#i have cried at this show so many times already and i'm only halfway done aowifejaoijfew

[vulpixelates]

i am so sad that isuzu/rin wasn't really in the og fruits basket anime that i watched as a kid (as far as i can remember?) bc she legit would have rewired my brain chemistry

like. my little baby gay, goth middle school heart would have been OBSESSED w her on sight. even now i want half of her outfits, like just look at them

[fullofgutsndopamine]

We Could Build A Home (We Could Play Pretend) five

previous masterlist

TW/I angst, cursing, alcohol, alcoholism, toxic/abusive relationship with parents (yours/charlies), toxic masculinity, heavy reference to physical abuse, fighting, charlie is a dick

the days after are filled with you trying to find a new hobby, something to keep your hands busy, to keep your mind off him and the sting that came with the song-

and also, trying to keep the snippet of the song you heard out of your head. it plays again and again, like a lullaby, taunting you in the back of your head when your eyes close, when your eyes wander over to his side of the house

Everything reminds you of him, and it's torture.

Even the lake, that sits right in your front yard, can see it when you're poured over doing dishes, reminds you of him, the days you'd sit on his broken pier, holding his hand as he walked you down it, could give in at any second, a torn beach towel in his hand as he laid it down for you, laid next to you, his hand on top of yours as he made the motion with the lake gently, crashing into the sea-wall, retreating, hitting again-

"I think in a past life, I was the lake."

you crane your head to look at him, his arms folded behind his head, your head rests on his arm and you watch him silently.

he look even more tired in the sun, you spent half this time tracing the marks the sun brought out onto his face gently, fingers dance from one to the next, gently scoop your fingers into his dimples, the kind that only seems to show up when he's out of his house-

you use your elbow to prop yourself up more, to really look at him, because he hasn't done much talking lately, especially not anything deep-act like you don't feel his hand on your lower back when you sit halfway up

His hand is still over yours, larger than yours, calloused to hell and back and scarred- "I'd find you," he says quietly, gently, "past life or not. Whatever you come back as, i'd find you."

and the moment is to sweet for a second, makes you roll back onto your back: "even if i was a worm?"

a lazy laugh comes back, uses his hand to block the sun out of his eyes, "i'd dig through every last tomato plant to find you, sunshine."

You bite your lip, because you know this is a joke, but it's still sweet to you, still means something to you-those little notes he'd leave in your mailbox, usually just a reminder that it was trash night, or something silly like that, signed with a C and a scribble, hit you that was a worm, all this time later-

you miss those nights, would do anything for them, and the next house over, so would charlie-

It comes in a rare moment of his father not drunk off his ass, asks where you are, seems genuinely surprised to not find you in his wake.

and charlie hasn't had time to practice this, hasn't slept in two days, got up when he heard the screen door slam close to make his father breakfast-

charlie cuts into a pancake he made, "Not sure, sir," Wilbur mumbles, and his father hates mumbling, hates when charlie doesn't look at him when he's speaking. "I think they've been busy with-"

his fathers fists slam on the kitchen table, "Look at me when you speak, charles. I don't know how many god damn times we have to go over this."

and his patience for the day is slowly draining, pouring out of his father, and he wishes he could scoop the patience back into him, just wants a good day, cried himself to sleep over you last night-

"Yes, sir." charlie places the fork down, eyes dart around for a second before he licks his lips and continues, "I think they've been working-"

his voice cracks. knows he's going to have to practice speaking about you, get rid of the crack his voice makes, will have to adjust to a life without you-charlie clears his throat, begging himself to pull it together for just a second.

"You cryin', boy?" His dad is yelling already, zero to sixty in seconds flat, "I'm tryin' to raise a man, ain't no boy of mine gonna be cryin'-"

His father makes his way across the table and charlie’s eyes slam shut, prays for it to be over, for it to end-usually, he'd be thinking of you, the constant that got him through it, but now, that hurt even more-

His face is harder, when he goes into town without you, less apology's with shaking hands for the paying in change, more of a stoic: "Say something. i dare you." on his face now, not the same charlie who stopped to pick flowers and carefully tuck them behind your ear as you both made a day of shopping around.

You start hearing all these stories of him, his fists doing the talking to anyone in town who had anything at all to say (the stories aren't passed down, of course, of the cashier who's at the receiving end of his fist, a snide comment that they're glad he dropped you, was trash anyways, would end up like your father, or if you're lucky, dead like your mother-)

You go out of your way to avoid seeing him, so when you finally do, a hot day for the Fall, even by Michigan's standards, sweat has your bangs plastered to your forehead as you tear weeds up-somehow, the sound of the gravel under feet surprises you, you jump-and there he is.

and there the fuck he is.

part of you is so excited to see him, not use to this hiatus of him, you want to drop the shovel out of your hand and run to him, throw your arms around his neck as he spins you around like he use to-

his move first, you tell yourself quietly.

instead, a small crowd is behind him, these new friends of his you know only in passing, wouldn't be able to tell you their names, have cupped hands and are whispering to one another as they stare at you, at the house.

and charlie is swaying back and forth in his spot, drunk, even after he said for years and years, he wouldn't do that, not after what you two have seen-

charlie speaks first, and you half don't even want an apology, all he would have to do is say your name, or darling or acknowledge your existence-and you'd forget those sleepless nights over him, missing him.

"i was always the dumb one, right?" he hiccups, is so obviously drunk, "Just in your shadow"

Where the fuck is this coming from?

"charlie, you fucking idiot." You stand, dust the dirt off your knees, "What are-"

He's talking, or more yelling, because he could never whisper, even when he wasn't drunk, and was just a kid following you around in his dad's too big tee-shirts and broken overalls, missing teeth and his father's cowboy hat too big for his head, always falling over his eyes as he talked in an excited lisp about the lake, the fish. When he was a child and everything was less scary-

You can't look at his face, the black eye he wears, the fact that you aren't even sure if it was the receiving end of his father or a stranger hurt more-

Jason is in charlie’s crowd. He has a beer bottle in-between his fingers, but he's pulling at the collar of his shirt as he's looking at you, not the confident Jason who's been by your side, the one who ended every comment with "That's what she said" or a snort, comes to charlie’s side as he's talking to you, ranting to you, more like it, claps him on the shoulder, makes charlie jump.

"C'mon, charlie." Jason says, "Why don't you show me your guitar you were talkin' about? Or the motor. I could fix it, probably." Jason swings back his beer, takes it and chucks it into your recycling can, makes charlie hiccup again, must've lost his train of thought.

"Y-yeah?" charlie says gently, eyebrows squished together, looks so fucking confused, "T-the engine."

And Jason turns him, leads him by his shoulder, turning around to you with wide eyes, you mouth thank you and wait until he's out of sight to let your shoulders drop and wipe at your leaking eyes

[vivacissimx]

Jon's bastard identity & it's ripples through House Stark

Wanted to make a post about Jon's bastard identity and how it informed his close relationships with his family but halfway through realized it wasn't actually about Jon—it was about Catelyn.

There is generally a split in consideration when we talk about Jon and the starklings (familial love), Jon and Catelyn (mutual disdain), and Catelyn and the starklings (parental/filial love) when in reality, Cat's feelings towards Jon bled into her relationships with her own children. Conversations about mothers in ASOIAF are sort of prickly because, well, we don't have many and Catelyn is the only POV mom we can really name a "good mother" (in my view Cersei's most impressive and meaningful foil is ADWD Daenerys but her and Catelyn share enough space/thoughts of each other that they should also be considered so).

Her relationship with Jon isn't really about Jon personally, it's about what he represents; it's about Catelyn lingering discomfort and alienation in the North

Catelyn had never liked this godswood

-AGOT, Catelyn I

When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. That cut deep.

-AGOT, Catelyn II

It's about her protective love for her children and her legacy

Benjen Stark was a Sworn Brother. Jon would be a son to him, the child he would never have. And in time the boy would take the oath as well. He would father no sons who might someday contest with Catelyn's own grandchildren for Winterfell.

-AGOT, Catelyn II

[Also the implication that Benjen would become Jon's father in replacement for Ned? Loads to unpack.]

It's also about a certain sort of idealism that Catelyn espouses, and yes, even a certain trace of selfishness within that, that her actions being understandable from her own position justifies them. Even when those actions constitute a breach, they deserve nuance, which requires a level of understanding she wasn't able to show Jon Snow.

I have always done my duty, she thought. Perhaps that was why her lord father had always cherished her best of all his children. [...] I gave Brandon my favor to wear, and never comforted Petyr once after he was wounded, nor bid him farewell when Father sent him off. And when Brandon was murdered and Father told me I must wed his brother, I did so gladly, though I never saw Ned's face until our wedding day. I gave my maidenhood to this solemn stranger and sent him off to his war and his king and the woman who bore him his bastard, because I always did my duty.

-ACOK, Catelyn VI

Is this my punishment for opposing him about Jon Snow? Or for being a woman, and worse, a mother? It took her a moment to realize that they were all watching her. They had known, she realized. Catelyn should not have been surprised. She had won no friends by freeing the Kingslayer, and more than once she had heard the Greatjon say that women had no place on a battlefield.

-ASOS, Catelyn V

Read: Catelyn was rewarded for being dutiful at a formative age, with the love of her father. Catelyn was dutiful to Ned and this pained her re: Jon and that pain festered for fifteen years. Later in this POV, she pries Cleos Frey for information on Sansa. Her next POV, Bran and Rickon are the final straw before she frees Jaime—Catelyn is knowingly spurring her "duty" to follow Robb's commands.

Read: Catelyn should not have been surprised, understanding that her actions caused controversy, and yet she was.

Ok, now onto the starklings.

Catelyn's treatment of Jon informs Robb's understanding of bastards as much as Ned's sense of honor does. This is very much a domino in Robb's (fatal) choice to marry Jeyne Westerling.

That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell."

-ASOS, Jon XII

Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother …"

"She was … very kind," Jon told him.

Robb looked relieved.

-AGOT, Jon II

And she was with me when the Greatjon brought me the news of . . . of Winterfell. Bran and Rickon." He seemed to have trouble saying his brothers' names. "That night, she. . . she comforted me, Mother."

Catelyn did not need to be told what sort of comfort Jeyne Westerling had offered her son. "And you wed her the next day."

He looked her in the eyes, proud and miserable all at once. "It was the only honorable thing to do. She's gentle and sweet, Mother, she will make me a good wife."

-ASOS, Catelyn II

Contrast that with these Jon lines:

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

-AGOT, Jon I

He had never truly been a Stark, only Lord Eddard's motherless bastard, with no more place at Winterfell than Theon Greyjoy. And even that he'd lost.

-ASOS, Jon III

Jon angsts over how he grew up with Robb and yet they'll lead such different lives; on the flip side, Robb angsts over how he could possibly subject another child to the most painful parts of Jon's life—nameless, at times scorned even within his own home.

I'm not attempting to put blame on Catelyn's shoulders for anything, these are all just pieces of a puzzle that made Robb into who he was, that guided his choices, and that moved the story. What I am saying is that Catelyn's treatment of Jon was not isolated, it was plain and painful to her biological children, and that this caused friction between them all.

"Jon would never harm a son of mine."

"No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?"

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer's crypt, his teeth bared. Robb's own face was cold. "That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon."

"So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa. . . your own sister, trueborn. . ."

-ASOS, Catelyn V

Which brings me to Sansa.

In a twist for the daughter that values legitimacy more than the rest of her siblings (Sansa, who never called him anything but "my half brother" since she was old enough to understand what bastard meant), Sansa is bastardized two times over. Once when Robb removes her from her from the Stark succession, and twice when she becomes Alayne Stone.

"Natural?" Sansa was aghast. "You mean, a bastard?"

-ASOS, Sansa VI

Alayne wondered what Mya made of Ser Lothor. With his squashed nose, square jaw, and nap of woolly grey hair, Brune could not be called comely, but he was not ugly either. It is a common face but an honest one. Though he had risen to knighthood, Ser Lothor's birth had been very low. [...] Petyr says he's loyal. He trusts him as much as he trusts anyone. Brune would be a good match for a bastard girl like Mya Stone, she thought.

-AFFC, Alayne II

I want to stress that this isn't thought unkindly. Sansa pragmatically believes this, she doesn't dislike either Mya or Lothor Brune, but she is being a certain type of realistic. It would make sense to her that Mya, not a virgin, bastard-born, would take for a partner this seemingly nice guy twice her age. It's a match that makes sense to Sansa.

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm.

"Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!"

-AGOT, Sansa III

It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon's mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn't been some mistake. Perhaps the grumkins had stolen her real sister.

