#but if we wind up in the same art class in a month then WHAT will i do with myself huh ?? like do you want me to kms be honest lmfaooo

[stillshewanders]

since you're all dying to know, the boy and i stopped seeing each other almost a month ago now 😔✊🏽 i'm trying to decide how much it's possible to cut him out of my mind and heart and still be his friend so uhhhh drop ur suggestions and experiences i guess

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 6. year one note: september 2nd, the summons

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x regulus black warnings for this chapter—none word count—2.1k

whatever did happen at slughorn’s honorary tea party? well…

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

you would have preferred to change into something a bit more fitting for a tea party, but the invitation came too sudden. it was just you and regulus, wrung out from the day’s activities – the new classes and itineraries and so many faces to remember and attach names to – en route to the library (by regulus’ request, he had been quite adamant at starting charms homework early) when you were collected and brought the same winding steps down to the dungeons.

you’d think the air be warm and smelling of mould and torch-light smoke, but no. it’s surprisingly dry, if not a bit heavy, bending under the weight of the castle and the black lake. you follow. the professor says his hellos to passing slytherin students. regulus, a step behind you, remains equally as silent.

the office you are cordially ushered in is small for a professor of such distinguished rank. there’s a low ceiling and a homey atmosphere, a plush couch in deep, smoky velvet with gilded edges, a mahogany table, an impressive amount of trinkets and pictures in the cabinet, a few portraits and landscapes and old tomes with latin titles: the elixir compendium: ancient brews and potent potions, alchemy through the ages: secrets of the master potioneers, witchcraft and wizardry: a guide to mystical mixtures.

tea’s already steaming and waiting. beside the cups, a delicious display of biscuits and caramels in flowery china.

“there we are,” professor slughorn says, closing the door. regulus and you take a seat, backs straight and hands folded neatly on your laps. one, however, seems much less at ease, “there we are. what a joy, i must say, to have so many bright students this year.”

the professor takes a seat on an armchair to face you both. his eyes jump between you and regulus. when he takes his tea, you do, too.

“i know it must be too soon to tell, but how are you finding hogwarts?” he settles on regulus first.

there’s a slight pause and an answer given to the tea, “very big, sir.”

“ah,” slughorn intones, “indeed, a marvel of creation. can be quite difficult to navigate. sometimes i stumble the wrong way and discover a room unseen, even after all these years. always up to something, this castle. as if alive itself,” his gaze drifts to you, “and you, miss lestrange? what are the impressions?”

medieval. the truth has a bitter tinge.

what comes out is more polite, “sheer wonder, sir. a bit of homesickness as well, but surely passes away the first few months, does it not?"

“of course, of course! as is to be expected anywhere, but i'm absolutely certain you’ll grow to love it very much over your stay,” there is a gleam of pride, a private whisper of, "very bright, indeed, you two. you'll both excel in all your studies." before he is reaching for a biscuit with the poise of a natural socialite.

regulus frowns but accepts the complement and bites into the sugar glaze of his own treat.

"i recall, you know, your father, mister black. orion was quite a rising name in the duelling club back in the day," a wave of the biscuit, and the memories, "no one, till this day, i bet, could beat him. not without paying a visit to the hospital wing."

regulus looks slightly up from under his lashes. professor slughorn perseveres with an affable smile.

a raised finger, "excelled in defence against the dark arts. wonderful wandwork, though i was quite, if you pardon my candour, miffed that he didn't take to potions as much. top of his class, but his passions laid elsewhere. your mother, though, walburga, oh, a delight to the heart," slughorn, overcome with remembrance, rubs a thumb over the stitching on his robe, "simply splendid. always a joy to have in class – a talented witch and diligent student. well-versed in potion making and never shied away from a difficult task."

"thank you, sir," is offered stiffly and sincerely, if somewhat unwillingly.

"the only one ever to come close to beat her title as top of class was your own mother, miss lestrange," he doesn't notice the glance that passes between you and your cousin, "you are very much like her. laurelle. a spitting image, in fact," there's a strange wistfulness in his eye as he regards you, a tone just a tad softer, "an exceptional young woman."

it could have been anyone – the sentiment could apply to a countless number of things, but...

no one speaks much of your mother, and she doesn't speak at all. hearing anything on a figure whom had faded into an invisible character is strangely foreign. like a freshly cut bruise.

"thank you, sir," you say, not sure how to respond to such a tender sentiment, "everyone says we're much alike."

"then no doubt you possess her talent for runes and arithmacy. her and walburga, always a competition between them, i recall. a bit of friendly rivalry in class. but walburga, i fear, didn't possess laurelle's talent for astronomy or the gift for divination."

there's a slight pause at the mention of the last word, where everything seems to halt. the world itself, under your feet, eases motion. the sugar cube held between your tweezers plops into your cup with a splash a bit too loud.

"and your father," slughron glosses over it quickly but gracefully, "a natural at transfiguration. one of the toughest subjects at hogwarts, if i do say so myself, besides potions, that is," you feel regulus' gaze burn the side of your face, "rodolphus, too, enjoyed transfiguration very much. yes, a very gifted boy."

rabastan mustn’t be talented at much since he isn't mentioned. you expected it, though it feels like a slight injustice.

"here," slughorn stands and retrieves a picture in a pretty gold frame before presenting it to you and regulus, "our winter social of 1946."

in the picture is slughorn himself and his illustrious slug club. there's a 17 year old orion black, handsome, carefree, a slight mischievous twinkle in his eye, not a line of stress etched in his features. you and regulus spot your mothers instantly. walburga softer in the face, the harsh lines not yet present. a modest smile, one regulus mimics unconsciously faced with her likeness. and there's laurelle, your mother, in the front beside slughorn, gazing past the camera to the great beyond.

a beauty. startling in sight, like a painting slightly crooked.

there's father, too, seeming very jovial beside his prewett cousins.

"timon and orion," slughorn continues, pilfering another picture from the cabinet. he gives it to regulus, as you hold the other, "were on the slytherin quidditch team. very good ones, too. orion was seeker and timon beater, a fine fit for their temperaments. are you interested in quidditch, dear boy?"

regulus, finally, comes alive. there's a fervour now, the topic far more exciting than that of house points and exams.

"yes, sir. my brother didn’t allow me to go out and train with him, though. said i'm too young," he doesn't complain, simply recounts with disappointment.

slughorn laughs, "yes, well, sirius cannot stop you now, can he? if you're interested, do talk to young aster fauns. he's the captain of our team. i'm certain he'll be delighted to let you practice before trying out for the team next year. hogwarts is, after all, a great place for adventures, and nothing is more thrilling than an afternoon out in the skies," slughorn's finger wiggle, "best believe it was me, and dear orestes carrow, who first hang-glided off the west tower."

regulus grins then. really grins, a lovely sight. a shadow of orion's, in the picture held before.

slughorn tacks on, "with some friends, naturally. of course, now, of course. safe to say that no one is attempting hang-gliding these days. and you shan't either," he wags a finger, though good-naturedly, "both of you, know i have eyes and ears everywhere. i shall be the first to hear of it."

you return to inspecting the treasure in your hands. the eight members of the slug club stand in formalwear, perfectly fitted. the air is lighter, smiles a little more wide. even for an animated picture, they stay respectably still besides the odd laugh and wandering, playful eyes.

laurelle, particularly, doesn't move, or blink, or breathe. there's a half smile painted on her lips, an almost faint sadness around the edges of her eyes.

she must've been ill by then. so young, a seventh year. a brilliant, albeit tragic star, the scintillating crown of the lestranges. a jewel so precious father chose a foreign last name.

"any classes you are excited for in particular?" slughorn inquires.

regulus starts but keeps a sensible eye, "all of them, sir."

a chortle. he sounds amused, not doubtful, at the wide-eyed, unhesitating declaration.

"and you, miss lestrange?"

you lift your head from the picture. you wonder if you shall grow into her features like rabastan grew into father's, "runes, sir."

"a marvellous subject. tremendously difficult, but i do not doubt your potency for it, dear girl. you'll excel. are you familiar at all?"

regulus turns at attention. the portraits, too, seem intrigued and tilt an ear. you tell the truth, "i know the alphabet. the runic charts in the library at home, though, are very complicated."

"your mother's handiwork, most probably," his lips crinkle upward, eyes scrunched kindly, "many would disagree, but a runic chart is often very subjective. like any other language, the flow and transition depends greatly on the speaker. laurelle was, is still, no doubt, an exceptional translator. have you attempted to read them?"

you glance at regulus, as if unsure. his expression is inscrutable.

"a little, sir," you hesitate again before continuing, "but i can't translate everything. i'd be much more comfortable using a rune dictionary."

"like the best of them, you've inherited your mother's talent."

something remains unsaid, but you feel it in the air around you. bending under the weight.

"well, i shan't keep you longer," slughorn says, setting down his tea, "the hour grows late and you have classes in the morning."

you all stand. regulus collects the photos and returns them to their owner. the others remain in the picture frames on the cabinets. there are too many to take in and you're curious, perhaps a touch greedy, to drink the sight of laurelle lestrange while offered the leisure.

"but, before you go," slughorn calls when you're at the door, "may i have a word, dear girl? only a moment."

you look to regulus, who does, too, and raises a brow. slughorn nods reassuringly, his hand reaching forward, ready to push the knob and send him off.

"i'll wait in the corridor," regulus tells you before the closing door obscures him.

the room is silent. slughorn's small eyes dart to the ground before back to you. there's a tentative smile, "a good friend, isn't he? regulus."

"yes, sir," you reply dutifully.

"no doubt, you shall grow to learn what a gift that is in hogwarts. very true friends, those loyal in their heart, are scarce. it's good to have such a person by your side."

"of course, sir."

the atmosphere feels thick again.

"someone you can trust," he emphasizes, but it feels as though what he's saying is going over your head, "that can be dependable," a gentle, careful tone is in his voice, like a question or a plea, "to confide in."

there's a prolonged silence. a shifting in your boots, the pull of the robe over your knees, "i'm sorry, sir. what do you mean?"

his expression falls, like he doesn't wish to elaborate, to explain the unspoken, but, no doubt, you don't fully understand, "not so important, really. a silly worry. an old man's fretting. this is a very difficult thing, being away from home. could result in a deal of… unexpected ways. i recall i could barely sleep the first week. terribly cold up here in winter, and all the unfamiliar voices."

he sounds apologetic. you say politely, "that will certainly ease itself soon, i'm certain. home is not so far, after all, sir."

he smiles, a comforting thing, "indeed. quite true. a splendid perspective, as i expect of you. only, if there was something to ever come up, know that you can confide in me, as you can in young regulus. my ears and heart are always open," it's offered in earnest. you nod, if not a touch stiff, before bowing your head.

when you enter the corridor, you meet regulus with an unchanged face. he's studying the decorations and trinkets lined the walls. portraits, old medals, and ribbons hung.

"what'd he want?" he inquires once you're on your way back to the common room. a glance over the shoulder, though professor slughorn's office is closed and far off already, "nothing, really."

[motherofqups]

Something I think about more than I probably should: People don’t think about you as often as you think about them. Or in the valence you think about them. You have no control over how people see you no matter how you show up in their lives, for better or for worse.

I was an orchestra, theatre, and marching band kid all through high school. I saw my band director 3 times a day for multiple hours for 4 years of my life. I still have anxiety nightmares about this guy. I forget my flute, or I can’t put my flute together, or my fingers move like molasses through the runs. No matter how much I practiced as a teenager, it was never good enough for him - he never gave me the solos, the parts, the chairs. He once told me in front of the whole wind ensemble that I was a disappointment. He once insinuated that I was getting fat at the height of my eating disorder.

I saw him at a friend’s wedding a year ago, and he didn’t remember me. At all. Not my name, what year I graduated, what musicals I was in or what instrument I played. He confused me with my brother. It was an extremely disorienting experience.

Meanwhile, I went to my partner’s 10 year homecoming a year or so ago and ran into two of my old professors and a retired administrator for the art department. The first, I had one class with my entire college career. I saw him twice a week for two-ish hours for 3 months nearly a decade ago. He remembered me, and my partner (who showed up for one of my poetry readings the prof attended). He told me he thought about one of my art projects for his class on a regular basis. He remembered one of the papers I wrote *for one of his colleague’s classes* that he happened to read. He asked me if I was still writing, if I had published. He said he was glad he randomly ran into me, encouraged me to keep writing.

The second professor was from my freshman experience class, a much older Science type, quiet, birdwatcher kind of guy. He barely remembered my class but he remembered my performance in the spring musical. I had a vocal solo. He said it was his favorite part of the show. He teared up a little when I remembered the name of his dog, who had long passed at this point. I showed him a picture of gray lady, who has that dog’s same name.

The admin retired midway through my college career, and we ended up on a group hike together through the college nature center. I wasn’t shocked she remembered me (we were a small department) but she remembered so many little details. The outfits I used to wear. How I wore my hair, my favorite doc martens. She remembered the piece I won an award for my sophomore year, but she secretly preferred the other piece I submitted that wasn’t selected. She liked my loud laugh - she could hear it in her office when I was working in the studio.

I think there is value in trying to show up and be your best for the people around you, but it also strikes me that at a time when I wasn’t thinking about how people saw me - I was regularly showing up late to classes, swearing in front of my professors, generally just a fuxjing emotional wreck dealing with depression and ed and a complicated ldr - people remembered me so positively, not just for my achievements, but my personality. And when I was breaking my back to win someone’s approval, I was miserably anxious and they didn’t even remember my name in the end. I don’t know what to do with that information but goddamn does it floor me to know there are people out there who I don’t have to impress, who seem to love me no matter how I show up in life, who intrinsically see what I bring to the table without having to prove anything to them.

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group B Round 4: Tonari no Seki-kun: The Master of Killing Time vs Run with the Wind

#B7: Tonari no Seki-kun: The Master of Killing Time

Kid epicly procrastinates during class

#B5: Run with the Wind (Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru)

Amateur college track team aims for big race

Details and poll under the cut!

#B7: Tonari no Seki-kun: The Master of Killing Time

Summary:

All Rumi Yokoi wants to do is focus during school, but she is constantly distracted by Toshinari Seki, her neighboring classmate. Paying attention during class is the least of Seki's worries, as he obsesses over intricate setups created using an assortment of items, from an elaborate domino course on his desk to a treacherous war played out with shogi pieces. Yokoi desperately attempts to focus in class, only to be repeatedly sucked into his intriguing eccentricities; however, they always seem to end up with her getting in trouble with their teacher. Fortunately, lessons will never be dull with Seki's antics around!

Propaganda 1:

Seki-kun is the sort of anime that stays underrated because it seems overly simple, but it really shines in its simplicity. The episodes are short tales of Seki’s epic procrastination and they’re absurdly amusing. Both the opening and ending are super funny and really well-thought-out.

It’s the anime equivalent of a hard candy. You can have an episode at the end of the day or between tasks, and it entertains you well without asking for much.

Propaganda 2:

It is a really short anime with very short episodes but is still very entertaining, and we never hear the character whose name is in the title speak but we still get a really good feel of his personality. It’s just really funny and a lot of fun to watch.

Trigger Warnings: None

#B5: Run with the Wind (Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru)

Summary:

Former ace runner of Sendai Josei High School, Kakeru Kurahara is chased away from a convenience store for shoplifting. Shaking off his pursuer, he runs into Haiji Kiyose, another student from his university. Haiji is impressed by Kakeru's agility and persuades him to live in Chikusei-sou, the run-down apartment where Haiji resides along with eight other students. Having lost his entire apartment deposit at a mahjong parlor, Kakeru accepts the offer reluctantly.

However, Haiji reveals a secret during Kakeru's welcoming party: the apartment is actually the dormitory of the Kansei University Track Club. He unveils his ultimate goal of participating in the Hakone Ekiden—one of the most prominent university marathon relay races in Japan. Unfortunately, all the residents apart from Haiji and Kakeru are complete running novices. Worse still, none of the inhabitants are even remotely interested in being involved with Haiji's ridiculous plan! With only months before the deadline, will the fourth-year student be able to convince them otherwise and realize his elusive dream of running in the Hakone Ekiden?

Propaganda 1:

Okay so, finally a sports anime that isn’t set in high school. (There aren’t nearly enough set in college.) MC is basically Older Running Kageyama, in both looks and personality. He has to overcome his past issues with his old track team, and learn to open up. I love the relationships that form between the team members. There’s one who is just Not Here for It and struggles A Lot, who just wants to go home and read manga. (Hey it me.) There’s also a cute dog, and a lot of the bg music is by the same folks as Haikyuu.

Propaganda 2:

I genuinely think this might be the best sports anime out there. It’s an amazing anime in general, with good animation, a beautiful art show, and a great premise, though what really makes it stand out is the characters.

RWTW is a character-driven story at heart, with all the main characters given their time to shine. The main cast is very lovable, and their relationships with each other are depicted in a sweet but realistic way. The protagonist, Kakeru, goes through a great character development over the course of the show, from being a lonely outcast at the start to accepting the other team members into his heart as found family.

While I’m not a runner personally, I still found this interesting to watch, since along with the training there’s a lot of thoughtful discussion on the nature of running: what it means to run, to be a runner. There’s a very philosophical aspect to it, which makes sense considering that RWTW is actually adapted from a book. The last thing I’ll say is that as a college student myself, it’s really nice to watch an anime focused on people in college and not high school. Oh, and the soundtrack is incredible.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol and Smoking

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form with your revisions, and I’ll consider adapting those changes.

New: Starting round 5, screenshots will be included in the poll post. You can submit screenshots through the form linked above, or through here, via ask or dm.

Guidelines in submitting screenshots:

No NSFW or spoilery images.

Pick some good images please. Don’t send any blurry or pixelated ones.

You may send up to 9 screenshots, but not all may be used.

[my-taelicious-kookie]

(ch.3) NORMALITY | jjk high school AU

Preview: anticipation is inevitable

Present

Maria scanned her new classroom, her eyes lighting up when she spotted a familiar face across the room. There, sitting casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder, was Jungkook. She felt a rush of excitement, knowing they'd be sharing classes together this year. Her mind buzzed with anticipation. She'd been hoping they'd cross paths again, and now that he was here, she couldn't wait to talk to him. Maybe he'd even join the dance extracurricular club with her, something she'd dreamed of for months.

As Maria settled into her desk next to Dani, Mr. Park, their homeroom teacher, continued on with his PowerPoint presentation. His voice faded in and out as she glanced back at Jungkook, planning exactly what she'd say once the class was given free time. Finally, Mr. Park announced they could chat with each other, and Maria was ready to spring out of her seat when the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Attention, Year 7 students," the principal's voice boomed through the speakers. "Please make your way to the courtyard for your orientation."

Maria slumped in disappointment, watching as her classmates started gathering their things. She shot a longing glance at Jungkook, but there was no time for conversation; the teachers ushered them out of the classroom toward the courtyard.

~11:30 AM~

The orientation was mid at best. Maria found herself in the middle of a team-building activity. The courtyard buzzed with nervous energy as teachers divided students into random groups, assigning them icebreaker challenges meant to foster camaraderie. Unfortunately, luck didn't place her in the same group as Jungkook or Brenda, but instead with Mia and Clara. At this point she'd rather be placed with the new students that looked freakishly similar like the weird art kiddos from Mean Girls (sorry Janis and Damian).

She took a deep breath, summoning her patience as they dove into the first activity: a dressmaking contest using newspaper. The group was supposed to come up with a creative costume, but Maria quickly realized that she'd need to take charge to avoid chaos. Mia was a bit of a perfectionist, trying to fold every sheet with precise creases, while Clara kept throwing out wild ideas that derailed their progress. Maria plastered on a polite smile, trying to keep the peace and help them focus.

'No wonder why they didn't win the dance competition', she thought.

Next up was an art challenge called "Paint and Pass," where each student added a brushstroke to create a shared masterpiece. Maria contributed her part, but it was hard to feel inspired with everyone painting in clashing colors. The artwork looked like an explosion of randomness by the end, though the teachers seemed delighted.

Afterward, they had a "goals and dreams" discussion session, which felt long-winded and forced. Maria found herself nodding along to everyone's aspirations without any real connection. Though she smiled and made polite small talk, deep down, she couldn't wait for the orientation to end.

Finally, it wrapped up, and they were allowed to head back to their classrooms. She let out a sigh of relief, her energy drained from hours of trying to be friendly and engaged. As she met up with Brenda, she couldn't help but vent.

"Ugh, can you believe our recess got pushed back because of that? I'm starving," Maria muttered, rubbing her stomach dramatically.

"Yeah, I know!" Brenda replied, rolling her eyes. "We might as well skip straight to lunch now since the lunch break is at 1:15. I heard the food's actually decent here."

They walked toward the cafeteria, glancing over the menu as they waited in line. The options looked pretty appetising compared to what they'd had in primary school. Brenda opted for an extra-spicy, Asian-inspired pasta aglio e olio, while Maria went for a simple piece of fried chicken. As they started to walk back to their table, a teacher stopped them.

The teacher's name tag read Mrs. Isidora. She looked at Maria's chicken sadly wrapped in a brown bag, eyebrows raised.

"Just a chicken? Will you be full from that without rice?" Mrs. Isidora asked, her tone somewhere between bewilderment and disapproval.

Maria bit back the retort that instantly sprang to mind—Well, Mrs. Isidora, I can't afford to buy rice and I need protein more than anything—but forced a polite smile instead. "It's okay," she replied, keeping her voice neutral.

Mrs. Isidora shook her head in disbelief. "Right, you young people are weird, eating meat without rice? Makes no sense."

Maria just chuckled, more out of politeness than anything, and walked away before she said something she'd regret. Brenda, catching the interaction, raised her eyebrows as they sat down at their table.

"Geez, what's her deal?" Brenda muttered, rolling her eyes as she took a bite of her pasta.

Maria shrugged, stabbing her fork into her chicken with slightly more force than necessary. "No fucking idea, but she could chill with the unsolicited opinions before I shove this drumstick up her-"

~2:45~

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Maria packed up her things, stretching as she stood and looked around the bustling hallway. Just an hour longer than primary school, yet somehow it felt like an eternity.

"Lord, it's only one hour extra from primary school, but somehow it felt longer," Maria groaned as she walked out with Brenda.

Brenda chuckled. "Eh, I just don’t pay attention—that's how you make time pass quickly."

Maria laughed, shaking her head. She can't wait for her first dance club meeting next week, where she'd finally get the chance to show off her moves and meet others who shared her passion. As they walked together, Maria realized she hadn't actually gotten to talk to Jungkook that day, despite all her plans that morning. Welp, that's a tomorrow problem. Today had been enough of an adventure on its own, and all she wanted now was to go home, recharge, and get ready to dive headfirst into dance.

With a final wave to Brenda, Maria hopped into her bus, her mind already spinning with thoughts of routines, music, and the thrill of performing.

'I really hope Jungkook considers joining the dance club.'

< prev chapter

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[severus-survives-au]

Chapter One

It started when I was quite a young boy. I didn’t quite understand why my parents fought, or why my father never considered me his own. But throughout my childhood I was abused, ridiculed. It got worse as soon as I got to Hogwarts. I’m assuming some of that has come to light with The Potter Pamphlet being made a few months ago, but no one really speaks about my history.

I arrived at Hogwarts ready to be sorted into a house. Lily was talking to me, both of us excited for the school year. I remember telling her, “I can’t wait for us to be in the same house, Lily!” If only I knew. Everything’s blurry, but I faintly recall her replying with, “Neither can I Severus! I can’t wait for this year to began.” We were naive children, if only I knew. But I didn’t… How could I?

Lily got called up before me, of course she did. Her last name’s Evans while mine is Snape, E comes before S. I don’t quite remember much from sorting, everything was a blur. I just remember glaring daggers into the back of James Potter’s head…

The term started and I immediately gained a liking for potions, but defense against the dark arts seemed more my style… My professors knew how strong I was in those two classes, Dumbledore himself put me two years ahead of the other first years in those two subjects. I was so glad, little Severus Snape was so happy. But my happiness was shot down when I met what I came to know as The Marauders. A nasty group of boys led by James Potter. Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew.

Almost instantly, I knew those four wouldn’t let me have an inch of happiness. And I was right. But what surprised me is that Black’s brother, Regulus, is in our year too. He’s a Slytherin, which I found odd, I thought he’d he a Gryffindor too. But no, he’s a Slytherin. It made me curious. Just who were the Black family members? I mean, I know of Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda because of how all three of them are Slytherin.

I grew close to Regulus, we were friends… Or so I thought.. It wasn’t just The Marauders who bullied me, it was members of my own house too. My only solace was my potions professor, Professor Veadon Vixen, a nice old lady who was an ex-auror. Sadly, she passed when I was in my seventh year, but that’s beside the point. Professor Vixen was heaven for me, allowing me to stay in her classroom and out of trouble. She was so sweet and I miss her. She’s in a better place now though, so I’m glad I got to spend those few years I did with her.

Everything got so much worse for me before the holiday break. Potter decided to nearly waterboard me, calling me “Snivillus”. I never quite understood what the term meant, and I fear I never will. But as my hair was pulled up and out of the toilet, I heard a familiar voice. Lily. In an instant, I felt betrayed. Tears swelling in my already swollen eyes, I wanted to go home… and that’s something I never wanted. But all of this? It made me want to go home. It made me want to go into my mother’s arms, wanting to feel her grasp around me as she whispered sweet nothing’s to me…

But my wishes were cut short when I got home. My ass of a father had killed my mom when I was at Hogwarts, so it left me with him. I never liked my father, he’s abusive in his own right. But at least, when he wasn’t drunk off his ass, he cared a small bit. A small, slither of a different personality showed when he wasn’t drunk. And that was something I grasped onto like a dandelion blowing away in the wind…

Honestly? I don’t remember the rest of my first year… I must’ve repressed it and I don’t feel like digging it up.

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

The Wormhole, Part 1

Long time no see, Tumblr friends!  To put it simply, college and real life have been my focus for these past few months and now that things are (hopefully) slowing down a bit for the summer, I hope to maybe scroll this hellsite more often than once a month.  

Writer’s block has also been defeated (for the moment) and I’ve got a fun new story in the works.  This one here is just one I’ve been sitting on for awhile.  Enjoy!  

Character Relationships:  Thorin Oakenshield x Modern!Female OC

Content Warning(s):  Mentions of manipulative behavior from an ex-boyfriend and his appearance.

Summary:  Reverse of the “Girl falls into Middle Earth” trope.  Thorin finds himself mysteriously transported to the modern world after surviving BOTFA and winds up in the care of a New York Academy of Arts teacher, Estel Cavanah.  She has no idea why this man is so incompetent with the day’s technology.  

“…And as you can see, the honey shade matches up pretty well with Nashville blue.  The darker tones cool the orange.”  I paused to glance at the clock on the other side of the room.  The neon red numbers signaled the looming end of my class period.

Or, by the way my students were shuffling in their seats and surreptitiously packing away pen and paper, perhaps it was more of a couldn’t-come-soon-enough.  

“Seeing as we are almost out of time, I’ll let you all go. See you on Friday!”  I smiled as the room immediately erupted into a flurry of movement.  The students, all eager to head home to relax at the end of a long day, feverishly packed up the last of their things and filed out of the room.  It was almost insulting how quickly they wanted to leave my class.  But I could understand their hurry; I had been a student once, and no matter how much I loved art, sometimes I couldn’t wait to get out of the classroom.

I turned to my own desk to pack up my stuff for the day, only to pause when a knock broke the silence.  Annoyance sprung to life at the thought of having to spend more time here when I could be at home.

Slowly, I turned around, wondering what student had dropped by.  But it wasn’t a student.  The person wasn’t even a resident of the state!

“Zach, what are you doing here?!”  I asked incredulously, unable to believe that the man was even standing in my doorway.  “You live in North Carolina!”  

“I came here to talk with you,” he said.  I shot him a look.  

“Zach, there is a reason phones were invented. Besides, what is so important that you come up to New York without calling me?”  I asked, propping my hands on my hips.  Then another thought occurred to me.  A much darker and more disturbing thought.  “How did you even know where I was?  We haven’t talked since high school!”

Zach just shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked further into my classroom.  “That’s not really important, Estel—”  

“Oh, I really think it is…”

“…I just wanted to see if you wanted to get back together.  I think we made a mistake when we broke up.”  Zach kept walking, and I began to feel the cold chills of anxiety trickle down my spine.  I stepped behind my desk, putting it between me and him.

I really didn’t think he would do anything, but at the same time, it felt like a very real possibility.

“Zach, we dated in high school.  We’re adults now.  If it didn’t work out then, I don’t think it will work out now.  Now, get out of here before I call security.”  I made a show of picking up my cell phone and unlocking it.  

He stopped walking, finally taking his hands out of his pockets to raise them in the air.  “Woah, slow down girl.  Let’s just talk, okay?  Just because we didn’t work out in high school doesn’t mean we won’t work out now.”

“I really don’t think it does…  And don’t tell me what to do, Zach.  You’re the one who’s shown up out of the blue after stalking me!” My finger hovered over the keypad on my phone, waiting to dial the campus police.  

“I’m not stalking you!”  The words burst out of Zach like an avalanche.  Immediately, his face became apologetic, and he took another step towards me.  “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, Estel…”

Instantly, I was brought back to my days as a high schooler trying to figure out both my life and manage a boyfriend at the same time. Everything pointed towards us becoming high school sweethearts.  Then one day the daydream shattered.  I was introduced to just who my boyfriend really was, and he wasn’t the man I had thought he was.  

Early on in our relationship, he’d stood behind me in my goals and dreams.  When I said that I wanted to be a teacher, he told me to follow my heart.  But when the topic came up again a few months later, he wasn’t as supportive.  

To put a long story short, he wanted to get married young and start a family.  My going away to college in a different state would put a damper on his goals.  That made me the selfish one in the relationship.

And he didn’t want that.  He did his best to hold on to our relationship and convince me to stay with him, but in the end I had to be true to myself and follow the path my heart was leading me on.  

I wasn’t sad when it ended; I felt freer than I had felt in what seemed like forever.  And the saying about hindsight being 20/20 was a constant presence in my mind as I went over our relationship.  I noticed manipulative behaviors that I hadn’t picked up on before. I realized how lucky I was to get out of it early.  To be true enough to myself not to give up my dreams for a guy.

Gathering my courage, I slipped my laptop into my bag. “No, I don’t want to hear anything from you.  We aren’t ever getting back together, Zach.  I don’t even know why you would think that.  Now, I have to go.”  Grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder.  Holding my phone—keypad at the ready—I marched past Zach.

I left him behind just like I had all those years ago.  No glances over my shoulder for one last glimpse.  I just wanted to go home where I felt safe.  

The walk to my car had never felt longer, even in the broad daylight.  Clicking the button on my fob to unlock it, I pulled open the door and threw my bag in before climbing into the driver seat.  As I sat and collected my bearings, a niggling thought rose in my brain.

If Zach knew where I was teaching, chances were he knew exactly where I lived.  Right down to the apartment number.  

All of a sudden, home no longer felt as comforting. It felt dangerous to go back to, despite how much I wanted to.  And I had no choice.

Scanning the parking lot, I pulled out of my space.

~~~

I showed up early at the stable I worked at part-time, not feeling safe at my apartment.  Coincidentally, it was also owned by my brother who was too busy managing the family estates down in Havana to spend much time managing it.  That job fell to me as his little sister.  

The black sheep of the family.

I could only hope that Zach didn’t know about it. Maybe I could buy a sleeping bag and camp out in one of the empty stalls for the night…  Or text Ash and see if I could crash at her apartment for the night. She wouldn’t refuse me.

At least, not if her on-again, off-again boyfriend, Mike, wasn’t around.  Then I really didn’t want to be in the same flat.

Pulling out my phone, I unlocked it and began typing out the message to her when the bugling of a stallion ripped through the air. I frowned, the noise out of place at the normally serene stable.  

Then I heard the screaming.  

Shoving my phone in my pocket and throwing open the door, I bolted out of my car and towards the one pasture that contained a stallion.  The most ill-tempered beast I’d ever had the displeasure of handling.  Although, given that I didn’t get involved too much with horses, wasn’t really saying much.

Quickly catching up to a teen who was also hurrying towards the commotion, I grabbed their arm to stop them.  “Grab a lead rope!”  I gasped before taking off again.  I could only wonder which cocky new teenage boy had decided that he would be the one guy Ferrari—the stallion—liked.  

And exactly how much legal trouble I was about to get into.

Turning the corner to the gate of the paddock, I stopped and did a double take.  The man currently dangling from the mouth of the bay stud definitely was not one of the kids employed here.  Nor did he look like the sort that frequented prestigious stables like this one.  He looked more like a well-kept hobo than anything.

“GET THIS BLOODY HORSE OFF ME!”  The man bellowed, catching sight of me standing like an idiot on the outside of the paddock.  

I snapped out of the daze I’d gone into and looked around wildly for the stable hand I’d stopped earlier.  “Where’s a lead rope!?”

I was answered only by a stream of curses from the man as Ferrari shook him like a ragdoll.  Then pounding footsteps heralded the arrival of the kid with a lead rope.  

Snatching it out of his hand, I jumped the fence and sprinted towards the grappling pair.  “Ferrari!”  I screamed, trying to get his attention on me and away from the unknown man.  “Ferrari!”  

But the stallion paid no attention to me and continued to grind his teeth into the shoulder of the man he had cornered.  

As Ferrari tightened his grip, the man swung at him, calling him a variety of colourful names as he tried to pull away from the stallion.  

I darted in, clipping the lead rope onto Ferrari’s halter.  Then I swatted his rump with the end of the rope to get his attention.  Instantly, Ferrari dropped the man and went after me. Jumping out of the way of his teeth, I waved my hands at the man now crumpled on the ground.

“Get out of the pasture!  Go!”  I yelled at him, dodging Ferrari again.  “He hates men!”  

The man didn’t move, and I began to worry about what it would mean if he was dead.  Probably more legal troubles than if he was injured, that was for sure.  Beckett was going to be absolutely thrilled.  

“Estel, I’ll take him!”  A feminine voice called, and I shot a quick glance over my shoulder towards the stable.  Chelsea—one of the most experienced horsewomen employed here—was jogging towards me.  

As she approached, Ferrari began to calm down.  Chelsea had a way with him that none of the other female employees had.  His ears were stilled pinned tightly back and he danced in place, but he wasn’t trying to bite me anymore.

“Hey, Ferrari…”  She cooed, taking the lead rope from me, and stroking his nose.  Ferrari snorted suspiciously.  “Come here, boy.  Let’s get you inside, huh?”  She pulled gently on the rope and led Ferrari away.

That left me with the unfortunate man who had found himself in Ferrari’s pasture.  As I ran over to him, he suddenly pushed himself up off the ground, clutching his shoulder and grimacing in pain.

“Sir, are you alright?”  I asked, dropping onto my knees beside him.  From a distance, he’d looked like one of the bums that littered the streets of New York, but up close was a different story.

He obviously had some concept of hygiene—he certainly smelled nice—and his beard was neatly trimmed.  And as he raised his head to look at me, he revealed startling blue eyes that pierced me with a distrusting gaze.  

“I’m fine.”  He spat in a voice that carried the thickness of an unfamiliar accent.  “Where am I?”

“Blacktop Stables in New York.  Now, I think I should take a look at your shoulder. Ferrari is a man-hater, and it looked like he had you good.”  I reached out to gently pull his hand away from his shoulder.

He let out a short laugh.  “Horses have never liked me.  You have healer training then?”  He asked, resisting my attempts to pull his hand away so I could look at Ferrari’s handiwork.

“If by healer training, you mean medical training, then yes, I know a little.”  He dropped his hand, revealing a slobber-soaked fur vest.  “Umm…  I think I’ll need you to remove your shirt…”  

He grunted, unbuckling the belt that held the vest closed before shrugging it off.  A dark blue, velvet looking coat followed directly after.  The movement of his arm caused him to grimace and let out a hiss of pain.  Beneath it was a metallic sort of shirt that looked like some sort of armor.  He pulled the armor shirt over his head, leaving him in only a blue shirt that reached almost to his knees.  

“Blast…”  He hissed through clenched teeth.  Gingerly, he lowered his injured arm back to his side.

By this point, I felt like I was watching the clothing version of a clown car.  I couldn’t help but wonder if he had another two shirts underneath this one.  

Unbuttoning what I guessed was called a ‘tunic’, his upper body was finally revealed.  And it made the artist in me want to weep tears of joy.

If ever there was a perfect body, he had to have it. Thick, muscled arms hung from broad shoulders.  There wasn’t a speck of fat on his torso to hide the chiseled abs this man possessed. And he was able to make it look like the most natural thing in the world, unlike some of those shirtless male models I had tried to use as inspiration in the past.  

“You said you have healer training?”  

The distinctly masculine voice broke me out of my…reverie.  Quickly, I focused my gaze on his face.  Away from the abs that I was itching to sketch.  

“Uh, yeah.  Let me take a look here…”  I peered at the bite mark on his shoulder.  Ferrari had left him deep indents of his teeth, but the skin hadn’t been broken.  Already I could see the purple bruising characteristic with horse bites forming in a wide circle around the bite marks.  His excessive layers of clothes had saved him from a much worse injury.

Not that he wouldn’t go through hell in the coming weeks.  Bites of this severity literally made you unable to move the arm without excruciating pain for weeks.  

“Will I live?”  The question was quiet, and I glanced up to see a whisper of a smile on his face.  Oddly, I got the sense that this wasn’t an unfamiliar question for him to ask.  

“I can almost guarantee you will,” I shot him a small smile.  “Just put some ice on it, take some ibuprofen, and try not to use that arm much for a few weeks.”

He frowned.  “Ibuprofen?  What is that?”

The fact that he was unaware of one of the most basic over-the-counter drugs was baffling.  Everybody knew what ibuprofen was!  

“It’s a medicine you can take if the bite hurts too much.  And from what I’ve heard, a bite like yours hurts like hell.”  I explained, leaning back on my heels.  “If you aren’t able to get any, I could give you some.”  

“No, I’ve had worse than a horse bite.”  He dismissed my offering.  “Now, you said we were in someplace called New York?  Is that on the Anduin?”

I stared at him.  “The Anduin?  I’ve never heard of that.  New York is a state in the United States.  East coast?”  

The look I got back told me he’d never heard of any of it.

This whole thing was weird.  First he showed up out of the blue in Ferrari’s pasture.  The same pasture that had seven-foot fencing supplemented with electric wire and was surrounded by private ground.  And somebody would have stopped him inside the stable.  

Second, there was the whole deal with his clothing.  It looked nothing like anything made today. That and he wore armor.  To be quite frank, it didn’t even look like it was from this world.

Third, he had never heard of the US before, and he was living in it.  

Or maybe I was turning into one of those off-the-grid hippies who believed in UFOs.  There had to be a logical explanation for all this.  It wasn’t like he actually had come from a different world.  That was preposterous.

He probably just hit his head or something when Ferrari was slinging him around.  I reasoned with myself.  He’s probably just a little confused right now.

Standing up, I motioned for the man to join me. “Follow me and I can get you a bandage for your shoulder…”  I paused, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Thorin,” the man supplied with a nod of his head.  “At your service.”

“Estel, uh, at yours.”  I fumbled, hoping I hadn’t just entered into some deal with the man.  Turning around, I took one look at the stables and felt my heart stop beating in my chest.

Zach was standing at the gate of the paddock.

“Oh, no….”  I whispered, frozen in place.  I’d felt so sure that he’d had no idea that I worked here.  Beckett certainly didn’t advertise by using me.  “He followed me…”  

“Is something wrong?”  Thorin asked from behind me.  I looked back over my shoulder at him, taking in his broad frame. He had his clothes bundled up in his arms, hiding his torso from the world.  Dark brown hair sprawled across his shoulders, untamed by any sort of hair tie.

“Um,” I looked back over at Zach.  He was staring at Thorin; a small frown on his face as he took him in.  Automatically, I began formulating my “it’s not what you think” speech in my head.  I knew what it looked like.  A man and a woman out in a field, alone.

Except…That was exactly what would get him off my back. If I was a taken woman, he couldn’t come after me.  

“Thorin, I know this is asking a lot, given that we don’t know each other, but I really need you to pretend you’re my boyfriend. He,” I nodded over in Zach’s direction, “is my ex from a long time ago and he’s been stalking me, trying to get back together.  I just need you to pretend for like a day and then we can part ways.”  I pleaded, looking up into light blue eyes.  

Thorin stared back at me, then glanced up to look at Zach.  “You don’t want his attentions?”  He asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah, I just want him to leave me alone,” I sighed. The defeat I felt over my helplessness must have carried into my voice, because the iciness began to fade from his eyes.  

“You’ve told him this?”  His voice took on a gentler tone.

“I made it very clear, and he obviously didn’t listen.”

“Then I will pretend to be your…boyfriend.”  He agreed, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  Instantly, his tough, rough-hewn aura faded to be replaced with a sense of security. “He will not lay a finger on you, Miss Estel.”

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[awrldalone]

4th September 2023

Today I finished moving into my new apartment. It took a few days, but now I think I have finally settled. A lot has happened in the months since my previous entry, almost a whole year has passed – I stopped writing because everything felt so repetitive, and constantly talking about it made me feel stuck in this murky whirlpool of cold days and aimless studying. I was drowning in myself, repeating the same words, complaining about the same problems. Endlessly. 

I felt like a stick of wood stuck in the river current, an abandoned lighthouse in the storm.

Typing does not come as easy now. Documenting everything paralyzes me. Part of me feels betrayed: how dare I write about what I did today when there is no record of yesterday, of the months from February to August? I dare.

I visited a Musée Cernuschi today. It is an impressive collection of Asian art, mainly from China and Japan and Vietnam, collected by one of those nineteenth century rich French men. The sheer size of some of the sculptures stunned me. An extremely detailed bronze dragon, which was an incense burner, a winding tiger covered in some golden metal and an enormous statue of buddha got all of my attention, but the pottery was also, simply, pretty. Mundane things have a right to be pieces of art – in an ideal world a small bowl should be no less beautiful than Botticelli's Madonna della Melagrana. For this reason I have been struggling to buy things, stuff for my apartment. 

It's a small room at the sixth floor of a beautiful old building, no elevator. I can see the roofs of Paris from my window. I am living in Paris now and it feels... odd. Some might say it feels like a dream, but everything feels so real, material, concrete. It's not perfect, and i know that living here will be hard, but it's better. 

Moving has not gone smoothly, I had to take care of a lot of things, like signing an electricity contract and changing the washing machine and cleaning for hours, but now I'm here, on my bed, listening to music from my phone and trying not to use up all my internet data before I get WIFI installed. 

–

February I got back together with my boyfriend. Everything is still so complicated, but right after I went back to Maastricht I left, without telling anyone, not even my parents, and I flew all the way to Lyon with only a few sweaters and my history of law textbook in my bag. I spent a few days with him, and everything was perfect again.

Then, during carnival we went to the mountains together. He tried to teach me how to ski, and I failed miserably, falling in the snow countless times. His parents own a little apartment, furnished with a warm wood that makes it feel smaller than it is, but never claustrophobic. He got sick and I played doctor, but it was all just an excuse for him to skip his classes and for me to stay at his place. 

In March, it was his turn to come. It was a snowy month, cold, not much happened– he stayed over for a weekend. I installed a DS emulator on his laptop and we played Pokémon instead of studying, and I started doubting everything again. I always doubt everything. I still don't know if it's meticulousness or an unnerving inability to let myself have good things. We made chocolate covered strawberries, but the chocolate was not tempered and the fruit was wet. 

We saw each other about once a month. My old glasses broke as I picked them up after having washed my face. The frame split without a word or a warning, and one of the lenses fell to the ground.

Once, in April, he came to Venice as I went back home for a few days during Easter. At the end of the month I went all the way to Lyon by bus and train, stopping in Lille for a few hours. Lille is a peculiar city, it feels more Belgian than French, the only way to describe it is a city proud to have been built at the border between two countries. 

After my university's MUN, in May, I took the bus again to Lille, and the train again to Lyon, because M.'s university was having an end of year party. Then, we did not see each other for a long time. I got into Sorbonne. I was waitlisted at first, and I spent a few days biting my nails at the library, among all the medicine students. 

I took a train to Paris in June to look for an apartment. I spend a few weeks between Venice and Rome with a Korean friend of mine. I travelled through central Italy – Assisi and Firenze and Siena – with some friends. 

A lot happened. A lot. But if I started writing down everything I would not be faithful to time. It irks me to see that the most eventful moments have been centered around my relationship. I am my own person, and the passage of my time should not be dictated by kisses. Love cannot be my metronome. I am not sure if I am happy to be in a relationship: Ce. and I talked about this a few weeks ago, in Florence, and we both agreed that making decisions while in high waters is always a bad idea. She was also in high waters, with her mouth under the waves. I need to let things fall into place before I can understand my feelings fully. Perhaps writing about them will help clear out my head. Perhaps I can't just wait for things to sort them out by themselves, I need to keep unraveling this ball of yarn just to roll it back up. 

Ago ergo sum. Our mandate is to create. 

-c.

[cryptidsurveys]

Saturday, October 5th, 2024.

So, how's adulting treating you in the 2020s? Are you smashing those expectations, or do you just wanna Netflix and chill all day? First of all, it was never really Netflix & Chill; for me, it was more like YouTube & Rot. Anyway, I'm certainly not smashing any societal expectations, but I am doing better than what I once believed was possible. It gives me hope that I can continue to make progress.

Remember all the fads and trends from the 2010s? Which one makes you cringe the most when looking back now? Vaguely…? I've never been a particularly trendy person. Most of that stuff just goes over my head. As for things that make me cringe…hmm. Maybe early memes. We've come a long way since the days of Courage Wolf and Socially Awkward Penguin.

In the 2020s, are you living the glamorous life you thought all adults had in the 2010s, or is it more like trying to keep houseplants alive and failing miserably? I never thought every adult had a glamorous life, but I was (and am) guilty of idealizing adulthood, especially when confronted with curated and idyllic social media posts. And heck, not even that - something as basic as a "grocery haul mom vlog" would make me yearn for that middle class suburban dream. ;D The second half is more like my actual experience. I don't have any house plants, but as I ease further into adult responsibilities, it continues to feel like a case of having so much to do and not nearly enough time in which to do it. There's always something I neglect for the sake of something else. It makes leisure activities feel like luxuries I can't afford, but…I mean, look at what I'm doing right now. And look at what I'm NOT doing (aka vacuuming the living room/family room). On one hand, I know I need better time management, but on the other, I can't just go, go, go without feeling like I'm slowly losing my sanity. It's a balance I have yet to strike.

Tell us about a moment in the 2010s when you thought you were the coolest kid on the block, but looking back, you were just as awkward as the rest of us. You know…I think I'll keep those embarrassing memories to myself.

So, do you adult better with a fancy planner and color-coded schedules, or are you just winging it with Post-it notes and sheer luck? My life is so routine and repetitive that I don't really need a planner/calendar. I also don't have much of an issue remembering important dates, but I will write them down if I feel like there's a chance I might forget them. I guess I'm closer to Post-It notes and sheer luck, but it works because I don't have all that much going on. Just the animal shelter (typically Friday through Tuesday), therapy (every other Wednesday), trips to the Mountain Park (whenever I can fit them in), grocery shopping (usually Wednesday mornings), and outings with my mom (also whenever I can fit them in).

In the 2020s, have you finally mastered the art of adulting, or do you still have an impressive collection of takeout menus and not a clue about cooking? I don't get takeout or go out to eat all that often, but I'm also not much of a cook. Most of my meals involve the microwave in some capacity. I can cook - it's not hard to follow a recipe and wind up with something tasty - but for whatever reason, I just…don't. Part of it is probably eating disorder related, but I don't think that's all of it. I wish I did more cooking - the idea appeals to me, as does the chance to eat even healthier - but instead I just eat the same few meals and snacks over and over again.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the cringiest song you couldn't stop listening to on your iPod, and did you ever dare to sing it in public? CAUSE EVERY TIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING AND EVERY TIME WE KISS I SWEAR I COULD FLY CAN'T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FAST I WANT THIS TO LAST NEED YOU BY MY SIDE It was apparently released in 2006, but it didn't cross my radar until the 2010s, so. And yeah, it was playing in Walmart a few months ago, and it was all I could do to contain myself.

Are you living the dream of having a fabulous wardrobe that puts fashion bloggers to shame, or is your closet a chaotic mix of hand-me-downs and sale-rack finds? It's a mix of Walmart, thrift store finds, and animal shelter shirts/sweaters. I'm not putting any fashion bloggers to shame, but you can definitely tell where my priorities lie.

Do you miss the simpler times of the 2010s when social media was all about posting selfies, or are you loving the meme culture that dominates the 2020s? I do miss the social media culture of Tumblr and Instagram especially. It felt so much more personal and tight-knit, a true slice of life, and I formed some great online friendships around that time. These days, everything feels so impersonal. Everyone's an influencer, their lives are a walking advertisement, and none of it feels real. I wouldn't even know where to start finding online friends anymore. Sure, some of the content is interesting/inspiring, but the people behind it feel so distant.

Tell us your most epic "adulting fail" moment that made you wish you could just teleport back to your carefree teenage years. Probably my failed attempt to work at the animal shelter back in 2021. I quickly crashed and burned. It didn't make me wish for my teenage days, but it was extremely disheartening, shame inducing, etc. I've been back volunteering there for about a year and a half now, close to full time since mid-July (I think…? I'll come back and edit this if I can find the exact date), and things are mostly stable aside from a few hiccups, but…I don't know. The failure of 2021 still haunts me. I want the animal shelter to be part of my life forever, but the fear of losing it all over again keeps me from taking that final plunge. Hopefully one day…

How do you balance being a responsible adult in the 2020s and still secretly longing for the reckless fun you had in the 2010s? I wasn't having much reckless fun. It was more like reckless self-destruction (that might have seemed like fun at times but...yeah). I'm also not a completely responsible/independent adult. There is a part of me that longs for more down time, and I have a complicated sense of nostalgia for my bed rotting days, but I know going back to that wouldn't make me happy. I'd be bored and restless and miserable just like I was before.

Confess your most significant guilty pleasure from the 2010s that you can't believe you indulged in. No judgment here! Probably conspiracies and all the rabbit holes that came with them. That obsession persisted into the early 2020s as well. I felt so hopeless in my own life that an apocalypse actually sounded like an appealing alternative.

Do you have a "best worst" purchase from the 2010s that you still can't believe you spent money on? No.

In the 2020s, have you upgraded your hangover-curing skills from greasy fast food to some sophisticated avocado toast? No. I just drastically reduced my alcohol intake. These days, I might drink once or twice a year, if even that, and not nearly as much in quantity.

What's your go-to dance move when you hit the dance floor in the 2020s, and did it come from an embarrassing attempt in the 2010s? I've never gone out dancing.

How do you cope with adulting burnout in the 2020s, and does it involve a secret stash of chocolate or a Netflix binge? Even though the animal shelter is my passion and I can't imagine my life without it, I still need time away to recharge. I try to make the most of my days off and do things that genuinely refill my cup or reset my social meter. Make art, visit the Mountain Park, purposeful bed rotting with some trash YouTube, maybe put off some house cleaning if necessary (or tackle it if it will make me feel better - it just depends), etc. I'm also fortunate enough to be in a place where I can take extra days off if I need them, but I try not to resort to that too often. The whole point is to get as accustomed to the grind as I can.

Share the most hilariously awkward Zoom moment you had during the great pandemic of the 2020s. I've never used Zoom.

Looking back on the 2010s, what was the weirdest internet challenge you participated in, and did you regret it immediately? I don't think I've ever participated in an internet challenge… Except for things like NaNoWriMo and Inktober, but those are…idk…more wholesome? Not stupid?

Have you finally embraced the fact that you're an adult, or do you still find yourself wishing you had Hermione Granger's time-turner to go back to simpler times? I have accepted…or have resigned myself to the fact…that I can't go back. Not if I want the possibility of a good life in the future. It's daunting as all hell - sometimes the responsibility is overwhelming, and there's only more to come - but I have to keep pushing forward.

So, did you ever jump on the "juice cleanse" bandwagon in the 2010s, and did you last more than a day before devouring a pizza? No.

How do you handle those moments in the 2020s when you feel like you're just a kid pretending to be an adult? Like the first time I went grocery shopping by myself? That was surreal. As a teen, I used to go to the mall by myself like it was nothing (well, "by myself" with friends lmao), but for some reason, grocery shopping was a whole different (and even somewhat trippy) experience. Even though I'm getting more comfortable going places on my own (mainly therapy and the animal shelter), I still have a strong sense of imposter syndrome.

In the 2010s, what was your worst fashion faux pas that you wish had never seen the light of day? Hmmm. Let's just say I definitely had some…outfits…

Are you now the queen or king of adulting, doling out life advice like Oprah, or are you still secretly calling your mom for help with laundry? I'm still fumbling around and trying to figure it out, and probably fooling absolutely no one.

Looking ahead to the rest of the 2020s, what are your hopes and dreams for your adulting journey, and how will you embrace the chaos with a sense of humor? There's just so much I want to learn/do - from the big stuff all the way down to the minor details. I think the main thing is that I want to be employed at the animal shelter before the 2020s pass. As for embracing chaos with a sense of humor…well, it often feels like hilarity is one thin line away from hysterics, so…while I'm not terrible at it, I surely could be better.

[mint-moon25]

*NEW* HOMEGOODS DECOR || STYLING NEW DECOR || HOW TO ACHIEVE A DESIGNER ...

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS

BARBIE - WORLD

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - WORLD

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN MALL

ALL 3 - SEOUL - TOKYO - JAPAN

BUILT - BY - MACHINES

DONE - SOON - WHERE

PLACES - REPLACED

TOKYO - JAPAN - MALE

SCIENTISTS - 1 MIN - BLDG

DISAPPEARED - OUR STUFF

WE - HEAL - THE - LAND SO

BUILDINGS - DONE - SOON

BUT - ROLLER - COASTERS

FASTER - THAN - BULLET

TRAINS - 2 - GO - THROUOH

2 - GO - IN - BUT - TONGUES

2 - ENTER - 2 - KEEP ALL SAFE

PREGNANT - FEMALES - GIVEN

WIRELESS - WONDERS - WILL

LAST - MANY - HOURS - SO

CAN'T - HEAR - ANYONE

KIDS - GIVEN - SAME - AS

2 - TALKING - EACH - OTHER

WORDS - SEEN - ON - L OR R

SIDE - WILL - SEE - WORDS

AS - THEY - TYPE - OR SAY

WORDS - WILL - B - SEEN

AS - RESPONSE

BARBIE - DECALS

HELLO KITTY - DECALS

CHARLIE BROWN - DECALS

3 WEEKS - PREGNANT

1ST - MONTH - PREGNANT

EMBLEMS - FREE

PREGNANT - FEMALES

ACCEPT - OUR - EMBLEMS

2 - WEAR - 500 BILLION EA

DAY - TAX - PAID - 2 - U CAN

SHOP - BUT - CERTAIN FLOORS

RESERVED - 4 - PREGNANT

GIRLS - AND - KIDS - ONLY

CLEAR - FREE - TRUCKS 2

PICK - THEM - UP - FREE

CLEAR - HELICOPTERS 2

NO - WIND - BLOWN - TOO

HELICOPTERS - FREE - PICK UP

CLEAR - TRUCKS - 24/7 - FREE

PICK UP - ELEVATORS - 2 BRING

U 2 - PREGNANT - FLOORS AND

KIDS - FREE - EXERCISE - AREA

PUSH - CART - CAFES - BUFFET

24/7 - ALL - FREE - CLOTHES

TOYS - THESE - FLOORS - ALL

FREE - MERCHANDISE - THEY

STILL - NEED - 2 B - SCANNED

SO - WE - KNOW - WHAT - YOU

NEED - WHEN - U - ADDED - TO

CART - IN - ADDITION - ARE - U

PREGNANT

500 BILLION - X 3 - DAILY

KIDS - IN - THESE - RESERVED

AREAS - IF U - VISIT - GET TOO

500 BILLION - X 3 - DAILY TAX

PAID - TOYS - 4 U - ALL FREE

BARBIE - WORLD

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - WORLD

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN MALL

24/7 - HOLIDAYS - TYPHOONS

ALWAYS - OPEN

MEDICAL - CENTERS - THERE

DENTAL - ALSO - FREE

BABY - DELIVERY

BLANKETS - BEDS - BARBIE

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - AESPA

CHARLIE BROWN - ALSO THE

BIRTH - CERTIFICATES - HAVE

THE - EMBLEMS - ONLY - YES

SUITES - BARBIE - SUITES

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - SUITES

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN SUITES

FREE - BABY - DELIVERY

FREE - FOOT - PRINTS

FREE - HAND - PRINTS

FREE - FINGER - PRINTS

YOUR - BLOOD - TYPE - LEGAL

PERMIT - NOT - PRINTED

DAY - OF - BIRTH NOTED

CIRCUMCISED - WITH

ANESTHESIA - 4 - BOYS

COMING - UP - ALL - WILL

HAVE - KARAOKE - BOOTHS

FIRST - FLOOR - OPEN CAFES

IN - MIDDLE - WILL HAVE YES

STAGE - EACH - FLOOR - WILL

B - SOUNDPROOF - EA FLOOR

SMART - TVs - WEATHER YES

BUT - WILL - SHOWCASE - THE

PERFORMANCES - ALSO - YES

BALLET - THEATRE

MUSICAL - THEATRE

HOTELS - HERE - BARBIE HOTEL

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - HOTEL AND

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN HOTEL

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS

ASKING - LEGAL - PERMIT

INVITING - TONGUES ONLY

INDIA - KIDS - TEENS - YOUNG

ADULTS - AND - ADULTS - TOO

EACH - MALL - WILL - HAVE

FREE - PRIVATE - SCHOOLS

FREE - UNIFORMS - SPORTS

STADIUM - LEGAL - PERMIT

2 YR - MILITARY - SERVICE

LAST - 2 YRS - HIGH SCHOOL

NOT - COED - OUR - VIDEO

NO - TEACHERS - SCHOOLS

WILL - B - CERTIFIED - 4 YES

MILITARY - TRAINING - FOR

OUR - SCHOOLS - REALLY

ARTS - AND - MILITARY YES

DEAR - KOREA - AND JAPAN

SEOUL - AND - TOKYO - RACE

IS - IMPORTANT - BUT - MANY

COUNTRIES - ARE - CRUEL TO

WOMEN - GIRLS - AND RACES

INDIAN - BOYS - SEPARATE

CLASS - INDIAN - GIRLS - 2

SEPARATE - INDIA - HAS YES

NO - ELECTRICITY - DURING

RAIN - EXTREME - POVERTY

WE'RE - RESCUING - ALL OF

THEM - 4 - HUNGER POVERTY

BUT - ALL - SPEAK - TONGUES

HELP - US - RESCUE - NOW THE

LARGEST - POPULATION EARTH

[vampireantihero]

Hello y'all, and happy (late) new year!

You can also read this on Ko-Fi or my website, but it's the same over in those places as it is here.

Good morning, everyone! I’m a few days late, but I wanted to say a quick Happy New Year to everyone. There has been a lot on my plate over the last few weeks between the holidays, filing business taxes, and some personal time with my husband.

So, I haven’t been super loud and open throughout this last month because I’ve been on a semi-hiatus (hiatus from Twitch and heavier video topics, but still illustrating, doing Ko-Fi rewards, and spending a lot of time focusing on practicing and improvement.), but I wanted to touch base today with some of the things going on here at Conquer Thy Fear Studio and with me.

Twitch

It’s a little bit later than I originally planned for my return, but I’ll be coming back to Twitch the week of January 10th. This is because I’m waiting on new internet to be installed here at our house; they originally were going to install on the 27th but we had a pretty massive snow storm that completely threw that out as an option. With any luck, they’ll be here in the afternoon on the 6th and I can have time to cancel the other internet provider and return the equipment. Mentally, I’m in a much better mindset than I was back in November and I needed this break desperately. I don’t know if this will be a yearly thing or not, but it’s shaping up to likely be that way. Maybe not the entire month every year, but at least the later half of the month for the holidays. We’ll see how I feel when we get to that point of this year.

For now, I’m setting a soft schedule— I won’t be sticking strictly to a schedule this year for Twitch, but you can look for me on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3pm-7pm CST. I may pop up without notice, or I might make my schedules week by week based on what I have to do work-wise. The Tuesdays and Thursdays will likely always be art, but I’ll try to pop up with gaming from time to time. I miss you all, and I’m excited to be coming back! We’ll see how this goes.

Classes

Back in November, I released a free class on Youtube talking about art fundamentals and where to start . Well, keep an eye out because I’ll be making a followup video soon! With any luck, it will be out on January 20th, 2023. This one will be talking about anatomy, proportion, and perspective— all really important fundamental concepts that are slightly more intermediate than the first ones I covered. I’ll likely be writing another newsletter around then, and I’ll link to the video when I do. This is going to wind up being a series of free classes that are available on Youtube, so I hope that you enjoy! This will go on for a while.

Pretty soon here, I may also be creating some paid classes that go a little bit more in-depth as well, but I’ll touch on that a little more in a bit.

Conquer Thy Fear Studio, LLC Store

The shop on the website is back up! I have mostly some small things like stickers and patches in the store for now. Be sure to check it out here if you’d like to own some merch! Most of the stuff that I’m selling in the shop is self-sourced, so it may take a little bit to get to you, but I also have some print on demand stuff in there that are professionally made from vendors I trust. I’m hoping to start working with some vendors to make some notebooks, washi tape, more stickers, and some other stuff to get in the store. Pretty soon I’ll also have art prints there as well, so if that’s something you’re interested in, keep an eye out!

One of the goals that I have for this year is to also have some courses available for sale through the shop. These will be announced ahead of time, and also likely have extra materials that come with them. They will be a bit more in-depth than what I post on Youtube, so if you’re interested in learning my process or something from me, keep an eye out and I’ll announce in the Newsletter when those pop up!

The Last Month + Upcoming Goals

This past month, with the break that I took, I leaned really hard into getting some other things done that had kind of fallen to the wayside or been on hiatus for a while. I started working on On Broken Wings a little bit more intently, and also cemented a bi-weekly Youtube schedule. These are things that are really important to me, because I don’t want to let your guys down by not sticking to what I promise. But, I also did a lot of soul-searching this past month on what is important to me and what I aspire to do here. Above all, my goal with building this platform and our little community is to make sure that people feel like they aren’t alone. I want people to be inspired, and I want to show people that if you fall in love with the process of creating, you can do anything. And I also want to make good art that fulfills me and helps others to see themselves in it, or to feel like they are seen and appreciated.

Part of making good art is practicing, and I gave myself a lot of time to just experiment with my art and also gave myself permission to just relax and not pressure myself to finish everything I touched. I also did a lot of practicing and going back to basics with my drawing goals, as well as practicing my fundamentals. One of the results of that is this:

This, my friends, was the 100 faces challenge. The goal was to draw 100 faces, lines only, in 10 days. So, this is what I got done! Some of these are better than others, and some definitely would look better with shading/having been rendered, but I was pretty proud of the accomplishment. I learned a lot doing this. Talking about this is leading me into one of my goals for this current year. I’ll be picking several of these to start trying to digitally paint; at least one from each day. I want to get better at digital painting, and the only way I’ll be able to do that is if I actually practice digital painting. Don’t be surprised if you see some of these again on Twitch, or posted throughout the next coming months. I’m excited to lean into the adventure and to refine my skills.

I spent a lot of December planning what I want to do for the coming year, and a lot of this in terms of work boils down to these three main points:

Start polishing my portfolio and applying for studio work

Make more content that people enjoy and market it better, as well as marketing my support spots better.

Show my gratitude to my audience and make sure that people know that they are loved.

I have a bunch of actionable goals written out for these things, but I won’t bore you with the details of all of that. At the end of the day, I know what’s important to me and I want y’all to feel it, as well.

Closing Thoughts

This is actually much shorter than I expected to be, I tend to be very wordy when it comes down to it, but I think that ultimately, I just wanted to touch base and make sure y’all had a joyous set of holidays. I know the holidays can be really rough for a lot of people, including and especially people who don’t get along well with their families, and my heart goes out to you. Lets walk into this new year slowly, and take the time we need to allow ourselves to really get our goals accomplished the way we need to. It doesn’t matter if you attack them vigilantly, or if you slowly pick at them and get them done a little bit at a time. Progress is progress.

So until I talk to y’all again, I love y’all. Drink some water, give yourself some grace, and do what you can. If you'd like to sign up for the newsletter, then you can do so here.

[bitcofun]

Cryptocurrencies Research study: Measuring liquidity with Bitcoin: Why this crisis spells difficulty for Rolexes and property Andjela Radmilac · 1 month ago · 3 minutes checked out A take a look at how Bitcoin's efficiency has actually been front-running all significant properties and why high-end products and property will be the last ones to crash. 3 minutes checked outUpgraded: October 29, 2022 at 7:57 pm Cover art/illustration through CryptoSlate With the 14th anniversary of the Great Financial Crisis of 2008 approaching, we will get in a brand-new financial obligation cycle that might reset the marketplace. Browsing upcoming crises needs a deep understanding of how all previous financial obligation crises worked and why they took place.Ray Daliothe creator and chairman of Bridgewater Associateswas the very first to put out the theory of the stereotypical huge financial obligation cycles. Dalio separates these into short-term and long-lasting cycles, where short-term ones last 5 to 7 years and long-lasting ones last around 75 years.These archetypes form the structure of Bridgewater's financial investment technique and have actually worked as a lifeboat that made it possible for the hedge fund to browse financial chaos in the previous 30 years.Taking a look at the existing market through this lens reveals that we are nearing completion of the cycle that started in 1944 with the finalizing of the Bretton Woods contract. The Bretton Woods system induced what can successfully be called the U.S. dollar world order-- which continued even after the desertion of the gold requirement in 1971.Cryptocurrencies Financial obligation cyclesIn a financial obligation cycle, the shortage of credit identifies where the cash winds up. When credit is plentiful, and cash streams through the economy, individuals buy limited possessions like gold or property. When credit is limited and there's an absence of cash in the economy, individuals rely on money, and limited possessions see their worth drop.Because 2008, rate of interest have actually either been exceptionally low or near absolutely no, considerably increasing the economy's abundance of credit and cash. This decrease caused a significant boost in the worth of limited properties such as gold and property and speculative financial investments like stocks.The most severe example of this pattern is seen in the U.S., as it's the biggest market-driven economy worldwide. This pattern led to the debt-to-GDP ratio in the U.S. increasing over 100%, making its economy very delicate to the motions of interest rates.Historically, whenever the marketplace has actually seen a noteworthy motion of rate of interest, a liquidity crisis took place. With the Federal Reserve anticipated to continue strongly treking rates of interest well into next spring, the marketplace might be preparing for an extraordinary liquidity crisis.Cryptocurrencies Bitcoin paints a photoComprehending the scope of the crisis needs taking a deep check out Bitcoin. It's still amongst the most unique possession classes, Bitcoin is one of the most liquid possessions in the world.In the previous year, Bitcoin's efficiency functioned as a frontrunner to the efficiency of all other markets.At the start of November 2021, Bitcoin reached its all-time high of $69,000.Chart revealing Bitcoin's rate from November 2011 to October 2022 (Source: CryptoSlate BTC)Simply under 2 months later on, at the end of December 2021, the S&P 500 saw its peak.Chart revealing the S&P 500 index from 1990 to 2022 (Source: TradingView)In March 2022, gold did the same and reached its all-time high.Chart revealing the rate of gold from October 2021 to October 2022 (Source: TradingView)Cryptocurrencies Alternative possessionsWatches, cars and trucks, and precious jewelry have actually likewise seen their peak along with gold as an abundance of cash in the economy pressed individuals to buy high-end and limited properties. This pattern appears in the Rolex

Market Indexwhich reveals the monetary efficiency of the leading 30 Rolex watches on the previously owned market.Chart revealing the Rolex Market Index worth in USD from November 2019 to October 2022 (Source: WatchCharts.com)And now, as their most illiquid property, realty will see a sharp fall. The real estate market in the U.S. reached its peak in September 2022, with the Case Shiller Home Price Index reaching its all-time high of 320. The Federal Reserve's aggressive rate walking has actually triggered home loan rates in the nation to double in less than 6 months. When integrated with skyrocketing inflation and a having a hard time market, increasing home loan rates are set to press real estate rates downwards and eliminate billions from the realty market.Chart revealing the U.S. Case Shiller Housing Price Index from 2003 to 2022 (Source: TradingView)Read Our Latest Market ReportFind out more

[redheadspark]

Not Chaotic

Summary: Who knew that going to the movies with Eddie Munson would be one the best nights of your life.

W/C:

Warnings: Just another little fluff piece

A/N: I LOVE Eddie Munson from Strangers Things, so much so I wanna write another little oneshot with him

Both Eddie and yourself stumbled out of the theaters, giggling so hard that you were crying and holding your lower stomach from that cramps you were getting because of your laughter. Hearing Eddie laugh was just as bad, his laughter was more of a roar from the pit of his belly and his nose. But he held your hand so gently, his metallic rings on his skinny fingers were touching your skin to give you a familiar shiver. He hasn't let your hand go all night.

But you didn't mind, not with Eddie.

He asked you on a date 3 days ago at school, early in the morning as you were working away in your art class to finish a painting that you were going to present as part of your senior showcase. This piece you were proud of, an abstract picture of Lover's Lake and using a picture you look of the Lake as a reference and your source. Eddie slipped his way into the room, in the same manner as he slipped into your life and in your heart some months before when you two met in detention. He was seeing detention for smoking in the bathroom, you were serving detention for stealing some art supplies from the supply closet without your teachers permission.

The Hellraiser and the klepto-artist struck up a friendship that afternoon and it grew like wildfire.

Now that you two were in a proper date, Eddie wanting to take you to see The Goonies since he's seen it twice and he thought you would get a kick out of it. Of course you wanted to go see it with him, you two were dancing around each other in wanting to date. You thought he was a unique spirit, going to the beat of his own drum and them some while he was shaking by in school. You loved his smile, it lit up like a Christmas tree when he grinned at you. It made his entire demeanor change a bit, no longer showing a scowling metal head who played Dungeons and Dragons, but a sweeter soul under his crazy hair and denim vest. You also loved his outlook on life, nothing holding him down or making him stop or pause. He looked 100% in the moment, being happy when he wanted to and doing what he loved.

"Was that a movie or what?" Eddie asked you in a snort as you were still giggling and nodded in agreement. You both were walking together along the sidewalk out of the theater, the dark night almost hiding you from the the closed shops in the downtown area while one of the bars all the way down the sidewalk was still active and roaring with the late owls of Hawkins. Eddie's van was parked there, he knew one of the bartenders there that would hold his van as you two watched the movie. "You were right, Munson," You hummed, seeing him throw up a fist in victory, "I did like that movie. Never took you as a comedy kind of guy any who,"

"Oh, you wound me," He mocked in a sad tone, placing his hands over his heart and looking like hew as shot there through his own beating organ. You rolled your eyes, hearing him chuckle before he took your hand in his again. You grinned slightly from the feeling of holding his hand, his rough and calloused fingers from playing guitar and working on his van were almost molding into your own calloused pads from painting and working with clay. Yet when your palms touched, your finger interlacing and fitting like lost pieces of puzzle, and feeling his heftier fingers clash a bit to your dantier ones, it all felt so....right.

"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm crazy?" Eddie asked you, making you look at him and nod your head as the wind picked up in the air, making your hair dance behind you as well as Eddie's hair, "I...kind of like it when we hold hands,"

A blush crept on your cheeks, "You do?"

"Yeah," he hummed, rubbing the back of his head with his spare fingers to show he was a bit nervous, "I uhh....I've wanted to hold your hand for a very long time,"

You squeezed his hand that was nestled against your palm, almost a silent signal for him to look at you as you softly grinned, "I've wanted to hold your hand for a long time too,"

"Oh," Eddie hummed in a hint of surprise, giving a rather big and nervous smile. This side do Eddie that was rarely seen by anyone else in school, his reputation for being the Metalhead bad boy who sold weed in the forest near the sports field and who played Dungeons and Dragons on Friday nights was known far and wide. Plenty of people were very afraid fo him because of his spontaneous outburst during lunch or in the hallways, his loud metal music from his van as he rolled into the student parking lot, or just him oozing darkness and chaos.

Yet it was so different with you. With you, he was a little looser in his stance and in his appearance. There was no need to keep the bay boy persona up when you two were together, he even went the opposite route and seemed gentler and kinder. He hung on every word you told him, especially when you described your painting to you after school or helped him with his science homework in the back of his van that was open in the parking lot. He never once looked a you in a ill way, more like you had the sure secrets of life and all within in.

In comparison, you loved hearing him talk about his favorite metal bands with enthusiasm and vigor. Even when he tried to explain the board game he was obsessed it, and you were a bit lost with all the rules and fan stay about it, he was still willing to teach you. HIs entire face was so bright as he spoke to you, also seemed so calm and collected and not bouncing off the walls. It made you look forward to your Math class that you two were in together, or even sitting in the back of his van with the doors wide open to watch some of the sunset coming over the football field while the high school game was playing. Those nights were the best: Eddie'e van tucked far away in the very corner of the parking lot as he was smoking weed and air strumming to a Jimmy Hendrix song on the radio. Leaving you to sketch the pink sky on your sketchpad and with your color chalk.

You two were each other's peace keepers and safety nets.

"It feels like you're the only one who gets me," He explained as you two walked some more in the night, Eddie kicking a pebble as he went on, "Like really really gets me. I mean, the guys in Hellfire Club get me sometimes, but not as much as you,"

"You make it sound like you're chaotic, Eddie," You said, your voice ringing in the wind as Eddie bit his lip with a hint of worry as he eyed you. You eyed him back, thinking nothing of it for a moment or two before he noticed he was still watching you. Almost like he wasn't believing you. You then paused, gently pulling Eddie back to stand with him as you were still holding his hand. You looked down, his massive rings on his pale fingers were nearly molding with the dainty ones that were along your own. Such opposites with just your jewelry alone...and yet.

"You're not chaotic, Eddie," You hummed, looking back at Eddie. He had a tinted of blue about him from the night and the moon hanging over the small town of Hawkins. Even in the moonlight, Eddie looked more like himself than he's ever been before. There was no one around you two, there was no reputation to uphold and protect. But maybe that was the fear of Eddie, being seen as weak when he was meant to be a hard ass.

His home life was already rough and chaotic, Eddie having to rely on his Uncle at the trailer park and needing to survive on his own most of the time while his Uncle worked at the plant. There were so many nights you invited him over to dinner with your family, knowing he wasn't going to get a full meal and asking your folks for a spare plate for him. They both were shocked to see him on your front step, but they were taken back with his manners and spunky personality. Inwardly, you knew they liked him. Especially your dad when Eddie go into a great talk about the rock bands of the 60's and 70's in your living room.

You knew then, seeing how his looked so safe and himself in your living room while he was debating that Led Zeppelin was better than The Who with your dad, that you were going to be his safe space.

"You don't think so?" He asked, a bit sheepishly with how honest you were with him on that sidewalk.

"Absolutely," You answered, "You have a spirit, not chaos. There's a big difference, and not a lot of guys have a massive spirit like you. We need more of that in the world,"

Without you thinking twice, you leaned over to kiss his cheek very lightly and gently. His cheek was cool against your lips, and you could have sworn you felt the smallest spark when you made contact. Maybe there was a small hint of stubble there along his cheek, and you pulled away before you could see his reaction. Blush was on your cheeks from the gesture, which seemed so small, but it was also massive and a bit nerve-racking.

Yet as you were going to walk away, Eddie pulled you back by the hand and kissed you on the lips.

You eyes slide closed instantly, his spare hadn't went to your neck as he held that kiss against your lips. The small taste of gum, CoCa-Cola, and even the gentler hint of the weed he smoked before he picked you up for the date, lingered between your mouths as you kissed him back smoothly and without that hesitation there. Your own hand reached up to touch his shoulder, feeing some of the strands of his hair against your fingertips.

You never smoked weed before, but you felt just as high as the grass itself.

Eddie pulled away after a few long moments, still keeping you close and holding your hand as he blinked slowly and looked are you with a new brightness in his eyes and in his stance. It was almost like he was glowing from the kiss he gave you, and maybe he was. Maybe you were too.

"Wow," He hummed, almost in shock as you grinned widely. You kept his hand in yours, not wanting to feel tempting if you were going to let him go, "I..umm....I should take you home now before your dad freaks out on me,"

You nodded silently, seeing the flushness in his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around you them, his fingers along your waist as you walked together closely shoulder to shoulder. Your arm went around his waist too, the pair of you saying nothing else but it was already spoken as you made your way to his van. Neither of you had to say it, but you two were beyond happy with what you both did with one another, out in the open, and with peace within your hearts. No chaos was noticed, nor was it felt.

The mood and relationship shifted permanently, from an alluring friendship into something more.

The End.

Tagged: @ftrmrs-barry-keoghan @heartofwritiing @awkwardfangirl2014 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @basicrese

[anyoneseenadam]

Healing

pairing: Azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: TW - sexual assault, rape, objectification and implications of abuse, smut, consensual sex, azriel is a sweetie and rhys is a good bestie

a/n: first of all PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!!! i’m really proud of this fic but I don’t want to trigger or upset anyone, that being said it isn’t too graphic but still. Anyway I hope u enjoy, this took me three days lmao <333

based on: this and this

—————————————————————————-

You had your first less than savoury encounter with men when you had barely turned nine. Your body still hadn’t finished forming, but you were growing, and your body was gaining some semblance of shape as you did. It wasn’t much – just a whistle from across the street – but for a second your heart seized up with fear, and in the next you almost felt giddy. A man thought you were beautiful.

You felt like a princess that day – felt the way you had when the boy from your class had kissed your cheek, still too young to process the intentions behind that single whistle. But you didn’t care – someone wanted you.

When you got your first period at twelve – even more changed. Your body felt new, and you didn’t feel comfortable in the changes. Your old clothes didn’t fit and now your mother forced you into tighter corsets for those long, long dinners you had to attend. Your parents were respected Fae in the Hewn City – nobles who liked to drink and smoke and throw extravagant balls. And with your new body you could no longer simply hide in the corner or climb through secret passages with your friends – muddying your dresses.

Now you had to smile when men hugged you slightly too long, laugh when they commented on how much you had grown up, sit pretty and pristine with an old mans hand loitering to close to your rear for hours as you watched your parents drink away their troubles.

By the time you were fifteen you were used to the constant attention, your beauty not uncommon where you lived but still doted on often. Unaware of their desire for your youth, your naivety. The women never offering a helping hand but instead glaring down high skewed noses as their husbands slurred into your ears – still in shock that a pretty, young thing like you was all alone at this party.

When you were sixteen you decided to change that – kissing an alright looking boy at a party and telling him exactly what he wanted to hear so he would kiss you back. He stayed when you didn’t protest as he pulled you to the bathroom and pushed you to your knees. And for this small request, the greasy hands on your body at balls and dinners or any other social gathering halved – now only the truly self-righteous felt they could touch you still.

The only problem was you truly did love the boy you had chosen. He had faults yes, but he was kind – he brought you flowers and kissed your cheek. But he also spoke over you, forced you into silence and took what he wanted. And he always wanted the same thing.

If anything it was his father’s fault. The military commander never leaving room for debate when he argues with his wife – and sons only become what they see in their fathers.

Your father had left with a younger woman a few months after your fourteenth birthday, and you hadn’t seen him since – only heard stories of him galivanting around the autumn court from your classmates. You could see the distaste your mum held you in as she realised she would have to stick around to look after you, not yet old enough to be married. Then Amarantha had taken hold of the country and that possibility had been thrown out the window anyway.

Weirdly enough not that much changed in your life when she took power, the only major difference was that now you had to block out screams before going to sleep and even they had become like white noise. You still drank with your friends on Friday nights, went out with your boyfriend on Saturdays and slept the pain away on Sundays. Your weekdays consisted of school, dinners, balls and whatever more your mother could throw together to appease the high queen.

That and the high lord of the night court had started making appearances at the events your mother threw. He was a cruel man standing so proudly at the queen’s side – but you saw something flickering in his eyes whenever people spoke, complimenting his power and rule. You saw what you felt as you laughed at compliments and lingering touches – you saw pain, but more importantly you saw anger. And right now you could use anger.

During one ball you watched him leave, taking an odd route – not the one that would help him escape the loud music but instead a long winding corridor leading to a series of smaller rooms. Without thought you peeled away from your company, muttering excuses and went after him – grabbing a bottle of wine as you did.

You found him reclining in an empty room and knocked on the door gently. He cracked open an eye – slow like a cat – and beckoned you in. You moved to perch next to him, leaning back with a straight back and letting your head loll slightly as you took a swig of the dark red wine, before passing him the bottle.

“You looked like you could use a drink,” you smiled, eyes focused on his sharp jaw as he held the bottle to his mouth with a laugh.

“One way of putting it,” he smiled. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes as you took in his beauty, his looks plus mannerisms all made him seem like a wild cat - a panther trapped underground.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked, and you raised a hand to trace that sharp jaw. But instead of devouring you as any lesser man would’ve, he brushed your hand away and held it tightly in his larger one. “That’s not gonna happen, you’re what sixteen?”

“Almost seventeen,” you said, cheekily. He laughed but shook his head, squeezing your hand before releasing it.

“You’re still a child,” he said matter-of-factly, and you scoffed, stealing your wine back to drink again.

“Yeah well that’s usually a selling point,” your voice was sad, but you didn’t dare let your eyes stray from his – refusing to show fear, “And you’re so nice to me, I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

He laughed as you pouted, “You practice this in the mirror or something?”

“Usually works in three seconds,” you confess, and he whistles under his breath, “Men are rather easy to manipulate when they’ve been trying to get into your skirts since your first bleed.”

“And you wonder why I’m not about to take advantage of you,” he laughed, and you smiled – a real smile, or real enough. “Plus I don’t think your little boyfriend would be pleased.”

“Eh, he’s never pleased - I don’t think this could make him worse.” Rhysand took the wine back and frowned.

“Does he hurt you?” his voice was sincere but the laugh you let out was not.

“Don’t all men,” he swore, and you laughed again, “Yet you foil my plan to make you fall in love with me and whisk me away to the moon.”

He laughed, but his eyes darkened with deep sadness you were sure you would never understand, “I think we both no that even I could not do that, but I might be able to crush your fly.”

“Little boyfriend? Fly? You really don’t like him do you?” you laughed, head lighter already.

“I don’t like any man who thinks they can hurt women,” he said, frowning when he realised through your passing back and forth there was no wine left.

“Shit that took us like five minutes,” you complained, and he laughed, waving his hand lightly as several more bottles appeared before you – you grinned as you grabbed another.

“So any friends with weaker moral backbones that I could marry?” you asked with a laugh, and he smiled at you.

“I’m sure I could find someone,” he leaned back again. You smiled – finally happy that one night might pass in the company of a decent man.

Soon, you’d find it would be more than one night, a close friendship quickly blossoming between you and the high lord. All your friends were convinced you were sleeping together but true to his word he didn’t touch you, and by the time you surpassed the age of eighteen you didn’t want him to. But that didn’t stop other men.

After a particularly bad argument with your boyfriend that had left you with a handprint on your left cheek you had broken up with him – sending away his apologies and flowers, smart enough to see he didn’t hold the mental capacity to change.

Plus you were beautiful and young, you could certainly do better. And you soon did – rich men who liked to buy you jewellery, and fine clothes, men who enjoyed literature and art and spending time with you.

And at the start of each relationship, for a few blissful seconds you would believe in their pure intentions. But then a hand would drift from your lower back to your ass, or the gentle kiss that followed a necklace would shift from your mouth to your breasts. Not one of them wanted to wait until you were comfortable, so you made yourself comfortable.

You pictured pretty, strong men were holding you down and making you feel something, slipping your own hand between your legs and they penetrated you to try and replicate what you were sure a lover’s touch must feel like. And as always – after the first time- they stopped asking for permission, you were their toy, so you no longer had choice over that part of yourself.

But through nice guys and bad boys, for fifty years you had Rhysand who was a friend – who treated you with respect and finally let you talk, let you breathe.

In the end he was the one who found you, in the backroom of a party – drunk and undressed. You were weeping, curled in a ball with your attackers’ seed dripping out of you, bruises decorating your bare skin. When he turned you over with his comforting hands he found your nose dripping red and the vibrant lipstick you wore smudged.

He helped you sit up and redress, took you home and stood outside the bathroom while you scrubbed yourself clean in scalding water – still unsteady on your feet. You changed into a nightgown silently and neither of you said a word when you crawled into bed next to each other, crying in your best friends’ arms as he tried to console you.

When you woke up, he was gone with just a scribbled message about Amarantha and the name of a healer he trusted. But you just placed it back down, turning onto your back and staring at the ceiling as hot tears ran into your hairline.

You barely ate anything for the days following your assault – fighting with your mother more when you rarely saw her and subsequently breaking it off with your current boyfriend. You had thrown his hands off you when he tried to touch you and the screaming match that followed ended your relationship.

Your bond with Rhysand grew only closer however as you spent nights drinking in candlelight, talking about anything and everything until you were sure he knew every inch of your soul and you his.

“You know what I’m going to do as soon as she’s gone,” you whispered one night as you stared at the twinkling lights you had hung on your bedroom roof to imitate stars.

“What?” Rhys had asked, never letting his eyes leave the ‘stars’ which he had laughed at and then proceeded to rearrange to make them more accurate. To which you threw a pillow at his head.

“Find a hill, or a pier, or a large pit or anything and scream into it until my throat bleeds.” You said and he laughed, the bed beneath you rumbling.

“Consider me on board.” He joked as you sat up to perch at your vanity – smudging the sharp eyeliner you wore with a small brush and applying some red lipstick.

“Wanna go out?” you asked him, and he sat up to with a small, sad smile.

“Can’t.” you understood his implication and frowned.

“I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t gutted me yet,” you tried to lighten the mood, but his face darkened slightly when he joked back.

“Oh she wants to, I’m telling her any information you give me about citizens, so she doesn’t.” He said, ruffling your hair as he stood to leave.

“That’s fair, I’ll keep an ear out,” you smiled, squeezing his hand gently before he left.

Things changed when Feyre Archeron appeared, you saw the way your friend watched her and realised you might be competing for his attention soon, but you were happy for him. Until he brought her to that first party – drugged and barely dressed. You felt the bile rise in your throat as you pushed down memories of yourself in such a similar position, and while you knew he would never hurt her – he was still a man. And you were foolish to believe for all those years that he was a man who would realise this was wrong.

Making polite excuses you left the party, picking up the tails of your dress as you all but raced home – ditching the dress and closing the blinds tightly as you made yourself food in your underwear. The sick feeling in your throat spreading through your chest and stomach as you ate, abandoning your meal halfway for a book and large sweater. And when he knocked on your door that night, desperate to tell you all about her – all about the human girl who he was sure could be his mate, you pretended to be asleep.

You barely spoke to him the whole time she was there, unable to look him in the eyes when she was so clearly out of it – and the feeling only grew when the next morning she would have all eyes on her. You understood that feeling. You instead spent parties flirting with Tarquin, the young high lord who was only a few years your senior or warding off marriage invitations with laughs and carefully placed words.

Rhys would sometimes catch your eyes – furrowing his eyebrows at you when you avoided his gaze, the sick feeling never really leaving. But it wasn’t until you watched Tamlin slay Amarantha with a smile that he tried to speak to you again. Feyre was Fae and leaving with her betrothed and Rhysand had just confirmed they were mates – and never had he needed his best friend quiet like he did now.

You were sitting when he found you, head in your palms and blood dusting the skirts of your dress. You had been sitting near Amarantha when it happened. You looked up when he neared, smiling sadly as he sat next to you.

“Want to go home?” he asked you quietly and you scoffed, standing, and moving to leave quickly. He followed after you, grabbing your arm as you wrenched it out of his grip with more ferocity than he had ever seen from you.  

“Don’t touch me,” he held his hands up, backing away to give you space as you got your breathing under control.

“What did I do?” he asked – smart enough to not presume anything.

“How could you think it was okay, after what happened?” your voice was quiet again, and so sad.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he implored, stepping slightly closer again. You raised your eyes to meet his and he understood, the darkness you carried in your eyes shining through – the memories that resurfaced in those dark moments. “I’m sorry, let me explain please.”

You let him hold your arm softly as he winnowed the two of you to your house where you sat down heavy and tired.

“I did it because she needed out of that cell, but I saw what they did to you and you’re a fae woman, she’s… she was human. So it meant that no one else would touch her.” He tried to explain, “And she wouldn’t want to remember.”

“That’s a horrible thing to do Rhys.” You stated and he hung his head low, “How in anyway was that helping her, to get her out you could’ve snuck her here or just take her to a ball and let her dress normally.”

“I’m sorry, I just knew this would’ve been the safest option,” he grabbed your hand again and squeezed it like he did all those years ago, “It’s over, we can go home.”

“I am home,” you laughed bitterly, gesturing to your house.

“No, you’re coming out of this city – we’re putting it behind us.” He stood and held out a hand.

“I know you’re trying to be dramatic and all, but I have to pack – and think.” You said and he laughed.

“Take your time,” he said, sitting back to wait for you, “And I know it might take you a while to forgive me, but I’ll wait.”

You had left soon after, as he revealed his city to you. Winnowing to a house where two beautiful women stood at the door, strong winged men appearing next to them almost instantly – all sharing the same tear-eyed look. Well, all asides from a short, dark-haired woman who simply smiled.

The men you presumed were Azriel and Cassian barrelled towards Rhysand, attacking him in the most violent hug you had ever witnessed. Mor followed soon after and Amren simply offered him a curt nod, to which he bowed slightly with a cheeky smile.

Cassian turned to look at you and everyone followed suit, you straightened up – not wanting to cower under their gazes.

“And this, this is (y/n).” Rhysand said, placing a hand on your elbow, “She’s the only reason I survived under the mountain.”

You smiled at him, annoyed still – but you still held so much love for him in your heart. You looked away when Cassian approached and wrapped you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly.

When he released you he looked you dead in the eye, “I am forever in your service.”

“Cassian let go of the poor girl,” Mor exclaimed behind him, and you giggled, looking to Rhys for support.

“Forgot to tell you he’s a hugger,” he shrugged, and you shoved his shoulder.

“Oh did you!”  you laughed.

“Gotta get used to it, you’re part of the team now,” Cassian slung an arm around your shoulder as he guided you inside, “which means lots of hugs and long talks about emotions.”

“Don’t steal my best friend Cassian,” Rhys jabbed at his brother as you all moved to sit inside around a long table.

“He already had I’m afraid, can’t reverse love like ours,” you joined in, patting Cassian’s hand as he punched the air in victory, Rhysand feigning pain as he dramatically collapsed into his chair – a hand over his heart.

When you were finally seated you caught Azriel’s gaze, his eyes locked on you – having watched you interact with his family for less than five minutes and already completely enamoured. You smiled softly when you caught his gaze and he grinned at you, no words passing.

Later that evening – after too many drinks, you found yourself alone on a balcony you found, drinking in the fresh air greedily after all those years underground. You didn’t realise he was there until he was next to you – silent on his feet, his shadows a cool chill passing over your shoulders.

You tilted your head to look at him, in awe of his beauty. Not even Rhysand had awed you as much as this man was, his beauty unparalleled by anyone you had met before. He turned his gaze down to you as well, fighting the urge to reach out and touch you as he watched you move with such elegant curiosity.

“We haven’t had the pleasure of being formally introduced,” you smiled, lifting your hand delicately, “I’m (y/n).”

He met your hand halfway, lifting it to his mouth with perfectly poised and trained grace. “Azriel,” his voice was deep, gruff – and sent chills through you quickly. But when he moved your hand from his mouth you held on, the sparks flowing through you telling you all you needed to know. He similarly made no move to let go.

“Are we? I don’t really know how any of this works,” you laughed nervously but he smiled so warmly and tugged you slightly closer to him with the hand you were still clutching.

“You’re my mate princess,” he said, voice rough from disuse. You smiled widely, eyes forming tears as your gaze never strayed from him – finally getting one person who would truly love you, not your body – but you. He tugged your hand gently and you followed him inside, smiling and love drunk.

“We should probably go to the house of wind,” his voice was quiet as you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“Me and Cassian have to share a room here, the bed are singles.” You smiled and laughed – irrevocably happy.

“Yeah maybe not,” you said, and he held your hand softly as he walked you to the front door, passed his past out friends, Rhys cracking an eye open when you walked past him, and you turned when he tugged your skirt gently.

You okay? He asked in your mind, and you smiled at him.

I’m perfect, why? You replied as he closed his eyes again, clearly too tired to hold them open - Azriel moving to retrieve your coats.

Just don’t feel pressured into doing anything you’re not ready for, Azriel is understanding he won’t get angry. A sort of cold feeling settled on your shoulders when you realised why Azriel wanted that extra privacy.

Shit forgot I had to do that you joked but Rhysand felt the stress growing, however before he could reply Azriel was by your side again and you were waving him goodbye, your smile tight lipped.

Honestly, you trusted Rhysand when he said that Azriel would understand – but so far you had yet to meet a man who truly respected the boundaries you set, a man who would truly wait. Azriel met your eyes in silent questions before scooping you into his arms, flying high above the house as you squealed in his arms, clinging tightly to his neck, and shutting your eyes tightly as you soared above the vibrant city.

He felt you tense as you neared the house, swooping lower in order to land on the large balcony attached to his room. He placed you on shaky legs gently and looked down to smile at you again – heart so full of love and peace.

Not only was his brother returned to him in one piece, but along beside him came you. His mate. His mate.

You caught his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile, terrified for history to repeat itself. You wanted to talk to him and know him – you didn’t want him to learn to love your body instead of you. And you were truly afraid to be touched again, you hadn’t been with a man since you were raped – fear stopping you before they could get close and walls slamming up if they tried.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice was dripping with concern – genuine concern, and the way he said it made tears well up in your eyes. His own instantly widened as he sensed the sadness and fear rolling of you in waves, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest. “Oh sweetheart we don’t have to do anything, c’mon lets go sit down.”

He guided you through the glass doors and sat you down gently on the bed, holding you gently and coaxing you through your breakdown. Once your breathing had calmed slightly and you had pulled out of his embrace, wiping your tears harshly with the butt of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, terrified to anger your mate when you’ve only just found him.

“It’s okay darling, what’s wrong – did I do something? You’re not terrified of heights are you?” he asked, and you laughed softly, a smile growing on his face as his worries eased slightly.

“No, that was fun,” he grabbed your hand in his scarred ones and you gripped it tightly.

“Then what was it?” you looked into those beautiful, worried eyes and let out an exhale – bottom lip quivering.

“I just don’t think I can – I can’t do that tonight.” You whispered the words lowly, afraid of his reaction as you clung like a child to his hand.

“Hey, that’s okay – we don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” he smiled, worries easing. You still wanted to be with him, just not in that way yet – and he could wait. He would wait a million years if you asked.

“Even if I’m not ready for a while?” You asked, and he held your face in his hands gently – looking into your tear-filled, defeated eyes.

“I would wait forever and then some – I have already waited so long to meet you, I’m sure I can last longer, especially if you’re next to me.” Your smile was so sad when you met his eyes.

“I’ve been told that before,” Azriel just pulled you closer to him with a cheeky grin.

“And were any of them your mate?”

“No,” you smiled at him again and he thought his heart was going to combust.

“Well then, I love to prove people wrong.” You buried your head into his chest as his arms came around you once more, “Would you like to sleep here, or would you like your own room?”

“Here is fine, I like the way you make me feel,” you said quietly, tugging on the bond experimentally. Azriel just smiled and tugged back.

“That works for me, I’ll get you a change of clothes.” He moved to stand but you stopped him – tugging on the dress shirt he wore.

“I want this,” you grinned cheekily up at him, and he laughed, but undid the buttons and pulled it off anyway – turning around to let you change in peace. When he turned back around you were looking up at him with wide eyes – looking impossibly cute in his shirt.

“It has holes in the back,” you complained, and he laughed, sitting down to tug off his trousers before sliding under the covers as you scrambled to lay in his arms.

“Well I do have wings,” he cemented his point by letting one drape over your shoulders as you sighed in content.

“Really, I hadn’t noticed,” you deadpanned quietly, burrowed deep under his arms and the covers. His chest rumbled with the silent laugh as he pressed a kiss into your hairline.

The next morning he awoke to you laying on his chest, tracing the scars on the backs of his hands with a delicately pointed finger. He stared in wonder, and you must have felt his gaze because you turned your head to meet his eyes, face still puffy from sleep. As you whispered to him that morning, your chin resting on his chest as you gazed up at him until he rose to get your morning drinks. Barely daring to leave for more than a few seconds. And when he returned he was so glad he did – welcoming the sight of you curled up under his sheets with a shy smile and tired eyes.

“Do we have to do anything today?” you asked as you sipped your drink slowly, Azriel’s’ arm tight and secure around your waist.

“Nope,” he said, delighted at the prospect, “I just want to be with you and my family.”

“Sounds heavenly.”

True to his word, for the next few weeks that past, you and Azriel didn’t progress past slow, occasional kisses and lingering touches. But before either of those he was always searching your eyes – asking permission. And you truly fell in love with him during those weeks.

He was caring and consistent – never promising anything he couldn’t bring. And he cared for you, he cared for you past your body and looks. He wanted to be with you for an eternity.

One night, while you lay together, speaking lowly and listening to the rain fall outside your room – a glass door cracked open, you decided you were ready. You pressed closer to him, your lips meeting his own in a kiss more passionate than you had previously shared.

He followed your lead with just as much passion, but when you crawled into his lap he pulled away slightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you,” he asked quietly, hands coming to rest on your hips.

“I’m sure, I love you and I want to be with you.” You told him sincerely, “But I haven’t been with anyone in a few years so I’m a little out of practice.”

You giggled nervously but he furrowed his eyebrows, “But you told me about your boyfriends?”

“Yeah but I – stopped dating about five years ago.” You tried to explain quickly, old nerves being brought up, but Azriel pulled you closer and as always his touch calmed you.

“Can I ask why?” he watched you drop your head a little as you breathed slowly – determined to not let your fear rise, you would probably end up telling him anyway so you might as well get it over with.

“I was raped.” You stated and his grip on your hips tightened slightly as he swore.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he started but you stopped him with a sharp glaze.

“You don’t need to apologise, it happened and it’s over now.” He could practically feel you pull away, so he loosened his grip on your hips and instead brought his arms up to hold you against his chest.

“Who did it?” he asked, voice dark and dangerous. You muttered a name lowly – under your breath – and he pocketed in the darkest corners of his mind for later. His shadows itching to tear the man apart.

“Look (y/n), if you’re ready I am more than happy to oblige but I need to know you’re really ready, I will wait as long as you need.” You pulled away from his chest and kissed him gently.

“I’m ready, I trust you,” he smiled up at you from where you perched on his lap and you giggled and he flipped you over, laying between your legs with a feral grin.

He made you cum three times with his mouth and those beautiful, beautiful hands alone – more than you had ever experienced with a man and he hadn’t even received any pleasure yet. Except from the pleasure of watching his perfect mate fall apart on his sheets, over and over.

And when he lay over you, your legs pushed up and wrapped around his waist, and his forearms on either side of your head – he would later swear he had never felt more complete.

“I’m here with you remember, will be the whole time.” He assured you, voice soft as he lined himself up and you smiled.

“I love you so much,” you whispered, and he pushed in slowly, filling every part of you and pushing against every spot you didn’t know you had. You swore under your breath when he bottomed out, the slight pain quickly being reduced to please as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good,” you felt shivers run through your body at his gruff voice and smiled, moaning when he began to move.

He pulled his head from where it hid in your neck and watched as you closed your eyes – head thrown back with a smile – and his hips bucked, desperately trying to control himself as he watched you arch your back.

“Shit Az, you’re so big,” you moaned loudly, unaware of the trance you had pulled your mate into.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered with a harsh thrust, a hand coming to stroke down your face as you opened your eyes to meet his, “So perfect.”

You felt as if your heart was going to burst from the love that filled it as you reached up to kiss him softly – conveying every word, every thought, through that kiss. When you pulled away you were nearing your end, the sensations building in you without the need of a fantasy or your own hand.

You moaned his name, gripping his shoulders tightly as one hand instinctively moved to stroke down his wing. He shuddered above you with a loud groan – his thrusts speeding up as he to neared release, yours hips surely bruising from the force of his own.

“C’mon baby, need to feel you, need to know you’re mine.” His words ignited something in your stomach, and you clung tighter to him, kissing his sharp jaw as you smiled.

“I’m yours Azriel, now and forever.” Your gentle words pushed him over the edge and his skilful fingers dipping between your thighs brought you down with him. The two of you crying out at the sensations you shared as a growing need to never let him go consumed you.

He collapsed on top of you soon after and he intertwined your fingers with his own as your breathing evened out. He slipped out of you, and you smiled up at him as he sat up, rolling off your body and laying to the side while you came to rest your head on his firm chest. He brought his spare hand upwards – twirling strands of your hair slightly as you rested in silence. After a few minutes, you clambered into his lap and kissed him firmly as he pulled you impossibly close.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to the world for giving him an angel that would willingly hold his hand and guide him out of the darkness.

“I am so in love with you,” he whispered back, and you giggled, a hand moving slowly to stroke him as you felt him harden beneath you again.

“Hmm, is that so?” you whispered.

Azriel, who had started pressing light kisses into your neck, nipped you gently, making you squeal, “What were you saying darling?”

“That I am also deeply, and unequivocally in love with you.” You replied and he rolled his eyes.

“Just putting me to shame with your big words.” He muttered and you giggled – crawling down his body.

“I’m sure I could make it up to you.”

[nctsworld]

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu​’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen​

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period. 

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was. 

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot. 

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.  

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.   

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand. 

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place. 

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.  

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries. 

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.  

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences. 

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss. 

[gingersnappish]

KYLUX RECS 2020-2021

My Kylux Recs in the last year (Aug, 20 2020 - Aug 20 2021)

SO. MUCH. GOOD. FIC!!! We are really lucky in this fandom to have so much good stuff to read!

Fic is part of the lifeblood of fandom, in my opinion-it shares new ideas and AUs and fleshes out the characters and most of all it inspires and entertains us all and engenders all sorts of feels for the characters-it’s part of what keeps us shipping! So a big ‘thank you’ to all the fic authors out there who work so hard at their craft and are generous enough to share it with all of us!

The following list is by no means comprehensive-there are LOTS and lots more very good fics that have been published in the last year that I haven’t read. I just wanted to offer up a few recs from what I know I enjoyed so far! (I also have more than fits on one list to rec-I’ll try and do another list soon!) As always, I rec based on personal taste, and I highly encourage reading all the tags/warnings on any given work to make sure it’ll be to your taste! -

The Flirtation Of Flowers 

DaisyChainz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771553

Words: 5,917

Rating: Teen

Summary:Kylo runs his farm's stall at the Farmer's Market every weekend. He has a new customer, a gorgeous redhead that is curious about the meanings of his bouquets. Kylo doesn't know anything about that, so he makes stuff up to keep the man coming back every week.

My thoughts on the rec: This is the cutest slice of a modern AU kylux-it really nails Kylo’s personality as a (slightly awkward) flirt who is trying his best and just really likes the redhead who keeps coming to buy flowers. Just a sweet little fic all ‘round!

all i have to do is dream

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709426/chapters/44373613

Words: 11,456

Rating: Teen

Summary:Armitage Hux has been going to the same bar every Thursday for the last year, nursing a crush on the gorgeous, unobtainable bartender, Kylo Ren. He finally gets up the courage to ask him out, only to find out he has some unusual competition: the memory of a red-haired boy from Kylo's past, who Kylo swears is the soulmate that got away from him.A fill for this SoftKyluxKinks prompt:Anonymous asked: Benarmie with young Ben (around 11 years old) having a huge crush on Armitage (16). Hux finds it adorable but mostly ignores him because he's a kid. Flash forward a few years when Ben is all grown up and Hux is the one with a huge crush.

My thoughts on the rec: This is another really cute young modern AU! I like the idea that Ren has liked Hux forever, but this deals nicely with the age gap and that Hux really wouldn’t notice Ren back until they are both appropriately older. And they make such a cute couple-it’s a great progression from just ‘he’s hot’-like, there is a lot more to them than that in the end!

Homecoming 

sigo 

(really, read anything by sigo, it’s all my favorite)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150808

Words: 13,450

Rating: Explicit

Summary:“We’re off the next two weeks, you know.”“Yes, I know.” There was emergency construction scheduled to fix cracking asphalt too near a pipe in the center of campus. The buses couldn’t run, and that phenomenon was the only thing that ever cancelled classes. Halloween was dead center in the unplanned time off school, and every bar within a fifteen mile radius would be untenable as the students celebrated. Hux was planning on staying home, catching up on grading. He was rather looking forward to an opportunity to reread his favorite novels. They were already stacked by the couch in preparation.“My family always throws a Halloween party and they got word that I could come this year,” Kylo said, shuffling his feet. He looked almost bashful.“Ren, it’s midnight,” Hux sighed at his infuriating coworker. “Get to it.”“I may have informed my entire family previously that we were dating.”

My thoughts on the rec: One of my all-around fav fics from the last year’s worth of my reading material! It’s got the modern AU vibes down pat without losing their personalities or making them too OOC, it’s got the fake-dating trope done REALLY well, it’s got a wonderful creepy vibe strung delicately throughout for the Halloween haunted setting, it’s got plot and make-outs (and more). Can’t recommend highly enough!

Thaw

thesevioletdelights

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28557180/chapters/69982587

Words: 14,316

Rating: Explicit

Summary:They have managed cooperation - efficient cooperation, even - in these past months, which is more than enough. And already nothing short of a miracle for both of them.Still. Ren was a fool to think he could simply run off and keep Hux in the dark.-----When Ren goes missing on a mysterious planet, Hux sets out to find him. He doesn't yet know that he just might find himself.

My thoughts on the rec: This, like all of violet’s fic, is HOT! Like, scorching vibes between them! It’ll draw you in and not let you go ‘til after the boys are ‘done’! And, like all of violet’s fics, the character voices and personalities are also impeccable!

Rocks Break Gifts

elderbwrry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25840237/chapters/62777839

Words: 16,706

Rating: Mature

Summary:The Rebellion has been crushed, a coup affected, and Supreme Leader Ren and his Grand Marshall Hux have settled into a domestic routine as the joint rulers of the Galaxy. Kylo wants nothing more, now, than to make his relationship with Hux official, but he can't seem to rise to Hux's challenge of a satisfactory proposal.Or, the five times Kylo proposes, and the one time Hux says yes.

My thoughts on the rec: Ahhhhh, the premise in this one is great! Like, I don’t wanna spoil the plot reveal at the end, so I can’t say too much, but there is a really good reason throughout the thing that this is a Five Times type fic and it works! It works so well and while we spend the fic ‘with’ Kylo, when we find out what Hux’s deal is, it is so satisfying! I Paint My Dreams

Marlon

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26685907/chapters/65090566

Words: 26,122

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:Kylo Ren is struggling to make a name for himself in the art world but as the grandson of the great Anakin Skywalker, a legendary pop artist of the 1950s and 60s, the weight of his famous family and his own expectations is a lot to bear.After he’s rejected from a prestigious exhibition because his installations “don’t fit the theme”, Kylo heads to the pub to drink away his disappointment. Later that night as he stumbles home, he’s set upon by some would-be thieves but before they can take what’s left of his money, he’s saved by a strange man with unbelievable Medusa-like powers. The ethereally beautiful man, Armitage Hux, is a visitor from Oweynagat and he has a simple proposition for Kylo - room and board in exchange for making all Kylo’s artistic dreams come true.Sounds easy - what could possibly go wrong?

My thoughts on the rec: Oh goodness, where to start? The Irish Mythology and Fae aspect of this fic is superbly woven throughout the whole thing and the author makes it work really well! Like, this is such a unique and original take on the kylux pair, I love them, especially Fae!Hux in this! And the plot is solid and you get invested really heavily in how they are gonna wind up-at least I did! There’s some beautiful language in this-descriptions and dialogue! And I have a soft spot for Artist!Kylo!

Dating a Monster

mysticmilks

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904/chapters/65139415

Words: 30,401

Rating: Explicit

Summary:Ben Solo was raised to be a demon hunter, as everyone in his family has been before him. He wanted nothing more than to prove that he was worthy to his family. He lied to them and went on an unauthorized mission to catch and kill an elusive incubus. His search led him to Arkanis University, one of the most prestigious schools in the country.He was sure the mission was going to be easy, before he met the cute freshman Armitage Hux. This meeting would change the fate of both of them.

My thoughts on the rec: Add another really good one to the slightly-creepy-kylux subgenre filled with demons and dark powers! This is a great depiction of Kylo as a very determined demon hunter and Hux as a very unique quarry! I love the tension in parts of this too-well crafted! The Green Ribbon

xzombiexkittenx, Lilander (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28630845/chapters/70176921

Words: 39,679

Rating: Explicit

Summary:When Ben was fifteen he left the Jedi temple and took extreme measures to prevent the shadowy creature that infiltrated his thoughts from dragging him to the dark side. What he did left him with a great deal of chronic pain and removed his most valuable weapon, but Ben got his stubbornness from every side of the family, even the adopted ones, and he was determined to find and kill the creature.Now Senator Amidala of Naboo, Ben uses his position to make the galaxy a less awful place when he can, but being senator also gave him very useful contacts in his search for the creature. When he met Major Hux of the First Order, Ben thought he could get game-changing information out of him, one way or another, but things rarely go Ben's way and it got complicated much faster than Ben had prepared for. It's never a good idea to mix sex and politics, but Ben takes his fun where he can get it.

My thoughts on the rec: I feel like this is a very original take on ‘Senator Amidala’ Ben, at least from the stuff I’ve read-many props to the author for such a fleshed out universe, filled with likeable, believable OCs, a wonderful plot, great character motivations and voices, and a take on our main man Ben that pulled me in from the get-go! He’s sorta magnetic (in universe and to the reader)! And the sexual tension and sexy bits are very well done! I’m rooting for Ben and Hux in this, on opposites sides though they may be! Comfort Zone

LydiaBSlade

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26783797/chapters/65338117

Words: 66,766

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux is running away. He meets a tall, dark, and somewhat annoying stranger at the airport.

My thoughts on the rec: Travel writing at its best; also kylux fic at it’s best! Young, modern them trying to find their places in the world and finding each other in the process is so cute and almost tenderly done in this! This is a gentle, friendly version of modern Kylo that I fell in love with, right along with Hux! And by the way, I’m not kidding when I say travel writing-the southeast asian setting is vivid and enchanting in it’s rich detail! Outnumbered, Outgunned, Outmanuevered, and Winning

Coriesocks, Ellalba (art)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217253/chapters/69144672

Words: 80,372

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hux’s plans for ridding the First Order of Kylo Ren are ruined when Ren discovers his deception. With no choice but to flee, Hux ends up in the hands of the Resistance. It’s not ideal, but at least he gets a break from Ren. Until he doesn’t.When Ren starts appearing in Hux’s dreams, Hux wonders if the stress of being a spy has taken more of a toll on his sanity than he’d previously thought. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he has to deal with constant pestering from Poe and a mildly inconvenient kidnapping. Of course, it’s Ren who saves him in the end. There’s clearly no getting away from him.

My thoughts on the rec: A really interesting take on something that is both a alternate rewrite of what could have happened instead of TROS and a TROS-fix-it of sorts! Hux is stellar in this, we really get a good look in his head and Coriesocks handles it masterfully! I really liked how their relationship develops gradually in this, it’s Enemies To Lovers at its best! Bloodlines and Brandy

EmperorsVornskr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989934/chapters/54963601

Words: 130,785

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Sebastian Hux is a native of the Deep South who loathes his origins, and seeks to pull himself from the stifling quagmire, but his bloodlines call him back to the property that has blessed- and plagued- his family for centuries.Unspoken secrets fill his inheritance, skeletons fill every closet, and a monster lurks in the shadows, tied to two bloodlines joined by fate, greed and hatred that has spanned across generations.As Hux learns about his family’s tainted legacy that has now become his burden, he discovers there is more involved than just having to be the curator of property that the locals shun with hushed whispers, that he has inherited more than an estate- he also has a terrible and loathsome horror tied to his very blood.When curious young locals come calling, and Hux’s past tormentors come out of the woodwork to simper and scrabble for a piece of the newly rich, the body count begins to rise, the smell of blood in the old slaughterhouse is getting harder to hide, and Hux realises that he will need to find a better way to pacify the hulking shadow that perches on his roof every night before his hometown’s tiny population is completely decimated.

My thoughts on the rec: This one is EPIC! Like, in length (which it needs every word of for the story that is going on here) and in the great portrayal of Kylo and Hux and their relationship! It’s super original too-not just the plot but the depiction of Kylo as something ‘other’ and the Southern Gothic vibes, and Hux-this is a wonderful take on Hux! He loses none of his edge, in my opinion and yet the reader is ‘with’ him all the way through, rooting for him! The descriptions are killer too-EmperorsVornskr has a felicity of expression that kept me reading (albeit in more than one sitting). Also worth noting that this is a wonderful and carefully handled depiction of trans!Hux, in my admittedly cis opinion. The theme of finding your tribe/your people/and your special someone in this, albeit in sometimes unexpected places is warming! I enjoyed every moment of this fic! Gravity Well

kyluxtrashcompactor

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062495/chapters/29879001

Words: 176,421

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Snoke is gone, but his death has solved nothing between Hux and Kylo Ren. The First Order's trust in their leaders wanes as they vie for power over one another, and if they cannot learn to work together, they may both lose everything they've worked for.Forging that alliance after years at each other's throats will not be as easy as letting the past die, however—they will face subterfuge, enemies in the shadows, treachery, and being stranded on a hostile planet with creatures out of nightmare, barely escaping constant danger with their lives while having only one another to rely on.And that is just the beginning.

My thoughts on the rec: I realize this one is very well known by now, but I’ll rec it again for good reason! It’s quality long-fic! I love how competent Hux is in this surival-style fic, even without the Force to save him! And Kylo is a badass! kyluxtrashcompactor is a master of the slow burn here and we’re even lucky enough to be getting a sequel (although Gravity Well will also stand perfectly on its own). The writing in this will draw you in and not let you go!

----

That’s all for now! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I did!