it's so hot are these tears or sweat

seto’s personal trashy update

my last day of vacation is tomorrow, these 3 weeks i’ve been animating for the islands MAP, watched hours and hours of gameplays, read the entire snk manga, and watched anime

i’m a productive child

huntress-of-velaris  asked:

For the prompts: angsty and dramatic Rowaelin rescue scene! 😁

OK SO this isn’t quiiiite that because tbh I can’t envision it all in my head yet but your prompt did spark SOMETHING which is the aftermath and angst and tears so, here we go: 

Rowan woke in a sweat, skin hot and cold at the same time. It took too long to calm his heart down, his chest rising and falling with alarming frequency as adrenaline raced through his veins. The first thing he did, always, when the nightmares roused him like this was reach for the sleeping body beside him.

It didn’t always feel real, having her back. The loss of her all those months had taken its toll on both of them — all of them — and he still wasn’t accustomed to the promise of peace that they all fought so hard for. It was easier in daylight, easier to focus on the various tasks at hands or otherwise fuss over his wife. Once night fell, however, Rowan struggled to keep his brain at bay. Images were constantly flashing through his mind: a bloody shirt on a beach and the imagined pictures his mind conjured against his will at what she endured to leave so much red in her wake; an empty bed, empty life; the shell of a girl that he came upon when he found her, finally found her.

Aelin was healing. He had to remind himself of that fact.

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anonymous asked:

When it's cold so you want to lay on the hot side of the pillow but you can't cuz there is no hot side cuz it's so cold

ill trade pillows with u bc here its as hot as satans anus hole and even sleeping nude AF i still wake up soaked in sweat and tears. 

anonymous asked:

I love your writing! And was wondering if you could write reader and Rick getting high together with some fluff?

You don’t really know what to expect when you receive the texts from Rick that practically demand you go over to the Smith’s house immediately after work. You’re exhausted and as much as you enjoy spending time with Rick, the idea of being swept into some adventure with him right now sounds…

Well, it sounds obnoxious.

But, you were never too good at denying Rick what he wants, and you were pretty sure that was a main motive in why he kept you around. He’d mentioned the Smith family were out for a few hours, that he had something to show you (innuendo?), and that time was of the essence.

You don’t even attempt to go home first to change, you simply pull out onto the roads and head to the familiar backstreets that guide you to the Smith’s home.

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Flexibility, Love, and Trust

A/N: A quick little Moxiety fic that is so much fluff you will have cavities (sorry)

After seeing this video of Thomas singing Here Comes A Thought from Steven Universe I had to write something.

Don’t tell me Patton would so sing that to Virgil when he’s anxious like just COME ON!!! 

Summary: Virgil having a bad nightmare and goes to Patton to calm him down. And what happens when they recently had a Steven Universe marathon night? You guessed it, a sing-a-long.

WC: 1,788

ships: Platonic Moxiety love <3

(forgot the tag list whoops) Tag List: @iris-sanders-athena @frostedlover

warnings: anxiety attacks, so much fluff

Beads of sweat were twinkling down Virgil’s forehead. Hot tears was climbing its way down his cheeks as he let out whimpers into the air. He was having another nightmare.

Though this one was a particularly bad one.

All of the sides were there, even Thomas, holding him down yelling at him and telling him how much they truly hated him. How they were just lying this entire time. Course he’s had nightmares like this before but this one was worse. It won’t end for some reason. It just kept going and going and going.

Until finally Roman roughly pushed him into the wall causing pain to erupt along his back and more whimpers and silent cries to escape him and only when Roman lifted up his sword about to cut him open, did he finally open his eyes.

Well more like a scream as he shot up his eyes wide like saucers. His heart was beating roughly against his chest like it wanted to erupt out of his ribcage.

His breathing was erratic as he shakily tossed the blankets off his sticky body. Even though he was gasping for air he couldn’t seem to breathe. Just have to calm down. He’s fine. They still love him. As his arms wrapped themselves around his shaking body he tried his breathing exercises which calmed him down somewhat.