-AGOT, Sansa I

This isn't about playing sisters against each other, it's just to show Alayne's thoughts on Mya are a graduation of the same general attitude Sansa's had from childhood. It's the hinge on which Sansa and Arya's relationship becomes so sour, a souring that leaves both girls isolated in the Red Keep, and results in them taking actions that lead them on very different roads. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

Arya is the place where Catelyn's relationship with Jon really comes back to bite, though.

They had always been close. Jon had their father's face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her.

-AGOT, Arya I

Why is Arya afraid of being a bastard? Jon gets to learn at Maester Luwin's table and train with Ser Rodrik's swords and fish with Bran and Jory just like Robb does. What's there to fear?

The fear comes from one place, and that fear doesn't soon leave her.

"Well," Arya said, "my hair's messy and my nails are dirty and my feet are all hard." Robb wouldn't care about that, probably, but her mother would. Lady Catelyn always wanted her to be like Sansa, to sing and dance and sew and mind her courtesies. Just thinking of it made Arya try to comb her hair with her fingers, but it was all tangles and mats, and all she did was tear some out.

-ASOS, Arya VII

Maybe I should go to the Wall instead of Riverrun. Jon wouldn't care who I killed or whether I brushed my hair. . .

-ASOS, Arya VII

Actually Catelyn wants Arya back so damn bad she freed their God-tier hostage on the vague whiff of hope Arya was still alive but this isn't about what Catelyn really wants, it's about what Arya believes + what those beliefs are founded on. Jon's difference from Catelyn's kids lies most superficially in the way he looks, and Arya looks like him. Arya takes this "exclusion → exclusion based on appearance → I appear that way" fear personally to the point that she thinks she looks like a bastard.

It's because of this fear that she can't fathom that her mother would accept her unconditionally.

To Robb, bastardry symbolizes a stain on a legacy. To Sansa, it's shame. To Arya, it's about acceptance. All three of these are rooted in what they internalized as kids: Jon is a bastard and regardless of his place in Winterfell/their family, that makes him less.

I want to touch on the part of this that is about Jon, for a sec. Bastards are common and attitudes on them vary—although plenty of smallfolk are born of unwed parents, noble bastards represent something more, because nobility claims to espouse higher ideals like fidelity. Mance Rayder is born of a Black Brother & a wildling, yet he calls Jon a bastard (derogatory) fiftyleven times. Some bastards are scorned, some are loved, some are uninterested in their origins. There are bastards who possibly stand to inherit, like Jonos Bracken's, and there are mothers who don't want their husband's bastards in their homes, like Donella Hornwood with Larence Snow.

But in ADWD when Jon is most vulnerable & alone, he starts to calls himself a bastard to harden his resolve.

"I am almost a man grown," Jon protested. "I will turn fifteen on my next name day, and Maester Luwin says bastards grow up faster than other children."

-AGOT, Jon I

Kill the boy, Jon thought. The boy in you, and the one in him. Kill the both of them, you bloody bastard. "You have no father. Only brothers.

-ADWD, Jon II

The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. As a boy, he often felt as if the lady grudged him every bite.

-ADWD, Jon IV

"Arya." His voice was hoarse. "My half-sister, truly…"

"…for you are bastard born. I had not forgotten. I have seen your sister in my fires, fleeing from this marriage they have made for her. Coming here, to you. A girl in grey on a dying horse, I have seen it plain as day. It has not happened yet, but it will."

-ADWD, Jon VI

"My name is Snow."

"Bastard."

"Guilty. Of that, at least."

-ADWD, Jon X

Not to put too fine a point on it but he's literally called... Lord Snow.

"Don't call me Lord Snow."

-AGOT, Jon III

"BOY! YOU THERE! BOY!" [...] He ignored it.

"Snow," the voice insisted, "Lord Commander."

This time he stopped. "Ser?"

-ADWD, Jon I

What I want to say here is that Jon weaponizes his bastard identity against himself only because it's been weaponized against him and worked. It's self-flagellation. That legacy is deep inside of him and it was never even about him to Catelyn.

But it's a double-edged sword, because Jon's differentiation as a bastard didn't only affect him. Home interprets heaven. When Lady Catelyn crafted a home (so intentionally warm and loving for her children) that was dismissive to Jon, it wasn't only the two of them in that home. It wasn't only Jon who learned that children can be anathema, and it isn't only Jon who carries that weight.

[rumblelibrary]

Have you ever thought about writing a continuation to Unofficial Meeting? I'm dying to know whether Laszlo earns the reader's forgiveness and if she accepts his proposal or not. Have a good day! 😚

Undisclosed Meeting [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader]

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Laszlo self deprecating himself hard

A/N: how could I give up a chance to make my boy Laszlo happy? Thank you so much for requesting it, it really made me happy to have an old story requested. Here is the original story

“Are you even listening to me?”

Violet inquired as you blinked surprised and taken aback. She invited you over for an afternoon tea, but your mind kept wondering off to what happened between you and Laszlo. You haven’t seen him in over a month and to be honest you missed him. The first few days you were firm on your choice, he upset you and your family, he crossed your boundaries mindlessly.

But then you realised how he meant to ask your hand to your father, how he never meant for you to be hurting, he just wanted to make it official.

Your grandmother tried to talk you out of your anger but she didn’t managed to, it was over anyway. You upset each other, you closed that chapter.

If you have feelings for him that chapter is not closed, your grandmother told you but you tried to ignore it. You haven’t seen him in so long, not even at some event or where you’d usually expect him to be. He kept sending you flowers to you until the end of the previous month. That silly man, always hating to leave things halfway done.

“I am, I am just a bit tired” you said as she waved her hand 

“nonsense ” she said offering you to try some sweets while she stood up to call her maid and gather what she meant to show you “I’ll show you now the latest Paris fashion and you’ll have to wake up” 

She was your friend, she was sweet and she knew you were on a rough patch now and she did all in her power t keep you distracted.

“Charles stop it”

John’s voice rang through you ears as you stood up to see what was going on from the window facing the luscious back garden of the Moore residence. Little Charles was the spit image of his parents and an adventurer at heart, you could tell from the way he kept his father busy running after him.

You smiled as John gave up opening his arms in defeat.

“What I have to do?” He groaned making you chuckle as for a moment it looked like he was asking to God, but when you noticed that he was in fact talking to Dr Kreizler who was sitting on a bench. You codlin’t help but rest your eyes on him, he looked pale, tired like he wasn’t sleeping. He was like this during investigations but as far as you knew there was no one at the moment.

“Wat you have to do John? Let the boy be” he said as a tired smile crept onto his lips.

“Yes, he will break his skull in a second”

Laszlo shook his head looking at him “If you prevent him from doing anything he won’t never learn” he said as he spoke matter of factly but that tiredness in his voice was evident. You wondered what kept him up.

You wondered if t was your fault.

But then you saw the sweet look he had for the child as he picked a ball that was hiding behind his back to give it to him to play with.

He was so good with kids, it was incredible.

You knew it was his job, but the tenderness he showed with them was something you felt on your own skin as you used to be allowed to be part of that special round of people that got to see him being sweet.

You moved away from the window just in time for Violet to come back, her maids holding onto over twenty new items of clothing.

“V” you said to her as the use of that little nickname sparked already her attention “I have to ask you a favour”

It was dead in the evening when Laszlo got asked from Violet to meet a friend of hers with a child with various problems.

The symptoms she described didn’t really add up, they should be excluding each other. But no matter what he decided to go there. 

He usually was very firm about his privacy and the times he could meet or not patients, even though the secrecy of the hour would be typical of a wealthy family trying to hide some kind of a problem they judge as shameful, he also came to a point where work was all he got.

He missed you, everything reminded him of you. He hoped to see, he would be a liar if he didn’t admit to have handed a dollar or two to your maid to at least know how are you.

He didn’t mean to stalk you, he just wanted you happy and once more he was acting behind your back. But your maid told him you were fine and doing your business, so he stopped inquiring. He didn’t deserve you in the first place anyway, but how things ended really pained him, he really thought to be doing right and he really wanted to have a future with you, to have many what John has.

But what nonsense thinking about it now that it is all gone and by his own hand, he had nobody to blame but himself.

As he arrived to the building he got inside surprised not to find anyone at service but only an open door.

The instinct would have told him to go away, but he was reckless by now, he already lost what he cared the most.

Walking inside the candlelit hallway he was surprised to get to a large living room only to find you there.

The truth was that he stopped on his track to admire you. You were amazing, he adored you in any possible shape and form, everything from your clothing to your composure screamed for his eyes to be fixated onto you.

He took that moment to look at you, take in your image, last time you two spoke you were so upset and he didn’t want that to be the last image he had of you.

“I am more discreet than you when I have to do things in secret” you said and he smiled lightly

“You’re”

His admission, the tiredness of his look just paining you.

“Is this a house of your family?”

“Yes, it is my aunt’s but she is on some cruise with her husband”

He nodded quietly as he looked around moving closer to you, the candles around you making him feel like the moment was set in another time.

“You didn’t have to make an appointment to meet me”

“Well, I asked a friend for a favour, I could have paid Stevie to drive you here anyway” you answered, basically hinting him that your maid didn’t keep his little inquiring a secret between the two of you.

He nodded gulping down, he felt like he was naked in front of you, defenceless and anything you could attack him with would really hurt. 

“I though that after our last conversation we needed to speak alone and in a neutral ground, I attacked you and I know I moved past my means”

“Just like I did inquiring about your life without permission” he concluded for you, he kept thinking about that day over and over, he couldn’t take it out of his mind and he even thought it would be easy only because so many people hated him already, button you. He wished you’d never be one of them.

“Miss Y/L/N” the fact he used your last name showing how he was trying to prove you some respect, not using your first name like you’re somehow close, mostly because he doubts you’d wish him close at any time.

“All I have ever wanted was to be worth of you”

His words trembling, like snakes sliding onto your skin.

He opened his mouth to say something and he closed it as he stared somewhere away from you, he shook his head slowly. The pain visible through him.

“I am a despicable failure as a human being, I know it” he said as he rose his hand to invite your silence “I have spent my life trying to find a common language  to get through people, studying them ,making sure to be able to read human behaviour to allow myself the freedom of interaction. I am not a natural like John, I can’t just go on a group and charm my way through it and I knew, I knew from the moment you allowed me to be close to you that I would ruin it because I am such social wreck, because I can’t control myself or I can’t not follow the rules that I have been told are the right path to follow”

He let out a shaky breath as he looked down and then up at you, he was trying to hold back tears but the truth was that he cried for losing you, He cried for nights and days.

“I apologise once more, I wanted to do you right and I just overstepped you. I always admired you for your being independent and clever and I reduced you to an object with my insensitive behaviour. I always make myself strong from talking my way through people and I blindsided you when words were the most needed”

You looked at him as maybe for the first time he really throw away the mask, he really let himself speak up.

“I valued what you did for me” you blinked at him surprised, your head slightly falling on side to observe him.

He was going down the self deprecating himself hill, you could almost count how much time there was between him going down onto his arm topic. You know that was always his undisclosed weakness, how he hated it and saw himself as unlovable because imperfect.

“It is yes”

He looked at you with a frown not seeing what you mean.

“My answer for your question”

He frowned even more, what question? You could hear it resonate into his mind as he didn’t ask you anything, he came to you to apologise and…

And then he got it.

His eyes widened as he opened his mouth only to close it again.

No, he was probably misunderstanding, once more reading badly the situation.

You picked your left glove slowly taking it off to show him you were wearing his ring on your hand.

He stared at you, his hand hesitantly moving to pick yours bringing it up to his lips and resting a kiss over it, his hand holding yours as he stared up at you.

His wet eyes now unmistakable from cha closeness, the signs of his lack of sleep visible.

“In a marriage there shouldn’t be secrets, I tried to avoid something shameful for me when you allowed me to see every part of you” you admitted as you weren’t free from blame, you referred to pretend something wasn’t there rather than facing it.

He stared at you with shaky breath, as he licked his lips trying to find words.

“I love you Laszlo, I really want to be your wife”

His jaw trembled as the happiness rushed over him like electricity, his hand bringing yours over his heart beating so fast and hard that he felt it could explode.

“I love you Y/N” he whispered as you caressed his cheek with your right hand as he leaned down, still not daring to believe what was happening.

So you just did it, you leaned in closing the space between the two of you with a kiss.

The times were changed.

Women could accept wedding proposals without their father’s approval, men could cry for love and love words were made of truths and exposed weaknesses and not by the words of dusty poets. And with such strong ideals you could only imagine your life as set up for a greater kind of happiness with him.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

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Chishiya × Reader

Warnings: swearing, violence, blood (it's Alice in Borderland, we're you expecting anything different?), abuse (none done by Chishiya towards you), harassment  (again, not done by Chishiya towards you), mentions of past scars (not sh)

"I don't want to hide, please I'm so tired of hiding!"

