#and having to restart every time someone enters the room is extremely not good for my work speed

[thehardboiledham]

.

[likearmor]

do i wanna know? - draco malfoy

summary: typical enemies to lovers with draco malfoy and gryffindor! reader.

words: 2.8k

warning(s): SMUT, cursing,

(draco and reader aged up to 18)

if there's one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you absolutely despised draco malfoy.

and it wasn’t the normal slytherin and gryffindor rivalry, no, it was worse than that. even your friends said that you hated draco even more than harry potter did, and that was saying something. 

“he’s just an egotistical prick. he doesn’t care about anyone from himself, I swear, if he wasn’t all up snape’s ass I would punch him into oblivion,” you said to your group of friends, walking up the moving stairs back to the gryffindor common room for your free period before lunch. 

on your way there, hermione met up with you, ron, and harry and overheard your conversation. “what did he do this time?” she asked, sighing to herself that the conversation had turned to draco yet again. 

“breathed in her direction,” ron joked, earning a hit to the shoulder from you. “hey! sorry, sorry.” harry laughed from beside you, making you hit him in the shoulder too. 

“you guys are so mean, no, he did not just breath in my direction. he messed up my whole potion, put something in it while I had my back turned. snape made me restart it,” you explained. your three friends nodded, not deciding to argue with you because there was no point in trying to change your mind. its not like they liked him either, though sometimes they thought he didn’t deserve all of your wrath. 

~

you were sitting down on one of the fuzzy comfy chairs in the common room going over some of your history of magic notes with hermione when the two boys came down from the boys’ dorms. ron dropped a chocolate frog on your lap. “thanks,” you muttered, popping it into your mouth and humming at the good taste. you and ron lived for the sweets at honeydukes and you always shared stuff with each other. 

“you guys want to go to some slytherin party?” harry asked, sitting down on the floor underneath you.

hermione winced. “why would we go to a slytherin party?” it’s not like your group was one for going to parties in the first place. “plus, wouldn’t they get busted by snape or someone in the slytherin common room? how would we even get in there?” 

“calm down,” harry said to hermione. “you worry too much sometimes ‘moine. it’s in the room of requirement so only the people who know about it can go. teachers wont find it at all even if they wanted to, top secret.” 

you shut your textbook and set it down on the floor. “sure, why not?” you said, looking at the clock. “what time is it at?” 

your friends looked at you with concern. ron even stopped eating his every flavored beans to give you a concerned look. hermione’s eyes were open wide and harry turned around to look at you. “what?” you asked. 

“you really just volunteered to go to a slytherin party?” ron said. 

“so what?” 

“you, y/n, someone who hates slytherins more than anyone else I've ever known, wants to go to a slytherin party?” ron asked again. “no, doesn’t make sense. you have to be a clone or something.” 

you rolled your eyes. “shut up, I only hate one slytherin. and there will be loads of people there, I probably wont even see him there. c’mon, lets go have fun. it might be more fun than you guys think.”

everyone agreed, even hermione who you thought was just going to stay in and get some of her homework done. soon enough, you were up in the girls’ dorms to get ready for the party. you put on a white sweater and some black jeans, hair coming up in a half down half up style. you looked hot. 

you made sure that hermione also looked hot, you even convinced her to wear a shorter black top. now all you had to do was meet the boys and make your way down to the room of requirement. it was friday and you wanted to party. maybe it would be fun and maybe it would help you let loose after this stressful couple of weeks. 

you walked down with your group to the enterance of the room of requirement, seeing the door appear the second that you got there. making sure that the coast was clear, you all scurried into the busy room. there was shouting and conversations over some loud music in the big room. you could see loads of different people from every type of house. 

“im gonna go look for a drink,” ron said, pushing past you and getting lost in the sea of people. you walked with hermione to the farthest edge of the party. from there you guys leaned against one of the stone walls. in your line of vision, you could see people like seamus finnegan and dean thomas dancing with lavender brown, pulling in harry to dance along with them. 

hermione struck up a conversation with some hufflepuff boy beside you. “hey, im gonna go get something to drink too,” you said to her. you pushed off the wall and made your way towards the drink stand. 

from behind you, you heard someone say, “I didn’t think that I'd see you here.”

draco malfoy. just the person you didn't want to see. 

“what do you want, malfoy,” you said, not even turning around to look at him. you kept making your way for the drinks, hoping that you would loose him in the crowd or he would get too bored to mess with you. “don’t you have some hole to crawl back into?”

he laughed. “no, just wanted to see what the hell you’re doing here, y/n. this is my party, I thought I knew all the guests coming and I just saw you come in with potter and his lot.” you reached the table with the drinks and poured some firewhiskey into a disposable cup. 

draco finally reached you and stood across the table. he was wearing a typical black dress shirt and pants, his slytherin tie loosely fitted around his neck. in the back of your mind you thought about how good he looked, but the second that you thought it you wanted to punch yourself in the face for ever thinking something like that. especially about draco malfoy. 

“you don’t know everything about me,” you said to him, a tone of aggression lacing your words. “you know, im not that predictable.” 

“I beg to differ. you hang out with potter and his lot, you’re a high and mighty gryffindor, and you hate slytherins.” 

you laughed, downright laughed at his accusations, downing your drink and pouring yourself another. you could feel the alcohol burn in your throat and settle in your stomach. it wouldn’t take long before you started to feel the affects of it as well. “I don’t hate slytherins, I just hate you, malfoy,” you yelled over the shouting of peoples conversations. “see? you’re wrong.” 

“well then, what do you think of me?” draco asked. 

you walked up to him, setting down your drink and getting all up close and personal. you could feel his breath fanning onto your face as you leaned closer to meet his line of vision. “I think that . . .” you started, jabbing your finger into his chest, “that you’re an egotistical, obnoxious, slytherin prick. who pokes fun at people to get a rouse out of them just for your entertainment.” 

draco’s grey eyes stared into yours with an intensity you have never seen before. it made your knees feel weak as you stood up to him. “wow,” he said. “you really know how to party with all this psychology don’t you?” 

“oh, I know how to party,” you argued. 

draco cocked an eyebrow up. “really? show me then, come dance.” 

“why would I ever dance with you?” you asked. 

draco didn’t respond, only taking a shot of his drink and stretching a hand open for you to take it. a few moments passed by as you weighed your options. you could laugh in his face and leave, spill your drink on him and then leave . . . or you could take his offer. you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol about to take affect or if you were just feeling risky (probably both in the scheme of things), but you downed the rest of your tall drink and took his hand. 

he led you to the dance floor where most of the drunken kids were swaying to the beat of the loud music. the second you got a rhythm set up, you turned your back to him and swished your hips around. you couldn’t see his face, but he seemed to enjoy it because of his hands that rested on either side of you two seconds later. 

it felt good to finally let loose for a while, and if felt even better not trying to keep yourself together. it was easier tolerating draco than actually hating him. not to mention, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, he was looking even more hotter than he was a couple minutes ago. 

“what are you staring at?” he asked you, pulling you closer. 

you hummed. “nothing.”

draco opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by saying, “christ, you talk to much.” 

you pulled his face towards you and kissed him, long and hard. he tasted like firewhiskey and a hint of peppermint and his cologne tempted you in for more. the second you pulled away to take some air, he was pushing in for more. you happily obliged, turning the kiss into an open mouth one. it wasn’t just a normal kiss either, you wanted draco. hell, you felt like you needed draco. and it felt even more extreme because to everyone else, you hated him. but that wasn’t what you really felt for him. you didn’t know what your feelings were for draco. 

it took a little bit of convincing on his friends’ part to allow for draco to leave, but after finally getting him to pull away from the party, both of you spared no time to get out of the room of requirement. you guys practically ran to the dungeons to the slytherin common room, your hands reaching up to undo his tie and buttons while he put in the password. 

no one was in there because virtually every slytherin was at the party, so no one heard your giggles as he picked you up and led to you his dorm. you giggled all the way there, feeling your back hit his bed. 

“who would’ve known I would have y/n l/n in my bed,” draco muttered, helping you take off his shirt and throwing it to the opposite side of the room. 

you laughed, pulling up your shirt over your head and making it join his on the floor. “don’t take this the wrong way malfoy, but I still hate you.”

“we’ll see about that.” 

once both of you were properly in your undergarments, draco laid on top of you, his lips reattaching to yours in a searing kiss. his hands rubbed your sides up and down, gripping your skin. you could feel his cold rings on your skin and it made you crave him, feeling the heat between your thighs get even more intense. 

your hands reached down to push his boxers down, but draco’s met yours and swatted them away, putting them back on his back. at first you were going to pull him away to ask why, though you didn’t have the chance when one of his hands delved into the front of your panties. 

the second that his fingers hit your clit you were moaning into his mouth, pressing your hips up to meet his hand. you could hear him snicker a little bit, just a second ago you were saying you hated him and here he was making you keel into his touch. a second later he was kissing along your jawline, making his way down to your neck and sucking. “I can’t have hickeys, malfoy,” you said through shortened breaths. 

“too bad, princess,” draco said against your neck, pushing a finger into you and making a ‘come here’ motion with it. your back arched and you breathed in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as he pushed in and out, eventually adding a second finger too. his wet kisses trailed all around your neck, stopping in a few places to give you some marks. 

the way that he was making you feel . . . it was surreal. it was making you feel like you were alive. even if it was just going to be for this moment, all you wanted to think about was draco malfoy. 

“fuck, draco,” you moaned, feeling his fingers hit just the right spot to make your toes clench. his thumb came up and pressed against your clit, which almost sent you over the edge. it was almost embarrassing at how easily he could make you come undone, but you were enjoying it too much to care. 

as soon as you were about to cum, his fingers pulled out of you, and he looked up at you to give you a devilish smirk. “not yet,” he said, giving you a kiss on the cheek and pulling his boxers down onto the floor. you took the time to look him over, seeing how hot he looked in the moment. his blonde hair was disheveled and his cheeks were a little red from the lack of air, and the second you looked down your eyes widened. he was big. probably the biggest you had ever had. 

“are you sure about this?” draco asked, stopping for a moment at what you two were about to do. you bit your lip, taking a few moments to take it all in. “because if you don’t, you don’t have to. . .”

you nodded, stopping what he was saying. “yes, I do.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. the second that he pushed into you, your eyes widened and an elongated moan came out from between your lips. draco also made a noise, which sounded so hot that you were sure would be etched into your brain for the days to come. 

he went at a steady pace, thrusting into you rhythmically with an intensity you had never felt before. of course he was good at this. “right there,” you said, back arching as his hands stayed pressed against your hips to keep you in place. 

you were already really close from his fingers, so it didn’t take you too long to get back into things. 

“you’re taking me so well,” draco said, going at a little bit of a faster pace. he rutted his hips against you that you knew that there would be marks there in the morning. he came down and kissed you again, his tongue pressing into yours and exploring your mouth. 

you gasped. “im not going to last much longer.” 

“then cum,” draco said, motioning his hips around in a circular motion. his hand also came down to play with your clit, which sent you right over the edge. your head came back as you moaned, riding out the rest of your orgasm. not even two thrusts later he was also coming undone, pulling out and doing it on your stomach. 

both of you stayed there with each other gasping for breath, your skin sticking to his from the sweat. draco finally got up and went to the bathroom that was connected to the room, coming back with a washcloth in his hand and pulling his boxers back up. he cleaned your stomach, throwing the cloth into a hamper with his clothes in it and laying down next to you again. 

you couldn’t believe that you had just fucked your sworn enemy. 

and you couldn’t believe that it was the best sex you had ever had in your entire life. 

fuck. 

“I should go,” you said to him, standing up and searching for your clothes on the floor. you put them on quickly, watching him sit up on his elbows and look at you. “if anyone sees me in here they’ll have a cow.” 

“is that the only reason? or because you hate me?” he put air quotes around ‘hate me’.

“fuck off malfoy,” you said, brushing out your hair with your fingers and going towards the door. 

you heard draco laugh. “I'll see you again, yeah?” 

you stopped in your tracks at his words, still facing the door. you could feel your knees quiver at the opportunity of doing this again with him. it was tempting, thats for sure. but you had to get your priorities straight before then. or find someone else, because it was draco malfoy. not just some random guy. 

“if you’re lucky, draco,” you said, opening the door and shutting it, leaving him in his dorm and going to make some excuse to your friends as to where you had been. 

[wagner-fell]

I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey

(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)

“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.

Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”

Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.

To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.

Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.

Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.

Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.

“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.

“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.

She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”

Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”

Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.

Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”

Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”

‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.

“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”

Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”

Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”

Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.

All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.

Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”

“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.

“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”

“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.

After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.

They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.

“Did you bring the shit?”

Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”

“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”

“The shadowhunter thing?”

“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”

“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”

Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”

“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.

“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.

“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”

She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”

“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”

She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.

“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.

Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.

“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.

“Does Blessica know?”

She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”

Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”

She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”

“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”

Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”

“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”

Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.

“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.

“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”

Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”

It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.

That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”

“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.

He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”

“Say the magic word,” she sang.

“Please?”

“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”

Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”

She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.

@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters

Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.

[castleshadows]

For As Long As We Could

Casteel has spent the last seven years inside, afraid of stepping out into the world once again. But, when Elashya dies, he finally decides to face his fears to support Kieran in his grief.

CW: Major Character Death

Written June 17, 2021

Casteel watched as the funeral procession made its way past his window, the sky outside trying its best to match the mood with gloomy white clouds that promised a drizzle later in the day. Similarly, the small crowd was cloaked in white, the color of mourning. Only the dead’s closest family and partners wore anything decorative, a small white lily pinned to the breast to represent the innocence restored to the soul of the departed.

He could pick out Kieran easily in the gathering, holding the back right corner of the casket. To anyone else he looked like he had his head tucked against the wind as everyone else did, but Casteel knew him better than that. No, his friend was crying, judging on the way his shoulders shook every couple seconds. It was a surprise to see him so vulnerable in front of that many people, but Cas didn’t judge him for it. In fact, it was a relief to see him finally show some semblance of emotion. The wolven had been so… stoic the past few days. Elashya had been the first bright light in his life in a long time, and that light had gone out so quickly, that it had left Kieran in a state of disrepair so great that he sought to hide it from everyone around him. Including his bonded.

The wind picked up a bit and somebody's hat went flying. Nobody so much as glanced in the object direction as they continued on with their dreary parade through the streets. Casteel could see the graveyard in the distance, and the hole in which Elashya would forever reside. He knew Kieran saw it too by the way the wolven started shaking. Someone beside him, whom Casteel had never seen before, put their hand on Kieran’s shoulder, rubbing it and comforting him until he seemed to calm a bit.

A rogue bit of jealousy flashed through him, and Casteel worked to control it. He and Kieran loved each other very much. Before his… capture, outsiders looking at their relationship would’ve thought they hated each other. They had been constantly at each out, swinging fists at faces for the most minor things. They still loved each other though. Nothing would change that. However, fifty years of two different kinds of torture had changed them both, and he felt like he hardly knew his dearest friend, his partner in crime, anymore. He wanted to get to know him again, badly. But, every time he tried to step even a toe outside of his current comfort zone, something in his mind convinced him that he would end up back in that cage again, being raped and brutalized, his body nor his blood his own.

Casteel shook his head, yanking himself away from that train of thought before he could board it. It had been nearly three months since he’d had a panic attack, and he didn’t wish to restart that timer.

Cas’s eyes left the window and trailed around the small room. When he’d returned, seven years ago almost to the day, he didn’t want to stay in his old rooms. They reminded him too much of her. Every time he set foot in the bedroom he could clearly see her lying on the bed, waiting for him to return. Every time he peeked his head into the bathroom he saw her in the shower, beckoning him to join as she washed her long golden locks. Every time he smelled her leftover scent in the sheets that had not been washed in fifty-seven years, he wanted to vomit. So, he’d requested a different room, one that didn’t feel so big and empty, and one that she had never set foot in.

His gaze snagged on the small wardrobe in the corner, and he pushed his chair back from the desk walking silently over the wood floors. He stopped in front of the cabinet and slowly opened the fancily embellished doors. They creaked slightly, the sound deafening in the quiet room. Inside were all the clothes he’d worn for the past seven years. Ten tunics, ten pairs of breeches, ten pairs of socks, four belts, three coats, two cloaks and a set of boots that were worn and practically falling apart. All of which were some variation of white, brown, or black. Not the most fitting outfits for a Prince, but something about the routine of it comforted him.

He selected a white tunic, the lightest color breeches he had—a sort of light beige—and a black belt. It wasn’t even close to being appropriate for a funeral, but he didn’t have anything formal and white, so these would have to do. Potentially he could borrow some clothes from Kieran’s closet, or some old ones from Jasper, but he was already going outside for the first time in quite a while, and he didn’t know if he could handle more than one new thing at a time.

Casteel shucked off his soft, stretchy trousers and pulled on the light beige ones. He pulled the tunic over his head and buttoned it up, tucking the fabric into his pants. Glancing out the window, he noticed that the parade was near the cemetery. He would have to hurry if he were to make it on time.

Without thinking much about it, Casteel threw open the door to his chambers and stepped out into the cool hallway. He took a minute to let the reality of what he was about to do sink in. Anxiety bubbled up, but he quickly shoved it down, refusing to let his fear get in the way of what Kieran needed. He was going to be there for his brother if it was the last thing he did. A small voice in the back of his tried to convince him it would be, and he paused, letting the voice take over for a minute. And then he was flying down the hallway, not an all out run, but pretty damn close. Slow and steady wasn’t going to cut it here. It was going to be either all at once or not at all.

The walls were a blur as he sprinted through the large estate. There were usually very few visitors at this time of year, and Kirha and Jasper rarely employed servants, so the halls were quiet and empty.

Casteel slowed down near the stairs, trying desperately not to trip. Nothing took the dignity out of one's re-enter into the world like falling face-first down the stairs.

“Casteel?”

He paused, foot poised above the ground, hand white-knuckling the railing. Turning his head, he met the teary gaze of Kirha Contou. Unlike Casteel, she had known Elashya quite well, and being Kirha, had practically claimed the wolven as one of her own. It was no surprise that she was nearly as upset as Kieran was.

“I didn’t expect you to be out at this time,” she said, her voice soft as if she was afraid she might scare him away. Casteel was afraid he might be scared away too. “Do you need something?”

The silence was the loudest he’d ever heard. He wanted to answer her, but something in him froze. The large parlor suddenly seemed extremely daunting, not to mention outside, where the sky was open and there were no walls to keep him safe. He would have nothing except for the clothes on his back and his own frail body, that still hadn’t built up even a third of the muscle he used to have. Casteel stepped back, away from the door, away from the outside world.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t do this.

“Cas?” Kirha said again. Her expression was one of love, and she held her hand out in front of her, coming towards him. “I was heading to Elashya’s funeral. Would you like to come?” She cocked her head waiting for an answer.

Steeling himself, he tentatively placed his hand in hers. Casteel would force himself to go if he must. Kieran needed him, and he would be there for his brother. It also helped that Kirha would walk there with him. A comforting presence if he should need it, and he had a feeling he would.

The first steps outside were stressful to say the least, but he kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead, and refused to let himself look at the empty, open sky, or even glance at the few civilians that gawked at him along the street. Eventually he felt their eyes find other places to land on, and he felt a bit lighter, each step less of a challenge than the one before.

Kirha stood by his side the entire time, leading him through what they both knew as the least crowded areas of the city.

Too soon for comfort, the graveyard was in view, and Casteel could see the large amount of people gathered in the middle. It seemed that the eulogy’s had already started and as they grew nearer, he could hear the end of an older man’s speech being delivered. He looked like he could be her father, and it was confirmed when he referenced the dead as his daughter.

Kirha led him through the makeshift pews towards Jasper and their youngest daughter, Vonetta, who waved shyly at him. Kieran sat in the second row just ahead of them, and he seemed to sense Casteel’s prescenese, tensing and turning around to meet his gaze.

His eyes were teary, and there were water tracks all down his cheeks, but he did his best to smile when he saw Casteel, mouthing a quiet “thank you”. Cas nodded to the wolven and then looked towards the podium, where a Priestess stepped up and called the next speaker forward.

“Kieran Contou, partner of the deceased.”

All eyes turned to his brother, and Kieran stood, shakily making his way to the front and thanking the Priestess for the introduction. He stepped up onto the podium and then seemed to freeze, droplets of water starting to build up in his eyes.

Kieran gripped the speech in his hands, looking over the crowd as if they were his death sentence. Tears spilled down his face and Casteel could feel Kirha tense beside him. She very obviously wanted to go to her son, but didn’t know how he would react. He couldn’t blame her. Kieran’s feelings were confusing on a good day, and today was very much not a good day.

Without thinking about what he was going to do, Casteel stood up. Immediately all eyes were on him, but he forced himself to ignore them all except the ones that belonged to his best friend. He made his way out of the aisle, trying not to step on anyone’s feet while still meeting Kieran’s gaze.

He didn’t really remember the walk to the front, only the way his bonded’s eyes, usually full of amusement or boredom or absolute apathy, were completely raw. A window directly into his soul. His friend was vulnerable and practically ripped open for the world to see. And, Casteel couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Do you want me to?” he asked softly, holding out one hand for the piece of paper that contained the handwritten speech.

Kieran looked down at the page and then back at Casteel and repeated the action. Eventually he nodded, shaking as he handed it to his friend. The wolven moved to leave, but Cas wrapped his arm around his shoulders pulling him close and waiting until he relaxed in his grip to speak.

Clearing his throat, Casteel began.

“I did not know Elashya well,” he started in his own words, his voice ringing out stronger and clearer than he’d anticipated, “She and I did not see each other very often and when we did I am ashamed to say that I did not make much of an effort to become acquainted with her… But I can see very clearly from the crowd gathered here today that she was much loved, and I have been told of her kindness and her warm, magnetic personality by my best friend and brother, Kieran Contou.”

The wolven beside him let out a choked sob, and several people in the crowd started to cry along with him. Casteel hugged him tighter.

“I know that he loved her very much, and it is with this love in mind that I read his speech for you today,” he unfolded the piece of paper and started to read about the woman he’d never known, but now wish he had met, “Elashya Fraiser was a bright light in my life—in all our lives—and one that was snuffed out much too quickly… She had such a long life to live, so many things she wanted to do that she was not able to. But I know that if she were here now she would scold me for being so depressing.”

The crowd did not laugh, but several gave small smiles, each remembering something about the deceased. Caseteel paused for a moment, letting the words sink in, and then continued.

“So I will try during this speech not to mourn the life she did not live, but celebrate the one she had,” Casteel watched as many nodded in agreement, “I remember when I first met her. It was at a time when my life was filled with shadows, but they scattered at the first bright smile I saw on her face. That was one of the many things I loved about her. She was always smiling, always looking for a silver lining on every cloud. Her smiles were beautiful, and they made me feel warm inside every time I caught a glimpse.”

He remembered when Shea’s smiles had done that for him. When every glance she made his way made his very soul soar.

“I know what you’re thinking. Every man in love has something cheesy to say about their love’s smile, but Elashya’s was like hot cocoa and a warm blanket on a cold night. Everything about her felt like coming home.”

He had not known Elashya, but his friend's beautiful words made it feel like he had. She sounded like a lovely person, and he really did regret not getting to know her.

“She lit up every room without fail, and made it seem effortless. Even in the last days of her life she stayed positive. Even as her loved ones crowded, teary-eyed, around her bed, saying their final goodbyes, she was able to send them away smiling. Still sad, but at least reassured that she would be okay in the next life. And she will be,” Casteel paused to read the next line, and almost laughed out loud. Even in tough times Kieran found a way to be sarcastic, “If anyone can find something good in being dead it’s Elashya.”

This time there were a couple teary chuckles. Even without looking up, Casteel could sense that many people were in a deep state of nostalgia. He could tell Kieran was too. The wolven had stopped sobbing and though there were still tears running down his cheeks, they were ones not of sorrow, but of a bittersweet kind of feeling. Casteel turned his attention back to the page.

“I’m sorry that my speech is so short, for I fear that if I write any more I will not be able to stop. There is so much about her that I want to share, so much I want to say about the one I loved. The one I still love with all my heart. But, there is a time limit on these, so I will say just one more thing.”

Casteel had told himself at the beginning that he would get through this speech without shedding tears, but reading what Kieran had written about the woman he’d loved was making it pretty damn difficult. He had a way with words that Casteel would never be able to even attempt. And the speech was a painful reminder that he hardly knew anything anymore about his best friend. Kieran had been in love for the first time for the gods sake and he hadn’t been there for him.

Something nudged his side and Casteel opened eyes he hadn’t realized were closed. He blinked away the slight wetness that had been gathering and looked to Kieran, who poked him again.

“Sorry,” he whispered only loud enough for his friend to hear. Kiearn nodded and gestured back to the speech.

“Can I finish?” he rasped.

Casteel handed the page to him, directing him towards where he left off and a second later Kieran was speaking slowly, but surely.

“Elashya and I knew from the moment we fell in love that the end could come any day,” his voice wavered a bit, but he waved Casteel away when he tried to take over, “We knew that it was possible she would die, and I must admit there were times I felt myself falling into hopelessness. There were times where I was tempted to save myself from despair, for I am selfish, and I won’t pretend otherwise.”

Casteel wasn’t sure where this notion came from that he was selfish, for the wolven was one of the most loyal and loving people he knew. But, he didn’t interrupt, only made a mental note to later remind Kieran of the love he held inside him.

“But every moment I was with her has made it worth it. All the pain I have felt the last few weeks has been worth it, and I would endure a million more years of it if it meant I could see her just one last time.”

Casteel felt the same way about Shea. He was deeply ashamed of it, but he could not pretend he didn’t feel the way he felt. He would do anything to have just one more moment with her before. Before she decided she didn’t love him enough to stay with him until the end. But, maybe there was no before. Maybe she’d never felt that way for him. Maybe she’d been stringing him along the entire time. A tear fell out of the corner of his eye, and made a track down his cheek.

“I do not regret a thing and I know she didn’t either. I know that she is watching me now, and I hope that she is proud of me for trying to be at least somewhat optimistic. I admit I’m rather bad at it,” he paused, smiling a bit at his own writing, “But I know that if I were somehow taken back in time with all the knowledge of the heartbreak I was to endure, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Kieran then looked up, meeting the eyes of everyone in the crowd and setting down the card. The tears in his eyes were coming back in full force and he took a deep breath, looking behind him at that coffin poised beside the empty grave. He looked… he looked lost, but like there was hope that he could be found again. Then, with visible effort he turned away, and held his head high delivering the last line of his speech.

“Because the heart doesn’t care how long you may have someone… It just cares that you have the person for as long as you can.”

[writearctic]

An Effort to Love (a) (m) - Seo Changbin

wc: 1.2k

please remember that you deserve the effort you give. if love turns lonely, let it go.

When Changbin entered your apartment, he found you peacefully asleep under the covers. He smiled and sighed; you were pure innocence to him. He always found himself returning to you when he needed to refresh.

A return to reality. No extremities. Just you and him. Good, clean sex as a restart from his line of quickies. His typical one night stands were good- fantastic when compared to your simplicity- and it made him feel alive. But the women he'd meet always wanted more.

Not you. You weren't expecting something from him. It was nothing more than sex. No strings attached. Because it was just simply you. You couldn't ever love him.

He sat at your bedroom desk and stared at your night light. Changbin was never one for relationships, but with you, he always found himself coming back even if just for the night.

His fingers began tapping the desktop anxiously. He had been away for a while. Changbin had been avoiding you: keeping himself busy sleeping around with other girls. Now, here he was. Back to his best friend. Or rather, friend with benefits.

You stirred in your sleep; Changbin turned to you but kept his fingers clicking on the desk. You heard the faint beatings and sat up rubbing your eyes.

"Bin," you croaked. There was a quick, rigid silence between you. "Hi." You didn't intend for Changbin to hear the difference in your tone. Your voice was much softer and almost breakable the second time.

"You're well?" He asked as an offer to fill the silent space. Changbin never fully looked at you anymore; it was always quick glances here and there. You couldn't complain though. You wouldn't complain in fear of losing him.

"Mhm yeah. How are you?" You placed your hands in your lap effortlessly and twiddled your thumbs in circles.

"I'm fine. Been to lots of new places lately," he chuckled.

"Oh? Like-"

"There's this new girl, Rosie, and oh my gosh. She gave me the best blow I've ever had." Changbin leaned back in your desk chair and closed his eyes obviously trying to relive the moment.

You were disgusted. Changbin had never talked about a girl with you before- you figured he respected your boundaries about his hobbies- but finally hearing him mention someone in such perverted regards enraged you.

It angered you because he may have found someone to stay. Someone who wasn't you.

You clenched your hands around the blanket- white knuckles.

"Oh and she has a room mate who-"

His voice faded. You couldn't make out the words from his mouth. You stared at him with glossy eyes hoping he'd look at you like he used to. But no. The short passes of his eyes continued to drift away from you. I don't even know you anymore, you realized.

"Changbin!" You shouted and threw your hands on your comforter with a plop.

"Hu-hm?" You startled him; Changbin was nervous. He finally faced you completely. It was still dark aside from your night light, but you could see him fairly well. And he saw you much the same.

The luminescent light framed his face perfectly; it made you see features about him you haven't noticed before. His lashes were shining from the natural oils that covered them. His skin glowed softly in an ethereal way. It was gentle like moon.

"Do you ever think about maybe staying around with me like you used to?" Your voice was normal now, but the tone was sharp. Even speaking to him like that made your eyes sting with tears.

"What?" Changbin scoffed at your question. "What do you mean 'like you used to?'" He crossed his arms defensively as if to shut you out.

"Like at the beginning of uni." You sounded pathetic but paid no mind to it. You were on a roll and determined to save the possibilities of what you two could be. "You know... when we'd have movie night every Thursday. And you'd walk me home after classes, ask about my day, or if I've eaten. Or even text me!"

He smirked. "Baby."

"Don't say that unless you understand what it means to me," you spat at him. You were certainly not like one of his late-night hook ups who fell for whatever tricks he gave.

He scoffed again. "I don't stick around. You, of all people, should know this best."

"I know, I do. But you used to spend time with me and make an effort to do so." You whined, and it pinched a nerve in the boy.

"Well, yeah. Cause it was your first year here," Changbin shrugged. "You needed a shoulder to lean on. Everyone does their first year. Truth is, y/n. I really wanted to stay friends with you. But then you grew up. Gosh, you're absolutely stunning now. And when you actually agreed to have sex with me? Oh my. It was like winning the lottery! You are simple in bed, and I love it when I need it. But that's kinda who we are now. I really didn't see a reason for us to be anything other than friends with benefits."

"What if I don't want that!?" You cried. The tears finally began pooling out of your eyes. Here he was, the man you've been crushing on for... well a while, saying you were nothing more than a use for "simple sex." You weren't even sure if that was an insult or not.

"What do you mean? You said 'yes' to sex with me." He asked. His eyebrows curled at your tearful response.

"Because I thought we'd be something more!"

It was quiet again, except for your small sobs which Changbin didn't seem to notice. He started the unrhythmic tapping of his fingers once more and became lost in thought. There's always strings attached, he noted to himself.

Your knuckles were white again as you clenched your fists against a pillow. You realized whenever you were with Changbin nowadays, your knuckles always turned white.

"I deserve to be chosen, not merely considered when you need to f*ck." Your eyes shot venom at him. His light tappings on the wood stopped abruptly. Your tone stung his heart just as much as it did yours. You were different now. You had grown up, and Changbin completely missed that detail.

"You're right." Changbin stood and collected his coat. "You're right," he echoed quietly.

"Wait, Bin." You stumbled out of bed and rushed to follow Changbin. "Don't leave, no. Please." You weren't crying anymore; you were heaving.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I've been using you. It's not right, and you know it." He shuffled to put his shoes on while you bit your inner cheek. "Thank you for showing me how much of a jerk I've been. I'm sorry; I need to go."

Changbin's fingers gripped the doorknob; he walked out of your life like you were nothing. You slumped to the floor in pain. You sent away the only friend you had at uni, even if you really weren't friends anymore.

"I shouldn't have said anything," you cried to the walls that trapped you. "I don't want to lose you." It was a whisper now. You were dehydrated from the spills of tears. Your nose was runny, and your lips were chapped. You were a mess because of the boy you should've loved just a little harder.

[artificialqueens]

hotel california. (gigi/jackie) — chapter one. - Roza

summary: jackie is a new immigrant to california in the late 70s after the explosion of the iranian revolution and meets gigi goode, a motorcyclist whose father owns the complex the persian is staying at for the next few months. what could possibly go wrong. [songfic based on hotel california]

author's note: thank you to all of jankie candle for being the best support and alex for being the best beta. ty guys for always loving this idea from the beginning, I hope you all enjoy and tumblr is @leljaaa as always xx

my tumblr: leljaaa / ao3 link / ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

— *.✧

August 25th 1978.

Jackie's hands ceased to move as she stood completely stone-faced, looking towards the windows of the Yeşilköy Airport in Istanbul.

Her eyes glanced around the larger-than-life interior of the building as she was left to stare at the small view of the water from the terminal gate her ticket has assigned her to be present in.

Water.

That's all that managed to separate Jackie from her motherland.

All of her childhood and current life was to be completely thrown away and restarted.

The storm clouds concerning the collapse of the entire country had gathered for almost an entire year. It didn't help that everyone was simply butting heads over how to properly come together to try and overthrow the reigning government in power.

The Pro-Western, secret-police-filled lavish monarchy was now, apparently, wanting to be replaced with a Anti-Western theocracy. It had been largely nonviolent, thankfully, and simply was massed with civil protests as well as marches and chants from various citizens.

But the revolution finally erupted when only six days ago, 500 citizens were burned to their demise in an intentional fire that started at a local movie theatre.

Outcry, screams, rallying on the streets.

Constant.

Jackie left her family, called her mother one last time and promised to try to communicate as much as she could when she finally reached the West.

Storming out of University she groaned, running for Istanbul with her one suitcase after she hugged her roommate goodbye. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she passed by the warm and friendly neighborhood cats in Tehran one last time.

She adjusted her long blue and white floral dress as she pulled on the tassels near her neckline, making an attempt to tighten the top of the outfit as she gasped, hearing the announcement in Turkish and English about her flight finally boarding the next class in line.

Los Angeles was the only destination she was able to find a decent price for, her main sights were set on Canada where they had vacationed before to see cousins and distant family. However, most Iranians were fleeing to the states, so much so that the number in colleges jumped up almost 40,000 people.

Arrangements for her housing were made over in a telephone booth nearly an hour ago as Jackie detailed her situation to the man who apparently owned one of the cheaper complexes in California.

It wasn't her first choice but it was certainly her only choice at the moment, especially when she was about to board a plane to the destination.

Is this the American dream? Telling a stranger my life story as I sob over a payphone?

They exchanged information and she was booked through the system as she had just barely enough money to cover her basic expenses and the down payment he spoke of.

All that money saved from new year celebrations, her birthday, college and her job as a waitress would barely even cover a good two weeks of rent.

Basic math showed that seventy Iranian rial only equated to a single US Dollar.

Luckily, being an English and Linguistics major she knew the language like the back of her hand even if she still slipped heavily into her accent while conversing.

She could at least try to find work with the skills she had under her belt.

I know French fluently in any worst case. I'm sure there's some posh, Parisian strolling around the malls of America I've heard described in my magazines.

"Thank you," she whispered in English as she gripped her pastel blue suitcase close to her chest, stepping past the flight attendant as she entered the covered bridge.

My whole life is now on hold.

— *.✧

"Morning Miss Goode," a gentle voice spoke as the blonde flipped her long hair and shut the door in front of her. She smiled seeing one of their long time visitors, Clarissa, sitting near the lounge of the apartment complex with Earth, Wind & Fire blaring across the radio.

"Good morning," she grinned as she gave her a hug, gently crouching as she tried to keep a smile while hugging the older woman, who was reading her daily newspaper.

Her denim jumpsuit was covered in oil stains as she wiped her face dabbed in sweat.

"Riding again?"

The twenty year old laughed, confirming the woman's suggestion and shrugging with a small smile painted across her lips as she tied her hair back, explaining that she was trying to see if her motorcycle had an oil leak, that was all.

"Just trying to work on the bike while I can."

Owning the complex was always some kind of burden and weight on her shoulders, though it wasn't the Ritz or a five star resort, she grew up knowing it was a deep part of her family history and she was next to own it and take over the business.

Go to University and study business, paid for by her parents, come home and expand the housing and see a surge in profit.

If this plan was the stairwell to Heaven, Gigi had completely turned around and jumped off backwards after hitting that first step.

Gigi could care less about education in a society where no one cared unless you were rich or singing the number one hit song charting on the radios.

She had barely gotten her high school diploma before she decided to drop out of community college, despite getting to live with her best friend since middle school, Crystal.

The redhead had been extremely anxious about the sudden separation, until she realized that the starving poor artist wasn't a good look for her or her family, who barely had enough means as it was.

Now they both worked at the complex for decent money, Crystal great with design and helping out with various projects concerning architecture or the new paint jobs for the inside of some of the rooms.

Gigi was often stuck at the front desk, or trying to mingle with confused or returning guests who took every chance to complain to the daughter of the owner whenever they possibly could.

She entered the door to her childhood home as she was immediately met with an uncertain stare directed her way.  

"Dad—" her lips pursed together as she was immediately stopped by her father who sighed, not even needing an explanation of where she was or what she partook in instead of her job at the front desk of the small hotel.

"Gigi! We talked about this, you have to focus on your job here and make your money's worth and not just ride your bike!"

"I know…" she pouted as she took a deep breath, saddling in for another long rant from her father. But her mom seemed to hear her inner prayers, walking by and rubbing her shoulders, insisting that Gigi was allowed to have some fun during these hot dull summer months.

"Thank you," she whispered as she was bestowed with a loving kiss upon her forehead, her mom holding her hand as she stepped over to the kitchen, asking if Gigi would like anything to drink.

"I'm good."

Her father seemed to ignore the last two minutes as he sat on the couch, blissfully watching whatever channel was being broadcast as the mention of a new, month long rental had called in this morning.

"She's coming all the way from Iran. Only a bit older than Gigi."

Gigi's ears perked up as she changed in the bathroom out of the tight outfit into her short-cut t-shirt gifted from Crystal as a token of their friendship.

Her mind ran rampant with questions as she bit her lower lip and shook her head; she knew well enough from consistent pestering and close observation that right now wasn't a good time to be speaking about something still considered so taboo.

The only lesbian in all of Los Angeles who wasn't ancient or leading an uprise was Crystal and her other close friend from high school, Jan, who was as about as open as you could get with someone still fiercely in the closet.

"What about a new girl?" She asked curiously as she stepped out from the shadows.

Her father smiled, happy that Gigi was interested in anything pertaining to work, though the blonde knew exactly where her head laid with that question.

"She's a refugee, the revolution is apparently starting to build and she needs a place to stay," her mother recapped as Gigi slid by the fridge, listening impatiently to her father's blind knowledge of politics and foreign affairs as she stole a soda.

"Their royalty recently spoke to our own Jimmy Carter you know."

"Really?" Gigi replied with genuine shock, opening her bottle of Dr. Pepper, completely forgetting who her own country's president was for a solid two minutes.

I could give less of a shit.

It wasn't her fault she had failed Government and Economics in high school.

She had always been in favour of taking those 45 minutes to instead go on a ride or just hide behind the bleachers with one of the cigarettes she had managed to steal from Crystal.

"Name?"

"Jacqueline, she's scheduled to arrive around late afternoon so we should go down in a few to work on some unfinished papers and also to make sure she's comfortable."

Gigi groaned, sipping her drink as she kept moaning at the thought of having to do math at a table alone. The incredibly interesting job of paperwork, however, would end with her meeting a new and mysterious woman almost her age.

She could either be Gigi's next crush or turn into a decently close friend, and either way she considered it a win-win situation for the better.

— *.✧

"More to the left," the blonde spoke as Crystal lifted the piece of artwork towards the end of where she had placed her chair.

"Good!"

Nailing it in, the redhead jumped down from the chair as she and Gigi exchanged a round of high fives and hugs.

The time had rolled around to ten minutes to four in the afternoon as the two were attempting to keep on singing with the ABBA record that was playing as they finished up the final touches of the autumn decor near the lobby.

It wasn't the most interesting time, but the pair always managed to make it as lively and fun as can be.

"Good job," she admitted as both headed for the pool before Gigi gasped, stopping immediately in her tracks when noticing what must've been the new Persian girl her father was talking about.

"Crystal, that's her!" She whisper-shouted as her best friend nodded, looking up and down at her beautifully styled outfit.

Flowing curly black hair, her dress long with a slit almost up to her thigh as she wore her locks down with little makeup on.

She was more than beautiful.

She was completely ethereal.

A goddess, the kind of figure that would make anyone stop on the street just so they could take her in and bask in the pure, unfiltered grace and poise you would feel looking at such a textbook definition of stunning.

Crystal disappeared in broad daylight as Gigi was left staring, engulfed completely in fantasy and admiration for someone her age to travel all this way just to feel some stable security and safety.

"Your full name?"

The Persian tilted her head, confused before Gigi's father explained that it was just for check in purposes so they could find her room number and call number.

"Jacqueline but most will just call me Jackie, Cox."

"Very American last name," her dad spoke, curious, Gigi wanting to bash her head against the wall the moment the words left his lips.

"My dad was born in Canada," she explained sheepishly as she covered her cheeks with her fingertips, trying to disguise the blush that soon infiltrated her entire face.

