#just weirdly funny pattern of behaviour here

[melonteee]

hi. i just understood something about recent op chapter and came straight to you because youre an avid fan and you are surely the one that can rant about it and either . confirm or deny it

anyway 1110 chapter spoilers ahead tab out if you had yet to read

so. i got pointed out that sanjis behaviour in the chapter is strangely out of character . i hadnt caught it on my first read but going back to the manga i have to actually agree with that observation bcz of his choice of words and face

i also noticed that the panel ?? is??? weirdly focused on sanjis expression like REALLY focused (subtle action lines and all) and that the expression in question is genuine anger. like full stop annoyance. like maybe stress is getting to him or something but its not a funny angry face but instead full seriousness and full offense and full 'i mean my every word' way. it just feels . not like sanji all of the sudden

its also feels strange that zoro hadnt reacted to that remark. he kinda just.... notes it down (he twitches which clues us that he heard that) but says nothing further. which is Weird because thats an Insult and from sanji no less so absolute zero on it ???? not right

idk maybe me and my dash is being delusional. i hope its some sort of false alarm but everyone keeps pointing out that sanji feels more like he tries to cosplay himself instead of Being himself and im getting kinda worried ngl,,,,

Interesting you say this because, fun fact! Japanese fans have noticed Sanji's speech has indeed changed lately, and it's a bit lost in translation since it's kind of hard to copy speech patterns from an original language over into English. Either way, Japanese fans have noticed Sanji is starting to speak like...Boa?!

Ie, Sanji is speaking more royally, more obnoxiously, and more arrogantly. Now, Sanji's always been a firecracker with a sharp tongue, but not in the way that he looks down on and demands things from people? During Egghead, he told Shaka to release them from their shoe locks - but a Japanese fan said a better translation of that would probably have been Sanji calling Shaka an 'insolent man', or a 'foolish man', in the same way Boa speaks to people.

There's clearly something going on here, and I thought the same thing! But...people kept saying I was looking too much into it, so I stopped saying anything HAHA! Either way, the second I talked to my Japanese friends and saw tweets from the Japanese side of twitter discussing Sanji's change in speech, I thought...I knew it! There's definitely a difference here! I have no idea what's going to happen, but I cannot wait to see it!

[secretbangtnn]

summary : Getting a letter from a very prestigious school was something that you could have never expect, and even more unexpected was that you didn��t need to pay a penny for it. Beautiful news that were too good to be true, but oh how stupid you were to not question such a perfect chance to get away from your shitty life.

notes:

Guys i would be more than happy for some feedback, its my first time writing in english and im more than nervous. Im not sure if what i wrote is good or even understandable. + i would be more than happy to start an ask game with this book

Chapter one

Living or in your case existing was always somehow calm. Everything you do had a plan and everyday had the same pattern, like a boring vase that stood in the same kitchen you actually were. Blue marble tiles awfully similar to tears that run down the woman's cheeks, making them a little bit more redder than before.

Not that they weren't that color before, always blushy and ready to be seen. And maybe that's why you had that sour taste in your mouth while watching them, knowing that your own were as beautifully red as hers.

"why?" a simple question sounding now like the last call for help. Voice groggy and nose runny making the sight before even more unbearable to look at. But why weren't you moved, why the tears didn't make you guality like they should. "you planned this?! You planned to leave me alone like a selfish bastard!"

Looking down didn't seem like the best option, knowing that it could just take the nerves in the room to a whole new level but you could not stop yourself. She was always one to guilt trip you into everything.

A little shout left the chapped mouth making you jump a little while lifting your head simultaneously. Sight before you seems to worsen and as you took a step back the woman took another two in the end catching your small wrist in her clawed hand.

Hissing and looking dead in her eyes made you somehow more conscious of the whole situation.

“I didn’t know.” and you really did not. Gritting your teeth so hard that it felt like some of them could fall out at any moment seems to stop you from doing sudden movements.

Breathe in and breathe out.

“Of course you think I am stupid! Just like your father, bringing me to insanity step by step. But that’s what you wanted from the beginning, am I right?”

“Stop being delusional mom” Oh how hard it was to say the name of that woman. Mother of child that she forgets most of the time, only to remember at the most shitty time. Today was exactly one of the examples of why your dream was just to wake up not seeing or better not having to think of that woman.

“Am i now? It’s you who wants me like this.” She laughed, throwing her head back in the motion. Elegant column of her neck now easy to see, showing purple and red marks similar to those from claws. “You thought I would not know, you thought you could just run away like a scared little child. Now tell me, how long were you planning this o-or maybe it was your father’s plan from the beginning.”

“I didn’t know about it, I didn’t even apply to any of the schools and you are the one that should know that.” toxicity leaked from your voice in big streams, but it was something that u could not stop at that moment. She was doing it again, acting crazy and psycho making everyone question why she wasnt getting hospital help yet.

“So you are saying that it’s my fault? You were supposed to care for me, for your ill mother, not that you are useful for anything else. How could you even think of disappearing, going to school so far away and leaving me to rot here myself like you were not meant to end like this too!”

Snatching your hand you looked at the woman once again, tears in eyes making you look fragile. Her own body looking weak, nearly dead limbs hanging from a malnourished body, showing the world wrack of a woman she was. Complexion ill looking, but what was not in her case, pale looking with green, purple and blue spots everywhere the skin was shown.

“Why are you being so shocked? Don’t tell me you thought you were going to leave someday.” Her laugh made you grit your teeth, jaw starting to hurt from the tension you were keeping. “Once again you showed how foolish you are, just like your father, just like that scumbag.”

“You are insane.”

“That we already know, so why don’t you come back to your room and start preparing for tomorrow. I want to eat a really nice breakfast next morning and maybe then after we can talk about what job you are going to have to make a living for us.”

And that was your sign to go, not looking back at the sick smirk on your mother mouth momocking your whole being. Step by step you saw the old stairs, in some place missing the color. Your room was nothing special, at least that what people said, for you it was some type of heaven. Peace that you could only catch while being there, laying on your old bed while looking at the dull ceiling.

Closing the door, you exchaled a heavy breath, sliding down on the flat surface of the door. Eyes closed like you have always done after an intense situation, today was not an exception to that.

Asking yourself what just happened, how and why. Unconsciously you looked at the letter beside you, laying so weirdly on the piece of not carpeted floor. The big fault in a little piece of paper. It was funny how this thing made such a bad influence on your life just by arriving on your doorstep.

The fact that the only person you could compare yourself to now is a story character of the name Harry was nearly not as funny as it sounded. However how u can explain getting a letter from a prestigious school you for sure did not apply or even looked up not even thinking about getting a scholarship to having a chance to think about it.

By any chance you were not stupid, but your ambitions flew away with another day in this shit hole you called home. Main reason being your own mother, which not only made it clear but for sure would kill you faster than let you leave.

