#os: handle with care (fragile)

[pumaskulls]

Cattails!AU and Bg3!AU refs for Hiraeth are done now! So close to having all the refs I wanted done for artfight finished 😭

[erythristicbones]

"Brain won't make good words" i say and then proceed to go a lil crazy over Mars again

[loveydoveylex]

🔒🍦🎵

(ur art is really cool btw hehe)

hi there!!! thank you so much, I appreciate it a ton 🥺💖 I answered 🎵 here!

🔒 What does your platonic F/O think about your F/O? Are they overprotective of you?

oh boy. so murfy already knew ray long before I did - yet even then, he grew closer to me overtime, to the point that we ended up seeing eachother as almost brothers.

he's definitely the type of guy to have given ray a whole speech on "and if you even DARE to lay a finger on him in the wrong way so help me I swear to polokus I will ERASE you and your entire existence from this manual"

ofcourse it was mostly meant jokingly lmAO but he knew how fragile I was and that I needed to be handled with care. ofcourse ray knew this as well, and murfy had no doubt that ray would take good care of me, but he just wanted to see the look on ray's face PFFFTT

🍦 What do any familiar F/Os think about your romantic F/O?

the captain, my sort-of-father-figure, loves ray! he thinks he's a riot. he was real happy when he heard we got together and even happier when we got hitched (this huge, scruffy, tough-looking pirate dude with tattoos everywhere burst into tears during our wedding because he was so happy for us.) he could DEFINITELY tell that something was up with the way I was acting around ray before we started dating 😅 he could read me like a book lol

[thegreenmetblue]

Daddy’s boy

Part 1 of the Starker Asylum discussions turned out as OS cause I felt like it needed to be shared

Those beautiful ideas come from @itfeelssogoodmrstark, @starkly and me 🥰

Tw : incest, underage Peter

read on ao3

This morning, Peter played sick. He felt like a little kid doing it but he had a good reasons for it. Because then his dad takes care of him so well. He’s super tender and sweet. Not that he usually isn’t, but he’s extra tender and sweet when his little boy is sick.

Peter’s lying to himself if he says it’s not also because then it’s much easier to persuade his dad into some sexy times. And Peter can’t help it. When his dad comes to check if he’s doing alright, he can’t help the small whines asking his dad to make him feels good. Much to Peter’s happiness and Tony’s despair, the man can’t resist his son anymore. He tried to. Everyday he tried to resist him. Since they had this discussion about Peter dreaming his dad touched him. But when Peter’s like this, all weak, fragile and practically begging him to pleasure him, using such cute words as « make me feel good dad, please. », he just can’t resist.

So Tony lets go. He fucks Peter in between thighs, and it seems like the boy can only handle one of his dad's fingers. That’s one of the things that makes Tony just loses control. Peter’s body is just so tiny, he’s so sensible too, reacting to every little things Tony does to him with cute high pitched moans. And they drives Tony crazy. So Tony turns Peter over, the boy laying on his stomach and Tony just has to slide his finger between his son’s ass cheeks, making sure he isn’t uncomfortable. Just to give him a nice orgasm afterwards, one finger in his hole as he does.

The thing Tony doesn’t know is that’s Peter’s first orgasm. Not his first orgasm from his dad but his first orgasm ever. For some reason, Peter never touched himself. That’s something that never really attracted him. Peter was almost scared of it. That until he dreamed his dad was the one doing it. Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it. But still refused to touch himself, that should be his dad’s responsibility to make his little boy feels that good. So he never experienced it. And now Tony is making him cum for the first time, his finger in between the boy’s thighs, the other hand going back and forth on his left nipple and his cock. Tony’s sucking hickeys into his son’s neck. And Peter, desperately discovering that intense and exploding pleasure for the first time. His dad making him feel so good and special. That totally breaks him. He never ever felt so good in his whole life. The pleasure was so intense, he can’t even clearly remember it. He just remember how good his dad’s big finger felt inside him, and how of a crying mess he was. So Peter’s sure going to come back for it at night. But Tony denies him. The man feels so bad. He just fingered his son. No, worse even : he just fingered his underage son. He can’t do it again, never.

After that, Peter finally start jerking off, asking himself what was he even scared of. But only to realize it’s nothing compared to when his dad’s hands were on his cock. He even tries with someone else, one of his friend, because he thought that maybe the issue was doing it alone. But no, it’s the same thing : the sensations are nothing alike, it does not burn so good as much. Even when Peter pictures his dad doing it. It helps for sure but this still isn’t enough. So one day he just can’t stop himself : he comes right back to Tony, almost begging him to touch him.

In the meantime, Tony dropped his will to fight this again. The two first days after the incident, the only thing running in his head was that he should never ever touch his son like that again. But the more the days passed, the more he became almost obsessed with wants to hear Peter’s beautiful sounds when he gets close, to have Peter’s body against him, to make his son feels good again. But he can’t ask for it. Peter needs to do it, so he waits. And when the boy finally comes to him, desperate for more. Tony can’t help it. « I wonder how long it’d take for you to come back at me, baby boy. I have to say lm impressed with how long you waited. Now c’m’here baby. Dad’s gonna make you feel good, just how you deserve it. ». Peter practically just moans at that. At his dad’s low voice and at the anticipation if it. And Tony is praising him, telling his baby how perfect he is. And he should have known Peter had a praise kink. But it feels so good to see the way Peter blushes every time Tony tells him how beautiful he is. But then, Peter starts to act a bit impatient. He really needs his dad’s hands and cock. But Tony has another plan for today. A dad has to make sure he’s a good teacher for his children.

That’s how Peter ends up getting a lecture from his dad about how to suck a cock. Tony starts with blowing him, blowing his brain out at the same time. Peter doesn’t last long. But that’s not his fault : the man’s mouth feels so warm and wet around his little cock. And he has waited for it for a long time. Peter can’t understand why Tony makes him feel that way, he must be a magician because what Peter feels right now is far from natural, it’s magic. So when he comes, it’s with little choked crying sounds, repainting « dad » over and over again. After that, Tony asks him to do the same. On him. He asks his own son to blow him and he swears between his teeth with horniness when Peter’s just instantly drops on his knees and starts blowing him. And Tony’s not surprised, but still so pleased, to see Peter is doing the exact same moves he did on him, the same little twist with his tongue around his cock, the same licking teasing part, even the same deep throating even though Peter never sucked on a cock before. But the sounds the boy makes while chocking on his dad’s cock almost sends Tony into heaven. Jeez my boy is so eager to learn and to be so good, the man thinks. He even places his hands on the same places Tony placed on him. Peter’s being all sloppy but yet so enthusiastic. But Tony doesn’t mind the sloppiness, he likes it. His son is so inexperienced and Tony shouldn’t love the contrast between them that much. But at the same time, he shouldn’t fuck his own son either.

Tony feels like he’s the dirtiest man alive but he just can’t stop. And now, every single time his boy comes to him, puppy eyed, asking for some good times between them, Tony just can’t help himself. This kid is a sin, the best sin ever. How could he ever say no to those pretty eye ? So they keep doing it. And Tony isn’t just doing it, he’s keeping memories of it. He’s taking picture of him and his little boy, pretty much naked. « D... Dad what are you doing ? D-Don’t take pictures of me like this! Im- ah! Im- Im not pretty, I- oh that- that’s so good ah », Peter argues.

And Tony is almost shocked his son thinks he’s not pretty. So from now on, he starts murmuring into the boy’s ear that he’s the prettiest thing Tony ever saw in his life. That he deserves to be worshipped. That he’s just sweet and sugar and Tony can’t resist him anymore. And he wants Peter to feel special. He’s gonna make sure that precious boy knows how perfect he is. And Tony just loves the way he can make Peter squirm just by calling him pet names. And Peter is just so receptive. To everything Tony says, to everything Tony does. So after praising him with a low voices that sends shivers down Peter’s spine, Tony just rubs his fingers against his sweet hole. Peter’s already moaning quietly. And then, when he sees Peter’s becoming too needy, he just inserts a first finger deep inside his son’s ass. Peter’s almost crying. And Tony has this dark pleasure inside him, he just wants Peter to beg, he wants the boy to be really desperate for it. That’s how the edging starts. His fingers inside Peter’s hole and the other hand just playing with that sweet body in front of him. He’s not touching Peter’s cock yet. But Tony’s working on pinching his nipples, burying the hand on his curly hair. And Peter’s moans become higher and higher. Tony can feels it. He’s gonna make his son cum just like this, just from his fingers only, without having to touch his aching cock. So he keeps curling his fingers deeper and deeper to touch the boy’s prostate again. And when he feels the boy is too close, he just stops. Peter is crying because he feels so empty, and he needs to cum so bad. Tony shushes him again and tells him he was so good for him. That he deserves a reward. That’s how Tony fucks his son for the first time. And it’s almost a torture. The boy’s ass is so tight around his cock. And the noises he makes, fuck. This is so good. Almost too good. He knows he only has a few thrust before Peter reaches his orgasm. And Tony was expecting Peter to cum, hard. He’s been edging him for 15 minutes, he’s been giving the boy his cock. However he didn’t expect Peter to pass out from this. But Peter does. And that just does it for Tony, he cums hard into his son’s ass. When Peter’s eyes start to flutter, sign that he’s coming back to himself, Tony just pets him, murmuring he’s okay. But when Peter realizes what just happened, he apologizes, almost crying in shame. And Tony shushes him : his son can’t even understand how an ego boost it was.

But then, he needs to train that recently-not-virgin-anymore hole to be able to take his dick. « Baby we can’t have you passing out every time I pound that sweet ass, can’t we ? », he teases, loving the way Peter’s cheeks goes red from both shame and wants. « We have to make sure you can handle those orgasms without passing out. And the only way to do that, is to make you come baby. Many times. ». Peter’s so eager, he just nods his head almost furiously, he wants his dad to teach him, he wanna be able to take his dad’s cock without passing out. They both know it’s wrong. Even Peter knows it, but hell he doesn’t care. It can’t be that wrong if it’s so good. And all his dad does is to take care of him, so where’s the bad in that ? Tony’s guilt sometimes hits him hard, saying him how wrong and dirty he’s being. But Tony tried to resist for so many years. Peter has always been his perfect boy. And now that he let himself touches his son, he knows there’s no going back. And still, even if he didn’t want it. Peter is just begging for it half of the time anyway. What a bad dad he’d be to deny his baby what makes him feels so good ?

The next day, Peter is in Tony’s strong arms, fucking into his fist. He’s so desperate he doesn’t even wait for the man to even jerk him off. He just needs it now. And seeing his son acting so desperate for his hand is such a turn on for Tony. So he doesn’t move his hand at all, letting Peter doing all the job on his own. « You wanna get off baby? Just show your dad how you do this. Show me how desperate you are, Peter. », he growls, making his son whine. The only moves Tony does is softly tighten his hand around the boy’s cock only to hear Peter’s moans going higher and higher. It’s so good that the only words coming from Peter’s mouth are some chocked « dad »s. He’s not able to say something else.

And seeing Tony’s big warm hands around Peter’s cock makes them both realize that size difference between them. Peter’s dick is so small compared to Tony’s. And Peter hopes one day, when he finishes his puberty, his cock is gonna look as big and as thick as his dad’s. But Peter’s still so young, so in the meantime, he worships the man’s big cock. It makes him feel so good. And Tony is a bad bad man but seeing Peter’s little cocklet next to his adult cock is making is whole body burns with wants. So then, as soon as the boy came, his whole body jerking with the orgasm, he uses Peter’s hands to jerk himself off. Those delicate and soft hands are so tiny compared to his own, the boy can’t even hold his dad’s whole cock. And Peter’s hand is burning just because it’s touching Tony there. His own cock already getting so hard again, Peter knows he’ll also cum untouched when the man’s gonna cum.

« Am I doing this right, daddy ? », Peter asks, his voice so weak and breathless, but so eager to please, to jerk his dad off just nice. « Fuck, baby, you're doing perfect. You're making daddy feel very good right now. So, so perfect for me. », Tony answers, his jaw clenching with how good Peter’s hand feels. And Peter’s stomach just ignite from the praise, he could cry from those. So he can’t help but ask if he’s doing good every minute. Tony could ask him anything, Peter would do it eagerly. His desire to be good is too strong for him to hold it in and every time Tony answers him he’s doing so good, it just sends sparkles all over his body, the warm feeling in his belly getting bigger and bigger. And Peter can’t help the high cry coming out of his mouth when his dad calls him a good boy.

Tony is just in awe with what he has in front of him. He doesn’t even understand how he could have had sex with so many people, people as much experienced as him and still… this, the sex with Peter, this is way higher, way better than anything he ever experienced. The way Peter’s just so new at this, the way he’s so sensitive from all Tony is giving him, the way he discovers it all because of Tony- that’s the biggest turn on ever. Sex never felt this good and intense before. Peter’s is such a good son, the best one.

[bots-and-cons]

May I ask what would happen if tfp ( knockout , breakdown, and Megatron) found their shy little s/os baby pictures? What would their reactions be?

~Megatron~

•Finds them kinda odd, because it doesn't really look like you and he can't believe you used to be so small

•Now he thinks you're even more fragile and handles you even more carefully than before

~Knockout~

•He thinks you were a super cute baby, and are cute now as well of course

•Will probably tease you about them, idk what there is to tease about, but I'm sure he'll come up with something

•Asks you to show about how small you were

•Then he is pretty shocked because humans are such weird creatures, like how small can you be and then you’re not so small anymore

~Breakdown~

•He doesn't really care either way to be honest

•You kinda have to explain the significance of the pictures to him

•He's like "aaa, okay?"

•He wants to hear all the stories that come with the pictures though

[oblolongue]

Find the word tag game

I was tagged by @petrichorsis! Thanks, I love find the word tag game! It may take me time, but I’ll do it eventually!

My words are bone, dog, shatter, glow, hollow. Let’s go with my main wip Heck Alek!

Bone

She was above all excited about meeting in the flesh* Selena, the Flail’s mentor, who had turned the Tournament tables nine years ago.

*and bones (otherwise it doesn’t count? why is the expression like missing half from french?)

-

Os : Elle était surtout fébrile à l'idée de rencontrer en chair et en os Selena, la mentor du Fléau, celle qui avait retourné l'ensemble de l'esprit de la compétition il y avait 9 ans.

Dog

:( no doggo in my wip.

Shatter

He took her hand, which looked like so fragile, a glass sculpture ready to shatter if it wasn’t handled with care.

-

Se briser : Il lui prit la main, qui lui parut si fine tout à coup, une sculpture de verre prête à se briser si on ne savait pas comment la manipuler.

Glow

The sand bubbled, radiating a red glow on his pale face.

-

Lueur : Le sable bouillonnait, irradiant d'une lueur rougeâtre sa figure blême.

Hollow

Eyka massaged her palm nervously, thumb pressed in the hollow, trying to juggle her stress.

-

Creux : Eyka se massait nerveusement la paume de la main, le pouce pressé dans le creux, cherchant à juguler le pic de stress.

---

I’ll tag, with no pressure as always, @perditism, @ashen-crest, @happyorogeny and @sparkles-and-hens and anyone who’d like to join!

Your words are: tinkle, tired, sleep, sour and deep.

[cherubsoda]

Wait, FUCK. There was a roasting game. One of your f/os is an indigo incel who, let’s be honest, looks like the type of self-entitled dolt that makes fun of everyone who disagrees with him (even when he is aware that he is wrong; which, of-course, he’d never admit, because of his fragile ego) and, despite calling everyone ‘way too sensitive’, he writes a blog-post on how incels are ‘discriminated’ against by chads and ‘femoids’ on reddit or 4chan every time someone looks at him funny.

Also he looks like he can’t handle spicy food and will call you a slur if you don’t go out on a date with him. He probably holds discourse on the most frivolous of things. If you are winning an argument online, instead of being mature he will just start looking for grammatical faults and try to deflect the subject. He looks like he’d post on Facebook about how high an online quiz stated that his intellect is and will call you a troglodyte if you say that quizzes literally don’t mean much.

this is so fucking funny im fucking sweating. all of this is fucking true, legitimately canon. he keeps lowbloods in his house that cant perform basic necessities of caring for themselves, if you call him out in it he gets all butthurt and i hate it. literally dont condone ANYTHING he does. he fetishizes lowbloods and is fake woke, clout chases, will bully you off the internet, and he'll get away with all of it.

He'd complain that i didnt pay the bill when he would INSIST on paying, would rant ab how Feminine Presenting People should shave their arm/leg hair (if they have any to begin with). Tries to be some hero by saying "you look better without makeup" and proceeds to call me 'busted' when i take it off.

I have to say, the most disappointing thing that's been implied is that he's my f/o- this is where I gotta draw the line, buster. At this point, I hate him so much that if he died I'd re-fucking-joice (thank you so much Marvus' route). He's es basically a character i should've blacklisted but instead i parade him around like a damn idiot.

Kismesissitude should have some semblance of 'trust' that the other person wouldnt stomp the other to death but I cant promise i wont! there should also be some respect which i have 0 of. I've tried finding SOMETHING to make this chucklefuck redeemable, just ANYTHING - the only thing saving him is ME - if I so desire to place myself in this predicament- I'm his only Saving Grace; truly what a powermive in my behalf. With or without me he's worthless and absolute garbage, but with me, he has Something. Not saying I have plenty of worth but anything higher than bottom of the barrel is better than nothing. Should I save him from demise? Perhaps not. I'd be a fool to - however we all know I Am The Biggest Fool of them all. I keep him, simply because he makes me Look Better. I'm not sadist in the slightest but every bone and muscle in my body rejects his zebra mannerisms and quirks.

tldr: hate this guy to the point its not even Kismesissitude- i just want him gone

[loyalflutist]

Am I like you, Father? (F!Byleth x Edelgard)

Rating: General Audience Category: F/F Word: 1,289 Summary:  After the war has ended, Edelgard and Byleth finally retired to the countryside with their daughter. Their times are full of joy and love, but one particular moment reminds Byleth of whom she takes after.

A/N: Here’s a quick OS based on domestic themes in a way. I really wanted to write something like this for Edeleth. :) Hope you enjoy it! I enjoyed writing it.

---

Byleth Eisner watched her wife— the retired emperor— grace her presence in the vast flower bed. The seasons that slowly crawled out in this warm field mimicked the years of warring Edelgard von Hresvelg waged against the Church of Seiros and two other nations. Scarlet carnations bloomed in masses as if they were out for domination against the other floral species. Time eventually arrived in the present as the entire field was swept with the color red.

Knelt onto her knees, in the simple, yet luscious white summer gown, her wife was basked in warmth from the sunset’s rays. Byleth stood from the distant, the tattered overcoat she has worn for many years draped over her scarred arms, her teal hair retaining its disheveled appearance. The handicapped woman that served as the emperor’s trusted bodyguard continued her duty effortlessly. Well— retired bodyguard, that is. She watched over her blooming wife and budding seed from a nearby newcomer.

Small hands lightly pat Edelgard’s cheeks. A pair of feet marched in place as an innocent giggle and laughter bubbled from the little girl’s direction. Although the brown colors dyed her hair, It was unfortunate that their child inherited the messy hair from a certain ex-mercenary, the daughter’s short cut minimizing the scrawny appearance.

Elena Eisner. That was their daughter’s name.

Another round of laughter was accompanied by a playful squeal. Edelgard reached her horrifically scarred hands to cup their daughter’s face. She leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on the girl’s forehead. This caused a burst of glee to explode on her facial features.

“I love you so much, Mommy!”

“…”

Byleth’s eyes softened. Whenever she looks at their child, she would feel her fragile heart race at an incredible speed. Byleth hugged her worn overcoat even closer.

Ever since the natural birth of Elena that shared their genetics through an ancient ritual of impregnation with the assistance of Linhardt’s and Hubert’s research, a new life was wedged in between the two powerful figures. It was easier for them to raise their daughter as they had entered their first year as a commoner, the two of them have already given up their duties for Fodlan.

Years of hard work had finally driven out Those Who Slither in the Dark and any remaining threats that would uplift the conflict’s results. A suitable heir handpicked by Ferdinand, Hubert, and Edelgard ascended the throne in conjunction with the white-haired’s relocation to a new life. Edelgard and Byleth reside in the outskirt of the Adrestian Empire, isolated farmland tended and cared for by Byleth, Raphael, Leonie, and occasionally Caspar, Catherine, and Shamir. They were self-sufficient and created their own financial stability by their own hands.

They were finally free to live their lives… Free from the Crests… Free from the heavy burdens… and most importantly, they were able to live their lives as a family.

“I love you too, sweetie.”

Edelgard smoothed their child’s hair and retracted her hands to let the young girl run off. Byleth saw her wife watch over their daughter with a gaze full of wonderment and love. This naturally prompted the teal-haired to approach Edelgard, her limp prominent from the left leg.

“She reminds me of myself when I was younger.”

“?”

Byleth had just seated herself near the ex-noble with the partially numb limb extended outward. Edelgard immediately rested her head on her spouse’s right shoulder, her lilac hues overlooking the field. Clouds lazily floated above their heads in the orange sky as she continued,

“I used to spend time with Mother and my siblings before they were gone like this.”

“El…”

The older female uncomfortably shifted in her position. She wasn’t sure what to say about the matter. No matter how many times Edelgard recounted her days during her childhood, Byleth could not conjure an appropriate response. After all, Edelgard’s past was riddled with agony no youngster should ever have to experience. Not even Byleth could envision herself in a position like Edelgard.

Her retired wife shook her head. She emitted a chuckle, her delicate fingertips brushing upon Byleth’s hardened arms.

“Relax, Byleth. I’ve accepted that their fate has been sealed. There’s no use in digging up the past again.”

“…are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am.”

“Positive?”

“Yes.”

“…”

“…why are you giving me that look?”

“What look?”

“Don’t play dumb!”

Another playful laughter came from Edelgard, who was shortly joined by Byleth, as she lightly slapped her wife’s sturdy shoulder. This caused Byleth to lean forward and greet her lover with a kiss on the lips.

“You’re so cute and strong.”

“Byleth!”

No matter how old they were, they would always act as if they’ve never aged during their time at the monastery. Flirtations eventually morphed into compliments that were endlessly exchanged no matter the time and day. (Even Sylvain finds it too sweet to deal with.) Another smooch planted on Edelgard as their fleeting pecks on the nose and lips began to tally upward, their giggles and smiles in-between.

“So… now I should be asking you that question, Professor.”

“?”

Edelgard had parted from their fun-loving session and snuggled right up to the sitting Byleth, a hand placed on the soft beating chest.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling fine. Just a bit tired.”

“Hm, Linhardt and Mercedes did tell you that you’re still recovering from the final battle. It's been nearly six years though!”

“I’ll get better in no time.”

Edelgard chuckled. “I’m sure you will. But aside from that, I’m talking about yesterday.”

“What about yesterday?”

“You know… with Elena. When she tried to use the Sword of Creator?”

She diverted her attention to their offspring.

“…”

If Byleth were, to be frank, she had never handled a kid before. Sothis, Jeralt, and her father’s mercenaries had raised her, but the retired professor never once brought up a child from the very beginning of their life. Edelgard was charged with nursing and providing for their daughter. Byleth, on the other hand, was responsible for making the buck and putting food on the table. Time moved forward and transformed their duties to more complex routines. Yet despite her shortcomings, she was able to become an adult their offspring could look up to.

Byleth squeezed her hold on Edelgard.

“I’m not angry at her. I’m just… scared of losing her.”

“Mommy, look!”

An interruption was in order; it promptly slashed right through their conversation. Their child, no older than six, proposed a daffodil after dashing back. However, she did not run towards Edelgard. She ran towards her other parent. That silly, toothy grin beaming in her direction… Byleth easily accepted the gift with a smile of her own. She twisted her wrist and examined the lonesome flower.

“I’m surprised you found this.”

“I found them over there!”

Byleth directed her gaze in the pointed direction. Right smack dab in the middle of the red field, there lies more daffodils. Closer inspection showed that there were only three of them. Unlike the other flowers that wilted and withered at the sight of the scarlet species, this trio bloomed healthily, their petals lightly ruffled by the gentle evening breeze. She glanced back at their daughter.

“Daddy, look.”

A hazy image overlapped their daughter of a young Byleth. In the small girl’s hands, there was the same exact flower as their child had showcased: daffodils. When Byleth reached out to pat Elena’s head, Jeralt’s transparent hand bled into hers.

“I’m surprised you found this.”

“I found them over there.”

At that same moment, a single tear was shed from the hero of Fodlan. This startled Edelgard and their daughter, their questions becoming interrogative. However, Byleth merely cracked a smile, mimicking that of her father, and quietly whispered,

“Am I like you, Father?”

[pumaskulls]

Pivoting from AF posts briefly to show off two more recently finished refs!

[erythristicbones]

is Mars time babey

[magical-agatha]

vent. dont reblog.

how do i deal with my own mind trying to destroy itself. i feel like theres this malicious intent thats taking over my own brain and turning it against me. against itself. it hurts. im tired. ive been drowning it out with audiobooks. but i keep getting worse.

it feels like. the bit of my brain that deals with threat detection is way beyond overactive. it feels like its confused. like antivirus software that thinks the whole OS is a virus andis trying to delete it. like my own brain is trying to kill me. if im alone with my thoughts it just floods me with painful memories and worse. if i have a bad day it spirals bc it attacks me and makes it worse and i cant handle it anymore. im barely surviving as it is and every time i get hurt it digs its claws in and makes it worse. i cant always fight it. and its getting so much harder to survive. im losing so much recovery progress bc i cant keep up with it. im panicky and flighty and apologising compulsively. i keep apologising for existing. apologising for having an opinion. apologising for asking my girlfriend for some small comfort. and theres so much else. im so confused. social stuff is frying my brain even more. i feel unimportant in that special passive acidic way. like my friends dont want me. or that they dont care about anything i talk about. it feels like when i try to talk about something im interested in or ive been doing they dont care. they dont engage. or they interupt me and talk about something they like. i try really hard to be kind and polite and to engage with whats important to them. but i feel like i rarely get that back. its not all the time. but enough to wear me down. idk.

the cruel and impossible part is i cant trust my own judgement. am i misremembering? misinterpreting? midunderstanding? expecting something unreasonable? expecting too much? trying too hard? i dont know! i dont know anything. but it hurts. so im hurt but confused and i cant even know if what im feeling is real or fair or reasonable. i feel stupid. it hurts. i keep getting the urge to run away. ppl dont notice if you arent okay. maybe they notice but they dont say or do anything. they feel bad but they dont know what to do so they do nothing as you cry. or maybe you cant say it. so you stew inside and hurt. then you run away. bc you want them to notice. cuz surely theyll notice if you leave. surely theyll chase after you. but they dont. they think you want space. or you hurt them by leaving. maybe they just dont care. then you hurt more bc ur alone. whatever it was like being with friends, being alone hurts worse. you ache inside for people to be with. ppl to talk to. ppl to like you. ppl to whom you matter. ppl who would care if you left. ppl who would chase after you. so you go back or you find new friends. and it starts over. eventually you give up. you try to at least. but you cant. so you just get hurt again.

this isnt about anyone specifically, its bits and pieces of lots of different experiences mixed together. its just me being angry at this pattern and hating myself for hurting and not understanding or knowing what to do or expect or think. this is venting. im hurting and im confused and im stuck. it doesnt matter. i dont matter. forget about me.

i wish i was the kind of person who was self sufficient. who didnt need other ppl. besides maybe a partner. i wish i could be alone without it hurting me. bc if i could that would save me so much hurting. im too fragile to function. too broken. im like a paper doll. and i keep getting close to the fure for warmth. i cant help it. i cant be alone. it shouldnt hurt this much to be alive. its hard to believe it can get better. but i love my girlfriend and i cant leave her. i will keep living for her. no matter how much it hurts. as long as she loves me. ill keep trying to get better.

please dont get angry at me. my brain barely works. im in a lot of pain so cut me some slack.

[malka-lisitsa]

To say that being a manipulative liar had come back repeatedly to bite her on the ass was an understatement. She does and did what she had to to survive why does no one understand that. Good GOD you lie a thousand million trillion times and suddenly youre a compulsive liar. But the GOVERNMENT does it and theyre still cool people looking out for their fellow citizens. DOUBLE STANDARDS.

This time Katherine's eye twitched but she otherwise didn't flinch from Nadia's verbal assault. She isn't wrong, Katherine would and has always done what she had to in order to survive, but this wasn't one of those times.

The jab to her shoulder got a scoff and a pout out of the petrova as she took a step back. Nadia kept rambling on about a hundred things completely unrelated to this situation. None of her accusations were real, and then came the second jab into her shoulder. Somehow the exact same spot? Ow? That's definitely going to bruise later- but now Katherine was angry.

She snatched up Nadia's hand, did not give a damn that her grip probably felt like snuggles the bear right now it was the act of it that mattered.

"I prefer her right now! YEA! Because she isn't ASSAULTING ME!" Katherine hissed back. The doppelganger aggressively pushed Nadia's hand back at her as she let go of it, and stepped into her space.

This? This is a dumb move, shes fragile and Nadia is pissed and hurt, and lashing out. This? Could get katherine killed, which is why shes doing it, to prove to Nadia that her words are not about survival. So she actually pushed Nadia.

"You think you have everything figured out?" And pushed her again.

"You think you have all of the answers because you know me os so VERY WELL do YOU?" Katherine's turn to hiss. "I wasnt in the first seventeen years of Lizzy's life EITHER. And I CHOSE to give her up, I never CHOSE to give you up. YOU came back into my life BEFORE she did NADIA. YOU we're first. I came back for HER- and now hers a real fucking shocker- BECAUSE OF YOU."

The doppelganger was livid now, seething, the anger rolling off of her in waves.

"Because of everything you told me! Because of all of the ways I HURT YOU- THATS WHY I WENT BACK FOR HER." She snapped, voice breaking as her own eyes watered. "I didn't want to do it again. You said I didn't want you and you're wrong. I wanted you Nadia. I went back for you, I searched every village for you. I couldn't find you.

You want to know why I gave up? Because I was afraid you were dead." Her lip actually quivered. "I was afraid you were dead and I didn't want to know about it. I didnt want to know that my daughter died young. A child. Before she got to live. I didn't want to dwell on the what if I had been able to raise you, what if in my care you would have survived longer- but you didn't because I wasnt?

I didn't want to find a grave, I didn't want to hear word of mouth that my daughter had died- so I gave up because if i could just, believe... if I could just keep believing that you were alive and well, and never have your death confirmed, then I could believe that you grew up happy and healthy. That you lived a much better life than what i could have ever given you. I stopped looking for you because I couldn't HANDLE the thought of you being dead." The anger was still there, but it was hiding helplessness. Regret. The tears that started to fall however, hid nothing.

"I would rather have not known you were dead so I could pretend you werent, then to go on and carry your death as a child with me every step I took for the next five hundred years. I couldn't find you, and I got scared. So I did what I do. Nadia. I ran."

Guilt.

       the fact that katherine finally seemed to know what nadia was talking about and even knew the name of that person whose existence made nadia question everything, didn't manage to calm the brunette down. she knew she was unreasonable and it was unlike her to be that enraged and out of control but nadia couldn't help herself. she was both angry but also jealous and felt betrayed.

      "oh come on, do you really expect me to believe your words?" her words were a hiss, her gaze rigid and unkind. "look at you, you are scared. your eyes dart around like prey that was forced and pushed into a corner where there's no escape. you would say anything that makes you believe will save your skin."

      she stepped closer and poked her index finger against katherine's shoulder, a move of accusation. "you’re a notorious liar, katherine. you lie all the damn time! how am i supposed to believe a word that you said when it actually explains so damn much?!"

      nadia shook her head, the anger gradually bringing tears to her eyes. "it explains why you never truly went looking for me, it explains why you gave me up. i never stopped my search for you. NEVER. although it seemed impossible to find you. but unlike me, you did not want me. you NEVER wanted me. you spend more time stalking the damn salvatores than actually giving a shit about me."

      her index finger poked into katherine's shoulder again. "and then you got your miracle child. no idea how you managed to conceive while being a vampire. must be fate and a gift. do not lie and tell me you do not prefer her over me!"

[marshmallowmalfoy]

Tag // Draco Malfoy // Pt 2

Type: Series

Summary: They finally have a discussion about what the fuck happened, and is going to happen

A/N: I just realized what happened last time was kinda like Harry Styles’s Meet Me in the Hallway. I haven’t listened to this song for MONTHS before right now as I’m sitting in anatomy bored out of my mind lol. Enjoy this chapter.

Warnings: Sex ment., swearing, verbal argument etc etc

Part 1

Recap:

 He threw the door open and she jumped in the chair she was sat in. Her face went pale and her eyes opened wide. She stood once she processed what was happening and grabbed her stuff hurriedly.

“Y/N” He said firmly. Not moving from his spot in the threshold. She froze and looked up at him. He closed the door behind him, locking it. “We need to talk.” 

She stood frozen in place, as though he had cast Petrificus Totalus on her. She held her breath, low and heavy in her lungs. He didn’t move either, but he didn’t seem tense like she was. He took hesitant steps forward and she took steps back, trying to keep a constant amount of space between them. When he noticed, he hesitated for a moment before scoffing and walking towards her confidently. She backed up as quickly as she could, quickly bumping her head against the wall as she stared up at him, one of his hands on either side of her head.

“Draco.” She breathed out, it flashed him back to just after it happened, and he stood there holding her, exhausted. “I-” The start of her words snapped him out of his trance, and he started what he came here to do.

“No. You know what? No. You don’t get to talk right now. I have something to say.” His voice was firmer than his usual boyish sarcastic one. “You’re doing something to me. I don’t know what it is, but you are. What happened that night wasn’t just some random thing, and I know you know that. I know you felt what I felt that night. I know you still feel it. Why the fuck are you ignoring me after what happened?” She looked up at him, her eyes tearing up. He took steps back, slowly moving away from her. “Why?” He sat down on the desk, putting six feet between them. She looked so fragile against the stone wall. It was like the darkness around her was swallowing her tiny frame.

“Malfoy I-” She began, but he interrupted her once again.

“Please,” Just voice was low and sorrowful, his eyes planted on the ground between them, “Please, just... call me Draco.” He chuckled, looking up to meet her gaze, “That is my name after all.” She smiled sadly and took a couple steps forward.

“Draco.” She began again, “We both know... that whatever I felt that night... Whatever we felt... or feel...” She looked down at the floor, stopping, two feet between them now, “... it’s not right.” He was on his feet in a heartbeat.

“What do you mean it’s not right. Of course it’s right it’s-” She was the one who interrupted.

“Draco. You’re a Malfoy. A pure blood. Of high status.” She turned around, going to collect her things again, “I’m a muggle born. A mud-blood. An ugly, stupid, worthless nothing of a mud-blood.” She shook her head, tossing the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder, turning back to face him. He was closer than she had anticipated. Almost closer than she was comfortable with at the moment.

“Don’t ever say that about yourself again.” His voice was sinister. She brushed it off, trying to push past him.

“What do you care anyway?” He grabbed onto her arm and stopped her.

“What do I care?” His voice was a growl. He was angry. She could see it. “What do I care?!” He repeated, but this time he shouted it. Dropping her arm, he faced away from her, the moonlight casting on his white hair. She checked over her shoulder to see if anyone had come running to his outburst. His shoulders were slouched when she looked back. He turned back around. “What to I care?” It was only a whisper this time. He was looking up slightly, as though to help from crying.

“Draco-” She took a step forward but he held his hand out for her to stop.

“I care. I care because of the things you told me. I care because you’re an amazing person.” He came closer to her. “I care because it’s you Y/N.” She turned to walk out. His voice rose with every word, “Why do you keep running away? What is so wrong with me that you don’t even want to be around me? What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that I might actually care for you!” She shouted back at him, leaving them both shocked. She didn’t know why she so readily admitted that to him. He didn’t know what there was to be afraid of. They stood staring at each other for a while, as though frozen in that moment.

“Y/N-” He finally spoke, his voice soft and silvery.

“Look. I’m tired. We can talk about this tomorrow. Somewhere no one will be. During the day. No more late night shit. I need to be more awake to be able to handle this. Owl me.” She turned and walked out with that.

Draco waited anxiously on his bed as the snow outside rained down from above. He has done what she’d said. He sent her an owl simple to tell her to come to his dorms, because he knew no one would be there that day. Mostly because he told his mates in there that he’d beat the piss out of them if they did. 

 “You’re one cheeky bastard if you think I’m about to sleep with you.” Her voice caught his attention. He snapped his head toward the door and smiled when he saw you. Your uniform beautifully set against your thin frame.

“No. No, not at all. You just said where no one would be around and that-” He rambled.

“I’m just fucking with you Malfoy.” She chuckled, walking towards him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Draco.” He corrected.

“Right. Draco.” She repeated, forgetting he had ever mentioned it in the first place. She walked towards him and sat down a few feet away from him.

“How is your day going?” He asked, turning his neck to look at her. She just nodded, looking back at him.

“And you?” She returned softly.

“Fine. Fine.” He returned, nodding and pulling his gaze away to stare at the floor, rubbing the sweat from his palms onto his trousers. “Have you eaten?” He looked back at her, his voice soft and crackling. He cleared his throat quickly after. She shook her head;

“No.” A measly attempt at speaking came out more like a struggling whisper. They sat in silence for a while.

“Why are you scared?” He broke the silence, not looking at her as he spoke. He picked his head up once the words had finished passing his lips. She stared at him in shock. Secretly she’d hoped he’d forgotten, but she pulled his gaze away when she spoke;

“You’ve never been kind to me Draco. How can I have affection towards someone who has put me down for years?” She scoffed, looking up at him, “How can I do that?” He swallowed hard, and laid back, his legs still hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Would you believe me if I told you I could change? That I would change... for you?” He ran his hands through his hair, staring at the back of her head. She laid down beside him, distance between them still three feet or so. She rolled on her side to look at him.

“I might believe it.” She spoke. He watcher her frame shake as she did. “But it can’t just be towards me. If this os going to happen - If you’re going to try and change - it has to be everyone.” He nodded, and looked back up at the ceiling.

“So what now?” He questioned.

“Well, I won’t avoid you anymore. But I can’t be with you until I know you’re making an effort at kindness.” She smiled, examining his eyes, his tight jawline, the paleness of his skin. “But I won’t ask you to be kind to those who don’t deserve kindness.” Her voice was soft. He nodded.

“You’ll see Y/N.” He rolled over to face her, “I’ll prove it to you.” She smiled, leaning in and placing a single kiss between his eyebrows.

“I know you will”

[ellanainthetardis]

Welcome welcome to my new collection of one shots focusing on the bunker! They will go back and forth chronologically and they can probably all stand alone. Ratings will change depending on the os. I will aim for one a week =) I hope you enjoy them and thanks to @akachankami for the beta!

[FF] or  [AO3]

A Dot Of Light

2 Weeks, 4 Days

The bed is small and his side is plastered to her back.

She knows if she moves her head just a little, she will bump in his elbow because his hand is under his skull.

She knows it means he’s likely staring at the ceiling the same way she is staring at the wall.

The bed is small, that’s the thing. She’s grateful for that much, of course, the clans leaders have been granted private quarters and maybe they’re not much bigger than cupboards but it beats piling up in dormitories with everyone else – that’s temporary, in time they should be able to make sure everyone has a place to themselves but the priority is still fixing everything they need to survive in the long run. She’s grateful Marcus is willing to share if only for the ridiculously tiny bathroom attached to it. But the bed is small and there is no avoiding touching each other.

She can feel the round bone of his hip where it digs in the small of her back. She can feel his thigh against her butt. His calf against her ankles.

If she just moves an inch back, she could have felt his arm against her nape.

The darkness is complete with the lights turned off and she listens to the quiet hum of the generators that seem to always reverberate around the whole bunker. It’s so similar to the Ark, she forgets sometimes. But when the humming of engines used to be comforting, this one is like a buzz impossible to ignore at the back of her head, suffocating.

It’s difficult to adjust back to living in a box after living on Earth even for a while.

She finds it ridiculously odd sometimes, when she lets herself think about it, how a few months of living on the ground can overpower a lifetime of living trapped in metal. How quickly what was natural and familiar has been forgotten for something that’s in their lineage. Humans aren’t meant to live trapped in a box, no matter the size of the box.

She thinks about Mount Weather sometimes too. She has a new perspective now.

The faint humming reminds her of the Ark but it’s not the only thing. Being here, sharing a bed with Marcus when things are so weird between them, when resentment and anger cloud their relationship… It reminds her of the last few months with Jake. Of the nights spent awake, not talking because that would have only led to fighting, of the sad certainty that something was broken.

She can’t get over the fact she didn’t want to survive and Marcus took that choice out of her hands.

They talked it out – fought it out really. She cried. She explained. He promised it would get better. They hugged. He held her hand when Jackson stopped her heart – rebooted her brain. They soldiered on. Focused on what comes next, together, one day at a time.

What came next turned out to be pretty much every day of the same though. She is the head of Medical. He is Skaikru’s Chancellor. She heals and he mediates the numerous problems between the different clans. She slowly betters her Trigedaslang and he mentors Octavia. She tries to remember she is a doctor and he tries to pretend the weight of the people they sacrificed – twice now – doesn’t crush him right into the concrete of the floor.

They share a room.

They don’t share much more than that.

She remembers the days in Polis, the sweet bliss of being so in love they acted like teenagers desperate for another taste of the other, the sparkling joy of experimenting something new, something rare at their age, something precious. She remembers every kiss. She remembers every touch. And she wonders how they ended up sharing a bed with her hugging the wall and him sticking as close as he can to the edge of the mattress not to invade the other’s space.

A lack of oxygen and disagreement on how to handle the problem reduced her marriage to that same state once but she had decades of good memories before that.

She only had a few days with Marcus and it’s unfair. Or maybe it is fair, maybe it’s the price she has to pay for all she’s done. She’s not sure.

They’re off kilter, that much she’s certain of.

And she doesn’t know what they’re playing at keeping up the pretence.

They’re adults, they’re friends, they love each other… Maybe they made a mistake. Maybe one of them has to come out and say “hey, maybe you and me trying to have a romantic relationship wasn’t a great idea and we should go back to how it was before”. Maybe it’s…

The mattress shifts when he turns, the move putting an end to her train of thoughts. He doesn’t usually move – not unless he’s asleep or he thinks she is and maybe she always fights to keep awake until that moment when he reaches over in his sleep and wraps his arm around her waist, maybe; maybe she lives for that perfect second in the morning when she wakes up in his embrace and she forgets everything but the weight of his arms, the smell of him and how good it feels to be loved.

She tenses for a moment and then gives in and rolls to her back, reversing their positions. She can’t see him at all, it’s too dark, she can barely guess at his shape, but she knows he’s propped on his elbow, on his side, facing her. She knows because now she can feel his torso pressed against her arm, his shirt is frayed on the stomach, made rough by too much washing.

“I don’t know how this works.” He murmurs the words but he might as well have shouted them. It’s so silent outside their door. Nothing but the ever present hum and the occasional footsteps of guards patrolling the corridors. “Do I have to push or do I have to give you space? I tried giving you space but…” His voice trails off. “I don’t know how this works, Abby. You need to tell me.”

There’s a hint of despair in his voice, the same despair she feels deep inside. The urgency to salvage what they can before it’s too late to be mended.

“I’m lost in the dark.” she confesses.

It’s nothing she hasn’t said before. What she did on Becca’s island haunts her. It devours her from inside. It shatters her into tiny pieces she’s afraid are too scattered for her to ever become whole again.

“Then let me show you the way out.” he begs. His hand finds her cheek, his thumb strokes her cheekbone… She can’t remember the last time he touched her like this. They’ve been so careful not to push since the second Culling… The thing between them feels so fragile they’re afraid to break it for good. “I love you.”

“I know.” she answers because she does. Because she wants it to be enough but she’s not sure it can be.

“Then it’s a step in the right direction.” he chuckles but it’s not amused, it’s not even cheerful, it’s… Sad. Everything is sad. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.” she offers without hesitation because there are none in her heart. She covers his hand with hers, presses it a little more against her cheek… “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m just…”

It has been a lot. There hasn’t really been time to come to terms with the City of Light before she has been forced to turn into a Mountain Man and that, that wasn’t her. That person. The things she has done. It isn’t her. Not who she wants to be, not who she used to be. Emori’s screams haunt her in her sleep. John’s accusations. The face of the Grounder she killed. The people she sentenced to death when she opened the bunker’s door and for what? Because Marcus was on the other side of it. It comes down to that in the end. Not because it was the right thing to do – he can tell her that as many times as he pleases, she knows better – but because they had locked him out. And Clarke. Clarke most of them all. Clarke who is lost to her now when she could have kept her with her safe and sound if only she hadn’t opened those doors.

