#stopped watching it a few months ago but then my therapist asked me if i had finished it

[ppulverse]

patrick and teresa are so pathetically in love atp homegirl really wanted him to protest against the idea of her moving to dc with marcus and felt lowkey disappointed that he actually supported the idea 💀 but it was so painfully obvious that he wasn't comfortable with that but he didn't wanna interfere with her decision bc although he doesn't want her to be away from him he just wants her to be happy and he knows marcus is treating her right and he's probably thinking "oh he's so much better for her than i could ever be" and 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 fuck this show i haven't cared this much about a ship in YEARS

[thesirencult]

PAC: HOW YOU'LL GET 💵 WEALTHY

PILE 1 🤎

The Hermit

My Pile 1 💕 welcome to your reading.

The path to wealth for you starts first and foremost through a much needed spiritual seclusion.

You will realize that money = energy through this path of learning how to listen to your inner voice.

You need to tune out other people, only for now. Others do not understand your ideas and can not help you.

After you come out of this period of self searching you will make a great mentor out of yourself and a guiding light. That means that the transformation you went through blessed you with wisdom to guide others, either to make money, lose weight, awaken, search for spiritual truth etc.

A simple 9 to 5 won't get you there.

Possible career paths, skills and talents you can leverage and ideas : any work that helps people transform, self development/coaching industry, therapist, spiritual worker, book writing, ability to listen to others, empathy

PILE 2 🤎

5 Of Wands

Dear Pile 2 ❤️,

Contrary to Pile 1 your path to wealth includes "climbing the ladder".

You are well equipped to start from the bottom of an organization and reach partner/C-Suite status.

You will probably get a prestigious degree as I can tell you are an overachiever. This reminds me of Suits. You will fight through and compete.

You have great arguing abilities (law?) and have the stamina to get to the top.

Now, apart from the above, the 5 Of Wands can show physicality. This is a sign for me that some of you need to watch your health and not run yourself down from all the work you do.

PILE 3 🤎

Knight Of Cups

You are passionate and romantic. Your soul is artistic and you want to create beauty in this world.

This is a singer and songwriter, a chef that creates beautiful dishes that drive people crazy. An amateur photographer who takes photos of hotels in beautiful destinations like a professional. Someone who wants to build a clothing brand.

You are multitalented and an eternal child. Stick to your arts and crafts and harness your beautiful energy and creator abilities and you'll be unstoppable.

P.S. Take the opportunities that come your way, it's never too early to meet with success, contrary to what others tell you. You'll never be fully prepared or ready. You may be a Projector.

PILE 4 🤎

9 Of Wands

Sweet Pile 4 🧁,

You have so many great ideas and the perfect foundation to make 💰. Your mindset is already more than halfway there and you have great abilities.

You need to work on romanticising struggle. It doesn't have to be as hard as you make it. Don't take the stairs if there is an escalator. You don't have to prove anything to anyone.

If right now things are slow, remember how far you've come. Even if it is not visible in the physical, the past few years you've accumulated a wealth of knowledge and are ready to take the next step.

Trust in yourself and the Universe. Preserve, defend your position and work both hard and smart.

A few months ago I stumbled across a video with a woman who was a business coach. She asked successful people "How did you make it?" and their answer was "I never stopped."

Never. Ever. Stop.

Source : The Siren Cult

[oracle-of-dream]

hi can you do a xiaojun x male reader smut?

I totally can, I've already been trying to write something for him so I'll put it here! It's gonna be in parts so hang tight <3

Never Really Alone

Minors DNI

Summary: A feeling, at the corner of your mind. Always with you–even when you know you're alone. Someone's watching you, following you, getting closer...

Warnings: Male Reader, Stalking, Thunderstorms, Psychological terror, Fear of darkness

Wordcount: 1.5k

As your eyes opened, dark circles under them, you felt it again. The same feeling you've been experiencing for the last few weeks. It feels like you're never truly alone–someone you can't see is always with you. At first, you believed it was just the feeling of settling into your new apartment. You moved in about a month ago, but the feeling followed you outside your apartment.

At Work. The Cafe. Walking down streets. Everywhere you went.

It was to the point that you couldn't stop looking over your shoulder, even in broad daylight. You'd bought a taser, keeping it with you always even when you went to bed. The extra security still never was enough to make you feel safe enough.

You didn't have anyone to talk to about it. You'd just moved because you started a new job, if you told any of your coworkers they'd think you're crazy. Calling your parents was out of the question, they'd see it as a reason to bring you back home. You even thought about seeing a therapist. You could only text your friends from back home, they made you feel heard but couldn't do anything to help you. You were alone.

Work was the only time that you felt okay. You were surrounded by people who were at least semi-familiar, and it made you feel comfortable. But one night, after a long day of work, there was chatter about a get-together of all your coworkers.

"Y/n, you'll come, right?" Your team lead asked.

"No, I'm sorry, not tonight. I... have to look after my cousin tonight," You lied.

Your coworkers didn't press you for more as they left to enjoy each other's company, leaving you alone again. Almost alone. The feeling returned as you walked out of the work building, rushing to get home. The clouds were dark, thunder sounded in the distance, and rain was coming. You liked the rain, the soft sound of rain distracted you from feeling watched. It sometimes even made you smile, having something else to be focused on for a change.

As you got to your apartment, hustling up the stairs, a man stood outside your door. It was your landlord, Xiaojun. He was a thinner man, with black hair, always having a tired look in his eyes–like he never slept, draped in a black sweater you had always seen him in. He was standing outside your door, holding a bundle of mail.

"Hi, y/n," His voice was deep and soothing. "I noticed you hadn't picked up your mail in a while, so I wanted to drop it off."

"Thank you, that's so nice." You put on a smile as you took the mail from him.

"Have a good night, watch out for the storm. I've heard some people have had outages. Call me if anything happens," Xiaojun said as he walked down the hallway before descending the stairs.

You entered your apartment and closed the door, sighing in relief. Xiaojun was a nice man, and you felt safe around him. He offered your apartment to you at a discounted rate, after mentioning how expensive all the others were. He always went out of his way to make you feel comfortable. He also looked pretty handsome when he wasn't super tired.

You put the mail on the counter and then realized–the feeling was gone. You didn't feel like you were being watched... The urge to break down and cry was too powerful as you sobbed silently. Your chest had a weight lifted off of it. But your celebration was short-lived. As soon as you started changing out of your work clothes, you felt a sharp coldness run up your back. It was back. Now you wanted to cry for different reasons.

You took your taser out of your bag and took it with you as you swept through your apartment, just like every day, checking your home. But, just like always, you never found anyone.

You returned to your mail and started to sort it right as your lights went out. Xiaojun mentioned power outages so this is probably it. The storm must've knocked it right out. You stumbled through the darkness that invited itself into your home until you found your phone–Xiaojun asked you to call him if anything happened so he must have a way to fix it...

The phone rang as you waited for him to pick up, the sound of the rain getting louder and less friendly.

"Hello?" Xiaojun's voice came out of your phone.

"Hi Xiaojun, it's y/n, we just spoke?"

"Of course, I know who you are, silly. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, you told me to call if my power went out. Is there anything you can do about this?"

Xiaojun was silent for a moment. "I can get a flashlight, and bring it to you if you don't have one. I'll also check your power box, in your laundry room, to see if the circuit tripped."

"I'd appreciate it." You hung up the phone and waited by the door for Xiaojun to arrive. You opened it cautiously as you heard the knock, your camera for the front door was also not working so you couldn't see who it was unless you opened it. A flashing beam of light hit your eyes as they tried to adjust.

"Sorry about that, y/n. I didn't mean to shine you like that." Xiaojun's voice rumbled dryly. You blinked a few times, waiting for the dazzling sensation to fade.

"It's alright, come in," You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes. You felt Xiaojun's arms hold you as he shifted past you, pushing the door with his broad shoulder. You shut the door and followed him as he navigated your apartment, using the flashlight to light the way.

"You live here alone, right?" Xiaojun asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, that's right."

"What about your parents?"

"They're far away... I moved out here for a job opportunity, but I'm still trying to see if it was all worth it." You shivered, "What about you?"

"My father passed away, leaving the building for me to rent out."

Xiaojun got to the breaker box and opened it. "Hold this for me?" He handed you the flashlight so he could use both hands to work. You didn't know much about what was happening as he fiddled with wires. "Got a girlfriend?"

"Not really my type."

"Boyfriend?"

"No, I don't have anyone in my life like that..." You sighed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to–I was just wondering." Xiaojun tried to change the subject, "So how do you like the apartment?"

"It's nice. Cozy."

"Really? No issues, at all? You're the only tenant who doesn't complain about something in their apartment."

"Well..." You hesitated, thinking about the feeling. This was your chance to talk about it. For someone to finally understand. "There's been this... one thing."

"Oh?" Xiaojun said without looking at you.

Your jaw tightened. "I've been having a weird feeling since I moved in. Like I've been followed. It started in the apartment, then went outside. I only don't notice it when I'm at work..."

"That's strange. I haven't heard anything on the news or something. You should be careful, is there any other time you feel okay?"

You blushed at the answer, "Well, I don't feel it now."

"Now?"

"I think it's because you're here?"

