#anyway. hopefully you get me. its not a judgement on you and youre always totally allowed in your own life to fuck around and

[blackvahana]

Thankyou for answering my question about mindscapes and mental spaces. A follow up question:

How would one go about creating a portal from your mindscape to the astral then? You mention ‘birthing’ it of sorts, would that be a lengthy process? If I don’t set up a portal, can I still make like a temporary one?

The last question is, people mention having homes and pocket spaces in the astral, is this the same as mental space but in the astral, how does one go about obtaining an owned space in the astral that they can alter and change like a mindscape.

Sorry for the lengthy ask, I appreciate your time 💙

No problem at all! Hope it helps, and I'll try to answer this best I can.

I think... it's important first and foremost to solidly understand the difference between the two, and what both feel like.

The issue with answering questions like these is that... well. Look at magic on this plane: One person's answer to "how do you curse" would be rotting froth sea water and whispered sea goddess curses, and another's would be to write their name on fire and burn it. One, both, or neither - more likely neither - is going to suit the person asking especially if say the person asking is a nature witch. Well, they could make it work, both saltwater and fire strangle nature, but... The ways to get things done naturally involve pushing your own self and elements to the cliff between you and the world at large, and another persons way of pushing themselves is probably not going to be yours - especially because elementally, energetically, we all have very different selves

That... Is amplified in the Astral. This is why I sort of... have a "dont teach people unless its in person and in a way I can possess and give visions to directly show" - part of why I made my realm lmfao. I can give you a basics rundown answer to your questions, but its not really... its not like giving baking steps where we both have flour and both have cups and both have ovens

the Basic answers are: yeah. First and foremost practice getting a solid grip on what is astral and what is mental. both exist in the same ALL/universe, like fire and oil, disparate but transmutable into one another if you know how to rearrange atomic structures and... many other things. or you could just set fire to the oil lmfao. Anyway.

Birthing the portal: When you grasp both astral and mental, it's important to understand the link. This can be done through existing in the astral and trying to manifest things, taking thought and idea and weaving it into reality. In the astral, you believing you can fly wont make you be able to like what happens in the mental, to birth wings out of yourself you need to stitch thought with substance. You need to give reality programming - which means you need to be able to grasp reality and walk the path between mental and real.

It's... yeah. hard to explain to someone if theyre not already used to portal work (maybe you are! Im just presuming a baseline level of understanding because i dont want to miss any important details). But the idea is... there is a point where the mental and astral touch. There is mental in the astral. The mental - referencing for a second how i talked about reality shifting and mindspaces and such - is very... accepting of programming. The key issue though is that if you programme "a door to the astral" in the mental without actually literally linking it to the astral, you'll end up with "a door to the astral" that takes you to a simulated astral reality. Thats why i say understanding what the astral feels like and the differences is key

The idea is... to birth a nothing. The astral compared to the mental is a lack of mental. Theres a phrase that Hermes impressed on me with great importance lmfao regarding the mental: "Do not assign features to it." This is essentially saying... just that, if you assign it personhood it will become a person. If you assign it reality it will become real. If you assign it a doorway itll become a door - and you will still be interacting with unreality, just now with a mask. But if you grasp both mental AND astral, and use their shared elements, you can birth a point in reality rather than the mind where... the mental gives way into externality

its. yeah. Its rough to explain. You basically want to create a place where the mental stops having a say in things, and you want to create that in the mental, which means you dont want to Create anything you want to more so make your mindspace a sighing body with you as the breath.

Is it a lengthy process? No, it can take place in an instant if you know what youre doing - Ill say when you know what youre doing because it genuinely is just a matter of practice and getting familiar with the two things. It can happen in an instant because mindspace is... extremely reactive, and mental creation can happen even backwards in time - you could have a portal to the outside thats built by your future self lmfao

I just. would recommend really to leave this kind of thing and just try more so to project or bilocate. The reason I have a portal in my mindspace is uh. it actually goes to the sky in mongolia, which it to say the gelatinous-crystalline window in between God and Creation, which is why the portal exists in the first place. Its way easier - and better for the brain to avoid becoming confused - if one just projects from real to real aka physical to astral - the portal is specifically uh. theres a psychological benefit to going from unreal to real wrt this portal specifically

Yes, you absolutely can make a temporary one! To be honest as much as this might sound counterintuitive, i think its actually both easier (that parts not counterintuitive) and more effective to make a temporary one. Itd be way easier to skirt the mentals tendency to take on the properties of the external (as in to stop it from making a pretend portal outwards) by making it temporary and purely for utility. The mental would probably react more "yes on it boss ill collapse and invert" if you arent trying to forge something mental.

Homes and pocket spaces... I personally - just so we're on the same page, you dont have to agree w this use of the word or use the words like this - i see pocket realms/spaces and realms proper differently. Not even based on size, but function. Effectively.... Theres more types of spacetime than atomic, realms are their own sort of... realities with their own spacetime, pocket realms/pocket spaces are... specifically sort of... uh. Realms are dresses, pocket realms are pockets on those dresses. Dens under trees, in that they tuck into spacetime thats tucked into spacetime

Its definitely possible to realm weave or pocket space weave. I.... im gonna be honest I wont recommend it at all before one's familiar with astral-mental spectrum things. Specifically if you cant tell with pretty high certainty when somethings mental youll probably end up weaving a mental realm which. is. devastating or can be. its devastating to find out your entire territory, people you know and love, and so on are all masks of the mental lmfao ie nonexistent. part of why i want to shoo people away from reality shifting before they have a huge grasp on the mental and the "reality" creation function.

Theres several ways to do it though. My realm is actually woven through... what im going to call gateworking, and chronomancy. Using reality itself as a system of gates, utilising my aspect of the fabric of spacetime to stitch a pattern on my own fabric.... insert one of my selves answering to Yog-Sothoth here, I Am That Which Is And Is Not. Knowledge/data/code-weaving and shit. this is to say that my own experience is. not. going to be applicable to everyone. Ive seen others weave tapestries, or plant seeds in the folds of reality, but at that point you need to know how to programme thread and seed.

I think seeds are... not necessarily the easiest method (realmweaving a stable realm beyond a mental flimsy movie set of a place is already not easy lmfao) but i find them actually the most intuitive type of magic to teach others - as in someone brought it up and im like "huh, yeah, thats good actually". But... then you need to know legitimisation and shit. The process (in my eyes) would be programming a seed, slipping it between the cracks of non-spacetime where theres a necessary gap and set of substances, and "watering" it - this is a good method because it allows the ability to grow something one cant more consciously guide and grow and allows magic to spread virulently into a self-sustaining realm...

But - you specifically asked how one may obtain one... I would really just suggest getting a realmweaver to make you one or... making a claim on someone else's territory lmfao. Obviously that last one is a human social faux pas at best, horrifically selfishly violent at worst, but look. we gore others for their territory all the time over there lmfao

Either way... im sure theres more beginner guides to making these things? But... I genuinely dont recommend beginners get in on this. I kinda do, Ive said before and Ill say it again that for certain species (fae especially, and I am part Void Fae so that checks out) its a third function like growing ones own body and conceiving/growing a child, and... people have a right to their own bodily functions without having to be super knowledgeable on shit

however... theres so much that can go wrong that its... it is possible to grow a realm/pocket reality without -

actually. hold a minute. I hate when people presume competence and skill levels over text. I need to actually clarify what Im talking about here because Im not presuming youre "just some lousy beginner haha im soooo much better than you" type shit I loathe that. So specifically: Im presuming you dont have access to libraries of information in the astral with records of realmweaving + what realms are + the differences between mental and astral, i presume you havent been brought through testing learning by spirits to show you the differences between mental and astral, and i presume you dont have the ability to talk with spirit teachers to have them guiding you along the process... Which is all absolutely possible to get, its just this is basically the level I would suggest being at before realmweaving, and uh. when youre at that level - hence why i presume you arent - generally you learn from those means rather than tumblr. Meant totally neutrally here, i still learn shit from tumblr (and hey i mean clearly im ON tumblr im typing on it right now, this isnt a bad thing)

The dangers specifically are just... Hermes' warnings were specifically about the Mental and oh my god did he impress that on me and boy do i get why. The astral? Worst thing you can go through is probably for the average person being hunted down and having your family slaughtered in front of you and then being killed and having to come back to your body and live with it. Worst thing on average for that same person mentally? Ohhhhh fucking boy. way worse. You could go through all that and have to cope with it not being real - or never find out it wasnt real, and then keep going through it, and then start becoming psychotic irt hallucinations, and then completely lose yourself, lose your ability to interact w any reality, etc. the Mental is..... If you lose your body, you still have your mind. If you lose your mind, you have nothing - and youre still forced to live through having nothing, because if you cant sever your connection to your reality because youre no longer able to tell what reality is... its fucked! Mental is extremely dangerous lmfao

Dont take this as discouragement. Chemicals in a lab can do horrible fucking things to you and fuck you up for life, but you can learn chemistry quite easily if you just. take the steps to do it lmfao. Same with this, skill here is just. learning to navigate risks. Also honestly if you do fuck around to find out you probably wont have anything hugely awful happen, its just... when you get stuck in the mental and cant tell the difference between simulated reality and the mental - which are, 100%, indistinguishably, identical because we perceive reality through the mental, the feeling of and experience of "real" is a mental function uh. anyway

[sundayswiththeilluminati]

The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage? 

Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.

The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.

Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.

Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.

All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.

By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!

And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.

None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

[navegandoaciegas]

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

-

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

-

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out,  peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

-

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

-

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

-

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, don’t be shy, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲

[emiefaunwrites]

headcannon requests? ell, if you havent already, how did meeting their parents go? (either the leon or ishimaru family, your choice)

Hello! Thank you for your ask and also for the follow!!

SUPER LONG POST ALERT...

So I've already done meeting the Kuwata's as below:

I was also planning on saving meeting Takaaki until the Broken Arrow update (but thats miles away and will probably change from my original plan anyway). So I'll do it here for now and expand/change how it goes when I eventually get there in BA.

I'm basing the school years on the British format (since it's what I know). Sorry if that makes no sense...hopefully should though!

I hope you enjoy this! Thank you so much again!

********************

• Unlike Leon, who doesn't tell his parents about his relationship with Taka for a few months, Taka tells his dad almost immediately.

• The concept of negative opinions towards an openly gay relationship doesn't even cross Taka's mind so he has no concern that his father will react badly.

• Of course, Takaaki has no problem with it at all.

• He had a suspicion for a while that his son was attracted to men (what with how he would gush about his 'friend' Leon at every given opportunity with a look in his eye that he only ever saw when he looked at his wife) so it wasn't really a shock when it finally happened.

• But the object of Taka's affection was a surprise - he never imagined his son to fall for someone so...colourful.

• Nevertheless, he tried not to pass judgement based on appearances alone - he would need to meet the boy that stole his son's heart before he could form any true opinion.

• And that's how Leon got invited over to the Ishimaru household for dinner one weekend over the Autumn half term (three months after Takaaki finds out they're together).

• Taka is THRILLED and bursts into Leon's room as he's packing to go home to announce it.

• Leon, on the other hand, is TERRIFIED.

• Firstly, Taka's dad is a cop. That's the most frightening job EVER.

• Second, he's NEVER met anyone's parents before. Sure, he's been in relationships before but he's always bailed before things got too serious.

• Lastly, LOOK AT HIM! He doesn't exactly look like boyfriend material and he starts to panic that Mr Ishimaru will judge him on his appearance before he has a chance to prove himself.

• But he doesn't let that show - agreeing to coming over and receiving the biggest smile in return (which almost makes him forget how nervous he is).

• It's tonight that Leon has to tell his parents he's in a relationship.

• Not because he wants to. He'd rather have hidden his sexuality from them for as long as possible.

• But because he has to ask his dad for help and to borrow some of his clothes to make a good first impression.

• He showers (twice), puts on his dad's (too big) shirt, sweater vest and brown trousers, tries (and fails) with a bowtie so has to get his mum to help and finally tries (and succeeds to a certain degree) to tame his hair after automatically styling it straight out of the second shower without thinking it through.

• His mum offers to drive him but Leon refuses - needing time to collect his thoughts alone so decides to catch the train.

• It isn't a long walk from the station to Taka's house but Leon is so nervous that by the time he's arrived, he's sweating bullets - thank GOD he put on double the amount of deodorant and some of his dad's aftershave!

• He's so worried that Mr Ishimaru will be the one to open the door that he's totally rigid when it does swing open after he knocks. But to his relief, it's only Taka.

• Taka - who's wearing fairly casual clothes (for him at least) and the biggest smile - doesn't notices how nervous his boyfriend is as he pulls him into the house for a quick tour.

• Leon can barely think as they go because he keeps glancing around for Mr Ishimaru - practising his manners in his mind over and over.

• So when it turns out he isn't home from his shift yet, Leon isn't sure whether its good or bad news that he has to wait longer.

• They take a seat in the living room, Taka trying to make small talk while Leon keeps glancing nervously at the door whenever he hears a car pass or a door slam.

• 'Are you okay?'

• 'Y-yeah.'

• 'You look nervous.'

• 'I just...I really want your dad to like me.'

• It's not exactly a secret - Leon's reputation of being a 'ladies man'. Even in the article about his recruitment to Hope's Peak, there was a snide comment about it. He's sure Mr Ishimaru's dad has done research on him and if THAT'S the first impression his boyfriend's dad has of him...

• When the door finally opens, Leon isn't sure whether to jump to his feet or sink lower into the cushions - but he ends up standing when Taka grabs his hand to pull him up.

• 'Good evening, father! I hope you had a good day at work! This is Leon - my boyfriend!'

• Holy shit - Taka's dad is HUGE! He might even be taller than Oogami, and SHE'S huge!

• And he looks JUST LIKE TAKA! Except older and more tired and very much less cheerful and oh God he's scary...

• Oh shit oh shit oh shit he's looking at him and Leon's just stood there staring...

• 'H-hello, Mr Ishimaru, sir. I...I'm Leon Kuwata. I-it's a pleasure to meet you.'

• The poor guy's voice is shaking just as much as he is and to hide how pale his face is going with nerves, he drops into a bow (because subconsciously he remembers how Taka greets people and probably figures its what his dad expects).

• Takaaki has to fight the urge to laugh at the terrified boy in front of him that's clearly put in a lot of effort to smarten up - he needs to keep the 'scary father' act up as long as he can, after all!

• After a comically and deliberately tense greeting in response, the boys are excused until dinner - and Leon has to stop himself from running.

• Taka can see through his father's act (only because he was looking right at him as his lips quirked into a smile at Leon's bow) so tries to comfort his now doubly nervous boyfriend.

• 'You did great!'

• 'I BOWED! I've never bowed in my life!'

• 'It was cute!'

• 'I WASN'T TRYING TO BE CUTE!'

• During dinner, Leon is on his best behavoiur - so much so that he can barely eat without thinking about how his body is moving and hoping he isn't coming across as disrespectful.

• Taka dominates the conversation, much to both Takaaki and Leon's relief, talking about school (obviously) and bigging up Leon's achievements.

• Leon tries to keep his eyes down at all times because he can feel Mr Ishimaru's eyes on him and he might just cry if he looks up.

• That is until Taka heads out to clean the dishes, leaving him alone with Taka's dad with no option to interact.

• He tries small pleasantries, sweaty hands wringing nervously under the table while he tries to smile without looking frightened (and failing hard at that).

• Takaaki, who's thoroughly enjoying it, finally decides to put the poor boy out of his misery.

• 'Look, kid. I know about your past relationships with women. It's not exactly a secret, is it? And I know you're worried about what I think about that. But to be honest, the only thing I care about is whether or not you truly care about my son and that you won't hurt him. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that?'

• Leon is stunned into silence. But eventually he finds his voice and answers:

• 'I would never hurt him. He's the best thing to ever happen to me.'

• With that, Takaaki finally smiles.

• 'That's all that matters.'

• The rest of the evening goes by so much smoother - Leon's more relaxed, Takaaki's more talkative and Taka's just his normal self.

• And when Leon's heading home, Takaaki holds out his hand for a handshake.

• 'You're welcome anytime, Leon.'

• (Bonus scene - during their chat, Taka was listening from the kitchen and had to stop himself from crying with happiness.)

[anxiousdepressedintrovert]

Otome Thursday

IT’S BRAM!!!!

Y’all, you have no idea how excited I was for this route/series to start. I wasn’t a big fan of Ravi.

ANYWAY

Bram Route

Episode 1 (The free one 😉)

-I really dig the beginning of the route.

-Like a land hidden from even the Elves? Nice

-Also also, I like that this series, Love and Legends, AND Reigning Passions all take place in the same universe and it makes sense. Unlike the more modern series where the crew just sticks characters in the stories to say “Hey, look, notice these characters”

-Sorry. I’m ranting

-Focusing now

-I named my MC Mari Rya

-She’s beautiful

-She’s got a little, sprite/fairy/thing named Ness

-I love them

-I only know the name of the new land because I played the Ravi short but it’s called Tallav

-Mari’s got a reputation as a researcher.

-But this is also a lifelong dream of hers.

-Ness doesn’t speak (what I’m going to call) English, but Mari understands her anyway

-Ness uses They/Them pronouns. RESPECT IT

-Magic time!

-Ness magic time!

-Mari can feel all the living things. I feel like that’s not a human thing.

-But I will reserve judgement

-She’s had a rune stone since she was a baby. Yeah, she’s def not human.

-Holy shit a bear!

-…with a shield and a spear on it’s back.

-Subtle

-The way these sprites move are fucking hilarious

-Mari said “Nope not today”

-Can’t out run a bear. What does this bitch do?

-Drop down to play dead. Cause that’s totally gonna stop a bear from chewing on your spleen

-the “bear” is able to turn her over to her back (duh)

-it turns into a man and…oh what a man

-this CG is so fucking cute!

-he’s like “Is she alive?”

-She’s like “the fuck is he doing?”

-I’m like “Squeeeee they’re both so stupid rn”

-Oh those eyes…

-I haven’t been this in love since Razi. Or Renzei.

-Oh no! headbutt. Gives me a headache just reading it.

-Fuck look at those abs.

-LVS really knows what they’re doing with these character designs

-And Mari’s being thirsty too. It’s not just me

-Whew chile, the way she describes this man. Girl,

-Thank you, Ness, someone has their head on properly

-Never mind. They’re just as thirsty

-I still wanna know how Mari can talk to them

-He knows she’s a human cause she’s wearing clothes. Good lord this series is gonna be a riot in the first couple seasons

-Oh Mari…you’re sounding very Colonizerish

-I don’t like that

-Though it is kinda cute how she nerds out

-I can see her doing this with any thing she comes across.

-Thank you, Ness. Time and Place Mari!

-Invasive is one word for it

-Not much to write.

-She’s gushing. He’s listening. They’re both hot

-oh no, not an eyebrow lift!

-from both of them!

-I can’t do this.

-This bitch just walks away from a question ‘cause she got caught staring!

-I can’t! This is me. Running away from all my problems

-Bram follows cause, y’know, stranger in the woods

-Bram likes Ness. It’s adorable

-Anthropologist=Skald? Maybe.

-Apparently rune reading is impossible, so is befriending a Puck (Ness)

-Mari is def not a human. At least not fully

-See, I feel like if she showed Bram the rune stone she carried with her, that would help bridge this gap.

-But y’know. Whatever.

-Oh they are two bull-headed people

-He’s got (understandable) prejudices against humans/bipeds

-She’s like “MY RESEARCH”

-I’m like “Girl, they’re living people. Respect their boundaries. And Dude, Learn a little”

- She’s very forceful with the fact that she ‘needs to do her research’

-It’s very Colonizerish and I don’t approve.

-Mari, You can’t prove that the Duke who hired you only wanted you to do pure research.

-Ha, Bram called her pretty

-Ohhh Mahuwin Villiage

-Cue Victor from Underworld: “YOU MUST BE JUDGED!!”

-damn he called her insidious

-Mari…honey. Going to a village, you’ll get to see how they live and see how the justice system works. Calm down.

-Of course, no one’s ever been so unwelcoming. You’ve been dealing with other humans and elves.

-Girl!

-I’m judging you so hard rn

-Whew chile that took a lot outta me

Episode 2

-Awww I do feel bad for Ness tho

-They’re scared too

-Bruh, Bram JUST said he doesn’t know what an anthropologist is. You barely related it to a Skald. Showing him your notes means nothing.

-Bram, dude, I get you’re supposed to protect but you’re seeing enemies in the wrong people. Though I get why you’d suspect her.

-The Dinae have no secrets between their tribes (I’m assuming) so there’d be no need for an anthropologist to go looking for old history.

-Also he called her cute (again)

-Ohkay. I draw the line at you accusing Mari of torturing Ness.

-Only a heartless monster would lay hands on Ness.

-I need you to think baby: WHYY WOULD NESS STAY? If Pucks are magical creatures, surely you don’t think that Ness would be foolish enough to stay with a powerless human.

-Oh. Don’t make me insult your intelligence

-Oh don’t make me

-Mari. Don’t do anything stupid. Please. He’s actually being nice. In a weird way. Taking you to be judged. Someone else would’ve just killed you

-Mari…you can’t do your job in someone else’s country without permission. To get permission, you need to go to a village.

-I’m starting to question your intelligence

-Oh good. The bull-headedness is back

-No shit it’s more than just a job! I think you would have gathered that from the fact that to enter Tallav you had to pass a BEAR statue

-Oh no not the sad face

-I know LVS is gonna use that face to get money out of me in future scenes

-Mari, you’re both stubborn. And if I had it my way, you’d’ve gone with him already

-MARI! HE’S NOT A SOLDIER!

-ARUGH

- Not the type of roleplay I thought I’d be reading in this story but sure. Have some hearts

-I wanna smack her so bad and the first season’s not over yet.

-Usually the urge to smack doesn’t kick in until at least season 2.

-She’s a record setter

-Uh oh Bram, you called her an interrogator.

-And he STILL doesn’t fix it!

-They’re both so rude

-Ok, so he gets the why.

-We’re making progress

-This woman can’t let her thirst rest for five minutes.

-I mean same but come on

-Ah! Progress on both sides!

-Still don’t like how forceful Mari is about her job. How would she feel if her job put people in danger?

-You kinda did Mari. You kinda did say “I’m going to do what I want anyway”

-Not in those exact words but enough

-My point!

Bram: You ever think that if we wanted to be bothered by any kingdoms, we would have officially contacted them

That’s my point

At the same time, Bram and his fellow Dinae have their fellow prejudice against bipeds. As I said, mostly justified but they act that they can’t adapt or change

-Mari, interest isn’t always flattering…we aren’t in high school

-Now she’s running away. From a guy that can turn into a bear

-I’m very much questioning her intelligence now.

-Cause she dumb dumb.

-And thus begins an infuriating game of human and bear

-Oh yeah Mari, cause you can totally break the hold of a guy WHO CAN TURN INTO A BEAR

-As Mari is kicking and screaming, Bram: Am I hurting you?

-LMFAOOOO

-Awww Ness trying to help.

-Bitch. He puts you down and you climb a tree. Like bears don’t climb trees?

-Thank you Ness for talking some sense into this stupid girl

-Why is she so defensive?!

-Why can’t they just give me the option of “Fine.” FOR ONCE

-Seriously Mari? If you had stumbled upon a village during your wandering that really HATED humans, the chances of them killing you are SUPER fucking high. Doing it this way is arguably a lot safer

-YO  WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!

-That looked like a swamp deer  monster from It Lives Beneath

-FUCK THAT

-RUN BITCH…FUCKING RUUUNNNN

-Why is run never an option when we are clearly outmatched?

-Oh god why does it have to look at the screen!!!

-I don’t like that

-and ewwwww they did detail on the muscles

-Yeah no shit it’s targeting Mari, Bram!

-I think that’s pretty obvious!

-Thank again Ness for saving One Stupid Bitch

-We…we get to RIDE Bram?

-I can (and will) make so many jokes about that

-I’ve already restrained myself from making Bear jokes. So, you’ll deal with that

Episode 3

-Hehehehehehehhehe

-We rode him

-Hopefully this won’t be last time

-and the next time won’t be in bear form

-Ohkay. I’m back. The chapter’s loaded

-Wait one more

-And we can use that rope for something else too

-Idk how to do the lenny face so……just imagine it

-Ok. NOW I’m done.

-Finally, a decent option. THANK YOU, BRAM

-Yeah Mari get that through your thick fucking skull. He’s a defender. He defends.

-Awwww Bram isn’t comfortable with praise. I’m gonna take every opportunity to do it now

-Mari, this is why we don’t talk shit up.

-Hehe still riding him

-Ewww that thing is back.

-Plus side?

-FIGHT SCENE

-Oh nooooo Bram’s hurt

-MARI CONTROL YOUR THIRST THE MAN IS INJURED

-Thank you, Ness! I swear they’re the only character I haven’t been pissed at

-Mari begins to nerd out over plants. Honestly same

-OMG HIS BLUSH

-GUYS. HIS BLUSH

-The stuff of nightmares was an Abberation. I like my name better so it and all its freaky brethren will be called The Stuff of Nightmares

-And Bram’s back to being suspicious. Sigh. And we were having such a nice time

-The Dinae don’t have pets and that’s the saddest thing I’ve read all day.

-Mari just realized that Bram’s been naked this entire time.

-Lol

-Oh so, if Bram trusted Mari, he’d happily tell her everything she wanted to know.

-Hmmmmmm

-I certainly can’t say no to that face. So neither can you Mari. Here. Have some hearts

-See, they say fur covered thigh, all I hear is, cuddling for the winter.

-OMG SHE COULD SQUISH HIS PAW BEANS

-IF SHE DOESN’T SQUISH HIS PAW BEANS WE’RE GONNA HAVE A PROBLEM

-Mari stahp being so thirsty. There’s a stream next to you. Go dunk your head.

-Ness is adorable and I want a plushie of them

-Oh NOQOOOWW she has a problem with riding him

-…Ok, I mean…her explanation makes sense.

-See, every Dinae does it!

-Bram is so tired of her. It’s so funny

-WAIT. THERE’S WOLVERINES

-….is one’s name Logan?

-I’ll leave now

-I’m so glad they’re starting to understand each other more. Cause I was ready to jump through my phone screen.

-Things are still tense, of course.

-Wait a fucking minute. Going through a patch of brambles saved you a fucking DAY of travel? WTF

-I’m very interested in seeing how this plays out as opposed to Ravi’s route.

-Let’s meet Chieftain Mael!!

[gvf-imagine]

Part 2

warnings:  none

word count: 4705

summary: you get a text from dreamy rock singer Josh Kiszka whom youve just met at a live show and he wants to see you tonight!

tag list: @satingrass-maidensfair @karrotkate @kakarla @love-philautia @elliestrawberries @shesdigging @callmekane @supersonic-darling @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @justacollegestudentyay

A\N: Loved writing this chapter! I hope you all enjoy it and like always any feedback is welcome and appriciated 

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

Your friend hurried back to the table.

“What happened?!” she asked, her expression hungry for details. You simply shrug.

“He invited me to their next show at some college party…..he invited you too , oh and I gave him my number” you say with a melancholy tone. Your friends' eyes were wide.

“Why do you sound depressed??” she questions

“Why are you not freaking out like me?” she adds.

“He has a girlfriend” you say, taking another drink of your lemonade.

“God I wish there was alcohol in this” you chime again, mostly to yourself.

“Ok he has a girlfriend BFD he can't like her that much if he asked you for your number” she said with a satisfied shrug.

“Yeah that's just it, I don't wanna be the reason he leaves her. I mean we literally just met like what? Twenty minutes ago? And who knows how long he's been with her” you ramble. Your friend shakes her head

“Listen, whatever happens between them is NOT your problem. If he'd leave her for a girl he just met twenty minutes ago then clearly their relationship is already trash” she states. You look at her blankly for a moment before rolling your eyes.

“You just like the drama” you retort with an eventual smile. She nods proudly as she takes another sip of her drink

“I do! AND I like the guitarist so we're going to that show at that party” she decides. You chuckle and shake your head. Honestly you were excited to hear and see him again, you really really were and it's not like you guys were gonna make out or anything. You had no plans on doing anything that would jeopardize his current relationship, the two of you were just friends so far, not even friends, just acquaintances. Being an acquaintance sounded far better than being a home-wrecking hussy.

“That reminds me” you say, settling the storm of thoughts in your mind. Your friend looked up at you.

“Josh said that Jake, that guitarist you're in love with, was staring at you the whole show”  you proclaim readying yourself for the deafening overzealous girl-ish shriek that was sure to be escaping her perfectly glossed lips at any moment.

“WHAT??!” she yelled, her aura flashed at you like the aftershock of an atom bomb.l her face lit up with excitement and yours winced with the pain of her shriek ringing in your ears.

“Sorry I said anything” you reply but it falls on deaf ears.

“Oh my god what will I wear??” she asks her eyes darting off in thought.

“Wear two stamps and Saltine cracker for all I care , just don't get your hopes up about mr. wonderful there, boys in bands aren't really known for their long healthy relationships, more like short, shameful one night stands” you say.

“Yeah I don't care” she replies quickly. You smile, of course she doesn't. You can't help but feel differently about Josh, somehow you knew he wasn't like that. Maybe that was just you getting your own hopes up. He seemed genuine but you had only just met him so you couldn't really make a fair call yet. The rest of that day was full of water, sunshine, and lingering thoughts of two boys you hardly knew.

The next day was completely different, weather-wise at least. Dark, heavy clouds hung over your town like a horrendous guilt. A, what seemed to be never ending, shower of rain fell to the ground turning every home and business in Silver City, Michigan  into a lakefront property.

“Its about time you woke up” your friend smiles as you join her in the living room. She hands you a hot cup of tea, both of you still wore your pajamas which consisted of cotton shorts and old oversized t-shirts. The sound of rain dancing on the large window made you sleepy again, noting a huge crack of thunder and lightning couldn't solve though. Your body jolted in response to the loud boom. Your friend simply laughed and took another sip of her steaming beverage, smelled like vanilla chamomile.

“Shut up” you report playfully elbowing her in the ribs. You looked at your phone, you forgot you had turned it on silent last night. There was one unread message from a random number. Butterflies took flight against the walls of your stomach.

Josh.

You hated the fact that you couldn't help but blush and grin at the thought of him.

He has a girlfriend

He has a girlfriend

He has a girlfriend

You chanted to yourself in incantation before refocusing and reading his message.

J: Hey, it's me! I hope you had a good rest of your day yesterday, sorry for the late text, I had to wait till my girl fell asleep to talk to you…

Your heart sinks. You felt so bad for his girlfriend, it's not nice of Josh to go behind her back BUT there are always two sides to every story and who knows maybe she's talking to another guy behind his back. Your thoughts flew around your mind like fireflies. You shook your head and watched them scatter out of your ears and disappear into nothing.

Y: hey Josh! I'm glad to hear from you, so when's that party?

You decide to completely ignore the fact of his girlfriend and ask about the show instead, you'd like to talk to him more about his relationship because clearly he wasn't very happy in it, but it wasn't your place to ask.

J: 343 university Dr. we play at seven but well be there around five, so does this mean you're coming?

Y: yeah well be there, my friend would drag me by my hair if I didn't want to go lol but she won't have to

J: well that's good news for your hair, its too pretty to be pulled around…..like that anyway

The butterflies made their way all throughout your body. Did he just compliment you? It felt so good to hear him say that, it made you feel like a little giggly school girl with a crush. On the other hand you couldn't stop wondering if he'd said the same to his girlfriend today or who knows maybe there's other girls. You signed and slump down in your seat. Why was this eating you alive? You really honestly didn't even know him that well. You didn't know his last name, his favorite color, if he'd ever broken a bone. All you knew was he was a boy in a band, with a beautiful voice and a face to match. You felt the butterflies melt into a warmth as thoughts of him filled your head.

Y: josh…

J: I know i'm sorry, I just… I can't help it. I'm usually not like this but I just feel pulled towards you..

Somehow you knew exactly what he was trying to say, you felt the same way. The two of you were magnetized towards each other. You needed to be in his life one way or another and you just might have to put your better judgement aside and let temptation take the wheel.

Y: I know, it's okay. You're really sweet and I appreciate that. I'm really glad we met Josh

J:Im glad we did too and I feel like we met for a reason, I have to go rehearse with the guys now, but i'll talk to you as soon as I can… maybe I can come see you tonight?

Come see you tonight? What does that mean? What would we do? What would he tell his girlfriend? You didn't know what to say, hopefully he would be too busy at rehearsal to have any free time tonight.

Y: sure, if you're not busy you can stop by, just call me or something, hopefully ill still be awake ha ha. If no then i'll see you at the show…. Bye Josh :)

J: haha ok bye y/n

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

*later that evening*

“So you're going to let him come over tonight right??” your friend prys as the two of you walked through the mall. You rolled your eyes, as you often did around her.

“How did you even know about that?” you asked, swinging your bags as you walked. She looked down

“I may have just quickly skimmed through your texts while you were in the shower” she chimed with an innocent smile. You glared at her but couldn't hold back your laugh.

“Youre so fucking nosy” you reply shoving her gently. She smirks with a slight cock of her head.

“I dont go through your phone” you add. Her face goes blank

“Yeah well my love life isn't as exciting as yours right now, my phone’s dryer that the sahara” she responds with her usual quick wit.

“Well what about Jake, he might like you” you suggest.

“Yeah he MIGHT and I dont have his phone number so I cant talk to him” she argues.

“We’ll get it at the party don't worry” you reassure. She sighs and drops her shoulders.

“Yeah and so will every other girl within a mile radius” she retorts.

“Hey there were plenty of girls at the water park yelling his name but he only had eyes for you” you respond, you can tell what you said made her feel slightly better.

“Yeah well I guess we'll see, he is really cute though…. I'm totally getting his number” she chirps decidedly. You knew she would, it never takes much coaxing for her to want to get a guy's number, usually she didn't have to ‘get’ them, guys practically threw their numbers at her. I've gotta hand it to her this time though, Jake is a good looking gman.

Just then your phone rings, you look down and see Josh’s name flashing on the screen.

“oh shitting hell it's him!” you say looking at your friend like a deer in headlights.

“Well what are you out of your mind?? ANSWER IT!” she demands as she grabs your hand making you put your phone against your face.

“Hi, Josh” you say, shooing her hand away.

“Hey! I wasn't sure if you were going to answer” he says, you can tell a smile is beaming on his face.

“Yeah sorry my hands are kinda full and I had to dig in my bag for my phone” you lied. Your  hands were only carrying one bag, they were hardly full, and your phone was already in your hand as well. You didn't want Josh to know you were too nervous to answer right away and your friend had to basically force feed the phone to you.

“Oh well, i'm done with rehearsal.. What are you up to?” he asks, he must have JUST got done with practice because you can hear him and who you assume is the rest of the band fumbling with some equipment in the background.

“Oh me and y\f\n are just at the mall, well we're leaving now, we just wanted to pick up some new outfits for..” your voice trails. Shit. you did not want him to know you were here getting new clothes for his show, that would give him a big ego.

For christs sake y\n make something up QUICK BEFORE-

“For what?” he questions, his voice interrupting you from your panicked thoughts.

Fuck.

“Ummm for …. A birthday party! Yeah next weekend, her cousin's birthday party. Its gonna be on a boat at the lake so we wanted to get some beach appropriate attire” you say, what a shit-headed fucking lie, really? A birthday party? On a boat??? Josh simply laughs

“Birthday party huh? Sounds like a good time” he's smiling again.

“Well I hope you have fun.. So you wanna get together tonight?” he asks getting right to the elephant in the room. You pause and look at your friend who nods so hard you thought she was going to slip a disc in her spine.

“Aren't you really busy? You're in a band you must have like no free time to hangout with  me” you say prolonging your answer.

“Well no I don't have much free time, but i'm freeing up my time...for you” he responds. His words were so sweet but so hard to hear and they made you feel both happy and conflicted at the same time.

“I'll bring Jake,” he adds.

Your friend snatches your phone when she hears this.

“Yes! Lets hangout! Our address is 1342 sunfield st. Why don't you guys stop over, let's say,in  an hour!” she chimes cheerfully. You can hear Josh’s voice responding but cant make out what he's saying.

“Awesome see you guys soon!” she says once more before hanging up the phone. You just stand there looking at her with zero expression on your face.

“You'll thank me later” she remarks, tossing you your phone and continuing through the mall.

“Come on slowpoke we gotta get date ready!” she bounces up and down grabbing your hand pulling you along. You were really excited to see Josh again, nervous as hell, but excited nonetheless. What were you going to wear?

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

The two of you finally returned back to your house, your friend made a bee-line for her room, you did the same. You stood hopelessly in front of your closet.

“God I have nothing to wear!” you holler to your friend.

“You can borrow something of mine,” she offers. You hear her shuffling through her drawers, she's probably ripping through her clothes.  With a quick pace you made your way to her room.

“What should I wear?” you ask looking through her clothes she's already tossed aside.

“I haven't the faintest idea, I guess it depends on what we're going to do. Maybe wear something practical? Multi-purpose” she suggests. No help. You grab a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a black tank top that had a red floral pattern. This'll do. Sauntering back to your room you slip the outfit on and look at yourself in the mirror. Thank god you and her were basically the same size. Now all that was left was the matter of your hair and makeup. You decided to go with something simple, you didn't want to look like you were trying to impress him (even though you were). You tied your hair into a high pony-tail leaving a few strands down in the front to frame your face.

With gentle and effortless precision you put on your eyeliner, it really brings out your eyes and makes your cheekbones look nice. Usually that was the only makeup you wore, but tonight, you decided to put on some lipstick for good measure, a nice natural blush color. You smile at your reflection, which rarely ever occurred.

“You look great!” your friend's voice fills the air, light pink waves crashing over hot sand, you watch as the waves echo out of your bedroom window.

You turn to look at her, she's wearing a knee length sky blue spaghetti strap dress, it was simple and pretty and fit her frame perfectly. She wore a pair of white doc martens to top off her soft grunge look, her hair was down and barely touched her shoulders.

“What happened to ‘wear something practical’”? You question with a grin.

“To hell with it, I need to look irresistible” she answers.

“Well you do, I love that dress” you respond. There was a knock on the door, you and y\f\n looked at each other before the both of you  scurried excitedly to the door.

“Oh wait wait WAIT” you exclaim in a hushed yell as you ran into the bathroom, you grabbed your favorite perfume and spritzed a careful amount over your body.

“Ok go go go” you say as you toss the bottle back on the counter. The two of you rush to the door looking each other over one last time before your friend pulls the door open. In front of you stand Josh  and Jake, both wearing sweet smiles.

“Hey,” Josh says looking at you, his smile grew softer and more sincere the longer he looked at you. You picked up on it and blushed letting out a pathetically soft “hi”

“Come on in” your friend says, opening the door even wider. The boys step inside looking around, taking in their surroundings.

“Nice place, Josh and I share an apartment” Jake states with a soft chuckle

“This is hardly our house, her parents pay our rent” you say nodding toward your friend. She smiles

“Yeah they're loaded! So what do you guys wanna do?” she says quickly. Jake laughs at her remark.

“We thought we could go for a walk, maybe get some ice cream” josh says, more to you than the other two.

“A walk? It's like 10 pm” your friend says a small laugh escaping her lips.

“That's the best time to go” Jake says.

“Don't worry we'll protect you from any robbers” Josh jokes. You smile, you did everytime he looked at you, you couldn't help it he was so pretty.

“Sounds fun” you chime.

“Im 100% getting blue moon” your friend says grabbing her purse

“Oh you don't need that, ill buy” Jake offers, your friend looks at you with a smile.

“My kinda guy” she jokes again. Jake and Josh laugh and you all head out the door. The night air was crisp and clean, the smell of rain still hung in the sky. The ground was damp and the clouds were still looming and dark, but the rain had settled to a light sprinkle. You could smell it all, the droplets that hung off the leaves and the wet earthy dirt they fell onto. It was your absolute favorite smell, it reminded you of fall, which was only a few weeks away. The thought of that made you face burn red as you remembered you told josh that you had a birthday party on a boat to go to in a few weeks not stopping to think about what season it was. Dumbass. There's no way he fell for that.

Jake and your friend trailed slightly behind you and Josh, keeping conversion as they did. You heard them both laugh every few seconds and they seemed to be getting along.

“You look really pretty,” Josh speaks, forcing your attention on him.

“Oh” you smile.

“Thank you, I couldn't really find anything nice to wear, so I had to borrow something of hers” you admit with a laugh.

“You could have worn a trash bag, you'd still look pretty,” he says. His voice was dark and gentle like melted chocolate. His words ripped through you like wind through trees and all you could think about was his girlfriend.

“Can I ask you something?” you question.

“You can ask me anything” he responds, his eyes searching the ground.

“Why are you so nice to me?” you ask, your voice falls a little. Josh looks at you and then a passing car steals his gaze.

“When I first saw you I felt this pressure lift from my shoulders and then I couldn't take my eyes off of you, even if I wanted to I couldn't. You filled my head and I hadn't even spoken to you yet. One look.. And you entranced me…” he says softly.

“There's something between us y/n and I need to know what it is” he speaks again. Both of you had stopped walking by now, Jake and your friend were across the street ordering everyone's ice cream and standing noticeably close. Now that you thought about it, so were you and Josh.

“What about your girlfriend?” you ask, barely able to form words, all you could focus on was his perfect lips and enchanting eyes. You were close enough that you could smell his faint cologne pass your nose with every slight gust of wind. Your mention of his girlfriend didn't seem to phase him at all.

“Things with me and her are complicated, our relationship was set up through our parents and it's just a mess.. A forced mess. She doesn't feel that close to me, I've known you for a day and I've felt more things with you than I've ever felt with her. He explains. He was being honest, it wasn't just a show or him telling you what you want to hear.

“So why don't you just break up with her?” you ask again.

“I've never broken up with anyone before… I don't know how...plus her dad is our band manager and it would just cause a lot of problems” he admits. You understood how he felt, you'd never broken up with anyone either, you've always been on the receiving end of a bad breakup. Jake and y/f/n return, arms full of ice cream.

“Peanut butter cup, your favorite” your friend chimes, handing you a double scoop of the creamy treat stuffed generously into a waffle cone. Waffle cones were amazing, you never understood why anyone got anything else, they were delicious and if you rice cream started to melt it would catch in the diamond shaped waffle divots of the cone and not drip on your clothes. Yummy and practical.

“Thanks” you say, taking a refreshing lick. The four of you walked aimlessly around town, talking and laughing the whole way until you eventually wound up back at your house.

“Wow i cant believe how late it is already” Jake says looking at his phone, which prompted you to do the same.

“Holy shit it's 1am” you say, which was probably a mistake because saying it out loud made you realize how tired you actually are. Josh looks at you  

“Yeah it's late but I don't wanna leave” he admits a smile forms on his sweet face. He looked cute when he was tired.

“....you can stay the night if you'd like” you say nervously tugging at the hem of your shirt. Josh's face lit up

“It is very dangerous to drive while you're tired” your friend comments. Jake smiles and looks at Josh as the four of you walk back inside.

“I'm game” he says plopping down on the couch.

“Yeah I guess we can just crash on the couch” Josh says with a shrug, your friend quickly intervenes.

“Oh no no no this old couch will kill your back, you can sleep in y/n’s room!” she offers. You freeze. In my room? In the same bed? At the same time?

“Right y/n?” your friend speaks again, with a perky tone. Her eyes grow wide, glaring at you for a quick second.

“Oh uh yeah totally, these couches are stone” you say trying to sound nonchalant.

“Jake and I will probably stay up a while, why don't you guys head to bed?” your friend says again. Wow she's really pushing for you two to be together. You laugh at her and once again roll your eyes.

“Yeah, cmon Josh, it's right down the hall” you say, leading him to your room.

He closes the door behind him as the two of you enter. There's a moment of silence.

“You know, I can sleep on the floor if you're not comfortable with this,” he says stuffing his hands nervously in his pockets. It was tempting considering he had a girlfriend already but you  couldn't remember the last time you vacuumed this floor.

“No that's ok, I'm fine with sharing the bed, I wouldn't ask you to sleep on the floor” you say with a chuckle before yawning.

“I'm more tired than I realized” you add , sleep tugging at your eyelids.

“Me too” Josh says stretching. You looked down at what you were wearing. Jeans. Yikes. You can't sleep in jeans.

“Do you want me to leave so you can change?” he asks, reaching for the door handle.

“Um yeah sorta” you giggle shyly, he smiles.

“Just knock when you're ready” he says, stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. You quickly pull your clothes off and toss them in your laundry basket before grabbing light blue pajama shorts that had little red cherries patterned across them, then you grabbed the matching blue tank top and took off your makeup with some wipes you kept in your drawer. You let your hair down and checked yourself in the mirror before knocking twice on the door.

“I'm done” you chime. Josh steps back in, his eyes fall down your body and his facial expression softens.

“Still pretty” he says brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. Your body warms to his touch. It was so gentle and soft, you look down, smiling to yourself.

“Are you gonna change?” you ask realizing he's wearing jeans too.

“Well I usually sleep in my boxers” he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

“That's fine, whatever's comfortable” you reply walking gover to your bed and sliding in. Josh starts to undo his belt and he lets his pants fall to his ankles before stepping out of them and pulling his shirt over his head. His body was a wonderful olive tone and he had a thin trail of  hair that led from his belly button to his… you know.

Your face flushes as you think more about how undeniably sexy he iis. He smiled almost like he could hear your thoughts.

“I'll get the light” he says, switching it off. Then there was darkness. You felt his body slide in bed next to you, immediately warming you. His smooth skin brushed against yours as he turned on his side to face you. His hand lifted to your face and he strokes your cheek with his thumb gracefully.

“This feels….right” his voice breaks the silence and floats in your ears.

“Yeah it does” you admit, he couldn't see it, but you had a huge smile on your face. Your bedroom window is wide open and it began to rain agoian outside, you could hear every droplet splash against the ground and the wind blew gently through the trees. The wind blew through the window sending a chill through your room. You got goosebumps and shook slightly. Instantly Josh wrapped his arm around your side and pulled you into his chest. His delicious cologne still lingering on his body. His warmth and the comfort of his touch had you sleeping almost instantaneously.

“Goodnight y/n” he said softly, his fingers tracing a pattern on your back.

“Goodnight Josh” you reply tiredly. You wondered what Jake and your friend were doing, they must have fallen asleep or were watching a movie because you couldn't hear them in the living room, you fell asleep trying to decide.

You were jolted awake by Josh who jumped out of your bed.

“What's wrong?” you ask as you sit up rubbing your eyes. You could hear him quickly pulling his jeans back on .

“Hey, go back to sleep, I just, I have to go,” he says, putting his shirt on.

“It's your girlfriend isn't it?” you question, he sighs and sits on your bed.

“Yea she called me like twenty times, it's already 10am….I should go” he says reluctantly. You nod, you didn't want him to leave but it really wasn't up to you.

“Okay” you say softly

“Hey….” he says getting closer to you, his fingers gently grab your face and he kisses you passionately. His lips are soft and hungry, he leans over you slightly as if he's trying to savor every last taste of you, but the two of you battle for power, he wins. His thumb strokes your cheek and he pulls away softly, your face still in his hands, your foreheads rested gently against each other’s. His eyes searched yours for forgiveness.

“I'll text you as soon as I can” he assures. You nod as he gets off your bed and heads for the door. He offers you one last smile before he disappears down the hall. You fall back on your pillow with an exhausted sigh. His warmth still imprinted on the sheets and his smell still drifting through the air.

[hrsloren]

HELLO EVERYONE ! i’m rlly excited to be here at hearsay. actually is a new kind of rp concept for me so if im a little slow in coming up with ideas please be patient w me, i promise i’m engaged and interested. i’d also love recs of your fav murder mystery stuff for inspo! neway some info about ren is under the cut (along w some plot ideas!) and ill message yall once i have a chance to read over the apps so that hopefully i can come 2 u with some thoughts for plots~ ur also welcome to message me first of course or hit that like or really anything else lol!! discord avail on request for plotting, too, if thats more your style. 

kwon loren is a 26 yr old scorpio, horror enthusiast, entrepreneur (cough, drug dealer), n webtoon artist and she’s never met a villain she didn’t want to write a redemption arc for.

yes i almost exclusively chose her name bc it can be nicknamed into ren which obviously sounds like wren and i thought it was punny / suitable lol. 

unfortunately the only one of those that makes any money is the entrepreneurial bit and that is a totally illegal path. so her day job is her night job as the overnight manager of the gs25 near her dingy apartment building.  she works sunday to thursday nights, usually, since she makes the schedule she selfishly schedules the part timers on prime weekend night slots.  she also draws weird commissioned porn for folks w strange kinks (tentacles?? yoikes no judgement but yoikes) when she needs the xtra won.

she was the black sheep of her family even before her personality really showed itself, and once she revealed herself to be a tomboyish, unruly, temperamental, reckless, passionate, and alarmingly contrary child the whole thing just got worse. rlly the only person she was ever very close with was her grandfather, who is a somewhat-renowned murder mystery / horror writer. sneaking peaks at his books and manuscripts was probably what kindled a lot of her weird proclivities as a child, which she carries forward to now.

she’s quite excessive in a lot of ways. too much smoking, too much drinking, too much feeling, too much dreaming, too much scheming, too much writing.... basically the only thing she doesn’t overload on is sleep?? so check out those atrocious under eye shadows sometime bc its a yikes from me yall. 

u can track her moods pretty easily despite the fact that she’s got a hard to read face. once  you get used to her habits and mannerisms its rlly clear to see that she’s an open book. the only thing that can throw it off is that she’ll try to stop smoking abt once every 3 months, at which point she becomes a complete nightmare w very little notice. it usually doesn’t last very long unfort for her lungs.

speaking of smoking shes the kind of person to immerse herself in things easily and get totally wrapped in them. like, she’s v prone to addictions or obsessions. this can be with things, people, television shows, etc. she’s never known a good series she didn’t binge as quickly as possible, a good book she didn’t read cover to cover, sleep be damned. this means she’s often kinda grouchy or trying to sleep something off. she’ll also talk ur ear off about whatever she’s fallen into at the moment. 

just for a weird fact, she has a complex about her hair. its naturally relatively coarse and bushy and curly and frizzy. her mum used to pull it back every morning in a rlly tight ponytail and pin down all the unruly bits with bobby pins or barettes and she hated it, it always made her head hurt and obviously it made her feel like her hair was ugly.  so for a long time she chemically straightened it and did all kinds of treatments, but now she’s trying to maintain it more naturally. so yeah sometimes it looks like a birds nest but at least it’s healthier. 

she’s very picky about her surroundings and organizing her personal space, especially when she wants to work on something. she gets picky about things being in a good visual order, and if she notices something is out of place around her, she’ll hyper focus on it until she can fix it. this can be something meaningful (noticing she didn’t do the dishes) or something absurd (noticing someone left a napkin on the ground at the cafe, across the room, and having to go throw it away before she can focus on anything else). 

just like with her surroundings, with aesthetics, and with substances or media,  she hyper focuses on people too. when she decides someone is ‘hers’ she will go all in on them, becoming loyal to the point of honest to goodness fault. this isn’t to say she’ll tell them they’re the best at all times or be unrealistically enamored with them. she’ll still be fully cognizant of and happy to point out faults, but she won’t turn her back on them. she’d help you bury a body, basically, but she’d tell you what a goddamn psychopath you were as she did. 

FOR SOME PLOT THOUGHTS

her only real established canon relationships have to do w her drug trade or her much better cousin (just ask anyone in her family) so she’s very well open to just about anything. she’s canonically close to magpie and cousins w swallow, of course, and sells to an established handful. i’d love to get her a bit wrapped up in things these days, maybe some secret trading or ferreting things out. i imagine she feels loyalty to magpie and resents those who might come out with accusations against him. 

i’d love her to have an outcast ride or die best friend from high  school, someone who was also on the black sheep side of things. she did participate in the high school literary magazine (layout) and on the newspaper (though not as seriously as one might have hoped) and certain undesirables spread rumors about the english teacher “favoring” her (at least some guiding figure finally liked her dammit). so bullies from high school are fully possible. she was kind of a weirdo (duh) so i imagine it would have been pretty normal to pick at her here and there, though she did try to fly under the radar a lot. people who used to harass her coming to her for pills now could be a thing to explore, or someone who dated her in high school but didn’t really want to be “out” about it due to you know like dumb high school social differences so resentment grew and it was a whole teen movie drama that ended up without the happy ending and now its weird when they see each other, which could go many ways. those she’s befriended or so forth since coming back to town down on her luck, also, would be welcome! 

anyway if you made it to the end of this ily very much and i hope we can plot asap huhu

[sebastyansmith-writer]

Her Name Was Arthur

Or:

Getting to grips with my first ever panic attack at 30

Note: The following is written chronologically. The relevance of these events only became clear after a lot of soul searching and personal psychological analysis after the fact. 

Initially none of it was clear, but reaching back and finding the root cause of where I believe my panic attack came from helped massively with fighting through it and moving on.

I’ve had a few people ask for more information on this, especially those who have struggled with anxiety and panic attacks nearly their entire life. I think seeing someone process it all for the first time offers a unique angle. That’s what this post is about. 

At age 5/6 our family cat gave birth to a litter of kittens. I was allowed to chose one and name it, and from that point it would my cat. Looking back this was the first meaningful instance of real responsibility, and even at a young age I understood its importance.

I chose a kitten and named her Arthur. I can’t remember if I knew her sex, or cared, but I certainly loved me some King Arthur.

How not to hold a sword

For the first time in my young life I had a charge, a living creature that would rely on me. Obviously looking back I probably wouldn’t have had to do much, but all the same I took it very seriously.

A few weeks later she died.

It was an illness no-one knew she had, and according to the vet – unavoidable.

According to my mother I was inconsolable. It took a hundred conversations to settle me, and I’m fortunate that my mother excels at emotional conversations.

I remember choosing the name Arthur. I remember the kitten dying. I don’t remember what she looked like, or crying at all. Apparently my mind decided to repress all that.

From that point on I didn’t properly connect with any of the pet cats we owned, though to such a degree that I didn’t notice until getting Ink and Bobby, years later.

Ink

Bobby

I loved animals. I practically lived off nature programs. But I had a deep, subconscious fear of being responsible for them.

This might sound all a bit dramatic but I was – and am – what some would call a delicate flower. Losing Arthur hit me hard.

It’s funny, I started talking about the above on a regular basis. Saying how relieved I was that I could open myself up again to pets, happy that I was able to let myself feel things properly, even at the risk of eventually losing them.

In retrospect this was my mind trying to draw my attention to another issue that would only become clear to me later:

It wasn’t just pets that I had began detaching from.

As a child I had a smattering of friends. I loved them, and trusted them, but when we moved away I was able to disconnect from them without much drama. They had been good people, and probably still are (this is long before social media so who bloody knows!). Yet I moved on without much of a backwards glance. When they didn’t show much interest I would leave.

Anyway, I carried on, I grew up, I was able to develop some brilliant relationships with people. Things were going really well. I grew into a happy adult and am lucky to count some brilliant people as friends.

As an aside: I think this was due to my up-bringing. My parents (and other parental figures) were superb. They installed so much strength and self-respect in me. That’s not to say I haven’t stumbled over the years and been an idiot – I have. Even so, I had an exemplary upbringing and I will always be thankful for that.

I still retained the ability to move on from people if things didn’t work out, or if they let me down. Looking back it could be something as simple as them not keeping to an arranged meeting time or place and I’d totally cut ties with them. Not socially, but I’d take away any level of trust I had in them.

This came instinctively and followed me into my mid twenties until I made a breakthrough.

I found myself trusting people again, really letting them in. Here’s the issue –

As children we learn how to let people in and how to block people out. It’s a system of trial and error which most take for granted as ‘learning how society works’. I don’t think I did that. I think losing Arthur had such a profound effect on me that I took the shortcut of distancing myself from others as a means of avoiding losing them.

On some level my ability to process trust issues stopped when Arthur died (bear with me on this).

So when I started trusting people, I did so as a child might, because that part of my processing hadn’t had chance to develop.

Someone who I deemed ‘special’ (super cringey, I know – I assure you this wasn’t a conscious distinction, but rather a subconscious one I’ve only recently identified) would be elevated to such a degree that they could do no wrong. They were perfect, they were above reproach. They could – wait for it – be trusted and relied upon! They wouldn’t ever let me down, why would they?

wow

Here’s where the healthy/unhealthy cycle begins. Through sheer dumb luck, and hopefully my own judgement, these few people never let me down. They were, and are, brilliant. My child-like projections of them were never shattered.

Until they were.

What happens when the psychological foundations of your mind that you’ve been building subconsciously your entire life begin to crumble?

I can only describe it as my brain short-circuiting. I have never had any mental health issues. I have always had a positive outlook and tend to take difficult things in my stride. I am not one to obsess, or to spiral. I was thus utterly unprepared for what was to come. All at once my mind seemed to collapse in on itself. I didn’t react like an adult, I reacted like a 6 year old whose kitten just died.

I couldn’t understand it. I kept saying ‘I don’t understand, I don’t understand,’ like an endless mantra. I was unprepared.

You see, on a level I wasn’t aware of, child me blamed himself for Arthur’s death. It wasn’t my fault, obviously, but we’re beyond normal logic at this point (keep up Neurotypicals!). Arthur had been my responsibility and she died. I internalised that and blamed myself for it.

Therefore, if I was to blame for the kitten, then adult Me was to blame for any upset caused by an individual elevated to my special little compartmentalised group of friendships. What should have been something I reacted to and processed relatively normally became a mental cliff which I promptly fell off. The two events became linked.

I tried to shrug it off as I would a regular upset and ended up crying uncontrollably in work. Fortunately my colleagues were superb and called me a taxi home. I did all the things I usually did to take my mind off it and that only made me spiral more. My thoughts were no longer my own, I felt hurt, confused, and more vulnerable than I have ever felt before. My sleeping pattern almost vanished. I would have moments of clarity, but they were quickly fog over again. I’d have good days, but always bad days would follow.

Keep in mind that you’ve had this story in order. At the point of the panic attack I didn’t understand where this reservoir of emotion had come from. All I kept doing was blaming myself and silently arguing myself until I could feel my thoughts falling apart.

Artist: Bryony Mulvill

I’ve always known panic attacks were real, often comparing them to a type of fit, but experiencing one firsthand opened my eyes. It is terrifying.

For all my strength as a person, for all my good mental health, one incident and my world nearly fell apart. Fortunately I wasn’t alone. My partner and my friends were there for me and they pulled me through it. No-one is an island.

Do you know what surprised me further? The anger. As part of my mental block with letting people in I also restrained a lot of emotion. For the first time in my adult life I felt angry. It was like a damn bursting. Every single emotion all wanted to be at the front but the anger? That bloody scared me.

It also pointed out something fascinating: as an adult I had never been angry before. Not really, deep-in-your-gut, truly angry. Y’know what? Being angry makes me want to cry.

Delicate flower, n’all that.

Fortunately a lifetime of good mental health kicked in with a vengeance.

I began exercising to give myself the impression of control over my life. I began taking B12 supplements to help with the fatigue. I also began talking about what I was going through, not just to people on social media and to friends/family, but to myself.

I started asking: Why?

I’d gone through hard things in the past. I’d felt pain and loss and sadness, so why now? That line of questioning uncovered everything you’ve been reading.

I love psychoanalysis. I love the idea of the human mind as a machine with cause and effect, with a little bit of chaos in there for good measure. Until recently I’d had little cause to direct this interest inwardly. It took two months to trace things back to the Arthur conclusion. Written down it might look silly, and to some degree it is:

Child doesn’t deal with losing kitten = adult doesn’t know how to process being let down.

It’s dumb, but it’s also an answer. Rather than endlessly repeating: ‘I don’t understand’ I now DO understand. More importantly, I can tell my 6 year old self that it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known what was going to happen. I can resolve the relatively innocent incident of childhood trauma.

Not me and Arthur, but probably fairly accurate. Fuck I wish I remembered more.

You see, giving myself the answer provides me with a key. I’m no longer looking outwards for a solution, I can look inwards. And until recently my own head was the safest place for me to be. Like fuck I’m giving up that ground to anxiety. That territory is mine, baby.

I can also begin to work on how I view people, how I project onto them, and why I project onto them.

This has been a chaotic post, and to get the first hand journey experience you might have to read it backwards, from panic attack to naming a female kitten Arthur.

So there you have it. My first panic attack. Such innocent, naive little origins for something that could have so easily ruined me as an adult. Ain’t the human brain great/terrible.

Weirdly, I feel stronger and more alive than I ever have.

2020 is going to be amazing, I promise.

– Seb

Her Name Was Arthur Her Name Was Arthur Or: Getting to grips with my first ever panic attack at 30…

[angevon]

Souyo Nov 2017 Writing Challenge (prompt list)

Day 24: Party/Festival

Links

Souji - AO3, ffnet

Yu - DW, Pillowfort, Tumblr (read it below)

Heh, yes, that’s right, 2017... this is over a year late now... But this is a cute one and hopefully worth the wait. It’s an AU of the Culture Festival Event. Instead of a group date, there’s a kissing booth!

[ko-fi]

It was the first day of Yasogami High's Culture Festival. Yosuke trudged up the stairs to the second floor. He didn't want to take part in some stupid group date cafe, and he was pretty sure no one else did either. Why'd everyone in class vote for that?

At the top of the stairs, though, he stopped and stared, because an unbelievably long queue of fellow students and other festival-goers was lined up outside his classroom. There was Saki-senpai's little brother, and Hanako Ohtani, and that girl who liked being on the roof, and that one old lady in her mourning garb, and...

Yosuke was speechless for a long moment. "W-wait," he finally said. "Are you all here for the group date cafe?"

"What group date cafe?" asked Kou, who was standing in the line. "That doesn't sound like fun at all."

"We're not doing a group date thing," Chie said. She wasn't in line. By the big 'Ask me anything!' sticker on her blouse, she was part of the festival staff, helping visitors find their way around the school. "Come on, Yosuke, you were there when we made the decision in class." She rolled her eyes. "Of course you weren't listening."

"I don't remember," Yosuke admitted. "But I can't say I'm all that disappointed we aren't doing that, even if it was my idea and all."

Kou laughed. "That sounds like one of your ideas."

Yosuke made a face, then asked, "So what are we doing? This hall is more happening than Junes on a sales day."

"Our class is doing a kissing booth, you dork," said Chie.

"What, really?" Yosuke blinked in surprise. Then he narrowed his eyes at Kou. "Wait, you wanna kiss someone other than—oof!"

Kou nudged him hard in the ribs. "Ahaha, no," he said, eyeing Chie with a vaguely panicked expression. "But no one can resist the guy they got at the booth."

"'Guy'?" Yosuke's expression flattened. "It's not Teddie, is it? I mean, he's always charming people at the store."

"Guess again," said Chie.

"It can't be our class rep. I mean, he's got the glasses going for him, but that's not a wide enough appeal."

"One more try."

Yosuke's crossed his arms and thought. Anyone watching him could pinpoint the exact moment the truth dawned on him. "N-no way," he stuttered. "Yu?!"

Chie's toothy grin told him he was right on the money.

"Why don't you get in line, too?" Kou said. "There's room for one more. Or five," he added, as a few more students lined up behind him.

"I don't want to kiss Yu!"

Chie tilted her head. "Well... you're in the minority here."

Bewildered, Yosuke glanced down the long line once more. Some of the students weren't even from Yasogami. Wait, was that a cat!?

"Huh," he said.

He thought of how he'd always wanted his first kiss to be something special under the moonlight. His tentative plan to fake a yawn and stretch his arm out and lazily put it around his girlfriend's shoulders, and then he'd move in and they'd gaze into each others' eyes and...

A kissing booth wasn't romantic at all. Yosuke wondered how many people were going to ruin their first kiss with Yu like this. A lot, by the looks of it. Heck, even Nanako-chan was in line—she waved at him when she noticed him looking—but she was just a little kid so it didn't mean anything.

"You wanna be the only guy who hasn't kissed Yu?" Kou asked.

Yosuke scowled. "Come on, don't make it weird."

"I, for one, am getting a kiss," Kou said.

The line moved then, and Kou moved with it, putting him inside the classroom. Yosuke stared after him, still frowning.

He remembered all the times Yu had listened to him without judgement. How he'd told off those annoying girls at Junes on his behalf, and how he'd always looked after him in the TV World. And when he thought about it, well, Yu did have a really cute smile.

They were best friends, and the truth was that Yu was important to him.

Avoiding everyone's eyes, Yosuke got in line. He could feel Chie sneering at him, but fortunately, she was soon distracted by a student asking for directions to a different event.

Despite its length, the line moved quickly, and soon enough he was inside the classroom, where the line looped around a few desks. He could see the kissing booth situated at the far end, next to the chalkboard. A thick red curtain hung around the front of the booth to allow some privacy. Yosuke appreciated that. He knew he wouldn't want an audience.

One by one, like a production line, people went behind the curtain to get their kiss and left with wistful smiles on their faces. It couldn't be much of a kiss, Yosuke figured, since it happened so quickly. It'd just be in and out. No need to get all nervous about this. Heck, Yu'd probably just kiss his cheek and that'd be it.

Yeah, there's nothing to worry about, Yosuke thought as the line continued to move. It was just a kiss from Yu. His best friend in the whole world. Besides, he was just one person in this big crowd. No one could judge him for being here. He could just point out that they were in line too. And he knew Yu. Yu wouldn't think anything—

"Next?" Yu's voice came from behind the curtain.

Startled, Yosuke glanced around before realizing 1) that he was next and 2) that Yu had called "Next" for him more than once.

With the combined strength of all the glares of everyone in line behind him hitting him full force, Yosuke couldn't hesitate any longer. He hustled around the curtain. Standing there resting his arms on the booth's counter and looking totally relaxed, was Yu.

Totally relaxed only for a second, anyway, because he was startled most ungracefully when he saw Yosuke approach. Yosuke wondered if he was okay, but within seconds Yu had composed himself. "Yosuke," he said, with a somewhat glassy smile as if he hadn't nearly just fallen over. "I didn't expect to see you."

Yosuke waved a hand. "Uh, w-well, it was Chie's idea to come here," he claimed. "And I gotta support our class, you know?"

"Oh," Yu said. "Of course. Umm, okay, then... come closer."

Yosuke nodded, determined to get this over with and move on. He stepped closer and closed his eyes and waited.

Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes. Yu was simply looking at him. Spacing out, maybe? No, it wasn't exactly looking, more like gazing at him in a way that reminded him of a puppy.

"Yu?" Yosuke asked.

Yu blinked back to himself. "Oh. Sorry. Umm, here."

He leaned over the booth's counter and gently set one hand behind Yosuke's head, pulling him a little closer. With the other hand he cupped Yosuke's face. Despite himself, Yosuke's heart began to beat faster. This was closer than he'd ever been to his best friend. His cologne was strong, maybe he'd put it on extra thick today. As for himself, Yosuke hoped he didn't smell as nervous as he suddenly felt.

He closed his eyes, because this would be too embarrassing to watch. Yu's presence drew closer. Warm breath played over his face, building anticipation, and then...

Yu was kissing him. It really was just lips on lips, a simple kiss. Yosuke sighed softly and prepared to draw back as the kiss ended.

Except it didn't end. Yu's soft lips lingered. Then his tongue darted over Yosuke's lips. Confused, Yosuke opened his mouth, and Yu apparently took this as a sign.

The kiss deepened.

Yosuke's alarmed sound was cut short by the realization that this felt good. Yu's hand, steadying the back of his head, was gentle as it threaded fingers into his hair. Yu murmured softly into his mouth, and Yosuke found himself murmuring back. He tasted faintly of mint.

When they finally parted, all Yosuke could do was stare and lick his lips. Yu was staring back at him, too, an odd look on his face that Yosuke didn't recognize.

Yu broke the gaze first. "You should probably go," he said.

"H-huh..." Yosuke managed. Slowly, he remembered where he was. At the Culture Festival, right. He was holding up the line. Other people wanted to kiss Yu, too.

And with a kiss like that, he couldn't blame them.

"R-right," he said. "Uh..."

Yu's eyes were already looking past him, as if he could see around the curtain to the next person in line.

Yosuke stepped away, unsure of what he was feeling. On his way out of the classroom, he didn't notice how the next person in line kept checking his watch.

In a daze, he wandered around the Culture Festival, but didn't find anything he wanted to do. After passing a takoyaki stand, he thought of eating, but he wasn't hungry. The taste of mint was still there in his mouth, making him think of how it'd got there, how it had been passed to him by Yu's tongue. He didn't want to wash it away just yet.

Eventually he ended up on the roof, where some of the Investigation Team were gathered: Rise, Yukiko, Kanji, and Naoto. Chie was absent, probably still helping out somewhere.

Rise sent him a playful look as he sat down to join them. "Soooooooo," she trilled. "How was it, Yosuke-senpai? Don't deny it, Chie-senpai told me you went for it."

Yosuke crossed his arms and tried to shrug nonchalantly.

"Yeah," Rise agreed with a nod. "I wish it'd been more than just a peck. Senpai's lips felt like they could do so much more."

"I must admit I'm a little disappointed too," Yukiko said.

"Wait," Yosuke said. "It wasn't just a..."

"Still," Rise said, "I thought you wouldn't go for it, Yosuke-senpai. Way to go! You've matured so much since I've known you. Don't worry, a tiny peck like that isn't weird."

A... peck?

"It wasn't..." Yosuke shook his head and caught Kanji's eyes. "Wait, did you do it too? The kissing booth?"

"Uh, yeah?" Kanji replied. "Senpai's the man. He taught me a lot, y'know. 'Course I gotta support him."

"Support him with your lips?" Yosuke's voice grew louder as he began to panic. "Wh-what kind of kiss was it?!"

Kanji's brow knit together. "Dunno what you mean. Was just a peck."

"Just a... Naoto, did you do it?"

"But of course," Naoto replied. "I can't deny I was curious."

"But what was it like!"

"I could describe it as no more than a peck. It was on my cheek, for the record."

"A peck? A peck?" Yosuke stood up suddenly, and the world reeled around him, partly from his panic and confusion, and partly from the blood rushing from his head.

"Yosuke-senpai?" Rise asked. "It's all right. We all kissed Senpai, or were kissed by him anyway. So we're all in the same place. Oh, but I wonder... does that mean we indirectly kissed everyone else too?"

Yosuke opened and closed his mouth, and then sat back down. He palmed his forehead and splayed his fingers through his hair, trying to calm down. The revelation that Yu had given him and only him much more than a peck was too much for him to process.

"Nah," said Kanji. "Senpai had a whole jug of mouthwash back there. He washed out real good every time."

"That much mouthwash can't be good for him," Naoto remarked. "But I suppose he'll be fine if it's just for the festival."

Yosuke nibbled his lower lip. So that's why the minty taste. It had faded from his tongue by now, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed about that. Maybe... he could visit the booth again later?

The door to the rooftop opened and, to everyone's surprise, Yu joined them.

"Hi," he said, breathlessly. It had to be breathlessly, Yosuke figured, after all that kissing. But then, if he'd only given everyone a peck of a kiss, he wouldn't need much breath for that. "They finally let me have a break."

"You..." Yosuke began.

Yu smiled at him, then addressed the rest of the group. "How's the festival?" He sat down between Yosuke and Rise.

"The haunted house wasn't scary," Yukiko said. "This boy kept following me around inside it. It was very uncomfortable."

"For him, you mean?" Rise said.

Yukiko's eyes glinted in the sunlight.

The group continued to talk about the festival, but Yosuke wasn't listening. The kissing booth wasn't supposed to mean anything. It was just a stupid school event, but now, now...

Now Yu was right next to him and Yosuke didn't know what to think. He found himself watching his mouth. His lips were kind of red, probably from kissing people all day. Had it really been just Yosuke, or were there others he'd kissed so deeply? Which of these scenarios was he more okay with?

Yu was his best friend, and best friends didn't kiss with tongue, right?

At some point during the conversation, Yu wet his lips with his tongue, and Yosuke found himself mimicking the action.

All of a sudden—or so it seemed to Yosuke—Rise was getting up, followed by the other underclassmen. "We gotta get back to our class's booth," Rise said with a dramatic sigh. "We're just doing a bake sale. It's so boring."

"I dunno, the cupcakes are hella cute," Kanji said. "You oughta come by and get one for Nanako-chan, Senpai."

"I will," Yu promised.

"I'll come with you and get one for Chie," Yukiko said.

"See you later, Senpai~~"

In the middle of his crisis, Yosuke now found himself alone with Yu. He wasn't anywhere near ready for that.

Though Yu didn't seem to be either. He was fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. The awkward silence lasted for some time. Finally, Yu spoke. "Yosuke? You've been awfully quiet."

"Why?" Yosuke blurted out. "Why was my kiss different?"

Yu's eyes widened. "It wasn't—" he began, but he saw the look on Yosuke's face and stopped attempting to deny it. His eyes darted away, and then back again. Finally, he mumbled, "...Why do you think?"

Yosuke opened and closed his mouth. "Me?"

Yu didn't answer.

"Me?" he repeated. "Of all those people... you really wanted to kiss me?"

Yu was blushing. Yosuke was pretty sure he'd never seen this before. It was flattering.

"That was my first kiss," Yosuke told him.

"It wasn't mine," Yu said.

"Well, yeah! You were kissing people all day!"

Yosuke laughed, and soon Yu was laughing too. The tension between them lessened into something more comfortable.

"I couldn't help it," Yu said. "I didn't want to kiss any of them, not really, but everyone had voted for me to man the booth, so... I didn't have a choice. And then you were there, and... I wanted something more."

"After the kiss you gave me, I kinda want something more too," Yosuke admitted.

Yu stared at him. "Really?"

Blushing, Yosuke set his hand conspicuously between them. Yu watched it, and like a wary feline, he slowly brought his own hand closer. Yosuke didn't pull his hand away. Finally Yu placed his hand on top, and Yosuke turned his hand so they were holding hands.

Yu's goofy smile after that was its own reward.

"You were my first kiss," Yosuke said. "And..."

"And?" Yu prompted.

"I think," Yosuke said, "I want you to be my second kiss, too."

As they closed the distance, Yosuke could only think: and third, and fourth, and fifth, and...

[coriesocks]

Baggage

A fluffy little thing i threw together for renowned Neville-lover @keyflight790​ Hope you like it!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini Tags: Fluff, moving in, established relationship Warnings: Brief mention of excessive drinking

Read on AO3

“Is this the last of them?” Neville grunted. With a lazy flick of his wand, he deposited a pair of overflowing trunks on the floor. They landed with a dull thud beside a huge pile of similar trunks, boxes, and haphazardly-placed furniture that had already taken over most of the room.

“For now.” Blaise smirked. He rested his hands on his hips and surveyed the now-cramped space. Their cramped space. Their first space together.

He still couldn't quite believe it had happened. Settling down, domesticity, it had never been something he'd imagined happening when he was younger. He'd watched the men (and occasional women) cycle through his mother's favour, and believed he'd live the same life—never staying with one person long enough to get bored, always on the lookout for the next opportunity—but he hadn’t counted on Neville. Neville Longbottom, in his knitted tank tops, corduroy trousers, and worn out duffle coats, with a beautiful crooked smile that could thaw even the most hardened heart.

Neville bloody Longbottom. If only his younger self could see him now—he’d probably keel over. He’d barely even noticed the boy at school so he can’t have been much to look at then. Now though...

He doubted anybody else who knew him thought it would ever have happened too. He'd gained quite the reputation throughout school as someone who could be counted on to make you feel good, amazingly good—rumours of his skilled tongue were in no way exaggerated—but his encounters had only ever been temporary things. Nothing more than fleeting dalliances in alcoves or behind the greenhouses, or in the Slytherin dormitories when things got boring.

He hadn't been looking for love, but it had found him anyway in the shape of one incredibly handsome Herbologist, and he placed the blame squarely on Draco's shoulders.

It had been a couple of years after the war, and though Blaise hadn’t let onto anybody, he'd been struggling. Everything felt hollow. Numb. None of his former hobbies (if drinking, socialising, and fucking strangers counted as hobbies) filled him with the same fire as they had before. He'd started over indulging: drinking until he lost days, waking up in a new bed every morning, skipping work. He’d stopped caring about his appearance so much, even wearing the same thing several days in a row and forgetting to shower. Then one day Draco had pulled him aside and told him about this program set up by do-goody Dumbledore-ites that involved an anonymous owl exchange. It was a way to share experiences about the war without fear of judgement and apparently it worked. Draco swore by it, anyway; he said that sending off an owl to them was the best decision he'd ever made. Blaise wondered if he'd have been quite so enthusiastic if he'd known it was Potter he was corresponding with at the time, but Blaise was hardly one to judge based on his current situation..and it hadn't exactly turned out badly for Draco, considering his and Harry's forthcoming wedding.

Blaise had written his first letter with a great deal of scepticism. The people who volunteered to receive (and reply to) letters were assigned based on a set of criteria known only to the mysterious people in charge of the program and by some stroke of luck, Blaise's letter had been assigned to Neville. They had exchanged letters for a year before revealing their identities, but Blaise had fallen for him long before he knew his name. It was a further six months before they met in person. It may have been longer except they'd both attended Harry's surprise 25th birthday party, which Draco had organised, so the meeting was unavoidable. They'd ended up leaving the party early and spent the next few days holed away in Neville's Hogsmeade cottage, so Blaise hadn’t been cross at having the distance removed from their relationship. That time was now one of his fondest memories.

“What do you mean, for now?” Neville asked incredulously. “You’re telling me this massive heap of junk that has already completely taken over our new house isn't the entirety of your possessions? Where the hell have you been keeping this stuff? Your flat was spotless!”

“Firstly, it's not junk. Zabini's don't own junk. Secondly, I lived with Draco so of course I had to pare down my belongings.” Neville scoffed and looked about to object, but Blaise silenced him with look. “And thirdly, these are the things from Mother's London townhouse. I also have quite a collection of shoes and coats at our apartment in Milan, and several wardrobes full of winter-wear at our cabin in Verbier, but Mother doesn't use those properties as much so those things can stay there for the time being. Actually, the Verbier cabin is pretty much mine since Mother can't abide the cold and—”

“Blaise! I get it. You have a lot of stuff; none of it junk. I'm sure we can find somewhere to put it all…” Neville looked at the pile of boxes, trunks, suitcases, and several large pieces of ornately carved furniture that already looked totally out of place in their small home. There was a look of fond exasperation on his face, though, and Blaise’s rising guilt subsided.

“That's the spirit,” he said, dropping a hand on Neville’s shoulder and absently rubbing a thumb over the soft material of his shirt. “Do you want me to help with your things?”

Neville looked around, a wry smile on his lips. He pointed to where a battered trunk sat beside two small boxes and a bulging Muggle carrier bag and shrugged.

“Oh. I see...” Blaise glanced guiltily back at the sprawling mass of his possessions and squeezed Neville’s shoulder. They’d been together long enough that he knew Neville didn’t really mind his materialistic tendencies, but he couldn’t help but grimace at the obvious disparity in their amount of possessions. “On the plus side, at least that leaves more room for my things,” he offered.

“I love you and your baggage,” Neville said. He wrapped his arms around Blaise’s waist and drew him in, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Hermione can do a mean extension charm so I’m sure we can find somewhere for all your belongings. Besides, most of my things are actually in the shed. And the greenhouse…and a fair amount is still in boxes at Hogwarts because we don’t actually have enough space in our greenhouse. Speaking of...we’re probably going to need another one of those...or two perhaps...Oh, and I need get the climate control charms in place for planting once Luna sends my samples over—”

Blaise cut him off with a swift peck on the lips. “Anything you want, Nev. The garden is completely your domain. As long as there’s somewhere for me to sit so I can admire you while you get all sweaty and dirty, I’m happy.”

Neville chuckled. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Care to watch me get sweaty now?”

“Oh, yeah?” Blaise smirked and slowly ran his fingers down Neville’s chest, delighting in the feeling of it fluttering under his touch. He loved that he could still have such an affect on his boyfriend even after three years.

“Yeah. These boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.” A broad grin broke out across Neville’s face as he stepped out of reach. “Come on. It’ll go so much faster if we do it together, then we can get started on christening the rooms…”

Blaise barked out a laugh and watched fondly as Neville levitated a trunk labelled WARDROBE 5 up the stairs—hopefully heading towards the spare room which he’d already earmarked as his walk-in wardrobe.

He had no idea how it had happened, how he’d gone from sworn playboy to happily domesticated and settling down with Neville in their first home, but he was really glad it had. He felt like the luckiest man in the world and he wouldn’t change a thing.

[maybejustnothing]

I restarted therapy again. It was nice because I was, for once, happy and hoping that I could just get some tools to maintain that.

I think I still am. But therapy, even when you’re happy, apparently requires introspecting into the unpleasant things. I’m not fully convinced of this strategy -- it reminds me of a third (and last) date I had that began with the question “so what sort of childhood trauma do you have?” followed by a fairly bland description of things that I’ve either genuinely gotten past or have become so core to my identity that its not worth the time to decide if the result should be seen as “scar tissue” or “muscle tears”. But I like this therapist so far. Sometimes she seems a bit disinterested, but I don’t take it very personally. She’s going through the motions with me right now, and that’s what I want. I want the easy parts. I want to be reminded of the simple things like “your emotions don’t need to dictate your actions” and “make space to feel sad if you need to”.

This week she’s asked me to look at the things that cause me pain and ask what’s missing, and whether that makes sense. One of the answers is expression: I totally lack it. I have no connection to anything I used to do to express myself, and thus: I’m back.

We’ll see how long this lasts. I usually get cold feet, or start to feel too performative. Or forget. But I think an anonymous blog is about what I need right now.

A friend of mine was critiquing what he called “performativity” and make it somehow less-than authenticity last weekend.

And months ago, the pastor was questioning that in reverse: he was being told by his congregation that his sermons were authentic (and by god, they were), but *he* knew it was a performance. And given the candidness of our contexts, I would be comfortable enough saying I knew that, too.

Last weekend I mumbled out something about authenticity being contingent upon performance in context, grasping back at the conversation I had with the pastor on my work, and it fell flat. But my point is having proof of authenticity is -- to my knowledge -- the only reasonable formalization that has been put forth. Authenticity that can merely be claimed is useless. Call this “stake” or “work” or “more than an hour’s thought prior to service”, but you need to have something that gives you credibility.

Anyways, my point is that this -- writing -- always felt performative. But it’s highlighted a few things:

1.) There is, to my knowledge, a single person who I’ve ever felt has just read this without any meaningful interpersonal judgement; as distinguished from building an informed model of me, boundary setting, and (for lack of a better term) informed consent.

2.) I know that if you hide, it doesn’t go away.

3.) There are parts of me that aren’t as malleable as I would have thought, and some of these parts are performative. And that performance is authentic. Critiquing that is pathological, and that's not his intent, but he doesn’t understand what he’s asking for. You’re asking for unearned trust, and a complete degeneration of structural communication norms. Its not tenable. Its dangerous. Its pathological, and those that aren’t “guilty” of being “in-authentic” are still performing -- but their performance is in denial and a much, much more dangerous signal to the uninformed. Do not trust anyone who’s performance is indicating that you should trust everyone.

4.) I will, probably, be doxxed at some point. And I don’t know if I care any more.

5.) I can’t really lie to myself.

6.) None of this is impressive enough to stand on its own merits, but I think I have the ability to take it there. And if that’s true, and if it stands on its own, then the doxxing doesn’t really matter. Because it stops being a confessional of someone who never really formed an identity and because an identity in and of itself.

7.) To Identify is something that has a much, much larger meaning that I’d expected. My provisional definition, which hopefully pans out in summer school, is that “given a context, to identify two objects is to remove ability to distinguish between them”, and “an identity is a witness to a lack of distinction”.

8.) This is cathartic.

9.) Writing this in public, with a decade-old feeling that I had an audience of two, gives me a chattered vocabulary. And I don’t hate it, but I’d like it to be coherent. I’ll come up with those conditions soon enough.

10.) This doesn’t all have to be true. I won’t be giving a witness.

[awkward-pansexual-lesbian-writer]

Winter Fire - 01

Blurb:

It was awkward. Odd-even, but still somehow cute. It was hers. Her smile was lopsided and average, and Beverly loved it.

Dark Side of Me

Cassidy Floris had hunched shoulders as she swiftly traipsed past the Bowers Gang. Her gaze was directed to the floor, deep sea eyes reflecting anxiety. Nobody would blame her though, the seven boys in total could strike fear in teachers too. Henry Bowers, Victor Criss, Patrick Hockstetter, Reginald “Belch” Huggins, Peter Gordon, Gard Jagermeyer and Moose Sadler were terrors, although the first four were more of the offenders than the last three. Nonetheless, they were not a bunch to be meddled with, psychopaths littering the group with one holding solipsistic views. Cassidy turned a corner and could breathe a little easier as she hopped up the stairs, taking two at a time to get to her third-period classroom.

She was tired if the bags under her eyes said anything about how she held herself. Her love of learning had dimmed due to the continuous waking of unearthly times and judgemental peers and harmful gossip. The useless information being shoved in her face deterred her from making mistakes and changing positively due to them, believing her discovery of something new could be something that bothered others and could even turn them against her. She had stress forced upon her by those who taught her and those she worked with, the endless trials tiring her to the point of exhaustion.

As she passed through the doorway to her classroom, she took a seat near the middle of the classroom. There was little chatter in the room due to the others that sat in her homeroom were few and far between. She pulled out the hanging locket that sat between her breasts, snug in her bra and cradled it with a gentleness that reminded her of her mother’s touch. It had been years since she had felt that touch. Julie Femmer was a beauty, her dark chocolate hair always cut into short curls that curled into her jaw and neck, and the hazel eyes that were littered with flecks of green always reminded Cassidy of the greenhouse her grandfather used to take care off.

The abrupt scratching of the metal legs came from the seats behind and she made her jump. She had been staring at the locket for too long. With the ringing of the school bell, she shoved it back into its hiding place, metal now cold, and shifted her dress to make herself more comfortable with how it sat. As the teacher walked in, so did Victor Criss and Reginald Huggins. Their composure with how the teacher looked at them something that had never deterred them from pissing him off.

“How kind of you to arrive to form today, boys.” Mr. Tennar said, his cowlicked hair a straw colour. “Please take a seat unless you plan to skip again.” The teachers' sarcastic drone fell on deaf ears.

As the two just strode right past Cassidy, Victor’s white-blonde hair something Cassidy often wondered if it was soft or not. His brown eyes flickered with recognition as he looked at her and sent a lopsided smirk to her and she flushed lightly, the embarrassment of being caught staring more apparent than the slight attraction she felt for him. They sat behind her and as Cassidy lifted her head more she could feel someone’s gaze on her and let out a shuddering exhale. Dark almond eyes bore a hole into the back of Cassidy’s head. Victor’s gaze was intense but not threatening; they had been in the same class since the third grade, when Cassidy had first moved to Derry, Maine.

Mr. Tennar had already begun to form when Cassidy’s name was called and replied with a soft voice and a reassuringly raised hand to make her attendance solid in fact. She paid little notice to the notices that were read out by an unlucky student who was being too snobbish. Her hand wrapped around her shoulder bag as the bell rang and she was the second student out of the class, her rush something few paid attention too.

Time seemed to fly slowly by as she grew bored during her math class with the infamous mullet-haired leader at the back of the class peering at anyone ominously if they dared to turn to look, the lanky Patrick Hockstetter seated beside the filthy blonde, chair pushed back and back hunched almost unnaturally. Her chemistry class spent with the chauffeur of the group, his blue Trans Am well known; biology spent with her head in her notes, the dark-haired psycho seated right behind her with his green ruler and fly carcass infested pencil case the only thing he possessed as his crazed, dulled eyes stared straight ahead, face devoid of any emotion.

Cassidy’s physical education class was by far the most tiring, stress rising high, the whole of the Bower’s Gang present and barely participating unless the activity had something to do with the harm of those who they “played” against. Cassidy got four new bruises, two of the four turning a dark blue-purple; a reminder that Patrick’s aim something one wouldn’t want to mess with. He had enjoyed the way she winced as she lightly prodded at the marks, eyes alit with sick pleasure. She had scurried to the changerooms, her long hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that rested on the nape of her neck.

Dark chocolate coloured curls hung loosely, much like how Julie’s was, but with more of a wild curl and almost three times in its length. As she stripped down and ran the water in the farthest wash area, she exhaled against the stream that rose around her and scrubbed roughly at her sweaty skin, the freckles that scattered across her shoulders and clavicle, also littering under her breasts and hips becoming a strawberry field, white skin now tinted. Cassidy cut the water and dried herself, dressing quickly in the showering cubicle, her bike shorts almost invisible under her darkly coloured dress, the hem fluttering above her knees. She walked out of the girls’ locker room and into the gym, her teacher sitting on the bleachers and flipping through papers, not bothering to look up at her. Not like Cassidy would have been heard, her footsteps silent against the rolled vinyl, SignaFlex, that was spread across under her.

She sat down and dried her feet more, slipping her socks on just as loud laughter erupted from the boys’ locker rooms, four of the seven terrors strolling out with pride rolling off them in fierce waves. A couple other girls were seated nearby Cassidy and for a moment, she was tempted to scoot over and sit with them to make it seem like she wasn’t alone, but she decided against it. She wasn’t that noticeable anyway. Or so she believed.

Victor watched the brunette, his almond coloured eyes gazing at her figure. The grey dress Cassidy wore seemed loose against her frame, her body shapes unknown to the boy as he sat with his friends, half listening to their crude words about how they had just tormented someone in their class. He skimmed his gaze over the bloomed bruises that were visible, two of them peeking out from under her clothing. One on her left leg and the other just under her clavicle, showing the fragility Cassidy possessed.

Cassidy yawned against her palm that came to cover her gaping mouth. One more lesson then she could go home, and hopefully, her father wasn’t home just yet, so she could get some of her homework done before she would be truly exhausted. She liked learning Spanish but didn’t understand what she would use it for, as well as the confusion that she had towards her extra lessons of Latin that she took on Thursday evenings, of course following her fathers’ instructions.

The shrill echoed of the bell through the school jolted Cassidy as practically every student rushed out of the gym doors to get to the tuck-shop, to line up and get food into their greedy pie-holes. She slowly rose and dusted herself off, the imaginary dust on her floating off the skirt of the dress she wore. Her worn brown boots echoed each step she took in the gym, the half-inch heels something that she liked about her shoes. Cassidy didn’t bother with a goodbye greeting to her teacher. She just headed to the girls’ bathrooms instead.

The hallways of the school weren’t busy, not like how they would be if it was time to head to the next lesson but Cassidy didn’t mind. The occasional greeting was given to her but other than that, none spoke to her and neither did she. By the time she got to the bathrooms, there was a scent of cigarettes emitting from the first urinals and a few girls stood in front of the cubicle. Gretta Keene and her bitches. Cassidy cleared her throat and stood to her full height, which was not an astounding feat but still something that could make a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl nervous.

“Can you leave?” she said, fringe brushing against her cheekbone softly as she tilted her head slightly. “Some people come in here to do their business, not have shitty words with poor grammar thrown at them.” Her eyebrows, furrowed and dark, portrayed her agitation towards the group of girls and a couple scuffled their shoes at the look.

Gretta huffed and let out a wailing chuckle, trying to sound so brave. “And you are?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to get to know you and your stupidity.” With a click of her tongue, Cassidy took a step towards the shorter girl, “Can you leave?” her blue eyes darkened with a threatening promise and Gretta slunk away, calling for her minions to follow her.  They left and for a few moments the bathroom was silent before the quiet thud of the burning cigarette met the cubicle wall and Cassidy turned to the locked door. “They’re gone now, you can come out.”

The lock clicked and out came a girl with auburn hair, like a burning fire in winter, a blaze that could burn someone in the best of ways, and eyes of blue slate. Her freckles covered her face far in between and the first thought that came to Cassidy’s mind was how cute and she flushed because she knew she was staring. Beverly Marsh’s hair hung down her back, collected in a low ponytail, draped lazily over her right shoulder. Her eyes stared at the brunette before her and she couldn’t help the overwhelming urge to play with the long tussles.

“Your eyes – they’re like a restless sea.”

Beverly hadn’t even realised she had spoken until after the colour across Cassidy’s cheekbones darkened and spread down to her neck. She huffed a little laugh and Beverly awkwardly did the same and both girls smiled at one another, their dark eyes brightening just a little.

Miracles truly did come in different shapes and sizes.

Tags:

@annakatelittlejohn

[freelytinystudentblog-blog]

Beginning

So I guess for starters Im gonna say i am probably going to remain anonymous for a while. Also this stuff might get deep and personal so ill change all names. Since freelytinystudentblog is ridiculously long im just going to go but Eve because why not. Im not trying to look for attention posting all this stuff but i need an outlet and what better way to do it than anonymously on a website where it probably wont get read. So if you do happen to stumble onto this page then welcome. Hopefully you wont get bored. I guess its time for me to start with the beging which would be about 3ish years ago when I was a wee little lass and believed that because i was 13 i was basically the shit(which i obvously wasnt). I had moved a total of 3 times which doesnt seem too bad but it was always when i got really attached to people we moved and i never spoke to them again. This time was no different. We moved from one small town to another. Being one of the only mixed kids there besides my brother was surprisingly positive and annoying. Why youre probaly not asking? Well because my hair was everyones interest. A big ball of poof i always threw into a pony tail because honestly there wasnt much else to do with it. Everyone wanted to play with it or see how much stuff i could hide in it. It was fun at first but quickly got annoying. While there was that downside to the town it also had some positives. For example it was there that i realized that i was bisexual. To be honest i never thought about liking girls until my boyfriend at the time and his friend were talking about how they were both Bi and i said it to fit in a little. I didnt actually believe it until i realized the way girls made me felt. How i always caught myself looking at their chests and their butts, and how i fell for my friend Taylor. She was my first offical girl crush. Anyway this is getting a little off topic though it was important. Like i said there were many positives like the cool friends i got to meet, I got into blood in the dance floor and had a little emo phase and met a guy i thought id be with forever. That all sounds good but with all positives comes negatives. I began to get super depressed and even cut a few times. I felt trapped in my relationship with Damien. Whenever we fought hed threaten to kill himself or say stuff like “without you id kill myself” which is a shitty thing to say to someone in my opinion. I started doing things id never do like sneaking my boyfriend over and all that. But the biggest neutral that happened was me losing my virginity. No big deal it seems but i was freshly turned 14 and he was 16. We werent safe there was no protection. I know losing your virginity is supposed to be meaningful but i dont remember it. I wasnt drunk or anything so i dont know why i dont remember it. Anyway a couple weeks later i snuck out and walked around town and ended up having sex again in the graveyeard(insert judgement here) I knew something was wrong soon after. I felt sick so i told him i thought i was pregnant. He paled and asked if i was would i abort it. I instantly said no because i dont believe in abortions. After that night things got weird. Me my mom and my brother went to Tennessee. Driving up the mountains i felt sick to my stomach which i brushed off as carsickness. We get back from our vacation and i started craving the weirdest shit like frozen hot pockets, whole packages of cheese ect. I caught myself randomly thinking about having a baby and got scared. I ended up having my older family friend get me a pregnancy test and surprise surprise i was el prego. I cried for about 5 minuets before shutting down. I didnt know how to feel i was only 14. I called and  told Damien that night and he was as shocked as i was. Later on he told me he started crying after we hung up. So a few days later i went home and told mom. She wasnt as mad as i thought she would be. She refused to let me give the baby up for adoption because it was my mistake and i had to live with it. I dont think i couldve done it anyway. No one really understands how attached you get to the little baby inside you. I believe the same day i told the rest of my family. My grandma didnt talk to me for a couple of months. I had an aunt who told me i needed to give it up for adoption because i was gonna ruin the babys life.I had another aunt not let me see my cousin Bri for atleast 6 months which hurt so much. Me and bri are like sisters we’ve been almost inseperable ever since we were little which is funny since shes younger than me. Damien was determined to stay in the babys life and not leave no matter what. Me being pregnant at such a young age wasnt easy. I lost most of my friends and began homeschooling which was terrible. The nine months of me being pregnant was basically filled with me fighting with my boyfriend getting insanely jealous, cheating, and more sex. We shouldve left each other months ago. Looking back i shouldve left sooner. It was a toxic relationship for both of us. 9 months later my baby boy was born. Mister Phoenix. My angel. It was kind of ridiculous damien and i fought even in the hospital. We brought phoenix home and i was hoping the relationshup would get better. It didnt. I caught him sexting his ex and swore to break it off with him. I didnt. I swore to myself i wasnt going to let my baby grow up without a father. In july 2015 we moved 45 minuets away. Damien came on the weekends because my mom picked him up and took him home. That laster all summer until school started and he couldnt anymore. It seemed like us being apart made us fight even more. By november he broke up with me. Now i was 15 and a single mother. I was devasted. I had no one to turn to since i didnt have any friends in my new town. I was alone and began eating my depression away. Every month on the 11th i would sit down and cry. I wasnt in a good state. By 2016 i swore to myself id move on from Damien and become an amazing mother but it was so hard He kept popping in every 3 months or so flirting with me making me fall for him over and over again only to get crushed over and over again. It was a hellish cycle but honestly im glad i went though it. Why you ask? Well simply because every time he left itd give me more reason to stop liking him and even hating him. Now he texts me and i just roll my eyes. Going through that definately helped me move on. He wasnt there for any of the birthdays and i honestly am glad. I understand its my kids father but i grew up with a dad who lived in the same city and still couldnt come see me. I dont want my baby going through that. Once hes older i plan on explaining everything and giving him a choice of whether he wants to get in contact with his father or not. Itll be completely up to him. Now before you start judging me to hard think about this. I became a single parent at 15. The father never visted his son or even asked. Hell this january was the first time he saw phoenix in Two years. Two thats ridiculous. After the very awkward encounter he hasnt bothered asking to see him since. Its hard for people who dont have kids to understand this i know but i know what im doing is for the best. This sunday is going to be his 3rd birthday and his father came up with stupid excuses as usual. Now i know i left out some stuff but some of it is hard to put into words plus if i added anymore itd be unbelievably long. So this was the begining and current i guess. 14 and pregnant. 15 and a single parent. currently almost 18 and still doing it bymyself just a little better. Thats all for now. Ill probably make another one soon about relationships while being a single parent so yeah. Peace.

[friendshipcampaign]

Journaling

I’ve been keeping some of the downtimes between Ditto and the Tome secret but this one had some plot information that the others might be interested in. (Ditto will probably tell the others about this in character once there’s a quiet moment, but given where we left things off last time who knows how long that will be?)

While Voski prepared for bed, Ditto sat down in the hall, opening the Tome of Mysnkay on her lap and writing.

"Okay! So, first things first, we're all okay. It looked a little scary there, but we got away from the shadows. Also!! There was something outside the town that you might be interested in. I think the local wizard summoned it to guard the town? That's what it sounded like from talking to the innkeeper anyway."

She described the wraith in as much detail as she could remember, adding a couple illustrations to really drive the point across.

"This town has a necromancer?" the Tome said. "Do ask them about their techniques."

Ditto made a face at that. She didn't want to judge the wizard without really meeting her, but . . . after talking to her assistant she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to talk to her at all. Besides that, the others would probably want to move on right away in the morning.

Then again, Voski did say how she wanted to support anything that might help them understand the magic they were bound by. And even if Lakaphai didn't know anything about that, maybe she had a book or something on the subject. But still. Ugh. Maybe. If Mynskay really wanted to hear about necromancy, fine, maybe. Maybe they'd find a necromancy book in the boarded up room instead, and then wouldn't have to talk to the wizard.

She looked down and realized she'd been tapping the tip of the pen on the corner of the page, making a series of nervous little dots. She pulled her hand back and said "sorry," out loud, fully aware the Tome couldn't hear her.

"I don't know if necromancy is her main thing. Her assistant said she was into conjuration, but they had to learn a bunch of other stuff to deal with some of the problems plaguing the town," she wrote. "But even if that's true, necromancy is probably a big area of study for them with all the shadows around. There's something else, too. The guard at the gate who let us in? Doesn't have a shadow. I mean, doesn't have a regular shadow. Isn't that a heck of a thing?"

". . . One always hesitates to jump to conclusions," the Tome replied, "But a gatekeeper with no shadow in a town surrounded by swarms of shadows seems unlikely to be a coincidence."

Ditto smiled at that. "Heh, yeah, I was thinking the same thing. You think their shadow turned into one of those shadows? The bitey ones?"

"It's certainly possible. Tell me more about this town and its wizard. Does it seem like the sort of place that would try to raise an undead army, or one so beholden to those in power that it wouldn't raise objections?"

"Well...talking to them it sounds more like the wizard is protecting them from the shadows. I can tell you for sure the townsfolk don't want the shadows around. The whole town seems to be doing...bad. I'm pretty sure everyone would really rather have them gone.”

“I guess it's possible the wizard is still behind the shadows, but if they are the townsfolk sure don't know about it, they're pretty sure the opposite is going on. And the inkeeper...she seemed scared out of her mind when she was talking to us. I think she might be worried that we're outsiders who are gonna go sticking our big noses into their business. (She's right to be worried. There's a locked room down that hall that definitely has some secrets in there and we're totally gonna break into it later.)"

"I didn't meet the wizard, but she has a tower in the center of the town just for her, which seems awfully fancy to me.  She's clearly worth a lot to the people here. And her assistant seems--" Ditto hesitated, looking for the right word. "Confident in how valuable they are to the town. I guess I can't blame her if the wizard is the one who summoned the wraith that keeps the shadows out, though."

"I nearly asked if you made it a habit to break into other people's property on a whim, but you're an adventurer. Of course you do,” the Tome wrote. “If I was still alive you'd be exactly the sort of person I'd go out of my way to avoid. But no, go on, enjoy your breaking and entering. And if you haven't been driven out by morning do try to ask about the wraith. It's an unusual guardian; I'd be interested to know how they did it."

Ditto's brow furrowed as she read. She licked the tip of the quill and began writing her reply.

"Okay first of all: fair. Fair. That's fair. I'll take that criticism. I wouldn't call myself an adventurer but I am...pretty much acting like one here. So...fair. But second of all...wait. You used to be alive? You didn't mention that...I just...sort of assumed you were always a book."

The Tome rustled its pages in a gesture that Ditto was pretty sure is the closest it could get to a sigh. "You really know very little about necromancy, don't you? If you'd met your elf friend when he was dead would you have assumed he'd always been a ring?"

"Well, I mean...If he'd introduced himself as The Ring of Erwyn I just might have.” Ditto replied. She was so full of questions she could almost feel them piling up behind the quill in her hand, eager to be written out. “Was Mysnkay your name before? Or is that just your book name?"

"I was known as Mynskay before I took this form, yes," said the book.

"So what happened? Or is that too personal a question to ask?” Ditto hastily added. “If it's too personal or if it's upsetting to talk about that's okay, just tell me to shut up and I will."

"I died. It was terribly inconvenient, but fortunately I'd had the foresight to set up a contingency. I'd prefer not to discuss the matter further."

"Gotcha. Sorry that happened." Ditto fiddled with the end of her quill. In the back of her mind she wondered if Erwyn and Mynskay might want to talk to each other about dying sometime. Maybe it would be nice to speak with someone who'd been through a similar thing? That sounded like a really hard conversation to set up, though. "Well, anyway...I'll let you know if we learn anything. And I'll try to talk to the wizard about necromancy stuff."

She paused, biting her lip. A part of her didn't want to write this next part, but . . . . "Actually, if you want...I could try to introduce you? You'd probably have a much better conversation with them writing in you than going back and forth through me."

"True, true.” The Tome wrote out. “You seem suspicious; is there anything about you or your companions that I should refrain from mentioning if you do set up a conversation? Or any intelligence you wish me to gather?"

"Ooh, that's a thought. Probably don't mention anything about us being in service to the fey. We're just traveling through town. And I mean...obviously don't mention us breaking into a room at the inn. And maybe don't mention Erwyn dying? Not because I think it needs to be secret, just, I think it might be kind of personal for him? It might be better to let him bring it up with other people, if he decides to at all."

Ditto considered whether she should add not mentioning that she was a wizard. But that wasn't an important lie. She just...really hadn't wanted to talk to Hayel. Or for Hayel to be too interested in her. Or for Lakaphai to be too interested in her. But she also didn't want to build up elaborate lies around it, that seemed more trouble than it was worth. She decided to just let Mynskay use their own judgement.

"Intelligence-wise . . . I mean, you did say those shadows might be caused by an academic type up in a tower.” She wrote, “and now there's an academic type up in a tower. And obviously I have a WHOLE lot to learn about necromancy and for all I know wraiths just keep shadows away, but...well, it occurred to me that if you make a bunch of shadow creatures that everyone's afraid of, and if you don't want people to get pissed at you over it, and if you have some ability to bend them to your will you could just have them stay outside the town and put a guard there to make it look like that was the reason why?"

She paused and fiddled with her quill. "And maybe that's not what's going on at all, and I'm just jumping to conclusions and being judgmental because of personal reasons? But . . . yeah, I am kind of suspicious. At least a little. So. I wouldn't say there's especially any intelligence I want you to gather but that's why I'm suspicious. And if you think I might be onto anything . . . well, that's just something to keep in mind I guess." She paused. "Oh! But...if they seem nice? Maybe you could ask them if they know much about fey magic, or if they have any books on it? Because if so I might want to talk with them too."

"Noted. I'll see what I can learn, should the opportunity present itself."

"Thanks. Oh! And...if you can figure out why the guard doesn't have a shadow? That seems like something worth knowing too." She paused. "Hopefully they're nice."

"Even if they aren't, I'll do my best to investigate.” The book wrote. “I have extensive experience dealing with writers who are less kindly than you are."

Ditto smiled at that. As the letters swirled away to make room for her reply, she dipped her pen in the red ink and drew a great big heart, with smaller hearts doodled around it. The book didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Its ink swirled around the heart for a long moment, and then it slowly sunk into the page.

[notcrypticbutcoy]

It is obvious from your writing that Magnus is your favourite and it's sad because while all writers have a favourite character, they don't let it affect their writing by being so biased.

So I currently have two new messages in my inbox. One, this. The other, a politely posed question about Simon’s sexuality and its interpretation in canon vs fandom. I wonder which is going to get the more productive response? 🤔 But anyway, two parts to this answer.

(This turned out to be a much more productive response than I anticipated, c’est la vie!)

1) To clear some apparent misconceptions, because I’ve had people complaining about Izzy being my favourite character, Magnus being my favourite character, JACE (?!) being my favourite character, you get the picture: yes, Magnus is my favourite character in the sense of, you know, HIS CHARACTER. He’s incredibly complex and well-rounded and so much fun to explore. Then why are (probably significantly) more than half of my fics written from Alec’s POV? Because he’s my favourite character in my ability to relate to him, to understand where he’s coming from, to see myself in him. That’s a very intimate thing, and it’s one of the things that makes me watch TV and read books. Relating to characters.

FWW is, by and large, ABOUT ALEC. Yes, about Alec and Magnus, obviously, but it follows his storyline, it’s mostly written from his perspective, and most major events centre around him. Him + another character, sometimes, yes, but he’s usually the common factor.

And in this fic - which is not written in the canon universe - Alec has spent most of his life being taught that Downworlders are disgusting and deserve everything they get from the Clave. A lot of the first twenty+/- chapters is him coming to the realisation that this is not the case, largely through his relationship with Magnus but also other Downworlders - Luke, Raphael, Maia, Simon, etc.

At some point, everybody in the world is exposed to something that makes them reconsider their beliefs. It’s just life. That’s what this story is about, from many sides. Alec reconsiders his beliefs about Downworlders. Magnus his opinions about (particularly the younger generation of) Shadowhunters - although not so much the Clave. Isabelle her opinions about the Clave’s officials. Simon about his place in it all.

None of these characters are perfect. All of them make mistakes. All of them say things that are supposed to make the reader go “…? Really? Was that necessary? Was that fair? Was that the best course of action?” Even *gasp* Magnus. Magnus’ own arc in this story is still in its earlier stages. He’s got plenty more mistakes to make and arguments to have and angst to go through before he’s done. As has everyone else.

I’m a little bewildered as to why a brief musing in which Alec reflects on how his prejudice against Downworlders affected his judgement of Simon in the past has stirred up this “OHMYGOD YOU HATE ALEC” thing. It boggles me. Especially as the follow-up scene stresses that Alec dealt with the situation well, and wasn’t blind-sided by prejudices, because, you know, we’re 29 chapters in, he couldn’t still be behaving as he was in chapter 1!

2) These kinds of messages are not productive. You know that. I know that. The mere fact that they’re on anon clues everyone into this. So, rather than rant at me for your own gratification, here’s a suggestion: BE CONSTRUCTIVE. IT MIGHT GET YOU SOMEWHERE.

For example: Hi Lu, I’m x chapters into y fic, and I’m still reading it because I like z. However, I noticed v scene/line, and I was wondering if you could explain why you wrote it, because I thought w. I’d like to hear your thoughts, because it squicked me/seemed out of place/seemed out of character/didn’t make sense etc.

I’m much more likely to respond to that in a helpful manner! I don’t know whether I give off the impression that I’m totally close-minded or I think my opinions are fact or think my word is gospel – I don’t! I’m not! I will ALWAYS listen to people’s opinions, when they are constructive, polite, and a genuine concern/enquiry, rather than a rant or a hate anon or some kind of guilt tripping. My opinions quite regularly do not line up with the mainstream, especially on here, and so I just keep them to myself, because I’m here to write and enjoy these characters. And I always approach constructive criticism with an open mind, because that’s how writers improve! 

And hey, you might change my mind! Someone left me a comment pointing something out in chapter 29 that was off, and I’m over to fix it in a moment, because they’re totally right and their comment wasn’t rude, it wasn’t cruel, it was just a “Hey, xyz threw me, what’s up there? I thought ____. Anyway, the rest of the chapter…”

See the difference? See how one just makes me want to not post and delete the whole bloody thing, and one benefits everyone reading, you, and also me as a writer?

Constructive criticism is a GOOD THING. Hate messages are not.

So, my offer to you: turn your “you only love magnus and you hate alec and your story is shit” message around, and have a conversation with me. (It’d be nice and increase my respect for you if you did it off anon (I won’t publish it if you don’t want me to) but I won’t absolutely hold you to that.) Be polite, be respectful, and rather than making assumptions about ME, explain what it is that’s bothered you so much, and why you care! There must be something making you read the story to this point, unless you’re a total masochist and read things you hate for the Edward Cullen vibes, and there’s clearly something that’s made you feel the need to rant at me. Tell me! Nicely! I’ll explain, I’ll probably also see your side of the argument, and we can either agree to disagree, or if it’s a little thing I might make a change, or if it’s a bigger thing I might consider it as I go forward writing the story.

Isn’t that a better solution? Doesn’t that benefit everyone involved? You get answers, I get some food for thought, and polite open discussion about these things (hopefully) leads to a better story.

That’s my offer. You’re more than welcome to take it. That’s all I have to say here.