#but he's like the platonic form of a millennial

[touchlikethesun]

generations are not real, they are a construct made up by marketing execs for their powerpoints, however if there is any one true millennial in this world their name is shen yuan.

[berriblossom]

Oh, Great Divine!

☆| It's time for a SAGAU, more so a comforting one. Reader's gender is ambiguous and gender neutral, archons adore reader, in this sense the Nahida tag is platonic!|

☆ Tags/warnings! | Socially Aware Genshin AU, archons and people of Teyvat treat the reader as a god or heavenly figure, religious references (cathedral of Mondstat and Narukami/ Sangonomiya Shrines of Inazuma) some minor lore for reader, Reader is referred to as "Their Grace" or "My/Your Grace" and "The Great Divine" ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL!! anyway, enjoy.|

Within the lands or nations of Teyvat, for centuries the practice of worshipping an Archon was beyond common, more so for those who wish not to believe in spiritual practices concerning the gods of each element are more on the rare side to find. However even if such existed, there was one thing to never be doubted within the lands of Teyvat.

The Great Divine's presence over mortals and immortals alike.

The creation of Teyvat in many national mythos credits the sole ideas and creation to the Great Divine. Even the archons and the sources of their celestial names were blessed upon them by their divine grace. Depending on which nation you visit, some may say that their archon is specifically blessed by their grace.

In Mondstat, the nation of wind, song, freedom, wine, and bard's ballads, once every 100 years they celebrate the freedom blessed to them by Barbatos and the Great Divine. A tradition stretching for the last millennial to show the love and deeply routed affection given by its people and archon. Yes, Barbatos, or now the "drunken" bard known as Venti among his people. Every festival of a "New Eve" as they call it, is another 100 years for him to show his affection for his beloved divine. Despite his defiance to Celestia and the natural order placed after your departure, he still fully believes in your care and love for humans and archons alike. To Venti, whispering to the wind like he did with you thousands of years prior, even in his wind-spirit form. You'd sit together where now the great tree at Windrise and speak about the future of Teyvat, something despite having the authority over you simply spoke to him as:

"For what will come, Your nation will prosper and learn the true meaning of freedom and song..."

So to this day, he sits under that tree and thinks of the years since, missing your warmth from curling up in your hands as a wind spirit to laughing and humming beside you in his divine form. He has seen it for the last few hundred years, the art, songs, plays, books, and even food and weapons made in your name, and every hundred years he repeats the same. A small prayer from his soul is whispered into the wind as he tells his deep care and love for his dear grace. And the people of Mondstat no different, all gather at the great Cathedral and warmly sing about the Great Divine and Lord Barbatos as they place to wine, food, and gifts at the altar of your image. When alone Venti will sneak in and sit under your statue, missing the warmth of your hands but relishing the love in your image.

In Liyue, the nation of Geo, contracts, and the adepti, the greats divines are influenced by the first contract Rex Lapis made with them over 7000 years ago, even before Liyue was a fully combined nation. Zhongli remembers the conversation you two had, sharing a simple game of wit and tea. Then he was immature to your influence and power but now he relishes in it. Proudly in his vast historical knowledge, preaching his love and the power the great divine holds. How you could shape the sea with a flick of your wrist, how you've created mountains from your fingertips, how your vast knowledge is spread throughout teyvat as a bible to be studied and read over and over again. But mostly what he and all of Liyue celebrate is the contractable care and affection you give him and the people of Liyue.

This time around Liyue is a time spent every hundred of years a new eve of dawn as it is called, one Zhongli and his fellow adepti never get tired of. A time to give gifts of care to neighbors, friends, and even coworkers in the busy harbor. Even the Northland Bank celebrates by lowering interest on loans!

(But only for this amount of time and by the next New Eve of Dawn the Interest WILL reset)

But mainly it is a way to give worship to the Great Divine and their trust in Rex Lapis and his Adepti to protect and serve Liyue. Everything Zhongli has done was for your gratitude and divine love. So when a New Eve comes, he sits anywhere in Liyue, the mountains, hills, somewhere to overlook the harbor, and enjoys a warm cup of tea. Your favorite while imagining your smile as you talk, the games you'd two play. He watches his disciples and Apeti celebrate with gifts, food, and songs at your altar set around Liyue. He sips his tea and awaits your fated return, happy to share more memories and stories with you.

Within the land of Eternity, formerly transcience, Inazuma's style of celebration differs slightly from some nations. The Grand Narukami Shrine would hold a private ceremony, cleansing the sacred Sakura tree and your statue underneath, barhing the precious stone engravings with crisp clean water. Meanwhile the people if Inazuma would be celebrating on their own occasions, firewroks light into the clear sky, dancing ceremonies at the teahouse fill with guest.

However, the new electro archon herself sits alone at the top of Tebshukaku. Quietly walking down memeory lane in her mind. For the last five centuries of the New Eve of Dawn celebration, she'd sit in her space of Euthymia alone in solitude quietly sulking at the idea of your everlasting figure. How her and Makoto would chat down the lane of inazuma speaking about plans of you, speaking of your visions of the nation of electro, Makoto laughing at how embarrassed Ei used to be around you and your divinity. Now Ei smiles solemnly..

She knows now that she as archon must take the mantle, for in your teachings that it the goal of the heavenly principles you've left. Fated to return, she prays that you'd come to her first. She dreams and imagines in her meditations within her quiet Euthymia that you'd hold her. That her loneliness would be cured indefinitely. But for now she waits, with a plate of dango and some ofdly colored tea, shit eats alone as the fireworks set off atop Narukami island, she whispers a promise to herself and her nation on your honor.

"For it will be fate...my grace...you shall return to us...to eternity...we shall be reunited."

Far off in the lands of eternity, however, the island that formed the resistance sings and dances around the bonfire, the resistance army of Sangonomiya and Watatsumi laugh as they praise the late OmiKami, or the serpent god Orobashi. The fire dances as troops tell stories, shrine maidens sing and laugh, and her priestess sits while holding a book. She smiles softly. Kokomi looks above at the horizon and sees the corpse of their late god, she wishes silently to herself and for her ancestors to below the sea. That once the great spirit of life and forefather of the vishaps would return to bring life to the benevolent serpent. But for now, she sits alongside Gorou as they watch the troops enjoy the holiday.

Within Sumeru, however, and alongside it, Fontaine...the New Eve of Dawn has been on the academic calendar differently, which is how some older nations react. For those in the rainforest, it is a blessing of Lessor Lords Kusanali's birth. For the dessert, it is the bringing of a new promise for the scarlet sand kings doubted return. Within the nation of dendro, it is a holiday of now academic activities, no scholars shrouded in work, but a day off. The people worship by their own will and sit in taverns, bars, and cafes to drink mereily while chatting with friends. Some visit your altar within the Akademiya, and others pray at home.

Nahida sits on a branch of the great tree that houses the knowledge many wish to obtain, in her hands an ancient seed of fate, she herself has no memory or knowledge of where it came but holds ot and teasures its existence. For she has a kindling that it is tied to this divine spirit that is expected to awaken. From her small conversation with Apep, the seed is treasured. Hence, she holds it and feeds the growing plant bits of dendro elemental energy. She sighs as she watches the sun set and the cheers from the streets and grand bazars performances. Nilou must be dancing now, she thinks. She hums a small song while kicking her feet, her hands warm with caution. She may not know you yet, but she knows already... Your spirit and divine will watch for her and her nation. The goddess of wisdom has many questions for the great creator of this world, but for now, she just hums and sits happily, a great birthday gift indeed.

Meanwhile, in Fontaine, similarly, it is deemed a weekend off of work. Many go home, some go to the Opera to catch performances of the holiday, others read tabloids of the steambird that some random person in the court has the great divine in their basment all along. All fiction truthfully. Furina reads her book as she makes another plate of pasta macaroni. For the occasion, she bought extra special ragau to taste amazing. She dances around her kitchen listening to soft music. For years her mind would have doubted and even hated this day, anxious fears of disappointment and disapproval looks from her days as stabding archon. Would you have hated her? Did you think she failed fontaine and you? Was her a cursed human taking title of archon an insult to you? Furina had nightmares even of the prohecy and your return to see fontaine gone and underwater. But now, as the prophecy and fontaine were safe and out of fear, she ate and asked a good question this new century.

"What kind of pasta would their grace like..."

Soft rainfall drops onto the steps of the Palais Mermonia, the evening rain was forcasfed but welcomed, Neuvillette wrote on the papers softly, agreeing to a few celebratory events the Opera wanted to hold. Usually Lady Furina would be jumping for the task but here he was. Dread builded in his soul. This time of year brought many pains to Neuvillette.

A new century meant a new set of hundreds of years he gets to oulive humans, melusines maybe, but also the clock inches closer and closer to your return. Neuvillette spent early years of his lofe researching and discovering his species and kind for decades. Figuring that if you are the forefather and creator of vishaps and the sovereignty. Why was so many things done the way they were? Why ddi the power the gnosis and archons hold come from them? Why can't he understand your implications, even such his ancestors didn't wish to think against? What power do you hold and how did aid Fontaine in the end? He knew Focalor and Egeria spoke to you, even asking for forgiveness before your departure, so why? Neuvillette, places his pen downs and stands to look out the window of his office to look down at the streets of the Court of Fontaine, a glass of crisp water swirls in his hand. He sips slowly and sighs, coming to think.

"In this new century...please with it, may you come along too my grace."

In the nation of fire, victory, war and passion, raors could be heard from the stadium of flames as people of different tribes shouted and cheered the competitions down below. Surfing races, climbing achievements, conbat bouts, even break dancing competitions held. Mavuika sits at her throne above as her people cheer and celebrate, raising glasses, foods, gifts, and money even in your image. She slips away from the fesitivites to be alone in the speakers chambers, past the sacred flame, and into her personal get-away. Now empty, she stares at the famous wheel of the sun, Natlan has held for centuries, the same you blessed the first pyro archon with, as their rules of ruilibg were left in your favor. She smiles as she too holds her head high, similar to her ancestors before her.

She remebers before she was even archon, how her parents would tell stories of the Great divines influence, love, and power. That the spirit of victory belongs to the pyro archon yes, but the strength was given by you as well. She remembered your fave engraved in ancients temples and stones around Natlan and now some statues around the lands too. She knows too well her nation is blessed by your, not only for the peoples cheers and vitcories but the long-lasting stay they've had against the threat of the abyss thus far. Maybe when you return and ward off the abyssal threats for good, she top could ask something of you...for that she won't know until she sees you herself.

"Until we meet my grace...may your memeory burn eternal.. and your power live within my people."

-> Did i go overboard, yes...but eh...hoped you enjoy, and also i may make a small series out of this..who knows..

[lowkeyrobin]

Platonic Ghostbusters x social media manager! Reader?

oooo hell yeah!! ; thanks for requesting and I hope u enjoy :)

GHOSTBUSTERS ; social media manager

summary ; you run the official ghostbusters social media platforms

warnings ; language

word count ; 746

masterlist

Podcast wanted to run the official Ghostbuster social media's but was quickly turned down at that. They needed someone who could actually be on top of that kind of stuff and whatnot. So, Stanz made a deal with Podcast that they'd get a social media manager, and he could act as their teammate with that, basically. Giving them ideas, giving them video clips and extra details, etcetera.

Most of the others didn't see a real reason for a social media manager, but as long as it wasn't their money.

Trevor offered to just do everything himself, but that was obviously turned down as well. The teens all agreed not to let the adults run the account either. They didn't need millennial - Gen X / Boomer humor flooding the whole account and making them look bad.

And that's where you came in.

surprisingly, Pheobe was the one to find you. she's seriously the most chronically offline person ever so the fact she ever opened Instagram was a miracle in itself

lots of talking back and forth and meeting the original four three ghostbusters to get input, then meeting callie & garry and the teenagers

you actually figured out that you used to be friends with Lucky as well, damn

you had managed social media accounts before, but you'd recently quit a few of those because of labor laws being broken so, yknow

you quickly formed a bond with Lucky, Trevor, and Podcast. you were kind of close in age to all three of them and they were all invested in the public image for the brand

setting the Instagram up was genuinely the funnest thing ever

the four of you were chilling in the living room in the firehouse (since sleepover stuff, pheobe was in her room reading) and you had your laptop in your lap and the three of them over your shoulders

the amount of laughing and cackling got some scolding from callie upstairs

it took everything out of you to not make the first post a video of trevor being soaked in Slimer's slime (which had been recorded by Lucky just by coincidence as they were investigating the attic again)

the first three posts, which were pinned, all lined up to be like a banner kind of logo with the theme song in the back, and they all played the same video, clips of the og ghostbusters and how they grew and then the new ghostbusters

the tiktok is its own thing, you allowed trev, lucky, podcast (and pheobe) to run it, but everything had to be ran by you first because pr shit

but thankfully no boomer humor or slang is ever being put on those accounts

most of those people don't even know wtf the internet is anyways lol

stanz has a personal vendetta against you /hj after you posted a .5 of him for relatable promo. he had no idea what you were doing but it was criminal that you made his forehead look so much more bigger than it already was

Winston gives you a bunch of old pics to post to trending angst sounds as well LOL

let's not talk about that tiktok where you, lucky, and trevor dance to/remake submissive and breedable by smosh ft bbno$, okay?

