#if he had grown to have a selfless and unconditional love for her

[loud-mouth-loser]

the other side of the street

summary: joel lives in the house across from yours and you've had your eye on him. you feel like he could be the answer to all your sorrows -- or at least a shoulder to cry on.

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x reader

rating: angst

warning: pre-outbreak!joel, one-sided pining (?), age gap (20 and 36), mention of dysfunctional family, alcohol, comfort, a kiss, crying, angst

w/c: 2.7k

a/n: this one took a while to write. i just wanted to put down some feelings so...here

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Whenever you sit outside on the porch, on one of those outdoor plastic chairs, nursing whatever drink is appropriate for the hour (coffee, lemonade, or a beer), your eyes always drift to that house across the street. The brick one with a pick-up parked out front. 

There’s a man, Joel, who lives there with his daughter. You’ve only talked to him a handful of times, maybe at a semi-annual neighborhood barbeque or at Walmart in one of the aisles looking at brands of cereal, but never on purpose. Nonetheless, you have a fixation. 

You’ve never yearned for someone like this before.

Because Joel is different. 

He’s soft. 

He has that kind of softness you’ve been searching for your whole life. That feeling of comfort that you’ve craved since you were old enough to think.

It’s the way he acts with Sarah, his daughter, showing her unconditional love and always looking at her with an air of awe that says “I can’t believe you’re my kid.” Or how he’s constantly fixing a neighbor’s sink or a/c unit because he can “spare the time” when all he really wants to do is sleep after a hard day of work.

He’s selfless and genuine. A rock in a trashing sea of incoherence. Something to hold on to as the waves push and pull at you, trying to suck you out into uncharted waters.

But he’s also a man. 

And you, a woman. 

You can’t help but admire the gentle curls of his greying hair and those precious brown eyes. And his southern drawl that could pull you to your knees. He could just say your name and you’d be stammering over your words.

He’s more man than you’ve ever experienced in your life. 

And you crave it, you need it.  

You need to feel his scratchy salt and pepper scruff rub against your hand as you pull him close, forehead against his, if only just to look into those deep brown eyes. If only to have him look back at you. 

You need to hear his voice brush against your ears, telling you how beautiful you are. How he’ll always keep you safe. How you’ll always be loved. 

You don’t know why you’re like this: needy, touch-starved, emotional. Could be a lot of things. The fact you’re the youngest, but the only one that can make a meal or clean a plate. Or how you’re the smallest but can take words like a punch in the face. 

Ultimately, you’re the college student, the one who made it, but you were dumb enough to let yourself get sucked back into the same bullshit you escaped from. You wonder if he knows what goes on behind those closed doors. How dysfunctional a house of four can be. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. It would never work out.

Joel is only in his late-30s, but he’s still too old for you. More like, you’re too young for him. You’re just a kid in his eyes. A kid that grew up, but isn’t really grown-up. And he’s busy. He has work and a daughter to raise – you’d be one more thing to worry about.

And you have enough on your plate as well. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. But life isn’t fair.

Having this time alone gives you a second wind, a chance to stop yourself from leaving once and for all. Here, you can sit outside away from your family and away from their expectations and demands. Here, you can stare at that house and think about another life, one that’s out of reach. And you’re okay with it because at least you’ll never be disappointed. 

“Mornin’ neighbor!” 

Your mind has been so busy and overcrowded with thoughts that you don’t even realize you’ve been staring at Joel who’s come out to collect his mail. He waves at you, a small smile tucked under his mustache. He’s walking toward you? 

 “Mr. Miller. Hi.” Heat flushes under your skin and you sit up straighter at his presence.

He almost looks nervous as he approaches you, “Hey, I, uh, was wonderin’ if you could do me a favor?” That southern twang slides off his tongue with every word and you just want to lick it up. 

Is that weird? 

Shit, he’s waiting for a response.

“S-sure, what do you need?” 

“It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow so I’m taking him out for drinks tonight. I just need someone to watch over Sarah and the house.” He nods over to his place as if you didn’t know where he lived. “Usually, I have her go over to Adler’s but they’re out of town…”

“Oh, sure, of course, I can.”

“Really? The pay ain’t great.”

“You don’t need to pay me, Mr. Miller, you’ve done a lot for my family. I’m happy to help.” 

“I appreciate it, sweetheart.” He seems surprised but genuinely grateful, “Is 7 ok?” 

“I’ll be there.”

—

You get there at 6:55, not wanting to appear too enthused, but also wanting to be punctual. He gives you a smile when he opens the door, already dressed in a button-up and dark slacks.

“Thanks again for doing this, kid.” Kid.

“Yeah, sure.” 

He calls out to Sarah, who’s in her room, telling her he’d be back late and not to wait up. She yells back a muffled, “Got it, Dad. See you later!” 

“Don’t let ‘er stay up too late.” He says right before heading out. “She’s a good kid, but she can be persuasive.”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered from here.” 

You watch as he gets into his truck before closing the door. 

You never thought you’d actually enjoy babysitting a 14-year-old preteen. You expected sass or at least a face of indifference, but Sarah is different. She’s polite and easy to get along with. 

She says you’re a step up from hanging with Mrs. Adler and her mom, making dry oatmeal cookies, and watching Nana stare at the wall. 

You think it’s a compliment, so you take it as one. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mini Miller.” 

After making sure she did her homework (because you’re a responsible adult), you end up watching one of the Jurrasic Park movies while eating mac and cheese for dinner. It’s nice being able to relax, not tensing up whenever you hear footsteps approach you on creaky wooden floors. This is an escape for you even though it’s just you fulfilling a favor.

You glance at the time on the microwave. 11:47 pm. Way after bedtime. “Alright kid, I think it’s time to head to bed.”

“Kid? You’re only 7 years older than me!”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You pick up the dirty bowls and place them in the sink, “C’mon, your dad will kill me if I let you stay up any longer.”

She rolls her eyes, “No he wouldn’t”

 “Either way. Get on with it.” You give her a look that says, ‘don’t push me’. 

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

—

It’s been quiet without Sarah around to talk to, and quite boring. You idly flip through channels, barely paying attention to what’s on as the volume is low enough that you’d have to hold your breath to hear it. It’s sometime around midnight, almost nearing 1 o’clock and the whole neighborhood is dark, not a single light on. 

You’re watching reruns of some sitcom when you hear his truck carefully pull into the driveway. The engine dies and the front door opens.

“You’re still here?”

You look at Joel from where you’re seating, “Yeah, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He nods, still standing there like he doesn’t know where to go now. “Sarah’s asleep… We made mac and cheese for dinner.” That caught his attention.

“Is there any left?”

“Should be, but it’s cold. It’s been in the fridge for a couple of hours.”

You watch him walk to the kitchen and rifle through the fridge. He gets out the container of saved pasta and then turns to you, the fridge door still open. “You want a beer or somethin’?”

You snort, “I’m only 20.” He shrugs at that. 

He sets out a bottle for himself, “Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. What’s one year, right?” 

“I–Ok.” He takes out another.

He doesn’t even bother to heat up the mac and cheese, just brings it over to the coffee table and sits next to you. “What’re we watching?”

“Um…Friends, I think.” He opens the beers, twisting them open easily, and passes one to you. “Thanks.” He answers you with a quick nod. 

You both watch the show silently as he eats, the show’s laugh track is a mere whisper in the air. You were actually planning on heading home when he returned, but now…it would be rude to – right?

And then there’s an ad break. 

“So how’s the family?” You tense from the question. 

“Fine, good.” You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“Really?” 

You nod, “Yeah.” You take a long sip of beer, a buffer to keep you from saying anything more. It’s bitter on your tongue and acrid at the back of your throat. You swallow it anyway. 

“And you? How have you been?” Me?

Sometimes you wonder if people know how questions like that can make or break a person. A simple, “Are you okay?”, could push you off the edge. And this is Joel that’s asking you. 

His gaze feels heavy on you as he watches your hands fiddle with your bottle anxiously. 

“I’m…good.” 

His eyebrows raise, “Good…really.” He sighs, “That’s all you got for me? You’re just ‘good’?” 

“Um…How about you Mr. Miller?”

“Tired.” You can see it in his eyes and that smile. You decide right then and there, you can’t tell him now. Even if the world is crumbling under you. You’re too young for him and he’s busy. “Glad I have the day off tomorrow.” You nod understandingly because that’s all you can offer. You wish you could do more.

“That’s good”

The show is back on, but neither of you turn back to it. The glow of the tv washes over your forms, locking you in place. 

“What’s up, honey?” He puts down his food, sitting it right on the edge of the coffee table. It’s a precarious position that lowkey freaks you out, but you’re more afraid of his words. “Is something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?” 

You follow his actions, setting down your bottle while also subtly shoving the container of pasta further onto the table. “Oh, n-no, Mr. Miller. I’m ok.” 

“Please, you can tell me.” His words are pulling you at you, peeling layers off of your practiced role. It’s hard to hold back. Maybe it’s time to leave…

“I–don’t…”

“Why are you still here?” This time the question isn’t asked with an air of surprise. This time he’s worried. You realize you aren’t getting out of this easily. You swear your lip will split with how hard you're biting down on it. “This is a safe space, sweetheart, say whatever you need to. I’ll listen.”

Just like that, you’re yanked off the edge. But now, you’re not as scared. Now you know he’ll be there to soften the fall. 

You talk slowly, careful to just ease along the edge of your feelings, “Sometimes…I don’t want to go home.” Just admitting that takes a huge weight off your shoulders. Joel readjusts his seating position and he’s now turned toward you. He’s listening. 

“Why not? Is something happenin’...?” Those gentle brown eyes urge you to continue.

“It’s–When I’m with my family, living feels like a chore.” It’s spilling, overflowing, “My brother just got out of jail, my mom’s a borderline alcoholic, and my dad is rarely home. I feel like I can’t breathe when I’m in there like I’m suffocating in my own makeshift box. I get angry at them and at myself, and then I’m guilty,” It’s pouring and you can’t stop it. “And t-then I feel lost,” Your voice cracks, but you’re too engulfed in everything to care, “because they’re all I’ve known. And I want them to change, god I do, but I also just want them to go away. I want to go away, even just for a little bit.” You don’t realize you’re crying until a warm droplet spills down your neck and under your t-shirt. 

“Come ‘ere.” He pulls you against him, letting you lean on his chest, not caring if your tears soak through his clothes. You let the tears fall now that you aren’t facing each other and they spill down your cheeks, hot and sticky. “It’s okay, honey. Just let it out.” A hand smooths against your back, comfortingly.

You could be crying from embarrassment as much as your emotional exhaustion. Or even about how good it feels to finally be comforted. 

His heartbeat is steady under you as well as each rise and fall of his chest. The soothing movement helps to calm you down until you’re just sniffling every so often.

“Have you ever been in a room full of people, but feel completely and utterly alone?” Your voice is hoarse and faint, slightly muffled as your cheek is pressed flush against his chest. 

His voice is soft, “I have.” 

Another sniffle. 

“I don’t want to be alone anymore, Joel.” Your head is tucked under his chin and nuzzled into his soft flannel. 

His hand your head off of him and he looks right into your eyes, palm cradling your cheek, “You’re not alone, honey.” He says it so quietly like it’s just for you to hear and no one else. 

You must look a mess, eyes red and nose snuffed, as you stare back at him. Your eyes glisten with tears and admiration like he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. And then they drop, below the honey eyes, and under his freckled nose. 

What would you have to give to get that kind of comfort?

You realize what you’re doing and look back up, face heating with flustered energy and embarrassment. His eyebrows are furrowed when you meet his eyes again. He has to know exactly what you were thinking.

God, you fucked it all up! 

You expect him to push you away…but he doesn’t. 

He leans in before you could say anything, pressing his lips gently against yours. It takes you a second to realize what was happening as held you and breathed you in. He’s kissing you. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you sigh into the kiss, eagerly pushing toward him to feel this skin flush against you. His lips are so soft as they brush against yours, careful to keep things slow and gentle as you ease into it. You whine softly as he pulls back, trying to chase his lips as he leaves. You can’t, he’s holding you back. 

He starts nipping and sucking at your plump lips lovingly before pushing back in to swallow down your gasps. His hands continue to cradle your jaw, guiding your head as he deepens the kiss, tongue gliding over your sensitive lips. You try to ignore the way his whiskers tickle your upper lip as he pushes into your mouth, tongue mingling and laving against yours like it’s his life source. 

“Joel.” 

His touch disappears. 

You pull away, dazed by his kiss. His taste. You wonder if he felt it too, that spark, that connection. The feel of his lips against yours is addicting and you’d do anything to do it again. 

When you meet his eyes, it’s clear he doesn’t feel the same. 

“...T-this was a mistake.”

“What–”

“Honey, I shouldn’t have done that.” He gets up off the couch. “You were distressed and I took advantage of it.” You start to shake your head, but you don’t get a word out. “I did and I apologize. Look, maybe these beers weren’t a good idea. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea…”

“Joel,” 

“It’s Miller.” Any glint of hope you once had is immediately snuffed out. 

“But, I wanted it.” 

“You don’t know what you want.” That hurts. He can tell. His eyes soften, “Can we just…pretend like that never happened?”

“Yeah. I-I understand, Mr. Miller.” You get up and collect your sweater and phone, leaving the barely-touched bottle on the coffee table. “I’ll…just go now. It’s way past my curfew anyway.” 

You anxiously try to walk around him to the front door, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. You freeze. 

“Just…be safe, okay?”

“Sure.”

You walk out.

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where I give myself stupidly niche requests according to this marvelous card... or something. It's been three years dawg. (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

You dislike me, Princess Ivy? We each have our tastes, I suppose, but…this makes me sad.

It's a bit of an unorthodox take on "Take Me Instead" that's tailored to my tastes, but what is fanfiction if not an expression of a thing you like? Yeah, exactly.

I may have lost myself during the making of this fanfic. Got lost in the sauce, you could say. It's very verbose and static, and I lost sight of what this fic was originally going to be about. Or was it ever about anything that wasn't writing an interaction vaguely based on a bond conversation that amused me? I'm not sure of either.

This is probably super OOC because I already don't write Camilla in a canon-compliant way, so… watch out for that! It was fun to write anyway. God I love Kagetsu so much, he truly is babygirl-coded.

The title is a bit random. I honestly didn't have better that wasn't a title I saw used elsewhere, so… oops.

-----------

Rice Vinegar

Summary: Camilla has a discussion with Kagetsu after a very rough battle against the Corrupted - out of concern and misunderstanding. Self-sacrifice is a truly ugly thing.

Fandom: Fire Emblem Engage

Word Count: 2.8K words

AO3 version available here.

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo.

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Camilla has never been a stranger to death and bodily harm – quite the opposite, really. When she was alive, she often was the one inflicting this harm onto others, either in self-defence or in a genuine attempt to take down her enemies. It was her father’s overly ambitious mistresses, it was a mindless shell of a soldier threatening harm on her brother, it was – they all died, or died again, to her hand, her axe, her wyvern. And she had no regret about it whatsoever.

Nothing and nobody was ever sacred, when she was alive. Even alliances could fickle and she’d draw blood again. She had grown up in an environment where it made it all too easy to justify violence for all sorts of reasons, selfish or selfless, with or without consequences. It never came to pass, thanks to her dear Corrin, but the fear was here until the end of her days.

Camilla has, however, never been a stranger to self-sacrifices – mostly from other people.

She gets it, in essence. She, too, felt unconditional love for her siblings and her children, knew when to risk in a hit to save a friend, heard all of the speeches – a brother sacrificing his health for his country, a sister always ready to help anyone out of the kindness of her heart, a neighbour country’s values of honour and solidarity at times trampling a need for self-preservation. Duties and passion, abnegation, causes worth losing a life for.

