#wakes up in a rage sometimes and he doesn't really know why--he's the most dangerous one to wake up bc you never know WHO you'll get and

[toxintouch]

Headcanon that Ais never feels fully rested. He doesn't feel tired, but he doesn't feel right either. Not since joining the groupmind.

He sleeps, but his mind is never really at peace. When and if he manages to fall into a deep enough sleep, he's in a constant state of something akin to lucid dreaming.

He gets flashes of the other members of the group mind in place of any real rest. Their current actions; errant memories; whispers in long-dead languages he's leaned to understand.

[velven1th]

what kind of dreams to they tend to have?

Luc’s dreams aren’t linear. They aren’t even really “his.”

He dreams in fractures:

Rooms abandoned long ago, where the wallpaper peels and the light falls wrong.

Voices he almost recognizes, whispering half-truths and names he doesn't remember giving.

Hands reaching out — not to hurt, not to heal — just reaching, always just out of grasp.

Some nights, he dreams about the breaks in reality itself. The thin bleeding skin between worlds, the places he walks when he's awake but pretends not to see. He’ll wander endless hallways, find doorways that lead into memories he isn’t sure are his — feel paths branching under his feet like roots splitting concrete.

Emotion saturates everything. In Luc's dreams, feelings are thick as fog:

The heartbreak of a widow who still sets two plates at dinner.

The grief of a man who realizes too late he kissed the wrong goodbye.

The rage of a child whose prayers were left unanswered.

Sometimes, he dreams about people he knows now. But the faces shift — a friend's hand reaching for him becomes someone else’s hand. A familiar voice calls his name, but when he turns, it’s no one at all. (He wakes up aching, furious at himself for chasing something he could never catch.)

On his worst nights, Luc dreams he forgets.

Forgets why he’s here.

Forgets who he loves.

Forgets who he is.

He’ll feel pieces of himself slip away, like water leaking through cracked fingers — and the terror of it clings to him long after he's awake.

The rarest, most dangerous dreams? He dreams of stillness. No echoes. No shifting paths. No grief. Just a quiet existence — simple, human — someone's hand warm in his, the world untouched by his chaos. (Those mornings, he stays very, very still in bed, eyes open against the ceiling, because the fall back into reality feels like breaking his own spine.)

[sanzusbestie]

Whoohoo you're one of my favorite writers! Thank you for opening requests! I have a request for Sanzu please. That he's hiding his drug usage from his s/o because he knows she will leave him if she finds out and he absolutely does not want that happen. She suspected something wasn't right (besides him being a little crazy but she accepted him that way) but drug usage disgusts her. What would he do if she found out? I know it'll probably be angsty af but discard this if you don't like the idea or it'll be a mess. Thank you anyways. 😘

♡ Tokyo ♡

Pairing : Sanzu Haruchiyo x f!reader

Genre : angst

Warnings : drugs

A/n : You are absolutely so sweet 😭 Really thank you so much for your kind words, it means a lot ! Thank you for requesting and have a nice day ♡

Tokyo has a great illness but ignores itself, like all capitals ! This admirable city has in it all the living forces allowing to create Beauty but it also hides - under a luxurious cover - the vices slowly eating it away.

Your lover was like Tokyo.

Happiness was so difficult to reach that it seemed wise to be content with the illusions it brought.

A real man doesn't like to be sick in front of his lover... It was a norm, it was human. The lover shall know only the beautiful side, shall never be disappointed and especially pitied. This was how Sanzu Haruchiyo lived.

You accepted him for who he was, for a whole. His scars, his last name : Sanzu or Akashi, it didn't matter, his craziness that sometimes was contagious, his promises.

His fine words.

He spoke of evil, drugs, with such serenity that he became reassuring. You didn't realize he was just making things worse and that, by talking about something under the guise of destroying it, he ended up giving it a frightening reality in your mind. He made it possible, real, alive...

So you started to wonder. Why was it that every time he told you about his day at work, which so often made him talk about their drug trafficking, he made sure to repeat he wasn't taking and never took any ? Was he thinking that rehashing this would make you believe him ?

You did believe him, for a long time in your relationship. But you wanted to be sure. Was he really sick when you heard him throwing up late into the night ? Was it really only screens that would change his pupils ?

Haruchiyo Akashi was like Tokyo : beautiful, lively, luminescent.

You, once again, took a walk into town. Indeed, you felt it was essential if one wanted to discover the true features of a city, to see it fall asleep and wake up. The faces of the morning were not the same as those of the evening and it wasn't when the cities were crushed by the noise of the traffic or by the movement of the crowds that they lived the most intensely : at these times called "peak", they ceased to have their own personality and resembled all the other cities. The soul of a city was a bit like the human one : it also needed moments of calm and shadow to truly find itself.

Haruchiyo Sanzu was like Tokyo : beautiful, lively, luminescent, lying.

The anger, the spite, the rage, and especially the shame of having been so gullible invaded your heart and mind with a prodigious violence.

Confronting him, you wondered if you weren't better just ignorant. Why did you have to find out ? Why hasn't he been more discreet ? Even if you were to live together for many years, you should never have know each other completely... Lovers were wrong, wanting to discover everything about the other. Inevitably, if they'd play too much in this dangerous game, the moment when they'd have nothing to learn or they'd find out something they shouldn't have would come : that was the flaw of their love.

Haruchiyo loved you. He loved you more than he's ever loved anybody in this world. That's why he only asked you to stay once, without any empty promises of him stoping the drugs.

But you couldn't stay with someone who was slowly killing himself. That's how you saw it.

"Can I at least hug you before you go ?"

How could you say no ?

During the entire time of your embrace, his senses were like amplified. He heard his heart pounding in his chest and the intense sound of his breathing. He felt lost, out of himself, helpless, as if an other man had taken control of his body. And at the same time, he was more himself than he has been before.

By leaving him, you had taken away all that was solar in him : his hopes, his confidence, his faith in the future. You had dried up his existence, draining it of its laughter and colours. You had above all suffocated his heart, taking away any possibility of loving again. Now, his inner life looked like a scorched earth, without trees and birds, forever frozen in the cold of January. He had no appetite or desire, except burning his neurones daily with drugs to dilute the memories too painful to face.

Because, as long as you're able to hide it, it's easier for a person, just like a city, to slowly destroy themselve than to have the courage to question themselve, isn't ?

Haruchiyo was like Tokyo : beautiful, lively, luminescent, lying, destroyed, dying.

♡

Taglist : @erishaitto

[early20sfailingplenty]

Down, down in an earlier round // Felix x Bo // personalised comfort

A/N: Personalised for @houseofheelshire because who doesn't want Bo comfort? I hope you enjoy this!! Written while watching HoW (for that ✨immersion✨ so hopefully it's something you can really connect to and relate with! Used some inspo. from our DMs today but nothing explicit because our convos stay ours.

PLEASE NOTE - Fully personalised; he/him pronouns & male reader visualised (I took the info. I needed from your blog & I hope that's okay!💗)

Summary: You've pulled into yourself for reasons you can't fully comprehend. No stranger is Bo to what you're going through - no two experiences are the same but he understands, he does, and he's there for you. Come hell or high water - y're a Sinclair, ain't'cha? An' they stick together. Family.

TW; mentions of vomit (2nd paragraph; not relevant to fic), self-loathing, self-imposed social withdrawal, talk of unhealthy coping mechanisms (Bo; canon-compliant), canon compliant darkness, possessive language (Bo), swearing.

Word count: 2, 552.

Bo may not have ever left Ambrose for more than a quick trip into the next town for some supplies for the town or for the family household, but he had experienced more of the cruelties of human nature than most people. He had been used, abused, traumatised, ripped apart by his parents, by the world they have carved out for their dysfunctional family, and though he would only ever admit to feeling rage because of it, he knew more.

He knew waking up at two in the morning in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest and the feeling of fear so strong that he wanted to run, to just run. He knew panic attacks in the shower at three in the morning, fully clothed and the water running cold, just trying to feel something real. He knew self-hatred so strong that it made him want to vomit, and sometimes he did, his stomach roiling under the hurricane of thoughts which refused to let up in his mind.

Bo knew.

So when you began to withdraw into yourself without a word spoken, Bo noticed that something wasn't right almost immediately. Not right away, for a busy man is he between running the town, maintaining supplies, patching up leaky roofs and other such mundane tasks, as well as trying to be a human when he had an odd moment here and there, but he did notice. Bo's mind was as sharp as the blades his twin favoured and though he didn't know why you were pulling into yourself, he figured it wasn't his business just yet. You would tell him when you were ready, and not before. Pushing you into telling him might only make you pull even further into yourself - at least, that was Bo's experience with Vincent - and he didn't want to do that.

Bo and his brothers were the only residents of Ambrose other than you. Lester lived in the next town over, but Bo still considered his littlest brother to be a resident. He stopped by for the night sometimes and always stayed in his childhood room; all the brothers did. Bo preferred sleeping on the sofa if he wasn't with you, though. He hated lying in his childhood bedroom. Too many memories and not enough vices to shut them out. Just like his parents had done to him every fuckin' day of his life. By default were the Sinclairs the most dangerous people in Ambrose, but as time passed and you only further withdrew into yourself without any rhyme or reason from what Bo could discern, he began to wonder if you were a danger, too. Not to himself or his twin, but almost definitely to yourself. Humans had the capacity to be cruel, callous and underhanded, Bo knew, and when frustrations and such turned inward, well... it could be a bloodbath inside one's own mind.

You deserved better from yourself and if you weren't gonna' give it to yourself, or even if you couldn't, then Bo was just gonna' have to do it for you. He was nothing if not thorough when it came to what was his. His town, his brothers, his Felix.

His.

It was closer to seven in the evening as you walked through the abandoned but well kept streets of Ambrose. The sun was only just beginning to set, the sky covered in violent streaks of reds, oranges and yellows. It looked as raw and as angry as you felt and oddly were you comforted by the idea that the sky was hurting like you were. In your hands was clutched yours and Bo's dinner. Lester and Vincent had already eaten and the dishes were taken care of; unusually had Vincent helped you with tidying up the kitchen. He hadn't asked if you wanted help and neither had you asked him for his help, he had simply come up behind you (nearly scaring you half to death, so stealthy was he) with a thankfully clean towel and started to dry the dishes as you put them on the draining board. When you were both done, Vincent had surprised you once more by putting a strong, hot hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with his and squeezing just once before he had turned and left, going back the way he had come with slow, sure steps.

Vincent knew just as much as Bo did, and the younger twin's affectionate gesture had said many things, notably; I see you. You're not alone. I'm here.

You knew that everything Vincent offered to you was doubly offered and freely given by Bo, and you had thrown a thank you over your shoulder towards Vincent, who had waved a hand behind him in acknowledgement. Your interactions with him were usually like this, with each of you communicating in your own ways and understanding the other person perfectly with minimal effort. You knew each other well, such was your time in Ambrose that it had always felt like you were meant to be there from the very start.

You walked into the garage and immediately set about finding a clean place to put your dinner down. Soft music was playing, which meant that Bo was in a good mood. Angry music denoted either an equally angry Bo, or a Bo who was suffering so deeply and so profoundly that he didn't want to even hear himself think. The counter was relatively clean, so you put your dinner down there and grabbed the utensils, wrapped in foil, out of your pocket. Bo was happy to eat with grease-stained, oily fingers, but you weren't. He would make a pissy comment if you only brought one set of cutlery, so you bought two of everything. There was a gentle apathy about you today, and every Sinclair had picked up on it. It was why Lester had gotten some good meat (from the grocery store, not roadkill still unbaked by the sun), why Vincent had helped you with the dishes... they had such quiet ways of affection but you heard them all loud and clear; even Vincent. His affection was perhaps the loudest of the three, if only because his non-verbal communication was so effective that it left no room for misinterpretation.

"Bo?" You called for him, not concerned by his lack of appearance. Bo and Vincent had similar work ethics, always so hard did they work. You only called the once - he would have heard you, given the acoustics of the garage and how attentive he was to his surroundings, and he would get pissed off if you called him multiple times. It was a lesson you had learned many a time, though today you cared little. You just wanted to be seen, to feel like you weren't alone, to feel like you mattered.

You wanted, in short, Bo.

In this instance, what you wanted, you already had.

"M'here, Felix," Bo's accent drifted into your ears and caressed your tormented mind, soothing your raging thoughts and making you feel a little better. Oh, but the power he had. Not just physically, in his brutality and the way he dealt with visitors to the town, but the way in which he could affect you so completely with just a few words. He was so beautiful. "Sumthin' smells good," With the stairs from the basement being where they were, Bo was able to run a hand down your back as he came up behind you. Unlike Vincent, Bo tried to announce his presence to you if he came up from behind. He knew well that fight or flight wasn't voluntary and he didn't want to find out which one your body typically followed. "What did'ya make?"

"Your favourite." You smiled. A string seemed to exist between your mouth and Bo's, for your smile triggered his own and he leaned in and down as he pressed a fiercely tender kiss to your forehead. "Vincent helped with the dishes, so they're done."

Bo shrugged. "They c'n be dealt with anytime. Ain't like they're goin' nowhere. " As he began to dig in, so did you. You were taking your cues from Bo, already wanting his company just as much as you wanted to be left alone. "Ya' gonna' tell me wha's bin' bitin' at'cha, darlin'? I know there's sumthin' goin' on." His tone was casual, oh... but there was a darker edge. A challenge. Bo wasn't asking, it was only phrased that way because he didn't want to put you on edge (which, almost ironically, would have had that effect if it hadn't been Bo asking you). He was telling you to tell him in the gentlest way he could, and like a tap left running did everything come pouring out. At some point, you stopped eating and Bo took notice, putting his own fork down, too. He mirrored you so often and you wondered if he knew that he was doing it.

You kept talking until you had taken yourself to the point where words ran dry, every poisonous thing you had been telling yourself laid bare for Bo to examine. You felt better, admittedly, but you just wanted to sink into Bo above all else, to hide inside him until you felt like it was safer for you to come out. You expected a derisive scoff. You expected a joke or a comment which would only make you feel worse. You expected anything other than what Bo did, which was to sharply inhale and run a hand across the lower portion of his face.

"Ah, shit," He cursed, "I git' it. S'easy to pull in when everythin' seems up against ya'. But stay there too long an' all those mean whispers you try to drown out in the day c'n make ya' crazy. All that emotion an' s'got nowhere ta' go." Bo nodded decisively. "I get it, Felix." The lack of an endearing nickname only told the truths of Bo's seriousness. "Jus' don't forget ya' got me and m'brothers, okay? We ain't gonna' let'cha tear y'reself down. Tha's our job." He teased gently, a smile on his lips though it didn't meet his eyes.

"Thanks, Bo," You gave him a slightly watery smile and Bo gave you a closed mouth one in return, tension in his jaw and shoulders as he continued eating, looking at you pointedly until you began to do the same. "Can I..." You paused, considering your words. Touch had always been your love language, but Bo was busy and you already felt like you had been annoying him by bringing him dinner. Even with his enthusiastic greeting and the way he had obviously finished up what he was doing to join you without protest, you still felt like you were a bother for him and it almost made you wish that you hadn't bothered to make him any dinner or to go to the effort to bring it down to him. "Can we, I mean - " You sighed. You knew what you wanted to say, but you felt like you were annoying him, so you stopped yourself every damn time. It was fucking you off. You were pissing yourself off, and it only made you hate yourself more. For fuck's sake.

"Ah, christ," Bo swore, "Out wit' it, would'ya?" To lessen the inevitable sting of his harsh words, Bo said, "Ya' know I ain't gonna' say no, so jus' ask me, huh?"

It worked, somewhat. In part did it only make you more desperate to pull away, though it also made you want his presence more. Oh, the power he had... "When you're done, can we go and cuddle? Please, I just want to feel close to you."

Bo's eyes lit up at the prospect of holding his boyfriend in his arms once more. So many days passed with only late at night snuggles and early morning embraces and with nothing in between to fuel either of you, but tonight was going to end up being an evening in bed, just you and Bo and a locked door, some snacks and all the touch in the world. "I reckon we c'n do that, yeah. Ya' gotta' eat first, though. Ain't pickin' ya' up if ya' pass out from no food." There was a warning if you had ever heard one, and you wisely decided to listen. Between the coffee you had made for the both of you and the dishes you had bought down, you were both well and truly satiated physically and now all the both of you wanted was to get home and to get into bed together. It was a tradition well loved between the two of you and it made days like this almost worth it. Almost. Bo was always softer and gentler with you when you were feeling like this, though he was still gruff and rude at times.

Finally, finally, the both of you managed to get up to the house with the plates and cups in tow (and unceremoniously dumped by Bo into the sink. Did they break? Maybe, who cared? He sure as fuck didn't) and into the bedroom. When the door locked behind you both, you exhaled deeply and sunk into the mattress. Oh, but waging a war inside your mind was exhausting. Bo chuckled, the sound dry and without humour. A response to hide the fact that he didn't know how to respond. You wanted Bo and you wanted cuddles, to have your preferred love language fulfilled. Without opening your eyes did you raise your arms above your head, calling Bo to you without having to say anything. He knew you too well for that, and the same was true in the reverse.

"Shush, it's okay," Bo ducked down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before he moved away again to strip down to his underwear. "You want pyjamas or just your underwear?"

You lowered your arms and shrugged but Bo tapped your elbow in a silent warning, which prompted you to ask for your underwear and help Bo to strip you off. Your clothes were throw haphazardly around the room, a material trail for you to blush over tomorrow when you were more awake and decidedly less overwhelmed. Finally, you and Bo climbed into bed together, legs entangled and bodies pressed tightly together. Fingers smoothed over the back of your head and your own fingers dove into his chestnut curls as you breathed in the scent of gas, cigarettes and something so Bo that it made you want to cry again, though you didn't. You didn't want to think or feel anymore. You just wanted Bo.

He heard you, he heard you, and he said, "M'here, Felix. Ain't goin' nowhere. Family, huh? Y're my partner and I ain't leavin' ya. No matter how much you tell y'reself otherwise." To punctuate his point did he tap your temple and then press his forehead against yours, tugging you closer to him underneath the covers. "I got'cha, Felix."

"I love you, Bo."

Bo raised his head with a sleepy smile and pressed his lips so hard to yours that you could feel the outline of his teeth against your skin. You knew what he was saying and it warmed you from the inside out.

I love you too.

[pretoriafics]

Russian Roulette - Pt. 7

I think this one is the most cutest until now.

In this series, you will find: Alternative Universe, Soulmate plot, Angst, Fluff. In this chapter, you will find: You were actually right about Derek's location, which makes things a lot weirder for you. However, you can forget about it a little by spending time with him. Word count: 1.806 Pairings: Reader x Platonic! Scott and Stiles; Reader x Derek Original characters of this chapter: None. Warnings: English is not my main language <3 Yeah, it was based on Russian Roulette by Rihanna Russian Roulette series: Chapter Six | Chapter Eight RUSSIAN ROULETTE MASTERLIST TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

Following your senses, you were driving to the old Hale house. Your hands were shaking in nervousness and fear, and your eyes were wet with tears that trace a path in your face. You are completely terrified, and the scenes of the meeting with Peter and Stiles - to confirm if Derek is really trapped in the old Hale house - were running through your mind.

"Yeah," Stiles said, directing his gaze from the laptop to you, scared "(Y/N)'s hunch is right."

"Of course it is right..." Peter said, looking at you.

You were shivering of fear. You didn't have an idea of what is happening to you, and that was really scary. It could be anything!

Stiles approaches you, so scared as you.

"How did you know?"

"I-I didn't know, Stiles. I just had that dream, and..."

"Do you felt something in the full moon?"

"No! No, I'm completely human, I'm pretty sure about it."

"So what's happening?"

"I don't know!"

Peter walked far from both of you, and he looks to Stiles.

