#and I'm trying not to resent anyone I really promise I am

[thornsent]

in case you all are wondering I have been dying and I am so sososososososo tired + vaguely afraid of the future! I'm seeing signs of things to come and going well. there is not a lot I can do to change that. and idk I feel kind of doomed atm in a very specific way

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Little Dove

I'm hoping to make more than one part as I am getting brain rot for Caracalla now as well as Geta. This is just to set up the tension. @byronking as promised

Part two

Life in the Roman court was tedious, surrounded by withered old men talking about politics that would never affect them, having to smile and fetch them some wine whenever they asked.

Your father started bringing you into court a few moons ago, he told you it was to satisfy your thirst for knowledge, yet after the first few meetings where all he did was introduce you widowers and wifeless men, you knew what you were really here for. You were to be essentially sold off to the highest bidder, whoever could grant your father the highest position in the Roman court.

Luckily for you your mind was sharp, where your brother's got to wield a sword you were able to wield your mind. The senators did not want a smart woman, they wanted a loyal servant whom they could use as a fuck pig to breed as many heirs as possible. Your intelligence threw off many men, you could see the way they screwed up their faces as you questioned their politics and their theories.

Your father was not happy with your antics, he could see what you were doing, even if you tried to play stupid about it at home, yet he had no proof to punish you with, all he could do was keep dragging you to court, forcing you to mingle or even on occasion be the cup bearer and pour wine for men who considered you a second class citizen.

Court was due again today, this was a particularly special one as the emperors would be in attendance as it was nearing an election for new senators. Your father had specificaly warned you today to be on your best behaviour, that just meant no arguing with anyone. An eye roll as his back was turned is all you responded with, you never sought out the arguments, it was the senators fault for probing you for your opinions.

As ever it was a dull affair, once again as the wine bearer you had to walk around the table filling the cups of lecherous old men that probably couldn't satisfy you even if they tried. You held a smile on you face and kept quiet as you felt your father's gaze on you, waiting for the Emperors to finally arrive.

You were stood quietly in the corner, wine jug in hand when the doors swung open, watching the two figures walk forth. This was the first time you had been this close to the Emperors, you had seen them at the games in their podium but this was different, you would pour them wine and be within touching distance, it made you nervous, scared that you would overfill their cups and be target to their wrath.

The twin emperors took their seats at the head of the table, the tension between them was thick, you could sense that neither wanted the other one there, resenting that they had to share their title. Geta was tall and imposing, clearly trying the be the leader of the two of them, you knew many a girl back home who had dreams about him, fantasies of being his wife. Yet your gaze lingered elsewhere.

The smaller of the two is where your gaze lied, upon Caracalla. He was less imposing yet something drew your gaze to him, it was like magnetism, you could not look away. Caracalla sat there next to his brother, looking no less regal in his golden attire, what did make you smile was the monkey upon his shoulder ruffling up his hair. It was a cute display and the confidence it took to sit there with a monkey making you look disheveled was something else entirely.

Time came once again for you to deploy wine for the decrepit senators sat before you, smiling your best as you did so, trying to ignore the hands that would find the small of your back as you bent forward to pour the wine, giggling at them as if it was all a joke, daring not to upset your father in front of the emperors now.

The walk around the table took some time, you were on your third pitcher of wine by now and you had not even reached the head of the table. You reached for your final pitcher as you approached the emperors, steeling yourself with a deep breath and approaching them cautiouly. Geta's goblet was the first to be filled, he barely acknowledged you, moving himself away from you as you poured his wine so he could carry on speaking down the table.

Next was Caracalla's, he had been mostly quiet this evening for some reason, little did you know it was because he had been watching you in the corner, chuckling at every eye roll you made, hearing the senators speak. You bent forth to fill his glass when the monkey upon his shoulder jumped onto your back. You gasped slightly before giggling as she started playing with your hair, picking it up and placing your long locks over her own head pretending to be you.

"You'll have to excuse Dundus my lady, she has always been a cheeky one" Caracalla spoke softly to you, enjoying the joyous display and the smile upon your face as Dundus climbed over your shoulders. You lifted your hand to hold the monkeys own and guided her back to Caracalla with a genuine grin plastered over your face.

"Not to worry my emperor, it is a fine delight from this boring affair" Your statement caught his attention, as did your eye roll that you did not mean to do, it had been a boring affair but never had a woman noticed or cared to comment as such. He held his hand out and took one of your own in his heavy jewelled hands, cradling it as he spoke to you. "And what might your name be my little dove" he spoke as he looked you up and down, the name little dove making your heart flutter and almost rendering you speechless as you looked at him, taking in his handsome form, trying not to be affected by his smile.

This interaction caused you to blush somewhat, unable to refuse eye contact with the emperor you could not hide it from him. "My name is Y/N, your majesty" you bowed slightly before him, custom normally dictated for a full curtsey however it would be impossible with your hand still held in his own, feeling it would be more offensive to remove your hand without permission.

"Well Y/N, you are a delightful change from the bore of these trivial affairs, I hope I can see more of you soon to keep me entertained" Caracalla placed a light kiss on your hand before letting you go. You could still feel the smirk against your skin as you walked away from him, the tingle of his lips lingering.

The court moved on without much incident after that, yet you both kept steeling shy glaces at one another throughout the session. Your father had noticed this, the sly man that he was and kept the information in the back of his mind, especially after he saw Caracalla speak privately to one of his guards, watching how his eyes were on you for the entire exchange. He knew something was afoot and would use it to further his favour in the senate.

[girlgenius1111]

i don't know why i am the way i am

barça femeni x reader

when r scores an own goal, leading to the first not-win of the season, she is wracked with guilt. it suffocates her, until her teammates step in. angst, fluff.

warnings: pretty angst. unintentional self harm but... not really? lots of self resentment. r is sad :(

-----

As soon as the ball bounced off your head, you knew it was going the wrong way. You couldn't explain it, you just knew. Your senses were heightened as you landed back on the ground, whipping your head behind you. The ball was already in the back of the net, the opposing team already celebrating around you. You felt frozen, watching Cata pick up the ball, not looking at you. She looked frustrated. You assumed that was directed at you.

There wasn't much you could have done; the ball was already bouncing off an opponents head towards you. It would have gone in even if you hadn't touched it. Yet still, guilt chewed at you from the inside. It was an own goal. In a tough match for the team, where everyone left everything out on the pitch. There were only a few minutes left, and you'd let the opposing team tie the score.

"Olvídalo," Irene said, placing a hand on your shoulder. Forget it. How could you?

You knew you wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon. Not when Barça failed to score before the clock ran out. Not when the other team celebrated as the final whistle blew; even a draw with Barça was an achievement. Not when your teammates tried to tell you it was alright, that it didn't matter. Not even when Cata pulled you into a hug, promising that she didn't blame you.

It felt like everyone was watching you, teammates, opponents, coaches, everyone. You stuck around on the pitch only as long as you had too, shaking hands and numbly extending congratulations. Then, you were practically speed walking inside, towards the locker room. A hand caught your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, kid. It happens to everyone. That was going in either way." Lucy said softly. You searched her face for any sign of annoyance, of anger, and found none; the only recognizable emotion was concern. She was sporting her usual post-game ice pack around the knee, but it was clear that she'd ran over to catch you before you could disappear. You didn't deserve her kindness, not when you'd just singlehandedly ended the team's impressive winning streak.

You didn't really have anything to respond to that; a disagreement from you would only prompt her to try to convince you. And you couldn't agree, not when she was so very wrong. So, you shrugged, pulling away from her, and continuing on into the building. You felt her watching you as you walked away. You didn't deserve her kindess.

You were first to the showers, allowing a few tears to slide down your face now that you'd finally found solitude. The team was quiet as they filed into the locker room and eventually, the showers. A draw was not a result anyone was happy with. Not when they'd basically had the game won.

Finishing up your shower and heading back into the locker room, you tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. Unfortunately for you, the injured players had made their way down and it seemed like Alexia was waiting for you. The minute you'd gotten to your locker, she was hovering next to you.

"Talk with me outside for a minute?" She asked quietly, although you knew it wasn't a request. Sighing, you nodded, following her out of the room. Your captain led you down the hall and around the corner, to a vacant hallway, before turning around and looking at you with an unreadable expression on her face.

You couldn't decide if you should apologize or not; mistakes were something you should apologize for, and this was a mistake. At the same time, you got the feeling Alexia hadn't pulled you aside to lecture you.

"Are you upset?" Alexia asked you after a minute. You looked at her in disbelief.

"Of course I'm upset."

"You should not be." She replied.

"I lost us the match," you scoffed.

The blonde shook her head. "We did not lose, we drew. And no one loses the match singlehandedly. Losing is a team effort, just like winning is."

"I think an own goal is pretty much losing the match for us, Capi."

Still, Alexia persisted. "No, pequeña. This is not your fault." She could tell you didn't believe her.

"Y/n, Alexia, vamos." Jona called, evidently instructing you both to reenter the locker room for the post match talk. You walked off without another word, and Alexia followed, concern tugging at her as she watched the defeated way you carried yourself.

-----

If your teammates thought that you'd get over this one fast, they would be proven wrong. Three days later, and your behavior was only increasingly concerning. You'd been training like a crazy person. Extra reps of everything, staying after training to work on penalties.

Everyone had tried speaking to you about it, especially because it was clear you were working yourself into the ground. You wouldn't hear a word, though, even going so far as to shove Irene's hand off your shoulder and tell her to leave you alone. Your behavior wasn't normal for you. You didn't joke around with Pina and Patri, you didn't try to kick balls at Mapi's back when she wasn't looking. You didn't ask Ingrid or Frido to fix your hair, and you hadn't pestered Lucy about getting coffee with you before training.

No one was quite sure why you were taking this so hard; everyone had own goals, everyone dealt with them. You were acting like your career was on the line, though, and it very much wasn't.

On the fourth day, you were acting the same. You were exhausted, clearly, both mind and body. Alexia finally decided to put her foot down after you almost collapsed into her during sprints. It was halfway through training, and it was an endurance day. The team was only halfway through the assigned sprints when you stumbled, pitching forward.

"Kid?" Lucy questioned, lunging forward to catch you before you hit the ground.

"Fine. I'm fine." You mumbled, shutting your eyes and waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass. Lucy held you up, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with Alexia.