You took the letter, keeping it in your hand like some unknown object you have never seen before. The texture itself is weird, making you shiver in some way. Big letter stood on the black piece of paper meaning only one thing.

Oh yes, that definitely was unsetting.

You remember clearly the first time you read the words that were put in this blank envelope. Big chance waiting for you, welcoming you with big arms and assuring you that you have nothing to be scared of.

And maybe those words were the one that brought you to that situation. It was not even three hours after the fight with your mother. Sun long down now moon shining on your pale face. Packing everything you tried to be quiet and quick hoping that your mother again ate too much of those big pills.

Big bag now laying down on your bed with a small letter beside it looking as innocent as before. You were not even seventeen making decisions that would cost you more then you can imagine. Living hell with possibility of going to another but in that moment nothing mattered like running away from old monsters.

Floor cracked under your feet even thought you were considered as a lightweight. How could you not be so malnourished when your mother forced you to teach yourself how to cook, never letting you eat before her. You tried to reason her moods or harsh behaviour to you but no matter how many times you tried it always ended in another reason why your life was just simply sad.

Running away was a good decision. You tried to say it so many times to actually believe in those empty words. The truth was that you were an innocent little child, not even a full adult that has never tasted a social life or had a friend.

“It will be alright.” Taste on your tongue after saying this a little sour with a heavy backpack danglin on your right arm. One step and then another, you touched the cold handle of your white doors. It was the first move to make and probably one of the hardest.

Bag on your arm is even more heavy making you realise what is happening. Silent breath flowed past your lips preparing you for your next step.

You pushed it closing it carefully while hoping that the oldish touch to the wood wont make an appearance in a loud noise. Silly smile now seen on your face with big relief in the back of your mind. The hardest part was just before you.

Your mothers room, not fully closed - like always, she needed to make sure nobody would come uninvited. It was just one of her weird characteristics that came with such a messed up mental health.

Small noise came out under your feet, not loud enough to wake up the woman next door but audible enough to be heard from closer.

Photos all around you telling you that you were getting near the main door. Little pictures with you inside faded from ears of hanging, making you stop for a while.

Smooth glass now under your fingers as you touch a specific photo. You and your mother being in the green garden of your grandmas. Happy vibe and pretty smiles now nearly unbelievable to witness on either of faces. It hurted or maybe it was just the adrenaline escaping from a sudden stop.

Oh how the sweet monet was quickly destroyed by the harsh noise from one of the rooms, and you exactly know which one. Loud thud rang out in the quietness of the house, making the silence even more noticable. Your breath escaped leaving you in a big ball of nerves and anxiety.

One...two...three

Silence like the one before big storms but maybe just this time it was not that. You couldn't withdraw now, you were too far and too close to the feeling of freeness. So you did the only thing that came to your mind.

Catching a sliding backpack, you turned to the door in front of you, knowing that just behind them is waiting something so much bigger than your old mother. How stupid for you to not rethink your decision, and believing your innocent mind that its just a good thing, better life that could only make you happier.

So you did it, you took the heavy steps that echoed in the narrow corridor. Light breeze touched your face, and just like the first time you gasped at the feeling. Door closing not that gently as you started running as fast as you could.

Silly smile now on your face with a bouncing bag on your shoulders keeping you on the hard ground. It was feeling similar to the first sight of the ocean or the first taste of sweet ice cream on a hot summery morning. You were in ecstasy choked by the overwhelming emotions.

And maybe because of that you were completely unaware of the danger that waited for you on that chilly night. How could you think about it when everything seemed so distracting almost as you were dreaming and in that moment you probably were closer to believing in this being a slumber.

So as you sat on the cold bench of one of the parks near your home, realization finally came silencing your beating heart. Colder weather now felt more real, as it bit your rosy cheeks. You shivered, keeping your backpack on your lap, trying to hide behind it from a chilly wind that seemed like it came from every side.

Being alone hit you like a truck and the little noises of the night didn't help your rising nerver. You started to lose your breath, feeling your tears sliding down your numb cheeks. It was terrifying now with the knowledge of your wellbeing and adrenaline wearing off with every second.

“Mom?” A silent plea that came out of your lips with shakiness that was more than noticeable. You didn't know why you said that, but the woman was probably the only person you knew. Such a sad truth that you needed to understand. You were alone now, and with that thought a more shameless sobs left your mouth with an occasional whimper.

You were sure you were going to end up dead. That you won't see the new sunset with how your body shivered. Not knowing how life worked or what is bad or good you were a little lamb that waited for hungry wolves to eat her whole.

And maybe one of those predators just saw his next meal. Long strides brought him just in front of you. Your sobs are too loud to make you hear his boots coming closer and closer. His breath just centimeters away from your head, brushing your hair like the not forgotten wind.

“Sweetheart?” It was a calming voice, not too deep but definitely belonging to a grown man. Your posture momentaly stiffened, as your closed eyes now looked at the big leather shoes before you. Your whole body is not moving, only shivering because of the chilly weather and light clothes. It was funny how suddenly you have forgotten about being alone, now wanting just this, wishing for all of this to be a big nightmare.

A deep sight left man's lips reminding you about the realness of the whole situation. You could not move, completely scared, your fingers clutched the bad praying for something to happen. The plan to just act like you were not there, ignoring the man fastly ended, when he sighted once again and crouched just to your eye level.

Deep brown eyes, looking at you with nothing but softness. If you didn’t know better you would say the man looked as if he knew you, cared and was in big relief finding you. But your mother's words echoed in your head, making you believe that every man walking on this planet is bad.

“What are you doing here sweetheart?” Once more this deep voice pierced you. Your mouth opens to answer, deeply knowing that nothing will come out. You just looked in his dark eyes, wishing that maybe he will be the one who can read minds. His eyes now on you, more concerned than before, observing your shivering body.

He was tall and broad for sure, towering over your figure surprisingly even while crouching down. His huge shoulders covered by a creamy coat which now was getting dirty by laying down on a pavement, as it partly hid his expensive looking boots.

Too distracted you didn't notice his hand coming to touch your red cheek, now gently stroking the redness of your skin.

“What a poor soul, so cold and left alone without a coat. Tell me sweetheart would you come and let me warm you a little?”

[inkdemonapologist]

Okay but I do actually want to know both the things you love and the things you could rant about from DCTL?

OH BOY UHHHHHH okay lets see, I'm gonna see if I can do the "add a readmore after you post it" thing and see if that'll keep it stable.......

But also, much like Sammy, I am incapable of shutting up unless you strike me in the head with a blunt object, so uh, forgive my wordiness:

THINGS I ENJOY:

- DCTL gave us Sammy's ink addiction and like, if you had asked me before all this "what would you most like to see in a franchise?" I would not have answered "one of the characters drinks ink accidentally and then discovers that he can't stop" but boy that sure is my favourite concept that I LOVE to see handled literally any other way than how the book handled it!!!