You had lived a life of pain. You didn't know why. All you knew was your father and mother were cruel. They constantly manipulated your emotions, guilting you for certain things, and punishments that weren't deserved. Because of this, you had grown up to be resilient and learned to not take that treatment from anyone. Although the scars and burns never healed, you used them as cautionary tales. So, when you got dragged into the games, and learned a bit more about the world, you learned a couple things. 1, you can't hide from death. 2, hide the feelings you have for people. 3, try not to get to close to anyone as they could leave you in the blink of an eye.

So, just like you used to hide back then, you hide now.

Eventually, you found a place called the Beach. A safe haven for all players of the game, as long as all rules were followed. You had a formed a sort of relationship with Chishiya. You craved the praise of someone who you thought was better, the soft touches that you never got, and he craved the control he got. He hadn't hurt you. And he wouldn't. You broke your rules for him, seeing maybe it wasn't so bad.

But soon the sweet praises and soft touches turned to cold glances, and silence. You felt broken. You had never been made of glass, but when he stopped talking to you, you shattered. You didn't know if you were even allowed to feel that way, as you and Chishiya had never established what you were. Friends with benefits? You thought he cared. But you assumed he didn't because of his recent treatment.

"No thank you. I'd rather not," you said when a boy came up to you, obviously drunk asking you to go back to his hotel room. "Come on, I can show you a good time~" he slurred, stumbling closer. "No. You're drunk, and you're really not my type," you repeated, taking the shot of tequila in front of you. Suddenly, he grabbed your arm. "Let me go, what  the fuck!" You shouted, trying to get away. No one batted an eye, this being a normal occurrence at the beach. You quickly and harshly kicked him in the stomach. He doubled over, throwing up on the floor. You took your chance and kicked him in the head repeatedly. "Learn some fucking respect, and maybe girls would like you!" You shouted, switching to kicking his stomach. Your got tugged into someone. "Calm down," you heard a voice say from behind you. You knew who it was. "Don't you think you can fucking tell me what to do. Go manipulate some other girl's feelings," you retorted, fighting against him. "I never did such a thing. And calm down," he whispered into your ear, tracing his hands down your arms. "Don't fucking touch me," you spat, breaking free from his grip. You walked out of the hotel bar, making a beeline to your room.

      "Chishiya, stop following me. You're not getting anything, and I only had one shot, so you can't do anything," you said, knowing he followed you. "I just want to talk. And make sure you don't kill anyone," he said. You could hear his smirk, and even though he was behind you, you could see his eyes spark in joy at the thought of annoying you. "Talk about what?" You asked, walking towards your door. He followed as you got to your door. "I can't tell you out here. In private," he said. You sighed, turning to face him. "Fine. You come into my room, tell me what it is, and you leave after we talk," you said sternly, opening the door to your room. He walked in behind you,walking into the room as you closed the door.

   "What do you want to talk about?" You asked, putting on a hoodie and sitting on your bed. "Well... I have a plan. And I thought you'd want to hear it," he said. You sighed, and nodded, telling him to go on.

"And that's the plan so far. And with the newcomer, he can be the perfect pawn for us to play with, my queen," Chishiya ended, grabbing your hands. You pulled them away from him. "That hurt," he said sarcastically. "Good. And don't call me that. You made it perfectly clear you don't love me or want anything to do with me,'' you stated. He looked at you in confusion. "What do you mean? I thought I was making it clear that you intrigued me, and I liked spending time with you? Obviously or else I wouldn't have done all those things with you," he said, getting closer. "Oh yeah, I totally could tell when you stopped any and all interaction with me right after it, and started glaring at me from halfway across the room," you said, anger becoming more apearant in your tone. He mentally made a note of not doing that to you anymore, and to note your trust issues (yes, I'm calling you out) "(Y/N), I didn't... I just remembered the rules I had set for myself. To not fall in love in the games, because I would only end up getting hurt, and to worry for only my own safety. You... you changed that, and I...  I got thrown off by it, ok?" He said, sitting next to you on the bed. It was true. Because after spending so much time with you, he started worrying about you and how your games were going. If you had gotten hurt, or worse died. It scared him to feel that much for another person as he was a pretty apathetic person. "I-if that's true then why didn't you just tell me?" You stuttered, feeling his body heat next to you. You refused to look over to him, feeling the bed shift besides you. "I already told you why... didn't you listen?" He whispered into your ear. You shivered at this, scooting away. "I-i said we would talk and nothing else," you said, trying to change the subject, reminding yourself what you had said more than anything. "Let me... take care of you... And show you how much I love you..." he cooed into your ear. His words were saccharine sweet, dripping like honey into your ear. "B-but then... then you'll leave me alone again," you whispered, scooting to the top of the bed, your shoulder against the headboard. Chishiya listened to you, looking at how you had curled yourself up next to the headboard. "You look so cute like this..." he said, curling up behind you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you flinched when he began tracing your scars. His hands worked up to the hem of your hoodie. You panicked, before remembering you still had your swimsuit on. "You must want something more. You're being to nice," you said, not pulling away or moving. A part of you wanted him to stay. To hold you and make you feel loved. But another part of you wanted him to leave. "I don't want anything. I just want you," he whispered into your ear. He pushed up the sleeves of your hoodie, and began kissing the scars that littered your skin. (I KISSED THE SCARS ON HER SKIN- Ok, I'll stop) He knew you hadn't done them to yourself. He knew what your parents had done, and had found it disgusting. Not the scars they had left, but the love they didn't give, and the actions they took. "You're so beautiful..." he mumbled against your skin. "Chishiya, if you're trying to get me to sleep with you, it's not going to work. If that's all you want then leave," you whispered back. "But I don't want that... Well, I do, but it's not all I want. I want to be with you," he said. You turned over to look at him. "You're serious about this?" You asked. He nodded. "Ok... I'll trust you. And I'll help you and Kuina with the plan," you answered. He smiled, and held you tightly. "Good. Only thing is, no one can know, ok? Just like before. My pretty little sercret," he whispered. You nodded, curling up into him, your face nuzzled into his chest. ((Y/N), you really switching up-) He knew you had bad nightmares about the past, and what the future could be. You had told him all about them. So, he knew you might wake up in the middle of the night.

You had woken up, looking around, finding your bed empty. The tears that had filled your eyes while you slept, had returned, rolling down your face. "I-i knew it... should've known better," you whimpered into the dark, quiet room. You let quiet cries excape your mouth as you held onto the blanket tightly. "(Y/N)?" You heard a voice asked tiredly. "C-chishiya?" You asked, drying your tears. "What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?" He questioned, getting back in the bed with you. You nodded. "You had... you had left me alone. Again. And no matter where you were, you would ignore me, and then I woke up, and you weren't here andb i-i th-," you tried to explain your dream before crying harder. The feeling of misery and cold you had felt because of the dream was still present. You had become invisible to the person whom you loved most. "I'm not leaving you now, or ever. Ok? Never leaving you alone again."

(The touch starved in me is screaming-)

Time skip

Chishiya had been extremely strict with no one knowing of the relationship. You two would just look like friends. But he most certainly didn't let you hug, hold, or give him affection in front of people. "If we hide it, it's better for us. No one knows. Like... a game of hide and seek. Except no one knows how to seek for us because of how well we hide." His words lingered on your mind. You had felt like a child when he explained it to you in that way. Of course, Kuina was the only person who knew of the relationship. You were tired of hiding.

"Chishiya... I'm tired of hiding," you muttered to him. "(Y/N), just a bit longer. And then you won't be in danger, alright?" He said back.

The plan had been put into motion the day Hatter died. You flinched when Niragi kicked Arisu, and grabbed onto Chishiya's sleeve. He shook you off, giving you a warning tap on your arm. You knew what that meant. 'Don't do that, too many people.' You flinched, hearing Usagi scream for Arisu, it all becoming to much like the memories you had. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore it. You had to work your way down from a panic attack, ignoring the noise, ignoring the scene.

"Chishiya, please can we talk?" You whispered to him as you guys walked back to your room. "Once we're in private," he whispered back. "Oi, Chishiya, where'd you think you're going?" Niragi's voice called from behind you two. "No where. Do you need something?" Chishiya asked. You whined, thinking you were being quiet, when really it was audible to both men. "Yeah, (Y/N). She can come with me for a while, don't you think?" Niragi smirked, watching Chishiya for any shift of emotion. "We were actually going to go talk about something important, so no," Chishiya answered back, leading you away.

Later that night is when chaos ensued. The ten of hearts game. Chishiya had taken both you and Kuina up to the surveillance room. You watched as countless people died. You heard their screams and gun shots, and flinched. You held onto Chishiya tightly, hoping you survived. Soon, Kuina left, going to help someone.

"Chishiya, what do we do?" You asked, watching as he looked through the drawers of the room. "We aren't doing anything. I am going out there, and I'm going to try and burn the witch. You stay put, and hide," he said, looking around. The words you had been hearing your whole life. 'Hide.' You had begun to hate it. "I don't want to hide, please I'm so tired of hiding! I've had to hide my whole life from everything! I even had to hide our relationship, please don't make me hide again!" You yelled at him. He stared at you, before picking you up, and setting you on the desk. "For once in your life, listen to me!" He yelled back, a fear in his tone that was almost undetectable. You flinched at his voice being so loud. "I-im sorry, I didn't mean it like that... Just, stay put. I'll be back for you after I take out the biggest threat to us, which is Niragi. I have a suspicion on who the witch is. I promise I'll be back," Chishiya said, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead. You looked down, before nodding. "But you better come back for me. I won't hide forever you know."

I'm sorry it's so short! And I'm sorry if he's OOC, we are learning ok-

[hypmic-writings]

Hi! I'm relatively new to your blog but I love what I see so far!! I was wondering if maybe I could request either headcanons, or a drabble (whichever you prefer to write!) Of Assassin!Jakurai after discovering his s/o's identity has been compromised? Maybe someone he's supposed to be assassinating found out he was hired to kill them, and they took his s/o to warn him to back off or to use as a bargaining chip? I hope this is specific enough! Thank you, and have a good day, loves!💗

Okay, I started writing this out as a scenario because I loved it so much, but I was barely halfway through and it was already at 2,500+ words so I’m just gonna do the main plot points in headcanons instead. I hope that’s okay! I’m obsessed with this AU though so I might end up finishing the writing and posting it separately. Maybe I’ll even make it multiple chapters! If I have time, that’s something I’d really love to do. Also, I accept this artwork as canon because it’s gorgeous and I can’t stop staring at it. Please view before reading - everyone needs young, short haired Jakurai in their lives~

TW: violence and killing

--

to say that your relationship with Jakurai was normal was incorrect

your boyfriend was an assassin, after all and that tends to make a relationship a bit different

he was soft-spoken, almost cold, but you had broken through that facade and given him warmth and comfort he had never known

you made him want to feel things

feel the emotions he had pushed so far down inside of himself that he wasn’t sure if they existed anymore

this was mainly why he hadn’t wanted to tell you of his profession initially

he was afraid of putting you in danger and the less you knew the better

but you were smart and it didn’t take a genius to know that Jakurai obviously didn’t work an office job

what kind of office job requires that many knives and calls you into work at 3am?

so you all but forced Jakurai to tell you the truth and to his surprise, your relationship didn’t change much

of course, you wanted him to teach you how to fight and throw knives, and be sneaky, but of all the changes that could have happened

Jakurai felt that he was happy

you knew you were happy

until the day he had always feared came to pass

“We know who you are. If you don’t back off, we’ll kill them.”