But now he was aware of how lonely he was.

Of how small his bedroom really was.

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hi!! so for my first official post on this blog I thought I’d compile a list of my favorite playlists/albums for studying or doing homework. all of these are instrumental, but if you’d like I could make another post with non-instrumental study music. idk I can’t really concentrate with other words playing so I normally stick with instrumentals. 

(all of the playlists are on 8tracks)

and if you have some money on itunes these are some of my favorite albums that i use all the time for studying


Pairing: Fleur Delacour x Hermione Granger aka fleurmione

Written for: The Rairpairsnet Monthly Challenge

Words: ~1400

I mean??? Fleurmione??? I was gonna write Daphne x Hermione but it just wasn’t happening so Fleurmione it is whoops

She does the precise opposite of what everyone expects her to do, and it contradicts her entire history of logical decisions and responsible actions, of follow-through, in one fell swoop.

The war is hardly over and she is packing and this time it is just one rucksack. A plain bag that sits comfortably around her shoulders and rests snuggly against her lower back. It has the bare necessities; she refuses to take even one single book after a year on the run with an entire library that, made weightless by magic or not, had slowly but surely crushed her under their weight, compressed the disks of her spine until the atoms just simply could not be forced any closer together. Her chest felt bound, her ribs a container too small for her organs, for her heart and it was breathtaking and painstaking and it was crippling, crippling, crippling.

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backtraf  asked:

"I keep waking up unable to breathe" Deryn and Cyrus?

In which Cyrus is haunted by the events of Haven, and Darren just happens to be the only one nearby. (I kinda just assumed that was for Darren and Cyrus? If not, I apologise, because that’s what I went with!) 

Approx 1700 words, most under the cut <3

Fire. Screams. Blood on the ground. Ash. A sky blacker than the burned husks of the buildings. Reaching. Desperate. Pulse pounding. Feet moving without reason, running in a direction. Any direction. A demon shrieks hatred beyond the wall, setting teeth to sting, clenched so tight they crack and turn to dust. Fingers fumble – a blade drawn from its sheath. Metal catches the flickering light, red and hot and spreading with the wind. Snow mingles with soot on the tongue, stinging the eyes, shedding tears. Ruinous. Ruin. Pain. Fear

Fear of death, or fear of being the only one to wake after the slaughter?

Cyrus shot upright, breaths coming in gulps that pushed frantically against the inside of his unwilling chest, begging for space. He clawed at the fabric of his shirt, soaked through, too tight, too—

“… Cyrus? Are you all right?” The voice was soft; so quiet he barely heard it over the sound of his own blood beating in his ears. Sweating, Cyrus swung his legs hastily off the side of the bed, foot catching the sheets, tripping him as he tried to get up. The ground caught him in its hard embrace, striking hard, and for a moment he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe, or get up, or blink as the floorboards mocked him, sweat dripping from his face onto the hard wood. No, not sweat…

“Fucking… fucker…” Cyrus gasped, then  struck the ground with the side of his fist, frustration welling up beyond the panic, his heart beating furious against the injustice of a foot snagged in sheets. It seemed so minor – so ridiculous – compared to what he had just relived behind closed eyes. Yet, in the pits of his rage and frustration and sour-spit fear, he curled in on himself, frozen, one leg trapped at an odd angle against the side of his bed, the other folded beneath him, arms shaking.

And he wept.

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I Know You Will {Pt. 4}

Hi SE Readers! Here is part 4 of my SE series, it picks up right after the preview. In a lot of ways it’s the angstiest portion of the series, it’s also dialogue-heavy but I hope you guys can forgive that. I had a lot of fun writing it and I did indeed want it to be devastating so I hope I did my job, any reblogs and comments would be appreciated and nice. The links to the first three (four) parts are below:

People to tag: @thewitchandlonerdiaries @stefan4president @savagetore @tea-moonn @stefan-is-too-sexy-for-you @youareatypo @stelena-forever-and-always @stelena-lover-forever @stelenamagic @emjo029 @beverllarke @stefan-is-too-sexy-for-you @demetrias-stelena @melissasbamonromantictales @kissmebluesexyvioletsme @christinaelena-1 @everythingdobsley @tvtaughtmehowtofeel @fiftyshadesofstelena @denisa-diana @sunnydrive92 @stelenaliveson @stelenaisforever

If you’d like me to tag you let me know!

They love each other as deeply as two people can love each other, but that doesn’t mean that their relationship is infallible.

— Julie Plec,

The pain was even worse than drowning; what Stefan was currently suffering through was a unique form of torment — a psychological torture that anguished his body. No. Not psychological; it wasn’t an experience his mind concocted, this wasn’t an effect of a trauma, this was happening. Memories were falling away or blurring together or disappearing entirely leaving gaps and chasms in his head that he struggled to fill, to make sense of but couldn’t; he was stricken with flashes of images, spikes of emotion so intense that his body convulsed violently. His head pounded with the turmoil and blinded him with excruciating delirium so that he wasn’t sure what was real and what was illusion, what was missing and what was still there or if he was missing anything at all; hot and cold at the same time, sweating and chilled, Stefan’s skin felt tight and feverish — like a prison entrapping him in its confines and he wanted nothing more than to break free of it. He dragged his nails across his arm, scratching with fervour, scratching with rage, like a man possessed, scratching to slash and gash and tear so that he felt himself begin to bleed, his teeth clenched with the pain and then suddenly, he felt it — a soft pressure, a gentle weight, like a hand; first on his own hand so that he stopped scrabbling and then on his scratches so that his itching was instantly soothed, his convulsions calming. Stefan exhaled deeply a number of times, squeezing his eyes open and shut in an attempt to force himself to see something real. A blurry figure. Stooped. Hunched.

           “You should go,” he said, his voice raspy. “You should go, you shouldn’t be here.”

           “Where else would I be?” Elena’s tone was soft but it was also incredulous, almost offended, and she brought Stefan’s head further onto her lap, her fingers running across his forehead, brushing away the hairs plastered against his sweat-prickled skin.

           “Elena, please,” said Stefan. “I don’t want you to—” He coughed and reached once more for his arm, itching at the rakes his nails had left before. Elena grabbed his hand again, keeping it from making contact with his skin; she touched his knuckles to her lips and then bent down to kiss the scratches on his arm. Stefan sighed, it was a slow and relieved sound, and Elena smoothed her palm over his scrapes.

           “Try not to,” she whispered; she tried to keep her voice steady but she could hear the shakiness.

           “I don’t want you seeing me like this.”

           “I don’t care,” she said. “I’m not leaving you.”

           Stefan closed his eyes, swallowing hard and then started to shiver, his teeth chattering. Elena watched him, her lips pressed together to keep from crying, and then looked up to Caroline who was sitting on one of the sofas, her elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her closed hands. She was tight-lipped and wide-eyed, staring at Stefan. A quiet Caroline. Never a good sign. Elena told herself to breathe.

           There was a creak of the floorboard and Elena turned to look in the direction of the noise; Damon and Bonnie had stepped beneath the archway. Damon tilted his head to the side in a gesture for Elena to come. She looked from him to Stefan, a tremor beneath her face.

           “It’s OK,” said Caroline, getting up from the couch. “It’s OK, I’ll watch him.”

           Elena chewed on her bottom lip, looking once more at Stefan. She kissed his forehead and slowly started to shift her position, holding his head, gently moving it back to the pillow, her hand stroking his cheek before standing up fully. She followed Damon and Bonnie into the foyer.

           “He isn’t healing,” said Elena to Bonnie. “Is that a good sign? Does that mean he’s transitioning back into a human? If we was dying he would just desiccate, right?”

           “Normal rules don’t apply here,” said Bonnie. “I spoke to the witches … they don’t even know what this is. Not really.”

           “How is that even possible?” said Damon. “They have all the answers to everything else but when it’s something that’s actually useful, suddenly they’re tapped out?”

           “Well have you ever seen anything like this, Damon? You’ve been alive for over a century, why haven’t you ever come across this?”

            “Because I’m not a witch or a warlock or a wizard, whatever the hell you want to call it. I’m not the one who came up with this.”

           “But considering that this affects you and all vampires, you would think you’d make it your business to know, wouldn’t you?”

           “Listen you little —”


           Damon and Bonnie both turned sharply toward Elena; she was standing still like she was holding her breath and her jaw was set, her eyes slit with fury.

           “I don’t have time for this. Stefan doesn’t have time for this. So I need you two to put your differences aside and FOCUS.”

           Bonnie sighed. “Elena, this magic, it’s old but the application is new. Unique even. This isn’t something witches go around doing, trust me. I don’t even think this has happened before now.”

           “And how am I supposed to believe that? Because the witches said so? How do we know that they’re telling the truth?”

           “Because …” Damon said slowly. “Because if this was something the witches went around doing, they would go around doing it. Vampires would be being purged left and right.”

           “Exactly,” said Bonnie.

           “So then …” Elena shook her head, grabbing her hair with her fists. “Who did this?”

           “Probably the same person who spelled Stefan in the locker,” said Bonnie.

           “OK but why. I don’t understand why anyone would do that to Stefan of all people,” said Elena. “It’s Stefan.”

           “Right, and knowing Stefan, it’s probably some crazy ex.”

           “Oh I wouldn’t call myself an ex, that’s so mundane.”

           Quickly, Elena, Damon and Bonnie turned to the side. Even though none of them heard the front door squeak or unlock or make any kind of noise, it was wide open and a woman was standing on the threshold, smirking.

           Elena’s lips parted. “Rosetta.”

           “Hello again, Elena.”

           Elena couldn’t do anything but stare at the woman in front of her. She’d shown up in Mystic Falls months earlier when Elena had still been a vampire and she’d shown up for Stefan. It had been the only time Elena had doubted herself in her relationship. When Katherine came back, she’d been bothered, anxious at the thought of her and him alone together but never worried that anything would happen between them; when Rebekah passed through town, Elena had been vexed, beyond irritated by the woman who dared to think she knew Stefan better. But with Rosetta … she had managed to make Elena feel small in the brief moments they interacted; Elena had been privy to Stefan’s memories of his nights with her and seeing the intensity of what they’d shared had made Elena question not her place in Stefan’s heart but the extent to which she satiated his appetite.  And now Rosetta was here. Now she was responsible. Now Elena was enraged. It was the first time since turning human that she longed for her vampirism just so she could ram Rosetta’s head through the door.  

“Wait. Hold on,” said Damon, interrupting Elena’s thoughts. He turned to her.  “Who is this?”

           “You mean you don’t know?” Elena looked at Rosetta, raising her eyebrows. “That’s how much you meant to Stefan, his own brother didn’t even know about you.”

           Rosetta laughed. “Honey, why would he know? What Stefan and I share is private, our own little secret if you will.”

           “Shared. Past tense.”

           “Is someone going to fill me in or — ?”

           “She was a witch Stefan lost his virginity to,” snapped Elena. “He met her in 1845.”

           Damon furrowed his eyebrows. “Moving past the fact that I’m mildly impressed Human Stefan was able to bag a woman as hot as you, this is a bit of an overreaction for something that probably only lasted a couple of minutes, isn’t it?”

           Rosetta pursed her lips sardonically. “Do you really want to go down that road, Damon? You spent a century pining for a woman who didn’t love you back.”

           “How do you know —?”

           “You wear your resentment of Katherine like a suit of armour, I can Read it all over you,” she said. “Besides, I wasn’t just Stefan’s first time, I was his first lover.” She rolled her tongue around the ‘er’ of the word ‘lover’. “And when I left Mystic Falls, he begged me to link him to me so that he’d be able to feel it every time we were near.”

           “He regrets ever asking you to do that,” said Elena through clenched teeth, her hands closed in fists.

           “Oh I know he does,” said Rosetta.

“Then what’s the point? Stefan said that you didn’t ‘do’ relationships, that you don’t like being tied down to one person.”

“I don’t.”

“So then why are you doing this?”

Rosetta shrugged and started trailing her fingers up the doorway, watching the movements they made along the wood. “I thought it would be interesting.”

           “You thought — you thought it would be interesting? What the hell is wrong with you?” Elena took a step forward but Damon held her by the shoulder and pulled her easily back to the spot she was about to leave.

           “You don’t have vampire strength anymore, remember?” he muttered.

           Rosetta rolled her eyes. “Ugh, children. Honestly, I don’t see what it is that Stefan sees in you. You’re so young, so righteous, you’d never be able to understand.”

           “Make me understand why you would do this to him!”

           “I’m bored, little girl. When you’ve been alive for as long as I’ve been alive, life can start to get monotonous and you have to create your own fun.” Rosetta’s eyes turned to Damon. “Ask him, he knows.”

           Bonnie and Elena turned to look at him and he shrugged. “I mean … I don’t go around torturing people—”

           “Yes you do!” said Bonnie.

           “Not for fun. I mean, I’m not going to say that I don’t enjoy it when I do it but if I do it there’s a purpose.”

           Bonnie shook her head. “There’s never a purpose to —”

           “I still don’t see why,” said Elena loudly, cutting over Bonnie. “You had to choose Stefan to do this sadistic experiment on.”

“Stefan was one of the things in my world that didn’t get boring and you took that away from me. So I thought I could find other ways to make him interesting to me.”

“You didn’t have to torture him!” said Elena.

“No but he was rude to me,” said Rosetta simply. “He made me feel unwanted.”

           “You make Katherine look like Mary Freaking Poppins,” said Damon. “Stefan really knows how to pick ’em.”

           Cries of anguish sounded from the living and blared throughout the house to the foyer, the noise ragged and rough with indescribable agony. Elena closed her eyes. “I thought you cared about him!”

           Rosetta turned to lean against the doorway. “I care about what he can offer me and if it isn’t his body then…”

           “What, it has to be his pain?” Elena took another step forward and Damon moved to block her again but she struggled against his grasp. Stefan’s screams echoed in Elena’s head, a permanent tear in her chest; the image of him weak and sick, delirious and barely conscious stirred a frenzy within her that made her entire body tremble. “Don’t you hear him?”

“I do. I hear him dying.”

Damon and Bonnie spoke at the same time. “Dying?”

“I’m not saying he isn’t fighting it. He is,” said Rosetta. “He’s fighting harder than he’s ever fought before to come back to you, Elena. And you, Damon. He’ll linger for days. Maybe even weeks. In excruciating agony. But in the end he’ll die.”

“You don’t know him,” said Elena. “He’ll break through this.”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ll ensure it,” said Rosetta. “This entire situation is of my concoction and the minute I’m bored of watching him fight for his life, the minute I don’t get any kind of entertainment watching you and Damon and everyone else live and die with each of his coughs or convulsions, I will end it all. I have that kind of power.”

“What happened to you that this is how you use your power?” said Bonnie. “This is a perversion of magic.”

           Rosetta raised her eyebrows at Bonnie and grinned. “And using your magic to cut corners and revive the dead isn’t a perversion? The witches told me about you, Bonnie. You have Bennett ability, you might even be the most powerful Bennett yet, but you’re shutting down your own potential messing around with the natural order of things.”

           “And this isn’t messing around with the natural order of things?”

           “Stefan is a vampire. Nothing about him is natural,” said Rosetta. “I may have slowed down the aging process but I am not immortal. I’m a human. I belong here.  Personally, I don’t care. I never cared about the skirmishes between witches and vampires, I am not an orthodox witch preoccupied with the balance and nature or whatever else, but the witches aren’t punishing me for this because they are.”

           In an instant, Damon sped toward Rosetta who simply moved her eyes sideways and Damon flew backward crashing into the wall opposite the door, cracking the wood panelling, his head twisting to an impossible angle. She sighed. “Oh Damon. Forever the impulsive one,” she said. “I am nearly twice as old as Katherine and I’m a witch. You really think you could killing me would be that simple?”  

“OK,” said Elena sharply. “OK. We get it. You’re in control. You control him. You control me. You control Stefan. What do you want?”

           “Maybe what I want is to see him die.”

           “No,” said Elena. “No, that wouldn’t be interesting. Death may not always be final but it isn’t particularly stimulating either. What do you want that’s interesting?”

           Rosetta regarded Elena and then raised her eyebrow ponderously. “Stefan alone.”


           “I will let him live if you and Damon and Caroline and Bonnie, if all of you leave him alone, never go near him, never contact him. Better yet if he wakes up from his delirium in a completely new town.”    

           “WHAT?” Elena yelled. “He’s going to lose all of his vampire memories! If he wakes up in 2016 not knowing why or how he got here or even what year it is or what happened to Damon, he’s going to go mad!”

           “Which will be tremendously interesting, don’t you think?”

           Elena shook her head frantically, gesticulating wildly. “You’re insane!”

           “She’s right, that would be interesting,” said Damon.

           Bonnie and Elena snapped their heads around to look at him. “Damon!”

           “Just because I agree with the premise doesn’t mean I think we should let it happen,” said Damon, massaging his neck as he stood up. “I’m sure we can bargain.”

           “But I’m not really in the mood to haggle…”

           Stefan’s cries grew louder and Elena squeezed her eyes shut, hunching her shoulders, her heart thudding against her chest. “Please, you can’t do this to him. He meant something to you once. He had to. He means something to everyone at least once. He’s a good person, like a truly good person. What will it take for you to reconsider? What do I have to do?”  

           Rosetta considered Elena for a minute and then started pacing, swinging her arms back and forth, making clucking sounds with her tongue as she wandered. “You’ve really moved me, Elena,” she said finally. “Really, you have. I have a certain disdain for relationships, for being limited, trapped to one person, it’s really quite dull. But what you and Stefan share …” She sighed. “It’s the real thing. To be tethered to someone, to be naturally tied to them, Honest to God soulmates …  I don’t think you realize how rare that is. So.” She clapped her hands together. “To honour that, I’ll be nice. You have to let him forget you, Elena. You have to let him forget Caroline and Bonnie, Matt and Tyler and Jeremy, everyone. And he has to wake up in a new town. But —”

           “Wait a minute—”

           “Damon, shut up,” said Elena. She looked at Rosetta. “Go on.”

Rosetta smirked. “But. I will allow him one journal; one journal that you think best explains his vampirism and Damon, you only have to stay away from him for … I don’t know, ten years?”

           “Two,” said Damon.



           “Fine, five,” said Rosetta. “And he gets one letter from you, one letter explaining why you aren’t with him for those five years and Elena.” Rosetta turned to her. “You get to write one line in it. OK one sentence. One sentence in the letter. But if either of you mention her, if anything in that journal mentions their relationship or if any of you try to jog his memory about the six years he spent here after meeting Elena, I will kill you, Damon, while he watches and then kill him while you watch, Elena, and then things will be really interesting. Are we understood?”

           Elena opened her mouth, her bottom lip quivering. “I’ll do it on one condition,” she said.

           “You have no leverage here and you’re giving me conditions?”

           “One condition.”

           “Alright, I’m intrigued. What is it?”  

Bonnie took Elena by the arm and pulled her to the side so that they were huddled together. “Elena, don’t do anything rash. I’m sure we can figure something out. There can be a spell or a potion, I’m getting really good with those now. There has to be something in someone’s grimoire. There’s always something.”

           Elena looked at Bonnie sadly. “There isn’t another way. Like you said, this is a unique case, no one before us has gone through anything like it. I just need him to be safe.”

           “This condition? I’m getting bored…”

           “You sever the tie you made between yourself and him. He’ll remember you from his human memories, that’s enough.”

           Rosetta smiled. “Agreed.”

           Elena looked to Damon who gave a curt nod. “OK it’s a deal,” she said.

           Rosetta grinned and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. She muttered something in Latin and her entire body started to tremor, the walls began shaking, the lights began to shatter so that glass splintered everywhere, and then just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. She opened her eyes.

           “You have until the end of the day to get everything in order.”

           “The end of the day?” said Damon. “To write a letter, pick a journal out of his hundreds of journals, to get him to a new town, set him up with a bank account—”

           Rosetta quirked her eyebrow. “I’m being generous,” she said. “Don’t make me take it back.”

           “The end of the day, we understand,” said Elena quietly. “Now get the hell out.”

           “I’m starting to understand what it is Stefan sees in you,” said Rosetta, chuckling. “You’re more interesting than you look, Elena Gilbert.” She waved an ironic goodbye and then turned on her heel and sauntered out of the Salvatore Mansion.

           The minute she left, there was a whisper of speed and Caroline was in the foyer with the rest of them. “I heard everything. What do we do?”

           “We can’t risk him dying,” said Elena. “If we do anything to upset her—”

           “Or bore her,” said Damon.

           “Then Stefan dies. So we prepare. Damon write the letter and pick a journal. Make sure he talks about Lexi in it,” said Elena. “I can’t let him forget her. I won’t. Caroline, if you can make it down to the bank, it’s going to require some compulsion to get everything we need in such a short period of time. Bonnie …” Elena sighed. “Just … just see if you can find anything on how to fix this or on how to kill her or immobilize her, I don’t know anything, just in case. You can see if Matt or Jeremy want to help. Either of you.”

           “And what are you going to do?” said Caroline.

           “Be with him,” said Elena simply. “I’m going to be with him and I’m going to look up vacancies in towns close by, look up schools, look up jobs, get him set up.”

           “How are you going to do both?” said Damon.

           “It’s called the internet, Damon,” said Caroline, rolling her eyes. “Your laptop is in his room? I’ll go get it.”

           “Actually …” Elena pressed her lips together. “Could you two bring him up to his room? He should be in his bed.”

           “Of course,” said Caroline.

           Elena watched teary-eyed as everyone scrambled to action; Caroline and Damon speeding into the living room to bring Stefan up to his room, Bonnie rushing out the front door, reaching into her pocket for her cell phone, probably to call Matt or Jeremy or both. Quickly, she put her hand to her stomach in an attempt to keep herself together, to stop herself from falling apart, from giving way to the sorrow itching her to splinter her apart. She took a deep breath and remembered what Stefan had taught her the last time she was close to letting emotion overwhelm her and focused on the one thing that made her strong, that worked at keeping her fused together — the one line she would write to him in the letter:

           I know you will. I know you will. I know you will. I know you will. I know you will…

azxremarksman replied to your post♒ It’s really hot outside, so your Muse has…

“Its so ungodly hot out Weiss.” Neptune panted as he tried to fan himself off with a book. Where Weiss was looking she could see beads of sweat form on his tan torso and forehead

Weiss’s pale face would only grow darker red the longer she stared. She felt wrong for staring, but she couldn’t really help it.

She eventually does manage to tear her gaze away, fanning at her own face with the hand-fan she had bought along, using it to cool herself down as well as using it to hide her blush and stop herself from looking at him again.

“E-Even so, there is no need to undress yourself!”