"Stay here, Stilinski. And you" Peter points his finger to you, throwing you the keys of his car "I'll be waiting for you there. I could tell you where the house is, but I know you'll be able to find it yourself."

And there you are: Driving Peter's car. He was right, after all. You saw the house far away, and you park the car. You saw Scott running from Allison's arrows, while the woman of your dream - Kate - was looking proudly for her. You could help Scott, but you need him to maintain they distracted. Knowing Scott would listen to you, you said:

"Scott, keep them busy. I'll take care of Derek."

You wipe away the tears from your face and breathe in, trying to feel something. Following your instincts, you find an old gate and opens it, getting into a dimly lit corridor. You recognize that door: It was the door from your dream.

Trying to avoid the memories of your dream, you open the door. A man with a baseball bat turns himself in your direction, clearly not expecting to see you there. Derek was trapped by his wrists. The trapped werewolf and the room were just like as they had been in your dream.

The man narrowed his eyes for you.

"You are not with the Argents."

"No, I'm not."

The man hits you with the baseball bat, but you dodge his attack when you duck. You hit his nose with your elbow, and he staggered backward with his hand on his bleeding nose.

"Argh! You broke my nose!"

"Sorry!"

In a complete rage, he moves his bat again, trying to hit you. With your both hands you hold the bat and kick his knee, making him fell with one of his knees on the floor. You pull his bat to you, letting the man unarmed. Then, you hit the man with the bat on his head, and he fell on the floor, unconscious. You grope the hunter's body until you find the key that would set Derek free. When you found it, you ran to him.

"I was not expecting you here," He said to you while you were unlocking the chains that held him "but good job."

"Scott said you are with Peter now. I thought he had killed your sister."

Derek deviates his eyes from yours and walks in the door's direction.

"He was just out of control."

"Hey" You hold his wrist, and he looks at you, impatient "Look, I know we don't know each other so long, but I know Peter is everything that remained of your family. But you need to be careful, Derek. Are you sure Peter didn't kill your sister for his own benefit?"

His thoughtful green eyes ran through the room. Then, you could feel the rage in his eyes.

"She was an Alpha."

You left his wrist and cross your arms.

"This is a good reason, don't you think?"

Derek let out a long sigh.

"Thank you. I owe you one."

You gave him a soft smile.

"That's my line, Hale."

You and Derek finally arrive at the facade of the old Hale house. You saw Allison's dad unconscious on the floor, and a few roars inside of the old house. Derek did not hesitate to enter the house, and you ran in Chris Argent's direction. You put yourself on your knees close to him, putting your hand on his face.

"Wake up, please, please, don't be dead."

You approach your ear on his chest and, yeah, you can hear his heart beating.

"Thank god!"

You hold his jacket and drag him to a safe place. Suddenly, you saw Scott being thrown out of the house and falling on the floor. Then, Peter walks out of the house, and you pull your gun from inside your jacket, pointing to him.

"Why are you pointing this thing to me? I thought we were family now."

Peter approaches you and holds your wrist with such strength, that you let your gun fell in pain. Afterward, he holds your neck and throws you through the air. Everything got black after this.

This time, you are not in your bedroom.

You open your eyes and find yourself lying on a bed. It was still night outside - you saw through the large windows that let in the soft light of the moon. You sat on the bed and look around.

You had never been that place, and that was not a dream.

You stand up from the bed and walk through the room, trying to find out where you are. Then, you find a spiral ladder. You want to find out what this place is, so you go downstairs and start to listen to a familiar voice.

"Yeah, she's okay. She just woke up, don't worry. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye."

Derek was in front of a desk, back to you. When he finished the call, he turns and looks at you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

He gave you a soft smile, and you remembered the day you met each other in the car accident. You return the smile, feeling your face burning while wondering if he remembered that day too.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Oh, that smile... You felt your heart fail a beat for a second. Well, he was pretty handsome, and you couldn't understand why Stiles complains about him so much. You could feel kindness on Derek, after all. He took care of Scott and Stiles too, the same you do.

"Well, look at you, saving me for the second time."

You cross his arms looking at him. He shook his head in denial, without wipe his smile away from his face.

"You were not in danger. Actually, I think you can handle yourself."

"Oh, really? Thank God, I don't wanna be a princess in danger."

"You're not. You're pretty brave."

Oh Gosh, you can't stop of feel your cheeks burning.

"Thank you." You said, looking down at your feet. You didn't remember any guy having this effect on you. Actually, it is hard to find a man who doesn't make you feel bored. Trying to control your own feelings, you look at him. "What happened to Peter?"

"He's dead. I had killed him." Derek said, sitting on the couch. "You don't have to worry about him."

You look at him with regret. After all, you know he is completely by himself.

"Oh..." You sat on the couch, close to him. "I'm sorry."

His face was serious this time.

"It's okay. I did what I have to."

"I know. I think I can understand you partly. I know you're alone and completely by yourself, and I am too. I don't have anyone here, and I'm far away from home. It's lonely sometimes. But, look: You did the right thing."

"I'm used to loneliness."

"I think you don't have to. Actually, I think you shouldn't. No one should be used to loneliness, you know?"

You and Derek had more things in common than both of you thought. The independence, courage, loyalty, loneliness... But you had a thing he didn't have: You were full of light and had a strong will to live. Derek, on other hand, was just surviving day by day. He doesn't know what it's like to have a light life, and you could show it to him.

"I think it's a fair way to think, but not so smart." He said, crossing his arms and raising the walls around him, who would avoid you to come too close of his heart.

"Why you think that?"

"I think it could get you weak."

"But thinking that way isn't living. It's just survival."

"When you are like me, it's all you think about."

Your heart ached a little bit. Well, in fact, survival definitely was a thing he needs to worry about. There were a lot of hunters out there wanting his head. But, then, you got an idea.

"Well, I think you can get the best of two worlds: Living and still survive."

He arched his eyebrows, with a soft smile on his lips.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, and I'll show you."

You stood up from the couch and goes to the laptop on the table. You put on Spotify a song: Garota de Ipanema, from Tom Jobim.

"You know, Derek," You said, approaching him and taking his wrist, pulling him so he stood up "I know how to dance a, uh.. how do you say it? Balloon dancing?"

Derek stood up, letting escape a weak chuckle, finding your English mistake really funny.

"I think you want to say 'Ballroom dancing'"

Oh. You felt your cheeks burning again. You absolutely hate when you say something wrong. Derek, otherwise, found it cute.

"God, those words are exactly the same!"

"No, it's not."

"Balloon? Ballroom?" You tried to say, failing to recognize the difference between both of them. "Okay, I'll call it 'Balloon dancing'. God, Derek! I'll need to teach English to a native speaker?" You said, laughing and a little bit embarrassed.

He let out a low chuckle, following you to the middle of the living room.

"What kind of 'Balloon dancing' will you teach me?"

"I'd learned to dance the samba before learning ballet, So... Let's go, I'll teach you samba."

That night, the loft was filled with loud laughs and music. Both of you had danced all night long, letting all of your worries hidden in the most deeper parts of your minds. The truth was simple: No one of you really wanted that night was over. It was not just because both of you were having fun. It was because both of you felt alive.

Derek just can't wait to feel it one more time.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ TWO ROADS ❜

with Canche and Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 2k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

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“Please, don't do that. Let me go”. With both hands raised to the man, you tried to push him away.

“No”. He just said with a naughty smile drawn on his lips, before grabbing your wrists to lift you up over his shoulder like a heavy bag, walking to the main room of the house.

“Let me go!” You shouted stirring over him, until you felt your body falling down over the mattress.

Sitting up on your forearms, you blow into a rebellious tuft of hair in the middle of your face, frowning. You couldn't barely breathe because of the efforts, watching the man crawling above the bed.

“I swear I'm gonna kill you”.

“Will you?” He asked, twisting his neck slightly, pouncing on you to tickle you on both sides.

“Canche, stop!” You screamed between laughs, trying to catch his hands while he made himself some space between your legs.

“C'mon, five minutes more, princesa de los Mayas”. The mexican surrounded you with his strong arms, resting his face on your stomach.

“My father is gonna kill us, if he finds out”.

“Just five minutes more”. He begged almost in a whisper, closing his eyes.

“I hate you”. You growled rolling your eyes, pretending that you didn't want to spend some time more together.

“I'm glad to know that it's something reciprocated”. The Mayan muttered, moving some inches until reaching your lips.

Tangling your legs with his and placing your hands on his head, you deepened the kiss, keeping the slow pace but welcoming his tongue inside your mouth. Every time you were this close, he had the same effect on you like the first time, bristling your skin and needing for more. You could assure that he was so in love with you, as you were with him. And you would like to shout it to the rooftops. But that wasn't an option. Not for the moment, at least.

“I know that… you can't call me”. You said caressing his neck with one of your hands, using your nails to made him some sweet tickles. “But… two weeks is too much. Maybe… I don't know… a text, to know that you're okay”.

“I will try, mi amor. I swear it”. He replied with a low tone of voice, accommodating his head on the pillow. “And when I come back, we will disappear for some days. We can go to the beach, if you want”.

“Sounds good, yeah”. You nodded assorted on the way of his lips moving, totally spellbound hearing his voice.

The man took back his hands to undone the clasp of the fine gold chain, with a small medal of the Virgen de Guadalupe. Silent, and very focused on his new task, he placed it around your neck. You knew how much he loved that necklace, being a gift from his mother who passed away some years ago. Giving it to you meant more than anyone could imagine, and you would swear you were about to cry if he hasn't kissed you again.

You have never been a believer, but you started to pray every night for him, to keep him safe and alive. It has been two long weeks, with a trip that started in Southern Cali to Stockton and Oakland, continuing to Portland. And after that, back to Santo Padre. One of the trips more dangerous of Mayans history, with a shipment of AK-47, even if they were accompanied by some SOA charters. But the day of their return has come and, with it, all your men. At least, you know it when you see through the front window of your car all the bikes parked there. The first you find is your father's. Next to it, Canche's.