When Jakurai first got the call from the target, Mr. Yamamoto he had been scoping for the past few months, he was shocked

he didn’t show it of course though, because he always had trouble with his emotions

that was something you had been helping him with

the thought of you in the hands of a serial killer was too much for him though

and he heard the phone crack a bit as his grip on it tightened

immediately, he knew that there was a mole in his sector

there would simply be no other way the target would have made him like this

so the only person he confided in was one of his closest partners, another assassin named Yuki

with Yuki’s help, Jakurai began to put a plan into motion to get you out of captivity

he had been working this case for a long time, and although the target didn’t know, Jakurai was well-aware of their operation

he knew the location of Yamamoto’s hideout, he had just been waiting for the right time to bring them all down

and this was the most definitely the right time

making his way to the base, he recalled all of the information he knew about the guards

he knew exactly where they would be posted at exactly which time

he had done his work as diligently as humanly possible because there was no way he would slip up and fail to rescue you

he easily subdued the guards at the entrance, barely making a noise as he easily took them down

he moved further into the complex, waving at Yuki to snipe down the guards above him as he pulled out a knife

weaving in and out of the foot soldiers, he left them all lying on the ground behind him

his eyes were sharp and emotionless

he had to push away the emotions you had worked so hard to recover

if he gave into them, he knew he would fly into a fit of rage, making him become sloppy

and Jakurai was never sloppy

he continued to work his way through the guards, cutting them all down until he finally reached the central room - the one he was sure you were inside

Jakurai opened the door slowly and the first thing his eyes landed on was your figure, strapped to a chair, bound and gagged

beside you was Mr. Yamamoto, far too close for comfort, and surrounding him were four armed henchman 

upon seeing Jakurai entering the door, they all pointed their guns directly at him

Jakurai sighed, annoyed, and rushed the first, stabbing him directly in the heart without hesitation before pulling the second close to him

he used the man as a shield to block the other men’s bullets, tossing him to the side before throwing two knives at the two remaining men

finding his mark perfectly and embedding the knives deep into their necks 

“Not another step!” Mr. Yamamoto screamed, bringing out a gun and pointing it at your temple

you had a blindfold on, put you were still able to flinch away from the cold metal and groan softly

Jakurai turned to face the man and didn’t make a move

for a moment the two looked at each other in silence

“How the hell did you get in here? What did you do to my guards?” Yamamoto shouted, waving his gun in panic

Jakurai narrowed his eyes and frowned

“I took care of them.” he stated simply, beginning to walk towards the man

Yamamoto hurriedly pointed the gun back at you and yelled that if Jakurai took one more step, your head would be gone

Jakurai froze one more and narrowed his eyes, tapping gently on the device in his ear

“Yuki, do we need him alive for questioning?” he asked, emotionless, his eyes never leaving Yamamoto’s face

Yamamoto faltered and began shouting at Jakurai to shut the hell up and surrender already

“Nope,” Yuki stated into Jakurai’s ear, happily.

Jakurai uttered a thanks before whipping out a dagger at lightning speed and throwing it hard at the face of the man before him

you weren’t able to see, but you heard a squishing sound and felt a thud next to you

within moments, Jakurai was by your side, gently pulling off your restraints 

once he pulled off your blindfold you blinked a few times and gazed up at him with tears in you eyes

you quickly threw your arms around him and cried into his chest

Jakurai allowed you to do so and slowly brought his hands around you as well

trying to remember what you had said was normally done to comfort people in situations like these

“I was so scared” you cried to him, softly

“But I knew you were going to come save me” you added, a dry laugh coming through your tears

Jakurai gently ran a hand through your hair, holding you close before shaking his head

“I’m so sorry I ever let something like this happen. You don’t deserve this”

he would begin to feel things then, something like a pang in his stomach

was that guilt? it didn’t feel like what he remembered calling ‘anger’ or ‘sadness’ 

was this a combination of the two?

he didn’t think about it much longer, pulling you into his arms and beginning to walk out of the facility

he told you to close your eyes 

but you didn’t listen

you wanted to see every body of every man Jakurai had taken down

you weren’t sure why exactly, but you had to know

you had to know just what your boyfriend was capable of doing

as an assassin 

and as a person

once you made it outside of the complex you spotted the getaway van Yuki was waving to you from

“You should know something” Yuki said to you as you were lying down in the back of the van, your head leaning against the window

Jakurai was driving and Yuki was speaking in a low enough voice for him not to be able to hear

“Know what?” you asked narrowing your eyes as your heart picked up a bit

“The only target was Yamamoto. Taking out everyone else too? That was all Jakurai’s decision”

[toutallyahoe]

Essay Trouble ~ Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)

requested by: --

a/n: need more (top) male reader inserts and i bring you a straight one lol

been a while writing female x male reader as i tend to write more male x male reader but nevertheless, i will give my queens some loving <3

like, please... look at her, shes a queen <3

also, before anyone tries to point out some shit. no, i do not support J.K. Rowling. yes, i still like her HP and FBAWTFT series but God will be damned if i support her and the other TERFs. if you're a TERF, please block me and also fuck off

also, Hermoine is trans. Hermoine headcanon being trans is canon now. you CAN'T change my mind

Eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as Hermoine looked at her book. She had been reading the same sentence over and over but oddly enough, she didn't seem to understand. Hermione's head been clouding over other things than doing her homework which was already almost done with neatly written eighth inch of worded essay of how the infection of being warewolves had started.

She had already worked on it for the past two days but it seemed to tumbled her out. Not understanding the same sentence she had tried to be reading for around five minutes or so now made Hermoine let out an annoyed huff as she finally put it down.

The female looked around where she was. Book shelves lined up with many books about the history of magic to muggle studies books, neatly piled up which honestly made Hermoine quite happy to see. Some long tables where no one seemed to occupy except for the young Gryffindor, Hermoine and a-- Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. Squinting her eyes, she let out another annoyed huff.

'Is he sleeping here in the library?!?' Hermoine had thought as she was absolutely angered.

One student, male from his body stucture, and according to the blue on his robes, was a Ravenclaw, was asleep. It honestly baffled Hermoine to see a Ravenclaw-- a Ravenclaw of all things be sleeping in a library. A place of learning.

Pushing her seat back quietly, not to disturb anyone despite no one other than her, the sleeping Ravenclaw, and madam Pince who was at her little side of the library stamping books that have been returned and minding her own were in the library. Not like a certain Gryffindor girl who stood up from her seat and was approaching the sleeping Ravenclaw boy who was two tables away from her.

As she had approached the sleeping student, Hermoine noticed the scatter of quills and opened ink bottles. Some parchment that some have written works or crumpled pieces, and also some books stacked together on the right side of the asleep student's head. Three opened book in front of him and if Hermoine had to guess those books correctly, those were all Muggle studies text book of the sixth year. Making the young man either a year older than her or he was just reading advance books. Hermoine thought the former was more possible though as she had sneaked a peak on what the sleeping male was writing.

Hermoine was standing beside the student's sleeping form. From what Hermoine can see was only the ruffled and untidy [Hair color] locks of the sleeping student along with some patch of [Skin color] skin that weren't hidden from his robes. His face hidden from his arms that he prompted on the surface of the table. Covering some parts of the essay he was writing about World War one.

Hermoine, curious on what the sleeping male had written about her muggle looked at it. It was a very immoral thing to do, looking at others work and without their permission (in Hermione's beliefs that is) but her curiosity took over her. Hesitantly, Hermoine had took the parchment that was underneath the sleeping Ravenclaw.

A soft sigh left Hermione's lips when she had succesfully taken out the parchment with out disturbing the sleeping male. Her eyes looked at the asleep student then to the parchment in her hand. Hermoine started to read.

To say the least, Hermoine was quite pleased to have seen the Ravenclaw's essay was very accurate to what she had also read and what her parents had told her about. If Hermoine had to estimate, the essay was already around thirteenth inch long and she could tell the sleeping student was still not done with how the end of the sentence seemed to make way for more information.

Hermoine looked at the table and saw another parchment that was full of written words and she assumed that ut was probably the first page of the essay as the one she was holding started halfway of the war already. Describing each country's strategize and weapons used and all those what knot that made Hermoine approve on how much information the sleeping student had researched on.

Hermoine looked at the asleep male then at the parchment on the table as her hand then slowly approached to the table surface to take the writtened parchment away. As she had touched the parchment, a sudden scream left her lips but immediately shut it up when she remembered she was in the library and didn't want madam Pince to kick her out for disrupting the peace.

The cause of her reaction was the hand holding her wrist. Hermoine's eyes widened in fear when she saw and felt her wrist were grabbed.

"What... are you doing," a voice spoke to her. Hermoine turned to look only to be quite relieved that the hand belongs to the Ravenclaw who was now awake. Not fully awake as he lifted his head up from his arms, his eyes were half-lidded. Showing how he was still not one with the real world as he was dozing off to Morpheus' embrace.

Hermoine had to admit, the male had a lovely shade of [Eye color] eyes to compliment his hair and skin.

"What does... a Gryffindor want with my papers?" [Name] had asked. Yawning in between his sentence as his half-lidded eyes filled with drowsiness turned into a sharp glare that made Hermoine gulp. The hold on her wrist tighten as she saw the Ravenclaw held his head up. And seeing the frown on his lips and that small taint of anger on his [Eye color] eyes made Hermoine rethink on her decisions to be nosy.

"I am terribly sorry!" Hermoine squeaked out. "I was just curious on what you were writing!" She softly cried as the male looked at her in the eye.

A second passed in silence and the stare down made Hermoine's nerves tighen in a knot. It felt like hours when un real time was only around twenty-two seconds before [Name] had let go of her wrist.

"You could've woken me up instead of reading with out my permission," [Name] grunted as he swiped off the parchment on Hermione's hand and placed it on the table. Turning away from Hermoine who stood mouth agape as he then ignored her and picked up a quill and started writing on the parchment where was still left unfinished. Dipping his quill on an opened ink bottle before he did so to write.

Hermoine stood there with mind boggled. In hand, she was absolutely furious on how the male was just plain rude to her. But on the other hand, she guess it was justified when how she just took his parchment without his permission.

'Well, he didn't have to be rude about it!' Hermoine had angrily thought but had let out a squeak when she saw the Ravenclaw student turned his head to look at her. Raising a brow as to silently question on what she was doing, standing there. Unmoving.

"Are you going stand there like a petrified victim of a Basilisk?" [Name] had asked which made Hermoine enrage at his words. It made her remember of her sceond year in Hogwarts. The time where the Chamber of Secrets were opened and she was a victim of patrification. Luckily, Harry Potter had conquered the horrid beast and put a close to the chamber. Glaring at the male, she turned around to go.

"You have don't have to be a rude prat on telling me to go," Hermoine muttered underneath her breathe.

"And who said I wanted you to go?" [Name] asked.

Hermoine froze.

'What...?' Hermoine had thought as she turned her head to look at the Ravenclaw only to see him back on looking at his parchment and scribbling his quill onto it.

"I'm sorry?" Hermoine softly said. Confusion in her tone.

[Name] didn't even bat an eye to her as he continued to write on his essay. He merely blunt out his amswer, uncaringly. "I have seen you prompted up on that table, two tables away from here, for days now and you always had that look of suffering," he had said.

Hermoine was baffled. Mouth agape as she looked at the nonchalant male scribbling away.

"Excuse me?" Hermoine had asked. Rather both angered and confused.

"What I mean is, I could help whatever is ailing you," [Name] had said as he rolled his eyes. Siding a quick look at the Gryffindor female standing aghast.

"You are having trouble, are you not?" He asked. Tilting his head to the side as he sent Hermoine a look of confusion.

"I... um..." Muttered Hermoine as her feeling of angered slowly diminished when she realized the male was actually offering her help. She was quiet shy though as she always was the "smart" one in her little group of friend (which consisted of the boy who lived and a bloodtraitor). So, a person willing to give her help rather taunting her of her heritage (Malfoy and his goons) or just be brushed off (most of her year level classmates), it made her feel happy.

"A... a bit..." Hermoine had said. A warmth feeling was rushing on the Gryffindor female as the Ravenclaw nodded at her.

"Alright," he had stated as he went back to writing.

Hermoine stood awkwardly in place as she thought that maybe the Ravenclaw student either forgotten about her existence despite him resonding seconds ago or maybe he was just joking about the offer of help. She was about to ask about it when the Ravenclaw male had looked at her. Sending an annoyed look at her direction.

"Well?" He asked annoyed. "Are you going to get your things over so I could help or should I cast Accio to get it?"

Hermoine looked at him baffled. He was rude but he was also willing to help her ot with her essay. So, she nodded her head and immediately went to go and fetch her things. As Hermoine turned her back away from him, a soft smile made it's way onto [Name]'s lips.

"Hermoine Granger... nice to officially meet you..." [Name] softly muttered as he went back to looking at his essay and began to write again. Smile lingering for a second until it was gone. Like it wasn't there in the first place.

Hermoine came back to where the rude Ravenclaw student with a huff. Puffing her cheeks for a seconds until she shakes her head and sighed. 'Common Hermoine, he can't be that bad if he offered you help!' She had thought. Trying to think positively to not be angered or annoyed with the male student who had sent her a quick gaze then look backed to her parchment which she noticed was almost done. [Name] gestured to the seat next to him with his other hand and Hermoine hesitantly went to it.

Gently putting her things down onto the table, Hermoine took the chair underneath the tabke then sat at it. Scooching a bit away to keep distance to the male student who she realized had not asked his name yet.

And as if he was reading her mind, he had just said out of a blue.

"[Name]," he had said. The Gryffindor blinked.

"What?" Hermoine had asked, confused. [Name] in return rolled his eyes.

"That's my name," [Name] said in a bored tone.

"Oh! Um... my names--" Hermoine started but was rudely cut off by the male. "Give me your essay."

