#tracks 1-3 are about the hope of coming somewhere new for the first time and sort of feeling all happy about this new phase in your life

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 6

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* brief mentions of medical procedures/accidents, protective Max, imaginary friend nostalgia, telephone anxiety, secrets revealed. Summary: An important conversation with Max takes more sharp and unexpected turns that a labyrinth and is followed by even more revelations from another source. Notes:  Again, deep apologies for the erratic posting this week. I swear we're back on track now!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

The developing rhythm of the days is overtaken with masquerade planning, and it occurs to you somewhere in the first few days of going through decorations and flyer wording with Allison, Tracy, and Candance, that what you're doing here isn't that far off from the life of one of the Gilded Age hostesses that you're imitating with your party theme. Tonight is for relaxing, however, as Dancing with the Stars night has come around again. There was a lot of debating back and forth with yourself but here you are standing outside of Max's room at ten minutes before eight and shaking in your stylish yet affordable boots while you knock – unsure if you're hoping that he's been looking forward to tonight or if you'll be surprised if he even gave it any thought.

There is no answer after the first knock, and his door is closed, so you're left with a dilemma: try again and be disappointed when it seems as though you're being ignored...or just give up after one try and go watch your show alone like you would have done otherwise. Like you would have done before Max watched with you last week and shared a part of himself with you on that couch. Before he insisted on being your escort to the masquerade. Before he danced with you in the ballroom. Before you think he was about to kiss you. It's the culmination of everything that gives you the smallest semblance of hope, and you knock again – a little louder – only to receive no answer all over again.

With your head hanging a little lower, you take yourself to the sitting room alone and turn on the tv.

******

"Cutting it close Max." Mrs. Taylor tuts at him as Max rushes around the kitchen.

"I know, I know." He hisses as he tries to make sure the hot chocolate has the perfect ratio of cream to chocolate. Nearly burning his blood that is warming up in the process. Burnt blood stinks and he can't waste the few minutes that he has before the show starts trying to air out the kitchen. "I couldn't watch it with her without snacks, though."

"She liked the tray you brought up last week that much?" The housekeeper makes no effort to hide her smile as she cleans up the kitchen from prepping tomorrow morning's breakfast. She found a new baked French toast recipe that soaks overnight that she thinks you will love.

“She ate it.” That is a high praise in his mind because all this food tastes like shit to him. The point for him is to make you feel good.

"Then you had better get going." The clock on the wall reads three minutes until the hour and she smiles privately as Max hurries to finish when he realizes the time.

"I know, I know." As soon as the hot chocolate is on the tray, along with his own cup of blood, Max is out of sight. Using that speed to make it from the kitchen in the basement to the floor where you are in less than a few seconds. Having to take extra time to keep the hot chocolate from spilling or the snacks from rattling around too much. "Good, I made it." He huffs like he’s out of breath when he comes into the sitting room to find you already curled up on the sofa like before.

“Max?” Even though you practically jump three feet in the air when he appears — you didn’t hear him coming — the smile on your face is a complete betrayal of how glad you are to see him. With his tray of snacks in hand Once more, you immediately scoot over on the sofa to make room for him. “I…went to knock on your door to see if you wanted to watch with me again. When you didn’t answer…” you shrug instead of finishing your thought, mostly just relieved to have been wrong.

“Sorry.” Max shoots you a small grin. “I was down in the kitchen. I realized about ten minutes before that I hadn’t figured out the snack situation.”

“I wasn’t sure if after…the other night…” It was two days ago that you’d danced in the ballroom together and somehow you could still swear that you feel his hand on your back. But that’s not to be dwelled on, and you shake your head to pitch the thought away. “Never mind. Come and sit down?”

“Gladly.” Max sets the tray down and picks up the hot chocolate to hand to you. “Who’s your money on tonight?”

“Jason Mraz did really well last week, but the Marvel actress might be a ringer. It’s hard to tell if it’s that, or just that she’s young and picking it up quickly.” The smell of the cocoa is already a sense memory locked away in your mind, and you inhale happily before telling yourself it’s far too hot to take a sip right away. Mrs. Taylor had made you cocoa one afternoon this past week but — you hate to admit — it didn’t hold a candle to Max’s. “Latin Night is always fun, though. Somebody’s Cha Cha is bound to go wildly wrong.”

“Cha Cha is so hard to do when you don’t have natural rhythm.” Max snorts and waggles his brows at you playfully. “Not everyone has it like me and you.”

It feels like he’s flirting with you — if you can even remember what flirting feels like anymore — and before you can even blink your cheeks are flushed hot in response. “It’s not fair, ya know,” you mumble sheepishly. “My competitions were filmed. But…after you said it…I looked for yours. They weren’t.”

“No, they wouldn’t have been.” Max smirks slightly, pleased that you had been searching for his own videos. “Romanian Ballroom Dancing competitions aren’t filmed.” He snorts. “Kind of like Russian Ballet practices I guess.”

“Is that in case Dracula shows up?” You snort slightly at your own joke and take a first sip of the cocoa he’s brought you. It’s just as amazing as you remember and you hum happily at the rich, creamy taste.

He chuckles and shrugs. “Maybe, you never know. Or maybe it’s not filmed since vampires couldn’t show up on old film? Since it was processed with silver back in the day? Tradition, I guess.”

“Ballroom dancing vampires.” Another soft laugh escapes you and you reach for a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl he brought. “That would be a sight to see. Imagine a vampire doing a Viennese waltz? That sounds like it would be the most elegant thing in the world.”

There’s a moment where Max considers telling you. Like this is the segue into the ‘I’m a vampire’ conversation that he wants him to have with you. “Very elegant.” He hums. “As if they are gliding.” Call him a coward, but he’s gotten used to your warmth and he doesn’t want to have you terrified of him just yet.

“Maybe you should be a vampire for the masquerade, then.” It’s bold, at least for you. To joke and tease and flirt like this. For so many years this kind of behavior simply wasn’t allowable in your life. But with Max — and even with Eddie and Renee and everyone else in this house — it’s like the old parts of your personality are starting to come back to life.

“That will be easy.” Max grins. “Does that mean you’ll be the Vampire Bride?” He asks. “Big, blood red gown with a veil?”

“I bet I can find an old wedding gown at a thrift store and get some red fabric dye at the craft shop in town.” It sounds silly and light, and like the kind of thing that would have made you laugh a long time ago. What you won’t do is let yourself have any illusions about it meaning anything to Max. Eventually you’ll have to admit to yourself that you have a crush on him, but not just yet.

“You should ask Mrs. Taylor to take you to the dress room.” Max snorts. “Use one of Ms. Brown’s dresses.”

“There is a dress room?” Suddenly this knowledge is far more important than the fact that the show is starting, and your eyes widen at Max. “Is that where the dresses we wore last week came from?”

“I assume so.” Max shrugs. “One of the storage rooms in the attic is where Mrs. Taylor has everything.”

“This house is insane.” You huff, shaking your head and turning to the tv for a moment before looking back at Max. “Everybody seems to be very into vampires around here. I think it sounds fun for costumes. A—as long as you do.”

“No reason not to be into vampires.” Max snorts with a small smirk.

“I guess I’ll have to see what’s in the dress room.” Returning his smile seems so much easier than you had thought it could be, even just a few days ago.

He chuckles and nods towards the tv. “Op, here’s our first contestants on ‘Who’s Gonna Twist An Ankle’.” He adopts a smarmy TV persona voice just to see if you will laugh. It earns a snort and a giggle from you, and you pull your sweater around your shoulders and shift unconsciously closer to him. He isn’t a warmth so much as he feels safe, which is a welcome change from the brash teasing of the first few days of knowing him. “Christ, look at those heels.” Max winces when he sees the clunky shoes on the female performer. “She’s gonna break an ankle, not twist one.”

"I always liked the sequined and bedazzled sneakers on the swing dancers at my studio in high school." You muse, comfortable enough to get lost in a memory while you sip your cocoa beside him. "I swore up and down that I was going to start competing in swing, too. Just to get some."

“Those are cool looking.” He nods as he watches the screen, hyper aware of you beside him and he’s happy your pulse is nice and slow. You’re relaxed. “You know, you could always start up again. You have the perfect practice area.”

"I have nothing but time, I guess." Right now you spend all your time reading, with the girls from the coven, or planning the masquerade. You really have become like an upper-class Gilded Age lady in no time flat. "But..." Glancing over at him, you find his attention on the tv and not on you, which makes you bury your face behind the mug again. "Lessons are always...they're awkward unless you have a good partner."

“So you find yourself a good partner.” He makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world and it honestly is. It just requires you to ask him.

The moment of quiet that stretches between you is where you struggle with yourself. Personal inner strength hasn't exactly been a strong suit of yours in the last few years – or more – and you don't really know if he'll accept if you ask him anyway. Being so afraid of the question means that you start to shift nervously beside him until finally the show's first commercial break blasts across the screen and you scrub both of your eyes with the meat of your palms. It doesn't have to be romantic. You don't even know if it should be romantic at all. But you know you won't enjoy dancing with anybody else nearly as much. Not if the other night was any indication. "If you're too busy or you don't want to find a studio with me, I would totally understand..." you manage, not quite able to look him in the eyes. "But dancing with you was...it was really natural."

“It was, wasn’t it?” Max grins and turns to face you. “Like it was meant to be.”

“You…don’t mind?” That surprises you more than it probably should. Especially because he actually sounds happy about it.

"Dancing with you?" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Why would I mind?" He asks seriously. "It was the most fun I've had in years."

“I’m just…” When you blow out a breath it feels a lot more self-deprecating than you mean it to be. You were only trying to state a fact. “Not usually people’s first choice.”

"Not people's first choice or not your ex's first choice?" Max asks, wanting to know why you think so lowly of yourself. To see how badly this asshole damaged your self-esteem.

“I already told you.” Curling in on yourself again is instinct, and your eyes drop to the pillow you’ve been holding in your lap. “The night I met him I had gotten stood up at a bar. So it’s clearly not just him.”

"Do you know who stood you up?" You had said it was a blind date, so maybe it’s one of those issues like 'fuck the dude got into a car accident' or something.

“It was a friend of a friend. Some guy that my roommate was taking her art history elective with that she said was so cute and so my type.” You shrug again, burying deeper on yourself. “She said he agreed to it and then dropped off the face of the planet. Stopped coming to class and everything. But…at the time I didn’t care as much. I’d met Derek instead.” Now though…for years now…you’ve wondered time and time again what that guy would have been like and how your life would have been different if he had showed up. “Probably took one look at me through the windows and decided he’d rather drop out than have to have a drink with me.”

Max frowns and shifts in his seat. The memory almost completely obscure and faded through time. There had been other pressing matters, other things that had consumed him that he had completely forgotten about it. He hadn't meant to, but the idea that he was supposed to meet you the day that he had been expelled shakes him to his core.

“What?” The frown on his face makes you frown even more deeply, and the impulse to smooth away the furrow between his eyebrows with your thumbs has to be squelched immediately.

"It's— it's nothing." He shrugs casually, or in a way that is supposed to appear casually. "It's not like your roommate was Shandra Taylor or something."

Now it’s your brow that furrows, the deep ridges marked with confusion. “You knew my roommate?” It’s not impossible, of course. You went to the same college during overlapping years. He could have known Shandra. She was exceptionally outgoing and kind, lots of people knew her.

Max blows out a breath, completely fabricated but he enjoys the little nuances that remind him of human life. “I knew her.” He shakes his head. “You were supposed to meet the blind date at that shitty little bar down from the dorms, right? The ones with the great wings and darts?”

“Bowen’s…” It’s not like it’s a difficult guess, considering that particular bar was a frequent haunt of Vanderbilt students. They notoriously ‘forgot’ to ID so undergrads loved it there.

Max closes his eyes and drops his head into his hand. “In October, that Friday the 13th?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer but he gives a small chuckle. “I promise you I didn’t take one look at you and run away.” He huffs. “That’s the day I was expelled.”

“Oh gods…” The way that idea twists in your gut is haunting, making you feel instantly sick as you shrink back in your seat — a move that accidentally spills cocoa on your sweater and you curse and apologize for the mess as though you’d gotten it on him and not yourself. “Fuck— sorry. I’m so sorry, I—shit—” Your breathing picks up as you start to panic, pulling off your sweater in the process and curling in on yourself on the couch beside him while your mind spirals. It was him. It was Max. He was supposed to meet you. It was Max—

“Hey, hey.” Max doesn’t know how to interpret the fact that you are about to have a panic attack, but he doesn’t like it. He takes you by the shoulders, turning you towards him and ignoring the way you flinch. Looking into your horrified eyes and trying to ignore the way his dead heart clenches, he starts to speak. “Calm down.” He tells you slowly, using his powers of suggestion. “Breathe slowly. In.” He pretends to inhale. “And out.” He slowly exhales even though air does nothing for him. “Everything is fine…”

The calm that washes over you is instant and consuming, even if being told to calm down doesn’t usually help at all. This time it seems to be the magic charm of the whole situation, and you feel yourself relaxing easily in his grip. “I’m sorry…” you murmur, squeezing your eyes shut tight and slumping softly against him with your sweater balled up in your hands. “I just—I’ve spent years wondering what happened…and thinking of it as something awful that happened to me. And that’s so fucking selfish when I finally know what a terrible thing happened to you that day…”

“You didn’t know.” He reminds you quietly. His hand on your arm and stroking the back of it lightly. “You couldn’t have known. Shandra didn’t know what happened.”

“I’m so sorry.” Not a single second of your own unhappiness stands up to the way his life was basically ruined in one fell swoop, and you wish you were brave enough to push past self-consciousness and hug him.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Max promises, giving you a vulnerable half smile. “You didn’t do it. I just wish I hadn’t stood you up that night. I just— I completely blanked out on it.” He admits.

"You had much more important things on your mind." Life changing things. Although now you can't imagine all the ways your life would have been different if you had met that night.

“I still shouldn’t have stood you up.” If he had known then what he knows now, there’s no way he would have missed that date. His thumb rubs over your birthmark gently.

"Sorry." The instinct is immediate once again, and you move to put your sweater back on to cover the birthmark that Derek had hated so much.

“What are you sorry for this time?” Max huffs, smirking at you slightly and not letting you move out of his embrace.

“The—my—I mean—” Letting out an exaggerated sigh at your own very clear trauma responses (you know what they are, you’re self-aware enough to realize), you shake your head when Max doesn’t let go of you. “Derek hated my birth mark,” you explain quietly. “He was completely anti-soulmate. So I got used to covering it. You just…you touched it a second ago. That’s all.”

“Probably because the motherfucker didn’t have one.” Max sneers, his opinion of your ex falling even lower than it had been, and it was in the dirt. It sounds like this asshole wouldn’t even be a man Max would eat. He would just rip his throat out. “Can I see it?” He asks quietly. This is the moment. If you say no, he won’t press. If you say yes, you’ll learn that he’s your soulmate.

“Um…sure, I guess…” It’s just an oddly shaped set of marks in your skin that your mother insisted looked like a clover, but you just always thought it was a little muddled. Maybe roughly diamond shaped if you squint. Not sure why he would care, you turn in your seat to let him see the back of your right shoulder where the marks have sat your whole life.

“There it is.” Max swallows, his mouth suddenly dry when he sees your mark as a human. “Do you think it’s more diamond or clover shaped?” He asks you, tracing it with his finger. “I always thought diamonds because they are expensive.”

“I’ve kind of thought it was more of a diamond but my—” His comment registers just a moment too late and you pause. “Always?”

His eyes watch you carefully as he nods. “Always.” He confirms softly.

“What do you…?” Straightening up again, your head tilts uncertainly.

Max bites his lip and stands up. He knows he will have to show you. Already out of his suit jacket, he starts to unbutton his vest. “Always wondered what they looked like on someone else.” He admits as he shrugs out of it and starts to undo his cufflinks.

“Max…” Watching him undo himself is a level of arousing that you hadn’t expected, but it’s far more confusing because you’re trying to wrap your head around what he’s saying to you.

“If you are disappointed, I’ll understand.” He tells you, wanting you to know that despite the marks that he shares with you, he doesn’t expect you to do anything. Not when you just got away from a monster. Ironic, coming from him.

When his shirt is finally moved aside, your gasp fills the room loudly enough to drown out even the applause on television. “Oh gods…” It’s right there — the relatively small marks look bigger on his skin but they’re unmistakable. Max is wearing your mark. “I—but—how?” You manage, holding your breath and trying to contain yourself so you don’t reach out and touch him without permission. “I lost my soulmate’s marks four years ago. How do you still have mine?”

Here comes the part that you aren’t going to believe. “There’s an explanation for it, but, you’re going to think I’m nuts.” You frown slightly, but you don’t say anything so he continues. “I—uh, I died four years ago. I mean, I was destroyed. And when I was brought back…all my tattoos and shit, scars, they were gone.”

“You…died and were brought back?” Chewing on your bottom lip, you can’t quite fathom what the hell he might mean by that but all that comes to mind is those fast-paced scenes from medical dramas. “Were you…in an accident or something?” It wouldn’t explain how his scars and tattoos are all gone unless…you suppose skin grafts would explain it. But that’s a lot of skin grafts.

“Not exactly.” He gives a wry grin, looking down at you with a small shrug. “I got staked.” It still irritates him how Evan won, but he could admit he got cocky. Made mistakes. At least he was brought back for a second chance.

“Sure. Sure. Of course.” Once it finally registers with you what he’s said, and that he’s decided to make up a story instead of telling you the truth, your heart sinks. The evidence that Max is your soulmate is right there on his skin, but as he buttons his shirt back up you frown that he clearly isn’t taking this seriously. “You were staked but somehow came back. How did I not think of that?”

He can hear the sarcasm in your voice, seeing the way your eyes clearly display your disbelief. “Well, how else do you kill a vampire?”

The way your heart clenches and then deflates is nearly instant. It’s broken without even realizing he had the power to break it. Finally seeing your birthmark on someone else’s skin has been your literal dream — and to be teased about it makes you feel like you should have just stayed in Tennessee with Derek. “Sure.” You murmur, shaking your head in disbelief and aching sadness. “You’re a vampire. Of course.”

“I am a vampire, Queenie.” Max had never flashed his fangs casually since he’s been brought back, and it feels foreign to let them slide down. Exposing the razor-sharp incisors to you.

“Fuck!” Surprised and more than a little scared, the way you jump backward on the couch would easily be called recoiling by anyone else. But it’s more about utter confusion on your part, if you’re honest. Witches exist, yes. And ghosts. And folk magic. But vampires? They were supposed to be one of those things that was fabricated by humans.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Max’s fangs disappear the second you recoil in horror. Stepping back from you to give you more space. “I just— didn’t want you thinking I was lying.” He sighs, looking down at his shiny loafers and then glancing back up at you. “I wouldn’t lie to you. Not my soulmate.”

“How…how long?” While your mind works to keep up with the information you’ve just been given, your heart aches at the way Max has reacted to your understandable shock. It’s a lot all at once and you’re reeling from overload. But evidence is evidence, and you can’t get much more concrete evidence of vampires being real than having your soulmate be one. “I— want to understand.”

Max keeps his distance, making sure that he doesn’t move. He knows that he can move quicker than you can see, or react to, but this is about making you feel safe. You haven’t run away in terror, so he’s taking that as a good sign. “When I was kicked out of Vanderbilt…the only college that would accept me was in Romania.” He tells you, snorting slightly. “You would think they wouldn’t lean into the legends, but you’d be wrong. The MBA program was run by vampires and I was— well, to graduate, you have to become one.”

“That sounds…simple.” Unexpectedly simple. In all honesty you had expected a long tale about illness or an accident and being offered the chance to pull through. Maybe it’s because of its simplicity that you’re inclined to believe it. It has none of the theatrics of good storytelling which makes it all the more likely to come from real life.

“I guess it does.” Max snorts. “My sire turned me and when I was…staked, he brought me back.” He’s surprised that you are still talking, but maybe it’s not that you don’t completely disbelieve him.

“That…seems less simple?” If you’re going to choose to believe him — which it seems like you are because you aren’t running and something in the back of your head is warming subtly but you can’t explain it for anything in the world. “Staking is supposed to be…it? That’s…in the stories, anyway?” Blowing out a breath, you sigh and trying to resettle yourself. “There are going to be a lot of questions.”

“As far as I knew, it was.” Max admits. “But he could and did bring me back. He’s a powerful vampire.”

“So…you’re…” Breathe. Remember to breathe. “You’re…not alive?” It’s almost an afterthought, the way your mind is starting to connect dots. “I guess…that explains why your hands are always kind of cold. I just figured you had bad circulation.”

“Technically.” He huffs, grinning slightly. “My heart hasn’t beat since I was changed. It won’t…until.”

“Until?” You prompt. That isn’t exactly something you just trail off on.

“There’s something that makes a vampire’s heart beat for a moment.” Max nods, as if that reinforces the statement. “A vampire’s soulmate can make their heart beat for a split second.”

To say you are incredulous would be generous, but the entire situation has you incredulous. Not just him. “I would say that I’ve never heard that before, but I’ve also only ever heard of vampires having soulmates in romance novels.”

“Well…now you have.” He wonders what you are thinking but for once, your eyes aren’t giving away what you are thinking.

“So…what is it?” You ask, shifting on the sofa a little to face him. The show and everything else have been forgotten. The only thing that matters tonight is this conversation.

“What makes our heart beat?” He asks, wondering what you would say to the answer. “A kiss.”

“As simple as that?” Years ago, you might have considered it a cheesy pickup line. Or at least cute, seasonally-themed one. But the story that Allison told you at the bonfire and the fact that Max has fangs are tied together in your mind.

“Simple as that.” He shrugs. “Or so I’ve been told. I don’t know if it’s true or not.” He bites his lip and sighs. “There’s also something else you need to know.”

“More than that you have my mark, you’re apparently a vampire, and you got revived after being staked?” More seems impossible. But considering you’re the daughter of witches living in the mansion of a mystery relative you never met who simply left you everything in her will? Sure. Let’s go for more. “What is it?”

“You know the bat that’s been visiting you?” Max shoves his hands in his pants pockets and shrugs his shoulders slightly, giving you a sheepish look.

“How do you know about that?” You know the girls from the coven haven’t mentioned it, and you haven’t told a soul. It had felt a little too silly to admit to anyone.

“Because…” he shrugs again. “It’s me.”

“It’s a bat.” Somehow this is truly the thing that you can’t wrap your head around, only associating bats with vampires because of the Dracula story — a novel. It isn’t real just like novels about witches aren’t real. The truth is always a bit different than those pages portray.

"Yeah." He nods, "a really cute bat that you call Cutie."

Your eyes widen, mouth falling open, and an instant later you’re sinking deeper into the couch in embarrassment. “That’s…how I’ve ended up in bed…” you murmur, disbelief evident in your voice. “The nights that I could swear I fall asleep on the chaise and then next morning I wake up in bed?”

"Yes." Max can see that you are curling in on yourself and he hates that. "I just— I didn't want you to be uncomfortable." He explains lamely. "I didn't – it wasn't anything, uh, touchy or anything."

It’s almost too much information, the facts at least how they have been presented to you, are working in your mind and clouding a deeply buried instinct of trust. As if the mark on your shoulder that binds the two of you together has reached into your consciousness and turned your mind on to all many of extra possibilities. Composing yourself enough to pick up the remote and turn off the tv, you blow out a puff of air like you’re somehow knocking the dust out of your mind. “I’ve…been reading to you almost every night. The bonfire at Mabon…the night last week when I just made up stories?” Every time you wake up in bed instead of in your chair. Every time he’s snuggled up to you in bat form and trilled happily, he understood every word you said to him. “That means…you saw my birthmark two days ago.”

He nods slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he tries to figure out what the fuck you are thinking. How you are coping with this. "I did." He snorts. "Damn near fell out of the air."

“This is…kind of insane.” Yet, somehow, you don’t actually think he’s lying. That is the strangest part of all.

He decides that the best way to prove this is to prove it. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and winks at you. There's no poof of smoke, no sound. One minute Max the human is standing there, and the next, Max the bat is flapping his wings in the air in front of you.

“Oh my god!” It happens so fast that you barely have time to react, but you cover your mouth with both hands and nearly shriek when your little bat friend is hovering in front of you as clear as day where Max was just standing. “Ohhh gods…it’s…it’s been you this whole time?” You manage to sound insistent and authoritative but only just.

He squeaks and then finds that he would rather talk to you as a human, so in the blink of an eye, Max is standing in front of you again. Rolling his shoulders slightly to work out the feeling of wings as he hums. "It's been me."

“Does anyone else know?” This time when you shift on the couch it’s to make room for him. If witches are real, and folk magic is real, and apparently vampires are too? Then you have questions.

"That I'm a bat? Or that I'm your soulmate?" He asks, unsure of which conversation you want to have.

“Both?” He seems to want to talk about them one at a time, though, so you swallow down your nerves and try to go about this in a rational way. “Vampire first. Soulmate second.”

"Um...." he shrugs, "Everyone?" He tells you. "I've not exactly hidden what I am. As far as the soulmate thing? No one but my sire."

“Everyone knows?” You just can’t believe that, along with everything else. It’s too out there. “Eddie knows? Mrs. Taylor knows?”

Max doesn't know if he had wanted him to tell you everything, but he's not going to lie. "They do." He nods. "Of course they know."

Suddenly the raw beef appetizers and blue rare steaks come back into your mind and you could just slap yourself for not seeing clues earlier. Although, technically? No one could blame you for not assuming your roommate is a vampire. “So you can eat regular food, then? You don’t only…drink blood?”

"I can eat regular food, but I prefer blood." Max grimaces. "Most food, like that orange cake thing the other week, tastes almost rancid. But it’s more palatable if its raw. Or has blood in it."

“Okay…” you nod slightly and are slightly mollified when he sits down beside you on the couch again. “I’m sorry if I’m asking a lot of questions, I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

"You can ask me anything." He promises, settling out amongst the cushions and looking at you expectantly. "Hit me with your best shots."

“So…” Of all the three thousand questions in your mind, you try to pick just one to start with and end up floundering until you can pull in the thread of a thought. “You don’t speak to your family anymore but Eddie said you were adopted brothers. Does that…mean he’s a vampire, too?”

"Bingo." Max knew you were smart, that you are so much smarter than you think that you are. "We are 'brothers' because we were turned by the same vampire. But actually, Eddie is older than I am. He was turned in the nineties."

“So it’s just…non-biological family? Like your sire is your new father?” There’s something instinctively human about that, but you won’t say so. Not when you’re trying to get your facts straight.

"Kind of." He nods. "Eddie was, is more human than vampire at times. He was here before I arrived. And our sire thought he could teach me a few things. Like how to be a better human I guess."

“He eats more than you.” It was something that you had noticed and just filled away under likely useless knowledge, but Max never eats much at dinner unless it’s on the raw side and never shares the snacks he brings you. At most he’ll have a drink. A drink. You glance at his mug now and then back at him. “Is that blood?” You ask, extremely tentatively, looking back at the mug again. It’s a black mug with a lid and dark liquid inside so it’s impossible to tell what’s in it.

"Yes." He admits quickly. "Normally we would have ‘wine’ with dinner," he even uses air quotes. "So I would just be a person who preferred a dark cab. But I have to admit that I like those double walled tumblers. Keeps it warmer longer."

“That…” You groan, annoyed with yourself for having gotten in the way of things you didn’t understand. “That’s why you got upset that Mrs. Taylor hasn’t been serving wine with dinner. Not because you wanted alcohol. I’m so sorry.”

"Don't worry about that." Max shrugs slightly. "I understand why you don't like alcohol." He clenches his fist at the thought of someone hurting you in a drunken rage. Even if it was to make you cry. "It's not like you knew that the wine was non-alcoholic."

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” you promise him immediately, wanting to set things right. “It’s not fair that I get to eat whenever or wherever I want to and you can’t.”

"Don't." Max shakes his head, almost reaching out to touch you, but he's afraid you will recoil. "It's been okay with just having it in mugs or tumblers." He doesn't want you uncomfortable. It's a strange thing for him, considering his past, but Max wants to make sure that your comfort is the primary priority. "I won't die eating a rare steak."

“Max…” When he takes his hand back you instinctively feel yourself reaching forward, trying to close that gap for the two of you. Who knows if it’s more for him or more for you. “I may not…really understand this, but I do understand that even if you never want to be more than platonic soulmates, we’re still connected. And we live together. So some adjustments are going to have to get made if we’re both going to be comfortable.”

"I'm not—" He shakes his head. "I want you to be comfortable." He murmurs quietly. "I'm not a 'platonic' kind of man, right? But you— you've obviously been through a lot and despite some thinking I'm a douchebag, I'm not the type to fucking push myself on someone. Especially a woman I'm supposed to love and protect." He almost feels like he's trying to convince his parents that he didn't cheat, begging them to believe him. Instead, this time he's begging you to believe that he's not the type of man, vampire to ever push you for more than you wanted to give him.

“I want you to be comfortable.” Which puts you at an odd sort of stand still, if you’re honest, but that’s okay. At least, it’s a hell of a lot better than what you’ve had before. “I don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you. Hell, I don’t even know what I’d do if you said you wanted a relationship. It’s— I don’t expect you to say that, obviously, and I— I don’t know. Considering what I just got out of, I’m probably a terrible person to even think of like that.”

"Why?" Max frowns and shakes his head. "This asshole you were with obviously mistreated you. Abused you. You were probably emotionally detached from the relationship for months, maybe years before it ended." He had listened during the psychology classes he had to take. He had just pretended that it was just to get inside clients and competitors’ heads, to get an edge in business, but he had always been curious about the human condition. There were plenty of 'self help' books he had read during those sleepless hours. Theres only so many hours you can surf porn. "You are—" he huffs. "You're beautiful and kind. Caring. You deserve to be happy."

“Emotionally detached doesn’t mean I wasn’t still there every day. Dealing with the anger and the threats and whatever else he feels like dishing out that day. It’s just…” You want so badly to take his hand, but fear is a very real thing for you in this moment. Being unsure and afraid means your fingertips barely bump his before you’re worried about overstepping. “You shouldn’t have to deal with a partner who could crack or break down at any time. And at this point my list of triggers is a mile long. I’m broken.” And that fact has you near tears just from the simple fact of it, but you have to do your best to blink them away. “You deserve so much better than that.”

"You aren't broken." Max hisses, trying very hard to control his anger. It wouldn’t be directed at you, but at the bastard that had convinced you that you were somehow lacking because he had been. "No one broken would have the strength to travel to a new place and start their life over." He growls. "No one broken would accept the strange circumstances they are faced with. You damn sure wouldn't be as kind and giving as you are. If you're broken, you can't possibly dance the way that you do. You couldn't."

“I feel broken, then.” Sniffling quietly, you wipe away an escaped tear with the hand that isn’t near his. “And I have no idea how long it will take me to not feel that way.”

Max can't help but reach in, hating how you are crying because of him. His fingers brushing yours and he's happy that you don't pull away in fear as he wipes the tear away. "I'm a vampire, sweetheart." He reminds you with a quiet chuckle. "I've got eternity if that's what it takes."

It’s cheesy and sweet, and you crack a smile when his cold hand touches your warm skin. “Would you really do that?”

“What else do I have to do?” Max asks softly, grinning back at you. “I don’t—I was always wondering about my soulmate. I have been drawn to you.”

"I kind of...brushed it off in the beginning," you admit with a note of guilt in your voice. "Tried to tell myself if it's just that you're my type and I shouldn't think that you're cute because you're my roommate. But...this sort of changes things."

“Don’t worry about what you did or what you might do.” Max protests. “I’m not going to yell at you. Mrs. Taylor would tear me apart.”

"She might have a little trouble with that." A small chuckle escapes you, unable to believe the reality of the situation. But Max's cool hand in yours is very real proof. "With you being a vampire and all."

"Not as much trouble as you might think." After all, the housekeeper is a much older vampire than he is. He doesn't even know how long she had been working for him and Cookie.

“No!” The implication of that and the amused smile on his face has you sitting up in surprise. “Mrs. Taylor, too? Is everyone here a vampire and I was just completely oblivious?”

“We try very hard to not make it obvious.” Max excuses your oversight easily. “But you are the only person with a pulse on this estate.”

“I—” Somehow this time it’s amusing that you didn’t know instead of concerning, and you huff out a laugh. “Cookie knew, right? She had to have known.”

“Of course she knew.” Max snorts. “Hard to not know when her soulmate was also a vampire.”

You have never been so acutely aware of your breath as you are when you’re blowing out a sigh in front of a man you now know to be a vampire and you shake your head in that age-old signal of disbelief. “The story Alli told me was true, then? About the witch and her vampire soulmate and all that…gods I feel like such an idiot.”

“It’s true.” He nods, smiling slightly. “Cookie was a powerful witch. And her soulmate is my sire.” It seems like an important piece of information for you to have.

“This just gives me so many more questions.” You admit, laughing quietly. “But I guess…having a vampire for a soulmate runs in the family.”

“I guess.” He doesn’t know why he had wanted you to have a vampire soulmate, but that is a question you can ask him. “I know it’s a lot.”

"It is." And you won't pretend otherwise. That would be worse than disingenuous, given that this is your soulmate and these are the people around you. This is your entire life now. And honestly? You don't want to change it. Which is a whole other issue you will grapple with privately – the fact that some of the nicest people you've ever met are vampires seems to go against every story about the creatures that has ever been told. "But I have my baggage and you have yours. It's...it's honestly not nearly as bad as how some other people have it. Or even anywhere near as bad as my last relationship."

“Do you want me to kill him?” Max asks. “I normally don’t waste food, but it seems like he would taste disgusting.”

The question is startling but not necessarily out of bounds, but you shake your head without even giving it consideration. “I’ll be happier if I can just forget he ever existed,” you tell Max honestly.

“Okay, but you let me know if you change your mind.” He insists.

“I’m not going to ask you to kill someone.” The idea is too much to even fathom and you shake your head again. “Is that…do I want to ask how you all get your blood?”

“Blood bank.” Max smirks. “Or donors. Willing donors.” He adds. “We don’t really have to skulk in shadows and trick people into giving us their blood in today’s society.

“That’s reassuring.” It’s downright relieving, actually, because with your hand in his you don’t really want to think about how he’s had to survive.

He doesn’t mention that he used to play with his food before. The new lease on life or immortality he had been given had come with a ‘sanctity of life’ outlook. He didn’t think you would be okay with him as your soulmate if he kept eating people anyway. “Absolutely.” He gives you an innocent grin.

"This has been an...enlightening night. To say the least." All of the information weighs on you and on your mind, making you feel heavy but in a very different way than the heaviness would feel when someone like Derek used to be upset with you. It's different. Like you know this time it will all settle.

“I’m sorry that your show has been ruined.” Max glances at the clock and realizes that the entire show has ended.

"You're more important than a tv show." There isn't a single note of hesitation in your voice and you give his hand a small squeeze. "And that will always be true. I always said that if I ever met my soulmate that they would be my first priority in everything. I'm standing by that."

It’s been a long time, maybe even never, when someone put Max above anything else. It’s oddly sweet and he looks down at your hand in his. “I—okay.” He nods quietly. “What else do you want to know?”

"Is there anything you want me to know? Or anything you want to know about me?" He looks so surprised that you would make him a priority that you have to wonder if his parents weren't the first people to not have faith in him. Which is pretty heartbreaking, and unfortunately you know exactly how it feels.

He frowns, hating the next part, so he huffs slightly. “Being that I’m—well, dead technically, if we ever got to the point of…intimacy…” He breaks off and looks down at your hands again. “I can’t give you kids.”

That...is a very good point. And one you hadn't thought of. But since it seems to upset him you're not going to harp on it. Not even a little bit. "Well, I think you know I like pets a whole lot," you joke, laughing softly. No one knows that better about you right now than he does. "When we get to that point, it will all be fine."

He gauges your eyes, wanting to see if you are just telling him what he wants to hear and when he finds that you are serious, he chuckles. “Okay.” He nods. “I’ll get you a real pet bat then.”

"I looked it up," you can't help but grin, a slightly guilty laugh coming out of you. "They're kind of illegal to have, and you can get rabies from petting them. You were just...too cute to resist."

“Well, I don’t have rabies.” He snorts and pretends to look offended. “So I’ll change into a bat when you’re missing Cutie.”

"Is it cheesy to say you're cuter like this?" It feels cheesy, and it definitely feels presumptuous to say, but it's out of your mouth now and there's nothing you can do about it.

“Yeah?” Max preens, smugly grinning like he’s just struck the winning lottery ticket. “It’s not cheesy at all, sweetheart.”

"The suits are nice, too," you mumble, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks at both the admittance and his obvious glee hearing it.

“They are nice.” He admits, scooting a bare inch closer to you. “Tailored is the way to go. Better quality than off the rack stuff.”

"I'll have to trust you on that." From warm to burning, your cheeks get hotter instantly, and you duck your eyes away for a second to bite back an unaccustomed smile. "You have much better fashion sense than me."

“Doubtful.” He tuts, shaking his head. “I saw your competition outfits and you can’t tell me you didn’t design them.”

“I learned a little bit from my mother,” you admit with a shrug. It won’t do any good to tell him that Derek had you on strict allowance after always making you use your paycheck for bills and groceries and his beer. The few new things you’ve bought in Newport are the first clothes you’ve had not from a church basement in years. “But I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten it all now.”

"Then it will be fun remembering it all." Max reasons, making it sound simple. He has a good idea from your reaction why you are insisting that you don't have fashion sense, but you also need to remember that you have more money that you could possibly spend in one shopping spree.

“I trust you to pick.” The submission is so easy, so ingrained, that you don’t even think about it. Which speaks volumes about the kind of dictation you’ve been living under. “Whatever you want me to wear is fine.”

"What if we picked together?" He's sure that you have natural style, but you've been so stifled, it's almost natural to repress it. He wants you to start realizing that you can do whatever you want.

“Is that something you would want to do?” You would never go so far as to consider it a date, but spending more time with him after this newfound revelation has an undeniable appeal. You’ve liked Max almost since the beginning. This is an extraordinary next step to take.

"It's not like I would hate it." Max doesn't want you to feel obligated, but he gives a small shrug. "I know the coven has been showing you around, but maybe they haven't taken you everywhere."

"We certainly haven't been clothes shopping." Somehow you can't imagine Max even in a regular mall, but shopping with him sounds like it might be all the more fun for it. A unique experience. "I..." you chuckle softly. "I have nothing but free time these days."

He smirks slightly, finding it ironic that you have the life of leisure while he had work. He was the one that was immortal. "That's not a bad thing, Queenie."

"I'm still getting used to it." Though you highly doubt that you ever truly will, if it will make him less embarrassed to be seen with him you will definitely work harder on your wardrobe.

"Nothing wrong with that." He chuckles. "I can imagine it's hard to go from worrying about your hours, your pay, to not having to anymore."

"I'm honestly kind of surprised to hear that you still work as hard as you do," you admit. "In the stories, vampires are always fabulously wealthy."

"I'm still a baby vamp." Max snorts, shrugging slightly. "Those vampires are also hundreds of years old. So I've still got to create that wealth."

"Ah." Nodding in understanding, you can't help but smile that he's still holding your hand. "Starting from the ground up. Got it."

He snorts and nods. "Exactly. But don't worry, I'm pretty damn good in a board room. Making deals and money."

"I fully believe that you could sell ice to a Norwegian." From what you've seen, he has the confidence and swagger to do just about whatever he wants.

Your outrageous comment makes him laugh, completely charmed by the faith that you have in him when you haven't even seen him close a deal. "I should use that." He admits, rubbing your warm skin with his thumb.

"If anybody ever remarks that you have cold skin after a handshake, you just tell them it's how your soulmate teases you about it." Gods you just ache when he laughs, and you feel like you might explode with smiling.

Max smirks slightly and reaches into his pocket with his free hand. Pulling out a warmer packet. "I try to make sure that I warm my hands up right before I need to shake hands." He admits bashfully.

"Clever." It's something you never would have thought of in a million years and the fact that he's utilizing it so effectively proves your point that he must be extremely good at what he does.

"A good handshake can make or break a deal." Max admits, having learned that when a pharmaceutical exec had told him that he couldn't trust a man with poor circulation. It had cost him a fifteen-million-dollar contract. "I really like warm places." He hums. "Like right there." He reaches up and touches your clavicle where he had snuggled in as Cutie. "And I can hear your heartbeat."

"Is it loud?" You blurt out the question before you can stop yourself, but it's one of those things that when you read fantasy books you had always wondered.

"When I'm close by, it seems like that's all I can hear. But it's gentle." His fingers brush your skin gently, caressing you. "I like when you sleep. It slows down, like your breathing. You are a very peaceful sleeper."

"I very rarely have vivid dreams." The fact that he's listened to you sleeping seems so utterly romantic that it steals your breath for a long moment. "They only started up again maybe a week ago. But they're not bad. Just kind of...nostalgic."

"What do you dream about?" He asks curiously. Wanting to know what you think about when you are lost in your dreams. He hopes they are sweet, kind. A reassurance that you deserve only the good things in life.

"Um..." Suddenly terrified that you shouldn't have said anything, you try to swallow that impulsive fear and be open with him. Since he's been so open with you tonight, he deserves that. "I had an imaginary friend...when I was a kid. And I've started dreaming about him again. But...also...sometimes...you."

His brow raises, surprised that you dream about him. But he's intrigued by your admission of an imaginary friend. "What was your friend like?" He asks, smiling slightly at the thought of a little girl with her friend, playing by herself in the room.

"He's very kind. And encouraging. And gave oddly good advice for being the figment of a child's imagination." Which makes you smile in turn, and you lean in to Max's side slightly. He feels safer than almost anywhere else in the world right now. "With curly black hair and a big smile and I always imagined that he gave the best hugs in the world."

Curly black hair. Max stares at you in shock. He had been visiting you when you were a little girl. That had to be what it was. He had convinced you that it was dreams. Probably coming at night so it would be more plausible. "You didn't hug him?"

"Invisible friend, Max." You laugh softly. "I imagined that I did a hundred thousand times. But it's not like he ever existed anywhere other than my mind."

"What would this friend. talk to you about?" He asks.

"Everything I guess." Sinking a little closer in to Max's side, you tilt your head slightly like you're trying to let a memory drip out. "School. Dance classes. My parents and my friends. I guess I must have used it like a sounding board. Working out all my little kid problems by talking to Yayo and then playing tea party with him afterward once everything was better."

"Yayo?" Max tilts his head. "Did you name him that or did he tell you to call him that?"

"Who knows," you shrug slightly. The memory is nostalgic enough that you don't notice how he reacts to hearing the name. "I was a little kid the first time I remember him, so I must have made it up somehow."

"Cute." He smirks slightly, imagining him coming into your dreams and spending time with you. He needs to find out why you are so important.

“Everybody has imaginary friends, right?” It had always just seemed like such a natural thing to you. Sure it was unusual that your made up friend was a grown ass man, but it’s not like it was a manifestation of abuse or anything. Yayo had always been your biggest fan and biggest supporter. Whether it was soothing your childhood fears, getting excited with you to start dance classes, or just listening to you babble about your day as kid are want to do. “Mine just wore fancy clothes and had a Spanish accent. Who knows? I must have seen an Antonio Banderas movie as a little kid and made up a character with the voice or something.”

“I am sure that your Yayo was a good thing for you.” Max frowns slightly, wondering why he had skulked in shadow and come to you in the night. “It sounds like he was.”

“Imaginary friends fill a gap.” You shrug your shoulders a little, leaning against him. “I’m sure you had one, too. Most kids do.”

“I didn’t.” Max admits. “But that’s because I was normally trying to surround myself with people. To pretend I was better than I was.”

“Better than you are?” Brows furrowing immediately, you tilt your head back to look at him and frown. “But you’re fantastic.”

“Not really.” Max snorts. “If I were better, my parents wouldn’t have abandoned me. I wouldn’t have needed my sire to bring me back.”

“The person you’ve been with me…the person I’ve gotten to know?” You shrug your shoulders again, wondering if a compliment from you is worth anything at all. “I think he’s pretty fantastic. Maybe you were just finding yourself.”

Your words are probably some of the most soothing he’s ever heard and he bites his lip. “I really want to be a bat right now so you will scratch my head.” He admits with a huffing laugh.

“C’mere.” You can’t help but grin, and you cradle his head against your shoulder with one hand before starting to scratch, gently and soothingly, over his short-cropped hair and scalp. “Does it feel as good when you’re like this?”

“Oh shit.” Max’s eyes close and he leans into your touch. “How— it’s so good. This is why dogs love people. It has to be.”

Your blunted fingernails take over his scalp and you shift so he can cuddle closer if he wants to. “But they don’t love vampires?” Somewhere in your memory you remember him remarking that dogs were not terribly big fans of him.

“Nah.” He grumbles slightly. “Knows we are a more dangerous predator.”

Humming in understanding as your nails find a rhythm gently running along his hairline, you revel in the closeness without expectation. Without demand. Without rules. Just simple intimacy without conditions.

How he ended up with his head in your lap, he couldn’t tell you, but it’s the most relaxed he’s ever been. “This is nice.”

“You don’t have to be a bat to get scritches and cuddles,” you promise him with a quiet giggle.

“Yeah?” He grins up at you. “Might have been my favorite part of the day. Your reading voice is really nice.”

“I can still read to you.” The idea that he actually enjoys it makes your cheeks heat up again, and you rub his shoulder with your other hand. “And you don’t have to carry me to bed anymore. Though it was very sweet of you.”

“I liked doing it.” He pouts slightly. “I’m either a wicked vampire carrying you off, or a valiant hero saving a damsel in distress.” He grins. “You pick which one I imagine.”

“I guess it will depend on my mood.” It’s intimidating, and a little embarrassing, realizing that he’s heard every time your heart has skipped a beat around him. But at least this time when it happens, he’s smiling right at you. “You can…keep doing it if you really want to.” It’s utterly romantic, as far as you’re concerned, but you didn’t want him to feel that he had to.

“You sleep, you should be comfortable.” He doesn’t mention that he had wished he could lay down beside you. That would be too far, at least as a human.

“Well, we’ll have to find a new way to curl up.” The way you are now is so nice. So calm. And deeply domestic, which you would never point out. “You won’t exactly fit on my shoulder for me to read to you like this, and that chaise is not built for two.”

Max smirks, resisting the urge to tell you that it could be, as long as you are laying on him. Instead, he hums, surprised you want to give up your furry little friend.

“If you want.” It will always be up to him. You’ll never push or impose. But you want him to know that — as small as your steps forward might be — you’re willing to take them.

“I want.” He closes his eyes and burrows his head into your lap more. “I think I’d scare you with what I want, Queenie.”

“I’m used to being scared,” you admit, fingers still raking through his short hair. “I’d rather be intimidated by something good than afraid of darkness.”

“I don’t want you to be afraid at all.” Max nearly growls, but he doesn’t want to make you nervous. “I’d rather be staked again than hurt you. Or let someone else hurt you. Just think of me as your own, personal guard bat.”

“Life is scary.” Looking down into his face, there is something there that you can’t identify, but it’s less so than in the beginning. There are fewer secrets now. Fewer. Not none. But you would never ask anyone to change for you, and especially not in the course of just a few hours. “And I guess…so is the afterlife. But it’s less scary with an actual partner, I think. At least, I have to think that it is. Hope that it is.”

"I can be rude, downright inconsiderate. Selfish. Maybe too much of a flirt, but I've never, ever wanted to make my soulmate cry." He admits quietly. "Always said that whoever she was would get the best of me."

“Nobody’s perfect.” Your hand stills, leaving only your thumb stroking along the shortest of the hairs on the back of his neck. “I’m certainly not. I would never expect you to be. All that matters is that we try to be the best we can for each other.”

"Why are you so sweet?" He's slightly confused by it. It's obvious you've not had an easy time, and yet you are so willing to accept this when you had just sworn off relationships. "So accepting?"

It’s confusion in his eyes, not criticism, and you frown slightly at the question. It seems fairly obvious to you, but there is more than one answer. “Part of it is just…me. And I haven’t been able to be myself in so long that I thought I had forgotten her. But I guess that’s not the case after all. But also…you’re my soulmate. If I was ever going to accept anyone, wouldn’t it be you?”

"I never thought my soulmate would accept me." It's a hard thing to admit, a sobering one. After he had been turned, he had been certain that he wouldn't be accepted. When he had refused to let him put any marks back, it had just be a silent confirmation of those deeply internal views.

“Surprise.” Sniffling back a laugh, your fingers trace his cheek and jaw in a move far bolder than you thought you could feel. That deep thread that connects soulmates truly is stronger than you ever thought. “I thought I’d lost you when all of your marks disappeared. So surprise for me, too.”

Max sighs, closing his eyes in regret. "My sire— he didn't want me to put the marks back." He explains. "Said it would cause confusion. Ordered me not to. And since I'm dead, I can't really scar anymore."

“If I got a tattoo do you think it would show up?” It’s not really something you had ever considered before, but he’s right. Wounds probably don’t affect him the same way anymore. But ink? Ink might.

"I don't know." He admits quietly. "Your birthmark is the only thing I have."

“The next time you speak to your sire, you could always ask him.” Whoever Max’s sire is, he sounds a bit like a strict father. But there’s probably a reason for that even if you don’t know what it is.

He chuckles. "If he decided to answer me, it would be in a riddle."

“Maybe I should ask him, then.” You offer him a valiant smile, like you’re offering to go into battle. “If you wanted, I mean.”

"You would do that?" His amazement is astounding, nearly making the blood in his system rise to the surface again.

"If you want me to." He seems so genuinely shocked that anyone would do something nice for him that it breaks your heart a little. After all, you know that feeling all too well. "We could pick out a design together, too."

“I- I honestly don’t know what to say.” He confesses softly. “I really don’t.”

“If you don’t like the idea, it’s okay to say so.” But from the expression on his face says otherwise, and it softens your own smile into something akin to dreamy. “But I think it would be nice.”

“No, I like it— it’s just— it’s surprising.” He tells you. “In a good way.”

"I...liked having your tattoos. Having that part of you." He lights up when he smiles and it makes your heart skip again. "Now that we know each other a little, it would be nice to have that to share."

“You never wanted tattoos?” He asks curiously, wondering why you never put a mark on him besides the odd scars that were now gone. “Or did the asshole not want any on you?”

He has hit the nail on the head, of course, and you bite your lip. "Big tattoos aren't great for competition. But...Let's just say he wasn't sad when they disappeared one day."

Max blows out a raspberry. “He sounds like a dick.” He would say more, but he doesn’t want to upset you. “I’m glad you’re here and not still around that prick.”

"I'm glad I'm here, too." Especially now. Now that you know what he is to you.

Max is quiet for a moment. Letting the seriousness of this settle and he doesn’t have a quip, or a joke about it. No snide remark comes to mind. He just feels…peaceful around you. “Do you want to dance with me tomorrow?” He asks finally.

"Yes." You don't even have to think about it. Or consult a schedule. Or second-guess. "Definitely."

“Yeah?” He grins, twisting his head to look up at you. “We do dance together really well, don’t we?”

"Not bad for a few turns around the ballroom." Dragging your fingers through his hair again, you can't help but smile, feeling warmed all the way through. Ironic considering Max is so cool to the touch. "We'll have to go for something a little more complex this time."

"Oh...are you thinking of something special for the opening dance of the ball?" He asks with a smirk. "It's supposedly tradition for the hostess to start the dancing."

"You just want to show off." Still, it sounds sweet. Like he wants to show you off, which seems entirely foreign but utterly romantic. "It might be sweet, though. We'd have to pick a good song, of course. And make up the choreography."

"Tempo should be lively, celebratory." He tells you. "Starting things off with a bang, as it were."

"An upbeat Viennese Waltz?" It seems like the thing to do, traditional but good for an ice breaker. "I don't want to do something that feels staged and showy...even if that's exactly what it is. A salsa or something like that would feel out of place."

"Especially at a Gilded Age party." Max agrees. "Plus it will almost convince people they could do it with a little practice."

"Maybe we can put flyers for the tickets up at some dance studios around town?" Not that you know of any, but there is a decent chance that he might.

"Perhaps we should invite the teachers to the ball." He offers after a moment.

"It would certain be beautiful for the dancing." You hum dreamily, imagining all of those whirling dresses in the ballroom that is now so familiar to you. "Maybe we could go to a free dancing night at each studio to give the invitation and talk it up a little? Since it's for charity and all."

"There are several dance studios in the area." He knows you will be all dreamy about it. "I'll email you the list and you can call them tomorrow. Set something up."

Alright. Looks like overcoming phone anxiety is on the schedule for tomorrow. You nod and give his shoulder a squeeze. "I guess we'll be dancing together a lot."

He sees the way you freeze for a split second before you try to push it aside. "What is it?" He asks softly, wondering if you will pretend everything is fine or if you will confide in him.

"Nothing," you insist immediately, knowing that previous to the last few weeks you would have been expected to shut away every ounce of your anxiety in order to make sure everything got done precisely the way Derek wanted. The fact that Max gives a damn how you feel about things is so strange to process. "It's—" Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes briefly but force a smile. "I'm not always very good on the phone. You know...anxiety. But I'll manage."

"How about I take a portion of the calls?" Max offers. "And if you find that you can't do it, I'll take them all."

"No, it's okay." The fear of being a burden is instant. It seizes like ice water through your veins, and even though you know logically that Max isn't the same kind of man that Derek is, you still shake your head tightly. "I can take care of it. There's no reason for you to do extra work."

“It’s not like I would mind.”

“You work all day. I don’t. I can manage it.” There is no way on earth you’re going to let this slide backward and you shake your head. You’ll make those damn phone calls yourself just so he doesn’t start to think you’re untrustworthy or — like you said you were before and he didn’t believe you — broken.

“If you’re sure.” Max doesn’t want you to be overwhelmed. “You’ve got a lot on your plate with planning this event. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

“If I get overwhelmed, I’ll split the calls into two days.” You promise him, not really knowing if that will help at all but willing to give the — as they say — old college try.

“It’s okay.” Max promises you. He doesn’t want to call attention to it, but he captures your hand and brings it to his mouth. He kisses it softly. “You will be settling into your nickname of ‘Queenie’ before you know it.”

******

Sitting in the teahouse with your cell phone, a notebook, and a list of dance studios had seemed like a good plan for the afternoon. You’ve called three of the four studios on the island but the fourth seems always to be too busy to pick up their line and it has you frustrated and anxious that you can’t finish your task. At this point you feel like you’ve been twiddling your thumbs waiting for Max to get home, and you finally decide to pack up and go inside, intending to catch Mrs. Taylor before she starts making dinner for the night. She should know that you know — and that you have no intention of keeping her or Max or Eddie or anyone else from having the blood they need.

Renee had told you before about the reason for the call buttons in every room of the house. How they shouldn’t be looked at like ringing a cow bell to demand service, but as a polite way of requesting to speak with a staff member when you need something. Rather than the old-fashioned families a hundred years ago or more barging into their servants’ areas, you press the button as a polite request. Trying to keep that in mind, you choose the library as a place to sit once you reach the house, and press the button hidden in the wainscoting before settling down at the desk. Whether Mrs. Taylor or Renee answers will be up to them.

“Ms. Dolly?” Mrs. Taylor’s voice immediately comes over the intercom, like she had been hovering next to it. You don’t know that she was across the kitchen, but that’s the beauty of being able to move so fast. It’s why her and Renee can handle the housework and keep the place spotless.

“Do you have time to speak for a moment before starting dinner, Mrs. Taylor?” The little speaker box on the desk is reminiscent of the 1950s and makes you smile. It’s odd. But it works.

“Of course, Ms. Dolly, I will be right up.” In the time it would take a normal human to come upstairs, she will put together a light tray for you with the fresh apple cider that she had thought you would enjoy. You seem to like the fall theme.

It takes the housekeeper only five minutes to appear in the library doorway with a tray of assorted snacks and a large drink, and this time instead of feeling like a burden that she is serving you, you find yourself amused that she had so much time to fix the tray. Max had demonstrated his vampiric speed for you last night by zipping across the second-floor hallway so now you have a better idea of how fast your housemates can move. “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I know your time is precious.”

“It was nothing, ma’am.” She nods her head and sits down across from you when you motion her to sit. “Did you wish to discuss the menu for the party? I’ve already made several varied menus for you to choose from.” She pulls cards out of her sweater to hand to you.

“Well…yes. But I wanted to speak to you about the…general dinner menus as well.” Just because you had been trying to hype yourself up for this doesn’t mean that you had figured out how to go about it gracefully. Grace is only something you have when you dance — not really in conversation.

“Is there something you don’t like?” She looks positively horrified by the prospect and curses herself. She had been treating you like Cookie, and there’s a very real chance your palette is completely different. “If you give me an idea of what you wish to have, I will make sure to adjust accordingly.” She assures you.

"It's not that. Your cooking is wonderful. In all honesty it's high above what I'm used to and I couldn't possibly ask you to change a thing. Not for me." You shake your head profusely to dispel any worries, practically reaching out to take her hand, but you have a feeling that she would find that improper. "It's just that...I have been made aware that...Max and Eddie and...well, everyone else in the house...you all have rather a different diet than I do. And that there have been a few things hidden from me until now, which I presume was done so as not to stun or panic me."

Surprised would be a mild way to put her reaction. Mrs. Taylor’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plate and her stomach drops. “Who told you that?” She had been assured by the coven on the first visit to the manor since you have befriended them that the witches would not tell you.

"Max did, but please understand that he did it for the most noble reason possible." After talking it out with him last night, the two of you had decided that your soulmate status would be impossible to keep quiet in the house so it was probably best just to let people know. If it had taken the two of you only a few weeks, it was sure to come out quickly to everyone else. "We had a long discussion last night about some very important things. And I...I appreciate that you all did your best to make me feel comfortable here. I do feel comfortable here. But I don't want any of you to have to hide your blood anymore. That would be incredibly rude of me to ask when I am the only human in the house."

"It is not a problem." She insists, leaning in slightly. "We are used to being...more formal about things than the average vampire. Cookie had been pleased with it as well as her soulmate. He was the one that had set that formality in place. However, this is your home and what you wish will be."

"The formality is...it's sort of nice, if I'm honest. It's comforting to have an order to how things are supposed to work. But it's really fine with me if Eddie and Max just want to have blood at dinner instead of...well...food. I understand that it used to be served in wine glasses and that my dislike for drinking sort of threw a monkey wrench into that habit."

She smiles softly and tilts her head, a motherly sort of affection for you making her squeeze your hand gently. "It was not vexing to anyone save for Max and well, he likes to make a nuisance of himself at times." She confides. "I think it was that 'only child' syndrome he had."

"He likes to feel special." There's something soft and affectionate in your tone that you just can't help, but you swallow down any sort of guilt that bubbles to the surface from it. Max is your soulmate after all. And it's been weeks since you left Derek's house. There doesn't need to be any guilt whatsoever.

Her brow raises at the change in tone, pursing her lips in amusement. "I gather that the snack trays he has been putting together for you during your show has changed your mind about Max?"

"It's not—" Your cheeks burn hot and you suddenly wish you were a turtle so you could just bury yourself in your shell at the first mere hint of embarrassment. "It's more than that," you tell her quietly, acknowledging that this is surely the opportune time to tell your vampiric housekeeper the truth about what you and Max are to each other. You're just not sure how she will react. "We...discovered...last night..." You take a deep breath, suddenly very aware of that action around so many people who don't need to do it at all. "That Max and I are soulmates."

It's like the key to the riddle of why Max was brought here suddenly slides into place. Her eyes light up and even if she is surprised, she is charmed by soulmates. Her own dear Mr. Taylor is her own, so very fortunate to have found each other so many years ago and to continue to be deeply in love. "That is...spectacular." She hums, sure that he was always aware of the connection, even if he had not confided in her.

"It's very unexpected." And it has you smiling like a lunatic, but you clear your throat and try to compose yourself. "But it really has shown me that I would prefer to have fewer secrets around me from now on. I used to be utterly surrounded by them, and I don't want this next chapter of my life to be that way again."

"Understood." While there is still one secret that she must keep, Mrs. Taylor is determined to make sure you are aware of most of what happens here. She is bound by her sire to keep his secrets, and that unfortunately predates your wishes.

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Taylor." There is some reticence in her – years of having to read Derek's moods at the drop of a pin have made you sensitive to things like that – but you won't push. Just because you've asked for openness doesn't mean it is an easy thing to give, and it means nothing if it is demanded. "I have nothing but respect for you and I'm so grateful to you for helping me to feel at home here so quickly."

"This is your home." She promises. "It was always meant to be your home."

"I'm sure there must have been other relatives along the way that the house could have gone to." You can't imagine that there were no other options for an heir, but you would be lying if you said you weren't grateful for Cookie's choice.

"No." Mrs. Taylor looks down at your joined hands and smiles sadly. "Unfortunately, due to a...family issue, you were the only choice in Cookie's mind for a recipient."

"I wish I could thank her." Your mysterious and enigmatic great-aunt has changed your life entirely and you only wish you could tell her how much it has meant to you. Because of Cookie, you know your soulmate.

"I know she would have loved you." Mrs. Taylor looks a bit misty-eyed, even though vampires don't cry often. She smiles again. "But I know that she knows. Wherever she is now."

"She was very important to you." That much is obvious, and it gives you an equally unexpected reason to smile. Knowing that your great-aunt was loved so dearly is reassuring.

"She was a wonderful lady, in every sense of the word." She nods and looks down again and clears her throat. "Please look over the menu cards I've created and let me know what you are thinking?"

"Of course. I'll look them over now. Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." It's obvious that she doesn't want to continue the conversation and you respect her too much to push, so you simply nod and pick up the cards that she laid out in front of you. "Everything you make is wonderful so I'm sure the only difficulty will be choosing between delicious options."

She smiles proudly and nods. "The apple cider is fresh." She tells you. "I thought it would pair nicely with the pumpkin scones that I had experimented with."

"You very quickly nailed down my weakness for fall flavours." There are crunchy sugar crystals on top of the scones and something that smells suspiciously like honey butter in the ramekin sitting alongside the small plate and full mug.

“It seemed like the cozy comforts would be to your liking.” Mrs. Taylor admits with a smile. “I enjoy having a human in the house.” She admits. “Vampires can eat, but normal food does not taste as appetizing to us as it does to humans, and I enjoy cooking.”

“I am very grateful for that, and for you.” A small smile cracks your face, as uncharacteristic as that may seem for you sometimes. “And I am more than happy to eat anything you feel like cooking. I’m pretty abysmal at it myself.”

“That is no concern.” She waves off your comment about yourself. “I am here to make sure you eat well.”

“Do you mind if I ask you one more thing?” Still working through all the questions you have about the circumstances and about your distant relative, there is really only one more you wanted to ask for now.

“Anything.” Mrs. Taylor was halfway out of her seat, but she sits back down and looks at you expectantly.

“I was wondering…how long you had worked for Cookie? The real answer. Allison told me the story about her soulmate prolonging her life and I didn’t believe her then. But I do now…so I wondered. That’s all.”

Mrs. Taylor smiles, the twist of her lips slightly melancholic. “Two hundred and eighty-seven years.” She admits. “Her soulmate brought me to care for her right after they found each other.”

A split second of quick math has your jaw on the ground, and you press one hand to your heart instinctively. “That…she…1736? And they met right here where the house is built?”

“Back when it was the colonies.” She nods, chuckling quietly.

“Gods…” Exhaling a shaky breath, you nod, trying to wrap your head around this extraordinary piece of information. “She must have had a remarkable life.”

“When I tell you we have an extensive collection of Cookie’s things, her clothes, I mean extensive.” She’s proud of that, because it had been her idea to preserve it. It had been meant for someone else, but now, it’s yours.

The endless possibilities flow out in front of you in every direction but you wrap your hands around the large mug of cider and smile, nostalgic already for a past you can’t possibly remember. “I hope one day you might feel open to sharing some of her stories with me. And yours, as well.”

“Since you are aware of our nature and feel no concern, I have no issue sharing.” She pauses for a moment and then decides to share a vital piece of information. “We did not start the formality with the blood until Cookie had decided to no longer prolong her life.” She admits, folding her hands in her lap. “Then it was a measure of respect to make it seem like we were drinking wine.”

“That seems very respectful.” This household is nothing if not respectful. You know that. “It doesn’t need to be hidden anymore. I know you were…being respectful of me in different ways. But besides the initial shock? It seems…well, I feel a bit silly for knowing that magic is real my whole life and not even entertaining the ideas that vampires could be, too.”

“Some things are viewed as too fantastical. Like werewolves.” She hums as she stands. “I will have dinner ready at seven.” She promises before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The immortal housekeeper is gone before you can open your mouth again, and you slump backward in your chair with her menus in front of you and a furrow between your eyebrows. Now you can’t help but wonder if werewolves are real, too…

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @guelyury @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance

[inlovewithpandora]

Hey love💕 I was wondering if you could write a oneshot where neteyam finds out reader harms herself?

Thank for this request anon💗! I hope it meets your expectations!

If anyone has any requests leave them in my asks!

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Navigation || Taglist

Part 1 (here) || Part 2 || Part 3

This story was inspired by the song above^

- I'm tired -

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem! Omatikaya gf! reader

Both characters are 19!

Warnings: self harm ( very descriptive) suicide ideation, attempt, extreme angst, slight physical/ emotional abuse

If your not comfortable with this type of writing please click off

Word count: 1,645

You and Neteyam just recently started dating a few weeks ago. The first time you saw him it made a feeling that was foreign to you course through your veins. When you meet him and got to know him he made you feel an emotion you've never felt before, Happiness.

Every time he came by your pod to whisk you away to somewhere special in the forest you felt nothing but pure bliss.

But when you weren't around you him you felt melancholic, lonely, depressed, and every other negative feeling under the sun. The environment you lived in was toxic and it was ripping a piece of you away every day.

You were trying to ignore the pain and heartache but it wasn't working. you were trying to find healthy ways to cope like weaving or hunting but it wasn't working. The only thing that would help is cutting, making small slits into your navy blue skin that would release crimson-colored liquid. Watching the blood drip down your arm is the only thing that would help you feel better and would make the pain stop.

You lived at home with your father and he was an alcoholic. When you were born your mother died while giving birth to you and that was the last day your father showed any positive emotion. He abhorred you for taking the love of his life away and he made sure you knew it every single day.

You were sitting in your part of the pod trying to avoid your father's alcoholic rage but you couldn't because he decided to come find you and spew his hatred all over you.

He came and pulled the curtain back which revealed you sitting on your woven mat. As he was towering over your small frame you could smell the alcohol seeping from his pores, "What are doing in here?!"

"N-nothing father I'm just making a necklace for someone", A couple of days ago you and Neteyam were sitting by a pond and he told you how he needed a new necklace because he lost his other one so you decided to make him one.

"Who is it for?! Is it for that boy you've been running around with?!" He yelled which startled you. You hated when he yelled because it always made you cry. Instead of responding you just sat there silently looking down at the floor which told your father he was correct about his assumption.

He let out a dark chuckle before continuing to yell at you, "He is only using you for your body, do you think someone could really like you?! That someone would want to actually mate with you one day?! You have to be the dumbest na'vi around to think that. Look at you, you're pitiful. Always crying and sulking around this house. You're always cutting your arm like some deranged freak! What boy would ever want someone like that?!" He yelled with venom coming out of his mouth with each word that escaped his lips

All you could do is break down into a crying fit. You felt like your father was right, why would someone want to be with someone who felt like their only escape was harming themselves? You felt like whatever you had going on inside of you could rub off on Neteyam and you didn't want to corrupt him with this sickness.

Your father saw drops of water flowing down your face and it only made him angrier, "WHAT ARE YOU CRYING FOR? HUH? THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO BE SHEDDING ANY TEARS! IF ANYTHING I SHOULD BE THE ONE CRYING, YOU TOOK MY MATE FROM ME! EVER SINCE YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE IT HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT HELL!" He shouted at you furiously

He crouched down to your level and harshly grabbed your bicep, yanking you up so you could stand on your feet. He then extended your arm, looking at all the scars that ran down your skin. He began to speak but this time he wasn't yelling, he was calm but you could still hear the maliciousness in his tone.

"I wish you were the one that died that day, not your mother. Next time you decided to cut yourself make sure you finished the job and go live among Eywa. I can't stand to have you living in my house and making me live in despair." He let go of your arm and threw it to your side. He lifted his alcoholic beverage to his lips and began imbibing enormous amounts of it before walking outside the pod.

As you stood there with sobs emerging from your throat you decided that you were tired. You were tired of your father's emotional and sometimes physical abuse, you looked down at your arm and could see a purple outline on your arm from his tight grip.

You were tired of feeling like this, you need the pain and heartache to stop. You needed this feeling of sorrow to go away. You looked around your pod and grabbed your knife and put it in its sheath and grabbed your shawl and wrapped it around your arms and began walking to Neteyam's Family pod.

You wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt about him before you went to see the Great Mother.

As you walked you heard a group of girls talking about you as you walked by, "Look at her, She looks awful" one of the girls said while laughing

"Yeah I'm surprised she even came out of her pod, she's been locked up in there for almost a week" one of the other girls chimed in

They continued saying all these nasty things about you and it made you feel even worse than before. Neteyam was in the tree above, looking down at the event that was unfolding. He watched you run away to a deeper part of the forest. He immediately climbed down the tree and began to follow you to see if you were okay.

He hasn't seen you in almost a week and he's been worried about you. He came by your pod to try and talk to you but every time he came your father sent him away.

As you were running you didn't know where you going until you found yourself in front of a small pond. You sat down and looked at your reflection in the water, as you looked at yourself you couldn't even recognize the person you saw anymore. It was like you changed into a totally different person. You looked at yourself and felt disgusted, you felt like you looked repulsive. As you looked at your puffy eyes and the dark circles around them you felt so much pain and agony.

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pressed it again your skin. You knew by doing this it would make you feel so much better, you would finally be at peace. You could finally see your mother and live among your ancestors.

As you were about to penetrate your skin and create a gash so deep that it would bleed out until you took your last breath, you heard someone call out your name.

"Y/N!" Neteyam called out. You turned and saw so many emotions on his face, he looked at you horrified by what he saw you doing to your body.

As you looked at him all you could is cry even harder, "Neteyam please leave"

You didn't want him to see you in this state, you didn't want him to see you so broken.

"Y/N what's wrong? What's going on?" Neteyam asked you as he sat down next to you. As he looked at your arm he saw multiple old scars on your arm and a bruise on your bicep, as you followed his gaze all you could do was apologize to him even though you didn't know why you were doing it.

"I-I’m sorry Neteyam I just can't handle the pain anymore, I'm tired of feeling so miserable. I'm always crying and I'm so weak. Nobody likes me not even my own father, the person who's supposed to love me the most. I feel like I'm going crazy, I feel like I'm a freak" you told him  as you let out sobs in between every few words

"I don't want to live Neteyam. I want to be with Eywa where I can feel peace, I need to feel peace."

As you rambled without properly thinking clearly, Neteyam was horrified by your words. "Baby, why would you say that?" Neteyam asked you as his voice broke a little. He hated hearing you speak about yourself so harshly and it broke his heart to hear that you wanted to end your life

"Because it's true! Every single thing I said was true"

"Y/N you are not a freak, you are beautiful and I love you with every fiber in my body. Whatever is going on with your father I will help you figure it out. I will be there for you and help you through these feelings until they have faded away. I will be here for you always, but you can't leave me. I want you to stay here with me so we can grow old together, Okay?" he talked to you with so much conviction in his voice some tears slowly streamed down his face

"Okay, Neteyam" is all you could muster up and say. You wrapped your arms around his body and clung to him. He embraced you and kissed you on the cheek " These feelings won't last forever, we'll get through this together" As you laid your head on his shoulder for the first time you felt like someone cared about you. As you laid in his embrace you felt a feeling you'd been longing for, something you wanted for a long time.

Love & Peace

Previous || Next

I hope you enjoyed💗!

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated💗!

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

#❖ — 🌳: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻.! #❖ — 🪸: 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑺 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺.! #tw alchoholism #tw sucidal ideation #tw: sucidal thoughts #angst #neteyam fanfiction #triggering stuff #neytiri #avatar james cameron #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #jake sully #avatar 2009 #neteyam sully #neteyam angst #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam atwow #avatar the way of water #atwow neteyam #tsu’tey #aonung #loak sully #new writer #avatar angst #atwow angst #tw

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Hi, I have some questions about Cabin in the Woods! 1. What would happen if Spider just didn't react to Quaritch's presence? I mean, he'd just stare blankly into space. 2. Could he use the restroom in those weeks he was strapped down? 3. How was his meeting with Zddog? 4. What would Quaritch do if Spider simply refused to respond to names other than Spider and refused to call Quaritch father 5. That bracelet on his leg is a concussion bracelet? Would Quaritch seriously use it if his son tried to escape? 6. What would happen if Spider somehow found something sharp and hurt himself or his captor? Thanks in advance, I love your story <3

Hello! I love all these questions. Hope you don't mind me changing up the order in which I answer them. So...

1. What would happen if Spider just didn't react to Quaritch's presence?

Quaritch would have looked for an opportunity to make Spider react, like with the I.v and feeding tube. In my mind he always knew exactly what he was doing so if Spider just didn't react to him, Quaritch would probably say/do something to get a rise out of Spider, like insult the Sully's or break his skateboard.

2. What would Quaritch do if Spider simply refused to respond to names other than Spider and refused to call Quaritch father

Spider would have either never been released from his bed or if he tried this after being released Quaritch would have said he was "sick" and tied him up again until he broke.

3. That bracelet on his leg is a concussion bracelet? Would Quaritch seriously use it if his son tried to escape?

I imagined it as a cross between a shock collar and a house arrest ankle monitor. I imagine them as being high up in the mountains, somewhere really hard to get to. There's an invisible perimeter right at the point where you would start to climb down about a 20 mile hike from there house. If Spider had tried to escape he would have gotten electrocuted when he came to that point, if Quaritch hadn't tracked him down first. And yeah if Quaritch really lost his cool, I don't think he'd hesitate to shock Spider into submission and then make him believe he deserved it.

4. Could he use the restroom in those weeks he was strapped down?

Nope. I was intentionally vague about that one, with wording like he couldn't get up for anything so Quaritch had to help him with everything, because frankly that was a little to much for even me to write, but yeah there's definitely a bed pan involved.

5. What would happen if Spider somehow found something sharp and hurt himself or his captor?

With how I wrote Quaritch in this I dont think he ever would allowed for something like that to happen but if that did somehow happen...

If Spider intentionally hurt himself then its going to be a long time before Quaritch even considers letting Spider up from his bed again.

If Spider tried to hurt Quaritch... He honestly wouldn't stand a chance. In my fic Quaritch is definitely playing up the loving father archetype, but if Spider tried to hurt/kill him? That's out the window and the real Quaritch would come out and probably beat the shit out of Spider while again making him believe he deserves it.

6. How was his meeting with Z-dog?

I was actually going to write this but at a certain point I was ready to be done writing this fic and get back to my main fic so I decided to just mention her in passing. So allow me to fix that now...

It was mid December, a light snow covered the ground outside, the bright winter light streaming in through the living room windows. Miles was situated in front of the fireplace, doing his English homework. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the steady beat of his Papa chopping wood out front.

    Then the beat stilled. He heard his Papa call out to someone. A woman’s voice answered. A visitor. Miles quickly dropped his book, scurrying to the window to get a look at the new arrival. The woman looked strong, even under her many layers of warm clothes. She was carrying a large backpack, climbing gear strapped to the top and sides. It was hard to get a good look at her face nestled between her thick wool hat and scarf, but Miles could still make out the smile she gave to his Papa upon seeing him. The woman caught him staring. Her smile got even wider at the sight of him, eyes shining like she was seeing something amazing. 

      “Miles” Papa called as he led the woman inside. The boy immediately scurried to attention. “This is your Auntie Z. She’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

    “Hi Miles,” Auntie Z greated, approaching him. She took his hand in hers and politely shook it.

    Miles liked her already, “hi Auntie Z.” Something about her made him feel instantly comfortable. 

  “Z why don’t you get settled in. Warm up by the fire. Junior can help you out with whatever you need. I'll make us all some lunch,” Papa’s tone was good natured but they both took it as an order, Z quickly unpacking, Miles assisting. 

   Twenty minutes later the trio sat down to a lunch of roasted rabbit and pickled greens, the adults drinking coffee while Miles was given hot tea. Papa asked Z how she’d been doing, what’d she’d been getting up to lately, how her trip up the mountain had gone. Then the conversation took an unexpected turn. “What’s the word on the search for me and Junior?”

     Z looked shocked, side eyeing Miles. She couldn’t believe her commander just asked her that in front of his son. The kid in question just looked at her curiously, while his father patiently sipped his coffee waiting for an answer. “The news coverage stopped months ago. The police gave up the search back in October when they couldn’t find any leads. Miles' last foster family, the Sully's, hired a private investigator. Ja tapped the guy's phone. So far the guy hasn’t been able to find anything.”

    The Colonel clapped his hands, a wicked excitement blazing in his eyes, “hear that Junior! Where in the clear, baby.”

    Miles smiled at his Papa, but it didn’t feel completely genuine. He felt a little queasy at the announcement but decided the food was just getting to him. Z looked him up and down before turning her attention back to her meal saying nothing.

     The next day, Papa invited Z on a hunt but she declined, “I’d like to spend some one on one time with my nephew if you don’t mind.”

    Papa seemed like he definitely did mind but let it happen all the same, leaving to set traps out in the woods. Z settled on the couch, while Miles layed on the floor trying and failing to concentrate on his math workbook. “Your friends miss you,” Z said startling Miles from his lesson, “those Sully kids. They still put up missing posters for you every weekend. And that private investigator their parents hired. The best money can buy. Your daddy is just better.”

    Something Miles had long since thought dead, started clawing its way up. Tears started pooling in his eyes but he wouldn’t let them fall. “Why are you telling me this?”

    Auntie Z shrugged, “thought you’d want to know.” There was a beat of silence, where the pair just stared into the roaring fire together. Then “are you happy here?”

    Miles' breath hitched and he almost ran to grab his inhaler. But this wasn’t an asthma attack. He felt more than heard the ghost of his past life. It was like trying to remember a dream from decades ago. ……no.. the admission faintly echoed in the back of his mind, causing a tidal wave of guilt and anger. “Why do you care?” 

   Z sighed, “I owe you dad my life. He’s saved my ass more times than I can count. He’ll always be my colonel. But….your mom. She was my friend. She loved you more than anything. I owe it to her to make sure you're okay.”

   The boy couldn’t help the tears that fell. “Yeah..” he said between choked cries… “I’m…” he hesitated. Why was he hesitating? Just say the words, I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m “….fine. I’m fine.”

    Z nodded, “I can’t imagine what all this has been like for you. But I do know, your father loves you. He really does. He just has a ….complicated way of showing it.”

    Miles wiped his eyes on his sleeve, “yeah I know.”

Hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for the questions 💞

#miles spider socorro #spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #avatar fanfiction #z dog

[vicekillx]

UPDATE: 2024

Usually I make these kinds of post around New Years, but this year I didn't really have anything to say. But now we're a month in and I definitely do.

I feel…different, this year. In a good way, I think. I feel like I'm tired of being complacent and riding coattails. This month has been a whirlwind of getting my shit in line. So far I:

handled two serious family crises smoothly and picked myself back up quickly from both

called my health insurance (phone calls have historically been an hours-long meltdown-inducing debacle for me) twice to switch my PCP because the previous one was consistently booked 3-6 months out and she just forgot to mention the inhaler I pulled out of my bag to show her at my first appointment so I couldn't get a refill on it or my nebulizer when I had COVID; that's been getting put off since August of last year

made an appointment with said new PCP for Feb 1, and I'm hoping they'll be able to refer me to a dentist and optometrist because I desperately need both

got back into therapy with an autism/ADHD specialist who can help me manage those specifically after my previous therapist didn't understand why I couldn't just Do It™; also have assessments lined up for both to get diagnoses

pay more attention to my health in general, including diet and exercise. I'm already down about 10 lb

restructured my planner to include a mood tracker and sleep tracker, and have been better about staying on top of it

got Trello up and running and so far it's working really well for me

have been doing my house chores more consistently, namely cleaning litter boxes and taking care of my snakes and tarantulas (roommates have been picking up my slack but they shouldn't have to, they're my animals)

am able to work more consistently on my designated work days; before it was a lot of chipping away and putting things off rather than sitting down and making actually decent progress

am finally starting a tattoo sleeve I've wanted for a very, very long time as a belated birthday gift to myself

am consistently filling stream sketch slots, which means I can actually make money and pay my bills on-time (and a huge, huge thank you to everyone who signs up, I'm pretty sure this is the primary reason I've been able to pull myself out of the hole. Financial stability is a hell of a drug)

This year I wanna try really hard to keep the train moving along this track. If things keep going the way they are, I could potentially make some pretty big changes in the not so distant future. Some things I'm brainstorming:

UnholyFans

merch other than stickers (seriously I have so many designs in mind, I just haven't had the drive to work on them or the upfront capital to order inventory)

more monster/demon adoptables

I would really like to collab with some other artists, it's been too fuckin long

website restructure

picking up my side business (I did literally zero pieces for it last year oof), ideally with a rebrand

get back into conventions and try some new crowds: reptile/exotic expos, tattoo conventions, oddities expos, sex conventions, BDSM groups…

push the stream setup to be more professional

rekindling the spark for my personal stories and headworld projects

more I have written down somewhere but can't think of off the top of my head

And to be clear, I'm optimistic, but also a realist. I know from experience that shit changes and I could hit a massive depressive slump in a month or two and be back to where I was for most of last year. I'm still not going to promise anything I'm not confident I can deliver. However, that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.

I already got sidetracked with this post, so I'm gonna make a second to get to my original point and I'll come back and add a link to this one when I do. But suffice to say I want to try - again - to breathe some kind of life back into my SubscribeStar. I have some ideas in mind, but I want to hear yall's opinions on it too.

Watch this space ♥

#vice says #update

[sassafras--manson]

Tagged by my friend @weirdness-is-good to do 15 questions and tag 15 friends 👽

1. Are you named after anyone?

my first name’s from a non recurring character in a soap opera my mom had watched since she was like 14. she swore that’s what she’d name her first girl and kept it a secret so no one could steal it for That Long (and i have 2 older brothers and i’m rly glad they weren’t girls cuz idk who i’d be without this name) // my middle name is after a close family friend that i rly don’t know much about, other than seeing a photo of her holding me as a baby. she passed when i was super young so i never met her when i was any older. i should ask my dad about her.

2. When was the last time you cried?

i’ve started coming off my ssri so i been at least tearing up if not full on wailing every day of january so far hahaha effexor withdrawals are no fuckin joke

3. Do you have kids?

i could see myself fostering kids some day. otherwise being the cool aunt is perfect for me (and i just got a brand spankin new niece on the 12th!)

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

i did gymnastics/dance, basketball, track, and cheerleading growin up. i wanna get back into gymnastics/dance classes tho (i wanna do pole dance so bad) cuz my muscle memory and flexibility without practicing or stretching is still crazy

5. Do you use sarcasm?

fosh

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

their style and like their attitude

7. Eye color?

green

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

i love scary movies and movies that get me all soul searchy and weird, but sometimes you need something happy that’s not that deep. i just love movies. i should keep a letterboxd. i got one and just never use it cuz i haate ranking/scoring things. but i watch so many movies

9. Any talents?

turning cigarettes into smoked cigarettes 😤

but fr i’m a pretty decent singer. some friends’ band broke up recently so a couple of them and i are talkin bout startin a band where i get be somewhere between a punk and the 80s hair metal star of my dreamsss

10. Where were you born?

in a small hospital in a snowstorm

11. Hobbies?

goin to shows a lot. stick n poke tattooing. i wanna do every art n craft imaginable. but mostly i take film photos (i wanna take more AT shows but i get self consciouss), make jewelry, paint, upcycle clothes. watchin movies (usually while i’m doin art). one of these days i hope i’ll start writin poetry again like i used to but it feels awful far away as a concept

12. Any pets?

2 black cats, my fluffy lil spunky lady Elvira and my slinky v sweet and polite boy Houdini

13. Height?

5’9”

14. Favorite school subject?

i’m not in school, but it was always art, even tho i barely got to take any art classes

15. Dream job?

i’d love to be a tattoo artist and stick n poke for a living, traveling to different shops or just traveling n poking independently (help me gain traction plzz n follow me @ stab_worthy on insta 🥺) and honestly i think i could make it happen. pointillism just *made sense* to me when we did a project in my one high school art class and in the same way stick n poke *made sense* as soon as i started doin it. it’s one of the few things i don’t feel weird about saying “i’m good at this”. i’m self taught and always learning, but yeah, i’m good at this :3

tag 15 ppl

idk if i even know 15 ppl on here now that i’m rebuilding, post blog deletion 😭 so even if we’re kinda new or distant mutuals ur still makin the list (plus then i won’t be as new or distant) 🤡

@sea-wolfe @tangledupinblue8 @inertiatic @carbonfootprince @wastedefforts @ectrica @msf-diamond-dog @diegc @wonderfulcaricatureof-intimacy @oneafter909blues @corpest @lily-of-elysium @venusmolting @vulpeasera @delusionsofamor

#about me #tag game

[ageless-aislynn]

I like to call this "I'm winning in not having a life having an awesome life of video gaming" 😇 aka my Steam 2023 Year In Review!

I looooove the "We'd say you finished the fight, but you're still going." Accurate, lol! 😂

The only reason Andromeda dropped off abruptly in November is because I still can't get the launcher to, well, launch without crashing my computer. But one sweet day, my beloved Andromeda and I shall be together again! 🤗😉

Both @mrtobenamedlater and @naranghim have kindly offered me a ton of great advice on repairing my old man here. *pat-pats my faithful computer whose only fault is getting old*

It happens to us all, after all!

Anyway, at least I still have had the MCC or I swear, I would've gone off a light bridge somewhere!

Master Chief, Noble Team and my ODSTs have kept me clinging to a thread of sanity. 🤗🤗🤗

So, my Gaming Goal for 2024 is to, first of all, have a working computer again so I can play whatever I want. Then immediately following that, I want to finish my Scott/Peebee and Scott/Jaal playthroughs of Andromeda and I will have officially romanced everybody! 🥳💖

I'm definitely hoping to get the achievement for playing Halo: Reach on Legendary in under 3 hours.

I'm currently on track to finish Reach in... about 5-6 hours right now 👀 but hey, Reach is HARD on Legendary, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️ It just took me 1 hour 18 minutes to get through "Long Night of Solace" and, if you know Reach, then you know that space battle is a PILL. I need to find a better strategy than "Hide behind Anchor 9 and wait for everybody else to kill the enemies." It's a solid strat when it comes to surviving but it takes forever and you don't have that sort of time in a speedrun, after all. (The par time is 25, btw. *laughs in "I'm never making anything close to that but will try to get other missions under par so to have some room for it"*)

Anyway, I'm not afraid to have to grind for this achievement, it'll be even more awesome then when I get there, right? 😎👍

There I go, soaring into the air to achieve my dream, just like Emile achieving his dream to, um, be launched into a parking lot??? (I adore how he turns in mid-air to still aim at the Banshees, lol! That's Spartan dedication, frens! 🤣)

But the main thing I want to do is to try some of my other games, such as the original Mass Effect trilogy, Star Wars: Fallen Order, Portal 1 and 2, Titanfall 2, Tomb Raider (2013), Dead Rising, Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, and Dragon Age Inquisition! Those are just a few of the awesome games waiting for me in my Steam library! 🤗🤗🤗 I'm hoping to eventually pick up Detroit: Become Human, Resident Evil Village and Baldur's Gate 3 one day, too! 🤞😣🤞

Heh, those 3 games are a Neil Newbon trifecta, aren't they? 😂

Me @ most of Neil Newbon's characters. I am what I am, frens. I am a simple creature. 🤷‍♀️😜

Anyway! If anybody else is sharing their Steam Year in Review, please let me know, I'd love to run right over and check it out!

Thanks for reading this, if you did, and here's to a Happy New Year full of awesome games for us all! 💖💖💖

#steam year in review #video games #this is my game tag #halo: the master chief collection #halo mcc #mass effect: andromeda #halo: reach #halo reach #neil newbon fangirling #lol #ageless aislynn

[silverwhiteraven]

Burrito^Squared: A [Debug Teaser] CYOA MariBat Vote Fic - Ch. 1

[ Author's Note: While I work on setting up the first chapter of the official MariBat Vote Fic, I decided, with the encouragement of the fandom on Discord, to test out how to work Polls into a written story on Tumblr. I chose what I endearingly call "The Bottom of the Barrel" to do this with! AKA, the lowest voted answers of the 4 Set-Up Polls. I hope you all enjoy what has been born from the ashes of Daminette's win <3 ]

Chapter 1 - A Hero's Game

Capture the flag. A simple game of two teams, two goals, and two lines of defense, each facing off against the other. The more members put into the offence, the weaker the deffence. The stronger the deffence, the less offence one could provide. But no mix of defence and offence could possibly hold against an all-out attack by a strategic mastermind with a one-track mind! Especially a hungry one on a time crunch who knows her flags have no offensive capabilities.

Batgirl sped through the streetlamp lit streets of Metropolis, every available computer system on her person and her scooter out, open, and running like some kind of crazed Pokemon Go player on a never ending hunt. Which wasn’t all that inaccurate of a description.

“Come on, come on, that last one has to be here somewhere!”

She fretted aloud as the wind whipped around her, eyes on her screens more than on the street ahead. It might have been a miracle that she hasn’t gotten into any accidents after all the time she has done this, or it could have simply been the skill of an obsessed teenager. She didn’t have time to figure that out, though.

The communicator on her wrist beeped and she held it up to her face like it was her last hope. “Bumblebee! Please please PLEASE tell me you found it!”

There was a pause, before a timid voice came through. “Well…Do you want the bad news first…?”

“Noooo-! Please, the Metropolis HackCon is tomorrow! I can’t lose this competition to that sad little puppy-eyed rich brat again!” She bemoaned. That Tim Drake kid may not have been as odl or as skilled as her, but he had more resources than Barbra Gordon originally had access to. That has since changed, but who knows what might have changed for him, too. She didn’t want to think about it.

“You know i’m not much of a hacker, Batgirl,” Bumblebee replied apologetically. “I do more of the mechanical aspects than the programming side of things. It’s why I had so much trouble with making my suit… Besides, what kind of convention sets up a competition that takes place before the actual event? How do they keep track of cheating, or maintain their servers, or- or- or ensure the safely of their participants!? Do you really have to be going all over the city just to find these Flags? It doesn’t seem right…”

“Oh psh, you worry too much, Bee! This Con is hosted by none other than Lex Luthor this year!” She revealed excitedly, getting a squawk from Bumblebee, who couldnt comprehend how her friend was excited about something held by a suspected Supervillain. “They say the top prize gets a college scholarship and guaranteed internship upon graduation! I’ve been trying to win that myself for years now- Darn Drake kid keeps mocking me by donating the scholarship to the second and third placers.”

“Wait, so you don’t actually need-?”

“It’s the principle of it, Bumblebee! The principle!” Batgirl declared loudly, before ending the communication.

“Batgirl…? Batgirl? Oh, she hug up. But, I didnt even get to tell her the good news…”

Soon enough, Batgirl reached her limit and ended her hunt for the last Flag. Stashing her scooter in a narrow and dark alley, she grappled up to a highrise rooftop and flopped down, defeated and feeling like a dried up starfish.

“What kind of Capture the Flag game is also this much of a Treasure Hunt??” She groaned. “It used to just be held at the HackCon, sitting at computers and digging through the servers of the Convention Center an connected Hotels! How did that Luthor guy get so many businesses around Metropilis to participate like this…? Ugh, I don’t care! I wish he would at least give us hints!”

A few moments passed, as Batgirl grumbled to herself, complaining and going over what she knew so far so she could try to find a lead hidden within her own brain.

Then the crunch of rooftop gravel had her looking up, or as relatively up as she can while laying flat on her back. A head of blond hair looms just behind her, a familiar bucket of food obscuring the face. “Tough time?” a sympathetic voice asked.

#Barbara Gordon x Adrien Agreste #AdriBabs #mlb x dc #maribat #choose your own adventure #vote fic

[eternally-lame]

✨✨Writeblr Intro✨✨

Hi! I’m new to writeblr and I hope to become more involved with the writing community on here!

I’m a university student majoring in Archaeology which of course means I’m obsessed with everything old and ancient, which can be seen in a lot of my stories (*cough* time travel *cough*). I’ve been in love with making up stories and characters since I was little but I never really thought of myself as a writer. Honestly, I didn’t even think about writing my ideas down until this past winter when I started using Wattpad again. I found some amazing stories (shoutout to @screamingatanemptyroom) that inspired me to start writing and now I can’t seem to stop.

Anyways, here are a couple of my stories in the works✨

Introverted University student Evelyn Chandler has been enlisted by her history Professor to travel back in time to 1890s New York to gather firsthand information from the past. When Evelyn is betrayed by one of her team mates, she suffers brain damage and is left to navigate the past without any idea of where (or when) she is from. With the help of an awkward detective, she fights her way through oppression, a corrupt government organization, and a dangerous serial killer who seems hellbent to have Evelyn by their side.

—————————————

“This could go one of several ways:

1. We could get there successfully, complete the mission and come home.

2. The machine could blow up killing us all in the process.

Or 3. We could end up somewhere completely different wearing our asses as hats.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

——————————————

Genre: Historical fiction, Mystery, Romance.

Progress: 24 chapters (not published)

*My first story ever and it’s my pride and joy

Emilia Rosewell is a normal, high school hating teenager who wants nothing more than to graduate without too much drama. Unfortunately, an attractive new guy mysteriously sweeps into town and ruins her plans.

While vampire romances have never been an interest to her, Emilia finds herself in the middle of a magical world of bloodsucking hotties. Unbeknownst to them, she's not going down without a fight. She'll have a normal life, even if it means defanging a couple thousand immortals along side a brooding vampire hunter to get it.

————————————

"This is what I am, Emilia. I'm a monster." He whispered.

I thought for a moment, stunned but also realizing the true weight of the situation.

"Damn straight you are."

"Wha—" he began but I cut him off, justifiably enraged by this new information.

"You've been asking me out, telling me you're in love with me, and this whole time you were an old perv in a younger body!?" I shouted, pointing an accusatory finger. "It's extremely apparent that you're a monster, just not in the way you thought."

———————————-

Genre: Paranormal fiction

Progress: Mostly major scenes, no full chapters

When Ella Reed is transported back in time to the Medieval era, she is taken prisoner by the royal guard. This past, she soon finds out, is far from what she learned in history class. Unless she missed the unit about dragons, magic, and dangerous sorcerers who tempt your morals.

Will Ella ever get back home or will she be stuck in this strange new world forever?

————————————

There was noise coming from in front of me, like something big was running through the trees. The unmistakable sound of an animal came closer.

Is that a freaking horse!? What kind of a budget do these guys have?

I darted to to the side of the foot path hoping the trees would give me enough cover. I dove behind a large bush and hid there for a moment waiting for the large animal to pass. No matter how good I was at track and field I cannot outrun a damn horse.

Two seconds later, a horse carrying a rather large man with a sword drawn zoomed passed. A sword. What the hell does he need an actual sword for? Cutting large vegetables? I wonder if he has a license for that.

—————————————

Genre:Fantasy

Progress: The first two chapters are out on Wattpad now and I’m working on updating soon (can be found here)

Danger lurks within the confines of normal society; corrupt law enforcement, secret organizations with hidden agendas, and human experiments with horrific outcomes.

Snarky and chaotic Nora soon finds herself enthralled in this hidden world and gives her captors a run for their money. Right when she thought all hope was lost he shows up, an infuriatingly attractive new scientist who seems hellbent on her release but she can't seem to pinpoint his motive.

Maybe she could use him to her advantage or she might just get more than she bargained for.

—————————————-

I occupied myself by making noises with my mouth, the only entertaining thing I could think of that doubled as an annoyance to the good doctor over there.

After a particularly loud noise one of the guards snapped his head towards me. "Oh my God, do you ever shut up!"

I took a sharp intake of breath and pretended to ponder on it a moment. "Nope," I said popping the 'p' and continued making the noises.

Maybe I was acting like an annoying brat but I'm not about to be a star patient in this hell hole.

If I have to deal with their bullshit then I'll make damn sure they have to deal with mine.

—————————————

Genre: Fiction, humour

Progress: 4 chapters posted on Wattpad so far (can be found here)

Elara has everything; wealthy parents, a gorgeous fiancé, and her dream job all lined up for her perfect future. But of course not all is as it seemed. Her parents treated her like a stranger, her fiancé was an arrogant prick, and her dream job only cemented her further into this miserable life.

When her fiancé publicly breaks off their engagement for another women, Elara’s life comes crumbling down around her, so she goes to the one place she felt safe; the forest clearing where she and her friend used to play as a child.

But since when was there a glowing lake here and why the hell does the guy guarding it look so familiar?

————————————

"You can't go in there," he said, though he didn’t make any move to stop me.

"Really? Cause last time I checked this is a free country."

"There will be consequences that—“

"Oh spare me the lecture! everything has consequences, the only question is whether you have anything to lose." I stared at the glowing water, an instinctive, ancient desire welling up inside me. "And as it just so happens, I no longer do."

———————————-

Genre: Fantasy/supernatural fiction

Progress: obsessed with the storyline but no complete chapters

✨So far these are all the formulated plots but I have a lot more that I’m still forming, so there will probably be updates!✨

Thanks for reading!

#writeblr #writeblr intro #wip stuff #WIP #wattpad #writerscommunity

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.109 - The Rileys - Part 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

First of the three-part leg of Simon and Kiera's honeymoon!

Author's Note: Again, I'm so sorry for such a late update. My life has been... a rollercoaster. Since my last update, it's unfortunate to say that things did not go as planned. After my final drop off in Colorado, I was desperate to get back to Montana so when I left northern Colorado, my truck broke down close to the Wyoming border with my horse in the trailer as well as my two dogs with me being stranded in the isolated part of northern Colorado. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with my USRider insurance, which covers a tow for both my truck and trailer as well as getting me and my horse somewhere safe until I could get back on the road. The closest shop that could see my truck was in Parker, Colorado, which is south of Denver, so it put me out of my way by three hours. I spent two days in a Super 8 and when I got the call that my truck was fixed, I had to dive into my savings to get it fixed and back on the road. With no new hauls coming back to Montana, I used the rest of my money for fuel to just get home. It took me nearly four days to get home due to a massive storm that came through Kansas and into Colorado the same day I left. To add more fuel to the fire, during my time on the road, I had completely forgotten that my power bill was linked to my debit card - the same debit card that I had to use to get fuel prior to my big trip, so in short my power had been off since July 18th. So not only did I come home to no power in a massive heatwave, I came home to everything in my fridge completely rotten, including a freezer full of beef I had processed last year from my farm. I don't want to ask for help because I'm stubborn and this is my problem I've gotten myself into, but I've contemplated on opening up my tips box on Tumblr as even a dollar helps me out, but to me, having a consistent reader base and constant support goes further than any dollar will, so I'm just grateful that you all love this story as much as I do. Long story put very short, I'm having to start all over again - literally. I really enjoy writing and I think about this story every day and adding to it, but please bear with me if things look sloppy. I know you guys are eager for my updates and I want to give my audience what they want, but it's just been hard these last few weeks and I'm just trying to get back on my feet and on track. 

I love you all. Thank you very much for reading. I hope to keep updating as soon as I possibly can! - A &lt;3

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Love, I'm not joking: when we get out of this cab, I want you by my side at all times." 

"Aw, come on, babe. I won't go far," She giggled, her eyes glued to the massive structures that lined the Strip. "It'll be fun to get lost in a place like this." 

"I'm not having a runaway bride," He arched his brow. "Especially in a town like this."

"Will there be a punishment for an intense game of hide n' seek?" 

"Oh yes there will." He arched his brow.

"Hm, sounds like a rule I'd like to break..."

"Love, if I wanted to babysit, I would've brought Johnny." 

She laughed, "Bringing Johnny on our honeymoon? Having some extra thoughts there?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"Mhm... I think you are." 

"Those drinks on the plane have been teasing at you, yeah? Sounds like you're the one with additional thoughts that I should be worried about."

"No," She scoffed. "I love Johnny, but like a brother or a pet fish. I'd cry if I had to flush him down the toilet, but I definitely don't want to kiss him!" 

Simon couldn't help but laugh as he gazed out the window, seeing the hotel he had booked for two nights before their flight to Birmingham. "I'll take your word for it. We're here." 

"Where exactly are we going?" She giggled. 

"The hotel, love." 

"I know, but which one? There's thirty million in my eyesight." She exaggerated. 

"You said you wanted to go to Paris, right?" 

"I can't recall," She shrugged playfully before looking towards the Paris Las Vegas hotel. "Is that where we're going?" 

"I figured it was better than some cheap motel with complementary bed bugs and moth balls," He replied sarcastically, smirking when she playfully slapped his bicep, her eyes fixated on the many bright lights that made the Las Vegas Strip. "Besides, this place is better than Paris, France. Trust me." 

She laughed in agreement, "Oh, I know, babe. Paris in France isn't what it's cracked up to be. This is ten times better." 

"I'm glad I picked right, then," He nodded, exiting the cab once the driver had stopped at the front of the hotel, Simon offering his hand to her to help her exit the vehicle before he made his way to the trunk to grab the three duffel bags himself to keep Kiera from doing it. "Let's go check in while I still have you in my sight." 

"You should know I'm not going anywhere... yet," She giggled, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Let me get one of those, Simon-"

"I got it." He replied sternly, letting her walk in front of him before the bellhop met him with a cart in the lobby, generously helping him set the bags down to help ease the strain from his shoulders. That lass is notorious for packing everything that can fit in this bloody thing, he huffed to himself. She's the reason I pack my own bag. He nodded graciously at the bellhop before making his way to the receptionist, keeping his new wife in his peripheral vision to reassure himself that her curiosity wasn't leading her down a path away from him, although a part of him knew she would easily become distracted. "Good evening, sir. Checking in for the evening?" 

"Yes, I made a reservation last week," He replied, pulling out his phone to show the receptionist his proof of reserve for two nights in his email's inbox. "Riley." 

She nodded, typing on her computer before the confirmation pulled up on her desktop, "Ah! There you are! Give me just one second and I'll print out this form for you to sign and your keycards. Do you have your I.D.?" 

As much as he hated showing strangers his identification card, he did it anyway after taking a long exhale to rid his mind of anxious thoughts, handing it to the receptionist and closely watching her as she keyed in his information for their records. "Alright, just sign this line here. Will you need just one or two keycards for your stay?" 

"Probably two. She'll lose it if we just have one." He said, nodding towards Kiera when she finally made her way to stand next to him at the counter after looking at the many decorations that filled the lobby. 

"I understand!" The receptionist giggled, retrieving the form he had just signed and putting it away in the file folder for their current check-ins and registering the keycards for their room. "You're all set for your stay! Just take the elevator down this hall to floor eighteen and take a right." 

"Thank you." Simon nodded, retrieving the keycards from her hand. 

"You're very welcome! Enjoy your stay! The bellhop is already in route to your room to deliver your bags!" 

He nodded, hating the fact that someone else that possession of his and Kiera's things, but he forced himself to not overreact as it was simply just a person doing their job and not someone with cruel intentions to sabotage his honeymoon. 

Simon was still going to check and be sure. 

Kiera wrapped her arm around his as he escorted them to their home-away-from home for the next two days, the pair looking around at the luxurious decorations and marble floors as they made their way to the elevator. "We're definitely a long way from home." She commented. 

"That we are, love." 

"You don't see stuff like this in Wyoming." 

"No, but Wyoming does have the Grand Tetons," He chuckled. "Which by the way, are named after big tits." 

"What? No they're not." She laughed. 

"I can assure you, that's what it means. When I was in France, I remember hearing locals talking about it - how they laughed at how many tourists travel far and wide to see The Big Tits of the U.S." 

"I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic," She giggled, pulling out her phone. "But I am going to look it up." 

"You do that, love," He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple after escorting her into the elevator. "You know, if this elevator didn't have so many cameras, I'd have you pinned to this wall." 

She blushed, "I'm surprised that's what's stopping you." 

"It is because I don't want one of those old men looking at the cameras gawking at something that's all mine. I'm selfish." He explained, wrapping his free arm around the small of her back, pinching her rear discreetly as they stood against the back wall of the elevator, smirking at how she shrieked at his gesture. 

She couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks at his possessiveness, a warm sensation flooding between her legs as his hand continued to press protectively against the small of her back as they walked along the hallway towards their room. 

Opening the door for her, they both were amazed at the room before them. 360 square feet of pure luxury - elegant carpet, a flat-screen television hanging on the wall adjacent to the lavish king-sized bed, a marble floor to decorate the bathroom with a shower big enough for three people, a separate bathtub and an immaculate view of the Eifel Tower that stood out from the rest of the attraction markings of the Las Vegas Strip. "Oh... My God," She gasped, hesitant to take curious steps forward to look into the room. "This is amazing, Simon."

"Look around, love," He chuckled as he reached for the bags the bellhop had left on the table for them, opening up each one to ensure nothing was missing. I just don't trust anyone. "Where do you want to go first?" 

He watched as she exited the bathroom, turning off the light as she walked towards the bed, running her fingers along the sheets. "I'm fine with staying here for a while. I'm sure this was a lot of money to dish out-"

"Don't worry about the money, love," He cut her off, assuring her that he didn't want her to worry about anything financially. "You tell me what you want to do." 

She hummed, "I mean, can we hang out here for a while? It's only three o'clock." 

"I'm fine with that," He assured her with a grin. "When it gets dark, we can walk around if you'd like." 

"I'd love that, babe," She smiled, slowly approaching him and slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips while his hands instinctively rested on her hips. "Thank you for this." 

"You deserve it," He murmured. "This is only the first of many surprises." 

"Strange that you're the one throwing surprises when you don't like getting surprises," She giggled. "You're going to have to let me pay for something at least." 

"Not a chance." He shook his head, accepting another kiss from her as his hand couldn't help but slide down to grasp at her rear. 

"Come on, at least something!" 

He shrugged, "I mean, I'm willing to take another method of payment..." 

"Is that right?" She giggled. "Well, I can arrange that." 

"I was hoping so, because I'd hate to turn it over to collections." He poked, kissing her jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck, giggling at his banter. 

"Oh, I definitely don't want that!" She laughed, melting into his touch as he began to guide her back towards the bed, easing her against the mattress as he rest between her legs, caging her between his arms while his lips caged against hers. 

"We can work on a payment plan, love." He smirked against her lips. 

"Did you sneak one of your allies on the plane with you?" She asked, her hips jolting at the faint sensation of a vibration against her thigh, immediately assuming it was that small vibrator she kept in her nightstand. 

"No, I won't need that," He chuckled against her lips, using his left hand to fish his phone out of his pocket, grumbling to himself that it had been ringing in the first place. "It's that son of ours. Wonder what he's gotten himself into." 

"Are you going to answer it?" She giggled, watching him stare blankly at the screen as if he were waiting for Baler's caller I.D. to disappear. 

He shot her a quick side glance, a playful glare before his thumb slide right against the screen before pressing the phone against his ear, "Yeah?" 

"So, uh... I have a question." Baler spoke from the other end of the phone, mischief lacing his voice. 

Simon knew he was up to something.

And he didn't like it. Especially with he and Kiera being distant miles apart. 

He sighed, "What?" 

"Well, technically Soap has a question, but he was too scared to ask you-"

"Spit it out, lad." 

"So you know how Jacob has a full head of hair?" 

"You mean beautiful, thick blonde hair for a one-year-old?" He scoffed. "What about it?" 

"Well," Baler sighed. "Uncle Johnny thought it would be funny to make Jacob look like him-"

"Uncle Johnny is going to be looking like ground lamb if you're not joking," He scoffed, his mood quickly souring at Baler's words. "Send me a picture. Now." 

"What happened, babe?" Kiera asked, her brows furrowing. 

He sighed as he put the phone on speaker, "Repeat what you just said to me." 

"Hey momma," Baler chuckled out of nervousness. "Uncle Johnny gave Jacob a haircut." 

"Baler, sweetheart, you're lying through your teeth, and you know it. Johnny knows better-"

"No, he doesn't, love." Simon reminded her, arching his brow. 

"Baler, do you promise you're calling to tell us our precious baby boy received an unwanted haircut?" 

A few moments of silence pass by. 

"That's what I thought," She commented, reassuringly rubbing Simon's arm while they heard two sets of laughter on the other end of the phone. "He's just messing with you, babe." 

"He better fucking be." 

"Hey!" Baler chimed. "Mom said no cussing!"

Simon huffed in defeat, "Take the phone, please. That lad is going to make my blood pressure go up." 

"You forgot to mute me, dad!" Baler snickered. 

"Did he fall for it?" Soap chimed in from the background. 

Kiera giggled while she took the phone from Simon's hand, rolling over onto her stomach while he stood to his feet to walk across the room to pick up the room service menu, playfully tapping Kiera's rear when he sat back down on the edge of the bed, grasping her ankles and putting her feet on his lap, removing her shoes for her while his thumb gently massaged the arches of her feet while his other hand clasped the service menu. 

"Thanks for raising Simon's blood pressure, you two." Kiera giggled. 

"You two haven't been gone for an entire day and I've been itching to piss dad off," Baler snickered. "Johnny put me up to it." 

"Oh, I don't doubt he did. Jacob still has his full head of hair, right?"

"Yes, momma," Baler confirmed. "I can't say the same about Evie though..." 

Simon's head snapped towards the phone at the mention of Evie's name, "He better be bloody joking!" 

Baler and Johnny both laughed through the phone, "Perfect head of hair still, mate, we're just toying!" 

"You two don't need to be spending too much time together," Kiera giggled. "Nothing but trouble!" 

"Well, I didn't want to call with some boring conversation, momma," Baler chuckled. "Nana hasn't let them out of her sight." 

"I'm glad she hasn't." Simon commented, a breath of relief leaving his lips. 

"What've you been up to?"

"I just got home from school and am about to go take care of barn chores before I do my homework." 

"Good," She smiled. "How are Kimber and Church?" 

"Kimber is annoying. Church doesn't care about anything going on. He likes having the house to himself. Nana has been letting me stay with her so she can take me to school and so I can help her with the twins."

"I'm proud of you, baby," She smiled. "You make sure you keep up with your homework, okay?" 

"I will, momma. I miss you guys." 

"We miss you too. I'm already homesick." 

"Don't be. We've got the fort grounded here. Uncle Johnny is ready to fill in dad's shoes." 

"He has big shoes to fill." Simon commented. 

"I know. I told him that but he says he'd rather fill slippers than clown shoes." 

"Hang up on him." He replied sternly, although both Kiera and Baler both knew that he was being sarcastic. 

"Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in and make sure you two got to Vegas safe. I tried calling your phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Awe, thank you. You should know I'm always safe. I'm sorry, my phone died on the plane." 

"Okay, well I'm going to jump off here and finish the barn chores. I'll tell Nana to call you later."

"Okay, baby. Let me know how Sailor is!" She reminded, referring to her horse. 

"I can already tell you how he is: still a prick."

Baler's answer made Simon chuckle, "He's not wrong, love." 

She scoffed, "Whatever you say." 

"I'll talk to you guys later. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I love you, dad!" He chimed, knowing Simon loved him, but he genuinely enjoyed getting under his father's skin. 

"Love you too." 

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley #callofduty #simon riley x oc #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x og female #simon ghost riley x oc

[jenkinsknope]

Time for the annual year post lads

I am so glad 2022 is over. Going no contact with my mum is one of the most painful things I’ve ever gone through. I frantically had to find somewhere new to live after my landlord decided he wanted me out (presumably because I refused to pay more rent during my fixed term) and the communication from his office was confusing and appalling. I spent a lot of last year with a tense body and just about surviving. I really, really hope that 2023 is kind to me. 

But, as always, this is about pulling out the good things that happened.

1. I adopted a cat! I picked her up two days after my birthday and she is asleep in my lap as I’m writing this. She is so affectionate. She comes to meet me at the door whenever I return. Her walking towards me with a crooked tail and slow blinking is maybe my favourite thing in the world.

2. I feel a lot more confident in my abilities at work and I feel more comfortable giving my opinions. I was elected co-chair of the LGBT staff network and I like being in a leadership role. I’m good at it, because I’m organised and I’m responsive when people need me. 

3. I went on a bikepacking weekend for people of colour. It was my first time cycling off road and I definitely underestimated how challenging it would be, but it was also so much fun. We got to ride on top of a cliff with the sea below.

4. I cycled from London to Brighton and raised nearly £500 for the National Association of People Abused in Childhood. The scenery was beautiful and I actually really enjoyed the ride.

5. I went to Butch Please a bunch and helped host meet ups for people who needed a group to go with. I met and had some great conversations with queer people a couple of decades older than me.

6. I took on more responsibility in the mutual aid group I volunteer with and had relationships transition from acquaintance level to friend level. 

7. I made new friends through my cycling club including with someone who actively pursued being my friend! One of my fave evenings was a different friend’s birthday at the velodrome they work at. We did silly games around the track, hung out on the steps as the sun was setting and cycled under the moon. I spent a lot of time at the velodrome either getting my ass kicked at track or helping out with races and it was always fun. It’s nice to have a place that feels like a second home in a way. 

8. I was more vulnerable including disclosing some things about my childhood with a person I was dating. While that relationship didn’t work out, I’m proud of myself for trusting someone and turning away from shame.

9. I completed a counselling skills course which affirmed that I do want to be a therapist and I’ve been able to use some of the skills in conversations with friends. 

10. I saw Self Esteem and MUNA live and had a lovely and meaningful time at their gigs. 

#personal #year reflection

[ya-ya-sestrahood]

6, echoes from elsewhere

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

Tough one! I know it seems like the sort of story with a million unwritten details, and it probably would be in the hands of a different writer, but any world-building I do is strictly in service of the plot and not much beyond that. If you take a peek behind the curtain, you'll find a lot of empty space.

But hey, for you, I'll come up with some bonus facts now, one for each chapter. Not a huge fan of the retcon, so feel free to pick and choose which are canon. Spoilers follow.

1. When Helena takes Alison's hand to show her a past memory, she chooses one they both share: the night they met at Felix's apartment.

2. In timeline A, Sarah, Beth and MK were a near-unstoppable DYAD-fighting team and they grew close. MK was very fond of Kira.

3. 4KR919's real name is Petra.

4. It's a trap! There are hidden cameras watching Sarah throughout this chapter. Beth's mattress gun was planted just a few minutes earlier. It is, of course, not loaded.

5. Alison and Krystal started a two-person book club in their cells. Their taste in literature is surprisingly similar.

6. Sarah was Cosima's best man at her wedding. Sarah didn’t expect or want to cry during her speech, but she did.

7. The knowledge that Helena's other self put all her faith in Helena makes Helena question herself and whether she’s really any different from Tomas. Despite how it makes her feel, she decides to carry her other self in her heart. When she is first allowed a quiet moment alone, she mourns.

8. After the Ledas leave the apartment, Delphine with nothing else to do, looks through not-Beth’s notepad. The handwriting strikes her as oddly familiar, and soon, a terrible thought creeps into her mind. Shortly after, Rachel’s men burst through the door.

9. MK has only lost to Beth once at Scrabble (she drew 99% vowels). When she saw the look on Beth’s face as she won, MK wished they could live like this forever.

10. After everything goes down, MK becomes Krystal’s new cell neighbor. I have nothing more to say on this topic.

11. One Christmas Eve, Eloise managed to convince her mother to sit down for a Christmas movie marathon. Partly due to the holiday spirit and partly due to the rum she was allowed to add to her eggnog (her mother found the stuff revolting), she found her mother’s dry commentary to be the funniest thing in the world. It remains one of her most treasured memories.

12. In the nine years since she escaped the DYAD facility, Alison never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots. She managed a living working from the back of several small businesses, out of sight from the public, and was always popular among her co-workers. Much of her income went toward a series of private investigators, hoping to track down her family.

13. Sarah’s lullaby to Helena is one their mother used to sing to them, somewhere in a happier timeline.

14. Sarah finds a timeline in the infinite web where Jennifer Fitzsimmons, fully cured, has become a part of their family. Her heart is huge, and she’s fiercely loyal to her sisters, ready to drop everything and help when things are tough. In many ways, she’s the glue that holds them together. When Sarah breaks free, she feels a part of her has been lost.

15. There’s a strong part of Alison that doesn’t want to go back. When she finally finds Helena, she feels a huge weight lift from her shoulders. She finally found her family. Someone who knows who she really is, someone who knows the burden she’s carried all these years. And now that DYAD has stopped looking for them, they wouldn’t have to hide anymore. She feels that, in time, they could start to live again.

16. Remaining in Timeline F, Beth and unlikely ally Krystal work with a reluctant Rachel to free the other imprisoned Ledas and help rebuild their lives.

17. After Rachel’s parents were declared dead, her new sister became her life raft. When she cried, Veera was the only one there to hold her. She doesn’t cry anymore, but when she starts to feel the urge, she remembers the weight of her sister’s arms around her and she’s calm again.

#hey thanks for the ask anon #and for giving a crap about echoes #i appreciate you #echoes from elsewhere

[blackresedas]

after work, "my Friday"

No tattoos today. I cleaned up after my ex around the living room for an hour when I got home. She's a slob. I still need to vacuum and shove the PA and guitar amps into the front room.

I suspect she knows what's coming with me trying to straighten up the place. I'm going to tell her soon that G will come over. It'll be so rare, she doesn't even need to worry. I'm not expecting him to ever stay the night or hang out for long. Or even come over much at all except to fuck and listen to music afterwards. But I wonder if she'll get mad and stop working on the painting she's doing for me. That sounds really selfish of me, I know.

I finally have therapy in the morning at 11. I'm going to beg her for help with my obsession problem. I hate how it doesn't seem to be connected to my mood disorder. It's more like a personality issue, or just the way my brain works. Unfortunate. I've been torturing myself and have no idea how to stop.

His sweet texts lifted my mood today, but what if he hadn't texted? I would be absolutely miserable right now. That's not okay. See how my self-awareness doesn't help at all?

After cleaning I recorded a scratch guitar track of my second song, the Lord Snow-ish one I've been calling Nile. It's heavy and timing-based with no flashy guitar parts like the first "false emo" one that I've been calling Swans. [These track names suck, I gotta give them longer and more cryptic names typical of screamo.] It doesn't feel quite finished. It's under 2 minutes and needs a quiet/dissonant twinkly part. Maybe some lyrics for the end. I am gonna record vocals in my car tomorrow, maybe before therapy. I'm excited to send the guitar/vocals only demos to Nathan and Amber. Who cares about showing them to G. Lol!

I ate great today. I packed the perfect amount of food for lunch. I have to remember:

1/4 cup quick oats, scoop of protein powder, serving of collagen, 1/3 cup almond milk (at home)

fruit salad with apple, raspberries, blackberries, strawberries

turkey, low-fat Provolone, tomato, greens, onion, and mustard sandwich on keto bread

15 Nut Thins and 2 Laughing Cow light cheese wedges

salad with spring mix, spinach, cucumber, tomato, onion, olives, low-fat feta, balsamic, and parsley

at home I had a handful of cashews (should have omitted this), 2 small fish fillets, and a head of roasted broccoli.

Skipped lifting and biking today after going way too light yesterday, so I have to make sure to lift hard tomorrow. I will definitely want to go for a ride on my new saddle. I hope I can find that pink skate tool that I know is around somewhere. I bought a spare but it doesn't get here until Thursday. Maybe my mono black high tops will get here tomorrow, too.

#food diary #relationships #obsession #mental health #therapy #personal #might delete

[leftluminarytragedy]

How to Start Writing a Diary in 10 Steps

You can express your emotions, write down dreams or ideas, and reflect on your daily life in a secure, private setting by keeping a journal. There is no one set method for keeping a diary, but there are certain simple techniques you may use to make the most of your writing. Using starters like motivational quotations can help you start fresh entries if you’re stuck for ideas. Your thoughts, feelings, and opinions about anything—from job to school and everything in between, can be kept private in a diary.

1- Start Diary Writing by Following 10 Steps

How to start writing a diary? What are the things to write in a diary? There is no correct or incorrect approach or things to write in a diary. Everything comes down to personal liking and what works for you. However, I hope the following advice and tips on How to start writing a diary will help you get started.

2- Choose the type of diary that you desire.

A good diary will motivate you to write every day, so it is important to choose it wisely. You don’t have to limit yourself to maintaining a diary on paper; there are many different solutions available. You can utilize a private, password-protected website or blog in addition to keeping a traditional paper diary. You may also just use a computer document.

Paper notebooks allow you complete control and privacy, but without making copies, you won’t have a backup alternative. Remember that anything you keep online can be hacked, so even if your online journal is password-protected or secret, there’s still a chance someone could access it.

3-Ask yourself- WHY?

Before finding the answer to ‘How to start writing a diary?’, you must be clear with ‘why.’ Why do you want to keep a diary, you could ask yourself? – The importance of diary writing. Understanding why you want to keep a journal is the first step at the beginning of writing one. Maybe you want to start a new task, or maybe you just need a way to put your ideas down on paper. In either case, knowing why you want to keep a diary will help you choose the kind that’s best for you.

4- Things to write in a diary-

A regular diary- about routine tasks that you do

A food diary – about various food items (if you are foody)

A business idea diary – if you get business ideas and love to gather them somewhere

A creative writing diary- if you want to write your poems, articles, etc

A Travel diary – if you like to keep a record of places you travel.

It’s critical to keep in mind that journals are designed to be personal and private. This is a fantastic way to keep track of your daily thoughts and experiences. Journals can also be used to keep track of past objectives or goals that you have made. Blogging is a fantastic additional alternative to journaling. Through their own personal blogs, people from all over the world may communicate with one another and share thoughts and experiences.

Establish a schedule.

Set aside a particular time each day to write if you want to be sure you do it. Perhaps you prefer to write about the previous day first thing in the morning, or perhaps keeping a diary helps you decompress. It is more crucial to write every day than it is to write when. You can use your smartphone or your watch to set a reminder to write every day at the same time to ensure that you keep to your writing schedule.

READ MORE....Become the next great creator | Learn from the legends | mugafi

#.Become the next great creator #How to Start Writing a Diary in 10 Steps

[psyoungs]

hi love I hope it's okay with me asking, but I recently got into Girls Generation and know you're into them as well. Do you have any song recs/ favorites from them? Hope you're doing so well!!

the way i'm so geeked with an anon asking me about GIRLS GENERATION STUFF!? i know they're aren't enough blogs that still stan them but even so i'm flattered that you've asked me!!!!!!!! if you're ready to go down the rabbit hole, i'll let you know the songs that gotten me into them and it's funny enough because majority of it isn't their korean songs but mostly japanese, so i hope you're in that. i wanna say, every sone should know their japanese discography is so untouchable. this song, is like. the pinnacle of my snsd jpn experience and how i got into them in the first place.

here's a whole list of what i think you should hear:

paparazzi (song starts at 1:46)

my oh my

beep beep (it's a short mv but i'm sure you can find the full one somewhere! the whole song is so good)

time machine (this songs hurts good, it's start around 1:36)

divine (this hurt so much to listen to back then because they released this around 2014 [the year that jessica left] and the lyrics just 😥)

if you could ever find their albums online to listen to, i think you should really try girls and peace (animal is my favorite off of that album) and love & peace (karma butterfly is another, that performance is godsent)

now to their korean stuff:

forever 1 (i don't care if it was just released this year, this is their best title track)

hoot (she's a classic, it come second!)

igab (really to be in this era was heaven sent)

itnw (an actual classic, their debut still has a chokehold on korea's gg all the time)

all night (she really needs the recognition, i love her she was so perfect)

b-sides and some titles:

mr mr album: europa

igab album: LOST IN LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I WILL SHOUT THE ROOFTOPS ON HOW HEART WRENCHING THIS SONG IS), romantic st (it's a little boring but i still love this song), express 999, baby maybe.

lion heart album: bump it, check, one afternoon (another boring one but i enjoy it), you think

forever 1 album: forever 1, closer, mood lamp. but honestly all of the songs are so good, i think this is their best album musically.

anyways i think i wanna say, forever 1 is my favorite song from snsd ever. i think it really portrays what their music is known to be best. it's poppy but so nostalgic? and the lyrics are so meaningful to me since i've known them for all my youth and i'm currently 25. i'm so glad you're going to give snsd a chance <3 their really are the best girls to represent what 'girls generation' is currently for this 3-4th generation of music and what they've done for the industry.

please come back to tell me which one of your faves or if you found new songs from them that you enjoy!!!!! i would love to know <3 thank you again for coming here this got really long. hope you're day is going well annonie.

#replies #long post #i'm so sorry moots #text

[petekaos]

SEOULMATES —  방찬 & 필릭스 UNIT MINI ALBUM

#stray kids #skz #bystay #cb97net #yongboknet #bang chan #lee felix #chanlix #WHEW this was fun to make! i gotta make mockups more often haha #i am aware that a mini album has 5-7 tracks but this is a STORY okay #anyway i chose black n yellow bc those are the colours stays associate w chan n felix ig #my sister asked immediately if that's why i chose the colours so that's a win for rahul petekaos! #either way this album has a grunge lost city yearning growing up feel #and it's supposed to mirror chan and felix's own story of coming from sydney and finding a home in seoul #tracks 1-3 are about the hope of coming somewhere new for the first time and sort of feeling all happy about this new phase in your life #track 4 & 5 is about the loneliness that you feel in a big city where you know nobody and don't feel like you fit in and where the language #that you are actually supposed to know yet just doesn't curl around your tongue right is something you stumble upon #and track 6 is kind of the turning point ... you're alone // alive . you're alone but you're finding your home #and track 7 and 8 are just about finding home again. home in a new place #anyway i'm so glad chan and felix can call the dorms their home now <3 #3racha hire me for this concept LOL ! #this album would be hip-hop based i think. but outro / sydney / alone//alive would probably be more ... another day type-y #rahul.gfx #*skz

[astaroth1357]

How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer 

Near constantly. 

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes: 

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus 

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor 

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons