#But your desire to reclaim your shit would be fully present.

[shrikeseams]

Not going to lie, I find it weird and off-putting when people characterize Feanor (& sons) desire to reclaim the silmarils as 'greed'. Like.

Is it greedy to want your own shit back? Like is it outrageous to try to reclaim your own property that has been stolen AT MINIMUM once, and in one case twice, and in the ultimate end stolen and then subsequently taken as war booty by a neglegent if not outright hostile force? Is 'greed' the word you really want to use? Is that a word you would use you you translated the situation into something of your own? If someone stole your bike, or your wallet, or a piece of art that you made, and you expected it to be returned to you... would you want to be called 'greedy' for that?

idk there's just something weird about wanting to reclaim objects that are both a) important representations of calaquendi noldor culture and craft and b) a literal embodiment of the divine light that recalls better being described as excessive and unreasonable that rubs me the wrong way.

Just to be clear: I am not endorsing acts of violence to meet the above goals! But 'greed' does not denote excessive force or unjust means! It denotes unjust desire. Characterizing Feanor's drive to reclaim the silmarils as greed means that the desire itself is unjustifiable or unreasonable.

[sugamoonv]

Chapter 6

Title: At Last

Word Count: 3.5k+

Genre: Drama, Romance, Supernatural

Pairings: Poly!BTS x Reader/ OT7 x Reader

Warnings: smut- masturbation, voy, heavy petting

Summary: Since the beginning of their existence, BTS has been cursed to share one soulmate with each other. It doesn’t help that she’s mortal and they’re not.

Masterlist / Prologue / Chapter 5 / Chapter 7

When you wake the next morning and try to move you find that Jimin isn’t the only one responsible for keeping you immobile. Sometime during the night, Jin and Hoseok must have come into the room because they are fast asleep on the same bed. Jin is cuddled into your back, sandwiching you between him and Jimin, and Hoseok is partially laid upon Jimin. If Jimin feels the weight on him, it is unclear as he continues to sleep. Namjoon walks into the room fully dressed and you squint at him with sleep-clouded eyes.

“Hey, sorry, his symptoms started acting up again last night so I brought him here,” Namjoon’s referring to Jin. “I don’t know when Hobi joined you guys though. I had nothing to do with that,” he laughs. “I went to your room and you weren’t there.”

The fogginess lifts. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you maneuver yourself out of bed and away from the boys without waking them up somehow. Jin subconsciously feels the emptiness of the space you occupied and throws his arms out, searching for you. One his arm falls on Jimin, he falls still again.

“I, um- I ran into Jimin last night and we just fell asleep talking,” you explain with a blush on your face.

Namjoon nods, “That’s okay. I grew worried when I couldn’t find you but I was happy to find you with Jimin.” His voice is low, still somewhat laced with sleep. “I came in to wake you all up. I don’t want any of you missing breakfast.”

You flinch, “Sorry, I’ll make sure to get up earlier next time so you don’t have to.”

Namjoon grabs both of your shoulders, “If you’re tired, I would rather you sleep, nae sarang.”

“Nae sarang?” you repeat the little bit of Korean.

A blush spreads on Namjoon’s cheeks, barely noticeable but still present, and he smiles and shyly glances to the ground, “It’s, uh, it’s a nickname. It doesn’t mean anything.”

You don’t press him. You can easily look up the meaning later. With his reassurance, you head back to your room to get ready for the day as he focuses on waking up the three sleeping boys. He tells you that Jungkook and Taehyung are already up.

“Why can’t any of you stay in your own room?” you mutter as you see Yoongi’s curled body on top of your comforter, hands tucked in between his knees. You crouch down at the side of the bed to caress his face before you lightly nudge him, “Yoongi, you have to get up.” He slowly blinks at you and drags his body up to a sitting position. He watches with a soft expression as you gather clothes for yourself from your suitcase. There’s no need to unpack since you’ll be traveling from place to place so often.

“You should go get ready.”

You hear a soft click from the door shutting as you brush your teeth.

You grow accustomed to the expectations put on you over the next couple of days as they finish shooting their music video. You listen to Jimin’s advice and grow accustomed to all of Bangtan’s affection without any questions. After spending every second with at least one of them, it’s become such a normal thing that you’re sure you would collapse without it.

Jin and Yoongi recover exceptionally fast. The second day that you’re with them, they’re back to their former glory and by the fourth day, you have to actively fight to stay on task as they’ve all somehow gotten better looking and even a simple glance at them threatens to derail you from doing your job.

After a few more weeks of work, all of the boys are filled with excited energy as you board the plane, asking you questions and filling you in on the things you’ll come to love in Korea. It’s difficult for you to listen no matter how much you will yourself to, lack of sleep catching up to you. How they’re so lively, you have no idea. With the extremely long work days and each of them and you abandoning sleep at least once to stay talking, they should be more exhausted than you. Jungkook steals the seat next to you, and you would definitely be laughing at the boys whining if you were able to keep your eyes open.

“This has to stop.”

You found yourself back in the same cafe with Aiko. She’s been visiting you every night, and after some time, she wonderfully informed you that her visits were not in fact dreams, but completely real. The results of your tests had unfortunately been carried over with you to the next day and you had been forced to hide the desire to limp in front of everybody. Perhaps kicking a table and nearly breaking your toe wasn’t the best way to go about things.

“I’m tired. I don’t get why you keep doing this,” you sit down and slump your body onto the table. Aiko remains standing.

Pity flashes across her face, “I know this has been difficult for you to endure, but it is what’s necessary.” You knead your forehead in the palms of your hands. “I do not wish to be here any more than you. Getting you here is becoming increasingly difficult, and the whole process is already complicated, even to witches with as much experience as myself.”

