#TW: EXTREME SALT CONTENT

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 32: Oliver's New Life

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control

Oliver woke up slowly.

He was somewhere comfortable, extremely so, and he was deeply content to curl up on his side and wrap himself in silk sheets, dipping in and out of sleep. He spent a long time in that half-awake, dreamy state before finally waking up fully.

Oliver found himself in the middle of a huge, cloud-soft bed, surrounded by pillows and wrapped in fine sheets and blankets. Indirect sunlight was streaming through the cracks in the curtains, allowing him to see just enough of the room to remember where he was. 

Alexander's home. His bedroom, in Alexander's home.

The first day with his new Master.

Instinctively, his hand flew to his neck and felt around. There were no scars, no bandages, no soreness. Master hadn't taken his blood yet, and he felt an odd swirl of relief and disappointment. He had said that he would give Oliver time to settle, so it was still coming, no doubt. But the vague notion that perhaps his blood wasn't pleasing to Master... 

But no, that thought was quelled as soon as it troubled him. His Master wanted him. Oliver had felt it so clearly, and even now the thought filled him with comfort. He was wanted here.

With his mind calmed, he yawned and stretched, enjoying the comfortable bedding. He'd slept like a log, and from the ancient looking pendulum clock on the wall, he could see that it was now 3pm. He'd slept most of the night and day away, which he probably needed after all that upheaval in his life.

That upheaval was over now that he was finally in his Master's home. 

His stomach growled, an angry reminder that he hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast last night (he was still unsure what to call his meals now that he was mostly nocturnal, but that would have to do). Alexander did say he had free reign of the kitchen, so he'd best put that to good use. 

First, though, he stood up and went to the window, pushing the curtains open to reveal a sunny afternoon, the sun only just dipping below the buildings. He squinted and flinched away from the light, realizing that it was the first sun he'd seen since he'd been abducted. He hadn't even realize how he'd missed the warmth of sunlight.

His room overlooked an ordinary city street, with pedestrians milling by on the tree-lined sidewalks. He recognized it as the most wealthy part of downtown, an area where he didn't usually have much cause to visit. It wasn't all that far from his bookshop, a leisurely twenty minute walk at most.

How strange to think that he'd lived so close to a vampire lord's manor all those years. How strange to think that his former life was so close and yet separated by so much. How strange to think that just a few weeks ago, he had no idea any of this world existed.

His Master had apparently not erased his memories, just as he'd said, because Oliver was having no trouble recalling his bookshop or his former life. Who could say what other alterations Master had made while he was under? He felt so much calmer and more contented than he had the day before, so surely it was for his benefit.

He turned from the window and padded down the stairs. The house was deathly quiet, and he assumed that the other occupant was not yet awake. When he arrived in the kitchen, he opened the window there to get some more sunlight, hoping that it wouldn't disturb Master too much -- he didn't know how sunlight might affect him, but he guessed it wasn't pleasant. For now, it helped the kitchen to feel more cheerful and human while Oliver assessed the food situation.

There was the basket of fruit on the counter that he'd noticed yesterday, as well as a loaf of bread beside -- a good start. The pantry was sparse, but held a few ordinary staples, flour and sugar and salt and potatoes and carrots, as well as some canned vegetables and beans. The largest bounty was in the ice box: eggs, milk, cheese, butter, some paper packets from the butcher's that he'd have to open and identify later, perhaps when it was time to make dinner.

There were also a few glass bottles of what was unmistakably blood. He shuddered involuntarily at the sight. They were labeled "Moonlight Farm, Fancy Grade A". So there were places dedicated to farming what he could only assume was human blood. It made perfect sense -- how else would Alexander have kept himself alive without a thrall? --  but it was still repulsive. He didn't want to think about those humans in the blood farms, no doubt utterly mind wiped and treated like cattle.

Maybe Joe was there, maybe the waitress who had been in the cell next to Emily's. They'd had their minds erased, after all, and had been sold at auction. He felt guilty that he was safe and comfortable in a well-appointed kitchen deciding what to cook, while other innocent humans had probably been turned into little more than mindless dairy cows, tossed into pens and used for their blood for the rest of their miserable lives. It obviously wasn't his fault, and there wasn't anything he could have reasonably done about it, but it was upsetting all the same. The only thing that had stood between him and their fate was some intangible quality of his blood.

He'd feel better about everything once he ate, he was sure.

Since late afternoon was apparently now his breakfast time, he pulled out eggs and cheese, located a frying pan, and began to make an omelette. Starving as he was, he used four eggs, and once he was done making them, used the pan to toast some of the bread. He couldn't find any jam, but butter would do fine. An apple and a glass of milk completed his generous breakfast. Master said he'd have any groceries he needed, and the way he'd been treated in the auction house cells made it clear that vampires preferred their humans to be well fed, so there was no reason to hold back on eating his fill.

As he washed the dishes in the sink, he reflected that he wasn't just eating for himself now, but also eating to feed his new master. A strange thought.

He was still wearing the dress he'd arrived in from the auction house, and as eager as he was to return to the library, that luxurious bathroom was calling for him. Exiting the kitchen, he spared a look towards the front door.

Unlike the auction house, there were no vampire guards here to stop him. Alexander was likely still asleep upstairs. But the thought of even trying the door repulsed him, filling him with sick dread. As if he wanted to betray his new Master by leaving without permission!

Oliver turned and headed up the stairs to his bedroom, looking in the wardrobe. As promised, there was an assortment of outfits there -- more than he had previously owned. There were various frocks with wide necks, but also button-down shirts and slacks, a few casual suits, and an expensive-looking lined wool coat paired with a cheerful red scarf. This, at least, served as proof that Master intended to take him out of the confines of the manor sometimes. The nearby drawers held pajamas and soft cotton underthings. Satisfied at the selection of clothing, he took a cotton robe and headed for the bathroom.

He was clean enough, since he'd been allowed regular bathing at the auction house and in Miss Lily's care, but a nice hot bath was just what he needed to wash away any remnants of anxiety. He turned on the hot water and dumped in a generous helping of floral-scented soap flakes, making the bathroom smell heavenly.

Sinking in the warm water up to his shoulders was like a dream. And he had nowhere to be. He could relax in the bath as long as he felt like. And once he had his fill of that, he could head down to the library and read to his heart's content.

He realized that the foreign feeling washing over him was relief.

He'd spent so much of his life anxious and afraid, quietly terrified of not living up to a father who was long since dead. He used all of his time trying to keep his beloved bookstore afloat, fretting about money and maintenance and pleasing every patron who walked through the door. Second guessing every decision, watching from afar as others found love and excitement.

And now none of that mattered, because he'd found his place, hadn't he? Or rather, his place had found him, and it was bringing up a deep, buried longing to be cared for that he didn't even realize he had. His Master would take care of him and quiet his mind, and all he had to do was offer up his loyalty and his blood. A small price to pay, wasn't it?

He made sure his neck was extra clean, and used some of the sweet-smelling lotion that had been left in a basket for him. He wanted to please.

He could do this. He could be enticing to his master. And he'd be rewarded.

Returning to his bedroom, he slipped on a soft flannel frock, choosing a garment that would keep his neck exposed with no hesitation. He then padded downstairs to enter the library and await his Master waking.

He'd barely gotten a chance to look at the library yesterday, and Oliver was stunned all over again at the amount of books. He decided to occupy himself just browsing the shelves, not picking any one book to read yet. There would no doubt be plenty of time, and for now, he was fascinated by the many different subjects on display. 

There were shelves of ordinary fiction books, of course, albeit stocked with antique and rare editions of classics that would have filled Oliver with envy if he didn't have full access to them himself now. Near the shelves of books he recognized, there was another large section that he realized must consist of fiction written by vampires, the titles and authors all unknown to him. The preoccupation with blood above all other things was apparent just by reading the titles. Did the need for blood consume them so much? He supposed it must, if they were willing to pay such vast sums for thralls.

The section on vampire history that he had perused before was flanked by sections covering the histories of witches, werewolves, vampire hunters, faefolk, and a particularly extensive collection of books on merfolk. There was surprisingly little human history, and nothing more recent than the turn of the century. Vampires, perhaps, didn't concern themselves that much with human history.

He felt himself strangely drawn to a particular shelf further towards the back of the library. Half the books were bound in richly colored leather, embossed with gold and silver and embedded with jewels, and the other half were so tattered and worn that Oliver wouldn't dare try to pick them up. He flipped through one, and realized with surprise what they were. Spellbooks. Magic. And no reason to doubt now that it was real.

The sound of footsteps behind him startled him out of his reverie. "Hey. Evening."

He whipped around to see his Master there, hair and shirt disheveled, sleepy-eyed but looking at Oliver as though he were the only thing he had ever desired. A smile spread slowly across Alexander's face, and Oliver felt like his heart might stop.

Part 31 >> Masterlist >> Part 33

Role Reversal AU Part One

Next time, Oliver finally gets bitten.

Extras: Emily's Crayons || Fitz in the Snow || Fitz's Volunteer Part One

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[spearxwind]

forgive me if im just uneducated/you dont wanna explain but wtf is rcd anon talking about idk who rcd is

rcdart was an artist on here who dabbled in many popular fandoms (especially marvel, bravest warriors, and steven universe) and had pretty nice art, so they were pretty popular. Around 2016 or so they underwent a very extreme and very abrupt art style shift, where their art became more stylized but more importantly, took a turn into becoming transphobic and also racist.

Their most notable criticism was that they would draw captain america (who they headcanonned as trans) with a huge chest and huge thighs and often huge lips (though they gave huge lips to pretty much all of their designs)

Their racist drawings included drawing black people with caricature features like light lips, weird cheekbones, exaggerated noses, and buck tooth gaps; drawing latino women as very muscular and with facial hair (also could not draw a single latino woman without a sombrero for some reason).

I never saw their nsfw blog (twitter account? idk what the hell it was) but people ALLEGEDLY say that they would draw a lot of really trans fetishistic content and doubled down on the transphobia. I havent been able to verify that myself so take it with a grain of salt.

Their big downfall catalyst was a pretty awful and unrecognizeable drawing of finn from star wars which basically set off all the callouts and stuff and put them in the public eye.

Their case is pretty well documented if you look up the 'rcdart' url youll find tons of images and tons of info. If you'd like to take a glimpse at what they posted, their blog is somewhat saved on the internet archive as well (and obvious TW for the racism and potentially triggering transphobic art)

Its really unfortunate cause they DID have cool stuff going on in some of their drawings, but they were so adamant on cranking up the caricature vibes that the charm is just lost

#unrebloggable cause again i dont want this to escape containment #so sorry anon you had to find out this way #ask #anon #theres probably a good youtube video out there but i havent seen any myself so i cant recommend more than this

[insignificantfailure]

my experience with eating disorders as someone who recovered. maybe this could help someone understand what it can lead to.

[tw for eds + blood]

I grew up as a mid-large size kid, so comments about my weight and advice on how to change were the norm in my life. honestly, it didn't occur to me that I could actually do something about it until around 15 yo (I am 25 now, recovered for at least six years). I regret ever finding out that eating disorders are a thing. it was through a fanfic, and as the stupid kid I was back then I actually believed the romanticised content I read and that it would make others finally stop picking on me. it did not help that I met this friend who told me she also used to be my size, but that with her (detailed) tips on how to be disordered I could look like her too, and fast.

but as excited as I was to hear that my body finally looked appealing, I could barely exist anymore. and that's when I discovered that I could eat absolutely anything I could ever want (little did I know) if I made myself throw up immediately after. some calories already get absorbed into the body because there's an enzyme that breaks down glucose right through saliva lol, but I didn't know that either then.

shit went downhill from there. it started slowly, with only skipping dinner, to skipping breakfast as well, to saving all the money for lunch that I would've had at school, and soon enough I was only eating about two times a week. besides, I was exercising 2-3 hours every single day without rest. my body was in constant pain, I was extremely dizzy, couldn't focus on school or anything else really. one time I even dropped on the street when I was getting off the bus, no one helped me but that's not the point. in about a year I had gotten to the point where I was underweight, like it would hurt when I sat down, people would say they could feel my bones when they hugged me, I had no strength to get out of bed most days so exercising was impossible and yet I was still pushing myself at times. people started worrying, but I was also getting praised by everyone, saying how great I look and that I need to keep going so that I don't get fat again. they were encouraging me and saying "this is exactly how I like you!".

so I stated combining the two: not eat for a few days, then binge all day and respectively throw up all day. I'm not even going to mention the use of 5-6 laxatives at a time and they still wouldn't work, they'd only make me cry in pain. those cramps felt like hell.

I could only eat by myself, never in front of others. one day when I was left home alone I was really looking forward to having these cheese puffs with the security that I'll get rid of them from my body as soon as possible. but...

I tried, and tried and tried and tried. my face felt all hot, my head was pulsing, my throat got all painful from my nails and all the rubbing to just get that reflex already because I had lost it at that point. I was numb. I was numb to salt, to vinegar, to any disgusting thing, nothing really made me throw up anymore. so I was hanging my head above the toilet contracting my stomach and pressing down hard on it and had my fingers deep down my throat for like twenty minutes with no result.

after all, I did get something out of it.

a fuckton of blood.

it kept coming out of my nose and mouth, like it simply wouldn't stop. I ran out of the bathroom but I just fell to the floor on the hallway. my shirt was bloody, so were my hands, it even got on the carpet. I soaked so many tissues in blood until I finally found a bag that I could spit into, and by that time I had lost all energy and just laid on the floor unable to move except for lifting my head a bit to use the bag.

I don't know how long I laid there. an hour? two? I genuinely believed I was going to die. everything was numb, I could barely see or think, I couldn't move a finger. I have no idea how I came back to my senses in the end. I apparently filled that bag halfway, everything looked like a fucking murder scene, I'll never be able to forget the red everywhere. I tried my best in my state to clean up everything but my family wouldn't have noticed anyway lol since they didn't give a shit about me. so when they came home I just greeted them as usual and never spoke a word of it. I only told my mother like a year ago and she had no reaction really, she was just fake worried to appeal as a good mother.

I tried to take it slower after that. I still starved myself, I still forced myself to throw up, but less and less because that was pretty traumatising, as suicidal as I am. I'd like to do it on my own terms if that even makes any sense lol.

but over the years I started having a healthier relationship with food, bit by bit. I can kinda eat in public now even though sometimes I still get anxiety, I can talk about food without getting triggered. I gained quite a lot of weight but somehow I'm more confident now than back then. I can cook without thinking about calories anymore. it's relieving. I still can't go on diets in a healthy way though so I kinda avoid losing weight. I just try to eat intuitively and get some exercise in from time to time and walk a lot because I genuinely enjoy it. it's not the healthiest lifestyle but it's nowhere near as bad as back then. it took me years to leave those habits behind.

so to anyone struggling, please know that I does get better. I know how difficult it is to stop because it's literally addictive, but believe me, it is possible to recover and enjoy food again and like your body. so... please consider that this can happen and stay safe. recovery is possible, I promise you, and I only wish you the best.

#personal #tw ed descussion #eating disoder trigger warning #tw ana recovery #tw bulemia #depressing shit #tw depressing thoughts #recovery #recovered ed

[txemrn]

Summary: After Tatum throws a New Year's Eve party, Ethan finds a way to make the night memorable.

Word Count: ~2600

Warning/Rating: teen; mild language; fairly fluffy; *TW* there is a semi-angsty plot to this story that may be upsetting to more sensitive readers, but as the writer, I'd like to let the story unfold how I've written it; if you are more sensitive and aren't sure about this (and there is nothing wrong with that!) expand this post, and quickly scroll to the bottom. After the tags, you will see in red "Trigger Warnings". Hopefully this will give you guidance on whether or not to read. I don't say this to be "shocking"; this plot has been written about many, many times before; but I just want to give readers an opportunity to choose.

A/N: Some of these characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry; special thanks to @sfb123 for helping me steer through some kinks! You rock!

~🖤~

Surveying the large, living quarters of the townhouse, a contented sigh escapes her lips. Silence. The last of their party guests left almost an hour ago, and now only the wreckage of the new year celebration remains. Metallic confetti litters the floor along with noise makers and top hats. Empty glasses line the bar and sink area of the kitchen as black and gold balloons dance with the subtle draft of the room.

Entertaining people and playing the 'hostess with the mostest' has always been Tatum's niche. She finds it therapeutic to create a welcoming, home-like atmosphere where starving hearts and bellies do not exist–something she dreamed about as a little girl.

This year was different though.

Tatum holds her balance against the sink as she slips off her kitten heels and into her house-shoes, her slender feet relishing in the relief of the padding. She slowly raises back up, minding the curve to her sore back as she begins to pour out half-empty glasses of warm champagne and sparkling juice.

A sudden glint of metal flashes in the darkness of the hallway, catching her attention. And she smiles, her eyes admiring every step he takes, drawing closer to her. Ethan.

With his jacket already shrugged off, he unclips his bow tie and suspenders, tossing them on the chaise lounge. His thinning salt-and-pepper curls are tousled handsomely out of place. Tatum instantly feels his eyes on her as he relaxes a shoulder against the doorframe.

"Did you check on the babes?" Tatum gently fills the top dishwasher rack.

"Mhmm," he hums, a playful grin crawling across his face. 

"Are they all four still asleep?"

"Finally," Ethan smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. "Jonah… he just–"

Tatum stops drying her crystal cake stand, turning towards her husband at the mention of their eight-year-old grandson. Though he was the oldest, he was the most sensitive of the bunch. And it had been an extremely hard year of change for him.  "Do you think… um, maybe I should go in and–"

Ethan tisks his tongue, subtly shaking his head. "He's asleep now."

"But maybe he just needs a few more cuddles, or–"

"Tate, don't worry," Ethan steps forward. Placing his hands on her shoulders. "Just let him rest. He knows we're here."

Tatum grows quiet, biting her lip as she turns her worried expression back down the dark hallway. She clasps her hands together, swallowing the lump in her throat.  "I guess I just wanted another excuse to hold my grandbabies a little longer tonight–"

"Baby," Ethan croons, stepping closer. "No tears, remember?"

"I know, I know," she lifts up her glasses, dabbing at her eyes.  "They're just… getting so big," she titters through her tears. "I need time to slow down."

Tatum clears her throat as she suddenly catches her reflection in the microwave. Her hair is still elegantly pulled back into a classic bun; the diamond embellishments of her hairpins bring out the brilliant silver strands, crowning her once-platinum locks.

She gently pulls at the thinning skin around her eyes… and then her neck as she notices her lipstick settling into the deep grooves around her lips.

"Still enchanting," Ethan watches her intently. "Y'know? I think you are possibly more stunning than that first day of orientation." He wraps his arms around her shoulders. "Tanned skin… long blonde hair  pushed back by those sunglasses…Those low-rise jeans showing off your–oh, what's the thing called?"

She chuckles. "My tramp stamp? I can't believe you remember all of that."

Ethan nuzzles into her neck before peeking back up to meet her gaze in the reflective appliance door. "How could I forget? It was one of the happiest days of my life."

Tatum closes her eyes, pressing her cheek against her husband's stubbled face. The sting of tears threaten to fall as she savors his warm touch. This man…

Lost in the moment, Tatum drops her dish towel on the ground. "Oh," she laughs at herself, pulling out of his arms. She plunges her hands back into sink with dirty dishes. "I guess I better get back to work, maybe even take a few trash bags out. I really need to-'" she suddenly stops, feeling Ethan's crystal eyes glisten with adoration.  "What?" She chuckles, furrowing her brow.

A rosy swirl grows on Ethan’s cheeks as he shakes his head.

"Tell me," her voice softens.

He lets out a sharp exhale. And then offers a crooked grin, slowly extending his arm to his bride. "Come here."

Tatum cocks her head suspiciously, biting her bottom lip.  She hesitantly pads closer to him, the hem of her dress pooling around her slippers. She cautiously places her petite hand into his large palm.

He grips tightly to her delicate fingers before pulling her into his embrace, their gazes remain fixed to one another. "Dance with me."

Tatum fumbles into a titter, covering her mouth. "You? Want to dance?" 

He chuckles before guiding her arms behind his neck. He then quickly lays his own strong hands on her lower back. "Just dance with me."

"But… there’s no music–"

Ethan clears his throat. "Should auld acquaintance be forgot…"  They both fall into snickers, pressing their foreheads together as Ethan struggles with finding the right notes. "Let's try something else. Alexa," he calls out over his shoulder, "play our song." As the first chord of the familiar piano intro softly builds, Ethan subtly sways to the beat.

Tatum grips endearingly around Ethan's neck, matching his movements. Listening to him quietly hum along to Forest Blakk, she takes refuge in her husband’s arms. 

"... paint a map back to the start, leaving footprints to remind us: where you go, I go. And if you fall, I'll fall…"

Ethan plants sweet kisses along her hairline as she nuzzles into his shoulder, moving her arms to hug his waist snuggly. Feeling his warmth surrounding her body, smelling his woodsy scent: she's home.

The ambient lighting of the room casts a gentle glow across the open space, refracting against picture frames mounted to the wall. Still swaying against her husband's body, Tatum slightly opens an eye to take in the collage of their life. 

She settles in on a picture from their wedding day. It was a candid shot taken by a friend that showcased an unflattering double-chin of the bride, her nose scrunched up as she laughed at a secret joke her groom had whispered in her ear.  With wild, tousled waves and a pink lipstick smudge on his cheek, Ethan wore a bright smile, bearing all of his teeth that people still talk about to this day.

It was a perfectly imperfect picture to sum up the perfectly imperfect union of a perfectly imperfect couple that was always meant to be.  But even after thirty-six years of marriage, it still wasn't enough time together.

"Tatum?" Ethan whispers, her name saturated with sadness.

She quickly peers up at her husband, noticing the tears collecting in his eyes. She cups his face in her hands, her gaze growing concerned.

"I… I'm so sorry," he chokes out, bowing his head while his jaw begins to quake.

"Rams–?"

"I… I made a mistake, Tate. A… huge one." He takes hold of her hands as he considers his words. "Tatum Ramsey… you're the love of my life…" a tear gently rolls across the weathered planes of his face, their stares locked on one another. "And… I failed to tell you that. Every day—"

"Baby–" her eyes begin to burn with her own emotions as she reaches up to brush away the wetness from his face.

"I should've told you, Tate," he swallows the lump in his throat, "I should've told you every damn day… that I love you."

"Ethan," she breathes, pulling him closer to rest her cheek to his. "It doesn't matter if you told me or not. I always, always felt it. Everyday. Sometimes in the most…  unconventional of ways," she titters, a jovial grin breaking out onto his face. "But I always knew."

Ethan presses his lips gently to Tatum's mouth before whisking her back into rhythm with the music floating around them. 

Laying her head back on Ethan’s chest, a cold chill suddenly travels down Tatum's spine. Something's not right; something… is missing. She nuzzles into his body further, but still something is wrong. She can hear her pulse in her ears, and she can feel the rise and fall of her own chest…

But as far as her husband?

Silence. 

She abruptly pulls back from him, gripping tightly to his shirt.  Her breathing grows heavy as she untucks the white cotton fabric from his slacks, frantically unfastening each button.

Finally pulling the material back, Tatum's air is stolen from her lungs as her body grows limp.

An array of watercolor blues, violets and haunting grays splash across his broad chest. With trembling fingers, she presses her hand to the large, flesh-colored surgical scar climbing up the middle of his chest.

And suddenly the room fades to black as the memory from three months ago floods before her eyes.

It was too much. It was all too much…

------

Three Months Earlier…

"Rams, do you mind?" Tatum turns her back to her husband, motioning for him to fasten the zipper of her elegantly-beaded gown. "I can't reach." 

Giving her a crooked smile, he stops fidgeting with his bowtie, and easily cinches the dress closed. He kisses the back of her neck before slipping a hand down her full hips. "This is beautiful."

"Do you like it?" She dramatically poses like a Hollywood starlet, batting her fake eyelashes. 

"No," Ethan twirls her around, his mouth meeting hers. "I love it."

"Well, good," Tatum giggles, walking back into her closet to grab her clutch. "The recipient of the Lasker award needs hot arm candy." As she steps back out of the en suite, she notices Ethan balling up his fist before relaxing it, his eyebrows furrowing.  "You okay?"

"Hrmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine,” he winces, stretching out his fingers again. “I think I pushed a little too hard moving Dad yesterday."

"Are you sure? We don't have to go–"

"Tate–"

"It's been a stressful week," her voice softens as she fixes the gray waves on the back of his head. "The coordinators know about your dad and the stroke and… moving him into hospice." Her eyes begin to glisten, "they–" she clears her throat, "they know about our son being deployed back to the Middle East. Maybe we should–"

"Tate, I'm fine," he grins. "Just overworked muscles." 

"Overworked, period," she grumbles.

Even though Ethan retired last year, he was still dedicating more time than ever to his first love: medicine. Research, conferences, special speaking engagements and even a new book deal have robbed him of much of his freetime.

He kisses her pursed lips. "After Christmas."

She sighs, unable to hide a growing grin. "After Christmas," she repeats. 

"We'll finally have time off. We’ll bring in the new year–just the two of us… and… we'll talk about cutting back. I promise."

---

The evening was like a dream; the Lasker commissioners and event coordinators developed quite an opulent experience in an honor of Ethan's achievements. They even surprised him with a few keynote speakers from his past, including colleagues from Johns Hopkins and the diagnostics team.

After the ceremony, Ethan and Tatum were separated, mingling with world-class physicians and scientists. Tatum was deep into a conversation with two midwives from Denmark when she felt a pair of piercing blue eyes admiring her from afar. Looking up, she was instantly entranced. Smiling at her husband, she watches him push up his bifocals as he sucked in his bottom lip, teasing her with a wink.

Tatum looked away, but only for a moment to chase the heat away from her cheeks. Gaining composure, she looked back to where Ethan was standing.

But he wasn't there.

If only she had been paying closer attention, Tatum would've noticed the ashen-tone to his skin…

If only she had been paying closer attention, she would've noticed the beads of sweat pouring from his brow…

If only she had been paying closer attention, she would've noticed his body was saying, 'goodbye'...

After nineteen minutes in tireless attempts to revive him, his heartbeat returned. But the surgery…

It was too much. It was all too much…

------

Present Day...

The sudden clanking of hard metal hits the wooden floor, jarring Tatum from her thoughts. She quickly glances around the room, noticing instantly she's once again alone. 

The sound grows closer, rolling across the ground like a marble until it gently crashes against her slipper. Looking down at the golden trinket, she subtly shakes her head in disbelief as she cautiously lowers herself onto her knees.                                                         

Ethan's wedding ring.

She holds the precious jewelry to her chest as she glances back to their wedding picture, large tears coursing down her cheeks. "I miss you too," she whispers into the darkness as she succumbs to her sniffles.

"Gigi?"

Tatum startles, turning to see her oldest grandson watching her from the hallway. "Jonah," she brightens, wiping away the wetness in her eyes. "What are you doing up, baby?"

He rubs his eyes. "Couldn't sleep."

Noticing his sad splotchy eyes, Tatum holds her arms up as he crashes safely into her embrace. "Are you missing your daddy?" Snuggled into her shoulder, the young boy nods his head quietly. Tatum gently rubs his back. "I miss him too."

Jonah sits up on his grandma's lap, his eyes trained to the gold band hiding between her fingers. "But, Papa told me Dad's busy being a hero."

"That's right, baby. Your dad–" Tatum pauses, registering what her grandson just said.  "Papa?" Tatum clears her throat, "--you talk to… Papa?" 

"Uh-huh," he nonchalantly answers. "Well, sometimes."

Tears begin to collect in Tatum's eyes, but she tries her best to keep calm. She begins to comb her fingers through his blond locks. "What do you talk about?"  Jonah giggles, shrugging his shoulders. "What?" Tatum titters as her grandson laughs harder. She begins to playfully tickle him, poking at his tummy. "Are you just telling stories?"

"No," he squeals into more snickers.

"Is it a secret?"

"No," he singsongs, becoming more bashful. "It's just… I know it's silly, but… sometimes I tell him about school, and baseball… and Mom… and Josiah, Isaac and Embry…  and–and my science projects–"

"Hey," Tatum gently grabs his chin, making him look into her eyes. "None of that is silly. And I know he loves hearing about those things," her jaw begins to tremble. "And I know he loves hearing from you... he loves you so much."

Jonah smiles proudly as his eyes shine from unshed tears. He hugs his grandmother's neck, feeling the warmth and comfort of her hold. "He loves you too, Gigi."

Tatum's eyes squeeze tight as a sob bubbles out. Gathering herself, she takes her grandson's cheeks in her hands. "Did…Papa tell you that?"

He nods guiltily.  "Gigi, did I make you sad? Mommy said not to bring up Papa because it'll make you sad. I--I didn't mean to--"

"No, baby," she whispers as she begins to cry harder, hugging him tighter. "I'm... so, so happy. You always make me so, so happy. " She tenderly presses a kiss against his temple. "And you know? You can always talk to me about Papa. It actually makes me happy talking about him."

"Really?" He gives a curious look to his grandmother. "Why?"

Tatum takes a moment to gather her thoughts. She glances back to her wedding photo, squeezing tightly to Ethan's wedding ring between her fingers. "I guess talking about him makes me... not feel so lonely, like... he's still here with us."

"Because he is still with us, Gigi."

"That's right, baby," Tatum whispers softly, pushing back her tears as she pulls her grandson in for a hug. "When did you get so smart?" They both titter as he sits up on her lap, shrugging his shoulders. "Tell you what: I know it's late, so you can't tell your mom. But how about we camp out here, drink some hot chocolate and watch one of Papa's favorite movies?"

"Really?"

Tatum boops his nose. "Really."

~🖤~

Tags (list updated 9/22; if you'd like to be added/ removed, please message me!)

@alj4890 @ao719 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @bisexualdisasteracd @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

TRIGGER WARNINGS: major character death; brief medical discussion; discussion of grieving and the afterlife

#open heart #choices open heart #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #choices fanfic #choices oph #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!oc #ethan x tatum #tathan #ethan ramsey x tatum erikson #new year's ever

[rottenhumangarbage]

tw: descriptive ed behaviours

i know recovery is really hard, and not everyone is ready for it. that said, here is some harm reduction advice for eds

- laxatives generally take a while to work and your food will already have been mostly digested by then. they only remove waste material and can really mess up your electrolyte levels when abused. better to eat smaller meals after binging than abusing laxatives.

- purging by vomiting is similar to laxative abuse in the way that your food has often already had a lot of the calories absorbed, your teeth, nails, and of course your esophagus can be severely damaged and your electrolytes can also be thrown out of balance. again, better to follow up binges with smaller meals rather than purging.

- after an extended period of fasting, youre at risk of refeeding syndrome which is extremely dangerous. eat small things in small amounts and avoid salty or processed carbs. try fruit or veg with a lot of water such as melon or cucumber, or small amounts of high fat, phosphate containing food like cheese or yogurt, maybe with a multivitamin. reintroduce food slowly and do not let yourself binge after an extended fast.

- dont go straight from a large binge to a heavy restriction. go from binge to normal eating first or a binge-restrict cycle will be easier to fall into and harder to break.

- ideally you shouldnt eat less than 1200 calories a day, your brain needs 500 just to function and youll still lose weight on 1200. diets telling you to eat 200 a day long term are very unsustainable and put you at risk. eating 200 calories a day for maybe a day or two definitely wont kill you, but you should aim for a few days a week where you eat 1200 or above - or all days a week, but i understand that may be a scary concept for people who are struggling with restriction.

- dont fast for more than 72 hours. if i cant stop you from doing so, then please make sure you check your general wellbeing, vital signs, and blood pressure if possible.

- make sure you drink more water than you usually would than on normal eating days when/if fasting. try not to drink more than 4L on any day, and especially not in a short time period (drinking 4L in 1-3 hours puts your brain at risk) "Overhydration can lead to water intoxication. This occurs when the amount of salt and other electrolytes in your body become too diluted" Source: healthline

- after youve lost maybe more than 10lb, use tape measures rather than scales because water fluctuation is going to make more of a difference which may not make you feel that good.

- light exercise is good to retain muscle and keep your metabolism from dropping too much - doesnt have to be hard workouts, but a good walk or even laughter can help.

- try to eat more protein, fibre and healthy fats than you do carbs, however on an average day you do need a little carbs. keto diets only prevent water retention long term.

- caffeine is an appetite suppressant but also increases heart rate, blood pressure and anxiety. feel free to drink it but know your limits.

- artificial sweeteners may make you hungrier. doesnt mean you cant enjoy them on occasion though !! "Inconsistent coupling between sweet taste and caloric content can lead to compensatory overeating and positive energy balance." Source: ncbi

- GET ENOUGH SLEEP. lack of sleep significantly increases hunger and can reduce metabolism, making you feel worse throughout the day. "Laboratory studies have clearly shown that sleep deprivation can alter the glucose metabolism and hormones involved in regulating metabolism, that is, decreased leptin levels and increased ghrelin levels." Source: ncbi

#ana #mia #anamia #notproana #proana #notproanajustusingtags #thinspo #ed #ednotsheeran #prorecovery #edtumblr #eatingdisorder #rexxie #rexie #notpro

[kpopjust4u]

Colour me selfish.

Post Date: 1st September 2022 Content: Angst(ish)/ Fluff - Day6 Jae x Reader WC: 2.1K TW?: Themes of Jealousy/ Best Friends to Lovers/ “And they were roommates”/ College Au Request?: Yes Masterlist                                    Prompt list

Prompts: 38 - “I hate you” 40 - “I could use a hug right now” 49 - “Are you jealous?”

You’ve had a crush on your roommate Jae for the longest time ever but have never spoken a word about it; not that you would anyway in worries that’ll ruin everything you’ve built together for your friendship. 

Your usual college day routine was to get coffee before class started, sit through two of your classes then go for lunch, and it was ALWAYs with Jae, Christian and Alex. Never missed a day without having lunch with them unless something extremely important came up. It was like a ritual. 

Of course, you had to be at the loudest table in the hall, but that couldn’t be helped, Jae’s laugh could be heard across the country but you loved it despite the number of stinking looks that others give you when trying to eat their food. 

As always, Jae was the last to grab his food, leaving the table to go get some after ranting and raving about this guy in his class that would not stop talking about some girl he thinks he was courting, but it was obvious she was just being nice not to hurt him. 

Just out of chance, your eyes follow Jae around the hall, for some reason carefully watching him like you had to be ready to protect him at any given chance. 

Although your face drops the minute you see a girl, who you’ve never seen in your life go up to Jae, heartbreaking the minute you see a grin on his face as he wraps his arms around her, bringing her in for a hug. 

Disconnecting from the hug, the girl caresses his arm, discussing with him something that he must’ve found funny by the way his laugh fills the hall once again. 

If you didn’t speak about how much you hated the interaction that you witnessed, your face surely showed it. 

“So, who’s Jae with at the moment?” you asked, flicking your pen in between your fingers as they briefly look up, digging into the rest of their food, “That’s Chloe, one of his friends and she’s in one of Jae’s classes”, Alex spoke, watching you carefully as you drop your head.

“Right...” you scoff to yourself, the word friend could’ve been taken with a pinch of salt with the way that they greeted each other. “I’m going to the library, laters,” you add, forcing a smile before dashing out of the hall.

Alex and Christian look at each other both confused and worried, “I’ll go see what’s wrong, see you in a bit,” Christian rushes to say, chasing after you and leaving the two friends behind in the hall.

You’re cramped up in the corner of the room where the computers were, cramming all of your work in front of you to try and get inspiration to get some research done for your project that was due at the end of the week.

In frustration, you face palm the desk, arms dropping to your sides before getting interrupted by a pat on the back and a recognisable voice gently asking if you’re okay at the side of you.

“Huh?... Oh hi, Chris,” you mumble, lifting your head up to see who was there, forcing the fakest smile you could as he kneels towards you, “Tell me, what’s wrong?”.

Of course, it was about Jae and that Chloe girl, but you lifted your papers into your hands, waving them gently as if to show Christian that it was your work that was bothering you, however, he wasn’t falling for the bait. 

“Are you jealous?” Chris asks, earning a confused look from you as you scrunch your eyebrows together, tilting your head to the side as you stare at your friend blankly.

“I mean, about Jae and Chloe, with those two being close, are you jealous?” Chris adds the context to his question in which your face clearly gives him the answer once the mention of her name falls from his lips.

“I’m not jealous... I just... I just like Jae, a lot,” you answer but with an almost whine, not believing that those were actually coming out of your mouth to your other flatmate. Yes he was a friend too but it was awkward, it was also his friend that you were talking about. 

“So you like Jae? Is it friendly like or “like-like”, Chris teases, nudging you lightly to see the smile that slowly creeps on your face?

Taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but giggle, Chris knew the answer and you knew he was just trying to be that guy friend who teases their girl friend about their crushes. 

“I like, like him,” you reply, nudging Chris back when he laughs at you.

Back at the flat, you’re in the kitchen, leaning on the countertop with your head dangling over the work that you tried to get done earlier on in the day but the discussion about you liking Jae lasted a lot longer than you’d liked it to be but at least it was peaceful in the flat for you to try and focus. For now.

That was until the door goes, and a laugh bound of laughter fills the flat. Your heart sinks into your stomach, realising who’s home as your head falls into your hands.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jae calls out, throwing down his backpack by the kitchen door before going to the fridge, ready to raid it of all it’s items.

“Hi,” you bluntly reply, tidying up your work into a neat pile as you attempted to avoid his eye contact as he made his way around the kitchen.

“You know because you love me? Can you do my homework?” Jae asks, pushing the pieces of paper in front of you, as you glare at him, shaking your head in protest. 

Jae leans on the countertop opposite, attempting to give you the puppy eyes, smiling ear to ear in hopes that you’ll give into him. But of course, you do, anything to get him off your back, and not only that, you’d do anything for him to see you in a different light other than a roommate and a friend. 

“I hate you... fine,” you sigh in defeat, as he gets up, running around the counter to give you a quick hug before running out of the room, not before he asks, “Are you joining in on movie night tonight?”.

“I can’t, I’ve got work to do, and now your homework,” you laugh, holding his pieces of paper up, grabbing your work as you push past him, making him laugh as you stick your middle finger up to him before disappearing into the bedroom. 

with or without you, Chris and Jae flick through the films on Netflix, wondering what they were going to put on, before coming across a new Sci-Fi film which caught their interest. 

“Where’s Y/N at?” Chris asks, reaching for his drink on the table, his answer is received in the form of a point of a finger towards the hall from Jae, who then uses quotation marks to say that you were doing your work.

“Man, I have to tell you something,” Jae suddenly comes out with, making Chris’ eyes fly wide open at the statement, leaning back to hear his friend out.

“I really like someone, and I just don’t know how to tell them,” he continues as Chris sips his drink carefully, “Who’s this lucky girl you’ve got a crush on then?” he tries to pry but to no avail, Jae puts his fingers to his lips, as if to lock them, throwing away the key. 

After giving some advice on how to tell his crush he liked them, Jae just sits back with a blush taint on his cheeks, pointing to the TV as he presses play for the movie to start. 

Thinking of an excuse to tell you about Jae, Chris fumbles to find his phone, nudging Jae to put an order in for delivery before getting to his feet, and making his way to your room.

“Come on in,” you call out in response to the knock on the door, “It’s only me, I’m ordering food, add what you want to it,” Chris replies, placing his phone down on the desk as you pick it up reluctantly. 

You knew you weren’t hungry but you knew that Chris wasn’t going to let you go without food either, so instead of having a petty little argument, you continue to scroll through the menu to try and find something you could eat later on. 

“So uh, Jae likes someone, but he won’t tell me. he’s just asked for advice on how to tell them” Chris whispers as he takes a seat on your bed. 

“It’s probably Chloe,” you whine lowly, turning to face your friend who’s looking empathetically at you as the name was brought up, “Probably,” he replies, taking back his phone before exiting the room, leaving you with that fact to wonder and ponder on. 

Despite your food being placed in front of you a little later on, you couldn’t even think about eating, not when your stomach was churning at the fact that Chris just had to drop on you when he came in originally.

So much so, tears start to prick at your eyes as you slowly start to sob into your arms, painting your papers with your tears. 

From outside of the room, Jae goes towards his room but hears the sound of muffled cries come from your room, his heart sinking as he hated hearing you cry and thought to himself that you must be so stressed about your work that it’s overwhelming you. 

Gently knocking on the door, Jae lets himself in, noticing you on your desk with tears rolling down your face as you turn to look at him, “I heard you crying, are you okay?”.

Unable to make eye contact with him, your eyes roamed around him at the door, shaking your head at his question as you slump in your chair, Jae makes his way towards you carefully, kneeling down next to you as he puts a hand on yours. 

“I could use a hug right now,” you cry, wiping your tears before falling into Jae’s open arms that wrap around you gently, his fingers play with your hair carefully as he just lets you cry into his chest without question. 

“So I heard you have a little crush?” you tease through your cries, to try and cheer yourself up as well as indirectly asking him without jumping straight to conclusions. 

Jae smiles as he nods, and your heart gets lodged into your throat, waiting for him to confide in you about how he could ask Chloe out. 

As much as you wanted to not know, you couldn’t hold back any longer when the words come flying out of your mouth, taking Jae by surprise when it comes out sounding a little harsher than it should’ve been, “So, it’s Chloe right?”.

The long pause of silence makes you feel like you were going to throw up, he wasn’t confirming or denying it, just staring at you blankly at the questions. It was clear he was thinking carefully about whether or not it was the right time to tell you that it wasn’t her but someone else.

“Are you jealous, of Chloe?” Jae asks as his face saddens, looking down at your carpet as you scoff, wanting to defend yourself but you don’t answer, giving a clear indication to Jae whose heart also sinks into his stomach.

“Y/N, it’s not her... Who I have a crush on,” he softly spoke, making your head snap to look at him, all confused as you wondered why he asked if you were jealous of her.

“It’s you... I have a crush on you,” Jae drops the bombshell on you as all you could do was look at him, lost for words as your heart races out of your chest.

Did he just confess to you? About you? It’s you? He has a crush on you? You never thought it was possible and thought he’d never feel that way for you like you do for him. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made it awkward,” he apologises as he goes to walk out of your room but you pull him back by his wrist, pulling him into a hug as you softly cry into his chest again, “Don’t say sorry, ever. I was worried you’d never like me back that way”.

Unable to help it, Jae laughs nervously, not really expecting you to confess too, he had no clue that you liked him either. 

“I was kind of being selfish, I wanted to tell you before anyone took my love away from me,” he adds, making you look up at with stupidly, shaking your head and laughing as you pinch his cheek, “No one could take me away from you, Jae”.

Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop songs #day6 #day6 imagines #day6 jae #park jaehyung #jae scenarios #jae imagines #day6 imagines jae #eaj #eaj scenarios

[the-living-embodiment-of-moss]

TW suicidalness, self hatred

i just talked to my mom about going to a gender care specialist. I thought it would help me and her and everyone around. I even told her what it was and in detail why I think it would help. it trailed off into how she didn't think it would help at all, she didn't know why I wanted a gender dysphoria diagnosis. it trailed off into how I didn't show any "signs" as a kid, and the thinks that the reason I think I'm a boy is because of social pressure. which traveled off into that she doesn't believe that I'm trans.

she doesn't believe me.

she doesn't see me as a boy, she thinks I'm faking.

I might not write the rest of this correctly, because I'm going emotionally and memorially numb (trauma response)

but I just, I can't even look at trans content right now. I can't think about gender right now, if I see any feminine pronoun it's gonna get worse.

it's been almost two years since I've come out, and she doesn't believe me.

she admitted she might not even believe me at six years.

I'VE SPENT PROBABLY HUNDREDS OF HOURS, trying to fix myself. make myself acceptable. make people see me as a boy, to work on myself.

I've worked so hard. I've been through depression, I've been through starvation, self harm, suicide attempt you name it.

I've spent so much time on myself for her, and she doesn't see me as the one thing I have set in stone. I feel useless.

sorry if this is cringe. even typing it I know it is. but I just want to kill myself. I can't wait. I can't look at her, listen to her bullshit again. I see my trans friends and most trans people I've met online at my age or even younger, getting support, hormones, binders. I'm so sick of it. I feel so ill.

I just want to kill myself. I want to have the courage to go downstairs, grab a kitchen knife, and shove it through my stomach. I wish I had killed myself in the 6th grade.

I want to run away. I want to see her crying, knowing it's her fucking fault for most of my hurt. my ptsd, my anxiety, extreme boundary issues, it comes from her.

and she's fucking up my life once again.

this is so fucking cringe. I'm crying uncontrollably. my friends probably hate me and that's why I'll never be fucking good enough for anybody.

I hate myself. I'm not even a dog. I'm not even a boy. if I never get to be either, then I'm nothing but a shell.

I'm sorry if this continues, I thought it went away. but if you don't hear from me for a week or two, I might be gone. probably wish I am, or you'll be hearing a lot of vents.

sorry this is so cringe, I'm sorry if you read it.

this isn't even the way I wanted to word it. this is just fucking useless bullshit like anything else I do.

a few seconds later, she apologized and she booked an appointment.

I feel sorry for her, she has really bad bipolar and just went through a divorce. and she loves me. I'm just not sure if I can forgive everything she's done.

please take this whole post with a giant grain of salt. I'm not gonna die, it was just a lot of raw emotions. I just need some reassurance, time, and a emotional support system. I'll be alright.

#not gonna die don't worry

[slut4sway]

i barely know if i’ll be alive tomorrow

let alone if the people i trust’ll stay

so all i need while i’m breathin is to be content this evenin

find hope in tomorrow either way

•

cause i got hope in tomorrow and regret in yesterday

so maybe you could find a way to forgive me

the maybe i could find just a piece of peace of mind

and carry on tomorrow

carry on tomorrow hopefully

🍃•••••••••••••••••••🍻

anywherebound

chapter 1 : escapism

tw : drinking, drug use, self harm, suicidal behavior

5/25/23

the feeling of euphoria rushed in their veins. the world seemed to spin around and around in them, the orange fading sky caving in on them and the wreckage they reside in.

trevor would lay his head on jamie’s chest, feeling his heart beat race. neither of them could figure out if it was the coke or the weed or the liquor that confused them, but the high lasted long enough for them to make it to the rooftop and mentally weep in each others arms. the early appearing of summer, no where near making the playoffs cause of their shitty performance the media loved to degrade could not come close to comparing the pain they felt when they realized as soon as they were sober they would fight again. it’s not like they were addicted, or anything. just extremely dependent to feel something through the stimulants like coke and depressants like weed and alcohol. maybe a little addicted, or a lot; but that never changed the fact they would always be drunk on each other no matter how long they’d be sober. it seemed like they were meant to be, but looking at it in a different light they were each others choice of drug.

jamie twirled trevor’s wild hair in his fingers, the ember from his joint seemed to compliment trevor’s locks perfectly. he took a long drag on the sativa, smoke filling his lungs and spilling out of his mouth then dissipating into nothingness.

“missed this with you. a lot” the dark haired boy rasped, coughing a bit from the inhalation of the herb.

“guess so. yeah.” trevor replied all dry. he sat up against jamie’s chest, grabbing the neck of an unknown liquor bottle with the label an intoxicated boy couldn’t interpret. he downed the 1/5 of the whiskey that was left, the bitter signature taste of jack instantly reminded him what he was sipping. sober, he could hardly shoot 4; but when he was bombed and couldn’t taste the gelato strain or the alcohol, so it made it east to drink whatever he pleased.

“whaddya mean, guess so? don’t you love me trev? or do you just fucking hate me like everyone else?” his exaggeration and tone gave trevor chills. the socal summer breeze dance in his hair, swaying the palm trees that towered over the rooftop.

“no it’s just like.. i wanna get out, y’know?”

trevor’s voice was growing unsteady. if jamie wasn’t buzzed, he wouldn’t of spoken like that. if jamie wasn’t buzzed he wouldn’t of jumped to conclusions. if jamie wasn’t buzzed he’d be the same kid trevor fell for when he was younger. he sure as hell missed when they were simple. now, they were contaminated with drugs and artificial dopamine releases. it wasn’t like trevor was abstinent either, he was never so emotional.

“we’re fine the way we are. don’t give me that bullshit, z.” jamie’s voice just sunk knives into trevor’s skin, and the lies he spoke so nonchalantly as if it was true were like salt on the wound. it’s all ‘fake it til you make it’ until it’s true; and he was so convincing he even made himself believe nothing was wrong with them. jamie furrowed his brows, taking another hit to numb the pain; cause he might as well kick it.

it took a lot for trevor not to stumble to his feet and jump off the roof right then and there. he was just so mentally drained, he didn’t know how to deal with himself anymore. he felt for the blade in his pocket, just to ground himself and make sure he was real.

“i know what you’re doing, trevor. don’t.” jamie lifted trevor closer to his body, restricting him and holding him against his body with so much pressure it was hard to breathe. this wasn’t affection, nothing near it. drunk love? yeah; maybe. but nothing about jamies actions showed it was genuine.

“jamie, i just wanna get better but i honestly don’t have the energy to, but i can’t leave anything behind.”

“drink. smoke. sniff coke. because were long gone from that. you’re a lost cause and so am i. hate to say it but-“ he trailed off, softening his muscles and letting trevor go a bit. if he loved him he wouldn’t have told him to do these things. jamie couldn’t even tell if it was the snow or the grass that made him sound like his jaw was broke, slurring the words he spoke.

“but that’s the problem, you don’t see it james-”

“i do see it trevor, i know you don’t want me the way i want you.”

the way his best friend cut him off hurt. it hurt really fucking bad to know that jamie didn’t care what he had to say, only if he could have him for his own to do whatever he pleased. drunk words are sober thoughts, as they say. trevor went silent. he had nothing to say to jamie. a wave of nausea washed over him. everything was unclear right now; and the mixing of the substances and jamie being stupid, stoned jamie just made him sick to his stomach.

“just kiss me one more time before you go.”

straight euphoria. jamie craned his neck down to trevor’s level, connecting their lips as he pushed his tongue against trevor’s teeth until he let him in, feeling out his mouth and tasting the liquor one last time.

but it wasn’t the last time. hopefully the last time they would do this high up in the clouds, but they both knew that wasn’t the case. one last time. that’s what they told each other. that’s not how it works though, cause they can’t just get up and go like that. sure, they loved each other; sure as hell tainted, but it was real and they might have not realized yet. some remnants of the coke trevor took dripped off the cartilage of trevor’s nose, the snowy powder falling to the indent of jamie’s upper lip.

“you keep me sane..” trevor cried against the jamie’s swollen lips, tears starting to streak down his cheeks.

“i hate you trev, but i love you so fucking much.” those words hurt. they were like nails against a chalkboard. what was he supposed to think? he always makes things harder for jamie, but to hear him say that he loves him just confused him more.

their frenzied kiss died off, there was no more coke dripping from trevor’s nose and his high was long gone and he was coming down. for jamie, he just let trevor silently sob in his arms, nothing happening besides his salty tears pooling onto his shirt.

•

trevor awoke to a pounding headache, jamie dead asleep with his hand on trevor’s bony back. he’d lost a significant amount of weight, from both his depression and lack of vigorous exercise they would normally have in the season. the off-season was hell, despite being off from work for a while. the transition spring receding and summer coming was pretty rough, especially seeing everyone else having a grand old time in the playoffs. the hangover was shit, and the thought of not finding answers at the bottom of the bottle made it even shittier. cause no matter how much they drank, they were still the same boys they were yesterday.

the rising sun isn't any good, cause all it meant behind the cheesy metaphors was just a sign he had to leave him again. it seemed like straight fire was embodied into a sunrise, as the morning afterglow of last night bled through. trevor stared at the way the dark ends of the sky and the clouds blended so effortlessly into the orange. something in the orange told trevor that they weren't done.

he swallowed back some acid-reflux, along with the lingering taste of jack daniel’s and whatever other events happened last night. trevor took a look around at his surroundings, all from the isolation for miles in their little rural town they used to get away; to the boy he was laying on. that wasn’t jamie. his jamie would have been smiling; just beaming at trevor like he’d been all good and peachy. but that wasn’t him. some of the surviving traces of the joints he smoked last night were littered around his space, and there were empty kentucky bourbon bottles and whatever else they could find scattered around the only just slanted edge of the rooftop; perched were gravity had taken them. that wasn’t anything close to his jamie. it tormented him to watch his bubbly childhood best friend turn into what he has.

how else would he cope other than bleeding just to feel? besides, it didn’t hurt anyone but himself. mutilating and carving apart his skin as if it was paper didn’t seem like much to trevor.

he climbed down from the roof into their window, stepping on some rolling paper and ziploc bags of herb on the window sill. trevor climbed into their room, almost collapsing as he got to the floor. he trudged over to their bed, as his knees buckled under him and his stomach seemed to do little flips while he rested his back on the side of the mattress.

trevor pulled out a blade wrapped in a note, if he ever were to need that note. he unraveled the wrinkly paper with some writing that rambled on about god knows what at this point, varying from why he did it what he did to every minute detail and inconvenience. he stuffed it in his pocket, clutching the razor between his thumb and the indent between 2 knuckles on his index finger. he gently ran his other fingers over the past. the past healing scars that changed elevation in his skin, the ones that didn’t hurt but he couldn’t forget the way they stung; and the past of what he’d been through. he pressed the steel to his forearm, dragging it across his skin as its jagged, used edges caught on the surface of his arms. he released some pressure as he got to the beginning of his veins, cause he wasn’t trying to die today. maybe he’ll save that for another night.

he let himself do this for a couple minutes straight. time seemed to tick into nothing, staring at the dark red, thick bodily fluids trickling down his arm. things were going back to normal. maybe not a good normal, though.

#Spotify #anywherebound #chapter 1 #trevorjamie #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #men’s hockey rpf

[anxother]

🚫Are there blogs you just won’t follow or characters you won’t interact with?

HAHAHA SAAAAALTY HOT TAKE MEME

Outside of the standard “I don’t know you and I have no idea of this fandom, this character, or how we’d even do anything, at all, ever”, which covers most of the ground...

- the printed paper face mask blog. Those blogs where you can tell there’s no thought to the muse or their original context: someone just wants to take on the most basic outside trappings and play a version of themselves.  Expect a lot of coffee shop style social interactions, attempts to gather a found family of other RPers, and no IC conflict, actual plot whatsoever allowed unless it’s a particular type of high-school to young twenty-somethings soap opera drama.  On the live and let live side, I’m sorry I’m just not into that idealised pseudo-social life shit.  On the more judgemental and salty side, in my experience it usually means someone who *cannot* seperate from the character and what happens IC, and that is deeply unhealthy and a huge red flag. 

- the teehee princess OC.  Also comes in brat prince style. Mun wants to be brat who can get away with everything, IC because they are SPESHUL, usually via unique powers and/or a relationship to a powerful canon character, and OOC because they are exploiting the unwritten rules of RP culture that say no one can do anything to them or call them out unless they expressly permit it. Not necesssarily a mary-sue but always far too close.  It’s everyone’s first teen, or at least teen-level, OC, it’s way too common, and on top of that my muses are too often targets as either father/lover/otherwise-wrapped-around-little-finger relationships for them, or as I-don’t-have-to-listen-to-you-DAD style interactions. I’m not here to indulge that and my muses are even less so.  And if you think I am talking about your OC: yes. Yes I am.

(#notallOCs. There have been some great OCs in the KH RPC. Plenty of them tick boxes above but were properly developed into characters. It’s about bad execution, not specific traits.) 

- combine the above for the worst of both worlds

- anything that writes my own muses in a way that I just can’t.  Now for much more of a me thing than an other RPers thing.  I know I’m on the extreme edge for my interpretation of just how uncompromisingly awful Ansem and especially Xemnas can be, or I certainly was pre-KH3.  I shouldn’t judge people on how they interpret characters and other muns are free to do what they want.  But there is something about repeatedly seeing either of them acting like relatively normal people with relatively normal social interactions and interpersonal concerns that makes my eye twitch.

#TW: EXTREME SALT CONTENT #monagxrie

[itsnothappening]

masterlist | maribat

requests are OPEN!

felinette

oneshots:

rewinder | +0.8k | adrien salt, class salt

summary: an akuma brings people from the future to the past.

jasonette

oneshots:

broken promises | +1k | adrien salt, alya salt

summary: adrien sees his lady kissing another in the school hall.

dead (or not) | +1.9k | fluff, angst

summary: marinette thought jason was dead.

that's that. | +0.6k | tooth-rotting fluff; [part 2 to ‘dead (or not)’]

summary: "on a scale of one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me?"

handsome strangers and unwise deals | +1.4k | fluff, humour, implied sexual content

summary: marinette gave the man sitting before her - jason todd, he said his name was, and then looked at her as if she was supposed to know who he was - an unimpressed look as she sipped on her sixth coffee of that day.

deceiving carbon copies | +1k | angst, fluff, slight humour [part 2 to ‘handsome strangers and unwise deals’]

summary: dick liked to think of himself as someone who could be as happy as possible after the death of quite possibly — not to be biased — his favourite brother. 

wanted | +1.4k | adrien salt mainly

summary: jasonette with wanted by hunter hayes.

series:

jasonette july 2021 | +11.9k | fluff, angst, humour

the title says it all

jasonette july 2022 | fluff, angst

the title says it all

marijon:

series:

marijon week 2021 | +4.4k | fluff, angst, humour, adrien salt, alya salt, lila salt

summary: the title says everything.

daminette

oneshots:

serendipity | +3.9k | lila salt, adrien salt, alya salt

summary: the last time damian al-ghul saw marinette was when they were twelve. he didn't think he would see her again. so, it's a huge surprise when he stumbles upon her in WE while exposing the liar of the class from France.

the confrontation | +0.8k | lila salt, mild class salt [part 2 to ‘serendipity’]

summary: what a lovely time to run into her enemy that probably wants her dead by now.

secrets and lies | +1.3k | fluff, humour, angst [part 3 to ‘serendipity’]

summary: marinette was sorely regretting her decision to meet the entirety of damian's family, especially when he told her how many people were going to be in attendance.

seventh heaven | +1.2k | fluff, humour, au

summary: "and," marinette mumbled. "i really want you to kiss me."

soulmate au | +1.8k | lila salt, adrien salt, alya salt

summary: tradition says that your soulmate will have another tattoo, something that relates to you. when they meet you, it is said that the tattoos start glowing a bright gold.

jealous damian | +0.7k | alya salt, adrien salt

summary: so can you make yandere damian or one were he is very possessive with marinette and his anger and jealousy hits 1000%?

kidnapped | +0.4k | yandere damian [tw]

summary: damian's habibti is kidnapped.

hogwarts au | +0.6k | a hint of salt, humour

summary: polyjuice potions

i think i could fall in love with you... | +1.1k | lila salt, humour

summary: he was a handsome man, she would give him that, but according to her father - the one of the most important lords of the kingdom - he was extremely stand-offish and cold. she didn’t know if she would get along with him.

just two kids in love | +0.9k | fluff

summary: song-fic of 'kid in love' by shawn mendes.

i'm so sorry! | +0.5k | fluff | genderbend

summary: marin accidentally drops coffee on his new classmate, dahlia.

jealousy jealousy | +0.3k | fluff, jealous damian

summary: damian gets jealous.

overprotective | +1k | fluff, overprotectiveness

summary: clark, jason and tim were more than a little overprotective over marinette. especially when she started dating damian.

arranged marriage au | +1.1k | talia being a lil female dog :)

summary: talia makes a deal with the order of the guardians - in exchange for their not-annhilation, their great guardian will be betrothed to damian.

the great guardian | +2k | angst, adrien salt, hints of fluff

summary: the assassin bows his head. “yes. the great guardian of the miraculous is currently in new york city.”

and we meet again | +0.8k | humour, romance [part 2 to ‘the great guardian’]

summary: "i'm looking for an alien. his name is thanos. or something like that."

colours of love | +3.5k | salt, fluff, angst

summary: damian glared at her fiercely and she shrunk back. “i can assure you, lila rossi is most definitely not my soulmate. perhaps you should check everything she has said on google. it does exist you know.”

hero | +1.8k | fluff, angst

summary: hero by faouzia.

series:

the story of love | +12.3k | lila salt, adrien salt, alya salt, class salt, adrien redemption, class redemption | complete

summary: the story of damian and marinette’s relationship.

timinette:

oneshots:

gunshot wounds and safehouses | +1.4k | fluff, humour, angst

summary: lovely wasn't it? sleeping in your best friend's dad's bed with said best friend, who you have feelings for.

an...interesting reunion | +1.5k | little angst, fluff, salt

summary: tim and marinette attend marinette's class reunion.

the recording | +1.5k | little angst, fluff, salt; [part 2 to ‘an...interesting reunion’]

summary: the recording (can be read as a stand-alone)

the gala | +1.6k | lila salt, adrien salt, alya salt, class salt [platonic]

summary: timothy drake-wayne was not happy. he had to lead the (according to dick at least, and he was inclined to believe him because he had never seen dick so unhappy) class of dimwits from france because it was his turn. He had put it off all week and now he had to do it as the CEO of WE.

brucinette:

oneshots:

injuries | 1.1k | angst, fluff

summary: a sharp blade was sticking out of bruce’s side and hot, sticky blood was gushing out of it.

lukanette:

series:

luka couffaine wayne | +7.9k | fluff, angst, humour | incomplete

summary: “you really should have sat down,” sighed anarka. “lad, your father is bruce wayne.”

no pairing

oneshots:

the exposé | +5.3k | lila salt, adrien salt, alya salt, class salt

summary: lila was having the time of her life at WE. the class was fawning over her, ready to do her bidding whenever she wanted, however she wanted. she could spout out a ridiculous lie and they'd believe it; they were completely and irreversibly under her spell. but then, of course, things had to go wrong.

pathetic little liars that are squished like ants | lila salt, humour [part 2 to ‘the exposé’]

summary: damian was seething.

hospitals | +0.7k | fluff, crack, humour

summary: marinette wakes up in a hospital, paralyzed.

what a liar! | +1k | lila salt, class sugar, fix-it fic

summary: lila rossi mentally prepared her plethora of lies as she entered her new class. the only thing was, she wasn’t aware they possessed brain cells.

other pairings

oneshots:

cloud nine | chloe and jon | +0.7k | fluff, angst [part 2 to ‘seventh heaven’]

summary: "i said i love you," chloe mumbled now, her secret out in the open. "and i hate that i love you because i know you'll never feel the same."

absolutely & irrevocably | luka and jason | +1.1k | fluff

summary: luka gets over his feelings for marinette, only to fall head over heels again, this time, with his best friend, jason todd.

adopted | maridamijon | +3.1k | fluff, angst

summary: “i mean,” marinette says frustratedly, ready to tear her hair out - you will never believe the number of rants she has told chloe and kagami and the nights she has spent obsessing over it, “i’m in love with both of you!”

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #maridami #daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #hero #faouzia #song fic #angst #fluff #bruce wayne #wayne family #adrien salt #class salt #alya salt #lila salt #soulmate au #chloe bourgeois #alix kubdel #dick grayson #adrien agreste #lila rossi #caline bustier #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #lila bashing

[zevlors-tail]

Good Enough (Villain Deku)

A/N: This was meant to go with this scenario as an extra add on, but I wasn’t able to finish it in time and so here it is by itself! This was extremely personal and self indulgent, so apologies if it’s not really relatable. I pulled straight from personal experience for this one. I really just wanted to vent have something I could come back to for myself, but maybe this will also help others. I’m still trying to get the hang of the comfort part of comfort fics. 

Also, I’ll be posting some original content soon and normal requests as well. I do really like writing emergency requests, but they also take a lot out of me.

TW: Self harm, mentions of a lighter, burns/burn wounds, treating burn wounds, negative thoughts. PLEASE MIND WARNINGS!

Villain!Deku

In this au, Vil!Deku and the reader are part of the LOV. 

Never enough.

Nothing you ever did was good enough. No matter what you did, said, or how you acted, you could always do better. Your family had instilled that thought into you, and your teachers and peers had only continued to nurture it until a small sprout became a blossom, that blossom eventually blooming and taking root in your mind. No matter the grades you brought home, you could have- no, should have -done better. No matter what you said, there was always something wrong with the tone in which you said it. Don’t talk back to me, you were told. Watch your tone! If you passed your test with anything less than a B? You’re smarter than that, you just need to apply yourself better. Are you paying attention in class? There always had to be something, always had to be an if, and, or but at the end of every backhanded compliment you got- if you even received any. More, they demanded. You need to work harder. You could have done better. It’s your fault that things happened this way, why are you like this!?

Why were you like this? You didn’t know. All you knew was that everything you touched seemed to crumble right in front of you. You never failed to ruin things, to hinder someone in the process of trying to enjoy your existence. Maybe you just weren’t cut out to feel and have good things. Maybe you didn’t deserve them. After all, where were all your “friends” and family now? The only ones left who tolerated your existence at this point were the villains you chose to align yourself with instead. And even then you were an outcast amongst outcasts, the weakest link between them all. The notion that you would never be good enough had been drilled into your brain so many times that you believed it now. Truly, really, wholly believed it with every fiber of your being. And so, when you’d fucked up during this morning’s mission, it came as no surprise to you.

It was supposed to be a small meeting between allies to exchange goods. You knew beforehand that the other group planned to start a scuffle, and so all three of you- you, Deku, and Dabi -had come prepared for that. But hidden weapons and strategies aside, you still managed to get yourself injured in the process. That wouldn’t have been so awful had it not caused any other problems, but of course that wasn’t the case- whenever you were involved, something always seemed to go wrong. In this instance, it just so happened that Dabi had to step in to cover for you during the fight while Deku helped you get away, and consequently you’d barely had time to grab any of the supplies you were after. 

Shigaraki was less than happy about the outcome. He didn’t tear into you, but you got a good scolding while getting patched up, and it hit you hard. You should have been used to it. You’d been told for so long that things were always your fault for not doing enough, so why weren’t you immune to the terrible feelings that came along with that fact? The words stung like salt in an open wound every time you heard them; they never failed to make you hate yourself. And of course since you were injured, you were put on bed rest for a while which only served to make matters worse for you. Why should you get to rest when Deku and Dabi did all the work for you and had to continue with their normal tasks? You were the one who fucked up- you deserved punishment, not a reward. 

And so...here you were.

You lied awake in bed, your head tilted back on the pillow while you stared at the ceiling fan spinning idly above you. It had to be some time past one in the morning, the normal sounds of daytime long gone and a tiny sliver of the moon visible through the window to your right. On the nightstand to your left, a little rectangular black object taunted you. The damage had already been done, punishment dealt by your own hand and yet- it wasn’t enough. Was it ever, really?

The sound of knuckles rapping against your door frame interrupted your train of thought, a familiar messy mop of green hair coming into focus as you stared at the person in the entryway to your room. 

“Deku...?”

Deku entered and shut the door behind him with a soft click before making his way over to you and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. He took a quick look around your room for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you propped yourself up to get a better look at him while he spoke.

“How’s your leg?”

“Still broken,” you teased with a halfhearted smirk. But it fell soon after, the reminder of what happened earlier in the day bringing back bitter feelings and memories. Deku scrutinized your face, eyes seemingly searching for something, though you couldn’t tell what.

“And how are you holding up after what Shigaraki said to you this morning?” His words were careful, voice calm as he asked. You took a long pause before answering.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough, is it?” A heavy feeling settled in your chest, your voice cracking in frustration as you reached up to angrily run a hand over your face. “I’m always causing problems for others and fucking everything up. There must be something wrong with me.”

All that self hate inside of you burned, doubts and insecurities stoking the raging fire within. For so long you kept in everything you were feeling, and now it was all spilling over in front of the one person you were supposed to keep it together for. Why couldn’t you just do something good for once? Why did you always have to taint everything? You didn’t want Deku to see you cry. You didn’t want him to feel any pity. You were supposed to be strong, and brave, and everything you knew at the back of your mind you weren’t. 

“I disagree. You’re being much too hard on yourself, doll.” Deku scooted back some and climbed his way up the bed to you, his back coming to rest against the headboard while you moved over to give him some more room. He gently patted his lap, and you leaned over to rest your head in it.

“But I’m not. I don’t deserve this; I don’t deserve to lay here and rest while the two of you have to pick up all of my slack because of something that was my fault. I’m such a fuck up.” 

Deku let you ramble on while his hand rested lightly on your neck, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. When you were finished, he gave you a hum of acknowledgement and nodded a few times, his legs shifting a bit under you as he sat up straighter. 

“Now, doll, that’s simply just not true. All of those things you said were lies.”

“But they’re not-” you started, frustration evident in your voice.

Deku didn’t give you a chance to finish. “Yes, they are,” he said firmly, leaving no room for you to argue. “Are you really insisting that you’re supposed to be up and doing work on a broken leg? It seems I wasn’t clear enough the first time, so let me remind you again. You’re being much too hard on yourself. What happened this morning was purely chance. Sure, we had the upper hand, but that doesn’t always mean we’ll come out on top, and it wasn’t your fault things turned out the way they did. I was supposed to be in charge of strategies, are you saying I should have strategized better to avoid the outcome? Or that Dabi’s flames should have burned hotter so they could do more damage?”

“No,” you answered right away. You didn’t need to think twice about it; it wasn’t their fault, it was yours. “Those are things you can’t control. You only had so much information to work with and Dabi can’t change the temperature of his flames that much, at least that I know of.”

“So then why on earth would you ever think the same about yourself? The same principle applies to you as it does to us.”

You didn’t miss a beat as you replied, “Because I could do better. I need to do better. I need to be better. But I feel like there’s something missing... Maybe if I had all the missing pieces then I wouldn’t screw everything up! But I don’t, and I just keep ruining things!”

You curled in on yourself, your hands moving around animatedly as you spoke. For a moment, you forgot there was a reason you’d kept your wrists turned in for the majority of this conversation, and as your sleeve slipped down a little when you raised your arm, your self inflicted burns were momentarily exposed. Your heart stopped as Deku’s hand shot out to catch your wrist, and before you could pull away, he was inspecting the burn marks carefully.

“Did you get burnt in the fight as well? I thought Dabi was the only one there with a fire-related quirk...” You were in too much of a panic to answer him, but it turned out you didn’t need to; he seemed to be talking to himself. “No, these are much too new to have happened in the morning. This is recent, maybe an hour ago... How did this happen, doll?” 

“Cooking accident,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Really?” He sounded skeptical of your excuse, and for a good reason; there was no way you’d been up today to cook anything for yourself with your broken leg. He stopped to think for a moment before his eyes darted to your nightstand, your lighter still laying on top of the hard surface. You watched as the gears turned in his mind, and you knew the moment everything clicked- he made a quiet noise of understanding, and a sigh followed shortly after. “This isn’t just about the mission and what Shigaraki said, is it?” He let go of your wrist, and you turned to bury your face in his lap.

“I don’t deserve to be on bed rest right now. I deserve to be punished.”

A moment of silence passed between you while he waited to make sure you were done before he responded.

“That’s not true,” he warned.

“It is! I fucked up!” You had never sounded so desperate in your entire life. You were convinced that you had done something wrong, and your voice reflected that fact. Why couldn’t he see it too?

Deku tried to argue with you, his patience thinning with every cruel word that fell from your mouth. You could hear it in the way he spoke. “You did your best, love. That’s all that matters.”

“But it doesn’t matter; it wasn’t good enough! I’m not good enough!”

You sobbed into his lap, the crushing weight in your chest getting the better of you as you let go and broke in front of him. You were embarrassed, ashamed, and angry with yourself for experiencing something so raw in front of him, but there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it at this point either. Above you, Deku shifted slightly to get more comfortable before pulling you up into his chest and gently cradling you in his arms while you cried.

“Y/N, doll... You’re perfect to me; I love every single thing about you. You are enough- just existing is enough. And you deserve to exist and feel okay without having to punish yourself for it. You can have good things and you don’t need to suffer for them. You’ve always been enough, and you always will be. But this-” He gently turned your wrist over and lightly traced a finger around the edge of a burn. “This has to stop. It doesn’t do anyone any good, and you’re only destroying yourself little by little. It’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

“I know,” you agreed quietly. “But I’m not sure I can stop-” It scared you to admit that out loud; saying it turned the thought into something real, something you had to really deal with now that you couldn’t just push the idea to the back of your mind and ignore it.

“We’ll find you an alternative. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You nodded silently while Deku continued to look at the burns. Suddenly he seemed lost in thought, eyes glossing over for half a second before he was moving to get up. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Not that you could go anywhere anyway. He gave you a lingering kiss on the top of your head and then disappeared from the room, grabbing the lighter on your nightstand and pocketing it on the way out while leaving the door cracked open. You were confused until he returned with ointment and bandages and a determined look on his face. “Alright,” he started, sitting on the edge of your bed once more, “give me your arms.”

He worked silently at first, his brows furrowed in concentration while his skilled fingers carefully and delicately rubbed ointment into the wounds. It burned and left an unpleasant sensation afterwards, but it felt like nothing compared to the sting of the wounds themselves and the reasons you’d given them to yourself in the first place. You let him take his precious time, and when he was down to the last couple of spots, you caught his concerned gaze accidentally.

“You have to let me in, Y/N.” He moved on to bandages next and gently wrapped up your wrists, his hands warm against your rapidly cooling skin from the medicine. “This won’t be easy by any means, but if you let me be there for you, I’ll show you every single day that you’re good enough. You’ve been told so many times that you’re not; believe me just this once when I tell you that you are. What happened on that mission was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done that would have made the situation any better. And I’ve worked with you before; I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You’re always giving your best at everything you do, but sometimes doing our best means different things on different days. It’s not possible to be perfect all the time.”

He finished up shortly after that, and you thought long and hard on his words while he boxed the supplies back up and set it off to the side. Maybe he was right. You were tired of feeling like you had to be perfect all of the time, like you had to live up to unrealistic standards. But this had been going on for so long that you weren’t sure what to do anymore or how to fix it.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore...”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Deku. He pulled you into his arms before laying down with you in the bed with your head tucked under his chin.

“You don’t have to, doll. You’re safe here, even from yourself. Everything will be okay. I won’t let you tear yourself apart like this any longer.”

For the first time in a long time, you did feel safe. Maybe Deku was right; you deserved to enjoy life and feel good without consequences. Maybe...you were good enough as is, right here in the arms of someone who loved you for you. And maybe, just maybe...things were going to be okay.

#villain deku x reader #villain!deku x reader #deku x reader #villain deku #villain!deku #tw sh #tw: sh #tw self harm #tw: self harm #bnha x reader #mha x reader #deku

[yurileclercseyeliner]

A Dumb Rant About A Webtoon

Okay so I’m actually super into reading webcomics (I read them on both Webtoon and Tapas), and although this has nothing to do with my blog (I AM considering making a side blog for webcomic content/reviews tho) I sort of feel like ranting about one that I saw. I’m sorry, but if you like Athena Complex this is probably going to piss you off. Admittedly, I couldn’t get far into the comic without being upset about this so I stopped reading a few chapters in, so that may affect my opinion here. This is mainly my opinion though, and if you disagree with me it’s fine.

So I did mention in my Fire Emblem kelpie beast unit post my opinion on mythological adaptation. Essentially, I believe that when you adapt any sort of mythological being into your story you need to keep these two things in mind:

The recognizable features/symbols/abilities: by this I mean what physical features is this being known to have, what are their physical/magical abilities, what objects are they most associated with, etc. You don’t need to have every single thing that is mentioned in the source material, just a decent combination of them that can allow the reader to easily connect the adaptation to the source material.

This factor mainly applies to individual characters as opposed to a full species or classification of creatures (I have read a decent number of mythological adaptations and have seen a mythical species depicted as evil in one adaptation and benevolent or neutral in another and enjoyed both, it all depends on if it makes sense in the context). What are the character’s main personal views, goals, and motivations? By this I mean how do they think and what are their views on the world around them, and what is the context surrounding that? Essentially, what can their main personalities and motivations be boiled down to and why?

After those two factors, I think that you can then go buck wild with any other characterization as long as it isn’t contradictory and makes sense in your story.

Now that I have set that down here’s my deal with Athena Complex. Athena Complex is a Webtoon based on Greek mythology that follows Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and strategy. She falls in love with Poseidon, the god of the sea, and is rejected by him. Fueled by vengeance and a desire to win his heart she takes the form of a high school boy in order to take revenge on his reincarnation. Basically, this entire Webtoon is practically a public execution of a large part of what makes Athena, well, Athena.

First off, I will give credit to Athena Complex for at least getting the symbolism correct, Athena is a goddess of wisdom and war and when in the form of a goddess her design reflects that with her armor, among other things such as her association with owls, so the first aspect that I mentioned is fine.

Additionally there is the fact that they also did heavily tap into the prideful aspect of Athena’s nature. Essentially in the source material Athena is a VERY prideful goddess and will take any opportunity to prove her worth if someone attempt to upstage her, and gets very angry when she fails or is insulted in the process (ie the story of Arachne, the story behind the double flute). This aspect could also be seen slightly in Athena Complex’s Athena’s behavior, which I can also give them credit for.

But that’s where a lot of the similarities end. Tbh a large majority of these issues surround the second aspect, the basics of the figure’s personality and motivations.

First, Athena’s stance on romance. Original Athena...literally wanted nothing to do with any sort of romantic relationship. Seriously it’s one of her main things one of her epithets is literally “Parenthos”, which means virgin. No lovers, no sex, no marriage, no intentionally created children (I say intentionally bc she and Hepheastus accidentally created a child when his snot got onto a torn piece of her cloak, but that’s a different weird story), nothing. She solely focused on the expansion of knowledge and learning. She had no time for any sort of relationship. Making Athena in Athena Complex heavily motivated by an unrequited romantic attraction literally rips one of her main core values to shreds.

And this in my opinion one of the worst offenses, MAKING THE SUBJECT OF THAT ROMANTIC ATTRACTION POSEIDON. Literally one MAJOR thing for the original Athena and Poseidon is that they HATE each other. (Also Athena is literally Poseidon’s niece, but tbh that’s a less heinous crime bc Greek mythology was weird about that shit, multiple gods married their siblings/cousins/uncles/aunts/nieces/nephews/etc., it’s weird. Also in Athena Complex Poseidon acted the main person raising Athena, which is ALSO really fucking weird and concerning, anyway back to why they hate each other).

The Contest for Athens: Basically before the Greek city of Athens was called Athens the people were looking for a patron deity, and both Athena and Poseidon tried to lay their claim. In order to determine who the city would go to, they decided to have a contest of who could give the city the best gift. Poseidon gave the city some horses (for transportation and farmwork) and a small spring in the middle of the city (note: the water in the spring was salt water and therefore undrinkable). Athena gave them olive trees (for food, making oil, wood, etc.). The peoplr decided that Athena’s gift was better and thus named the city “Athens” after her, leaving Poseidon incredibly salty.

The Medusa Incident (TW: possible rape/non-con): So Poseidon was having a nice little affair with a mortal woman named Medusa (you notice how this name is familiar, right? that’s important). It’s a little iffy on whether or not this affair was fully consensual on Medusa’s end due to the sort of victim blame-y aspects to this story, hence the trigger warning. So Poseidon his having his fun and decides to find a nice little place they can go to do the nasty. Where does he think would be a great idea? One of Athena’s temples of course! You know, a literal place of worship dedicated to his rival who is known to dislike involvement in romantic/sexual relationships? Nothing could go wrong at all! They of course get caught, and Athena, being pissed, decides to curse Medusa with snakes for hair and the ability to turn people into stone just by looking at them (see why the name was familiar?) For good measure she also curses Medusa’s two sisters with the snake hair. The sisters are then dubbed the Gorgons and then go live in isolation on a island until they are killed by Perseus (a hero that Athena was helping).

So this Webtoon completely ignores the context behind this hatred and decides to make it into an enemies to lovers story based on unrequited feelings (the feelings of a person for their childhood caretaker too...still weird). I guess they wanted to do enemies to lovers and such based on a rivalry dynamic, but in doing so they erased most of the actual substance behind that rivalry by making it romantic and destroying the characterization of one of the main characters.

I can understand taking creative liberties, but before you do so you NEED to have a full understanding of the characters that you are adapting. If a mythological character is known for a certain practice (refraining from romance) or for having an extreme distaste for another figure (Athena hating Poseidon), INCLUDE IT. You NEED to have all of the bare bones basics before you start taking liberties.

For example, the original Athena:

Goddess of wisdom and strategy

Association with owls, olives, carries a shield known as Aegis

Highly values learning and knowledge

Prideful to a fault

Virgin goddess with no interest in romantic or sexual relationships

Extreme hatred for Poseidon as a result of repeated negative encounters

Those are the bare bones basics, after that you can do what you want.

Honestly I don’t think that this Webtoon is necessarily BAD, but it is VERY annoying when you have the context behind these characters (hence my frustration and inability to make it past 10 chapters). In my opinion, if the author wanted to write this storyline, they should have made their own OCs as opposed to butchering a pre-existing figure’s characterization.

(Also I’m so sorry I know that this isn’t relevant to my argument BUT THE POSEIDON REINCARNATION LOOKS SO BORING HE LOOKS LIKE A BACKGROUND CHARACTER WHERE IS THE FLAVOR????)

#athena complex #athena complex webtoon #webtoon #rant #again this is just my opinion #i don’t expect anyone to fully agree with me #tw mention of rape/noncon

[cylas]

tw & cw: cursing, sexual themes and dark content, minor self harm and mass genocide joke

Quick rant.

I'm quite saddened by the prospect of this fandom (jjk) being extremely hypersexual and showing almost little to no restraint to the point where sometimes, shit I don't want to see is leaked into my dash regardless of if I blacklist it or not and a chunk of fanfics are riddled with untagged smut and dark content, therefore making the fandom experience a little less enjoyable.

Now I'm an adult. I block, blacklist, and filter my shit so I can have a good time and people who eat that stuff up can have a good time without having to hear my bitch ass bitching. I do dislike the fact that some of my favorite characters' tags are clogged with a bunch of shit that makes me want to douse myself in gasoline and light myself ablaze, but I know when to stay in my lane. What I absolutely hate, is when people don't take the necessary precautions to ensure that those outside of their targeted audience don't make contact with their nsfw content.

I know Tumblr's tagging system is absolute dogshit, so please put your stuff under "keep reading" as a precaution so I don't have to scroll past your long smutty fic. Not to mention, the hentai panels as headers just aren't it, man. There's a workaround if you're on mobile because believe me, I do it, so there is absolutely no excuse that you can't do it either. If you need help, I could sit down and write tutorial just so I can easily scroll past your shit.

My AO3 people, tag your shit. And I mean TAG IT. Fucking tag it.

I will happily put on my filters, click on a fic, and a few paragraphs in, fem student Y/N is getting fingerbusted in her poopchute by Satoru Henry Gojo on a desk during school hours. I do not want to fucking read this shit with my 400 blind ass eyes as I physically restrain myself from committing mass genocide out of pure unadulterated rage while simmering in my bloody concoction of sulfur and salt. THE AUDACITY! SOME OF YOU! FUCKING! HAVE!!!!1!111111

Okay, but really. I'm gonna give some of you the benefit of the doubt because honestly, stuff can be difficult, but please do your due diligence if you haven't already started. It's all I ask.

Nonetheless, my respect goes to those that make sure their stuff is properly tagged and kept away from entities like me for the most part. You know who you are and you're doing great.

—Sincerely the world's most wholesome biblical angel

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #small rant #cy sighs

[sstrawberryhospital]

hi hellouu, i'm val!! i'm 20 and am here in the silly tumblr to mostly repost things that please my eyes and enjoy fanfiction and -art! just a pink creature

info about this blogs contents: 🌸ʚ tw ɞ🌸

- obsessive themes 🔪

- blood, bruising (occasionally guro, no extreme gore!)

- derealization/oddcore

- overly cute things 🎀

tldr; for the unhinged girlies that enjoy cute aesthetics and being a little deranged on the internet >w<

( my blog is 16+ ish! minors should scroll with caution!!)

please feel free to block me if you're uncomfortable with the things i repost, i want everyone to stay safe. no hard feelings. ♡

i'm not responsible for your media consumption!! ❤️‍🩹

if u wish to know more about me: 

( !! please note that i dont support codependence, abuse etc. i use this blog for coping & fun. thank you. 💗 )

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter IX

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for your patience and support! I love you all! This chapter is very long. In fact, this and the previous one would be one, but it already had more than 5000 words and I had not finished yet, so it seemed exesive to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VII)(Chapter VIII) (Chapter X coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 5 498

TW: None! Pure Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were both impatient and excited for that night. It gave (Y/n) a warm nostalgia to share something so close to their heart with someone they loved. It gave Kurapika the feeling of not only being appreciated but of belonging. He perfectly understood how important traditions were to people in their position. It was something that, in a way, connected them with who they once were and with those who once loved them. At the same time, it could bring grief and yearning for it.  That (Y/n) invited him to be part of one of their traditions meant two things, which were essential to Kurapika: the first, they were contented enough to carry out the celebration; the second, those sorts of events are held with family, and (Y/n) considered him sufficient bosom to show him their traditions.

The hours until check-out seemed tediously long for both. But everything comes sooner or later.

The two kept close to each other as they prepared to leave. 

Melody saw them from afar. She hadn't seen Kurapika so happy and delighted regarding something. It was so pleasant to see her friend gleeful after so much.

They were the last to leave the Nostrade Mansion, checking that none of their co-workers were present to go through the door holding hands. They did not let go during all the traject to (Y/n)'s automobile.

"I propose that we go to your house so you can prepare changes of clothes if you'd wish."-they orated, a clear eagerness on their voice. A tone that wouldn't leave their voice through all that night.

"That would be very convenient, thank you"-He too was happy but better at hiding it behind his calm tone.

They drove Kurapika to his residence, chit-chatting during the entirety of the route. Kurapika had promised him that he would not be long-drawn and they could wait for him outside to speed things up. However, once alone at home, a wave of insecurity hit him. Something not proper in him. He began to question himself. It was something important to both of them, and he didn't want, for whatever reason, to ruin it. He was afraid of saying something perhaps inappropriate, hurting his feelings, or insulting his culture by accident. There was a whole list of things that could go through carelessness and were annoying. If someone did such actions referring to some tradition of the Kurta, he would sure be mad. Above, (Y/ n) had not been very specific with the type of event it was. He did not know if he would have to dress formally, or in his traditional clothes. He began to get distracted and discredit the decisions he made. Finally, he changed into his Kurta clothing, packed in a sack another change of his traditional clothing, his white loose pajamas, and one of his black suits.

When he returned to the car with his belongings, (Y / n) was distracted on their phone. For someone who liked playing on his cell phone so much, he responded very little to messages and calls. When he put his bag in the back of the car he noticed some grocery sacks. Which he was sure weren't there before.

"Did you went to the supermarket while I was inside?"-Kurapika inquired. They looked away quickly solely to return their sight to him.

"Yes... I did."- They thought it was a bit explicit.

Kurapika felt bad about the time he must have taken-"Did I really took so long?"

(Y/n) shook their head-"No, no, no, I mean, it was a bit lengthy, but I took the opportunity to go buy what was required!"-they reassured with a smile.

"I'm sorry for being overdue."-he apologized with a sigh, holding his forehead.

"No no! Don't apologize! It's fine! We only gained time. Plus you avoided the dull line at the store."- they also started to shake their hands. Truly seeking to comfort him, they even found it handy.-"Please don't worry, it's perfectly fine."

Kurapika sat in the passenger seat, put the seatbelt on, and headed to (Y/n)'s residence.

"I hope you don't have any allergies to almonds, since I purchased to make an almond dessert."-their expression suddenly changed to a deadpan one. Realizing they didn't even ask beforehand that important detail.

"No no, I don't."-he notified. Curious about the variety of sweet it would be.-"Will you make desserts repeatedly?"-His sweetheart maybe literally was a sweet heart.

"Yes!"-they cheered-"Are you good at cooking by any luck?"-another question, but this one with a blameworthy tone and a somewhat ashamed smile.

"I master the basics, why that question?"- were they planning on cooking together?

"Because I am terrible when it comes to cooking. It's no coincidence that I only have cookies or candy in my cupboard."-They admitted with rectitude. That person sometimes had brutal honesty about some things. Kurapika was very sure that they were capable of feeling shame and shame, even seldom they seemed not to be ashamed of some things that most people would be ashamed of.-"So more or less I depend on your abilities for this to be successful."

When they arrived at the house, a comforting smell filled Kurapika's lungs. It was so pleasant and familiar by now. He felt at home and relaxed. (Y/n) put the shopping bags in her kitchen and started pulling out a wide variety of pastry supplies. If it weren't for their earlier confession, Kurapika would think they know what they're doing. In fact, he doubted if they even had any clues.

"What are we doing, then?"- he questioned, wanting to make sure they at least had a plan.

"We are making Frangipane! It is a sweet almond-flavored custard patisserie!"-when they mention dessert, they immediately smiled-"it is exquisite! I like it a lot, although I have not eaten for a long time. I hope you will enjoy it too!"- they flapped their hands with emotion as they explained. At first, it was somewhat difficult for Kurapika to decipher what they were feeling, however, there were moments where their happiness and emotion were clear. That was adorable to him.

"It sounds heavenly! How do we make it?" his excitement seemed to have infected him as well. But she couldn't help it! If his lover was so smiling, he was as well.

"I don't know!"-they said it was still content.

Trouble hit Kurapika. Even if he could tell what they were feeling, their mind was still a mystery.

"How do you plan to prepare it in that case?"-he pleased, worrying all the event will fail. He didn't want to see their excitement and joy crushed.

"My mami- mami is how I referred to my grandma- taught me how to make it. Though I forgot."-they calmed and tilted their head."-Except, that's no problem at all. Do you mind waiting for just a miniature moment, please?" they added directing to their bedroom. They allegedly had some solution to the problem. But Kurapika still wondered how they could be so forgetful and brilliant at the same time. 

(Y/n) returned shortly afterward with a little book in hand. The book seemed to be handmade, the cover was made of fabric with a flower pattern, except there was no title on it.

"My mami made a cookbook for me!"- they sang as they showed him the book. Kurapika took it and started leafing through it. Why didn't they mention that part earlier?-"Recipes are nothing further than a sequence of instructions. And in general, I exceed in following commands. So everything should be under control."

Kurapika might know a lot about many things, but the language the book was in was not one of them.-"Darling, I cannot comprehend what is written." 

"I know. The exact reason why I will be translating it."- they explained like the most coherent thing ever. He returned the cookbook. They started reading it, looking for the recipe they needed.

Both traveled to the kitchen and (Y/n) started to read out loud the recipe.

"Let's start with the dough! This is the longest of the processes, and you would want to start with it. It's an inverted puff pastry. For it, a base dough is needed. Which you are going to envelop in butter multiple times..."-the safety of their voice dispersed as they read.-"How does she expect me to do that..."-they mumbled for themselves, although Kurapika was able to hear it. It was just the beginning, and they were already distressed.

"But don't stress (Y/n) even if it appears complicated said like that, it's easier than you might think. You just have to follow the steps I'll be giving you."-they seemed surprised at that encouragement.

"Did... did your grandma wrote that?"-even he was surprised.

"Yes... I... I guess she knew me extremely well."- it even seemed their mami was in the room, knowing exactly how they were feeling.

"For the base dough, you need to mix 15cl of water with 18 grams of salt and one teaspoon of white vinegar." (Y/n) started to measure said ingredients while integrating them into an ample aluminum bowl and stirred. "With the wet ingredients already prepared, append 350 grams of white flour and 115 grams of melted butter and mix until homogeneity... I can do that."

They melted the butter in the microwave and added the flour, followed by a quick stir.

"Spread the dough on a surface with flour and form a tiny square."-they weren't bad at following instructions. Kurapika stayed next to them, admiring their focused face while passing ingredients and supplies. He was somewhat nervous they were going to miss the recipe by accident and feel bad, but they were having so much fun he ignored it.

"Behold! Our base dough is finished! It was simple!"-(Y/n) looked so proud of their achievement.

"It is a well-done dough!"-It was the first time that both of them prepared something similar, he couldn't help but feel equally satisfied.

The dough was placed into the refrigerator. The succeeding step was to mix 150grams of flour and 375 grams of butter until obtaining a paste. The two of them were having fun with the preparation of the dessert. Serenely conversing added joy at the night.

"Earlier this day, you mentioned today was important. Is there a celebration?"-the blonde wondered, aspiring to know more about his beloved's traditions.

Their smile softened-"It is. Today Vere Solstitium starts. It was a big celebration for the Uniliums taking place during spring. It lasted 12 days."-they informed while spreading the butter mixture into a bigger square and placing the dough inside, enclosing it.

"What was intended to be celebrated?"-he continued, as he saw the dough being spread and folded two times in half.

"Being alive and together. We were a small clan. The fact that they were all good and united made us fortunate."-they explained with a soft voice and a kind smile as they placed the dough in the fridge again to let it rest. There was a sad undertone, the object of the celebration sure was warming and pretty, but given the fact (Y/n) was the last alive, it turned to be dark. Both sat on the couch to wait.

"I see. Is there a reason why it was feasted in spring?"-Kurapika continued to ask, even if once reflected the circumstances were sad, it seemed to be a topic close to their heart.

"Because that's when all the flowers are in bloom."- (Y/n) unexpectedly rested their head on Kurapika's shoulder. Not that it was unpleasant, totally the opposite. He loved their contact and affection, it was just that (Y/n) was peculiar with physical contact. Not because they didn't love him with all their heart, they just needed to get used.

"My people had a close relationship with nature in general, but especially with flowers. Each flower has a meaning for us. And each of us had an assigned flower. That flower symbolizes your soul. Your entire aura lived in your flower and was part of it."-their voice was sweet and nostalgic. It did it good to share aspects so dear to them with someone they cherished. Similarly, Kurapika was glad to be capable of grasping that kind of information. When you lose your home, sharing your memories is complicated and beautiful at the same time. It felt less lonely.

"Do you have a flower?"- he guessed. Having the opportunity to hear about the culture of (Y/n) made him feel comforted. And if he didn't listen to them, who else would?

They looked up at him with a smile and nodded-"I do! I'm the poppy!"-they exclaimed-"It has a mixed meaning, a small wildflower often perceived as childish and frail. It's often related to dreams, daydreams. Besides is a flower formerly used as an analgesic and sedative. The poppy is a flower of comfort and hope, particularly comfort in times of penury."-they cocked their heads to the right a little-"Although it has not helped me much."- chuckling a little to hide their sadness.-"The other one, I don't fancy it that much, although I terminated up growing used to it. It also contains a meaning of aggressiveness and fury. There's why it's a flower surrounded by mysteries."

Possibly they do not see it, or they still grieving, but they had brought Kurapika hope and lessened his pain in the lowest moments. He adored their mystery. Having someone by his side loving and supporting him was like a dream. While they could be childish at times, it was invigorating to him.

How long has he not laughed? 

How long has it been since he felt blissful?

 How long has it been since he felt emotion ticking his senses? 

How long has he not felt any hope for the future?

One of the mysteries of (Y/n) was how they remained innocent and well-meaning after extremely much. Kurapika had no idea how they were so impassive, but he was so glad that they did. To him, the poppy suited them pretty great.

"I think it is a tad funny how the poppy is related to medicine and I ended up in this career!"-they joked. Maybe the flowers were connected to their soul after all.-"We better keep working on the cake."

Not even themselves knew the time that had elapsed since they started talking. Kurapika was amused by how (Y/n) could at times be quiet for hours, and listen with all the attention that each fiber of their body allowed them to give; in others be so talkative. In any case, he loved talking with them and listening to them.

"Now the fun part! The filling!"-they grinned, really radiant, even if it was a simple cake. And it was a simple cake. Only it went further.

"Isn't it a little early to make the filling?"-he asked, starting to worry about the resolution of their experiment once more. He had taken, perchance, the part of "I rely on you to succeed" far too literally. They shook their head and whimpered in disagreement.

"It may seem that it is, however it is more useful to have it ready to spare time. And if you let it rest it will taste greater."- they explained, the idea was not foolish so discussing it would lead to nothing.

"Let's boil milk! We need 150 milliliters and a hint of vanilla!"-they pronounced vanilla a bit weird, yet Kurapika did too. It was perhaps a shared trait in nonnative speakers.-"I absolutely savor milk! I believe it to be the superior beverage."-they stated pouring the milk into a saucepan, it looked never used. 

"Because you're a cat?"-A hint of a tease as well as a bit of genuine interest in the question.

"Probably! When I was little, I used to give choccy milk to my cat each time I had."-another weird frank response-"Next, whisk two egg yolks with 25 grams of sugar."

"You had a cat? As a pet? Considering that you are a cat, it would not be bizarre to have one as a pet?"-He had no idea that (Y/n) had former pets, even fewer cats. A bit uncanny to own a miniature version of yourself as a pet.

"Mmm..."-they shook their heads from side to side in uncertainty-"Not really. Humans make friends with other humans. An accompaniment animal is just a friend or an adoptive member of your family. The difference is that since it is another species, humans treat it as inferior."- they exposed their point of view, as they quickly whisked.

"I think you are right."-he mumbled, feeling a bit ridiculous. After all, wasn't that the reason why they had been exterminated? The person in front of him was not even human; and yet they seemed to possess a more comprehensive notion of humanity than many humans.

"Sunshine, would you mind passing me the cornstarch, please?"-their request pushed kurapika out of his reflection.

"Sure, how...how much?"- he vacillated.

"15 grams, please."-he poured the cornstarch into a small jar and passed it to them.

"Thank you!"-they continuously added the starch into the mixture. It felt so homely to cook together.

Kurapika remembered seeing his mother cook, accompanying her in the kitchen and sometimes passing her some things. (Y/n) remembered how they liked to sit in the breakfast nook's chairs to read while their grandmother prepared meals that they still remember nowadays with affection.

"Now that the milk is boiling, we add it to the yolk mixture, and we return it to the saucepan!"-they announced.-"It says we have to be careful and to stir continuously until the custard thickens."

"At the Solstitium celebrations, what different activities did you used to do?"-the blonde continued to ask with a soft smile. He loved to hear his beloved's memories.

"Oh! We had a lot of activities! Some carried out by the different groups for the rest: Dogs and wolves had a chorus howling to the moon, rabbits, and deers their dance. I participated in the ball of cats and mice, but I was the only cat, which converted it rather the cat and mice dance."-they gushed, happy words flowing like honey.-"At those parties, we wore beautiful and distinctive gears. They were bright and full of embroidered flower decorations. We all got united to dance and roar around bonfires, the children drew pictures, made flower crowns, and presented plays, music was played. But what I loved the most was the spring dance. The participants gathered around a noble flower decor and we danced holding hands and ribbons until we could no longer stand. The last one to hold, for enduring all the dance, he was named spring's royalty! And had an honored seat during the rest of the celebration."-They continued to whip the cream until cooked, a soft expression never leaving their face. Once removed from the heat they added a tablespoon of butter and left to rest in the refrigerator.

Kurapika would have loved to see (Y/n) dance. A real shame. At least he already knew why they always used some embroidered flower decoration.

"Are you ready to make the almond cream?"-they continued, persistent in their crusade for the dessert.-"Kurapika, please put two entire eggs in a bowl, 100 grams of sugar, 125 grams of almond powder, and 100grams of soft butter, please. I'll mix it."-(Y/n) requested as they washed their hands. You couldn't tell they cooked poorly, but some practice was lacking, resulting in some spattering. Kurapika obliged their request, it was not uncommon for one to ask the other to do things. They didn't usually argue about "who was in the lead"; it was stupid. They just helped mutually.

"Hunny bun!"-another pet name (Y/n) liked. But how couldn't they? Kurapika was sweet as one! Hearing the honeyed name he came to them -"Here!"-The container with the almond cream was brought to his face. A very sweet smell filling his nose.-"It smells good, doesn't it?"-they bragged with a bright smile. 

He smiled too, seeing someone you love happy, spreads happiness.-"I can't deny that it smells delightful! We made nice work, darling."

"And we have not finished yet! The final result is even more scrumptious."-they announced.

(Y/n) stared a moment into the sticky sweet cream filling. They then directed silently towards their lover, resting a moment, supporting his weight on the counter. they took some of the mixture with two of their fingers and smeared it on his face.

"Boop!"-they started to laugh at the boy's face of surprise. They had already made some plays, but never pranks before. Oh! It was better for him to get accustomed to it, they were mischievous sometimes!

"Hey! Why did you do that?"-he of course faked some anger, but couldn't hide his smile.-"Come here! I will get revenge on you, sneaky cat!"

They screeched covering their smile with both hands. Kurapika started chasing them around the kitchen, as they slipped away and they avoided his grasp. They were there for a while. At one point, (Y/n) even got on all fours in their cat form as they jumped and ran from side to side just to complicate the situation for him. They eventually ran out of air and ended up getting caught.

"No, no, no, no!"-they started producing noises between hissing and laughing. Having them already in his grip, Kurapika cleaned the almond cream from his features with his hand and stamped it on their face. (Y/n)'s first reaction was to shrug their shoulders executing a grimace, wrinkling their face with a weird smile to next shook their head to the sticky foreign sensation.

"You asked for it (Y/n)! I told you I will get a payback!"-he mocked. It felt so gratifying to play a little!

"Jokes on you, my dear. I'm a cat!"-they snickered back, with their wands on the hips. They proceeded to wipe the candy with the back of their hand and lick it.-"Mouthwatering!"

They both laughed out loud, forgetting for a brief moment full of joy all their sorrows and desolations.

"You got fortunate. I want to taste it too. Let's finish the tart."-he smirked after giggling.

"It appears perfectly fair to me! We just have to incorporate the custard into the almond cream and the filling will be ready."-they continued to chuckle.

"And then we bake it?"-he inquired, really wanting to taste the dessert, it was merely the filling, but the smell was appetizing.

"I wish that, my love. But in the book, it says we must leave the dough rest some more time."-was the answer, accompanied with a light head shake. They had already calmed down completely.

"In that case, I will go sit down a moment."-Kurapika was starting to feel drained. It was late at night, and they had had a heavy day.

"Then I will prepare tea, is that okay?"-they said softly, realizing their weariness.

Between the warmth of the tea, the comfort of the armchair, and the feeling of peace the sleepiness grew in him. It was good at home. He didn't even realize he fell asleep.

~

Kurapika felt a poke on his right cheek and a sweet smell.

"Kurapika."- a whispering voice sang.-"My love, the frangipane is ready!"

His head was resting on the back of the chair. When he opened his eyes, he discovered a (e/c) pair with dilated pupils looking at him tenderly. He raised his head and looked around. As he looked down, he observed a padded blanket covering his body.

"You feel asleep."-(Y/n) whispered to him so as not to stun him.-"But the cake is ready and warm."-their eyes looked a bit tired too. A patisserie sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The cake was round, golden, and shiny. The crust had some simple flower-carved motif.

His lover was sitting by his side, waiting with an impatient stare and a smile. Kurapika sat back in his spot. (Y/n) approached the pastry and cut two pieces, placing them in round candy plates, passing him his share. It was two layers of golden puff pastry with a light almond luscious filling in-between. It had a sweet, buttery aroma. 

He grabbed the spoon and took a taste of the desert. The top was crispy and buttery, and the interior creamy, sweet and soft, a little fruity. It was a delicious homey and beloved flavor, as from an unknown childhood.

(Y/n) watched him waiting impatiently for his answer.

"It's deletable."-he smiled.

Then, they took a spoonful of cake. "Yummy!"-Immediately flapping their hand in happiness while savoring the candy.-"We did it! It tastes just like I remember."-they approved with a smile.-"My mami always doing what I can't, even believing in me when I don't."-they laughed.

"She left you a good recipe."-he assured.

"I'm certain she's proud of us in this precise moment."-they added, looking down at their plate.

"Did you do the flowers?"-Kurapika wondered, examining the crust of the tart.

(Y/n) hummed and nodded in confirmation-"With a scalpel!"

It made sense that they were skilled with blades, they were doctors after all.

"I used to eat this very often with my brother."-they mentioned taking another nibble of cake.

"You had a brother?"-he was surprised, they never had suggested the existence of siblings before.

"Not as such."-they tilted their heads, reflecting a way to describe it-" We were offsprings from different parents. Though we were both only children. In our community, in these cases, we were assigned a symbolic sibling. The fraternity was for taking care of each other."-The Kurta Clan didn't have something equivalent, but from what little they had mentioned, the Unilium were also a tiny community. Depending on their unison to preserve and care for each other. That practice, within its private Clan's rules, made sense.-"His name is Julian, he was a dog. As I was raised by wolves, by right of blood, I belonged to the order of wolves. Canis Lupus and Canis Lupus Familiaris, by proximity. Moreover, as we were from litters of just two years apart, we got joined."

Of the two, perhaps it was (Y/n) who spoke less about their origins and Clan. Kurapika had already mentioned, albeit vaguely: Pairo, his grandfather, and some adventures of the Lusko province. It also cannot be overlooked that (Y/n) liked to ask questions about it and always listened to him with application and interest in the subject. They generally cared about learning about the Kurta.

"And the cats? Didn't you had your order?"-he pondered, it was his turn to learn.

"Something similar. I was the only cat... I mean, not because it's something special, there just hasn't been a cat in a while. Finally, it was my turn."-they shared.-"The method of organization was somewhat tricky. If your parents were of a different race than yours, you belonged to their order; having been raised by them. Like a blood right, in that manner, no one was left without an order."-they specified once more-"The proximate orders were united. It was not a caste system, only that rabbits did not have the same abilities and dilemmas as wolves, for example. Having someone who had been through the same or similar as you eased."

They were silent for a few seconds, remembering. Kurapika wanted to ask more about their brother although he wasn't sure if it was convenient.

"Julian was a nice dog."-they looked down and stared at the tart piece a moment, with a trembling smile. Maybe they felt Kurapika's curiosity about the case. Perhaps they just wanted to remember him, who knows. But he started talking as if he knew accurately what was on the other person's mind.

"Poor him, they forced him to babysit me!"-they laughed, easing again-"His favorite food was egg sandwich."-they snickered-"Isn't that weird? One would expect something else..."-they continued to chuckle-"I don't know, something special. Some pasta, some stew, but no, just that. I mean, it was beneficial for me. Extorting him with food was pretty easy."- They always had been sneaky and playful after all! 

After that joke, they were silent for another moment. Kurapika wanted to say something to cheer them up, he had to. They continuously did. But they got ahead of him, speaking just as he opened his mouth.

"Kurapika, please wait here, I have something for you!"-they begged, heading to their kitchen. It didn't take long for them to come back with a large bouquet of beautiful flowers of different colors. The flowers were placed in several layers in long stems. They sat down next to him and offered them to him with a gentle and bashful smile. Kurapika had a surprised expression. He was not expecting a gift, less so unexpectedly.

(Y/n) avoided his gaze looking at the bouquet and tilting their head.

"They are gladioli."-they stated softly-"Its general symbolism is that of innate elegance. Its structure resembles that of a sword, recalling victory and strength. As well as the sources of ideals and honor."-they began to explain-"I also selected certain particular colors. White gladioli besides symbolize remembrance; oranges to others furthermore are an invitation to love; reds are for passion and strength of the spirit; finally, pink are a sign of good wishes. Gladioli are also known as the flower of victory."-their face was burning.-"I offer them to you as a genuine symbol of appreciation and love." Kurapika took the flowers and stared at them. He carefully touched the fragrant petals; they were fine. He was extremely touched by the gesture. He felt accepted and supported. The gift was overflowing with love and care, it was honoring. 

"Thank you (Y/n), they are precious."-he was not sure how to express all the warm feelings that were flooding him at that moment, and the drowsiness did not do him any favors-"thank you, dearly."- He had an immense desire to hug them, to hold them close and never let go.

"Kurapika, you're exhausted."-they delicately remarked, smiling lovingly-"We should go to bed, sorry for keeping you awake."-They got up and gathered the supplies before Kurapika could respond.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine."- he tried to reassure them when they came back.

"It's still 2:43 am. the most suitable thing is to go to sleep."- they couldn't deny they were tired as well.

"I suppose your right..."-he didn't had much force left, the tiredness was taking over.

They both marched to the bedroom. The bed was full of stuffed animals like last time. (Y/n) directed themselves to the bathroom.

"I'll use the restroom a moment if you don't mind."-they announced. 

"Are you taking a shower at this hour? Is it needed?"-he asked astonished. It was quite late and they seemed fatigued.

"Mmm... something alike, is intricate to explain. Although I promise I'm not going to delay."-they explained getting into the bedroom. Kurapika took advantage of that time to change clothes and put on his loose white pajamas. 

As promised, they didn't took long. When they came back with slightly damp hair, the blonde had barely had time to arrange all his belongings and was getting into bed.  (Y/n) got into bed on the same side as last time. This time they took the initiative and approached Kurapika, cupping his face. It was one of those rare moments when they looked into his eyes. He took those opportunities to admire their (e/c) catlike eyes. They were special and wonderful to him. They said nothing. (Y/n) slowly approached him and gave him a shaky kiss. It was the first time they had kissed him on the lips. The order of events in the relationship may not be the conventional ones. But Kurapika was aware that close physical contact costed them. He didn't mind taking it carefully either, it was worth it to him. It was a quick kiss. He leaned forward and kissed them again. They tasted sweet. Both finally leaned on the bed, close to each other, putting their faces together. (Y/n) slightly rubbed their cheek against his before snuggling. Holding him tight, they started to pet Kurapika's soft blonde hair.

"Goodnight darling." He whispered, feeling so loved, and being overcome by sleep.

"Goodnight sunshine"-they muttered back-"I'm assured they would have too loved you..."

#kurapika kurta x reader #kurapika x reader #hxh scenarios #hxh x reader #hxh #kurapika hxh #kurapika kurta #hunter x hunter #kurapika #kurapika imagine

[imagining-in-the-margins]

did u hear the new allegations against matthew??

I won’t be addressing this again and any further Anons will go unanswered and not posted. This topic is extremely triggering for me and I appreciate your understanding.

(🚨TW: ephebophilia, sexual assault discussions 🚨)

Edit (4/12): If you’re reading this to try and gather information to harass me, I already redacted it, so good luck with your L❤️

Yes, I have. I think everyone has. I truly believe that the third party being discussed was very possibly made uncomfortable by Matthew. He is a person capable of being, well, a person. I’ve always said I don’t know him so I can’t tell you who he is or what he’s like. It is 100% possible that he did something to make her uncomfortable. If he did, her feelings are valid, understandable, and he owes her an apology.

Unfortunately, as someone who comes from an Ivy League parent, I know that the camp they’re referring to is Stanford Sierra, which only allows employees who have spent the past 2/3 semesters at Stanford, meaning you would have to be at least past your freshman year. Considering I graduated early at 16 and I was still 18 that Summer (with a late birthday), I find it extremely unlikely they employed a minor. Because of this major inconsistency, I’m taking the allegations with a grain of salt.

I know how complex of a subject this is and how easily our own stories get taken away, manipulated, and used for fame. I deeply relate to everyone who’s ever felt like what was described. It is an awful, horrible pain I wish on no one. If she comes out and confirms the story (which was told for her without any obvious sign of permission), I will support her. But right now a lot of it doesn’t add up and I’ve chosen to continue enjoying the content I enjoy per usual.

EDIT: For those still sending me messages/comments asking for information, I will not be providing it. There are no news articles about it. It was a DM that went viral from a stranger talking about a story they heard from someone else about something that happened 4 years ago. The original speaker has since admitted that she was “being sardonic” (joking) in her original story (which has been altered in dramatic ways, including the girl’s age).

These kinds of “joking” accusations are exactly why I don’t trust people who are speaking for others without permission. I don’t support people speaking for victims unless they have their consent. It re-victimizes people and leads to messy situations like this, which never should have occurred.

Stop messaging me about it.

#answer #mgg #tw csa