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katsukikitten · 4 years

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I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain.

Or focus.

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend.

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that.

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease.

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long.

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday.

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work.

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked.

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do.

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left.

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs.

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five.

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'.

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop.

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname?

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time.

And he took notice in it.

Delight even.

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him.

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts.

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk.

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free.

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something."

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear.

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze.

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job.

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape. Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort.

"So what...what are we gonna do?"

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house.

But you never could shake them.

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders.

"G-got it."

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou comfort #bakugo comfort #bnha au #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader

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zodiyack · 4 years

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In Regards Of My Stupidity

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff

Words: 1,670

Summary: Left alone in his empty castle with guilt, memories, and Hayley and his siblings’ words of advice to keep him company, Klaus hopes to reconcile with the woman he loved and betrayed.

Note: I suck at words.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @jenepleurepasbaby, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @dpaccione

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

He attempted many ways of apologizing without having to verbally admit anything. Klaus wrote a letter, then two, then three, then four, then gave up when he’d ripped out every page in the notebook out of frustration with his lack of words. Then he tried thinking up some form of speech, one he could memorize then recite to her. He fantasized of preforming it with the ending of her running into his arms and them riding of into the sunset to live their happily ever after again.

But even that was a bust. He couldn’t think of anything, nor could his mouth agree with his brain. Each word seemed to contradict one another. Every replacement he made for the words that clashed only had the same affect. He tried and tried until all the words jumbled up into a heap of disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered softly, like Y/n could hear him even though she wasn’t there, as he rubbed his forehead. All Klaus wanted was his wife back but to do so, he needed to apologize, which meant admitting quite a lot of things. It became a challenge. Especially with Klaus being as stubborn as he was.

To atone for everything he’d done wrong under the influence of Aurora would require something much greater than just “I’m sorry”. Allowing Aurora the power of having him under her influence at all deserved thousands of apologies greater than those two meek words.

He needed to think.

Klaus went outside, breathing in the New Orleans’ air. He felt much more at peace, but not because he could breathe the fresh air. As he closed his eyes, listening to the gentleness of the serene night, controlling his breathing and taking in the world with an empty mind, he imagined his happiness, his home.

“Do you like it?” Klaus snuck up behind her, placing his hands over hers on the railing, lacing their fingers, and leaned into her. She rested her head back onto his shoulder.

“I love it.”

1918 was a good year. It was the one before his father drove them out of New Orleans. He’d been proud of the town they’d made, and he promised Y/n that it was there that they would reign. She kept him grounded, and for the first time in forever, he was ready to be the good brother.

He lifted his arms, lifting hers as well, and wrapped them around her frame, holding her closer. Craning his neck, he peppered kisses along her neck before reaching her ear and whispering, “It’s ours, my love.”

She moved her head to face him, causing him to move his own back a bit in order for them to make eye contact. “Are you being serious? I swear, Klaus, if this is some bloody joke-” He chuckled and cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. Her words were almost instantly forgotten as their lips molded together passionately.

The need for air separated them but gifted Niklaus the opportunity to speak. “I promise you, love, I’m being serious. This,” he let go of one of her hands and extended his newly freed arm to the world around them, “this is ours. It is mine, and it is yours. This is the place where we shall be safe from harm forever. It’s a place we can finally call, home.”

He promised her New Orleans was a permanent setting. Only a year later, Mikael showed up and turned his promise to shit. Y/n assured him with a teary eyed grin that it would be alright. Pressing kisses to his face and reminding him that they were alive, she promised it wasn’t his fault. He’d asked what they were going to do and she merely smiled.

She told him they’d wing it.

The apology was ready, but not in a sense he had confidence in. He left his home feeling a lack of fortitude but continued forward nonetheless. It was time he owned up to the promise he lovingly made long ago and atoned to the mistakes he blindly made recently.

Klaus decided he would wing it.

“Niklaus.” Elijah greeted emotionlessly. “I’ll retrieve Y/n.” He returned inside but didn’t come back out. Instead, Y/n took his place, but stood further from Rosseau’s than he was to avoid them hearing their conversation.

“It’s nice to see you ag-”

“Please,” she couldn’t bring her eyes to his, at least, not that very second. They were so full with her sadness threatening to seep out in the form as little droplets that would slide down her skin. “Just...get on with it.”

He understood the lack of ill-intentions behind her words and urgency. A calming breath filled, then left, his chest. And then, he obliged. “I...I was uh...I was dumb and... And I should’ve been a better husband and...” His nerves destroyed whatever bravery he had left in “winging” his apology. Sweaty palms, dry mouth, shaky hands and butterfly filled stomach, how was he ever going to get through this?

Moments had gone by and the tension grew thicker. He could see that Y/n began to grow annoyed, understandable with his drawn out stalling. Klaus had to say something. Preferably something that wouldn’t worsen his situation.

But he was Klaus.

“I understand that I hurt you-”

“Understand that you hurt me? You have yet to even ask me how I felt! You can’t empathize with something you only know one side of.”

Her words were true. The only thing he could think to say were her own words, too far late too matter though. “H-how did you feel?”

“You want to know how I felt, Nik?”

“Yes.”

“Let me ask you this; have you any idea the pain it caused me to even think about moving on from you? Hayley told me it was more than likely going to happen one day and that I should try when the time comes that I feel as though the ache of not having you in my life is too much for even me to bear, but I cannot picture myself with another man. I cannot fathom a life in which I am wrongfully torn from you, or torn from you at all, generally speaking.”

“Does that-”

“No,” She winced and clenched her eyes shut, “Klaus.” She opened her eyes and made eye contact with him. He saw the sorrow that drowned in her e/c orbs, and his heart broke a little more. “That does not mean I’m willing to just forgive and forget. I want to be with you again, I want to be by your side forever and always, just like I vowed to be but-”

“We can go home-”

“Can you just listen for one fucking second!” She cried out, disbelief strewn across her face. “I have been by your side whenever you needed me to be, even in times where you were too pigheaded to admit that you needed someone. I may never be confident in my ability to brave life without you, but hopefully, I never have to.”

A sigh left her mouth, “So...if you have something to say, do so now...please.” Their eyes reconnected as she waited in anticipation for him to speak his mind.

“I...I don’t...” He couldn’t think of anything. “Just...please, come back with me?”

She scoffed and turned away, eyes red and face scrunched with pain. He fucked it up more. She believed in him. She believed he’d fix it. And so did he.

Then, faster than the speed of light, it hit him. It hit him like a bus, or an anvil over his head like in a cartoon, a lightbulb over his head and exclamation points around his noggin. “Wait!”

Y/n paused but didn’t turn to face him.

“I- I don’t need you to come back with me. I don’t need to go there with you either. I just need...to be with you.” He shrugged with watery eyes and a shaky voice. “I was stupid, blind and mulish. Cowardly, if you will.” He threw his hands up then let them drop to his side.

“I will never forgive myself for hurting you, even if we move on from this, some part of me will always carry the guilt of every time we quarrel. It is unlike us to be so far gone for so long, however, it has opened my eyes to see...” he sucked in a breath, “to see that this time, among all others, I did the unforgivable.”

Klaus sped in front of Y/n, catching her off guard slightly. He took her hands in his. Though she didn’t fight him, she still avoided his eyes. “When I married you, I vowed to be there for you, through thick and thin, I vowed to be loyal and trusting and honest, just as you have been to me, but I failed you. I failed you, love, when I did the worst thing a husband could do.”

“Well...” she laughed lightly, sniffling through a few fallen tears, “it wasn’t the worst, but it was a fucking shit thing to do.”

They chuckled together and her eyes finally met his. “I love you, Y/n, I really do. I look at you and I see the woman of my dreams, my world...I promised you New Orleans was our home, but, when I look at you, I see my true home. Not some silly little place from a time in history, but the woman who I want to spend my immortality with. The woman whom I never deserved yet was chosen by, of all people, to spend her immortality with.”

“And I’d do it again.” She smiled sweetly, drawing a smile of his own. “Even if you are a stubborn bastard,” he held a sheepish grin, “I still love you.”

Even if Mikael ruined Klaus’ promise of a home, he learned that the promise wasn’t about New Orleans. Taking a poetic turn, he came to the realization that she was his home, and he, hers. And now, he was finally coming home.

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pengychan · 4 years

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[Good Omens] Winging It - Matthew 16:19

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: Someone's having second thoughts..

***

Like every demon - or angel, for that matter - Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, did not require sleep.

Last time they had slept had been sometime in the early 1300s, when some Italian scribbler who was very much alive had inexplicably gained access to Hell and proceeded to take a tour. He’d been found rather quickly and escorted to Beelzebub’s office while Dagon tried to find out how in Heaven had a living mortal gained access.

They never did find out - the explanation that he ‘got lost in a forest’ was of amazingly little use - and for the entire time he was there, the mortal did nothing but ramble about his political enemies back in Florence. In rhyme, which was perplexing but hadn’t done much to make up for the sheer boredom of the entire tirade.

In the end, Beelzebub had just fallen asleep; when they woke up again, the mortal had been thrown back up on Earth. Theoretically the decision should have been theirs, but truth be told it had been a relief and Beelzebub had been rather glad someone else had gotten that windbag out of their hair.

The mortal had proceeded to write about his short visit to Hell but, when they got their hands on a copy of their account - all in rhyme, of course - the Lord of the Flies hadn’t been too surprised to find that the account mostly consisted of entirely made-up fantasies.

Plenty of revenge fantasies, which they could respect, but fantasies nonetheless. Beelzebub had later found out the man had claimed to have visited Heaven too, which Gabriel firmly denied during a meeting - rather annoyed by the implication he would break out in song about the holiness of Maryam for no apparent reason other than putting up a show for a mortal.

“No mortal was ever here before death,” he had said rather stiffly. “Clearly, our security is not the one that needs improvement.”

Neither of them had the foggiest idea what that ‘Purgatory’ nonsense was all about, and it was eye-wateringly boring to read, so they had just let the matter drop.

Anyway. To cut a very long story short, Beelzebub did not require sleep.

Gabriel did, on the other hand, and it hadn’t taken all that long for him to fall asleep, snoring… not loudly, but just enough to grate the nerves of anyone who didn’t happen to be a Prince of Hell with rather hellish tastes over what was a soothing sound and what was not. So in the end they had stayed exactly where they were, and elected to follow his example by falling asleep as well, not least because it meant it would allow them to put off actually thinking about what had just happened for a few more hours.

They hadn’t counted on waking up with the distinct feeling of being in the grip of a kraken because Gabriel had apparently decided to cling to them with all limbs. With a roll of their eyes, Beelzebub changed form into that of a fly to escape it and re-transformed a few feet away from the bed, eyeing in silence at the still sleeping form that occupied it.

Gabriel was laying on his side, and Beelzebub could distinctly see the ragged scars on his shoulder blades, where the wings had been cut away. Or rather, torn; Michael’s sword may have helped cut them away, yes, but they figured the last part would need to be done by hand, ripping the stumps right out of his flesh so that nothing remained.

They could imagine the scene quite well, the dripping blood and the wet ripping sound; all quite familiar in Hell, all things they were rather indifferent to. Not that time, though. Now, the more they stared, the angrier they got.

How dare they damage him, they thought. I ought to have enveloped Michael in Hellfire when she stepped in my throne room with that useless pitcher of holy water, they thought.

Except that they knew that would have hurt Gabriel more than even having his wings torn out had. Despite everything, despite his old friends’ choice to carry out his sentence rather than rebelling on his behalf, Gabriel still claimed he understood their choice.

“We don’t question God,” he had told them last time they had brought up the subject, his voice somewhat sorrowful. “I would have done the same in their place, if I was the one ordered to cast out any of them. I don’t think I would now, but I would have then.”

But when he had a chance to strike Ba’al down, so very long ago, he had not. He had tried to reach out. He had tried to keep them there.

Ba’al.

Looking silently at Gabriel’s back, which rose and fell with each breath - with each snore - Beelzebub could admit to themselves that in a corner of their mind, throughout the night before, they had feared to hear that name again. They had feared it would leave Gabriel’s lips while he gasped in the dark, holding onto them, looking up at them in the faint light coming from the streetlight outside the window. They had feared it would all turn out to be about who they had been, and could never be again.

But that name hadn’t been uttered, not even once. Gabriel was not longing for someone long gone: he knew exactly who he’d chosen to spend the night with regardless of any possible consequences. When the sickly-sweet, cloying sense of love which had almost choked them when they first remembered what had been returned, Beelzebub knew it was for them. For the Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, as they were, right there and then.

It was worrying. It was a relief. It was doubly worrying that it was a relief. Beelzebub, who pointed out often and gladly how Gabriel was never the sharpest knife in the drawer, began to belatedly realize they’d been hoisted by their own petard. And as soon as they did, they found themselves doing the only thing they could think of: find something else to keep themselves occupied with, anything to turn their musings away from the thing churning in their chest.

And at the moment there didn’t seem to be a lot to do other than making coffee, so they went with that. By the time they poured the hot water from the cheap electric kettle into a mug filled halfway with soluble coffee, Gabriel was beginning to stir.

Two thoughts hit Beelzebub at the same time: the first was that they were still unclothed, which was not proper, and the second that they really didn’t much care what was proper and what was not. As they did their best to regain composure, bringing the mug to their lips, Gabriel turned on his back and then yawned, which made his face look really stupid. Beelzebub gave him an unimpressed glance over the rim of their mug.

Then Gabriel sat up on the bed and stretched. Beelzebub's glance was... a little less unimpressed. At least for a few seconds, until the second Gabriel turned to look at them; when he did, their expression was unimpressed as ever. Clearly unbothered by that fact, he smiled.

“Good morning,” he said.

Beezelbub scoffed. “I cannot imagine what could possibly be so good about mornings.”

“Well, last night was--” he paused, searching for a word. “Pleasant. No?”

There was the slightest, barely detectable trace of hesitation in his voice. It told Beelzebub two things, in no uncertain terms: that he certainly found it pleasant, and that being told the Lord of the Flies hadn’t would probably wound his pride… or perhaps even cut a bit deeper than that.

And Beelzebub was not generally in the habit of lying. Looking at Gabriel now did not really bring forth any urges, regardless how annoyingly good looking he was, but the act itself had been pleasant and they saw no point in denying it. There was a great deal they were currently denying - well, delaying having to reflect upon - but the pleasure they took was not it.

“It was,” they conceded, and the hesitation on Gabriel’s face disappeared almost instantly. “But it was last night. I asked what is so good about this morning.”

A shrug. “You made coffee,” Gabriel said, standing up. Beelzebub scoffed.

“For myself. You can make your own,” the Lord of the Flies replied, and brought the mug up to their lips - only for it to be taken away in a quick, annoyingly smooth motion.

“Thank you.”

“I said it’s for myself.”

“I only need a couple of sips.”

“No,” Beelzebub snapped, and reached to take the mug again, only for Gabriel to lift it up above his head… and well above their reach. They glared up at him with enough intensity to melt metal. Figuratively, of course, or else Gabriel would have indeed begun melting or burst into flames, which would have been well-deserved but rather unpleasant. Instead he stood there, alive and well and with that dumb smile still on his face. Ugh, the idiot.

Beelzebub crossed their arms. “Are you this stupidly tall with the only purpose of annoying me?”

“Well, I do appreciate the looks of my current form, but it was not my decision. You should take your complaint to God.”

“Believe me, I will once the War happens--”

“If the War happens…”

“-- And we tear down the gates to Heaven to conquer it.”

“Of course.” Gabriel chuckled and brought the steaming mug to his mouth and took a gulp - only to immediately spit it back in the mug with a hawking noise. Beelzebub made a face.