They exchanged a couple of chuckles here and there before the Persian finally received the key to her hotel room, Gigi jumping out from behind her father to explain that she would show her the place she would be staying in.

Locking eyes, Jackie's expression brightened significantly as Gigi rapidly fluttered her lashes. Her tough girl exterior completely crumbled at the sight of someone so perfect and refined.

"Gigi Goode."

"Jackie Cox."

They shook hands firmly, the both of them walking towards the elevator as Jackie held her suitcase, completely indifferent to the idea of staying at this complex despite the cute girl next to her who made sure she would get to her room in an orderly fashion.

Jackie missed her apartment in Tehran, she missed the mountains and high-rises in the window of her student home, with the silver tabbies sometimes hopping on the window when they smelled something good being cooked.

"I don't wanna ask you if it's triggering but what drove you to Los Angeles specifically? Is there a lot of students here from your country?"

The Persian smiled, licking her lips as she tried to come up with a put together answer to the question without having to go through a textbook of back story concerning the revolution.

"There is a lot of fighting over my government and I just fled knowing it's going to get worse. Los Angeles does have some Persians here for sure but I only am here because it was the cheapest ticket option."

"Awesome," Gigi gasped, "I mean not awesome! I'm sorry you're here but I'm very glad you're here and are staying with us!"

Way to make a first impression Gigi.

Jackie laughed at how quickly the blonde seemed to trip over her own words as the elevator opened to the second floor, Gigi skipping out before holding out her hand for the taller woman.

"Ladies first."

"Thank you!"

Making her way to the door she slid her key into the room as she finally managed to unlock it before nodding at the space within the room.

"It's very nice!"

"You don't have to lie just because my father owns this building," Gigi admitted with a snicker as Jackie shook her head furiously.

"I mean it!"

Gigi couldn't help but stare at the brightly coloured walls, though she supposed anything was better than Jackie's current situation back in her home country.

She explained that her and her best friend were probably going to be redoing the rooms soon with new paint job finishes.

"It's very cute, I like the colours."

Jackie sets her suitcase down on the couch as she jumps on to it, wiggling around as she leaned back and sighed, remembering suddenly that she needed to find a way to speak with her mother.

"Do you possibly have some kind of phone around? I just need to contact my mother if that's okay."

Gigi frowned, the idea of being away from her mom during a damn revolution abroad completely would destroy her, though Jackie seemed fine, or was at least able to mask her true emotions extremely well.

"Yeah, there should be one in the kitchen. It has a guide in English and French if you know it," She jokes though the Persian claps, admitting she's fluent and better at it than English.

Oh so she's also a cunning linguist.

What a home run.

"It's a bit confusing but if you get stuck you can always ask me, I work at the front desk most of the time."

Jackie stands, their faces in proximity as she thanks Gigi for all the good service and help. The Persian admitted she definitely wanted to see her again considering she was the first connection she had made arriving in America.

"If you ever wanna see me you can catch me on my Kawasaki motorcycle, I'm almost always out somewhere riding."

"You drive a motorcycle?" She asks, genuinely intrigued at Gigi's few hobbies.

"I do and I would be happy to take you anywhere you need, we live near one of the best downtown areas so whenever you need food or just want to stroll, let me know."

Jackie tucked the loose strands of her black hair behind her ear as she blushed, admitting it might have to be soon since she had to go off and buy some food for herself.

"If it's any trouble, I absolutely do not mind walking…"

"You're not going to walk to a grocery store, what time do you want to go? I'll knock on your door."

The Persian stared at the clock before humming, admitting that somewhere around six or seven would be perfect.

"It's a date," Gigi flirted before making a move and kissing Jackie's hand, saying goodbye to her new-found friend as the refugee stared at her with a smirk.

"Bye Gigi," she whispered as the blonde turned and closed the door, Jackie locking it before trying not to let the thought of this girl completely hypnotize her.

She was beautiful and very sweet. She was trying to make Jackie feel as comforted as possible, even if her responses were sometimes just a bit floundered.

Content with what she had, she turned on the small television perked in her room as she quickly explored the remaining calibers of the place she would call home for the next few weeks or so.

Her body stopped at the sight of the phone as she gripped the wires, her fingers wrapping around them as she anxiously attempted to call her mother, though she knew it was a long shot, and if it wasn't it would still be expensive.

No answer.

She groaned, head in her heads as she attempted to not cry. She put aside some of her extra money she budgeted out for non-necessity items.

I will ask Gigi to find me a payphone so I can give a call.

However, I still have to work out these timezone conversions.

Her suitcase was filled to the brim with whatever she could bring: her best outfits, three pairs of shoes, all her basic first aid, the money, some tokens of her home country to keep her at ease, a small Iranian flag and some miscellaneous items to keep her entertained like a few vinyl records and lots of art and writing materials.

"This is the American dream they always speak about," she muttered under her breath as she pulled out a long white kaftan to wear for the rest of the day.

Welcome to the United States Jackie, everything is only uphill from here...

[annaraebananawriter]

How to Be Me

Yellow again everyone! Oh? What’s this? A oneshot that doesn’t focus on Dream? Wow, I didn’t think I had it in me. This one focuses on Blue from Underswap, who, in my opinion, can remember the RESETs.

Also, be sure to listen to this song, as this was inspired by it. Can it also fit original Sans? Yes. However, I think it fits Blue better, okay?

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Underswap

Characters: Blue (Who belongs to P0pcornPr1nce)

Warnings: Implied Suicide, and I think that’s the only major one? Let me know!

Word Count: 1640

~oOo~

146.

Chara RESET the world 146 times.

Blue knew this how? Well, quite simply, he remembered, and he kept track. A shock, he’s sure. It’s true all the same. His brother knows about the timelines, the scientific part of them anyway, but he does not remember them.

Luckily.

Blue would not wish this on anyone. It’s a sort of hell, the worst kind of torture. He has to pretend every single day that everything is fine and not pointless. He has to be the hope of this world. The hope of his brother, who has already given up. Hope, hope, hope.

Hope, hope, hope.

Just keep hoping.

Though he wonders. How can he keep being the hope, when he barely has any left?

~oOo~

I don’t feel safe in this bed

~oOo~

Then they started the Genocide runs.

After a year of peacefulness on the surface. After they reached the ultimate happy ending. After his brother began to be happy, truly happy, for the first time in a long while. After Blue began to let himself hope that that run was the last, that they could actually live now.

Haha.

He was a goddam fool.

Before he opened his eyes, he knew what had happened. He tensed. If he opened his eyes, he was sure to be back Underground, in his old room. Tears slipped down his face slowly, dripping onto his pillow. A dry sob escaped him. He held his hands to his eyes, daring to look at the ceiling between them.

The blank ceiling, devoid of any glow-in-the-dark stars, gazed back at him tauntingly.

~oOo~

There are voices in my head

~oOo~

Voices of the past haunted his mind as he shook.

“C’mon, B-Blue! W-we got a morning j-jog to do!”

“Make sure you don’t burn the house down again, you two!”

“Bro, don’t worry! You’ll go great at this! After all, you’re the Magnificent Sans!”

They wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t leave him alone.

He curled up on his side, his hands moving to cover his ears as he mumbled ‘stop’ over and over again. Over, and over, and over…

Just like his entire life.

~oOo~

I’ve been talking to the dead

And the fear baptized me

~oOo~

Blue stared at the pile of dust in front of him, the orange hoodie gazing back silent and still.

He had played along when they left the ruins covered in faint dust and carrying that knife. He had acted like it wasn’t a problem at all. He knew what would happen if he didn’t. It seems he was wrong.

He wasn’t their target.

His brother had evacuated the town. Told him to go with, which he did for a bit, then he teleported away and arrived in time to see his brother’s head get chopped off. Yet, besides being on the verge of dying, his brother didn’t blame the human. He instead forgave him. Believed in him.

Now, he stood there, waiting for the tears to come. Tears for his only family member dying and leaving him alone. They didn’t appear.

It seemed Blue had run out of tears to give.

~oOo~

My kingdom turned to dust

And I watched all my riches rust

~oOo~

Slowly, he watched the Underground be purged of everyone.

Alphys, Napstablook, all of his friends. Gone.

Yet, he wasn’t surprised.

Blue watched the human continue to the castle.

~oOo~

Have I lost the Midas’ touch?

Or do sad eyes blind me?

~oOo~

They didn’t follow through.

Just when they reached the Final Corridor, they RESET again.

For the 148th time, Blue opened his eyes to a blank ceiling, a sinking feeling in his chest.

He didn’t cry anymore.

~oOo~

Over and over we go

Over the hills and the valleys below

~oOo~

223 times now.

They never want to finish what they started.

~oOo~

Oh, and it follows me, follows me home

And it suffocates me, hmmm

~oOo~

There was a numbness in his chest now.

“Bro, promise me you won’t try and fight the human?”

Blue doubted he could make it through one more incomplete run.

~oOo~

Oh, I can’t breathe

~oOo~

They actually entered the golden hallway this time.

It only took almost a hundred tries.

When they started forward, Blue was there to confront them. He forced a smile and spoke with a cheerfulness that made him feel sick.

~oOo~

I said oh, I can’t breathe

~oOo~

“Heya! I see you’ve been, uh…a bit busy, haven’t you? Well, anyway! I’ve got a question for you. Do you think…even the worst person can change? That everyone…can be a good person, if they just…tried?”

“…”

“Mweh heh heh! Well, here’s a better question…do you want to have a bad time? Because if you take another step forward, you are really not going to like what happens next.”

“…”

“Well, sorry brother! This is why I never make promises!”

~oOo~

All I know is I forgot how to be me

~oOo~

“It’s a beautiful day outside…flowers are blooming…birds are singing…on days like these…kids like you…”

“…?”

“Should be burning in hell.”

“!!!”

~oOo~

I don’t feel safe in these halls

There are bruises on the walls

~oOo~

Blue had once believed that killing wasn’t an option, no matter how desperate one became.

Funny how things change.

Funny how watching someone murder your kind over and over again, murder your brother over and over again, can make you think things differently.

It was almost funny enough to laugh at.

Instead, he looked away as another bunch of bones killed the human and restarted their battle.

~oOo~

There are bodies in the floors

And they breathe so loudly

~oOo~

103 times.

That’s how many times he had killed the human.

Chara was determined though. They wouldn’t stop until they killed him.

And Blue found himself longing for when that happened.

~oOo~

I wish I could move

Get up and walk right out this tomb

~oOo~

Leaving would be…troubling.

He would live, yes. But then he would be one of the only monsters left. He would be sentencing himself to a life of loneliness.

He didn’t like being alone. Never had.

So, he would remain here, blocking the path for this run and those in the future.

Because then he would be useful.

~oOo~

Do our saviours die too soon?

For my sins surround me

~oOo~

Chara got frustrated at death 200. They RESET again.

When Blue woke up this time, he woke up screaming. It was like all of his remorse, guilt and sadness that had abandoned him before had poured back into him. It left him shaking, his magic swirling around his room.

His brother hurried into the room, visibly worried and faintly scared. Just the sight of him calmed Blue down sufficiently, but he was still crying enough for Stretch to wrap him in a hug, rocking him and whispering comforts.

“It was just a nightmare,” he said.

Blue wished he could believe that.

~oOo~

Over and over we go

(Over and over we go)

Over the hills and the valleys below

(Over the hills and the valleys below)

Oh, and it follows me, follows me home

(follows me, follows me)

And it suffocates me, hmmm

~oOo~

It continued like this for a few dozen more runs.

Each time it RESET, Blue woke up crying and screaming. He knew he was making his brother worry, especially because he never woke up like this before the timeline started being messed with. He couldn’t help it.

At least he was no longer numb.

~oOo~

Oh, I can’t breathe

I said oh, I can’t breathe

~oOo~

They were in the hall again.

This time, Chara didn’t give up. They kept dodging with a sickening smile on their face.

Blue began to suspect that this human wasn’t the same one as before. He didn’t have proof, however.

He was beginning to get tired, too.

~oOo~

All I know is I forgot to be me

~oOo~

He offered them MERCY.

He was desperate.

They refused and attacked again.

Blue was beginning to consider just giving up and letting them kill him.

He didn’t find the thought of dying so bad, anyways.

~oOo~

Hallelujah

Where is my God, where are you?

~oOo~

Blue decided to use his special attack. Nothing.

He panted as he did.

He was, so, so tired.

Hm.

He could shut his eyes for just a minute, right?

~oOo~

Hallelujah

Nothing is pulling me through

~oOo~

As he closed his eyes, he thought he heard a voice saying for him to wake up, to stay awake.

Which was weird, as he wasn’t sleeping, even if he wanted to.

Another thing was that the voice sounded like Stretch.

Which was impossible and he was dead.

~oOo~

Hallelujah

When I don’t know how to be

Hallelujah

I forgot how to be me

~oOo~

Much to Blue’s dismay, he did fall asleep for a second.

He woke up when he heard Chara attack again, though.

He wasn’t prepared for when they attacked again quickly.

The pain as the knife cut him across the chest was extreme. It was greater than anything (physical, anyways) he had felt before.

As the human walked away and he said his final words, Blue had the strangest sensation of someone hugging him.

~oOo~

When he gave up the fight

A quick decision late in the night

~oOo~

As he felt himself dust and his soul shatter, the world RESET.

Blue woke back up in his bed.

Something was off this time. Something broke inside of him.

He decided to give up.

He didn’t have any hope anymore

~oOo~

That stayed with me for all of my life

I miss you so

~oOo~

When Stretch went to see what was taking his brother so long, all he encountered was a pile of dust toped with a blue bandana.

[nomnomsik]

In Sync | Pt. 2

Summary: The dance teacher and choreographer, Jung Hoseok, appears as a guest for UNDER 19, a judge for the showdown round, with only half of all the trainees qualifying for the next round. Despite his intimidating manner, his interest in you, a trainee, must mean he wants you to qualify to the end, right? What happens if he wants something else from you, completely unrelated to dance?

Pairing: Dance Teacher!Hoseok x Trainee/Idol Fem!Reader

Genre: Slow-burn, Idol!AU

Word Count: 4.4K

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, manipulation, profanity, eating disorders, possessive tendencies, and overworking. Please read with caution.

[ Part 1 ]

≿————- ❈ ————-≾ 

All the same. We are all the same.

We have this person in the figment of our imagination, someone who is everything we could ever want in a person. Some people prefer having someone with a great personality, while some joke around with specific heights or style. Yet, these same people go against what they say. They always seem to settle with someone who doesn’t fit what they’ve always wanted. Are they happy like that?

Is it wrong that I’ll never be happy unless I have someone be exactly how I imagined them? Why is it that we cannot have a straight replica of our imagination? Why is it that when an art teacher tries to aid another person to draw, even if the outcome is completely different from the original, why are they happy with that?

If I was in that position, I would want the drawing to be exactly like the original. Why must I settle for close enough?  If they aren’t the same as what I wanted, why would I want them? These people fantasize about their future lovers in life just like I do, but when I tell them I haven’t found the right one, they look at me like I’m asking for too much, that I’m greedy. 

I, too, want to be happy. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who’s just as devoted as I am. Is it so wrong to want to live out my fantasies? I always go back to these fragments of my dreams with my partner. We should be absolute perfection. We would be completely in sync.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Pah, pah-” 

Left, right foot, jump, both arms together, half turn-

“Faster, y/n!” 

You grunted, spinning around quicker than normal as you stared at both of your reflections through the mirror. His piercing eyes watched every movement you put out, joining you in synchronized motions as he scrutinized over each detail. As the music died down, you collapsed onto the floor, your hair sprawled everywhere as you desperately panted while looking at the palm of your hands. 

"Is that all you got in you? Do you think the industry will accept such mediocrity? Stand up. From the top." 

Not even fifteen seconds of rest, you dragged yourself back up as you sat straight, rubbing each leg as you slowly stood back up. With your half-lidded eyes, your dance teacher sent a threatening stare, crossing the room to restart the title track. 

This time, however, he watched from the sidelines as you danced in front of the mirror. You body screamed out in pain at each extension of your arm or when you had to squat down close to the floor. Despite the agony, you kept going until the music finally died down again. What was it? The 40th time today? Hoseok seemed more lenient today than normal. 

“Angel,” Hoseok murmured, staring at your sprawled out body as you finished on the ground. “How do you think you did?” 

Hoseok took a seat beside you, his legs crossed as he brushed your wet hair away from your forehead. 

“N-not good… enough.” You choked, short of breath. 

Hoseok smiled, happy with your answer as his fingers cascaded through your hair. “That’s right. It’s not good enough. Not to mention we haven’t even touched singing together today.” 

You shuffled to the side, grumbling in annoyance. Hoseok found it endearing and cute, watching as you huddled your legs closer to your chest. “How much longer until I debut?” You whispered. 

Hoseok sighed, knowing the sadness in that question. How long has it been since you trained under him? Two years? Almost three? Even though you couldn’t see his expression, he shook his head, not knowing himself. “Are you getting tired of dancing, y/n?” 

“Sometimes.” You mumbled honestly, your back facing him. 

"Even if there are days where you want to quit, you'll look back to see how everything was worth it,” Hoseok spoke, a chill running down your spine. 

“It better.” 

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“Ms. Y/n, do you know why you’re here today?” 

“No, sir.” You responded respectfully, bowing your head a little. 

The man sat in front of you, his large desk spanning out in front of him. In the soft cushion of the seat, you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, not exactly sure why you were called in by the CEO himself. 

“A few trainees have come forward saying that Hos-, I mean, Mr. Jung has been keeping you much longer after practice. They've been suggesting extreme allegations against him. Has he ever made you uncomfortable?” 

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“I only want to debut a successful female artist. Our reputation towards female trainees is already bad, so I have to push her harder.” 

“You do understand that even if you expose me, the news will spread and all the funds we spent into her training and solo career will be all for nothing, right?” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“Don’t ever even try to cross me.” 

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Was it the 74th repeat? Maybe the 78th? 

You sighed, not remembering the exact number as you lay on the floor. Hoseok clapped his hands as he entered the dance studio, your body shooting up. 

“Sorry about that. I’m back now. Let’s start from the top, okay?” 

You nodded, positioning your body from muscle memory. Every step and motion was burned into your body and soul, to where it was at the back of your mind. Your thoughts drifted to relaxation. From the softness of your bed to the wooden floors, you were dying to lay on anything and not have to stand up on your two feet. Nailing every move, you panted at the end, the music slowly dying out as looked up at your teacher. 

You brought your arms back down to your side as you turned around to face him, your back towards the mirrors. Hoseok calmly tapped his foot on the wooden floors, tilting his head to the side as he took a few steps towards you. 

“That was terrible.” 

Your head shot up as Hoseok grabbed your chin, your back harshly slamming into the mirrors. Wincing in pain, Hoseok tightly held you with little to no resistance. 

“You weren’t even thinking about the dance, were you?” Hoseok seethed. “Do you want to debut or not?” 

“I do!” You grit out.

“Then act like it!” Hoseok countered, letting you go as you sagged onto the floor, smearing the polished glass. “That was pathetic! Terrible! If you don’t put everything into practice, then during the real thing, you're hopeless.” 

Saying nothing in response, Hoseok squatted to the floor, staring at your dull eyes. He squinted at you, bringing your arm up to his fingers as he wrapped them around your wrist. He hummed but frowned, looking curiously at your body. 

A silence overcame him as he stared at your arms and legs before continuing. “Do it over once more and that’s it for tonight.” Hoseok softly instructed, walking back over to the computer as you tiredly stood up. Your eyes widened a bit at Hoseok’s declaration. 

He’d let you go? Already? It wasn’t even 1 am yet.

“Ready?” Hoseok called. “3, 2, 1!” 

You jumped, this time dedicating yourself completely to the routine as Hoseok watched with his arms crossed. 

Half turn-

Hoseok watched with no emotion in his face as he followed your reflection off the mirror. You picked up the speed on the turn and increased the pace in the second part of the chorus. Hoseok’s eyes widened as he slowly took an interest, subconsciously licking his lips as he watched your body stretch almost effortlessly. 

Had you done that before? Definitely not. 

Unable to suppress the delight in his face, his eyes twinkled as he watched your body flow like water, almost like a ritual right before his eyes. The bridge of the song, which contained more of the difficult moves, took a toll on your body as you predicted the slip up this time, quickly avoiding it and bending your knees together.

With the final note of the song, reminiscent of the time you were eliminated from Under 19, you pumped your arm in the air, satisfied. You stood up, snapping your head to see your teacher’s reaction. His expression was indescribable, from his widened eyes and parted lips, completely dumbfounded. When you registered him coming closer to you, you couldn’t even mutter a whisper, couldn’t even ask him what he thought. His face was too much of a shock. You had never seen him satisfied with your performance before. 

Hoseok clapped loudly as the vibrations filled the studio, him softly whispering to you. 

“That was beautiful, angel. It- I loved it.” 