Almost jumping out from your seat, you run like never before to the inside of the clubhouse. But the situation that welcomes you is chaotic. You open the door on time to watch Bishop tackling your boyfriend. A storm of hits and kicks is around everywhere, while the other Mayans stare at you almost frowning. You don't need to be a genius to know what is happening. Grabbing Ibarra's gun, being aware that no one is going to stop the fight, you point at the roof to fire it. The bullet impacting on it, calls everyone's attention. The two men on the floor are breathing violently, blood on their faces and angry gestures. Then, you point at them.

“The next one throwing a punch, juro por la Virgen that I'm gonna shot his brain off”.

The men separate from each other, standing up over their feet and shaking their clothes.

“How much time have you been together?” Your father asks, cleaning a brief red thread flowing from his bottom lip. His eyes are filled with rage.

“Why does it matter, dad?”

“Because I asked you for one last thing, and you shitted on it”.

“Do you think I made it on purpose? That I chose it?”

“You betrayed me. And you lied to me”.

“For God's sake… Ain't gonna talk about it in front of all these men”.

“We don't have anything else to talk about. You already took a decision”.

You just nod, one time. Stretching your arm to Ibarra, you give him back his gun.

“Doing the same shit that your mother did”.

His whisper doesn't go unnoticed to your ears, taking a step ahead when he's about to unlock himself inside the Templo.

“You pushed mom away, just like you are doing with me. If you are alone, if you are losing the only people who really love you, it's because of you, padre. Because of your jealousy, because of your inflexibility, because of your egocentrism complex”.

Bishop doesn't turn, but suddenly stops his heavy feet.

“(Y/N), don't talk to your father like that”. Canche says, frowning at you.

“Truth fucks you up, right?” You say raising your chin. “Love doesn't mean to hurt, dad. And sometimes I feel that you stab my chest. That you suffocate me. I feel alone the whole time, and you don't really know what it feels like, because I'm always by your side. But you weren't for me when I needed you the most. So don't blame me for choosing a man who cares about me, without asking anything back, over you”.

It has been the worst weeks of your life. You were sure that you were suddenly and inevitably falling into a dark depression, when you realized that you haven't gone out of Canche's house since you came. Mostly, you are tucked in his bed, grabbing the pillow as strongly as you can, wetting it with your tormented tears. A prospect was accompanying you all the time that your boyfriend was away from your side.

“How is the kid?”

Taza gets up from his chair, before Canche can leave the Templo. He turns around crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who asks?”

No one replies.

“She isn't happy, if you wanna know it”. His eyes are on Bishop's. “She cries most of the day. Hardly eats anything. And I can't remember how her laugh sounds”.

Your boyfriend is about to continue his steps, but he stops again.

“And I had to take her to the hospital some days ago, because she has a panic attack”.

“Maybe if you di—”.

“Don't you dare to add me in your equation, Bishop. This is your fault, not mine. I care about her. I love her. And I want to spend my life with her. I'm not trying to steal your daughter from you. I'm not asking her to leave you. I was even about to delegate my position as Presidente, and ask for a change of charter to be close to her. To come to Santo Padre, so she wouldn't have to leave her family”. His voice sounds firmly, blunt. “You are losing your daughter because of you, not because of me”.

Canche doesn't want to waste more time, having a road of one hour and a half to his house. The only thing he wants right now is come back, be with you, and try to comfort your pain somehow. So he doesn't notice that the crew follows him to the outside, in the meantime that he reaches his motorcycle.

His way back home feels like an eternity, parking in front of the porch, and almost jumping out from the top of it. The prospect is waiting close to the door, shrugging his shoulders to let him know that nothing has changed. You heard the door getting opened, turning your head over the pillow, watching him coming into the room. You would like to smile, as every time you see him, but it's like if your brain doesn't send the order to your lips. Lying down and embracing you over the mattress, filling your face with a bunch of kisses.

“I've missed you, mi vida”. He whispers onto your lips, before caressing them. “I took a day off, so I will be here with you the whole time”.

You can't help but sink your face under his chin, letting him hold you tightly. That's the only moment you feel somewhat better, knowing that he's not going to kick out your ass. Knowing that he loves you unconditionally.

“How was him?” You whisper.

“Fucked like you”. He just replies, kissing your head. “But I know that he's going to come today, you will see. I know it”.

He wasn't wrong. Actually, Canche is never wrong. You suddenly wake up because of the loud roar of an engine. It's coming closer, accentuating over others behind it. The bed is empty, and the room is almost in darkness. Rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, you get up from the mattress, guiding your steps to the living room as soon as you hear your boyfriend greeting your father. Sticking your head out the corner of the hallway, your eyes find him before anyone else there. He looks like shit. His beard is longer, scruffy. The two black marks under his eyes tell you that he hasn't slept much more than you.

Canche moves his head in silence, indicating the crew to leave the house, so you would have some intimacy and time alone. Bishop takes a step ahead, trying to reach you, trying to say something. But he can't. Doubting, he walks a little closer. Slowly. Hoping that you don't turn him down. Raising a hand towards your left, he holds it to push you into his arms. Surrounding your body, he hugs you with that kind of love and warmth that only your father can transmit you. All the sadness and the pain has gone. The fear of losing him, inside your chest, isn't oppressing it anymore.

“I'm sorry”. He says in a whisper, tightening his grip around you.

“Me too…”

“You don't have to, because you were right. This is my fault, mi princesa”.

He pulls himself away from you, enough to find your reddened eyes, about to cry again.

“I know you have to leave the nest, but I'm not ready. And I will never be. But if you have to do it, I'm good knowing that Canche is by your side”.

Leaning, your father kisses your forehead, pressing his lips on it for some long seconds.

“Just let me take care of you tonight, please”.

You just nod in silence. You couldn't say ‘no’. You need him, you didn't know it could be this hard to live without him. It's not the same when he's on a trip, than when he's just away from you. Closing your arms around him, you hide your face on his chest, like you used to do when you were a child waking up from a nightmare.

“I will always love you, pa'. No matter who else is in my life. I will always love you more than anyone”.

“I know, princesa. I do. And I will always do it”.

[polarishymn-blog]

I'm bored so here is another theory. Be warned HERE BE SPOILERS!

Tacking on to the Elgar'nan theory here:

I discussed how I think the Evanuris were originally spirits. Well folks I have a personal head canon for my Inquisitor. Let me make this clear MY LAVELLAN INQUISITOR. NOT SAYING ANYONE HAS TO AGREE. I JUST USE THIS WHEN I PLAY THROUGH.

Ok? Ok.

Get your tinfoil hats on. This one is a doozy.

Lavellan is the spirit of sacrifice.

I hear people now like "that's ridiculous." Give me a chance to explain before you scroll on.

The Inquisitor is in the fade after being part of an explosion that kills EVERYONE ELSE. Even Corypheus takes a big ol L on this one.

Everyone is dead. What happens to Divine Justinia? A spirit that identifies with her so much it takes on her persona and memories. As does Compassion who becomes Cole. So we have a precedence for this.

Cole shows us that a spirit can take physical form. Justinia shows us that a spirit can fully believe they are that person. And the ancient elves just...these guys...looking at you Solas.

Var lath vir suledin!

I digress. So a spirit can not only retain the thoughts and memories of a person but take physical form.

"Then how come she doesn't know she is a spirit?" You ask?

Simple the spirit doesn't want to remember. It was a traumatic event. The person they identified with, quite possibly has been watching for some time, died a horrible death trying to save Justinia from that red lyrium blight infused ballsack. They basically ran into a situation any of us would have noped out of. All to try and save (for Lavellan) a woman that made no nevermind to them.

Instead our intrepid little elf is like "nah I should definitely fuck with that big scary guy and grab this clearly magical item."

In the immortal words of Sandal "BOOM!"

Everything goes to shit. Our lady elf wakes in the Fade with no memory how she got there. She recovers her memory later but not all of it. After the explosion there isn't shit until she wakes up.

Sus.

So she wakes up and spends the rest of her time throwing herself into one hellscape after another. Putting herself in constant danger and giving up whatever life they had before to save the world. Spoiler: and her fucking arm. Thank Solas. You lying manipulative beautiful bastard you.

Var lath vir suledin!

Speaking of that wolfish sex pistol...he has some...odd dialouge.

Solas: spirit wish to join then living. Demons are that wish gone wrong.

Interesting. He doesn't say they can't. Cole is proof they can. So lets look at some Cole and Solas exchanges:

Solas: The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you.

Cole: Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Solas: Yes, exactly. Deliberately crossing the Veil requires that a spirit form will, personality.

Solas: That concept of self gives a spirit the chance to maintain its nature.

So according to Cole a spirit that comes through willingly doesn't necessarily become a demon. Solas follows up with a spirit needs the will to do so and to form a personality. If the spirit has a blueprint...say...a person they identify with...they could assume that person's personality and indomitable will and focus.

His voice....sigh.

Let's move on to:

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it.

Cole: When did you see it before?

Solas: I did not say that I had.

Cole: No, you didn't. It's harder to hear, sometimes. Sorry.

Solas: Good luck, Cole. You have taken a difficult road.

Ya'll Cole can see/sense that Solas has seen this before. And he also knows who and what Solas is. Our murder bebe all but outs him several times. After Tresspasser you see the breadcrumbs clearly. This exchange could on the surface just be about them but as Solas is also a spirit taken form I find it interesting he doesn't say "You where once like me Solas." If he doesn't out him here he may not out the Inquisitor.

Next! Ah...the balcony scene. WHY MUST YOU BE SO DAMN CHARMING!

Solas: Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your... spirit?"

Lavellan: If it had do you really think I'd have notice?

Solas: No. That's an excellent point.

Lavellan: Why do you ask?

Solas: You show a wisdom I have not seen since... since my deepest journies into the ancient memories of the Fade.

Solas: If the Dailsh could raise someone with a spirit like yours. Have I misjudged them?

Ok...why is he emphasizing her spirit. Not soul. Not you. SPIRIT! He asks if the mark has affected her. But it could be his way of prying information without "hey bitch are you aware you are a spirit. I know crazy, right?" Js he does this "I like your spirit" talk more than once.

