#scared of physical AND emotional intimacy even in your own dreams. sad!

[undyinglantern]

if I had a nickel for every time somebody in a dream asked if I was okay and reached out their hand toward me and then I woke up from the recoil/panic of them moving/stepping in closer to make sure…

#scared of physical AND emotional intimacy even in your own dreams. sad! #insert id have 2 nickels meme or whatever man it was literally the exact same situation but in completely different circumstances #because otherwise I would NOT have remembered abt the first time I dreamt this situation #seeing as it was A While Ago #personal

[echo-of-sounds]

being rejected

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would react to being rejected. 

This, uh, this hurt to write. I don’t want them in pain. They deserve love and appreciation.

Aizawa Shouta

Relationships aren’t a priority to Shouta. It takes a while for the emotions to register and for him to conclude if you’re worth his time. Then he needs to finalize his feelings about you. His hopes tell him you’ll reciprocate the attraction. The rare optimism inside his heart tells him you’ll accept, happy he finally asked you out. If those scarce feelings weren’t there to drive him, he wouldn’t spend as much time with you as he does. 

When his mind’s made up, he waits until you’re alone to invite you on a date. At your awkward decline, you’d never be able to detect his feelings or thoughts. The usual flat expression is somehow flatter. His face and voice appear empty. It’s grim, almost sad, mournful, hardly reacting to your answer, unable to vocalize the distress he’s in.

After a few stiff, silent seconds, he nods, bids you goodnight, and walks away. From then on out, your interactions with him don’t change much. He’s his normal lethargic, grumpy self. But you’ll notice he isn’t as talkative with you as he used to be. He’s no master conversationalist with anyone, but he made an effort with you. And now that effort’s disappeared. You were just another person in the room for him to ignore.

Shouta struggles and he hates it. He can’t really interpret the emotions. Any delicate desires, any romantic thoughts that pop up, get shoved down on instinct. This time, he didn’t do that. He let them rise. Being romantically involved with someone finally excited him. You could have understood all his heart and all his troubles. And he would’ve allowed you. He wanted to let you in. The fears and loves that flood your chest when you lay yourself bare, granting someone else access to your past and future, he wanted to experience with you.

Yet, only a couple of words crumbled all those desires. He got sentimental about them before it even happened, allowing juvenile dreams to influence him. Your rejection made him remember that his life would not end up like that. Being a Hero was risky. Being a teacher was time-consuming. A partner just didn’t fit in and now he admitted it. 

Afterward, any romantic thoughts that rose, regardless of how strong, were completely ignored. His troubles and nightmares and deep desires were his own. Intimacy ran risks of them getting hurt- risks he didn’t want to take again. He wouldn’t be able to handle someone seeing them, then damaging them. Shouta was by himself. He must accept it.

Yagi Toshinori

Out of everyone, Toshinori waits the longest to ask anyone out. The idea of someone truly being interested in him is a distant dream. Regardless of that distance, your smile and aura are radiant. Your conversations and interests softy enchant him, invoking images of a happy future together. It reignites that nearly dead flame inside. 

Eventually he’ll conclude to ask you on a date. He gifts you a single flower, then wonders if you’d join in for dinner. Your gentle turndown guts him. He desperately wants to hide his grief. But you can see his eyebrows turn and light fade from his eyes. Whatever joy that held his shoulders steady, abandoned him as the flame died. Before you can say anything else, he acknowledges your answer, politely excuses himself, and leaves you alone with the flower.

Your friendship is still important to him. He tries his hardest not to let the blunder hinder that because he values you and wants to stay friends. However, it’ll be impossible for you to not notice how he doesn’t approach you when you enter the room like he used to, smiling, willing to talk about anything. Or how he avoids your eyes when you pass each other in the hall. Or how he drifts from you, tiny little bit by tiny little bit. It’s slow, gradually detaching from your friendship until one day you look back and realize you haven’t spoken in months. 

No matter how wounded and alone Toshi feels, he doesn’t blame you. If anything, he agrees that no one would want to be with a sick, injured, powerless man. And the incident turns him off of relationships for a while, if not forever. He’d rather be ill and lonely than ill, lonely, and hurt… 

Because Toshinori is incredibly hurt and confused and terrified. He knew it would turn out this way. He tried to find happiness. The hope for intimacy and the craving for something more led him astray. It was childish to think you would be any different. He knew it would be this way, yet he still tried. He still hoped. He still dreamed of romance, a happy future, a chance to love, a chance to be loved, a chance to feel safe and cherished. But he won’t be. Those feelings and dreams aren’t for him. And now he understands that, so he’s left alone and scared.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s been in relationships. Sometimes they work out, sometimes they end in heartbreak, and sometimes they don’t even start. Different people have caught his eye. Depending on his life at the time and how special they were, he’d decide if they were worth it. Once you came along, something about your energy and laughter sparked his interest. He wanted you.

He’d invite you to a concert or bar. The way he worded it made it seem like a friendly get-together. Then you show up and the general feel is warmly intimate, not some social gathering. Your quiet discomfort tells Hizashi you weren’t there for a romantic time. To salvage the evening, he relaxes the atmosphere for a fun night out. At the end of the night, he apologizes for the mix-up and expresses how he hopes your friendship will last after his screw-up. His jovial personality makes it easy to move past.

Hizashi doesn’t take it to heart at first. Infatuations, crushes, and relationships come and go. But as the weeks go on and he remains just a friend, little pangs begin to nag his chest. There was something special about you. He wanted to understand everything about you, physically, emotionally, romantically, and intimately. He wanted to be the man you turned to when you’re scared and happy and excited and disappointed. But now he knows that’s not his place. Your heart is searching for another and he accepts that. Your friendship is enough because he couldn’t stand completely losing you. 

Those twinges never fully disappear. Hizashi cares and cries and experiences with all his heart, something so few can do. Every lover he’s ever had remains in his thoughts, feelings, and soul. When the time comes where you find the one, hugging and kissing them with your profoundly stunning smile, those pangs he thought he conquered long ago return. They aren’t as sundering as they used to be. Yet, the instant he’s alone in the bathroom, his eyes are watering and his legs are shaking, remembering just how deeply and wholly he cared for you.

Gang Orca

Kugo is incredibly hesitant to start a relationship. It’s new territory. When you happen along, he’s simply drawn towards you, wanting to spend plenty of time by your side. Romantic feelings brew, creeping higher into his heart. Once a stable friendship is built, he starts helping you with your daily tasks, trying to suss out if you reciprocate the feelings. 

After the eternity it takes for him to decide, he asks you on a date one quiet night while you’re hanging out. It’s surprising by how out of left field it is. You don’t have to respond. Your frozen face is enough. Damn near everything in him sinks. His heart’s so rarely been exposed. It’s the rawest part of him and all it took was your expression to break it. To save himself the clawing bitterness, he apologizes for ruining your night, asks if you could forgive his oversight, and leaves.

As much as it hurts him too, he respects your decision. It doesn’t change how beautiful you are and how endearing your voice is and how cute your outfits are and how welcoming and inviting your- He must stop thinking like that. It’ll only make the rejection worse. 

It’ll take a while for your friendship to return to normal. Kugo spends a bit of time alone, stressing and berating himself. Is it his appearance? His job? Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt you? Insult you? Annoy you? He wants to be angry that he’s sensitive. He almost wants to hate it, hate you. Maybe it’ll be easier that way. But he can’t. You don’t deserve it. You did nothing wrong. 

And even though this experience was painful, the desire for love and intimacy and family and appreciation and a true, deep connection with someone keeps Kugo’s heart yearning, hoping. He just wants love. What about him isn’t worthy of it? Why won’t someone love him?

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #bnha headcanons

[beneaththetangles]

Kyojuro Rengoku’s Victory

Kyojuro Rengoku, the flame hashira, is first introduced during the latter episodes of the Demon Slayer TV series. With wide eyes and a resolute style of talking, he comes across as simple-minded, and so is an unexpected selection to be at the center of the first movie in the franchise. More unexpected, still, is that as Demon Slayer -Kimetsu no Yaiba- The Movie: Mugen Train demonstrates, there’s much depth to Kyojuro, and his strength is surpassed by only his heart, making him, in fact, the perfect character to headline a film that provides plenty of andrenaline-pumping scenes, but an even weightier sense of spirit and love, as Kyojuro’s convictions and action help redefine and refocus our ideas of what victory looks like and what it can be (spoilers ahead).

Those unfamiliar with the manga may be startled by the scenes late in the film. By this point, the primary action seems complete; Kyojuro has, aided by Tanjirou, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko, defeated the lower kizuki, Enmu, while also accomplishing his goal of saving all 200 passengers and crew aboard the train. However, the sudden appearance of an upper kizuki—the number three one in fact, Akaza—puts the heroes and survivors again in a perilous place. Although Kyojuro’s skills match and maybe surpass Akaza’s, he doesn’t have the demon’s distinct advantage of healing from wounds in an instant. After taking a more serious approach, Akaza wounds Kyojuro mortally. However, even with failing strength, Kyojuro traps Akaza by the kizuki’s very own fist lodged inside the hashira’s body while he attempts to slice off the demon’s head. Akaza, for his part, is less fearful of the slow cutting than of the rapidly rising sun, which could quickly disintegrate him. He is eventually able to extricate himself from the situation and run for cover in the nearby forest.

An angry Tanjirou, who’d been laying to the side hobbled from injuries, throws his blade at Akaza, which lodges into his body, and yells after him:

The Demon Slayer Corps are flesh-and-blood humans! Our wounds don’t close quickly! Lost limbs don’t grow back! And yet you’ll only fight us in the dark of night when you have the advantage….coward! You’re afraid to admit you haven’t won today! Rengoku hasn’t lost! Rengoku is stronger—much stronger than you! He didn’t let anyone die! He saw the fight through to the end! He protected the rest of us! This is your defeat! And the victory belongs to Rengoku!

Through tears and rage, Tanjirou declares Kyojuro the victor. But it seems a shallow sentiment, for after all, Azaka runs away to live another day while he wounds Kyojuro in such a way that the flame hashira will die. There are no cheers or celebration at the end of this fight—only tears and frustration. Even Inosuke, who holds such pride in being tough, sobs uncontrollably. He, along with Tanjirou and Zenitsu, had become intimately connected to Kyojuro in their short time together. In fact, near the beginning of their trip after Kyojuro quickly and emphatically dispatches with two minor demons, all three ask to become his disciples, and he welcomes them as such.

Now, the discipleship is over as soon as it started, before Kyojuro even learned his disciple’s names. He gives a few final pieces of advice, makes his last requests, and passes away.

Tanjirou seems to have made an assessment that clearly isn’t right, the blind call of a soul too pure to see reality. The movie even seems to indicate this idea that Tanjirou is too wholesome and possibly too good for us to really relate to: When Enmu puts the heroes to sleep and uses young people to drift into their dreams with a mission is to destroy the demon slayers’ cores, ultimately killing them, the one who goes into Tanjirou’s dreams is profoundly affected by how beautiful his subconscious is, and is transformed by the clarity of Tanjirou’s soul. The inspiring and optimistic Tanjirou would of course be the one to put such a noble spin on Kyojuro’s death.

If anything, it’s the strangest character, the boar-masked Inosuke, that’s maybe most relatable among the three disciples. He’s full of flaws and prone to emotional outbursts. When one of the Mugen employees stabs Tanjirou, resulting in a wound that very nearly causes his death, Inosuke desires vengeance, wanting to let the man die when the train derails and traps him, though the kind-hearted Tanjirou begs Inosuke to help him instead. The demon slayer is incredulous, and more than once says that they should let the perpetrator die. How very like us—or at least like me, in how I speaks words of anger and hate against those that wound me, whether directly, indirectly, of even in some imagined way.

The disciple Inosuke reminds me of the disciple Peter, the hot-headed apostle who was a Zealot and revolutionary, capable of profound faith and also one who would dare to chide his master—an action which happened because, as Jesus stated, Peter didn’t have the Father’s thoughts in mind, but rather the world’s. Likewise, Inosuke wasn’t thinking of his master’s will; Kyojuro wanted to save everyone aboard, even those who aided Enmu.

And as Peter didn’t realize that Christ would eventually need to be crucified, to allow himself to be executed by a people that were filled by the devil’s spirit, sometimes literally, Inosuke doesn’t see the truth that Tanjirou does and expresses in his call to Azaka: There’s something more here than what can be immediately seen. There is a plan, and the evil that occurs in the meantime does not alter it. Kyojuro desires that all 200 people on board the Mugen be saved. That is his mission, as it was Christ’s mission to offer salvation to a people who had no other way to attain it, even if it meant that he would have to bear an unjust and tortuous death to provide it to us. Jesus went to the cross because his destruction would be followed by life, for him and for any who believe. There was more to the plan than Peter and the other disciples could see in that moment.

There was more, too, than Inosuke could see. In fact, Tanjirou could not see the future either, all that would come out of that awful day (spoilers ahead for the rest of the series). The movie hints at a brighter future by the short scenes that depict the other hashira as they mourn or otherwise consider Kyojuro’s death, and with Ubuyashiki, who at the beginning of the film is downcast as he walks through a cemetery of fallen demon slayers but at the finale, after hearing of the flame hashira’s death, says he is not sad.

How could the “father” to the hashira and all demon slayers not be crushed by Kyojuro’s death?

In a most unexpected way—one that I believe Ubuyashiki could see—Kyojuro’s death provides hope. The entire scenario showed Ubuyashiki something, namely that Muzan is scared. He sends Akaza, having become aggressive and possibly incautious, particularly in light of recently interacting with Tanjirou. Meanwhile, the hashira are further inflamed at their colleague’s demise—a respect for and in some cases, intimacy with Kyojuro gives them even more drive not only to continue their work, but to destroy the kizuki and Muzan once and for all. They will give their lives as necessary—many, in fact, will—and without hesitation if it helps them accomplish that ultimate goal. And in doing so, they will follow a model. They will follow Kyojuro.

Peter, who foolishly talked down to Christ and then later ran away after making bold proclamations that he would stand by him, would one day lead the church and be executed for his faith. So, too, would many of the other disciples. They would be strengthened by the Holy Spirit and seeing Christ himself after the resurrection, a 180 degree turn from hiding in a room in the days following the crucifixion.

I wonder, too, about the other side. I wonder how the devil felt that day in Jerusalem. Was he full of pride and joy at Christ’s death? Or did he feel desperate, like Muzan? Did he begin to run like Akaza, knowing that his end could be near? Regardless, the truth for both Akaza and Satan is the same—victory was secured on that day of death, but not for the demons, not for those that survived the day’s assult.

The one who died was the victor, and the ending was already sealed.

This is your defeat! And the victory belongs to Rengoku!

For you see, victory was not determined that day—in either anime or in life—by the results of a physical altercation, but by another way altogether. After all, Kyojuro could have killed Akaza. He is powerful, a better and much smarter fighter than Akaza, and had he been willing to do whatever was needed to defeat his opponent, including sacrificing Tanjirou and others, it would have given him the edge he needed. He was, after all, mere seconds away from killing the demon, this despite his injuries, this despite saving everybody.

But his wish, as is Christ’s, is that everyone be saved. Kyojuro chose love. Christ chose love.

Death may seem like the end, it may seem like defeat, but it is not—for love conquers all, even death.

This is comfort to the believer. In a world so full evil, in such disarray—unrest at home, massacres abroad, and death and hatred everywhere—there is victory, if we have eyes to see it. Even in “defeat,” there is hope. Christ’s life, death, and resurrection is that hope for us, that which we can remember and depend on. Victory is neither out of our grasps nor something to only look forward to. It has happened. It is here.

And like Tanjirou, we can yell at the enemy, encourage our comrades, and uphold our own hearts, as we scream into the night and the demon that dwells there: “This is your defeat! And the victory belongs to Christ!“

=====

Demon Slayer -Kimetsu no Yaiba- The Movie: Mugen Train is distributed by Funimation. The Demon Slayer manga can be read through the Viz. All images are courtesy of Funimation.

#Anime #Christianity #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba #Kyojurou Rengoku #Gekijouban Kimetsu no Yaiba: Mugen Ressha hen #Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba the Movie: Mugen Train #Jesus Christ #God #Peter #Articles #Author: TWWK

[summerstardust]

please continue second best if you didn’t plan on doing so already!! id love to see an ending to it!! it was so nice and i wasn’t really expecting that twist! much love!!

A/N: Thank you, to this lovely anon! I’m so happy that you enjoyed Second Best. I hope that you enjoy this story! Much love!!!

Number One Priority

Ganger!Doctor x Reader

Summary:  After the events that occurred on St. John’s Base, the reader falls into a deep depression. The Doctor comes to terms with how much he ignored your needs, in the time before these events, and tries to form one last ditch effort to do right by you. Sequel to Second Best.

Warnings: mentions of character death and depression

Word Count: 2051

The Doctor fiddled with his new sonic screwdriver, the TARDIS having made him a new one after his previous sonic was destroyed with St. John’s Base and the Gangers within. There were a few new changes made to it, which he couldn’t quite figure out, but he assumed that it was because of the psychic link made to it by his Ganger. The thought of him was more upsetting to The Doctor than he imagined. The link between the two of them was strong, considering that The Doctor willingly created his Ganger, offering him all of his memories. He was fully prepared for his Ganger to be different than him in thought processes. He had seen many clones in his long life, none of them were ever completely identical to the person who was cloned. He did not expect his Ganger to  get close to you, however. He should have guessed, but he admitted that he was stuck in his ways. The Doctor assumed that because Amy was the first face his current regeneration saw, his Ganger would feel the same way about her, but naturally his Ganger would have their own personal favorite person. You were his Ganger’s first face. 

The Doctor could sense how sad you were at the Ganger!Doctor’s death, even before the signs were evident. He knew that he hadn’t been the kindest to you. He offered you the universe, a room, a home away from your life on Earth, but possessing practically anything at the snap of your fingers doesn’t make a person happy. People needed people. That’s why The Doctor sought out companions, that’s why Rory always fought for Amy, and that’s why you and The Ganger!Doctor were drawn to each other. The Doctor knew you needed someone, and he hated a part of himself for not caring for your emotional needs earlier, but he knew that he had the opportunity to correct some of his emotional neglect and bring back the person who cared for you as much as you cared for him.

Many adventures past and you still hadn’t left your room, or if you had, you asked the TARDIS to keep you away from The Doctor and whatever companions might be on board at the current moment. You didn’t see a point in interacting with them and you were fearful that if you left your room for longer than a food run, The Doctor would ask you to leave his ship. You wanted to remain in the TARDIS, you didn’t have anything to go back to on Earth, but you could not even obtain enough energy to take a shower most days. You knew that there was no way you could keep up with The Doctor’s boyish antics, but you did not want to give up your opportunity to see the universe.

After your shower one day, you sat in your towel in front of your closet. You were not thinking about what to wear. You were thinking about whether or not you should leave the TARDIS of your own free will before The Doctor could kick you out.

A knock at your door drew you from your thoughts. You knew that it was the Timelord, so you took a deep breath before allowing The Doctor to enter your room. He bashfully looked away from your body, and you apologised for your lack of clothing. He said that you were fine and asked if he could sit on your bed. You nodded in response. The Doctor stared at your wall before speaking softly, but unable to look at you.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologise for my poor treatment of you.” You interrupted him, saying that everything was fine, but he wouldn’t allow you to speak that way. “It’s not okay, Y/N. I played favorites with my companions and I shouldn’t. I offered you and Amy and Rory and River the opportunity to see everything, anything you could want in the universe. I said that I would show you that. Well. I’ve shown you many things, but not the most important.” You asked what he was referring to, but he wouldn’t elaborate.

“I really enjoyed and am thankful for the opportunity to see the universe, Doctor.”

“I know, that’s why I need to introduce you to one last adventure.” You became so fearful when he said this, turning toward him and reaching out to him.

“I don’t have a home outside the TARDIS, Doctor. I have nothing to go back to.” The Doctor faced you, confronted by the fear in his eyes. He knew that he could brighten your life by what he had planned, but it broke his hearts to see you so scared. 

“One last adventure, Y/N. There are more adventures available if you ever want to take up the offer, but, for the moment, this adventure takes precedence.” The Doctor hates endings, you could not wrap your head around how he was so cheerful at the thought of you leaving, causing you to wonder if he ever liked you at all.

“Doctor, I don’t want an adventure, if it means that I have to leave.”

“Oh, Y/N, I am positive that you will prize this adventure above any you had ever been on with me.” He stood up and brushed off his pants, “Now, get dressed! Today is an important day!” 

You dressed slowly after he left, unprepared and anxious about what The Doctor was preparing, but you pushed forward and silently walked to the console room. The Doctor was bubbly and bouncing around the console. He was even humming a blissful tune. The TARDIS landed, and instead of bounding outside as usual, he made a quick call on the phone attached to the console. 

“Is everything ready?” He spoke quietly, as if he was hiding something. You couldn’t hear that response, but by The Doctor’s excited reaction, the response was positive.

“Excellent, we will be out momentarily!” The Doctor hung up the phone and turned to you, gesturing toward the door. You were solemn, but you moved to the door. You breathed in deeply before opening the TARDIS door.

When you exited the TARDIS you saw a grassy meadow, the breeze moving the blazes waves of green. There was a blue house, large enough for a decent sized family, cozily nestled next to a dense forest. You turned to The Doctor to ask what all of this was about, but he only pointed at the door of the house you heard creaked open. You looked to where the Timelord was pointing, you face dropping when you saw who stood in the doorway. You couldn’t help but turn back hopefully to The Doctor, who nodded reassuringly that this was not a dream. You ran to the Ganger!Doctor, who met you halfway, before wrapping his arms tightly around your torso in a breathtaking hug.

“How-how did you survive?” You ghosted your hands over his face in disbelief. You eventually settled on placing your hands on his shoulders, comforted by the fact that he truly was real and this wasn’t a dream.

“Well, technically I didn’t, but I did, but I also didn’t. You understand, right?” You questioned if his rambling explanation revolved around the molecular memory of Gangers. “Yes! That’s it! New body, same mind! I knew I liked you for a reason, always so observant!” The two of you laughed in unison at his boyish excitement. You stared at him for a moment, scared that he might disappear if you were to look away. You reached up to straighten his bowtie, unaware of the Ganger!Doctor’s loving smile he gave because of your act of intimacy. You quickly jumped back to look at his face.

“Wait! What should I call you?” The Ganger!Doctor smiled curiously.

“What do you mean? I’m the Doct-” 

“I know, but it's a bit,” You turned away from the Ganger, looking toward The Doctor leaning against his TARDIS. “Awkward calling both of you by the same name.”

“What about John Smith?” The Doctor quickly piped up behind you.

“Smith, John Smith …  John Smith …  John Smith! I like it!” The Ganger!Doctor, or rather John Smith, said the name in a different tone each time he said it.

“Yeah, I thought you might!” The Doctor mumbled behind you, turning to his side, to play with the TARDIS door handle, to give the two of you a bit more privacy.

You quieted your tone, in case The Doctor heard you, “I’m so happy to see you again, but why are you here and what is this place?”

“If you want it, Y/N. It will be our home.” He looked so hopefully toward you.

“Our home? Why would you want to be with me, there are so many better people.” You brushed off the possibility of being happy with him, you didn’t think that you were good enough to be with someone as kind as him.

“Stop that, Y/N. I told you before that you are my number one priority.” He raised a pointed finger toward you to show the seriousness of his point.

“Really?” You couldn't really believe what you were hearing, just as you didn’t believe him when he first said it.

“Cross my hearts.” Again to add credence to his point, The Ganger!Doctor used his hands to physically cross his hearts. You felt like you were going to cry out of happiness and finally feeling accepted by someone, so you hugged The Ganger!Doctor, hiding your face into his shoulder. The Doctor hesitantly stepped toward the two of you before speaking.

“I’ll leave the two of you to fix things up and plan and be back in a mo.”

“Wait! You're not kicking me out!” You turned to face your friend, but continued to hug The Ganger.

“Of course not! Both of you are perfectly welcome to travel with me and see the universe, if you so wish, but everyone needs a home base.” You looked into the eyes of the Ganger!Doctor who looked so happy and hopeful to have a life with you and you would be lying if you didn’t feel the same way. You said that you would really like to live that life, causing The Ganger!Doctor’s smile to grow. Even the Doctor smiled at the happy moment.

“Now go explore your new home and life, Y/N. I will be back soon to see if the pair of you want to travel.” You ran to hug The Doctor before he could enter his TARDIS, and you thanked him for doing this for you.

“Of course, Y/N. You deserve love and happiness, just like everyone else. It is an honor to have helped you on your journey to your very own fairytale ending.” You hugged him again before he shoved you off toward the home and The Ganger!Doctor, whose hand you clasped happily as he led you into your new home.

The Doctor looked onto his TARDIS monitor, calibrated to show him what was going on outside. Just before he was about to zip off on an adventure to buy your budding romance time, The Doctor saw, through an open window, his Gangerbrush his thumb against your cheek before he leant in and placed a delicate but strong kiss to your lips. You bashfully looked away after the kiss ended, smiling brighter than The Doctor had ever seen you smile before. He saw your pure joy that was emitted whenever you caught the Ganger!Doctor’s stares, how red your face became when you blushed after kissing him back, how tight the two of you held each other when you would hug, as if the both of you were afraid of losing the other. He knew that the two of you were meant to be. It saddened him that he could not be perfect for you and that he wasn’t there for you when he should have been, but he knew that you were in good hands and that you, inturn, would teach his Ganger much. And of course, you were just a phone call away. But what mattered now was your happiness and future with the person you loved and loved you passionately in return.

#doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #doctor who #ganger!doctor #ganger!doctor x reader #ganger!doctor imagine #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #fanfiction #personal post #anon

[claire-de-macarune]

Get ready kids because somebody called for all the Hayley Kiyoko asks

sleepover: have you ever liked a friend as more than a friend? did you tell them? if it was in the past, do you wish that you told them?

Ugghhhh yea. I’ve told some and not others. The current one is rough because she’s straight (?) and we talked about her boy problems and i just wanted her to be happy, so i worked some fairy gaymother magic and now they’re dating which is… yeah.

I just kinda sucked it up and made a playlist into which i deposit all my sad gay pining. It’s about three hours long and Sleepover is the first track.

curious: do you drink? what’s your favourite drink? what drink isn’t your thing?

I am a connoisseur of fine juices. ;)

I’m a big smoothie girl, so a mango smoothie bubble tea is probably my fave. I like sodas or bitter things, for the most part. I’m a wine mom type and definitely think that it will be my alcohol go-to once I’m of age,

girls like girls: what’s your sexuality? how did you discover it? or have you just always known?

I’m a lesbean. :)

My first crush was Daphne from Scooby-Doo (i’ve given you that information, now use it wisely. by which i mean, don’t use it. please god.), so that was a landmark. I kind of always subconsciously know, but growing up I didn’t actually know what being LGBT+ was because my parents never made a big deal about it. We have straight friends, we have gay friends, so I wasn’t aware that sexuality and discourse around it was even a thing until I was around twelve. 

feelings: how do you think others perceive you? how do you perceive yourself? 

People find me intimidating because I’m confident, intentional, verbose, and organized. That’s how I like it.

I alternate between between our class emotional support animal and class cryptid, and it’s the most fun thing ever. I am both mom and monster muahahaha

gravel to tempo: have you come out to anyone? if yes, who was the first person you told? if no, do you want to? who would you tell first?

I don’t actually remember first coming out to anyone in particular. There was one time when my group of friends (3 other girls) and i were having a sleepover and they were all like, “we’re bi” and i was like “what’s that” and they were like “we like girls too” and i was like “cool. i mean, personally i think boys suck and look like potatoes carved by a toddler and when i entertain the notion of kissing or marrying one i would literally rather eat sandpaper for the rest of my life, but cool” and they were like “how are you so comfortable with this? a lesbian GOD!” and i just went with it.

(for the record, it wasn’t a trendy thing and they were really scared and all felt really gross about it bc their religious families taught them that being gay was wrong and didn’t talk about bisexuality at all so i went out and did some research and came back and assured them that everything they were feelign was valid and okay and we were really safe spaces for each other in that shitty middle school time when everything is just awful. nothing but love and respect for my first priestesses and bi babes!)

pretty girl: who was the most recent crush you had? do you still like them? did you tell them/do you want to tell them?

(see sleepover. this song is also on the playlist.)

what i need: who are your favourite gay artists? what are your favourite gay songs?

Well, Hayley Kiyoko (obviously), Janelle Monae, and King Princess are the big ones. I’m always open to hearing more! Honorable mentions to “Know Your Name” by Mary Lambert, “Crimson and Clover” by Joan Jett, and the soundtrack of Fun Home (even though it’s got some problematic things with predatory gays) because I cry every time I listen to it, especially on “Changing My Major”, “Days and Days and Days”, and fuckin “Telephone Wire” (“Come to the Fun Home” is a whole bop. Only gay in that I, a certified gay, enjoy it.)

ease my mind: what makes you feel at peace? what is your perfect future like? what do you do at the end of a long day to unwind?

Reading, writing (in theory lol), drawing, and singing relax me (dance too, but I’m not allowed to do it anymore cuz I’m broken). I also recently started teaching myself the guitar.

I don’t really have a set perfect future, but honestly, I’d take one in which we avoid nuclear winter, world war III, and climate change. The more I think about growing up, the more skeptical I become about whether I’ll actually get to do it and that’s insanely scary.

let it be: who was your worst heartbreak? have you ever been in love? do you even believe in love?

TW: suicide

One of my best friends (⅓ of my nervous bi darlings) ended her life almost two years ago. So that fuckin’ messed me up.

I don’t know. Usually, I’d say I think I’m kind of young to really even know how, but that’s not quite true. I guess I’ll say that I have loved but I haven’t yet been in love. Theoretically speaking, there’s so much of my life ahead of me that the probability of having that experience so early, especially with a limited romantic pool (being a queer poc in the south), is low.

And I’ve just recently fallen in love with myself, thus heightening my standards. I’ve been awful about getting into relationships in the past because i was afraid of saying no and hurting that person’s feelings, but lately i value my own happiness above the appeasement of others to my detriment. I just feel like I’m still learning and getting comfortable in that space, and the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself yet. But i think that it’s possible, someday. I’m a hopeful hopeless romantic.

cliff’s edge: what’s on your bucket list? where would like to travel? what makes your heart race?

I want to try everything at least once. I want to learn how to be the truest, most fully-realized version of myself I can. I don’t have a set list of life, I just hope it will be some kind of spectacular.

I want to see the world. Everywhere. But beyond that, I want to be a part of it. I want to be a true global citizen, experience a life past myself every day. I dream of having the freedom to continuously explore and grow in hopes of doing some good, internally or externally, along the way.

he’ll never love you: were you ever in denial about your sexuality? were you ever in denial of a crush? do you like to talk about your crushes to your friends?

Not denial, per se, I just didn’t know what was going on. It was a pretty straightforward, comfortable call once I had the information I needed.

I’m able to employ logic in most situations and strip myself of an unwanted crush using that, but most i’m aware of and suffer in silence.

Yesss. I’m bad at making those kinds of decisions by myself and having people who genuinely care ask me questions or even just talk to me about it helps me process. Often, this results in being teased about said crush, but I don’t mind.

wanna be missed: how dependent or independent are you in a relationship? do you like a lot of space, or a lot of intimacy? how do you feel about electronic (vs face to face) communication?

Ummm, I kinda tend to lead, just because that’s what I’m accustomed to. It’s a role I fill because everyone else avoids it in the other arenas of my life, so I’ve mostly been independent and directing in my relationships. This last one actually threw me for a loop because the dynamic was flipped; they were so sweet and thoughtful and proactive in romancing me i didn’t really know what to do with myself. I’ve gotten over the initial shock (now, what, 5? 6 months later?) and found that I liked that too.

I like a healthy balance of distance and closeness. Fun fact: my love languages are quality time and physical touch, so when i’m with someone i pretty much just want to cuddle with them all the time. I don’t know, it really depends on the person and the relationship and whatever is going on with me individually.

I’m cool with digital communication, but i’m also a granny when it comes to technology so I can have a little trouble with more nuanced text/social media culture. Also, my phone is always on silent (not even vibrate, because i’m wacky like that) so if you want an immediate answer, face-to-face is better. Also the physical touch thing, also that way i can read expressions better.

Bonus: i can also hold your hand and kiss your cute face!

under the blue/take me in: are you happy where you are right now? if you could change one thing about your life, what would it be? what’s your favourite aspect of yourself?

I mean, I’d rather not be in constant debilitating pain, I (apparently) have some tangling with anxiety i need to do, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. I’m a lot better than I have been, and I’m grateful for that. I don’t know if true happiness is a consistent, determinable state, but I take what I can get.

I don’t think there’s one big thing I would change. It’s more like a handful of small things. But if I had to choose, I’d fix whatever is wrong with my spine/neck/whatever. I feel like I’m on the cusp of my life finally beginning and I’m trapped by something as trivial as my body. It’s exhausting and I really need it to be over. It feels selfish, but I could do the most good for myself and others if I could put this behind me.

Favorite aspect of myself? That’s like asking me to pick a favorite book! Or child! Impossible: that’s a trick question. Sure, she’s a batshit, messy bitch, but I love myself. She and I are in it for the long run. ;)

palace: who is your favourite memory? what’s your favourite story with/about them? why don’t you two speak anymore?

The first girl I ever loved is mostly a memory now. It’s hard to pick a favorite story about her, but our first kiss story is pretty soft and gay, kind of like something out of a fairytale or a tropey fic, so I guess I’ll say that.

We had just finished seventh grade. 

Some background: That April, we went to D.C. for our annual class trip. There were ten of us and only four girls, so we all shared a hotel room (and they were roommates!) We split the beds (we’d all known each other for seven years, it was just like sharing with a sister) and stayed up super late, intermittently playing truth or dare and talking about life. She and I philosophized into the early morning (there was only one bed!!), she told me she liked me, and I fell asleep before I could do anything about it. Apparently, we ended up cuddling, because when I woke up, i was warm because she’d wrapped around me (and drooled down my collarbone, but whatever).

Okay, so, every spring, after graduation, our school had a picnic at the park down by a shallow length of the river where the kids would swim after lunch. We hadn’t done anything about our feelings yet, and I was leaving for another school. She took me around the bend in the river and we swam into the basin there. She wasn’t as strong a swimmer as I was, so she put her arms around my neck, and I held us both up in water deeper than both of us were tall. She said she was going to miss me, and then she kissed me. For a while.

Then, we saw a snake and frantically flailed to shore, laughing until our lungs hurt.

We don’t talk anymore because she became mentally unstable soon after that, and it wasn’t safe for either of us to continue interacting. I’ve seen her a few times since, but I don’t anticipate that we’ll ever be that close again, and that’s okay.

mercy/gatekeeper: what was a difficult time in your life? what did you do/what are you doing to get through it? who has been the most helpful?

&

molecules: have you ever lost anyone close to you? if yes, how did it feel at the time and how does it feel now to talk about them? do you fear death?

TW: suicide

One of my childhood best friends killed herself in the first month of our freshman year. It was totally out of the blue, and the timing was absolutely horrible. I was just getting everything I wanted, I was having the time of my life and then everything just stopped in its tracks. Except it didn’t. The world kept turning and she was gone and I had lab reports due and she was gone and there were play rehearsal and holidays and deadlines and life incessantly barreling forward and she was gone. I woke every morning with a pit in my stomach, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t eat. It was like something had been cut open inside me and life was just pouring out behind me but I couldn’t feel any of it. And no one else around me seemed to care. Every day I felt like I was dying. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, and everyone else had a smile on their face and laughed like it was nothing and complained about stubbing toes and bad grades and fighting with their parents.

I don’t really know how I got through it. I mean, I went to therapy, but it didn’t really help. I couldn’t talk to people about it, even when I wanted to. I couldn’t cry for the longest time. I wrote about it some. I left her voicemails. I raged through glass recycling. I guess I just trudged on, dragged myself onward because stopping wasn’t an option. Because if I did, even for a moment, I wouldn’t have enough strength to start again.

I’m better now, I guess. I can talk about it and her and I feel mostly human most days, but it’s still a presence in my life I wish I could escape. I still don’t know where they buried her.

I do not fear death.

one bad night: do you like casual or serious relationships? have you ever done anything illegal, wrong, or stupid for the sake of love?

Hoo boy, I’m bad at casual relationships. I get too attached (*feelings plays in the background*), and it becomes serious. Oddly enough, it doesn’t really scare people away. The older I get the further I’ll probably get from playful dalliances, but every once in a while, as the stakes are low, I’m down for just having fun and enjoying someone’s company.

palm dreams: do you like parties or quiet nights in? would you want to/did you stay in your hometown after moving out? what’s your ideal saturday night like?

I am an introverted smol, and big parties make me nervous. I can handle and even enjoy the odd bash here and there, but too many too often wears me out. Smaller groups are better, but my favorite size is a book or maybe one other human.

Nooooooo, man, I am going to college out of state, far away, and I am not moving back here. I love my city dearly, but I need to find my own corner of the sky. :)

I love a night at the theatre, preceded by a quiet dinner with a couple close friends and followed by something sweet, some tea, and reading a good book with my feline.

#answer #s #wow #that took a minute #here #have my life story and emotions #@cremlim #thank you thank you #this was fun #i may or may not have cried #in other news #i love hayley kiyoko #don't mind my inconsistent Capitalization

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Harder Path

Because if there’s one thing he’s sure of in this life, it’s that they weren’t built for taking the easy way.

Hardy & Miller, rated M.  Smut.  Response to this prompt from this list.

(Starts off steamy!)

AO3

“What are we doing?” Folding his right arm behind his head Hardy watched as Ellie redressed in a hurry, content to stay propped against his headboard.

Sitting on the bed to put her socks and shoes on, she glanced over her shoulder.  “I’m getting dressed so we can get back to work.  I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, other than being a perv.”

“I meant…” he waved his hand vaguely over the bed, sitting up.  “First you show up at two a.m. and shag my brains out, then suddenly we’re spending our lunch breaks in my bed.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” ��Concerned eyes watched her check her reflection in the mirror. “I just… don’t understand.  I figured we’d talk about it at some point, but it’s been a month and you haven’t said anything.  What is this?”

Ellie shook her head, scoffing as she crossed to where he sat.  “Figures you’d be the girl about it.  It’s sex, okay?  Can that just… be enough?”  Bending down she kissed him, sucking on his lower lip and making his brain short-circuit.

“El-”

“Please?”

He sighed heavily, giving in.  He still needed answers, but it was clear he wouldn’t be getting any today.  “D’you know where my pants went?”

“This is incredibly inappropriate,” he mumbled against her lips, even as he pressed her harder into the door.  The basement supply closet was hardly what he’d consider to be a romantic rendezvous spot, but when Ellie dragged him there in the middle of a nightshift and started undoing his trousers, he wasn’t going to complain.  Much.

Ellie nipped at his adam’s apple, slipping her hand into his pants and fisting him.  “Dear God you bitch a lot for a bloke getting shagged on the regular.”

“I like my job,” he grunted, undoing her trousers, “and I like doing it with you.”

“Just fuck me,” she said, “before someone notices we’re missing.”

That was an unlikely scenario, though hurrying still seemed like a good idea – but he was reluctant to make it too quick.  “Yeah, yeah.”  His fingers wormed their way into her knickers, finding her already dripping. “Shit, the hell you been doing at your desk, Miller?”

She pushed her trousers down to her knees, kicking one foot free and setting it on an overturned bucket next to them.  “Stop talking.”

Hardy shook his head, digging a condom out of his back pocket before lowering his own trousers enough. The last time he’d had sex on the clock, at the nick, Tess had been pregnant with Daisy and insatiable.  Ellie’s nimble hands snatched it from him, rolling it on and tugging him closer.

Her eyes slipped shut as he pushed inside, and he paused once seated to stare at her face.  In truth, he wasn’t the type of man for casual sex.  He wanted a connection, love.  And he loved Ellie, that he’d been certain of for years now. The question was, did she love him? Was she just scared, after Joe? He wouldn’t blame her for that, but he needed to know.

He needed more.

“Al-ec,” she whined, and against his better judgement he gave in, slowly starting to move his hips.

If it weren’t so damned satisfying, he would’ve put a stop to it long ago.

He woke to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open, and checking the clock, he sighed.  She was like clockwork, but this time, he was determined to get some answers out of her first.

“You can turn the light on.”

“I’d rather not,” she whispered, the rustle of fabric as she stripped, and his conviction wavered.

Setting his jaw he turned on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

“What’d you do that for?” Ellie asked crossly, sitting on the bed by his feet.

Hardy took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  “We need to talk.”

“I don’t-”

“No,” he held his hand up, “stop.  I need to talk, and you need to listen.”

She scowled but nodded, crossing her legs in front of her and waiting expectantly.

“Right-”  He had honestly not expected to get this far, and floundered for a moment.  “Okay. We’ve been sleeping together for a while now.  And, it’s brilliant, no question.  But… what are we doing?  What is this?  And before you go saying all the things you’ve been saying… It’s just you and me here.  Please, I need you to be honest.”

Ellie’s expression softened, and she dropped her eye to stare at the duvet.  “Why does it matter?”

“Because I love you.” He hadn’t intended to say it, but once it was out there hanging between them he couldn’t bring himself to regret it even as her head snapped up, eyes widening in fear.

“What the fuck?  Hardy!”

“I love you,” he repeated, reaching for her hand, “and I can’t keep… doing this.  It’s all right, if you don’t love me back, but honestly I’m not even sure if you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you!”  She had the audacity to look offended, brow furrowing.  “How can you say that?  You’re the only person in the world I trust!”

“Well, it doesn’t feel like it.”  Hardy took a deep breath to get his rising temper under control.  “I have no idea what you’re thinking or feeling, Ellie. In all the years we’ve worked together, I’ve never felt more out of sync that I have in the last six months. Whatever’s going on… It can’t continue. Not as it is.”

Her lower lip wobbled, eyes filling with tears.  “You’re ending it?  Seriously?”

“That’s up to you.” He cupped her cheek, thumb wiping away a stray tear.  “As I said, I love you.  I’m in love with you.  You’re breaking my heart, El.”

After a moment she knocked his hand away, wiping her own tears.  “Fine.  I’ll see you Monday.”

And then she was gone as quickly as she’d arrived, only she took all of the heat with her.  Hardy sat in his bed watching the door for a long time, before finally turning out the light to try and sleep.

When he finally passed out, it was to dream of how she’d treated him during the start of Joe’s trial, so many years before.

A week passed, then two, and he was fairly certain the only reason no one asked him about the distance between himself and Miller was the dark glare he gave anyone who came within five feet of him.

Friday finally came, and he had the whole weekend off.  Shutting down his computer, he sighed as he walked past Ellie’s desk.  She’d taken to coming in even earlier now, leaving a solid hour before his normal time.  Having nothing better to do with Daisy in London at uni and his only friend resolutely ignoring him, he was racking up as much overtime as Jenkinson allowed just to keep himself busy.

Walking out onto the sidewalk, his shoulders slumped as he tried to think of something to do.  The chief had caught him the previous week trying to sneak casefiles home, and reamed him out for trying to work off the clock and skewing their numbers.

Glancing towards the right, he spotted a lone figure in the distance sitting on the seawall.  He was tempted to ignore it, pretend he hadn’t seen her, but no one would believe that – one could probably see that hideous neon orange windbreaker from fucking Mars.

When he was ten feet away he deliberately scuffed his feet, making enough noise to try to alert her to his presence.

“Hi,” she sighed, and he frowned to see her shoulders hunched.  She looked as pathetic as he felt, and when he slumped down next to her he figured they made a sad pair.

“Hello.”

“Joe got married.”

“What?”

Ellie sniffled, nodding at his incredulous expression.  “I found out about two hours before I showed up at your door that first night.  The man murdered an eleven-year-old he was in love with, and yet he gets remarried and moves on while I live a miserable, lonely life as penance for his sins? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“There’s no need for you to do penance,” Hardy frowned, ignoring her comments about her ex-husband. He would forever be angry with the legal system which let him off, but refused to give the man another second of his time.  Ellie was his focus, and had been from the first moment of suspicion all those years ago.

“Isn’t that why you originally came to Broadchurch?” she smiled sardonically.  “As penance for Sandbrook?”

“Fair enough.”

They sat in silence, listening as the tide rolled in.  The moon was half-full and it was a cloudy night, with only just enough light to see her profile.

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“What you said, when- I… do too.”

His breath caught, heart leaping so wildly he wondered if his pacemaker would go off.  “What?”

“I just… I don’t know if I can handle that in the light of day again,” she said quietly, playing with her fingers.  “If I deserve that.  I keep thinking, ‘what will Beth say’?  I can’t lose her friendship again.  If she pulls away, we’ll never fix it.  She’s all I have, after you.  I can’t lose you both.”

Hardy sighed deeply, staring out to sea.  “She might surprise you.”

Ellie snorted, shaking her head.  “Nah.  And with you?  She might say she’s all right at first, but that little voice in the back of her head will start up.  She’ll remember the accusations during the trial, and she’ll wonder.  That fucking voice will ask if maybe I didn’t see the truth of Joe cause I was too busy fucking you.”

“She wouldn’t think that.”

“Wouldn’t she, though? I would.”

“Ellie…”

She took a shuddering breath.  “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to offer you… everything.  It is- can it be enough that I feel the same?”

Hardy looked up at the sky, studying the stars.  He wanted her, wanted to be with her, and had long since accepted a willingness to take what she would give.  Could he accept a physical relationship in lieu of an emotional one?  He’d considered the possibility of it being the other way around, and he’d been fine with that.  Sex was great, but he wanted emotional intimacy; he needed the emotional intimacy.

Did he need her more?

“I want- I need to hear you say it,” he said quietly.  “We can keep this in the dark if that’s what you want, keep it quiet, but… I need something real, Ellie.  I need a real relationship.  It can’t just be you showing up for a fuck in the middle of the night and leaving once you’re satisfied.”

“Oi, what’re you two weirdos up to?”

Hardy couldn’t help his groan as none other than Beth Latimer jogged up to them, panting.  “Hi, Beth.”

“Hey Hardy.”  She gave him a friendly enough smile before catching sight of Ellie’s face.  “El? What’s wrong?  What’d you do to her?”  Beth settled on the seawall on Ellie��s other side, leaning forward to scowl at him as she wrapped a protective arm around Ellie’s shoulders.

He hesitated only a moment before shrugging.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  “Beth, question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“You mean the world to her, and she’s rather concerned about your reaction, but I’d like to hear your honest thoughts.”

“Okay…”  Beth narrowed her eyes.  “What?”

“Alec!” Ellie hissed, but he ignored her.

“How would you feel if Ellie and I were together?  Romantically, I mean.”

After a moment, she began to laugh.  “Shit, is that all?  You had me worried!”

“What?”  Ellie blinked at her, head tilting.

“I figured that’s why he came back,” she tilted her head towards him.  “Especially once Daisy went to London.”

Ellie’s mouth dropped open, and even Hardy had to admit to some surprise at her cavalier attitude. “Seriously?  You don’t have an issue?”

Beth just shrugged her shoulders.  “You think if I had any reservations about him I’d let our daughters go off to live together in London for uni?  Just answer me one thing.”

“Anything.”  Hardy leaned forward, bracing himself for any possibility.

“Were you having an affair of any sort before Joe was acquitted?  A shag, a kiss, anything?”

He snorted.  “I offered her a hug right after he changed his plea and she basically told me to fuck off.  What do you think?”

After a moment Beth nodded. “Then, no.  I’m good.  Wait, Jesus, have you not been together all this time ‘cause you were worried about my opinion?!”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” Ellie protested weakly, earning herself a loud scoff.

“Now that, that is pathetic. Right, here’s what we’re going to do. It’s a Friday night, Fred will come stay with me and you two go shag each other silly.  Ellie, when you can pry yourself out of bed – not necessarily tomorrow – you’re going to come to mine, we’ll send the kids to yours with David, we’ll demolish a few bottles of wine and you’ll tell me every detail. Capise?”

“Uh… okay?”

“Great!  Just ring me when you’re headed over.  Have a great weekend.”  And she was off again, putting her headphones back in and running down the path.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Ellie fumed, whacking his leg.  “Wanker.”

“D’you want to tell me what your real objection is, then?” he asked shrewdly.  “Or did you think you could hide behind that forever?”

“How was I supposed to know you’d willingly talk to someone?  I don’t think that’s happened before.”

“Miller, it might behoove you to remember that I’m a detective too.  I know when I’m being lied to.”

She opened her mouth and promptly shut it, but he could see the thought as though it were lit in neon. All she said, however, was “How?”

“How what?”

Ellie turned to him, wide eyes heavy with tears as her lower lip trembled.  “How can you think I deserve happiness or… or love after Joe?”

Hardy’s heart ached at the soft question, but kept his expression bland.  “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You know what he did. You were the first to know.”

“Aye,” he agreed, inching his hand along the seawall towards hers, “but that was him.  Not you.”

“I was his wife.”

“And as I recall, not two minutes after you found out the truth you beat the ever-living shit out of him.”

“Costing us a conviction!”

“Well…”  That was true enough, though he grimaced at the thought. “It wasn’t your fault.  None of it.”

She sniffled.  “You’re too nice to me.”

Hardy laughed at that, loudly.  “Never heard you say that before.  Usually you complain I’m yellin’ at you.”  In truth, he liked it when she yelled.  He’d always had a thing for fiery women with short tempers, loved the passion she inspired in him when she went toe to toe, defending her point of view and not taking his shit.

He’d liked it even better over the last six months when it would lead to a quick and dirty shag wherever they could get a minute’s privacy.  (They never got a hotel room, though- and he loved her a little more for understanding why without needing to ask.)

“We believe in the same things,” Ellie said quietly, “even if we have different ideas of how to best go about making it happen.”  And, finally, she slipped her thumb over his, rubbing it gently.

Shifting to face her, he relaxed slightly to see the tears were gone, though slight shimmering paths down her cheeks were still present.  “I love you.  And I believe, genuinely, that we both deserve peace as an absolutely bare minimum. Our misery helps no one, and those who committed the crimes we pay penance for get to be happy while we suffer? Fuck that.”

“Okay.”

“Aye?”

Ellie turned to face him, meeting his eye and putting on a brave smile.  “Yes.”

All of the tension of the last six months bled out of him in an instant, heart soaring as it filled with the love he’d tried so desperately to hold back.  Leaning in to kiss her, his lips had barely brushed hers before she spoke one last time, a soft giggle and whisper.

“I love you too.”

#bbatcfic #Broadfic #Broadchurch #HardyxMiller #Hardy #Miller #The Harder Path #angst/fluff prompt list #prompted #Nonny #oohlala

[lilmajorshawty]

8th house your lesson part 1/2

8th house Aries cusp:

You were born with an aura of the independent pilot. The world itself seems to move slow and almost in a sense out of your orbit. You’re not at all a stranger to intensity or the idea of loss which can come as both a massive hurt to those around you but also an air of emotional absence in the times it matters most. Aries being the child of the zodiac translates to the realm of transformation and rebirth via personal immaturity which in itself means that you often travel down the road of trial and error longer than most and at times to your own detriment. Your lesson is to realize that as much as you’ve mastered self preservation you must also realize that the world is made up of plenty of main characters besides you and some of these characters love and care about you if you’d take your foot of the gas for a moment to see.

Who you share it with: Jay z, Madonna, Keanu Reeves, Walt Disney

Fictional characters like you:

Alfie Solomon & Arthur Shelby(peaky blinders)FX

Nora durst & meg(The Leftovers) HBO

Noah solloway(The affair)Showtime

☄️Arctic monkeys - if you were there

☄️The Kills - pull a u

8th house Taurus cusp:

You were born with a natural sense of stability. The world to you seems easy, people in your eyes throw a fit for nothing, for what reason is there to shout about your discomfort when you could simply create a comfortable situation? You always seek bliss and at times this can cause others to walk around you as if glass were laid about the floor as no one wants to be left in the dust after you deem them to much of a damper to your good mood. It’s easy for you to discontinue something that’s not providing in a sense which is both good and bad as sometimes those you let go are oblivious to the slow burn that’s been taking place underneath your unfazed exterior. Your lesson is to learn that others shouldn’t be casualties in your search for the sensuality and security you seek and security shouldn’t be your sole hold to this world! For what should happen where you to lose all you have?

Who you share it with: Leonardo DiCaprio, Beyoncé knowles, Britney Spears, Adolf hitler.

Fictional characters like you:

Clay Jenson(13 reasons why)Netflix

Wolfgang & Lito Rodriguez(sense8) Netflix

Sydney Barrett(legion) FX

🍃Arctic monkeys - 505

🍃jack white - would you fight for my love

8th house Gemini cusp:

You were born naturally in a pair of two on a emotional level. Parts of you are presented to a situation as is whilst there are often entire personalities inside you bustling around like the streets of New York. Due to your back and forth and often immensely “screened” nature it’s hard for people to truly meet you, which is often further intensified by the way this energy manifest in true Gemini like fashion which is all around like a cyclone never directly landing on target. In emotional times it’s easier for you to hop into one of your varying personas rather than outright dealing with it thus causing venom to build up until it becomes its on separate persona. Your lesson is to realize that the more you try to hide in a crowd inside yourself the less you’ll be able to successfully bring out the real you; let go of the fear you have of confronting the real hurts in you.

Who you share it with: Nicole Kidman, Katy Perry, Bjork, Tom Cruise

Fictional characters like you:

Dexter Morgan( dexter) USA

Rosita & Eugene(The walking dead) AMC

Sansa Stark(game of thrones) HBO

🌴Daughter - dreams of William

🌴Daughter - no care

8th house cancer cusp:

You were born naturally with the ability to embody sincerity and the moon itself. Love and intimacy come easy to you but that same internal forethought is lost externally. It can be hard for you to express your more sensitive and emotive side to those whom you’re untrusting, doubly so to those you actually care for. With cancer here there is a tendency to get carried away with ones emotions often drowned in whatever sea of emotion they happen to be feeling be it anger, sadness, hate, love, and even nothingness is felt with a deep rooted intensity. Your lack of a healthy medium can at times make those around you feel like they’re being given a silent but overwhelming ultimatum. Your lesson is to learn to dial back the lever. Not everything needs to be a black or white end or be all sensation! Try and find a healthy calm before the storm.

Who you share it with: brad Pitt, Scarlett Johansson, Bruce lee, Kim Kardashian

Fictional characters like you:

Jon snow & arya Stark(game of thrones) HBO

Barry brown & pope(animal kingdom)USA

Mr-robot, Angela moss & Darlene Alderson(Mr. robot)USA

🌑jack white - Love is blindness

🌑ane burn all my tears

8th house Leo cusp:

You were born with a inner flame that serves as a driving force between much of what you do. Your ego is both endearing and something to admire out of how through sheer will and individual reliance you push through much of your turmoil. The issue here lies in the spectacle you make of your own misfortune as some inner part of you needs to be recognized for your sorrow, your pain. The innate desire you have to be recognized at times devours the actuality of what you’re going through, it removes the depth that’s been bestowed upon you. Your lesson is to learn to navigate away from public recognition! Not everyone needs to know what lies deep in your closet-nor do you need to relish in telling them about it.

Who you share it with: Jesus Christ, Taylor Swift, Oprah Winfrey, Ariana grande, Virgin Mary

Fictional characters like you:

Micky milkovich & frank Gallagher(shameless) showtime

Ulrich Nielson(dark) Netflix

Francis underwood & Thomas Yates( House of cards) Netflix

⛅️The smiths - how soon is now

⛅️The psychedelic furs - Love my way

8th house Virgo cusp:

You were born with a rather reserved and impartial energy. There is a noticeable preference to stay out of involvement or as one would say to keep an observant yet detached liaison with ones surroundings here. Ideally you seek intimacy of the mind rather than physical intimacy outright which occasionally clashes with your unconscious need for “touch.” The cutting nature of Virgo is extremely amplified here often creating literal Barriers between you and the outside world around you which may be good in some cases but not always. Unfortunately your more sacrificing and caring traits are shadowed by the cold and often meticulously thought out side you present. Your lesson is to understand that people are flawed, but most importantly as a human your too are indeed flawed.

Who you share it with: Barack Obama, Megan Fox, Nicki Minaj, Russell Crowe, Naomi Campbell.

Fictional characters like you:

Doug stamper & Claire underwood(house of cards) Netflix

Javier pereira(good behavior) USA

Bette Davis(feud: Bette and Joan) FX

🍂The dead weather - rocking horse

🍂Johnny cash - mercy seat

8th house libra cusp:

You were born with a almost unbelievable amount of innocence and charm. Socially your impeccable always capable of giving the world and those around you exactly what they’ve wanted and more. Ironically the weighted nature of libra here actuality provides a bit of clarity on the darker themes associated with the 8th house. You find transformations something more on the side of beauty rather than something on the side of the vulgar and obstructive. There is a dying goddess syndrome associated with this placement being the fact that those whom have this seem to see a gradual death of their beauty only to be completely remodeled even more beautiful than they were previously. Though despite the ease presented here shallowness and inaccessibility cloud you, as often speaking upon real and dark matters with you seem to scare the child in you that wants to see the world as jolly and amicable. Your lesson is to see the beauty in not only the pure side of life but also the struggles and pains that exist; not to turn a blind eye but to see the truth before you.

Who you share it with: michael Jackson, George Clooney, Orlando bloom, David bowe, Whitney Houston.

Fictional characters like you:

Joshua ‘j’ Cody & Catherine brown(animal kingdom) USA

Tyrese, Gabriel stoked & Paul “Jesus”(walking dead) AMC

Celeste wright & ed Mackenzie(Big little lies) HBO

🐿nena - 99 luftballons

🐿Tracy Chapman - fast car

8th house Scorpio cusp:

You were born with an atmosphere of death, like that of a one winged angel out of sight of the sky. Much like Aries intensity is no foreigner to you Nor is the concept of darkness in the life around you. Unlike most you’ve seen the hardships, the falls, the wounds, the scars of the broken. Scorpio is at home in this house-often in such a way that these natives seem the most alive despite the overwhelming flow of contempt that surrounds them. You’re capable of deep healing-healing that could bring someone out of the very clouds themselves but this is something deep within you that just first require you to meet the winged demons lurking around in your own mind and soul. People are frightened by your true nature and because of this at times you wear a cloak around those be it a smile or an exaggerated sense of happiness just so they don’t leave you. Your lesson is to realize that just because people can’t expect your truth doesn’t mean your to much nor does it mean you’re evil or too dark it means your path is unique and your path is one unlike any others.

Who you share it with: Rihanna, Shakira,zayn malik, James Dean, Ryan gosling.

Fictional characters like you:

Ellen barkin & deran Cody(animal kingdom) USA

Maeve Millay & Dr Robert Ford(westworld)HBO

Sun(sense8)Netflix

8th house Sagittarius cusp:

Many sag in the 8th house natives are born with a very obscure but unique two Time life trait. Often these natives live life in stage one, infantile and erratic, living life without remorse or commitment-flying from the next fleeting feeling to the next then crashing into phase two the more quietly observant years-viewing the world yet reacting only when necessary, optimistic and deeply self spiritual in what they deem as the unknown. Commitment is something that you grow into, not necessarily something that comes naturally like with most people which can cause you trouble in the realm of romance and the realm of overall projects and even things as small as a job. At some point in these natives lives there is a turning point in which they no longer are a horse prancing about they become a true centaur capable of deep and often soulful commitment to another or whatever calls them forth but as with the 8th house this is a trait that takes time to cultivate. Your lesson in this life is to learn that settling down and committing in no way shape or form takes away any ability for you to live or explore the world any more than you would’ve been capable without! It’s okay to love and belong to something the world won’t stop moving I promise. Stop sabotaging relationships that are good for you just because you’re afraid of missing out on a party that’ll never come.

Who you share it with: Martin Luther king, Mikey Cyrus, Lana Del Rey, Mariah Carey, snoop dog.

Fictional characters like you:

Kevin Garvey & matt lamison(the leftovers)HBO

Lenny busker & Kerry loudermilk(Legion)

John Shelby & May Carleton(peaky blinders) Netflix

🐎kid bloom - I kissed a girl and she kissed me

🐎Roosevelt - Montreal

8th house Capricorn cusp:

Ah Capricorn in the 8th your were born with wisdom, wisdom that both to your befit and detriment has aged you before you were even able to waddle across the ground. You have a more astute nature about you, one that makes it clear to others that you’re not to be trifled with. Often there is a heavy energy that shrouds you, capable of bringing a room to a complete stand still once mastered-though in the same token this ability of respect also causes alienation amongst those closest and dear. The world in your eyes is a constant high rise uphill battle, one you refuse for any reason to let get the jump upon you. The bravado and tenacity you’re capable of at times can get you to the top but at what cost? The question for natives of this placements is wether or not power and prestige tower over love and care? Money and glory or intimacy and vulnerability? Your lesson plain and simple is to open your heart, allow the inevitability or a let down or a sad day to touch your heart! Because even though you’d like it not to be true you feel pain and you need a gentle hug as much as the person besides you.

Who you share it with: Albert Einstein, lady Gaga, Sandra Bullock, Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson.

🐺Chris isaak - wicked game

🐺placebo - running up that Hill

8th house Aquarius cusp:

You were born with a natural detachment from your own body, There has always been a at times cold, yet alarmingly far away nature about you. These natives where often the unproblematic child when growing up on an emotional level, sure outburst were occupant from time to time-but that more childlike and often emotive nature present in us all just wasn’t there with these natives. The older you get the more detachment begins to embody you often leading to the creation similarly to Gemini of alter egos, varying emotional responses, along with altogether emotional alienation. The processing of emotions is either non existent-or a painful process for you leading to avoidance of the big picture which is usually that these natives repress childhood trauma and even present trauma to the point of numbness-leading to a plethora of random, and seemingly obscure emotional reactions at inappropriate moments or moments of aloneness. Either you feel it or you don’t and often times you prefer it to be the latter which can often create an aura of being out of reach which causes many who romantically or even are related to these individuals to seek out reactions from the natives by any means which only serves to further cause the native to dive into themselves. Your lesson is to confront the big bad red door that you’ve placed so many chains upon, take it day by day, year by year if need be and slowly but gradually confront all those demons! Learn their names, their triggers, their motives and their sob stories-and feel every painful rushing feeling-let yourself be alive.

Who you share it with: Angelina Jolie, Julia Roberts, bill gates, will smith, Mel Gibson, Tyra Banks & George w. Bush.

Fictional characters like you:

Legion(legion)FX

Elliot alderson & Joanna wellick(Mr. robot) USA

Lydia & Allison argent(teen wolf)MTV

🌫Stardust - music sounds better with you

🌫 Daughter - run

8th house Pisces cusp:

You were born with a deep receptivity to this world. Often times emotions much like Scorpio and cancer here are the theme but in a much more powerfully cosmic sense! You feel the world around you-it’s tension and quiet underflow which often can be easily overwhelming for these natives unknown to those whom happen to be close to them. Their is a sense of grief for these natives one that colors them even in their happiest moments it always seems like something is wrong and slightly adjacent. Intimacy is something that comes naturally for these natives but is also something that’s subtly avoided out of fear of being so dependent on another that the ego itself is lost in the transaction. They deeply fear the loss of their own selves through another which often causes a repulsion to the idea of sex or commitment yet Pisces nature always somehow leads them directly into the fray as if it were a moving train. Your love is very genuine and true but it can also be so honest and sincere that those whom aren’t ready often find themselves either attracted to what they can take from you or feel as though they don’t deserve you. Your lesson is to grasp yourself from the world of the spiritual-to create an earthy manifestation to ground yourself with, to learn and feel through the energy around you and see who’s deserving and who’s using you-to love the world but also to allow yourself to be loved in the same passion you do it. Stop absorbing all the personalities around you and cultivate your own otherwise you’ll lose track of the real you.

Who you share it with: Marilyn Monroe, Donald trump, Johnny Depp, Drake, Selena Gomez

Fictional characters like you:

Dolores(westworld)HBO

Alison Lockhart & Helen solloway(the affair) showtime

#mine #8th house #8th house your lesson #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagitarrius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

[mahouxshoujoxme]

all of them

Tsubaki lore, ya say?

(also I’m using you as her eternal bondmate, even though you aren’t back in the game yet )

Putting it under a read more bc its SO MUCH

abalone: what kind of situations compromise my muse emotionallyTsubaki is generally a bit of a bubbly, optimistic airhead, so not much will dramatically effect her emotionally unless it involves her friends or loved ones being hurt or put in danger.

aegerine: my muse’s opinion of the supernaturalShe pretends to be too “logical” to believe in spirits to cover the fact that she is 100% scared of ghosts

agate: how my muse calms downSince it takes so much to upset her, she rarely needs an outside distraction to calm herself down, but when she needs an escape from the world she will lose herself in her studies, or endlessly pester her bondmate for cuddles~

blue lace agate: my muse’s favorite form of communication (verbal, letters, texting, etc.)Tsubaki always prefers face to face communication above all else, but loves the romance and personality in hand written letters.

fire agate: if my muse is brave or cowardly I certainly wouldn’t call her a coward, but some of her “bravery” could at times be better described as naive optimism.

moss agate: if my muse has a high or low opinion of themselfTsubaki is certainly not one to brag of her own talents, but she knows she is a woman with high worth

amazonite: what kind of situations call for my muse to be dishonestShe would never lie, no matter the circumstance

amethyst: what my muse would most like to be able to shape-shift intosomething small and elegant, like a butterfly

ammolite: how lucky or unlucky my muse isShe’s annoyingly lucky

angel aura quartz: my muse’s opinion of LGBT+ issuesShe just thinks everyone deserves to live happy lives, however they wish to live them.

apache tears: a sadness headcanonNot much makes her terribly sad, but Tsubaki is a big crybaby. Both happy and sad crying happen frequently.

apatite: a headcanon about my muse’s intuitionBecause of her personality, many people assume Tsubaki is not the brightest upon first meeting her. But being a scholar and talented craftswoman, she has wonderful intuition. Whether she tends to follow that intuition, or ignore it for something more exciting is another story entirely, however.

aquamarine: where my muse feels most calm/relaxedin either her study or her workshop, surrounded by books and gadgets

biotite: the biggest problems my muse is currently dealing withWell her comrades being incapacitated and this strange voice are certainly not things she enjoys.

bloodstone: how my muse sees themself as part of the world at largeEveryone has a place, no matter how large or small. And Tsubaki is happy to have her place as a craftswoman helping her fellow adventurers on their quests.

calcite: my muse’s social tendencies (introverted vs extroverted, parties vs one-on-one conversations, etc.)Tsubaki is very outgoing and tends to try to spark conversation with everyone she meets. She wants to hear every tale every adventurer has to tell, and is always eager to swap tips and techniques with fellow craftsmen. However she tends to get a bit over excited and can be a bit much for the average stranger on the street.

carnelian: an art-related headcanonAs a practiced and proud craftswoman, Tsubaki can create masterpieces of jewelry, weaponry, armor, along with many types of decorative trinkets and statues. She can cook you any meal you could dream of, and leave your mouth watering for more, as well as brew you the purest, strongest potions an adventurer could need.

As far as the realm of visual arts such as painting and drawing, you would think she had never picked up a pencil in her life. That, however, does not stop her from trying.

celestite: how my muse deals with anxietyBy losing herself in her studies or her craft

chalcopyrite: how my muse deals with ending relationshipsHaving mostly dedicated herself to her studies and her work, Tsubaki had never taken the time to form deep romantic bonds with others, and therefore does not have much experience with ending a deeper relationship. She had plenty of friends and acquaintances from her travels, but had not developed an emotional bond of the sort until she met one certain unseasoned miqo'te gladiator, whom she bonded with through her mentor-ship and their journey together.

charoite: who my muse looks up toshe looks up to everyone, she’s pretty short (ba dum tss)

chrysocolla: a money-making headcanonBeing a master of her crafts, Tsubaki could easily bring in as much gil as she could need. She would rather, however, spend her time creating tools and gear to help out her fellow adventurers and will accept no coin for most of her work.

copper: how I think my muse will end up when they’re olderAs a scholar who wishes to learn all of the secrets of her great world, Tsubaki does not see herself ending her life as an adventurer any time in the near future. Traveling together with her love until the end is the only life she can see for herself.

coral: how my muse views the natural worldTsubaki loves the natural world, and is very thankful for all the materials and tools Eorzea can naturally provide for her. She is always very respectful of the enviornment around her, and only takes exactly what is necessary for her work.

diamond: a sex headcanonTsubaki views physical intimacy as a deep bond, only to be shared with the one most important to her. She prefers long, slow love making to quicker, rougher experiences.

dolomite: a sleep headcanonThough her bondmate could curl up on the bed asleep all day, Tsubaki would refuse sleep entirely if she could. Araragi often has to carry a sleeping Tsubaki to bed from her study deep into the night.

emerald: how my muse tells someone they love them without wordsTsubaki tends to show her love through her craft, leaving small treats and trinkets about for her love to find and take with him on his journeys.

fluorite: what my muse’s room looks likeHer room is full, every surface buried under piles of books and research materials or crafting tools. Though the room is crowded, everything seems to have its own place, and moving anything will earn you a stern talking to about her “system” and how you can’t throw her area out of balance.

fossil: what my muse’s dream job isTraveling all through Eorzea to learn all the world has to offer, doing odd jobs and creating tools and goods for those she meets to pay her way.

galena: what it’s like to be in a relationship with my museTsubaki loves deeply and intensely, taking every chance she can to dote upon her beloved. She isn’t shy to show off her relationship in public and showers her love in special, one of a kind, hand-made items to help him on his quests.

garnet: what my muse’s perfect partner would beAs it would take time away from her studies, Tsubaki was never much interested in romantic relationships, until she met certain miqo'te gladiator. Goofy and a bit unseasoned of an adventurer, she took it upon herself to mentor him through his journey. Along the way she found herself falling deeply in love with him, his happy demeanor a perfect match with hers.

gold: my muse’s financial situationNever wanting for anything because of the value of her craft, she never saw a point to accruing finances in the form of excess coin.

hematite: how squeamish my muse isGenerally her want to learn and her curiosity overtake any squeamish tendencies

iddenite: how much of an “inner child” my muse hasbasically, she baby

iolite: my muse’s drinking habitsTsubaki does not prefer alcohol, but would not necessarily turn a drink down. She is, however, a major lightweight.

jade: if my muse would ever cheat on a partnerabsolutely not.

jasper: what my muse would be like as a parentAs she wants to spend her life traveling, Tsubaki never had a want for Children. If she were to ever have them though, she would love them just as deeply and intensely as she does her bondmate, making sure they were always cared for and never wanting for anything.

kyanite: an anger headcanonNothing can make Tsubaki truly mad beyond her loved ones being hurt. However if you are the one to cause her loved ones pain, you will face her endless rage.

lapis lazuli: where ‘home’ is to my museAs a traveling adventurer, she does not have a true place to call home. She does, however always make it a point to return to the restaurant and guild hall her free company calls their headquarters.

lodestone: what kind of people gravitate towards my museBecause of her outspoken and bubbly demeanor, Tsubaki tends to draw people in of all types.

malachite: what my muse as a child thought they would be when they grew upGrowing up on the Steppe, Tsubaki always dreamed of leaving to see what the would outside had to offer.

mica: what my muse views as their worst personality traitTsubaki is always worried she is not strong enough to protect the ones she loves, always studying as hard as she can to further strengthen her healing magics

moonstone: my muse’s opinions on outer spaceIf she can study something about it, she is interested in it

mother of pearl: if my muse tends to lift people up or bring them downAlways an optimist, trying to bring the best of those around her, she will always try to lift up those around her

nebula stone: how good my muse’s memory isTsubaki has a near photographic memory, which helps in her studies greatly.

obsidian: which of the seven deadly sins my muse would behonestly my bab is so pure i dont have an answer to this

opal: how creative my muse isTsubaki is overflowing with creative energy, spending every free moment not devoted to her studies tinkering with some new creation.

pearl: a mental health headcanonTsubaki knows that keeping good mental health is essential to maintaining her studies, and thus makes sure to take plenty of time to ensure she is always treats her mental health well.

petalite: what my muse would do if they found a wallet on the streetTsubaki would absolutely search endlessly until she found the owner.

pyrite: a physical health headcanonIn order to continue her travels, Tsubaki keeps herself in top shape.

quartz: how my muse thinks other people see themTsubaki never much cared what others think of her, but she thinks in general people view her in a positive light.

rhodonite: if my muse prefers elegance or convenienceKnowing that long travels sometimes require more convenience than elegance, but also being a craftswoman who has an appreciative eye for elegance, Tsubaki tries to use her own skills and knowledge to create new gear that combine the two as best as possible.

rubellite: if my muse has any 'triggers’ that inspire painful memoriesNot really, Tsubaki is probably the only character I’ve ever written that doesn’t have a tragic uwu backstory

ruby: a happiness headcanonHappiness for Tsubaki lies in being surrounded by those she loves, and being free to roam and journey as she pleases

sapphire: if everyone my muse knew was hanging off a cliff and they could only choose three to save, the rest certainly dying, who they would chooseShe would absolutely never chose anyone’s life over another’s. Tsubaki would fight endlessly to find a way to save everyone, even if she would lose her own life in the process

serpentine: how my muse would seduce anotherTsubaki has never been one for romance or physical relationships, she she is very inexperienced. Intimate encounters with her bondmate tend to be very clumsy and innocent.

silver: if my muse prefers masculinity or femininityTsubaki is extremely feminine.

tsavorite: if my muse believes in destiny or fateTsubaki believes that everyone has the power to create their own future. Giving in to ideas like being stuck to one future or destiny is just someone giving up or not having the strength to fight for what they truly want, and she will do everything in her power to empower those around her to chase the futures they each truly want.

ulexite: how empathetic/sympathetic/compassionate my muse isENTIRELY. If anyone around Tsubaki is hurting or having troubles, she will absolutely take that pain onto herself and do anything in her power, endlessly to help them. Oftentimes to her own disadvantage.

unakite: what my muse’s ideal pet would beanything fluffy that will let her snuggle it and would have no problems being on the road for long periods of time.

verdite: my muse’s ethnicity/family historyTsubaki is a Raen Au Ra, though she could never stand for the secluded life of those she descended from

zebra stone: what gets my muse excitedliterally everything

zoisite: does my muse believe everything’s going to work out for them in the end or not?As long as she draws breath, she has an opportunity so solve any problem she faces.

#it took me SO LONG TO TYPE ALL THIS OUT #but it was fun to think about all this ; u ; #ffxiv #cactuar server #senjyogaharara #ask

[growth-overload]

It doesn’t always hurt the way you think it will.

This is a letter to myself from four years ago about our life as an SA survivor. We’re not living for it, babe.

To start us off, there’s some more obvious stuff. Touching sucks. Because it’s not just touching that bothers you - it’s the fact that you crave intimacy and seriously all you want in the world is to hug someone, and you can’t.

Anything intimate is just a paradox. Opening up, being social, and putting yourself out there is something that you would die for - but you can’t. Yourr always reaching for it, and then jerking your hand away like being normal is a poisonous snake, or a hot stove, or something.

Feelings are off the rails, in case you didn’t know. Sometimes, youll just wake up and then it’s like everything was shut off overnight. Don’t feel happy, don’t feel sad, don’t get angry - nothing. It’s so miserable. Especially when you start to prefer it that way. Other times, youll wake up and feel everything. Over-analyzing every single thing you do - to the point that you end up messing it up. Stuttering, spilling, tripping, you name it - if it’s on this existential plane, you will overthink it and then malfunction. Often in these periods of emotional overload, you’re gonna mix things up. We mistake love for fear, and gratitude for manipulation. We get scared when things get real. We run. You’re like a deer, dude. Stop staring at that light like a weirdo and let someone treat you right. Date the boy, you’re only young once. Stop expecting everyone to be your abuser. Stop expecting everyone to run for the hills just because you didn’t have it easy.

There’s also the episodes. You get stuck in hyper-realistic dreams like quicksand, and you physically cannot wake up. You’ll try, but you won’t. You’re still too exhausted. And then, when you do wake up, you’re gonna be the most paranoid, twitchy, and sensitive you’ve ever been in your life. Everyone is not trying to hurt you. They aren’t going to touch you. It’s just your mom. Give her a hug.

You will also be ready and willing to fight any man that crosses you - I’m so serious. It’s not a joke anymore. If they look at you the wrong way, you will start yelling. Very inconvenient when we’re at work, to be honest.

You’re gonna have the worst, stupidest, most unnecessary defense mechanisms this world has ever seen. Stop convincing yourself that you aren’t ready for relationships just because you’re scared. That’s a dick move. Don’t say out of pocket stuff to get a reaction out of people just because you’re upset - literally just tell them that you’re upset, man. Everyone isn’t your ex, so stop acting like that. Everyone isn’t lying to you, so stop cutting them off. Everyone doesn’t secretly want you out of their lives, so stop crying about that. Everyone isn’t using you, so stop refusing to give.

I miss you. So much. I think about you all the time. You were actually kind of good at math, which is crazy. You are so full of sunshine and excitement and bravery, and you are so ready to give the world to everyone. You’re so willing to love, and make new friends just because everybody needs one. You have so many questions, and you have no idea that some of the answers will break you. There’s a piece of you still with me, but it’s not the same. It never will be, because now there are other pieces of me, too. I learned a lot from you, but I learned a lot from the other versions of me, too. I love them all, in their own special way. Maybe one day soon I can love myself like that, too.

I know you’re never gonna read this letter, and that’s okay. You probably wouldn’t listen to it anyway, because you’re seventeen and you’re stupid. I just like to talk to you, sometimes.

I wish I could tell you how strong you are. I wish you knew how much easier things would be if you just said no to that first date, or if you were serious about ending things the first time. I wish I could tell you that even though you shouldn’t have, you did your damnedest to make things work. I wish I could tell you that you don’t have to sit in the shower for four hours, scrubbing and scraping your body to rid yourself of him, because your cells completely shed and rebuild themselves every seven years, and one day there will be no atom on your body that he has touched. It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. We’re going to be okay.

I love you.

[where-the-wind-is]

A Little Birdy Told Me

The Arcana

Masterlist

Chapter 13

Lucio was practically on fire with the need to touch the sleeping medic. Birdy's forever-tense posture and guarded tone had given way completely to the comfort of the counts bed. His hair splayed recklessly over the pillows and his breaths were deep and restful. Lucio found himself having to continuously talk himself into staying still. He wouldn't do anything while the man slept, he more than deserved the rest.

He'd always found the medics kind gestures and youthful voice incredibly attractive, but now it was different. Lucio hadn't managed to sway the bird with money or heroics, but somehow, somehow , he still cared. He stayed and thought of Lucios well-being even though he had nothing to gain. Even though he had plenty to lose by showing the count such decency. As if something in Lucios mind finally snapped upon the revelation that the bird was there for him and nothing else…

Suddenly every inch that separated them was a million miles.

Suddenly Lucio could think of nothing else but having this person closer to him so he could never leave again. The bird's naive care for someone with nothing to offer was inconceivable to the Count. Completely outside of the realm of anything he could have considered. All at once he'd stumbled across a miracle of a human, and he couldn't let him leave. If he left he'd go back to that place. That underground hole that would crush a good spirit like him. Lucio was never good with people so he couldn't fathom how he stumbled across a gem in a wasteland, but he was determined to keep the bird safe. So he never loses that spark, that faith, that uncompromising compassion in the face of terrible cruelty.

Lucio drew the covers closer around himself and his miracle, hating the sun outside for beginning to set. Hating it for daring to turn away from a sleeping saint and leave him in the dark.

The boy was unlike any Lucio had ever met, unlike any he could ever be.

Birdy jolts suddenly and Lucio almost falls out of bed in fright. What is it?! What's wrong? Is he uncomfortable? Is he in pain? Is he having a bad dream? Lucio leans closer, careful not to touch and listens to sweet birdy's breathing. It's shallow and harsh before slowly settling back into a steady deep pattern.

That's right Birdy sleep now. He'll kill any bad dream that plagues you. Sweet man who faces such hardship and still stays kind, still sees the best in him.

Why does that affect him so much?

Lucios immediate reaction is to shut down the questioning thought. His feelings are confusing him and he tried to hide behind intimacy but Birdy was far too tired to think straight. Now he's alone in the quiet again and thinking means pain, thinking means all kinds of emotions he's not ready to face. Emotions he doesn't want to face. Why does he need to know why? Can't he just ignore it and it will go away? He looks again to his restful bird and watches him sigh lightly in his sleep. Lucio feels an odd sense of pride that he was able to provide such comfort after days of being unable to lie down. Possibly months of being unable to sleep away from the horrors of that dungeon. Birdy the question is still there, why? Why does your kindness make him so helpless? Why does he suddenly need you near him? Need you on his side?

What would you do bird? What would you say?

You'd ask what he's thinking.

You'd tell him to say what he means and accept what he thinks. You'd tell him to tell you everything and you'd help him make sense of it. Slowly Lucio realizes...Birdy hadn't been a distraction from the thoughts, he's been helping him through them. Building up the strength to face them on his own, just like he did to help Lucio walk. With a jolt of his own Lucio feels unexpected tears prick at his eyes.

What?! Why was he suddenly about to start sobbing? What had the bird done to him to turn his whole world upside down in a matter of minutes?

Why was he so affected by this?

There the question was once again, the one he'd been avoiding the whole time. Why did birdy's kindness make him so...so… what even was this feeling?!

Ok he's panicking, he didn't know when it started or why but now he was panicking and he couldn't even tear himself away from his sleeping bird long enough to freak out properly. His whole body felt too hot and his breaths came in pants...what caused this? He could almost hear the bird in his mind telling him to answer the question. Why was this happening? Birdy's voice in his mind was calm and soft...just one step at a time, it cooed. Just take a step, if you don't you never will. If you stop you'll lose the ability.

Carefully he thought back, something he avoids most often. He thought back to when the bird first came into his life.

He'd tried to buy the bird's affection. Birdy had snapped at him! But he was being ruthlessly harrassed at the time...for a rumor Lucio had started. He felt a cool blade twisting his gut but still he continued. One step down.

Next Bird fell asleep on the floor... but who wouldn't if they had to work in a place like that? He was probably already missing sleep, and Lucio tattled like a petulant child. Because Birdy wouldn't take off his mask and risk his life. The knife twisted farther and Lucio felt his tears finally breach his eyes. He hadn't expected to cry twice today, but it was another step down.

Birdy had gotten harshly punished because of Lucios spite, and no doubt the people teasing him heard about the incident. Oh it probably didn't go over well when word spread that Birdy had fallen asleep here. Finally a sob left him as he remembered just what those devil's had in store for his poor bird, he could still feel the trickle of warm liquid running down his neck and raising goosebumps on his spine.

Where had that blood come from? Was it from the plague patients? Would they have actually exposed Birdy to the plague like that? And through all of it Birdy was helping him walk, helping him read, helping him get better and never once thinking of himself.

That was the last step.

Lucios eyes flew open and his heartbeat steadied. That was why it made him so sad and happy and scared and guilty at the same time. It was the difference.

When something awful happened to Lucio he begged for sympathy, casting the hardship on anyone who would listen. But Birdy...he took it all in stride because he knew Lucio came first. Because he cares. No one had ever cared so much about Lucio, to the point it became detrimental to Birdy's own wellbeing. How far would Birdy have gone? How far would Lucio let him go? And in the end...Lucio could never do it.

It made him feel so much because Lucio could never do what Birdy was doing. The very idea that it was possible threw him through such a loop that he had a full panic attack in his own bed. He could never imagine the mind of someone willing to make such sacrifices. Willing to be so caring towards a someone who, up until today, had only made his life harder and sometimes hit on him.

Lucio couldn't understand this, he couldn't comprehend how the bird could live with such hardships and still treat Lucio with more kindness and respect than anyone he'd ever known. Lucio laid there and cried over what he could never understand.

He wiped his tears and made a promise.

Obviously the only explanation was that he couldn't be a regular person. Some way, somehow, Lucio had found an actual angel to help him. He didn't know who the angel was sent to help but Lucio must've intercepted him before he got there, and he was not letting him go.

He made a promise to keep this kindness safe. To be someone who is worth wasting an angel on. He never wanted to hear the crying he heard in the facility, when that boy was...no he wouldn't let that happen. Never would he take this blessing for granted like he had.

He felt his eyes beginning to drift shut as he sorted out his thoughts and feelings for what was probably the first time in his life. The guilt and sadness was still there, and it left him raw, but it was a good sign if physical therapy had taught him anything. He knew from both learning to walk again and learning to use his prosthetic all those years ago that the pain had to happen for the strength to return.

He felt sleep pulling at his consciousness but he wouldn't give in. If his bird were to get as much rest as he deserved then he had to stay awake. He had to make sure Valdemar didn't come looking for him. He had to make sure nothing disturbed his Bird. Sleep was more persuasive than he thought and it fought him like a stormy ocean. Was this how you felt? He thought numbly to himself. All those days of nonstop work for that facility? ...nonstop caring for me?

He shook his head and focused on the rise and fall of birdy's chest, this smallest of sacrifices was the least he could do for the bird who saved his life. Slowly he counted each of the boy's breaths.

One, two, three...

#The Arcana #The Arcana Fanfic #ALBTM

[anavoliselenu]

Fueled chapter 9

“I’m so sorry, Selena,” he whispers.

“It took so long to be rescued that I got an infection from the bacteria. From what doctors saw, the damage was extensive enough that it essentially ruined my ability to get pregnant.” I clear my throat before continuing. “Max’s mom, Claire, blames me for everything.”

“That’s asinine,” he interjects.

I shrug at his comment, agreeing but still letting guilt make me think differently. “She thought that if we hadn’t been having premarital sex, this would have never happened.”

Justin snorts at the comment. “You were together, what six years?”

I smile softly at him. “Almost seven.”

“And she expected you to be abstinent that long?”

“To each their own beliefs.” I shrug. “We went on the little trip because it was our last chance to get away. I was stressed about everything and the doctor was getting worried about my blood pressure. Max wanted to try and calm me down. To spend some time together before chaos ensued. So she blames me for killing him and her granddaughter.”

“You know that’s not true, Selena.”

“I know, but it doesn’t take the guilt away. On the anniversary of the death and his birthday she calls me to vent her anger and sadness.” I close my eyes momentarily, fighting away the horrible images that creep into my dreams. “It’s her therapy I guess…and even though it tears me apart, listening to her is the least I can do.” He pulls me farther up his chest and comforts me by wrapping his powerful arms around me and resting his chin on my head. “Oddly enough, meeting you, spending time with you, has allowed me to realize that I’m slowly coming to terms with what happened. Time has allowed me to remember Max and how he was before the crash, not just after. I think the hardest part is the baby.” I exhale brokenly. “I will always cherish the feeling of a life growing inside of me, especially since I’ll most likely never get that chance again.” I nuzzle into the warmth of his neck and sigh. “She would have been two years old.”

I catch the sob before it slips out, but Justin feels it. He squeezes me tighter, his even breathing and ability to listen is just what I need. I feel like a burden has been lifted off of me. All of my skeletons have been exposed. Now he knows. Everything. I cling to him because for some reason, his presence here completes the transformation for me.

I don’t want to be alone anymore and am so sick of being numb. I want to feel again—in the extremes that Justin makes me feel.

I’m ready to live again. Really live. And in this moment I know that it is only Justin that I can imagine sharing these new memories with. I close my eyes and snuggle into him, the sleep I couldn’t find earlier slowly claiming me now. I am just starting to drift off when his voice stirs my eyes open. “When I was six years old,” he says so softly that if it weren’t for the vibration in his chest, I wouldn’t know to listen for his words. He stops for a moment and clears his throat. “When I was six, my—the woman who gave birth to me—beat me so badly that I ended up unconscious and in the hospital.” He exhales loudly while I withhold my breath.

Holy shit! He’s talking and hearing the pain in his voice I know that his wounds are still raw and wide open. Infected. How can you heal from your mother beating the crap out of you? How can you accept love from anyone when the one person that is supposed to protect you from everything is the one who harmed you the most? I’m at a loss for words, so I wrap my arms around him and squeeze before placing a soft kiss on his sternum. “Did the hospital call the police? Social services?” I ask timidly, unsure of how much he is willing to share with me.

I can feel him nod his head in assent. “My mom was the one who called 9-1-1. She told them my dad had done it. That she was the one who walked in and stopped it.” He pauses, and I let him take a minute to compose himself and clear the emotion swimming in his voice. “I’ve never met my dad so...I was too scared of what she’d do to me to say otherwise…too young to know that life could be any better than what I had. She pulled me from school after that. Moved around a lot so social services couldn’t check up on us…” His words drift off and there are so many thoughts running through my head, so many things I want to tell him to console him. That it wasn’t his fault. That love doesn’t have to be that way. That he is a true survivor for coming out of it and thriving. But I know my words will do nothing to take away the years of abuse that he must have endured or lessen its psychological after effects. Besides, I’m sure he’s heard it all from psychiatrists time and time again.

I look up at him and the haunted look in his eyes tells me what he’s just admitted is the least of his childhood nightmares. Do I tell him what he confessed last night in the limo? I struggle with the decision and choose not to. Sharing his past has to be on his terms. I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off before I can begin. “Selena, please don’t feel sorry for me.”

“I’m...I’m not,” I stutter, knowing that’s the last thing he wants, but he can see right through my lie. How can I not feel sorry for the little boy he once was?

“That life was a long time ago for me. That little boy—he is a different person than I am now.”

Bullshit. He is who he is because of what happened to him. Does he not see that?

I press a soft kiss on the center of his chest. “Do you know what happened to your mom?” I say in a hesitant voice, almost afraid to ask but also wanting to know as much I can since he is talking.

He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his hand from my back and runs it over his stubbled jaw before exhaling loudly. “After my dad found me on the steps of his trailer…he brought me to the hospital. Stayed with me,” he retells, utter reverence in his voice. “Little did I know he was this big time director. Not that I would have even known what that meant though. Later…much later, I learned that he’d wasted a whole day of studio time sitting with me in the hospital. At the time, all I remember thinking was he had the gentlest voice and his eyes. They didn’t look mean even though I flinched when he touched me...” He trails off, lost in memories, and I let him for a moment.

“…and he ordered me every kind of food imaginable and had it delivered to the hospital room. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he watched me eat things I’d never had. Things every boy at that age should have had many times over by then. I remember pretending to be asleep when the police told him they found my mom and were bringing her in for questioning…that the x-rays and exams had shown years of…” He pauses, trying to find the right word as I hold my breath wondering which one of the horrific options he’ll use. “Neglect. And it is the only time in my life I’ve ever heard my dad use his stature to get what he wanted. I heard him ask the police officers if they knew who he was. To clear it with whomever they needed to, but that I was going to be under his custody from then on. That he’d get a team of lawyers if need be, but that’s how it was going to be.” He shakes his head with a soft laugh.

“That’s…” I’m at a loss for words. I don’t want to cheapen the memory by saying the wrong words, so I just leave it at that.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “I saw my mom once more, but it was across the courtroom. I know she went to jail, but I don’t know anything more than that. Never wanted to know. Why do you ask?”

“I just wondered how you left it. I thought maybe if you found out what happened to her…fill in any blanks you want to, that it might help. The nightmares might go away and—”

“I think that’s enough sharing for today,” he says, cutting me off and shifting our bodies abruptly so that I’m on my back and he’s lying half on me, his legs scissored with mine.

“Oh really?” I smile when I see the tension ease from his face and pain fade from his eyes. “Is the only way to get you to talk, a trade? Tit for tat so to speak?”

“Well...” he smirks pressing me into the mattress with his hips “...you have seen my tats.” He arches his eyebrows suggestively. “It’s only fair...”

Justin’s sudden change of subject is not lost on me. His inherent turn toward making things physical between us when I delve a little too deep. Normally I’d hesitate at using intimacy to ease the ache of sadness within, but this morning I just want him to help me forget for just a little bit the tears left in my soul from that day two years ago.

I wriggle beneath him, my body humming with need for his, loving the playful side that has reemerged to lighten the dark of our morning. “And I thought you said we were done with sharing for today.” The sound of his laugh is welcome as it rumbles through his chest into mine. I lift my head up and capture his bottom lip and pull on it. The low growl of desire in the back of his throat stokes my craving for him.

His hand brushes against my ribcage and palms my one breast not covered by his chest. He grazes a thumb over my already pert nipple, his touch a ripple of sensation slowly swelling through me. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Now about that tit,” he murmurs, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. He squeezes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and my gasp is absorbed by his mouth on mine.

“Will I ever get enough of you?” he asks against my lips. And I wonder the same thing. Will I ever tire of him? Of this? Of his taste or his touch or the rumble in his throat expressing how I make him feel when I touch him? Will he always bring me to such an aroused fever pitch? Surely my desire has to be sated at some point. From his touch alone, my thoughts are lost with only one remaining. Flickering through my mind.

Never.

Avery smiles at me as I go over some of the schedules and our standard rules and procedures. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but once you get familiar with it, you won’t have to think twice about it.”

She nods her head at me and looks over at Zander. He’s sitting on the couch, tattered stuffed doggy clutched to his chest, watching television. “What’s his story?” she asks quietly.

I look over my shoulder at Zander and smile. While still not talking much besides sporadic words here and there since the racetrack, he seems to be doing better. He is interacting a bit more with the boys, and I can see traces of emotion on his face whereas before it was blank. The therapist says he’s starting to participate, starting to interact with her.

It’s a start. Progress takes time.

Protective of my kids like a mother hen, I rarely share their backgrounds until a new employee has been with me for a while. “That’s Zander. He doesn’t talk much, but we’re working on it. He was in a rough situation that he’s dealing with internally. He’ll get there though.”

She gives me a quizzical look, but I ignore her interest and begin reviewing the next set of procedures. The doorbell rings and the unexpected interruption startles me. Jax is at baseball practice with Shane and Connor, so I rise to get the door.

When I look through the peephole, I’m caught off guard at the sight of Justin’s sister. I open the door cautiously, curiosity getting the better of me. “What a surprise! Hello, Quinlan.” I try to smile brightly at her all the while my heart beats rapidly at her presence. I marvel at how such a sweet looking, beautiful woman can instill such anxiety in me.

“Selena.” She nods, her perfect lips not quite forming a smile. “I came to get a tour of the place before I make a donation to the new project. I want to know exactly what my money is going to be used for.”

Well, hello to you too! I smile tightly, inviting her in. She could at least grace me with a little warmth—anything to melt her icy façade. What the hell have I done to her to deserve this deliberate chill?

“I’d be glad to give you a tour,” I force, wishing I could pawn her off on another counselor to show her around, but my manners and professionalism win out. Besides, something tells me this little visit is about more than checking out the facility for a donation. I plaster a fake smile on my face. “Please follow me.”

I inform Avery that she’s in charge of watching the boys and then proceed to show Quinlan the entire facility and explain its benefits. I’m probably rambling but she hasn’t asked any questions. Rather she has just stared at me the whole time with a quiet yet critical appraisal. And after about twenty minutes, I realize the inspection isn’t being done on The House or what we have to offer my boys. It’s solely on me.

I’ve had enough.

I glance to make sure that all of the boys are still outside playing with Avery before turning to face her. “Why is it you’re really here, Quinlan?” My tone matches the fuck you, no nonsense that I feel.

“To see if the facility is worthy of my donation,” she responds too sweetly to be true. She holds my gaze but I see something flicker in the ice queen’s eyes.

“I appreciate it as the facility and the kids are worthy of it,” I tell her, “but let’s be honest, why are you here? To see if the facility is worthy of your donation or if I’m worthy of your brother?” Quinlan’s eyes flash as I hit a direct bull’s-eye. Being protective of your brother is one thing. I understand that. Being a complete bitch is a whole different story. “Which one is it?”

She cocks her head and looks at me. “I’m just trying to figure out your angle.”

“My angle?”

“Yes, your angle.” Her voice is implacable and her eyes are right up there with Justin’s on the intensity scale. “You’re not the typical bimbo that Justin goes for…so I’m trying to figure out what exactly it is you want out of this. From him.” She twists her lips as she stares at me. I’m sure the shocked look on my face is something to stare at.

“I beg your pardon,” I sputter, more than offended.

“Are you a race groupie? Are you looking to land a part in my dad’s newest film? An aspiring model looking to sleep your way up the ranks? I can’t wait to hear what yours will be.”

“What?” I just stare at her for a moment, shock ricocheting through me until it churns to anger. “How dare you—”

“Oh, I get it now.” She smirks, sarcasm dripping from her words, and all I want to do is throttle her. “You need his money to finish this little project of yours,” she says, motioning to the space around her. “You’re using him to get your notoriety that way.”

“That’s uncalled for.” I take a step forward, pushed to the point that I don’t care that she’s Justin’s sister. I’d like to say something a lot worse, but I’m at work and I never know when impressionable ears are listening. But I can only be pushed so far before I throw my manners out the window, and she just shoved. “You know what, Quin? I’ve tried to be nice, tried to overlook your shitty attitude and your condescending sneer, but I’m done. Justin pursued me—not the other way around.” She arches an eyebrow at me as if she doesn’t believe me. “Yeah...” I laugh “...I find it hard to believe too, but he did. I don’t want a damn thing from your brother except for him to open up to the possibility that he deserves more than what he’s allowed himself thus far in his life.” I step back, shaking my head at her. “I don’t need to explain myself to you or justify your asinine accusations. Thanks for your false pretense of a donation, but I don’t want your money. Not in return for your judgment on me. I think it’s time you leave.” I point toward the hallway, my body vibrating with anger.

She smiles broadly at me, her face dropping its guard and filling with warmth for the first time since I’ve met her. “Not yet. We’re not done here.”

What? Great, can’t wait for the rest of this stimulating conversation.

“I knew you were for real.” She smirks, pulling in a deep breath. “I just needed to make sure that I was right.”

Whiplash.

Did I miss something here? I’m so confused right now that my mouth opens as I look at her like she’s bat-shit-crazy. The schizophrenic changing of subjects like Justin does must run in the family.

When I just stand there staring at her with disdain she continues. “I’ve never seen Justin like that at the track before. He brings his bimbos, they flit around like arm candy, but he disregards them. He never lets someone distract him when he’s in the car. You distracted him. I’ve never seen him so...” she searches for a word “...smitten with someone before.” She crosses her arms across her chest and leans against the wall. “And my dad tells me you were at the Broadbeach house? Then to top it off Becks tells me you went to Vegas with them?”

What is it with the women in Justin’s life keeping tabs on me and passing judgment?

Smitten? Justin may have said that I scare him, but in no way did he infer love or even hint at that. Definitely not smitten. I’m something different than his typical in-your-face, I-want-something-from-you-in-return type of girl. I burn him. I scare him. But for some reason despite all of that, I don’t make him want to try for something more than what he’s used to. I’m not enough to make him change his ways. He’s not going to confront his demons when he’s not even willing to talk about them. And that’s the only way I think he’ll be able to give into the emotion I see brimming in his eyes and feel in the worshiping actions of his touch.

I shake myself from my thoughts and focus on Quinlan. She stares at me. Really stares at me causing me to squirm under her silent scrutiny. “And your point is what, Quinlan?”

“Listen, as much as Justin tries to play Mr. Aloof and think that I don’t—shit my whole family...” she exhales “...doesn’t know about his little arrangements...” she rolls her eyes in disgust as she says the word, “It’s no secret to us. His stupid rules and sexist ways run amok. And as much as I disagree with him and his antics, I know it’s the only way he thinks he can have a relationship…his necessary way of dealing with his past.” Her eyes hold mine and I realize she is apologizing for her brother. For what he thinks he can’t give me. Over the fact that he’s afraid to even try.

“Was it that horrible?” I whisper, already knowing the answer.

Finally a softness plies her steeped countenance as a true sadness fills her eyes. She nods her head subtly. “He rarely speaks of it, and I’m certain there are parts that he’s never spoken about, Selena. Experiences that I can’t even begin to fathom.” She looks down at her pink painted nails and twists her fingers into each other. “Having parents who don’t want you is hard enough to come to grips with when you’re adopted. Justin…Justin had so much more than that to overcome.” She shakes her head and I can see that she is struggling with how much to tell me. She looks up at me, eyes clear yet conflicted. “An eight year old boy so hungry—locked in his room while his mom did God knows what for days—that he somehow escaped and went in search for food, luckily collapsing on my dad’s doorstep.”

I suck in a breath, my heart quickening, my soul wrenching, and my faith in humanity crumbling.

“That’s just a small snippet of his hell, but it’s his story to tell you, Selena. Not mine. I’m only sharing so you have an iota of what he’s been through. Of the patience and persistence you’re going to need.”

I nod in understanding, unsure of what to say next to a woman who moments before was berating me and who is now giving me advice. “So…”

“So I had to make sure you were for real.” She offers me an apologetic smile of resignation. “And once I did, I wanted to get a good look at the first woman that might be the one to make him whole again.”

Her words stagger me. “You’ve taken me by surprise here,” I admit, unsure of what else to say.

“I know that I may be coming off a little strong, presumptuous even in being here…but I love Justin more than anything in the world.” She smiles softly at his name. “And I’m just looking out for him. I want nothing less than the best for him.”

This I can understand.

She pushes off the wall and straightens herself in front of me. “Look, if you look past the gorgeously rough exterior…there’s a scared little boy inside that’s afraid of love. That for some reason he associates love with horrific expectations one minute and then thinks he’s not worthy of it the next. I think he’s afraid to love someone because he knows that they’ll leave. He’ll most likely hurt you to prove that you will...” she shakes her head “...and for that hell alone, I apologize because from what I can tell, you deserve better than that.”

Her words hit me in their full force. I understand the little boy inside because I have a backyard full of them right now with issues of their own. I just wish they had the unconditional love that Justin seems to have in Beckett and Quinlan. Someone who stands up for them and looks out for them because they want nothing but the best for them. This love—this protective feeling—I understand.

Quinlan reaches out and places her hand on my arm and squeezes to make her point. “I love my brother dearly, Selena. Some would say that I worshiped the ground he walked on growing up.” She reaches in her pocket and pulls something out, averting her eyes from mine. “I’m sorry for my intrusion. I really shouldn’t be here…interfering.” She seems embarrassed all of a sudden as she steps toward the door. She reaches out her hand and places a check in mine. Her eyes look up to meet mine, and for the first time I see acceptance in them. “Thank you for your time, Selena.” She takes a step past me and then hesitates and looks back at me. “If you get the chance, take care of my brother.”

I nod in acknowledgement and all I can manage is a stilted, “Bye,” as my head is in a whirlwind of chaos over her unexpected revelations.

The scream wakes me in the dead night. It’s a strangled, feral plea that goes on and on, over and over before I can even get out of the bedroom door. I race through the house toward the sound of unfettered terror, Dane and Avery right behind me, our footsteps pounding with urgency.

“Moooooommmmm!” Zander screams. I bolt through the door of his room as the soul shattering sound ricochets against the bedroom walls. He thrashes violently in his bed. “Nooooo! Noooo!”

I hear Shane’s panicked voice in the hallway, trying to help Dane settle down the little guys who have woken up and are now frightened. The thought flits through my mind on how sad it is that night terrors are such a regular visitor in this house that Shane’s no longer phased by them. But I focus solely on Zander now, knowing that Dane will take care of Shane and the rest of the boys. I hear Dane tell Avery to help me if I need it. Welcome to your first night at The House, Avery.

I cautiously sit on Zander’s bed. His body twists and writhes beneath the sheet, his face wet from tears, his bedding damp with sweat, and fearful whimpers escape from deep in his throat. The unmistakable smell of his terrifying fear suffocates the small room.

“Zander, baby,” I croon, careful to not raise my voice and add to the violence already haunting his nightmare. “I’m right here. I’m right here.” His crying doesn’t stop. I reach out to try and shake him awake and am taken aback when he thrashes ferociously, his fist connecting with my cheekbone. The pain registers just beneath my eye, but I shake it off, needing to rouse Zander to prevent him from hurting himself.

“Daddy, no!” he whimpers with such heartbreak that tears spring to my eyes. And despite it being a dream that cannot be used legally, Zander just confirmed the suspicion that his father killed his mother. Right before his eyes.

I struggle to wrap my arms around him. Despite his small size, the strength he has from the adrenaline induced terror is heightened. I manage to wrestle my arms around him and pull him into my chest, murmuring to him all the while. Letting him know I’m here and that I’m not going to hurt him. “Zander, it’s okay. C’mon, Zand, wake up,” I whisper over and over to him until he wakes with a start. He struggles to sit up and get out of my grip, searching the bedroom with hollow eyes to orient himself to his surroundings.

“Momma?” he croaks in such desperation that my heart shatters in a million pieces.

“It’s okay, I’m right here, buddy,” I soothe, rubbing my hand up and down his back softly.

He looks at me, eyes red and raw from crying and falls into my arms. He clings to me with such despair that I know I’d do anything to erase his memory of that night if given the chance. “I want my mommy,” he cries, repeating it over and over. It’s the first sentence I have ever heard him say and yet there is nothing to be excited about. There is nothing to encourage or celebrate.

We stay huddled together, arms wrapped tight for the longest time until his even breathing convinces me that he’s fallen back asleep. I slowly shift him to lie down on the bed, but when I attempt to withdraw my arms from around him, he clings even tighter.

It’s not until the sun’s rays peek through the closed mini-blinds that we both fall into a deep sleep.

The shudder of the motor vibrates through my body as I flick the paddle coming into turn four. Fuck. Something doesn’t feel right. Something’s off. I ease up more than necessary as I cross over and into the apron coming out of the turn.

“What’s going on?” Becks’ disembodied voice fills my ears.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” I grate out as I bring the car back up to speed to try and decipher what she’s telling me. Every shudder. Every sound. Each jolt of my body. My attention straining to try and pinpoint what feels off—something to substantiate why she doesn’t seem to be handling how she should. I can’t figure out what I’m missing, what I might be overlooking that could cost us a race.

Or put me headfirst into the wall.

My head pounds with stress and concentration. I pass the start/finish line, the grandstands to my right one big stretch of mixed colors. The blur I live my life in.

“Is—”

“How much preload in the differential?” I demand as I hit another paddle heading into turn one. The rear of the car starts to slide as I press the gas coming out of it, accelerating the car up to top speed. My body automatically shifts to compensate for the pressure imposed on it by the force and angle of the track’s bank. “Possibly the clutch plate? The ass end is sliding all over the place,” I tell him as I fight to get the car back under control on the chute before heading into turn two.

“That’s not poss—”

“You driving the fucking car now, Becks?” I bark into the mic, my hands gripping the wheel in frustration. Beckett obviously reads my mood, because he goes radio silent. My mind flickers to the nightmares that plagued my sleep last night. Of not being able to talk to Selena this morning when I called. Of needing to hear her voice to help clear the remnants from my mind.

Goddamnit, Donavan, get your head on the track. Irritation—at myself, at Beckett, at the fucking car—has me pushing the pedal down harder than I should down the back straightaway. My fucked up attempt at using adrenaline to drown out my head.

I know Becks is probably beside himself right now, thinking I’m gonna burn her up. Trash all the time and precision we’ve dialed into the engine. I’m nearing turn three and a part of me wishes there was no turn. Just a straight stretch of road where I could keep going, drop the hammer, race the wind, and outrun the shit in my head—the fear squeezing at my heart.

Chase the possibilities just beyond the reach of my fingertips.

But there isn’t one. Just another fucking turn. Hamster on a goddamn wheel.

I come into the turn too hot, my head too fucked up to be on the track. I have to consciously remember to try and not over-correct as the ass end gets too loose on me and slides to the right, drifting too high. A shiver of fear dances at the base of my spine for that split second when I’m not sure if I’ll be able to pull the car out in time to avoid kissing the barrier.

Beckett swears on the radio as I narrowly escape, and I shout out one of my own. The only way to voice the high of fear that just jolted through my system. Adrenaline, my momentary drug of choice, reigns until the realization of my stupidity will take over in the moments to come. It always takes a few seconds to hit.

Fuck me. I’m done. I shouldn’t be in the car right now. It’s stupid of me to be here when my head’s not right. I ease into turn four, decelerating when I hit pit row and stop where my crew stands behind the firewall. I silence the engine and blow out a loud breath. They all just stand there, no one stepping over, as I unbuckle my helmet and detach the steering wheel. I pull up on my helmet and it’s yanked from my hands.

[maryyp]

3 Weeks

It’s been roughly 3 weeks since I've started practicing mindfulness. I can say that it really has made me feel different, a little lighter, a little more aware of what I'm feeling and able to digest at a slower pace, if that makes any sense. I’m dealing with a lot of emotions right now. I’m craving intimacy, friendship, something new but I feel completely stagnant. I’ve been wondering if something is wrong with me or if I'm just going through another one of my little phases in my life. I’m still not 100% sure what it is but, I know when I kinda figure it out, I'll open up about it to someone. 

I’ve been trying to be more of who I am with people and on social media, it’s in hopes to see if people can truly see who I am and in hopes that I don’t always have to hide my quirks that no one has ever seen. I got a whole bunch of people making fun of me for it this week. While I don’t think their intention was to hurt my feelings, it kinda did. I tend to “obsess” with a lot of things I genuinely like or people I admire. I’ve been trying to show that side of me a bit more but, looks like people aren’t entirely down for it. Which keeps me wondering if I should do things I want to do or just “hide” it. I really noticed myself try to shut down who I am but I really don’t think I want too. I love people who are into certain things and aren’t scared of showing it. I think one of the really cool things about practicing mindfulness is advocating in not being judgmental towards yourself, your thoughts, or others. While not being judgmental towards your thoughts is somewhat easier than the other two, it slowly trickles into the rest of your life. I’m really excited to see how that plays out in my own life. I think sometimes we’re so caught up in what society wants us to do that we forget to just be who we are. I know I'm learning this. Especially with all my weird obsessions I have. Coffee and technology are kind of just the beginning of the things that I get caught up in. I do it to fill in a void. A void I shouldn’t have! Something I’m trying to fix. 

I’m still dealing with the pain of unrequited love. There’s days where I feel like I'm completely okay and then there was today. I was hit with a wave of emotion that left me sad. I hate missing someone that I couldn’t have. A couple of months ago, a friend of mine compared a break up she had, to the pain I had been feeling and told me, “you aren’t in pain. you got yourself into this mess, you two weren't in love. You can’t compare this to a break up or to my break up because you don’t know what it feels like.” I was extremely frustrated with what she said because man, who is she to tell me how I can’t feel. In the process of trying to explain my feelings, I was shut down and told my feelings aren’t valid. I was reading an article that spoke about the process of getting over unrequited love and it pretty much said, “yes, you can be heart broken. Your feelings didn’t know what’s happening. You fell in love and you were IN even if you weren’t actually IN and that can hurt just as much or even more than an actual break up.” Reading that and knowing someone else has experienced that pain, well it made the coping a little less harder on me. 

 I actually had a really interesting dream last night. I think my dreams truly let out any stressors I have in my life. I’ve had multiple dreams of my friend getting hurt by his girlfriend. Sometimes these stress dreams aren’t even about me!  I had a dream about the three guys in my life, past and present, where I told them they weren’t with women who deserved them. It was so interesting to be in that moment. I was in a room with all of them. One with his wife, and the other two were alone, without their significant others. I don’t understand the reasoning behind the dream, we were literally just playing video games. 

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be so lucky to be with a man who loved me unconditionally. All my life, that’s really all I’ve ever wanted and all I’ve never had. I’ve just kinda hoped that with all the good that I do for the men I fall in love with, they would see beyond what I look like. It just remind me of my friend who would go on dates through tinder and told me that she would see their reactions drop when they saw her body. I always thought it could have been her attitude that left these guys skipping out on the follow up.  I feel like I have too much faith in some people, hoping they aren’t as shallow as they are made out to be. Yet here I am, perfect example of a woman who wants something beyond the physical and I have yet to find it because of what I look like. I don’t think I’m the worse human being. I have some faults in my life but for the most part, I'm decent. 

I kind of went off on this, a lot of inner thoughts that have been floating along in my mind. Not what I was expecting at all. 

#personal journal