For the first time after becoming a BigHit trainee, you heard several compliments stream out of Hoseok’s mouth, flowing out like butter from his tongue. There was no snarkiness or hidden intention, but pure happiness that flooded from his face. His smile was wide and his cheeks, as if he was crying. Often, he would half-ass his compliments which were along the lines of ‘it was fine but-’ or ‘eh, better, I guess.’ But to hear him be proud of you when it seemed like nobody was, the feeling was unlike anything you could fathom.

“See? I knew you could do it, angel.”

As Hoseok stroked the top of your head, you still looked up at him as if he was a stranger. There’s no way this was the same man who lectured and forced you into the extremities of dance. It had been years, repeating the same routine over and over, only to hear every demoralizing remark thrown at you. It was his remarks that only increased your want for success. You had expected the day he would finally praise you would be when you retire, or maybe if you never debuted. Your body quivered under his soft touch as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Had his eyes always been that bright?

You arms trembled up to your mouth as you felt a warmth pool up in your face. Finally hearing the validation of your teacher broke you down to tears as you cried on your knees. 

He truly did want for you to become a successful idol, to help you achieve your dreams. His harshness was extreme, but it was coming from good. 

He’s the only one who sees potential in you.

He’s the only one who wants the best for you. 

He’s the only one who’s rooting for you. 

The feeling was better than winning the lottery, tears streaming from your eyes as you grabbed Hoseok in an embrace. He yelped as you pulled him down, wetting his shoulder from your cries. Hoseok let out a giggle as you let out a stream of words filled with gratitude, unable to decipher what you were actually saying. 

“Why are you crying?” Hoseok whispered gently. The softness of his voice only made your cries worse as he actually laughed in the scenario. “Shh, don’t cry, y/n. A performance like that doesn’t deserve these tears.” 

“Y-you think I’m a good dancer?” You whispered, teary-eyed as your voice quivered. 

Hoseok’s stomach dropped upon hearing your broken words. Did you really think he thought you were never going to add up to anything? His hand came up to your back as he awkwardly stroked your back. Even with sweat riding down your skin, Hoseok held you until you calmed down, staring at both of your reflections from the now dirty mirror. 

“C’mon,” Hoseok nudged, lifting you up to your feet. “Practice is over today.” 

You nodded, walking over to collect your belongings with Hoseok waiting at the door. You passed through as Hoseok turned off the lights and locked the door. Before you could leave the building, Hoseok grabbed onto your hand as you visibly flinched, flustered at his sudden intrusion. 

“Wha-” You started as you were harshly pulled out of the building and into the night sky. 

“Follow me,” Hoseok instructed as you nervously, but obediently followed behind him. 

“Where…where are we going?” You questioned worriedly, walking in the lit up city, cars passing by in the opposite direction on the busy streets. 

“We’re going to eat,” Hoseok replied bluntly as you crossed the street with him. 

“U-uh, I can eat by myself…?”

Hoseok scoffed, pushing through the door of the convenience store, heading straight for the prepared foods section. “No, your ‘eating’ is only making your body weaker. You’ve lost almost 7 kilos.” 

Your stomach dropped as you visibly paled, snapping your head in the other direction to avoid his suffocating words. In a small whisper, you fidgeted with your fingers and the cuffs of your jacket. 

“How’d you…?” 

“Why are you surprised? You know I can tell the littlest mistakes when you dance. You think I can’t notice how your body is getting thinner?” 

You gulped, your face burning from embarrassment at how easily your teacher put your struggles into words. Hoseok continued, his voice annoyed as he forcefully snatched a basket nearby. “How can I expect you to dance when you barely eat enough for it?” Hoseok huffed, placing several food containers into his basket. 

“...Sorry.” You muttered, wrapping your arms around your stomach as if it could conceal your self-consciousness. 

“I’m not blaming you,” Hoseok stated, his eyes fixed solely on inspecting the nutrition information of the containers of food. “I just don’t want you to get sick…” He said more softly, before turning to finally meet you in the eyes. 

“Pick whatever you want to eat.” 

Your eyes widened as you looked at him in shock. “R-really? Can I? Isn’t that against-” 

Two heavy hands pushed down on your shoulders as you looked up to only meet Hoseok’s dark brown eyes. You shuddered, his intimidating stare almost causing your legs to fall. 

“Forget the diet and don’t worry about paying for it either.” 

“Thank you, Hoseok.” You muttered as he released you, turning your attention to the array of foods lined up in their plastic compartments. Hoseok tilted his head back, giving you a grin as he watched you eye all the food hungrily, your face trying to suppress your smile. 

As the two of you exited the store, you walked toward a secluded park that overlooked the Han River, sharing a bench together. You ate silently with the wind as the only sound that filled the non-existent conversation. With the only lights coming from the convenience store, city, and park lamps, you could barely make out Hoseok’s expression. 

He finished first, closing his container and placing it back in his plastic bag. Shifting his attention to you, the two of you awkwardly stared at each other, even though you were chewing on your food. 

“...What?” You muttered, finding his stare unsettling. 

“Are you scared of me?” He asked, tilting his head for a better look at your expression. You laughed, covering your mouth as Hoseok only gave you a more confused look. 

“Completely terrified!” You mocked, laughing to yourself. “Are you being serious right now? I was the only one to meet your stares and you think I’m? Me? Scared? Good one.” You spat, shoving more food into your mouth as you chomped in annoyance. 

“Wow.” 

“Almost three years and you have the nerve to ask-” You hissed before going into a coughing fit as you choked on your own saliva. Hoseok looked at you with bewilderment before scratching the back of his head and awkwardly chuckling. 

“I get it. I get it. Also,” Hoseok added, eyeing you from the side. “We better go. It’s getting late.” 

After calming down from your coughing fit, you hummed in agreement, finishing the last container as you placed it with all the other empty ones. The two of you walked in silence as Hoseok led you back to the dorm. He gave you a nonchalant wave as you stepped in the building, turning the other way and down the street. 

“Good night, y/n~”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Loud footsteps echoed down the hallway as a door was slammed open, revealing Hoseok in his white tee, a black cap on his head, and baggy grey sweatpants. The early morning sun was barely up in the sky when Hoseok stormed into the office of the notorious dietitian. 

“M-mr. Jung!” The man who sat in his desk stuttered, hurryingly standing up and bowing. “Is there something I can help with you today?” 

Hoseok rolled his tongue against the inside of his mouth, tilting his head to the side as he cracked his neck to get rid of his agitation. He glared daggers at the timid man, who only further cowered in fear. 

“What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Hoseok snapped, a hand coming up to his hip. “I looked over y/n’s diet,” He fluttered the couple of papers that he gripped in his hand, his thumb creating a nasty wrinkle. “There are barely enough calories for a human to fucking survive. And to top it off - and I mean you really ticked me off when I saw this - no fats. Anywhere, in this diet.” 

Hoseok threw the papers at the dietitian who nervously grabbed at the discarded sheets and looked over them. Hoseok continued his torrent of complaints, shaking his head. “I’m not saying you’re an idiot, but that’s exactly what I’m saying. My trainee who’s going to debut soon needs unsaturated fats in her body.” He grit out, slamming his hand on the desk. The dietitian met Hoseok’s challenging gaze, firmly holding his belief. 

“What’s important is that she’s not going to be overweight, Mr. Jung.” 

Hoseok scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t fucking give me that shit. There’s no way adding necessary nutrients in her body is going to make her overweight. How do you expect her to even dance if she’s about to pass out at any second?!” 

“Mr. Jung, I understand your concerns but-” 

Hoseok grabbed the collar of the dietitian's shirt, pulling him to meet face to face. “You clearly don’t. I'm already set on forcing this industry to accept her regardless of how “overweight” you think she is. I'm going to make them rethink everything. What will be more important to them then, beauty or talent?” 

“Now change that piece of garbage diet.” He growled, throwing the dietitian back into his seat. 

The dietitian didn’t budge, refusing to change the documents he had given you. Hoseok scoffed, turning the other way before snatching the papers back. 

“Fine, be that way. I didn’t want to do your job for you, but alas.” Hoseok chuckled, slamming the door shut as he stomped down to the CEO’s office, leaving the dietitian speechless. His conversation was short and brief, little words actually exchanged, just knowing looks and nods. He was satisfied. It was finally time. Hoseok then walked fervently through the halls, stopping as he watched you slip into the dance room early in the morning, almost too early. 

Hoseok leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and listening as you shuffled in the studio, muttering under your breath as the sound of the computer mouse clicks reached his ears. He stayed outside the door for a few minutes, listening to the shuffle and squeak of your sneakers against the polished floors as you went through your title track choreography, singing out a few lines of the chorus. Once he heard the bridge of the song, his eyes slowly opened, his mind visualizing the way your body moved from the squeak of your feet alone, until a loud crash echoed in the studio. Even when the music continued to play, Hoseok grew worried as he no longer heard your footsteps. 

Grabbing the doorknob, he threw the door open only to find you on the floor, your back on the ground and face in pain as you held onto your leg. His stomach dropped as he quickly ran over, kneeling down and supporting your leg with you. 

“Y/n? Are you alright? Is it bad?” Hoseok spit out several questions as he worriedly looked down at your injury, noticing the red bump on your knee. 

“H-hoseok,” You muttered as he impatiently nodded. “I-I can still practice today right?” You looked at him with pleading eyes as Hoseok bit his lip, not wanting his own desires to get in the way of your health. 

“I’m not sure.” He whispered. “Let me see it.” 

His slender fingers trailed your burning skin as he looked it over, pressing harshly in some areas as you winced in pain. He stood up, walking across the room as he put a frozen pack on the definitely soon-to-be swollen skin, the gauze wrap secured tightly. He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head back and forth. There was a wave of relief when he realized nothing was broken or dislocated, but you were still hurt.

“I think it would be best to not practice for a few days, see how fast it heals…” He trailed off, watching as your expression fell, looking down at your injury in resentment. “How’d you fall…?” He questioned, observing your expression carefully.

Your face reddened as your mouth sputtered, looking away from his eyes. Yet, the awkward silence was unbearable as you quickly confessed. “I didn’t stretch and um…I’m sorry...” 

Hoseok let out an exasperated sigh, shooting down his anger at your carelessness. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. Just focus on recovery. We’ll have to start backup dancer training earlier then.” You looked down guilty, as Hoseok agitatedly ruffled his hair, shuffling around the room in a restless manner. 

You eyes stared straight at the floor, hoping the chilling coldness from the ice pack to numb the feelings of shame. 

Hoseok took a glance at you from the corner of his eye as you dejectedly slid yourself to the corner of the room, never lifting your head up. You could feel your face heat up as tears pricked from the corner of your eyes. 

Why do you always cry? Stop crying. Stop stop stop. Don’t you dare cry in front of-

Two warm hands met your cheeks as you shot your head up, meeting Hoseok’s eyes. You trembled in his embrace, your hands clutched to your chest. 

“I’m not mad at you.” He whispered gently, wiping the tears that threatened to spill out from your eyes. 

“B-but…Aren’t you disappointed?”

“No, I’m not.” 

“Why not?” You choked out. Your debut. You waited years for this. A setback like this would only push your schedule further back. How could he not be disappointed in you? Why did he have to look at you like it was everyone else’s fault? 

“You ask too many questions, angel.” He chuckled, helping you up to your feet. “After all the improvements you’ve made, I’m not disappointed. How can I when you only wanted to practice more?” He flashed you a bright smile, the ones that were still unusual to you. You wanted to see it more, from the way his eyes crinkled to how his cheeks stuck out, the sight was enthralling...and it made you feel good inside. A warmth that enraptured you towards him. 

He pulled out a chair near the computer as you sat down, securing yourself. Hoseok lifted up a finger as if to instruct you with important orders. 

“Now, since you can’t dance for a while, you’re going to manage the music when the back-up dancers come in, alright?” 

You nodded obediently, spinning your chair around to face the bright screen. Hoseok stood behind you, leaning over as he pointed at the screen and you followed along. The scent of his musky cologne was faint with a sharp sting of citrus. As his chest leaned closer to you, you felt your heart pick up as you shuffled in your chair, earning Hoseok’s sharp gaze. 

“Is something hurting?” He whispered, a chill shooting through your body as you quietly shook your head in protest. His hand came up to your shoulder, gently rubbing your sore muscles back and forth. “I’m glad then.” 

“Shall we get to business, angel?” 

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

“No, no, no! Stop!” 

Hoseok shouted as you quickly toggled the music off from your seat, watching the tired faces of the new trainees as they struggled to stand straight up. 

“If y/n’s putting 1000% into her performance, you better put 2000% into your job." 

You awkwardly shifted in your seat, feeling guilty for not dancing with them, for not being in the same pain they were going through. While Hoseok was yelling at every one of them, harshly critiquing their performance, you sat at your seat like a pretty doll. 

"You think just because you don't have to sing you don’t have to try as hard?” 

The trainees muttered a mutual ‘no’, shifting their legs, the urge to sit down killing them. Hoseok huffed, having about enough of four hours and barely any improvement at all. “If I don't see improvement by tomorrow, I’m making everyone stay overtime while I watch. I’m leaving. C’mon, y/n.” 

You worriedly looked back at the new trainees, empathy reflecting back at them from the way your eyebrows furrowed and eyes creased. Your legs hesitantly walked away from them, your hand coming up to reach Hoseok’s outstretched arm as he dragged you through the hallway. When the door softly shut, the trainees grumbled, falling down on the floor for a break, only to quickly face the mirror a few minutes later. 

“Hoseok... My leg…” You whimpered as he tugged you along. He came to a halt, looking at you before a mischievous smirk graced his lips. He bent down, bringing his arm up to the back of both your knees before picking you up. “What the- What are you doing?!” You shrieked, your face growing red. “Oh my god! Hoseok, put me down! Put me down this instant! Now!” 

Hoseok just bolstered a laugh, carrying you with no difficulties through the hallways. “Nobody will see. I mean… Even if they did-” 

“I don’t care! Put me down!” You wiggled pathetically in his grasp before huffing at how his grip stayed tight and secure. It was when Hoseok stopped in the hallway, that you finally looked at him. Staring up at you, his eyes no longer held the warmth that you longed for. His voice and expression was serious, deadly, almost threatening, telling you the time had come. 

“Your debut is on February 17, three weeks from now.” 

[Part 3]

[silver-maxwell]

so @ineedyoubygeorgeharrison and I opened up a google doc and worked on a fic! the summary: the boys go for a midnight swim at the Bahamas, Ringo almost drowns.

word count: around 2600, give or take a few.

(warnings? some description of drowning and a bit of the after-effect)

Usually, the time difference would mean messed up sleep schedules for the boys, making them either extremely tired or wide awake at inconvenient times (and the odd sleep schedules typically led to an excessive amount of yawning too).

Unfortunately for Eppy, tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

They had left Liverpool at 2 am and arrived at the Bahamas at 10 pm and the four were now wide awake due to a rather long nap. Four energetic Beatles never led to anything good, Eppy knew that for sure.

“We aren’t children, Eppy.” John rolled his eyes as he placed a now empty bottle of soda beside him.

“I beg to differ,” Their manager sighed, “You four still have a press conference early tomorrow, so at least try to rest.”

“Fine, we’ll try,” John shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked away from their manager, turning his attention to his bandmates instead.

"Well, goodnight then, boys.” Eppy gave extra emphasis on ‘goodnight’ as he left them alone…

They behaved for about half an hour at most.

it all started with Paul simply staring out the wide-open window overlooking the beach.

“Rather quiet out there isn’t it?” Paul commented from his place on a recliner. The other three turned to look just so they could try and see it too.

 The ocean was rather still looking, the waves lapped at the sandy shore, the full moon above lighting up the area beautifully.

“We packed swim shorts, right?” George piped up as a grin began to form on John’s lips, a mischievous look glinting in his eyes as he glanced around at his friends. He was clearly up for a swim.

“Now?” Paul asked, looking mildly amused at the thought of a late-night swim.

“The entire place is empty! No one knows we’re even here yet, it’s a perfect time to go.” John was already going through his luggage in search of his swim trunks, he hardly even hesitated. Paul didn’t need much convincing either, if John was doing it then he was most definitely going to go along as well, he’d follow John anywhere.

Ringo took another look out the window and decided he may as well tag along too, it had been a while since he’d gone to the beach anyway. George shrugged and quickly began to look for his own pair, a swim didn’t sound half bad, especially when he was as awake as he was.

They took some towels from the hotel bathroom and snuck their way out past Brian and Mal’s hotel room which was just a door down (when the door loudly behind them they had frozen and tried their hardest not to laugh. John briefly thought back to the earlier argument and maybe Eppy was right).

They managed to get out of the hotel without anyone really noticing them, except for the man at the front desk, but they just ignored the weird look that he gave them and continued on their quest to get to the beach. They quickly ran down the sidewalk and through a small trail between the sandhills and the palm trees. Ringo soon began to regret his decision of not bringing any shoes as he stepped on a sharp rock, wincing at the pain.

The towels are haphazardly thrown to the side and John was the first one to reach the water, immediately recoiling as soon as his feet broke through the surface.

“Bloody hell, it’s freezing!”

It took a while (and a lot of yelling), but it wasn’t long before they were all waist-deep in the cold water of the ocean. Well…Most of them were waist-deep anyway, in Ringo’s case it was a little bit above his waist…Short little man.

At some point, John splashed water at George, who retaliated by tackling the older male into the water with a loud laugh that filled the air. As time passed they found themselves slowly walking into deeper areas, the water starting to splash just above their elbows. The water didn’t feel as cold as before, as they were soon completely drenched.

Ringo rubbed some salt out of his eye, having been thrown by John and Paul further out just moments before. When he opened his eyes again, he realized just how far they made it out into the water, blinking slowly at the sight. The shore was a good distance away, he turned and saw that the others had water up to their shoulders by that point.

He was caught off guard by a small wave suddenly hitting him in the face and he spat out some of the salty water, automatically shaking his head to try and rid himself of the water. Ringo turned towards the others who were currently talking amongst themselves and he asked if they thought that the waves were getting stronger.

Well, he tried to ask them anyway.

He took a step further and before he even realized what was happening, he was falling. Ringo barely had time to suck in a breath as he was suddenly submerged, unable to feel the wet sand beneath his feet and he didn’t know whether or not if he should try and find it again or focus on keeping his head above water. He flailed around a bit as he made it to the surface, his arms reaching out to nothing and just barely managing to break through for another breath.

But he panicked when he realized he was drifting farther away from the others. Ringo immediately opened his mouth to call for them, to scream…

But all he did was inhale a mouthful of water as the unforgiving ocean dragged him back down.

He stayed down longer than the first time, no matter how much he tried to keep his head above the water. The water suddenly felt cold again, numbing almost as it tried to drag him down further away from his friends, further away from air. He tried his hardest not to panic more than he already was but that was starting to become a difficult feat, especially seeing as his friends hadn’t even noticed his disappearance.

He broke the surface and drew in a sharp gasp of air, trying to draw as much in before he was inevitably pulled back down again. He caught a glimpse of his bandmates in the distance and his heart sank at how far away they seemed to be. He managed to get out a raspy shout for help, hoping - no, needed for his bandmates to hear it.

And then, he was under the water once more. But, right before it happened, he saw George turn and he met the guitarist’s gaze for just a moment, watching his eyes widen in a mixture of horror and realization before Ringo went beneath the surface yet again, accidentally getting another mouthful of water in the process.

“Ringo!”

The desperate scream from George was muffled by the amount of water rushing in Ringo’s ears, but it was still a scream nonetheless and that meant he still heard it. He could’ve sworn he heard a loud swear or two from John, but even if he had, Ringo paid it no mind. His main focus was on the fact that his lungs were begging for oxygen, but he couldn’t satisfy the request. If he tried to take a breath, all he’d get would be water, water that would fill his lungs and drown him with his friends only being a couple of feet away at most.

He wanted to keep fighting, he honestly needed to keep on fighting…But he had nothing left in him. All the struggling and getting nowhere, it exhausted him. He just couldn’t do it. The constant lack of air was making him dizzy. Ringo’s vision was going black as if to match the dark waters around him. He…He had to give up…As much as he hated to admit it.

And he would’ve done exactly that…If it hadn’t been for a pair of strong arms wrapping tightly around him and hauling him up. Another pair joined in and he finally managed to get his head above water again, taking deep breaths to try and get his breathing back to normal, but this time he wasn’t going back down. As soon as Ringo’s knees hit the shore his entire body was racked by coughs. Everything became a blur. There was yelling, they were talking to him. All he could focus on was breathing. Someone was pounding his back with the heel of their hand in time with the hard coughs. The combination of coughing and the beating seemed to trigger something, as Ringo suddenly gagged and hurled the water he had been forced to swallow earlier.

When time finally slowed down Ringo could see the tears that blurred his vision, every time he breathed in deeply his back ached, the strong hand now rubbing soft circles into his back as he tried to catch his breath again.

George hadn’t even noticed. No one had noticed. They’d gotten distracted by John and Paul restarting a small argument from earlier, they’d thought nothing of the splashing. Until George had finally turned to see Ringo disappear into the dark water. He had yelled, John had cursed.

It was like the water worked against him as he desperately headed over to the sinking drummer. George immediately grabbed the drummer in some strange side hug and pulled him close, John went to the drummer’s other side as soon as George had gotten close enough to the others. They had both dragged Ringo to shore while Paul trudged through the water close behind. “Should we get someone?” Paul stood close by watching Ringo enter into a loud coughing fit while John pounded his back in an attempt to help. “Just-” George began as he stood crouched beside Ringo, racking his brain for ideas “Get Eppy to call a doctor?” Deeming it as the only course of action and not wanting to feel useless Paul gave one last worried glance at Ringo and ran at breakneck speed back to the hotel. After expelling the last of the water from his body Ringo simply slumped on his side like a ragdoll, now utterly exhausted. “You alright there, lad?” John moved the wet strands of hair blocking his eyes to get a better look at the drummer. Ringo moved so that he was laying on his back, hundreds of bright stars looked down at him. “Yeah, I’m…” Ringo began, pausing to take in a large, shaky breath. “… tired” A moment of silence passed, George moved to sit on his knees while John sat and crossed his legs. Ringo remained on his sore back. “Where’d Paul go off too?” Ringo asked rather quietly. “He went to fetch Eppy” George answered in the same low volume.

As if on cue a voice yelled from across the beach. “Boys!” Three heads turned in unison to see Brian marching his way towards them, both Mal and Paul in tow. Eppy somehow looked furious and concerned simultaneously, though the intimidating aura lessened when he slipped forward on the sand.

They all had gotten an earful from Eppy on their way back. “This is why you shouldn’t leave your rooms in the middle of the night” Eppy muttered, a hand on Ringo’s shoulder in an attempt to keep the younger close by “the press conference is in literal hours and you lads go almost drown Ritchie” “I’m fine” Ringo argued back, tightening the towel around him as he shivered from the air conditioning. “He ‘s fine” John parrots back, his hands were pulling at the towel around his shoulders. “We saved him didn’t we? The Lad should be thanking us, we’re his heroes”

“If I knew you’d get such a big head outta this I would have stayed in the water, maybe then you’d fit through the door to your room” Ringo bit back with a smile. though a rather dark joke, it at least told the others Ringo was recovering from the events that had transpired well enough.

Upon entering the room he shared with George, Ringo sat himself down in the middle of the hotel’s couch, still wrapped in the towel. The others moved around him, towels were thrown onto a stool (to which Eppy tutted at) and despite the late hour and exhaustion that plagued him, Ringo had no intention of sleeping. “I’d recommend taking a shower, get the salt and sand off you boys,” Eppy said as he gave an unamused look at Paul who was dusting the sand off his leg and onto the carpet. Ringo scrunched up his nose at the suggestion The last thing Ringo wanted at the moment was to be under a stream of water. “I think Ringo’s had enough water for the day” George had taken notice of their drummers reaction, Ringo gave George an almost sad little smile. Eppy simply nodded in acknowledgment while he used his right hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “You boys are going to give me grey hairs”

John noticeably rolled his eyes from behind their manager.

The little gathering in the hotel room had lasted for a solid 10 minutes longer, after assuring themselves that Ringo was alright Mal and Eppy left for their room. (“Get some sleep, I mean it this time” Eppy had told them).

The room was silent, Ringo had ditched his towel in favor of an actual blanket, he was working up the energy to change out of his swimsuit like the others had and abandon the warmth of the couch. Paul’s rather loud yawn finally broke the silence, causing Ringo to realize just how worn out the others seemed. George looked ready to doze off from where he stood leaning across the counter while John continuously ran a hand through his hair, fighting back a yawn of his own. “Y’know you lads can just leave right?” all three turned to their drummer who had yet to move from his spot. “And what about you?” Paul countered back “you look absolutely knackered, Y’know” While Ringo’s eyes did feel heavy, the willingness to sleep evaded him. He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t want too” John threw himself down onto the couch, causing Ringo to bounce in place.

“I don’t want to either,” He said despite the clear exhaustion in his face. Soon the others had joined Ringo onto the couch, Paul had taken the other end while George had squished himself between Ringo and John. “There’s a chair right there, George” John had hissed as he was stabbed in the ribs by George’s bony elbow, George paid him no mind. Despite the fact they were rather squished, it proved to be a nice source of warmth against the chill that had settled upon the drummer. Paul had turned a single lamp off as he claimed it was far too bright, setting the room in a softer glow from the remaining lamp across the room. They spent the next half hour chatting amongst themselves, of simple things like the tour,  the places they were headed to and all agreeing upon the fact that press conferences were boring.

When Eppy found them the next morning he almost couldn’t believe what he saw. John sat with his arms crossed as his head rested on the crook of George’s neck. George, in turn, had his cheek on the top of John’s head. Paul had sunken down further in his spot during the night, his head resting where the armrest met the backrest. Ringo had somehow remained wrapped in his blanket but was curled under Paul’s arm and into his side. Brian stood by the doorway, thinking for a moment. He grabbed the door handle and went to close the door again. He’d give them ten more minutes, he decided. Brian closed the door gently, it gave a soft click in response.

Only ten minutes though, they did have a schedule to follow.

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Hi! I recently read your Yandere Chuuya oneshot and loved it! Spot on my dude! Anyway I'd like to request some yandere headcannons for Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, and Akutagawa...How would they react to a pregnant s/o attempting to escape captivity? (She hasn't told him she is pregnant and that's why she's trying to escape)

I’m. So. Sorry for the wait with this. x_x I’ve never written something to do with pregnancy before so this was more than a little challenging to write but I sincerely hope that it was worth the wait. 

Also if some of the mentioned people in these requests have longer parts then the others I’m very sorry. x_x I’m not trying to trick you out of anything.

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Akutagawa is unquestionably merciless and cold when it comes to most things. However, the anger that comes to him when he returns home and finds you trying to escape him will cause him to be enraged. 

He will without a doubt grab you by the collar of whatever you are wearing or a few strands of your hair and drag you back into the room while your cries of pain fall on deaf ears if he’s not wearing his trademark coat. Though if he is wearing his coat then expect to be quickly grabbed by Rashomon, dragged back into the room and pinned to the bed while Ryunosuke simply stares at you with cold eyes that are burning with the silent rage and he will not have Rashomon release you until you explain yourself. 

Though he may appear composed in truth he is absolutely livid that you tried to escape him, and even if he doesn’t say as much it will be in his voice and eyes. Had he not given you everything? Everything that he had done had been for you and yet you try to escape? Perhaps he had been far too lenient with you or maybe he had been simply fooled by how you were behaving that he had allowed you to be unrestrained. After all, he had so far neglected using the chains, the collar, and the handcuffs but if you were going to continue to be stubborn and resist then he would have no choice. 

One of the many punishments was about to come your way since betrayal or things like this were never something that Akutagawa was very forgiving of, especially when it came to you. Losing you was something he would never allow. However, when the words leave your lips with fear twinged and pleading eyes Akutagawa’s thoughts come to a complete stop and for just a moment his eyes widen in stunned skeptic shock. 

Silence. For a long moment that is all, you’re met with. 

Pregnant? You were pregnant with his- His Child? 

Error AkutawaRyunosuke.exe has stopped responding. Please wait a moment as the system tries to restart and reboot.

He’s completely taken aback and unsure what to make of this news and even skeptical, as for a moment the thought that you were only saying such things to avoid your impending punishment comes to him, but the look in your eyes tells him otherwise. Both guilt and regret quickly come to him at how harsh he had been with his aforementioned treatment of you while the two words crawl up his throat and to the tip of his tongue.

Along with this guilt and regret that he has comes anxiety of what that entails and this is one that troubles him greatly. The thoughts of whether or not he is ready to be a father come and stay in his mind constantly since while he has experience with looking after Gin, a baby was a completely different matter and one that he isn’t entirely sure that he’s ready for.

After learning this Akutagawa will take time for himself, leading him to leave the room but not before locking it behind him. During this time he will use this time alone to process the news and you will likely not see him for a few hours or more.

When you do see him in the morning Akutagawa’s uncertainty will still be with him but his demeanor towards you will have changed. He will be more careful towards you and more awkward around you and this is something that is very easily seen when he brings you breakfast the next morning and his body language will seem stiffer. It will only be when you give him reassuring words or touches that he will visibly relax, before just sitting there with you for a while.

Sometimes his eyes will just drift to your stomach and his eyes will just stay on your stomach for a while, while his eyes unconsciously and noticeably soften. If you notice this and tease him about it; his cheeks will darken with an embarrassed blush and he’ll quickly look away, and while he won’t deny it he won’t confirm it either.

Akutagawa will undoubtedly grow even more protective and possessive over you the longer this news sets in, this is something that both he and Atsushi have in common. However, while Atsushi is like a tiger protecting its mate from any danger that poses a threat to them; Akutagawa is like a wolf, baring its fangs and viciously tearing apart any who dare try touching his mate. The fangs will come in the form of the glares that will be seen in his eyes if anyone tries anything with you while you are on an outing; whether it be just a walk through the park at night or to a doctors appointment and it goes without saying that whoever's dumb enough to try to lay a hand on you with ill intent; will be met by those vicious claws in the form of Rashomon, as they tear the fool to shreds without hesitation.

This is something the poor doctor who takes your appointments is not exempt from either, especially if this doctor happens to be a male. The entire time that doctor is giving you a checkup and checking the progress and health of the baby Aktuagawa’s eyes will be watching his every move and if his hands linger a little too long for his liking, his eyes will shift into a glare which will make the poor guy noticeably flinch. Honestly just see a female doctor it’s better for everyone that way. 

Atsushi Nakajima

Atsushi’s response to you trying to escape will be a mixture of self-hatred and desperation. This mix is only pushed on by his obsessive desire and need that he feels to protect you. It goes without saying that Atsushi has never felt much self-worth, he knows that you could do far better than him and that he doesn’t deserve you but at the same time he knows how horrible and cruel this world is, but that will not stop the tears from coming to and from his eyes as he begs you to stay; while he only just holds himself back from grabbing you and holding you to him to keep you from leaving him behind. There are so many people outside that could hurt you or worse! People exactly like the port mafia and he only wants to keep you safe! Isn’t it normal to want to protect the one you love?? You love him too so why won’t you let him??

Along with this mixture is confusion. Why? Why are you trying to escape? You were safe with him, he loved you so much and he’d happily give you anything. He’d wait on you hand and foot if you so desired. He’d do anything for the person who had made him feel wanted and loved for the first time in his life.

Silence would come to Atsushi as he sits next to you having locked the front door upon entering it again and this confusion and frustration will push and pull at him to ask and to demand why you tried to leave. 

When the confession comes from your lips Atushi will be stunned into silence like Akutagawa and for a moment he will just look at you with his lips parted in a small o. In that silence he will be trying to read your expression almost to see if you were lying but then again he knows you wouldn’t lie about something so big, he knew you, that wasn’t like you. 

Pregnant? W-With his baby? You were pregnant with his baby? 

Hearing this will cause his confusion to come to him again, first beginning with why would you want to leave if you were pregnant before the other questions came to his head. Was he ready to be a father??? The very thought made his head spin with confusion and concern. The aspect of being someone's father had never been something that Atsuhi had ever considered. What if he messed up? What if he wasn’t good enough as a father to the child? What if-?? All of these questions that spin around in his head will be joined by the most pressing question. What if this child inherited his ability? 

However at the end of all this one thing seems to reassure him and that’s the fierce will he had to protect you except now it isn’t just you who he wants to protect, but the child inside of you too. Even if the aspect of being a father scares him beyond belief and the possibilities that he would be a horrible father makes him incredibly nervous and worried he knows that there is nothing he can do except try. Despite this worry though, there are no words for how happy he is to learn this.

After he learns of your pregnancy Atsushi’s protectiveness of you will only increase. He is a tiger after all and tigers are always protective over their mates, especially when they’re pregnant with their cubs, however, his obsession with you causes him to be a little overbearing at times to the point where it’s close to smothering, even when you both go out for your appointments. 

Chances are that he will call into the Agency a few times from the desire and need he has to be near you and make sure that you are always comfortable, but when he is at work and on the job Atsushi’s thoughts will be on you constantly.

When at home there’s nothing that Atsushi enjoys more than being curled up next to you on the couch while you are snuggled up in a blanket that he had earlier got you while you either watch TV or just a movie that you wanted to watch. At first he was shy and extremely embarrassed to ask if he could rub your stomach; but after asking a few times even after you said yes it will become second nature to Atsushi and when the baby kicks Atsushi will be unable to keep from gazing at your stomach with both love, awe and amazement at the thought of a child made from the two of you is growing inside of you right now.

Don’t be surprised if you both end up falling asleep with his hand still on your stomach, while his free arm which had transformed into that of a tigers is wrapped around you; the action will seem tender and loving but it will also be to keep you from escaping should you even attempt to do so again.

Osamu Dazai

Given just how perceptive Dazai is it’s very bold of you to even assume that you can hide anything from Dazai, much less the fact that you are pregnant with his child. 

Out of the four of them, it’s extremely likely that Dazai would have already picked up on the signs and put the pieces together, leading him to come to the conclusion himself before you even tell him

On one side he’s hurt that you’d feel the need to hide this from him, but the other is also understanding especially since you hadn’t exactly come into this relationship willingly. 

He’ll continue to act oblivious to this fact and play it off as if everything is normal but every so often he’ll ask you while dropping little hints but never coming right out and saying it, which will lead you to guess if he knows constantly to yourself.

While he does this conflict will be occurring in himself as well. Having children had never been something that he had never considered or really thought about after all his wish was to one day leave this mortal coil and the person he desires to do just that with one day was you. Yet now you were pregnant with his child. This makes him feel conflicted as he does not want to leave this child alone to fend for themselves should he follow through with his desires; as he knows just how cruel this world can be, especially if you have to go through that by yourself. 

Maybe this child could be another source of light and warmth for him just like you are to him. A means for him to find some hope in this world that in the past has given him nothing but darkness, one that he still fights within himself and at times comes to the surface, like his obsession with you.

These thoughts continue to go around in his head as he makes his way home after finally being allowed to come home to you, however when he finds the door unlocked and you nowhere in sight one big torrent of emotions go through him beginning from worry, to panic to fear and then a rage that’s followed by the desire to make whoever took you wish they were dead; only to draw out their suffering before ending their miserable lives for daring to even attempt to take you from him. 

However, as he takes more things into account such as the lack of signs of a struggle and the lack of evidence that leads to that, Dazai comes to another realization. One that will fill him with disappointment and hurt but his anger will not fade. You’d left on your own accord, though he isn’t too worried, he’d find you. He’d always find you and the fact that he knew you down the last detail including your thought process and where you’d likely be it doesn’t take long until he does. 

Once he finds you he’ll greet you with a perfectly innocent smile but one look in his eyes lets you know that that’s just a visage and it’s not long after that he informs you that he knew. He knew everything all along. 

As much as he would love to give you one of his very creative punishments he doesn’t want to harm your child in any way and so he lets you off easily and by the look in his eyes when you get home you know to consider yourself lucky.

While he won’t keep you restrained after your little stunt Dazai’s watch over you will become more intense, and every time you go to an appointment, he is always there; playing the role as the perfect and friendly boyfriend to everyone around you, including the doctor. Should you act hesitant to the point where you begin to draw suspicion from the doctor; the look that he’ll send you for just a moment when no one is looking and the dark curl of a smirk that will appear as an all too familiar warning will quickly change your behavior like a switch as you know full well what awaits if you choose to stir Dazai’s temper. 

However, on a lighter note Dazai’s affectionate, tender and loving side will come out more and he’ll feel relieved at no longer having to act oblivious to the fact that his darling is pregnant. He’ll happily call in sick under the notion that you aren’t feeling well that morning and he has to take care of you but he’ll do this just so he can spend more alone time with you.

Your lack of energy due to your pregnancy will be something that he will take complete advantage of and a majority of these moments will be spent wrapped in Dazai’s embrace as he holds you close to him and cuddles you. He’s not the best cook and is usually lazy but if you ask him to cook you up something easy like instant ramen a well as bring you a glass of orange juice he’ll happily do that for you while making himself up a cup of instant ramen himself, before getting back into bed with you and enjoying his ramen there while you both just relax and enjoy tv. After all, since he’s been dosing your food with that sleeping medicine that he plucked off the shelf on the hospital; due to using his skilled hands why wouldn’t he enjoy every moment without worry.

Chuuya Nakahara

Please for the love of cheese give the Bitter lil Espresso kids. He really wants them, especially with his darling.

If there is ever a moment where his darling is around kids and those gentle and warm smiles come to their expression while they interact with them; a warm feeling will settle in his chest and it will only push on this desire to have them with you someday.

However when you begin to be constantly sick this warm feeling that had started in his chest once again as he found himself thinking back on it to himself will quickly change to concern. At first, he’ll think it’s just a stomach virus that’s going around but then he notices how strange your so-called virus was. You were throwing up constantly. 

As the pieces click together the longer this continues he’ll feel like this is way too good to be true, making him skeptical at first. Chuuya will ask you if you were alright in spite of knowing the answer as a means to push and encourage you to tell him but when you choose not to tell him and instead just give him an excuse that you think is believable others he’ll leave it alone for the time being and just wait until you decide to tell him yourself. 

However, while he is at work his thoughts will be all over the place from the prospect of possibly being a father and then shifting to the possibility that he was just overthinking this and blowing it out of proportion. Sure he wanted kids but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have his doubts and worries, having a parent who's in the Port Mafia wasn’t exactly the ideal parent for any child after all. Still, the thought of having a family with you is and has always been something that Chuuya has secretly wished for, but this is something that he will never admit to anyone but you.

After being cooped up inside with meetings and documents all day all Chuuya wanted was to go home and relax with you, in fact, the thought of seeing you made a soft smile grace his expression for just a moment, the smile he would only ever reserve for you. However, he comes home to find you have not only broken the window but were trying to escape out of it his blood runs cold as the smile completely leaves his expression. 

Fucking hell he thought you were over this! Instantly Chuuya will make a b line for you, grabbing ahold of your arm and pulling you back inside while being very careful not to injure you on the glass. Both hurt and seething from anger Chuuya will be seething inside as he’ll look at you with only barely held back anger in his eyes. If you don’t give him an honest answer then and there his anger will flare to the point where his ability will activate all while his grip stays on the wrist that he had pulled you back inside with. He won’t hurt you but he will use it to hold you down if you insist on being stubborn and not tell him the truth. 

When you do and the answer that a part of him already knew comes to his ears Chuuya’s eyes widen for just a moment before his eyes soften, so you were pregnant. He knew it. All the signs had pointed to that after all, but still, if you were pregnant then why the hell were you trying to leave him? He knew that your relationship wasn’t exactly healthy but everything he’d done had been for you, this was all to protect you, he loved you down to his very marrow and yet you still tried escaping? Again? After all this time?

Due to how hurt he feels over this it will lead Chuuya to become cold towards you for the rest of the night, and should you try to earn his trust again he will be a little bit suspicious at first but soon he’ll begin to relax, after all as much as you hurt him by trying to escape, he could never hate or stay mad at you for too long, those smiles and touches that you gave him made it near impossible for him to and soon enough things will return to ‘normal’ as his warm and passionate side will surface once more. 

Gentle kisses on your cheek and forehead while you sit on his lap while he enjoys a glass of wine on the sofa as you watch tv will be like heaven to him, but not quite as much as knowing that you, his queen were pregnant with his child. Even if he is busy at work he will always make time for you, if you want him to pick up something for you be it food, drink or other things he’ll get it for you on his way home or he’ll stop in when he has time for the purpose of giving you what you asked for and if it’s for an appointment to cheek up on the baby Chuuya will always ensure that he is able to make it to them.

[geektech713]

My Bipolar life & Struggles

My Testimony! living with bipolar & healed of bipolar in 2017 about my 2008 story I am disabled by federal government and state because of my bipolar disorder .  I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder after I started my business outside of high school ..I been fighting for my life since 2001 when I was diagnosed ..I started Digitalrao dba on december 15th 2001 and then I was diagnosed by doctor in  March I was on medication . I was only 18 or 19 when I started my business straight out high school I was about about to start find funding and everything ..but High school friends and bullies at school were making making me fight for get be left alone ..I was throw in ISS most the school year and everything I  eventually left I went to Private Christian school in my town to get school . I am always learning because of my disorder makes me hard to concrete . I am not the violent type of bipolar you hear about ..I like to take care of my issue ASAP before it gets worse , find the doctors to help .I am forced to take medication for my survival and I won’t be able to destroy my life or online rep . For all those who don’t know my testimony . Bipolar Disorder is Mental Illness , I believe it because I gave up on life with my Bullied bad  in high school and standed up against them . I was in school for almost 4 -5 years because of other issues  and then Private I tried to finish early but  I took college Computer Networking class at another High School in our District for extra credit an Air Force ROTC  . I flew once behind the control of small plane too . I have decided to follow Jesus with everything after finding an youth group called Portico at Old lakewood church campus before the moved into stadium ..Lakewood church ..Joel Osteen before that was John Osteen before he went up to the lord . well I was fighting to get my life on the straight path because I was fighting things unseen I don’t want to talk about it was battle over my soul after I got out the hospital and doctor visits and court from trans passing at my high school I  went too   .after couple months of dealing with State over my condition they dismissed my charged I was set free and I came running to God/Jesus because .I know medication and doctors wouldn’t be able to heal me . Bipolar disorder was called Manic Depression . yes I suffer from depression I haven’t been depressed in couple of months It is getting better.  Bipolar is very serious mental condition . it destroys life’s left and right ..I am restart my life after relapse  2 years and took me 2 years of Hard work to get back where I am now but  I had to fight for my life in everything I believe in and test my thinking and mindset and friends . I do my business because it is my dream and It is accident in 2001 Google came out and was just a start up and I heard about I google how to start a business and researched how to get into it ..I am just dba doing business as One day I will have enough money to Corporate it and just watch it grow and let some Jesus let MBA older person lead the company  .well i was saying  .                                                                              I was starting to building up on my own feet with no partnerships or anything I am boot stamping Digital Rao right now But I have partnership with Business Remedy my first independent contract . well one with my story  I was engaged to some girl that I though would be the one well I thought she was real christian and changed but I was wrong ..short story she left me after one of my business owner friends told me she was using me or cheating on me . I was heart Broken . I tried to get computers jobs to keep afloat I was working at Kroger and moved up 3 positions in 9 months of being their from sacker to dairy department but I was asked to be Kroger Department manager because I am career driven  . I told other store manager NO because some off the wall . my X fiance parents and her was telling to say NO to the offer because some stupid reason . but my  personal reason was because I wanted to be in computers not retail environment I left to Truckstop to work the cashiers and learn to run a store at night ..well I was working on my business running , taking calls and going to work at night 10-6am and then I would take calls from my ad’s in yellow pages and online and talk with vendors and so on …Lets say I almost had it but then how my story gets sad and depressing ..well I said my X fiance  . I wanted to go Trade conference in Dallas,TX  an Technology conference I was invited to go as local business I was so happy and my fiance wasn’t I was preparing to go a room at hotel some far to save on gas and food and all expenses just getting ready and then bam . I wanted to go San Antonio or Round Rock,TX aka HQ of DELL ,  I looked at my checking and asked her if wanted to go micro-vacation she told me NO . I said I need to get away from all the stress I am under and get new prospective I was trying to find my balance because I felt unbalanced and drained  . we kissed each other bye and I made to San Antonio and to get some gas and food and my personal checking account bounced on me , came back on me I was denied it was 2 hours after that i got to San Antonio from Houston area . I was at McDonald’s and realized I was broke I was cleaned out ..I had credit balance 500 dollars or more on my personal side and i tried every credit card I had I think .. receive well my other story began I ran out of gas just under the under pass at one dell way under the highway I stalled their and one dell employee put 10 or 20 dollars in my tank I was thankful but after driving short distance wasn't enough to get me to back home I went to find the Dell Diamond ..then I ran out of gas at night by some homes  ..and then I started to walk like Jesus and find someone to help me  . I was desperate I went to walking to 7-11 and asked for job application I wanted to work In Round Rock to get some money . I had crazy idea’s  after failed attempts I talked couple what  happened to me and everything and I went walking to church for help just stay the night or anything it was Sunday night as I was about step on the crosswalk of the church the Round Rock Police pulled nearly arrested me . i told them what happen with me and took me my Chevy Tahoe  , and the mental people checked me out for the County and said you are good to go not going Jail for the Night since you are small business owner from not our area . I was thankful the round rock county took me to Red Roof Inn and then  I tried to call parents and KSBJ to let them pray for me I used Google 411 to make calls out area because it was source to talk to KSBJ prayer volunteer to for my safe return home I was KSBJ Special events volunteer and Share-A-Thon they knew me if i emailed them or anything well long story short I lost everything my Chevy Tahoe and nearly my business nearly went bankrupt but I am fighting that I want to share more but I need to write a book I am looking for someone to tell my whole story about my life , I was in mediation and i heard a voice say Write a book . I meditate every now and then I  have found an Android app to help enter in God so close to hear loud as thunder and everything I know what his voice sounds like   ..I want to finish this up  my ending but I need to do other stuff  . well  my ending I had bitter-heart and nearly went back into the world and go back into all the wrong stuff , not drugs or anything just wrong people and everything . I tried to go back to church but it didn’t work . I ended up asking Jesus/God to break me down until the bare bone which I asked God to make life hell for me and He did because I asked  I need to be broken so I can return back back my where , I had find my bottom my valley ..well 4 months ago I am God Broke me down I had no friends and everything was hell I was broke ..no Job or computer jobs or 2nd jobs to get by ….I had one of my medications Lithium nearly kill me  . .it had poisoned my blood steam I was very sick , so sick ..after I realized it was medication I called my doctor told what was happening, throwing up ,stomach pains ,extreme migraines and it was hell . I was depressed and lonely and out of hope and grace I felt but I wasn’t God was close or nearby I didn’t see him or anything but something snapped in my brain I heard his voice say Fight for you life or Come back one of the two it isn’t your time yet I am not done with you yet i believe  . I said OK lets fight for my life and I live with my parents at 29 because I lost everything I asked my dad to take me to the  hospital he didn’t I begged and pleaded with him I was in no condition to drive to my Hospital ER in Sugar land for treatment I didn’t think of 911 and deal wit the police and EMS people and causing the whole street getting blocked off because of sickness I was dealing with   ..so I went to bed and fought my demons and sickness and asked God to help me get out of sickness I was tired of being sick for 3 to 5 months at all at once .. well I asked I asked God in my room after listening to KSBJ.org I was doing anything to try to get back to God after 2 years being in the wildness I am back to God I am getting praise and thanksgiving every second I have with God .. God and Jesus and Holy Spirit  ..I know the trinity .God is Love and God is grace and God is restore and many things ..I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.. Not by might nor by power my but my by spirit says the the lord Almighty .. I have many verses on my heart they will come to me  …. 2012 update here is my update I dated the wrong girlfriend she wasn’t Christian then i fell from grace after that months later I got Baptist at The 429 and made friends with wrong people and left church for awhile i didn’t even realize  i was blind and isolated to the point I didn’t have any friends to say ..in the process i lost everything again my grandma’s car broke down and won’t turn over and i lost my 2nd business Digitalrao Solutions . A couple days ago i went to see one of my Christian friends at her Christian resale shop called by Faith and she was in bad shape but had positive outlook on where she was going and had faith of mustard seed i see God flowing out when we were talking , she said alot of things i been dealing with myself one thing i said i had doubt , then slowly God started to turn on the heat on me to point i was crying and asking for forgiveness and then i got invited couple weeks ago before that Go back to church with old jr high school friend and God was talking to me thru sunday and service . I did fall from Grace ..i wasn’t the best example but I have turn from my old ways . Got right with him .. well to continue my story i was getting hell from church members calling my business line at the time i just was start up with Digitalrao Solutions,dba maybe my 3 year as start up and then Dealing with G-watts BBQ Pit  i was doing all kind programming and setup Comcast Business internet for him  and then they got the wrong tablet for square i told them go get ipad they did i did more programming even paid for fake charities he had too ..one time  i found the owner coming out of BBQ pit with red eyes he was doing some kind of drugs i caught him even partner too .. i asked do you gamble too then Micka forgot to pay my invoices they're protesting my invoices when i did 2 free jobs and then almost 3rd one ..then they hire a The Church volunteer member was volunteering lot with him i was made MVP once during winter times no one else couldn't handle Texas blue Norther's like me  so i was only one doing traffic and setting up stuff to get attention of drivers then i was dealing dealing FBI/CIA/NSA even caught Spy Satellite in the sky on my horizon then falling off into distance because I called Obama out on what he is doing and i said i know what your planning to do ..i think you know who i am on twitter ..so i was being then i got a call from mexican women not saying where that they're going to kidnap me this was Mexican drug cartels after me too then my dad started to get bitter about me approved for cars left and right but kicked to the road and walking took me off insurance he just had big anger issue since i was apart of GOP Harris county Liberty Freedom Caucus he refused to take me GOP events or go so they fired me  , then one of the Rosenberg Cops told me ya ur getting watched by cartels we see cars driving by i am not giving locations of cameras lol anyway then 2 days later i had panic mode fearing from everything around me that they might shoot up the place but then did something stupid ..later realized it was setting up for Success when i got to Group home my dad wouldnt let me come home , anyways i was in group home for 3 months then i didn't start to go back to Church of Living Waters until 6 or 8 th month because i was afraid of church who i would run into or accuse me again sometimes i run into accusers at Church of living waters they dont say anything to me . i am am slowly going back to Church of Living waters Darren Frank seen what i been thru sometimes i txt him too much ,  or quit  anyways , Jimn Kyles had nothing to do with me but Pastor Darren Frank took me under his wings and protected me and even prophecy saying i will have no friends ya that is where i am at now  . back the story I was going around town causing chaos when one time i went Mexican restaurant saying i did Youtube video of this place y'all are made here but they called the Police on me Kicked me out  anyways the most famous restaurant located by the place now they're up for sale   back to story i was saying Rosenberg Police Sargent called me criminal over my bipolar i finally gave up my secret i was one filing FBI IC3 reports they didn't know who it was ..then Assistant Police Chief got caught now facing charges anyways .. now i am giving member of Church of Living waters in Rosenberg ..i don’t give to buy out God i give to because i am generous giver, I got healed of Bipolar disorder in July ,2017 still going thru process dealing with Therapist and Family doctors that don't understand what happen to me . 2020 update my Pdoc at Texana took myself off Deproke , i haven’t had depression in 3 years so i am off my depression med , just taking 1 medication If Technical side like my Businesses use geektech713@gmail.com until i can buy back my domains back !  i do need money to live ...I want to  INC up ASAP  .

[amidalasmistress]

You Were Never Gone || Duncan Shepherd x Reader

pairing; Duncan Shepherd x Reader

summary; After a failed assassination attempt on the president, Duncan’s wife and the president’s daughter (reader) suffers from amnesia after a harsh fall.

warnings; angst, mentions of brain damage and memory loss, & swearing

a/n; I thought of this story this morning while getting Dunkin’ Donuts. I apologize.

words; 4,562

reference; You Were Never Gone by Hannah Ellis

-

Duncan sat in his apartment, gazing out of a window. Watching as the rain left tears rolling down the glass. The day was rather dull. The air smelled of thick petrichor. Some may find it soothing to the senses, normally Duncan would but, not today. All he could think of was the woman he had lost. His best friend, his love, his wife. Y/N was her name. Beautiful, absolutely stunning. Especially when she smiled. Oh god did Duncan miss that smile.

It had been a full year since the assassination attempt on the president that ended up damaging the president’s daughter. The president was in the middle of a rally, one in which Y/N had attended. Standing pretty at her mother’s side. Duncan could only watch from a tv monitor across the country. He watched as the first shot was fired. He watched as his Y/N fell off the stage shortly before they cut the footage. Instantly Duncan had a private helicopter fly him to D.C. Duncan can remember the air that day. Dry and extremely thin. It was hard to get in a full breath anyways. Immediately his mind went to the worst possibility. He could lose Y/N without saying goodbye. The fear of losing her clenched around his heart as he watched her heart monitor.

Y/N was out for days. Days that Duncan refused to leave the hospital. No matter how many times his mother or Claire had advised him to. He was always at her side. Holding her hand. Reading to her. Begging for her to wake up. And she did. She woke up. Duncan couldn’t remember a time when he had been so happy. The only memories that could come close was her saying yes to his proposal of marriage and when they actually tied the knot. Duncan remembered falling to his knees and thanking the universe for bringing her back to him. He remembered looking back at her after she had finally opened her eyes only to see her watching him in absolute confusion. Then the doctor, followed by some nurses, had entered her room. Examining her and asking her questions on how she felt.

“I feel fine,” her voice was groggy from days of endless sleep. “It’s just my head. I have a massive headache.”

“Hey, baby,” Duncan made a move to touch her but she flinched away. “I’ve missed you.”

She only continued to look at him as if he were a stranger, “And who are you?”

Duncan’s heart dropped. The doctor and nurses stopped what ever they were doing there and then.

He let out a laugh, “Come on, Y/N. Don’t mess with me.”

“Uh,” she raised an eyebrow. “I have no idea who you are, sir.”

Duncan felt his stomach hit the floor and his chest cave as he looked to the doctor, who was watching the scene unfold before his very eyes. He remembered when they told him that she had hit her head when she fell. That it was slightly possible that she may wake with some sort of brain damage. Slightly. Slightly. Only slightly.

Duncan remembered when they had asked him to step outside while they asked her questions. What she can or cannot remember. They tested her reflexes and balance. His mother had arrived in the waiting room, holding his hand as they waited for him to be called back in. Claire had arrived with her security shortly after Annette had. Keeping her distance from them. She never approved of Duncan for her daughter. And she always had a hateful relationship with his mother. She kept her distance to avoid any arguments.

“Mr. Shepherd,” the doctor had called out.

Claire raced to the doctor before Duncan stood. “How is she doing? Is she feeling okay? Is there something wrong? What’s happening to my daughter?”

“I’m sorry, Madam President,” the doctor looked past her to Duncan. “She only gave me permission to talk to her husband.”

Claire looked to Duncan like he had cheated her at something. Duncan never cared for Claire’s spiteful looks and he especially didn’t care now. Annette patted him on the back before he walked with the doctor down to outside Y/N’s room. With only the door between him and his life, Duncan still felt the world desperately trying to keep them apart.

“Well, Mr. Shepherd,” the doctor put his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “I have some good news and some bad news for you. Which of the two would you like to hear first?”

Duncan swallowed, “Just tell me, doc. Is my wife okay?”

“Mr. Shepherd, your wife does not remember you. She does not remember the rally. She does not remember anything past the age of nineteen.”

Duncan was at a loss of words. The words “your wife does not remember you” played over and over and over in his mind. Was his hearing okay? Was he imagining things from the lack of sleep? Was he laying on the floor of his apartment after passing out at the sight of his wife dropping off the stage? The sound of his heartbeat cancelled out any other sounds. The thoughts, the sound, the reality was all too much for him to handle.

His stomach twisted in discomfort, “Wha-Wha-…How?”

“Sir, it seems that, due to the impact her head made with the ground, your wife is suffering from a concussion. Which her amnesia is a symptom of.”

“Amnesia?” Duncan took a step back. He was, in no way, prepared to hear that term when describing his wife’s current state. “How long? Is it temporary?”

“We can’t say, Mr. Shepherd,” the doctor bowed his head. “There is a possibility that your wife may never recover from this but, there’s also a chance she may remember. Only time will tell. I’m sorry.”

That was the day Duncan Shepherd’s life had turned upside down.

Duncan had devoted his time to research upon research on how to trigger her memory’s restoration. He made special trips to the White House, where she had been staying since being released from the hospital, to bring her the flowers that decorated the wedding venue and their reception. He would specially spray himself in the cologne she favored on him. Still nothing. It had now been seven months since the news of her amnesia. Claire grew tired of his visits and limited to him only having a few hours with her five days a week. At least she was still giving him a chance to restore her memory but, Claire thought her amnesia was a perfect way to get rid of him.

“I finally found the band that played our song at our wedding, Y/N,” Duncan was anxiously putting the CD they had made for him into his laptop. “Maybe this might help.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Y/N began to grow irritated with herself. She wanted so badly to remember for him and the woman she was before the incident. She hated watching him try so hard with all of these different smells, people, sounds, fabrics, touches only for his efforts to fail. He was too nice. He deserved his wife back. But she was gone.

“Just let me try, please,” Duncan’s voice shook. “I need to try. If I don’t, I’ll be left with nothing.”

Y/N nodded and he pressed play. The band had a special message to the both of them in the beginning:

“Hey man. We’re sorry to hear about your situation. We’re also glad that you had reached out to us for this. We’ve watched the wedding tape and memorized every note and beat. Hopefully, we can bring your wife’s memory back. You two were the most beautiful couple we had ever played for. So in love and happy. Well, I’ll shut up now and play. Here it goes.”

They played the song perfectly. If Duncan closed his eyes, he would’ve been transported back to that day. To dancing with his wife during their first dance. Looking into her eyes and wondering how he had been so lucky. What ever had made her choose him out of anyone, he would never understand. She was so pure. So perfect. She deserved more than what this world could ever give her. And because the world was so jealous of such a beautiful, untouchable creature, the world had done this to her.

Once the song had finished, Duncan looked to Y/N, wide-eyed and hopeful. She wasn’t looking at him though. She only looked to the ground, fidgeting with her fingers and tears in her eyes. She hadn’t remembered.

“Hey, hey,” Duncan bent down in front of her, caressing her face. “It’s okay. I can try to find something else.”

“No, Duncan,” she snapped. “Just stop. Please stop.”

“Y/N, I can’t lose you,” his voice was still shaking and tears burned behind his eyes. “I can’t-“

“She’s gone, Duncan,” the words like poison on her tongue. “I can’t bring her back. The woman you knew is gone. When are you going to realize that?”

Duncan let a tear fall and she wiped it away before she stood. The worst fear he had was of losing her and he most likely had. He was certain his heart had stopped beating for a few moments. He can’t lose her. How would he cope without her? She was his life. Without her, he might as well be dead. Although he had high hopes for her memories to return, if she couldn’t remember him, they could always press the restart button. Make new memories.

“Well, maybe,” Duncan stood and went over to the window where she was now. “Maybe we can try a new relationship. We are still married after all. We can start fresh and-“

“Duncan,” her head hung low, tears streaming down her face. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want a relationship that begins with someone trying to fix me when I’m not broken,” she moved to across the room now. “I’m not broken, Duncan. I just can’t remember. And I’m so sorry that I can’t because you are…so amazing,” her voice cracked from how hard she was crying now. “You deserve to have your wife back. You deserve someone who remembers all of those beautiful memories. You deserve…so much better than this.”

“Don’t give up on me, Y/N,” Duncan raced over to her. “I’ll never stop trying. I need you. You. No one else.”

“I hate myself, Duncan!”

The world had seemed to close around them. She hated herself? Duncan never realized that his efforts would have this effect on her. He stumbled back a bit. Feeling like he had just been slapped in the face.

“I hate myself because I’m the one doing this to you,” Y/N breathed. “I don’t want to be the cause of anyone’s pain. You’ve been nothing but great and I truly don’t know what I had done to deserve you,” she took a few steps towards him now, her hand resting on his upper arm. “But, I can’t do this anymore. I need to breathe. I need you to stop.”

Duncan had only one question on his mind, “Well,…what about us?”

“Oh, Duncan,” she shook her head, resting her hand at her side now. “Our marriage ended the moment I had woken up in that hospital. I think it’s time to-“

“Don’t say it,” Duncan backed away, remembering the annulment papers that had been delivered to the apartment two months ago. “Do not fucking say it, Y/N. You know I can’t."

“It’s over, Duncan,” her lip trembled. “You need to move on.”

“I can’t move on,” he rushed to gently grab her by her arms. “You’re it for me. You’re the only one for me.”

Y/N backed away, turning her back to face him. The sound of his heart shattering filled the room, “Just go, Duncan. Go home and sign the papers. It’s what’s best for the both of us.”

Right then her head of security had opened the door. Looking at Duncan like he needed to be removed immediately. As if he had been an insect roaming the house and outsmarting them every time they went to catch him. Duncan’s thoughts went numb and he had forgotten how to breathe. That was it. That was the end of all things good in the world.

It had been four months since he last saw her. The papers still sitting on his countertop. The thought of them being in the same building made him sick let alone his apartment. He occasionally turned on the television to watch for any updates. He knew he couldn’t rely on Claire to tell him whether her daughter had remembered something or not. After a few meltdowns, Duncan had convinced himself that he was crazy for even thinking that there was any slight possibility that she’d come back to him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to sign the papers. He’d stand at his counter, pen in hand, trying to talk himself into doing it but, he couldn’t. If he had signed them, it would mean that he was giving up. Which, was something Duncan refused to do with anything. That’s how he had gotten Y/N to go out with him for the first time.

Duncan had assured himself that he had waited long enough. Today was the day that he would put the pen to paper. Signing away his marriage as if it were nothing. Their marriage would no longer exist. Those three years of happiness erased with just the stroke of a fucking pen.

After staring long and hard out the window for seven hours, he finally stood. Stretching out his legs before walking over to where his kitchen was located. Pen in hand. He slid the papers to where they were right in front of him. He stared long and hard at her signature. Duncan was numb. He had been numb for so long, he couldn’t remember how it felt to be alive. Only memories of living. He was now a ghost. Lifeless.