"Keep going." Your captain directed to the rest of the team, who had slowed down, looking over at you. The blonde made her way over to you, pulling you away from Lucy and into her, directing you over to a bench on the side of the pitch. She waved away Jona and the physios, crouching down in front of you.

"I'm okay, I just tripped." You said halfheartedly, even as you swayed slightly where you sat.

"Do not try, pequeña. Drink." Alexia ordered, handing you a water bottle. She stayed right in front of you, as if making sure you were actually going to drink the whole thing. You chugged it, before trying to stand. Alexia rose with you, giving you a look as she placed her hands on your trembling shoulders.

"No, pequeña. You need to rest. You are overworking yourself." Your captain's voice was stern, but it only made you angry.

"Alexia, I am fine. How many times do I have to tell you that? Let me go back to training."

"No. You go back to training, and you are benched this weekend."

Your jaw dropped, as a look of pure apprehension passed over your face, before it was quickly replaced by one of fury.

"Fine." You seethed, shrugging out from under Alexia's hands, and stomping towards the locker room. It was the second time in a week you'd walked away from her when she'd been trying to help you, and she was beginning to worry that if she didn't get through to you soon, the consequences would be bad.

-----

Your fists pounded, again and again, into the punching bag. Your knuckles on both your hands were split open, blood oozing from the cuts. Bruises were forming on your hands; you hadn't wrapped them like you were supposed to, and you'd been at this for close to a half hour. You had no plans to stop anytime soon. There was so much frustration, disappointment, and anger inside of you, and it had to go somewhere.

You'd gone home, briefly, after Alexia had forced you out of training, and tried to rest, despite your arguments. The minute you sat down on the couch, though, the feelings of guilt once again became overwhelming. The only time you didn't feel inadequate, guilty, filled with resentment towards yourself was when you were doing something. So, once you were sure everyone else would be gone from the Barça training grounds, you threw on training gear and headed back over.

You'd been in the gym since, working away at the punching bag. It was starting to stain with your blood, but you didn't notice. You didn't notice any of it, the pain in your hands least of all.

Your own goal kept replaying, over and over, inside your head. The gasp from the crowd, the cheer of the opposing team. It echoed around inside your head, haunting you.

You didn't hear the door to the gym open, didn't hear the soft calls of your name. You jumped when an arm wrapped around your midsection tugging you back from the punching bag, fighting the embrace. You looked up into the mirror, seeing Ingrid tightly holding you to her body, and calmed somewhat.

"It's okay, it's okay," her words broke through the fog. As she spoke, you realized there were tears falling rapidly down your face. Mapi stepped in front of you, grabbing your hands in hers.

"Dios mio cariño," she murmured, taking in the damage you'd done. You were dizzy, suddenly, and you collapsed back into Ingrid, knees buckling.

"Easy, elskling," she said, catching your weight easily. Her and Mapi got you over to one of the massage tables in the room, sitting you down as you leaned heavily into Ingrid. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and you weren't quite sure what was going on. Other than the feeling of Ingrid's hand rubbing up and down your arm, no other sensations registered.

It felt like only seconds had passed when someone pressed an ice cube into your hand, wrapping your swelling fingers around it. You jolted up and away from Ingrid, somewhat coming back into yourself.

"Hey, pequeña, you with me?" Alexia asked, standing in front of you and peering at you worriedly.

When had Alexia gotten here? And when had Mapi finished cleaning your hands off? All the lights were on in the room, now, and you were suddenly aware that a unknown period of time had passed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm with you," you murmured, mouth feeling dry, teeth chattering.

The girls exchanged looks. "What were you doing here?" Ingrid wondered.

"I had some energy I needed to burn off." You said, looking down at your bandaged hands.

"I told you no more training today, pequeña. Why did you not wrap your hands?" Alexia questioned, eyes narrowing slightly with worry.

"I forgot to."

"Forgot? You did not notice that it hurt?" Mapi said.

"No. I didn't feel it." You explained. Your friends didn't like the way your voice sounded, not at all. It was completely monotone, no emotion or inflection to it; like you were numb. You did feel numb, honestly. Now that the feelings had faded, you were left empty. All that registered with you was the throbbing in both your hands, and the fact that you were suddenly, incredibly exhausted. "What were you guys doing here?"

"I went to check on you, and your car was not home. I had Mapi and Ingrid meet me here."

"Oh."

You slid of the table, standing on slightly wobbly legs. Your teammates all moved closer, as if expecting you to collapse again.

You looked at them, raising an eyebrow. "I'm good, guys. Really."

"Stop telling us that when it is absolutely clear that you are not okay." Mapi pleaded.

You shook your head instinctually, crossing your arms over your chest, but wincing as you did so, the movement causing pain to shoot across your swollen knuckles.

When Ingrid spoke, her tone was painfully gentle, like you were fragile. "Elskling, you are not okay. We care about you and we want-"

"-Well stop caring. I don't want you to." You cried, frustrated with them, with everything. With yourself most of all.

"Amiga, we are not going to stop caring about you," Mapi began, eyebrows furrowing as you interrupted her, tears beginning to flow down your face once again.

"I don't understand why you aren't all mad at me. Yell at me, tell me you're disappointed, do something. I can't take this anymore, please." You sobbed, bringing a wounded hand up to cover your eyes. You'd hit your breaking point, clearly. For better or for worse.

"Cariño," Alexia whispered, moving closer to pull you into a hug. You pushed away from her, trying to head for the door. Your teammates couldn't let you leave, though, not in this state. Ingrid grabbed you around the waist once again, pulling you into her even as you fought her hold.

"Stop, stop, stop," you repeated, words barely understandable through your tears.

"I can't let you go right now, y/n, I'm sorry," Ingrid murmured. Weakly, you continued to struggle against the Norwegian, trying to squirm your way out of her arms.

"Stop try-trying to comfort me. 'Don't deserve it," you choked out. In front of you, Mapi and Alexia stood, heartbroken, unsure of what to do, though they were desperate to do something.

It was all too much for you, understandably so, and you gave up your struggle, allowing Ingrid to ease you to the ground, her grip on you never faltering. You cried into her shirt, soaking it with your tears, leaning into the comfort she brought even as you were so convinced you didn't deserve it.

You were slumped against Ingrid, body trembling as the Norwegian tried to hold you steady, when Mapi approached with the first aid kit. She began to carefully wrap your knuckles up. Her touch was kind and gentle, where the wounds you had inflicted were left in a harsh and cruel fashion. It was the rhythmic movements of the bandages being wrapped around your hands that got you to stop crying. Something about it was strangely comforting; maybe, it was just the care that you were being shown, even as you'd fought so hard to reject it.

Your gaze was torn away from Mapi's hands holding your own when Alexia approached with a damp towel in hand. Your captain wiped carefully at the tear tracks staining your cheeks, face pinched with worry. The room was completely quiet, and you flinched when that quiet was broken.

"Let's get you home, okay?" Alexia suggested, leaving it up to you. You nodded minutely, allowing Mapi to pull you to your feet, and lead you out the gym door. You went willingly, all the way to Alexia's car, compliant as Mapi helped you into the front seat and buckled you in.

"We love you. You know that, right?" She asked quietly, leaning against the door as Alexia slid into the drivers seat.

"I know." You admitted, voice raspy from the stress it had been through. Looking up at Mapi, she could tell that you did know it, even if you didn't quite understand why. Exchanging a look with Alexia, she pressed a soft kiss onto your forehead, before shutting the door and heading to her own car, where Ingrid was awaiting her.

Alexia drove you towards her house, and once again, you didn't object. Before, you'd been completely tense, wound so tight she was worried you would snap. It seemed like you finally had; she glanced over at you while stopped at a red light. You were curled into yourself, arms wrapped around your body as if you needed to physically hold yourself together. The fight had gone out of you, and Alexia felt that she should be glad, that you weren't fighting her anymore. Instead, she only felt dread at the aura of defeat that seeped off of you, filling the car.

This guilt, this desperate desire to make your percieved transgression right, it had to come from somewhere. Alexia was absolutely dead set on finding out where. You were just a kid, and you were much too good, completely and purely good, to despise yourself to such a massive extent, over something that wasn't even really your fault. She was determined, also, to dismantle this guilt. Whatever it took.

-----

i don't think im capable of... not writing part twos.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 1

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Summary : Ona has to leave Barcelona against her will because her mother decided to sent her to a school in Manchester.

Words : 4k

Masterlist

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Monday, October 5; 6:45 AM - Home.

« Get up, Onii!!! »

I jump when a little bundle pounces on me, screaming. I groan into my pillow as he laughs in my ears before getting off my back. I turn over as quickly as possible to catch him before he runs away. The surprise rings in my ears even before his shrill scream, but I don't let go of him.

« Joan... » I begin in the calmest voice I can manage. « How many times have I asked you not to wake me up like this? »

« Mmmmmh... »he pretends to think. « I don't remember! »

« You'll see! »

A mix of cries and laughter fills the room as I attack him with tickles along her ribs. He tries to struggle, but I'm far too strong for him.

« St-stop », he says between laughs. « P-Please... Oniii! »

« Ona, let go of your little brother. He'll be late otherwise! » my mother reprimands me as she passes by my bedroom door.

« You're lucky this time! »

I release him and get out of bed to go to my closet. I sigh when I see that a large number of clothes are missing.

« Are you taking me to school this morning? »

I turn around to see my little brother watching me from the edge of the bed where he's sitting. He's so innocent. He makes me want to go back to when I was his age. Everything was simpler. It's rather ironic, considering he keeps telling me he wishes he were as big as I am. My many discussions about my departure don't seem to have sunk in, given his question. I'm afraid he'll hold it against me over time, as this isn't the first time I've left home. I approach him, crouching down to his level. His doe eyes and sad expression don't make it any easier to say what I need to, but I go ahead anyway.

« Joan... » We've already talked about this. You know it's not possible.

« But I don't want you to leave! » he raises his voice. « You just got back... »

I tense up when he lowers his head to hide his sorrow from me. I feel so guilty for causing him so much pain. He doesn't deserve to be caught up in all this mess. I gently stroke his cheek to encourage him to lift his head.

He makes a pout that could melt anyone's heart, mine first and foremost.

« I'm sorry, little heart... I'm really sorry for putting you through all this. You know that if I could stay, I would. You know that, right? »

« I don't want you to leave! » he shouts again. « Stay, please. »

Now he's crying, which only makes me feel worse. His tears bring tears to my own eyes. I hold him as tightly as I can and stroke his hair to soothe his sadness.

Joan is undeniably my weakness in all this. I feel so guilty about leaving again. I have to stay strong and hide my feelings to avoid making his reaction worse. If it were up to me, I would stay. I resent my mother for sending me to that damn school thousands of miles away. It cuts me off from the few loved ones I have left.

« When will you come back? »

« I have no idea », I shrug. « We'll see. Anyway, I'll call you regularly. »

« Promise? »

« Of course, if I'm allowed to, I will. »

« Is it very strict there? »

If there's one thing I don't like about kids, it's their curiosity. They just keep asking questions and can ask the same one ten times to get an answer. It's not so bad, but in my situation, it's annoying because I don't have the answers myself. He just reminds me why I've been stressed all week since the news broke.

« Well, you know what? » I change the subject. « If we hurry, I'll try to negotiate with Mom to take you to school before I leave. »

« Really? » He smiles with all his teeth.

« Of course! I just have to make sure I don't miss my flight. If we leave a bit earlier, I can drop you off before going to the airport. »

« YAY! »

I laugh at his excitement. I help him get dressed so he can quickly head downstairs. His departure allows me to clean up his mess and get myself ready more peacefully. Fifteen minutes later, I join him downstairs.

Dressed and with makeup on. I find him in the large dining room talking with his father and our mother. I don't bother to stop and head straight to the kitchen. I sit on a high chair behind the bar that faces the kitchen. I smile when I see a cup of hot chocolate and a freshly prepared pastry waiting for me.

« Good morning, Sam. »

« Oh, hi Ona. »

He moves to the counter so we can be face-to-face and chat while I enjoy my breakfast. I've had this habit since... well, since he started working here, to be honest. Samuel has been our cook for a few years now. We're almost the same age, give or take five years. His dishes are truly outstanding. I'll really miss them. They say the food in boarding schools isn't very good.

« So, you'll take me to school then? »

« What's this about now? » asks my mother, entering the room with Joan.

« I told him I'd drop him off if we leave a bit earlier. »

« Did you really have to tell him that? » she snaps.

« It's the last time I'll see him for a long time, you could make an effort. »

I maintain my gaze firmly. She eventually capitulates with a sigh. I suppress a smile that could change her mind. I always win when it comes to staring contests. I'm proud to have irritated her, but even more proud to have won.

« Fine, hurry up then. »

« Yay! »

My brother knows how to lighten the mood. I take a sip from my cup to hide my amusement as he dashes out of the kitchen, with my mother chasing after him, yelling to be careful on the stairs.

« Tough leaving, huh? » asks Sam.

« Not really. The hardest part is leaving Joan. Take care of him for me, please. »

« Don't worry about that. He'll be fine, unlike you », he says through gritted teeth.

« I'll be fine too », I assure him.

« I hope so. It would be nice to see you alive again », he jokes. 

I roll my eyes with a smirk. We've always had a good relationship. At first, I even thought he had a thing for me. I realized it was a mistake later when I found out he was dating this guy named Paolo. I had a good laugh. As a lesbian I was surprised that Samuel was gay too.

« Shall we go, Oni ? »

I turn to Joan, who has returned with his backpack on. The time for goodbyes has come. I smile at my brother and get up to put my empty cup in the sink. Then, I walk over to Sam and give him a tight hug.

"It's all going to be okay, you'll see," he reassures me.

"I'll try to call. Can you put Joan on when you get the chance?" I ask.

"Promise. I really hate goodbyes," he adds, pulling me back into his embrace.

I laugh, playfully tapping his shoulder when I notice his teary eyes. It's touching since I've never seen him cry. I leave before I end up in the same state. I miss Sofia, my governess, who has a day off today. I said goodbye to her yesterday, but it's not the same. She's a bit like my second mom. She always knew how to lend a listening ear when I needed it. I go up to my room to check that I haven't forgotten anything. I also stop by the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I'm sure everything's in order, I put on my jacket, grab my bag, and take one last look at my room. It's time to leave if I want to take Joan to school, so I head down the stairs without rushing.

Hector has put your suitcase in the trunk," my mother informs me as she waits. "Do you have your ticket? »

"Yeah," I reply, patting my pockets to double-check.

"A taxi will drop you off at the school."

I half-listen to my mother's final instructions about my arrival at my new life. I look up when I realize she's wrapping up her verbose explanations, which I could have done without.

"Are you going to be okay?" she finally asks.

« Does it really matter to you?" I retort rhetorically, brushing past her to reach the entrance. She sighs behind me as I open the door. It's all her fault anyway. I look at the cobblestone driveway where the car is already prepared with Joan inside. I greet Hector, our driver, who is standing nearby. I descend the stairs and glance to my left at our garden where Marcus is. I give him a small nod. Asshole. He's my mother's boyfriend. He's not entirely to blame, but I've never been able to like him. I avoid looking back at the landing where my mother might play the model mom, waving me off as if I'm going on vacation. I've never liked formalities, so I head to the front seat of the car. Hector has long stopped making remarks about it. He settles in beside me and pulls into traffic once the gate opens. I watch the house recede in the rearview mirror. Here we go... We're on our way. Before starting my new life, we make a stop at Joan's school. Hector wishes him a good day as I step out to walk him to the gate. The hardest moment arrives... I crouch down to his level. He immediately wraps his little arms around me for a hug.

"I don't want you to go," he says softly.

"Look at me, Joan," I ask gently, lifting his chin. "It's going to be okay, alright? I'll come back, don't worry."

"Will you think about me a lot?"

"I'll do nothing else."

"Will you call me?"

"If I'm allowed, I will. I promised you, little one," I say, touching his nose with my finger. "Sam and Sofia will pass you the phone if it's me."

"I'll miss you."

He hugs me again, and I squeeze him as tightly as I can. I kiss his forehead before helping him with his backpack.

"I love you, Ona!"

"I love you too, sweetheart! Now, go play with your friends."

He runs off to join them. I wait until he looks back to wave at him with a smile. I make sure not to show any emotion so that at least one of us is reassured. I turn around when I'm no longer the center of his attention and settle back into the car. Hector starts driving towards the airport without saying a word. Everyone knows these are the toughest goodbyes for me.

"Are you okay?" he asks, handing me a tissue.

I hadn't even realized I was crying. I nod and smile gratefully as I take the tissue. The journey lasts half an hour to reach the airport. I have plenty of time to check in my luggage and go through security before the flight. Hector insisted on accompanying me the whole way, despite my repeated assurances that he didn't need to stay, though I appreciate his presence. Boarding time arrives quickly, and we head there after passing all the checks.

"We'll take care of Joan, don't worry," he tries to reassure me.

"Thank you."

"He's a big boy now, you know."

"Yes, he's grown up so much," I reply with a faint smile.

The intercom interrupts, announcing the boarding call. I turn to my driver, whom I've always appreciated. He's in his forties, but we've always had a special bond. He smiles tenderly, and we share a hug. I take the opportunity to thank him for everything before joining the line that has formed. I teased Sam about his state earlier, but I'm not much better at the moment. At the end of the line, I present my ticket to a hostess who tears off a portion. A security guard beside her checks my navy blue Eastpack once more, then they wish me a safe journey... "Safe journey," my ass, yeah. I move forward without a word for boarding. A second hostess welcomes me onto the plane and helps me find my seat number. Luck seems to be on my side for once. I have a window seat, and my neighbor who arrives shortly after me is an elderly lady. I'll have peace and quiet for the entire journey. I switch my phone to airplane mode. I put my headphone on. Music will help me sleep since I have two hours to kill. I start my music just as the intercom instructs us to fasten our seatbelts because takeoff is imminent. Indeed, a few minutes later, we're airborne. I watch our ascent through the window with a thoughtful expression. "Hasta la vista Barcelona... Hello Manchester !"

Monday, October 5th; 10:25 - Manchester Airport.

Damn it... Not only did I forget about the time difference, but I also forgot about the temperature change here! I'm finally in my taxi after taking some time to find my driver with his tiny sign. We're now stuck in monstrous traffic. The scenery is different from Barcelona. I'm going to miss my city more than I thought. I put my headphones back on just as my driver announced that we still have a way to go. He explained that the school is located away from the city center, but right now, we're stuck in the middle of it. We just need to manage to get out. Given the traffic jams, I have more time ahead of me. I could have done without it, considering how my imagination has come back in full force. I know nothing about the school she's sending me to. As if what I went through wasn't enough. Something like this had to happen to me again.

I hate having to listen to my mother and do everything she says. I'll be twenty in a few days and I still have to do as she pleases. If I hadn't messed up, I might already have a job by now. Now, here I am stuck on the other side of the Europe, with no one. Thanks, Mom, thanks a lot! My stress level shoots up again, though it had subsided thanks to my nap on the plane. I managed to catch up on my sleep. Nothing can change now. I'm here, and it will be difficult to turn back. The driver tries to make conversation, but he understands it's a lost cause. I can be a real wall when I want to be. He seems relieved to have finally arrived after forty-five minutes on the road. We would have certainly taken less time without the traffic jams. I get out of the car while the driver takes care of my suitcase. There are no buildings here, just a few houses around and even then. I didn't see any bus stops either, which I don't like too much.

The driver told me it was impossible for him to go any further. I understand why now, seeing what's in front of me. A huge, very impressive metal gate blocks the road. OK, what is this place? It's surrounded by an impenetrable high brown stone wall. It might have had its charm in another context. I feel like I'm standing in front of a prison entrance. I read the sign proudly standing above the gate: Camp Wiegman. What the hell is this mess? A camp? I wanted to ask the driver if he had the wrong place, but he was already gone. What an asshole! He better hope I don't run into him again next time! I groan in frustration and resign myself to dragging my feet and my suitcase towards the reception. A woman in her fifties is there, with glasses dangling on her nose. She looks up and smiles warmly at me. At least I'm not dealing with an old hag.

"Hello. You must be the new one, right?"

"I guess. Ona Batlle," I introduced myself.

"That's right," she said, looking at a sheet. "Come in, I'll notify them of your arrival!"

A door next to the large gray gate opens. I push it and roll my suitcase inside. Surprisingly, the taxi wasn't wrong after all. This place is huge from what I can see. I don't know where to look, it's quite... breathtaking. I don't dare move, not knowing where to go. The door is now closed behind me, preventing me from getting out. I wait a few minutes, and still, no one comes. The receptionist smiles at me every time I look at her. I guess someone will come to get me.

