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ladyannemarie5 · 1 year ago

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Jaskier: the emotional support bard for EVERYONE

Well, remember my "Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in Vol. 2" post? You can see it here.

I haven't stopped thinking about point #16 (He's the emotional support bard for EVERYONE (Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and even Dara) but who the hell is my baby's emotional support?) and after many sleepless nights I finally got around to it to write something about it.

So here you have 2k words of hurt/angst for my beautiful bard. Because he needs to vent to someone and I love a Geralt writhing in pain and guilt :D

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Geralt is truly grateful to have Jaskier in his life. Having him is the true blessing.

The bard is always by his side, with a soft and understanding smile on his face, with the right words that will give shelter to their hearts and a joke to lighten the mood.

He knows just the right combination of words to make Yennefer smile sincerely. He knows what song to sing for Ciri after her nightmares. He knows what to say to elves who have lost their homes and families to always keep them hopeful.

And of course, Jaskier is always sincere about his emotions, the things he likes, the things he dislikes.

Jaskier is colorful, loud, colorful and true with his feelings.

That's why Geralt is at a loss for what to do when he hears Radovid comforting his bard.

Geralt was about to tell them both to gather by the fire to continue the party after saying goodnight to Ciri. The party in the forest was in full swing when both lovebirds decided to step away from the spotlight and spend some time alone.

"How are you, lark?" asks Radovid.

"I'm perfect, my prince. All things are finally flowing properly" replies the bard cheerfully.

There is silence for a moment, Geralt sneaking up on the pair, not wanting to abruptly interrupt their moment.

"I could see how your hands shook as we approached the fire, I also noticed that you didn't play your usual notes on your lute, and of course, you tried to sing the dirtiest songs in your repertoire only to have your friends tell you to stop singing in front of the girl" the prince murmurs softly and Geralt stops his steps altogether.

"Well, I wouldn't want a witcher and his sorceress to cut little Jaskier for singing obscenities in front of his daughter. You should thank me for stopping, I know how much you enjoy little Jaskier."

A silence follows, Geralt thinks the matter is settled, that Jaskier is fine.

"And now you're evading the issue" replies the prince in a tone Geralt can't detect. "You said you weren't afraid of the fire anymore but you sat in the farthest place from the campfire, you didn't have your twitch with the strings and I know you only do that when you don't want to want to keep playing the lute and I also know you only sing your dirtiest songs when you want to make people uncomfortable and make them stop asking you for songs.

I ask you again, how are you?"

Jaskier doesn't respond. Geralt holds his breath and frowns in the darkness.

Jaskier isn't acting weird, it's just Jaskier being Jaskier, Geralt thinks. His bard is always happy, in fact he is surprised that he always smells like honeysuckle and lavender all the time because humans always have a wide variety of smells about them. Sadness, anger, joy, satisfaction, and more and more, but Jaskier always smells of happiness, and several (many) times of lust. Radovid believes that just by knowing Jaskier for a few years he is already able to read him backwards and forwards. Like him

Jaskier doesn't say anything for several minutes and for a second, it seems like the conversation has stopped there, maybe he'll start cracking a joke about how being the most famous bard on the continent is taking its toll on him or maybe he'll comment that Radovid isn't giving him any enough attention.

If there's one thing everyone who knows Jaskier personally knows, it's that the bard is...

"I'm tired "

And Geralt's heart stops. Because he has never heard the bard speak in that tone. Not even when they had walked miles and miles for hours, not when they had spent days and days sleeping outside instead of an inn, not even when Geralt apologized after the mountain. It's not the kind of physical exhaustion that Jaskier always brags about, it's the exhaustion that comes from his soul.

A soft sound is heard and the witcher must not have special mutations to know that the prince has gotten closer to the poet “Dear heart, it is me. "You know you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not with me."

More silence. More doubts.

And then, like a dam that has broken, Geralt smells for the first time the bitter aroma of rotting dandelions: Jaskier's sadness.

"I feel so lonely." Jaskier sighs, an exhausted, desperate sigh.

And then the sobs come.

Geralt can imagine the prince holding Jaskier in his arms because the poet's voice sounds muffled and sobbing.

Jaskier talks about how he has always felt sad and alone since he was a child. How sometimes he is not able to remember his childhood because his mind has blocked everything bad to protect him. He talks about how music saved his life, how sometimes it's not enough and he just forces himself to make it enough.

Geralt thinks about the times Jaskier didn't sleep or eat because he stayed to write in his notebook, how he took his lute and held it to his chest saying that the muses were blessing him with inspiration. He now wonders how much was real and how much was the bard breaking.

The bard tells the prince how scared he was when he first toured the continent, fearing that he would have to crawl back to his parents to survive. The happiness of being able to find Geralt and follow him. The sadness of being rejected over and over again by the only person who was his lighthouse at that moment. The panic attacks he suffered when he woke up and Geralt was already gone. The tremors in his legs when he ran to the next town to catch up with the witcher and the fake smiles he had shown when pretending that their reunion was accidental.

Geralt remembers a time, in Temeria, when he found Jaskier drinking beer in a tavern and how his leg kept moving, up and down over and over again. How Jaskier told him it was the emotion that the red-haired waitress caused him. He tries to remember how many miles Jaskier had to walk by himself.

Jaskier tells him how devastated he was when Geralt left him. Because he knows that 20 years are nothing for a witcher but they were half of his human life. He tells him that he returned to Geralt because he missed him and is his best friend, the person he has the most faith in, but he doesn't think he can trust him again, not like before. Because he had been his only friend, his only constant after leaving and being disowned by his own family, because he had given him his youth, voice and friendship for decades and yet Geralt had left him. And his heart is so broken that he can't put another patch on it or will be useless forever.

He tells him how ashamed he is of his human condition. Because he's surrounded by gods who can set the world on fire literally and figuratively, he clings so hard to being someone magnificent like them, but sometimes he's so exhausting that the very breath escapes him. He tells that every time they make a joke about being weak, worthless or just being left behind he gets it because they remind him of his family, but now it has become a dull ache that builds up in his heart and he knows it's wrong, but now has gotten used to it.

Geralt doesn't even have a specific memory, but he knows that he has a lot to think about.

The poet talks about nightmares about being burned, about being left behind for being a mere human. Because he knows that he is only a second in the infinite life of the people he loves, that he is nothing more than a thorn in the hearts of the people he considers his family. Because they will live long, wonderful lives and the memory of him will one day be erased from their minds, and sometimes it's okay, but other times it feels like it burns his soul to know that he means nothing to anyone.

He tells Radovid that he is so afraid that he will leave him too. Because he knows that he can be a lot and feel so much that he is used to being left aside, but he doesn't believe he can bear Radovid's rejection and he doesn't believe can bear to say goodbye to the prince he has fallen in love with like never before. He tells him how much loves him, how fervent his love is, but Radovid is a prince, the representation of the gods on earth, the man who has armies and subjects and men and women at his disposal; and he’s a simple bard, with scars from torture and a lute on his back. Jaskier opens up and talks out loud about how scared he was when he met him, because he always jokes about being heartbroken, like every good poet, but he never talks about the fear of not being enough again.

He talks about his resentment and envy of others. He was always the bard of comfort for everyone, always the shoulder to cry on and complain about, always the perfect man to put down and feel good about yourself. Jaskier, the man who always smiles. Jaskier, the man of a thousand words. Always the bard Dandelion.

He says that has no right to cry and complain about his pain, because there are elves out there who have lost their homes, their family, and their lives. Because just a few steps from him, there is a girl who lost her parents, her grandparents and her entire home in the flames. There is a sorceress who was sold by her father, who was undone and remade countless times. Because he has traveled with the man with the purest and noblest heart on the continent, that he has suffered for decades without complaint. Because there is a prince trapped in a viper's nest next to him. He has no right to cry because he is exhausted.

But sometimes it's so hard to stay smiling. Sometimes the curtain must be lowered, sometimes his lips also get tired of saying words of encouragement without any in return, his arms are also tired of holding and not being held, his heart sometimes gets tired of loving without being loved.

Sometimes he just wants to sleep and not wake up again.

Jaskier talks and talks and talks. But for the first time, he's not about the best color for his doublet, but instead he mutters about the insecurities he hides behind those colors. For the first time, Geralt doesn't tune out Jaskier's inane, meaningless chatter and actually listens, hears the tremor in his voice, smells the pain in the air, feels every sob rumbling in his chest. And he wonders how he never saw it, how he always took his friend for granted.

It seems that Jaskier's words are exhausted, because all that remains is a deafening silence and the aroma of salt from tears not shed for years.

“You are not alone, lark,” the prince murmurs, soft and determined. “You have me, Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer. We are your family. We are yours. And I'm sorry you feel that way, because it was never our intention to burden you with our burdens. Because we love you. You are the light of our lives, and the only reason we all have a family. Jaskier, you are my lark, my heart and my soul. I love you more than anything, Jaskier. You can always come to me to listen to you, to cry or simply to be by your side, the way you want me, all the time you want me.”

Jaskier sobs again and Geralt can imagine Radovid holding him tighter, closer, because it's something the witcher wants to do.

Geralt walks away silently with only the thoughts of him.

He returns to the bonfire that miraculously continues to burn, with no Yennefer and Ciri in sight.

Geralt sits in his place. He thinks about everything he has learned from the bard in 1 hour and has been missing for 24 years. He wonders how much of what he sees in Jaskier is him and not his mask. He questions why he never asked Jaskier how he is.

Then he hears footsteps coming out of the forest. He feels Yenn sit silently to the right of him and then Ciri to the left of him. Everyone heard, everyone felt their bard break.

No one says anything, as if the bard had taken away their words. He probably did it. So the three of them sit together until they decide to go to sleep, always in silence.

The next morning, the 3 find a note from Radovid saying that he and Jaskier will take some time together. That they will soon find them.

The witcher, the sorceress and the princess shed tears together and then wait anxiously for their bard. Their lark.

#jaskier #my baby deserves the world #my beloved bard #radskier #geraskier #fanfiction #ficlet #the witcher #geralt of rivia #emotional support bard #angst bard #ao3fic #fanfic

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dyrus · 1 year ago

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today i woke up and saw tfblade post how he got banned three times and thought that was kinda crazy but funny.

but being one minute out of bed i skimmed it then saw a reply saying he needed to get off the net and that league is a childrens game.

this immediately provoked me because the thought of someone controlling someone else to be online and calling league a childrens game when i made a ton of money off it made me really angry.

so i replied with the "who the fuck do you think you are lmao" and was laughing on my way to the shower.

i played sf6 streamed played baulders with the boys, then checked back on it and saw a bunch of people saying i fell off, i wasnt human, one parasocial weirdo brought up my ex, and one guy being genuninely confused.

i felt anger and sadness for a good hour and then went back to reasess why this happened and realized the context was he didnt just fuck himself over but it was a korean bootcamp so a bunch of ppl that came over got banned not just him.

not to mention korea stans, vtubers fans, league fans all involved. so realizing that i stepped on a landmine i wasnt mad anymore and actually understood why the feedback was so awful and deleted some dumb shit i said and said sorry to the one guy who was confused on why i would ever say such a thing.

i was in a really bad mood at the end of my day but thanks to my friends who let me vent for a little i came to realize that i actually fucked up by not reading more. and even posting in drama filled with these kinds of fans. i'm impressed that anyone even liked my post because now i feel sick looking at the situation so i deleted it.

i still dont think it's right for others to tell people what to do and calling league a childrens game but i clearly missed the point and took a L today.

everything is good with me but i have no motivation to do anything besides play games and keep myself from being to unhealthy (i'm back at 230) but i plan on losing weight again before any event i go to (evo or twcon) next year and hopefully can post some very happy pictures once again like last year.

that was my day, i posted this because i feel like this is my safe space and i felt a little lonely for the first time in months.

i really dont think i would of done anything to much different in my life but so much pain is caused from misunderstandings and miscommunication and sometimes when i want attention and act like a fool once in awhile.

but i have a lot of gamer friends i enjoy playing games with so im good.

holy fuck i hate being bi now it's like double the horny and i dont need any of that.

thanks for coming to my ted talk

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meimi-haneoka · 1 year ago

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È il mio 10 anniversario su Tumblr 🥳

It's apparently my 10th anniversary on Tumblr 😳😳😳

This blog definitely didn't start as a CCS blog, or not even a Clamp blog, I remember I was in my Saint Tail brainrot/withdrawal period, and I wanted to ramble about it all alone on a personal space, always hoping that Tachikawa sensei one day would write the extra chapter that she talked about on her blog...hence why I chose this url. For this and another personal reason, actually. I also loved to RT all the nice screencaps and edits for my favorite anime...

...then 2016 came and the love of my life, CCS, came back and my blog was absolutely swept away by the excitement, turning pretty much into a constant stream of CCS content and chapter commentary for Clear Card each month. When the anime came out in 2018, things only got worse 😂 but then in 2020 I started to realize about the translation differences between the English version and the original Japanese, and I decided that my beloved story deserved better than that, better than being misunderstood like that, especially the new characters that in the meantime I came to love so dearly...

So pretty naturally, I started to vent my frustration compiling all the mistakes/differences every month, in a very "whoever is willing to read it, is welcome to do so" fashion. For my convenience the differences are always included in my commentary. I haven't gone around promoting my posts very much, it's basically always "I run into someone confused about a line in the Eng ver/got some facts wrong, I tell them that the original JP actually says something else and I leave a link to my blog".

The more the story went on, the more I wondered if I was stepping on anyone's toes for doing these posts, but with my immense joy it seems they got Clamp's blessing, so I'll keep doing them till the very end of the story.

In between these commentaries, I throw some other translations I do mainly for myself (Twitter Spaces where Sakura is mentioned, interviews especially about the anime, etc) and that I like to organize more or less neatly in one place, and that people can share if they want. And also my fanarts, even though they never do big numbers here. But heh, I'll keep sharing them here too, cause it's my blog after all.

So yeah, 10 years of this. There were definitely times when I've hated this website and its community since things were becoming pretty toxic, flames started randomly out of nowhere, I just hope once the anime will be back it won't be the same shit again. I stopped looking at the CCS tags because of that and other reasons connected to that, so unless one of the people I follow shares it and puts it on my dash, I almost never reblog CCS art/edits/gifs etc. Cause the pretty artworks aren't worth wrecking my mood because I found the nth person shaming something that I love (and the people who love that thing, with it). Sorry about that, my blog is pretty boring in that sense.

Luckily, Tumblr brought me also good things, so I guess it makes up for that. I've met lots of people from my current CCS "circle", here.

To be honest, I know I have 2626 followers (as of today), but to this day I still wonder why. I highly doubt all of them are here because they're interested in my posts, probably not even half of them, lol (and I do my best to kick the bots). Nonetheless, thank you to all the people who interact with my posts ❤️ and thank you for sending me nice asks every month! 🙏 I don't always reply to them right away and some of them I leave for later when I have a downtime (like this one ask that's pretty broad in topic and I'm keeping it for when I have a little more time and nothing else to talk about).

Since Clear Card will continue for a little more than expected, the monthly appointment here will continue in parallel, and I'm already preparing my next "trivia" post, it's a topic I wanted to talk about since looooooong time. 😉

#10 year tumblrversary #tumblr milestone #10 years on this hellsite?!#Naaaaah #You gotta be kidding me #I feel so old lol #Personal

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poet-shimmer · 2 years ago

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* rp rules.

fandom:

undertale + alternate universes (only)

requirements:

please be capable of proper grammar, punctuation, and multiple paragraphs (15+ lines). my ideal preferred length, for reference, is a message that reaches the sign limit of a discord message.

provide an rp example of yours so i can get an idea of your writing style. really, enjoying my partner's style matters more to me than the length. when i can really tell you're an eloquent, passionate writer.

be 18+. because of my own age, preference for a mature partner and dark themes. don't lie about that. please.

i have a bit of a 'funny' rule regarding ocs. i will only accept other canon characters (more about that below) *unless* you have an oc you'd like to pair up with swap!sans. even then, i won't accept just about any oc. thanks for understanding.

third person only.

be open to canon-divergence/headcanons. i very much enjoy hcs, and i tend to twist canon facts in favor of an interesting storyline.