Taking in one big inhale, he signed. His stomach hallowing as his hand moved to write out his inscription. Once he finished, he threw the pen across the living room and made his way over to his bedroom. He had decided that he would mail it out later on. But, first, he needed to sleep. Sleep off all of the thoughts and feelings that pressed him into this shell of hopelessness. Just like that, Duncan had signed his marriage away.

-

Four and a half months had gone by since Y/N had last seen or spoken to Duncan Shepherd. She had given herself time to breathe before returning to the public eye. Her mother ranting and raving about how her husband still hadn’t signed or even sent out the papers. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The love he had for her was one she had only seen in movies and she couldn’t really cherish it. She couldn’t remember him. She couldn’t be the woman he had fallen in love with. How time could be erased at a swift blow to the head, Y/N was amazed. Yet, her heart had felt empty and, quite frankly, gone. Although she had grown close to Duncan, all she saw when he was with her was how restless he was trying to bring her memories back. She couldn’t build a love off of being a burden to someone. No matter how many times he had reassured her otherwise.

It was a seemingly sunny day after it had been raining for weeks. She was surprised that D.C. hadn’t become an ocean. Y/N had been up for hours bingeing some tv show she had forgotten the name of. She wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening on the screen. She just had it on to keep her mind busy. Her mother was gone at some meeting at the Capitol.

The male head of her security had entered the room after a few warning knocks. Y/N paused the tv and sat up, “Good morning, Shamus.”

“G’morning, Miss Y/N,” he stood near the sitting area, hands folded before him. “Your mother has asked me to see if you were awake and, if so, to send for breakfast.”

“Breakfast sounds good,” Y/N smiled. “But, can we try something different? Everyone keeps on bringing me Starbucks when I really don’t like it anymore.”

“Your mother had assured us that Starbucks was your favorite, miss,” Shamus adjusted his shoulders. “But, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Y/N excused him with a nod. “And I would like donuts rather than breakfast biscuits or burritos.”

Y/N had started on another episode as time went by. Her stomach rumbling for something warm and sweet in her belly. Shamus had only been gone for twenty minutes and it had seemed like forever.

“Here you go,” Shamus had re-entered the room, a brown paper bag in his hand. “I sent out for some Dunkin’ Donuts.”

Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had Dunkin’ Donuts. Maybe the last memory was located in the time that she had forgotten, “Thank you, Shamus.”

She took the bag and, like a flash, she saw Duncan Shepherd bringing her the same kind of bag accompanied by an eye-roll. She saw her hands take the bag from him, her wedding ring flashing in the sunlight. The smell of the donuts making her even hungrier. Shamus must’ve noticed for he gave her a look of concern.

“Is everything alright, miss?”

“Yeah,” she blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-“

Y/N hurried to open the bag, the smell of the paper triggering another memory of Duncan sitting at a table with her. Pulling out the wrapped food and setting down a box of a dozen donuts. She remembered him sliding the hot chocolate he had bought her because she hated the taste of coffee. Y/N brought out a donut and took a large bite of it. It all hit her as she chewed. She fell back onto the couch as if someone had pushed her.

Memory after memory flooding in like a crowd waiting to be let into a storm shelter as a hurricane was vastly approaching. Their first date, god Duncan looked so damn good in a suit. She felt so underdressed and reticent. She normally wasn’t shy around Duncan Shepherd but, she definitely was that night. Maybe because they had pulled a Romeo and Juliet with their feuding families. She remembered how they kept their relationship hidden until Duncan had proposed. Flashes of them sneaking away to a nearby closet or office to have discreet sexual encounters. Only he made the heat rise in her belly so hot it was irresistible.

She remembered how he wanted her to organize their wedding into her dream wedding. He didn’t care how big or small or what decorated what, just as long as she would be his. Their honeymoon, however, he had planned in secret. She had no idea where they were going. It was a dream of hers to go to Bora Bora but, even though she had the money to go, she didn’t go until their honeymoon. The pilot of their private jet was given instructions to not say where they were going until they had landed on Tahitian soil.

Y/N let tears out as she swallowed down the bite she had taken out of the delicious pastry, “Oh my god,” she put her fingers to her mouth, Shamus looked ready to help her if she had been poisoned. “I remember,” Shamus froze as if he had just witnessed a miracle. “I remember everything.”

-

“You should come out with us tonight, Mr. Shepherd,” his secretary, Jen, had interrupted his train of thought. “Come have some fun for once.”

Duncan smiled at her gesture to get him out of going home to his lonely apartment after work, “No thanks, Jen. You guys go. Have fun. I’d only be in the way of having a good time.”

Duncan had hired Jen shortly after he and Y/N were married. She was the most competent secretary he had ever had. She handled everything when Duncan missed work for weeks following his wife’s injury. Jen had also befriended Y/N. She’d send his wife lunch when he was in a business meeting with a message for her regarding his work day. Jen was like a sister to both Duncan and Y/N.

“I don’t like seeing you like this, Duncan,” she pulled her coat over her shoulders. “You should get out once in a while. What do you do when you get home anyways?”

“I’m fine, Jen,” Duncan gripped his briefcase in his hand. “Really.”

“What ever you say,” she turned off her desk lamp. “You have my number in case you change your mind. We’d really love for you to join us.”

“Thank you,” Duncan locked the door of his office behind him. “Have a nice time tonight, Jen. You deserve it after all of your hard work.”

The Shepherd Foundation building closed early due to Easter being the next day. Duncan would rather work than be home though. He never thought he’d feel that way until…until everything. He and Jen walked out of the building and into the blinding daylight. She had placed a kiss on his cheek before walking over to her car.

Duncan watched his feet as he walked along the pavement to his ride until he saw someone standing near the car. His head shot up to see Y/N. She was wearing leggings and a baggy, purple t-shirt. She looked like she had been running. The sight of her was beyond the point of satisfaction. Even if she didn’t remember him. He had remembered her. All too well. Every feature. Every hair that poked out of her skin. He knew her more than he could ever know himself. And she had a familiar look on her face.

“Hey,” he said after an eternity of not speaking to her. “I’m sorry about the papers. I’ll send them soon.”

“Oh,” she took a step back. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have come.”

“Wait a second,” Duncan called to her before she turned completely around. “Why are you here?”

“Well,” she shrugged, walking towards him now. “I wanted to see how you were doing. We were so close this past year. I just thought-“

“That we could be friends?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. She didn’t know how to approach him. How to make her visit appropriate. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bench. A bench she hadn’t noticed before even though she passed it every time she had visited him at work. “Can we sit? I want to hear about your day. I want to just…catch up. Is that okay?”

Duncan felt the long gone feeling of happiness flutter in his stomach, “Yeah. Of course.”

They sat on the bench as Duncan had filled her in on his day and how the past four and a half months had been. Y/N watched him as he spoke. How his blue eyes shined with the sun. His hair somewhat tame except for a loose curl that hung in his face. He was the same. The exact same man she had fallen so deeply in love with. The man she had forgotten and remembered with a bite of Dunkin’ fucking Donuts. He was so beautiful. Like the gods had crafted him to ultimate perfection. She watched as he would occasionally reach up to scratch at his stubble. Oh god how she had missed his stubble. The feeling of it scratching along her neck and, her favorite, thighs. She almost gave away the reason why she was there so many times while he was filling her in. But, this was too good. She had him. And she had him good.

“How have you been?” He asked her after he had finished speaking. “Anything new?”

Y/N nearly started laughing, “Not really. Although I am supposed to be making my first official public appearance in three days. I’m doing good though. I have this dinner to attend tonight but, I wanted to see you first.”

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Duncan smiled. Y/N’s heart worshipped that fucking smile. “We should go,” he stood, offering a hand to help her up. “I don’t want to keep you from getting ready for tonight.”

“Right, of course,” she smiled as she took his hand. His touch sending warmth throughout her. “It was nice seeing you though. I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

“Same here,” Duncan flinched as she reached up to brush the curl back and out of his face. That was something he was only used to his wife doing.

“Well,” she took a step back. A smirk itching at her lips. “I’ll see you around,…Donut.” She turned around and began to walk away very slowly.

Duncan, on the other hand, stood there. Frozen. His mind trying to wrap around what the fuck just happened. First she brushed his loose curl back. Something no one even attempted to do other than his wife. Then, she called him “Donut”. A nickname she had given him after joking about his name and the popular food chain. “Donut”, “Donut”, only his Y/N…called him “Donut”…

Y/N felt him take her arm and jerk her back around. His lips immediately pressing to hers. Tears of relief fell from her eyes. Her arms wrapped around him to pull him closer and he did the same to pull her in even closer. The familiar electricity igniting their heart rate as they continued to reunite in this form of affection. His Y/N was back. She was finally fucking back.

“When?” he breathlessly pulled away.

“Today,” she pressed her forehead to his. “Like an hour ago.”

“Oh god,” he pressed his lips to hers again, his stomach dropping like he was on a rollercoaster. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

She laughed, “What can I say? I’m dramatic.”

Duncan could only repeatedly kiss her. She had finally returned to him. Tears streaming down his face. Wet paths outlining the shape of his smile. It seemed impossible.

“Don’t you,” Duncan interrupted himself by kissing her again, “ever,” kiss, “do that,” kiss, “to me again.”

Duncan had kissed her so many times it felt like their lips would fall off. Neither of them cared though. They’ve been craving this touch for a long, long time now.

“I’m sorry,” she was crying, brushing her fingers throughout his hair. “I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I couldn’t remember.”

“Don’t apologize,” he shook his head, pressing his forehead to hers once again. “You’re here. You’re back.”

She looked up into his eyes, it was like looking into the ocean, “I was never gone. I just needed some donuts.”

Duncan couldn’t help but laugh, “What?”

“Apparently,” she smiled as she swallowed. “All I needed was some Dunkin’ Donuts.”

“Dammit,” Duncan threw his head back out of frustration, she laughed at the action. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

“Well,” she cocked her head to the side, biting the inside of her lip. “You did always hate the references.”

“Fuck me, Y/N,” he pressed his lips to hers again. Relishing in the fact that he finally has the love of his life back. “You were never gone.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I was just waiting for my Donut."

[fishdavidson]

Dream Journal 2019-06-27: An Unusual Movie Called QST.B32

All right, so this dream is probably going to be far too long for the amount of time I have to write tonight, but I will do my best to get as complete and concise a summary as I can. Part of the reason for its length is that I was pretty lucid for a large part of it, in addition to its vividness.

The dream begins in a nondescript bedroom that appears to belong to an older teenager or young adult. A black shelf is built into the wall next to me, empty except for a DVD case and an almanac of economic statistics. Someone has circled various statistics in the book, and I know deep down in my gut that this is supposed to mean something. I recognize the DVD --which is labeled QST.B32-- as an underappreciated cult film that I have yet to see.

I take both of them.

Flash forward a bit, and I have watched the movie and promptly become obsessed with it. This movie is unique among most other movies because there are hundreds of scenes hidden on the disc that you will probably never see. The only way to see them is to find hidden branch points that will allow you to change the story.

I watch the movie again. And again. And again. I trawl the internet for tips and rumors of how to find the dozens of scenes I haven’t yet witnessed. Once the internet stops giving up secrets, I turn to other sources. I am convinced that the book of economic statistics from earlier is somehow related to uncovering all that this movie can offer.

My brain gets a bit jumbled with events here, because things are simultaneously happening and not happening. The boy from whose room I took the book and DVD has died of unknown causes. He is also alive and fearful of an impending event known as “Bounce Day.” And he is unconscious and much younger, lying face-down on the tile floor of a kitchen.

This is where the lucidity kicks into overdrive.

Somehow the DVD, the book, and the reality in which I find myself are all interrelated. My reality is now that of the DVD, and I am at a narrative branch point. I also now have the ability basically make a “bookmark” at the current point in the film/reality, but each time I make a bookmark, the next one has to be closer to the end of the film.

Reality spans several days until it reaches “Bounce Day” at the end of the film. Once it reaches this point, I have the option to restart the film from the beginning and make different decisions to change what happens in the story. My goal from now on is to understand what exactly “Bounce Day” is and to stop the boy from the beginning of this dream from ending up dead.

I go through the events a few more times, trying to figure out where some hidden branch points are. The only thing that I can carry between replays is the book of statistics, so I use it to create a notation system for tracking which branches I’ve seen and where decision points are likely to be.

Everything seems to be laden with meaning and subtext. Otherwise unrelated or meaningless objects want to share secret messages with my brain somehow. I become more attuned to the weird little waypoints that indicate where in the narrative I am. These waypoints are all little things like the expiration dates on grocery store coupons, or status messages on gas pumps (like “no change given at this terminal”).

Some decision points always occur during the flow of the narrative, while others only show up if certain conditions are fulfilled. By this point, I’ve experienced the film several dozen times. I’ve located several fuel pumps that function like debugging menus and let me sidestep certain branches and move forward and backward through time via a process known as “advancing the room.”

Bounce Day is the first mystery that gets solved. It occurs in the timeline where the boy dies, and Bounce Day is some sort of cataclysmic event that will bring about a major civil war filled with bullets and bombs. If I can prevent the boy from dying before the end, I can probably prevent Bounce Day.

On the next playthrough, I make a bookmark before the boy dies and knock him unconscious instead. This is the timeline where most of the stuff I haven’t seen before is located. My notes in the book indicate where the first new branch should probably occur. I steal a car and drive very slowly through a specific parking lot to travel through some sort of demonic portal to a new parallel reality where time doesn’t exist in a linear fashion and there are more overtly supernatural beings (though everything otherwise looks identical).

I make another bookmark here.

This portion is extremely chaotic and the decision points seem even more arbitrary. After another dozen runthroughs from this point, I am pretty confident that the only way to prevent Bounce Day and keep the boy alive is to secure the help of a blue demonic assassin named Bella. But the only way to get Bella to appear in a scene where she is not outright hostile to you is to figure out the arbitrary patterns that govern her appearance.

The position of two pieces of wood in a barren concrete room with a thin layer of water on the floor dictated this for some reason. One particularly advantageous path put me in contact with another human named Matt who worked as an agricultural scientist before he ended up having to work on finding a way to avert Bounce Day. He gave me a packet of instructions that detailed more hidden paths (which got documented in my book) and told me how to find weapons and ammunition I could use to defend myself.

I took Matt’s plans and made another bookmark. I started cycling through different paths until I found one that gave me about 30 seconds to reach Bella before she entered into a gunfight with another assassin. I jumped down a massive staircase in order to beat the rival assassin to Bella and secured her assistance right as the gunfire started breaking out.

At this point I had found all the passages through the movie and found the best possible ending to the film. But all was not finished!

Upon reaching the end this time, I was transported back to the bedroom from the beginning of the dream. But this time around, I was outside of the movie reality. The book and DVD were still there, but all the notes I had made in my journeys were still in the book. The boy from the beginning was maybe 5 or 6 years old at this point.

My purpose in this dream, it turns out, was to map out every pathway through a treacherous alternate reality for this boy. He was destined to be the one who would avert Bounce Day in this reality.

Good luck, kid; you’ll need it.

[akamaiden]

All The Time

A/N: This is my entry for the 3,5k Writing Challenge hosted by @dangerousvikings and @lisinfleur. Again, I give an amount of zero fucks about Infinity War plot. The events on this fic is settled after Civil War. Enjoy! ♥

Gif belongs to: @camilabarnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.

Prompts: “I could literally choke you right now.” “I might be into that.” + “You’re such a dirty girl, of course this excites you.”

Warnings: Angst, language, brief mentions of violence and smut.

Words: 1,996.

“Are you serious, Tony?” you sighed annoyed.

“Y/N, it's me or you going in this mission. You know that I'm trying to get used to the idea, but it's hard,” Tony said.

You looked at Tony and he had the saddest expression ever on his face. You caressed his shoulder gently before saying, “Don’t try too hard, just take your time. And okay, I'll go in that mission with Barnes. It's just a mission right?”

“You’re the best, Y/N,” he said hugging you.

“Yeah, yeah, anyways. I'm just doing this because it's for you, metal head,” you said hugging him back.

Tony was more than a friend for you, he was a brother. And considering that he was trying to get used to coexist in the same place that Barnes, you could try to. But this didn't mean that you forgive him, it was really hard to believe that whatever HYDRA did, he didn't control his actions for once.

Deep inside, you believed that maybe James Barnes liked to be a deadly weapon. He was one of the most fatal assassins, he enjoyed this somehow. At least, was what you thought.

*

“Why he can't go with his boyfriend? Why me? Damn, Tony is definitely owing me one,” you were complaining for probably the third time.

You were making a cup of hot milk with honey to help you to get some sleep because all you could think off is how unfair you had to go on one a mission with the unique person in the team which you didn't talk, not even a single word.

“Do you talk to yourself constantly? I mean, I need to know considering that we're going on one mission together,” Bucky said cocky.

“Goddammit, Barnes!” you hissed angrily. He scared the hell out of you, but obviously that you'd never say that loud. “Do you always approach people like this?” You said rolling your eyes.

“Why are you interested about how I approach people?” he said smirking.

You simply rolled your eyes because unfortunately you couldn't rip that damn smirk from his face.

“I’m not interested in anything you do, just for you to know,” you said and started drinking your milk.

“If you say so,” he shrugged and you noticed that he had broad shoulders.

Okay he's kinda beautiful, just a bit, but he's a fucking psycho, you thought to yourself.

“Nice PJ's,” he said trying to suppress a giggle.

“Oh for Christ's sake! You have a vibranium arm and you want to mock my PJ's?”

“It’s the strongest metal on earth. What can you say about your unicorn PJ's?” he said proudly.

“Good for you, put in your ass and give me a break,” you said rolling your eyes at him and leaving him alone while he restarted giggling.

“Asshole,” you said angrily.

“I heard that, Y/N!” he said still laughing.

Once in your room, you slammed the door shut and tried to have a good night of sleep, because unfortunately you'd leave really early with that asshole that people called Bucky.

Happily during the travel Bucky didn't talk to much, and for that you were grateful.

Actually he looked extremely focused, much to your liking.

When you arrived at the suspicious new HYDRA base, you saw Bucky got tense. And somehow that touched you.

“Barnes, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,”

But you noticed that his voice sounded lower than usual. You patted his shoulder and smiled to him.

“You’re bigger than this, we can do this,” you said even that you didn't know where your attitude came from.

“Okay… Ready?” he asked.

You nodded and you slowly entered the building, it seemed an abandoned place, judging by how clean it wasn't.

“I thought we'd be welcome by dozens of trained assassins,” you said lowering your gun, noticing that the place seemed desert.

“There’s something strange, here,” Bucky said.

“Trust me, there's nothing more strange than us going on a mission together,” you said.

“Can you stop talking for a second?” he said.

“Can you be more a pain in the ass than this?”

“I could literally choke you right now, if this means that you'll shut your mouth,”

“I might be into that,” you teased.

He lowered his gun and tilted his head looking at you attentively, but before he could answer you that dozens of trained assassins came and then it was chaos.

You and Bucky against a lot of men that were there to kill or be killed. Happily, without serious bruises you and Bucky passed of them.

You found a room full of prisoners, each one tied on their bed.

“They’re doing experiments on them… Just like they did to me,” Bucky said.

“I know this is hard for you, but we need to help those people, James,” you said.

“It’s the first time you say my name,” he verified.

“Don’t get used to-” the phrase died in your mouth when you felt the cold metal of a gun pressed against your temple.

“Thank you for bringing him back to us, Ms. Y/L/N,” the man said in a thick accent.

“Let her go,” Bucky said.

“She can go as long as you come to me,” the man said.

“Bucky, don't listen to him!” you said.

“You’re talking a way too much,” the man said pulling at your hair.

Bucky used this little distraction to shot him in the shoulder.

“You pig!” you said once he was hissing in pain and you stood up and kicked his stomach, making he curl up on the floor.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked.

“It’s okay, c'mon let's go,” you said and started freeing those people. “We need reinforcements, right now!” you said and started screaming when you saw Bucky being shot.

“Goddammit!” you walked towards to the guy that was on the floor and when he was about to kill himself, you pulled him by his hair and hit his head against the floor knocking him out. Even that he had passed out, you handcuffed him just to be sure.

“You okay?” you said reaching for Bucky.

“Yes, it wasn't serious,” he said.

Once you were back in the compound, you helped take the people you found on HYDRA's base, Doctor Cho needed to check on them.

You went to your room and took a long bath, you were tired. You got up to make your usual milk before you sleep.

When you finished your drink, you remembered that since you arrived you didn't talk to Bucky. Okay, he wasn't your best friend, but you decided to check on him even so.

You knocked on his door and after some time he opened the door for you. You chuckled seeing the surprise in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you asked pointing this flesh arm.

“Yes, I… Wait, did you come check on me?” he asked.

