#will confess to release myself from consequence

[melanodis]

over here thinking more on how I can make 2029 merlot a complete inverse of where he started. maybe he should have taken the hint.

[breitzbachbea]

I keep listening to Modern Day Cain by IDK HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME and damn. I miss Franci. The man who only lives in my head anyways.

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you doesn't mind, i have an idea. yk this cliche where 1 person makes another jealous just to fire them up and to make them confess their feelings/make out/have sex. i'm always conflicted bc yes i'm a flirty person myself but if someone does it to me? cty instantly. so can you imagine daemon making reader (who's the one he knows he will marry or they're just betrothed) jealous a lot bc he's a big shit and wants her to pay all her attention to him. but he didn't thought about oh. she's cold and strong-willed. so instead of some love making she ignores him for weeks if not months not even saying go back to your whores (sorry). just want him to beg for her love and attention bc that's what he deserves. idk about smut but angst. love angst and having power over powerful men. thank u in advance! take care!

It Takes Two

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Just because you knew Daemon flirted as though it was a sport his life depended on, didn't mean he would not meet the flames of your wrath.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: daemon being a man 🤢, fem!reader, wife!reader, gaslight gatekeep girlboss, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HI NONNIE im blushing over here with you calling me gorgeous. I love me some good old fashioned 'oh no the consequences of my actions' and a good femme fatale i hope you like it lovie HELP IT ACCIDENTALLY TURNED INTO FLUFF IM SO SORRY I DONT HAVE THE BRAIN POWER TO FIX IT sigh i guess its what God intended because my last daemon fic was dark af Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targeryenmoony @ly--canthrope Part 2 "Since You Asked So Nicely"

He sees me from atop his horse. He is already smirking because of the ladies circled around him. He only cares to dismount after I walk away. "Slow down!" Daemon calls chuckling, removing his stupid headpiece, discarding it without a care. When he manages to grab me, I turn and crush my heel onto his foot. He lurches back in pain, snorting angrily as he watches me walk away for the second time. He manages to grab me again, only this time, he is seething and has his hands locked on both my shoulders, "what has inspired your anger this time, wife?" My nostrils in anger. I shove his iron clad chest away from me, but he does not budge, "ask your admirers, prince." Daemon's lips quirk. He releases me. I storm away. He laughs as he calls a servant, instructing him to retrieve his helmet before he follows after his enraged dragon lover.

Daemon could no longer mask that he had been annoyed, no, worried, that up till now, the doors have not opened, and the person he had been waiting for all night has not arrived.

"Is something wrong, my prince?" the woman states in a ditzy manner.

She had been a pastime, a pawn in his game. She had grown honest with the alcohol, now unable to mask the fact she was, in fact, flirting with him. He liked her better when she talked about her dress, not that he could care any less about it. But at least she sounded like she knew what she was talking about, and not like she was measuring each word she would speak before it was spoken.

Daemon does not offer her a word in regard before walking away.

He walks up to the guard that should not be in the banquet this evening, not alone, and surely not enjoying it, as though he should not be on duty.

"Elias!" the prince calls, making the man chatting with someone, turn and straighten at the sight of him walking over.

"My prince," Elias nods in regard, lowering the cup he hand in hand slightly.

"Where is the princess?" he quips, "why are you here when she is not?"

The princess' guard shakes his head and shrugs, "she is in your chambers. Rowan is keeping guard."

Daemon's brows tighten in annoyance, "she's not finished changing still?"

The guard tilts his head, "my prince, she will not be in attendance of the banquet this eve."

"What?"

"Did she not tell you?" he mutters, "she said that she felt faint and did not want to go."

Daemon's face hardens.

Without another word, he storms out of the banquet hall.

I turn to the door from the page of the book my eyes were on when I hear it burst open.

Daemon is heaving when he stills just outside the door.

"Has something happened?" I ask, with no real interest.

The prince marches over to me. I watch him up until he sits by my side and places a hand on my forehead, "are you ill?"

I push his hand away, "no."

"Are you with child?"

I roll my eyes, closing the book in my hand, "wouldn't you like that."

"Then why are you not at the banquet, by my side?"

"Hmp," I shift, turning my body to him, "I did not know you were expecting me."

"You are my wife," Daemon grabs my hand, "everyone is expecting you to be at my side."

I hum, puling my hand away. I inch past him to place my book on the bedside table, "and tell me, husband, where you waiting in earnest or with some woman by your side?"

He does not speak a word.

I scoff at him, shaking my head as I pull back and scooch down under the covers, "that is what I thought."

I snap at him when gets to his feet and rips my blanket off me.

"I've had enough of your games," he points at me, "you have been maddening as of late."

His words make me chuckle dryly. I knit my brows. "Is it I that has been playing games, Daemon?!" I quip, sitting back up, "you have been doing nothing but egg me on ever since your damned tourney and I've about had enough of you!"

I pull the blankets back up, only to have him pull it back down again.

"You know I only do this to get your attention," he says, kicking his shoes off.

I growl, swatting at him as I move to grab the blanket, "you are truly inept if you believe throwing yourself at another woman's feet will merit my attention or good graces."

He grabs the blanket from me and pulls at it, "I only meant to recreate the moment we had after the recent tourney, my love."

I practically steam in anger, releasing the blanket, making him topple back.

"If you are so desperate to recreate it that you resort to speaking with other women, then I do not want you anywhere near me!"

Daemon sighs as he crawls towards me on the bed.

I kick him off, "begone, cretin!"

Daemon, much like him, begins to find excitement in this, and even allows a smirk to play on his lips, "I love it when you call me names."

He manages to grab my leg. When he does so, he pulls me close and pins me down underneath him with his bodyweight.

"Get off!" I shove him off.

"My love," he sighs, grabbing my wrists, pressing them down beside my head, "quit the act-"

"Daemon, I swear to you, if you do not get off me this instant, I will not speak to you for an entire moon cycle."

He stills, looking down at me as he measures my words.

I raise my brows at him in challenge, "do you think I could not do it?"

It take a moments before he releases me. I could not help but gasp when he crumbles above me, sequentially nuzzling his head beside mine.

I clench my jaw at his unwanted affections, repeating more sternly, "get. off."

"You can't make me," he snips like a spiteful child.

I begin to struggle underneath him.

He whines out a desperate, "no!" He pushes down on me, nuzzling further into my shoulder. His breath is hot on my skin when he mutters something in High Valyrian that I do not understand.

I snip, "what was that?"

"I said I did not mean to actually upset you," he quickly admits.

I snort, "didn't you?"

"..."

I relax beneath him.

"... not like this."

"Then I demand an apology with tears."

"..."

"Daemon."

"Enough, I'm going to sleep."

"You are not sleeping in that," I push him off, catching him off guard. He begrudgingly rolls on his back and releases a dramatic sigh. I look at him and raise a brow, "get up right now, or I will make you get up."

He does not listen to a word I say.

The next moment, I have him off the bed. He falls with a yelp and a thud after I kick him.

Daemon rises on his knees eyeing me darkly as I pull the blankets over my me once more, "I told you so."

[misscammiedawn]

The Strange Case of Murder Alters

CW: Discussions of real life murder, sexual violence and heavy stigmatization of the mentally ill

-

It's not easy writing essays about positive representation for complex dissociative disorders in fiction.

Even the most compassionate cases of intentional representation have flawed elements to them. There is no perfect depiction of plurality in popular culture as even those who specialize in the understanding and treatment of dissociative disorders do not have a full understanding of what it is like to live with conditions like this and those who do are often disregarded.

That all goes without noting that it is a highly subjective experience. There are as many presentations of plurality as there are plural people.

In writing this essay series I want to avoid murder alters because I hate how they are used to harm the most vulnerable people in our society.

But at the very least I can do my best to try and understand why people have this horrible view of others such as we...

Because behind the misunderstanding of our condition there is another issue at play.

The zeitgeist.

Today I want to talk about the social impact of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson.

-

Released in 1886, the story is a mystery about a lawyer named Gabriel John Utterson who is investigating the suspected extortion of a his friend and client, Dr. Henry Jekyll by a thug named Edward Hyde.

It is so popular a piece of fiction that it has been adapted over 100 times.

See, the book is a mystery in which a lawyer uncovers the truth about the miracle elixir that allows Henry Jekyll to alter his appearance so that he may drop his social obligations and act without fear of consequence, knowing he can live his respectable life as Jekyll and any depravity within his soul can be exorcised within the guide of Edward Hyde with the Jekyll name unsullied.

The reveal that Jekyll and Hyde are the same person does not happen until the final pages, after Utterson discovers Hyde's body in Jekyll's lab, dressed in Henry's clothes and with a confession letter explaining the whole affair. It concludes that he can no longer control the physical transformations and that he will either be executed or have the courage to commit suicide. Either way the consequences fall onto someone other than himself.

Will Hyde die upon the scaffold? or will he find courage to release himself at the last moment? God knows; I am careless; this is my true hour of death, and what is to follow concerns another than myself. Here then, as I lay down the pen and proceed to seal up my confession, I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end.

Henry had compartmentalized enough of his undesirable impulses and emotions that he stored them in an entirely other vessel, dissociating himself from the actions of Hyde enough that he ends his confession that they are the same with the notion that the consequences of their actions falls on someone other than himself.

Dissociative Identity Disorder has long been recognized as a condition though it was not fully understood, even by today's clouded understandings. The International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD) has medical journals dating as far back as 1831 on the topic.

Though the concept of "dual personalities" was a curiosity to the medical community it was often discussed in the same breath as hypnotism, spirit mediums and possession. It was still understood and studied at the time.

Stevenson was clearly obsessed with the concept of duality of the soul as Jekyll and Hyde was his third attempt at writing a story which centered on the war of Good and Evil within a single soul.

His previous attempt at the concept, Markheim, is a short story about a man who commits a murder of passion while shopping for a gift to get his fiancee.

The story heavily features the concept of mirrors with the titular Markheim terrified of his own reflection, noting that there is nothing within a mirror that he wishes to see. After killing the store owner he searches the house for money and is approached by a stranger who debates with him on the concepts of good and evil, acting as a spiritual mirror that Markheim must see himself within until he stops trying to deny and obfuscate his responsibility in the evils he has committed.

The story ends with him woefully confessing that he has lost the love of good but still hates evil and confesses for the murder, allowing himself to be arrested.

The stories less focus on dissociated personalities and more upon the way a person can self justify unspeakable acts to themselves by avoiding their own reflection.

I'd mentioned that Jekyll and Hyde had been adapted over 100 times?

Perhaps I misspoke. You must forgive me...

You know, I'd imagined this essay as a video. I simply have never dabbled with the form and am concerned I would take to the form with the grace and skill of James Somerton. It's far easier to stick with the devil that I know, namely typing an irresponsible number of words at my Tumblr audience.

Indulging the mental image a moment, however, the prior segment having us (Camden potentially?) bathed in golden light wearing a suit and a top hat, speaking in a refined and elegant version of our English accent before switching to me (Dawn) in red light disheveled and looking oh so slutty and talking with a little bit of our old cockney twang.

You'll forgive my distraction for this little aside, I am simply too vain not to paint that mental picture as I type.

See, there are hundreds of Jekyll and Hyde adaptations. The issue is they are adaptations of Thomas Russell Sullivan's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a stage play that ran for 20 years with its run starting with Madison Square Theatre and Lyceum Theatre in New York and London respectively.

The stage play tells a neat chronological story focused on Dr. Jekyll rather than an investigation which flits between events as in the book. Moreover the play goes to lengths to sharpen the contrast between Jekyll and Hyde, a trend which would continue down the decades, allowing for Jekyll to be more socially active and Hyde's evil to be more random in its cruelty. The play also introduced women to the narrative and allowed for Hyde's depravity to include sexual violence. The original novella lacked any sexual motivation for Hyde and Stevenson outright denied that Hyde's "unspecified crimes" included sexual violence.

The other major change between the play and the book is that the lead actor, Richard Mansfield, insisted on playing the dual role. In fact the play was commissioned specifically to allow him this opportunity.

To quote a review in The Times (August 6th, 1888)

There is but little scope for acting in what has been described as Mr. Stevenson's "psychological study." As applied to the dramatic version of Mr. Stevenson's book, the accuracy of the word "psychological" is open to question. There is no transfusion of thought or character between "Dr. Jekyll" and "Mr. Hyde." In look, dress, and action they are wholly distinct individuals; and Mr. Mansfield's appearances, now in the one part and now in the other, involve no more psychology than the "business" of a "quick-change artiste" in the music-halls. There is much more psychology, for example, in Mr. Irving's impersonation of Mathias in The Bells, where the conscience-stricken burgomaster leads a double life - one in the society of his family and friends, the other in the solitude of his chamber. But except in the hands of a master, psychology is of small account on the stage, which deals much more effectively with the cardinal passions. It is with no regret that we note the absence of the psychological element from the dramatic version of "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

In the book the transformation was a physical change that allowed for Henry to act without repression allowing for an exploration into the psyche of an individual caught between actions which one can look at themselves in the mirror performing and those which they simply cannot accept as part of themselves.

