#is it nostalgia is it surprise is it fear or even joy

[r-aindr0p]

I woke up this morning and remembered something from ages ago, an ancient being of shadow and flame

It needed to get out of my mind quick and I refuse to remember this alone, here you go

[scoobysnakz]

Hard Luck

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mentions of masturbation (m receiving)

Chap i

The crisp autumn air carries a sense of nostalgia, which surprises you. It has been a while since you've experienced autumn in this way, but nostalgia is supposed to be a pleasant feeling, right?

Your daughter's small, chubby fingers firmly grip your hand as you playfully swing your arm out of her reach. You can't help but laugh at her adorable pout when you pull your hand away.

"I'm just teasing you," you say with a wide grin, extending your hand for her to take. "Stop being a grouch and hold my hand, RayRay!"

Her scowl quickly turns into a cheesy grin as she latches onto your hand. The sound of her pencil case and notebook thumping matches the rhythm of her skipping, and her glittery, purple sequin backpack bounces on her back.

Raya, or RayRay as you playfully call her, is your best friend. It's a bit sad, you know, but you've never really had time for friends. Ever since her dad left, she's been the only person in your life, aside from colleagues and your parents. And it's not so bad. She has adapted to your lifestyle, developed a sense of humor—her sarcasm is surprisingly on point for a nine-year-old.

The journey from your rundown apartment to her school isn't long, but it's far enough for the houses to transform from shabby boxes with crooked slate tiles to fancy condos with gleaming windows. It always amazes you how a few turns can take you to an area where people don't even know the meaning of a food bank.

You can tell by appearances alone that you don't fit in. The navy blue cable-knit sweater and boyfriend jeans, dirtied with mud stains, don't exactly scream, “I can afford more than one vacation a year!"

On the other hand, Raya always looks pristine. Well, maybe that's an exaggeration, but you'd rather wear nothing than have your daughter look as unkempt as you. Ensuring she has enough clean, stain-free clothes is your number one priority.

As you round a corner, narrowly missing a puddle that Raya "only wanted to look at" and not jump in, her disappointed expression gives her away.

Parents bustle around, urgently trying to retrieve their kids from the playground. It's nearly impossible to spot her teacher amidst the crowd of what seems like millions of moms, dressed in thick white scarves and thigh-high brown boots.

And then you hear it—a loud screech that, under different circumstances, would signify fear instead of the original joy it was intended for. "RAYYYY!" an excited girl squeals from the opposite end of the playground. Her dark brown hair is scraped back into a painfully tight ponytail as she races toward your daughter.

The two girls jump up and down gleefully, holding each other closely. It's a nice seeing her not alone.

You're so engrossed in watching your daughter giggle with her friend that you fail to notice the tall man standing next to you. What catches your attention first is his cologne—it's expensive.

The scent of thick oak is overpowering on its own, but it's tempered by the most unremarkable shower gel known to man.

"They're cute, aren't they?" he asks, causing you to turn your head and face him. You bite your lower lip for a moment, trying to figure out who this guy is. "Yeah... they are," you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Your words come out ruder than you intended, but you can't be bothered to fix your manners when a surprisingly attractive man is staring at your daughter, enjoying her time with another child. If you weren't genuinely confused about his identity, you might have reacted more strongly. Instead, you stand there, arms folded and brow furrowed.

"I'm... sorry, I'm Gabi's dad," he explains, his tone surprisingly apologetic.

That's her name.

"I'm Raya's dad," you reply, nodding toward the two girls. Hearing who he is instantly eases your fear that he might be something worse than just a father.

An awkward silence ensues as the man continues to study your appearance, seemingly taking you in. With a soft laugh, he smiles at you—a warm and irritatingly charismatic smile. "You don't look like a dad," he grins.

You open your mouth to give him a sharp, quick-witted retort, but your expression falters when you realize your mistake. Refusing to let this stranger have the upper hand in your first interaction, you smirk at him. "What do you mean?" you ask, poking your tongue past your lips to swipe across your teeth.

He instantly catches on to your smirk, and to be honest, it's endearing. "Because you don't look likea typical dad," he responds, matching your quickness. The same mischievous grin is plastered on both of your faces as you engage in a playful stare-down.

This morning, when you hastily applied expired mascara and cheap lip balm while trying to wake up Raya, you never expected to encounter such an annoyingly funny and undeniably attractive man—by your standards, at least.

With high cheekbones, thick eyebrows, and broad shoulders, anyone would take a second look at him.

The loud peal of the school bell interrupts your scrutinizing gaze, drawing your attention back to your daughter. You quickly give her a kiss on the cheek, and she instinctively wipes it away while giving you a glare, before you push her towards the school entrance.

The man—whose name you still don't know, aside from being Gabi's father—does the same, but his daughter doesn't wipe away the kiss.

"When I asked who you were, I was hoping for a name," you mutter, mostly to yourself, but hoping he hears it too.

"Miguel," he responds, his voice lacking the warmth he had when his daughter was present.

"I'm..." you begin to introduce yourself, but he cuts you off, his voice now tinged with cockiness.

"I know who you are," he says, raising an eyebrow. Your scoff makes it clear how creepy he sounds. "Gabi talks about Raya a lot, and with you being her mother, it's only natural."

You narrow your eyes at Miguel, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. Raya is your world, and beyond that, you've kept everything else tightly guarded. It's a defense mechanism, a way to shield yourself from potential hurt or judgment.

"What exactly does Gabi say about Raya?" you ask, your voice tinged with caution. You're not sure if you should be flattered or concerned that your daughter is a topic of conversation between Miguel and his daughter.

Miguel chuckles, seemingly amused by your response. "She just talks about how funny and cool Raya is," he replies. "They've become good friends at school. Gabi is always excited to see her."

There's feel a sense of relief that washes over you. It's comforting to know that Raya has found a friend who appreciates her for who she is.

“Well I need to go,” you say while motioning over to the school gates. “Work and stuff.”

He nods his head, expression just as nonchalant as it was moments ago.

***

After dropping off Raya at school, and a brief yet intriguing conversation with Miguel, you head back home. It's considerably warmer now than it was before; sun poking out of the clouds, shining down onto the leaf-littered pavement. The odd car whizzes past and it's all you can do to jump away in time before it splashes you in murky brown liquid.

Fortunately for you, you don't have to leave for work until ten so you get some time to yourself. As soon as you unlock the door to your apartment, it took longer than you'd like to admit as you forgot which way to turn the key, you flop down onto the worn-in sofa. It creaks beneath you- a sign that you need to get a new one.

If you had the money, you would. God, if you had the money you’d move out of this shitty apartment and into… anywhere else. Maybe a house on the coast would be nice, or one of those fancy condos by Raya’s school. Either way, you want out.

You feel your eyes grow heavy, the temptation to allow yourself a few moments of sleep all too good. With a low groan, you pull yourself up off the sofa and drag your feet over to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee.

You open the jar only to find a minuscule amount granules left- six to be exact. All you want is that burst of energy and yet you are denied it. “Fuck me,” you grumble under your breath.

***

Even though it was a painfully short moment between the two of you, Miguel decides you are tolerable. Okay, maybe you’re more than tolerable, he'll settle for bearable as he's feeling especially nice today. You’re funny, well that might be a bit dramatic since he hasn’t even had a proper conversation with you, but you made him laugh- internally that is.

But right now he needs to push you, the nice lady with a pretty smile and even prettier face, out of his mind. He has to focus on this paperwork that's been sitting on his desk for God knows how long.

Begrudgingly, he picks up his pen with a sigh and starts scrawling his signature on the limitless reams of paper. It's all nonsense about him signing off on random projects, and safety procedures and- those sweet lips.

Something about you is intoxicating. Even when he was skimming through the infinite amount of universes, you didn't seem that special. Yes, there were the odd facts that caught his attention but everything else just seemed… dull. So why now, after not even a full five minutes of your company, can't he get you out of his head?

At first, he assumes it's because you’re oddly charismatic but that's not it. You weren't even trying, you just didn't want him to pull a fast one on you. Maybe, just maybe, he underestimated your personality and being around you as a real person and not some fact file actually made you likeable- no, bareable.

Double checking his office door is closed and the blind is pulled down over the frosted glass before sliding back into his chair. “LYLA,” he calls out, words muffled by his head in his hands.

There’s a small glitch next to him that quickly turns into a digitalized woman. “You called?” LYLA asks, hands on her hips.

Fuck he feels guilty but maybe seeing that cocky smirk on your face will ease the culpability he’s feeling. “You… you know what I want and I don’t want teasing or anything about it, just do it, ‘kay?” Miguel’s voice is gruff, full of an annoyance he doesn’t even know he’s feeling.

“Why would I tease you about wanting to innocently look at something?” she drawls with a smirk.

He shoots her a look, an unamused one at that. Giggling childishly, LYLA pulls up a screen full of writing. Miguel’s eyes flicker back and forth trying to find something until he catches a glimpse of your name.

He swipes and flicks the blue pixels a few times before your socials are pulled up. It’s nothing much, just your Twitter, Facebook and a surprising amount of Instagram accounts. That, makes him laugh. He can tell exactly which ones are the accounts you use for stalking people and which ones are for actually posting things.

There are mostly pictures of you and Raya together on days out but there are a few of you on nights out nights out alone. He immediately notices you never post anything with friends and it’s oddly comforting because it’s not just drunk girls with smeared eyeliner that’s missing from your pictures. It’s a boyfriend as well.

Not that he wants to fill that missing gap in your selfies, he's just feeling a little lonely cooped up in his office. He's in this universe for Gabi and no one else, not the lady with a pretty smile.

Just as he’s about to zoom in on a picture that shows an alluring amount of your cleavage, LYLA cuts him off. “I like her smile,” she says while getting up a different picture. This time it’s one of you and Raya in last year's Halloween costumes. Pirates. That’s the two of you had dressed up as.

You’d drawn a black beard on her face, Raya’s outfit cute with the oversized black and white striped shirt meanwhile you… A tight black and red corset pushes your chest in a way that makes something inside Miguel stir.

He shouldn't be looking at you like this- it's wrong and perverse. The two of you only met today and yet he's salivating over a picture of you in a Halloween costume. Yet he can't stop himself from allowing his body to react to the way you look.

That feeling slips down from his chest to his gut until it eventually reaches his crotch. You look so pretty like that, cheeks appled and eyes wide as you pull a stupid face with your daughter. The picture is innocent enough in its own right but seeing you in something ever so slightly revealing makes his brain malfunction.

He bets could make you prettier, more gorgeous than ever if you let him. His cum painting your perfectly plump lips and his hands gripping bruises into your supple flesh.

[zkyfall]

Trans Arcane Week - Day 2: Family

A late submission for Day 2 and a preview of day 3: self-expression:

Silco’s always supported Jinx expressing herself. He shouldn’t have been surprised when she wanted to return the favor.

----

“One layer is enough right?” Jinx asks from her perch on the couch, boots and socks off and toes splayed wide so the freshly-multicolored nails don’t touch.

“No.” Silco answers from his permanent post at his desk, not looking up from a shipping manifest. “Let the base set, then build up, layer by layer.”

“Layers? What am I, a cake? How many? Two?”

“With a sealant on top, to preserve it.”

Jinx groans and kicks her feet into the air. 

“Patience, child. These things take time.”

“I’ve been patient. Ugh, I need to create a formula that dries faster.” Jinx jumps to her feet and wobbles across the office to throw herself across the desk in an exaggerated swoon.  “This is the WORST. I’m so BORED.  Let me paint yours.”

Silco signs a looping ‘S’ on a dotted line. “No.”

Jinx grabs his hand anyways. He smoothly transitions his pen to the left hand and keeps working (the showoff). She nibbles her thumb and rubs at his fingers with her other hand, admiring the sheen of his nail bed.  “Wow, you have really nice nails.”

“Because I don’t chew them.”

Jinx scowls and retracts the digit from her mouth. "GOOD. Then the nail polish will last longer."

A few seconds later, a colorful assortment of pilfered nail polishes are strewn across Silco’s desk. The full gamut of neons, pastels, and even some boring ones thrown in for CONTRAST. 

“Hmm, what to pick, what to pick.” Jinx examines each bottle in turn: winners get a comfy spot on top of a pile of receipts while losers get chucked in the general direction of the couch. The temptation to pick pink or lime is almost overpowering but Jinx tamps it down. She’d have to ease her dad into those. Better to start with something he’d be only a little uncomfortable with, something already in his existing palette maybe–

“Ooooo, this one! Black. Bold. Fits the whole vampire goth thing you got going on.”