"So I'm making you feel safe?" Xiaojun chuckled. "That's so cute. I'll keep you safe, anytime." Xiaojun smiled, trying to focus but couldn't stop thinking about you. He sucked his teeth in frustration. "I think I need to grab a tool, can you hold this in place? It's gotta stay like this for me to fix it." You nodded as Xiaojun guided your hand over his, pressing down on a bundle of wires. "Okay, I'll be right back, so stay put." Xiaojun hopped to his feet, taking the flashlight with him as he left you in the dark. The second you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, your chest started filling with anxiety. You felt incredibly vulnerable, and you'd left your taser in the kitchen–not wanting to scare your landlord with it. Your breathing got heavier, shadows danced in your vision, and your hands shook as they were glued to the wires.

Then you felt it. The feeling, creeping up your back, was the most intense you'd ever felt. You couldn't hear or see anything, but every hair on your body stood on end.

"W-who's there!?" You shouted into the darkness.

The darkness responded with nothing but dead silence.

You could run to the kitchen, grab your taser, and hide somewhere. But what if you attack Xiaojun by mistake? You needed something, anything. Your mind raced, but even in your panic, you could hear something. Someone breathing. They were excited, ready for you to fight back. You felt more helpless than before. You were doomed from the start. They stepped into the laundry room, finally making a singular footstep.

You stood, trying to see who it was, but only saw a shadow. There was sudden pain, and then darkness.

You were knocked out cold...

To continue, click here!

[missjomarch]

Josephine - Luke Hughes

A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.

Word Count: 3.7k 😳

Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.

(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)

Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 

The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 

He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 

“Luke.” 

His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 

“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 

Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 

With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 

“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 

“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 

“Fine, Jack.” 

“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 

Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 

“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 

He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 

“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 

His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 

“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 

“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.

“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 

“Luke.” 

Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 

“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 

Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 

Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 

Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 

“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 

“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 

“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 

“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.

“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 

“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 

“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 

“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 

“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 

“How long have you been following behind me?” 

“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 

“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 

“What’d I miss?” 

“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 

“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 

“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 

“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 

You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 

“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 

You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 

“Lukey!”

John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 

“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 

“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 

When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 

Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 

“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 

“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 

Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 

Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 

Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 

“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 

Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 

“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 

“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       

Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.

“Alright. Night, Luke.” 

“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 

“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 

It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 

“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 

 “Someone hit me.” 

Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 

“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              

This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 

“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 

“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 

“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”

Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 

“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 

“For what, love?” 

“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 

“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 

Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 

“Mhmm. Lukey?” 

“Yeah, baby?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 

Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 

“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 

Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 

“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 

“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 

Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 

“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 

“Luke.” 

Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 

“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 

Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 

“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 

Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 

“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 

“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 

Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 

“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 

“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 

A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 

Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 

“Even Secretariat.” 

So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Naughty or nice? | Ethan Landry x Reader

Advent calendar day five: Friendsmas + gift giving

Summary: The whole group gathers at Sam and Tara's for Friendsmas. Left to yourself in the living room, you and Ethan

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The night before everyone went home for the holidays, you all gathered at Sam and Tara’s apartment for a Friendsmas dinner. The place was lightly decorated in the spirits with only a small Christmas tree and twinkling lights you and Tara hung up a few weeks ago. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. 

‘’These gingerbread cookies are hilarious,’’ Sam complimented when she saw everyone’s caricature portraits in the box. 

Some had been more of a challenge to make than others, but you managed to make them all somewhat ressemblant to each of your friends. You even made Tara’s a tiny bit smaller than the others. 

‘’You even made Chad’s big head accurate,’’ Mindy pointed out, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she bit the arm of her cookie. 

Chad scowled at her as he attempted to take a bite, only to have the head break off and tumble to the floor, making Mindy burst into laughter.

‘’Even the cookie-you can’t keep it on its shoulder!’’ 

In true sibling behavior, Chad flipped his sister off. 

Having dealt with them since they were kids, Sam chose to leave them to their bickering and returned to her cooking. The water was boiling anyway. 

She searched the counter for the box of pastas, only to realize that she forgot to stop at the store after her appointment with her therapist this morning. ‘’Ugh, I forgot to get macaroni for the mac’n’cheese… Can someone go to the bodega down the street, they should have some pastas? Any will do.’’ 

Tara, eager to escape vegetable-cutting duty, volunteered. ‘’I can go!’’  

‘’I’ll go with you!’’ Chad said, going after her. ‘’The streets are icy, I wouldn’t want you to fall and get hurt or something.’’

You and Mindy shared a look once he was out of sight, knowing that it was cheap just an excuse to be alone with Tara. Hopefully he’ll stop chickening and finally make a move on her. 

Leaving Sam with Mindy to finish dinner, you joined Ethan who was sitting alone in the living room. He was watching something on his phone, his attention absorbed by the tiny screen, and didn’t hear you coming. 

‘’What are you watching?’’ you asked over his shoulder, a playful smile on your face.

He jumped, his heart hammering in his chest. ‘’Shit, you scared me.’’ 

You giggled as you walked around the couch and sat beside him. ‘’What are you watching,’’ you repeated.

Ethan shrugged, turning off his phone. ‘’Nothing. Just dumb things on youtube.’’

You hummed, taking a candy cane from the bowl on the table and trapped it between your red-coated lips. The sweet peppermint aroma filled the air as you leaned slightly closer to Ethan. ‘’So…have you been naughty or nice this year?’’  

Ethan choked on air. His eyes flicked away from your mouth, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. ‘’W-what?’’ he stammered, the unexpected question taking him by surprise.

You chuckled, removing the candy cane from your lips. ‘’Just curious, you know? Santa's making his list and checking it twice.’’ 

Still flustered, the boy managed a nervous laugh. ‘’I guess I’ve been mostly nice? We volunteered together at the cat shelter last month and I helped you for your art project, does that gives me brownie points?’’ 

‘’You’re cute.’’ You leaned in and ghosted your hand up Ethan’s arm, wishing there wasn’t a sweater covering his bicep. ‘’Since you’ve been so nice, should I give you your Christmas present now?’’ 

An immediate panic struck his face. ‘’Christmas present?! I didn’t know— I’ve got nothing to give you…’’ 

You shushed him with a finger over his lips and, with your other hand, you pulled aside the left side of your wrapped sweater, flashing him your matching red lace bra. The article was very sheer and left nothing to the imagination, which made Ethan’s eyes go wide.

‘’Holy shit.’’

Just then, the door creaked open as Tara and Chad returned, snow covering their shoulders and heads. Snapping out of your bubble, you quickly covered up and loudly greeted the two. Tara gave you a strange look, her cheeks red from the cold, then hopped over to the couch to tackle you with her cold self.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess

[isaut]

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓— f!reader x captain rex. 2.7k. ao3.

you and rex have both been through a divorce... just not with each other. your youngest daughter and his youngest son are best friends. he coaches their little league team. you have a conversation at the beach house you're at. (also, it's 2003). pls enjoy!!! this au has given me such brain rot. it's fun

It feels almost surreal, sitting on the couch with your knees tucked up under you and a glass of wine in your hands, being involved in a light conversation with other adults that isn’t small talk. You listen happily, interjecting every once in a while. The beach house is a nice one, with plenty of rooms to sleep in. You’d been invited at the end of a night on the town with Rex, where he’d driven you home because you weren’t allowed to drive when they went out, always claiming that parking was a mess. And while you had only been invited because Rex’s eldest was spending the summer at an internship, he’d been earnest about wanting you there. 

They aren’t quite your friends, not yet. Though you hear your mother’s voice telling you that they wouldn’t have invited you if they didn’t consider you a friend. And anyways, you know Echo from your youngest’s baseball practice. You know the rest of them from those nights on the town, from those barbecues Rex has. 

Rex is saying something, and you turn your gaze to the other end of the couch to listen. These are Rex’s friends, but the two of you are the only unmarried ones, the only single ones, and it’s regulated you both to the same couch again. 

Not that you mind. 

Rex laughs, eyes crinkling on the sides and thumb smoothing over the edge of the throw pillow in his lap. Then Fives interjects, and you like Fives, you like the way he raises his daughters and his wife is kind yet also shouldered with the same burden you carry of being the not-fun parent. You hate the fact his grown out hair mimics the floppy nature of your ex husband’s. 

Speak of the devil. Your phone rings, jostling you out of your thoughts. Reaching forwards, you check the caller ID. 

Your ex-husband’s name flashes across the screen. Your heart drops in your chest as you do the math. 10am in Tokyo. 

“I have to take this, sorry,” you say, leaving your wine glass on the coffee table and standing. Every horrible situation flashes through your mind. Something has happened to one of your daughters, they’ve gotten lost in the city, they’re sick, they’ve broken a bone. 

You answer the phone with a worried, “Hello?” as you open the sliding door and step outside into the cool night air, crisp from the salt water of the ocean. 

Your ex husband says your name gently. “How are you?” 

The minutes are racking up. “I’m fine. How are you? How are the girls?” You care about one more than the other. 

“I’m well, thank you for asking. The girls are alright. We’ve been keeping busy. I’m calling about Rosamond.” 

Your heart stops at the mention of your youngest, newly-six year old daughter. “Is she alright?” 

“Who’s the Tooth Man?” 

You sigh, sitting down on the bench. Maybe you should have brought your beverage. “He’s sleep paralysis. He stands in Rosamond’s room and watches her, sometimes threatening to eat her. He’s got a lot of teeth.” 

Your ex hums in interest. “I would have shared this information with you.” 

“I’m sure it’s come up and you just weren’t listening.” 

“I always listen when you speak, darling.” 

“I told you not to call me that anymore.” 