She exchanged her lover for her daughter and now she has to live with it.

And she doesn’t know if she can because it poisons everything they have.

Her guilt.  

“I know.” he whispers.

And he does.

Ultimately, he’s the one who has closed those doors for the final time.

If anyone understands, she supposes it would be him.

“Do you think Clarke is alright?” she asks, frantic like she always is when she thinks about her daughter.

She doesn’t ask if he thinks they made it to space. They never allow themselves to doubt that. Not him. Not her. Not Octavia. If they consider it, it will kill them. She may have lost hope about everything else but she refuses to abandon this one. Clarke must have made it. Clarke must have survived.

But when she thinks about her baby – no matter her age her daughter will always be her baby – once more trapped in the cold of space… She wonders if being trapped is made easier or worse by the fact the box is familiar. She wonders if she would have felt better back on the Ark instead of down there. She wonders if Raven found ways to make the Ring more homey.

She doesn’t wonder if there are seven corpses floating in a dead metal shell.

“She’s Clarke.” he snorts with fondness, his hand trailing up to brush her loose hair back. “She’s your daughter. As long as she has people depending on her she won’t let herself fail so, yes, I believe she’s alright.”

There’s such certainty in his words that she lets herself relax.

It’s true, what he says. Their people need Abby and that’s what keeps her going in the morning. And Clarke is very much the same way. Abby has never been good at neglecting her responsibilities. She made an oath when she was elected to the Council and she has always tried to honor it: serve their people first and foremost. She still does.

“Five years is a long time.” she comments, yearning to hold her daughter again.

Five years without contact… They tried reaching out to the Ark but communications aren’t working. The theory is that the building collapsed on the bunker when the death wave hit, that it knocked down something… Jaha might be their chief engineer now but she misses Sinclair almost as much as she misses Raven.

“I bet you Raven will have figured out how to go home by year three.” Marcus teases, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “You will see her again. You need to have faith.”

It’s easier said than done.

Faith isn’t something she is very good at now.

Tables have turned, she supposes.

“I don’t want us to be like this.” she confesses in a whisper, closing her eyes even as she brushes a hand up his arm and to his nape. “Pretending everything is fine just because…” Just because what? It would be too hard to lose him? She doesn’t want to lose him. She wants to go back to that place in Polis when it was new and easy. They’ve been robbed of the new and easy to be tossed right into domestic and difficult. “I need you, Marcus. I don’t want this to die but we can’t go on like this either…”

She can’t remember the last time he kissed her.

She thinks it was right after the death wave, when they were fighting. There were pecks after that but nothing real, nothing that has woken up the ache in her belly.

They’re walking on eggshells and it’s time they break some eggs.

“You’re angry with me, Abby.” he sighs. “You blame me for saving you.”

“Yes.” she confirms, unwilling to lie. “But instead of giving me space, you should remind me why it’s a good thing.”

“I’ve been trying.” he argues.

She tangles her fingers in his hair, brushes her lips against his. “Have you?”

His whole body tenses as he gulps in a shuddering breath. The hand that was still in her hair is propped behind her head as he rolls a little more fully over her.

“You’re angry.” he insists. “I didn’t want to push.”

Sometimes, it’s painfully obvious that he never had any serious relationship. Callie came close, she figures, but it was nothing like a real partnership, nothing like what she used to share with Jake, nothing like what they have. He doesn’t know the rules, doesn’t know the tricks to make it work, doesn’t know there are times in a marriage when boundaries have to be tested.

“In situations like this, you have to push.” she counters. “I’m pretty stubborn, remember?”

He chuckles and, this time, it is definitely amused. The kiss he presses against her lips is hard and she responds to it immediately, hooking a leg around his thigh, encouraging him to completely lie on her. He’s still propped up on his elbows though and she tugs on his shirt to get him down only to think better of it and shove the fabric out of the way.

“You’re not just stubborn. You’re impossible.” he accuses, slipping the shirt over his head and tossing it away from the bed. His lips find her neck and she gasps quietly when she feels the familiar hitch of his beard on her skin. She missed this. She craved this. He nips the spot under her ear and she slips her hands inside his sweatpants in retaliation, gropes him. “I love it.” he murmurs in her ear and she thinks he’s talking about her being impossible but she’s not quite sure and she doesn’t quite care because she has more urgent preoccupations – like getting him naked and inside her. “I love you.”

Something in her melts at those words murmured into her neck with calm confidence, with certainty.

He’s right, she realizes.

It is a step in the right direction.

And, a while later, when she tosses her head back, blissful pleasure washing over everything, she thinks that maybe, she sees a distant dot of light in her darkness.

[galacticvampirisms]

I realized I can’t take Benadryl to go to sleep because I’ll sleep through my alarm! So this because there’s no one I can talk to.

Work has been hell again. For the past two or three weekends it has been. The only respite was the one Saturday where I did a school event and and got a $50 Visa gift card. I spent it all on art supplies basically immediately. But the Friday before and Sunday after were awful. The next weekend, I had a dog every day that’d been home-groomed for x amount of time. Longest was ??? The woman’s first language wasn’t English but Mandarin, and I couldn’t communicate effectively with her. But the dog was nigh impossible to safely groom without people staring at me like I was torturing the dog by holding her leg. My boss undermined by special handling fee by arguing through another manager that we should’ve warned her when she first came in about the fee. Guess what, new dog wtf. Okay, well we should’ve called her. Bitch barely understood me at check in, she didn’t understand that her dog was done when I called her, and she definitely would not understand why Princess was more expensive. Okay, well we should’ve done it so you’re out $7. And my coworker was all “oh she wasn’t that bad.” You. Weren’t. There. Bitch. And of course the woman still had a bitch fit about the cost. The manager without a brain that the store leader was speaking through removed the hand from his ass long enough to agree later that she was crazy. You think?

This weekend so far someone deleted my block today and I had a dachshund try to take my finger off while in the kennel. I refused to do it and warned the owner, who came back with my request dog’s family (all related), in tears as I was leaving. Nevermind Friday I was so emotionally fragile I spend most of the time crying, and then my boss, the puppetmaster idiot, told me and the bather to move all the tables and drawers to the back of the salon so the floors could be stripped and waxed overnight. The bather is kinda useless as anything but a receptionist (can’t cut nails ever, tried to pawn a puppy off on me, but she’s quitting to get trained by a mobile grooming company so that’s gonna end well lmao), and she had just hurt her back. The tables alone are like 80-110 lbs. I asked who was going to help me and when he laughed I got mad. Btw, they didn’t do shit to the floors in the salon so the entire venture was useless. If I’m still working when it happens again, I will refuse to move anything the first night because this is the third time that’s happened.

 I want to quit when my contract is up if I can find a job that A. let’s me work Friday-Sunday and earn the same amount I currently do if not more (am willing to work 10 hour shifts tho) B. Gives me the chance to become full time if grad school doesn’t work out the way I want it to and C. Doesn’t have dickass for a boss like my store leader. So I’m looking at a private grooming company, and I’m anxious because I called and they requested a resume and I don’t know how far back I should write my jobs because I’ve had too many.

One of the zines I’ve been working on has been having me screaming. In contrast, the other has been lovely. They pushed back pre-orders a bit because I told them I was too overwhelmed with finals and everything. But once I get the first zine’s final piece done I’m quitting and never looking back at their shit again or joining zines led by them.

