#I am both proud of. myself and horrified

[hyacinthusmemorial]

I am really excited guys. I finished writing Forgotten Age, and it’s so intense, but the ending makes everything better, I promise. My heart wants to release it all to you at once, but my brain knows I should give it a little spoonful at a time so I can write the sequel. Anyway, I have made this post to give you a little teaser for Friday when I release Chapter 17: A Manifestation; An Infestation.

Teaser Below:

She beat her fist slowly on the ground, and taking labored breaths, she stood. Apollo kept her arm tight around her upper abdomen and blinked her bleary vision, trying to see where she was going. When she realized that it was not going to clear, she closed her eyes instead and stumbled forward with muscle memory, opening them occasionally to see vague shapes with which to guide her way.

She blinked them open to see the garden and home of Leto, and she saw the blurred image of a person standing.

She smelled her before anything else—a sore familiarity that burned her nose more than the bile ever could. Melissai liniment, herbs, and the sweet smell of palm dates. The tight embrace of arms, the kiss on her cheek, the whispered sound of weeping, and the salty taste of tears; those were all secondary to the smell of her Mama, a scent she had long buried in the past.

Moisture flooded Apollo’s eyes intensely, and she clutched at her.

But, Apollo’s legs gave out from exhaustion, and Leto caught her, pulling her into her arms. She carried her like a small child, and Apollo realized she was tiny like one—her female form was short, thin—too thin. 

“What have they done to you?” Leto whispered, grasping her head and laying it on her shoulder as she brought her into the home.

[charlotte-of-wales]

A speech by The Duchess of Edinburgh at the Community Sport and Recreation Awards, at Headingley Stadium, Leeds, ahead of The Duke of Edinburgh’s 60th birthday:

First may I say how wonderful it is to be here with so many people who are doing so much to change lives through grassroots sport. There have been some remarkable stories that have been honoured today and a particular congratulations to Fulham Reach Boat Club for being recognised as Community Club of the Year.

If I may, I beg your indulgence for a few minutes, as I wanted to also take this opportunity to recognise another great milestone and share a small tribute to my darling husband as he celebrates his 60th Birthday, this Sunday.

Now I know from the many years of marriage we have chalked up, 25 years in June to be precise, he will be horrified at seeing me up here speaking about him in public. Without looking at him, I am guessing he will now be sitting back with slightly narrowed eyes, possibly with his arms folded, or one arm stretched out across the table and to all intents and purposes looking identical to his father when I made speeches about him.

I twice spoke about The late Duke of Edinburgh in his presence, on both occasions feeling like I was about to launch myself out of an airplane without a parachute, but holding on to the vague hope of a soft landing. You have to appreciate that my father-in-law never liked anyone to pay him compliments, believing that it was the organisations he supported that were important, not him.

However, the fact that I wasn't in the doghouse after either of the speeches reassured me that I hadn't at least committed any major faux pas and I was therefore able to stand the getaway cars down.

So, like then and with my husband of the same opinion as my father-in-law, and with fresh fully fuelled cars at the ready here goes – as I give you more of an insight of the man to whom I am so proud to be married.

Edward is probably best known for his support of the youth organisation the DofE, founded by his father which takes much of his time as he chairs committees, writes strategies as he helps to guide and shape the current activities and future of the charity in the UK and across the world. He challenges those who lead it, encourages others who work within it or support it, and loves meeting and chatting with those who benefit from it. You can only guess the number of hours he devotes to this, the most inspiring of youth charities.

Beyond the DofE, he passionately supports an array of other charities and organisations, each of which he takes as seriously. Whether it be focussing on the sporting endeavours from athletes around the Commonwealth both able and disabled; encouraging organisations offering opportunities for people to gain access to sport and activities such as the fantastic work of the Sport and Recreation Alliance, which we are celebrating today; working throughout the arts with young talented musicians, or seasoned professionals who enrich our society, or visiting and encouraging the wonderful Central Caribbean Marine Institute which does so much to protect and enhance our unseen and vital underwater world. The list is long and a reflection of just some of his interests.

I encourage you to take a walk through his CV of affiliations and marvel at the breadth of them, each doing their part to make our world a better place and to understand that he is not just a name on a piece of paper, but that he commits of himself to them all and cares deeply for each of them.

He takes undoubted pride in his military affiliations too. Not only do I think that he wears a uniform extremely well, he takes an enormous interest in their vital work and loves nothing better than to go offline and spend happy hours talking one-to-one with those who do so much to serve our country.

He has been my guide and shown me the way over the years. He has given me much help and advice (not always taken I admit), and his knowledge and instincts that have been honed over decades of service are invaluable - so we share speech notes (not this one, sorry darling!), chat through issues our patronages may be tackling, and together I think we make quite a good team.

Like an iceberg, what is seen above the water or in public is only a small proportion of what goes on behind the scenes. What is never seen or can ever be quantified is the effort spent on ensuring good governance for his patronages, encouraging people to support worthwhile causes, chairing committees, meeting chief executives and think tanks, writing papers, speeches, forewords, introductions, the list goes on.

But whatever he is doing he gives 150% of himself, and if all else fails he gives any energy he has left out to our exhausted dogs or laying waste to the garden. Like my father-in-law, my husband never seeks compliments for himself. So when acknowledgment has come his way it has always been a total surprise to him, which is why I am grateful for this chance to, for once, be able to publicly celebrate and compliment him.

He was so happy and humbled when Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth made him a Knight of The Garter in 2006 and was equally delighted and moved the day His Majesty The King – who we are both incredibly proud to support – made him Duke of Edinburgh. Both he deserves in equal measure and I am so proud of the man he is.

He is the best of fathers, the most loving of husbands and still is my best friend.

So here's to you my darling Edward and may I along with all your family and so many friends and many others wish you the Happiest of Birthdays!

[humanpurposes]

I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 1

Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.

Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort

A/n: Surprise!! It's the Florismond fic no one asked for :) Planning on this being a 3 part mini series.

“A terrible coincidence,” my husband says.

Head bowed, he kneels before me where I sit on the end of our bed. Thunder and lightning rage beyond the windows but he has brought the storm inside with him. The rainwater that has drenched his hair and his riding leathers soak through my nightgown. I keep my jaw tight and my teeth pressed together to stop myself from shivering.

He has discarded his gloves to hold my hands in his, leaving a trail of kisses and tears on my skin. He circles the pad of his thumb over my fingertips, over the callouses left by my years of devotion to the harp. His hands are calloused too, from his sword, from the reins on Vhagar’s saddle.

He lifts his chin to look at me. I scarcely recognise him. My husband is a proud young man, always poised, never loud, often cold and stoic, gentle around the right people, his mother, his sister, me.

His single eye is glistening and glassy, the blue of his iris vibrant despite his distress. His breaths are laboured, his lips parted. I see nothing but hopelessness in him, but even like this, I wonder if the gods will ever manage to create a person quite so beautiful as Aemond Targaryen.

I slip a hand out of his grasp and, as gently as I can, pull on the eyepatch that covers the left side of his face. He lets me do it, as he has done many times before. A burst of lighting catches in the uneven edges of his sapphire eye. The twisted flesh that frames it is red, I wonder if it is hurting him.

I asked him once, why he was so reluctant to display this part of himself, why he wanted to hide it from me when we were first married.

His reply was always that he did not wish to frighten me.

What reason would I have to fear a scar? I’ve seen plenty of blood in my life, hunts, tourneys, accidents in the training yard. I see my own blood every moon. How could I fear my own husband?

He’s stuttering, sobbing, choking on his words. “I didn’t– I– I tried to stop her– but I was so– I just wanted him to…”

Heat rises behind my eyes. My skin is cold, my limbs frozen, but the shock is starting to wear off. I cannot listen to any more or I will surely break. 

I hush him, curling my whole body over his head. If he sees my face he will think I fear him, he will think I am horrified by him. I run a hand over his damp hair and he rests his face against the swell of my stomach.

Before he left, only a matter of days ago, after he had kissed my lips sore and stolen all the air from my lungs, he had come down to his knees to kiss my belly. By Maester Orwlye’s estimation, I only have a month left of my term. By tradition, I should be in confinement, but Aemond had ordered against it. He could not bear the thought of being apart from me, and I him. He has his own books and correspondences with Maesters across the continent. In Dorne, expectant mothers are encouraged to exercise as much as they can, to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on their skin. This would be best for our child, Aemond decided, rather than keeping me a dark bedchamber with only midwives and septas for company. 

Queen Alicent had said from the start that Aemond would make for a devoted husband, that he has always been a man of duty.

An awful sense of dread runs through my blood.

I should be glad that he has returned to me, and I am, I am .

“I wanted the boy to fear me. I did not imagine that I might…”

What can I say to him? What can I do to ease his suffering when I cannot stand the feeling of his body so close to mine? 

I am bound to him, through vows, through witnesses. I have given him my body and he has given me his. I carry his blood in my womb, my child as much as it is his. Most irreversibly of all, my heart is twined with his. I love him, and yet...

When he places a palm against my stomach, over the space where our babe grows, all I can think is that this is the hand of a kinslayer. Whatever fate the gods have for him now is my fate also. If he has cursed himself, then I too am cursed.

Full chapter on AO3

Tags (commented to be added)

Series taglist:

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @jamespotterismydaddy @tsujifreya @blackswxnn

[something-tofightfor]

A PSA:

This wasn’t a post that I ever thought I’d make on here, but it’s something that I’m choosing to do because I want to be transparent about it - and about myself. 

It was brought to my attention that there are people that used the information they knew about me gained through a private space to seek out my twitter account. They then used the discovery of my twitter to search for a slew of very specific words and phrases in order to drag up things that I may or may not have said throughout the years in order to use what they found against me and to paint me as a variety of things that I am not. Unfortunately, there were tweets that they did find. I’m not proud of the way I spoke and behaved online in my early 20’s. I said hurtful things, and portrayed myself - via these words - as something that I am completely ashamed of now. Of course, looking back, it’s easy to say “I definitely shouldn’t have said these things” - but that’s the truth. I shouldn’t have, and I regret that these things exist under my name, even if only via screenshot in present day.

I’m including some of the examples beneath the cut, because I don’t want to trigger anyone without their consent. But in the spirit of being open about the things I said in the past, I think it’s important to admit to them as an example of the way people can and do change their behaviors over time - and in recognition that these tweets do not reflect me as a person - or my feelings and opinions - any longer. (TW: the following images contain text that includes instances of racism and homophobia).

These tweets as well as others in the same vein I have been able to find have been deleted from my profile - which should have been done sooner - because they are horrifying to me as I look back on them. In reality, they never should have been tweeted in the first place. Many of them, I don’t remember tweeting, but that doesn’t excuse my past behavior - or negate the fact that they were up in the first place. These are not a reflection of me, today, as a person, and if I met younger Rachael, I would call her out on her shit immediately.

But as you can see, the dates show you that the majority are from well over decade ago - and in the time since, I’ve reevaluated a ton of things including the way that I speak, the things that I say, and the phrasing that I choose to use. Using terms like “gay” or “lesbian” in the manner that I used to is unacceptable. Bringing up race or ethnicity as a generalization for a group is also unacceptable. I have no ill will toward people based on their sexual orientation, race, gender etc.

I will also say that - because it is public information - I am a registered Republican voter (as I was encouraged to sign up that way when I turned 18) and have voted for occasional Republican candidates in recent local elections, but have not voted for a Republican presidential candidate since Mitt Romney in 2012. Many of my family members are Republicans as well, and before I really had a chance to be out on my own after college, I unfortnately echoed a lot of their sentiments about R vs D when it came to politics in my late teens and early 20's. I had a lot of issues with Obama's presidency, but NONE of them were based on his skin color. That tweet above absolutely fills me with shame even 13 years later, and I can't put into words how uncomfortable it makes me to know that at some point, I actually typed those words out and then POSTED them, because present-day me cannot reconcile with feeling that way and expressing that type of sentiment.

There is certain context, also, to the 'thanks for not being gay' tweets that wasn't shared - and while it doesn't excuse them, the phrase was used between the friend whose name is blocked and I due to the exact thing being said to HER by a coworker, and both of us thinking it was an absurd thing to thank someone for. And Spangler Park was a running joke in the city that I used to live in, due to the fact that the weekly police blotter was filled with reports of gay men using it as a meeting place for public sexual acts.

Trying to explain myself isn't a valid defense to much of the content here, but it's also important to remember that context matters in many cases - like with the Daniel Tosh (who is a comedian) reply, that was clearly in response to something he said on his own account, but what that was is unknown to me 13 years later since it wasn't a quote tweet.

I am constantly trying to hold myself just as accountable as I hold others in my life for the things they say, do, and believe. I would not tweet or say any of these things today. I do not believe any of these things today. I have grown and learned a lot in the last decade plus, and I hope that that is reflected in my current behavior and with the people and causes I support. I am not the same person at 37 that I was at 22-23 - very few people are.

I will end this with a sincere apology to anyone that I may have hurt with these messages and my behavior - both now and in the past. I regret saying these things. I regret the fact that for a period of time, I "spoke" with very little thought about the impact of my words, or how wrong these things were to say. I have tried to - and hopefully accomplished - make changes in my life throughout the years, and continue to do so every day. 