“Ah. Of course. My apologies.” There’s a pause. “Is this what she’s in therapy for?” 

You take a deep breath. “Yes.” You don’t mention the fact she’s been in therapy since you moved to the States a few months ago, that all of the girls have been in therapy. You don’t mention that the therapist thinks the Tooth Man is a manifestation of Rosamond’s fear of leaving home. 

“I see. Well, she’s been asking all morning to talk with you. Is now a good time?” 

Your heart skips in your chest. There’s a feeling of relief bubbling up in you, eyes becoming watery. “Absolutely.” 

“Just one moment.” He speaks Japanese off to the side, calling for Rosamond. In a few moments, there’s rustling, then:

“Maman?” 

Your smile is watery. “Coucou, chouchou. How are you?” 

“Good. I miss you,” Rosamond says earnestly. 

You swallow thickly. “I miss you too. What have you been up to?” 

“So many things! We went to the zoo and the aquarium and have been doing so much walking. I got new Pokémon cards!” Rosamond details the cards for you, talking about their holographic edges and rare beasts. Suddenly, you don’t care about the minutes anymore. 

“That sounds like so much fun,” you say, just as earnest. “Things here have been so boring without you.” 

Rosamond giggles. “That’s not true! It’s summertime! You can’t be bored during the summer! You have to find something to do!” 

Good parenting comes back and hits you like a truck. 

“You’re right,” you say. “What should I do?” 

Rosamond hums as she thinks, just like her father. “Maybe you can play with my toys! I bet my Littlest Pet Shops want to see you.” 

“That’s a good idea. I’ll make sure to give them some love.” 

“I brought Lady and Dressy with me, though,” Rosamond continues. “So you won’t find them.” 

“Are they also having fun with you?” 

You can hear Rosamond nod through the phone. “Papa bought me a purse to put them in.” 

“What else do you keep in there?” You know Rosamond loves bags, loves putting things in bags. Loves carrying your lip products around in her little one when you go out. 

With her gone, it feels quite strange that your lip balms and glosses and sticks are all in your own purse. 

“Uh… lip balm and some yen,” Rosamond says. “Because I’m a little lady and need to be prepared!” 

You smile softly. Little lady is not your doing, it’s her baseball coach’s doing. Rex’s doing. 

“I bet you are the most prepared lady out there,” you say. 

There’s Kuroro’s voice on the other end. Rosamond responds to him in Japanese with an, “Okay, papa,” before returning to the call. She continues to speak in Japanese. “Papa says it’s time to go.”

You return the language. “Okay, chouchou. I’ll talk to you later. Take lots of pictures for me.” 

“I will!” Rosamond promises. “Bye bye, mama!” 

“Bye bye, Rosa. I love you.” 

Rosamond returns her love and includes a big kiss before the phone is passed back to her father. You let out an exhale. 

“How are Dorothea and Celia?” You ask, inquiring after the twin nine year olds. 

“They’re doing great,” your ex replies. “They’re happy to be doing all the things they used to do.” 

“That’s good.” 

There’s a moment of pause on the phone. 

“Perhaps for their winter break you should come here instead of me coming there,” he suggests. “I think the girls might prefer that.” 

“We can talk about it later,” you say. “Can I talk to Dorothea and Celia?” 

“They’re with a friend,” he says. You feel tears start to well up. 

“I’d love to talk to them, when they come back.” 

There’s an interested hum through the receiver. “Would you?” 

Everytime you’ve told him the girls couldn’t talk because they were with a friend flashes through your mind. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

“I’ll let them know. Take care.” He finishes with your name, and you barely have a chance to say goodbye before the line goes dead.  

You should head back inside now. Instead, your waterline grows heavy. With a shaky exhale, you blink rapidly. Press your fingers against your closed eyes, willing the tears to go away. 

Instead, they begin to slip out. 

You suppose the healthiest thing is to let them slip. Better now than when you’re inside around everyone, moved by the white wine in your cup. 

The only problem is that once they start, they don’t stop. Your sleeve wets more and more with every pass as you wipe under your eyes. 

“What a fucking asshole,” you whisper under breath, speaking about your ex. 

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, you try to calm yourself back down. Your face feels warm from crying, a little puffy too. Part of you wishes you were still in your bathing suit— Swimming at night is dangerous but a quick dip would shock your body back to normalcy you think. 

The door behind you slides open, with it chatter follows, then it closes off as the door itself is shut. 

“Hey,” Rex’s drawl is smooth against the warm night. “Everything okay?” 

You nod, but don’t turn to look at him. The lights from the house will shine upon your face. “Yeah, ‘m fine.” 

“Brought you something,” he says, coming around and offering you a refilled glass of wine. Gratefully, you accept it. “You sure everything’s okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, unaware of how watery your face is. You take a sip of your wine. “Just miss my kids.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rex says. He is, he truly is. “It’s rough.” It is. Truthfully, he can’t imagine going so long without seeing his own. When he had first heard about your custody agreement, he’d felt bad for the father. Only seeing his kids for twelve weeks seems brutal. Then, he figured that it was only twelve weeks for a reason. 

You nod. 

“Want some company?” 

No. But you’ll take Rex’s. You shift over on the gliding bench you’re sitting on. Rex takes a seat, beer bottle resting on his knee. He rocks the bench once before stilling. 

It’s quiet. The stars are brighter here than they are in the city, but still drowned out. The ocean crashes just beyond, in the inky darkness of night. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rex asks. 

You sigh. There’s a knot in your throat. “I don’t know what I’d say.” 

“That’s okay,” Rex says. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “We should go back inside.” 

“We don’t have to,” Rex says. 

You’re too much of a mess to go back in. You take a sip of wine. 

“But they get it,” Rex says. “They watched me go through mine.” 

His divorce. You’ve never breached this topic with him. Instead, the two of you have always danced around it. 

You’re quiet for a moment. Take another sip. “I thought I’d be glad for a break. It was nice the first two days. But now…” another sip. “They should be here, y’know?” Here, with their friends, who were all sound asleep in their twin beds and bunks.

“Yeah,” Rex murmurs. “But I’m sure they’re having loads of fun in Tokyo.” 

You sniffle and swallow heavily. “Yeah, they are. I just… I wish it had worked out.” 

Rex nods. “Yeah. But everything happens for a reason, right?” 

“I suppose so.” 

“You don’t seem convinced.” 

Even your laugh is watery. “I’m not.”

“I think one day it’ll click,” Rex says. “Something’ll happen and you’ll realize everything’s how it’s meant to be.” 

You suppose it’s already turning out that way for you. There’s no more constant gaslighting, no more unwanted touches, no more manipulation. It’s almost suffocating how much you can breathe now. 

“Yeah. I think I just miss them.” 

“I’m sure they miss you,” Rex says. 

“I don’t know if they do,” you admit, voice cracking. Tears begin to well up. 

“Oh, Ophie,” Rex says, “I know they do. You’re their mom. You’re there for them everyday.” 

“I know,” you mumble. “But…” 

“But nothing,” Rex says. “Those girls adore you. My kids adore you. All of their kids do too. You’re just at the shortest stick of the draw right now. But you’ll be back to being the luckiest in just a few weeks.” 

A tear slips from your eye and you’re quick to wipe it away. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

You shake your head. “It’s just– I just– It’s very unbecoming of me.” Your laugh is watery, and you wipe at your eyes again. 

Rex balks at you. “You think crying about missing your kids is unbecoming?” 

You sniffle. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m crying.” 

Rex wants to take your face in his hands, wipe away your tears and tell you that you’re experiencing one of the purest emotions in the world. That it would be weird if you weren’t crying. 

Instead, you take a sip of your wine, then pass the glass off to Rex. “I think I need to drink some water.” 

“You don’t need to blame your emotions on the alcohol,” Rex says, but takes the glass anyways. “Really.” 

A shaky sigh escapes you. Rex’s brows furrow. His voice is soft. “Want me to get you some water?” 

“No, that’s embarrassing.” You sniffle again. “I’ll be okay in a few minutes.” 

“Do you want to tell me how the girls are doing?” Rex asks. 

You don’t have any good news to report. “I don’t know. I’ll have to wait for him to send me the stupid email.” 

Rex furrows his brow. “What was he calling about, then?” 

“Oh.” You let out an exasperated sound. “Rosamond is having those nightmares still.” 

Those nightmares still. Rex knows about them– One day after practice, on a gentle Saturday in April, Rex had come up to you. His normal compliment about how well Rosamond is doing, how much she’s improving, had followed up with a: “She’s been really tired these past few practices. Is everything okay?” And you’d given him a flippant: “She’s having nightmares.” Then, you’d detailed them in brief: “There’s a man who has lots of teeth who threatens to take her away and eat her. We’re working on it. Practice is the highlight of her week, though.” 

“Really?” 

You nod. “So I’m a bad mother because of it.” Before Rex can interject, you speak, “He didn’t say that. But I felt it in his tone.” 

“Are you going to let him ruin your night?” Rex asks. 

That gives you pause. 

“What?”

The advice Rex has had has been given to him– One night Rex had gotten up from the Dungeons and Dragons table to answer a phone call from his ex when they were freshly divorced, and come back in shambles. This wasn’t the first time. Nor the fifth. Fives had placed his hand on Rex’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes: “You going to let her ruin your night?” 

If they were still in the military, Fives would have called her a bitch. But he has daughters now. 

“Are you going to let him ruin your night?” Rex repeats. “You can’t.” 

