#I wanted to post this roughly four hours ago. ]

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[sunnybunnyy2]

Father Knows Best

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, swearing, mentions of Daryl’s abuse, mentions of savours, transpires in season seven, spoilers for season seven of the walking dead, possible typos and bad writing

CHAPTER 3 to the Dark Cell Series

Not much Daryl in this one, sadly, but he will be in it much more next chapter!

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This one came out way quicker than the second and I’m sorry for that, but I am beginning to get into a regular posting times! So here it is!!

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the loud pounding of a fist consistently colliding against your door.  

You let out a groan as your senses began to kick in, the once blackness that you were seeing behind your eyelids was replaced with the bright light that shined through the window that was meant to be covered by your curtain but you had been growing even more tired since your visits with Daryl. 

It had made sense. Normally you would be asleep before the second night shift, so around 11 pm, but now you couldn't fall asleep until around 3 am, sometimes even 4.

That paired with the times that you had to wake up each morning had given you a maximum of four hours a night. Then you had to work all day and repeat the cycle again and again. 

You couldn't risk falling asleep before you met Daryl, knowing that he would starve that night, and that thought alone kept your mind racing all day. 

You constantly wondered how he was doing at the hands of your father. You wondered if he was being beaten, even if the old bruises on his face had started to fade you knew it wasn't long until they would reappear again. 

You wondered what else Dwight was forcing him to do. You couldn't really put anything past him. 

You used to admire how kind he was to others and how kindly he would treat his wife, Sherry, and her sister, Tina. But ever since Tina had been killed when they had escaped the sanctuary over a month ago and he had faced the wrath of her father, he hadn't been the same.

You knew it was because of his wife. Sherry had offered to become your father's wife to spare Dwight's life. 

You didn't agree with your father having multiple wives especially so soon after your mother's death. It had been just over two years and he was pretending she didn't exist. He was coercing women into being his wife, in hopes of filling the dark that was left after your mother had taken her own life. 

You could see how their presence in his life wasn't providing in the way he had hoped it would. You could see it in his eyes. 

He was miserable. So he was bringing pain onto other people to make himself feel better. You didn't agree with his ways of coping but it's not like you could change his mind. He was a grown man and could certainly make his own choices.

He knew where you stood and what he chose to do with that was up to him, you supposed. He knew you weren't a fan of his 'marital' status so he kept it as far away from you as possible. Making sure that he never showed affection to them around you, making sure they stayed out of your way. But that wasn't the issue. You did like his wives, they were kind to you. Always making sure you were okay. Never talking about your father around you. 

You had felt like his wives were a majority of your closest friends. When you pushed back the fact that they were sleeping with your father.

You tugged the sheets off of your body roughly as you jumped to your feet after realizing that the knocking wasn't getting any quieter.

You pulled your shirt down from where it had been yanked up in your sleep from your turning as you walked towards the door before jerking it open, causing the knocker to stumble slightly as they fell forward, making it clear that they were leaning against the door as they waited for a response. 

"Jesus," she spoke your name as she caught herself from falling to the hard ground. "Your dad wants you. Said you had something you wanted to talk to him about." Laura informed you as she looked at you with a blank face but you knew her facial features well enough from the two years you had known her to tell that she was confused about what you had to talk to your father about. You had always confided in her about the way you felt about your father. 

The disappointment and frustration but also about how you missed the old times between your family. About how you missed your old father and how you missed the comfort your mother had brought you before she died.

She had also spoken about how she missed her parents as well and even though her situation wasn't remotely the same, she still understood what it felt like to be a younger girl who just wanted her parent's love and affection. 

"Yeah, yeah...um where is he?" You asked as you ran a hand through your hair in an attempt to smooth out some of the tangles. 

"In his room. You better get ready, he ain't got all day." Laura sent a nod your way before sending you a half smile, clearly as tired as you as she was sent to do more work around the sanctuary. She never seemed to have time to rest. She was constantly either at Negan's aid or on watch somewhere around the sanctuary. 

"Sir, yes sir." You saluted.

"You wish I was a sir?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Nah, you're just fine to look at now." You smiled slyly.

"Jesus, you're just like your father." She shook her head with a smirk. 

"Damn, Laura. You wound me. Seriously that was so hurtful." You half-joked as you wiped away imaginary tears as you turned your head away from her. 

"I take that back, you're way better." She shrugged as she spoke the truth that everyone at the sanctuary thought. Though you had always assumed some of the saviours had befriended you because of Negan wasn't entirely true. Sure some did in hopes of earning extra points for themselves and their families, but most just genuinely thought that you were one of the good ones. That you could possibly be able to persuade your father to change his ways. 

"Alright. I forgive you, Laur. Even if you started my day off with a fucking headache." You spoke as you rubbed your temple, your words earning a very 'unladylike' snort from Laura as she started to back away from your room and down the hallway. 

"My pleasure, Miss. Smith." She saluted before she turned around and quickened her pace to her shift which she was surely late from, leaving you to stare at the hallway wall as you mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have with your father, knowing it could go two ways. Well, which was the unlikely scenario or, Awful which you were leaning towards. 

And that's how you ended up here. Sat at the table with your father as he settled in his seat after having poured himself a small glass of bourbon. 

You watched as Potter, a worker in the sanctuary, placed two plates of eggs, home fries and some ham on top of the table for you two. You sent a smile his way as he nodded at you and your father before turning to make his exit, but your father's voice stopped him. 

"Oh, Mr. Potter..." Your father spoke in a sing-song voice as tapped his fork on the table. 

"Yes, Negan?" He asked as he turned back to the pair of you. A trail of sweat hastily coming down his brow, as his anxious eyes flicked between you and your father in hopes of getting a read on your body language.

"I think you forgot something." He pointed to his empty cup of water before snapping his fingers as if the second after he spoke lasted an hour. "Today." He rolled his eyes as the man rushed over to pick up the pitcher of water and pour it into his cup.

"Would you like some as well, ?" He spoke your name as he turned to look at you. Your father's glass now filled with ice water. 

"Of course, she wants some. What do you think, she wants to eat your dry ass food without having something to wash it down with." Your father let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world all while glaring the poor man down, who was practically shaking in his boots.

"No thank you, Potter." You managed to smile softly at him as if to calm him. Your body lowered down slightly as your body inadvertent shrank into yourself in embarrassment at how your father was treating the kind man.

Your demeanour didn't seem to put the man at ease as he still looked as though he was about to stroke out, which apparently was hilarious to your father as he let out a booming chuckle from deep in his throat, his rough and deep voice spoke from behind his pearly white teeth. 

"Jesus, man. I'm just joking. It's just a jokey, joke. Holy fuck," he spoke your name, "did you see his fucking face? He looked like he was going to piss his pants." He laughed before looking at the floor as though he was looking to see if the older man had done just that. 

"That will be all, Potter. Thank you." You looked away from your father to face the middle-aged man before nodding to the door, not quite able to hide your anger well, causing him to look to Negan for permission.

Your father watched you with amusement glimmering in his big brown eyes, clearly finding your annoyance entertaining, before he nodded, still looking at you as he spoke. "Do you need her to tell you again? Leave. Now." Without wasting a second he scurried out of the room, probably to go cry in the corner somewhere. Your father seemed to always have that effect on people. 

"Did you really have to scare him away? I was gonna get him to cut up my meat." He laughed.

"You're a grown-ass man. I think you can do it yourself just fine." You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as his eyes widened slightly before they were amused again, a small laugh leaving his lips.

"You really are my kid, ain't ya."

You guys sat in silence for a minute. You glaring at him and him trying to hide the merriment in his eyes.

"If you've got something to say, baby, just spit it out." He said as he crossed his arms while leaning back in his seat, eyes studying your face. 

"What is wrong with you?" You asked with anger clear in your voice as you shook your head.

"Well, sweetheart, I have a lot of things wrong with me so you're gonna have to be more specific." 

"You know what I'm talking about, Dad. That. How you treat people." You scoffed at his attempt at humour, normally you would laugh at his stupid attempts at making you laugh but now, when he humiliated people for a good laugh, your blood would quite literally boil in your skin. 

"I was just having a little fun. He doesn't mind." He dismissed as he laughed, shaking his head before he began using the fork he was still gripping to take a substantial bite of his over-easy eggs.

"It's not a 'little fun', Dad. You scared him half to death. Does it not make you feel bad when you treat people like shit?" You shook your head in disbelief.

"No, it doesn't. I'm in charge. Im not treating anyone like shit here. Do you see all that I do for these people? What I provide for them." His face grew annoyed at your words.

"Yeah, Dad. I do. But you can help keep these people safe without treating them like shit. You don't need to make them fear you to keep them sa-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence but you could tell by his tone that you got your point across.

"They need to fear me to stay in line. That's what I do. I keep them in line. How else do you think we're still standing? If I become buddy, buddy with them they'll think they can get away with shit they just can't get away with."

"You can be a decent person and still have loyal followers. I mean, shit, how do you think half the groups still alive are operating?" You tried to mile your tone down as you began cutting up your ham. 

"You mean the groups we're gonna take over? They won't be operating like that for long." He shook his head in dismissal before wiping away the yellow egg yolk that had dropped into his pink lips.

"But why can't you form alliances with other groups? Instead of controlling them?" You tried to reason.

"Look, hunny. I love you, okay? But I don't tell you how to lead your little posey so don't fucking tell me how to lead mine." He said angrily before taking hold of his glass of bourbon and gulping down all of its contents. 

"You do realize you just called you and your people pretentious, right? I do think it fits, though." You snorted as you took a small bite of your scrambled eggs. 

"What did you want to talk to me about? I have things I need to get done." He rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know having a conversation with your daughter was such a burden." You shook your head as you began to stand up but we're stopped when your father grabbed your arm.

You looked over expecting to see a look of anger on your father's face but sat back down when all you saw was remorse for his words that were obviously taken out of context but they had hurt you nonetheless, as that was what he hated the most. Hurting you.

"You know what I meant. I love talking to you, you know that, don't act like you don't. Tell me what you want to talk about, baby. Please." He pulled his and away and picked up his fork, signalling for you to speak. 

"What is that community called?" You asked as you picked up the pitcher of water, not missing the look your father sent you that practically said, 'You should have just gotten Potter to do that' but you just brushed it off, knowing you were more than capable of pouring your own cup of water.

"Who am I? Fucking Professor X? You're going to have to be more-"

"That new community. The one you took a prisoner from." You specified, know that was his next word.

"How the hell do you know about that?" He asked with slight anger. He had tried to keep you as far away from his duties as much as he possibly could. 

He had constantly restricted you from leaving the sanctuary in hopes of keeping you alive and blissfully unaware of his actions, knowing that he had shaped his men well enough that they knew they needed to die for you. 

"Everyone knows about it. You don't exactly keep it under wraps. I can hear you boost about it from my room. Your voice travels." You studied him, wanting to make sure he wasn't going to try and keep something from you.

"Huh, so I've been told." He shrugged as he then began to study you, checking to see if he could notice any alternative motives. You could only hope he didn't.

"So?"

"Why do you wanna know anyway?" He questioned.

"I'm just curious. Sick of the gossip and rumours, just want to know what's going on. That's all." You attempted to play it off, hoping he didn't notice the slight quiver in your voice.

"I hate gossipers too. They seem to be everywhere, don't they." He replied as he squirted some ketchup onto his cooling grilled potatoes.

"Yeah, they do... so...?" You pressed, hoping he would stop beating around the bush and just reveal what you were wanting to know.

"Alexandria. It's a nice place but the people make it a fucking shit hole, their leader, Rick, is a joke. A fucking pussy if I've ever known one. Hell, I bet Potter could take him in a fight. Truly it's embarrassing." He ranted as he rolled his eyes, his fork scraping against his plate as if the sheer thought of Daryl's leader, Rick, had brought him so much rage that he had to take it out on the plate.

"So is there a lot of people there?" You asked, trying to sound casual.

"Two-hundred and thirty-four." He revealed causing her to tense.

"So we have more." It was a statement rather than a question.

"By a landslide, baby. We have five hundred and four through all of our outposts. In any way, we outrank them. You know what's hilarious? Their leader is so hellbent on killing me even though he knows my people could wipe his people out in a blink of an eye. Everything with that guy is a dick-measuring contest. But he should know by now that he's not gonna win in that department." He laughed once again forgetting that his daughter was sitting across from him. 

Your eyes rolled as he once again found a way to boost about himself.

"Jesus, your daughter is right here!" You exclaimed as you rolled your eyes. Sometimes he was such a child, you thought. If your mother was here she would beat him with her shoe.

"Sorry, sorry. But hey, I want to show you something." He said as he wiped his mouth with a cotton napkin, before placing it on top of his now empty plate, the streaks of ketchup and yellow remained.

Your food on the other hand was still half full, but you knew your father would have somebody wrap it up for you to eat tomorrow as he knew that it took you at least an hour after waking up to be able to eat. 

As you guys walked you caught sight of a man with long dark hair and a broad frame hunched over a mop. You didn't clue in until you saw Dwight roughly grab the man to make him continue his moping a little way ahead. 

It was Daryl.

You didn't have much time to react before your father was speaking again, drawing their attention.

"Dwighty boy, what do we have here?" Your father said as he stopped beside Dwight, smirking down at Daryl as he watched him silently continue his task, his head angled downward.

"Just Daryl, doing what he's told," Dwight spoke with a slight smile while watching Daryl.

Your father let out a booming laugh and you could see Daryl pause his movements for a moment having to mentally restrain himself from physically pouncing on him. 

You knew if he were to break loose you couldn't really blame him. Your father had put him through hell, but that's what he was. Your father. You couldn't let anything thing happen to him, no matter how much you understood how he was feeling.

"You missed a spot." Your father said as he watched the slightly shorter man conceal his anger with delight, clearly enjoying the inner battle that was going on inside of him. Your father kept his eyes on Daryl as he tipped his bourbon bottle on the floor, the dark liquor mashed with the newly clean floor. The half-drunken bottle now sized down a noticeable amount, he laughed again before he shoved the bottle into Dwight's chest. "Here, buddy. You deserve it." Your father tore his eyes away from Daryl before looking up at you, noticing the beyond-dirty look you were sending his way. 

"Thanks, boss." Dwight nodded as he clutched the bottle.

"Get back to work, you mutt." Your father smiled at Daryl but you could tell it was forced as he roughly patted his shoulder in a condescending way before making his way back over to you, sensing your unease about what he was doing.

He nodded at you to follow him before he began to stroll back down the hallway. You followed but your eyes were still trained on Daryl.

Your heart pounded in your chest when he turned his head slightly, watching Negan go before his eyes found you. 

They narrowed once he caught sight of you. You couldn't quite read the look that took over his emotionless face but you knew he didn't feel joy in seeing you with Negan. 

You saw flashes of rage, confusion and a flash of fear? 

Your eyes were locked on each other before Dwight harshly shoved Daryl back to his task which he complied with but at a slower pace, as if his mind was processing the fact that he had seen you outside of his cell with Negan of all people. 

You waited a moment before you turned back around, and in that moment you saw Dwight studying the two of you in confusion.

You hurriedly turned forward to look at your father's back as you turned the corner finally making your way into the kitchen. The one you had found yourself in more often than ever.

"Ta-da," your father said in an overdramatic voice, a wide smile on his face as he waved a hand towards a big a machine that was shaking as it operated, the small, shiny window was wet with condensation. 

"Holy-shit! Is that what I think it is?" You exclaimed in an excited tone as you practically hopped over to the machine in pure astonishment.

"Well, I sure as shit hope I didn't have seven of my men working themselves into the ground carrying this piece of shit back here all for it not to be the fucking ice cream machine that I've been askin' for, for a fuckin' year?" He spoke as you leaned back slightly as if to amplify his words. 

You let out a yell of excitement as you ran into your father's arms, his arms wrapping around your upper back as you tucked your head into his chest. You could feel his smile as he rested his forehead on top of your scalp.

It was moments like these that you missed. The pure moments of a father and daughter showing care for one another. Sure you were still angry with him for what he did to Daryl just minutes ago and for all the bad he was doing, but you couldn't spoil this moment.

The moment that your inner child craved to have.

The moment you were robbed of one too many times. 

You wondered if the sadness could be shown in your eyes. The longing for the love of your parents. 

You knew that Laura could see it. Just as you could see your sadness as well. It was like an understanding for the two of you. You both didn't get to experience much love from your parents, her from way before the outbreak and you, after.

You knew that your mother wasn't at fault for not being there for you. You knew that if she could be here, she would. That's just who she was. She would never miss any of your important achievements and even your minor ones, she always made sure to show up, no matter how much shit she would get at work. She would take all the yelling from her boss just to see your smile when you noticed she was there. 

Your father tried his hardest to be there but most of the time something else was always more important. You were always left having to deal with his half-ass excuses as to why he couldn't show up; only to find out that he was too busy fucking your godmother aka your mother's best friend.

You weren't sure how your mother could forgive him after all the stress he had caused her in the early stages of her cancer, but you knew it was most likely because of how much she loved him.

You had never quite seen someone treat their significant other as well as your father did when he found out about your mother's diagnosis.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You chanted pulling away from your father to look at the grey and blue machine again causing your father to laugh at you, even though he was feeling elated at the fact that you had enjoyed his little present. 

"So, you want to take it for a spin?" Negan asked with a grin, knowing that he was gonna get a taste of the treat that he had also been craving.

"Do Andie and Ben end up together in 'How to lose a guy in 10 days?' " You asked with a raised eyebrow, a smile on your face. 

"Uh, I don't know, do they?" He asked in confusion, not quite realizing the reference.

"Yes!" You exclaimed before rushing to the ice cream machine, your father hot on your tail.

TAG LIST: @cult-of-norman @book-place @ilovespiderpeople @kazunish @mysouleaten @murdadixon

Message me or comment if you would like to be added to the tag list!!

[timberwind]

Yarragardee Basin, Mangala, 7995 A.D.

------------------------

Accompanying music: You’re On Fire by They Might Be Giants. Summer road trip music of all time, in my opinion.

Here’s a little expository write-up on the history and geography of the worlds shown here. Someday I’ll have more to show of the personal story of these two critters and their travels; until then, a more macro-level description.

------------------------

(most of this info has become outdated as modeling invalidated some original assumptions and I changed my mind on what I wanted here; future art of Mangala will reflect this)

Mangala and its sister world Kahira (visible in the background) are binary planets, orbiting one another in a manner not entirely unlike that of Pluto and Charon in the Solar System. Mangala is a relatively small world - just about twenty percent the mass of the Earth, something like if you took two copies of Mars and smushed them together; without the internal heat to drive a carbonate cycle long term, it had long been a frozen, dusty, and arid place when transhumanity first established a permanent presence in the Tahoka system almost a thousand years ago. Since those early days, terraforming using a Birchian soletta system (a huge but foil-thin Fresnel lens of mirrors, with a secondary focal lens for burning atmospheric gasses out of the regolith) has rendered it shirtsleeve habitable to baseline humans across much of the surface, although the global water inventory remains low* and the air in the “continental” uplands is stratospheric, with only the hardiest lichens establishing a foothold. Most of Mangala’s major metropolitan areas are located in the deep rift valleys and basins, where air pressure is highest.

Kahira on the other hand, a rock almost a fifth the mass of its sister world (a little under the mass of old Mercury), remains only slightly terraformed - surface conditions are persistently cold, with a thin barely-Martian atmosphere. Some of its larger rift valleys and craters have been tented over, aerated, and planted with tall low-gravity forest and grassland, a style of habitat construction dating back to the first Mars colonists almost six thousand years ago. Industrial complexes and buried cities sprawl out across the bare surface of the moon, with huge low-gravity lava tubes seeing extensive urban development.

The Yarragardee Basin, pictured above, is a graben basin in Mangala’s northern hemisphere, notable for the historic industrial city of Tirupati - here we see two road-trippers between cities on the basin’s great plain, taking a break in the long late afternoon of a sunset-day***. Having stopped for a night at a motel near Tirupati’s aerospace complex, they’re now continuing their journey to the city of Redmond-Tonasket, located in the Woronora Valles trench system about two thousand kilometers to the southwest.

* While plenty of water could have been imported from Tahoka’s cometary halo, it was decided not to do so in order to avoid inundating pre-existing cities in the valleys and deep basins. The extremely humid hothouse conditions that come after slamming dismantled ice moons through the stratosphere at over six kilometers a second were also broadly considered unacceptable.

** Smaller worlds have been terraformed in transhuman space, both by worldhouse and more open-air methods, but it’s largely the kind of thing that much more energy-rich systems do as a vanity project. Kahira may someday see blue skies, but likely not for a thousand years at least. (edit, one year later: I actually changed up some of this while simulating this system for stability. I’ll be posting more about this soon.)

*** Mangala and Kahira, being tidally locked to each other such that they always show one another the same face as they orbit their common center of mass, both have days exactly as long as their orbital periods - 403 kiloseconds, or roughly 112 hours. This is for convenience divided into month-weeks comprising four “circadian days” of 100 kiloseconds (~26 hours), with the remaining three kiloseconds added on to the last day of a month-week to keep synchronization.

[discotenny]

WAIT! You can't love me! - Day 1 Demo

I've spoken about it long ago in my tags- but here it finally is! For Otome Jam 2024- I bring you WAIT! You can't love me!

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩ Synopsis⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

For all of your academic career, you were always second best to Satoshi Fujihara. And while you seemed to care too much about it, he never seemed to care at all. In your final semester of community college together- he suddenly says he's going to confess to you in four days!

Do you choose to accept his feelings, or is this going to be the one time you can get the upper hand on him? 

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩Demo Features⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

A completed Day 1 of 7 days of events

13k+ words of playable script - roughly an hour to experience everything

A nameable MC with the ability to pick from she/he/they pronouns

1 cute romanceable sleepyhead 

A variable cast of eccentric side characters

4 "routes" for the Day 1 date

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩Characters⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Obnoxiously smart, aloof, hopelessly in love, hella sleepy

Ever since high school he’s had a crush on you, but didn't want to deal with any awkwardness. With the horizon of your transfer looming, Satoshi decides to go out of his way for once and ask you out. Not wanting you to be nervous, he lets you know beforehand that he will be confessing.  

Unfortunately that’s not really how it should go but he doesn’t know that.

Incredibly stubborn, incredibly dense

Throughout high school, you were always labeled as “second best” compared to Satoshi. You have a lot of pent up resentment towards him because he never seemed to care about his successes despite you wanting him to so badly. 

You think his carefree attitude towards his studies is some level of spite towards you. 

Elias Bolkiah - 5'8" - Same age as MC - June 7th - 491/524

Your childhood best friend with an unreasonable amount of hatred towards Satoshi.

Lilit Alighieri - 5'10" - One year older than MC - November 27th - 10/210

Considers themselves in a best friend trio with you and Elias. Questionable whether you feel the same.

Paden Canmore - 5'5" - One year younger than MC - June 1st - 45/120

Couldn’t care less about your love life but feels dragged into it because he likes that Lilit includes him in their gossip.

Yamato Suzuki - 5'9" - 49 - January 17th

Your statistics professor and advisor for the art club. Cares for his students like they're his own children.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩Credits⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Iotenny - Director, programmer, lead writer

kezukaity - Sprite artist

Autumn - CG artist, co-writer

mellonaes - CG artist

itspsyklone - Main theme composer

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩Final⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Thanks for reading, and thank you so much more if you choose to play :3 ! I'll be posting some writings revolving around the characters to celebrate the release, thanks once again <3 !

[inexplicifics]

Hi Inex! I've so been enjoying all of your stories (yes, I'm rereading everything again), and I was trying to find the snippet you posted ages ago of an AU where Milena's father tells her he'll marry her to the next man who walks in the door, but I've had no success. Do you happen to know where it can be found? I loved it so much.

I don't remember where the snippet got to - Tumblr's search, as you know, is very bad - but I do know what fic you mean.

It went and got Complicated on me, but I do want to finish it. I know roughly what I want to do with it, if it will just cooperate.

And since you asked, here's the first few paragraphs, featuring the Duke de Roggeven being comprehensively terrible:

“You dare to disobey your father’s orders, you useless slut?” someone bellows. Lambert rolls his eyes. Ugh, one of that type. Probably worships the Eternal Fire, too. Jackass. He stomps on down the corridor, noting idly that the shouting is getting closer. “You dare to refuse a marriage to a lord of such stature, you insolent baggage? Very well. Very well! Then by all the gods I swear, be he whoremonger or witcher, you shall marry the next man who steps through that door!” Lambert, who has just swung the door in question open and stepped through, stops dead, staring in blank horror at the lord of the manor and the girl cringing in front of him. The lord whirls to stare at Lambert, and his face twists, going through three or four contortions of rage and vicious satisfaction, before he spits, “I said whoremonger or witcher, did I not? Very well.” He raises his voice. “Get me a priest, you useless dogs! My daughter shall be married this very day and hour!”

[everettswritings]

i saw the post about closing requests, but i just wanted to leave this here- dont feel pressured to do this one, you can finish whatever you have left first! i can wait :] anyway, for the request itself:

I NEEEEED MORE LEE SHADOW MILK PLEASEEE WHETHER ITS READER OR JUST CANON CHARACTERS WHATEVER JUST GIVE ME MORE 🙏🙏🙏🙏 AAAAA

This was definitely a while ago, so you definitely get a cookie after the wait 🍪. And YES! WE NEED MORE LEE!SHADOW MILK! I want this twink completely WRECKED by 4:00. (NSFW/Kink accounts DNI) Also, this is pre-imprisonment

The Five Heroes, now known as the Five Beasts. It feels like just moments ago they were reigning in an era of peace that would last for eons to come, but now their powers were being used to crumble the freshly-baked world around them. However, did this corruption completely strip them of who they once were? Maybe not…

They were all gathered at the Ivory Pagoda, discussing who would do what with their respective pieces of land. As per usual after his corruption, Shadow Milk Cookie was figuratively and literally bouncing off the walls, acting like a butterfly hopped up on sugar. He was cracking jokes, finding it impossible to keep still, and everyone was starting to grow annoyed. Even Mystic Flour Cookie’s apathetic persona was faltering, her expression souring as if she ate a lemon.

Eternal Sugar Cookie sighed “Always active, like usual… Why not let the comfort of sloth envelop you? Why not let it all go and-“ Shadow Milk Cookie interrupted her “WHY’D THE SLOTH CROSS THE ROAD?!” He didn’t await a reply “HE DIDN’T! HE WAS TOO SLOW TO CROSS!” He started laughing at his own joke, meanwhile the others didn’t even crack a smile. The Beasts shot each other knowing glances, like they were forming a plan without even speaking; they always had a bond like that, even in madness. Without a word, Silent Salt Cookie snuck up behind the jester without making so much as a single sound and grabbed him. Shadow Milk Cookie gasped at the sudden grip on his arms “O-Oh! Hello, Silent Salt Cookie! S-Still giving us all the silent treatment?” They chuckled nervously, subconsciously knowing what was about to come.

The other three gathered around as Shadow Milk Cookie had his arms lifted above his head, “Shadow Milk Cookie,” Mystic Flour Cookie addressed him “Your antics may be welcomed elsewhere, but not in my sacred temple. We are all fed up with you acting so childishly; now you get to pay a price you know all too well.” The Beasts readied their hands and the jester squirmed wildly, though he was unable to break free of Silent Salt Cookie’s grasp. “W-Wait! Guys!” Their voice cracked with panic, but as the others approached, they knew their fate was sealed “Uh oh.” Was all they could say. Seconds afterwards, the jester started to howl with crazed laughter; but not laughter at his own jokes.

Burning Spice Cookie was roughly scribbling all over his stomach, Eternal Sugar Cookie was lazily scratching at his armpits, Mytic Flour Cookie was running her fingers across his sides and ribs, and even Silent Salt Cookie joined in by rubbing against the jester’s palms.

“AHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA! HEHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHEEE!! STOHOHOP! NO!” Shadow Milk Cookie squealed, instantly overwhelmed by the other Beasts attacking his spots this way. Their methods were so different, but equally vicious! “MERCHEHEHEHEY! HAHAHAHAHAHA! AHA! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MOREEE!!” They pleaded onto deaf ears, but it was ultimately useless, the others wouldn’t stop for a good while.

After what felt like hours, but what was most likely a couple minutes, the others let the jester go. Shadow Milk Cookie flopped to the floor, unable to speak or breathe without wheezing. The other four sat beside him, tiny smiles on their faces. To answer that question from earlier: maybe they didn’t lose who they were, even in this state of madness. If only that sense of camaraderie had been enough to save them…

I can’t wait for the other Beast cookies to come out, this was all headcanons because there’s literally NOTHING about them besides Shadow Milk and Mystic Flour! I NEED MY SILLY LITTLE AGENTS OF CHAOS! Anyways, hope you enjoyed. That’s all, have a good one 🫶

[beardedmrbean]

The Market of Sweethearts has nothing on Brooklyn’s seedy Penn Track.

East New York’s notorious open-air sex market has seen an explosion of scantily clad prostitutes in the area near Pennsylvania Avenue, prompting a local pol to plead for cops to crack down as parents are forced to shield their children’s eyes and residents wake up to used condoms scattered across their condo parking lots.

“We need the same attention the police department is paying to Roosevelt Avenue, to bring it out to East New York … to help address the issue,” City Councilman Chris Banks told The Post.

The Post encountered nearly a dozen skimpily dressed hookers Wednesday night, standing beside parked city Sanitation Department and semi-trailer trucks along Georgia and Malta avenues, bringing sleazy drivers to a stop and even jamming up traffic as they chatted up potential johns.

“You’d like to hang out?” one prostitute, who wore black platform boots and a tiny skirt exposing most of her derriere, asked a Post reporter.

After offering sex for $120 or oral for $85, she advised, “I know a spot we can go,” before being turned down.

Another woman on the block promised a good time in the backseat of the scribe’s Chevy Malibu for $140. 

“You don’t have tinted windows? We’re going to have to fishbowl it,” cooed the sex worker, who wore thigh-high boots along with a red and black leather jacket.  

Longtime locals bemoaned brazen prostitutes hawking sex in broad daylight, less than four blocks from PS 306.

“Had there been an early response to this, it would’ve brought the activity down, [but] it’s been allowed to fester over the last couple years,” said a frustrated Banks, who supported the recently passed hotel licensing bill aimed at cracking down on “bad actors” profiting off the illicit sex trade.  

Through Oct. 27, police have made 18 prostitution-related arrests along the Penn Track, including 12 for patronizing prostitutes, compared to 19 during the same period in 2023, with 16 johns being busted. During this period in 2022, just four arrests were made in the area, all for prostitution. 

Migrant women staying in nearby shelters are believed to be fueling the prostitution surge at Penn Track, historically the domain of young black sex workers, Banks and a women’s advocate said.

The prostitutes are being extorted by pimps, the advocate explained — some of whom have been busted for allegedly forcing girls as young as 16 to work the streets and gunning down rivals in flesh-peddling turf wars. 

“It’s all pimp-controlled,” said the advocate, who requested anonymity. “You can’t work independently there.”

City Hall and the NYPD have made “a lot of verbal commitments” to provide additional resources for tackling the prostitution in his district, but “we haven’t seen the boots on the ground,” Banks said.

An NYPD spokesperson said police have focused their patrol efforts in the Penn Track area and will continue to address the issue.

City Hall spokeswoman Kayla Mama said Mayor Eric Adams “has made it clear that lawlessness, particularly the exploitation of women, will not be tolerated or ignored.”

While roughly 50-plus cops were seen patrolling Roosevelt Avenue on a Wednesday night two weeks ago, The Post observed only a pair of cops in an NYPD cruiser and in an unmarked car around the prostitution hub over the course of four hours Wednesday.

“Be careful,” two officers in the unmarked sedan warned a reporter they initially believed to be a john. “You don’t want to be in The Post.” 

[etirabys]

I've been absent from tumblr for nine days because I was in Philly for a 800 person twitter con (whose constituents roughly map onto the rationalist tumblr diaspora, culturally). I was tweeting up a storm in conjunction with meeting twitter people irl and barely checked tumblr.

The con itself stretched over a long weekend, but I arrived four days early for preparties and stayed two days for postparties. I am on the plane right now, returning home. I got about twelve weeks of normal socializing in nine days. In the last four days I was taking small amounts of Ritalin to get through the day. That sounds bad, but that's how much I valued talking to weird internet people and having unique interactions that you cannot have outside of festivals.

The last iteration of this con last year had 300 attendees. At the time, I had 180 twitter followers, mostly from the times tumblr melted down and everyone including me advertised where they were elsewhere, as insurance. I munchkinned the hell out of socializing at the first con, got an additional 100 active followers that provided enough attention for a self-sustaining poasting reaction, and am at 2500 now.

I'm approximately the same person on twitter that I am on tumblr, except I don't post my erotica (my twitter followers skew more heavily male, so I'm less willing to be sexual) and I'm more strategic about seeking clout. I like to think I stay away from the clout-chasing things I find really gross (like having takes about politics nonstop, or starting beef), but I currently treat getting twitter followers as an enjoyable game.

It's nice to have a place where I'm explicitly seeking power, as it is nice to have a place (here on tumblr) where I'm explicitly not. My tentative plan is to hit 10-20K and then push the "trying" lever to off. I know a number of "microcelebrities" who get no stalkers or murder threats, but can go to just about any major city and have a place to crash, or people to show them around. That is what I want for myself.

I explain this not very flattering thing as context for what the con was like for me.

Most of the time, I exist socially the way most people do – avoiding risks and being discreet with dissent to keep the peace. I think people go to events like this one or Burning Man to get a freaking break from having to do this – as long as the con is full of reasonably mature and interesting people, the atmosphere becomes wonderful when they coordinate to drop the pretense for a week. I ran into a person who had a bad interaction with my acquaintance a few years ago, and told him I thought poorly of his actions but wanted to hear his side of the story. (The ensuing interaction was illuminating and pleasant.) A guy came up to me and observed that he'd made several conversational bids this year and last year, I had seemed to dislike this every time, and asked if I would prefer he never approach me again. We proceeded to have an extremely autistic debugging conversation, in front of several of his friends, about whether we should speak again in the future. (The solution: yes, he can try again, but pick a question from Askhole – don't inflict small talk on me.) I ran up to Famously Evil-Alien-Vibes-Having Economist Robin Hanson and said, "I have nothing to say to you in particular, but I find you interesting and I want to hang out," and then we argued for an hour about the fertility crisis. After asking for blessing to say something negative, I told a blogger whose blog post that I'd otherwise really liked that there had been one aspect that I found disingenuous. We had a good back and forth after I said this.

What I found so addictive about this con is that my popularity-seeking drive and my honesty-seeking drive – both of which I somewhat repress most of the time – were not only expressible, but in harmony. It is quite inappropriate to be super open and openly autistic in most social contexts. Here, I could say exactly what I meant, and as long as I delivered it in the right way, people would like me for it. The conversation where the guy started with "You don't seem to like me, should I never talk to you again?" should by most predictive measures have been awkward and unpleasant – but I got the sense, steadily, that he (and his friend who eventually joined in) liked me for how I was responding to him. All I had to do was, literally, just say what I really thought, and it somehow all worked out.

[goodeapple]

👉👈 will you ever do another modern aemond similar to the one you wrote earlier this year? if not modern, another oneshot of the couple 🥹 your works are amazing and i miss them a lot but i completely get it if you're busy. just wondering if you're open to the idea of releasing one within the year

friend, you asked this in such a lovely way, i appreciate you. life is lifeing rn... BUT YES!! i want to post a full modern fic soon but for now, enjoy a little sweet treat <33

“such a charmer, my brother.” aemond rolls his eye, taking a healthy swig from his glass. ysilla stares at her drink, watching the currents of carbonation wizz up through the deep amber ale.

he smells good, his cologne distinguishable even under the reek of fried food and spilt spirits. the notes of oud and tobacco float through the stuffy air, a splash of citrus and a hint of rosewood following behind. the smell was always soaked into his sheets and ysilla had loved catching the linger of it in her hair when she was away from him.

she jingles her keys, spinning them around one finger and tapping her nails on the bar as she waits for her cousin. aemond wonders if she’s as nervous as he is. he doesn’t know what that would mean if she is. 

“when did you get home?” his voice is small and unsteady and he fucking hates it. hates that talking to ysilla, about something as immaterial as her fucking traveling, feels rocky and unfamiliar. she nibbles at her lip, eyes darting to him and then immediately dropping back down to her half empty pint. her lips look plump, glossy and juicy and aemond digs his nails into his thigh. 

“like four hours ago,” aemond leans forward a bit, because she’s damn near whispering and the band is testing out their sound and he wants to hear what she has to say. she eyes him warily, blinking a bit wide, and he rocks back in his trainers. his cheeks heat up and the hard crystal of the whiskey glass bites painfully into the groove of his hand.

“saw mama and joff before jace and baela threatened me with bodily harm if i didn’t come out and join them for a drink.” ysilla grins that soft little smile she does whenever she talks about her family. 

aemond goes for it. if she's talking to him, speaking to him, then she's real and she's not just a memory in his head. “did you fly? i assume so, since that’s how you lef-” 

“are we really going to do this?” ysilla cuts him off, laughing in a way that has no mirth. 

“speak like civil friends?” he swallows roughly.

"is that we are?” she cocks her head to the side, whip ready for his answer. her eyes flicker, magenta bulbs drawing him like a moth to a flame. “is that what i am to you?”