“... Come to think of it, you can keep it.”

“Agh! Did you--how much powder-- is there any sugar…?” he choked. Beelzebub’s lips twitched. “Are you familiar, even in passing, with the expression ‘bitter as Hell’?”

“Ugh!” Gabriel made a face, putting the mug of coffee down and rubbing his lips with the back of his hand. “Is this why you didn’t stop me?”

Truth be told Beelzebub hadn’t thought for a moment he may not appreciate highly concentrated soluble coffee without any sweetener to speak of, but they immediately decided to stick with that version. It sounded quite a bit better than ‘I forgot I could have forced you to give it back with a mere fraction of the power in my left hand’s little finger’.

So in the end they said, “This ought to teach you not to cross the Lord of the Flies.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Evil,” he muttered, but his lips were curling in a smile again. Beelzebub had been called evil plenty of times - occasionally as an insult, more often as a neutral and objective descriptor and several times with well-deserved reverence - but they couldn’t remember any other time there’d been such obvious fondness attached to it.

He is an idiot, they thought, and I am twice the idiot he is for falling right in my own trap.

“You may apologize by making more coffee,” they muttered, and he did, not really bothering to cover himself in any way. Not that Beelzebub had expected him to show embarrassment over his nakedness - they hadn’t bothered to put anything on yet either, that sort of shame was entirely too human for them and they suspected they were well past that phase either way - but what made them pause was the realization that Gabriel no longer attempted to conceal the scars where his wings had been from their gaze.

***

“... And then I suggest we put together a task force to put some order in the Earth observation files. I suppose a lot of issues could have been avoided if we’d kept a closer eye on those in the past few millennia.”

Uriel nodded at Micheal’s words, writing something down. “Yes, it makes sense. I will make a list of viable names for it.”

A nod. “Good. Anything else? Sandalphon?” she called out… getting no answer. “Sandalphon.”

Michael’s tone grew just a little sharper, but it was enough to make Sandalphon recoil. He cleared his throat, looking up. “Yes, yes. I agree.”

Michael stared. “Agree to what, specifically?”

“To the-- the thing with the-- and that other-- thing, with...” Sandalphon searched for the next word for a few moments, gave up, and let out a sigh, dropping his shoulders. “My apologies. I got distracted. But I am sure I agree with whatever you just said.”

Michael let out a sigh, gathering the papers. “And what is it that had you so distracted?”

Sandalphon hesitated a moment, acutely aware of Uriel’s gaze on him. “I was thinking about Gabriel,” he began, causing Michael to lift her gaze from the sheets and look at him.

“What of him? Is he all right?” she asked, frowning. She’d seen Gabriel a couple of weeks earlier, but as she had taken on the lion’s share of what had been Gabriel’s role on top of her own - Sandalphon wondered, not for the first time, if it was her way to make up for the fact she had been the one to cut off his wings - there had been no time for her to pay him another visit.

“No, no, he’s fine,” Sandalphon said quickly. “Called him a couple of days ago. He was on his way back from Devon, from a visit to that Brown fellow’s brother. He asked to confirm if all dogs do indeed go to Heaven, no idea why, but I checked for him. They do, by the way. No exceptions. Cats as well - most animals, really. The only exception to the rule are geese.”

Michael’s lips curled in a smile. “That’s good to know. What’s on your mind about Gabriel, then?”

“Well…” Sandalphon looked at the pen in his hands, fidgeting with it. “You know how we… reversed that entire thing with forgetting about him? By accepting we had to remember what we didn’t want to think about, and not just what we wished to remember?”

“Of course we do,” Uriel said, and something in her tone caused Sandalphon to look up. One glance, and he instinctively knew. “... You’re wondering if it would be the same for the others.”

Sandalphon nodded. Michael frowned in confusion , gaze shifting between the two of them.

“Others? What are you two talking about?”

Uriel looked at her in the eye. “The other ones that Fell. Long ago,” she said, and Michael’s posture stiffened, her hands gripping the sheets just a little tighter.

“... We have no reason to wish to remember them. They’re gone. What is left are enemies, and-”

“And enemies are easier to fight if you can't recall them being anything else,” Uriel finished.

Sandalphon suspected that was not how Michael had meant her sentence to go, but she did not argue against her statement. It was true; they all knew that. Michael was silent for a few moments, and finally stood. “There’s your answer. We may remember them if we try, I suppose, the same way we did with Gabriel. But ask yourselves if you really think we should,” she said, her voice quiet, and left the meeting room without another word.

Sandalphon let out a long breath just as Uriel turned to look at him. She seemed calm, her voice quiet when she spoke. “What do you think, then? Should we?”

Until not too long ago, Sandalphon knew, the answer would have been a resounding no. Things were easier, then. Now, he sighed. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I really don’t know.”

***

When a look at Gabriel’s folder revealed no new sins, Beelzebub was… not precisely surprised. They were not disappointed, either, which was rather more surprising than the blank bottom half of the sheet they were currently glaring at. They scoffed and closed the folder, letting it drop on the floor by their throne.

Well, there was the answer - carnal acts with a demon did not count as a grievous sin, or any kind of sin at all. Beelzebub now felt doubly foolish for telling Gabriel there was even a risk, if anything because it gave him a chance to show off how sickeningly sappy he could get.

“I figured,” the idiot had said. “I think I’ll take the chance.”

It would have been reassuring to think he had taken the chance out of lust, succumbing to it as many humans do, but it was clear the previous evening that was not the case. They both had taken pleasure in the act, and did plan to do so again in the future, but Beelzebub doubted Gabriel lusted any more than they did. The absolute bellend was willing to risk damnation, or a significant tilt of the scale towards it, not for lust - but for them.

He wouldn’t have been willing to risk so much before. He was not, not even for Ba’al.

“We are not the beings we were then,” he had said, and he was right. Beelzebub was no longer the being that Archangel Gabriel had loved at the dawn of existence, before the War, before the Fall. They both had known that. Beelzebub hadn’t counted on the fact the utter imbecile would fall, figuratively, for the being they were now. Their plan had worked, only for them to realize they had never paused to wonder what they would do if it worked too well.

Beelzebub groaned, pressing a hand against their eyes and leaning back their head against the throne’s headrest with a thunk. The most frustrating part was that they knew they were supposed to be very much pleased with that turn of events. Of course, something as undignified as falling in love was very much beneath a Prince of Hell and would make them a laughing stock if word came out, though very few would dare laugh to their face - but no one would need to know that sappy detail. They could very well pass it off as lust.

No one would bat an eye if Beelzebub claimed Gabriel’s soul after successfully winning it for Hell, made him a demon, and kept him by their side; the Prince of Hell took what they wanted without question, and wouldn’t be the first to keep close a mortal they were particularly proud of winning over for their cause. A former archangel, too - no one would question for a moment it was merely a matter of keeping a trophy. They’d be none the wiser; it could work out perfectly.

Except that there was a part of Beelzebub, the one that had forced them to pause the previous evening to warn Gabriel that what they were doing may count as a sin, that knew it would not. For all the chances Gabriel may be willing to take for them, up to and including eternal damnation, the Lord of the Flies knew with utmost certainty he would never be happy in Hell.

“Ridiculous,” they snapped at the empty room. “No one is happy in Hell. No one is meant to be. That is the point, that is… that…”

“Why rebel to the absolute authority of God to pass absolute the absolute authority of Satan?”

Gabriel’s question echoed in their mind, causing Beelzebub to scowl. What an idiotic question - what choice did they have? After God threw them in Hell for wanting a choice, they… they…

No. God cast us out, decreed we were not to return to Heaven; never that we were to stay here.

The thought hit them like a blow, and the faint buzzing of the flies around them was silenced abruptly. It was true - how had they not seen it before? They were cast out of Heaven as humanity would later be cast out of Eden, but nothing else, despite the nonsense in the Bible about being committed to chains of gloomy darkness, whatever that was supposed to mean.

There was a universe out there they may have roamed as humanity roamed Earth, but they had not. Satan chose where to dwell, and they all had followed - the fallen angels who had rebelled to stop being followers. They had been divided up in ranks, they who had grown to resent the ranks among God’s angels, and when humanity was created they were ordered to corrupt them. They had obeyed, accepted that was to be their lot in existence until they gambled everything, again, to try and conquer the one place in all Creation they had been shut out of.

They had made themselves into the opposite of all that God and his angels were, in all but one thing: after the Fall, after receiving new orders, they had not questioned again, either.

“It was God’s Great Plan you were fulfilling,” Gabriel had said, and it was with utter annoyance and a fair dose of dread that Beelzebub admitted to themself that the idiot… had a point. Was Hell, all of what surrounded them now - the realm they were Prince of - anything like what they had thought their existence outside the suffocating order created by God would be? They had a far higher rank in it than they did in Heaven, but… that was the only difference.

And if the War never happens, what then? No resolution, an eternity of corrupting mortal souls because we were told to six thousand years ago, according to a Plan we rebelled against in the first place? A Plan none of us really knows? Is that it, an eternity of this?

The questions circled in Beelzebub’s mind as many moths unable to find light, and in the stillness and silence of their throne room, there was no answer.

Amongst the cracked certainties, however, there was one that did not waver: willing to risk his soul for them or not, disillusioned with Heaven or not and regardless of the high position Beelzebub could get him, Gabriel would be desperately miserable in Hell.

And Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, found that was not something they would be able to handle.

***

“Well well well, look who’s in here. The supervisor.”

“The supervisor who’s been avoiding us the whole morning.”

“Clearly to avoid telling us how the evening went.”

With a chuckle, Gabriel looked up from his checklist to see Łukasz and Fabrizio standing at the door of the small room service as the supervisor’s office. Blocking the door, more accurately. “I have been busy, is all. I was avoiding no one.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s the word?”

Gabriel’s smile widened. “It-- went quite well,” he said, and nearly dropped the clipboard when both of them released high, unholy screeches. Humans certainly did seem to express their approval in a very different way from the polite applause that was the norm in Haven.

“So, did you--”

“I will not get into details, if you don’t mind,” Gabriel cut Fabrizio off, leaning back against the seat. “But let’s say that this morning we have… parted in more amicable terms than last time.”

“Good! You owe us a pint each, then.”

“What? I cannot recall agreeing to--” Gabriel began, but they were both already gone, and he could hear their snickers as they walked back to their work stations. He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and focused on his work again. In the back of his mind there was a nagging question - did it count as a sin? Did it tip the scales? Where did his soul stand between Heaven and Hell? - but he decided that, if Beelzebub did not volunteer that information, he would not ask.

Mortals didn’t get the luxury of always knowing which way their actions would tip the scales in the end, after all, and Gabriel felt more and more like he could handle that.

***

“You know what book you should have loaned him? The Malleus Maleficarum.”

Aziraphale - who had been trying rather hard to scrub all memory of the encounter from his brain - raised an eyebrow, took the cup of candied peanuts from the vendor and thanked her before he followed Crowley a few steps away down the sidewalk. “I believe you may be getting confused, dear. The Malleus Maleficarum is most certainly not a pornography book. Peanut?”

“I’m aware,” Crowley pointed out, and did take a candied peanut. He threw it up in the air and opened his mouth to catch it, only for it to bounce off his forehead and on the ground. Aziraphale politely pretended not to have noticed and just casually put the cup within Crowley’s reach again as they walked down the street towards the bookstore.

“Then why should I have loaned him that specific book?”

“It does contain descriptions of what to expect from carnal relations with demons.”

This time, Aziraphale eyed him with mild concern. He’d admittedly always skimmed over that part, but he recalled quite sordid details that simply could not be true… right? “Surely, all of that is nonsense,” he declared. To his relief, Crowley shrugged.

“Of course it’s nonsense, I was blind drunk when Kramer interviewed me, he asked the weirdest questions - I had to come up with something. No one can say I’m not at my most creative when drunk. And that guy and his friend took everything so seriously, I would say it’s on him. ”

… Wait a moment. “You-- you mean to tell me, you were one of their sources to write the Malleus Maleficarum?”

“Purely by accident, I assure you - never thought it was going to be for a witch hunting manual - but yes. Would you like me to sign your copy?”

“It is a first edition. You may most certainly not sign it,” Aziraphale said over a mouthful of candied peanuts, still rather relieved to know everything in that book was, after all, nonsensical rubbish. “I suspect that had I given Gabriel that, he may have reconsidered his… plans.”

“For the sake of my sanity, I want to tell myself he did reconsider anyway.”

“So will I. Peanut?” he offered, holding out the cup again.

This time, Crowley managed to catch it in mid-air.

***

Gabriel was still trying to catch his breath when he noticed Aziraphale’s book on his nightstand.

He ought to return it, he thought distantly, only to be immediately distracted when Beelzebub settled across his back, chin pressed against the back of his shoulder. “I hope this will teach you not to steal my coffee in the future,” they said, and Gabriel let out a breathless laugh.

“If this is what happens when I take your coffee, I’ll do it more often,” he said, cheek pressed against the pillow; he was going to feel that in the morning, but didn’t mind at all. He waited for a retort, but there was only a hum, quiet breathing against his neck. “... Are you all right?”

“Of course I am.”

“Something’s on your mind.”

“There’s always something on my mind,” Beelzebub muttered, and tapped Gabriel’s head with a finger. “Unlike yours.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, too lost in the afterglow to realize Beelzebub had dodged the question. They didn't seem to be in a talkative mood that evening. Or rather, even less of a talkative mood than usual. “I do have something on my mind.”

“Oh? And what is it?”

I need to return that book, for one.

“Well,” he said instead. “Would you join me in London this weekend?”

***

“An answering machine, really who has those anymore-- hey, Brother Francis, it’s Warlock. Guess the store is closed? I tried looking up the opening times but it’s got no website or Facebook or whatever. It’s probably the only one left in the world without those. You should get a mobile phone too. Anyway, uh, I’ve got nothing to do this Sunday, so I was thinking I could hang in London. If you and Nann-- shit, I didn’t mean to say that.” A pause. “Yeah, uh, sorry I said shit. I mean, if Crowley is there too, uh, guess it wouldn’t suck to meet up. Or something. Just a thought. Whatever. I’ll call back.”

There was a click when the answering machine finished playing the message. Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley. “Well, what does Nanny Crowley think?”

“Nanny Crowley has no objections. What does Brother Aziraphale think?”

“Brother Aziraphale thinks the boy is up for a serious talk about his language this Sunday, and that Nanny Crowley will not interfere,” Aziraphale informed him. Crowley just grinned before snatching the last candied peanut from the cup he’d left on the table.

“I’ll do my best.”

***

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of Heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in Heaven.” -- Matthew 16:19

***

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#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #crowley #aziraphale #warlock dowling #winging it

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years

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1. Part 2

I am hot, straight feeling the heat go up in this place. Staring at her pink robe flowing through the crowd of people, she calmly walked by the group of people, shawty picks and chooses who she wants to speak too and it just shows how without a care she just walks by them, I need to stop staring right now. Looking down at the paper plates Robyn so kindly cleared away from me, she knew me and she knew I was not having a good time with it, she knows me so well “so” feeling a hand on my shoulder and a slight push, Mijo has wormed his way back “what?” the biggest smile formed on my face not knowing what to say to him “what is it?” I repeated, he is smirking at me trying to pick at something “come on now? I was watching?” licking the side of my mouth looking over at where Robyn walked off too “we just spoke, she just said well this is awkward, even she knew it was awkward and then we just had a little joke but if shawty comes back I am going to need you to disappear” I am here just looking for her again, I want her to come back already “you are like an excited child, but disappear where? Where you want me to go when I am here with you! These niggas don’t like me, same with you” he has a point, but I rather be alone “ok I am the third wheel, this fat nigga will go and eat yes? But you better be quick, just signal me to go” makes me think now, did Robyn really go to pee or is she just running off “get this, I heard one of the girls speaking while I was getting my cake. They were saying how early Robyn is leaving in the morning, they complaining that they can’t get drunk at all” I had to laugh at the information Mijo is telling me right now because shawty is out here getting drunk herself “you know shawty is drinking but she told them they can’t? That is very typical of Robyn, she ain’t shit” shaking my head laughing, I feel great joy to be in the presence of her or even she talking to me, in a weird way I feel secure because she is there for me, like nobody will say a wrong word to me because of her.