In the play the transformation still plays out but it is one man acting both parts and using the weight of performance to mark them as separate characters. A transformation between good and evil spurred on by the elixir. As it was the first major adaption, however, the transformation was not displayed in light until the third act, allowing the twist and its shock to be preserved.

But still an act before the finale.

With every adaption, it seems, the contrast between Henry and Edward's good and evil sharpened and more and more of the audience entered the fiction armed with the knowledge of the transformation.

The gap grew wider.

As the elements changed the story became less about the war of desires versus reputation within a single man and more about a paragon divide between good and evil. A divide which allowed Henry to become more philanthropic and Edward to become more depraved. The further from the original we drifted the more wholly divided the parts of Jekyll became.

The play itself was a success and as noted all subsequent adaptations of the material would go on to focus on the chronological telling of events with the good doctor and his evil alter ego as the central figures, often dismissing Gabriel Utterson from the narrative entirely.

But there is one other element at play.

(if this were the video essay I'd dreamed it as then this would be where I snuck in a clip from Murder, Murder from the Jekyll and Hyde musical)

In 1888 a series of murders caught the public's attention. Known colloquially as The Whitechapel Murders these crimes are more well known in association with the legend surrounding the suspect Jack The Ripper.

The 11 murders carried out between 1888 and 1891 are a crime and a tragedy that truly did occur in the streets of London. With all the cartoon representations of Spring Heeled Jack, the walking tours and the general romantic gothic ethos that has prevailed through history it is important to remember that.

Particularly as the lasting sensationalism from late 1800s London still carries lingering sentiments in the public psyche.

The first of the Whitechapel murders occurred on August 7th 1888. 3 days after the play opened in the Lyceum Theatre.

The press of the time were quick to jump upon the similarities. The Irish Times in September of 1888 were quick to make the moral accusations, decrying Hyde's depiction as murdering for the fun of the thing. The article, linked above, takes great glee in crafting a comparison when none had existed and in time the association caught on.

Enough that Richard Mansfield himself was suspected of being the murderer in question.

Days after the Irish Times story the following was published in The Star

“MEANWHILE,” writes an eccentric correspondent, “you, and every one of the papers, have missed the obvious solution of the Whitechapel myst-ery. The murderer is a Mr Hyde, who seeks in the repose and comparative respectability of Dr Jekyll security from the crimes he commits in his baser shape. Of course, the lively imaginations of your readers will at once supply certain means of identification for the Dr Jekyll whose Mr Hyde seems daily growing in ferocious intensity. If he should turn out to be a statesman engaged in the harmless pursuit of golf at North Berwick - well, you, sir, at least, will be able gratefully to remember that you have prepared your readers for the shock of the inevitable discovery.”

Another went as far as to claim that the victims being women was enough to link it to the character from Stevenson's book, a book which lacked female characters or victims.

The fact that a woman was the victim in each case, and that she was poor, takes away the suspicion of robbery and suggests some unutterably fiendish motive such as that which is supposed to animate the mystical character of Hyde in Mr Stevenson’s book. When the devilish nature of Hyde was pictured in the novel nobody could believe that his prototype could be found in real life. These atrocities and apparently cause-less murders show that there is abroad at the present time in the East End a human monster even more terrible than Hyde.

(source of these quotes and a far more detailed analysis of the Mansfield/Jack connection, please read The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Saucy Jacky by Alan Sharp)

The legend had shifted and the idea of Hyde had been solidified in the public consciousness and forever linked with the murders within Whitechapel.

In adaptation these days Edward Hyde is depicted as wearing a big long black coat, a top hat and a cane and coincidentally the vision of Jack the Ripper in the public perception has followed a similar path.

It was only in adaptations where Jekyll and Hyde shared an actor that they also shared a sense of style and the disguise had to take a certain gentleman dressed in shadow approach.

The original book makes a big point of Henry's attire being different from Hyde's as their size difference is enough that during the unexpected transformations they must fashion a way to look presentable. Lanyon describes Hyde's attire as "the trousers hanging on his legs and rolled up to keep them from the ground, the waist of the coat below his haunches, and the collar sprawling wide upon his shoulders."

Yet the public perception had found a tidy visualization of Hyde and the visualization of an unknown killer shared that same picture.

And so too was the concept of "dual personalities" linked with murderous intention.

Thus was born the murder alter.

In other Media, Myself and I entries I have worked hard to avoid murder alters. In our very first essay we opened with a passage noting that we wished for positive depictions of dissociative disorders in fiction. Breaking that rule today is a matter of understanding why so many pieces of fiction tend to lean so heavily on the idea of an evil alter ego who kills "for the joy of it".

Because as Jekyll and Hyde's adaptations became more influenced by the culture surrounding their own reception within the public canon, so too did the inspirations take leaps and bounds.

The concept of duality and split personalities was in the public consciousness and focused entirely on the concepts of Good and Evil.

But that only introduced the concept to the public psyche. Even with the links and public fascination with Hyde and Jack the Ripper it was still a matter which existed only in the public's collective imagination.

It was in 1957 when Ed Gein was convicted of a number of violent and horrific crimes that the conversation and assumption become twisted into the stigma that we all endure today. Gein was sentenced to life in a mental institution after being declared unfit for trial by reason of his schizophrenia diagnosis.

His crimes and life were scrutinized and sensationalized at the time and used heavily as inspiration for a number of thrillers including and most famously the novel Psycho by Robert Bloch and its movie adaptation by Alfred Hitchcock and the character of Buffalo Bill in both book and movie versions of The Silence of the Lambs.

The titular "Psycho" from the movie and novel, Norman Bates, is revealed to have an alter personality modeled after his mother who murders any women who get close to him and Buffalo Bill is a serial killer who wishes to become a woman by kidnapping young women and taking their skin.

Both characters would go on to contribute a lot of stigma to both the mentally ill and those who exist outside of the gender binary.

and... that's just sad. Obviously we know that not every person who experiments with clothing outside of their rigidly state assigned gender allocation will have murderous intention. That's absurd.

An often underlooked line in Silence of the Lambs regarding Bill's gender is Clarice noting "Dr. Lecter, there's no correlation in the literature between transsexualism and violence. Transsexuals are very passive."

Ignoring the over simplification and generalization, it speaks against a public perception of AMAB transgender individuals. The stigma claims that trans women are prone to violent and displays of sexual aggression but the reality does not correspond with this perception at all.

The same is true of those with mental illness, especially when associated with childhood trauma.

Though Psycho does not include a throwaway line that makes him out to be an outlier, the story does depict him forming the evil "Mother" personality through the abuse of his own possessive and controlling mother wanting to keep him away from any other women.

Even in the midst of the stigmatizing depiction they were able to show Norman being meek enough to "never hurt a fly" and having been pacified by the abuse he received at his mother's hands.

The fact is that those with dissociative disorders are known to be far more likely to be the victims of violent crime than the perpetrators.

People with these conditions often had to endure horrible mistreatment, neglect and abuse at the hands of those who were supposed to care for them and that society lets us down by holding these violent and dangerous stereotypes is simply inexcusable.

Even those who have alters capable and willing to use violence, they are formed through self-preservation and do not act "for the fun of the thing" as the Irish Times correspondent put it, much of their violence is turned inwards or used to ward off people and prevent them getting close.

Another highly publicized case that adds to the stigma pool is that of Billy Milligan, convicted in 1975 and formally diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder, his life and story have been directly adapted several times, including the infamously stigmatizing Split. Airing this year is a TV adaptation of Milligan's life starring Tom Holland.

It's clear the fascination and assumptions are still well and truly alive. Fact is the murder alter is likely not going to go away anytime soon. It is far too useful a narrative crutch for crime stories where a suspect does not even realize they are the guilty party and though there are only a small number of high profile cases, they have latched on to the public's imagination and been adapted multiple times with those adaptations inspiring further stories.

It's why we need good representation. It's why we want to highlight that good representation as much as we can.

-

Media, Myself and I is a series of Tumblr posts I make to highlight good representation of dissociative disorders in fiction. I do not claim to be the best at academia or research but I care deeply about the topic.

Originally I was going to use the Jekyll/Hyde stuff to build up to the only murder alter I respect but I think we can wait for another day to hear her laughing wav.

Please scroll the tag if you'd like to see more or click on any of the below essays:

Discworld and Plurality Incidental, intentional and accidental representation Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma in The Third Person Recontextualized Memories in Umineko Derealization in Night in the Woods and Metal Gear Solid The Dangers of Hypnotic Personality Play in Penlight System Origins in The Incredible Hulk Relationships with Systems in The Incredible Hulk The Healing Journey in Mr. Robot

Thank you for reading.

[namjoonscoffeeshop]

My first confession pt.2 | drabble

A part of DEEP series

✧ Pairing:Min Yoongi x reader

✧ warning(s): explicit language, hinting of underage drinking, drunk kiss

✧ word count: 1.6k

a/n: part two to this drabble and the ending.

index | Part One

MIN YOONGI

she blew out the candles, jihye picked out her cake after I insisted on doing it myself but she wouldn't shut up so I had no choice. she smiled brightly as they took turns taking photos of her, going in pairs to take photos with her. It irked my soul when he stood next to her, his arm wrapped around her as he rested it on her arm tugging her closer to him.

"hey! smile!" taehyung yells refusing to take the photo without causing some sort of scene. I glared at him as he suggested them to get closer but how closer could they get. taehyung laughs as namjoon yells at him to take the photo, he glances my way which I mouthed "do you wanna die" and he frowned right away, turning to the pair and taking the photo. handing the phone to junho but the bastard didn't stop there, instead he leaned down and began whispering who knows what to her, I stared at her to read her reaction but all she did was smile and nod giving his arm a small squeeze as he moves on letting jihye step in his spot as she hugs y/n tightly for a photo.

"alright last but not least" taehyung pushes me towards the table, indicating it was my turn for a photo. "happy birthday" she automatically hugs me, kissing her forehead I squeeze her as I hug her back.

this is it, no matter what he does. he can't have this, our relationship. 

my eyes glanced to him, he was sitting at the table taking a sip of what ever he was drinking, eyes on us. "smile" she says softly, my eyes tracing back to her as she gives me her bright smile "you don't have to tell me that" I smile, turning to the camera my arm wraps around her waist, holding her closely to me.

"we're finally 21" she whispers

"and? just another year" I shrug

"yeah but we can drink now, legally" she drags out the last word which i roll my eyes. "I'm still older than you" I pinch her waist which she slaps my hand "shut up, by what? two days? oh grow up already" rolling her eyes she pushes me away but I don't let her sit down as I grab her arm and pull her into a hug "still, happy birthday sweetheart"

"give her one more I fucking dare you" I grip his collar, leaning over the table. Y/n and jihye grabbing onto both my shoulders as they try to pull me back but couldn't. "alright alright, it was just joke" he yells back but was not terrified at all of my outburst.

"yoongi!" she yells, giggling like the rest of them but I knew she was starting to get tipsy and maybe this sensitive outburst is also cause I was getting tipsy too. namjoon finally gets in, gripping my fist as he tries to undo my grip on taehyung's shirt

"I wanna know my limit" releasing my shoulders she hugs me from my waist, releasing his collar I sit back looking down at y/n who was still hugging me almost crawling into my lap " later don't be telling me nothing" I grab her arms, prying her off of me as she sits back on her seat emptying her cup once more.

I sit back, cross my arms and just watch her. two bottles later she was starting to talk gibberish and glare at me intensely as she whispered something to jihye who decided to stay sober to not miss the chance of seeing her drunk.

it didn't last long, this stare off she was trying to have with me as her head ended up against my arm. I chuckle as I watch her, little mumbles coming from her lips every now and then.

"she's gone" jihye laughs, taking photos of the both of you with her phone. As a good friend I should've stopped her, save you some dignity but you didn't listen to me to stop drinking, these were you're consequences. typing into my phone I let them have their fun as I called for a Uber. "alright alright that's enough of that" I lift her head of my shoulder, turning my body as I called your name trying to wake you up but instead you face fell flat on my chest as I was holding your shoulders.

"yeah I think it's time to go home" I tried to hold back my laugh, but the smile creeping on my lips was unavoidable. sitting her up once more I called her name gently trying to get her to react and she looked up at me slightly but she was drowsy and definitely gone.