- I like what it added to Tom and Allison and Norman!! Like, it's not big twists on their characters or anything -- we already knew Tom felt he was doing the wrong thing, so getting to see his CRUSHING GUILT over creating the machine isn't New Information, but it's nice to see and understand more of him; for all of them I feel a lot more attached to them after getting to see more of them as people.

- Like 90% of the "I LOVE IT" category for me is how the book handled Joey, and Buddy's relationship with Joey. The way Joey isn't a Sinister Mastermind Who’s Just Screwing With Everyone but just manipulative in a more mundane way -- someone who thinks of himself as just the guy with the vision to call the shots; he wants what he wants and this is how he's learned to get it; he exploits people not through devious schemes, but just by offering them something that they want or need and asking too much in return, expecting their loyalty for his favours. And the way he interacts with Buddy, making Buddy complicit with him and keeping Buddy off-balance and insecure while making him a favourite and treating him as Special is just PERFECT --  gives a lot of content to kind of extrapolate off of when pondering what must've drawn the others in and convinced them to ignore the red flags. I was initially frustrated with the idea of Buddy not being an artist and jUST DECIDING TO LEARN TO ANIMATE ON THE SPOT ("I've never done this before but I'm sure I can just do an artist's job" is a weirdly common throwaway thing in media and as an artist iTS A PET PEEVE) but actually the way they use his plagiarism to make him trapped in a lie in ways Joey doesn't even realise ends up being a neat echo of other employees (coughTOMcough), who were involved in much graver sins but suddenly felt they couldn't object or they'd lose their one chance, just like Buddy. There's a lot here that I think is really great.

OKAY THATS THE GOOD STUFF, LET'S COMPLAIN ABOUT SAMMY:

- Uncomfortable Bigotry Vagueness that we all knew was gonna be in this list -- I dunno man, a guy committing a microaggression and getting startled and defensive when he's called out for it doesn't necessarily completely ruin his character I GUESS, but the way this was handled is just SO WEIRD AND VAGUE that it's uncomfortable and it doesn't seem to serve any real purpose. "Is Tom black?" is a question I actually have to ask because the text sort of implies he is while also dancing around it and apparently Word of God said he's not??? which makes Buddy's comment nonsensical???? And I mean, you could go that route, since Buddy wonders to himself if Sammy talks to everyone like this -- HE ACTUALLY DOES!! Even within the text of the novel, he uses "Joey" instead of Mr. Drew, which is consistent with his audiologs in the game -- but that makes the writing suggest "this character THINKS this guy might be racist but actually they're reading too much into it and it wasn't racially motivated at all, he's just a jerk!!" wHICH IS SOMEHOW EVEN MORE ICKY??? Anyway like yeah I guess it's not inconsistent with his character that while Sammy Lawrence may not have any specific grudge against minorities he has probably not checked his privilege or done the work to challenge his own internal biases, but “Your Fav Probably Contributes To Systemic Racism In Ways He Hasn’t Considered, As Do We All When Our Assumptions Go Unchecked” is still a wild thing to wade through in a fun story about demonic cartoons

- but yknow so is T H E   H O L O C A U S T

- Sammy's voice is wrong. I'm actually okay with him being a weird awkward asshole, I already kind of assumed he was and that's part of why I like him!! but there's so many places he doesn't quite... talk like himself? And not just in terms of word choice, like -- so in his monologue at the end, he's described as talking so quickly that his words are "tumbling out faster than he can speak them," which initially seems fine; like yeah, that's a Standard Scene we're familiar with, the person who's been Driven Mad With Insight becoming more and more manic as they try to convey it -- until I tried to imagine it and realised that Sammy doesn't talk like this. That's a really consistent quality I always notice about his voice; whether he's almost giddily excited in prophet mode, or he’s his irritated and overworked human self, or he's violently angry and his voice has that echo effect -- he always speaks very deliberately. He enunciates carefully. There's some circumstances where I'd buy this as showing that he's Not Himself, but I feel like those would kind of need to be in the middle of his transformation, not at the end of it.

- In fact a lot of the scenes with Sammy kind of have this feeling -- that it's not necessarily an exploration of Sammy as a character, but that he is filling a trope or archetype role here. Once he's fully transformed he excitedly describes the process as more of a mental compulsion, which is in contrast to his weird yeerk-infected behaviour when trying to get ink from Miss Lambert. Both of those scenes don't seem wrong on their own because they fit tropes we know -- but they feel weird when you try to fit them together.

- I also just in general am not a fan of the ink acting like a weird yeerk. It can be a parasite I guess but when it starts overwriting and puppeting people and crawling around to enter their body that's just a completely DIFFERENT kind of supernatural story and it’s not what im here for!!!

- THE FREAKIN!!! HE WILL SET US FREE!!!! WHY????????? SAMUEL LAWRENCE WHAT IS HE SETTING YOU FREE FROM??????? Sammy has No Motive for any of what he's doing, other than just Ink Made Me Do It. The whole thing that was INTERESTING about Sammy as a character is the contrast between this frustrated, ornery musician with no specific love for the cartoons he works on, and the manically devoted cultist he becomes. What happened in the middle there? What made him desperate enough to shift his mindset so much? "Something supernatural made him do things that don't benefit him in any way" is a very boring answer to this question!!! Susie was a victim who implies that her transformation has forced her to do things she didn't want to do, but we can still see her motive -- she wanted to be Alice, so she took a sketchy offer to try to get what she wanted. Even now, her violence echoes that goal -- to be a more perfect Alice. What did Sammy want? WHO KNOWS. Even in his ink-addled state at the end, we don't understand what he hopes the Ink Demon will even do for him, and in fact he seems to be responsible for creating the very scenario he's begging Bendy to reverse in the game.

- [sighs loudly into my hands]

- Overall I'm left wondering if the author just..... didn't like Sammy Lawrence? And I don't mean that in the sense of him being a rude jerk -- like, Joey is not a good person, but the author seems to be interested in him and in what makes him tick. There doesn't seem to be that same interest in Sammy. Sammy's role in the story is that of a monster, transformed into something murderous, unable to prevent or choose it. He's not a victim of anyone but the ink, no one had to manipulate him or figure out how his brain worked or what he wanted or what he feared or give him any reason to do the things he does -- ink got in his mouth and overwrote his personality. And we don't even get to see that change, not really. He starts out angry and defensive and continues being angry and defensive up until his very last scene, denying his ink-stealing but not really much else. We see all his prophetic sketches but we never see hints of this in him, we never see him start to act more excited and hopeful, we never see him seek out the demon he desires to please. Why do we never see Sammy struggling between his dismissive angry front and a building religious fervour he can't quite suppress? We don't get to see any of the in-between. There's no interest at all in why or even what it looked like as Sammy became what he became, when, to be honest, I suspect interest in precisely that is one reason he's such a big fav.