Enrage, Hermoine took her parchment where it had contained her essay and shoved it onto [Name]'s outstretched hand hard. Hermoine saw that [Name] didn't seemed to be bothered by what she had done which made her honestly angry a bit.

[Name] scanned at her essay as he then put it in front her on the table.

"Your essay is going well," he said which made Hermoine feel proud of herself. Angery slowly diminishing away. "But its sloppy," [Name] bluntly said.

Anger was back as Hermoine glared at him when she had snapped out of her momentary shock. "P... pardon?" She asked.

"You didn't start off on the history of warewolves. You did not specify why there are those kinds of beings and why they itch to bite," [Name] had said as he looked at Hermoine in the eye. Each word made Hermione's blood boil. It was the first time someone had said those to her. Calling her work sloppy as she was used to have people praise her academics brilliantly.

"And you certainly did not have any conclusion on why they shapeshift back to human when they can stay as horrid beast."

The last comment made Hermoine burst. It was not the comment on her work. Yes, it was a factor but what made her fully burst in rage was that [Name] had called werewolves as 'horrid beast'. Hermoine remembered Remus Lupin, or rather, professor Lupin, her DADA professor on her third year in Hogwarts that was a werewolf.

Hermoine remembered how kind and sweet professor Lupin was despite being a warewolf and she did not condone anyone talking badly at warewolves because of her experience of a very kind one of their kind.

"Escuse me? 'Horrid beast'?!?" Hermoine had said. Her tone was close to shouting but she tried to calm herself down. That did not stop the angered glare she sent to the Ravenclaw who looked at her. There was surprised plastered in his face for a second before it was wiped out with boredom replacing it.

"Yes," [Name] said. Not paying mind the glare that Hermoine was sending him. "Horrid beast... anyone can be a horrid beast... with or without being a warwolf," he had said. Hermoine was about to counter when she realized what he had said.

"What? An... anyone?" Hermoine had dumbly asked. [Name] didn't say anything as he looked at the parchment he had placed in front Hermoine then looked at his.

"Correct you chronological order of the warewolves history then go to the bite and its cause," [Name] had said. Dropping the subject as he went back to writing at his essay. [Name] would occasionally look at the text book opened in front of him then going back to writing.

Hermoine sat dumbly there for a second or so. When she realized that the Ravenclaw would not answer her, she decided to rewrite her essay like what [Name] had said to her.

On other times, Hermoine would poke and poke until she knew what he was meaning to say but the Gryffindor female saw that the subject was a very fragile one. There was something forbidden about it like the that Philosopher Stone business in her first year. But this time, she did not try her luck and ask for more content on it.

Hermoine did as told. She started writing the history if warewolves. Who was the first one to be a werewolf, how and why. The cause of being bitten and evrything that [Name] had said to her awhile ago.

The two sat in a comfortable silence where the onky spund were the scratching of quills, papers shuffled and some occasional mutter from either Hermoine or [Name].

About an hour or two, Hermoine finished her essay on the history of warewolves and the infection is caused when bitten. On that time being in the middle fo writing, she would occasionally be assisted by [Name]. Him pointing out some small mistakes that she had corrected and would also give her basic background. Hermoine grew less tense and annoyed at the Ravenclaw on those few hours of writing.

[Name] was blunt and rude. Hermoine had to say that. But [Name] also seemed to be dedicated to his studies, the proof was the four pages essay of the world war one which had fifteenth inch of well written words delicately scribbled on the parchment. And he was still writing another page to back up the strategies he had concluded the old generals has used.

He was also a perfectionist but it seemed to be a great asset to him and her as when Hermoine looked at her essay that she was having trouble hours ago was writing well. Well organised with well written facts and background and it made Hermoine very happy and thankful.

As Hermoine admired her well written and finished essay, [Name] had sent her a quick glance. Having to stop his scribbling on another fifteenth inch essay as he looked at the window a few tables away from where he and Hermoine was sitting at. Seeing the orange and pink hue of the sky made him conclude that it was already late.

[Name] had sneaked his hand onto underneath his robes to go to his uniform's pants' pocket. Grabbing an old and yet still well looking, silver pocket watch. Looking at the time, a grimmed look appeared on his face for a quick moment before it was replaced with utter disappointment. A tired left his lips as he put his quill down.

"It's late," [Name] had said as he pocketed his silver pocket watch back to his pants' pocket and pushed himself back. He then stood up from his seat and began to put away his things.

"Huh?" Hermoine had squeaked out. Finally out from admiring her essay and had turned to look at [Name] who was putting away his quills and unused parchments.

"It's late," [Name] didn't even turned to look at Hermoine when he said that.

"Oh," Hermoine had softly said as she furrowed her eyebrows. Still looking at the Ravenclaw packing up his stuff. Hermoine was rather saddened. Despite this Ravenclaw male was rather rude to her, she had to admit that he had interest her. And not to mention that he was very nice to offer help despite being a bit of a prat when saying he is willing to give assistance.

"Well... um..." Hermoine mumbles incoherently as she looked at her essay then back to the Ravenclaw male who had finally finished packing his stuff and was neatly piled on the table.

"I... um..." [Name] turned and raised a brow at the mumbling female beside him.

"Are you going to act like a newly obliviated muggle," [Name] had bluntly stated as he turned and began to take his stuff on his hand. Not before he had took out his wand, wave over it and muttered a soft, "locomotor!" which made the books he wasn't carrying on his hand float a bit.

"Or are you going to spit whatever you want to say out?" He had said as he turned to look at Hermoine in the eye.

Enraged a bit. Hermoine said what had first came to her mind.

"I... honestly you're quite rude," snapped Hermoine. She suddenly cupped her hands onto her mouth as her eyes widen. She realized what she had just said.

"I-- oh my! I did not-- I mean! I was--" Hermoine fumbled with her words as she stood up. Her chair screeching but she did not care for she was in too much shock and horror for her to form an apology or some sense.

Hermoine was absolutely scared out of her wits until she heard laughter. Looking at [Name], her eyes widen a bit more if possible as she saw the stuck up, rude Ravenclaw laughing at her. A soft smile on his lips as he finished his laughter looked at her form.

"Tell me something I don't know, alright?" [Name] had said. Amusement twinkling on his [Eye color eyes that Hermoine immediately noticed. It was, after all, the same eyes that had glared her the first time and the same eyes who always held some form of drowsiness despite the male had been awake as he wrote his essay. Those eyes that Hermoine had to admit was quite beautiful.

"I... erm..." Hermoine mumbled as [Name] sent her one last glance as he turned and began to walk away. The stuff he wasn't carrying but placed a spell was following close behind him. Leaving Hermoine fumbling and tumbling on her own thoughts as he left.

"Wait!" Cried Hermoine.

[Name] stopped as he turned his head to look at Hermoine. Raising a brow.

"My name's Hermoine!" She said as she saw [Name] nodded.

"I... um... would... I would like to... to do this another time... if you don't mind," Hermoine softly said.

[Name] looked at her for a second as he then turned back as he walked away. Hermione's figure sulked as she frowned. She actually wanted to meet this Ravenclaw boy again. He was rude yet nice in his own way. Hermoine thought that maybe she had made a other friend.

"I'm always here at tuesdays and fridays. I tend to go to the lake outside to read aswell on weekends," Hermoine heard [Name] same. Perking her head up as she looked at the retreating form of the Ravenclaw.

"I... uh... okay!" Hermoine had said as she smiled. Excitement in her cire as she realized that tomorrow was a saturday. Meaning, she could meet [Name] on the lake.

Hermoine turned herself around and began packing her things. There was a giddy in each step she took as she walked around the halls to go back to Gryffindor's room. In her mind, she took note to bring her favorite muggle book she had brought here in Hogwarts and hopefully get to talk about it to the rude Ravenclaw she had acquainted on on the library who seemed to enjoy muggle studies.

Hermoine was rather glad to having trouble with her essay. Because maybe, just maybe, she could finally have another friend.

[writerfae]

@thegirlwithnonickname here are chapter two and three of Always by your side!

I still remember how I wrote chapter three... sitting in my bed listening to "Grow Old With Me" by Michael Schulte on repeat and crying xD I can really recommend that song, it fits the story and especially chapter three very well!

.

Chapter 2

Tyler lay down and took his phone from the bedside table. He dialed Lucas number. Even though it was already pretty late he answered immediately. As usual.

'Hey.'

Tyler closed his eyes. 'Hello Lucas.'

For a moment there was silence. But than Lucas started to talk again.

'They're fighting again, am I right?'

Tyler nodded. He could hear them downstairs.

'Yes', he whispered. Lucas sighed.

'What's the reason this time?'

Tyler clutched to his phone.

'I don't think they need a reason anymore. Especially dad.'

'Damn. Do you want me to come over?'

Tyler shook his head.

'Don't be silly, it's the middle of the night.'

"So what? I can sneak out.'

Tyler wouldn't doubt that. It wouldn't be the first time.

'You don't have to come over.'

'Sure?'

'Yes.'

'Okay, when you think so... Hey, have you heard...'

He started talking about some story he heard in school or on the internet or somewhere else.

He didn't care if the story was true or not. He was just talking.

And Tyler didn't care either, as long as he heard Lucas voice.

It was calm and familiar. That always calmed Tyler down.

After some time Lucas stopped and asked: 'Is everything alright now?'

Tyler took a deep breath. "Yeah everything's alright.'

'Good. Good night Ty.'

'Good night Lucas.'

That's how it went everytime. When Tyler's parents were fighting late at night Tyler called Lucas. Then they talked until Tyler could forget about his fighting parents.

No matter to what hour, Lucas was always there. Tyler would often flee to Lucas and his family when the situation at home was too much for him to take.

And especially when he was a young boy his mom used to send him over to Lucas home when she knew that her husband would start a fight again. She didn't wanted her son to see that. And she knew that Tyler was in good hands when he was with Lucas family.