My smile disappearing instantly as he grabs onto your arm pulling you towards him as he gives me a cold stare "isn't jihye taking her home" my body reacting before I could think I wrap my around around your waist, pulling you towards me as I stand "and why the fuck would she" i scowl at him, I was close to losing my patience with this man, who the fuck did he think he was to tell me what I can and can't do with you.

"she's drunk" he stands, my brow arches as I scoff as his attempt to intimidate me. "junho" jihye chuckles awkwardly "sit down, they live next to each other...and they've known each other way longer" tugging on his shirt as she looks around at my friends as if telling them to do something but all they did was watch.

junho stared at me with daggers in his eyes as I stood smugly there your face was resting on my chest as I was holding you up with my arm around your waist. "alright alright, cut it out" namjoon finally steps in, putting his arm between the two of us from across the table. "yoongi just take her home, we'll explain to junho how shit runs here" I couldn't help but smirk as his hands clench into fists.

"i wasn't asking for permission anyways" crouching down a bit I wrap my arm under you as I lift you up into my arms, jihye quickly hands me your purse. moving in my arms your small eyes look at me for a split second before wrapping your arms around my neck. licking my lips I grin as I look at him one last time before turning on my heel and leaving.

she finally woke up once we entered her apartment, she'd stare at me as I was crouched down trying to undo her heals. "yoongi" she mumbles my name which I hum in response but instead of her talking I just hear her sniffle.

I stand quickly, tugging her hair behind her ear as I try to make her look at me but she kept looking down instead "hey..why are you crying" I couldn't help but almost laugh, so she's the type to get emotional.

I should've never talked, the moment she looked up at me. rivers of tears began to trickle down her cheeks and I lost it.

I began to laugh, which didn't help as it caused her to hit my arm with her small purse as she just cried "come on, lets get you cleaned up" I decided it would be best to just get her into bed.

she would stumble over her own feet but I held onto her as she walked down the hall towards the bathroom. "yoongi" she cries, tears in her eyes as I pat her back "stop crying" I held back another laugh.

"you just don't get it" she continues to hit me with her small fists. "then explain it to me, but stay still" I close the toilet cover and make her sit. If I didn't clean off her make up and make her brush her teeth she would be pissed the next day. she kept leaning on me as I tried to take out a make up wipe from the bag. putting it down I push her back slightly, finally being able to get one I wasted no time to wipe her face gently.

"do me a favor and keep crying so I can make sure to get all the mascara" I snort as she slaps my arm away "ouch" I exaggerate

"you're mean"

I caress her knee my thumb brushing circles against her skin, looking into her teary eyes that glared at me"babe, i'm trying to listen to you but all you're doing is crying. take a deep breath and talk"

"I love you"

"I really really love you" my hand freezes, my eyes meeting hers as she stares at me with anticipation in hers. I felt like kissing her, the way her eyes shimmered as the tears fell down her perfect cheeks.

fuck, i'm drunk too

pinching her cheek I smile at her "I love you too kid"

"yoongi" she whined, stomping her feet annoyed.

"okay, I understand alright. I love you too, we've known each other before we could even walk. I adore you, alright?" throwing the wipe away I get up from my crouch position "now brush your teeth cause you know you can't sleep without brushing your teeth"

grabbing her tooth brush I add toothpaste, placing it in her hand I make sure she grips the handle before I let go "i'll go look for something comfortable to wear, where did you put my clothes I brought over here? I don't wanna leave you alone just to find you dead cause you fell or something" I laugh walking down the hall towards her room as I hear her say "in the closet" slowly. entering her room I stop, leaning against the wall "holy shit" I whisper.

placing one of my shirts she had taken and her shorts on the bed I quickly change into joggers and one of my shirts. I step out of the room once she's back to give her space to change as I get her a cup of water.

I could feel myself getting drowsy and just wanted to sleep. getting back to the room I found her giving my side her back as she just hugged the blanket hiding her face. "you're sleeping" I still ask.

getting on my side I poke her back "come here" I say to her which makes her shift in her spot but she didn't avoid me and turned towards me, cuddling into my chest as I rub her back. 

"yoongi" she mumbles"

"yeah"

"I said I loved you" swallowing I lick my lips "and I said I love you too" I give her a tight squeeze. "but you don't seem to understand" she props herself on her elbow as she looks at me, my arm still on her waist "what?" I mumble, enchanted by her. 

She brushes my bangs aside as her hand then caresses my cheek. "y/n" my voice shakes, my mind in shambles and the alcohol in my system not helping me. 

and what happened next I couldn't control. 

she closed the distance between us, her lips pressed against mine. my heart did a somersault and reason was long gone. leaning against my elbows I held her nape, kissing her roughly as she moaned against my lips. nibbling on her bottom lip she couldn't get the hint which irritated me. quickly I lifted my hand to her lips, pressing my thumb against her lips as they part slowly I stick my thumb into her mouth "fuck" I curse as I shove my tongue into her mouth, our tongues tangling as I press her down on the bed. 

her legs wrap around my waist, my hands on either side of her head as I hold myself up to stop me from crushing her. "yoongi" she whines, and it made my heart jitter. 

she had my heart at her palm, she had me at her fucking palm. 

I couldn't think, my tongue wandering every nook and corner of her mouth as I sucked on her tongue. slowly kissing her chin as my hands roamed under her shirt, inching closer to her breast as they itched to grope them. her hips grinding against my hard cock that was dying to be inside her. 

"fuck--please y/n" I groaned against her neck as I groped her breast, pulling her bra down as I sucked her hard nipple over the shirt. "yoongi" she cried out, sitting up I pull my shirt over my head looking down at her disheveled hair, fast panting and her shirt was half way up her stomach. I could feel my dick throbbing against her clothed area. taking a deep breath I hook my fingers on the hem of her shorts, lifting her hips I was just about to pull down her shorts but she grips my hand. 

my eyes jolt to her, I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to just have her but her grip was hard.

her other hand was covering her mouth "I feel like i'm gonna throw up" my breathing was fast as i stared at her holding her mouth. letting go of her shorts I sit her up "let's go to the bathroom" I tell her slowly, trying to calm myself down. "false alarm" she giggles against my chest

I shut my eyes, inhaling. 

before I could say anything to her I began to hear her small snores. it's fine, this is good. I was about to do something crazy. 

laying her down on her side I fix her bra and pull her shirt down. never ever ever drink and lay with her, I told myself. 

"Fuck" she curses, my eyes open slowly as I feel her body jerk back from my chest. jumping out the bed as her hand covers her mouth she runs down the hall. automatically I go after her, picking up the cover seat she empties her stomach into the toilet, I quickly reach for her hair, pulling it back into a pony tail but not having anything to tie her hair with so I just held onto it. 

"I fucking hate him" she  cries

"I told you not to over do it, now you know what will happen" I chuckle, patting her back slowly.

"i'ma kill him" she throws up some more, 

"I tried to stop him and you still didn't listen" I shake my head as she sits back. I hand her a hand towel as she wipes her mouth "all better?" she glares at me clearly caught that I was trying to hold back my laughter "fuck you" hovering over the toilet she throws up again and  i couldn't help but laugh. 

when she finally finished I took her to sit while I fixed her something to eat. "here drink this, it'll help you" I said slowly. she nods, taking sips of the honey water. 

"yesterday" she says slowly

my hands freeze at the ends of the container "yeah" I say 

"thank you for rubbing my back as I slept" she mumbles, taking another sip of the drink

"thats all you remember?" I turn to look at her

her eyes widening quickly "did something happen?" she sits up.

"well you almost barfed in the bed" i lick my lips, grinning. it wasn't a lie, she almost did. 

"oh shut up please, I don't remember anything after you got in the bed" she rubs her temple "I really don't remember anything" she whines 

letting out a bitter chuckle, I smiled at her "not even when all you did was cry" 

"wait, I do remember the bathroom..a little" she shuts her eyes as if trying to recall "you made me brush my teeth" she says 

"oh shut up already" I laughed 

handing her the food she ate slowly and occasionally cursed at taehyung. but never mentioned what had happened last night, and I really hoped it was just that; that she simply can't remember and isn't choosing to just forget. 

tag list: @baechugff @yoongibaybee , @gimeow , @pjmsneverland , @eissenheimer, @taetaechim7 , @acquiescence804 ,@seoullove96 , @keshiadeija ,@camelia122344 @gaby-93 , @amarawayne , @ykkjm , @waitaminswife , @thetaehyungstan

(comment to be added to permanent tag list)

[charles-forza-ferrari-sempre]

Fragments of a Broken Heart: Geralt x Reader

The morning dawned, casting a harsh light upon the empty side of the bed. As y/n stirred awake, a sense of unease settled in their chest. Their hand instinctively reached out, searching for Geralt's comforting presence, but all they found were cold, abandoned sheets. Confusion and dread washed over them, and their gaze fell upon a letter resting on the bedside table, a silent harbinger of the pain that awaited.

With trembling hands, y/n clutched the letter tightly, their heart pounding in their ears. The words within held the power to shatter their world, and as they began to read, tears welled up in their eyes, blurring the inked lines that would forever change their lives.

My Dearest Y/N,

As the sun rises on this new day, I find myself compelled to set forth on a path that does not include you by my side. The weight of my choice bears heavily upon my conscience, yet I cannot deny the pull of destiny that binds me to Yennefer.

I have tried to fight it, to resist the allure of her enchanting presence, but her hold on my heart is unyielding. I cannot turn away from the connection we share, the deep bond that has been forged over time.

I know not how to apologize for the pain my departure will cause you, for the void that will fill your days. But I implore you to understand that this decision was not made lightly. The complexities of love and fate have brought us to this crossroads, and I am compelled to follow the path that calls to me.

I leave you now in the tavern, alone and adrift. It is not a fate I would wish upon anyone, yet it is the consequence of my choice. May you find solace and support among the strangers who pass through, for they will be your companions in the days to come.

Please know that my departure does not diminish the love we once shared. The memories we created together will forever hold a place within my heart. But in this moment, I must prioritize my own happiness, even if it comes at the cost of yours.

I wish you well, Y/N, and hope that time will heal the wounds inflicted by my absence. May you find love and joy in a future that is no longer intertwined with mine.

With a heavy heart, Geralt

With each word, a fragile piece of their heart crumbled, until the weight of the letter became unbearable. They held it close to their chest, as if trying to hold onto the remnants of the love they once shared. The tears streamed down their face, intermingling with the inked confessions of Geralt's choice.

A scream of anguish erupted from deep within Y/n's soul, tearing through the silence of the room. It was a raw, primal release of pain, a cathartic burst of emotion that echoed through the empty space. They cried out, their voice laced with heartbreak as if the sheer force of their screams could turn back time, undo the devastation that had been wrought upon their love.

Their cries reverberated through the room, the sound a haunting melody of despair. With each sob and wail, they expelled the anguish that threatened to consume them, their body shaking uncontrollably. The weight of betrayal, loss, and abandonment hung heavy in the air, mingling with the echoes of their shattered dreams.

As the waves of grief subsided, the reader crumpled to the floor, their body trembling with exhaustion. They clung to the letter, their knuckles turning white as they held onto the tangible remnants of their pain. The room felt hollow, a cavernous void that mirrored the emptiness in their heart.

Yet, even in the depths of their despair, a flicker of resilience bloomed within the reader's broken spirit. Through tear-stained eyes, they gazed upon the letter one last time, silently vowing to forge a path forward from the ruins of their shattered love.

With trembling hands, they released their grip on the letter, allowing it to flutter softly to the ground. Their tears became a bittersweet testament to the depth of their emotions, and as they took a steadying breath, they resolved to rebuild their life, to find solace and strength within their own being.

In time, y/n would rise from the ashes of their pain, their cries transforming into expressions of growth and empowerment. They would seek healing, leaning on the support of trusted allies and discovering the resilience that lay dormant within them.

As they stepped out into the world, y/n carried with them the fragments of a broken heart, their tears now mingling with a newfound determination. They would find their own path, reclaiming their worth and embracing the possibility of a future where love and happiness were not defined by Geralt's presence.

And as they walked away from the echoes of their screams, they set forth on a journey of self-discovery, knowing that in time, they would find a love that would cherish and value them, a love that would never leave them alone in the depths of a desolate tavern.

[chaotic-on-main]

Unspoken Words Snippet | June - Part Four [NSFW]

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ smut, first time together, friends to lovers, slow romantic sex

☾ Author's note ➼ I thought I would share my first ever smut in it's own post for those that might be curious of my writing style but don't want to read through ~87k words to get to it lmao. I don't know how I feel about it, but considering it's my first time I guess I should be nice to myself lol. There's probably a lot of context missing but not enough to miss that they love each other and this is when they finally confess their feelings.

