#I'm just imagining going back in time to myself a decade ago

[jyou-no-sonoko19]

(self-)defence mechanism

[justin-chapmanswers]

Sorry if this is a bit rude, but how do you consider yourself as he/they or they/he? I am questioning my sexuality and gender at the moment and seeing you (idk if ur lgbt) makes me find comfort, if you can, how did you realise you were not straight and how I can find mine! :3

Oh golly uh. Let's see if I can keep this short and then bury it under other answers. <3

Labels are fun cause they're so funky and ever-changing as you learn more about yourself. So, firstly, don't stress about finding something so perfect right away and bounding yourself to it. You're still you, any way you word it.

Gender-wise I'm in a state of def preferring they but being chill enough with he. Like whateverrrrr. It's hard to get around societal norms and perceptions, so my expectations are calibrated accordingly. I of course feel that for people who feel more strongly about a specific label, it's important to fight for it to be recognized whenever you're in a safe-enough environment to do-so. But for me, the concept of pushing for a specific label or, even more-so, of seeing other people pushing others to use a specific label for me is veryyyy anxiety-inducing. I tend to avoid spotlight when possible. But at the same time, a lot of it just comes down to not wanting to be grouped/perceived gender-ly at all. I tend to use the label agender. But I'm sure a lot of people have similar experiences with different labels. I just, ya'know, wanna be me.

Gender exploration is funnnn. There's no one right way to learning about yourself. Some people know from a young age, almost inherently, some people figure things out a lot later. It's never too late. Some people learn with outfits and styles, some with looking to people/characters who they want to be perceived more-like, some with experimenting through new names/pronouns and feeling-out how being called different things makes them feel. If you have friends you feel safe around with all of this, on or offline, can't hurt to say "hey would ya mind calling me x-name or y-pronoun for a bit?" And if you don't like it, you don't need to stick with it. But really be cognizant of it feels right to you.

Then on the romantic orientation side, that's been a much longer journey haha. I was calling myself straight through middle schooler, bi for a bit in early high school, gay starting in later high school, then for a long while. Nowadays I just say queer. Labels make things easier, until they don’t haha. For me, if you imagine a scale of feminity to masculinity with like little pegs running down the line from 0 to 10, with 5 in the middle, I tend to find myself attracted to people in like the 4 to 8 range? Something like that. But even that's not perfectly consistent! There's never going to be a perfect word for everything. That's why I like queer as an umbrella term. It's also just a cute word, I don't make the rules.

Hence earlier when I mentioned that you should just feel free to keep it open and not close yourself off. Maybe nothing'll change, but what if something does? But of course, I assume you're asking from more of a place of just starting this journey. I'm trying to get my mind back to where I started with that. I think the first time the not-straight realization hit was when a friend of mine didn't show up to an event and I was all like "why am I so miserably sad that he wasn't there?" And then a lightbulb appeared over my head and out-loud I said "aw damnit." And then things have been weird and confusing ever since.

But in terms of giving advice, it's hard to not just be like "uhh idk just hang out with people that makes you feel gooey." But obviously it's more complicated than that. A decade ago, I was taking random "am I gay" tests online. But they're kinda silly cause the questions on those would ask me to fill in information about how I feel, but how am you supposed to know how I feel without the test telling me how I feel??????? So realistically, I'd advise private journaling. Just take some time, even five minutes. Start now. Write out who you are drawn to, in any sense, and how they make you feel. Especially if you're like me and have trouble self-reflecting unless I force myself to. Like. In a Tumblr post.

There's so many ways to explore. It's also nice to look at relationships in life and media and seeing if you connect to any relationship or long to fit into someone's place within a relationship. That's why representation matters, baybeeeee! But also, ya'know, talking to people goes a long way to learning about yourself. Trial 'n error let's gooooo.

And above all: you got this.

[pickingupmymercedes]

I'd like to believe - Lewis Hamilton

Alternative sequel to Maybe in another life / When I get to meet you

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: mentions of mourning, angst, will make you emotional

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Alternative-ish ending (this was actually my first draft to continue their story, so the happy-ish one is the alternative, sort of).

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD TRIGGERING CONTENT UNDER, PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

My dearest little one,

Today marks ten years since you should have been here, celebrating another year of life. Ten times the snow has fallen, making everything quiet outside.

They say time heals all cuts, but some cuts go real deep, leaving scars that never quite go away. And I still find it hard to believe that a whole decade has passed.

You'd be so grown now, so full of life and curiosity, brimming with questions and dreams. I often wonder what you'd be like – would you have my stubbornness and determination, or your mother's grace and patience?

Maybe a beautiful blend of both, creating someone truly unique.

I’m going to visit your stone again later today. Leave this letter like every year. I suspect there’ll be fresh flowers, as always, probably from your mother.

She never forgets.

We never reconnected, not like I'd hoped for. But I think about her often.

I searched everywhere for her. I just really needed someone to share the pain with, someone to hold onto while everything fell apart. We tried talking, spilling out all our feelings, but the words wouldn't come out right. Maybe we were afraid of saying the wrong thing or making things worse.

Maybe we were both thinking the same thing – maybe if we'd done things differently, maybe you'd still be here.

After a while, the space between us just kept getting bigger, too big to cross. You see, your mom, she found a way to move on. She built a life for herself, a life where the pain was still there, but it didn't control her anymore.

I hope she's found peace and happiness, something she deserved more than anyone. She was an incredible woman, and I wish I had been the man she needed me to be.

I hope she reads these letters someday, that she understands how much I loved you both, how much I regret not being there when you needed me most.

Maybe one day, when the weight of these years starts to feel a little lighter, I can finally forgive myself.

Maybe then, I can find the strength to reach out to her, not to get back together, but to find some peace, a simple way to say thank you for the love we shared and sorry for the loss that tore us apart.

You know, life has changed quite a bit since I last wrote to you.

I'm with someone, have been for the past four years. She's patient, kind and knows about you. I don't think we'll ever have children though. She's got her own ghosts.

I retired from racing. Shortly after I won my eighth championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true, but also bittersweet because I couldn't share it with you. I work as a consultant for the team now, just like Niki was for me at Mercedes. You’d have loved him.

It's a different kind of thrill, guiding the next generation of racers, helping them navigate the same challenges I once faced, but it drives me forward.

I’d like to believe you’d be proud of your old man for that.

I sometime wonder if you would have been drawn to racing too, or maybe you'd have found your passion in something entirely different. Whatever it might have been, I would have supported you every step of the way and with all my heart.

I think about the things you'd enjoy often; you know?! The hobbies and interests you'd develop.

Maybe you'd love music, like your mother. She had an incredible ear for it, always humming a tune or singing softly to herself. It’s what got us close in the first place so many years ago.

Perhaps you'd have a knack for building things, creating something out of nothing with your hands and imagination.

Either way, I hope you'd have found joy in the simple things, just like I try and do now.

There's so much I wish I could’ve shared with you. So many lessons I've learned the hard way and would to show you. Life isn't always easy, my little one. It's filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures.

One of the most important things I wish I could’ve taught you is the value of love. Real love, the kind that fills your heart and soul, and is worth every bit of pain and sacrifice.

I had that with your mother, even if I didn't realize it at the time. She saw right through me, saw the man behind the driver, and loved me for who I was. I'd hope you'd find someone like that, someone who understands and loves you unconditionally.

It might hurt sometimes, but that's how you know it's real. Love isn't always easy, but it's the most beautiful thing.

I would want you to know that it's okay to make mistakes though. I made plenty, and each one taught me something valuable. The key is to learn from them, to grow and become a better person. But each moment, whether good or bad, shapes who you are.

I wish I could have been there to guide you through it all, to help you navigate the challenges and celebrate the victories. My motto has been “Still I Rise” for the longest time and if you wanted it could’ve been yours as well.

Life isn't about being perfect; it's about being true to yourself and striving to be the best version of you.

In the quieter moments I still dream about you, you know. In my dreams, you're a whirlwind of energy, your laughter filling the air. We go on adventures, explore the world together. I teach you what I know, and you teach me about everything else.

Those dreams are my sanctuary, a place where we can be together, even if just for a moment.

Sometimes, I catch myself talking to you out loud, as if you were right beside me. I tell you about my day, about the races, about the world. It might sound silly, but it brings me comfort. It's my way of keeping you close, of making sure you're never forgotten.

Even though we never got to meet, you are a part of me, and I carry you in my heart every day.

You are my greatest loss, but also my greatest gift. You've taught me more about love than anything else in this world.

Sometimes, under a sky full of stars, I imagine you up there with the constellations, looking down at me with curious eyes. And I need you to know that we love you still, deeply and unconditionally.

Ten years old. A whole person with your own personality, dreams, and wishes.

The world missed out on knowing you, and so did I.

But your memory, my precious child, it lives on. It lives on in the way I cherish every moment, every sunrise, every laugh shared with a friend. It lives on in the way I try to be a better person, kinder, someone who would have been a good dad to you.

This letter is my vow written down. A promise that even though you're not here, you'll never be forgotten.

Happy birthday, my sweet child. I hope, wherever you are, you're smiling, knowing that you are loved and cherished.

You are my light, my angel and a part of me. And though the path I walk may be lonely sometimes, I carry you and your mom with me in my heart, always.

With all the love that would have filled a lifetime.

Dad.

______________________________________________________________

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[kas-e]

The greatest canvas is the one just outside. The world is mad, frustrated, fighting, at war, but I essentially bowed out of the mainstream years ago. Since then I've been living in a little city in a strange region tucked in the valley beside a beautiful mountain range. It's been years now, and my life in America has all but faded from the rearview, all that remains is this tiny dot on the horizon that if I squint hard enough I might be able to make out what it is - but honestly, I don't care enough to strain my eyes.

The so-called friends and family gave up communications around a year ago. It's always been a flimsy connection anyway, so at least I saw that coming. At least my mother still responds sometimes. I'm not looking for pity, it's just the way it is. Reality.

When I was 19 years old I was involved in a horrible tragedy, at which time every person in my life turned their backs on me. Every last one. For a year I heard from nobody, I was hung up on, ignored, and just flat out told to fuck off. I was trying to get myself clean, and there were some months where I was institutionalized. The white walls still haunt me sometimes... but I remember trying to wrap my head around what was going on. The memory is vivid and piercing. Like it was yesterday, despite the fact that it was 25 years ago. It was the greatest lesson of my life.

It was when I realized that I was indeed alone in this life. Every man, and I would imagine plenty of women, come to this conclusion at some point in their life. Some of us are lucky enough to have family, friends, even love. But ultimately, we are alone. When tragedy strikes, this is revealed. The fair-weather friends disappear, and sometimes the family does too. But this doesn't make me sad anymore. It's just a black and white fact of life. Instead it gives me a sense of peace, because with the acceptance of this, I've grown and nurtured a love for myself that is now substantial enough to weather many heavy storms. Furthermore, now, when I do have love, or simply people in my life, I am very grateful for their presence, and it's easier to love and appreciate them back. Now, it's effortlessly reciprocal, whereas before sometimes it was one-sided.

My point of writing all of this is just to remind you, again, that the greatest canvas is just outside. The visions that nature gives us, for free, every day, are mere steps away. This is why I'm a photographer. This is why I shoot incessantly, and have for the past two decades. I'm trying to grab those fleeting moments of beauty and glory, one by one, and present them to whoever wants to see them.

I hope that you enjoy my work as much as I love creating it. Someone once told me that the sun sets and rises every single day, it's our choice if we want to be there for it. Ever since hearing that, I make it a point to be there every chance I have.

Next trip is southern Italy in a few weeks. Can't wait to get out there, and get some good sessions in before the cold grey winter of Eastern Europe sets in for the season.

Peace & Prosperity.

[alexanderwales]

There was one week in July of 2021 when my brain was actually working, when I was just happy to be alive and able to effortlessly focus on the things that were important. It was like my brain was a car that had been making a weird noise for years, and then I went over a pothole and somehow it fixed itself.

And I kept thinking to myself "is this going to last?" and also "life would be so easy if my brain were always like this, this is just how some people are". I wouldn't say that I'm depressed as my default state, but that week made me think that maybe there's some level of background depression that's just always there, something I've acclimated to. And for that week, it was gone.

But it only lasted a week, and then I was back to my old self. The depression and anxiety come in waves, and sometimes I can control them, but other times the triggers start piling up and it's just this downward spiral as the chemicals slosh around up there. I've trained myself to go into robot mode, to just get things done mechanically if there's no working human inside me, which is about what it's like for me on Lexapro.

I think about that week a lot.

It's bad this time, maybe as bad a depressive episode as I've had in a decade. When I was young, I used to imagine gnomes inside my head who were responsible for a bunch of levers that controlled emotions and would go into the backrooms to retrieve memories, and it took me a long time to understand that the gnomes were, in many cases, utterly incompetent, pushing down the wrong levers at the wrong moment, making me feel anxious about routine emails and causing these cascades of bad feelings over what should have been minor bumps.

I want to not be like this. I want to be the person I was when the stars aligned on that one week three years ago. That person exists, I was him, it didn't feel like losing a part of me, or like I was fundamentally altered. It felt like I had cast off my training weights and was moving around the arena at supersonic speeds. It felt like I had become the person I was always meant to be.

When I think about how unfair it is, I get more depressed. When I think about how unfounded the sadness is, I get more depressed. When I think about the things I'm not getting done because I'm depressed, I get more depressed. When I think about how other people have it worse, I get more depressed. It's like the brain gnomes have a single button that they use for everything, and that button is "I dunno, make him more sad, maybe that will help".

It'll pass. I know it'll pass, because it's passed before.

Sucks tho.

[misscammiedawn]

You may have discussed it before, but would you mind speaking a little bit on how you discovered you have DID?

I feel like I have a pretty stable core identity but there have been times under intense stress where I’ve experienced sudden “switches” in my personality. During a particularly bad period for a little over a year there was a time where I distinctly felt like a different person and did things I wouldn’t normally do, and I remember the specific moment where I came back into my body and became “me” again. This doesn’t happen often, but it has happened more than once throughout my life. When I see people talk about plurality I feel a little confused because their identities often seem to have their own names and genders and ages and backstories, and it seems so cut-and-dry.

I know these are all things to discuss with my therapist but I love how you talk about your own experiences. How can you differentiate between DID and other kinds of dissociation?

Thank you for asking, anon! I'm glad you are going to talk to your therapist about it while also doing the reading and reaching out-- heaven knows our own journey within the US mental healthcare system was rocky at best. The latest chapter of Madison/Belladonna is heavily sourced from IRL circumstances both in receiving the diagnosis and the decades long journey in the mental healthcare system to get there.

But to answer more directly-- (as always we are answering from a psychopathology lens for care and treatment, we recognize the beauty of plurality and do not reduce ALL experiences to mental healthcare concerns, we are approaching our own situation and experiences this way as it is how we lived it)

Our journey was guided from the outside. Both therapists and our partner who was able to see these "mood swings" in us were able to gently guide us to water despite our fierce denial and rejection of our situation. What started as "we're fine" turned to "mood swings" turned to "BPD" turned to "---maybe we should read up on OSDD?" Turned to our current therapist telling us over a year ago that we had DID after months of testing and interviewing to determine.

I should also note I likely realized it MULTIPLE times in my history and buried it again and again. I legitimately think that people in my former life knew and either assumed I knew too or worse I had told them and forgot that I told them. It worries me because I cannot ever be certain. I once asked my ex-wife about it after the divorce/diagnosis and she did say it was weird how she had a "different husband" depending on environment and social group. She said she never noticed it during the interactions, but she would always think back and feel that the "me" in any given moment was different from the ones she observed in social/work situations etc.

So like--- even if people notice, sometimes they don't even realize what they're seeing. Honestly I go full No Mask at work even when a male part fronts and no one really bats an eye. I don't think *most* people are as observant as we worry they are.

ANYWAY! Looking back these are the signs that I ignored:

- I not just wrote a consistent journal through every phase of my life (even going as far as to have a "memory list" that I populated "when I felt like it" (<- IE: when a part that associated with the memory was fronting and wanted to type about it) and more importantly I READ it. Often. I sometimes think that the majority of our memories are just imagined versions of what we wrote. That notion is helped by the fact we [used to] stop journaling during times of crisis or delete journal/chat log to prevent us thinking about distressing things.

- I wrote a lot of plural characters in my stories since my teenage years. Kinda like I kept writing female versions of myself? Funny how the Trans and DID acceptance arcs are so dang similar.

- I would emotionally cave in on myself after gatherings, berating myself for how I had acted all evening. Getting deeply upset at how "out of control" I was. We outright AVOID mood altering substances like alcohol or weed.

- When talking about traumatic memories we typically just tell the story rote. It doesn't bother us. We told therapists without batting an eyelid. This is dissociation. We were disconnecting ourselves from our memories. Emotionally distancing ourselves from the experiences.

- In the same vein, when we remember things we imagine things in locations like a 3rd person camera. Not populated. We don't hear or feel or associate. It's just a place and a knowledge. Our whole "context packet" thing where we just understand something without *feeling* it.

- Deleted emails and chatlogs, references to things we don't remember. Discord messages with people we don't remember talking to. It bothers me how many people in our online communities we were actually close to at some stage of our life and then erased. This is specific to us but Dawn has opened many accounts in the hypnokink community and Camden has shut them down and this has happened so many times that we don't even get upset when we find a buried email from 2013 with sign-up to a Yahoo Email account we don't remember having. That sounds dramatic. It's more just. Go into your emails, pull stuff up from 5-10 years ago and just scroll a while. See how much you remember and associate into. It's NORMAL to forget what websites you were browsing a decade ago. It's not normal to have an entire *LIFE* you hid from yourself.

- Sometimes people just... saw/knew us before we did and there were times when they would describe a version of us they weren't supposed to see and we got complete dysphoria over it. Sometimes it as joyful. Someone we love saw Cammie well enough to say when we transitioned that they wanted to see that "windswept girl with the big smile" all of the time. Sometimes it's mortifying, like when someone approaches Camden as if she is Dawn and Camden REJECTED that side of us so heavily that it caused emotional meltdowns and turmoil because Camden didn't WANT to be a sexy confident domme, she could barely see herself as a woman, when people saw the wrong version of us *without permission* it was just a violation that made things WORSE.

- On that note-- meltdowns-- we mentioned the whole "after a social gathering we'd emotionally cave in on ourselves" thing, there was a lot of that. After work we'd get a complete drop from having to be in Manager Mode all day or we'd have a crisis after erotic intimacy encounters because we're sex repulsed ace. The fact is our nervous system was activated during those times, our survival instincts were kicked in and brought the part associated to the surface to DEAL and when they backed off our body was still reacting to the trauma trigger and it would cause us to implode.

All of these things in therapy brought us to the conclusion of BPD. Because therapists be like that at times. A *TRAUMA* therapist gave us some DES-II, MID and ACE tests and worked out what was going on within 3 months.

It took a further 6-9 months with constant support from loved ones who were able to see us as individuals to *ACCEPT* it. This is a denial disorder, it doesn't want to be found. Asking questions, being honest and being accepting is the best way to come to terms with it. I wish it were easier and I wish you luck and support in your journey. Our inbox is always open!

You're not alone <3

[mlove44lh]

Don't hurt yourself

Chapter 7 - Forgiveness

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: angst, swearing, physical violence (hahaha)

Words: 4.313

“If we're gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked? The deep velvet of your mother and her mother and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken.”

“Y/n, please.”

I look into his eyes, and they seem to shine even from meters away. It's the calmest and most surrendered I've seen him in a long time.

I think about opening up, but I can't do it now. I need everything to go as planned tonight, even if I'm acting like a coward.

"Can you calm down and let things happen? We just had a great night after a long time, Lewis. Don't ruin this."

I don't know how I manage to finish the sentence. Lewis seems hesitant but nods slightly. I enter the bathroom before I have to hear his voice again.

The cold touch of the wooden door against my back makes me even more shivery, but I stay there, leaning for a few more seconds, still feeling him inside me.

That was my final attempt, the last approach I found that could potentially help me alleviate all of my agony and outrage.

I wanted to feel him inside me, to feel his love. I wanted him to prove to me that nothing had changed. I wanted to feel for him what I used to feel before being attacked by the person I thought was the love of my life.

Maybe if this doubt had dissipated, if I felt that nothing had changed and that I could really trust him again, then I would give up my decision and go back to him without thinking twice.

But that's not what happened.

I don't know who was with me in bed a few minutes ago, but it didn't seem like my husband.

We were stuck together, fused, sharing something as intimately as possible, yet I felt miles away from Lewis.

With every touch and every glance, the only thing that kept running through my mind was what he did to me, and what he did to her. The two of them together, just like we were a little while ago. And that made me understand that this feeling won't go away even if I wait for decades.

But at some point, I gave up trying to find something that would make me want to stay. At some point, I surrendered myself completely to him. For one last time. Without him knowing.

And honestly, I couldn't care less about how he felt about it.

I step under the running shower without waiting for the water to heat up. My warm body contrasts with the cold water, and I receive a shock that I needed.

The water runs through my body, taking away the last traces of him in me and the last traces of doubt in my mind.

Finally.

I decide to lie down next to him and postpone the feeling a little longer. I feel his body getting closer to mine, but fortunately, Lewis is satisfied with just the light contact of our arms together and doesn't go for a hug.

For some reason, I want to prolong this closeness. I want to engrave in my mind the sensation of his skin against mine, even though I am ready for a goodbye.

I stay there, motionless, waiting for any hint of regret within me for my final decision, but there is none.

I love Lewis like I never thought I would love anyone. I have lived extraordinary years by his side, and I have no regrets about anything.

Today it is finally clear that I did everything I could, and I know that I was the best wife I could be. But, even though I gave myself entirely and was the best partner, he did what he did. And, contrary to what I imagined, I am not at all to blame for it.

What Lewis did is about him and not about me. I could have done everything differently, but it would not have changed the outcome. I could not have prevented him from making such a decision.

I no longer feel guilty or inadequate. Only a great pain remains, but this time it's not accompanied by overwhelming doubts. Instead, there's relief and certainty that finally allow me to breathe.

Even if I did it behind him, I did what I had to do.

I feel exhausted, but I can't sleep for even a second. My stomach churns with anxiety over all the things going through my mind. It takes hours until I give up on trying to sleep and get up from the king-size bed.

I prepare my luggage before anything else. I know how heavy Lewis' sleep is, but even so, I do everything carefully and silently, without the slightest intention of waking him up at this moment.

I watch him sleep as I pack only the essentials into the suitcase.

I remember the day we arrived at this apartment, with the excitement and joy of starting a new life together in such a special place. The house was perfect for us, with everything we needed to build a happy home. Every corner of the apartment was filled with our essence, and the memories of the happy moments we spent here were abundant.

However, everything changed over time. Since the day I lived through the worst experience of my life here and all the things that came after, the happiness I felt in this place dissipated. Now it's hard to be in this apartment without feeling deep anguish, a suffocating sensation that takes hold of my chest. The once-welcoming house has become an oppressive environment.

Leaving here was already in our plans, but I never imagined that one day I would leave without Lewis by my side.

Carefully, I take the paperwork out of my bag and sit at the dining table, staring at the papers in my hand. Since I first got my hands on them a few days ago, I have already read every word in the document at least 200 times.

The house is completely silent. Sunlight is streaming through the large living room window, and though I know I don't have much time, I also know I can't rush what I need to do.

“Divorce Agreement”

Every time I read these words, the pain increases even more.

“Marriage is forever.” I've heard and kept these words inside me my whole life. I even spoke these words to Lewis hours before we got married.

It's a sacred contract, a serious promise that must be fulfilled by both parties until death do us part.

And we promised, we made vows, we swore before God and the state. We merged into one for eternity. And we did it with enough sobriety and happiness to believe it would be eternal.

I could never, not even for a second, imagine that all of this would end up on a white paper stained by tears and pen ink.

Despite having thought deeply and considered every aspect of my life and marriage in the last few days, even though I'm finally decided, it still hurts to the point of being almost unbearable.

I didn't want this, I didn't choose this, yet I feel like the worst part has fallen on my shoulders, not on the one who made mistakes.

I could have accepted anything except for dishonesty. That was the only thing I asked for, I didn't need anything else if I could trust my husband, but Lewis took that away from me.

And I can't spend the rest of my life with someone I don't trust anymore.

I hold the blue pen so tightly that my hand shakes.

I think of Lewis, who is peacefully asleep and doesn't expect what he'll find when he wakes up.

I should wait for him. We should talk about this like adults. I know I'm being cowardly and shouldn't act this way, but it was the only way I found to do this without getting even more hurt.

I don't know if he will sign it too, and I don't know if he will keep insisting on something that is already over, but all I want right now is to finish this as soon as possible. All I can do is do my part and hope that everything is quick and as painless as possible.

I analyze the entire document and check every detail of the agreement.

Our prenuptial agreement theoretically facilitates the division of everything and thus makes the dissolution of the marriage easier. Because of this, I feel more hopeful about this process going faster, since things become clear once we have an agreement on this since the day we got married. But I know it won't be as simple as signing a document. There is a lot at stake, especially for Lewis. This will go through every lawyer in town, there may be hearings, it could take an eternity, and just thinking about it already exhausts me.

My handwriting comes out a little different as I sign each paper of the document. Tears fall without ceremony, I don't even notice them at first. My broken heart can physically ache. I am bombarded by so many emotions that I couldn't even name them all. There is sadness, fear, pain, and anger, but there is also relief and hope. All of these things in equal measure, it's like I could explode with all the things passing through me.

But when I finish signing, it's like everything goes back to complete silence within me.

It all came to an end as I never imagined it would one day. And in the end, it's not him who receives forgiveness, it's myself.

Lewis is sleeping peacefully on his stomach, with no signs of waking up anytime soon. I sit down next to him, the lighting is low, but I can see every detail of his exposed skin. I place my hand on the middle of his back, touching the tips of my fingers carefully before placing my palm. Lewis sighs but remains unconscious.

I can't tell if I'm still crying, but the lump in my throat returns as soon as I feel him under my hand. His back rises and falls with each breath, and I spend some time analyzing every detail as if all of this wasn't already etched in my memory.

When I finally decide to leave, I place the papers on my side of the bed and leave the room, only taking my eyes off Lewis when the door closes.

I finally leave the apartment. I finally made the decision I needed to make.

-

The sunny weather in Milan makes me feel slightly better. The car drives through the quiet streets. Yet despite the calmness, I still feel my heart beating faster than usual.

“Do you know what you're going to do now?” Alessia breaks the silence in the car. Since I told her what I did, she hasn't said many words to me besides providing comfort. I don't think there's anything to be said at this moment that would make me think more than I already have in the past few days. I'm just happy with her presence.

“I'm going to spend the day with my best friend now. When I come back, maybe I'll rent a place to stay until everything is resolved. It's not like I want to go back to that apartment anyway.”

"Do you think he signed?”

I shrug.

“I hope so.” I look back outside the car. “Probably. Lewis knows that just me deciding to file for divorce means there's no turning back. I pushed myself to my limit for a reconciliation. Now it really has come to an end."

“And how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I don't think it has fully sunk in yet. I have some things to sort out before putting an end to all of this. Besides, I have to prepare myself. It may take months for everything to be resolved.”

Alessia doesn't take her gaze off me while I alternate mine between her and the streets of Milan.

We remain silent long enough to give me the impression that the conversation has ended.

“You're not going to leave Monaco, are you?” Her voice is low and she even seems a little embarrassed to ask me that.

“I haven't thought about it yet. But I don't think I can stay in Monaco. That place is microscopic, I'd see him everywhere.

"But it has become your home, our home. We dreamed of this, remember?”

I smile at her, remembering every step of when we did the craziest thing in our lives, giving up everything to live our dream in Monte Carlo. It would be really hard to disappoint my former self and leave this city behind. But I'm afraid it might be the only way to deal with all of this.

We don't take long to reach our final destination.

A large white hall without any sign on its facade is what awaits us. The glass doors show a few people walking inside. It's a simple place, an independent exhibition. Sometimes Alessia takes the hobby of finding new artists before anyone else very seriously.

She goes ahead while I stay in her shadow. I don't usually accompany her on her business trips, but any distraction is welcome right now.

“Oh. I didn't think I would find these people here. I mean, the boy is good, but God, this is surprising. Henry warned me to keep an eye on this guy.” She says as she walks around the small exhibition.

“What do you mean?!"

“Do you see that woman over there?” Alessia discreetly points to a lady at the end of the hallway. “Margaret Williams, one of the biggest art investors in the world. And let's just say she's far from being the most influential person here. For a 24-year-old boy in his second exhibition, I must say I'm impressed.”

“Well, you're here. That already means something too. You have the biggest gallery in Monaco. I'm sure this boy would kill to be there.”

“Taking into consideration the size of Monaco, that's not something so surprising.”

Alessia laughs at her own comment. I lightly tap her shoulder.

"I'll take a look around and see if I find the prodigy boy. Will you wait for me?" I nod in agreement. "I promise to finish quickly so we can enjoy Milan."

“It's okay. Take your time.”

After all, it was me who got myself involved in Alessia's work out of fear of staying at home.

I watch her walk for a few seconds before turning around and finding something to distract myself.

I would like to appreciate a work of art as I should, but I have no imagination or patience to see what everyone seems to admire. I leave this activity to Alessia.

I walk through the bright hall with no intention of lingering on anything. I stop to analyze some works, but it doesn't last long.

"Y/n. What a nice surprise!"

Hearing his voice makes my stomach turn before I even turn to him.

Matteo has a smile on his face as he looks me up and down.

Hell no. What are the chances?!

I look around him, searching for the girl, but I don't find her nearby and assume that Matteo is alone.

Too soon.

“Matteo. How are you?” I try not to let my reaction show on my face.

“I'm doing good. Yeah.”

“What brings you here?”

He puts one hand in his trouser pocket, his protruding belly making the task seem a little more difficult than it is.

"I have a house a few blocks away. We're spending a few days here. I decided to come to the exhibition. You know I like art, and this boy seems to be pretty good."

So she's here?! The possibility of running into Jordyn is enough to make me want to run away from here.

“Oh. I see” I swallow hard and look around for anything to get me out of this conversation.

“What about you? Is Lewis around here? I bet you guys are enjoying these last days of the break, hum.”

The tone in her voice disgusts me.

“Oh no, I came with a friend, but I'll be heading back to Monaco soon.”

Matteo finally seems to realize that there isn't much more to get from this conversation. We know each other, but we never exchanged many words. Everything always boiled down to Lewis. And that's not a subject that interests me at the moment.

He nods before starting to move. Matteo comes closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“If Lewis focuses a little more on what he actually needs, maybe he'll do better this year."

He says before moving away. I don't force a smile at the man. I look at him uncertainly. I don't know if Matteo knows what happened or if he said that because he's afraid of what another bad year will do to his investments.

I follow the opposite direction of Matteo. I search for Alessia with my eyes but give up calling her when I notice that she is engaged in a conversation. I climb a staircase placed at the back of the hall and come across a small terrace. I'm happy with the discovery. I can hide for some time at least.

Only a guy is standing there, the cigarette burning between his fingers.

I stand next to him and try to avoid going to him and asking for one. But I look at the Camel and feel the urge for its nicotine.

“Scusa. Puoi darmi una sigaretta?”

The guy stares at me before smiling.

He takes the pack out of his pocket and hands me one of the cigarettes, then helps me light it with his lighter.

“Grazie.”

I take a drag from the cigarette before moving away from the boy. I sit on one of the benches before reaching for my phone.

I expected to have many messages from Lewis waiting for me. But I only find one.

“Is that really what you want?”

I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't want to see him insisting, but anyway, this single message hurts me a little

I stare at the message for some time. I scroll up our conversation screen several times, trying to find the past, trying to remember how things used to be when everything seemed easier and more beautiful.

I read some 'I love yous' and all the 'what time will you be back?' messages I sent. I go through photos from trips, baby clothes, and all the conversations we had in the early hours of the morning when we were far from each other.

How did we get here? When was the exact moment of rupture? The loss of our child? His infidelity? When do we stop caring?

They told me I should wait for the moment when my marriage would "cool off", they told me it was normal. But this is not normal. Indifference cannot exist, and it cannot be treated as something usual.

Maybe the mistakes started long before all the turbulence we went through. Maybe the mistakes started when we stopped caring. But we ignored it and got here, To the end.

I type the messages calmly as the smoke from the cigarette invades my lungs.

"I think I made that clear."

"Just talk to your lawyer."

The door slams shut, and the boy is no longer there. But another person enters the space. The last person I would like to see at the moment.

She backs up a bit when she notices me but doesn't go back, she walks a few steps closer to me.

I remain seated, still smoking as I look at her.

The daylight allows me to see the person in front of me better. I thought I would feel bad when I saw her again, but I don't feel anything.

I stand up and walk past her to the ashtray. I leave the remaining cigarette there and walk towards the door. But her voice stops me from going any further.

“You left him, didn't you?!” I turn to face her. Jordyn looks at me. “At least that would be the right thing to do.”

“Oh yeah?! And why is that?”

I step closer to her, my heels making me taller than the woman.

"He likes me, Y/n. It wouldn't make sense to continue with him after what we had.”

She seems to be serious. I don't know the girl, but I can feel that there is indeed some feeling coming from her. And that makes me laugh.

"It wasn't you who destroyed my marriage. He did to you what he would have done to anyone else. But that doesn't make me hate you any less or think of you as anything more than a cheap slut."

She seems shaken after hearing what I said.

I notice her biting her cheek before speaking again.

“It was much more than weeks, Y/n. How do you think the bracelet ended up there? I knew he wouldn't have the courage to leave you.” Jordyn takes a few steps back before continuing. “Not after what happened.”

Her comment makes me even more alert.

“He told me everything. That you can't keep his baby no matter what. That’s fucked up girl.”

My heart breaks even more with her words. I can't imagine how Lewis would be capable of doing something like that. I hope and try to believe that it's all just a lie. That she found this out in some other way that wasn't from him.

"Shut the fuck up, You don't know anything.” I whisper.

"The resentment was so huge that I really didn't understand how he went back to you every night. I gave him what he needed and in return, I received promises. Believe what you want, Y/n.”

My chest burns with anger. I turn around and try to walk away before I do something I'll regret, but she keeps talking.

"At least you stayed quiet as you should. Good thing you understand what I could do to you." She laughs. "He did tell me that you were a domesticated slut."

I only realize what I did when I feel the burning in my palm. The woman's turned face is covered by loose strands of hair. A moment of silence fills the space.

The small red dots begin to appear on her face. In just a few seconds, it's already clear that the slap will leave a mark. Her teary eye shows shock. I'm also shocked by what I did, but I can't deny that the sensation was fucking awesome.

"Go ahead. I can't wait to see what you're going to do with that."

I leave the outside area afraid of what I might continue to do if I stay here.

Jesus, I just hit a fucking child.

I quickly walk over to Matteo. My breathing is fast and I'm so nervous that I feel my whole body shaking.

When I get close enough, I hit his chest with my hand. The impact is not strong, but my hand burns even more. He looks at me scared.

“You can be many things, but naive is not one of them. You know what's going on, don't you?! You know you have a gold-digging whore as a fiancée.”

I try to contain my voice, but I'm not sure if I succeed.

He puts his hand around my wrist and holds it gently.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your little fiancée is sleeping with my husband.”

Matteo's eyes shift from mine towards the door behind me. I can hear her footsteps, but I don't move to look at her.

I keep my eyes fixed on Matteo's, who soon turns his gaze back to mine.

"What have you done, Y/n?"

"Less than she deserves, for sure." I take my hand away from his grasp. "Do whatever you want, I don't give a shit anymore.”

I move away from Matteo and leave the hall.

My only concern is if anyone besides the three of us noticed anything.

There are no more choked tears or imminent sadness, I feel like laughing just remembering the sound of my hand slapping her face.

It's like I've acquired a thick shell. I don't think I can be shocked anymore by the things I discover, nor do I think I can be hurt more by Lewis.

Maybe I'm becoming more immune to a broken heart. Or maybe I'm just fed up with suffering for someone like him.

At least I found out, the real Lewis did this to me.

Author’s note: Let me know if you liked the slap hahaha. I thought a lot about whether I should include it or not.

The next chapter will be the last one😢. I'm happy to be finishing this story, even though I've loved every comment from you guys. But I'll save the love declarations for the next chapter haha. I hope to be able to post it real soon. Thanks for the love and I hope you enjoyed it.

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[quincywillows]

a scattered and overall supportive review of percy jackson season 1

let me just say first of all, it's extremely fun to be enthused about a tv show like this again. the adaptation isn't perfect, but it's a lot of fun, and you can tell there's plenty of heart and good intention behind what they're doing. i'm very much enjoying tuning in every couple of episodes and catching up -- and avoiding the relentless commentary of the internet while i do so lol.

but now it's time for MY commentary!! to preface, i was a huge fan of the books when i was younger, am a stalwart long-term advocate of the original five books as some of the best children's lit of our lifetime, but i also enjoyed the films a decade ago for what they were and think people (including cough rick cough) are way too harsh about them. justice for logan lerman. anyway

i'm not going to do like a play-by-play, but in summary, here are my takeaways from the first season -- what i thought worked, what did not, and things i'm optimistic about going into the future seasons.

the good

for an adaptation of the original series (which, to be fair, i have not reread in years), i felt this was honest and faithful. there were tweaks, obviously, but none that took me too out of it or felt irredeemable. there was a lot to like about this show, so i want to start right from the top with my highest highs.

the worldbuilding / production design. i absolutely loved getting to see how they imagined certain iconic characters, locations, and sequences from the books. it was so exciting to get to see camp halfblood for the first time on screen (at least, in this adaption) -- that moment in episode two definitely felt like a turning point where we picked up from the somewhat laggy pilot episode. i especially loved the design of mount olympus, aspects of the underworld (hades and his upside down castle were baller, though how did percy and grover get up there lol; and i absolutely loved the choice for asphodel and the ghosts being rooted like trees, i never would've thought of that myself but it was so chilling and unique... just wish i could see it better through the terrible lighting, but we'll come back to that), and of course, camp. even down to the small details, like the camp beads... it's just very cool to see it come to life.

the casting. i wasn't sure about some of the casting when the news was breaking, but i'm very happy to have been pleasantly surprised all around (and have majorly avoided people bitching about every single thing). there wasn't any role where i felt like someone was horribly miscast, and you could tell that everyone involved really wanted to be there and committed. i thought the casting of the gods was especially inspired at times. some of the highlights for me personally:

adam copeland as ares. i had no idea he was apparently a wrestler turned actor until my sister told me, but i thought he was absolutely spectacular. very charismatic, with just the right amount of cringefail that ares needed. i found him thoroughly enjoyable in all his scenes.

lance reddick as zeus. having just played horizon zero dawn recently, oh my lorde was this an inspired choice. he was absolutely brilliant. i'm so so sad about his passing, i don't know how they're going to recapture his performance, but i have faith now that they'll find a way.

timothy omundson as hephaestus. i love that they took a softer, more mad scientist approach to his role than like ugly basement blacksmith vibes... i just thought it was really refreshing. his scene with annabeth, where we got so much humanity from him in such a short span of time, was one of my favorite scenes of the season.

jason mantzoukas as dionysus. i mean. what else can be said. obvious choice, but he was so fun lol. i hope they give him more to do next season.

other standouts beyond the main youth cast for me were jay duplass as hades (his brief appearance in 107 was thoroughly enjoyable) and dior goodjohn as clarisse (she was by far the acting standout of the first couple episodes to me). also very happy to see jessica kennedy parker and sinclair from the 100 get work, lol.

walker as percy jackson. it was really wonderful watching walker grow as an actor even just through the first eight episodes. the difference from 101 to 108 is almost night and day. you can tell how much he cares about the project and percy as a character, and he upped his game with every episode. i cannot wait to see what he turns out in the coming seasons. to be fair, i thought all of the youth cast did a decent job, and i'm giving them a lot of leeway and room to grow since they are literally child actors -- it takes time to hone your craft, and im optimistic they're all going to do a great job as the series goes on. but walker was, definitively and thankfully as the protagonist, the standout.

charlie bushnell as luke. i was so excited when i heard he got cast because i loved him in diary of a future president, and he did not disappoint. i kind of wish he had more to do, but all of that was forgiven in the finale when he had his final confrontation with percy. oh, the acting popped off then -- i can't wait for him to get to chew up the scenery more in the coming seasons.

grover and percy's friendship. it was so sweet to see this come alive, and i thought walker and aryan had excellent natural chemistry together. they were so endearing, and i really believed their friendship basically from the start (them swapping their sandwich fillings is a tiny detail from the pilot that has stuck with me since; i just loved that choice so much). they definitely provided a lot of my favorite moments in the season, and i think evoked the most genuine "aw wow" moments from me.

percy's relationship with sally. since sally was, understandably, absent from the original novel, it was awesome to get the flashbacks here that allowed us to more deeply understand their bond. i thought walker and virginia did a great job with this, and the young actor who played little percy also did a surprisingly great job (he was actually one of the stronger youth actors in the pilot imo lol). you totally understood why percy was doing everything he was, because that mother-son bond felt believable. big shout-out to the absolutely baller line "i am sally jackson's son." one of the first writing moments where i was like oh snap!

the music. a good score really can't be understated, and this one did not disappoint. did just what it needed to do. i also loved the closing title sequence and the art direction there with the epic music -- just such a nice touch that i'm so glad they included.

some of the writing. i'll get more into some of my qualms with the writing below, but there were definitely some great moments that deserve their flowers. i thought they did a great job weaving in some early themes without being heavy-handed about it (percy having to define who he is for himself, mostly). there were some genuinely funny moments that made me laugh out loud, including "i am impertinent," annabeth's "i'm multitalented," and the entire exchange on the road side when the trio to ares are like no... we're fine... ahaha bye... oh and percy trying to drive the taxi out of the garage at the casino was absolutely hysterical.

pivotal scenes hitting their mark. when the show needed to deliver, i thought they really delivered. i absolutely loved the staging and acting in the final luke and percy confrontation -- the lighting of the fireworks was such a cinematic touch. percy's arrival at olympus and scene with zeus was also a big standout. i loved a lot of the st. louis arch episode, and thought the hephaestus golden chair sequence was really well done. overall, the episodes i thought were strongest were without a doubt 104, 105, and 108.

expansion where expansion was welcome. one of my favorite aspects of the series is how it's giving more nuance to the monsters and "villains" of the books. i loved that we got a little more motivation for alecto beyond evil -- that she clearly wanted to accomplish her own mission and retrieve the helm, whether out of loyalty or fear. i loved how medusa got much more depth and humanity, that we're sort of reexamining the fairness of how myths are told rather than just taking it all at face value. i'm really looking forward to seeing how that continues in the next seasons.

the decent

percy and annabeth. to be fair, i think my issue with this is more on the fan reaction than the show itself. i think the show is doing a decent, if somewhat awkwardly paced job, of building their friendship and offering small little hints of what could blossom in the future in classic youth awkward ways -- unexpected hugs, banter, etc. i think walker and leah are both doing a good job, and i look forward to seeing how it develops. but my god, people on the internet are really jumping the shark so hard here. i can't handle seeing more "uwu percy is in love" posts when it's like. y'all. THEY ARE 12. THEY JUST MET. LET THEM ORGANICALLY BECOME FRIENDS FIRST... i just hope the creators don't feed into that and also jump the shark. like yes, we all know where this is going, but can't we enjoy the actual journey to get there instead of forcing what isn't there yet? in any case, on the positive side, some of the moments between them i really enjoyed: the conversation on the train when grover was asleep, the hephaestus chair sequence, annabeth giving him her camp beads before going to olympus (that was a slay... that was a legendary slow burn start moment worth hyping up), the way percy smiled at her in their last scene... that's the good stuff. let's not rush through what we're getting folks. the water is fine.

lin manuel as hermes. here is the thing. i thought lin did a good job. i thought his casting was apt, and fun, and he did a great balance of hermes charisma and like, a darker edge. it's just... the thing about lin manuel is that he's lin manuel. and this is coming from someone who likes him, but it's like he shows up on screen and i'm just like. hey it's lin manuel. it's a bit of a "takes you out of the moment" stunt casting, but i'm not mad about it. i wouldn't call it a bad thing. hopefully it'll wear off (though i doubt it). i guess i'm just deciding that hermes is just lin manuel, which honestly, would kind of track.

the youth acting. mentioned this above, but again, some of that early delivery was rough. but i am giving a lot of grace, and i think they've already improved plenty in the first eight episodes. i felt the same way about shadowhunters back in the day when i thought kat mcnmara was hard to watch in season 1, but by season 3 she was my absolute favorite cast member and came so far. i have no doubt these kiddos will do the same. so very much looking forward to that.

the not so great

the pacing. this was definitely the weakest part of the story writing wise. it wasn't irredeemable, but it did hinder the first half of the show (which didn't lock in for me until about 104, when the stakes truly shot up at st. louis). and that also affected how dynamics and plot points were able to unravel. the biggest victim of this...

the luke reveal. from the start, i was worried about this. since luke was only really in episode 2, i had doubts about whether the reveal of his betrayal would be at all satisfying or earned. i don't know that i can speak on it for sure, since i knew what was going to happen as someone who read the books, but i still feel we should have gotten more of those luke-and-percy-bonding scenes and convos earlier in the series rather than tacked onto the finale as flashbacks. it worked there, but i think it could've been better. thankfully, all of that didn't hinder the delivery of the finale confrontation, which as i said, was a standout moment for me.

the fight scenes. with rare exception, i was pretty underwhelmed with many of the monster battles and confrontations this season. given that's such a huge gimmick of the novels, i hope they're able to revisit and polish up the pacing of these in the future... i just felt that scenes like the museum clash with dodds were so rushed and anticlimactic. or not even confrontations at all, like the scene with crusty. we got a bit more of this at the back half of the season, in the sword fights with ares and luke, but i wanted more of that epic feeling throughout. i'm hoping it's maybe just a budget concern and that it'll improve in the coming seasons -- especially as the bosses get bigger and the stakes get higher -- but i'm not sure i'm optimistic just yet.

some of the dialogue. it was... wooden, to say the least. i think the worst moments of this were when they were trying to force Kid Bants -- which just felt stilted in the earlier episodes -- and whenever they were explaining greek myths point blank to the audience. there were moments it worked, but many where it didn't, and i hope they flesh out how to better info dump in the future episodes. i didn't mind the change of having percy be more familiar with the myths and thus more aware, but they could afford to finesse how they relay that information to us in the audience without basically reading from wikipedia in percy's voice.

the ugly

oh my god i can't see. i can't SEE. this show went to the teen wolf academy of employing one lightbulb and it's actually criminal. there were so many scenes where i really wanted to see what was happening because the stakes were high or the scenery was so pivotal -- the entry into the underworld for the first time, the vastness of medusa's basement of stone, THE FIELDS OF ASPHODEL -- but the lighting was so god awful i legitimately couldn't see a thing. in asphodel i literally could barely see the trio's expressions, it was that bad / flat. the audience is smart, we understand it's dark out. we can suspend our disbelief so you can add some visibility to this thing. i was turning up my brightness constantly but it wouldn't go any higher. please, disney execs, rick, anyone -- GET ANOTHER LIGHTBULB. i'm losing key immersive aspects of the show to this and it's a bummer. when they were walking through waterland for the first time and annabeth was like "wow can you believe this craftsmanship" i was like i don't know, girl, I CAN'T SEE ANY OF IT. begging on my knees that they fix this next season.

well, that ended up longer than expected, but oh my gods it is so nice to be writing paragraphs about a tv show again. all in all, i'd say 7.5/10 from me in this first season. there's so much to be keen for here, and i'm really happy with how it's going so far.

friends and fellow demigods, what did we all think?

[dre6ming]

The delicate beginning rush- imagine

Unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her

Masterlist <chapters 1->14 here>

Some things are meant to be - chapter 13 (y/n) pov

The delicate beginning rush imagines masterlist

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Pairing: Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader

Warning: age gap (10 years), fluff

Plot: (y/n) was secretly asked to be part of the Elvis Soundtrack and perform live at the Cannes premiere, this is Austin’s reaction to it.

Word count: 1900

Austin's point of view

The clapping started a while ago and it doesn't seem to stop. I have tears in my eyes, salt streams running down my cheeks as I look up, thanking my mom's spirit, Elvis's and God. In my whole two decades long career I've never felt this type of happiness and relief. The room is just filled with this beautiful energy, there's happiness flowing in the air, but there's a heaviness to it all, as everyone seems to be holding back tears. I turn to my left and hug Olivia briefly, whispering a sincere "thank you" in her ear, moving further through the crowd, hugging everyone in sight. I'm overwhelmed with people's reaction and I'm joyful to accept every compliment and hug, but there's this gaping hole in my heart, like something is missing. I can't put my finger on what it is, but in the back of my mind there's this voice telling me exactly what I'm longing for.

She couldn't be here, how could she? She's not my girlfriend publicly, she's not involved with the movie, as far the public knew, she's had no excuse to come to the premiere, even though I wanted it so bad.

As soon as my mind circles back to her, I can't help but wish this would all be over so I could go back to my hotel room and call her, hear her voice, tell how proud I am of her singing, how hearing her voice brought me to tears. I just know (y/n) and Baz must of worked really hard to keep this a secret, not only from the media, but from me as well. I smile to myself thinking about all those times I asked her about the secret project she was working on and she would simply smile, saying I'll know soon enough.

I reach my hand into my jacket, looking for my phone to see if she answered my text, more like hoping she did, but before I can, a hand touches my shoulder. "Austin, everyone back in their seats, there's one last surprise." Baz announces, directing me back to my seat next to him. The room goes completely silent and all the lights go out, leaving us in pitch black. There's some ruffling noise, then a deep breath echoes through the theater. Soft piano starts playing and a single light shines on the floor, bringing into focus a white piano, a replica of the one Elvis had in Graceland. The breath gets caught in the back of my throat as my eyes make out who's playing.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in...But I can't help falling in love with you"

(Y/n)'s enchanting voice fills the room, making my heart throb. She looks beautiful, in a dark blue gown, with silver stars on it. Her soft hair is pulled back and she has glitter all over her face, which sparkles with every movement of her head. She has her eyes closed, singing softly, her delicate fingers brushing the piano keys.

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes. Some things are...meant to be"

I can't take my eyes off of her and my feet carry me out of my chair unconsciously. New tears form in my eyes and I try to blink them away, but all that effort goes out the window when she turns her head to the audience. She opens up her beautiful eyes, searching the audience, spotting me immediately, since I'm the only one standing. (Y/n)'s eyes glimmer in the light, tears glossing them. She smiles at me, a single tear sliding down her round rosy cheek and onto the piano keys.

"Take my hand, take my whole life too. For I can't help falling in love with you"

She keeps singing, looking into my eyes, smiling bright and blinking through the tears. I'm wiping away my own tears, feeling the thud of my heart against my chest. All I see is her, all I hear is her, all I want is her. It's so strange to try and explain, to try and understand, this undeniable attraction I feel for her. I watch her and I'm intrigued by her presence, by her ability to wield such power. In the months since I've met her, she's consumed my every thought, I fall asleep dreaming about her eyes and I wake up imagining I hear her voice.

I hate playing pretend, the whole fake relationship thing is really starting to piss me off. I wish I could just run up to her, lift her up in my arms and spin her around, kiss her plush lips.

"For I can't help falling in love with you..."

As she finishes the song, I'm left with this feeling, the feeling that she was somehow singing to me and I realize how much I wish that were true. As people start clapping and standing, cheering her on, I understand the weight that's sitting on my heart. I've fallen in love with her. There's no denying, that I want her to be my everything, I feel it in all my bones. She's my one.

Baz shakes me awake, hugging me, asking me what I thought of the performance. I'm speechless, I smile and say some gibberish that doesn't make much sense. My feet burn in my shoes, I want to move so bad, to go be by her side.

Before I can stop myself, I'm moving, making a bee line for her, focusing only on her. I love the way her face lights up when we lock eyes, I love the blush that comes to her cheeks, I love the way her lips stretch over her teeth in the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. I come to a stop, standing a few inches away from her, looking at her, forcing my hands to stay unmoved at my sides. "I-" she opens her mouth to say, but she's interrupted by Baz, coming form behind me.

"(Y/n) oh my, I have goosebumps all over, that was so beautiful, congratulations." She looks down, fidgeting with her dress. "Thank you, Baz, it means a lot." (Y/n) says smiling, sniffing a bit. I open my mouth to give my congratulations to her as well, but I'm once more interrupted, this time by Priscilla, handing her a tissue so she could wipe away her tears. "Here you go, honey, a beautiful performance, Elvis would be happy to see his legacy carried this way." Priscilla says and I see on (y/n)'s face how proud she feels hearing this.

Before I know it a photographer comes at us. "Smile!" He says and I drag her by the waist, keeping her close to my side. My fingers absentmindedly dance over the soft fabric of her dress and I feel her tense under my touch, smirking to myself, loving that I have this effect on her. "Miss, one picture over at the piano please, Mr Butler, join her at the piano please." The photographer directs and she moves, holding the front of her dress up. I sit down next to her, helping her arrange the skirt of the dress as she whispers a soft "thank you".

I smile for the camera, but being this close to her, does things to me, I can't explain, so I find my hand fumbling around for the slit of her dress, finding it and placing the palm of my hand on her knee. I hear the way her breath gets caught in her chest and I play it cool, praying no one would dare look under the piano.

After a couple of photos, I'm unfortunately pulled away into conversation with someone and she gathers up her dress and leaves. I feel this energy pulling at my insides, like a string that ties me to her and putting distance between us, hurts. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her talking to Kaia and it's now that I wish I had supernatural hearing, because I know how she feels about the whole fake relationship thing, I know she understands, but I also know she hates it.

I have to focus my attention back to my conversation and reply, mentally sighing when the person loses interest and leaves. I turn around and see her walking up to me, her closeness making my heart race. "Austin..." my name sounds so good coming out of her mouth, if I could hear only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be her saying my name over and over again. I smile at her and she bites her lip, causing a groan to bubble in my throat, but I stop it before it's too late. "You're so beautiful, can I hug you?" I need to feel her warmth against my body, it's been too long since I had the chance to. Her eyes wonder around the room, probably looking for people watching our interaction. "Thank you, I- do you think we could?" It breaks my heart that the right answer it's probably no, but I'm so hungry for her touch, I can't think logically. "I think it's just a hug.." I shrug, knowing full well it's not just a hug. "Ok" she replies.

That's all I need, to scoop her up in my arms, squeezing her tight, lifting her feet off the ground and burying my face in the crook of her neck. (Y/n) tenses in my arms and I know she's overthinking this, I know she's scared someone might see, but I can't bring myself to care. "Too much Austin, people will see!" She warns, speaking into my ear, causing shivers to travel down my spine.

"Let them, I couldn't give a fuck!" It's like I'm drunk, my head is fuzzy and I can't think straight. My senses are drowned in her floral scent, her soft hair brushing against my cheek, driving me crazy, as I'm having a hard time not lacing my fingers through her hair. I squeeze her tighter, almost wishing she could melt into me and be forever close. "Aus, baby please, not now, not like this, you just had the longest standing ovation in the festival's history, don't ruin your moment." She tries to reason with me and I can't deny her. The proud tone in her voice making me want to cry again, her opinion matters so much to me.

Slowly I loosen my arms and place her back on the ground, physically hurting when I no longer have her flush to my chest. Sighing I drop my arms to my side, like a child trying to be good after doing something they shouldn't have. I bite my lip and look her up and down, taking in her beauty. "Are you coming to the after party?" Part of me wishes she wouldn't, because I don't know how I'll be able to control myself around her, when there's alcohol involved.

"No, I'm tired, I flew here from Canada, we wrapped filming yesterday." (Y/n) explains and I simply nod, feeling a bit thankful, but now wishing that I wasn't going either. "Where are you staying?" I ask, hoping it's the same hotel as mine, but she doesn't say, she just smirks wiggling her brows at me, making me chuckle. "Have fun at the party!" She pats my arm and turns around walking away before I can get another word out.

As I watch her walk away, I realize something, I realize that I don't ever want to live in a world where she's not mine and I'm not hers, because I'm unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.

Tags: @galaxygirl453 @rainydayz101 @samaraannhan20 @marlowmode @myradiaz @areuirish @micaelainthe60s @homebodybirkin2003 @pennyroyalcreep @purejasmine @strokesofstokes @lanasfloridakiloss @denised916 @kibumslatina @macey234 @melodixs-blog @shantellescrivener @chewiethecatus @guacala @fangirl125reader @father-of-2cats @lucid315 @melodixs-blog @ilovehobi101 @richardslady121 @jensmithin @julie181 @chrisevansgirl34 @ranaissingle @onecrazydirectioner @maria-1287 @austinbutlerssimp

[bosskie]

Bubble Bath

Yeah, continuing Molluck bathing theme... He is enjoying his time there. (Y)

Just needed to draw something to clear my mind but well, I have also wanted to draw something like this for a long time but nothing looked good enough... I struggled with this one too but it looks okay.

I'm still not feeling good and my mental health issues just make me feel sorry for posting content... I just recently had a desire to take my blog down, yet again... My mind makes me feel embarrassed of the quality of my works this badly... I only see all my mistakes I did in them... Well, at least I always find something to learn from. Oh, and I have fixed the retopology of my Molluck model's face, but there is still the rest of his head and torso to be fixed... It felt like doing an IQ puzzle but I'm glad that I could fix his face, and the rest is easier to fix.

I don't know how you feel when I post stuff, but I just cannot help it and feel sorry... I'm also sorry for feeling sorry because I wish that it wasn't like this... But I have just like never really liked my art... I just love to create but it's only about the process, the final product is another story. But I feel like I have improved a lot this year since this is like a first year for a long time when I really draw a lot and actually practice stuff. Last time I had such a year was like over a decade ago. It feels so odd, even impressive, to look at all my Molluck stuff from this year (so far), like how much I have actually done it... But I still feel like I have much to learn and my Mollucks need refining... But nothing is perfect and it's kinda the problem here...

But I'm still trying to go on and not to delete my blog just because of my mental health issues. I just don't know how to get rid of my self-hatred because I just hate myself for no real reason... My image of myself is just awful, despite of that it's only me and that I have been successful, been even rewarded for it multiple times... I still feel like I'm not enough and will never be... I'm so tired... I don't see the person the others see in me. I don't even understand what Molluck sees in me in my self-insert world, so I cannot even imagine that...

I'm sorry for my vent. It doesn't make me feel better but in a way that I don't feel so alone with this since I spend my days mainly all alone too, but this writing has also helped me to understand my condition better. Sometimes, I just feel sorry for even existing, but it's not as worse as it used to be years ago. I have felt sorry for even a bus driver for having to pick me up from a bus stop, me being the only person there... It took work to get rid of that but I still can feel sorry for people for even seeing me in the streets, so I often wear sunglasses even if it's not sunny, to kinda hide or just take my own space... I really don't know how to get better with this but I at least try to keep living since it's not unusual for me to think about ending it... I just cannot keep this all to myself anymore, but I don't wanna this all directly to anyone and I have no resources for proper/professional help... I also struggle with even feeling worth helping, so this is challenging... It feels like that the environment (outside my home) where I grew up left me shaped my mind quite much... I'm just so used to be different, an outsider, odd, unwanted... All just because I'm not like an average person in many ways... What a price for being different.

I'm grateful for your tolerance, that you ain't threwing any stones at me either, since well, I have experienced it too, but just little gravel stones thrown behind my back.

[tasty-littl-snack]

Trying to understand the logic of people saying they’re done with Watcher and Ryan and Shane but will turn around and watch Buzzfeed Unsolved which has *checks notes* Ryan and Shane.

Yeah tbh. I think I can kinda understand it, it's like you're listening to earlier albums of your fave music artist, because they changed the genre with their latest album and you don't vibe with their new songs or watch a tv show's earlier seasons because the later one's totally destroyed the characters you liked. (Happened to me, like some things seriously had only two seasons and I'm ignoring the five next ones and two movies or whatever.)

So in that aspect I can kinda get it. Bfu started 8 years ago, that's a whole almost decade, and sometimes you don't really think of the quality of the content (because I will once again die on the hill that waverly gf ep is much better than waverly bfu I'm still confused how a show this badly made took off in the yt algo back in the day), but what it made you feel like, or where you were in life when you first watched/got into it. There's a kind of nostalgia attached to it and I imagine all of those fans who are like "I hate ghost files but I loooove bfu it's my comfort show", don't really care that it's Ryan and Shane it's the familiarity of watching it over and over for years and it being more memeable and quotable because those lines got repeated and memed to death over the years.

For example I don't really find myself coming back to the earliest eps of bfu if I had to rewatch them. I much prefer Ryan's normal voice to his theory one, and that's because seasons 6 and 7 are when Watcher was a thing, and their interpersonal relationship changed to a more "I like it here, we are friends". In the earlier seasons they aren't that close, Shane is more closed off and assholeish towards Ryan, and well Ryan is younger and thus more kind of playing a cool dude. I feel like he got to be more himself as the years went on and I like that.

That's also the odd thing about being a fan of real people as there is an interesting dichotomy to it. Like on one hand I respect them for what they do their comedy/craft/ability to express their creativity. On the other there's the respect for them as individuals, acknowledging that at the end of the day they are like. Just some guys making stuff. And people grow and change. You're not the same person you were at 25 when you are 34, you are not the same person you were at 30 and 38, but since you got immortalized at 25 and 30 and continue to make content for years people expect you to be always like that. A character that doesn't change, or changes according to a logic of a story. But real life is so much stranger and more interesting than that! There's no logic to your actions, you make mistakes and grow from them. At the time of making a decision you have no idea if it's a good or bad one or how it will go, and if you think you do I don't think you had serious choices to make in your life yet. But I think people expect of them to be those characters who don't change or grow. I assume those people have no respect for Ryan and Shane as real human beings, because they have some imagined version of them how they are presented in those episodes they watched over and over. So to them it doesn't matter that bfu has Ryan and Shane, because those are seen as different characters, not the "evil greedy capitalists who made their own company", but your friends that you know the best because you can quote their lines as you watch them in the background. And additionally there's the nostalgia of watching your beloved show that makes you feel younger because life was simpler back then. You didn't have your worries of adult life because you were in college/high school, and bfu reminds them of that. The fact that it's not giving watcher any money is only better for the haters bc it's like pirating. You still enjoy your favorite part of your blorbos, and don't feed "the big evil watcher" so kinda best of both worlds.

Some people also can't admit that the content didn't change that much, they just lost interest/grew out of it (and it's fine, interests change that's normal), but that's not on them, that's surely on Ryan and Shane for changing and evolving in their craft.

Baffling to me tbh because if I was a fan of them I'd wish them well not for their downfall and contribute to lower views by giving it to a big corporation (which isn't watcher). But that's just me.

Sorry this got deep I just am so tired of people saying bfu is better. It's really not you just miss the person you were when you watched it for the first time. That's the case with every 'comfort' show. It's why it brings you comfort. Real people behind it don't really matter.

[unlucky-leek]

I'm still really struggling with the whole novel writing thing. I'm gonna ramble a bit so you can ignore this if you want lol

Basically I've realised that I keep settling on an idea, doing a bunch of research / planning, getting super into writing it for a while, and then lose all motivation as soon as I reach some sort of roadblock. For example I'll be like "OK cool, so how do we get from plot point A to plot point B...", but then the more I start trying to come up with solutions, the more I start overthinking everything, and then I end up in this spiral of "that doesn't make sense, the characters wouldn't do that, that's too cliché, that's just a dumb excuse for x, y, and z, no-one would read this or take this seriously, imagine the negative reviews, etc etc", which I *know* is dumb because I've been writing for *years* and ever since I was a literal child I've had people complimenting my story telling and writing style. Even my fanfics have had a lot of nice comments from people. And it gets worse than that - I occasionally find forgotten collections of my own writing from over a decade ago and I'm like "damn, this is actually really good, how did I do that?" And then I get miserable because I feel like younger me was writing much better than current me, and I don't know how to recapture that.

I think a major issue I have is that my characters tend to take on a life of their own, and then it becomes hard for me to make them do things I know they wouldn't do, which makes changing and adapting the story much harder once I've established them. On the flip side, if I don't do that, then I don't feel invested in them and can't be bothered writing their story, which also sucks.

Something that simultaneously keeps impressing me and annoying me is my writing from 2016-2017. As it turns out, I wrote a LOT that year. There's so much, and I love re-reading it because it feels like I'm reading someone else's work (maybe that's a dumb thing to say, idk). But the problem is it's all half finished or random short stories that will never fit in anywhere. It's so mystical and philosophical, full of dark themes, pondering existence, fairy tale like settings... But none of it is finished, and now I feel like I can't do it justice.

There's a story I started back then that I'm desperate to finish but it's so philosophical that I get sad every time I try to work on it, which sounds ridiculous, but it is what it is lol (it's based on the concept of Tulpas if you know what they are).

Then there's the story I've had going on in my head since 2008. I've written a few scenes for it here and there, but the damn thing spans over 3000 in universe years and almost 20 irl years, how the heck are you meant to condense that into a book?? I tried writing a new story set in the same universe, but it just didn't feel right. Ironically they're the characters I feel most comfortable writing about even though I can never publish anything about them (probably).

Then there's one I've been working on recently that was based on an old fanfic story of mine (the original plot, not the characters), but I keep getting paranoid that I can never publish it because the original fanfic from 2011 is still out there. Are original adaptations of fanfics you wrote a thing? Would people sneer at it?

Then I have a random other story I got pretty far with but realised I don't know enough about the themes or the community involved to write it respectfully, so I've temporarily given up on that for now too.

I've kind of ended up in a bit of a slump I guess. In no small part due to the fact that since 2017 I just haven't had as much time to write as I'd like, and if I do I overthink it all and don't actually write anything. Or I'll be spending time doing other things I enjoy and an annoying thought will be going "you could be using this time to write", and then I just feel annoyed at myself.

Maybe I should just start with a short story collection or something... At least I know I'm relatively good at those. Or maybe I'll push through the sadness it causes and just work on the Tulpa one at last.

Not sure why I'm writing this to be honest, I think I just needed to get it all down to clear my mind.

Thanks for reading if you got this far, I hope to have an actual story for you to read one day!

~03/10/2024

[acertainmoshke]

Writing Share Tag

Tagged by @words-after-midnight (find theirs here)

I'll tag @amielbjacobs @sam-glade @writernopal @authorlaurawinter @stesierra

@tabswrites and anyone else who wants to!

Rules: Share a snippet of writing, no matter how long

I just restarted Emerald Outpost with more worldbuilding, and I'm particularly proud of the new prologue:

When I try to remember what happened, it comes in broken flashes: a small dark room. A cold tile floor. The sound of metal on metal. Blinding, unbearable pain coursing through my body. Screams coming from very nearby. This is usually the point where I blink and find myself on the kitchen floor, unable to breathe. I don't remember starting to cry. Sometimes I'm kneeling on glass from whatever I was holding. Sometimes my wife is in front of me, holding me firmly here. Her voice is always calm, her fingers gentle, but her eyes are so sad they break me all over again. So no, I don't remember what really happened. Nasir doesn't, either. But this will never be over if we don't figure it out. It will never stop. Oplin and Oré both falling, billions dead or worse. The war used to matter, enemies used to matter, but now all I can see is people who don't know what's coming. Or not. It might never get that bad. But others would keep suffering. He would keep trying. The risk is too great. I feel sick. Minerva suggested I start slow and build up to it from the very beginning. Most of my life has come back now, but there are still gaps. It's hazier than it once was. Things that barely seemed to matter at the time make me want to curl up and die. But I'm going to do my best anyway. For the sake of everyone I've ever known. There is an argument to be made that everything began with my first day of work, more than two decades ago. If I hadn't taken the job, none of what followed would have happened. But that's a self-indulgent, procrastinating thought. It all really began three years later with the Emerald Outpost mission. It was supposed to be a punishment, but I can't imagine anyone in charge had any idea how true that would become. Or did they?

[postoctobrist]

Hi, Alice. I know this isn't really your usual sort of ask, but seeing you talk so lovingly to people just beginning to work out their gender feelings has made me feel sort of melancholy because I feel like I'm on the opposite side. I've been out for almost a decade, I'm coming up on seven years on T and I just kind of feel like I've lost the joy in being trans. I'm dealing with some health stuff, probably related to my hormone levels but as yet undetermined, which has basically eradicated my ability to have any sort of sex life (this is on top of other, much more long-term chronic illness). I might have to start taking estrogen as well which is terrifying the absolute shit out of me even though I know intellectually that taking a very low dose won't have any of the effects I'm afraid of.

I feel like a walking embodiment of the shit TERFs say about how taking hormones will ruin your life and fuck up your genitals. I'm utterly broken down by the relentless transphobia of this shitty fucking island. Sometimes I scare myself into thinking that I want to detransition, even though I know I wouldn't be happier as a woman, but god damn, when I think about that hot little 18 year old lipstick lesbian I was a decade ago it makes me want to cry. I don't know how to feel good about my body anymore. The days of feeling excited about playing with my gender expression feel like they happened a thousand years ago on Mars. The semblance of 'community' I had before COVID sort of disintegrated and I'm still mostly too riven with COVID anxiety to get it back. I'm very sorry for dropping this enormous shedload of feelings on you but I guess I just don't know how to take joy in being trans anymore.

I've been there - sometimes I am there. As a community, we're pretty good at getting people through the early years of transition, but after that you're supposed to just be good, which might be fine except that all the other parts of life keep going. Not only does transition not solve all your problems, but you keep getting new problems and they're all weird - my top left rib pops in and out of place a bit when I sit down now, it's great. We don't have a good set of ways for talking or thinking about aging, including for cis people. And on top of everything else, the world is getting harder and hotter and more bigoted and we survived a fucking pandemic. But: we survived a fucking pandemic. And we survived all the other things. We're tough, tougher than anyone gives us credit for, including us. Under the circumstances, we're doing pretty good. So that's the first thing: what you're feeling is normal.

Second part: is that feeling helpful or realistic? I don't think that it is. You can't know that you'll always be unhappy with your body, or that you'll never rebuild community. I don't believe that people can be ruined. Okay, you can't go back to being 18, and that's painful, but neither can cis people and they get upset about it too. And 18 year olds are really annoying, imagine being one.

All in all what I'm getting at is that stuff happens to us, like it does to everyone. We took an uncommon step to enforce the correct version of ourselves on the stuff, that's all. And you don't always have to be happy or picture-perfect about it, you don't always have to love it. But if that version of you is the right one, I suggest there is something there beyond joy. The joy can be beautiful, but time has given me the chance to understand my transness as a solemn, clear declaration of myself.

And that joy can and most likely will come back. Even if you have to find new things or think in new ways, inshallah we will all get our joyful moments. Despite everything.

be courageous when the mind deceives you be courageous

in the final account only this is important

[skywalking-through-life]

Much delayed, but for the truth-or-dare ask game: 🍓🥑🥤🧃 (🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷)

My friend! 💙💙💙💙💙

These are such good ones, omg. Sorry in advance for the word vomit, lolol

🍓 - How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Okay, so I've kind of been writing fic in my head (and sometimes in notebooks/random word documents) since I was about 8 years old, and I first realized that 'writing stories' was 1) a thing ANYONE could do, and also, sometimes, 2) a job that required refined skills, lol. When you're a kid you're told (if you're lucky) that you can do anything that you put your mind to, and little Sky loved stories more than most other things, so I couldn't imagine doing something with the rest of my life that didn't involve them! So I started practicing. The first fanfic I ever wrote was in a journal, and it was only a few pages long because I did not have great penmanship and was impatient with own slowness, lol. I'm fairly certain I was embarrassed by my efforts and threw them out. For a long time I wrote elaborate stories in my head instead, and didn't start actually doing the (MUCH harder) work of putting them on paper until high school. But I was also having a complex at that point in my life around acceptability/popularity and anxiety around being perceived as a nerd, so I was way too terrified to tell anyone I was writing it. And then I was so disillusioned by the meanness that I saw in online fandom spaces that it still took years before I got up the courage to post any of it publicly! I've had an ao3 account for the past decade, and was a lurker for a good five years before that, but I didn't start posting my own work until just under two years ago. That ought to say something, I think. 💀

🥑 - you accidentally killed someone, which mutal(s) do you text for help?

LOL, heaven forbid I ever find myself in this situation, but if so...honestly probably you, lmao, and some other folks on here that I don't think have ever been involved in crimes, but are otherwise competent, functioning adults who don't shy away from difficult/grey situations - at least in fiction, lol. @60sec400 @darkmagyk @phykios @deerlie-main , I hope you are not insulted by this. 💀

🥤- recommend an author or fanfic you love

I just did this the other week - and apparently y'all really needed recs, wow! - so I'm kind of wracking my brain here to rec something I haven't already recommended recently...there are a LOT of good options to choose from! I guess I'll go with 'percy jackson and the scrutiny of his coworkers', which is an absolutely BRILLIANT outsider pov fic by pqrker on ao3. It's popular for a reason, and the reason being that it is perfect. 🥹

🧃- share some personal lore you've never posted about before

Ooooo, hmm, what to pick, what to pick...hmm, okay, I'll go with this. A segue from my first answer, lol. I was nominated for Homecoming Queen in high school, and was the first runner up, so - hilariously - became the Homecoming Princess. It was my teen movie Cinderella-story moment, because I had always been the shy nerd in the back of the classroom, but then all of a sudden was in a fancy dress on the football field getting a crown and wondering what parallel universe and/or Taylor Swift song I'd just fallen into. And weirdly enough, knowing that I hadn't done anything special to be nominated - that people had just liked me - went a long way towards me being able to accept myself more holistically. Maybe if they liked me enough for that, I could like me enough to try and see what they saw, you know? It was years ago now, but it is a fond and bizarre memory, and was very helpful to a confused and anxious 17 year old! 😅

You may have gotten more than you planned with this ask, lol, but thank you for asking, my friend. 💙

[dreaming-marchling]

⭐  Because I couldn't choose which fic I most wanted a director's cut from. :D

I'll go with Across the Lonely Decades :)

Some BTS Tidbits:

"In the center of the mess was his newly re-made warlock. Magnus’ magic had been restored to him eight weeks ago and seeing him with his old confidence back had been a relief to Alec. Worth the trip to Edom and the literal hell he and Jace had gone through to make it right."

Imagine my deep shock when the show went in a totally different direction with this, lol. I was so sure that Jace was going to be a big driver in helping Alec get Magnus back, like nearly as intense about it as he was in getting Clary back. After Magnus and Alec sacrificed for him and with Alec's pain which Jace knew so well having just lost Clary I really thought we were going to see battle parabatai in Edom doing their damnedest because they BOTH were determined to get Magnus back. Super let down that they didn't go that route although obviously there are great aspects to what they picked. I left this bit in even after that aired just as an ode to what I wanted that arc to be.

---

This is one of the main ambience videos I used to help myself get into the Victorian mood.

---

“I don’t know much about parabatai I’ll be honest.” Ragnor said

Ragnor is not being honest. He's trying to get Alec to talk about it.

---

In answer, the warlock hurriedly handed him a… scimitar? Not his favorite and kind of a random choice but he’d take it.

I was getting into The Old Guard and Joe uses a scimitar so I threw this in for the unexpected blade Alec is given. I also picked Ragnor using Yusuf as the first Joseph iteration when he was sharing his revelation about Jozef's identity for the same reason.

---

The whole thongs conversation got added after I started posting the story because I felt like we needed another nice Bane scene of him trying after readers were even more upset about his behavior than I had anticipated.

---

“Shh,” Jozef shushed him gently. “I’m Joseph and Lottie is getting Magnus. That’s what matters, all right? I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. Dymphna won’t come back.”

“Alec!”

Magnus’ frantic voice called for him.

Alec blinked slowly.

“Stay awake, Alec.” Jozef urged him. When had he learned Alec’s name? He hadn’t known it before when he had been sending Alec through time. He hadn’t been kind then either.

I wasn't super clear in the story and it confused some readers so I'll say it clearly here - Joseph only uses Alec's name here after Magnus calls it. He doesn't know it before that, he was using it after to try to keep Alec awake. I also initially had Joseph call Alec "child" before I decided that was too much and switched it to boy. I wanted Joseph to be really kind and tender to Alec to highlight the person he used to be. Also, I forever live for the idea that Alec is very obviously not centuries old to actual centuries old beings lol

---

Alec felt like he was floating.

I added this whole section to further break hearts right before the chapter was posted.

I pre-write all my stories before I start posting and while I'm editing as the story is posting I have added little bits to stories but I have never added so many scenes as I did to Across the Lonely Decades. I was having so much fun with this one and had so many feels and this was one of my favorite experiences with readers, I just wanted to give more and more.

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A reader was sad that I didn't include Magnus' POV of Alec getting glamoured for their morning bread date so I wrote them this in a reply comment, in case anyone here has never seen it:

Magnus didn't go into this with plans for how he would change Alec. If he was going to take his 21st century boy out for as many different 19th century experiences as he could, he would likely be magically disguising him enough times that a great deal of fun could be had through the month. Right now, he had plans that needed them out the door quickly so he was just going to play a game of opposites top to bottom.

First, hair. Lengthen it and lighten it. He sent a pulse of magic at Alec and his hair grew rapidly, going from his usual short style into...

Oh.

Oh that was...

Alec leaned into the mirror to inspect his new hair, “What are you doing?”

Every moment of every day Alec was beautiful, Magnus was agonizingly aware of all the ways, but this...

It was like a Greek statue had come to life. Lush and lovely, made for worship. Tousled curls framed Alec's face, somehow highlighting his hazel eyes and making them glow. He looked like a Romantic poet, like he was about to whisper sonnets into Magnus' ear, like they were...

“Magnus?” Alec asked sort of cautiously.

Alec's voice broke the spell abruptly. “Apologies, darling, that hit me harder than I anticipated.”

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To Alec’s surprised, Cat gave him a brisk rub of her hands over his arms, “I’m joining Eula and Kaira at the pantomime. Send me a fire message if he keels over but otherwise, have a lovely time and I’ll rejoin you tonight.”

Eula and Kaira are from Hybrid. Kaira more prominently as one of the warlocks who comes to help Magnus get the collar off and Eula is one of the warlocks who were killed to give Alec magic, Valentine calls her a bore when she argues with him.

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But her eyes were the same. The pleased smile was the same. Martha stood in front of him.

“Hello, pretty boy.”

I didn't end up getting into their reunion conversation but Martha had been keeping an eye on Magnus for decades waiting for Alec to start appearing at his side. Technically she could have gone to Magnus while they were freaking out trying to find Alec and explaining but that would possibly ruin getting Alec home so she didn't. She was pretty pleased to get the call inviting her over knowing now was the time. Now that she doesn't have to stay away she and Alec become buddies :)

Thank you for asking!