#cuz my anxiety is sky high

[mumble-muse]

putting my go-getting hat on today and hating every second of it

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

I hope y’all like my OC’s!! I picked them cuz theyre both very connected to "seafoam" and "stardust"

For those who dont have an account on the artfight but are still interested in my oc’s, I’ve provided the description that i gave them on their pages under the cut off :)

Koko:

Overview:

Koko is a very mischievous young man who loves the island he lives on and all the people in it. Which is why he must prank everyone, no one is safe from his jokes, gaffs, and goofs. He works as a defender of his island against pirates looking to invade it, and primarily uses a shield as his weapon. He boasts about never getting a scar from any of his battles Except That One Time. He is Pansexual/Demiromantic, half blind, and his personality type is esfp.

He is based off of the turtle nebula which is located in the constellation, Hercules. As such he is designed to be very large, muscular, and fearsome.

He lives on the West Island of the Archipelago that makes up his country. The cluster of five isles is in the shape of a flower ✿ like this. 

Mannerisms/Way of life:

-He loves helping people. He finds when he helps others, he helps himself.

-he has a very deep connection with the moon and often talks to it at night. He relates it to feeling like he's talking to a great great grandmother of his.

-he likes to keep his community lively and happy, that's why Koko pranks people every so often. Gotta keep em on their toes

-he wants to make his friends happy, so if they're sad, sometimes he doesn't realize that sometimes people need to be in their sad feelings and often tries to cheer them up when it's not wanted.

-He loves going out fishing with Mueta at night. To get Mueta to go with him to fish, he likes to call it "the night lookout" so that Mueta doesn't feel anxious about taking so much time off. The workaholic.

-Likes bragging about how back in the day, He and Mueta were the best sailors on their island, and they would've taken first prize at the All-Island competition, if the dirty cheaters from the south-east isle hadn't cheated dirty.

Where His Heart Lies: 

Koko has a very. very. embarrassing. and obvious. crush on Mueta. Everything Mueta feels, he feels himself. One of the reasons he wants to keep everyone happy is that maybe if everyone around Mueta feels safe and cared for, maybe Mueta will too one day. His love is not urgent however. He never thought to keep track of how long he's loved Mueta. Koko would wait forever for him.

Mueta:

Koko and Mueta were raised very close to each other due to their parents all being friends. He thinks of Mueta's younger brother, Barce, as his own.

One day when Mueta's parents never came back from a battle on an invading pirate ship, Koko's returning parents immediately took Mueta and Barce in until the eldest turned 18 and moved out with his brother.

——————————

Mueta:

Overview:

Mueta is a very diligent Defender of his island and is trying to become the Captain of the defense force of his island. Ever since the old one passed in battle, the island has been out of sorts which makes him very angry. That makes him angry, the slowness of the counsel who chooses the next Captain makes him angry, their unwillingness to make him Captain makes him angry. Everything that is happening is always making him angry. Which is probably why he isn't the Leader yet. 

Mueta has anger and anxiety issues, doesn't have time for romance or anything of the sort and his personality type is ISTJ.

Mueta is based off of the Jellyfish Nebula. His name is based off of the nebula's position, between eta geminorum and ma geminorum, and I just mashed "eta" and "mu” together for Mueta!

He lives on the West Island of the Archipelago that makes up his country. The cluster of five isles is in the shape of a flower ✿ like this. 

Mannerisms/Way of Life:

-Mueta gets hella mad when people don't meet his expectations that he always sets sky high. The only person that meets his expectations every time is his little brother, Barce. Koko doesn't always meet his expectations, but he doesn't get too overly mad at him about it. Koko understands Mueta's expectations, but unlike everyone else, he's not afraid to tell Mueta that what he expects of him is too much, because koko is the only person who Mueta will adjust for.

-His high expectations are not just for other people, they're for objects as well. He has a dedicated window for throwing shit out of. Barce is never too happy when he has to get out of his house and walk down a hill to get any forks though.

-He's never physical with his punishments. at least not with people. He has a very good understanding of his strength and keeps a constant watch on himself. A few trees have been taken down from time to time if he's feeling particularly hot headed.

-Mueta's fighting style is very Getting-Up-Close-And-Personal. He tries to get people to fall before he takes his sharktooth knife out to finish the job.

-He is very very very very very very dedicated to his island. He hardly takes any time off, which leads Koko to kidnap him sometimes.

-Mueta likes to embroider things when he keeps watch.

-His favorite food is shrimp, but often he forgets to eat.

-He loves his little brother very much and really is the only loving outlet he lets himself have. He dotes on Barce very heavily, much to the younger's dismay.

Where His Heart Lies:

Ever since his Parents passed, he's desperately needed to create an island that can be safe for his beloved little brother. It's no secret he loves Barce, but underneath it, his love is very deeply seated in his own self worth.

Koko:

Koko and Mueta were raised very close to each other due to their parents all being friends. Koko's parents took him and his little brother in when he was Orphaned and he feels he can never repay them enough. Koko means a great deal to him even if he barely has time for him anymore.

[rrat-king]

Doing…. Research before I post all of my fanfics!!

Can I get Character Ask 22 for Adaine and Fabian???

Also 26, tell me your favorite underrated Adaine scene, because she’s my darling girl and I love her

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like?

for adaine: love a sassy adaine. love a bitchy teenager. i love torturing the blorbos and all that but geniunly i love reading happy, playful adaine just cuz she's been through so much (even though i also torture her too). i love people exploring her relationship with jawbone and also aelwyn and what it looks like for her to like grow and find herself. for things i don't like, somtimes i feel like people make her primary thing being anxious, and while i get that she is, she is also like very cool and smart and someone who takes risks and calls people out so it's nice to see her be more than her anxiety.

for fabian: i love love when people go into his parent/insane legacy stuff and also esp with junior year the fact that he is this huge charisma super popular kid but he deeply loves his friends and does everything for them. just love the facade and the breaking of the facade. with that said i guess if there is one thing i dont like its when people write fabian so aloof that he doesn't care or is like detached. like no!! he loves his friend's guys!!!

26. FREEBIE aka underrated adaine scene:

i love love love adaine in calethriel tower. i think it is so interesting to see her interact with high elves especially when you compare it to how she interacts with her parents in season one just!!! she is fighting back, she is giving them shit from inside her orb, she is calling her principle to rip the sun out of the sky!!! i also just love the way her and aelwyn interact so thats a cool scene of her talking to a more vulnerable version of her sister we seldom get to see.

[ryatt-stories]

First romance novel!!!

Winds of Love

A story of an escape, where the winds of freedom guide a black runway slave girl into the arms of a Native American warrior, who shows her the true meaning of freedom and love.

Chapter 1 - The Escape 

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale, eerie light through the dense canopy of trees. Shadows danced ominously across the forest floor as a girl tore through the underbrush, her breath ragged and her heart pounding in her chest. Her clothes were tattered, torn by branches and vines that had clawed at her as she fled, and her skin was slick with sweat despite the cool night air.

"I have to keep running," she gasped, her lungs burning as if they were on fire. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to stop, to rest, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet.

The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, the trees towering swaying in the wind while rustling leaves and whispering wind weave the desire of freedom. She could feel the suffocating bite of fear in her chest, a relentless pressure that only grew with every step. Her eyes darted around wildly, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement, any hint that they were close. "I can't let them find me," she thought, the words echoing in her mind, driving her forward.

A sudden gunshot and voice cut through the night, harsh and angry. "Where in the hell is she?" a man shouted, his words carried on the wind. The sound sent a fresh surge of panic through her, and she pushed herself to run faster.

"They're close," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own labored breathing. "I have to hide, they'll find me, if I keep running."

Her mind raced, searching desperately for a solution, and then she saw it—a narrow path realizing their horses would have a difficult time following. Without hesitation, she darted toward it, hoping it would lead her to safety. But her foot caught on something unseen, and with a startled yelp, she was suddenly falling, the ground giving way beneath her.

She tumbled into a deep hole, the world spinning around her as she fell. The descent seemed to last forever, and then, with a bone-jarring thud, she hit the bottom. Darkness closed in around her as she lay there, her body aching, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The forest above was silent once more, the sounds of pursuit fading into the distance.

But she knew they were still out there, searching. And she knew she wasn't safe yet.

A few hours before the harrowing chase through the woods, the sun filtered through the large windows of a sprawling plantation house. “Hurry up, girl! I have places to be!” Clementine scorned, her voice sharp and impatient.

“Yes, Miss Clementine,” the girl replied, her gaze downcast as she worked. She pulled the ribbons tighter, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety in her stomach. “I’m done, ma’am,” she said softly, her heart sinking at the disdain in Clementine’s voice.

“Finally,” Clementine rolled her eyes before sweeping out of the room, leaving the slave girl trailing a few feet behind her, the weight of the day’s tasks already bearing down on her.

Slave Girl’s POV

My name is Blaire—that’s the name given to me when I was brought to this foreign land five years ago. My family and I were ripped apart when we got off the ship. After we arrived, a white man dragged me away from them and put me with a group of young girls, all of us crying, and screaming for our momma. We were taken to a place where those who didn’t share our skin color picked us apart with their eyes, evaluating us as if we were animals. I remember that same man who had yanked me from my family bringing me before a crowd. He told me “smile, cuz one of them would be my, Mas’r”. 

I looked out at the crowd, and a few people approached me, inspecting my hair, teeth, and body, their gazes filled with a sense of ownership that made me feel small and dirty. One man, accompanied by his wife and a boy who looked to be a few years older than me, stepped forward. The woman’s expression shifted to one of approval, and I felt a chill run down my spine as the man exchanged something with another white man before grasping my arm and pulling me away.

I was no longer the little girl I once was. The innocence of childhood had been replaced by the harsh realities of life as Mr and Mrs.Chester’s house slave. The demands of the household kept me constantly on my feet, working from dawn until dusk.

One particularly grueling afternoon, I found myself in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for supper. The sun poured through the small window, but the heat inside felt suffocating. My fingers moved mechanically, the knife slipping through the soft flesh of the potatoes as my mind wandered to a time before my world had shrunk to this kitchen and the whims of the Chesters.

“Blaire!” Mrs. Chester called, her voice cutting through my struggle to remember my family. “Hurry up! The guests will be here any moment!”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, my heart sinking as I picked up my pace. I couldn’t afford to show any weakness; I had learned that long ago.

As I finished preparing the vegetables, I glanced toward the dining room, where the sound of laughter and clinking glasses drifted in. I wiped my hands on my apron and hurried to the dining room, setting the dishes on the long table adorned with fine china and glittering silverware.

Among the guests was Austin, the Chesters son. Austin took a twisted liking to me early on, his attention unsettling even when we were young. One of his first games was teaching me how to read and write in secret. It seemed innocent at first, a rare kindness in a world full of cruelty. But I soon realized it was just another way for him to exert control over me.

As the years passed, Austin would often slip notes into my hand, his eyes gleaming with something dark and unspoken. I’d try to return them, saying, “I can’t read them, sir.” He’d pretend disappointment, a frown creasing his face as if he was displeased with my supposed ignorance.

“Then I must read it to you,” he would say, his voice low and deliberate, the words heavy with hidden meaning. He’d lean in close, his breath hot against my ear, and read aloud what he had written—sweet words twisted by the undercurrent of his intentions.

When he finished, he would look at me with that familiar grin, the one that made my skin crawl. “Do you understand?” he’d ask, his tone dripping with suggestion.

I understood all too well. His notes were never just words; they were his way of telling me what he wanted without saying it outright. He never asked directly, but the meaning was clear—he expected me to give in to his desires, to submit to him in ways that made my stomach turn.

Each time, I’d force myself to nod, hating the way I had to play along, hating the power he held over me. He’d smile then, satisfied, and let his hand linger on mine just a moment too long before pulling away. It was a game to him, a cruel manipulation that left me feeling more trapped than ever.

“Come here Blaire!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with arrogance as he gestured toward me with a smirk. His friends laughed, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I forced a smile, feeling the weight of their eyes on me.

“Aren’t you a lucky one?” one of his friends teased. “Having such a beautiful slave at your beck and call.”

Austin stepped closer, his tone playful but edged with something darker. “She’s my favorite, after all,” he declared, his hand brushing against my back and waist. I stiffened, every instinct screaming at me to step back, but I knew better, knowing that would strengthen Austin's desire.

His fingers lingered too long, and I fought the urge to recoil. “I love having you around,” he continued, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “You know I treat you well, don’t you, Blaire?”

I nodded, my throat tight. “Yes, massa,” I replied, forcing the words out despite the turmoil inside me. I knew he thought his claims of love meant something, but I understood that it was nothing more than a possessive assertion. 

As the evening wore on, I moved through the room, filling glasses and serving dishes, each encounter a reminder of my place. Austin continued to make a spectacle of me, his hand never straying far from me, a constant reminder of his claim.

“I’ll take care of you, Blaire,” he said quietly when we were momentarily alone, a sinister smile curling on his lips. “You’ll always have a place here.”

Now, at the age of twenty, the plantation was a quieter place now, steeped in sorrow and the echoes of lives once lived. But the quietness only magnified the dread that had taken root in my heart.  After Mrs. Chester had passed away a year ago, her heart shattered by the tragic hunting accident that claimed Mr. Chester., Austin, had become the new master of the plantation, and his power over me had grown more oppressive.

Today was a particularly busy day. Clementine, now Mrs. Chester was hosting a grand spring dinner, and the entire household was in a frenzy to prepare. The other slaves and I had been up since dawn, cleaning, cooking, and arranging the house. The air was thick with the scent of fresh flowers and roasted meats, mingling with the sweat of our labor.

“Blaire, make sure those centerpieces are perfect!” Mrs. Clementine’s sharp voice cut through the noise as I hurried to arrange the bouquets of lilacs on the long dining table. The flowers were beautiful, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the darkness I felt within. I carefully adjusted the petals, making sure each arrangement was perfect, knowing that the slightest flaw would earn me a scolding.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, keeping my head down, my hands trembling slightly as I worked.

Mrs. Clementine was a striking woman, her beauty undeniable, but there was a chill in her gaze that matched the cruelty of her husband. She moved through the house with an air of superiority, her sharp eyes catching every flaw. Since their marriage, it has become painfully clear that my very presence is intolerable to Mrs. Clementine. Despite the fact that I’ve been the property of the Chester family since I was a child.

Though Mr. Austin has never openly punished me, nor has he allowed anyone else to lay a hand on me, this has only fueled Mrs. Clementine’s rage. Jealousy and hatred festered in her, directed at me, a black slave girl she believes insults her merely by existing. In her eyes, I was no different than the animals on the plantation—cattle to be used, or pigs and dogs to be whipped if they stepped out of line.

If Mrs. Clementine had her way, I would have been flogged long ago, her anger soothed by the sight of my suffering. But she knew too well the consequences of such an act. The terrible retribution that would follow from her husband, who, for reasons she couldn’t comprehend, protected me from the harsher punishments that befell others. This protection, however, only deepened her hatred, leaving her seething in her cold, silent fury.

As I finished setting the table, the door to the dining room swung open, and Mr. Austin strode in, a smug smile on his face. He looked around, nodding in approval before his gaze landed on me. I could feel his eyes on me, the weight of his stare like a physical touch.

“Everything looks perfect, Clementine,” he said, his voice dripping with a condescending tone. “You’ve always been good at making things beautiful.”

The day passed in a blur of fetch this and fetch that. I moved through the room like a ghost, refilling glasses and serving plates, my presence unnoticed except by those who sought to command me.

But even as I worked, my mind raced with thoughts of unbearable nights. Each day in this house felt like a step deeper into a life I couldn’t bear. The walls of the plantation closed in around me, suffocating me with cruelty and oppression. I knew I had to find a way out, to break free from Mr. Austin and his thirst.

As the luncheon drew to a close, the guests began to depart. I stood in the dimly lit kitchen, the warmth of the evening slowly fading along with the light, the quiet determination in my heart grew stronger. The sounds of dishes being washed by the other slaves echoed around me, but I remained still, staring out the small window at the world beyond the plantation. The darkened fields stretched out like a vast, endless reminder of the life I desperately longed to escape. But they also symbolized the unknown, the uncertainty that lay beyond the boundaries of the only world I had known for the past decade.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind me. I stiffened, instantly recognizing the heavy, deliberate tread, It was Mr.Austin. My heart began to race as I fought to steady my breath, gripping the edge of the counter to keep from fleeing.

The other slaves, sensing his presence before he even spoke, immediately began to scatter, their movements silent and swift. Without a word, they left the room, leaving me alone with him. The sudden quiet made the air feel thick.

“Blaire,” he called softly, almost too softly, as if he were trying to coax a frightened animal. I turned slowly to face him, my expression carefully neutral, concealing the storm of fear and anger churning inside me.

“Yes, sir?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, even though every instinct screamed at me to run.

He stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking the only escape, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips. His eyes roved over me, and I felt the weight of his gaze, as though he was asserting his dominance with just his presence.

“Long day, hasn’t it?” he remarked, his tone light, as if discussing something trivial. He stepped closer, and the scent of tobacco and sweat clung to him. “You’ve done well today, Blaire. 

“Thank you, sir,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, though it trembled despite my efforts to stay calm.

*Hello everyone! If you enjoyed the first chapter of my first novel, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Leave a comment below to let me know what you liked, and don’t forget to hit that like button! Thank you!

[hoshi-y]

Is it possible to ask for an Obi x Reader love story based on this song??

You can ignore my recent requests or put this one first lololol, sorry for so many today 🙈🤣 ideas just keep coming like 🤯

Was also tempted to ask if this could also be Hanako x Reader cuz this song seems so valid for that situation too 🤣

You don't have to write, but thanks for reading this Hoshi 🙂💕

Ps. Hope you enjoy the song!!

Better than anyone else

Genre : Fluff

Characters : Obi

TW : None

A/N : I think I understood the song HAHAHA But in my power I'll do anything to bring this to life 😱

Sorry it took so long miss chimoto! all I do at home ever since Christmas break is sleep hehe

Also, this might not end up with alot of sense cause I couldn't understand the song BWHAHHAHSHS im sorry 😞

I hope you enjoy 💗

They don't know you the way I do

"Shirayuki.. Have you seen Obi?" The red headed girl turned around, some specks of dirt on her face as she was planting new herbs into the garden "I think he went into the woods" You jumped a little as you didn't see Zen standing by the entry "A little warning wouldn't hurt.. Also what is he doing in the woods at this time an hour" You sighed as Zen snickered

Shirayuki got up and dusted her hands "Zen don't bully them."

"I'm doing no such thing my dear" Zen said as he helped Shirayuki stand up "I was gonna ask you the same thing too [L/N], on what he is doing there. Guards have told me they've seen him come in and out of there frequently"

'Maybe its that again..'

"Apologies, I'll excuse myself for a moment" You jogged out the door "Oh and have fun love birds" You ran out after seeing Shirayukis reddened face

Obi has been going thru a hard time lately. He'd sometimes dissappear in the night and come back in the morning, you know cause you saw him and waited for him to come back

And right now it's one of those nights, you ventured into the woods at the back of the castle looking for him

"Obii!!" You began calling him as you looked at your surroundings

'Dang its so dark..'

You didn't have any type of light source to help you guide yourself thru the woods, It was quite foggy too

"Ooobbiii" You looked up at the trees on anywhere that have a high level ground in hppes you could catch a glimpse of him jumping from one branch to another

Due to the lack of light, you didn't see a fallen log on your way making you trip. Before you could hit the floor two strong arms grabbed you

"What are you doing here? its dangerous" You looked up to see the person you've been looking for the whole day

"Obi.. I was looking for you everywhere this mornin, and this is the last place I haven't checked out yet. So, what are you doing here?"

"Mmm.. Just, taking a late night stroll"

"Liar"

Obi looked back at you, The happy and fun aura was replaced with a serious one "What are ya talking about?"

You frowned "Obi, I know you're going thru a very difficult time right now.. And I want to help you, the least I could do is listen to what's bothering you" Sitting down at the fallen log you pat the unvacant space beside you signaling that you want Obo to sit next to you

Obi without hesitation sat next to you as the both of you stargaze for awhile before he opened up his mouth

"I.. don't want to burden you with listening to my problems [F/N]" His eyes still fixated up at the dotted night sky

"I don't have anything to do tomorrow and the night is still young" You turned to him as he chuckled "You really are stubborn.. But don't complain if I kept you here for too long"

"I won't~"

And just like that, ypu and him spent almost the whole evening together as you listen to his problems, his worries, and his anxiety.

Not alot of people can spot his saddened aura with that big goofy smile and somewhat approachable personality. He has hid to much behind a mask for people to even notice

They thought that whenever he would walk into the woods at night, they'd think he was out patroling

But you know him better than anyone else.

Your best friend

Your childhoof friend

The love of your life. Was crying in your arms

The past haunted him so much that his shell finally broke from the ampunt of tears he could hold back

"It's alright Dear.. Let it all out.." You layed his head on your shoulder as you held him

Even though he also tells his troubles to his fellow friends, you just seem to know him better with his emotions

Better than anyone else

So sleepy, but this burts pf motivation is annoyong so much

I'll fix this in the morning LOL

[bnbc]

moar babygirl content cuz I can!

here's a short extract from my lil 'legacy appreciation fic' I wrote 100 years ago and havnt fully translated:

__________

The sea breeze blows through the open window, moving the curtains which barely block the sunlight. The Heartseeker squints displeasedly, and, without waking up, rolls over to the other side. She presses her cheek against the shoulder of a man lying beside her and smiles in her sleep.

The Heartseeker always sleeps soundly, like a contented, meat-fed ice cat. She’s not haunted by memories, or mistakes, or the faces of her victims - only good dreams, only positive emotions. The foreboding of a possible disaster, the famous hunter’s intuition, dutifully retreats and agrees not to disturb her this morning.

Not the best strategy for survival, but now the last thing the Heartseeker wants to think about is survival: she came to Copero to have fun, relax and spend her hard-earned money, and nothing will stop her.

Not even the fact that the tall, dark-haired chiss she'd picked up last night at the beach bar is most likely a cop, or a spy, or a fellow hunter aiming for a bounty on the Heartseeker's head.

Perhaps the last option suits her the most. After all, this is her favorite game - to ingratiate herself with the victim, to get as close as possible, to become their best friend or lover, but not at all in order to make her work easier. Oh no, the Heartseeker does it for the last look, and for the way the victim's face changes when they realized they were played.

Would be so fun to be on the other side for once.

The Heartseeker doesn’t know yet that when she wakes up, she will feel a slight anxiety and unease. Nervous trembling in the shoulders, goosebumps along the spine, and yesterday's (today's) chiss won’t be to blame. It’s all about Copero, a beautiful green planet, with a clear, open and very high sky.

If a few years ago someone had told Asper Foss, a teenage gangster from a shabby mining asteroid, that she would miss the low ceilings and the feel of the mass of stone above her head, she would have laughed, and then, perhaps, would have shot them in the face.

[polyhexian]

Your phone okay? D:

I've been really avoidant lately cuz my anxiety has been sky fucking high, I've basically been hiding from all forms of communication other than Tumblr posts sigh

[iwritesmutnottragedy]

Coco stood on the outskirts of the music festival, surrounded by the deafening sounds of live music and partying college kids. The crowd was rowdy, and the atmosphere chaotic. Despite his stoic demeanor, Coco felt a wave of anxiety wash over him as the noise triggered his PTSD from his time in the Marines. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but to no avail.

He spotted a nearby vending booth and quickly made his way towards it, seeking refuge from the commotion.

Coco stepped inside the small booth, and the noise from the festival instantly reduced to a dull hum. The space was cramped, but it was a small oasis of solitude. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to regain his composure.

As he stood there, a woman came into the booth. She was shorter than him, with a bohemian flair in her attire and hair.

Sara smiled wide and friendly when she saw Coco, though something about the way he held himself had her just a little bit cautious.

"Hey is there anything I can do to help you?" She immediately returned to her spot behind the table laid out with different handmade bracelets and earrings. It was the last day of the festival and she was trying to get rid of as much merch as she could, but that motivation was also severely dampened by her social battery being on near empty.

Coco looked up, his expression still tense. "Nah, I'm good," he said gruffly. He glanced over at the bracelets and earrings she had laid out on the table, his gaze lingering on the intricate designs. Despite his rough exterior, there was something about the craftsmanship of the jewelry that caught his eye.

He looked at her then, his initial wariness slowly fading. "You make all this yourself?”

"Most of it. Some of the stones I buy cuz I can't exactly make those." She explained. The entire booth was an eclectic combination of wearable crafts and paintings and prints. Most of them, had some kind of overlaying Mesoamerican theme- specifically mayan. There were trippy watercolor paintings of glyphs and obsidian arrowhead jewelry.

"Well, I was just about to pop in the back for a smoke break. You're welcome to hang out in here as long as you want- I don't really give a shit. But, " her large brown eyes looked over him for a moment taking in the 10th set of his job the way that his posture was still a little bit guarded.

" You're also welcome to join me if you want."

Coco considered for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I could use a smoke," he said, his voice gruff but softer than before. He pushed himself off the wall, his movements still a bit tense, and followed her to the back of the booth.

As they settled into a secluded spot, Coco pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, passing the pack to Sara. "So, you a student or something?" he asked, studying her with his sharp, observant eyes.

She smiled but raised her hand at the offered cigarette, "Thanks I appreciate that-- I only smoke green though." She reached into her pocket to pull out a joint from her tiny stash box.

"Student? I look that young?" Her dark eyebrows went up with surprise. "Nah, I dropped out of high school, only did a couple semesters of art school with a GED. I mostly just travel from gig to gig selling art. You?"

Coco let out a low whistle, a hint of respect in his voice. "High school dropout running her own gig, selling art? I gotta respect the hustle," he said, leaning against the wall as he smoked his cigarette.

"Me? I was in the Marines until recently. Got out a few months ago," he said with a shrug, his eyes flickering away for a moment.

"Damn," She muttered, taking a hit from the joint and then offering it to him. Then she continued her thought around a large exhale of smoke pointed towards the sky.

"Marines. What was that like? Rough?" She'd never even considered going the army route so she couldn't hide the obvious curiosity at his experience. "My parents were too hippie to let me even think about joining the military."

Coco took the joint from her and took a hit, letting out a plume of smoke. "Rough," he agreed, his expression clouding over for a moment as he remembered his time in the service. "But I made it through," he added, his voice quiet but with an edge of pride.

He handed the joint back to her and chuckled. "Hippie parents, huh? No wonder you dropped out of school. I bet that went over well.”

She let out a laugh, "Believe it or not they still weren't thrilled."

After she took the joint back and took another drag she sat up a little straighter and offered her hand. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Sara."

Coco took her hand and shook it, his grip firm but not overly so. "Name's Coco," he replied, his eyes taking in the sight of her bohemian attire and carefree demeanor. "What's with all the Mayan-inspired stuff?" he asked, gesturing to the merchandise in the booth.

She could feel the callouses on his warm palm and it sent a small pleasant shiver down her spine. When he brought up her art she couldn't help but blush, her gaze dropping down to her open tied sandals. "It's a special interest, I guess. My dad's side are Salvadoraño so it comes from an interest in the heritage there...Kinda weird, I know."

Coco noticed the way she blushed and her eyes dropped to her feet, and he felt a small pang of... something, sympathy maybe? "Nah, not weird," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "I get it. Everybody’s got their own thing they’re into."

He raised an eyebrow. "Salvadoran, huh? That explains the dark eyes and hair. You speak Spanish?”

"My other side is Ashkenazi so I think the dark features were in my cards regardless." Though that had her regarding him in turn. He was obviously also latino, but she wasn't arrogant enough to guess where his genes were from on a map. Her posture relaxed a little but she continued to look sheepish.

"Eh, un penquito para-- I'm really bad at it. I can read it OK though."

Coco chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. "Well, at least you tried. That's more than most people can say."

He took another drag from the joint. "You're full of surprises, aren't you? A hippie drop-out artist with a thing for Mayan culture *and* you're Jewish." He shook his head, clearly amused.

"Yeah, but everyone has their own thing. What's your deal?" She looked up at the canvas tarp above them and admired the way the smoke danced in the light.

"You've said you're a vet, what do you do now?" She finished the joint and tossed the roach off into the grass before stomping it out with her foot.

Coco watched her stomp out the roach, his gaze lingering on her small frame for a moment. He was trying to understand her, the way she seemed to exude a kind of lightness that he wasn't used to seeing.

He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, his expression turning serious. "I'm part of the Mayans MC. We're a motorcycle club, based in Santo Padre," he said, his voice almost defiant, like he was expecting her to judge him.

"That explains the cool leather vest." Again, something else she knew very little about. But it definitely sounded interesting. She lived most of the year in an RV, the thought of traveling down the road so exposed send a shiver of fear and excitement down her spine.

"I've never ridden one, too afraid I'd mess up. But they look hella cool."

Coco chuckled at her response, the hint of a smirk on his lips. "You're afraid you'd mess up? On a motorcycle?"

He pushed himself away from the wall and stepped closer to her, his eyes roaming over her small frame again, sizing her up. "You're light, you'd be easy to balance. Maybe I'll take you for a ride sometime.”

Her cheeks went hot as she felt his gaze run over her. Sara did her best not shift or look too self conscious, faking confidence as much as she was able to. She didn't consider herself to be very good with people, and even this small opportunity to socialize was a rare occurrence. Generally, Sara kept to herself so tonight was another anomaly.

"Sure. That could be fun." She found herself agreeing, despite her better judgement.

Coco's smirk widened at her agreement. He could tell that she was trying to maintain her cool, but he could see the slightest hint of nervousness in her eyes.

"It will be fun. Probably the most fun a hippie like you has ever had," he teased, his voice low and almost playful. "But maybe you're too scared.”

Something in the challenge of his voice made her stand up a little bit straighter a fire igniting in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him until to her head, "Scared? Why should I be scared? You'd protect me, right?"

Her tone dipped into something playful, and energy that she wasn't used to experimenting with. But something about the way that his eyes cracked over her body had her curious about what kind of reactions she could draw from him. She took a step closer, nearly closing the space between them. "Besides, I don't scare easy.”

Coco's smirk turned into an actual grin as Sara countered his challenge with a playfulness of her own. Her step closer, closing the distance between them, sent an unexpected jolt through his veins.

"You don't scare easy, huh?" he mused, his voice a low rumble. He took a step closer, bringing them almost chest to chest. His eyes roamed over her face, taking in the slight flush of her cheeks and the fire in her eyes. "Prove it.”

What the hell was she doing? This wasn't like her. She was a loner. She was careful. She didn't just invite strange men into the back of her vending booth and then.. but there is also something that felt kind of right about what was happening in the moment and she wasn't ready to put a stop to it just yet.

She raised a hand and placed it on his chest, between them. Both to feel the heat of him under her palm and also in case she needed to suddenly push him away. Then, her eyes never leaving his- she leaned up to press curious and slightly tentative kiss to his lips.

"Like that?”

Coco's eyes widened momentarily in surprise as Sara's small, tentative hand touched his chest and her lips met his. But the surprise was quickly replaced by an unexpected and undeniable flash of desire.

He was used to strong, feisty biker chicks, women who could hold their own against his rough edges, not artsy hippie girls who sold jewelry and made him feel things he didn't expect.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, his calloused fingers caressing her skin, and kissed her back, this time with a smoldering intensity.

She was surprised by the intimacy of it. Sara melted into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Coco's waist to draw him closer. Something about his energy just felt nice. The little worrying voice that should have been telling her to run away was suspiciously quiet in the back of her mind. Instead there was only a low pleasant hum of growing desire. She continued to kiss him and took a step back so that she was pressed against the canvas wall of her vending booth.

"Wait, wait -" she broke the kiss with a reluctant gasp. Her dark eyes looked up into Coco's with intensity. "You don't have a girlfriend or anything right? Not like some wife or something?”

Coco's body was on fire, his mind consumed by the unexpected sweetness of her kiss and the feel of her small frame pressed against him. But when she broke the kiss and asked the question, it felt like a bucket of cold water.

He gritted his teeth, the intensity in his eyes flaring for a moment before softening. "No, no wife, no girlfriend," he said gruffly. "Why? Do you have a boyfriend?”

She smiled again and relaxed against him, no longer worried that her impulsive actions might turn her into some kind of homewrecker. She brought a hand up to cut the side of his face and ran her thumb over the sparse dark hair along the edge of his jaw.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend-- no one. "

Coco's expression softened under her touch, the tension in his body slowly fading. He turned his head into her hand, the rasp of his stubble against her skin sending a thrill through his body.

He leaned into her, his body pressing against hers, trapping her between the wall and his hard frame. He ran his hands down her sides, stopping to grip her hips with a possessive touch. "Good," he said, his voice a low growl. "I don't share.”

Her admission that she was single sent a flash of possessive satisfaction through his veins. Mine. He pressed her against the wall, their bodies flush against each other, his hands on her hips, holding her in place.

He leaned down, his breath hot against the skin of her neck, and nipped at her ear lobe. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, you know that?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Sara's breath hitched as Coco's hands slid down to her hips, his possessive touch making her squirm a little in his grasp. She felt small against his big, hard frame, but she wasn't afraid, not now.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of desire and curiosity. "Is this just for tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I think I can handle that."

Coco's eyes darkened at her question, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly. He'd been with plenty of girls who had come and gone, but something about Sara made him feel like he didn't want this to be a one-time thing.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her neck, just below her ear. "No," he breathed against her skin, the word almost a growl. "Not just tonight.”

He pulled away just far enough to look down at her, his gaze intense. "But you should know, if we do this, you're mine," he told her, his voice firm and absolute. "I don't share. And I don't do anything halfway. You'll be under my protection, under my care."

He leaned in again, his lips hovering just above hers. "But trust me, baby, it'll be worth it.”

She blanked up at him as his words sink in. This felt a lot like going from zero to 100 very, very quickly. But when she tried to read his expression, she couldn't see a hint of a lie there. She couldn't understand why it would take only one conversation with her for him to make this kind of claim but the fierceness of it sent a shiver down her spine. She also wasn't sure why exactly she would need his protection but him promising it to her made a funny little flutter in her stomach nonetheless.

"All right. That's good, because I don't do anything halfway either.”

Coco's eyes flared at her response, a primal satisfaction coursing through his body at her words. She might be a hippie drop-out with a penchant for tarot cards, but she had a fire in her that he found undeniably attractive.

Without warning, he dipped his head and captured her lips in a fierce, possessive kiss. His tongue flicked out, seeking entry, demanding and dominant.

She met his kiss with equal intensity, arching her body against him and tangling her fingers in his hair to try and bring him closer. They continued like that for a few moments, the heat between them reaching a fever pitch until a soft vibration started from his chest that got her attention.

Sara paused, and pulled away as she realized that his phone was going off in the pocket of his kutte. It took everything in her or not to continue peppering kisses down his chest and take a calming deep breath before asking, " Do you need to get that?"

She didn't know that he'd been in the middle of a job for the club, or that he still needed to do the pickup before the night was over.

Coco grunted in frustration as the phone vibrations broke the intensity of their kiss. He'd almost forgotten about the job he was supposed to be doing right now. But with the phone going off, there was no way he was going to ignore it.

He reached into his kutte pocket and pulled out his phone, his gaze never leaving Sara's flushed face. He checked the caller ID and his frown deepened. "It's Bishop," he said gruffly. "President of the club.”

He held his phone in one hand, his thumb hovering over the answer button. He knew he should answer, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was to end this moment with Sara.

His eyes met hers, a silent question in them. "I need to take this," he said, his voice hoarse with frustration. "But I don't want to.”

Coco watched as Sara pulled away, a pang of disappointment in his chest. He wanted to ignore the call and keep her pressed against him, but he knew he couldn't.

With a gruff sigh, he hit the answer button and held the phone up to his ear. "Yeah, Bishop, what's up?" he grumbled into the phone.

On the other end of the line, Bishop's voice crackled through the speaker. "Coco, where are you, brother? We need you for a pickup right now.”

Coco glanced up at Sara, the conflicted emotions showing on his face. "I'm at the festival," he said, still looking at her. "Can it wait?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and he could practically feel Bishop's irritation through the phone. "No, it can't wait," Bishop finally grumbled. "We need you now. We're behind schedule and you were supposed to be here already.”

Coco exhaled a frustrated breath. He'd been enjoying the festival, enjoying *her,* and now he had to cut it short. "All right, I'll be there," he said with annoyance, disconnecting the call.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked at Sara, an apologetic expression on his face. "I've gotta go," he said gruffly. "Club business.”

She tried not to eavesdrop too much on his conversation but still picked up a few of the words exchanged. She may have been objectively more innocent than him but she recognized the term pick up and tried not to let her curiosity show on her face. Instead, she just nodded and understanding and offered Coco her phone, the home screen already unlocked and the contacts app opened.

"I understand. I have to get stuff put away to actually." Now that the flames of desire had cooled a little bit, she was starting to think clearly. Her attraction and interest in Coco hadn't faded in the slightest, but she did realize that it would be smarter to at least get to know him a bit more before taking things further.

"I'm going to be in town for the rest of the month, if you want to get together and hang out or ... take me for that ride? I totally be down.”

Coco's heart gave a little flutter at her words, his eyes raking over her face. She was a breath of fresh air, a contrast to the tough, rough world he was used to. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this drawn to someone.

He took her phone from her and added his number to her contacts, his fingers lingering on the screen for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll call you," he said, his voice gruff and filled with a promise.

And with that, he leaned down and gave her one last, searing kiss, before reluctantly pulling away.

[shareof17]

To my girl,

In my growing-up journey, I met you - a beautiful, kind and intelligent student. 2 months later, you and I became deskmates. We both got on well with eachother. Needless to say, you are the best deskmate ever. I felt very comfortable and happy with you. Then, we gradually got closer, as if we had known eachother for years. You are my longest deskmate. Do you remember you even told me to stay away from you and stop sticking to you? I never think this will come true cuz in the extra class, i was still your deskmate. Well, i guess it's our fate.

I believe i'm not a good friend, a very bad one. How many times did i forget you? humm, i regret so much. But you are such an altruistic girl or you didn't even notice it. Sorry for all i did, i regret now. You are bright sunshine in my life. I can confide in you, even now. I share with you everything, including my past and present. You like a notebook to me that i can jot down my feelings, my anxiety and happiness.

But one day, the day i never forget, you passed away. That was a beautiful day, a windy day in the hot summer. I thought this weather signified good news, but the reality was opposite. This was the first time ever in my life, I cried in our class. I just hoped that there was any mistakes, but no mistakes at all. I was really shocked. The day before, i still chatted with you and the next day, you went with no response. I haven't told you yet, that on this day, I made a decision, which is to treat you better to compensate all the vulnerability i made. I made all plans for that summer, for you and me. But it didn't even start, you went. Your leave reminds me: the re-start won't be given to everyone. Maybe I'm not deserved it because you deserved better treatment.

Until now, i still live in regret. I wish everything could be just a dream, so when i wake up, i still see you in this position in our class. Giang, sorry for all i did. Giang, do you hate me because i haven't visited you. But Giang, i scare when i see you, i can't get over this hardship. you won't wanna see me anguished, will you? Our class will soon have a photoshoot day together to memorize our time at high school. You will see us from the sky, right? In your place, are you fine? Or do you reincarnate? hihihihi. if i can reincarnate, I will choose to your life-partner, i promise 100%.

Stay fine my girl, i miss you. In the age of 17, you passed away, leaving us with no response. But to me, you are the best girl in my life.

Your ex-deskmate,

to my girl in the heaven.

[b-chansbbygirl]

Update on moving:

Tomorrow's the day.

My step dad is going in the morning and getting a box truck for me to put my furniture in. I dont have absolutely everything together but I have most of it.

It's so surreal and doesn't feel real yet. My anxiety has been sky high and I was given medication to manage it. I took some of it and slept for about 5 hours cuz I was so relaxed. Im going to need more of it later.

I dont know how this is all going to play out but I'm gonna do my best to get through it. I've been an emotional roller coaster for the past few days and im anticipating it getting worse.

[izzy-b-hands]

It went better than I expected!!!

No invasive exams

And then just a telemed appt with the doctor next week and then she'll write my script for T!

Feels way too easy, but at the same time it's a weight off of me. I'm going to finally start to look and sound like me, the actual me!!!!!!

[citrinie]

im literally kicking myself in the butt rn for procrasinating :-/ i have to analyze this hella confusing norse saga by tmrw and im supposed to have an evaluated conversation with my teacher about the saga… ima just rethink my life for a second smh

[enigmaticclassics]

A Refined Collection

A REFINED COLLECTION BY MARCUS WRIGHT

LIBERATION

What once held you down, Can catapult you into orbit. Those experiences that drown you… That thought that clowns you. Traumas that found you Where is the meaning?

Inside, that prize That's structured so right. You mustn't deprive, Things which come from on high. The clay inside the stone, That breaks the mold. To bring power forth, Like never before.

Now the product of compact pressure. All those nights of self inflicted lecture How you let down your peers and endless tears That gave you anxiety and grief, Yet you stood firm in belief. That polished glow and that stainless finish. Far from perfect, but next to a glimpse. Of what could be, if that next step… Is as dense as it should reach To a crowd that welcomes a motivational speech. Welcome to that kid that no one wanted to teach.

DUSTING

To dig so deep That you awaken mid-sleep Just to thirst, not eat How you desire great plates On tables with white sheets Can you believe such a setting Set in time ahead of a heading You once jotted atop of paper, That you want to rake up.

Take time to recover. Since you are like no other, to shine and butter On toast and knife Despite sights Of ignorant plight  Smart, not wise Yet to demise Cuz the top is too high

Reaching for inspiration That hasn't met aspiration Since words won't always mean destination Information Should be paid for Once looked upon, Then made glow Sighs leaning against a payphone Extinct Need you say more? These ink shots shoot, Lay low!

COME

My eyes stalked her. What had been present for a while, I just discovered. She sat, elegant Even moved and gestured effortlessly The colors blended so eloquently. I paused to speak. Observation my thing. To notice and read, for future convo Just see. The ruby toned dress to match the accessories, You can't miss. Soft skin and deep eyes Sexy legs and healthy hair Thighs that weaken men, and a touch, just decadent.

Slowly the approach… Good evening rose. As her scent and aura shook my core. You can't prepare for a majestic presence. She looked and smiled as I pulled up beside. I asked if she was waiting? The response, debating. I suggested to keep her company for a few, since her mind was set on skating. Her smile and posture captivated my dating. Except, still type strangers Hopefully in the next sentence that changes. I couldn't stop admiring her greatness. The tone of voice to her thick curves. I don't mind patience.

Again I showed my charm, since her contact wasn't in my phone. We connected over patron. Not too much though… I'm in that zone. I wanted to feel her insides and watch her ride my pole. I wanted her legs on my sides and ass in my palms. I need her to cream down and scratch me up. The pleasure from the pain has to cum. All night I yearned for it. If her skin rubbed against mine I got goosebumps. Can she feel this? The body chemistry imagined future and present tense. Visions of sexual collaboration Damn, what a hit. The knowing isn't needed, Just the right chance to go!

COMPOSURE

Stuck, yet not stagnant Uncomfortable, just adamant Adversity comes natural Just make a way, that's actual. Build a plan. Connect the pieces. Tetris those legos Beyond distinction, Yet break that threshold No recognition To lose, not let go Another decision Basking in adrenaline Where your glands need no middlemen Thoughts have caved in. Muscles straight tighten

Obstacles arise, even in fright What's all good, Can turn into flight. Fight! Press! Clinch the greatness. Since the unknown hasn't left yet. Light maintenance Great destress Unshaken Still avoid a regress. Progress is always better with allegiance. Solo works prove independence. Errors cause progression dips. Victory is never earned off a whim.

TRUE GRIP

I will keep it, as long as possible. hold on to it, because it's valuable I will strain my muscles, just to prove a point. the hold established in my mind, is stronger than the grips joining flesh. The stress filled steel founding sky scrapers. Tsunami waves that smirk over land…

I will contain this, as long as I can, even after time has stopped. Right before the end. Letting go is not an option. what a paramount priority

So much has been underappreciated. taken advantage of Mistreated, Destroyed, NO! I will not, nor will I ever… Let go.

STANDING STILL

The place where I have been for so long. The setting where I was most comfortable. home for scattered thoughts panic, to make decisions The rush to find balance. frantic But I thought my choices were limited.

Could there be more substance? Why is this justified? these headless battles infinite research spent energy Fatigue What a mind maze…

Somehow, I have reached a calm plain. through the black smoke The abstract attractions, just outside of the ever so familiar terrain. efficient and methodical organized chaos What a better state…

CIRCLE OF WORDS

Some, no Most of them ignore it, feed it careless expressions. find more interesting activities, to them

The few that listen… however, those interested, Intrigued, captured even What a benefit of self.

A network of information. slow duplicating even the skeptics circle It's too late to occupy the source(s). News has now been filtered throughout. What an inspiration, along with the absence of technology. seriously, no fun Progressively appreciating exponentially, in a matter of minutes. So many have missed so much… All alike, yet unique minds operating so differently. As we witness the power of a simple question.

A Ghost

For the images alone, it's worth it. During the day they even haunt me. I fall in love with the ghost of you. I never care to see me. The passionate cinemas, I escape to them. write novels, essays, to reunite me with those sensations

Her body is of angelic royalty. Her presence will suffocate your lungs, and yet, I could die. She is of nothing I have ever witnessed. Her skin, more precious than brown gold. The poetry she speaks… Each syllable, dares not disappoint. One could never re-create the flawless traits of her soul. embodied power A man should take out civilizations, just for her pheromone fragrance.

Now, as I lay alone, with only the memories of a Queen. I'm consumed with these unfinished scripts…

FROZEN

Her scent improves her magnificent complexion. That so curvy figure. She dances effortlessly. Silky-smooth, just strolling across the room. Those tight jeans she pulls, just to show the texture of her legs. while she sits, bouncing with all of the poses To magnify each soft grip handle and juicy exterior. Her moist skin laced with the sweetest aromas. Establishing a glow envied by the sun. More than just plants survive from her touch. warm center in thick thighs defining sides devine insight Your imagination hasn't seen these eyes. cheeks better than those deep dimples That curly hair against your skin would destroy you, from your soul to each individual hair follicle. A death of the purest form.

A DEAD SON

I see the real you now, thanks to my brothers and sisters. You used to be so proud. so satisfied I was the "Golden Child". I was much younger then.

Eventually I would experience life.. see the world observe others and their families To feel love and witness loyalty. I realized that comfort was not love. I had become a man through much insight.

In time, I would come home. I wondered where the love had gone. the way you speak I felt like an outcast. Is it because of a new man in the house? I must've let you down somehow. I can only be me. It seems that this son is only worthy of compassionate phrases. If only true love was able to be seen, then maybe, what is invisible to you, wouldn't hurt me.

CLOUDED WALLS

The smoke hinders you.  binded to your interests, assisting your stagnation potential is pulling at you advancement is awaiting If only you could reach a particle of the big picture. Of course, it is bigger than you. Your analysis only reaches as far as your fingertips. Whatever has promise, you sent. A comfort zone of misguided trust. incorrect role models, happy with these things of no value

Perhaps… When these tainted clouds clear, you shall understand. Maybe, when you see through the fake, in desire for what is real, You could be more. In turn, those who you rejected will not be around. so you see… The real journey to knowledge and truth, will be the most difficult.

BARELY SHELTERED HOPE

As I sit here, alone, in a room full of space. An old chair, barely worth it's function. With a table just as stable as the half-hinged screen door. Adjacent a living room worthy of no company at all. floor boards as noisy as they are weak Only a couple working lights, just enough to create inspiration. just enough kitchen tools to prepare a meal an ice box hardly big enough falling apart cupboards

The roof needed patching, but no neighbors were seen. The breeze blew the tea aroma upwards to where no promise was shown. Where age and experience were redundant traits, upside was present.

Somehow… Motivation had arrived. amidst the hopelessness an establishment If life was going to take it's toll, then I too must leave an unforgettable mark on the world.

SOULFUL

Find a way to reset, before it's too late. after each journey each loss… The ongoing stress. the constant deciphering and hushed questions

Return to yourself, after you incorporate new parts. remove all danger remain on track Never let a temporary condition perminately exist. What is really at stake?

Succeed ahead of your past. What determines your worth? How valuable are you in your weakened state? Your strongest? Look up! Do not fall inside. Proceed, carrying the knowledge of everything that tried to kill you.

POOR SUCCESS

It starts with so much life, so much aspiration. Fueled with all this ambition. The answers you longed for. Peace at the core, which you often retreat to. The favorite soundtrack that plays as a constant reminder.

A plethora of reinforcements, all because others do not believe. Most will not be able to back you. Just give up… If not you, then who? knowledge and innovation spreads

For all of those before you, you sacrifice. your image reputation Friends turn strangers, then strangers turn ambassadors. Ideas turned into movements. Excitement behind a dream.

After all of the sweat and pain, now they smile and show appreciation. You're different now… Only interested in the impossible.

REMINISCENT FOOTPRINTS

Absolutely, I indulge Yesterday was absent. Today, who knows? Tomorrow looks bleak. What a feeling? Too bad that I can't create it.

A precise detail at the perfect time. priceless interactions that bliss A place where everything slows down. The future exists, because of this I rush to this place. Home away from home.

Peace intellectual climax All of the answers, and none of the nonsense. This is where I focus. I hope soon, I arrive once more. an inspiring collection

TRAUMA

I wonder… What ever happened to that jacket? I sure did endure the punishment. I'm sure it was worth it. Whomever needed it, I'm sure it's appreciated.

Even then I hated losses. stinging pain Blood was drawn. Like the one you lost. To this day, you wish you could go back.

However, every time there was loss, there was growth. transformation All of these childish feelings. Look at you now. molded together EXP To create a character. just to love fully help efficiently Stand up, while others sit. A branded mark within a universe, because now you won't be broken.

SPEED OF LIGHT

The window is so small. However, in this window change is constant. memories manipulated relationships defined There is no need to rush, only a reason to dismiss regret.

So many different departures… new arrivals limited opportunities In these moments we must cultivate, create, form foundations, enforce direction.

For everyone with purpose, all of those with a vision, when those voices are gone, leaders forgotten, the passion missing, families broken, pain overwhelming…. You'll wish those windows were oceans, how they managed to close in seconds.

ORBITS UNION

Without a doubt, she is the sun. The silence in her presence exposes her power. From within, she glows… She is one in a million, through the correct eyes.

Knowing this, If you should happen to go through life in her absence, depression would probably follow. isolated and ice cold A darkness one rarely encounters.

If you should happen to hurt her, death would be an easy way out. However, if you have the courage to love her, if you are able to guide her to peace, she would create a new world. manipulate the universe, just the two of you Rewards which are well worth the sacrifices.

THE GRAND STEPS

Through my journey, as I activate the individual ripples. the bending of landmarks compassionate contacts Loyalty even with distance. An atmosphere blossoming. infinite reaches absent chaos exposing the less substantial

The rush of advantage. The constant pursuit of influential form. exhausting efforts reaccuring pain focused value increase flawless Supreme quality fueled, invisible rewards, within worlds, created to make a difference.

PAPER ROUTE

This was no ordinary circle. One in unison. stepping together muscle memory The removal of doubt through religious repetition. rehearsal of trained form Thick pride that embraced their world. A reign so imposing…

A mechanical operation. leaving enemies helpless blueprints of information and riches everlasting wealth Infinite foundations, filled with pure notes. exponential potential Jumping portals of time effortlessly… in an instant progressively duplicating data

COMPLETE

Lost in ourselves. Looking down at the pieces. What do they all mean? What if the puzzle can't be completed? How much time do we have?

Maybe there is greatness here, which is yet to be seen. guidance, once overlooked A missing step of perspective surrounded in chaos. Giving up would be suicide if something of substance was spotted. Certain things could be relevant, but the journey is so tedious… What good would help do? these moments images deeply rooted No one could possibly understand this.

[misterewrites]

Mystery at the Salt-Irons

Hey everyone! E here with a new chapter! kept you waiting huh? Haha sorry it's been a busy few weeks. Nothing serious but I had to keep starting and stopping this chapter so it threw me off but it's here, it's ready and I hope you enjoy it!

I have some special guests in this story, some ocs made by my friends because you know what I can so I will and honestly, they were really great oc ideas guys. so keep an eye out for @hains-mae and Biz_fantasist  OC(I don’t know if she has a tumblr but it’s late so I’ll edit it later) 

That's it for me! I hope you are all stay safe, keep your loved ones safe, wash your hands, wear your masks, push to give everyone the vaccine cuz this is getting ridiculous. I hope you have a great week, thank you for reading. I deeply appreciate and feel free to share it with your friends, give me feedback. Reblog and comments all that fun stuff! Thanks and I'll see you soon!

Here’s the chapter over at Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/85394095

Here’s the story from the beginning if you’re curious what this is about

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

and here’s a list of all my work both original and the various fandoms I write for

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/works

Summary:  Finnrick is called to solve a mysterious case as per his job as the city's only Private Investigator wizard but as he sinks deeper into the case, the more it seems that something is happening behind the scenes. Of course with an old friend in town and dark magic surrounding the case, Finnrick is as busy as ever. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

-----

The Salt-Iron Flats weren’t anything special on the surface: An unassuming apartment complex on the north side of Newton Haven, the only thing most people remembered about the place was how the price tag hurt their souls.

Of course, unlike the general housing market, the Salt-Irons (affectionately referred to by the locals) actually had a very reasonable reason for fetching such a high rate: The salt and cold iron baked into every single brick that formed the building.

If you weren’t in the magical know, you’d think it utterly insane that you’d be forced to pay such a large amount of cash because some weirdo decided to make a new age artistic statement with bricks. Of course, if you are aware of the greater community at large, you’d knew you were paying the insanely large sum because someone decided to make the Salt-Irons the single most protective location in the city.

Most mortals have forgotten their history, their lore and collective knowledge passed down throughout the generations: Why their ancestors used to place lines of salt in front of the door and windows, why the elders always suggested to the braver, recklessly youthful family members to carry iron whenever they ventured through the wild.

Outer beings were repelled by salt and iron. No one really had an idea why fae, angels and demons weren’t fond of salt or iron and there's been plenty of arguing about the subject but all in all the fact remained they did not do well when faced with either.

That was the main reason Finnrick didn’t find himself in the north side of town often.

Well that and the zealous Gate Keepers. Those guys were freaks but between them and the Salt-Irons being the only supernatural community up here, Finn never got a case from the area.

Until today.

The Salt-Irons were great at protecting you from any outside threats that wished you ill will: It didn’t protect you from anything you decided to bring in with you.

It was five in the morning when Finnrick got the call. The M.R.R.D representative didn’t have much to offer beyond the address and floor but he thanked her all the same.

Finnrick yawned tiredly, stretching the tension out of his neck while he sipped his coffee. He let out a sigh of relief as the sun slowly rose into the sky.

The Salt-Irons was a twelve story tall building painted a ghastly pale green that made Finnrick sick just looking at it.

“People are paying how much to live in that shade? I’d ask for discount if I were them.” Finnrick laughing to himself, making his way into the apartment complex.

Luckily the interior was much nicer than the outside: Everything was well kept and cleaned. Not a single speck of dust in sight and the wooden stairs didn’t creak when Finnrick placed his foot on them.

Which was good given Finnrick needed to go up seven flights of stairs.

Finnrick wheezed a little, wiping the sweat from his brow when he reached the seventh floor. He glanced down the hall one way then the other as he began to search for room 707 which basic deductive reasoning suggested should be around the corner.

Finnrick crushed the empty foam cup and tucked it into his coat pocket as he made his way to 707. It was a simple wooden door and immaculately spotless just like the rest of the place. He rose his hand and gently rapped on the door.

No response.

He frowned, checking if he was still alone in the empty hallway and rose his hand towards the door frame.

His eyes glowed with a blue energy as he whispered softly “Revelis”

The door gleamed with a bluish hue for a moment before fading away without a trace.

No protective spells laced over the frame so the only thing Finn had to worry about now if it was locked.

He tried the knob, unsurprised when it swung open silently.

“It’s not breaking and entering if someone’s expecting you” Finnrick justified to himself as he pushed the door in.

He nearly staggered backwards: The air tasted thick and foul like something had been left rotting inside. His skin prickled with anxiety, a chill running down his spine with each step he took further in.

Finnrick took deep, calming breathes while doing his best to ignore the bitter taste that seem to cling the air within.

He noticed the trail of footsteps, perfectly preserved in what appeared to be black dust leading deeper into the living room.

“Hey da! You here?” Finnrick called out, carefully stepping closer “You and ma still married?”

There was a deep grunt of acknowledgment before a voice responded “Sorry son, we’re divorced now. She got custody of you.”

“Well fuck. I guess I’m going to be eating kale and poorly cooked spinach for the rest of my life.”

Garrus Valka was not in fact Finnrick’s father, adoptive or otherwise. He was actually one of the highest ranked officers of the Magical Rapid Response Department: An elf clocking in at 200 years old with richly tanned skin. His bluish gray hair was slicked back in his preferred style. Garrus’s had his back turned to the detective but Finn knew his sliverish gray eyes were deep in concentration as he took down notes about the surroundings. His beautifully inhuman features were marred with a scar on the right side of his face: burnt skin on his cheek, healed by time and various surgeries. An old war wound though Finn never got the full story.

He was dressed in typical M.R.R.D fashion: Dark blue windbreaker, jeans and a blue shirt with the words “Powered by coffee and spite” splashed across the front. His Winchester rifle was slung across his back, ready for any action that may befall the elf.

“Drift.” Garrus greeted teasingly while offering a hand.

Finnrick gave it a playful shake “Da. So is mom here or she trying to smite pigeons again?”

“THEY TRIED TO STEAL MY HOTDOG!” Garrus’s partner Eden screamed from another room “I SHALL BRING MY GOD’S WRATH UPON THEM!”

“You know when they mean justice.” Finnrick called out “I don’t think they mean against winged rats.”

Eden chuckled darkly “You know not their sins.”

“Okay.” Finnrick nodded despite the fact she couldn’t see him “If you say so. What happened Da? Aside powerful necromancy.”

“Powerful necromancy” Garrus replied cheekily “and missing persons.”

Finnrick rose an eyebrow “Persons? More than one?”

“Two: A father and son. Richard Charles and his son Richard Jr. Recluses it seems. Neighbors hardly saw them. Mostly kept to themselves.”

Finnrick pursed his lips thoughtfully “Any magical abilities?”

“They’re not on records if that’s what you mean.” Garrus answered “Never signed up in the academy, not registered with The Council. If they were practitioners they didn’t tell anyone.”

“So what was the spell? I just smell the remnants of spookiness.”

“Hadn’t noticed the rest of the room huh?”

Finnrick frowned before finally getting a good look at the rest of the room: Every inch of the apartment was blanketed with the same black dust that he found in the entrance way. Inches and inches of the substance and that wasn’t the strangest part.

Everything was bent at different and odd angles: chair with crooked legs, the wall clock warped and twisted, the fridge leaning like someone folded it in half. Floorboard reached for the sky and walls split inward.

There was a common misconception about magic. Most people thought spell casters, especially wizards, could command reality to their wills. That magic was capable of impossible feats and it was as simple as snapping your fingers.

The truth was all magic, ranging from divinity to free range nature, was performed on a micro scale. Practitioners did not alter reality but rather shortcut it. Throwing fireballs was as simple as rapidly heating the air until it combusted. Turning invisible was less about vanishing completely as it was bending the light around you to not be seen. Magic was rooted in reality and imagination. If you had the magical strength to perform the magic, the magic often followed your lead.

Of course there were spells that required much more than magical hand and willpower. Powerful magic, like summoning outer beings or raising an army of zombies, required both time and materials. Magic was like any other energy: you needed enough of it to perform what you wanted. The human body could only generate so much magic without dying and resting was necessary to replace any expended in the use of spells. Materials were guidelines for the spell. Feathers for anything with flight, ash for fireballs etc etc.

The other thing needed was to gather energy and store it for the spell’s use. There were different ways to achieve this: Wands, talismans, potions were basically magic soups. The most efficient way to gather energy was the wizards preferred way: Circles.

Finnrick eyed the room closely this time, murmuring under his breath about angles and trajectory. Garrus paid him no mind, well familiar with the private investigators methods.

“If this went like that” he gestured to the wall clock “and that went here.”

Finnrick glanced about, carefully walking about as if worried he was going to step on a landmine.

“Here.” Finnrick found himself staring at a spot in the middle of the room “Ventus.”

He gestured with a hand and light breeze filled the room. It brushed away some of the dust covering floor, revealing the outline of a half melted metal ring.

“What is it?” Garrus turned curiously

“Spell circle. The source of the explosion. I’m willing to bet it’s custom made. Copper, steel. Maybe some bits of tin couldn’t stand the surge.”

“No iron or sliver?”

Finnrick shook his head “That’s for containing or repelling monsters. Necromancy is more about drawing in the evil entities. Or sucking out life.”

Garrus sighed tiredly “Don’t touch?”

“Only if you want to live to see retirement. Might have some pent up magic ready to blow outwards.”

“Understood. I’ll call in our guys. I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

Finn nodded gratefully while pulling out a vial and motioning to the elf “Mind if I do?”

“Be my guest, you might find something we’d miss.”

Finnrick smiled gratefully before scooping up some of the dust and sealing it within the vial.

“Take care Garrus, stop fighting birds Ma!”

“Flying rats!”

-----

The cafe was lively despite being early but that was no surprise given it was Mother’s. Mother’s was the single best food establishment in all Newton Haven and if anyone disagreed, they were allowed to have their opinions.

They were also allowed to be wrong.

Finnrick paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of well cooked eggs and sweet lemonade. The pop and sizzle of heated grease brought a sense of comfort to the hard working private investigator.

“Finny Drift!” Maddie Copperstone called from behind the counter “How’s my favorite customer holding up?”

Maddie was 40 years young with tastefully curled dark brown hair. Human, little on the short side but fierce. She wore a simple red blouse and jeans, both stained with flour that the apron around her waist did not prevent.

Finnrick bounced over cheerfully, reaching over the counter to give the matron the biggest hug he could muster “I’m good Maddie. Working a case.”

Maddie’s brown eyes searched his face carefully “You always working Finny. You resting as much?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Maddie let out a disbelieving chuckle “You weren’t ever a Scout.”

“Honorary scout after I stopped that bear from eating them.”

“Thought it was a giant raccoon.”

“Yes but people don’t take giant raccoon seriously. He here?”

Maddie clicked her tongue disappointingly but motioned to the booth at the far end of the establishment “Rest.”

Finnrick rose his hand in surrender “After.”

“Never you mean!” Maddie shouted after him.

Amos Frye hadn’t changed much since last he was roaming around Finnrick’s neck of the woods: Handsome with soft gray eyes that reminded Finn of gathering storm clouds. His long black hair was tied in a messy bun held up by a golden pin, a braided strand hung loosely near his face. His beard was much shorter than what Finnrick remembered though he noted the unkempt split ends indicated that Amos hadn’t trimmed it in a few weeks. His iconic dark red sleeveless jerkin and black jean combination would look ridiculous on a lesser man but had allowed the monster hunter to show off his muscular frame. His brown skin was a bit more pale than usual so no doubt Amos had been operating at night lately.

“Finnrick, you cheeky bastard! I am so glad you came!” Amos beamed happily, his various bangles and bracelets clinking together in equally joyous celebration as the two shook hands.

“Amos! Happy to see you.” Finn beamed brightly as he slid into the booth across his old friend “Why though? Family trouble?”

Amos’s joyfully gleam turned dark for a moment.

“No. Have you…?”

Finnrick shook his head quickly “Not a word. Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

Amos waved the apology away “No worries cuz. I understand why you’d think that. Coming across the pond isn’t a spur of the moment thing and Os has always been the black sheep of the family. I suppose no news is good news.”

“Right.” Finnrick cleared his throat awkwardly “So what’s the trouble? I doubt you’d call me up for a nip and chat.”

“Rightly so.” Amos confirmed, reaching into the bag at his side and pulling out a folder “Hunting business as usual cuz.”

That made sense: Amos was the latest of a long family whose specialized business was monster hunting. The Fryes had been striking at things that went bump in the night for centuries ever since the first Frye defended the folk of some underground society.

Amos was an average wizard if Finnrick was being generous. That was not a slight against his old friend, it was a matter of fact: Amos spent most of his time honing the physical aspects of his profession which was obvious given the size of his arms. Any spells he knew were purely for defensive or preventive measures so he often communicated with Finnrick for higher quality and complex spellwork.

Finnrick took the folder from Amos and began pouring over its contents.

Most were quickly scrawled notes Amos had noticed about his quarry: Long sliver hairs, canine in nature. Large paw prints found in the areas it had been sighted, far too big to any natural wolf. Wulfvur and werewolf were hastily written and as quickly crossed out. A pattern of hanging out in wild areas, often forests and swamps.

There were pictures too: flashes of sliver, blurs of fangs and muzzles darting in and out of camera frame. It was always a distance away, sprinting deeper into the wildness. It was hard to tell from the photos but Finn guessed it might’ve been 10 feet tall at the very least.

“Why we hunting wolves now?” Finnrick asked curiously.

Amos flagged down the waitress “Contract given to my pa. It was hanging around the marsh lands of the jolly old isles. Someone wanted it gone.”

Something wasn’t clicking with Finn “and you followed it here? From England?”

“Nah cuz” Amos gave a cheeky grin “I tackled it through a portal and found I illegally crossed into America.”

“Ah.” Finnrick nodded in understanding “Fae.”

“Fae?” Amos frowned thoughtfully “I thought that too but I never heard of any snarling wolfie breaking into homes and snatching out wee younglings in them old folktales.”

“Fae are weird.” Finnrick shrugged “Their whole shtick is not making any sense. I had to expel a cat the size of a bus once. Double decker tall.”

Amos whistled in appreciation as he scratched his bread “So fae. Slippy fellow as you can tell. Whatcha recommend?”

“What’s the contract?”

“Banishment. It’s looking like wolfie ended up in the wrong part of town.”

“I think you mean next town over. Fixed a pattern yet?”

“Not yet but I wasn’t looking for one.” Amos admitted “Thought I was tracking some mutant. Fae changes a lot. Magical circles?”

“Easiest way to catch it.” Finnrick agreed “Sliver for sure. Iron would hurt it and based on your files, it hasn’t done anything than thin the local wildlife population. No need to anger mister big bad wolf.”

“Good call. I got some talent to handle a few circles but tracking is not really my speed.”

“I’m on a case but if you swing by the M.R.R.D, maybe they’ll loan you a wizard.”

Amos let out a disappointed sigh “I need to take care this sometime this year Finny. Bloody bureaucracy probably set me back a month at least.”

“There’s always Jaime but she’s pretty busy at work.”

“Jaime huh?” Amos smiled mischievously “I haven’t talked to your sister in a long time.”

“I will curse you.” Finnrick playfully threatened “And not no simple hex either. I’ll make you bald.”

Amos gasped dramatically, clutching at his hair protectively “You wouldn’t dare mate.”

“Shinier than the sun.”

“Okay, okay” Amos conceded “I’m kidding. She’s with Casey anyway. Good couple. Cute couple. He still hopelessly selfless and she still trying to fast track her way to power?”

“Yep.”

“You gonna fix that?”

Finnrick shook his head “It’s their lives. Their choices.”

“Idiots.” Amos chuckled “the lot of them.”

“All you need is love?”

“Spoken true the gospel of my land.”

-----

A few hours later with a brainstorm session completed and a promise to help out the next day, Finnrick left Amos to his work and continued with his own.

It was noon now and as the sun rose high in the sky, Finnrick found himself at the Grimyard.

The Grimyard was the premiere spot for all things magical in Newton Haven: Rows and rows of shops specifically catering to the magic community. The streets were paved with century old cobblestone and the buildings here were various hues of faded brick and mortar. It was easy to get lost in the Grimyard if it was your first time as the Grimyard did not spread out, it stacked downward. Layers upon layers of the Grimyard were actually underground to allow those with issues against the sun to sell their goods and services at all times of the day. Don’t let the dark fool you, anyone with worthy talent or product was here in the Grimyard.

Normally Finnrick would wander around a bit, checking out the various businesses and protective wards around the mile long patch of land but he was on the clock and the sooner he began to figure out what was going on, the sooner he could stop it.

Luckily for him, his destination was right here on the top floor of the marketplace. Specifically furthest back corner.

Knightly Ore was ran by the Knight family. Originally they only sold rare metals and ores which were necessary components for some of the more complicated magicks. At some point the owners expanded into selling more alchemical materials and eventually brewing potions, salves and such for a fee.

Despite decent business, it was the most rundown building in this part of the Grimyard: Broken window shudders with the paint faded down to the original shade when the business first opened decades ago. The humble black door was crooked and creaked whenever it moved

Finnrick knew the owners fairly well but here wasn’t here for them. He was here to see their son.

He pushed past the building, ducking into the alley that led to the lot directly behind the shop.

“Halt!” A voice called out “Who seeks the Brewmaster of the Grimyard?”

“It is I, Finnrick the detective. I got money and I need work done”

The Brewmaster was Theodore Knight, an incredibly talented alchemist who didn’t have the same opportunities Finnrick did: He was pretty tall for his age (14 or 15, Finnrick lost track once or twice) but clearly a teenager given his short lavender hair had a few strands dyed red. His eyes were an unnatural pale blue, paler than the blue of the sky. He wore the usual attire Finn often found him in: A sleeveless dark blue hoodie with a fist sized red gem clasped in front just under his neck and a lighter shade blue t-shirt. He wore black finger-less gloves gripping his brown messenger bag slung around his shoulder. A matching brown pouch hung around the waist of his gray cargo shorts and his brown boots were kept clean despite his place of business was in an alley behind his parents shop.

Theo jumped out from a hidden shadowy corner of the lot “Finn, whatcha got for me now?”

Finnrick reached into his pocket, showing the eager teen the vial that held blacken dust within.

“That’s it?” Theo scoffed, rolling his eyes “I was expecting something…...cooler.”

He took the vial and raised it to the sun. Theo gave it a rough shake and watched it carefully for any properties the strange substance would display.

Theo frowned, clearly unsatisfied by what he saw “You brought me ash? Plain ash? It’s your money but even I think it’s a waste.”

“It’s ash?”

Theo shot the detective a look that screamed how obvious it should’ve been “Yes, ash. Thicker than what I’ve seen but ash all the same.”

Finnrick bit his cheek thoughtfully.

“Look Finn, you know my rates. I dunno what you want me to do but standard fees apply.”

“I’ll paying double.”

The Brewmaster’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Double for ash? What’s so special about it?”

“Oh nothing." Finnrick pretended to look disinterested “Aside it was taken directly from a crime scene: Necromancy and cast via a half melted spell circle.”

It took Theo a minute to allow the implications of what Finnrick said to sink in. His eyes shifted from suspicion to wild excitement.

“Really?!” Theo clutched the vial like it was his first born child “Necromancy really doesn’t like many alchemy processes. It’s not going to be easy for me.”

“I know right?” Finnrick grinned impishly “It’s almost like I’m going to have to pay double for it.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to….” Theo pouted unhappily “Ha freaking ha. Okay smart guy, pay up.”

Finnrick handed over 50 gold. Theo took it eagerly, his eyes lightening up with glee.

Theo paused for a moment, his face turning oddly serious for a teenager.

“It might take me awhile depending on what you want.”

“I want to know what’s in it. Necromancy requires specific ingredients. After that it’ll be easier to track the seller.”

“And the buyer!” Theo blurted out excitedly “Smart.”

Finnrick ruffled his hair playfully “I wish I thought of it. You keep this up and you’re going to run me out of business.”

“I’ll text you when I have something.”

“Pleasure as always Theo.”

“It’s Brewmaster.”

-----

It was 2 in the afternoon when Finnrick made his way back to the Salt-Iron. He stood outside the complex, tossing the remains of his pizza into his waiting maw and crumpling the can of soda he was drinking before tucking into his coat pocket.

“What’s this?” Finnrick asked, utterly confused by the crushed foam cup he pulled from within “Oh right my coffee. I’ve been really at today.”

Finnrick wiped his hands clean and made his way inside the Salt-Iron once more, mulling over the details of the case as he ascended up the stairway.

Blacken ash cast by a spell circle. Both father and son missing with no indication where they went too. Recluses and rarely seen. Necromancy within a threshold.

It was hard to tell how deeply the father and son were involved in spell. Someone who had access to the apartment was behind it no doubt. Spell circles were the most consistent way to cast magic but they took time to build, set and channel energy. You didn’t build a spell circle without knowing exactly what you plan to do with it.

The nature of the magic was also a mystery: Dark magic had various applications and not a single one was good. Finnrick hadn’t much experience with that branch of magic but there was nothing logical about the aftereffects: Ash spread throughout the apartment, clinging to everything like a second skin. There was no signs of an outward blast given that nothing bent in the same direction. Everything in that room decided to twist in whatever wayit felt like. If the spell was supposed to draw in something then chair legs and wall tiles would’ve been pulled directly towards the circle.

“Curiouser and curiouser Alice” Finnrick spoke to no one in particular.

He was on the fifth floor when he noticed something odd.

Finnrick raised an eyebrow as the skies outside the window darken, black and stormy.

A thunderstorm it seems.

Finnrick peered out the window, glancing upwards to see what was going on.

Dark clouds swirled directly overhead. Rain began to lightly drizzle as the skies boomed. Thunder and a moment later lightning trailing across the gathering storm.

A thunderstorm that formed directly above this building.

Without warning.

“Well that’s not ominous.”

Finnrick made the mistake of leaning closer to the window, peering around to see if he could see where exactly the storm was coming from when it happened.

“Watch out below!”

Finnrick noticed three things in that moment: First, was of course, someone shouting to watch out below. Second was the distant sound of claws scratching something wooden, the walls perhaps. Lastly was the thudding of something falling down quickly and towards him.

Finnrick rose his hand, pivoting on his heels in time to see something crash into him.

It wasn’t much of a contest: Both Finnrick and whatever slammed into him broke through the fifth story window and went sprawling into a freefall.

[levissmollpp]

➩Rainy dates ☈

[Mikey,Chifuyu,Hanma & Baji] ✦

⤷ going on a date together with them but it starts to storm

✦

[Warnings; little bit of manga spoilers || slight use of swear words und little mention of drugs!]

Mikey;

You and Mikey were going out today to a new store that opened just recently. Mikey was constantly talking about it for the whole day since he find out how good their dorayaki were. Since u got nothing to do today u guys decided to check it out.

The line was long but you still waited for an hour until it was your turn to go in. As you both ordered and exited the sudden rush of wind made you shiver.

"Uhmm mikey should we go home it looks like it's gonna thunderstorm"

The clounds turned into dark gray color pretty quickly and the sun disappeared out of the sight. Meanwhile mikey was in his own world munching onto the food.

Little droplets of rain started to fall as you quickly grabbed mikey hand and walked into a playground. There was a playhouse in the middle of the playground and you both decided to wait there for the rain to end.

"Mmh... glad we stopped by" mikey smiled as you nodded. "Are you cold tho" he proceeded to give you his jacket.

After awhile the rain got stronger and you guys still sat there chatting and cuddling under the rain.

When it finally finished raining all there was to see was a big rainbow covering the sky and the sun coming back up.

As you were about to stand up you noticed the weight on your lap as you saw that mikey fell asleep.

"I love you Mikey"

Chifuyu;

It was a sunny afternoon as you decided to visit your boyfriend chifuyu who's currently working at the pet shop. You waited infront of the shop as you noticed the dark clouds slowly covering up the sun. You cursed to yourself for not bringing an umbrella.

The sounds of a door being open made you quickly shift your focus to your dark haired boyfriends exiting the shop.

"Chifuyuuu!!" U ran into him to give him a huge hug making him blush.

"Why did you come over? I told you it was gonna storm today and you're gonna catch a cold"

Chifuyu quickly wrapped his jacket around you and both of you decided to ran home as quickly as possible.

When the rain started pouring you guys got desperate since your home was still 5 minutes away.

" you know what? It doesn't matter let's just enjoy this moment and we can take a shower later" chifuyu grinned as his hair covered his face.

You both just played in the rain like little kids and jumped into every puddle you were able to find until the both of you were soaked.

Chifuyu pulled you in and gave you a long passionate kiss before entering your home. You both showered togethered and watched movies for the rest of the day.

Hanma;

The relationship between you and hanma wasn't the greatest. Fights would occur often between you two and it always felt like a cat and mouse game.

Him teasing you was something you got used to and the smell of cigarettes was something you used to hate but now it's nothing new to have him smoke around you. It was already past midnight and hanma was nowhere to be seen.

You being like a worried mom decided to call him multiple times and wait outside for him to come home. Your legs shaking and your anxiety of something bad happened was unbearable.

You hated this. Worried about him you never noticed the rain slowly pouring. Suddenly a familiar voice was heard in a distance.

Oh fuck rain..ughh"

You turned to the direction of the voice to see hanma throwing down his cigarette as he was soaked wet from the rain.

You quickly ran towards him almost tearing up because of how much you were worried about him.

The smell of alcohol and drugs was all over him. It disappointed you alot that even he noticed.

"What's with that shitty face baby? It's late you should've been asleep" the words he soflty spoke hurt you.

You can't sleep when he's doing stuff like that making you worry so much.

Hanma quickly took you in a hug as he says

"I'll ease up on alcohol and drugs if that makes you happy"

he was pretty wasted and kinda high as you noticed him leaning his head onto you shoulder trying his best to stand. You smile as you try your best to bring him home and but him onto the bed.

He fell asleep with a alight smile on his face that made your heart melt.

Baji;

Baji was usually on house arrest but today he was supposed to get groceries since his mom worked that day so he had to do it himself so he decided to invite you along.

You both met near the convenience store near by and went to the restaurant next to it since they have pretty good peyoung yakisoba.

You both were full and by the time you guys finished it started to rain heavily.

Baji quickly gave you his hoodie and tried his best to cover you up while you two ran to the stroe to buy all the things he needs.

Even when you both finished with buying all the stuff the rain hasn't stopped.

"Get on my back bby" baji suggested as you got onto his back and he caried you quickly over to his house where you two played game for hours.

Anyways hope you guys liked it cuz I'm not that good in writing lol<3

[clotpolesonly]

I feel you re: fandom exhaustion. Have you tried unfollowing/blocking people with takes you don’t like? I’ve found that fandom a much more relaxing place once I started not letting the stressful stuff cross my dash in the first place. Sometimes it meant unfollowing someone who posted a bunch of other stuff I actually liked, but if it meant not going into a comment-reading spiral every time they shared stuff I disagreed with, I thought it was totally worth it.

(even if they were only sharing something so they could rebut or disagree with it; like yeah I like that they’re on my side but if they’re going to keep dragging untagged takes I dislike or discourse onto my dash, I would still give them the block/unfollow because intentionally or not they were still causing me stress)

oh i've unfollowed LOTS of people. i've unfollowed enough people that i'm starting to run out of the content i want on my dash, cuz it's hard to find the good stuff without the bad and even blogs that i thought were innocuous occasionally end up slipping shit onto my dash. i've only actually blocked a handful of people (the ones that are Like That™ enough not to leave well enough alone), and i've also blacklisted those names so posts that have additions from them or even reference to them are no longer shown on my dash (though i do see "hidden for X", which often lets me know the person who reblogged it follows them, which is a red flag all on its own a lot of the time🙃)

and discord is its own mess. i get 95% of my social interaction from my discord fandom servers, and i love them to death, honestly i do, i've lived in those for YEARS and been happy to do so. but, again.......it all felt a lot less stressful in years past. it's the hazard of large servers that you're guaranteed to have conflicting opinions in there, and in most regards that's one of the things that i absolutely love about it. discussing things from various angles, getting different viewpoints, having actual conversations about the show(s) that i love are what make fandom worth it. but conflicting over the same things over and over again, seeing the same cold takes that i would usually just unfollow someone for on tumblr and not really being able to do anything about it or escape it (can't blacklist words/terms on discord like on tumblr, you just have to wholesale block individuals, which i can't really do because i moderate several servers and mods can't just ignore things 😅 in their servers), is turning out to be very grating nowadays in ways that it didn't used to be, even if it's only a fraction of the actual activity. even just the passive aggressive mention of some of these topics is enough to make me feel like shit for the rest of the day.

same with fic. i've hardly read any fanfiction at all in MONTHS, not because i don't love the characters anymore, but because there's no way to tell what take the author is gonna have or what fanon characterization they're gonna lean into, and getting halfway through a fic before being hit with That Stuff™ kinda makes me wanna cry by now. the subtle stuff never gets tagged for, but it sure as fuck can still ruin my week. it's safer to just not bother. and that SUCKS.

my anxiety has been SKY HIGH lately, and i can't tell if it's because i'm already super anxious for outside reasons and that's making the fandom stuff worse, or if the fandom reasons are making me super anxious on their own and making the outside stuff worse. it all feeds into each other and everything is just bad.

and there's not a whole lot that can be done about it besides, like. leaving. which i'm not gonna do. because i do love the show and i do love interacting with other fans of it and sharing ideas and jokes and spitballing story ideas. without all of that, what would i even do with myself??? as previously mentioned, this stuff is 95% of my social circle 😅 and i have nothing else to replace it with. unfortunately, TW still takes up the majority of my brain, and trying to cut that out would just make me isolated and even more miserable.

it just really really sucks that the fandom that used to feel like home.....doesn't anymore.