- It's funny, in a "cries into my hands" kind of way, when Sammy is just knocked in the head while monologuing and immediately removed from the story without further mention, like...... that sure is the pattern with him, isn't it, he just tries very very hard and never actually gets to matter, but it also fits right in here, too, in this book that doesn't want to think about his motives -- he rambles nonsensically, explaining nothing, gets one trademark phrase, and then is hastily removed so the story doesn't have to think about him anymore.

...................I think that's most of it.

...

Y'all............ I'm not ready for Sent From Above.......... I'm just not.... I'm not emotionally ready...... like..... Sammy has to be in that right..... he’s Susie’s boss and she has that big crush on him..................................... I’m not ready

[headcanonsandmore]

Hello Headcanonsandmore!!! Can you do an AU where an assassin hermione falls in love with the target aka Ron Headcanon list please? hope you can do it i've wanted that forever!!! Love your blog BTW

Hello, anon! Yes, Ican! Hope you like this! Thank you; glad you like my content!

Putting this all under the read-more bar because this got way longer than I originally expected. Hope you like it!

It was just supposed tobe a normal job.

Hermione Granger hadnever planned to be an assassin. In fact, she had planned to work in localgovernment for her local London borough. Pencil-pushing stuff. Nothingmorally-grey.

Yet here she was; taskedwith taking out a threat to national security. She’d lost count of the timesshe’d told her superiors that she wasn’t qualified for this sort of thing, butnone of them had listened. She supposed the government was lacking in peoplewith critical thinking. Which made more sense that it should.

Her target wasapparently on several government watch-lists. Involved in some sort ofconspiracy to do… something. The case files about the target weren’t very clearon why they were so dangerous.

Hermione sat down infront of the window. She had been told to observe the target beforehand, so shecould get a feel of his behaviour patterns. That way they could get a handle onwhen to ‘off’ him.

Hermione felt anotherstrong bout of nausea course through her. The whole… assassination part of thiswas not agreeing with her. She felt like she going to vomit whenever shethought about the fact she was being asked to… kill someone.

Deciding she neededsome air, she got up and walked down to the street outside.

She then promptlycollided with someone.

‘Ooof; sorry!’

Hermione looked up asthe person offered their hand to help her back to her feet.

He was tall, gangling,with vivid red hair, and enormous blue eyes that seemed to sparkle.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Y-yeah,’ Hermionestammered, as he helped her to her feet. ‘Sorry; I didn’t look where I wasgoing.’

‘Nah; my fault,entirely.’ The man said, flashing her a lop-sided smile.

‘Er…’ Hermione said,swallowing nervously.  ‘May I buy you acoffee to make up for it?’

The redhead blinked.

‘Oh… yeah, sure.’

A few minutes, the twowere sat on bench, with two coffees between them.

‘So…’ The ginger asked.‘Was there any reason you were so wrapped-up in your own thoughts that youcouldn’t see all six foot two inches of me walking past you?’

Hermione chuckled. Goodgrief, this man was funny. And gorgeous. Definitely gorgeous.

‘Just worried aboutwork.’

The redhead nodded insympathy.

‘Let me guess;government job?’

‘Er… yes. How did you…’

The redhead grinned.

‘Just a lucky guess.’

Hermione felt herstomach explode into butterflies.

Oh, she wasn’t lettingthis catch get away.

‘Speaking of luckyguesses…. are you… doing anything later?’

The redhead’s ears wentred.

‘Well, no… are you…asking me out?’

Hermione felt hercheeks flush.

‘Yes.’

The ginger man grinnedagain.

‘I’m not doinganything. Shall we say… seven this evening at the coffee shop we got thesedrinks from?’

Hermione smiled,nodding happily.

As the redhead wanderedaway, a thought seemed to strike him, and he called back to her.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Hermione. HermioneGranger.’

He smiled again. Hereally did have a gorgeous smile.

‘And you?’

‘Oh… I’m Ron. RonWeasley.’

As he turned away, hefailed to spot that Hermione’s smile had slid off her face.

Ron Weasley? Was thissome kind of cruel joke?

She had just met hertarget; and she was going on a date with him that evening.

Hermione nervouslydrummed her hands on the table. She had arrived ten minutes early to the coffeeshop, after spending the previous seven hours arguing with herself aboutwhether it was morally right to go on a date with the man she had been assignedto assassinate.

It wasn’t. But -everytimeshe tried to argue herself out of the date- the image of Ron’s gorgeous smileappeared before her eyes. She was powerless.

‘Hi, Hermione!’

Ron had arrived,wearing a crisp shirt, trousers and waistcoat. He looked beyond attractive, andHermione had to snap herself out of her daze so she could answer his call.

‘H-hello, Ron!’

He sat down in the seatfacing her, smiling cheerily.

Within no time at all,Hermione quickly forgot that Ron was her target. He talked about his family(poor but large), his best friend Harry, and his job. He said he worked for aspecial branch of the police, but he seemed very vague about the details.

‘It’s kind-of aspecialised branch… very hush-hush.’

‘So… you’d have to killme if you told me about it?’

Ron laughed.

‘I hope not. I’d hateto kill such a gorgeous woman.’

Hermione felt herselfblushing.

‘Oh, shut up,’ shespluttered. ‘I’m not that good-looking. ’

‘Well, from myperspective, you are.’

‘But you are gorgeous,yourself; you’re biased.’

It was Ron’s turn toblush.

‘You… you think I’mgorgeous.’

Hermione nodded, quiteenjoying the flustered and pleased expression on Ron’s face.

‘Thank you.’ Hegrinned, running a hand through his lovely red hair. ‘Hermione… do you…’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA!’

Before Hermione knewwhat was happening, all hell had broken loose around them. Severaloddly-dressed men had released what looked like green fireworks, which explodedeverywhere, ricocheting off the walls. Ron had thrown himself over the table,pushing Hermione down out of harm’s way.

‘Ron, what the-?’

‘HERMIONE, STAY DOWN!’Ron bellowed, now pulling a thin wooden stick from the pocket of his waistcoat,which he then pointed towards the weirdly-dressed men stood in the doorway tothe shop. ‘PETRIFICUS TOTALUS! STUPIFY! STUPIFY!’

The stick in Ron’s handexploded like a gun, sending what looked like red fireworks towards the men,who attempted to dodge but were hit nonetheless. They all crashed to theground.

Ron let out a deepbreath, and lowered his arm. He turned to Hermione, who was staring at him, hermouth open.

‘Hermione, are youokay?’ He asked, his voice tender and soft. ‘Did… did you get hit by anything?’

‘I’m- I’m fine,’ shestammered, clambering to her feet. ‘What- what was that?’

‘That was magic.’

‘M-magic?’

‘Yes, and this’- Ronpointed to the strange men, now lying incapacitated on the floor- ‘or rather “these”are several dark wizard who were attempting to infiltrate the Britishgovernment.’

‘Hang on,’ Hermionesaid. Those faces looked familiar. ‘These… these are the superiors who pushedme into making you my target.’

‘That doesn’t surpriseme.’

‘Yes, it- wait… youmean you knew I was being forced to assassinate you?’

Ron gave her anapologetic smile.

‘Sorry. Don’t worry; Iwas going to stop them before they made you carry out the assassination. Typicaldark wizards; getting innocent people to do their dirty work. But then they decidedto go right ahead with my assassination; they couldn’t have you figuring out Iwasn’t actually a threat. Good thing none of them had good aim.’

Hermione felt her heartswirl with all this confusing information. But what next came out of her mouthwas something very mundane-sounding.

‘So… you’re not athreat to national security?’

Ron shook his head.

‘Not as far as I’maware.’

The redhead then lookedsheepish.

‘Listen… Hermione….’ Helooked her awkwardly in the eye, looking very sorry for himself for lying toher. ‘If you never want to see me again, I can understand why… usually, whennon-magic people come into contact with wizards, we memory-charm them so theydon’t remember us. I… I can do that for you, if you want. It’ll be like… likeyou never even met me.’

Hermione went silentfor a minute.

‘No thanks.’ She said. Rondidn’t try to hide the smile that appeared on his face. ‘You still owe me aproper date, remember?’

‘I do remember.’ Ronchuckled. ‘How does the Italian restaurant three streets away sound?’

Hermione smiled.

‘That sounds good.’

Thank you so much for the request, anon! Hope you liked this; this was so much fun to write, and I apologise for the very late reply. 

[shipmistress9]

Undine - 7

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hicret/Hicretstrid

Modern AU. Kinda-Mermaid AU.

FF-net   AO3

. o O o .

Yay! Next chapter. ^^

. o O o .

When Eret woke, he found that the bed beside him was already empty. He pouted at the lost opportunity for cuddles, but couldn't say that he was surprised. Even with how Hiccup usually slept in – since he was prone to forgetting the time when he was drawing in the evening – him being awake early had become a fairly regular occurrence since they’d moved out here. By now, he was probably outside, using the lighting of the sunrise as inspiration to draw.

Yawning, Eret stretched and wandered on into the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of coffee. After a couple of weeks living in their new home, it was easy to find the way even sleepy as he was. He’d just taken a sip, humming at the bitter-sweet taste that promised wakefulness, when he noticed that Hiccup’s favourite cup was still standing by the sink, clean and clearly unused.

Eret frowned at the cup for a moment, then threw a worried glance out of the window. If Hiccup had been so distracted that he hadn’t even gotten himself a cup of tea... With more uneasiness than he wanted to admit even to himself, Eret hurried out of the backdoor that led right to their garden. It was a strong word for the small terrace where only a simple table and a bench stood, and the probably once beautifully arranged flower beds were overgrown and barely distinguishable from the wild nature around them. Especially since there was no fence any more to separate both spaces.

Which was exactly the problem.

“Oh, not again!” he muttered as he spotted Hiccup standing a good distance away from the house, amidst the knee-high grass and staring out over the ocean. He jogged over, not even bothering to call out for his boyfriend. By now, he knew that Hiccup wouldn’t hear him, would only react to direct contact. “Hey there, are you sleepwalking again?” he asked, his hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. He’d meant to sound jokingly, but somehow he felt as if he’d failed.

As always, Hiccup needed a minute or three before he fully came to his senses again. “Oh, hey,” he greeted Eret with a broad if dazed smile. “Morning, love. I didn’t know you’re awake too, or I’d…” He blinked, looking around in puzzlement. Then he slumped down, leaning against Eret’s chest, and chuckled weakly. “Oh damn… I’d ask how it’s suddenly bright already… but I guess I know the answer. It happened again, didn’t it?” He chuckled again, leaning even more heavily against Eret.

Eret, however, just nodded, unable to find any of this funny. “Let's head back, hm?” he suggested, and wrapped his arm tightly around Hiccup to support his wobbly legs.

By the time they were back in their kitchen, Hiccup was mostly himself again. With fluid motions, he prepared breakfast for them both, scrambled eggs on toast, and even joked again.

“Gods, that Undine is really getting to me it seems,” he said cheerfully. “Sometimes I wonder whether we will ever see her. I'm curious, you know? I mean, sure, Mrs Ingerman said she doesn't have a fishtail or something. But how does she look? Do you think she'd have pointy ears, gills, or webs?”

But Eret just rolled his eyes. “You know that something like mermaids – or the Undine Mrs Ingerman told us about for that matter – don't exist, right? Those are nothing but fairy tales, and I think we are too old to believe in those,” he said teasingly, even as he didn't really feel like joking. Because every bit of logical reasoning aside… even he couldn’t explain what was happening to Hiccup.

Absentmindedly, he sipped his coffee and ate his breakfast, trying to think of some other sensible explanation, when Hiccup interrupted him with another topic.

“So, are you coming along to town today? Fair warning, I'm going to be pretty busy. There are at least four customers I need to check in with, maybe five. That's going to take a while.”

“Oh, right. That's today. Uh…” Eret pondered for a moment, but then shook his head. “No, I'll stay here if that's all right with you. I've got to catch up on my book, and I feel like today is a great day for writing.”

Hiccup nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. And yeah, no problem. I'm going to drop in at the shop on my way back; is there something you want me to get for you?”

Eret thought for a second, then shook his head. “No, not really. Just the usual – and maybe not too heavy food for dinner? I have plans…” He grinned, making Hiccup smirk accordingly.

“Can't wait.”

It didn't take long after that until Hiccup was ready to leave, wearing a black leather jacket Eret adored on him and his backpack with his laptop. “See you later, love,” he said cheerfully, and stretched to give Eret a quick goodbye kiss.

But Eret wouldn't have that. The moment he got the chance, he wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend's waist, and pulled him close into a deeper kiss. Hiccup gave in easily, chuckling against his lips, and brought one hand to the back of Eret's neck, drawing him even closer.

“Mmh, don’t take too long,” Eret mumbled, and released him with a regretful sigh. Their life out here was pretty easy and relaxed, but sometimes, there were still appointments they couldn’t miss.

Once Hiccup and their truck were out of sight, Eret prepared himself another big mug of coffee, and got ready to get to work himself. It was a beautiful day, already warm even so early in the morning, and it probably wouldn’t be long now until they could go swimming in the ocean. He decided to set up his laptop outside on the small terrace, and it didn’t take long before he sat comfortably and with his document open, ready to start.

It should have been an easy task, writing out his notes in full. But he wasn’t able to concentrate, his mind constantly drifting back to the morning and to Hiccup. What was it that was up with him? Was he turning into a sleepwalker all of a sudden? Whatever it was, it was a little disturbing, but Eret refused to believe even for a second that his behaviour could come from the influence of some mystical creature. Things like mermaids or dragons or spirits didn’t exist. He’d researched enough of those myths to recognise the pattern. Someone had made up a story once, and then everything – from the weather to cheating partners and the death of children – got ascribed to that one explanation. But Eret wouldn't fall for that.

Maybe it was just living out here that affected Hiccup, he mused as his eyes wandered over the ocean’s surface. The quiet and solitude out here was immense, and only got interrupted by the constant rushing of the sea, the only sound far and wide. It was fascinating, Eret had to admit as his eyes followed the waves, watched them crashing against a single rock some 50 yards away from the shore. Soothing yet never boring, and the light breeze on his face almost like the caress of a lover.

It was beautiful, mesmerizing. The feel of the wind, the sight of the glistening sun on the ocean, the brine in his nose and on his tongue, the sound of the waves almost like a melody. So beautiful...

Eret flinched as something warm landed on his arm. With a low gasp he shook his head, weirdly hazy all of a sudden, and it took him a moment to realise that someone was talking to him. He had difficulties focusing his eyes, especially as what he saw didn’t make sense.

“Hiccup?” he asked, bewildered. “W-what are you doing here? Did you forget something?” He felt strange, tired, exhausted even, and his eyes were playing tricks on him. Everything had the wrong colour.

“No, I didn't,” Hiccup sighed, then tugged at his arm, one hand wandering around his waist to guide him. “But let's head back toward the cottage and sit down before we talk, all right?”

Eret blinked, confused, but followed Hiccup's lead. Back to the cottage? But… but he'd never left it! Slowly he let his bleary gaze wander around, taking in his surroundings. They were at the end of the small headland a good 100 yards away from their cottage, surrounded by the knee-high grass and on three sides by the ocean. How had they ended up here?

Next, Eret understood why everything looked so strange. The sky and everything around him was tainted in red and gold by... the setting sun?

“What happened?” he asked a few minutes later after Hiccup had sat him down on the bench in front of their home and had brought him a woollen blanket. Eret thankfully took the blanket and wrapped it around himself, shivering. His eyes fell on his laptop, the display dark and only the blinking light indicating that is was still on, and his mug of coffee, cold by now and with some bug having drowned in it. “I… I was sitting here just now, getting started after you’d left… this morning... and… and then…” His gaze wandered back to the headland, his mind unable to comprehend. What had happened?

“It's disturbing, isn't it?” came Hiccup's soft reply, and when Eret looked at him there was an even softer smile on his face. “And I don't know what it is, what happens. But it's… something. Maybe you're right and it's not Mrs Ingerman's Undine. But what is it then?”

To that, Eret had no answer. He didn't resist when Hiccup suggested getting back inside, and a perfectly done steak and a well-seasoned bowl of salad later, he almost felt normal again. He still couldn't wrap his head around that he'd dreamed away the entire day, but when Hiccup told him of the conversation he'd had with his customers and employer it eventually sank in for real. And no matter how much he enjoyed watching a film after dinner or the quick messy tryst with Hiccup afterwards, there was still this one thought on his mind when they cuddled to sleep, a thought that frightened him a little.

What if this legend was real?

. o O o .

For weeks now, the creature had been watching them. Her heartbeat quickened whenever she spotted one of them outside, humming a low tune in delight. She couldn’t even say why, but they gave her a warm feeling, and she barely ever dared to leave least she missed them.

Today had been a lucky day though. They’d both been there, coming close to the shore for her to watch them for hours, and once they’d retreated out of sight into their small construction, she was unable to hold back. Laughing in delight, she left the rock where she was usually staying out of sight and jumped through the waves, playfully, happy.

She didn’t even understand it herself. All her instincts told her to stay away, that humans were dangerous, that getting involved in their world meant death. And yet, she was unable to stay away, spending more and more time each day watching the construction and the headland, her two humans, wanting to be near them. It was insane, illogical, stupid. But still, it wasn’t enough.

That night, she couldn't keep herself from doing something that she knew she shouldn't do. She'd never done it before even though she instinctively knew how. It had never appealed to her, she'd never been interested. For all her life, all those countless decades, she'd been content with staying where she was. Living between the waves was all she wanted, all she needed.

Or had been until now.  

Slowly, hesitantly even, she glided closer to the water's edge, to where the waves lapped at the rocky ground and the thin beach. Behind the shore, the small construction stood in darkness now, and yet so warm and alluring that she barely could turn her eyes away from it. She shouldn't get any closer, should turn and swim away again.

Once again the thought of leaving the bay rose in the back of her mind. The bay certainly would do without her for a few years, she could move to another place where she was needed too, could forget this place and its humans until they had left this world. It would be the right thing to do, the wiser choice.

And yet, it was impossible. She’d learned that much from her last try. She couldn’t stay away, and she honestly didn’t want to anyway. All she could do was try and solve this mystery.

Humming nervously, she drifted closer and closer to the solid ground until the water got too shallow. Her head poked out of the water, the moonlight casting a pale silvery shine onto her hair, but that was nothing unusual. She liked to look around, over the waves and into the sky. What came next, however, was new to her, daring.

Slowly, she rose out of the water, her form solidifying without her having to think about it. Her body knew what to do, forming skin, muscles, and bones to support her weight and keep herself together. It felt strange, weird, distracting. She felt heavy and trapped, as if she couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Her eyes darted around, vision bleary, until they landed on the small house. Without her help, her arm rose, reaching out – and her gaze fell on her hand.

It was trembling, foreign in its shape, its movements alien. Not right. Not her!

Keening, she threw herself back into the water, her body flowing apart into its usual shapeless form, and without looking back even once, she swam away. Humans weren't worth it, she reminded herself. They never were! It would be better to stay away.

But she already knew that that wasn’t an option anymore.

. o O o .

So... Apparently, it’s not just Eret who’s affected by this... 😬

[ellyzsx]

Story time

Suicidal thoughts run keen through my head. Driving through Krakow country side I saw a housing estate next to lovely tall trees - forest like - and thought what a lovely area to be able to play as children. Then I wondered which is the tallest tree could I hang myself from? No former context, no sadness, just my empty emotions triggering my brain to tell myself I should be dead. This is how my life is now.

I dream most days and nights of my life ending in disasters. Lachesism. I say I'm scared of when lorrys drive to close or fast past me. But I'm scared for the moments when they don't kill me. People point out that I drive recklessly because they are afraid of the end; I'm not afraid. Driving that way feels like freedom, my chance to escape, even with intent to cause self harm.

I don't want a grave stone, I don't want my ashes to be spread. I want my organs donated and the rest burnt. The ashes can be used in cooking because I am one spicy mother fucker! Joking!! Don't worry, I really just want them turned in to jewelry so I can still shine while I'm gone.

The ironic thing about my situation is that I want to die to end my suffocating thoughts but at the same time I still have little bits of me that knows some of my self worth. Contradictory as it may be, I probably laugh and smile everyday without a doubt but my thoughts of disaster never leave. I work and study hard but I'm still occasionally believe I am a failure in my mind; like I'm always worse than everyone in the room. I love people and helping out everyone, but I think everyone hates me and would be better off not having me around. It's complicated in my mind.

I feel on the road to recovery, I can admit that I'm not okay when I don't feel okay, I know the past history that has gotten me to how I am and I'm seeking help; 3rd increase dose of Anti-depressants, Cognative Behavioural Therapy and many other forms of help I can get. I have supportive friends and family, I'm very lucky that I have my dream career job and I get to go on amazing holidays like just travelling in Poland for the past weekend. I just don't know what it is that drives myself hatrid other than... well myself.

It's a viscious cycle that I can't get escape. I'm motivated and feeling fine one day, something goes wrong very easily that affects me for weeks and then I find a little bit of motivation to build myself back up and it happens again... and again... and again. I try and count my blessings but in order to do that I draw Venn diagrams to see the wrong, okay and right things in my life. It's an occasional thing and the amount of varience I get each time seems like a uncoordinating joke. But It gives me a sense of assurance when things are okay or right for a few weeks in a row.

I've been taught many coping mechanisms in my past 4 years of anxiety and depression. Even writing them down in this form feels weirdly like a strategy. I'm explaining my dark and ugly, following my long journey ahead, and explaining what works for me. Even if one person gains usefulness then this is all worth it.

As we are on the topic of helpfulness: I like being helpful - it gives me a purpose other than selfish motives. If I've been helpful to one person and not to the rest of the crowd I feel like a failure. I desire to be the famous hero who didn't do it for fame but for the sheer enjoyment of people liking them and for a purpose in other people's lives. So I try to help - I volunteer at my local explorer scout group, I help raise and organise charity events, I help and support friends and family. I even try to go the extra mile at work to raise awareness of women in engineering to help inspire and shape them little girls to be the change our industry needs. I also help educate teams on mental well-being and illnesses with in the work place to bring the awareness to here and now.

All positive were written there, but the underlying negative abuse I hurl at myself for everything I've not been enough help on or not doing at all hurts:

"I'm not helpful I'm just in the way, I'm pathetic, I'm a waste of space, they don't need me, they'd be better off without me, it's not working you're a failure, you are making it more worse, stop trying you aren't a good person for doing it."

Just as them thoughts constantly pass through my mind another extreme example from this evening I write on - I was on the train back from Birmingham walking through derby station, I had the thought that I could run away on any train go ahead and not look back and when I'm on the train I can take every single tablet I own and swallow it to die. Or i could come back another night with a home made bomb and make sure I'm in a carraige with no people in it. Why not die? Make it a dramatic escape. Even in the last few typed words I had the thought of jumping in front of a train which would take no effort and only affect 1 person's life than my own. Why do I have these thoughts? Am I a physco path planning my death at every opportunity?

Reading back the first few paragraphs I see how contradicting my thought patterns are. Living with Anxiety and Depression for me is being followed by a voice, it knowing all my insicurities and how to use them against me. It gets to a point where it's the loudest voice in a room, that I can't hear anything else. I don't remember a time when it wasn't like this, when the voices didn't make me feel empty and alone inside. What's even worse is a lot of the people I have opened my heart to have let me down, causing me to shut down further.

My past history is not brilliant, I never felt secure with my friends, I was harassed in college and I've always struggled to maintain my apperance. I've been through some tough break ups of friends and partners and my relationships with family has not always been stable. One thing I find hard is to love myself and know myself worth when the people around you don't like you and tell you that you aren't good enough. But through all this at the same time I've had some amazing times.

I do want to be happy. I just feel useless most days. I try not to complain but the grass isn't always greener and I feel in constant mud. It sounds pathetic but I feel like I'm in a rut. At the moment everything is fine with friends and work. It I don't feel important. I don't feel as if there is any worth to my day's. I get up, go to work, and then do nothing until I get home and sleep. I mean sure I go to netball, dance, yoga and I volunteer at a scout group but it doesn't feel like I'm doing any of it for myself and I'm slowly giving up on trying to please those around me.

But I guess I do it for the hope of my future, for the one, for the wedding, for the kids, for the house, for the lazy Sunday morning lie ins with the loved ones. It's all a fantasy.

Tonight at explorers we were doing first aid training and one scenario was that one of the boys had a cut on his wrist and he was bleeding out. Through those discussions I was thinking how I could slit my wrists and drown in the bath and no one would be able to put me in the recovery position. Another perfect idea but inconveniencing whomever finds me. It doesn't sicken me thinking of myself this way. Maybe it's how I'm meant to be.

My mum tells me I should think positive thoughts but it's like an urge to plan how I should die. Another disaster I saw was a crash this morning. I wish I was in the place of the other person.

Not paying attention to lectures is becoming a really bad habit. I still haven't started writing for my digital assignment which is due in 5 days! But I have decided I would like to end up working for the Naval group in Adelaide Australia! I finally have an aim!! It feels good and when I travel there next year I will get to see if it's what I desire!

Another person has just unfriended me on Snapchat? What the hell have I done wrong now? I'm getting sick of being made out to be the bad guy all of the time :/ And now Facebook!! All for shutting him down over complaining that people can't be themselves or get offended. I've had enough of this work force, it literally is a battle every week just to keep peace. I don't want to listen to your political opinion every 2 minutes I'm sorry but I'm here to work. The ignorance of some people.

Do you know what I'm going to work my arse off and start this assignment today and prepare the manufacturing question to prove to the haters that they only make me more powerful :) oh the contrast in these paragraphs is funny.

This afternoon I spoke to my mum on how all my emotional trauma started. She understands now and it feels like a relief to be honest. I've just been to netball and I feel like I've played really well!

I have decided on a main goal within my career! Naval group Adalaide Australia! (Not long term but a few years in Australia won't do me harm in my life time! Now I've explored the majority of Europe it's time to step in to the big leagues!) Naval group design submarines for the Australian Navy and with my career path I hope that I will have the opportunity to be able to try and apply for a job there some day in the next 15 years! Now I just need to maintain motivation.

What to do when motivation is running low in the future:

• Find the worth of what you are doing

• research and re-inspire!

• be powerful enough to overcome the ruts!

• believe in yourself - you are capable!

• remove any distractions

I just read a quote that said 'don't worry darling this is just a chapter, not your whole story' and I thought well it's a fucking long one! I'm sat drinking mocha staring outside of a uni window in a corridor I look so depressed it's funny! I just needed to get away from the noise and the stress. I only want to talk to one person but he doesn't know that and it's starting to stress me out but it's my own fault for falling for him when he told me not to. On the plus side I definitely want a nice view in my house when i move to Aussie! I mean looking outside to wet britain it's really nice but sunny aus will be tonnes better!

I'm stressed, my brain hurts and I'm tired. I really want this assignment gone. I'm physically in pain from yoga and I'm exhausted :( moan moan moan moan I'm even pissing myself off. I could do with a power nap or somewhere comfortable to sit. I also miss my earphones :(

Just met a lovely man and had a chinwag it was distracting but it's nice to get to know people without it being depressing all the time!

I was in a one night stand with a 28 year old in a 7 year relationship. Put myself on tinder.

I'm tired of people they never fail to disappoint me

Netball is good though! Proper enjoyed chatting with everyone! Good stress relief and even though I haven't done much it took my mind off the crap earlier.

It's been a while

It's working

I feel ok

I'm no longer a mess

I can stop these thoughts

I counter act them

Not everyone hates me

[jatamansi-arc]

As I’ve laid in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness, I kind of wanted to expand on the whole manipulation thing I talked about w/ regards to Lucifer. Because I talked about how I’m able to get people to break rules for me, etc. all the time. 

When I talk about manipulation as a tactic to get people to do things for you, it’s not always a bad thing. Generally speaking, it is, but manipulation has it’s place and purpose and I’m grateful that my grandmother was literally like a Lucifer-esque beast of manipulation because I learned from a very young age how to correctly string a scheme if need be, without making her (sometimes overconfident) mistakes. 

This is not to say I’m a bad person. I don’t go out into the world seeking to manipulate people. But I apply to same logic to my obsession with true crime, and how I profile from that. I know what to expect and navigate around it. That’s why, outside of tumblr, I’m actually involved in a lot of criminal and pattern profiling. I naturally can pathologize people’s behaviour and compartmentalize it and work accordingly.

In my head, I’m an amazing researcher and tactician. If you listen to me talk, though, you’d never get that. I’m kind and polite and look like I’m bloody fourteen years old, but I stumble over my words and struggle immensely talking to people. I can’t socialize well. So I use humor and my awkward autistic behaviour as a way to naturally mask my inability to do that well.

Speaking in Supernatural terns, when people joke about Castiel’s lack of regard for personal spaces or “not understanding that reference,” in a lot of ways that’s a reflection of my personality. I just also come with a lot of Sam’s hyperempathy, which in particular shines through as a very defining character trait. I am empathetic. I care. A lot. And very deeply.

When I talk about how manipulation is not always a means for negativity, this is probably obvious. You lobby for causes you believe in, and in a sense that’s a form of manipulation. It’s a swaying popular support for your cause from a position diametrically opposed or, worse, apathetic at best. But there are other cases that I’m talking about.

I have been arrested, once or twice. Ironically for instances where I am actually not breaking the law at that particularly instance (I break the law a lot, if we’re honest.) As someone who, again, looks like a fifteen year old girl in Disney dresses, I am able to use my humor and askance tendencies to deflect. There’s mental illness on my records. People assume I’m just a crazy girl having a crazy moment. I roll with it and laugh and talk to people and endear myself to them and complain that the cuffs hurt. 

I look like a fifteen year old girl. They take them off. If that’s not a protocol violation, I don’t know what is. There’s further merit in assuming my privilege and this being an “accident” here based on my skin color, but that’s a conversation for another day. I get off with nothing on my record either way. 

Let’s further talk about my break-in. I didn’t really walk away unscathed from that considering the level of absolute hell trauma I developed (though the hugs from the SPN cast were A+), but that was another case of manipulation being used in positive sense.

I want to make something very clear about that instance: I didn’t beg for my life in any instance of that encounter. There’s a lot of things I did do, including bite off a finger (roflmao I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE I DID THAT LIKE WTF ME), repeatedly threw a chair into the guy, etc. But even after that motherfucker decked me upside the head with a solid steel lamp and I was on the floor and he was trying to strangle me to death, I didn’t beg. 

Do you know what I did?

I remembered that it becomes harder for someone to kill you if they think of you as a person. If they like you. So my dazed, half-dead self flew into survival mode and laughed and joked and took this guy’s side. He ended up letting me live because he liked me. Because I was like “nah man, I’ll come outside and vouch for you,” like I actually would fucking do that and not double-cross this motherfucker the instance my eyes set on the police. And mind you, he was arrested at gunpoint five minutes later in my neighbor’s yard while I was hacking up blood and stumbling through my house trying to locate my cats, but being like SO YOU KNOW IF THINGS WERE DIFFERENT I WOULD TOTALLY PREFER TO NOT BE ON THE GROUND WITH YOU TRYING TO KILL ME FUNNY I KNOW RIGHT???? somehow ended up working.

which yeah i got punched for being sassy, but --

i kind of deserved it because what fucking psychopathic aspie am i being like LOL SO HOW’S THAT KILLIN GOING YOU BORED YET CAN I MAKE A SUGGESTION ABOUT STOPPING while someone is trying to actively kill you??

Do you ever hear someone say ‘you never know what sort of person you’re going to be until you’re in that situation?’ Well, I can tell you with 100% certainty that if I’m going to be murdered, I will apparently just sarcastically manipulate my way through it with deadpan snark. I don’t know if I should be amused or disappointed.

And I’m not sure if any of this makes any sense. But I was left thinking about the post I made about how LOL YEAH I KNOW HOW THAT SORT OF MANIPULATING PEOPLE GOES and it’s not that Lucifer and I have similar personalities, because inherently we don’t. We just tend to handle things in a similar manner, and we disarm people with that same level of humor and awkward charm? 

Lucifer uses it to very dangerous ends and I kind of am much more casually aware of it’s existence due to the fact that I have this very weird, natural sort of charisma that makes me very naturally likable to most people. Hell, even the one girl at work that hated me eventually budded up to me after I was literally invaded her personal space on purpose for a whole day and was like I AM A SOCIALLY AWKWARD PEACOCK PAY ATTENTION TO ME GOD DAMN IT I AM TIRED OF THINGS BEING WEIRD OKAY BE FRIENDS WITH ME HELLO HELLO YES HELLO KASSIE HEY KASSIE KASSIE I’M HERE KAAASSSSIE KASSIE LOOK I HAVE YOUR WATER BOTTLE YOU CAN’T HAVE IT BACK UNTIL YOU LAUGH AT MY JOKES JFC YOU MISERABLE SACK OF CRAP

also weirdly i tend to attract all the bible thumpers at work the easiest, and i’m sincerely not sure how. especially with questions like “felicia, who would attend your funeral if you died tomorrow.”

“satan, so he could personally welcome me to hell for all the incredibly bad decisions i’ve made in life.”

and now i’m going to go back to bed and nap I AM SO TIRED. >:(