#its just me having a temporary frustration breakdown

[gracer222]

Love that celiac feeling when a single contaminated spatula means you have to throw out your whole meal and start from scratch ^^

[thebibliosphere]

Okay, I’m getting a lot of questions about stress losing its effectiveness as an ADHD coping skill and now how that can happen, so I’m going to paraphrase how my therapist explained it to me.

Stress as stimulus is a rubber band. 

It’s stretchy and can be expanded to hold multiple things together (deadlines, self-care, social obligations). But the thing about rubber bands is they only work for so long before they lose their elasticity, and suddenly you’re having to pull them tighter and tighter to get the same staying power.

Suddenly, a rubber band that had no issue holding a 12 pack of “pens” together for years will need to be double wrapped around itself to hold those same things in place. And sure, it still works. A couple of “pens” might fall out from time to time, but you can just put them back and wind things tighter, right?

Except you cannot use a rubber band indefinitely. 

No matter how tightly you wind it, the elastic will eventually be too stretched out to be useful and things will fall apart. It may even become brittle and snap, which is the worst-case scenario. Yet, many of us will still try to use the broken rubber band, all the while growing more and more frustrated that the thing that worked so well for so long is no longer serving its intended purpose. We might tie it together, creating functional knots in the elastic so that we can keep using it. But ultimately it’s a short-term fix and it will snap again soon. And it will keep snapping at more regular intervals until all you have left is broken pieces of elastic and what feels like your entire life scattered at your feet. 

Because a rubber band is not intended as a permanent solution to something. It is an effective yet temporary measure designed to hold things in place until something better comes along. 

And stress is the rubber band of the brain. 

It is an important survival tool that keeps us alive, aware of our surroundings and, in small, healthy doses, productive. Good stress exists. It releases important chemicals your brains need to function, like dopamine and adrenaline, which are things ADHD brains are extremely deficient in, and struggle to regulate in the same way neurotypical brains self-regulate. 

But where it becomes a problem is when you become reliant on it, and your brain and body stop having healthy stress responses. By utilizing stress constantly as a form of stimuli, you are effectively wearing out the rubber band that holds things together, and when it snaps, you’re left with a brain and body that’s been so fried by corsitol* you are left feeling burned out, tired, sickly and possibly even deeply depressed. And the more you do this, the harder it gets to bounce back from. 

Which can happen to neurotypical people too! Prolonged stress is not healthy for anyone! It just so happens that stress is an unfortunately useful form of stimuli, right up until it’s not. 

Using the rubber band of stress is easy. Learning not to use it is hard. But recovering from overusing it is even more so.

So what’s the solution? Unfortunately, there’s no simple answer. Therapy can help. Medication can help. Building better support structures and social groups can help. Changing your environment to be more accessible can help. Ultimately, you need to find things that work for you and do your best to make sure they are realistically attainable and also healthy. Which is no easy feat. It will be hard, but it is worth it. And I have to believe that because I’m a year into intensive therapy with what feels like minimal progress to show.

But as my therapist keeps reminding me. Progress is progress. Whether you move an inch or a mountain, you’re still moving, and that’s what counts.

---

*Note: yes, cortisol is a stress hormone, but that doesn’t make it Bad like I’ve seen some questionable people claim on here before. 

It is vital to our survival and wellbeing and is part of our internal warning system in much the same way histamine is required for healing and immune system regulation. The goal is not to have ZERO cortisol in your body (because that will also kill you) but to have healthy levels that respond appropriately to danger/stress and shuts off when you don’t need it. WebMD has a fairly concise breakdown of it here. (source)

[thesmokingguns]

Phone Tag

Word count: 3512

Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”

Requested by @littlemisscare-all

A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood

Ring, Ring, Ring

The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d  pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.

You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you.  You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.

You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters  on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.

He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?

“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.

When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.

It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.

So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.

Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?

He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,

You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.

Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.

As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..

Ring...Ring...Ri-

“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.

“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.

“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.

In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.

It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?

You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.

Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.

On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.

Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.

“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.

He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.

You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.

Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.

Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.

Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.

“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.

Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.

“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.

“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.

“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.

“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.” He moved to hang it back up.

“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.

“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.

“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.

“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.

“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.

“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.

“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.

“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.

“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed

[taechaos]

I was totally not stalking your blog :D, and caem across this drabble of the notebook were Oc is insecure about her body ans how jk would react, and it was so ummm good?, amazing?, fantastic? and now im kinda wondering how that same situation would go but with Tae from the idea series, only if it is okay

oh thank you so much :DD ALSO I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED BC THIS IS RLY EXCITING 😫😫 love me a stalker tho

ps not proofread cuz its 5 am lOLLoL

Nights are dreadful. You've been having trouble sleeping for some time now, each day going to sleep a little later than the day before, and normally you'd be worried about your sleep schedule for when you eventually go off to college, but you're not. You dread the night because not only do you toss and turn until the sun rises, but because of the overthinking that comes with.

Your hormones are toying with you, from the self-deprecating thoughts to breaking out. If the blemishes and the scars aren't enough, you feel heavier. Normally, you wouldn't care so much for these factors because it's the cycle of life and mother nature, and usually there's no one around to judge you; but Taehyung is in your bed every night, and he sees you every day.

Now, you didn't use to care so much about Taehyung's thoughts about your appearance because he's your step-brother. That was until you began harboring some feelings for him due to a few turn of events, and well, now you're insecure and care about what he thinks. And he's around you all the time, so he's destined to judge you at some point.

These thoughts, along with the fact that you don't like yourself so much right now, are not helping. They're haunting, if anything, and you turn on your side in the dead of the night with Taehyung sleeping on the other end of the bed.

At least you thought he was until he smacked your hip over the blanket with a grumble. "Stop fucking moving, damn." He doesn't sound like he just woke up, instead his tone is alert and slightly irritated. Nights with you have been disastrous because he can't cuddle you from how many times you switch positions and the way you refuse affection. He's stopped himself from slapping you multiple times for whacking his hand away or your witty remarks. Such a bitch.

"Go to your own room then," you huff in a hushed voice and roll your eyes. Your back no longer faces him when he pulls on your shoulder, prompting you to look up at him with crossed arms. He's not impressed with his empty gaze; clearly tired after a busy day and still up at 4 AM. He props his elbow to lean his cheek on his fist.

"Are you afraid I'm going to fuck you in your sleep or something? That was a one time thing– okay, maybe more than once," he rolls his eyes when you look at him sarcastically with high brows and low lids, "but it's not like I'll do it again! I respect women and consent and all that good stuff now, so with this reassurance, let's fucking sleep already." He taps your cheek before throwing his arm over your chest and snuggling his face into your shoulder, his figure practically covering half of you. You don't move as he blows out a deep breath through his nose, clearly relaxed while you still have your eyes open.

A moment of silence passes, and Taehyung whose sense of time is greatly flawed, peeks an eye open to see if you're asleep after twenty seconds of waiting. "Are you awake?"

"No, Tae, I sleep with my eyes open," you spit and he immediately flicks your forehead with his finger. You whine at the sting. The sibling energy irks you when you think about his impact on your sleep schedule, and so on...

"No wonder you always look like a zombie nowadays," he sighs with a shake of his head before joking, "Ugly."

The only sensible reason as to why tears well up in your eyes instantly is that your period is approaching. That must be it, you convince yourself and purse your lips to stop the gradual trembling. It simply isn't the best time to joke about your appearance, because lately your heart intends to take everything so seriously. You hate your current sensitivity, but you can't exactly lower it on a scale.

So you just hold it in.

Taehyung waits for a response for a whole minute before squinting at your side profile. He can see another layer building up on your eye, and he holds himself up by his palm to get a closer look. "Are you good?"

When someone tries really hard to hold back tears, it's so easy for them to break down just by hearing the question: "Are you okay?" Taehyung isn't so empathetic in his approach, but the result is the same when you blink. It's 4 AM for God's sake, people play truth or dare after midnight for a reason. It feels just so intimate at this time, and you can't help the one sob that slips past your lips.

Your step-brother stares wide-eyed at you before bursting out in laughter. "Oh my God, don't tell me you're crying because I called you ugly?"

"Shut up," you demand with a wavering voice. Not the best time to be mocked either.

"Princess, I was kidding," he straddles you by sitting on your thighs to lean down, hands palming your flushed cheeks as he chuckles. "You cry so easily."

Taehyung is arguably either the worst or the best consolation by how he makes your sadness feel so out of place; stupid and worthless.

"I know I look like shit, okay?" you hiccup and slap his hands away to wipe your tears. "You don't have to be around me all the time if you find me so ugly. You know I'm insecure. Wh-why would you say that?"

He clicks his tongue and brushes away the hair strands sticking to your face. "Because I didn't know you'd be so offended by it. Princess, take a joke; I was just commenting on your eyebags. You look like a fucking raccoon."

Your cries get a little more heartwretching when you struggle to breathe over your hiccups and sobs. "You're so mean!" you cover the top of your face in shame. "Do you enjoy watching me cr-cry?"

"Kind of," he scratches the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Your sudden temporary silence makes him sweatdrop and avoid eye contact. "Okay, listen, no, I just don't feel bad about it. I mean I would be mad if someone else made you cry, but you're crying over a joke–"

"Just leave," you cut in with a sniffle. You stare at the ceiling as your lips fall into a hard line. Though you know you'll change your mind later, right now he's more toxic than you can bear. Every word he says cuts deep. "You're making it all worse."

"Okay, wait," he holds up his hand with a sigh. "Tell me what you're insecure about. Your body? I'm the only one who'll ever see it, so who gives a–"

"You called me ugly."

"You are gorgeous, okay?" he emphasizes each word and closes in on your face. "There is nothing I don't love about you. Ugh," he shivers, "didn't mean to sound romantic."

You're growing sleepy as the aftermaths of your breakdown, and you can only muster a chuckle at his genuine distress.

"Well, I already started, so I'll go full simp mode, your body is a temple, queen. Scratch that, you're my fucking goddess. I want to worship you, but someone's been too busy crying and staying up to notice my sexual frustration for the past week."

A laugh escapes you at his antics that you only get a glimpse of every now and then. You know he doesn't know how to comfort you or take care of you when you cry, but his humor works in his favor.

"By the way, I can't believe you didn't let me touch you," he scoffs. "I was going to start doing it in your sleep again, but you wouldn't even do that! Then you go around, bitching and whining about being ugly like a stupid girl."

"Stupid? I–"

He cuts you off by pressing his index finger on your lips. "Don't talk. You're pretty and sexy, especially when you cry. Let me do the thinking for you, stupid girl. Do one thing right and go to sleep, I'll take care of the rest."

[editorialsonlife]

Yikes what a chaotic mess life is at the moment honestly. In both a physical and mental and organisational sense and I’m trying to be kind and compassionate to myself about it but like, fucking hell I feel like it’s the end of March and the whole year has been a mess so far and it’s frustrating.

We moved in over the weekend even though the house isn’t done and it’s Fkn frustrating. We can’t unpack anything properly so we’re basically living off microwave food and other shit. Until all the tidy ups are done the fridge is plugged in in the spare room so I can’t work at home and there’s all kinds of issues there.

Work is challenging. Like fun but fuck me its hard yakka. So much history, so much bad behaviour, so much negativity on all fronts and it’s just bloody rough. So that’s taking a toll as well.

Dave is burnt out like heck. He had Friday and today off though which has helped but we need the house to be done so he can have longer I think. We’re in for a punishing April and May where we’re away four weekends in a row (covid permitting) And that’s gunna be a lot.

And to top it all off I’ve hit a distressing new highest weight and being in both the apartment and now at home and in work lifts I’ve realised I really haven’t seen my whole body in a mirror consistently in a long while. And there was a day I was walking down the street and saw my reflection and literally didn’t recognise myself and it’s just horrendous and I feel terrible. And then because I feel utterly miserable I eat more shit food. And I know the last 8 weeks are a temporary sitch and I know the moment we get a cooktop back it’s gunna be veges for life but fucking hell I’m finding it really not to hate my body and fall into an absolute pit of despair at the moment. It’s not good. And made challenging by the fact I can’t track calories without being obsessive over it and the Fitbit is actually horrendous for my mental health and I can’t pick just one direction and commit to it right now (thanks chaos brain) and it’s just a shitty analysis paralysis cycle tbh. I Fkn hate it.

So yay. But in classic life is shit it’s also Fkn great though. The renos are done and the house is ANAZING and so function now and it looks cool and we’re so stoked with it man and work is good and let’s be real, I’ve made it through these 8 weeks with no major breakdowns at all which most definitely would not have been the case 8 months ago or 2 years ago so like how good is personal growth ya know???

Living a pretty Fkn good life right now despite everything.

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester in the Bjreaus talk

It’s yelling about Fjorester hours. I haven’t done this breakdowns in a while but there’s so much to analyze in that Bjreau’s talk and so much subtext and admissions and feelings in Fjord’s explanations that I really need to go step by step

this is mostly focused on the Fjorester side of the conversation because so many people have already broken down the BY in it and maybe i will too later but for now let me focus on my main OTP because wow 

Beau: So…. Jester

Fjord: *pikachu panic*

Fjord: There it comes. I was wondering when that melodic intro was gonna hit. 

Fjord: J-J-Jester?

THE WAY HE STUTTERS HER NAME. IM SO SOFT. 

Beau: You know what I’m gonna ask, dude, right? Like, what’s the deal?

Fjord, still deflecting: when you come with the ‘dude’, yes, I know what you wanna as.

Fjord, getting serious suddenly: What? What about Jester?

THAT’S THE FACE YOU MAKE WHEN YOU KNOW YOU’VE BEEN CAUGHT ON UR CRUSH AND UR TRYING TO PLAY IT COOL BUT YOU’RE FREAKING OUT ENTIRELY

I MEAN THAT SMILE

Beau: 

Fjord:

Beau:

THEY BOTH KNOW. THEY ARE JUST DARING THE OTHER TO SAY IT OUT LOUD. 

Beau, finally giving in: You know how she feels about you. Or, at least, how she did. I don’t know if she still does.

*Fjord, immediately, starts touching his mouth in that nervous mannerism he always has when his image insecurities are brought up, like he wants to hide his tusks*

*i start quietly sobbing*

Fjord: I don’t either! I have no idea. 

DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING ABOUT FJORD, AFTER 108 EPISODES, ACKNOWLEDGING ALL THE FLIRTING JESTER USED TO DO AND THE FACT THAT SHE MIGHT HAVE HAD A CRUSH ON HIM EVEN IF HE DOESN’T KNOW IF THAT’S STILL THE CASE?

HE’S NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED THAT BEFORE

Fjord: I’m actually the less clued in as to how Jester feels. I actually tried to… ask, but I don’t know. 

WHEN FJORD? YOU HAVEN’T ASKED. SO WHEN DID YOU TRY? WHEN DID YOU WANT TO AND DIDN’T? WHAT CONVERSATION WAS YOU CAREFULLY TRYING TO SEE IF SHE STILL LOVES YOU? I NEED ANSWERS

Beau: You have to kinda be direct with Jester. Like, if you tried to side-step it-

Fjord: I get that. It’s just that there are more pressing matters at hand

I KNEW HE WASN’T GOING TO DO ANYTHING DURING TC BECAUSE SHE’S SO STRESSED ALREADY AND HE WANTS HER TO HAVE HER TIME AND ALL THEIR SUPPORT WITHOUT ADDING STRESS

Fjord: And… I feel like I’m the fourth version of myself since I left Port Damali. And I feel like it could change again in a month or three months. I feel as if the ground is shifting underneath my feet every few nights that I wake up. And it’s crazy, I actually love cause it’s all been for the better, it no matter how crazy it’s been, but what I wanted when this all began is so far in the past I can’t… I forget about it sometimes. It comes for me in the middle of the night. But… Jester is hard to ignore. 

I HAVE (as you might expect) SO MANY FEELINGS ABOUT THIS WHOLE LITTLE MONOLOGUE 

FJORD SUMMING UP SO MUCH OF HIS ARC AND HOW HE’S STILL NOW TRYING TO FIND HIMSELF AND WHO HE REALLY IS AND HOW HE KEEPS CHANGING AND GROWING

but clearly that lack of stability, as much as it thrills him, it also makes him anxious, not knowing who he will be next and what he will believe and what he will want

AN ALLUSION TO HIS DEATH THAT WE NEVER TALKED ABOUT BUT CLEARLY —CLEARLY— IS STILL IN HIS MIND AND SOMEONE NEEDS TO ADRESS ASAP PLS 

And then, right there after the nod to his death, Jester comes back into the statement. Fjord describes the changes and turmoil in his life like all of that is already too much to also focus on love… and then says but she’s still there, in my mind, by my side, all the time. In that mess of these pasts few months, Jester is his lighthouse

Beau: Yeah, no. I- I know! I’m pretty certain literally everyone has a crush on her. 

Fjord *panics like that Joey meme*: WHAT?

Beau: Like, at least all of Mighty Nein. I don’t know, though, but I’m pretty sure everyone she meets is like ‘well, I’d maybe kill for you, yeah’

Fjord: No, yeah, I totally agree with. 

ME TOO BJREAUS. ME TOO. 

Fjord: No, I- where is she?

I’M SO SAD THAT FJORD MISSED HIS PERCEPTION FOR HER BECAUSE I WONDER WHY TRAVIS WANTED TO KNOW SO BADLY 

I HAVE THE FEELING THERE WAS SOMETHING THERE OTHER THAN BEING CAREFUL SHE WOULDN’T HEAR HIM

Fjord: I... 

LOVE HER? WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO SAY FJORD WHAT

THIS PAUSE IS SO LONG IT’S AGING ME

Fjord: You know when someone makes you feel a way that you don’t think you have any right to feel? Or you never thought that you might?

I AM SCREAMING  

FJORD

BABY 

WHY DON’T YOU THINK YOU’RE EVEN ALLOWED TO LOVE HER

WHY NOT??

YOU DESERVE LOVE AND TO BE LOVED AND YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN LOVE HER LIKE PLS TRAVIS WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME ALL THIS PINING MY ROMANTIC ASS CAN’T HANDLE THIS

BUT ALSO LOOK AT THAT SMILE

HE’S SO IN AWE WITH HIS OWN FEELINGS AND HAPPINESS

Fjord: And that feels... off... because I should know how I feel or what I want! 

*low wisdom frustration intensifies*

Fjord: But... there’s a gravity around Jester, at least to me, and she’s the one I’ve known longest in this new part of my... life. And I really thought that when this started there would be an end for me in this, and I would get even or retribution or payback and then I’d be... done. And it hasn’t been that way at all! It shriveled up and died and in its place seven new interests sprouted and... 

[i can’t type the whole Academy thing, im too tired and this is so long already but what a great throwback]

Listen listen listen tho

i wanna talk about this

i wanna talk about fjord noticing jester’s crush and not acting on this because he was convinced the m9 were temporary

i want to talk about a part of him always feeling like this will eventually end and be ripped away from him and how then it kept going and going 

and this woman he met was just such a steady and supportive presence in his life through it all that finally, finally after months, he can’t deny that she’s part of his life for good??

but that also explains what he said before and how he’s afraid that he’ll change again and lose this

like, there’s SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE GUYS SO MUCH ABOUT THEIR EARLY HISTORY AND WHERE THEY STAND NOW

Fjord: I... I... I want Jester to be happy. 

Fjord: I do feel v-v-very strongly for her. 

FJORD LOOK SO FRUSTRATED WITH HIMSELF AS HE —WHO IS KNOWN FOR HIS SILVER TONGUE— STRUGGLES TO PUT INTO WORDS HIS FEELINGS AND KEEPS FREAKING STUTTERING SO MUCH IM SO

Fjord: But I also know, when this began, her affections might have been based entirely on whimsy... I don’t know!

I AM LIVING FOR THIS ANGST

FIRST OF ALL: SECOND CONFIRMATION THAT FJORD NOTICED ALL THE FLIRTING

SECOND OF ALL: HIS INSECURITIES COMING FORTH AND TELLING HIM MAYBE SHE NEVER LIKED HIM ANYWAY

THIRD AND FOREMOST: I FREAKING LOVE THIS TROPE OF PINING SWITCHAROO AND THE WAY THIS REFLECT JESTER’S DOUBTS DURING THE PIRATE ARC ABOUT MAYBE FJORD NOT BEING WHO SHE FIRST MET AND THE WAY THEY KEEP SECOND GUESSING THEIR OWN JUDGMENT OF EACH OTHER EVEN WHEN THEY KNOW EACH OTHER THE BEST

AND LISTEN LISTEN IM JUST

this is the perfect parallel to her talk with caleb in darktow ok

and im fucking living for this angst and this doubts and to see fjord yearn for her the way she did for so long 

WHAT A DELICIOUS DYNAMIC 

Fjord: And I don’t really feel like asking, either. I almost don’t wanna... know.

THAT HESITATION DESTROYS ME SO MUCH

FJORD IS SO SCARED TO RUIN THINGS, TO LOSE HER, TO HAVE CONFIRMATION THAT HIS FEELINGS AREN’T RECIPROCATED

but here’s the thing. He’s ok with that. He doesn’t expect her to love him back, doesn’t need her to feel the same way. Fjord is just happy loving her and being her friend and being here to support her and make her happy. That’s enough. 

How selfless is that? How absolutely romantic and painful and heartfelt? 

I love this so much. This love isn’t possessive nor demanding. All he wants, all he really asks for, is the chance to make sure she’s happy and safe. 

He requires nothing in return. Being around her light and showering in her warmth are enough. She’s already given him so much support, he can’t ask more... certainly not love in the way he would want, in the way he would hope, because life has never told him he’s worthy of such thing —not a monster like him— so why would she? 

Fjord: I just like it and, to me, as long as she’s alright...

hOW MANY TIMES BY NOW HAS FJORD SAID IN DIFFERENT CONVERSATIONS “as long as she’s alright” “as long as she’s happy” “as long as she’s not getting hurt” “as long as she trusts him” HE KEEPS REPEATING IT LIKE IT’S THE ONE THING THAT TRULY MATTERS TO HIM IN THE WORLD IM-

Fjord: It seems like this is not a permanent... thing. It’s not like we’re gonna leave her in this island and we’re gonna just go off which I was worried about before, but it sounds like it’s all... for show and it might be the Nein again after all this.

HEAR ME OUT

FJORD WAS WORRIED ABOUT JESTER LEAVING

ABOUT JESTER STAYING HERE

ABOUT JESTER TAKING OFF WITH THE TRAVELER AND NOT LOOKING BACK

and we know that was a possibility right?

BUT I THINK BACK TO THE VERY FIRST TIME SHE MENTIONED THIS (iirc it was after the giants fight way back during their second xhorhasian mission) HE SEEMED CONCERNED ABOUT JESTER GOING FOR GOOD. THERE WAS A HESITATION THERE

But really I wanna know how long... how long has Fjord been worried about her leaving, about loosing her... how much of what’s been going on has been him —without saying it— concerned that she’s about to leave the group, how many of their interactions and conversations (”i’m glad you’re here”, “we are happy to have you”, all the talks about disappearing and leaving the sad parts of the world behind) had him secretly concerned that she would soon leave??

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LATER HALF OF THE EPISODE

Fjord: and then, I don’t know what. I wanna explore the world! I want to see the lands we haven’t seen! I want to find the things that people are scared of and solve them or do what everyone else needs to do...

Fjord: but....... I- I hope- I hope she’s a part of that

I’M SCREAMING PLS BOY HE’S SO IN LOVE AND ALL BUT CONFESSING IT HELP ME PLS

the way he deflates and gets very quiet and earnest as he admits this????

im sobbing

[im not gonna get on Beauyasha territory because as much as that made me want to scream too this is soooo long already that i feel like that deserves a meta on its own]

i do wanna point out that fjord definitely seemed kinda jealous when Beau started describing her former crush on Jester

Like, he’s so excited to talk about her and Yasha but when Beau brings past feelings into this you can feel a note of panic and defensiveness as he says 

Beau: so I definitely had a crush on Jester, just since we’re drunk and we can be...

Fjord: when you said it before, it was like a thing... you had a real crush on Jester?

Beau: well, she’s so enigmatic, like you said and she just like... she’s got this way... just when she talks...

Fjord: 

Fjord: I’m talking about Yasha! You can go back to Yasha! It’s- uhm-

HE’S SO ANNOYED IM LAUGHING SO HARD

also fun thing

it’s similar to when he’s reacted to the traveler before and jester calling artagan handsome lmfao

im just saying 

and I like that he’s being supportive and he listens and all, even when Beau brings Jester back up... but then he confirms that Beau’s feelings for Yasha are deeper than for Jester and he definitely seems happy with that answer, both for Beau’s happiness (you know Fjord is so excited about these two since forever but especially the way he asks when he turns the tables on Beau he’s so excited for her!) but also because maybe it means one less chance that his own feelings won’t be reciprocated? like an... “alright, so we are good? with this? this is not going to hurt your feelings if i.. if i do love her?” and i think that’s very sweet? like regardless he’s gauging the depth of Beau’s feelings in this regard and I think if she confessed something deeper he would, heartbrokenly, step back and let her have a chance... especially since he’s happy just loving Jester from afar

ANYWAY

I WILL KEEP YELLING ABOUT THIS CONVO IN MY CORNER

AND OTHER MOMENTS THAT I WILL PROBABLY BREAK DOWN LATER

BUT THAT’S ALL FOR NOW

OKAY THAT’S A LOT OF YELLING

bye

[loosescrewslefty]

Miraculous Ladybug- Fixing the Powers

I’ve been very much bothered by the way that the writing team for Miraculous Ladybug has been handling powers for a long time now. It might not be as frustrating or offensive as how they sometimes treat the characters and their relationships, but it BOTHERS me. Because it doesn’t make sense that Adults are more powerful than kids just by the grace of being an adult if the magic comes from a kwami and the jewelry and as such the age of the wearer shouldn’t matter as much. And objectively speaking, there as several ‘minor’ miraculouses that seem WAY more powerful than the two that are supposed to be the most coveted, the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculouses. Also both the addition of the potions AND the distinctions given to some of the miraculouses/kwamis (Such as Pollen being the ‘Kwami of Subjugation’) are just... ODD. So a while back I sat down and charted out a way to ‘fix’ the powers in Miraculous Ladybug, much like I’ve seen others fix plots and characters.

More Clearly based on Yin/Yang, Wu Xing, and the Zodiacs

I can’t tell you how much it annoys me that Astruc clearly chose these Chinese motifs for the aesthetic, and didn’t bother researching or properly applying any of the theology attached to them to his show. Ladybug and Chat Noir SHOULD be equal, and balance one another out, but they’re not. Instead, Ladybug gets way more power and importance than Chat Noir does. And the Wu Xing Cycle is an important one too, because that’s nature holding itself in check. 

The Wu Xing has four different cycles attached to it; the Creation Cycle, the Destruction Cycle, the Insult Cycle, and the Controlling Cycle. It could have been interesting to lean into this, so that pairing two miraculous heroes together can lead to new powers being unlocked, depending on the two in question, and that if a  Hawkmoth happens, there are two heroes other than Ladybug and Chat who’d be able to step up and confront him.

New Stations/Distinctions for the Kwamis

It bothers me that the distinctions chosen for the Kwami feel extremely random, and don’t fit together at all. Nooroo is “Generosity”, Trixx is “Deception”, Pollen is “Subjugation”, Wayzz is “Protection”, and Duusuu is “Emotion.” Like, on their own these are fine. But none of them really relate to one another in a way that makes sense, which the Wu Xing SHOULD. As much as it annoys me, I can sorta understand why it would be a bad idea to attach the specific elements themselves to each Miraculous, because then people will expect the powers of that miraculous to relate to that element, which is very limiting. The Wu Xing is about much more than just nature and the elements. It’s also used to reference the passing of time, physical parts of the body, emotions, cardinal directions and so much more. 

But I still feel that the Distinctions for each Kwami and their powers should be presented in a what where it makes sense to see them relating to one another. One way I’ve suggested for people to do this is to include Ladybug and Chat in the consideration and base each of the Kwamis off of one of the Seven Chakras. But another way I like much better is to consider the kwamis in relation to what area their abilities will affect. For Example; Fox- Mind (Wood) Bee- Energy (Fire) Turtle- Body (Earth) Peacock- Soul (Metal) Butterfly- Heart (Water)

These are things you can tell at a glance relate to one another, without limiting the kwamis too much to being one trick ponies. And speaking of limits...

Limits are based on internal balance, not age

In an effort to make the sage figure that is supposed to be Fu NOT look like he has sand for brains and decided it’d be a good idea to give his chosen heroes a massive handicap against the villain right out of the gate, we’re going to change up the limiter for the Miraculouses. Rather than being based on age, the thing that determines how well you use a miraculous is your affiliation with the element/distinction that the Miraculous represents. Let’s use Kim as an example here. He’s very energetic and driven, so he’d have a great time with either the Bee or the Turtle, but give him the Peacock, the Butterfly, or the Fox, and things will get a hell of a lot harder for him. On the exact flip side, Juleka would be great with the Peacock, Butterfly, or Fox, but would struggle with the Bee or the Turtle.

Having the powers draw off of being able to synchronize with that power/ability due to personality makes sense, and is more true to the concepts that Miraculous Ladybug is trying to present than claiming that it’s because of age. And the beauty of this is that people can grow and change at any point in their life, which means that they can learn and change and miraculouses that they once struggled with can become easier for them to use while ones they once used easily can slip from their grasp if they begin to neglect that aspect of themselves.

More Clear and Understandable Power Pyramid

This is one of the things that bothers me MOST about how they’ve been handling the powers. We’re supposed to see Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses as the be all/end all, but many of the zodiac miraculouses seem much more powerful than them, and even the Peacock and Butterfly can create opponents that are more than a match for the Lucky Duo. Not to mention the fact that, as I said before, the Lucky Duo itself is imbalanced due to Ladybug getting all the power in their relationship. So the best way to fix that?

Power Pyramid.

By this, I mean that instead of all miraculouses just getting one power and calling it a day, it makes more sense to present the powers as an almost ‘trickle’ effect. To start off, Zodiacs get defined by a single element and whichever side of Yin/Yang they fall on, and get their power based on that. For example, the Dragon. That is a Yang/Earth (Body) Personality, who uses the elements in an aggressive way. Meanwhile, Snake is a Yin/Fire (Energy), so they require someone who comes across as passive, but is actually patient and knows to wait for the precise moment to strike.

Next level up from the Zodiac Miraculouses, we have the Wu Xing/Elemental Miraculouses. Rather than just one power, each Wu Xing Miraculous should get two, one based on it’s “Yin” Abilities, and one for it’s “Yang.” the way I broke it down when I was working this out for examples went like so;

Trixx

Fox Powers/Mind

Yang- Mirage 

Creates an illusion of the user’s choosing.

Yin- Outfox

Gives the user the ability to convince the victim that anything they’re saying is true.

Pollen

Bee Powers/Energy

Yang- Nectar

Ability to heal injuries and cure illnesses (not as strong as Miraculous Cure)

Yin- Sting

Causes temporary paralysis

Wayzz

Turtle Powers/Body

Yang- Shell-ture

Creates an impenetrable shield

Yin- Withdraw

Teleportation ability that allows the user to put people and object of their desire in a pocket dimension of their own making for protection.

Duusu

Peacock Powers/Soul

Yang- Good Spirits

Creates a golem/familiar of sorts that is bonded to a certain person or object and protects them at all costs.

Yin- Soul Search

Allows the user to leave their body and enter another persons to take control of their actions and peer into their memories.

Nooroo

Butterfly Powers/Heart

Yang- Metamorphosis

Creates heroes to fight alongside the user

Yin- Butterfly Effect

Allows a brief glimpse into the future

And then after the Elements, at the top of the Pyramid we have Ladybug and Chat Noir, who get a whopping FIVE power each, but can only access those powers when they are in tune with that aspect of themselves, much like using the lesser miraculouses. For Example, Marinette’s Ladybug Can easily do the Mind, Energy, and Heart powers, but has a much, MUCH harder time with the Soul one, because she tends to read people at face value rather than trying to see beneath the surface. Adrien’s Chat Noir is excellent with the Body and Energy powers, but struggles much more with Mind (linked to one’s creativity) and Heart (Based on people’s abilities to connect with others, something Adrien struggles with after being home schooled his entire life) My idea for the Ladybug and Chat Noir powers look like this;

Tikki

Ladybug Powers:

Positive Heart- (Healing) 

Miraculous Ladybug/Miraculous Cure

Heals all wounds, restores everything to its proper state

Positive Mind- (Inspiration) 

Lucky Charm

Grants Ladybug an object to help her win

Positive Energy- (Creating) 

Wish Come True

Allows Ladybug to will into existence something of her own choosing

Positive Body- (Protecting) 

Elytron

Allows Ladybug to recreate both her own suit and the suits of her allies to help them fight (space suits, ice skating form, underwater suits, ect)

Positive Soul- (Life) 

Red Thread

Ladybug has a limited ability to communicate with plants and animals, extending some of her power to them. Also works on humans, if the person trusts Ladybug enough to basically let her see into their very soul.

Plagg

Chat Noir Powers:

Negative Heart- (Toxicity) 

Cat Scratch

Curses the victim with a lingering sickness that can only be healed by Ladybug.

Negative Mind- (Madness) 

Cheshire Cat

Causes temporary insanity, which varies from victim to victim.

Negative Energy- (Destruction) 

Cataclysm

Destroys anything the user touches.

Negative Body- (Weakness) 

Catatonic 

Puts the victim to sleep.

Negative Soul- (Death) 

Catacomb

Allows the user to see, touch and summon spirits/ghosts

And that’s the basic breakdown of how I feel the powers of the ML universe SHOULD be handled instead. Feel free to comment with thoughts and inputs of your own and ask questions if any of this doesn’t make sense! ^^

[fvrxdrm]

City of the Living Dead

Chapter 5

Leon had pulled a lever right beside a metal door that was contained inside a box with packaging tapes sealing it and the said door slowly slid up to let us in. The room looked bright and comfortable. If you disregard the dust that caked the couches and tables and the dirt that was scattered all over the floor, it would've been a good resting area. Everything was organized and nothing was out of place.

"Y/N?" You heard the young man call your name. As soon as you turned around after picking up a potted green herb that was resting on top of a box, you were immediately caged in a tight embrace, the smell of Leon's newly-made uniform meeting your nostrils. "I thought we lost you, Y/N. We thought you were killed. Claire and I went to your house one day and saw your parents lying on the floor. I-we..." Tears began to drench your shoulder as Leon started sobbing at the mere thought of you being physically out of his life.

He nearly lost his shit when he saw the state of your home and he would've if he saw your body just laying somewhere in or out of the house and the poor guy hasn't told you everything he wanted to get out of his chest.

His sudden breakdown didn't go unnoticed by you. When you felt something hot soak your jacket and neck, you pulled away from the hug and cradled his cheeks before letting your eyes linger on his face. It was covered in tears and they seemed to continue to fall the more you stared at him.

"Hey, I'm here now. You didn't lose me." You pressed a gentle kiss on his nose and the gesture caused more tears to stream down Leon's face.

"I was so scared, Y/N," Leon whimpered. He held one of your hands in his and pressed his forehead against yours.

"Shh...I know, I know. I'm sorry." You both stayed like that for a moment, holding onto each other as you relished each other's presence after one year of absence. You knew that wasn't enough but you took what you could get and decided it would be best to catch up after you got out of the city. "Come on, let's go. We have some escaping to do." You placed one last kiss on his nose again before heading towards the door where the nightmare truly began.

Behind the door was a hallway.

A hallway.

A hallway where blood and grime embellished every wall and floor. Infinite darkness flooded the room and the smell was over-the-top unbearable.

You can do this, Y/N, you can do this. After you get out of the city you'll be living happily ever after again. It's just tonight.

At the end of the hall was an officer. He was slumped against the corner of a wall and if none of you knew what was happening that night, one could only guess it was not somebody who pulled a prank or died because of something less absurd than monsters and creatures.

"This is 73-Bird---------for rescue. Touchdown at R.P.D.----------minutes. I repeat----------" You managed to make out through the static from the radio of the officer.

You and Leon looked at each other, gulping down the lumps in your throats, before making your way towards the seemingly dead man with your flashlights guiding your way through the tenebrosity. Your eyes were glued to the officer the whole time, fearing that he might be one of the undead just waiting for his first or next prey. He didn't move though and that eased the two of you a little bit.

"Wanna...check on him? You know, just to make sure," You muttered as you gestured towards the body.

"Are you kidding? That's fucking suicide!" He whisper-yelled back. Though you heard Leon, your curiosity got the better of you, and no matter how much he told you not to touch the fucking body you still did it and you suddenly regretted your decision. Curiosity killed the cat, am I right?

When you slowly rose the man's head by its forehead, you were immediately met with the most delicious sight. The tissues that connected his jaw to the rest of his head stretched like slightly-hardened slime. Smelly blood dripped down to the officer's thighs and floor and the sound of you stretching the flesh a bit more sounded like somebody playing with wet and raw meat. Yuck!

"Oh...oh, fuck!" You whispered.

"I told you, Y/N. You didn't have to do this," Leon said as he suppressed the urge to gag and vomit at the repulsive sight.

Suddenly, the sound of something dropping to the floor was heard from another end of a hallway and it immediately got you to take your eyes off the officer.  

"Huh?"

"What was that?" You pointed your lights to where you heard the noise and as soon as the light hit the end of the hallway, two things abruptly caught your attention: another body of an officer that was impaled on a pipe going through his mouth and a tin can that went tumbling around. Nobody, or perhaps, nothing was at the end of the corridor so what caused it to fall?

You and Leon exchanged glances again before proceeding to walk through the eerily quiet  corridor and as soon as the two of you nearly reached the end of the hallway, a fucking zombie slammed itself on the window, growling and clawing against the glass to get her bloody hands on you and devour you. It might've been the scariest jumpscare you had that night so far.

"Holy fuck!"

"Shit!" You and Leon cursed at the same time after nearly getting a heart attack.

"I hope you can't bust through the window!" You exclaimed as you yanked Leon's arm towards a corner where a wooden double door was just waiting patiently for you to open and get a safe place while storing some more stuff that could be proven useful to you behind it.

Just as you pushed the door open with your hand that was holding your flashlight, the window that the zombie had given its attention to suddenly shattered and the sound of it breaking caused more panic to erupt inside of you, fearing that some unwanted people had heard it, and you immediately rushed inside the room.

"They can bust through windows, Y/N."

"Then we'll need something to board every window up if we don't want any hindrance while we find these things," You replied as you grabbed the small journal Marvin handed to you earlier and studied the symbols that were drawn on two blank pages while Leon snatched a map that was laying on a table.

As you were finishing with studying the notebook you had in your hands and picking up a box of ammo you had found just resting and blending in with the mess in the other corner of the room, you promptly heard the rookie cop mumbling to himself and made your way towards him to see a piece of paper pinned in between his thumbs and index fingers -- a record of events to be exact.

September 25th

We're turning the station into a temporary shelter due to the massive sudden outbreak. All police personnel have been instructed to make the safety of the citizens their top priority as we try to accommodate as many of them as possible.

September 25th (addendum)

One of the refugees attacked us in the middle of the night, resulting in the death of 1 officer and injuring 3 others. The person in question was quickly restrained. We believe this was simply a case of someone snapping under intense stress.

September 26th

A mob attacked the station today, resulting in a number of casualties. A few survivors were able to make it safely behind the emergency shutters, but surrounded as we are, it'll be hard for any of us to escape this place. We're not sure we can fix any of our comm equipment, so we remain cut off from the outside world.

September 27th

There was another clash on the west side of the station around 1pm. Twelve people died, and there is only a handful of survivors left. Everything is falling into disarray in here.

David Ford

"Well, that explains why the police station isn't a safe place either," You broke the silence after taking in what you just read. Leon set the note back on the table before leaning forward with his arms supporting his weight and let out a big sigh. That concerned you.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You softly asked him as you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. You guessed the stress, anxiety, and fear were taking a toll on him and you wanted to ease him up a little bit at least with your touch. You get it, the nightmare you were in was already too overwhelming.

"I just...I wish I came here earlier, you know. I was about to start working here last week until I got a call to stay away. Now...I really wish I got here earlier. I could've-" You immediately cut Leon off, knowing he would say something along the lines of 'I could've saved them' and made him turn around to face you with the palm of your hand resting against his cheek.

"Hey, this isn't your fault. Even if you were here a week earlier, who knows how many are already infected. There's nothing any of us can do, Leon." Leon pulled away from you and your gaze in frustration for himself. He knew there was nothing he could do but somehow his emotions got the better of him.

"Y/N, I-maybe we could've saved the others from getting infected. I don't know. I just-" You took Leon's hands in yours, stopping him from pacing around so much before looking him in the eyes again.

"Leon, there is nothing we could do. I know you wish things were different -- I wish things were different. But they ain't. I would've graduated by now. You would've been buying donuts and patrolling across the city by now, just like how you always told me. But we aren't. Everything happens for a reason, Leon. If this whole ordeal is going to lead us up to something then we'll take it. Unless you're ready to give up and let your emotions get the better of you again. Everything I said might not be the answer you want but you gotta know that...we can't save everybody... Fuck, I don't even know what the hell I'm saying. I'm just rambling right now but...I hope you understand, Leon." The said boy let out a huge sigh again and looked down to the ground in hopes of getting himself together and not let his brain get himself killed tonight. He'll deal with his own demons later once you get out of the city but for now, escaping is all that matters.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm...just...I'm scared and I don't know what's gotten into me."

"It's okay, Chipmunk. We all have our moments," You whispered as you carressed his cheekbone with your thumb. You almost forgot where you were until a thud coming from the door suddenly broke you out of your trances and you immediately grabbed everything you needed before jumping out of a broken window.

---***---

Well, how was it? I just wrote shit in this and didn't proofread this. Lolz

Edit: did yall see the easter egg?👀👀👀

[backtothestart02]

The Forgotten - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Based off the horror, psychological thriller movie of the same name that came out in 2004 that I recently watched. This fic is really for me, b/c I loved the movie so much and there’s no fanfiction category for it anywhere, so I thought I’d turn it into a WA fic with a sequel eventually. The movie itself is more parent-child driven than romance, but it was created w/ a subtle romance that I intend to expand more upon. Read it if you like. I will be incorporating much of the dialogue from the movie, since I’m adapting it pretty closely. Enjoy.

...

Synopsis: AU - 14 months after losing her son to a plane crash, Iris Thawne is startled to find everyone she knows has forgotten him. Everyone but herself.

...

Chapter 1 - A Grieving Mother

It was eerie at the playground at this time of day.

The wind whipped around her as she sat on the swing, hardly aware of the creaking sound, even with no children playing around her to block it out.

She was cold, freezing even, but she didn’t close her sweater up to warm herself better. She hadn’t brought a jacket or a coat, just a couple layered shirts and a sweater with her faded blue jeans and sneakers. A common outfit when she went out these days, common at home too.

Only one thing blocked out the need to keep warm, to hear what was around her, to be aware of reality in that moment. And that was Teddy, her Teddy Bear.

A warm, enthusiastic, vibrant boy of nine with the most luscious curls atop his head and freckles dotting his cheeks. He wore glasses, round ones, ever since he was six and couldn’t see the words quite right on the classroom chalkboard. He’d come home that day, scared to death that he couldn’t see anymore. One trip to the eye doctor had fixed that, and he’d been so excited to get his glasses. She couldn’t remember a child being that excited over having to wear glasses.

Barry’s girl, Becca, certainly hadn’t been. She’d had a meltdown in the front of the school when her dad picked her up. It was temporary though, as most things are with children. Once the more ‘chic’ kind, as she called it, came in stock in pink, she loved her glasses more than anything. Well, not more than playing with Teddy on the playground. Those two were inseparable, had been since kindergarten.

Iris wondered how Barry was doing…14 months after the accident.

She licked her lips and found them chapped, then decided she’d spent enough time at the park today. Or at least for one morning. She had to get ready anyways. Her appointment with Dr. Singh was in an hour, and her walk home was 15 minutes, 20 with the way she moved. She needed time with Teddy, her morning time with him. She couldn’t cope without that time. A mother needed time with her son.

He was her life, her everything.

“Mom!”

She heard it clearly, so clearly. Not spoken out of a dream or the recesses of her mind, but really, truly with her. Real.

She spun around so quickly, she wasn’t prepared for the oncoming wind attacking her face with its chill. She shut her eyes for a moment – just a moment – and when she opened them again, there was no sound. There was no child.

“Teddy?” she called out, just in case. Just in case.

But it was obvious no one was there. She looked all around her, but nothing. Even the streets were bare of cars, the park was bare of squirrels, of birds. It was a cloudy, chilly day, as dark as her thoughts, as her heart sank every moment.

Taking one step in front of the other, she looked both ways at the street corner and then crossed on her way home. She felt stuck in a daze as she always did, cars passing, people chatting, lights turning colors at the intersection. She couldn’t snap out of where her head was at, of how intensely her heart was hurting. She could die of frostbite out here in the cold, and she wouldn’t notice it was happening. Her mind would be so absorbed, so focused, so distant on what wasn’t in her control. Teddy.

The warmth of her home spread through to the tips of her fingers and toes once she stepped inside and closed the door. She didn’t think she’d bother changing. She’d taken a shower early that morning, a hot one, a long one. That was enough. But what she needed before she left, what she needed more than anything, was to visit her boy in his bedroom.

Taking the steps two at a time, she raced upstairs. First, she stopped in the bedroom she shared with Eddie, her husband. She didn’t want to think about how things were between them. They could be better. They could always be better, and that was an understatement. When they weren’t ‘having a discussion’, he walked around her as if he were on eggshells, not wanting to alarm her or cause her to have a breakdown. He wanted to be there for her, to help her with her healing process. But he had gotten frustrated that she was taking so long with it. He didn’t say it outright, but she knew that’s what he thought. She knew him.

Still, when she stopped in their bedroom, she spotted instantly the picture of the three of them sitting on the bedside table. The Thawne family – Iris, Eddie, and Teddy. Theodore Thawne.

Eddie had loved that name, and she had warmed to it once she came upon the most adorable nickname for him – Teddy Bear. She smiled just thinking about it and brushed her finger over the glass, over Teddy’s curls.

Her smile fell slowly, as her heart resurged with pain, and she walked out of the room to head to Teddy’s bedroom.

There wasn’t much in the room anymore, but the dresser straight ahead between the windows was a siren song for her, a lit beacon of everything that made her able to cope, to deal with the worst loss any mother can imagine.

Atop the dresser were two pictures of Teddy, a recent one and one when he was a toddler, his face smiling up at her, the photographer of the pictures. She always took pictures of him. He was so photogenic. His curly hair and dimples always made her smile. And his eyes lit up when he saw her.

They had, anyway.

She opened the first drawer of the dresser and found his baseball mitt, his cap… The next drawer held photo albums of him over the years. Seeing those pictures always made her relax, made her remember, kept her grounded, prevented her from falling apart. Then finally the bottom drawer was filled with video tapes and dvds, all encapsulating Teddy’s life. She’d take them out and watch them if she had more time.

If she had more time…

“How much time did you spend at the dresser compared to last week?”

She could already hear Dr. Singh saying it, asking it, as if he knew she hadn’t made much progress at all. Still, she’d probably say, “Less.”

And he’d press her, “How much less?”

She sighed, her fingers drumming against one of the tapes as she fought the urge to form a fist. She knew it was for the best, that her sessions would help her in the long run. She certainly didn’t want to be this sad forever. She just…wanted her son back.

Maybe there was time to watch one tape.

...

*will post on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.

[lilyandersonn]

All Too Well // D.W

Chapter One // Series Masterlist here

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Bailey Walker (OFC)

Series summary: (Supernatural AU) Bailey Walker has spent the last year picking up the pieces of her failed relationship. Just when she thinks she is almost whole again, the rug is pulled from underneath her yet again. Her life is a mess, she's a mess, and yet throughout it all, she finds herself growing close to somebody she's spent eight years pushing away. Bailey can feel Dean worming his way back into her life and consequently her heart, but she's been burned before, can she find it in herself to trust him again?

Chapter warnings: maybe a little angst?

Words: 2949

AN: This is an AU. Pretty much everybody is alive and just living their best apple pie lives. Hunting isn’t a thing, they’re all just normal people. I don’t have a beta reader, so I do apologise for any mistakes that I didn’t pick up on when editing :)

Chapter One

“Jess, can you please stop that?”

The infuriating sound of paper flapping, which had Bailey’s clenching her hands so tightly that her fingernails were leaving crescent shaped indentations on her palm, immediately ceased. The pain was only a minor inconvenience in comparison to the unbearable, choking humidity that had turned her tiny apartment into a temporary sauna.

“I can’t help it,” Jess said with a whine, unable to resist the temptation of fanning herself and picking the newspaper back up, “maybe if you fixed your AC, I wouldn’t have to.”

Bailey, in a fit of pure frustration, pulled her sweat soaked shirt over her head in a futile attempt at cooling herself down. The heat plaguing her apartment had Bailey willing to do just about anything to escape it, and that didn’t exclude stripping off in-front of her best friend.

“I already told you, my AC doesn’t need fixing.” Bailey quipped, the sticky heat making her more irritable than usual as she dragged herself into the kitchen in search of something, anything, that would cool her down.

Unfazed at her best friend’s state of undress, Jess rolled her eyes at Bailey’s ongoing determination that her AC was in fact not broken; even though it had all the effect of an old asthmatic man standing in the corner breathing on them. It was beyond her that somebody who hated the heat so vehemently, would be so opposed to the idea of fixing the one thing that would cool her apartment down.

“You could just ask Dean—”

Bailey, who had found a bottle of water shoved at the very back of the fridge and had been just about to down it, whipped around so fast that she was worried she may get whiplash.

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Jess said exasperatedly, hands on her hips, “he isn’t that bad. And he’ll probably do it for free.”

“Yes, Jess, he is that bad. I’d rather pay somebody than have that man in my apartment.”

Jess grinned, “Ah, so you admit you need somebody to fix it.”

Scowling in her best friend’s direction, Bailey opened the bottle and chugged half of the icy cold liquid in one go, instead of coming up with a sarcastic retort like she wanted to.

“So, I need to tell you something,” Jess said slowly, hesitating as she watched in amusement whilst Bailey chugged the water and simultaneously shimmied her sweaty denim shorts down her legs, “Bails, if you were gonna strip for me, you could have at least worn matching underwear.”

If it were anybody else, that comment would have her cheeks burning read and stuttering. But Jess had seen Bailey in much worse states, and vice versa, to the point where they would have to do something really scandalous for either of them to bat an eyelid.

“You would be lucky to have me strip for you, Hello Kitty briefs and all."

Choosing to put an end to the exchange, Jess cleared her throat and continued with what she had been waiting – no, dreading – to say, “So, there’s no easy way to say this and I’m just going to come right out and say it. Sam invited Chris to the wedding, and well, he’s RSVP’d.”

The revelation came with a grimace, as though she’d just ignited an explosive and was waiting for the big show.

“And?” Bailey asked, as though waiting for another part to the story.

Jess raised an eyebrow, perplexed by her seemingly blasé attitude towards the news. "And you're okay with that?"

Bailey faltered at that; she knew in her mind she wasn’t okay. She hadn’t been okay in a very long time, but it had always been so easy to pretend otherwise when everybody around her were so terrified of even mentioning her ex-boyfriend’s name.

Almost a year had passed since their three-year relationship had come to an end, but Bailey was still stuck in the same cycle of going to work, faking wholesome smiles and conversation with customers, pretending that she didn’t feel like her whole life was crumbling around her, and then coming home to an empty apartment to mourn a life she almost had.

One day Bailey would look back and feel nothing but embarrassed at the thought of all the time she’d spent grieving a relationship that was long since over. But that day didn’t seem to be on the near horizon.

Forcing her lips to curve up into something that resembled more of a grimace than a smile, Bailey finally spoke, “Yeah, I’m okay with it. It’s just one day, and besides, it’s your guys’ day, not mine. You deserve to have whoever you want there.”

In the back of her mind, Bailey knew she couldn’t have expected Sam not to invite Chris. They’d been best friends at one point, maybe not so much anymore but they were still friends, and so it was no shock that he would be invited.

Despite noticing the way Bailey’s hazel eyes looked slightly glassy and the hesitation before she responded, Jess chose not to push the subject. She’d witnessed first-hand what she had gone through when Chris left, and for her best friend’s sake, she didn’t want to cause the kind of breakdowns that she’d spent six months coaxing Bailey out of.

Jess had spent far too many hours watching Bailey sob, barely able to breathe through the tears because of what Chris had done to her, and she refused to be the person who brought those memories back up.

“Hey, how about you put on some new clothes and we go get a beer at the Roadhouse?”

And with that, normalcy was injected back into the room.

***

“There’s my girls.”

Bailey and Jess were both grinning from ear to ear as they approached the bar, squeezing their way through the people crowded around the pool table, where Ellen was already preparing their drinks. A bottle of beer and a tequila shot each were waiting for them when they finally made it to their favourite bartender.

Without hesitation, Bailey down the gold liquid, barely flinching as it burned its way down her throat. The concerned look Jess shot her didn’t go unnoticed as they both took their seats, but she chose to ignore it in favour of greeting Ellen.

“Bad day?” Ellen asked, watching with a glint in her eye as Bailey chugged half of her beer in one go.

Heaving out a heavy sigh as she placed the bottle back down onto the bar, “You could say that,” she said, letting her eyes glance around the room, grinning as she spotted Jo at the pool table, clearly beating her flustered looking opponent.

Although there was a three-year age gap between them, Bailey and Jo had always been close friends, all but growing up together. Circumstance had brought them together, their parents were all good friends and Bailey had been coming to the Roadhouse for as long as she could remember, but their friendship had stood the test of time.

And then came along Jess, who just slid so easily in with them, that it felt like they’d all always been friends.

Catching her eye, Bailey sent a wink to Jo, who shot one straight back at her, before focusing back up on her game.

“Is Sam swinging by, too?” Ellen casually asked Jess, as she absentmindedly wiped at the bar with a rag.

“Probably,” Jess said, taking a sip of her beer, “if Dean has anything to say about it.”

Bailey couldn’t help the involuntary eye roll that came from the mention of Dean. It was an understatement to say that she wasn’t his biggest fan, but the words that she had to describe her feelings towards him were very unsavoury.

Along with Jo, Bailey had grown up with Sam. Dean being four years older than them, she never really saw him as anything other than an annoying older brother, who enjoyed teasing the hell out of all three of them whenever he got the chance.

But that had all changed during the summer after she and Sam had graduated high school. Something shifted between Bailey and Dean – Dean no longer seeing her as just his brother’s irritating best friend, and Bailey spurred on by raging teenage hormones. Neither of them had seen the mutual attraction coming, but there was nothing stopping it.

They fell into what could be best described as a summer fling, because by the time September came and Bailey was off to college, it all came crumbling down. By then, she had developed some real feelings for him – beyond just wanting to jump his bones every time he walked through the door – but in classic Dean fashion, ever afraid of making genuine connections with women, he blew her off with a text message. And that was that.

Eight years later, Bailey still held a grudge on the older Winchester.

“Speak of the devils.”

Draining the last of her bottle, Bailey couldn’t help the eyebrows that pinched into a frown as she turned to see the two brothers walking through the front door, laughing loudly at something. Sam was still dressed in his office suit, but Dean had changed out of his usual work navy overalls, into a pair of blue jeans and a red flannel shirt.

He looked good.

Bailey immediately mentally cursed herself as soon as the thought entered her head. It frustrated her to no end that even though all she felt for the older brother was revulsion, she couldn’t deny the glaringly obvious fact – Dean Winchester was a sight to behold.

Whilst Jess got up to greet her fiancé, Bailey turned back to the bar and ordered another beer and a few more shots of tequila. She would need them if she were going to get through an evening with him.

As Ellen placed the shots of tequila onto the bar, a hand reached over from behind Bailey and took one. She didn’t need to look to know who it was – there was only one person on the planet who would have the nerve.

“For me? You shouldn’t have, sweetheart.”

“You’re an ass.” Bailey said, though lacking in her usual conviction, too fed up to entertain the little feud they had going. She took another shot without looking at him, hoping he would take the hint to leave her alone

Much to her chagrin, Dean sat down next to her, signature smirk as he looked over at her, before turning his attention to Ellen.

“Two beers and a whiskey, please.”

“Coming up, doll.”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but whatever inevitably provoking words he was going to say died on his tongue as Sam and Jess finally joined them; Sam hugging Bailey from behind, swiftly pressing a kiss to her temple, a quiet sorry whispered into her auburn hair before pulling away.

Bailey sent him a look that said he had nothing to be sorry for, but she knew that no matter what she said or did, Sam was going to feel guilty for inviting Chris. It did make her think why invite him if he felt so bad about it, but she had no urge to question it.

The three of them began chattering around Bailey, but she wasn’t listening. She could barely focus on the sound of the Led Zeppelin song blaring through the stereo, let alone whatever her friends and Dean were talking about.

Although she’d put on a brave face, the mention of Chris earlier had really floored her. It had been a year since he walked out of her life, eyes set on bigger and better things – things Bailey apparently couldn’t offer him – and yet one mention of his name and she felt like she was back to square one.

It occurred to her on many occasions that Chris was as good as it got for her. Although not her first love, the infuriating lady-killer knocking whiskey back beside her frustratingly held that title, she really thought that he was going to be it. She saw a life with him, a good life, that she couldn’t picture ever having with anybody else.

So, was that it? Was she destined to a life of loneliness and forever picking up the pieces of a life she never got to have? Those kinds of questions often kept Bailey awake at night – more often than she’d care to admit.

Her uncharacteristically quietness didn’t go undetected by any of them – even Dean was eyeing her with an expression that could be described as mild concern. Normally she’d be at the centre of the conversation, cracking jokes, ribbing on Sam for wearing his monkey suit at the bar.

“Hey, Bails, up for a game of pool?” Sam asked, pulling her out of whatever daydream she had been caught up in.

Almost as though she was suddenly remembering where she was, Bailey blinked a few times before turning to him with a mischievous smile, “Only if you’re looking to get your ass kicked.”

The smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and there wasn’t the usual skip in her step as she and Sam walked over to the vacant pool table – Jo now helping her mother behind the bar as the usual Friday evening crowd began filling up the building.

“Bails,” Sam started once they reached the table, away from prying ears, “you know I didn’t want to upset you, right?”

Picking up her pool cue and starting to chalk the end of it, she nodded, trying to look as unfazed as possible. When Sam had asked her for a game, she knew he just wanted to get her away from the other two so that he could say his piece.

“I’m not upset, Sam,” she said with a sigh, “you have every right to invite whoever you want to your wedding, okay? Please, can we just leave it there for now?”

“Right, yeah, sorry.”

“So, you ready to get your ass kicked?” Bailey taunted with a grin, the tension immediately dissipating into nothing.

“Bring it.”

Ten short minutes later, Bailey had her cue above her head, yelling out in triumph at her win. Sam, though shaking his head at her less than subtle display of victory, grinned along with her. He was simply happy that she was acting more like herself, but for how long he didn’t know.

“Another?” she asked, setting the balls back into the rack in the middle of the table.

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Sure, you set up, I’ll go get us another drink.”

By now, Bailey was feeling buzzed, the two beers and however many shots of tequila had started to kick in. She could handle her alcohol reasonably well and it would take a lot more for her to be truly drunk, but she was getting that warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach and she swayed slightly as she walked around the table.

Maybe it wasn’t the best way to cope, but the numbing effects of alcohol seemed to be working well to take her mind away from Chris.

A somewhat pleasant mood had begun to settle over Bailey, and only improved throughout the night. Being around her friends – Jess, Sam, Jo, even Charlie had made an appearance – was all the therapy she needed.

She had beaten Sam at another few games of pool before they decided to call it quits, settling instead in their usual booth at the far corner of the bar, away from the noisy patrons. The rest of their friends had slowly joined them, bringing over more drinks that only served to get Bailey increasingly buzzed.

Bailey and Charlie were clinking their shot glasses together, before knocking them back, when Dean approached the table. Before that, he’d been chatting up a pretty little blonde at the bar – as per usual, searching for somebody to take home. It wasn’t a night at the Roadhouse if Dean didn’t leave with a girl hanging off his arm.

But there he was, squeezing himself into the booth, directly next to a disgruntled looking Bailey.

“Luck out?” she asked, eyebrows pinching together when he slings his arm across the seat behind her. He was too close for comfort, his jean covered thigh pressing up against her bare leg.

He shrugged, taking a long pull of his beer. “She has a boyfriend.”

“I’m surprised that stopped you.”

“I do have morals, sweetheart.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Not taken aback in the slightest by her comment, Dean grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement – unlike Bailey, he enjoyed their banter. “You say the sweetest things to me.”

Choosing to ignore the green-eyed man next to her, Bailey tuned back into the conversation. Charlie, Jo, and Jess were chatting about the bachelorette party planned for the following weekend, whilst Sam was completely zoned out, scrolling on his phone.

“Are we still starting at Bailey’s?” Charlie asked, looking over at the girl in question.

“Only if she gets her AC fixed.” Jess replied, grinning smugly over at her.

“I am not having this conversation again, Jessica.”

Dean, who had surprisingly been listening to the conversation, piped in. “I could take a look at it for you.”

Grinding her teeth and clenching her fists, Bailey knew she had been cornered. There was no reasonable excuse to say no to Dean, who was so generously offering his services in front of everybody. Looking over at Jess, who was still wearing the smug grin, she knew her best friend had planned this.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense,” Dean said, starting to catch onto Bailey’s hesitation, “I’ll swing by tomorrow afternoon and take a look.”

“Great.”

[sink-yarn]

Literally woke up and immediately started thinking about how much i hate my body, crying out of frustration rn

Why cant i literally just have a nice body why did my parents have to have horrible fucking genetics why am i so lazy, even when i starve myself or work out 5 times a week there are no results i have no idea what to do. And i know that even if i do figure out how to lose weight through diet and exercise, it'll be very temporary because i will not be able to keep up these extremely unrealistic routines.

I should find someone who will degrade me and call me ugly and fat until i get motivated to work out just to get praise from them. I just need someone to push me to my limits because im too fucking lazy to do it myself. Like one of those kpop idol trainers or whatever, they like make them starve and overwork them and shit, seems good to me (they shouldnt have to put up with that and its so horrible but its okay if someone is abusive towards me because im literally asking for it).

I just do not know what would motivate me to work out, hating my body to the point of crying and breakdowns whenever i pass a mirror and stare at it for too long is obviously not enough.

[ohdearhiddles]

SUMMARY: Classes are stressful; life is stressful. Let’s be honest, what isn’t stressful? Loki knows how you get, and well, he tries his best to help.

TITLE: The Study Diaries: At Your Disposal

WORD COUNT: 1263

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: Unedited; This is probably going to end up being a thing I do. When I get super stressed I like to daydream scenarios that will offer me temporary relief, so this is 100% not the only “Study Diaries” you will see on my page, oops. (not my gif) -- (AO3 LINK)

You sat, elbows propped up on the desk before you. Your head was bowed, being held up by your hands as your eyes focused in on the wooden material of the desk.

It was overwhelming; everything was overwhelming. The tears of frustration were already welling up as you contemplated just dropping out, just walking away from the education you had spent far too much money on to begin with.

Maybe an eternity passed, or maybe it was just a few seconds. Who knew, honestly? All you were capable of thinking of was the stack of notebooks and textbooks greedily calling for your attention as your thoughts ate you alive.

Deep breaths, you reminded yourself. Everything would work out eventually, you just needed to calm down in order to see that. However, thinking that everything was going to be fine and actually believing it were two completely different things, and right now, you weren’t believing it at all. In fact, you were so far from believing it that you almost couldn’t fathom the thought.

Sighing deeply, you shut your eyes. If you shut them for long enough, maybe you would fall asleep and you’d be able to block out every bit of responsibility and stress. In other words, maybe if you fell asleep, you’d be able to escape from this reality filled with far too much responsibility. Of course, you were aware of the fact that the idea was horrible and would only cause you to wake up stressed beyond belief.

It was the chilled hands of Loki that seemed to pull you out of the stress-induced trance that you were under. His fingers were kneading at your shoulders, pressing just hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. You felt his chin rest on the crown of your head as you sat upright.

“Your sounds of distress did not go unnoticed, my dear,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I wasn’t exactly trying to hide it,” you retorted. Loki laughed, stopping his momentary massage to move over. He soon stood by your side, hand resting on the desk while the other rested on his hip. His hair fell from behind his ear as he squinted at the papers messily arranged across the surface in front of you.

“Are these all for your studies?” You nodded meekly, feeling the energy drain from your body a second time. Loki watched your reaction carefully. You were certain he didn’t miss how your shoulders had slumped forward, accepting defeat before you had barely even begun.

It was then that you realized that the God of Mischief had probably been occupied doing something much more exciting than worrying over you and your stress. He didn’t need to witness this type of small breakdown. You muttered an apology as your hands reached out to grab a few of the stray papers.

“And what is it that you’re apologizing for?” He asked, reaching forward to pry your fingers from a particularly long article about some strange theory that you couldn’t even begin to understand. It didn’t take much for him to take the papers. There wasn’t much fight in you to even try to fend him off as he pulled it from your grasp.

“Weren’t you doing something?”

“Yes, but now I’m doing this,” he responded with a tone of certainty. You watched as he walked out of the room, returning seconds later with a second chair in his hands. He set it down beside you, sprawling himself against it as he sat. Loki’s eyes scanned the page, mouth moving elegantly as he followed along with his finger.

It was a sight to see. He was gorgeous while he read. In fact, you were almost certain that if he was from this planet, he would be considered the eighth wonder of the world. There was something so utterly beautiful about the way he read, and you began to wonder if anyone had ever taken the time to paint or sculpt a lovely depiction of such a sight. If someone did, you’d buy that masterpiece and hang it on the wall or set it in the center of your living room.

“Alright,” he said, snapping you out of it once again.

You hummed in a questioning tone, showing that you had absolutely no idea what he was saying ‘Alright’ to.

“I understand it,” he replied, scooting forward to place the paper in front of you. Your jaw dropped.

“What do you mean you understand it? I’ve been reading that thing for the past two hours and I have no idea what the author is saying.”

“It’s complex, but I understand it,” Loki said again. You narrowed your eyes, suddenly a bit annoyed that he had done something within minutes that you couldn’t in hours.

“That’s great and all,” you reached to grab the paper from the desk, narrowing your eyes as you began to skim over the words for what felt like the millionth time. “But that does absolutely nothing to help me.”

“I know.”

“Great,” you muttered, attempting to turn away from him. The god sitting beside you wasn’t fond of your reaction, though, as he pulled your arm from its space on the desk before scooting his chair even closer.

“Yes, it is great. Now, I can help you understand.” He narrowed his eyes back at you. The two of you sat, glaring, for who knows how long. Finally, you sighed and leaned back in your chair.

“Do you not want my help?” Loki asked, leaning forward to grab another article.

“I can do it myself,” you tried to sound convincing as you said it, but he did just catch you in the middle of a small mental breakdown. To say you had everything under control would have been the most obvious lie you had attempted to tell.

“Darling,” the god spoke, his voice dropping to a tone that you recognized as one reserved specifically for you. It was soft, gentle and something you desperately needed sometimes. When Loki chose to enter what you called “Lover Mode,” this was the tone he would use above all else, and it was for your ears only. “I am constantly at your disposal. Do you not think me capable of helping you in your daily struggles?”

You stared at him, not knowing entirely what to say, but you managed. “You already do so much for me. I’m practically useless if I can’t do at least my own damn homework.”

Loki laughed gently, reaching forward to grab your hand. He brushed his thumb against your knuckles before bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “You will be doing it. Simply think of me as nothing more than a vessel of translation for you to use.”

You glanced at the piling papers and then back at your lover. His words were sincere, and you couldn’t find a reason to turn him down. So, you nodded and allowed him to help as he saw fit.

Loki sat beside you for hours, offering quiet reassurances every time you seemed to get stumped by a new concept. He used his velvety voice to explain things in simple detail, but he never gave you an answer, knowing that you would only be upset by the fact that you weren’t doing the work yourself. Loki’s fingers constantly drew gentle shapes against your thigh, the soft touches soothing your worries.

And when the sun’s rays began to dance vibrantly against the walls of your room, signifying the end of the day, he stayed.

[mintchocohip]

sub!bts react ⟶ recovering from a toxic relationship

requested 〉“How would BTS react to being in a toxic relationship before they met their s/o and now they are loved right and feel free to express themselves with her? (As in they can openly be submissive and open with their emotions)”

𝙏𝘼𝙀𝙃𝙔𝙐𝙉𝙂

Deep down, Taehyung knows he’s giving himself over far, far too soon. He just wants to be somebody’s sub. During the first few dates he treats you like a childhood friend. After two months he treats you like a stranger. He wants to end it, but trying to end things never worked in the past. Week by week, internal tensions build until Taehyung becomes so distant he doesn’t know if the two of you are still together. A confirmation from you that, yes, you still want to spend time with him goes over numb. The breakdown is a relief. Secrets unfold slowly. “Tell me, Taehyung. Even if it hurts me, it’s a temporary sting. Let it out now, before it becomes a deep cut.” He struggles to say it, but Taehyung wants to break up. Years alone have healing power. Loneliness arrives when he has settled into himself, and when it does, all Taehyung can daydream about is you. The reunion is slow, and careful. He gets to know you in a way he couldn’t before. Opening up about his feelings is fresh air. Finding a balance between independence and your love isn’t always easy, but Taehyung knows you’ll never hate him for his honesty.

𝙔𝙊𝙊𝙉𝙂𝙄

Even though he knows better intellectually, the person Yoongi forced himself to forget about still shapes his gut instincts about dominance. His ex tried to pull a cruel, controlling dom out of Yoongi. Early days of the relationship are filled with questions about the type of person you are. Yoongi idly wonders if you'll break his hard boundaries and steal control without permission. Having his needs fulfilled without harsh surprises leads to worshipful amazement. Yoongi nods along and agrees with your whispers that he needs to take care of himself, too. The world is full of people who fit together, but this is so easy, and Yoongi sometimes expects everything to shatter. He knows how to push through self-sabotage and regret over time he spent waiting on the promise of change. He appreciates your help. Living in the moment becomes the passage of time that doesn’t fray Yoongi apart with stress. Clear communication and acknowledgement of misunderstandings shiver him with relief. He holds tight to his own “I love you”s to avoid letting them become rote routine, but the fact that you never hold those words away from him makes Yoongi feel lucky every day.

𝙅𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙆𝙊𝙊𝙆

Jungkook believes everything has purpose. His previous relationship taught him important lessons about life. He's ready to use those lessons, and grow. Talking to your friends is a spying mission, but Jungkook needs to know―“Does Y/N have a type?” You like sweet, cute men. Jungkook opens up that side of himself like a peacock fanning its tail. He wants somebody who accepts a side of himself he hid from love for too long. It’s fun, the first few months. When the relationship approaches a year, Jungkook is shaken out of his stupor. He’s acting the same way he did before. A desire for subservience molded him into the fantasy his ex craved―a strong, "manly” man; the kind of guy who got dumped for crying tears that weren’t a light mist. Now, he’s molding himself to your fantasies, too. You just want him to be real with you. “I like acting like this. Do you like this side of me?” Cuddles and a conversation keep you and Jungkook awake on the evening before your one year anniversary. Inside, Jungkook is ecstatic that you remembered he’s never had a one year anniversary. “I do. I do. But, sometimes, I think I can see… fear, or discomfort. You’re afraid that you showed the wrong part of yourself to me. Never feel like you can’t be a complete person around me.” Jungkook can’t stop the laugh. “I always feel complete around you.”

𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙆

You were his friend first. That’s the only way this could work. Hoseok knows you, and likes you, and trusts you. Nonetheless. When sex and romance manifest, Hoseok thinks he knows what you want. Happiness and refreshment that he found somebody who loves his soft sides and doesn’t stare at him like he’s an alien when he reveals dark, angry thoughts fills Hoseok with giddy energy that could fuel a thousand cartwheels. He wants to introduce you to everyone he meets, sit back, and just watch. His last relationship was secret. He never told anybody where he was going, or what he was doing. When it was over, he hid in his apartment to work through every emotion. Hoseok holds himself up with a solid core. The moment he enters your proximity, that core melts away. It’s what he wants. It’s a relief. Warming himself up at the glow of somebody else’s soul makes him fall in love every time he wraps himself up in your arms. Casual and light-hearted love sometimes makes him feel worlds apart from you, but Hoseok understands that he can take a deep breath without feeling disoriented. This relationship is part of his happiness, and it isn’t something that needs to be denied away.

𝙅𝙄𝙈𝙄𝙉

Jimin needs time to himself. He also needs attention. He isn’t very good at balancing those two needs. Sometimes, he feels selfish. Mostly, he just gets bitter at the people who need time alone and attention, too. The fact that you push through his ultimatums and actually talk to him about where these emotions are coming from frustrates Jimin. He just wants love, love, and more love―he wants fresh heaps of love to bury the tainted affection of a short, fast relationship that consisted entirely of breaking up and making up. Your patience flutters his heart. It makes him uncertain if he deserves somebody who stays through the rises and dips. Part of him suspects you don’t cut off his neediness because you get what you want in the bedroom. Discomfort that both of you have the wrong impressions of each other fades during long conversations about needs and wants. Those conversations open Jimin up to hours of running through anything and everything on his mind. Working on solutions is a strange and almost frightening change from stagnant cycles. Jimin loves this sense of peace, though, and he loves watching you blossom with him.

𝙉𝘼𝙈𝙅𝙊𝙊𝙉

He’s been expecting too much. Namjoon realizes that. Stories about how cherished subs feel filled him with buoyant expectation. When he meets you on a BDSM app, Namjoon trusts you with his emotions instantly. The two of you have shared deep, vulnerable moments, but he wants you to know his whole world, and need his presence, and cure him of every bad memory and lingering sadness attached to the ex he can’t get over. He still updates himself with their social media. He checks to see if they look happy, and fulfilled. That was all he wanted: for them to be happy. Focusing on his own happiness feels wrong. Namjoon needs constant reassurance that having doubts and fears doesn’t make him a burden. Time and presence build the relationship slowly. His soul was threadbare when Namjoon met you. Treating you like the light cutting across a stormy sea slowly eases into something calm. He stops needing constant balms for his insecurities. Kind words, quiet understanding, and random acts of affection don’t disappear. The process is slow. Namjoon begins to accept that you aren’t giving those things to him out of a domme’s obligation; or to preemptively dry his tears. You’re giving them because you love him.

𝙎𝙀𝙊𝙆𝙅𝙄𝙉

It’s a long-distance relationship. He can manage the time and energy he puts into it simply. When negativity about the type of all-knowing financial provider his ex wished he was started, Seokjin realized something. He doesn’t want to lead. He just wants relaxation. Nothing about this is relaxing. Seokjin wants to smash his keyboard in flustered frustration with every compliment you send him. Gifts showing up in his P.O. box make him feel like he’s using you. When he asks if you can talk about something serious, you're listening. He doesn’t know what to do when he isn’t the one leading a relationship. Admitting his insecurities is relaxing. The two of you are finding a balance, and Seokjin hates the fact that, of course, he’s falling in love. Deep confessions are disguised as cheesy lines and bad romantic puns. Hiding behind over-the-top flirtation releases some of his shy energy. As years and flights become a desire for something more, Seokjin is scolding himself internally for being in so deep that he’s wondering how you feel about house husbands.

[verdandir]

... Real talk, I need to vent a little, this is just me getting some work stuff of my chest, so please feel free to pass on this post if you’re just here for ffxiv/Ver(future Murder-Bun stuff). I just really need to... get stuff off my chest a little and I can’t do it elsewhere. (The only ‘elsewhere’ is FB and I only have that cursed place due to work and older family... which is why I can’t vent there...)

The past 2 weeks have been a complete... I think ‘clusterfuck’ would be the right term? When our start-up was acquired, we knew there would be growing-pains and changes, sure... and those things were happening. But the massive screeching yank that things turned the past couple of weeks, perhaps longer that a few of us were simply not fully aware of, has been just devastating in a lot of ways. When I was hired on, the QA team was being freshly built. Basically, I was brought in with the core team... we were it. There were 4 of us and our Lead. Over time, and as things kind of ramped up, one guy left due to pay reasons... almost 2... but one was enticed to stay when we all were brought in off of contract and given very nice raises. So we became a team of 3 and our Lead. The 4 of us were a solid team. And the 5th is still a good friend and keeps in contact with us in an outside chat channel. The team overall has worked solidly for... give or take... 2 years? I think. Things have been... off feeling, however, as an odd change in direction from the new company came down. Our Lead took this on solo while we were handling other things. One in charge of sunsetting the old Main Project, I basically handling the Client Work and one kind of bouncing between helping both but mostly was on the Main Project since it was stuff I was just not good with.

Fast forward to last Monday and we get the news dropped on our heads that our Lead was putting in his 2 Weeks out of the blue. No warning to us at all. And that this New Project was suddenly being launched ASAP and we were ALL expected to suddenly ramp up on it NOW NOW NOW, when he had been the only one with any experience on it. BTW, this project had not really had any QA hands working with the devs its development cycles leading up to this. Oh, and he was also more or less going dark because... the reason he was putting in his 2 weeks was he was burnt out, had a breakdown and was just Done. Enter the ‘Temporary Lead’ who was going to assist us getting on the project. Apparently this guy has had ZERO QA experience, let alone QA Lead experience. He’s just a dev. He throws a new program at us that is VERY micromanage-y, something I’ve NEVER seen or used. He starts to make noise about ‘not needing a real QA Lead again’, that the QA Team should just be embedded with the dev teams, and has implied to one of my coworkers that he wants to push the team into QAE... something I am not trained to be. While I have asked repeatedly for assistance with learning, it has always been forgotten about because the company is in transition and people are busy... (I get it, so I haven’t pushed too hard, but when this starts happening...???!) This set off the coworker who heard it and he had a breakdown the other night after the stress of trying to handle everything we’re being thrown into/at AND what this ‘QA Lead-devguy’ has said/implied and is now more or less saying he’s looking at other jobs/interviews as well.

Of my 4 person team... that’s One Left, One with a Foot Out The Door. 2/4

My skill-set is not really QAE material atm... so naturally my anxiety has skyrocketed, compounded by everything else. It’s been almost impossible for me to help with the project/learn it because I spent the beginning of the ramp-up for us solo-handling the client builds while the other two jumped on it, so that they COULD focus on it... because SOMEONE had to do that. And I’m the ‘steady one’ who is willing to DO that. And I know that the other two catch on and handle more back-end stuff faster than I do, while I handle the front-end client builds for the team. But that puts me behind once I pivot to assist and then I’m screwed... It’s so stressful and upsetting and I get frustrated and feel that THEY get frustrated because either I can’t help or I have to ask for one of them to train/explain things to me, which slows THEM down. The past 2 weeks have put me on the knife-edge of my own breakdown repeatedly. Just ordering something nice to eat for myself last Friday when work was over caused me to burst into tears. Sleeping is... nearly impossible outside of 3-4 hours tops. And I honestly hate it. But at the same time, I really just don’t know what else to do. This project will be done pretty soon and then our team of... three... are going to have to address this change-over and see what is going to actually happen. I just don’t really know what to do in the meantime. I’m so terribly tired. 

[vo-kopen]

So I made a few Pokémon lists recently

The first list I call Gen 1+. When Lets Go Pikachu and Lets Go Eevee came out, I had some petty frustrations. Not so much that it was based on Gen 1, but that a lot of those Gen 1 families were incomplete. Like it bothered me that you would have Horsea and Seadra but not Kingdra, or have Porygon but none of its evolutions. If you want to focus on the original Pokémon, fine, but don’t leave their family’s incomplete. Especially since you included Alolan forms. It bothers my obsessiveness. So the first list was a compilation of all Gen 1 Pokemon, Gen 1 Alolan and Galarian region varients, and evolutions and baby forms of Pokémon originally introduced in Gen 1. It ended up with 209 Pokemon, with regional varients and Galar exclusive evolutions counted separately. I did not include Mega Evolutions or Dynamax/etc because they are temporary transformations and not permanent evolutions or forms.

If anyone is interested, I can’t list all 209 Pokemon here because tumblr would not let me, but at least here is the type breakdown. Apologies if I miscounted. And just in case it needs saying, these count Galarian regional varients and their evolutions, so the totals might be a bit of a spoilers. Also in case anyone is confused by my intent, this is just my wistful thoughts on what LGPE could have done. It would still be retelling Gen 1 and focusing heavily on that Gen, but now with a little bit more inclusion of Gen 1’s legacy and actually complete families. Also now a dragon type trainer could have a three person team of Alolan Exeggutor, Kingdra, and Dragonite. That way their team is not just from the Dratini family, but they aren’t use fake dragons like Charizard and Gyarados. Anyway, type breakdown below.

Poison: 37

Water: 35

Normal: 31

Psychic: 22

Flying: 20

Grass: 18

Ground: 18

Electric: 17

Fire: 15

Rock: 15

Bug: 13

Fairy: 12

Fighting: 12

Ice: 12

Steel: 11

Dark: 7

Dragon: 5

Ghost: 4

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day three.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.1k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (THIS chapter), mental breakdown (THIS chapter), Tom being Tom

A/N: This chapter contains very personal experiences for me. I wanted the main character to be flawed (because we all are), and the only thing I could write about that would be authentic was something that I’ve gone through myself. If you have troubles with mental breakdowns and depressive thoughts, either proceed with caution or skip this chapter all together.

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. ||

“Good morning, darling.” He greeted once he heard me enter the room. “Did you sleep well?” He finally looked up to take in my appearance. I fully expected him to flinch. There must be dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, my hair must be a mess from running my fingers through it in frustration when I couldn’t find the word I was looking for, my clothes wrinkled from the constant position changed they endured through the night- in other words, I look like a wreck. But he didn’t seem to notice or care. He still watched me, waiting for me to answer.

“I actually haven’t been to sleep yet.” I dragged my fuzzy sock clad feet over to where he was standing getting a delicious whiff of the pig fat that was frying in the pan.

He slipped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his body. “Oh yeah? Were you writing?” I nodded, leaning into him welcoming the warmth it brought me. I lazily wrapped my arms around his narrow waist, surprising myself by how natural this all feels. This physical contact is new to whatever this is we have going on here, but I like it. I like having his strong arm around me, keeping me close to him like he actually wants me there. I tucked comfortable under his arm as he draped it over my shoulder. I would have buried my face in his neck but I didn’t want to push it. “Well then, let’s get your beautiful brain some food before you go back on up to bed.” He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before he returned his attention to the stove. He watched me consume the three strips he gave me before escorting me back up to my room. He cleared off my bed before tucking me in. I was out before he shut my door.

By the time I woke up, my room was pitch black. I found Tom downstairs reading on the couch. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” I questioned as I plopped down on the opposite end. “Now I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Because, darling, you were exhausted and you deserved to rest.” He set his book down next to him before standing up. “Shall I make you some dinner? I’m having a real hankering for some grilled cheese.” The cheesy (pun-intended) smile he plastered on his face was heart-stopping. How could anyone say no to it? He came to stand in front of me, holding out both hands. I happily took them as he pulled me up.

“Again?” I giggled. He started walking backwards, bringing me along with him since he hasn’t let go of my hands yet. They sent warmth throughout my entire body as all of the blood rushed to my face.

All traces of playfulness disappeared reminding me of the pictures I’ve seen of him as Loki. “Oh yes, darling. You’ve created a monster.” He stopped, yanking me to him. My body collided with his, with him catching me like I weighed nothing at all. His arms captured my waist as my arms were crushed between us as I had braced myself for impact. His eyes stayed locked on mine as his voice dropped a few octaves. “A bacon and pickle grilled cheese loving…” His head bent down towards my ear. I could feel his hot breath against my neck. I had to restrain myself from shivering. “Monster.” He almost growled into my ear.

And in one split second, he went from sexy God Tom to playful “Loki’d” Tom as his large hands attacked my sides. The initial contact warranted a very loud shriek, but it was quickly replaced with cackles and pleas for him to stop. I wiggled my way out of his grip and ran into the kitchen to take refuge in. He chased me around the place until I complained of a side ache from too much running and laughing at the same time. We called a temporary truce until I sneakily decided to kick it up a notch. I’d seen them happen multiple times in movies and TV shows and have always wanted to be a part of one. I figured now would be the perfect opportunity. I found myself in the pantry, looking for the perfect weapon to use against him. It can’t be something too big that it’ll hurt him, but I want it to make a mess. Flour is the obvious choice, but I also don’t want to be cliché… Oh to hell with that. I grabbed the huge tub of it and hid it behind a cupboard for future use. I scooped a handful into my hand for my sneak attack. I spotted my clueless victim as he prepared the bread. I went right up to him, hiding all trace of my impending betrayal.

“What were you doing in there?” He asked when he noticed my return.

“Planning my next move.” I brought my flour-filled hand up to his face as he looked at me confused. I blew as I opened my hand, covering his entire face with the white powder. His mouth and eyes snapped shut, flinching away slightly. We stayed still while he processed what just happened. When he finally opened those beautiful blue eyes again, there was vengeance written all over them.

“Oh it’s so on.”

Ten minutes later we were sat on the floor covered in flour, laughing at how ridiculous the other looks. The white powder stuck to our hair, turning it all gray, it clung to our clothes and every single surface it came into contact with.

“I think I have flour in places flour should never be.” He commented, shifting his hips against the floor causing me to fold over in continued laughter. My tears mixed with the flour on my face creating a paste-like substance that will be impossible to wash off later. But right now I didn’t care.

I looked over at the man in front of me who was equally covered in white. His ginger locks and beard were now gray, making him age 30 years right in front of my eyes. To say he will be a hot silver fox is the biggest understatement of the century. I couldn’t help but picture us in that 30 years reliving this moment in our own kitchen, our grandchildren playing along with us, getting scolded by our kids when they came to pick them up. But then I would look at him, all gray-haired and perfect and know that I-

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you…” He trailed off breaking me out of my fantasy. I didn’t realize we both stopped laughing and silence had filled the room until he spoke. He was fidgeting with his hands in his lap, his gaze locked on them. When I realized what he had said, my heart dropped slightly. Panic was lingering, not knowing if it should rear its ugly head or if it would be premature. He took an abnormally long pause which only made it worse. It is the same feeling when someone texts you saying “Can I ask you a question?” and then taking forever to respond to your text back. Agony. Pure agony. “Are you… spoken for?” He finally met my eyes, probably to gauge my reaction. Did he think he was crossing the line somehow? Did he think it was too personal? Was he afraid I would get emotional due to a recent break up? Who knows…

Am I spoken for? Who in the world phrases it like that anymore? Why don’t we speak like that nowadays? We’ve gotten so lazy. Everyone is all about the quick fling or get straight to the physical stuff. No one courts anymore. No one writes long, handwritten love letters anymore. I’m not saying we should talk like Shakespeare, more like in the early to mid-1900s. Going on long walks, bringing her flowers before a date, picnics in the park, then escorting her to her front door, giving a sweet good night kiss before parting ways only to have a smile on your face for the rest of the night.

Like Tom said in an interview a few years ago, “This generation has lost the true meaning of romance,” and how he is an “old-fashioned romantic.” It’s sad that he hasn’t really been given the chance to show that side. And if he has, it hasn’t been appreciated like it should.

Am I spoken for? The only person that could possibly make that sound like the most romantic thing in the world and not at all old-fashioned is sitting right in front of me, covered in flour.

“Okay, first of all, who says that anymore?” I voiced my previous thoughts. He chuckled, breaking the serious façade he put up.

“Well pardon me for being old-fashioned about it.” He placed his hand over his heart in offense. “I am a self-proclaimed romantic.” He stated confirming what he has previously said.

“And second of all, no.” I shrugged, “I’m not spoken for. I am completely unattached.” I shudder thinking about how long it has been since my last relationship and how painful it was. That heartbreak has kept me from opening up again for years. I didn’t want to feel that kind of earth-shattering feeling again. It’s only partly to blame for my perpetual singleness, but a big part nonetheless.

“I find that quite surprising actually.” He admitted.

“Why? Because of my winning personality and devastatingly good looks?” I flipped my current non-existent long hair over my shoulder for effect. I don’t think I have either so I know those are also parts of why I’m single and have been.

He chuckled at my sarcasm. “Why, yes actually. You are beautiful, you have a phenomenal sense of humor,” he gestured around us at everything covered in flour, “you know how to have fun, you like having relaxing nights just sitting on the couch reading, or in your case, writing,” he smiled, “you’re obviously independent since you are on vacation alone-”

“Well that’s not necessarily true.” I interrupted. “My friend would have joined if she could have gotten off work.”

“Alright then.” He conceded. “I still stand by your independence though.” I nodded, not arguing with him. I know I’m independent, sometimes to a fault.

“So, you think you got me all figured out after knowing me for 3 days?” I concluded from his compliments.

“Oh no, darling. I believe I’ve just scratched the surface.” He intensely gazed at me. “And I’m eager to see what else there is to learn about you.”

I found myself asking him “Why?” Why, out of all of the people in the world, is he eager to learn more about me? I’m just a woman from the Midwest that is as complicated as anyone can be. “There’s nothing special about me.” I confessed wholeheartedly. Even if he knew I’m a published author, I still don’t see what’s so interesting that someone like him would want to get to know me? There are so many issues that I’ve buried deep beneath the surface that no human should have to bare or anyone else should have to endure. Dark thoughts that only comes out at night thanks to a trigger… No one else deserves to carry the burden of knowing I have those thoughts. Especially Tom.

“Do you truly believe that?” He asked with a hint of sadness I never wanted to hear or even expected.

“How can I not? When there are so many others out there that are more successful, prettier, skinnier…” I wrap my arms around my stomach, one of my many trouble spots. I’ve always been self-conscious about the way I look. I compare myself to everyone around, no matter what. I always have and I more than likely always will. I know it’s not healthy. It’s just one of my countless bad habits. “It’s hard to see myself as anything more than ordinary. I mean, I know I’m not a-” I use air quotes- “’hot girl.’ I’m probably never going to take anyone’s breath away or impress anyone with the way I look, but I can make you laugh and make you feel wanted, and sometimes I can be really fucking cute. I just wish that could be enough. Just once.” I shrugged again, wanting to change the subject. The way he’s looking at me with such sadness when mere moments ago he was filled with pure joy, I want that gone. So I stood up. “Shall we eat or clean up first?”

For the rest of the night, there was something… off. Like there was a dark cloud hovering over us and was persistent for the entirety of the time we spent together after we peeled ourselves off the floor. I knew the reason for my dark cloud, but even he seemed to be thrown off too.

Not being able to deal with the new weirdness between us, I excused myself and retreated to my room. The heaviness continued all night. I found myself just staring off into the distance as my mind raced with topics I haven’t thought about in years that love to surface at the most inconvenient times, like now. They put me into a funk for hours until I fall asleep, only to wake up like nothing ever happened. I can only hope this is one of those times and Tom forgives me for being sucky company.

More often than not, I will work myself up so badly that I will have a mental breakdown, crying myself into hyperventilation. Unfortunately this time is no exception. My thoughts latched onto the topic that guarantees waterworks and a lot of them. My sobs literally shaking my entire body to the core, gasping for breaths in between, asking questions no one will be able to give me answers to. The kinds of questions only sink me deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Light knocks on my door broke me out of my depression bubble.

Crap. He must have heard me… Well, I haven’t exactly tried being quiet. I banked on the walls being thicker than standard hotels and for him to be a deep sleeper. Both seem to be wrong.

I lay there going over my options: I could ignore him, I could answer and lie about why I’m emotional, I could tell him the truth but that’s not something he needs to worry about…

There’s no way I can ignore him. He was kind enough to leave his room to come and check on me. The least I could do is let him in. However I don’t want him to see me. My eyes are no doubt bloodshot and puffy, along with the rest of my face. I can’t lie to him or tell him the truth. I decide what the easiest option is and unwrap myself from my cocoon of comfort. I slide my room key under the door before returning to the warmth. 

Seconds go by before I hear the door gently opening. I see his shadow in the light of the doorway then it’s dark again. The bed dipped behind me then his hand rested on my shoulder, pulling me back to face him. I lie flat on my back now like he wanted. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering; I tried to even out my shaky breathing without much success. I didn’t want him to think I’m weak for crying for God-knows how long… but those walls have long since been shattered; my strength being abysmal at the moment.

Even in the pitch black room, I can see how close he is. His outline was only mere inches from me. His hand caresses my cheek as I feel his gaze all over my face as if he can see right through me. His thumb wipes away some of the moisture that had remained there. I didn’t bother to try to wipe it all away if more tears were going to flow eventually.

“Oh darling…” He whispered as he slipped his other arm under and around me, pulling me into his chest, tucking me under his chin. An overwhelming sense of comfort- of home- filled my entire being, which only brought on another wave of tears. I’ve never had anyone around during my breakdowns, always suffering in silence. For him to immediately want to comfort me in my time of need… it means more to me than I could ever explain.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured against my hair before pressing a tender kiss on my head. He runs his hand softly up and down my arm just like my mom used to do on my back. His touch created goosebumps all along my arm.

“What could you possibly be sorry for?” I ask just above a whisper, not trusting my voice at the moment.

He sighed, “For all of the pain that is in your heart that you feel you have to suffer with it alone.”

No more words were exchanged after that. How could I when he says something like that?

What I didn’t anticipate him doing was he took care of me. He got me the Kleenex box so my nose could empty out. He rubbed my back whispering soothingly, encouraging me to let it all out. He even went as far as starting the shower for me after I was sure the floodgates were closing. I stepped in letting the hot water relax my muscles and wash over my face, eliminating any evidence of the past few hours. I washed my body with my peach body wash before getting out. I smiled, noticing my bag that was now sitting on the vanity. I rummaged through it to find a different pair of pajamas to get back into.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Tom was waiting for me on the bed. I climbed in and he immediately wrapped his arms around me, pulling me so close there was no space between us. I inhaled the faint smell of his cologne, instantly lulling me into a new sense of calm which terrified me to no end. How can I feel so safe and secure with someone I just met a few days ago? How can he give me everything with no questions asked?

It wasn’t long before I felt myself slip into unconsciousness. There was only one thing on my mind by the time I finally fell… I don’t deserve him, but I sure as hell want to.

day four...

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