“Then stop bringing me here!” you snap, “And stop with the whole witch shit. Every, single, time, we meet, you always work in that one tidbit of information. Like, I get that you’re a witch because you literally won’t let me forget. I got that you were a witch the night you explained it to me. I only got two hours of real sleep that night,” you lean back in the chair, throwing your arms up in the air and let them fall in your lap with a loud slap, “and then the next day, the boys were so busy I didn’t have time to eat so I almost passed out. Jin tried to put me on bed rest!”

You’re wide eyes angrily rake over Aiko’s figure, “What I’m asking is what the point of these visits are,” you make air quotes at ‘visits’, “You never tell me anything useful, this is all pointless.”

“I make these visits to expose you to magic, to help you build a tolerance to it. Without me, you would have already been lost to them,” she says tersely.

“I don’t really see how that’s a bad thing,” you shout. “I’d rather that than have to deal with you anymore. And with the way they make me feel...” you falter, “it’s not something I can just ignore. I doubt any of your, fucking magic, can change things.”

Aiko’s face remains passive. “I never said that my magic could change your relationship with them. I’m using my magic to help you.”

“Well, I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” Aiko retorts, letting some of her own anger.

“You know what? If you hate them all so much, then why did you help them, huh?” you cross your legs, “You could have just refused.”

“And have myself killed?” she tilts her head, “No one says no to Bangtan.”

You roll your eyes. “Please.” you scoff, “You act as if they’re all monsters. They wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

“Not yours.”

Aiko’s arms are crossed now and she shifts on her feet. She looks at you and purses her lips. A beat passes and suddenly you’re back on the plane. Jungkook napping next to you and across the aisle, Hoseok and Taehyung are in their own worlds, listening to music. They don’t notice you looking at them. Blinking back tears of frustration, you stare at the back of the seat in front of you. With a shuddered breath, you reposition yourself in your seat so that sleep may reclaim you.

You wake up to the sound of Jungkook laughing and whispering around you. You scrunch your face and snuggle closer into your pillow in an attempt to block out the noise and fall back asleep. But when you hear several coos and a faint clicking sound, you open your eyes to see your face is buried directly in Jungkook’s neck.

You jerk back. The boys are surrounding you and Jungkook. Jimin and Namjoon craning over the backs of your seats, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok crowded in the aisle. Taehyung has his camera out and Jin and Hoseok still have their phones pointed towards you. You get a head rush from moving too fast and reach out, in which Jungkook responds by offering his arm so you have something to ground yourself with.

“Did we land?” you ask rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

They all shake their heads. You yawn and move to get out of your seat. Jungkook does the same and ushers into the aisle to let you out.

Paparazzi swarm around you as you all step into the airport. The boys form somewhat of a circle around you but that doesn’t stop the camera flashes from nearly blinding you as you walk. They all keep their heads ducked, and before you left the hanger, had either donned a mask, sunglasses, or a hat. On the way to the dorm, the soft lull of the moving car made you drowsy enough to make you fall asleep again. But as the car pulled through the gates, your drowsiness was replaced with anticipation to finally see the boys’ dorms.

You’re not disappointed. Right off the bat, the huge elevator that you all pile into is far more luxurious than your old apartment. There were two other doors in the hallway for other apartments that different groups stayed in, spaced far, far apart from each other.

Just one room could fit your whole apartment in it twice. Everything was impeccably clean, the floor and every table and countertop had a shine to it. The furniture looked barely used. You assumed that all of the boys’ trinkets and belongings were in their actual room as the living areas had a very minimalist vibe surprisingly. Taehyung and Jimin energetically give you a tour which ends at your room, the others scattering along the way.

Your room leaves you speechless. Taehyung and Jimin stare at your gaping mouth with wide, excited smiles as you take everything in. All of your belongings have been set up perfectly. You can even see some of your clothes hanging up and your shoes in a neat row on top of a rack on the side of the room. You had been expecting to have to unpack everything yourself and now you’re glad that you didn’t have to because it would have taken forever, and frankly, you don’t think you could have ever made the room look as good as whoever unpacked for you.

The bed, adorned with at least fifteen pillows and an intricately designed quilt was big enough to probably be able to fit ten people on it. And whoever designed your room must have extremely good intuition because your walls were painted your favorite color, a darker color is used for accents. The hardwood floor was warm against your now bare feet and you felt like you were in heaven as you stepped onto the plush rug in the center of the room.

“Do you like it?” Taehyung asks, hopeful.

“It’s perfect,” you murmur.

Jimin steps into the room and wraps his arms around you in a side hug, “We’ll let you get settled in. Dinner should be ready soon.” He kisses the top of your head and soon your left by yourself.

After testing the softness of your bed and exploring around your room for some time, you make your way to the dining room where the boys are already sitting and eating. An empty seat is saved next to Hoseok. You notice there’s a considerable less amount of alcohol, something that you’re grateful for as you don’t want your first day in the dorms spent with a hangover.

You all opted to watch a movie together once you finished eating. Well, you were the one that had suggested a movie. Jin had simply asked what you would like to do. So after cleaning up, or trying to (with each attempt, one of the boys would rush over and take the dirty plate or cup from your hands), you managed to squeeze yourself onto the couch with Namjoon, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Hoseok. You sat in between Namjoon and Yoongi, Taehyung and Hoseok on Namjoon’s side.

Instead of sitting in the chairs adjacent to the couch, Jimin sat on the floor using your legs as a backrest. Jin decidedly doing the same with Namjoon. Jungkook had been busy deciding on what movie to watch and when he finally noticed the seating arrangement, he sulked over to sit in one of the chairs by himself.

The movie was in Korean but Jungkook had been nice enough to put on English subtitles for you follow along with. Something you wish you didn’t need especially because Jungkook had chosen a horror movie. And you weren’t the type to jump at everything in horror movie, but having to focus on the subtitles left you lagging and more susceptible to sudden jump scares.

One jumpscare, in particular, had caught you off guard. You recoil back in your seat and your hands shoot out towards Namjoon and Yoongi. Your eyes are glued to the screen so you don’t give attention to Yoongi’s laugh or the sudden hiss that leaves Namjoon’s. Namjoon tenses under your touch but you play it off as him being as scared as you until the main characters in the movie find safety and you see where your hand is.