Grabbing my phone from my pocket “oh shit” I breathed out, my daughter is calling me and I cannot ignore that “niece is calling, pick it up” Mijo was quick to jump in “yeah, yeah” answering the call “hey stink, you checking on daddy now?” the music is blaring out so I mean I can’t hide where I am “dad Aeko broke my doll, he keeps breaking things!” Royalty and her complaints “I can get you a new one but is this why you called me?” laughing to myself, she is a character “not really, he keeps following me too. You need to deal with him dad, he is annoying too” I can hear Aeko in the background “I promise I will speak to him but love him, he is a baby he doesn’t understand. You know” oh wow, Robyn is back. Wow, she is so beautiful, I miss that body “dad!” Royalty shouted “yes I am here, just be nice to him” oh god, Robyn is coming to me “she is back, I will disappear but hurry up” Mijo raised his glass to Robyn “eating again!?” she half shouted, Mijo was not impressed “Ro, I will speak to you tomorrow. I promise, I will be there with you and we can deal with him” Robyn eyed me up, oh she is here in front of me now “yes! Operation tell Aeko off, hear that!” she yelped out “yes, uh. I got to go ok” I disconnected half way hearing Royalty saying love you, looking down at my phone feeling guilt that I did that “busy?” Robyn asked, shaking my head.

Mijo side eyed me, Robyn is the one going back and forth bringing drinks “shot for the road?” Robyn shouted over the music, nodding my head smiling. I mean I am not going to say no to her, what kind of man would I be. I don’t even drink Corona but here she is, bringing me beer and I don’t drink it “I got it” grabbing the bottles from her “you are bringing the bar here?” I laughed placing the bottles on the side “why not, it’s not like I always get to drink with an old friend now? Come on, I have no lemon or salt, so this is just going in raw” like a goof I am, of course I found this hilarious, laughing to my hearts content and so did Robyn. Taking the shot glass from her “so you ready? We gwan link arms, carefully put your arm around mine and then drink?” let me carefully put my arm around Robyn’ close as ever, and I haven’t been this close to her in a while now. Staring at Robyn’ face and I am just so loss “ready?” she said, nodding my head. Robyn downed the shot and I followed behind her “ugh!” moving back “oh shit” that burns, moving back as I gagged “you serious” Robyn placed her hand on my arm “don’t be so weak, here” Robyn held a bottle of Corona in my face “drink it” taking the bottle from her, her hand went back to the very place she had it, a little concerned. Drinking the beer “I know damn well you hate Corona too” Robyn said laughing at me, she is dumb and annoying because she knows “nah, you can have it now. You really giving me trash” Robyn licked her top lip taking the bottle from me “you’re used to that now, come on Christopher” shaking my head at her, I need some water after that shit.

Mijo left, he legit ditched me and said make your way back yourself and I am ok here but he is not wrong I am having too much fun here and things seem to be dying out like people are going and I am still here. Dragging my head up seeing Robyn’ pink flowing robe gracefully graze my lap, she is so sexy and she knows it “another drink?” this time she has got liquor and is currently using her middle finger to mix it, I though she was going to sit away from me on the couch but no, she sat right next to me “it has been a while since we have actually sat here and laughed, and at the most stupidest shit” Robyn tucked her legs up on the couch, her legs just slightly on the side just on my lap “I have enjoyed it, I won’t lie. I was nervous coming here because with everything that has gone on, you could have easily hated me for it, the whole nine” my mouth slightly open as Robyn literally deepthroated her middle finger, my lips are dry. Clearing my throat “we are crashing here tonight!” some bald headed nigga sat on the table across from us “oh comfy, look at this” he clapped his hands, seems a little sarcastic to me “why you telling me for nigga” Robyn asked “well people are going home, you know” he eye balled her “ok, you can also go home too. We are having a conversation here!” I am not getting involved at all “oh ok, bitch” he got up from the table, I just wanted to test something, resting my arm lightly just on her knee with my hand hanging freely “who is that?” I asked, “you don’t stalk me that much then do you?” I turned my face and it was literally like we near kissed “my bad” looking away “but I don’t actually, just sometimes” I chuckled “he is Jahleel, my stylist. Sometimes, you know. Sometimes!” Robyn said sometimes with such bass “mhmm you miss me?” I asked, hearing a deep chuckle in my ear “sometimes” she laughed out, she is annoying “come on” Robyn got up from her position “too many prying eyes, judgemental as fuck! Piss me off” Robyn is not happy, looking around us and I don’t see the issue but maybe she does, I am confused on what is wrong “come on!” Robyn barked grabbing the Ace of Spades from the side, let me follow her.

I am acting like I haven’t been in Robyn’ bedroom before, I mean it’s out of respect because I do love and respect Robyn a lot “sit down, on the couch if you want or the bed, whatever you desire” rubbing my hands together a little nervous about the whole exchange but let me listen “I have glasses in this room, for those lonely nights” she giggled behind me “I know how that feels” sitting down on the couch, I mean the bed is a lot you know, I don’t know. Checking my phone before I turn it off, I don’t want nobody to call me at all or to interrupt this because I have stupid people calling me, my phone switched off “for you” she placed the glass in front of me, dropping my phone to the side of me “thank you” dragging my eyes up Robyn’ body, holy shit she has taken the robe off, she is my friend now but I can literally see her nipples through that. She walked off and I just drank whatever she poured me, I need it right now but I am not about to sit here and play like that, I care about Robyn too much and she deserves my respect even if I am aroused right now “you like my giant bean bag” watching Robyn tug at the thing, splashes of drink spilling as she tugged and tugged “that is close enough” she jumped onto the giant bean bag, a light chuckle left me with a smirk “why did you leave out there? What was wrong out there?” I am intrigued to know why she got annoyed “I don’t like my people telling me what to do or staring at me either it’s rude for you too. I am just thinking of you too, we are just talking too” leaning forward with my drink in hand “I am used to it, even if they were. Who cares” winking at her “it’s like we don’t really speak in a way and we don’t’ see each other like that, it’s like one of those taboo things and it’s pretty boring” nodding my head in agreement.

Placing my glass down at the side of me, I finished that. Looking at Robyn “you roll a good blunt boo” Robyn blew the smoke out from her lips, I grinned while allowing myself the luxury of staring and admiring her exquisite features. Her eyes sparkled as the smoke covered her face and I wondered what was going on in that beautiful mind of hers. She is thinking, I know it “has fatherhood changed you?” that, that word and hearing it from her lips it made me feel a type of way “if you asking me if it filled a void then no, it’s just what it is” I didn’t want her to ask that, I didn’t want her to speak on it but she did “we both grown now Chris, who would have thought. You got two kids, I didn’t have any but here we are. Like this, I do. I do think back to a lot. Mostly when I am drunk, but I do and I miss it, at times. This is why it is easier to not speak to you, hurts less” licking my lips looking away from her “I have a little too much to say tonight” she laughed at herself, looking at Robyn in sadness “and I am always here for you. But you had a whole Saudi man you were hiding but fucking so like? I don’t know what you were looking for in a man like that” watching Robyn smoke her blunt “a change, stability, to be a mother. I don’t know but that is old news, just like everything else but I am happy, I am happy for you” leaning forward and resting my arms on my legs smiling at her “don’t be, nobody wants to be me. I am happy for you, like you a real ass queen from the islands. Go on with your bad self, you know I be rooting for you in the backgrounds. You have done so much more and you are still doing it now” Robyn giggled leaning forward on the bean bag as she put out the blunt, she blew the smoke in my face “I can’t help everyone, I sure in hell can’t even help myself. Like when I saw you I was like not him and it’s not because I hate you, I don’t. Because only we know how much we love each other and only we know how we feel when we see each other, and that is a bond only we know” Robyn has got a point “you still get on my nerves anyways” I chuckled watching Robyn finish the contents of her drink.

It is so hard to look at Robyn’ face when her boobs are just there “you looking at my tits? You men are so easily pleased” I laughed out before placing my head on my arms laughing still, hiding my shame. That is so shameful that I got caught, hearing Robyn laughing also, feeling her hand on my arm “we know each other inside and out anyways, it’s you” lifting my head up grinning wide “I know it’s you, we dumb and drunk” Robyn pulled herself closer to me “you know I love you still, I wish things were different” I was cut off as a pair of lips came crashing into my own and I pulled back reluctantly, her hazel eyes questioned me. I lowered my head to her, pressing my lips against hers and it lingered there for a moment, savouring the moment. Pinching myself to feel if this is real, no comeback of what I am doing, just Robyn allowing me to kiss her. The kiss is filled so much emotion that I felt I was going to cry but I stopped myself, Robyn moved back from the lingering kiss. The back of her hand lightly touched the side of my face and I moved my head to kiss her hand, Robyn came in for another kiss but this time she meant business.

A small smile slightly grew on each other’s lips both acknowledging whatever was going to happen. Because just like that we both butt ass naked and a drunk mess “I really fucking hate you” our battle to put a condom on has to be the funniest thing for the both of us “us? I do too” I stretched her legs out until they created a V shape “but that is us” I slid back home “ah” Robyn breathed out as I paused in that position “yes” her hand on my chest, I moved back and then went in, repeatedly. I am going to cum early, I just know it. I went into her again and again. Robyn reached behind grabbing the couch. Holding on to something, anything that she could grasp. Robyn has to be the best pussy on earth, I am not even with it and I am feeling this. Pulling out of Robyn, I need to not cum quick “turn” Robyn smirked, but I helped her off the couch, flip her over while falling over each other. I got on my knees behind her and admired her backside, I had to admit she had a spectacular ass, running the tip of my dick across her clit. Gripping her hips, I slammed Robyn back on my length until I filled her. She thrust her ass back at me and arched her back until she formed a U shape. The sound of our skin slapping filled the room along with our heavy breathing. Robyn gasped, her breast wildly jerking back and forth “fuuucckkkk!” she screeched loudly, she looked back at me over her shoulder and I smiled smugly at what I saw in her eyes, her bottom lip trembled and her legs shook when I picked up speed and stroked into her madly. Robyn dropped her head on the floor and fell flat on her stomach “yesss” I continued to fuck her at the speed of light. Placing my hands flat on the ground, I dropped with her and picked up a slow and steady rhythm.

I grabbed her hands and clasped them between mine, interlocking our fingers together and nuzzled the side of my face against her neck “uhhh, I love you” I whispered out a deep groan in her ear “yes, yes” Robyn whimpered as her walls clenched and she began to unravel. I rolled my hips and deepened my strokes. I grunted out her name “fuck Robyn!” I froze as I felt myself unravel, I knew I was going to cum, but Robyn did, feeling her pulsating around me. Robyn let the biggest moan out which went down to my dick. I sighed deeply and dropped my forehead to her shoulder, tightening my embrace around her, we laid there connected for a lifetime. Simply catching up on our breathing, allowing our bodies to cool down and our slowing climax to completely roll through us. Lifting my head up, pressing a kiss to the side of Robyn head, Robyn turned her head to me catching my lips with hers.

#Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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musicreviewbfox · 4 years

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Chromatica

The Album Chromatica is Lady Gaga’s newest album. It’s a new album not only in the sense that it marks her return to being an Enigma to the general public again. But this album also uncovers how the artist behind Lady Gaga has been feeling and hopes to reach out to people. She hopes to reach out to her fans. The album its self is almost a love letter to not only Stefani the woman behind the mask of Lady Gaga. But Chromatica is an album to let others join in on her own self-love affair. Chromatica has three string arrangments that are key to dividing up the album from Resentment and depression to Entrapment and PTSD and lastly ends in a blanket of upbeat pop rhythms where Stefani assures herself that she is making an everlasting impression on not only her fans but the music industry itself.

I didn't ask for a free ride

I only asked you to show me a real good time

I never asked for the rainfall

At least I showed up, you showed me nothing at all

The beginning lyrics of Rain on Me by Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande form a beautiful entry to the depressive side of Chromatica after Lady Gaga drops us into Chromatica with Alice and ensuring that Chromatica runs on everlasting Stupid Love. Rain on Me is different from its predecessor in which Stefani admits that the love-filled joy trip she had has finally come to halt and she is left yet again broken-hearted. She dissects the struggle she now faces being alone and admitted by herself in interviews “A fountain of misery for tears to pour out of”(Spotify). This everlasting presence continues with the lyrics.

It's coming down on me

Water like misery

It's coming down on me

I'm ready, rain on me

We are reminded that this is the mesmeric miserable state that Gaga and Ariana are in with the lyrics but the beat in the background of Rain on me is a heavy bass and beat to carry the singers on and be able to channel that miserable energy into fighting dance styles as displayed in the music video that they both appear in. Gaga leading the front of the pink tribe and Ariana with the purple tribe. Both singers are seen in Mad Max outfits which is the setting of Chromatica. A dystopian world where all ideas are challenged and the only way to survive is to dance away the pain or love you feel. Which carries us to Ariana’s lyrics

Living in a world where no one's innocent

Oh, but at least we try

Gotta live my truth, not keep it bottled in

So I don't lose my mind

Baby, yeah

I can feel it on my skin

It's coming down on me

Teardrops on my face

Water like misery

Let it wash away my sins

It's coming down on me

Let it wash away

Ariana comes in with massive vocals and is able to quickly catch up to Lady Gaga in terms of performance. In an hour-long interview with Zane Lowe this was one of the hardest parts of the song for both Ariana and Gaga. Ariana reportedly felt overwhelmed and felt like she couldn’t keep with Gaga until Lady Gaga pulled her out of the booth, determined Gaga said “you are gonna sing as you’ve never done before, while I dance in the corner”. That’s exactly what happened and Ariana outdid herself with many fans and critics saying that the high notes Ariana not only hit while in the studio were astounding but the high notes she hit on the VMA’s matched up to why the duo worked so well together on this record. This now brings us to some closing lyrics

I'd rather be dry, but at least I'm alive

Rain on me, rain, rain

I'd rather be dry, but at least I'm alive

Rain on me, rain, rain

Rain on me

I hear the thunder coming down, won't you rain on me?

Rain on me

I hear the thunder coming down, won't you rain on me?

Rain on me

The final lyrics of Rain On Me show how Ariana and Gaga are prepared for any more trials to come in the future. The duo is prepared for whatever comes their way and are ready for the misery that the tears of regret and broken love may give them. Love being a recurring theme is Chromatica so far in the first section means that it won’t be overplayed and overdone as you the reader will see which is really one of my only criticisms of this album.

The next song that we’ll cover on the Chromatica album is Replay. The song Replay has a lot to do with much of Lady Gaga’s PTSD and Trauma responses to the violent attacks she suffered at 17 and 19. The middle of Lady Gaga’s album is much more of her pained past and how she chooses to come through the other end is with music. Lady Gaga heals as reported is through music. Lady Gaga reported in a Spotify/genius interview. “I refused to not allow this song to be on the album. Sure, I’m the “boss. But really chromatica cannot exist without an abstract explanation of what it’s like to be triggered if you have PTSD.”. So with the explanation of the reason why the track exists at all, it’s now to dive into the lyrics of Replay.