"Welcome to Camp Wiegman, Ona!"

I jump and turn toward the voice. A blonde woman stands before me. She has glasses and smile at me. I frown as I shake the hand she offers me. The only question that comes to mind is: Who is she?She must have understood.

"Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself! I’m Marina Wiegman, the director of this camp."

"Why does that name sound familiar?"

"I'm a friend of your parents" he explains.

"Oh."

I can't manage to say anything else. They've put me in a damn camp run by their friend. Great! This is getting worse and worse! This whole situation reeks of trouble.

"Follow me, I'll give you a quick tour of the place."

She orders me to leave my luggage, saying someone will take care of it. So, I leave my suitcase but keep my backpack. We walk down the large tree-lined avenue. It looks like a beautiful place... until you see what's hidden inside. I wasn't wrong. This place is gigantic! I can't see the end because of the buildings in front of us, but the horizon is already impressive. We take a left where I can see two fields in the distance surrounded by perfectly maintained grass. As we get closer, I spot a macadam field and a grass field, both fenced. Next to that, there’s a huge brand-new gymnasium. We don't go inside, but she indicates there are several rooms that I'll discover over time. We continue the tour in the first building on the left. It’s attached to the central building. This one houses the various classrooms, according to her. There’s another similar building just behind, connected by covered walkways. They don't seem big, only having one small floor each. One thing is for sure, the decoration is far from warm. Everything is as cold as the weather outside. It's raining, by the way. I already miss the sun I left behind in Barcelona. All the buildings are made of gray bricks. The only place that seems less gloomy is the new gymnasium. We exit through the back of the second building after a short passage and continue to the right. We pass the cafeteria, then the dormitories which are at the other end. She indicates that the staff dormitory is behind the student one. We complete our loop by returning to the central building. It’s the heart of the place and houses the administration. It looks very large. The upper floor must be her personal quarters. We continue inside where we are greeted by a hall before accessing the offices. We pass through a door with a sign indicating the secretariat. We walk down a long corridor with several doors labeled with names, most of them closed. We finally reach her office at the end. She invites me to sit on a chair, which I do without hesitation.

"I'm sorry I could only stop by briefly, but work keeps me very busy."

"No problem."

"Alright, let's get to the point. Did your mother explain anything to you?"

"Not really," I replied honestly. "Just that I'd be here for a long time."

"I see," she said. "I've been informed about your issues. Do I have your permission to share this information with the staff?"

"I'd prefer you didn't."

"As you wish. Do you know it's usually hard to get into this kind of camp?"

"Believe me, if I could have avoided it, I wouldn't be here," I retorted.

"Many applications were rejected this year. I shouldn't even be taking on another person in the middle of the year. You should see this as an opportunity! Your mother contacted me. I owed her a favor, so I reconsidered your application after someone left."

"I could have done without it," I muttered.

"We are a strict establishment," she continued, ignoring my comment. "We have clear rules that must not be broken under penalty of sanctions."

"Hmm."

"We are a half-university, half-military camp."

I sat up straight. Did I hear that correctly?! Military? This has to be a joke! She frowned as I laughed.

"What's so funny, Ona?"

"Military, seriously?" I laughed even harder.

"Military, indeed," she confirmed. "Well, it's a big word. You simply have the right to supervision and guidance by instructors alongside your classes. We are a special private educational institution."

"Didn't see that coming."

I hate her. There's no other word. Sending me to a place like this?! Does she want to turn me into a little soldier or what? If she thinks I'm going to go along with this, she's dreaming! I can already tell I'm going to have fun driving them crazy. They'll get so fed up with me that they'll send me back themselves.

"Since you're just starting, you'll be under the responsibility of an instructor for a while," she informed me. "This person is the one you should listen to first. They will help you adapt, guide you, and discipline you if necessary."

"Yeah, yeah."

I couldn’t care less about what she has to say now. I've been tuning out since she mentioned it's a military school. I did catch that all devices are banned in the camp except in the rooms. Phones included. Great! Well, at least I can use it in the room I'll have the pleasure of sharing with a roommate. It won't change much; I'll act as if I'm alone. I don't plan on staying here, so I'll make sure not to get attached. The best thing would be to leave as quickly as I arrived. She finishes by giving me my class assignment. Wait, they have classes here?! Surprising for this kind of school. She hands me a paper with my schedule and the names of my teachers. I don't even bother to glance at it. I don't know anyone anyway. Wiegman's monologue is interrupted by a noise at the door. A young girl enters after getting permission. She introduce herself as Lotte Wubben-Moy the adoptive daughter of the director Wiegman.

"Lotte will show you to your room in the dormitory. Once again, welcome, Ona. I hope I won't have to see you in my office anytime soon!"

"Yeah, thanks."

I leave the office, ignoring the hand Lotte extends. I wait for her in the hallway while she quickly says goodbye to her mother and closes the door. She leads the way since I don't know the place well yet.

"Your name is Ona, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you have a good trip?"

"Don't bother trying to make conversation"

Her face falls at my harsh and curt tone. At least she understands not to talk to me. I'm furious with my mother. How could she send me to a military camp! I can't swallow it. It doesn’t even make sense! I now understand why she didn't give me any information about where she was sending me. She just handed me a ticket and said I was leaving home. If I had known, I wouldn't have even gotten on that damned plane. Then again, maybe I would have. She didn't give me much choice. It was either this or she would cut me off and throw me out on the street. That was clear. I don’t know if she would have actually done it, but I didn’t want to take the risk.

We walk along the outside to reach the right side. We arrive at the dormitory I saw earlier. It's larger than the classroom building we visited before. It has three stories. We pass through wooden doors. I'm surprised by the interior. It's a bit cheerier than what I've seen so far since arriving. We're greeted in the hall by a large wooden staircase that leads in two opposite directions. We go up and take a right. Lotte explains that the dormitory is divided into two sections. We stop on the first floor where we reach a long corridor. There are two more floors, but they are for the first and second-year students. I'm surprised she still dares to talk to me after I so harshly rebuffed her. She stops her explanations when we stop in front of room 19. From what I've observed, the even-numbered rooms are on the right and the odd-numbered ones are opposite. She steps aside to let me enter first. The room is nothing special. It has the bare minimum. Two single beds dominate the middle of the room, each with a two-drawer nightstand next to it. A lamp and a clock radio sit on top. On the other side of the bed, two wardrobes face each other. The one at the far end is next to a window, the only source of natural light. Finally, there are two desks at the foot of each bed. There's just enough space to pass between each piece of furniture. I open the only other door next to the entrance to discover a bathroom that is also nothing special. Surprisingly, it’s rather modern. It has a shower, a small sink with an extended countertop, and a mirror above. There’s also a toilet and a laundry basket. I close the door and move into the room with white walls. There's no decoration, so it still feels rather cold, once again.

"Well, here you are," she breaks the silence. "Your suitcase is already here, as you can see. I'm going back to my room. If you need anything, come see me. I'm in room 3, first floor."

"I'll be fine, thanks."

She nods before closing the door behind her. I sigh, looking around the room. What am I doing here? I have to survive a year. A fucking year that I plan to cut short. They don’t know who I am, but they will soon. My name is going to be known to the staff very quickly. If I understood correctly, I'm free for the rest of the day. I pull out my iPod from my pocket and check my phone. I must have sent a message to my mother when I got off the plane. I'm relieved to see she hasn't replied. She would have faced my wrath, and this time, I’ll have trouble holding it back.

My suitcase is at the far end of the room, right under the window. I guess that’s my side. I check by opening the first wardrobe. I close it immediately upon finding it full and lie down on the bed at the back. I would have chosen this one if I had the choice. I like having the window on my side, even though I doubt it will be of much use given the weather outside. I grab my bag to get something to eat. I’m glad I thought to bring snacks. Given the time, I would have been starving until dinner since I didn't eat lunch. I then slip my headphones into my ears. I use this quiet time to gather myself, staring pensively at the ceiling. I still can’t believe where I am. A military camp. This is going to be interesting... depending on your point of view, of course!

[notmorbid]

playground.

dialogue prompts from playground: a novel by richard powers.

how can people live in this?

i'm trying to remember why i'm alive.

i am alive for the sole purpose of enjoying you.

you are a sordid piece of shit.

i love you. you'll believe anything.

i cannot wait to be free of you.

i've never told anyone but you.

it's okay. you're awake.

the gods are bothering me, for some reason.

i could learn something from you.

whose kid are you?

everyone needs to eat, but few people are aware of who sets the table.

you can't forget what you never knew.

people and their emotions puzzle me.

ready or not, here comes everything.

it's a fine morning, all things considered.

you're going to save us.

was there something you wanted to talk about?

they make electric cars now, you know.

i failed you.

i made a promise that i can't keep.

your perfection embarrasses me.

it's only emergency adultery.

what i really want is to talk.

power is an isolating thing.

power is a thing more given than taken.

i'm done with denial. i'm working my way through resentment.

i've rolled enough dice in my life to know how chance works.

i've always been a coward about the unknown.

all you need to do is breathe.

the water belongs to nobody. it's no man's land.

you're the only one of us who has a chance of making it in this world.

the smart ones want to be anywhere but here.

everyone talks a lot of trash about you, you know.

nobody really knows you. only i know the real you.

what is the most important quality a person can possess?

don't worry. i love you no matter what.

a person who never felt sad would be a monster.

i've had enough paternal stupidity for one lifetime.

i knew of you before i knew your name.

you deserve the best that ______ has to offer.

any excuse to go home as late as possible.

this is america. it's hardly a fair fight.

see you next week, asshole.

_____ is the closest thing to my religion.

you can ask. doesn't mean i have to answer.

who taught you to be so sneaky?

i can't even bluff at cards.

disguise yourself and do what you need to.

do you have a life philosophy? words you live by?

you couldn't have called ahead?

you seem like you can handle other people's opinions.

i won't be gone for long.

this isn't going to work, is it?

i'm not going to be able to leave you, am i?

life is never good at obeying human logic.

i wouldn't mind laying down a while. maybe just a month or two.

we make things that we hope will be bigger than us, then we're desolate when that's what they become.

you're truly crazy, but crazy memorable.

i could complain, but i won't.

i tend to think that the world is my fault. maybe that's ego or something.

you don't even know how free you are. it's just like breathing to you.

hold on. small steps.

i always thought a person had to choose between safety and freedom.

you could teach me a thing or two.

new game. i'm making the rules.

every human heart imagines god a different way.

stop being such a self-protecting little coward.

if it makes you feel good to think so, then think so.

i'm so simple. you only need to know a few things about me.

i don't believe in your world, and you'll never understand mine.

being safety will always get you killed.

they got what they wanted, but now they want the old me back.

this place isn't fit for human habitation.

find the moves the rules forgot to outlaw.

you know what the flight attendants say: put your own mask on before assisting others.

i was there. i know that song.

no vote is a vote, too.

what we two had was very beautiful for a while.

do not blame your fear of life on me.

i'll be fine. back in ten minutes.

don't let them make you as crazy as they are.

there has to be a way to spin this mountain of shit into gold.

i never did like poker. too much psychology.

when have i ever not helped you?

hope and truth cannot be reconciled.

don't i get a hug before the interrogation? a 'nice to see you'?

have you been sleeping alright? your eyes look baggy.

i've gotten what i needed from this life.

why are you still so tall?

you only ever loved me for my car.

call me. same old number.

what are you? who are you? why are you here?

what did you do to ____?

careful. remember your training.

consciousness is not all it's cracked up to be.

[g0thnico]

How I would make Nico and Percy an end game

(a very long text that I wrote at 3 am):

Before Percy threw himself into the River Styx, Nico would declare himself, as neither of them knew if this would work, so all that romantic tension that was between Percy/Rachel/Annabeth would turn into Percy/Rachel/annabeth/Nico, this would help Percy think more about his feelings about Nico, so he would be "rejected" by Rachel and still be thinking about Nico's declaration. thanks to that Annabeth and Percy would never have dated and Percy would still be thinking that during the holidays after the war in Manhattan.

Percy would be kidnapped by Hera, she would remind him of Annabeth to manipulate him, he would find Nico and remember him (even though that shouldn't happen) okay, everything goes normally, but Percy's decisive moment in his decision would be when Annabeth saw him and immediately spun him around in a judo strike. From that moment on, he understood which of the two really cared about him.

Everything would go on normally again until they find Nico in the jar, Percy rescues him and they have a talk about feelings (as much as they both hate it, Percy knew it was necessary) They kind of go into a state of "let's get to know each other before we date" and that doesn't last long because suddenly Percy is in Tartarus with Annabeth. In Tartar, Percy and Annabeth talk about this situation with Nico (he doesn't mention that Nico also likes him because Nico hasn't come out of the closet yet) and they understand each other, realizing that maybe they would be better as friends anyway, They find bob and Percy is like "did Nico say that?" And falling more and more in love. When he poisons that goddess to save Annabeth, he feels resentful when she simply acts like he's a monster and tells him not to use those powers.

On the other hand, Nico and Jason go to Cupid to get that scepter and Nico has to admit about his crush on Percy, but that's not so bad now that they're in a situationship, Cupid is kind of happy about it instead "muahahaha unrequited love! Pain! Suffering!" But he's still upset about being pulled out of the closet, but Jason accepts him and suddenly he became the #0 percico shipper.

when they meet again, after tartarus, Annabeth and Jason end up finding a way to get Percy and Nico alone to clarify things (and even kiss but that doesn't happen), Nico explains about cupid and Jason and Percy vents about Annabeth and misery.

This is a good start for them to get to know each other better and Jason was 100% trying to get them together, but it will take a while because they need to develop more to be ready to really to fall in love.

When they have to separate, when Nico stops to take the Athena Parthenon, Percy promises that as soon as this war is over, they would go on a date. and when Percy is leaving to prepare and face Gaia, he gets a lucky kiss.

(in this part I'm only going to talk about Nico because Percy's part doesn't have anything very relevant to the couple)

I don't remember exactly the order of things that happened in this book but:

Nico meets the Artemis hunters and something in him tells him to reveal himself to Thalia, after all, if her brother knows why not?

Before taking his nap, he ends up revealing he will go on a date with Percy to Reyna, he doesn't know her reaction as he went to sleep afterwards but she was like "oh, good for you man"

When he meets Hades, they have that father and son conversation and at the end he just says "...and I'm dating Percy" and hades "...the son of Poseidon? Wasn't there someone better?"

When Nico arrives at camp and Will Solace is babbling about births, and he just holds Nico's hand to place on his chest, in Nico's mind it's like "get out, I have a boyfriend" but he doesn't say that

This whole Nico arc is basically him finally feeling good enough about himself to come out to his friends and dad, but not good enough to disclose it to anyone. Still, it is a greater evolution than the original book.

The end of the war arrives and Nico is slowly turning into a ghost, Leo has died and so has Octavian, the air smells of death and victory and they need to rest.

The first thing Percy does as soon as he is free is to look for Nico, who was in the infirmary after using his powers a lot. Despite being tired, Nico never asks Percy to stop talking when he starts to tell every little thing about the battle when they were apart, and as soon as he finishes Nico lets out a "I love you, but right now I need to sleep for the next week." Percy thought he was joking when this literally happened. Reyna explained that this was normal and during Nico's nap, he planned their date.

The date: Percy was dressed up (like, with an improvised suit) and had a (stolen) rose in his hand, he took Nico to the entrance of the camp where Sally was prepared as his official driver (inside she was MY SON'S FIRST BOYFRIEND!!!) and there were snacks in the car because the trip would be long (They spent this time in the car talking about Nico's journey and how he came out to his father, Thalia and Reyna). Percy had asked for reservations at an Italian restaurant (a real one, with Italian chefs), because he remembered that Nico is Italian and he probably hasn't eaten real Italian food since he was a kid. They talk about everything, school, camp, friends, family. Until they both realize that neither of them know exactly what they want to do in the future. Nico wanted to continue life the way that is, doing missions for his father, traveling and meeting Percy (usually to save his life buuut who cares) While Percy wanted to have a normal life, going to camp in the summers to meet his friends and help the New demigods, but without going on missions all the time or risking your life, only if absolutely necessary, but still working in the mortal world (he doesn't want to go to college) and have his own house.

To conclude: they both followed their respective lifestyles, but they still met practically every day, and when they didn't, they called each other. Eventually they were falling in love. They only told a few people (Hazel, Reyna, Rachel, Annabeth, Jason, Grover, Thalia and Clarisse) and it was ok!

no one expected that this would end, But love is like that, it's very unpredictable

[fluffomatic]

Alright, so I've been gone for a while again.

I'm really sorry for disappearing again with no warning. My physical health hasn't really been getting better, which has been making my mental health plummet. To say I haven't been doing good is an understatement, I feel like I have more bad days them good at this point. I'm working on it slowly, I'm trying to get out of it again.

For the time being, I'm taking a break on commissions, meaning they're officially closed, as are requests of any kind. I'm gonna try drawing again with no strings attached. I feel drawing for myself can help pull me out of this funk. To those who have ordered a commission, I will get to it, I promise, but it's gonna take a while. I'll try to get back to them quickly, but I need a break before I start resenting art again 😅

In good news, the new Dragon Age came out on Halloween, and I officially finished it today. It's probably why I came back here cause I don't have that to put all my time into anymore, lol. Luckily, that game made me want to draw again, so fingers crossed. I already have headcanons and stuff for the characters, and I can't wait to introduce you all to my Rook!

Again, I'm sorry for going on an impromptu hiatus, I'll try to post about it if it happens again so I don't leave you all in the dark. I know my heath isn't great right now, but I am trying to get thorough this no matter how much pain I'm in. Advice to anyone experiencing any pain, get it checked out quickly, cause it can and will get worse. Don't let it get worse.

[munsonsduchess]

Scrunchie Love

summary: you go to a halloween gig at the hideout and meet eddie after the show who needs some help with his hair w/c: 1,591 warnings: smoking, mentions of a serial killer, the reader briefly feels scared to be alone with eddie a/n: holy shit would you look at that? i am indeed, alive! i'm as shocked as you guys are! honestly i have just had zero motivation to write anything since the summer but i wanted to make sure i posted something for halloween so enjoy!

The air was thick with stale sweat, stale beer and stale smoke as you pushed your way through the crowd for the exit and the promise of fresh air. You’d seen all you’d came to see that evening and had no intention of sticking around longer than necessary. 

The hideout was a small, dingy bar at the best of times but the owner filled it to capacity and then some for nights like this. Halloween was always the one night a year they could be sure of a crowd, even more so since Corroded Coffin had sprung to fame when their guitarist was accused of murder. 

After the real murderer was caught and Eddie Munson’s name had been officially cleared by the shady looking government types who’d swarmed Hawkins after the fact, the owner of the Hideout was only to happy to let the band start playing again. Any attention is good attention after all. 

It was hard enough to get access to new music in the current day and age , with mothers crying on the news about their poor innocent children being “taken in” by the devil’s music or Preachers at pulpits warning against letting anything ‘impure’ into the home. It didn’t help that in the middle of nowhere Middle America it took longer for new music to reach the record stores and radio stations than it did in the big cities or even Indianapolis itself. 

So there you were standing outside a dive bar in a town you didn’t live in because you’d heard about a show and wanted to see if the band lived up to the hype.

They did. 

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 🎃 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Eddie was grinning from ear to ear after their set, Halloween really was the best night of the year. He’d been a little hesitant, of course, to play to a crowd this big. With the resentment that had built in town for him and by extension the band because of their visible difference from the modern mainstream even before Vecna and the upside down and Chrissy Cunningham, an unlikely comrade in arms who stood firm at Eddie’s side throughout it all and maintained his innocence to anyone who thought otherwise. 

She’d come to see their show along with the rest of the Hawkins Monster Slayers or at least the ones old enough to be in a bar, or who’s fake ID looked convincing enough. She had flung herself at him after stepping off stage and exclaimed about how amazing the gig had been,,

“Eddie that was so cool!” She yelled over the noise of the crowd, “if you guys don’t get signed soon then clearly those big record labels don’t know a good thing when it rocks an entire bar like this!”

“You’re too kind Chris” Eddie laughed wrapping an arm around her middle, trying not to get her shirt wet with his own sweat

There were congratulations from the rest of the assembled group, Jonathan Byers offering to take 'professional' pictures of the band anytime they wanted for their first album cover. Steve Harrington offering his parents money to bankroll anything the band needed,

"They're assholes anyway, the money should go to a good cause" 

Cue Robin Buckley stating that she was the best cause and Steve should give her a thousand dollars so she could 'woo' the girl of her dreams. Nancy Wheeler adding that if the girl in question was only attracted to Robin for her money than she wasn't worth knowing.

Which somehow sparked a debate amongst the boys in the band and the others about what they'd do for money, or who they'd do for money. It was at this point Eddie snuck away for his post show smoke break/adrenaline crash panic attack.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 🎃 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were standing in the parking lot of the hideout shuffling from one foot to the other trying to get some heat into your body. The payphone inside the hideout hadn't been working so you'd had to walk a few blocks to a gas station to use theirs.

You'd hoped to be able to hang out in the gas station for your ride but were told in no uncertain terms if you were there for longer than it took to make your phone call that the store owner would involve the law. Something about the teens in this town not taking advantage of him again. 

You didn't get the time to tell the store owner you weren't from Hawkins before you were all but shoved back out into the cold. So you'd made your way back to the Hideout and commenced the 'keep warm' dance on the frigid October night. 

"Hey, are you ok?" a man's voice called, causing you to snap in the direction of the sound, hoping that you weren't about to be the latest victim of Hawkins' terrible luck. Instead you found yourself looking at one Eddie Munson with a cigarette in his hands, the smoke curling towards the street light above him.

"Oh, yeah, no I'm ok. Thanks" it wasn't that you believed the rumours but you still had no desire to be alone in a deserted parking lot with a strange man you didn't know. The statistics weren't great. 

"If you want to dance you should probably go back inside. Though if you've gotta use the restroom you're probably safer out here, I don't know about the girls room but the guys isn't exactly clean" Eddie laughed,

"I'm just waiting on my ride home" you told him, "they should be here soon" 

"You shouldn't be waiting out here on your own" he said coming closer, "especially not tonight, all the freaks and weirdos are out" 

"I'm fine really, I'm not gonna be here that long anyway" you repeated hoping he'd take the hint

"You're not from Hawkins are you?" Eddie asked with a laugh, "nobody from town would be out here on their own, I mean maybe if they were drunk or high enough" 

Eddie had gotten closer and you'd not realised that for every step he'd taken towards you you'd taken a step backwards, Eddie had noticed though. You could tell from his expression. Which made you feel like a massive asshole,

"No I'm from the next town over, Salem? I just came to the bar tonight for the show. You guys sounded great" you said, taking a step towards Eddie and hoping you didn't come across as a total dick, "it's so hard to hear new music in bumfuck nowhere you know?" 

"Oh yeah for sure, gotta be careful with all that devil's music around these days" Eddie joked crossing himself, "someone ought to think of the children" 

"Oh yes the children, they must be protected from y'know satan and stuff" you nodded seriously before the giggles took over, "oh my god I can't" 

"I'm Eddie" he offered his free hand that wasn't holding the cigarette and you shook it and gave him your name,

"I'm serious though you guys sounded really cool, do you have any demo tapes or anything?" 

"I mean not yet but I'm suddenly seriously considering it" he winked at you making you laugh again, "I mean a pretty girl tells you how cool she thinks your band is changes a lot" 

"I didn't say anything about cool" you teased, "but you're alright" 

Eddie clutched his chest with his free hand and stumbled backwards, groaning and making choking noises,

"I have been mortally wounded" 

"Oh no, whatever will the band do without you?" you asked, "however will they go on without someone so cool?" 

Eddie righted himself and pushed his hair out of his face, grinning broadly. The cigarette had fallen from his hand amongst his theatrics and lay burning softly on the ground, 

"Well would you look at that? I'm cured!" Eddie announced bounding back over to you before blowing some stray locks of hair out of his face, "sorry about that, my hair has a mind of its own and apparently wanted to be included in the conversation" 

You nodded before pulling the scrunchie out of your hair and offering it to him, 

"Well since this is a private conversation why don't you use this to keep the nosiness under control?" 

Eddie accepted the scrunchie gratefully and tied his hair up in a ponytail brandishing the ends with a flourish,

"I really think this is my colour don't you?" he asked shaking the ponytail around, "it's adding extra cool points to my rockstar image" 

You were about to reply when you saw your ride pull into the parking lot, you hadn't even noticed the time going by while you'd been talking, flirting, with Eddie,

"That's my ride so I gotta go but, I'm holding you to that Demo Tape" 

"Well if you're going to hold it over me, but how will I know where to bring the sacred item?" 

You grabbed a pen from your jacket pocket and scribbled your phone number on Eddie's hand, 

"You can call me when it's done. The scrunchie is collateral until then" 

“I guess i’ll see you then” 

“Count on it, Eddie” 

Eddie watched as you got in the car and drove away. He waited until you were out of sight before fist pumping the air, he couldn’t believe what just happened. Chrissy wasn’t going to believe it either when he told her. 

As a matter of fact Eddie immediately turned around and raced back to the stage door of the Hideout and kicked it open,

“Chris, holy fuck” this was too good not to share. 

He had a date. 

[acourtofthought]

Buildup Means Little

Honestly, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what how much buildup anyone thinks two characters have. It doesn't matter how many moments from two books back you think support your endgame ship.

There is buildup for every single pairing around. Tamlin is STILL in love with Feyre as of SF, that's buildup over the entirety of the series and his only goal has ever been to protect Feyre (leading him to make really shitty decisions) but I don't see anyone shouting that they're going to be endgame.

Hell, Feyre was so inappropriate with Lucien in ACOWAR that for half a second I thought SJM was changing her love interest yet again

SJM has proven that characters can be engaged yet end up with someone else. She has proven that the FMC can call the MMC her "home" yet still end up with someone else. She can have one all but confess her love for the MMC only to turn around and give up her virginity to someone else, sleep with many after that then turn around and end up back with the confession of love guy.

So the events of the past, to a pretty major degree, are not all that matters. All that matters is where we're at now.

And as of SF, SJM went out of her way to show us how extremely similar two female characters are only to then demonstrate how only one is going to be the right one for Az.

"I don't need to be coddled. Only spoken to like a person"

"You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta." / "You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to do let me do anything greater." / "I am not a child to be fought over."

Gwyn snorted. "Try me"

Nesta looked at her from under lowered brows again. "Get out of my sight."

Gwyn grinned, a broad, bright thing that showed most of her teeth and made her eyes sparkle in a way Nesta knew her own never had. "Oh you're good." Gwyn turned back to the stacks. "Really good."

"Oh, fuck you," Nesta snapped, and then choked.

Elain blinked. Nesta blinked back, horror lurching through her.

And then Elain burst out laughing.

Howling, half-sobbing laughs that sent her bending over at the waist, gasping for breath. Nesta just stared, torn between questions and wanting to throw herself into the icy Sidra. "I - I'm so sorry-"

Elain held up a hand, wiping her eyes with the other. "You've never said such a thing to me!" She laughed again, "I think that's a good sign, isn't it?

Gwyn was probably good at this. Gwyn was good at everything, actually. It didn't irk her, though. For whatever reason, Nesta wanted to crow about her friend to anyone who'd listen.

- She had purpose, and joy, and friends: those two half-wraiths who worked in Rhysand's household. But those things had always come easily to her sister. Had always made Elain special. Had made Nesta fight like hell to keep Elain safe at all costs.

The priestess had been pretty in the library, but with that joy, that confidence as she aimed for the three priestesses, she had emerged into a beauty to rival Merrill or Mor.

Elain had easily been the prettiest of the three of them, and when she'd been turned High Fae, that beauty had been amplified. Nesta couldn't put her finger on what changes had been wrought beyond the pointed ears, but Elain had gone from lovely to devastatingly beautiful. Elain never seemed to realize it.

"Promise me we'll face it together."

Nesta couldn't stop her tears then. The chill wind froze them on her cheeks. "I promise," she breathed, stroking Gwyn's matted hair. "I promise."

Gwyn sobbed, and Nesta let herself sob with her, squeezing her tightly. Letting her stroking hand come to rest of Gwyn's neck.

A pinch in the right spot, exactly on the pressure point Cassian had shown her, and it was done.

Gwyn went down. Unconscious.

forged over common goals: protect Elain

"The first five months I was at the library, I barely spoke. I didn't sing. I went to the priestess who counsels all of us, and sometimes I just sat there and cried, or screamed, or said nothing.

"Weeks, while you wasted away, refusing food and drink. While you appeared to hope you'd just wither and die."

And when Nesta finished, she braced herself for the disappointment in their faces, the disgust.

Gwyn's hand slid into hers, though.

Nesta was wrong, Cassian realized, to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.

"Because I don't ever want to feel powerless again," Gwyn said softly.

Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, "Using me." / "Find me when you wish to begin". / When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was part of this court

"I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days."

Azriel laughed. "I'll give you that."

"You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..."

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain's mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke."

Silver Flames Gwyn and Silver Flames Elain are basically one in the same, they even have innocent hobbies (bracelet making and baking / gardening). . So why then, is there such difference in how SJM wrote Az responding to each?

Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. / Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

Azriel dipped his head in sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

Wrong - it was so wrong / Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.

He wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend, but....(statement made after knowing Gwyn for a few months and ONLY through training)

He knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars.....(statement made after knowing Elain for 2 years and being able to chat with her whenever he wanted).

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason...he could see it.

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

Still waiting on a scene where Az thinks anything about Elain's happiness.........

And this would be the time where the other side loves to throw in the super classy argument of "well Az hasn't wanted to get down on his knees and taste Gwyn" but people.....it's called RESPECT. He knows her past, he's not treating her like a sexual object (really, the only way he looks at Elain considering he said he hasn't planned anything with her beyond his sexual fantasies). Az looked at Mor with hunger and yearning. Tamlin wanted to have sex with Feyre rather than try to help her escape. He also wanted to sleep with her rather than talking through his problems. Focusing on Az lusting over Elain is really not supporting your defense.

"You'd know if she'd died," Azriel said, pausing hsi work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother's chest with a scarred hand. "Right here - you'd know, Cass." / The shadows deepened around Azriel, his Siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. "You - we - trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It's all we can do.

"There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to"

People will say that Az responds differently because he loves Elain but if the way Az treats Elain is true love, then I don't want it and I don't think SJM wants it either because his behavior towards Elain reads exactly like Tamlin's towards Feyre. It's way too clear that SJM wrote Az having healthy responses to Gwyn because she is the right person for him. The one he thinks is strong all on her own. The one he believes doesn't need his protection. The one he likes for who she is rather than fixating on her as a sexual object.

Also, if Az loves Elain then why did he sulk for 3 days after Solstice and that was the end of it? Why were there no more glances towards Elain? No longing? Why instead was there admiration and amusement for Gwyn? It's been over two years that Lucien hasn't gotten a fulfilled bond with Elain yet he's still struggling and looking at her with longing.

Az was over it in less than a week!

And not only that (and this is what I mentioned above), for all their similarities, SJM really hammered home the important differences, keeping in mind that Az works from the shadows, talks to the shadows, has an icy rage, can torture using a symphony of pain, likes his space and has his found family in the IC.

Gwyn donned the leathers without thought versus Elain refusing them in ACOWAR. She embraced dagger handling and asked for lessons while Elain "walked away and did not look back". SJM made it known that Gwyn is one of Nesta's people while Nesta calls Elain a dog and Feyre calls her only a pleasant companion. And despite Elain claiming that she's part of the NC, it means something that through Cassian, a completely neutral party when it comes to Elain, thinks how the color black (symbolic for the NC) sucks the life out of her while Gwyn came alive while training to become a Valkyrie. Gwyn embraces the night, choosing to stay up late to train, while we know Elain wants sunshine. Gwyn feels most comfortable in the safety of the library, a place full of shadows and away from the bustle of crowds whereas Elain is happiest by sunny windows, watching the liveliness of the city and at balls and parties. Gwyn witnessed Az slaughter an entire group in front of her and plotted / led the beasts to attack the Illyrians while cruelty bothers Elain.

How can buildup (which doesn't actually exist to the level some believe it does) possibly compare to all the new information we've been presented in the most recent book of the series?

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling Chapter 27 Teaser 2

Y'all I am so close on this I promise. I have the last bit to write but the last like 2 or so scenes are really important and I don't want to be half asleep as I write them. THE GOOD NEWS IS I have Monday off work and I'm going to basically get up and finish this, so it'll be up pretty early Monday. Thanks for being patient! I love you guys!

P.S. - Bambi is very bi in this chapter. Like, she's always bi but the bisexuality be bisexualing this time around and anyway here's some queer Bambi history for you.

You’d first noticed Courtney when you were both 13. She was so beautiful you couldn’t help but stare at her. At first, you’d almost resented her. She was good, damn good, and she was full of charismatic smiles and she dusted glitter across her collarbones that peeked out from the top of her costume. She was exactly who your mother wished you were and, as much as you loved bronc and bull and roping, part of you wanted to be who your mother wanted you to be. You wanted to be satisfied with what she wanted for you and you wanted to be happy being who Courtney was so effortlessly. Life would be simpler and happier if you were satisfied with that and Courtney was proof that life existed. And you wanted it. You settled for beating her, for a while. Narrowing your eyes at her when you passed her at competitions, looking her way when you saw your scores narrowly eclipse hers on the board. You loved it. The only thing you wanted more than beating her was her.  Hell if you knew what to do with that.  In hindsight, you weren’t sure she knew, either. The first time she’d said more than two words to you was when you’d smirked at her as you held the first place trophy. You went to the locker room and you had the place almost to yourself, most of the other girls already cleaned out. The third place winner - a girl who’s name you didn’t remember - left and it was just a few seconds later that you heard the door slam into the wall. You looked up to see Courtney stalking over to you. You could see the glitter on her collarbones and her cheeks, her eyes hot and her lips full.  “Want to tell me what the hell your problem is?” She demanded, getting so close to you that you could smell her body spray. It was almost sickly sweet and floral but on her it smelled good. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you hate me so much!”  “I don’t hate you…” you said.  “Could’ve fooled me!” She cut you off.  “Why do you care?” You snapped. “We compete, we’re not friends, who cares if I hate you?”  “I care!” She snapped back.  “Why!”  “Because I like you!” She yelled, breathless. You just blinked at her for a moment as she caught her breath, her eyes drifting to your lips. “I like you and sometimes…”  She didn’t get a chance to finish. Instead, you kissed her.  It was clumsy and deeply uncertain. You’d never kissed anyone before and you had no idea what you were doing, your hands locked tight at your sides as though touching her anywhere at all was against the rules but you were risking it, anyway. Her mouth was warm and soft and it seemed oddly wet even though that made sense when you thought about it.  After a moment you pulled back from her slightly, your eyes wide, not really believing what you’d just done.  “I’m sorry,” you said, your turn to be breathless now. “I… I don’t know…”  “Shut up,” she kissed you that time, pressing you back against the lockers, stretching up to better reach your lips, her body hot on your own. You kissed her back, trying to focus and take in everything. How she tasted, how she smelled, how her costume hugged the slight curve of her waist. 

[mspeevee]

Would it help more to ask you questions so you can vent, or would you prefer comfort? If so, would you prefer reassurance or advice?

I know it's a lot, and I don't want to condenscend. But I do promise that you aren't doing anything wrong by feeling this way. Take as much time as you need <3

i just wish i felt like i was important to my friends enough that i was worth the time i put into them back

i wasn't gonna vent but then i exploded anyways.

the gist is that multiple times now i've felt like i do all this effort, messaging first, making art (i don't do it expecting anything back), sharing my life with people only to receive like, appreciation but not reciprocation. and then i watch them do all of that for other people and i can't help but feel like it's my fault. like i am just so replaceable.

and then when i am hurting so bad i understand they don't know what to say me, hell they prolly have my vent and complaining tags blocked i'm sure, but i feel left to rot and seethe until i fucking hate them. and then i feel bad about it, cuz i don't want to, but i'm so tired of feeling this way every few months. it makes me wish i were dead because i don't see any point in going on if no one genuinely cares if i'm in pain or not. not even a simple "hey im sorry you're going through this but i care". i get ignored. and i feel like it reflects my worth to them.

and rn i can't blame myself for feeling so angry about it too when i feel like i'm bleeding out with their backs turned to me. and maybe that's dramatic but i'm not exactly rational right now anyways so.

and later on i prolly won't blame them or anything, i know this is all because my mental health is bad and my brain tortures me using them against me, but when it happens so often and i feel like i'm finally getting better only for something random to set me off into wanting to stop existing again i'm like, well what's the fucking point??

would they even cry about me for that long? would me leaving leave any impact longer than a week? a month? would they regret not taking every chance i gave them to engage with me? did i deserve their time at all anyways? am i selfish for interpreting continual silence as dismissal?

this applies to literally everything but i cannot blame myself for not knowing how people think when they don't tell me. i can't know if anyone likes my art if they don't like it or reblog it or tell me. i can't know that you told your friends you really enjoyed a post on my blog if that's the only people you told.

and obviously that extends to me, too, how can they know i'm slowly resenting them if i dont say something? but isn't that so cruel of me to mention? isn't it so mean of me to make them feel bad for doing harmless things that just so happen to be used as ammo against me because of my own problems by my own brain? should i just stop making friends? where do i give up here? where do i work on it?

honestly i'd love advice, idk how to cope like this. everything online just says therapy but that's not an option for me. im trying so hard to practice mindfulness and challenging the thoughts but they seem so right and like there's so much "proof". "oh you did all this for your friend but they never did it back but look now they're doing it with this new friend! and it's not the first time either, how many times will you assume you mean as much to them as they do to you."

i wish i wasnt struggling alone. even tho i know i'd just think they're lying if they ever reached out to me at least i would remember they tried when i started to come out of this ditch. but no one wants to try with me anymore, and it's my fault.

[artist-issues]

You inspire me to read into my soul. And what I find frightens me. I know no one has it figured out completely, but man, most people seem more loving than I am. They don't need to try. Sacrifice is second nature. I wish I could love like that, but I am all too willing to express my grievances instead of swallowing them, and I justify it to myself as "oH i'M kEePiNg MySeLf FrOm BeInG rEsEnTfUl." I do what I want. I sing quietly as I go through my day and I play the piano while waiting for orchestra to start. I get a bit snippy with my mom for suggesting I pick a popular thing to do at a talent show instead of something I personally like that's too niche. I'm too easily irritated with my dad in general. Sure, I offer people the last amount of any remaining ice cream or mango balls or HI-CHEW or whatever, and I'll take off my hairtie to give to an engineering group that has to tie a water balloon but lacks rubber bands, and I'll do chores when my parents want and don't usually express annoyance at being interrupted. But overall, I fail at sacrifice where it matters and I don't protect people from myself where I best could. How do you do it? You seem like you do it and you do it well. Yeah, we're all just choosing the good without actually being good, but you seem to choose it fairly often.

I really don’t. I promise I don’t. I’m not naturally self-sacrificial. I talk about it a lot, but anyone can talk about it. The real test is when it’s time to stop writing on your blog and start looking up, engaging the people around you in meaningful conversation, asking them about their lives and giving up your time and energy to serve them.

I’m not a self sacrificial person. Jesus Christ is self-sacrificial. Anytime I genuinely sacrifice something that I could’ve had for the sake of others, it’s because He’s doing it for me, and giving me the strength to choose it.

“For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the working out of the good is not.”

The only person who can change you right down to the bedrock of all your motives is Jesus. Anybody can type about it on tumblr. But only Jesus can help you actually do it.

The answer to the question “how do you do it?” Is “you can’t.” Not on your own. You’re a human. Humans are monsters, naturally. We didn’t used to be at the dawn of the planet, but we are now. But the God of the Bible can teach you how, and when you can’t put His lessons into practice, He’ll help you do it. Like a dad basically carrying a child while “teaching them to walk.” The dad does all the work. If you’ve given your life to God, you agree with Him about your inability to be self-sacrificial on your own. Then you ask Him to help change you. Then you do what He says to do, even if you don’t feel like it. And He’ll handle the rest. Christians call it “believe, confess, repent, step out in faith.” But that’s basically what it is. That’s all I’ve got for you: He’s all you need.

(also tell your engineering group that they can tie water balloons without rubber bands, you just need like a pencil or a thin stick or a pinky finger if your fingers are very skinny, and then you can tie it like you would normal balloons. )

[mitskook]

a very mitskook 2023 wrap-up

hi everyone

so i didn't write very much in 2023, that much is apparent. now i'm not gonna sit here act like that's a massive loss considering the vast amount of extremely talented writers that produced wonderful work this year, but i am still disappointed in myself from, i guess, a labour of love perspective. i look at the work i have contributed to the fandom over the years and i still have more i want to add, more stories i want to tell (trust me the wip folder makes me weep too).

but every time i wanted to write, the idea of making a love story made me so miserable i had to scrub it from my head. and worse, when i pushed past that obvious discomfort, the love in those stories soured into resentment, rage, and a cruelty i couldn't justify (to this audience at least). particularly with tsdverse, this next installment is about m'boys really grappling with conflicts that have no easy answers (if they have answers at all) and man am i so fucking glad i wrote that flashforward with heejin to keep a north star on where they would end up because if i hadn't, i would've completely shattered them in a misdirected fireball of righteous grief. im glad i had that to hold on to bc i haven't had much else.

my 2023 has been. uh. trying amongst the good stuff (and i promise there was some good stuff) but not this. my mum had a heart attack, i was fired for not coming back to work straight after her surgery, and i was couch surfing and unemployed for long enough i felt like i'd wrecked my life forever. and, of course, i was mourning my relationship that ended at the end of last year, and to be honest i'm still not done with that. that's the absolute joy and misery of tying your heart to someone you're hoping will be around forever: your eyes don't see anything the same anymore, certain songs that come on shuffle make you break down on the tube, you realise huge swathes of your social media presence, including ao3, were built for one person and it wasn't you, and now? all those things are monuments to the emptiness you feel every time you remember they're not in your life anymore.

to be extremely clear, i'm not blaming my ex for these feelings, and if anyone harasses them on my behalf i will personally hunt you down and gut you with a knitting needle, but in missing them as much as i do i realised how inextricable they were from my writing process. i mostly wrote fic to make them happy, to hear their praise and notes and excitement to read the rest, and that was unfair on everyone; me, them, and you (if you look forward to my work, i don't wanna presume lmao). that's too much pressure to put on someone who just wasn't interested in bangtan rpf anymore, and that's normal, it's okay to move on from that, but it meant even before the breakup i didn't know who i was doing it for anymore. that level of directionlessness (<- not a word but whatever) gummed up those creative gears until they had no choice but to stop.

anyway to maybe cap this pity party a bit, i want to start sharing my writing more on here, and i won't wait for people to clamour to let me know that that's wanted bc again, i need to start rebuilding my confidence in my writing and feeling out where i fit into this community after basically silently moping around for a full year. i want to sincerely thank everyone who's ever read my work. i won't promise to do anything but my best, and in the meantime i'll give all the snippets to you.

lots of love

zeeb "hyperlight" mitskook

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

minesweeper

the confidence I woke up with today is spent

I don't remember spending it either

I'm blinded again and everything I've tried doing

won't lift the veil or shine any light

I trusted everything and now I'm in the dark

completely alone in a crystal room with only fears to talk to

a tarot reader told me of a vision where

my angels were literally holding me down

twisting the knife into a wound I refused to see

asking for help is so fucking hard for me

and even when I broke and begged out of

a desperation I could feel swallowing me

still they turned away and blamed me for struggling

even now I can't imagine someone looking at me

and seeing anything but a silly greedy creature

I know it's not true and I'm trying to bleed it out of me

with tears and journaling and all my tools

I don't know how to live life without coping

where my heart space should be glowing green

I just feel an ugly sort of burning hunger

maybe the little match girl died finally in winter

asking for comfort is a burden I don't want to impose

on anyone because eventually they stop seeing me

I'm a victim of the death curse again

their eyes are blank and they see right through me

I don't exist anymore and I'm so confused

you loved me yesterday and now you don't see me

why am I so easy to throw away?

why do I feel like my love is so embarrassing?

why couldn't I inspire you to stay?

I know it's not about me but shit it's so cold again

I'll burn whatever I have to to feel warm again

I'll survive but sometimes I don't want to

disappointment is a familiar sadness to me

but I'm trying to get a grip on my disgust

I was never allowed to be disgusted

I was forced to say yes even when I wanted to

rip my own skin off rather than touch them

I was told to be grateful when I said something

didn't match my preferences or desires

I want so desperately believe in something

all I ever wanted was to trust and have it stay close

I've been deceiving myself my whole life

I was never taught how to trust myself

so I numbed myself into compliance

and today I'm waking up to how tightly I have to

clench my fists when I'm in his presence

I imagine myself as dark phoenix sending cyclops to dust

the first song he wrote and sang to me

talks about tapping into my wealth

ironic, since the marriage I'm walking quietly away from

left me in utter financial ruin and the injustice

of it twists my stomach into nausea

it took him three years to take off his mask

I can't believe how fucking stupid I was

am I just going to fuck everything up like always?

I swear I care I just... feel so hopeless

I have nothing to offer and my love is glitiching

between timelines and can't find anything to grasp

you don't even have to pull me with you just

tell me my presence makes something worthwhile

my shadow confidence is melting because I don't

really need it anymore where I'm going

but right now on this hypersurface plane of the present

right now I know why it's the calling of the grave

that creates the force of gravity

I feel all my ancestors and past versions of myself

spiraling all around me and screaming their rage

as they all get sucked into some light in the center

you don't have to hold on to things to remember them

divinity please liberate me from all this deep resentment

every situation was a lesson and I learned them

I promise I learned them can I just be safe now?

just for awhile because my strength is missing feathers

the aerodynamics are off and I know likely

tomorrow will be better and I'll have something

to be grateful for and delight over and...

god it hurts tonight and nothing is working

telling people that it hurts only gives them more weaponry

to use later when they don't like my answer

I grit my teeth and communicate when I can

no songs soothing no portals to see other worlds rewarding

just me alone in the dark hugging my knees

rocking and humming in candlelight

surrender feel release

surrender feel release

what if the only thing I ever wanted

decides randomly to go away again

I can't keep myself tethered to pain

no matter how madly and desperately I love it

can you just promise not to go away

haven't I proved myself in all kinds of roles

why don't I love people right?

how do you love people right?

why am I always too much?

my intensity could be so awesome

my passion could be used in so many ways

fuck, I really am afraid of everything

just me and my cyan ghost against the world

please forgive my faithlessness

my soul is weak please forgive me

all I've ever learned from love is how

to shoot someone who outdrew you

I wrote poetry to dry the well of your memory

but then found you in every song I sang

to rivers and trees and places where everyone

could hear me but not know who glowed in my heart

I made so many mistakes and I don't know

why anyone would want to take care of me

it hurts so fucking much to heal

alone in the void again but at least I have

all the friends I made out of my favorite tears

let it all flow and pass through me

hold the agonizing symphony

between breaths I want to share

then release slowly into arms I know want to hold me

I know but I can't quite yet believe

and that could be because my physical body

knows intimately the impatience of a drumming heart

I release and I release and I release

[obsolete-stars-if]

Yeah you fully intended to depress the shit out of me with this chapter omg my poor MC. 😭

Spoilers semi... I need to rant. Sorry.

Okay let me try to be an adult about this. I loved the update. I usually love your writing but this chapter fully hit me with so many emotions. I think MC didn't have much time to fully process everything since chapter 1. We've kind of been thrown to the sharks and made to sink or swim (hey we just had sea travel if i don't use that I'd be stupid) the journey was long and although We've rested along the way they've never truly just been able to be alone. So this chapter when we had that omg the reality of it all settling it, the abandonment, the resentment, the helplessness woah it hit me so that trigger warning is very warranted.

Even having all of our companions nothing could be done because ultimately we are still alone, so different but the same. Tarik still being a massive dick making my poor mc feel like shit for trusting him and that talk with Samuel broke my heart.

I'm however excited to properly talk to Mikhail though you calling him a wimp made me laugh. Also confused on who the super scary dude is. His relative I'm assuming from the description

This was perhaps my favorite chapter. The writing was exceptional. It truly was. ♥️

PS the fuck around and find out note made me laugh so hard and unexpectedly my daughter hit me with her rattle.. so I have a possible rattle concussion. Thanks for that 😑

Thank you so much for the ask. It really keeps me going you have no idea.

Talking about semi spoilers down the cut

The mc absolutely has been not been able to process any of it, and now that you are there and actually have a breather to process,,, you will have many emotions. And a lot of those emotions you get to finally express and release in the next few chapters, and that can be very unhealthy too, or you can keep letting it eat you up.

Mikhail knows that this marriage is forced, and I call him a wimp BCS i am giving you the option unhealthily process your emotions with being angry and mean to him. They won't do much about it since they are aware of the situation u r in and that this might be the only way to let it out. And obv he'd rather have you be angry at him than anyone else who doesn't have control over it like your companions.

TK does have their motives to act the way they do, and you will learn about it, esp in near chapters, since there will be... A lot coming towards everyone.

Also the whole dog thing, I was playing nice chapter, these dogs are bred and train to hunt humans, so.... Act like prey, and you'll be hunted down. And I'm holding not back the next chapters, so you will actually get physically harmed if u think running down the halls is a good idea.

But there's also fluff coming up. Getting to know Mikhail (he cares so much about u and wants to be ur friend), and you get the answer who that scary dude is very soon, I promise. (Don't call Mikhail a bastard he might cum)

[sovaghoul]

I wrote this several years ago for another platform. I thought I'd improved. Apparently not, because I now felt the need to dig it up. This is NOT aimed at anyone in specific, but is the result of some recent interactions. I'm not calling anyone out but myself.

I'm feeling really insecure and depressed and other sorts of negative things right now. I just want to ask one favor.

If I ever say anything, in a post, comment, DM, wherever, that upsets or offends you; or comes across as thoughtless or otherwise insensitive or hurtful in any way; even if you suspect it may be a misunderstanding or miscommunication, or just the result of tone not translating into text very well; please, please, PLEASE bring it to my attention. Don't let it fester and eat at you until you resent me for it. Please tell me I've hurt you and I promise, I'll apologize and do my best to explain what I actually inteded to say. Because I also promise I will never say something intentionally meant to hurt any of you. I don't always realize how I might come across, likely due to probably being on the spectrum. That's a reason, not an excuse. I still will own any damage I cause.

I've lost friends because of this lack of communication. I don't want it to happen again. Please never assume that I intend to be mean-spirited or disparaging or judgmental or anything like that. I just sometimes fail at expressing myself properly. I forget to use tone indicators sometimes because I am an old lady on the internet. I try to be very mindful, but if I slip, I hope you can tell me. It hurts very much to be misunderstood, especially when a simple, honest conversation could have cleared everything up.