“I was just trying to be nice, James,” you said rolling your eyes.

“I know, sorry. Come in,” he said.

It's not a good idea, you thought but entered anyways.

“You did well, today… I know that it was kinda difficult for you,” you said while you tried to memorize the details of his room.

“I thought it'd be harder to be honest,” he said.

“Can I sit?” you asked pointing to his bed, to which he nodded and sat at your side. “Do you think they were trying to make new winter soldiers?” you continued.

“Probably. I wasn't the only one,” he said.

You noticed that every time someone talked about this dark phase of his life he changed, he seemed distant and uncomfortable.

“Sorry, James. I didn't want to leave you uncomfortable in your own room,” you said touching his shoulder.

“You used to call me Barnes,” he verified.

“I can continue calling you like this if-”

“You can call me Bucky, just like you did earlier, doll,” he said caressing your cheek with his vibranium arm.

You blushed wildly just by his simple touch, the cool fingers felt so good against your burning cheeks, and the idea of calling him Bucky seemed so intimate. And that damn pet name, made you pressed your thighs together.

“Isn’t a way too intimate? I mean, I barely know you,” you said.

“Are you saying that you want to know more about me, doll?”

“Can you stop using that damn pet name, Bucky?” but your voice instead of sounding angry, sounded low and sensual.

“Do you prefer baby girl, maybe?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn't avoid noticing his lips. That plump lips who seemed so inviting.

“My eyes are up here, doll,” he said noticing that you weren't looking at his eyes.

“Oh shut up, Bucky,”

“Make me,”

And you did it. You pulled him closer and touched his lips with yours and you were right, his lips, his kiss, tasted like heaven. Both of his hands, found your hips and brought you to his lap. Immediately you guided your hands to the back of his neck, scratching at it, pulling at his hair, earning low groans from him.

“Bucky,” you said breaking the kiss.

“What?” his hands, both vibranium and flesh were inside of your dress touching you, caressing you.

“Why do you even wear this?” you said taking his shirt off and you saw him froze when he saw your eyes scanning all his features. The broad shoulders, the unfairly toned body, and then you saw his scars. You traced them with your fingertips. “They’re beautiful, you're beautiful,” you reassured him.

And then he smiled. The most beautiful smile that you ever saw. God, he was so beautiful that it hurts.

Now confident of himself and his actions, he laid you down on the bed and started trying to devour you. His hands and mouth were everywhere. On your neck, on your lips, grabbing your breasts, sucking hungrily at your nipples.

“Bucky, please,” you moaned when he covered your body with his own, pressing his erection against your thigh.

“What do you want me to do, doll?” The cockiness clear in his voice.

“Fuck me,” you said without thinking twice. “Fuck me like you hate me,” you said.

“Did you mean it, right? The choking thing,” he said.

“Yes,” you moaned shamelessly. The simple thought of Bucky choking you with his vibranium arm, made your pussy clench.

“You’re such a dirty girl, of course this excites you,” he said.

He got rid of his own clothes and when you two were naked, he didn't lose time teasing you, all the foreplay and teasing could wait, but you were craving for this so badly that this was unnecessary.

He penetrated you at once, and this would hurt if you weren't so wet, so ready for me. You moaned out loud at the sensation of him stretching you perfectly, filling you so damn good.

“Shit,” he groaned.

You pulled him to a kiss at the same time he started thrusting inside you. His moves were fast and hard.

God bless the super soldiers, you thought to yourself. You were stretching his back, your legs locking him in place and you felt him so deep inside you.

“You feel so good, so fucking good, doll,” he said and guided his vibranium arm to your neck, squeezing it tightly.

“Fuck,” you said rolling your eyes. You guided one for your hands to your clit, circling it fast, because Bucky was groaning out loud, he wouldn't last longer.

“Cum for me doll, cum all over my cock,” he said next to your ear.

His hoarse voice, the way he was hitting your g-spot repeatedly, all this made you lost. You simply exploded around him, yelling his name for everyone who wanted to hear. Bucky came right after you growling out loud.

“Can I sleep here?” you said after you got down of your high.

“Of course. We just started, doll” he said sending goosebumps through your body.

Tags: @amour-quinn @haliannej @dani-si @nothingeverdies @thisishowdynastiesareborn @filthy-lil-thing @feistybaby @attorneyl @ivarswickedqueen @ivarsshieldmadien

[softspideys]

Press Restart (Tom Holland x reader) (Part I)

summary: four different meetings, during four different seasons, throughout four different lifetimes with tom holland. 

warnings: none

words: 1.4k

pairings: tom holland x reader

a/n: WEEEEEEEE I’m so excited for this story and I hope everyone likes it!!! this will be coming in 4 parts and (obviously) this is the first. title is taken from the song by walk the moon. hope you enjoy:) 

I. Autumn, 1795

Just looking out the window at the storm made you shiver, despite the fire crackling a few feet away. The wind howled and rain lashed against the windows, and once in a while the inn would light up from the glow of a lightning bolt.

It had rained all throughout October, but never as bad as this. You pitied anybody who was outside right now. It was late, and the main dining room of your father’s inn was empty. You were still cleaning up from supper earlier that evening, but you didn’t mind. For once, everything was quiet.

“All finished?” your father asked, entering the dining room. You nodded, putting the last stool on top of the table. Your mother had died years ago and you had no siblings, so it was just the two of you now, running the inn. You loved him dearly, but sometimes you wished you could be doing something else.

Just as you were about to retire for the evening, a loud pounding on the door made you jump. Your father held up a hand to stop you from answering it. Neither of you moved, listening as whoever was out there knocked again. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

Your father sighed, shaking his head. He walked over to the door and opened it a crack. “Sorry, son, we’re all full,” he said. Over his shoulder, you could see he was talking to a man – a boy, really, and a soaking wet one at that.

“Please, sir,” the boy said. “I just need a place to dry off for a little while, at least until the storm passes. I–I have money.”

“I’d help you if I could,” your father said. “But there are no vacancies here. There’s another inn about five miles down the road, you should be able to find a room there.” As he finished his sentence, there was a loud crack of thunder that sounded like it was right above you.

“Father!” you said reproachfully. “You can’t let this poor man come in out of the rain and rest for a while?”

Your father flashed you a warning look. “Like I said, my girl, there’s no room for him.”

“Just let him sit by the fire,” you pleaded. “You heard him, he’s got money.”

Your father turned back to the boy, studying him. “All right,” he said finally. “Until the storm passes. You’re lucky my daughter has a bigger heart than I, boy.”

“Thank you, sir,” the boy said as he came inside. “And thank you, miss,” he said to you as you helped him take his sopping wet coat off. You nodded, setting it on a rack by the fire and pulling up a chair for him.

“Are you hungry?” you asked. “We’ve still got some stew leftover from supper. I was going to feed it to the pigs, but, well . . .”

“I’d love some if you could spare a bowl,” the boy said, his lips twitching like he was trying to hide a smile. “Thank you.”

While your father went out to the stables to make sure the other travelers’ horses weren’t spooked by the thunder, you served the boy a bowl of stew and some ale. He ate it slowly, like he was savoring every bite.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Thomas. Thomas Holland. My family calls me Tom.”

“Y/N. Pleasure to meet you.” You shook his hand, which was ice cold. “What were you doing out in this awful weather?”

“I’m heading to the city to look for work. I’ve been traveling for two days now. I thought I could make it without getting caught in the storm, but I was wrong.”

“Yes, you were,” you agreed, and he laughed. In the firelight, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was: strong jaw, dark curls, and warm brown eyes. His hands made the bowl he was cupping look extremely small.

“I truly am grateful to you for convincing your father to let me stay,” he said, looking at you shyly.

You felt your face turn warm in a way that had nothing to do with the fire nearby. “You must forgive him; he’s not usually so callous.”

“Or perhaps you just make him soft,” Tom said with a cheeky smile.

Now it was your turn to laugh. “Perhaps. I just knew I couldn’t let you stay out in the rain.” A beat passed as you looked at each other. Finally, you swallowed. “What kind of work will you look for in the city?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I could try to be a tailor’s apprentice, or a newsboy. Or perhaps I could even work down at the docks.”

You wrinkled your nose. “You’d prefer to smell like fish every day?”

He laughed again, and you liked the way his eyes crinkled. “You make a good point. I suppose I’ll just have to see what happens when I arrive.”

“I’ve never been to the city,” you said with a sigh. “Father goes sometimes, but he’s never brought me.”

“Why not?” Tom asked.

“He says it’s too dangerous,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I’m not a child anymore; I don’t need to be coddled every second of every day. I want to explore and see the world outside of this inn.”

“Is it just the two of you?” Tom said.

You nodded. “Yes. My mother died when I was young, and I have no other siblings. Father is always saying I’m all he has left in this world.”

“Hmm,” Tom said. “I wonder if he’s just afraid of losing you the way he lost your mother.” The tone of his voice said he already knew the answer. You narrowed your eyes at him, although you felt slightly guilty.

“He can’t hold me hostage forever,” you said. “I won’t allow it.”

“He might feel better if he knew someone was looking out for you,” Tom suggested.

“Like a guide?” you asked.

“Or a friend.”

You bit back the smile that was tugging at your lips. “Do you have anyone in mind?” He blushed, casting his eyes down to his lap. “Anyway,” you continued. “I don’t want to live there; at least not right now. I just want to see it.”

“Well,” Tom said, his voice soft. “Perhaps one day you could come visit me.”

“I’d quite like that. But you don’t think you’ll have forgotten me by tomorrow?” you teased.

But he shook his head, completely serious. “I don’t think I will ever forget you.”

You smiled slowly, heart fluttering, and he returned it easily. The two of you sat there quietly until your father entered the inn again. “Rain doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon,” he said grimly. “Let’s see if we can get a bed set up for you somewhere, boy. You can stay till morning.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tom said, rising from his chair.

You did the same, and your father raised his eyebrows. “It’s getting late, Y/N. Perhaps our guest would like to sleep now.”

“Of course,” you said quickly. You took the empty bowl from Tom, ignoring the tingle of electricity you felt when your fingers brushed. “Good night, Mr. Holland. Safe travels.”

“Good night,” he said softly.

That night, you dreamed of the big city, full of beautiful sights and interesting sounds and strange smells, and in the middle of it all was Tom, taking your hand and leading you through the crowd. Although you didn’t know where you were going, with him you felt safe.

But when you woke up that morning, it was to a soft yellow sunrise, wet, frosty grass, and Tom was gone. “He left before dawn,” your father said, casting a knowing glance at you when you casually inquired of his whereabouts. “He said to say good-bye to you. What did you talk about last night?”

“Nothing,” you said, turning away so he wouldn’t see how disappointed you were. Maybe it was foolish, but part of you had actually hoped that you might see Tom again. You’d only exchanged a few words with him, but for some reason you felt close, connected even. Like this wasn’t the first time you’d met, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

[khursheedsahardat]

REFLECTIONS-1

Whenever I see a plant, I wouldn’t just get fascinated by the anatomy or color of it, but also upon its very existence. I would immediately look at its roots and surroundings and see the dying sprouts. Then may be someone will water the dying sprouts at night and the sun will cooperate in the morning and so the sprout will be healed and grow up to become a plant too.  Then some days, when I am sick and lethargic, I consider my body just like that sprout, in need of my water and sun; but humans have different ways of healing, so I am given a magic potion by the doctor which was sometimes called a calpol and other times with different names, healed me as days went by. I was healthy and hearty again. So I reflected upon the idea of how faith prevails, wounds get healed, tears go away, smiles come back, everything becomes alright and life goes on. This is the most beautiful reality of living. Those very details of getting back all the power and fortitude kept me wondering for days. How does something get healed? What makes it live once again? What breathes life into it? How beautifully something travels from one stage to another, completely letting go of the previous one, growing in the forward direction. Launching forth into a better state of being. So this idea informed my wish to study art therapy.

REFLECTIONS- 2

Reflecting on my journey as art therapy trainee , why I feel the way I feel about everything surrounding me, I am an international student, a lot has changed since I moved here and started my first semester, I am from a third world country so moving here was a culture shock obviously, with a baggage full of loads of things that are deep rooted in my belief system be it ethical or cultural or individual feeling or a sudden need of running along the world around me. My parents’ expectations with me, my great friendships and my toxic friendships and my mental peace. I experienced a shift in everything. A shift of a place, a shift of emotions, a shift of priorities, new friendships, new responsibilities, It is safe to say that when we read, we relate, we become protagonists of a story we read, we keep up with the story as our own, when words come in front of us, we narrate our story back as answers, first in our minds, then through the very text itself, a very unique exchange of dialogue between words and reality is born.  To authenticate a human experience, I relate every text and every problem and its solution to my current circumstances to get a grasp of the experience of the author and see what I would have felt in such circumstance, this has increased my trait of being an empathetic person.

REFLECTIONS - 3

A change of place was a very impactful emotion in the beginning of my semester as I was in a new home with a new routine where no one but myself to take care of, sometimes I would have internal dialogue with myself about how I made it here and I will just go down the memory lane, when you are from a brown family and you are a daughter, it is not always easy for u to actually make your dreams come true especially if they demand a lot of freedom and a lot of time. So when my dream did actually come true, all my sorrows flew out of the window, I was living in my dream place, London’s grey clouds were not depressing at all, rain was never bothering me. I realized, that my very room was my safe place, I could restart my life and be whoever I wanted to be, I was out of my family’s scrutinizing eyes and I could let my emotions out whenever and however I could. Here I think the safe place reinforces a person to let the fragments of the past become obsolete and let out the emotions as raw as possible, the baggage of the past, I thought, sometime becomes too heavy that the existing place doesn’t feel like a safe place anymore no matter how safe it is, visuals matter so much that mind constantly denies any visual of existing place that reminds of uneasiness and discomfort of the bad memories, bad relationships and toxic interactions.

REFLECTIONS- 4

 I wonder, in this uncertainty of the times, where human interaction is limited and we are constantly being denied of meeting our loved ones, our therapist to say, we have entered an era where we are somehow forced to stay away and use technology rather than face to face interaction and technology has limited us to our homes, we can’t go places, we can’t have new visuals, we can’t have rather good stimulus, here the question arises, are the digital therapy sessions effective for the service users? Do they provide us the safe place we need? And to what extent, as there is definitely a lack of change of place, lack of safe visuals, lack of new air and a lack of new fragrance. Safe place being the primary protocol of therapy, one thing that adds up to my frustration is continuous digital encounters have taken over many meetings which could have been in person. I wonder how different and how much beneficial that would have been.

REFLECTIONS- 5

Being a fine arts student, expressive arts has been a strongest tool for me to express my own feelings; I have always believed that art has a lot more to offer to people than just a wall painting. Art carries in itself attributes that are not revealed to many people and it takes a different viewpoint to understand what more art could offer in a clinical setting.

·         Therefore the way I artistically work comes from my personality which is altruistic, and I want to do anything I can with my skill to making lives better. This may have great impact in my art therapy training because this is what keeps me motivated, to serve human beings, and with a passion like this, I think I will prove myself a compassionate therapist professionally.

REFLECTIONS -6·     

    Art therapy is an ongoing research based practice that is going on in the world, everyone in their reach has tried their best to bring out the benefits of art therapy both on mental and physical health. Art therapy has managed to solve the mind-body problem through neuroscience and mental intervention has proven to improve moods and even physical pain for longer times now. I relate therapy to natural healing process of the wounds, how the condition of anything changes overtime and becomes stronger than before. Metaphorically, art therapy is a medicine to mental injuries and offers healthy and sound-minded outcomes through sessions.

·         Art Therapy being a unique form of therapy under psychotherapies, is a complementary form of treatment that service users get, art therapy involves a range of materials that suits different temperaments of the service users making it vastly approachable to clients, art therapy is an intimate experience between a service user and their artwork where the end result of art making is not important but rather is what the service user experienced and revealed through it. Sometimes art therapy is opposite of intimate, it is intimidating to many people who don’t feel confident in using certain materials and are scared of being judged.

·         I am interested in intervening art therapy into palliative diseases like cancer and Alzheimer’s, although art therapy has already begun touching those subjects but my area of interest specifically is mind-body correlated investigation in which I would research how cancer patient may have a reduced bodily pain through mental stabilization.

REFLECTIONS- 7 

I want to talk about family, about attachment and mentalization, they say the baby mirrors the mother, and the mother mirrors the baby, such concept has deeply moved me, when you are a child, your first human interaction is with the mother who shapes your personality, tells you when to eat when you want to cry she lets you cry but tells you when it is not okay to cry, there your emotions are being supervised without you realizing it, you are being conditioned, and your stimulus is your mother’s permission, agreement and disagreement to whatever emotion you need to display. same goes with fathers, my father has been an extremely important person in my life, he has motivated me and he has loved me to bits. but even with such close relationships, when you grow up, your brain untangles itself from the previous conditioning, you are the slave of your growing hormones and hence moods and emotions. the autonomic nervous system outgrows your parent’s scrutiny and will and whispers in your brain: “it is you who decides, when to smile and when to cry”

REFLECTIONS- 8

WHAT IS ART THERAPY

Art Therapy is a type of psychotherapy which deals with visuals and their movements and color to heal trauma and mental illnesses. Art therapy has made its way through clinical practices of treating mind body problems. Art Therapy of image making plays a significant role in client’s mental health evaluation because of the very instinct of human beings and their need to relate to the surroundings and art therapy provides just that. Visual image making is an important aspect of the human learning process (Waller, 2006)

art made in the safe confines of the art therapy room may enable a child to explore and express feelings that cannot easily be put into words. Instead of acting out ‘difficult’ feelings the child puts these into the object. This can then be shared with the therapist. The art can act as a ‘container’ for powerful emotions, and can be a means of communication between child and art therapist. Some art therapists focus on the physical enjoyment, and the ‘play’ elements of art therapy, believing that the more a child can become creative, the better for his or her psychological growth.

REFLECTION- 9

Person or a Place? NEW PLACE AND A NEW PERSON, Therapeutic enough?

Art made in the safe environment enables the client to explore and express feelings that cannot be easily said through words. So it helps the client to not act difficult and let the image or object convey his emotions. Art artwork or an outcome of an art therapy session can act as a container for powerful emotions and can be means of communication between client and therapist (Waller, 2006) the final product made with clients can be the most authentic and raw form of self. Art opens media to all kinds of expressions of emotions and helps bridge the gap of misunderstandings between communicators for better understanding of the feelings, because verbal barrier may often be the reason of bottled-up emotions and thus Art therapy is expected to make way and help well-being and investigate limbic states of the mind of a client. Art therapy is not just an understanding of client mental state; nor a set of instructions to teach art; but is a method through which we try to analyze and heal the patient by understanding his feelings and thoughts. Hence this art and its science are very powerful and must be valued in the domains of psychotherapies.

Various new forms of art therapy are introduced which include expression through painting, collage making, sculpting, drama therapy, music therapy and drawings. These are different modalities in art therapy and they help one in overcoming the effects of traumatic or unpleasant memories in their life. Many referrers would like the opportunity for their clients to experience assessments in all of the arts modalities, each modality having its own specific benefits and values (Fenwick, 2012).Art therapy modalities require specific space in which art therapy is given are also designed to suit the needs of the patients, The art therapy rooms and working spaces for art therapists working in different settings vary enormously, but all of them attempt to provide a sense of permanence, consistency, a ‘set apart’ space or ‘creative arena’ for interactions to take place between therapist, client and art materials (Caroline, Dalley, 2004)

The primary purpose of art therapy is to accelerate positive emotions while inhibiting negative emotions providing feeling of self mastery and control within a safe and comfortable environment.

REFLECTIONS- 10

I believe that art to a common mind is a world of possibilities, and i see my role in this world of art is to make each and everyone hopeful in themselves and hopeful to the world. 

Because as it is, Images, words, surroundings and sounds have huge impact on our lives. And as a therapist i would like to know which frequencies to set for my clients to navigate them towards a way of healthy and sound mind. The therapist in the room on the other side of the table is as much of a visual stimulus as any art material in the room, the experience that is intimidating at first is because of the transference of the personalities that the client/service user and art therapist encounter with each other. 

by now we have established that the right brain has its own language of aesthetics, less corporate if you like, no language but music. no numbers but abundance hence emotions win over logic. and that is why i think, art therapy is such unique intervention to the mind to heal trauma and any irregular emotion that has lost its way and has walked toward the extreme side of the life’s see-saw.

REFLECTION- 11

Art therapy and clinical neuroscience  is one of the holy grail books that i first encountered, it not only gave me an insight into the mind-body relativity and how we are less hampered now in regards to their coherence. one of the most beautifully explained chapter about stress expressed that the idea of stress is always taken as a negative thing, one that must be tackled down before it drains us human beings. but the book mentions another way of tackling the stress, that is to take every setback as a transformative experience, rise above any adversity, understand the whirlpool of the situation, and come out of the tunnel as a well-lived through adverse times person and well learned as well.