Am I still alive?

Where am I, I cry

Who was it that pulled the trigger, was it you or I?

I'm completely numb

Why you acting dumb

I won't blame myself 'cause we both know you were the one

In the beginning Lady Gaga questions if she is still alive much like how she reports in her song 911 at the beginning of the second act of Chromatica is if she is still sane and can’t escape the voices in her head during a manic episode. She again feels trapped but an outer source forcing her to relive a traumatic experience that she feels undeserving of. The questions of why does my existence amount to this, why was I the chosen out of so many people, why can’t I escape this anguish and misery. Gaga takes all of these questions and puts them as a side focus to have the answer put in front of people. Lady Gaga believes she isn’t a savior but rather looking to take the pain she’s delt and expresses it through music cause in the same interview Gaga says “ And the very thing that plagued my mind for years, trauma, is precisely the thing that now powers my lifeforce to be braver. I.e. this voice I hear- continue to make music although your brain feels it’s breaking sometimes.”. This brings us to the next set of lyrics

Every single day, yeah I dig a grave

Then I sit inside it, wondering if I'll behave

It's a game I play, and I hate to say

You're the worst thing and the best thing that's happened to me

What Lady Gaga is trying to submit here is with her vocals radiating up and down a registry key is that she is condemning herself for feeling the pain and relieving the trauma she is experience. She continues to feel this pain and she questions is it her or the monsters that have been created in her head that force her to feel this way. She questions if she even cares about the damage being done to her mentally and physically and if she is paying the price for a much higher power for being the way she is.

Psychologically, it's something that I can't explain

Scratch my nails into the dirt to pull me out of pain

Does it matter, does it matter? Damage is done

Does it matter, does it matter? You had the gun

You had the gun

In the last lyrics of Replay, we the audience get a full picture described to us of how Lady Gaga is fighting the monsters in her mind and how she is trying to break free from a fire zone. A red zone in which every step causes pain and misery but Lady Gaga fights this torture by dancing and singing against it. She uses her music to help balance herself once and remind herself that she is ready to keep going and fight these monsters every time they replay.

I need you to listen to me, please believe me

I'm completely lonely, please don't judge me

In the sing 1000 Doves we get a different side of Lady Gaga, the side she’s sheltered and kept away from the world, aside she is ready to nourish and feed love again. That side of Gaga is Stefani. Lady Gaga put an alter ego in the spotlight and hid away Stefani the person and mind behind Gaga away from the world. She kept Stefani away and in this song she tells Lady Gaga she finally gets to meet the person who had the hard path and tough road to ride to fame and fortune. Stefani the woman who stuck around whenever everyone left her. Stefani endured many hard times and never got to fully understand and put into motion how her Trauma and battles against those that deposed her especially at her time in NYU Tisch. The next set of lyrics describe the passion and love that Stefani has for Lady Gaga.

When your tears are falling, I'll catch them as they fall

I need you to listen to me, please don't leave me

I'm not perfect yet but I'll keep trying

When your tears are falling, I'll catch them as they fall

In these sets of lyrics, Stefani is the singer and at the reigns. You can tell that this is Stefani coming through because she is saying she is always ready to catch Gaga’s tears as she falls apart no matter where and or why. Stefani has healed and is always ready for the net challenge. She was born ready for fame because of the humiliation she faced growing up. Misunderstood and abused was Stefani and so she took all the pain and formed an alter ego to protect from the world which is Lady Gaga. which is complex because the song seems like a love ballad to another person she vows to protect but in reality, it is a love letter to Lady Gaga from Stefani and how she is ready to combine to the two and have them heal one another.

I've been hurting, stuck inside a cage

So hot my heart's been in a rage

If you love me, then just set me free

And if you don't, then baby leave

Set me free

In these final lyrics, we get a showcase of what it was like for Stefani to finally meet the creation she helped launch into stardom. A woman she doesn’t know almost because of how long it been since shes played a role in Gaga’s life. Not since the Artpop have the two been in hand deep of creating music as Stefani has had the reigns in the last couple of years with Cheek to Cheek, Joanne, and A Star is Born. But Stefani knows the woman who brought the stardom and first captured the world’s attention which is Lady Gaga. So at the end of this song, the two recollect and remember how hard it was for Lady Gaga and Stefani to receive the credit that they’ve held onto for over a decade now.

A thousand do-o-o-o-o-o-ves

Oh-oh

Flying, flying, flying like a thousand doves

A thousand do-o-o-o-o-o-ves

Flying, flying, flying like a thousand doves

Flying, flying, flying

With these lyrics I abid you a good morning, afternoon, or night on our journey of Chromatica. Overall the main takeaways of Chromatica as an album are that Lady Gaga wrote this album as a self-love note much like in the ways of Ariana Grande did with sweetener, Kesha did with Rainbow, and what many artists do with self-titled albums or more depending on how long they’ve been in the music industry. But the core points to take away from Chromatica is that hardships are expected and what you can expect for Stefani or even Lady gaga to do with those hardships is to write music and dance the pain away. Either is be a traumatizing experience in Replay, a broken heart in Rain on Me, or even a question of self-worth in 1000 Doves. Gaga will and forever make music for those who feel like an underdog and had many crazy experiences.

Links:

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-1000-doves-lyrics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZXBF9t32zA

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/lady-gaga-chromatica-making-of-bloodpop-axwell-1007139/

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-and-ariana-grande-rain-on-me-lyrics

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-replay-lyrics

youtube

#Chromatica #Lady Gaga #gaga #PTSD #Romance #album #stefani #ariana grande

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rubyleaf · 5 years

Text

There’s virtually no fanfic for Shadow of the Fox but I got hit by this AU idea where Yumeko and Tatsumi are childhood friends, and my hand slipped. Enjoy.

Sometimes the world is frightening to Kage Tatsumi, but at least he has Yumeko-chan.

They’re not supposed to be friends, technically. He’s part of the Shadow Clan and she’s just a commoner from the neighboring town, and the adults keep telling him it’s undignified for him to treat her like an equal. She is also half kitsune, something that would get her killed if people knew about it, so Tatsumi has promised her to never tell anyone about it, ever.

However, Yumeko is also one of the closest people to his own age, as well as the most fun by far. Playing with Yumeko never gets boring. She knows how to climb trees and befriend wild animals; she can make teapots dance and shoes walk off on their own, and on boring afternoons she can fill the hours with the most incredible stories she has gathered from passing yokai. Yumeko is Tatsumi’s best friend in the whole world, and they’re sticking together no matter what happens.

Today, as usual, Tatsumi is supposed to meet up with her after his daily shinobi training. The adults know, of course. They don’t like it, but Tatsumi is very good at his training, so they don’t really see a point in stopping him for now.

But today, after the training, Tatsumi is held back. His usual teacher stops him as he is about to leave, and into the doorframe steps a man he has never seen before.

“This boy?” he asks, his sharp black eyes sizing Tatsumi up from head to toe.

The teacher nods. “This is Kage Tatsumi, Master Ichiro,” he says. “The boy you are looking for.”

Master Ichiro’s eyes narrow. Tatsumi does his best to stand firm under that gaze. He doesn’t like it. It chills him down to the bone.

“Good,” he finally says. “Come with me, child.”

Tatsumi throws a questioning glance at his teacher, then follows. Over his shoulder he catches Ayame’s eyes. She seems worried, but quickly looks away once he meets her gaze.

“No looking back,” Master Ichiro says. “Follow me.”

Tatsumi does, on and on through the winding corridors and hidden passages of the castle, all along thinking of Yumeko waiting for him at the pond. They were planning to catch some tadpoles today. He hopes this won’t take too long.

On they go. Master Ichiro loses no word on where they’re headed or how long it will take. Tatsumi has lost his orientation long ago. He doesn’t have the courage to ask where they are or what this man wants from him. Maybe Yumeko would have said something. But Yumeko isn’t here.

Finally Master Ichiro arrives at a heavy door and pushes it open. Beyond it lies a chamber, small and dark and empty except for a single sword.

“This is Kamigoroshi,” Master Ichiro says. “It is the sword of the Kage demonslayer.”

A shiver runs down Tatsumi’s spine. He doesn’t understand the whole demonslayer thing, but even he knows the demonslayer and his sword are something dangerous, something to be avoided. Why lead him to this chamber—to this thing that sounds so bad?

Master Ichiro’s eyes fall on him, sizing him up and down, appraising. Judging. As if even he himself doesn’t know why he brought this boy here.

“And you,” he says, “have been chosen as its next bearer.”

Tatsumi freezes where he stands. He looks at the sword, then down at his hands, then back at the sword. It’s longer than he is tall.

And he’s…supposed to carry it now? He’s supposed to be the bearer of this sword?

But doesn’t that mean…

“Within this sword resides a demon,” Master Ichiro says. “Its name is Hakaimono, and it has chosen you to be the next Kage demonslayer.”

Him. The demonslayer.

“But—” Tatsumi ventures.

“No arguing.” Master Ichiro’s eyes flash. “The sword chooses the bearer, and it has chosen you. Your task is only to wield it, do what you’re assigned and not let the demon possessing it take over your mind.”

I can’t.

The thought is immediate, so intense that Tatsumi can just barely stop himself from saying it out loud. This sword is so big…this demon sounds powerful. And Tatsumi is neither of those things. He’s just…Tatsumi.

“Fear not,” Master Ichiro says. “We will teach you everything you need to know.”

Tatsumi nods stiffly. Master Ichiro strides past him into the chamber, picking up the sword and holding it out towards him. “Take it.”

He tries and nearly drops it. It’s heavy…too heavy for his arms. He can’t hold this thing!

Hello, human child.

Tatsumi does drop it this time.

“A voice…” he whispers, stumbling backwards, trembling. “There’s a voice in—”

“Brat! Who told you to drop it?” Master Ichiro snaps, shoving Kamigoroshi back into his hands. Tatsumi tries to resist, but he’s only a child, and Ichiro grabs his hands and forces them around the sword. “Stop showing fear! The voice in your head is Hakaimono. You must never show him any emotions, or he will take over your body and slaughter everyone around you.”

Tatsumi grips the sword in desperation. His face is reflected in the gleaming metal of the sword, but all he sees before his eyes is a giant shadow, adorned with the grinning, mocking grimace of an oni.

“What happens if I fail?” he whispers.

Master Ichiro leans down. It’s the one time he does something to be on the same eye level as him, staring deep into his soul with eyes just as black as the newly formed shadow in Tatsumi’s mind.

“If you fail,” he says, “we will have to kill you.”

---

Several days pass before Tatsumi gets to see Yumeko again. Master Ichiro has taken over his training, and he doesn’t allow him to go out and meet with friends. The Kage demonslayer, he says, must not have any friends. He must not love or get attached, or Hakaimono will instantly use that against him.

Tatsumi understands that. But his best friend is out there, waiting for him, probably mad at him for standing her up. And he just wants to tell her about all of this, and he can’t, and it hurts him.

Kamigoroshi remains in his room, unused for now, just lying on the floor like a harbinger of doom. At night Tatsumi lies awake, staring at the weapon, too afraid to touch it even though Master Ichiro keeps telling him to, saying he needs to get accustomed to Hakaimono’s presence. When he sleeps, he is still restless, and the demon continues to haunt his dreams.

It is late at night when something scrapes on his sliding doors. Something that doesn’t sound human at all.

More like a fox, really.

Tatsumi flings off his blanket and opens the door. In comes Yumeko, looking around before transforming into a human. “Tatsumi,” she says, “are you all right? You haven’t come to visit me all week, catching tadpoles was no fun without you!”

Tatsumi looks at her, her gentle eyes, her round, familiar face. The look of concern and understanding. Something no one else has shown him since he became the new owner of Kamigoroshi.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Yumeko,” he says, “I’m the demonslayer now!”

Her eyes go round. She hasn’t heard as much, but even to her that name brings fear. “What do you mean, demonslayer?” she says. “I thought you weren’t big enough for a sword!”

Tatsumi wipes his eyes and motions to the sword. “The demon…Hakaimono,” he says. “He’s in there…in the sword…he chose me.” He swallows, sniffles, but his vision keeps blurring. “I have to do it now…and Master…Master Ichiro says I can’t ever have friends or feel things anymore or the demon takes me over…and…” His voice breaks. Tears begin to run down his face. “And they’re going to kill me!”

“What? That’s stupid!” Yumeko looks both shocked and angry. “Fighting and demons should be stuff for the grownups, not us! That’s so dumb!”

Tatsumi swallows, wipes his eyes and nods. Then waits.

“Are you scared of me now?” he finally asks.

Yumeko gapes at him. “What?”

“Because I…I’m the demonslayer.” Tatsumi sniffles and hiccups. “I’m a bad guy now…and…”

He doesn’t get any further before Yumeko grabs him and tackles him with a hug.

“Of course I’m not scared,” she says. “You’re my best friend! And best friends stick together, remember?”

Tatsumi doesn’t say anything. He can’t answer. All he can do is bury his face in Yumeko’s shoulder and squeeze her tightly.

“Actually,” Yumeko says, “let’s run away.”

Tatsumi pulls back. “What?”

“From all this,” she answers. “This sword and the whole…demonslaying stuff. Let’s get away and you can live a normal life, how’s that?”

Tempting. So tempting.

But…

“Impossible,” Tatsumi says sadly. “It doesn’t work that way.” He wipes his eyes again. “Hakaimono’s stuck with me until I die.”

“Or he does!” Yumeko answers. “There’s got to be a way to get rid of him!”

But Tatsumi shakes his head.

“I’m sure there is,” Yumeko insists. “We just have to find it. Hang in there, all right? I’ll find out a way to save you for sure!”

Tatsumi almost starts crying again, but instead he forces his lips into a wobbly smile.

“Thank you.”

---

Yumeko keeps visiting him in secret. Every night she sneaks inside to talk to him, sometimes tell him a story, and it means the world to Tatsumi that at least to one person he’s still not the demonslayer, not a monster, but simply Kage Tatsumi.

One night the little fox comes into his room bearing something in her mouth. She drops it in front of him when she transforms, and upon closer inspection Tatsumi finds it’s a small fox doll.

“That’s to cheer you up when I’m not here,” she says. “I made it myself!”

Tatsumi is pretty sure Master Ichiro would never approve of him owning a toy, but just the sight of that little fox makes everything so much easier that he takes it anyway and hides it far from the adults’ line of sight.

A stuffed doll? Hakaimono taunts him later that night. How sentimental.

Tatsumi closes his eyes, covers his ears. He doesn’t want to hear that voice.

You cannot keep me out this way, little one, the demon answers. I am within you. You can run, but you can never escape from your mind.

“Shut up,” Tatsumi whispers.

You seem to care about this girl a lot. There is a smile in the demon’s voice. How would you like it if I sliced this doll of hers to pieces, I wonder?

Tatsumi curls up under the blanket, shivering. The sword lies too close to him, too big and too close and too heavy to move.

And her along with it?

---

Hakaimono keeps taunting him.

Tatsumi tries to ignore it, but the voice is getting louder. Most of the time he can tune out the demon. He feels nothing anymore when people in the palace avoid him. He feels nothing when Master Ichiro beats him for making a mistake. He feels nothing when he is forced to kill small creatures, living beings that he knows Yumeko considers her friends. But when it comes to Yumeko…he can’t tune it out.

He can’t be uncaring when it comes to her. He can’t tear himself from this attachment, the last one he still had. His best friend. The only person still keeping him sane, keeping him human.