Silco lips quirk up at that. “Good guess.”

“What?”

“That was my preference, a long time ago. When I was around your age.” When Silco talks about the past, he either overflows with zealous passion (which means its BIG speech time ugh) or sinks into a wistful nostalgia. This time, Silco’s face softens. “Black or blue. It did look good.”

“Oooh, were you exploring the joys of adulthood? Finding yourself through creative self-expression?” Jinx rolls her eyes and gesturing at his stuffy attire. “Shame it didn’t pan out” 

Silco sighs and leans back into his chair, carding fingers through his hair though it was already perfectly styled. “I put that part of myself away.”

Jinx furrows her brow, she’s been hoping he’d rise to her bait, not get…sad or whatever. “Like…you didn’t like it?”

Silco hums. “Not quite. It simply didn’t serve me.”

“Serve you? What happened to ‘wear what makes you happy, Jinx’?”

“Nothing. You should wear what makes you happy.” Silco leans forward and levels a steady gaze on his ward. “And I wear what gets me results.”

“Oh no,” Jinx groans, “I feel a lecture coming on and I’ve already hit my lecture quota for this week sooo–”

“I had to become what they fear, Child. That took some forms of self-expression off the table.”

“Hahahah, so that”–Jinx waves at his chest–“is what people are afraid of? Fancy vests with gold trim?”

Silco huffs a laugh. “Oddly enough, yes. People are strange. The structure, the materials, it sends a message.”

----

I WILL FINISH THIS, I SWEAR @arcanefandomweek

[betinh3]

New headcanos about the fusions!

Basically it's the way each child refers to their parents, even if most don't consider them their parents.

In the case of Revulsion, Hatred, Loathing and Nostalgia. They consider the emotions that gave birth to them to be their parents. Others do not consider them because they are not the result of a romantic relationship(In the case of this parallel universe).

Revulsion and Hatred calls their parents like:

Mum(Disgust).

Papa(Fear).

Dad(Anger)

Loathing even though she recognizes them as her parents, she doesn't like a lot of intimacy so...

Mom(Disgust).

Dad(Fear).

Old man(Anger).

Melancoly was always very close to her two mothers, and never had any problems expressing his love:

Mom(Joy).

Mama(Sadness).

Now about the other fusions, they normally call the main emotions by name or just mother/father. But we have special and funny cases like:

Surprise calls Joy an old lady.

Justice, to provoke anger, calls him an old man.

Intrige uses "Madam" to refer to disgust and joy, to sound mature lol.

Betrayal doesn't like to refer to anger and sadness as father and mother in any way(as if he were a child of separated parents).

Self-loathing thinks she has no right to call Disgust Mom because of her low self-esteem, so she calls Disgust "Miss".

[ophelian-darling]

𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲

Yandere Jotaro Kujo x female reader.

Summary: As you're being dragged to marry the man who kidnapped you, you play your last card for the hope of taking back your life and freedom.

TW: kidnapping, Isolation, physical and emotional abuse, Blood & Injury, forced marriage & pregnancy, explicit sexual content, Inappropriate use of stands.

Word count: 6.8k.

This is a NSFW piece, Minors DNI.

The aroma of exquisite perfume and deluxe cosmetics fragranced the bright, small room. the colors of lights were so blinding and Cheerful, singing Jovial serenades and mimicking the light of a spring sun .the white noise in the background indicated a common Joy and eternal bless of a special day, a day that brought happy tidings and auspicious sensations for everyone.

Everyone, minus the envied yet unfortunate Bride herself.

The stories of fairytale Romances and sweetly-clichéd love scenarios had always been one of your life dreams. you've daydreamed of your ideal true love thousands of times, imagining a simple yet blithe life: a small home where would warmth and peace reign, dazzling eyes and a loving smile of your beloved who would behold you in awe and adoration, and whom you would look back at with the same.

The pink reveries and pleasant fantasies faded and discolored into a gray reality and repulsive inevitability. the ceremony that was about to take place wasn't a declaration of union and devotion, it's nothing but of a slavery contract: you were about to be wed to the monster who stole your freedom.

You clenched your fist at the thought of him, completely neglecting your stylishly manicured nails or fearing to ruin the pure white, lacy glove on your hands. None of your childhood fantasies had an epicurean yet dull essence, a family that lived on hate from a mother and a possessive lust from a father, a loveless life between two people who would stand at the Altar and accept the epithets of a husband and a wife .

Jotaro Kujo wasn't a human at all. He was a complete, utter nightmare of a human by all means, a heartless creature who didn't think of anything but tormenting you of all people. The irony about his persona was his surroundedness with a lighthearted family :his mother was a bubbly, kind and innocent woman whose smile was a glow. no one can imagine how such a warm, compassionate woman mothered a cold, aloof man; the Paradoxical thought never failed to surprise you even after three months of 'troth'.

Holy softened her speech whenever she spoke to you, maintaining her gentleness even after the topic of her husband was brought up - your guilt nagged you at the sight of her sad smile; you remorsed asking her such a question, even if it was unintentional.

Mr.Joestar was such a gentle soul as well . you really liked him. a sense of nostalgia and familiarity intrigued you when he greeted you and welcomed you into the family. you couldn't help the smile on your lips whenever he spoke with that gentle, tired tone or kept on forgetting and mishearing names.

"He cheated on my grandmother" Jotaro whispered to you, catching you off guard as he continued "his affair had resulted in the birth of Josuke."

Yet another surprise for the night, you thought.

The image of a flamboyant, handsome man was brought to your memory.

The first detail you recalled was a flashy pompadour, then a suave, confident voice played itself automatically, retrospecting all of your previous encounters with Josuke.

back in Morioh-Cho, the young student was one of your acquaintances and a great neighbor. you didn't think that your little town's Sweetheart is a relative to your apathetic husband; putting both men in one picture was like illustrating the distance between heaven and earth: dissimilar and contrastive.

Josuke had chirped happily one evening, the wide grin on his face seemed to stretch even more.

"My Nephew said that I'll be walking you down the aisle, I'm so excited to see him and you get married!" his blue eyes were a pool of twinkles, nothing in the world could erase the innocent merriment he felt, as if he's the groom himself.

The groom.

Jotaro's expression nor tone didn't convey any emotion at all -and you thought that you could read people well- when he had brought you the news of your engagement and wedding: not a single line in his face moved nor an octave in his speech was raised.

What intimidated you the most about him was his Unbreakable composure and static attitude. If you were someone who knew him shallowly, you'd never think that he's the sick, truculent man who kidnapped a woman, faked her death and forced her to marry him. you'd only see the guise of the hardworking, responsible Marine biologist who's running an organization and responsibilizes himself of research and technology. The fractions in his demeanor were perfectly concealed and painted by a false color of good reputation and near, blessed marriage with a beautiful, loving bride.

In the midst of dark thoughts, your eyes landed on the garnished and florid reflection in the pure glass. The huge vanity mirror epitomized a tableau vivant of a lost puppet and the human who has been coffined beneath it.

Now it's smiling. coloured lips curving up coldly.

The Makeup artist couldn't stop sophisticating about how makeup can accomplish more than the sole purpose of beautifying.

"The mask you put on slowly becomes your new face. the longest you fake a persona the closest it consumes you" the old woman said sotto voce, the sharp eyeliner moving smoothly across your waterline thanks to her careful hand. you only listened, not actually drinking in her words but wanting these long hours of preparation to end.

She blew a gentle whiff of air to remove a speck of dust on your eyelid then continued "a gentle makeup suits a bride the most. it's perfect to tame the wild emotions she experiences, whether it is Joy or even pure misery…no one can see what's under a woman's face when she's adorned"

The last part of her theory caught your attention, the next words confirming it now.

"All of them are just looking at the garniture of you, not what your soul carries"

A vile, revolted emotion washed at you at the sight of your reflection. Surprisingly, that old, talkative dame described you to an exact extent. Never in your life hated being dolled up as much as now: the elegant comb of your hair, the flawless makeup, the bustier that held your chest seductively and the long-sleeved, classic dress.

Compliments were given on your appearance, but you swallowed none of them. If anything, you're the fakest excuse of a happy woman.

In a fit of rage, your gloved fist met the glass in a harsh punch. Even after it was crushed to a pile of glasses around you, the ugly reflection was laughing at you from the remaining shreds of crystal. No, you shall not spend an extra second here and walk on your own feet to the golden grave .

You lifted up your skirt and did a quick Job of unclasping the Lucullan Italian heel, stretching your toes and flexing your ankles to comfort your foot from the tight shoe effect.

Hastily, you removed the gloves from each hand (there were minor wounds in your knuckles, but thankfully, the glove mitigated the injury). with twitching fingers, you began to remove the splendorously Flowered Tiara and the long Chiffon veil attached to it. locks of your hair had already intertwined with the heavy accessory, but your digits did a nervous work of untangling them and fixing your hair back to a loose style.

Your hands sneaked to the cummerbund, Satin waistband. tugging gently at the material so as not to ruin it (Your wedding gown was a family heritage. alongside his blessings, Mr.Joestar gave you his mother's Matrimony Robe as a gift, so harming such an antique patrimony would be a rude act while he was nice to you). The sash loosened slowly, allowing you to respire comfortably after being pressured for a long time. like the Tiara, The waistband was lavished with entrancing wildflowers- something that Mrs.Joestar insisted on involving; her Floral sense of beauty theming everything in the ceremony.

Breathing deeply, you unbuttoned the high neck from behind after a bit of struggling to find the knobs, then hiked up the dress and completely took it off.

Remaining in the Cream bustier and underwear, you debated whether you should take them off or not, but the process will eat your time out and cease your escape, deciding instead to wear your old clothes, retrieve your mobile phone and the reasonable amount of money you still have.

You were sure that Jotaro wouldn't give you any chance of escaping or contacting other people than his trusted acquaintances. all of your previous belongings were taken, but you managed to keep your Phone - which was an extremely difficult thing to do - and use the money you managed to collect covertly in three months.

As predicted from a careful man, The Cathedral is surely surrounded by strict security. him knowing about a sole window in the bridal Suite seemed like he was daring you to run away again after so many failed attempts to do so, and you gladly accepted the Challenge.

It wouldn't be long before the ceremony starts. It is now or never.

The Room was cold and empty.

Holy's face was pale as she scanned every inch of the room. There was no trace of her daughter-in-law. Everything had gone smoothly: You were happy to be in the company of your husband's family, you accepted his engagement, you smiled when the espousal arrangements started…

What could've possibly gone wrong?!

The worst plagued her mind: a missing wife, an abandoned dress and a widely open window recounted a thriller film scenario, not an occasion for rejoicing and Celebration.

"For the love of God what's taking so-" Josuke was immediately silenced at the sight: Holy was trembling violently, a pool of tears about to cascade down her ghostly bloodless face. one look at your abandoned dress and accessory as well as The deserted room meant two things: you're missing and Jotaro won't be pleased to hear the news.

Staggering across the hallway, the youngman rushed to the Groom's room while thinking of a way to inform him of what happened. Even though he had found a euphemistic choice of words to deliver the unexpected problem, he knew Jotaro would absolutely fume about his wife's disappearance.

Au contraire. Jotaro's face contorted into a dull mein with each detail. It was a bold yet foolish move from you to decide and flee minutes before the wedding's commencement (especially when you were au fait with the level of security and what he had in store for you in cases of disobedience) and once he brings you back there'll be the devil to pay.

"Your mother speculates that she has been kidnapped" he added, hoping to hear a response after an unsettling silence. "guess I'll go and find-"

"You won't, I'll go" Interrupted Jotaro, immediately objecting to the suggestion.

"But you're the Groom, you can't just go and search around on your wedding day while you can leave it to me and the security !"

"I'm the only one who can find her. she's not that far away by now."

"Are you implying that she escaped on her own?" there was a missing point he wanted to get. Undoubtedly, His Nephew was hiding something about you.

Josuke received no reply. Instead, Jotaro adjusted his surgeon's cuffs coolly before speaking "Josuke, make sure to take care of everything during my absence, I won't take a long time anyway". he sauntered towards the door, as Calm as a spring breeze.

The Collected comportment of Him was always a fascinating - if not scary - feature of the Marine biologist. Here he is, going out to search for his missing soon-to-wed in his ritzy tuxedo and Perfectly assured about bringing her back, as if he knows where she'd gone already.