It’s a noble feeling, even if noble isn’t exactly… what she’s been known for. But she gets it, she truly does – the urge to sacrifice something, that is. Her own life, though? That’s another thing. How could she protect her siblings and fight for her kingdom if she was dead? Sacrificing someone else was fine, as long as it wasn’t someone she had to protect, including herself.

Evidently, the person to who she’s been assigned doesn’t see it the way she does.

She came to learn that when in the heat of battle. They were all surrounded by flows of the Corrupted, unrelenting, the distant cackle of Griss coming to her hears. Kagetsu himself was flanked by Prince Diamant and Princess Ivy, his own liege, sword drawn and ready to strike, while flames burned in the distance and smoke stung his eyes. Despite the fact he had just exhausted his power to engage with her, she could still feel the way his legs cramped, the twitch in his sword arm after using it for so long and, most of all, the pain of the one injury he had sustained.

She couldn’t communicate with him much in this context, so she could only worry about him and the way he wouldn’t ask Princess Ivy for a quick heal with the staff she carried on her back – while she was busy blasting away with Bolganone in hands, Diamant could keep the Corrupted away for long enough so Ivy could patch her retainer.

He then froze. An archer had his eyes set on Ivy. She had her eyes somewhere else. A bleeding wound adorned her right thigh.

She couldn’t quite see Kagetsu’s face with the smoke and the way she had to hover without obscuring his vision, but what she felt spoke more than enough for him. Adrenaline pulsed in his body, so did an urge to protect his friends, and no thought was spared to his own safety. Like a good retainer, he’d throw it all away for the sake of his liege, exchanging his life for hers.

No, don’t take Princess Ivy! She heard his heart cry. Take me instead!

He rushed ahead, what was left of his ponytail dangling in the wind, blood already flowing from his left leg yet leaving no limp behind.

Diamant’s voice acted before his body ever did.

“Kagetsu, wait—”

But it was too late. His blade had already struck the archer, and an arrow had already lodged itself in his abdomen.

It’s since then all crashed down on poor, poor Kagetsu, who got sternly recommended to keep the bed by a child maybe half his size. Unable to protest in his state, he was no match for the youthful resilience of Jean, doctor in becoming, with assistance from stubborn Steward Framme. It’d have been cute, if she didn’t feel concern and so much of Kagetsu’s shame through the bracelet he was still holding on to.

Even now, watching over him in bed, she feels the shame, watches him try to toss and turn, only for his teeth to grit together. It’s an upsetting thing, even with her experience; they’re friends, and friends don’t ever like seeing their friend suffer in any way.

“I don’t understand it,” he tells her, even if it comes off as thinking out loud.

“What don’t you understand?”

Through their bond, she can tell he is upset – anxious, even, which comes off as a foreign concept to someone like Kagetsu. Moral pain like this is something that clashes with his usual personality. Perhaps there are more layers to him than she’d have thought?

“I don’t understand why Princess Ivy and Prince Diamant were so… upset. It’s like I did something wrong and it’s hurt them!”

Ah, figures.

Camilla did easily read the anguish on Ivy’s face, yes. She could tell with one insisting gaze that she was going through a lot of emotions, and while she isn’t able to tell with perfect accuracy due to not being linked to her at the moment, she can hazard a very solid guess as to what she was thinking – if just because their experiences haven’t been so different and because Kagetsu, ever the social butterfly, sees his liege a lot of the time and chats her up into unveiling some information about herself.

Although, there may be very little guessing on her part required to begin with, when she had the aftermath of the seemingly senseless sacrifice play out before her very eyes.

As soon as Ivy had finished defeating the Corrupted obscuring her view and flanking her, she had glanced back at her retainer, who now had an arrow in his side – a feat rare enough to be cited, both for the very fact it wasn’t in an easier area to reach, and for it to have lodged itself between two ribs.

She was about to scream his name, from what Camilla could see near the bracelet; but her voice was caught in her throat before she could, right as Kagetsu folded like paper onto himself.

The staff she was clutching in her hands was on the verge of rupturing, Diamant was bleeding from what Camilla could guess to be a deep gash in his side, but he insisted on her using it on Kagetsu, by virtue of him still standing and the swordman not, spotting the arrival of Framme.

So Ivy used the remaining energy left in the staff on her retainer, the tool breaking into dust as his eyes fluttered back open, an extraordinary weight to his eyelids preventing them from opening fully. His leg wound was now doing better, but the arrow remained in his chest. Right as she asked him, almost without a breath, how he was doing, his sole answer was smiling.

“I’m glad you are fine, Princess Ivy,” he said before falling back asleep.

Ivy wasn’t handling it as well as one whose father and concubines led a life of debauchery and deadly power games should’ve, in Camilla’s eyes, but she understood it. Beruka and Selena were far more important to her than political games, at the end of the day. Associate a name, a voice and a personality to a body, and then you’re suddenly much more affected by their blood flowing from their wounds. Figures.

Still, she carried on nonetheless: she brought Kagetsu on top of her wyvern to safety, watched the battle end by Diamant’s side, asked about the way he limped, scrutinized his denial, asked Framme to look at it. Kept an eye on Kagetsu. Almost refused treatment to be bedside vigil. Discussed his stillness with Zelkov, who didn’t even bother hiding all sorts of concerns. Let Jean take a look at her wound, in silence. Remained there once it was bandaged. Still watched over Kagetsu, stoic anguish never vanishing.

“Why did he do such a thing?” She asked, thinking out loud, at long last. “Putting himself in harm’s way on purpose… How reckless of him.”

There was no surprise in her voice.

“I suppose he did so to protect you,”

There was also no surprise in Zelkov’s as he replied.

“I can defend myself just fine.”

Diamant stared at the scene in silence from where he sat, nearby, face distorted.

“As any retainer would do,” he commented, eyes squinted, nailed into the form of his colleague.

“Then may he never do that again,” she immediately retorted, clutching her arms even closer to the rest of her body. “I’d have survived that without issue. He didn’t need to kill himself over me.”

The protest wasn’t a matter of pride, or else, Zelkov might’ve commented on it.

“I’m afraid it might happen again in any upcoming battle,” he told her instead. “Kagetsu and I have the mission to serve and protect you.”

“Even at the cost of your life?”

“Yes, even if it might cost us our lives.”

“Absolutely repulsive.” She was on the verge of crying. “Is he going to be fine…?”

“He should be,” Framme chimed in, now that she was done with Diamant’s leg.

“Should be?”

Framme’s shoulders shot up, stiff.

“It’s, uh… never certain. But he really should be okay! Jean’s just gonna check him over once he can and he’ll be able to go on his merry way! After some rest, of course.”

“He better be fine after this is all said and done. I won’t let him throw his life away for… such pointless reasons! I can’t… lose anyone again. Not after Hortensia and I had to…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but judging by Zelkov and Diamant’s reactions, she didn’t need to.

Grief may’ve been the one thing linking the three of them together.

Once more, this doesn’t seem to be how Kagetsu views it – or perhaps he lacks knowledge of it. Losing blood and going through intense pain does tend to tinge someone’s memory or even bleach them away. Let her see how he conceives it, then.

“You didn’t do something wrong per say,” she starts explaining, for a second picturing a sister’s confusion at their brother’s upset. “But you did something that would bring pain to those who’re closest to you, dear.”

“In what way?” He sounds so genuinely confused, and in that moment, Camilla can only understand Ivy’s pain even further. “All I did was defend my friends. Princess Ivy could have been severely hurt.”

“What about Prince Diamant? I recall you being injured as well even before the arrow struck, Kagetsu.”

“He could have gotten hurt too.”

He ignores the second part entirely, then.

“But he was just as qualified as you were to take the enemy down before they could struck Princess Ivy.”

“I’m Princess Ivy’s retainer,” he chews back, even if it lacks strength (very much because his body has all sorts of protests against the exertion). “It’s my mission to keep her safe. It is not Prince Diamant’s mission.”

Camilla wants to ask if this could apply to Zelkov as well, only to bite back on it because asking seems to be a bit of pointless endeavour.”

“Then I suppose I can only hope to make you understand why they both were so upset, Kagetsu.”

His face lightens up.

“Oh, pray and tell! It sounds like very useful information to know.”

She shifts, crossing her arms and float-sitting on the empty chair next to the bed. Framme left a little while ago, but not without a promise to come back soon. It was something about a potion and reinforcement, if she recalls correctly, but this isn’t the focus of her thoughts.

“I too had retainers in my lifetime. They were both very dear to me, to a point where it pained me when they’d get hurt, especially on my behalf.” She sighs. “Of course, protecting one’s liege is the most important mission of a retainer, and both Princess Ivy and I understand that. Still, it didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilt for letting them get hurt on my behalf – or getting hurt at all, come to think of it.”

“You would feel… guilt?”

“Among all sorts of negative emotions, yes.”

“But then, why feel upset?”

“Because they were people who I cared deeply about, and like you, I didn’t like seeing my loved ones hurt in any way. I’ve killed for them, and I’d do it again even today.” He looks slightly horrified, which prompts her to let go a little of the bloodied details of a life long past gone. “Princess Ivy cares about you in a similar way, so even if you think you did good protecting her, she’s been upset to see you hurt – just like you’d have been would your positions have been inverted.”

“So, I caused Princess Ivy pain because she cares for me?”

“Indeed.”

He remains silent for a moment, leaning back into the pillow. He looks defeated.

“Then, if I had avoided that arrow… She would not have been hurt.”

This really isn’t what Camilla wanted him to conclude. What a stubborn soul.

Unfortunately, before she can disprove his flimsy theory, he continues.

“I wish my strange powers would not be so useless. If they were not, then perhaps… perhaps I could have seen it coming, and I could have protected Princess Ivy without upsetting her by getting hurt.”

“This isn’t what I wanted you to understand,” she replies. “Your powers may’ve stopped it from happening this time, but it wouldn’t fix the issue.”

His eyes, which are still slightly glazed over, grow wider, before his face hardens again.

“What would fix the problem, then, Camilla?”

He asks that with a flame in his eyes and no chill going down his spine – a far cry from a moment ago. The bright smile has always hidden a sharp blade underneath, and now, it’s pointed towards her, light lining its edge.

“Sometimes, you can’t avoid getting hurt, especially in combat. Ivy understands that as much as you do. However, what hurt wasn’t that you were in pain.” She marks a pause. “What hurt her was that you got hurt in her stead, when you were already hurt and actively hiding it from her. She blames herself for what happened, and combined with the concern it caused her, it was painful to go through. I’d even go as far as to say she’s wondering if you trust her.”

“Oh…”

The lack of bite tells her this is finally dawning on him.

“I know you tried to do good, and deep down, I know Ivy understands that as well. She only got concerned, but that’s why you can’t always jump in front of danger and take hits for other people. What if you had been more grievously injured than you thought? Or worse, what if the blow had been fatal?”

“I see… how that would cause a lot of bad things.”

“Ivy cares about you as a person, and by doing that, you hurt her by accident, just like she would if she got injured in front of you. It’s a fine line to walk, because while you had good intentions, most of the consequences were the complete opposite of what you wanted. You also need to think of your self-preservation, when you think of taking a hit for someone else.”

“I am starting to see…”

“I don’t expect you to learn all of this in one go. If your culture is anything like Hoshido’s, it promotes sacrifice for the sake of the greater good. At least, this is what I got from fighting alongside Hoshidians.”

“Oh, please tell me more! I am curious to know about-”

A knock on the door.

“It’ll have to wait until next time, I’m afraid. It seems like you’ve got a visitor.”

“Oh!” He lightens up. “Come on in, friend!”

The door opens to unveil a slightly less anxious Ivy: her shoulders are hanging lower, her eyebrows are unknitted, and her hands aren’t fiddling as much as they did when Framme was looking over her retainer.

“It’s good to see you’re awake, Kagetsu,” she says with a timid smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore, but I am alive, and soon enough, I will be full of vigour again!”

“I’m certain you will,” she chuckles, but the laugh disappears quickly. “There are things I want to discuss with you.”

She sits down, gaze unfaltering, at which point Camilla decides they deserve some privacy.

[sweetlyocs]

Phoenix & Her Types of Love (NCT DREAM)

Mark

PHILIA – AFFECTIONATE, FRIENDLY LOVE

Mark wasn’t the first person she had ever trusted but he was her biggest motivation and to her, she would follow him anywhere. The two are bonded in such a way that they are willing to sacrifice themselves to ensure that the other is able to achieve their own goals, it has landed them in some arguments but at the end of the day it’s one of their main ways to show how they truly love one another. They are the storybook dream of what a best friend should include and they can always find their way back to each other

Jeno

AGAPE – SELFLESS, UNIVERSAL LOVE

Jeno has never hidden how he cares for Phoenix, the two have been close for most of their lives but Phoenix is always in awe of how much he can give. She feels that she lacks quite a lot in their relationship so whenever she gets to experience his kindness she tries to use that to help another, whether that be Jeno, another member or even a stranger. Jeno has taught her many things through his love so she tries to use those lessons daily

Renjun

PHILAUTIA – SELF LOVE

Phoenix has had to witness many dark nights as a team mate of Renjun’s so she found it key to slowly incorporate lessons in self care to him. Phoenix made it a point to ensure that he understood how much love and kindness he deserves by in tern, leading by example. Though if one is too caught in themselves, the other is there to remind and humble them

Haechan

LUDUS – PLAYFUL, FLIRTATIOUS LOVE

The bond and love between Haechan and Somin is that teasing, what if kind of love that never goes too far. They are aware of any kind of attraction and are not immune to acting on their feelings rather than proper thoughts but they are easily able to slip back into straight platonic ventures too. They prefer to keep a playful image in front of others but provide comforting support behind closed doors

Jaemin

EROS – ROMANTIC, PASSIONATE LOVE (OF THE BODY)

The blurred lines sit strongly between Jaemin and Phoenix, as the two have never thought about hiding any kind of emotion from the other. Jaemin and Somin have gotten caught up in the moment many of times and when this happens they act purely on the world appearing through rose coloured glasses. The two have a love shared through many different foundations and its those bonds that make their small reincarnated lovers trope so strong. Phoenix finds the romance in the world with Jaemin and finds herself comparing her future with her present, building unwavering and unrealistic expectations for herself and her future partner

Chenle

STORGE – UNCONDITIONAL, FAMILIAL LOVE

Phoenix’s love for Chenle is at times very selfish, she finds herself needing to have him to hold and love much like a mother even if he isn’t wanting to return the favour. When they became close when he was young the older would love to dote on him and appear at his every call to which he loved the attention of. As he’s grown, Phoenix has felt herself feel as if she isn’t as widely needed and that has lead her to grow other kinds of loves but her forever unconditional will always be Chenle. 

Jisung 

PRAGMA – COMMITTED, LONG-LASTING LOVE

Phoenix never felt the need to coddle and baby Jisung which in turn made the two closer in other ways, mainly the fact that she allowed him to grow in ways he felt suffocated - sharing his dreams, insecurities and how he endured what they were facing. The two are muchly in sync and often communicate without words but their bond is one that is constantly nurtured and left to grow which has resulted in what Somin feels as the most beautiful love she has in NCT. Jisung is someone that she always see’s in her future and one that she knows will be protecting her from all sides at every moment

[yiangchen]

.

[goodfish-bowl]

Ectober Day 5: Fairy Circle

Prequel to Lost in the Wood

AO3 link (will be updated)

Summary: Flynn should’ve known better than to go into the woods by himself.

Words: 1596

Content warnings: child abduction, manipulation

Notes: this is the first, and Lost in the Wood is technically the last, but there will be more in between, the order your read them in is irrelevant.

Flynn’s parents were fighting again. It was his birthday, they could at least wait until the next day. Papa was trying to teach him how to shoot a gun, which Mom had known he had brought. That’s what the argument was about this time. Flynn didn’t think he really needed to know how to shoot a shotgun. He knew how to get away from a bear and make a variety of traps, why would he need a gun?