He does try to distance himself, for her sake. He has talked her into not coming over as often, and on nights without her he hugs the fox doll close and endures the fear and loneliness. But dropping her entirely? He can’t do that. He simply can’t.

Even if he knows it’s a weakness.

Even if he knows that, sooner or later, Hakaimono will use it against him.

---

Tatsumi finally arrives on Yumeko’s doorstep during the daytime, looking like he is carrying a heavy burden.

He is eleven now, tall and strong enough to wield Kamigoroshi, just barely. Most of the time it still looks like the sword is wielding him. But he keeps hauling it with him anyway, why, Yumeko doesn’t know.

“Tatsumi,” she says. “What’s up?”

For a moment something akin to pain crosses his face, then it transforms back into an emotionless mask. “Yumeko,” he says, “I need you to stop visiting me.”

It’s like a punch in the gut. Yumeko flinches. “What?” she asks. “But—”

“It’s Hakaimono. He keeps threatening…to kill you,” Tatsumi whispers. “I need to cut you off, or he will take over.”

Impossible. Impossible. All these years, and it’s been fine. “You managed before!” Yumeko bursts out. “What changed?”

“He’s growing stronger.” Tatsumi closes his eyes, and his blank expression wavers. “I can’t bear it much longer. We can’t be friends anymore.”

Yumeko swallows. Tears well up in her eyes. “But you’re my best friend,” she says. “What happened to best friends forever? What happened to no matter what?”

“I’m sorry.” Tatsumi’s hands clench into fists at his sides. “But if you don’t leave…I can’t promise I won’t kill you someday.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Yumeko says. “You would never—”

“Yumeko,” Tatsumi says. “Please.”

She doesn’t want to, but the look in his eyes convinces her that he means every word.

---

Tatsumi is twelve when Master Ichiro finally finds the fox doll.

“What did I tell you about toys?” he exclaims as he hits him, again and again, until Tatsumi’s back is blue with bruises. “No getting attached to anything, not even inanimate objects! Are you trying to get us all killed?”

Finally he stops beating him and shoves Kamigoroshi into his hands. “Destroy it,” he says. “Here. Now.”

Tatsumi stumbles back like he’s been hit in the face. “I—”

“No buts! Destroy it before it destroys all of us.” Master Ichiro narrows his eyes. “Or would you rather I do it?”

Tatsumi swallows, steels himself. The fox doll sits on the ground, looking up at him with black button eyes so similar to Yumeko’s own fox form. And suddenly it’s not a toy sitting in front of him. It’s Yumeko, looking up at him with pleading, innocent eyes.

No attachments.

Tatsumi lifts his sword, and pieces of stuffing fly all over the room.

---

The Silent Winds temple is burning.

Yumeko runs down the forest path, away from the oni, away from everything. Her chest hurts, and not from the smoke. She went to this place with Master Isao after Tatsumi ended their friendship, and it was her new home. Her family.

And now, once again, she is all alone.

Or would be, if not for the figure suddenly emerging in front of her.

Yumeko staggers back, expecting another oni. But the face before her is human—no, not only that. It’s familiar.

All these years, and she still recognizes him on sight.

“Tatsumi?” she rasps out.

“Yumeko,” he whispers. For a brief moment something akin to emotion flashes up in his voice.

“What are you doing here?” she says. “The temple—”

“I could ask you the same,” he says coldly. “I’m not here for you.”

“The temple is gone.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and Yumeko lets herself drop down to the ground. “The monks…they’re all dead,” she says. “The temple was attacked by oni, they sent me away, but…but…”

She wishes she could hug him like she would have done in their childhood. But the Tatsumi in front of her is no longer her friend. He is no longer anyone’s friend.

A hand lands on her shoulder, awkward but warm.

“Tell me what happened,” Tatsumi says. “I had an errand up there. A certain scroll…”

Yumeko thinks of the thing hidden in her furoshiki. Briefly she wonders if she should tell him. Better not. The way he is now…he might kill her, or else abandon her here in the wild.

Instead she thinks of something else.

“Master Isao sent it away,” she says. “He expected the temple to be attacked. The place it’s at now is…the Steel Feather temple, I think it’s called. He told me how to find it.” Her eyes meet Tatsumi’s. “I could lead you there, if you want.”

Tatsumi hesitates. Yumeko knows what he’s thinking: that this is a risk, and he’s playing with fire. Hakaimono threatened him over her before. But…

“Fine,” Tatsumi mutters, and it sounds like someone pronouncing his own doom. “I will follow you. But remember—I’m only your companion, not your friend.”

Yumeko knows that, and yet she can’t help smiling at the thought of traveling with him.

“I know.”

#i spent the whole evening on this #shadow of the fox #tatsumeko #kage tatsumi #yumeko #me and my writings #headcanons

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lemonscreativeworld · 5 years

Text

Dynamic Duo

It appears that battle forges brotherhoods.

A/N: This is for @satanasss666 and their Apprentice, Sven! Who is literally the most handsome fan Apprentice I have ever seen, like dayum.

Sven grumbled as he jumped and leapt from buildings and poles, angry about the whole situation.

Another fight with the prissy little new meat Asra had brought in that made the bastard storm out. Asra hadn’t gotten in the middle of it, hoping that his two apprentices would work it out for themselves. But apparently not; Widdle Aneirin got his silks in a twist and bounced to go pout.

Just because Sven didn’t feel intimidated by the posh punk. The bastard had been nothing less than an annoying thorn in his side. Always telling him that he shouldn’t be so this or as much of that. Everything Sven did or said was met with sanctimonious criticism that rubbed him the wrong way. It took all of his will-power not to snap his stupid neck.

He clearly remembered when Asra brought him in. Something about their parents being old friends or whatever. He was wearing some ridiculously high quality clothes, with little silk ribbons attached to golden wrist and arm bands. Everything was green and gold with this guy. Not to mention he wore make-up; not that was inherently a bad thing. It was just the fact that even his make-up was gold. He also chose to talk ‘properly’ and ‘with good diction’. It just sounded so stupid to Sven and forced. No one should have that clean of a mouth.

Either way, they got along like oil and fire, and Asra was the tired firefighter trying to keep the peace. He didn’t even know what set Aneirin off so badly this time, just that they were screaming and suddenly he huffed right out of the door. It took a few shocked moments for the other two to realize what happened. Then, they had their own heated exchange as Asra almost demanded Sven go after him to apologize to him. Which was stupid and dumb and he didn’t want to. But Asra was adamant and after several withering looks, he hopped his happy ass out of the door and towards finding him.

The fight had been early in the afternoon and it was just now starting to become dusk. He wondered if he should just head back to the shop now, as he had searched across most of the usual places. The Market, the Town Square, the Community Theater…even that frilly restaurant Aneirin likes to go to sometimes. But there was neither hide nor hair of this little punk and Sven was absolutely done with it all.

He turned to go back to the shop when a familiar looking white creature ran up towards him. The fat little weasel’s fur was dirty and he looked scared. “Dumpling?” He knelt to allow the terrified creature into his arms. Aneirin was an asshole, but Dumpling was a treasure. He always wanted to cuddle up to Sven and he was just so stupidly sweet that there was no way he could hate him.

He was panting heavily and made panicked little squeaking noises that Sven had never heard before. There was a moment of confusion as he wondered why Aneirin would let his most beloved familiar just roam around the streets. It was absolutely unthinkable.

The weasel squeaked again and looked away, towards the Coliseum. He seemed to frantically gesture there, almost as if he wants Sven to go there. Something must be happening and with that though, he tucks Dumpling into one of his pouches and races across town with a fire under his feet. It didn’t take long for him to get to the Coliseum, as he seemed to know the way by heart. Once there, he rushed inside to look for Aneirin but he didn’t have to look very far.

In the center, he could see a large group of men surrounding a single man, as if they were accosting him. The flash of green and gold caught his eye and as he looked harder, he could see that it truly was Aneirin.

“Hey! Iri!” He called out, getting everyone’s attention. “What the fuck?!” Sven started walking towards them, and everyone noticed his limp.

The biggest man, probably the leader, sneered at him. “What’s this, your boyfriend?” His voice was full of condescension. “You’re fucking a crippled? And you won’t fuck us?” He turns to give Aneirin an angry look, which Aneirin returned. He didn’t look scared or intimidated and Sven had to give him credit; the men surrounding him were at least a foot taller than him and way more muscled.

But the term crippled made his blood boil. “I’m not crippled enough to beat all of your asses, you son of bitch!” He hollers, already unsheathing Gertrude and Delilah.

Aneirin seems unimpressed by all of this. “He is not anything near my lover, you brainless brute. But he is my fellow and I suggest you leave before we have to get physical with you.” He huffs, picking up a bag and beginning to walk away. “Of course, I cannot be held accountable for him slicing off your foot for using such vulgar terms for a disabled man but-” He squawked indignantly when the leader grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back, holding him close to the other man’s body.

The leader starts feeling him up, despite Aneirin’s protests. “You think we’re scared of a little crippled? You got big swords, I got an even bigger one, boy!” He started laughing until he felt up Aneirin’s chest and made a quizzical noise. “What…?” The young magician just froze. “You got tits?! You’re a little woman?!”

The smaller man just ripped himself away, storming over to a surprised Sven, his face on fire. There were catcalls and vulgar terms being thrown at Aneirin now, all having to do with his supposedly being a woman. The men were following them and soon enough, they were surrounded.

“Shite.” Sven cursed, looking at all of them. There was about fifteen or twenty of them. He didn’t think he could take them all but he’d never say that. “Just stay behind me, Iri, I’ll protect-”

He was cut off by a crackling sound and the scent of ozone in the air. There was a faint golden glow behind him and he just managed to see Aneirin holding out a rapier, the blade made of golden lightning. Another one formed in his hand and there was a deep pitch to his voice, filled with dark anger. “I’m going to kill this motherfucker.” He snarled, referring to the leader, and Sven felt his eyes widen.

The men seemed taken aback by this but the leader only smiled. “Let’s get ‘em, men!” He took out his own greatsword and the others, emboldened by their leader’s confidence, took out their own weapons.

Sven stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, before he smirked. “Bring it on, bitches!”

“Prepare for the storm!”

The battle was quick but intense. While Sven was built for power and strength, Aneirin was built for speed and agility. Whenever one of the bastards would attack, Aneirin would go in for a few quick disarming strikes before Sven would wreck their shit. His blades were made to shock and disorient, but not to kill. Sven held no reservations and though that wasn’t the purpose of this fight, he couldn’t help the one or two bodies he left in his wake.

Finally, it was just the leader; all of his men were groaning on the ground, some of them twitching. Sven made a move to attack him, but was held back by Aneirin. “I said I was going to kill him.” He dropped his rapiers and the blades disappeared.

The leader, obviously worn down and out of his league, smirked. “You gonna kill me with no weapons? You must be one dumb bitch.”

Aneirin didn’t say a word, just staring at the larger man. With a fluid motion, he swept back the hair hiding his left eye and Sven gaped. The eye had two deep, violent looking scars going from his forehead to his cheekbone, the eye a much lighter gold than his other eye. Suddenly, small bolts of lightning started forming around his eye, growing in power and intensity until his whole eye was covered. Golden light started forming in his hand and the leader took a step back.

“W-Wait, what the fuck?!” He shouted, fear now starting to overtake him.

It would be his last words as Aneirin lifted his hand to the sky, where storm clouds suddenly started forming. In a flash of golden light, lightning struck the leader no less than three times, each time more intense than the last.

Once all was said and done, the leader was nothing more than a charred corpse, unrecognizable. The power around Aneirin’s eye vanished and he fixed his hair to cover his eye again.

Sven had just stood there, dumbfounded the whole time. He was impressed by the display and he jumped when Aneirin spoke. “Did Dumpling come find you?” He asked, still fixing his hair.

“Uh…” Was Sven’s only response.

Suddenly, said weasel jumped out of Sven’s pouch, where he had been the whole time. He rushed over to Aneirin and the man scooped up his baby. “Oh my darling!” He cooed, gently brushing him off. “You are absolutely filthy! I am so sorry to have made you go through all of that, my sweet baby boy!”

The fat creature was soaking up the attention and it brought Sven out of his daze. “What the fuck!” He yelled. “Was that!?” He gestured to the leader. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Aneirin just looked at him with a small smirk. “You never asked.” Was his simple answer.

“Well…you got me there.”

He laughed, something sweet and tinkling. But then the other apprentice got a little bit serious. “Thank you, Sven, for coming to my rescue. I would have been quite fine by myself, probably, but having you to help was a great relief to me.” He looked away, blushing slightly. “I apologize for the way I have acted towards you. It was unfair and undignified to treat you with such immediate disrespect.”

That was unexpected. Sven blinked, putting away his swords. “Well…” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “I guess I could try to be a lil’ more friendly, if you’re gonna apologize.”

Aneirin gave him a genuine smile and the soft look in his eyes made Sven blush. “I would like that, darling.” And the pet name, while not unusual for Aneirin, was weird being directed at him.

“Don’t get used to it.” He said and there was that laugh again.

“I believe we should go back, yes? Shall I get a cart for you to ride in?” He asked, and Sven wanted to bite a no but after everything that happened…

“Whatever you wanna do.”

Another smile. “Excellent.” He started out of the Coliseum and before he got too far, he turned around to look at him. “Sven, you know…” Sven looked up at Aneirin, who had a wry look in his eyes. “You made a very dashing figure while we were fighting. You would be a very handsome hero in a romance tale.” With that, he winked at the other apprentice and skipped out of earshot.

Needless to say, Sven just went his own way home.

#the arcana #the arcana mystic romance #the arcana apprentice #the arcana fan apprentice #apprentice aneirin #apprentice sven #satanasss666 #is it too much for me to call sven a snacc?#Coz he is #And im lov him

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dangoghz · 6 years

Text

11:30 pm

okay so! in conclusion! (FIRSTLY THOUGH PLEASE STOP FOLLOWING THIS BLOG IM NOT BACC TRUST ME hejddkd follow my main @mielgal and my insta) i cannot believe that just happened. i just met the two random men from england i spent hours and hours running a blog for. and then watched them in a cute show called interactive introverts, where i witnessed dan scream ‘eat me daddy’ amongst other strange incidents. and honeslty im not sure whether ill ever process it fully. my devotion here, it finally feels complete. seeing them in real life kind of made me see that the way some people view them on this platform is .... odd. they’re not gods, they’re not even really celebrities, they’re just two complete and utter 6 foot something dorks. and i mean? it kinda made me ashamed of doing the things i did while i was active here. but i guess that because they’re kinda conventionally attractive, and present themselves so digestible to 13/14 year olds, i suppose they should’ve expected how some people worship them. however looking back the whole concept of dedicating a whole BLOG — and icons, edits, fics — to these two random dudes is questionable. but perhaps it’s simply because ive outgrown it. the jokes that used to crack me up two years now just bring a fond, nostalgic smile along with a wave of undeniable cringe. three or so years ago i was lonely, unsatisfied, and my mental health (although i wasn’t very informed of it) was shit. they made me laugh when nothing else could. they filled some hole in my heart that real life couldn’t, and i am forever indebted to them for that. they are such beautiful individuals who have provided a light for probably thousands of young people. they’ve said ‘hey! i used to feel like i didn’t know what to do with my life; now i have a hilarious channel and a loving best friend! everything will be alright.’ i remember two years ago for gamingmas that was the only thing i would look forward to in my day — seeing them in dumbasfuck hats playing the sims or some shit. and although now, i could never see myself going back to dangoghz, i am so so thankful for what they gave me, and for who they gave me. i still talk to like 20 people i met on here through the phandom, even though most of us have left and/or are inactive in groupchats. i have seen wondrous friendships and even relationships form because of these two guys. ive seen dramas, investigations, memes, stories that i will never forget, for no matter how silly they are, they are such a big part of me becoming a teenager. a teenager with depression and strange fixation on Internet culture, but a teenager nonetheless. i might have wanted to run out of the room when they started singing at the end, but i also wanted to go right on to the fucking stage and hug them again for what they’ve done for me. now i have a polaroid with them that’s staying on my wall until i have to leave this city.

also, i miss you guys. i miss the dumb asks i used to get and the stupid discourse i started. sorry for being so dramatic, that’s just how i am. i hope you are doing well. today smells like warm.