This is from part four of my series, Unspoken Words, which can be found here!

And if you haven't started the series, you can find the first chapter here!

Thank you guys for checking this out, love you. <3

☾ Word Count ➼ ~4.5k

“You should probably get some sleep. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as exhausting. We can talk more then.” Levi says quietly, changing the subject.

You narrow your eyes at him, annoyed he would close up after so much progress. But then a yawn so big escapes your mouth and you shove your face into the pillow you were still hugging until it’s done. When you look back up, you see Levi watching you in amusement before his expression changes into indifference quickly. Maybe this would be best saved for the next day when you were both awake.

‘What about you?’

“I don’t sleep much, you know that. I’ll be okay.” He shrugs his shoulders as he gets up from the sofa. He reaches for the remote and turns off the tv then carefully places it back on the coffee table. Then he turns around to offer you a hand which you take, still hugging the pillow to your chest. He raises an eyebrow at that but turns on his heel to head to his bedroom. With a soft sigh, you place the pillow back and follow him down the hallway to your room.

The need to figure out what was going through his mind was strong, but your exhaustion hits harder. As you pass the kitchen, you note the time was about to hit five in the morning which means you have been up for a while. Despite the amount of sleep from earlier, you feel your body giving in to the heaviness of fatigue – no doubt a consequence of having such a taxing day.

You watch as Levi stops outside of his door, right hand gripping the doorknob in white knuckles. As you pass him, you reach over and place your hand on top of his. When his eyes fall on you, you offer a small smile.

 ‘What’s wrong?’

Before you can pull away, Levi says your name and stares over at you with longing.

“What am I to you?”

With shaky hands, you sign back, ‘What would you like to be, Levi?’ Adrenaline courses through your veins like lava at the sudden question.

“Yours.” It’s so soft, barely audible. And yet so full of conviction.

Levi looks down at your lips quickly before jumping back up to your eyes. In a swift motion, he releases the doorknob and grabs your hand, pulling you in closer to him with sudden force. His gaze is as firm as the grip on you, holding you in place. When he speaks again, his words come out measured.

“You’re right, I do know what I want. My answer is yours. I want to be yours.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden confession, and you stare at him with your lips parted in surprise. As if time slowed down, just like in the elevator, Levi tilts your chin in his direction - pinching it gently between his thumb and index finger. He leans in slowly, his eyes staring into yours as he wavers inches away. Levi is so close to you that his hot breath hits your face, and you smell hints of his black tea and traces of pine.

“And I want to kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod, dazed by his proximity.

Carefully, his mouth meets yours and you instantly distinguish the difference between this kiss and the one in the elevator. This one is hesitant, nervous. But traces of ravenous hunger linger as an aftertaste.

That same heat blazes from your face all the way down to your toes. Levi’s fingers move from your chin to right under your jaw, tilting your face into him even more. After a moment, he breaks away granting you a moment to catch your breath. His face is still inches from yours, gray eyes fluttering closed as your forehead rests against his. Your name tumbles out of his mouth, almost like a beg.

“I need to know.” He pulls away from you, the air around you instantly turning cold from the lack of his presence. “Will you let me?”

‘Let you what, Levi?’ You know what he wants, but you just want to hear him say it again. And again and again and again.

“Let me be yours.” Your smile would have blinded the whole world.

‘Mine.’

He leans in again, cupping your whole face in his calloused hand and locking his lips back over yours. The hunger intensifies just like the buzzing throughout your whole system. You open your mouth slightly to let his tongue in to explore and it does, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You swear you hear Levi growl in response. Oh, how touch starved you two were for each other.

As if in sync, Levi opens the bedroom door and you both stumble still lip-locked into his room. He pushes you up against the door, shutting it behind you. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss, you would have been worried by how loud the slam must have been. Levi presses up against you more, sandwiching you between the heat of his body and the cool wooden door behind you. You already feel how hard he is under his sweatpants.

You’re more inexperienced than most so there’s hesitation in your kiss – something Levi picks up on quickly. He pulls away but leaves his hands on your face as he looks at you with apprehension.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to tonight.” He whispers to you. His voice is as sincere as it always is, albeit husky. You place a hand over his that sits on your face, leaning into it as you do before signing back.

‘I want all of you.’ You offer a loving smile, wide and full of adoration for the man in front of you.Levi’s eyes bounce back and forth between yours as if searching for something. He finds nothing but pure truth.

Levi’s lips crash back onto yours, careful but just as heated. As his marred lips leave and make their way down your neck, one of your hands slides up his chest to his undercut until your fingers find what they were looking for, tangling in his raven hair.

The moment you feel his teeth pinch your soft skin, another moan comes out louder than before. Having him pressed up against you like that, the outline of his cock pressing into your stomach, you start to feel your patience slowly unraveling.

Your nervousness flies out the window. This was Levi, you had no reason to worry. Levi is safe to you. He would take care of you as he always does. And you would do the same. The thought makes you smile up at the ceiling. Before you know it, your hands push against Levi’s soft skin, and he pulls away quickly. Worry pools into his dark eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Is everything okay?” He murmurs hoarsely.

Instead of signing back, you force him to step back towards the bed with your palm pressed against his chest until the back of his knees hit the edges of the mattress. The force alone makes him lurch back so that he falls back onto the soft duvet, catching himself on his hands so that he’s sitting up.

In a swift motion, you straddle his hips, and your lips find solace on his mouth yet again. You don’t hesitate to push your tongue through to taste him again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself into him more.

You don’t mean to, but you find your hips grinding on to him, the only barriers between your already soaked self and Levi being the clothes you wish were off. The pressure and friction against your very sensitive core make you pull away for breath. Levi’s soft grunts are music to your ears and his lips start trailing back down your neck, his teeth finding purchase in your soft skin yet again. His fingers slide up your back, pulling your night dress up with it.

Then a groan comes out of his clenched teeth, full of frustration.

Levi pulls away again and stares up at you with heavy-lidded eyes full of impatience. You note that pink flush of his that you love so much, deeper in color and painting across his cheeks. As you stare down at him, you come to love this version of Levi and you want nothing but to see his face contort at the way you grinded into him. But he places his hands on your hips to keep you still, much to your dismay. You watch him carefully as he speaks, his voice husky.

“I-uh. I want this, I do. But we need to be safe. And I didn’t bri-“ He averts his gaze, staring at the corner of the bed. You were so lost in the exhilaration of it all, you didn’t think about it. A thick appreciation for him crashes over you because his cautious nature, even if it did slightly kill the heat of the moment.

‘Give me a second. I can help with this. Stay here.’ You give him a chaste kiss before sliding off his lap and out the door quickly. You tiptoe your way back to your room, making sure the only sounds that can be heard are the clock ticking on the wall and the muffled continuous crashing of waves just outside.

When you slip into your room, you see Hange flat on their back with their hair tousled everywhere. Soft snores escape their lips, a telltale sign they are out like a light. Hange wasn’t promiscuous in the slightest, but they weren’t closed minded either. And with that, it meant they stayed prepared.

You creep over to their unorganized suitcase where clothes were strewn all over the place. Reaching into the top compartment, your fingers feel the sharp edges of a foil package and slip it out. You blush to yourself as you think back to Levi’s outline as you make sure it’s the right size.

A snort from behind you makes you freeze in place, breath hitched as you sit crouching in silence. A moment passes. Another minute. Hange’s snores fill the room again and you let loose your held breath, shoulders sagging. You’re sure this conversation would come up again later, but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. Especially with Levi waiting for you.

It takes you next to no time to slip out of your room and back into Levi’s, closing his door with a soft click. Turning around, you show him the condom in between pinched fingers and smile widely to Levi who was still sitting on the edge of the bed for you.

“Did you come prepared?” He raises an eyebrow at the glittering foil.

‘No, but Hange do-‘

“I don’t need to know any more.” Levi blurts out, hands up in defeat. A silent laugh shakes your shoulders as you make your way back over to him. You fling the package onto the bed before straddling him again, noting how hard he was underneath you still.

‘Now where were we?’ You sign with a small smile. Levi smirks and places his hand against your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip gently. You playfully nip at him, and he huffs in amusement.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful, you know that?” He asks you softly before pulling your face into his and locking his lips on yours. It’s a saccharine-laced kiss. His hands find your hips again, lowering until they are fully on your ass, and they squeeze. A squeak escapes into his mouth as he does, and it just makes his grip on your skin tighter.

Pulling away, you grip his t-shirt from the bottom and start tugging it up. Levi leans back so you can pull it up and over his head, discarding it on the bed next to him. Your hands trail down his toned chest and abs, his skin burning under your touch. It’s soft despite the hard muscles underneath them. Your mouth finds his again as your hands explore, not hesitating to slip your tongue into Levi’s already parted lips.

Your hands find their way back in his hair, fingers entwining through the fine strands. You can’t help it – you tug gently, and a small whine comes out of his pouty lips as he’s pulled away from your mouth. Something inside you burns and again you feel your razor thin patience cutting at you. 

As if Levi reads your mind, he wraps an arm around your back while leaving his other hand cupping your ass and stands up effortlessly. In a mere moment, he turns around with you in his strong arms and then gently tosses you on to the bed. A soft laugh escapes you as you land. Everything around you smells like Levi.  

Levi stands at the foot of the bed and stares down at you ravenously, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen on anyone outside of the movies on your television screen. You sit up on your elbows and watch as he gets on the bed and slowly makes his way on top of you. He meets your lips with his own as his body hovers over yours, his fingers lightly trailing up your arms resulting in goosebumps following in their wake.

Slowly, you lie back down flush to the mattress, his knees digging into the sheets on either side of your thighs. Levi’s lips start to slide down your jaw which gives you some space to breathe but your breaths quickly turn into soft whimpers as his fingers lightly trace across your lower abdomen. His other hand snakes around the back of your neck, supporting it as he starts planting more soft kisses down it.

 “You can stop me at any time, okay?” Levi whispers, his hot breath tickling your neck. You nod, only wishing you had your voice to say his name and tell him you wanted him. As long as he was with you, you would always want him.

Levi’s hand that was teasing your waist makes its way back up to the lacy lining that adorns the edge of your nightdress, long fingers tugging down the thin fabric that holds your breasts in place. You’re glad Levi isn’t watching your face because you are multiple shades of embarrassment.

But Levi doesn’t say anything, instead he takes a breast in hand and massages it gently as his kisses start trailing down past your collarbone. Before you know it, his soft lips clamp around your already very sensitive nipple, eliciting a loud moan from you. You can’t help but dig your nails into the firm muscles of his back in response, dragging them down as Levi bites down gently. An exhale of hot air blows out of Levi’s mouth against your skin when you do that, a small grunt escaping with it.

You feel the absence of his lips immediately as his lips leave and the wetness left behind leaves your skin defenseless against the cool air. Levi softly kisses back up your sternum then pulls away, leaning forward on both hands that now sit on each side of your face. His tousled hair falls forward, creating shadows across his face as he stares down with that same hungry look, only this time it’s tinted with pure amazement.

“Still okay?” He whispers down to you.

You blink up at him and swallow hard. You were more than okay but as always, your words fail you. Instead, you nod and the hands that once dragged down his back are now trailing down his chest again. The feeling of his skin against yours sends electricity through your whole body, and you want more. You need more. Your hands flatten against right above his rapidly beating heart as you do your best to give him a look that conveys ‘more’.

“I’ve got you.” Those were the words he had muttered down to you the day before as you fell asleep in his arms on the beach. It wasn’t just cherishment that he held for you; it was deeper than that. Hange’s words from earlier flit through your mind, only briefly. How could you not have fully noticed until now?

He leans down and places his lips back on yours, soft and sweet. As your lips lock on to his, you feel his feather light touch trace back down to the elastic band of your underwear. But instead of teasing you like he had before, you feel his fingers dip under the cloth and further down to…

Any other thoughts racing through your mind cease to exist as his delicate fingers slide down your slick folds. You don’t mean to moan as loud as you do and fortunately Levi’s mouth muffles it for you. He hums in response to your reactions, smiling into the kiss.

Levi’s lips graze back down to just under your ear as his fingers rub small circles around your clit eliciting more moans from you. Your labored breaths fill the space as the white-hot heat from his touch reverberates throughout your whole body, tingling down to the tips of your toes. He whispers your name under a heavy breath, mutterings of how beautiful you are to him floating up to your ear. All sweet words mirror the moans you made.

You reach down to Levi’s hardened bulge that currently fights against the stretched fabric of his joggers. Your fingers close around him as much as they can through the thick cloth. Upon contact, Levi’s breath hitches. You give him a gentle squeeze resulting in a guttural groan that comes through his clenched teeth.

In response, his touch burns deep into your core as he carefully pushes a digit into your warm entrance, the palm of his hand applying pressure onto your swollen clit as he does. His movements are gentle as he pumps it in and out slowly, and you feel his finger curving up into a spot so good your toes curl. The euphoria turns into building heat, and you know what’s about to happen - but you wanted more. You wanted him now more than ever and this was not enough. More, more, more.

A soft whine comes out of you as your fingers tighten around him. A light huff tickles against your skin – Levi’s way of chuckling.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” He mumbles, his lips finding your earlobe and nipping at it gently. Reaching over with your other hand, you place your hand against his cheek and pull him up to you, planting your lips right onto his. It’s a hungry kiss, one conveying you were ready for him. You love him, you want him. You need him.

With that, Levi withdraws his hand and slides himself off you and the bed. You sit up and watch as he tugs down his pants along with his boxers. You knew what was coming and yet you couldn’t stop the blood rushing to your cheeks in shy embarrassment. You look away, staring at the ceiling as you hear Levi pick his clothes up including the shirt you threw on the bed, and then place them neatly on the dresser behind him. Your name quietly tumbles out his lips for your attention.

When you look up at him, you see him offering a hand to you. Your eyes flicker down for a mere second before going back up to Levi’s soft gaze. You feel as if you could faint on the spot.

Instead, you push yourself closer to the edge of the bed and take Levi’s hand. In a delicate flourish, you’re in his arms again and he pulls you in for another deep, lingering kiss. His fingers bunch at the bottom of your night dress and start lifting it up. You let him, pulling away enough so he can get the soft fabric up and over your head. He folds it and turns to place it next to his pants. When he circles back on you, he takes a moment to observe your half-naked self.

Being in your thin bathing suit was one thing, but to be standing there as the cool air conditioning drifted across your unprotected self was in a whole other universe. You shift your weight awkwardly and twist your arms together as you avert your gaze to the piled-on dresser.

Levi steps closer to you and takes both of your arms in a gentle grip and pulls them away from each other so that you’re exposed to him. You force your gaze on him despite how nervous you were to be in front of him. Levi’s dark eyes trail down your body but not in an ogling kind of way – he watches you with wonder.

“You’re just so beautiful. Every part of you.” He releases your arms, and his hands are back on you, sliding down your waist and landing on your hips. His fingers leave a trail of tingles. “I want you, all of you. If you’ll have me. Is that okay?” He whispers to you, pulling you by the hips into him. The length of his hardened self presses against your bare stomach as he does.

You sign that same simple word, ‘Mine’.

With that, Levi gently pushes you down into the bed with a hard kiss, leaning into you until your back is pressed against the mattress. He loops his fingers into the sides of your panties and tugs them down your legs, pulling away from you yet again to place them next to the rest of the discarded clothes. At that moment, he takes the time to rip a corner off the metallic package with his teeth, the foil discarded onto the dresser once done.

He grabs your hips again, this time pulling you flush to the edge of the bed as he stands at the foot of it. His hand makes its way to your thigh and his perfectly trimmed nails press into your soft skin as he holds you close. The tip of his cock teases your entrance and if you had a voice, you would have begged for it. As usual, you didn’t have to.

Levi leans down to you and kisses you slowly, teeth brushing against your swollen bottom lip. He places his other hand on the bed next to your head, using it to keep himself propped up. His hair hangs low as he hovers, already moist with sweat from the proximity and building body heat between the two of you. You use one hand to grip his forearm while the other hand slides up the back of his head and into his sweaty hair, fingers digging into his scalp. As the kiss deepens, so do his movements into you.

Levi slides himself in gently, using his hold on your thigh to control his speed. He lifts your leg up against his hip for a better angle but the sharp gasp from you stops Levi in his tracks. He stays there, feeling your warm walls hugging tightly around him.

He pulls away from the kiss and hovers over you again, looking down into your eyes with worry. It's been a while since you have been touched like this, let alone this intimate. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this loved. Levi makes this all so easy despite the anxious knot in your chest. You realize it isn’t just this that he makes easy, though. It’s everything around you. Every issue, every solution.

You imagine you’re looking at him just the same, a small smile etching into your flushed and hot face. Before he can ask again, you move your hand up and under his fingers that digs into the bed next to you. Lacing your fingers in with his, you squeeze his hand a few times.

A way to say you were okay and that you trusted him. And always would.

He looks down at you curiously but then realization dawns on him. His concern washes away to reveal his own version of adoration for you. It’s one of your favorite expressions on him by far.

In a breathless moan, Levi pushes himself all the way in. He presses his lips onto yours, muffling your moans that rise in volume as he slowly rocks into you. The hand he had on your thigh tightens as he pulls you into him more, quickening his pace slightly. The new angle hits a spot that almost puts you at the brink of finishing right then and there.

Levi lets go of your hand and moves his arm under your neck again, giving him the opportunity to trail his now sloppy kisses and teeth down it. Those razor-sharp teeth sink into your skin as one of his thrusts hit simultaneously. You bite into the back of your hand to keep yourself from wailing out and waking the rest of your roommates. The other hand that now sits against his sweaty chest digs into his skin, burying deeper with every thrust. It feels as if every part of your body burns like wildfire from his touch. Your name comes out in a groan this time, husky and deep.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful. You feel so good.” He buries his face into your collarbone as he moans your name again, shakily.

Levi thrusts soon become clumsy, feeling him slam into you inconsistently and with every hit comes more pressure against your clit. Heat builds into your core, the same as before. You’re pulling at his hair, in an attempt to warn him you were close. Throaty curses leave his lips as you both feel each other tense up.

In an instant, it’s like the world crumbles around you as you hit your limit. The walls surrounding Levi clenches as each wave of pleasure rolls through your whole system. Your orgasm sends Levi over the edge and in one deep thrust of his hips, you feel his body shudder as his moan almost turns into a whine. His teeth bite into you again as he rides through his own climax, filling up the condom within you.

Levi releases your leg and lets it fall gently against the bed before collapsing on top of you. He uses an arm to keep himself propped up enough to not suffocate you with his body weight. You focus on the heavy panting emanating from the both of you as you come down from your high. His heart beats in sync with your own against as he lays on top of you, digging his face into the crook of your neck.

You wrap your arms around his head and hold him close, despite the heat and sticky sweat between your bodies. Levi nuzzles his nose into sweaty soft skin and chuckles, low and hoarse. You both continue to lay like that until the breathing slows down to a normal pace. The next time he speaks, his voice is so soft and barely audible that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.”

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[likhe-jo-khat-tujhe]

[Wednesday || April 24/2024 || nighttime.]

Dear Maya, to others you may be just a fictional character and maybe not many people know you or remember you but to me you're more than just hope, and you're engraved in my heart. Your words "always say yes to life." Shall be my life motto from now on.

To myself, for what I learned about life today.

At the start of the movie I thought it was just another children's movie as the protagonists were teens in their highschool. But to my surprise I was wrong and proved that "never judge a book by its cover." because it wasn't something I assumed. It was something even more beautiful than I expected. This movie has friendship—one friend being rebellious and selfish other one being soft hearted, kind and empathetic—mischievous deeds of teens, calm parenting, school life, small town aesthetics, crush, letters, depressed and lady with trust issues who's wealthy but not happy. It has broken friendship arc, guilt, remorse and years later phase, college, relationship, hesitation in accepting proposal, scars from the past because of prank. Second chance friendship arc, and a very beautiful ending with unexpected twist. Music was great as well, I added 2 songs to my liked playlist because it has motivating vibes. Great storyline, acting music, and everything. Maybe others might find this movie boring but to me it wasn't.

Idk if everyone can notice what I noticed but it has this scene where Maya releases birds she kept caged as her pets. Maybe it's to portray that "Don't cage yourself in your comfort zone because of fears and insecurities because the world is vast and the sky is vaster. Find yourself and things which can give you happiness. Get out of your confinement and say yes to life." That's my perspective about movie and scenes.

So it's about two girls—Anna and Ira—who starts writing prank letters–(pretending to be an imaginary man they created who's in love with her and wants her to live happy life.) to wealthy, yet gloomy, depressed scared of human interaction, middle aged lady "Maya" who lives in the neighborhood–out of boredom. Later Maya slowly gets convinced and starts changing herself, her dressing, starts interacting with others just a bit. Sells her house and goes to Delhi in the search of the "man" who sends her love letters. Which scares one of the girls and she gets stressed thinking what'd happen to Maya because that man doesn't exist in the first place, while the other one doesn't care about the consequences. Anna confesses about prank letters to her parents out of guilt, they send her to boarding school and her friendship with ira ends up in thorns.

Years later everything has changed and but Anna is still searching for Maya in Delhi while living her college life, she even has a boyfriend—Rahul—who proposes her but she asks for time to consider everything. Ira has became quieter than before because of huge incident. Anna comes back to Shimla, her hometown, to meet her parents. Ira and she reunited but Anna isn't ready to forgive her for what she did in the past and they go back to Delhi to search for Maya once again because Ira says she has found Maya's address. And they end up going to Delhi together, things happen, they argue and Anna finds out what happened to Ira in her absence. They reconcile and unexpectedly finds Maya because of Anna's Missing posters. They meet her and after seeing her completely changed in brighter clothing and full of smile living a better life they get shock of their lives and they ask her what happened after she came to Delhi alone to search for her "lover". Maya tells them what happened, her journey about finding happiness and movie ends with twist.

It was such a beautiful movie, it left quite an impression on my heart. Like how Maya decided to come out of her confinement and comfort zone to find happiness. She goes around the city, tries food, buys clothes and jewelry and enjoys life. She understands that, to live life one must abandon their fears. How Anna didn't give up and kept searching for Maya, how Ira had character development. And how they learned lesson through their prank letters.

At the end, I'd say that they should make this kind of movies more. Slice of life.

[isaacforalpha14]

Dean Route

   The fervent confession sparks an emotional failure; the precarious hypothetical boundaries you’ve been wavering on for months crumbling leaving devastation in their wake. Dean had retreated from the room with Garth in an effort to prolong having to deal with the consequences of the altercation, hiding from the emotions he’d revealed, the rejection, as you helped Sam stumble to the bathroom. There’s a devastating silence looming in the bathroom, nimble fingers assisting Sam out of his suit jacket before he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, leaning against the porcelain sink. Sam can sense it; the stifling tension has returned, an emotional rift between you, he doesn’t want to surrender, to lose you, but he’ll respect whatever decision you make. The impending conversation feels like an imminent storm, he can’t avoid it or prepare, all he can do is ride it out. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” Sam’s rough voice questions in a defeated murmur, hazel eyes watching as you dampen a washcloth. There’s a second of silence, abstaining from answering, as you wring the washcloth out and take a deep breath in an effort to refrain from crying. This was never what you wanted; you never wanted to fall in love with brothers, to create this strife in someone's life, especially not the Winchesters. “I understand, you know.” He continues, grasping your wrist in an attempt to get your attention. The second his hazel eyes meet yours, his heart aches at the warm unshed tears reflecting in your beautiful eyes, and he feels the need to protect you. He always has. “If you feel something for him. I understand.” He whispers, making you feel worse. How could he be so understanding? He releases a sigh of defeat as you remain silent, wincing as you dab at the dried blood under his nose, he just wants to hear how you feel. 

“I am sorry.” You apologize, voice quivering as warm tears trickle down your cheeks. He wants to reach out and comfort you but he feels like it’s inappropriate. He doesn’t want to cross any boundaries. 

“Why’re you sorry?” He replies confused, you can’t control how you feel as much as anyone else can. There’s an awkward silence that settles in the air, it takes a second for him to understand just what you meant by the vague apologies. “You’re in love with Dean.”

“I think I need to head to Sioux Falls for a while.” The response took him by surprise, you haven’t returned home to Bobby’s since his death. He doesn’t want you to leave, but he knows it would be selfish of him to try to convince you to stay. “I need time to myself.”

“Uh, y-yeah, I get it.” He doesn’t get it. “B-but Y/N.”

“Sam, please.” You whisper, tossing the washcloth in the sink before crossing your arms against your chest in a defensive position. “Don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“I was just going to say that.” He hesitates, heart aching as he decides to be the better person here. He doesn’t want to lose you because it didn’t work out. He wants you to be happy. He wants his brother to be happy. “I know that you and Dean deserve a chance, okay? And..I think you know that, too. Just give him a chance-like you have me. I mean, Y/N you saved me.”

Dean’s leaning against the Impala, olive eyes fixated on his brown boots as he stuffs his hands in his military green jacket pockets. He’s avoiding the inevitable, when he goes into the motel room he’s anticipating a fight. He’s emotionally exhausted; he’s tired of fighting his brother, he’s tired of pretending that seeing you and Sam together isn’t killing him inside. He’s caught up in his musings, he doesn’t hear the motel room door open, or you saying goodbye to Sam. 

“Hey.” You murmur, interrupting the silence as you place your duffle bags on the pavement.

“Hey.” He responds with the hint of questioning in his inflection, glancing at the luggage on the ground and back at the motel room door. “Are we leaving?”

“No, uh- I am.”

“What does that mean?” He’s panicking; his heart beating against his rib cage as he feels in his bones that this is somehow his fault. It had to have something to do with the scene from earlier. 

“Sam and I broke up.”

“T-That doesn’t mean you have to go.” He rushes. “He can’t make you go.”

“Sam didn’t ask me to leave. I am leaving because I am in love with you.” Dean’s thrown off, he was not expecting that answer. He’s conflicted as his olive eyes meet yours in a meaningful gaze. How can you leave after telling him you love him? “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He questions in a haze, overwhelmed with emotion and his thoughts. 

“Don’t blame yourself.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, placing a hand on the nape of his neck as you press your forehead to his, nuzzling his nose with yours before you speak again. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ll come back. I just need to give him space after everything.”

“But I don’t want space.” Dean whispers, warm breath fanning over your mouth as he sighs and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. 

“I know.” You chuckle at him. “Let me do this for Sam. I don’t think he could handle having me around for a bit. He’s being kind about the situation, he told me to give you a chance, but I don’t want to hurt him.” 

“He did?”

“Mhmm.” The moment is interrupted by the honk of a horn as Garth pulls his El Camino into the parking spot beside the Impala.  Dean groans, annoyed that just as he finally had what he wanted within his grasp it’s taken away again. Dean’s gonna be a nightmare to deal with while you’re gone. “That’s my ride.”

“I am back!” Garth sings, leaning against the El Camino as he raises his arms for emphasis, the driver's door wide open.

“Are you sure you have to go?” He asks a final time, placing your duffle bags in the bed of the El Camino causing you to laugh at his persistence. 

“Yes, Dean.” You place your backpack in the passenger seat through the open window. “You can always visit me if you really can’t wait until I come back.”

“Make sure you call me.” He instructs with a serious tone, clutching your hand tightly before he sighs again. He really didn’t want you to leave. “Please.”

“Dean Winchester, have you gone soft?” You tease, making him blush as he chuckles at you.

“For you, always.” He replies, opening the passenger side door waiting as you climb in to close it behind you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You.” He points at Garth. “Take care of my girl.” Garth is confused, when he left you were with Sam. Now, you’re Dean’s girl? Boy, were you in for a conversation during the ride. He wanted the skinny. He’s afraid of what would happen if he didn’t agree with Dean so he nods with a clueless smile. 

[elisysd]

53. You’re blowing through my mind like the hurricane

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Hurricane - Ofenbach, Ella Henderson

She had barely got any sleep that night and decided to avoid being out on Saturday. She didn’t want to see anyone and she had no badges anyway. She wouldn’t have been able to enter. Sure, she probably could have asked her dad to find her one, but she didn’t want to face him and despite Ethan’s words of reassurance, she still doubted that she had a place in his work environment. She was fine with the idea of staying alone in her room during the weekend. And she knew that the second she would go out, she would be circled by journalists trying to get a reaction out of her and she didn’t want that. She had the wonderful idea to look at the news in the morning and the number of articles about the rumored cheating scandal inside Ferrari were enough to make her want to throw up. And the press statement the team had released to announce her temporary eviction didn’t make her feel better. It had been a bitter pill to swallow but she understood why her dad had to do it. But it didn’t make the feeling of having been thrown under the bus any better. She only had given directions to her dad about the upgrades, he didn’t have to use them but yet, he had chosen to test her and to trust her. He was at fault too, but it seemed that she was the only one to take the blame.

A knock on her door took her out of her thoughts. When she opened she found her mom in front of her. She was the last person she wanted to see. She was still beyond mad at her for not giving her the possibility to talk to her dad.

“I don’t want to see you, mom.”

“Can we talk?”

“For what? To tell me that I only have myself to blame? That I should think about the consequences of my actions? That I failed, just like everyone expected? I already know all of that, I don’t need a reminder.”

“I wanted to protect you…”

“How? How is that protecting me? You made everything worse. I could have explained everything if you had let me! Now, dad won’t trust me anymore.”

“He spent the night in his office back at the hospitality. We had a fight about Zurich.” confessed her mom, tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

“I helped you change it when you asked me, I agreed to not tell it to your dad… We both lied to him. That would be hypocritical of me to tell you that you deserve what is happening to you. You don’t and if I had known what was going to happen during the press conference I would have waited. I didn’t watch it, I learned about it after telling your dad about how I saw you using manufacturing plans from Lamborghini. And then he confronted me about Zurich and I didn’t have any other choice but to tell him the truth.”

“If only he could understand why I did it…” Julia sighed.

“Deep down he knows but it doesn’t make it easier to admit it.”

“Where is Louis?”

“Funnily enough, he is with your dad. He said he didn’t want to leave dad alone because he was sad. That the only ray of light in this story, our lies brought them closer.”

She spent the day with her mom in her room watching movies and talking about everything. It felt nice and she wondered when was the last time they had been together like that. It was late in the evening when Lyanna received a text from her husband, asking her if they could talk. As a family. His wife replied, telling him she was with Julia in her hotel room. He arrived shortly after and Julia noticed immediately the dark circles under his eyes. He entered, hesitant to sit on the only armchair of the room as Julia leaned against the wall and Lyanna sat back on the bed.

“Where is Louis?” Lyanna asked.

“Ethan said he could look after him, he is spending the evening with Kyle and Ludwig playing video games from what he told me and he asked Louis if he wanted to tag along.” Charles explained.

Silence set in the room, no one knew where to start until Charles took a deep breath and started to speak.

“I don’t want to lose our family.” he simply said. “I don’t want our lies to tear us apart. You are my everything.”

Julia stood up and went to her bedside table to retrieve an envelope which she gave to her dad.

“The USB drive is inside. I want to destroy it. I know it won’t bring back the trust you had in me but… it’s still something.”

“Why? I just… I don’t understand why you would feel the need to use it.”

Julia sighed and sat on the floor, in front of her dad, her knees pulled against her chest.

“I wanted to make you proud, I wanted to prove to you that I deserved to work with you, that I had what it took. But… I think mom was right, I wasn’t fully ready for this job. Not because I don’t have the abilities, I know I do, but because I wasn’t ready for this world. It’s a make or break one. And it broke me. I wasn’t ready for the attention, I wasn’t ready for the misogynistic behavior, for the rumors, for the constant traveling, the pressure… everything. I wanted for everyone to be proud of me, I wanted to feel useful and important and I didn’t see that slowly I was compromising myself. I lost sight of what was really important. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to go overboard or to resort to cheating to make me proud, Ju’. I’m proud of you just the way you are.”

“I know that now.”

“What about you tell us everything? From the very start.” Lyanna said, sitting next to her daughter on the floor.

And Julia did. She told them about how Ethan approached her to ask for her help after the pregnancy scandal blew out, how she had told him no at first but how he kind of insisted and how she ended up accepting. She didn’t want to mention him blackmailing her but when her dad told her that Ethan had implied it, she didn’t have the choice.

“He… he knew about Zurich… drunk confession. And he recorded me and threatened to send it to you. Ironic how you ended up learning about it…”

“What an idiot…”

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not. I’m just stating the obvious. But you still fell for him after all.”

“Oh yes, I did.”

She explained how they couldn’t see eye to eye at first, how they were bickering almost non stop but how they still made it work. She told them that Louis knew about it and overheard them talking that day, after the karting day they all had organized. How horrible she had felt to lie to her family and how despite everything, it was the very first thing that brought Ethan and her closer. She talked about how after that something had changed between them and how Singapore started to blur the lines between what was fake and what was real. How, in hope to forget it, she had used Martin as a distraction. She could see how unfair it had been and how wrong she was. After Singapore everything was more complicated. She could still feel herself falling for him, fast and hard but thought it was just a game for Ethan. She didn’t want to allow her heart to get broken. And then she explained how it became completely real in Paris, how their actual first kiss was broadcast on live TV. She felt herself blushing, not daring to say anything further. She explained how it had been hard for them to go through fake dating to real dating, how they were not on the same wavelengths. How she was feeling confused and scared that she had made a mistake that she let her fears control her instead of living in the moment and learning how to love Ethan. But she knew that now, they were not ready. It had happened too fast and too soon.

“And then Canada happened and from there you know the rest of the story.”

“And the usb stick?”

“I swear I didn’t use it for a very long time. I had barely looked at it when I showed you the upgrade ideas. I knew how bad it could be and what people would think if it happened to be known.”

“But you used it for the new car.”

“Not at first… I noticed discrepancies between the data and I feared we were going the wrong way. I wanted to solve it fast and I thought… Since it would be a new season with new cars, it would be okay to use some ideas that Lamborghini introduced. I’ve never thought it would be interpreted like it had been. I know I made a huge mistake and I know that being sorry won’t restore your trust in me.”

“I see… I’m sorry about how I handled the situation. I should have listened to your side before deciding to postpone your role in the team but, I stand by what I said. It’s better this way. You need time to find who you are, take it but I promise you when you’ll be ready, I’ll be more than happy to have you onboard.”

She smiled through the tears. It felt good to finally come clean about everything. She needed it. Now she could move forward. It was now in the past and she intended to keep all of her mistakes there.

“And about Zurich…” she started.

“That’s a little too soon… I’m not ready to have this discussion.”

“Just… I’ve never been ashamed of being your daughter. Sure it has not always been easy but what matters is that now I’m proud and happy to say that you are my dad. I’m not trying to hide it anymore.”

Her dad smiled as well, sitting next to her on the floor and throwing an arm over her shoulders before pressing a kiss on the side of her head. He soon was joined by Lyanna who joined the hug.

“This family hug would be perfect if only Louis wasn’t missing.” Lyanna said.

“He hates hugs.” Julia stated.

“Not Ethan’s, apparently.” Charles laughed. “Julia, you know that there is still a badge for you, right?”

“I know, but I think it’s best if I stay away from Ferrari’s garage for a while. I’ll probably ask Romy if I can bother her in Audi’s hospitality. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen Seb. I hope it’s okay with you.”

On the other side of the building, far away from the heavy conversation, Ethan was playing a football game with his best friends and Louis who was revealing to be a tough competition.

“I won! Again! I’m better than you!” he jumped out of the couch as Ludwig was grimacing and Kyle was smiling happily.

“You did. Fair and square. Four times. Congrats little guy. But I believe it’s time for you to go back to your room, we all have to be ready for the qualifying tomorrow.”

“But you will win, right? It’s your home race. Romy won hers so now you will win yours.”

“If only it was working like that, Louis. If only.”

It was true. It was his home race. It was where he had the most supporters. And he loved the track. He loved the hazardous nature of it, even more when it was raining cats and dogs. He knew the history, the deaths linked to it but it was just adding up even more to its aura. And winning there must be so special. He wanted to feel it. At least once. But he had faith. The last two weeks, both on the podiums and his pole position had managed to restore his confidence. He was on a roll, he felt good in the car, he felt better inside his team, his mental health was on the right track thanks to Sofia. Nothing could stop him. He had never felt this happy in his life and he didn’t want to say it, but breaking up with Julia might have been for the best. Really, he felt like a better version of himself. A healthier one.

He arrived at the paddock earlier the next day. He was supposed to meet with Jackie and the kids to show them around. He wouldn’t have time to show them the garage and his car, as he had to do a lot of things today but still, it was important for him to make sure that everyone was feeling good and comfortable there. He also didn’t want to create any triggers to the kid. He knew the smell, the noise could be a lot. He found the group at the entry, right as they were getting out of the mini bus.

“Jackie! Over here!” he waved.

“Ethan! Look at the sign I made for you!” a kid said to him.

Ethan looked at the huge sign in front of his nose. It was a poorly drawn F1 car, in light blue with his name that didn’t fit in whole. That made him laugh.

“That’s very nice of you. Can I keep it? So I can put it in my driver’s room.”

He then proceeded to walk with them in the paddock, not before giving them their passes, and then showed them the Maserati’s hospitality where they would watch the race. He happily answered questions and some were almost starstruck to see other drivers. He was about to leave them to go to his meeting when he crossed paths with Romy who was laughing with Julia.

“Ethan, hey. Ready to have your ass kicked?” said the German girl.

“In your dreams, princess Romy.” he smiled. “Julia? How are you doing?”

“Good. I told my parents everything.”

“Everything,everything?”

“In detail. It felt good to finally come clean and to have all those lies out of the open. Now I can move forward and about that… I was wondering… do you know if Sofia could recommend me to a few therapists? After everything that happened these past months, I need to talk about them to someone and I need to understand myself better. And it worked wonders with you so I think… Why not me? I can’t be that hard of a patient?”

“Well…” Ethan laughed as Romy was giving her a side glance.

“You know what? I don’t want to know! Let me be delusional for a bit.”

“You're an angel.” Ethan said.

“A gem.” added Romy.

“You’re perfection made woman.”

“A delight.”

“The lighthouse in the raging sea.”

“The rainbow after the rainfall.”

“You guys are the worst!” Julia laughed, punching Romy’s shoulder as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you decided to make that decision. You’ll see, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s time for me to grow up. I’m just sad it took so much time and a hard slap in the face to realize it.”

“You know what they say… it’s not about the…” started Ethan before being interrupted by Julia.

“I swear if you say, it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey, I’ll shove my feet so far up in your ass that you’ll talk all high for the next few days!”

“Have you thought about talking about anger management to your future… Hey, stop! Julia, not my hair!” Ethan started to scream as the brunette was trying to annoy him.

He finally managed to leave the girls and ran to his garage for his meeting. The qualifying started in less than an hour and he still had to talk to his team. He ignored the glances as he arrived and started to get ready. EVerything would be okay, he had a nice feeling over the weekend. He had never been so focused in his entire life. He could see the flags and hear people chanting his names even if he had his earphones and over the sounds or roaring engines. It was crazy and it was for him. He breathed deep and closed his eyes to enjoy the few seconds before he would be able to get on the track. And when finally he got there it was game on. He managed to set the time reference of the Q1, three tenths before Kyle. The Q2 was trickier. It was never his forte, he knew it was something he had to improve on but still made it to Q3.

“Dawson is out. Schumacher as well. Martinez too. You have a boulevard in front of you for the first line Ethan.”

“Let’s go.”

His first try was awful and he had to abort it after taking the apex a little too strongly. He mumbled a few insults before trying again one last time. It was now or never. He gave his all and when he crossed the checkered flag, he immediately turned on his radio.

“Tell me we got it. Tell me we’re in front.”

“And P1 for you. P1. Congratulations.”

“Fuck yeah!! That’s what I’m talking about!!”

He almost jumped out of the car after parking it in front of the number one sign. He looked at his team and at the kids who were gathered near the barriers and addressed them a thumbs up before shaking hands with one of the Mercedes drivers and with Martin who would start P3. Looking at the board quickly, he saw that Chloe was P4 which was her best result of the season and it made him proud. He moved to the media area, patiently waiting for his turn as he was looking around him. The crowd was gathered as close as they could get, waving at him and screaming his name. He waved at them as well and gestured a thank you before taking place in front of the journalist.

“Second Pole Position of your career in the span of two weeks. Congratulations. How does it feel to start tomorrow with no one in front of you and in front of your home crowd?”

“It’s unreal, really. I knew I had the car to put it at least on the first line but to say that I would get the pole, moreover here, yeah, it’s incredible. I don’t have the words.”

“What’s the strategy for tomorrow?”

“To be fast? I don’t know. Lamborghini seems to struggle, but you never know with those guys. Ferrari is still strong, we will have to be careful and Mercedes is fast as well. But I will give my all, that’s for sure.”

“Well, best of luck for tomorrow and I hope I’ll have the chance to interview you again.”

“Thank you everyone. See you tomorrow!”

That evening he had a nice meal with the kids, laughing and explaining everything to them and when he closed his eyes. He dreamt of a huge trophy and the highest step of the podium.

Audi’s garage didn’t have the same atmosphere as the very loud one in Ferrari or the organized chaos of Maserati. Order, discipline and speed were the main words there. In the corner of the room, in the space made for the drivers’ loved ones, Julia was observing everything. She was amazed by the efficiency of the team. Everyone was moving towards the same goal but it didn’t mean that the feeling there wasn’t almost homely. It felt nice, reassuring and Julia thought that it wouldn’t be her last time there.

“Julia Leclerc, you’re probably the last person I expected to see one day around here. How are you doing? The last time I really saw you, you were tall like that,” said Sebastian Vettel, bending down, his left hand palm turning towards the ground to show her a tiny space. She smiled.

“Yeah, and you looked younger. Soon you’ll end up in the retirement home.”

He laughed, taking her in his arms.

“I’m happy to see you. When I heard and read what happened on Thursday I thought a lot about you. You have an ally in Audi. Your dad and yourself. You can count on us.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I was thinking that I might be spending more time around here since I won’t work for Ferrari next year. I’m officially jobless… Well not really but… it’s complicated, you know how it is.”

“I don’t see you standing still in a corner. You are not made for that.”

“Yeah… but what else can I do?”

“There are a lot of things around here. I’m sure you’ll find something, you’re resourceful.”

She shrugged as she saw her best friend arriving, her blond hair in a braid and her big blue eyes, set on a clear goal: moving up a few positions. No matter what it took. She was starting between Elijah and Kyle but she knew her best friend, when she was out there she had no friends and wouldn’t care about how much she loved Kyle, she wouldn’t go easy on him.

“Kick those guys asses, Romy.” Julia hugged her.

“You bet I will.”

She got in her car as they were getting ready to drive her to the grid. Julia saw a camera from the official broadcast moving towards her. She looked straight at it, giving them her most beautiful smile and waved. If they wanted to capture her sad and trying to hide, they had come to her the wrong day.

After the formation lap, it was time for everyone in the garage to get silent. Eyes glued to the screen and on Ethan’s light blue car and number 32, she started to feel anxious. Race starts were always stressing her out. When the lights went out she felt relieved to see Ethan having a good start and defending his position against the Mercedes with everything he had. But the announcement of the yellow flag almost instantly made her shiver and even more when she saw her best friend’s Audi in the gravel. Her car had slightly bumped into the wall and she could see her getting out of it clearly angry, throwing her gloves on the ground. The screens were showing the replays of Romy’s onboard and Julia threw her head backward when she saw Romy going for the exterior of the first corner, right next to Kyle who was fighting the other Mercedes. She clearly didn’t have the space to go but tried anyway and Julia shook her hand as she witnessed her best friend being her reckless and sometimes stupid self.

“Are you okay?” Romy’s engineer asked her after her bump in the wall.

“What is he doing? For fuck sake, he swerved right when I was about to overtake him! What an ass!” she heard Romy’s radio message.

The broadcast showed, then, Kyle’s onboard. He couldn’t have done anything. He had been squeezed by the Mercedes and if he wouldn't have swerved, Romy and him would have both ended up out of the track.

“Didn’t see her. She was in my blind spot. What was she thinking, seriously?” Kyle complained. “Is she okay?”

“She is out of the car. She is fine.”

“Copy.”

Romy was coming back to the garage  right when the safety car was getting out of the track. Ethan was still leading and it made Julia smile.

“What an ass! Have you seen this? I swear he sleeps on the couch tonight!”

“Here’s your bottle of water.” Julia handed it to her, knowing full well that it was no use to try to tell her that she was in the wrong here. But when she gave her the bottle, she couldn’t help but notice how pale she looked and it worried her. “Romy? Are you okay? You look awfully pale…”

“Of course I’m good! It’s just a little crash, not the first and not the last.” she tried to hide it but while saying it, Julia could clearly see her hand firmly gripped to a chair, as if she was trying to lose her balance.

“Are you sure? Because you don’t look fine. Sit down, Romy. Please.”

“It’s okay! I promise maybe it’s just the shock of the accident! It’s nothing.”

“Still. I would feel better if you were going to the medical center… just to make sure!”

“I don’t need it! What would people say? Poor little Romy? Unable to handle a little bump in a wall? You know exactly what will be said. I don’t want to.”

To try to show her best friend that she was alright, she let go of her grip and stood still for a few seconds before stumbling and Julia barely got the time to catch her before she would fall on the ground.

“If you don’t want to go to the medical center, then I will take you to the hospital. And don’t tell me you’re fine, you’re shaking! And okay, maybe it’s nothing and just the aftermath of the shock but better be safe than sorry!”

“But what about Ethan?And I have to go to the media pen…”

“I’ll pay your fee, if the FIA dares to say something. And my best friend will always come first. Let’s go.”

Her heart wrenched thinking she wouldn’t be able to watch the full race and Ethan fighting, but making sure her best friend was fine was the most important thing, right now. They discreetly went to the parking lot to find Romy’s car and Julia helped her get inside the car. She was hot and pale. Clearly not okay despite what Romy wanted her to believe. They arrived at the hospital and soon Julia had to leave Romy alone as they were going to run a few chek ups. Her friend gave her a big smile but Julia could see the worry in her eyes. She could only hope that it was just her acting overprotective for nothing and that Romy was right and it was just the aftermath of the shock.

She sat in the waiting room and pulled out her phone to watch the remainder of the race. It was the last twenty laps and Ethan was now P4 after a pitstop. Chloe was P3 and Julia quickly understood that her role would be to help Ethan get his position back. Ludwig was P2, chasing the Mercedes. It was good, the more they were fighting at the front the better it was for Chloe and Ethan. Eight laps later, Ludwig was now leading the race as Ethan was overtaking the Mercedes and was now about to fight with his best friend. They were now entering in the last ten laps and Julia could barely breathe. She hoped for not another scenario like in Germany. For Ethan. For his sake. For all he had been through these past few months. For all the hard work and dedication, the blood, sweat and tears he had poured into his dreams. It was five laps until the end that he managed to finally get rid of Ludwig and fly towards his fate. For a second Julia almost thought that Ludwig was helping Ethan by slowing down the Mercedes. She breathed deep and increased the volume, listening to the final comments of a race that would still be engraved in her mind.

“And for the first time in his career, after a pole position in Germany and a second place, a second place in Zandvoort last week and an outstanding weekend, starting from pole position… In front of his home crowd, in front of the world, Ethan Verstappen is doing the lap of his life, look at that he is about to get the fastest time… And he did it! Ethan Verstappen is a Grand Prix winner!”

She felt a tear rolling down her face as she looked at her screen proudly. She heard his screams on the radio, she saw his gloved hand pointing at the sky, she watched his team hugging each other. She saw the pride and joy in the eyes of the crowd. She couldn’t believe it. He had done it. And she wasn’t there to take him in her arms.

Ethan knew he was going to get filmed, crying, but frankly he couldn’t care less. As soon as he got out of the car he jumped into the arms of his team. His ears were ringing, his world was swinging but he was so happy. He was on top of the world. His name would be remembered. He saw the kids, wearing his team merchandising waving at him and jumping around. He felt hands on him, words whispered in his ears from everyone. He saw Ludwig running to him and screaming in his face. He couldn’t make up what he was saying. He felt someone pushing him, grabbing his arms so he could go to the interviewing zone. He tried to search for one face in particular but couldn’t find it and soon a microphone was handed to him.

“What a lap, what a race. Congratulations Ethan.”

“Thank you… Thank you everyone, for your support throughout the weekend it’s… I don’t have the words. I’m sorry. Just… Thank you. I won’t be very talkative today, it’s a lot…”

“I won’t take too much of your time. Is there something you want to say?”

He thought about Julia, how despite everything she had always believed in him, how she had been one of the rare people to have faith in him.

“Actually I have something to say, or rather someone to thank. There is this one girl that is very special to me. I have not been the best guy lately but I tried to be better for her. Because she deserves nothing else but the best. I don’t want to sound corny and I know that she probably wants nothing else but to slap me right now because I’m exposing her, but I want her to know that I’m right next to her if she wants to let me. As her friend.” he quickly added, not wanting to sound like an idiot on live tv. He wouldn’t hear the end of it.

The podium celebrations had a very sweet taste. Really, he could and wanted to get used to them. He wanted the big trophy, he wanted to hear his national anthem, he wanted to be with his friends up there. Today it was Ludwig, Kyle finishing with a solid P6, but soon in the future he hoped he would win again and savor the podium with the two of them.

When the celebrations finally died down he went with Ludwig to meet Kyle, he wanted to know what happened at the start and was surprised and worried to see him running to them, his phone in his hand.

“We have to go to the hospital. Julia called me. Something happened to Romy.”

Author's note: After everything he has been through, Ethan deserved that win.

What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[dc-and-arfrona]

Playing Him Too? 1/2

Based of this prompt

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

I kissed Roy softly, a mixture of emotions swirling within me. With a faint smile, I pulled away, bidding him goodbye as I turned towards the building's entrance, hoping to escape the complications of our tangled hearts.

But before I could make my exit, I realized I was not alone. There Jason stood, his gaze piercing and filled with a mix of anger and hurt.

"You're playing him too?" he spat out, his words sharp with accusation. The bitterness in his voice seeped into my bones, reminding me of the pain I had inadvertently caused.

"Good to see you too," I replied bitterly, my voice tinged with regret. His presence ignited a storm of conflicting emotions within me—guilt, remorse, and a deep-seated longing for redemption.

"Who do you not play?" he demanded, his voice heavy with disappointment and frustration. The question hung in the air, a painful reminder of the tangled web we had woven together.

I took a step forward, ready to face him, but he continued, his voice a harsh whisper. "Is love just a game to you?" The question cut through me, exposing the cracks in my own façade, the doubts that gnawed at my conscience.

"Don't be a sore loser," I retorted, my voice tinged with defensiveness. But beneath my sharp words, a pang of guilt resonated within me. Had I taken love for granted, treating it as a mere game to be played?

I walked forward, attempting to distance myself from the confrontation, hoping to escape the painful truth that threatened to unravel our already fragile connection. Yet, his footsteps followed, each one echoing with the weight of our shattered trust.

As we continued down the path, silence wrapped around us, suffocating the unspoken words that begged to be released. The truth was, I had never wanted to hurt anyone, but my own insecurities and selfish desires had clouded my judgment.

"I never meant to hurt you," I finally whispered, my voice raw with vulnerability. "But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what truly mattered."

He stopped abruptly, his gaze searching mine for answers, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and longing. "Love is not a game," he murmured softly, his voice heavy with pain. "It's a connection that should be nurtured, cherished, and protected."

Tears welled in my eyes as I met his gaze, my voice trembling with regret. "I know now," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "I see the consequences of my actions, and I'm sorry for the pain I've caused."

His expression softened, his anger slowly dissipating, replaced by a flicker of understanding. "We're all flawed," he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "But it's how we learn from our mistakes that defines us."

A heaviness settled in my chest as I nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words. "I want to do better," I admitted, my voice filled with genuine remorse. "To mend what's broken and find a way to navigate the complexities of love without causing further harm."

In that moment, we both recognized the necessity of healing and growth, not just for ourselves but for the sake of our fragile connection. And together, we silently vowed to confront our own demons, to learn from our mistakes, and to untangle the mess we had made of our hearts.

As we went our separate ways, the weight of the unspoken lingered in the air—a reminder of the wounds that still needed to heal. Love may not have prevailed in that moment, but perhaps, with time and introspection, we would find a way to mend our fractured souls and discover a love that was worthy of its name.

Part 2

Masterlist

[vodkacheesefries]

This is the sin/That I will confess to release myself/From consequence/And everyone can tell - Modern Day Cain (I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME)

something something I love biblical parallels/references/being doomed by the narrative etc and so forth

[naffeclipse]

Ooh have you considered Modern Day Cain by IDKHBTFM as a good song for SJ eclipse?

Oh dang, this is a bop! I really like this for Eclipse. This is him reassuring his decisions, no matter how dark and bloody. It is costing so much, morality included, but he won't stop now. It's what he must do and he won't stop now, no matter the objections.

The moral objections To something so profane Oh, but the deepest of convictions Are the darkest positions Little remissions for the varicose vein So now you've done a little wrong And you swear you didn't do it But volition left you burdened with a curse And you conjure up a fiction To get the pretty girl to listen

This is the sin That I will confess to release myself From consequence And everyone can tell

[therapardalis]

[Unprompted, from @herstoriies <3] My most dearest friend Lady Landsend, With haste I write to you at this most ungodly hour to share with you a matter that cannot seem to escape my thoughts. A matter, of course, relating to the heart. I'm afraid to disappoint lacking a story to share of one of my latest escapades, but, perhaps this is worse. Or better, depending on how you look at it. I have fallen in love. Yes, really. And I do mean it this time. Genuine, ferociously honest love, that has me both flummoxed and ebullient. He isn't one of my usual libertine dandies, or dashing tenors, or debonaire patrons, either. He is none other than my own colleague whom I have written - ah, complained - to you in the past of whom I most strongly detest - yes, that one. For my own amusement, I shall leave it to your brilliant deduction skills to determine who this is. I've really gone and done it this time, haven't I, dear Thera? With love, Priscilla K.

My Dearest Priscilla,

I trust you will not hold matters against me (for very long) if I confess that at the mid-point of your letter I released a sigh and murmured to myself 'Again?'

However, pray forgive me that moment's lapse, as what followed certainly gave me more insight and indeed hope that this was not simply another fancy. While I do struggle to reconcile this news with the vitriol of previous times, I find myself hopeful that such an inauspicious start actually bodes well for the union now. It has taken all due time and no doubt adjustment for this to occur between you, and I find myself both pleased and excited on your behalf.

However!

I hope you will forgive me once more in that I currently prepare to depart New York and travel to France, the better to assess this gentleman and make clear the consequences if he does not treat you as you deserve.

I may also be accompanied by a certain detective, who means to inform all that he was once a '(expletive) grave digger' in order to support me in this endeavour. I shall leave it to your deduction skills to figure out who this is!

With love,

Thera L.

[timetravelingthroughspace]

In which ChaGPT interprets a tarot drawing for me

—

Me: I did a what I need to know tarot reading. In the you position I drew the sun. In the known position I drew the star reversed. In the unknown position I drew the seven of swords reversed. In the action position I drew the three of swords. The two of cups was on the bottom of the deck.

ChatGPT: This spread highlights both clarity and challenge. Here's a breakdown:

**You (The Sun)**: The Sun card in this position reflects a period of personal clarity, vitality, and confidence. You're likely feeling more self-assured and authentic, possibly enjoying moments of joy or insight. It's a card of optimism and personal power—embracing who you truly are.

**Known (The Star Reversed)**: With the Star reversed in the known position, it seems that you're aware of some sense of disillusionment, loss of faith, or feelings of discouragement. You might be struggling to find hope or direction, despite the Sun shining in your life. This card signals that you know there’s a need for healing, even if it's hard to believe in it right now.

**Unknown (Seven of Swords Reversed)**: This reversed card in the unknown position suggests that there may be some truth or confession that has yet to fully surface—either from within yourself or from someone around you. It indicates a shift towards honesty and integrity, but perhaps you're unaware of how much this process is unfolding behind the scenes. It could also point to self-deception or a pattern you haven't fully recognized yet.

**Action (Three of Swords)**: The Three of Swords here is a call to face heartbreak or pain head-on. You may need to confront a difficult truth or make a decision that could bring emotional pain, but it's necessary for healing and growth. There's an element of releasing what no longer serves you, even if it’s painful.

**Bottom of the Deck (Two of Cups)**: The underlying energy of the Two of Cups suggests that relationships are at the heart of this reading. Partnership, connection, or balance between two people is influencing your situation. Whether it's a romantic relationship, a friendship, or even a reconnection with yourself, this card hints that mutual respect and emotional exchange are a key factor.

Overall, this spread seems to encourage you to lean into clarity and positivity (The Sun), but to also confront the discouraging feelings (The Star Reversed) and underlying issues (Seven of Swords Reversed) that need to be addressed. The Three of Swords suggests this might be a painful process, but the Two of Cups reminds you that connection and harmony are possible.

—

In which I reflect on the reading

—

A lot of ChatGPT’s reading resonated with me. The “you” and “known” positions. There’s been a lot of personal progress for me and a greater sense of clarity and certainty about important choices I’ve made for myself since about May of last year when I left my job and began HRT. HRT in particular has, I think, really helped to tame what was about a 20 year long cycle of alcohol dependency and that at one time seemed inescapable. I do feel more confidence and clarity. I know now so much more now about who I am, my experiences and what I want for myself at least as far as my gender expression and identity go.

But I also feel somewhat discouraged by my progress so far. I also recognize that so much of what I feared about transitioning when I was 16 has basically become a self-fulfilling prophecy in some ways. I feared that no one would accept or love me if I were to transition, but instead the absence of love and acceptance in my life has been a consequence of my having been unable to love or accept myself which was made all the more difficult for my slavery to alcohol as means of keeping from myself my own self. The conventional wisdom is true I think; to be loved and accepted you must first love and accept yourself. I also feared that transitioning would cause me to become a kind of monster, essentially I feared being a clocky trans woman, a “boy with tits”. My late transition in life and the general state of my health as a consequence of alcoholism, which itself may have been responsible for my becoming diabetic, has to my mind undoubtedly made it more difficult, though not impossible, for me to achieve what I’ve wanted for as long as I’ve been conscious of myself. I do still fear becoming a “boy with tits”, but I’m much less fearful of that than I am of giving up and not trying at all. Right now I have my hopes pinned to the idea of finding better paying, more fulfilling work, but I’m a little bit lost as to what to do. I’m certain I’ll find something, but not knowing what that is yet makes me anxious and concerned that it will take longer to figure out than I’d like. I’m trying to be patient with myself.

I also regret how much I’ve lost as a consequence of my alcoholism. Time and connection. The drowned years, the alienated friends, estranged family, and lost loves. There is this sense that there just isn’t enough time left and whatever I achieve, I’ll have to achieve alone. But these are the conditions that I’ve created for myself. I have to be accountable to my own choices and actions. Compassion is nice, but perhaps integrity is better.

Which sort of brings me to the unknown position. I need truth or at least honesty. Perhaps now more than ever. The past 20 years have been lost to self-deceit and there are times when I have to wonder what more lies beneath. There are also times when I blame others and resent them for things they’ve done that felt like mistreatment, willful and intentional harm. Occasionally and with some struggle I come to realize that what I blame them for is something that I too am guilty of or that I was the one responsible for creating the conditions that motivated them to behave in a way I didn’t appreciate. Essentially this boils down to behavior resulting from alcoholism that subjectively I felt helpless in. But I have always been in greater control of all of this than I’ve been able or willing to realize. It’s important to remember that I can only be responsible for my own actions, not the actions of others and they too are likely navigating difficult things. I am doing shadow work, but if there is anything I’ve been great at, it’s self-deceit, so this is sure to be a difficult process.

The action position and card on the bottom of the deck. There’s been a lot that has spurred on the more positive things I’ve experienced in the past year or so. Amongst them the loss of someone whom I loved and felt great connection with. I’ve long doubted that others have ever really loved or cared for me, because I couldn’t feel it. I’m not sure what it is I expected I would feel from another to know that I’m loved, but I think that with her I did. I’ve held onto these feelings for much longer than is probably appropriate given that we only saw one another for about six months and that we were less a couple and more a situation. But my experience with her was critical to what would become a rather tumultuous path to where I am now. My motive for improvement was confusing and frightening because in some sense I was seeking to mend a relationship that I ruined. Confusing because although I’ve spent years wanting to escape addiction for myself I was now motivated to do so for another. That’s an unfair burden to put on someone else. And in any case I cannot do for her what I cannot do for myself. In other words, I have to let what I feel for her go. I have to just let it go. I’ve treated her badly. I should have done something to improve myself while she and I were still seeing one another or I should have… well, I should have done a lot of things and the truth is that no matter how much she means or meant to me the relationship is broken and perhaps the best way to appreciate her is to just give her an infinite amount of time and space for her to tend to her own well-being and ambitions. And that’s fucking hard! I have this unreasonable feeling that she was the last opportunity I’ll have to find love and acceptance in another human being, which is all that I’ve wanted since I began down this path of self-denial and self-destruction. I find myself again and again arriving at this point in my awareness things only for it to drift away and to once again put an unreasonable burden on someone who at this point it has been over with for 2+ years and who has become more idea than person for me. The time we spent together felt good for a time, but It’s over. There’s only me now and I’m the one I need to be giving my love, time, care and energy to.

Would it be backsliding to say that I of course still hope that she and I can one day, if she wants to, have some kind of friendship or romance once again? I don’t know… probably?

I don’t want to take anything more from her than I already have through my hurt and rash, drunken stupidity. If there was ever anything good between us, I hope that it has or can continue to serve her in some way.

Anna, I wish all the best for you. It is still my hope that you will find everything you want and need in this world, whatever it is. Thank you for your kindness and open-mindedness. I’ve never felt as cared for by anyone as I did with you in our brief time together. When I think of you, I’ll do my best to simply appreciate those things. I’m sorry for the harm I did you.

I’m letting you go.

Let’s heal now, okay?

[dandelion-bride]

Post-ALW uncomfortably Lathanderan Gortash:

So now you've done a little wrong and you need to be forgiven by the Vicar and the company you keep / So now you've done a little wrong and you swear you didn't do it but volition left you burdened with a curse

And then you conjure up a fiction to get the pretty girl to listen.

This is the sin that I will confess to release myself from consequence - and everyone can tell.