#also if anyone wants to just like. claim one of the counselors as their OC to do whatever with I would be happy with that

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

Everyone is leaving.

1 from fox cabin, 2 from panda, and another from wolf cabin. They already left. She thinks two might have meant something to her.

A sibling, maybe? No, she wouldn't forget someone like that.

Áfonya could go, but it feels like her feet are rooted in place.

This camp was...different than what she expected it to be. A pleasant suprise, if you will.

She made friends, had a roof over her head. And it begins to dawn on her that she has nowhere to return to.

And it begs the question.

What if...what if she doesn't leave?

She could spend her days on the camp grounds, not having to spend another storm outside.

She can't exactly go back to the village, it burn to crisps. (She can't shake the feeling that it might have been her fault.) And they wouldn't exactly be happy to see her return alone either. Wherever they are now.

They are patrolling around, making sure no egg leaves. They are terrible at their job, it seems.

Mr. Rabbit, he is talking to to the camp director. The longer Áfonya stares at the bear, the tug in her chest strengthens.

The counselors starts to have a concerned expression on his face the moment his eyes land on the egg.

"You have to go, Áfonya. I can help you leave." He whispered.

Áfonya can't believe it.

Does he not want her to stay?

(He was the first adult in a good while to be kind to Áfonya, he was patient, nice, and understanding. Áfonya, Áfonya is none of that. She is supposed to bring doom, she is supposed to be mad.)

Hah, after she was starting to believe that somebody cared. She frowned, looking at the rabbit, saddened.

She feels betrayed.

She clutches her plushie tightly.

Mr. Rabbit spurs up an excuse to Not Cucurucho, as to where they are going. Some lie about making sure she doesn't leave. But now she knows that he wants her gone.

(Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt that Mr. Rabbit doesn't want her near? It is something she should have learnt early, it is something she learnt early. Everybody leaves eventually.)

The way they are going is...too familiar. She knows she had taken this path before, afraid and shaking.

It is sunrise. The orange hue slipping in before light blue takes over. The mornings are like any other, chirping of the birds who were up earlier than any other. They do not care for misery, nor do they care for happiness, they only care of sustaining their flight against the wind.

She follows quietly behind Mr. Rabbit, trailing. The door opens, the metal screeching loudly.

Corridos upon corridors, Mr. Rabbit fills in the silence with mumbling, but for most of the journey, not a word is said.

She faintly wonders about her cabin mates. They've been nothing but kind too, it was fun hanging out with them. She has no idea where they are right now, did they escape too?

Soup, Ping, and that new egg, Outdoor. They didn't speak much, her and Outdoor, besides greetings. Maybe they could be friends too, someday, but not today.

This place is too familiar, the blank walls are...surely something. Doors line every wall, who knows what lurk behind each and every one of them, who knows who watches through the gaps.

After what felt like forever, they reach a door, the rabbit pushes it open, glancing nervously at the egg.

It's the outside.

"Run, Áfonya."

And Áfonya does.

She is free. From what? She doesn't know.

But what she does know is that she is alone again.

Alone.

(There was no one to tell if she cried watching the sunrise.)

Poor Áfonya 😭😭😭 Congrats(?) on escaping!

[randoimago]

Day 27 - Enemies to Lovers

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Character(s): Kendo Itsuka

Type of Request: 31 Days of Oc-Trope-R

Note(s): I did my best to keep her in character with this concept. It kind of borderlines Enemies to Lovers and Rivals to Lovers.

She doesn't quite know how it started between you two. Maybe it was because she didn't really care about the rivalry that you claimed to have. Honestly, she viewed you as another Monoma to deal with (which also probably added to your hatred of her).

But it's so annoying how you try to one up her all the time. She doesn't get why you're trying so hard. And then, out of spite, she tries harder and usually succeeds, pissing you off more.

It's interesting for others to watch and see just because neither you or Kendo seem to have this temperament. It's only when you're both interacting with the other that it's a bit scary.

And then you two are assigned partners during a training exercise. It goes as well as anyone expects. You're both trying to make plans that clash with the other. And then when an olive branch is extended, it catches fire because now your compromises make another disagreement. Vlad King has enough and throws you both into detention because of how badly the training went.

Neither of you have a great time with detention. You're both stuck in the same room and having to write lines. At least there's no school counselor to put you in a "get along" jacket. But Kendo uses the silence to take a deep breath and think.

She doesn't know what it is about you that gets under her skin. She doesn't know what she did to make you hate her so much. But she knows that should you both ever need to fight an actual villain that there wouldn't be any second chances.

"Hey," Kendo speaks up and you ignore her. She should've expected that. "Your idea was good. For the practice." she states and you scoff.

"Yeah, I know." Kendo bristles at your comment but forces it down. "But you had to argue instead. Little miss perfect." It's Kendo's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah cause your idea was you going off alone to look cool when the other team targeted you."

"It was so I could be bait while you'd be safe and get us to win," you argue and Kendo pauses. You were thinking about her safety? Her lips purse at that idea.

"Pitting yourself against two people is stupid. If this wasn't training-"

"Why would we end up in this situation outside of training? Two heroes-in-training conveniently against two villains-in-training?" You reply and roll your eyes. "Look, it was a plan for that specific combat training. Everyone knows you're physically strong so it makes sense for me to act aggressive to throw them off."

"I still didn't want you to sacrifice yourself for me. Even if it's a stupid training session," Kendo states and sighs. She really misjudged your intentions.

"You think I can't take on two guys at once?" You ask and Kendo realizes that it does sound like she's underestimating you.

"Maybe I don't want you to be hurt either," she states and you fall silent at that. "You know, I don't know what I did. But I don't hate you. I never wanted to be your enemy," she says with a sigh and you sigh back.

"Do you think I hate you?" The look on her face says enough. "I don't hate you. I just want you to notice me. Everyone in class knows how strong and smart you are, I'm not trying to upstage that. But I want you to know that I'm strong too. That you can rely on me."

She severely misjudged you.

"I see... Maybe we should start over?" She suggests and you shrug.

"I don't really want to start over. I mean, we've both annoyed the hell out of each other. I doubt you'll be willing to forget that." She almost argues but realizes that you're right. "After detention, let's go out to eat somewhere. Vlad King said we'll get a redo of the training," you suggest and Kendo nods.

"Yeah, sounds good. We can plan then. If we end up against the same team, then they will probably underestimate us because of how we acted," she adds and you give her a smile. A smile that makes her realize that she really likes seeing it.

"Good. It's a date." She barely processes your words before she realizes how badly she misjudged your intentions towards her.

And then she puts the pieces together and realizes that you didn't hate her. You weren't fighting to take her spot. You were pushing yourself just as hard so you could prove you're strong for her. And now the ball is in her court as she feels like an idiot for not realizing all of this sooner.

"Yeah. It's a date."

[southerndaughterofeos]

Intro post!

Hiii! I'm Aurelia, daughter of Eos. Me and some other demigods + an automaton friend go on @willows-pjo-ocs together, but I saw my girlfriend make her own blog, so I decided to follow in her footsteps!

Here's some basic information about me:

Age: 15

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: lesbian

Godly parent: Eos

Powers: photokinesis, limited hydrokinesis (morning dew only), and I'm a bit stronger at dawn.

Status: Happily taken by @kiaradaughterofselene

@pink-koi-lovejoy is a good friend of mine!

I like to think I'm pretty nice, so just be kind, and we're good!

Ooc under the cut

Hello! I decided to try and make separate blogs for my ocs since I have way too many for one blog

I'm also the mod of @willows-pjo-ocs and my main account is @gaygirldoodles

I also run

@kiaradaughterofselene

@glykera

@overlyprotectiveheadcounselor

@amaiahunterofartemis

@melissathetherapist

@selene-goddess-of-the-moon

#willow speaks ◇ is for when the mod is talking or just anything ooc

#willows pjo ocs ♡ and #southern daughter of dawn are both for in character stuff!

Her backstory is going to be mostly, if not completely, copy pasted from the group intro post on @willows-pjo-ocs

anyways backstory stuff

Aurelia is a 15 year old demigod daughter of Eos. She is from small town Mississippi and she came to camp closer to when she was 14, so pretty recently. She is currently dating Kiara Belvedere, as said above. She arrived at camp after an emposai attacked her. (Probably a satyr who brought her, but idk.)

She arrived at camp post the events of the Heroes of Olympus books and thus didn't fight in those same battles that Kiara did. (Once again, if there was one in toa I didn't read it yet.)

She dealt with/deals with a lot of internalized homophobia and stuff like that since she grew up in small town Mississippi.

But she never really extended it towards others. It always confused her why people would be upset about who someone loves or what their gender identity was or anything like that

But as soon as it was her who happened to be a kiss-girl (im so sorry i cannot take myself seriously), she hated herself for it. It was fine when anyone else was like that, but not her.

She ends up being able to accept herself more slowly after she and Kiara don't start dating quite yet, but are kinda talking? Do you call it that if you've been best friends for a while and already acting pretty gay around her? Idk. Seriously, Marilene (head counselor for the Selene cabin) was waiting for the longest time for them to just kiss.

They do end up dating dw

This really reminds me of Once More to See You by Mitski because Kiara really just wanted to tell everyone and everything about how much she loved Aurelia, but Aurelia was still closeted at this point. (Sorry if im making it sound like it was a bad thing that she was closeted. it's not and, good on her for taking her time and doing it when she was comfortable)

Face claim:

Tag list:

@unhinged-waterlilly @mache-of-greece @the-gods-abandoned-us @arisdaughter @kaiaalwayswins @yourlocalfallenstar @son-of-the-moonlight @luci-likes-dinoss @elixs-mythology-corner @bast-the-best26 @emdabitchass @if-chaos-was-a-boy @luck-is-crucial @love-lightning-forethought @the-prince-telemachus @pink-koi-lovejoy @fire-boy-official

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (08)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Series: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

warnings: unrealistic court happenings i am not a lawyer ok mention of physical abuse, drinking problems, child trauma, mental illness, and infidelity. I want to build a whole new world in this fic that’s why i also didn’t research about divorce trials I’m sorry. OC is kind of annoying/disappointing in this chapter (?) or not (?) Young Choi Soobin of TXT is the kid in this chapter’s moodboard

Jeongguk was the ex-boyfriend Red was talking about.

You figured this out when you were at Seokjin's party. Frankly, the way your soulmate was looking at Red was already a giveaway, but then you had to confirm it yourself.

The only way to do that was to either confront Jeongguk or your assistant.

You chose neither and it was because you were afraid to hear what they would or wouldn't say. This being said, you resorted to your last option.

"Come on..." It was hard to sit on the floor when you're wearing a damn long dress, but this didn't stop you from rummaging through Red's personal things.

It's the middle of the night. You left Jeongguk at your apartment right after he reached his high.

You just wanted to teach him a lesson for being a brat. He was always so rude to you and you honestly thought that he was just in denial—that soon enough, he would realize that you two were really destined to be together.

Apparently, that wasn't going to happen.

You went to your office at one in the morning just to find something that would verify your speculation. You got what you wanted. The photograph of Jeongguk kissing your assistant confirmed it.

Your tears fell.

You didn't know why you felt betrayed. It wasn't like they wanted this. They hadn't done anything wrong. Fate was just cruel. Why didn't you meet Jeongguk first? You couldn't blame him for falling in love with Red—she was sweet, beautiful, and smart. Anyone would definitely like her, so you had no choice but to swallow the lump in your throat and accept this.

You just had to pretend like everything was alright.

It wasn't.

The divorce trial was near and there were still so many things you had to fix. Work was seriously draining the hell out of you and it wasn't like Jeongguk was helping. He was actually adding up to the stress you were feeling.

Jeongguk was giving you the silent treatment and no—it wasn't the type of silence you were used to. Before Seokjin's party, your soulmate was quiet, but not really. He would occasionally huff to let you know that he was annoyed at you. He would also stamp his feet and slam the door just to spite you.

You didn't mind. You knew he was just being a brat; however, things were different now.

After the night of Seokjin's party, Jeongguk changed. He was eerily silent, always avoiding eye contact with you.

You tried talking to him. Regrettably, you were only greeted by stillness.

"You want pizza, Gukkie?"

Nothing.

"Have you watched the latest episode of Start-up?"

Still nothing.

"Did you have a good sleep?"

Nope. Nothing. Nada.

"Wanna make out on the couch?"

Jeongguk's head jolted to your direction. His eyes were wide, cheeks turning crimson because of your bold statement.

"Hey!" You giggled, clearly happy with his reaction. "You finally looked at me!"

Jeongguk shook his head and then he went straight to his room.

You were unbelievable.

You pouted your lips, giving up. You had a feeling that he would come around.

He did. Days later, Jeongguk surprised you when he stood right in front of the door of your apartment. He was blocking your way out.

"Gukkie, I'm going to be late." You sighed. He reminded you of Miri, your cat that's always trying to stop you from leaving.

"You can't leave." His jaw clenched.

You let out a breath once again.

"Don't do this please. Mr. Kim needs me,"

The trial was happening today. You needed to run down a few things with your client before you go to the court room.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jeongguk folded his arms over his chest.

You stared at him.

"I don't get what?" It was hard to keep your composure when the thing you had been trying to avoid for so long was being rubbed in your face. You knew exactly what Jeongguk was implying.

"—that you want me to drop this case because you want Red all to yourself?"

Jeongguk froze. What was the point of staying silent when you always knew what was running inside his head?

You just always knew.

"You don't have to pretend that you care about Soobin's well-being. I have enough people doing just that," you slightly pushed Jeongguk to the side so that you could pass through the door.

Ah, people.

They're all the same, always trying to conceal their self-interest by pretending that they care for others.

You liked Jeongguk—actually; you were convinced you loved him. He was your soulmate after all, but sometimes love wasn't enough to just give into what he wanted.

This wasn't about your relationship. This was about Soobin's welfare. He's just a child. You were a lawyer who swore an oath to protect the oppressed and incapable. You were their voice.

It sounded cheesy, but this was the type of person you aspired to be. The world was already dark, it wouldn't hurt to be someone's light.

Jeongguk didn't understand your reasons. It was evident when he showed up in court to watch you defend Kim Seokjin.

At first, you thought your eyes were failing you. Was he really here? Was he really the man at the back of the room wearing that big hoodie?

It was him. The familiar scowl on his face said so. Jeongguk was the only person who looked at you like you had offended his whole family.

"All rise!"

You turned to your client upon hearing the bailiff's demand.

"It's going to be alright," assured by you.

Seokjin smiled. He was looking at Red instead of you. He needed the comfort of his soulmate.

Red grinned back. She wasn't worried. She trusted you. She was certain you would succeed. Soobin wasn't going to be taken away from his father.

The first few minutes of the trial went smooth. You had your story straight and with the way the judge was nodding; you instantly knew she was in favor of your side.

Unfortunately, things started to go ugly during the cross-examination of witnesses.

Jung Hoseok was the first one to take the stand. He was the expert witness.

"You are the marriage counselor of Mr. and Mrs. Kim for months now, right?"

"Yes." Hoseok answered the opposing counsel. It was weird seeing him this serious. Your friend was always grinning, but you told him to try to keep a neutral face. This way, the judge and the jury wouldn't know if he was caught off guard by the question of the other side's attorney.

"Mr. Jung, is it true that marriage counselors rarely suggest divorce to their clients?"

"Depends—" Hoseok bit his tongue. You told him to simply answer yes or no. Be responsive to the question and never explain. "I mean, yes."

"And yet here we are..." Ms. Choi, the opposing attorney, shrugged her shoulders.

"Objection!" You stood up. "Relevance?"

You didn't understand why Ms. Choi asked that question to Hoseok when she's just shrugging it off now.

"Sustained." The judge felt the same way.

Ms. Choi raised her hand as if surrendering.

"My bad. I'm just curious, you know? If Mr. Jung is indeed an effective counselor, then why did he suggest that the Kim couple push through the divorce?"

Ms. Choi was furrowing her brow at Hoseok.

"Isn't that true, Counselor Jung? You told Mrs. Kim that it's better to end her marriage with Mr. Kim?"

"Yes." The expert witness answered truthfully.

The opposing side's attorney smiled mockingly.

"It's because you feared for Mrs. Kim's safety, right?"

"What?" Jung Hoseok was lost.

"Come on, Mr. Jung you know exactly what I am talking about! You found out that Mr. Kim is an alcoholic and you are scared that he might harm Mrs. Kim and Soobin, right?" Ms. Choi pointed at the five year old kid who was busy coloring books in the far corner of the room. He was with Seokjin's mother.

"Objection, Your Honor! Compound question!" You glared at Ms. Choi.

"Sustained." The judge clenched her jaw. "Ms. Choi, separate your questions. You are misleading the jury..."

Ms. Choi was flustered, yet she still held her head high. She knew she had the upper hand here.

"Is Mr. Kim alcoholic, Mr. Jung?" She tried again.

Hoseok cleared his throat.

"He had a history of abusing alcohol years ago."

"And you know this because you're also a licensed alcohol and drug counselor, correct?"

"Yes..."

"And Mr. Kim Seokjin also told you about his issue with regard to alcohol abuse?"

"Yes." Hoseok swallowed hard.

There were papers that could attest to Hoseok's claim. This was a win for Mrs. Kim. You could see her growing sarcastic smile that was directed at Red.

You inhaled deeply.

"Mr. Jung, can you please tell us the rate of patients going through alcohol relapse?"

"Uh, it's sixty to ninety percent after the first year of treatment," answered by Hoseok.

"I see. How long has it been since Mr. Kim sobered up?"

"As far as I know, it has been three years."

"Huh." Ms. Choi crossed her arms. "So is there a possibility that Mr. Kim would experience an alcohol relapse?"

"Yes."

"What's the statistical probability, Mr. Jung?"

"About fifty percent high." Hoseok looked dejected. He wanted to help Seokjin win the case, but he couldn't lie.

"I see." Ms. Choi was smiling as if she had already won the case.

"Can you tell us now the effects of experiencing an alcohol relapse? Or a slip?"

Hoseok's palms were sweating. Slip was one episode of drinking alcohol after trying to stay sober. Relapse, on the other hand, was the return to unhealthy behavior. Slip wasn't always followed by a relapse.

Hoseok also explained that there were different stages of relapse. Emotional relapse could cause suppression of emotions, becoming more isolated, trying to blame other people, and aggression, especially when they were confronted. There's also mental and physical relapse which included glamorizing alcohol and compulsive desires to drink.

"No further questions, Your Honor." The corner of Ms. Choi's mouth turned up upon realizing that the jury was in favor of their side now.

You had to step up your game.

The next witness was Son Chae-young. She was Soobin's babysitter. Chae-young had been living with the Kims ever since Soobin was born. She's a witness testifying against Seokjin.

Chae-young cleared her throat when your eyes landed on her. She already felt uncomfortable because of the way you were looking at her.

The way you stand up—shoulder down, neck long—was intimidating.

"You have a really nice necklace, Ms. Son."

Chae-young flinched upon hearing your compliment. She was confused. Mrs. Kim and Attorney Choi told her that you were scary, this was evident by the way you present yourself, but then...the way your eyes light up made her feel at ease. Your voice was soft too.

"Ah...thanks," regardless of your sweet persona, Chae-young still couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Why were you looking at her as if she was important? As if you were here to protect and not cross-examine her?

"Is it from Cartier?"

"Yes!" The babysitter beamed at you as she touched her pretty jewelry.

You smiled warmly at her.

"Did you buy it yourself?"

"Objection! Relevance?" The opposing lawyer clenched her fist. She was shaking, causing you to smile bigger. Guess she knew what was coming to her, huh?

"I'm getting there, Your Honor," said by you. Your expression screamed confidence that the judge was compelled to believe you.

"Overruled."

You continued.

"So...Ms. Son, did you buy that necklace? Or is it a gift?"

"Uh..." Chae-young's lips trembled. She was looking at Mrs. Kim, as if she was asking for her boss' help. "I-I bought it for myself..."

"I see." You nodded. Humoring her. "Do you have any other job aside from babysitting Kim Soobin?"

The nanny shook her head.

"N-No. I'm a full-time nanny of Mrs. Kim's son." Chae-young's lips were still shaking; her eyes were quivering as well.

"Hm, interesting..." You went closer to the witness. "That means you're earning what? Two hundred fifty dollars a month?"

"Objection, Your Honor! I still can't see the relevance of this!" Ms. Choi was losing her mind.

You turned to glare at her.

"Can’t you really see the relevance of this or are you just scared?"

You heard the judge's hit the gavel; she was calling your attention.

"Get to the point right now." The judge demanded at you. It was this or your statement was going to be sustained.

"I am merely establishing my point, Your Honor." Your voice was rough. "The necklace Ms. Son is wearing is worth four thousand three hundred dollars. I know because I have the same necklace and it took me, a lawyer, months!" You paused for a while just to emphasize the word months, "to buy it."

You turned to Chae-young when the judge remained silent.

"So tell me, Ms. Son, how can a full-time nanny like you who's earning minimum wage buy that kind of luxurious jewelry? Huh?" You were standing too close to the witness so Attorney Choi used this as an opportunity to object.

"Your Honor, she is badgering the witness!"

"Overruled." But the judge wasn't having any of it. "Answer the question, Ms. Son."

"I'm sorry!" The nanny's face twisted in fear. "Mrs. Kim bought it for me—"

"It's a gift!" Mrs. Kim blurted out, unable to contain her anger anymore. God. She hated you. "I bought it for her last month! It's my birthday gift for her!"

You smirked. Attorney Choi was panicking. She was caressing Mrs. Kim's hand, telling her to calm down.

Sadly, Mrs. Kim could not be stopped.

"Why am I explaining to you when you have no right to question my intention! It's my money so I get to decide what to do with it!"

She was yelling at you and it almost made you laugh. Why was she so defensive?

"May I remind you that you are a married woman, Mrs. Kim? You have to consider your husband's decision when it comes to spending that amount of money." You said this while glancing at the jury.

Base on their expressions, you knew that they agreed with you. This was a win on your side. One of the valid reasons of Seokjin for wanting a divorce was this. Mrs. Kim didn't know how to manage their assets.

You weren't done, though. You had to discredit the witness. You had to win the jury's side in all aspects.

"And you said you bought it last month for Ms. Son's birthday?" You shook your head, focusing your eyes at the nanny.

"Tell us, Ms. Son, when is your birthday?"

Mrs. Kim's face became pale upon hearing your question.

"January seventeen...”

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Kim again.

"Your birthday present is many months late, Mrs. Kim. Either that or you're just lying to hide the fact that you gave Ms. Son the necklace in exchange of testifying against your husband—"

"Objection—"Attorney Choi tried to stop you, but you cut her off too.

"Isn't that right, Ms. Son? You are bribed by your boss to say that you always see Mr. Kim Seokjin drinking alcohol—"

"Your Honor—" The opposing attorney was losing control, her objections were drowning because of how loud your voice was.

"Mrs. Kim wants you to lie! To say that her husband isn't a good father! That he isn't a good influence to Soobin!"

"Yes!"

You stopped trying to pressure Chae-young because it already worked. She admitted the truth.

"Mrs. Kim bribed me!" The babysitter sobbed, looking at you like you were the Lord and she was a sinner.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I-I can't say no, please...please...I need this job!"

"You bitch!" Mrs. Kim abruptly stood up. She wanted to attack you; fortunately the security officers were able to stop her.

The jury was surprised to see Mrs. Kim's violent reaction. You, on the other hand, didn't even flinch.

You were used to this kind of scene. Besides, you couldn't get sidetracked. You still needed to prove your point.

And so you faced the jury.

"Is this the kind of person that you want to raise a sweet, innocent five year-old kid?"

One of the members of the jury clutched her chest. She was affected by what you had said. Truthfully, they were almost decided to grant the sole custody to Mrs. Kim; however, upon seeing the latter's behavior, the jury was having second thoughts now.

"Just look at her!" You pointed at Mrs. Kim who was still seething with rage.

"She constrained an adult! Imagine the bad things she could force Soobin to do! Mrs. Kim is a manipulator!" You raised your voice dramatically.

"My actions are nothing compared to what that asshole is doing!" Mrs. Kim screamed as she angrily pointed at her husband.

She was crying.

Kim Seokjin was quiet. He was shocked by your responses. He didn't expect you to be this bold. You were different from the lawyer he thought he knew.

You didn't have any limit. You didn't know when to stop just to prove a point.

"He's teaching my son that it's okay to be unfaithful to your wife! Jury, please!" Mrs. Kim was desperate. "Don't let him come near my son! He's a drunken bastard!"

The judge was hitting the gavel again. There were too much drama and unnecessary comments from Mrs. Kim.

You shook your head. You couldn't stop now. The jury was undecided. They changed their minds from time to time. You could see sympathy in their eyes as they looked at the wife.

"Mr. Kim Seokjin is sober! You should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Kim! You keep blaming your husband when you're the reason why he turned alcoholic in the first place—"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Attorney Choi glared at you. "The attorney is assuming facts!"

You disagreed before the judge could say sustained.

"Am I?" You smirked at the judge before turning to your table to get your evidence.

Seokjin looked at you nervously.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing," groaned by your client.

You were blinded by your role as a lawyer, so you ignored Seokjin's plea.

"Don't do this..."

Seokjin was already too late.

"I have here the evidence that will prove that Mrs. Kim is the reason why her husband turned alcoholic."

You brought out the printed photos of Seokjin's beaten up face. Bruises, cuts, and other physical injuries were seen.

The jury gasped. Attorney Choi was groaning as she told the judge that these photos were not entered into evidence.

You were playing dirty, but so were they. Ms. Choi told you that they wouldn't bring Mr. Kim's sobriety issue in this court. She lied.

"These pictures are given to me by Mrs. Kim Sunghee, Seokjin's mother." You glanced at your client's mother.

"She knows that her son's wife was assaulting him. Seokjin didn't want to feel his wife's punches so he resorted to drinking the pain away. Mr. Kim just wants to be numb."

"N-No..." Your client's tears streamed down his cheeks. He was calling your name, begging you to stop.

It felt like everyone was begging you to stop; even Sunghee was shaking her head.

It was wrong. This was a mistake. Seokjin's mother realized this when Soobin began to cry. He was silently crying at first, but when the little boy saw the photos in your hand, he started hyperventilating.

"Appa!" Soobin's eyes dilated. He could barely breathe.

Mrs. Kim stood up to attend to her son.

"Soobin!" Mrs. Kim was wailing.

Things were becoming messy.

You didn't understand what was happening, so you just stood there.

"Appa! A-Appa is hurting!" Soobin was losing it; his eyes were rolling in the back of his head.

"Call 911!" Red shouted.

The noise was deafening.

You still didn't get what was happening.

Seokjin went near you.

"I told you not to do it!" He shouted, snatching the photos away from your shaky hands.

"This isn't about me or my wife!" Seokjin continued to scream at you.

You were stunned.

Your client was blaming you.

This is your fault! Seokjin said.

You were wrong. You didn't have to bring out these photos because apparently, Soobin knew.

He witnessed how his mom used to beat up his father.

The poor kid was traumatized.

He had to get some help.

His parents thought he had recovered.

It had been years.

The thing about trauma was, it never went away. It was there—silently sleeping and waiting for that one thing that would trigger it.

You triggered Soobin.

"I-I didn't know..." Your voice was low as you stated your excuse.

No one wanted to hear your lame excuse, not even Jeongguk.

You looked at your soulmate once.

You looked at him desperately.

You looked at him hoping that he would understand—like he would comfort you.

He would never.

Jeongguk had this look in his eyes, the kind of feeling that expressed disappointment.

Jeongguk was disappointed in you.

It was clear because right now, he was shaking his head as if you had done the most horrifying thing in the world.

He shook his head before leaving you all alone.

No one wanted to be with you.

You were a disgrace.

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Argo ch. 1

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

2897 words, 3rd person POV

This is not following canon closely at all and I'm kinda blending bits of Jason's personality between original movies, the remake, and fan versions so this is pretty solidly AU. I hope you enjoy!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

There was no pleasure in killing. It was a task, like any other, but one that had to be done adequately. Even if it took several tries and the body was mangled by the end of it, the life had to be gone from their eyes.

"We can't have them coming back to hurt us, can we?"

Mother was right. Mother was always right. She was the only one who cared. She was the only one who knew kindness. It was her idea and her decision to take revenge against the wicked counselors of Camp Crystal Lake, and what she wanted, she would get.

She had nearly died herself trying to punish the ones responsible for her son's drowning, and so the pair needed to live in hiding, deep in the woods surrounding the camp. It took over ten years of teaching and training, but it was finally time. Mother knew best, and Jason Voorhees was willing to serve her every command.

Four years ago, Jason began his killing spree. He picked off the counselors one by one, catching each in a deadly infraction. He worked carefully at first, making the disappearances look like believable shirking of duties or horrible accidents. That year, authorities ruled the camp could reopen for the next season with some extra safety precautions. Jason was praised so lovingly that year.

The second year, Jason continued his streak, but allowed himself to get a little sloppy. The murders were attributed to one of the staff members, and no one was the wiser to his presence (or, more importantly, his mother's). The camp was forcibly closed for the following season, and Jason's mother prayed it would stay closed and they could be free of the evil of the counselors who knew no compassion.

But, as an investigation cleared the camp of outside interference, further cementing the falsely accused staff member as the murderer, Crystal Lake reopened for another season, forcing Jason out of hiding once more. He did not want to go back, having enjoyed the peaceful summer with his mother last year, but he knew he had a job to do. He dusted off his mask, sharpened his machete, and set out for Camp Crystal Lake once more.

This year already felt different for Jason. Perhaps it was the time off, or perhaps he was growing tired of killing, but this year he decided to approach things in a different way. He spent the first two weeks of camp watching from the shadows, identifying the counselors and their habits. There were eight of them: four men, four women. Their ages were uncertain, but it seemed the youngest was about seventeen and the oldest was about twenty-five, the majority being roughly twenty-one. College age, Mother had said, was the worst age for most folks. Leftover rebellion from their adolescence and newfound freedom created a sinful breeding ground for debauchery and cruelty that needed to be punished. Jason was of this age now as well, and he had promised to not let himself lose sight of his task.

During the weeks Jason watched the camp, he noticed a few important details. First, he noticed that ghost stories about the murders he and his mother had committed were being told at nightly bonfires, embellished to near supernatural lengths. This excited Jason to some degree, seeing that his hard work had noticeable impact years later. Second, he noticed there were no hikes on the outer trails and strict curfews were imposed on both the campers and the counselors, keeping the grounds barren between the hours of 9PM and 7AM. This rule would make Jason's work difficult if he planned on making any of these deaths appear accidental, but he could improvise if needed.

The third detail, and the most curious of all, Jason noticed that out of all eight counselors, one stood out as unique. The first distinctive feature was that he was shorter than the rest of his coworkers, somewhere close to five feet tall. Jason almost mistook him for a camper at first, but the back of his shirt clearly read 'COUNSELOR'. What truly set him apart from the rest, however, was how attentive he was to the campers. He made sure every voice was heard and no one felt left out. He kept a bright and supportive demeanor no matter the circumstances, and helped the campers with every activity. Furthermore, he did not seem interested in sneaking off to sacrifice his job duties in favor of more lecherous behavior. Jason found himself growing fascinated with this counselor, and opted to watch him a little more closely to see if he had any damning secrets that would confirm his impending death with the rest.

Another week dragged on, and Jason regrettably had lost track of time. He followed this seemingly kind counselor as he engaged the children in their activities and lent a listening ear to those who had problems or concerns. What could he be hiding? Mother was certain that anyone who took a job at this camp was a bad person, and Mother was always right...right?

"Alright, everyone!" the strange counselor called one morning, catching the attention of his group, "It's Friday tomorrow, and that means s'mores night!"

He allowed for a brief cheer from the kids before quieting them down again to continue,

"S'mores are really nice, aren't they?" Whoops and words of agreement rose from the group. "Do we agree that nice kids deserve to have nice treats?" More affirmations rang out. "That's right! But it's come to my attention, as well as the other counselors, that there's been some of you who haven't been as nice as they should be."

Jason leaned forward from his seated vantage point on a log, listening curiously to the counselor's teaching moment. Would he punish the whole group of kids for a minority's bad behavior? Would he revoke s'mores privileges? Would he try to drown some of the children in the lake? That last one was unlikely, but the thought still crossed Jason's mind. The counselor continued,

"Here at Camp Crystal Lake, we value honesty, teamwork, and what else?"

"Accountability," the children chorused.

"Exactly right," he praised, "And if one of us is being picked on, it's up to the rest of us to help them feel included, right?"

"Right!"

The counselor clapped his hands together, smiling kindly at the group.

"I don't want anyone to feel like they're in trouble, so we're gonna make this into a game, okay?" he proposed, "We're all detectives looking for clues on whodunnit. We have to solve the mystery of who's being a bully and have them apologize by tomorrow night, or all the s'mores will have to go away until next week. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," the kids answered, somewhat anxious now that the promised snacks might be withheld.

"Awesome! Here are the rules of the game: you can't force someone to give you a clue if they don't want to. That would defeat the purpose of the game! You also can't point any fingers until the bonfire is lit tomorrow night. If the person who was mean wants to come forward on their own, they have to come to me or one of the other counselors so it doesn't spoil the end of the game. Once the person is revealed, they have to apologize to the person they hurt and will spend the weekend making it up to them because, here at Camp Crystal Lake, we want everyone to have a great time. If one of us isn't having a good time, we all have to work together to help them so we can leave here at the end of the summer with the best memories and the best friends. So let me hear it from you guys: are we ready to go out and have a great day?"

The kids burst into another round of cheers and the counselor shepherded them off to their first activity of the day. Jason propped his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin in his hand. He frowned in contemplation. This counselor was so dedicated to the kids...could he be an exception? Could Jason's mother have been wrong? He would have to catch this counselor alone to find out more. He still had plenty of time to dispatch the whole staff, he figured, so he had the time to learn what he could about this one counselor.

Jason stalked the counselor over the next few hours, watching him be the perfect role model for the kids as usual. Finally, sometime near midday, the counselor took a break after passing his group to another and announced he was going to check the nearest hiking trail for debris before he took the kids on it later. One of the female counselors offered to walk with him, and Jason detected signs of flirtation in her body language, but he refused, claiming it would be a short trip. Jason felt his heart beat faster with anticipation, following him just out of sight as he walked the trail, moving any large sticks or rocks from the path. Jason flexed his fingers on the hilt of his machete, wondering if he should kill him now despite having no evidence yet that he was a bad person. He resolved he would wait until they were far enough away from the camp where screams would not carry, then he would decide.

The counselor moved at a brisk and energetic pace, enjoying his time alone. He seemed so full of life and vigor...Jason almost felt bad that he was planning on murdering him. The counselor stopped at a fallen branch blocking the path and looked it over, his hands on his hips.

"That's a big one," he commented to himself, "I hope I can get it out of the way on my own."

With that he bent down to lift one end of the branch, stepping backwards to drag it off the trail. From Jason's position, he could see another, smaller branch on the ground behind the counselor, twisted and gnarled, but big enough to pose a hazard. Jason watched as the counselor caught his foot on the hidden branch and tumbled backwards, rolling through the leaves and sticks as he fell down the slope. He went over a slanted rock near the bottom and crumpled on the other side of a rotting log, his ankle caught in a hole in the log. Jason slowly approached, minding his steps down the slope so he would not fall as well.

The counselor grunted in pain as he pushed himself up on his elbows and attempted to free his leg from the log. He had dirt on his face and debris in his hair and, as Jason drew closer and could see more clearly, cuts and scrapes all over his arms and legs. Unsuccessful in his attempts, the counselor fell back on his elbows, breathing hard. He craned his neck to look over the log, having heard the approaching footsteps, and his eyes met Jason's, mere feet away.

"Oh my gosh, you startled me!" he greeted, "Thank goodness someone else was on the trail! I'm okay, by the way, I'm just a little stuck. Can you help me out?"

Jason froze as the counselor addressed him. Oddly enough, he didn't seem afraid, despite Jason's hulking stature, out of place hockey mask, and freshly sharpened blade in hand. He tilted his head to one side, puzzled. He hadn't been this close to another person (aside from his mother) in almost two years, but he distinctly remembered every person he had been this close to fearing him on sight. He looked down at his machete, wondering what was holding him back from stabbing this man and walking away. It was all so easy before...

"Ooh, yes, you came prepared!" the counselor said, noticing the machete as well, "If you're careful, you can probably hack around the opening so I can get my foot loose. If you want, I can get you some free food back at camp for helping me out. It's not much, but Miriam makes a mean chicken salad."

He smiled up at Jason, and Jason felt his heart stop for a moment. There was not a single flicker of fear in the counselor's eyes. All he could see was the same gentle expression shown to the kids back at camp. An unfamiliar feeling came over Jason and, for the first time in years, he felt compelled to help. He raised the machete, his eyes focused on the counselor's trapped leg. His breathing hitched, one part of his mind urging him to kill as Mother instructed, the other begging him to show mercy, just this once. He glanced back at the counselor's face, at that warm smile, and made his choice.

The machete swung down and struck the wood of the log, sending a spray of splinters into the air. The counselor winced, shielding his eyes from the shower, and tried to wiggle his leg loose.

"Still a little stuck," he announced, "I think one more whack on the other side oughta do it."

Jason wrenched the blade out of the wood and swung again on the other side of the counselor's leg. As predicted, the counselor was able to maneuver himself out of the weakened structure. He brushed the splinters and dirt off of his skin and shakily stood up, clearly in some pain from the fall.

"Thank you," he said to Jason, his smile returning, "Really, I would have been in some trouble if you weren't here, so thanks a lot. My name's Lijah."

He extended a hand to Jason to shake, but Jason was too caught off guard by his own response to the situation as well as Lijah's genuine friendliness to return the gesture. Lijah lowered his hand, unfazed by the lack of reaction.

"Not a talker, huh? That's okay," he noted, then became visibly nervous, "Oh, cripes, I'm sorry, are you deaf?"

He made some strange hand movements with that last sentence, gesturing to Jason and to his own ear. Jason shook his head, slowly coming out of his confusion.

"Ah, gotcha," Lijah said, relaxing, "That works for me. I'm not very good at signing."

He laughed at this, and Jason felt a pang of....something. Lijah's laugh was light and pleasant sounding...it reminded Jason of dappled sunlight through trees. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to stay near Lijah for a while longer.

"In all seriousness, what is your name?" Lijah asked, "I'd like to know who my hero is."

Hero. That wasn't a word Jason thought would ever be associated with him, but it felt surprisingly good to hear Lijah call him that. He looked around himself for a moment, then up the slope at the trail. He motioned for Lijah to follow him and made his way up to the flatter part of the forest floor. Lijah had some slight difficulty following him, being so much smaller and having mild injuries, but he made it up the slope all the same. Jason waited until Lijah had caught his breath and stood next to him. He held his machete out to the ground and drew the letters of his name into the dirt. Lijah read the name aloud once he had finished and looked up at Jason brightly.

"Jason!" he chirped with delight, "Like the Argonaut in Greek mythology!"

Jason tilted his head, frowning. His mother had told him many stories as he grew up, but they were all from the Bible. He wasn't familiar with the character Lijah was referencing, and Lijah could see his bewilderment.

"He's a hero in his story," he explained, "well, for the most part. He goes on adventures with his crew and they see and do all kinds of amazing things together."

Jason nodded, liking the sound of this hero with the same name as himself. And the fact that he was not entirely virtuous...that struck a chord with him. He gestured to Lijah, who seemed to understand that he was asking about his name.

"I was originally supposed to be Elijah," he said, emphasizing the 'e' at the beginning, "but my little sister had trouble saying the whole name, so I changed it to just Lijah. By itself, I don't think it means anything special, but it's pretty special to me."

Jason stared at Lijah. How was he so good-natured? Even with an intimidating stranger like Jason, he managed to keep his upbeat attitude and unselfish way of speaking. Was he stupid or genuinely that benevolent?

"Hey, walk with me back to camp," Lijah encouraged, setting off in that direction, "I owe you lunch."

Jason felt a small stab of panic and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and back at Lijah, who nodded.

"You've got somewhere to be - that's fine! Don't worry about it, big guy! But, if you find yourself back this way, come find me at counselor cabin 5 and I'll get you a meal to pay you back for helping me. Thanks again!"

He waved goodbye before turning and walking back towards the camp, the pep in his step dampened only slightly by the soreness in his legs. Jason watched him go and wondered wildly what had just happened. Had he somehow accidentally made a friend?

[myfriendthedictionary]

i to am waiting for the new oxenf-rca (ok that was definitely one of my worst, shhh) game, and in the meantime I would love to hear about any and also all oxenfree ocs. please i would like to know all about them

SORRY FOR THE DELAY. finally getting around to answering asks!!! I hope your doing well!! thank u so much for asking about my silly little ocs cause I would love nothing more than to talk about them frankly. okay. guy who has a whole game in her head vc: I’m normal and this is a normal amount to think about things. I do have art for them but I’m on mobile rn and don’t have it saved, so ill fix it later!

anyway, for lack of a better title i refer to this as everfree. just with my name. it kinda works tho! and in my head it exists and it’s also connected to my friends oxenfree ocs which also make me lose my mind. himi doesn’t have a tumblr that im aware of, but she said i could talk about them also :] here’s an unofficial rundown of the characters. if more people are interested i can post their art and stuff later !!

suzume (she/her): the player character/protagonist. suzume tsurumaki is a girl just back from her first semester at college when she returns to her childhood home, her friends, and her long-time boyfriend, Avery. Suzume struggles to fit in to a place that once felt so comfortable and deals with trying to figure out what she wants out of life versus what everyone else has always wanted for her. Throughout the game, players can build, alter, or break off the relationship with Avery and her other friends, depending on their choices. (The divorce of it all ahskdhdks)

avery (he/they): suzume’s long time boyfriend and the boy next door who, unlike suzume, stayed in town after high school graduation. passionate but often distractible and unsure of himself, avery tends to grip on tightly to what he has in a world that seems uncertain. They care deeply about Suzume, but struggle to adjust to long-distance after so many years of being only a few houses apart.

micha (they/she): suzume and avery’s friend and self-designated “relationship counselor”, Micha is always ready to answer any question… even the ones no one actually asked them. Outspoken and proud, Micha considers themselves an expert on all things, despite not exactly having any evidence to back most of her claims up. Still, despite their eagerness, they have good intentions.

luna (she/her): micha’s twelve-year-old sister, who they’re “stuck with” babysitting on the island while their parents are both working the night shift. like many children, luna believes she’s 1. more knowledgeable than pretty much anyone ever and 2. certainly more knowledgeable than her older sibling, thank you very much! luna tends to be curious to the point of vaguely uncomfortable, and is an avid fan of warrior cats (as she will bring up constantly on the island).

raine (they/them): raine makes out the last of the group! pessimistic and sulky, raine acted as the vice-president for avery’s astronomy club in high school (in which both of them were the only two members) and has been “stuck with” the group since sophomore year. they have a tendency to make things worse, both on purpose and accidentally, by always assuming the worst case scenario. In high school, raine was the kind of person who’d prefer to shove themselves in the locker “before anyone else had the chance”, whether anyone was ever planning on it or not.

[basiccortez]

Defenseless Ch. 1

Synopsis: CJ Jackson, looks like she has it all. Fancy car, fancy house, name  brand clothing. Her parents, top boosters to Beverly, with money to make all sorts of situations go away. As well as the Jackson family looks put together, past secrets haunt them. With the new transfer student catching the eye of CJ Jackson, can old friendships be fixed. Or are somethings just meant to stay broken. "I told you, as long as I live, no one would know."

word count: 3.4k 

pairing: Jordan Baker x OC (CJ Jackson) 

warnings: cursing, talk of death, talk of drug addiction, talk of a juvenile being in trouble, high school boys being high school boys 

It was like a heavy cement blocks were tied to her feet. She moved slowly towards the front doors of the place that reminded her of a prison, but with nicely dressed inmates. People passed by her, and just ignored her presence, something she wasn't used to at all. She was used to people flocking to her sides, begging for a party invite, or to be in her next photo shoot, or to be the next guy on her list, or just one dinner with anyone of her brothers. But now, she was blended into the background, like she never existed.

Somehow, she made her way to the front office, just in time for the first bell to ring. It was her first day back, and already half way through the first semester. She had just been released only a week prior to this bright and early Monday morning. Her brown boxbraids were tied back and out of her face. Her makeup was done to perfection, and her clothes; nicely pressed and matched well. She'd rather be dead than look a mess for her first day back.

"Christine Joy Jackson, I'm here to pick up my schedule." She spoke softly to the secretary. The secretary with bright red cat-eye glasses nodded, and pulled out a file, handing a pink piece of paper to CJ.

"You are to meet with Mrs. Riley first, before heading to your classes." The secretary nodded and CJ rolled her eyes, "Welcome back CJ."

"Thank you," CJ sighed and headed down to the office of her favorite person.

CJ made her way down to the east end of the school, where she was too familiar with being in the In-School suspension office. She knocked on the brown wooden door that was covered in papers for recovery centers, planned parenthood, adoption counselors, and local community colleges.

"Come in!" The voice from the other side called out. CJ took a deep breath before opening the door, and seeing Mrs. Riley behind the door. Her dark brown hair was curled and her skin looked flawless. That woman looked like she didn't age a day, but she also meant business, "My favorite parolee, CJ Jackson."

"Mrs. Riley," The teen girl sassed, setting her bag down in the chair next to her, and plopping her body in a chair, "Instructed to see you first."

"Yeah, just some parole stuff," Mrs. Riley said, grabbing a folder out of her desk, and setting in front of CJ. The folder was dauntingly big and felt like it could start a fire at any moment, "As you know, I am your parole officer, lucky for you or not. But know that I don't play around about any of this."

"This ain't my first go around with you."

"Ain't is not a word, now speak like your momma raised you." Mrs. Riley said and CJ rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, "You are on parole for approximately 90 days, as a term of early release from your juvenile detention program. Terms of your parole include, attendance of school is mandatory, unless an absence notice from a doctor. You must check in with your parole officer everyday at 8 AM sharp, and do not be late. You will pass all administered drug tests, and random drug tests can be done as well. Another term of parole is being involved in not only in community service, but as well as a school activity. Your parents have suggested the dance team."

"Over my dead body." CJ laughed loudly.

"Christine Joy, these are the terms unless you would like to serve out the rest of the 90 days in a juvenile detention center." Mrs. Riley said, giving CJ one of her famous glares. A glare that felt like getting the fear of God put in you.

"No ma'am." CJ answered quickly.

"Good, you have till the end of this week to find a school activity. The community service project will be decided for you. Now you'll sign some stuff and be on your way." Mrs. Riley said smiling and handing CJ some papers for her to sign.

CJ's shoes clicked down the corridor as she made her way to her first class, anatomy. The teacher had already started teaching when, CJ opened the door. Eyes fell to her, and immediately the whispers started. The girl swallowed thickly and handed her note to her teacher. She quickly scanned the classroom for an open seat, and found one next to an unknown face.

"All right, listen up, I want you all to do a search on chromosomal DNA and make a slide on how it connects with last week's work on protein." The teacher said. Everyone automatically opened up their laptops sitting in front of them. CJ grabbed her's out her bag and set it in front of her too. The new kid looked around, uneasy about what he was supposed to do. He didn't have a laptop of his own to use, he usually shared one with his mother and younger brother.

"Spencer, right?" The teacher asked, coming over to him. He lifted his head and looked at the teacher, nodding.

"Yes ma'am."

"It's okay if you don't have a computer. Just pair up with a classmate for now."

"Okay, thank you." Spencer said and CJ looked up at him. Spencer tried looking at the boy next to him, who just moved his computer closer to himself.

"Hey, Todd. Keep watching that Logan Paul feed." CJ said to him.

"Whatever, CJ." Todd said and Spencer looked up at the light-skinned girl.

"Uh. . . you can share with me." CJ said lightly, and Spencer nodded. He moved his stuff over to where she was sitting.

"Thank you," Spencer said.

"I'll warn you, my chromosomal DNA knowledge is non-existent at best. And it's also my first day in this class."

"I might be able to help with that." Spencer laughed lightly and CJ moved her laptop in between the two of them. The two of them worked on their assignment, occasionally having to ask the teacher about what some of it meant, since it was both of their first days in the new class. CJ felt like eyes were watching her, and she turned around and noticed an old friend in class. CJ turned back to her assignment and kept her head down, not wanting to draw anymore attention.

When the bell rang, CJ offered to show Spencer to where the cafeteria is. Spencer was thankful that someone besides his new football coach wanted to show him around. CJ was just thankful to have found someone new at the school who hadn't known of her reputation.

"Salad bar, coffee cart." CJ said pointing at various locations in their center quad, "They used to serve sushi on Fridays, not sure if they still do."

"Sushi on Friday? At Crenshaw, we get sushi on Monday, that's all." Spencer joked and CJ laughed.

"Smart, and funny. I'm impressed." CJ said turning to him. But Spencer paused, and his eyes went to a beautiful tall, light skinned girl. CJ shifted uncomfortably as the girl made her way into the quad. Of course Spencer noticed her, she was beautiful and by far the most popular girl in Beverly. A spot that CJ once claimed.

"Layla Keating, Beverly Hills resident sweetheart." CJ said to Spencer, "Dad's some big-time record producer. And I heard they spend every Thanksgiving with the Obamas. And rumor has it, she even smoked pot with Malia last year."

"You must be Spencer," a familiar voice said from behind them. CJ turned and saw the star football player, Jordan Baker walk over to the pair, "Jordan Baker, QB, team captian."

"Baker?" Spencer asked, "Oh so you must be-"

"Yeah, coach is my dad. I'll take it from here, CJ." Jordan said and CJ nodded walking away from the two football players, "Come on, let me introduce you to the team."

"Hey, thanks for the tour." Spencer said before CJ could get too far away from him. She smiled at the Crenshaw boy, and looked down at her shoes.

"Yeah," She said quietly.

"Sushi on Friday?" Spencer asked, and CJ nodded.

"It's a date!" CJ agreed. Spencer looked the Jackson girl up and down before heading off behind Jordan. CJ cringed at the words that she said, before going off to find a table to herself, away from the stares and rumors about herself. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No, I saw her. Like with my eyes. CJ Jackson is back at Beverly." Asher Adams said to the group of friends as they ate lunch.

"I thought she had like a whole year left?" Hadley said, as she picked at her salad in her lap.

"Daddy's money can get you out of anything." Lucy said giggling, "Bold of her to come back after the shit show she created with everything."

"She's lucky she didn't get more time. Heard Mrs. Baker showed up at the trial and basically bailed her ass out. She was gonna get at least 15 to life," Asher said, embellishing the story a little bit.

"Now that's excessive." JJ said and Asher rolled his eyes.

"She's basically a murderer!" Asher exclaimed.

"No one even knows what she did exactly, maybe she was supposed to get out this early any way." Layla said, trying to defend her close friend.

"So. . . did she have an ankle bracelet? A tear drop tattoo?" JJ joked causing Asher, Lucy and Hadley to laugh. Layla rolled her eyes and picked at her food, as Jordan walked up to the group with handsome young man she had seen earlier.

"Meet the crew," Jordan said as he pointed out different members of the friend group, "This is Hadley, Layla, and up top, Lucy, JJ and Asher." Each of them shook Spencer's hand and Jordan took a seat next to his girlfriend Hadley. He greeted her with a kiss, and took his backpack off.

"I think you and Asher play the same position." JJ said as Spencer took a seat next to Layla.

"What's up, man?" Asher said trying to seem welcoming.

"Oh, receiver, huh?" Spencer asked him.

"Yeah, broke the school record for receptions last year." He said boasting about the accomplishment.

"Me, too." Spencer said and Asher just nodded his head, not saying a word.

"So, how are you liking Beverly so far?" Layla asked Spencer.

"It's okay, I guess." Spencer said smiling up at the girl. Asher looked between the new receiver and his girl questioningly, not liking how nice she was being to him.

"I know it probably feels like lost footage or rich kids from Instagram, but it's not so bad once you give it a chance." Layla said honestly, her browns eyes drifting across the quad to where CJ sat, alone and with a book in her hand.

"I'm sure it'll grow on me." Spencer responded.

"So lay it on me," Asher said breaking up the conversation between them, "Crips or Bloods?"

"Excuse me?" Spencer asked him. Hadley  looked questioningly at Jordan and then at Asher, who continued talking, digging himself an even bigger grave.

"I'm dying to check out a Crip walk for real." Asher said putting his arm around Layla, "I've only seen one on YouTube."

"Yo, yo, he's just joking man. Ignore him," Jordan said trying to fix Asher's mistake.

"Asher, you wouldn't know a Crip walk if it bit you in the damn white ass." JJ joked, causing everyone to laugh but Spencer, who was feeling offended by his new teammate.

"Nah, that didn't sound like a joke to me, bro." Spencer said looking at Jordan. The group grew quiet and looked at each other as Asher tried to defend himself.

"Don't be so sensitive."

"Sensitive?" Spencer asked, standing up angrily. All the groups eyes were on Spencer as he grabbed his backpack and pulled it over his shoulder, "Hey, yo, thanks for the welcome." He said as he walked away from the group. His brown eyes scanned the quad, and found a familiar face sitting alone, reading a book. Spencer sat down across from CJ, startling her out of the reading trance that she was in.

"Sorry for scaring you." He said genuinely.

"No, thanks for scaring me. Too entranced into the world of The Field Party series to even notice anything." CJ said, setting her book down. Spencer reached across the table and picked up the book, reading the back of it.

"A small southern town filled with cute boys, pickup trucks, Friday Night football games, and crazy parties to stir up some major drama," Spencer said reading the back of the book out loud, "Can't get enough drama at high school, you need to read about it?"

"It's different to read about it than to live it. Besides, if my parents didn't land here after my dad's retirement, I could've grown up, going to these crazy field parties in so called, Lawton Alabama."

"It makes sense now, Chris Jackson the 3rd, your dad. . ."

"Receiver for the Chiefs, before retiring in 2015, that's the one." CJ said, "And now coach for the LA chargers."

"Wow, that's crazy. I wanted to play under him if he was at Bama, but-"

"Hey!" Layla said, sitting down next to Spencer, "Christine,"

"Layla. I'll see you around, Spencer." CJ said, gathering her stuff and moving tables. Part of her agreement to herself to get better, was not hanging around her old group. CJ still had an hour left for lunch, and went to the only place where she felt welcome in this school.

CJ knocked on the door and waited for the welcome in. The door opened and CJ held up her brown paper lunch sack and had a shy smile on her face, "Can i eat here?" She asked.

"You're always welcome in here, CJ." Mrs. Riley said, and shut the door behind her. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a long pep talk to get CJ to even walk into the girls locker room, and to the dance coach's office. It was an even longer one to get her to open the door and talk to the coach. The coaches and teachers had known about the terms of CJ's parole, and knew that they had to give her a fair chance at trying out for the team.

"Alright, let's see what you can do. You'll learn the dance, and then me, and the other coach, and the captain will give you a mock tryout, and see how you do," The coach, Mrs. Williams said to CJ, "Go get changed, Hadley will give you a uniform."

Hadley stood outside the door, and walked CJ to an open locker. She handed CJ a new uniform and waited for her to change.

"Hey listen,. . ." Hadley started but CJ slammed her locker shut and looked at Hadley, "How are you?"

"How am I?"CJ said looking at the girl who was once her friend, "That's all you have to say to me, after what I went through?"

"CJ, listen, I'm so sorry for what. . ."

"It wasn't your fault, now let me go to practice, since I have to prove to everyone I still deserve to be on a team that I helped build up from literally nothing." CJ said and pushed passed Hadley to the gym. The girl sighed, and could at least tell her friend group that she tried to talk to her.

CJ tied her box braids back, and stretched on the floor with the rest of the team. The girls would stare at her and whisper occasionally, but CJ tried her best to ignore it. Hadley sat down across form where CJ was stretching and faced her. She began stretching too, and CJ just looked at her.

"What are you doing?" CJ asked her.

"Stretching with my captain." She answered and touched her toes with her arms out straight.

"I'm not the captain anymore." CJ shrugged and pulled her legs into the butterfly stretch.

"Well, you and I both know you can out dance Emily Pierce any day."

"She's the captain, oh my god who let that happen?" CJ said and wrinkled her face in disgust.

"Well after your mom stepped down as the head coach, Mrs. Williams took over. Hence why EP is the captain."

"Alright ladies!" Emily Pierce's voice rang out over the gym. CJ groaned and stood up, fixing the black spandex on her body, "We are going to run through Countdown and then learn the new dance. So places!" Everyone moved to their places except CJ, who stood in the back, "Oh CJ, you can um. . . stand next to Hadley."

CJ nodded and stood next to Hadley in the front. When the music started, CJ remembered the dance from the year before. She started moving in the familiar moves that she knew, and obviously caught the eye of the captain who stopped the music almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" Emily asked her.

"My dance, this is my dance."

"Not anymore, this is my dance. I changed things after you up and got yourself arrested. Now stand in the back and follow the group." Emily said and CJ nodded her head and moved to the back.

For the rest of the rehearsal, CJ was quiet and stood in the back, following the moves the Emily was teaching the group, even though she hated every second of it. When practice was dismissed, she was the first in the locker room, taking her uniform off and shoving it into her dance bag. She slammed her locker shut and stormed out of the locker room, running straight into a hard, muscular body.

"Hey, watch-" "I'm so sorry." They both said at the same time. CJ looked up at Jordan Baker, the one person she didn't want to see.

"CJ, you good?" Jordan asked. He could see the red lining of her eyes and nose, as she was about ready to cry.

"Ignore me like you have been the whole day, Baker. I'm fine." CJ said and pushed away from Jordan. She was thankful that her father was waiting at the front of the school. CJ ran down the steps and into her brother who was waiting for her. He engulfed her in a tight hug, and ran his through her hair as she cried. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night, at the Baker household, Jordan walked up to his mom, who was unloading groceries into the fridge. He hadn't ever asked his mother about why she took CJ's case, even after everything she had done to his family. But now, that CJ was back at Beverly and constantly running into things in his life. Hadley had said that she seemed civil at dance practice, but Jordan didn't trust whatever CJ was trying to do.

"Hey, Mom." Jordan said.

"Yes, hun?" Laura said and closed the fridge.

"Why did you take CJ Jackson's case?" He asked.

Laura paused a minute and sighed, "I can't discus that with you. Why? What's going on? She try and contact you or Olivia again?"

"No, even worse, She's back at Beverly. Rumors are going around that she got released early."

"And they let her back at Beverly, after all the things she had done?" Laura asked surprised, "Guess money really does get you things."

"Mom," Jordan said somewhat defending his ex-friend, "You know that's not true. Hadley said that she's trying to get her spot back on the dance team, and that she seemed to change."

"Listen to me Jordan, girls like that, who strive off of their parents success and money, don't change. I. . . I defended CJ Jackson because her parents asked me too." Laura said honestly, "CJ didn't want a lawyer or attorney. She plead guilty and was ready for her charge. If you ask me, she should've gotten those 15 years. She is and was guilty for that boy's death, there' no doubt in my mind."

Jordan looked down at his shoes and didn't say anymore. He turned on his heel and walked back up to his room. He hated the feeling that was settled in his chest. He so much wanted to fight against what his mother was saying about CJ. Jordan was one of the only friends in his group to believe CJ. He was also the only Baker who believed her too.

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 7/?

May I? - 7/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ spacetailor

It had been two weeks since Data and Faith had found the unknown handprint. A sweep of the tubes was done but no other prints were found. However, there had been reports of other consoles around the station that had been tampered with. He and Faith continued to add them to their map, trying to find a connection. They had not been successful.

Faith's mood continued to fluctuate from day-to-day. There were times when she closed herself off or began breathing heavily, unable to speak without stuttering or tripping over her words. Most of the time she worked through it alone and if she could not, Data assisted by repeating her own instructions back to her. She did not ask him to. He did so on his own after a particularly difficult episode.

While the captain was frustrated with the lack of answers, he allowed Data and Faith to work at their own pace. So far nothing of great value had been taken. No one had gotten hurt or actually seen anyone on the ship who was not supposed to be there.

On a personal level, Data and Faith only interacted during their joint shifts but he found himself looking forward to those times. His Bridge duties had been reduced so he could focus on the assignment, which meant he spent most of his day with Faith. While he was able to witness some of the behavior Geordi had previously mentioned, it seemed to happen less and less. Certain days she was quieter than others but other than that, her work was improving even if her mood was not.

Data made his way to Counselor Troi's office for their weekly appointment. He greatly enjoyed their sessions and appreciated her insights. Now more than ever.

Deanna was already sitting down when he entered. She smiled. "Hello, Data. How are you doing today?"

"I am functioning at—" He paused, correcting himself. "I am well, Counselor." He took a seat.

"Anything new you wish to talk about?"

She started every session this way, knowing Data came prepared with numerous questions on various topics. This time, however, his thoughts were more focused.

"There is a recent development I wish to discuss," he said. 

"Tell me about it."

"It is about my friendship with Faith."

He did not miss the way her mouth twitched into a smirk. "Oh? I understand you two have been spending a lot of time together. I'm surprised you haven't brought her up before."

"I wanted time to process an interaction she and I had two weeks ago," Data explained. 

"So what's troubling you?"

"After I paid her a compliment, she seemed embarrassed and even though she gave me permission to continue, she still reacts this way each time I do so. She explained it was because she does not receive them that often. I find that difficult to believe."

"That one can be embarrassed by compliments?"

"No, that she does not receive them."

Deanna's smirk widened. "Why is that?"

"From what I have witnessed, she has a lot of positive qualities. Her intelligence exceeds many of her peers, she has shown great dedication in our joint assignment as well as a meticulous work ethic. She often considers my 'feelings' though I already explained to her that I do not have any. She is also one of the only people to not interrupt my 'babbling', as Captain Picard puts it. And if she does, she apologizes."

"It sounds like you admire her a great deal," Deanna said. 

"I believe I do."

"And it makes you confused that others don't?"

"Well...yes, I suppose it does." Data studied Deanna, looking puzzled. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Data, if I didn't know any better, I would say you have a small crush on her."

"A crush?" He scanned his knowledge base for the definition. "Ah. A crush: an intense infatuation for someone. A secret burning desire to be with someone who you find attractive or special. A person you cannot get off your mind."

Deanna let him process, watching in amusement just as she had during his interactions with Faith.

"Huh...fascinating," he declared. "I have never had a crush before. How do I know that is what this is? Is it even something I am capable of? There are many questions."

"Well, you have had relationships with women before," Deanna said. "How does this compare to those?"

"I have had two romantic entanglements in my lifetime," Data explained. "Only one of those was intimate in nature."

"And?"

"And, with Tasha, it was a one-time experience brought on by a mind-altering virus. The other…" He thought of his relationship with Jenna. "...did not end well."

"I see," Deanna said. "However, if I remember correctly, you were pursued in both those cases. You have not pursued a romantic relationship on your own."

"I have not found the need to," Data explained. "And I do not know if that is what I would like to do with Faith."

"Understandable. Not all crushes are romantic in nature. What would you like to do?"

Data thought about her question, trying to determine the correct answer. "I want to spend more time with her," he declared. "Outside of our duties, I mean."

"That's a start," Deanna said. "Have you tried?"

"I have offered. However, she had yet to take advantage. I do not wish to push her."

"And that is all you can do at this time," Deanna said. "Let her know you are there for her and comfort her if she seeks it. Knowing you are there can make a difference, even if she doesn't take you up on your offer right away."

"Occasionally, she does seek my comfort during her anxiety episodes. Usually when she cannot handle them herself."

"That is a very personal thing to share with someone," Deanna told him. "You must mean something to her as well if she is comfortable being so vulnerable in front of you."

Data processed what the counselor said. While he followed her reasoning, he was still stuck on the notion that he might have "a crush". "If I understand the word correctly, would a crush not require feelings? Could this be another instance of me feeling emotion for the first time?"

"It's possible," Deanna said. "When you felt what you perceived to be anger, it came about suddenly and organically."

"That is correct. It was during my fight with the Borg that I was overcome with an intense sensation that I could not control. The only way I can describe it was being angry."

"And afterward, when you were trying to elicit an emotional response from yourself, it didn't work, correct?"

"Also correct. I subjected myself to many forms of stimuli but achieved no results."

"We discussed that the difference between the two was the organic nature of the first emotion. Perhaps that's what's happening here. There was something that drew you to Faith and it happened organically. You didn't seek her out and she did not seek you out. You were drawn together by circumstance and connected on a level you've never connected with someone before."

Even with his superior brainpower, what the counselor said was difficult for Data to wrap his head around. He was used to cause and effect, of being able to track the sequence of events which led to each individual moment and reaction.

"I find this all very confusing," he admitted.

Deanna smiled. "Welcome to being human. Most emotions are."

The idea of feeling as other humans feel made Data smile, though he was still trying to work out how to handle what was happening. 

"Should I tell her?" he inquired. 

"That is entirely at your discretion," Deanna said. "I can't make that decision for you."

"I understand, Counselor. But I would appreciate the advice."

Deanna sighed, leaning back in her seat. "If you are as unsure about the sensation as you claim, perhaps you shouldn't tell her quite yet. Wait until you've spent more time with her and then see if the feelings persist. If they do, then perhaps share them."

Data nodded in understanding. "What if she does not reciprocate?"

"Then you know where your relationship stands."

The counselor's words echoed in his mind for the rest of the day. He pondered how to proceed, eventually deciding to take her advice and keep the information to himself. His reasoning was that if he was wrong, he could potentially ruin a new friendship that was dear to him. He could not take that risk. 

Data arrived at Engineering and made for the assistant's office. It had been repurposed for Data and Faith so they could have a central location to continue their investigation.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see Faith was not in her usual seat. He sought out Geordi for answers.

"She said she wasn't feeling well," Geordi explained when Data asked. "You two have been working 'round the clock so I gave her the next two days off."

"Strange. She did not tell me she was feeling ill."

Geordi smiled. "You two have become pretty close, huh?"

"Yes, we have." Data turned to leave. "I will go check on her."

Data heard Geordi chuckle as he walked away. "You do that, buddy."

Faith did not answer the door when Data rang. He waited exactly ten seconds before ringing it again. It was not until the third time that he heard a soft voice say, "Come in."

Data entered Faith's quarters for the first time. Everything was in disarray. Clothes and dishes were strewn around the room. The lights were dim and at first Data did not see her until he stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Data? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice thick and gravely.

She was curled in bed, buried under a mound of blankets except for her head. Her eyes were red and there were tear stains on her cheeks, which alarmed him.

"Geordi said you were not feeling well. I came to check on you."

"That's very sweet but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He crossed into the room and knelt by the side of the bed. "Are you alright? It looks like you have been crying."

"No...no, I haven't." She swiped her cheek with her hand to brush away the marks. "I'm just sick."

"Would you like me to get Dr. Crusher?"

"That's not necessary."

"Do you know what illness you have? I am sure it can be cured easily."

"It can't." At Data's look of concern, Faith forced herself to sit up, her wavy hair swirling around her head like a dark cloud. "Data, do you know what depression is?"

"Depression: feelings of severe despondency and dejection. A mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest," Data recited. He put the pieces together. "I see. So you have depression?"

"Yes."

"My files state that it is treatable. Are your treatments not working?"

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"You are receiving treatment, correct?"

Faith's hesitation answered his question before she spoke. "I am beginning to. I have started seeing Counselor Troi on a regular basis." She left the statement there.

Data was not satisfied. "There is also medication that helps treatment."

"Yes. That's true."

"From your expression, I gather you do not wish to use the medication."

"Dr. Crusher gave me some but I haven't started using it yet."

"Why?"

Faith sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It's complicated, Data. It's not an easy decision to make."

"That is the second time you have used that word to describe this situation. Please explain."

Faith pursed her lips but did not speak. Data waited in sixty seconds of silence before sitting on the edge of her bed. He was patient and in no rush to be anywhere. If she needed time to answer him properly, he was willing to give it.

"Going on depression medication...is a big decision," Faith explained slowly. "It's admitting there is something about yourself that is out of your control. It's taking the chance that you may need to be on that medication for the rest of your life."

"But if it helps you feel better, why does that matter?"

"Some people get used to the sadness, Data. They... I don't know who I am without it."

The gravity of her words was not lost on him. He had seen a lot of illness in his time, mental and physical. As much as medicine had advanced, there were still some ailments that could not be eradicated. The brain may have been mapped, but some of its functions were still out of anyone's hands.

Data reached over and placed his hand on Faith's. It was an action he had witnessed many times when his fellow shipmates wanted to comfort each other. 

"You are smart, kind, dedicated, and a good friend," he said. "That is who you are."

"I would say you're just saying that to be nice but I think I've gotten to know you better than that."

"I am saying it because I believe it to be true. That is what I see."

Faith gave him a sad smile. "I wish I could see myself the way you see me."

Data was struck by an idea and got to his feet. "Come with me."

"What? Why?"

"I have something I would like to show you."

"I don't want to get up."

"It will be good for you to move."

"I don't know, Data. I'm a mess. I don't exactly want the others to see me like this."

"Then get dressed and meet me in my quarters when you are ready." He headed for the door, eager to put his plan into motion.

"But wait, Data, why?"

He paused and turned around to face her. "So I can show you how I see you." Before she could protest further, he left.

It took her thirty-two minutes to do as he instructed. When she arrived, she had showered and dressed in fresh clothes, her wet hair draped over her shoulder in a long braid.

"You're lucky I like you," she said grumpily as she entered his quarters. "Now, what did you want...to...show me."

Data had taken the time to put a selection of his paintings on display. They were propped up on every feasible surface of the room, arranged strategically so. 

The most recent were first, showing various depictions of their time together: her with her head bent over the console, biting her lip in thought as she studied the map, her taking apart one of the replicators with parts spread out on the floor, her staring off into space deep in thought…

And there were others less specific in nature and more abstract. Dark ropes of space and stars woven together in a single braid like the one she wore. A collection of flowers arranged to form the side profile of her face…

When she reached the first painting he did of her, her eyes in the vines, she stopped. 

Data watched her face and the myriad of emotions that danced across it. 

"Data…" she said in a soft voice that barely broke a whisper. "Are these all me? "

"You wanted to see yourself how I see you," he said. "This is how I see you."

She looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the painting. She approached it, reaching out to gently touch the edge of the canvas.

"Do I really look that sad?" she asked.

Data came to stand by her side. "Have I offended you?"

"What? Oh, no! Not at all," she said. "I'm flattered. Beyond flattered. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I had no idea…" She trailed off, looking around at his paintings before returning her gaze to him.

She looked at him with such wonder and amazement he could not believe he was the focus of such a gaze. She put her arms up and took a step forward but then stopped herself.

"Do you mind if I hug you?" she asked. 

"No, I do not mind." He opened his arms stiffly.

Faith smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. Data returned the hug as best he could. She was shorter than him, causing his nose to burrow into her hair. Her shampoo smelled pleasant.

They remained that way for fifteen seconds before she regrettably pulled away.

"I didn't know you paint," Faith said. "Do you have others? I mean, in general. Not about me specifically. I'd love to see more of your work."

"Certainly," Data said with a smile. "I would be honored to show you."

He shared with Faith the rest of his paintings, from his very first to the ones he completed prior to meeting Faith. Her reactions to them were fascinating to watch. The same intense study techniques she showcased during her work applied to viewing art as well.

"These are stunning, Data," she said hours later. She sat on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate clutched in her hands.

Data sat down next to her. "Thank you, Faith. Your opinion is most appreciated."

"Have you ever thought about doing an art show?"

Data cocked his head in thought. "It had not occurred to me. Do you think others will be interested in seeing my work?" 

"Absolutely. Your imagery is…" She struggled to find the right word. "...a peek into your soul, your thoughts. It's fascinating."

"Because I am an android?"

Faith waved her hand. "Bah! It has nothing to do with that. Most people may be able to picture images in their head, but very few of them can actually replicate it. You've not only managed to do that, but also given it so much substance."

Data was overwhelmed. "No one has ever described my creative endeavors as having substance."

"You do something else besides paint?"

Data nodded. "I play the violin and have tried writing poetry."

"Tried?"

"It has not been...successful."

"I was never good at poetry either," Faith said. "I'd love to hear you play the violin at some point."

"There is a recital next week. I would be honored if you attended."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Her eyes drooped and she stifled a yawn.

"You are tired. You should go to bed."

"Not yet. It feels good to be out of my quarters and I enjoy spending time with you."

"I enjoy spending time with you as well," Data said. He noticed she had finished her hot chocolate and took the mug from her hands to dispose of it.

"I'm sorry we didn't get any work done today," she said. "I know the captain is anxious for some kind of results."

"On the contrary, I have been running diagnostics and analyses this entire time," Data told her.

"Convenient and handy. Find out anything interesting?"

Data accessed the information while he began putting his paintings away. 

"I have been analyzing the items that have been reported missing and organizing them into categories. Among the most significant are power chips, wires, a replicator module, and scraps of parasteel. However, I was curious and began to construct a second list of non-mechanical objects that have been reported lost or missing. There has been an unusual increase in blanket replication, several crew members reported clothing misplaced or gone altogether, and even one person lost their uniform shoes. From this, I can deduce that whatever life form that is evading our detection is collecting items for survival…"

He turned to look at Faith, only to find her fast asleep. If Data were human he might have taken it personally. He approached her cautiously, hand reaching out for her shoulder to wake her. But the peaceful look on her face stopped him.

Instead, he gently gathered her into his arms. She instinctively curled against his chest, letting out a small content sigh. Data held her for a moment, studying how the worry lines of her face were gone while she slept. A strange sensation settled in his abdomen and he had the sudden urge to protect her at all costs.

Data carried her over to his bed, laying her down before tucking the blankets around her. 

Spot appeared from the shadows where she had taken refuge when a new person arrived. Now she sniffed Faith curiously before giving Data a look of doubt.

"Be nice, Spot," Data ordered, pointing a finger at the feline. "She is very special to me."

Spot swatted at Data's finger, making him tut in disappointment. He put her on the floor. 

"Computer, dim lights."

The lights in his quarters lowered and Data returned to the couch. Now was as good a time as any to turn on his dream program. He laid himself out, staring up at the ceiling. Spot jumped up onto his chest, turning in a circle before lying down and curling herself into a ball. She began to purr as Data scratched her ears.

Data's thoughts were consumed by Faith and her compliments. He began to understand her reaction when he first complimented her. Data himself was used to admiration on his skills, particularly his computing, strength, knowledge, and other aspects of his android nature. 

He was not used to compliments on his creativity. Quite the opposite. Perhaps he would display his work in an art show. Perhaps Faith would help.

He cast one last look at her, smiling when he saw her still fast asleep. Then he closed his eyes and succumbed to his dreams.

[ravens-lil-nest]

 PJato OC:  Atsa Sandoval

Daughter of Hecate

Born November 1,1997

Scorpio

Was born on the night of a New Moon

As of the Trials of Apollo she is 18 and working to finish her GED

Demigod Quirks and Perks: 

Like many demigods, she is both Dyslexic and has ADHD. 

As a child of Hecate, Atsa can perform magic. She can also manipulate the mist, see spirits and ghosts, and has an innate ability to always know where she is going. Canines also take a liking to her and sometimes it seems like she is talking with them.

Atsa has trained many years in the mystical arts and considers herself as one of the best. able to teleport, open cross-roads and entrances to other dimensions, and even summon creatures to fight along side her. She is currently pursuing necromancy and studying what could be considered herbology. 

Her part of the cabin is filled to the roof with books and scrolls that she is almost always reading when she isn’t hangout with friends or training. March often questions if she even sleeps.

Her magic is strongest during the new moon, half moon, and full moon.

While fighting, Atsa prefers to duel wield with a dagger and sword. She is dirty fighter, never one for honor but always fighting to survive. She isn’t afraid to run and knows when it is time for a tactical advancement backwards (AKA retreat).

Atsa can be very intense and focused once she sets out on a task, always feeling as though she must prove herself to someone. However, her passion towards life is almost magnetic, drawing people to her. She is a bit of a mother bear, protective and loyal, willing to fight to the bitter end for those she cares about.

She is a thrill seeker, a major adrenaline junkie. Atsa loves fighting and and the thrill of adventure. Nothing really scares her and she can stare down hell hounds without even flinching. Don’t even bother telling her “No” because she will go do it anyway.

Atsa can be a bit vengeful if anyone betrays her, holding grudges for years to come. She still has yet to forgive most of her siblings after the Second Titan War, or at least the ones that survived. Those that died she secretly wishes the demise in the underworld. 

She can be very brash and hotheaded as well but over the years she has considerably mellowed out. She will only snap and bite after pulling an all nighter to try and perfect some new spell. 

She strives to the best of her siblings and even mother.

Atsa’s story begins when she was born, daughter of Hastiin and Hecate. Hastiin, her father, kept and raised her as a single parents on a small ranch on the Navajo reservation near Tuba City, Arizona. They lived alone, as Hastiin’s family basically disowned him after finding out he had a child out of wedlock and no less with someone that wasn’t Native American.

Already knowing that his daughter would have to fight the world just to gain an inch of respect while growing up, Hastiin decided it was best not to tell Atsa what his mother really was. When ever she asked questions he would simply say that she was a horrible woman who just left him with nothing but her…the greatest gift in the world (He is a very sappy man).

From the moment that Atsa started school, she would constantly get into fights with other kids. They often mocked her appearances, saying how she wasn’t really Native and other horrible things against her and her father. Many of the kids were just kids, but others were monsters in disguise waiting for the prefect moment to strike because man could baby Atsa punch. 

It was the beginning of a new year, in a new school when Atsa had already recieved a Saturday detention and in-school suspension for fighting…again. Middle-school was rough and mean! Hastiin sat his daughter down while patching up what battle wounds she sustained, telling her that she couldn’t keep doing this and that if she is caught fighting one more time she will be expelled and won’t be able to get a good education. Atsa didn’t quite understand the whole education thing but she hated disappointing her father even more. So, she did. 

For the next week, Atsa was the prefect student, or at least as perfect as she could be. She always had trouble focusing on stuff she didn’t care about especially when she couldn’t read more the many three words on the bored. She even attended in-school suspension without of fuss…and that’s when the monsters planned their attack. 

Atsa was in her school’s library where two other kids who were also in in-school suspension sat. She had to write an essay explaining what she did wrong and why wouldn’t do it again. The other two kids were the ones that she last fought, having called her a series of bad names like freak, and half-blood. However, what drew the line was them calling her father a word she wouldn’t dare repeat (at least not at eleven). She tried to ignore them, but she heard them get out of their chairs, walking up behind her. Atsa told them that she didn’t want to fight and when no words were said back, she turned to look only to have a giant snake to bite into her arm. 

To this day, Atsa doesn’t speak of how the Drakon was defeated or how she even got out of there alive. All she will ever tell is how her father had saved her and had patched her up like always….and final told her of the world that her mother was from. 

Atsa was furious with her father. They always promised each other that no secrets would even be held between them and he betrayed her! Hastiin tried to explain himself, but before he could even get a world out. Atsa ran to her room, locking herself inside. She pretended to sob, only to convince her father to just leave her alone for the night. However, Hastiin would discover by morning that his daughter ran away in the middle of the night, taking one of the horses from the ranch. She didn’t even leave a note which is something Atsa regrets to this day. 

Atsa was on her own for many months, riding towards the north-east parts of the USA. She didn’t know what drove her there, but something inside her told that this was where she would find out who she really was. Somewhere between Lousiana and Virginia, Atsa was found by a group of older demi-gods that were on their own quest to retrieve the hand mirror of Aphrodite. 

She stuck with them till the end of their quest, even coming in handy from time to time as she was much smaller then each of them. They were Grant, son of Aphrodite, Tera, daughter of Demeter, and Xavier, son of Ares. These three were Atsa’s only friends and family once they arrived in Camp Half-Blood.

Atsa fully thrusted herself into the life of a demigod. She trained as hard as she could each day, praying to the gods in hopes that she would find out who was her mother, and ignoring anyone in a position of authority especially after the first year, when her only friends had to leave the camp and enter the real world as adults. She often argued with counselors and Chiron, never listening and wanting to figure out her own path. After all if her own father lied to her, then whose to say that they won’t do the same. However, things changed once a skinny string bean entered her life.

The summer just before her 13th birthday was a crazy one, not only did a kid of the big three turn up, but March Porter entered Atsa’s life. Chiron thought it would be good for Atsa to teach March the ropes of camp and be his “camp buddy” for the summer. At first, she was a definite a-hole, however, that never dampened Mr. Sunshine’s mood. It didn’t help any that March was claimed within his first week at camp, while Atsa had been waiting for almost two years now.

March was and still is probably one of the kindest, sweetest people Atsa has ever meet. The first summer changed her life, March brought light into the dark cesspool that was Atsa’s life. It took a while for him to crack through her secured fortress walls, but once he did he never let her build them back up. March is the reason why Atsa is the woman she is today. He was the first person she really opened up to and vice versa. They know each others demons more then they know their own.

Atsa and March grew very close that first summer of camp, but some days she was jealous of March and his family. From the outside it seemed perfect, unlike her own, but by the end of summer she was finally claimed. However, it wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it was. She was still stuck in Hermes cabin because Hecate didn’t even have one! Not to mention that most of her siblings who were suppose to love and protect her like March’s instead judged her for the fact that she didn’t know a lick of magic. Since the first day she arrived at Camp she focused purely on fighting, hoping that Athena was maybe her mom but nope she was stuck with Hecate, who later did turn out to be the bitch that her father said she was. 

For the next five years, Atsa hit the books and tried to learn everything that she possibly could about magic. It took a lot of time, but eventually she started to get a hang out it, proving to her siblings that she was a real daughter of Hecate and not some fake. However, that didn’t much matter by the end of summer before her 15th birthday (The Battle of the Labryith). Almost all of her siblings had official joined Kronos’ along side Hecate. 

As her magic grew, Atsa’s left eye changed color from brown to grew. Whenever she is performing magic it glows.

Atsa was conflicted with this news, and for the first time in her life she didn’t know where she was going to go. She confided in March, who was very honest with her as he too was dealing with those he was very close with going to the side of Kronos ( *cough* Jasper *cough*) 

He told her simply that no matter what she choose, in his eyes she was already amazing. He knew that she wanted to prove herself to her mother and siblings, but he insisted that the only person that she needed to prove herself to was herself.

Atsa, thanks to the guidance of March, stays on the side of the Olympians and Camp Half-blood and fights in the Battle of Manhattan, nearly dying. She faced of many of her siblings including Alabaster. 

After an argument with March, Atsa took a small group of demigods with her to scout the battle grounds for any survivors. They were ambushed by Alabaster, who was controlling a group of manticore. During the fight, he mocked her, saying how stupid she always had been and how weak she was. 

The demi-gods with her were killed quickly, but Alabaster had the manticore simply pierce Atsa with a poisonous barb. Atsa laid there, slowly dying, thinking about everything that led up to that moment. She had so much regret and when it seemed like she was fading into darkness, light suddenly entered her life once more. March came after her once she wasn’t back in time and fought for the first time in his whole life to bring her back safe and sound.

After the war, Atsa returned home for the first time in six years. For that whole time, she had not once spoke with her father and when Hastiin saw her again he honestly though she was some ghost that was there to haunt him. There was tones of tears and I won’t go much further cause I do want to write the reunion out properly.

(Will add Heroes of Olympus stuff later after I brush up on those books again)

In the present day (around the time of the Trials of Apollo), Atsa is working on gaining her GED as she never finished proper schooling. She lives her father pretty much full time now, helping on the Ranch which has now been slightly refurbished to include the raising of Pegasus and to be a dog sanctuary as many dogs are often left out in the middle of the desert. 

Atsa looks to complete some online college courses for business as she wants to really help out her small community, finally wanting to put some good into the world. Her first projects are the florist that has been going out of business and to create her own adoption service for the dogs she is taking care of on the ranch with is named Spirits Ranch.

At the current moment, Hastiin and Atsa are carrying for about fourteen dogs, two of which are almost always at her side. Atsa often brings all the dogs to camp as a nice destressor for the campers and she also wants to start a program there to provide support animals to campers that need it. Some campers are pretty sure there is more then just dogs with her.

Pepper is the newest addition to the family and he is extremely timid and afraid of any human beside Atsa. They don’t know exactly what he is and Atsa wants to find maybe another Demigod who wants to take her in as a support animal.

And then there is Luna who both Hastiin and Atsa are pretty sure is some kind of supernatural wolf. She just showed up on Atsa’s first birthday after the War and has been around ever since. Luna acts very aloof most of the time, but at night, she curls up right by Atsa making sure she is okay, especially if she has night terrors. Some campers and even March bet that she is a hell hound, but Hastiin thinks that Luna is a gift from Hecate…some sort of apology after everything that she has done to her daughter. Atsa doesn’t care either way, just happy that Luna is now in her life. Luna also seemly changes sizes given her mood. She also sleeps like all the time it seems like.

At around 20, Atsa leaves for about a year just to travel the world. She mostly does it by hitchhiking and catching rides with strangers, but occasionally she uses her magic. During this time she often visits her friends, and still does all around the world. 

[itsjustwhatfeelsrightmobile]

Rules

HEAD’S UP:

To all of my “loyal followers”: I know you may feel familiar with my rules, but please skim them on every blog you follow. In particular, you will need to scroll down and read everything below the “Guilt-Free Icons” section as they change for each blog. Everything else, yes, will stay the same. Thank you for your time and thank you for following so many of my blogs!

LAST RULE UPDATE: July 16, 2018

Mun

General

My name is Kymani, but most people call me “Kaichu”, “Kai”, or “Ky”. Go with whichever you like! Please note, however, that I will only sign my blogs and asks with "Ky" or the occasional "Kaichu" so as not to be confused with the many 'Kai' users in the world. So if you ever see someone claim to be me while using that spelling... they a lie, fam.

I use she/her pronouns and am a cis female so feel free to correct me if I make any -phobic booboos.

Mun is over 25. I’m happy to share my real age, but not so much to update this with every birthday.

My discord is (not very) selectively available to mutuals. If you choose not to exchange this with me, this is more than fine; please just be aware that I blog hop very inconsistently so I may be hard to reach.

Mun faceclaims are Raichu, Marina (Splatoon 2), Iridessa, and occasionally Kagome Higurashi.

You can find links to all of my other active characters on my mun page.

Health

I have several physical and mental disabilities. These include, but are not limited to, Sickle Cell Anemia, Asthma, Depression, Anxiety, and moderate OCD.

Note that there are some things that will trigger my OCD and therefore I will often choose not to follow you for or unfollow for. They include but are not limited to: uncut posts; icons that aren’t circles or squares (circles/squares with excessive decoration is FINE); using full-sized reaction images; and/or a general lack of organization on the blog. Most of these can be addressed, but I will never pressure a mun to change their style or format for me. 

I will generally make or have someone make update posts informing you of my hospitalizations. Sometimes I forget, though. In any case, if I’ve made it clear that I am feeling unwell, do NOT hassle me for replies or an explanation of my situation. I will block people for this.

Be aware: I am a chronically ill person with many characters whose writing schedule is dictated by both her health and muse. I will forget things and disappear/reappear for weeks to even a month at a time from my blogs. As well, I may be very obviously selective/biased, so if this will upset you, my blogs are not for you.

Also note: it is not uncommon for me to unfollow and refollow people but this is not intentional. As I manage tens of blogs, it is easy to forget which blog people will follow me on. If you notice me doing this, feel free to message me and/or block that account.

Lastly, it is incredibly important to understand that due to the fact that I have been on opioids since I was a child, I have impaired memory. I can and will forget things we’ve discussed/written and I just ask for your patience and understanding on this.

I am open to answering questions regarding my health, but I expect you to both know the basics about the diseases and have read THIS PAGE before you approach me.

Last on this point but HUGELY important: please do not approach me with questions or jokes about how many muses I write. It's officially at the point where it's only okay or funny if I do it. Cause the thing is I know you mean it as a complement. I know you do. But the answer, for the record, to that question is this: "The cold hard fact is that I'm no longer healthy enough to attend school or work. So I am at home all day every day with the time (if I am well) to run as many muses as I please and it may be the only thing keeping me sane." So please, just don't make the joke. I'll joke along with you, I'll try not to make you as sad as you just made me, but it makes me really sad to think about and I have to stop pretending it doesn't.

Personals

Do:

Go ahead and follow! I don’t mind as long as you follow the rules. (Breaking them consistently enough to notice will lead to a block though.)

Like RPs if you like them. (But try to make sure my partner’s okay with that, too!)

Send in memes and questions; just don’t expect them to turn into a thread or anything.

Tell me if you’re following on behalf of a side RP blog cause I won’t check/know otherwise! (Only matters if you follow first.)

Don’t:

Reblog my promos.

Reblog my OOC posts.

Reblog my roleplays.

Following

This is a selective and private blog. This means I don’t follow everyone and I only RP with mutuals.

Please do not message me asking for an RP if we are not mutuals. I understand that you’re just reaching out, but it really makes me anxious and I will feel extremely guilty. Therefore, all messages of this kind will be deleted. Repeated attempts will lead to a block.

I will not follow blogs without a rules page. Very very rare exceptions are made for blogs that I know for fact are mobile-only. I am slightly more lenient when it comes to about pages, but only if there is significant writing on the blog for me to read through instead.

I am OC and selectively crossover friendly. 

I’m cool with multimuse blogs as long as your muses each have an about page for me to read over. I won’t be making exceptions here simply because I find it impractical to go through the blog and look for writing for each specific muse I want to interact with.

I may several weeks to follow back. This may be due to illness or just not noticing because of how many blogs I run.

I eventually unfollow mutual-only blogs who have not followed me back. This is simply because I like to know I can RP with those on my dash and nothing more.

I do not follow blogs that exclusively use real-life faceclaims (rlfc). I will also not RP with rlfc, so if you have a verse that only uses a rlfc, I won’t RP with it. Please note that this applies to people roleplaying live-action characters, as well. Thanks for understanding.

Interaction & Replies

I am EXTREMELY selective about roleplaying with muns under the age of eighteen. Trying to deceive me about your age will lead to a BLOCK.

I am open to using messaging for OOC interaction at all times. IC interactions must be agreed upon beforehand.

All of my open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only unless otherwise stated. Repeated offenses for non-mutuals liking my starter calls will lead to a block.

I go through my thread tracker whenever my total thread count across all accounts exceeds 11O. I will try to message my partners about threads I drop but understand that I may not always have the energy to do so. You are always welcome to ask about the status of our threads so long as you remain polite and tactful.

Shipping

My blogs will always be multiship.

With that said, I’m almost always a ship-exclusive kind of girl. That means I’ll ship with one version of each character.

I like my ships to develop naturally, so even if it seems like I prioritize friends, know that you can always shoot me an ask and as long as it’s not a notp I’m always open to tossing the characters at each other and giving it a shot.

There are two exceptions to ship exclusivity for me: 1) i’ve decided to do one ship per verse and therefore duplicates are fine or 2) i’m playing a character with a canon ship.

Tags & Triggers

My blogs are never spoiler-free.��For TV-show based blogs, the most recent episode aired in its native language will be tagged as a spoiler until the next episode airs. For games, I tag and try to readmore spoilers for a few months. Threads themselves may or may not be tagged if the line is sort of blurry. Always, therefore, read with caution.

I am blocking the tag #Ky Don’t Look/#Ky Dont Look for phobias related to penises, water, and a few other things. It is imperative that you read over my BLOCKED TAGS AND TRIGGERS for full details.

These triggers are often related to trauma and can give me panic attacks and/or depressive episodes. I will gently remind you a few times, but if it becomes a repeated issue, I will unfollow.

If you need anything special tagged or I’ve forgotten something, please let me know! I won’t bite.

NSFW & Smut

Many of my blogs will contain nsfw themes including but not limited to: themes of depression, violence, bullying, etc. These are rarely (if ever) tagged but can be by request.

Themes that are considered to be “trigger-heavy” will always have their own disclaimer.

Regarding smut: sometimes it’s difficult for me, sometimes it’s not. I can be extremely squeamish regarding the topic, so I’m very fickle when it comes to these threads. I ask, very simply, that partners who engage in these types of threads with me understand that I likely won’t finish these threads and that they do not push for replies on these. (Like, ever.) It will make me more self-conscious and, if I’m already panicking about a reply, it will only make it worse.

With that said, I would appreciate it if you didn’t baby me by disallowing me to write these threads. If it makes you personally uncomfortable to write them with me, that’s fine. But it has been deemed a safe and valuable practice by my counselor for me to continue to explore this subject so that, hopefully, I will become more and more comfortable with it. So when I’m interested in writing sexual nsfw, please don’t feel as though you need to shy away from me!

Aside from all of that, general rules apply: I won’t write sexual nsfw with anyone under the age of eighteen. (Although with that said, given my age, I tend to prefer my smut partners to be twenty-one and older. This is a soft rule, though, as my comfort with the partner outweighs a numerical value.) I also will not write any other kind of nsfw with anyone under the age of sixteen.

PS: when it comes to aged up characters, aged up x aged up is okay. aged up x canon adult is not. I am not the kind of person who will get all judgemental if you do it with other people, but I won’t personally engage in it. Understand though that I only consider it to be aging-up if the mun is aging their character beyond the natural progression of time. (So if Character A was 10 when they debuted but would have been 15 by the time they met Character B anyway I don't consider it to be aging-up.) For more of my opinion of the topic, please click here.

 Activism & “Drama”

In this house, discussion about x-isms, x-phobias, and injustices as it relates to the roleplay community and/or the pokemon community is NOT considered drama and therefore it will NOT be tagged as such. HOWEVER:

While most of my blogs will NOT have a tag for it at all, should it come up, I will create an #activism tag for the blog. So yes, you will have a tag to block if you are genuinely discomforted by the conversation, but no, I will not conflate it with “drama”.

If you’re reading this on writtenbykaichu or a blog that features a dark-skinned person of color, please be aware that issues such as these are much more likely to be discussed. 

Guilt-Free Icons

Yes, I am a mod at guiltfreeicons–Jerry Mod, to be exact. 

I will, on very rare occasions, make posts regarding taking requests. Those posts are considered active for 48 hours after the ORIGINAL post was made.

If you need to ask a question about GFI, first read the rules. Then, try contacting us here. If that doesn’t work, contact us here. Most importantly:

Never ever I mean NEVER message me or any of the other mods regarding guiltfreeicons (or making icons for you on the side) on any of our personal or roleplay blogs. We WILL auto-block over this.

Miscellaneous

IMPORTANT: I am currently beta testing for rpthreadtracker.com. Because the beta website could be altered or lost at any time, I will try to backup my threads on the current version of the website. With that said, I will be focusing on using the Beta versions, so please click the [BETA] links first and alert me immediately if they give you any sort of trouble so I can update the trackermod. Thanks guys!

This blog will not RP with male gemsonas--no exceptions.

As a general rule, I am okay with gemlings as long as they are not directly related to Amethyst (daughter, sister, etc.)

I consider Amethyst's canon character development to be incredibly rushed, so on this blog you may feel as though I've knocked her back a few steps. This is so that I may work on her development at a fairer pace. (And yes, if you know me, it is also for the angst.)

Always always always plot out fight threads with me. We don't have to come up with things step-by-step ahead of time, but I expect to stay in contact with you throughout so that we can be on the same terms with where we're going and who's doing what.

Credits

Many of my Raichu base icons were gifted to me by thunderstonereject. If you would like access to these icons, you will need to ask them for their permission. Any public-use icons I have can be found at guiltfreeicons. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

All Marina icons were made by me and are available to the public on guiltfreeicons. Edits, of course, are for and by me and not for public use.

All Iridessa icons were made by myself and Pebbles Mod and are available to the public on guiltfreeicons. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

Credits for Kagome Higurashi base icons can be found here. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

Amethyst Art & Icon credits can be found here.

back to navi

[abandonedbyheaven]

Welcome to Lawrence High School;

“Welcome to Lawrence High School, home of the Angels! Our school has just over a thousand diverse students with many interests, including baseball, football, track, and swimming. We offer many special classes to help our students better prepare for their futures and have a staff full of experienced teachers that strive for academic excellence with our students. Enjoy your years here; they’re the best of your life!”

The Plot;

LHS may seem like any other typical Kansas high school, but officials suspect that there might be something funny in the water. In the past six months alone, there have been a record high number of murders, mostly around the full moon, and strange animal behavior, such as cattle mutilations and lightning storms on sunny, rainless days.

This may or may not be due to the fact that several of LHS’s students are ‘sleeping’ monsters. Yes, monsters. Walking the halls of the school are demons, werewolves, vampires, nephilim, reapers, and even more creatures of lore, believe it or not. While most of no students know what they are, some do, and that’s why there have been so many strange happenings around town lately.

Some students have formed secret groups in order to help each other out with the stress of being a monster and a high school student while others could really care less. A few of the groups have also attempted to help their fellow creatures in figuring out exactly what’s going on with them in order to help get their school off of the government’s radar.

As the school year progresses and other human students figure out the secrets of their fellow classmates, will they want to help or hurt them? Only time will tell.

The Administration;

Zachariah Adler; The Principal

Naomi Bryce; The Secretary

Abaddon Knight; The Assistant Principal

Pamela Barnes; The Guidance Counselor

Ellen Harvelle; School Nurse

Ed Zeddmore; Audio/Video and Theatre Teacher/ Electrician

Harry Spangler; Assistant Technician and Teacher’s Aid.

Bobby Singer; The Science and Mechanics Teacher

Lucifer Anderson; The Music Teacher and Band Director

Michael Anderson; The Football Coach and Foreign Language Teacher

Missouri Moseley; The History Teacher

Alastair Cross; The Mathematics Teacher and Disciplinary Actions Guide

Chuck Shurley; The English Teacher and Arts Teacher, on occasion.

Crowley McLeod; The Business and Economics Teacher.

Gabriel Norse; Home Economics Teacher.

Charlie Bradbury; Technology Teacher

Metatron Scribes; Librarian

The Students; (**=Mod)

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel Novak - (x)

Balthazar Novak

Anna Milton

**Meghan ‘Meg’ Masters - (x)

Ruby Andrews

**Jo Harvelle - (x) 

Garth Fitzgerald

Kevin Tran

Lisa Braeden

Jessica Moore

Lilith ‘Lily’ Claire

Benjamin ‘Benny” Lafitte - (x)

Becky Rosen

Adam Milligan

Amelia Richardson (Awaiting BIO)

The Rules;

ABSOLUTELY NO OOC DRAMA. IC DRAMA IS FINE, BUT IF SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE OOC, TELL A MOD. THAT IS WHAT WE ARE HERE FOR.

If you want a second character, please wait a few days after joining. Make sure you enjoy the group.

THERE WILL BE TRIGGERING MATERIAL AT SOME POINT OR ANOTHER. WE WILL DO OUR BEST TO WARN YOU, BUT WE CANNOT GUARANTEE THAT THERE WILL BE NONE.

This is primarily a Supernatural AU verse. The MODS are in the Supernatural fandom. We’re open to other fandoms as well, so do not let that be a reason not to come join this au.

Face claims are negotiable for all characters whose younger selves were not featured on the show, such as Garth, Jo, etc. **DEAN WILL BE CONSIDERED FOR A FACE CHANGE.**

All Bio links on your OWN ACCOUNTS should be submitted to be added to a masterlist. If you’re creating a sideblog, please let that be noted as well.

OCs will be accepted, but we will also need a short personality description, to keep away from Mary Sues. 

Other canon characters than the ones listed may be played in this verse. Just come speak to a MOD and we’ll get you all sorted; trust us, One of them is hella forgetful.

Be sure to track the ‘*lhs au’ tag for updates.

We will not be accepting Mirrors if the PERSON YOU ARE ASKING FOR DOES NOT AGREE. (i.e no two Jo’s or two Dean’s. Jimmy Novak is a different story, and you should speak to Castiel about it.)

Bio’s are to be discussed if being changed after initial creation.

If the bio pertains to another member, please be sure to ask them if they are alright with the change and info before submitting your application to us.

PLEASE NOTE NOTHING IS SET IN STONE RELATIONSHIP WISE.

Clicking the x by a character will link you to their blog and their own bio.

If you’re going to be gone for more than 7 consecutive days let a MOD KNOW. If not, we may reopen your character.

The Application;

Name of Character;

Age;

Species;

Grade or Position;

Face Claim (If student);

Bio (3-5 sentences);

Personality (For OC’s);

Possible ships (NOTHING IN THIS VERSE IS SET, WE ARE JUST CURIOUS TO KNOW WHO YOU SEE YOUR CHARACTER WITH IF ANYONE.);

SUBMIT YOUR APPLICATIONS HERE OR HERE or Make a post and tag them! We’ll message those who decide to make a post.

[blookmallow]

ey whats up im reworking some stuff about soul collectors again. this is just an infodump bc i want to get it out somewhere. read if ur interested i guess. subject to change

every living soul is assigned to a soul collector

most people don’t know about soul collectors at all 

Antis generally at least have heard of them, even if they haven’t met one or don’t entirely believe in them - but it’s very rare for a human to even know about their existence at all. in some cases a soul collector might appear to someone in a dream or a vision, or may become involved in their lives as a kind of protector without revealing what they really are (shuri is a close friend and guardian to her souls; they are aware she is non-human and magical in nature but most of them don’t know what she really is. some soul collectors might appear in more subtle ways) 

but among those who do know, it’s said that the people assigned to one soul collector or another always have some kind of connection to them in varying degrees. this is often less true of Antis - an Anti is always opposite to their Origin, and always has the same soul collector as their Origin, so this is not always accurate to them (but it can be, sometimes, in other unexpected ways. it’s in there, somewhere.)

for instance: those assigned to Rachna (”a Child of Rachna”) will often be adventurous and fearless to the point of recklessness; self-endangering, but unusually lucky (often due to Rachna themself intervening to protect their souls when it is not their time). A Child of Rachna may have very high potential - for good or for evil - very strongly prone to magic, and likely to live a long life despite often dangerous lifestyles. 

(Canon Rachna souls: Johnny Steel, Lex Calamity) 

--

a Child of Kadri often will have startlingly bright, gem-like eyes (though not always) and strong tendency for magic as well, but are known for very poor luck and high probability of shorter lifespans and particularly violent and/or sudden deaths - probably due to Kadri’s neglect toward her souls and lack of personal care. Very headstrong and persistent. May often have vicious tendencies and die young. 

(Canon Kadri souls: Cherri Flintwitch, Laelia Thorne, Crow Hackett, and Milzi.) 

--

a Child of Kalidasa will typically be an outcast; a lonely, solitary personality who is prone to poor health and/or mental illness. This is not a curse; Kalidasa is known for their love and compassion toward those suffering from illness or cruelty, and is therefore drawn to those souls most. (in other words- it’s more “Kalidasa is the most likely to protect you if you are suffering, because they relate and understand and love you” not “if you’re one of Kalidasa’s, you’re cursed to suffering”) Kalidasa’s souls often struggle with language and communication, but have the ability to see things others cannot (attention to detail, ability to see ghosts, visions of the future, premonitions, etc) 

(Canon Kalidasa souls: Roach. I’m considering Kalidasa having accepted Cyril and Malkin’s souls from Kadri, as Kadri is negligent anyway and those two are more suited to Kalidasa than they are to Kadri.) 

(It is also likely Nezu is a Kalidasa soul too, but due to certain...complications surrounding his parents, I’m not totally sure) 

-- 

a Child of Shuri will often be kind-hearted and project an air of serenity. They are long-suffering and selfless, patient to a fault, frequently tending to be protectors of various kinds (parents, especially adoptive parents, teachers, doctors, etc). They also tend to be especially fond of/naturally protective of children. 

(Canon Shuri souls: Dreyden Blazer, Skye Blue and his family, Seriki Gokyo, Jinx, and, oddly... Damian Nightfall.) 

note about Damian and Jinx: Jinx is no longer the person she once was. Whoever she was when she met Damian died long ago. But she does what she can to protect the few people she can when an opportunity presents itself, and she is incredibly long-suffering. Damian, being an Anti, is violently different from kindly preschool teacher Skye Blue, but - although he would viciously deny it - he does still have some of those same traits in him, somewhere. He is known for helping and protecting other Antis in need at times (though often with selfish motives), and he does occasionally display a level of patience... but more the patience of a snake waiting for a chance to strike than anything else. 

Damian also rarely harms children, though he claims this is because he can’t stand their shrill voices and finds it unsatisfying to kill something that was already defenseless. 

--

A Child of Christopher will often be meticulous and cautious, though occasionally wildly unpredictable when their emotions run high. They have strong hearts for all people and a powerful sense of justice, and cannot stand for cruelty. They often will be advocates, protestors, and leaders. 

(Canon Chris souls: Gavin, and Kayzee. kayzee missed out on the ‘caution’ thing, though.) 

-- 

A Child of Celina will often be very artistic and theatrical, wildly expressive (when given the chance) and nostalgic. They tend to be fair and compassionate, and are often mediators, counselors, artists, and teachers. 

(Canon Celina souls: January)  

--

A Child of Venus is nearly always arrogant and short-tempered. They will often have very expensive tastes, and have a strong, impossible-to-ignore presence. Often make great performers, and throw the best parties - but are frequently tactless and rarely make close interpersonal connections. 

(Canon Venus souls: Iris. Undecided otherwise, just a lot of ‘maybe’s. Clive and Mary are both ‘maybes’ - but Clive doesn’t really have the flamboyance and confidence, Mary doesn’t have the selfishness.) 

--

A Child of The Great Mother could be anyone; she is known to accept any and all souls. But hers tend to be kind, warm, humble and compassionate, with strong connections to nature and music. They are often people of few words, but big hearts. 

( Canon Mother’s Souls: Bee, Dan Macarthy, Katie Clark, and, surprisingly - Sage. Her Origin is a definite Mother’s Child, and as Sage is an Anti, it can be harder to see it in her- but that doesn’t mean it isn’t in there.) 

-- 

bonus: other-universe OCs, If Soul Collectors Exist In That World 

- Angela is a definite child of Celina. Niko and Manu are probably Kalidasa or Kadri, though Manu could very well be Rachna’s. Jasper is probably a Venus. Coleman would be Shuri or Chris. 

- Zack is likely Rachna, Kadri, or Kalidasa - most likely Kadri’s, taken in by Rachna, to explain the multitude of reasons he’s lucky to still be alive. Carmella is likely Mother’s, or Shuri. 

[ofdragondrumsmobile]

Rules

HEAD’S UP:

To all of my “loyal followers”: I know you may feel familiar with my rules, but please skim them on every blog you follow. In particular, you will need to scroll down and read everything below the “Guilt-Free Icons” section as they change for each blog. Everything else, yes, will stay the same. Thank you for your time and thank you for following so many of my blogs!

To those of you who are new, thank you for taking the time for stopping by. I know--I know these rules are long, but I've had them tested by many friends to ensure that they are all necessary. There is no password, so please take your time and I'll see you on the other side!

LAST RULE UPDATE: December 09, 2018

Mun

General

My name is Kymani, but most people call me “Kaichu”, “Kai”, or “Ky”. Go with whichever you like! Please note, however, that I will only sign my blogs and asks with "Ky" or the occasional "Kaichu" so as not to be confused with the many 'Kai' users in the world. So if you ever see someone claim to be me while using that spelling... they a lie, fam.

I use she/her pronouns and am a cis female so feel free to correct me if I make any -phobic booboos.

Mun is over 25. I’m happy to share my real age, but not so much to update this with every birthday.

My discord is (not very) selectively available to mutuals. If you choose not to exchange this with me, this is more than fine; please just be aware that I blog hop very inconsistently so I may be hard to reach.

Mun faceclaims are Raichu, Marina (Splatoon 2), Iridessa, and occasionally Kagome Higurashi or Jerry Mouse.

You can find links to all of my other active characters on my mun page.

Health

I have several physical and mental disabilities. These include, but are not limited to, Sickle Cell Anemia, Asthma, Depression, Anxiety, and moderate OCD.

Note that there are some things that will trigger my OCD and therefore I will often choose not to follow you for or unfollow for. They include but are not limited to: uncut posts; icons that aren’t circles or squares (circles/squares with excessive decoration are FINE); using full-sized reaction images; and/or a general lack of organization on the blog. Most of these can be addressed, but I will never pressure a mun to change their style or format for me.

I will generally make or have someone make update posts informing you of my hospitalizations. Sometimes I forget, though. In any case, if I’ve made it clear that I am feeling unwell, do NOT hassle me for replies or an explanation of my situation. I will block people for this.

Be aware: I am a chronically ill person with many, many characters whose writing schedule is dictated by both her health and muse. I will forget things and disappear/reappear for weeks to even a month at a time from my blogs. As well, I may be very obviously selective/biased, so if this will upset you, my blogs are not for you.

Also note: it is not uncommon for me to unfollow and refollow people but this is not intentional. As I manage tens of blogs, it is easy to forget which blog people will follow me on. If you notice me doing this, feel free to message me and/or block that account.

Also, it is incredibly important to understand that due to the fact that I have been on opioids since I was a child, I have impaired memory. I can and will forget things we’ve discussed/written and I just ask for your patience and understanding on this.

I am open to answering questions regarding my health, but I expect you to both know the basics about the diseases and have read THIS PAGE before you approach me.

Last on this point but HUGELY important: please do not approach me with questions or jokes about how many muses I write. It's officially at the point where it's only okay or funny if I do it. Cause the thing is I know you mean it as a complement. I know you do. But the answer, for the record, to that question is this: "The cold hard fact is that I'm no longer healthy enough to attend school or work. So I am at home all day every day with the time (if I am well) to run as many muses as I please and it may be the only thing keeping me sane." So please, just don't make the joke. I'll joke along with you, I'll try not to make you as sad as you just made me, but it makes me really sad to think about and I have to stop pretending it doesn't.

Personals

Do:

Go ahead and follow! I don’t mind as long as you follow the rules. (Breaking them consistently enough to notice will lead to a block though.)

Like RPs if you like them. (But try to make sure my partner’s okay with that, too!)

Send in memes and questions; just don’t expect them to turn into a thread or anything.

Tell me if you’re following on behalf of a side RP blog cause I won’t check/know otherwise! (Only matters if you follow first.)

Don’t:

Reblog my promos.

Reblog my OOC posts.

Reblog my roleplays.

Following

This is a selective and private blog. This means I don’t follow everyone and I only RP with mutuals.

Please do not message me asking for an RP if we are not mutuals. I understand that you’re just reaching out, but it really makes me anxious and I will feel extremely guilty. Therefore, all messages of this kind will be deleted. Repeated attempts will lead to a block.

I will not follow blogs without a rules page. Very rare exceptions are made for blogs that I know for fact are mobile-only. I am slightly more lenient when it comes to about pages, but only if there is significant writing on the blog for me to read through instead.

I am OC and selectively crossover friendly.

I’m cool with multimuse blogs as long as your muses each have an about page for me to read over. I won’t be making exceptions here (unless i already know the writer) simply because I find it impractical to go through the blog and look for writing for each specific muse I want to interact with.

I may several weeks to follow back. This may be due to illness or just not noticing because of how many blogs I run.

I eventually unfollow mutual-only blogs who have not followed me back. This is simply because I like to know I can RP with those on my dash and nothing more.

I do not follow blogs that exclusively use real-life faceclaims (rlfcs). I will also not RP with rlfcs, so if you have a verse that only uses a rlfc, I won’t RP with it. Please note that this applies to people roleplaying live-action characters, as well. Thanks for understanding.

Interaction & Replies

I am EXTREMELY selective about roleplaying with muns under the age of eighteen. Trying to deceive me about your age will lead to a BLOCK.

I am open to using messaging for OOC interaction at all times. IC interactions must be agreed upon beforehand.

All of my open starters and starter calls are for mutuals only unless otherwise stated. Repeated offenses for non-mutuals liking my starter calls will lead to a block.

I go through my thread tracker periodically and try to keep my total thread count (across all accounts) under 11O. I will try to message my partners about threads I drop but understand that I may not always have the energy to do so. You are always welcome to ask about the status of our threads so long as you remain polite and tactful.

Shipping

My blogs will always be multiship.

With that said, I’m on some occasions a ship-exclusive kind of girl. That means I’ll ship with one version of each character. I will always announce if this is going to be the case.

I like my ships to develop naturally, so even if it seems like I prioritize friends, know that you can always shoot me an ask and as long as it’s not a notp I’m always open to tossing the characters at each other and giving it a shot.

Tags & Triggers

My blogs are never spoiler-free. For TV-show based blogs, the most recent episode aired in its native language will be tagged as a spoiler until the next episode airs. For games, I tag and try to readmore spoilers for a few months. Threads themselves may or may not be tagged if the line is sort of blurry. Always, therefore, read with caution.

I am blocking the tag #Ky Don’t Look/#Ky Dont Look for phobias related to penises, water, and a few other things. It is imperative that you read over my BLOCKED TAGS AND TRIGGERS for full details.

These triggers are often related to trauma and can give me panic attacks and/or depressive episodes. I will gently remind you a few times, but if it becomes a repeated issue, I will unfollow.

If you need anything special tagged or I’ve forgotten something, please let me know! I won’t bite.

NSFW & Smut

Many of my blogs will contain nsfw themes including but not limited to: themes of depression, violence, bullying, etc. These are rarely (if ever) tagged but can be by request.

Blogs that are considered to be “trigger-heavy” will always have their own disclaimer.

I will only be writing sexual nsfw on discord with 18+ muns that I am comfortable with.

Regarding smut: sometimes it’s difficult for me, sometimes it’s not. I can be extremely squeamish regarding the topic, so I’m very fickle when it comes to these threads. I ask, very simply, that partners who engage in these types of threads with me understand that it is common for me not to finish these threads and I ask that they do not push for replies on these. (Like, ever.) It will make me more self-conscious and, if I’m already panicking about a reply, it will only make it worse.

With that said, I would appreciate it if you didn’t baby me by disallowing me to write these threads. If it makes you personally uncomfortable to write them with me, that’s fine. But it has been deemed a safe and valuable practice by my counselor for me to continue to explore this subject so that, hopefully, I will become more and more comfortable with it. (And, you'll be comforted to know that I am already seeing progress!) So when I’m interested in writing sexual nsfw, please don’t feel as though you need to shy away from me!

Aside from all of that, general rules apply: I won’t write sexual nsfw with anyone under the age of eighteen. (Although with that said, given my age, I tend to prefer my smut partners to be twenty-one and older. This is a soft rule, though, as my comfort with the partner outweighs a numerical value.) I also will not write any other kind of nsfw with anyone under the age of sixteen.

Activism & “Drama”

In this house, discussion about x-isms, x-phobias, and injustices as it relates to the roleplay community and/or the fandom is NOT considered drama and therefore it will NOT be tagged as such. HOWEVER:

While most of my blogs will NOT have a tag for it at all, should it come up, I will create an #activism tag for the blog. So yes, you will have a tag to block if you are genuinely discomforted by the conversation, but no, I will not conflate it with “drama”.

If you’re reading this on writtenbykaichu or a blog that features a dark-skinned person of color, please be aware that issues such as these are much more likely to be discussed.

Guilt-Free Icons

Yes, I am a mod at guiltfreeicons–Jerry Mod, to be exact.

I will, on very rare occasions, make posts regarding taking requests. Those posts are considered active for 48 hours after the ORIGINAL post was made.

If you need to ask a question about GFI, first read the rules. Then, try contacting us here. If that doesn’t work, contact us here. Most importantly:

Never ever I mean NEVER message me or any of the other mods regarding guiltfreeicons (or making icons for you on the side) on any of our personal or roleplay blogs. We WILL auto-block over this.

Miscellaneous

When it comes to battles, I write with a mix of Anime & Game canon. For that reason, I expect to have full communication with my partners throughout the battle.

I’m always open to writing Gym/Championship Battles, but I’ll only write one or two at a time.

Underestimating my character will just generally lead to a bad time.

Note that there will likely continue to be a lot of Iris and Pokeani related salt on this blog. It’s always tagged, but you have been warned.

Always always always plot out fight threads with me. We don’t have to come up with things step-by-step ahead of time, but I expect to stay in contact with you throughout so that we can be on the same terms with where we’re going and who’s doing what.

Credits

This theme was designed and coded by Kas.

The bulk of my Iris icons are credited to myself and my partners at guiltfreeicons. The rest can be found at: animexiconxdump, aureajuniper, bramblepaw, marshmallows-pokemon-icons, pokecafehouse, pokemoniconhunts, and senbeiedits. 

Credits for Kagome Higurashi icons can be found here. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

Most of my Raichu icons were gifted to me by thunderstonereject. If you would like access to these icons, you will need to ask them for their permission. Any public-use icons I have can be found at guiltfreeicons. All edits were made by me and are for my own personal use.

All Jerry icons were cropped and edited by me for my own personal use.

Verse image credits here.

The artwork on this theme was commissioned by me from nerdinsandals and is for my personal use.

back to navi

RETURN TO MAIN BLOG

[whimsicat]

It’s been a slow day today. After the long and somewhat unpleasant workday yesterday--ten hours for the record--I appreciate the peace today. It’s raining outside. It’s about 9pm as I type this and I have to go for a shift tomorrow from 10am-3pm, which is not bad really. I’m currently addicted to listening to Broadway animatics, particularly Heathers the Musical, and I’m doing okay money-wise and health-wise.

Why is it then that I still feel so sad?

I have this deep, constant sense of feeling lonely. Probably because I am, in truth. I haven’t actually hung out with people my own age in a long, long time, though it’s not as though I’m unpopular or anything at work. It’s like I have a wall up and I can’t seem to fully connect with others. There’s some people I’d be okay with hanging with if they asked, and others that have asked but I’ve declined because I don’t drink alcohol and they usually just want to go drinking--and one girl gave me a strange look when I say I don’t drink, but I’ll go just to talk.

I have friends online, friends that I’ve had for years and years. Some I’ve seen in person, some I haven’t, some I will finally see when I go to a convention in February. That’s exciting. There’s one friend I talk to every day for hours at a time and she’s, unfortunately, also my long-lasting unrequited love.

I don’t really want to say “crush” at this point. i had a “crush” on someone who I’m no longer friends with because we had a falling out, though the conclusion at least was a mutual break off instead of a huge flare of drama. I’ve been in love with this person for around...six years, or so? Most of our friendship, give or take a year.

The problem is, this friend has known of this crush and rejected me around three times over the years. My feelings for them tend to come and go, but it always inevitably returns when my many other crushes in the past get rejected. I’ve written numerous posts on my horrible luck with love so I won’t repeat myself here.

I want to get over her. I do. I want more than anything to get over her. We’re friends first and foremost and have remained friends--unlike with the other person--even when we had a rough patch because of relationship problems and emotional toying. We’re perfectly fine again, now, more or less. It’s not awkward or anything. We’re regularly up to around 3-5am talking. Just...talking.

We both like to write, though she claims I’m the better writer. We make up entire stories and write back and forth to each other, RP’ing our own OCs in grand, elaborate plots. It’s almost always somehow romantic, especially our current magical school storyline. 

Gods, the amount of romance we’ve written. I forget sometimes I don’t know how a kiss or a hug or anything actually feels, that I’m just writing my assumptions on it, or copying how other people describe it. Writing two characters in loving relationships kinda makes my pain feel better, but inevitably it’s like over-indulging in some kind of substance, because my misery as the recollection hits me that I still haven’t had a single person date me before despite multiple efforts, leaves me teary-eyed. Some nights, it’s outright crying.

But the cycle continues.

My friend’s told me before about how she doesn’t think love is for her, or how she wonders if relationships will ever work out for her, after the failure of her last one. 

I want to scream. Make some kind of grand romantic gesture. What are you talking about?! I’ve loved you for years!! Let me show you how much someone loves you!

But she already knows my feelings. And still will not date me, despite being close friends with me. I simply don’t understand it. But I don’t want to sit around trying to change her mind. I just want to get over her then. Get over her so I don’t beat myself up again and again, wondering why I’m not good enough, wondering why my best friend bemoans her relationship luck yet simultaneously won’t even test what it’s like to date me. 

I remember once a while back, I broke down, asking why not? Please, why?

She admitted to not having an answer. 

That’s kind of...worse. It made me feel terrible. Why? She didn’t even know. My best friend doesn’t know why no one wants to date me, including her. I don’t either. So I just sit here second-guessing everything about myself. Looks, personality...something fundamentally broken that no one will ever be able to find. A glitch in the system. A factory error. A malfunction.

My friend’s been out all day today, having an actual life. I’m curled in bed with my laptop wishing I looked different or my voice was cute, or at least that I didn’t laugh like a hyena.

It’s misery like I can’t describe. I’ve written long posts on this subject but no matter how many times I try to put heart to words, nothing properly explains it.

Tonight, I think, I will write a lot on it. Just get it all out. So maybe I’ll repeat myself after all. Maybe something will connect on the off-chance someone reads this, and understands even a little of what I’m going through.

Or perhaps it’s just a way to pass time. Either works.

I suppose you could call me ungrateful for my gift. I love writing, and plots, and everything therein. I like to analyze movies and video games and I smile with excitement when something’s clever and and gleefully mock something when it’s terrible; this makes my older sister complain that I never enjoy anything because I examine it too much, but that’s not true. I enjoy things deeply when they’re good. And I pick apart things I like, even. It’s just what I do. She’s a counselor, so I point out it’s my version of analyzing people all the time, and she actually did acknowledge my point, so that’s something.

Anyway, why am I ungrateful? Because no one cares about writing. My parents sure don’t. They’ve never read a single thing I’ve created, not school assignments, not original work, and of course (I don’t expect them to) not fanfiction. My siblings don’t really read my fanfics and stuff either, though they’re more encouraging and will at least let me talk to them about my stories. My little sister--gods bless her--will talk with me at length about it. 

I’m also a bit jealous of her.

She’s a wonderful, wonderful artist. I’m so happy she’s so talented. I show my friends her stuff when she posts online and I commission her (though she’s baffled as to why I think I should pay her when we’re family) but it’s my way of supporting her. Not only that, but she talks to me about her own ideas, about a web comic she wants to do, and I love her stories. So original and charming.

I wish I had her talent.

No one really wants to read my stories. I’ve sent them to people. My older sister read a few chapters of something but dropped it and never started the second thing. But if I was an artist, all I’d have to do is show someone a picture and they could gush over it. Like when my parents coo over my little sister’s art. But my parents never once read my stuff. They just tell me “you’re going to be a famous author one day” but couldn’t tell anyone what I even like to write.

I’m a good writer. I think this much. I just wish I wasn’t. I wish I could draw as well as I write. I wish when I was younger I decided to pick a pencil up instead of reading books and wanting to write sweeping tales.

What was I thinking.

I never know what my younger self was thinking.

If there was one thing in my life I could change, just one, I would want to wave a magic wand and make myself a social butterfly. Ever since I was bullied in 7th grade, I’ve had a rough time connecting with others. Everything was beautiful my freshman year, but when we moved to another state (again) and I ended up in a tiny country town in Missouri, I became so apathetic and pained from losing everything again--because my father was in the military, we moved every 2-3 years--that I shut down. I finally gave up. And I dropped out of high school, only getting my G.E.D. years later. I have my Associate’s now and I’m going for my Bachelor’s in Sociology, with the intention of doing case-management and other work like that, but...gods. I wish I could go back and make myself social. Create high school memories that don’t suck. I was bullied in tenth grade and I dropped out in eleventh. Tenth grade in particular was horrible.

All of this stays with me. I just wish I could be charming. I’m apparently pretty funny according to my coworkers, but anxiety and depression and suicidal impulses have dogged me all my life. Like now. I’m always worried.

You will never meet someone who likes herself less, and I’ll tell you exactly why that is. As stated before, I’m 22 years old and I can’t get a date. No one has ever held my hand before. Even online, I’ve never had people confess to me. I’ve certainly confessed to other people, several times, but I always get let down.

So look back. I bet, to whomever may be reading this, you have some kind of relationship experience. It may not be the best, but you can look back on the excitement of a first kiss or a first love, when it was beautiful in the early stages; (or, if you’re still dating, now). I don’t have that. I don’t have any positivity associated with the word “love”.

And yet, I crave it desperately. It’s become almost like a mythological concept to me. Love, nirvana, heaven. A destination that I will one day reach if I do something, something, something.

And you know what happens, right?

I look back on every rejection and I crumble a little inside. Why not? What’s wrong with me? The first time, sure, she was out of my league and I knew it. At least she was nice about it. But what about after that...? And after that? How many times will I be rejected? Why not? Why not me? What’s wrong with me? What do I have to change, who do I have to become?

One person confessed to me. They even asked me to date them. My biggest regret in life so far is not saying yes. I was afraid, due to our somewhat complex, differing views on a lot of subjects, that we’d not be good for each other that way, though at the time we were good friends. I was afraid that I’d say yes just to date someone and not out of love, and I thought they deserved someone who loved them wholeheartedly. My friends told me not to date them. They said it’d be nothing but drama because of this particular person’s reputation. In the end all of these conflicting points had me think I probably wasn’t ready to date, and they deserved better, so I said the truth: I don’t think I know what love is, I’m sorry, I need some time. They were extremely nice about it. Understanding.

They’ve since moved on to a new crush. Someone near them. I wish them so much luck. I just wish I had said yes then. That I had given it a try. Because that was about two years ago and no one has ever said I love you since.

Maybe that was it. My one shot. And I missed it. Now I’m sighing and casting longing looks at my best friend and wishing she’d look my way and realize I know her so, so, well, better than anyone, and we could be good. I know we could. 

I just wish I was...something. Cooler. Prettier. I wish sometimes I had a different skin tone, that I was taller or not flat-chested. I never feel like a girl or a boy so I suppose that makes me nonbinary, but I don’t care about gender in the slightest. Hi, hello, I’m pansexual and I just want to like someone for who they are. Boys and girls are cute, and anything else. I can find something cute about anyone.

I wonder if I could be beautiful. If I were beautiful, maybe someone would look my way for once.

What if I let my hair grow out, if I got piercings or put on makeup for once. What if I stopped wearing Zelda shirts and carried name-brand purses, or learned how to walk without looking down or away when I pass people. What if I figured out how to be pretty in the way someone wants?

I wish and I hope that it’s something as simple as my appearance when it comes to my lack of “real-life” romance. Someone will at least look my way if I’m beautiful.

But I know...the problem is just...”me”. Because online, it’s just the same thing. No matter how warm and supportive I am, how much we talk, how much we have in common. I get the same message back, the same gentle voice on a call or video chat: “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

My most hated phrase. I’ve heard it from everyone.

The problem is just “me”. And how can I change that? I’ve tried. For years, I’ve tried. I’ve...given up.

My biggest fear is that I’m going to turn 25 and be out of college or just about, and I still won’t know what it’s like to have someone call me their girlfriend. That I’ll never know what sex feels like, or a kiss, or have someone get all giddy because we’re having a date that night and they’re nervous, and I can see it in their eyes.

The feeling is oppressive. Humbling. Sobering.

I want to be beautiful and wanted. Instead you’ll see me living vicariously, writing romantic fanfiction and (hopefully, if I decide to live that long) adventurous fantasy stories with a dash of romance. Escapism for some poor teen in a miserable high school, trying to find someplace better, just like I did.

I told my friend I think I’m over them because I thought if I wrote it, maybe she’d believe it, but I don’t think she did. I also thought maybe I could convince myself of the fact. We’re going to see each other at the con in February with some friends. The worst part is I don’t know how I’ll be.

I’ll hug her for sure. I just hope I don’t do anything stupid. Life isn’t like a manga. She won’t magically change her feelings because I kissed her or something reckless. I’d more likely ruin the weekend. I entertain silly thoughts, but nothing will happen. I know I can control myself. It’ll be nice just to see her...

I used to wonder if maybe she just didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case we broke up. But then she casually mentioned on a call once about how one of her friends going with us to the con is also an ex. I felt my heart twist at that. So it’s not that. She still has friends who she used to date.

It’s just me.

Again.

She doesn’t want to date me.

I know it sounds so dramatic. I know. But I love her. I love her. I love her more than anyone I’ve ever had feelings for, and I’ve known her for years. She’s not dating now and I’m always lowkey hoping she’ll have an epiphany one day. That she’ll wake up after we talked to 6am again and think about how we laugh at the same things, about our joke where we both say “I was just thinking that!” That maybe she’ll feel something.

But at the same time I’m not. I just want to get over her if she won’t change her mind. I don’t want to be bitter toward her. if she doesn’t love me I can’t say I blame her.

i just want to fall for someone who can give me a reason why she loves me. Who’ll say something instead of “I don’t know” when I ask why?

I want someone to look at me and say, “Angel, you’re beautiful.”

And I want to believe them.