You immediately yank your hand off of Namjoon’s crotch, a mortified look on your red face. He presses his head against the back of the couch, hands balled on his lap and eyes tightly shut. Luckily the other boys are too enraptured to notice.  You look forward, hoping to shift your thoughts from Namjoon back to the movie, but his constant shifting draws you back to him. Every time you sneak a glance at him, he has the same expression on his face. He almost looks angry with his lidded eyes and chin jutted forward.

The second the credits start rolling, Namjoon shoots up and darts to his room. His member’s eyes follow him curiously but none of them say anything. Surprisingly, it’s Taehyung that announces he’s going to bed first. Feeling the fatigue set in, you repeat the same thing, going around and hugging each person goodnight before heading off to your room.

An hour passes by of you just tossing and turning in bed when you finally get up to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. The dorm is completely dark as everyone’s gone to bed, some light filtering into the hallway from the boys’ individual rooms. You can hear quiet talking in Korean but what stops you are the low moans coming from one of the rooms. Namjoon’s room. You know you shouldn’t but you can't help yourself as you lean against the wall next to the door to hear better. With the way your heart is racing, you’re pretty sure it’s louder than the moans you thought you heard.

It falls silent, making you doubt you heard anything in the first place when you hear Namjoon’s voice.

“Oh fuck, baby,”

Air escapes from your lungs and a sharp pleasure shoots to your core. That’s definitely Namjoon’s voice, only you thought you would ever hear him in this context in one of your fantasies. If you listen closely enough, you think you’re able to faintly hear the other sounds his activity is making. You want to leave to give him his privacy, but another moan escapes his lips, you find your feet rooted.

“Ah, fuck. I bet you’d take my cock so well.” You close your eyes and sinfully imagine that it’s you he’s talking to. You who’s making him feel good.

Your breath comes out in short puffs and it takes all your willpower to stop you from reaching down and touching yourself in the hallway. You still realize where you are and every minute you glance down the hallway in case someone else decides to leave their room.

Just as you’re about to force yourself to walk away, you hear Namjoon calling out your name. You're terrified at first. Did he know you were out here? But as his groans mix in with the sound of your name, you realize he hadn’t caught you, Namjoon was cumming, to the thought of you.

You down the first glass of water within seconds. Your hands are shaking and you can’t stop the heat that pools in your lower stomach. It’s quiet as you hurriedly walk past Namjoon’s door again back to your room. You slam yours shut, not paying attention to the loud echo it makes, and lie back down. As you stare at the ceiling, your mind replays the sound of your name tumbling from Namjoon’s lips over and over again. Frustrated and needing release, you push down your pajama bottoms and just as your fingers make contact with your outer lips, a knock comes from your door.

You freeze, trying not to make noise in hopes that the person at your door leaves. But it’s in vain as you hear another set of knocks and Taehyung’s voice, “Y/N? Are you still up?”

You whimper and quickly make yourself decent again. You call out to Taehyung saying it’s fine to come in and he peeks his head through the entrance before shuffling in. Despite him interrupting you, you find it hard to be annoyed at his boxy grin. He says nothing as he lays down and inches his way directly next to you on the bed.

How you were previously laying feels uncomfortable with Taehyung now pressed against you. You maneuver yourself in a new position so that Taehyung is spooning you from behind, where he nudges your calf with his foot and you slightly part your legs to intertwine them with his. As you move, you hear him suddenly inhale and his grip on your waist tightens.  

You feel his hesitation as Taehyung plants a kiss on your neck. He slides his hands down to your hips and his fingers tickle the sliver of exposed stomach. Still intoxicated from your previous arousal, you silently give consent, tilting your head to give Taehyung more access and his kisses grow bolder. He nips along your jawline and makes his way to the corner of your lips. His hand comes up to palm your cheek and he nudges you to look back at him to fully meet his lips.

Your lips clash together and he’s quick to begin teasing your lower lip with his tongue. The way Taehyung grinds into you causes you to gasp, which he uses as an opportunity to fully slip his tongue in. You let him win the fight for dominance and his tongue pleasurable swirls in your mouth. He grips your hips hard and drags you so you grind back against his growing erection again, forcing you to moan into his mouth.

Confident that you’ll keep moving your hips with his, his hands slip under your shirt and pet up your stomach. You don’t know if you should be embarrassed or grateful that is had become a habit to sleep without a bra as Taehyung’s cup your breasts. As he rolls a nipple in his fingers, you throw your head back and press your ass further against Taehyung. He groans and searches for your lips again.

Taehyung continues playing with and kneading one of your breast as one of his hands travels down to the hem of your pajama bottoms.

“Can I?” he asks for permission, voice overladen with lust. You quickly nod, desperate to feel his touch.

His hands tease around your entrance causing you whimper pitifully, wordlessly begging him for more. Complying, Taehyung dips his fingers into your folds, gathering your slick upon his fingers to begin rubbing circles into your clit. Your sharp cry rings through the air and your knuckles turn white gripping onto the bed sheet and Taehyung’s shirt. He grinds into you harder, seeking out his own pleasure and through your haze, you reach back to palm him. He lets out a shuddered breath and thrust his clothed dick into your hand to create more friction.

Soon you’re not able to focus on anything but Taehyung’s hands. One alternating between your clit and searching out your g-spot and the other continuing its ministrations against your breasts, your pleasure is drawn out until the coil in your stomach snaps. You spasm against Taehyung, vision going white with pleasure as your pussy clenches around nothing. Taehyung continues to draw circles into your clit and you can hear him behind you groaning into the nap of your neck. As you come back down, Taehyung grounds his hips into your ass a few more times before his body stiffens against yours, your hips trapped in a death grip, and he lets out a loud moan as he reaches his high.

Taehyung shifts you both so you lay in a different position. He quickly falls asleep, arms wrapped around you and the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your head lulled you closer to sleep. The warmth radiating from Taehyung’s body onto yours and the relaxation in your muscles fully bringing you to fall asleep too.

A.N: Hey guys, Im so sorry for the wait. Thank you all for being so patient. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it bc some of you asked for some smut. This is my first time writing smut, so if you have any criticisms or suggestions, Id be more than willing to hear them! Other than that, let me know what you think, like or reblog if you wish!

Tags: @rosymccheese @craftypersoncheesecake @ficcion-escrita @twilight-loveer @xsmilebitesx @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @detectivebourbon @perfectlyfangirling @respectfully-yours-emily @delightfulyoongi @disfoqia @deathsasshole @mint-myg-yoongi @vljvanessa @young-yellkie @jungkookssistan @sincemalik @milady-mira @stardustjjk @recoveringflowerchild @xandraray22 @shelley-hennig14 @riyahrocks @eshika0102 @justapotatonow

[wxldchxld]

Every third question for our favorite fox

Oh y’all better buckle up.

003. Does your character like coffee better, or tea?

Beck’s not allowed to have coffee. The world isn’t ready for that degree of energy. But also she just enjoys tea better.

006. What sense do they most rely on?

It depends on the form she’s currently in. For instance in hawk form it’s definitely sight, fox form most of it’s hearing, bear form it’s smell. In her human form idk if she relies on this the most but she’s probably at least the most aware of her sense of sight?

009. Do they believe in happy endings?

Sure. She’s not really the Debbie Downer type, and she fully believes she could have been truly happy with Harper if not for her penchant for self-indulgence and her overwhelming anxiety when it comes to conforming to society.

012. What makes your character embarrassed?

I’m not super sure this is a feeling Beck has tbh XD. I have a whole headcanon about this somewhere that I’ll link if you can find it. But like, it’s near impossible to embarrass Beck.

015. Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?

Beck’s not very likely to fight at all. She loves to stir shit up and rile people that she doesn’t like especially (or ones she wants to fuck lmfao), but when things turn into a real fight even if it’s just an argument, Beck’s more likely to head for the door. She dislikes confrontation. It makes her very uncomfortable.

018. Your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

Probably leave. If leaving it’s an option she’ll keep her head down until she has to do something. Like I said Beck doesn’t do fighting unless her back is to the wall and she has no choice. If she had to take some sort of role in a war it would probably be more espionage related.

021. How do they display affection?

All of the ways. TBH Beck is very affectionate even to her friends. Most prominently she wants to touch you and be touched. She’s very touch motivated. But she’ll also make things like knitting scarves and hats or cook food for her loved ones. She spends a lot of time with that person rather than running off into the woods constantly. She’ll sing to you a lot. And basically she’ll just kind of actually listen to you and respect you. Like if you tell her something to do she’ll do it rather than being an asshole.

024. What do they consider ugly in others physically?

Beck’s not super down with bodily hair. It’s one of the big reasons that even tho she’s bi she doesn’t fuck a lot of dudes. She’s never understood why women’s hair is supposedly gross and men can just grow a fur pelt on their legs/arms/chest/underarms and no one says shit. She’s a million times more likely to sleep with a man who shaves. 

She also just finds a general lack of hygiene to be a real turn off. Beck makes it a point, even living in the woods, even without the constant use of magic, to look presentable. She doesn’t like people that look nasty. Wash your hair. Take a bath. Brush your teeth. Otherwise she’s taking a hard pass.

027. What is their idea of perfect happiness?

Beck’s idea of perfect happiness is finding someone who will live with her and travel with her and they can be wild wanderers and roam the world together unburdened by people. Where her familiars are happy and safe and she’s free.

030. Do they believe in the afterlife?

Sort of? Witch opinions vary just as much as ours when it comes to what happens to you after you die, with each theory holding a significant amount of weight. Beck’s in the unique position where she doesn’t often thing about it, because she knows her “death” it’s really going to be a thing. As a feral witch her life, unless abruptly ended through murder, is going to end with her spirit being reclaimed by the wilds, and never returning to the world of men or the life she knew before.

033. Do they keep their promises?

Beck generally doesn’t make promises. If she does, whether or not she keeps them depends on who you are to her. She’s a liar and a manipulator and a con-woman, of course she’s going to break promises. When she makes a witch’s deal (something she can’t break) she makes sure only to make them if they’re stacked in her favor and she’s able to fuck someone over if the desire strikes her.

Beck does try to keep promises she makes to people she genuinely likes. Like there are a couple of promises she made to Fen when they were kids, and even though he’s been warped and changed over the years, she still keeps her promises to him, even though he can’t hold her to them.

036. How honorable is your character?

….I mean not really at all.

039. What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?

Imprisonment, probably? Or being forced to change who they really are.

042. What is their greatest achievement?

She’s a very good shifter and a decent dream walker. These are both abilities she was born with, sure, but having any control over your dream walking takes a lot of time and practice, and most witches never learn to take the form of anything aside from their clan symbol.

045. Does your character have any chronic medical conditions?

Not really

048. Do they have any allergies?

She often claims to be allergic to people who annoy her but that’s 100 percent not true and she’s allergy free. Witches on the whole tend to be very healthy creatures.

051. If they knew they would die tomorrow, what would they do today?

Probably contact Fenris and Harper and Cora and her amma. Mostly Fenris and Harper, because there’s still a lot unsaid between them. She’d want to say goodbye to Cora and her amma, but one of her greatest fears is dying without talking to her brother one last time and letting him know some things. Harper isn’t as dire to where it causes her anxiety to even entertain the thought that she might die without having one last talk, but if she KNEW she was dying, she’d want to try and give Harper closure, to let her know their fall out wasn’t Harper’s fault, and to tell her that she still loved her.

054. Does your character want power or authority of any kind?

Nah. Beck’s attracted to women that have both power and authority, but that’s just her type. Beck herself really has no interest in being in charge of anything. That’s too much responsibility. And the only power she needs is the power to do what she wants—which she has.

057. Has your character ever killed anyone?

It depends on the verse. In her verse for t100 yes she has killed and more than once. Each time was out of self defense and she had no other options.

060. What is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?

As an educator myself her attitude toward education is frustratingly apathetic. She was so severely neglected as a child that paired with her dyslexia she never really learned how to read beyond some very basic shit. Math was always frustrating for her. Service was hell for Beck because when it comes to reading spell books she’s useless, and she’s not particularly interested in learning spells she doesn’t feel will be of use to her. So like, she’ll encourage other people if they want to get an education, but she’s going to take a pass.

063. How well does your character handle difficult people?

Fairly well? I guess it depends on the type of difficult. Like I have a verse with @lcgioned where Beck’s life goal seems to annoy Lexa into an early grave, and yet she gets along with post-dictator Octavia just fine. Beck doesn’t really have a temper, and she doesn’t really do fights, so it’s hard to be too difficult for her. She just kind of rolls with it. 

The kind of person she really struggles with is the one that wants her to conform. The one that tells her she can’t act that way or scolds her because her behavior reflects poorly on them. If Beck doesn’t already like that person, for example she’s more than willing to behave to make Asha look good in my verse with @ashayara, then they can fuck off. Respect from Beck, in large part, comes from affection, and she doesn’t just listen to people because she should or she was told to. She won’t be controlled and micromanaged, so in order to curb her less desirable habits you have to be smart and endear her to you so that she’ll care about what you think. Because in general she doesn’t care how people see her. She doesn’t care if they think she’s strange or crazy, she’s living her gd life and it’s not their business.

066. Does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?

Nature. She doesn’t even tolerate cities well. They make her irritated and sometimes, if she’s subjected to them long enough, physically ill from all the anxiety they cause.

069. What about your character is heroic?

Hahahahahahahahahahaha………. I don’t know?????? I’m so sorry. I don’t see anything about Beck as heroic. Beck won’t like, stand by and let you murder a child or something horrendous if it’s like, right there in front of her. Like if she’s faced with something that she can put a stop to without it being too much of a risk to herself or her familiars she’ll do it, but Beck isn’t going out of her way to help people because it’s the “right” thing to do and she’s rarely going to put herself in danger unless it’s someone she loves on the line.

072. In a Dungeons & Dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)

I have never played D&D, so I honestly couldn’t answer this? I would assume either a wizard or a ranger just from what the name sounds like, but Idk.

075. Is your character ticklish?

Very and in all forms so think on that for a good while.

078. How emotionally stable is your character?

Beck lives in a stone fortress of denial that can only fall if you hit her with some major shit. Like she’s obstinately, often unshakably happy. Even if she slips for a few seconds, even in the worst and weirdest situations, she’ll turn around and be a smiling, ball of sunshine after a few seconds to gather herself.

Of course she does have a history of abuse, and especially in verses like ours she’s going through a lot, so she isn’t on as firm a footing as normal, but Beck’s not easy to shake in general.

081. Is your character religious?

Not really? Which is strange because she’s nominally a priestess to her people. But it’s more of a cultural thing. Like, witches in and of themselves don’t worship gods per se, but they hold their traditions and myths and stories in an almost religious regard. It’s very strange, I have a couple of deeper headcanons on it, but to make it kind of simple: Beck isn’t at all what we would likely call “religious” in our society.

084. Describe your character in one word.

If I’m being serious? Asshole. If I’m being nice? Witch.

087. How would your character describe themself in three words?

“One Foxy Lady”

090. How bodily expressive is your character?

I’m… not super sure what this means. If it means is she like, an animated person to talk to then yes. Unless she’s specifically trying to stay calm and use that to influence the emotions of something else, Beck’s never still. She’s almost kind of dizzying to talk to not because she moves in any crazy, major way, but just because it never stops.

093. What is your character’s goal in life?

To be free.

096. How do they move and carry themselves? What energy do they project?

Beck’s energy is best described as “a lot.” She’s got a big presence and like I just mentioned, she’s very active and animated. She doesn’t walk around slumped over, shy, or ashamed of herself. Unless she’s specifically trying to like fade into a crowd, she’s generally someone who grabs the eye because she’s confident and active and engaging to deal with and it’s almost overbearing over long periods of time.

099. Do they talk to inanimate objects?

She’s got a weird concept of inanimate. Like, in her world there are spirits all over the place, and they have a varying degree of sentience depending on the spirits, their age, their type, and the population density. So she’ll compliment a waterfall on how lovely it’s looking today but a small part of her thinks that like the spirits in the area take note of that and enjoy it even if they’re only semi-sentient. She struggles with seeing how those things aren’t transferable to stuff like computers and cellphones. In cities where most of the natural, open spirits that interact with everything without their own ulterior motives have been driven out, there aren’t any “cell phone” or “computer” spirits, but she’s so in the habit of it that (generally when she’s frustrated she’ll forget) she’ll curse at them or ascribe motive to something an inanimate object is doing.

Harper once bought Beck an extremely expensive sports car, only to immediately sell it after Beck amassed 4 speeding tickets in a month and got her license suspended because, as Beck put it, “the car wanted to go fast.”

[myaekingheart]

just some random late night (ish) thoughts below the cut on personal style and being another year older, don’t mind me.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my personal style, and by extension my identity, and especially my age considering yesterday (May 13th) was my birthday. I’m now 22 and I feel kind of weird about it. I feel like I’ve kind of passed over this threshold and that I’m not in this one particular realm anymore. To be totally blunt about it, I feel kind of old. I don’t know, it’s weird like logically I know that 22 is still super young but in my fucked up head, it feels like I’m no longer this kid anymore. I’m not in the same category as, like, 18-21 year olds anymore. Maybe it’s just part of that cycle, like how when you’re in sixth grade you’re a big fish in a little pond and at the top of the food chain, then you enter middle school and you’re the fresh meat again, and the same for your freshman year of high school and later, I guess, college. There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever for me to feel this way and yet I do. Maybe it’s because I’m a sentimental whore, I don’t know. Over the past few year months, I have been noticing kind of a significant shift in myself, my style and my identity and whatnot. I’m emo as fuck, like old school 2008 emo, and I always had a penchant for being dark and spooky like it’d be really satisfying to make people uncomfortable just by the way I looked and to walk down a hallway with a death glare and want people to squirm, and I do still really like that but at the same time there’s also been something else creeping up. Something a lot more cheery and innocent, I don’t know. A bit of a taste for kawaii/lolita shit. All that pink frilly cutesy crap. Ideally, I have this perfect conglomerate of style in my head that’s this balanced mix of everything-- a little goth, a little emo, a little grunge, a little scene, a little kawaii/lolita, whatever-- but I also feel kind of conflicted. Is that too much to try and fit on one plate? Is this just a recipe for a trainwreck? I don’t fucking know. And then there’s the idea of confidence. Clearly this stuff isn’t really in style anymore, at least regarding the emo/scene shit. Nobody has that thick side fringe with the choppy teased layers anymore. I mean, obviously that’s not going to stop me from continuing to do it because I feel like this hairstyle is the most flattering on me and it makes me feel happy and confident. But that, coupled with everything else, poses a bit of an issue. This isn’t very widely socially accepted (nor has it ever really been, but especially now) and so it kind of requires a lot of confidence to pull off. I never had that confidence as a kid, when this was actually on trend, and that’s a big part of why I never had a middle school scene phase. That and the fact that I didn’t even really know myself thanks to peer pressure and feeling blank and boring and dizzy about myself. I’ve come SUCH a long way since then, though. I still am socially awkward as fuck but at least I can get done what I need to without any hesitation (like public transportation, being out and about in town on my own, confronting professors, etc.) The only thing that scares me now is that...I’m getting older. I can’t help but feel like there’s this invisible limit on being a certain way, or presenting yourself a certain way, after a certain age. I rejoice when I find another scene kid on instagram who is as old as if not older than myself because it feels like permission to continue doing this, as if I need it. And it sucks that I feel like I do. If I’m happy this way, if I’m actually finally experimenting with alternative styles and it makes me almost giddy with excitement, then why do I feel the need to put a cap on my happiness and restrain myself? All because of a fear of getting too old to be an emo/scene kid? That emo dad meme always pops into my head. I guess I just get so scared of one day reaching an age where I can’t pull this off anymore, where it’s either no longer socially tolerable or I can no longer pull it off or whatever. It’s kind of stressing me out, to be honest. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to outgrow this. I want to say like this for as long as I damn well please. If I reach an age where I decide I don’t want to be like this anymore, then that’s all well and good (though I don’t think I will, honestly-- I always like to laugh and say everyone had a scene phase but I’m the complete opposite and had a normal phase. I mean, I was shaking my ass to KISS and Joan Jett when I was four, and I desperately wanted to wear cargo pants and converse and tank tops with ties like Avril Lavigne because she was my fucking idol. AT FOUR) but I’m so damn happy and confident like this. Yeah, sometimes I feel a little anxious/embarrassed but that’s just because a part of me is still nervous about the reception rather than whether I myself am happy like this. And I am happy like this. I want to be that gorgeous alternative queen who has a septum ring and tattoos and wears fishnets and creepers and black lipstick but also frilly dresses and hair bows and teases their hair and shit. It’s like this ideal mix of my dark, angsty, badass bitch side that I’ve taken so long to cultivate but also this cutesy childhood nostalgia essence that I’m trying so hard to cling to because I miss those days and a part of me just desperately wants to be a kid again. That sounds so psychologically fucked up, but I mean...let’s be honest here, so much of what I do in terms of style hinges on nostalgia by now (sometimes I have so much regret for not fully pursuing that emo/scene phase ten years ago that it physically hurts inside my chest, and no matter what I do now I know it will never truly be the same ever again because it’s a long since past time and even if the emo/scene of 2009 does have a serious revival, it’s never going to be quite the same as the way it was back then and that hurts). I don’’t know, I guess a lot of this is just mindless rambling but it’s been on my mind a lot lately (for a few weeks if not months, really) and especially with my birthday now it’s just kind of escalated. And kind of side note but my boyfriend’s dead ex kind of plays into this a little bit, as well. I know I said I was over it, and I am, but that doesn’t mean there are parts of her existence that don’t still affect me. There was a time, back in high school, when I went alternative for all the wrong reasons. I started teasing my hair and wearing heavy black eye shadow and overusing the term “hang you from a telephone pole by your intestines” not because it made me happy so much as because I was depressed and desperate. Ex girlfriend was a scene queen and I was jealous. There was just something about her that riled up so much inside of me, more than just the “You have what I want” bullshit. Yes, part of this was because I desperately wanted to be with her boyfriend but more than that, I think I was jealous because she was everything I wanted to be. I think she kind of brought back this sort of desire from my childhood to be a certain way, and stirred up a lot of regret for never going through with it. For a long stretch of time, I was virtually nothing in terms of style and personality. I was just this blank, boring slate. There was nothing memorable or unique about me. I was a wallflower. I faded into the crowd. I didn’t make a mark on anyone or anything. But then I saw her and I instantly hated her because she wasn’t like that at all. She was like who I could’ve been if I had said fuck it and did whatever the hell I wanted without worrying about what other people would think or being popular or following the crowd/a friend who lost touch with what was really important. So I went full-on emo/scene out of spite not just for her but for myself. It was an act of self hatred. In those days, I felt simultaneously the most and least like myself that I ever had. I was dark and angsty and I fucking loved it, but at the same time it did come from a place of such seething self hatred and I knew that and so despite feeling satisfied with what I was doing to myself and the way people were beginning to finally take me seriously (kind of), I also felt like every time I looked in the mirror, I saw her. I associated everything about this style with her and it made me disgusted and delighted at the same time. It was like I was trying to erase everything that I was to become her but better, that was my ultimate end goal, and yet there was this complicated sense of satisfaction in erasing myself and yet also feeling like this was myself. It was so weird, and it’s so damn hard to put into words. All I know is that I hated myself and was doing this really out of such desperate self hatred. I think feeling like I belonged this way because this style made me happy made hate myself even more, because I couldn’t separate the “her” out of it. As if the hair and the makeup and the music were all trademarked by her and by pursuing it myself, I was committing some sort of copyright infringement and therefore was a disgusting criminal. I feel like none of this is making any sense, and it’s so damn hard to put it into words, but I continue on anyways. It too me so damn long to get out of this funk, to reclaim what I had found made me happy. I don’t think it helped that for so long, I felt like I had lost myself anyways compared to who I was as a kid, and I guess in a way finding comfort in this style in the way that I did felt like coming home to a place that didn’t belong to me anymore. I had no right to be there. I struggled for fucking years to break that past all that, though. It was so damn hard to come to terms with the fact that she does not own any of this, and that I am allowed to take pride in presenting myself the way I do and being happy about it and owning it rather than feeling like I am copying someone else and doing this out of self hatred. I think it was only a year or so ago that I kind of broke past that wall, and another six months later to really clean up the debris and accept what was happening. If I’m being honest, this all still feels so new to me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this “fuck-given-less” in my entire life, this carefree about what people think about the way I look/dress and all that good shit. But it’s taken me so long to get here, and now I just feel like there’s this ticking time bomb or this cloud of anxiety over my head. I have this irrational fear about death that makes no damn sense but I feel like my necrophobia has only gotten more and more intense over the past few months leading up to my birthday, and now I feel like I’m kind of in this haze or this twilight zone and that I’m running out of time. I was too late to find the confidence to “be myself” basically, and now I feel like my time to take advantage of it is already running so short. And the girlfriend comes back into this a bit, as well. I don’t like the feeling of all of this. I’m 22 now. I am the same age that she was when she died. There’s this strange sense of competition, almost as if I’m outrunning her in a sense. I keep thinking about how I’m the same age that she was when she passed away, and it’s this unnerving feeling of unity almost. I feel like Alice at the end of the movie when she’s running in slow motion through that smoke tunnel to get to the door, and she sees herself asleep under the tree through the keyhole, and she’s begging herself to wake up. I feel like that doesn’t make any sense, either. I don’t know, I guess basically I’m just still trying to find my comfort in all of this. Maybe a part of me still associates her with this style, and in doing so it almost feels like I’m setting myself up for failure. Like I’m writing my own history to follow in her footsteps. It’s already creepy enough to me that she died of a digestive disease, and I have a chronic digestive disorder (that I was already terrified enough of because a digestive disease is what also took my grandfather when I was sixteen, and I was there for the last few hours of his life all the way up until his body was carted away to the funeral home. I had nightmares for six months afterward, and that probably also really contributed to that self hatred spiral because things overlapped and I was just in a really bad fucking place, to be totally honest). I just almost have this feeling like I’m replaying history, though, and that the same fate that took her will befall me also. It’s so damn irrational but it’s there, looming over my head always. And if it doesn’t, then that means I’ve “outran” her in a sense. That if I do, in fact, make it to my 23rd birthday, then I’ll have lived longer than she did and therefore will have “won,” in a way. I don’t know, I’ve always felt competitive about her. Nothing like trying to beat a dead girl in a pointless game, right? None of this makes any damn sense, and I feel so fucking ridiculous, but I know I need to at least own what’s going on in my head and let it all out lest it build up like a tumor and kill me. I’ve gotta pop that pimple and let all the pus run out. That was disgusting, I’m so sorry. Not that there’s anyone to apologize to. I don’t know, there’s just been a lot going on in my head, and in my life really. My parents are moving in a week after a super abrupt decision to put their house up for sale that they only just announced, like, a month ago so my head is still really spinning from that. There’s also just college, and worries about my father’s dangerous job, and an online sexual harassment thing that’s taken months for me to kind of manage inside myself. I sound so goddamn problematic, honestly, jesus fuck. But whatever. I just needed to get all of this out, honestly. There’s just been so much damn shit going on in my head. At least the screamo helps cleanse the soul and mirrors what it feels like inside my body both mentally and physically bahahahaha

[infinitemelancholie]

April.23.2017

A couple of new developments in my life:

1. I can confidently state “Fuck everyone” because of the state I’m in and all that I went through and will probably continue to go through. I hate that I was sexually assaulted as child and that it’s after affects will probably be something I have to deal with now. I hate the people that lead me to believe that doing anything with men somehow made me less of a man, and just about anyone that has tried to force me into hyper masculine roles. Those people suck and fuck them. Fuck everyone who never lead me to believe it was possible to be bi. That really was unnecessary and uncalled for and just made being me even more difficult and I hate them for it. Fuck everyone that treats queer men as accessories or fetish or something because like the fuck is up with that? Fuck everyone that somehow thought it was cool that I was into one gender but if I wanted to know about the other or some other gender I’d have to talk to someone else. Because like how the fuck is that supposed to work and why the fuck do you think it’s ok to be supportive and helpful for something that doesn’t even fully encompass my sexuality? Fuck all straight women for being shitty towards gay and bi men. Like seriously? This is how you treat us? Fuck straight women that try to pretend I’m gay or something. Because that’s not how this works and you’re really a shiity person. Take down that rainbow facebook profile tint because you sure as shit aren’t an ally. Fuck anyone that’s aphobic on any level. Aces are literally the best thing to ever happen. The notion of now desiring sexual relations completely destroys current relationship discourses and makes being non monogamous much easier. And yeah I’m most definitely grey romantic so that’s a thing and I’m enjoying that because like I feel free at last to not have to worry about a number of issues I think. Fuck everyone that thinks being promiscuous makes you a misogynist or something because like honestly you can have millions of sex partners and yet still be completely respectful towards each and every one of them and treat them like they matter because they do matter to you and that’s how I’m basically living my life right now and honesty I gotta tell ya it’s the fucking tits. Like it’s actually a good thing for me and to me honestly. I feel like I’m able to express a kind of love to them without like having to form some kind of “committed” relationship with all the stalking, needless and endless insecurities and jealousy, restrictions  on who can be my friends, restrictions on sexual relations, restrictions on how I live my life, trying to reform or change me in any way shape or form, trying to dominate me in the sense of pulling shit like the silent treatment or threatening to end a relationship or any other toxic behavior that many monogamous esque people engage in. Honestly fuck anyone that’s normalized this toxic relationship monogamous culture we have. It’s only killing us. And fuck anyone who doesn’t let me have a say for my own needs or tries to make them into some kind of selfishness because it’s not. And fuck anyone that gets butthurt at being told no. If you can’t take no for an answer that’s definitely your problem and that’s definitely a sign I need to be as far away from you as I possibly can be. Fuck white people for being racist. Fuck my college professors for being fucking I don’t know cocky I guess is the word for it? Some of them come off as a little domineering or something along those lines and it’s weird. Also yeah I know I’m not doing all that great but like I have mental issues that aren’t entirely my fault so fuck off. 

2. This deserves its own space. Fuck misogyny and sexism. No seriously fuck that noise. Fuck the noise that made me super paranoid over talking to women or interacting with them on some level because of this irrational fear of like them being somehow unapproachable or whatever because of hotness rating on a 1 to 10 scale. Seriously the fuck’s up with that? Like “Oh I can’t talk to you because you’re out of my league”? Like fuck that bullshit. Its not healthy and honestly feeds this weird idea that women are somehow magically different and must be treat specially by men because they’re women. News flash they’re just people with literally the same problems as us but even worse if possible. Seriously women are without a doubt the must insecure people on the face of the earth. Oh and here’s some grade A dating advice: learn to be fluent in passive aggression. It’s every woman’s modus operandi no matter what. They’ll always try to do something to let you know but not really know what they want. Excessive giggling or laughter is probably a sign they’re into you. Mentions of what they like means “you better fucking take them there/do this for them at some point because they like this thing”. Like honestly women are probably the ones that make most of the decisions when it comes to these things. Men just follow along. Of course there’s those discrepancies where the man makes a decision and the woman goes along to keep him happy or something but still that does give power over to women because like it’s up to her keeping this dude happy when she doesn’t have to. Also this is helping me out a lot in unpacking my internalized biphobia because a) I’m realizing that I don’t need to sleep with massive amounts of women to reclaim my manhood b) sleeping with men is the literal tits and I fucking love it and it in no way impacts my gender etc c) I have no reason to feel that women have some weird sex power over me because like they’re just women. Literally there’s nothing special about them. They’re probably more afraid of me which I’m not ok with but kinda am because like I got nothing to fear on my part. Even if it doesn’t work out with one woman like it doesn’t matter. There are others for starters and also I’m fucking bisexual. Why should I obsess over the rejection of just one woman when there’s like other genders out there for me to be occupied or involved with. As far as I’m concerned a rejection is just a pass to continue being single and I’m honestly enjoying that. No giving up my shit to others. No having to cohabitate with someone. No having to shell out money for valentine’s day and stuff. None of that. I’m a free man and I can do with that what I want to do.

3. Sometimes I’m confused about my grey romanticism. There are people I meet that got me feeling some kind of way and I don’t know what to do about it. Like there’s this one girl I just met this quarter who seems like really cool and stuff but like I think I’m crushing on her or something. Maybe I’m just sexually into her? That seems more likely. I can live with that. I guess the question is trying to proceed from there in a way that won’t like make things weird for us. Maybe I should just be upfront about the whole grey romantic bisexual thing and be done with it. Fuck it here’s what I want. Yes I want to have sex with her all throughout campus or wherever because I think it’d be awesome and I think she’s got it going on. I’m not really into the prospects of being in a committed romantic relationship because that’s definitely not me but like a fwb or something would be dooooooooope. But like none of that feau fwb thing that people have. Like a queer platonic relationship kinda thing would be what I’d like. Yeah that’s what I want. A queer platonic relationship. A relationship where you’re not really a bf or gf but one where you’re more than friends still. You’re friends but like a different kind of friend. Not even a best friend. A friend where there’s intimacy and closeness but no real romantic connection present. A queer platonic relationship. That’s what I’ve been after this whole time. I’ve just settled on doing the whole romantic thing because like idk I guess it’s easier to do that or something. Like it’s easier to communicate that to potentials etc. Also this brings into mind this guy I met earlier this year who I swear I’ve developed a crush on but am now thinking it wasn’t quite a crush really. Perhaps that was what a squish is. Perhaps I’ve officially had my first squish without realizing it. Mmmm maybe not. Though it’s somewhere between the two I can at least admit that.

4. There’s a difference between doing what you want without worrying about what others think and being a deuche nozzle about it. Ie you can go about your life not really caring about others’ opinions but consequences do matter in some way or another. I haven’t fleshed out the details but a few examples

 -being involved in any way with someone in a workplace or even small college/college department/club/etc (partly why I’m a little off put by my feelings towards this girl and even guy) has consequences for both myself and them. If things go to shit like everyone will be up in our business about it. Like they’d know. Plus we’d have to see one another a lot and let’s be honesty PTSD me probably won’t be able to handle that well. Plus I’m sure it’d just make them hate me more. And we’d be sharing friends so group studying becomes awkward etc

I was going to say something about casual sex and feelings developed from that but like honestly I’m not the one responsible for making someone feel or think that I’m in love with them because of how we have sex together or how they feel about having sex with me. Although it’s pretty shitty when like the other person like wants to have sex with you but like becomes weird about it afterwards for lord knows what reason. Anyways moral of the story it’s not my problem nor is it my job and I’m ok with that