He was always welcomed there.

~~~

As Tyler walked down the stairs he could hear his mother talking to someone. His father was at work, so that probably meant she had a guest.

Tyler hesitated. He didn't really feel like having company right now.

But suddenly he recognized the second voice - it was Lucas mother.

Tyler walked down a few steps so he could hear the two women talking.

He sat down at one of the stairs so they wouldn't see him and started to listen.

'... really strong, you and your husband.'

'We... we try our best. It's hard. But we try.'

Lucas mom sounded like she had cried. It reminded Tyler of her call on the day Lucas had died.

Just thinking about that made him wanna go back to his room.

'Say, how is Tyler doing?'

Tyler froze as he heard his name.

'He's not feeling good. The boy hasn't really left his room since Lucas funeral. Sometimes I hear him cry, late at night... It's really hard for him.'

'The poor boy. It would've break Lucas heart. Tyler was his best friend.'

'And Lucas was Tyler's best friend.'

Tyler stood up and walked down the rest of the steps.

'And he'll always be my best friend', he said.

The two women looked at him in surprise.

'Tyler', they both said.

Lucas mom stood up, walked towards him and hugged him.

"It's nice to see you Tyler.' She smiled. It was a sad smile.

'Sit down darling', his mother said.

Tyler took a seat and Lucas mom sat down as well.

Tyler's mother brought them a cup of tea.

'I'll leave you alone.' Then she left the room.

Lucas mother took a sip of her coffee. Then she looked at Tyler.

'I'm here because I wanted to thank you. For your speech. I didn't had the chance to do it at the... at Lucas funeral.'

Tyler could remember his speech. He had to stop halfways because he started to cry. In front of the whole community.

'Lucas deserved a way better speech.'

'Don't say that Tyler. It was beautiful. Lucas would've liked it.'

Tyler wasn't sure about that.

'I should've finished it.'

He was still angry about it. Lucas would've ended the speech. He was strong. Tyler wasn't.

Lucas mother shook her head. 'What's important is what you said, not whether you finished it or not. It was really important for us. That's why I want to thank you.'

'You don't have to. He was my best friend. It was the least I could do.'

Lucas mom smiled. 'Yeah... My little boy... he always wanted siblings, did you know that? He used to ask me when he'll finally get a little brother.'

The memory made her laugh. It sounded a bit like Lucas laugh. Tyler missed it...

'He always wanted someone he could play with. Someone he could protect. He never stopped to ask me. That's it, until he met you. Since he befriended you he never asked again. I think... he had you and that was all he needed.'

She took Tyler's hand. 'He really loved you. You were like a brother to him. You know, I'm really glad that you and Lucas found each other.'

'I am glad too. Really. I...' He stopped.

There was so much he wanted to tell her. He wanted to say how important Lucas was to him. How thankful Tyler was for everything he had done for him. That he changed his life. That he showed him what friendship meant. And he wanted to tell her how much he missed Lucas.

But as Tyler looked at Lucas mom he suddenly realized there's no need to say all this out loud. She knew.

She let go of his hand and stood up.

'I have to go now. My husband is waiting for me. Thanks for your time.'

She smiled at Tyler's mom, who just came back into the room.

'I'll bring you to the door', his mom said.

'Okay. Goodbye Tyler.'

Tyler stood up and said goodbye as well.

'Wait, I almost forgot. There's something I wanted to give you.'

She searched her purse for a small object and gave it to him. As he looked at it he knew what it was. He couldn't believe his eyes.

'That's... that's...'

'Lucas bracelet.' Lucas mother nodded.

'I can't accept this...'

The little item in his hand was really the leathern bracelet Lucas used to wear. He already owned it when Tyler met him. Lucas loved the bracelet.

It was a gift from his late grandfather. It was something special to him. And a huge keepsake.

'Yes, you can. Lucas would've wanted you to have it. I know you'll take good care of it.'

She closed his hand around the bracelet and hugged him again. Then she left.

Tyler stood alone in the kitchen. He opened his hand and looked at the bracelet.

It felt like a piece of Lucas came back to him.

And he swore he would never let it go.

.

Chapter 3

'Come on, Tyler. Get out of there', his mom called.

But ten years old Tyler refused to leave his hideout. He was lying in his bed, the blanket raised over his head. He knew it was childish. He didn't care.

'I don't want to.'

Today was the first day at the new school and Tyler didn't want to go. He was scared. Because a new school meant new people and a lot of changes. He hated changes.

'But you have to. Otherwise you'll be late for school.'

Tyler ignored his mom's words. But suddenly a second voice caught his attention.

'Yeah she's right! We'll be late!'

Tyler recognized it immediately.

'Lucas?'

The other boy made his way to Tyler's bed and lifted the blanket a bit to get a look at his friend.

'Yeah it's me. I've been waiting for you, buddy. It's our big day today! Why are you hiding?'

No answer. Lucas sighed.

'Let me guess. It's about school isn't it? I promise you, it will be fun! You don't need to worry.'

'But... I am worried, Lucas. All the new teachers and classmates...'

Lucas was an optimist. Where Tyler only thought about the negative things, Lucas saw what was good. And he tried to let Tyler see it too.

'... won't harm you. Come on Ty, we can't stay in elementary school forever. Sure, there are new people. Some things may change, but that's not a bad thing. Just think about all the new things we'll learn!'

That was one of the reasons Tyler was glad to have him as a friend.

'Besides, you're not alone there! We're in the same class, remember? I'm with you. That won't change. We'll get through it together. We're partners, right?'

Tyler peered from under his blanket to look at Lucas, who was smiling at him. And he returned the smile, because he knew that Lucas was right after all.

No matter what might happen. No matter what might change. He wasn't alone. His friend was there. They were a team.

'Then let's go, partner!' Tyler, now a little less scared, finally got out of his hideout.

'That's what I wanted to hear.', Lucas said.

Tyler's mom once said that one of the most beautiful things about Lucas and Tyler's friendship was how they were always there for each other and how they complemented the other perfectly.

Lucas had enough joy living inside of him to lift Tyler up when he was feeling down and Tyler's steady personality calmed Lucas down when he overextended himself.

~~~

As Tyler went into the school building, he almost felt like back when he had his first day at this school. Everything seemed strange and exclusive. The many students, the colorless walls and the noise.

But this time he was alone. Lucas wasn't there to make him feel safe.

Tyler had begged his parents to let him stay at home for another few days. But they said no, so he had to go.

He felt completely overstrained. He spent the last few days alone without talking to someone besides his parents and Lucas mom.

Now that he was surrounded by people again, he was lost.

It wasn't just that he was alone, everyone was starring at him too. Everyone knew about Lucas. And everyone knew that Tyler was his best friend.

So everyone was looking at the guy who just lost his only real friend.

It must've been a strange sight. Tyler had the hood of his hoddie pulled down low to cover up his insomnia and grief marked face and to block everyone out.

But the strangest thing was to see him without Lucas.

Even in school there had always been Lucas and Tyler, Tyler and Lucas. Everyone knew that. The people were used to see the two of them together all the time.

Tyler without Lucas however... That wasn't normal.

And for Tyler it was a nightmare.

He struggled to get through the lessons. He never said a word. All he did was sitting in his classes, lost in thought, playing with Lucas bracelet around his wrist and starring at the blackboard. He couldn't recognize a single word that was said during the lessons.

He couldn't focus. Tyler just wanted to escape.

He could do without the trivial lessons and the pitiful glances of teachers and students.

~~~

'Tyler! Hey! Wait! Tyler!'

Tyler kept walking. All he wanted to do is survive the break and the lessons afterwards so he can go home again. Was it that much to ask for?

'Come on, wait! Hey!'

Someone grabbed his arm. Tyler stopped and turned around. It was Maya.

'What do you want?'

Maya was one of the people Lucas and Tyler spent their breaks with.

It was a small group of people that started to gather around the two boys in the past few years.

Slightly shocked by the rough sound of Tyler's voice Maya let go of his arm.

'I-I just wanted to ask you where you're going. Surely our friends are already waiting. We normally meet every break, remember?'

Actually Maya and the others were Lucas friends, not his. Because everyone loved Lucas. And they accepted Tyler, but he was never a real part of their group. Or at least it never felt like it. He never felt really close to any of them.

'Well, go and meet your friends then. I prefer being alone.'

'But why don't you wanna come with us? I'm sure it would be good for you to have some company. Lucas would've wanted...'

'Don't you tell me what Lucas would have wanted!', Tyler cut her off.

Maya flinched.

'Tyler...'

But Tyler wasn't listening.

'No! I can't sit there with you as if everything is alright. Because it's not! Maybe you can do it, laughing and talking like you always do. But I can't. Not when Lucas is gone and you all are acting as if everything is like it used to be. Nothing is like it used to be anymore."

Tyler didn't noticed that he overacted. He was just full of anger and frustration. It was all too much for him. And he wasn't able to control himself, not yet.

'That's not true Tyler, and you know it! Of course nothing is like it used to be. Lucas is dead and that's horrible! And we all miss him so much. You might not think that, but we do! Just because we still meet up doesn't mean we forgot about him or that he wasn't important to us. In contrary! Because he was. And he'll always be. But life has to go on Tyler. Please, I just mean well.'

Maya sighed.

'Listen, I know you two were pretty close to each other. You knew him longer than any of us. And I know how you feel. But what you just said about us isn't fair.'

'Leave me alone!', Tyler shouted. 'You know nothing!'

'He was my friend too. Our friend. You're not the only one who lost him.'

'Not the only one, huh? Not the only one! But he was my only friend, understand? The only one I ever had. My best friend! For nine years! Nine damn years.

You haven't spent nearly every day with him since you were eight years old. He never visited you as you broke your leg because you fell from a tree while climbing or tried to comfort you because your parents were fighting again.

He was always there. And now he's gone and I'm alone! I'm alone...'

His last words were just a whisper. Tyler felt how tears started streaming down his face. He couldn't tell if it was because of anger or grief or both. All he knew was that he had to leave. Leave this horrible school.

So he wiped of his tears, turned around and ran.

Away from the school building, past hundreds of students. No one stopped him. Maya stayed behind. Speechless.

~~~

'Lucas?'

'Yeah?'

'We'll always be friends, won't we?'

'Of course!'

'No matter what's gonna happen?'

'No matter what's gonna happen.'

'Even when we're adults?'

'Even when we're old and grey. You and I. Till the end.'

'Promise?'