I enter into evidence a snippet from the heart shattering breakup conversation:

Solas: You have a rare and marvelous spirit.

I'm not crying. You're crying. DRINK MY TEARS PATRICK WEEKES YOU BEAUTIFUL BEING!

A rare and marvelous spirit huh...Cole what was it he said to you?

Cole: I didn't know there were spirits of wisdom.

Solas: There are few. Spirits form as a reflection of this world and its passions.

Solas: We will never lack for spirits of rage, or hunger, or desire. The world gives them plenty to mirror.

Solas: The gentler spirits are far more rare. We can ill afford the loss of even one spirit of wisdom, or faith...

Solas: Or compassion.

Or sacrifice! If compassion and wisdom are rare. How rare would sacrifice be?

Solas says the Inquisitor changed everything for him. He is someone who is ready to do whatever it takes to restore his people. Surly he would value sacrifice. If he came across a rare and marvelous spirit of sacrifice would he not at least be intrigued? Or inspired?

Let's face it he is an artist. His lady would definitely be his muse. Especially after she accidentally gives him permission to destroy the world.

...Dammit Lavellan.

Finally, why didn't our precious lying egg not mention this? When the Inquisitor is having the very terse elven conversation and the city elves are brought up this is the dialogue:

Solas: Why? What would it benefit some poor man in a Ferelden alieanage to learn his ancestors strode the land like gods? It would only make him bitter. Or inspire him to take a foolish risk and get himself killed.

Lavellan: You have decided his reaction for him.

Solas: Perhaps I have.

Clearly wolf boy has no problem keeping information from someone he thinks will only serve to harm them. If the Inquisitor knew they were a spirit perhaps Solas would think their reaction would be troublesome. Or even dangerous.

There is more but this is already ridiculously long. All this is to say my Lavellan was a real elf. She was killed during the explosion and a spirit of sacrifice identified with her so much she became her. The elf Solas falls in love with is (in my rp) like him. A rare spirit that became flesh and blood. She chose to be real like Cole can. Her lack of memory of the moment it happened is both self serving and part of the effects of becoming real. I know it is most likely all bs but it makes for an interesting thought.

Solas is the force that will end Thedas. Lavellan may be the sacrifice needed to stop it.

I hope you enjoyed this rant nobody asked for.

Oh and:

SOLAS! VAR LATH VIR SULEDIN!

[danceworshipper]

Tessa Chiva HPHM - Profile [Redone]

(information is as of sixth year - same universe as Gracie and River)

Identity

Name: Tessa Gracie Chiva

Gender: Female

Age: 16

Birthday: August 17th, 1973 at 3:37 am (leo)

Species: Human/Witch

Blood Status: Pureblood

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Alignment: Lawful Good

Ethnicity: White - German, English

Nationality: British

Residence: Chiva Manor, a heavily warded house in the wizarding part of the English countryside

Personality Type: ISFP-T (the adventurer - that's ironic)

The Mage

Wand: 13 1/4 inches of cherry wood encasing a dragon heartstring, flexible. The wand is dark red and slightly thicker than the average wand, with a smooth handle molded precisely to her hand

Animagus: Sparrow Hawk

Misc. Magical Abilities: Legilimens, moderate strength, with weak Occlumency

Boggart Form: Gracie, angry and coldly saying that she'll never love Tessa because Tessa is weak and beneath her

Riddikulus Form: Gracie deaged to a toddler, saying the same words but meaning them less

Amortentia (how she smells): Tessa would smell like sugar, strong deodorant, and salt water

Amortentia (what she smells): Tessa smells metal, strawberry kiwi drinks, and nail polish (River)

Patronus: Lioness

Patronus Memory: the first time she and Gracie were ever allowed to go wandering in the woods on their own. They found a creek and spent the afternoon barefoot, eating berries and splashing each other

Mirror of Erised: Her family together and happy as if nothing ever happened

Specialized/Favorite Spells:

- Aguamenti

- Vermillious

- Orchideous

- Visus Aqua (a spell for Quidditch to see in the rain)

- Revelio

Appearance

(picture made using the zepeto app)

Height: 5'6"

Weight: 124 lbs

Physique: Skinny, slightly wider hips than Gracie. More physically muscular than her sister as well

Eye Color: Army green

Hair Color: Dark brown

Skin Tone: Pale but human looking. Has spattered freckles around her nose

Body Modifications: Two piercings in each earlobe and a cartilage piercing in her left ear

Scarring: Various small scars on knees from childhood, nothing major (yet), will end up with faint scars all over from the final fight with R

Inventory:

- Her wand

- Her father's old watch, not worn but kept in her purse

- Around twenty Galleons

- A poem about her from River folded in her pocket

Fashion: Tessa is willing to sacrifice comfort for fashion. When not in her uniform, Tessa is usually in a skirt of some kind with a cute fitted top and possibly a stylish jacket. She wears either flats or wedged shoes. Her hair is kept in two braids or low pigtails. When she's being athletic, she wears black fitted tracksuit pants and either a loose tank top or a Slytherin sweatshirt, with her hair in a tight messy bun. She wears small gold hoop earrings and a gold cartilage stud, and in later school years a peridot ring that was a gift from River. For makeup, she only wears lip gloss and mascara.

Allegiances

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Affiliations/Organizations:

- Chiva Family

- Black Family

Professions:

- Current student and Slytherin Quidditch Captain

- Future Quidditch Player for the Montrose Magpies

- Future advocate for creature rights

Hogwarts Information

Class Grades:

- Astronomy: O

- Care of Magical Creatures: O

- Charms: O

- Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

- Divination: E

- Flying: O

- Herbology: E

- History of Magic: O

- Potions: O

- Transfiguration: O

Quidditch: Chaser, team captain from fifth year on

Extra Curriculars:

- Dueling Club

- Assistant for Kettleburn

- Weekly Legilimency lessons from Snape

Favorite Professors:

- Professor Kettleburn: Tessa adores his wacko personality and enthusiasm for creatures. He's encouraged her whenever she feels hopeless and is a surprisingly good listener

- Professor Flitwick: The number of times Tessa has nearly cried in his class is insane. She used to be worried about being too unskilled at magic and her nerves made her fail a spell at first, but Flitwick was gentle and talked her through it until she was one of the best in the class. Her bad nerves left in third year, but he's still more gentle with her

Least Favorite Professors:

- Professor Trelawney: Tessa is good at Divination. She enjoys Divination. What she does not enjoy is Trelawney acting like a freak and driving people out of the class. Tessa learns much more from her textbook than from the professor

- Professor Snape: Yes, he's her head of house, but he's an asshole. He's insulting to her and many others and makes her feel more worthless than she already does. If she didn't have Gracie and Penny to help her learn outside of class, she would have failed his O.W.L. Her Legilimency lessons are the worst part of her week

Relationships

Twin Sister: Gracie Tessa Chiva

- Gracie is only eight and a half minutes older than her, but Tessa sometimes feels like Gracie is years older

- She regrets quitting the vaults because she feels like she and Gracie are different people now

- Tessa still blames herself for Gracie's curse. She can't remember the incident, but her wand was two inches from her hand when she woke up and she had no injuries besides the concussion that she thinks is just from falling, so she believes she failed her sister

- Tessa desperately wants her sister's approval and doesn't realize just how much her sister loves her

- She wishes she could do something to protect Gracie for a change

- They were super close as kids and grew apart in the later school years

- All Tessa wants to do most of the time is latch onto Gracie and never let her go into danger again

Older Brother: Vance Riley Chiva

- This bastard

- Vance always favored Gracie

- Tessa still loved him, but she would sometimes feel excluded

- Vance did in fact leave her a few memories, but they were locked in the same box with Gracie's and when Tessa saw how many more Gracie got, she refused to watch hers

- When Vance is freed in fifth year but leaves again without seeing her first, Tessa shatters the picture of him, her and Gracie. It's repaired the next morning, and stays fixed until the end of sixth year when Gracie shatters it too

- Tessa hates Vance

- When he dies in place of her, she realizes she never hated him. She loved him and just wanted him to love her

Younger Cousin: Aiden Carter Darkling

- Aiden is the son of Rachel Chiva, Jason's sister. Rachel and Aiden's father divorced while he was still young, but it was relatively amicable and he comes around for holidays

- Tessa never payed the kid much attention when they were younger, but after he started Hogwarts she took him under her wing a lot

- Aiden comes to her for advice when he has his first crush, when he's nervous about a test, or simply needs a hug. Tessa gets to be a big sister and she loves it

- She's way closer to Aiden than Gracie is, and Aiden isn't hesitant to tell Tessa that he likes her far better. It makes her feel good

Mother: Clarissa Vanessa Black

- Tessa loves her mother, but she doesn't agree with her on a lot of things

- She tries her hardest to make her mother proud, because she knows she's the only "decent" child Clarissa has left

- She actually suggested a contract marriage in hopes of making her mother happy. She was really confused when Clarissa forcefully shut the idea down, not realizing all that her mother went through in her own past

- When Tessa is in her coma in seventh year, she hears her mother go insane (it's what wakes her up) and realizes just how much Clarissa loves her

- Tessa takes much longer to figure out Clarissa and Margaret than Gracie does

- She keeps better in contact with her mother throughout her adulthood than Gracie

- Family dinners are awkward but hey, they're still family

Father: Jason Harvey Chiva

- Tessa, like Gracie, admired Jason a lot as a child

- She only visited his Auror office a few times, because while she thought it was cool she wasn't interested in it as a career

- Tessa didn't see him murder their family friend and didn't believe it when Jason's partner Thomas came to tell her and Clarissa

- She still can't quite believe it, and she misses him a lot, which is why she carries his watch with her *cough cough daddy issues cough*

- The day Gracie has to kill Jason, Tessa destroys the watch

- He tries to kill Margaret in front of Tessa's young daughter Octavia, and that's when Tessa fully believes that Jason lost his mind

Ex Boyfriend: Barnaby Lee

- They met in first year (obviously, they're in the same house), but Tessa never paid him any attention

- It was only in second year when she and Liz were allowed to start getting early lessons from Kettleburn that she started noticing him

- Barnaby was a character during these early lessons

- He hadn't actually signed up for them, but he heard Liz talk about them and just assumed they were open to anyone

- Kettleburn didn't care obviously, he's a bit unstable anyway

- Barnaby would always carry the heavy stuff and Tessa's raging puberty hormones took one look at the muscles and said "heyyyyyyyyy"

- Then of course she actually started talking to him, and dear fucking god was he dumb. But then she talked to him more and he actually wasn't? He was kinda smart in a weird way? And really really nice?

- She never told him she liked him, and by the end of the year he was starting to slip under Merula's control

- Tessa was the one to try and get him to think for himself in year three. She's also the one who dueled him, and she lost miserably, but she stood back up whenever he knocked her down and he admired that. A few weeks later, he asked her out to Hogsmeade

- Gracie was pissed but Tessa didn't care that much

- They were a super cute couple and all of Slytherin (besides her dorm mates) shipped them so hard

- They ended up growing apart in fourth year and deciding they're better off as friends

Love Interest: River Mund

- As of sixth year, they are not together, though it's pretty obvious they both fancy each other

- River is an exchange student from Ilvermorny who arrives the same day as Alanza. Tessa is made to be their tour guide, and while showing them around she can't help but notice that this (very handsome) new boy seems really stressed out. She assumes it's from being so far from home and tries to be encouraging, but he doesn't say a single word the entire time

- River ends up staying in the Slytherin dorms, and Tessa watches him all the time (just out of curiosity of course). He almost never talks to anyone, and is very jumpy when someone gets too close

- After about a month of this, Tessa decides to sit down at the same table as him while doing homework. He seems almost scared of her, but after a week it becomes normal, and she hears his voice for the first time when he asks her for help on his CoMC essay. Another week, and when River packs up his things to go to the dorms, he leaves her a folded up piece of parchment containing a poem he wrote about her

- Tessa starts noticing how often River sneaks into the Forbidden Forest, and gets curious enough to follow him. This is how she discovers he's a vampire - a rarer subspecies theorized to be stemmed from partial vampire breeding together

- River is horrified and thinks she'll hate him since he hates himself. He wasn't born a vampire. His family illegally paid a vampire to break into the hospital and change him to save him from cancer without any input from him. It's why he wanted to come to Hogwarts, to get away from them

- Tessa is scared, obviously, but she tries her best not to show it because he had just started to open up and she didn't want to lose the progress they had been making. When she tells him she's not scared of him River doesn't look like he believes her, but he's so relieved she's trying that he hugs her

- They very quickly become much closer after that, and Tessa realizes that she might be in too deep when she shoves her wrist in his face for him to drink from when he weakly confesses he hasn't had any blood in two weeks without a second thought

- He buys her the ring during January. He claims it's for being such a good friend, but Tessa hopes it's because he likes her (they're both so oblivious)

- They'll get together in seventh year over Christmas break. They both stay behind at the school, and end up confessing while sitting in front of the fire in the Slytheirn common room

Best Friend: Liz Tuttle

- Tessa and Liz met in first year, the first night in the dorms

- Liz, being her awkward self, asked slightly too loudly if anyone wanted to discuss the Fwooper

- Tessa did indeed want to discuss the Fwooper

- Boom, best friends

- Tessa tries being vegan like Liz but can't take it, and reverts to being vegetarian. She's not exactly good at that either, but she never eats meat in front of Liz (at home is fair game)

- She and Liz spend a lot of their free time outside, sneaking into the forest even

- On an assignment from Kettleburn, they accidentally discover the Room of Requirement and now spend free time during bad weather in there

- Liz constantly reassures her that she's not a bad sister for stepping back from the vaults

Rival: Skye Parkin

- They may have been teammates, but Tessa and Skye HATED each other. It really threw off the team dynamics for a while

- Tessa almost quit because Skye made practices miserable for her, and this is when she and Erika ended up friends. Erika convinced her to stay on the team and make Quidditch miserable for Skye instead, and even helped train her

- Orion picking Tessa as his successor and not Skye (who was a year older and more experienced) made Skye so mad she broke her broom and quit. Tessa couldn't help being happy about that. Skye brings out her inner pettiness

Enemy: Vance Riley Chiva

- Tessa is just so sure he's lost all humanity

- She's mad at him for getting them into this mess in the first place

- She swears the next time she sees him, she's going to smack him

- She doesn't get the chance, nor does she get to say anything at all

Dormmates:

- Gracie Chiva

- Liz Tuttle

- Rowan Khanna: they're friends, but very casually, as Rowan is Gracie's best friend

- Merula Snyde: they're not friends, nor will they ever be, but they try very hard not to argue for Gracie's sake

- Ismelda Murk: they too are not friends, but they study History of Magic together because they have similar studying styles and both find the subject interesting

- Colette Belrose: see below

Pets:

- Ruby, the family Crup

- Clara, Vance's toad (she's more Gracie's pet)

- Elaura, a shared owl

- Lemmy, a moke

- various creatures in the reserve that Tessa and Liz coparent

Closest Canon Friends

- Chiara Lobosca: the werewolf quest? Tessa did that. She adores Chiara's kindness and resilience, and frequently uses her Animagus to accompany her on full moons

- Diego Caplan: he helps train Tessa's magical strength. He was totally into her at first, but he calmed down and now they hang out a lot in and out of the Dueling Club

- Erika Rath: Training buddies with a healthy Quidditch rivalry. Tessa has even gotten Erika to come over to her house so they could hang out over the summer

Closest Noncanon Friends

- Gracie Chiva (Jacob's sibling canonically has no other siblings)

- Rosalie Sonnenschein: A German model one year older than her who attends Durmstrang. A first generation part Veela with a very strong natural allure that has men (and women) swooning

- Kyle Orchan: the Squib son of one of the shopkeepers at the clothing store Tessa frequents. He's the best listener Tessa has ever met and loves hearing about her magical adventures. He does sometimes get very sad hearing about this world he'll never be a part of, but he's too nice to ever mention it

- Colette Belrose (@gcldensnitch): Tessa met Colette their first night in the Slytherin dorms. Granted, Tessa spent most of that night talking to Liz, but she went to bed relatively early so Tessa struck up a conversation with Colette. They're super similar and plan to go on a tour of Europe one day. Colette helps Tessa step back and remember to breathe, and she loves her for it

(Storyline has to be in a different post because of tumblr's dumb text limit)

Future

Marriage and Children: Tessa and River get married at the age of twenty one, and almost immediately Tessa gets pregnant with her oldest daughter, Octavia. Her body reacts very negatively and she almost dies while giving birth, so she and River agree to not have any more children. Six years later, Tessa accidentally gets pregnant with twins, Meredith and Alexander. It's a terrifying experience, but all three of them live and the twins are healthy

Career: At the age of twenty two, Tessa is recruited for the Montrose Magpies after one of their scouts watches her casual group's practice. She takes a short break years later to have the twins, and they welcome her back when she joins back up. Her replacement was shit. Tessa gets better at International Apparation so that she and River can spend time in America, England, and Germany without interrupting their work schedules. After she eventually resigns from the team, she uses her "fame" to bring more attention to the petitions for creature rights

The Second Wizarding War:

- Tessa isn't in the country for the most part when the war starts up, though she stops bringing the kids when visiting her mother after it starts getting bad

- After Bill's attack she and River temporarily stay in England for their friends, having her kids stay with Merula and her and Gracie's kids

- She doesn't fight in the Battle of Hogwarts. She's too scared for both herself and Gracie, as if Tessa went to fight Gracie would follow

- Tessa finally discovers all of what happened when Gracie joined R, and how much she truly was one of them for a little while when Olivia Green suddenly enters the picture. That takes her a while to get over, but she's able to

Old Age and Death: Tessa dies at the age of 120 of natural causes, after Gracie, River, Liz, and basically all of her friends. When she gets too lonely, her soul gives up

Personality

- ambivert

- horribly insecure, not so much about her looks but her strength, both magical and physical

- a wee bit of a masochist, constantly pushes herself too hard

- has a good memory

- is good at strategy

- very very kind, even sometimes when someone doesn't deserve it

Misc Information

- Tessa is bilingual, fluent in both English and German

- From all her practicing, Tessa is an amazing cook/baker - River's drinking buddies absolutely love her for it

- She can sing beautifully, and can play simple songs on the piano

- Tessa's depression never quite goes away, but it never gets very bad

- She has pretty bad misophonia, which developed around age nine and got worse with the anxiety and depression

- She ends up with a doll collection that River is terrified of, so much so that she has to put charms around each one so he can't see them unless he focuses

- Tessa is a massive pasta hound

- She hates any drink that fizzes. It's very inconvenient considering she frequently attends parties with things like sparkling water and champagne

- Tessa likes pineapple pizza

- Her favorite color is green

- She's left handed like her siblings and her mother

- She loves thunderstorms

- Her favorite season is winter

- She loves going stargazing

- She has a weird obsession with water. If she's upset, the best thing to do is draw her a bath, and sometimes she'll fill a bowl and stick her hand in it while studying or reading

- She sweats a lot, both from being active and from unlucky genetics (hence why she smells like strong deodorant)

- Tessa doesn't exactly believe in aliens, but she's pretty sure we're not alone in the universe

[watch-grok-brainrot]

it's the 28th!! there is not much time left of the year, is there? i'm gonna send you a couple more asks than usually probably, just for the sake of it. to get out things like this before the reveal where i'm gonna get back into being a shy introvert idiot!! so i've been playing my new game, ghost of tsushima, and it's!!!! good lord, the graphic of the game is stunning (for the most part, the horses look a bit weird sometimes but still cute) and the main character is such an interesting character? basically jin sakai is a samurai, the opening scene is a battle where almost eighty-or so samurai die. his uncle, lord shimura, who raised and trained, him is captured by the mongol leader kotun kahn. jin gets saved by a thief called yuna, she rescues him after the battle when she looks for things to steal from the dead bodies. when jin wakes up he basically gets his armor back with yuna, she sold it to a merchant in order to buy medecine, he goes straight to the castle where they keep his uncle. as you would expect, he doesn't succeed. instead he gets thrown off a bridge, it's fucking high and even jin doesn't know how he survived that fall. (we also get some flashbacks every now and then, apparently his father was killed protecting his people and jin blames himself because he was a coward who was too afraid to fight (he was a fucking kid and i-). so the game goes on and we help jin fight against the mongols and free the people of tsushima, he makes allies for when he takes back (his uncle's castle i believe?) the castle where his uncle is being held. which i already did by now, so the next step is getting back this other castle, (jin's castle? or his uncle's? it's from one of them) the description says that "whoever reigns the castles reigns the island," so this is kinda bad. 50% of the time i'm really just trying to figure out the fighting system with jin's hidden weapons (ajksks it's a bit complicated but i think i've got it?) and idk questioning what honor means. that's a big topic of the game. at the beginning of the game we get a flashback, his uncle asks jin what honor means. he replies with "his father's words," so his uncle asks again. jin's reply is "protecting people i guess, those that cannot defend themselves." but then later the game tells us that the things he does is not deemed honorable, which is probably a cultural thing? he attacks from the shadows if necessary, if it means saving the lives of the people he wants to protect, to take back his homeland. but his uncle teaches him that only cowards strike from the shadow, that's it's dishonorable and not something samurais do (which is probably correct idk). so yeah maybe this game is making me questioning what i think honor is and to what extent honor is worth someone's life. if it means tossing honor and tradition aside and instead saving a life, isn't that worth it? isn't that the most honorable thing you can do, putting your pride aside and saving a life? it kind of reminds me of red dead redemption 2, where arthur keeps questioning what morality means, what loyalty is. they're outlaws, they kill people but their motto is "we shoot people who need shooting, we feed people who need feeding." and "vengeance is an idiot's game". rdr2 is about a found family falling apart, realizing that maybe they don't fit together. about morality, loyalty, love, righteousness, forgiveness and the consequences of one's actions. gots is about a lot of these things too, so maybe that's why i'm so fascinated with these games.

i know i'm rambling and you probably don't care but.... i don't often get to ramble about this so please, bear with me. when i say rdr2 is about these topics, then i mean that arthur goes through a lot of bullshit. the game keeps telling us, even at the beginning, that arthur is a very mentally unstable person who has a lot of issues, his anger being one of them. we know that arthur acknowledges that because he talks to one of the girls in their gang, i think it was either mary beth or tilly, that (when you go around and kill people) he feels like he's going crazy. he's questioning why he keeps letting his rage take the better of him. lets just say this boy has some serious issues. (not saying he has almost zero self esteem but maybe i am saying that) the closer to the epilogue you come, the more you see arthur questioning himself, his life, his family. arthur is not a good man, he knows that, but he's not a bad one either. he's just trying to survive in the world that he was thrown into when he was barely a teenager. the only life he has known is being an outlaw but he realizes that he cannot continue this path, it's not possible anymore. his gang his being hunted from every side, the only way out is going north and he knows they're being expected to go there. dutch van der linde is basically his dad, together with hosea, and arthur is his obedient watch dog and errand boy. until he isn't. arthur does a major development throughout the game, from not doubting the man who raised him to openly standing against him even at the cost of his own life. arthur is.... it's hard to explain because there are so many little moments where he grows and questions himself, his worldview and who he should put his trust into. bluntly said, arthur gets sick at pretty much the start of the game, we just don't know it and neither does he. but when he knows, the little changes he has over the course of the game get bigger and more apparent. he's running out of time, he has been since a few months and it helps him realize what he wants. helping people, it makes him happy even if he doesn't want to admit that, so that's what he does. righting, or at least trying, his wrongs even if he knows that people won't forgive him. that maybe he doesn't deserve to be forgiven, it's still better knowing that he tried to make up for his past actions even if it's too late. arthur is.... he's doing the right thing by the end, well if you go with the good-arthur version if you go with the bad-arthur he is still kind of better than his past self. to summarize it a bit, dutch goes kinda crazy. micah (another gang member) spies for the agents hunting them at one point and manipulates dutch, making him even more greedy and angry and the man really lost his mind after hosea got killed. dutch has always been the one more questionable out of the two of them, but he had a codex he followed. he forsakes this codex even if he doesn't realize it. he keeps on killing and killing and killing, dragging innocent people into this and putting his own men in danger. arthur snaps, realizes that maybe dutch isn't the person he thought he was. i'm really dragging this out aren't i? arthur and john, his brother in all but blood, together with john's kinda-wife abigail, their son jack, sadie and a couple of other gang members flee at the end of the story. because they realize that this is not a life they want, that dutch has changed since they first met him and that he's not the man they used to know. and it's really hard to explain but arthur's ending hurts. it hurts so much but it's the exact moment the game built up to, his death.

this is part 1/2. will answer on pt 2. 

[bunnyhani]

No No Tears No!

Pairing: (Platonic!) Yang Jeongin x Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: Fluff and Angst

Warnings: Talk of anxiety, desciptive scenes of feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts. Cursing. Self-hatred, self-doubt. Unhealthy coping mechanisms!

A/N: Please be careful when reading. Do NOT read, if you get triggered by these topics. Stay safe!💕

Summary: Jeongin hated crying. He always said to his friends and other people important to him, as advice that if they need to cry, they should. In fact, he often encouraged people to cry, as it kind of releases pent up emotion and can ultimately make you feel better. But Jeongin himself couldn't take his own advice: he just hated crying. So he just avoids it. Not a smart choice.

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

Jeongin hated crying. He always said to his friends and other people important to him, as advice that if they need to cry, they should. In fact, he often encouraged people to cry, as it kind of releases pent up emotion and can ultimately make you feel better. But Jeongin himself couldn't take his own advice: he hated crying. Of course everyone hated crying, but his hatred towards it was on another level. So he wasn't surprised when he often found himself pushing the tears back, swallowing his sobs and feeling awful after it. Still. He just couldn't handle the emotional state that happened when you were crying. The feelings it brought. When his friends asked and sometimes even jokingly called him a hypocrite, he always said something about the messiness of it. The snot running from your nose, your eyes becoming red and irritated. How you're running out of breath, and there was also a danger of getting an eyelash in your eye. How dumb the sobs sounded.

While all this was true, there was another reason too. Another one, that he wasn't particularly fond of sharing. To him, crying felt like the peak of sadness. It felt like everything in chest was getting squeezed and crushed into nothing. All the emotions that had been trapped inside, went through, escaping when he sobbed his heart out. They hurt even worse than they originally did. It just hurted, ached so badly that he thought he was going to break. The maximum point of sadness. To him... It felt like losing. Failure. Failure of trying to keep everything together and composed.

But for some reason, lately he has been crying more than he would like. He doesn't really know what to do with himself. So he doesn't do anything.

It started a few weeks ago. It started with sleeping troubles and self-esteem issues. He couldn't fall asleep easily and when he did, he would wake up a few hours later and would have trouble falling asleep again. Jeongin never had a good self-esteem to begin with, he didn't like looking at himself in the mirror. While he mostly didn't say he was the most awful looking human being on earth, he didn't like himself. He never did. He just didn't think too much. But both his views on himself kept changing as his sleeping schedule kept on getting more and more messed up. It all spiraled into another level of hatred when some spots appeared on his skin. He looked hideous. Although it was only four or three spots, it was awful. He felt ashamed. Usually his skin was clean and smooth looking. Now it wasn't. The weight in his chest just got heavier every day, his appetite disappeared and soon he didn't see any other living soul except his mother's. And that too was only because they lived under the same roof. His weight started dropping and he knew often that he should eat, but he didn't. He ate very little, maybe one meal a day. His weight started dropping. He kept declining his friends' invitations to come outside or other meetups. Jeongin didn't even know why, it wasn't like he did anything important with his time. He felt pathetic. It was the summer break and he was just laying around in his room in the dark, doing nothing else but crying and going through his phone, and making his mom dinner. It didn't take for him to realize that his depression was acting up along with his already active anxiety. And that realization required a bit of a shake for him too...

Jeongin woke up, back aching and he felt like he had been run over with a truck. His chest was heavy, but he didn't pay attention to it because it was a part of his life already. He made the dinner, not eating it yet, deciding to force himself to eat later. Now he just wanted to lie down and sleep more. Jeongin's field of vision started blurring as tears made their way into his eyes. He was snapped out of his thoughts at the familiar stinging sensation that told him about the tears' arrival. He blinked his eyes rapidly, taking deep breaths. Jeongin didn't want to cry. The boy got up from the kitchen chair and walked back to his room, misty eyed. He wanted to cry out of frustration, why would he be crying? He did not want to cry. What part of that very clear statement did his body not understand. He lied on his bed, thoughts running wild, and at one point, he just thought: I don't want to live. And that was all he needed before he was sobbing like a small child. His sobs were raw with emotion and he tried to stop it. He did. The boy couldn't stop it, no matter what, he was there just crying, laying in a fetal position in his bed. He tried to tell himself how sad people close to him would be, how he would never be able to see his favorite band ever again. But to his horror, he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. Nothing mattered.

After his sobs started to quiet down, he felt numb but drained. He was annoyed with himself, that he felt this way. Why was he like this? I guess on the plus side, the crying saved my life. I would have done something stupid if I wasn't busy crying so much that I could barely breathe, let alone move. Jeongin wasn't happy with it. He was so tired that he couldn't even properly think about suicides. That thought alone scared him. If only he would have known that the realization if wanting to die and that his depression was active again, would make his thought world even darker.

For the next few days, Jeongin didn’t get any better. He felt numb to it all, but he also felt like he was close to crying and breaking apart any second now. His friends messaged him, asking if he’s okay. Commenting on his absence, how little he actually responded back to their texts. How dull even his texts were. Honestly Jeongin felt like he wasn’t really there. Like something was missing. Maybe his head wasn’t in the game or he himself was so emotionally drained that he didn’t have anything left. Not enough emotions to actually reply back properly. Write a heartfelt message, apologize for his behviour. When his friends complained about something, the best he could come up with: it will be okay and oof. Which was a big change, since he was usually so composed, always ready to help and give good advice. That was the reason why people even came to him in the first place, because he always had good advice and could provide a new way of looking at things. He felt the need to apologize. To say that this wasn’t him. But that was where the whole thing kind of fell apart. This was him. He was just extremely good at hiding it. Jeongin just shook his head as another text popped up, completely ignoring it. Sorry Seungmin-hyung, he thought and shifted his gaze back onto the wall that he had been staring for a good 30 minutes.

It was 5pm when the doorbell rang, indicating that his mom was home. He felt rage surge inside of him, gritting his teeth, he ran to the door to promptly rip it open. His mom was there smiling and Jeongin had the urge to kick her. Her mother’s smile fell from her lips when she noticed her son’s expression. Jeongin just turned on his heel to go back to his room.

“What’s wrong?” His mom asked, the look of worry on her face.

“You have your own damn house keys, why don’t you use them? Why do you force me to always come and run to open the door for you?” The boy exploded. He bit his lip as he tried to hold himself back from cursing his mother’s whole existense down to Hell. Jeongin didn’t wait for any reply and went back to his room, resisting the urge to slam his door closed like an angry child. He was aware that he was being childish and also knew that this was another symptom. Let’s add: irritation to the list of symptoms, he thought bitterly to himself. He didn’t want to hurt his mother. But now all the emotion was too much to handle and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“Why did you get mad over that?” His mother shouted from the kitchen and Jeongin wanted to cry out of anger.

“Not every fucking day can be a good day!” He screamed back. Oh my God, I’m a fucking child, he scolded himself. Oh no wait, I’m just an edgy teenager. An ungrateful brat, your mom did nothing to deserve that. I have no right to act this way, I have no reason to feel “depressed”. I have no right to feel this, no reason at all. Someone has it worse than me… He was disgusted with himself. Again, he started crying. Then he fell asleep.

The next time he woke up, was to his phone ringing. It scared him so badly that he banged his head against the wall behind him. Jeongin hastily reached for his phone, heart beating wildly in his chest. Hyunjin was calling. He huffed and put his phone down again, letting it ring, not wanting nor daring to pick it up. But what if Hyunjin was in trouble? The ringing made his anxiety make it’s presence known. Hyunjin deserves that I at least answer to him, he guilted himself and grabbed the phone, just about to press answer when the call ended. He stared at the phone, eyes wide. Part of him felt smug, but a part of him was terrified. He just rested his head back against the mattress with a blank face. Well, if Hyunjin had any urgent business, he would text him. And when Jeongin had gathered enough energy, he would reply back to the tall dancer. But right now, that goal was just a hazy dream in his mind, as he was drained after the sudden adrenaline he got from being scared by his phone.

It was maybe about 10pm when Jeongin was somewhat alive enough to grab his phone again to reply to Hyunjin (who had been messaging throughout the day, not spamming, but just dropping a few messages here and there). He read through them and he felt kind of sorry. He took a deep breath and sent a text saying:

DesertFoxie: Hi hyung. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you called. I’ve been super busy, you know, doing my summer reading and all that shit. Honestly it took a lot out of me so I kinda may or may not have slept for like 4 hours. What did you want to talk about? Why did you call?

Sent,10:03pm

Waiting for an answer was nerve-wracking, especially when he saw that Hyunjn pretty much went online as his message went through. He swallowed thickly as the older started typing an answer to him. Should he wait for the answer? Or should he ignore it? Or just go offline and watch the window of the text then, so he could read through it without marking it straight away as read. It would give him time to ponder carefully what to answer. Despite his curiousness of his hyung’s reasoning, he did put his phone down and just stared at the oh so interesting wall again, just waiting for Hyunjin’s reply.

Hyunjin-hyungie: Hi. I was just wondering that how have you been doing recently. I’m really worried of you, Innie. It’s been awhile that you’ve been this distant to any of us… Please just know that I’m here. Tell me how are you.

Sent, 10:05pm

Ok, his hyung was the best person ever, Jeongin decided. He weighed his options for a moment, finger drumming against his thigh. Should he be honest or say that he was fine? He was so lonely. And he wanted to talk in a way, but at the same time not. He sent a message asking Hyunjin that did he want an honest answer. Of course, Hyunjin said yes. Jeongin nibbled on his lip and threw his head back in frustration. What to choose.

He decided to say fuck depression and anxiety, pushing himself to reply back and tell the truth, like Hyunjin had requested.

DesertFoxie: You know… The usual depressing bullshit. Actually no. You don't know, because I haven't said anything. I've been hating myself for a few weeks now consistently. Idk why, I just find myself disgusting. So I've been eating less and then I've eaten more and foods that aren't very good for you. But mainly not eaten a lot. Mainly because I don't have an appetite. Like I can't bring myself to care that I'm eating very sugary and chocolaty ice cream, not good for my skin since I'm trying to clear it up. But later, I will be like lol that's your fault, shouldn't have eaten u ugly ass, etc.

DesertFoxie: Oh and I've been isolating myself a lot more than usual. Hence why I'm hard to reach.

DesertFoxie: Aanndd my insomnia is acting up. And apparently, so is my depression.

DesertFoxie: I feel awful because my emotional state is so dumbly depressed and numb that I can't even put a proper thank you text together for you know… Checking on me and listening to me right now… Anyways, that's why all my advice (when people ask) has always sucked and been like oh yeah it will get better, drink water, sleep... I get why people would get frustrated with me.. I usually give good advice and support them (I do but fkalfkd) I just.. then give that bullshit that anyone can say ir figure out by themselves…

DesertFoxie: Like.. I can't.. just give you advice? Something just isn't there. Maybe it's my head. Maybe my emotions.. I don’t know.

DesertFoxie: And it's getting hard to pretend to be fine to my mom. Que me being in my room and avoiding all humans once and for all. We can add to the list of symptoms: irritability… I don't want to snap at mom. Because no. 1. She will most likely get mad at me. 2. Yeah just no that’s a bad idea.

DesertFoxie: It kinda makes your head feel heavy too? You feel so sluggish… I hate depression... It kind of feels like crying. Everything hurts and aches, everything gets squeezed in your chest so badly to the peak of heaviness and sadness and goes away and the next thing you know, you don't feel anything for a week. You hate everything. Nothing matters. I wrote a whole paragraph of how depression feels, yet I feel like that's not nearly enough. Like there is so much more, something so unexplainable. And you just want to sleep…

DesertFoxie: I just want to keep saying this isn't me but it is. I'm just good at hiding it.

Sent, 10:25pm

Jeongin held his breath after writing all that. He started regretting the choice after a minute already. Was that too much? Shit I’m too much, he thought and closed his phone. His heart was hammering in his chest and the familiar stinging of tears returned again.

“Fuck my fucking life, tears, just go away!” He screamed into his pillow. He was so so tired and done with the seemingly endless tears, actually he was done with living overall. If only he could just not exist, living would be so much easier. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that, so he just settled for waiting Hyunjin’s reply, heart in his throat. The sudden ping from his phone scared him yet again. He glanced over and the text he saw, made his heart stop.

Hyunjin-hyungie: I’m coming over.

Sent, 10:22pm

Jeongin was pacing back and forth his room, biting his finger. Was Hyunjin mad? Was he not? Holy shit, he had probably angered his hyung. He didn’t need to inform his mom about Hyunjin’s arrival, since she had gone to a very long walk. Now he was extremely grateful for his mom’s obsession with long hikes and walks. He could trust that his mom wouldn’t be home, when Hyunjin and him would most likely talk. A lot. This time, Jeongin wasn’t looking forward to talking with him. This time the whole conversation would resolve around him, and honestly he wasn’t quite ready for that, but he knew he owed that much to Hyunjin. Fun. Then he heard the front door open and someone frantically kicking their shoes off and before he had time to move, the hurried steps got close to his room and his room’s door was opened. And there stood Hyunjin. The older boy was a bit sweaty and panting from probably running the apartment complex’s staircase up.

“Jeongin”, he breathed out and took maybe two or three long steps so that he could wrap his arms around the younger. Hyunjin hugged like he was afraid Jeongin was going to disappear from his arms.

“Hyung?” Jeongin asked tentatively, bringing his skinny arms around the tall boy.

“I’m here, hyungie is here. You’re not alone”, Hyunjin whispered.

The two boys sat one the floor, side by side, holding hands. Jeongin wasn’t quite on board with just draping himself over Hyunjin, although he was sure that the older boy wouldn’t mind at all. They had talked. A lot. And now it was silent, it had been for the last 8 minutes. Then Hyunjin broke the silence and asked a question that he had been thinking about since he saw the metaphor in the text messages.

“Why did you compare the feeling of depression with crying?” Hyunjin asked. Jeongin sighed.

“Well… Uhh… I don’t like crying. It feels like… Crying feels like the peak of sadness and it makes it feel like everything in your chest gets crushed. Well.. more like your heart… Like crying sucks.. Your eyes hurt, you get eyelashes in your eyes, your nose is running and your like running out of breath and it just hurts. It feels like the sadness is just squeezing into the maximum level”, he explained with a quiet voice, fiddling with Hyunjin’s long fingers.

“Is that why you always avoid crying?” Hyunjin asked. Jeongin just nodded.

“I guess we have to work on that then”, Hyunjin concluded. Jeongin lifted his gaze to his hyung in confusion.

“We?” he asked, confused.

“Yes we. It’s not like I’m going to let you deal with all this alone, I’m your hyung, you know. I’m here. And I will gladly help.” Jeongin just lowered his eyes to the ground and squeezed Hyunjin’s hand tighter. Perhaps the both boys knew that Jeongin cried silently next to his strong hyung, but they didn’t say anything about it.

Yes, Jeongin hated crying with passion. But now he wasn’t alone with everything, he had Hyunjin by his side.