The young man sighed "Fine. don't you worry about it here" he gave up easily. maybe it's better to leave him be instead of inspecting him further. Jotaro was the last person he wanted to cross.

"Good"

Oddly enough, he didn't seem as wrathful as he thought him to be.

Time was impossibly uncountable.

You'd lost track of time since you left the Cathedral in a haste: How long have you been running? How long did it take them to find out what happened? you didn't know. all what you're knowledgeable about was that if you stopped for a mere second, your life will crumble away forever.

The coursing Pain through your legs, The burning thirst in your throat, The excruciating pressure on your windpipe from lungful and cold amounts of air wasn't comparable to the eternal pain of a strange life with a strange man. Your resolve to break free and regain your ordinary life once again was what kept you running despite the soreness.

As your memory recognized the familiar Places around the Cathedral, it wouldn't be too wrong to assume how close you were to the Station. your Plan was seemingly simple: you would run till you reach the station, hire a Taxi and go back home. So far, the first step is about to be accomplished. All you needed was strength, Patience and an earnest prayer to some sort of a deity in the heavens who would take pity on you and save you.

Luck was smiling at you when you noticed the familiar Outline of the Station. your pace became quicker, willing to run away as fast as possible.

Hope bloomed in your heart again after long months of Captivity, The Experience of being estranged from your family and friends was dreary and solitary, an Incident that shall remain engraved in your memory forever. your expectations didn't fly too high when the unhelped doubt was still there, reiterating the scenarios of getting caught and caged again.

No matter how you tried to wash away the dim view or fill your cogitation with rose-colored glasses, the eerie instinct that he's after you daunted the still remaining sanity within you.

You tilted your head carefully, looking for any sign of Jeopardy. your mind was playing tricks on you as you kept looking around like a frightened prey, the roads and paths were suddenly morphing into the same shape. your memory wasn't one for questioning nor doubting: you passed the same Stop sign three times, the Taxi which was numbered fifty four was exactly seven meters away from you and the distance didn't change. In addition, when you tried to approach the last Taxi, it seemed that you would never be able to reach it although it was near.

Needless to admit the odd presence behind you: Jotaro was after you and he's playing a twisted game with you right now.

You tried to keep your cool and manage your alarum (though your shaky legs disclosed your uneasiness). Cautiously, you moved your head to the side, Catching the Familiar Silhouette of Jotaro from the corner of your eye.

He wasn't very far away from you. The pace of his movement was mimicking yours, Calm and Unrushed - unlike your intentions for breakout - . He was ambling behind you while you faltered in the front. you wondered why he didn't run and catch you directly: you were certain he had seen and recognized you already, not to mention that he was a faster runner.

You quickened your tempo suddenly, deciding to test the limits of his chase and speed up slowly. He still imitated your rapidity, willing to close you up in his range- that was it, you had to be out of his reach.

It is now or never, you encouraged yourself.

You raised your knee and took a long step forward, launching a fast run towards the nearest car and never looking behind you. your legs flew along with the wind; a sudden, brief energy blasting through your pained nerves. you tried to think of your real family, their smiling faces manifesting in your Imagination, motivating you to run faster and faster until you'd make it home.

The Taxi's doorknob nearly slipped under your hand as you opened it swiftly, the driver was startled by your sudden appearance next to him and looked rather concerned: you were practically shuddering, your neat fingers distorted by tiny cuts across their skin.

"Are you alright, miss? do you want me to call the po-"

"Don't call anyone!" you interrupted harshly. you were running out of time and you had to make your destination clear.

"Listen" you rasped, swallowing the thicke lump in your throat before continuing "I'm in a hurry and I don't want to complicate this even more, you'd better start driving or things will get worse"

His face went pale "T-to whe-"

"To Morioh-Cho, Please, Now" you felt bad for aggravating your words, but slacking off in such a dangerous situation wasn't an option.

Your knees went Sluggish with anticipation, Jotaro wouldn't take another second to find and bring you back as well as facing the consequences of your actions.

You didn't want to think of his past threats to end your life if you dared to leave him. This was a huge risk and you had to take it, you had not to fail.

Just as he appeared in your vision's limit, the Car revved up then moved forward, soothing your tense nerves with a slow relief. You closed your eyes, leaning back in the passenger seat and loosening your muscles to ease off the stress.

You sighed deeply, as if letting the past three months of incarceration out of your Chest; breathing in and out, filling your lungs with fresh air, enjoying a serene silence without your fiance's voice reverberating in your ears.

"Enjoying yourself, aren't you ?!"

You nearly jumped off your skin. Is this a hallucination ?!

You woke up from your brief torpor and stared at the vacuous eyes beside you: dangerous blue piercing through you and an ominously unfamiliar dispassion tearing your soul apart.

Your trustable memory didn't recall his existence beside you before… Now he's the one who's driving you. What had happened when you closed your eyes? Have you made a mistake? And where did the pale driver go? Did you fall asleep? Is this a nightmare?

If this is a nightmare, it's a vivid, eccentric one.

"Is this how you repay my efforts of keeping you safe ?! Is this the way you treat someone who did nothing wrong but to protect you ?!" he yelled, clearly out of patience with your advances.

This isn't a nightmare, it's reality, a bitter version of it.

You've never imagined he would have this side of him, he was so angry- graphically enraged. you've never imagined he would be so delusional, you saw him as a sensible man who never believed in love or feelings. You've never Imagined that a man who looks as sane as him would think of hijacking as protection, of insulation as safety- The Insanity he hid for a long time made you shiver.

"What Protection?" you mocked. you've built a severe tension inside for three months. the night thoughts and Imaginary conversations you had in store for him flowed out of your mouth absentmindedly, coated with a venomous grudge and pure hatred towards him.

"You stole away my world and Family, You stole away my freedom and love for life…" he didn't say anything.

"…You're a sad excuse of a man, Kujo Jotaro. no wonder that your comrades and friends died, they didn't want to see you anymore. they didn't want to know someone who's as horrible as you…"

His fingers clutched on the steering wheel.

"…You're unworthy of love. you destroy everything you touch and cause misery for everyone you know…"

He glared at you, hot blood pooling under his skin.

"…I've never loved you, I still don't love you and I'll never love you…"

He Clenched his Jaw, pressing harder on the driving wheel. The Car was too fast, But you didn't care. you hoped that you would die in an accident rather than be with him for eternity.

"…I hate you"

He trod on the brake pedal at full tilt. The Vehicle stopped dead in its tracks, Convulsing and Subsiding in long seconds. you bumped your head on the glove box's top, feeling your nose at it squashed and bled. You yelped at the sudden burst of ache in your philtrum and laid your hand on it so as to soothe the pain.

You glanced up at Jotaro. His face was still red- You couldn't reckon whether because of his earlier spurt to find you or because of the things you'd just said. a Scowl took over his still handsome face, The usual expression he gave before sneering at you.

Instead of getting a verbal reply, his rough hand came in contact with your throat, Squeezing hard at your windpipe. The remaining nerve of patience was cut; and the tolerance he had for you drained out.

"I could kill you right now! watch your language with me you selfish, Ignorant woman!" he threatened. The pressure he applied on your neck was enough to inform you that he wasn't just threatening.

Blue and Green tints obscured your vision, Oxygen becoming less and less.

"…Don't you know how much I was worried about you? worried sick that you were taken away or got hurt!…"

Your nerves were on fire; electrified and violent.

"…Everyone is worried about you… they were happy to have you among them and this is how you return the favor!…"

You choked out a weak plea to make him stop.

"…I worked so hard to make your life- our life comfortable and happy…"

Warmth layered your eyesight. even from your heavily blurred seeing, you could see something twitch in his eyes.

"…I did all of this to have you…I couldn't let you go…"

Your palms finally moved and squeezed at his large hands.

"I love you…"

He finally spared you. His palms unwrapped your throat quickly and covered your small ones instead.

You drew in a Deep breath and reabsorbed the lost air. You didn't dare move away fearing another sudden outburst of him.

Oddly, He seemed to be quiet, lost in thought about something. The pale Color of his skin was back, returning to his calm, composed self once more.

Either of you said nothing (what was there to be said after a harsh paroxysm?) and Chose to listen to the peaceful Bird Chirping.

You looked outside the Window. You didn't know whether a Lavender field was a place that Jotaro planned to take you to, or simply stopped in by hazard.

You leaned back and breathed deeply, welcoming a sedating air into your lungs. The Fresh scent of Lavender Carried you to a whole nother world, a somnolent corner of your mind, free from any Interference or Strife. The driver's door clicking sound fell flatly on your ears; your senses were too somniated to process or realize anything.

Even when the thought of him murdering and burying you in a field of Lavenders seemed like a beautiful dream, less than a terrible fate you expected.

The passenger door was opened, with him standing in your vision. You wanted a bullet to break through your skull, or a shiny dagger to stab its course through your pampered skin. a color to paint the purple flowers red, It was Strangely poetic and bewitching.

"Sit up"

You obeyed, moving to the side and dangling your legs out of the Car, wanting to end this as quickly as possible. You didn't close your eyes, you wanted to see the field one last time before paying nature's debt.

The last thing you expected was getting your shirt hiked up; your skin exposed to the cool afternoon breeze and goosebumps rising on your arms.

Did he have another intention than ending your life? maybe he wanted to send you to the grave nude, Or take advantage of you one last time First…

The thought was Immediately brushed off when you noticed your wedding's gown clutched in his arm. Now everything is Clear, except for one thing.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" you asked, not realizing you asked him out loud.

He pulled down your trousers, questioning you back nonchalantly "Why would I kill you?"

Swallowing the knot, you answered "You said you would… If I ran away"

He donned you the Robe, starting from your neck and straightening it down your waist. A few seconds passed with the lone Bird Chirping and soft plants Swishing. He suddenly stood straight, towering over your small sitting form and snorting out a tight reply "So is this how you think of me? Am I that heartless to you?!"

You had no respond.

He continued, crouching to shoe your feet with the expensive heel "Why do you think I would keep you to myself if all I had towards you is killing you? Why would I bother to protect and provide for you when I have ill intentions for you? Why would I come to take you back even after your attempts to leave me?"

Astonishment wasn't the one to tie your tongue, having no answer to his questions was.

He gloved your hands after cleaning them "It's because I love you" He answered instead. "I do love you…although I don't show you as much, although you don't feel the same…"

He rose on his feet, a strange hue of sensation you're seeing for the first time in his eyes "although you say you hate me many times…" He wiped the blood from your nose with a clean handkerchief, not really wanting an answer from you.

It was strange, that hint of Pain and Betrayal in his voice.

How come you're feeling like you're the heartless human now? how come you're the one who's tormenting him all along?

You tried to convince yourself that he's lying, that he's coaxing you into a false sense of love, that his tears were nothing more than Crocodile tears… But the guilt insisted on disrupting your psyche.

The Sunset enameled the world in dazzling, prismatic shades of Cinnabar and Orange. you drank in the view from your window, feeling nothing but a comforting emptiness. Visual shadows of buildings and Trees raced in front of your eyes, filling your memory with a serene Nostalgia.

Jotaro was focusing on the road. As much as he wanted to return and finish the ceremony quickly, he felt the need for you both to absorb their feelings First, before you would step on a new route of life.

"You look beautiful." He said.

An empty smile crept on your lips.

The Kisses on your skin were pleasant, passionate and possessive, sealing every inch of your flesh with the branding of his lips. they travelled leisurely across your face, to your neck and down your Chest and waist. You tried to stay still for him and direct the anticipation to your fists -by grasping on the silky sheets tightly- but the tickles in the pit of your stomach weakened your nerves.

Tough palms of his dallied your sides and fondled your breasts; the amatory touch earning him a soft mewl from your lips.

The fragrance of Lavender lingered on his skin; shoulders and arms caging you on the mattress and squeezing you closer. you still can see the spellbound look of his blue eyes under your dark eyelids, a look he beheld you with when you stood together on the altar.

He poured his words In a suave, silky inflection, feeling the weight of his speech as your name rolled down his tongue in the start "I've never imagined to be so worthy of fate's mercy and so smiled upon by whatever deity was in the heavens. Your love was the ultimate grace and the greatest gift I've ever received, and I couldn't be more thankful to have you in my life"

The alienly sweet lips moved down, planting more busses on your bosom and stomach. The warm hands sneaked to your Clitoris; the press of his digits loading your veins with a zestful energy with each circular move.

"I used to think of my life as a mere repetition of events, a colorless time of living and an empty existence. I had no one in heart, no love to hope for coming back to, no soul to embrace myself into. However, when my eyes landed on your alluring beauty, I, for the first time In my life, felt how a heart would beat truly and lively. Warmth and love were so new yet so addicting to me; I couldn't have enough from a single look"

Your limbs jerked up from the stimulation, bubbles foaming under your skin when his fingertip traced the hood, tickling and massaging before moving to your slit.

"I still remember our first encounter as if it's a lucid memory from yesterday. It was in the blink of an eye, you looked at me without seeing me; It felt like a glory, a zephyrous spring, an ardent sun and a warm sea. If I had in mind a way to show you how much I'm in love with you, I wouldn't be able to show enough except by offering you my heart, here and in front of all my loved ones, now and forever…"

Gentler than a feather, he continued to rub on your sex, dandling each part of the wet flesh. Hot pool of tears filled under your eyelids from the overstimulation, you couldn't think or recall anything at the moment.

His middle finger stroked in and out, adding more fuel to the fire and flying you closer to heaven; Your own moans and keens ringing into your ears unfeelingly. Hypersensitive and On fire, you felt every drop of blood rush to your face and ears. a touch…then another and another… till the colors in your vision exploded into a white sweven.

"Will you offer me your heart as I offered you mine? Will you spend the rest of your life by my side and be the light that guides me through the dimness of life? Will you love me like I love you?"

"Will you be mine till the end of time?"

None wouldn't have believed that his rehearsed words were a voice of heart.

Summoning enough courage to utter those sole two words was more difficult than sermoning a whole staged oration.

Your eyes shifted behind him. What would happen if you refused to be in the company of these smiling faces who waited for your agreement? Even If, your refusal meant nothing.

"I do"

How long have you drowned in your reveries? not too long. The heavenly climax washed over your soul, clouding your consciousness. Lust and Vigour controlled you.

A weak croon left your throat when he grabbed your thighs and positioned himself between your legs. your ankles were raised effortlessly so he can press his upper half against yours till your foreheads together.

Warm breath fanned on your face. lifting your eyelids up, you were met by his eyes, rapt and hazed; staring right through your soul.

As his fingers intertwined with yours, he whispered "Do you love me now?"

"No." Was it the truth or a mere falsity like your life?

He didn't respond. Instead, he sheathed himself into you, pushing his hips forward with force. The sudden stretch of your walls shocked you, his length occupying your insides and kissing your cervix.

You moaned loudly, a jolly mix of pain and pleasure stinging your lower half.

It felt hot and sticky -thanks to his earlier efforts in stimulating you- and throbbing. you moaned loudly at the feeling. Although it wasn't actually your first time with him, his large member never failed to force out a climax from you. your mind was certain of its hatred towards him, but your body obeyed every touch and thrust he gave.

Thrusts started out methodic and slow, Wanting to feel every inch of your soft walls against his girth and enjoy the moans you made. Your Husband was usually rough, deciding to take time and savor each second of being inside of you, as if it was the first time to touch and indulge in you.

Each thrust rubbed the most sensitive spots within; increasing the volume of your moans as the room shook in your vision. The lewd sound of skin slapping and his huffs against the Shell of your ear adding to the coming heat.

Even before receiving another sweet release for the night, you found yourself straddling his torso as he stood up. He easily held the weight of your small form, slamming your back against the wall to continue pounding into you.

It felt too deep: He knew your body more than you did. Those hidden spots were fully hit, just as he memorized where to bring you close. He loved the new position too, his groans and ragged breaths being enough of a proof.

It felt too opaque: Seconds passed slowly yet quickly. Closing your eyes again and gyrating your hips mindlessly to meet his jostles was the only thing you had in mind. Faint Images of his eyes blurred amidst the dark corners of your vision, something that you didn't forget nor comprehend, just like your feelings towards him.

It was so sudden: a pleasing comfort foamed and explosive underneath. the knot of your stomach untied itself as you felt his warmth spill inside of your womb, accompanied by a deep, long groan from his throat.

The world around you formed again, Only when you started to drift off to sleep. His final words were there to remember during your awakening.

"If I couldn't be enough for you to love, then a child would have you love me."

Mrs.Joestar was a Stylish woman Indeed.

The Pillow Appliqué she made was Gorgeous, If the word was enough to describe its artistry. No wonder why Jotaro and Holy made her the ceremony's organizer.

Pink Carnations and White Orchids Graced The Pink Silk In a Circular Shape. You admired how versed She was In sewing: The Pearly shade of pink she chose, The elegant Curve of each petal and leaf, not forgetting how stunning the lace they were made of. Years of Maidenhood in Italy and being under the service of an elegant Mistress sharpened her feminine senses and refined her talents greatly.

You remembered her youthful grin as she offered you her gift, rambling about a dream she had not so long ago.

"I dreamt of you eating apples, lots and lots of red apples!" She chirped. "Do you know what that means?" Suzie gave you a prompting look, waiting for you to realize the indication of her dream rather than an actual answer.

You furrowed your eyebrows, thinking of a possible interpretation of what she'd said. Why exactly would a dream mean anything to what you're experiencing now?!

"I can't seem to think of an explanation, Mrs.Joestar" you replied politely before chuckling "What does it mean?"

"It's a great sign Sweetheart! you're going to be a mother soon!"

She delivered the simple answer as if it was something you wanted to hear. A Child is what every woman longs for, isn't it? and when you think of your situation, you didn't want to meet Jotaro or any of his family members, let alone have a Child with him.

"You're going to have a beautiful baby girl, isn't that Sweet?!" She said dreamily, Cupping her face and possibly fantasizing about the little baby of her grandson.

"I had the same dream After I got married for a while. Later I knew that I was with Child! And I eventually had my precious Holy! isn't that beautiful? A girl is much better than a boy…"

You couldn't Imagine yourself as a mother.

The mere thought of bringing another soul to this world had your bones shiver. a Child was the last thing you wanted- But something he wanted and craved to have.

Jotaro had made his wishes clear since that fateful night together. He would leave you filled to the brim with his seed, sore and dazed. He had whispered of how pretty you'll look in a maternity gown, palming your rounded belly and sensing that little pulse inside. Even If what Suzie had said was true, what kind of difference would a girl make to your life if you didn't want her to come at all?!

"What are you thinking of?"

Jotaro's voice crushed your train of thought. You were holding the little baby pillow in your hands for half an hour for now.

"Just tired." you lied.

Silence stretched. You didn't want to have another conversation with him for now. In fact, you didn't want nor had enough power to converse with anyone at all. You continued staring at the tailored flowers while rubbing your thumb at the soft fabric.

Loud Footsteps ruined the silence. He sat down beside you, The soft sound of his breathing filling your ears for a minute. His hands held yours gently, Both of your rings glinting under the morning's sunlight.

"Grandmother Suzie said that we'll have a daughter." You didn't need to look up at his face to know how happy he was; Even if his tone seemed Composed, there was that little octave which told it all.

"I've been thinking of a good name for her" He was confident about it too, although you were only Five weeks pregnant.

You didn't think of the soul Inside at all. You felt unattached to it, So close yet so far from the thing inside. The blood string that connects it to you, nor that faint heartbeat will never make you feel a thing towards it.

"Yet I couldn't find a proper one" He scooted even closer, bringing his other hand to hold the little pillow of what they called 'your daughter'.

Still no word from you. Why would he think of a name for something that shouldn't exist?! Why would he want something that he can't take care of?!

Why would he bother to ask you about it?!

"I thought you had a good name for her"

You swallowed back a harsh remark forcefully, hiding the truth of your feelings towards him and his damn baby. You needed to stay calm for an unknown period of time.

"Jolyne" You managed to let out. "We'll name her Jolyne. If she's a female, Of course."

The name wasn't that meaningful or symbolic. You just gathered your tongue's letters and formed a name out of them. as silly as it may seem, but the name sounded a little lovable.

"Jolyne" he repeated, as if liking the roll of the simple name on his tongue. The least he can do to bring you back a little Joy is giving you the honor of naming your daughter: The child you made together, The little flower that will bloom, The pure Lily of Love and Life.

His blue eyes twinkled with hope. Cupping your face, He planted a soft kiss; most of his soft kisses ever. tangling his fingers with your hair and tasting your lips.

You didn't feel anything.

Breaking the kiss, he looked at your eyes, looking for that familiar mirthfulness he obsessed over.

"Jolyne it is. Promise me that you'll love us forever"

"I promise" you lied again- that was what you thought.

Dawn broke Through the airplane's small window, Casting transparent lights across the cabin and drawing thin rays on the walls. Birds Chirped gleefully and loudly with each passing second, announcing the start of a brand new day.

Fourteen hours separates you from your new life. a new life of you, your husband and your upcoming daughter. Upon the remembrance of her -She's officially a female, the doctor announced- Your hands massaged your stomach tepidly, smoothing away the tensing and kicking fetus. 'Jolyne' as you started to call it, was doing great according to the smiling Gynecologist: Her heart rate is normal, Her position and Growth is as expected, and no abnormalities or problems at all as for now. In addition to comforting Jotaro about your ability to travel without any risks to his baby or his wife.

Generally, Your first ever pregnancy was going well. Your excuse to stay by his side was soon to be born just in another four months.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked, concerned.

"Just tired." you were really tired; not from having a living creature deep in your guts, but from everything you went through in less than a year.

"You'll get to rest once we're there" He reached to rub your stomach, enacting a gesture of parental affection.

You knew it was another lie: You'll never be able to rest, You'll never be able to see the lights of a true life. the existence of an untouchable decoration was all you could call your life at this point.

You had no choice: Pretending to be a good wife became what you are, and soon enough, You'll be a good mother who previously pretended to be happy about carrying The Joestar's heiress. Your old self shattered, not a fragment from it was present in your brand new one.

All of them are just looking at the garniture of you, not what your soul carries.

[kakyoinswifey]

For the kiss prompt! Kiss 6 + Kakyoin!

I don't know if this counts as a drabble, but it was what I could write in 4 free minutes. And I'm not in the peak of my imagination, so I decided it not to be so angst

I don't wanna lose you — Kakyoin Noriaki x Reader

6. “A kiss on a falling tear”

The numbness in his body had grown heavier in the last few moments. How long had it really been? Noriaki didn't know. He only knew that during this silent time and unbearable calm, his first thought was you.

Your soothing soft voice had a hint of agony in itself ever since he came to his senses. He was trying to remember your features with such accuracy that he could recreate the image in his mind, see your face in his poor imagination, when he knew that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do your face justice, and that frustrated him too. You used to talk to the doctors at the Speedwagon Foundation, hoping for news or something to ease your poor heart. Although you didn't know it, he listened to your concern and made it his too, but his heart also found comfort knowing that you were missing him as much as he was missing you.

So, he decided to wake up as soon as possible. Even though he wasn't the main responsible for that, but his injured body. Kakyoin couldn't continue to bear your sadness for not knowing if he was really okay. At some point in your daily routine, which consists of stopping by Avdol and Iggy's room to take care of them too and make sure they were being treated as they deserved, you went to his room, every day, he could hear your sweet breaths, telling him that you miss him very much and hoped to see him well soon. He could hear your every word and that was enough for him.

His body was still mostly numb, but when he thought you were gone, he thought about continuing to practice. His body had already begun to respond, slightly, but it was enough to calm your nerves, right? His violet eyes opened very slowly, trying to get used to the light in a natural way, since his arms still didn't respond as they should. So he decided to scan the room, sometimes you used to bring him flowers and in your own words, they were so that 'he doesn't feel lonely, because those flowers were you when you weren't around'.

White roses. He smiled at them. But then he could finally saw you. You were there, you hadn't left the room anytime. Your hair was so messy on the bed, your hand taking his in a soft grip, and you were sleeping with your head resting in the matress. And yet, you were the most beautiful person in the world.

He didn't think twice. What little practice he had now would do what it was supposed to. His hand gave you a squeeze that wasn't hard at all thanks to his condition, but enough to wake you up. You let go of his hand in your dreams, wiping your eyes without remembering when you fell asleep. But your heart wanted to come out of your mouth when you saw that pair of lavender eyes looking at you hesitantly.

"Nori? A-Are you awake?" You mumbled so surprised. The doctors had told you that it could be months before he even responded properly due to the damage to his body, but he had responded in a couple of weeks. An agonizing few weeks, but was it really true? He was truly awake?

At least he was able to smile at you to answer you. It was enough, joy filled your heart with just that simple gesture. Still unaware of the world and having feared the worst, you rushed towards him to wrap him in your arms. "I missed you. So much, I did missed you." You assured him, squeezing the purple fabric of his pajamas, even if it was out of nostalgia or happiness, you felt your eyes turn watery.

"I'm back with you, (Y/N). I'm so sorry I worried you." He had the nerve to say, when all you remembered doing was coming face to face with Dio because he had dared to hurt your loved one. "No, shh. Everything's fine now, okay?" You said while you separated from him so slow to look into his eyes. "But I need you to listen to me, could you?"

Kakyoin nodded slightly, still trying to do more. Move his hands, maybe, but yet, his all attention was on you. "I... I was talking to the doctors while you were unconscious. A lot happened, and I really hate to say it." Your voice trailed off, you were so happy to see him again that you'd rather let it be, but you couldn't let him without knowing such important things. "It's likely that you will lose the mobility of some limbs. The damage went straight to your spine, and you know how hard it's been to even keep your life from fading away. If you want to know the exact odds, I can call one of the doctors... Yeah, damn it, I should have done that first. Give me a second, Nori." You stumbled miserably over your words. You wanted to appear strong, but you couldn't resist anymore, so you turned around ready to leave the room when you felt something grab your arm.

Your gaze lowered to see what it was, although you recognized the sensation. A green tentacle was entangled in your extremity and gently pulled you towards its user. You obbey him without hesitations. "I don't care about it." He whispered so low you barely heard his words. "Don't say that. It's your health, and I know you don't want to be sca-"

You felt more tentacles surround you and it snapped you out of your nervous trance for a second. "What would you do if I really couldn't walk again?" He asked. He wasn't scared of your answer. He would respect your decisions, but the two of you had been in love long enough to know what the other would say, even when you hadn't confessed to each other yet.

And it was your confident look and your next words that made him feel the same way.

"I would stay my whole life with you to take care of you."

The hearts began to beat stronger, almost heard thanks to the silence that was forged in the room.

"And what if nothing really happens and I can continue on my own?" He asked again, but this time trying to joke with you. He didn't expect your response so quick and serious.

"I would ask you if I can stay with you until my final days."

Maybe you didn't think about it before you said it. It was how you felt, but you didn't think to be so direct when asking him to let you be next to him.

But now it was late. Your eyes meeting, staring at each other as they tried to read each other's souls was enough. You didn't know if he was the one who pulled you with the help of Hierophant Green or if your feet walked on their anxious own. All you knew was that now you were sitting back on the soft mattress, gently tilting your face so that finally, after so long in love, the two of you finally shared a first kiss.

His lips were a little dry, but they were heaven to you. The warmth it gave you just by pressing them against yours was enough to make you feel butterflies fluttering in your body. Obedient fingers could finally touch your face after so much longing and carefully caressed your hair, as if you were a doll about to break. The soft movement of his mouth made you feel a click in your head.

This kisses meant that he accepted your proposal. Or maybe, it was a way of making it up to you for letting you be the one to offer your own feelings before.

You didn't want to know, but you just felt a tear run down your cheeks.

You were young. Whoever saw you asking a man to let you be by his side, would call you crazy. Much more so when there was something as delicate involved as his health. But who were they to know how much both of you loved the other one?

Even when Noriaki thought that it would be selfish to have you by his side if he couldn't make you completely happy, he could really understand.

The happiness, for both of you, was found in the soft loving lips of the other.

So he would strive to make you happy from then on. He would show you how much he could do for you, even if he had to go against the doctors, his own body and his own life. That would be his promise of love to you.

[taytjiefourie]

Emotion VS Feeling [In Writing]

More often than not, you will find the words emotion and feeling being used together. Are they similar? I guess, are they the same? Not really. 

I don't sound very certain of myself do I? when it comes to body, soul, and mind, I rarely am admittedly.

Today though, we will be talking about the most basic differences between these two so you know what to do when you write them. I am no scientist, I am no psychologist, I am a writer that did some reading here and there and had my moment of "aha! that's how it works," 

Emotions

now, these babies are universal, everyone feels them and everyone feels the same thing. It was a core integration in humanity's hard drive when we were created. 

Emotions are instinctive and unconscious, they are often physical as well. Our body responds to situations that cause emotional reactions. Like when you're sad, and suddenly it's hard to breathe? or that feeling like gravity decided to weigh you down and everything is just falling even though you're not actually falling? those are physical reactions to emotional situations. 

What type of emotions are there? well, I don't know the answer to this in its entirety. Why? because there are so many emotions that we can't describe or the English language just doesn't have the words for it. This does not mean I don't have an answer, just not a complete one. 

Psychologists have identified twenty-seven different categories for emotions.

Admiration

Adoration

aesthetic appreciation (yes, liking pretty things is actually an emotion)

Amusement

Anger

Anxiety

Awe

Awkwardness

Boredom

Calmness

Confusion

Craving

Disgust

Empathic pain

Entrancement

Excitement

Fear

Horror

Interest

Joy

Nostalgia

Relief

Romance

Sadness

Satisfaction

Sexual Desire

Surprise

but Taytjie isn't there more? what about say envy?

ah yes, Envy, most people have felt that haven't they? now, darling, Envy is a combination of Sadness and Anger. 

you see, emotions are like colors, you have primary colors, then you combine them and you end up with secondary colors, combine those, and woah you have tertiary colors. 

But, listen to this, but then you tread into the feelings territory. 

so let's move on to the next topic. 

Feelings

oh oh oh, buckle up darling, we are going for a ride. 

Emotions and Feelings are connected because Emotions turn into feelings. 

But doesn't that mean that it's the same thing?

no.

Feelings are mental and conscious, they are also completely different for each individual person. Where emotions are universal, the feelings it turns into vary from person to person and situation to situation because feelings are shaped by individual experience. 

let's say you and a friend are both feeling a combination of joy and fear, for you, you're excited but your friend is feeling guilty. you're feeling the same emotions but the end result is so very different.

here I'll add a list of feelings.

Anger

Annoyance

Contempt

Disgust

Irritation

Anxiety

Embarrassment

Fear

Helplessness

Powerlessness

Worry

Pride

Doubt

Envy

Frustration

Guilt

Shame

Boredom

Despair

Disappointment

Hurt

Sadness

Stress

Shock

Tension

Amusement

Delight

Elation

Excitement

Happiness

Joy

Pleasure

Affection

Empathy

Friendliness

Love

Courage

Hope

Humility

Satisfaction

Trust

Calmness

Contentment

Relaxation

Relief

Serenity

Interest

Politeness

Surprise

[bxsotted]

A Slave To The Past | Patrick Melrose x F!Reader

pairing : Patrick Melrose x F!reader

synopsis : Patrick's back in New York to collect his father's ashes and remembers an old lover who might be there too.

words : 1.9k

themes : nostalgia, angst, just Patrick hating himself a lot lmfao

warnings : mention of previous drug use

˜Masterlist˜

💖 Reblogs and feedback to support my work 💖

A/N : A little prompt idea I had to get out of my system - haven't been able to write for Built For Sin lately so I thought that maybe this would spark something. I wanted to make this longer but I figured I'd stop here and maybe in the future make a part 2 to it. Anyway, enjoy!

Going to New York to pick up his father’s ashes had turned out to be more of a disturbance than he expected. Patrick knew somewhere deep in his heart that even after receiving the wonderful news of his abuser passing away, there would be something that the rotten old man would muster up to torment him - even after banishing from this plain of existence. So really, he should not be feeling so surprised. Or at least that’s what he was shouting to himself while shaking on the sidewalk of the mortuary he had just exited, the memories overflowing him with anguish and confusion. 

He didn’t know what it was or what had started his distress; maybe it happened when he looked down at his face. Static, pale, lifeless, he would almost dare to say that he looked peaceful. Though he refused to use such a word when referring to his father - he was everything but. He could feel his stomach turn as he had reached out to touch his face, not really understanding what had pushed him to do so. It was like finally being able to touch a wild, feral animal at its weakest, most vulnerable state. A state that very much ensured that there would be no type of harm done to him with such a simple act. He would scan his face, searching for any sign that the bastard had suffered in one way or another. Pain, rage, fear, he deserved all of it.

He was finally dead, the old prick had finally stopped existing. It brought a sense of relief that Patrick never thought he’d experience outside of heroin. But like anything else in his life that brought him any sort of peace or joy, it was minutary. What was missing? Why had his happiness of the situation lasted for such a short time? Was he really that greedy that his father’s death was not enough to fill the hollow, disgusting void that he had left inside of him? Of course it wasn’t. He wanted to make sure that he had suffered just as much, if not even more than Patrick had for the past years. But there was no way that he would be able to know.

Patrick shut his eyes, breathing in sharply as he felt the unmistakable need in his chest spread and overtake him. It was crippling, his voice beginning to echo inside of his head with the advertising tone he was so familiar with by now: ‘For the best heroin in town, simply call Pierre, 555-1726.’ The seconds passed and his anxiety only grew. Not being able to do anything about it, he tried to scream into his own internal void only to have his dismay and desperation be spat right back at him by the echo of his own thoughts. ‘For the best heroin in town, simply call Pierre, 555-1726.’

Simple, tainted words turned into a mantra. A prayer where Patrick scavenged any ounce of hope and light from, a tune ingrained into his mind that brought him promise of momentary peace like a sweet lullaby. The proof of the relief was painted on the skin of his arm as scattered red dots, in the places where he would choose to stick the needle that carried his cure. 

‘For the best heroin in town, simply call Pierre, 555-1726.’ 

‘Just don’t think about it - the trick is to not think about it.’ 

‘How can you not think about it? It’s like not wanting to get out of a wheelchair when the room’s on fire.’ 

‘Oh this was a stupid idea. What a putrid, moronic idea it was to try to give up now. What good is this gonna bring you, Patrick? Only cold sweats and suicidal tendencies is what will await you at the end of the day, how could you think this was ever. A good. Idea?’

Patrick gasped as if he awoke from a trance. He hadn’t realised that as the walls of his mind were closing in on him he had been holding his breath. 

‘God fucking damn it, god fucking fuck, fuck, FUCK.’ 

‘For the best heroin in town, simply call Pierre, 555-1726.’ 

“SHUT UP.” The words escaped him out loud, his hands had flown to his hair, tugging on it as if that would help silence the voice inside of him that was incessantly asking for a relapse. The people around him stared, but Patrick couldn’t care less. He shoved his hands in his jacket’s pockets looking for a couple of quarters urgently, looking around quite erratically as he tried to find a nearby payphone. 

He looked back at the mortuary hesitantly, as he knew that there was no other place where he would be able to find both change and a landline. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he pondered for a moment about what he could do. 

‘You said you’d stop using. At least cocaine and heroin. You said so.’ 

‘Oh, fuck what I said. We both know that was just a bunch of lies - we were never made to be good or get better. This is the best that we’ll ever be.’ 

“God, what a fucking joke.”

With no other option left, he made his way back into the building and asked for some coins from the receptionist at the building. After she had so kindly redirected him towards the line of public phones in a far off hallway, he immediately picked up the handset and brought it up to his ear. Mindlessly, he dropped each quarter needed into the slot and heard as each one slid in and fell into the coinbox. The clanking sound of metal reverberated from the phone, back to his ears and somehow sparked a small memory inside him. His movements faltered, as his fingers hovered over the buttons. His eyes scanned the numbers that were in front of him and he could hear the spokesman threatening to speak up once again, reminding him the buttons he should press for a little piece of heaven. 

“A little piece of heaven…” He mumbled to himself. Patrick’s mind lingered on the foggy memory that the coins had brought up. Soon his hand was moving on his own, dialling a phone number he had basically tattooed on his mind.

The sound of the vibrating phone against the table fills the studio of the hotel room. Y/N mindlessly picks it up, not thinking too much about who would be on the other line. For some reason, this time she decides to look down at the caller ID on her phone, a habit that she had grown to forget with how busy she had become. There were never any surprises when it came to phone calls anyway. It was always work, or one of her two friends. She wasn’t much of a social butterfly. If she were ever to give out her number to a stranger she found worth her time, the courting would always come in the form of text. 

She stared at the number on her screen for a couple of seconds and let it ring for one, two, three times before she picked it up. 

"Hello?"

"Oh thank God you actually picked up."

His mouth moved faster than his mind; he hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear her voice. The prospect of her not having picked up or someone else answering the phone instead, a long dead thought by now as he rejoiced over the sound of her voice.

Y/N froze in place and she swore she stopped breathing. It had been years since she had last heard his voice. If she was being completely honest, she didn’t think she’d hear it ever again; not after the last time that they spoke. 

It had been a messy break up, but one that was necessary - or at least that’s what Y/N told herself. Her love for him was big, but the chaos that surrendered their affection was greater than them both. She’d always be dragged down with him, her free will ending up in chains whenever she was around him. She loved to see him smile, she loved to make him feel seen. So, she’d easily let Patrick take the reins of the night, guiding her through wonderland as they chased after the white hare, self destruction the motif of their love. Time and time again she’d let herself be blinded by the emotions that she had for the man, but not everything lasts forever.

She told herself that it would happen sooner or later, it was bound to happen. Especially since Patrick was never one for change. At least that’s what she had learned throughout the years. And so their break up, though for Y/N was a slow agonising thought, came like a tidal wave for Patrick; sudden and out of the blue. It drowned him and pushed him deeper into the darkness of the ocean that was his existence. 

They both said a lot of things that night, things that now seemed to be buried in the past like a foggy nightmare, the words blurry and lost in time. But what prevailed was the feeling, which added to Y/N’s surprise. The bitterness of their separation had haunted her mind endlessly, she was sure that he’d never try to get in contact with her again. And so when she uttered his name through the phone, she let her lips savour every word that came out of her, her tongue immediately reminding her how sweet his name was.

“Patrick?”

It came out as a whisper, one that felt like it had pulled Patrick out into the surface after squirming around in the seconds of silence. 

"It’s been so… long. How have you been?"

"Oh I’ve been amazing - never been better. Father dearest just died."

Y/N couldn’t help but chortle. Her heart beat against her chest, but somehow she felt herself relax at his comment. Always so wry, she’d forgotten how much she had missed him. "His time finally came, huh?"

"Yes and even after death he's made sure to be a fucking nuisance.” Patrick chuckled, a hand rubbing his bottom lip as he looked around the empty hall of phones. It’s funny how his panic attack seemed so distant now. His need certainly was still there, but at least the voice inside his head was less loud than before. “I had to fly here to New York to take a look at the prize before blasting it into flames."

"Wait, you're in New York?"

"I am... it's actually the reason why I called.” Lie number one. ‘Great, Patrick, good fucking job. At least the you from 5 years ago would’ve had the balls to tell her you were trying to get some smack before you even thought of calling her.’ He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed softly as he did his best to shut out his inner monologue for a moment. “I know you go... back and forth between London and New York for business. I was wondering if life had decided to be kind enough to let me be in the same city as you for once?"

‘Whoop-de-doo, Melrose. Now let’s hope she doesn’t think you’ve been following her around like some kind of creep. Not that that’d be far from the truth. You can play dumb all you want but everybody’s seen how miserable you’ve been ever since she left you. You’re not so subtle about it either, trying to mention her casually here and there and asking about her every chance you get. No wonder every way you turn all you see are pitying looks.’

"Yes, I am in New York, Patrick." 

‘Is that a smile I hear in her voice?’ 

‘Don’t be an idiot. Don’t get your hopes up.’

"Would you be opposed to meeting over a drink?"

"Not at all... but maybe a cup of coffee might be better."

"Whatever you want, temptress."

-

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[raichana-artblog]

A small blurb to go with this image It is very much a first draft but still I want to do some writing for OCtober Rating: G 800ish words

First Meeting

It was as if time had stopped. He had appeared suddenly from the cliffside, he seemed just as surprised to see me. Our eyes met and I was hit with a wave of emotions all at once. Nostalgia, sadness, joy, and fear hit me like a tidal wave. Were these all my own emotions or the whims of spirits from times long gone.

                “ah” His small voice finally managed to snap me back to reality, he was no longer looking at me but instead at the ground that was no longer under his feet.

“Watch out!” I yelled and reached out my hand, hoping to somehow soften the fall. Gravity was not so kind and while the fall was only a few feet it was enough for him to hit his head and be knocked unconscious. I ran to his side and thankfully he seemed unharmed. A few scrapes but not much in the way of open wounds.

                I stared at my hand, when the time came, I had been powerless to do much of anything. Things were supposed to be different now, I was 10 years old and yet.

                Suddenly voices made their way to me, they were far and difficult to understand but I could hear ‘ran this way’ and ‘reward’. They were clearly looking for this boy. This time I would help, this time I would be useful. I gently touched the crystal around my neck and began to gather the light around us. To anyone on the other side it would simply look like a field of flowers. An illusion only those who can bend light to their will can accomplish.

                It didn’t take long for a group of people to come by, they were cursing that they seemed to have lost their prize. “Keep combing the forest, he can’t have gotten too far” the man in charge ordered and the group dispersed. After waiting a moment longer, I released the illusion and fell to my knees. However, there was no time to waste. It wouldn’t be long before they came across this spot again and I may not have enough light to try that trick again.

                “I’ll just carry him” I proudly proclaimed and stuck out my hand willing him to lift. However, nothing happened. I stared at my hand, perhaps I had overdone it with the barrier and that was why my other powers weren’t working. It should have been my first clue.

                “Well if that won’t work…” I grab his wrists and begin to pull. He groans a little but doesn’t even move a centimeter. I try just grabbing one arm, but my luck stays the same. “Ok how about this!” I try to lift him up a little so I can hoist his arm over one shoulder. He mumbles something but it’s in another language. “I know it hurts but we have to go!” He tried to struggle a little but all that accomplished was me losing my footing and both of us ending up back on the ground barely a foot from where we started. He was also much heavier than I anticipated, unless he moved I was pinned.  

                “I just have to hope they don’t have a telepath with them” I mutter to myself as I close my eyes and try to reach out to my mother who should be where I call home at the base of the cliff. “Hm?” Silence, I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t get in touch with the one person who could help. Fear began to grip my heart. Why wasn’t anything working? I was supposed to be useful. As tears began willing up in my eyes I heard it.

                “Raichana?” the man was tall, almost too tall for a human. His handy blond hair matched his slightly golden eyes. “What are you doing all the way up here? And with some boy…”

                Before he could finish his sentence, I was already calling out to him. “Dad! Please! He’s hurt… he fell off the cliff and I couldn’t stop it! He was being chased but they may come back” if he said anything else I couldn’t hear it through my frightened sobs. My father could rarely visit, and I didn’t want him to see me like this, but I was so scared.

                After a little sigh he moved over and picked up the boy with ease. “You able to stand or should I carry you as well?” His smile was so gentle.

                “I can walk” I managed to get out through sniffles though I did take his hand. It was always so much bigger than mine and so incredibly warm.

                I should have looked up; I might have noticed the worried expression he wore. However, in the end I was just happy to be heading back home, the safest place in the world.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyways hope you enjoyed my little blurb!

[mvrrow]

;; EDEN SHEPHERD — AS TOLD.

[ laura harrier, cis woman, she/her ] - was that eden shepherd i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the thirty one year old who has been in nightrest for on and off throughout her life and works as the owner of ada's antiques has a reputation of being softhearted, but also evasive. they reside in ashmore & people in town usually associate them with collapsing beneath the sun; the rays of light dancing off your damp skin, wild honey with its tendency to stick to everything it touches, and handmade quilts sewn together by bittersweet nostalgia. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next. [ james, 24, they/them, est, n/a ]

MENTIONS OF MEDICAL CONDITIONS (ASTHMA), CHILDHOOD ILLNESS, INFERTILITY, A BRIEF PANIC ATTACK, AND A BRIEF FAMILIAL DEATH BEYOND THIS POINT.

profile.

full name: eden beatrice shepherd.

birthday: september 4th, 1991.

astrology: virgo sun, cancer moon, sagittarius ascending.

sexuality: bisexual.

currently listening to: simulation swarm by big thief.

current mood: afraid 😱

current location: [[[cannot be found]]]

last tweet: ...im pretty sure i just found a box of vintage sex toys in the basement. thanks grandma! #scarred

PINTEREST.

history.

grows up in a tiny commune off asbury grove, surrounded by nothing but woods; it's her mother, her father, and their entire gaggle of children. eden's not the first, nor would she be the last.

it's a good community - holistic, and the kids are homeschooled - but it's a good community. tightknit, everyone helps everyone and nobody is left abandoned. eden spends her days learning about the life cycle of insects and birds, what it means to die; the lifespan of trees and the evils of deforestation.

MEDICAL CONDITION / CHILDHOOD ILLNESS; eden's first asthma attack is sudden and sharp; a breathlessness she's never felt before, a new fear fresh in her six year old body. the body remembers its trauma - and even now, she can still feel that ache from her first attack. it's a downwards, upwards, and all around sideways spiral after then - combined with a weak immune system, she's quick to sicken. pneumonia and bronchitis, as soon as the flowers bloom.

the commune is great, and it's her home - but they can't provide the help she needs, not anymore; her grandmother, ada, takes her in - only for summers at first, just so she can get the treatment she needs at the local hospital, still near family.

she falls in love with nightrest quickly - has never seen the beach before then, doesn't know the joys yet of crystal clear waters - can only admire how the ocean stretches beyond the horizon. she loves her grandmother too - she's her favorite, after all - and they spend almost all their time together, manning ada's antique shop. ada teaches eden to knit, to sew - how to put a nail through wood, the sweet taste of their fruits of labor. how to be independent, how to be reliable. how to live.

her childhood and teenhood is split between the commune and nightrest; split between two worlds, but after spending summer after summer in the small town - eden and her grandmother send in a scholarship application for wardwell. she's always excelled in school - their homeschooling regime surprisingly strict, more advanced than she would've been otherwise - but it's still a surprise when eden's actually accepted into the private institute.

her courses aren't as hard as she thought they'd be, much less a worry than the student population; whispers of her being the weird commune girl - the girl who walks the town barefoot, middle of the night - nightgown blowing against the wind. she's a witch, they whisper. schoolyard taunts making up for years of missed elementary teasing. eden never pays them much mind - head always held high, eyes always cast down upon those who look at her the wrong way.

the one thing eden finds, is that attention finds her. whether it's curious interest or purposeful distaste, or a deeper temptation - she entertains it, bathes in it; her reputation goes from witch to whore, and all she does is smile.

high school comes and goes, and so do all the rumors - their weight heavy on her shoulders towards the latter years; but university is different. after consoling her grandmother, then her parents, then half the commune - insisting her health is in perfect condition - eden packs up and heads to boston university.

she majors in bioengineering - it's an umbrella of all the things she cares about; healthcare, and agriculture - energy and sustainability. gets through all four years and half of her masters program before meeting the love of her life.

andrew dyers puts all her worries at ease with just the sound of his voice. his peace is hers; he's her voice of reason, when her thoughts scatter her. she puts her masters degree on pause, just to travel the world with him. leaves everything she's ever known, because all she wants is to be by his side. it's scary - eden's asthma's improved little by little throughout the years, and she doesn't get as sick nearly as often - but he's always stood by her. even during their fights - storming off in the middle of european cities, cold shoulders and silent treatments - he's never left her side.

when he proposes - it's the happiest eden's ever been. marriage was once a distant thought - and now she's trying on wedding dresses, tasting cakes - picking out her perfect venue, all the way in greece.

INFERTILITY; it's partially a routine visit, and partially eden preparing for their future together in advance - when she finds out the news. she can't have children - at least not of her own, not from her. not with drew. and her world collapses before her, her dreams and pinterest boards crumbling down.

she keeps the news from drew - doesn't want to confront it, doesn't want to think of it - she knows that he'd still love her, still want to be with her; but her mind's a jumble of thoughts - there's too much to plan, and the back of her mind starts voicing doubts.

PANIC ATTACK / ASTHMA; the day of the wedding is the culmination of her every doubt, her every fear - she has a panic attack for the first time in her life, triggers her asthma - is practically glued to her inhaler. everything is too much for her, the future suddenly so unclear - her worries finally shattering her. and she runs. she abandons her wedding - abandons drew - and gets on the nearest flight back to massachusetts.

her grandmother welcomes her back with open arms - listens to her, cries with her - and nightrest is where eden stays. it's coincidental, but ada's health's declining and it's the perfect time for eden to stay around the house, to care for her. it's also her excuse, in a way - as awful as it feels.

