#I meant to ramble about how boring life has been lately

[constantcrying]

Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

[pappydaddy]

when i'm eighty (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!pogue!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: y/n is exhausted and jj neglected the bike's gas tank. who knew it would lead to such a proclamation.

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543 | @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover | @taurusvic | @moralina | @verystarfishflower | @4dr1ana | @adr1an4 | @instabull | @poppet05 | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @popeheywardssecretgf | @lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @444lyra *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: tears (exhausted) | karen situation mentioned | the lovely realities of a retail job

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- not my gif -

Sure, Pogue life was fun and relatively carefree, and Y/N wouldn’t trade her life for anything, but it did have its downfalls. Like when you see something you really like and you pick up extra shifts and work your ass off for it, but a Kook just has to ask their parents for it and boom - they have one they barely use or care for. Or when you accidentally spend too much money grocery shopping so now you have to pinch your pennies until next pay in two weeks. Or, like for Y/N right now, you have to work all day, every day because your crappy minimum wage job is severely understaffed and, even though they treat you horribly, you offer to pick up more shifts. 

  Y/N, right now, wasn’t too pleased with her status as a Pogue. Not when she is standing here, bored out of her mind and swaying on her feet as the middle aged Kook rambled on and on about something. Y/N wasn’t too sure what she was complaining about, truthfully, she stopped listening after the woman called her an incompetent child - which was the very first thing that came out of her pink smeared lips. 

  All she could actually focus on was how heavy her eyelids were, or how much she wanted to cut her feet off or just rip them right from her body. Or the dull ache that nestled itself right in the dip of her spine. Or how much she wishes she could just smash her kneecaps because, at this point, they were so tired and sore they were basically numb. It had been five days straight of her leaving school the second it was over and having her boyfriend, JJ, drive her to her work (a small hardware store), and then working to close. 

  She was exhausted, but she was falling behind on her road to buying a reliable car. Not the heap of rusted metal that has been sitting in her driveway for the past few months - completely broken. Luckily, because the owners did not want the possibility of being sued, they refused to let her work this weekend. That meant, once this woman was done with her tantrum, Y/N could get out of there and sleep for the foreseeable future. Well, at least until JJ had to get up for his shift delivering groceries tomorrow afternoon. She just hoped today wasn’t the one day JJ was late to pick her up. 

  “Mark my words, because you all know nothing, I will never come back here,” The lady slammed her hand against the counter Y/N stood at, the newly hired cashier shaking slightly behind her. “And I will be in contact with your manager and owner for reimbursement for any bills that come from this.” She sneered, gesturing to the empty bottle of antifreeze that was specifically made for diesel engines. That she put in her Land Rover. 

  “You have a nice night, the owner and manager will both be in after nine tomorrow morning.” Y/N drawled like a robot, ignoring the huff and snarky comment the woman made towards her for her lack of respect. There was no way in hell Y/N was apologising to her when Y/N and the manager were the ones who told the woman and her husband not to get that antifreeze, but her husband just wouldn’t listen. 

  “And I am telling them about your horrible behaviour towards me-” 

  “Ma’am,” Their night manager appeared from one of the aisles, looking annoyed. The clock had ticked by to read five minutes after close, meaning this woman was standing there ranting for over ten minutes. “We closed five minutes ago, if you have an issue, you can call and discuss this with our head manager and the owner tomorrow, but now you need to leave unless you want to front the money to pay us the overtime you are causing us because we won’t get paid.” He told her, pointing her towards the exit.

  She scoffed. “Of course I won’t pay you people to be incompetent at your jobs. I mean, how hard is it to sell people items? If anything, I should be getting money for you people for the damages you caused to my expensive Land Rover-”

  “Again, ma’am, you will have to bring that up with the people with more power than me,” The manager looked completely exhausted and annoyed with this woman. He grabbed the empty bottle from where she left it. “Now, you can either leave on your own or I will be contacting the authorities and they will remove you from the premises and you will be banned.” 

  He held out the empty bottle just before she snatched it, her nose turned up as she scoffed, turning on her heel and leaving out the door. “Okay, you two go, I will lock everything up.” He waved them off. Smiling thankfully, Y/N grabbed her thin sweater (which was JJ’s) and her empty plastic bottle of water, tossing it in the recycling bin.

  “Thank you, Gerry. Have fun tomorrow.” She waved bye to him as the new cashier trailed quietly behind her. Pulling the hoodie over her head, she left through the same door the woman had, seeing her fancy silver audi sitting in the parking lot. From inside, she could see her phone pressed to her ear as she yelled. 

  “Hey, sweets,” JJ greeted her, pushing off from the wall he leaned on. Y/N smiled, saying a quick ‘see you’ to the quiet girl as she bounded over towards her mother’s car. Her feet not moving, she held her arms open for JJ, signalling she wanted a hug. JJ complied, striding the short distance to her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Naturally, her arms rested on his shoulders, enjoying the relief and comfort his hug brought her. It was like every ache in her body left and the weight that was crushing her lifted. “Long night?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

  She hummed. “Long week.” She corrected him, snuggling into his chest. He laughed lightly, not wanting to jostle her as she clung to him. 

  “As much as I would love to stay here hugging, we should really get you some food then to bed.” JJ started to pull away. Whining, she released him, the growling and uncomfortable feeling in her stomach too persistent to ignore, but her face remained planted into his chest. 

  “Carry me to the bike?” Her voice was muffled as she spoke. 

  “Sorry, sweets, the bike needs gas and I don’t get paid until next week.” He informed her, hands on her shoulders and pulling her face from his chest, just enough for him to see her face. Instantly, he was met by a pout and a whine from her. 

  She blinked at him, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “But I’m too tired to walk, JJ.” She told him. And looking at her, he could see she was. The eye Bags under her eyes were so deep that the concealer couldn’t even hide them. Her shoulder drooped so much it looked like she was lugging a bookbag that weighed fifty tons on them. And, not to mention, the way her eyes blinked lazily, looking a second away from closing in slumber. 

  Aside from her appearance, he could tell over the past few days she was completely exhausted. The way she kept falling asleep on his shoulder at lunch or as they skipped their respective classes in favour of cuddles. She only skipped classes when she wasn’t sleeping properly or she was bored. The way she was extra clingy (like right now). Or how she nearly face-planted into her breakfast this morning. “I know, Sweets. But the bike didn’t even have enough gas to drive here.” 

  Sighing, tears welled in her eyes. A mixture of exhaustion and stress filled her, creating tears. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to waste all that gas driving me here and back home.” She weeped, sniffling as she blinked frantically. 

  JJ, nearly shitting himself at the sight of tears, jumped out of his skin in fright. “No, no, Sweets. Don’t cry,” He shushed, wrapping her up in his arms so tight her eyes could pop out of their sockets (not really because he would never hurt her). She sniffled into his sweater, tears hitting his sweater. “I didn’t waste gas driving you. I can never waste anything when it comes to you. I let the tank get that low, it’s my fault. I thought I had enough but John B hit a pothole the other day and I needed to go help him change the tire, that’s where the gas went. It’s all John B's fault for being on the mainland and driving like an idiot.” He rocked them from side to side until the tears slowed and the sniffles seemed to quiet down.

  “John B made you drive all the way to the mainland to help him change the tire?” She asked, pulling her face from his chest, but his arms didn’t let go over her, keeping her pressed to him. Her eyes were watery and puffy, a red tinge to the whites of her eyes. Her face was puffy and blotchy, trails of dried tears running down her cheeks. 

  JJ nodded, moving his arms to grip her face, thumbs lightly rubbing the tear streaks. “Yeah. And the idiot also decided to take everything except the jack out of the van so we had to go get a lug nut wrench which ate up more gas.” 

  “He never learns his lesson, does he?” She laughed. It was wet, her mouth thick from the tears still. 

  “No, he doesn’t,” He whispered, his voice low as he stared at her. “Now, let’s get you home before you fall asleep standing here,” He stepped back, putting distance between them. She watched with furrowed brows as he turned his back to her, crouching down, practically kneeling on the sidewalk in front of the store. “Hop up.” He told her, arms to his side, stuck towards her slightly, waiting for her to climb onto his back. 

  “JJ,” She exclaimed. “You’re not going to be able to carry me all the way to John B’s!” 

  “Yeah I can. I’m eighteen, not eighty,” He told her, pointing to his back. Sighing, she knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. On top of that, he would find another way to carry her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she hopped onto his back. His hands instantly gripped the bottom of her thighs, securing her there and he stood up to his full height. She let out a small squeal at the sudden change in height, kicking her feet slightly at the feeling of them not being on the ground. It always took her a second to get used to being held on his back. “And even when I’m eighty, I am sure as hell gonna still give you piggy back rides.” 

  “Sure, we’ll revisit that when you are hunched over because you gave me so many piggy back rides now.” She laughed, her arms lazily moving to rest closer to his neck, her chin resting on her bicep as he started to walk towards John B’s. 

  “Why do you think I am in such great shape? I am training to carry you around my whole life.” 

  “If that’s the case, might want to lay off the weed and the booze.” She poked him in the pectoral teasingly. He squeezed her thigh playfully back, laughing as she pressed a kiss to his cheek the best she could before resting her head back on her arm, letting the pattern of JJ’s gate relax her, her eyes growing heavier by the second. She really did hope that when they were eighty, they didn’t lose any of their playfulness - no matter if JJ could carry her or not.

[bomberqueen17]

who let me out

Most of the time I spend on Tumblr has been taken up in writing these Aubreyad book recaps so I haven't been talking about my own life but there's not a lot to say.

However!

I am making a voyage to England next week which is extremely exciting, and yes I'm going to see the museum exhibit about that archaeology dig I was so excited about. I have been so stressed lately that I have barely thought about this and in fact last night I finally was like "do i need like. socks n underwear for this trip. idek." and i haven't even looked at weather reports so I don't know what clothes I need. But I did live in the UK for a while once so I'm fairly confident that my good raincoat and new waterproof boots will be a good start towards an autumn wardrobe.

So I hope to talk about that more, coming up.

Meanwhile, rambling about personal life stuff

The last stint at the farm was so fucking stressful. I had to work the market sometimes, which means a full day of work on Saturday. We had so much work to get through, and several people who help us weren't available, so we had to do it all ourselves, and that meant some ten-hour days, meant some exhausting slogs. At the end I was like "do you know what I'm not going to do while I'm on vacation?" "no, what" "ever touch raw chicken." I singlehandedly had to package like 1000 pounds of raw chicken in two days, after having packaged 200 whole chickens the day before. I was just so tired of the way raw cold chicken feels in my hands. Ugh ugh ugh.

I got so stressed I just wasn't sleeping, which sucked. Oh, I'd get into bed, and I'd fall asleep at my normal time-- usually around 10pm-- and then I'd wake up at 2am and that was it, I was up for the day. I tried various things-- went to bed at 9, woke up at 1-- lay there pretending to sleep-- got up and wrote-- got up and walked around-- one night I watched the entirety of the Master & Commander movie from 2003 on YouTube. Why not! I did remember some of it from 20 years ago, how funny.

(My dad liked that movie. His favorite thing to do during movies was to quibble about historical inaccuracies. But this movie had so much fanservice for reenactors in it that he was quietly delighted. His quibble was that the violin and cello duets were too good, they should've recorded amateurs. He had a point.)

Anyway. I was researching various methods of helping one sleep-- the only one at my disposal was weed gummies and I spent one very miserable night just lying there high and bored and not sleeping and wasn't totally sober when morning came and that fucking sucked. I commute on foot or I never would have risked it, but being very slightly still high and exhausted and trying to do repetitive physical work was really, really dispiriting.

but we got everything done. In the end. And I left. And once I got home I went to sleep and I have not had really any appreciable trouble sleeping since. I can even nap, sometimes!

Heck.

One of the things I'd meant to take care of while I was at the farm was that of course on my birthday, my fucking driver's license expired. On the one hand, thank you DMV, it used to be that everyone's license expired on the same day, so you'd have to go wait in massive lines to get it dealt with. Now it's... not evenly distributed exactly, because people's birthdays are a random distribution, but it's a perfectly logical and reasonable way to organize expiration dates. But it meant that in the midst of this exhausting miserable stint of work when I didn't have time to do anything really fun for my birthday (don't cry for me, my mom made me a cake and my BIL bought me ice cream treats) I also was consumed with angst about needing to renew my license. i was so sure they'd yell at me because I hadn't renewed before it expired-- but they wanted me to do an eye test, and I could not, could not coordinate that, I'm overdue for an optometrist appointment by several years and I just could not fucking make it happen.

So I went to the DMV yesterday and was like "i both want to renew this license and upgrade it to the enhanced version since that will be required for planes soon" and they were like "we need both your passport and your social security card and two proofs of residency." and i was like you need the social security card and proof of residency to get the passport. and they were like yeah but we need all four things too. so I went back home with the form and found the various necessary proofs, but then I was able to make an appointment to go back. Great!

(They say, "make an appointment online!" but if you look up the DMV website there's nowhere to do it, and if you go to the website of that branch of the DMV there's nowhere to do it. Want to know why? Because it's not through the DMV it is through the county clerk's office. Now U Know: Go to the county clerk's office and navigate to their section on the DMV. It's separate! Who fuckin knew! Now you do! [In my case this was erie.gov because that is my county, but it may vary for you and if you are not in new york state i have no advice for you.]

All having an appointment means is that you are in a separate queue to be seen, which is likely faster than the general pool but may not be. Still, I thought it was a good idea.

And then it was early for my appointment and I was getting my shit together and I had my social security card and an old W-2 with my address and social security number and my old license with my address on it and for some reason I thought I could use my checkbook but that's not what they mean by a cancelled check but whatever. I had just a random pile of shit. And

where was my passport

where is my passport?

i'd had it in my pocket but i was sure i'd removed it from the pocket and put it into my purse. but it wasn't in my purse. "did you see it inside the house," asks dude patiently, who also is prone to losing shit and who knows me very well. "I don't know," I have to answer. "I remember putting it in my purse and it isn't there." I search the place I put my purse a thousand times, I go through the desk where I was sitting to collect the other proofs but i knew, I knew I had not brought it in there. Time is slipping away, I will miss my appointment. God time is slipping away and I can't find the thing. I ransack the house. I finally run out to the car, did I leave it on the seat in the car? It is not in the car.

In desperation, as it is fully time to leave the house and I will be late if I don't, I gather up all my other papers and go out to the car. "I will just go," I say, "and ask them, did they find it, because that is the last place I am absolutely sure I had it." Because the woman had looked at it to see if I had my social security card between the pages. And she'd handed it back to me. But my memory is such that the rest of what I did is not certain; I remember taking it, I remember putting it into my pocket, but this might be a story I am telling myself. This is the way in which I am a very good liar, because I do not remember things very well, and my well-honed abilities as a storyteller mean I am very, very good at instantly constructing what it would make the most sense to have done, and telling that story even to myself. But. here's the horrible truth: i don't know if it really happened that way. Many things I have witnessed, important things, I remember the story of but I'm not entirely certain they happened that way. Any story I tell may be fictionalized, and I usually dont' know it.

So anyway.

Got out to my car and there on the ground in the road (I am parked in the street) there is my passport lying next to the driver's side door of the car. When I had checked the car earlier, I had only gone to the near side, the passenger side, and looked in the window. It had never occurred to me that my memory of putting it into my purse might have been me just setting it on my purse and it not going in, which is clearly one hundred percent what happened.

So that was. A fucking wild ride, and I did not cry but only because I was too overwhelmed. I made it to the appointment and I could not hear the very nice clerk very well so I kept nodding at her in blank incomprehension and then not doing what she'd asked me to do. But this is the thing-- if you think of the most brutally competent people on the entire face of the planet Earth you might be tempted to imagine like, IDK, Marines or something, but that would be wrong, it is the clerks at the DMV. They will Get It Done, whatever the fuck it is, and they will NOT put up with your shit, but they will also not be mean to you. They will not usually waste time in smiles or gratuitous displays of humanity, but they are never cruel, they are implacable and pitiless but they are fair and they will help you and they will not smile about it but they will tell you which option to tick off on the form so that you don't have to pay a bunch of extra money, and they will be understatedly kind if you are frightened, and they will calmly and impassively repeat their instructions until they penetrate your uncomprehending skull, and you will get what you need to get because this is deadly serious and they are the kind of bureaucrat that actually make the world go round. It is not sunshine and rainbows but it will absolutely get done even if it takes months and years.

Anyway there's some kind of divinity in low-level bureaucrats who actually have to talk to frightened people, I tell you what.

The only time my clerk smiled at me was when I didn't hear her and she had to repeat that the screen was asking me if I wanted to register to vote, which is an automatic part of all their transactions. "Oh, no," I said, "I'm already registered," and she said "then press no," and I said "I do really appreciate the reminder though," and she smiled at that.

(They also ask you to enroll as an organ donor. NYS is an opt-in state, and many people just don't opt in; opt-out states have much higher enrollment for obvious reasons. Please opt in unless your religion or beliefs proscribe it! There are never enough organs and your grieving family will almost never remember to opt you in at the moment of extremity. You could save so many lives, and improve so many others. This PSA brought to you by someone who spent the pandemic lockdown in the home of a member of the local hospital's liver transplant team, who was so busy because all the New York hospitals had shut down their transplant facilities in order to turn the ventilators over to Covid patients, so everyone in New York who was getting a liver was getting it in Rochester. From my guy's team. So it was a stressful time. But I am successully re-enrolled as an organ donor. I am quite sure I already was one but the only two options were Yes or No so I checked Yes.)

Anyway I have so much to do and am so burned-out that I'm repeatedly getting stuck staring at things in odd rooms, so. We'll see how this goes. I have five days left to get ready for this trip wish me luck.

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hey!!

(I saw your fairy girlfriend last week, I think. I'd recognize that snooty accent anywhere, and she looked angry. My condolences to whoever she's arguing with)

So, changelings! It seems that stealing children from their cribs never gets old, and if my parents didn't notice that their little baby suddenly had a mouth full of teeth from one morning to the next, then, well, they were begging for it.

You see, I'm not a person from the past, but lately I keep thinking about the child who was traded for me. I wonder how different it must have been to grow up human in a world of creatures, and whether it was as strange as growing up a changeling in such a sapio-normative world.

I keep thinking about a girl with lily hair and the right amount of teeth in her mouth, irredeemably human, despite her upbringing.

I know no one keeps humans as pets anymore, so I like to think she had a good childhood, unlike mine. For a while, thinking about it seemed enough.

Not anymore.

I feel like I'm rambling here, but I don't know how to explain it any other way than this: I was swapped for a child and never thought much about her. Today, I think about her every day.

I would like to find her. Does she still look like me? Or rather, do I still look like her? Or did the magic flow away like water? Or were we never alike to begin with? There are many questions and few answers, so I come to ask you for help.

Or to your irascible fairy girlfriend.

Where do I find the person I was meant to be?

(And if I find her, how the hell am I supposed to act?)

First of all, reader, kindly refrain from making comments about my personal life, the people with whom I might share that life, and the terminology we may or may not use to describe that relationship.

Secondly, I feel I must remind you that not all reclaimed slurs are acceptable to all members of the community they describe. In short: call her an “f-word” again, and there will be consequences.

Despite your quite astonishing lack of manners, I have chosen to respond to your question because I think it speaks to a very common feeling among people who were the subject of infant substitution.

It's easy to get fixated imagining your “other self” – the child who, were it not for an almost arbitrary choice made by your biological parents, would have grown up in your place.

However, I am not sure I understand what you hope to gain by reaching out to this person. Please understand, your sudden presence in their life has the potential to be extremely disruptive.

She is more than just your erstwhile template; she is her own person, with her own life and her own feelings and ideas about the way she was raised. I see no reason why you should feel entitled to impose yourself on her for your own whims.

Instead, I encourage you to consider what it is you feel this reconnection would achieve. You say you've never thought much about her in the past. I wonder if there is some reason you've suddenly developed an interest.

Perhaps there has been a change of circumstance in your personal or professional life which has left you feeling disconnected and uncertain of your place in the world. Perhaps you've encountered some new feelings of self-doubt, and are seeking some way to reassure yourself.

Or perhaps you are simply bored. Whatever the underlying cause, none of these are good reasons for inserting yourself into this woman's life.

Take some time to ascertain what might be causing this new obsession. I feel quite sure your rumination on your substitute is a symptom of something else. Get to the root of the issue and handle the matter from there – and leave this poor woman alone.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[wardsbackpoet]

THE MUSIC YOU HAVE IN TWEEKS PLAYLIST IS SO 🤭🤭🤭 LIKE IVE NEVER MET ANYONE THAT KNEW BLOOD FOR BLOOD

I honestly don't remember when I discovered Blood for Blood, but I think I might have my former boss (he'd get annoyed and say he wasn't my 'boss' 'cause he doesn't like 'bosses and never wanted to have nor be one; For context, he wasn't really my boss, I was self-employed, but working at his tattoo shop) / fill-in father-figure for a bit, a longtime friend of mine, to thank for that. That man is honestly 100% self-made and has an ethic and ethos I can really look up to and respect. We're also both into Madball, and I recently went to one of their shows. He couldn't go, due to ongoing cancer treatments.

Me and another friend of my former boss (actually, the co-owner of that shop I was working at), spoke with the band, got them all to sign a shirt for him and we brought it to his house the next day. He was super touched. Great group. We'd only asked one band member to sign as the rest were busy packing up gear, and he suggested he could go and get the rest to add their autographs, we were super grateful.

Also, I 100% get that frustration of never meeting anyone who likes/knows what you like and know. When I was a teen, the definition of 'hardcore' had slipped, and to me, it was still bands like Blood for Blood, Madball, Biohazard, Agnostic Front, Fugazi originating from the movement started by 7 Seeconds, Minor Threat, Black Flag, Sick of it All, etc. I saw Terror (which I like) as like, the band bridging how I defined hardcore to how kids of my generation defined it.

To the kids around me, it was this stuf with like, a lot of 'Woah-oh-oohs', in the midst of screaming. My whole view of it was 'it's a'ight, but that's not my scene', and I was often disappointed (and eventually disillusioned) when kids were like, "oh, I like hardcore too!". Over the years, my follow-up question changed from an enthusiastic "Oh awesome! Wanna go to a show? Wanna obsess about this Bad Brains album with me" to a bored, "Oh yeah? So like, what bands?" To which I'd hear Stick to your guns, Underoath, Silverstein or whatever else was popular at that time.

I ran into the same problem with kids saying they liked punk too. They weren't talking about Discharge or Subhumans, or Thulsa Doom, or Conflict, Descendants or NOFX. They meant The Used and Blink182, Rise Against and whatnot. I was utterly confused and felt born 20 years too late for real.

I was just...well, I longed for a more precise vocabulary to become more widely-used so I'd stop getting my hopes up/getting frustrated about the fact we really weren't talking about the same thing. I was a teenaged musical elitist, yup. A real fuckin' snob. I'm more open-minded today but it was disappointing and disheartening, only really finding like-minded musical peers among people at least a decade older than I was.

So, in contrast, meeting people who actually liked what I liked was always so exciting and felt really validating at a time when I felt as though there was always a barrier to being understood by my peers, and to connecting with them on a less than superficial level.

You didn't ask for that full analysis and I regret having overthought and rambled, but I typed it so you're getting it, I guess. Sorry?

& Thanks for reading the fic & I promise to update soon. Life's just been kicking my ass recently but it's okay, 'cause I just remembered I can kick back.

Also, I just realized maybe I rambled so much because the upcoming chapter explores some of those themes with Tweek finding it hard to find common ground with kids his age as well. So, maybe?

Anyways. THANKS FOR READING IT AND BEING PATIENT ON UPDATES.

& HMU if ever you wanna chat music or whatever else.

[possumsandprose]

Elriel Part 2: Love Language

Hey all,

Back atcha with more fanfiction. This one is pretty short, but I love it. I'm definitely most excited for Solstice, and I hope y'all are looking forward to all the fanfiction still to come. Hope you enjoy my take on Elain and Azriel's language of love.

TW: None

Word count: 1.2K

Azriel walked in, tired and grumpy. He had just finished a mission, which usually meant he would make a beeline straight for bed, and sleep until his shadows reminded him that he had responsibilities, and the cycle would repeat. As he entered his room at the townhouse, a strange scent came to him. Jasmine and honey. Elain lived in the townhouse too, he knew, however why had she been in his room? And then he looked to his desk, and amidst all the paperwork and stationery, he saw it.

It was a single white lily flower. It was gorgeous, and seemed almost to glow. And it bore her scent strongly. She must have left it there while he was away. He knew that she had been growing lilies out in the garden, and he had listened to her talk about them for hours on end. And although he didn't care about flowers, there was something about talking with Elain that just made him at complete ease. Around her, his shadows seemed to fade, sensing that there was no danger or darkness present, because Elain's mere existence drove away whatever evil or misery was nearby. He picked up the lily, and found a small note tied to the stem. Come and meet me in the archway. It was in Elain's elegant handwriting, and based on the dampness of the ink, she had written it not all that long ago. He knew the archway she was referring to, a lovely thing at the entrance of the garden that was covered in roses.

Elain had worked hard to get it that way, Az was sure, and maintained it very well. He looked out of his window and saw it, the gorgeous crimson flowers amidst the sea of dark green leaves. Behind it was a circular walkway, paved with little stepping stones. Benches surrounded it, and in the middle was an ornate fountain, with sky blue water flowing from the statue of a naiad in the centre. And there, hurrying along the path, past the columns covered in wisteria and bushels of hydrangeas, was Elain, wearing a pale pink dress with a white cardigan over top. She reached the fountain, and sat at the edge. She waits for you, his shadows whispered in his ear, she wishes to speak with you. Do not leave her waiting.

Az knew better than to mess up this chance he'd been given, either by the gods or the Mother or whoever dwelt up in the clouds. He winnowed out onto the lawn, and walked briskly towards her. As she sensed his arrival, she looked up, and smiled at him, shifting over so he could take a seat. Az was shocked. Why was she being so nice to him, after what had happened on Solstice? He took a seat next to her, albeit tentatively.

"Hello Elain. How have you been?" He asked politely, hoping she didn't notice his shadows were now playing in her hair and in the folds of her dress, deliberately ignoring his commands to return for the first time ever.

"I've been well. The garden has kept me busy, as well as all the wonderful things here in life. Nyx has been growing, I've learned new recipes, new things to craft, and I've even taken up weaving as of late. But that's not why I wanted you to come. I wanted to...to speak with you. And to give you these." Elain held out a small bouquet of gorgeous white lilies, just like the one he'd received on his desk.

"I know what happened on Solstice, Rhys told Feyre and she told me. I do not hold it against you. And the lilies have been blooming wonderfully as of late, so I thought...I thought you might like them, they're a nice spot of colour, and I know they're very popular in the Night Court and-" she was rambling now, Azriel assumed out of nerves, and he did something he never in a million years thought he would do. He leaned forward and shut her up with a kiss.

He pulled back quickly, worried she might not have wanted it, that he had ruined whatever olive branch she had been extending to him.

"Elain, I-" he began, wondering what he could possibly say. But he didn't need to. Elain leaned forward and kissed him back. Azriel decided that if he died right there, right then, he would die a happy male, because he had kissed Elain Archeron. He had had his fair share of lovers over the centuries, some whom he'd enjoyed more than others, but all paled in comparison to her. Even his long-standing crush on Mor was nothing on what he felt for her. She slid onto his lap, and they kissed for seconds, minutes, hours, days, Az had no idea, it all seemed a blur. All he knew was that he could never get enough of her, of kissing her, of loving her.

Eventually she pulled back, panting slightly, lips red and swollen from kisses.

"I love you Azriel," she said, "and that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you that I chose you, I choose you, I will forever choose you, and, if you will have me, I wish to be with you."

Az was sure he must have been dreaming. His heart hadn't sang that much since the first time he'd flown 500 years ago. But it was real, the woman he loved was here, sitting on his lap, saying that she wanted him.

"Yes. I love you too, very much so. I choose you, if you will have me," he said, earning a beaming smile from Elain, and he decided that he would die to make her smile like that again. He set his hand down, and they brushed the lilies.

"These lilies...do they have a special meaning to you?" he asked, because something about her gift seemed like a special language of love, even beyond her willingness to give the thing she'd spent so long growing.

"Yes. Back when mama was alive and we were still all together, my father used to bring my mother lilies at least once a week. It was the flower they had at their wedding, and he used to bring them to her as a sign of their love. I always thought it was very touching."

"Indeed, that is...so very, very special. I'm honoured you would share this with me." And he was. It meant the world to him that she'd shared this personal aspect about herself, carrying on this tradition. That night, when Elain had retired for the night and he was back in his chambers, curled into bed, he looked at the delicate white blossoms, illuminated in the moonlight from the window, and smiled. He slept better than he ever had before, now that he had a token of Elain's love to keep him company.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! It's one of my personal headcanons that Elain will give Azriel her favourite flower if their book becomes canon. Also, shoutout to my bestie, I won't tag you for privacy's sake but you know who you are, for the inspiration on the lily idea.

Please like or comment if you enjoyed, and have a wonderful time celebrating our favourite seer and shadowsinger!

Taglist:

@elriel-month

[plural-affirmations]

Hi again,

I'm actually very much able to converse with my headmates, just meant that it'd be nice to be able to talk to people other than my headmates about all of this. Also just haven't figured out what the right words to describe us are, and certainly haven't become comfortable using them lol.

Either way, might be good to introduce who we have here? If it's not yet obvious, I don't entirely know what I'm doing. Going to avoid names for the sake of anonymity, which admittedly is going to make this annoying.

First of all, there's me. I'm pretty sure it's correct to refer to me as the host and core? I'm the only one who's controlled the body (so far). Then there's my headmates - there's currently three of them, all of them dragons.

The eldest I'm pretty sure is willogenic? I was bored while shopping and decided to imagine a little dragon following me, and then she was there. Comforted me when I got stressed later that day, and basically has been doing that since (minus two separate occasions where I forgot about her for a bit). If I remember correctly, the His Dark Materials series influenced me to even try that, and also shaped how I thought about her in the beginning. She's been the most active one generally (which I do feel a bit bad for, like I'm playing favourites?).

The other two I am significantly less able to classify in any way. For both of them, there was some sort of… presence? It's realy hard to describe, but there was some feeling for a few days before they arrived, which they did suddenly? It's really hard to describe, especially working only from memory.

Happened two separate times obviously, both times in periods where I was stressing about upcoming events, the more recent actually being in the process of composing the original ask I wrote lol.

Either way, desperately hoping I'm not oversharing lol. If I used any words wrong or there any others that you think might be useful please do tell me. Hope you're having a good day either way, thanks for reading my ramblings.

-⚪🐉

Ah, my apologies for misunderstanding! I've kind of been doing that a lot lately >_<"

Also, the terminology varies quite a lot! For example, "core" has quite a loaded meaning in my opinion. The concept of an "original" alter doesn't really exist in DID/OSDD-1 due to the way alters initially form (if you put any stock into the Theory of Structural Dissociation, anyways. That's a whole other can of worms I won't get into unless someone asks though 💀).

However! DID/OSDD-1 certainly aren't the only plural experience, and I think in your case with most likely being willogenic, it's totally ok to call yourself that. I mean, it'd be fine to call yourself that regardless, but you hopefully know what I mean.

Agh, sorry for rambling! Back to the first topic:

Thank you for sharing your experiences with us!! We think it's super cool to see how other multiples perceive the world, and what they think about their life/lives.

I see you mentioned stress being a contributing factor though... have you considered traumagenic or stressgenic? Both are worth looking into if you haven't considered it. Even if you come out on the other end deciding you aren't either of those, I think experimenting with labels is healthy and facilitates self exploration. There's also mixed origins, which is what we are! You're not limited to just one option!

But, again, this is just my dumbass opinion, and all I am is about 100 dudes in a trenchcoat. (/lh)

Sorry this was all over the place, it's 2:00 in the morning here, but this is the first chance I've had to sit down and sift through my inbox without interruption.

Thanks for understanding! I wish you luck!

🖤💜💙💚💛

[tequatls-favorite-spoon]

man i gotta figure out what to do with juyun :/ he’s one of my absolute fave ocs but his gw2 version is kinda boring which makes me sad! also here is a couple pics of him bc i know that helps me to remember what character ppl are talking about lol

so like, og juyun is the god of beauty in his world, and him being a literal god while eless is Just Some Guy, is something i try to keep the vibe of in most aus i make. so eless is a charr, and i made her from the olmakhan bc her family, and her decision to leave her family, is also important to her character. meanwhile, juyun is a norn in the order of whispers. and like, that’s all i gave him?? and like, there is the fact that he’s from mainland tyria and eless has been relatively isolated her whole life, that sort of fits their dynamic, but i want juyun to be more special 🥺 he’s my special little beautiful boy 🥺

so like, i have three ideas rn. i ended up rambling a bit, so here’s a quick list: juyun becomes aurenes champion/branded by aurene, juyun is actually a saltspray dragon, or juyun is an avatar of lyssa (could also be an avatar of a spirit of the wild, but idk which one)

the rest of my thoughts and rambles are below the cut

first is that he gets branded by aurene. the vibes fit him SO well, like god!juyun literally has opalescent skin, so aurene crystals are sooooo perfect for him. the issue tho, is idk why he’d be branded. like, i could go the route of him being aurene’s champion, but then i’d have to figure out who the commander is. i wouldn’t want it to be onyx cuz they’re from different stories for me? so it’s like. they shouldn’t know each other. having eless be the commander would be So Good, bc that lets me have them interact a LOT and i Love Them. but then i have to deal with the fact that she’s from elona so idk how she’d get to mainland tyria at the right time to become the commander :/ like, it could work? but it would almost be easier to make her from the legions, and that doesn’t feel right to me…

my second idea is that juyun could be a saltspray dragon! i like this bc the color scheme and vibes fit him really well, and bc he’s literally meant to be (half?) korean, so him having a direct link to cantha is cool. like, norn can be asian and stuff, but it’s mostly just looks at that point? anyway, the issues i run into here is that idk if all saltspray dragons can shapeshift? like there’s kuunavang/navan obvi, but idk about the others? and i don’t know a ton about the saltspray dragons in general, tho i think that’s just bc there’s not a lot to know? i also then have to decide if he left cantha, bc if he didn’t, then he and eless meet WAY late in the story. and if he DID leave, then i gotta figure out how, when, and why he did.

my last idea is that maybe he’s like. an avatar or something? i thought about him being linked to one of the spirits of the wild, but idk what one it would be, yknow? but then he could be an avatar of one of the six? like, he is sooo similar to lyssa! he’s literally a mesmer and i already associate him with illusions, glamours, and masks. the only issue here is that idk why he’d be here. like. i looked into avatars on the wiki a lil bit, but i still feel like i don’t know enough >:/

honestly, i think both the saltspray dragon and avatar ideas are stopped only by the fact that i don’t feel like i know enough. i think a lot of that is cuz i didn’t play gw1? (technically i played the free trial cuz my cousin played it, but that doesn’t really count) then again, i could always just. make stuff up. i can fill in blanks with whatever hand-wavey stuff i want! except that i’m rly indecisive lol and i like having characters like this be as canon-compliant as possible :(

returning to juyun as aurenes champion though, i think it might work the best? like, eless could have left the olmakhan and elona during the personal story. maybe juyun does the like, 10-50 story, and then eless shows up as part of the priory? and eless becomes the commander, and juyun is just like, there to help out. and then with lws2, maybe they split up? so juyun goes after the egg, while eless does something else? then again they don’t need to split up i think, cuz aurene could still just choose juyun.

so like, i think champion!juyun would be the easiest to figure out, but then his ‘special-ness’ takes a while to happen. saltspray!juyun gives him ties to cantha, but idk if it makes sense for there to be another saltspray dragon that can transform, and that he’d want to look like a norn. avatar!juyun is the most similar to his og version, but idk a lot about the gods and their avatars, and it being so similar might be a lil boring.

mm i think i might be leaning towards champion tbh, with saltspray dragon coming in second for now

[swiftiesneversaydie]

Let me just ramble here. Something that I truly truly love about Taylor’s music is that you can truly find a way to identify with it. Even if it’s not for you at that very moment. Reputation has ALWAYS been my favorite album. When it came out I had been with my now husband for 8 years and been married for 1. But it immediately took me back to when I fell in love with him. He saw me and he saved me. Delicate is my favorite song because it’s the exact story of how my husband and I got together. Everything was so delicate and I was terrified but we took the leap and now we are here. Gorgeous was the entirety of the lead up to us actually going from friends to more. And as much as I would love to say that our relationship and marriage has been that all along, it hasn’t.

Around the time TTPD came out I made some choices I’m not proud of and won’t try to make sense of here. We were at odds about what we wanted out of life, I was unhappy in my job, feeling resentful of things I had allowed to go on but never explicitly said I wasn’t fine with, and I felt like settling a score. I’ve been with the same person for over half my life. There are pros and cons to that. I started getting attention elsewhere in March and it felt really nice— and wrong. I didn’t know what to do or how to stop it and it got away from me fast. My husband was not stupid. He knew something wasn’t right. He could tell I wasn’t myself but I was too caught up in being resentful — oh YOURE allowed to have friends and I’m not??— to confide in him that I was in so over my head. My husband finally put his foot down in late April/early May. Demanded I talk to him; tell him the truth, let’s work this out. It was cathartic telling him the messy truth. I’m not and wasn’t proud of myself for getting myself into that situation. It was wrong and if the shoes were on the other feet I would not have been as forgiving as my husband was. But he was. He’s never thrown it in my face. Never told me he was disappointed in me. Never. He stood by me. Everyone who knew us well, knew that we were going through something but my husband never let me take the blame. Just that we hit a rough patch and were working through it together. And we did. I ended up pregnant by the end of May. I know children are not bandaids and I never ever wanted to have a “make up” baby. But I don’t think that’s what she is. She saved me. She saved our marriage because her daddy believed in us. She (and my husband) made the sexual harassment stop. And I can acknowledge now that even if I didn’t discourage it outright, that’s what was happening. I’m so grateful my husband never once gave up on me. So anyways, guilty as sin to me took on a new meaning in a way I doubt Taylor ever meant it. At the beginning she’s talking about being bored and in a cage and how she’s not wrong because of bad thoughts but by the end she says “what if I roll the stone away?” (For me coming clean and being honest with myself and my husband how bad things were) and then “I choose you and me, religiously” and for me it’s about falling apart, then coming back together. Choosing your person even when things get tough.

That’s my ramble.

[ajoytobeheld]

Another bandwagon I jumped on too late

June 18th, 2009

I have not inflicted my irreverent ramblings onto this page in a while, and I am sorry for that, it is largely due a disease I have come down with called Twilightitis. It is a rare and troublesome problem which tends to target teenage girls and it has many symptoms, the main affliction being the inability to form coherent thoughts which do not relate to the forbidden love between a klutz and a vampire.

But of course I jest, Twilightitis is neither a real or clever made up disease, instead it is a contagious and stupid obsession with a series of books which has effected my life and the lives of other women I know. Sadly these are intelligent women who have read novels with long words and abstract ideas but somehow they can’t help themselves with the coke like substance that it the absolute twaddle of Stephanie Meyer…

Here are some problems I have with this book, which briefly took, over my life. If you have read the series I would like to hear back how it has effected you and your general existance.

(WARNING CONTAINS SPOILERS, ONE HARRY POTTER SPOILER AND UNSUBSTANTIATED RANTS)

Everytime I purchased the next instalment (like the day after finishing the first one), I would find myself in a book shop desperately searching for the the M bit of the teenage fiction section. I could never find it or bring myself to ask the staff to point out the direction in which it lived due to deep and burning all consuming shame. I felt so dirty because deep down I knew it was just pages of inane dialogue, repeated descriptions and a plot threaded together with ideas from other superior books with a underlying unsubtle message of “sex is bad before marriage you naughty teenagers.” Yet somehow I was addicted to Bella and Edward’s stupid love..

The whole imprinting thing was a little bit dodgy in places, all these grown werewolf men falling in love with 4 year olds was a bizarre sentiment to write about, seemingly made justifiable because they wouldn’t touch them until they were of age, just act like their over friendly uncle for ten years….  That’s not really better.

I found myself joining the facebook group “Twilight give’s me unrealistic expectations of men,” because none of my boyfriends have saved my life a billion times and bought me cars and got me into dartford whilst being able to fly and that.

The message of complete obsession with someone in your first relationship when you are 18 is maybe not a good one to give out to teenagers, particularly the whole “we can’t be together, suicide it is!” parts.

I thought Bella should have just had sex with Jacob or Mike or all of the other guys that fancied her, they could at least have satisfied her hormonal urges without possibly killing her and she could have spread her wild oats about a tiny bit before deciding to get married at 19….they could have put in a slutty interlude. 

I was meant to buy the fact that Edward was a vampire who use to eat people and like a serial killer who knits pictures of kittens, he has the skewed morality to not want to do the naked funky chicken until they were married.

Bella spent most of the novels falling over, wanting to kill herself in place of everyone else and gazing at Edward longingly wondering why he would love someone as plain and boring as her.

I wondered that too.

I Stayed up til four in the morning to get to the sex scene only to discover that in it’s place was a blank space followed by a post-coital waking. In my delirious state I wondered if I had been doing it wrong, or whether he punched her and took advantage.

I just wished Bella would die.

She should really just have died.

In fact they all should have.

Why didn’t the other vampires just tell her to fuck off?

I found myself wondering if Miss Meyer realised that there are only so many times she could describe Edwards perfectly smooth chizzled white chest, and how he traced Bella’s jawline with kisses or ran his fingers through her hair before she may be repeating herself/satisfying herself.

I know there are others who found it good/good instead of good/bad, as I did, but I hope we can all agree the ending was the biggest cop put in the world, with the whole thing building up to a fight to the death and then…. nothing. Everyone goes home. It’s all cool. Not one unnecessary death in the entire thing? Even one of the twins died in Harry Potter? What about Emmet, he did bugger all! Ok, calmed down. Rant ends. I apologize.

p.s

New Moon Trailer!

[system-of-a-feather]

I really sometimes want to post something interesting to this blog; may it be a mental health reminder or some insight or something interesting that happened, but honestly lately our life has been like.... horrifically boring.

People really think living with DID is this super fascinating thing, and it really often isn’t that much more fascinating than an average person. Yeah there are a shit ton of mental breakdowns compared to the average person but also like... thats not really fascinating or interesting? And its like.... all I’m doing is eating fruit loops right now. Not running around I dunno, messing shit up or anything.

I mean, early into having DID and trying to navigate everything, it can be pretty “interesting” to have I guess. Learning about your parts and trying to make things work and navigating the world with this new understanding and perspective is “interesting” but really, as you stabilize more it just gets kind of old and boring and normal.

I really don’t live an “average normal” life. An “average normal person” doesn’t regularly message in a discord full of 12 other accounts all of which they own; nor do they have like a minimum of two complete meltdowns a week. But really, as you get adjusted to living with the disorder and the mindset, a lot of it really really just becomes normal with just a few extra steps.

I have a fiance. I go to school. I go to work. I go to the gym. I play video games. I draw occasionally. I listen to music. I talk to people. I make friends. To do that, is there sometimes more subtle differences that I have to work out? Yes. Do I sometimes have to pull out my phone to message a part about something I can’t remember? Yeah sometimes. Do I magically teleport back from work sometimes? I mean, technically no but yeah it does feel like that sometimes. Is it weird or jarring for me? No, not really anymore.

It’s a bit funny how casual and used to “teleporting” and “timeskipping” I’ve gotten. I don’t really panic when I swear I was just at my computer or when I look at the time to see 4 hours had passed when I thought it was like half an hour. I just go “Oh cool, hope they had a good time” if I don’t recall what was going on and I just go on with my day.

With where we are, we function rather fine and well on a day to day basis of taking care of ourselves, our responsibilities, our relationships, and maintaining how hobbies. If it wasn’t for the fact we all opted to be generally overt (partially because we realized most people don’t assume you have DID anyways), we could easily look like a singlet. 

Most of the work we have is undoing years of abuse emotionally and mentally and trying to actually move forward from trauma and become what we genuinely want to be and not what our trauma makes us be.

I’ve lost track a bit of where I was going with this, but I do remember that the point I wanted to make is that things with DID and living with it gets better. It isn’t a death sentence and over time things will eventually make more sense and just become kind of... normal.

So if any one reading is a newly discovered system or just figuring this out, that’s okay. It might seem like hell now and it might seem like there is no end to it, but do know that you can still live a good and enjoyable life. Do know that things do become more managable and simple and less chaotic. 

You can be happy with this disorder. 

You can and will eventually get to a place of stability eventually. 

You have a lot of potential to heal and grow. 

You aren’t too broken to live the life you want. 

It might take some extra work to get there, but you - just like anyone else - can live a good life and be who you want to be.

-Riku (Host)

[i-cant-sing]

Please yandere v! All might or aizawa as a spooky Christmas ghost?

Christmas Nightmare: Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa

Hey there! Thank you so much for requesting! I had fun writing this. Hope you guys like it! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere! Ghost Shouta Aizawa:

It was 2 days before Christmas. You were on your way home from Home Depot. You had gotten your Christmas tree and decorations. And since you decided to buy it so late, you had to drive out of city to get the tree as those in the city were all sold out. But hey, at least you got a good deal!

Since it was a long drive back home, you had decided to do your grocery shopping too. As you were driving, munching on some chips, you noticed it had started snowing. The snow was covering the trees that were on either side of the road. It was getting dark, and only the lights from your car were illuminating the road.

Of course your old car had to break down. And that too in the middle of nowhere, where there was no cell service either. And you don't remember seeing any cars on your way either. As you were trying to get a signal, you almost didn't see the wooden cabin that was a bit hidden by the trees.

Now you've watched tons of horror movies to know that you should not go there. But it was getting cold, and now you could either die by hypothermia, or you could go there and hope that there is not a serial killer inside.

You chose the latter option. You went to the cabin and knocked a few times. When no one answered, you pushed the heavy wooden door open. In the dark, your hands looked for a light switch. When you found one and switched it on, you looked around the cabin. You appeared to be standing in the living room, there was little furniture, dust had accumulated everywhere. You found the fireplace and fortunately there was still some wooden logs and a matchbox there. You lit the fireplace up and decided to look around. You were surprised to see that the cabin was actually quite big. And it looked like it used to be inhabited by a family; you found some furniture, a few toys and some other stuff. It looked like that the cabin had been abandoned for a quite some time. You looked in the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat, but you found nothing. It was a good idea that you had some snacks to get you to get you by.

You went back to the living room, sitting near the fire. As you were warming up, you looked out the window. It was snowing heavily now. You took your phone out and to your surprise you found a single service bar. You called for help, but the signal kept breaking up, and they managed to tell you that they wouldn't be able to get there as it was snowing too hard; the roads were blocked. Plus, it was Christmas time, nobody is going to want to help you now anyways. You hoped that help or anyone would drive by in the morning.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you heard the sound of someone walking. Heavy footsteps. There's someone inside the cabin.

You sat frozen, waiting for the serial killer to come. However, a few more minutes passed, but no one appeared. Curious, you decided to see who was there. You hoped it would be an animal. But after you had searched the entire cabin, you found no one. Neither an animal, nor a person.

Hm, maybe its a ghost. You thought to yourself. But I should've been able to see one due to my quirk.

Your quirk: Dead Eye, helped you see the dead. You had seen a lot of ghosts, most of them were harmless, and the bad ones usually just wanted to be left alone. That's why you weren't scared of ghosts anymore. People are far scarier really.

Maybe this ghost was just passing by. Or maybe your mind's just playing tricks on you. You were getting tired, so you decided to sleep on the old couch near the fireplace. The warmth lulled you to sleep, not knowing that someone was watching you.

When you woke up the next morning, the fire was almost dying out. You checked your phone a signal, call, message, anything. You looked outside the window, there was snow everywhere. You couldn't even see the road. It didn't look like you were getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. No one is gonna come on Christmas to help you. Which meant you were going to spend Christmas here in the cabin, alone.

Deciding to make the best out of your situation, you got the tree and the decorations out of your car. After you had brought the tree inside, you went to look for some cleaning supplies and cleaned the place up a bit. Once you had done that, you decorated the tree up. You kept on checking if someone was driving by or if you got some service, but you unfortunately didn't. As you were making yourself some dinner, you heard footsteps again. You also heard a door open and shut. And you felt someone creeping up on you. You whipped around and you finally saw the culprit.

"Do you need something?" you asked the pale man with red eyes and black hair. He looked a bit surprised hearing your question. "Well?" you pushed, your own heart pounding. "You can see me?"he asked, confused. "Oh you're a ghost! Yeah, I can see the dead due to my quirk." The man was even more surprised as you introduced yourself to him, not scared at all. "I'm...Aizawa. What are you doing here?" You explained your situation to him, and how you'll be out of his hair the day after Christmas hopefully. You both apologised and thanked him for letting you into his home.

The more you talked the more Aizawa felt happy? It had been so long since he had any sort of conversation, even though it was mostly you talking. It had been too long since he felt happy.

Aizawa apologised too for trying to scare you. He just wanted to be alone, no meddling humans to disturb him from his sleep.

You both kept on talking, you telling some stories and just rambling on, Aizawa just humming and sometimes gave a small smile. You're so adorable. So nice. And warm too.

He loved how you cleaned up his place and decorated the tree. He remembered the good times back when he was alive. And even though he was a villian, he still remembers the cozy days of Christmas he used to spend with his family. Family. The family the betrayed him. The same family he used to do break the law for. The same family that went to the cops to tell on him when they found out what he had been doing to provide for them.

Of course he killed them. He did not regret it one bit. What he did regret though was killing himself after that, thinking that he'd never be able to find love again. When in reality, he was looking right at it. You. Its you. You'll be his love again.

When you woke up on Christmas morning, you went to check your phone but you couldn't find it. You were sure you had it on you. As you were looking around, Aizawa came and wished you a Merry Christmas. You smiled and wished him as well.

Aizawa had brought you some eggs from a nearby bird's nest. You didn't want be rude, so you made them and had your breakfast. You made some small talk, telling him about the world, how advance it has become. But he was really just interested in your life. What do you do for a living? What are your hobbies? How many people know that you're here?

His questions were weird. But you thought that he's just an old ghost, and also has no company; he's just bored.

You were still talking when you heard the sound of a car. You whipped your head to the window and saw a car slowly driving by. Finally. You thought. I'm getting out of here now.

As you went towards the door, hoping that the driver will see you and help you, you suddenly felt something hit your head before you blacked out.

When you woke up, you found yourself in of the bedrooms. Few rays of the moonlight were escaping the boarded window, indicating it was night time. What happened? As events of the morning came rushing back to you, you realised you were in grave danger. You tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge even though there was no lock.

Suddenly, you were thrown to the bed, the mattress squeaking under you. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. You tried to get of the bed, but it was like something was holding you down. You looked at him bewildered.

Aizawa started to explain "I've become attached to you. No. I've fallen in love with you. I know you're not in love with me right now but you will be." He walked towards you "you don't need to worry. I'll figure out a way for us to be together when I kill you. Then we can live here happily ever after." He stroked your hair. You went to kick him but he caught your leg in a tight, painful grip. He gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Now, now. Don't do something you'll regret. You don't wanna be on the naughty list now, do you?"

Hope you guys liked this one! Requests are still open! :)

[angel-riki]

Dazed & Dreaming {Ch. 1}

summary: Y/N's life was always quite normal, some may even consider it boring. However, Y/N enjoyed her simple life and the little pleasures it brought. Unfortunately, that all changed the day she found out her best friend's biggest secret. Her discovery leads her down a rabbit hole of a new and confusing world she never knew existed. She must now navigate this new life filled with love, fear, and the supernatural. What awaits her down this path?

pairing: enhypen x reader (vampire au)

warnings: light swearing

word count: 1,435

chapters: [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4]

~~~~~~~~~~

The brisk autumn air pricked at your cheeks, making you shiver as you clutched your coat tighter around your body. You picked up your pace as your shoes tapped lightly against the pavement. Walking to school was nice this time of year, you loved the autumn scenery which was full of rich colors and leaves dancing in the wind. Winter on the other hand, was another story. It was also quite pretty, yet much more inconvenient and impractical. However, right now it was a pleasant walk.

Before you know it, you're at the entrance of your school, trudging up the stairs. Oh how you longed to be back in your warm, soft bed, asleep. You begrudgingly continued on your way when you heard a familiar voice ring out,

"Y/N! Wait up!"

You recognize the voice without even needing to turn around, it was Jake. Jake had been your best friend since he had moved here from Australia way back in middle school. He meant the world to you. You've grown so close over the years, he practically knows everything about you at this point. And you know all about him as well. You smiled and waved at the cheerful boy as he jogged to catch up with you. Slightly out of breath and with flushed cheeks, he greeted you,

"Good morninggg!" He drew out the last syllable with a dorky grin on his face. You giggled, he was always so cute without even trying.

"Good morning," you replied, happily.

"Kind of chilly this morning, huh? Did you walk to school again?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did. I always walk to school, you know that," you chuckled at his silly question.

"You knowww," he began,

Oh boy here we go, you thought.

"Heeseung would totally give you a ride to school if you'd like," he stated. Jake had made this offer to you a few times, however, you always declined. Heeseung was a close friend of Jake's yet he was merely an acquaintance to you at best, you would feel bad having him drive you around. Especially since he already gave Jake rides every morning.

Also not to mention, you found Heeseung incredibly attractive and you don't think your heart could handle that...

"No that's okay, I wouldn't want to impose," you politely declined like always. Jake sighed. You were always so considerate, almost to a fault.

"Y/N, Heeseung totally wouldn't mind, he isn't like that, you know." He smiled, trying to convince you to accept the offer. Especially, knowing that winter was just around the corner.

"I know...I just would rather not," you said trying to escape the topic as your cheeks began to heat up. Jake sighed defeatedly and decided to let it go as you both continued your way into the building.

*****

The end of the day couldn't come soon enough as you headed towards your final class; physics. Yay. You've always hated physics and although you were a straight A student, your grades suffered in that class. Thankfully, Jake was quite good at physics and was always happy to help. Over time, he basically became your tutor. You scanned the front board to see what the topic of the lesson was today. Like usual, you couldn't make sense of any of it. God, I wish I had Jake's brain, you thought to yourself.

As much as you tried not to, you ended up tuning out the teacher and his lecture as your mind wandered to anything but physics. Before you knew it, class was over and students began gathering their books and shuffling out of the classroom. Shit. I didn't pay attention to any of that. You mentally kicked yourself for slacking off. Well, at least the school day is over. You headed back to your locker where you saw Jake waiting for you.

"Hey Y/N, how was physics? I know it's your favorite class," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up," you slapped him playfully on the arm, "I actually totally zoned out the whole period. Therefore, I'm lost and you really have your work cut out for you as my tutor," you retorted.

He laughed and shook his head, "Y/N, you're killing me!" He said while jokingly clutching his chest in imaginary pain.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry I should honestly be paying you at this point," you laughed.

"Nah don't worry about it, I'm happy to help," he said. Gosh he's so sweet, you thought. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve him. But if you ever dared to say that out loud, you know you would receive an immediate rebuttal from him. Because that's just how Jake is.

*****

*BZZZ* *BZZZ* * BZZZ*

You rolled over and groaned. Ughhh, it's already time to get up? You had stayed up later than usual the night before. You had been facetiming with Jake as he tried to explain your physics homework to you. Unfortunately, it took you quite a while to understand it since you hadn't paid attention in class earlier that day.

Just 5 more minutes...you thought as you lazily snoozed your alarm.

*****

Your eyes fluttered open as you awoke for the second time. Hm, that's weird. Why didn't my alarm go off yet? You grabbed your phone to check the time. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright screen. Oh shit. You had overslept for 45 minutes. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You mentally cursed at yourself as you scrambled to get ready in half the time you usually do. You frantically threw on your school uniform and hurried to the bathroom to brush you teeth. You gasped as you saw your reflection. You had the worst bed head you had EVER seen. Just my luck. You quickly threw your hair up into a half updo. Guess I'm going for the messy look today. You hurried downstairs and grabbed a granola bar on your way out. You headed down your driveway only to see a car parked on the side of the road right in front of your house. You were a bit confused but as you got closer you were met with two familiar faces. Oh no. This is Heeseung's car. Your stomach did a backflip. Heeseung smiled and gave a small wave as Jake greeted you from the passenger seat,

"Hey, Y/N! Sorry for the surprise, I knew you would never accept the ride but the weather's getting colder and I don't want you to get sick," Jake rambled.

"Jake told me that you walk to school every morning, but I don't mind giving you a ride, it's no problem at all," Heeseung added with a kind smile.

You appreciated the kind gesture, however, you were mortified. Here you were, looking like the hottest mess of the century in front of the hottest boy of the century. This can't be happening. Of all days, why today?!

You smiled meekly, "Wow, uh, thank you that's very kind of you! I guess I'll take you up on that offer since you already went out of your way to come here," you said apologetically. The two boys smiled at you as you opened the car door and climbed into the back seat.

*****

So far, the ride had been fairly quiet until Jake suddenly broke the silence,

"Y/N, did you do something different with your hair?" Jake asked as he turned around to face you.

God, why did he have to bring that up??

"Uh, yeah, I actually woke up late and my hair was a mess so I just tried to make the best of it," you laughed nervously.

"Ohh, well it looks nice!" he complimented.

"Yeah, you look cute." Heeseung added with his eyes still on the road.

You froze. Your brain began malfunctioning as you tried to compute what Heeseung just said. He called me cute. You chuckled anxiously as you felt your cheeks burning up.

"Thank you," you said shyly.

Jake had noticed your abrupt change in body language, which confused him. But then, it all clicked. Oh...She has a crush on Heeseung. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed it sooner. He grinned to himself, amused by his realization. Suddenly, it made sense why you never accepted a ride.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I know it was a bit slow, but once the introductory part is out of the way, hopefully things will pick up the pace. Regardless, thank you for reading! I am also uploading this series on wattpad, so if you’d like to support it over there, that would mean a lot! I'm hoping to publish new chapters a couple times a week so keep your eyes peeled hehehe

~Elle <3

[spaceinvadeeer]

so. i'm currently waiting for my meds to kick in but my brain is abuzz. i've been thinking a whole lot about the vintage nordics lore i'm building together with @5577v but since i unfortunately draw slower than i think... I'll ramble about it here and see what happens.

we basically established that nations always had a hard time overall in the late 20th century because they weren't considered as their own person and their rights often got thrown out of the window. the nordics are no exception and it's actually super interesting to imagine how their relationships fluctuated overtime.

40s: war has left the nordics damaged in more ways than one, and they all struggle to recover from what they've endured on top of having the burden of the typical obligations they're bound to as personifications. denmark makes a move to reunite everybody in a meetup but norway and finland don't show up and are unreachable (one because he's hiding in shame, the other because joining the frontlines with his soldiers has made him bedridden and in need of intensive care). because of all the fresh trauma and tension they fail to release, they all eventually snap at one another and especially get mad at finland for siding with the germans, each leaving to brood alone in their corner without much communication. estonia steps in at finland's side around that time to help with the dull and boring days spent laying in bed to heal his wounds, but since estonia can't afford to stay for long periods of time, he offers hanatamago as a surprise present to brighten his best friend's daily life.

50s: norway eventually reaches out to denmark after a long silence, and they quite abruptly get closer again to catch up with what they missed and make up for the time lost to suffering and pain. they're both still fragile, but opening up and being honest about what they went through was a step forwards in their relationship and mental recovery. however denmark is scared of losing his closest companion again despite how ambiguously close they are to actual dating, so he compulsively tries to find another romantic partner in order to save his relationship with norway.

60s: all of them may still feel partially unable to cope with the weight of the latest world war, but they finally reconnected and try to keep some kind of contact with one another to keep that comforting sense of unity. denmark is especially affected, and on top of that goes his feelings for norway which start to bloom again after being pushed aside for a long time. denmark tried to fill the hole in his heart by dating netherlands at the time, but it's super obvious that he only has heart eyes for norway. who now doesn't seem interested in him beyond business relationships. so denmark regularly visits finland to vent about his helplessness, since finland is the therapist friend and a good listener. they probably have some kind of fling together but they both know it's not meant to last and it just allows them both to feel a little better about their complicated love life.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 13 - ao3 -

The wedding of a sect leader with the stature of Wen Ruohan was, as Lao Nie had predicted, an experience unlike any Lan Qiren had ever had before.

It was also, as Wen Ruohan had predicted, loud and full of crowds, things that Lan Qiren didn’t especially like. Luckily, despite being the groom’s ‘brother’, Wen Ruohan wasn’t requiring Lan Qiren to actually participate in any way, and he was just able to watch from a distance.

He tried not to think of Wen Ruohan’s casual admission that he had, in fact, devised the marriage just to deal with the issues with Lan Qiren’s reputation – and Lao Nie’s concern thereof, no doubt – and reassured himself that the bride was undoubtedly well prepared for her new life and would soon find her footing as the mistress of the Wen sect, where she would more than likely be happy in time.

That was how such things went, wasn’t it? Even with his sect’s notorious tendency towards love-madness, the people like his father, who married for love, were the exception and not the rule…

(He also tried not to think about the fact that Wen Ruohan accepted all the toasts for his wedding using a drinking bowl in Gusu style, painted with a border of vermilion birds, or the fact that, despite Lan Qiren having gifted a set, it was the only one of its kind on the table, leaving Wen Ruohan's new bride to drink from a much fancier gold-gilded bowl – but that was more because he didn’t understand what it meant, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.)

“Did you even get a chance to see him?” his brother asked when they returned, looking coldly disapproving.

“I did,” Lan Qiren said, thinking to himself less of the dinner that they’d shared with Lao Nie and more of the brief moment when the Lan sect delegation been about to leave, a servant appearing and whisking him off briefly back to the family quarters where Wen Ruohan, looking as composed as ever, pressed a too-familiar hand to his head and told him that he was sure he’d be seeing him again soon. “He didn’t say much.”

Nothing his brother would care about, anyway.

His brother nodded, looking unsurprised, and dismissed him, remarking unnecessarily, “You missed the first few days of classes,” as if Lan Qiren wasn’t aware of when each season of classes started for the disciples better than him. After all, Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher one day, when he tired of traveling, and to do for future generations of the Lan sect what his teachers had done for him, and he took it as seriously as he did anything else.

The seasonal classes were his favorite, largely because such classes were open not only to the Lan sect disciples but to certain guest disciples – typically the children of rogue cultivators that the Lan sect wanted to encourage to join the sect, which meant that they had to pass through the same rigorous standards applicable to the usual sect disciples. Lan Qiren had always thought it was a shame that their classes were so limited in scope, although he acknowledged there wasn’t much to be done about it; after all, how many sects would be willing to send their children to be taught by outsiders?

A puzzle for another day.

For now, Lan Qiren made his way to the classroom, taking advantage of the lunch break to settle his things in his familiar seat at the side of the room. He hoped that coming in during the middle of the day would reduce the number of whispers that seemed to invariably greet him these days – luckily much more inclined to see him as a source of information rather than a victim or, worse, a perpetrator – but he didn’t have much faith in it.

“Hey, you’re in my seat.”

Lan Qiren looked up: it was a female disciple. Her face was unfamiliar to him, which suggested she was a rogue cultivator – while men and women lived separately in the Cloud Recesses, they came together for meals and other such events, and despite his introversion, Lan Qiren knew most if not all of his peer group by now.

“Sanren,” he said politely, rising and saluting. “Forgive me, but this has always been my seat.”

She frowned at him. “You didn’t claim it at the start of classes.”

“I missed the start of classes due to an unavoidable conflict.”

“I’ve been using it all week,” she said, and looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating an answer.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say here. “I’ve been using it all my life. What’s your point?”

“So you’re not going to give it up for me?”

Lan Qiren stared at her. “Obviously not.”

She grinned toothily at him. “All the boys give up their seats for me. I understand that it’s a matter of etiquette.”

“Whoever told you that was lying,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I like you,” she said, and crossed her arms – an aggressive posture, although her tone, like Wen Ruohan’s, seemed more amused than anything else. How strange to see a sudden resemblance, when they very clearly had nothing else in common. “How would you know? Maybe it’s in the rules.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Really,” Lan Qiren said, and smiled. “Why don’t we examine that supposition?”

She blinked at him, suddenly wary, but it was too late: if there was one thing Lan Qiren knew, it was his sect’s rules. Learning how to beat people over the head with them on purpose was a more recent development, and he was still working on fine-tuning that – most people started begging for mercy while he still felt irritated, but when they continued listening with apparent interest, as the rogue cultivator girl did, he swiftly forgot that he was trying to make a point and shifted over to actual enthusiasm for the subject.

“Cangse Sanren!”

Lan Qiren’s listener started and very nearly fell over – she’d put her chin on her hands at some point during the discussion of the origin of the rules regarding interactions between men and women, and hadn’t accounted for that when twisting to see who was calling her.

It was a mixed group of sect disciples, with some of Lan Qiren’s cousins and disciples of other surnames that he recognized, plus a few more that were likely rogue cultivators’ children as well.

“Oh,” she said. “You. What is it?”

“I see you got caught up in one of Lan-er-gongzi’s boring rule lectures,” one of the disciples said – one of Lan Ganhui’s friends, with Lan Ganhui himself nearby, grimacing at him in an attempt to make him stop. Lan Ganhui had gotten a lot more likely to leave Lan Qiren alone ever since Lan Yueheng had decided to befriend him, even intervening to make his friends leave off, but this time the other disciple ignored him, his eyes too focused on those ahead of him to pay him any mind; he was smiling intently at the rogue cultivator girl in a way that was clearly attempting to seem charming. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to him just because he’s main branch, you know! No one else does.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” one of the others muttered, glancing warily at Lan Qiren. It wasn’t apparent whether he was concerned about Lan Qiren’s rank, personality, or family connection.

For his part, Lan Qiren just felt tired. He would like to think that they were all part of the same sect, learning the same things, but he knew that wasn’t how the world worked. There were good people and bad in every sect, and the undercurrents that came with any community were inescapable.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl – who had the title of Cangse Sanren, apparently – said unexpectedly. “His explanation is three times more interesting than the stupid learning by rote we’ve been doing so far.”

“Learning by repetition has a long history of being the most effective way of learning something,” Lan Qiren objected. “Even the most unrepentant scoundrel would learn the rules by heart if he had to copy them down for a month, and then when that was done and the foundation built, you could get started on explaining the why of them.”

“But repetition’s not as interesting,” Cangse Sanren said. “I really liked that story about Lan Yi.”

Lan Qiren looked at her suspiciously. He’d never outgrown his tendency to speak in a dull monotone – one of his peers had once compared it to the thudding of grinding stones in a mill – and it was the rare person who actually appreciated the rules the way he did. His teachers, of course, and some of the other more studious disciples did, but even with them he’d be hard pressed to say they actually liked his rambling.

She held up her hands. “Really! I feel like I understand why she put the rule in place now, whereas before it felt like I was just learning the rule for the sake of learning the rule.”

“That’s because you need to learn the rules before you learn the background,” he said. “The rules are a house built without nails, each piece in its place doing its part to maintain the whole - one rule backs another, while being supported in turn. Only once you know what the rules are can you move to understanding the reasons behind them.”

And from understanding to accepting, allowing our ancestors’ wisdom to act as a guiding light that clears the fog from your path, he wanted to say, because he loved the rules, truly and sincerely.

People made fun of him sometimes, thinking him boring or stuffy or overly strict, with no flexibility and too little empathy, saying he was obsessed with the rules for no beneficial purpose, but to him the rules were a gift from the past to the future. The Wall of Discipline represented the accumulated life experience of dozens if not hundreds of Lan sect disciples before him, turned through debate and contemplation into advice they thought would be able to help guide those that came after them to living a good, clean, happy life. As their descendant, how could he fail to honor that which those people, who had loved him without knowing him, had strained themselves to give him?

In just the same way, it was his duty to love the future generations that had yet to be born, to act as the bridge to that unknown future, entrusted by his ancestors to carry to them the rules that would be both his inheritance and his legacy. Those nameless faces dressed in Lan white, unborn children with his brother’s face or even his own, of his cousins and fellow disciples alike, all those souls that had yet to enter this world but who he loved so much already – if he could spare them a single iota of pain through his own experience, how could he not do so, and gladly? How could he not do everything he could to give them everything he had received from the rules, that sense of pride of their history, the strength and wisdom that could be passed down no other way? How could that be a burden?

Lan Qiren had never really had the chance to explain any of that to anyone, his tongue too stiff and clumsy to convey what sometimes he felt could only be expressed in song or poetry, and he did not have such a chance now: as usual, the other disciples were already laughing, dismissing him as a teacher’s pet, overly rule-bound, obsessed with homework and test-taking, a boring old fart whose soul was prematurely aged.

“What’s wrong with being old?” Cangse Sanren asked, her voice flatter than it was before, and the boys in front of her suddenly scrambled to start apologizing so fast that Lan Qiren was left wondering what exactly he’d missed.

“Class is starting soon,” he said instead of asking, though he promised himself he’d ask around later. Surely someone would know. “Everyone should take your seat – no, Cangse Sanren, as I’ve said, that one is mine.”

She grinned unrepentantly at him and stepped back over where he’d kicked his foot out to block her. “You win, this time,” she said, and took the seat next to him with absolutely no remorse for whoever might have been sitting there before. “Watch yourself, stick-in-the-mud.”

Lan Qiren glared, though somehow Cangse Sanren’s teasing didn’t feel as annoying as the other disciples’ usually did. Even if she did make several more attempts on his seat over the course of the day, causing him to have to fend her off or think ahead to evade her latest attempt.

He initially thought that she might try to come to class early the next day to try to claim it before he did, but instead she dragged herself in only moments before class was due to start, face haggard as if waking up at the very tail end of mao hour was the equivalent to rising at yin, although she was back to her regular form soon enough, bright and clever enough to make any teacher fond of her.

This became something of a pattern, in fact – sluggish wakening, intellectual jousting during class and an unspoken competition over the seat that had formerly been reserved for him outside of it. In the afternoons she usually went off with the more martially minded disciples, while he spent his time in the library or musical halls, though at some point she started dropping off random foodstuffs by his door in the early evening as if she thought he was too thin.

“Maybe she has a crush on you!” Lan Yueheng said enthusiastically; bizarrely enough, he seemed to like romance as much as his explosions or his math.

“I think it’s a little closer to treating me like a stray cat that she found and took a shine to,” Lan Qiren said, shaking his head. All the boys in the sect would have paid in gold and jewels for Cangse Sanren to give them a second look, and she didn’t care one whit for the best of them; there was no need for her to go courting when she could get three serious offers of marriage just by winking. “Give them here, I’ll redistribute them to the younger children.”

“You can’t do that!” Lan Yueheng looked offended. “It’s her sincere offering! From the heart!”

“It’s food she purchased in town,” Lan Qiren said doubtfully. “It’s not as if she baked them herself. Anyway, I can’t eat this many sweets without getting a stomachache. What else am I supposed to do with it? Let it rot?”

“Qiren-xiong, you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing,” Lan Qiren said, not taking offense. “Do you want some? Last offer before they’re gone.”

“…well, I mean, if you’re going to give them away anyway…”

He told Cangse Sanren what he was doing the next day, as a matter of politeness in the event that she wanted to stop once she knew what he was doing, and she just laughed – she always laughed at just about everything, he’d found. She didn’t stop delivering food, either, which he might have expected, though she did shift over into items that were easier to distribute.

Their entire mode of interacting was simultaneously very annoying and also not, and Lan Qiren didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do with it.

And then he got his first letter from Wen Ruohan.

[ssavanessa22]

BMO

BMO part 2

Parring: Spencer Reid x black fem reader!

Warnings: none I think but I if I missed something pls tell me!

Spencer and and the team have a family dinner at Rossi’s, Tara has invited her younger sister, and the team soon discover that boy wonder and Dr y/n Lewis have a lot in common

"Tara I promise you I'm not gonna be late I'm only a few minutes away I'll be there soon"

"Okay y/n you better be or your going to be the one to wake all this dishes at Rossi's"

"Yeah I'm not doing that I'll be there any second now"

Tara had decided to invite me to one of Rossi's infamous dinner parties, Tara and I haven't seen each other for 9 months since hat may not seem like a lot but we are extremely close so to us it feels like life time. She had already told me about her team numerous time but tonight my anxiety was running high these are the people excluding dad and I that she considers family and I don't want to make a fool of myself. Tara told me that the dress code was fancy extremely fancy and I don't have that kind of wardrobe so I had to buy a dress before I left for D.C.

For the evening I was wearing a strapless floor length blue gown gown. I paired this dress with black Stilettos.For my hair I decided to keep it my butterfly locs in that were black and long and fell to my mid back

Spencer POV

Tara had describe her younger sister as the life of the party always outgoing funny but nothing really else she only said that her and I would definitely get along, I mean I'm not really looking to get with someone right now but it would be nice to be friends with someone the same age as me and outside of the team.

Y/N’s POV

My cab had dropped me of right outside Rossi's house and I was awe of his house, really it was a mansion it was modern but still had a touch of character. I paid my fair and hot out the cab with my off the shoulder bag I walked up the stairs a gently knocked of the door. Tara opened the door instantly calming me bringing my heart rate down. Grabbing a hold of her pulling her into a big hug.

"Hey sis ugh I missed you so much how are you how is doug?"

"Awww Y/n I missed you so much and uhhh me and doug aren't together anymore"

"Wait I'm sorry but how much did I missed you guys broke up"

"Yeah you've missed a lot but don't worry I'll will catch you up love, come in meet then team you look gorgeous by the way"

"Thank you ta-" was cut of by an eccentric women dressed in a colourful outfit squealing and taking me into a bear hug.

"Oh you must be Y/n, Tara's younger sister I'm Penelope Garcia it's so nice to meet you and you are so pretty your skin your hair! Omg your hair Tara why have you never gotten braids before?"

I was taken aback but so intrigued she seems like such a fun and outgoing person definitely someone I would love to be friends with. Replying for Tara I said.

"Oh Tara's never really been with the whole braids thing even when when we were younger she's always been more into wigs."

A women with piercing black hair and beautiful eyelashes who I can only assume was Emily standing in the foyer with the rest of the team questioned.

"Wait I'm sorry but Tara that's not your real hair?"

I turned to look and Tara who then looked back at me whilst we both turned to the only other black person in the room who I assume is Derek morgen by the description Tara gave me of her co workers. All three of us proceeded to look at each other then back at Emily after a brief moment of silence Derek and I burst into laughter. Tara interrupted our laughter, "why don't we introduce you to the rest of the team instead of revealing my hair secrets of mmh?" I walked with Tara to go meet Hotch and Rossi whilst I turned to Garcia giving me a cheeky grin and mouthing Your in big trouble.

I said hi to Hotch and Rossi thanking him for inviting me into his beautiful home I was then lead to JJ and Derek greeting them.

"Hi it's really nice to meet you guys" I waved at them and they both gave me a confused looked.

"Oh I don't shake hands to many germs it's actually safer to kiss then to shake hands with someone" they both looked at me stunned then looked to the mystery man talking to Penelope and Emily.

"Not that I don't want to shake your hand I do it's just not my thing... sorry I ramble a lot when I get nervous."

"No it's okay you just remind us of someone that's all" Derek said whilst smirking with JJ.

"Dinners ready let's all meet at the garden" Rossi announced.

I Weaved my arm through Tara's as well began walking to the garden. "So Dr.Lewis how are you finding Washington" Penelope asked me

"Oh it's really nice I'm enjoying the city right now and I'm excited to be with Tara for the next few months"

Spencer's POV

"Wait did you say Dr.Lewis"

"Yeah Spence, y/n is a Dr" JJ said

"Oh so you guys looked me up? I mean I dont mind I could have just told you guys" Y/n said giggling

"Yeah I looked you up, anyone on the teams family is my family" Garcia said matching her giggle.

"Yeah I have a phd in psychology maths and physics, and a bachelors in criminology" Y/n replied weakly.

"Oh come on y/n/n tell him then the rest come on!" Tara said encouraging her sister to speak

"And I have an IQ of 190 and an eidetic memory"

"And y/n?” Tara said encouraging her once more.

"And I can read 25,000 words per minute, but they don't want to here about this boring stuff Tara."

"We do want to hear about this what if someone was like you?" Derek said

By this point we had gotten to the garden and were sitting at the table I was visibly staring at Y/n but I didn't care she was beautiful and her brain was to, she was like me no she was smarter and I wanted so badly to get to know her. As she sat down in between Tara and I she jokingly said.

"if I meet a guy with an IQ and eidetic memory like mine, a Doctor, with a nice personality and was cute like extremely attractive I would date him in a heartbeat but those types of guys don't exist"

I don't know what came over me but I had to reply y/n was talking about me I'm her dream man and she didn't even know it. Tara only said she and I would get along but I didn't know this well she's like the denial version of me but better, her skin glowed under the fairy lights that hung around Rossi's garden making her look angelic. Her dress accentuated every curve and dip on her body her cleavage ever so slightly protruding out of her dress but her body wasn't what intrigued me it was her her mind her personality I haven't even had a conversation with her but I already want to get to know her. So I downed my glass of liquid courage turned to her and I was about to describe Derek butted in and said.

Y/N’s POV

"I think Y/n over here just describe pretty boy"

"I described who"

I turned to Tara slaking her what Derek meant but she wouldn't look in my direction.

"Uhh I think what there trying to say is that you describing me Y/n I have and IQ of 187 I also have an eidetic memory and 3 PHD's but I mean I don't know if I'm-"

"You are attractive...if that's what you were going to ask"

I didn't even know the name of the man who spoke I think it might be Spencer but i didn't care because this was the most attractive man I had ever seen in my life

—