#I took a fuck ton of photos and ill post a few :)

[definegirlfriends]

blurry hand

Love On Tour // Madison Square Garden // Night Three 

#my pics #hlupdate #hlcreators #I cant for the life of me ever remember who reblogs stuff help #love on tour: new york 3 #tumblr please don't ruin the quality I am BEGGING #either way ! #I took a fuck ton of photos and ill post a few :) #or a lot #we shall see

[blueskrugs]

5 Times You Posted about Him, and One Time He Posted about You | Chris Kreider

I sent an anon to @kreiderrider​ way back at the end of April for Chris’ birthday and still haven’t stopped thinking about it, so apparently I’m writing it now. also for @bobohtuzzo​ for our never-ending loop of being mean to each other with Chris gifs.

TL;DR: this is Taylor’s fault for making me a Kreider girl, and and both hers Bayan’s fault for encouraging and enabling me.

length: 2.8k words

You knew when you started dating Chris that he was not social media’s biggest fan. And that was fine. You were hardly an influencer yourself, and you were pretty sure you followed more dogs than people on Instagram. So the pictures you took of Chris– Chris being cute, Chris doing mundane things, Chris with his bitchface on– stayed firmly in a locked album on your phone.

Until one day when you were sitting on the couch, leaning against Chris while he read a book, flipping through Instagram stories on your phone. One of your friends from high school had posted a cute picture with her boyfriend, and you paused to look at it. Chris rested his chin on your shoulder to peer at your phone. 

“They’re cute,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. You hummed in agreement. “How come you never post about me?”

You twisted around to look at him. “First of all, how do you even know that I don’t? Second of all, you want nothing to do with any sort of social media.” 

Chris flicked your nose. “Mika tells me things. And I don’t hate social media, I just don’t really get the point of it. Who the fuck cares what I’m doing every second of the day, who I got lunch with, where I got lunch? Anyway, I don’t really mind if you post about me every once in a while. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide our relationship just because I avoid Instagram like the plague.” Chris pressed a kiss to your forehead to punctuate his sentence. 

You settled back in against Chris, resuming your mindless scrolling, and looking forward to the first opportunity to show off your boyfriend. 

Chef Chris Chris loved to cook. Part of it came from his absolutely ridiculous diet, you knew, but he also enjoyed the quiet time that cooking gave him, a way to be productive without requiring a ton of energy. The kitchens in either of your apartments were often filled with the smell of something good, for lunches, for dinners on nights off, for a quick meal after a game. Chris rarely let you help him with anything, which was fine because you preferred to bake, and it let you watch him. 

There was something about watching Chris cook that you just adored. He would always end up so focused, a strange intensity in his eyes that resembled the look he sometimes got on the ice. But then you would say something– a stupid joke that you’d seen on the internet, a funny story from work, or a something ridiculous your dog had done that morning– and he would laugh, his eyes lighting up again, and his dimples showing. 

Tonight, Chris was standing over the stove making a risotto. You had begged him for it during a rare full weekend off at home for the Rangers, and he had finally conceded. One of your playlists was playing softly in the living room, and you were perched on a barstool at the island, your dog curled beneath your feet. You weren’t sure if he wanted to be close to you, or if he was just waiting for Chris to give him a piece of chicken. 

Chris was stirring the risotto intently, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth a little bit. You were already scrolling through your phone, so you couldn’t resist snapping a quick picture for your Instagram story, simply throwing an emoji of a chef in the corner.

You were checking the views on your story later that night and responding to the few people that had replied to it, when Chris saw your phone screen. 

“Hang on, gimme that,” he said, pausing the hockey game he was watching. “How did I not notice you take this?” He looked closer at your phone. “And how many fucking followers do you have, holy shit.”

You took your phone back, seeing that Brett Howden had asked why he didn’t get any dinner. “I got a bunch more after I started dating you,” you said. Chris looked concerned. “Don’t make that face, you dork. I don’t really care, and if I did, I could just make my account private.” 

Chris still looked a little alarmed at the number of people who had seen him cook dinner, but he turned back to the hockey game, anyway. 

Sing Us a Song There was a piano in Chris’ apartment. It was tucked away in the spare bedroom, and he avoided playing it when people were over, even when it was just the two of you. You had lamented that fact once, and Chris had said something about just wanting to spend all his time focused on you. You let it go, but that didn’t mean you weren’t dying to hear him play, especially since everyone who had could only compliment him.

It was nearly Christmas when you let yourself into Chris’ apartment with your spare key. The two of you had spent an entire weekend decorating, and the space was absolutely filled with Christmas spirit. You had been baking cookies, and you were dropping some off for Chris to bring home to Massachusetts and his family. You smiled as you heard the familiar chords of “Celebrate Me Home” echoing through the apartment. Your penchant for listening to Christmas music at all hours was beginning to rub off on Chris finally. You paused, though, when you realized that the voice drifting through the apartment was not Kenny Loggins, but Chris. 

You set the cookies and your purse down gently on a counter, kicking off your snow boots and quietly making your way through the apartment. You peered around the doorway of the spare bedroom. Chris’ back was to you, since the piano faced the windows looking out over the city, as he continued singing. You slipped your phone out of your coat pocket and began recording. You made sure to keep quiet as Chris began playing “The Christmas Song.” You stayed there for a minute longer before putting your phone away and walking into the room.

Chris jumped a little as you put your hand on his shoulder. “Your hands are freezing, Christ, Y/N. How long have you been here?”

You kissed his temple. “Sorry. Just came to drop off cookies and couldn’t resist listening to you for a while. I wish you’d sing for me more often.” Chris blushed all the way up to his ears. 

Later that night, back home and with a pie in the oven this time, you edited the videos you took a little bit and put them up on your Instagram story. You left it captionless.

Your DMs were soon filled with people commenting on how talented Chris was and begging for more videos of him. You screenshotted them all– maybe a little smugly– and sent them to Chris. All you got back was an emoji sticking its tongue out at you. 

Somewhere on a Beach There was absolutely nothing that you loved more than a good vacation. As the Rangers’ bye week approached, Chris was getting desperate to get out of the city, and you were looking forward to a week on a beach.

The Rangers won their last game before the break, and then the two of you were on a plane to Hawaii for some valuable time in the sun. Chris had found a rental with a private stretch of beach, and you both had bags full of books to read.

“Chris, you need to put on sunscreen!” you yelled as he walked across the sand, sunglasses perched on his nose and book in hand, on the first day. He had complained but let you cover him in sunscreen; he got burnt anyway. 

Mika made a crispy potato joke later that night in response to Chris’ whiny text. 

You got a couple good Instagram posts out of the vacation. One was simply pictures of you that you had made Chris take– “like a good Instagram boyfriend, babe” – plus a couple well-executed timer shots of both of you on the beach: sandy toes, sunburnt nose. The other was a small collection of photos you took of Chris throughout the week, in various positions in various chairs, all with a different book. Your favorite was the time you had caught him asleep on the beach, book still clutched precariously in his hand, mouth hanging open as he burned in the sun. I will never understand how he can read a book a day and still never run out of books, you had typed as a caption. 

Dog Lover Chris was sick. You were sure he had been fighting through shit for nearly two weeks but had been too stubborn to admit it, and he had finally hit a wall. You had caught him leaning heavily against the bathroom sink that morning, dizzy and nauseous, as he attempted to get ready for practice; it still took both you and Mika yelling at him, with more than one threat to call Quinn and/or his mother, before he agreed to stay home. 

You had forced him to at least eat a piece of toast before you let him collapse on the couch under most of the blankets you had in your apartment. You sent Mika a picture of Chris in his fever haze, zoned out while watching the morning news. 

You luckily had the day off, so you were able to stay close to your idiot boyfriend with a penchant for ignoring injury and illness. It started storming after you ate lunch, rain lashing against the windows and lightning lighting up the dark New York sky, shrouded with clouds. Chris was still slouched on one end of the couch, barely having moved all morning. You were sitting at the other end with a book, his feet in your lap and thumb idly rubbing circles on his ankle, having ignored Chris’ protests that you were going to get sick, too. 

Later, when you were making dinner, you peeked into your living room to check on Chris. He had thrown most of his blankets onto the floor, and he was sprawled out on his stomach, solidly asleep. Your dog had crawled up onto the couch with him and was laying protectively over Chris’ legs. You smiled at them before reaching for your phone to take a picture. 

First you sent it to Mika: “Sometimes I think he’s only dating me for my dog.” with an eye roll emoji. Mika laughed at that one. 

Then you posted it on your Instagram, this time with the caption everyone knows dog cuddles are the best medicine. Your replies were flooded with get-well wishes for Chris. 

Best Friends Everyone knew that Mika and Chris were pretty much inseparable, both on the ice and off of it. You and Irma had bonded over it one night, when what was supposed to be a nice double date devolved into Chris and Mika discussing the chances of various teams winning the Cup. It had only been November. 

You teased the two about their codependency, but honestly it was endearing. Mika ended up over for dinner more nights than not, and you texted him more than you texted your mom. Mika sometimes crashed movie nights at Chris’ apartment, and all three of you ended up in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets before the end of the night without fail. It was completely undeniable that Chris loved Mika, so it was inevitable that you loved Mika, too. 

The Rangers were having another outdoor practice in Central Park. You loved going to any practice, but the outdoor ones were especially fun to watch. It always seemed like half of New York showed up to watch, and the boys were always more energetic and idiotic than usual.

You hung around close to the boards behind one of the goals during practice. You got some good pictures of the boys warming up, including one particularly cute one of Artemi sticking his tongue out at you. As practice went on, you took more pictures as various Rangers sped past you. The best opportunity was when Chris scored a – frankly ridiculous, honestly – goal over Hank’s shoulder, set up perfectly by Mika. They slammed into the boards next to you in celebration, and you managed to snap a great angle of that smile Mika seemed to reserve specifically for Chris.

All of the WAGs and families were allowed onto the ice after practice ended. You carefully made your way over towards where Chris and Mika were lazily leaning against the boards near one of the benches, nearly running over tripping over Igor’s dog in the process when he ran in front of you, gleefully dragging a leash behind him. 

Chris was facing you, but he didn’t see you approach. You, however, could see the dorky grin he had aimed at Mika from where he was slouching against the wall. As you got closer, you took out your phone and snuck one more picture of the two of them.

You couldn’t resist posting those pictures of your boys. You made sure to tag Mika, adding on the caption someone tell me how I can get a boy to look at me the way Chris and Mika look at each other. 

Mika replied with an eye roll emoji and a blue heart. Irma replied with about five cry-laughing emojis. Chris just looked offended. 

His Turn Chris had managed to convince you to join him for a week in Connecticut, and you had managed to convince him to let you drive up. He grumbled about it all the way out of the city. 

You had your sunglasses on and your hair was loose around your shoulders. Chris’ phone was plugged into your aux, but he had turned on your own road trip playlist. (He complained about your taste in music most of the drive, too.) As you got closer to Connecticut, Chris rolled the windows down. Every once in a while, you glanced over at him, only to already find him watching you with a smile on his face, eyes crinkly and dimple showing. 

You were singing the words to a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs, laughing as the wind ripped the words from your throat and out the window, when Chris reached over and picked up your phone. You turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the road,” he scolded, still holding your now-unlocked phone. You raised an eyebrow but turned back to the highway in front of you. 

The song changed again, this time to a Queen song, and you laughed again. Chris started singing along with you, and you forgot that he had been taking a picture of you. 

Later that night, long after the sun set, you got a notification that you had been tagged in a new Instagram post, by @2kreids0. You squinted at your phone screen, confused. You were sitting out on the porch under the stars, and Chris had gone in for dessert (something still stupidly healthy– “It’s the offseason, Kreider!” you had protested) only a couple minutes before.

Still frowning a little, you tapped on the notification. A picture of yourself, with the sun in your face and hair blowing out the window, laughing, eyes bright underneath your sunglasses, filled your screen. It could only have been taken by Chris in your car earlier. You looked at the Instagram handle again.

“Hey, babe?” you called as Chris stepped back outside, trying to balance two bowls and two glasses of wine. He looked up at you. “Did you make an Instagram?” Chris blushed. You looked back at the picture, this time reading the caption below it: I’ll drive anywhere with you, just to hear you sing your favorite songs. 

Chris had moved to stand next to you, still blushing to the tips of his ears. “I might have.” You laughed, taking your glass of wine from Chris’ hand and pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I thought you didn’t see the point?” you asked.

Chris shrugged. “I didn’t. Then you started posting pictures of me all the time, and I started to understand why people share the things they love for everyone to see.” 

“You’re a sap, Kreider,” you said, all fondness. You smiled at him from behind the rim of your wine glass as he took another picture of you. “Is this what I’m like?” you asked. Chris let out a surprised laugh. 

The next morning you were tagged again by Chris. You rolled your eyes. When you opened the notification, you saw the picture from the night before, but there was also a second one, one you didn’t know Chris had taken. It was of you, of course, but you were glaring at something on your phone over your coffee mug, glasses on and hair a mess. This time he had captioned it get you a girl who can do both. 

“Christopher!” You were already beginning to regret showing him exactly how to work Instagram the night before. As you heard Chris laughing his way down the stairs, though, you thought that you could really get used to it, even if Chris probably had some revenge posts in store for you. 

#cait writes things #chris kreider #chris kreider fic #chris kreider imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic

[ikesenhell]

Deep Waters

You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTE: A conversation with @a-shout-to-the-void very pointedly inspired me; she made a statement about how Shingen is like an elder brother that you need to push in a pool, and, well... yes. Agreed. So here we go. There’s very lightly implied family abuse, and a lot of sickness/illness related content.

He’d always stood out one way or another. In middle school, he’d been talkative and charming in a way all the other boys weren’t, discovering girls long before his peers got the idea to be kind to them. High school, he grew taller than everyone else so quickly that one day, all of his pants were shorts. Typical Shingen: always making himself the center of attention, whether he asked for it or not. 

“You can stop showboating, you know.” Yukimura groused around a bottle of hard cider. They lounged at the poolside, languishing like snakes in the shade. Ripples of heat shimmered on the concrete, but none of them had thought to bring swimsuits. It was one of those lazy summer days, the last one before they all went to college, and she paced around the length of the pool, dipping her feet in as she walked. 

“Showboating. Me?” Shingen grinned at his friend, finishing up an Instagram post. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, Yuki.”

“The way you’re posing for photos.”

The redhead opened his eyes in mock surprise. “Me? Posing? No, Yuki. I’m simply presenting my best side for the ladies who’ve so graced me by glancing at my page.”

“Allow me to translate.” Sasuke cleared his throat, his transition glasses dark as he sipped on his root beer. He hadn’t said as much, but they all got that he wanted to save his first drink until it was legal. “You know I--as the one and only Shingen Takeda--had to do it to ‘em.”

Kenshin swatted at his friend with his fan. “It’s too hot for your tomfoolery, Shingen. It’ll be your fault if Sasuke breaks out more memes.”

“Tough crowd.” But Shingen was utterly unphased. Instead he rose and stretched, joining her at the edge of the pool and wrapping an arm over her shoulder. 

“Shingen,” she whined. “It’s too hot for that.”

She knew a half-second before that he was taking the chance. A sly grin rising to his lips, he calmly answered, “I’m sorry. Do I need to leave so you can cool off?”

Just as calmly, she took a handful of his shirt and shoved him into the pool. 

“Shit!” Yukimura sprung backward to preserve his phone. The wave slapped the glasses straight off Sasuke’s face and sprayed Kenshin, who glared between dripping strands of hair. But Shingen surfaced grinning.

“You’re lucky my phone is waterproof.” He set it on the poolside anyway. “You wound me. My confidence was betrayed. That means this is war.”

“If you think you can pull the same trick on me, then you’re wrong.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.” Shingen trudged from the water, wringing out his shirt fruitlessly before casting it aside altogether. It was so, so hard to think of Shingen as the middle schooler she’d known when she could see the hard ridges of muscle laid out before her. Maybe it was his flirty nature. Maybe it was that he’d cared for himself for the last few years, bouncing between Kenshin, Yuki, and Sasuke’s couches rather than return home to his bad home life. Still, she held fast, backing up as he advanced. “Yuki?”

“Oh no you don’t!”

It was too late. Yuki tackled her from behind, Shingen barreling into the two of them, and they all three went flying into the deep end of the pool. She surfaced in Shingen’s arms, swatting him around the shoulders. 

“You ass!”

“Agreed.” Kenshin sourly rubbed back his hair, eyes like a death laser on the redhead. “You got me soaked.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Shingen propped her between the two of them. Not that she did much good as a shield; he was broader than her in every possible way. “And you can’t be mean to the Princess, here. Look at this Goddess’ face.”

“Don’t bring me into this!”

“Well.” Sasuke sighed and set his glasses down on the pool table. “I suppose that means that this is war for us, too, Kenshin.”

“It most certainly is.” 

“Bring it on, you fucks!” Yuki brandished a pool noodle at them, slapping it ineffectively as Sasuke dove in.

Sophomore year of college. Her cell phone rang while she lingered in her dorm. It was Sasuke, so she picked up.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hello. Have you seen Shingen lately?”

Shingen? She was the only one that went to college with him. They shared Art History together, but he hadn’t been in a week, which was strange. He usually sailed in and snagged the seat by her, winking at the other women and text-flirting on tinder through the whole thing. “No. He didn’t answer my texts, either. He sick or something?”

“That’s why I was asking. He’s still posting on Instagram.”

Of course he was. She put Sasuke on mute and checked the app. Sure enough, he was posting all kinds of selfies, but... “Aren’t these from like, last year?”

“And he’s passing them off as from now? Yes. That’s why I called to ask.”

Huh. Well, his dorm was only two floors down. She shrugged. “I’ll go down and check, though if Yuki hasn’t already shown up to shake him, then I don’t know what world I’ve wandered in to.”

She knocked on the door and his roommate answered--a lean guy who played on the soccer team. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember his name. “Hey. Shingen there?”

The roommate just cocked his brow. “Nah. I thought he went off to stay the night at some girl’s house or something. You haven’t heard from him?”

“No. When’d he go missing?” 

“Like... last Friday?”

Four days ago. Brain spinning, she texted Yuki, Kenshin, and Sasuke a simple I can’t find him.

Shingen sailed into Art History on Thursday, taking the seat by her with all his characteristic dramatic flair. 

“Seat taken, little Goddess?”

She just glared at him from under her eyebrows. “Th’fuck have you been? We’ve all been worried as fuck.”

“I noticed.” His smile was quiet and muted, which boded ill. Waving his phone at her, he continued. “Sorry. I was a bit caught up. You know how it is.”

“I don’t know. Do I? You gonna scare us like that again?”

For the briefest second she caught a hint of something like worry in his expression. It was the fleeting honesty of a man feeling trapped. Just as quickly, he grinned at her. “I don’t know. Do I get rewarded if I don’t?”

“Yeah, by Yuki and I not beating the fuck out of you.”

He just winked at her. Against her wishes, her stupid heart thumped heavy in response. 

Next month he went missing again. This time, Sasuke was ready for it. 

“Alright.” The connection in the dorms wasn’t great, but the video chat held nonetheless. Sasuke shoved his glasses up his nose and resumed typing. “I’ll just switch on the tracker and you can go hunt him down.”

“Isn’t that like... spying?”

“No,” Kenshin snapped on the other line, not caring enough to keep himself properly in video frame. It looked like he was cleaning his knife collection. “It’s aggressive measures to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”

“I mean, Shingen does tons of stupid shit,” Yuki groused. “Anyway, is it turned on, Sasuke?”

“Yes. Let me just remote into her computer and upload the app.”

She followed the location downtown, navigating the patchwork maze of streets. The fall air was chilly now. Leaves skittered around her ankles as she rounded the corner to the last stop and--

Came face to face with the hospital. 

No way. This had to be a mistake. She checked the tracker twice, wracking her brain. Shingen seemed fine when he came to class. His color was good, he sounded fine... maybe it was a mental health issue? Her anxiety surged. Taking a stabilizing breath, she walked for the door--only to bump into the man himself. 

“Shingen?”

He faltered, staring at her as if she’d dropped from the sky. It was the first time she’d taken him by surprise in years, probably. Just as quickly, he composed himself. “Oh, if a Goddess herself didn’t come to walk with me. Was it fate that you arrived here?”

“What are you doing at the hospital?”

“Me? Visiting family.” Calm as could be, he tucked his hand in his pants pocket and looped an arm through hers. “Aunt. She’s in hospice.”

“I didn’t know you talked to any of your family anymore.” He smelled nice. The blend of crisp wind, his grey wool coat, the lingering aroma of his shampoo, and a distant campfire swirled together all at once. “I thought you’d been out of contact for years.”

“Ah, my aunt isn’t bad.” Shingen didn’t elaborate. “But anyway, she wanted someone to keep her company for a while, so I came and stayed a bit, went to her house and babysat her parakeets. You know.”

It did sound like Shingen to disappear in the name of helping someone. “Couldn’t you have--you know--let us know rather than worrying us all?”

“You know Yuki. He’d want to leap to my defense, tell me to stop seeing family members and all that.” A pause. “Princess--would you promise me something?”

“What’s that?”

And he turned to face her. All the charming glitter in his eyes was gone. Shingen was rarely serious--and when he was, it was never good. “Can you promise me not to tell the others about this?”

“What?” What was going on? “Shingen, why the hell would they care?”

“I just don’t want to hear about it. Please. Tell them anything. Just don’t tell them about this whole thing.” He paused. “Tell them you found me at some girl’s house.”

“Like that one time we couldn’t find you around Halloween, and Yuki went looking and walked in on you banging some chick on the couch?”

Shingen snickered and winked at her. “That’s the spirit.”

“I can’t just lie to them.”

“Why not? Kenshin will accept it. Yuki will accept it. Sasuke might not, but he also won’t press it, and he’s too far away to do his typical ninja act. Just--I just don’t want to rehash the same old conversation with Yuki. Please?”

A crumpled leaf caught in his hair. Reaching on her tiptoes, she brushed it from him, only for it to fall to pieces in her hand. Talk about a bad sign. 

“Alright,” she agreed at last. “Fine.”

He flashed a grin at her and kissed her hands. All the blood in her rushed to her cheeks in reply. “Thank you, my Goddess.”

“You have to stop calling me that.”

Shingen laughed, deep and rich, and took her arm in his again. As they walked, she leaned into the solid wall of his muscle, quietly wondering if he’d ever thought to build a gate past his exterior at all. 

It was Finals Week when it all fell apart. 

Half of the student body was already gone. All she had left was the Art History final--the very last exam scheduled on the whole week, naturally. All was quiet. Outside, tiny flakes of snow danced through the alleyways and sidewalks of the city. 

And someone hammered on her door. 

“Hold up!” She was only wearing PJ pants and a thin bralette. Flinging on a hoodie, she zipped it up and opened the door to see Shingen hanging in the doorway. 

Or--not hanging, really. Bracing. His skin was pale, eyes wide, hands flexing frantically. It took her a half second to snatch up her keys. “Are you okay?”

“Could you--” He paused to smile. As if that would help! “Could you take me to the hospital, maybe?”

No more questions. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and half-carried him from the dorm. They only stopped once for him to throw up hard on the sidewalk. It was bright red.

“Fuck! Shingen--” 

“Sorry,” he wheezed. 

“Shut up. Don’t apologize.” 

Somehow she got him into the car, racing them to the hospital as quickly as the snow-slick streets would allow (and with a very liberal interpretation of acceptable driving laws). Even then, by the time they arrived at the emergency room, he was deathly pale. 

“Sorry,” he half-laughed again, the sound strained and nervous. “Sorry, this is all very--”

“Shut the fuck up, Shingen.” She didn’t bother getting him out of the car. Instead she sprinted inside and fetched a nurse. One look at his condition, and she called for a stretcher. 

It was bad. 

She lingered outside of the room for hours. A doctor came and gave her a diagnosis, treatment options, the... possibilities. “He doesn’t look great. There’s a chance he might not even make it. He named you as his medical advocate should he not be able to make choices.”

“Is--” Fuck. She rubbed the sleeve of her hoodie against her eyes, willing herself not to cry. God, she looked awful, too. “Sorry. Can I see him?”

“Yeah. He’s about to go into surgery. They’re prepping him now.”

Shingen was hooked up to more wires than she’d ever seen in her life. A nurse just finished delivering what looked like another shot just as she entered, the arrhythmic beating of his heart loud in the cold room. He tried to smile at her. 

“Oh, look,” he teased, his voice croaking. “A Goddess has graced me.”

“Shut up.” Hot tears stung at her eyes, but she squinted them away. “Shingen--”

But his smile faded. With more tenderness than she’d ever seen, he reached out and took her hand. God, she felt tiny next to him. She always had, but now--even now--especially now, with their palms matched up, she could see just how small she was in comparison. His grip was weak, so she tightened her grasp on him to compensate. 

“Princess,” he managed. “Don’t tell them.”

“You stupid fuck. I’m going to.”

“Don’t. I can’t do that to them.” He tried to reach across him to take her other hand, but it took so much visible effort that she just pushed him back down. “I can’t. Kenshin and Yuki and Sasuke have already done so much for me. They let me live with them. They’ve worried about me. I can’t burden them with this, too. I can’t stand burdening you with it.”

“You’re not burdening me.” What an idiot. She blinked at him, willing herself to be strong for the stupid, mule-stubborn, intelligent, handsome, charming man in front of her. “I want to be worried about you. I want to be here for you. Can’t you just let your friends love you?”

A sad smile slipped across his mouth, and though he said nothing, it whispered, I don’t know. 

She stayed at the hospital that night. It was freezing cold, and Shingen kept shivering, so she braved the snow outside and bought two blankets from a CVS. One had cats all over it, the other one planets. 

“Here.” She draped the cat blanket over him, tucking it in tight around his legs and arms. “Cause I know you just love pussy.” 

Shingen tried to keep down the laughter, but it was no use. Eventually he lapsed into coughing, dabbing a tissue to his mouth. “And you’ve got me all wrapped up like this. I feel like a cat burrito--a purrito.”

“I swear to God, Shingen. I’ll just leave you here.”

“Please no, my goddess.” He meekly wrapped his fingers with hers again. “Whatever you wish, so long as you stay.”

Silence draped between them, their hands entwined, the faint beep of the monitors a discordant beat with her heart. And then--oh. She’d read so many books about falling in love that she’d expected that moment; a surge like a tidal wave yanking her under, the spark of a flame, the blast of a roaring fire running through her body. Apparently not. And maybe it wasn’t love, exactly, not yet. Still. In her heart she could feel the first blast of air as she tipped over the edge of a cliff, and she wondered when it was that she’d taken the step forward to begin with. 

Where have you been? Sasuke texted her. You haven’t been showing up for our video chats. 

She didn’t get the chance to answer until after she’d helped Shingen back from the bathroom. He’d refused to let her help him with the blood still flecking his mouth, using her phone camera instead to help him clean himself. 

Sorry. Exams week is kicking my ass. 

That’s fine. Have you seen Shingen? He hasn’t shown up either.

For a long, long time, she stared at that text, wondering the best course of action. 

“Everything okay?” Shingen asked, as if he weren’t the one bedridden. “You seem deep in thought.”

“Yeah.” She tucked the phone away and propped his pillow up behind him. “That good?”

“Perfect.” For what felt like the millionth time, he wrapped his hand around hers again. Had he ever held her hand before this week? “Can I ask you something?”

“Hit me.”

“I think I’ll pass on that and just ask the question, thank you.”

“Shingen.”

He grinned cheekily and kept going. “Aren’t you planning on going back to your dorms at some point here? I don’t want to keep you away from your room on my account. You’ve got exams.”

“Yeah, it’s just for art history. Besides. Has it ever occurred to you that I’d want to be here?”

With a gesture, he answered, “This isn’t exactly an interesting place.”

“I’m not exactly an interesting person.”

For one rare, rare moment, his smile faded. Ever since his surgery he’d recovered a tiny bit of strength, and in the moment, it felt like he used it all to clench tighter around her hand. “I find you interesting.”

Flattery will get you nowhere, she wanted to say, but something in his stare arrested her. Instead they stood there staring at one another. His dark eyes swirled with a thousand unspoken thoughts, like the thrum of his heartbeat that she could hear around them hummed there, too. 

“Well.” That was all she could think to say. Her throat was dry, so she separated from him and fished up a bottle of water. “Yeah, so, I’m not gonna leave you here alone.”

“Is it because of my dashingly good looks?” He teased. She just rolled her eyes and swatted at his shoulder. 

That night as she curled up in the armchair to sleep, she watched Shingen toss and turn, his eyes unfocused and open. No doubt he was in pain. Without a word, she got up and slipped into the bed with him. 

“Princess?” He asked, wrapping his free arm around her regardless. “What are you doing?”

“You looked cold,” she lied, resting her head on his chest. “Is this comfortable?”

For a long, long time he was quiet. At last he leaned his cheek against her head. The soft huff of his breath tickled her brows, his thumb rolling in wide circles against her arm. 

“Yes,” he answered, low and certain. He still smelled good. How the hell could someone be brought so low, so sick, left for so long in a hospital, and still look and smell the way he did? Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as he nuzzled his nose into her scalp. “And you?”

“I’m where I want to be.”

“Mmm.” She felt his smile rather than saw it. “How funny. I was thinking the same thing.”

Okay, seriously. What the fuck is going on.

She stared at the text from Yuki and wondered how much longer she could keep up the avoidance game. Shingen wasn’t due for release from the hospital until at least next week, which was well into when the other three were back on break. Doubtless they’d want to get together, which posed an... interesting problem. That, and this wasn’t the kind of thing he could just play off. As much as Shingen tried to hide it, the physical stress showed. 

Besides--he was in his second surgery at that exact moment. She wasn’t in much of a mood to keep the secret. 

Some shit. I can’t exactly talk about it yet. I’m sorry for avoiding you guys about it. I promise I’ll come clean soon.

A long moment. Yuki copied in Kenshin and Sasuke on the next one. 

Uh, no. We come clean now. 

They discharged him on a Wednesday. He couldn’t walk without a cane, but he was walking, and that was an improvement. Gently she guided him into her car and they puttered down the slick, poorly-plowed streets. 

“We aren’t heading toward your apartment,” he noted. 

“No,” she agreed. “We aren’t.”

Shingen just smiled that quiet smile of his. “You told on me, didn’t you?”

“You bet your ass I did. What were you gonna do--tell Yuki you’d fucked someone too hard and thrown out your back or something?”

He laughed only a minute before it lapsed into coughs. “I was thinking more along the lines of being evasive until he gave up. He does eventually.”

“Yeah. Not this time.”

They pulled up in the driveway to Kenshin’s house. Almost immediately they were swarmed by the others, their doors being flung open. 

“You fucking jackass--”

“Now now, Yuki,” Shingen placated, struggling from the car with his cane. “That’s not the way to talk to your elder.” 

“Shingen.” Kenshin lingered on the porch, eyes flinty. “Welcome back. Now I’m going to kill you for evading us.”

“Good to know. If you’d do the honors rather quickly, that would be nice.”

As a unit they got him into his old, second-hand room. In years past they’d gathered on the couch in the living room, being noisy and rambunctious until Kenshin’s mother had come in to straighten them out, but now they moved all the Christmas decorations upstairs and made short work of livening up the room. Shingen set his mouth in a line, his eyes shimmering, and his friends did their best to pretend they didn’t see. Late into the night they all rolled around on the mattress, laughing and drinking and unwrapping presents until Kenshin’s mom poked her head in and shushed them.

“It’s four in the morning,” she whispered. “Go to sleep.”

 Twenty and up they all were, but they obediently opened the adjoining bonus room door, unrolling futons and sleeping bags. Kenshin eschewed his room to sleep on the floor with his friends, offering the battered plaid couch to her. Lights out. The rooms dipped into a hazy blue dark, snow outside catching the faint street lamps and reflecting in dreamy patterns on the ceiling. One by one, gentle snores encircled her. 

But she couldn’t sleep.

“Princess?” 

And apparently she wasn’t the only one.

Silently she slipped from the couch, pattering into Shingen’s room. He’d cast off his shirt, PJ pants riding low. She did her best to ignore the muscular dip of his hip down, down, down. 

“Hey, Goddess.” He smiled brilliantly in the dark, brushing back the blanket. “I’ve a question for you.”

“Hit me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You fucker.”

His laughter was gentle, but then it dipped into seriousness, his eyes bright and vulnerable in the light. “I don’t suppose our napping together in the hospital was a fluke?”

There were no heart monitors here, but she swore she could hear her own pulse beep beep beeping right before a momentary flatline. What was she supposed to say? 

“No.” She swallowed. “No. It wasn’t.”

He lifted his chin, offering a tender smile. “Then I don’t suppose you’d like to come and join me now?”

“Yuki and Sasuke and Kenshin will see, you know.”

And Shingen paused at that a long, long time. She watched the thought roll over and over in his mind, but at the end of it, he just brushed the blanket back further. “If you’d rather not for that reason, then I’d understand. But I’m still game.”

Settling onto the mattress, she just crossed her legs and grinned playfully. “I dunno, Shingen. Aren’t there some of your girlfriends on campus that you’d rather cuddle?”

His smile vanished. Shuffling his hand backward over the nightstand, he flipped on his phone for the first time since they’d gone to the hospital. Almost immediately, it began vibrating off the hook--unread messages, missed calls, notifications--but he ignored that and swiped into the app menu, selecting every single messenger and dating app. 

“Shingen?” She asked, uncertain.

“Hold on.” One by one, he flipped them open. Deactivated. Deactivated. Deactivated. His messages to other people were almost singularly populated with a mass copy-paste from him, dated a month ago: I hope there’s no hard feelings. Just not in the same place in my life anymore. I wish you all the best.

“Shingen,” she repeated, her pulse hammering out of control. “I was just teasing you. And--and why?”

“Cause.” He turned the phone back off and set it on the bedside table. “I had a come to Jesus moment that day you and I walked back from the hospital.”

“You mean the day you lied to me?”

“Okay, yes. That too. I apologize, sincerely. I didn’t want you to worry about me.” He flopped over onto his side, soft whorls of red hair like licking flame on the pillowcase. In the half-light, she could see teenage Shingen again: so full of smiles and light, always hiding his feelings, always shielding his friends from his pain. Reverently he tip-toed his fingertips over the knuckles of her bare hand. “But we were standing there outside, and you gave me this look when you were getting that leaf out of my hair, and I kind of realized that...” And he paused. “That I couldn’t kiss anyone and not think of you, right then. Because I wanted to kiss you.”

Silently she wriggled her feet under the blankets, shimmying up to him. He shot her a questioning look but accepted it anyway, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Just because I deleted them doesn’t mean you owe me anything, by the way. I don’t want you to feel like--”

“Shingen?” She tapped her fingertips over his mouth. “How’s the view from that hole you’re digging?”

He snickered against her hand. “If all I can see from it is you, then it’s a wonderful view indeed.”

“Flatterer.”

He didn’t deny it. Quietly he brushed his thumb over her forehead, easing the strands of hair from her eyes, and leaned in. Oh. He caught her lower lip between his and pulled on it ever so gently before sealing her completely. She’d imagined what it might be like before, but she’d never thought it would be so stable. Between the solid wall of his chest and his sturdy embrace and the careful, sweet pressure of his mouth, she wondered what might happen if she just melted into him. 

“Princess,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. “I don’t know if you wanna think about this just yet, but I’m kind of sweet on you. So maybe--if you want to think about it for a little bit--I’d like to take you on a few dates.”

“Is this the first one, then? In your bed? A bit forward, isn’t it?”

But they both chuckled. This time she let herself slip further into his arms, held fast and gentle all at once, and he kissed her forehead. 

“If you want it to be.”

“Mmm. I’ll think about it.”

He curled his hand through her hair and pet it, the silence falling thick around them. Outside, the snow began to fall once more. 

#Shingen Takeda #Takeda Shingen #Ikesen Shingen #Ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku #Ikesen fanfic #my writing #angst #Yukimura Sanada #Sanada Yukimura #Ikesen Yukimura #Sasuke Sarutobi #Sarutobi Sasuke #Ikesen Sasuke #mild abuse tw #sickness tw #vomit tw #fluff #modern au #ikesen modern au

[enbiesheartenbies]

A-Very-Long-Post-In-Which-I-Answer-Asks-That-Have-Been-Building-Up-In-My-Inbox-For-2-years

Yep! I’ll delete it but I won’t copy their information, it feels wrong to do so. 

@ultrawafflehouse @nb-allstar hey guys! look at this!!! 

Try not to worry about it! I’m in my teen years and I haven’t been kissed either. It will come, try not to rush it and don’t worry :)

Probably not, sorry. there are many accounts that are for that purpose though!

Each person has different experiences with being nonbinary. You’d best be going through the nonbinary tag or something similar and read about it. That’s how I found a lot of stuff out. Also, YouTubers like Ash Hardell have some really good videos on being nb and general LGBTQ+ stuff

There are a lot of nonbinary people that are okay with he/him pronouns and she/her pronouns. Questioning your gender can be a long and confusing journey. It’s okay to take your time. And for the csa part, I don’t know. I believe you’d need to research that yourself, from reliable sources of course and if you were comfortable with it.

@ahhthehorror i have no idea. i go between saying it like “gay” and bye with a g

Yay!! I’m so glad. This is why I made this blog, there are tons and tons of wlw and mlm blogs but so few xlx/nblnb blogs!

Same here! I didn’t realise it at the time but a lot of my dysphoria came from my hair. I remember coming home from finally getting the hair cut I wanted I just stood in front of the mirror in shock because I actually recognised myself. It was the weirdest and best feeling ever. I’m so glad you are feeling more comfortable with yourself!!

Is this me? Did i send an anon to myself? because this is the biggest mood. i do exactly what you described everytime i see someone attractive. 

You could be nonbinary who just doesn’t care if theyre called their agab (assigned gender at birth, basically when you were born the doctors looked between your legs and went “haha yes this is a *insert binary gender*”). Thing is I can tell you what you’re gender is, i can tell you what it might be but thats it. Its up to you to work it out and you have a whole community that will support you. Sure, its a bit confusing but honestly when isnt gender confusing af?

Sure! i cant remember if i have done this yet and ill probably forget again because my memory is shit but i will try my hardest not to forget!

this ask, this ask right here has been haunting me for 2 fucking years. i started getting the photos for this but then like 4 people didnt reply to me and i just gave up. i think im just gonna post it unfinished because this moodboard has been weighing me down for so long (most of that was a joke, but it has been a moodboard that been 2 years in the making and i do think about it at least once a month)

I apologise so much that it took me this long to finally answer your asks, i am really bad at it and rarely notice when i get a new ask. 

#tags #tw long post #images #tw csa #tw rape #tw swearing #asks #answer time #its finally clear #my post

[renegade-is-in-my-blood]

Hey.

Some time ago I posted article titled I – an artist  It was immediately met with greater success I could ever dreamed of. It’s my most read,liked and commented post ever. Many of you left sweet, encouraging comments underneath it and I’m so grateful for every single one of them.

Because of such support and demand of my artworks I’m very happy to announce I got back to creating art again. My biggest thank you goes to juliemellorpoetsite . as this happened:

!!!

I received the book and started working on it. I’m very grateful for this opportunity. Even thought she made it clear I don’t have to create anything I felt like it’s the right push for me to get to creating my thing again. So here is small sneak peek of what you might expect in the future on my blog:

As you all liked my art so much I’m here to bring it even closer to you that before.

Marilyn Monroe

I myself consider my Marilyn Monroe portray the best piece I ever made and it has great personal value to me as I’m about to explain it to you in this article.

As you know by now from my I – an artist  article I attended art school when I was a kid. One day we got assignment to recreate photography into much bigger form using square net. Point was to make it as realistic as possible, we had to be precise and pay attention to the details.

I got to choose from 2 womans photographs: Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe. In that time when I created my Marilyn I was just 13 years old and knew nothing much about neither of the ladies. Sure I knew their names and simple basic information but nothing else to choose by, but I was drawn to Marilyn more. I listened to my guts and you already know who I choose to draw.

I even took my final work home even though we usually left all of our artworks at school and I truly never been more proud of myself. Here is my Marilyn I drew when I was 13 (9 years ago)

For my final work at art school I simply copied this art I did before and inspired by Andy Warhol’s pop art color scheme I did my own mosaic of Marilyn Monroe. Sadly  – but not so much – I can’t show you photo of my final work as it’s displayed at my art school in my hometown.

But I decided to recreate the artwork and use it to decorate my new room in my family’s new built house. I still had the original picture so I copied it on the paper, bought some wavelets paper, glue and got to work.

I took me around two months to finish 2 pieces. It would be much quicker but this was the time I was suffering from my mental illness the most and I took the opportunity to create art as a small form of therapy. I took bunch of breaks and I considered it incredible success if I glued like 15 colorful pieces in a weak. Now it will forever remind me of my worst times and shows me the beauty that came out of it.

How I did it?

I copied the original on the baking form. Placed the baking form on clear paper and drew over existing lines with my pencil. It created imprint at new paper and I retraced those lines and the portrait was copied. Then i randomly cut colorful wavelets paper into small pieces, pour liquid glue on the paper, took small brush and glued each piece individually.

Originally I wanted to do 3 portraits and exchange the colors in each of them but then I settled just for 2 and placed original black and white work between them.

Here are some “in progress” photos (some with snapchat filters)

  And here are some detailed photos of my greatest artwork:

What started out as a simple school assignment turned out to have greater meaning to me. Since I already knew her face detailed as I drew her I slowly learned more info about her and grew to like and admire the woman. I noticed many similarities that made me relate to her. I’m sure as hell not comparing myself to most beautiful woman who ever walked the earth, but there are few things we have in common and many other I just admire about her:

Curves – Marilyn was not size 0 and neither am I. To see woman with curves viewed as a sex symbol is great boost for my and I bet many other woman self-esteem. There is still wild discussion going on whether Marilyn was or was not plus sized but the point remains the same – She knew how to wear her curves.  The confidence she had is something I greatly admire and aspire to have

Mental illness – It’s well-known fact that Marilyn suffered form mental illness. Depression, anxiety, self-doubt, low self-esteem, desperate need to be loved and admired.  Mental illness ran in her family. In the end she lost her battle as she reportedly committed suicide. (this topic is way too controversial and mysterious thought) I can surely relate to her in this one as I talked about my own experiences with mental illness in my article HERE  . To see such goddess experience mental illness and continue to work and be one of the most influential woman ever is very empowering for me.

Creativity – You can’t deny her artistic soul. It feels like artistic soul and mental illness goes hand in hand. It’s like the creativity and beauty is too much for your brain to handle so it gets sad. 

Menstrual pain – Marilyn suffered from huge menstrual pain, reportedly she once stopped her car and wince in pain at sidewalk. She took bunch of painkillers and this is something I can relate to as well. I suffered from unbearable menstrual pain since I was 14, I had strong cramps, I kept vomiting, fainting and crying in pain for 3 days a month. I couldn’t go to school or work properly as I couldn’t move because of the pain. I took hell lot of pills, but because of medical toleration I kept needing more and stronger ones. Blessings of a woman. Luckily when I was 18 my gynecologist prescribed me birth control pills to ease the pain.

Determination – Marilyn did everything it took to make her dream come true. All she wanted was to be actress and be loved. With 3 failed marriages and  shit ton of men claiming to bed her ( well of course if you had the chance you would claim you fucked Marilyn Monroe because who wouldn’t wanted to?) I’m not really sure if she was truly loved. Marilyn Monroe was loved but was Norma Jeane? There  is no denying in her being a call girl but that just proves her incredible determination to get what she wanted

Sex symbol – Considering the times when she lived and for a woman at that time being so open about her own sexuality is admirable. Even now woman talking about sex, liking sex and practising sex is still consider something shameful – we are not supposed to talk about it cuz it makes people uncomfortable. I feel like Marilyn brought grace into womans sexuality.

Style – No matter what she wore she looked incredibly. She knew how to wear clothes – important and many times neglected feature. There was confidence and sex appeal flashing out of her every move and every look.

I’m currently reading book about Marilyn’s life called Goddess: The Secret Lives of Marilyn Monroe by Anthony Summers and I’m just couple pages in but I’m loving it:

In conclusion:

I aspire to be like her and I enjoy drawing her very much.

I end this rant with my photo with Marilyn’s wax figurine in Prague’s wax museum from this article

Thank you so much for your attention

xo Natalia

Story behind my Marilyn Hey. Some time ago I posted article titled I – an artist  It was immediately met with greater success I could ever dreamed of.

#andy warhol #art #art blog #article #artist #artwork #beauty #drawing #inspiration #marilyn monroe #mosaic #personal #pop art #project #story

[rjlupxns]

TASK 003: MODERN & MUGGLE

FAMILY + BACKGROUND 

so clearly, your boy is not a werewolf here. like, you don’t know how badly i wanted to just say fuck it, who’s to say werewolves aren’t real in the modern world. mostly because i love werewolves. but! you’ll be happy to know i overcame the desire and remus didn’t grow up turning a little furry once a month 

still, growing up was a strained sort of thing. remus’ father worked for the government, and was always a prominent figure in advocating for prison reform. he brought about campaigns and votes that ended up changing the way the system was run in a lot of places, for a lot of instances, and as a result didn’t make a lot of friends in the more criminal part of the population. 

one of these not - friends was our buddy fenrir, who was just like, you know, your average violent criminal with a passion for vengeance. lyall’s petitioning didn’t do anything to change fenrir’s sentence, but it did make his last few years in the system a hell that he blamed mr. lupin for, and mr. lupin for alone. when he did get out, remus was five, and remus was the victim in a hit and run accident that literally everyone knew who to blame for it. 

fenrir was caught, eventually, but the accident had some irreparable consequences for remus. certain parts of both legs had shattered bones that never really healed right ( he was growing like a weed at five, was the thing. that plus the long healing process and the numerous procedures he had to undergo meant that his legs were just fucked for good. )

remus wasn’t happy about it, of course, because it meant that he never got to play around and just have the stupid fun other kids did. but he literally never knew any other existence --- the chronic pain and periodical need to use a cane were just part of life for him. but his father never let it go. he felt at fault for what happened to remus, but instead of taking that and using it to create a bond with his son and help him find a path to better recovery, he dove into his work even more. the two grew to have a really strained relationship, because even years after remus had accepted his condition as the way Life Was, his dad looked at him and saw his own failings. 

SCHOOL + OCCUPATION 

his dad could get fucked, though, because remus was mostly chill with life. did he hate the chronic pain and the assholes who asked insensitive comments about his cane and wonky way of walking? hell yeah, he did. but remus was always a very ‘it is what it is’ kind of guy, even in canon; a little on the cynical side of realism, but mostly at peace with it. he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t sad. he liked his life

physical therapy had been a part of his life since the accident; again, he was chill with it.  but at around age eleven his PT suggested he take up swimming and he took to it like a fish to water ... if you don’t mind the pun. the same insensitive assholes tended to question how someone who needed a cane to walk could swim as well as he did, but remus loved the peace of the water and the rare harmony it brought to his body. 

he did it all through school, and continued to do it during university. he’s currently still a student and is studying to become a paramedic. the degree is taking a little while because remus is a stubborn ass who insists on doing everything for himself. the nature of his relationship with his dad made him decide to do school all on his own --- so he splits his time between classes, and the pool, and his job at the research library on campus and his job at a local veterinary clinic. 

because!! remus loves animals. he’s a total animal rights activist; his twitter is a minefield of anti - peta posts and pictures of the animals he works with. he actually wanted to be a vet for the longest time, growing up, but he’s Tired. made it to university and realized he didn’t have the energy for veterinary school like he’d always planned, so ... paramedic. helping people is the next best thing to helping animals. 

his dad doesn’t think he should / can become a paramedic with his legs and chronic pain, to which remus ( again ) tells his dad to fuck off about. he knows it’ll be really hard on him, and that he’ll need to take more care of his body during and after shifts than his peers, but he really feels drawn to the career and knows he can do good if people just let him.  

PERSONAL + SOCIAL

remus was a small time viner. and by that i mean he was probably just like, chill, as he was with all things and quietly faded out of making vines like three months before vine ended. didn’t go on to really make any more internet content after, though since literally all of his social media is just a platform for pictures of animals people stuck around. 

given his sense of humor he’d probably have made stuff like drew gooden? and then just quietly moved back to posting dog photos on twitter with the occasional meme - captioned instagram selfie. he has a public snapchat, also mostly for posting animal videos too, but when he gets together with the marauders or goes to parties, he snaps the whole thing with bone dry commentary that just gets more lowkey scathing the drunker he gets. they’re hilarious, take my word. 

just to reiterate but remus Loves animals a whole lot okay and would probably be chill with going out because he broke for a bird and got rear ended into a tree. 

he’s the biggest stoner to ever stone. he does get a kick out of smoking recreationally, but he also uses it a lot to help with his chronic pain. it’s pretty half and half, to be honest. he’s down to have a good time at a party and can handle alcohol pretty well, but he doesn’t like getting crossed and would 10/10 prefer to smoke over drink when he’s just chilling. 

hates the idea of smoking cigarettes though, and is pretty adamant about it. 

he still, of course, considers the other marauders his best friends. they met at a party several years back but honestly he can’t remember when, because it was an instant sort of click. he’s still pretty sociable and generically likeable --- in canon that was a way to cope with the sort of fucked up way he grew up, and the same holds true here. he’s got a ton of different friend groups, from the people he swims with, to his coworkers at both the library and the vet hospital, to the others in the paramedic program. he likes people and likes that they like him in return, but would also love to just be around the marauders or animals. 

as much as he posts about animals and animal rights, he posts a lot about lifting the stigma about talking and dealing with chronic illnesses is. loves publicly ripping into people who comment about his cane or any obvious signs of pain. 

he has two cats and a dog and he would Die for them and expects those around him to do the same should the time call for it. 

#maraudrshq:tasks #(task.)

[soldierswar]

Melancholia- Chapter 5

AN: Hi everyone. Once again, I’d like to thank all of my amazing followers old and new. You guys are just the best and make my day all of the time. Thank you. <3 Also, I have to apologize so hard, I realized that one of my followers asked to be tagged in my posts and I totally missed it somehow? I’m so sorry, I’m trying to be better. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter? 

Masterlist:

           “Why is this necessary?” I huffed, slouching in the seat of the limo despite the fact that I was wearing and potentially wrinkling a 2000-dollar dress.  

           “Scarlette,” Alexander sighed.

           “After your father died unexpectedly, you disappeared for a year. You didn’t expect people to notice? This is your first appearance back into society, and this event is the perfect one. There will be cameras, and many people who have known your family for many years. So, stop rolling those eyes, and put on a pleasant smile before this car moves an inch.”

           I knew that he was right. I wasn’t a little 14-year old girl anymore, but now 17-year-old girl now with no parents. I was essentially an adult now and had to act like one. But I still hated these parties.

           Although, when I had signed up to essentially be a spy of sorts, living a double life wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

           As I tried to appear like my mood was picking up, that all went downhill when Emelia walked into the car. She wore a long, silk dress with a low neckline, making sure that her boobs were pushed out. I think that she had a great amount of satisfaction in knowing that she was the one between us with boobs, and I was one with a pretty unimpressive pair. Her competitive streak had literally come to this.

The tension in the car thickened within an instant of her walking in. There was no other form of communication other than quick death threatening stares between the two of us.

           She had been especially angry at me today because I kicked her ass again in training in front of a bunch of people. Getting her ass kicked multiple times in training sessions by the brand-new person who hadn’t even gone on her first mission yet had definitely put a huge dent in her incredibly large ego.

There was a moment where I was almost sure that she was going to kill me when she pulled a knife out and pressed it against my neck. Real weapons in our non-specialized training sessions were against the rules, so it was obvious that it was a very impulsive move on her part. Had the trainer not been there to yell at her to get off of me, I might have been a very injured Scarlette.

           “Seriously, girls. When are you guys going to start getting along?” Alexander protested after watching us mentally murder each other for 10 minutes.

           Emelia snorted, letting that be the last word in the car before arriving at our destination.

           As the car slowed down, and we had arrived at the party my hands started to sweat. This was my introduction back into society as a young woman, and I knew that the press was going to have a field day with taking my photo everywhere I went, analyzing everything I did. I was more nervous about this event than I was imagining my first assignment. I had already been told what to say when I was being questioned, so besides that, I just had to smile and act pretty.

           When I walked out of the car, it felt like a war zone. Cameras flashed nonstop in my face as tons of press members swarmed around me with question after question. It was all incredibly overwhelming. Somehow maintained my composure and answered questions with the story that I had been given to tell, and smiled for pictures as Alexander and Emelia walked into the party unbothered.

~Present day~

            Of course, I was busted. I had been somewhat of a public figure since I was born; it was so stupid of me to think that I could stay hidden away forever just because I wasn’t a Kardashian or something.

When Tony had turned the tablet to face me, it featured an article with the headline, ’17-Year-old Billionaire, Scarlette Dalton return from Neverland?’

It was a very old article with photos taken from my first event in Washington since I had come back from Russia when I was 17. An article with a pretty shitty title in my honest opinion.

It was my debut back into society after a year of being MIA after the death of my father. The story was that I went out of the country to travel, and have some peace and quiet for figure my life out. Unbeknownst to everyone else, I had been away being trained to be an assassin.

My demeanor had changed instantly, and I had to let the innocent stance go. For the first time since Stark showed up at my door, Lola was dead in an instant. I was Scarlette again.

“Alright, what do you want to know?” I sighed, slouching over the table.

The two men across from me looked at each other, raising an eyebrow in sync before turning back to me.

“Everything.”

…

My heart raced, my hands shook, and I was leaning over a trash can in the far corner, throwing up. This was especially fun since it had been over 24 hours since I had actually eaten anything.

I felt raw. Every part of my body hurt, and yet nobody had laid a finger on me. I had spent 3 hours being interrogated about my past. Even though I was talking nonstop about my own story for this amount of time, it felt as though I  had barely scratched the surface.

I had to talk about why I joined, when I joined, how many people I had killed, why I left, who I knew, who I was still in contact with. It was all so draining. So much of that stuff I wasn’t ready nor had talked to one single person about.

Every one of those subjects that I had to talk about, I could go on for days about if I had to go into detail. Which I had no intention of doing with Stark.

           Going back to those incredibly dark places that put me into the situation I was in now with someone who could have me locked up for the rest of my life was a completely different experience than talking to someone I was in love with who had been in similar situations.

           I knew that going back to those life-altering moments would be tough, but I had no clue that it would feel as though my insides were being ripped apart by guilt. The more I talked, the more pathetic I felt, and the more I hated myself. It really sunk in how horrible, ruthless, but naïve I was in those days.

           Now, the weight of every single thing that was said to me, and everything that I had to confess was weighing on me to the point of physical illness.

           I stood back up after almost 5 minutes of leaning over a trash can letting go of last week’s lunch, feeling even more humiliated that I already had before, and sat back down.

           After about 2 hours Rhodes had decided that he was no longer useful since Tony and I did most of the back and forth talk.

           “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Tony huffed.

           I sniffled, narrowing my eyes. That was not what I was expecting to hear from him.

           “What?”

           Tony rolled his eyes.

           “Rogers spilled the beans that you and Barnes were fucking. Are. You. Pregnant?”

           “No,” I responded quickly, allowing myself to sound annoyed.

           “Are you sure?” I continued on suspiciously.

            “Hydra made sure that would never happen so, I’m sure.”

           He nodded, tilting his head as if he were confused.

           “We’re going to get back to that, but I digress-”

           “So what’s next?” I interrupted.

           My voice was so shaken and defeated at this point.

           “For you?” Tony replied.

           “Yeah. For me. I just confessed a bunch of shit, and unlike someone else who is in your custody, I did it all voluntarily. So, yes! I want to know what the fuck is next. Prison? Execution?”

           He raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was my tone. I hadn’t realized that I had gotten pretty aggressive with how I spoke. But it was all coming out of pure fear and desperation.

           “Do you think that you’re just going to sit here for 3 hours and that’s it?” He inquired.  

           My body went numb. A million different possibilities went through my mind and none of them were good. What else did they want to do to me? I knew the idea of being interrogated for a few hours and just being let go was not part of the plan at all. But the way he said what he had just said push me even farther off the edge.

           “I think that you have key info, and stories that you’re not letting up on. And honestly…I think that we could use you. In fact, I think that we will use it. It’s official.”

           I paused for a moment, taking in the words that had just escaped his mouth. I processed what he said, and started laughing.

           I laughed in hysterics. It was the type of laughter that happens when you’re so incredibly devoid of emotion that you can’t even cry. The kind of laugh that doesn’t even come from your soul, because you’re pretty sure that it was ripped away from you. That type of laugh that makes you want to say, ‘Just fucking kill me already.’

           “Use me?”

He took in a deep breath, maintaining a serious face as he leaned forward on his elbows speaking in a very low tone.

“Dalton, do you think that we didn’t know that Hydra was rearing a couple of its ugly heads back?”

I blinked, still dumbfounded.

“What if I told you that we have a pretty significant number of people on this compound who are in the exact same position as you that are in. Ex-Hydra members who are helping us narrow down how Hydra works, and how to take them down when the time comes?”

I continued to stare at him as if he had just grown an extra two heads from his neck on command. This was absolutely insane. There was no way that the words that I had heard were the actual words that came out of his mouth.

“Ex-Hydra members?” I exhaled shakily.

“Yes,” he replied as if I had just asked him a stupid question.

I looked away, feeling as if I had just been punched in the lungs.

“No,” I mumbled, shaking my head like a mad woman.

“No?” He responded.

“No, I’m not playing this little game!” I spat.

“This isn’t happening. This is a bad idea. Shut it down. Now!”

What the hell were they thinking, acting as though it was a good idea to have supposedly ex-hydra members working with them? This was like Hydra members being within S.H.I.E.L.D all over again, except they were just being invited in like some Weekend at Bernie’s.

He leaned back, chuckling to himself.

“What’s so funny?” I continued shaking my head, looking him dead in the eye.

“Trust me. We keep a very close eye.” He replied, still not answering my question.

“Yeah, sure. Until someone finds a way to hide plans!” I exclaimed.

“No. There is no way I’m joining your little secret club. There is no fucking way.”

He shook his head. I knew that he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He didn’t like being around people who did that.

“Scarlette…” He sighed.

“After everything you’ve confessed to. Do you really think that you have much of a choice?”

I sat for a good two minutes not saying anything. Most of that time I was just focused on not bursting into tears, or vomiting all over the table.

“So you’re holding me as a prisoner here is what you’re saying.” I managed to choke out, holding back tears.

“I didn’t say that specifically.” He said, folding his hands together on the table.

“How you choose to interpret it is your choice.”

I took in a deep breath, telling myself that maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad. Not that I had much of a choice. I couldn’t go back home, whatever that meant. But perhaps giving myself the illusion that I had a choice was better than putting up a fight at this point. So, I chose to at least try to listen to what Tony had to say about it all.

“Okay.” I exhaled.

“What’s next?”

 Tagged: @a-heart-attack-ow @fantasticimpaladoctor @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @sexysamsungl @carryonmyswansong

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #winter solldier #winter soldier fanfic #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldierxoccharacter #winter soldier x original character #winter soldierxoc #melancholia #ineffable #fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction

[shananaomi]

2017.

Giving myself an hour on the clock to get through this, if at all possible. (ETA: Done!) 

Here’s 2016.

What did you do in 2017 that you'd never done before?

I have such a great answer to this that I’m still not ready to write about. Ask me in person and I might tell you. Also: went to yoga fairly regularly and found I both could and wanted to lay peacefully in one pose or another for 5 or 10 minutes at a time.

Did you keep your New Years' resolutions and will you make more for next year?

We did in fact #GetFitToFightFascism, or anyway on days when I didn’t know how else to treat the creeping anxiety I got up and hiked to the Observatory or somewhere else so ridiculously stunning that I felt slightly reassured we’d live another day. We were determined to see our BFF Jamie every Saturday night and except for weekends when one of us or the other was out of town or we had plans already for the weekend we had a near-perfect attendance record. And though I didn’t think I wrote that much, I got enough out in TinyLetter (now backposted at Medium) to add up to a decent Twitter thread last week. 

I always feel like next year should maybe be its own post, but for now I’m thinking about: Writing, always. Reading more. And finding a way to host maybe monthly dinners for small groups of our friends at home.

Did anyone close to you give birth?

My childhood best friend’s daughter was born on New Year’s Day 2017 and we finally got to meet her last week. She is able to reach for and drink from a glass of beer so I think she’ll be just fine.

What countries did you visit?

This was a year between big adventures out of the country, but we just booked a February getaway to Puerto Vallarta to celebrate the 10th anniversary of our first date. Went back and forth to New York a few times, plus a quickie up to SF for work.

What would you like to have in 2018 that you lacked in 2017?

Confidence the pendulum will in fact swing back from fascism.

What date from 2017 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

I guess the run from January 19 (Hamilton) to January 20 (bus trip from NYC to DC, with the worst possible welcome from post-Inaugural attendees) to January 21 (meeting up with so many old friends at the Women’s March). The rest is still vividly sharp but not so much tied to any specific date.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Surviving it with some semblance of hope. Making the move to a better, bigger place in Pasadena. Leading a loyal and devoted staff through a major corporate transition and many other hard challenges.

What was your biggest failure?

I have never done anything as hard as being a boss lady, and I’m still not sure most days I’ve left things at least better than I found them.

Did you suffer illness or injury?

For the first 9 months or so I got super sick every single goddamned month: a recurring case of America, I called it.  Overall I’ve been very lucky.

What was the best thing you bought?

The peace of mind that privilege allows when you need to pay your way out of a loud, anxiety-ridden neighborhood for the quieter (at least most days) and more serene outskirts of town. A weekly outlet and focus for my physical stress in the form of the most amazing personal trainer. A 40th birthday blowout weekend that included renting the most ridiculous house (as seen when CJ fell into the pool in The West Wing), hosting a dinner party and then pool party for so many of our friends and family.

Whose behavior merited celebration?

My wife’s, always. Because all I do these days is listen to Kesha, I’ve been thinking about these lines:

I know forever don’t exist But after this life, I’ll find you in the next So when I say “forever,” it’s the goddamned truth

Where did most of your money go?

The house and moving into it, the car, the trainer, the birthday celebrations.

What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Did I?

We discovered Two Bunch Palms, an old getaway near Palm Springs that soothed my soul in quiet calm ways I hadn’t realized could be so close at hand or that I needed so much. This year’s LA Pride parade became a protest and was the most joyous and community-filled day like that we’ve felt in a long, long time.

What song will always remind you of 2017?

This fairly goes to Kesha’s “Praying,” but since I already wrote a whole thing about that, I’ll say Julia Michaels’ “Don’t Wanna Think,” in part because I listened to it on repeat for so many hours in a row while flying back and forth from New York that it’s kind of embedded in my subconscious: I’m not really one for drinking songs, but — fuck it, here it comes. Heartbreak is annoying, and I’ll feel it in the morning. Swallow it down like a bitter pill. At least it will taste better than this feeling will. I don’t like myself when I’m just standing still.

Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder? Happier, though I’d say that’s grading on a goddamned curve for real.

ii. thinner or fatter? About the same, if trimmer and stronger in some places.

iii. richer or poorer? Close to a draw here, more or less.

What do you wish you'd done more of?

I was happiest when I was hiking, reading, sitting quietly on the couch with my wife and dog. I did a decent amount of all that but it was still to keep my head above water.

What do you wish you'd done less of?

Be on the goddamned internet. But I’m also aware that finding the right balance between awareness and mindfulness and rest and action is the most pervasive and elusive self-care challenge for literally everyone I know, so I’m trying hard not to give myself a hard time about it. And there’s probably something here to say about the betrayal and pain that came from incorrectly trusting people to be their best selves instead of being undeserving of the benefit of the doubt but I am working so fucking hard at leaving that behind in 2017.

How did you spend Christmas?

In Reno with my family and friends, bouncing between two houses full of other people’s people (and mine) and a lot of very rich and exotic meats and liquors. The last couple years have been really hard and not well-balanced or rejuvenating visits, and this year was much better if still not without its own drama.

What was your favorite TV program?

New: Star Trek: Discovery was almost everything I needed in a show this year. Also I loved The Arrangement and found it way smarter and more complicated and fucked up than I’d expected.

New to me: I was only a little late on Riverdale but found it very enjoyable.

Oldies but Goodies: Also I watched a lot of older Star Trek, from TOS to the early movies. Everyone keeps saying next week need to do DS9, so I guess that’s the kind of geek I am proudly now.

What friends did you make or meet this year for the first time?

All but one were not new but I really loved our all-girl get-togethers to watch hockey even when we barely paid attention to it.

What was the best book you read?

I didn’t make a real resolution about reading more but boy did I. It’s just so much better than being in the world or on the internet. The ones that really stand out are Queen of the Night by Alexander Chee (not from this year, but my fave read from it), John Green’s Turtles All the Way Down, and Amy Bloom’s White Houses, which comes out in a couple months. If we’re not already GoodReads friends come find me there—I’m terrible at writing reviews but I find it super helpful personally to know what y’all have read and liked?

What did you want and get?

A new house.

What did you want and not get?

A Japanese wooden soaking tub of my very own. (See below.)

What was your favorite film of this year?

We just saw Call Me By Your Name last night and now I can’t think of anything else. Though I’d say the sheer joy of Wonder Woman is still a solid contender.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I was 40, and I took 5 days to basically do only what I wanted, and it did the exact trick I’d hoped for: I just enjoyed it instead of ruthlessly evaluating what I haven’t done with my life.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? What political issue stirred you the most? Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

I am going to charitably say the answer to all three of these is both obvious and tiresome. Be better, 2018.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2017?

Lots of jumpsuits and DVF, all courtesy a Rent the Runway Unlimited subscription, which also falls under where all my money went but was a ton of fun and practical in many ways too.

What kept you sane?

Remembering how many amazing women are already in my life and know exactly what I mean even when I can barely say it out loud.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Ugh, this one feels too much like work and also like tempting fate.

Who did you miss?

For the first time in a while there were frankly some people who I miss greatly but was glad didn’t have to live through this shit themselves.

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2017.

Just because it could have been worse doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be better.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Here’s what I wrote about 3 songs that shaped my 2017. I don’t think I can do much better in one quote.

What’s one photo that sums up your year?

#2017 #yearly update

[letterstochristopher]

Letters to Chris. April 19th. Day 11.

Hey Buddy,

Dad got home this evening with all your stuff. It’s hard to explain the emotions as I walked down the driveway to the trailer. Fear. Anxiety. Heartache. But also I was so ready to see your things. Things you held. Things you hung up on your walls and wore and slept with. Things that were YOURS. I quickly found your cowboy hat we bought you in South Dakota that you are wearing in one of my favorite childhood photos. The one of you in the cul de sac pretending to be a cowboy, getting ready to draw your fake gun. That’s coming with me.

I never thought I’d find myself looking for a dirty shirt of yours to wear. Ever. But that’s exactly what I did tonight. I just need a shirt that smells like you. What’s weird is everything smells like Febreze. I learned how you had quite the love affair with it (Katrina told me story of how you ran to Walmart for some groceries, and came out with a steak, two packages of Oreos, regular for you and double-stuffed for her, and Febreze. That’s probably the most Chris thing I’ve ever heard. PS…who doesn’t like Double-stuffed Oreos??). I found a few shirts to cuddle with out of your hamper: a camouflage henley, a flannel American Eagle shirt I gave you for Christmas one year (I was so damn happy to see you were still wearing it. Did you think of me whenever you put it on?), your Army PT shirt and a random green tshirt that was on top. I put on the green one for bed and didn’t pay attention to what was on the front until I looked into the bathroom mirror. Big letters across the front say “IRELAND 01.” I’ve been telling Clay since April 9th I thought you would like some ashes released in Ireland, where you always wanted to go since your father was Irish. But I wasn’t 100% sure, so yesterday I asked you to let me know. I believe this is your answer. So I’m taking you to Ireland with me, Little Bro. Mom saw the shirt and she smiled-she had given it to you on your birthday when you were home last month. And apparently you’re wearing it in a pic a friend of yours posted on Facebook. You have a ton of clothes. I think it’s pretty neat that I was able to find the one I gave you and this Ireland one. Even if they do all smell like Febreze and not you.

I’m also cuddling with your firefighter blanket right now. It’s absolutely massive and, from what I hear, one of your favorites. I’ll be sleeping with it, your shirts, your ACU cap that still has your name velcroed on it (so grateful the National Guard allowed us to keep your caps), your stuffed toy puppy you’ve had since childhood and your Coca Cola jacket you wore for work. There’s so much more down there. Dad was able to bring home most of your stuff (just some furniture that couldn’t fit was donated to a local church). I wanted to bring up entire boxes of things to surround myself with in bed. But I know Mom would have a really hard time with that. Before Dad got home, we had the following conversation:

Mom: “Hey, Jenn. I know when your dad gets home, you’re going to want to go through all of Chris’ stuff and take things. But I need you to know that I’m going to need organization. I just will. I can’t just go through his things and not have any order.”

Me: “But I’m going to want to keep some things.”

Mom: “I know. And you will. But I’m just telling you because I know it’s going to be hard for you not to tear through stuff. There are things I need to do. I want to wash his clothes for him. You kids always washed your own clothes, but I never minded doing it. It’s always been a way for me to take care of you all. I want to be able to wash your brother’s clothes. It’ll make me feel like I’m taking care of him.”

And then she started sobbing again, and Nikea and I wrapped our arms around her. She just seems so tiny now. I’m trying to make sure she’s eating. Mom’s always been good about taking care of herself. But she has lost weight, and I worry about her. I know the toll this is all taking on me, and I’m younger. She’s lost so many people, been through so much in her life. She’s a survivor. I know this, but i also know how awful grief and cortisol is on the body. I just need her and Dad to be okay. And obviously Nikea. But Nikea’s always been so tough, has always been more stoic than me. She’s so strong, and doesn’t cry in front of people often; she just has more control. She’s always mostly been a mad crier (the only times she’d cry when we were little is when we’d piss her off). But I’ve seen it a few times since I’ve been home, once because of something I wrote in here about you not being at her wedding. She walked into the dining room where I was sitting and said how she hadn’t even thought about her wedding next year. She’s been so focused on how to get through each day it hadn’t dawned on her that you wouldn’t be there. That realization hit her hard. 

And Dad. He’s the most stoic of us all. But I could tell the last four days have especially worn him down. No father should have to pack up his son’s apartment for this reason. As I was poking through your things (don’t tell Mom), he came down to make his rum and diet. “I told your mother I don’t normally drink this late. But tonight felt like a good night to make an exception.” I was grateful to have the company. I missed his strong quiet presence. We talked about you, obviously. About his trip, and all the incredible people who offered to lend helping hands. Your landlord cleaned up your apartment, boxed most of your stuff up and had it all stacked neatly waiting for Dad. Dad said this saved him an entire day’s worth of work. Your landlord also cleaned so Dad wouldn’t have to see reminders of Saturday night. I’m not sure what all he did, but I do know he removed your couch like I said before. That thought still makes me sick (honestly, I’m so surprised I haven’t been physically ill; I’ve been nauseous and dizzy so many times). Then your old supervisor’s wife came to help Dad load up the truck. Did you know your old Coca Cola buddies had a get-together for you? Of course Dad came, and they all shared stories about you. Mom and I called in and Dad put us on speakerphone, and I tried to thank them for everything. I couldn’t get the words out. I hate how I can’t control it. I’ll have to ask Dad what they talked about.

In your stuff, we also found your Harry Potter poster. The Half-Blood Prince. I remember it hanging it your room when you lived at home. Hey remember when Dad would read you Harry Potter before bedtime? You actually discovered Harry Potter before me. I watched it at Mom’s house in Nebraska one night…taking a chance on a movie I’d never seen before in 2002. I instantly fell in love and told you about it. That’s when you informed me there were four books out, and you were reading them. I was so excited. I remember reading to you on the bottom bunk of your bed one night, and trying to do the English accents. I remember like it was yesterday. It was fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix, and it was the part with the boggart and Mrs. Weasley. Remember, when Harry walked in on her trying to get rid of it and it kept transforming into her family’s dead bodies because she was so terrified of losing her loved ones? That’s fucking ironic. But regardless, I love that memory. My attempts at the English accents were I’m sure awful. You didn’t say anything until I asked, but you admitted you preferred I read without them. I was so disappointed. And hey, do you remember when you told me Sirius Black died before I finished Order of the Phoenix? I was so so mad at you.

The one thing I can’t stand is your gun being here. THE gun. The police released everything to Dad…your phone, your wallet, the glock…everything sealed neatly in evidence bags. Dad said he didn’t want to make any hasty decisions so took everything they gave him. I wonder if the clothes you were wearing are here, too. I doubt they would have given Dad those, actually. For obvious reasons. (I got so scared while unloading your couch pillows. I was praying I wouldn’t see anything on them…but then I saw a big sticky stain. I looked closer-I just had to. But I think it was food. Thank Jesus). But the gun. I hate it. I fucking hate it. That gun killed my baby brother. It took you away from us forever. Dad said that it wasn’t the glock that did it. It was you. And while know he’s right, I still hate it. Maybe if you didn’t have guns you would have tried another way. But then maybe they would have gotten to you in time. Or maybe you would have suffered. I guess it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. You’re gone.

I talked to our real mom today (I always hate saying that-we have two real moms, but you know what I mean). She had left a message while I was sleeping, and she sounded so damn sad it scared me. I mean, I know she’s going to be sad. But now I’m so afraid for anyone who is battling depression, whether chronic or situational. She said she has been reading up on Reactive Attachment Disorder because of my first post, and I could just tell she was blaming herself. I called her back, and Mom and Nikea came into the room and we all talked on speakerphone. It was so good to speak with her. She was reminiscing about how you were such a sweet and sensitive little boy. I remember. And I know she, like me, wants nothing more than to go back, hold that little boy close and tell him everything will be okay. Back when you were CJ, wore your humongous glasses and loved to be read to every night. She has the biggest heart, and loves us all so much. I know you loved her, too. Guilt is a horrible thing, and you can beg someone to forgive themselves until you’re blue in the face, but ultimately it’s up to them. I just hope and pray she can realize that she, like you, is so worthy of love. That has always been our biggest struggle…yours, hers and mine. I also talked to Grandpa Ward and briefly to Jeanie. Grandpa was your biggest cheerleader. It was wonderful to hear his voice. I haven’t talked with him in so long. It’s crazy how time gets away from you, and before you realize it two years have passed since you spoke with someone. I promised him that would never happen again. If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s to value every second my loved ones spend on this earth. How easy is it for us to take each other’s presence for granted.  I am determined to make sure I have no more regrets when it comes to the people I love. I can’t go through this again.

On Saturday, Mom and Dad are driving up to Mexico to tell Bethany what happened. Even though she’s mentally handicapped, she understands the concept of death. Mom is scared she may hurt herself if she knows the whole story, so said she may just say you had cancer. I mean, you basically did. Mental illness eats away at you just like cancer, slowly killing you. So yeah. It works. I’m trying to decide if I can go with them, or if I should go to Sedalia and visit Grandma, Grandpa, Sue, Sayre and Sayre’s new baby. I haven’t seen Bethany since Christmas, but it’s going to be awful telling her our brother died. I don’t know what to do. I dread how she’s going to obsess over what happened. It’s been years, and she still brings up our dog, Toby, dying. I just know she’s going to keep signing “CJ died. CJ died. CJ died.” And I’ll tell her to stop, but she won’t. She just won’t understand that we won’t want to constantly talk about how you’re gone. I���ll just have to be patient, and understand she doesn’t want to hurt anyone by bringing it up nonstop. I just have such a low frustration tolerance right now.

I’m still angry with you. I don’t know when that’s going to go away. I know it’s a stage of grief, and I’m assuming it’s more pronounced in this kind of situation. I’ve been reading how suicide survivors experience an extreme number of difficult emotions trying to make sense of their loved one’s actions. The book I’m reading now is helping shed light on it. But there’s not a lot out there on this. It’s a difficult subject to talk about. Who wants to discuss suicide? But it HAS to be talked about. People always talk about breast cancer. They have fundraisers for it. What about what killed you and thousands upon thousands of others every year? Why doesn’t society talk more about that? What happens to the families after. What they feel. The devastation. The confusion and anger. The guilt. It’s eating me up inside. The unrelenting brutal heartache of knowing you were sitting at home thinking about things that tore you apart. The constant questioning. I keep telling myself you weren’t miserable all the time. You had moments of happiness. But it wasn’t enough.

Do you know what’s really cool, though? We’ve had several of your friends reach out. I just want to hug all of them. They loved you and miss you, and I don’t know if they realize how much they help with their sweet words about you. Man, you were loved. Did you know? But now I’m asking myself if you really loved ME. You didn’t talk to me about so many things. You would say you were struggling, but wouldn’t give me specifics. In every text that I said “I love you,” you didn’t repeat it. I just can’t stop wondering now. Did you love me? Did you?? I know I had forgotten your birthday…I was so focused on trying to solve what was going on with my health, all the while trying to find jobs and move out of our friends’ basement, that I literally have been battling my own fears and major depression this past year. I don’t forget birthdays. And yours AND Dad’s slipped my mind. That’s never happened before. But now I can’t forgive myself. I just can’t. I know that’s not why you did it. But I still hate myself for it. I’m so sorry, Chris. I just need to know that you love me and forgive me. Please.

Love you, Buddy. Now and always. I’m so sorry.

#suicide #grief #grief and loss #griefsupport #suicidesurvivors

[mariannemcclain-blog]

young hairy woman - Warning: These 9 Mistakes Will Destroy Your Atk Hairy Pussy Porn

I met him off Craigslist. I know what its like to work the hours that you do and how hard it can be for you to meet someone to connect with. I was bored and I needed entertainment. Im a down to earth guy whos just looking to meet new friends as well. Skimming through all the replies was tiring but I sent a reply to a few. I wasnt looking for anything in particular but I posted a personals ad looking for friends. " Hey, I found your email refreshing and genuine. I havent had much luck so I thought to myself, what the hell lets go for it. I hope you give me a chance, you wont regret it. His response was short but sweet. ding My inbox chimed as I received notification of a new email. Tell me something about you. Looking forward to hearing from ya! You seem like a cool guy. Maybe animal voiceovers would make my night a little better. I continued my sad night of browsing the internet hopelessly. By no means am I a prude but I wasnt looking for anything more than friends. I swear I wasnt a lame person but sometimes its nice to get a little attention. I wasnt going to think too deeply into it. Ive probably scanned over 50 some emails hoping there was someone who wasnt so forthcoming with their body parts or with their vulgar language. I sighed but resigned to clicking the notice anyways. - A" I felt a genuine vibe from the message so I responded back in a positive and upbeat manner. No expectations, no sexual acts, just simple or deep talks but clean fun. I just wanted someone to talk to. "Hey, I saw you post and I promise I read the whole thing and I can definitely say most of it is also true for myself. Mind if we switch to texting? Im trying something new and this kind of excites me and scares me at the same time. If you dont text me, Ill understand. "I didnt think youd respond knowing how many guys you had to filter through to get to mine. - W" I clicked send without another thought. It was the same guy from before. Id like to get to know you. - A" He seemed too good to be true so I did the most sensible think I could think of: I sent him a text message. He was literally the guy friend I was waiting for all my life. He asked me if it would be crazy if we were to meet up tonight. We texted back and forth about our intentions, our favourite food, the hottest models. There are tons of creeps out there and I could be one of them. I looked at the time 10:30pm. Right away, I told him I wasnt looking for anything sexual and he completely understood. I got ready not knowing where we would end up. Not even 15 minutes later, I received another email notification. I opted for something casual: black jeans with a button down green and red accented plaid shirt. I know its kinda crazy that Im giving out my number to a complete stranger but Im in the mood of " why the fuck not". He told he would pick me up in 45 minutes. It was late but I was in the mood of YOLO so I said yes and asked where to. Promptly at 11:15pm, I received a text notifying me that he was here. I didnt want to be judged for my methods of meeting people. I told my roommate I was headed out but didnt tell her with who. I wore black combat boots to match the outfit. I grabbed my coat at headed out. I started to panic a little bit. He took off down the street and we started a light conversation. I just thought it would be better this way. I stepped out of house and I saw his car idling patiently as I locked the door. Not something that screamed lesbian but enough that he knew I was only in it for fun. Spanish decent with short black hair, combed over one side. I hopped into his car with little hesitation. He was a short guy from the looks of it. He was in a leather jacket, well worn but seemingly of good quality. Even though he was a stranger I had just met off the internet not even 2 hours ago, I felt at ease with him. Dark shirt and pants followed for the rest of his outfit. Our conversation progressed fairly easily, moving from topic to topic. I got glimpses of him as we passed under street lamps. "Hey yourself", he replied with a smile. His face was shrouded in the darkness of the car and the night sky. Personally, I dont mind. He had soft features, plump lips, a strong jaw with no facial hair, his eyes were honey coloured, I found out later. Somehow along the way, he brought up sex related topics. He told me he missed a girl to shoot the shit with and be comfortable talking about anything with. He didnt seem like the other guys. I laughed knowing that most men who have seen me in low cut shirts thought the same. I joked that they wanted to come out and play too. I looked down and saw my one button popping open, that little shitty one that sits in between your ladies and always refuses to stay closed. strike one I waited for his response, tongue in cheek. "I couldn’t help but notice you have pretty big breasts", he said cheekily. Guys are interested in lesbian sex and all the fixings so I was willing to humour him for this evening. I saw out of the corner of my eye his eyes widened. We were completely honest with one another, or at least I was. I saw him glance at me a few times and I asked what was on his mind. I considered telling him off for a split second but instead I accepted his challenge. I could see him get fidgety in the drivers seat atk scary hairy pussy teens video as I continued. I slowly begun unbuttoning my shirt. ", he responded boldly. I dont think he was expecting such a strong response. I nodded and shot him a smile. Something about the thrill and adrenaline rush got me going. I didnt want to give off that vibe but it just came out. It was big and one breast fit in his palm so nicely. When I finished, my D breasts were exposed cupped securely in my Victoria Secret silky bra. My body felt the chill as soon as my nipple touched the cold air in his car. "I dare you to flash someone as we drive by. Naturally, it stood erect and soon he was rolling my hard nub between his thumb and forefinger. I found conversation easy and fun. He was getting more daring as he slipped a thumb under my bra and out popped by nipple as he raised the material. He took my left hand and placed it on his crotch area. Slowly, I rubbed him through the denim fabric. I could feel him struggling to keep his composure. God Damn, he whispered under his breath. We had been driving aimlessly around the city for the last hour and a half talking. His hand reached from its spot on the steering wheel to my bra clad chest. He caressed me with such gentleness and although this wasnt what I came here to find, I was enjoying his hands on me. I dont know what came over me but I let him. He turned into a neighbourhood and parked at a local baseball diamond that looked out onto the river. I held my jacket closed as my shirt was still unbuttoned. hot hairy ladies We jumped the wooden barrier from the parking lot to the grassy area. We got out of the car to stretch our legs and kind of cool things down a little bit. It was late fall and the leaves had fallen all about the cement lot. I could feel how hard he was in those tight pants. He was visibly getting distracted and I was loving it. I had to admit, the view was really nice, overlooking the river and the lights from downtown reflected in the water. It was dark in the park except for the city buildings across the water and the moonlight shining down on us. His arms were strong, broad shoulders, muscular. I commented on how I had never been to this area of town before. He brought his body close to mine. I had my back to him as he slipped his arms around my waist. I could feel him grinding his hard member into my ass while his hands wandered up my body. I let out a soft moan. He took the opportunity to place a kiss there. We stopped in the middle of the baseball diamond and stood in silence. This situation had me turned on. I then asked if this was where he brought girls at night to have his way with them. His breathing was getting heavy right in my ear. It wasnt really HIM that was doing it for me. I found that to be super fucking hot and I felt my wetness starting to spread. Should you loved this article and you wish to receive details regarding hot women hairy pussy assure visit the web-site. This prompted him to kiss me in a amateur atk hairy kingdom pussy photos more hungry manner. His hand found a way past the barrier of my jeans and was slowly descending towards my mound. strike two He laughed saying that this was where he comes http://www.collegian.psu.edu/users/profile/deannaeberly28 to clear his head. He inhaled sharply and groaned as he exhaled followed by the words, "Fuck, youre so wet. I felt his finger dip into the folds of my pussy, slick with arousal. " I reached back and undid his belt buckle and jeans in a swift motion. The combination of everything had my body in a sensory delight. I felt his hard cock through his silk boxers. It felt thick and very hard. I turned around to face him, cock still in hand. Not too big and just the right size. I exposed my neck as I tilted my head back resting on his shoulder. I was afraid the cold would cause him to lose his hardness but I was wrong. I began rubbing him on the outside of the material. I could feel a wet spot where his tip was leaking pre-cum. I needed to touch him, skin to skin. My body started moving on its own accord, grinding against his crotch in sync with his movements. He inserted two fingers into me and I gasped at the intrusion. He replaced his hand back into my pants, rubbing my clit with my own wetness. His moans were super sexy and his breathing was heavy. My breasts were being pinched and squeezed as we stood face to face, masturbating each other in the field. He began thrusting in my hand as I rocked my hips against his fingers. where do you want it", he said breathily. I exposed him to the night air as I pulled him out of his boxers. strike three He got the message. He took over jerking himself quickly towards an orgasm. I continued to stroke him more vigorously as he pounded his fingers in my wet hole. He looked down at me as I stared up at him with greedy eyes. I stood on one leg as he raised my other as he finger fucked me. Even in the darkness, you could see the lust in my eyes. His legs almost gave out as he emptied himself all over my chest. It was the same lust I was feeling between my legs. It felt so wrong but it felt so good all at the same time. In response, I knelt down, exposed my breasts, pushing them together for a porn star like view. He moaned such a sexy lustful moan and I felt it in my throbbing pussy. I rubbed the sticky mess all over my breasts, making sure to cover each erect nipple with his cum. I rubbed the tip of his cock in a circular motion on my palm and proceeded to stroke him with a pre-cum lubed hand. With that look, he exploded his creamy load all over my luscious tits. Without another word, I stood up and placed my bra back in place and closed up my shirt. I told him Id ride home with it all over myself. I threw an arm behind his neck and broad shoulders to keep a hold of my balance. He offered to find something in his car to clean up the mess but I politely declined. He dick jumped at my words but he decided to put it away for next time.

[tonictransistor]

Another Tom/Tora dream

#tora speaks #my dreams

[ratharee]

1-117 do it :')

Okay fine, I suppose I did ask for it 😜

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now?

How people can be so blind and ignorant. It confuses me.

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone?

Yes I do sometimes and it’s quite nice.

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care?

I’d prefer it, but he doesn’t.

4: Do you find it easy to trust others?

No.

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night?

Probably something with the reptiles or on here.

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you?

God lmfao

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on?

I called into work and managed to through my incoherent babbling tell them I couldn’t come in, screamed and threw shit, cried, lots of crying. Burned some of his stuff and threw other stuff off a cliff. I’m not going to type the rest because it went on for awhile and I’m not proud of the shit I did afterwards. Now I’d just move the fuck on.

8: Are you close with your dad?

I met my bio Dad when I was 14, it’s been weird. We are ok now but I wouldn’t say close. My Dad who isn’t biological my Dad, I am very close to. He’s the shit!

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right?

You win!!!

10: What are you listening to?

Schneider skinks digging around in the sand.

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it?

Gasp get ready for this….WATER!!!

12: Do you like hickeys?

Not where people can see them, but I like them.

13: What time do you go to bed?

Four am ish.

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down?

Yea that would be my Mother.

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both?

Naw bitch.

16: Do you always answer your texts?

No, no I do not.

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for?

No, I don’t.

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends?

Today.

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them?

Quite a few people actually :)

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?

Did I remember to turn off all the geckos UVBs?

21: Is anyone else in the room with you?

Human, no.

22: Do you believe what goes around comes around?

I do, that’s why some people don’t even have friends or people who like them or even a place to live because no one wants them around :3

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now?

Nope, the opposite.

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with?

A couple people I suppose.

25: In the past week, have you cried?

I have several mental illnesses, crying is just part of my life lmao.

26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing?

It’s black, like my soul.

27: Do people ever call you by your last name?

Like one person.

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now?

Not that I know of.

29: Do you have a best friend?

I have a couple.

30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed?

Yea, yea it would be.

31: Who was your last call/text message from?

My father.

32: Are you mad at anyone?

I’m always mad fam 😜😡

33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

I have.

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday?

He will be 26.

35: How many more days until your birthday?

277 days until I turn 24!

36: Do you have any summer plans yet?

I’m leasing a horse, hopefully vending at the Vic reptile expo, lots of beach time/hikes with my boys. So not a lot so far no.

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex?

I do have a few .

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now?

Not intentionally, if anything.

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone?

Yes?

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone?

I have, yes yes I have.

41: Do you think age matters in relationships?

If it’s legal, then who cares?

42: Are you available?

Noooo.

43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended?

Less than one handful.

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get?

All of them. Lol I have/have had so many, maybe some dermals?

45: Do you believe exes can be friends?

Yes, I’m friends with a few.

46: Do you regret anything?

Everyone regrets something, I regret yes but you can’t change shit so why dwell.

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now?

That new boa coming, I can’t stop thinking about him and all the gorgeous babies I’ll be producing soon.

48: Did you ever lose a best friend?

Yea I’ve lost a couple, some I’ve more just distanced myself for my own well being.

49: Was your last kiss a mistake?

No it was great.

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like?

I don’t have to, he’s snuggling me lol.

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry?

Uh yea.

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed?

Everyday.

53: What was the last thing you ate?

Green grapes motherfucker.

54: Did you get any compliments today?

I sure did 😊

55: Where are you going on your next vacation?

Well that probably won’t be for awhile but somewhere in South America or New Zealand. I’ll think about it more in depth when it becomes more likely to happen soon.

56: Do you own anything from other countries?

A White lipped python I imported from Indonesia, coins from around the world, bits and bobs from England

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls?

A mix of both.

58: Where have you lived most of your life?

BC

59: When was the last time you took a long drive?

My friend and I went for a decently long drive last night, and we got tea as well :)

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?

Yes yes I have.

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house?

No lmao, do people actually do that?

62: Who do you text the most?

Hmmm I don’t know, I message a fair amount of people on the daily. Probably Emily, Joel, Amelia, or Alyssa.

63: What was the last movie you saw?

Mechanic: Resurrection 64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex?

Oh boy, I could write a book on this 😂😂😂

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2011?

None that were significant lmao.

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you?

Older.

67: Do you curse around your parents?

I sure fucking do, but I try to tone it down.

68: Are you happy with where you live?

Yea it’s pretty decent for the price and the town I live in.

69: Picture of yourself?

Tomorrow I’ll post one, promise :) Like I have said before I don’t know how to attach a photo to these on mobile cause I’m dumb shit.

70: Are you a monogamous person or do you believe in open-ended relationships?

Monogamous.

71: Have you ever been dumped?

I have been dumped once, I didn’t like it very much.

72: What do you most like about making out?

All of it ? I like lip biting and teasing.

73: Have you ever casually made out with someone who you weren’t seriously involved with?

I’m a bit of a hoe so yes, a lot of people. Girls, guys. I like to have a good time and I didn’t give a fuck when I was younger.

74: When you kiss someone for the first time, is it usually you who initiates it or the other?

I think not, maybe 68% of the time.

75: What part of a person’s body do you find most attractive?

In a girl, I love curves…hips and soft thighs oh fuck me!!! In a guy I’d say chest and shoulders.

76: Who was the last person you talked to last night before you went to bed?

Joel.

77: Had sex with someone you knew less than an hour?

Shhhh noooooo , maybe, yes fuck D: Maybe it was a little over an hour, had to have been. I don’t know for this one for sure.

78: Had sex with someone you didn’t know their name?

Nope!

79: What makes your heart flutter and brings a big cheesy smile to your face?

Reptiles 😊

80: Would you get involved with someone if they had a child already?

Yes, I would. I did.

81: Has someone who had a crush on you ever confessed to you?

Only a lot. We call them Zanbies 😜

82: Do you tell a lot of people when you have a crush?

I hate the word crush, it’s irritating. I usually would tell a few people.

83: Do you miss your last sweetie?

😂 hehe sweetie? That’s cute. Sure sometimes maybe for a brief second.

84: Last time you slow danced with someone?

Last week, awkwardly in the living room.

85: Have you ever ‘dated’ someone you’ve never met?

Yes? I suppose when I was like 14.

86: How can I win your heart?

You can’t, I don’t know you 😜

87: What is your astrological sign?

Aquarius.

88: What were you doing last night at 12 AM?

Probably the same thing I was doing at 11pm.

89: Do you cook?

I can, I don’t do a ton of it if I can avoid it. I cook for Jasper.

90: Have you ever gotten back in touch with an old flame after a time of more than 3 months of no communication?

I have yes.

91: If you’re single right now, do you wish you were in a relationship?

I’m not though.

92: Do you prefer to date various people or do you pretty much fall into monogamous relationships quickly?

I prefer to do whatever it is that I feel like doing at the time.

93: What physical traits do you look for in a potential interest?

I don’t, if I like them I like them.

94: Name four things that you wish you had!

My own house.My own horse.My own storefront/shop.My own dog(s). Presa Canario and Great Dane.

95: Are you a player?

I don’t think so.

96: Have you ever kissed 2 people in one day?

I’ve kissed more than two people in one day.

97: Are you a tease?

I’ve been told I am. I don’t know maybe.

98: Ever meet anyone you met on Tumblr?

Not someone that I didn’t already know.

99: Have you ever been deeply in love with someone?

Yes I have.

100: Anybody on Tumblr that you’d go on a date with?

If I was single, a couple yes.

101: Hugs or Kisses?

Both!!

102: Are you too shy to ask someone out?

Nope!

103: The first thing you notice about the opposite sex?

Eyes!

104: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you babe?

I like it.

105: If a sexy person was pursuing you, but you knew he/she was in relationship, would you go for it?

Lololololololol

106: Do you flirt a lot?

Yea I think I do. I’m flirty, it’s part of my personality. I’m not even aware of it most of the time.

107: Your last kiss?

Was right after he blew his load in my mouth.You so needed to know that, right!?

108: Have you kissed more than 5 people since the start of 2012?

Yes, I have.

109: Have you kissed anyone in the past month?

Durrrrrrrr

110: If you could kiss anyone who would it be?

Jason Momoa!!!!

111: Do you know who you’ll kiss next?

My boyfriend.

112: Does someone like you currently?

Uh I’d like to think the man I’m dating lmao.

113: Do you currently have feelings for anyone?

Other than my boyfriend? Nope

114: Do you like to be in serious relationships or just flings?

I liked flings a lot. But serious relationships have a lot more benefits.115: Ever made out with just a friend?

Yes yes I have.

116: Are you happier single or in a relationship?

I wasn’t very happy when I was recently (before Jasper) single, but I was going through some fucked up insane shit. I wasn’t very happy in my relationship until recently either. I’m still not at times, but no ones relationship is perfect. My boyfriend can be a dick, but I also have a severe personality disorder and several other mental illnesses that affect our relationship. That’s why we go to counselling and work on learning the tools no one ever taught us, so we can actually have a healthy relationship. And oh god yea it’s been shit in the past, and I’ve vented on here because some of you actually are supportive and caring. And sometimes after a long day a few kind words make me feel a thousand times better. But!!! Most of the time now it’s good between us. We are working on bettering ourselves and supporting each other. I still go to bed alone and bawl my eyes out some nights, but I choose to do that. I push him away, that’s my fault. I’m happier than I was when I was single, but honestly every relationship has its issues and you have to keep working at it everyday.

117: Your own question that you want me to answer. Just write it.

Uhhhhhh ok, why do you follow me?