FAMILIAL DEATH; that was almost two years ago; with ada's recent passing, eden inherits not only her grandmother's antique business, but her house as well - a given, considering ada's business was out of her home.

suddenly a business & homeowner - eden's been busy managing ada's financial affairs, fixing her books - refurbishing and restoring her victorian home in all its glory. it's not the life eden had expected - or particularly wanted, at first. but she feels happier now, compared to when she first ran away.

traits.

ASTHMA; first thing's first she's an asthma girlie<3 has that inhaler ON HER at all times. her asthma attacks aren't that often or as bad anymore bt u never know. she's kind of scared of them #scarredforlife

rly kind n will go out of her way to help others whether it's with tasks or with advice or literally. anything. is the type to cook u chicken soup if u say u have a sneeze.

at the same time though she's pretty closed off when it comes to her own personal problems or Deep Feelings. a little repressed.

it's a mix of being overlooked by her parents as a middle kid, sometimes - to being fussed over too much, when she was sick. to being talked about in high school, and just plain being stubborn.

personable when it comes to others like she knows ur favorite color, ur big three zodiacs, and what u did last summer.

DIY queen she does everything herself because why spend money when u can do it urself. does not stop

her grandmother's house-slash-antique shop is like a very old victorian that her grandmother snagged right when the family moved to nightrest. it's her family home before her dad joined the commune w her mom so there's a lot of history there n it makes eden feel. comforted idk

the ground floor is pretty much just all antique shit. almost a hoarder's situation to the point where eden's been going through pieces and seeing what's even valuable / worth selling. the only semi-cleared space is the kitchen n bathroom but otherwise eden stays upstairs.

she has a doberman named daisy mae because when murders first started happening in the town eden said<3 absolutely not. n got herself a guard dog. she's trained her very well n she's very proud of it.

also a little bit emotional support bc eden is like. a bit all over the place. a little highstrung, at times, i'd say.

she hides it very well bc she makes lists and pinterest boards n has a Need to Plan everything to the T but when things stop going her way or she feels like she's losing control she like unravels a bit into a mess of anxiety. #anxiousqueen

is a bit. broke admittedly. ran through her savings when taking care of her grandmother n is just hoping that the business will be enough to get her by. if needed she can fall back on her degree but her passion's a bit. misplaced atm

bet ur ass she kept every single piece of designer that drew bought her throughout their relationship. she feels immense guilt about the entire runaway bride thing but these items r sentimental ok. they're kinda comforting. even though eden's in the wrong. let her be delulu.

has not been in a committed relationship since drew. he was her only serious one tbh. big fan of hookups n the concept of friends w benefits, even moreso one night stands. nobody is allowed to sleep in the same bed as her, she'll probably sneak out when they're asleep if its not at her place.

definitely a bit of an overthinker. she has to analyze everything.

will be honest with u. will try to be nice about it, without sugar-coating it. will speak her thoughts if she has to.

holds a grudge like a motherfucker. she's hard to anger, and already has too much patience for others - but when u get on her bad side, ur there for life. queen of passive aggressive comments and never letting it go. will bring it up in conversation n acknowledgement will not satiate her.

has mastered the silent treatment. she goes so silent when she's upset n thats how u know u've fucked up.

i think thats all! truthfully idk if any of this will be true when i actually write her so!<3

relationships.

childhood friends, from when she spent her summers in nightrest to when she moved for school. people who've known her since high school.

consistent friends who've been by her side for years n have supported her on the sidelines

people who were like wtf? when she just ran away from her wedding bc that probably got her on some shit lists even if they didn't know drew personally. bc eden definitely didn't tell anyone why.

enemies<3 moreso from when they were younger probably but like i said. eden holds a grudge of a lifetime. she'll be like i know u called me a whore in 11th grade because ur boyfriend liked staring at my tits more than looking at even just ur face. n thats not my problem i hope u got the help u needed. sounds like it was traumatic.

hookups obv. one night stands n friends w benefits n people who like get that she doesn't need anything serious rn and never has.

unrequited crushes mostly on her but sometimes<3 her heart does things<3 n she is susceptible to a pretty face on occasion.

please let her be the unofficial aunt to ur muses' children she loves kids so much n gets along w them so well

college friends!! people who knew her as this like <3 passionate science nerd n is just like ? this isnt bioengineering ? standing in her shop

shop patrons <3 please fund eden's life. the store is nice i promise. just a little old.

neighbors i love a civil small talk that isnt about murder. people who've known ada growing up themselves n have their own funny little stories abt ada bc she was a bit like<3 eccentric i think.

but also actually a close friend group wld be nice? like a best friend or somebody she can tell her secrets to <3 give me like the one person who knows she's infertile. let her traumadump!!!

[theonemarvelousness]

A Reminder of Darker Nights

Halloween is a delightful season, and as a long-standing professor of Night Raven College, he can profess that watching the enthusiasm of the students grow every year (even if it is in rivalry with one-another) is a joy! A treat!

The displays are gorgeous. The costumes are inventive and exciting. He can feel the swell in the air that even his old bones feel a little lighter seeing.

Diasomnia is a delightful display to be—he once took a trip to the far eastern kingdom represented in the display. It was for research, not pleasure (like most of his trips). His daughters were so small then, too. It was…

It makes him feel a twinge of nostalgia for something long gone. Ah, but time continues to move forward and life continues to race by—he is content. Perhaps he should suggest they take a trip next year to see Halloween at Night Raven College. He’ll have to start arranging soon for that, they’re all so busy.

Amusing, though, is the scene off to the side. Lilia is fussing over Silver’s outfit, adjusting the beads and moving his hair with a fond smile. To think, who that fae is…

The air in his office is different. There is a presence he didn’t expect. His pen raised, ready for—ah. In the dim light of the moon through the window he can see the heap in the large couch he has for students. Black hair spread all over. A mess of a being that’s splayed out, covered in black cloth. Robes, he assumes. An arm over its eyes. The tell-tale ends of hot pink.

The General Vanrogue he remembers.

Two empty bottles sit on the chairside table. Empty and on their side. Another sits, half-full. A wine glass empty beside it. Another full glass sits on his desk. Considerate…

”You could have warned me.” Tucking his pen away, the professor goes to snag the glass. Ah, fae wine. Of course. Taking a seat in another open chair, he looks at the mess of a fae. “Especially in your form.”

”Mmm…” The arm moves away, head turning. Blood red eyes look as old as they ever have. The expression on that eternally youthful face is both old and young all at once—beautiful, really. Yet fae are closer to monsters than men. This, with the fangs of those parting lips remembers that he sits with one of the deadliest beings in all of Twisted Wonderland.

”A shapeshifting potion is not taken lightly, and unlike our mer-students, you take yours without guidance from a medical professional. Nor do you take anything for the side-effects, Lilia.” He comments, taking a sip. It’s—a depth of flavor that he can still never pinpoint. A rich blend of berries, but with a magical spark to it that makes it tingle for hours. Lilia has two bottles or so down, and he knows a glass is more than enough. “But I know your circumstance; I am not here to lecture you.”

”It sounds like one.” Cheeky, at least there’s that. Otherwise, he’d be worried. He is in poor condition. There is a reason why these potions are so highly regulated in Twisted Wonderland. Despite being a powerful fae, he cannot avoid consequence to recklessness. “I know the risk, Mozus… I accepted them.”

”I doubt there are few royals that can claim such loyal vassals such as yourself.” A truthful comment. Malleus has loyalty from his retainers that one cannot buy. The genuine affection and care they have is remarkable.

”I watched him hatch.”

”I—”

”I will not watch him perish.”

Lilia Vanrogue, the Nightmare General, has lost both King and heirs in his life. The statement shouldn’t be a surprise, but the force and conviction in the old fae’s voice strikes him to his heart. The look in his eyes is more than determined, a dark, old flame lit ablaze—renewed many times. He can understand how this is the creature that has become a mark in history books as something to fear.

”Lilia. He is at school. He is safe here.”

”And after.”

”Malleus Draconia is a powerful fae, much more powerful than I have ever witnessed or will. He will be safe. He has you to guide him.”

The fae pauses, and settles back, almost melting like a shadow into the chair. He grasps the bottle with a spell, and it’s to his maw. He drinks deeply, emptying this one, before it’s placed carelessly aside, too. The glass is still in his hand. “I am not willing to argue with you, Mozus.”

”He will be fine.”

”I thought that of the other heir.”

The smiling, small figure fussing over the sleepy student is a sharp contrast to the distraught warrior in his office a few nights ago.

He prefers this.

Hopefully, the joy of Halloween will carry longer than the week event.

[motownfiction]

nostalgia

Will has never really understood nostalgia.

He has fond memories of things that happened before, especially now that he and Lucy live away from their home. But that persistent longing is beyond him. He doesn’t understand why people can’t just live in the moment. It’s all they really have, anyway. The past is a lie, and the future is nothing. The present is malleable, a liquid metal in your hands. You can make it look however you need it to, so long as you stop surrendering to the other tenses. To him, it’s easy.

To Elenore, it’s like pulling all the teeth out of her mouth and then eating an entire steak.

Once Elenore gets to be a teenager, nostalgia is the biggest bone of contention between her and Will. And if Elenore were nostalgic for her own childhood, then maybe Will would understand. But it’s not that. It’s so much weirder than that. Somehow, Elenore, who was born in 1984, is nostalgic for the mid-seventies.

“How can you want to go back there?” Will asks, shaking his head at Elenore’s latest musical purchase. “The Night Chicago Died,” one of the worst songs ever made.

“I don’t know,” Elenore says. “I just do.”

“Well, figure it out, because I’m fucking baffled, man. The seventies were terrible. No money, tons of problems, some of the shittiest music I’ve ever heard.”

“You didn’t mind it so much when we were in it,” Lucy reminds him.

“Yeah, Dad,” Elenore says. Now that she’s fourteen, she’s taken to calling him Dad when she’s pissed at him, which is pretty much all the time. “Maybe you’re looking back, too.”

“If I’m looking back, then it’s objective,” Will says, and he almost completely believes himself. “When you look back … hell, you’re not even looking back. You’re imagining.”

“So?”

“So … go out there and make something of 1998. Fuck 1974. Fuck it all. You weren’t there, and you don’t need to pretend like you were, either. It’s not good for you.”

He’s surprised to see Elenore’s eyes flood with tears. She runs back to her bedroom and slams the door behind her. Will stands in the kitchen with his mouth hanging open, just a little bit. Lucy comes around and furrows her brows at him.

“Congratulations,” Lucy says. “I think you just said all the wrong things.”

“I don’t get it,” Will says. “How is it wrong to tell her that she should make the most out of what she has today?”

“Because you’re not seeing this from her point of view. How old were we when Elenore was born?”

“Seventeen.”

“Exactly. Seventeen. Technically, for about another year, we were still children. We were children while our daughter was a child. And every year she gets older, she realizes what that means.”

“What means what?”

“Elenore’s fourteen, Will. That’s only three years younger than we were when we took her home from the hospital. She knows how young that really is. When she’s seventeen, she won’t be ready to raise a baby, and she already knows it.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with nostalgia.”

“Will. She wants to go back to a time when we were really kids. She wants to know what it was like then. It freaks her out that we were still kids when she was born. She wants to know what things were like before then.”

Will sighs. He’s not sure what to say to that. He still doesn’t understand the pleasure of looking back, in joy or fear or sadness. But he figures he owes a little something to Elenore.

He slides the Paper Lace record under her door in the hopes that it will help. When it’s not there an hour later, he’s pretty sure he did the right thing.

[psepha]

The hum of the river

(Han’s song)

Was sobbing, silently, with a vain dignity, on that bench On my own, helplessly, wiping my tears and fears  You saw me, gently asked if there was any dust in my eyes Respectfully, kept your sight out my face, sat quietly beside me Waiting for the moment when I would vent and collapse, eventually  You were staring at my note book too curious but too shy to ask Shamelessly, I handed it to you and with surprise you gasped The mood and atmosphere were changing, softly  Filling the air with an odd nostalgia and a welcomed relief  While the sky was covered with orange clouds Comfort came from the brightness of all the windows Each one, like a star, with its own warmth Shining in the night, countless vibrant lights A constellation of dramas, joys and stories Reflected, blurry and sparkly, on the quiet river Your head came up, trying to seek where I was looking Speechless, we were both moved by the scenery On the river’s bank, shadows indistinguishably were moving, so close but unknown In their own universe, weaving their own singular memories Clueless about the threads of their many destinies Loneliness, a burden, the shield of my buried field At this moment, with you by my side, I started to feel less alone inside Slowly, you let your hand run over the rough wood Like a call, I let my fingertips caress your palm Suddenly you grabbed my hand, firmly, irrepressibly, carefully We knew that this moment would be our first and our last Maybe in another timeline we could have been yours and mine But time flies, the sun started to colour the rain and the sky Even though I didn’t see the colour of your eyes, I can still feel the contour your smile Dear cloudy night, I worship you for the rest of my life

Written by Claire D.