The yelling escalated and Flynn decided an enclosed tent was not the place to be. He took a deep breath, bitter that his parents would fight on his birthday. He loved the woods, it had a quiet that didn’t exist in their cabin back in Spitoon. He loved his home and his parents, he just wished they’d get along more.

Flynn had an idea, then, and took a glance behind him. He wasn’t allowed to go into the woods alone. It was the chief rule, one of the few things his parents did agree on absolutely. Flynn grabbed his bag, shoved it full of the most basic gear, and took off running.

The woods consumed him in seconds. Another thing he loved. He instantly found the place in the woods where the trees were as thick around as the tool shed, and the light became dim, high canopy preventing it from touching the ground more than just enough to see through green lenses.

Flynn slowed down and took a glance behind him, the deer tail barely visible among the remaining brush. He couldn’t hear his parents anymore, and the forest was much too silent. He felt desperately alone. Flynn took a deep breath and calmed down, trying to keep from crying. He would never get his parents to work together to find him if he couldn’t at least wait for them to notice he was gone. (They’d notice right? They would come for him?) He made himself a comfortable spot and pulled out a protein bar to munch on. Now all he had to do is wait.

Flynn waited, and then waited some more. He was really patient, he knew he was, and he knew he had waited a long time by now. The sun was getting ready to set soon. Something sad and lonely settled in a corner of his mind. Where were Mom and Papa? We’re they looking for him? He knew that he hadn’t wondered to far by himself, he should be able to hear them from camp if they were calling for him.

Flynn held as still and quiet as he physically could, but he heard nothing, not even the sounds of the woods he had grown to love. Suddenly uncomfortable at the lack of sound outside of his own person, Flynn decided to go back to camp. He didn't want to be out here at night. He pulled a flashlight from his bag and clicked the button. The light flickered pathetically for a second before going out, leaving him in the coming darkness.

As fast as he safely could, Flynn went back towards camp. The woods didn’t go back to the familiar sight of the campground, but remained old and silent, judging him for his actions. Tears built up behind his eyes, but Papa said boys didn’t cry, so he shouldn’t. But Flynn couldn’t help it, and the tears flowed freely.

“Mom! Papa!” He called out, fear and desperation saturating his voice. He cried out again and again, but the woods gave him nothing in return.

Finally, the brink of darkness fell, and Flynn lost the ability to see.

“Poor thing. Did your parents leave you?”

Flynn froze and whiled around, yelping in fear as his heart sputtered in his chest. He hadn’t even heard someone approach.

And she was standing far too close, only a couple feet away, a strange green lantern illuminating her and the area around her. Flynn whimpered, scared, silently chiding himself for acting like a baby. He wasn’t scared! She just surprised him. Yeah, that’s all. The dark, silent woods, with surprise ladies had nothing on him. He built up his courage to reply.

“My parents didn’t leave me!” He shouted defensively, “I ran away.”

He couldn’t see her features under the black veil she was wearing, which he thought was weird. It was nowhere near Halloween. Even stranger, she started to sniffle and cry, like she was the one lost.

“Oh, oh, so sad. You must be so brave to run away from your parents! Tell me, little one, why did you run?” She asked, her voice quivering from her tears.

Flynn gulped, this lady gave him the creeps. “I wanted them to make them stop fighting on my birthday,” he answered truthfully.

She stood there for a moment, before wailing in anguish. It echoed in the forest much more than it should, “So brave, so selfless, so, so, so sad,” She cried out, “How old did you turn today?” She asked between another sniffle.

“Twelve.”

She was too close all too fast. He didn’t see her move, but now her face was leaned into his, and he could see her stange, bloodshot and crimson eyes underneath her pitch veil.

“Would you like to play a game with me? When we’re done I can take you back to your parents.” She asked, her voice and tone suddenly different.

When he tried to back up, her hand snapped to his wrist, ice cold and pale fingers digging into his wrist. He began to struggle, pulling desperately on her wrist and hand to release him.

“Stop! You’re hurting me.” Flynn wailed, throwing all his wait into him release. She didn’t as much as budge.

After a heavy second, her fingers cracked off of his wrist like old hinges. He cradled his wrist, aware that he would have bruises by tomorrow.

“Will you play?” She asked, her tone so monotone she could’be been a robot.

“No! I want to go back to my parents!” He demanded. She didn’t react.

“I will take you back to your parents after we play, I promise,” she swore, placing a hand onto her chest.

“No! You’re creepy and you hurt me! I don’t want to lpay with you!”

Apparently, she didn’t like that answer. She reeled back, and clutched and tugged at her veil. He could still see her eyes under her veil, and the green light of the lantern seemed to intensify.

“Then you won’t leave this forest.”

The light of the lantern snuffed out, abandoning him in the dark. He cried out, frightened or the pitch blackness and silence that had engulfed him.

“Please! Don’t leave me! I’ll play! I’ll play! Just don’t leave me here!” Flynn wailed.

The lantern light returned, this time several paces behind him. He could see her smile under the veil.

“Thank you so much. I’ve been so lonely,” she thanked him, and beckoned him closer.

Hesitantly, he took a few steps forward, but easily out of reach still.

“So, what are we playing?” Flynn asked, genuinely curious.

“I love to play castle. I’ll be the Lady, and you can be my lovely little knight!” He exclaimed in glee, before pausing, “I don’t know your name yet, little knight. Tell me so I may knight you as your Lady and Queen.”

Realizing the game had already begun, Flynn went down on one knee, “My name is Flynn Walker, my lady. What is yours?‘

She smiled, kind and cruel. “My name is Misery Vex, but you may call me Lady Widow.”

She suddenly held a blade, as long as his forearm, the metal reflecting the green of her lantern. His eyes widened. She hadn’t had that a second ago. She pointed it at him, then carefully touched his shoulders twice with it.

“Flynn Walker, do you swear to serve me and my will as long as you can, with your heart and life? Until your body no longer bleeds and mind no longer thinks? DO you promise to protect me from all threats and dote upon my every word?” She asked.

Still thinking it part of a game, Flynn swore. “I do, my Lady Widow.”

“Then rise, Ser Flynn.”

Flynn rose to his feet and she handed him the blade. It was stange to hold, and it hummed in his grip, slowly getting lighter and smaller until it suited him perfectly. He watched in awe.

“Come now, Ser Flynn, my little knight, lets go to my castle,” she commanded, and he knew it was a command, he could feel it.

He followed, transfixed by the sway of the lantern and the shadows it cast. The trees parted and the moon shone through a single hole in the canopy, revealing a ring in the middle of the bare clearing. It was made of strange mushrooms Flynn had never seen, growing in a perfect circle.

She stepped inside, and beckoned him to d the same. He obeyed, despite a voice in the back of his head that sounded like his mother, warning him to stay, that something was amiss. It was overwhelmed by the urge to do as Lady Widow said. Flynn stepped inside of the ring, right next to his Lady. She beamed at him in approval and unconditional love. She beat down, so much taller than any person he had ever met, and embraced him.

The lantern crackled, and the mushrooms stole its light. The ground fell away into green beneath him and Lady Widow, and they vanished.

[recallingrealities]

Aligned - Chapter 8 (Zelda x Reader - NSFW)

For Chapter 1, click (here) 

Chapter 8:  Singe

When you and Zelda had enjoyed that moonlit night together - the memory felt full and quiet, spilling with magnetic attraction - it resonated between your bodies. Vibrant and vibrating; what magic had originally felt like to you, in the way you had sensed limitless as a child.

 It felt so much thicker, more vast. Beyond possible comprehension without entering it completely. This awareness arose, that you yourself: searching, identifying the electricity building between young minds as their thoughts connected across your classroom, in minutes during introductory lecture. Their identification of concepts known yet unknown, in that indescribable sensation of the everchanging present that you so adored finding recognition in.

You had not expected most of your nights to follow in this way. After the rendezvous in your office, you would have expected nearly the opposite from Zelda. Perhaps you were assuming she'd be one to hold her distance in winsome glances towards you. That the two of you would stare, amongst the witnessing presence of your Coven. Aloof, as so many things were, entranced in their community of magic. Yet, she and you, had grown in intimacy. Across the halls, past shoulders and nods, beckoned in silence for more from her. Things were shifting. You had adjusted to read her, with the way she held her stoic composure, experiencing her words, and her thoughts unspoken. 

You were sculpting in new habits of your nights proceeding dinner - in spending your evenings together. Consumed by the time that would pass, you would make your way back towards your study, and she towards her own. Moving like your life depended on the coolness of your collected composure, the stillness you felt it setting, cooling and settling between your muscles and with each and every aching step. You had to allow the excitement to shiver in bliss within your muscles fibers, awakening you rush of happiness. Otherwise you were sure you’d tremble in anticipation, unable to get much of anywhere with an aching center and a driven, heating need. It felt like the inevitable was drawing closed like the heavy velvet curtains drawn at every window when the sun held betwixt the air and  Earth. This anticipated, simple action, came swift and known in its proper unspoken timing.

 The woman would wait exactly thirty three minutes before teleporting to your door. Rather than appearing inside. She found profound pleasure in the formality of knocking - as if it was merely an excuse to cease your breath with her entrance - as it never failed to do so.

You never spoke directly about your night of passion, but the two of you would play with it, in quiet fleeting references. In toying words or the craning shapes of her body language, she would play upon it. Even in the way she would eye over your face, then hands; when sending hot embers scoring the brim of the ashtray - your skin, with her heated and wildfiring, passionate bond. It was as if she knew it erupted you in goosebumps, the ashes reflecting visions of her hot kisses charring your flesh. She would send you a smirk or a knowing look, as her hand brushed against your leg - your trembles, as if she knew it would blur you between a vision and the presently jarring reality. It made you feel… drunk. It was as if the hunt was what pleased her especially. Knowing full well you were practically hers, wading in silent bated breaths - to be caught in grip of her jaws once more. 

Tonight, that specific thought felt prolific, like foresight, but you never took stock in assuming. Assumption would be the bane of anyone's true knowing.

 You had taken up in advising the Directrix in her personal journey towards the Goddess. It felt humbling. What an honor, and to some, a bafflement that a young woman and such new member such as Y/N being illicitly chosen to advising the High Priestess, at her personal request, for guided practice.

There were ways in sculpting her that you knew would be more useful. To help her build the relationship on her own. It felt like you had done this a thousand times with yourself. In the beginning, constantly feeling yourself waver in and out of connection with the Goddess. It had only been when you realized you were the one that had lost touch, disconnected from such an eternal internally expanded force, that you felt you could reach her in an instant, as if nothing had ever happened. Nothing has been disconnected or out of reach or place at all. This was when you had felt, what you could now detect as, unconditional love, for the very first time. A love that had never left you, or stung with resentment. In a force far greater than the collection of everything, and everything in between it.

When Zelda had asked you, she had no idea where to start. She had confided in you the vulnerable expectancy of her role, but that it was not that which had urged her to ask you. It was her own sense of yearning for Lilith, for Hecate - Astarte, Inanna, Ceridwen, and the rest of the Goddess in wholeness. She was raised to expect Lucifer to present himself to her. To wait and become whatever he wanted for task or pleasure. To know her and be known in return felt ineffable. She would have never thought in her lifetime that she would move humbly towards an entity, in hopes to understand an ancient force such as the Goddess, or source of life, and existence, a boundless Source. In magic. Let alone the option; to know her personally, as a friend and confidant and living love. Zelda was beginning to see in your lessons that the Goddess, Source, was a hidden face in every tiding. A piece in everything no matter her form. The pieces in shatters always fit, the web weaved in perfect collection of all of it. 

The coven was in fact, indebted to Hecate - but Zelda's yearning to thank her entirety, beckoned, and called to her very core. 

There had been none other that came to mind, to be better in guiding her than you. You felt blessed, remembering the Goddess's words that all was as in alignment. All was as it should be - in your choosing to embrace it.

A silent shiver courses through your shifting body. You had instructed Zelda to begin writing, whatever so moved her or felt intuitively natural. You urged her to write whether it made sense in the moment, or not - wherever the inclination came from. That her intuition was a tie, and if she came to trust it, she would come to realize that her ability to commune to the Goddess was just that, listening. In choosing to embrace it.

 The redhead was already capable of prayer. It was the learning to listen that was the ticket for anyone's mastery. Of course, it can feel strange praying or writing to someone, something you do not feel you know. You suggested she write anything, even words in random that arose in her intuition - and that by writing them, she could dedicate whatever the product, to Hecate, despite satisfaction, for this was doubt. That an offering in genuineness, there could be none greater. You had explained that this was the intended act of honoring your experience: that in releasing control to the Goddess, whatever would come of it would be Aligned. Not only that, it was another form of offering - something much less conventional than the blood of a virgin or soul of the unborn. If there was anything Zelda had known about Lilith, it was her keenness for the unconventional. Something personal to this version of her, that she connected, she could resonate as personal. An attribute Zelda had become pleasantly familiar with, in her time knowing her.

She confessed, sacrifice hadn't been like that in Satanic witchcraft. This didn't require blood, or pain, or sacred items. It felt unsettling. It only required the intention that it was for her.

 "A Goddess who believes that all we desire on our own, is truly what she desires for us". 

This was a level of worthiness Y/N had mentioned recurrently, without the confession of your breathtaking awakening in the forest a few steps away - before sharing with the woman. You explained that you felt no human or witch knew how to handle such a concept, until now.

"How do you even begin to talk to someone like that..?" 

Zelda confessed one evening, bewildered that such a Deity or concept, in selflessness could exist.

 "I’ve learned that it's as much about talking - as it is about listening.

It is perfectly valid to begin with ‘I’m not sure what to say…’ and to let your thoughts flow in honesty from there. If you are ever unsure, take the time to listen. Take the point in pen hitting paper to release even the blotting smear of ink from the pen. It is the concept that you are consciously there in her presence”.

The silence seemed to stir those embers like before, except rather than in you, in herself. 

"It is within all of us" 

You comforted her, before returning her to the task of writing, the warm glow of your heat embering with the soft confident brush of your index against her forearm.

It was now, like many nights, that you read through the entries of her journal alongside her. You had insisted the first time, that you need not read it in order for it to be a valid sacrifice to the Goddess - but she had insisted in sharing the strangeness of the exploration with you. You found her words to be beautiful. Her handwriting, as smooth and sweeping, and divine as the way she entered each room and stole each gaze. Her words were unexpected, beautifully honest, and vulnerable. Shaken like the trembles responding to her voice and will. It was in reading her dedications, that you felt for the first time, your heart pang in adoring admiration, for anyone aside from Source herself.

Tonight as you were reading, as you had forsought - her lips met your heartbeats in the nape of your craning neck. You had grown so lost in her words that the impact of her warm flesh had startled you - like a snapping twig in the silent wood outside the Academy's grounds. Your body trembles like layered leaves, interrupted by her gust of wind, lifting up and guiding your movement towards her figure. You feel yourself sway and mark the page with your index as her fingers now clasped your cheek, leaning into it as the tides lean towards the moon. Natural. Surrender. You feel it deep within you and remember that by embracing your experience, as the Goddess had prompted you before, was a way you could honor both her and yourself, in utter pleasure… and desire.

"Z- elda…" you swallow breathlessly, not wanting her to stop as your heart flutters helplessly in your throat. You witness your tangled muscles relaxing at her touch, as your voice returns faltering at the preface of your lips "these entries are stunning"

The redhead lifts her mouth towards your ear, and the tenderness of your flesh shivers beneath it with careful urgency.

"As are you, little seer"

You feel your hands lift the book towards your desk, before releasing it on its surface to turn yourself quickly towards her. Your heart patters in racing tandem to the sudden burst of rain tapping rhythmically at your windows pane.

You turn yourself to face her before meeting your hands to hers, resting on your cheeks before pulling her into a swelling kiss. The way her hips press against you, brings you to sudden awareness of the natural rhythm in the way you moved together. The braiding together of instances in harmony, the progression of the prior lessons collecting towards this very  moment, in apex - like the building of each rain cloud, erupting in release over Greendale.

 You turn, she moves. You press, she shifts. It was as if every movement was as synchronized as the pendulum on the grandfather clock, well tuned and cadenced in its natural precession. The goosebumps you had felt before were now spread across your entire form as your body shivered against her touch. The collecting swells of the raindrops met as the touch of her palm. One of her hands immediately shifts to support the small of your back, which trembles and softens against it. The base of her palm meets your flesh, gentle, yet firm, warm and reassuring as she slips effortlessly beneath your blouse. Taking you in another breathless kiss. Her lips part, to allow her tongue to request meeting your craven taste on her pallet. It was clear to you more than ever, that she had wanted you. This every moment she spent with you beneath her gaze had been that of undeniable desire, and building pressure. 'Of…. course', you think to yourself, but in just the manners of her movement, you now know for certain.

"I think that's enough lessons for tonight" 

Zelda's voice mulls softly, as her words feed into the vibration building at your teeth. You can't help but moan as your lips meet her shoulder in nipping, mewing desperation. Your hands pull needingly to have her closer to you, your whimpers in guiding gasps before your palms meet her breasts, clasping with a secured certainty that the trembling had seemed to release. Beckoning, your lips whisper a few words against her skin before she suddenly falls deep into your bed. The mix of desire between you both teleports you without notice to the safety of your quarters. The weight of your push and the sudden shift in location knocking her off her feet into the pillowing plush of crushed velvet. You climb it's preface, drifting to straddle on top of her, far more forward than encounters before. You press your lips to the seam of her blouse, aching her to remove it in the swiftness of her own enthralled passion. Seeing her sprawled across your bed, shifts a knowing in you. Your heartbeats together panged in your ears, your jaw guided in hungry kisses to meet her accented collar bones. Their beauty is like porcelain sweeping to meet her sculpted breasts. Her breaths rising and falling erratically, draw you closer into the nest of her arms. Pulling your weight towards her, you feel your legs tangle, aligned with the meeting and sharp pressure of your clits connecting. 

The shock.

 The connection is prevalent, like lighting's fire - tangible in the release of her harmonious moans linking with your own. Your desire so tangible, Zelda can hardly feel embarrassed with the rouge rising in her face. Her hands pull you close towards her hips, urging you to grind against her and provide little relief towards your building passion. Your kisses begin to grow as they travel across, and down each breast. Your hungering wetness, dampening her skin. With your breathless moans tracing her - Zelda is caught completely off guard and vulnerable the moment your soft lips draw, to bite her. Her pale breast purpling beneath your sucking lips, she gasped, in delicious ecstasy. The gorgeous yearning that devours her, tearing at the peak of her need for you. Zelda's skin rippled in goosebumps as her exposed abdomen tightens, a smirk attending to your hunger's liking. You find yourself growing far more exposed and domineering with her than ever before - and you can tell how completely off guard she has become, finding herself whimpering against your confident smirk. 

What a shift.

You had never imagined you'd hear her whimper. The woman who seduced you with growing need, using just her eyes to send electricity through you, was beginning to tremble. Her fingers gripping your back, your teeth assist in removing and unclasping her lace bralette. Nothing with her was as you'd expected, you find yourself even more satisfied with the result unfurling before your eyes, her breasts spilling over, gaze hungering and desperate for your thighs movements up to grind against her precious heat.

Abridged and supported by her crying, frustrated moans, you remove her bra with a keenness, causing it to flutter against the dresser's surface, across the room from the two of you. The mirror reflecting your candlit bodies, she unzips the back of your dress, your swift, defiant movements pulling her delicate fingers away from the zipper as your lips take her breast in peaking proposal. Your tongue flits her nipple, the warm dampness of your tongue beckoning her to arch against it, as you take her sweet flesh into the hold of your mouth. Suckling in pleasurable hunger, your thigh draws down her covered core with gruesome, fracturing friction. You find the lace of her panties fits in perfect contrast to the soft ageless touch of your skin against her. The firm pressure in contrast to the delicate flesh that scathed her form, drawing her breaths inward - her energy enveloping you in gorgeous enthrall to pull you as close to her as your bodies can bare. You shift your mouth in time with her breaths, drawing inward towards the honest wetness of her fabric, closing in on her. 

It is only then, that you pause for a brief moment to touch her thigh, your breath warm and tangible against her, your l fingertips, tweaking her nipple, sucking deeper to pull her breasts fullness towards your mouth. Her gasping moans echo your chambers as if they had longed to reverberate her sound.

The pleasure you feel in unbelievable, your own heat gasping in needing waves as you grind just as needily against the mattress in return to the response of her bucking mound.

It is then, that she flips you, your lips a moment away from capturing her craving heat. You are shocked, by the power burning within her. Her eyes are sharp and daggering, your dress splitting open as she lifts your hips to plunge her fingers into your dripping cunt. Dazed, your mouth trembles - unable to utter the "FUCK"  sitting gutteral in your throat, her firm graising thumb streaking from your entrance to your clitoris. Her fingers spread then curl inside you, before her free hand grounds firmly next to your ear. You can feel your waves of panting met only by the slapping wetness of her palm at your core, her curling fingers pushing you quickly towards a blistering climax. 'So… soon…' you think, contracting her cunt against the pressure of her relentless fingers. It is now that your eyes meet hers, her needing eyes connecting to a depth within you never searched. The moans spilling from your lips in tongues unfamiliar. Your desperate hands grip the sheets and wrist at your crown, grinding back in restless tides. Your jaw tightens with baited breath, using everything in you not to come immediately. It is then that gloss covers your sweet dark eyes, erupting you in waves of pleasure as you spill out uncontrollably across her fingers. 

Zelda licks her lips, pleased, and surprised at your body's response, slowing her thrusts to meet her upper lip to your bud, sliding her tongue between her digits inside, to taste you.

Her moan is earth shattering. The way it echoes up inside you enough to make you burn with intensity, in sensuous waves as your hips meet her to ride out your orgasm.

[youwontlikethisblog]

She's Ugly!

In a previous post I briefly touch on the subject of Armando and his belief of love. Here I will be going into more detail on my personal experiences as a writer who has written complex OC's with a very similar nature to that of Armando. I will be talking about some pretty heavy topics here so this is your warning if they make you uncomfortable or trigger you.

As a writer you spend most of your time doing research. You don't really spend it writing as more than 75% of the time is dedicated to researching the entirety of your story and it's characters. That means you research on mental health, social behaviors, addictions, learned behavior, coping mechanisms, ect... to create an authentic and realistic character.

When I was doing research for my OC, based on the past I wrote for them I had to look into the consequences that it carried into adulthood. I had to do a lot of research on coping mechanism and seggs addiction(I write really sad characters um but that's besides the point. Also try explaining your search history when you've got tabs and tabs about centers that deal with that addiction and so on).

[Below this I will talk about Seggsual Addiction and such. if it makes you uncomfortable skip to the next [RED]].

Doing that research I found out that many people who do have that addiction often use it as a form of escapism, control, or due to a lot more severe trauma. Sometimes it's just the feeling you get from that. Some have this addiction because of low self-esteem, feelings of worthlessness, and also because it's something they can control, or at the very least in their denial stage they believe that they can.

Seggs Addiction is when someone cannot function without it. When it becomes a problem in that person's life and ruins friendships, relationships, and their professional life. It can range from content watching to actual action of the addiction. This is a serious problem as it often leaves the people feeling helpless, dirty, lowers the quality of life and they feel a lot of shame due to it and it's something that they need professional help to be able to control and overcome, just like drug addiction.

[Now I will be talking about Armando and why this relates to this breakdown. You may proceed.]

Do I believe Armando has that? Not necessarily. I am not a professional so I cannot diagnose someone with that. I just know a lot about the subject because I had to do research on the topic in the past.

Armando is a complex character. The reason I bring this up is because he does show traits of it. Do his affairs get in the way of his professional life? Somewhat. Does it ruin friendships? Yes. Does it ruin relationships? Yes, mainly his.

We know Armando has had an array of women in his life. He is desired by a lot of women(I seriously do however believe that Mario is a s. addict).

I've thought about this part of his character for a while. I really don't know what Fernando Gaitan researched or what inspired him to write Armando's character so this is really just my own personal speculation and is not a fact of the show.

From the start we are told that Armando is a man with refined taste and high standards for his women. The secretaries tells this to Betty, if I'm not mistaken Marcela mentioned it once, and Mario tells him all the time.

A poster here in the tag made a post about the situation of Mario and Aura Maria and they did a really good job at breaking down this side of Armando; that he doesn't have a refined taste or high standards for women but rather he doesn't like involving himself with women who are not in the same social statues and circles as him because of the abuse of power that it entitles.

When he told Mario he wanted to fire Claudia for being crazy Mario reminded him of what he told him when he wanted Armando to fire Aura Maria and because of that Armando decides not to personally fire Claudia, it wasn't until Marcela asked for her head that he asked Hugo to fire her.

Now let me step away from the story and explain why I have this speculation.

Armando's parents aren't very active in his life. They're only there when it comes to the company or his relationship with Marcela(I already talked about his parents in The Art of Subtly in YSBLF post) now imagine that as you're growing up. That your parents aren't actively in your life unless you're achieving or accomplishing something. We know Armando has a sister that doesn't talk to their parents and is only in contact with him. That their mother possibly ruined her marriage to a man because he was poor. This tells us that his parents aren't the best.

A child who grows up having to overcompensate and over achieve grows up with low self-esteem, feelings of worthlessness, and other problems. They grow up believing that the only way they are worthy of love is by being perfect and they become obsessed with achieving perfection.

Due to this upbringing Armando is a control freak, neurotic, egocentric, and obsessed with perfection. He gets stressed out when things don't go his way. He has grown up in the fashion world and beauty has been fed to him that it is tall, thin, and above all has to be perfect.

A child is a product of their environment.

This has molded Armando into the person he is today.

On top of that Armando basically has his entire life planned out by his parents as a child who grew up hearing about the desire for him to be with Marcela to honor his parents best friends, for the good of the company, ect.

To receive his parents love he must do what his parents tell him, no exceptions. He must be the best at everything so he always aims high. In his proposal to be president he did exactly that.

Ironically Armando too is a people pleaser and feels like he has little to no control over his destiny.

So flings with Models become a form to cope. Though for a long time he enjoys those flings and what it entitles as it makes him feel good about himself, he is able to decide who he has a fling with but then it no longer is that.

My OC's addiction is driven by the desire of feeling wanted and needed. It boost her self-esteem though when it's over with she feels empty and hollow inside and we get a scene of Armando expressing those exact feelings to Mario the night he meets Ms. Colombia.

As they are leaving the cocktail Mario is upset that he[Armando] was leaving because he was so close to closing in on Ms. Colombia being his next conquest and that he couldn't change her for Marcela, who was always going to be there. Armando goes to explain something to him. He tells him that though at first he does get excited over the women and he does want to sleep with them that as soon as it's over he feels nothing anymore, that he doesn't enjoy it anymore.

This is part of a cycle and we see that.

Armando, before Betty, has the idea that if he falls in love it will be with a physically perfect woman who knows where she's standing and the only person that is like that is Marcela. He's got three reasons to marry her: He wanted her vote, his parents, and because she's what is mentioned above.

When Betty is introduce into his life she isn't what he expects in his dream woman. He expects perfection in a physical sense. However Betty has everything he wants in his dream woman in substance and personality.

He knows he likes Betty's personality but because she isn't physically perfect, he believes he isn't interested in her or attracted to her but because he likes her personality so much he believes he's entitled to her which is what drives his jealousy, it is not love.

Armando isn't in love with Betty here or at least not yet.

Betty embodies everything he wants and desires in a woman. She is humble, kind, respectful, unconditional, faithful, smart, like really smart and he likes that about her a lot, submissive and selfless.

However because the package isn't what he thinks is perfect, he cancels out. He denies that he likes her and he denies that he cares about her because of it.

So when Mario suggest for Armando to make Betty fall in love, Armando is apprehensive and disgusted by it.

Let's be honest, Betty isn't ugly! She's adorable! I will fight anyone who disagrees with this. Betty is cute and has always been cute.

I have spoken about Armando's emotional confusion a lot in the past few days but I haven't spoken about the mechanics of the confusion he is dealing with.

Denial is a strong defense mechanism. Subconsciously he has feelings for Betty and is attracted to her because of her personality but consciously he isn't. The mystery of the mind is never ending.

sub·con·scious /səbˈkänSHəs/

adjective of or concerning the part of the mind of which one is not fully aware but which influences one's actions and feelings. "my subconscious fear"

Armando's behavior towards finding out that Betty is in love has been dominated by his subconscious. However when it comes to facing those feelings he enters denial, therefore he cannot fathom the idea of ever being involved with someone so "ugly".

con·scious /ˈkän(t)SHəs/

adjective aware of and responding to one's surroundings; awake.

Armando is aware that Betty isn't his ideal of the type of women he is physically attracted to. He is aware the she isn't the standard of beauty.

Due to this he is refusing to listen to Mario.

Now that we understand this we can continue with the episode breakdown.

After Betty leaves, Armando is upset because Nicolas is the General Manager of Terra Moda(it feeds his paranoia talked about in the Betty, My Betty Part 3 post) .

Once again Armando and Mario switch roles. Armando is now aware of his conscious desires and he's sticking by them. Mario however is aware of Armando's subconscious desires.

Mario tries to level with him. He tells him that they can tell Betty to fire him but Armando rejects that by telling him that he does a good job and that Betty says he's important for Terra Moda, therefore Eco Moda, again this shows that Armando doesn't distrust of them in a professional sense. So they both agree that they shouldn't tell Betty to fire him. Mario first suggested that they reverse the seizure against Eco Moda and Armando goes on to reject that and explain why they can't do that. So Mario tells Armando that they need to think of something because it is a business deal involving them three; Armando, Himself, and Betty.

They agree that asking Betty to fire or take away so much responsibility from Nic could give way to Betty becoming hostile and resentful. Mario tells him that it would also be unfair since she's always been so unconditional with the both, Armando agrees.

We get to divides here. Two sides of the nickel.

Mario's priority and main concern is keeping Eco Moda and Armando as president for what it gives him.

Armando's priority is Betty's love life(Why else would he be so worried about her love life? A normal boss wouldn't care about your love life. Armando knows that Betty is a good and trustworthy employee and he said so himself).

Mario as always watched Armando carefully. The third and best option would have been to simply talk to Betty and be professionals and leave things alone and not doing anything about Betty's love life.

Mario tells Armando "Well the best option is to make Betty fall in love with you."

Armando goes on to say that he would never do that because he doesn't have the desire to and doesn't want to because Betty is ugly(this is why I said what I did above). Mario stops using the fear of losing Eco Moda and goes for the emotional because he knows that it will affect Armando's subconscious that will dominate him like it had been all day long.

"You're the perfect candidate because if it weren't for Nicolas showing up, I could have sworn she was in love with you. No, seriously, look at the way she looks at you, she's always been unconditional with you(he knows this is one of the qualities that Armando likes about Betty as he always lists it). My friend, if there's anyone that is capable of fighting against Nicolas Mora, it's the president of Eco Moda(here he is appealing to Armando's ego)."

What does Mario get out of all of this? Reputation in tact which allows him to continue living his best single life, which he said himself is his most prized possession. So it is important to him that Armando does whatever it takes to keep Betty from doing anything to get a husband(post Betty, My Betty! Part 3).

Fast forward Armando is in Marcela's apartment after the new collection launch and they're fighting because Armando let Betty into the event.

He not only defends his decision of inviting her as his guest but Betty's job and her role in the new collection. Marcela scoffs and they continue to argue.

What captured my attention though is that Armando tells Marcela that she can't be in a competing so absurd with a woman like Betty and shouldn't be in a feminine competition with her.

Armando is now go to the otherside of the room so we get his back as Marcela starts to speak ("You're wrong Armando I don't view her as a woman")and as she says "I am offended that you would think I feel she's a feminine competition-" Armando now looks at her confused.

Either he is confused because he doesn't understand what Marcela is trying to say or once again his subconscious is dominating him here.

The takeaway is that in Armando's mind Betty is a woman, ugly, but a woman nonetheless. He is confused as to why Marcela doesn't view her as a woman but still behaves the way she does.

We again get a classic scene of Betty writing in her diary as we hear her dialogue and get scenes of Armando in Marcela's bed.

We see Armando thinking about what Mario told him earlier that night.

When Mario told him that he would've sworm that Betty was in love with him[Armando] in that scene we didn't really get a reaction from him. He had a poke face but here, as he is thinking about it all he has a different look.

We stop getting a visual flashback, only an auditory one after Mario told him "I could've sworn she was in love with you." and the frame we're getting is Armando's face while laying in bed. He seems hopeful. The exact same expression he had when Betty told him that she didn't have anything with Nicolas.

We hear Mario's voice when he told him "If there's anyone who can fight Nicolas for Betty's love, it's the president of Eco Moda." Armando shifts in bed and covers his face. We then fade to Betty asleep on her bed and get another fade to Armando, this allows us to know that they are about to have another shared dream.

Armando is the mvp of this dream ss the camera focuses on him right away.

He seems happy in this dream as he runs around with Betty in a field with bright green grass and trees. He continues turns to look at Betty or allows Betty to lead him. Then in the dream Betty disappears and Armando is left alone, searching around him with a scared expression on his face until Betty finally appears in front of him. She nears him with her lips slightly puckered and Armando smiles and as well moves in closer until Betty runs away from him again.

The dreams shows us this two more times where Betty runs from him until the final time when Armando finds her and they near for a kiss we then get a real world Armando in bed shaking his head mumbling no, we can assume they are kissing in the dream.

This foretells what is to come. In Betty's eyes this is a good dream but we also know that due to her past Betty is afraid to love again which we're told this by her constant running away from Armando in the dream.

Armando's fear is brought to light in this dream that is of him losing Betty as it reoccurs more than once and each time he goes out to find her. There is times when he does want to kiss her but Betty pulls away and runs and then on the final one he becomes conscious in his dream(yes that happens, it's called lucid dreaming and sometimes it randomly happens).

The fact we kept getting fades from both Armando and Betty sleeping lets us know this was a dream simontainsly happening at the same time and it isn't until after they actually kiss that Armando's conscious starts to wake him up.

Marcela then finishes waking him up in the real world and asks Armando what he was dreaming, he tells her a horrible nightmare.

Again, Armando is aware that he doesn't find Betty to be his ideal perfect woman or the beauty standard. You know, she's "ugly" so having something physical even in a dream is a nightmare to him. The thing to take note of is that he was enjoying the beginning of that dream and it demonstrates his subconscious feelings.

We already Betty loved that dream.

The next morning Marcela mentions that if he doesn't talk about the dream he must secretly want it to come true.

His coping mechanism towards this entire situation has been denial. It protects him from having to face his true feelings and fears. It protects him from something he isn't ready to deal with yet.

He starts choking on his juice and coughing as Marcela watches him.

Marcela telling him this pushes him to face those fears of his, the fear that he does like Betty and that he does care about her more than just his employee however again, he is in denial therefore unable to understand this.

[You know I will write a post about how Aura Maria and Freddy are a parallel of Betty and Armando.]

Neither Betty or Armando talk about their dream to anyone, or at least the real content of said dream, which based on what Marcela insinuated, Armando secretly wants that dream to come true.

This is a fact because later on when Armando has that nightmare of Betty making out with Nicolas inside the new car they got, he tells Marcela about the nightmare or at least some distorted version of it, because he doesn't want that nightmare to come true. This time though he doesn't talk about it.

Betty clarifies the situation between Nicola and her roll in Terra Moda and Armando thanks her for it.

When she goes into her office Armando tells Mario that he's right about making Betty fall in love.

This next scene I already broke down in another post. Armando suggest Mario for the job because he knows that Mario would never fall in love with Betty but at least it would secure the company. However since Mario would never fall in love with Betty that would mean that he wouldn't have competition since you know these two pigs share everything.

Not only that but it would mean that he gets to avoid and deny his feelings without the worry of Nicolas and Betty ending up together and Nicolas turning her against him.

Armando tells Mario that he gets that it's the more logical thing that he[Armando] is the one to make Betty fall in love but that it's not morally correct.

He gets angry as he tells him that he can't do that to her, a woman who has been very special to him, too special towards him. Again this shows that Armando takes notice and likes that Betty treats him the way she does and because of that he doesn't want to hurt her and he knows that she doesn't deserve that.

However Mario then pulls the "your parents will be so disappointed and angry at you if you lose the company. So do you have to decide whether you'll be a rat to your parents or Betty."

As they discuss the sinister plan they solely based the problem in the physicality. As Armando even said himself the only bad thing about the plan was that Betty was ugly. If Betty wasn't ugly Armando wouldn't be afraid to face his feelings therefore be upfront about them.

However because she is it clashes with all his other traits. His ego, vanity, obsession with perfection and the fact he was unable to be in control over who he ends up falling in love with or liking.

I don't know what worse, Armando knowing how selfish the plan is against Betty and still going along with the it for the sake of the company and his unwillingness to admit to his parents that he was wrong or Mario knowing exactly what's going and how to manipulate Armando to do this and not caring about his best friends feelings and the guilt he will carry on as long as Armando remains president for his own greed.

In the next post I will breakdown the scene in which Armando drunkenly confesses somewhat his very confused feelings.

'Til next time :)

Ps. Sorry for all this typos! I'm an insomniac so I usually write these sleep deprived lol.

[cdyssey]

Finished the first four eps of S7 and these are my big thoughts!

Grace and Frankie’s unadulterated and selfless loyalty and love for each other was on full display in these four episodes, and that alone makes me so excited for the rest of S7. God, when Frankie said she would make up a holiday just to spend it with Grace, I TEARED UP. And I really appreciated how the one minor conflict that they had was resolved so quickly??? It’s a small thing, but it shows how much their relationship has grown over the past years. They’ve been through hell and back together, and now they can and want to resolve small disputes between themselves as soon as possible because they know that being on the same page is better.

I really want to know where the writers are going with Grace and Frankie’s relationship, lol. Like, Grace’s perfect marriage is her husband being imprisoned in jail, so she only has to visit him for one hour a day, and any imposition he makes to to the home she shares with Frankie is unwelcome. Like, what WKSKSKNSJS???? And the fact that everyone and their cousins, including Frankie (!!), was like Grace, do you not care that your hubby is in jail? AJSJSJSN.

I hated the money laundering plot. It def felt forced. I would have much rather Nick’s couch money been an unquestioned deus ex machina as opposed to watch G&F being embarrassingly bad at breaking the law, lmao.

Similarly, the whole arraignment scene was a bit over the top for me, especially with the judge breaking decorum to grill Grace about her marital life. I do like how we got to see Grace be incredibly vulnerable and specific about her needs, though; she doesn’t want a traditional marriage, and she doesn’t want to be defined by equally traditional labels. This sort of clear-eyed and self-aware declaration would have been impossible for S1 Grace!!

I tend to roll my eyes at at least one Hanson-Bergstein kid per story arc, and this one it’s honestly been Brianna. She’s mostly been my favorite of the four, but her cruelty in these past episodes, especially to Barry, seems a little bit regressive. And surprisingly, I was really moved by Coyote’s story, especially with the frank conversation he had about his lucky coin. It felt earnest and sincere in the way the best G&F stories are!

Overall: A bit of an uneven opening, but I’m still incredibly excited for the rest of everything G&F has to offer. These four episodes showed me that the writers still fully understand the most important part of this show—that at the end of the day, it comes down to Grace and Frankie and their unconventional but unconditional love for each other. And if that never gets forgotten, then I’m perfectly happy. At any rate, it just felt so damn good to be in Grace and Frankie’s crazy world again. I’ve missed them so much.

[lavendertwilight89]

InuxKag Week 2020 Day 1--Acceptance

Reflection

@inukag-week @superpixie42 @lemonlushff @dangerouspompadour @keichanz @cstormsinukagblog @willowandfog @inuyashaloverforever @xfangheartx @clearwillow  @umacaking​ @procellaxletalis​ @smmahamazing​ @murdergiraffe​ @faulkner-blog​ @sapphirestarxx​@swaggingtomboy​

Day 1--Acceptance

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Staring down at his wife… his wife… Inuyasha reflected on his long life. The first ten years he lived with her mother. She loved him with all her heart. Accepted him, cherished him, made him feel loved even though the entire world hated him.

When she died, she begged him to live. Begged him to carry on without her. She knew he would one day meet someone who would accept him for who he was. She made him promise to fight. To live. What could he do? He had to promise her. He wanted her to rest in peace, not in turmoil…

For the first hundred and fifty years he spent without his mother, he ran. No one loved him. No one accepted him. He was a filthy disgusting half-breed. His own asshole brother wouldn’t even take him in; he cast him aside stating the only relation was the blood of their father that ran through his tainted veins…

Every second, minute, day, week, month, and year that passed, he regretted he had ever promised his mother he would fight to survive. Years stretched into decades, decades into a century. Eventually, he learned of the Jewel of Four Souls and he thought then, just maybe, he found a way to fit in. He could finally be accepted by his brother. He could finally be respected by other demons because he was his father’s son—a full blooded demon that would live up to his father’s legacy. He could finally not be chased out of villages because he would have no desire to be around humans. He’d finally find a place where he belonged…

But Kikyo stood in the way of all that. She kept stopping him, pinning him to trees, chasing him off, standing in his way of being accepted and then she wouldn’t even fucking finish the job. He never made it a point to kill humans if he didn’t have to, but that woman—she drove him insane!

Then they talked… and he finally thought maybe, just maybe he found someone who accepted him. At least as a friend, a companion. But he fell in love with her. The only human to really make him feel like he was an actual being of intelligence since his mother died. After they had spent time together, she offered him the jewel… to become human so she could live a normal life. So that they could live a normal life—together.

While he really didn’t want to become human, he wanted to be accepted. Loved. And he couldn’t have that kind of relationship as a dirty half-breed. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He fell in love with the kind priestess who was trying to give him a chance at a normal life. What could he do other than accept? He held Kikyo that evening… swearing to never let go. He would be willing to change into a human to be with her. To belong. To be a part of something.

Then they had been tricked. Made to hate each other. It only made him think and realize how untrustworthy they both had been—how foolish they had been to just jump into such a commitment. He had been sealed to the tree, and Kikyo had died. To be fair, he only knew that Kikyo had betrayed him at the time. But he was back to where he started; trust no one. He needed the jewel to become a full demon. He didn’t need to love. He just needed to belong even if that meant he was alone as a full demon.

Awoken fifty years later by some immature idiotic girl who resembled the woman he had once loved and had betrayed him was a rude awakening. She needed help and she also happened to be the only one who could free him. Whatever. It came down to two birds and one stone. He was freed, killed the centipede, and then the jewel was right there for the taking—but then that dumb bitch collared him. Didn’t even realize what the hell it even meant! Or even how the spell worked! He was bound to a complete idiot!

He figured he just had to hang around and wait for her to be distracted so he could get the jewel. Kikyo proved to him that no one would ever care for him as a human—he would still be known as a dirty half-breed. Obviously even if he had become human for her, she had planned on betraying him.

The villagers still didn’t accept him even with the beads and the old hag, Kikyo’s younger sister, seemed only to trust him as far as she could throw him. She had faith that Kikyo’s dumb necklace would hold him in his place. Then that girl… Kagome—she—she was fucking weird!

She brought him food, sat with him, talked to him, asked him questions, tolerated his attitude and even shot it back to him without even a second thought. It was crazy. He had literally just tried to kill her and she held no ounce of fear of him. She treated him just like another person. It was off putting. So, he sat and waited for betrayal from her; he had to wait until he could grab the jewel for himself. Well, that was the plan until the idiot shattered it. Then he had to tag team with her. A weak little human who was the only one who could the stupid jewel shards. He almost preferred to be sealed to the tree. He knew they hated each other. She had gone home to leave his ass behind.

But she surprised him. She came back when it became apparent her family was in danger. Not only that, but she actually tried to fight, and she had actually saved his head—literally—from Yura. He took a couple swipes of the sword from the hair demon, but she found the skull and killed her. Then it was the un-mother; she had chased after her and was able to get him away from the ogre. The thunder brothers—she grabbed the Tessaiga for him. Though she kinda fucked up and dropped it, she still tried to help him. She shot her arrow at Hiten so he couldn’t have the high ground. It was odd having someone try to help him.

Their encounter with them made him realize how much he cared about her. As a friend. He had grown so close to her in the short time they had been together. She had shared food with him, space, actually tried to tend to his wounds she thought he still had; he couldn’t lose her… He had been alone for so long and it actually dawned on him how little he and Kikyo knew each other. The time he spent with Kagome had become addicting and he didn’t ever want to be without it. He craved that acceptance she gave him. It was so unconditional and unexpected.

Then she learned about his weakness. The night of the new moon. She was hurt he didn’t trust her. “After everything they had been through,” she said. She didn’t even care he was human. She was upset she didn’t know it would happen. She willingly, yet again, accepted him in his time of vulnerability.

But they fucked up—he had to go back to get the jewel shards she had forgotten in the temple and she followed him like the idiot she was. She cried for him and yet again, saved him. Doing things she didn’t have to do, doing things out of selflessness, proving to him over and over how she saw him as a person. All because she accepted him.

After that encounter, he forgot about the wall he put up and almost kissed her. It was an impulse decision to prove to her he saw her for her, that he cared about her, that he didn’t think about Kikyo when he saw her. They were so different. He only thought about her and in all honesty, it scared the fuck outta him.

When she shoved him away, he originally fretted it was out of disgust. He knew he fucked up so he backed off. Heavily. Went back to being a straight up asshole. Yet somehow, she ended up tolerating him anyway. She still chose to stay with him over a monk. A freaking powerful monk, while he a pervert, he was someone who held some kind of virtue, humanity, he wasn’t tainted half-breed. He wasn’t looking for the jewel for power or for selfish reasons… and yet, she still chose to stick with him. She offered the monk to join them, not the other way around. Even after how he had been treating her. It fucking blew his mind.

It got to the point where he was too scared how much he needed her. His bastard of a brother almost killed them. He knew the battle with Naraku would only be that much worse so he did the only thing he could do—he sent her home. What shocked him was her ability to get back, how she was somehow able to claw her way through the well and then of all thing she did when she got back, was embrace him. Him. His disgusting half-breed self. Still bloody from his previous injuries in that weird beautiful dress she wore. She yelled at him for dismissing her, for making her worry… How could this woman accept him like that? The least he could do was admit to her that he knew needed her. Thankfully to her, it seemed like that was enough.

Fast forward past the Kikyo encounters, finding Sango, which only proved to him her loyalty and acceptance toward him more, to when his sword broke and he became a full demon for the first time. His body had felt like it was on fire. He craved more death and destruction. He needed blood to be drenched on his fingers, embedded in his claws and then she approached him… like a deer stupidly approaching a wolf. A hunter and its prey. Snarling, he told her to stay away, fearing deep down what he would do—what he desired to do. Knowing he would likely kill her for the thrill of it. But she pressed on until she was directly in front of him, showing no fear, showing him concern of all things. Even their friends warned her not to approach him, shouting her name, begging her to stay away.

Then she sat him and he was back to his normal self. Engulfed in her embrace. She drove him crazy. He didn’t understand her. Not one bit. He would have killed her. He warned her. But she still accepted him.

