world—he’s too stubborn, too caring, too dedicated—but instead of vilifying him, you think they make him all the more profoundly human. 

And fuck if he doesn’t deserve so much more than a life spent chasing down narcos. 

“Hey,” you say at last, aiming to lighten up the somber mood by playfully waving one of the labels in front of his face. “You wanna be someone different tonight? I could use the assist.” 

Your efforts are rewarded with a smirk as Javier grabs the paper and says, “If you wanted my help, tesoro, all you had to do was ask.”

~~

Most people who visit the mailroom are stopping by to either pick up or drop off mail. They never linger long, popping in and out in mere seconds. Sometimes they might stress their letter’s importance, demanding it be sent ASAP, or they might complain their package hasn’t arrived yet, somehow reaching the conclusion you and your fellow mail clerks are to blame. 

For as many people stop by though, nobody ever cares enough to remember your name. In their eyes, you’re not someone worth noticing, let alone remembering. And honestly you don’t do much to try and change that opinion because you know it’d be a pointless endeavor. Some status quos just can’t be changed.

When Stechner visits today, he immediately sets off all your internal alarms by the casual way he saunters into the room, posture relaxed with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. You subtly watch him over the top of your computer, reluctant to leave your desk and lose the defensive barrier of separation.

The bearded man ignores your presence, pulling out a letter from his slot and tearing it open wordlessly. He doesn’t seem to care he has an audience, leaning his back against the organizer and scanning the letter’s contents, expression giving away no hints as to whether it’s good news or bad. 

You continue watching for a few more seconds before it starts to feel awkward since he’s not technically doing anything overly suspicious, prompting you to return to your work. 

You’ve barely finished typing a sentence before he breaks the silence, his tone dry and bland, “So...How are things with Agent Peña?”

Although your eyes remain fixed on the screen, your shoulders tense beneath your clothes, giving away your uneasiness. 

“You’ve kissed him, right?” he continues, slipping the letter back in its envelope and tucking it away inside his green blazer’s inner pocket. “Several times now, I reckon. The Javier I know isn’t a man of patience.” 

There is a pause and out of the corner of your eye you catch the way his head tilts, as if he’s thinking hard about something, but every instinct you have is screaming it’s just an act. That this is some kind of twisted CIA negotiation tactic meant to cause you to spill your guts. 

“Now I can’t be certain, but I’d bet the Javier you know is not the same man I do. Yours probably hasn’t told you anything about his involvement with the vigilante group Los Pepes and how it nearly cost him his career.” Another drawn out pause, adding more weight to the thick tension in the air. You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe, to ignore the sensation of nails being hammered into your heart, bleeding it dry. 

“All I know for sure is Javier is the fuck-‘em-and-leave-‘em type. He doesn’t stick around for relationships. But don’t just take my word for it, honey, ask him about his fiancée he left at the altar. Or,” he points his finger in the air, stepping closer to your desk despite your shoulders curling with discomfort, “better yet, ask him about Katie—the beautiful brunette archivist who assists the DEA department? Rumor mill would suggest they got to know each other quite well his first night here, if you catch my drift.”

Unfortunately, you do.

You sit up straighter and finally lift your gaze to meet his, forcing your lips to stretch into a polite smile. “In case you’ve forgotten, this is the embassy’s mailroom, sir, and I’m on shift at the moment. If you have something you’d like mailed, I can help you. If not, I kindly request you see yourself out.”

Stechner doesn’t laugh or smile, yet you still get the impression he’s amused with the situation. Maybe it’s the glint in his dark eyes, sharp as a knife, trying to cut you apart and play with the vulnerabilities he finds hidden inside. He heads for the door without argument, each step of increasing distance gradually loosening the stiffness of your spine. 

Exhaling a quiet sigh, you wiggle your fingers, preparing to start typing again, only for Stechner to stop at the doorway, tossing one last parting remark over his shoulder.

“Hope there’s no hard feelings between us, tesoro. I’m just trying to spare you a broken heart.” 

~~

Part of your job is to have a keen sense of observation. It helps you match names with faces when you make your delivery rounds. 

So you already know where to find Katie and her cubicle when you set out with your cart. She often receives letters from her sister living back in New York, and Katie is one of the rare few kind enough to actually say thank you whenever you drop them off. Before Stechner’s visit yesterday, you didn’t think much about Katie besides the fact she’s one of the few female staff members that can be found in the DEA department. 

But now, seeing her there talking on the phone, wavy brown hair draped over her shoulders as she scribbles down notes, you’re struck with an arrow of envy. 

It’s an ugly and childish feeling, but you can’t help it. You’re envious she caught Javier’s attention first and you’re envious of her visibility. If you were the bookworm and Javier was the quarterback in the stupid analogy your brain invented, then Katie would be the head cheerleader. 

And of course even if you attended the dance with Javier, Katie and him would still be crowned the prom king and queen. Nobody else could dare compete against them, least of all you.

A door to your right is yanked open, startling you, and you turn towards the sound with wide eyes. Javier is leaving one of the soundproof audio rooms, looking equal amounts frustrated and serious, like he’s committed himself to doing something but isn’t the least bit happy about what that something is. Before the door slams shut, you see Stoddard inside slipping on headphones. His expression isn’t a particularly happy one either.

You’re reluctant to bother Javier, especially when he’s clearly stressed out about the burdens of his job, but when you push your cart the front left wheel lets out a piercing shriek of protest, reverberating in the ears of everyone in the vicinity and eliciting a series of winces. 

You cringe with embarrassment, deeply aware of the judgmental stares of more than a dozen people, and call out a weak, “Sorry!”

Javier’s at your side in the next heartbeat, sparing you further discomfort by shielding you from their eyes before he snaps at them to get back to work. You let out a quiet breath of relief, giving the handlebar a brief squeeze to get rid of the nervous energy thrumming in your veins.

“Thank you,” you say quietly when he turns to look at you. “This cart likes to make my life hell at the worst of times.”

The concern doesn’t dissipate in his gaze. “Are you okay, tesoro? You seem…” he trails off, searching your face for an answer and struggling to find one. You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself not to squirm. “Did something happen?”

You open your mouth, then immediately close it again because what are you supposed to say? Stechner tossed you a bomb and now you’re trying to pick up the broken pieces, trying to assemble them into something that makes sense. But how do you explain that to Javier? How do you tell him you’re terrified he’s stringing you along just to leave you after you’re another notch on his bedpost?

“I’m just tired,” you say instead, pasting on a small smile. “It’s been a long day.”

Javier doesn’t answer at first. He just purses his lips and nods his head once, twice. “Take care of yourself. I—” he clears his throat, glancing away. “The embassy needs you.”

Your smile widens, becoming a genuine one despite your warring emotions. “I’ll be okay, Javi,” you tell him, not knowing who you’re trying to reassure more: Javier or yourself.

~~

The morning is hot without a single cloud in the sky, and Riley’s running thirty minutes late, and there’s an abundance of mail to sort through before you can even think about taking a bite of your breakfast granola bar.

But there’s also a thick, yellow envelope on your desk with your name neatly written across its front. You hesitate to open it, finding its existence more than a little strange. Despite working in the mailroom, receiving any personal mail is a rarity for you. And if you do receive something, it’s usually from your mother and the writing on the yellow envelope definitely does not match her distinctive chicken scratch.

So, what the hell is it?

Curiosity aroused, you rip it open and discover its contents to be a stack of black-and-white photographs. A sticky note is stuck on top with the words Tried to warn you written in bold, black ink and underlined twice. Pulling off the note reveals a man and woman sitting at a bar. 

The woman is a stranger to you. Fair-haired with pale complexion and delicate features. Young and pretty, listening intently to the handsome man sitting next to her.

He is not a stranger to you. But with every picture you flip through showing him smiling and leaning in close towards the woman, you find yourself wishing he was one. If only to ease the hurt of your heart crumbling into pieces. If only so you didn’t recognize that he was wearing that same outfit earlier this week when you talked with him outside the audio room.

If only so you didn’t know he was Javier at all.

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