^podcast and pheobe were behind the camera cackling the whole time

lots of random pic posts on the insta as well because why not (most of them are the teens looking awkward, callie, gary & lars trying to look like cool scientists, or venkman, stanz, zeddemore & melnitz being classic, sassy old people)

the socials are never professional whatsoever, it's fun but it's not heavily controversial or obvious that you're there as a pr manager basically or just to manage the socials

like man they don't have the time to look at all the comments, take all the advice, reply to fans, etc

I mean that wage ain't that bad either LMAO

trevor is always bitching about how you make more money than he does /lh

you're not just a representative to them, you're actually family. you're just cool like that

"bro y/n is such a mc I hate them" and you'll reply on your personal w a "says you, reality shifter" or smthn LMAO idfk

always reposting ghostbuster edits / fanart etc because fandom culture 🙏

also I can't get over the fact the ghostbuster theme song is canon now either. yk damn well that shit is plastered everywhere thanks to you 💀

"do the ghostbusters respond??" "stanz said he loves your dog" "HELP HSEIJDLAKE"

10/10 experience

[hugemilkshake]

FANFIC MATSER LIST PART 2

Second Masterlist because tumbler only lets you have 100 links per post-

Key

Romantic 💕

Platonic 🌸

Romantic or Platonic 🍁

Angst 🫧

Yandere 🥀

Silly 🍡

Unsure ❓

Scenarios-Oneshots

Touch some grass🍁

Detective partners🌸

The terror that dashed through the night🌸

Shy sailor 🥀🍁

Random children??? 💕🍡

Remove distractions🍁🫧

Tackle him💕

Y/N dance🍡

Confession💕

Like an open book💕🫧

Space away from a dragon🍁

A love not meant to be💕🫧 (I like this one)

Detective Almond Cookie🍁

Saved by the plot🌸

Some white lily thing❓

Somewhat plot relevant?- self aware Au🌸

Cowardly player- self aware Au🌸

Panicking because of plot relevance- self aware Au🌸

A dear friend🌸

Obvious to law enforcement💕

Dragon? No. Cookie.🌸

Smithery of Cuddles💕

Falling for law enforcement💕

I’m better than you!💕

Unlucky much?🍁

Arrows on deaf ears🫧

Need assistance?🍁🫧

Purify the Darkness 🍁🫧

Darkness consumed a friend 🍁🫧

Who told you?!🌸

Road Trip Time!🌸

After the road trip 🌸

Darkness isn’t always bad..? 🌸

Too spicy!! 💕

A cozy home 🍁

A lovely invitation 💕

Part time roommate 🍁

False ruler 🌸

Headcannons

Butter Roll cuddling🍁

Cherry Blossom picnic🍁

White lily picnic🍁

Romantic Golden Cheese💕

Y/N scared of spiders🍡

Yandere ancients x ancient reader🥀🍁

Capsaicin with a menthol reader💕

Stormbringer cuddles🍁

Elder Faerie with an easily lost reader🍁

Cinnamon cookie with hypnotist reader🍁

Dragons with aggressive reader🍁

Royal margarine cuddles🍁

Smoked cheese with alicorn reader🍁

Dragons with flower sickness reader🍁🫧

Dragons with a sick reader🍁

Caviar with a reader who has scars🍁

Father Millennial Tree🌸

Dark Cacao with a sick child🌸

Matcha cookie cuddles🍁

Dragon with a pale aliment reader🍁

Dark Cacao with a sick child pt 2🌸

Guardian of all dragons🌸

Baumkuchen with his spouse 💕

Affogato with a manipulative reader 🍁

Fluffy Golden Cheese headcannons 🍁

The triple cone principles trying to have reader join their school 🥀🌸

Burning Spice dating headcannons 💕

First Grain with a Chubby reader 💕

Peach Blossom with an immortal reader 🍁

How the ancients would react to being rejected 🥀💕

Burning spice reacting to reader being hurt🍁

Carameleon cookie with a mermaid reader🌸

Golden Cheese kingdom friendship headcannons! 🌸

Yandere ancients with an adventurous reader 🥀🌸

Pitaya, Ananas and Lotus getting rejected 🥀💕

Dragons reacting to your birthday! 🍁

Doodles

Cream unicorns horse form🍡

Almond with a 7ft tall reader🍡

Star Dust school Au🌸

Pitaya and reader selfie! 🌸

OC Stuff

The other patrons🌸

Chilling with the patrons💕

Conversations🌸

Tease that “dragon”🍁

Greed🌸

Game night🌸

Date gone wrong🍁

Metal tail?🌸

Bug Pile! 💕🌸

Blinding light❓

OCs reacting to getting proposed to 💕

Wild Basil with a gullible child reader 🌸

Wild Basil (and purple mold) with a child reader 🌸

Reader and the H2O Bros 🌸

Barbecue “Dragon” with a reader who accepts him as he is 🌸

Purple Mold with a chubby reader 🍁

Parental responsibility 🌸

How my ocs would react to being kissed💕

Walks and Dates 💕

Blackberry Shade x Timid Reader 💕

Barbecue “dragon” x Timid Reader 💕

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight: The Gay Angst of Low Expectations

Others are going to say much better things about the romantic stuff going on in Last Twilight this week, but I want to focus on how Day seems himself relative to August. The biggest thing that stood out to me this episode is that Day sees himself in a way that reads unworthy of August.

When we saw their flashback to their time as teammates, August is annoyed with Day a lot, and Day is always apologizing for any of their failures. He then spends an entire night exhausting himself to practice more. August recognizes Day's determination and begins to treat him seriously. They begin to win. When they stumble into each other, August is understandably hurt that Day didn't tell him directly what was going on. I enjoyed the Bond Between Men that they had formed as teammates and how earnestly August insisted that he wouldn't partner with anyone else but Day. It was also clear to me by all the hand holding that August feels something for Day.

However, when August doesn't show up for their dinner, Day was willing to wait more than seven hours for August to show up. He said that August is always like this, and blames himself for thinking August would actually want to see him. He describes their partnership as an arranged marriage to win championships, one where he struggles to befriend August and regularly works to appease August's temper for them to win championships. He admits he actually did like August, but regrets not saying anything when he could still see his face.

Then, August walks up and sees Mhok about to confess something to Day, noticing the flower and running his eyes over Mhok repeatedly. He hears Day's comment about liking August, shakes his head no, and walks away.

What stands out for me here is that August knew Day would be waiting for him. What he wasn't counting on what Mhok being there and clearly being some sort of rival. It was clear to me in the locker room scene that August also feels something for Day as well. I am going to be thinking about the fact that these two were unable to tell each other how they felt all this time. I'm thinking about how August probably felt hurt that Day didn't believe in him enough to tell him directly. I think about how Day always prioritized August over himself, and didn't feel like he could stand up to August.

It brings me back to the dynamic between Andi and Jonah in Andi Mack, my favorite Disney original tv show. For the other millennials out there who watched Disney Channel growing up, Andi Mack is a show by Terri Minsky (creator of Lizzie Maguire) with similar themes as her original show. Andi, who is like Lizzie, has a thing for Jonah Beck, who is like Ethan Craft. She has been hanging around him all season and joined the Frisbee club for him. In episode 9, Andi and the girls at school stage a protest about the school's dress code for picture day by wearing prison outfits. Jonah doesn't know what's going on and insists that Andi wear the team shirt for the picture. Andi, frustrated, demands Jonah tell her what her protest is about and then she'll wear the shirt. Jonah doesn't know, and Andi is hurt by this, but steels herself for the girl issues they're trying to solve.

Later, we get this apology scene.

Please watch this in full. This is one of my favorite romantic/platonic breakups in history. I love that Andi recognizes the power she gave Jonah over her. Jonah never asked for this power, but Andi still let him use it. This scene is important because she firmly takes that power back.

What I want more than anything from Day and August is for Day to take the power he gave August back from him. August may have a huge personality and a temper, but they can't be good to each other if Day is always going to be afraid of him.

So, while I am frustrated with August for standing Day up for hours without explanation, I am going to glare at him for knowing Day would still be there waiting. I want to see them unpack this expectation that Day will always WAIT for August. If August likes Day and also knows this, it's something the both of them need to face.

I'm all about the gay angst of knowing you like him but not being sure if he likes you. I'm here for the gay angst of being unsure about changing the relationship in your Warrior's Bond forged in the fires of competition. I'm all for the gay angst of thinking you'd lost him and wanting to take the chance that presented itself again. However, I don't want Day to always put himself second behind August, especially because August, like Jonah, never asked Day to do that for him.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ahhh i love it!! Here some more Cookies for the peaceful human/witchs HCs!!

Rockstar, Vampire, Werewolf, Cotton, Herb, Fire Spirit, and Wind Archer-!

Rockstar

Although a bit wary at first, he totally vibes with you once you insist you're not evil anymore.

Ofc he doesn't hang out with you very long.

He's got fans to give autographs to (lucky for you, he signs one of your spellbooks) and concerts to play!

He couldn't keep his future audiences waiting. You can understand that.

But as a subtle reference to his encounter with you, he dedicates his next song to cookies who "believe anyone can be good if they tried".

Vampire

Oh? You're a friendly witch? Cool.

He's the most chill about it tbh.

All he's really interested in is your stash of grape juice. Nothing more.

He was dying of thirst (no literally, he snuck in through the window as his bat form just to get a taste of grape).

Most of the day he's just lazing around, watching you bake with no desire to leave anytime soon. And he asks you what it's like being human, getting into a deep discussion about it.

You're amused at how other witches' mistakes result in the creation of interesting cookies.

Werewolf

He hid near your hut after accidentally hurting someone, changing back to normal once they were gone.

But as he laments over his actions, he hears the door open. You spotted him.

Out of instinct he transforms again, though your magic aura calms him enough to change back--which exhausts him and makes him pass out.

Once he awakens, he sees you reading a normal book and wonders why you helped him.

When he questions you, you reassure him you're a good witch. And while skeptical he decides to believe you.

Even a witch like you was nicer than his own kind

Cotton

Lately she's been down on her luck with writing, struggling to find inspiration.

But when she overhears about you, a friendly witch, she grows to admire you (platonically of course) a lot! So she tries writing you sweet letters.

"Most witches are ugly inside and out, but you're not Most Witches...oh no this is bad."

After much trial and error she finally makes an...okay enough letter to send you.

It definitely warms your heart when you receive it, and you know the kind of cookies who'd write these.

So Cotton is shocked when a letter of thanks is sent to her this time.

Herb

When he's cornered by you, he's like "do whatever you want with me but PLEASE don't hurt my plants!!!!!!!"

And he's polite about it...even though he's sweating.

Man just wants to water his flowers in peace, but oddly enough you aren't threatening to eat him or anything.

Instead you ask about his plants and he awkwardly tells you about each one.

When he asks why you're so nice, you just calmly explain you'd like to make peace with the cookies, and talking to a gentleman like him seemed to be a good place to start!

Fire Spirit

He was definitely the most remarkable Cookie to come out of the oven (despite his claims of hailing from Dragon's Valley), being able to use the flames to his advantage.

When he confronts you in hopes of taking your kind down, he's caught off guard when you're just like "okay good luck on your quest, Great Fire Spirit!"

"...that means you, too!! I'm all fired up-!"

"I'm not your enemy. My neighbor, on the other hand..."

He's confused as hell when you speak ill of your fellow witches, but realizes you're serious.

He appreciates your compliment, so he decides not to burn your hut down. And instead burns your neighbor's.

Wind Archer

Witches are the main harbingers of darkness, so it makes sense that he seeks to eliminate your kind.

But to his surprise you have a change of heart, being humane and generous to cookies that you bake.