When she caught him with Kikyo he thought it was all over. He couldn’t ask her to be by his side while he had proclaimed that he would protect Kikyo from Naraku. For whatever reason when it came to Kikyo, Kagome got weird. Angry. He didn’t understand why she acted like that but, he could see the hurt and fear on her face as she ran from him.

Their friends bullied him into finally going to see her, to collect the shards, apologize… and there she was. Sitting on the well. Waiting for him. Asking to stay with him. Saying she had a desire to be with him and that she knew she couldn’t ask him to forget about Kikyo. Of all the things he thought she’d say, he never once though she would ask to be able to stay by his side, let alone take his hand and lead him back to the village.

After he slaughtered human bandits, she still embraced him.

After he saw her naked in the peach man’s house, she wore his bloody kimono without hesitation.

After he attacked Miroku and then clawed her arms inside of Kaguya’s castle, she kissed him. She said she loved him as a half-demon… Him. A half-breed.

After they nearly were killed by Mukotsu’s poison, she remained by his side instead of going with Koga or even leaving to go with Sango and Miroku as they made their way up the mountain.

After he nearly lost her because her soul was jealous of Kikyo, she stayed with him and accepted he would likely chase Kikyo again. She admitted in the heat of the moment she loved him. Not as a half-demon, but that she loved him. Inuyasha.

His idiotic self finally got it. She cared about him. She loved him. She accepted him. Not just his human half like Kikyo had, all of him. She stuck by him through his demon transformations and helped him guide himself back to her. She defended him when he lost his powers. She stood by him like there wasn’t even another option.

Then what fucking killed him was once he finally got up the courage to basically proclaim his life for her, out loud, no strings attached, more or less proposing to her… he lost her. The jewel took her from him.

But she was safe. She was with her family. He still had their friends. Friends he made because of her—but they accepted him as well. They were their own little pack. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen if he lost them but he knew that Kagome was safe. That was all that mattered.

After three years, she surprised him again. He was floored. She gave up her life with her family. Friends. All her future modern conveniences… for him. Him.

Their first night when she returned had been spent talking. Something she knew he wasn’t overly great at, but after three years of not seeing her, smelling her, he found himself feeling just like he would on his human nights—unable to reign in his emotions. But it was likely a good thing. They were able to confess their feelings, their desires, their love. They planned their wedding. Their future. Everything.

It had been almost a year since then. It made him think back on the moments and memories that brought him to where he was—looking down at his beautiful wife who was holding their newborn son—Touga as she fed him. His arms were securely wrapped around his little family. 

From his fight for survival, his first broken heart, and the adventures he went on with his friends, he had no idea how it granted him this beautiful, kind, caring woman that defied time, space, and all logic to heal him and gave him everything he never thought he could have and needed. Family. Acceptance.  

[pollenallergie]

Spoils of Love

A/N: I wrote this really quickly a couple nights ago at like midnight because I wanted to write it down before I forgot it. It’s short and probably not the best in terms of grammar and sentence/paragraph structure, but I’m still proud of it. Also, side note, Sugarbaby!Reader x Roman is definitely a new obsession of mine. I would like to maybe make a series of oneshots and blurbs about it based on requests like ill-skillsgard does for Faith x Faust and dreamtherapy did for Axel x Kitten. I know I always ask for people to send requests and stuff and its probably getting a little annoying. However, if anyone does have any Sugarbaby!Reader x Roman stuff, please send it my way!!  

Pairing: Sugarbaby!Reader x Roman Godfrey

Description: Roman loves to spoil you. One of his favorite things to buy for you with is quality lingerie. 

Warnings: mentions of sex, the world “incestuous” is used once, mature language, a tiny bit of angst (if you squint)

Word Count: yeah... uh I wrote this down in the notes app on my phone and I’m much too lazy to copy and paste it over to Word to check the word count so I have no idea what it is, sorry.

   When it comes to lingerie, Roman loves anything Art Deco, preferably silky; bonus points if it’s a dark shade of crimson, a sultry black, or, in contrast, a pure white, a delicate cream, or a pale pink. It's no secret that he prefers the finer things in life, he is rich after all. He showers you with attention and extravagant gifts; designer dresses, spontaneous weekends away in Europe, lavish lingerie, silky sleepwear, pearls and jewels galore, and just about everything and anything else a woman could dream of. You made it a point in your life to not be overly materialistic, but with Roman that was nearly impossible. He enjoyed spoiling you, whether that be with gifts, verbal praise, exquisite sex, warm cuddles, last-minute vacations abroad, his undivided attention, or all of the above. 

   Roman was rarely a selfless, loving man, but with you he found it hard not to be. After all, you had changed his life. When he’d first met you, he was a lonely, pessimistic, previously incestuous billionaire with trust issues, anger issues, and an unwanted child. Of course, most of that was at least still partially true, but he’d gotten much better. You’d unintentionally taught him that he was capable of being loved and that he deserved to be love as well as to appreciate the time he has with people rather than to push them away out of fear of them abandoning him or dying at his expense, to love his daughter despite the tragic and despicable events that brought her into this world, and to move on from his fucked up family so that he could properly enjoy his life. You’d shown him the brighter side of things and introduced him to genuine, wholesome, romantic love, and he could not be more grateful. 

   One of his favorite ways to express this gratitude to you and unconditional love for you was to whisk you away for a lavish weekend in either Paris, the city of love, or Milan, the city of fashion and elegance. These weekend trips would be filled with decadent food, afternoon shopping trips, lazy mornings in bed, the best sex of your life, and many other finer things. These trips also often resulted in numerous additions to you already massive lingerie collection. Filled with fine silks, 24 karat gold and elegant silver clasps, detailed lace and embroidery, shiny latex and pvc, soft cotton, custom-made corsets, high quality mesh and tulle, non-irritating pasties, bras and panties of all styles, numerous matching sets, many elegant individual pieces, and all other sorts of lingerie and sleepwear. It was safe to say you had far more lingerie than you did everyday clothing, not that you were complaining. 

   Roman certainly wasn’t complaining either. Coming home after a long, hard day of work to you parading around in your silky slips, camisoles, lounge shorts, and robes was one of his favorite things in the world; so was stripping you bare of your elegant lingerie so he could take you any way he wanted to. Roman also loved how much more confident you seemed to feel when wearing the lingerie he bought you, each piece seemed to accentuate the very best parts of your gorgeous form and you certainly seemed to take note of that. 

   You weren’t a vain person by any means, hell you were a fully grown adult and yet you still occasionally struggled to love and appreciate your body, but sometimes he would catch you admiring yourself in the mirror while wearing his extra special gifts for you. You’d be standing there for nearly half an hour, seemingly in awe of how good your body looked, and that right there, that made his heart swell with joy. Just knowing that you were finally seeing yourself the way he saw you, as an inexplicably beautiful, magnificent goddess of love, made everything worth it. 

[xsecretblastsx]

Could you give a review of your opinion on how Blair treated chuck while she was with dan (saying that ofc chuck would want to scheme against her and dan when he revealed that dan sent the video tape to gg, told Chuck she wasn’t in love with him, refused to help him when he asked, acted like he never did anything selfless, acted like he didn’t change as a person even tho she herself saw the change). It really frustrated me

::Long suffering sigh:: as a viewer it was sooo frustrating to watch because at the end of the day it was just Blair basically running out from everything wrong in her life by getting involved with Dan and trying to be Claire, and as such in order to keep walking that path it was easier to keep casting Chuck at the villian. So in a way the whole relationship with Dan was a waste of time that served no real purpose other than hurting Serena and Chuck. It was clear Blair needed time to deal with everything but I rather wished she had done so on her own not by jumping in a relationship and that includes Chuck.

If you think about it she acted as if he wanted to sabotage her relationship or buying her from Louis, and schemes and treating their relationship as a business transaction where mistakes he had made in the past and this time around he kept proving her wrong, he respected her wishes and by the end of the season he had been quite selfless mostly stepping to the side, something I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have being able to do had the situation been reversed with Chuck Marrying someone else infront of her and then asking her to wait her marriage out only for then to date someone else.

It's not that I imagine her being consciously thinking "i've been suffering because of you since our breakup, now is your turn" but I think in a way he did thought that and accepted it as his penance, and she didn't try to make it better because she was at a very low point, in no place ready to deal with their relationship and instead decided to go for something that kept him at arms length and most importantly allowing her to bury herself in someone else, to forget about everything that was wrong in her life not really caring if who she hurt, just focused on escaping her own pain.

I don't think she dated Dan with the specific purpose of hurting Chuck, she knew she would regardless and starting from 4x22 but particularly after Chuck's apology in 5x06 he had accepted the fact that he had 'caused her a lot of hurt and had lost her shot with her and that it was his fault, his whole attitude was as if he owed her silent suffering while she went on and be happy with someone else, and I feel to some degree she knew that but was to emotionally unstable to really grasped how much she was taking that love for granted, she rather stayed in denial and tried to see the worst in him not because she really believed that was true, but because it was what she knew and was easier than acknowledging this Chuck who was everything she ever wanted him to be and love her unconditionally.

I feel the biggest clue in regards to Blair's mindset at season 5 is what she tells Chuck's during Cece's wake, she will always loved him, but she wasn't in love with him, not in the way he needed, the way he deserved. She is in not state to offer him the same unconditional love and support, she's to overwhelmed by the mess of the marriage and the trauma of the accident, also being with Chuck means to deal with all of that for real, he's never been one to indulge her denial rather tries to get her to face reality because he knows she's stronger than her problems, and she just can't she's emotionally exhausted.

Is the twisted story of them,they hurt each other deeply, and in some ways neither of them where emotionally healthy to deal with the kind of love they felt for each other, particularly Chuck which is why up until S5 he was the one who messed it up bigger, and I feel emotionally Blair was at her most vulnerable point, and as such handled evertything with Chuck like that, and he understands that to a degree, and it'a why regardless of the pain, Chuck was ready to take her back as soon as she showed she wanted that, and I feel had he not been kicked out of BI by his dad on 5x24 they would have gotten back together there at the Empire roof, sure he told her some harsh truths about how she treated him, and not in the best way, but I think it was mostly his anger at Bart, rather than at her, and I feel this is the point where they both finally are at the same stage emotionally, and they don't hold against each other anything anymore, because that's them, and all the hurt regardless of who caused it help them grown and finally be ready.

[littlemissnellie]

and finally for brindleton bay we have a household of my own: the oakley family! as always, if you’d like to have them in your game then just check out the download link below, and if not then i hope that you enjoy finding out more about them below! 

finally free from the abuse of her husband, kiera is determined to make a good life for her and her sons, or at least do whatever she can so that they can get by. brindleton bay was the perfect little seaside town for them to escape to with its rolling fields, fresh air and disconnect from the mainland, not to mention it was where she could finally buy that rundown, rustic farmhouse she’d always dreamed of owning. and it was just rundown enough for it to be within their budget. whilst it’s still early days, she has hope that the farm will thrive one day, especially after the hours of labour she’s poured into it. thankfully her sons are more than happy to help her out with everything from chores to farm work to picking up groceries on their way home from school. sometimes she worries she’s not doing enough and more often than not she feels like a complete failure, but her sons wouldn’t have her any other way. will their new life in brindleton bay be everything they’d hoped for?

download: simfileshare

kiera oakley: 

grew up with unrelenting teasing from her peers about her birthmark and then somehow wound up in a marriage with the exact same abuse and worse - you’d think that she’d have grown a thick skin after a while, but she’s always bruised like a peach and her sensitive soul could never seem to find the strength to ignore it 

whole-heartedly believes that her sons are the best things to ever happen to her - she was in such a dark place for such a long time and sometimes feels herself slipping back when dishes pile up, or she forgets to buy groceries, or she leaves the laundry in the dryer for too long - but her boys are always there to lend a helping hand and bring a smile to her face, even in the toughest times - they gave her the strength she needed to make a better life for herself, and naturally them too

has always loved spending time outdoors, perhaps because it gives her a sense of the freedom she’d yearned after for so many years - she’s now channelling this love of nature into the farm though, it’s hard work but it’s already much more rewarding than the other crummy jobs she’d flit between in an attempt to bring home some money for her family, so it’s worth it - she’s just always worried that she’s not doing enough for them...

jacob oakley:

total mommy’s boy - he had never quite idolised his dad, but he didn’t truly start seeing the true side of him until the morning when he came downstairs and had forgotten will’s birthday, after that everything became clear: the nasty comments about mom, the disapproving looks, the shouting at the tiniest of things... it didn’t take long for jacob to despise his dad, so he couldn’t wait to pack his bags and leave that low-life behind, and besides, he didn’t need a dad when his mom was everything he could be and more

his mom’s not the best cook, especially if she’s flustered, which is most of the time, so jacob’s developed quite a talent for cooking - it’s never exactly fine cuisine due to the usually near-empty cupboards, but it certainly helps him to get creative with the meals he does come up with

his talent for high school football has landed him in a rather precarious position with the jock crowd at his new school; on one hand, he wants to stay on their good side so that he actually has a chance of staying on the team, and on the other hand, he wants to stay as far away from them as possible because they’re all douchebags that he’d rather not have knowing about his love of singing...

william oakley:

completely idolises his older brother - follows him around at every opportunity possible, whether that means pushing a cart around the grocery store instead of running to the park with his school friends or dragging bags of fertilizer down the farm track so that they can help their mom out with the planting instead of playing video games - as long as he’s spending time with his brother and following his example then he’s happy

when he’s not running around trying to copy his older brother, he’s usually playing with the family dog, Hazel - back when they lived with his dad, Hazel’s playfulness and loyalty never failed to bring a smile to his face and teaching her tricks or playing fetch in the garden was a great way to escape from all the negativity that the house was usually clouded in, so thanks to him she is almost comically well-trained

super selfless - if anyone around him needs help then he’ll drop whatever he’s doing in a heartbeat to go and help them out, but he spends so much time trying to help everyone else and be more like his older brother that...he doesn’t really know what he’s good at in his own right

hazel:

loooooves tennis balls - literally doesn’t care about any other dog toys, if it’s not fuzzy and fluorescent then she’s not interested...unless it’s the tattered duck cuddle toy that she’s had since she was a puppy that cannot leave her dog bed under any circumstances

could run around the farm all day - as soon as kiera lets her out in a morning she shoots out of the door and will skip around the fields and planter boxes until she flops - chasing after butterflies, rolling in leaf piles, hazel does it all

very loyal to her owners - she doesn’t play with many other dogs, especially now that there’s no need for her to get all of her energy out at the dog park since she has so much space on the farm, but why would she be interested by playing with other dogs when she has her favourite humans there to give her all the unconditional love she needs

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {7}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 6. Most Memorable

A/N:

Chapter 6  ⇑ ⇑ ⇑ didn’t really show up in the tags cause of the links, so I suggest you go read that first if you haven’t yet, because chapter 6-8 are all direct continuations and you don’t wanna miss out on the Helsa goodness.

7. Consequential Confidante

Hans was right, she had to stop blaming herself for everything, sometimes bad things just happen.

Correct the past in the present, not in the past we can't access. Those words stuck out to Elsa, they were a wise way of thinking about life. Focus on changing what can still be changed. She aspired to start taking those words to heart herself.

Elsa felt the shift in his hand holding hers, getting lost in her thoughts had almost made her forget she was holding it. She briefly glanced down at their hands before giving another firm squeeze.

She met his gaze accompanied by a reassuring smile. " Yes, you are doing a pretty good job correcting," she assured with a slight nod of her head.

Hans looked relieved, but he still couldn't ask for forgiveness, feeling he had not yet earned it. He just held her hand in supportive and appreciative silence for a moment.

"I just wish advice was as easy to take as it is to give. Perhaps if I listened to it, I could have avoided a lot of problems in life. But then, life wouldn't have led me here, I suppose. Perhaps it was worth it."

It was strange that he could say that, with the skin nearly flayed from his back and turned into ropy scar tissue, bandages still covering his torso, a criminal in a foreign country.

But, from his perspective: He was an undeserving wretch holding the hand of the Ice Queen of Arendelle, who could have killed him as easily as looked at him. He had survived what he was not meant to survive on multiple occasions, and now he was in a spare room of a castle, holding the Queen's hand as if they were friends, or perhaps something else.

Not to say he could do that without guilt. No, he felt the guilt every day, each as strong as the last. But she didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know how he would have sooner hanged than hear what Anna thought of him to his face, or how he thought every day about how things could or should have been different.

Perhaps it was implied in what he said: He was very bad at following his own advice.

"Life doesn't always give you want, I know that for certain, but if you're lucky it gives you what you need."

Elsa had once believed she was bound to continue living as a recluse in her own castle. The gates would be forever closed  after the coronation and everything would return to ‘normal’, because some things never change. Yet, life had a different plan.

Hans, his proposal and Anna's persistence had unknowingly become the catalyst that incidentally revealed Elsa's secret, which in turn started a chain reaction. Unfortunately the end results were Hans' treason.

Even though Elsa would never really remember all that transpired during the coronation incident fondly, she was still grateful of the doors it opened just for happening. She reconnected with her sister, finally let go, and found her freedom. It had also made other things possible that might not have happened otherwise, like Anna meeting Kristoff, the creation of Olaf, and finally; reopening the gates of Arendelle.

But just because things with Hans ended tragically during the coronation, didn’t mean they would have been better off without him, because if it weren't for him helping set off the reaction, some things might have never changed.

Elsa believed some things happened for a reason. Did she believe in destiny? Not exactly. She didn't see fate as something set in stone, but more like something that gave you opportunities, and how you use them is up to you.

"Very true." He agreed softly. He watched her as she got lost in thought, and he felt something. He wasn't sure what. Some degree of peace? Loyalty? Admiration seemed closest at the moment. He admired her beauty and her strength, her softness and her wisdom. Wisdom didn't always mean knowing everything, but accepting knowledge when it came.

"Shall I tell another story? Or have you other questions for me, Your Majesty?" He asked after a long moment, both seemingly lost in their own separate thoughts.

His questions brought her out of her thoughts. Listening to another story would be nice, she really enjoyed those a lot. Yet, there were still many unanswered questions.

There was a knotty question in particular that was eating away at her, it was probably best not to ask, for she may regret asking it for she not might like the answer, yet curiosity seemed to get the best of her.

So, against her better judgement, she dared to ask anyway.

" So, what did you really think of Anna?"

Hans thought about his response a bit.

"She's a sweet girl, a little naive, but that's not her fault. She's cute and endearing, and she needs someone who can listen to her and make sure she feels listened to. She's determined, too-- and has a right hook that could compete with my brothers." He laughed and touched his jaw, remembering that punch.

"She punched me off the boat." He laughed a little at that memory. "She's determined and wants to be taken seriously, she's impatient and excitable. If she weren't a princess I would advise she go spend some time exploring. If she got a little training and world-wise, she would be a fine pirate, I would wager." That was as much a joke as anything.

"Or are you asking my feelings for her? I consider her a good princess, and someone I wish I hadn't had to disappoint so thoroughly. I'd sooner she never see me again, if at all humanly possible."

His insight on her sister was reassuring, she was pleased that he spoke highly of her.

She wasn't exactly sure what she had been inquiring about herself, his real thoughts, feelings or maybe she just wanted to find an opening to tell him Anna was all right, after everything that happened.

" Anna was lucky to have found Kristoff then, he's a great listener."  She smiled thinking of the gentle mountain man and how much he loved her sister.

" She truly is a free spirit, and had she been a pirate she would surely have wrought some havoc," she lightly laughed.

Elsa paused and her face began to grimace.

"I wish not to disappoint her myself... I forbade her from going to see you in the dungeon afraid of what she might do..." she was worried about Anna's well-being as well as Hans' come they cross paths." I have yet to inform her you are no longer there...and I'm afraid of upsetting her."

Hans listened, and smiled a bit. "Kristoff... the big mountain man, I assume? He seemed honest. Don't think I heard two words from him, but that's the impression I got." He shrugged.

"Thank you for that. It's not the violence I fear, anything she can do to me I'll bear without a word, but it's the disappointment and anger that hurts. I don't get to feel bad about it, though. I did this to myself. Maybe I was wrong, maybe everything would have turned out fine without my being a villain, I can't know. But it was so much easier to be a villain at the time and let her be angry with me, than for 'true love's kiss' not to work and for her to be disappointed in me, or worse, herself. Maybe that makes me a coward. It wouldn't be the first time I took the coward's route." He looked down at his hands, pulling his from hers to fold them in his lap. No, He didn't feel he deserved forgiveness of any stripe.

Elsa nodded to confirm his inquiry about Kristoff.

Elsa had once again forgotten their hands were intertwined until he retracted his hand from hers, letting the warmth that once surrounded it dissipate.

She drew back her hand balling it up against her chest. Elsa pursed her lips and they both sat silently for a moment.

She took in a breath as she opened her mouth to speak.

" Anna's frozen heart will always be my fault." Even if it was by accident, and Anna had easily forgiven her, she couldn't yet forgive herself, it was a guilt that continued to consume her, she had almost killed her sister, yet again.

" I'm sorry you felt caught between a rock and a hard place, and thought you were forced to choose the lesser of two evils," she apologized, for the circumstances. " Don't get me wrong, I don't condone your actions, but I do understand them."

"But, I don't believe a 'true love's kiss' would have saved Anna regardless if you actually loved her, I don't think true love works like that," she rationalized. "I don't know much about love myself, but I believe true love is unconditional and requires time. It isn't something that just happens between two strangers overnight, like in fairy tales, I’m afraid that’s just misinterpreting infatuation, and not actually true love." She briefly paused. She would have mentioned the only unconditional love she happening overnight would be parental love, that love between parents and their newborn child, but refrained herself from doing so, realizing that not everyone is lucky enough to have parents that felt that way.

"I believe what really ended up saving Anna was...her own selflessness." Elsa's voice grew softer. "She gave up her chance of saving herself...in order to save... me." There was a slight trembling in her tone. "Her sacrifice was the act of true love... she saved herself by saving me..." She paused as she tried to gulp down the lump that had grown in her throat. Talking about Anna's Frozen Heart on the fjord was hard on Elsa, she was getting teary-eyed. She took a deep breath,to keep herself from crying. "I love Anna with all my heart...but I feel my love is selfish compared to hers," Elsa thought of how Anna had never given up on her, even after the countless times Elsa had pushed her out and shut the door in her face. Elsa didn't think she was strong enough to endure that same pain Anna had without giving up hope.

" I can't think of any other way...we would all be here today...had you...had things not..." She clenched her fist tighter and inhaled again.

" We can never know for sure...how things would have played out differently. But, like you yourself said in the throne room, and I also believe, it was a rather-- miraculous outcome, to say the least."

"If you think yourself a coward, that makes me one as well. Had I stayed rather than run away, everything could have been prevented."

She spiraled into blaming herself for everything again, it was a habit that was hard to break.

Elsa hadn't noticed she had chilled the room as she spoke.

Hans watched her devolve into self-hate and near tears with a look of sympathy. She was clearly so deeply upset-- and in front of a prisoner.

No, he couldn't still be a prisoner. Prisoners did not see the Queen cry. Whatever he was, things had changed. He wasn't sure why. His focus was elsewhere.

He took her cold hands in his and knelt in front of her on the floor, to warm her.

"Hey, hush now." He cooed softly, familiar words from long ago, ones she wouldn't know the way he did. He reached up to pet her hair.

"Stop this thought, you're killing yourself slowly, and one day you'll think like this and make the last decision you'll ever make, forgetting all the people around you who would never be the same. Your sister, your servants, your people, your guards, Kristoff, your snow-creations, myself. There must be a hundred names you know, faces you remember, people who would shed a thousand tears if they knew what pains drove you here. Don't make my mistakes. I made that decision once, someone else stopped me, and I saw the cost of thinking this way for everyone else.  Stop feeding your hate, even if it's hate for yourself, even if it's disguised as sorrow. You have made mistakes, had accidents, but you were never a treasoner. You never raised a sword to another intending to kill. You are a wondrous person and if you keep thinking the way you are, I fear we all may one day find that wondrous person missing from our lives forever. I know too many who would never bear that thought."

He spoke quietly, almost in a rush, but always with genuine-seeming care and concern, her hands clasped in his, on one knee on the cold stone without sign of discomfort, looking up at her.

He was alluding to some uncomfortable things. Whether she understood them, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Elsa's hands tightly clasped to his with a slight tremble. She looked down at him with her blue eyes welled up with tears.

The return of his warmth was comforting. His cooing and tender touches had momentarily soothed her. She'd continued to fight back the tears, but to no avail, his words failed to console her heavy heart and she began to weep.

Elsa understood what he was implying, and recognized what decision he had intended to take, before being stopped by someone. The easy way out, the thought that briefly crossed her own mind up at the North Mountain, of the world better off without her. It hurt her heart to hear, he had impelled to take such an action. She wondered what had provoked him to do so, and dreaded to think it might have been his remorse.

"I-I would never...I love...Anna... Arendelle... too much to ever... make them suffer because of me again." She murmured, with a sniffle.

Her whole body began to quiver.

"But I can't help, but feel guilty... the mistakes I made shouldn't be brushed off as if they were nothing or pretend they never happened... just because I am Queen... they were fatal mistakes...I may not be deemed a treasoner...but...people almost lost their lives...one of being...my own sister and all because of...me.

"...And yet Anna keeps telling me... 'It's alright'...because I didn't mean to..but is it really all right?..Does my intention really matter?..A life lost is a lost life... and it would have been...blood on my hands... no matter what.

"I know... love is the key...to my ability...but deep down... I'm still afraid... if I... if I...accidentally lose control again...I could actually end up...killing someone...with-without a second thought."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

She was letting out the hidden darkness that kept eating away at her heart, thoughts that often kept her up at night, to a man that almost killed her himself, nonetheless. Why? Why did she feel compelled to pour her heart out this man? Why not confide in Anna? Her sweet sister who deeply loved her. Or maybe Kristoff? Who was wise and always willing to listen. Why did it have to be him? Why Hans?..Why?

Maybe, because out of everyone, he was the only one that could truly understand her.

Hans was surprised she would weep in front of him. It was heartbreaking, truly. But, he could see something had shifted between them. He was something more than a prisoner, though still something less than a person. Still, so were the fey, and they seemed to have sway here.

"Hey, shh, shh, it's alright." He cooed, dimly remembering the same gentleness from his father, as he reached up to brush away her tears with warm hands.

"You're trapped in an awful paradox. To be responsible you have fears, but every fear makes your powers tremble to fix it like a dog after a stick. What can you do? Stop viewing this as fear, that's the dark side, that part that blocks out the sun and gives the ice room to grow. It's your love of others that recedes the shadows and melts the ice. It's the love of your sister, your people, your kingdom that makes you so concerned for them. There will not be blood on your hands, you are too kind, for your ice to let anyone truly die. I have seen that for myself." She, he had heard, was in the room while the doctor fixed his back. She had seen the damage and the scars, infections and blood. She stood by and assisted through it all. That was not the work of a killer.

"Sit with me, you should have a shoulder to cry on, and for all my injury, my shoulders are fine." He joked a little, to encourage her to move to sit on his bed with him, that he could hold her and let her cry.

Was it proper, for a queen and her prisoner? No. None of it was. But he recognized that something was different.

'They'll never see me cry!'

Elsa had once told herself. And yet look at her now, sitting here sobbing like a child. She'd failed to conceal and not feel yet again.

Was it improper for a queen to let herself cave in and weep ( especially in front of a man she'd ruled her prisoner)? By all means, yes. Ill-advised? Most certainly. Starting to lament it? Without a doubt. But, had it been a mistake? That was something that was yet to be determined.

She nodded at his offer, shifting her body to sit next to his (once he sat), with little to no reluctance. She was already weeping, it could be no worse to allow herself some solace.

Elsa slightly leaned her head upon his shoulder. One hand grasping at his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she muttered under her breath.

Hans pulled Elsa closer so she could rest against his chest. In truth, it was not his shoulder he felt she needed, but the rest of him. To be held and recognize another human being close to her, recognizing her pain.

"You never need to apologize to me. You did nothing to me that I didn't do to myself." He assured gently. It had been his choices, his responses that got him where he was. He stroked her hair and held her as if they had always been friends, or perhaps as something else.

"Cry all you like, I'll not tell a soul. Sometimes it's all we can do to stay sane. And when you're done, I'll make a fool of myself to brighten your spirits, make you laugh."

Even weeping, she was beautiful. It was a heart-rending scene, and in a way, he was glad he was a prisoner there. It was easier, he suspected, to give secrets to a man who could have none of his own. To someone who would speak to no-one. By rights, Arendelle, and Isles law, he was hers to command, and he had no problems with that. He wondered if she fully recognized that.

Elsa's body naturally tensed up at the shift, though she didn't not resist Hans pulling her closer. His embrace was warm, much like that of the blankets she would often nestle herself in, when she sought comfort from Anna and a cup of cocoa.

She did not try to force her tears to stop, fearing it might cause her to sob even harder than just allowing them to flow. Even if she hated feeling so vulnerable crying, it did seem to be easing her aching heart.

His gentle hair stroking was soothing. For the longest time she heard nothing but the sounds of her own whimpering. Her ear was pressed up against his chest, she tried to focus her attention on Hans' respiration, his breath was calm and steady compared to hers, she slowly tried to make hers replicate his. She closed her eyes and listened more attentively to hear his heart, it's beat soft and it's rhythm calming.

After staying like that for a while, her tears had stopped flowing and she felt she had calmed down significantly.

She slowly shifted, bringing up her hands pushing her palms against face brushing away the remnants of her tears. She looked up at Hans as she sat up.

"Thank you, " Elsa whispered, followed by a sniffle.

"Of course." Hans assured, watching her with softness in his eyes. "Did I tell you about the depth of symbolism, in a man of the Isles surrendering his sword? It is to a noble similar to giving up a crown. My loyalties are yours." Maybe he shouldn't have said it, but he thought that perhaps it might distract her from her woes. He reached up to help dry her eyes, affectionate and caring. He had some fondness for her, even if he really shouldn't have.

Elsa's heart skipped a beat and felt her face flushing. She wasn't sure if it was brought about by: the softness green eyes, the weight of his words or maybe their proximity was finally sinking in, all three together were a bit overwhelming.

"Uh-I wasn't aware of that." she said, shaking her head. "You only told me was that the surrender sword belonged to me now and you couldn't have another unless gifted back by Arendelle, I believe." Elsa tried her best to keep eye-contact but her blue eyes kept dancing back and forth trying to escape his gaze.

"Yes, it goes a little deeper than that. It's a willing lack of defense. What's more, Nobody held a knife to my throat or threatened my family. I came willingly and gave you my sword, my loyalties are yours and your command is mine to take. Even if I were to receive lands, unless a sword is gifted to me first, they would traditionally fall to you instead. Of course, whether or not that works in practice is another question, it's a medieval tradition in this modern age. But I like to hold to our sword traditions. A prisoner, of course, has no rights to weapons or lands to begin with. But I'd have given over my sword anyway. Else, why bother getting a facsimile made? It was only a symbolic fill-in, there's no purpose to that for a prisoner who didn't come willingly. Hm, all this to say, I can have my uses. If that use is to be a confidant, then that's my use. I certainly won't judge you for your tears, one of us should be able to have them." He reached up a hand to brush his thumb below her eye, as if to wipe away any remnants of tears she may have had. He did have some fondness for her. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he did.

Maybe in a way he always had.

Hans was supposed to be her prisoner, but he definitely wasn't one anymore, she didn't know what he was to her now, exactly. A friend perhaps? Not quite, but he most certainly seemed to have become an incidental confidant. She no longer saw him as a prisoner, that’s for sure, something prevented her from seeing him as such, his humanity perhaps or maybe something else. Whatever it was Elsa was just now starting realizing she might have gotten herself in too deep.

Hans' thumb brushing against her skin made her whole face tingle. Her face felt unbearably warm, either from the heat coming off his skin or from the flush growing warmer, most likely both. She didn't understand why a simple touch had made her reaction in such a way, when she had been far closer to him mere moments ago.

"Thank you," she replied to his words, not knowing how else to respond, being slightly flustered.

Hans hesitated a moment there, though to what end was anyone's guess.

"Cold will reduce the evidence of tears, I daresay you have that handled. I imagine you've been here a fraction too long for the guards' liking. Luckily, nobody asks us questions."

He drew back from her, distancing and giving her reasons and advice, as if he was something to hide, as well as her and her tears. In his life, tears were forbidden. He hadn't had them since his childhood, at least not that he would admit. It was much more becoming on women.

When Hans began retracting himself from Elsa (and even if her face was burning because of his proximity), there was a force within her wishing he wouldn't, like the resistance of pulling two magnets apart. She had grown accustomed to his warmness, in every sense of the word, and did not wish to lose it. He was absolutely right though. Elsa might overstayed her welcome, she had just broken down in tears in front of him after all, something that should absolutely not be happening, especially between a queen and her supposed prisoner. Even if she knew he was right, there was a part of her that didn't wish to leave yet.

"You're right, I really should go...but if I leave now, my breath might still give me away." Elsa stated. "Even with no questions asked they might still assume."

Though it was true that she still had a slight puffing to her breath that she could not yet control, it might have been more of Elsa giving herself an excuse to let herself stay, if only a tad bit longer.

Sure the guards could assume she'd been crying, but they could be assuming far worse then her shedding tears, yet that didn't really cross her mind.

Hans smiled a little in spite of himself.

"Her Majesty is right again." He admitted, amused.

"Shall I tell another amusing story then? Perhaps loudly so the guards might be entertained? We could make a game of it, see if we can make them laugh through the wall. I was never very good at Improvisation, but I might try nonetheless if it would make you laugh. Or worse, I'll try puns and jokes. I have a good many musical ones." He did like to play games and tell stories. Despite the sadness of his life, he enjoyed it when everyone was having a good time. That was the only time he liked to be noticed.

[id-rather-be-home]

Keith and "I Love You"

Okay, so. Keith in the series so far has been the only one who has said "I love you". No other character has said it in reference to romance or family - not even Lance in reference to Allura (his current canon love interest) and not even Allura to her father in the scene where she had to let his memories go. And not even Allura to Lotor. Part of Keith's character arc is accepting people into his life as well as learning what love is. He had it with Shiro when he was raising him and taking care of him, but he didn't quite know what to call it then. He wasn't quite sure what or who Shiro was to him yet. But, in s6, after he spends time with his mother and his arc has come to its peak, he figures it out.

Shiro is his brother. He loves him. He stated that very plainly and with certainty, compared to in s2 when he says "Shiro, you're LIKE a brother to me". He wasn't quite sure then, but here he is. Shiro is his brother and he loves him. He is one of the most important people to Keith.

Then, we got this moment in s7 that I cried over.

He finally has his mom. And this happens right when she says that she has to leave, after she promised she wouldn't do so again. But he accepted that - he knew that she was not leaving because she was rejecting him. He's grown and he knows that she loves him more than anyone else, but in war, sacrifices are to be made. He understands that, and this scene speaks volumes about how he has grown as a character.

Now. Why am I bringing this up. I just find it... interesting how Keith is the only character to have said "I love you" within this series. His character arc is about ACCEPTING LOVE. And what is Lance's character arc. About ACCEPTING HIMSELF and FINDING LOVE. Their arcs intertwine again and again - I cannot stress enough how romantically set up these two are.

Keith has said "I love you" to two people he views as family, which is the first step.

Shiro: who raised him and took him under his wing and saved him from himself when he was younger. The man who mentored him and gave him a reason to keep going - to not give up on HIMSELF. A brother and father's love; a symbol of strength.

Krolia: his mother. The person that he could never understand why left. But he does now. He has had 2 years and more to bond with her, to develop a relationship with her, and to trust her. He knows a mother's love now, which is one of the most important and unconditional loves there is to know; a symbol of compassion and endless and selfless love.

Lance: his equal, his right hand man, the one who was there for him when Shiro was gone and when he still did not know Krolia existed. Lance was there to guide Keith, to give him someone to turn to and lean on when he didn't have anyone else. He was Keith's stability during Shiro's absence, and that development was not erased during Keith's time gone. Lance has opened up to Keith about his insecurities and Keith is the only one who he has opened up to completely and was actually REASSURED. Lance was there for Keith, and in turn, Keith was there for Lance.

But Keith wasn't fully ready for Lance yet. He was not ready for that kind of love yet. He didn't know about the existence of the other two that he's learned from Shiro and Krolia. He needed to learn of those first, and accept them into his heart, before he was ready for Lance.

I'm not necessarily saying that we're going to get an "I love you" between Lance and Keith (though that would be... just amazing) but I am saying that Keith's growth with love has to lead somewhere. There's a type of love that's missing, and I don't think he's going to get it from a very rushed and sloppy romance with Acxa. Not when Lance has been here the entire time.

[johnmulaneys]

be honest. what's your opinion on s4!jafael

lmao okay. let’s start with the fact that i love them and i’m happy they’re together and on their way to be the endgame. with that out of the way, i’ve had my fair share of dislikes this season with them.

i loved the season 3 finale, i loved jane’s heart glowing for rafael and i liked that they didn’t get back together right away and that rafael had to figure his things out with petra and whatnot before he was ready to commit to jane again. but the way i see jane x raf and why i love them it’s because of the Telenovela thing, they’re a telenovela couple (THE telenovela couple of this show) and their way back to each other (from s3 finale to them being actually together) wasn’t really….. telenovela-y. 

season 1 is by far my favorite season because it delivers on its promise of being a telenovela in every aspect, there are the build-ups and twists and turns, and there’s that ~All or Nothing~ vibe, like, jane gave up an engagement, gave up on her 5-year plan, ignored her family’s wishes while rafael gave up on a marriage... they both gave up on their lives as they knew, just to be with each other. because they felt that they were supposed to be together, it was beyond logic, it was just that Destiny thing that are what telenovelas are made of. and season 4….. just didn’t do it.

of course this isn’t the most valid reason to be “unsatisfied” with them because seeing them getting back together, even if in a more lukewarm way, was still really nice and it kinda made up for season 2 - season 3a. but it wasn’t that season 1 magic that made me fall for them in the first place. season 1 shows everything what i love about jafael their flaws and all; what i hoped was that season 4 would bring a more mature version of s1!jafael and at times i felt that they did it but some other times it felt a little… Not Them. as if jennie urman had some sort of “recipe” of what an ideal couple should be and just trying to fit jafael into that mold even though the jafael i personally love can’t fully fit there, so some of the romantic jafael moments fell kinda… flat. their “first” “i love you”s were rushed and, yes, that was the intention but it's definitely very different from their first “i love you”s back in season 1 and just sort of killed the vibe for me. 

a lot of their romantic moments were just really bland even v*lladero-ish at times imo, for example “you’re the only thing i’m really sure about” is… straight up a j/m quote. if s1!jafael were a Team and s2!v*lladero were Buddies... s4!jafael were Buddies too, if that makes sense? like, s4!jaf reminded me more of s2!v*lladero.

and another thing is that season 1 brought challenges that were very real to their characters and the environments that they were raised in. their differences were on the way of their relationship and they had to deal with them in order to be together (and season 1 onward has shown that they’re capable of dealing with their differences and coming to a middle ground in their decisions, whether they’re in platonic or romantic situations), and both jane and rafael have grown a lot, in many aspects of their lives, since their first relationship. so the one thing i never expected to be an issue at this point of the race would be? jealousy? especially the way rafael expressed it this season. 

jealousy for jafael was never really an issue before. the only times they’ve expressed straight up jealousy (not just insecurity) was when they were not together (for rafael, season 2 with mikey and for jane season 3a with catalina and a few times with petra s3b, etc) but in their first relationship in season 1 jealousy wasn’t really an issue. yes, rafael is an insecure love interest (especially in season 1) but his insecurity always exclusively came from his own situation in his life, not from other people interacting with jane. 

in season 1 rafael doesn’t think he should be with jane because he is in a very dark place and can’t drag jane down with him, he knows jane deserves better than that version of him. his problem is with himself and not with anyone else. so this season when alba sets jane up on a double date and rafael is suddenly mr. jealous? it felt... unnatural. it felt like a new extra trait for him that was never really there before. and rafael actually going to the marbella to watch the date? was? creepy? and not something rafael would do? he’s not pre-s1!mikey?

and then another completely random moment of jealousy was in the petramos thing? when rafael heard petra rehearse her speech to jane (ramos) and he thought she meant jane (villanueva) he was suddenly terrified of the idea of petra getting Close to jane as if? there was a possibility jane would out of nowhere fall for petra as soon as she professed her love? it was completely out of character for him! this jealousy thing was this new trait that the writers gave him that felt very unnatural and made me feel very... meh. about it. jane and rafael have many (interesting) challenges already, weird jealousy doesn’t need to be another one.

and something that i didn’t always notice until liz (@elenaalvares my love) brought up to me was that mateo was very much used as prop to make rafael look better. most of his plots were quickly resolved by rafael’s actions but didn’t really go beyond that. for example, when alba spanks mateo… we don’t see mateo’s reaction, we don’t see his side even though he is the victim there. what we see is rafael immediately stepping in and the plot is never about mateo but about the conflict between rafael and alba (showing that rafael is right because spanking is bad) and a few other moments of the season show that as well. mateo was for rafael this season, what rafael was for mikey in season 2 (they used rafael’s negative actions to promote mikey’s niceness #saintmikey #goodtimes #tbt).

so basically, season 4 was... nice, felt kind of like a filler, it was good seeing them back together but it wasn’t what i expected for them and for who they are as a (telenovela) couple. it was kinda underwhelming, fell flat sometimes and often out of character. of course there were times where they reminded me of That couple that i love, especially with rafael’s never ending support of jane’s dream, and jane stubborness to make things right for them in the finale, etc. but all and all season 4 wasn’t what i hoped for my telenovela couple. she was cute, but she was not season 1.

now, honestly, in my opinion, the best thing that could’ve happened for jafael, in terms of their endgame, was michael’s return. rafael decided to cautiously reunite jane and michael (he had to be cautious, he couldn’t just immediately text jane a picture of mikey like ‘lol he lives’ because he understood how hard his death hit her and how tough recovery was for her). and he reunited them regardless of what that meant for him. it was the same selflessness that we see in the season 2 finale. rafael having a choice and showing that his love truly is unconditional; he loves jane, he wants her to be happy so if happy means mikey, rafael will bring mikey back to her. so we have a season 5 that starts with the original love triangle again; jane has promised forever for both of these guys but only one can be america’s next top model will actually end up with her. 

i was suspicious that mikey would come back this season but i was 100% sure that he would when jane said that she couldn’t answer whether or not rafael was a “second choice”, it was obvious that the writers WANTED to answer that. and now his return will do exactly that. mikey becomes what he was in season 1, an obstacle for jane and rafael, the main one. mikey’s Alive status means jane is still a married woman and this should bring internal conflict for jane; conflict with her religion and her views on love, divorce, etc. and puts rafael in a complicated situation, does he fight for jane or let things be naturally? what is the right choice here? what will jane’s family think? what will rogelio think now that he’s given his blessing to rafael? there are all these conflicts michael’s return brings up that just make jafael’s story (and honestly jtv’s story) more and more challenging which brings us back to that original telenovela vibe i’ve always loved so much. jane has said that her love for rafael is unconditional, but rafael was the one to prove it (twice); it’s time for jane to prove it too and that’s why i think season 5 can be better than season 4.

[sixpenceee]

Woman shares what energy drinks did to her husband (while she was pregnant)

Photos by Endres Photography

“Hello, my name is Brianna, and this is my story…

Love is not the little things. It is not the phone calls, the dates, or even the memories. Love is knowing you would sacrifice things that you didn’t even know you could sacrifice. Love is selfless.

Have you ever felt your life shake ? Have you ever been hit with so much emotional turmoil to the point where everything around you becomes fuzzy and shaken? Your lungs feel tight and for a brief second you can’t do anything. You are unable to move, unable to think, unable to even react. I have. I experienced something I never thought I would experience…all while nine months pregnant with my first child.

Being pregnant is supposed to be one of the most amazing journeys you will ever embark on. You’re creating a new life. You are experiencing unconditional love for someone you have not even met.

Austin and I were so excited to meet our little boy. To bring him home. To be a family.”

“I never imagined as I went to sleep that night, that my whole world would be shattered within hours.

I still remember my mother in law waking me up that morning. ‘Austin had an accident’ she said.

All I knew was that my husband was in the hospital. The worst part? I didn’t know why.

After a two hour drive to the hospital, I learned that my husband, the father of my child, the person I am so deeply in love with, had had a brain hemorrhage. Why? The doctors concluded (after running his tox screen and ruling out drugs) that this horrible event was due to his recent excessive energy drink consumption (a habit he had built when he started working longer hours and commuting).

Surgery was already in motion… and after an agonizing 5 hour wait, we got to see him. But while everyone was focused on the almost unrecognizable face hooked up to all sorts of machines and tubes, all I could see was his parents. I saw the light leave his mother’s eyes as she saw her motionless son laying in that hospital bed. I saw his father break down crying as he held onto his wife.

They didn’t know if the life they created together would even wake up.

Watching this family — my new family, who I have grown to love and be a part of, be so shattered and broken…that is the worst feeling I have ever felt.”

“The next day was round two of brain surgery. Following this were strokes, seizures, swelling, and more things we weren’t prepared for.

There was a moment, sitting by his hospital bed, just praying he would be okay, that I knew I would never give up on him. No matter how messy our life would become. I was going to be by his side through all of it.

After two weeks of living in a hospital, wondering if he would survive or be taken from us, we made our way back home.

The time had come for me to deliver our baby.”

“I’m not going to lie to anyone, it was so hard. I had planned on Austin being a part of this huge moment. Being by my side. Holding my hand. Being there to cut the cord. Being there to welcome our son into the world. It didn’t feel right…

But a beautiful miracle happened as I delivered our son. Austin woke up. I went about a week without seeing him. I thought about him every day. I cried as I looked at my child who looked just like his daddy.

When the baby was only a week old, I left him with my in-laws.

I knew I needed to see Austin. I needed to tell him that our baby was here. To tell him how much we needed him.”

“Weeks went by. We chased him all over the state as more operations and procedures were ordered. I saw him every chance I got.

At a little over 2 months old, our son finally met his dad. A day I wasn’t sure I would ever see. That was the day that my heart gained some of its happiness back.

Some time after that he could finally come home to me. Our life isn’t normal. There are doctors visits and hospital trips — so many that I loose count.

But we are here. Fighting.”

“I wake up every day to take care of our beautiful little boy and my husband. I prepare the meals, do physical therapy, speech therapy, and occupational therapy. I help him with personal hygiene. I help him walk. I help him with every aspect of his life.”

“And in between these tasks I take care of our very busy eight month old. It is hard, and I am tired, but we make the most of it.”

“He isn’t the same man I fell in love with, but I still fall further everyday, We are fighting to help him recover. To make his life better. One day we will get there.

Until then, I will never give up on him. Because love is selfless, and I love him more than life itself.” (Source)