#shes back for ii day #gogh away ester #i love you #feel free to rb idm

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goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years

Text

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 32 - 33

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Aedion had been up half the night, debating the merits of every possible place to meet his father.

I am such a sucker for good parent/child relationships in fiction (extra bonus points if it’s adopted parents/child relationship) but honestly Assdion needs to stay the fuck away.

Beforehand Assdion put Lysandra to bet after she shifted back from some other form.

[Aedion] flipped back the crisp cotton sheets with one hand and then laid [Lysandra] down, her once-again long hair covering her high, firm breasts. So much smaller than the ones he’d first seen her with. He didn’t care what size they were—they were beautiful in both forms.

Uhhh does SJM not get how creepy this sounds? Lysandra is asleep and Aedion is staring at her boobs thinking about how beautiful they are?? God damnit SJM just stick to erotica if your characters are gonna be horny 24/7.

Lysandra made [Aedion] change out of his dirty travel clothes, barged into Aelin and Rowan’s room wearing no more than her own bedsheet, and took whatever she wanted from the Fae Prince’s armoire. Aelin’s barked Get out! was likely heard from across the bay, and Lysandra was smirking with feline wickedness as she returned, chucking the green jacket and pants at him.

This sounds like the beginning of a college fic where all the characters live in the same dorm. Not a fucking epic fantasy series constantly compared to LOTR. Tolkien must be rolling in his grave.

Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel.

WHAT. Is this a medieval settings or not? The characters all use swords and bow and arrows and there’s hints of medieval Britain monarchies everywhere but the characters have clocks? What is this word building?

Gods, the females in his court ate more than [Aedion] did.

This is prompted after Lysandra eats breakfast. After we have already been told she burns a lot of energy with her shape shifting. Go fuck yourself, Assdion.

Aedion opened the door, finding the cadre precisely where he’d guessed they’d be at this hour: eating breakfast in the taproom. The two males halted as they entered. And Aedion’s eyes went right to the golden-haired man—one of two, but … there was no denying which one was … his.

I am actually so stressed. Either A) Aedion is gonna act like a dick to his poor father and be treated as right for it, or B) SJM is gonna turn Gav into a dick just so Aedion can angst over his daddy issues. Place your bets, folks.

“You look … ,” Gavriel breathed, sinking into his chair. “You look so much like her [Aedion’s mom].”

HHHHH SJM STOP I HATE THIS SHITTY BOOK AND ASSDION I DON’T WANT THESE FEELS....

“They could have cured [mama Aedion] in the Fae compounds, but she wouldn’t go near them, wouldn’t let them come for fear of Maeve”—[Aedion] spat the name—“knowing I existed. For fear I’d be enslaved to her as you were.”

I wish Assdion’s mom could’ve been a character, but nope, gotta kill off potentially awesome characters for the sake of main character pain. I know that’s just a thing that happens in 95% of stories at this point, but SJM literally only brings these dead characters up once or twice and it has no other impact on her main characters or the plot.

“I’m sorry,” his father said, those Lion’s eyes full of such grief Aedion wondered if he’d just struck a male already down. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” he said, turning toward the door.

Am I a dumb dumb, or... who the fuck is Assdion talking about? Is he talking about apologizing to.. Assdion’s mom? I’m so confused.

Assdion stomps out after his little tantrum. I mean, I understand why he’s upset, but... I need context? Was Gav forced to take the blood oath to Maeve, or was it his own choice? ‘Cause if it was the latter yeah he’s kinda a shitty dad, but if it’s the former, it’s not his fault??? This series is batshit confusing.

“We need them to work with us. I might have made an enemy of him.” [Lysandra] tucked her hair over a shoulder. “Trust me, Aedion, you have not. If you’d told him to crawl over hot coals, he would have.”

HHHH FUCK IT GAV IS A GOOD DAD..... I just feel so so sorry for him. He’s just a punching bag for everyone else. Protect Gav 2k18

He laughed, surprised he could even do so. “He’s a handsome bastard, I’ll give him that.” “I think Maeve likes to collect pretty men.” Aedion snorted. “Why not? She has to deal with them for eternity. They might as well be pleasant to look at.”

I mean a lot of those men have confirmed that they were forced to take the blood oath and are now basically slaves to her but sure, tee hee oh Maeve that slutty bitch, collecting only the hottest young men to enslave! Fuckin’ end me.

Bearing both Goldryn and Damaris for once, Aelin walked into the Sea Dragon two hours later and wished for the days when she could sleep without the dread or urgency of something pulling at her.

Greaaat, back to Alien’s POV.

A grand total of five minutes before Lysandra barged in, Rowan had awoken—and begun the process of awakening her, too. Slowly, with taunting, proprietary strokes down her bare torso, her thighs, accented with little biting kisses to her mouth, her ear, her neck.

EWWWWWWW if I wanted to read this shit, I’d go look up fanfiction. Preferably fanfiction with characters I’m endeared to and actually ship. Skip!

Gavriel and Fenrys were now sitting with Rolfe at the table in the back of the taproom, no sign of Aedion, both a bit wide-eyed as she swaggered in.

This is a nit pick but Gav/Fenrys always being described together irks me. They have the literal same reaction to everything. Like, are they doing this all in unison? Actually, that’s a pretty funny mental image.

Rowan took up a spot beside [Aelin] his knee brushing hers. Like even a few feet of distance was unbearable.

GDI. It’s a meeting. With a Pirate Lord. And all Rowboat can think about is getting his dick wet inside of Alien. I’m almost ready to tap out.

“What is this,” [Aelin] said, stabbing a finger near the main line of figures stretched across the middle of the continent. “It’s the latest report,” Rolfe drawled, “of the locations of Morath’s armies. They have moved into position. Aid to the North is now impossible. And they stand poised to strike Eyllwe.”

Ooo, action scene? Please action scene, I cannot handle any more scenes of these assholes being horny around one another.

Next chapter!

“Eyllwe has no standing army,” Aelin said, feeling the blood drain from her face. “There is nothing and no one to fight after this spring—save for rebel militia bands.”

Starts right where the last one left off, as per SJM’s protocol

Rowan said to Rolfe, “Do you have exact numbers?” “No,” the captain said. “The news was given only as a warning—to keep any shipments away from the Avery. I wanted their opinions”—a nod of the chin toward the cadre—“for handling it.“

??? Is it me or is this expression really fucking weird? Was “a nod of the head” not good enough?

“Why attack Eyllwe, though?” Fenrys asked. “And why move into position but not sack it?” [Aelin] couldn’t say the words aloud. That she’d brought this upon Eyllwe by mocking Erawan, because he knew who Celaena Sardothien had cared for, and he wanted to break her spirit, her heart, by showing her what his armies could do. What they would do, whenever he now felt like it. Not to Terrasen … but to the kingdom of the friend she’d loved so dearly.

Once again, we’re about to witness the destruction of a kingdom and all Alien cares about is her stupid feelings. Go fuck yourself Alien.

“You are the heir of the Mycenian people,” Aelin said. “And I have come to claim the debt you owe my bloodline on that account, too.” Rolfe did not move, did not blink. “Or were all the sea dragon references from some personal fetish?” Aelin asked.

SJM JUST USED THE WORD “FETISH” IN HER EPIC FANTASY SERIES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

[Aelin] allowed a flicker of her magic to rise to the surface then, allowed the gold in her eyes to glow like bright flame. Gavriel and Fenrys straightened as her power filled the room, filled the city. The Wyrdkey between her breasts began thrumming, whispering.

I’m sorry, lovely readers, I keep ragging on about this, but holy fuck. I hate it so much. SJM wants this scene to be all epic and show what a special snowflake badass Alien is but then she undercuts all that supposed tension by drawing focus to her boobs I just. ajhdafdfagfds dj hdsa im b rea kin g

Alien lets loose some of her power that literally shakes the world and rings bells or some shit? idk i guess its 2deep4me

“What the rutting hell was that?” Rolfe at last demanded. Fenrys and Gavriel became very interested in the map before them. Rowan said smoothly, “Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her.”

ROWBOAT CONFIRMED FOR NICE GUY HOLY SHIT

Aedion and Lysandra arrived after some time—and her cousin only spared Gavriel a passing glance as he stood over the map and fell into that general’s mindset, demanding details large and minute. But Gavriel silently stared up at his son, watching her cousin’s eyes dart over the map, listening to the sound of his voice as if it were a song he was trying to memorize.

Gav deserves a better series than this. I want to take him, Manon, Darrow, and Rolfe away so they can be at peace. How does Darrow/Gavriel sound to everyone? Pure old dads who rule their kingdom fairly, bringing peace and prosperity forward. What a lovely image.

SJM described the meeting rather than shows. It’s basically 90% everyone gushing over how powerful Alien is. Skip!

“You once said I would pay for my arrogance. And I did. Many times. But Sam and I took on your entire city and fleet and destroyed it. All for two hundred lives you deemed less than human. So perhaps I’ve been underestimating myself. Perhaps I do not need you after all.” [Aelin] turned again, and Rolfe sneered, “Did Sam die still pining after you, or did you finally stop treating him like filth?”

Dick move, maybe, but I mean... he’s not wrong. The Assassin’s Blade is literally just Alien being pissy towards Sam for no reason and then he gets angry when their master beats lAlien’s face in (you know, what any normal functioning human being would react like) and she’s suddenly frothing at the mouth to fuck him. Maybe I should review TAB next.........

Rowboat chokes Rolfe and throws him down, and everyone smirks. How are these characters adults? They’re all written like immature teenagers. Anyways, a bell rings out, signifying something bad.

Aelin watched as black - darker than the ink that had been etched there - spread across [Rolfe’s] fingers, to his palms. Black such as only the Valg could bring.

Please action scene I can’t handle one more “witty’ “banter” conversation between these assholes

The door banged open, and Rolfe’s towering figure filled it. “You.” Aelin put a hand on her chest. “Me?”

Pfft. I hated that I snickered at this, but I always laugh at the “dramatic hand on chest” joke.

“And what of your idealism—what of that child who stole two hundred slaves from me? You’d leave the people of this island to perish?” “Yes,” she said simply. “I told you, Rolfe, that Endovier taught me some things.” Rolfe swore. “Do you think Sam would stand for this?” “Sam is dead,” she said, “because men like you and Arobynn have power. But Arobynn’s reign is now over.” She smiled at the darkening horizon. “Seems like yours might end rather soon as well.”

Sam deserves better than this. He was an okay guy to my memory - not a poisonous fuck boy like Rowboat.

“Eight warships teeming with soldiers —at least a hundred on each, more on the lower levels I couldn’t see. They’re flanked by two sea-wyverns. All moving so fast that it’s like storm winds carry them.”

FUCK YEAAAH SEA DRAGONS LETS GO

Rolfe finally breaks down and agrees to join Alien’s war effort. Love it when one of the few good characters is kicked and beaten down to prop up the despicable protagonist. Then we swap to Dorian’s POV.

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane. And perhaps the greatest, most unremorseful liar he’d ever encountered.

Dorian, honey, you okay? Blink twice if Alien is holding you captive.

This war would not be won on smiles and manners. It would be won by a woman willing to gamble with an entire island full of people to get what she needed to save them all.

Yeah, doesn’t that make Alien likeable! I know war involves sacrifice and death but Jesus, could she feel even a little remorse? Innocent people may die today but Aelin’s head is so far up her own ass she doesn’t even care.

Fenrys kept at a distance from the others, but Gavriel remained close, his gaze still fixed on his son. Gods, they looked so much alike, moved alike, the Lion and the Wolf.

Stop ittttt Gavriel deserves better.....

Aelin tells Dorian to stay behind and the chapter ends. God, that was a lot of bullshit in two chapters.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

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evolsinner · 3 years

Text

⊱┊2

after eating as much of the heavily processed food that i could, i crawled into bed. why does he have to leave me in the time that i crave him the most? it's impossible to sleep without his warmth next to me...which leads me to phone my best friend on the burner.

"happy brithdaaaay!" larissa squeals. "did you guys have birthday sex?! actually, wait, no, don't answer that! what'd he get~"

"shhh!" i whisper, giggling. "quiet down, 'rissa."

"right, right, i'm sorry. i have my bedroom door shut and the folks are asleep so don't worry too much," she assures me. "hehe, missed you, best friend."

"missed you too. maxi, alright?"

"he's great! always comes over and plays lego with me and~" she pauses to clear her throat before starting again. "anyways, what did he say this time? am i allowed to visit?!"

i sigh like a deflated balloon, "i'm sorry, larissa."

"what? c'mon! you said we'd get to meet on your birthday!"

"there's still too much buzz out there. has my mom and dad backed down yet?"

"what do you think?"

i roll my eyes, irritated.

my parents didn't take it so well when the news broke out. they thought i was some reckless, disobedient, stupid little girl. as if i care what they think anymore.

i tried to explain it to them in so many ways, so many times ~ via proxies, via payphones, but they won't listen to anything or anyone. they just don't want me spending my life with someone that i barely know. hence, they're doing everything in their power to try and get me away from him.

so far, it ain't working.

"your father hired someone else today," larissa informs me.

i chuckle, "yeah, whatever," dismissing the subtle fear laced in her tone.

"no, rosé, i heard this person is quite good at what they do. i'm worried about you."

"you don't have to be. i've survived this far, haven't i?"

"but 'isaac', do you...do you really trust him?"

"okay, larissa, you're def crossing the line with that one.”

"babe, i didn't mean any offense, i was~"

"listen, i gotta go," i intercept downheartedly. "just tell maxi i love him." with that, i hang up and toss the phone somewhere on the bed.

-ˋˏ ༻🥂༺ ˎˊ-

12 am showers. after shaving my whole body, i place the razor in the soap holder and lather myself up with a body lotion that sorta smells like expensive cologne.

the vapour fills the hotel’s entire swanky bathroom. it's like i'm showering high up in the clouds. weirdly enough, some of the mist scatters away from my lovely cloud nine environment which causes me to shiver like a ghost has gone through me.

"what the hell?" i confusingly rub my eyes to get a clearer view of what's happening. then i realise that the shower screen has opened and a figure is nearing me. oh...my...word...

a body sculptured by the god's steps inside. with his marble eyes glued on me, he reaches his arm back and shuts the glass after himself. i can't help but stare idiotically, practically gaping. i miss him every time he leaves and i get nervous every time he's near me? what is wrong with me?

isaac places one hand on the curve of my waist, and with the other, he cups my cheek, bringing my quivering lips closer to his. "i'll have someone arrange for your friend to come over by the end of this week," he whispers. "that sound okay to you?"

my eyes smile to his response. "thank you."

"no problem."

no problem? no problem?! how can he make a goddamn 'no problem' sound so sexy?! it's gotta be the voice. yep, that's gotta be it. 100%.

he steps forward and i step back so that my spine eventually rests against the glacial porcelain surface behind me. i gently place my pruney palms on his ripped torso to warm myself up twice as fast. his sugary sweet lips brush along my neck, drinking the shower water from my supraclavicular fossa and moving on to suck on a new space of skin every 2 seconds.

i am so in love, drunk off him. dazed, in a haze. "i..need you..now.." i moan.

he continues to mark multiple territories on the canvas of my almost mauve painted neck, him bursting away all of the small superficial blood vessels under my skin.