'Promise!'

~~~

The last time Tyler visited Lucas and his spot was on the day Lucas died. He never dared to visit it afterwards. Until now.

After he ran away from school he got back to this place. He and Lucas used to be there a lot.

Tyler didn't knew where else to go. He couldn't go back to school. Or home.

This was the only place he could be alone. No one would notice his breakdown. Or hear his screams.

'You promised! You hear me? Promised! You said... you said you and I... we... you said...'

Tyler thought they had a lot of time left. Their whole lives. After all they would always be friends. They would always be there for each other. No matter what. That's what they promised each other.

But fate didn’t seem to care about little boys’ promises.

'Why? Why you of all peolpe?'

Tyler sat down on the floor, his back against a large rock.

Slowly his anger turned back into the familiar feeling of grief and despair.

Suddenly he just felt... exhausted. So he closed his eyes for a while.

As he was sitting there, eyes closed, he had the sudden feeling that he wasn't alone.

But that was impossible. No one ever came here. Still, it felt like someone... or something was with him.

So he opened his eyes and what he saw shocked him. There was indeed someone. Right in front of him. And he watched him with concern.

Tyler recognized his face immediately. This face - He would know it in death.

But... that wasn't possible.

'Lucas?'

[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter Four- Part Three

   When Phina had gotten home from Steve's house, it was 10 o'clock. And her mother had been waiting for her.

   As soon as the door to the garage had closed behind her, Karen's voice rang out, "where have you been?"

   On the way home, Phina had thought of the perfect lie, and she didn't even look at her mother to deliver it, "Lisle's. We have a chemistry project due tomorrow and we lost track of time."

   "No you weren't," Karen snapped, "I called Lisle, she doesn't even have chemistry this semester. How many times have you used that lie, ten, fifteen? Well I'm done letting it slide, where we're you?"

   "Nowhere important," she replied.

   "Look at me Seraphina," Karen snapped again, "do I look like I'm in the mood for this?"

   Phina's head snapped towards her mothers, "and do I look to be in the mood for this!"

   Karen instantly saw the redness to her daughters eyes, the puffiness. Her daughter had been crying, a lot. Karen was in shock, Phina hardly ever cried, ever. The last time she did, was when they thought Will Byers had died.

   "Phina? What happened, are you hurt?" Karen's anger had dissipated as she hurried over to check her daughter for injuries. "Did you crash your bike? What.."

   "I'm fine mom!" Phina pushes her mothers hands off her. "I just want to go to bed."

   The tone of her voice told Karen that she wouldn't get any answers from Phina tonight, but she knew her daughter well, when she was ready, she would.

   "Ok sweety," Karen sighed, "please come get me as soon as you're ready to talk."

   Phina gave her mom a halfhearted smile as she made her way to the stairs. The weight of the day pressed down on her, so heavy that she almost crumbled beneath the pressure. She almost didn't make it to her door.

   Phina pushed open the door and stopped. Like her mother had been waiting for her down stairs, Mike was waiting for her on her bed.

   "Where have you been," he asks, sounding exactly like their mother.

   "What are you doing up? You should be in bed, you have school tomorrow," she says.

   "So do you," he fires back, "you ran away earlier."

   "Yes."

   He gives her a look, "why? Where did you go?"

   Phina sighs, this is a conversation she wanted to avoid more than the one with her mother. She takes off her shoes and her jacket, taking her sweet time before she has to answer. Mike moves over so she can sit down next to him, turning her body to face him. They watch each other in silence, both of them waiting for the other to speak.

   "I was scared," she finally whispers.

   The look Mike gives her is one of confusion, "why?"

   And the one she gives him is sad, "because I saw the way you all looked at me. Because I looked in each one of your eyes and saw fear, of me. Because I saw what I did. I could have hurt you Mike, I could have hurt all of you. I don't know if I could live with myself if I had."

   Mike's shook his head, "you would never hurt me."

   "Not on purpose," Phina argues, "never on purpose. I lost control Mike. Everyday I find my powers becoming more and more unchecked, and I'm terrified."

   "Stop it," Mike chides her, "if you're scared of yourself, how are you supposed to learn to control it. You can't push it away, that'll just make it worse."

   Phina let her head fall, "what if I can't control it?"

   "You will," Mike argues, "because you are my sister and you never give up, ever. You are the most strong willed person I have ever met and you'll find a way, I know it."

   Phina smiles, "glad to know someone believes in me."

   He smiles back, "of course I do. You're my superhero."

   "And you're mine."

-

   "Phina? Have you seen your brother..."

   Karen opened the door to find her two kids fast asleep. Mike was cuddled into Phina's side, her arms wrapped around him. They had fallen asleep last night before either could think of getting Mike to his own room.

   Karen smiled at the two, who looked peaceful in sleep. She walked over to the bed and gently started to shake Phina awake.

   "Time to get up hun," she said warmly.

   Phina's eyes slowly blinked open, taking in the blurry image of her mother, "hmmm."

   "Good morning," Karen chuckled.

   "Mornin'," Phina mumbled, poking her brother's side.

   He grumbled something inaudibly and turned over to the other side of the bed, out of Phina's arms.

   "If I have to wake up, so do you," Phina chuckles.

   "Not necessarily," Mike mumbled.

   Karen smiled at the two of them, "well breakfast is almost ready."

   Mike turned his head slightly, "breakfast?"

-

   "Do you like those grapes Holly," Mike asks.

   Phina and Mike had both gotten ready quickly after their mom had mentioned breakfast. Phina hadn't eaten since yesterday at lunch, so she was starving, and toast with strawberry jam never sounded better.

   Phina was making her toast now, probably a bit more than necessary but, whatever.

   "Hey mom," Nancy said as she stood up, "I was thinking about staying the night at Stacy's tonight? We were gonna have a girls night."

   Nancy came up behind Phina and stole a piece of toast from her.

   "Hey!"

   "Romantic comedies, do our nails, gossip," Nancy carried on with a little smirk at Phina.

   "Make your own Nance," Phina grumbled halfheartedly.

   "Sure! That sounds fun," Karen said, ignoring Phina.

   Nancy sat down in her spot next to Holly, "toast?"

   Phina whirled around, she was giving Holly the toast she stole from Phina, "really?"

   "You made four pieces of toast," Nancy laughs, "you'll live."

   "You don't know that," Phina jokes, "I could die."

   "Sure."

-

   To say Steve Harrington wasn't focused today was an understatement. He'd been known to the school as King Steve, star basketball player, a womanizer. Well, things changed. And the jean everything wearing, mullet having Billy Hargrove was here to ruin his reputation.

   Steve could vaguely hear the coach yelling but, he wasn't focused on that. He was focused on Hargrove, who had been making a fool out of Steve's team.

   Billy laughs as he gets the ball, again, "all right! All right, all right! King Steve! King Steve everyone, I like it, playing tough today."

   Steve was getting annoyed very quickly, "Jesus! Do you ever stop talking man? Come on!"

   Billy lazily dribbles with one hand, laughing again, "what? You afraid the coach is gonna bench ya now that I'm here? Huh?"

   He suddenly moves forward quickly, not giving Steve any time to prepare. Billy shoulder checks Steve as he runs past him to score. Steve grunts and falls backwards, definitely not the first time he'd been knocked down today.

   A hand reached down in front of him, Billy's. Steve warily grabs it, bad idea. Billy pulls Steve halfway up to him.

   "You were moving your feet," he says, "plant them next time, draw a charge."

   Billy pushes Steve back down roughly, walking over him to get back into the game. Steve couldn't tell if the advice was somewhat friendly, or threatening.

-

   Steve let the lukewarm water run over his face, trying to somewhat come off the adrenaline from the game.

   "Don't sweat it Harrington," Billy said from his right.

   Steve's annoyance shot through the roof just at his voice. The prick had been showing him up in every way since he got here.

   "Today's just not your day man," he continued.

    "Yeah. Not your week," Tommy butts in, "you and the princess break up for one day, she's already running off with the freaks brother."

Steve gave Tommy an annoyed look.

"Oh shit, you don't know," Tommy chuckles, "Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven't shown. But that must just be a coincidence, right?"

Tommy smirks, "I'm mean, you don't seem to be to beaten up about it, considering Carol saw the Freak of Hawkins leaving your house last night. Switching Wheelers, huh? Classy."

Tommy laughs loudly, annoyingly, as he leaves the showers. Steve glares at him as he goes, starting to shampoo his hair

"Don't take it to hard man," Billy interjects, "a pretty boy like you gots nothing to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea."

Billy slowly turns off Steve's shower, "am I right?"

He claps Steve on the shoulder, turning to leave the showers as well, "that Phina chick? That's a real nice catch right there, sad I didn't make it first."

Steve's anger flares at the comment. He harshly turns the water back on, his hand stingy when it makes contact with the metal nob.

-

Phina walked briskly to her bike after school, wanting to escape the place as quickly as she possibly could. All day she had been hearing little comments about her. She was used to this type of stuff, and had dealt with no shortage of rumors in the past, but this, this was different. People had been making comments about her, and Steve. Someone must have seen her at his house last night, and assumed the worst.

She had also heard little comments about Jon and Nancy, who had not been at school at all today and has apparently skipped yesterday as well. Again, the worst had been assumed. This is why Phina hated this place, because everything you said or did was turned against you.

Phina got to her bike and was out of there in less than five seconds. She flew past people who stared and whispered to each other. The lies that spread between them like wildfire gripped at her, trying to bring her down. She drove to the only place that didn't have the pressure of judgement, where she was happy, the forests.

She went out far, parking her bike behind a few trees so any cars that passed wouldn't see it. Then, she went farther. Walking at least a mile into the trees. With her connection to the forest, she would never get lost, for the trees whispered directions to her.

The stress that plagued her lifted with each step farther.

That is, until she felt it. The sickness that infected the earth around her. It was like she had entered a quarantine zone, the sickness abruptly starting.

Phina turned her confused gaze to the trees, which were turning a strange gray color, some sort of weird liquid seeping from them. She took a step towards the nearest tree, her hand reached out to touch it. It was a gooy substance that made her face scrunch in disgust.

The color, the goo, it was all to familiar. All to like the upside down. It was happening again.

"Shit."

-

   The sun had faded awhile ago, leaving Phina in the dark. She had followed the path of the disease, which lead back towards town, but not quite. She had left the forest and was now in the farm areas outside of Hawkins. An entire patch of pumpkins had been destroyed by this disease.

   She carefully placed her steps as she walked through the field. The rotten pumpkins were full of that goo and she did not want to get that all over her.

   The sound of an engine in the distance simultaneously drew her in and made her aware that she was trespassing. She drew closer to the noise and a sigh of relief shot through her, it was Hopper.

   In front of the car, was a very large hole, which had dirt flying out of it in small increments of time.

   "Hopper," she asks as she gets closer to the hole, seeing him digging.

   He whirls around, "Phina? What the hell are you doing here?"

   "I could ask you the same thing," she pointed out, "what are you doing?"

   He sighs, "investigating."

   "Does it have something to do with why all my trees are dying," she asks, gesturing around.

   "Possibly," he answers, throwing another shovelful of dirt out of the hole.

   "Why are you digging a hole Hop," she asks.

   He sighs, she wasn't gonna leave without the answers she wanted, "because of Will."

   Phina's heart stops, "is he ok?"

   "He's fine, for the most part," Hopper sighs again, this time, more defeated, "whatever happened to you two yesterday has caused him to, act different. He's been drawing non-stop. I've got a theory, and unless you're gonna pick up a shovel and help you can go on home and wait for me to prove it or not."

   Hopper goes to dig again when he sees it, the goo. He shovels out a little bit of it, looking at it with strange curiosity.

   "What the hell?"

   Phina slowly climbs into the hole, to get a closer look. It seemed like there was a thick layer of this stuff, almost like how a portal to the upside down looked like before it opened. Hopper digs at it again, yelling a little bit as if it'd make him stronger. The small hole opens, some dirt falling through it which meant that there was an opening below it.

   Hopper hits it again and again to make the hole bigger. He looks up at Phina who has curiosity written all over her face.

   "Stay here," he says.

   "No chance in hell," she snaps.

   He'd fought her on a subject like this before, he knew he'd lose, "fine. Wait for me to yell before following."

   He sat down on the ground and slowly went through the hole. Phina looked on worriedly, what was down there. Hopper fell all the way through, giving Phina a heart attack before he yelled for her to go down. Phina lowers into the hole, Hopper helping her down. When she hits the ground, he takes out his flash light and they look all around them.

   "Holy shit," Phina whispers.

-2328 words-

Did y'all like that little Steve pov, good way to introduce the rumors about Steve and Phina, which will have a roll later on.

-Morgan

[luobingmeis]

Is it dumb that I keep putting off finishing Taz balance? I love it so much but I've never got past the end of petals to the metal because I get scared I'm not appreciating it enough or that I'm not ready for the really emotional stuff coming up so I relisten to everything up until then and the cycle repeats. You only get to hear it for the first time once y'know? And I want to finish it, but I don't want it to be finished and I feel like I'm overthinking it but I can't help it. Any thoughts?

oh anon, i understand you completely

first, let me tell you that one of my best friends started listening to taz over the summer, like, back in august, maaaaybe the end of july. after hearing him talk abt it, he was part of the reason i started listening to it in november. when im abt to start the finale abt two weeks later, i text him and find out that he’s relistened to the show three times and still hadn’t gotten through the finale bc he didn’t want it to end, and finally listened to it only bc i was, too. so, trust me, you’re not alone in not wanting it to end!!!

i was the same way too, tbh. by the time i got the “crystal kingdom” and heard griffin actually say, “oh yeah, we’re halfway done,” i was actually really sad about that, you know? which was weird, bc never have i actually been sad knowing that something’s gonna come to an end? like, yeah, finales or final books or whatever tend to get me emotional, but i tend to not think abt it? so taz was different in that, too, and i understand not wanting it to end. like, hell, im mad excited to listen to amnesty, but i had to listen to taz balance again bc i wasn’t ready for it to be over

and with the not appreciating it thing, i also completely get that. going into listening to taz, i knew that some pretty big and emotional things were gonna happen, so i’d be listening to, like, “murder on the rockport limited” and be thinking in the back of my head, “but, wait, what if i’m not appreciating this obscure dialogue exchange enough and and and-” and, honestly, not only did it make it hard to focus, but it, ironically, made it hard to appreciate it??? like, let me tell you that, as you progress further in the story, you’re just gonna Start appreciating it. not saying that you aren’t now!!! but that “appreciating” when you sit back in your chair and just go “holy shit” while listening to it.

like, don’t get me wrong, i loved listening to taz balance the entire time!! i thought “here there be gerblins” and “murder on the rockport limited” were hysterical (and cried laughing many times) and i really liked the racing aspect of “petals to the metal” and spent a lot of it on the edge of my seat, but, honestly, it wasn’t until the end of “petals to the metal” that i was invested bc, w/ that ending, i finally had that “holy shit” moment

like, trust me, i get what you’re saying bc i was the same way. i was nervous that i wasn’t appreciating it enough bc i heard everyone talking abt how moving the story was and how emotional it made them and i was like, “what if this random moment in “rockport limited” is one of those moments???” but like, just let the podcast happen!! like, w/out spoilers, there’s this Thing that happens in the last lunar interlude that, in my opinion, is one of the most shocking “holy shit” moments of the entire story. like, when i first heard it, i was on a bus going home from a swim meet and i had to cover my mouth to stop from losing my shit in front of my team mates omg. so, like, obvi it was a moment i wouldn’t forget. so, two or three days ago, i’m relistening to that same episode while im driving around the beach and i Know it’s happening and i Know it’s coming and, when it happened, i still freaked out and shouted abt it (alone in my car lmao) and hit my steering wheel a couple times bc of how much i fucking love that moment

so, like, trust me, where you’re at, you’re good to continue on bc you’re naturally gonna start getting so much more invested than you already are (please don’t think im “bashing” the first couple arcs, i think the entire show is amazing) and it’s gonna get very emotionally-inducing and, like, my advice is to finish it bc Holy Shit like not many stories have hit me like taz has........ like ngl, it’s on the same level as the song of achilles for me (which, idk if you know me, but that’s a pretty big deal) and like, for once, i don’t think this is just my “this is my current obsession so of course i think it’s amazing” thing, taz balance is an Actually Amazing And Breathtaking Story

also yeah the emotions get Heavy at the end. im a very emotional person in general but i don’t think i necessarily cry easily, or at least it takes a lot for a piece of media to make me cry (like, A Lot), and i cried throughout the final 20 minutes of the taz balance finale and then another 15 minutes afterwards and that was only bc i actively worked to calm myself down lmao

oh my god this got so long im so sorry, i just talk A Lot

basically, moral of my ted talk: i get what you’re saying, you’re gonna naturally start getting more and more invested and “appreciating” it more, and the emotions get heavy, but it’s so fucking good and beautiful and i 10/10 recommend finishing it

[fullofgutsndopamine]

We Could Build A Home (We Could Play Pretend) chapter five

previous masterlist

TWIl angst, cursing, alcohol, alcoholism, toxic/abusive relationship with parents (yours/charlies), toxic masculinity, heavy reference to physical abuse, fighting, charlie is a dick

they days after are filled with you trying to find a new hobby, something to keep your hands busy, to keep your mind off him and the sting that came with the song-

and also, trying to keep the snippet of the song you heard out of your head. it plays again and again, like a lullaby, taunting you in the back of your head when your eyes close, when your eyes wander over to his side of the house

Everything reminds you of him, and it's torture.

Even the lake, that sits right in your front yard, can see it when you're poured over doing dishes, reminds you of him, the days you'd sit on his broken pier, holding his hand as he walked you down it, could give in at any second, a torn beach towel in his hand as he laid it down for you, laid next to you, his hand on top of yours as he made the motion with the lake gently, crashing into the sea-wall, retreating, hitting again-

"I think in a past life, I was the lake."

you crane your head to look at him, his arms folded behind his head, your head rests on his arm and you watch him silently.

he look even more tired in the sun, you spent half this time tracing the marks the sun brought out onto his face gently, fingers dance from one freckle to the next, gently scoop your fingers into his dimples, the kind that only seems to show up when he's out of his house-

you use your elbow to prop yourself up more, to really look at him, because he hasn't done much talking lately, especially not anything deep-act like you don't feel his hand on your lower back when you sit halfway up

His hand is still over yours, larger than yours, calloused to hell and back and scarred- "I'd find you," he says quietly, gently, "past life or not. Whatever you come back as, i'd find you."

and the moment is to sweet for a second, makes you roll back onto your back: "even if i was a worm?"

a lazy laugh comes back, uses his hand to block the sun out of his eyes, "i'd dig through every last tomato plant to find you."

You bite your lip, because you know this is a joke, but it's still sweet to you, still means something to you-those little notes he'd leave in your mailbox, usually just a reminder that it was trash night, or something silly like that, signed with a C and a scribble, hit you that was a worm, all this time later-

you miss those nights, would do anything for them, and the next house over, so would charlie-

It comes in a rare moment of his father not drunk off his ass, asks where you are, seems genuinely surprised to not find you in his wake.

and charlie hasn't had time to practice this, hasn't slept in two days, got up when he heard the screen door slam close to make his father breakfast-

charlie cuts into a pancake he made, "Not sure, sir," charlie mumbles, and his father hates mumbling, hates when charlie doesn't look at him when he's speaking. "I think they've been busy with-"

his fathers fists slam on the kitchen table, "Look at me when you speak, Charles. I don't know how many god damn times we have to go over this."

and his patience for the day is slowly draining, pouring out of his father, and he wishes he could scoop the patience back into him, just wants a good day, cried himself to sleep over you last night-

"Yes, sir." charlie places the fork down, eyes dart around for a second before he licks his lips and continues, "I think they've been working-"

his voice cracks. knows he's going to have to practice speaking about you, get rid of the crack his voice makes, will have to adjust to a life without you-wil clears his throat, begging himself to pull it together for just a second.

"You cryin', boy?" His dad is yelling already, zero to sixty in seconds flat, "I'm tryin' to raise a man, ain't no boy of mine gonna be cryin'-"

His father makes his way across the table and charlie’s eyes slam shut, prays for it to be over, for it to end-usually, he'd be thinking of you, the constant that got him through it, but now, that hurt even more-

His face is harder, when he goes into town without you, less apology's with shaking hands for the paying in change, more of a stoic: "Say something. i dare you." on his face now, not the same charlie who stopped to pick flowers and carefully tuck them behind your ear as you both made a day of shopping around.

You start hearing all these stories of him, his fists doing the talking to anyone in town who had anything at all to say (the stories aren't passed down, of course, of the cashier who's at the receiving end of his fist, a snide comment that they're glad he dropped you, was trash anyways, would end up like your father, or if you're lucky, dead like your mother-)

You go out of your way to avoid seeing him, so when you finally do, a hot day for the Fall, even by Michigan's standards, sweat has your bangs plastered to your forehead as you tear weeds up-somehow, the sound of the gravel under feet surprises you, you jump-and there he is.

and there the fuck he is.

part of you is so excited to see him, not use to this hiatus of him, you want to drop the shovel out of your hand and run to him, throw your arms around his neck as he spins you around like he use to-

his move first, you tell yourself quietly.

instead, a small crowd is behind him, these new friends of his you know only in passing, wouldn't be able to tell you their names, have cupped hands and are whispering to one another as they stare at you, at the house.

and charlie is swaying back and forth in his spot, drunk, even after he said for years and years, he wouldn't do that, not after what you two have seen-

charlie speaks first, and you half don't even want an apology, all he would have to do is say your name, or darling or acknowledge your existence-and you'd forget those sleepless nights over him, missing him.

"i was always the dumb one, right?" he hiccups, is so obviously drunk, "Just in your shadow"

Where the fuck is this coming from?

"charlie, you idiot." You stand, dust the dirt off your knees, "What are-"

He's talking, or more yelling, because he could never whisper, even when he wasn't drunk, and was just a kid following you around in his dad's too big tee-shirts and broken overalls, missing teeth and his father's cowboy hat too big for his head, always falling over his eyes as he talked in an excited lisp about the lake, the fish. When he was a child and everything was less scary-

You can't look at his face, the black eye he wears, the fact that you aren't even sure if it was the receiving end of his father or a stranger hurt more-

Jason is in charlie's crowd. He has a beer bottle in-between his fingers, but he's pulling at the collar of his shirt as he's looking at you, not the confident Jason who's been by your side, the one who ended every comment with "That's what she said" or a snort, comes to charlie’s side as he's talking to you, ranting to you, more like it, claps him on the shoulder, makes charlie jump.

"C'mon, charlie." Jason says, "Why don't you show me your guitar you were talkin' about? Or the motor. I could fix it, probably." Jason swings back his beer, takes it and chucks it into your recycling can, makes charlie hiccup again, must've lost his train of thought.

"Y-yeah?" charlie says gently, eyebrows squished together, looks so fucking confused, "T-the engine."

And Jason turns him, leads him by his shoulder, turning around to you with wide eyes, you mouth thank you and wait until he's out of sight to let your shoulders drop and wipe at your leaking eyes

[teejdunc]

The Quarter Life Crisis

Well I don't really know what I'm doing so bare with me. 

24 has been a HARD year. If you know me, you know that this year was by far the toughest year of my life. In fact, I actually think I cried more this year than I have all of the other years combined (go ahead and laugh). 

MARCH

CORONA VIRRRRRRUSSS...

I should actually start with the dreaded break up.. or let go, I should say. We had been broken up but had been on and off in private. I had been hanging on to something I knew was not only bad for me but was never going to work. I had poured my heart into someone who was never going to pour back into me. My heart had never experience so much pain. No matter what I did or where I went, there was a piece of us there. It was a passing pick up, a song on the radio or just the smell in the air. I was frozen in time and I wasn’t getting over it.. I couldn’t eat, I couldn't sleep, I had no interest in any of the things that used to bring me happiness. Most every night for close to 3 months I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t feel like Taylor anymore, I was a stranger living in my own body. 

We’ll call this part of 24,  “sad girl hours”.

Fast forward to summer...

JULY

In July, my dad was consistently having chest pain. We found out he had severe blockage and would need to have surgery. After hours at the doctor’s they sent him home with nitro incase he had a heart-attack before scheduled surgery. I had been out with my friends that night but I was in bed early and I just remember hearing my moms footsteps running down the hallway, I already knew. 

I remember frantically asking what I needed to do and just feeling my whole head rush, like everything around me was spinning and I was helpless. We got dad to the car and mom rushed him to the ER. I called two of my closest friends and they met me at the ER. When I pulled up they were already sitting there waiting. I got into the pick up and I lost all composure I was balling like a baby. It didn't take them long to wrap me up and tell me that they were here for me and that things were going to be okay.

Due to COVID, we were not allowed to enter the hospital so we went home. (the story might be altered a little here... if you know the whole night’s story please keep it to yourself).

I think it was around 4:30 when I finally made it back to my parents house and I was so exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the living room wide awake, absolutely terrified for what tomorrow was going to bring.

Dad entered into surgery and had some complications and had to be in ICU for close to a month.  I remember getting a call from mom and I was in sheer panic. I just kept thinking “HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME? Why did it have to be MY dad?” I was so angry and hurt inside. I drove to the First Baptist parking lot and I sat there and I prayed and I told God that if he could heal my dad I wouldn’t ever ask for anything again. I remember just feeling so lost and helpless.

I was trying to do the best I could to stay strong for mom. I did what I could at the house and tried to convince myself it was enough.

In all of the chaos my mom stood strong and never waivered, just like an oak tree. They don’t tell you that seeing your parents hurt, hurts you more than physically being hurt. I wouldn’t wish this kind of hurt on my worst enemy.

After a LONG road and what has felt like a million days.. dad is doing so much better. PRAISE THE LORD!!

I realized in all of this that I was never alone. I didn't make it through this by myself. I had my friends surrounding me and supporting me in the ways they knew how. For some it was a text, a phone call, or showing up just to drive around so that I wasn’t alone.

If you were one of these people, you know who you are...  

From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. 

AUGUST

My grandpa had a heart attack.

SEPTEMBER

I started a new job teaching kindergarten at a new school with a new team.

Kinder is CRaZY!!

God sure knew what he was doing when he placed me at HP. I needed the spark for teaching to be re-lit within me. My team is wonderful and I feel like I finally found “my place”.

OCTOBER

One of my friends took his own life.

In October, I had a conversation with my old ag teacher who had called to let me know he had cancer. He told me he was so proud of me and we laughed about the things some of my friends and I did in class. I sat there and talked on the phone with him and couldn't help but drown in the thoughts that this man who had made HUGE impacts in not only my life but THOUSANDS of others, was sick. 

I just kept asking myself “Why is everyone I love hurting? Why is God doing this to me?”

THE BIG “D” and the semi colon...

I got a tattoo on my wrist (sorry mom) as a daily reminder.

The tattoo reads “ ; hold on”

I would have never wanted something so “socially embarrassing” on my body a year ago.

It’s not embarrassing anymore... depression is a REAL thing and suicide is REAL.

I laid in the floor several nights during the summer and wondered if things were ever going to feel “normal” again.

Don’t worry... nothing last forever. Not even your sadness!

But I needed a visable reminder, on my body, where I could remind myself every. single. day.

The semi colon symbolizes the place where the author had the chance to stop, but merely paused. This is used as the symbol for suicide and depression awareness. The words hold on have many meanings for me.

Hold onto faith

Hold onto love

Hold onto the people who get you through

Hold onto self worth

Hold on... because better days are coming!

NOVEMBER

In November, my ag teacher passed away. I took off work to make the funeral but I got sick and I had to stay in Amarillo. I had taken two days off, but decided to go back since I was feeling better. I was on lunch break when I got on my phone to look at Facebook when I saw that one of my friends had been in a car accident and had passed away. 

WHY WERE BAD THINGS HAPPENING TO GOOD PEOPLE? 

I couldn’t make rash of anything in my life and I was, without a doubt angry at God.

I hit a LOW point in my life. 

No amount of “I’m fine” was going to cover this up.

I really was lost as to how to get back to myself...

I went home for Thanksgiving break and well that was a disaster, I’ll leave it at that. 

DECEMBER

I returned to work for the final weeks before Christmas break. I spent most of the days corralling Kindergarteners and wishing the days would pass faster.

Finally... CHRISTMAS BREAK.

I went home and found something I had been needing.

I got to hug my parents for the first time since JULY!  ( yeah yeah, I’m still a little kid at heart)

I was able to rekindle a friendship with someone who I had gone separate ways from. Little did I know this was going to be the BEST thing to happen to me. We spent several days hanging out, singing at the tops of our lungs, laughing and making up for lost time. It was like we never missed a beat, we picked right back up where we had left off.

I am not certain of a lot, but I do know that God doesn’t make mistakes. 

I needed this friendship and she did too.  

I also needed my “Picture to Burn” singing partner back in my life and that's just what I got!

PS, you know who you are. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! 

JANUARY

Still CORONA VIRUS...

January I saw the neurologist. The doctors thought I had narcolepsy and that it was what was causing my excessive sleepiness and seizures.

I had to go to the hospital and have an MRI and an EEG to see if they could figure out what was going on.

LET ME TELL YOU I AM TERRIFIED OF SMALL SPACES... that brain MRI was enough trauma for me for a lifetime! 

NOT MY CUP OF TEA, LOL.

FEBRUARY

I got my results back from the MRI and the EEG, everything was CLEAR. PRAISE JESUS!

I will still have to have a sleep study done but hey... a sleep disorder is way better than what we originally thought! 

THE END OF 24

I turn 25 in 12 days... not quite sure I’m ready to accept that my twenties are halfway over.

24 WAS A LEARNING YEAR, the good and the bad.

I have learned a lot about myself. I am strong. I am independent. I am capable. I am loved. I am important. I make a difference. EVEN on the days I don’t feel that way. 

I have friends and family who would move mountains for me. 

I have a GOD who is unstoppable and faithful to his promises.

I have weathered the storms I thought I couldn’t and came out stronger.

I have doubted God in many moments of my life but I am certain that his plan is FAR greater than I could ever imagine.

So while 24 may have bruised and battered me, it did not break me.

CHEERS TO 25 YEARS, my friends.

Isaiah 43:2

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

Psalm 34:17-20

When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken.