i would never use logic. that's appropriating vulcan culture.

Warning: Swearing

Background: Abyss

Status: Ongoing

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Peace by your side: Chapter two

'If you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you'

It's an interesting quote. When my English teacher had read it I almost paid attention. I look down at my notebook. It was blank of course.

It was kinda hard to focus when all I was thinking about was the conversation with Kyle this morning. I managed to make my way through math with Heidi trying to take my mind off it, but given it was the only class I had with her I was left to get lost in my own mind for the next four periods.

When I made it to my last period, English, I knew it would only get worse. Not just because we hardly had to do anything in this class but because Kyle was sitting five seats to my right. By some miracle, I hadn't lifted my head up to look at him yet but it was growing increasingly difficult.

Why can't we just be strangers? When other people stop being friends, they never bring it up again. Its like they stop existing in each other's lives, but Kyle was my life. I stopped living the minute we stopped talking.

I felt like if I grew up. That if I got a new interest, likes a new color, got friends he didn't know he wouldn't ever be able to fit into my life again. I would never get him back.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to get up and do something that would set both of us free from each other. Maybe egg his house? Slash his tires? Fucking something to get his eyes off of me right now!

I didnt even notice my breathing was getting heavier until the girl in front of me turned back and stared at me like I was crazy.

"Are you ok?" She whispered and I immediately nodded and fanned myself like maybe if I just pretended I was hot it would justify me being completely freaked out over nothing.

That seemed to satisfy her and when she turned back in her seat I finally gain the courage to look over at Kyle.

He was staring at me. And I was staring back.

A/N: Something small for yall I know it's not what yall want but school is kicking my ass rn.

Taglist: @southparkynnn @stephs-inluv @weird0o0 @jessiegerl @ringa-starr @bakusquadobsessed

i think teachers need a reality check.

now when i say teachers i don’t mean all of them. i have some very nice ones myself, they’re great i love them. but they are not without they’re flaws.

this doesn’t really have anything to do with my day i just thought it was something i needed to get off my chest yk.

this morning in first period (science btw) we had a substitute, we’ve had her before and she’s never been the best. when some people have trouble with questions and need help she doesn’t let anyone get up/just say what they’d need to do.

but that’s not really the point, she (i’ll call her Shark(when i see her outside of school it’s on sight).) acts all holier than thou and expects us, humble little baby children in her eyes i guess, to just do as she says even though we try and tell her that there’s a better way to do it, and that Ms. W (science teacher and softball coach) lets us do this and this. (and she does, btw, i might gaslight gatekeep girlboss but only when necessary.) when even a morsel of conversation starts, even if it’s so quiet no one would care, she’d yell and tell everyone to stop talking. i’m sure she’s somewhat justified in telling people to shut up but she really doesn’t have to be so aggressive with it honestly.

on another subject, in third hour we had to do a socratic seminar and i carried. we all did but i brought up a lot of things people didn’t think of so in my head i carried and everyone was in awe and that’s all that matters.

then we went to lunch, which is after fourth period which is kinda just a brain break i guess?????

we had this like, freezer burnt tiny ass ice cream and i didn’t want it so i let my friend have it but the lid to it had a bunch of the top on it and the cup that it was in was sitting on top of that. when he took it the lid flipped over and started melting on the table. after he dumped his plate he noticed and we had a small little tiny argument about who’s fault it was (he cleaned it up).

then fifth hour is math, we had to retake a test, kinda sucked kinda didn’t. math is chill.

then i went to gym and got hit in the nose with a kickball. it sucked. i told her (E, she hit me. i don’t think it was on purpose tho.) that since we ride the same bus i would follow her off and fight her in her drive way. (joke btw, we fuck with each other like this :3c)

seventh hour we didn’t have anything to do so i watched kung fu panda 2 because that’s one of my favorite movies ever.

then eighth hour we just answered some questions for social studies and it was chill the whole time honestly.

hope my silly thing has found you well, mysterious person on the other side of my phone screen. :3

VENT INCOMING

ok so the last few days my dad and I have been working our asses off to prepare me for my math exam, my dad is really passionate about it and pretty much educated himself on all the material to teach me, because I’ve been absent from that class for medical reasons. We watched videos, did TONS of exercises from the coursebook, we spent entire DAYS preparing for everything that was on the study guide and then some, I worked and worked until I could do all the exercises perfectly. I knew all the formulas, my parents were congratulating me, I was so confident that I would ace this exam.

Come the day of the exam, I look at the paper and I’m immediately anxious because it looks so much harder than everything I studied (which is EVERYTHING). I tried to calm myself down and do as much as I could, but it quickly became clear that the exercises on the exam were WAY more difficult than those in the coursebook. Some of them asked for things that we didn’t even cover. I started crying and asked the attending teacher if I could call my dad. I called him and explained what was going on, but he couldn’t really do anything from a distance, so he told me to just do the things I did know. I did, but the grand majority of the problems were impossible to solve with the material we learned. I checked multiple times if it was the right exam. My math teacher (the one who smells) came to sit next to me and just went “hey, you did this one right!!! Just try your best to do the others!!!”, completely disregarding the exercises that I literally couldn’t finish. Eventually I had to give up because there was nothing else I could do. At this point I was just pissed. Me and my dad worked ourselves to the bone in 31 degree Celsius weather to ace this exam with all the material we’d been given, and then it was all for nothing. I already noticed this in some previous tests, but this exam confirmed it; I’m actually really good at math if I try my best and it’s taught correctly, my teacher is just an asshole who makes his tests way harder than the material we learned. All of the attending teachers, including him, were acting like I was just insecure about my abilities, BUT I WASN’T. I did all of the exercises PERFECTLY just yesterday, I was completely confident that I understood all the principles and knew how to make the exercises. After some more back and forth and drama, they called my dad to pick me up (without my prompting, might I add) and I had to hand in this exam mostly blank.

NOW, the principal apparently told my dad that we have to go get a doctor’s note so I could be excused from this exam. I, the person who was given an impossible exam and pretty much had a panic attack, have to get a doctor’s note to justify my inability to do the exam. Still heavily implying that there’s something wrong with ME because I couldn’t do an exam I wasn’t prepared for. We actually have to go to a doctor in the near future so she can write a note explaining why I didn’t finish the exam (I still for the life of me can’t figure out what she’s gonna write. “My teacher was too much of an asshole to finish this exam”??), which also interferes with my studies for my other exams.

I seriously don’t know why the fuck this is allowed. Or how any of my classmates could possibly pass this exam. I was even given the teacher’s notes to study from, because I’m not physically going to his class anymore. How the fuck is there something wrong with me because I couldn’t do an exam that I was never properly prepared for? My dad couldn’t even look at the exam, so I couldn’t prove my point to him (he does believe me and shares my opinion, but no one else is listening to me). I don’t understand how they can blame this on me. What am I even supposed to say to a doctor? Why are they so fucking unfair on me and trying to pin the blame on me? Agggggggggggggh I’m just so angry rn I don’t even have the words

2022. I did a lot of suffering in silence this year, but honestly I feel like that’s what saved me really. This year in particular, I had a lot to say. A lot of pain, a lot of built up anger and rage. But I didn’t pop off. Instead, I isolated myself from it. From everything and almost everyone. Real time tough decisions, but in the grand scheme of things, has set me up for my future. Not everything needs to be said. And what’s helped me grasp that concept is to think before you speak. To put things in its proper perspective, and not over analyze the situation at hand. Truly, it’s human nature to over analyze. But the longer we think about something, and think on what “could’ve” been or what “should’ve” been, the further we stray away from reality at hand. It’s okay to feel the way you feel, there’s more thank likely multiple ways to justify how you feel. But, from experience, I’ve also learned that our feelings can detour us from what reality is actually trying to tell us. It’s hard to see clear when your emotional. At the start of this year, I was blinded by my emotions. I can say now that even though I’ve accepted the fact that this pain might b a forever thing, that it’s up to me to remain poised no matter what. And to, once again, control what I can and let that be my focus in everything I do. I isolated myself this year because I desperately needed to come back to me. And wit time, I realized I had never really left, that I’d been here, amongst my suffering. I just had to get consistent again, get my rhythm back when it came to this life shit. And simply believe in me again. And now, things are looking up. I’m moving back to Australia. I’ll be playing professional basketball, and I’m beyond excited about it. This year, I’ve gotten a chance to play in two different countries. The Maldives and Uruguay. Where I learned two very important lessons. While in the Maldives, I really had to trust in me again. Prior to going to play there, I was teaching third grade math. My first time being a teacher, and something that I’m actually really good at. I told myself if I got a offer to play somewhere, that I’d take it, despite not physically or mentally being at my best. And trust that I was meant for this. The Maldives was challenging, there was times where I struggled wit my mental health. And I didn’t feel like I had anyone to really talk to about. I just talked to me. My second country, Uruguay, taught me a little more about me. This summer, I had gotten my car stolen down in LA. Stayed in LA for about a month, not really doing a whole lot of anything. Mentally, I knew I was gonna get my car back though. Things were working out for me up to that point, and truly I felt like it was because the previous year, everything thrown at me I handled wit care. So after I got my car back, I got back to the grind. Worked my ass off for like two months, and got signed to a agent and got a deal in Uruguay. Uruguay was good to me, but challenging nonetheless. Due to the language barrier, I was naturally isolated. All I was focused on though was securing another deal after this. So I worked my ass off. And really started believing in me again. I played real well in Uruguay, by far my best basketball in my professional career. And despite isolating myself from most, I received a lot of love from people I didn’t really know. And it felt great. It felt organic, and it was all from hard work and being thankful. And now, I’ll be heading back to Australia for 2023. What 2022 really taught me was to trust the process. And to really just trust me again. 2020/2021 really tried to kill me inside and out. But deep down, I just remembered what I’ve been through up until this point. And how I was still here, despite so much being thrown at me and just the overall feeling of being overwhelmed. I’m not a cocky person, I know and I won’t forget where I’ve came from. Everything I’ve gone through and survived was not by accident. I’m suppose to be here. And I’m thankful to still be here, in this position. I’m gonna take this as far as I can. It’s a marathon

hi!! could i request a diluc x fem!reader angst where they were childhood friends, and when reader gets a fiancé, diluc tries to confess his feelings but reader rejects him, gets married and moves from mondstat, and every now and then diluc sends reader letters (apologizing, asking how readers day was, hoping they come back). thanks!

unrequited

plot: reader rejects the character

contains: diluc

warnings: angsty and like one curse word, that’s all

diluc was a cute kid.

as the heir to one of the most wealthy and powerful families in mondstadt, he was polite not only to his senior, but also incredibly nice to his friends, as well. different that most boys his age, he didn’t go around yelling dumb, inappropriate jokes, and didn’t take pride in making girls feel bad.

he was always sweet to those doing worse than him in class, be it theory or sparring, and acted like an absolute saint to his adopted brother.

naturally, how could one not adore a kid like that? how could the mondstadt girls not line up to see him each time, how could the boys not want to play with him? how could anyone resist, when he had that charm to him that seemed to draw people near almost against their free will?

finally, how could you not take pride in the fact that out of all those over-the-top girls who fought over each other to talk to him, out of all those boys that never failed to bug him in each little scrap of his free time, he chose to try and get close to you?

you didn’t understand it at first, but it seemed like he genuinely wanted to know you, his eyes looking as though they were studying your expression at all times, a warm smile welcoming you each time you passed him by.

his words were careful and his sentences always strained, as if he struggled to talk, but a sense of honesty and genuine sympathy always seeped through his words, confusing your little childish brain, but also forming a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. 

over the years, not only did you finally answer to his advances, but also befriend the kid. his rare smiles were reserved for your eyes only, and his mind opened up before you each and every time you talked, no restrain and limitations between you two. 

he’d sit behind you in class, sometimes passing you notes with an answer to questions you didn’t know, or a funny note about the teacher, or just simply asking if you want to hang out after school. 

you’d go to windrise and sit under the tree, talking for hours about the most useless of things, about what you thought the clouds looked like, but also your futures, your dreams and hopes. 

he’d explain math to you before every exam in the dark rooms of dawn winery, hair pulled up and tea made for the both of you, looking at your struggling with unmistakable patience and affection, but what could you know? you were kids, barely even teenagers. why would you think anything of the way he said he’ll “always be there for you” after some simple math tutoring? how could you analyze his kind stare that you never saw him wear for other people? 

and so you didn’t. 

he’d sit with you on the counter of his kitchen, carefully caressing your back as you wet his shirt with tears, quietly telling you that “they didn’t deserve you anyway” after your first ever heartbreak. to hell with the fact that his own heart was breaking a millimetre more with every word he spoke, if what he said calmed you in any way, he’d talk all night, going on and on about how you deserve the world, and nothing less. 

you held his hand at his fathers memorial service, letting him tighten his grip on your fingers harder every time, you wiped away the tears, you listen to his sobs and pleas when the two of you were alone. you offered solace to him over the next painful months, you justified every word he hurt kaeya with, only to make him feel better about himself. 

to him, you were like an angel sent from above. you restored the faith he had lost in the world, you stuck by his side and lighted up his days one after the other, how could he not adore you?

how could he not fall in love? 

and trust when i say, he did really try to avoid it. he tried pushing his thoughts away, he tried focusing on something else, tried avoiding you, tried everything. no matter what he did, his mind circled back to your smile, and unconsciously he smiled as well, even if the next second he’d look in the mirror and wipe it off his face as if it was a crime to smile. 

diluc was a cute kid, and he grew up to be a polite gentleman, whom you called a friend. and as any polite gentleman, he wouldn’t dare do anything to loose the honor you had given him, so he stayed silent. stayed silent since his in-class notes, through talks about the future, through your breakups, through all the times you had been there for him. in no universe would he ever mention how the weight was lifted off his shoulders every time you as much as looked his way, how all the clouds went away at the sound of your laugh, and how he was ready to do anything in the world to keep you happy. 

somewhere in his mind, perhaps he thought you had somehow known all along, and would reward his efforts to not complicate your life with his emotions with loving him back, but how could you know? how, if he kept it a secret that well? 

in the end, his own plan backfired on him, and he realized he had lost when you ran through his door, tears in your eyes, but a smile on your face, showing off a ring, shining in sunlight, resting on your finger.

if he ever thought “they didn’t deserve you” hurt him, “i’m so happy for you!” stabbed his soul a thousand times more painfully. 

to normal people of mondstadt, there was no change in behavior from the gloomy and serious owner of angel’s share, but a few noticed how heavy his presence was, how desperately he blinked back the sheen layer of tears, glistening in the candle light while he was serving drinks, and you were off somewhere in the back, laughing with your lover by your side. 

he had lost his chance, and now there was no way in which he could get you back. no way at all. all his life, he had built up a hope inside that one of these days, he’ll get a happy ever after, and lived with that thought through all the bad moments that came along the way, and now these years of carefully building this scenario came crushing down with the realization. 

in a desperate search of any relief, he came to the conclusion that the only thing to be even remotely at peace with himself was to... simply just tell you. 

so there he was, right outside your door, the watch on his wrist striking ten in the evening, stars shining brightly on your doorstep, as you appeared before him, merely a nightgown shielding you from the cold air of the night, a soft smile adoring your lips from the moment you realized it was him. 

“diluc? what’re you doing here this late?” you said, grabbing a coat from behind the door and closing it behind you. a foolish hope sprung inside him when you joined him outside, as he stared at you with a little grin, working up the courage to speak up. 

“there’s something i wish to tell you about” he merely whispered, gesturing you to come with him.

the walk to windrise was longer than the ones you remembered from your childhood days, and the sharp air nibbled on your skin mercilessly, to the point your legs hurt a bit when you reached the tree.

diluc turned your way and spoke for the first time in what felt like forever, but was thirty minutes.

“i hoped not to burden you with the secret i’ll share with you now, and i’m sorry for whatever bad outcome it might cause, but… truth is, i can’t keep it to myself anymore, and if i want to have some peace for myself, i have to trouble you with it.” he said quietly, settling worry in your gut.

“you can tell me anything” you assured calmly “your secrets are always safe with me”

he took one last look into your caring eyes, feeling a little better just having you smile at him, and took a breath before spilling.

“i might’ve been in love with you for the last ten years” he said calmly “and i know this is hardly the time, i really do, but i just-“

“what?”

you looked at him in surprise, blood audibly pumping through your veins as you tried to comprehend what he just said.

“i do understand that you’re engaged, but-“

“do you? do you, really?” you said bitterly, making his heart sink in regret. “because to me it seems like i waited for you all those years, i hoped, and i prayed, and i wished, and after i finally, finally gave up, you decide to mess with my emotions right when i thought i had them figured out?”

diluc was stunned. so you felt the same way about him, once? he could’ve had all he hoped for? he didn’t even comprehend the rest of your sentence fully, focusing on how you just admitted to having feelings for him somewhen in the past.

“no, i’m not trying to mess with you, I’m-“

“but you are! honestly, diluc, i knew you were somewhat insensitive, but this is blatantly cruel! what- i don’t- why didn’t you say this to me earlier?”

“i wish i did, but to me it seemed like you were always chasing someone else, and i didn’t want to-“

“bother me? is that it? you didn’t want to bother me so now you decided to try and mess with my relationship? god, i- i need to be alone right now. sorry.”

and with that you were out of your usual childhood spot, leaving him alone under the tree that shared both of your secrets and plans for so long.

a longing stare pierced through your back as you ran back to mondstadt, not going home right away, but trying to find a spot where nobody would find you.

“fuck” he muttered. he was familiar with the feeling of loss, but the fact that it was nobody’s fault but his own made it a hundred times worse.

diluc was a cute child, and grew up to be a polite gentleman. so he was there to apologize to you on countless occasions, ready to beg forgiveness for his recklessness and lack of thought, but you were never there to hear his pleas.

and so it went on, a huge wedding covered the streets of mondstadt in white while he stood in the sidelines, his friends said goodbye to you as he watched from a safe distance. you left, and so did every remaining proof of his embarrassment.

nevertheless, he sent countless letters, no address on the envelope, save for the name of the city, hoping that one of them would eventually reach you. sorrow and tears almost spilled from the words written in a tidy cursive, but he never had any certainty about wether they reached you or not.

and while he hoped you forgave him,

he knew you didn’t.

⭐️ Bei Mir Bist Du Schön

FIC SPOILERS AHEAD!

Bei Mir Bist Du Schön on AO3

He opened his mouth to thank Essek but what came out instead was, “Deine Augen sind wunderschön.”

Essek stared at him, perfectly neutral save for the subtle rise of stark white eyebrows. “I don’t speak Zemnian,” he said, flashing his customary, placid little smile.

This is early Essek, well before c2e097, so this is a fully calculated move. That stare is him running simulations in his head, as it were, weighing his options, and he finally decides that he can learn more about Caleb if the guy thinks he doesn’t understand these little asides.

And boy did he ever just learn something juicy.

The second time, he was feeling petulant. Essek was normally a very patient and talented teacher, but there came a time when they butted heads over the best way to work a spell: Essek’s experience and Caleb’s contradicted each other, and neither was willing to admit that he was wrong because they weren’t. Caleb couldn’t have said why they were getting spirited over it. It was unlike them to lock horns this way, and the condescension chafed fiercely.

To my understanding, Wildemount never—at least post-Calamity—had a continent-spanning culture like the Roman Empire that would standardize learning across regions, and the Empire and Dynasty have utterly lacked in cultural exchange pretty much throughout their histories; so I reason that their approach to magic must be very damn different right down to the fundamentals. But, I also reason, magic is like math, in that there’s more than one way to come to a given conclusion—so the same spell cast by an Imperial mage might use different theory and somatic/verbal components with the same results.

I love fic that plays homage to cultural differences, so I figured that there must surely come a point where Caleb and Essek quibble about how to do a thing, with the crux being that they’re both right.

In a fit of pique, he muttered, “Du hast Glück, dass du abartig schön bist, denn du bist so ein Arsch.”

Essek’s head whipped up so fast that, for a moment, Caleb thought maybe he understood after all—but Essek just squinted at him without recognition and said, “I beg your pardon?”

Essek’s poker face is doing triple duty here because Caleb just said he’s hot af but also a dick, and this isn’t a sentiment Essek hasn’t heard before, but it hasn’t really gotten under his skin like it does this time.

Caleb passed a hand over his face and scratched at the beard he desperately needed to shave off. “Nothing,” he lied, “just annoyed with myself. This should be a moment of discovery, now that we know this can go either way. A door has unlocked and we’re both pulling it shut. Can we start again?”

The slip, and Essek’s reaction to it, made Caleb realize that they were both being dillweeds about the whole thing and it wasn’t going to move them forward at all.

It was—of course, of fucking course the intonation mattered. “A tonal shift,” he breathed. He took Essek by the lapels of his robe and shook him gently, and blurted out, “Ich könnte dein Gehirn küssen und dann deinen Mund.”

“What the hell is going on,” Nott squeaked at the same time as Essek chuckled almost nervously, “Caleb, I don’t—”

Hot boi damn near let the cat out of the bag right here. It’s certainly not that he specifically did not want to be smooched at all, but more that 1) Nott was RIGHT THERE so it would be mortifying, 2) he’s still very D: about physical contact and this point, and 3) he’s still very privately going “fuck fuck fuck WHY a HUMAN” about his own attraction to Caleb. There is very much a part of him that Wants That, but the rest of him is just not coping with it at all just yet.

The following morning, though, all he could think about was Dein Bett wäre besser and Essek’s careful fingers touching his face.

Both of them are fully mortified with themselves. They’re ridiculous. I see Caleb heading back to the Xhorhaus with shoulders bunched up, brow furrowed, and wide eyes glued to his own feet as his brain screams “DEIN BETT WÄRE BESSER” at him, mockingly, over and over. Slipping up and confessing your attraction to your crush is relatably horrifying (gods, I’ve been there, it’s awful) and Caleb is predisposed to beat himself up to begin with. Add in the rest of the party making a big deal over the fact that he spent the night over at Essek’s towers and you’ve got an abject storm in that little ginger head of his.

It did not help matters that no matter how much he insisted that nothing happened, the Mighty Nein were dead set on believing that he’d slept with his mentor, and they spent the next three days teasing him about it, none of them aware that he was simultaneously tormenting himself.

Okay so I try to be good and not talk shit about my own work these days, but that sentence just landed in a belly flop for me. I’m not sure it actually gets across what I’d meant, which was that Caleb was beating himself up for a different reason than what they all thought.

In the midst of a messy ambush by three of the wolf-cat eye-beasts, one of them managed to get the drop on Caleb, and it pinned him, screaming, to the ground. Its claws dug fiery punctures into either side of his chest. He thrashed, trying to get both hands up to cast, but it would be too late—his reflexes weren’t good enough. His body had never been nearly as sharp as his mind, and he was about to pay the price in the form of massive, dagger-like fangs lunging towards his throat. He screamed again, chest nearly frozen with fear, when—

Adventurers are generally made of tough stock, but I really wanted to dig into the POV of someone who’s being attacked by a terrifying cerature intent on ripping them apart. “You take 12 piercing damage and are knocked prone” is mechanical and dry; I wanted to show the full in-character implications of those mechanics.

Another fic that represents game mechanics narratively to absolutely stunning affect is Hard Mouth by road_rhythm, which I cannot recommend highly enough. I wrote Bei Mir before Hard Mouth started posting but had it been the other way around, it 100% would have been an inspiration in that regard.

He could not help but murmur, “Götter, ich bins so verschossen in dich.”

Fun fact: I got myself the book Talking Dirty German specifically for writing Caleb dialogue, and it really came in handy here. This idiom is from that book, as did abartig schön. The literal translation is “Gods, I am so shot into you,” which coming to think of it sounds a wee bit dirty but is figuratively very sappy.

Speaking of sappy….

“Das Gefühl ist Gegenseitig,” came the warm and sleepy reply.

Part of this is Essek being barely-conscious, but the bulk of it is this—and this is basically giving away the whole way the fic progresses: pretending not to know Zemnian began as a manipulation tactic to get intel, then became a game of “Let’s see how long it takes you to figure this out, smart boy” as their bond grew and Essek stopped deliberately trying to throw Caleb off, and finally when they were a couple he figured it would be cruel and pointless to keep up the ruse, especially since he’d been growing to appreciate pet names in their mother tongues.

Caleb took a deep breath, set his tea aside, and launched himself at Essek, who yelped, laughing, and danced out of his grasp. Essek led him on a merry chase around the kitchen and held out as long as he could before crying mercy at Caleb’s vicious tickling.

You know, I probably shouldn’t point this out in case my readers hadn’t cottoned onto it yet either, but it wasn’t until like a week after publishing this that I stopped and thought, “WTF happened to Essek’s teacup? Did he take the time to set it down? Did it get dropped and shatter? Did he show off and levitate it?? Did he bring it with him and get tea all over the place and himself?!” Smh…. Choose your own explanation, I guess, lmao.

The rolls were a little burnt that morning, but Caleb had no regrets.

Part of me feels like this is kind of a weak ending, but I justify it to myself by remembering how hard Caleb regretted his slip-ups over the course of the fic. He spends a good bit of copy beating himself up over them, so ultimately I think it fits, even if it kinda lacks punch.

Descendants of Despair Part 9

Duskwood - JakexMC fanfic

Contains swearing and references to abuse types

Note: Much of this fictional backstory is improbable but was needed to give depth to the MC character (intelligence, street smarts/survival skills, manipulation and trust issues)- to make her reactions more understandable and leads on to explain other details later. 

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Once again I found myself becoming uncomfortable under Jake’s intense gaze so I found myself lowering my eyes, consumed in thought. It appeared as though he was analysing everything about me, trying to hack into the very core of my being. Frustratingly, I couldn’t even justify getting angry at his actions. I had been doing exactly the same, maybe not as obviously, but every step of the way I had been covertly watching and analysing everything he had messaged, said or did. It made sense really, for both of us. Understanding the situation I was in at all times was the only thing that had kept me alive for years now. I imagined this would be the same for him. Our situations may have been vastly different, but instinctively, when faced with danger, we all developed our own safety mechanisms. It was that, or submit.

Jake cleared his throat, which brought me back to reality. “Sorry,” I mumbled. This elicited a sigh from Jake. 

“Don’t be, I could start talking too but...let’s just say I get where you are coming from.” His fingers grazed against the table top in frustration. “It is like we are on a fucking knife edge. It is impossible to just sit back and ignore this, but...what I have to tell you… it could have you running for the hills and permanently ridding yourself of me. I may have a few tricks up my sleeve, but from what I have witnessed these past few days, so do you and I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that if you don’t want to be found, it would be damn near impossible for me to do so.” Jake lowered his eyes, watching his fingers grating against the rough surface of the table. “I would willingly let you go...if that was what was best for you...but not knowing you were safe...how the fuck could I even function with that possibility.” 

I had remained quiet through Jake’s speech. He was in much the same state as myself, talking to himself as much as to me. “You realise that everything you have just said is the same pressure I have right now. My past isn’t exactly rainbows, unicorns and fluffy kittens you know.” I groaned.

“Touché,” Jake admitted. “So,what? Paper, scissors, rock to see who starts?” He suggested with a wry smile. 

“No, I’ll begin. Look I already know a bit more about you than you do about me. During our conversations on the phone, I put more pressure on you to reveal information than you ever did to me. That was manipulative of me…” I took a deep breath in to mentally prepare myself for the conversation that was about to follow. To his credit, Jake waited patiently, his gaze flicking between me and the tabletop.

“Okay, remember a while ago when we were making small talk. You asked a specific question and it was the first and only time I have ever logged off before you...especially without answering..” “Mm” Jake mumbled. 

“You asked about my family and at the time I didn’t tell you. It isn’t a short story and it isn’t exactly something I am quick to admit to. I have to tell you now.” I began. Jake stopped moving his fingers over the tabletop for a minute as he looked at me. “Okay, uh I guess I will start at the beginning” I grinned, buying myself a little composure time. 

“A wise place to start” Jake muttered dryly, causing me to laugh. 

“Smartass” I groaned.

 “Okay, I don’t exactly have a family. At least not one I know. The day after I was born, my parents walked out of the hospital and never came back for me. The nurses kept me there for a while as they tried to find where my parents were. Anyway, somehow I contracted an infection from the hospital and I was kept in until that was resolved. Unfortunately this had the negative impact of being classed as potentially being a sickly child...Foster care parents don’t generally willingly take a sickly child, unless they are really serious. There are several kinds of foster care parents. The genuine ones that aim to one day adopt, the ‘kid collectors’, the ‘save the relationships’, the ‘have a gifted kid’…” The list does go on a bit. Anyway, abuse is fairly commonplace in the majority of these homes. The abuse could be emotional, physical or sexual in nature….” the crack in my voice betrayed my emotion and Jake cast me a concerned look. He hesitantly reached a hand towards me but pulled it back before we touched. 

I swallowed sharply then began my story again. “By the time I was 6, I was in a pretty dire situation...I won’t go into much detail here, maybe one day but...not yet. I remember staying awake late into the night contemplating. I cried a lot that night. Before dawn, I packed the few belongings I had and left. I had made the decision to try and make it on my own. It was a terrifying thought. I knew the world outside would be dangerous but I also knew I wouldn’t survive long where I was. I was glad I had left when I did, the sun was beginning to rise so my surroundings weren’t quite as scary. I made my way to the “ghetto” part of town and people watched for a while. I saw an elderly woman sitting on the bench near the railroad. I watched her for a bit and established she likely had a drinking problem. I recognised the telltale signs from watching my foster carer drink. I knew what alcohol could potentially do to somebody but she seemed safe enough so I approached her and asked if I could sit with her for a while. She took a look at my appearance and must have decided I needed help. She became my only caregiver and first real teacher. She taught me to read, write and simple math using things we found lying around. I maintained a cool and wary distance from her. I knew she wouldn’t hurt me herself but I also knew she would sell me for a drop of alcohol if it came to that.”

Part 10

Personality disorders develop early. How can we judge people for developing these problems as small children going through trauma?

Trigger warning for physical, emotional, and verbal abuse, as well as emotional invalidation and early depended problems. (My depended was another 4 year old when I was 4 and she was mean, lol). This involves childhood abandonment too.

I started showing signs of dpd as a small child.

I had a friend I was obsessed with at the age of 4. I needed her approval to feel good about anything, and it crushed me when she told me that she thought I looked weird because of my new glasses, which I was very proud of.

I remember that around age 7, I drew her a very big picture of a park with apple trees and taped it together, and she threw it on the ground, and I was devastated and went to go cry in the bathroom. My mother followed and angrily told me to get over it. I couldn't understand why she was angry at me for having feelings.

She left the church program I was a part of, so I started focusing on another girl who I had previously gotten very angry at for daring to sit next to to my friend, and obsessed over our friendship.

During this early childhood period, I had a lot of separation anxiety from my parents. I would cry when my dad had to go to the store, and felt terrified and empty when I found out that my mom would be helping out in the program and so I wouldn't know exactly where she was the whole time. She told me I couldn't go back and be upset about it because I already told her it was okay. She also threatened to leave whenever I would do anything she didn't like, including reacting negatively to myself or my brother having our hair pulled and being slammed into walls (with our mouths covered if we were screaming for her to stop), and one time she did leave for a few hours...

I remember that I would never eat cookies given to me before lunch by Sunday school teachers because my mom had said it wasn't okay, and absolutely told them I wouldn't no matter how many times they told me it was okay. I didn't want to get hurt or screamed at.

My brother did it and he didn't get in trouble, which definitely confused me. Speaking of my brother, I also learned that if he was mean, it was just as bad if I called him mean. I had to use the word "unkind."

I also refused to acknowledge what my mom did to me as wrong, because she would always tell me what I did wrong afterwards, and in order to remain attached and thus soothe my separation anxiety, I had to justify to myself that my mom was always a good person who, in her words, just "lost her patience." I would be angry at other mothers who displayed the same traits, though, and vilify them for the day in my mind. I had to overlook abuse to survive emotionally.

I saw her mistakes as understandable due to a mixture of her manipulation and my own emotional survival, but couldn't handle my own mistakes and felt my self esteem crushed by them. When I found out around age 9 that I couldn't do math on my own anymore, I didn't want to try before being shown what to do, and this caused me to have a lot of arguments with my dad. I was previously always being treated like a gifted child by everyone due to very good memory that my mom nurtured in order to prove to her mother that she was a competent teacher, so I thought I must just be bad at some things. I didn't want to try only to fail. I needed instant gratification in order to feel good enough, and I had really bad self esteem when I wasn't the best... I kind of gave up when I wasn't being pushed in some areas, for a really long time, until I almost failed my math class in the 8th grade.

So as you can see, I developed several traits of DPD early on:

• Relying on one person to tell me if I was worth something

• along with criticism piercing my soul relationship hopping if someone leaves (disclaimer that now that I'm in a committed relationship I don't do that anymore)

• a reluctance to express my feelings that developed from being shamed for them, being unable to do anything without being given permission for fear that I would be hurt later on for it

• submissiveness to avoid being abused

• inability to do work on my own because without guidance I didn't think I could do anything new

I didn't realize that I wasn't neurotypical. My maladaptive behaviors were all defense mechanisms to protect me. I was wired for intense anxiety already based on my genetics... so when my mom made me her punching bag nearly every day for 3 years, and began disregarding my feelings from a young age, I had to protect myself somehow.

How are we supposed to heal from personality disorders when they develop so young? Seriously...

Also, why are we judged for adapting to complex trauma as if we could help having to survive? Shouldn't our abusers be shamed for making us have to adapt in ways that were harmful to ourselves and others?

I'm so tired.

Hello I was hoping your blog could help me.💖

I am suspecting I might have ADHD especially with remote learning. I have trouble paying attention in class especially math class which is the class I'm least interested in. I would start an assignment in class because we had to and then I wouldn't work on it again until the day before it's due, and I wouldn't have time to ask my teacher about it so I would just have to complete it. I also would get up and walk around after class and would have trouble sitting down and doing homework. Some assignments I finished past midnight even through school ends around 2pm and got distracted with YouTube and Tumblr(although maybe it's just a technology addiction I don't know).

I wander around downstairs because I get bored of sitting down in my room and I have repeated behaviors of getting up to close doors even though I know they would soon be open again. I wander more and tug at my fingers when I'm alone downstairs(I might also speed walk and there have been times I've shook my hands to burn off energy). I also can't work without background noise or too much background noise while I'm trying to read something (for example one time in school I started to cry a little when kids were being too noisy for me to work although I was already frustrated with my classmates from the class before). I often sing to myself while working on school work (which I don't know if that counts as verbal stimming). When reading something even if I'm interested in it my brain often scans over it and I can't pay attention. My Mom often tells me to put my mind it what I'm doing when I zone out (which might cause my body to go on autopilot)

I daydream A LOT and they are very vivid stories with characters that I like to think are based off of myself. It's mostly about tv shows or movies, and can be triggered by music.

When it comes to things like eating when I'm focused on my device or a drawing I tend to forget about it and delay it (for example I could wake up at 2pm and not eat a thing until 7pm). Since I can't go to the library I read an audiobook that I really liked and spent a lot of the night reading it and most of the next day so I probably didn't eat until late afternoon (maybe it's because the book was super interesting since as I said before it's hard for me to read less interesting things). For my online bookclub I usually have to listen to audiobooks while drawing to get through the stories.

Rejection sensitivity dysphoria is something I relate to because as far back as kindergarten I could remember being told I quote "shut down" when I was corrected. And during middle school a teacher yelled at me for sharpening a colored pencil and I guess I forgot in the moment that it was bad for the sharpener and I cried in my next class and thought that I should buy that teacher a new one (even though the old one wasn't broken). Or when I did a presentation and I made a joke at the end and no one laughed so I went to the bathroom to cry and another time a teacher (I'd like to add that all the reactions from the examples I listed are justified I'm just dramatic) justifiably corrected me on an assignment and she asked me if I wanted to go to the bathroom (I think she noticed I was tearing up before I did) I don't like that this happens because criticism is good but I even get upset when I expect it to happen.

I did benefit from the pomodoro technique so maybe I should keep doing it. Alot of the procrastination issues happened near the end of the school year and I got desperate so I talk to the school psychologist (I got advice in an email) and we chatted a few times and will hopefully continue to when school starts again. Something I would like to add is that I think ADHD is hereditary and I have atleast one sibling questioning if they have it and the other ones show similar signs. I'm afraid to tell my parents even though ones a therapist since I don't know if they will take me seriously and I have taken online quizzes (which I know are not always accurate but I only have so many resources). I'm also considering autism since it's similar adhd (although I relate more to adhd) I also doubt I have any sensory issues or atleast none that I'm currently aware of. To be honest I'm not sure if I'm projecting symptoms and some things I didn't know until I learned about them.

I know you can't give me a diagnosis but I was wondering if these were worth considering and maybe bringing up at a doctors appointment or something. Thankyou for your time and have a good day or night 😁

Hey there,

I think that from all the you are experiencing and going through that you should definitely talk to your local doctor or GP.

What you are going through sounds really full on and a doctor will be able to help diagnose you if you do have ADHD or something similar like autism or something completely different. It is through a diagnosis and talking to your doctor, that they will be able to then refer you on to other professionals for help, support and treatment if your doctor is unable to do this themselves.

It can be so hard to take quizzes and do online research about possible diagnoses you may have based on your symptoms as many different disorders/ mental health issues have similar symptoms hence why it’s so important to get a professional diagnosis. By taking quizzes online, like you mentioned, you can also begin to think you may have the symptoms when you may not truly have them. I am not in anyway suggesting that you are making any of your symptoms or experiences up as I truly believe that you are not, but it can happen.

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you, hope you are going OK and I wish you all the best in speaking to your doctor if you choose to do so!

Take care,

Lauren

Urges (Fugo x Narancia)

Perhaps Fugo had known it all along. The moment he had seen this boy rummage around in a garbage can, it had pulled all his heart-strings. And it only went down hill after. In the way how the boy exceptionally loved pizza and orange juice. How he couldn't sit still when hearing music. How he couldn't sit still to start with. His complete incapability to solve simple math problems. His wide grin and boisterous laughter. Narancia was the biggest dumbass he had ever met. He wanted to punch him so bad. Every fiber in Fugo's body was practically screaming when Narancia so much as moved.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of him.

And that was what absolutely terrified Fugo. He knew himself, he knew that with one wrong comment, he'd absolutely butcher the other teen. He had kept this feeling with him for months now, just like how he had wanted to take the urge of stabbing his parents to his grave. But this was different from the feeling he had at that time. He couldn't place it. But it felt.... Good. Trusted. Comfortable. And oh so alarming. And because he hadn't told anyone about these feelings, not even Buccarati, he now found himself alone with said alarming person.

“boooooored...” Narancia moaned loud and obnoxious. It was raining outside and they were sitting house while Bucciarati, Abbachio and Mista were out on mafia business. In all honesty, the rain wouldn't have stopped Fugo from leaving post-haste, but Buccarati had asked him to keep an eye on Narancia, who was shot in the leg before. By the sound of it, the other boy was doing just fine, though. Fugo had retreated on the couch with a book. He lay slummed against the armrest, his long legs sprawled over the seat, giving off a big 'don't talk to me' aura that he had recently learned from Abbachio. But Narancia, being an absolute star in reading the mood, hated being ignored more then anything. “Fugo, I'm bored! Let's play a game or something?” he hung over the back of the couch, close to Fugo's face. Fugo clicked his tongue and moved his head aside to stay clear of staring at Narancia's disarming face. He pointed. “There's cards, go play Sollitaire. It'll teach you independence.” Narancia grunted annoyed. “you're in a bad mood, no fun.” And it looked like that was the end of the discussion, as Narancia backed away. “c'mon, I'm sick of sitting around all day. Let's go get pizza? It's just some rain and my leg's fine.” the boy moved around the couch and did something that made Fugo freeze over completely: Narancia sat on top of Fugo's hips, leaning over, trying to get his attention. “what.....are you doing?” Fugo heard himself say without breath. The letters in the book were dancing in front of his eyes. His knuckles turned white. This was bad.... “Own fault for hogging the couch~ I'll only make myself heavier if you're gonna be a wet sock.” Fugo didn't reply right away. He barely moved. All he could think about was.... the time this had happened before. “Get off...” he spoke darkly. But Narancia didn't get the message. “Feeling like doing something yet?” in the spirit of 'making himself heavy', he hopped his hips up and crashed them down on Fugo's. It took every ounce of self-control for Fugo to keep his retort at only grabbing Narancia by the throat and giving a good squeeze. “Get. Off. Now!” he was panting heavy. Gritting his teeth, his eyes unfocused, his hand was sweaty and shaking. Even Narancia noticed this was worse then Fugo's usual fits of rage. He replied more docile: “o-okay, okay... geez...” and got off him slowly, to not make any sudden movements. Both were silent for a good few minutes. “Sorry....” Narancia muttered in the end. Fugo swallowed, not looking at him. Still shaken, he got up. “Gotta shower...” “huh? You showered this morning..” Fugo ignored the other and paced over to the bathroom.

This was exactly the problem. If it had been anyone but Narancia, Fugo was sure it wouldn't have triggered anything.... probably... Then again, in their small company only Narancia would be enough of a clueless dumbass to sit on top of another guy. Taking a shower, he made sure to clean himself vigorously, until he finally managed to stop panting. In the process, the mirror received a good 3 punches and was broken beyond use. Fugo looked down at his hands. 'Disgusting....' he thought to himself. His mind was in turmoil. Because even if he tried to push it away with all his rage: it had felt good. He had wanted Narancia to stay. No... even, get closer. And a most disturbing thought haunted Fugo: It's happening again.

Fugo had never talked about what had happened in school to anyone, except for Bucciarati. He doubted if any of them would really understand it. It had never been about him beating up the teacher. It was more complicated then that. 'Justified self-defense' is what his parents had bribed the court into concluding. And so there never really was any examination of the case. Fugo hadn't been able to find closure of his feelings. And so he made a conclusion many abused youths would pull: 'It was my own fault...'

He finished up in the bathroom after just a little under 2 hours. But when he returned, Narancia still had visible marks on his throat. He was sitting on the ground, against the couch and was hugging his knees. His eyes looked rather misty. Fugo felt a flush of guilt and gulped. “I.....sorry, Narancia. I went too far.” Narancia looked up with a jolt. Fugo would have preferred him to look angry, or even scared. But the look on Narancia's face was filled with worry. He got up. “What are you apologizing for?? I'm the one who's sorry! What the hell happened? Did I do something bad?? Did I mess up?” Fugo felt his chest tighten and looked off. “it's... nothing, never mind it. Just don't do it again.” “Don't be like that! I won't understand if you won't tell me!” Narancia paced over, that worried look didn't leave his face. It really troubled Fugo to see that face from up closer, only increasing his violent urges again. He turned away. “Forget about it! I'm not mad at you, so don't bother.” “FUGO!!” Narancia clung his hands in the back of Fugo's jacket. He sounded beyond worry: he was desperate. His voice was pitched and shallow. “Please.... don't shut me out? Not you..... Slap me or punch me or choke me, that's all fine. Just, don't brush me off? Please? You always confront me, you look straight at me and you face me head on... that means a lot to me. I like that about you. A lot. So don't-.... don't act like I didn't hurt you when I did! I'd rather have you tell me to my face and give me a good punch to get it over with, then to hide it!”

It was happening. It was too late. Fugo's mind would go pitch black. If he'd come to, would he find Narancia's bloody corpse beneath him? But he felt strangely light. As if a weight had been lifted. As if he had crossed a line he had been so afraid of crossing. But now that it was crossed, there's no more point in fearing it. Fugo's mind was clear. And he knew exactly what he was doing. He stretched his hand out to Narancia, holding his face. And what he had been sure would have resulted in him beating the boy's lights out was anything but that: Fugo crushed his lips against Narancia's. It felt like the most natural thing he had ever done. It was vivid and mindblowing. The boy's lips were slightly rough and dry. There was a faint taste of the strawberry he had nicked from Mista some time ago. And it felt like they could bruise from the sudden impact. It were the longest 2 seconds in Fugo's life before his mind caught up with his body and he backed away, realizing what he had done. Both stared at each other, perplexed. Fugo covered his mouth with the back of his hand in disbelieve. And the most disturbing thought crept on him: 'Oh god. I forced myself on him.'

Fugo looked absolutely mortified. Narancia felt another large pang of worry, but... processing what had happened and how it had led to this, his face flushed and he laughed a bit. “oh-... was that.. why you were uncomfortable, huh? Pft.. Okay, that makes sense~” “I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to--” “wow, wow! What are you apologizing about now? I'm not mad!” But Fugo stepped back, lost in his own mind. Thinking fast, Narancia grabbed hold of his arms and kissed him back. Faster and more clumsy, but sincere. “There! Now we're even, right?” It calmed Fugo down slightly and he looked back at the other, remorsefully and unsure of himself. “It's okay. Don't worry.” Narancia tried to reassure him, but he had completely lost what could possible be going through Fugo's head. Narancia took a deep breath. He wasn't exactly used to being the responsible one with the braincell. “Let's sit down? Okay?” he took Fugo's hand and took him along to the couch. Fugo followed reluctant, absentmindedly staring at their linked hands. As they sat, Fugo hesitated: “I.... I don't want to shut you out...just, I.... don't know where to start. It's embarrassing and pathetic.” Brushing off the immediate link of kissing him equals embarrassing and pathetic, Narancia shrugged. “Let's face it. You and I both know I'm not the smartest. You've gotta help me out here.” Fugo showed a rare slight smile. Then took a deep breath. “There..... used to be a person I looked up to.” he spoke, but his voice sounded uncomfortable. “He... well... did something similar...” Narancia blinked a few times, trying to figure what the other meant. “What happened to him?” “I killed him.” Fugo stated, surprisingly matter-of-factly. “Okay, rewind that for a bit. How? Why?” “You know how I get violent, right?” “Yeah, but never without a reason!” Fugo frowned for a moment. He wasn't quite sure if he was worth of that trust. Narancia hadn't worded it as being a 'good' reason. That would have just sounded fake. But...... Fugo refused to believe it. He knew himself. He knew what he did. And he knew what he's capable of... He sighed, trying to brush off how heavy the topic actually was to him. “He came on to me.” He didn't look Narancia in the eyes. “So, considering I just came on to you, I felt bad and apologized. The end.” Against popular believe, Narancia wasn't entirely stupid, though: “But you were already acting off before you did that.” Fugo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. There was no way out of it now, huh? Perhaps..... he should put Narancia to the test. Despite himself, he felt a slight shimmer of fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would understand. But he also braced himself for that hope to be disappointed. That was alright. Nothing would change. “a teacher at my school... he invited me over and-” his words stocked, trying to find the right way to describe it enough to make Narancia understand, but not to make it more dramatic and have Narancia throw pity at him. “-and approached me.” Narancia's face told him that wasn't going to cut it. “....sexually.” the other boy frowned, only producing a soft. “Oh....” Fugo quickly continued. “After that, he came to me again, suggesting we'd do the same thing. And then I beat him to death.” Fugo had rehearsed the reply people would give him in his mind over and over. 'it's not your fault, it was self-defense, you're the victim'. And maybe there had been a slight chance he would have believed that, if it hadn't been the exact arguments the court had been bribed in.... and.... “But..then why-...” Narancia's mind was racing, like there was something he couldn't quite lay his finger on. Fugo waited, patiently. But Narancia's conclusion startled him: “Holding yourself back...” it dawned on Narancia. “You were holding yourself back from killing him for all that time.” Fugo's shoulders sank. Yes.... that's what was eating away at him. If it really was something he didn't want, why did he let it happen? If he was going to kill him, why didn't he do so right away? He remembered the malicious whispers of his peers, saying he had been the one who was close to the teacher, he had been the one to seduce him, he had used the teacher to get good grades. And he believed them.... “That's right. I let it happen. I allowed him to do it, even though I could have stopped him.” Narancia stared intensely at Fugo. There was no judgment on his face. No pity. No disbelieve. Fugo had trouble reading that expression and so he continued: “And yet I mindlessly killed him. Just like I planned to mindlessly kill my parents, many times. You see? I don't actually need a reason. It might actually be that the people I care about have the highest risk.” Narancia grabbed a hold of Fugo's both cheeks, moving his own head back for momentum and headbutted the other as hard as he could. “YOU ABSOLUTE BRAIN FART! Isn't it obvious???” Narancia raged, trying his hardest not to wince at his own dumb action. “Auw, what was that about, you brat?!” Fugo took a hold of the back of Narancia's hair, just about ready to repeat the same dumb action. But Narancia yelled in his face before he could. “It's because you're A NICE PERSON!! no one in their right mind can just kill another person so easily! You held yourself back, cuz you're gentle! You're a better person than that piece of shit deserved you to be! What's wrong with that?!! You didn't want to hurt anyone and he used that against you!!” Tears started streaming down Narancia's face. Angry. Frustrated. But also a sense of adoration for the other. “Don't be a dickhead, saying you don't need a reason! You had it pent up more and more, over and over, until you couldn't take it anymore! Even when they took a running leap across the line. Damnit all, if that guy wouldn't be dead, I'd go out there and hunt him right now!” Fugo stared at him for a while, losing the girp on the other's hair. He sighed in slight defeat. Narancia's thinking was so simpleminded. But... he did feel better. It might still take some time for himself to believe it... but it was comforting to know that someone else believed in him.

“But! But that was that and this is this!” Narancia continued. “hm?” Fugo blinked, not quite following. “You said you were coming on to me. And I made it even.” Fugo looked off and nodded a bit. “You also said you were sorry about it. You dun want to?” “That's not it! I just-” Narancia grinned. “...so you want to~?” “.....” Fugo's stomach stirred from the coy look Narancia gave him. He was slowly starting to differentiate the urge of punching someone from this urge of kissing the other. “Yeah...” he admitted and leaned in slowly. “If you're still bored, I know something.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Three’s a Crowd - XI - Embry Call & Paul Lahote

POSTED: March 2nd, 2020

WORD COUNT: 1,368

REQUESTED: Anon

A/N: I have rewritten this part SO many times. It got to the point that I had to walk away because I was getting frustrated when it didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I feel so bad for how long it takes for me to get chapters out now, but I want to put out my best, so, unfortunately, that means it'll take a lot of time.

 I hope you guys enjoy this part, it's longer than the last few that have come out. If you haven't picked up on this already, it's going to be a bit of a slow burn fic. Not too slow though! I don't think I can make myself suffer through that, let alone all of y’all.

PS, if anyone wants to be added to the tags list, or I have missed you, PLEASE send in that request as an ask, so I can have it kept as a record, and so it won't be lost in my activity feed.

By the time Y/N gets to school, the sun is shining brighter than ever, not a cloud in sight. Many students are lingering around outside when Y/N gets off the bus, the parking lot alive with conversation. She weaves around the many groups heading straight for the front door. As her hands wrap around the sun-warmed handle, a voice calls out to her. It's quiet, one she hasn't heard in a long while, but recognized instantly.

Y/N turned around to watch Bella Swan as she quickly walked after her. Her old group of friends watch her curiously as she too weaves in and out of students. Their surprise is justified since they haven't heard her speak much since the vanishing of the Cullens. She seems to be doing better, however, since Y/N remembers seeing her sitting with them at lunch the day before.

"Hey, Bella," Y/N said, not knowing what else to say to the girl. They've never spoken in the short time she had returned to Forks, besides in class, when they had to hand something to each other. Or, more commonly, when Bella would trip and knock something off her desk, since in most of her classes, Bella was seated next to or near Y/N.

"Can I talk to you? For a minute?" Bella replies, slightly out of breath. From this close-up, Y/N can see the ever-growing bags under Bella's eyes, making her look sickly when paired with her pale skin. Y/N agrees, following after Bella as she leads her towards the tree line, away from their gossip-hungry classmates.

"You're friends with Jake, right? He talks about you a lot," Bella starts, looking expectantly at Y/N for a response. The shade cast by the trees worsens the look of Bella's bags, making her eyes look almost sunken into her head.

"Yeah, we grew up together," Y/N replies, though she didn't have to. From the way Bella sounded when she asked, she already knew the answer, "why?"

Bella shifts slightly, her awkward nature winning over her determination slightly. She takes a breath before pushing forward, "Then you must know what's going on with him."

Y/N lets out a sigh, cursing Bella for her never-ending curiosity, "I don't know-"

"I know you do," Bella cuts in, far more assertive than Y/N thought she was capable, "before we went to the movies Jake was complaining about you hanging out with Embry after he abandoned you guys for the 'cult.'"

"Bella-"

"And then!" Bella rushes to continue, once again cutting Y/N off so she couldn't stop her, "he disappears. Just like Embry and the others did. And I know you know where he is. And why he's not picking up my calls, and claiming to have mono."

Bella stares Y/N down, fire burning behind her tired eyes. Y/N knows where this is coming from, having been so freshly abandoned by Edward and his family, Bella is trying to hold onto whatever she had left. With a sigh, Y/N tries to cover the packs' tracks.

"Jake hasn't been talking to me since Embry started talking to me again." Not completely a lie, which Y/N hopes is enough to convince Bella, who is starting her down, "I haven't seen him at all. I'm sorry, Bella, but I can't help you."

Knowing this wasn't the end, Y/N quickly makes her escape, walking as fast as she can to the school while trying to not look like she's running away. Bella doesn't follow after her, just watches as Y/N turns the corner towards the main building of the school.

Once she's out of view, she pulls out her phone to send a quick warning to Paul and Embry. She gets responses almost immediately but doesn't have time to respond as she pushes her way through the front doors of the school. Many students have moved inside and are standing around their lockers. The large groups leave barely enough room to get to the stairway at the end of the hall.

Right next to the stairwell is her first class of the day. A supply teacher is standing at the front of the class, looking disinterested by the students already in the room. In front of her is a large stack of papers. The teacher calls out to Y/N as she walks by, her hand held out expectantly."No phones allowed during the test," she adds on, and Y/N can barely contain her eye roll as she hands it over, the phone lighting up with another text as she does so. The class is nearly half full as she walks down the middle aisle to her desk towards the back. Some have their notes open and are cramming in a bit of last-minute studying, while the others are goofing off with their friends.

The substitute doesn't seem to care much about what the students are doing and is instead sorting through the notes that were left for her. The first bell rings, and slowly, students start to file into the classroom.

The substitute puts the notes left for her aside to hand out tests and take phones as the last of the class arrives. She exchanges with the last student just as the second bell rings, signalling the start of first period. Everyone quiets as the teacher explains what's needed on the test, writing down equations on the board for them to refer back to. With that, she tells them to begin, settling back in her chair.

Y/N stares down at the three-page test, cute little beakers and test tubes around the title. With a long-suffering sigh, Y/N grabs her pencil and starts on the first question.

Surprisingly, Y/N was able to avoid Bella for the rest of the day. The boys were messaging her between classes after she was stopped that morning by Bella. At first, it was about what Bella wanted, and then it was little things, like how Y/N's day was going and vice versa. Or random questions that Y/N and Paul would ask each other to get to know each other better.

Her phone has been going off for the last couple of minutes. She was finishing up the last of her work in her free time before school ends. The phone vibrates against her leg again, and with a sigh, Y/N puts aside her work to check her phone. From what she sees from the most recent message, she didn't have to scroll up to see what story Embry was telling.

[Embry]: and then she tried to tackle Jake off of Quil, knocking them both over and down the hill

[Embry]: Jake broke his arm. Y/N broke her ankle

[Y/N]: I don't know why you love that story so much, my mom kept me locked in the house for days after

She sends the message off quickly so that she can cram in as much work as possible before the final bell rings. Her phone goes off again, but she ignores it as she punches in her equation into her calculator. She jots down the answer with a relieved sigh, scanning the sheet to make sure she got every question before putting everything away. The library is relatively empty when Y/N takes a look around, spotting Angela sitting off int the corner with Jessica, huddled close and whispering to each other.

The final bell rings just as Bella wonders into the library, walking over to her friends. Thankfully, she doesn't notice Y/N sitting by her self, letting her slip away unnoticed. Y/N makes a pit stop to her locker, trading her math homework for her English assignment. Following the flow of students out the doors towards the busses, Y/N loads onto the bus to make her way home.

As the bus leaves the school parking lot, Y/N watches Bella come out of the front doors of the school alone. She's digging through her orange backpack but can't seem to find what she's looking for. As the bus turns onto the main road, Y/N turns her attention to the trees lining the side of the road. There, in trees, is a face covered in shadow, and all Y/N can make out are the deep, red eyes staring right back at her.

a strikethrough means it’s not working

Twilight Tag: @wh1sp3r1ng-impala – @rabeccablake

Three’s Tag: @00girly-tomboy00  – @werewitchling  – @falling-stars-never-cry​ – @basicallyacullen​ – @truthdaze​ -- @vxidnik

fluff 21 w ennoshita? :)

 “you’re not very intimidating.”

a/n: seem as though these latest requests will be based on holidays! so the last one was new year’s eve/day, and this one is halloween. i’ve also got one more coming up after this one!

“What are you dressing up as for Halloween, (Y/N)?” Ennoshita sits in the chair beside you, peering over your shoulder for some kind of hint. You’ve said it yourself several times: only the universe could know that the person you’d be paired to sit with hated math class above all his other courses. Lucky for him, it’s a subject you don’t mind, and honestly could work on longer than other classes.

"I haven't really thought about Halloween costumes yet. Too busy studying," you mention as a jab. When you see the reaction you're looking for, you grin. "I'm kidding. I was thinking of dressing up as a volleyball player. Think you could ask Sugawara senpai if I could borrow a jersey from him?"

"Why would you ask me that, when I play volleyball too? You can just borrow mine," he suggests with a click of his tongue. This string that ties you two together is never spoken of, but usually acted upon instead. Ennoshita never usually takes charge in this sense, but since you love to push his buttons, he has to make some adjustments in his assertion.

"Alright," you peer at him with the fading hint of a teasing smile. "What are you dressing up as then?"

"It's going to be scary. I promise you that."

You erupt into a small fit of giggles, soft enough so that the teacher in the front of the class can't hear you. "You couldn't be scary even if you tried." You poke his arm for extra emphasis.

Frowning, he grumbles, "Just you wait. I'll make myself scary."

The following week comes almost without warning, dragging you along even though you don’t feel ready. Ennoshita followed his word, handing you a black and orange jersey the day before the festivities.

“You look better in the number six,” he says as you hold it up to your shoulders. “Or at least I think so. I mean, it’s just a better number?” He gives up on trying to justify his words. 

You pull your chin towards your chest to look down at the shirt. “I think I will too.” No need to let him know that you associate wearing someone’s jersey with being in a relationship with them, and no need to let him know that you were thinking about wearing his jersey and cheering for him as he plays in a match.

The frigid October air swishes against you as you trek the hill leading up to your high school. It's only autumn mornings that are like this; by the time you venture into the town with friends after school, the sun will be shining happily in the sky. You walk into the school building, donning your favorite player’s number on your chest, though it's covered by your cardigan at the moment. The hallways are streamed with paper strings and webs, and students loiter, asking one another what they dressed up as. There are several pointed hats poking out through the top of the sea of humans, as well as many cat-earred headbands.

One particular costume takes to the forefront of your view as you approach the second-year hallway. You’d be able to recognize him even in a crowd of thousands, but that doesn’t prevent you from taking a double take.

Ennoshita bares his teeth to greet you, his artificial fangs glinting from the lights above.

“You’re not very intimidating,” you roll your eyes at him and he lowers his arms from his overbearing stance. He pouts, but nonetheless, slings an arm around your shoulder, which is a bold move on his part.

“I wouldn’t have expected a vampire,” you muse as you look him up and down. He’s got it all down to a T: ruffled white shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks (that are probably the one and same pair he wears for school anyway), all hidden behind a lengthy cape that flows behind him. “And the shoes are shiny too. You won’t be able to find a reflection, even if you tried though.”

“It’s all about the little details. Speaking of,” he looks at you. “Aren’t you going to take off your cardigan?”

“What, so you can see what your jersey looks like on me?” Even as you tease him, red covers your cheeks just as equally. You shrug off the cardigan and out of his grip, then you sling the cardigan onto the crook of your elbow. “What do you think?” Turning on your foot, you twirl in a circle, creating a bubble fit for two.

Ennoshita gazes at the end of the hall, covering his nose and mouth with one of his hands. He taps his fingers on the surface of his skin, pretending to be engrossed with something some random student is doing. “I was just looking at someone else’s costume, they’re really creative.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “But, uh, what about my costume?”

“You look nice.”

“Just nice? After you agonizing to have me wear your uniform and not Sugawara’s?”

“Okay, fine, you look really good.” Afterward, he mutters, “Why didn’t I give you one of my jerseys earlier?”

Just to give him the benefit of the doubt, you smile and move on with the conversation. “Let’s take a picture, yeah? Before everything gets all messy and then we won’t be able to find each other later.”

After flagging down a person to take your picture, you stand a distance away from the phone camera, guiding Ennoshita to lock you in a hug. “Here, put your arms around me and then cross them so that your hands land on the opposite shoulder.”

“Uh, are you sure?”

You blurt out the word “certain!” before you can shut your mouth.

The friend behind the phone asks if you’re ready and you nod. “Okay, say cheese!”

The two of you respond, “Cheese!” After a few shots, Ennoshita even pretends to go to bite your neck. Nothing can stop the fluttering in your chest as you can literally feel his presence in a personal spot and you’re trying not to blush, but you’re certain that you’ll see your face turn redder and redder when you look through the photos after.

“Thank you!” You express your gratitude to your friend after you take back your phone. “These are really cute, Ennoshita. Look,” you swipe through the shots taken. “Maybe you aren’t a scary vampire, but you’re definitely a cute one.”

general haikyuu tag list: @dorkyama @kingkags @clowninfortodoroki @ykchaos @kingkagss @alienvarmint @gogohaikyuu @keiyoomi @shou-kunn @n1sh1n0ya @yams046 @scorpiosanssexy

please let me know if you’d like to be removed from the tag list via ask!

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What it’s real like being a Dyslexic

Today's  post shall be about Dyslexia from  "Dyslexia the Gift". Well I didn't know that I was blessed with such an omnipotent power. Thank you Dyslexia the Gift for Awakening my abilities. Anyways this post is just my rebuttal to this list as an Anthropomorphic Tangerine with severe dyslexia. Here we go: General:

1. Appears bright, highly intelligent, and articulate but unable to read, write, or spell at grade level.

Ahhhhh.......... so I am all those big words that I can't spell or pronounce.

BTW who ever came up with the word Dyslexia is a troll cause you knew damn well I can't spell that.

2. Labelled lazy, dumb, careless, immature, “not trying hard enough,” or “behavior problem.”

Hey I am not lazy just because Suzie spends her the night figuring out Algebra questions and I on the other hand will look at her formula, "Copy and Paste" for myself and even then at the end of the day I stilled will have learned it. Einstein did say there are different types of genius.

3.Isn’t “behind enough” or “bad enough” to be helped in the school setting.

Let's just pretend it didn't take me 3 times to read this inorder to understand it. Anywhose.

The school suggested to my parents to take me to get tested. Although I think it was because they wanted justify their discrimination against me.

 4.   High in IQ, yet may not test well academically; tests well orally, but not written.

Lies. I failed in both.

5.Feels dumb; has poor self-esteem; hides or covers up weaknesses with ingenious compensatory strategies; easily frustrated and emotional about school reading or testing.

*clear throat* In best Beyonce voice "I'm survivor................"

6.Talented in art, drama, music, sports, mechanics, story-telling, sales, business, designing, building, or engineering.

 Ohh.......come on I suppose to be talented in these fields why didn't Dyslexia tell me this.

7.Seems to “Zone out” or daydream often; gets lost easily or loses track of time.

They were in the Zone like in Soul

woahh..... that was a bar.

8.Difficulty sustaining attention; seems “hyper” or “daydreamer.”

 As I type this I peer out through the window wondering if clouds really are made of precipitation or that is what the Illuminati wants you to think.

 9. Learns best through hands-on experience, demonstrations, experimentation, observation, and visual aids.

Crash Course history is my religion.

Vision, Reading, and Spelling:

10.Complains of dizziness, headaches or stomach aches while reading.

 Starts going in the 4th dimension if I pick up a book.  

11.Confused by letters, numbers, words, sequences, or verbal explanations.

Algebra is not for dyslexics. You mix letters and numbers together. Mathematicians were not thinking of dyslexics when Algebra was created.

 12. Reading or writing shows repetitions, additions, transpositions, omissions, substitutions, and reversals in letters, numbers and/or words.

Yes Yes . Truly feal for all of of my teacher who read my essays.

13.Complains of feeling or seeing non-existent movement while reading, writing, or copying.

I am Percy Jackson so I am a god.

 14.Seems to have difficulty with vision, yet eye exams don’t reveal a problem.

 I actually had glasses.

15.Extremely keen sighted and observant, or lacks depth perception and peripheral vision.

Yet another sentence I can't understand. Hold up let me go and look up “depth perception” so I can understand this sentence, real quick.........................This is true.  

 16.Reads and rereads with little comprehension.

Reading number fifteen (15) proves this.

 17.Spells phonetically and inconsistently.

 Hooked on Phonics told me otherwise.

Hearing and Speech:

18.Has extended hearing; hears things not said or apparent to others; easily distracted by sounds.

Being an only child while being home alone this ability doesn't have any benefits.

 19.Difficulty putting thoughts into words; speaks in halting phrases; leaves sentences incomplete; stutters under stress; mispronounces long words, or transposes phrases, words, and syllables when speaking.

 I feel called out.

Writing and Motor Skills:

20.Trouble with writing or copying; pencil grip is unusual; handwriting varies or is illegible.

 I may have changed my writing style multiple times. Some legible, some not.

 21.Clumsy, uncoordinated, poor at ball or team sports; difficulties with fine and/or gross motor skills and tasks; prone to motion-sickness.

But if I am supposed to be talented at sports in the afro-mention point why can't I catch a ball.

Dyslexia being confused since 1877.

 22.Can be ambidextrous, and often confuses left/right, over/under.

Yip...A 20 something that doesn't know their left from their right.

 Math and Time Management:

23.Has difficulty telling time, managing time, learning sequenced information or tasks, or being on time.

Well if I can't tell time I can't manage my time thus I don't have enough time to do tasks so that is why I am never on time.

 24.Computing math shows dependence on finger counting and other tricks; knows answers, but can’t do it on paper.

 Only if Math exam were oral I would have accolades in Math.

 25.Can count, but has difficulty counting objects and dealing with money.

 Y'all I have nightmares about being a cashier.  

 26.Can do arithmetic, but fails word problems; cannot grasp algebra or higher math.

As I said before Algebra not, for dyslexics.

Memory and Cognition:

27:Excellent long-term memory for experiences, locations, and faces.

I wish could forget about that time I fell down in front the entire school. And yes this is not an exaggeration. The ENTIRE school saw this.  

28.Poor memory for sequences, facts and information that has not been experienced.

Subjects dyslexics shouldn't do:

Science: too many big words you can't spell.

History or Literature: reading is detrimental to your health.

Math:  A-L-G-E-B-R-A

 29.Thinks primarily with images and feeling, not sounds or words (little internal dialogue).

Sad truth I wear my heart on my sleeves. It's fricking annoying cause I want to be mad in peace without anyone knowing Goddamn it .

 Behavior, Health, Development, and Personality: 

30.Extremely disorderly or compulsively orderly.

I am Death the Kid.

(If you don't get that reference you are uncultured)

 31.Can be class clown, trouble-maker, or too quiet.

Like I was disliked in school for being too quiet. You would think that it was students oh no no no Patricia it was teachers.

Sorry Mrs. Emily for not giving you grey hairs, so you have the opportunity to go home to your loving husband to complain about how much you hate your job and kids. While you thinking about your affair with the young nextdoor neighbour, who you would end up marrying only to then leave them for a hot 20 yea.............................Ummmm that got a bit personal there lets continue shall we  

32.Had unusually early or late developmental stages (talking, crawling, walking, tying shoes).

 It took a while to learn how to tie my laces.

 33.Prone to ear infections; sensitive to foods, additives, and chemical products.

So wait not only did Dyslexia inhibit my ability to read, comprehend and to tell my right from my left to function normally in society but it caused my ear infections too. That is it I'm done

Moving to Siberia.

 34.Can be an extra deep or light sleeper; bedwetting beyond appropriate age.

 I was a very well trained tangerine.

 35.Unusually high or low tolerance for pain.

Everytime I stub my pinky toes it feels like an aeroplane wheel rolled over it.

36.Strong sense of justice; emotionally sensitive; strives for perfection.

 Facts!

37.Mistakes and symptoms increase dramatically with confusion, time pressure, emotional stress, or poor     health.

2 second Rant

Examiners don't think of dyslexic people, even with extra time. The sheer amount of times it takes just to understand the question then to answer with the best possible Grammar is straight cruelty.

You automatically want me to fail and not finish don't you.

You Demon.

  Mini sidestory:

While writing this I asked my significant other to spell "Exaggerate", dude looked at me and told me to sound it out. Past me knew he was going to say this and I did sound it out  before he asked me to sound it out. I told him that I did and that I don't know what letter comes after "Ex", he was like babe sound it out..................................

Tangerine internal thoughts: (Exsqueeze me) Every time try that a ""H" is coming up in my head. I thought this through ya know.

In conclusion I sound it out to my phone.

 To anyone who don't understand Dyslexia fully I do suggest researching.  

My commentary is completely subjective but if you relate that is good :)

 That's all my Fruits until next time

- TheeTangerine

Proof read by TheeApple<3

https://www.dyslexia.com/about-dyslexia/signs-of-dyslexia/test-for-dyslexia-37-signs/

Teeth: Vampire!Luke // Chapter 8

Summary: Luke knows the rules and his boundaries, he has respected them for centuries. He knows he should stay as far away as possible from every human on his path. But that was before she came along.

Author’s Note: idek, i just hope exams end soon even though i know it’ll be another month

series masterlist | regular masterlist

It had been silent since she last spoke. Beatrix hadn’t opened her mouth in a long while and seemed determined to keep her eyes - seemingly empty - locked onto the patch of grass right in front of her. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her brain. 

“So the myths and legends are true” her voice almost felt too loud in the silence that surrounded them and Luke nearly flinched at the sound. He looked at her, sitting with her arms around her body almost as if she wanted to keep herself from falling apart. The only thing telling him how much time had actually passed was the sky tinted with the beautiful colours of the sunset fading away.

“I’ve never encountered many witches if that can help you” he shrugged, his voice surprisingly not betraying the nerves that would’ve made him tremble if he were to be human. “Especially during the witch hunts” 

A distant, small smile made its way on her face, giving Luke some hope. “I should be heading home, I think my mom’s about three seconds away from calling the sheriff” she then said, standing up abruptly as if noticing just then how late it had gotten. The blond stood up as well, disappointment coursing through his veins.

“I’ll walk you” he wasn’t really offering, he would’ve done it anyway, no matter if she protested. Bea looked up at him, and for the first time in centuries Luke couldn’t make out what was hiding behind her hazel eyes. He stood there, dumbfounded, as she flashed him a grateful grin and started walking. Catching up in a millisecond, he walked by her side in silence - not really knowing what to say to her given that he knew things should be different by now,  knowing that she should remember. The town was pretty quiet, people and cars were still running around trying to get home but the silence between the both of them felt heavy with the weight of words left unspoken. 

“It’s alright to break” he found himself saying as they walked up the street her house was at the end of. She was still looking ahead of her, gaze shifting from the trees to the ground beneath her feet. Luke knew from the way her heart was beating that she was close to losing it, yet she still had so much to discover, and he couldn’t think of a better word of advice. Bea simply nodded, finally looking at him again just as they reached her house.

“Thank you, Luke” her voice was still quiet, just above a whisper. 

“I need you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll be here” Luke smiled back, yet again attempting to comfort her as best as he could. She was quick to look away from the intense blue of his eyes. In an inexplicable surge she let her hand shoot towards his, holding it in hers and intertwining their fingers. 

“Please don’t let me fall” she whispered, looking at their hands.A bright smile opened up on the vampire’s face. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Beatrix” The girl took in a sharp breath of surprise, her whole body stiffened, and finally she let their eyes meet again.  “How do you know my full name?”

“I think that that’s for me to know and for you to find out” he smirked earning a soft giggle back: a small victory in his heart. Bea let his hand go and started taking small steps back, looking at him until she disappeared behind the door. 

“Do you know how worried I’ve been, young lady?” Luke knew he shouldn’t have stayed behind to listen to her mother’s scolding, but it was stronger than him. “You could’ve told me you were going out to see your boyfriend, or you could’ve snuck out like every other teenager does, and let me live in blissful ignorance till you came back!” he smirked. Boyfriend. He could perfectly picture Bea’s shocked face and blushed cheeks. “He’s not my boyfrie- Where you spying on me?!” a low chuckle escaped him as he started to walk away, their bickering keeping him company until he was out of ear shot. 

-

Storming up to my room I tried to put behind me the yelling match that had just taken place in the living room, more important and pressing matters instantly coming back to mind. Luke was a vampire. Rubbing my face with a little too much force, I started pacing around my room whilst trying to get a grip on what really was reality. A vampire. Snickering in disbelief, I sat down on the edge of my bed, letting the thought marinate in my head until it stopped feeling like something out of “Twilight” and found its place into my reality. Somehow it wasn’t too difficult. I fell back onto the soft sheets of my bed, my hands were quick to come up to my head, fingers getting lost in my hair and pulling lightly at the strands. If I thought too much about the fact that I knew – had known? – a vampire an incredulous laugh would still spill right out of my lips. It felt like going crazy, trying to justify the existence of a myth into my life. The world even. What baffled me the most, aside from the fact that apparently supernatural beings existed, was a more personal matter. Something that probably only had to do with me, with us: how was it possible that through every lifetime of mine Luke would come and look for me, with the knowledge of it ending as badly as it did? Now that he’d found me, would I be doomed like every other time? How was it possible that every time he found me he’d risk it all just for love? That last word echoed in my mind, bouncing left and right. There was something else I needed to know, to find out. 

The next day at school I patiently waited for my friends to gather in our spot in front of the building, usually we’d converse until the bell rang and then reluctantly make our way to class, however today I was faced with a rather different sight.

“Hello” Luke appeared out of nowhere, his voice taking me by surprise and making me drop my notes.

“You’ve gotta stop doing that!” I slapped him on the arm lightly, probably causing zero real harm and bowed down to pick up my notebook. 

“Sorry” he let out an airy laugh, watching as I faced him again. He smirked as my eyes narrowed, clutching my notebook closer to me.

“You’re not” I sad then, his smirk only widening at my words.

“You’re right” the blond shrugged simply, then seemed to be distracted for a second, listening to something else. 

“Well, I better get going, your friends are making their way over” his lips formed a little smile and he seemed to debate, very quickly, his next move. “Have a good day” was the last thing Luke said before walking towards the school entrance, leaving me dumbfounded. 

He was right, though, when he mentioned my three friends coming. Soon enough they were in front of me, Michael and Calum seemingly wrapped up in a discussion of their own and Ashley just looking at them in mild desperation. 

As soon as her eyes landed on me however, a knowing grin made its way onto her lips.

“So” she started, dragging the o for a little. “What was Hemmings doing here?” she wiggled her eyebrows, making me inwardly roll my eyes.

“Saying hi and wishing me a good day” I simply shrugged, not seeing the point in lying.

“Sure, sure” she nodded, not convinced, when finally the two boys decided to include us in their discussion over which answer was the right one for our Maths homework, the only class the four of us had together. From then on, waiting for the bell to ring but also on our way to class, we started throwing around our answers, debating and going over every passage of the problem. 

Turns out, none of us had got it right and Calum even received a disappointed look from our teacher the second he’d tried to explain our misplaced calculations.

“I won’t miss this pathetic excuse of a subject one bit” he sighed, still enraged, as soon as the four of us stepped out of the classroom, earning giggles and nods of agreement.

“She could’ve at least been nice about it! Her job is literally to teach us, not yell how much of a disappointment we are” Ashley added, still fuming about her own interaction with the teacher over homework. 

“Well, it is eight in the morning for her, too” shrugged Michael, earning pointed looks from the rest of us. Dragging Calum away before he could start yelling again, this time his frustration directed towards the green-eyed boy, I laughed lightly watching a little colour flow back into the blond’s cheeks – clearly afraid of his friend’s temper.

“See you later!” I waved towards them walking towards the Physics classroom, the blue haired boy following and muttering under his breath. 

As we walked in and I took my seat behind Calum’s, I noticed that Luke wasn’t here yet. Since when do you notice? – asked the other part of my brain, quickly shushed as the blond in question walked into the door and shot me a wink as he walked by me. Calum was quick to turn around and face me with slightly widened eyes.

“When did Hemmings start to wink at you?” he asked in a whisper, leaning in close, still I knew the vampire would be listening. Or could he? Had I watched too many shows?

“He doesn’t” I opted for, but my friend only raised a brow at that. 

“Fine, I don’t know” I groaned quietly in mild irritation. 

“Now turn around!” I folded my arms over my chest as Calum put his hands up in surrender, giggling. Snickering I turned around myself, searching for Luke’s eyes – which of course were on us. “I heard that” he mouthed at me gaining an eye roll, but also making me blush lightly. Before I could think too much about the latest interaction, the teacher finally walked into the classroom demanding everyone’s attention.

The rest of the day went by easily, except every time I had to suffer through the sneaky remarks of my friends about the blond vampire. Luke was definitely up to something, always making sure to pass by me in the hallways, saying “hi” every time and even winking, at times. It felt like the heat that rushed to my cheeks whenever he did these sort of thins would never go away. 

“You know” started Michael as we were making our way to Calum’s car after the insufferable day spent at school. “I think you should really go over and talk to him” he nodded towards the other end of the small school’s parking lot, making all of our heads turn to see Luke standing there, busy with his phone. 

“Yeah, he’s been parading around you all day today” agreed Ashley, her knowing grin ever present. 

“He winked at her in Physics” added Calum.

“He winked at her all day” deadpanned Michael, making everyone giggle except me. I gave him a pointed look, but he just shrugged with a smile.

“Alright, I’ll go, but just to make you lot shut up” raising my hands in surrender I started walking backwards towards the subject of our discussion, earning a quiet cheer from the trio. 

“Ask him how’s his eye!” exclaimed my green-eyed friend, making everyone laugh and eliciting a groan for me. I seriously doubt his eye is anything less than perfectly fine. 

As I turned to face Luke still cringing at the quiet hollers coming from my friends, which followed my through the emptying parking lot, I noticed his small amused smile.

“Just to make them shut up?” he asked once I was closed enough, I rolled my eyes- again.

“Yes” I nodded. “What was all of that today?”

“All of what?” he feigned ignorance, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as he started walking towards the exit. I followed mirroring his action, although I doubted he hid his hands because he was shivering from the cold. 

“You know what” I lightly elbowed him, a little taken aback by the sudden urge to be this familiar with him.

“Well, I was just saying hi to my friend” he turned his head to look down at me due to the height difference between us. “And I rather like seeing you blush” he added, a Cheshire cat-like grin stamped on his lips. Now that he’d said it, there was no way I was going to be able to maintain a straight face or stop the heat from rushing to my cheeks. “Beautiful” he murmured still looking at me. 

Completely overwhelmed by his words, I steered the conversation into an entirely different direction. “So what happens now?” I asked, he raised a brow as if encouraging me to explain myself better. “What happens now that you’ve found me again?” I clarified, the question had rung in my head all night barely allowing me to get any shut-eye time. 

Luke looked tense, clearly familiar just as much as me with what could happen, and shrugged. “I’ll go to any length to keep you safe” he’d stopped walking, looking at me with such intensity I had no trouble believing the words he said. I nodded, resuming our walk.

“Where are we going?” the question almost came out of my mouth on its own, having danced around my mind for a little while.

“Do you trust me?” he asked back, offering me his hand to hold. It took less than a second for my brain to think of the answer.

“Yes” and I grasped his hand in mine.

tag list: @assumeimapenguin @rose-coloredmind @keithseabrook27

I understand you're a lapsed Catholic, but it seems to me you've always had a sophisticated relationship with your faith. If you don't mind, I wanted to ask you (as it's something I've been struggling with myself), how are you able to practise/embrace your religion without repressing certain interests/hobbies/kinks, etc., which you suspect may clash with it?

This is kind of a strange question to answer, now that I’ve walked away from my faith. But you’re not wrong that even before then I had a…flexible concept of Catholicism, and saw the catechism more as an invitation to argue than infallible law. (That is definitely not how the Church sees it, but I figured any God who was cool with Abraham would be open to negotiation.)  However, in turning this question over in my mind over the last week or so, I ended up thinking a lot about received wisdom—what happens when we find ourselves questioning/feeling/thinking/wanting a Thing contrary to what Authority tells us we should think, feel or want. 

So, I boiled down my thought process to a couple steps.

(1) Where is my Thing coming from?

The human psyche is a morass, and sometimes it dredges up impulses that don’t come from a place we like, a place where we keep our best selves. On the other hand, wanting to be loved, to be happy, to be entertained and fed and warm and not unsafe and maybe occasionally have some tacos—these are all impulses too. I’m of the belief that our brains churn out desires in response to nothing more complicated than “hey! this generates the neurotransmitters I like!” So it’s our responsibility as freely-thinking people to interrogate where that’s coming from, and whether that’s a good place or the place we want to be making decisions and choices from.

(2) Where is the prohibition against said Thing coming from?

Just like our internal impulses, the messaging from Authority deserves to be interrogated. When a pastor, a Op Ed writer, a teacher, political figure, that kid from college, or even just your Aunt Mary on Facebook says anything, your first thought should always be: “why are they saying this?”

I don’t mean in a cynical way—I don’t think it’s particularly useful to move through the world assuming everyone is lying or trying to manipulate you. But people are good at justifying their actions and their thoughts, and judging other people solely through their understanding of the world. So when presented with a “you shall not”, it’s always useful to step back and ask yourself where that’s coming from and what logic is driving it.

(3) Do I think that the underlying logic of the prohibition is sound?

Just because you’re given a Reason not to do/think/be/want a Thing doesn’t mean you have to accept it as a Good Reason. People can explain themselves until they’re blue in the face, the Catholic Church can write encyclicals until the Second Coming, and conservative economists can fellate the corpse of Milton Friedman until a different sort of rigor mortis sets in! Sometimes you’re never going to agree with what they say because it just doesn’t make sense.

(4) If it does seem sound, do I think the underlying logic of the prohibition outweighs the Thing?

Sometimes, people have Good Reasons and you can still disagree with them, decide that honoring your Thing is more important. Just because someone articulates a viewpoint you sympathize with, something you can see the emotion or logic in, doesn’t mean you have to buy into it yourself. (I’ve listened to a lot of economists talk, and their math all very rational. It doesn’t outweigh the fact that I’m never going to think the debt ceiling is more important than social services.)

…..this makes it all sound very rigorous and academic, which is sort of misleading. These questions are really just supposed to slow you down, like speed bumps on the road to figuring out what you believe and why you believe it in the face of contradictory opinions. Figuring out not just where I stand, but why I stand there, and why I don’t stand somewhere else, has only helped me—to better understand myself, if no one else.