[betweenboxes]

Unique Rakhi Gift Ideas for Sisters: Personalized Delights for Raksha Bandhan

Raksha Bandhan, a festival celebrating the eternal bond between brothers and sisters, is a time of joy, love, and cherished memories. One of the highlights of this auspicious occasion is the exchange of gifts. Finding the perfect Rakhi gift for your sister can be a delightful yet challenging task. However, fear not! We have curated a list of unique and personalized Rakhi gifts for sister that are sure to make this Raksha Bandhan extra special for your beloved sister.

Customized Rakhi Gifts for Sister

Customized gifts add a personal touch that makes them truly special. They show that you have put thought and effort into choosing something unique for your sister. Here are some customized Rakhi gift ideas that will surely bring a smile to her face:

Personalized Jewelry: A piece of personalized jewelry, such as a pendant with her initials or a bracelet with a meaningful charm, makes for a timeless and cherished gift. You can also opt for a custom-made Rakhi bracelet that she can wear on her wrist as a symbol of your bond.

Customized Photo Frame: Compile a collage of memorable photos featuring you and your sister and have them framed in a customized photo frame. Add a heartfelt message or a Raksha Bandhan quote to make it even more special.

Customized Apparel: Gift your sister a customized t-shirt, hoodie, or pajama set with a quirky design or a meaningful message. You can also personalize it with her favorite colors, patterns, or quotes that resonate with your bond.

Personalized Stationery: If your sister loves stationery, consider gifting her personalized notebooks, journals, or pens with her name or a special message engraved or printed on them. It's a thoughtful and practical gift that she can use every day.

Customized Home Decor: Surprise your sister with customized home decor items such as cushions, mugs, wall art, or a personalized calendar featuring your favorite moments together. These gifts will add a touch of warmth and nostalgia to her living space.

Raksha Bandhan Gift for Sister Ideas

Apart from personalized gifts, there are several other Raksha Bandhan gift ideas that you can explore to make this occasion memorable for your sister:

Gift Hamper: Create a thoughtful gift hamper containing her favorite chocolates, snacks, skincare products, books, or any other items she loves. Personalize the hamper by adding a handwritten note expressing your love and appreciation.

Spa or Pampering Session: Treat your sister to a relaxing spa day or a pampering session at a salon. You can gift her a spa voucher or book an appointment for her favorite beauty treatments to help her unwind and rejuvenate.

Subscription Services: Consider gifting your sister a subscription to her favorite streaming service, magazine, or beauty box. It's a gift that keeps on giving, providing her with entertainment or curated products throughout the year.

Experience Gifts: Create lasting memories by gifting your sister an experience she'll cherish, such as tickets to a concert, theater show, cooking class, or a weekend getaway. Choose an experience that aligns with her interests and preferences.

DIY Gifts: Get creative and make a DIY gift for your sister, such as a handmade photo album, a scrapbook of your adventures together, or a jar filled with personalized notes of appreciation and love. Handmade gifts add a personal and sentimental touch to the occasion.

Rakhi Gift for Sister: A Token of Love and Appreciation

Whether you opt for a customized gift, a thoughtful gesture, or a memorable experience, the essence of Raksha Bandhan lies in expressing love, gratitude, and appreciation for your sister. The bond between siblings is a lifelong journey filled with laughter, support, and shared memories, and Rakhi is a beautiful reminder of this cherished relationship.

As you choose the perfect Rakhi gift for your sister, remember that it's the thought and effort you put into the gesture that truly matters. Whether it's a personalized gift that reflects her unique personality or a thoughtful experience that creates lasting memories, your sister will appreciate the love and thoughtfulness behind your gesture.

In conclusion, Raksha Bandhan is not just a festival; it's a celebration of sibling love and the special bond between brothers and sisters. Make this Rakhi memorable for your sister with a heartfelt and personalized gift that symbolizes your love, admiration, and appreciation for her presence in your life. Happy Raksha Bandhan!

In the spirit of celebrating the unique bond between siblings and the joy of selecting the perfect Rakhi gift for your sister, I invite you to explore BetweenBoxes.in, a perfect website that caters to all gifting needs for Raksha Bandhan and a lot more in the Gifting Genre . Our website is a treasure trove of curated and customized Rakhi gifts designed to make this Raksha Bandhan truly memorable. From personalized jewelry and thoughtful keepsakes to luxurious spa vouchers and gourmet hampers, Between Boxes offers a wide range of options that cater to the discerning tastes of Indian sisters. With convenient online shopping and delivery services, you can surprise your sister with a heartfelt gift that reflects your love and appreciation, no matter where she is. Visit BetweenBoxes.in today and discover the joy of gifting with a personal touch this Raksha Bandhan.

[candystore111]

What Are the Best Lollies to Include in Your Pick n Mix?

If there's one thing that never fails to bring a smile to both young and old alike, it's a delightful pick n mix selection. And at the heart of any fantastic pick n mix experience are, of course, the lollies. These sweet treats have an uncanny ability to transport us back to childhood with every lick and crunch. But with so many options available, how do you choose the best lollies NZ online for your pick n mix? Fear not, because we've got you covered! In this guide, we'll explore the top contenders and where you can find them - yes, you guessed it - lollies online!

Unwrapping the Magic: Why Lollies Rule the Pick n Mix World. Before we dive into the world of lollies NZ online, let's take a moment to appreciate why they're the stars of any pick n mix show. Lollies bring a unique combination of flavour, texture, and nostalgia that few other candies can match. Whether you prefer the sharp tang of sour lollies or the comforting sweetness of classic fruit flavours, there's a lolly out there for everyone. Their convenient stick or handle also makes them perfect for on-the-go snacking, and let's not forget the joy they bring to children's parties and gatherings!

Sourcing Sweetness: The Advantages of Buying Lollies Online

Now that we're firmly in the lolly-loving camp let's talk about why getting your fix online is a game-changer. Lollies online offers an unparalleled variety that your local store might struggle to match. With just a few clicks, you can explore an extensive range of lolly options, from timeless classics to exotic, hard-to-find treats. Plus, online retailers often provide detailed product descriptions and customer reviews, helping you make informed decisions about which lollies will make it into your pick n mix NZ bag.

The Cream of the Crop: Must-Have Lollies for Your Pick n Mix 1. Fruity Fiesta When it comes to pick n mix perfection, fruity lollies are a non-negotiable. These classics never go out of style and bring a burst of natural flavour with every lick. Look out for options like juicy strawberry, zesty lemon, and tangy orange. For an extra special twist, consider watermelon or exotic tropical fruit lollies that can transport your taste buds to a sunny paradise. 2. Sour Sensations For those who like a little pucker with their sweet, sour lollies, it is the way to go. These tongue-tingling treats come in a range of intensities, from mildly tart to eye-wateringly sour. Try out flavours like green apple and blue raspberry, or even daring combinations like sour cherry cola. Just be prepared for a flavour explosion that'll keep you coming back for more. 3. Novelty Delights Inject a dose of fun into your pick n mix with novelty lollies. From lollipops shaped like animals to ones that change colours or have hidden surprises inside, these lollies are guaranteed to add an element of playfulness to your selection. Don't be surprised if these become the stars of your pick n mix lineup! 4. Creamy Dreamy Treats For a lolly experience that's a little more luxurious, consider including creamy options in your pick n mix. Think rich caramel-filled lollies, smooth chocolate-covered varieties, or even velvety yogurt-coated treats. These lollies provide a satisfying contrast to the sharper, fruity flavours and add a touch of indulgence to your mix. 5. Classic Confections No pick n mix would be complete without paying homage to the classics. Traditional lollipops, such as those with gum centres or swirls of vibrant colours, offer a taste of nostalgia that's hard to beat. These timeless treats are the backbone of any well-balanced pick n mix NZ assortment.

Wrapping Up

Armed with this lolly-centric guide, you're now ready to curate the pick and mix of your dreams. Remember, the key is to strike a balance between flavours, textures, and a touch of whimsy. So go ahead, dive into the world of lollies NZ online and let your creativity run wild. Your taste buds will thank you, and your inner child will be forever grateful for the trip down memory lane!

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 184,

I think the illness itself has passed, although I’m still recovering after nearly two weeks of little food, rest, or physical activity.  I feel weak, hollowed out both physically and emotionally.  Yet, I cannot deny a strange sort of catharsis.  As if this ragged state is proof of overcoming a great trial, on the other side of which I’ve come out purified, purged of something although I know not what.  

I can walk on my own once more, even if I needs must pause to lean on a wall after a short distance.  Once again I can know the joy of eating solid food, even if a shrunken appetite limits my portions.  Soon, I hope to properly bathe myself once more, even if the water will like as not grow cold ere I finish my ablutions.  

*******

Is there anything so glorious as a vigorous scrubbing after too long without?  Probably, but that does not detract from this feeling of refreshment.  

*******

Shortly after that last entry I realized my bed was bare.  Apparently, Lin took my bedsheets to wash while I bathed.  It seems she was waiting for a moment I wouldn’t be around to object to the aid and left Maiko with instructions to not let me head out to help with the task.  Prescient moves on her part to be sure.  

I feel I owe the two of them so much, although as Lin was quick to point out when she returned, this is literally her job, and even if it wasn’t it’s what friends do for one another.  But she added that if payment for professional services rendered will make me feel better, then I can make it up to her and Maiko by bringing them along on my next “camping trip.”

That exchange aside, the rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a comfortable placidity, alternating between casual banter and companionable silence.  Truthfully, I contributed little to the conversation, content to listen to the sound of friendly voices and making the occasional commentary to let them know I hadn’t passed out.  Even Maiko spoke more than I did.  Come to think of it, she was more talkative than I’d grown used to her being.  Good for her.  

Now though, before I retire for the night, there’s a less happy point I feel I must put to paper.  Whether to call it bad, I’m still conflicted about, for it distresses me less than it perhaps ought to.  

The night before last, I awoke to hands running through my hair and stroking my cheek.  Nearby I could faintly make out a sort of rumbling sound, like a heavy wooden sphere rolling around the inside of a hollow container.  For some reason it brought to mind the purring of a cat, although it really sounded nothing like a purr.  Perhaps some old world associative memory.  There was certainly a sense of deep nostalgia attached to it.  Whatever the case, combined with the repetitive gentle touch, it induced an immeasurably comforting sense of peace and safety.

Which makes the source of these sensations all the more unsettling in retrospect.

My eyes slowly opening, and even more slowly adjusting to the moonlit room I came to realize the nature sprite was crouched by my bed, cradling my head in its hands as it slowly and minutely rocked back and forth.  For a wonder, I did not start or cry out, neither out of surprise nor in an effort to rouse Maiko, whose slumbering form I espied on a chair in the far corner.  Perhaps I was too weak to do so.  But, really, I think it was because in that moment I had no fear of the creature.  Never would I have guessed that its touch could be that gentle, its vocalizations so soothing.

I should have been afraid of that thing.  I should hate it.  But…

But then and there, I felt like nothing so much as the six month old infant that I in so many ways am, suffering, on the verge of tears, and being held by a parent singing a lullaby.  The memory of that moment is a pleasant one, happy even.  And that in and of itself frightens me to dwell on.  Did it do something to me to make me accept it, or is that just a normal human reaction to apparent acts of tender kindness?  My sleepwalking, did the sprite lead me out of the library that night?  And if it did, was it to lure me into the woods once more or to guide me back here where I had a more spacious room with better circulated air and windows letting in sunlight?

Once more I find myself unable to reconcile the actions of the inhuman as I ask myself what am I to it?  And the perhaps more troubling question, what is it to me?

I’ve not mentioned any of this to Lin or Maiko, but perhaps I ought to.  They both already know about the time the laund my encou what happe the other incident.

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