Even the Cookiemals seem to trust you a lot (they were naïve sometimes but would never be stupid enough to blindly trust their enemy), convincing him to visit you so he could see for himself.

He speaks to you with an abundance of caution, warning you to stay away from the Millennial Tree.

Of course, you promise and wish him luck on his mission.

[eoncafe]

Hello! , is it okay if i request a millennial tree x ex-deity (who disquised as a citizen becouse got tired of the deity life-) reader?

oooh this should be interesting. sure thing anon!

——

pairing(s): millennial tree x reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)

type: oneshot

warnings: kinda angsty :”

reader type: gender neutral (they/them), deity

currently listening: pokemon super mystery dungeon OST - tree of life: trunk (1:24 onwards is absolutely magical and makes me think of MT and this song feels fitting for this one shot in particular)

notes: kinda short? i used a lot of big words, a lot more eloquent than what i’m used to but i thought it would fit. it seems i cannot write Millennial Tree without there being some angst involved. i can unpack that later though

——

It was rare for Millennial Tree Cookie to ever appear outside the temple. Yet here he was, walking amidst common townsfolk like there was no problem, ignoring any stares he’d get.

He had sensed your power from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Yes, you had perfectly merged and blended with modern civilization, growing tired of your duties. Was it cowardly to abandon your true self and flee responsibility? Perhaps, but you were past caring, and had maybe even started to forget.

Though in the dark recesses of your mind it occasionally crept back in. A surge of power, a look from a stranger, a stab of remorse and guilt. You didn’t want to go back to your old ways, but the pull grew stronger everyday.

And now, *he* was here, standing before you, staring down at you with that ever gentle face. Yes, the god saw right through you, and you knew there was no hiding from him.

“Why?” Were the first words out of his mouth. “Why do you hide from yourself?”

“I have no reason not to,” You replied simply. “I do not wish to go back, nor do I have a need. This world no longer requires my power. I got…bored.” Excuse after excuse tumbled from your mouth.

Millennial Tree merely tilted his head. “You cannot run from it, dear one. You know this. You will have to return sooner or later and face yourself and your past.”

“But does that have to be now?” You questioned pointedly, forcefully, making the elder god take a small step back. “I want to remain the way I am now, among mortals who will never understand me but whom I find more comfort and solidarity in than I ever did with my old life.” your voice shook slightly at the last bit. What a lonely existence you lead.

He bowed his head. “It does not have to be now. But please,” he reached forward, grabbing your hand, gently caressing it with a thumb. “wait for me. And when the time is right, return to us. I will welcome you with open arms.”

You felt your eyes water slightly as a painful lump formed in your throat and all you could do was nod in silent promise.

[jaalismyhusband]

Took you long enough

Title: Took you long enough

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x f!reader

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, explicit language, age gap, corruption kink if you squint

Wordcount: 2.9k

Masterlist

To say that these past few months have been stressful is an understatement. You were an aspiring actress and somehow landed a pretty big role in a movie. It already had some famous names attached to it and you were quite intimidated to star along the other actors. But nonetheless, you put on your big girl pants and took the opportunity. Caught in a loop of constant stress, memorizing the lines, filming the scenes, promoting the movie, you had only so much time to really appreciate what was going on. It was only after the first month of filming you realized what the hell was actually happening.

Your co-star Sebastian Stan has helped you a lot with handling everything. You remember, when you found out he was starring in the movie as well, you almost passed out. Getting to know him was such a surreal experience. Although you had a big crush on him, you stayed respectful towards him and you two became rather close friends.

To be honest, the more you got to know him, the more you liked him. And this time it wasn’t just a platonic crush. You tried to fight it, but your struggles were fruitless. You had it bad for your best friend. Acting on your feelings was not an option however. It was no secret that no woman occupied his bedroom for more than one night. You knew it was bad news to fall for him, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You liked how he didn’t pretend, but actually listened to you. How he seemed to remember even the little details you mentioned to him. How protective he was of you from the day you met, especially while defending you when people called you “the new kid” - the nickname stuck with you during the whole period of filming, much to your dislike. You knew they meant well when they called you that nickname, trying to make you feel like a part of the group. You were much younger than most of the cast, but you didn’t think of yourself as a child anymore. It seemed impossible to convince others of that, though.

Only a few people respected you enough not to use that nickname - one of them being Sebastian. At times you thought he didn’t see you as a kid with the way he treated you and you were naïve enough to get your hopes up. That was a mistake, you thought, as you watched the interview Sebastian had done earlier that day. He was asked about the cast members. You anxiously waited for your name to be mentioned, palms sweating as you guessed what he would say about you.

“What about Y/N? You seem close, not to mention how often you are spotted together.” The interviewer raised his brow, as he waited for an answer.

Sebastian smiled widely as he answered: “Yeah, we are really close. She’s like a little sister I never had, you know?”

Your heart clenched painfully, as you stopped the video. You just had to accept that it would never work. How could you be so stupid to think he’d actually like you, when he had so many women at his feet, begging to be noticed by him. You were thankful you were his friend - that had to be enough. It wasn’t, though. No matter what you told yourself, you always ended up thinking about him in inappropriate ways.

The door on your trailer opened and revealed happy Sebastian with take out.

“Hey, I thought to bring you some food, since it’s going to be a long day today.” He smiled at you as he sat down next to you on the couch, handing you your food.

“Thanks.” You smiled back. You didn’t waste time and dug in, only now realizing how hungry you were. He seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

Sebastian broke the comfortable silence: “Hey, so, I want to ask you for advice.” Did he seem nervous? No, you thought as you hinted him to ask away.

“There’s this woman, that I like. I shouldn’t, but something about her is so intriguing, I can’t help it. And I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“I can’t believe you are asking me for an advice on how to pick up women. You getting rusty, old man?” You joked, as his face fell in disappointment.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I think I’m ready to go all the way with her. But she’s not really – uhm, how to put it – available. That’s why I’m so nervous about it,” he sighed, as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Right, sorry. But still, I think you’re perfectly fine. Just ask her out. She’d be stupid to reject you,” you spoke sincerely.

“Thanks, I’ll go for it then.”

The rest of the lunch was enjoyed in silence.

Few days have passed and your mood seem to only decrease as the time went on. You secretly hoped Sebastian was talking about you and that he would ask you out later. But this was your life, not a romcom. Your hopes were crushed, when you asked Sebastian about it and he confirmed what seemed like your worst nightmare.

“She said yes!” he exclaimed excitedly and you gave him a hug to hide the mixture of unpleasant emotions plastered on your face.

“I’m so happy for you,” and you were, truly. As long as he was happy, you would be too. But why did it hurt so much anyway?

Ever since then, you just weren’t your ever smiling self. What you were was a millennial and you did what millennials knew best – repressed your emotions. Stuffed them deep inside your soul where nobody could acknowledge them, not even you.

The days seemed repetitive. You were exhausted from putting up a show not only when you were filming, but now also when you were in a company of your friends. Luckily, there was only one scene to film and then a much needed vacation awaited.

“CUT!” screamed the director. “What the hell Y/N?! This is the seventh take and you still can’t get it right.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get it this time, I swear,” you apologized and immediately took your spot, wanting nothing more, than to finish this scene, go home and curl up in bed while watching your favourite show.

Today was just one of those days, when it seemed like the whole universe conspired against you. First, your alarm didn’t go off, which resulted in being late on your last day. Your hands were shaking by the time you got to the set and you managed to knock over the cup of coffee, just barely missing your costume. Not to mention how anxious you were, since you were purposely avoiding Sebastian. You only missed him more and yet, you couldn’t stand being in his presence. It hurt not being able to look into his eyes. This all held you back from giving a flawless performance in front of the camera, which only frustrated you even more.

“We believe in you, kid. Breathe, focus. Action!” You were truly thankful for the support, as you finally got the scene right.

“And cut! We got it! Ok, that’s it, guys. It’s been pleasure to work with you all. As you may have heard, there will be an afterparty, if you will, tonight. Please, do come! Till then have a great day everyone!” Finished the director and people started to clap. There has been a heavy boulder of a rock lifted from your shoulders as you realized this was it. You quickly said your goodbyes to everyone, eager to go home and hide.

“Y/N! Wait!” you were on your way out when you heard your name being called. You sighed and put on a smile, before you faced Sebastian.

“Hi, I’ve tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up. You’ve been distant lately. Have you been avoiding me?” He accused.

“No! No, I uh… My phone has been malfunctioning these days, I’m getting it repaired soon,” you weren’t proud of yourself for lying to him, but you weren’t ready to tell him the truth just yet.

“Are you coming to the afterparty?” It was obvious he didn’t buy your white lie, but decided not to ponder on it.

“Oh, I don’t think I am. I’ve had an extraordinarily shitty day and I don’t wanna be a party pooper.” You immediately gave him a list of excuses.

“Yeah, yeah, quit it, queen. I’ll pick you up at 7.” He left you no space to argue and just walked away. You shook your head in disbelief and made your way home.

“Finally,” you exhaled a big breath once you collapsed on your bed. Sleep was an alluring way how to avoid your problems. So, you did the reasonable thing and took a nap.

You woke up right as the sun was setting. You still hadn’t decided if you were going to go to that stupid get together or not. You knew it would be a nice change of pace, to let go for one night. Afterall, it was a celebration of the hard work the cast had done. On the other hand, Sebastian would be there. And now that you thought about it, he would probably bring that woman, he asked out earlier. You weren’t ready to see Sebastian all lovey dovey with someone else, god no.

But this was also the chance to see him for the last time. You weren’t sure if he would keep hanging out with you after the movie was done. Tears stung in your eyes as you realized that he would probably cut ties with you. Sure, you would call each other once a week, then once a month, then only on holidays and then he would eventually stop calling you whatsoever. You were going to lose him. You were so sure of it. The tears were now streaming freely down your cheeks as you hyperventilated. All of those emotions that were supposed to stay stored away came at you at once, demanding to be experienced, to be felt.

You couldn’t calm down and there was only one person who was able to soothe you. Your best friend from high school. Due to your career you two weren’t hanging out as often as you’d like, but your bond hadn’t suffered because of that. You dialled her number after you blew your nose, so you were able to somewhat form words.

“Hi, Y/N! Oh my god, it’s been so long since we’ve actually talked!” You sobbed even harder when you heard her enthusiastic voice.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” she pleaded, as you tried to calm yourself enough to talk.

“Today has just been such a shitshow,” you cried out. You told her all about your day, but the topic soon enough changed to the real reason why you were crying – Sebastian.

“You know what’s the worst thing? I love him. So fucking much. And I know he doesn’t feel the same. He sees me as his little sister. SISTER. No way he would be attracted to someone he considers a sibling. Oh, and have I mentioned that now he’s suddenly had a change of heart and stopped sleeping with random women because he mEt SoMEoNe sPeCiaL?” you mocked him, “I just can’t. I know that I did this to myself and it’s not his fault, but fuck! I can’t even tell him how I feel, because there is only one scenario to this – him ending our friendship because of it. I don’t know if I’m ready to lose him completely.” You kept on rambling as your supportive friend listened, offering you her kind words here and there.

Soon after she apologized profusely, as she explained her break was over and she had to get back to work. You assured her it was okay and that you were thankful she found some time to listen to you pour you broken heart out through the phone. She ended the call by reminding you that she loved you and hung up.

You sighed and blew your nose again. You stood up from your bed, taking the used tissues with you.

“Fuck.” You stopped dead in your tracks, feeling like a deer in front of a headlights. There stood a very shocked Sebastian.

“How did you get here?”

“I came to pick you up, remember? Front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. You didn’t respond when I called your name. I looked for you and found you here, crying,” his voice cracked at his last words: “I have never seen you cry before.” He seemed truly sad, but you were too frightened to notice.

“How much of it did you hear?”

“Everything.” He exhaled and you struggled to meet his gaze. You huffed, storming out of your bedroom, leaving him behind. You just wanted to disappear right on the spot and avoid this confrontation.

You almost ran to the kitchen, throwing the tissues to the bin. You hoped this was all just a bad dream and that in fact Sebastian wasn’t here, but all that convincing was futile once you turned around and saw him sitting in your kitchen. There was a tense silence, as none of you knew what to say next. The air grew heavy, suffocating you.

“So,” Sebastian cleared his throat, “you like me?” To which you only nodded, as you leaned on the counter.

“Why?” he asked. You laughed at that, the sound so alien to you because of all the crying.

“You were nice to me from the first day. You gave me a chance to get to know you. Once we started hanging out I just, I don’t know. I like how you talked to me, like I wasn’t just the new kid. You actually listened to what I had to say. You made me feel special, Seb. Not to mention, you look like a fucking Greek god,” he chuckled at that.

“Weren’t you discouraged by my age? Or the fact that ‘I slept with random women’?” he asked, using your words against you.

“Well, I can’t blame you for that. And I can’t blame those women either. And your age never bothered me. In fact, it’s just another thing about you that turns me on.” You realized too late what you were about to say and just said it. Your eyes widened and your face heated up, as you tried to shrink your existence and hide from Sebastian’s piercing gaze.

“I turn you on?” Sebastian asked, amused by how embarrassed you were. He stood up and walked up to you. You shied away, but he trapped you in between his arms against the counter, so you wouldn’t run.

“I’d like your advice on something,” he started as he looked you straight in the eyes, “There’s this girl I’ve befriended. She’s really young and innocent, like an angel. I think I liked her right from the start, but I knew I wasn’t good for her. And yet, I can’t help but be attracted to her. I’ve tried to forget, but all those meaningless nights and faceless women couldn’t fill the void. Couldn’t erase the feelings she brought up in me every time I thought of her, saw her, touched her. I think about her almost every night. About how I’d hold her, kiss her, make her moan my name.” You squirmed under his gaze, but he paid no mind as he continued his monologue: “I fantasize about deflowering her, turning her into a mess, while I transform her into my greedy whore. The image makes me painfully hard. And now, I have a chance to make her mine. What do you say, doll? Should I go for it?” You gasped at his confession and only weakly nodded.

His lips met yours in a desperate kiss. It was all tongue and teeth. He wasn’t gentle with you by any means, not that you wanted him to be. His hands pulled you impossibly close, as they squeezed your ass, making you moan into the kiss. You both had to stop and take a breath, your foreheads connecting as you panted.

“I made her up, you know,” spoke Sebastian softly.

“What?”

“The woman. She doesn’t exist. It was you who I’ve been talking about, but then I chickened out.”

“Why?” you were curious and anxious at the same time to hear his answer.

“You called me an old man! I thought you would be creeped out!” he got defensive.

“That was a joke, Seb,” you laughed, “Why did you tell me that she accepted?”

He awkwardly scratched his neck, as he mumbled: “I didn’t want to disappoint you, that your advice hadn’t worked.” You just burst out laughing at that. Sebastian didn’t like that, as he faked getting offended and hurt, which only caused to make you cry-laugh. You finally calmed down, after a while, only now seeing how Sebastian was watching you the whole time. He gently wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, as he held your face.

“I love you, Seb,” it felt good to finally say it out loud. You were absolutely lovestruck and at this point you didn’t care.

“Took you long enough,” you rolled your eyes at him, as he smirked.

“I love you too, doll.”

[prof-crushing]

To E: How did R first show you he might be interested in you, too; and are you still in love/committed in all ways to him?

Thanks for the ask!

Sorry it’s taken longer than I would’ve liked. I’ve been meaning to update the past week or 2, honestly not much has happened that I felt was noteworthy or worth sharing.

I’m very much in the mindset that he ultimately wouldn’t be interested. I don’t think he gets along with me as well a friend of ours that he’s known a little longer (she’s a little younger than I am) and idk how he feels about age gap relationships. As far as him actually willing to be in on and how far of a gap he’s comfortable with. I still really like him, idk to what levels. I still find him really attractive, but his age does show at times with his world views 😅 and I’m like “ah yes, a Gen X vs Millennial moment”😆. I do wonder if it keeps me emotionally reserved. As if I can’t really see others romantically, like I’ll look for a reason as to why I don’t like someone when I try to get into a relationship.

We’ll talk about relationships on and off this year. LIKE TODAY on the ride home, like 5 min before he drops me off at my place. He just asks me what “acts of service” is. And I told him that it’s a form of showing love as doing things for your partner or for your partner to do things for you vs touch to the levels of PDA or gift giving. And he drops on me that he really likes physical touch and quality time. Like he NEEDS physical touch with his partner. And I’m sitting there like “well alright good to know 😳” and I told him how I definitely know I need quality time and I tend to be flip-floppy on physical touch and it really depends on the person, even platonically. And it’s taken me a long time to be comfortable with hugging my friends that I’ve had since middle school.

He knows that I’m really inexperienced because of my insecurities and trust issues. And he’s told me that I still shouldn’t let that stop me.

And this time he also told me that he’s not super touchy with his platonic friends either, he doesn’t mind hugs but not super often. And it just made me think “idk man you’re probably the most touchiest person I’ve met with how you seem to have no trouble standing super close and all those grazing touches you tend to do.” And he’s the only person that I don’t mind that from and actually like it. Otherwise I hate it when people do similar grazing touches and stand close behind me.

Since the pandemic there's been a lot less but now that we’re back to hanging out more he’s been doing it again and god I’ve missed it.

And I’m tempted to text him and ask him where all this came from 😆

{Edit: Oop forgot to clarify when it started. I think it was because of all the touching and standing really close and a lot of eye contact. And it was just super easy to get on with him. And sometimes I feel bad because I’ve always been really bad with eye contact since I was a kid because of trauma. I’ve gotten better but it’s still a definite struggle}

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!! 

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish. 

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                           [~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love?  - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

  - What the fu-

 Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

 Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

 “You dye, you buy.”

 Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

 He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

 Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

 But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

 But…

 Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

 Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

 A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

 Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

 It was okay.

 They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

 It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

 Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

 Okay. Everything was okay.

 [~*~]

 Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

 The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

 It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

  CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!  

 [~*~]

 The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

 Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

 And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

 “Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

  [~*~]

 Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

 A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

 [~*~]

 Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

 He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

  It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

 He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

 Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

 ‘The First Step’.

 Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

 “Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

 “That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

 He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

 “Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

 “Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

 “I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

 “How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

 Silence followed his words.

 “Pat?”

 “What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

 “Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

 “Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

 Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

  “I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

 “You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

 “We’re on episode 19.”

  [~*~]  

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

 A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

 Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

 Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

 Or…

 Navy blue.

 Oh.

 He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

 Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

 This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

 No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

 Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

 …If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

 Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

 Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

 “It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

 A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

 “Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

 “Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

 “I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

 “He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

 “A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

 “Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

 “You should go sleep, then.”

 The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

 Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

 “I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

 Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

 Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits?  Does he even remember about him?

 Highly improbable.

 “You can call me Lo.”

 Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

 “Lo? Like Lowrance?”

 “Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

 Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

 …

 ‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

 ‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

 ‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

 His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

 ‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

 ‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

 Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

 ‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

 …

 “Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

 Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

 “Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

 “Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

 “Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

 “Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

 “Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

 Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

 “Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

  “Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

 Then he understood.

  His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

 “Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

 “Hello, Prince.”

 Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

 “I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

 “I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

 “Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

 Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

 “Make me, I dare you.”

 “Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

 “Eleven years.”

 “We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

 “Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

 “Yeah, I agree.”

 Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

[datodinicshit]

Saturday July 11th 2020

Devotee Challenge: Loki

How do you perceive Loki?

For the majority of the past six years I have perceived Loki mainly through emotional feedback and colors and very very rarely in dreams. I've always jived with the lanky redhead aspect that many see in the art that floats around in the Lokean circles. But I have also seen Loki as this aspect that is very much an "on the road" Trickster Face, with a heavily Lord of the Rings' Strider look to Them, but with brown skin, eyes like molten gold, and a broad sturdy build. I met that aspect in astral once and was absolutely delighted to, because it was one of about 5 singular meetings where I could actually see and identify Loki.

It wasn't until this year that I fully grasped why I could barely "hear" or "see" Loki.

I work closely with an aspect of Loki who is nonverbal or mute at times, and visually impaired or blind at times, and sometimes both.

So much of my past dealings with Loki and my perceptions of Loki have been filtered through emotional senses, and with an understanding that "Loki is quiet." Early on, this used to worry me. I would worry that Loki was hurt or exhausted or in need of a safe space to just rest. And so that is what I build a relationship on. I offered everything I wanted from Loki: safety, home, love, protection, laughter, somewhere to belong, family and acceptance.

So. I believe I get Bound Loki the most. Bound Loki or "Older Loki" or "been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, founded the support group and now I need retirement funds, Loki."

That's not the only side of Loki I get, but it's who I consider "home base."

That's how I perceive Loki when He's not a Xe or Them or Fox. Because I also perceived Loki as genderqueer and gender-fluid and non humanoid at times as well. Loki is after all a shape-shifting trickster and don't need no stinking gender or body rules, so put a star next to that or something.

Methods of Communication:

Best for me: tarot, dreams, empathy, synchronized signs, music, trance.

Loki prefers: I'm still working on this with Loki. It's been brought to my attention since discovering Loki is nonverbal / visually impaired at times that They want to work on communication more with me.

Historical: Runes. Universal methods? Prayer in general?

Is Loki often compared to other deities from different pantheons or cultures?

Yes. Loki is a trickster. They're compared and contrasted with or against other tricksters. Even, and this bugs me, with the Christian Devil or Satan. Loki is held up against beings such as other Trickster Spirits like certain Native American tribes' Coyote or Spider. And other pagan gods like: Hermes, Set, Mercury, and Manannán.

And the Chinese historical hero the Monkey King. And the Japanese god Susanoo. Just. You get the picture.

What kind of relationship do you want with Loki?

I want the relationship I've got with Them. One built on love and trust and companionship and the understanding that has blossomed from 6 + years of steady unwavering presence, even in times of silence and pain.

I want what I've got. I want what's good for us both. I want to never ever let Loki go. I want to grow with Them, alongside Them, closer to Them.

That's what I want. At least presently. There's always room for more.

Are we platonic?

We were. For years. We aren't anymore. As of about May/June of this year.

Do I worship them? Yes. Loki is 1/3 of my inner familial circle of gods. And Loki is the central pillar and the foundation of my faith. Loki is the blood of my spirituality and lives in the heart of it. He has an altar, though has always said it wasn't needed. (I buy Loki shit and They haven't minded in the past 6 years, so I see fit to keep it up.) The altar may not be needed but Loki appreciates the care.

How does your relationship affect your everyday life?

Loki keeps me sane. Loki is a constant in my daily life and has been since I came to Them. They're present everywhere I can shove pieces of Them. I wear and make jewelry that reminds me of Loki. I decorate my room with artwork that makes me think of Them. (Odin has also taken over Decor.) The media I love to consume. The blogs I've kept for years. The friends I've made and treasured. Loki is everywhere. And I wouldn't have Them any other way. Loki is integrated and rooted deeply in the garden that is Me. I prefer it that way. Loki is my comfort and safety. Loki is home.

What are Loki's interests outside of canon/lore?

Spongecake. They like it. *snorts* I had to. Sorry not sorry.

Well, I'd like to talk about the Super Soft shit we enjoy together. Loki is a bigger cuddler than I think they get credit for. Like, our naps? Hugs? Sharing blankets and curling up together? Fuck yeah.

Now, you must consider I work/live with a Loki who is A) a source of safety to me and B) hurting and tired a lot. So yeah. *shoves a Loki mug across the table* Fill that shit up with physical affection and positive touch.

*tries to think of shit that's not quite so gooey*

*buffering symbol*

Loki, for all that They're a mover-and-shaker, likes quiet. Loki appreciates sharing space calmly with people. Downtime and relaxing activities are a good. Whether it's bubble baths or watching mindless fluff TV or coloring books or just sitting together. Chilling out is a thing Loki likes and we enjoyed together.

"There's a time for work and a time for play and a time to sit the fuck down and rest." R&R is a Good in whatever form.

Loki also enjoys water. Like swimming, but also, Loki uses water metaphors and imagery with me a lot, even though They're fiery and whatnot. [Insert soundclip of Bruce Lee: "Be like water."]

Recon or No Recon?

No. No Recon. We die like Millennials at a family reunion during mealtime discussions. LOL I do both old and new things with Loki. But we're a free form, free-flowing, do-our-own-thing pair and I like it like that.

Is Loki proud or remorseful about Their lore?

Yes.

Both.

Both is good.

Look, part of being a trickster is teaching lessons in unorthodox and sometimes upsetting ways. But healing comes from the upset. New growth after the seasonal burn. That's Loki.

But Loki is not incapable of remorse. No God is incapable of remorse. But also, I feel the need to mention that while lore and history are very important to learn and acknowledge, the lore is not the be-all end-all. God's learn, adapt, grow and change just as we do.

What does Loki expect from the relationship?

We had a discussion. I got hit in the feels. Basically, we're on the same page. Loki expects me to continue growing with Them and expects to remain my safe harbor. The one I love in this deep-rooted way.

[irhinoceri]

I read “I Am The Messenger” by Markus Zusak several years ago, sometime between 2002 and 2005 (because I know it wasn’t brand new when I read it but I’m pretty sure “The Book Thief” hadn’t been published yet) and at the time I loved the book. I thought it was amazing. I vaguely remember thinking the ending was a bit anticlimactic, that the resolution to the mystery of who was sending the cards felt unsatisfying, but I loved the rest of the book so much I felt like hardly mattered.

Well... gosh.... hmmmm. I have very complicated feelings now, because I listened to the audiobook, and though the narrator being Australian really gave it that perfect voice that I wasn’t able to achieve in my head when I first read it, it was a slog. I thought about turning it off several times because I just couldn’t.... stand.... it.

And it’s making me think again about The Literary Discourse posts about whether a story is good or bad based on the moral conduct of the main character. And while Ed is certainly not the most unlikeable character ever, the really problematic aspects of both him as a protagonist and a POV character leapt out at me in 2021 the way they almost completely went past me in the early 00s. I was younger, I was far more conservative, so even reading books with swearing and sex and violence in them felt kind of revolutionary to me at the time, but still. I am trying to remember what it was that I liked about it.

Part of the problem is the textbook case of The Friendzone that runs throughout the book re: Ed being in love with Audrey who considers him her best friend and refuses to have a sexual relationship with him, though she comes to him for emotional intimacy and the sort of borderline sexual intimacy of being barely clothed around him, getting drunk and sleeping with him (platonically) all while maintaining vigorous sexual relationships with other boyfriends, who mostly go unnamed because they don’t matter.

In the end, of course, Audrey finally relents and comes to him and they get together, which feels hollow to me because a far more satisfying outcome would be for Ed to learn to move on and find someone else, or at least to let Audrey go (which he ostensibly does, but then he is “rewarded” for letting her go by her finally being willing to start a sexual relationship with him). And I’m just going.... why can’t he let her go and that’s it? Why can’t it be that he lets go of the desire to have a relationship she is not willing to give, and it truly does free him? That is a wonderful feeling. I’ve been “in the friendzone” as a girl in love with guys who valued me as a friend but found me sexually unappealing, and never once did it turn out where they finally woke up one day to realize that the emotional connection we had was more important than the sexual chemistry they had with the girls they actually wanted to date. You know what feels like Growth? The point where you realize that you don’t actually Want to date that person anymore, and the point where you are free from the desire and the unrequited yearning.

I wish more stories with Friendzone plots had the guts to end the story that way. Even (or especially) in a case like this where she’s constantly telling him that he’s her best friend and the only person she loves and that’s why she’d can’t have a sexual relationship with him and coming to him at night for cuddling after she’s had E rated fic levels of sex with her “boyfriend” she doesn’t Love.... like jeezus I do feel bad for the guy in the Friendzone when the story is framed like that, you know? And this is probably how most incels think of themselves, as the long suffering Only True Gentleman who is Better than the Chad getting all the pussy (even while he’s overcome with lust whenever the Love Interest enters the scene and we have at least a few sentence describing her hips and legs and breasts).

Anyway, at this point this particular phenomenon has been debated, hashed out, disproven, what have you.... so to re-read a story where it’s so firmly romanticized and realize I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it the first time around it was an eye-opener. I was torn between disgust at the protagonist for his constant objectification of Audrey and disgust with him for allowing her to emotionally manipulate him for literal years while she fucked around and kept him her back pocket (thus the near perfect embodiment of the highly sexual yet unattainable friendzoner). I was never rooting for them to become a couple. I was always rooting for Ed to get over her or for her to leave him him alone.

The other thing that really got to me was how Ed was stalking literally everyone in the story, including a 15 year old girl whom he lusted after despite repeatedly saying he wasn’t a creep and he wasn’t doing it For Those Reasons.... but it was Okay because stalking people to help them was the point of the whole story.

(Quick plot beak down... after foiling a bank robbery, 19-year-old taxi driver (it was 2002 so he’s basically an Uber driver) Ed Kennedy starts getting playing cards with cryptic messages on them, in the form of addresses or clues to addresses, and when he goes and stalks the people who live there, he figures out some way they need help in their lives and helps them, thus growing in confidence as a person along the way.)

At the end he’s helped a lot of people and learned to be a better person, almost a la Bill Murray in Groundhog Day... and the only thing left is to find out who has been sending him the playing cards and orchestrating events all along. Without spoiling it, the answer is very unsatisfying and unclear. It’s almost a precursor to the narrator/character of Death in “The Book Thief” but far less defined and a bit more like “Stranger Than Fiction” in a boring way.

The other thing that kept driving my a little crazy was the fact that Ed was only 19. I felt like I was reading about a guy in his 30s. He just felt like such an Old and Jaded character, and granted some 19-year-olds have lived harder lives or whatever... but also he had his own apartment and full time job and a close knit circle of friends he met up with in person regularly... and yet it was hammered home again and again that he was a loser. A pathetic person who hadn’t accomplished anything in life and never would.

Granted, it was 2002 when this book was published. But a 19-year-old with their own apartment and job? In THIS economy? And THREE (3) IRL friends whom he gets together with on a regular basis??? Okay so he’s not having sex, big deal. This guy is a fucking success by any millennial barometer, though I suppose a 19-year-old in 2002 would be a Gen Xer?? Hmmmm no I turned 17 in 2002 and I’m a millennial so... whatever. Tangent.

Anyway, the whole book hinges on this idea that he’s a total loser and needs to learn to.... connect with people... and make a difference in the world.... and ok look I’m not saying he shouldn’t be aspiring to bigger things than being an Uber driver, but I have a 39 year old friend who is an Uber driver! And he’s a cool guy and a smart person and is valued by his friends! It’s Okay! To have! A service job! And also he’s going back to school and trying to get his life back on track and all, which is good, and I’m not saying Ed shouldn’t do the same thing or whatever. But I don’t know, this story just feels so much more like it would hit harder if the protagonist was in his mid 30s instead of 19. I just felt like telling everyone, the author included, to chill the fuck out and lay off Ed for not being the fucking poet laureate of Australia (is that a thing?) or surgeon general at 19 years old, a year after his alcoholic father died. I will say it again: JEEZUS.

Also also there’s a pretty disturbing rape plot where Ed must save a woman from her rapist husband, and I’m not gonna say that much about it beyond the fact that hopefully we, as a society, can progress past rape plots that revolve around an outside male observer. I mean, good on anyone who tries to help someone who is currently trapped in a domestic abuse situation, but the particular way that plot was handled in this story was just all kinds of gross and it gets even worse in retrospect at the end.

This post is not meant as literary criticism. I have an English degree and I know that this post would not hold up as a paper by any stretch of the imagination, it would get an F as a work of literary criticism, this is just me thinking about how I feel now versus how I felt nearly 20 years ago when I loved this book.

[thevividgreenmoss]

Let’s remember what the left critique of Obama’s administration is. Leftists argue, roughly, that while Obama came in with lofty promises of “hope” and “change,” the change was largely symbolic rather than substantive, and he failed to stand up for progressive values or fight for serious shifts in U.S. policy. He deported staggering numbers of immigrants, let Wall Street criminals off the hook, failed to take on (and now proudly boasts of his support for) the fossil fuel industry, sold over $100 billion in arms to the brutal Saudi government, killed American citizens with drones (and then made sickening jokes about it), killed lots more non-American citizens with drones (including Yemenis going to a wedding) and then misled the public about it, promised “the most transparent administration ever” and then was “worse than Nixon” in his paranoia about leakers, pushed a market-friendly healthcare plan based on conservative premises instead of aiming for single-payer, and showered Israel with both public support and military aid even as it systematically violated the human rights of Palestinians (Here, for example, is Haaretz: “Unlike [George W.] Bush, who gave Israel’s Iron Dome system a frosty response, Obama has led the way in funding and supporting the research, development and production of the Iron Dome”). Obama’s defenders responded to every single criticism by insisting that Obama had his hands tied by a Republican congress, but many of the things Obama did were freely chosen. In education policy, he hired charterization advocate Arne Duncan and pushed a horrible “dog-eat-dog” funding system called “Race To The Top.” Nobody forced him to hire Friedmanite economists like Larry Summers, or actual Republicans like Robert Gates, or to select middle-of-the-road judicial appointees like Elena Kagan and Merrick Garland. Who on Earth picks Rahm Emanuel, out of every person in the world, to be their chief of staff?

Centrism and compromise were central to Obama’s personal philosophy from the start. The speech that put him on the map in 2004 was famous for its declaration that there was no such thing as “blue” and “red” America, just the United States of America. A 2007 New Yorker profile said that “in his skepticism that the world can be changed any way but very, very slowly, Obama is deeply conservative.” Obama spoke of being “postpartisan,” praised Ronald Reagan, gave culturally conservative lectures about how Black people supposedly needed to stop wearing gold chains and feeding their children fried chicken for breakfast. From his first days in office, there simply didn’t seem to be much of a “fighting” spirit in Obama. Whenever he said something daring and controversial (and correct), he would fail to stand by it. For example, when he publicly noted that the Cambridge police force acted “stupidly” in arresting Henry Louis Gates Jr. for trying to break into his own home, he followed up by inviting the police officer and Gates to sit down and talk things out over a beer. A disgusted Van Jones has characterized this as the “low point” of the Obama presidency, but the desire to be “all things to all people” had always been central to the Obama image. Matt Taibbi described him during his first campaign as:

…an ingeniously crafted human cipher… a sort of ideological Universalist… who spends a great deal of rhetorical energy showing that he recognizes the validity of all points of view, and conversely emphasizes that when he does take hard positions on issues, he often does so reluctantly… You can’t run against him on issues because you can’t even find him on the ideological spectrum.

Adolph Reed, Jr., who as early as 1996 had described the politics of “form over substance” being practiced by a certain “smooth Harvard lawyer with impeccable do-good credentials and vacuous-to-repressive neoliberal politics,” warned in 2008 that “Obama’s empty claims to being a candidate of progressive change and to embodying a ‘movement’ that exists only as a brand will dissolve into disillusionment,” and his presidency would “continue the politics he’s practiced his entire career.” Reed saw the devotion Obama inspired as a kind of “faddish, utterly uninformed exuberance” and said that Obama’s “miraculous ability to inspire and engage the young replaced specific content in his patter of Hope and Change.” (When Obama did get specific, Reed said, he often “relies on nasty, victim-blaming stereotypes about black poor people to convey tough-minded honesty about race and poverty,” talking frequently about “alleged behavioral pathologies in poor black communities.”)

Obama supporters think all of this is deeply cynical and unfair. But those who want to argue that Obama was the proponent of a genuinely transformational progressive politics, his ambitions tragically stifled by the ideological hostility of reactionaries, have to contend with a few damning pieces of evidence: the books of Pfeiffer, Rhodes, and Litt.

Granted, these men are all devoted admirers of Obama who set out to defend his legacy. But in telling stories intended to make Obama and his staff look good, they end up affirming that the left’s cynicism was fully warranted. Litt, for instance, seems to have been a man with almost no actual political beliefs. Recently graduated from Yale when he joined the campaign, he was never much of an “activist.” Litt was drawn to Obama not because he felt that Obama would actually bring particular changes that he wanted to see happen, but because he developed an emotional obsession with Barack Obama as an individual person. Pfeiffer feels similarly—he fell in “platonic political love.” Litt’s book begins:

On January 3, 2008, I pledged my heart and soul to Barack Obama… My transformation was immediate and all-consuming. One moment I was a typical college senior, barely interested in politics. The next moment I would have done anything, literally anything, for a freshman senator from Illinois.

He describes the beginning of his brainless infatuation: “[Obama] spoke like presidents in movies. He looked younger than my dad. I didn’t have time for a second thought, or even a first one. I simply believed.”

Litt’s memoir is remarkable for its lack of interest in actual policy. He mentions climate change in one or two sentences (p. 111), but seems to have spent most of his White House years preparing jokes for various black tie events like the Alfalfa Club Dinner and the Al Smith Dinner. (Litt’s rule for writing speeches for dinners of rich donors: “Jokes about money are acceptable… Jokes about power are not.”) Litt helped the president record videos for BuzzFeed (to get in touch with millennials), and Between Two Ferns (to plug the floundering healthcare.gov website), and to tape a birthday message for Betty White. But he was particularly in his element in preparing Obama’s annual comedy monologue for the White House Correspondents’ Dinner (WHCD). The WHCD, now thankfully gutted of its significance, was mocked outside Washington for the icky chumminess shown between political elites and the press corps. But Litt obsessed over it, and anecdotes about it take up page after page of his book. (An incident in which one of the president’s comedy PowerPoint slides failed to display correctly is told with dramatic flair over two full pages.)

This is the Washington of the Turkey Pardon and the Easter Egg Roll, where photo ops and symbolic gestures matter far more than such comparative trivialities as “what the actual policies of the administration are.” In fact, Litt even says that during the second term, he felt as if he was being given “the political equivalent of a vegan cookie” because the speeches he was writing focused on things that were “all nutrition, no taste” like “help[ing] more students pay off loans” and “insur[ing] more people.” He wanted to make jokes about Republicans, not try to talk to the American public about housing policy. In fact, Litt, Rhodes, and Pfeiffer all subscribe to a politics of gesture, where if you want to address some crisis you give a grand speech about it. One of Rhodes’ proudest moments is writing “the Middle East speech,” and describing a moment of political difficulty, Litt writes: “We needed something to break through. That something was a speech.” These three men are speechwriters, so we can forgive them for being preoccupied with descriptions of things rather than the things themselves. But this tendency to prioritize “getting the words right” over the actual experiences of human beings ran through the whole Obama presidency. Ordinary people were a kind of alien species—Litt says they referred to them as “real people (RPs)” and tried to litter speeches with “RP stories” to make them relatable. “In Washington you never stop hearing about the details of policy but you rarely see its effects.” This is only true if you rarely bother to examine the effects.

There may not have been much Change, but there were plenty of speeches about it. The economic situation of the average Black family may have been catastrophic under Obama, but he did give “the historic race speech.” The United States may have bombed an Afghan hospital, burning dozens of patients alive in their beds (their families each received $6,000 in compensation), but Obama gave a very powerful Nobel Peace Prize speech about how the pacifism of Martin Luther King needed to be balanced with a recognition that using force can be morally necessary.

…My colleague Luke Savage has analyzed how pernicious the influence of The West Wing was on a generation of young Democratic politicos, and sure enough Litt says that “like nearly every Democrat under the age of thirty-five, I was raised, in part, by Aaron Sorkin.” (More accurately, of course, is “nearly every wealthy white male Democrat who worked in Washington.” The near total absence of women and people of color in top positions on The West Wing may give more viewing pleasure to a certain audience demographic over others.) Litt says in college he “watched West WingDVDs on an endless loop,” and Pfeiffer too describes “watching The West Wing on a loop.”

Luke describes the kind of mentality this leads to: a belief that “doing politics” means that smart, virtuous people in charge make good decisions for the people, who themselves are rarely seen. Social movements don’t exist, even voters don’t exist. Instead, the political ideal is a PhD economist president (Jed Bartlet) consulting with a crack team of Ivy League underlings and challenging the ill-informed (but well-intended) Republicans with superior logic and wit. During the West Wing’s seven seasons, the Bartlet administration has very few substantive political accomplishments, though as Luke points out it “warmly embraces the military-industrial complex, cuts Social Security, and puts a hard-right justice on the Supreme Court in the interests of bipartisan ‘balance.’” It has always struck me as funny that Sorkin’s signature West Wing shot is the “walk and talk,” in which characters strut down hallways having intense conversations but do not actually appear to be going anywhere. What better metaphor could there be for a politics that consists of looking knowledgeable and committed without any sense of what you’re aiming at or how to get there? Litt says of Obama that “he spoke like presidents in movies.” Surely we can all see the problem here: Presidents in movies do not pass and implement single-payer healthcare. (They mostly bomb nameless Middle Eastern countries.)

Their West Wing-ism meant that the Obama staffers completely lacked an understanding of how political interests operate, and were blindsided when it turned out Republicans wanted to destroy them rather than collaborate to enact Reasonable Bipartisan Compromises. Jim Messina, Obama’s deputy chief of staff and reelection campaign manager, spoke to a key Republican staffer after the 2008 election and was shocked when she told him: “We’re not going to compromise with you on anything. We’re going to fight Obama on everything.” Messina replied “That’s not what we did for Bush.” Said the Republican: “We don’t care.” Rhodes and Pfeiffer, in particular, are shocked and appalled when Republicans turn out to be more interested in their own political standing than advancing the objective well-being of the country. Rhodes nearly has a breakdown when he is dragged through the conservative press over some Benghazi nonsense. He found himself in “an alternate reality that was insane,” and can’t believe Mitch McConnell turns out to be so “staggeringly partisan and unpatriotic” that he doesn’t care about Russian hacking.

The Obama Democrats, guided by the “let’s just all sit down in a room together and work out our differences” temperament of Obama himself, seemed desperate for Republican approval and shocked when the right proved unreasonable. In 2012, long after Messina had been told explicitly that Republicans were not going to be friendly under any circumstances, Obama invited congressional Republicans to the White House for a screening of Spielberg’s Lincoln, in order to show how political adversaries can cooperate for the common good. “Not one of them came,” Rhodes laments. Obama held out hope that a party willing to destroy the entire planet in order to preserve the privileges of the super-wealthy would come to his movie nights and work things out amicably.

The Obama administration bent over backwards to show that it was pragmatic and moderate and sensible, even inflicting cruel harm on families to show their toughness. Here is Tyler Moran, who was a deputy immigration policy director on Obama’s White House policy council:

There was a feeling that [the White House] needed to show the American public that you believed in enforcement, and that [we weren’t pushing for] open borders. But in hindsight I was like, what did we get for that? We deported more people than ever before. All these families separated, and Republicans didn’t give him one ounce of credit. There may as well have been open borders for five years.

We deported tons of people and separated families, and Republicans wouldn’t praise us!

This same bizarre naivete is evident in Obama’s dealings with Benjamin Netanyahu, as recounted by Ben Rhodes. Rhodes says it was obvious that “Netanyahu wasn’t going to negotiate seriously” about a just resolution to the Israel-Palestine conflict, and that Netanyahu “rejected any effort at peace.” Israeli settlements continued to be constructed in brazen violation of international law. Yet, Rhodes says, “despite Netanyahu’s intransigence, [Obama] would always side with Israel when push came to shove.” In 2011, the Obama administration vetoed a UN Security Council resolution declaring the settlements illegal, even though they plainly were and Obama himself had previously acknowledged as much.** Rhodes says the Palestinians were finding “little more than rhetorical support from us.” They barely received even that. Rhodes relates a stunning anecdote in which Obama meets with a group of Palestinian youth. One nervous boy summons the courage to tell the president that his people are being treated as Black Americans were once treated. Obama does not know what to say in reply. Incapable of directly criticizing Israel, he mutters something about how he believes in opportunity for all. But moved by the boy’s testimony, he decides later to act. What does he do? He adds a line to a speech he gives to Israelis, in which he tells them that Palestinian families love their children just as much as Israelis love theirs. Does he condemn the racist Israeli state? He does not. Does he actually do anything for the boy? Of course not.

Rhodes and Obama are frustrated, then, at criticism “for not being sufficiently pro-Israel, which ignored the fact that he wasn’t doing anything tangible for the Palestinians.” They gave Israel billions of dollars in military equipment, they refrained from tangibly aiding the people Israel oppresses, and Obama went before AIPAC in 2012 to say absolutely nothing in support of Palestinian rights and instead declare:

In the United States, our support for Israel is bipartisan, and that is how it should stay…. I have kept my commitments to the state of Israel. At every crucial juncture – at every fork in the road – we have been there for Israel. Every single time. … Despite a tough budget environment, our security assistance has increased every single year… We’re providing Israel with more advanced technology – the types of products and systems that only go to our closest friends and allies. And make no mistake: We will do what it takes to preserve Israel’s qualitative military edge – because Israel must always have the ability to defend itself, by itself, against any threat… No American president has made such a clear statement about our support for Israel at the United Nations.

Obama swore to AIPAC that he will always fund Israeli missiles before the Detroit school system (if this isn’t “declaring allegiance to Israel”—which Ilhan Omar has been called anti-Semitic for talking about—then pray tell, what would be?) As with the Republicans, Rhodes cannot understand how Democrats can give in on everything and yet still be rejected. How do they not understand? They’re being played for suckers. Of course they’ll still call you anti-Semitic even if you would give the lives of your children to protect Israel’s right to an apartheid state. Of coursethey’re not going to stop building settlements just because you have declined to challenge them on anything. That’s how political power works: If the other party senses you’re weak and won’t do anything to pressure them, they’ll walk all over you! Throughout the Obama staffers’ books, you can hear them crying: But it’s not FAIR! We played nice and they took advantage of it! Gentlemen, that’s how this game works!

…The left can learn a few important lessons from examining Pfeiffer, Rhodes, and Litt. First, these are not the sort of people you want in government. You need people who (1) have clear moral vision (2) have thick skins and (3) do not care about the goddamn White House Correspondents’ Dinner. You need people who understand that politics is about gaining power and then using it to make people’s lives better, not about giving uplifting but empty speeches and walking with purpose down Washington hallways. They also need to avoid accepting political reality as “fixed.” The people who defend Obama suggest that his hands were tied—power was arranged in such a way that he could not act. But the question is: How are you going to change that arrangement of power? If it’s true that “X bill will never pass this Congress,” then how are we going to get a different Congress? The Obama administration was reactive. They played the hand they were given, they had a very narrow sense of the boundaries of the “possible.” They did not understand that being uncompromisingly radical is actually more pragmatic.It’s essential to stop fetishizing credentials. Obama wanted to “hire the best qualified people no matter their politics, and send a message of unity.” That led to him hiring actual Republicans. Unless you’re a Republican, don’t do this. “No matter their politics”? No, politics matter. Your politics are the sum of your vision of what ought to be done. If a president wants to get something done, they need a team of people who also want to get that thing done. That should be elementary, but there just wasn’t that much politics to the Obama movement. Everything was about a guy.And I suppose that’s the final lesson here: Cults of personality are bad. Movements need to be about the people, not a person. The West Wing view of politics is that you just need to get the smartest, most competent, most qualified, most virtuous people into government. But that means nothing without a substantive vision for change and an understanding of how you mobilize an authentic popular movement to make it happen.

[eoncafe]

Can I’m have millennial tree cookie wind archer cookie and yogurt cream cookie x male reader who is overprotective over sorbet shark cookie and choco chess and ask him if he can adopt them please sorbet they have being alone in the ocean for years and choco chess are homeless I’m want them to be happy headcanons please

sure thing anon! this is a cute idea!

——

pairing(s): millennial tree, wind archer, and yogurt cream x reader (romantic) sorbet shark and chess choco twins + reader (platonic/familial)

type: fluff!

warnings: none!!

reader type: male (he/him)

notes: i dont know much about the twins :( but i tried!! i hope you like these anyway

——

millennial tree

millennial tree is a very nurturing cookie by nature, taking under his wing anyone who needs it. he did the same for you, too.

which was why he was pleasantly surprised when you arrived to visit him with three youngsters tagging along, a very certain question on your mind

you wouldn’t have trusted this responsibility with anyone else. you saw these young cookies as your own and wanted the best for them

he accepted in a heartbeat, of course. the god’s heart bled for sorbet’s loneliness and he knew the twins would need a guiding figure in their life

whatever they need, he provides. he loves playing games with the twins and making toys for them out of wood and magic

millennial tree does everything in his power to make sure sorbet feels at home with him. his temple is a ways away from the ocean after all

should sorbet shark ever feel homesick or miss the sea, you take them to the beach to visit. MT can never stray too far from his temple but he keeps a watchful eye from afar, guaranteeing your protection under him.

wind archer

the forest god is wary at first. he has little experience in the ways of children and isn’t sure how to act around them

you oblige to show him the ropes, keeping a sharp and intimidating eye on him to make sure he doesn’t hurt them

he finds the twins’ demeanor somewhat unnerving but quickly gets used to it. eventually he discovers his penchant for chess games and looks forward to playing against them.

he isn’t as good at it as you are of course.

he is able to understand sorbet’s bubble speak to an extent, which is an oddity. you ask him how he knows and he replies with a shrug. it’s just one of those things, you know?

if sorbet ever wants to visit the ocean, he is able to tag along with no problem, though he gets antsy if he is away from the forest for too long.

he enjoys watching you and sorbet play in the water together! less so when he gets dragged in by one of you

sorbet’s shark form is a little surprising to him at first, but he easily puts two and two together

silently, he vows to protect you and the kids with his life, watching you carefully even when he isn’t around

yogurt cream

“erm…what is this?”

he isn’t sure what to make of them at all

he isn’t fully on board with the idea of children living with you at the palace at first, but seeing the way you look at them (and knowing you’d surely have his head otherwise) he quickly changes his mind

he enjoys chasing the energetic sorbet through the palace and likes challenging his mind with the clever games the twins play

lilac is also partial to them, though he doesn’t show it through his quiet and collected exterior

he is easily able to take the kids on vacations with his wealth, and has become a frequent visitor to the ocean for sorbet. you accompany them of course

all in all, he’s found himself grow happier with the kids—and you—around

[hexlunas]

AN ‘HONESTY HOUR’ INTERVIEW WITH LUNA OF THE HEX GIRLS !

tucked away in the corner of crestle cove is an unassuming, single storey house, not exactly the sort of house one would expect to find an up and coming musician and her best friend living at. it’s the home of kim bora, better known by the public and fans as luna of the hex girls, crestle cove’s latest punk-rock, eco-goth band that’s been rapidly and loudly taking over the music charts.

when she welcomes me into her home, it’s with a cheerful smile and a warm cup of lemon ginger honey tea, a signature of hers mentioned by her bandmates – a strong lover of nature and natural herbal remedies, this is one that’s been said to cure a sore throat in a couple of hours. we bring our tea into the middle of her living room, decorated with bits and bobs of antiques and appliances incongruously thrown into the mix. it feels like we’re just two friends having a conversation over a nice cup of tea, albeit with a recorder in between. i ask if she’s heard of honesty hour, and she says she has; she promises to be as honest as she can.

let’s start with something easy. if you can have any other occupation, what would it be and why?

LUNA: another occupation? i can’t think of anything! my brothers, i’ve got five of them, y’know... i think we all ended up in different industries. and i guess, after everyone had found their footing and i was still trying to find mine, my second oldest brother brought me over to crestle for school. that was where i met yifei and daehyun – thorn and dusk, y’know, and something about us making music just clicked for me! this is such a disappointing answer, isn’t it? i don’t think i could do anything else, and i love the hex girls, after all. i suppose if i had to choose, i’d say... hmm, maybe a gardener. it’s been my hobby since high school, and i’d say i’ve got a green thumb!

i can see that, your house is blooming! if your house was burning down and you could only save one thing, what would it be?

oh my, that’s a big change from the first question! if this place was burning down... i’d have to save my housemate, if he was inside, of course. ah, is that a cop out as well? let’s see... my phone, which is a terribly millennial thing to say, but it really does have three quarters of my life stored on it. our music, my journals, photos of friends and family. everything can be bought again, but it’d be awful to lose all those important memories when i’ve got them stored on my phone. though i’d forgo all that if my housemate was inside too, definitely.

you must be close with your housemate. what quality do you most value in a friend?

loyalty. or honesty, i think? this sounds a little sad, but sometimes it does feel like people leave easily, so it means a lot to me when someone stays in touch, or makes an effort, because i definitely try to do the same! and i suppose honesty is part of that, too, i’d be hurt to be kept in the dark by a friend, and i appreciate when people be straightforward with me. i think they come together, or, well, we can’t have loyalty without honesty or vice versa in a friendship.

i see. what is your honest opinion of everyone else?

everyone else? yifei is definitely the leader amongst the three of us, she’s got the most drive and daring when it comes to her music, and what she wants! i admire that about her, the fact that she’s totally got what she wants down and she’ll stop at nothing for it. there’s been a couple of rumours between her and me, but i can promise that’s not true! we started the hex girls because we were all friends, and we definitely still are.

as for daehyun, well. he’s the youngest of us but he definitely doesn’t behave like it, can i say that? he’s been writing a lot of music for us, and not to be biased but i think it’s really good, so look out for that! dae’s just, he’s really reliable and always affectionate, and it’s really nice to be able to say we’re friends, not just bandmates.

and, if ‘everyone else’ includes the guy who escaped the house before you got here, noah’s my best friend! we knew each other when we were still kids in south korea, and i guess it was fate that brought us both to crestle. so we’ve been friends for a really long time, and we’ve shared the ups and downs of life together too! i trust him a lot, and i hope he does too.

what’s an essential childhood experience that you missed out on?

a full family vacation. my brothers are all older than me, the first and second by a lot, so when it got to me and my school holidays, they were usually working by then! i don’t think we’ve ever managed to all go on a vacation together. i used to just tag along to the different places they went to, which coincidentally is how i ended up in crestle. no one’s to blame for that, since my brothers and my parents were always busy, but i guess it would have been nice to be able to have a vacation, with all eight of us.

what advice would you tell your younger self?

breathe. calm down. we’re still growing, and learning, and it’s okay. i was the youngest, with five pairs of huge shoes to fill. so i really wanted to catch up to my brothers, be the best and, you know, perfect, like they are. it’s only been recently that i’ve learnt to take a breather and not hold myself to standards that are too high.

that’s definitely good advice. what is some advice you think everyone should hear?

be a little more environmentally conscious! i don’t think i have advice that everyone would need, but this is definitely something you can do to make yourself feel a little better, like using a reusable bag or sustainable cutlery, you know? i think it feels good to be able to do something about climate change, even if it’s small. if you feel down, at least you’ll know you’ll have made a small impact for the earth, and isn’t that comforting?

that’s true! what’s something else you do to bring your spirits up – what is your biggest guilty pleasure?

i love window shopping, and actual shopping, oops, in antique shops! there’s just something about learning all the history behind each item that’s nice, and i like finding something unique for the house, as you can tell.

what do you think people take way too seriously?

can i say echo? i’m going to say echo, i know people don’t really take tabloids seriously, but the drama it’s been causing is just silly. we’re not all out to get each other, i promise. let’s just stop reading those tabloids!

what is one thing you want to tell someone but don’t have the courage to say?

ah, there’s a lot, to many people... right now, though, i think i’d like to tell someone how i feel about them. it’s been a long time, and i – i guess it’d be nice to be honest, like i am right now, but i don’t want anything to change between us either, which is why i haven’t said anything.

i'll be rooting for you! what are your thoughts on love?

i think love is really important to me. platonic, familial, romantic, all of them. my love life hasn’t been too exciting, but i have good friends and family with me, and i really, well, love them! i try to give as much love as i’ve received, and i hope everyone around me can feel it too.

and i guess it’s inevitable that love is important to me, when that’s a staple in the music industry. i love love, i’ll admit, but finding it for myself... i’m working on it!

would you rather live without love or adventure?

without adventure, easy. i don’t think i could live without love, that’d be too isolating. i can forgo adventure if i have my friends and family around, they’re all the excitement i need.

what is your greatest fear?

it’s cliche, but failing the people i love. i think it’s true to most people, not wanting to hurt or disappoint our loved ones, and i definitely don’t want to either. i guess it’s what you get when you put a fear of failure and a fear of abandonment together, haha! 

what do you feel is the defining moment of your life?

coming to crestle cove! it’s where the biggest moments have happened in my life, where i found steadier footing for myself, met yifei and daehyun and formed the hex girls, lived almost half of my life in! none of this would have happened if i hadn’t decided to come to crestle for high school, and now i can’t imagine how my life would be if i wasn’t here. crestle really brought me to the best people and all of those important moments i’ve had, and it starts from when i first arrived.

last one. what is one quote you live by?

leave me but a little to myself – it’s a line from othello that stuck with me from high school literature. i know it isn’t the right meaning, but it reminds me that relationships are about reaching across to each other and to where the other person is, and bringing a bit of you over to them. it’s something i’ve learnt to do, in my own relationships, instead of trying to force two people into a common place, and to be generous with what i can give of myself to others. and it also reminds me to take a little break, and have some time to myself, too.

thank you so much for listening to me ramble, and share my honest thoughts!

[andistic]

❝All I see is red. What do you see?❞ Full Name: Annie Renée Stewart Pronunciation: An ∙ nee, Ra ∙ nay, Stu ∙ art Meaning of Name: ❧ Annie is a diminutive of Anna. Anna is most likely a variant of a Hebrew name Hannah, meaning "gracious" or "favored", because in the Bible she was a sincere and merciful woman. Ultimately the name lost its initial 'h'. ❧ Renée (often spelled without the accent in non-French speaking countries) is a French feminine given name. Renée is the French form of the late Roman name Renatus and the meaning is reborn or born again. ❧ Stewart is relating to the royal family ruling Scotland 1371–1714 and Britain 1603–49 and 1660–1714. Nicknames: The Broken Crown Gender: Female Pronouns: She / Her Age: 124 years old Mental Age: 28 years old Birthday: March 28th Zodiac: Aries Race/Species: Nephlim Nationality ❧ Mother’s side: Angel ❧ Father’s side: Alp  (A mythological nightmare demon) ❧ Birthplace: Remote barn in upstate New York. Accent: American ❝Queen is nothing but a title. A title that I cannot claim. Nor do I want to.❞ Skin Tone: Pale Hair Color: Raven Hair Style: Straight and long, reaching far down to her hips. When it gets wet it curls up just slightly. Sometimes she will pin it up into a messy bun or ponytail. Eye Color: Naturally crimson and she has cat-like pupils. Other details about her eyes: Her dark magic can change them to a bright blue just to blend in with humanity. Under stress, fear, or change, they'll flicker away back to the natural dark red. Body Shape: Square Clothing: She'll mostly wear anything black and quick to throw on. Easy to blend into the night and flexible for when she's fighting. Height: 6'2" Weight: 135lbs Tattoos: A faint one on her back depicting butterfly wings. The color is a bright cyan. She has another that's a vine decoration from her left hip all the way up to the base of her jaw. Piercings: A simple black ball on her tongue. Birthmarks: It's kind of covered up by the vine tattoo, one on her left hip that looks like a skull. Scars and burns: Long inflamed marks on her back, stomach, and chest. She has multiple burn marks everywhere on her body from closing a wound with Dawn. ❝If you hate my cold nature stop stepping near the freezer.❞ Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Preferred Gender: She doesn't have one. Romantic Status: Single First Kiss? ❧ Swept away by one of her mentors. Their relationship was simply platonic, she tried to use him to escape. He, in returned, tried to use her for power. First Date? ❧ She will always claim she never really had one. Unless slaughtering hordes of brainwashed millennial demons count as romantic in the slightest. ❝And why would I care about your petty feelings?❞ Overall Personality: She's very cold and blunt. Always stating the obvious. She has a bit of a humorous wit to her, able to dance around someone's mental state. How they view themselves? ❧ A monster. A killer of the night, ready to snap her jaws on hunger. How others view them? ❧ She doesn't know many, only family. Rumors leavened with conjecture, she is seen as a disgrace. The words were mostly uttered by her grandfathers, tainting her image. Postive Traits: Intelligent Brave Integrity Responsible Reliable Negative Traits: Cold-Shouldered Hot-Tempered Loner Aggressive Grim Likes: Clear night skies Her flower garden Silence Sitting on her roof Exerting power Dislikes: Someone using her shadows against her Human food Enthusiastic people Changes Demons Temper: She's very quick to set off. Anyone she meets is always on thin ice. Watch where you step. Dreams: Freedom To be human To be accepted Fears: The death of humanity Accidentally killing a human Falling asleep ❝You're merely a pawn in a small game.❞ Weapons: Dawn and Dusk, they're two spectral blades bound by a soul. She can call upon them, but cannot banish them unless they are physically broken. Once broken, Dawn cannot be resummoned until the full moon, and Dusk the new moon. She has to be careful when and where she does this, Dawn can cause fires. Powers: She can control both shadow and light. The shadows are like multiple hands or persons with a deadly grip. Also with the shadows, she can make your greatest fear come to life, long enough for her to flee or attack. With light, she has multiple arrows at her fingertips and a temporary blinding power for fleeing or attacking. However, she doesn't use her light powers too often and relies on darkness. Her darkness isn't well trained and she often causes a nightmare to herself. Intelligence: 10/10 Strength: 6/10 Emotional Strength 1/10 Speed: 9/10 Agility: 10/10 Stamina: 10/10 Defense: 0/10 Wisdom: 8/10 Humor: 9/10 Common Sense: 9/10 Loyalty: 7/10 Teamwork: 0/10 Confidence: 0/10 Patience: 4/10 Anger: 10/10 Control: 3/10 Kindness: 2/10 Trust: 1/10 Physical Health: 4/10 Emotional Health: 0/10 ❝It's not negativity, sweetheart. It's called life.❞ Overall health: Fit as a fox. Nothing fully wrong except her mentality and her blood. Mental Health: She's broken. She views herself as disgusting. A monster to be reckoned with. Something to be killed and slaughtered. She also periodically hears the screams of her victims. Physical Health: Her body is frail and tiny, but due to her small frame it makes her fast and nimble. Illnesses? In all technicality, her blood is corrupted. Being of a split breed, her body doesn't know which to choose. The plasma is loose, almost like water. Yet it is dark like thick black paint. It's easy to spread the tainted drops across the grass to turn the blades black. She has to be very careful if she gets cut. Mental Disorders? PTSD. If she sees a whip or small knives, she'll either break down into a panic or cause a fight. Smokes? Yes, cigarettes. Drugs? No ❝I have seen the ups and downs of this plane. It doesn't deserve to be wiped out.❞ 〈〈 HISTORY 〉〉 Childhood Life: Spending most of it in a cell, Annie can vaguely remember the age before she was swept away. She can remember the day she had met her blades. Well, at least the spirits that attached themselves to the dark and light. Dawn and Dusk fell from her lips, naming the dead. The dead that would be forever lost if she hadn't bound them to two weapons. Before she had reached four years old the demons took her. Locked her up because she was a combination not only feared, but also forbidden. To top this off her parents had royalty in their genes. After her birth their not allowed to claim their crowns. She cannot touch either as well. She was kept in a dark cell for many years. In silence, distant flames of fires beyond to be her friend. Cold bars were her enemy. A shackle to her ankle was a parent. Teenage Life: Still in the cold lifeless cell, she stayed. As she grew older, she got cocky. Arrogant and spiteful. Lashing out anyone who came to mock her. Fed up with the noise, her grandfather issued punishment to the now sixteen-year-old. Day in and day out, she was slashed with whips upon her back. Many times it brought tears to her eyes, cried to her silent voice. The skin on her back painted in the black ooze. Many times she thought she had died, only to realize to demons controlled that as well. Adult Life: Broken and quiet. That's all that remained in the cold cave with bars. A few would come, snicker at her humiliating place. She'd glare, the eyes filled with hunger and anger. They would scurry off whenever she stirred the shadows. She had grown powerful in dark captivity. Many forget that her genes carry ones of an Alp. Able to weave in and out of nightmares, of night. Finally, a March wind rolled over the surface of her imprisonment. Her bones could feel it as she turned twenty-five. It had been many years since someone came to the bars. To snicker, to laugh. To call her disgusting, a waste of a crown. This one did not, however. A man stood, just beyond the bars, a pitiful look upon his face. Empathy? Sadness? A combination of the two? She couldn't tell. "What have they done to you?" He called out as if he knew her, crimson eyes flickering in low light. The bars pried open, shadows she did not weave. The inky hands snapped the metal bars as if they were twigs, nothing more. Stepping into the cave, he gently removed the chain. It was rusted and surprised she hadn't realized she probably could break that off on her own. The realization hit once more. She fled, faster than she ever could. Instincts kicking in, one to feed. One to slaughter. This is when she made her first regretful kill. Standing in a pool of blood, she cried. Demons can forget their morals so easily, yet angels carry that weight with a heavy chain. After the rampage, she broke down. Killing easily over one thousand humans. Swallowing every soul greedily to fulfill her hunger. Warmth touched her shoulder, darkness filled her vision. The same two she had met years before, regaining their helpful master. Dawn and Dusk remained with her this whole time. Yet stuck on the surface, spinning in circles. Unable to save their savior. They fled into the night, searching for a new home. A new calling. They settled with a plot of unclaimed land, Dusk and Annie building a cabin in the middle of the woods. Far away from society and demons. Happy Moments: She can't recall much, the faint moments of her sisters. Either a tea party with Linda, who would then accidentally freeze the plastic cups or a dance with Lina. A prank or two with Lindy, only to get into trouble soon after. She holds these shattered and faded memories as close as she can. Sad Moments: Her heart drags through the mud each time she remembers the faces she killed. At times she will cry at night because of this. The faint faces of her siblings and parents also haunt her; she desperately tries to remember. ❝Just because you're here doesn't mean I needed you.❞ Mother Name: Cassandra Stewart Status: Dead. History: In older days her name was Cassandra - Dawn would be her future name - heir to the thrones of gold. She had four girls, all witches. It is one of the laws within the gates that all angels bare one witch in their life. Finding one human to serve as mother or father and fleeing with said child. Cassandra was special, she gave the gift of the seasons to her children. Even as the years went on, every time there is a hot day or a cold winter, Annie knows who made it. Cassandra was never happy though. Living under the unending course of laws and regulations. She ventured to the mortal land one day, meeting a man with horns. At first, she didn't know what to do, beginning to arm herself with a twig. A demon stood before her, handsome no less. Tall with black hair, piercing red eyes. His horns were curled, their tips barely touching his long, elf-like ears. He gave her a smile, opening his arms to the golden beauty. He had no weapon to brandish or show off. Instead, he just wanted to admire her, gaze at the lake eyes and blonde locks. Talking can lead to common ground. They both felt trapped with their crowns, unable to burn them away. Years would go by, feelings would pump strong. Until one day a child, ebony hair, eyes bouncing between red and blue. Happy, always happy. If that child could've only stayed that way. Cassandra was called in by her own father, ridiculed. He told her she didn't know what love meant. That loving a demon was unnatural. Cries of an unwanted child made her father snap. He broke off her wings, leaving her bones shattered and feathers a bloody mess. Tossing them aside, she was squished under his boot. A king can be cruel, even the ones with a heart of gold. "Don't," her final words began to crawl out of her throat. Her face turned to him, tear-stained and coated in her own blood. "Don't hurt her." He was a fool to even think she'd beg for her own life. No, instead Cassandra groveled for the halfbreed. If she wanted to be lower than scum, so be it. He would happily oblige. The angel plummeted to earth, surrounded by sandy deserts. Crimson mixed in with creamy tans, Cassandra wasn't able to get up. She bled out, buried by the forgotten wastelands. Father Name: Dani Acor Status: Dead. History: Demons are slightly weaker, at least those who don't have strong blood behind them. Millions upon millions of types conversed under the rock. There was a prince named Dani; Dusk would be his name in later years. After the news of his missing wife, only recently marrying her, he fled to the underworld with his newborn. Demons turned heads, staring at their fallen prince. He glared back in fear. He did the thing any father would protect his little girl. Although still children themselves, Dani found the coven of four witches. It wasn't hard, the house still under his fallen wife's name. Dani spoke with the eldest of the four, holding her face in his hands. That was his only option, to trust the half-sisters to raise the nephlim. "Lindy," Dani spoke to the confused fifteen-year-old. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask how he knew her name. "Your mother, she was special," Dani didn't let the girl speak, "far beyond special. Remember that, okay? I need you to take care of your youngest sister." He was holding back his own heartbreaking cries. Lindy looked back at Lindsey in confusion, she was the youngest that they only knew. Her mouth opened again, wishing to speak. Dani squashed her curious flame. "Just trust-" a loud bang came at the door. Time ran out. "Dani boy!" A snake-like creature broke the door into wooden fragments. Its face twisted with a horrific fanged grin. The blood born alp stood protectively in front of the children, they cowered in the corner in return. Dani would go down fighting, willing to spill his blood for his only child. The fight lasted for minutes, shadows and demons arguing about right and wrong. The prince was pinned down by the snake-like creature, unable to move or fight. Dani made his last decision, he sacrificed himself to damnation. The demons dragged their prince in chains, happy with a catch. He was brought beneath the earth for eternity, his throne no longer in view. He didn't care for the cheap seat, his heart ached for his lost love. Loneliness is a silent killer, his few months of confinement and heartbreak left him dead. Dani literally died of a broken heart. Siblings Names: Linda Stewart, Lindsey Stewart, Lina Stewart, and Lindy Stewart. Status: All alive. Friends Names: Dawn and Dusk (Spirits behind her blades.) History: Dani and Cassandra were doom driven lovers, a power beyond the kings brought them back. Angels and demons never die off, simply reborn into a new body with their memories erased. These two prolonged such a thing, they didn't want to forget. However, such a thing is written for them. Forgetting little by little of each other and their child. That is until Cassandra set foot on familiar land, a house with overgrown greenery. A coven beyond doors and a child with a crown of golden horns. She wasn't alone, a presence stood beside her. The golden dead turned, meeting purple in her eyes. Flashes of a man of horror, a sweeter heart in his chest, danced before her very eyes. A sly grin spread across his faded face, arms open for the golden beauty. "Dani?" Cassandra was in tears, practically choking on her own words. It was him, the one she never wanted to forget. Before she could run into her lover's arms, she was stopped by a young girl. The girl's hair was as ebony as the hours before midnight. "Why are you crying?" The child was no more than three, her big red eyes making her look innocent. Cassandra knelt down to her own daughter, wanting desperately to touch her face. "Nothing An-, I mean," Cassandra cleared her throat. Annie would never remember her mother's face, nor know why this strange woman knew her name. "Nothing, child." Cassandra gave the little nephlim a smile. She attempted to place her hand upon the girl's head, but her heart broke. She couldn't touch her own daughter, her fingers slipping through matter. Dani stood there, stiff. He couldn't look at his own daughter, the familiar ache echoed in his soul. Agitation was soon replaced in the sad pit, his hand roaming over his face. He could barely watch this, perhaps hoping he would forget. However, it melted when his daughter popped up with a question. "Want to play?" Annie scurried for a ball in the play yard. She held up the rubber toy with the brightest smile on her face. The two dead shared a few glances, they figured why not? Wanting to share the last few moments with their creation of profound love. "What are your names?" Annie tossed the ball, but it went through Dani. There was a flaw in their plan. The nephlim wasn't going to be discouraged, she tossed the ball away and offered tag. A single rule was made; the hand of the person who was it had to go clear through the other. Her parents agreed, but Annie brought the question up again. What were their names? The dead paused, thinking on how to carefully answer. For some reason, they didn't want to state their names. They figured if Annie ran to her sisters, Lindy would definitely know something was up. No, Cassandra wasn't going to let Lindy waste her days away trying to bring back the dead. She knew the fire witch would try. "How about Dawn and Dusk?" Annie said, hoping that the two liked the names. Her parents shared a smile, that was their loophole to avoid the truth. The three laughed, a family again; at least for the few moments, they had left. That was until Dusk fell, his hand pressed against his transparent forehead. His memories were fading, along with him. Dawn quickly ran to him, her own glow brighter than his. "No, no! Dusk! No! Don't leave now! Please!" Tears filled Dawn's eyes, she knew he would fade from existence. Annie stood quietly behind her parents, a tepid expression across her face. No one will ever know what pulled her to do what she did. "I can save him." Determination was clear in Annie's heart. The child was always strange, sensing something that was never said or there. She ran into the house, dragging a book back out with her. It was bigger than her, but she did it without complaint or question. She flipped the book open acting like she knew what she was doing. Except she knew what she was clearly doing. "Annie, this isn't time for ga-!" Dawn felt a shock throughout her body, something inside of her grabbed ahold of her invisible heart. Dusk was in the same pain, neither of them was able to speak. When the pain wiped itself away, Dawn and Dusk panted to regain their breath. Whatever it was, it hurt. Badly. In the very end though, both of them felt different. They felt connected to the earth, the heavens, and the underworld again. Dawn reached out to Annie, but something appeared after she did. A bright shimmering blade stood before her gaze, lighted by flames of holy. Floating above the ground and leaving a patch of burnt dirt. Dusk grunted behind Dawn, she whipped her head to see if he was okay. He was no longer becoming a faded memory, but he held his chest in pain. Dawn took his head into her hands, she felt him. He existed in the world and so did she. Dusk let out a painful scream, the core of his chest glowing an intense purple. Just like Dawn, Dusk summoned a blade, jagged and corrupted. The weapon had thorns to rip flesh open, twists and turns to pull out guts. It was large and heavy, slamming into the earth. Becoming lodged into its own hole in the ground. Enemy: Name: Her grandfather, Coro (Father's side), the king of mayhem. (Underworld.) ❝Get the hell away from me!❞ Pessimistic or Optimistic? Pessimistic. Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert. Bookworm or Party Animal? Bookworm. Dare Devil or Cautious? Dare Devil. Logical or Emotional? Logical. Working or Relaxing? Working. Think before Speaking or Speak before Thinking? Speak before thinking. ❝And when plants die, what do we grow after?❞