[emmedoesntdomath]

guess who found it in her to make a delanceys part three

HAHA

I WAS GOING THROUGH OLD NOTES I MADE ABOUT RESEARCHING OLD FAMILIES OF THE UNITED STATES AND WE’RE BACK ON OUR HISTORY RANTS BABEYYYYYYY

so! I’ve seen a couple posts giving ideas and headcanons about the delanceys’ backgrounds and ethnicities, and I myself have made TWO separate posts about their background, specifically relating to their father, familial income, and status in comparison to the newsies, but I’ve never explored their ethnicities/actual family history beyond immediate (partially because I had no historical basis, partially because I didn’t care). BUT. BUT. TODAY IS THE DAY THAT WE WADE INTO THESE WATERS, ARMED WITH NOTHING BUT OLD EMME NOTES, NEW INFORMATION FOUND ABOUT AN HOUR AGO, AND SHEER AUDACITY. YOU’RE WELCOME. 

to begin this expedition, we must start with a lil’ crash course of american history. or, pre-american history. 

fun fact- new york city actually predates the establishing of the united states! it was originally dubbed new amsterdam by the dutch, and was a city created purely for the flourishing economy and selling of goods. run by and for the dutch company, it slowly became a metropolitan hub of commerce with incredible diversity of languages and peoples. the british took control in 1664, renaming it new york, and turning it into an autocratic province. corrupt governors would routinely reward their favorites and give them land and influence. examples of these favorites include the jays (including the future founding father, john jay), the livingstons (who, for my hamilton fans, were related to the schuyler family, and who would one day host an alexander hamilton whilst he served as an aide de camp to washington), and, funnily enough, the de lanceys.   

right now you might be thinking, emme. what? their name isn’t even the same. and to that I respond, oh, yes, you’re correct- history has never changed a name through multiple generations EVER. don’t use any other major family as an example. clearly, they don’t count. or, or, emme, these are fictional characters, this was probably coincidental. mayhaps. but. isn’t it a little funny? isn’t it a little interesting that a show based so much in history chose that name? I think so. here’s a little more backstory. 

the de lancey family is/was originally from southeast england, and from the very beginning, they were well off. money, land, the works. then, when times got awkward in the good, ol’ land of the queen (ie. religious tensions), the de lanceys peaced out, and migrated to the new world. and, again, you’re probably doubting me, like, emme, you can’t just say they were there when you want them to be there. actually, I can.  

we know from censuses that there were de lanceys in the new york area beginning in 1740, with stephen delancey (HA. SEE? THE NAME CHANGED)(look em up, he’s important to this story)- whose descendants would retain his influence. 

the lovely little british colony becomes the united states of america in 1776, and the delanceys are proud patriots in the american revolutionary war, producing an american general by the name of oliver delancey, who was the great-nephew of our friend stephen delancey (and cousin to stephen’s kid, the 28th and 30th governor of virginia back when it was just a colony. still think this is a coincidence?). he had a kid also named oliver delancey, and from there, there was another couple generations of US soldiers. and then, after roughly 1800-1825, the delanceys just kind of…disappeared. poof. 

now, does this mean the family didn’t exist? no, absolutely not. they just disappeared from that higher class and state of influence. in fact, you can still find large amounts of delancey descendants in north america today. 

but to my point, we can say our delanceys disappeared around…1815. that gives us, what, roughly three, four generations before we hit 1899? and if our delanceys are maybe 17-20, then let’s go with three. that still leaves PLENTY of leg room for a father that works the trolleys and two kids who turn to their uncle for grunt work to make an extra buck or two. and- ta da! the history of the delanceys. surprisingly more complex and long that one might anticipate. 

(I donate this to @sparkedblaze and @noxexistant specifically xoxo)

[blueskiesandwindchimes]

Sister Sister Drama

So, I've only written one post so far about the ins and outs of my family. It a good while back and was called NOLA: The Narcissistic Trip. Anyway, I say that because today I need to vent about an issue that started a few weeks ago, and finally resolved itself two days ago by me deciding I was just done.

This whole scenario was honestly years and years in the making. So, I have to start by giving a little bit of background. I am the oldest in my family. After me is my full-blooded sister, S, followed by my half-sister on my mother’s side, H, followed by my half-brother, also on my mother’s side, W, followed finally by my half-sister on my father’s side, C.

I mentioned in that other post that I was considered to be the black sheep growing up. What that mainly entailed was my mother ignoring my feelings of fear and dislike for my stepfather, (father of H and W), who was super physically and emotionally abusive to me from the time they met when I was FOUR! My mom would tell me that I was just negative and weird when I expressed my feelings. She spread this message to my sisters and brother as well. My sister S, being the super popular type, decided to carry that label over to our father’s house, sharing that message with of me being weird and negative to our other sister, C. Now C, has idolized S for our whole lives, following her around like a little puppy, wanting to be her best friend, etc.

Even now, C is 32 years old, and still wishing for that relationship with S. The problem is, that S has no interest in having a close relationship with ANYONE in her family at all. S has two children, one starting high school this year and the other in middle school. None of us have any real relationship with her or her children and I gave up on trying to bring us all together a few years ago. S only allows us to see her children on family holidays and birthdays, keeping her and her children too busy any other time of the year. She and her husband take trips out of state to visit our cousins any weekend their kids are not involved in other activities, making having a relationship with them completely impossible.

For years, I struggled with my feelings about this because I wanted to be a good aunt and wanted that relationship. So now I can talk about the present situation. My sister C also has a child. Her and S are the only ones who do. C’s child is five and starting kindergarten. Even before C’s child existed, I’ve tried my hardest to build a relationship with C. But, because she still obsesses over S, and follows S’s example, I have never been able to bridge that gap. The problem has always been that all of this time, C would act when we are together as if she has no problems with me, while at the same time, not wanting to spend time with me or talk to me about anything, unless we were visiting dad, which we do roughly once every two months. I’ve always felt her staying closed off from me, I’ve just never tried to confront her about it until now.

By the way, I should also mention, S has not seen our dad in 15 years, since her wedding, which is a whole other story. S’s kids have never met their grandfather and think our stepfather is their grandfather. As a result, S sees C even less than she sees the rest of us. The recent story starts with C reaching out to S once again, wanting that relationship with her. C guilted S by telling her that she had not seen S in OVER A YEAR! And, the last time she did see S, S’s kids weren’t even there, so S’s kids and C’s child have only met once, and that was about two years ago. We all live within half an hour of each other so for that to be the case is just completely ridiculous. S feels guilty and invites C and her husband and child out on their boat. C instantly accepts and they all have a good time together.

One week later, Me, C, and dad all agreed to get together again, this time at C’s place. We normally go to dad’s place, but he is the one person who lives far away, a two hour drive away. So this time was a relief not to have to drive that far. Anyway, five days before this agreed upon get together, dad decides he wants us to go back to his place, because he bought his own boat and wanted to take us out on it. Me any my husband were upset because we were having temporary money issues and did not want to spend that gas money. Plus, the weather wasn’t supposed to be the best, so there was a pretty big chance we wouldn’t get to go out on dad’s boat anyway.

When I reached out to C privately about this manner, she immediately got mad at me, telling me that I was attacking our father by being frustrated with the situation. No matter how hard I tried to explain to her what I was ACTUALLY trying to say while also apologizing for having made her feel hurt, she refused to hear me. It got so bad that she ended up blocking me on FB. One of things that she had thrown at me as a defense mechanism during that blowup about dad was her saying that she feels that I never “check up on her”. What she didn’t know was that I had stopped doing that about a year ago, after an incident where I asked to come visit her and her child because she never invited me over herself. She agreed for me to come, and I’d thought it was a good day. But then later, I found out from our dad that she had told him that I had ruined her plans for that day and “didn’t I think she may have had other things to do?” It hurt me so badly but I never said anything to her about it because again, I’d been trying so hard to build that relationship, that I was willing to walk on eggshells so as not to push her away. I stayed upset through that weekend and did not end up going to the get together that weekend.

Then my sister H, who is not even related to C, talked to her and calmed her down. C unblocked me and I apologized AGAIN. But I noticed something. C never apologized back, first of all, and she also did not actually add me back to her friends list. I decided enough was enough and I going to back C into a corner and force her to admit she has never wanted a relationship with me. I was tired of feeling gaslighted and told that I was the problem.

So, six days after the get together that I had not attended, I texted C, asking to call her later that evening when she got off work in order to “check up on her.” She blew me off saying she’d be too busy. I waited two days and tried to do the same thing again. When she told me she was too busy again, I told her I was available to talk for a few hours. I got no response at all to that. The next day, it had been a little over a week since she’d unblocked me on FB. I went ahead and sent her a friend request and she accepted it immediately, followed by immediately posting a meme on her page that said, “People are scared to say stuff, but I’m NOT aaaand that’s why I only have 3 friends.” I ignored this and pretended I just never saw it. I waited until later that evening, to text C and pretend that I had not noticed until I’d sent her that friend request earlier that morning that FB had not just automatically added me back to her friend’s list. She never responded at all to that.

So the next day around lunch I texted “Wow you must be busy to not even be able to respond to me at all huh?” That’s when she exploded angrily that she was busy. I responded, “Hey, I was just trying to reach out and check up on you because you complained that I don’t do it. I figured you must want me to so that’s what I’m doing.” She then tried to lie and say that her complaining about that had been in response to me “bragging” that I do so much to try and be there for her. I went back and found this not to be the case at all, took a screenshot of it and sent it to her. She then tried to say she was too busy to argue with me to which I responded that I was not arguing, just clarifying that I had said no such thing and that her original complaint about me not checking up on her had come out of nowhere. I then told her she either wanted me to check up on her or she didn’t to which she responded that she didn’t and told me to leave her alone and that she did not want to be “besties” with me.

She didn’t realize that all this time, that’s all I wanted from her was for her to be HONEST about her feelings and not try to gaslight me by saying that I was the problem because of reasons such as that I don’t check up on her enough. I had now gotten what I wanted. So I told her “Thank you for finally being honest about how you feel about me.” She responded by saying that I was putting words in her mouth and I responded by saying I didn’t need to do that because she’d said enough on her own. That was now two days ago. There hasn’t been a response since. I also went ahead and rescinded sending her that friend request. We are no longer friends on FB. This has been very hard for me, because I do want a relationship with all of my nieces and nephews. But I’m not willing to be lied to and gaslighted by their mothers any longer in order to do it.

Me and H are still super close and I don’t have any reason to believe that will ever change. Neither of us have any children, but that doesn’t matter. H and I hang out usually a few times a month. I am happy to have at least one sibling that I am close with.

[skylermadness]

Volatili-Tea (Junkrat TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: January 29, 2023)

Original Description:

My half of a trade with A-C-Crowley on DeviantArt! His half for me was a Reinhardt TF that also functions as a companion piece to this story, which can be found here: DeviantArt I actually had this written roughly three or four months ago, back in October, but I didn't want to post it until both our halves were complete. Although funnily enough plans for this trade were being set up as early as summer of last year. Damn how time went by, huh. Writing this story was actually quite fun! So much so that I actually wrote it and edited it in its entirety in roughly an entire day. I don't know what struck me with that much inspiration to write something that fast, but it sure as hell was a fun one! Especially since I feel like this story explores a couple new concepts in my writing. Prosthetics in TFs, more complex bodily descriptions, and especially transformations in a public space. Makes me want to do more public setting TFs these days, honestly. Anyway, a very fun story to write, especially for a great friend of mine!~ ...I honestly kind of hate the pun in this story's title though...

   "And the winner of our third raffle of the day is… Matt, numerical designation 478! Please head to Big Bang Beverages in the northwestern catering sector to claim your prize."

   Despite being surrounded by crowds of convention-goers, Matt could hear the announcement loud and clear. It took him a moment to cross-check the number on his raffle card and the numbers played aloud on the intercom, but it was proven correct in an instant. Pocketing the card, his head moves up and takes a cursory glance around the area he was in.

   He stood within the middle of a boulevard of a convention center, not necessarily directly near any retailers or exhibitions. He was mainly roaming around taking in the sights and trying to understand the layout of this year's convention. Where he stood there were walking around left and right, individuals and groups of friends. Among the people in standard attire were various cosplayers ranging from video game characters to anime ones. As for Matt, he was just one of those individuals in casual clothing. A black long sleeved shirt, gray pants, and dark grey shoes.

   He begins to tread casually through the middle of the boulevard, relieved at the fact that he shouldn't be too far away from the catering area of the convention. His thoughts wander to the announcement, curious about what the raffle he won would fetch him. Admittedly he wasn't exactly excited, but more so intrigued.

   As the announcement entailed, this was the third in a line of raffles. It was also the third in about an hour and a half since the convention presumably began. The locations that each winner was deemed to head to seemed different with each announcement. Unfortunately, the only other one he could really recall correctly was one to someplace called the HoloDrome. But it leads him to wonder how different the prizes were amongst the winners.

   The lighting begins to brighten slightly as Matt closes in on the catering area. Smells of various foods begin to permeate through the air the closer he gets, and soon it's really all that can be smelt once he properly enters the region. The source of the smells range from the various concession stands lining the area, the rows bisected by tables sprinkled about the area. As he starts to walk through the area he adjusts his glasses for a moment. His eyes slowly scan for the place he was looking for.

   Matt whispers under his breath the name as he does so. Big Bang Beverages. A peculiar name, he thinks. Also not one he's familiar with. But then again he never goes around memorizing the concessions at these places.

   He's lucky that it doesn't take long to locate what he was looking for. A stand nestled between two other ones in the left row. It stood out particularly well because of how… average it seemed. As Matt started to step closer, he took note of the weird air that seemed to emanate from it. The front casing of the stand was completely black with no additional design flare. The stand's logo used the most generic font. It felt almost manufactured in a way. He tries to ignore that though as he finally walks up to the stand itself. 

   The internal portions of the stand were a silvery white and contained various tools for beverage creation, a few stacks of cups beside those tools. The only person within it was a man of average build and looks wearing what looked to be a standard button-up uniform. Matt took notice of a logo on the right side of the uniform of a company he can't quite pin down, but his eyes then drew to the man's name tag: Louis.

   "Hello!" the stand worker greeted with a smile.

   "Uhh, hey," Matt shoved a hand in his pocket and took hold of his raffle card. "I'm uh, Matt. Won the third raffle." He then holds out the card for the man to take.

   Louis takes the card. "478, wonderful!"

   Matt raised a brow. "Could've just called me by my name but alright…" he says in a whisper.

   Louis seems not to hear (or just practically ignore) Matt as the man bends down and trifles with something under the stand's table. Matt grew a little curious as the noises that accompanied the worker was metal clanking as something was inserted and unlocked followed by the hiss of depressurizing air. Louis then stands back up with a smile, a medium-sized metallic object in his hand. "Here!" He places the object onto the table and slides it closer to Matt. Matt looks down at it to inspect it.

   It seemed to be a flask of some kind. Circular with a cylindrical protrusion. Metallic silver with a light coating of… rust? Dirt? Something. Curious, he picks it up and is greeted with the noise of something liquid inside. Unscrewing the cap, his nostrils are filled with the familiar scent of tea. He peers into the container to inspect the liquid, eye widening as he notices small spherical objects floating within the fluid. Strangely, the objects within looked stylized. Black with protrustions on them, almost reminiscent to a stereotypical look of a bomb.

   "Boba tea…?" he asks no one in particular.

   "Yup! It's our unique Frag Bomb Tea, only sold for a limited time here! However, you also get the flask as well!"

   "Uhuh…" Matt presses the flask against his lips and takes a small sip. Tasted kind of milky and sweet, accompanied with a weird bubbly feeling to it akin to carbonation. It didn't interfere much with the taste though.

   "We thought with the grand event coming up later today we'd produce something for the occasion."

   Matt swallows the swig of tea and moves the flask away. "You mean that Overwatch IRL event or whatever?"

   "Yup! A lot of the stands here have been hammering the Overwatch-theming. That beverage in particular is meant to be reminiscent of Junkrat!"

   Matt nods. "I can definitely see it…"

   He lifts the flask back up and takes another drink, mind starting to wander. He was well aware of the Overwatch IRL event going on, although he barely had any real information on it. It was hyped up as some grand event for this convention, however the specifics behind it were all under wraps. Theories roamed around online about it being a complex costume contest or some form of roleplayish question panel. These were even a few outlandish ones like it being some kind of musical or something-

   His thoughts are interrupted for a second as he realizes a few boba cascades through his mouth. There was a flavor to them he couldn't quite pin down. It wasn't fruity, but it had a sweetness to it.

   Matt hums as he pulls the flask away again, a shiver running down his body for a moment. "That was weird…" he whispers before starting up another conversation with Louis. "Hey, what ingredients did you use in this boba? It tastes good but I can't exactly pin down what's in it…"

   Louis just smiles. It was getting eerie at this point. "Company secrets I can't divulge."

   "Well, alright…"

   "You should go enjoy the convention now! I hope you like your prize~"

   Matt tilts his head in confusion, a little confused at that last statement. It had a tone that felt like a 'go away'. But considering he had nothing else to really say, he might as well. He turns his back and walks away, taking another quick sip of his tea as he goes, unaware of the fate that lies ahead of him.

   Matt exits from where he came, heading out from the catering area and returning to the boulevard. All the while he occasionally takes small drinks from his new flask. He's never really had something like this before, but the taste of this tea was rather nice. He still kind of wishes he knew what was in the boba though.

   Strangely, with each consumption of boba, he also finds his body taking weird shivers. There was no noticeable temperature shift, he didn't feel cold, but for some reason he'd have a sudden shiver run down his spine. He tried to ignore it though. 

   Ultimately Matt decides to walk into the opposing region to the catering district. An area composed of various bits and pieces that didn't truly fit a singular theming. He found himself walking past a small tattooing booth on one side, and on the other side some random booth that seemed empty.

   Taking another sip from his tea, a few beads of sweat start to form on his forehead as now he begins to feel a warmth start to rack his body. "Ough, did the heat get turnt up…"

   The cause of this wasn't heat related, mostly. Rather it was because something was starting to change in his body. It was subtle at first, though. Arms and legs getting a little more defined, his torso and abdominals pronouncing a little more. Small amounts of muscle slowly expanding throughout his form. It was just enough to cause his shirt to start rubbing up more against his skin, body steadily filling it out.

   His leg feels numb for a moment, causing him to stumble a little. He quickly manages to stop himself before he falls though. "Ugh, startin' ta…" he stops to clear his throat. "Starting to feel kinda weird." Did his voice sound a little strange for a second? No, that can't be right.

   He tries to shake everything off as he continues his walk. He tries to roll his shoulders, his delts continuing to expand. Previously nonexistent muscle spirals around his arms. His biceps and triceps grow a little thicker, the muscles in his forearms doing the same as well. It isn't very long until his sleeves properly fill out. His musculature isn't the most impressive, but it is definitely noticeable beneath his clothing.

   A pressure enters his bones for a moment shortly after as they are forced slightly longer. The ends of each sleeve run further upward and away from his wrist. His left arm then starts numbing, a stronger numbness than what was in his leg. One that felt oddly permanent. He took note of this and, with what little strength he had left in that arm, transferred his flask to be held by his right hand.

   He stares at his hand and proceeds to grip and ungrip it. It was responding to his actions, but he didn't really feel it. A pang of worry entered him, but a part of him was attempting to rationalize this. As if to say that this was fine.

   He also noticed the new musculature in his arms. "Were my arms always this thick…?" he asks himself, a brow raised. They… must've been, right? 

   He shakes his head. He's worrying too much about this. It's fine, it's fine. He lifts the flask to his mouth again and takes a drink of it. With an exhale, his worries fade. It's fine!

   With a couple more steps Matt walks out from in between the two booths and into a smaller boulevard. He curiously looked around, finding a few more assorted booths. In the distance was a photo-op area, and he could just make out what seemed like a few autograph booths beside it. His head then turns a few degrees rightward, turning upwards as something else piques his interest.

   It was the only part of the wall that seemed to roundly curve outward. It also stood out as it was the only wall that wasn't colored beige, being a deep blue instead. At the bottom of it was a doorway that was blocked off by a few velvet ropes (as if that'd stop anyone), but as he looks further up he finds a massive screen with the Overwatch logo displayed on it. Beneath that logo was a number that was counting down. 

   "Ninety minutes…" he says, entranced momentarily. There's a fraction of him that kind of wants to break in there and roam around, perhaps cause some… mmph, he shakes his head and casts the thought away. Strange, he's never had that kind of thought before.

   He presumed that place to be the famed HoloDrome where the convention's key event was going to take place and decided to ignore it for the time being, taking a left instead. If he remembered properly, this would be the way to the exhib…

   Matt's leg numbs a second time and does so for a few seconds longer. He stops walking in order to prevent himself from risking falling, but still finds himself wobbling for a few moments until his leg regains feeling. He takes another sip from his flask and sighs. "My body's actin'-" he clears his throat again. "Everything's acting really weird today. Heck, I swear my voice sounds weird every so often…" It sounded like for a moment there was an odd shift in tone and accent in his voice. Such a notion felt absurd to Matt, though. 

   He starts walking again, and with each step his body changes more. His sleeves stretch a little bit more as a final bout of muscle growth is incurred in his arms. His hands were also catching up with all the changes, growing and stretching to become slightly larger than they were before. Changes in them weren't as impressive as other changes in his body as the only shifts that occurred were them getting a little meatier. At least, that's what was happening in his right one…

   The numbness in his left hand and arm seemed to be a result of a much greater change. Beneath the elbow the forearm rippled, skin and muscle seeming to squelch and tighten as the material upon it hardened. Pale skin deepened, orange fading in as his flesh was morphed into metal. The bottom end of that sleeve tore against the transforming limb, fabric shredding as metal continued to extend from the area.

   The associated hand's changes mirrored that of the arm, albeit it seemed a little more intricate. Fingers bulking, cell structure twisting into something inorganic. Mechanical joints rippling forth from his own joints, each finger splitting into a more mechanical and functional version of themselves. Rivets and screws bubbling and popping into place, everything reformulating as his entire hand was transformed into something mechanical.

   While feeling wasn't restored in that hand, Matt had a sensory perception of his nervous system having been connected to it. All he gave it was a cursory glance as he heard his shirt sleeve tear against it, a few bits of fabric slipping off the slightly weathered metal. 

   "Huh…" was Matt's only acknowledgement, his voice slightly lower and raspier at the time. For a second he thinks something is off, but shakes his head and looks upwards, continuing his walk.

   "Nice mech arm, man!" a random stranger says towards Matt as he walks. He stops for a moment and turns towards them, his mind trying to register the compliment. He finds it odd for a split second, but loses that feeling an instant later.

   "Th…thank ya!" he responds. Matt's eyes widen and he shakes his head again. "Jeez, my voice keeps gettin' weird…" He takes another swig of his boba tea and resumes his trek.

   He was roughly two thirds of the way to the exhibitors area now. The mechanics in his arm whir as he opens and closes it, a sense of newness settled in his mind despite himself having a conflicting sense of familiarity with it. Come to think of it, a lot of Matt's mind was conflicted, but every drink he takes from his flask seems to suppress it more and more.

   He raises his mechanical hand and pulls at the neck of his shirt. The body part was now starting to properly feel a little tight as well. Ridges formed in the black fabric as his torso began to push out slightly, pectorals properly emerging from that region. His abdominal region was also slowly growing out, although it was not as prominent as his pecs were. That area remained a little flat, although the ridges of a budding six pack were steadily etching their way across his form.

   The hem of his shirt began to rise further up his belly as a pressure settled in his back. Matt felt a little disoriented as the world around him started to adjust in some way. Looking down he saw that the ground was getting further from him, and his shirt was riding up his body. "Why did I wear such… small clothin'... Come ta think of it why am I… wearin'... Mphm…" he shakes his head again. Why did going shirtless sound… appealing just now? And his voice kept changing… why did it sound like it was bordering on an Aussie accent?

   He tries to ignore it and takes another drink. He starts to wonder how he hasn't gotten to the bottom of this, or how he hasn't even run out of boba. Everything about this is weird, but it's fine!

   As his shirt tightens a little more, Matt also starts to feel something stimulate his skin. A weird feeling of something leathery snake around his body, circling the sides of his torso and extending around his pecs. The chill of something metallic settles on the upper half of his back as something begins to materialize there. All it does is make his shirt tighten more.

   Stumbling slightly, Matt finally enters the exhibitors district. Various booths focused on the latest information regarding different medias lined this region. Much like everywhere else, people and cosplayers alike were doing their own things.

   Matt could sense eyes on his as he stumbled slightly into the area, him feeling his leg numb again. Walking started to shift more into hobbling as moving that leg had finally become hard to do. "God, I hope no one thinks I'm drunk…" he mutters to himself. Although this haze in his mind might as well make him drunk but like… there didn't seem to be any alcohol in this tea.

   With another drink he shakes his head. "Agh, who the hell cares about what others think!" he says a little too loudly, his voice growing deeper with each new word. A noticeable Australian accent was even settling into it. He garnered the attention of a few more conventiongoers, but many of them decided to look away.

   Matt shifts his flask to his left hand again, the metal of the flask clinking against the metal of his hand as he does so. A smile starts to plaster on his face as his eyelids start to move downwards a little. He places a hand in his hair and scratches his scalp a little, the man starting to feel a warmth etch into that region as well. "Damn, the heat's gettin' annoyin'..."

   Not as bad as Aus, though, he thinks to himself. He blinks at the thought though. "Urgh, what's with my… my mind today…"

   He stumbles again. Fuckin' 'ell-

   He tries to regain himself quickly, his pants becoming the next to tighten as similar changes swath that region. While his legs had already become a little more toned over the course of the past ten minutes, their changes were kicked into overdrive. More muscle loaded into them, albeit a similar size as that in his arms. Thighs thickening, the crus of his legs bulging as his calves grew larger. His legs also grew longer, his height increasing even more and the legs of his pants rising.

   He resolves to just stop moving, Matt feeling even more eyes on him. He looks around, a slight look of aggression in his face. "Oi, who y'all lookin' at?! Mind yer own business!"

   His outburst seemed to get most people to divert gazes away, although there were still one or two who seemed to watch. Matt didn't care too much at that point though, his own attention drawing to his legs. Shaking his head and blinking, his eyelids flitter a little. "Fuck, something is… nngh…" he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his right hand into his scalp. "N-no, 's fine-"

   Despite its numbness he could feel a heavy pressure compressing his left leg and foot, although it seemed more focused in his foot. Within a shoe, the foot was squishing and compacting, flesh, bone, and muscle twisting and squeezing. The associated lower leg was thinning at the same time, atrophying at a rapid pace and going beyond what would be considered human. 

   His flesh and bone hardened to a cold metal. It wasn't long until his left foot was warped into nothingness, structure fading into a thin and flat tip. At the same time, a yellow spiral coiled around the upper end of the newly created metallic peg leg. The end that connected to his knee bulged out, skin and muscle dislodged and reshaping. His kneecap practically split in half and became a metallic casing as his knee itself became a metallic joint, two massive screw-like connections emerging from it. A silver ring then bulged around the flesh above his knee region, becoming a clean connection to his knee prosthetic leg.

   He lifted the new leg out of his shoe and sighed before lifting his head back up. A few eyes were still drawn on him. "Ain't never seen anyone with a… a metal leg before??"

   He blinked again. His voice kept fluctuating but to a bystander it was clear it was being overtaken by something decidedly Australian. A few people continued to stay, looking worried, but Matt just lost the ability to care at this point. His new leg clicking against the floor, Matt continues his walk through the convention center, all while drinking some more from his flask.

   The toes of his remaining foot curled as he could feel his shoe get smaller. That foot was easily growing in size, steadily getting larger and thicker and pressing up against the cloth of his shoes even more.

   His eyes zip around the area of the convention center he was in, Matt's back arching as he was settling into a slouched position. Every so often he'd take a sip from his flask, but his mind kept jumping to weird thoughts he couldn't bat away.

   A more chaotic state of mind was seeping into the man's brain. He had already experienced such thoughts earlier but something about this felt overpowering. There was a desire to cause mayhem, to cause some form of destruction- But even then, some part of him still tried to keep such thoughts away, to retain some rationale.

   The almost manic smile creeping onto his face was a clear sign rationality wasn't winning.

   He runs another hand through his hair, rolling his eyes as his mind continues to descend into a state of chaos. Multiple ripple throughout his face as he walks, the structure and vibe of it shifting into something far from what it used to be.

   His broad structure steadily narrows out; lower jaw lengthening and chin sharpening as his skull shape is compressed thinner. Facial features shift and restructure; mouth widening, ears noticeably pushing out, his round nose sharpening to a dull point while a mole formed on the left side of it. The feeling of his face squeezing and shifting felt almost euphoric to him for some reason. 

   He blinked his eyes, his eyesight seeming to improve drastically. As it does so his irises seem to brighten to a bright greenish-yellow, and his eyes seem to sink into his head slightly. His eyebrows flare out and, starting from the tips and moving down, brighten to a dusty blonde. Brows grow thicker and bushier, the ends styling, spiking, and curling to something almost flame-like.

   Speaking of flames, the heat on his head seems to progress until a dull flare enters it. Brown follicles throughout the peak of his head and down slowly burn away in an oddly symmetrical pattern. It's not the most drastic of changes though as what remains of his hair seems to stay in a perpetual flame, those follicles lengthening and sticking out higher. The style shifts from neatly combed to a cataclysmic style of stuck up hair that in itself was reminiscent of a burning fire. At the same time, the color shifts as blonde overtakes browns at a quick pace, and smoldered black enters in certain points as well. 

   He pulls off his glasses and crushes them in his mechanical hand, letting the fragments and frame clatter to the ground shortly after. "Don't know why I was wearin' those!" He then stopped for a moment as he started to feel his shirt tighten more. "Oohoh what's…" he closes his eyes and moans slightly, smile faltering and voice cracking for a second. "What's going on…"

   Something started to push from his back, pulling his shirt to his front at a steadily increasing pressure. More and more this grew, small tears forming and expanding territory to reveal his chest. What looked to be a harness grew visible with each passing second. The back of his shirt was gaining a noticeable circular indent that only seemed to grow as whatever was forming was getting bigger, bigger and bigger.

   The faltered smile restores to its manic glory, his eyes widening. "Heh… heheheh- this is feelin' goooood…"

   His shirt continues to tear apart over his chest at a constantly increasing rate. Black fabric was easily sloughing away as whatever was pulling at it still got larger. He could feel a weight forming as the size was becoming evident, but the sensation of his constricting clothes being torn away filling him was pure ecstasy. The circular formation in the back of his shirt continues to grow some more before it convulses for a few seconds. A cacophony of tears echoed through the air as one final crescendo, and a loud bwoomph! accompany them from behind him.

   The man twitched slightly as he regained his bearings. His head turns slightly to glance at the newly materialized object. A large circular chunk of rubber with metallic spikes sticking out of it. "Ah! My RipTire~"

   He can feel the eyes of others on him again. They were accompanied by whispers that he felt were almost judgemental (even though in truth they were of worry). A part of him flares up, wanting to show them a thing or two… He shakes his head. Some sense of rationality still stubbornly remained. He sneers as he walks further down. 

   More feelings started to run through his body as various final changes ran through it. He felt something appear around his right wrist, a tire-like band appearing before a substance exploded out the top of it and wrapped around his hand and hardened into a leather glove. On his left arm something inked into the flesh of the upper arm, a concise image forming as a skull and crossbones tattoo forms on the skin. At the same time, the fingernails of his remaining hand darkened to black.

   A new material soon grazed the skin of his legs as what seemed to be a new set of legwear started forming beneath his current set. Slightly scratchy fabric rubbing up against his skin as it threads itself around each leg. Something about this seemed to cause his current pants to begin to rip, revealing the camo pattern of the new pants.

   His current belt buckle then snapped, the button of his pants breaking and zipper descending as a new belt buckle materialized beneath the region and pushed everything out the way. An even greater sight of destruction occurred to the left side of his, a lump forming in that side of his pants before it floomf'd out into a pouch. Slowly, the remains of his old pants start sliding down and making way for his new legwear.

   The feeling of bandages wrapping around his right foot ran through that area, followed by the feeling of something else encasing it. Something akin to the top line of a boot slipped around his ankle and rose from the top of the shoe, hinting at the nature of what formed there. His shoe underwent its own pressure as result, the footwear pushing outward being forced to a new limit. The straps snapping, cloth ripping. The shoe couldn't handle it anymore as shortly after the cloth shattered revealing a new, if not ill fitting, boot; black in color and leather in material. He wiggles his toes at the sense of freedom.

   Shreds of his former legwear sloughing off more, his new pair of pants seem to fully reveal themselves in their glory of frayed legs, camo coloration, and various patchings stitched around them. With one last drink out of his flask Matt clips it to his belt, content. Although really, is he Matt anymore?

   His mind was practically overtaken with an irrational desire to destroy something. The very thought was no longer concerning, but instead rather appealing! It was an intense feeling of mental pandemonium. Of an overpowering desire for causing havoc.

   A voice begins to echo through the massive convention hall. “Can Matt, numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector. We repeat…”

   He stopped walking and planted a hand on his head. His voice cracks, likely for one last time, as it shifts into a mix of two voices. "I… that’s my… eheh… heheheh~"

   Crazy laughter escaped his throat as his mind finally snapped. His voice settles into a perfect Australian accent, and his mind settles into a perfect manifestation of madness. A truly explosive personality! As a result, a new identity was nestled into his brain.

   “Matt? That ain’t my name! The name’s Junkrat…!”

   A few more glares are thrown his way but at this point they are no longer lingering. With a frenzied smile he looks around the spot he stands in. He had no recollection of where he was or who any of these people were, but… 

   He feels a weight push onto his torso, prompting Junkrat to look down at the source. His grenades… 

   “Heheh, maybe just one…”

   His thought pattern is broken when he’s suddenly acknowledged by a set of strangers.

   “Nice cosplay, man!” One says, prompting Junkrat to turn around. The one who spoke was a slightly burly looking man, dark skinned man with fake-looking blue armor and an orange scarf. Accompanying him is a woman in some kind of blue and gold dress (or at least that’s what Junkrat thought it to be). She also seemed to have a prosthetic arm (which Junkrat wasn’t aware was fake).

   “You’ve got the acting pretty well~” The woman begins to take out her phone. “Mind if we get a picture with you?” 

   Junkrat raises a brow and smiles. A picture? With him? Such a proposition was stroking his ego. “Sure!”

   The duo gather around him, sandwiching him between themselves. The woman holds out her phone and holds up a peace sign and the man smiles. Junkrat smiles as well, although his is more maniacal. After a few seconds a shutter sounds emit from the phone, the picture being taken, and the duo break away.

   “Thanks a lot man!” The man said, smiling and walking away. The woman follows behind him, letting out a “Yeah, thanks!” as she departs.

   With that dealt with, Junkrat proceeds to turn around and eye the convention hall. With that distraction out the way, he can-

   “Can uh… Junkrat? Numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector.”

   Junkrat’s face falls and he rolls his eyes. “The heck’s a HoloDrome…” he whispers to himself. “Eh, whatever, I’m sure it’s not important!”

   He begins to clasp a hand on a grenade pinned to his harness, eyeing a good (and preferably not crowded) spot to throw it. Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted a second time…

   A large, thick hand grabs his shoulder, followed by the sound of a deep voice muffled by a mask. No words were spoken, just an elongated guttural grunt.

   It takes a few seconds for Junkrat to register the voice, but once he does he somehow slumps more than he already does. “Roadhog! When’d you get here?”

   The gas mask they wear is emotionless, but Junkrat practically feels displeasure illuminating from the larger man.

   “Uh-huh… well Roadie, I think now’d be a good time to-”

   A third announcement rings through the walls of the convention hall, except this time it’s a more feminine voice in a clearly annoyed tone. “Junkrat, numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector immediately. Precautionary measures will be taken if you do not heed to this announcement. God, this is so FUCKING annoyi-” the announcement then abruptly cuts off.

   Junkrat can practically feel Roadhog’s gaze pierce his very form. He turns to Roadhog and smiles nervously. “Heheh, guess we should head there then…?”

   Roadhog nods, then lifts an arm and points in the direction forward to him.

   Junkrat turns around, vision centering at the outwardly rounded portion of the wall. A large screen that was even visible from where the two were displays a weird circular logo with a bunch of numbers below it. “I guess we’re going there then!”

   The two begin to walk towards their destination, garnering gazes from the conventiongoers. A silence settles between then for a second, one that was quickly broken by Junkrat.

   “...how do you know that’s where we’re supposed to go?”

                                        ----------------------------------------------------------

   Even to Junkrat there was an uneasy feeling of artificiality in the location he now was in.

   Despite it clearly looking like the outside, the lack of proper heating or fresh air was noticeable. Nonetheless, it looked like the perfect replica of some small village that he had no idea was an actual place or not. He was also apparently put in a team of some kind. Said team was prompted to sit around some weird looking truck. That was a long time ago though. Now he’s just alone, leaning on a wall, fingers itching to cause some destruction. Roadhog had left a few minutes prior, presumably to inspect the area a bit more. The larger man was likely assured he could leave the Aussie alone after Junkrat failed to blow up a wall. He was still seething about that incident, by the way.

   He watches the rest of his teammates communicate amongst themselves. There were only six of them including him and Roadhog. He didn’t really get any of their names though. There was some older looking dude in a mask, a dark skinned guy with dreadlocks, an Omnic that was surrounded by gold orbs, and…

   A hulking guy in armor walking right towards him.

   “Ah! I don’t think I’ve gotten a chance to introduce myself to you…” The man speaks in a deep and boisterous tone with an unfamiliar accent lacing it. His face is shown to be pretty old; weathered with thick graying hair and a beard. “The name’s Reinhardt!” he says loudly, holding out a hand.

   Junkrat doesn’t hesitate to grasp it and shake. “Junkrat!”

   Reinhardt smiles. “It is nice to meet the both of you! There seems to be quite the colorful cast where we are…”

   “I dun even know where we are, big guy. I just have the itch to blow something up…”

   “I take it you were the cause of the explosion I heard earlier, then?”

   “Yup! Although it didn’ even do any damage! Everythin’ here looks like it’s made of wood and shit, a hole should’ve been blown clean through that wall!”

   Reinhardt nods. “This place has some peculiar properties. It’s an odd reminiscent of a place I have… memories of. It fills me with a feeling of uncertainty.”

   Junkrat’s eyes just slowly drift sideways, unsure how to respond to that.

   “Ough, I apologize. Went a little too personal there. Either way, I’m sure we’ll make a great team here!”

   Junkrat just nods. “Yeah. Do you even know what we’re doin’ ‘ere?”

   “...no. Not really. I actually kind of woke up…”

   Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by an accented, calm, feminine voice ringing through the area. “All participants please move to your stations. We will commence the event in five minutes.”

   Reinhardt looks up. “There’s that voice again…”

   “I don’t know what stations it wants us to go to, but I have a feelin’ I’ll finally be able to set something ablaze!”

   “You’re quite the eccentric one, aren’t you?” Reinhardt says with a deep laugh.

   But Junkrat doesn’t respond. A goofy and manic smile forms on his face, the Aussie filling with excitement as the prospect of causing some chaos enters his brain.

   This is going to be great…

[currently-stanning-bts]

Our Life Jay x reader

Jay x reader

Warnings: none! just fluff (may be some typos, so sorry in advance!)

Authors note: This took my a while to write, and a lot of courage to post it! hope everyone loves it as much as I loved writing it! Jay is my number one bias in Enhypen. Was drawn to him from the very first song I listened to by them (Drunk-Dazed). Please feel free to like and repost if you like it!!

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

You lived in Korea your whole life, and you currently worked as a stylist for Enhypen. In fact, you were seen as their best one. You had always loved doing makeup and hair ever since you were a little girl. Your mother had supported this hobby of yours, and put time and money into helping you get better at makeup. You had gotten so good that by your high school year big-name companies wanted you to come do the makeup of their models and K-pop artists.

This was a dream come true for you. You had worked with BLACKPINK, Itzy, Nmixx, Mamamoo, (G)I-DLE, and Girls Generations with female groups. You have also done the makeup and hair for a few male groups, such as Stray Kids, BTS, Ateez, Tomorrow x Together, and Seventeen. You wouldn't say you have a favorite, but you got along best with Stray Kids, your personality being similar. You were a social butterfly when you got to know someone, but like Han, you could also be very anti-social.

A few years ago Hybe Corporation hired you. They had seen all of the work you did with other models and idols. You worked in Korea, wanting to stay close to home, but on rare occasions, you would fly out to help with makeup for shoots and concerts. Other companies would pay you a lot of money just to do the makeup for some of their idols. But now that you worked with Hybe, companies would often try to get you to work for them by paying you more money. You had declined every time. Money did not matter to you because Hybe was considerate that your mother was now struggling with finances. After all, she had recently gotten sick, and if you had ever needed to have a break from work, they would gladly let you have it. Memories from several years ago would come back to you. This one just so happened to be your first time meeting Jay.

You were currently flying to Seattle, Washington. You got a last-minute call from Hybe Corporation asking you to fly to Seattle because several of their stylists had called out sick and they couldn’t get anyone else to fill in for them. So here you were about forty-five minutes left in your ten-and-a-half-hour flight. Hybe had paid for your plane ticket giving you first class so that you could sleep well on the plane. You had slept almost the entire time. You had this well-worked plan so that you would not have jet lag when you got to a new place. You would do an all-nighter the day before so that when you were on the plane, you would be able to sleep and be well-rested for when you landed. This worked well because you would take the day planes and when you would arrive at your destination, it would be morning. You spent these forty-five minutes researching the group you would be doing. They were known as ENHYPEN. You went to Spotify and started to shuffle their music. The first song that came on was a song called Drunk-Dazed, and you liked it. As you listened to their music, you did some research on the members. There was no clear pattern you were following, you just looked up different members trying to find out more about them.

First was Jungwon, he was the leader of ENHYPEN. He was born on February ninth, 2004, his height was about 179cm (5’9”). From what you read, he had trained for roughly a year and four months, he has a pet dog named Maeumi from the dog in the drama Heart is. He is a former trainee for SM Entertainment and BigHit Entertainment. His favorite colors are blue and orange.

Next was Heesung, he was the center for ENHYPEN. He was born on October 15th, 2001 making him a Libra. His height was 183cm (6’0”). Heesung trained for three years and one month. He is the only one with a solo dorm, he got it because he won a game of rock, paper, scissors between all of the members. You laughed quietly to yourself, ‘he must be living the life then. Not having to share a dorm and all. But I bet it gets lonely after a while,’ you thought. You continued scrolling trying to see if there was any more good information about him. Heesung is also a former BigHit Entertainment trainee. You wondered if Heesung and Jungwon had met there. He is also close to the members of Tomorrow x Together. His favorite colors are purple and ivory. He is in a friend group called ee-z with I.N from Stray Kids, Beomgyu from TxT, and Lim Jimin from Just B. His motto is “Let’s live diligently as life passes by”.

You scrolled down a little and saw a very good-looking male looking back at you from the picture on the screen. Your cheeks flushed pink, you looked at his name, Jay Park. He was born in the United States on April 20th, 2002. He was exactly 180 cm (5’11”). His training period lasted two years and eleven months. You learned that he knows a little bit of Japanese, and had learned it from watching anime. Jay trained at LP Dance Academy before joining BigHit. His favorite color is purple. His role model is Kai from EXO. He says he enjoys cooking and eating delicious foods and when he was young, he dreamed of becoming a chef. You giggled quietly, remembering when you once had the idea of becoming a chef. Being able to make people smile with your food. But you are glad you chose this path. It pays well, and you are able to meet so many different people. You scrolled a bit more to see his motto: “Live your life the way you were born”.

Just as you were about to scroll to the next member you felt the plane touch ground. You jumped in your seat, the rough landing making you grip the armrests of the seat of the plane. After about five minutes you made your way off of the plane, grabbing your carry-on bag on the way in the overhead carrier. After you were off the plane you made your way to the luggage pickup area. You had to pack clothes in your carry-on and put things like makeup, brushes, blow dryers, and many other things in the other bag. It was much bigger because it also carried one of your toiletries and your stylist uniform your mother had made for you a few years ago.

Finally, you reached the luggage pickup area, and that's where you saw three males waiting with your suitcase. You started to freak out. Your heart was pounding away from inside your chest so much so that you thought it would burst out. You walked cautiously over to the three males.

“Hello, I think you have my bag,” you said politely. They turned to look at you, “You are miss y/n?” a male in a black suit asked. You nodded, “yes, I am she. I’m sorry but I do not have time to fool around, I have places to be. I still have to check into my hotel. And I have a very early morning tomorrow”

“Oh!! You're really y/n?! Like no joke?” one asked, surprised. Once again you nodded. “Yes, as I said, now please,” you went to grab your suitcase's handle, “give me my suitcase please.”

“Did Jungwon not tell her that we were going to pick her up?” a tall male with dark blue hair asked the boy next to him. You paused, brows furrowing. “What? Did you say Jungwon?” He turned to you, his eyes wrinkled into little crescent moons. He was smiling, even if you couldn't see it due to the mask he was wearing, it was still obvious. “Yup, that's our leader,” he replied as if it was obvious. You paused. ‘Leader? Leader…oh my god!!!’ “Oh my god! Your ENH-” a hand quickly covered your mouth. “You can't just go throwing it around like that, we were barely able to sneak in here.” The male with black hair hushed you.

Your eyes widened and you nodded. He took his hand off of your mouth slowly. When you didn’t say anything he let out the breath he was holding. “Alright, we got your stuff, the car is right out front. You're going to be staying at the same hotel as us. Jungwon already had the staff get you a room.” the boy with dark blue hair said. “Alright, that sounds great,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to work with you guys!” The two boys’ eyes crinkled into crescent moons as they smiled down at you, “Yeah, we can’t either miss y/n,” The one with black hair said.

You got into the car and made your way to the hotel. Once there you went to your room which was on the 5th floor. You saw that the boy with dark blue hair was following you. You paused and looked back at him, “Are you obsessed with me already?” you joked.

He laughed, his smile was so cute, he had taken off his mask once he saw the hall was clear, “I’m walking to my room,” he replied, “It looks like we are right next to each other.” He said as he stopped at his room. ‘529’ it read. You looked at the room next to him, it showed ‘530’ in gold wavy writing. You took the key card out, unlocking the door. Before stepping in, you looked at the boy next to you. “Do you mind telling me your name?” You asked, and an embarrassed laugh escaped you. He laughed lightly, “sure, it’s Jay,” he smiled.

You paused. ‘Jay… like Jay Jay?! y/n that’s him!! OH MY GOD, THAT’S HIM!!! HOLY CRAP! Oh my god, you're going to be right next to the hottest guy you have ever seen!!’ your mind and heart started going a hundred kilometers a second. Jay noticed how you paused and walked a few steps so that he was right in front of you. He bent down so he was at eye level with you. “You alright y/n?” he said, concern evident in his voice.

You quickly snapped out of it, “Y-yeah, I’m g-” you stopped mid-sentence as your brain registered how close he was to you. Your cheeks and ears going as red as Chan’s hair had been. Jay laughed as he stood back up to his full height. “You know, you're pretty cute,” and with that, he unlocked his room and went in.

You stood there for a few seconds before you went into your room, cheeks and ears still beet red. Closing the door, you took a deep breath and took your shoes off. Walking over to the bed you flopped yourself down face-first, landing on the pillows. The embarrassment of what just happened flooding through your veins.

This was almost three years ago, you and Jay had gotten together and had been dating for a year. ENHYPEN had a concert in LA soon and so you were supposed to fly there two days before the concert. Several members of ENHYPEN were already there and exploring the city. This gave you and Jay some alone time together.

It was about 8 O'clock in the morning, you were snuggled up in your bed with Jay laying next to you, his arms wrapped around your smaller frame. His bare chest up against your back was warm, and since it was getting colder outside, it made you snuggle up against him more. The sun was peeking out from behind the curtains, slowly waking you up from your deep sleep.

You groggily opened your eyes, blinking the sleep out of them before turning around in your boyfriend's arms. You looked up at him. He looked so calm and at peace when he was asleep. You pecked his lips before burying your head in his chest.

“Good morning my Star,” a groggy voice quietly whispered, before you felt a light kiss placed on the crown of your head. “Morning my love,” you smiled, looking up at your boyfriend.

You could tell he was tired. You could hear it in his voice, as well as see it in his beautiful dark brown eyes. You leaned up to peck his lips, but he met you halfway, shocking you. The kiss was meant to be quick, but Jay placed his hand on the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You closed your eyes leaning into his, your hands placed on his strong chest. When you pulled away, you both looked at one another, you smiled, a small laugh escaping you as well as you shook your head, burying it back into his chest.

“You always have to take something cute and sweet, and make it into something hot and steamy, don't you.” you sighed, a smile still on your face. Jay laughed, and you felt his chest vibrate from under your hands. “I can’t help it,” he pouted, “you're just too hot for your own good,” You laughed lightly, looking up at him again. “Well st-” You were interrupted by his lips meeting yours once again, his hand already on the back of your head. You laughed against his lips before he pulled away, giving you one last quick peck before pulling you into his chest. You inhaled his scent, he smelled good, the smell of his body wash hitting your nose, making you feel calm. It made you drowsy, and you slowly fell back into a light sleep. The lack of sleep from your activities from the previous night still catching up to you. Jay looked down at you, a soft smile making its way to his face. He wanted to go ahead and get up because he had planned a great day for the two of you, starting off with a homemade breakfast which he was supposed to be starting right now. But he couldn't bring himself to wake you once more, so instead, he pulled you closer to him - if that was even possible - his chin resting on the crown of your head. “I’ll wake you in a few minutes Love, until then, sleep well,” he said, getting ready to get up. But instead of you letting him, you only held onto him tighter. “Stay with me, please,” you grumbled sleepily. Jay smiled down at you before cuddling back up next to you. “Of course cupcake,”

Several years later

You could not have been happier than you were right now. You and Jay have continued to date, things have been going smoothly. So smoothly that Jay had popped the question to you after his concert in LA, telling you he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life, even if he was young, he still knew that he wanted to be with you for the rest of his life. And of course you said yes. The ring was beautiful. There was a bright shining diamond, on the left side, small dark blue gems ran down the side of the band, it was representing your birthstone, Sapphire. On the right side clear blue gems ran down the other side of the band, before the two gemstones met and blended together in a beautiful sky blue color. About ten months later, you both got married. You had invited BLACKPINK, Stray Kids, Ateez, Seventeen, and a couple more groups that you had done makeup for in the past. The wedding was beautiful, and Enhypen ended up singing a love song Jay had written for you. He had written the whole thing, for you on the day of your wedding.

Once more, you both lay in bed together under the covers of the bed shielding you from the bitter cold of the room. Jay stirred when he heard the door leading to your bedroom creek open quietly. His eyes blinked open slowly. He squinted, the light from the sun affecting his visibility. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw your beautiful little girl standing at the door. She looked exactly like him, but she had your mind. Pure, sweet, comforting, and warm. Jay smiled at her, she smiled back.

Your daughter was getting ready to turn 6 years old. When Jay held her for the first time he was so nervous, it was honestly adorable. You had shown him how to properly hold your little girl, and he followed your instructions perfectly. The soft look on Jay’s face was so rare to see, but it was a sight that only you and a few of his members were able to get a true look at.

Your daughter tiptoed into the room, Jay lifting the covers for her to crawl in between him and you. She immediately snuggled up against your back, the smile on Jay’s face resembled that of the one the first time he held your daughter, soft, kind, and without a care in the world except for what was right in front of him, his two girls.

You felt a small presence behind you, so without opening your eyes, you carefully turned around in the bed, facing your, now, sleeping daughter. You peaked an eye open, and gave her a kiss on the crown of her head. Then you looked at Jay, who still had that fond smile on his face as he looked at the two of you. You motioned with your hand for him to lay down again, and he did. He wrapped both of his arms around you and your little girl. Before he drifted back to sleep, he placed a kiss on top of your daughter's head, as well as yours. A soft hum coming from you as you held onto your daughter and snuggled into her and Jay even more before drifting back to your dreamless sleep.

[bonesandthebees]

Spruce, you don't have to worry about missing me at all! I don't think we're that off either? I think we're about three or four hours off, give or take. And even otherwise I do read everyone's asks and posts so if you ever want to talk you can always just ask!

But yeah, I've been working through them. Gonna have to ask for an extension though, it'll take me an all nighter to finish all of this and I have classes tomorrow so I need sleep.

You know it's so funny, a year ago it was just spruce on this anon messenger board. Then spruce called for more, and sunflower and I showed up first and now we're this big bulletin board of anons (and Icy <3) just sharing things with each other! I do agree though, it is a downside that we can't interact with each other directly. I hope you don't mind too much, Bee!!

- ❄️

(haha catching up on older asks 😭)

you two seem to be roughly on at the same time and it's not uncommon for me to see your messages pop into my inbox around the same time so yippee for similar time zones

I hope you got that extension!!! make sure to be getting rest snowflake

I don't mind being the messenger board lol as long as you guys understand I might not be able to answer every messenger board ask I get or i just might not have a lot of my own commentary to add to it

[silver-wield]

Story time! I legitimately liked Clerith at one point. A LOT. I played the original game back in the day and I wanted to join the Clerith community. I did so on Discord and nearly instantly was put off by several things within the community, but I pushed it down and told myself I was overreacting. First, it was small things - like how they loathed Team Four Stars' parody videos because of how they treated Aerith. (1)

when in reality all of the characters were given shitty attitudes and backstories because ya'know it was a parody! It felt hyper-sensitive to me for no reason, so I kept it to myself that I loved the video series and went on. Next was how they hated Tifa and willfully misinterpreted canon and characters. Believe it or not I genuinely like Tifa - she's complex and has beauty and brains and brawn so I don't see anything to dislike. But I couldn't exactly say that to them, and any suggestion (2)

that Tifa was a good character got major pushback. I shut up. What really pushed me over the edge was one user I can't recall the name of so I won't guess, but she was a bigwig. I wanted to join a specific part of the Discord. It was advertised as "debate friendly" so I thought - okay finally here is my shot at speaking my mind while not being dog piled. I asked to join and she said basically she had to verify I was a real person so she needed my real Facebook. (3)

A little creepy, and a little odd I thought since I had been in the group for over a month and had caused no trouble (I learned quickly what was and was not okay to say) but I gave it to her anyway. Keep in mind I was a minor at the time. She came back to me and said "You look like my relative." This tells me she was snooping on my page since at the time my profile picture was actually my cat and any pictures of myself were buried some ways back. (4)

About an hour later she told me she denied my request to join because she saw where I had posted Tifa fanart months ago, and since my Facebook was only two years old (again, I was a minor and had only been allowed to get FB roughly two years prior to this) that she was convinced I was a troll. Insert youvegottobekiddingme. png here. I told her she was paranoid to which she went off on a paragraphs-long spiel about how the Clerith community has been prosecuted by Clotis for ages. (nearly done)

I eventually got tired and blocked her and removed myself from the group. Because of that, and another encounter I had much later (in which my sexual identity was mocked) and an encounter a friend of mine had in which she was goaded into crying over her dead husband when she dared suggest that even if Cloud did love Aerith it's cruel to want him to stay single and mourning for the rest of his life, I have thoroughly decided I cannot stand Cleriths. They made me dislike Aerith. (fin)

Sorry for the late reply, anon. I wasn't ignoring it 😅

Tbf I don't like Machinabridged either, but my response is to just ignore it exists. I don't think I've even watched the whole thing. I've never gone off at the team behind it, but then I rarely give a shit because whenever I do I get slammed by tons of people. So, always remember to never express an opinion that differs from the masses, but if you do express it don't expect anyone to be on your side even if they claimed to be your friends.

Yeah, asking for personal info is a huge red flag for me. Nobody needs to know that unless they have plans to use it against you later. That's why I never give out personal info to people. Cleriths generally use it to make sure people don't stray from their hard-line hating. "If you like Tifa, we'll tell the fandom who you really are" kinda shit mentality.

Honestly, it sounds like you were in the cult's discord. Those are things I've heard them do to people. They're legit terrifying en masse. I mean, most large groups are, especially when one person weaponises them against a single person. Fandom and social media shouldn't be a numbers game that people then utilise to push down those with lower numbers than them, but that's what it is.

What's funny is their behaviour makes people dislike Aerith, so you'd think they'd care about how they come across. But then again, they don't even like her, she's just a straw doll they shove in front of them so they can throw shit at people from behind her and then say she's the reason for their actions.

[junipersramblings]

An Aroace Perspective on the Problem of Playing "Hard To Get" (Vent post)

So, for those of you that don't know already, I'm an aroace cis female, and I'm a high schooler. Apparently, I'm also fairly good looking, but I don't really have any opinions on that and frankly don't give a shit about dressing to look nice unless it's because I want to.

As you can imagine, this is a great combination of traits /s

I'm putting the actual vent under the cut so if you don't want to read this you don't have to.

I've always thought the concept of playing "hard to get" was strange, even before I figured out that I'm Not Straight. My thoughts were always "why would you want someone who keeps asking you out after you say no? Wouldn't you want to date someone who just leaves you alone if you reject them?" and that remains my perspective today, knowing what I do about myself now.

As for why I'm making this post today? Well, I highly doubt he'll ever see this, as he doesn't know I have a tumblr, let alone my url, but if he ever does? Well, this one's for you (derogatory)

This all started near the end of Year 8 (I'm Year 10 now). We're in the same homegroup, and so we're stuck with each other for two hours a week, every week, until we graduate. We had an assembly and we were sitting in homegroup rows, the same way we always do. By pure chance, I ended up sitting next to him, and happened to overhear him talking with a couple of his friends about a girl he liked, until one of them saw me and said "dude she's right next to you".

His response to this was to ask me out to dinner. (Bear in mind, we're both barely fourteen at this point).

I said no, and he turned back to his friends, disappointed. One of them told him he "hadn't asked me out correctly". Nearly two whole years later, and I still don't know what that means. So he turned back, and he asked me out again. I don't even think he changed how he said it.

Shockingly, I said no.

After that, he asked me what my type was, and I said "uhhhh I dunno. Not you?", since I was still figuring out my sexuality at the time, and quite frankly had no fucking clue what my type was. He seemed disappointed again, but let it go, and that was it for a whole year.

Then at the end of Year 9, we were given the schedule for activities week, which was the final week of the year, and a way for everyone to relax. Everyone in Years 7, 8 and 9 would be split up into four roughly equal groups, and rotate through activities for the entire week. It was actually pretty fun tbh. We went to a water park and a swimming pool, and I ended up really enjoying myself.

But when we were given the schedules, I had the bad luck to be sitting next to the guy that this whole post is about. He asked me what my favourite colour out of the four options (red, blue, yellow and green, the usuals) was, and I said green, so he started talking about how we should both be in the green group, and it'd be like a date. At this point in time, we didn't even know if we could choose our groups (spoiler: no we could not). I completely ignored him, as by this point in time, I was pretty certain of my sexuality, and even if I was proved wrong, it wouldn't have been by him.

Once again, things were pretty chill for a while. A month or two ago, I overheard him talking to his friends about me again, and realised "oh great, he still likes me". Fun times.

Today was when everything went properly wrong though.

Him and his friends have developed this annoying habit of beating pretty much everyone, including the teacher, into homegroup, and locking the door once they're in, so I have to cut through the neighbouring room, which happens to be three of my closest friends' homegroup. (This isn't really necessary for the explanation, but two of these friends happen to be the ones mentioned in a minute)

So I walk in and unlock the door, my usual routine these days. In fact, I unlock, test if the mechanism that keeps it open is working, and prop the door open with the bin when it becomes clear that the mechanism is broken. While this is happening, the boy (who from now on will be referred to as Rat Man, since he kinda looks like one (but like the rats you see in new york sewers in animated films), and it's clearer than just referring to him as "the boy") and his friends are pretty much heckling me from the back of the class, telling me to be a rebel and lock the door, and then Rat Man calls out "DO IT FOR [FRIEND'S NAME]!" I stop and look at them, already pretty sure where this is going, and ask him what my friend has to do with any of this. He's not even in our homegroup for fuck's sake!

Our conversation goes pretty much like this:

Rat Man: You know, because there's a thing between you two, isn't there?

Me: What do you mean?

Rat Man: You're more than friends aren't you?

Me (to myself): Oh for fuck's sake.

Me (louder): There's nothing between us. [FRIEND] and I are just friends.

Rat Man and Co.: Sureeeeee

Me: We are!

Rat Man Sidekick 1: Oh he's just jealous.

Me: I can see that.

Sidekicks: OHHHHHHH

Sidekick 2: Wait, dude, if she's just friends with [FRIEND], then you have a chance!

Me (not missing a beat): No he doesn't.

Sidekicks: OHHHHHHHHHHH

And from there, they start suggesting anyone else I would go out with, starting with one of the other friends from the homegroup I cut through (who isn't even a boy, she's just not out to anyone except our friend group yet), then both of the sidekicks.

To absolutely nobody who has read this far's surprise, I said no to all of them, although I would happily be in a QPR with both of my friends that were mentioned.

The teacher's arrived now, and I get my name checked off on the role so I can go to the assembly about the snow trip that's coming up in a few months (big deal in Australia unsurprisingly).

After that finishes, there's about ten minutes of homegroup left, which I spend, in true Juniper style, writing a fic. (The Malevolent one!)

Afterwards, I confront Rat Man as we're walking to our next classes, none of which we share, thankfully, and tell him we need to talk. His friends respond to this by cheering and slapping him on the back because he's talking to me. They're mostly fairly stereotypical jocks, with the exception of Rat Man himself, who is one of the few people in our homegroup shorter than me (I'm 5'2) and wiry. Hence the rat comparison.

I don't even know how the conversation derailed so quickly, but in about a second, I'm being asked which of the three is the hottest, to which I respond with "None of you?" They insist I have to choose one, and I just shut up. They have to go a different direction to me, so I tell Rat Man we'll talk at lunch. I'm pretty sure I heard him shout "Love you!" as I was walking away, but I'm refusing to unpack that.

Lunch comes, and I eventually track him down, and ask him if he knows what aromantic and asexual mean. (Fuck you tumblr, aromantic is not spelt wrong)

I was prepared for a lot of different directions this could go, and so I'd made sure we were near a teacher if I needed the backup. What I wasn't expecting him to do was burst out laughing and nearly choke on his sandwich.

About thirty seconds later, once he's stopped almost fucking dying, and his friends have asked him what the fuck is wrong with him more than once, he manages to ask "Asexual? Isn't that what chickens are? You know, because they lay eggs?"

I'm starting to think he only passed Health and PE last year because he's good at sports and they count as one combined subject.

I explain what it actually means, and he goes "Oh, so you're rejecting me?"

Me: Yeah, for what, the second time today? Fifth time total?

One of his friends comes and pulls him away, and I'm already late for flute ensemble, so I go to where my friends are, we all have a mutual moment of "what the FUCK?" over what Rat Man thought being ace was, I eat my lunch, and go to flute ensemble.

Once that's over, I have Fashion Design, so I go to class and kind of just stare at the work I'm meant to do for half an hour, before the teacher asks me if I'm okay.

I ask if I can go to the wellbeing office, because I'm having a bad day.

I'd spent the entire lesson up to that point gradually feeling shittier and shittier about what had happened with Rat Man at lunch, since I REALLY hadn't wanted to come out to him, but it seemed like the only way I could maybe get him to leave me alone.

I don't even know if it worked.

I spoke to a teacher, they were really nice about it, and I'm feeling better now, but it still really fucked me up.

The thing about playing "hard to get" is it means that sometimes, some people just can't take a hint. They're so used to the idea of girls that mess around to find someone who will be loyal to them that they assume that's what everyone is doing, and then shit like this happens.

So yeah, fuck the whole idea of playing "hard to get". It's bullshit.