*be active*. be capable of multiple answers a week at least.

communicate. i am very patient and forgiving with my partners, but if i constantly have to second guess if you're busy or bored with what's going on i might just cut ties for my own sake.

please, please, please don't let me carry the plot. someone who knows what they want in a plot and brings ideas would be so great.

tell me your triggers.

ooc chatter isn't a must per se, but it means a lot to me. it usually raises the fun and activity! dry ooc talk really affects my mood honestly.

playlists, moodboards and rambles/hcs based on the characters/plot? umm, yes please?? again, not a must, but *so* appreciated.

about the user:

call me rose!

they/them

above 18

CET timezone

10+ years of experience

can mirror replies with little effort

needs a plot

highly prefers discord as a platform

discomforts/pet peeves:

venting without permission

people who easily lose interest

triggers will be disclosed in private

yes men. please don't just say "i don't know" or "you choose" or "whatever you want!" all the time.

character information:

✅ will do:

favs

✒ ink

main!

lots of experience, lots of hcs

☀️ dream

secondary main

a bit of experience, a good bunch of hcs

🌊 swap

NOT blueberry

OC ship friendly! (only him)

🌑 nightmare

zero experience so far, but very familiar with the character and willing to try!

🗨 classic

☠ reaper

others

anybody who isn't on my 'won't do' list, really! especially if they're from classic undertale. toriel, alphys, undyne, papyrus... you name em!

❌ won't do:

any rps involving characters from...

underlust

underfell

glitchtale

x-tale

(+ any alternate universes of them. the story of underverse is not at all canon to my ideas. it's totally fine to like any of those! i just don't.)

ship information:

✅ will do:

any crack- or rareship you can think about. i'm serious. whether it's romantic or platonic (and always legal ya sickos). i wanna bring characters together most people wouldn't, discover fun dynamics!!

examples:

ink and classic

nightmare and reaper

swap and swap!napstablook

(those are still kinda tame, but you get the idea!)

popular ships are fine too! they just don't tickle my fancy as much.

❌ won't do:

romantic ships involving fresh, frisk, chara, asriel or monster kid

incest

important notes:

if you read and understood all of those, then please include this smiley [🫖] somewhere in your comment/pm.

do not comment on this post! i have a pinned message for you to interact with if interested. like it or comment and i'll contact you. (or just go ahead and contact me-)

(current) cravings:

i would give anything for a good drink (ink x dream) rp. really. so if you're an enthusiastic dream rper hmu as soon as possible, i b e g-

aside from that, i look forward to playing ink, dream or classic sans against any other possible character the most currently!

#undertale rp #undertale au rp #rp rules

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weemssapphic · 1 year ago

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This isn’t something you need to reply to, I just wanted to tell you that you kind of made my day. I had an unexpected flare-up and it totally wrecked my plans. On top of that (or maybe because of that?) I went down a negative rabbit hole about chronic illness online. So I kind of just felt like shit physically, mentally, and emotionally. I thought “I could really go for a comfort character right now” but I haven’t been able to find any fanfics with chronic illness in it. Then I figured “hey, you know who would be perfect at writing that? Weemsapphic!” (please don’t take that as a pressure thing, it’s not, I just enjoy your writing and your posts). And so I sent in the ask and then like almost immediately you responded. And you were just so positive and you seemed happy and everything else kind of just… went away. Truly, it instantly flipped my mood. So, regardless of if/when you write the fic, you totally fixed my day. And I just wanted to thank you for that 💕

(Btw, I hope your migraine passes quickly)

I'm sorry I'm just gonna go freaking sob at how happy reading this made me 🥺 thank you.

Flare-ups are the worst, and they always seem to come when you least expect them and actually really can't afford to have them. And then you often have to decide between canceling plans you were looking forward to, or pushing through anyway but not enjoying yourself in the slightest. There are so many layers to chronic illness, and some days will be better than others, but some days you just want to scream because it all feels extremely unfair. I'm sorry that your plans got derailed, I hope your symptoms are a bit easier to manage today, or that you at least are able to get some rest.

I don't feel pressured at all, I'm happy you enjoy my writing so much and I'd be happy to write it 💗 I'm so happy I could make your day a little better in some way - you've made mine better with this message <3 (and thanks, I took some meds last night and they're still semi-working so? a small win for me I suppose).

Anyway if you (or anyone else reading this) ever need to vent or need someone to talk to (about chronic illness/invisible illnesses/or anything else really), my inbox and my dms are always open! Hope you're having a lovely day <3

#asks #anon

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pronouncingitwang · 2 years ago

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[ID: 4 screenshots.

An instagram post by btsarmy222777. The image reads in all caps "Sorry I haven't been posting on here a lot guys I started taking a mood stabilizer and now I'm not obsessed with BTS anymore." and the caption reads "Still love them though 💜"

A pinned TikTok comment by mumther_hq that says "Are you still a TJLC believer?" The creator haliwr replies, "no actually i am on meds now hope this clears things up <3"

A notes app with the title "🚨Life Update🚨" that reads says "hey guys! Life update!!! So they found a bunch of mold in my dorm vent and since I've been home and on antibiotics I noticed how much better I am really feeling and also feel like I can think more clearly now, and with a heavy heart I have to admit I think being a no stunt Larry was probably the mold talking. Not really sure why any part of that makes sense, especially Louis's fake kid and them both hiring beards for 10 years when they pick their own managers now... guess black mold can really affect your brain hahaha! anyways i'm so grateful for the friends i've made through this community and hope all of you reach the same clarity as i have ❤️ get your vents checked everyone!"

An instagram post from jamesmcavoyupdates that has a photo of James McAvoy and is captioned, "im done with this account. Thank you for all the laughs but i have no motivation to keep updating on James. this account was initially to help me let my feelings out and sometimes rant but my antidepressants have started working and they helped me realize i actually do not like James mcavoy as much as i thought i did. if you were looking forward to my updates i apologize you will have to find another account to follow as i am no longer suffering from mental illness. Xx ❤️"

/end ID]

Compilation

#'as i am no longer suffering from mental illness' is part of my forever vocabulary #heritage post

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xiaojunsmintchoco · 2 years ago

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omg adding to the anon who asked for the nct dream reaction, can I ask for a sungtaro version as well? thankss

NCT Dream + sungtaro reaction: s/o doesn't do well in an exam

hey guys! so sorry for the long inactivity, I've been busy :") with a part time job and lots of flute practice my time is flying away lmaooo anyway as you can see I had 2 anons request this, and I'm finally finished with it! to the anons, I hope you enjoy this!

ps. we're gonna pretend the Shotaro one isn't kinda self-indulgent-

taglist: @moonsclover @bangchan-fairy (sorry guys I totally forgot about my taglist 😐)

Mark:

"y/n! y/n!"

Turning around, you're greeted with the sight of Mark running up to you, grinning like a cheshire cat as he links his arm with yours. "School's finally over for the year! How should we celebrate?"

His rambling about post-examination plans soon fade and turn into background noise as you space out, the displeased glare of your teacher as she unceremoniously tossed your result slip onto your desk replaying in your mind like a broken DVD. As your feelings of failure and self-doubt consume you slowly, you fail to notice Mark waving his fingers in front of your face, having realised that you were in a world of your own.

"y/n? Dude, you good?" He inquires, eyes shining with concern. "You spaced out. Is something the matter?"

"Thanks for your concern Mark, but I'm fine. It's nothing much, really," you reply, as you didn't want to ruin his post-examination celebratory mood by venting to him. However, the monotone in which you said that convinced Mark otherwise.

"Dude, c'mon. After all this time we've been together, I can read you like an open book. Something's definitely up," Mark objects. "C'mon, spill the tea. You know you can tell me anything".

You knew that because Mark watched out for you and your wellbeing like a hawk, he wouldn't drop the subject until you told him what was on your mind. With a disheartened huff, you told him everything. "I did worse than I expected for every subject, except Math, and even then I didn't get a stellar score on it. It just feels like all my mugging was for nothing. I'm sorry, but I don't feel like celebrating today – my dismal results aren't worthy of a celebration," you conclude.

"Dude, hey, listen". Mark interjects, bringing up his hands to wipe away the tears that you didn't realise had slipped out of your eyes. "You've done your best, and that's all anyone can ask for. It may not feel like enough sometimes – like now, but there are people who see how hard you work and acknowledge them, okay? I know for a fact you stayed late in school for weeks on end to study for these exams," he points out. "There's always more opportunities to try again," he reminds, moving in to give you a warm hug.

"Thanks so much Mark, I do feel better," you say, tears having been replaced by a smile.

"You deserve to relax after all the hard work, regardless of the results. Shall we go to my house and hang out? We can play on my Switch together!" Mark suggests, his previous exuberance having returned.

You nod eagerly, returning his excited grin. "Sure!"

Renjun:

The moment you brushed past Renjun and made a beeline for your shared room instead of greeting him with a warm hug as you usually did, he knew something was wrong. "Y/n? Hey, what's wrong?" He questions, voice tinged with notes of concern. Knocking on the door twice, he waits for you to tell him to come in, and his heart drops when he sees you sitting at your study table, head buried in your hands and shoulders shaking with every sob. He rushes over and begins rubbing circles on your back in an attempt to soothe you, and one look at the stack of papers beside you on the table told him that it was your results that you were so disheartened over. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks comfortingly.

"I…" you sniff, trying to calm yourself down. "I'm so disappointed. I studied my ass off for these exams, yet I did so horribly. Even my form teacher told me that she was disappointed in me," you explain, in between sniffles and cries.

"Oh, y/n…" At this moment, Renjun wraps his arms around you in a warm hug, allowing you to lean into him and soak up the comfort he was offering. "Hey, I know hearing such words can sting a lot, especially coming at a time when you're already feeling disappointed with yourself. But I see how hard you worked for these exams and the tremendous amount of effort you put in for these exams, and I think you've done well, okay? It's time to let yourself breathe – you've done what you can, and I'm so proud of you".

Hearing those words from your boyfriend struck something in you, and it made you realise that after all, there was someone who saw all your efforts, even in this time where it felt as if they were going down the drain unnoticed. The floodgates opened and you burst into tears as Renjun continued to keep you in his warm embrace, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

When you manage to calm down, Renjun releases you from his hold. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?" he asks.

"I don't know…honestly, I think a nap would be great. Maybe I'll feel better after I wake up," you respond.

"Okay. You definitely deserve a nap," Renjun replies, leading you to your bed. "What about we get your favourite takeout tonight for dinner?" he suggests.

You shoot him a small smile of gratitude and nod weakly. "That sounds great. Thank you so much, Renjun. I love you".

Renjun begins to make his exit from your room and closes the door slowly. "I love you too – and remember, that does not depend on the kinds of grades you get at all".

Jeno:

The sound of your doorbell jolts you from your train of thought. Sighing, you rise from your seat on the couch with an air of reluctance and move to answer the door, knowing very well who was there – your boyfriend, Jeno. While you usually loved seeing him, because you were feeling down about your examination results, which had been less than ideal, you weren't in the mood to see anyone, not even your boyfriend. Still, you opened the door, only to be greeted by his trademark eye smile.

"Y/n!" Jeno greets, making his way into the house as you let him in. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"I'm happy to see you too," you respond and plaster on a smile, hoping it was convincing enough. However, Jeno noticed that your smile did not quite reach your eyes as it usually would. Nevertheless, he was sure that the surprise he had brought you would cheer you up, regardless of whatever had got you down.

"Since examinations are over, I thought I'd stop by the bakery and get you the cream puffs you love so much as a treat," he says, walking in and handing you the paper bag. "Here, enjoy!"

"Thanks Jeno, but…" your voice trails off as you gently push the bag away. "I don't deserve it. It's alright, you can have it".

"Y/n, why would you say that?" he asks, perplexed that you'd just refused something he'd bought for you for the first time.

"All my grades are either borderline passes or fails, and my teacher says it's because I didn't work hard enough," you explain. "I think she might be right". Tears well up in your eyes as the feeling of failure weighs down on you, and you swear you can hear your heart shattering into smithereens.

Within seconds, Jeno's arms are around you, engulfing you in a soothing embrace while silently piecing together words of comfort in his mind. "Your grades don't define you, y/n," he begins, rubbing comforting circles on your back. "You're so much more than just a stupid number on a silly piece of paper, don't let it define your worth. In doing so, you'll just make yourself miserable, you know? Those who truly care about you will definitely see past your grades, and recognise that what makes you you is stuff like your interests, personality and character. If they don't see that, then that's their loss. I love you for who you are, y/n, and nothing will ever change that – no matter whether you pass or fail your exams. I'll always be right here," he concludes. His touching words bring on a fresh wave of tears, not because you were still sad, but because his sincerity touched your heart, and because you felt reassured that your boyfriend really loved and valued you for who you are, regardless of what you did or didn't achieve. "It's alright. Let it all out," he reassures, tightening his hold around you.

You spend a few more minutes soaking up the warmth of his embrace as he continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ears. "Feel better now?" he asks softly, wiping away the last of your tears.

"I do. Thank you, Jeno," you answer honestly.

His eye smile reappears, glad that you were feeling much better than earlier. "Go ahead and eat the cream puffs. You definitely deserve them, especially after all the hard work you put in. After that, what do you say we chill on the couch with a movie?" he suggests.

You smile back, nodding eagerly. "Sounds great".

Haechan:

The moment the creak of the door reached his ears, Haechan came speeding out of his room at a speed even Usain Bolt could only dream of. "Y/n-ahh!" he yells out with his usual exuberance, but slows down when you merely return his greeting with a half-hearted grunt. Something was wrong, and he could tell.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Haechan questions, placing a hand on your shoulder out of concern as you're making your way to your room.

"Haechan-ah, I think I'd like to be alone for a bit. It's nothing to do with you, I promise," you hurriedly squeeze out the words.

Taken aback, Haechan takes a moment to read your expression and make his own inference about your situation. You'd just ended exams last week, and you'd just gotten back from school…"It's the exams, right? The results?" He picks his words carefully, afraid to upset you further.

"Yeah, it's that," you sigh, shoulders sagging. Haechan nods, immediately comprehending. You needed your alone time right now, and that was fine. He could always check on you again later.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Haechan muses in understanding. "I'll leave you alone for as long as you need. Then if you want, you can tell me more later?" he suggests, which you agree to. "Okay then. Go to your room first. I'll fix you a drink. And I want you to know, whatever grades you obtain won't change how I view you. I still love and care for you all the same, and you'll still be my precious y/n," he adds.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Haechan arrives at your room with a cup of tea. "Thank you so much, Haechan-ah. I really appreciate it," you say, expressing your sincere gratitude.

In return, he shoots you a bread smile. "Rest well," he whispers, shutting the door. As you sip on the tea, you feel it warm your heart as well, knowing that your boyfriend cared so much about you and loved you beyond your grades.

Jaemin:

Normally, the smell of food cooking as soon as you enter home was an instant refresher to you, but today, it failed to put even the slightest sliver of a smile on your face – and being ever so observant, Jaemin had realised that. "y/n-ah? You alright? You seem so sad," he asks while setting dishes on the table, the notes of concern in his voice reaching your ears.

"Stupid end-of-years," you mumble, tossing your backpack to the side and shuffling into the house. "I study so hard, and the results come back trashier than ever".

"Oh…I'm so sorry to hear that. That feeling sucks so bad," Jaemin grunts empathetically, wiping his hands on his apron and hurrying over to you. Before you know it, you're wrapped securely in his embrace, and he's uttering words of comfort to you. "You've done well, y/n. I really think you have. I know you might think the results show otherwise, but you put in so much effort and worked your head off the whole school. You deserve to rest. Great job for making it through, and I want you to know – I love you, no matter what," he whispers, running his fingers through your hair gently.

"Thank you so much, Jaemin. I love you too," you reply, feeling some of the heaviness in your heart lift. "Though this round of exams was disappointing, it's over- nothing much I can do about it. I might as well focus on the next one," you conclude.

"That's the spirit," Jaemin affirms, lips curving into a fond smile. "Come, let's have dinner- I made your favourite. Hope it cheers you up," he adds, leading you to the dining table where an assortment of delectable dishes is arranged.

"Thank you so much, Jaemin. I love you," you say, helping yourself to the food which your boyfriend had painstakingly prepared.

"Love you too".

Chenle:

"I failed".

The second he registers the text that appears on his phone, Chenle already knows that you wouldn't be feeling your best. Hence, he immediately sprang into action and headed out to buy some of your favourite snacks, hoping that they would cheer you up. He even tells Daegal to be extra nice to you because you weren't feeling happy.

The moment you open the door, Chenle is waiting for you with Daegal in his arms. "y/n, I'm sorry to hear what happened," he begins, taking your bag from you and sitting you down on the couch with Daegal, before rushing to grab the snacks that he'd bought earlier. "Okay, come, spill. Unless you'd rather not talk about it, which is fine too," Chenle says, thrusting the bags of snacks into your arms.

Tearing open one of the packets, you begin your rant. "I don't know. I don't even know how to feel," you start. "Like, I studied so hard for these exams only to fail? Okay then, if that's what I get. Life isn't fair, anyway," you conclude, mouth stuffed full of the snacks while you pet Daegal.

Chenle picks up on the resentment in your tone, and throws his arms around you, allowing you to lean on his shoulder. "I feel you. Remember when I was in my first year of junior college and I came so close to failing promos?" he reminds you.

"Yeah, you raged for weeks!" you reply, with a small laugh. "But I see why you were so mad – failing would have meant repeating the first year".

"Luckily my teachers found ways to help me pass. But what I'm saying is," he continues. "I get how you feel. I know it feels like your hard work has gone down the drain and that it wasn't fair. But hey – like you said, life isn't always fair. What matters most is how we bounce back from whatever life throws at us and come back stronger," he exhorts you, reaching over to steal some of the snacks. "And knowing you, you'll do that. After all, you're my y/n – the tough cookie I've known since secondary 1. I believe in you," he finishes as he pats you on the head.

You return his smile and continue to stroke Daegal, feeling thankful that you had such a supportive boyfriend who believed in you no matter what. "Thank you so much, Chenle. This isn't the only exam I have in life, I guess what matters now is how I tackle the next one".

"Yeah! That's my y/n!" Chenle cheers, ruffling your hair affectionately. "Rest up, and then go out there and crush the next exam!"

Jisung:

Receiving bad results and then having to stay behind in school for extracurricular activities really sucked – however, those were the circumstances you found yourself in. Luckily, as a student himself, Jisung understood that and was ready to comfort you as soon as you made your situation known.

"Seriously. All this hard work, and –" you whip out your report card and plonk it in front of your boyfriend. "I get this? Really? So all of whatever I did wasn't enough? Great. I swear, I can't do this no more. Maybe I should just fake sick and skip CCA- I don't even feel like going anymore".

"Woah, calm down y/n," Jisung begins. "These results are by no means an accurate reflection of how much effort you put in. I know you worked really hard, we were studying together. Sometimes, other factors come into play. For example, this round the teachers decided to pull a little sneaky on us and give us weird exam questions. Which is why the whole batch didn't do well either – they literally gave us questions none of us had any practice with!" he points out with a huff. It was true, the whole batch had done so badly that the principal had asked your batch to stay behind for a "batch meeting" – which ended up as more of a grill session on how your batch was "lazy" and "unmotivated".

"You're not wrong," you admit, calming down a little. "I mean, what was that biology essay question? God, I didn't understand any of it at all," you grumble. "Mr Jung still wants to believe that it's our fault, when really, it's the fault of the setter".

Jisung shakes his head and sighs, a small smile on his face. "I don't get how he thinks. But anyway, enough harping about this round of examinations – nothing you or I can do about it, after all. I think what's important is that you know you did your best. I don't know what you think, but I know for sure you did your best, and nothing can dispute that," he reassures, reaching across the table to hold your hand to comfort you.

"I sure did," you acknowledge, memories of the late nights spent mugging and endless consultations with teachers running through your head. "I guess this means I don't need to hold any regrets for this round of examinations. I did my best, and though the outcome wasn't satisfactory, it was out of my control".

"You're right," Jisung replies, drawing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. "Still, that feeling sucks, and you've still got CCA to deal with. I don't know if this would help, but what about we go for dinner together after our CCAs end? I can wait for you here," he suggests. "My treat".

The thought of being able to spend dinner with your boyfriend after CCA sure was lifting your spirits, and had you motivated to attend CCA as well. "Sure thing! Thank you so much, Jisung. I love you," you answer, smiling up at him.

Jisung returns your smile, and stands up to leave. "I love you too. I've got to go for dance now, so see you later, yeah?" he says.

"Sure, see you!"

Shotaro:

With bated breath, you open the envelope that contains your O-levels result slip. The O-levels were a most critical examination – how well you fared on them determined which post-secondary institution you would attend, or whether you'd have to repeat secondary 4 – every student's worst fear. Slowly pulling out the result slip, you take a glance at the paper and feel your heart sink – you hadn't scored well. Fortunately you wouldn't have to retain, but it still wasn't a good enough score to go to your dream junior college.

Curious about how your boyfriend Shotaro had fared, you turn to where you know he's sitting. You knew he'd done well as the principal had mentioned his name earlier in the list of top scorers in the school. Sure enough, there he is, eyes shining with happy tears as his friends congratulate him, and you decide to do the same. He really deserved it, having slogged away at assessment books and notes for the past two years since secondary 3.

"Shotaro! Congratulations," you announce excitedly, giving him a bear hug, which he promptly returns. "I'm so happy for you".

"Thank you so much. I really didn't expect that, all I hoped for was to do well enough to get into my dream polytechnic course," he answers, breaking away from the hug to wipe away his tears. "How about you? How is it?" he asks curiously.

"I…" you're at a loss for words. You were afraid you'd disappoint Shotaro since he had spent so much time tutoring you in the subjects you were weak at. "I know I kept saying I wanted to go to LBJC, but my score won't allow that. I can't even make it into any of my top 5 junior college choices," you whisper despondently and show him the result slip. "Taro, I'm sorry. You're probably disappointed, because you spent so much time teaching me-"

Before you can finish, you find yourself back in his bone-crushing hug as he shushes you. "No. Don't say that," he commands, stroking your hair comfortingly. "I'm not disappointed at all. You're still my y/n, after all. And though society makes this out to be an exam that holds your whole future, it really isn't. Not all is lost, y/n. There's so much more to life than just this one national exam. You can always pick yourself up again, and I'll always be here to love and support you. You're doing great, y/n. You really are," he consoles, rummaging in his bag and passing you a tissue packet as soon as he sees you begin to shed tears. "I love you. Always".

Accepting the tissue gratefully, you dab at your eyes. "I love you too, Taro. I'm really happy for you, and thank you for being there for me throughout the past 2 stressful years. I couldn't have done it without you".

"I'd say the same for myself," he answers confidently. "Thank you for being my pillar of support since secondary 3".

A few more minutes pass in silence, until Shotaro breaks it. "Let's go do something fun together? We've worked hard, and regardless of our results we deserve a break," he suggests. "We can think of places to go to together".

You break into a smile, liking the idea. "Of course!"

Sungchan:

The call connects, and the face of your boyfriend appears on the screen. "y/n!" he exclaims, doe eyes brightening as soon as he sees you.

"Sungchan! I've missed you," you answer honestly. He was overseas on vacation at the moment. "How's life been?"

Both of you carry on bantering over the call, talking about the recent events and happenings in your lives. It's mostly chill – up until Sungchan asks you this one question. "Oh yeah, you mentioned you had an exam recently? How did it go? I know you put your whole heart into the preparations," Sungchan inquires, genuinely interested to know.

The question he had just asked brought back an onslaught of emotions – first making you remember the initial shock at seeing the low scores on the papers, and then the searing pain of the sense of failure at having scored those low grades. "Sungchan, I scored badly. Even that's an understatement," you deadpan, not bothering to mince your words. "My grades were shit".

Immediately his brown eyes pool with guilt, sensing that his question had upset you. "Y/n, I'm so sorry to hear that…" he trails off, catching sight of tears falling out of your eyes. "I know you did your best. I know you did".

"Even then, it wasn't enough," you sob. "Maybe I could have done better".

"No, no, y/n, you really did give your best effort, I can tell," Sungchan refutes, waving his hands frantically. "I hope you know that you've done all you can, and that that knowledge is of any comfort to you. If that doesn't help, please know I'm so so proud of you, and it doesn't matter what grades you score. I just want you to do your best, that's all," he adds, garbling out words in an attempt to comfort you. After all, there was so much he could do from behind a computer screen. "I'm sorry I can't be there with you in person, so I'll send you a virtual hug," Sungchan decides, moving towards the screen and making a hugging motion with his arms. "There. Feel better?" he asks.

Your boyfriend's adorable antics successfully cheer you up a little, and with a laugh, you copy the motion that he'd made earlier. "Yeah, I do feel better. Thank you Sungchan. I love you".

"Love you too. Hey, tell you what – I'll buy you something nice from here. You absolutely deserve it," Sungchan promises. "I'm coming back in 3 days – look forward to it".

A laugh escapes you, and you begin to look forward to your boyfriend's surprise for you. More than that, you appreciated that even though he wasn't there with you in person, he made his love for you so evident that you could feel it so tangibly, even if you both were miles away from each other. "Sure thing!"

#nct-writers #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct au #nct x reader #nct angst #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct smut #nct x y/n

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aroaceconfessions · 4 years ago

Note

01/06/21

Today it's officially pride month!! I was originally very happy but then i saw this post. The post talks about the inclusion of hetero ace and aros in the lgbt+

Now, it's not the post that upset me but the replies. The more i scrolled through them the more aphobes i saw. I saw so many exclusionist it was unreal, completely ruined my mood that's for sure.

I'm not a hetero aroace but i still think their experiences with romance and sex repulsion and discrimination are just as real. They shouldn't have to prove that to anyone. It made me so sad, so damn sad that there were so many people saying that they aren't oppressed (as if this is the pain olympics).

But, by saying that, aren't they oppressing them? Exclusionists don't realize they are doing as much harm as the rest of the lgbt+phobes out there.

Idk, i just wanted to vent, also if you are a het aroace (or either just het aro or just het ace) reading this:

Happy Pride!

You are valid, your feelings and experiences are just as real, don't let them make you think you don't belong because you do!

#pride #aroace #aromantic #asexual #heteromantic #heterosexual #aphobia #invalidation

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flourchildwrites · 4 years ago

Text

“I want all my alchemists, current and former, to lay low for the time being while we reassess the State Alchemy program. I am here to ask what you want in return for your service and your discretion.”

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open. “Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“All we want is to go home, sir, to Resembool,” Alphonse answers. He smiles to lighten the mood; loose skin pulls around the corners of his grin. “And I’d also like to see a few friends. Maybe try some of the foods from my list before we leave Central."

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga

Relationships & Characters: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis, Gracia Hughes, Elicia Hughes, Grumman, Winry Rockbell, Pinako Rockbell

Genre: Character Study, Post-Promised Day, Recovery, Just Deserts

Trigger Warnings: Underweight Character

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,967 words (Complete)

A/N: I'm incredibly excited to share the fic I wrote for @fmacookbookzine, Tastes of Amestris! Most of the desserts mentioned in the story have recipes in the cookbook. I owe a special thanks to the zine moderator as well as my betas, Tas and @vino-and-doggos. I appreciate kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes, and reblogs if you feel so inclined.

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The repair becomes part of the object’s history and enhances its beauty.

...

There is a plate in the china cabinet of Pinako’s kitchen that Alphonse likes best. It looks the same as the others with pale pink vines looping along the fluted rim. Yet, this particular piece is set apart from the rest. Once cracked in half, Alphonse’s favorite plate has a vein of gold that binds the fractured parts together.

He was there when it happened on Winry’s sixth birthday. Ms. Sarah assembled an unorthodox birthday dessert in honor of the occasion, an elegant presentation of fresh berries, whipped cream, and puffs of baked meringue. The final touch was a pinch of mint, and once combined, Winry gazed excitedly at her mother’s handiwork stacked atop the fine china. In her wonder, the child’s footing faltered.

All told, it was an everyday accident that had Pinako tutting softly under her breath as she picked up the pieces; however, precious little went to waste in the Rockbell household—a place where broken things (and sometimes people) came to be restored. With the conscience of a healer and the precision of a surgeon, Granny carefully glued the jagged edges together with golden lacquer. Raised lines stuck out along the break and dried, leaving the piece even more beautiful for the story it had to tell.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, his face also tells a story. Though, he thinks that it is not a tale the hospital staff wants to hear. They are thankful for the large red letters that read ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamped across his medical chart. They look away from the sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks that stare back at Alphonse from the mirror Sig is holding for him. Each time Alphonse sees himself, he half expects to confront a gunmetal helmet with half-moon holes glowing red and horizontal vents instead of gutting cheekbones. The reality is disorienting but not unwelcome.

Like the metallic bond holding together his favorite plate, Alphonse likes the way his golden eyes gleam with the satisfaction of seeing his and Edward’s bodies restored. All except for his brother’s leg, and perhaps Edward does not regret that loss. It was a price paid-in-full for the people the Elric brothers helped and the lesson they learned, albeit the hard way.

Alphonse’s fingers tremble as he grasps the razor. He glances up from the mirror to the burly bear of a man holding it. “Press the razor to your face and gently pull upward,” Sig kindly instructs. “Let it do the work for you.”

The young man nods and does as instructed, ready to savor the task of shaving for the first time with the most patient person as his teacher. Alphonse takes his first pull of the razor, and it glides across his upper lip with little resistance until, at the very end, his hand trembles again.

He feels a sharp sensation, and while examining his visage in the mirror, Alphonse notices a red mark above the corner of his mouth mingled with traces of shaving cream. Sig holds out a handkerchief.

“You should have seen my first attempt. You did well,” Sig says with a pleasant grin.

A warmth fills Alphonse’s hospital room, crammed with four people who function as a family, just as they did back in Dublith. Edward reclines on the bed next to his brother with his arms stretched lazily behind his trademark braid. Izumi watches the exchange between her husband and Alphonse with a small smile, barely keeping up the pretense of reading her recipe book. She keeps her vigil at Alphonse and Ed’s bedside despite her injuries.

There’s a staccato series of knocks on the door. Between the abrupt sound and the sudden appearance of an officer drenched in Amestrian blue, the spell of domesticity is broken. It is replaced by a colder reality: Ed and Alphonse Elric are being kept by the military. They remain unsure who is being protected from whom and to what end.

Their guard straightens up. A sheen of sweat collects on his brows and the collar of his woolen uniform. His voice is strained as he pulls up into a rigid salute to address Ed. The Fullmetal Alchemist cocks his brow incredulously at the formal display.

“Sorry to intrude, Major Elric,” the officer finally announces, “Mr. Alphonse Elric. You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Ed parrots; a sharp remark is already on the tip of his pitchy tongue. “If it’s that Colonel Bastard, again, you can tell him-”

“It’s not Colonel Mustang,” the officer interrupts. “It’s Genera- I mean Führer Grumman.”

The collective attention of the room turns as a shorter, older man emerges from behind the guard. He moves slowly and smiles through his thick, white mustache. The deep blue of his immaculate uniform contrasts the faded fabric of the lower-ranking officer ahead of him. Service ribbons in every color weigh down the left side of the gentleman’s long jacket.

“Acting Führer,” he corrects with adroit, disarming syntax. “But then, we’re all friends here. Who cares about a little thing like formalities?”

...

Alphonse scratches at his freshly shaven upper lip as the usual introductions are observed. It seems that Ed will be doing the talking, and with that in mind, Alphonse expects a brief visit. Nevertheless, Grumman paves the way for pleasantries as well as business. Not five minutes into the discussion, Alphonse realizes that the new acting Führer speaks with authority.

It would be wise, Alphonse decides, to listen carefully.

When Führer Grumman asks Izumi and Sig to step out for an afternoon cup of tea, the request is not a suggestion. The strong-willed teacher rises with the help of her husband, and the couple leaves begrudgingly. Alphonse grins sympathetically at them as they exit. It bolsters his confidence when Izumi returns his smile with an assertive nod.

Grumman does not hesitate to fill the seat their teacher vacated. Gravity bears down on Alphonse’s frail shoulders, but he sits as tall as he can.

“The way I hear it, you boys saved the day,” the Führer proclaims, flashing a set of pearly whites. “I’d say my government owes you both a debt of gratitude.”

With all the rough-edged diplomacy he can muster, Ed responds. “Yeah, well, we didn’t do it for the government, old man. And I’m done being a dog of the military. Whatever plans you’ve got in mind, count us out.”

The Führer’s reaction is nearly nonexistent. Instead, he leans against the hardback of the chair and immediately winces.

“Dreadfully uncomfortable,” he announces, shifting forward. Grumman waves a hand to draw the guard in closer. “Be a helpful lad. See that Mrs. Curtis is given more comfortable seating.”

The young officer scurries off, closing the door behind him, and the older gentleman turns his attention toward Alphonse.

“Oh, I understand perfectly. The military will ask nothing further of you if that’s what you want,” he replies. “But the situation we find ourselves in is unusual—a conspiracy in the upper echelons of the government, a nation-wide episode of unconsciousness, the condition of Alphonse’s body, and the inexplicable connection it all has to alchemy. These are the sort of concerns that fuel the rumor mill.”

The older gentleman pauses, idly twisting the ends of his mustache between his fingers as he divulges the political landscape of Amestris.

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open.

“Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“Your list?” the Führer asks.

“It was in a book he used to keep,” Ed explains. His tone softens, as it always does when he speaks of his brother. “It listed foods he wanted to try when he was inside... Anyway, I think we lost it.”

“I see.”

Grumman’s response is curt. With a final flourish, the old man straightens his cap and rises from the chair. It seems that he’s heard all he needs to hear.

“I’m going to keep an eye on you boys,” he concludes. “Just the one, mind you, for whatever that’s worth. It’s a fine idea for you both to return to Resembool. Recuperate and rest, and when you figure out what you’d like to do with your time, give me a call.”

The old man produces an ivory card from the pocket of his uniform; a phone number is scribbled on the front. The card itself is an innocuous thing, but the peace offering reeks of political maneuvering. Ed frowns as Führer Grumman places the card on the small table between the brothers’ beds. Alphonse is torn, equal parts intrigued and wary of the strings attached to this phone number.

“The good people here tell me that Alphonse will be ready to travel in four months,” Grumman continues. “In the meantime, I’ll see that you are allowed visitors and suitable food that Alphonse would like to become reacquainted with.”

Alphonse focuses on the task at hand. He thinks of the timeline and of the way Edward approached his recovery from the automail installation. A determined glint ignites in his golden eyes, almost glossy with the lacquer of conviction. Alphonse is weak, but his spirit remains tireless.

“I’ll do it in two,” he says.

Edward, only too happy to put the politics of Central City behind them, nods in agreement.

...

A month’s time sees Alphonse with his hair clipped short; his once sunken cheeks have regained some fullness. Edward, Sig, and Izumi have long since been discharged, but they take turns keeping Alphonse company from the spare couch of his hospital room. Just like Führer Grumman promised, it’s more comfortable than the standard chairs, but that doesn’t mean Alphonse is content to linger.

Now more than ever, he’s determined to go home, walking unassisted down Resembool’s roads. However, for the moment, it’s all Alphonse can do to steady his awkward gait by digging his toes into mats and bracing his arms against the parallel bars. He thinks something as simple as walking should come easily; his legs have other ideas. Another fall brings his physical therapy to an end for the day, and Alphonse returns to his hospital room.

He takes the bumps and bruises in stride. He makes it a point to smile at the staff even when their treatments bring him pain alongside progress. From the confines of a wheelchair, Alphonse greets his guard—a man called Doug who likes comic books and whistles to fill the silence. Doug never pries and is quick to look the other way when Ed overstays his official welcome.

“Ready for more visitors?” Doug asks.

Alphonse’s face lights up with anticipation, and he cranes his neck to peer around the doorframe. Tawny brown hair and emerald eyes fill his field of vision as the small body of a precocious child lunges toward him. She nearly jumps into his lap before her mother pulls her back while balancing a covered plate with one arm.

“Elicia! Ms. Gracia!” Alphonse greets. Recognition washes over both visitors' faces at the sound of Alphonse’s voice.

“So that’s what you look like,” Elicia observes. She giggles madly, rocking back and forth from heel to toe.

Alphonse is quick to change the subject; he also refuses to think about the way Elicia’s gregarious nature reminds him of a certain someone.

The visit is pleasant and predictable. Gracia frets about his weight and serves him a double portion of adorable pudding domes that mother and daughter whipped up for the visit. The vanilla concoctions are cleverly molded into cat-shaped faces, painted with slanting eyes and curving mouths. Soft and creamy with a hint of coffee, they are as sweet as Elicia.

Between the confection and the company, Alphone passes an hour or more catching up on life and letting the child bounce between the walls of his hospital room. When mother and daughter depart (with promises to return with quiche), the silence feels harder to swallow. Alphonse cannot help but think of Winry and Pinako, of apple pie and strong coffee mixed with the smell of automail oil.

He wants, more than anything, to go home.

...

The doctors are surprised when Alphonse meets his deadline; Ed, ever faithful, is not. Alphonse leaves Central City General with his head held high and only stops to rest when the hospital is out of sight. His senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of a starched collar against the back of his neck, the pull of a new vest across his chest, and the weight of Grumman’s card in his pocket.

Alphonse follows Ed’s lead through neat cobblestone roads that feel familiar and yet entirely different, steeped in a tactile reality that he can touch, feel, and taste. Thick exhaust from passing cars sticks to the back of his throat on their way to the train station. Yet, the stench is suddenly replaced by delicious aromas wafting from a nearby café.

His rumbling stomach is drawn to a wide store window where rounds of raspberry mousse cake sit proudly on display. Chilled pink and green tinted layers sit beneath a tempting red glaze that appears sticky, smooth, and oh-so delectable. Alphonse imagines that the confection tastes tart and tangy with notes of brandy and pistachios. He wants to charge into the cafe and order every morsel that’s for sale, but his brother has other ideas.

“Better get going,” Ed says, throwing an arm around Alphonse’s shoulders to steer him away from temptation. “We’ve got a train to catch. You’ve been waiting a long time for what Winry’s whipping up.”

Reluctantly, Alphonse tears himself away from the sight but not before committing the name of the confection and the café to memory. He leaves Central swearing that, when the time is right, he’ll be back.

...

Their return isn’t quite as Alphonse imagined. There’s no hero’s welcome; only a few nods of recognition are offered as they make their way down Resembool’s country roads. But as soon as Alphonse sees the Rockbell residence, a place that marks their journey’s end, accolades don’t matter.

Edward offers to carry him, and Alphonse refuses, bracing himself against his walking stick instead. With gratitude, he thinks of the people that have propelled the brothers along their quest—especially the travelers from Xing. He hopes that they, too, made it home.

And in the blink of an eye, their dream is realized. Den pounces upon Alphonse, recognizing him despite the amount of time that has passed. Winry isn’t far behind. She tackles the brothers to the ground and wraps her arms around them. The trio is a mess of blonde hair and tears of joy.

“Dummies, welcome home!” she exclaims, and for now, Alphonse is inclined to believe this is where he belongs. In this home and amongst these people, he intends to reconcile the pieces of himself while his appetite for the sweet things in life returns.

Winry serves him her famed apple pie on the pink porcelain plate, its halves still bound together by golden lacquer. It’s wonderful and not just because of the flaky crust that crumbles under his fork or the cinnamon sweetness of the soft apples. It’s wonderful because, for the first time in a long time, Alphonse is precisely where he wants to be.

...

Many apple pies are shared around Pinako’s dinner table. There are also birthday cakes for Alphonse (two to be exact) and pans of bread pudding served with blueberries and vanilla sauce. He eats and laughs and grows stronger by the day.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, he still likes what he sees, and the girls in town tend to agree. His favorite white-collar shirts hint at the toned torso hiding beneath, and his square jaw exudes newfound confidence. Yet, his ambition to make their world a better place remains the same—too loud for a quiet country backdrop.

Alphonse realizes that the path he is meant to walk extends much farther. His studies, inspired by the prospect of adventure and letters from a feisty alkahestress, resonate with the Dragon’s Pulse. Finally, Alphonse is compelled to dial the number scribbled on the back of the old ivory card and is delighted when he’s connected to the nation’s most powerful man straightaway.

“Had your fill of Resembool yet, son?” Führer Grumman asks. “Are you ready to add to that list of yours?”

“Funny you should bring up my list,” Alphonse retorts, more than willing to play Grumman’s game of allusion. “There’s this Xingese dessert that Princess Mei Chang goes on about in her letters, a red bean soup. It would be a shame if I never tried it, don’t you think?”

Grumman chuckles. “Suppose you could use some diplomatic credentials for the trip. Try not to cause an international incident until Mustang takes over.”

The golden glint in Alphonse’s eyes makes no guarantees. His well-mannered innocence is tempered by past mistakes and fused with a gunmetal resolve.

“I can’t make any promises,” he replies.

#fma #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #alphonse elric #edward elric #grumman #character study #post-promised day #just deserts #kintsugi #flourchildwrites #and uses Oxford commas

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savrenim · 3 years ago

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hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

#my life #my writing #ifmlam

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atl4ntxc · 3 years ago

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i always get E in math with science ;-;

yeah, he's cool but my online friend had to just ruined the mood :(

( and sorry for rant here- tell me if you feel uncomfortable )

i just posted a status (WhatsApp) about him and she decided to reply that he's like older than us and already flirting with the student (my class) like he's not actually flirting and already said he's a walking red flag? i'm sorry but that's just called disrespectful, i mean you just know him once from my WhatsApp status not actually met him.

i'm so upset about it, if it's jokingly flirt then i don't mind but don't go too far, he is not flirting actually, he's just joking and she had the audacity to said that. leave him alone man 😭.

i hate when people decided to ruin my mood 👽 she even talk about herself when i, myself venting in the status 😟

- Bee is disappointed on that person

Ahh no!! Im cool with rants, if anyone is reading this rn and wants to vent, im up for it. If youre uncomfy, make sure to go anonymous (:

What lmao

Did she just assume? Thats embarrassing bestie 😭

Exactly, he seems like a nice guy. It's extremely disrespectful to assume on how someone acts from just from a single post. And no, youre the walking red flag babe 😍❤

Leave the poor man alone pls

#—kashi interacts #—bee anon

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kagejima · 2 years ago

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Hi! You are very considerate to come up with this idea of venting as a reader/writer. And thank you so much for helping me say the stuff I would normally not say in my blog. I just hope this vent does not ruin your mood

Oftentimes I see big blogs on here subposting stuff about xreader tags or some sort of fic formats. And sometimes even about how short fics are nowadays. And it sort of hurts me a lot cuz these are people I look up to and aspire to write like but then they go and make such degrading posts and I can't help but wonder if they are talking about my fics or something u can't help it, being new comes with the additional baggage of insecurities but then if they want newbies to disappear where are they supposed to go? twitter? reddit? instagram? wattpad? let's not talk abt how they roast wattpad writers

I mean it's not that hard to tolerate bad writing right? It's just like how they have in their pinned posts- 'scroll the fuck away no need to put a show' People better themselves with practice. Can't this place become more tolerant to newbies and show some fucking support? Heck if they are this annoyed then what about instead of ranting and subposting stuff they come up with their own tagging system and make it universal or something? But then it all comes down to free will. There will always be bad fics where there are new writers. We learn with exposure and if lucky, feedback.

Lmao this tirade makes me sound like an insecure fuck I'm really not trust me but it just feels so bad when your ideals slap you like that. That makes me wonder if we could yk look at it like a teacher slapping a student. Question is if the underlying intentions are good or if they just don't care which writer's motivation they are killing. I dont even wanna type it cuz it makes me so pukish just thinking abt it I'm sorry I guess it also comes down to who you are as a human.

I just idk I think I just want people to stop being hostile? And maybe make kindness a habit? Yk there's a difference between mean and cool. Don't be so prickly about stuff that doesn't matter to your real life or something like that. I'll stop before I work myself up again and Omg this became longer than I imagined I'm so sorry if this is ruining your mood but I'm also grateful to you for opening such a considerate event. Thank you, and take care xoxo

I am monitoring a discussion this weekend between writers and readers about low interaction and frustrations. Please read the rules before submitting something.

Just as a reminder, if you wish to reply to someone's message, do not comment on it with your own handle. Instead, please link it in an anonymous reply of your own. If you do not know how to do this, I can walk you through it.

#🎶: here comes the queue #📣: interaction discussion #🎤: anonymous writer

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the-travelling-witch · 3 years ago

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hi so uhm; i'm just here to vent, and you might find swearing, verbal abuse, talk of depression, and other possibly triggering topics in here. this is your warning!! you can totally just skip over this btw, you don't need to put yourself through the misery of reading through this whole thing.

so lately my life has felt like crap. my mom has self diagnosed herself with depression, but it feels more like pent up frustration. instead of the mom i feel like i knew, she's turned into... something i don't know anymore. she's insulted me, my dad, and my brother (who's her favorite child, by the way) countless times. to set an example of what she says, it goes along the lines of: "rabid dog," "computer addict," "when your dad dies, you'll become a beggar," among others (i'm trying to translate from chinese, which isn't great bcs... well im not 100% fluent in it, even if i can speak it lol). and to top it all off, she says what essentially means that i have a resting bitch face and never smile at home [what is there to smile about when all that ever happens at home is arguments and unhappy things??] and fatshames me. i know, i know, it sounds like a lot to drop but i guess its my own fault for not paying attention when she did these sorts of things in the past.

i'm just curious, is it bad to want some verbal affirmation that you aren't crap, or a piece of shit? is it bad to want a shoulder to cry on, a person to comfort you? because my mom and grandma used to fill those roles, but now my mom is the cause of my emotions and my grandma is, well, in china. and i can't show emotions anymore. at least, when your home feels like a war-zone. sorry about venting so much in your askbox aha, i just needed to get some feelings out

hi there, i’m so sorry you have to go through this and i hope my reply isn’t too late but i wanted to take my time answering this; feel free to read or skip however much of this as makes you comfortable ♡

i’ll be sharing some of my thoughts and experiences under the cut, so again, to everyone who might feel uncomfortable or triggered by this topic, this might not be the post for you

since you said you just needed to vent and because i don’t know enough about your family, circumstances or even culture to give valuable advice and don’t want to risk saying something offensive or harmful, i won’t; but know that i’ve read everything you trusted me with and i’m here to listen and support you

as someone who has spent the majority of the last decade fighting with her mom on the daily, i can feel your pain even if our situations aren’t necessarily the same; she’d come home stressed from work and i would take every comment or sigh personal, which led to lots of passive-aggressive fights and slamming doors; i’d get in a bad mood the second i’d hear her car pull into the driveway and this was also the time i’d cry almost every day, from stress or guilt i don’t know, and i bottled all of those feelings up and never told anyone, even though i just wanted to be comforted

so, let me say this, you’re never wrong for wanting someone to confide in or someone to comfort you, especially when the place you should feel at home in has become a source of stress for you; for me, what was hardest about this was, having the person that has loved me so dearly all my life and has always been a safe space become the person i want to be ‘protected’ from; the fact that this isn’t black or white and that both sentiments can coexist at the same time and are both valid took a while to process

nowadays, we’ve finally stopped being at each other’s throat all the time and yes, i can find comfort with my mom again, but this doesn’t mean everything is sunshine and rainbows; she’ll still come home with a passive-aggressive attitude sometimes and i’ll still take it to heart, however, it’s considerably less common than before and doesn’t result in a full-blown family fight every evening

i’m not sure if reading about my experience has made you feel less alone or was helpful in any other way but i really want to tell you how strong you are; i know it might not feel like that to you but i assure you it’s true

i always thought i had to shoulder everything on my own because i didn’t want to burden anyone with my troubles or because i didn’t want to appear as weak but i was so wrong about that

also, it’s absolutely not your fault for not noticing! when living with someone and seeing them every day, noticing gradual changes is extremely difficult and you can’t blame yourself for someone else’s behaviour, even if it might be harsh to hear

if your family can’t provide the support you need, look outside your own home; for me, my best friend was the first person i confided in because i trust her with more of my personal life than my family and that’s okay; i can almost guarantee that if you reach out, your friends won’t dismiss you and they’ll gladly help you or give you positive affirmation

however, if this seems like something you’re not quite ready for yet (again, this is a very personal topic, so nobody can blame you or force you to open up about it), you can always come talk to me, even if i’m only a stranger on the internet (maybe that’s exactly the kind of distance you need) ♡

for the fact that i didn’t want to give any advice, i’ve been rambling a whole lot, i apologise for that; i hope i could help at least a little bit or make you feel like your not alone in this ♡

#coffee & tea break #letter from: a mysterious sender ❁#again you’re so strong nonnie #and your feelings are valid <3 #don’t let anyone tell you otherwise

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