"please, isaac."

i keep leaning forward, but he keeps pushing me backward, demanding that i go at his pace ~ at his very slow as fuck taunting pace. i get agitated and give up, stepping towards the transparent exit. if he wants to play, then he can play by himself.

he grips my wrist, "rosé."

he's always playing these dumb as hell games with me when he so clearly knows how desperate i am for him! today i'm just choosing not to embarrass myself any further. i don't need no dick. so, bye, isaac, and good luck dealing with that erection on your own. should be fun. should be funny too.

"i'm done showering, sir."

he despises it when i call him 'sir' which is why it's the perfect moment to make use of it, though it doesn't work for some reason. i can tell from that subtle grin forming on his face.

"says who?" he flicks an eyebrow up.

i roll my eyes, "fuck you," and turn to leave.

he straight away hauls me back and pins my pale body up against the tiles. "don't you dare use that tone with me, luv!" he growls and i can't tell if he's actually mad.

one hand of his chokes me and another is directing his member into a concave of lava. he thinks he has the upper hand by choking me like that... he dives inside of me and sets me ablaze. i whimper from the aggressive force of it all. he grunts with each thrust and loses the capacity to take his time.

"i could fuck you forever, rosé, is that what you want?"

i nod frantically.

"slow or fast?" he asks.

"fast."

he drives me to the pinnacle of my climax, my muscles tensing up. his groans, they are harmonic to my ears, and my moans, melodic to his. he pounds into me.

"do not cum yet," he warns.

"i think..i'm.."

"hold it fucking in, luv, or i swear i'll be very disappointed with you."

i grip onto both sides of whatever that's next to me. please can nothing break this time? and, hopefully, we don’t get another noise complaint. my wet core throbs for a wetter release. it doesn't help that sir's grunts also aids in my suffering. i like the sound of his hoarse voice like that.

"c~can i now?"

"not until i say so, now shut the fuck up because you're getting me crossed."

"isaac, i need to!"

unexpectedly, he pulls out and steps back.

"sir?" like a broken little girl, i lift my hand up to his huge muscular bicep.

he smirks and turns away from me like he's getting ready to leave.

"isaac, please! you can't do this!"

"watch me."

i stifle a groan and instead, i bring my hand down, rubbing my button in a circular motion. soft moans escape from my mouth as i try desperately to get myself over the edge.

"the fuck?!" isaac spins back around. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

i ignore him.

he snatches my hand away and holds it upright. "you cannot touch what does not belong to you, little girl."

"yes, i can!"

"you can, huh?"

"none of me belongs to you!" i try to get a reaction out of him. "none, of, me. do you get it?"

he glares at me sexily before pushing me right back onto the tiles and my body makes a wet smacking sound. he plunges into me, so deep and so fast. he pulls out of me, then back in, out, in, out and in so many times, i lose count.

"ahh, sir, it hurts!"

"who do you belong to?!"

"you! you! to you!"

"good girl.”

i internally feel myself implode all over his veiny dick, witnessing streams of transparent liquid pouring out of me. in a flash, isaac pulls out in time to empty out his load all over my thick thighs. i catch my breath before looking up into his marble eyes, its long wet eyelashes sparkling above them.

"now you're done showering, sweetheart."

#teacher x student #love #poetry #poem #aestehtic

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 7 years

Text

Unadulterated Crack Part 12

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Word Count: 1,475

warnings: Angst, Humor, slight violence, Thorin being a diddly dumb ass, Implied smut, Shunning, attempted blackmail, Thranduil being an ass, and alcohol usage

A/N: I know I said you’d get the next chapter in November, but I didn’t want to wait, plus I’m feeling motivated for once.

— Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7— Part 8 — Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 — Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 — Part 18 — Part 19 — Part 20 — Part 21 —

It took Thorin two hours to realize he had over looked you, and left you without reassurance that he was alright. He sought you out, and when he found you leaning up against a boulder on the river bank with Dwalin lurking not far from you. He realized that Dwalin had been more than a little clingy and protective of you then he had in the past. But Thorin thought nothing of it, he assumed that Dwalin was just protecting you because you had Thorin's braids in your hair. He approached you, and once you were in arm's reach he took a hold of your waist between his hands. He cooed, "I am sorry I did not come to you earlier." Much to Thorin's surprise you did not receive him as he had hoped. He had wanted you to hug and kiss him, and ask if he was alright while looking at him with concerned eyes filled with love. Instead you slapped him, hard, across the face and glared at him with cold eyes. You screamed, "What were you thinking! How could you be so reckless, and stupid!"

Thorin held his stinging right cheek, and stuttered, "W-what do you mean!" You seized him by the front of his coat, and yelled, "You went charging into a fight by yourself when you were out numbered, and your enemy had the high ground! You are damn lucky that Bilbo acted when he did or you'd be dead! You are also lucky that I didn't get a chance to get my hands on you sooner cause I would have done more than just slap you! Your people are relying on you to reclaim Erebor and you can't do that if you are dead! Do you know how scared I was that I'd loose you! If you ever do something so stupid again you better hope they kill you or that I don't find out you did, cause if the latter happens I will kill you my own damn self!" throwing your arms around him and sobbing into his shoulder.

After Gandalf told all of you that the viscous bear outside was their host, Beorn, everyone went to settle down for the night. As Bifur, Bofur, Dwalin, Bilbo, and Fili and Kili headed to the barn to sleep you looked over at them and said, "Remember boys, even," Then you bleated like a goat, and continued, "Means no."

The rest of the company burst out laughing, as Thorin rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned at your bestiality joke. Thorin then led you to a pile of hay in the stables, he wrapped his arms around you, and said, "I want you." kissing your neck.

You chuckled, "I'm not quite sure I have forgiven you for nearly getting yourself killed." leaning your head back to expose more of your throat to him. "Then let me make it up to you." He hummed, as his hands began to knead your rear.

At the Elvish Gate, as Gandalf demanded they not free his horse, you grabbed him, pulled him down to your level, and hissed, "You better bring Thrain back alive and in one piece or I swear I will tell everyone about your true nature Olorin!" in his ear.

After he left, you stuck with Thorin and Dwalin, and tried to keep the whole together as they descended into the delirious madness that the forest engenders, which didn't really seem to have any effect on you. You felt like you were a shepherd trying to keep a flock of drunken toddlers together. When the spiders came you didn't stand a chance with the Company being so goofy. When Bilbo cut all of you down, he made sure to do you last so you didn't get squished by your Dwarven companions.

After Thranduil had spoke to Thorin, he sent for you for some odd reason. When you entered the throne room, Thranduil was pouring himself a goblet of wine. He said, "Tell me, what is a child of man doing traveling with a group of Dwarves with a death wish?"

"Death wish? What death wish?" you mocked innocence.

Thranduil glared at you, and states, "The wish to slay a dragon and reclaim a home land."

"Well we're not here to fuck spiders." You sneer. He points at you and firmly whispered, "Do not speak to me in such a manner, I am a king."

"Well I didn't vote for you." you quip.

Thranduil says, "That's not how that works."

"You are a king amongst elves Thrandy, and I am not an elf, so do not expect me to kiss your ass like everyone else with pointless formalities. I am not a child, saying that you have a born right to rule just because of your lineage will not work with me." you snap.

He stared at you for a moment, before smiling softly and saying, "You are a strange girl, but you amuse me. Would you like some wine, it's the very best my halls can offer."

Your mind shoots to the baby, and you huff, "I should not, now did you bring me here merely to get a look at the odd ball, and waste my time. Or did you want something?"

Thranduil examined you closely, his eyes wandering over your form. After a few minutes, his eyes grew wide, and he breathed, "You're pregnant?"

"That is besides the point." You growl, "are you done wasting my time with your games?"

Thranduil said, "It is a child of Durin, is it not?"

"That is none of your business. Now tell me what you want, or I'll go back to the dungeons my own damn self." you puff.

Thranduil sighed, "very well," dramatically, he said, "When I mentioned you to your foolish leader, and he became rather defensive. I wished to know what makes you so unique that you managed to worm your way into that oaf's heart."

"I like to think it's my perky nipples." You snort.

Thranduil laughed, "I see why he seems so fond of you now, you are lively. Tell me does he know you are carrying his child?" You avoided eye contact, with the Elf king, after a minute, Thranduil hummed, "Do you fear that he would not accept your child due to its mixed blood? Is that why you hide it from Thorin?"

"No, I do it to protect him, he has enough to worry about already. He does not need to fret over it now, I will tell him when December rolls around." You admit having been found out.

Thranduil said, "I will make you a deal, if you get me the gems of star light that I desire, I will keep your secret from Thorin."

"I have a counter offer, you even think of opening your big mouth to Thorin, I will take those gems and throw them into the deepest part of the lake." You retort.

His eyes widened as he breathed, "you would not dare."

"Wanna bet?" You huffed.

He looked you up and down before muttered, "I see why Thorin likes you." before saying, "I will not tell your beloved fool that you are with his child, but I require that you at least attempt to convince him to return the gems to me."

"That will not be possible at least until after November twenty third." You shrug.

He eyed you curiously, and asked, "Do pray tell as to why that is?"

"He's been falling deeper into the dragon sickness the nearer we get to Erebor. By the time we actually reach the mountain it will be in full control. But Thorin is not like his grandfather, he will beat it on his own on the twenty third and he will fight in the battle. After then, if he survives, and I do as well, I will help you try to negotiate with him. He's usually more receptive to something when I am around. You will also have to compromise with him, you can't just demand he return them without offering something in return. The mere fact that you foolishly revealed how desperate you are for the return of your wife's jewels means he has the advantage. However I make no promises that I will succeed, I am just one woman Thranduil. I alone cannot undo thousands of years of hate and mistrust between the Dwarves and Elves. Also I do not know if I myself will survive the battle, so do not get your hopes up. However you need to arrive at Erebor after you hear Smaug is dead, with two thousand armed elves, and plenty of food and medical supplies to share amongst Dwarves, men, and elves." You caution.

Thranduil nods his head, and assures, "We have a deal, now I will return you to your cell."

— Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7— Part 8 — Part 9— Part 10 — Part 11— Part 12 (here)— Part 13 —Part 14 — Part 15— Part 16— Part 17 — Part 18 — Part 19 — Part 20 — Part 21 —

TAG LIST: @fictionalquintessence @life-is-righteous @wowjustwow002 @17baldwinn @jumpingmanatee @savvythedork @savvym0use @tschrist1@imaginesreblogged @dracsgirl @lady-of-fandoms @jotink78 @enkelin @arabellaelliana @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @nelswp @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms @fentah

#Thorin Oakenshield #thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #Thranduil #thranduil x reader #the hobbit #tma original #unadulterated crack #10-27-17

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xtruss · 4 years

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MINDSET

4 Ways to Break Your Addiction to Negative Thinking! Did you know that you can be chemically addicted to your negative thoughts?

— Daniel St. Joseph | August 17, 2020

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

“Your thoughts carry you wherever you want to go. Weak thoughts don’t have the energy to carry you far!”

It was found that the average person has about 12,000 to 60,000 thoughts per day. Surprisingly, 80% Were Negative, and 95% were exactly the same thoughts as the day before.

Our tendency to overly concern bad things and ignore good things is likely a result of evolution. Earlier in human history, being alert of dangerous, and negative threats in the world was truly a matter of life and death.

Those who were more adapted to danger and aware of the bad things around them were more likely to survive.

This psychological phenomenon explains why bad first impressions can be so difficult to overcome and why past traumas can have such long lingering effects.

Robert W. Schrauf, Associate Professor of Applied Linguistics at Penn State, conducted a study showing how words provide evidence to how people think and process emotions. In this study, the researchers asked people to list the names of as many emotions unconsciously. These words were then categorized as negative, positive, or neutral.

They discovered that people know significantly more words to describe negative emotions than words to describe positive or neutral emotions. Of all the words participants listed, 50 percent were negative, 30 percent positive, and 20 percent were neutral. And this observation held true across age groups and cultures, suggesting that this a human tendency shared cross-culturally.

Dr. Schrauf also suggests that not only are we all inclined to think negatively, we also involve more profoundly with these emotions. That’s because positive emotions tell us that everything is fine, so there is no need to think about them.

However, negative emotions indicate something is wrong, so we need to pay more attention, time, and energy dealing with these feelings. As Schrauf explains it, “Negative emotions require more detailed thinking, more subtle distinctions. So they require more names.”

Your thoughts are behaviors as well

Choosing thoughts contributes to your experiences because of the consequences associated with those thoughts.

If you choose thoughts that demean and depreciate you, then you choose to become low self-esteem. If you choose thoughts contaminated with anger and bitterness, then you will create an experience of alienation, isolation, and hostility.

When you choose your thoughts, you also choose the physiological events that linked to those thoughts due to the body-mind connection.

For example, imagine biting into a crisp, salty, and crunchy chicken tender. Smell the ketchup and seasoning. Hear the snap of the first bite, taste the explosion of those flavors in your mouth. What happens? I doubt that you begin to salivate, that is, you experience a physiological change in your mouth.

There’s a very powerful connection at work here. Your physiology determines your energy and activity level. If your internal dialogue is negative, then the action will be negative. Your depressed thoughts suppress energy and action. Your body will conform to that central nervous system. You are mentally, behaviorally, and physiologically programming yourself to go through life in a vicious cycle.

You may be with ten different people in a day but you’re with yourself all day, 24/7. You talk and program yourself more than everybody else in your life combined. Some people have tapes that just play over and over in their heads like a continuous loop.

In their famous work, Nobel Prize-winning researchers Kahneman and Tversky found that when making decisions, people consistently place greater weight on negative aspects of an event than they do on positive ones, even when the two possibilities are equivalent.

For instance, people have a stronger negative reaction to losing $20 than the positive feelings they have from gaining $20.

Photo by Chris Liverani on Unsplash

If your internal conversation is full of negative self-talk, it is no wonder why your performance is poor and your life is miserable. Some typical negative statements include:

I’m not smart enough

I’m not attractive enough

I am a loser and can never succeed

I’m so dumb, people will laugh at me

Nobody will listen to a stupid person like me

I’m not from a rich family, there’s no way I can be rich

Negative thoughts can be addicted

Obviously, you may get addicted to drugs, food, and alcohol, but you may also get addicted to your negative thoughts or feelings.

A lot of people want to be positive but it’s so hard, isn’t it?

Maybe you have been negative for so long that your brain just automatically goes towards the negative side. You want to be positive, you want to be happy but for some reason, most days you just find yourself in mystery, slipping into negativity.

It’s due to the fact that you are chemically addicted to your negative thoughts.

You may wonder how am I chemically addicted to a thought?

Here’s the reason:

Once you have a thought that sends an electrical signal from one place to another in your brain at its simplest form. That’s neural signals send something called a neuropetide ( compounds which act as neurotransmitters) down to your body which induces hormone release.

When you think about a really stressful thing, your brain receives that signal, your neuropeptide sends signals down to the adrenal glands — triangle-shaped organs at the top of your kidneys to create the hormones cortisol, aka the stress hormones.

Recently, cortisol has been pained as the evil villain when it comes to stress

If you have thoughts every single day that causes your body to release stress hormones all year long. Guess what? You’re going to become chemically addicted to cortisol which means that your body is going to force the brain to think negatively so that they can get that hit.