I had my first HRT shot and nothing’s really different. I don’t think it helped that I lowkey have a cold or something with pollen going on so if anything happened to my voice at all it was masked by that (Wednesday I did have a very hoarse throat all of a sudden that went away so I’m uncertain?) I also accidentally sedated myself Tuesday and missed most of my classes. I keep saying it as a joke (dog groomer, sedated dogs, also I’m an idiot with medicine) but it actually put a lot of extra stress on me with school and I’ve been even more vulnerable about shit because of it. I feel like I’m going to fail my classes even though I have 2/4 projects done and some of the extra prints I’m doing are bonus, while the paintings aren’t due until Thursday. 

I had a nightmare about school. And about this guy I like(d). He’s dating. The emotionless cyborg is dating, and he’s too busy to do things like DnD (why did I ever get my hopes up that it’d actually happen). And I’m still alone. With a stupid crush and stupid nightmares and stupid him bought stupid tickets to the thing stupid me introduced him to. Everyone is dating and fucking and together and I’m going to be alone. Forever. It feels like it will be that way at least.

I feel like the villain with my best friend. He’s upset that I’m burnt out on a particular muse and apparently in my Benadryl-induced stupor when he said one of the words I hate (it’d never come up before so it’s not like he did it on purpose), I had an extremely averse reaction. He didn’t talk to me all the next day except to say I was being over-dramatic, which really pissed me off. Apparently he can’t be bothered to remember I care very much about words or that he has a mechanism in place to step away from a conversation and discuss it later, but he has to tell me the time he’ll come back. 

I was mostly settled after a long and emotional conversation where I kept crying as I admitted some of my more stupid insecurities. Shit like how even though I really, genuinely am happy that he has a fallback for his anxiety in tumblr that I still get tied up inside knowing he interacts with people who hated me. Partly drove me away from RP and has me convinced to never go back, even if I had the time. He talks about how D is talked about all the time on his roleplay account but I don’t see it ever. It’s always really bad habits D tried to break his muse of to make a more supportive family. 

He’s burnt out on me. He was upset that I was burnt out on Dwayne and felt rejected but how am I supposed to feel about the opposite? I try to play it like it’s just a joke to me or something, but it hurts. So badly. I wasn’t rejecting him; I tried all the different ways I could to keep going. But I used to get to rp in 3-4 different universes, with different characters, and that variety made it so I didn’t feel like I was dragging my feet through the same dirt all the time. 

That doesn’t make sense as a metaphor but it does to me.

It also hurts that I can’t find some way to rp that doesn’t depend on him. It’s not for lack of trying. I’ve gone to about 3-4 dramwidth groups (some he doesn’t know about because I had kinda gone in with a downer attitude if I’m honest). RP has always been an anxiety relief for me when it’s with someone I trust. But that’s just him now (thought the DnD group would be that but it’s never gonna happen is it). 

I can’t get anyone to talk to me at all, and I don’t have therapy until Monday, and if I wasn’t so tired and anxious about having 6 dogs tomorrow and moving everything back again (the tables too I’m sure if they actually keep their word about doing the floors in the salon), I’d be up and either overeating or doing something dumb to make myself hurt. But I’m already doing that anyway os.

[honouraarden]

flightless bird | os

The needle went into the skin of her back, though Honour couldn’t feel it. Once the man’s cold hand was removed from her shoulder, she leaned back on the pillows again. It had been two weeks since they released her from the hospital in the Capitol and that she went home. Each day, the doctor, who was from the Capitol, would walk over from an empty victor’s home to shoot Honour up with drugs that were supposed to speed up the healing progress. That didn’t stop the events in the middle of the night when she would wake up with phantom pains that caused her to scream and tremble in pain. Her mentor, Arryn, stayed at the house with her, losing sleep to make sure that Honour was okay—and to inject her with the morphine when the pains came. 

“Only a week or two more and we can start your therapy.” The doctor said as he unwrapped her bandages around her legs from where the flames ate at her skin.  They were just scars now, and she had opted out of getting scarring removed, the same with the burn marks from the meeting with the priests. “I’ll be able to walk?” Honour asked. Though he had been taking care of her for the past three weeks, being one of the doctors that tended to her while in the Capitol, she still didn’t trust him. No one would blame her if she admitted it aloud, though. “No, you’ll be able to stand, with crutches. Your legs are still a bit fragile and since you still can’t feel anything with them, we don’t want to risk you injuring your nerves or your bones any more than they already are.” Frustrated, Honour sighed. All she wanted to do was get out of the damn bed, out of the wheelchair and to be able to walk.

“Have you been seeing anymore visions?” He asked as he shined a light in her eyes. “No,” she answered, “Just vivid dreams.” “Follow the light with your eyes,” Once he finished writing stuff down in a booklet, he responded to what she said, “the vivid dreams could be the medication having some side effects or they could be some wearing off of the chemical from the arena.” He touched along her ribs, asking if there was any pain, which there was just some soreness. Again, he wrote in his booklet before closing it. “All done here.” The doctor gathered everything that he brought into his bag and left the house. 

It wasn’t long afterwards that Arryn came into the house. She assisted Honour in getting in the wheelchair. Rolling into the kitchen, Honour grabbed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter. “Go outside to smoke,” Arryn said as she was putting away some things. “Yeah, yeah.” Arryn would put the cigarettes away from Honour in the middle of the night, putting them in the kitchen knowing that she couldn’t get in the wheelchair without help. Not that had stopped her from trying once or twice—it just didn’t end well in her favor. Pushing the door open, she went onto the back porch. Occasionally, Arryn would join her outside. Though she only smoked when she came back from a short day trip to the Capitol. 

The Montclair’s stopped by often, Gus would even bring a book to read to her. It didn't bother her nor did she mind, usually, and let him read a book when she had been medicated shortly before . Yet their presence, Arjay had yet to come. She didn't even think to ask about where he was to the other Montclair's. Though, Honour still wanted to beat the shit out of him for kissing her before she left without any reason or explanation. She also wanted to drink and smoke with him again, like how it used to be. Honour tried to convince Arryn, mostly, to bring her to certain places that he could be, but due to the distance it wasn’t possible in the condition that she was in. 

Arryn joined her outside, sitting in an outside chair. “That Arjay kid still hasn’t come to see you has he?” Honour took a drag, looking at her mentor from the corner of her eye. “It’s weird that you’re dating your mentor.” This is how she usually handled that question with either Arryn, doctors or even Arryn’s old mentor, Velkan. “Honour.” “He’s like 10 years older than you, and he mentored you when you were a tribute. Just saying that’s a bit weird.” She heard Arryn sigh, causing a smirk to come to her face. “He’s 8 years older than me—“ “Still weird.” There was silence between the two for a while, Honour was just finishing up her first cigarette when her mentor spoke again, “Why do you change the subject when I ask about Arjay?” Honour turned her head, raising her eyebrows, “Why did you go to the Capitol for a day?” No answer. “Exactly, not something I want to talk about.”

They remained outside until the rain clouds coming in from the north, Honour had finished half of the pack of cigarettes before then. The rain caused her limbs to ache, so once she got back into the bed, Arryn gave her a small dosage of pain medication. The almost conversation was spinning around in her head constantly. Honour didn’t want to talk about Arjay to anyone. The entirety of Panem had already seen him the way that she had in the arena. So many rumors were whispered in the Capitol, of what they were or whatever. Honour couldn’t understand why on earth she saw him in the arena more than she saw Ryot. Also why did she feel more scared to see him all bloodied than her own blood, her own sister.