It's impossible to make meaningful changes overnight, but I hope that you believe me when I say that over the course of the last decade, I have changed a great deal about myself and my behavior, and work hard to keep learning as the world around me changes, too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. My inbox and DMs are open for questions and conversation, if you have anything to say. If this is where you choose to part ways with me, I wholeheartedly understand that, too, and wish you the best. An additional reply to an ask I received

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (106-110)

Quick return to summaries, for: in which two dorks get married.

106 - Jitters

“It’s stressing me out,” Jared says. “Like, obviously I love Bryce, I wouldn’t be marrying him if I didn’t, but like, figuring out how to say it and not like, embarrassing myself in front of everyone? I dunno. It’s hard.”

“You are your father’s son,” his mom says, and Jared can’t even argue that. His dad’s fucking awful at this kind of stuff, so Jared inherited it honestly, he guesses. Like, it’s so really clear his dad thinks his mom’s the shit? Jared’s over being embarrassed by his parents being happy in their relationship. But his dad kind of sucks at the expressing good emotions bit, to the point where him saying something really nice is the kind of thing that sticks with you for a long time because of how rare it is, but at the same time, Jared’s never doubted his dad loves him, and Erin, and his mom.

Jared is SO MUCH his father’s son, in a way he generally refuses to acknowledge, and yes, they’re both straight up awful at expressing their feelings, but no one doubts Jared loves Bryce after any time spent around the two of them. Ditto Don with Susan. (It horrified Jared and Erin as kids, how gross in love their dad was. Marcus Mathesons will be able to relate.)

“You’re not going to be a troll with your grandkids, are you?” Jared says, doubling down on the making her feel old since she can’t make him set the table twice.

“Oh no,” his mom says. “I’ll treat them like gold and spoil them rotten until they doubt every story you tell about me being a troll.”

Rude.

“Oh god,” she mutters. “I’m my mother.”

“Grandma’s a saint,” Jared says.

“Well,” she says. “At least I know firsthand that the strategy works. Table.”

She is going to do it and it is going to WORK and none of the M&Ms will doubt their grandmas are saints, no matter how much Jared insists only Elaine is actually a saint.

With a week to go Jared realises he totally forgot to ask Arvan for time off, and he only realises when he hears Raf ask Arvan for time off, that time off being, oh, Jared’s wedding.

“Um, me too!” Jared says. “And Chaz. We kind of need to all take that off.”

Raf gives him an utterly disgusted look

Raf will tell this story for YEARS, along with Bryce and Jared meeting. So many unflattering stories about Jared that Raf was forced to witness.

“It’s cool if you’re — you know it’s normal, right? To have — doubts.” “Cool, but I don’t have any,” Jared says. “…do you have cold feet?”

Bryce makes a very dismissive noise.

Please, Bryce has been ready for years at this point.

Him and Julius go over to his parents for his last dinner as like, an unmarried man — weird — and Jared’s half waiting all dinner for his dad to like, grab his shoulder and go ‘if you’ve changed your mind…’ or something, but he doesn’t. Best behaviour. Mom probably threatened him.

Honestly proud of Don for not doing that. (Susan definitely threatened him)

How’s the lake house?”

“It’s huge,” Bryce says. “You’re going to be so annoyed.”

I love that Bryce’s first thought about the place is ‘wow, this is so nice — that’s going to piss Jared off’, and he’s RIGHT.

107 - Preparation

“Nervous?” Julius asks him over breakfast.

“My feet are toasty warm,” Jared says, and after a very confused look from Julius, breakfast is briefly derailed to explain the concept of cold feet and no, Jared doesn’t know why it’s called cold feet, and then they’re looking up the etymology and Julius is making disgusted noises because it’s just based on some dude writing the words and it sticking, no actual clarification as to why

Nope, no proper origin to this idiom either. Enraging. I am Julius in this matter.

His dad insists on driving, saying it’s because Jared will be distracted, but actually because he’s a control freak who can’t handle not driving himself. Jared doesn’t fight it — he doesn’t know the area around the lake house at all, and if they get lost his dad will be unnervingly backseat stressed about it — but the fact that Julius gets dibs on the front seat, because ‘he’s a guest’, in Jared’s car, on Jared’s wedding day?

Jared sulks in the backseat, bags stacked between him and Erin like a barricade.

Shades of the blanket already. The brother Jared never had.

Elaine meets them outside, steering them towards the main house — apparently Bryce is getting ready in the bunk house, and Jared is very tempted to like, cut and run in that direction. It’s dumb. He’ll see him in three hours. He’s still considering it. “Don’t even think about it,” Elaine says cheerfully, apparently wise to Jared.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Jared protests.

“Bryce made that exact face when we heard your car pull in,” Elaine says. “Gail and my mom have him covered, and Gordie’s been instructed to stop you at the door by any means necessary.”

Do not mistake Elaine’s kindness for weakness.

“Wait, are there bigger rooms than this?” Jared asks. Because if so, this place is insane: this room’s the size of their living room and dining room combined. Maybe Bryce was right that Jared would be annoyed by how big it is — stupid thing to be annoyed by, considering how many people need to stay over, but there’s big and then there’s obnoxiously big.

It is nice and Jared is annoyed, just as Bryce predicted.

How’re you feeling? Jared texts.

pretty great get to marry the love of my life today, Bryce says

Bryce.

“Yeah, me too,” Erin says. “But it’s a pretty dress, so.”

Cue another twirl.

With a dress that swishy, you gotta twirl -- Erin is only doing what is necessary.

“Honey,” she says. “There’s going to be crying today. You’re probably going to cry today.”

He refuses.

“Bryce has already cried at least three times already,” Elaine says. Oh god. Every time Bryce cries Jared wants to cry. This is going to be a disaster.

Jared often stubbornly believes things despite evidence to the contrary, but I continue to have no idea how he thought he would get through his wedding day without crying.

There are going to be many matching PJs in his life, won’t there? He can’t even bring himself to mind.

It’s gonna get REAL cute with three generations in the same pjs.

“Wait, you gave Erin the rings?” Jared asks. “Why does Erin have our rings?”

“Because I’m maid of honour,” Erin says, with a little eyeroll like ‘duh’. “I’m standing up there with you, so I get the rings.”

“Do not do something to them,” Jared says. “Don’t — pretend you’ve lost them, or drop them, or—”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Erin says, sounding almost hurt.

Jared does not believe her.

“I wouldn’t do that to Bryce,” Erin adds.

Bryce is the brother ERIN never had. Because her brother is much worse than Bryce.

“When have you even tied bow ties?” Jared asks.

“Haven’t since my own wedding, but I looked it up on YouTube just in case you needed the help,” his dad says. “Now quit talking, I’m focusing.”

“Okay,” Jared says, and it looks pretty good after the third time his dad subjects him to a ‘wait, fuck, I’m trying again’.

“Don’t tell your mom I fixed your bow tie,” his dad says. “She looked it up on YouTube too, and she even bought one to practice with, she’ll be annoyed with herself.”

This right here encapsulates the Mathesons. A lot of snark and plenty of faults, but these hobgoblins love one another a lot. (Also randomly sneaky about their kindness because can't be obvious about their loving acts, how embarrassing.)

His mom wipes his eyes for him. “I did a really good job on that bow tie,” she says, sounding pleased.

“A great job,” Jared says, and bites down a smile when his dad gives him a thumbs up behind her back.

<3 Mathesons.

108 - Impaired Judgment (and other excuses for falling in love)

I’ve said it before, but this was the original title of the series, shortened for a few reasons (mostly brevity), and it felt right to use it for this part.

“Your dad spent the entire morning of our wedding day convinced I wasn’t going to show up,” his mom says. “You’re doing fine.”

“I didn’t really think that,” his dad mutters. “It was just a possibility.” If Jared was marrying literally anyone else, that’d probably bring the freak out to a new height, except it’s Bryce, so it doesn’t.

Seriously, can you imagine Bryce not following through with it? I can’t. Jared can’t. Dude’s cried with joy three times today in the presence of his mom alone. Nothing could get him to miss this.

Chaz does this goofy salute at him when Jared glances over the crowd of people ready to witness the inevitable mortification, and Jared smiles back weakly.

The person unironically referring to his time at the altar as ‘inevitable mortification’ does not get to call other people goofy.

“I’m not hugging you,” Erin says, when his dad finally lets go.

“Didn’t ask you to,” Jared says, which apparently is the permission Erin needs to hug him.

It’s like he doesn’t know her at all. Of course that’s the permission. Also: every time Erin and Jared hug my grinchy heart grows two sizes.

Jared looks over, sees Elaine and Bryce coming out of the back door of the bunk house, their hair glinting gold in the summer light and Bryce’s tux tailored perfectly, some full on James Bond suave shit going on, and Jared just — he gets to marry him.

We have TWO soppy ass dudes in this relationship, I don’t care what Jared says.

Who would dare pointed cough at him in the middle of his wedding? It’s probably a Matheson. Or Julius. Jared bets it was fucking Julius.

Chaz had a ticklish throat, sorry for LIVING.

Who let Jared open his mouth, holy shit. Someone stop him.

An excellent summary of Jared’s vows and also Jared’s life.

“I was such an angry person when I met you,” Bryce says. “Angry, and unhappy, and not — I didn’t want to be who I was. I didn’t like me. I didn’t like pretty much anyone. But god I liked you. And I wanted you to like me back so bad. And somehow you did, even though I wasn’t someone who even close to deserved you. And my biggest goal since I met you has been to become someone who does. And I don’t think I’m there yet, and I don’t know if I ever will be, but I promise you that’s going to continue to be something I strive towards every single day for the rest of my life.”

Bryce Marcus in his feelings is my number one kryptonite, and it got me good again.

He shakes his head, because he knows Bryce worked on it. Draft after draft, probably, trying to articulate his feelings for Jared, managing to land on the most devastating words possible, because he’s devastating in the best way possible.

Jared inhales, exhales, tries to get his breathing under control. Bryce waits for him to try to put himself together, and if Jared hadn’t been sure he wanted to marry him before this — and obviously he was pretty fucking sure — that would have done it, all by itself.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.

109 - Wedded Bliss

“Have a great season, guys,” she says, and Jared’s all panicky, suddenly, wondering if she’s a fan, which team she’s a fan of, before realising like — maybe she is a fan, maybe she isn’t, no way to know. If he was her, signing a non-disclosure agreement, he’d be immediately looking up the names if he didn’t recognise them, wondering what made an NDA necessary in the first place. And even if she is a fan, she’s not going to snitch; like, she signed a binding contract that would open her up to being sued for everything she’s worth, and also she’d probably lose her marriage licence…thing or whatever.

Besides, no Flames fan would be able to tell an Oiler to have a great season with a straight face.

Jared going through all the possibilities before stating the obvious.

(This reminds me of a fun fact I learned recently: in a map showing most hated teams by state and province, Alberta’s most hated team? The Calgary Flames. Meanwhile the Boston Bruins has all of Eastern Canada and two of three territories, for the largest geographical spread, good work dudes.)

“No one’s going to look at a picture of you standing alone in a tux and say, ‘hey, he must have been getting married to a man who plays for his rival team’,” his mom says dryly, which — fair point.

I mean…

“Bear, come here for a sec? I need a favour,” Elaine says, and Bryce immediately stops mid-conversation with Chaz and Ash and trots over, like the momma’s boy he is. Ridiculous.

Jared blinks when Elaine’s phone goes off. “Much better,” she says. “Thanks, honey.”

“I didn’t —” Bryce says, sounding confused, and Jared shrugs at him.

Elaine knows all the tricks. Jared’s smile went from strained to soppy watching that jog.

But, then, fuck it. He doesn’t need excuses. They’re literally all at his and Bryce’s wedding, who’s going to complain about a little kissing?

“Hey,” Bryce says, wrapping an arm around him when he comes over, mouth surprised against Jared’s when he kisses him, but only for a second before he’s kissing back.

“Okay, no,” Erin says. “Stop.”

Erin. Erin will complain about a little kissing. (They're so happy they get to kiss in front of PEOPLE. While OUTSIDE. Downright giddy.)

Also, Jared is pretty sure at a normal wedding, him and Bryce would get first crack at the food, but nope, he’s got to wait in line like everyone else even though he’s starving. Julius won’t let Jared butt in front of him, all ‘just because you’re married now doesn’t make you special’. Julius is the fucking worst. Jared can’t believe he even invited him.

I’ve said it before, but: truly the friend Jared deserves.

“So Jared’s like ‘I’ve never hated someone more in my life’ and ‘what a stupid flashy car Bryce Marcus has, don’t you hate Bryce too, Raf, I hate him so much that I can’t stop talking about him’ and ‘how dare Bryce Marcus say a single word to me, doesn’t he realise how much I loathe him, that handsome bane of my existence’, and he’s blushing bright red every time Bryce walks within ten feet of us, and—”

IJ(aoe), Act I: a summary.

“You didn’t bring lube?” Bryce says.

“No?” Jared says.

“You forgot lube?” Bryce hisses.

From comedy to tragedy.

Jared has to get up to hit the lights — they played rock-paper-scissors for it and Bryce lost but then he looked so dejected Jared got up anyway

True love right there.

“Thanks for marrying me,” Bryce murmurs.

There are so, so many sarcastic responses on Jared’s tongue. So many. And Jared’s sure that Bryce is expecting one, wouldn’t mind, would probably even laugh. But like. He doesn’t want to say any of them. And if there’s any time he can be like, unselfconsciously sappy, he thinks his wedding night probably qualifies.

“It was my privilege,” Jared says, cheeks heating anyway, because apparently nope, there is no time that he can be unselfconsciously sappy up to and including his wedding night, but the smile on Bryce’s face, small and sweet and almost shy, the way it lingers when Jared kisses him, well, it’s worth any embarrassment Jared feels.

They’re so gross, I love them.

110 - Refuge

And they order Thai from their usual place, but Jared doesn’t know if the orders got swapped or someone was new or not paying attention or what, because his usual order is his usual order, except there’s shrimp instead of chicken in his noodles and he can smell shellfish the second he opens his soup, and Bryce is ridiculous when he calls them back, all ‘how can you not see ‘shellfish allergy’ in the notes’ and ‘do you want to kill him?’, like Jared would actually die and not just be moderately to severely uncomfortable if he ate it, which he hadn’t.

Jared is right on the verge of telling Bryce how ridiculous he is when he remembers his dad’s pre-wedding advice, and he bites his tongue and lets Bryce take care of it, even if Bryce’s version of taking care of it is a total overreaction.

Bryce is PROTECTING HIS MAN. And look at Jared listening to his dad’s advice.

There’s a tiny part of Jared that’s faintly appalled he hasn’t left the house for days, hasn’t put on a shirt in just as long — Bryce has offered to be the one to get dressed every time they order food

Bryce transparently wanting to be the provider. Also not wanting Jared to put any clothes on.

“So hey,” Bryce says. He’s trying to make it sound casual, but it doesn’t, and Jared squints up at him suspiciously.

"I want us to keep wearing our wedding rings,” Bryce says.

Bryce being the initiatior of the first step of many that leads to their eventual outing. (I mean, the wedding would also count, but these rings get scrutinized at the time and then down the line).

“You’re worth like, everything,” Bryce says. “You know that, right?” Jared presses his face tighter against Bryce’s shirt, Bryce’s thumb tracing the heated shell of his ear.

Oh kids.

“So you’re okay with it?” Bryce says.

“If you stop saying nice things to me for like, at least an hour,” Jared says. “Then okay.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bryce says solemnly.

“Okay,” Jared says.

“I love you,” Bryce says.

“Bryce!” Jared says.

“That’s not a nice thing, that’s just like, a fact,” Bryce says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jared says, then commences to pull Bryce’s shirt up and stick his head under it, because the only way Jared can maintain the absolute fiction that he’s not blushing is to hide his face.

Jared would protest vociferously, but: he is adorable.

Bryce sacks out early that night, exhausted from his day of lounging around the couch and like, complimenting Jared too much. Jared’s half tempted to poke him awake to just like, not have the honeymoon end yet, but that’s mean. He looks so peaceful, Jared can’t do that to him.

Jared’s a place Bryce can rest, and he takes that role seriously.

[cleolinda]

Okay, I've just posted (here) the story I kept talking about, wherein I only realized as an adult that I had lived in a haunted house and my sister was horrified to realize she hadn't just been imagining it on her own; that's the (true) story I opened my Patreon with on Sunday. I'm gonna let people read that first post (if they would like) and not totally take over people's dashboards, and post Part Two in an hour or so.

(I am not used to going around to like four different platforms and saying I WROTE SOMETHING AND IT ACTUALLY HAS A TITLE and I have a horrible sense of Promoting Myself, God Forbid, but I also believe that we, you and I both, should all talk about things we're proud of doing more often.)

The second part is partly an interview with my sister, where we sat down and hashed out the differences between what we remember. I say up front in this story: I'm not asking you to believe what I'm telling you. I just know that she and I independently "felt" these things, and what those things were is up to you.

[coopigeoncoo]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Thank you for the tag, @andypantsx3! I am both delighted and horrified to have my work regarded in a positive fashion because apparently my emotions are just like reaching blindly into a bag of trail mix; you get what you get.

But as my homeboy Socrates said, 'The unexamined life is not worth living', so it's probably beneficial for me to slow down and do some reflection on my work as a writer and appreciate the journey of growth I've been on.

So, in no particular order, here are 5 stories I've written and why I'm proud of them.

The Cardinal Rule (Hawks x Gender Neutral Reader)

A story where Hawks learns that while humans might be awed by his flying skills, the bird population is decidedly less impressed. --- "The birds are refusing to work until their demands are met," you explained, trying to subtly slide your body between Hawks and the birds who were quite literally calling for bloodshed. "Which are?" Hawks asked as he lifted the bottle of water to his mouth and took a long sip. "They, ah, want you held accountable for your numerous bird crimes." Hawks abruptly choked, water spurting from the corner of his lips as he attempted to swallow the remaining liquid as he sputtered helplessly. "My what?" He coughed, thumping solidly on his chest with a closed fist.

This one started with a late night passing thought: 'What if birds hated Hawks?' and it spiraled out of control for there. I entered into some sort of fugue state and wrote and edited the entire thing in like, three days (which is very likely a person record for me). But everything just clicked together so easily on this one- my scenes flowed well, my jokes seemed to set themselves up, and I honestly had an absolute blast writing this. This is likely the story I reread the most because I have so much fun coming back to it.

2) An Itch to Scratch (Creature!Kirishima x AFAB Reader)

Kirishima Eijiro is everything you never thought you'd find when you packed up your car and moved to a dilapidated fishing town.  He was handsome, funny, and kind; the sort of man who took your breath away.   And that might actually be a bit of a problem. --- "Good girl ," Eijiro praised, his hands like a vice on your hips as he pulled away from your mouth with a satisfied grin.  You returned his smile with one of your own; the vibrant joy that had churned in your belly unfurled throughout your body, leaving you feeling breathless and lightheaded.   "Eiji," you gasped, eyes widening in panic as your lungs seemed to seize in your chest.  "I- can't breathe!"

I knew going in that if I was going to write a Mermay story I would want to write one that subverted expectations and common tropes. I removed the story from the typical tropical setting and plopped the Reader down into an dilapidated New England-ish fishing town, and threw in an additional surprise plot twist that I'm incredibly proud of.

I focused a lot on the world building here; on making the town and the people in it feel real and fleshed out. I really wanted to make the Reader feel connected to the situation they were dropped into and feel like I managed to do that successfully and even fell in love with the aging fishing town a bit myself.

3) Hot Dish (Shigaraki x AFAB Reader)

Down on his luck and scrambling for survival, Shigaraki Tomura was just looking for a place to score a hot meal. Instead, he ended up scoring a hot date. --- "You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Tomura glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing. "Whatever." "Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk." --- A slow, domestic romance between a volunteer at a soup kitchen and the newly destitute leader of a notorious villain organization.

Hot Dish is most popular story by far, which was honestly very surprising for me! I didn't realize how big Shigaraki's fan base was heading in because I wrote this for a server gift exchange and hadn't really read too many LOV centric stories. But I really enjoyed the challenge of trying to craft a soft romance for such a difficult character and think I managed to write a believable scenario where Shigaraki would be receptive to romance.

4) A Persistent Lack of Follow Through (Shouto x AFAB Reader)

Shouto had learned a lot from his Father; how to take a hit, how to pull himself back up, and how to hold a grudge. But one thing Endeavor could never teach his children was how to be a good partner. Shouto had to learn that particular skill the hard way. --- He had spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left. Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached: "I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table. --- A story where Shouto loves, loses, and learns.

I'm very much a happy ending sort of person, so it was a real challenge crafting a story around the prompt of 'heartbreak'. Hearts, obviously, needed to get broken; but then I wanted to try and write a believable healing journey would look like for two people in a shattered relationship. It was equal parts satisfying and frustrating building the same relationship up twice, but ultimately I feel like the relationship I depicted is stronger because of that struggle.

It was also my first time writing Todoroki Family shenanigans, which is honestly now one of my all time favorite things to do.

5) The 3-Cs of 3-A (eventual Bakugou x AFAB Reader)

This one links to Ao3 because I'm still in the process of crossposting it to Tumblr.

Mineta Minoru is a perverted misogynist whose antics should have had him expelled from UA long ago. But he wasn’t. And now it’s your job to fix him. May God have mercy on your soul. --- “Well then, I’ll leave myself in your capable hands,” Mineta purred before popping open the top two buttons on his shirt, sending you a coy look from under his lashes. “Mold me into the perfect hero, Pygmalion!  Make me your Galatea!” he screamed as he ripped open his shirt, buttons flying haphazardly through the air and pinging off the walls and floor.  You throw your arms up to cover your eyes, as though blinded by the pale skin of his belly.   “Why do you always have to make this weird?” you moan forlornly, already bending down to search along the floor for the missing buttons.  

Aaaah, my passion project. This was my first foray into writing MHA fiction and my only continual WIP. I'm constantly editing and working to improve this one because it's so important to me.

I noticed very early on that Mineta is a character that authors tend to ignore or replace entirely, so his character really appealed to me because I hadn't really ever seen it explored very thoroughly before. 3-Cs is, at it's core, a Mineta redemption story where I try to mold him into the character he could have been; but it's also a place where I get to explore a lot of my ideas about what it's like for an average person to live in a Hero-centric society.

My absolute favorite moments as a writer are when people comment on chapter 1 with messages like 'I really hate Mineta, let's see how this goes' and then 10 chapters later are posting comments like 'What have you done? I actually like this grape-flavored weirdo now.' I actually had someone mention last chapter that they now were interested in a Mineta x Reader story, so I'm putting some weird vibes out into the universe and proud of it!

I think a lot of the people that I would tag have likely already been tagged, but just in case here are some no pressure tags! @confused-red-head @grxywxrrxnn @auraxins @pikatsum @lou-struck @stellamancer @namodawrites @sipsteainanxiety

[ateez-himari]

NEW K-DRAMA: WHERE WE FALL

Warning: Talks of survivor's guilt, and reference to dark thoughts

[Sunshine Duo taking on Heart Wrenching Roles]

On September 29 a new Korean drama series made its way onto the big screens starring two idols from K-Pop group ATEEZ, main dancer Jeong Yunho and lead vocalist Min Himari.

When nineteen year old Aerin (Min Himari) finds herself as the sole survivor of a mysterious house fire that claimed her twin brother's (Lee Do Hyun) life due to a late practice that had kept her from going home, she can't help but to feel as though she should have died with him, as though she should have saved him. Despite countless therapists reaching out after the tragedy it seemed as though nothing or no one could pull her through this case of survivor's guilt nor help dissipate the visions of her brother appearing in her daily life all the way into insomnia inducing nightmares. Once a bright presence she begins turning to seclusion and unhealthy activities to distract herself from the overwhelming grief, much to her best friend Jae-Won's (Jeong Yunho) despair. The more he reaches out to her, the angrier Aerin begins to get with him and the further she pushes him away, her actions growing in recklessness by the day. But Jae-Won refuses to give up on her. Will he manage to save her...or will she drag him down with her when she finally falls off the deep end ?

The bandmates appeared in the magazine 'Singles Korea' in order to promote the series where they later met with an interviewer who talked with them about their experience. When asked about the difficulty of portraying a character with such a dark and complex story, Himari said "I was really nervous at first because I wasn't sure if I could convey such a complex mental health struggle so I monitored every scene very closely to make sure I had every detail down."

Much like the maknae, Yunho shared similar feelings of nervosity regarding his role by stating "Even though it wasn't my first acting project, the concept was much darker than Imitation's so I found it to be a really intimidating role. The longer filming went on though, the easier it became to sink myself into the story and my character."

(Spoiler ahead)

The pair agreed that one of the most memorable scenes was the last argument in which Aerin steps onto her apartment's balcony ledge only to be stopped by a horrified Jae-Won, leading the girl to finally break down in front of her best friend after a few moments of protest. In their opinion the key point in this part of the drama is the embrace they share, Jae-Won's hands running down Aerin's body in order to comfort her whilst she clings on to him for dear life, pulling herself as close as possible to the man who had so desperately fought to save her. "Even after the director yelled 'cut', Hima(ri) was still holding on to me and crying, that's how emotional the scene was" said Yunho. "I found this very...draining in a way because I found many similarities between our experiences so the story took me over completely. At the end I had no idea why I was crying, I just couldn't stop." Himari added.

Something that a lot of fans are most likely wondering about whilst watching the series is how everything was filmed despite their tour's grueling schedule, not to mention side activities. According to both actors this project had been in the works for quite a while now so they had filmed majority of it prior to their schedules, what little was left being filmed on days off. Himari's view on it is "Even though it was a tiring project at times I feel like it was worth every moment because it was an amazing experience. I'm also very proud of what we created and I hope the fans will enjoy it too." To this, Yunho agreed and continued with "I'm glad we got to see it through to the end and am really thankful to be given an opportunity to take on a more challenging role. I personally can't get tired of the story no matter how many times I had read and monitored it."

Finally it was noted that they also had quite the romantic tension throughout the series, one that even ended with the two of them sharing a kiss amidst their tears. The strong on screen chemistry was explained by Himari "It was slightly awkward at first to be close in such an intimate manner but I feel comfortable with him (Yunho) and we're very close in real life so we managed to work through it." They both recalled being flustered whilst reading the script and having to film this scene more than any others as they kept shying away or laughing. Yunho said "Having her on my lap was already very...strange but then when production said we had to kiss we couldn't seem to keep our composure."

Overall the hard work and emotions put into this series by its actors is sure to capture viewers' hearts to bring them into a rollercoaster of emotions. Stream 'Where We Fall' on Netflix.

[heartfulselkie]

1, 6, 9, 10 for Citrus and Lavender and Bell The Cat

Give a 5-word summary of this chapter/fic.

Hmm since these are both long fics I decided to do a summary of the upcoming chapters I've been working on. 5 words really isn't a lot lol

Bell the Cat: Chat has nightmares. Ladybug's tired.

Citrus and Lavender: Adrien really needs to eat.

6. Does this chapter/fic have any twists that you’re proud of?

I think that the "twists" of these fics are fairly predictable for the readers. I'm still really excited about them though and hope my readers can enjoy them too even if they can see what's going on before the characters do.

9. What is your favorite dialogue you’ve written so far?

Hmm i did have to think about this but for Citrus and Lavender it has to be this scene from Ch. 34:

Marinette almost choked on the gasp that escaped her. Her hand instinctively clutched Chat Noir’s at his side, hiding his ring under her grasp as she squeezed. “We can’t do that! This Miraculous belongs to Chat just as much as the earrings belong to me! No one else is more suited to it!” She glared at Master Fu as tears threatened to return to her eyes. “You said that Chat Noir had the makings of a hero, he only needed a chance to make that choice. Well he made it! He chose to save me! More than once! Maybe now we can finally be the Ladybug and Chat Noir you intended us to be! And I want to give him that opportunity."

Marinette still can't admit what feelings she may or may not have toward Chat Noir, but she can't deny the lengths he has gone through. As much as she's tried to remain stubborn about his "villainy", she now fully believes in his potential to be a hero and is ready to fight tooth and nail to defend him for that.

Meanwhile for Bell the Cat one of my favourite dialogues is completely opposite in tone. I just love this exchange between Ladybug and Chloe in Ch. 2:

"Your map is wrong,” Chloe cut in abruptly. Ladybug blinked. “Pardon?” Tapping a perfectly manicured finger on the paper terrain before her, Chloe pointed out the ink that formed the city. “This is wrong. Gaul is in the wrong place.” She gave a haughty laugh. “Everyone knows Gaul is the centre of Gallia.”

It's just so very "Chloe" to me that she's the princess, but has no idea on the actual geography of her own country. Meanwhile Ladybug is both horrified and baffled by this because surely Chloe isn't that dumb. But Chloe thinks the world revolves around her so where she lives has to be the centre of the universe.

10. What is the last line of dialogue you’ve written?

My Citrus and Lavender WIP doc is a little messy currently but I think this was the last dialogue I added into it?

"Adrien," Emilie cooed. Her hand left his head, instead moving to lift his chin so that he was forced to look at her. "You want to stay with me, don't you? You wouldn't leave me here by myself." A sharp pain continued to throb behind his eyes. He knew he wanted to go out, but he found that desire becoming quickly stifled. It felt like his lungs were quickly filled with a viscous mud, closing his throat off to any and all words except his weakly uttered, "Okay, Maman." Emilie's features finally warmed as she smiled at him. "That's my boy."

My Bell the Cat WIP doc is also a mess lol but I think this is technically the last dialogue I added even though its somewhere in the middle of the chapter

"I saved your life today!" Ladybug snapped. Chat Blanc's lips curled in a mocking smirk, but his voice was nothing but a snarl. "I have nine lives and you want me to thank you for saving one of them?" "A normal person would be at least a little grateful!" "Am I a normal person?" Ladybug hesitated at his blunt question. She stared into the frozen depth of his eyes as he glared at her, and any words she might have had were bitten away by his frost. He took her silence as answer enough. "I thought so," he hissed.

wip ask game

[soapkaars]

Your art is really good and not in a joking way or anything, it's just so unique and I haven't seen anything like it. Your take on HH characters is new since neither of the. Are being portrayed in a stereotypical way and both of them seem really human in my eyes, and not only through appearances. Your art has both the ability to be horrifying yet appealing in some strange way and I really hope you continue to draw so I can further see your interpretations on characters. You give inspiration to me in the rarest sense that I could write poetry for your art just to enhance their beauty.

I hope I did not offend you in any comments I've made, and thank you for your time. Goodbye.

Thank you! This is a really lovely ask! I’ll try to answer in the same style:

I really like hearing you say that my art is both horrifying and appealing - it’s something I’ve always tried to aim for! It’s heavily inspired by Film Noir and some of my favourite artists (George Grosz) and I generally try to get the same effect in digital as I do in drawing - so I only sketch and draw on one layer to keep it raw.

Hazbin Hotel attracted me in the first place because the characters already had a certain humanity to them that I wasn’t used to seeing very often, or at least, or at least not in the specific way that got my attention and nestled itself into my brain. And definitely not with supernatural characters like demons from Hell and Lucifer!!! I think the moment I saw him and Alastor I was sold to the show. I just got gripped by the idea of the devil being more than just a tragic evil figure but as human as humanity itself. He’s proud, he’s silly, he’s serious, he’s whimsical, he’s depressed… and Alastor is such a great foil to him because he’s not afraid, despite being massively outclassed, and he’s willing to throw hands and make a fool of himself to angelic beings! Also he’s ace, and as a weirdo ace aro myself I can’t help but say ‘mine now’ to Vivienne Medrano. I relate too much to Alastor. I draw him as I would like to see myself: witty, snarky, ready to go into situations and be completely outclassed, oblivious…

I am looking forward to the second season, and of course because I draw anything that comes to my mind I might draw some more Hazbin art in the future! In any case, thank you so much for this lovely message!

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 12 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

A03 link

How You Won The Game

"Is the coffee to your liking?" asked Sera, coming back to the table Alastor was sat on with a cup of tea.

She thankfully haven't noticed that he spilled the coffee on a nearby plant, or at least pretended not to notice. Either way it worked just fine for him. No way he was drinking anything she offered him. Who knew if once he tasted something from them, he would be trapped even more than before.

The fact that she had brought him back to the building where he spawned in, to another meeting office looking rom where they were the only ones present, did not inspired him a lot of trust. Here Sera could say or do anything she wanted and there would be no witnesses for it, except him.

"Why I am here, Sera?" Alastor decided to get to the point, keeping up the amicable tone. "Both up here and in front of you."

"Very well" Sera sighed, making appear some sugar cubes that magically landed on her drink. It was just two cubes, not five like Lucifer would have put. She sat down in front of him, taking her time to drink. "For the second part of your question, I would like to hear from you first. What were you doing before you… perished down there?"

"I was defending the hotel for the extermination because my daughter needed me to. Adam cut my neck. I tried to heal myself, but I was too late. Woke up here" explained Alastor easily. "Before that, I had enslaved more than a hundreds souls, killed way too many people I cared to count and consumed the flesh of my fellow sinners happily. Sometimes while they were still alive. As you can imagine, with such a colorful existence, this turned out quite a shock for me."

"Hmm" Sera took a sip of her tea. If she was horrified, disgusted o impacted in any way to hear about his other activities, she didn't show it. She had a true poker face that made it hard to read. "Giving up your life for the sake of a loved one is a very good redeeming quality."

"Oh, I wasn't intending to do that" clarified Alastor. "If anything, I wanted to heal quickly to get back and finish the job with Adam. Now I will have to comfort myself knowing that my husband at least did it for me."

Sera frowned slightly at the mention of Lucifer, but the gesture vanished quickly as it was never there.

"Nevertheless, you did. You gave up your life for the sake of your child. Not all parents would have done the same. You should be proud of that."

"What is this?" asked Alastor with an amused smirk. "If you are trying to convince me that I somehow actually belong here, I am afraid you are wasting your time, dear. I have lived enough in hell to know that is my true place. I knew it even when I was alive too and didn't even believe on it" He sighed, resisting the impulse to see on his watch how much longer had happened since his death. Every moment that he was there, it was another moment that his family thought him lost forever. "If you don't know either how I ended up here, I don't really care at this point. But I think it will be on the best interest of everyone if I just go back where I came from."

"Would you really give up Heaven so easily?" Sera's voice was incredulous, but not actually argumentative, giving him a chance to explain himself. "A lot of humans would love to be in the same position as you are."

"Gladly" Alastor allowed himself a chuckle, supporting his chin over his hands. "They can have it if so they wish, I am willing to trade. One soul enters, another one goes. Everyone wins."

"It doesn't work like that" Sera sighed. Her graceful hands left the cup on the table and locked in front of her, looking serious. "We don't really have a saying on which souls get in or not. That is not our place to determine."

"My little fawn did mentioned that too. That you all don't have the slightest clue what it actually takes to get to Heaven. I was hoping she was exaggerating or embellishing things a bit."

Sera considered his words for a second and moved her head in a yes.

"The only thing that we know for sure now is that you are here. Regardless of whatever choices you made in your previous life, you were deemed worthy to enter this place. I can't do anything else but respect that for what it is, even if I don't understand it either."

Alastor felt a stab on his chest.

"What is that supposed to mean, Sera?" asked, his smile shaking on his face. Sera was the most highest ranking being he had seen on this entire place. If he couldn't get her to understand, then that was another bridge exploding on his face. "I don't want to be here. I want to go back. Would you really retain me here against my will? Is that what Heaven is all about?"

Sera frowned. Her fingers pressed together before she moved her hands to her lap, regaining again her cold beauty. The touch of sadness on her big eyes did not move him at all. In fact, they disgusted him. He didn't need her pity.

"Why?" spat, barely controlling himself. "Why go through the trouble? Just throw me down like a sack of rotten potatoes you don't want infecting your kitchen with maggots and we both can be satisfied today. I am of no use to Heaven and I don't care for it either" Sera didn't even reacted. "My family…"

"They will be fine eventually" cut Sera, her eyes downward. Little it did to make her next words any less cruel. "It will hurt, but they will overcome it someday. They are both immortal so they will have all the time that it exist. You don't have to concern yourself with them anymore."

Alastor stared at her, unable to speak. He had never in his life or death wanted to slap a woman as much as that moment.

"Don't you dare to tell me to forget about my family" warned Alastor, standing up so abruptly that the chair he was on fell to the floor. Neither of them cared for the loud impact. "You have no right. I am Alastor Morningstar. Even your stupid little book recognize me as such."

"Yes, that is true" Sera sighed, her voice just as calm as ever, if not heavier. This wasn't enjoyable for her either, but she would do it anyway. "However, how many people do you think landed here who left their parents, children or partners behind? It's unfortunate, but some families are not meant to stay together."

"Spare me that bullshit" growled Alastor, his hands shaking with pent up energy. "I don't know what kind of order you think you have here, but I want no part on it! Send me back now or I swear for everything you hold holy that I will show you a piece of hell that you will never forget!"

Sera sighed and stand up.

"I will come back once you calm down" were her last words as she floated to the door.

Alastor heard a second later the inconfundible click of a lock.

Two hours passed, after finally the sounds of destruction stopped, Sera came back to knock.

"Alastor. Do you feel any better now?" She waited patiently a few seconds, until the voice of Alastor came through close, right at the other side of the barrier between them.

"Can I at least contact him?" The defeat on his tone disgusted him, but what else could he do? All the windows have remained intact even as he smashed the chairs against them. None of the walls presented a single dent no matter how much he punched them, leaving traces of his own golden blood. Even the marks on his knuckles were gone. "To let him know that I am here. Back on earth they let prisoners to have one final call before they are thrown to their cells."

"I am afraid not. Lucifer has no jurisdiction over mortal souls in Heaven."

Alastor rubbed his face with his hands, pressing his temples.

"Do you realize how silly that is? I have been at his side for decades, almost a century. How much more of a bad influence do you think he is going to be for me for just talking? I understand that you aren't a fan of him, but why do this to Charlie? Why let her believe that her father doesn't exist anymore? What good does that do for anyone?"

"All human souls here have already died, Alastor. Including you. Your old lives are over. Maybe… it could be it's own form of kidness to let them process your absence that way. Then they won't have to worry about how you are doing here or that you aren't part of the same realm anymore."

"That is the single most stupid thing I have ever heard from an angel, and I lived with Lucifer so that is saying something. Do you tell yourself that too when you send your little army to commit genocide each year? That it's kind? That you are doing us a favor?" He couldn't help but to laugh, a humourless sound that tasted bitter on his mouth. "At least when I kill people, I don't pretend it's for their own good. It's always just mine. You should embrace that, dear. This self righteous act you do is so tiresome."

"You are still upset" declared Sera. "I will come back later."

That later was after four hours had already passed and Alastor stopped counting on his watch. At the very least, a day since his second dead had happened already. A day without hearing his family's voice or have any news from them.

If they had won all together, even with the hotel destroyed, they could have gone back to the palace to celebrate. He would have prepared the bull demon meat that he was saving. Charlie would have asked another story and Lucifer would supply, pictures included if needed, while he admired him with a glass of his favorite whiskey.

Charlie could have spend a few days on the palace until they had decided on how the new hotel was going to be, now all of them together. He and Lucifer spending hours arguing over the style of the building as Charlie tried to make concessions the best she could. They could have had their little fawn back with them for a little while and it would have been fun. Not the violent, chaotic, excited and thrilled fun he had during a hunt, but the safe and comforting one that let him breathing in deeply as if for the first time in years.

Was there even going to be a new hotel now? He hoped so. If nothing else, because now that he knew Charlie's dreams of redeeming people could come true, he wanted her to succeed more than ever. That way Heaven could finally get some actual personality and they rub it on the face of those beings that denied Charlie. That would show them.

When he came back home, they were going to make it bigger, better, brighter than ever before. Lucifer was going to need some time to get used to interact with all the residents they were going to bring on the daily, but he would manage to do it and then charm his way into convincing people to stay, probably without even trying to. That is how he convinced him to stay at this side too. Charlie was going to be so happy. Nobody would ever destroy her walls or threaten her dream with the two of them around.

"Alastor?" called Sera.

Alastor stand up from the floor. By now all the furniture had come to their rightful places, completely repaired as if nothing had happened.

"Sera!" responded, pulling up the old charm, as Lucifer would say. "That is exactly the beatiful voice I wanted to hear! How are you doing, dear?"

If Sera was taken aback for his change in demeanor, she didn't show it on her voice.

"I see you are more animated."

"I always are! I do apologize for my previous behavior, though. That was absolutely not the best way to go about any of this. How about we erase that little impulsive moment of mine and start again, see if we can find some kind of solution? We are both reasonable adults here. I am sure we can think of something."

"A solution to you being send to Heaven?"

"Indeed, that one" Alastor walked to the door, keeping an eye on the knub just in case it moved at all. "What do you want, Sera? Whatever that it is, I will find the way to do it. I have quite a reputation for always delivering my part of the bargain. You can ask anyone down in the pride ring! Just name your price and is yours. In exchange, I get something I want. Easy, right?"

"What you want is not something for me to give, Alastor. I don't have the kind of power that can just break the rules for one soul."

"I understand" Alastor clenched his teeth together. "But what about a little and harmless bending of the rules then? Persephone was allowed 6 months outside of the underworld to return to her mother, but we don't have to be as extreme as that" Alastor was aware of the irony of using pagan myths as his arguments in Heaven. He waited a beat to see if Sera appreciated it too, if not at least a chuckle, but when all he got was silence he continued on. "Perhaps just a couple of days a year? With a few hours I could work with too, if that is easier for you. Nobody would even have to know, my dear. I can be just a normal Heaven resident and also remain in contact with my family. Keeping secrets is nothing new for me, some would say that I am even good at it! I can work in anything you need me to in order to repay such kindness, of course, that goes without saying."

"I am sorry, Alastor. I can't."

Alastor took a deep breath that almost made him dizzy.

"Right" It took him a monumental effort to get that word out. Yelling wasn't going to work. His threats, that usually were so effective, were worthless in this situation without the power of back them up. He had to try another route if he ever wanted to get back home. "I know this isn't personal, Sera. You treated my daughter with basic decency when she was here, even knowing who is her other father or her controversial creation. I did always appreciated that, I hope you know it."

"Of course."

"Which is why I know you are not taking any personal enjoyment out of this. I know a sadist when I see one, my dear, and you don't fit the profile. I am absolutely certain that you are operating right now with nothing but the best possible intentions in mind, isn't that right?"

"Your point, Alastor?"

"My point being… I want your help, Sera. From where you stand, what do you think I should be doing that would lead to the best outcome? Surely you don't plan to keep me lock up in this room for the rest of eternity."

Sera sighed briefly.

"You don't have to do anything. Heaven can provide you with everything you need."

"Except my family" Alastor couldn't help himself to add.

"Unfortunately so. The souls that come here do so to rest and to have a peaceful existance. That is all anyone expects from any of you. If I were on your place, I would try to make the best out of the situation, as distressing as it is."

That was so easy to say when she wasn't in his situation. How could she even imagine? A being that had existed only for Heaven and did everything she could to continue existing? What could she care about the problems of mere mortals? Alastor pressed his head against the door.

"I see" said, clearing his throat. "If I promise to do just that, would you let me go from here? It's becoming quite uncomfortable. I don't like the coffe either" After the three hours, he had succumbed to his own curiosity and tried it. "It never gets as hot as I wanted it to."

God forbid anyone could burn their mouths while drinking, even if that is exactly what they were looking for.

"Sorry to hear that" Her voice could be heard closer and Alastor looked at the knub again. "Are you actually ready to be part of Heaven?"

As if she haven't made abundantly clear by now he had no choice.

"I am ready to try" conceded.

The knub started moving. Alastor took a step back and prepared himself to receive Sera with his best cooperative smile. Same smile that went rigid when instead of Sera two buff winners, a man and a woman, looked at him with equally expecting expressions.

"If what you say is true, then you won't have any issue accompanying us, Alastor" said Sera from the hallway. "Come with us to your new residency without causing any disturbance, please."

The place he was taken to was a large white building that somehow looked even more boring than all other, with less decorative elements, as if they were actually trying to make it the plainest they could. The buff angels at his side relaxed and started stretching casually, as if their job was done. Sera thanked them for making them "company" before wishing them a good night.

Before they had refused any attempt of Alastor to make small conversation, giving short uninterested answers, but now they wish them too a good time before they flied away.

"I don't understand" said Alastor, following Sera as he came inside the building. There was an entrance lobby with a secretary behind a desk. "What is this place?"

His first idea was a hotel. Mostly because it would be ironic to die protecting a hotel only to end up in another on his next life.

"This place was designed to receive new souls who have a harder time than others to adapt to the after life" Sera explained.

"Ah, an asylum! I did always figure I would end up in one eventually if I wasn't killed!" admitted Alastor with a light chuckle. Whatever issues he did had, Heaven was the last place equipped to help him with them. Not that he needed or wanted the help in the first place. "This is wholly unnecesary, Sera, dear. Any common house is going to be just as good for me as any other."

"Normally that would be the case, but for everything I hold holy I believe this could help you out in the long run" She even had the audacity of giving him a knowing smile.

Alastor's smile remained the same. He wanted to tear her face apart with his own teeth. Her blood would taste sour, like the skin of oranges, he was sure of it.

"Oh, please, you are not going to hold that silly little moment of weakness over my head like that, are you? I just got a bit carried away and wasn't thinking my words properly. I didn't mean any of it, obviously!"

"Glad to know" Sera made a gesture towards the crystal doors. "After you."

Alastor looked around on the streets, the calm, peaceful streets where no one was threatening anyone with a weapon or was about to pass out after puking their guts out. He pondered briefly about how far he could run if he started sprinting at that moment, but even as he considered it knew it was useless. Even if Sera didn't immediately catched him, she would have no issue finding him later. Pure angelic powers were such a pain in the ass when they weren't coming from his husband.

With no other choice in sight, Alastor walked to what he knew with no doubt was just going to be another prison like it didn't cost him nothing at all. No matter what, he was soon going to get out and find the way to return to his family.

--

Now he understood what his mother meant with time being handled different in Heaven. They still had clocks, and at least nobody tried to take away his pocket watch, but nobody used dates or had calendaries to know how much time had passed. What was the point where there wasn't any change of seasons, if every day was equally perfect as the day before? If someone wanted to keep track of the passage of time, they had to do it entirely by their own means. Speaking to the staff on the "asylum" (that everyone insisted he shouldn't call like that), he heard that was a option they had to tick on their phones. Since he wasn't about to have one himself, he got instead a notebook to go marking the days that he was stuck there.

One day it took for Emily to come visit him. She apologized for taking so long, but she got so concentrated on her task she actually didn't realize how long it had been since she saw him. By the time she finished reading the entire registries and went searching for him, Sera was looking for her instead and explained the whole situation.

"You threatened her?!" said Emily, lifting her hands, incredulous. "Of course she would be upset at you and put you here!" Alastor rolled his eyes with a shrug. Emily let out some air. "I am sorry. You must have felt cornered to get to that point. I should have been there to help you so you didn't had to face her alone. I know she can be a little… unsympathetic sometimes. I understand how frustrating that is."

That was one massive understatement. He considered telling her about how actually that conversation went, how utterly callous Sera was about how he should feel about his family, but decided against it because it would feel too much like whining. They had better things to discuss.

"Just tell me what you could find out."

"Uh? Oh, right, the thing!" Alastor looked at the ceiling, conjuring patience for himself. Why did all the angels he could actually talk to were the ones who had the worst attention span? First Lucifer, now this. "It was fascinating, actually! I read the ones from before I was created because, you know, if there had been a soul that was send to hell on my time then I would know about it already, right? At the very least people would still talk about it! I mean, Lucifer is still a hot topic even though it has been so long already. Did you know that the inventor of the wheel was here? I had no idea! And the man to first create chocolate still has a chocolate store here! Isn't that amazing?"

"Focus, dear."

"Mmm? Oh, yes. Well… there was a case in which someone got a genie back on Earth and wished to come to Heaven to see what it was like. But he haven't died yet, so he got send back as soon he was found out and when he did died he ended up in hell anyway. Um, there was also this man who was a dignatary for Heaven who was send to hell and never came back. Those were the closest to this situation I could find."

"That is it then? Either find a genie or be send directly by Heaven to hell? Do you even have access to a genie?"

"No. If I did I would have brought it already. I am really sorry, Alastor. I thought it could work."

Alastor gave her a slight nod. He believed her too, that was what surprised him. She sounded honestly sad over not being able to provide him with anything more useful.

"And I guess you can't help me to communicate with hell like you did before either."

Emily shook her head keeping her eyes down.

"The last time Sera found out there was one less crystal and doubled the security. Now they only open the vault for meetings."

And the possibility of such a meeting happening any time soon was just as low as Heaving sending him personally as a dignatary. Emily promised that she would come to visit again and keep thinking of some other solution. Alastor considered the logistic of killing everyone in the building in their sleep. Sera would just find another room to lock him until he calmed down. Then repeat for infinity. Would there ever be a point in which Heaven kicked him out just to not deal with him anymore? Would they decide instead to just kill him permanently?

Positives: he could kill everyone in the building. They were all souls confused and depressed because of their own lives left behind. Most of them young. They wouldn't be able to fight a lot against someone with more experience, especially if taken by surprise.

Negative: they would definitely take away his watch when realizing that was his weapon. He would have to get a new instrument if he was to do it again. Something that represented it's own set of trouble. There also no garantee that would make him any closer to hell.

He ended up deciding that going on a rampage, for once, was not on his best interest.

On the second day, he tried to make a drawing of his family. Only to find out that despite being married to an artist, he had absorbed zero artistic ability. He still saved those pieces of paper inside his pocket. On the afternoon some Cherubs came visiting to spend times with the resident souls. Alastor did not participate of their activities, but stared at one of them that looked like a fluffy yellow lamb until the creature noticed him and came floating to him.

He presented himself, made his speech about how he understood it was quite shocking to be in Heaven, but if he gave the place a chance he could find something to enjoy too. Alastor indulged him with some light conversation, ommiting the part of him being very familiarized with the concept of the his own death. When the Cherubs had to go, he waved at the little lamb on his way out.

On the third day, he pushed one of the souls down the stairs when no one was watching. He heard the satisfactory crisp crack of bones and saw them laying on the floor with their legs on an unnatural position. The soul spend half an hour on their almost decorative infarmary until was good as new.

On the fourth day, Alastor sneaked on the kitchen and dumped a bunch of cleaning products into the cacerola that it was being cook. That day he decided to stay on his room while everyone ate and subsequently got immediately sick. Nobody saw him do it.

On the fifthy day, he commented to one of the souls about a rumour he heard, one in which you could come back to Earth if you stabbed yourself 7 times in the chest. The soul in question was a young man that hated leaving his pregnant wife behind, so he was stupid enough to believe it. Unfortunately, he did it during the night when the lights were off and Alastor was robbed from an entertaining view as the night staff found him. As to be expected, he didn't die or came to Earth from it. Now that soul was constantly accompanied by one of the staff members at all times.

On the sixth day, Emily came by again and she insisted on making him participate on a circle of stories in the garden. It seemed easier to give her that than to argue. Alastor end up telling the story of when Lucifer slaughtered a bunch of sinners in front of their castle to save him, feeling extra generous on the gory details. When two of the souls started looking nauseous and one actually puked, they told him he could just listen instead the next time.

On the seventh day, someone had hidden all the curtery in the kitchen and broken every single plate so everyone had to eat sandwiches until they could get new ones.

On the eight day, he got called from the library because he had a new visitor. Alastor was half expecting to see Sera, but was even more surprised when he saw the last exorcist with a fixed frown waiting for him. They both sat a table on the lounging room.

"What can I do for you, dear?" asked Alastor before she could open her mouth. "Did you came to tell me even more details about how my beloved king killed all of your companions? Did Adam screamed a lot in the end or it was a quick grunt? Did my husband took his time? I did wondered about that since the last time we spoke."

Lute glared at him.

"If everyone in hell is like you, then you truly deserved the extermination."

"Oh, no, my dear. I am a especial case. One of a kind" Alastor chuckled. He didn't even disagreed that some part of hell deserved to get killed every year. Charlie was the one who believed even those souls deserved a chance, not him. "But enough about me. Tell me about the slaughtering that no doubt must have been so traumatic for you to witness. Do tell me if you wake up screaming calling his name every night."

Lute sneared at him and looked at the doors, as if contemplating to just leave, whatever brought her there be damned. She stayed instead.

"I didn't came to hear your demonic bullshit. I want to make a deal."

The ears of Alastor perked up, twitching slightly in excitement. For an experienced overlord, to hear about a potential deal was like candy offered to children.

"Oh? What kind of deal are we talking about?"

Lute straighten up her back, more relaxed that they were in familiar territory.

"I can get you back to hell. You can come back with your abomination against nature and unholy partner permanently. Your name will be erased from the books."

"Mmm" Alastor squinted his eyes, his smile growing wider. He knew none of that was going to come for free, but maybe he could still turn it on his favor so he didn't had to give up too much. "In exchange, what I would be doing to compensate such a favor?"

"You will get back to destroy that stupid hotel of that mistake you made" Lute didn't bothered to hide the disgust in her voice. "I don't care what methods you have to use, but burn it to ground and make sure that little brat never tries that again."

"Ah, I see how it is" Alastor made a flick of a wrist, admiring his nails. "Sorry, no can do."

"Did you not hear what I said? You can get back to your stupid family today. All you have to do is…"

"I understand what you ask me to do" interrupted Alastor. "You ask me to betray my daughter's trust so irrevocably that her dreams are destroyed. Not to mention the justifiable anger that would elicit from my husband, who, in case you didn't know, could literally kill me in the spot if he wanted to. And even if somehow he doesn't kill me, he will never see me the same way again and my daughter will want nothing to do with me. You ask me to destroy my family in the long run in order to have my family in the short one. I admire this manipulation strategy, I do, it's a classic for a reason. But I will need something better than that, dear."

"We could take you out as soon the deed is done. Send you another place that wasn't here or hell. Like Earth or somewhere else. You can live the rest of your existence however way you like."

"Even so, no" Alastor sighed, resting his cheek on his hand. "You see, I never cared for her project in the first place. You and I probably thought the exact same thing about it this entire time, that it was silly and a waste of time. But now that I know that Charlie was right all along? I hope she pushes forward, even if I am not there to help her. I will love to see your face when this place starts crawling with reformed sinners. Souls who, I am sure, will feel some type of way about seeing one of the responsibles of their genocide walking around. Now that could be fun."

"You said you would do anything."

"Preying on a father's desperation to get what you want is the right move, but I am afraid I have more experience than you tricking people, dear. This deal would favor you a lot more than it would me and that is something I don't feel inclined to allow right now. So no."

"Enjoy your stay in Heaven then" Lute threw like an insult as she stand up, showing him teeh without smiling. "I am sure your little abomination will learn her lesson sooner or later, with or without your help."

"Tell Sera that I said hi, dear" Alastor pet her hair with one hand and she flinched, taking a step back. "Oh, I am sorry. Since you were her willing dog, always ready to get her paws dirty for her, I thought I could treat you like one too. My bad."

"Fuck you, you demon shit."

With that, the visit was done.

On the ninth day, Emily came by again to see how he was doing and also ask another story. Despite what was the intention of him telling the first one was, she hasn't missed that at least Alastor seemed to have fun telling it and it was the first time she saw him getting any fun since his arrival. If the other souls weren't willing to listen to him, she would. She had a stronger stomach and had lived long enough to let some unsavory descriptions get her like that. He was surprised by the request, but secretly pleased and so obliged.

"How about the first soccer game of Charlie?" offered Alastor, since that was something that was going through his mind anyway. Back when Charlie was still smaller than Lucifer, but big enough that didn't want to be attached to her parents as much.

"Oh, I know that game! I am not very good at it, though" commented Emily, getting herself comfortable on the couch, hugging her legs under her dress.

She even sat like Charlie, expectantly, her full attention on him. Alastor sat down on the couch nearby, looking to the other side.

"Charlie was around 8 back then. This was the first important game for her team because it was going to be against a rival sports club and the winner team would get a plastic trophy to get home. So as you can imagine, the stakes were incredibly high."

"Oh, so very important!" agreed Emily with a giggle.

"Me and my husband were on the crowd of parents watching. We wouldn't have missed it for anything in the world. In hell we keep our relationship a secret for various reasons, so we both were disguised as mere imp servants of the palace. Lucifer had gone all the way out to support Charlie with his own thematic shirt that said CHARLIE N°1 FAN and showing a glittery sign he had made himself declaring Charlie as the best player ever. After a while of his yelling and enthusiastic movement every time Charlie as much touched the ball, soon nobody but me was willing to stay close to him.

Unlike my husband, I showed my support with a thumb up when she looked into our direction. Neither of us truly cared about sports, but when the team of Charlie started losing Lucifer was the classic fan that yelled at the referee for every perceived mistake, since he couldn't at the other young players. I personally thought it was hilarious how colorful his insult became. My poor little fawn had no way to hide her embarassment.

She and her team were losing, unfortunately. When the game was about to end, Lucifer asked me to cause a distraction while he went and enchanted the ball. We didn't want the first ever official game of Charlie with another team to end in failure. Not our little girl.

So I slipped some choice words into the ears of some parents nearby. These ones were even worse than Lucifer, directing their agression towards the rival players or even the team player of their kids. It took just a comment about how the other parents were talking badly about their kids and suddenly a fight broke up. The rest of the adults either protested or were encouraging it even further, finding it more entertaining than the whole game.

In the middle of the confusion, Lucifer slipped to get the ball of the game and put a spell on it. When he came back to his seat, after the two fighters moved to the parking lot to continue their dispute, he told me that the spell would make it so the ball would go directly where Charlie wanted to as long she was the one kicking. I may or may not help too by making some of the kids to trip over themselves when they came close to the ball with a sneaky tentacle that instantly dissapeared in a shadow. Oh, don't look at me like that, dear. Nobody got hurt. Maybe except that one kid that broke his ankle, but to be fair, he had been pushing people the entire time so he had it coming.

This strategy seemed to work. The numbers of both teams even out quickly. Charlie didn't deliver each point, but she was fast and had good reflexes to help her team mates when they were cornered.

Until an imp selling hot dogs in a cart appeared ringing a bell to call attention. She must have been hungry. That is the only thing I could imagine to explain why the ball flew from the field straight to the seller's face, knocking him out in the floor.

The ball continue rolling by itself to the road, where it was flattened almost instantly. They had to bring a new ball. Lucifer grabbed to my arm so strong that it was squeezing my bone, which would leave a lovely bruise for me to discover later, as we saw the timmer ran out. He murmured a curse to make the goalkeeper become blind temporarely, but before he could finish it… Charlie scored the final point.

All her team mates celebrated hugging each other. Their victory declared, Lucifer screamed conjuring confetti out of his hands. When the whistle of the referee declared them officially the winners, Lucifer ran to go celebrate with Charlie. I went to pick up the bag of Charlie when I heard other parents nearby. They were looking at Charlie and commenting about how sad it was that her own parents weren't there, like it was for all the other kids. Instead, mere servants had to come to see her at all. Did the king ever came out of his palace at all anymore? Was he even alive? How could he be so cruel and heartless to not make any time for his daughter? And poor Charlie. She was going to grow up feeling so unloved!

I loved to hear that kind of talk from people. Showed how much they had no idea of anything. It was especially amusing hear them talk like that about my fawn when I could hear her laughter not that far away from me. But when I turned around, I was surprised when Charlie ignored Lucifer's open arms and came to look for my own. Sending a shrug to Lucifer, I picked her up and hugged her as she clinged to my neck. She spoke to me in a tiny grumpy voice.

Papa cheated.

When the game resumed, Charlie immediately knew there was something different about the ball on the game. She couldn't know why, though. Since she was made from both our magic, she was very sensitive to the presence of either around her. The ball was undeniable drenched on Lucifer's magic. She still had no idea what that meant, but quickly made the connection when the ball went exactly where she was wishing it for. The smashing the face of the hot dog seller had been a genuine accident, though. Charlie was actually aiming for the street and the imp just happened to be on the way. Apparently she haven't noticed my own tentacles, either because they weren't as easy to spot in front of Lucifer's magic or they were too small and fast for her to pick up. Either way, what is a father to do but to console my little angry fawn?

When Lucifer came for us, Charlie dedicated him a tongue sticking and buried her face on my shoulder. She wanted to reprimand him, but knew she couldn't in public. I couldn't help but to feel proud of her for that, just as much as she dealing with the situation. We still waited to see that the trophy was delivered to their couch. Charlie spoke with her friends on the team and then took my hand, refusing to aknowledge Lucifer as he took us apart to make a portal direct to home. As soon we were on the other side, back at our home, her little antlers grew up in her head as she gave Lucifer a piece of her mind.

Papa was dumb. Papa didn't need to rig her game, she got it already. She had been training so much and he almost ruined it! How could he do that to her?

She stomped her way with her hooves back to her room, yelling she didn't want to celebrate anything anymore. We already had gotten the cake that either was going to console her or make her happier. Lucifer tried to bring a piece to her and Charlie refused to talk to him the entire time, hiding inside her bed to not see him. Lucifer tried to apologize, but she didn't want to hear about it. I tried to tell him to give her some time and it would pass, but it wasn't enough.

At the next day, Charlie was still upset. She stubbornly avoided recognizing Lucifer and stuck to my side as a barrier between herself and her father. I tried to tell Charlie that her papa didn't mean anything bad with what he did, but then she got upset at me and locked herself on her room. By lunch Lucifer had think of a perfect solution to calm down our daughter. Guess what it was?

He decided to make a little tournament in our backyard. Summoning my own shadow minions as the rest of the player and himself as the rival goalkeeper, Lucifer declared that he would recognize Charlie as the best soccer player in all of hell if she could win against him. But she better watch out because he wasn't planning to go soft on her just because she was his little girl! If she had such trust on her own abilities, surely she would have no use proving it to him! No cheating, no magic, nothing. My minion were commanded to play their respective roles, nothing else. To garantee some sense of impartiality, Lucifer somehow had convinced Satan to be the referee. I still don't know how he did it.

Oh, I know that saying that name already brought a bunch of association for you, dear. Despite the opinion that Heaven might have of the embodiment of the Sin of Wrath, Satan was actually an stickler of the rules like no other. He might as well been the only one of the sins who cared about the rules set up in Hell. Yes, really. Indeed, I appreciate the irony too. He was also the only Sin that greeted us with a reverence and using our titles, something that Lucifer had try to tell him he didn't had to do without any success.

Charlie knew her uncle well enough to be familiarized with that aspect of him, so she knew he was the best candidate for the job. He wasn't going to be indulgent with any part of this game. The winner would get to chose dinner and dessert for the next week, and Lucifer loudly announced that he might pick salads or something greener since lately they were lacking on that. And why have desserts at all? A good healthy dinner should be enough to fill any stomach!

Charlie gasped in pure horror before she turned into pure determination. Now this, this was more personal than ever before. Forget about the plastic trophy, these were the real high stakes now.

With everyone put on their place, the game started. To give credit to Lucifer where it was due, he made himself even smaller to be a proper goalkeeper and stopped a few of the points from Charlie's team, even when they came from Charlie. Satan kept the score easily, making sound the whistle that I imagine he must have brought himself that hanged from his neck each time it was necessary. Every fault was called out for. Every penalty was delivered with the same rigurosity.

Lucifer kept taunting Charlie when she was the closest on his side of the field, talking about how delicious all those green salads were going to be. No more cookies pre dinner either! Maybe he was going to lock them up in a safe or give them to Satan as payment for being there! All of them! Not a single cookie crumble left behind! Satan didn't reply to that, but I could imagine he wasn't going to want the cookies. But when my minion scored on the other side, Lucifer still couldn't help himself to tell Charlie that it was okay, she was going to do better for the next one!

By default I guess I end up being the coach of Charlie, giving her something to drink and support during the half time. For the moment at least, it seemed she had forgotten she was supposed to be angry at me too. Her little eyebrows were coming together, but I saw the smile that she was actively trying to hide on her face. I told her that if she wanted to confuse her enemy, she should really smile all the more even if she is close to losing. A confused enemy was a disoriented one, little fawn, and that meant they were all the more easy to trick into doing what you wanted them to. At the same time, they will never know what you are up to with a good smile.

I don't know if she could fully understand what I was saying to her. She was smart, but even smart kids had their limits. In any case, when Satan said everyone had to go to their positions again, she wasn't hiding her enjoyment, laughing. I guess she interpretate that as permission to just have fun…? Whatever worked for her, I suppose. I wasn't about to complain for seeing my fawn happy.

The scoring points for a while stayed even. Charlie gave her absolute best, nobody could say she didn't try. She fought valiantly until the end. But when Satan blowed his whistle, the numbers didn't lie. She had lost by one point.

Lucifer tried to ask Satan for more time, but before he could finish his sentence Charlie already was yelling at him for it. She had lost fair and square, she didn't want any more help! She said that… and then started crying standing there. When Lucifer hold her, she didn't fight it and clinged back, whimpering she didn't like salads, please, she could eat one, but not for a entire week straight, no, please. Every resentment she had went away as easy as that by the fears of green vegetables."

"Aww, poor thing" said Emily, pouting for the distress of a little girl she never saw. "Did she really had to?"

"No, of course not. Lucifer let her have her celebration cake for dessert, after I prepared some my most delicious meat with only a few green. That is the story of how Lucifer learned not to cheat… in such an obvious way that a 8 year old could find him out immediately."

Emily giggled behind her hand.

"That is a terrible lesson to take from that" protested nonetheless.

Alastor shrugged. They could agree to disagree.

"I am waiting for my review" said non chalantly, lifting his hand as if asking it for written.

"Oh, it was very good! The moral could improve, but you have a real talent for storytelling."

"I do, thank you for noticing."

"Did you do that a lot back at your home?" asked Emily, her voice softening as she supported her head over her knee. Alastor appreciated that she didn't say "downstair" or any stupid other name. "Telling stories about your life?"

Alastor nodded his head.

"Charlie was the one who asked me the most" explained with a low sigh. "It started with her wanting to know how her parents met and from there she just kept wanting to know more. Back when I was alive on Earth I was a radio host and I had my own broadcast in hell as well. Speaking in front of an audience and improvising wasn't nothing new to me. I might have tell so many of them at least a dozen times, but she never got tired of them."

"Well, I never heard them so I can be surprised by them" pointed out Emily and then moved her leg to kick them on the corner of the couch. "To tell you the truth, it's really fascinating to hear you talk about hell as you do. I know you describe people fighting and screaming and probably there were people doing worse than that, but still they also… go to their kid's game to support them and they care for kids that aren't their own. It doesn't sound so scary when you put it that way. Maybe it's just a matter of finding the right people and even Hell is not that bad."

Alastor arched an eyebrow, truly amazed that was her interpretation.

"Oh, no, dear, don't get confused. Hell is awful, horribly so. Just because I enjoy it like that, doesn't mean others would."

"I know" Emily smiled to him. "But it's still nice to think about it. That some good things can be found anywhere, even in hell."

"Inside of every demon there is a rainbow, huh" murmured Alastor quietly for himself, looking at his hand holding his staff.

No wonder Charlie had connected with Emily so quickly during a brief meeting.

"What?"

"Nothing, dear, just thinking out loud" He lifted his shoulders and let them fall, regaining his normal volume. "Well, until I can get out of here, you can ask me whatever you want about my home. I don't promise that you will like all of it, though."

"Can I ask more stories?"

Alastor could feel his tail moving slightly under his jacket suit. It was the first time since arriving to Heaven.

"For sure."

[nobodywritingao3]

i feel kind of sick making this post so please excuse me if i sound like a rambling mess. i am not the type of person to talk in detail about my life in online places cuz i live in fear of this getting back to my abuser but shubble's story punched all my most sensitive spots and i want to talk about it

(really long sensitive post)

ive gotten kind messages from people that i havent responded to. the idea of responding to people individually kind of makes me feel sick. so im doing this instead. and im also going to vent really hard because i am not doing well and talking about this to my therapist is soul crushingly embarrassing because wilbur soot is a minecraft man and im a freshly turned 20 year old who pays rent and is respected by my therapist and i dont want to admit that i wrote fanfic about a 30 year old white boy i discovered in quarantine when i was 15. can you imagine that conversation? id have to explain what the dream smp is.

when i watched shubble's video for the first time, i was in total disbelief. i couldnt believe that wilbur soot had done these things but i knew that the liklihood of it being anyone else was pretty low. i chose to hope that the story was not about him, and that if it was that he was a reformed abuser who had reorganized his value system and respected his partners now. i had a lot expectations. then he released his statement and i was horrified. i was disappointed and kind of in denial. his statement was worse than anything i had prepared for as 'worst case scenario.' as time has passed my denial has mostly dulled but im ashamed and im embarassed and im badly triggered.

i kind of hysertically hoped that it was a sick prank that shubble and wilbur cooked up and would get horribly cancelled for, but its not a prank, theres no "haha sike" moment, and wilbur abused shelby.

his response undid me because i saw so much of my own abuse in the words he used.

abusers are really good at making people take a centrist "two sides to every story" stance. i dont know how to describe this to people who have never been abused, but i will do my best

most people are taught that when theres an argument between two people, both parties carry some amount of blame and if you want to resolve that issue, it's a good idea to look at your part in the dynamic. we're also taught to keep our disagreements between ourselves and to not involve other people in our drama.

these are sensible sentiments, but abusers are very good at manipulating these sentiments.

when a victim speaks up for themselves and they call someone an abuser, what they are saying is: "this person cruelly bullied me and hurt me and exerted control over me that i did not deserve or ask for or elicit."

that's a heavy accusation and it contradicts sentiments we are taught like "it takes two to tango" and "dont involve others with your relationship drama."

many abusers are charismatic people. id even say most. when you hear this accusation about someone you think is really cool, your natural instinct is to ask for their side of the story.

they will tell you some version of this:

"i am shocked and hurt that she would call me an abuser. we've been having relationship problems recently, and sometimes i lose my temper. im not proud of that. ive done a lot of things im not proud of. it's true that i did [insert played down act of violence] to her, but you wouldnt believe the horrible things she was saying to me. i lost control, and im so ashamed of myself."

this version of events makes the abuser seem reasonable, it makes the victim seem irrational and quick to blame and hysterical

from here, a lot of people will nod thoughtfully and go. "yeah. yeah. that makes sense. everyone has a unique perspective. the fact that shes attributing all the blame to him without recognizing her own flaws and contributions to the relationship while he does shows that hes the reasonable one here. hes such a chill guy. the things shes saying dont make sense at all. i probably wont say it to her face, but i think shes in the wrong."

wilbur's response hit all the beats im familiar with. it was so in line with everything my abuser used against me, and in line with what ive heard other victims say their abusers used against them, and in line with examples ive read and witnessed and had countless psychiatrists walk me through that reading it was like getting hit by a train.

the hope that i carried with me through that week was that wilbur was a reformed abuser. but reading that response gave me the gut wrenching confirmation that he wasnt.

thinking about it too much literally makes me sick and shaky in a way i havent experienced since my own abuser tracked me down the first time and gave me a beautifully wrapped gift. with my abuser, i had several years trapped with him where all the love i felt for him disappeared and was replaced by total hatred for everything he put me through. i wasnt expecting this from wilbur at all, and i feel fucking sick because this was a man i sincerely admired and looked up to a lot. i really liked wilbur soot. he released that response and this image in my head that i had of him was tainted by the memories of my abuser.

im reminded of one event several years ago where i was choked. i tried to ask for help but everyone who knew immediately reached out to him and asked for "his side of the story." i dont want to talk about what he did to me after that. all that matters is that in the end, no one believed me. everyone took his side over mine and insisted that i was lying or exaggerating or trying to get attention or trying to make him look bad. people who i loved and thought would always be there for me sent me paragraph long text messages calling me a bitch and a cunt. the person i loved the most in the world told me that i was out of line and said point blank that they were sorry, but couldnt believe me over the person who choked me. i had never felt so alone.

ive been having a rough time. i confided in a friend who is trying to escape his abusive husband, and he gently told me that this might mean i have "a type," meaning im naturally drawn to people who are abusive. after i escaped, i took a lot of solace in the fact that i was inspired so much by wilbur soot. i thought he was progressive and stood up for womens rights and was anti bigotry and all those lovely good things. this man i admired so much was the image of healthy, nonviolent, kind masculinity. finding out he isnt has made me question myself and my own judgment and it's making me wonder if the people i let in my life and the people im drawn to are people who i subconsciously know will hurt me.

as of now, its been a year and a half since i escaped my abusive family at 18 years old. i turned 20 like half a second ago. the past 18 months of my life have been devoted to looking into legal protection, getting therapy to undo nearly 2 decades worth of ptsd, trying to keep all my baggage to myself because i dont want to burden my friends anymore than i have, and holding down a steady job so that i can afford rent without having to rely on the parents of my friends to house and feed me and keep my location secret from an insane group of people who reeeeally want me to come back even tho im pretty sure one of them might """""accidentally"""" kill me one day

i feel ashamed and embarrassed by being this affected by wilbur soot. parasocial relationships are looked down upon and i feel like the perfect stereotype of a hysterical, delusional teenager / young lady finding out that her hero is "a flawed human being, just like you and me - seriously, what did you expect?!"

i already see people jumping to his defense, although i try to look away because that is also extremely triggering for me.

it is hard not to acknowledge wilbur's humanity, and i want to clarify that i do feel compassion for the amount of death threats, doxing, and isolation he is undoubtedly experiencing right now. no matter what you do, i dont believe that retributive justice or revenge is a proactive, sane response. i am sincerely worried that he will either try to kill himself as a last ditch attempt for sympathy OR that he will actually just kill himself from the public shaming. i do not want him to experience a mental health crisis and i do not want him to die, even tho he has horribly disappointed me and reminded me of so many bad things

this was kind of an insane post. im ready for it to get 1 note and then experience a horrifying amount of embarrassment as i realize that people read this and know disgusting amounts about me as a person, but i want to share my experience as someone who has been abused. i want to offer solace to people who are in the same boat and possibly reach someone who might have otherwise believed wilbur was telling the truth.

i want to end this post on a positive note, so im going to share some naive hope ive been repeating to myself for the past few days

i hope that people believe shubble. i hope she finds comfort and compassion and healing. i hope she can internalize that what happened to her was not her fault. i hope she lives a happy life surrounded by people who see her and care about her

i hope that the people close to wilbur make him confront this side of himself. i hope he fixes his abuse problem and reorganizes his values. i hope his network of people is strong enough not to abandon him entirely but to intervene and make him work on himself. i hope he stays alive and i hope that he becomes an advocate for abused women

this was cheesy and unrealistic but ive been sending my hope into the universe and trying not to shut down because i dont know what else to do and my two hours of government issued weekly ptsd therapy is already devoted to the horrible things i experienced firsthand

anyway

as far as my fanfiction goes???? i dont fucking know.

im not going to delete it. im definitely taking a break and at least stepping into a pause so i can properly reflect on what to do in the meantime. as a musician and writer and creative in general, i was inspired by many aspects of wilbur soot for years and i need a second to chill out and get a hold of myself

maybe ill complete my work. if i do ill upload the finished products in one go and probably orphan them. and maybe delete my ao3 account. god knows at this point

i am still cringing so hard at myself for making this post. it's very emotional and i try to sell myself as serious, intellectual person. maybe this post will be received great or badly or just be ignored. in any case ill be embarrassed so it doesnt really matter how anyone feels about me after this. if you took the time to read, thank you for hearing me out. and if you didnt, im glad that i got a little catharsis

[kitxkatrp]

🎨,🖤,🏹,💔,🎄,❌(Lan Fan),🗡️,😶‍🌫️,❤️‍🔥, 💄, ❤️, 🎀, 🧪, 🤔, 💀(Fu's death), ✍️ all for LING YAO c:

🎨 ARTIST PALETTE— what are some hobbies that you like to partake in? do you think they're just to pass time or to distract yourself, or do you believe some of them potentially have therapeutic outcomes for you?

"I like eating and trying new foods that I haven't tried before! It's loads of fun, but also, I tend to faint if I don't eat very often, so it's beneficial for me anyway. Besides, it's relaxing."

🖤 BLACK HEART — what would you say is the darkest thought you've ever experienced? what do you think caused you to have that thought? have you ever planned on or fantasized about acting on it?

"When Envy changed into Lan Fan...I was horrified....but a part of me wanted to rip him to pieces, slowly, carve his tongue out and rip out his eyes for daring to defile the image of someone I cared about." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't get the chance to, but I still think about it sometimes. I'm...a little upset I never got the chance to have a go at him, but I hear Mustang did a good job of it by himself."

✈️ AIRPLANE — have you traveled anywhere that helped you discover something about yourself and/or about the world?

"I traveled to Amestris to find the secret of immortality, but...while I was there I think I got stronger as a person. I lost some important things and a person along the way...and I still walked out of it accomplishing my goal. I think...because I did that, I can lead this country more efficiently."

💔 BROKEN HEART — is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?

"I'm not sure if this counts since he died not that long after I became Emperor, but I wish I had a better one with my Father. I wish that I wasn't just a number to him. I wish it wasn't all /games/ to see who was succeed him. I wish he had actually cared for each of us individually. For us he was one person. To him, we were all melded together like a stew. I always despised that about him."

🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your favorite holiday and why?

"New Years, New Years Day specifically. I like the festivities, and I like the promise of a new year. It means you survived yet another year, you're still alive, and you get to celebrate being alive. What's there not to like about that? Oh...also the food."

❌ CROSS MARK — how would your life be different if [name of person] had never been in it? would it be better or worse?

"I--honestly I don't want to think about that. But...I think I would have failed my quest. I don't think I would be Emperor without her support and I don't think I would have survived very long. I....she's always been by my side and made me feel safe. Without Lan Fan...I don't want to know."

🗡️ DAGGER — what is something or someone you know you can't afford to lose? how far are you willing to go to make sure you don't lose it/them?

"Lan Fan or Greed. I refuse to lose either of them. I nearly did, both of them, multiple times, and that was the worst feeling I've ever felt. I refuse to let myself fall into that state again and for that, I need them both with me. They are my strength."

😶‍🌫️ FACE IN CLOUDS — is there something you're hiding from the people you love? if so, how urgent is it for them to hear it? what's holding you back from sharing it?

"I....am both proud of myself and hate myself just a little. I am proud for making it this far...but I am...ashamed of what it took to get me here and the sacrifices that had to be made. If I had been stronger, Lan Fan would've never lost her arm and Fu might still be here. Even Greed, I wasn't strong enough to avenge his friends either. They...don't need to know I feel like this. They would tell me it wasn't my fault, or responsibility, but....I can't change how I feel."

❤️‍🔥 HEART ON FIRE — what angers you the most? what triggers this anger, and how do you cope with it? what does this anger feel like, if you had to describe it?

"People like King Bradley that claim to rule a country without a care for the citizens they govern. That sort of selfishly driven person isn't suited to lead a country, nor should they hold their head high like he did. The fact he not only called me a fool for caring about my country's citizens, but also had the gall to harm those close to me, makes me angry. I wish I had been the one to bring him to his knees, if only to prove to him that he was wrong. This deep burning feeling inside of me, it was the first time I've ever felt it."

💄 LIPSTICK — have you had any romantic or sexual experiences that made you realize something about yourself?

Ah hell, they just had to ask this one, didn't they? "Well..I..." He swallowed thickly. "Realized that I really like to be touched....more than I thought I ever would....and I actively desire it. I....didn't realize I was that kind of person." Just from kisses too.

❤️ RED HEART — what is/are your love language(s)? how do you use it/them to communicate your feelings about others?

"Sharing a meal! Oh? Does that not count? I guess...hugs and kisses, and paying attention to the little things. But to be honest, I think that might be less of a love language and more of...something I've learned to survive." Considering how many people were trying to kill him-- "But either way, I like to think it says that I care. I'm....a bit too awkward to say it out loud most of the time."

🎀 RIBBON BOW — how confident are you with your physical appearance? is there anything about it that you are insecure about? is there anything about it that you are happy about or gives you confidence? how do you think people perceive you based on your physical appearance?

"...." He hates this question. "...Do I have to be honest? ...Okay fine, I don't think I'm handsome or attractive at all. I don't like any of it. I wish I could change how I look. I don't even know what it is about it that I hate, except all of it. I don't know how people look at me, but I do know how I feel and I just...don't like it."

🧪 TEST TUBE — if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?

"....Spend one more night showing them how much I love them. Maybe say it to them a few times to their faces, and hold them the whole time until my last breath. And I'd hope....that the last thing I'd see would be their faces."

🤔 THINKING FACE — what three emotions tend to dominate your mindset? do you know why they do?

"Hungry, exhausted, and determined. I'm always hungry, I'm always tired and never get enough sleep, but I always pull through and never give up."

💀 SKULL — how has [name of person] 's death influenced your outlook on life, if anything?

"I...feel like that naive part of myself died with him. The part that still thought I could achieve my goal without anymore sacrifices. It...really kicked my ass into gear and told me a lot about what being a ruler means. I won't....forget that lesson." He missed Fu.

✍️ WRITING HAND — what is one thing you wish you were better at? this can be a tactical skill, social skill, hobby, etc.

"....Expressing my feelings. I really do think I'm terrible at it. When I try to say something profound to someone I love, I get frightened and lose my will...it's kind of embarrassing."

[thetalkingwave]

Happy last day of Autism Awareness Month!

My story is a bit of a long one, and I will be omitting some factors regarding upbringing, but I hope it's amusing, or at the very least interesting~

At 4 years old, I was considered near a full mute- I was social, playful, but I wouldn't say anything beyond a whisper or two to my sister and my folks. Many asked when I was a teenager why that had ever been the case and I could never find an explanation for it.

It ended up being a running joke to my older relatives that the reason it was the case was that 'talking is what starts trouble'. I stuck by that notion, but as this was the early 2000s, I understand why this wasn't scrutinized beyond a talk with a speech councilor as to whether or not I would be fit for a traditional school.

Adjacent explanations, the not quite answers, would be commonplace for any bizarre behavior to follow.

When I was 6 years old, my mom had taken me and my sister to a store to buy new clothes- the first time doing so outside of school uniforms since we had moved to Texas.

A few outfits- the catch being we both had to come out with at least two pairs of pants.

I hated pants. Shorts were the most I'd wear, but I couldn't stand how tight they felt, or how the fabric brushed against my legs. I could only go halfway on trying them on before I roughly tossed them aside, squirming and on the verge of tears.

I was just "an extreme girly girl". But pants are needed for messier outdoor activities, so I walked out with fabric that didn't make my skin crawl.

I caught pneumonia at 8 years old for a similar reason- jacket collars brushing against my neck made me feel like I was suffocating. I would wear them for a short while or forgo them entirely.

Unzipping just under the neck didn't cross anyone's minds, but the compromise was either a thicker sweater or a comfortable thinner one underneath so the jacket wouldn't be directly touching my skin.

When I was 15, I had unknowingly unmasked. I wouldn't have considered myself popular; charming would have fit more.

Revealing my analysis of others (in the love for linguistics) was a dire mistake.

At 17-19, anytime I was caught stimming, I would immediately stop.

At age 21, after a harrowing day at work prior, I reached a breaking point. My right hand wouldn't stop shaking.

'A seizure, A seizure!' Was heralded by near all surrounding me.

'Nothing wrong', said the brain scan.

A week passed. It slowed down. A few days passed after that.

It completely stopped.

I was left wondering why something so horrifying felt so familiar.

At age 22, I started a new job. Curiosity peaked for some, but for most...It was shrugged.

Suddenly, something clicked.

"Wait...am I...hired?"

"I...wouldn't be asking these questions if you weren't?"

No malice, no mocking intent behind any question.

Eye contact wasn't a requirement. I no longer felt nauseous.

Early on, I was halted by an older woman I had become friendly with.

"Que traes?" (What do you 'got'?)

"En general? Autismo." (In general? Autism.)

She elbowed another coworker, the blatant appearance of "I told you so" on her face.

"You're a little odd."

I laugh in agreement.

"You've become much more open since you've started here. I'm proud of you."

It's been over a year and I'm still at this job.

At my final day of being 23, I finally get to reveal one of my biggest secrets, the first person who knew being the man I love.

The other incidents were signs, but this is my favorite giveaway.

At age 6-7, I developed a hyper fixation.

The process intrigued me, the way the elements all came together to compliment each other. A meatball sub, a BLT, a torta, ETC.

The sheer amount of joy I experienced when I had tried a Reuben for the first time could only compare to my passion of drawing.

My childhood dream was to make sandwiches, and it was unfortunately denied of its existence when I realized then and there it wasn't at all common for a child to have that interest.

My current and most long running job?

A gourmet grocery store.

The position?

Sandwich Bar.

And now it's something that those I work with on there already know.

[izzyeffinhands]

The only Facebook group I feel safe in as an Izzy Hands stan is Our Flag Means Daddy.

Even though I am apart of the two main groups as well, i.e. Our Flag Means Deathposting, Our Flag Means Fans, I do NOT feel SAFE. I see the wildest and hottest fucking takes in these groups and they piss me off. Are you even watching the same show? I’m also sick and tired of people calling Izzy a villain when he clearly is not. Also there are many that don’t recognize he’s gay, even after season 2. If you voice you’re upset and betrayed? You get attacked. I was again last night.

I guess I’m a proud Izzy “apologist”, but it fucking baffles me how fans just give Ed a pass on all the brutal things he did. Oh but the love story—- NO. Recognize you’re an Ed apologist as well. I like both Ed and Izzy, but I recognize the horrifying things Ed did.

The day of the finale, I posted my thoughts on various social media. I got attacked. I got messages even on tumblr from anon cowards who I imagine followed through Twatter. I was called the t slur. That I was stupid, fat, all sorts of things.

It’s because I said I’ll never trust David Jenkins again. Now, do I have my own thoughts as to whether parts of the finale are a dream state/gravy basket that Stede himself is in? Absolutely. But let’s dive into why I was especially hurt.

First off. I am disabled. For those who know me, I’ve also had two leg surgeries and my injury has ruined my life. So seeing Izzy with a false leg, as a disabled character, still being badass? It felt good. It boosted my confidence for me to keep going. I had so much metal in my leg it caused pain that left me bedridden and using a wheelchair and cane. Many a time I wish they’d chopped my leg off.

I see a lot of myself in Izzy. I swear, he has the traits of an Aries with his anger and intense emotions. This man feels deeply for those who cares for, even though at first this seemed to just be Edward. Despite the hardened shell, he’s a romantic at heart. I’m very much the same.

That hardened shell is also a form of masking to me. In my opinion, and in my own headcanon for this roleplaying blog, Israel is neurodivergent and suffered sexual assault on ships when he was young. It’s part of the reason he has bowel issues. He had to force himself to put on that rough motherfucker mask in order to protect himself. I was bullied mercilessly in school. When I started middle school, I decided to align myself with the “bad kids” as a form of protection. Guess what? Part of myself was masking I was a bad ass, part of myself became the badass I was masking to be after years of torture.

Also. I am transmasculine. I’m pre-HRT. But to me, Izzy is very transmasc coded. This was even confirmed by Con himself when a transmasc fan at Supercon brought the conversation up. I’d just like to say again how much I adore him for supporting the trans community, particularly transmascs who often are glanced over.

Then David Jenkins, a straight man, that swore he wouldn’t fall into the kill your gays trope did exactly that. So let’s exclude here the thought that this is possibly a dream state, or even that he might be resurrected by Buttons as a zombie or ghost which I fucking hope not. We’re talking about my initial feelings. Now it felt like they were setting him up to be killed but I said oh no Jenkins wouldn’t do that to us. He promised he wouldn’t.

Guess what?! He fucking did. Not only that, he murdered off the disabled, gay, transmasc coded character after giving him the most beautiful character arc of any character on the show. You can have a gay pirate rom com, you can understand some characters can get hurt, but killing someone as a means to advance plot? Fuck you. Also, the fact that Izzy apologized to his ABUSER?! As if the victim blaming and shaming wasn’t enough for Izzy Hands, which I see plenty of still, that’s fucked up on so many levels.

So to me I watched a version of myself be murdered. It hit me in the hardest way imaginable. I cried for days. I’ve never been so attached to a character in my 38 years of existence. I’m sick and tired of people saying they like his redemption arc. Izzy never needed redemption. He just needed one, single, person to tell him that he was loved and cared about.

So voicing that I felt betrayed and that I no longer trust Jenkins got me nothing but vitriol. Then toward the end of the day, he made a tweet about how there’s no version of the show without Izzy and had the comments turned off. He knows what he did. And then in the FB groups, if you dared say you were upset that day, requoted Jenkins, you’re a horrible person? Right. I didn’t start attacking the writers. I just said I’m betrayed and I can’t trust what I thought was my comfort show. Because of that, I got hate.

As much as I’d like to believe Izzy will return, the interviews David has done post season 2 talking about his character give me little hope. It’s like he just stabbed every fan in the back. Id like to think the rushed finale is really a dream sequence or gravy basket deal. Id like to think that Izzy will come back thanks to Buttons. But now I just don’t trust David Jenkins.

And if you dare voice this opinion anywhere but Our Flag Means Daddy and Twatter, you get attacked. So here goes. Thanks for my TED talk.

[acoldsovereign]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — Guillotina or GT for short. I also take Tiny, Tee, T, Tina, and Terror.

pronouns — She/her.

preferred comms — Tumblr IMs for first-time meetings. Discord for if we get on well.

name of muse — Maiz.

experience in RP — 14 years.

best experiences —Finding my current mutuals on here and creating funny, hilarious and horrifying threads to the point where they message me to lament or laugh at how terrible Maiz is to people. Having people seek me out specifically because they want the antagonistic dynamic with her. Also--finding out how to make things work when she isn't being a menace/demon to others. All of this has been a blast so far and has inspired me to continually push myself when it comes to writing and character direction.

pet peeves/dealbreakers — I don't have them any more. As in, if something bothers me, I'll blacklist, block and remove/unfollow whoever and whatever I need to. So, since I've been doing that, I don't have things that upset me nor do I allow things to upset me anymore.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — Maiz is a muse that lends herself mostly towards creating angst for others but for herself? I would say angst or intrigue/mystery fits her more than the other two, as she's what I call "romance-locked." I don't mind writing smut, but again, she's romance-locked. So that happens under specific circumstances, only. Fluff isn't out of the realm of possibility but she has to give a damn about you in any capacity, truthfully.

plot or memes — I used to be a chronic plotter, but now I'm a mixture of both. Plot and memes/winging it, or winging it and then plotting afterward. Whatever makes the most sense to me is what I'll do, but I'm known to message writing partners and ask about tiny details just to be safe.

long or short replies — In my personal life, I'm a poet and author (it'll be two years in a week or so, I believe). I love writing what one of my mutuals call, "Tolkien-level replies". (Long, detailed replies). However, I've come to acknowledge brevity can be effective at times. Currently, I'm upgrading my vocabulary to achieve this effect.

best time to write — As of right now, I write every day. It's cathartic.

are you like your muse?: Not anymore, which reminds me to make this public announcement before I forget. As of last month, I no longer qualify/have the traits of sociopathy. All behaviors, past trauma and traits fueling that mindset and way of life have been eradicated permanently. I can healthily process my feelings--I am proud to say I am finally a well-rounded, healthy and functioning adult.

Aside from this, the only similarities Maiz and I share are darker skintones, cultural and spiritual complexities, and the ability to lighten (or darken) a room. Metaphorically, of course.

Tagged by: @peoplcshope. (This is so late but thank you, Jay!)

Tagging: All of you who have muses that have been mildly inconvenienced by Maiz in any way, shape, or form.