Cortisol is a chemical in your brain that tends to flow more freely and spurs negative thoughts. Your brain loves cortisol. Known as an alarm system, your brain releases the chemical cortisol as a way to warn you about imminent danger, and, let’s be honest, that’s pretty helpful at times.

The day I found out I was addicted to negative self-talk

Have you been thinking negatively for 2, 3, 5, 10 years? And now you’re trying to break this thought pattern but you can’t stop going down that route of negativity. Why? Because your body wants you to actually do it as it’s used to those chemicals.

I can tell you that I learned this the hard way. Two years ago, I was listening to a podcast. The guy in the podcast was talking to a psychologist and he said he felt like he was addicted to stress and he started explaining it.

And I talked to myself “Am I addicted to stress?” I worked really well under pressure. I started realizing sometimes I stressed myself out to meet expectations.

Photo by Elijah O'Donnell on Unsplash

I had to consciously calm myself down in the middle of the day knowing that I have created thought patterns stressing me out.

Unconsciously, I continuously searched for opportunities to stress me out because that’s what my body has been used to for a long time.

Positive thoughts can’t save you

How to flip that and become unaddicted to negative thinking? It’s actually simple, but it’s easier said than done.

It’s really hard to become self-aware of negative thoughts. You need to be extremely intentional every single day from the start of your morning.

I once watched a video on youtube called “why positive thinking doesn’t work?”. Imagine I have a bowl in front of me which is filled with water. Then, I put some scoops of dirt into the water. Then, I take a big glass of water and pour it into the bowl. The water is still dirty. I pour another 4–5 glass of water into the bowl. However, this bowl of water is still dirty.

The dirty water represents the negative thoughts you say to yourselves: I’m fat, I’m not good enough to be hanging out with people, you fail a test and think you’re stupid you. There’s tons of dirt in your mind.

When I pour a big huge glass of clean water into the bowl and said “okay I’m going to think positive”. The water is still dirty which explains why positive thinking doesn’t work.

The key thing is negative thoughts should be removed out of your mind

How to become a positive person?

If you don’t feel good, you can’t create the life that you want.

1. Stop Negative Self-Talk

You need to be extremely intentional. As you wake up every day, think about how do you force yourself to think positively. You’re going to look yourself in the mirror and say “I love you, you are amazing” for 10 minutes straight to brainwash yourself into feeling good.

Instead of fixating on past mistakes that cannot be changed, consider what you have learned and how you might apply that in the future.

2. Reframe the Situation

Saying some affirmations that program you for feeling the way you want to feel, thinking the way you want to think because you have been thinking in this freaking negative way for a long time.

Just because you are positive in the morning doesn’t mean it lasts all day long so you’ve got to catch the negative thoughts as soon as possible. You need to become very self-aware of when you start to go down that negative spiral.

The quicker you stop the negative thought, the easier is it for you. If you try to catch the negative thought at the bottom of the spiral, then you lose as you’re already in the negative place

3. Establish New Patterns

Three minutes down the road, you’ve gone through this massive storm of just thinking negative to yourself and now you just feel like you’ve been covered in crap and you don’t feel good. You don’t want to do anything. It all starts with a negative thought and things begin to spiral down.

When you find yourself ruminating on things, look for an uplifting activity to pull yourself out of this negative mindset. You should consciously redirect your attention elsewhere and engage in an activity that brings you joy.

Listening to upbeat music, going for a walk, or reading a good book are all ways to get your mind off negative thoughts.

4. Appreciate Joyful Moments

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

As negative things might be quickly shifted and stored in your long-term memory, you need to make more effort to get the same result from happy moments.

So when something great happens, take a moment to really concentrate on it. Replay the moment several times in your memory and enjoy the wonderful feelings the memory evokes.

Over time, your memory will store more happy moments than sorrow.

Final Thoughts

The key is to become extremely self-aware as negativity starts. Analyze the causes of that negativity: maybe it’s from somebody in your life, maybe it’s a phone call from your boss, maybe it’s a spouse that you need to get a divorce.

You should notice what send you off that path of negativity and get rid of it as soon as possible and replace that one negative thought with three positive thoughts.

If you tend to have a negative vision, don’t expect to become an optimist overnight. But with practice, eventually, your self-talk will contain less self-criticism and more self-acceptance. You may also become less critical of the world around you.

When your state of mind is generally optimistic, you’re better able to handle everyday stress in a more constructive way. That ability may contribute to the widely observed health benefits of positive thinking.

“Don’t ever stop believing in your own transformation. It is still happening even on days you may not realize it or feel like it.” ― Lalah Delia

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anxietyfuckingsucks-blog1 · 8 years

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Mod Sun

mod is a short form of modern and sun is always bright and brilliant but deady if too close

what does this say about his being and who he aspires to be? whatever and whoever this is, is positive and filled with glowing intentions

modern sun. a being who is young and in the current moment..lets face it were always young and time is nonexistent to me--still debating it though bc is anything ever truly nonexistent? anyway, i see an old soul and old friend through this. i am a child of everything. i find myself in everyone and find everyone in myself.

although i lean towards helping people in negative situations, my favorite are those who conquer and turn hardships into productivity. even people who have not had the same hardships as myself, or maybe less in general, and always remain so upbeat BLOW me out of the water. I aspire to be like them in that sense. through this ive made friends of all kinds.. one was a boy in high school who i became rather close with. I was an “outcast” and he played all sports possible which he somehow always succeeded in. He was widely known and was known usually for coming across as an asshole, and oh man, sometimes, he really was. We clashed heads and opinions lots, but our good times outweighed any disagreement by a landslide.

i remember the first time i saw him. i had my usual resting bitch face on and he looked at me, and i glared at him. he smiled and laughed and said “cheer up, buttercup!” and i responded with “dont tell me what to do”

he looked at me a little weird but throughout time we had classes together and passed each other in the hallways. he always took the time to say hello in an excited and energetic manner.

it threw me off, but i was curious. i sat with him one day in class and complimented something that i cannot remember. friendship was not immediate, but hugs started becoming a once in a while thing, and by the time i hit senior year, they were daily.

senior year gym class we had all year together. one day he forgot his clothes and i was like MAAAN WHAT THE FUCK WHO AM I GONNA TALK TO? um the answer was other people because i enjoyed everyone but he was my fave along with a girl from another class of mine

he didn’t react right away and shrugged and walked away. this was SO not like him so i gave him space, told him i was here when he was ready, and would observe him silently. being a wallflower is beautiful.

the next day we saw each other in gym and i offered a hug. i told him that one of the things i appreciated most about him was his energy and that although i understood he couldnt always have it, i missed it. he smiled and sighed and we sat down on a bench and was like “can i talk to you?” my face must have lit up and i was like “yes but quick run into the locker room and change back into normal clothes before the doors lock.” he was like uh, okay, but why? that kills your grade and youre a fucking bitch about getting grades

i laughed so hard and was like “because silly, if were gonna talk were gonna do it right. ill sacrifice my grade for you to feel like someone has their full attention on you.”

we both bolted and came back out. it was the first time we had more than 30 mins max to talk and have a full convo. through that convo, i realized he didnt have as much as i had preconceived him to. i realized that he hurt, his life wasn’t perfect. although he was talented he felt lonely and felt as if no one understood him. we spent our time sitting side by side outside and looking around, and planned a day together at our school’s ropes course.

a few weeks later he “forgot” his clothes and asked me to “forget” mine. we went up to the ropes course that day with the class, but sat aside to talk. we laughed so hard we were in tears, everyone was looking at us oddly but we had not a care in the world.

later on we would revist that course together and jumped around and moved through it. i was not as agile as he, but i admired how he could do these things almost effortlessly...even though the course creaked and squeaked and felt like it could be a death trap. i also admired how he laughed at my failure and made rude jokes but would immediately come over to pick me up off the ground and then say “watch me” ..through trial and error i became slightly better and enjoyed that i was doing it more. i was less embarassed, more willing to do it without hesitation.

through this we bonded mentally and physically. i trusted him more. id let him pick me up during hugs which i NEVER did. we gave each other piggy back rides randomly because we felt like it. the image is funny..a “scene” kid with a face that was mainly stone and intimidating at first...on the back of a jock. i was always smiling in some way. whether he was running to give me a scare and i was screaming at him, or whether we did it with leisure, we were always smiling. sometimes hed carry me or my books while telling me about his life and deciding on whether or not he just wanted me to listen or offer advice as well.

we were always a funny image. two seemingly opposites who always found a way to attract. he started borrowing things from me, band shirts, brass knuckle necklaces. he told me how pretty i looked in more feminine clothes. we both loved who were were at heart, but enjoyed seeing the other one take on something more similar to the other person, even if it wasnt comfortable at first.

we had an affectionate friendship, but at the same time, always kept our distances. we had interests in each other that allowed us to be fascinated with each other together and apart. we never went beyond a hug for three years i believe. i went my way, he went his. but if we came back in sight, we acknowledged each other. we talked outside of school here and there, but rarely ever hung out.

through a gym conversation with him, he told me that sometimes he would go home and look up words in the dictionary to try to learn them so that he could come in to school and impress me. he told me that he felt intimidated by the flow of my words even though they always had a way to do whatever i wanted them to. he said i made him feel dumb. WHYYY the fuuuuck would he feel like this? just because i was a decent student didn’t mean that I couldnt enjoy someone who didn’t excell as much in something as i did. I brought my hands over my face and said through them something along the lines of “duuuude what the FUCK” and i removed my hands and said “i am so sorry, that is never my intention. you did not have to do that bc i love you for who you are and who you truly aspire to be”

that was the first time i said i loved him where i could feel it. worlds collided and somehow meshed together. i realized that even intelligence and stupidity could find common grounds. and through that, he has taught me much. i am forever grateful for him and will carry him in life with me.

of course he picked up on “i love you” and my immediate face of realization and shock afterwards. he smiled and questioned it as if he needed the extra reassurance. i made a face and he said “cheer up buttercup” i smiled, he hugged me, and we split our ways to enjoy our other friends in the class.

although we both thought we were attractive, we did not go beyond that for three years. sometimes hed smack my ass but id turn right around and hit him back. cant tell you how many times in sports he would do something a little harder than i could handle. sometimes things would fly at me and hit me and hurt so bad that id turn around and immediately be red. this happened so often that I would drop whatever i was doing and walk at him and jump at him. id bring him to the ground sometimes. although i never seriously hurt this person physically, I learned how to approach him in a way that he understood not to fuck with me. and i knew that his intentions were never bad. the tennis balls that hit me so hard it left bruises, to the little things hed throw at me to get my attention, we grew. i took a class with him and another boy one time. this other boy spiked a volleyball to the head so hard that it knocked my friend out. i was red in the face immediately but held back my anger because my mothering instincts kicked in full swing. i helped him up, took him to the nurse, and talked to him after he had time to rest. a few days later, that same boy did the same thing to me. but it was different this time. it hit my face so hard (i was turned to the side and not paying attention, so my b i guess) that the whole class turned to look. i was extremely anxious with the attention on me. plus it looked like i was crying but really i was just trying to rub the sting off my face lol. but the boy did something he didnt do to my friend the other day, he laughed. my friend was immediately like man WHAT the fuck come on. he came to my side but by that time it was too late. the girl who was mainly quiet and to herself...5′2 walked up to one of the tallest and well known guys of our graduating class...and she let loose. I had a method in my anger, and when he laughed it off, i walked away. my words were out. what was said was over and done. what he took of it was on him and i knew i did what i could. much to my surprise that night the boy messaged me over facebook and apologized to me. he said he reflected on what i said. the next day in gym i approached him calmly with a small smile and told him that i appreaciated his words and that as long as he was not rude, we had no beef between us. he dated people i knew. i dated people he knew. we dated strangers to one or both of us. but we were always super protective over each other. what hurt him, hurt me. what hurt me, hurt him.

i will never forget our first kiss and how incredibly awkward it was for both of us. it was worth the shot, but we felt nothing that lit a romantic fire. we trialed it twice, but acknowledged it didn’t come naturally to us. and that was okay. if it was meant to be, it would be.

i will never forget graduation. i dressed up and looked very feminine. but at the same time, i was in all black and carried my unique style with me as well. we bumped into each other and both looked up and down. i realized how manly he looked and how proud i was of him and how excited i was to hear of his future trials, tribulations, and triumphs. we wished each other well on our way, and that was the last time i saw him until a year later.

a year after graduation we got into a convo. we talked about everything and planned a visit although he moved further away. one night he came to me crying and told me that he missed me so much and felt so lost again. told me that he missed high school because the highlight of his day was always seeing me. i could get him like no other no matter what without a single pass of judgement. that i was the only person he could think of that could do that.

although this is quite a compliment, i took it humbly. he was hysterical, it was late and my car wasn’t great. i asked for his address and told him to expect me within an hour and a half. i told my parents i was going to a girlfriend’s house and left.

When i pulled up to his place he was sitting in the rain on a rail outside. as soon as he saw my headlights he walked over and pulled me out of the car and hugged me and swallowed hard and deep and sighed. of course, we let go and he snapped at me BITCH YOUVE BEEN GONE FOR TOO LONG...now lemme help you park your car its tricky here.

We went inside, he gave me a tour. We talked with his mom and brother and then went out back to sit on the porch. We caught up little by little, but talked mainly about what bothered us most. We smoked a little weed, made some food, went inside, i helped him clean, i watched him play videogames bc hes a huge nerd but its cute when someone is passionate about something that does no harm, so whatever. but as i started drifting off, he told me that i could take the bed and that he wasn’t sleeping for quite some time. the last thing i remember before falling asleep was warm lips on my forehead and the feel of a fan on me since he had no ac and the humidity and heat made us uncomfortable.

i woke up that morning to make the drive home so i wouldnt be home too late. when i opened my eyes i realized he was passing out next to me and had put up a pillow wall between us and grabbed extra blankets so we could each have our own just in case. he looked over and i had a look on my face that he knew well. he chuckled and said “the truth? i wanted to be close to you without weirding you out or making you uncomfortable. i kept an eye on you while you slept. sometimes you shivered, so i grabbed blankets. sometimes you made a troubled face so id put my hand back and reach for your arm...ALSO WHEN THE FUCK DID YOU GET AN ARM TATT?!”

I got up and told him to get comfortable but told him we could talk later, but that I was going to stay with him until he fell asleep. I changed my clothes, went to the bathroom, but always peeked back in. it wasn’t long before he was asleep. i wish i would have said something like “see you later, friend” instead of “bye”

he sleepily told me to text him when i got home so he knew i was safe. and like that, he was out.

we did talk later. but that was the last time that we had a hangout without troubles or worries...with our phones aside, where we were more free and less shackled. its been months. i miss my friend, but i will carry him with me forever. i trust in the fact that what will be, will be. i can miss him but acknowledge now is not the moment to be close. so i often follow thoughts such as “i miss my friend” with thoughts that are confident and true..such as “but he is strong and we have a bond that is unlike any other, we will come around” i say we because relationships are group efforts as much as your own. i believe that everything should aim to be 50/50. we will come around. we both have things in our life that made this moment less possible currently. but we will grow. we will learn. and one day, we will reconnect again in some way, shape, or form.

it was while listening to a mod sun playlist where i realized i could relate a song to several situations, and several situations to EVERY song. thank you my dear!:)

howlin at the moon thoughts

did it again last night, turned into an animal, wolf howl

it is my belief that animals and humans are much more connected than we currently understand as populations in whole

the wolf howl interested me because my spirit animal is a wolf and i have always found myself having qualities of my wolf, but also qualities about myself. A wolf represented me, but wasnt me?

animalistic behavior

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