Rex has met your ex, met him at an end of season baseball party. He was in town to fly back to Tokyo with his daughters, and wanted to come experience everything. And Rex gets it– he was smooth and suave, shaking hands and proudly introducing himself as Rosamond’s father. Charismatic’s definition. Rex only exchanged a few sentences with him. 

He can’t imagine the phone calls you must have with him. Can’t even fathom the fights. He knows, from brief discussion, you’d been trying to divorce him for years before he agreed. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. Reaching over, you take the wine glass back. “You’re so right. Fuck him.” You take a long sip, then press the cold glass against your puffy eyebags. “Lord, he’s such a douche.” 

“He seems like a piece of work,” Rex admits. 

You chuckle dryly. “Yeah, he is. But then again, I guess I am too.” 

You are, but Rex doesn’t mind. He doesn’t look inside to confirm his next statement, instead focused on you and the parts illuminated by the house lights. “I think we’re going to play poker soon or something.” 

“Let me get myself together first,” you say. “I’m not very good at poker.” That’s a lie. 

“I’ll teach you,” Rex says, just as you hoped for. “You seem like you’ll pick up on it quickly.”

Inside, with a can of sparkling water instead of wine, you sit side by side with Rex at the coffee table. Everyone is on the floor around it, Fives is dealing cards out, and your knee almost touches Rex’s thigh. The fabric of both of your sweatpants dusts against each other. 

“We’ll play a practice round,” Fives says, handing everybody chips. 

Rex explains the amount of every chip to you, reaching over you to point at every stack. He looks at your cards, too, and advises you on when to bet and when to fold. Perhaps you lean a little too close to show him your cards, a little too close when you whisper to him for advice. 

But he’s happy to help. Anything to keep you from crying again. Anything to keep you close.

[kangals]

less than one month ago I brought Boone to the vet for his twice-yearly recheck with his physical therapist. he bounced into and out of the car eagerly, always excited to take a ride. the doctor asked me how much exercise he gets - he does well, I said, we go on a 30-40 minute walk every morning and he’s slow but he keeps up fine. he eats his meals and enjoys a romp in the yard. he has some stiffness in his spine, the beginnings of some minor nerve defects in his legs, but otherwise received good marks. “keep doing what you’re doing,” I was told.

today, he is dying.

he walks gingerly, his head held low and body stiff. his back legs tremble to support him for more than a few moments, collapsing back into his bed. just walking to the back of the yard leaves him exhausted. he sniffs half-heartedly at food, but refuses to eat. he does not play, or romp, or dig at his bed to make it comfortable or stretch his long back or watch dutifully out the window when the mailman comes. ive been ignoring the signs, trying desperately to believe this is not the end, that one morning everything will be better, but it’s so vibrantly, painfully clear. his eyes say, “I am tired. I hurt. I am done.”

it’s all happened too fast. his body hasn’t yet had time to reflect the malignancy that’s taking over his insides. his muscles are still toned, his coat is soft and silky. he’s barely lost any weight. a few still-healing scabs litter his legs - I can’t stop focusing on them. look, I think, his body is healing itself! a dying body can’t do that! then I see the glassy eyes and see him stare emotionlessly at his surroundings and know it’s too late.

when was the last time I took him for a long walk in the woods? the last time he ripped into his toy box and gleefully scattered them across the room? the last time he dug in his heels and raced around the yard, obeying a millennia of instincts to run, run, run? I don’t remember - I never expected to have them suddenly stop. I don’t remember these last expressions of health, of happiness. these should have been monumental, important moments. I took them for granted.

I wanted his last days to be peaceful - full of his favorite things. I’d spoil him with cheeseburgers and Chinese food, give him all the treats he wanted, take him to the beach and the woods to sniff to his hearts content.

but he won’t eat, and he can’t walk. all I can do is sit by him and try to let him know I’m still here. I wish I could do more.

looking at the box full of his prescriptions, the fridge stocked with dozens and dozens of different foods, I feel so despondent. they didn’t help. they couldn’t - nothing could. nature dictated that my dog will die, and that is where we are. i tried so, so hard to make him better, and i might as well not have tried at all.

in a way, this diagnosis is a horrible blessing. it allows no room for arguments - it’s done, it’s over, this is the final entry to his life. even with the most aggressive treatment and the luck of a good response, it would buy us less than two months time. I know that’s not an option. I know he is too tired, and ready to go. he’s done - has been for weeks, even if I wanted to believe otherwise.

I know so, so many people with dogs they loved just as much and more, who did not get as much time together as we did. who didn’t get this chance to say goodbye. we had almost 9 years together, with so many wonderful memories.

but still, I don’t think it will ever be enough.

[avengersfantasies]

Series Summary: When you were little, your life was changed forever. Your parents were brutally murdered before you, and the doctors said it was a miracle that you survived. Now, almost 22 years later, you come across the man who took everything from you.

Chapter Summary: Your therapist thinks she knows the perfect person to help you move past your trauma.

What to expect: therapy, trauma, ptsd, angst?

taglist: @felicitylemon @lostinth3echo

Series masterlist: Here

You sat on the large couch across from the therapist that you were being forced to see. The silence filled the room as you stared off toward her direction, tuning out everything she was saying. 

“Sergeant,” her voice faded back in, causing you to blink and shake your head.

“Sorry, what?” you asked flatly. 

She scribbled down a note, and you rolled your eyes. “I asked if you have had any nightmares recently.”

6 Months Ago

“We have to go!” Corporal Jordanson called out through the sound of heavy explosions. 

You yelled back. “Not until we get what we came for!”

“Jordanson’s right!” Corporal Lansing backed his fellow soldier up. “We need to go before it’s too late.”

This was your first time leading a mission, and the last thing you wanted was to fail it. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Lansing,” you hissed, determined to complete the job. “We aren’t going until we find it!”

Reluctantly, the group of four soldiers that you led followed your orders as you made your way into the collapsing structure. You were sure you’d be out before it was too late. All you would do is grab what you were sent for and evacuate. 

That was the plan, but plans don’t always go accordingly. 

Present Day

“Nope,” you lied with no emotion in your voice and exhausted from lack of sleep. “Nothing but sunshine and rainbows.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying,” the doctor reminded you, not buying your claim for one second.

She scribbled down a few more notes. “You know…there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she announced almost hesitantly. “You remind me of him. I think you two would relate to each other…understand one another.”

You rolled your eyes. “This should be good.”

“Come back here at 5,” the doctor said. “I’ll arrange to have the two of you meet.”

Once you were back at your apartment, you lazed around for the next few hours - making yourself lunch and watching television. 

You felt yourself beginning to zone out - the well-known thousand-yard stare encompassing you. Your mind knew that thinking about the trauma in your life would bring you pain, so whenever you were reminded of your parents or your time in the military, you often became detached from any emotions tied to them. 

It had become a self-preservation technique. 

Snapping you out of your daze was the alarm you set on your phone. The time read 4:30, so you had 30 minutes to get to your therapist’s office to meet whoever she wanted you to meet. The only reason you had agreed to it in the first place was because you were genuinely curious as to who else could possibly relate to your past. You pulled yourself off the sofa and headed out, walking the few blocks to the office. You arrived a few minutes early, but you went ahead and knocked on her office door anyway.

“Dr. Raynor?” you called out, opening the cracked door. “I’m –”

The sight in front of you had you stopping in your tracks. It was him. It was Bucky Barnes yet again.

“Come in,” she waved you over. You gently shut the door and walked over to where the two of them were sitting. Keeping your eyes on Bucky, you made sure to sit with a distance in between. “This is James Barnes,” she introduced him. “He was –”

“I know,” you interrupted, taking your eyes off Bucky and looking to Dr. Raynor with the same apathetic tone and emotionless eyes that had become your signature almost. “Who do you think is the face that haunts my nightmares?” Dr. Raynor looked down, and Bucky stayed silent. “Is this fun for you?” you snapped. “Were you this desperate to get me to show some sort of emotion that you dug this deep?”

“That’s not what this is abou–” she began to defend herself before being cut off by you.

“No,” you hissed, chuckling incredulously. “I don’t know what kind of game the two of you are playing, but I’m not interested.” 

Before Dr. Raynor could respond, you beelined it toward the door. 

“Wait, hang on,” Bucky called out, getting up and following you out and onto the street outside. “I didn’t know this was what she had planned!” You didn’t respond; instead, you shook your head and kept walking back toward your apartment. “Would you just listen for a second?!”

The entire walk back to your apartment was filled with Bucky calling out after you and you ignoring him completely. The sergeant was so determined to get you to believe and listen to him that he didn’t realize he had followed you all the way into your apartment. Finally, though, you stopped and turned to face him.

“What is so important that you had to follow me all the way into my apartment for?” you snapped. “Not done tryin’ to help Raynor stir up some emotions?”

“No,” Bucky exhaled, “I swear I had no idea that she was going to do that,” he explained. “She texted me and told me to come by at 5 because she had someone for me to meet that she thought I may be able to help.” 

Instead of arguing anymore, he pulled his phone out and showed you the text, letting you read over it. 

“You help me?” you scoffed. “Right.” 

You poured yourself a glass of whiskey, walked over to the couch, and sat down - sipping your glass of whiskey. Hesitantly, Bucky sat down beside you. 

“Look,” he began softly, watching as you started to let yourself zone out again and put the glass down on a small box that sat on the coffee table, “I did awful things to you…your family…and –”

“It wasn’t you,” you cut him off softly.

Bucky looked down and inhaled. “I don’t know what you’ve been through. I don’t know how you grew up. I don’t know what your life has been like. I don’t know what happened before you were discharged. I don’t know how, but I wanna do anything I can to help you.”

You let out a small chuckle, not being able to believe that this was the conversation you were having. Instead of answering, you reached for the glass again and took a sip. That’s when Bucky noticed it.

“What this?” he asked, reaching for the small box. 

“Purple heart,” you stated flatly.

“A purple…,” he trailed off, opening the box and looking at the medal. “And you’re using it as a coaster?”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what else to do with it.”

Bucky held the medal with care, awestruck at what you must have gone through during your time serving your country. 

“This is something to be treasured,” he said, concerned and confused as to why you were using it as a coaster.

“Not for me, it’s not,” you mumbled back, knowing full well that he heard you. Taking his silence as the opportunity to speak, you continued. “I was the only one that survived the mission I was leading,” you explained. “So, they gave me this little medal that only serves to make me remember every single goddamn day about how I was the one responsible for those four lives ending.”

Bucky looked down at the medal in his hand, stroking it gently. “It’s a reminder.”

[weezly14]

so i'm not going to respond to any individual asks - this is the blanket response to all the asks i've gotten in the past few weeks asking me when i'm going to update my WIPs, if i've abandoned them, etc. i appreciate the love, i do. i miss dust to dust, and something good and right and real, and i wanna be your boyfriend, too.

i might regret being this honest later, but fuck it, it's my blog and not enough people talk about this shit.

i'm struggling with infertility. emphasis on the struggle. i'm weepy from fertility meds, in the midst of my first treatment cycle, half hope and half fear. we're "unexplained infertility," so there's no reason why it shouldn't work, except it hasn't so far, so hope feels like a dangerous thing.

for anyone who hasn't experienced this, it's a complete and total mindfuck. i don't feel like the same person i was a year ago, before all those negative pregnancy tests. i thought i'd have a baby by now, or at least be pregnant. instead, i have a shitty not even diagnosis, and Options that are both a blessing but also invasive, and expensive, and in no way a guarantee. every month i calculate when the due date would be; think about the events we have planned for next year in terms of where i could be in a pregnancy; and every month, my period arrives right on schedule, if not a day early. i have yet to see a positive pregnancy test. it's "only" been a year, and i'm "so young," but it feels like it's been ages and like i'm running out of time.

we've been forced to have conversations about money, about how far we want to go with treatment, about when we might call it. "it's too early to think about that," you might say, but one cycle of ivf could cost $16k. we have good insurance, but are we willing to undergo more than one egg retrieval? how many failed transfers before we decide the emotional toll is too high? it's better to have those conversations now, before we have to, when we can maybe make clearer decisions. would we consider donor eggs or sperm? surrogacy? what about adoption?

meanwhile, i'm watching friends and acquaintances get pregnant with no problem, as i try not to completely isolate myself and try to track ovulation, as though timing might be the problem.

(it's not.)

i'm not the person i was before all of this, and it sucks. i'm a sadder, smaller person, i think. i'm trying my best. i'm "practicing hope" or some shit, i'm doing my best to keep my head up and stop isolating, stop avoiding my pregnant best friend, stop wallowing in the grief. because it is grief. if i get pregnant, it will be because of fertility meds and doctors, it will happen in a sterile exam room, hopefully with my husband holding my hand, if he can get the time off work. there will be no spontaneous pregnancy, no surprise. there's grief in that, in letting go of what i thought this might be like, how i thought it might go.

so yes, writing fic has fallen by the wayside. not because i want it to. i just have a hard time finding the energy to do even fun things. i miss the person who could write a lot in short spans of time, who had the energy for fic. i'd like to believe i can still be that person again. i don't consider any of those fics abandoned. i've written, i've worked on things.

but, right now, it feels like my entire life, my entire being, is consumed with this struggle to get pregnant. like my life is measured by where i am in my cycle. i look at my calendar and think, that's when i'll get my period or a positive test, so i should be mindful in what i plan. i might be very happy, or i might have a very bad day.

sometimes, the bad days feel eternal.

but i'm doing what i can. i'm trying, anyway. my therapist said i should practice hope, and i'm trying to. i'm trying to let myself believe things might work out. even though the fucking meds have made me weepy as hell, i'm trying to stay positive, and envision that this cycle could work. that on christmas day, instead of my period, i'll get a positive pregnancy test.

(because going home for christmas isn't loaded enough.)

there's an old wives tale that if you wrap a baby blanket and put it under the tree, you'll have a baby by next christmas. i'm jewish, but we're an interfaith household, so we bought a baby blanket, and we're going to wrap it in hanukkah paper, and put it under the tree. we have a hope basket in the nursery - because when we moved into this house we set aside a bedroom to be the nursery, and it's empty except for that little basket of baby things we've collected over the months, in the hopes that one day we'll have a baby to dress in the little onesies or socks. we have a running list of names. this is our version of practicing hope.

this is only our first treatment cycle. things could work. or maybe the next cycle. and then, there's always ivf. some days, i feel like it'll work for us, and we will have a baby, one way or another. other days, i wonder if i shouldn't just spare myself the pain and call it now. it's exhausting, infertility.

so, to everyone who misses my writing, and wonders when i'll update again - i don't know. i miss my writing, too. i miss being the person who wasn't so consumed by fertility shit, who could indulge in hobbies. i'd like to believe i can get back to that. but not this week.

the holidays are joyous but they're also really fucking hard, so let me be your friendly reminder not to ask people when they're having kids, or why they aren't pregnant yet, and to not tell people struggling with infertility to "just adopt" or "just relax."

happy holidays.

[alcazarofthestars]

Alright...there goes the request.

Request: Yandere Sirin with Cold, Distant Reader who's somehow aware about it and what would Sirin do to capture Reader's heart...

Hope this request suit you, thanks for reading.

Thank you for the request! This is a very interesting scenario and I had fun thinking of how it'll play out.

Summary: You know that your friend's sister has an unhealthy obsession towards you the signs are all there! If only you had followed your instincts, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you're in now...

Warning: Yandere content, picture taking without consent, stalking, cameras, kidnapping, Sirin has a breakdown, Bella becomes a therapist, Bella isn't getting paid enough to deal with Sirin, unhealthy obsession, bad writing and a few more that I probably forgot. (If any of those make you feel uncomfortable, please leave.)

The reader is gender neutral in this one, the reader is friends with Durandal, mentions the reader working as a valkyrie at Schicksal.

It was obvious....

The way she would follow me to my house and watch me from outside, how she takes pictures thinking I'm unaware, the cameras in my house, my belongings that had 'magically disappeared'. Well, some of those disappeared items were my fault, but still.

No matter what I do, I can't take the cameras off unless I want to ruin one of my only friendships with a friend...... Oh well, it's just a little crush. It'll be over in a while, right?

It's been months since she started to do this. Now, she is finally talking with me face to face. I can tell she's nervous, her body language proves it. But there was also an unfamiliar glint in her eyes...

"Uhm... H-hello. You must be [Name], right? My name is Sirin. I heard a lot about you from my sister, Durandal." She introduced herself. She starts off the conversation with a little small talk about her sister, the weather, and her likes and dislikes. Then she asks about my likes and dislikes, my favorite food, and some other stuff.

After talking for a while, she seemed to get more confident. As her body language and her way of speech proves it. "Really? That's impressive! Oh, I have to go... Say... Are you free on Saturday? If so let's hang out! How about [Restaurant name]?" After a few more conversations, she had invited me to hang out with her on Saturday. I thought about it for a while. Seeing how I have nothing to do on Saturday, I agreed. "Sure, see you then."

"I did it! I actually did it! Finally, after months of stalking. I built up the courage to talk to them and I'm going on a date with them. I think I might just faint..."

"Good job, Sirin-sama. I'm sure they'll fall for you." Bella said as she gives Sirin her phone. "Of course!" She replied happily.

Bella looked like she wanted to ask Sirin something, but refrained from doing so until Sirin stopped speaking. "Sirin-sama, I don't mean to judge but why are you so obsessed with a Schicksal Valkyrie?" She hesitantly asked. "Haven't you heard? They were also like us. But, they saved everyone in their lab. And they had managed to forgive the ones responsible." She answered. "There are only a handful of people who are willing to forgive those who have wronged them. I truly admire those people."

"Ah. I see, those people are truly admirable." Bella nodded as she said her response. "I wish you the best of luck on your endeavors, Sirin-sama."

"Hello, Sirin. Sorry if I'm late." [Name] waved as he came closer to their meeting point. "A-ah... Not at all! I've also just arrived a few minutes ago..." They talked as they entered the restaurant together. "How have you been?" [Name] asked. "O-oh, me? Well, I'm alright. What about you?"

"The usual. I have something to discuss with you later." They took their seats at a table in the corner. "Oh, alright." She nervously said as she starts to read the menu.

After ordering they continued to talk, mainly about their days and work. When the food arrived they shared some of their orders with each other. An elderly couple walked by and called them a 'young couple' and made Sirin feel embarrassed.

"Sirin, there's something I need to tell you." [Name] started and Sirin turned her head in their direction. "I know everything. I know you've been stalking me." They said making Sirin shocked. "H-how... But I-I..." She muttered. "Please stop. I'm not really interested in having any romantic relationships. That's all. Goodbye, Sirin." They said while standing from the table and started walking out of the restaurant after paying, leaving Sirin by herself.

Surprisingly, Sirin was rather calm from the event that just happened... She paid for her meal and walked back to her house. Once she entered her room she opened her phone and called Bella.

When Bella picked up, Sirin started to sob. "I-I can't believe this happened... W-what did I do wrong...!? I d-did everything right... So why..." She cried much to Bella's surprise. "H-hey, calm down a bit. Tell me what happened."

"Th-they knew everything..." She started. "Why...? Why? Why? Why?..... WHY?! D-did I do something wrong...? Tell me!"

"Calm down, please Sirin-sama. Why don't you just kidnap them? It'll make things easier." Bell suggested. ".... B-but... will I still be able to make them love me back....?" She asked in between her sobs. "We'll see."

It's been quiet.... too quiet... Sirin hasn't done anything for a while now. Maybe it worked and she fell out of love. But I still can't help but to be paranoid.

I walked back to my house, but I feel like something bad is going to happen. I turned a corner but was pulled back by an unknown force and felt a syringe hit my neck. My vision was slowly getting darker and darker, but I managed to see Sirin...

It was obvious...

She knows my daily routine... The places I frequent... Why didn't I see it before?

When I woke up I was in a darkroom... Whenever I moved I was restricted by chains at my ankles and wrists. The door then opened revealing Sirin. Happily standing there with a smile on her face. "Ah~ I finally have you all to myself... At last. We'll be together forever~."

Extra HCs:

Sirin would try to secretly court the reader and whenever they ignore her advances she'll get super frustrated and rant to Bella.

She has two dolls that looked like her and the reader that were made by herself and named after both herself and the reader.

Probably plays with the dolls by making them get married, go on dates, and cheesy scenarios.

-----------------------

Sorry if it wasn't what you were expecting, and I'm sorry if my English is off I made this in a rush.... English also isn't my mother tongue so I have trouble writing from time to time. Once again, thanks for the request! I'm probably going to rewrite this in the future... But who knows.

[elytrafemme]

i think i'm going to take a break from tumblr. (that's the TLDR, the rest of the post is long ramblings) i know that's shitty, because God knows I never check discord (not nearly as much as i should, but there's just so much) and barely reply to ao3 comments and so the least i could do is just exist here. but being on here makes the anger and grief i've been feeling for the last few weeks amplify. i can't exactly place it (well, i can place some of it, but that's neither here nor there), but i think while online activism in a place truly as online and disconnected as tumblr can be meaningful, it's so much more important to me right now to be fighting the battle in the world around me. and to find that community. because obviously i love you guys but when i feel like i'm about to spiral into a horrible place, i have to find company in the form of someone physically with me (maybe my therapist was right about me having someone on standby in this city huh). and when i see people with the most horrific understandings of what is happening in the world, to my siblings across the water, it's easier to contest that and stomach it when it's around me here than online. because at least i can do something about one of those things. what's happening in Gaza (and i admit I need to educate myself more about what's occurring in Armenia & Sudan) contains a pain that i only know a sliver of, being a second generation Iraqi Muslim across the Atlantic. but the pain is still visceral, and i've never felt this disappointed in myself in my entire life every fucking second. i'm on the edge of a relapse into something i thought i got over two years ago, and i can barely exist with myself when i'm alone but can't bring myself to ask for help. i just want to lay on my friends' air mattress in the floor above mine and never see my old friends or family again. october was the best month of my life, but simultaneously the worst, because every time there wasn't a movie night or a hangout i was cracking into pieces. for the first time in five years i need to make a safety plan, not for my life but for what i do within it. because i have no idea what tomorrow is going to look like for me but i know it's not going to be good. i'm convinced people are watching me and that if i make just one post here i'm going to hear someone banging on my door and i am so fucking scared. i usually repress these things but yesterday's realization that i'm more alone than i've ever been, and that i've been alone for so much longer than i thought, is making it hard to breathe. i don't know how to be a good person. i don't know how to live with myself anymore.

so i'm taking a break from tumblr. i might still be liking posts, but i need to force myself to stop using the site. i don't remember my password entirely so i don't want to log out, but i won't be here. it's also safe to say i'll be gone from discord for a while, too. looking at my dms makes me nauseous and i hope at least one person may be able to understand why. i'm sorry to my friends who i've not replied to in a while, i love you and i think of you and there will be a reply. obviously with every "i'm taking a break" post there's the odds i'm back here tomorrow, but i don't think that's the case.

i'll be okay. i love you all. see you.

[megaawkwardhuman]

hello hi hey I'm icarus (but I'm also fine with virgo) and welcome to my blog!

idkf how you got here but uhhh congrats?

also sorry if parts of the gif look weird idfk how to fix it

I'm a neurodivergent artist who talks about gay vampires (wwdits) a lot!

I do have other interests tho like ofmd, good omens, hannibal, re-animator, interview with the vampire, watcher, the band ghost, the world of mr plant, and south park (it's just that wwdits is just what I think about the most)

things I've made:

I've written a few fic before and one can be found on my blog! it's a post season 4 nandermo fic and here's a link if you wanna check it out :)

as for the rest can be found on my ao3 here! (I'm not going to move the post season 4 fic there mainly cause idk if I really wanna)

I made a uquiz a few months ago that basically tells you what you would be if you where in the wwdits universe (a vampire, a familiar. an energy vampire etc)

I have an instagram that I just post my art to and that's really it

things I like to make:

as you can probably gather by now I primarily do pixel art but I also like to doodle/sketch with good old pencil and paper

I make a LOT of kandi (primarily singles) buuut I don't really post it on here (I mean unless someone asks me to I'm more than willing to share)

I kinda write? like I've written fics before and I DO have a bunch of wips but it's kinda hard for me to finish a fic due to the fact that I get distracted easily and the fact that I'm really dyslexic (you have no idea how badly I wanna fist fight the english language in a denny's parking lot at 3am)

oh while it's not a medium or anything but I'd like to mention I LOVE to draw characters from the media I like as pastel bunnies! (tho at this current moment it's primarily wwdits characters I draw) is it weird? yeah but I like to so I'm not stopping anytime soon if you want a rough explanation as to why I made a long post about it

fav characters:

guillermo de la cruz from wwdits (seriously I'm fucking feral for this man he's my top blorbo atm! he has my gender in a chokehold and I relate to him A LOT also harvey guillen is just really fucking hot-)

nandor the relentless also from wwdits (not as crazy about him but like he fascinates me and I love his goofy cringefail vibes... HE'S ALSO REALLY HOT-)

dib from invader zim (while I haven't watched invader zim in a while I still consider dib to be a fav! hell he's my fucking profile pic. he's one of the first ever characters in something I've seen that I've related to)

stede from ofmd (he's a huge fucking mood and I too jump into things head first without any plans whatsoever)

argos from twomp (a new addition to my fav character list since I stumbled upon twomp more recently. idk I just like him like go googly eye man date that murderous plant dude! wow that must sound weird to those who don't know what the world of mr plant is XD. it also might have to do with the fact that he's kinda socially awkward)

mr plant from twomp (another new addition. idfk something about that murderous plant I find oddly relatable? I think it's the fact that he's also socially awkward. arguably more than argos)

herbert west from re-animator (idk I think this autistic man with no care for ethics is neat)

I have more but for now those are the ones I'm gonna list :)

other shit:

as I've already said I have dyslexia, I possibly have ADHD (never officially diagnosed buuuuut really fucking confident I do and a past therapist said I most likely do), I keep running into situations where I question if I have autism or not so take that as you will, and despite what it may seem I have really REALLY bad social anxiety (well I have overall anxiety too but let's just say there's a reason I spend a lot of time online and not out and about)

asks as you can already tell are open

DMs are also open (tho I will say it's mainly to mutuals)

WARNING I KEYBOARD SMASH A LOT!

nandermo shipper but I'm fine with other ships involving the two :)

overall I try to be nice on here cuz there's enough negativity out there why add to it? tho key word here is try (I've gone on small rants here before and there's the possibility I will again)

I really REALLY fucking love bats and frogs THEY'RE JUST LITTLE GUYS HOW CAN I NOT?

there will be moments where for one reason or another (sleep deprived, sad, bored, it's a tueday, etc etc) I'll be reminded that oh yeah I fucking love frogs and will just start spam reblogging frog posts so be warned if you see me reblog a frog photo and read the words frog blogging or frog posting in the tags run while you still can (or don't cuz frogs are the best and need to be loved and cherished)

tag stuff:

misc thoughts/ideas/this tag is mainly random shit: throwing up my thoughts onto tumblr again

theories/meta/looking too much into small stuff: word garbage™

answering asks: answering stuff

my art: *funny tag for my art*

bunny art related posts: bun stuff

mothman memo related posts: mothman memo stuff

fanfics I've written: gather around and lend me your time

edits I've made: edit shmedit

memes I've made: brought to you by ms paint

show + tags thing: + tags

all the weekly wwdits sparkle on images: sparkle on it's gay vamp day!!!

posts that involve irl friends of mine: friend chaos

follow for a fuck ton of reblogs, art, and long tangents about whatever takes over my mind atm

thanks for reading, have a nice day, and remember: baby bats are called pups

this has nothing to do with this post I just thought this was important info plus I just wanted to throw in this cute bat image I found on google

[ilovewriting06]

Greek Tragedy

A/N: I’m thinking of making a part 2 to this and skipping to like the middle of season 1 with the story. So let me know if you want a part 2.

I screamed out of shock as someone grabbed my arm and pulled me inside the house I had been reading a book behind on a beach chair. I was dragged into the room with three guys and the man that took me in as his own. m

John was tied to the chair he was sitting in talking to someone in a calm yet shaky voice. I listened as he ordered the person on the other end of the phone to not give the man what he wants. The guy that was holding me in place looked at me and then back at the man holding a gun beside John. I watched in fear as the man holding the gun yelled about his brother before a gunshot echoed throughout the house and I watched the man who took me in a mere few months ago die, no, as he got murdered. I screamed but nothing came out.

I would have fallen to the ground if it wouldn’t have been for the man holding me. I stared at John as silent tears rolled down my face. When the man who just murdered John hung up the phone he turned to me and went to say something until he heard sirens in the distance getting closer. He cursed under his breath before he said, “Forget her we have to go!” And just like that I fell to the floor as the man released me and ran out the back door with the others. I crawled over to where John was sitting and sat up on my knees before shaking his shoulders and screaming, “NO, NO, DON’T LEAVE ME! I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITHOUT YOU! PLEASE COME BACK. Please.” My voice broke on my last plea before I fell to the floor screaming and crying until I couldn’t breathe. I was only there for a few seconds before the police barged in, guns raised, but it felt like hours had passed. I felt someone grab my shoulder and I backed away quickly with sobs still leaving my mouth. I looked into the face of a kind looking man as he offered me his hand to help me up. I shakily took his hand and allowed him to lead me outside the house.

Everything after that all flew by while I was stuck in time replaying what happened over and over again in my mind. By now I was sitting in an interrogation room alone. At least five police officers and a therapist had been in here trying to get me to talk but I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t. I was still trying to process that the only person who has every truly loved me, was murdered in front of me.

I peeked up a little bit as I heard the familiar voice of the officer who had helped me, who I had learned was called Duke, talking to someone outside the door. I heard an unfamiliar voice respond in a concerned yet confused voice, “What was she doing there?”

“I don’t know Steve,” Steve? Steve who? Steve McGarrett? Johns son? He was here? Well duh it was his father, wait, how long have I been here?, “all I know is that she was in the room when your father was killed and she hasn’t said a word since.”

I heard the voice I’ve learned is Steve reply, “Jesus, how long has she been in there?”

“Ever since we found her.”

“Has she eaten?” Well he seems caring.

“No, we’ve offered but she just shakes her head no.”

“Can I see her?”

I assume Duke agreed as the door soon opened to reveal Duke followed by a tall man with dark hair and blue bloodshot eyes enter the room. Duke offered to stay but Steve was quick to deny the offer. After Duke left Steve sat in the chair across from me. I peaked at him through my hair. He’s definitely not bad looking. Stop it Y/N. I looked back down at the metal table before I heard Steve clear his throat before speaking, “I’m Steve McGarrett, I’m John’s son.” I glanced at him before nodding my head to signal that I knew who he was. I watched as he shifted nervously before asking, “What’s your name?” I looked up and made eye contact before quickly looking down. I heard him sight before saying, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me but I want to help you and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me who you are.” I looked down before opening my mouth and then closing it again. I watched as his eyes lit up with hope before he encouraged me again, “It’s okay it’s just me and you, no one else.” I looked up at him again and felt the comfort I had only felt with John and knew that I could trust Steve. “Y/N, my name is Y/N.” My voice was hoarse from crying and underuse. He smiled a small smile before nodding his head, “Do you need anything?A drink or some food?”

“A water would be nice.”

He smiled and nodded his head before getting up and started to walk out the door before I stopped him, “Please don’t leave me.” My voice shook as I spoke and he looked at me with a mix of surprise and sympathy before nodding his head and motioning for someone and then asking them to bring me a water.

A couple seconds later a guy walks in and sets a bottle of water on the table before exiting the room. I reached my arm out to grab the water resulting in my hoodie sleeve to slide up revealing a couple of my scars. I quickly grabbed the water and retreated hoping that Steve hadn’t seen but from the look on his face he definitely saw them. “How old are you?”

I looked up slightly before answering, “I’m 24.” He looked at me and I knew the question that he was burning to ask. Why were you at my fathers house? Sure enough the next words out of his mouth were, “Why were you there?” I played with the sleeve of my hoodie before taking a deep breath, “I live, lived there. Jo-your dad found me a couple months ago in an alley and noticed I was pretty banged up. He offered to help me and wouldn’t take no for an answer.” I watched as Steve smiled a reminiscent smile before continuing, “While he was cleaning the cut on my face he was questioning me, similarly to what you’re doing now, and offered me a place to stay when he found out I was living with an abusive boyfriend who wouldn’t let me do anything without beating me for it. I hesitated to agree, but he was nothing if not a persistent man. I finally agreed and ever since then I’ve been living with him. He helped me get a job as a waitress and I was even saving up money to get an apartment.” I suddenly stopped as I realized that I had nowhere to go now. Sure I had savings but only a few hundred dollars, not even close to enough to live on. I shook my head before running a hand through my hair revealing the scar that ran from my temple down to my cheekbone, curtesy of my abusive ass of a boyfriend, ex-boyfriend.

Steve watched me carefully before asking, “The scars, on your arms, are they self inflicted or..?” He kind of faded out but I answered him, “No they aren’t self inflicted. They look like it since my ex used a broken beer bottle to cut me when I tried to run away.”

Steve once again looked at me with sympathy before asking, “Where are going to go now?”

“I don’t know.”

He seemed to think about it for a second but he offered, “You can stay with me until you get on your feet. I’ll be staying at dads house.”

I choked back a sob before saying, “I don't think I can go back into that house, but thank you.”

He seemed to understand because he offered, “I can get you a room at a hotel close by if you would like.”

I looked at him surprised that he’s offering to rent me a room, but then again his father would have done the same. Before I can stop myself I agree and he offers to take me once we were done here.

I agree and he explains that I have to leave a statement of what I saw. I didn’t agree till Steve said he would stay with me. As I told Duke what happened I shook as I replayed what had happened. I started to have a panic attack when I felt Steve’s hand on my shoulder I glanced up at him as he threw Duke a look which told him to leave the room. After Duke hesitated he reluctantly left the room leaving me and Steve alone again. Steve pulled my chair out before crouching in front of me and grabbing my hands in a comforting manner before saying, “Y/N, it’s okay they aren’t here. You’re okay.”

I choked on a sob before saying, “I know I’m here, but he’s not. I watched him die Steve, the only person that ever treated me like somebody that mattered, was taken from me, and it’s not okay. I don’t know what to do and now that he’s gone I feel like I lost my purpose. For the last few months I took care of him, made sure he ate and sat around as he told stories about you and your sister Mary. Now, now I have nothing. I hate my job, I’m treated like shit by coworkers and the people I wait on. Steve I don’t have a father, he was the closest thing to one I’ve ever had and now I don’t have anyone.”

Steve pulled me into a hug and then pulled back to look in my eyes before saying, “No, you have me. My father took care of everyone that deserves to be taken care of and now that he’s gone it’s my job to take care of the people or in this case person he took care of.”

I wiped away a tear before making a decision, “I think I changed my mind, I think I want to stay with you if that’s okay.” He smiles before nodding, “ Yeah, it’s okay Y/N/N.” I smiled and said, “I like that. I haven’t had many nicknames that weren’t slut, whore, piece of shit, and things of the like.” “Well in that case I’ll be sure to supply you with many more.”

[moodymelanist]

“Do you need some help with those lights?” “No, I don’t. Stop asking me that.”

Gwynriel 💗💗

okay so 1) I know you sent me this FOREVER ago and 2) it was supposed to be Christmas themed so I hope you enjoy anyway even though it’s so late and also I’m now making it Halloween themed. Anyway byeeeeee

Azriel grinned to himself as he spotted his neighbor struggling valiantly to hang some lights over her porch, hastening his steps so he could ask her if she needed any help.

Gwyn had moved into the house a few months ago with two other women — best friends from college, he’d learned, after Cassian had struck up a conversation with one of them.

Their relationship had started out friendly enough. His brothers teased him about how introverted he could be, and his therapist had suggested trying to put himself out there more, so Azriel tried to say good morning and have a nice day whenever he saw one of his neighbors.

Everything had changed one afternoon when he’d asked Gwyn if she needed help with her decorations. He’d been walking home from the nearest train stop, preferring to take the Metro rather than brave DC traffic everyday, and Gwyn had been in the process of trying to begin decorating their front yard for Halloween. He’d asked her if she needed help spreading cobwebs, and she’d politely declined his help.

She’d gradually been getting less polite with her responses, and part of him was really enjoying winding her up. She was just so adorable when she was pissed off — he couldn’t help himself.

“Do you need some help with those lights?” Azriel asked once he was close enough, already smiling.

Gwyn turned from where she was standing on a chair, a scowl half-formed on her beautiful face. “No, I don’t. Stop asking me that!”

“You sure?” he continued, his small smile turning into a little smirk as her face began turning red. “I’m pretty tall, it wouldn’t be any problem.”

“I’m pretty tall too, if you haven’t noticed,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Not as tall as me, Berdara,” he fired back. “Let me help you.”

“No thank you,” she trilled, turning back around to continue her struggle with the lights.

Azriel didn’t move at the dismissal, wanting to standby in case Gwyn slipped and fell. The chair she was standing on wasn’t the most structurally sound, and he would be pissed with himself if she hurt herself the second she walked away.

Huh. That was a new thought.

Azriel took a few steps closer, his hands hovering between them to spot Gwyn as she leaned out to try and tape down part of the lights. He watched almost in slow motion as the chair overbalanced, desperately surging forward to wrap his arms around her and prevent her from hitting the ground.

“Told you you needed my help, Berdara,” he said, his arms still wrapped firmly around her middle. He held onto her for a second longer to reassure himself that she was really alright before releasing her.

“I didn’t take you for an ‘I told you so’ kind of guy,” Gwyn responded, out of breath from the shock of falling so suddenly. She turned to face him, her teal eyes wide from the surprise of it all. “Thanks, though.”

Feeling bold, Azriel replied, “You can take me for a lot of things, if you want. And you’re welcome.”

She studied him for a few heart-stopping moments before a pretty smile spread across her face. “Okay. How about dinner, then?”

“Okay,” he managed to get out. His therapist was going to have a field day with this turn of events. “When do you—?”

“Saturday, 7:30 pm,” she interrupted, her smile turning playful. “Don’t be late. I know where you live.”

“I’ll do my best,” Azriel told her with a small smile of his own. “If we have a good time, maybe I can help you with the rest of these decorations.”

Gwyn just laughed before telling him to get off her lawn.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @nestaspegasus | @a-court-of-valkyries | @rowaelinismyotp | @live-the-fangirl-life | @sv0430 | @brieq | @positivewitch | @sayosdreams | @nesquik-arccheron | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @vidalinav | @swankii-art-teacher | @that-little-red-head | @secretlovelybeauty | @starksravings | @dustjacketmusings | @katekatpattywack | @claralady | @gwynethhberdara | @duskandstarlight | @arinbelle | @vanserrass | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @houseofcalores | @imsointobooks | @silvernesta | @planet-faerie | @teagoddess99 | @champanheandluxxury | @catplayinvioline | @flora-shadowshine | @nerdperson524 | @story-scribbler | @vasudharaghavan | @dealfea | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @charming-butt-insane | @highqueenofelfhame | @julemmaes | @oversizedbats | @readingismyonlyhobby | @milkkand-honey | @wildlyglittering | @thewayshedreamed | @goddess-aelin

[beaisdifferent]

ADHD: How Did I know?

About a year ago now, I was in my kitchen with my then boyfriend.  I don’t remember what we were talking about as I cooked dinner, just that we were talking as we always did, with me jumping between points of conversation that were very obviously connected for me, but that he needed a roadmap to follow. 

Eventually he stopped me.  “Have you ever considered you have ADHD?”

I laughed and brushed him off.  Obviously I didn’t have ADHD.  I could sometimes sit still doing the same thing for hours.  In fact sometimes it was like I couldn’t do anything else!  And I got good grades in school.  So obviously I didn’t have ADHD.

Those two factors were literally my only defense against the idea.  If anything, it was probably just my probably-autism.  Later that week I brought the conversation up with my therapist, probably rolling my eyes like I knew what I was talking about.  She frowned thoughtfully, and I watched her think back on all our sessions.  Pshh, come on.  I could hear my father in the back of my mind, everyone has ADHD these days, nobody had it when I was a kid, maybe they need a good spanking to sit still, its just a way to make money by drugging up kids.  Then her voice cut overtop my dad’s.  “We should look into this.”  She sent me a few forms, pre-assessment questionnaires to determine if getting officially tested would be worth it.

I read the questions for ADHD.

Uh oh.

Uh oh.

UH OH.

It’s all very me.

It had already figured I had autism spectrum disorder for a while, did I actually have ADHD?  Did I have both?  Was that even possible?

It had me nervous and curious, so I went deep diving.  I read on the experiences of people with ADHD, particularly adult women, and found discomforting relatability.  Then it became comforting relatability.  Could it be that all these things I hate about myself are actually symptoms of some funky wiring in my brain rather than personality flaws?  I also learned that while the topic is still being researched (thank goodness, don’t ever let the research stop), it is very possible to have both ADHD and autism.  It’s not even that uncommon.

So, I went and officially got tested, and received Autism and ADHD stamp of authenticity.

I was a month away from turning twenty-four, finally given an answer an answer to a lifetime of questions.  Questions I had stopped asking.  Questions like, why is it so hard to make friends?  Why can’t I remember to do simple things?  Why does life seem so overwhelming for me when everyone else seems to manage it just fine?  Why do my emotions feel so overwhelming and uncontrollable.  Why do I feel paralyzed in the face of things I know I can do?  I had accepted the answer I was given by people who didn’t know any better than I did.  I was lazy, clearly didn’t care, was just anxious, etc., etc., bullshit.

I’ve spent a lot of time this year looking back on my life, reframing things with this new understanding.  I had a label, I had an answer, I had a community.  I was neurodivergent.  I connected with a friend with ADHD and found we had even more in common than I thought we did.  So many things that had been a target of self-loathing for me were now a target of understanding, things that could be helped with the right supports in place.

It changed everything.  And it has continued to change everything.  And that super smart boyfriend became my super smart husband a few weeks ago, so the changes have been for the better.

Visit my blog at beaisdifferent.wordpress.com for a neurodivergent perspective every Tuesday at 9:00 am EST.

[takeyourpillsbitchh]

A teaser/preview of my new fic Silent Pain in Emerald Eyes. I hope you guys enjoy this preview and I will most certainly be updating you all when the full version is posted. Please mind all tags/trigger warnings. ❤️

Summary: Eight months ago lan was rescued from a man who held him captive for six months. The trauma he endured has caused him live a life of silence. Now that he's safe again he has to fight to get back to his normal life...or as normal as his life can be. He has hope that with the help of his dark haired, tattooed, therapist he can get there.

Tags/Warnings: Suicidal ideation. PTSD. Mentioned/Implied Kidnapping. Mentioned/Implied Sexual Assault. Mentioned/Implied Torture. Mutism. Trauma Aftermath and Recovery. Mentioned/Implied "taboo" relationship of therapist/patient.

Words: 754. (12k Total)

Chapters: 1/6

Got to get out.

Got to leave.

It’s so dark.

I just want to go home.

Help!

“Someone help me!”

Ian bolted upright in bed, an agonizing shock jolting his body from sleep. His hands shot to his neck, clawing until he realized there was nothing there. His chest was heaving, his throat was dry, and he was drenched in sweat. Bringing a shaky hand up, he wiped the beads of sweat from his face, forcing himself to take some deep breaths before opening his eyes again.

3:44 AM the bedside clock flashed at him. He let out a puff of air, turning to lean his back against the wall, eyes focusing on the clock, but not really focusing at all. 3:45. I’m tired. 3:46. I should probably go back to sleep. 3:47. Maybe I should run away. 3:48. If I leave now, I could make it to the bridge and end it all before anyone ever realized I was missing. 3:49. Not like anyone would care, anyway. 3:50. I don’t want to be here anymore.

Ian’s eyelids got heavier and heavier with every minute that passed. The next time he opened his eyes, the clock read 6:28 AM and the morning light was shining in through the dusty, broken window blinds next to his bed. He squeezed his eyes a few times to clear the sleep from them, dragging his palms over his face and through his hair.

The sounds of others doing their morning routines could be heard down the hall and down the stairs. Routines. God, did he hate routines. He glanced at the clock, 6:30 AM on the dot, and… knock, knock, knock.

“Ian,” Fiona called gently through the plastic accordion door that was barely hanging on. “You awake? It's time for your meds.”

Ian rolled his eyes, meds. Of course. Meds. Routine. God forbid he was 5 minutes late getting downstairs to have her stare at him unblinkingly as he swallows a handful of pills and double checks that his mouth is empty before forcing a breakfast plate in his hands and seating him at the table like a child.

He reaches out, hitting his closed fist against the wall three times, his sign to them that he’s awake, dressed and they’re allowed to come in. She walks in with a breakfast tray in hand and gives him a smile that’s too bright for this early in the morning. He gives her a barely there smile in return, only to not be an asshole and takes the tray when offered.

She grabs a little white cup from the corner of the tray and offers it to him. He nearly rolls his eyes again but stops himself, throws the pills in his mouth then swallows them with the plastic cup of orange juice. She looks at him patiently but expectantly. This time he does roll his eyes. Opening his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out and lifting it up, gives her a ‘you happy now look’. She puts her hands up in surrender and nods her head.

“Eat up,” She says, looking at the watch on her wrist, “You’ve got an appointment with your therapist today.”

Ian looked up at that, his heart giving a heavy thud in his chest. Therapy? It’s not Friday. He glanced at his clock. Yep, Wednesday, definitely not Friday. He looked at Fiona confused and she gave him a pitying look. He hated that look.

“I asked him to start seeing you twice a week—” Ian grunted, scrunching his nose at her. “He asked to see me, you and Lip last Friday. Lip and I feel like you aren’t making enough progress with only one appointment a week. It’s been 8 months…”

Ian shook his head. He knows how long it’s been. God, why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why does he have to make progress according to their timeline? He wishes he could make them feel the pain he feels when he tries to speak. They think it’s so easy. This is exactly why he just wants to fucking run away.

Instead of having her give him his notebook so he could write her a nasty message he just gave her an angry thumbs up.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. We have to leave in an hour,” She said standing from the bed. “And Ian?” He looked up at her, a dead tired look in his eyes. That same pitying look on her face. “Happy birthday.”

Coming Soon to Ao3, 07/24/2022