#even as it was I got the ‘late bloomer’ talk and decided I’d heard enough

[eddito]

the closest I’ve gotten to coming out to my parents was about 7 years ago when my mum asked if I was into guys and I said no, and then asked if that meant I was into girls and I said no, but like…..I am and have always been visibly queer/gnc so my family knows they just don’t know y’know?

today, while I was working, mum asked if I had a secret boyfriend, no, or a girlfriend, no, and then got sad and said she doesn’t want me to be alone lmao like I very much appreciate the support but I have told her countless times I’m happy tyvm

[asahipleaseloveme]

A Light in the Dark

Soulmate AU

Asahi x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None

Author's Note: this is my piece for @gg9183 soulmate au collab! Congrats on your milestone and thank you so much for letting me join 🥲. In this AU, people see the face of their soulmate in their dreams. Some people see a face sooner than others. As always, feedback is appreciated!

"I don't know, Asahi. I think this whole soulmate thing is just a bunch of bs," you stated matter of factly. "Everyone claims that they see the face of their soulmate in their dreams. And it’s the only face they see until they find them. Pff, yeah...okay. I'm sure some people do. But there's no way everyone can see it, right?" You questioned more to yourself than to your companion who joined you for coffee.

"Maybe you're just a late bloomer? Or it could be that you're a little impatient. But it’s most likely because you’re a goober,” Asahi playfully ragged on you. “I'm sure you'll see a face in no time," he reassuringly stated.

"That's easy for you to say. I bet you've already seen your S.M.'s face. And they are probably beautiful and perfect. I wouldn't expect anything less for you, ya big softy," you teased as you poked him in the side, causing him to jolt away from the sudden contact.

"Hmph, even if I told you I haven't seen a face yet, you wouldn't believe me. But, you're still dreaming about nothing? Just total blackness?"

You stared at your drink for a few seconds to think of how you wanted to answer his question. It's true; for the past six or seven months you've been dreaming in total darkness. It's like you're in there, but there's just nothing. Almost like a void. For a while you were really concerned that it meant you didn't have a soulmate. No one you've talked to had experienced what you were currently going through. Everyone has been dreaming about a face. Some of them have been united with the person in their dreams, while others were still waiting to find theirs.

"Actually," you cleared your throat, "last night was a little different. A light started to shine through the darkness. I woke up before it could get too bright. But I don't know what it means, you know."

You looked up at Asahi sheepishly. You felt a little silly talking about this with him. You know he's been dreaming about his soulmate, but he's just too polite to tell you.

"A light, huh. Maybe that means your soulmate is a lightbulb or something. Ohh, or the sun!" Asahi chuckled.

"Shut up, Asahi," you chuckled along with him.

Your laughs subsided, and your eyes focused on his face.

"Hey, we will still be friends after we both find our soulmates, right," you broke the silence. You panicked as you didn’t want to come off as needy or jealous. "It's just that, I've had some friends who broke off their friendships with others once they found their S.M.'s. I was hoping we wouldn't have to. You're, like, my best friend," your face was getting hot and you could tell it was glowing red.

"______, you're my best friend, too. I'd like to keep it that way," Asahi smiled so softly at you. Even though he was usually the anxious friend of your group, his words felt so relieving and calm. You let out a sigh and smiled back.

"Oh, shoot. I gotta run or I'll be late for work!" Asahi said in a panic. "Uh, I'll text you later. See ya, goober!"

“Bye, goof. Have a good day at work!”

You spent the rest of the day at the library scouring through any book or online article you could find regarding dreams. Specifically soulmate dreams. You couldn’t be the only person who was experiencing the weird phenomenon of dreaming of nothing. The more you searched, the more disheartening it became. There were plenty of stories out there. Articles about people dreaming about a face for a few months before finding them. Articles about people dreaming about a face for decades and not finding them. Accounts of people marrying someone who they didn’t dream about and still finding happiness. Even reports about people who got married to someone other than their soulmate and divorcing their “non-soulmate” once they found them. There were even studies that gave the percentage of the likelihood of ending up with a soulmate. None of these findings were able to quell the uneasiness in your mind.

You threw your hands up in the air with a disgruntled sigh. “This is hopeless. I’m hopeless.”

You began packing up your things when Ashai texted you.

~You shouldn’t worry about this whole dream thing. I’m sure it’ll come to you soon 😊 ~

-I doubt it 😠-

~Lol you’re just grumpy. Go eat some food.~

- >:P -

~Are we still on for the park tomorrow grumpy pants?~

-Duh, goob. The park is the best part of my week. I wouldn’t miss it.-

~Me neither. I was just making sure.~

You grabbed a quick bite to eat at the convenience store around the corner from your apartment building. You made your way up the three flights of stairs to get to your little flat. “Home” was starting to feel a little lonely. Maybe that’s why you tended to spend most of your days somewhere else. You chucked your keys on the counter and tossed your shoes off by the door. As you were heating up your microwaveable meal, you received another text from Asahi.

~______, I know it’s easy to say, but keep your head up. I have faith you’ll see your soulmate 🙂. ~

You smiled at his kind words. He’s always been such a good and supportive friend. He’s always so patient with you. Hell, he’s even started to tease you back when you initiate it. You weren’t lying when you told him that he was your best friend. You didn’t want to imagine him not being in your life. Maybe that’s why you were so worried about the whole soulmate thing. Once he found his soulmate, he would probably start to treat you differently. Would you do the same when you (if you) found yours? What if-

Your thoughts were disrupted by the microwave going off. You quickly ate your dinner and then got ready for bed. You stared at Asahi’s text before deciding to just leave it alone. Sleep soon hit you. Again, you started out in the darkness like you have for the longest time. A light starts to appear and the intensity is getting stronger and stronger. It’s almost too bright for you to even look at. Suddenly, a fuzzy shadow of a head blocks the view of the light. The face begins to come into focus when you wake up with a shooting pain in the back of your head.

“Are you...kidding me? A blurred out face? Typical,” you rubbed your eyes and stretched. “Can’t wait to tell Asahi about this one.”

Asahi was waiting for you by the entrance of the park with a coffee for you in one hand and a coffee for him in the other. You called out to him and ran over to meet him.

“What’s this, Asahi? Need that extra dose of caffeine to walk with me today,” you smirked.

“Oh, I-I just felt bad about poking fun at you yesterday. I just wanted to make it up to you, so you know that I was just kidding.”

You giggled, “Asahi, we poke fun at each other all of the time. I think we know each other well enough that we understand it’s just in good fun. But I will gladly accept your peace offering this time.”

Both of you turned into the park and you began your weekly stroll. Ever since the two of you met years ago, you had a weekly walk through the park to discuss anything that was on your mind.

“So, uh, I saw a face in my dream last night,” you stated ever so shyly. “But, I didn’t actually see the face. It was blurred out. I don’t even know what that means!” You expressed the words with such anger, you stopped in your tracks. “Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you must be tired of me talking about this all of the time. I’m getting kind of tired of it, too. But this whole thing has me scared. What if my soulmate is someone who I won’t even like? What if they hate cats? What if they won’t even remember my favorite coffee order? What if they are mean to other people? I just don’t think I can handle that. I-”

“______, it’s alright. I know it can be scary, but you just have to believe that your soulmate is someone you’ll like. Even if you don’t like them, there’s nothing that states you actually have to marry them, ya know? I think that-” Asahi was cut off with the warnings of distant Heads up shouts, but by the time they were heard, a soccer ball crashed right into the back of your head.

You found yourself on the ground, coffee spilled all over your pants, and a massive pain shooting through the back of your head. You can faintly hear Asahi calling out for you, asking if you are okay. You look up at him, but the sun shine was so intense that you had to squint. The shadowy figure, the same figure from your dream, blocked out the sun and your eyes started to focus on the face. The figure blocked out more of the light, the face becoming more in focus.

“Asahi?” you sat, puzzled.

“______, oh my gosh! You don’t remember me. Did the ball hit you that hard? Oh no, we need to get you to a hospital now!” He panicked as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you up to your feet.

“No, no, no. I remember you, ya goof. It’s just that...you...your face was...is...you’re my soulmate,” you stared at him with doe-like eyes.

He smiled down at you and wrapped you in a warm embrace.

“I’ve known for a while that you were mine,” he stated with happiness erupting from him.

“How long have you known?”

“Do you remember the day you spilled coffee all over my pants? Yeah, I started dreaming about you that same night.”

“Asahi, that was the first day we met...that was over two years ago! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I guess I didn’t want you to feel pressured to like me. You could have been dreaming about someone else and I didn’t want to get in between that. And part of me wanted you to like me because I’m...me. Not because you felt obligated to. ”

You smiled at him, “You’re, like, the biggest goof I know. How long would you have waited for me to, you know, finally catch up?”

“For you,______, I would’ve waited forever. Because there is honestly no other goober out there for me.”

You laughed as you gave him a hard nudge to the ribs. All of the fear and anxiety you had melted away the longer you were wrapped in his embrace. Your head started to go fuzzy and you weren’t sure if what because you were so relieved or because you just got donked in the head with a ball. Either way, you knew that you and Asahi were going to make each other happy.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Asahi. And thank you for liking me as I am. I know I can be a little overbearing and grumpy at times. I’m glad that you’re my goof. Oh, my head,” you sighed before letting out a groan.

Asahi looked down at you and smiled. “Let’s get you to a doctor, goober. You got hit pretty hard.” He kissed you on your forehead gently before scooping you up in his arms. This wasn’t how he had imagined this reveal going down, but he couldn’t help to be happy that he was your soulmate and you were his. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life making you happy. And you felt the same way.

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 3

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Hunting (nothing descriptive and they’re not just hunting for the fun of it, it’s for survival)

“You know, it’s about damn time that these dumb asses gave me some help around here!” Kibum exclaimed happily as Yoongi stood awkwardly in front of him. “Well, don’t just stand there boy! Grab that maple wood there!” Yoongi moved quickly, grabbing the long plank of wood before moving back over to Kibum, setting it down in front of him. 

Yoongi had only been working with Kim Kibum for a few days now, but he had quickly learned just how...out there the man was. 

“You know, I’m one of the oldest elders in this damn pack and because of that, you would think that our amazing Pack Alpha would’ve given me some help before now but no!” Kibum ranted loudly as he grabbed a buzz saw, cutting into the maple wood. 

“Uh, how old are you exactly?” Yoongi wondered, looking at the full head of grey hair that the Alpha man sported. Yoongi figured that he had to be over 60, because he didn’t have a distinct scent anymore. 

“Don’t you worry about that,” Kibum smirked. “You just hope that you’ll be lucky enough to make it to be my age someday. Now, come here so I can show you how to cut out this shape for a bed that someone ordered!” 

Even though it had only been a few days since he started working with Kibum, he found himself enjoying both the work he was doing and the man’s eccentricities. Actually, Yoongi found himself settling into the pack so easily that it almost scared him half to death. With everything that he had just been through with his previous pack, he didn’t want to risk that happening again but he also couldn’t deny how nice everyone had been to him since he had arrived onto their territory. 

After spending two hours helping Kibum and learning some different techniques for woodworking, Yoongi walked to the front of the hardware store and sat at the front counter, manning the register while Kibum took his lunch break. Just as he found himself becoming bored, the small bell above the door jingled as it opened, Taehyung walking inside.

“Hi Hyung!” He greeted Yoongi cheerfully, making Yoongi glare at the Beta as he made his way to stand in front of him.

“Are you never not happy?” Yoongi wondered.

“Rarely, except for when Jungkook tries to pull that ‘baby Alpha’ bullshit on me,” Taehyung shrugged.

“Speaking of that, are you and Jungkook like...a thing?” Yoongi questioned.

“You mean are we mated?” Taehyung chuckled and Yoongi hummed while nodding. “Not yet, but hopefully we will be by this time next year.”

“What’s the wait? You’re both presented.”

“Yeah, but he’s still kind of young for mating even by pack standards, with him only being 20,” Taehyung explained. “Plus, Kook was a late bloomer so he’s only been presented for about a year now and he’s still settling into his Alpha hormones.”

“Ahh,” Yoongi nodded in understanding. “And you’re willing to wait?”

“Hyung, I’ve been in love with Kook since I was 17 and he was 15, so over five years now,” Taehyung smiled. “I’m more than willing to wait if it means I’ll be able to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Must be nice,” Yoongi muttered.

“What about you hyung?” Taehyung wondered. “You ever think about mating and settling down?”

“Not really,” Yoongi shook his head. “Never really appealed to me.”

“Well, that’s fair,” Taehyung shrugged. 

“Can I ask you something else?” Yoongi asked and Taehyung shrugged before nodding. “When I first woke up here, at the medical cabin, I heard you and Y/N talking and you said “what if our parents had left me?”. You said it to Namjoon too. What was that about?”

“Ah, that,” Taehyung laughed. “So, as you know, I’m a Beta and I was actually born in a different pack.”

“Really?” Yoongi gaped.

“Yeah. I’m still not too sure of what exactly happened because I was only 3 at the time but my birth parents and most of my old pack were killed,” Taehyung began. “We were a small pack so our territory got taken over and it just wasn’t pretty. I ended up wondering through the woods alone and that’s when Joon hyung and Y/N-ah’s parents found me and took me in. It was actually kind of controversial, especially since their parents were Pack Omega and Pack Alpha at the time and the only kids that they were allowed to have were their own.”

“Because of the bloodline,” Yoongi finished, knowing very well how pack hierarchy worked. When a Pack Alpha and Pack Omega had children, it was expected that one of those children would be the one to take over the pack whenever their parents decided to retire or passed away. Competition for the title was often fierce, depending on the number of children in a family and their subgender, and adding to that adopted children who had no real linkage to the bloodline only served to further complicate matters.

“Exactly, and it didn’t help matters that when I presented, I turned out to be a Beta. The only fucking Beta in the pack at that,” Taehyung chuckled. “It was just another thing that made the adopted kid stand out, you know?”

“I get it,” Yoongi muttered. “Well, where are your parents now? I haven’t met them yet, or at least I don’t think I have.”

“They were both killed in the Great Pack War seven years ago,” Taehyung told him and Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. Yoongi was more than familiar with the Great Pack War that had taken out massive numbers in almost every pack in South Korea, which included his own parents. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered.

“It’s ok. They were protecting the pack at the time, which was always their main goal, so that makes me feel a little bit better,” Taehyung shrugged. “Now doesn’t it make sense why Joon hyung was so uptight about me brining you onto pack territory?”

“Yeah, it does,” Yoongi huffed. “Especially since his mate is pregnant.”

“Yep. Enough about that though,” Taehyung said abruptly, changing the subject. “I came here to ask if you wanted to come hunting with us.”

“Who’s “us”?” 

“Me, Joon hyung, Hobi hyung, Jungkookie, some others,” Taehyung listed off. “Since we’re entering fall, Joon hyung wants us to try to get extra meat to put into storage. Just in case snowfall comes early this year.”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi replied slowly. “I mean, my wrist still isn’t 100%. I don’t think I’d be able to take down anything.”

“Well, we always take extra tools like spears and stuff with us so you can use of one those.”

“Taehyung, I’m Prime,” Yoongi deadpanned. “I’m literally made to hunt animals with my bare hands.”

“You presented a problem, I offered a solution,” Taehyung laughed. “It’s up to you to take it or not.”

“I’m working though,” Yoongi tried to excuse himself.

“Not anymore,” Kibum interjected as he stepped out of his small office that was just to the left of the front counter. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off.”

“Really?” Yoongi asked.

“Yeah, it’ll be a good way for you to show that you’re contributing to the pack,” Kibum said. “And make some friends because Lord knows you need some.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Taehyung laughed. “So, what do you say hyung?” As much as Yoongi wanted to say no and keep up the façade of him not wanting to get too used to the pack, he also couldn’t deny how antsy he was to hunt again and satisfy that part of his biology.

“Fine,” he relented, cringing immediately afterwards when Taehyung let out a loud cheer. 

.............................

Following Taehyung out to the edges of the pack’s territory, Yoongi was surprised to see so many people preparing themselves to hunt. Most of all, he was surprised to see you standing there as well, talking to Namjoon. 

“Hey, nice to see that you’re joining us Yoongi!” Hobi greeted him cheerfully and Yoongi just nodded towards him. 

“I have to say, I told Taehyung that he wouldn’t be able to con you into coming,” Namjoon chuckled as he pulled off his t-shirt, and Yoongi noticed that he had the same tattoo that you had on your right should smack dab in the middle of his chest. 

“Him and Kibum double teamed me,” Yoongi shrugged. “I had no choice.”

“Figures,” Namjoon chuckled. 

“What are you doing here Y/N?” Yoongi found himself asking. “You seem a little too high maintenance for hunting.”

“High maintenance my ass,” you scoffed. “You sure your ‘Prime’ senses will be working well enough for you to even hunt?”

“Don’t worry about it. Speaking of senses though, wouldn’t it be too much for you to be hunting Omega?” Yoongi questioned, taking a little pleasure in the way that your scent soured a little.  

“You wanna see how dangerous it can get, you keep talking, dumb ass Alpha,” you spat back.

“Oh my god, enough,” Jungkook chuckled. “Are you two gonna do this shit every single time you see each other?”

“If he wants to keep going, then I can too,” you smirked, making Yoongi roll his eyes.

“Never thought you would’ve been the petty type Y/N-ah,” Taehyung laughed as he took his own shirt off, and Yoongi noticed that he had the same tattoo that you and Namjoon had on his left shoulder. 

“Alright guys, you all know the rules but I’m gonna reiterate since Yoongi’s new here,” Namjoon began, silence falling over the small crowd. “Stay within pack territory, you’ll be able to smell the scent markers. Please don’t try to take down anything big if you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I don’t want to have to patch any of you guys up,” you added with a smile.

“And lastly, if you run into anyone else on our territory and if you smell anyone else that’s not a part of the pack, no fighting,” Namjoon finished. “You come get me and I’ll handle it. Understood?” A murmur of confirmations flowed through the air, making Namjoon nod in satisfaction. “Well, let’s go.”

Everyone darted off then and Yoongi did the same, following behind Taehyung as they ran deeper into the forest. Since Yoongi hadn’t been hunting in almost three weeks, feeling the wind whipping against his face and scalp seemed to make him almost come alive again. Yoongi loved to hunt, especially since he was exceptionally good at it (even for a Prime Alpha) and it was one of the few things that he was praised for in his former pack so being able to finally do it again was a literal breath of fresh air.

Deciding to be smart, Yoongi had mostly let Taehyung and Jungkook lead him through the forest, since they both knew their territory better than he did. He helped them take down some rabbits and squirrels, and even some groundhogs and woodchucks. 

“Wow Yoongi hyung, your nose is amazing,” Jungkook smiled as he strung the rabbits up together, making them easier to take back to the dining hall for preservation. “Oh, is it ok if I call you hyung?”

“Sure,” Yoongi shrugged, figuring that if Taehyung was already doing it, then there was no harm in Jungkook saying it. 

“God, I’m definitely going hunting with you all the time now,” Taehyung announced giddily. “I’ve never caught this much, this fast, and this easily.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” Yoongi muttered sarcastically, freezing immediately afterwards when he caught a whiff of the air.

“What is it?” Jungkook wondered, noticing how he froze.

“It’s musk deer,” Yoongi whispered, turning around quickly as he tried to get a better idea of where exactly the deer was. “Stay here.”

“Hyung, you can’t take down a deer by yourself,” Taehyung murmured. “Your wrist.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi stated simply, stalking away from them and moving quickly to his left, the scent of the deer becoming stronger and stronger. He stopped behind a tree, smiling to himself when he saw the deer grazing on some grass in the small clearing between the tree he was hiding behind and another. The deer was totally unaware of it’s surroundings, and Yoongi just knew that it would be an easy takedown.

Just as he moved from behind the tree to pounce at the deer, he was blindsided as he felt a blow connect to his knee and knock him down onto the ground hard.

“What the fuck?!” He sneered, shaking his head as he tried to regain his composure. When he looked up, he saw you there, standing in front of the now dead deer.

“Hi,” you smiled, waving your hand at him lightly. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He questioned as he stood up, dusting his clothes off.

“Oh, was this your deer?” You asked innocently. “Don’t worry. It’s probably better that I took him off your hands for you.”

“You smelled me here,” he accused you and you shrugged your shoulders while smirking.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t,” you vacillated. “Maybe I just wanted to show you what dangerous really looks like.” Feeling himself seething with anger, he just spun around on his heel and began to walk away, stomping back towards Jungkook and Taehyung. As he did so though, he couldn’t help but to wonder who the fuck you were and how the fuck you had learned to be such a damned good hunter as an Omega; almost even better than him.

[violetwolfraven]

Write Out Some Colors

@the-gay-trashmouth this is a gift for the newsies filmiversary exchange! You asked for newsbians getting together in any au and I decided to do it in my superpowers/rebellion au!

@newsiesgiftexchange one gift down, one to go!

Ngl I’m super excited to flesh out my take on Sarah’s personality here!

Tw: non-graphic injuries, mentioned abusive parents, war-like elements.

...

Sarah had thought she’d seen it all. A 15-year-old who could pull weapons out of nowhere, a 13-year-old who could see the future, even her own twin revealing out of nowhere that no, her own powers hadn’t been misfiring, he did have powers too and could talk to animals and had never told her.

All three of the kids in their family had powers, which made them illegal, which meant they were on the run with a handful of other kids with powers, whom they’d met through a boy Davey met in jail.

Strangely, that situation had worked out okay, as it turned out Jack Kelly was pretty good at keeping a gang of a couple dozen kids safe, and he didn’t have a problem with adding the Jacobs siblings to the mix.

Davey was probably the least-powerful of them, as he could communicate with animals of all kinds, but that didn’t mean they had to do what he said. Les was the most powerful, able to convince anyone to do anything, and Sarah was squarely in the middle despite technically being the oldest.

Her power was that she could see auras. Read them to know what kind of person she was dealing with, who they cared about, and what their powers were if they had any. Occasionally, she could drain power from an aura to put a person to sleep or even kill them, though a general rule of their gang was that they didn’t kill unless absolutely necessary.

Given the information she learned from auras, Sarah could literally see the tension between certain pairs in the group. She could see when they fell in love and instantly tell what power-levels they were dealing with when they met up with other gangs of powered kids. She’d pretty much seen it all.

Sarah had, however, never seen an aura like the one surrounding a girl she didn’t recognize, who was accompanying Spot and Hotshot on a meeting from Brooklyn.

Bright magenta, a glow of power that flickered and rippled in a sphere around her. Not quite as bright as Spot and Hotshot, but powerful nonetheless.

The girl herself was maybe a year or two older than Sarah, with red curls and brown eyes, a hard gleam in there like most Brooklyn kids. Unlike Manhattan, that gang didn’t have qualms about killing if they had to.

The way her aura moved suggested that she wasn’t especially attached to either of her friends yet. Probably a new kid. And the contained energy of it, the way it didn’t quite disperse into the air like, say... a pyro’s, was similar to Jack’s, like it needed to be consciously manifested by an action like drawing or something.

To say that Sarah was curious was an understatement.

Analytically minded in a way that made her good in fights, she liked knowing all possible variables. And she had no idea what power set they were dealing with, with this girl, so naturally she wanted to find out.

But while Jack was talking to Spot about something the Brooklyn and Manhattan gangs could potentially work together on and Hotshot was hanging out with one of the Guzman twins, Specs was already making friends with the new girl. They seemed to be getting along pretty well.

Sarah was going to go over to join the conversation, but... she wasn’t the most diplomatic in the group.

She was on good terms with Spot, but not great at making friends. And that girl was almost definitely a new kid, so it was probably better for relations between gangs for her not to try too hard to figure her powers out and scare her away.

She didn’t even find out her name until after Brooklyn left, when she asked Specs.

“Her name’s Katherine,” he responded, “Katherine Plumber. Nice enough, I guess, for a Brooklyn kid. She’s 18. A bit of a late bloomer, I guess. Apparently Spot considers her some kinda secret weapon.”

Brooklyn was a powerful gang, so if Katherine Plumber was considered special by their standards, that meant she had to be a serious powerhouse.

But, Specs didn’t know what her powers were. Which was rare because Specs was widely considered so trustworthy that he knew pretty much everything about everyone.

It wasn’t unheard of for one gang to turn on another, so Sarah figured it was safest to find out, which was definitely the only reason why she offered to come the next time Jack went over to Brooklyn to talk to Spot.

Screw Jojo and Albert’s laughter. She was only scoping out a potential threat. Power sets she’d never seen before needed to be planned for.

Specs wasn’t there this time, so Sarah got the chance to talk to the new girl alone.

Katherine Plumber was... really funny. And sarcastic. And she’d discovered her powers later than most and therefore was new to this world, but she was figuring it out quickly. She was smart. A fast learner.

Her aura was even more fascinating up close. The energy had an unexpected chill to it, kind of like mint—definitely similar to Jack’s—and Sarah was very curious because it clearly wasn’t the same power set. Jack’s power of bringing drawings to life was so unique that no one had ever heard of anyone else with the same one.

But Katherine wouldn’t demonstrate hers, although she accepted Sarah’s invitation to go on a scouting mission the next week.

And though staking out an office building was dull and boring, she still wouldn’t demonstrate her powers. Fascinating and frustrating.

It was amazing, how she always found a reason not to show Sarah what she could do. There was always a counter argument, always an excuse. And Sarah had just as many ways to ask for demonstrations, so they were constantly intellectually challenging each other. And they were spending a lot of time together, just because Sarah kept offering and Katherine kept accepting.

“You’s got a crush on her!” Albert teased as he and the others cackled after she explained how she had plans with Katherine again this weekend.

“I do not,” Sarah retorted, “I’m being practical for Manhattan’s future!”

No matter how Albert and Jojo and Les and even Davey laughed, it was only to find out how big of a threat she was in case Brooklyn ever became a rival.

2 missions became 3, became 6, became 10, until Sarah could count 27 excuses she’d made up to see Katherine in 2 months and she still didn’t know what her powers were.

Until Manhattan’s hideout got raided while Katherine happened to be over visiting, and as everyone else scrambled to their defense positions to let the less-powerful and younger members of the gang escape, Sarah saw her whip out that little notebook and pen she always kept in her jacket pocket.

Like over a bog, we need some fog

The thick mist rolled in out of nowhere, and all of Manhattan escaped, following Katherine to Brooklyn’s latest hideout. Spot was willing to let them stay until they found a new place of their own. After all, they were on the same side.

Only after she’d helped Jack conjure replacement bedding and supplies for the stuff they hadn’t had time to save did Katherine sit down with Sarah off to the side and explain exactly what she could do.

“I have to write it in verse for it to happen,” she explained, “Rhymes. That’s why I didn’t notice I could do anything until I was 17.”

She explained that she’d pretended she didn’t have a power at all for almost a year, until her 2 closest friends found out and told her it was too dangerous and she had to run away before her parents found out, because they would inevitably find out if she stayed.

Remembering how her parents had told her and Davey to take Les and run for their own safety when she was 16, Sarah was inclined to agree. Powers had a tendency to come to light eventually, no matter how you tried to hide them.

Katherine was a real powerhouse. She was like Jack—Sarah was right—just slightly to the left. A creator. She had endless potential, and power like hers was bound to show through.

However, some powers were good for hiding, and Kenny and Blink had a place for Manhattan to move into within a week.

Sarah was surprised about how she... wasn’t excited about that, and she told Race as much, figuring he would understand. It was common knowledge, at least among the older kids in Manhattan, that he was closer with Brooklyn than any of them.

Plus, Sarah could see it. She could see the way his aura moved around a certain Brooklyn boy, trailing towards him and tangling pale blue with dark red, like all they wanted was to hold each other close.

It didn’t make her jealous at all, being able to see who was in love with who and that it was requited. It didn’t matter that powered people rarely lived past 21 and Sarah was 16 and unlike many of her friends, she hadn’t found anyone yet. She was happy for him that Race had that.

“I’d like to stay, yeah,” he admitted, “Brooklyn’s... part of my heart’s always gonna be here. But Manhattan’s my home. My family. ‘Sides, Jack and Crutchie needs my help runnin’ things.”

In the end, that conversation was completely unhelpful, because Race’s main reason for leaving was that he was one of the gang’s seconds. Sarah wasn’t a second. She wasn’t staying out of responsibility.

The only responsibility she really had was to Davey and Les, and... did they really need her?

“You wanna stay, don’t you?” Davey guessed randomly the day before Manhattan moved out of Brooklyn’s hideout, “Stay in Brooklyn.”

“With Katherine,” Les added.

This time, neither of them was teasing.

“I’m thinking about it,” Sarah admitted, “I’m not sure if I should.”

To her surprise, Davey shook his head quickly, “No, Sarah. If you wanna stay I think you should stay. Especially if the only thing you’d be coming with Manhattan for’d be me and Les.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine without ya.”

“Thanks, Les.”

“I mean we’s got Jack, and Crutchie, and all the rest of Manhattan. You don’t have to worry ‘bout us, Sar. You wanna stay with Kat, so you should.”

Sarah was conflicted until the day they actually left, and though her bag was packed, same as the rest of them, she stood at the doorway of the hideout watching her friends leave in small groups to sneak to Manhattan’s new home for an unreasonable amount of time.

Fuck it. She knew where they were going. She could visit. Her brothers got more powerful every day, same as her. She and Les had survived just the two of them for a while before Davey broke out of jail and brought Jack and the gang into their lives. The boys had each other and Jack and the gang. They would be fine without her.

So Sarah stayed, and she was pretty sure Spot and the others knew why. If she didn’t know any better, she could swear the king of Brooklyn was a little jealous that she was free to. It was nice to get to know him better. They’d always gotten along well, but building a real friendship meant they found out how kickass of a pair they could really be.

She wasn’t sure if Katherine knew why she’d stayed. Her aura gave away nothing but surprise.

The only aura Sarah had trouble seeing was her own.

It was a periwinkle color when she cared to stretch her powers to see it, it had barely any glow, and it moved like a kind of fog, spreading out and weaving through others’ energies, a little bit of it always lingering around the people most important to her even more than others’ auras ever did.

Katherine’s aura was so bright that it was even harder than normal to perceive her own.

But no matter how she denied it to her friends and brothers... she could still see traces of periwinkle flickering around and tangling with the magenta.

“So, you decided to stay,” she noted, and Sarah gave up on trying to see what she was feeling about that, because Katherine’s aura had the contained energy of a creator. Like Jack, it was hard to read her because her aura hardly moved at all.

“I did,” Sarah responded, trying to gauge her reaction the old fashioned way; through her face.

Unfortunately, the difference between the two creators was that Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions in his eyes, and Katherine, of course, was making things difficult. As usual.

“You’re not going to ask me why?” she asked after a couple seconds of silence.

“It’s because we make such a good team, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s because we all know Spot and I would be the ultimate power friendship.”

Katherine laughed, “I can tell you’re kidding, but you’re not wrong.”

Sarah was strongly considering making some clever remark again, but after thinking about it in the loaded silence for a couple seconds...

“What would you say if it was something like that? Us being a good team.”

She definitely wasn’t holding her breath while she waited for her response.

“I’d say we are pretty kickass together,” Katherine answered, “Maybe even more than you and Spot.”

Sarah was obvious about it intentionally when she gave her a once-over, and she saw Katherine smirk mischievously.

“Definitely more than me and Spot.”

“I think I’m gonna like you sticking around.”

Sarah wasn’t sure who moved first, but they both lunged for each other within the space of a couple seconds, hands tangling in hair and lips meeting as a few months worth of tension released with one kiss.

Albert, Jojo, Davey and Les were going to be so annoying when they found out they were right.

Still, Sarah grinned as they pulled apart, “I think I’m gonna like me sticking around, too.”

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 2

Hello all, once again I arrive to bring you the next part to Midnight Striga, Episode 3! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

“Willow, I heard.” Luz chuckled. “Speaking of names, mine’s Luz.” With that said, she held out her hand, open for a shake.

Willow blinked, before, with a beaming grin, reciprocated the handshake. It wasn’t often that people were this openly friendly to her! “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Luz! I-” Willow’s voice cut off as she focused on a detail she had missed prior; Luz’s ears, her very noticeably round-tipped ears. “So circly…” She murmured in fascination, only for her hand to be lightly swatted away by Luz. “Oh! I’m sorry, but, it’s just, you, you’re a human!”

Luz grave a slightly irked grin. “Yup. Been one all my life.”

Willow rang her hands, flustered. “Oh my Titan, I can’t believe I lost control around a human. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” She asked again.

Luz was a little ticked at the implication that she was fragile, but kept it in, smiling at the girl’s concern. “Like I said, I’m fine.” She spread her arms, showing off the lack of damage to her limbs and body. “Might have a few aches and pains in the morning, but other than that, I’m good.”

“A-are you sure?” Willow pressed. “I mean, I know humans are more frail than Witches-” Willow’s voice cut out, suddenly intimidated by the sharp glare on Luz’s face.

“Humans. Are not fragile.” Luz bites out. Breathing in deep, Luz lets out a sigh, calming herself. Forcing a smirk on her face, she asks Willow, “Besides, if we were, could I do this?”

Willow gasped as Luz proceeded to do the “this” in question; summoning a chair made of light, and plopping herself down in it, a cocky smirk on her face. “But. Magic! How? And you!! What is-” At that point, Willow’s legs gave out, causing her to slowly topple over.

“Whoa there, don’t go falling on me now!” Luz yelped, quickly moving to steady the other girl. As she managed to keep her Willow on her feet, Luz let out a relieved sigh. “And, there we go!”

“Thanks.” Willow gasped out, steadying herself. “Now, where was I? Oh yeah!” Willow snapped her fingers in realization, pointing at Luz dramatically. “YOU JUST USED MAGIC!!!”

Luz gave Willow a flat look in response. “Yes. I did. Is that a problem?” Luz asked as calmly as she could. Don’t get her wrong, Luz liked this girl, but she was still a bit salty about the incident from four days prior with the deliveries.

“Oh, nonononono!!” Willow frantically denied. “At least, not with me. It’s just really, really shocking.” Luz gave a shrug at that, not contesting the point. Willow sighed. “I’m sorry if that sounded rude, it’s just, all my life I’ve been told that Humans can’t use magic, that it was a gift for us Witches and Demons. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Willow finished, offering a shallow bow in apology.

Luz snorted at the display. “Pfft. Don’t worry about it!” She flippantly stated, a cheeky grin on her face. “I’ve gotten used to the whole “humans don’t have magic” speech already. It’ll probably grate on my nerves when it comes up, but it doesn’t bother me. Honestly, what concerns me more was that little display with Little Miss Perfect.” Willow snorted at the not-inaccurate description for Amity, a little surprised at someone being so dismissive of the girl.

Clearing her throat, Willow broached the topic on her mind. “I’m not going to ask how you can perform magic, and I must say that your spell looks amazing, but why were you hiding in the bushes?”

Lus flushed. “I was actually looking for… something I lost earlier this week. I overheard you talking to yourself, and saw the whole exchange between you and Miss Minty.” Again, Willow held in a chuckle at the flippant nickname. Luz’s face grew serious. “But, I gotta say, as someone who specializes in Construct-based Magic… your Abomination?” She phrased it as a question, continuing at Willow’s answering nod. “It literally made me cry to see.”

Willow grew downcast, sorrowfully mumbling. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that before.” Willow shyly twisted her foot against the ground.

Luz clapped her hand on the Witch girl’s shoulder, snapping her out of her funk. “Hey, don’t talk like that.” She held Willow’s face in her hands, much to the other girl’s bewilderment. “That Abomination is for a presentation or something, right?” At Willow’s cautious nod, Luz grinned, continuing. “Then I can help you! In exchange for a peek inside your school, that is.”

Willow was dubious. “I don’t know, do you even know how to make an Abomination?” She doubted it, but it was better to ask than to assume.

Luz grinned challengingly. “Do you have a textbook detailing this?” She gestured to the Abomination goop. With a slow nod, Willow brought out the textbook in question, one she routinely poured over every night, desperate to understand what she was doing wrong. As Luz flipped through the book, she marveled at the detailed notes covering each page; clearly, this girl was no slacker, so how was she doing so poorly? Unless… as Luz took a closer look into the Pot, she gained an idea as to what the problem was. She piped up. “Hey Willow, do you think you could summon this for me?”

“Uh, sure?” With a nervous flick of her wrist, Willow called up her Abomination, internally cringing at the admittedly poor result. She was slightly puzzled, however, by Luz crouching down to get a better look, and grew a little worried at her chuckling.

Snickering to herself, Luz decided to voice her thoughts on the situation. “Willow, would you say that you like plants?” She was sure that it was an understatement, but it was best to make sure.

Blinking, Willow nearly shouted in response. “ARE YOU KIDDING!? I LOVE PLANTS!!” The gleeful cheer ripped through the clearing, leaving no doubts to her opinion on the subject. “If I had any real say, I’d much prefer learning Plant Magic than… Abominations.” She continued at a much more sedate volume, spitting the last word with a surprising amount of venom.

Luz cocked an eyebrow, amused. “Well, considering that thing with the vines,” Willow flushed in embarrassment at the memory. “I think I know what your problem is.”

Willow paused, uncomprehending. Then, she rushed deep into Luz’s personal space, an almost manic gleam in her eyes. “Really!? Do you mean it?!?” She demanded, roughly shaking the human.

“Y-Ye-e-e-ss, now-w s-sst-op sh-shaking-g m-meme!!” Luz garbled.

As Willow sheepishly released her, Luz straightened out her clothes, voicing her theory. “My best guess is that you have too high an affinity with plants and plant magic. That’s why you struggle so much with making these things,” She kicked the Abomination Pot, “despite having so much knowledge on the topic.”

Willow’s eyes blinked rapidly, confused. “Affinity?”

“Do Witches not really work with those?” Luz asked. At Willow’s still confused nod, Luz pondered the information. “Huh, that explains a bit. Well, to simplify, a Magic User’s affinity, whether Witch, Human, or Demon, is the representation of the magic closest to their soul. Every mage has an affinity, heck, the strongest mages often have several, but everyone’s got at least one.”

“Okay,” Willow replied slowly. “But what does that have to do with me and my Abominations?”

“Everything.” Luz bluntly stated. As Willow flinched in response, she continued. “I’ve seen magic react to its wielder’s emotions, heck, it’s usually a good way of checking a fresh mage’s magical affinity, if they're strong enough to handle it, but I’ve NEVER seen a reaction as powerful as that one.” Willow blinked, not quite processing what Luz was implying. “Girl, you have to have some of the singularly greatest potential for Plant and Plant-based Magic I have ever seen in my life, and the power to back it up.”

“B-But I’m the bottom of my class,” Willow stammered. “I-I was a late bloomer!”

“If anyone told you anything like that, they didn’t know what they were talking about.” Luz calmly stated. “If you got labeled a ‘late bloomer’ or anything like that, it only reinforces my theory.”

“How so?” Willow softly asked, still trying to process it all.

“Easy.” Luz shrugged. “Your affinity for Plant Magic is TOO powerful. Your magic naturally seeks to become Plant Magic and spells, so if you attempt anything else, it backfires. You’ve got incredible power, and can do insane things with Plants, but the trade off is that you can ONLY do things with plants, at least alone.”

Willow’s legs wobbled, and she fell to the ground. She was so confused. All this time, she was never a Half-a-Witch? She wasn’t a late bloomer, just too good at one thing? “Then, what am I supposed to do? I’m in the Abominations Track, I’m not supposed to use Plant Magic!” She was mostly trying to convince herself at this point. “My parents said I’d have better prospects in Abominations!”

“If they said that, then I’m sorry to say that they have no clue what your prospects are really like.” Luz coldly replied. It was harsh, but it needed to be said. “It doesn’t matter if the field itself has great prospects or opportunities, if you can’t even do the bare minimum successfully, you’ll never be able to benefit from them. Keeping you in Abominations is just going to cripple you in the long run.”

Willow cried, tears softly running down her face. “Then, then, what’s the point?” She cupped her face in her hands. “If I can’t even benefit from a Track I hate, then what can I even do?”

“Hey, hey!” Luz lightly chided. “No talking like that! You may not have a future in Abominations,” She ignored Willow’s bitter agreement, “But we can at least get you a grade good enough to tide you over until we find a solution.”

Willow looked up at Luz’s daring grin. “How?” She asked challengingly.

“Treat it like a plant.” She said.

Willow blinked. “Huh?”

“If you can’t get it right as an Abomination,” Luz began, “Then try it again, but this time, imagine forming your Abomination the way you would have a plant grow.”

“Would that even work?” Willow was skeptical. It was admittedly a smart reaction, as what Luz was suggesting came very close to mixing magic from what she could tell, but she couldn’t deny it was enticing.

Luz gave her a reassuring grin. “Of course it will. Here, I’ll even help guide you through it.”

“O-okay.” With a shuddering breath, Willow slowly began forming her Abomination, Luz calmly walking her through each step.

As Luz oversaw Willow’s work, she briefly wondered what Eda and King were getting up to.

A massive crowd of Witches, Demons, and guards alike all cheered at the sight before them; a ring of fire in an open clearing, Eda the Owl Lady riding on the shoulders of a Bipedal hulk of light, a sword raised over head, her demon companion riding his own hulking mount, a spear clutched in his adorable fist. With matching bloodthirsty cries, the two goaded their servants to charge, weapons bared, while the crowd roared in delight behind them.

Luz shrugged, reasoning to herself that they couldn’t have gotten up to anything too crazy. As she saw Willow’s finished product, she couldn’t fight the genuinely impressed grin. Now, she was ready.

Amity Blight was annoyed. That was nothing unusual, not truly; the life she lived was a passionless one, save those few moments of genuine enjoyment she gained reading to the kids at the library, or when she could escape into her books. Even her scholastic achievements only brought some measure of satisfaction, and it was truly minor in the end. What currently was igniting her frustration, however, was the Witchling she was being forced to deal with.

“For the last time, Skara,” Amity growled. “I don’t care if Boscha is being aggressive. She’s ALWAYS aggressive!”

“But it’s different this time!” Skara, one of the Witches she was forced to endure on a daily basis, insisted. “Ever since she lost that fight, she’s been super different!” She glanced over to see Boscha, roughly pinning a Demon student against the wall, an ugly smile spread across her face.

Amity blinked, confused. “Boscha lost a fight?” That was certainly unusual. The arrogant Witch, though it wasn’t often unwarranted, was exceptionally aggressive in terms of combat-based magic, and thrived on competition. “How?”

“Well, we were walking through Bonesburough, when Boscha spotted the absolutely cutest demon!” Skara started, gushing slightly at the mention of the demon. Amity fought the urge to roll her eyes; Boscha’s weakness for cuteness, a stark contrast to her tough girl image, was an open secret, not that anyone was foolish enough to try and use it against her. Skara continued talking, “But before we could get in any cuddles or pics for Penstagram, the little guy’s minder took him back! And, she totally gave Boscha the brushoff!” 

Oof. Amity would freely admit to herself, that took an incredible amount of nerve; even those who didn’t know or know of Boscha found her presence intimidating. For someone to completely ignore the girl would take an impressive amount of nerve, and would’ve infuriated the feral jock to no end. “I’m assuming Boscha took exception to that?” Of course she did, but, for the sake of her sanity, it wouldn’t do to undercut the frustrating girl before her.

Skara nodded, oddly grave; Amity took notice of it for later. “Yeah. It was BRUTAL. This girl not only caught one of Boscha’s punches like it was nothing, but she blocked one of her best fireballs with a Light Spell of all things!” And at that, any interest Amity had in the conversation vanished.

With a scoff, Amity turned on her heel. “If you’re going to make up something new for the rumor mill, the least you could do is make it believable.” With a huff, Amity started walking to her class. She had better things to do than indulge the biggest gossip in school looking to stir up trouble.

“What!?” Skara yelped. “But Amity, I’m being serious!”

Amity stopped, turning to give Skara a Look. “Uh huh, right.” As if she’d buy that.

Skara huffed, a hint of red coloring her cheeks. “It’s true! Boscha got into a fight, she lost, and now she’s being super weird! How hard is that to believe!?” She flapped her arms in emphasis, desperate to gain some focus on what she was saying.

Amity crossed her arms, chin turned up in faux-thought. “Well, nothing you said was implausible…”

Skara started to cheer, only for it to die in her throat as Amity continued.

“But the fact that you claimed Boscha was beaten by a Light Spell, the absolutely most basic of magic spells Witches are taught, makes me think you are just trying to stir up drama. Like you always do.” With a disinterested sniff, Amity continued on her way.

“B-but Amity!” Skara cried.

Whirling on the other girl, her temper almost breaking, Amity growled. “No. Buts.”

Skara was instantly cowed, any words being swallowed as her face flooded with heat. “Y-yes, Amity.”

With a small smirk at the end to this latest annoyance, Amity walked to class, heedless of Skara’s efforts to pry Boscha away from the rapidly bluing Demon she was gripping around the throat, only for Boscha to freeze, releasing the Demon, as she slowly turned towards the center of the school, her eyes glowing a bloody red. The sooner Amity’s day was over, the better.

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Bailey!

You have been accepted for the role of ROSLALIA CLEARWATER with the facelaim change of Im Jinah! We were so excited to see someone interested in Rosalia. We think she’s such a multi-faceted character and you really brought her in life in your application. We cannot wait to see how her appearance back to the Order will change the dynamics here! Welcome to the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Bailey - she/her

AGE: 26

TIMEZONE: CST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I work full time so usually I’ll be on in the evenings and weekends. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say I should be able to get on around 3 times a week.

ANYTHING ELSE: triggers - animal abuse/cruelty/torture.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Rosalia Clearwater

AGE: 30 - December 12, 1951

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Female | She/Her | Bisexual

BLOOD STATUS: Half-Blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: Requesting a FC change from Jamie Chung to Im Jinah

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

 (tw: minor self harm)

PERSONALITY:

You know those girls you hear about - the ones that grew up with scrapes on their knees and branches in their hair, with wild smiles and honey sweet laughter? No concept of fear, the kind of girl who embraced everything the world threw at her with her feet planted firmly on the ground. Rosalia was once that girl - always ready to speak up and defend those that need defending, quick to fight and just as quickly settle down into a discussion.

She liked to have an understanding of those around her, how they thought and what drove them. It was maybe a more Ravenclaw trait but she found most confrontations didn’t escalate to the same extent if she heard someone out.

Not that she didn’t have opinions - she knew what she believed in and would do research to help support her ideas. Sometimes she’d get fixated on one idea and hold fast to it, that Gryffindor stubbornness settling into her veins. It would take examples and sources to change her mind at that point, not just an opinion. Of course, when it’s the minority (half-breeds and muggle born) there aren’t always the official resources to back up their experiences - biases run rampant throughout history.

She is a natural born leader and teacher - being the eldest of 4 definitely helped her develop those skills. It showed in her classes too - the ease with which she answered questions and how she would help others around her who were struggling, usually regardless of house. The Slytherin’s usually didn’t ask for help from her but if it happened, her answers were usually a little more clipped and there was a distrust in her eyes that wasn’t present with other houses.

Rosalia could definitely be rash in her decisions, jumping into a fight or conversation without knowing all the details. Most of the trouble she landed in was because she didn’t look before leaping.

She has learned over time to not only listen to what people are saying, but what they are not saying. Gaps in information and missing links usually mean something is fishy and she will never hesitate to prod a little if she feels there’s more to be said.

What do they struggle with?

As a child, she would ask question after question, regardless of how appropriate they were and without any regard for tact. The teachers in her muggle schools tried to train her out of it but it wasn’t until she went to Hogwarts that she truly began to see people from all walks of life and how her questions might affect someone. It was also the first place where her punishments stuck - detention in the muggle world would never compare to scrubbing out cauldrons for hours on end or polishing trophies until her hands were red and raw.

Over time, those relentless questions turned into a love of debate and she would eagerly

argue wixen politics or the rights of certain people or why the colour purple was clearly superior over all other colours. It was fun and it always felt like a contest and she did have a love of winning.

Her biggest struggle came around after she was hit by the curse. It wasn’t like breaking a bone, where the pain was immediate and overwhelming and recovery was slow going but the healing was obvious. No, this curse was more insidious - a dark mark forming on her bicep and over time spreading down to her fingers until her veins were dark and her fingertips black.

Slowly losing the mobility of her wand arm was debilitating - the magic thrummed in her veins but she wasn’t able to cast it, to release it to the world. And then one day, she woke up and couldn’t feel anything where the darkness was - no fizzy thrum of magic, no pinpricks of her sewing needles, not even the sensation as she dragged her sharpest knife along her forearm.

After fleeing Britain and the war, it took a very long time for Rosalia to be able to sleep through the night without dreaming of the night that sent her life into a tailspin. Even now, after all the work she put into her rehabilitation, a big part of her still doesn’t believe she will be able to be of use to the Order. What good is a wix with one good arm and unresolved trauma to an organization that is trying to save the wixen world?

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY: 

Growing up, she never knew her father. Her mother, Vanessa Clearwater, rarely talked about him other than to say that he was a muggle and they were better off without him. It was the same with the rest of her sisters - all of them had a different father, always muggle, and never present. Any time they would ask after any of their absent fathers, Vanessa would snap and send them off to do chores until they were exhausted.

It was a strict upbringing but not unpleasant by any stretch of the imagination. Vanessa instilled in each of them a sense of worth and confidence that would be hard to shake. Magic was intermittent among the girls: Rosalia was magical from the age of three, Violette didn’t manifest anything until her 8th birthday, Alysum was the late bloomer of all of them - her letter came as a surprise and her first year was a struggle, but she did manage to manifest magic. Her magic was always the weakest. And Poppy never showed any aptitude for magic. This meant that her entire family doted upon her and did their best to include her whenever they could, but there were some times that Poppy was excluded despite their best efforts.

Vanessa Clearwater: Mother

Rosalia Clearwater: Eldest

Violette Clearwater: 2nd born

Alysum Clearwater: 3rd born

Poppy Clearwater: 4th born

OCCUPATION: 

Rosalia doesn’t currently have an occupation. Before she fled Britain, she was a full time member of the Order and devoted all her time to the cause. Once she was set up in Brazil, she picked up a waitressing job in a muggle restaurant to pay for her rent and food. Now though, as she steps out into the familiar gloomy atmosphere of London, she has nothing. No occupation, no home - she’s not even sure if she’s still a member of the Order.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER: What is their purpose in the Order? How do they feel about the organization within a failing war? Remember, the Order is also an illegal vigilante organization and that can be difficult for characters to navigate.

It was her home. She was a defender, a light against the evils of the world and now she was nothing. A burden to the people she once called family and a liability if she were ever caught. The guilt haunts her - knowing the risk her actions and memory could have.

And still…some part of her wants to be welcomed back, to rejoin the people she loves. Time is short and survival isn’t guaranteed - the gut wrenching article she read in the Prophet confirmed that. The darkness was spreading and she had to get back out there on the front lines…even if it meant her death.

Penance by sacrifice - could she ever make it up to the Order for leaving? If not..she would give her life for those that hadn’t fallen. She would do all she could to pass on what she’d learned to other members of the Order but, as far as she was concerned, her life was tainted and although she was ready to fight, she knew that her life wasn’t worth the same as someone like James Potter.  

SURVIVAL: 

She fled to Brazil and for a while, could not practice her magic at all. Each spell was a fight and every time she reached for it, it felt tired and lethargic. She got set up in a muggle beach side town and started working in a restaurant to make enough to live. She’s going back to Britain now and to be honest, doesn’t intend to survive. Her survival is no longer on the table - the survival of the Light is all that matters now.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Fragile, non-existent, shattered - coming back, she doesn’t expect any sort of warm welcome. She misses them all though, her heart aching every time she thought of back home, thought of sending another owl, of just picking up and going back to the friends and family she once knew. But her dreams are haunted by their scorn, by their betrayal and she finds herself cowering away in her small bachelor room.

Moody - he was her friend, suspicious and rough and always on edge but someone she could trust with her life. And now….well, if he didn’t hex her on sight, she would think it was a miracle. If she could just talk with him, explain why she left how she did…maybe he’d at least give her the time of day.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: 

Note that there are no planned endgame ships set in this roleplay. There are a few characters who are in romantic relationships at the start of the game, but it will be up to players to decide if those relationships can survive the war. This question does not guarantee that any ship will happen, it is merely for fellow players to see where your interest might lie.

Really, anything organic. Will have to work through trauma - doesn’t intend to survive war - why make long term commitments? Open to old flames/exes as well, if we want to establish something from Hogwarts time or from before she fled the country. Could be almost anyone in Hogwarts time and after that time, anyone who was part of the Order. Would never have a relationship with a known death eater - I am down for twists and subterfuge and betrayal though along those lines.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Rosalia definitely has some biases that she got while attending Hogwarts. Competitive by nature, it only made sense to her that of course Gryffindors were better than Slytherins. You only had to look at how the Quidditch games went or where the Slytherin common room was located - the dungeons were creepy and gross and those thoughts just translated over to the students who lived there.

As time went on and she slowly had smaller courses with more classmates from different houses, her immediate disgust and distrust began to go away. She was more likely to treat her fellow Slytherin classmates with respect and even joked around with them, but if she ran into unfamiliar Slytherins in the halls, her gaze would harden and that suspicion would filter back in.

She’s grown a fair bit since her school days and having travelled, does understand that you can’t judge someone based on how they were sorted or who they were at a young age. Still, there are some microaggressions she can’t shake and it takes a purposeful thought process to correct herself when she notices them.

Muggles - Rosalia has two different trains of thoughts when it comes to non-magical folk. The first one is based on Poppy - the baby of the family and someone who needs to be protected. She doesn’t have the luxury of magic to rely on and she struggled a little more compared to the rest of her family. If Rosalia had to compare, she would say it was most similar to seeing a puppy on the side of the road in a box that needed a home.

The other train of thought stems from what Vanessa has told her about her father. How he didn’t want to be a part of her life, how unreliable he was, how much better off they are without him. It’s normal for muggle parents to be absent from their child’s life and Vanessa didn’t want that for any of her kids.

Living among muggles hasn’t warmed Rosalia’s heart to them. If anything, the resentful side of her has grown - working in a customer service role has shown her the worst side muggles have to offer.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 

Honestly, I was looking around different roleplays on tumblr and I really loved the premise of this group. I also liked how the plot drops really incorporated all characters involved and seems to include everyone.

I’ve also kept thinking about this group after I messaged the main a month ago about the potential FC change. I literally couldn’t get Rosalia out of my head.

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

I really like the idea of exploring the trauma and PTSD that Rosalia has and how this will affect her return to the Order. I also like the idea of her not succeeding when she initially returns and forcing her to deal with some of the trauma she’s been avoiding.

I also love the idea of getting her to a place where she can produce a full bodied patronus again as she hasn’t been able to since she was hit by the curse.

[stargazerinmoksha]

things to be thankful for;

a friend of mine once asked me “did you know that all healthy babies are a miracle?” it never once occurred to me that she was terrifyingly correct. anything can happen. a bump to the belly. if the mother is a smoker, if she decides to just cold turkey it could harm the baby. if the mother is an alcoholic, i’ve heard it’s the same. if she’s a drug addict? i don’t even want to think about that. you know to this day i still think depression is in my genes. somewhere hidden beneath all of the black hair and the tan skin, i’m sure it was always there waiting to get out. i guess what i’m really trying to say is, we need things like that though. a challenge. the ultimate emotional turmoil turn your skin inside out to really see what you’re made up kind of rollercoaster that wants to drop you 40 ft down hitting the ocean solar straight into hell kind of feelings, it just means that you’re alive. i was a healthy baby. i’m thankful for that. i have all of my limbs and i’m able to write. you’re able to read this, i’m thankful for that too. i’m trying to be more positive and this is a good start.

i don’t talk to as many people anymore, sometimes when i’m walking around i try to just look around as a means to avoid social interaction, maybe i’m just tired, possibly. maybe it’s because i don’t have anything good to say, maybe nobody wants to hear it. but the ability to self-reflect about why i feel such things. i know that no matter how many times i feel the need to just not talk, one day, i’ll open right back up. i just pray that there’s going to be someone willing to listen back. they say that you can’t change the world unless you’re willing to change yourself, i think the greatest lie we’ve been told is that we’re all alone, just us on this pale blue dot. that’s not true at all, we’ve got one another. no one knows what happens when we die, that’s a journey we’re all heading towards, it’s just a matter of when. so until that day comes and not a day sooner, i’ll try my best to be like the lively leaves upon a tree branch after a calm, cool breeze. i’m alive, that feels amazingly nice. let’s enjoy this while we still know what that feels like.

i’ve sketched enough flowers to see a detail that every single had. they’re all different. even the flowers from the same stem. even the same type of flowers. some may have a few more tears or rips than others, some are perfectly balanced, some are missing a few petals, some are late bloomers, some are wilting— when i stare at flowerpots, it has all of the answers. every single version of you will get a chance to properly exist. the sad one. the happy one. the joyful one. the successful one. the failure one. the ugly one. the gorgeous one. the lost one. the soulful one. they’ll all get a chance to breathe, it’s up to you to let them coexist in harmony, i find great pleasure seeing that simple fact. i believe that everything is going to be just fine as long as i am still here. for the longest time, i think i’ve lied to myself by saying constantly that i’m not afraid to die. but that’s a lie. the fear of death, from what i’ve read, is the most humble way to truly embrace life— knowing that while it’s so beautiful right now, in these tiny moments of love and rhymic universe pulling its strings for magic to enter your life... at any moment, it could just end, just like that. the fear of death keeps us together, death is always going to be at the end of the tunnel. so i’d like to live my life as how a good friend of mine would say “i ain’t here for a long time, i’m here for a good time.” he probably quoted somebody, life’s great like that. so go for a nice walk today and listen to your favorite song. do something that makes your body happy, something that will make your soul laugh, dance and smile. it’ll be well worth it.

you may have fucked up before. od’ed before. failed before, failed hard. failed again and again. hurt someone to the point where a conversation won’t fix anything. lied. cheated. maybe you weren’t there enough. didn’t call as often and they’re no longer around for you to even talk to. maybe you’ve settled for comfort and security, you want to know the craziest thing? there’s no such thing. the only thing that’s real is that fire in your belly because once it goes out, you go with it. you have to keep that shit burning no matter what. spend your whole entire existence trying to be better. love better. love harder. love yourself right. treat yourself with respect. with love. we’re such strange, sensual and beautiful beings, you know? it’s okay to fuck up sometimes. just take two steps back and analyze yourself. breathe. it’s going to be alright. i promise.

as always, i love you.

[subharryempire]

Hello! We hope you enjoy this omega Harry fic rec that includes over 70+ fics. Please remember to give authors comments and kudos for their amazing work. Happy reading!

1. When The Wolves Come Out by [ rosemarianthyme ] (1k)

It didn’t matter that Louis would never once pop a knot or that Harry’s slick was always artificial. When Harry was whining desperately against his neck and Louis was growling low in his chest he could only grab Harry’s hips and pant out 'Omega.'

2. Drape Me In Your Warmth by [ fookinglousers ] (2k)

TMH era fic where Harry is an omega whose heat comes a little earlier than expected and really, who is Louis to deny him his knot?

3. The Nearness of You by [ theweightofmywords ] (2k)

Harry and Louis' baby is due any moment. Harry just wants pretty toenails, and Louis just wants to help.

4. freaks from the internet by [ jaerie ] (2k)

Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex.

5. 'Cause Your Embrace Keeps Me Warmer by [ scribblewrite ] (3k)

Louis and Harry meet for the first time and, being soulmates, Louis's rut and Harry's heat are triggered. 

6. 5 Golden Rules by [ @iflovewereall ] (4k)

Harry thinks surely he hasn't got a chance with Louis, after all he's a gorgeous Alpha and royalty to boot. His salvation comes in the form of an antiquated guide to courtship.

7. taste on my tongue (just can't get enough of you) by [ messyjessy08 ] (4k)

Harry and Louis just had a baby and it's been a while since they've had sex.

8. Willow City by [ blahthelarry ] (4k)

Harry's got a secret. A secret so big that it could end his career before it even starts.

(Or the fic where Harry is an Omega, Louis isn't an Alpha, and Niall just wants someone to fuck.)

9. The World will Open its Arms by [ @lululawrence ] (4k)

Harry scrubbed at the countertop. It wasn’t even dirty, but it was three in the morning and the girl who was supposed to relieve him over an hour ago never showed. He was now on hour ten of his shift and his feet hurt and his back ached and he was trying not to cry, thanks to more fucking judgmental alpha truckers who could smell it on him.

Of course they could. He practically lived at the diner. The entire place reeked of it.

Unbonded pregnant omega.

10. I'd Go Out of My Way To Make Sure That You're Okay by [ littlepinkbow ] (4k)

Harry's embarrassed about going into heat, but Louis decides it's up to him to teach Harry to be more open about what he wants.

11. turn the sky black into a sky blue by [ thispieceofmind ] (5k)

Harry forgets that noses exist. Louis is a badass motherfucker. They bang.

12. Give Me What I'm Begging For by [ @sugarbabyomega ] (5k)

Omega Harry is a professor at a uni. Louis is his alpha mate, whose rut is coming up soon, so Harry has to take a week off from school to be with Louis. He tells his students it's a vacation but they all can tell the truth and tease him about it. Then Louis' rut comes and they both spend a week at home to fuck it out.

13.  Baby, Sweat is Guaranteed by [  sailingships ]  (5k)

Alternatively the one where Harry forgets a few doses of his suppressants and, consequently, goes into an unexpected heat at the Eagles concert whilst fulfilling publicity duties with Kendall Jenner. An entire afternoon of sex ensues and Harry just wants Louis to stay.

14. Too Hot (Hot Damn) by [ louissass ] (5k)

“I’m what?”

“You’re in heat, baby,” He repeats, frowning when he catches the look on Harry’s face. “I thought you realised?”

Or, the one where Harry goes into heat in the middle of a concert but doesn't realise because of the heatwave.

15. From Homeless To Being Loved by [ leonietjeeeee ](5k)

Harry is put on the streets after his parents found out he was an Omega. After years of being on the streets, so broken he wishes that death would come sooner, he meets boyband One Direction. And one member may turn out to be a little more than just a hero to Harry...

16. All these Lights, They can't Blind me by [ harlequinnharry ] (5k)

Harry's a singer song writer omega who doesn't want to mate. It's not until his new Manager Louis Tomlinson, that he reconsiders.

17. A Tentative Peace by [ colourexplosion ] (5k)

“I dunno.” Harry’s not whining, he’s not. He pulls himself free, finally, turns away and busies himself again with the dishes. “I didn’t want it to be weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Louis says, appearing in Harry’s periphery when he leans against the sink. “Biology, innit? You know I’m always here for you.”

It stings. Louis won’t sit and have a conversation with Harry, but sure, he’ll fuck him through a heat like it’s nothing. “It’s a little more than biology,” he mumbles, but Louis either doesn’t hear him (not likely) or flat out ignores him (very likely).

18. Peace So Sweet by [ @shyshyserious ] (5k)

Louis is visiting another pack. On his quest to find the guest room he finds a nesting omega instead.

19. Just Wanna Taste It by [ rosemarianthyme ] (5k)

“It gets you hot, doesn’t it Darling?” Louis asked and Harry whimpered softly. “You like imagining that I’m your alpha?” “Yeah,” Harry nodded, feeling as if he could cry. “You wanna be my omega, Baby?” Harry nodded again. His eyes were prickling with overwhelmed tears. “Want it,” he said, voice thick.

Harry loved being Louis’ baby, his good boy, but sometimes he wanted more. He wanted to be his omega.

A prequel to When The Wolves Come Out

20. your body's telling me don't let go  by [ @thepriestthinksitsthedevil ] (5k)

Louis gets off early from work on his birthday and surprises Harry with dinner and wine. Harry is pleasantly surprised, and even happier with it when he and Louis get up to some amorous activities.

21. How Much My Heart Depends by [ @lululawrence ] (6k)

Louis is an alpha working as a fraud analyst who keeps having Bad Days. Harry is an omega working in Quality Support who shares a cubicle wall with Louis and only wants to help. Maybe this is the perfect chance for them to finally meet face to face.

22. Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by [ WhiteClifford ] (6k)

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

23. Boys Fall Like Dominoes (6k)

Harry slips into an early heat while riding the tube. Naturally, that's when he meets Louis. 

24. to wrap me in paper by [ @juliusschmidt ] (6k)

Louis hasn't been keeping track of his ruts, but, it turns out, Harry has.

25. Between the Shadow and the Soul (6k)

Harry and Louis spend a month apart.

26. I heard this life is overrated, But I hope that it gets better as we go by [ louisnuggets ] (7k) 

"Harry this is not something we're going to argue about. I decided to do it. It's a sure thing." Harry remembered his words. The sure look in Louis eyes, the way he balled his fists, the way he talked. His Alpha voice coming through. Everything. How could he ever forget? It was one of the worst days of his life. After Harry's heat, which included five days of a lot of orgasms and even more cum, Louis and Harry had been laying in bed. Louis' knot slowly loosening in Harry. Harry's back against Louis' chest. Harry was sated and happy until Louis threw the bomb. "Baby I have to leave again. Longer this time. I know you don't like this but this is really important for my career." Some may think, what's so horrible about that? But Harry knew what that meant. It meant Louis would leave. 

27. Put It Into Words (7k)

“It’s a good storm though, our families,” Louis says, flopping down on to the bed and cuddling close to Harry. He tucks his arm around Harry’s waist, kissing his temple. “The Cheshire house is perfect to raise the baby; your mum’s close, and my mum can stay in the guest bedroom when she visits.”

“And until then we have the long weekend to ourselves.”

Or, Harry and Louis go on a babymoon.

28. Looking In The Dark (7k)

This carries on from the same verse of Boys Fall Like Dominoes.

29. This Thing Upon Me (howls like a beast) by [ @sadaveniren ] (8k)

Harry and Louis weren’t meant to be together. They’d met when they were put together through their university’s AO MatchUp, a program that set up alphas and omegas based on the schedules of their ruts and heats so they had someone to help them through it. It was pure luck that they were put together.

30. drunk on rose water by [ brainwaves ] (9k)

It’s the first time in a few years that Harry has a strong desire to risk everything for something he loves.

The last time, it was being a fashion model. This time, it’s Louis.

31. Even Your Honey Dew by [ @horsegirlharry ] (9k)

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

32. And I Will Steady Your Hand by [ kiwikero ](9k)

All first year university students who had not yet presented were strongly advised to join the Fire Away meetings, a support group for so-called 'late bloomers.'

They were not, however, advised to fall in love with someone else at the meetings without knowing what they might eventually present as.

33. You Know I'll Be by [ JustAnotherShadow503 ](9k)

Louis Tomlinson, 27, is the personal photographer for well-known model Harry Styles, 21. Louis, an Alpha, has been in love with Harry for years, though the younger man has seemingly not presented yet.

Or, the one where Louis is in love with Harry, tries to be a martyr at his own expense, and is a hopeless romantic.

34. Just Jump by [ jaerie ] (9k)

Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

35. with his educated eyes (and his head between my thighs) (9k)

"We're...we're not the same," Harry says softly, looking at his hands. "I don't care," Louis replies back, fire and fury in his eyes.

or where Harry is just a little boy in a world full of arseholes, Louis is in way over his head, and destiny is a bunch of shit.

36. All I Needed by [  FallingLikeThis ] (9k)

Harry is the omega captain of the Slytherin quidditch team with a team that won't listen to him. Louis is the alpha captain of the Gryffindor team who doesn't know how to offer help without seeming like a knothead, pushing his opinions on Harry. When he comes up with a rather questionable plan to try and get Harry to ask him for help, they may just both get what they need.

37. you took your toll on me (you got a hold on me) by [ messyjessy08 ] (9k)

Harry and Louis have the weekend to themselves, they make the most of it.

38. I Just Want You to Stay by [ SadaVeniren ] (34k)

“Remember the vet job up in Edinburgh I interviewed for right before your rut?” Louis nodded. “She just called me back. I got the job. I start next year.” Harry let out a shriek as he said the word year and he clapped his hands in delight. “Isn’t that great! Full time vet job! New animals to meet! A new environment!” He settled his eyes back on Louis, who was still standing there in front of him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it great, Lou?”

That seemed to jolt Louis out of his thoughts and he nodded immediately, opening his arms up for Harry to dive into. “Holy shit, yes. Congratulations. Come here,” he wrapped his arms around Harry and cuddled him close, pressing his nose into Harry’s neck. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

aka Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

39. I Can't Hear You by [ @flamboyantommo ] (9k)

"I’m not supposed to be built this way!" Harry said. "I’m supposed to be shorter than you, and you’re supposed to be stronger than me and-“ “Harry!” Louis tried to interrupt. “And what if I’m not supposed to be an omega? What if my body screwed up somewhere or something? What if I’m not supposed to be your omega?” --- Or, the one where Harry is self-conscious about his body because it's not the 'typical omega body' and Louis shows him why he loves that.

40. Dear Blue by [ TheIfInLife ] (9k)

Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting to be on the living room table but a stack of papers definitely wasn’t it.

The paper on top was a plain piece of notebook paper, Louis’ scrawl all over it.

41. A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver by [ @horsegirlharry ] (10k)

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

42. resolutions and lovers in the kitchen (10k)

harry teaches little kids and louis writes sports articles. they're trying for a baby.

43. Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by [ @harrysspookyshorts ] (10k)

"It's gonna be perfect," Harry whispers, taking Louis' face in both of his hands, nosing close but not yet kissing him. "Always is. You always make everything perfect."

"Good. Whenever your heat finally kicks in, I'll make sure to treat you perfectly too... I'm gonna bond you so hard."

or, Harry's heat is coming up and they've planned to finally bond, so Louis decides to plan a very eventful and loving week leading to said bonding.

44. through the wire by [ @a-writerwrites ] (10k)

“Mate. He’s like. I don’t know how to describe it.” Liam’s voice was on edge, a tremble in it that indicated he was either very nervous or extremely excited; unsure of what to do next. It was probably both.

All Harry could think about was LouisLouisLouis. He needed him so badly his body ached with it. His skin was crawling and his entire body felt explosive, ready to ignite at the slightest touch.

“Ok. Li? This is what you are going to do…” Louis took a deep breath, the intake of air audible through the wire, as he prepared to guide Liam through what was probably going to be the strangest most erotic, and possibly most awkward experience of his life.

45. Make It Work by [ fanshae ] (10k)

Arranged marriage AU. Harry is an omega who has reached the age where he must be married due to his family's income status. Only the aristocratic omegas are exempt. His parents try to hide him but eventually the government gets word and in punishment, gives the omega to a spoiled aristocrat son of a lord, Louis. Louis is more than thrilled to have his own omega and once Harry goes into heat, he explores the boy with fascination and unintentionally impregnates him. This leads to a boy used to living carefree and drinking the day away with other nobles to having to face fatherhood.

46. Our Lips Are Made Of Candy by [ Waking_dreams ] (10k)

“Your knot, please, Louis,” he managed to whine. He needed it, that extra stretch and burn that made him Louis’.

“Fuck,” Louis moaned, and his thrusts became unsteady. “Can’t do it here, baby, Hazza, can’t—“

Or, Harry accidentally missed a few doses of his medicine that controls his heat and starts his heat in the middle of Biology. Oops

47. The Bond That Can't Be Broken by [ louisgrindsonharry ] (10k)

Louis’ an alpha and Harry’s an omega. They never really stood a chance.

48. i'll be hurt from the heat (running from the heat) by [ itiswhatitisbutterfly ] (11k)

It's engrained into him, nothing else matters, protecting Harry at all costs is what pumps his heart and floods his veins. It’s just, he didn't count on the one thing Harry would need protecting from would be himself.

(Harry and Louis are in love, and they are probably soul mates. They just can’t be bond mates because despite the undeniable pull, it's them against the world.)

49. Fill My Heart With Sweetness by [ harryisquirkeh ] (11k)

Harry's a late bloomer, but since his luck is shit, it's no surprise that he'd be the last to get a heat, but the first to get pregnant. In high school.

50. I’ve Always Liked the Fireworks by [ @becomeawendybird ] (12k)

When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be. The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

51. Come In and Change My Life by [ lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) ] (12k)

He’d had the same neighbours since he’d moved into the building, a lovely, wealthy couple in their late sixties who had always invited him around for tea on Sundays. Martha had dropped off homemade biscuits the day he’d moved in, so Harry figured he may as well repeat the sentiment. He could hear someone getting closer to the door just as a flush ran through his body; oh fuck. His heat was close, too close to be knocking on a potentially unknown alpha’s door, but it was too late. The door swung open, and Harry’s mouth dropped. He’d never been overly interested in football, couldn’t find the fascination in watching men run around after a ball for hours aside from their uniforms, but he knew who this was. Louis Tomlinson, alpha, captain of Manchester United, star in a number of Harry’s heat addled fantasies, was his new next-door neighbour.

Or, Harry and Louis become friends when Harry looks after Louis' cat during away games, until one night at a party changes everything between them. It's just a shame Louis' going to be away for the FIFA World Cup for three months.

52. come on over, we've got something to share by [ jaerie ] (12k)

Even as an unbonded omega with a four year old, Harry had everything he needed. His beautiful son, a nice apartment, money to pay the bills -- oh, and an alpha next door always willing to knot his brains out.

53. Bentley Station, Now Arriving by @londonfoginacup (13k)

Harry Styles, omega. Owns a bakery on a train station in the middle of nowhere.

Niall Horan, meddling friend who wont leave him or his love life alone.

(lack of love life).

There's a ball coming up, and Harry is going to attend. Niall will make certain of that.

54. Christmas, Baby by [ nikogda ] (13k)

His life was going exactly how he’d wanted it. Exactly how he’d planned it. According to his life plan, he would be adopting a puppy in the next year.

Except one little detail. Harry was holding a positive pregnancy test. He was going to have a baby. He blinked a few times He, Harry Styles - husband and omega to Louis Tomlinson - would be carrying a human inside of him.

“How?” Harry asked himself as he shook the plastic stick a few times as if the results would magically turn negative. Or, The one where the exact thing that Harry thinks is derailing his life plan might be exactly what he needs.

55. Next To You by [ @homeofsavannahblue ] (14k)

When Harry Styles won the X-Factor he quickly became the latest pop sensation. When Louis runs into him at a party, he quickly realizes that Harry Styles is nothing like his reputation of womanizing alpha. Turns out, Harry Styles is an omega. And Louis' mate.

A story about love, support and being proud of who you are.

56. Restless Lane by [ lululawrence ] (14k)

Louis had grown used to his boring life back in Mississippi as a stand-in father figure to his siblings. He never expected his childhood friend to show up on his lawn with the heat of summer or that he would remind Louis how much of himself he'd tucked away and neglected. He also never expected to find himself caught up in a tangled web of feelings or secrets that just might break him. Maybe he had never known Harry at all.

57. Prince Harry and the Expert in Motorcycle Maintenance by [ @juliusschmidt ] (16k)

Louis puts the truck back into drive. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where do you want me to take you?”

“To the Royal Palace.”

“The hospital psych ward, it is, then,” Louis says, though that’s a forty-five minute trip and a lecture on tardiness from his stepfather that, in the end, will definitely not be worth the trouble.

an abo cinderella au in which prince harry rides a motorcycle and louis, a simple mechanic, fixes it.

58. Stars Will Align For Us by [ @2tiedships2 ] (16k)

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

59. and the truth shall set you free (...maybe) by [  jaerie ] (17k)

Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega

Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.

60. I Want You S'more by [ 2tiedships2 ] (17k)

“I think Harry’s like a wanna-be alpha,” Louis stated as he handed over Niall’s nachos.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean, as the alpha in this, um, possible platonic friendship, I’m supposed to be the one initiating any flirting. In a platonic way. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of the omega and sending off calming pheromones.”

“For argument’s sake, are you living in the eighteenth century? Maybe even nineteenth century?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mate, it’s the twenty-first century. Sure, most alphas insist on taking the lead and taking full control over their omega. Like, they’re always wanting to be the one to comfort and take care of the omega. Which is cool and all. But can’t it be the other way around? Or at least compromise?”

Louis shoved a couple nachos in his mouth to avoid responding.

Or the one where the least alpha-y alpha and the least omega-y omega show that secondary genders aren’t set in stone and sometimes it works when you kinda share that.

61. Love will tear us apart by [ notasawrap ] (20k)

"Look, alpha," the green-eyed man starts contemptuously. "I know you're upset and that this sucks, I fucking know.” Harry breathes deeply. "I'm trying to do my best because she hasn’t stopped asking about you since yesterday, but I cannot do much if with everything I say, you're gonna react like a psychopath or whatever. I don't know what you want, Louis!" He alleges frustrated. "And if you just stop acting impulsively -contain your instincts or whatever, we could solve this in a way that benefits all of us, but if you're not willing to do that, the best thing is going to be to forget you even know about this." Harry ends up, turning to leave, but is again stopped by the alpha, his grip much softer this time.

"I want to meet her." Louis recognizes, more calmly. His scent slightly softer than before. It momentarily catches Harry in a spiral, but he drives away the sensation and concentrates on looking at the alpha.

"I know." He says sincere. He had expected it. "So does she."

or Louis and Harry have a past and now it's time to face it.

62. solid as a stone (when everything is gone) by [ louisnights ] (20k)

“Why’d you take me with you?”

Louis startles at the question, the car almost swerving off the road in the process. He holds his breath as he waits for the twins to wake up and start wailing, but they don’t. They keep sleeping on peacefully, covered in the family blanket.

Harry’s looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Louis takes a minute, mulling it over. He answers quietly. “I hate to say it, but as much as we hate each other, I can’t bear to leave you alone to deal with this whole thing all by yourself.” and I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you died, he adds in his mind.

or, it's the zombie apocalypse and Louis is stuck with Harry, with whom he shares a complicated relationship with.

63. hard to confess by [ @hereforlou ] (24k)

One, they only did it without a condom once (and a half) and not during his heat. Never during his heat. Two, he never once forgot to take his birth control (he’s almost sure). Three, his plan is to be married for a year before he even starts trying for a baby, and not only is he very, very single, him and Louis aren’t even sleeping together anymore. Which brings him to reason number four why this can’t be happening: Louis. Louis doesn’t want a baby with Harry.

(Or, the one where Harry knows he messed up and Louis knows nothing.)

64. Stay Close, Hold Steady by [  jaerie ] (26k)

Found on the banks of the Mississippi as an toddler, Harry goes on a quest to find his biological family. Louis tries to be supportive, but maybe he just doesn't want to be left behind.

65. Let’s Embrace The Point Of No Return by [ sweaterpawstyles ] (33k)

Louis was a whole new scale of beautiful, he was richer than Harry could've ever imagined, and he was the most powerful, dominant alpha that Harry had ever come in contact with. The only problem now is that Louis is also Harry's boss.

Louis believed Harry was an alpha, and had no idea about how he had lied about his status just to get an interview with Louis. He was in too deep now and he couldn't look back.

Or

Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

66. All These Lights by [  MediaWhore ] (34k)

“People vote for alphas because they’re strong and they’re not only beautiful but also mesmerizing. They make you want to give them all of your attention, make you want to beg for some of theirs back. They’re shiny, oozing sex appeal and a commanding presence, and people always want more and more. Omegas are enticing too for sure, but it’s not the same. It makes people uncomfortable. It doesn’t make them want to root for you.”

the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.

67. I Sail With You by [ @afangirlfantasy ] (35k)

Against his wishes, Omega Prince Harry Styles is arranged to mate with someone he doesn’t love, much less knows. Though he pleaded to his parents incessantly, they not only refuse to comply but force him to depart on a ship days later. Harry prays for fate to step in, to change what’s to come, however, the answer he is given is not exactly in the form he had hoped.

Enter Will Tommo – deadliest pirate captain of all seven seas.

68. Watch the Sun Coming Up by [ @sadaveniren ] (36k)

As Louis approaches his thirtieth birthday his pack is desperate for him to find a mate.

Harry has always expected one day he may settle down with a nice alpha and they would continue to live in his small hometown.

Together they somehow will make this work.

69. I Think You're Already Home by [ jaerie ] (38k)

Seeing Louis Tomlinson today, it would be hard to guess that he was ever once a member of the world's most famous boyband. These days he doesn't even the leave his own house. The truth is he can't leave his own house. He can't even remember the last time just standing at an open door didn't send him into a debilitating panic attack. But, against his friend's advice, Louis is ready to add meaning to his life again. He's ready to start a family. So what if he doesn't have an omega? There are plenty of surrogacy services just waiting to help the rich and famous become parents. He just has to find the right one for the job.

70. We Got The World Shaking by [ FutureMrsHaroldStyles ] (39k)

Suddenly Louis is taking Harry’s hand in his own and turns to his sister. “I’m taking him to my room. Don’t worry I’m going to take care of him. Now go and enjoy your party, little sis!” And with that Louis leads Harry to the elevator. The thoughts in Harry’s head are going wild but they all come down to Fuck am I really gonna spend my heat with Louis Tomlinson?

Or the one where Harry goes into heat at his best friend Lottie's birthday party and her big brother helps him out.

71. Seeing Blind by [ @sugarbabyomega ] (46k)

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

72. I'll Be Here Waiting on Forever by [ sweaterpawstyles ] (46k)

A Romeo and Juliet AU where Louis is an alpha prince who falls in love with Harry, an omega prince from the neighboring kingdom

73. Si Pudiera Volar by [ messofgorgeouschaos ] (68k)

When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.

Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

74.  A Distant Hazy Light by [ green_feelings ] (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

75. Face Your Fears by [ SadaVeniren ] (92k)

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

76. Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by [ angelichl ] (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

77. Take Me As I Am by [ lovelarry10 ] (117k)

“Suppressant? But… why would I need a suppressant? Alphas don’t take suppressants.”

“You’re right, they don’t.”

****

Secrets. Lies. Deception. Betrayal. Self-discovery.

Alpha. Omega. How far will they go to hide the truth?

78. But Please, Don't Bite by [ @shyshyserious ] (122k)

"Melodic little jingle sounded from a bell hanging over the doorframe and warm indoor air curled heavily around his shivering body for the first time in months. Harry suddenly felt a sting in the corners of his eyes and had to force down a broken sob. Fuck, he was a mess. Such a mess. He had to focus." 

79. sometimes green and sometimes blue by [ itsmiz ] (511k)

Harry's an omega, and Louis is an Alpha. They're best friends growing up together on the outskirts of Washington, D.C., but they've always been a bit more than friends.

[cygnetofthesea]

The Fight In Us: WA AU Fic

A fic I started writing exactly a year ago but never posted for some reason. Hope you guys enjoy it! On AO3

High school-WA

There was a loud crash of what sounded like bodies colliding that jolted Iris out of her thoughts.  She looked over to the source but a crowd had already formed, blocking her view of what she imagined was yet another fight at Central City High.

With a roll of her eyes, Iris looked away and resumed picking at her lunch.  It was a beautiful day out in the quad and she was feeling a little peeved that some idiots decided to settle scores with their fists.

"Holy shit, Iris, that scrawny kid is pummeling the big dude," Linda exclaimed.  

Linda was new to the school and didn't quite know everyone's names yet but Iris knew exactly who she was talking about as her heart thudded in her chest.  She looked over and sure enough, as the crowd spread out, Iris caught a flash of thick brown hair and pale hands before disappearing from view again.

"Who is that?" Linda asked.

Iris sighed deeply and rolled her eyes even as her heart fluttered.  "My ex."

"Wait, what?  You dated that guy?"

Iris didn't answer, watching as the crowd cheered, her legs suddenly bouncing up and down anxiously.  She wrung her fingers, contemplating, before letting out another sigh that sounded more like a groan and getting up.

She marched up to the crowd her jaws set, eyes flashing in irritation.  It was that anger and frustration that fueled her strength as she manhandled bodies out of the way, ignoring the cries of "Hey!"

By the time she made it to the front of the crowd, her ex-boyfriend Barry Allen was straddling Tony Woodward, his fist raised, rearing back to land another punch into him.

"Barry!"

Barry's fist stopped abruptly halfway toward its target, his head snapping up to look at her.  And like a switch flipping, his eyebrows relaxed from their previously furrowed state and a wide grin formed on his split lips.  There's a bright red splotch on his cheekbone where she knows a bruise would be blooming by the end of their lunch period.  Her stomach twists at the sight.

"Iris," he said breathlessly.  "Hey, baby."

The endearment slipped past his lips so effortlessly despite the fact that by conventional definitions, she was no longer his, just as he was no longer hers.  Iris hates the flutter in her heart at the sight of his happy smile, that smile that was reserved just for her.  But, she ignored it as she crossed her arms and looked at him sternly.

It took great effort to keep the scowl on her face and to ignore the flutter at his starry gaze upon her face. He was looking at her as though he was in awe of her and it simultaneously frustrated and thrilled her. But thankfully, she was able to shove aside her treacherous heart and use her brain.

"Barry, what are you doing?  Get off of him."

Barry clumsily got off of Tony, his eyes on her with that same damn heart-melting smile.  He steps over Tony's prone body as he made his way toward her while the crowd around them dissipated with disappointment. He trips over his own feet before straightening and Iris absolutely hates how that makes her heart squeeze in a way only Barry could.

(She actually really loves it.)

"Iris hi," he breathed, his eyes dazed and taking her in, flickering across her face.

"Barry," she said airily.  "Up to your old antics, I see?"

His eyes widened as he looks behind him where Tony Woodward lay, groaning.  His buddy was crouched over him, sending a glare Barry's way.

"No, I-that's not, that's not what it looks like, Iris."

"No?  Because it looked like you were pummeling Tony Woodward.  That's not what happened?"

"I mean, it is," he relented anxiously, "but it's not-what I mean to say is that I haven't been in a fight in a really long time. The whole time you were gone, I've been good, I promise."

Iris looked at him skeptically through narrowed eyes. "Ok, so do you want to tell me what that was all about?"

Barry fidgeted under her gaze, fiddling with the hem of his plaid button down as he shuffled his feet nervously. He glanced around before taking Iris's wrist softly in his hand. Iris had to suppress the gasp that threatened to slip out at his touch. It was the first time in too long that she had felt his hands on her skin and her heart ached at just how much she missed it.

"Um, is it alright if we talk somewhere else? I have a feeling Tony's going to be pissed and go for round two when he comes to."

"Yeah, sure," she said shakily, failing to sound nonchalant. She slips her wrist from his hold and ignored the hurt look on his face even as it cut through her.

They walked quietly side by side away from the loud cacophony of the courtyard as they made their way inside the school. After what feels like an eternity in which Iris had to fight the urge to burrow herself in his embrace, he finally spoke.

"Um, it's really good to see you.  You look great."

"Thank you, you do too." And he did.  He didn’t look much different since she last saw him seven months ago, but there were small changes like the thickness of his hair, the slight stubble that apparently was finally appearing.

Iris remembered when Barry would complain about being a late bloomer in the ninth grade while fellow male classmates were already sporting scruffs and his face remained baby smooth. She had giggled and slid her palms across his soft cheeks, telling him how much she loved his face anyway as she punctuated the words with kisses on his skin.

It was strange to see the stubble now, months later. It felt like years had passed instead of mere months.

He blushed at her compliment and looks at her with a smile. "How was the program in France?"

For a moment Iris forgot all about the awkwardness between them as her eyes lit up in excitement.  "Oh, it was amazing!" Iris exclaimed. "Seven months was definitely not enough. But, by the end of my stay, I was able to speak to the locals in almost perfect French, so I’m pretty happy about that."

"That's amazing. Now you can curse at me in French and I'd never know," Barry laughed.

"I wouldn't do that.  But, Barry it was just unbelievable and my media studies teacher was incredible. So smart, so witty, and funny. I swear, everyone should aspire to be like her." And before she could think about it, the words slipped out. "I wish you had been there."

He stopped abruptly in place and looked at her with an unreadable expression. After a moment of hesitation, he took her hand and pulled her closer to the lockers away from any passerby.

"Iris, there's something I need to tell you."

"Bar—"

"Allen!"

Barry and Iris looked to their right in unison at the sound of the voice, only to see the school's security guard walking toward them.

"Hey Mr. Albert," Barry said sheepishly.  "Guess you heard, huh?"  

Mr. Albert planted his hands on his hips, making him appear more imposing than he already did. He always had a snobby attitude that most students hated, but somehow over time, Barry and Mr. Albert developed some kind of camaraderie. Although, at the moment, it looked like Mr. Albert wasn’t in the joking mood.

"Yup and so did the principle.  He wants to see you in his office.  You too, West, you're a witness."

Iris furrowed her brows.  She had barely seen anything, but as she took in Barry's glum face she sighed inwardly, knowing there was no way she'd be able to ever turn her back on him in a time of need.

Barry sighed and glumly nodded his head walking toward Mr. Albert who ripped out a slip from his notebook and handed it to Barry.  "Come on, Allen, I thought you knew better than this."

"I know, I know," he mumbles.

“You were doing so well. What the hell happened?” Mr. Albert asked.

Barry shrugged and simply looked down at his feet. Mr. Albert looked at him in pity and nodded toward Singh’s office. “Off you go. There’s only so many times we can let you off the hook, Allen.”

Barry nodded and took the slip before heading toward Singh’s office. Mr. Albert looks at Iris with raised brows before huffing out a laugh and walking away.

As Iris followed after Barry, she couldn't help admonishing him. "See, this is what fighting gets you.  How many times have I told you, using your fists in not the way to solve problems, Barry. People are assholes and will always be, but it doesn't mean you start pummeling them to prove a point. You think Tony's going to suddenly see the error of his ways after gaining a couple of bruises? That he's going to suddenly go 'Ah Barry, man you were right, I'm going to stop being a dick'?"

Barry brushed his hands against his hair with anxious fingers, a tick Iris recognized as a nervous habit.  "I know it was wrong. And Iris, I really have been working on controlling my temper.  I just…" he sighed before letting out a groan, scrunching his eyes shut. "He's just…what he said, he's just fucking scum."

Iris watched as he balled his hands into fists, his hall pass crumpling in his hands. She put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. "Hey, Barry, just take a breath. It’s ok."

Barry inhaled deeply before slowly letting it out, his fingers relaxing.

They finally made it to the principal's office and braced themselves. Principle Singh looked up with a bored expression.  

"Barry Allen, the star student with a temper." He turned to Iris. "And our other star student who intervened is what I hear through the grapevine."

"Hardly. I didn't get in the middle of the brawl if that’s you're thinking."

"No, not at all," he said with a smile. "But, maybe you can add to Mr. Allen's story."

"I thought I was here because I'm in trouble," Barry said.

"Oh you are, but I'm a believer of hearing all sides of the story. So why don't you start and tell me just what went down?"

Barry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sneaking furtive glances at Iris.  "Uh Tony was um, just mouthing off and it…made me angry?" he finished lamely.

Iris shot him an annoyed look at his pathetic excuse.

"Well, Allen, judging by the fact that Mr. Woodward is currently in the nurse's office with a black eye, yeah I'd hazard a guess that he made you angry. What was it that he said to provoke you?"

Barry stammered, "It's-it's nothing, it was just stupid stuff that he always says. I mean it's Tony Woodward, he's a bully."

"Well, some would say you're the bully in this case."

"What?!" Barry exclaimed. He sat up in his seat, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair.  "That is not true. How is self-defense considered bullying now?"

"Yeah, I'm failing to see how when pitted against Tony Woodward, Barry would be considered the bully here," Iris interjected. "That kid has a reputation that precedes him and Barry is actually someone who stands up to him."

She felt the tension rise on her back at the thought of Barry being accused of being a bully. Barry Allen may be a little too quick to throw a punch, but he was the sweetest guy she knew. If only he knew how to get his temper under control.

"Now, I'm not accusing you of being a bully Barry, I'm fully aware of Mr. Woodward's history.  What I'm trying to say is that if you stoop to the level of bullies, how are you any different?  How are you going to set an example of what the right thing is?" Singh asked giving him a knowing look. "Answer me honestly, who threw the first punch?"

Barry's leg bounced up and down rapidly before he finally sighed and relented.  "It was me."

"Why?"  Singh opened a folder on his desk and brandished a sheet of paper. "See this? You've gone nine months without incident. Nine months and no fights. What was it that backtracked that progress?"

"Look, I understand the error of my ways, do we really need a play-by-play? Can we just skip to my punishment?"

"Why aren't you telling me what he said?"

Barry's eyes flickered to Iris and she furrowed her brows in confusion as Singh looked between them. His own face cleared and he nodded in understanding.  "Ok. You can take it up with Ms. Horton in guidance, but don't let it happen again, Allen. You're too good of a kid to have his permanent record be tarnished by suspensions. You've got detention for the next two days."

Barry looked up in surprise.  "Whoa, t-thanks Principle Singh."

"Don't mention it.  Just," he lets out a sigh and looks at Barry meaningfully.  "Look, Barry, you're a good kid and I know if you channel that energy and anger into helping people like I know you want to, you're going to achieve great things. I see a really bright future for you and that makes me all the more disappointed when I see you getting into these kinds of trouble. If Tony gives you trouble, come to me and we'll deal with it. That's my duty, just as it is yours to get the most of this school and set a positive example for your peers. Do you understand?"

Iris turned to look at Barry and it appeared he was just as surprised by the meaningful speech as she was.  She knew Singh was one of the good ones, but she never saw him as expressive as in that moment.

Barry nods in jerky movements. "Yeah, of course. Thanks, Principle Singh.  I-I'm going to do better."

"I know you will. You're both free to go."

Iris led the way as a dazed Barry followed behind. She looked at him and could see the shame on his face and felt her heart clench in her chest.  She took his hand in hers.

"Hey, you ok?"

Barry cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "Yeah, I'm ok." He was quiet for a moment. "Just reminded me of dad for a moment there."

She looked at him in concern and pulled him into an empty classroom. "You know he would have been so proud of you."

Barry scoffed as he leaned against the teacher's desk, looking away from her. "Dad was happy I knew how to stand up for myself and others, but he wouldn't exactly approve of this. Multiple detentions and almost-suspensions? Not exactly a star of a student as Singh thinks."

"I mean, yeah the fists need to stay down," she said, watching as his lips curl the tiniest bit. "But come on, Bar, you always, always have the best of intentions. You're always looking to stand up for people and it's honestly why I fell in love with you."

He looked at her hopefully.  "Yeah?"

She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder. "Oh you really didn't know that?" she teased, hopping onto the desk beside him.

Het let out a light laugh as he straightened and moved closer to her, the clouds in his eyes fading.  

"I miss you, Iris and I have changed. I know I didn't do a good job of showing it by getting into a fight on the first day of school, but I was mad that you had heard what he said and I just…" he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "I couldn't stand it and I know that's not a good excuse, but Iris, I really am trying."

Iris looked up, her legs swinging back and forth as she took in his words. A soft, warm glow filled her heart at the sight of his earnest face. That sweet face that was hard not to love.

"I know you are," she said quietly. “Even before I left, I saw it."

"Because you were right, Iris. I wasn't dealing with what happened to my dad, but I'm working on it."

"Yeah?"

Barry nodded, playing with his fingers. "Yeah, I've um...I’ve been seeing someone. Mom found this therapist a year ago and I finally decided to go."

Iris looked at him, her heart filling with happiness."Oh, Barry, I'm so happy to hear that.”

She reached over and placed her hand over his fidgeting ones until they stilled.

He let out a deep sigh. “I think I was scaring mom. I finally saw it when I caught her crying over the family album. I knew she wouldn’t want me to see but I couldn’t leave her that and we finally talked. I realized that she was trying to spare me and it hurt me to see her hiding her grief and I imagined she felt the same about me. "

Her heart clenched in her chest thinking about Mrs. Allen. She always had that beautiful smile on her face for as long as Iris knew her and when Mr. Allen died, the smile dimmed. She put on a great act for her and Barry, but Iris could see that it wasn’t as bright as before, like a light had been turned off. It broke her heart to see Barry broken, but it hurt just as much to see the woman who had become a maternal figure in her life lose her soulmate and try to raise an angry boy on her own. But Iris was determined to be there for Mrs. Allen just as much as she would be for Barry.

“I’m really glad for you both.”

Barry looked down at their joined hands and slowly laced his fingers with hers. "Iris?"

She held her breath, savoring his touch. She hadn't realized how she had been starved for his touch until that moment. There wasn't a day that went by she hadn't thought of him, but in the midst of exploring France and keeping up with her classes, she couldn't think about being in a relationship. While her classmates gushed about meeting French boys and wishing for romantic evenings, Iris only allowed Barry to invade her thoughts for a brief moment before she scolded herself about getting distracted.

But sitting there so close beside him, his soft, warm hands against her own, Iris felt her heart ache as she let those feelings wash over her.

"Yeah?" she finally responded.

"I've really missed you."

"I've missed you too."

He hesitated before gripping her fingers tighter. "Do you…do you think that maybe, I don't know, that we could maybe…go get some ice cream tonight? Or I don’t know, we could go to that Thai place we like instead of ice cream, or we could do both. I mean, that's if you're in the mood for either or there's that Turkish place too. I haven’t had kebabs in ages and they have that great spinach pie you like, I mean we can do any of it or all of—"

He broke off at her gentle laugh.  "Ice cream would be good. Mom already made her famous spicy chili so I can meet you after."

He nodded agreeably before slowly shrugging his shoulder.  "Or I…I could pick you up?" he asked tentatively, looking at her from under his lashes.

Iris nodded with a soft smile. “I’d like that,” she said. “Can you promise me something, Barry?”

“Of course,” he said eagerly.

“Can we make a promise to each other to be open and always communicate with one another? I love you, but I can’t watch you hurt yourself and not talk to me about what you’re going through. No one is invincible and we should be able to talk to each other. Deal?”

He brought her hand to his chest and rested his forehead against her while keeping his gaze steady on her. “I promise you, Iris. I’ve hurt you and my mother enough and I’m done with that.”

She closed the distance between them, her lips touching his. She can feel his gasp against her just as well as she could hear it.

“Ok,” she whispered.

“Ok”

[saltydemonloves]

Runaway Witch: CH. 1

“I didn’t mean to! I-I don’t even know how I did it!” My mother seemed to ignore me as she stormed past me. It felt like a thousand knives were stabbing me in my chest as she did. I chased after her into our small house, “Mom!”

She suddenly spins and grabs me by my shoulders, I stood shocked at the frantic and scared look in her eyes. “I’ve already talked to Paul,” she says through clenched teeth. “We’ve come to an agreement. You are packing your stuff and leaving.” She spits out the last word before pulling away from me. I catch the disgusted glimpse she gives her hands. As if she’d just touched a heap of seeping garbage.

Desperate I still chase after her as she rushes to her room, “Mom, please! I-I’ll learn to control it! It was hidden before, I can hide it again!”

“There is nothing,�� she says at her doors frame, back facing me, “that you could do. Get. Out.”

I choke back tears and watch as she walks into her bedroom and slams the door shut behind her. Paul comes up from behind me and grabs me by my arm, yanking me back harshly. “You heard your mother, get your shit out of my house.”

“Let me go,” I growl, yanking away from him. But the second I do Paul lets go of me like he’s touched fire. I exhale sharply and meet his cold, warning glare. Why was this happening? Hugging myself tightly, I back away and watch as Paul steps into the room. Once again the door is slammed in my face but I catch a glimpse of my mother’s tear streaked face. A whimper escapes me and I back away, stumbling in the direction of my room.

“Fine,” I say, softly and tearfully. “Fine,” I repeat myself with a firmer voice. My brows push together and I pull my face into a weak attempt of a strong face. I turn and rush to into my bedroom where I dive into my closet and dig for my hiking backpack. Wordlessly, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I start pulling clothes from their hangers and, despite wanting to shove them into the bag in a rush, I fold them neatly to save room for more things.

I packed warm clothes. It was the middle of November and there was a chill in the air. Or maybe that was just me, I think bitterly. When I had enough clothes packed, I move on to other things that I might need. First, money. Underneath my bed, pushed too far back for anyone to guess where it was, was a locked box full of all my savings. But there was only enough to last me for so long. I push myself underneath my bed and grab it, pulling back out and cradling it to my chest carefully. Just to make sure, I use the key, which was held by a chain that was hanging from my neck. A breath of relief slips past my lips as I see that there’s just as much money in it since I last opened it. I grab a portion of it and slip it into my wallet before relocking it and adding it to my backpack.

Pushing myself up from the floor, I dry my cheeks and slowly approach my dresser which held all my treasures. My camera bag was hanging from the corner of my mirror. I eye it wistfully for a moment wondering if I should before deciding. Grabbing it I set it down on top of my bed next to my bag before returning to the dresser. Pinned all over the wooden edge of the mirror were pictures. Of me, my friends, my father. My mother. I unpin them all carefully and find a small box to set them in, then I continue by taking down all of my necklaces. I might not need them but maybe I can trade them in for cash if I need to. They join the pictures in the small box. The box joins the other things on my bed. I pack toiletries next.

It didn’t take long for me to finish, much to my disappointment. Not that I was trying to take as long as possible but, I hadn’t realized how easy it was to remove myself from the place I grew up in.

I purse my lips and click my tongue as I stand back and look for anything else. There wasn’t really anything at all. My life was simplistic, that’s what happens when you grow up with just enough money to scrape by.

The last thing that I do is change out of my normal tee and sweats. I layer my clothes and start with a tank top, then a long sleeve, then a t-shirt to go over. Next was a slightly oversized sweater, lastly was a jacket that my dad got me for when we’d hiked together. I shove my feet into hiking boots before turning to my bed.

On my bed were a pile of things that I figured would make my life easier. The sleeping back that clips onto the pack, my knife, and some of the food that I had stashed in my room. I finish packing before slinging the pack over my shoulder. I sway under the wight as it continues to pull me to the left and grimace as I regain my balance. Huffing, I straighten myself out before leaving my room.

Halting to a stop in the hallway, I stare pale-faced into my mother’s eyes. Her arms were crossed and her eyes blank. “Mom?” She seems to flinch at my voice.

Inhaling deeply, she looks down and asks in a quiet voice, “Are you leaving?”

“You and Paul made it clear that’s what I have to do,” I murmur, holding onto the straps of my backpack.

“Do you… do you have everything you need?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, furrowing my brows. “This isn’t something that I ever thought I’d have to prepare myself for.”  She exhales sharply and brings her hand up to twirl her fingers around her dark brown hair. Mom doesn’t say anything else. She just steps back and gestures for the front door that was between us. I scoff lightly and step forward, not failing to notice how each step I took forward she took back. I reach the door and spare one last glance at her. Mom was trembling from head to toe. I couldn’t tell if it was out of fear, or maybe sadness. “Bye.”

I didn’t know where to go. My plans for life were to find a job, move out, and keep an eye on Mom to keep her safe. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen now. So where was I supposed to go? My feet were sore and it seemed like every step that I took was like stepping on shards of glass. Breathing heavily, I look up at the sky to see the ever-growing dark clouds getting closer and closer to me. The closer they got, the chiller the air seemed to be. But I’m almost to town. That’s all I have to do, make it to town.  

Another car passes by me and the thought to hold my thumb up and out crossed my mind again. It’d be so much easier but I knew this town and it didn’t have a good rep. Chewing on my lip I force myself to look down and shove my hands deeper into my jackets pockets.

If this little outburst could have waited a few more months, I’d have my own car. They were only offering a few hundred dollars for it. But then there was a high chance that something was wrong with it. So? I had Youtube. Mom had tools. I’d figure it out. Shaking my head, I sigh. It’s too late now.

While I was lost in thought, a car pulls up beside me and rolls slowly next to me. I jump and stare wide-eyed at the tinted windows unsure of what to do. The window rolls down and a man who looked like he was in his fifties leans over and gives me a friendly smile. “Hiya! What are you doing?”

“Walking,” I answer. Turning my head forwards, I try ignoring him.

He chuckles deeply, “Well, yeah, I see that. I was wonderin’ why?”

Sighing, I spit an answer out quickly, “Because I have nothing else to do.”

He hums and when I spare a glance in his direction, I see him scratching his bearded chin. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “A damn shame, parents kickin’ out their kids. Seems to be happenin’ more and more.”

“Hm.”

“So is that what happened to you?”

“Does it matter?” Frustrated, I snap at him. Immediately, I feel bad but I just bite the inside of my cheek and glare at the ground.

“Suppose not,” he mumbles. I hear him sigh and mumble something under his breath before he pipes back up, “So where you headin’?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh, turning to look at him. “I’m thinking about it.”

“You do drugs?” I shake my head. “Alcohol dependency?” No. Again, I shake my head. “You supernatural?” The question derails me and at the same time freezes the blood in my veins. He must have been able to read the answer before I could look away because I hear him hum as if he knew. Glancing sideways I see him nodding and scratching his chin again. “I’ve been watchin’ the news,” he murmurs, “seems like there more and more “late bloomers” as they call it. People who should have shown signs when they were kids are only findin’ out when they’re adults. Heard that it’s killing people.” He stares at me, “Have you killed anyone, girl?”

“No,” I say quietly.

“You’re family against it though?”

I huff and stop walking. He rolls past me then hits the breaks. I glare at the car as it backs up. The old man gives me a knowing look and nods his head. “I used to be too.” I shoot him a glare in response and grit my teeth together. But then he sighs and shakes his head as if he was sad, “How ignorant of me.”

“What?” I whisper, staring at him alarmed.

Giving me a kind smile, he holds his hand out for me to shake and says, “I’m Darrel.”

“N-No,” I stutter, shaking my head. “What do you mean?”

“You know, if not for reading somethin’ a while back, I’d still be ignorant. But I did. It was something along the lines of don’t pick sides until you understand both. So I took the time to understand and I saw a lot of self-hate from a bunch of the supernatural.”

“And? All of a sudden you changed?”

“Well, I talked to some of them. A lot of them were the late bloomers, like you. They all said somethin’ similar, about how much they wished they were still human.” I stare silently at him as Darrel hums quietly to himself. “Well, I realized that there wasn’t much choice in it. Being supernatural. So it’s unfair to despise someone for something they have no control over.”

“Why are you talking to me? Don’t you have someplace to be?” There was no malice in my voice, just curiosity. I watch Darrel shrug and again smile. I sigh and nod once, pulling my hands from their pockets and flipping my hands to see both sides. “I… I don’t know what I am, to be honest. But my mom and her boyfriend kicked me out and I don’t have anywhere to go.”

Suddenly a snowflake falls in front of my face and makes me jump. Gasping, I snap my head up to the sky to see the dark clouds already over us. “Shoot.”

“Do you have any idea where you want to go?”

“I just want to find a place where I can exist… quietly.”

Darrel chuckles and sighs, “Well, I don’t know about that. But… there are a few towns full of the Supernatural. I’m actually on my way, passing through.”

Mom and Paul would never go to a town like that. But I don’t want to take a chance on ever running into them. Inhaling deeply, I level my eyes with his and ask, “I need to go far away.”

“Well, then I’ll drop you off at the furthest one on my trip. It’s a few hours away.”

I stare unsurely at Darrel and his car. “Um, y-you really want to help?” Darrel smiles and nods. What more do I have to lose?

Please reblog if you like it!

[architect-arcane]

The Impact Zone (Harrison x reader)

 AU: Soulmate / tattoo

 Fandom: Bondi Rescue

Words: ~ 2,132

Part: 1/?

A/N: So the bondi rescue fandom is seriously lacking in, well, everything. It’s an amazing show and if you like shirtless guys, then you’d enjoy it. Season 10 and 11 are on netflix and season 13 premiered yesterday. ANYWHO, I wanted to write something due to the extreme lack in fics (especially fics here on tumblr), and Harrison fics in general. (wattpad has a bunch but they’re like 62% jesse and 35% Maxi)

Another note: I usually don’t care for the soulmates au’s but I got this idea a couple days ago and I’m kinda obsessed with it, so yeah. Here we go –

Soulmates are a weird concept to me. Despite the fact that it’s how our society works. Like, you’re supposed to meet and fall in love with a complete stranger just because they have the same tattoo as you? What kind of higher power decided that was a good idea? But, it’s a thing and I guess I just have to deal with it.

Everyone gets their tattoo at a different time in their lives. Sometimes they appear right away when you’re born, sometimes you have to wait until you’re in your 20s or 30s until it appears. They appear someplace on your body with a white ink look, and slowly turn black as you get closer to meeting your soulmate – emphasis on slowly. Even if you do meet them, it’s a gradual change to black, so it may take a couple hours up to a couple days or weeks before you even know it’s them.

My parents were lucky enough to be high school sweethearts. Ironically enough, their tattoos are hearts; my mom’s is on her hip, my dad’s on his wrist. My older brother and his wife were also high school sweethearts, though it took much longer for their tattoos to turn to black for some reason. We always joke that they had a glitch or something. My younger sister literally met her soulmate in kindergarten. Like, wtf? They’re sophomores and still too young to marry, but still. And then there’s me. I’m 22, about to start my last year of college, and still have yet to meet my soulmate. Middle child syndrome I guess? I’m starting to think he doesn’t exist.

Not only that but I was also a late bloomer in even getting my soulmate tattoo. It didn’t appear until summer last year: a wave on my ankle.

Considering it showed up so late, I can only assume that I won’t meet my soulmate until I’m like 35 or something. So I guess he does exist since I at least have a tattoo. It’s just finding him that will be the challenge now. Like I said, my final year of college is starting soon, meaning that I will be graduating in May, which means that I have to find a job and be out in the real world, making it even harder to find the guy.

Growing up on the coast has its perks. Not only is it warm a majority of the year, but if you live anywhere near a beach, you probably grew up surfing or doing something related to water. I’m pretty sure I’ve been swimming since I came out of the womb. And as soon as I could walk, my dad was taking me out and teaching me to surf. By the time I was 13, I was winning almost all the competitions I was in. I definitely wasn’t famous by any means, but a lot of people knew who I was. I did that up though high school. Focusing on my studies, I surf a lot less now, but many students and professors still recognize me and it’s kind of weird. But I wasn’t about to do four years of online college, sooo….

That all aside, I suppose I shouldn’t be complaining this much. I’m kicking off my senior year by taking a summer trip to Australia. How many people get to say that? And I’ve heard there’s amazing surf there too, so I’ll be doing that for sure. I wasn’t even really planning on taking this trip but just a few days ago I talked to my parents about it and they were okay with it, so I just booked it. Talk about spontaneity right?

I make though customs smoothly and as I enter the plane for the dreaded 15 hour flight from LAX to Sydney, I try to get comfortable. Luckily, it seems like a decently small amount of passengers, so after a few hours, I should be able to find a row of seats to lay down on. And just that happens. Once we take off and high enough to turn on electronics, I get on my computer for a while. I check social medias, watch a little Netflix and hulu, and write on the blog diary I decided to keep for this week.

After quite some time of that, my eyes start to hurt from looking at my screen, and I decide to finally sleep for hopefully the rest of the flight, but who knows? It’s dark out so that should help a little. There are a couple people in my row unfortunately, but by some odd luck, the row behind us is completely empty. I put my laptop away, shove my bag under the seat and shimmy out of the row of seats I’m currently in. Going into the overhead bins to grab some sleeping stuff, I pull out a small pillow and my sleeping mask. I then go into the row behind us and prepare myself for what is hopefully a decent sleep.

Time passes, and when I wake up I check the little tv screen on the back of the seat in front of me to see where we are and how much time is left on the flight. Surprisingly, I slept a good six hours meaning I only have about four hours left of this flight. After calling a flight attendant and ordering some food because I’m starving, I pull out my computer again and occupy myself for the remaining time on this flight. Considering we’re over the ocean – well, just flying in general – I have no point of reference to try to figure out what time it is where I’m at, but my phone says 1PM Cali time. I think that means it’s just after 7AM in Sydney. Time zones are so weird because I left home just after midnight on a Sunday, and when I land in Sydney, it’ll be 11AM Tuesday already. Wild.

 The beep of the intercom brings me out of my concentration on my computer screen. “Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We are preparing our descent to Sydney. The current time is 11:34 in the morning, Tuesday, and the current temperature is a balmy 78°. That’s 25 for you locals.” There’s a few chuckles across the plane and the fasten seatbelts sign lights up. Putting away my things and going back to my original seat, I buckle up and prepare for landing.

Landing smoothly, it takes half hour before we get to our gate. It takes another half hour after that to even get my things and get off the plane. Walking off of the air conditioned plane and into the Australia heat, the captain wasn’t lying when he said it was balmy. I almost immediately start sweating. You’d think I’d be used to this, living in SoCal, but nope. I guess not. It’s all good once I get back into the airport. I head straight to baggage claim, find my suitcase, and head out to get a taxi. Luckily, there’s a small line of taxis waiting to pick up morning arrivals. After the few families ahead of me get in their taxis and leave, I get to the front of the line and greet my driver. After getting my suitcase and carry-ons loaded in the trunk, I get in the back of the car.

“Where to?” Alex, my taxi driver asks.

“Hotel Ravesis.”

“Okay! Pretty fancy.”

I chuckle, “Is it? There was a deal when I booked it, so I’m not sure.”

“Oh yes. It’s on Campbell Parade, which is right across the road from Bondi Beach, one of Australia’s most famous beaches.”

“Ooh nice!” I say excitedly. “Can’t wait to go there.”

“Swimmer?”

“And surfer. I’ve been surfing basically since I could walk.”

“Oh wow! Well you’ll have a great time here then. Any special reason you’re visiting?” 

I shake my head, “Not really. Just doing a big solo trip before I start my senior year of college.”

“Very nice. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

We continue to talk for the entire half hour of the drive. When we arrive, I pay him and he helps me get my things to the entryway of the hotel. I thank him again and head in. After checking in, I head to my room and finally relax on the bed. Next thing I know, I’m waking up and two more hours have passed. Guess I was a lot more tired that I thought I was. In my defense, the hotel bed is quite a bit more comfortable than a row of airplane seats.

Now a little after four, I decide I should probably find someplace to eat a proper meal, which I haven’t had since before I left home. I think there’s a café within or right outside this hotel, so I decide to go there.

After an amazing meal, I decide to take it easy and just walk around this famous Campbell Parade. I’m not tired yet, but the jet lag will probably catch up to me tomorrow. Walking down the street, there’s a bunch of shops and food places, just like any other big city. Definitely more surf shops though.

It takes me only about 20 minutes to walk from the hotel to end up on the far northeast side of the beach. If I remember correctly, Alex said that this was the famous Bondi Beach. Probably a dream of every surfer to be here. And here I am. Though I’m far less than prepared – I don’t have my swimsuit or even a towel – that doesn’t mean I can’t take a walk along the beach. I head down the stairs beside what looks like the kiddie pool, take off my flip flops, and slowly begin my walk.

The water is so blue, the sand isn’t too hot, and it’s just an overall beautiful day. And there’s so many people here! Many probably are not fond of the crowds, but I love it. My favorite part is that no one here knows who I am. Being in the surfing circuit back home, everyone knew who you were no matter where you were…especially me since I was winning all the time. 

As I begin my walk I see children playing in the pool and the shallows of the ocean, other people swimming all along the coast, surfers further out catching waves, and more people just sunbathing on the sand. This feels like home to me. I can’t wait to be surfing here tomorrow. I walk in between the mass of people and the wall barricading the far end of the beach. I make it half way, right by the big lifeguard tower. If I hadn’t spent my whole childhood surfing competitively, I probably would have been a lifeguard in high school during the summer months. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do – save people’s lives.

Stopping for a moment, I take in the view. I may be here all week, but I’ll be spending most of it in the water, so now is a good time to just look at it all. I walk a little further and get to the steps where visitors can enter the beach. Going up a few to get a better view, I pull out my phone and take a few pictures. Not only is the attendance at the beach astounding, but so is the sunset. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Right as I begin my descent, I hear the starting of a motor. I look to my left and see an atv of some sort hooked up to a trailer with a jet ski speed to the water. My eyes follow it and its occupants. These are clearly the lifeguards, as noted by their blue pullovers which I couldn’t read, but another one came running down the stairs from the lifeguard tower carrying something and getting in another atv, and I saw that their pullover said LIFEGUARD. Now I know who to look out for.

I continue down the entrance stairs and continue my walk down the beach. Making it to the end, I walk up the ramp so I can get back on a sidewalk. It is now just after six, so I complete my circle and eat a small dinner just by the hotel at a café. After finishing, I head back to my room and sit out on my room’s balcony, looking out at the night sky. I’m still pretty awake, so I get on my laptop and update my blog diary, check my social medias again, and by the time that’s all done, I’m actually pretty tired. I take a shower to finally freshen up after traveling, braid my hair so it’s cute and wavy for tomorrow, and head to bed.

part two

[heartsofstrangers]

What has been one of the most challenging things you’ve experienced or are currently experiencing?

“One of the most challenging experiences of my life has been becoming a quadriplegic. A quadriplegic is a person who can’t move all four limbs. The hardest thing about being a quadriplegic isn’t the physical paralysis; it’s the mental paralysis that comes with it. Since I was young, I’ve had anxiety and depression, which have worsened since my car accident and becoming a quadriplegic. The reason it’s so hard is because (I was 23 when I first got in the car accident) I didn’t really know what I wanted to do with my life. One of the hardest challenges has been finding my life’s purpose, which is even harder when you’re anxious, depressed, not wanting to live, and trying to come up with ways to kill yourself, which is impossible when you can’t move your arms or neck. The other hard part is finding the motivation. Depression kind of saps you of motivation to do anything. I’m intelligent enough to know that there’s a different life I want to live. I could daydream about it and see it, but I couldn’t reach it. It took me about fifteen years to battle this. I’m a late learner, but I finally got through it, and I’m still getting through it. What I did to get through this challenge—I met with a therapist, I got on an antidepressant, and started to do some real mental health work. Right now, my life is looking a lot different than when I first got injured and in the middle of my injury.”

You talked a little bit about having anxiety before the car accident happened. Tell me a little bit about that? What was causing the anxiety?

“I first realized I was having anxiety when I was with my friends. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in large groups of people. I felt awkward, so I knew something was different about me. I judged my insides by people’s outsides. I also realized I was much less happy than my friends. I think, when I was younger, I was depressed; I just didn’t know it. This was all around the time I was 13 or 14 years old. Around this time, I discovered alcohol—it was a great numbing agent. I would drink myself into blackout states and that would be okay with me. I’d have fun in the beginning of the drink, but then I was a mess. The older I got, I discovered drugs. Basically, I was a garbage pail kid—anything I could get my hands on, I would do. I was doing that to fight the anxiety and depression.

“This came to a head when I was 17 and my mom died. I was in shock for months. She was in a coma for a week from an asthma attack and we had to make the decision to take her off life support. As a young man, 17 years old, I really didn’t have the tools to deal with losing my mother. My father didn't have the tools either. He came from that 1950’s era of men are silent, we shove our feelings inside. So that’s what I did, except they kept trying to come out and, luckily, I discovered drugs and alcohol, and that kept me comfortable and numb. I continued to battle the depression, anxiety, and the loss of my mother  with alcohol and drugs until that came to another head. I became homeless and was living in a shelter. I got kicked out of the shelter. I was sleeping in my car, wherever I could find a place. Luckily, I had a car.

“As more time passed by, I began feeling helpless, and friends turned away from me because I was a mess. My parents were doing the tough love thing. I wasn’t allowed at the house. None of that seemed to help. So, one day I decided I was going to kill myself. Luckily, I’m still here. I was 21 at the time. From there, my story changes. I decided to get help. I went to therapy and I discovered the root of my anxiety and depression. I went to AA and NA meetings. I was sober for two years and, when I was 23, that’s when the car accident happened.”

You had already decided that you were going to turn your life around and start to deal with some of these underlying wounds, and you get hit with something else?

“Yes. I said a big fuck you to God … How could you do this to me now? That was hard to deal with, especially because when I was first brought to the hospital, they intubated me. I put my head to the side, closed my eyes, and stuck out my tongue. I was trying to tell them ‘just kill me, just let me die.’ The pain was the worst I had ever felt; I was so uncomfortable. I had a lot happen to me in a small period of time, and I had just started to deal with that. After I got home from the hospital and rehab, I reverted right back to being anxious and depressed. I was seeing a therapist, but I was purely keeping my issues topical. How do you prepare for a life in a wheelchair? Society tells you what a man is supposed to be and here I am, feeling like an adult baby. Being home was difficult.”

Tell me about the day of the accident, if you don’t mind.

“On May 21, 2003, I was making a mix CD using Napster or Lyme Wire, and I was late for work (I remember that). I got on I-95 going South, traffic was stopped ahead of me, I slowed down, I checked myself out in the rear-view mirror, and I happen to see a tractor-trailer approaching that wasn’t going to stop. Quickly, through my head, I said ‘just open the door and jump out,’ but there was so little time. So I just braced myself upon the steering wheel and waited for the impact. The impact came, it was the loudest noise I ever heard. The tractor-trailer behind me pushed my Volkswagen Golf into a tractor-trailer ahead of me. When the rescue workers got there, they couldn’t see my car. They just saw two tractor-trailers touching. While I was in the Volkswagen, I was knocked unconscious (I don’t know for how long). When I woke up, I saw a drop of blood on my right arm, and I couldn’t move my right arm, so I thought to myself ‘okay, my arm must have been amputated during the crash. If that’s the worst that happened, I can live with that.' I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I figured it was because the dashboard was on top of my legs so, in my head, paralysis was not an option, it wasn’t a thought. I didn’t know about paralysis. Paramedics and firefighters arrived and the last thing I did with my left hand was squeeze the firefighter’s hand to let him know I was alive. Those guys were great, I still keep in touch with them, and they saved my life.”

From there, you were brought to the hospital. Did you recognize that you were worse off than you initially thought you were?

“Yes. I started to do a kind of self-diagnosis—like why can’t I move? Then, they started to ask me ‘can I feel this?’ ‘Can you feel me pressing on your leg?’ ‘Can you feel me pressing on your stomach?’ I kept saying no and started to freak out, yelling at the nurses ‘why can’t I feel? what’s going on?' Nobody was saying anything. About this time, my family arrived. I don’t believe in God, but, before the tractor-trailer hit me, I prayed to my mom to protect me. The first thing I said to my stepmother, Jane, was that my mom is here on my shoulder. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, if I’m looking for meaning, but it means a lot to me.”

You’re recognizing in the hospital that you’re in bad shape, you’re in a lot of pain, your family’s there, you’re trying to signal through your facial expressions ‘just cut me loose,’ that doesn’t happen, clearly, you make it through rehab, you get home, and you’re still in a dark spot. You’re suffering with depression, your anxiety has returned, and you’re feeling suicidal again. Are you self-medicating, as well?

“No, I wasn’t able to self-medicate because I can’t grab pills. So that was rough, but I was slowly dealing with it. After two and a half years of living home, I told Jane that I had to move out, I had to be on my own. So, I moved to a place in Farmville called New Horizons, it’s an assisted living facility, and I lived there for a year. I learned how to live on my own, which I never thought that someone who is paralyzed can do. I found my girlfriend there, fiancée actually. So, it was a good place for me. After that, I moved into a condo and I lived there for a couple of years. I broke up with my fiancée. We had a house built in Bristol for her, her son, and me. I decided to move to Bristol so I wouldn’t waste this gorgeous house that I built, and I lived there for about eight years. The whole time I mostly isolated myself. I wouldn’t go to family dinners or get-togethers, but sometimes, I would; it was up and down. Now, I know it was depression. When I lived in Bristol, I can remember opening pill bottles with my teeth to take, so I would self-medicate, but it was hard to do. Most of the time, I would drop them and get more pissed.

“My story picks up again in August 2017. I went to the hospital because I felt like I couldn’t breathe. They put me on a regular hospital floor, which means that there are two nurses for too many patients and one aide for all of the patients. I’m a quadriplegic so I need lots of help. I wasn’t doing well on the floor. They weren’t listening to my complaints about not being able to breathe. Long story short, it ends up that my lungs were completely plugged with mucus from top to bottom. They do a bronchoscopy and give me a trach (which is a tracheostomy). They give this to me because my diaphragm wasn’t working the way it was supposed to be and I needed another airway. I had the tracheostomy to clear my secretions and to give me an open airway. Having a tracheostomy means that I require 24-hour care, so there’s always someone with me. This is a big change after living on my own.

“This time when I got out of the hospital, I went home and started passing out. One time, I actually coded and my step-mom brought me back. It turns out that I was bradycardic, which means I had a low heart rate. So, now I have a pacemaker. It was at this time that I met my therapist, Kerry, and my life started to change. There’s something about her that invited me in to talk about myself. I opened up and we got down to business right away. Like I said, I’m a late bloomer, I’m 39 years old. It took me all this while to figure some stuff out. With the help of medicine, therapy, a lot of hard work, and gratitude, I’m in a much better place today.”

I imagine that it would be pretty easy to remain in a negative space and to feel sorry for yourself and be upset with the circumstances, yet, somehow, you’ve found the will to live, you found space for gratitude, you found an opening in terms of  an awareness to look at yourself and to open yourself up in therapy, which I think is probably a huge difference from where you were prior to the accident because you talked about just skimming along the surface, very topically. Tell me about how you got to those places of transformation, gratitude, and the willingness to dive in a little deeper.

“I’ve always been introspective. When I lie in bed at night, my brain does not stop; I’m constantly thinking about my interactions with people and how I feel. I’m constantly criticizing the way I think or act. I’m very hard on myself. With that being said, I’ve always been aware of what was going on. I just had it shoved deep inside me. The first thing we did was start a gratitude list, which I try to do in the morning when I wake up, just in my head, a couple of things I’m thankful for, sit and stew in it. It’s a good start to the day.”

Does that often lead you to think of more than two or three things to be grateful for?

“Oh, yes, no doubt; it starts a steamroll effect.”

I find that practice to be beneficial in my own life, as well, because it’s really easy to get stuck in how we want things to be, to get angry that they’re not the way we want them to be, and to forget all the many blessings we have before us. That can kind of change your mind set in an instant.

“That’s what I’m kind of struggling with reverting back to that negative place and staying in a positive place. Like I said, I’m a late learner, but I just learned the difference between personality and attitude.”

What’s the difference?

“Personality is what you’re given.  Attitude is what you make.”

How has your life changed since you described this anxious kid … Were you living on your own at the time of the accident?

“I was living at home.”

So, you were living at home and you had started to develop a sense that you wanted to live a different way. You were on your way to work and, in a split second, your whole life changed and you were launched into a completely different trajectory. You spiraled back into depression and anxiety and had a sense of wanting to numb out and escape the way you were feeling. You find yourself back in that dark space. You move onto a living situation where you’re more independent and you find a love interest … you didn’t really get into the relationship, but you decide to part ways?

“We did.”

You move into this house that you had built. Through some other health issues, you then come to a space where you need 24-hour care. So, you went from a sense of independence to needing 24-hour company and care. You described yourself earlier as struggling with being an adult baby. I’m sure that played into what was going on in your mind, as well as criticizing and beating yourself up and then you get into therapy with a therapist who it sounds like has been life changing. At some point, it seems like you gained a sense of will to live and to keep moving along. What changed?

“The will to live is the story of my life since the accident. I’m driven by seeking out answers to questions that are known to all humans. What does it all mean?  Why am I here? What comes next? What’s my purpose? All those questions kept me going, even through the darkest times. I just knew there had to be something different. I knew it was a choice. “

Why do you think you’re here? What do you think your purpose is?

“What I’m doing now is trying to inspire people through my artwork and through my writing. I try to put down on paper something that someone else can read and relate to if they’re going through a dark time, a happy time, no matter what it is.”

Has that been therapeutic for you?

“Yes, very cathartic. The art and painting has been the most cathartic.”

Were you writing and painting prior to the accident?

“I was writing, but never painting before.”

Tell me about how you got into painting.

“While at Gaylord, I remember seeing a video of a gentleman painting with a paintbrush in his mouth. I knew I could do it, so I started to do it, and I could. On April 7, 2019,  I had my first art show.”

That’s amazing. How does it feel to be able to create art and writings that people can connect to?

“The praise I got from the art show totally blew my mind.”

It sounds like through this process of having something taken away from you, you’ve also gained something simultaneously.

“Yeah. I don’t think my life would be on the trajectory it’s on now if the accident hadn’t happened.”

That’s interesting because I think a lot of people look at life as a straight road or path. They kind of set milestones for themselves and think this one thing is going to lead to the next and we often get frustrated with the challenges and obstacles that arise in our lives. But, often, in hindsight, we can see that had it not been for that challenge or obstacle, it wouldn’t have led us to the thing that we’re extremely grateful for that’s allowed us to reach a higher sense of self or purpose in our lives, and it sounds like that’s been your experience.

“I would agree with that.”

What sort of coping skills have you used to get through these hard times in your life?

“Right now what I do, especially when I’m anxious, I put all of my anxieties in a sort of mental hot air balloon and I let the hot air balloon go into the sky.”

So, you envision it?

“Yes, I envision it, or I’ll start counting, saying random numbers, because your brain can’t process the anxiety and do something else at the same time. So, you trick it with doing long division or something.”

So, you give it another task to do besides worry?

“I do.”

That helps to derail it from the process of getting stressed and anxious.

“I paint. Even when I don’t want to, I do it. There’s just something about it … I feel more alive when I’m creating.”

I feel you on that and I think that’s probably true for a lot of artists. It’s not necessarily about what they’re trying to paint, the audience that they’re trying to connect with, or whether or not this is going to be a masterpiece in a museum someday, but it’s about the act of being so present in that moment where you’re connected with creation. When you think about what your beliefs around God are, that’s the energy of creation, that’s transformation. When you’re tapped into a space of vulnerability where you’re moving something from your internal space to your external space, that’s the source right there, right?  I could see how that could be really cathartic and a moment where you’re not attached to thinking about the future and stressing about it or ruminating over the past. You’re just there in that moment.

“You said it perfectly.”

Thank you.  What is it that you hope people will learn from your story and your experiences?

“That there’s a reason to go on. You have to make the reason, which is hard, but there’s a reason.”

It probably entails having to change the story you tell yourself.

“Exactly.”

What was the story you were telling yourself when you were in the negative space?

“I’m not good enough ... I’m worthless ... I can’t do anything ...  Who’s going to love me? I want to die—things like that.”

And what did you spin that around to?

“I spun that around to I survived a suicide attempt. I survived a car accident. I survived coding multiple times. I survived another car accident. There’s a reason for me to be here.”

You’ve been in two car accidents?

“Yeah. One that brought me into the wheelchair, and one I somehow narrowly escaped from.”

Wow! Were you in a vehicle at the time or were you a pedestrian?

“I was in Vermont and I took a turn down a hill. I fishtailed and tried to go with the turn, but I was so nervous, I probably jerked the wheel, spun around, flipped the car over, and skidded down the hill on the hood of my car. Luckily, no cars were coming and I survived. I jumped out of the car and nothing was wrong with me.”

Wow! What more confirmation do you need in your life to prove that you’re supposed to be here?

“Everyone around me, before I got to this point, telling me exactly what you just said. I didn’t believe it. But I do believe it now.”

What have you learned about yourself through this process?

“I learned that I’m incredibly strong, sensitive, and determined. I’d say those are three good qualities I learned.”

If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you about your relationships. I think for many people who have some sort of disability or have been through some sort of struggle that has broken them down emotionally, or even, physically in some way, they see themselves as unlovable. They feel like they’re incapable of being loved and often don’t even love themselves. So, for you, it sounds like within a few years of getting rehabilitated and becoming independent, you were able to open yourself up to a loving, romantic relationship. Tell me about that, if you don’t mind.

“When we met, it was amazing. We had so much in common. We went everywhere. I didn’t feel encumbered by my wheelchair. Our relationship was no different than people who are able bodied. The problem was, as time went on, I was kind of just putting my best foot forward and my depression and anxiety came out and she couldn’t live with someone like that.”

In opening your heart up to her, it also kind of unleashed some of your insecurities?

“At the time, I didn’t love myself; maybe a little on good days. I barely liked myself, I’d go as far to say.”

There's some truth to that cliché statement “You can’t love somebody else, until you actually love yourself.” What was the process of learning to love yourself like?

“Like I said, in the morning gratitude is big. If I can find gratitude, I can find something to love … I can love myself. I went back into my childhood and told the child that it was okay, he’s worthy of love. I told the teenager, who was searching, to end the pain in his life. I told him the pain will go away. I told the quadriplegic me, that it will get better.”

It sounds like you’ve done some powerful work in therapy.

“Yes, I have, and I’m proud of it.”

You should be. Many people find themselves in therapy because they’re forced into it. They’re going because they think they should, but they’re not actually being honest with themselves. If you’re not willing to be honest with yourself, there’s not a lot of work you can do besides just tell the therapist what you think they want to hear. I did that for a number of years myself and didn’t get anything out of therapy. It kind of made me a little biased against therapy, thinking, “Oh, what good can come out of talking about your problems?”, and later realized I wasn’t really bringing to the table the roots of any of my issues I was suffering from in my life. It wasn’t until I started doing that, that things began to change. Maybe you can speak to this. Was it a comfortable process?

“No, it wasn't a comfortable process. I just spoke with my therapist yesterday and we went over what you and I would talk about today, and that was very uncomfortable. To go back into the past—it brings up all those feelings.”

What do you do when you have an intense, really uncomfortable, even painful session with your therapist? How do you move back into a space that is comfortable and safe?

“I’ll change the subject right away. She’ll laugh and say ‘I could tell you were getting to this point.’ Then, we just talk and I’m myself again.”

You kind of test the limits of how far you can go. When you realize you’ve come up against a barrier or space that is too painful or too uncomfortable, you just back it up a few feet, and then you move from that space?

”Right, and the great thing is that, after about ten minutes, it will be in my mind, and I’ll mull it over, bring it up again, and get past that point.”

I think that’s a beautiful metaphor and technique for any sort of challenge or obstacle in life—keep trying. If you meet an obstacle you can’t overcome the first time, take a break, recollect yourself, and try again. Eventually, you overcome it and move past it and, on the other side, there’s more open space, more opportunity for growth. I think a lot of times, our lives can become smaller, more isolated, and more miserable when we let fear define the space we operate in. We don’t challenge the fear because it feels terrible; it’s really uncomfortable.

“That’s what I’m working on now. I tend to isolate myself, which is fear of going outside the house. So, I’ve been going out to paint and run errands, anything to get out of the house. Just trying to flip the script. Trying to get out of my comfort zone.”

I imagine if you built your house, you were able to adjust it to your needs. So, tell me about going into public, some of the challenges that you’ve encountered.

”Me feeling uncomfortable … Are people looking at me? They’re staring. That kind of stuff. Sometimes it brings me down. Basically, aside from a sidewalk not having a proper lip, there aren't many challenges.”

Nothing you can’t overcome, having been through what you’ve been through already?

“Yeah.”

It’s probably given you quite a sense of strength and resilience, all of the different moments in your life where you were pushed to the brink of either giving up or even death, and yet still coming out on the other side, willing to show up to life and whatever that moment presented to you.

“I don’t want it to sound all peaches, because I still think about death. I think about how I would end my life when I’m having bad days. I know how I would do it, but I don’t want to, but I still have those days, and that’s why it’s a work in process.”

When you have those bad days, what tools do you utilize?

“I’ll call my therapist or somebody in my family. Sometimes, I sit and stew in it because I’m used to the comfort I used to get from that. What else do I do? I’ll try to do something different, I’ll do an activity, even if it’s just going on the computer.”

In twelve-step programs, they say move a muscle, change a thought. It seems really simple, like oh that’s not a substantial thing, that wouldn’t make a difference, but it really does seem to make a difference. Whether it’s picking up a phone and calling somebody, washing dishes, or just moving your feet a few paces, it can be enough to change your thinking.

“Twelve-step programs have some of the best sayings.

Yeah, right; they’re full of slogans.  Do you still go to meetings?

“No, I don’t.”

Where do you find support?

“Right now I’m looking to join a support group for that reason.”

Yeah, certainly there are people who have had similar experiences.

“There are people I can learn from and there are people who can learn from me.”

Where do you see yourself and what do you see yourself doing with these experiences, in the sense of wanting to share your story and inspire others?

“Right now, I’m trying to sell my artwork and I want to publish my poetry.”

Tell me about the writing process. It seems like you don’t have use of your hands. So, how do you write?

“I use Dragon to dictate. I do miss writing. I loved the art of writing and penmanship.”

It’s incredible that you’ve found ways, with limitations, to connect your mind with your heart, and then share it with the world around you. That’s inspiring.

“I called my art show ‘A Work of Heart.'”

A Work of Heart?  I love that.

”Except I looked on line and somebody has a workshop with that name, so I can’t use that. I made tee shirts and everything.”

Did you?  That’s great. I know when we were leading up to this interview, walking to the park today, you had expressed that you had some nerves around sharing your story and you had processed this a little bit in your therapy session leading up to this. Having made it through most of the interview now, how are you feeling?

“Pretty good.  Much less nervous.”

Good. I may have asked you this already, but what advice would you give somebody who is struggling, is in a dark place, or is processing some grief in their lives … what sort of hope or inspiration would you offer them?

“I’m the worst at giving advice.”

Think about it in terms of yourself.

“I would want someone to tell me that it gets better. I would want someone to hold me until I cry, because that’s something I don’t do enough of.”

Yeah, that got me. Wow.

“I just want people to know that it gets better and, if they’re at that point, please don’t end your life, because there’s a reason you’re here.”

Right on. We don’t often know what the reason is, but it is revealed to us through time.

“You have to believe.”

How has it felt to share your experiences, thoughts, and feelings with me today?

“It’s great because it reminds me of what I want to do.”

Is there a quote, a piece of advice, a song lyric that resonates with you that you’d like to share?

“Once in a while you get shown the light in the strangest of places, if you look at it right.”

What does that mean to you?

“It’s half my life. I’ve been through all of these downs and darkness, but all the while, if I looked, there could have been light. It also means that it wasn’t until I reached those low points that I came to know myself.”

It was part of the process?

“Yes. The work starts at the bottom.”

I like to think of that in terms of nature. Often, when we’re growing something, we have to bury a seed in the darkness of the soil, even with the manure, the shit (the shitty experiences)—and it takes that—a little bit of rain, some sun, and a lot of pressure and pain. The seed experiences pain in order to burst out of the shell and come up through the dirt to find the light. I think that’s true in our own lives as well, as human beings. It takes that darkness, pressure, and transformation to give us the strength and the resilience to move through whatever dirt stands in our way to reach towards the light.

”That’s a good analogy. I have a lotus tattoo and they grow in mud. So, this beautiful flower emerges from mud. I think it goes back into the mud at night and re-emerges the next day. I find that significant.”

You can’t have one without the other. They need each other. It sounds like you’ve learned a lot from your darkness.

Matt:  Still learning. It’s great that I do all this work by myself with my therapist but, without expressing it to the world, what good is it? Sharing my story with you helps me to see where I’m at today.”

It helps you sow more seeds.

“Yes.”

I realized that too in therapy, which is why these interviews have a very therapy-like style to them. If what we talk about in therapy, and how we open our hearts, and bring more awareness and insight to the pain and wounds in our lives and how to heal, stays behind the doors and walls of an office and never extends beyond that into our relationships, our community, and the people we interact with on a daily basis, what good is it? I think the greatest impact we have is to share who we are and what we’re going through with each other; that’s how we learn. You clearly recognize that and you have the courage to do that, because it does take courage.

“Just the other day, I made myself vulnerable when I told a woman how I felt about her. That was huge.”

I think without being vulnerable, we can’t access the very things that we long for … the joy, gratitude, pleasure, connection, and love.

“And the great part was that it didn’t go as I expected. So, now I’m dealing with rejection, and that’s okay. Because I made myself vulnerable, and that was a big step for me.”

If we were all to give up after feeling that first sting of rejection, we would miss out on so much. Eventually, through 10 no’s and go fuck yourself’s, someone says yes and we would never get to that place if we gave up. Thank you, Matt, for sharing your story.

“Thank you, Corey, for letting me share my story.”

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #91: Late Bloomer.

Written: 4/9/2017                                                                            Music Week Song Listened to Before Writing: LCD Soundsystem - Us V Them

When Deborah was young, her mother, a former soap opera actress who spent most of her time drinking wine in the den and stewing in anger over being killed off and out of work, wold tell Deborah that she was “too ugly to be worth anyone’s time” or that she was “too ugly to even play an unattractive person on television, and the only way [she] could get an acting job would be to take part in an art house horror movie”. Deborah never wanted to act, mainly since she hated her mother and wanted to be as different as possible, but her mother was constantly suspicious of her, paranoid that her little girl would become a bigger star than she had been if she tried, a blow to her ego that she would be unable to handle. The girl never knew that this was the reason her mother was so cruel to her, but if she knew it probably wouldn’t make things better, the words would still cut deep. Although, its possible she wouldn’t have believed that she was so unbearably unattractive, its possible that she would have pursued an acting career, just to spite her mother, but instead her self esteem was as low as could be, and she mostly tried to hide away during the years of adolescence, spending school breaks locked up in bathroom stalls, making sure to sit in the back of every class, always suspicious of boys who would show an interest in her, spending most of her free time at home, under her blankets, wishing that she was dead.

She wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t attractive either, it was as if she was just as middle of the road as somebody could look, completely inoffensive, safe. Some guys would think of her as “somebody you would only try to hook up with when you were drunk, but who you also wouldn’t regret in the morning”. These neutral looks, that were difficult to form an actual opinion on, was a reason why it was so easy for her to believe her mother, since she wasn’t pretty enough to call bullshit. Her looks were also a reason that her neighbor, from several houses down, a young man named Arty, was secretly in love with her. Now, Arty was definitely attractive enough to be considered out of Deborah’s league, and he was very likable and social, but he had a performance issue with attractive girls, who seemed to throw themselves at him, because they put too much pressure on him. Arty had to wait until puberty struck to become attractive, but he was never able to grow out of his unattractive mindset, making attractive girls almost threatening to him, he couldn’t understand that they were attracted to him as much as he was attracted to them, so he felt a need to have to do better than normal, and would always stress himself out to the point where he was flaccid and crying about how it was too much for him. Deborah, on the other hand, seemed to be no such challenge for him, and seemed likely to be pressure free.

Maternal insults clouded the girl’s judgment, so even as she stared at the neighbor boy through her second story bedroom window, willing to do anything to be with him, she never realized that he had felt the same way about her. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he tried to talk to her, or make excuses for them to hang out, one on one, she would never fully listen, and would instead hear her own mother’s words. During their senior year, he literally told her, “Hey, some girls have been strongly hinting that they want me to ask them to prom, but I wanted to see if you would like to go with me instead. I know I’ve been pestering you a lot about going on dates, but I just wanted to make sure that I asked one last time, the old college try as my old man calls it. If you say no, I guess I’ll take the hint and leave you alone.”

Instead, she heard, “Look, I feel bad that you had to be born looking like the doctor accidentally stepped on your face when you slid out of your mother, so I wanted to ask you to prom as charity. Don’t expect anything real to come out of this, because you’ll mostly be my date in title alone. And, right when we arrive at the dance, I’m going to abandon you to hangout with my real friends, since I’m really just using you so that I can feel good about myself. You don’t think you can compare to the girls I get, right? I hope you wouldn’t be so insane to actually think that you would have a chance with me, because I swear that would be something I would have nightmares about if I ever thought of you, but I only remembered that you existed, right now, because I just happened to bump into you. I don’t even know your fucking name. If somebody asked me, ‘Hey, do you know blah blah blah?’ I would ask who the hell they’re talking about, and then I’d say that they were probably some worthless, fucked up looking person, because that name made me throw up in my mouth alone. When I heard that name, I- hey, don’t fucking look me in the eyes, that’s only going to make me fucking angry. Now where I before you made me want to put your face in a lawn mower, just so it would be easier to look at. Oh yeah, when I would hear the name, I bet I would smell something awful, like an egg salad sandwich that was left in a hot, metal shed for an entire Summer. Now get out of my way before I do us all a favor and push you into traffic.” A lot of that interpretation came hours, even days, after they talked, mostly existing in her imagination, because it seemed like she must have been crazy to think that he might actually had been interested in her, and she had to try to set the record straight.

Years later, when she and the guy were both in college, Deborah had, in a fit of intense depression, decided to drink half a bottle of gin and drive her car into a tree, in an attempt to kill herself. It seemed to her that so many people at her school were happy, were exploring their social lives, finding themselves, and she just felt like she was ruining everyone’s fun, she felt as if she was a dysfunctional human, broken inside and out, and that it would be better for her to die already, just so nobody would have to deal with her bullshit. However, the crash hadn’t killed her, she was too drunk to realize when the impact happened, was just limp enough to survive the impact, even if the shattered gin bottle (that was in her hand) and a protruding tree branch had mangled her face beyond recognition. When she was first told about this she was worried that it was going to cause her to become more deformed than ever, requiring her to actually have to hide her face whenever she would dare to go outside, but when the plastic surgeons had done their part, and the bandages came off, she was shocked to learn that she looked outrageously beautiful.

For the first couple days she wondered if she had died during one of the procedures, wondered if this was heaven instead of real life, but then she figured that if heaven was real, then there would have to be a god, and no god would be cruel enough to give her the face that she had known for a majority of her life.

When Deborah was finally out of the hospital, where she spent her recovery time staring in a mirror and making faces at herself, she decided that the first thing she would have to do would be to rub her new looks in on her mother, who didn’t bother to visit the girl since the suicide attempt. When she arrived at her childhood home, she found her mother drunk, unable to even get up from the living room couch, watching old episodes of the show she used to be on, watching the younger version of herself that had been unfairly exiled (the reason the gave her, which was the real reason, was that she was a terrible person to be around, and it seemed like she was going out of her way to put down and anger the entire cast, crew, producers, and even some of the fans, making her impossible to work with, but she just believed that one of her female co-stars was sleeping with a producer, and just wanted to get the mother out of the way, so that she could steal her spot on the show). After noticing the girl who was standing over her, the mother only asked, “Who the hell are you?”

“Its me, your daughter.”

“Bullshit.”

“Remember that accident I got in, the one that you never cared about. Remember when I was in the hospital for months and you never once visited me? Well, I have a new face, I’m still your daughter.”

Deborah knew exactly what she had wanted her mother to say, which would have been something along the lines of, “Wow, you are so beautiful now. I am so glad to have such a stunning daughter, and now I will give you all of the love that I was unable to give before. Today will be the first day of a real mother daughter relationship, and I’m deeply sorry that I never visited you in the hospital, I just was worried that I would have to see your fucked up face once again. Can you forgive me for the way I treated you? Even though it was only natural for me to have been rough on you, because of your unfortunate appearance, I would understand if you could not forgive me for it.”

This is what her mother actually said, “You look twice as worse as before. Now move to the side, you’re blocking the television.”

Finally, Deborah had realized that her mother was just a hateful person, and that the woman would call her hideous, no matter what. Then she had to make sure, and went into her old room to look at some old photographs, the few that she actually kept, believing that she didn’t deserve to be photographed, and, for the first time, she hadn’t seen an ugly girl, she only saw an average girl. When something broke inside of her, and her temper began to swell, she couldn’t tell what had upset her, and it was either the fact that her mother had been abusive, had lied to her for her entire life, putting in so much effort to make her life miserable, or the fact that she was stupid enough to believe any of the lies (her opinion), stupid enough to be willing to believe that she was much, much worse than she actually was. In the heat of the moment, the source of the rage wasn’t the most important issue, the rage itself was, and she could only think about how she wanted to make the woman suffer, so she kicked her door open, and flew down the stairs to do something permanent and awful.

However, after the newly gorgeous girl had gone upstairs, her mother believed that she would have no chance to become a star again (she clung to denial in the same way she clung to her bottle), that her daughter was going to become such an impressive star, that no matter what the mother did, she would always be in her daughter’s shadow. Instead of being her own person, she would only be Deborah’s mother, thats all people would call her, not even using her first name. Things were starting to seem, for the woman, like it was all apart of some ghastly nightmare, this had been her greatest fear, her worst case scenario, and it had finally come true. So, no longer wanting to live in this fucked up world, not wanting to have to stand next to her stunning daughter, looking like a shriveled up crone in comparison, not wanting to have to see her daughter bask in the sunlight, she decided that it was time to take the hard-way-out (what her father, who shot himself in the head, would call suicide, believing that it took a lot of effort to actively take your own life, while the easy-way-out was just waiting for death to come on its own). So, when Deborah had reached the bottom of the stairs, and re-entered the living room, wanting to break something, she had found her mother on the floor, near the couch, with a knife in her hand, and an open throat that was drooling blood and staining the tan carpet.

Taking this as a final insult, Deborah decided to just kick her mother for a while, hoping that she would get some satisfaction out of it, but the woman was practically dead, causing it to be as satisfying as kicking a table or a fridge, instead of kicking the woman who had screwed with her head for so many years. That night, Deborah had cried from anger for the first time in her life.

A morning shower turned out to be all she needed to clear her head, and figure out what she had to do to get revenge on the woman. It was a two step plan, which included leaving the corpse to rot in the house for weeks, maybe even months, until somebody would find it based off of the smell, to make the horrible woman’s death seem pathetic in the extent that anyone who heard of it would think, “What an awful way to die, unloved, uncared for, nobody even missing your company, except for the bugs that eat you inside and out. I would never want to be as depressing as that, I never want to be like her.” The second part involved her finally seducing her old high school flame, Arty, and getting him to marry her, so that she could have a happy and fulfilling life, something the bitch never would have wanted her to have in the first place. Before she left to carry out the second part of the plan, she decided to wrap her mother’s body in blankets and some air fresheners she found around the house, just to buy some time before the body was found.

Finding Arty turned out to be surprisingly easy, he was visiting his parent’s home since it was Spring Break, mainly to hide away from all of the party scenes and attractive girls that would stress him out. When she knocked on the door to the house, Arty was also the first person to answer the door, but he didn’t recognize her. “I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked.

“We used to go to school together, I just lived a couple houses down. My name is Deborah.”

“Oh yeah,” surprised and disappointed, “I remember you. You sure have grown or whatever.” There had been plenty of occasions where he had thought of her when he was in college, but now that he saw the new her, all of his interest had dissipated, she was just another girl who he couldn’t handle, another girl who would put him at risk of high blood pressure and self hatred.

“So, I was wondering, are you, uh, single?” Suddenly, she realized that she had no idea how flirting was supposed to work, “Do you want to, like, I’m single too, if you get what I’m trying to say. And I was wondering if we, well if you’re single, if we could be single together somewhere else? Like, two single people, out eating dinner or, like watching a movie,” bringing her hands into the mix, but having no idea what to do with them, “and we could like combine our single energies, and eventually we could you know, like, make a date?” Arty was confused, but he was too sweaty and nervous to be able to respond to this beautiful train wreck. “Like, we put our, we could make a date, you know? You and me? We could…” Uncomfortable since he hadn’t interrupted her, which she desperately wanted, but also was unsure if this was a part of the dating process or not, “We could put our hands together, hold hands, and.. Do you like my face?” No response. “Do you like my new face? I like your face, I would like it if you liked my face, and we could, uh, we could put our good faces together and make a kiss? We could enjoy the comforts of rubbing our faces against each other-” Then, after being scared out of his mind, Arty worked up enough courage to slam the door in her face.

It was the first time she had attempted anything like that, and it was the first time she actually had to handle rejection. Sure, she dealt with it in her mind before, but she mainly never actually tried, just so she could avoid the real feeling, which she then realized felt way worse than she imagined it to feel. It was unbearable, especially since she couldn’t understand why, wasn’t she irresistible now?

Spending the rest of the day at her house, ignoring her dead mother, standing around in her bedroom, posing in her closet that had mirrors on its doors, she tried to find just a single flaw in her new appearance, but it seemed that if she put herself in the most unflattering position she could think of, she was still stunning. In fact, she had a hard time looking away from herself, it was as if she was beginning to become addicted to her own appearance, not wanting to look away to answer the door, to use the bathroom, to get something to eat or drink, just taking in the view of her beauty. The more she loved herself, the less she understood why her old crush had treated her in that cruel manner, why he treated her just like… And then she started to understand, as she stared into her own eyes, that no matter what he would have rejected her, that he was no better than her rotten, rotting mother. With that realization, her anger had come back, stronger than ever, but she was conflicted. Should she give him the treatment that she desperately wanted to give her mother, or did she still want to be with him, and find a way to convince him to love her, since she still loved him? It was a tough decision, and never once was she able to realize that she had actually rejected him often years ago, or that personality might have been playing a key role in the situation (it wasn’t), that he could have simply been gay, or generally just unable to be attracted to her (he wasn’t), or that, which was the most important of all, it didn’t matter how much confidence she had in herself, or how strongly she loved him, because in the end it was his call to chose who he wanted to date, and even though he was rude about it, he had given her his answer and she would have to respect it, move on, and find somebody who wants to be with her.

Deborah decided that she should probably both take out her anger on him, and then force him to love her, killing two birds with one stone.

One of the reasons she was disconnected from the way relationships work, other than her self-isolation and the low self worth caused by her mother, was the fact that she had made sure to stay away from anything romance related, whether it was romantic movies, books, shows, songs, or even anything that dealt with dating or relationships in general, since she believed that it would only make her feel terrible on the inside, because it would expose her to something she could never have, would allow her to know what she was missing out on.

For hours she watched his house from her bedroom window, clutching her mother’s tazer (used for self defense) in her right hand, waiting for any sign of Arty leaving the house. Around eight at night he finally went out of the garage door and threw away a trash bag, then decided to wait outside to smoke a cigarette, and before he had even smoked half of it down, the gate into the backyard swung open, a figure moved towards him, he felt a sharp pain, dropped to the ground, and wasn’t in control of his body, which decided that it wanted to shake and twitch, no matter how often he told it not to. At some point he pissed himself, which embarrassed him. Somebody was dragging him, but he couldn’t react until he was a couple houses away from his own, tried to get up, and his attacker, the now-gorgeous girl from down the street, told him, “If you try to run I’m going to zap your dick.” The electrical sounds emitting from the tazer convinced him that she wasn’t fucking around, so he let her march him into her house, which smelt overwhelmingly of air fresheners. “Keep going, turn left, here we are.”

He couldn’t believe it. Right in front of him was a table set up for two, with candles and rose petals all over it. ‘What the fuck’ is what he wanted to say, but he opted for the more polite, “What the hell?”

“Its a date, sit down. You’re going to love dinner, we’re going to have a good time, trust me.”

Arty knew the whole situation was insane, so he decided to make a run for it, fuck the tazer, but he wasn’t quick enough, and all over again he had felt pain and dropped to the ground. “Why do you have to be such an asshole? You know I’m gorgeous, right? You know that I’m irresistible, so what’s your problem? Why are you going out of your way to ruin this night? Can’t you see how much effort I’m going through to make this work, can’t you see how much I am clearly in love with you? Why are you trying to resist so much, why can’t you just look into my face, my beautiful face, and allow yourself to just allow my looks to do their job, just let them wash over you, drown you, just let it happen. Let it happen you son of a bitch.”

He tried to get to his feet, but she now held up a hammer, right next to his face, “I will bash your god damned brains in if I can’t have you.” Then she brought it down on his left shoulder, dislodging it and causing him to cry out. “Now, get in that fucking chair, and I’m going to make you something nice.” Deciding to stop resisting, he shakily made his way to the table, hoping that there wasn’t much to it. “I’m going to have to tie your legs together, but you can understand why I would want to do that.” When she began to tie his legs, he looked down at her and became afraid, not of the situation, but afraid of the fact that the longer he stared at her, the more he was comfortable with what was happening. Well, he felt that way until she said, “And after dinner, we are going to watch a movie together, because thats what people do on dates. And after that, you are going to take my virginity, and if you refuse to do any of that, I’m going to slit your throat for being a hateful piece of shit.”

He knew that he was a dead man.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN SORT

Maybe if the idea of making a living. The whole language always available. About a year ago she was alarmed to receive a letter from Apple, offering her a discount on a new version number on the software, and issue a press release saying that the new version was available immediately. And so the idea for most of the twentieth century. We had to spend thousands on a server somewhere, maintained by the kind of people you want to get a prototype done fast, and the hackers merely implement the design. For example, I was mathematically abused as a child. For example, when I think about it, is not at all what you might expect, considering the degree to which programming consists of it. And then of course, is OS X. Understanding all the implications of what was said, rather than doing development in such a large organization feels both right and wrong at the same time, of course, but Lisp was the first programming language to support it.

I was just telling people what they regret most about high school, flushing out all the problems—to the slight annoyance of his teacher, since the class was supposed to work through the book gradually. Watching users can guide you in design as well as writing ad copy for garbage disposals. The social sciences are also fairly bogus, because they're easier to see, and of a particularly stressful kind, but that would be impossible in the circumscribed world of the iPhone, you could presumably get them to come to your country. They've managed to preserve enough of the impatient, hackerly spirit you need to find out. But when you use this trick for dividing a large group into smaller ones, something strange happens that I've never heard anyone mention explicitly. It's harder to judge startups than most other things, because great startup ideas tend to seem wrong. Often they are, they're not powerful enough to turn back the evolution of an economy.

A few hundred thousand, perhaps, out of billions. And so the idea for most of them, which gave us the impression the short story was flourishing. Web-based software, neither your data nor the applications are kept on the client, and if you want to do something with what you've read to feel productive. The people calling us were customers, not just co-workers. And software sells hardware. We're a sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a hypothetical language called Blub. They're not playing games with you. But the problem is more than just deciding how to implement some spec. And if you took a random person off the street and ending up in a conversation as if you'd thought of it. It was not till I was in college I used to write existentialist short stories like ones I'd seen by famous writers. Much as we disliked school, the grownups all agreed that grownup work was worse, and that employers are just proxies for users in which risk is pooled. PhD programs, the professors do.

And the reason everyone doesn't use it is that programming languages are not just technology, but what will make you happiest over some longer period, like a charcoal sketch. No, probably not. Viaweb was bought by Yahoo, the customer support people liked it because they can't see things from the user's point of view. So if you choose stability—by buying bonds, or by going to the site where it's offered. What else can we give developers access to? Anyone who's worked for a few years unless the university chooses to grant them tenure. You can also be in closer touch with your code. We weren't sure at the time whether this was a proper use of the Internet, anything genuinely good will spread by word of mouth mostly, we got more and more users. When I was in college, I read a quote by Wittgenstein saying that he had no self-discipline and had never been able to deny himself anything, not even a cup of coffee, but told himself he ought to finish what he was working on first. The customer is always right, that's a sign of an underlying lack of resourcefulness.

When a piece of code. When you're deciding what to do, or know, things you're not supposed to supply job training. When they're raising money, for example. And the lower your expectations, the harder it is to make what users want, and not by accident. Systematic is the last word in informality. But all art has to work very hard, and no one can stop you. Technology tends to get more expensive as you get older, so it's easy to say things you'd never say face to face. For the average user this new kind of software will be easier because you won't have to tweak it for every new client. I don't mean to suggest by this list that America is more open to immigration than Japan. If you study conversations, you find that parts no one is sure where the end is. The first thing I would do, after checking to see if this fate can be avoided. They are programs that write programs.

A couple hundred thousand would let them get office space and hire some smart people they know from school. The influence of fashion is not nearly so great in hacking as it is in other ways more accurate, because when someone is being an asshole it's usually uncertain even in their own right. Better to make everyone feel like a late bloomer than a failed child prodigy. This seems to be a total slacker. This is what most successful people actually do anyway. But if you don't take advantage of those, people have to choose? And the way to do that is to implement it. What does the first round of venture funding for a Web-based application now for less than we paid for bandwidth alone. Being able to release software immediately is a big problem. We're talking about some pretty dramatic changes here. And when I wasn't working at my day job I'd start trying to maximize this. Rise up, cows!

Kids didn't, but they noticed that it worked really well. I don't know enough about music to say. They're a lot of work, instead of releasing a software update immediately, they had no way around the statelessness of CGI scripts. Within a year you'll know if you're wasting your time. For the average person, brand dominates all other factors in the judgement of the buyers. And in fact I found my stories pretty boring; what excited me was the idea of work still included a large component of pain. I doubt they could do it yet either.

Thanks to John Bautista, Fred Wilson, Jessica Livingston, and Steve Huffman for their feedback on these thoughts.

[goodra-king]

Transcript of What’s Podcasting Got To Do With Marketing?

Transcript of What’s Podcasting Got To Do With Marketing? written by John Jantsch read more at Duct Tape Marketing

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John Jantsch: This episode of The Duct Tape Marketing Podcast is brought to you by Klaviyo. Klaviyo is a platform that helps growth-focused eCommerce brands drive more sales with super-targeted, highly relevant email, Facebook and Instagram marketing.

John Jantsch: Hello, and welcome to another episode of the Duct Tape Marketing Podcast. This is John Jantsch. My guest today is Guy Kawasaki. He’s the Chief Evangelist of Canva, a great online design service, and executive fellow of the Haas School Of Business at the University of Cal Berkeley. And he has the distinction of being on my show for about the sixth time, probably. I think we talked about this last time you were on my show. I think I’m the only podcast or to interview you for both versions of Art of the Start.

Guy Kawasaki: And that and a nickel will buy you… Well, not even a cup of coffee, but yeah.

John Jantsch: So, we’re going to talk about a number of things today. It’s been far too long. Guy’s most recent book is called Wise Guy: Lessons From a Life, so we’re going to touch on that. But I always like to get a little update on Canva, so why don’t we start there? As an evangelist, this is your only job, right, is to talk about it?

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I also have four children, but who’s counting? So, I’m the Chief Evangelist of Canva, and for those of you who may not have heard of Canva, it is an online graphics design service based out of Sydney, Australia. And the essence of Canva is that it has democratized designs that basically anyone can create beautiful designs for social media, posters, business cards, presentations, t-shirts, whatever you want. And I’ll just tell you that, in the month of October, Canva made 139 million images, so we make about four or five million images per day at Canva for people all around the world.

John Jantsch: So, there are dozens of folks that have tried to crack that nut. Why do you suppose Canva was so successful? I mean, there are other online design tools that are been around a long time that haven’t been that successful.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I think that one of the key decisions was that we decided that we’re going to make every conceivable design type, and within a design type, hundreds of templates. So, what I mean by those two words is that, a design type is a square Instagram image, right? A design type is a 16X9 presentation. A design type is a Kindle book cover. So, when you come to Canva you say, “All right, so I want to create a Pinterest pin. I want to create the Etsy store. I want to create the eBay store cover photo. I want to create the cover photo for my LinkedIn account.” And all of those, we have the optimal dimensions already figured out, and within those design types, we have hundreds of templates. So, you find a template that you like, you upload your own photo or you use one of our stock photos, you change the text, and I promise you, in the time it takes to boot Photoshop, you could finish a design in Canva.

John Jantsch: I totally agree with you. I mean, the ease of just saying… For example, if you’re working with a small business client like we do and they are on six different platforms, and you need a header image for each and all the things, every single one is a little different size, and so it’s just so convenient to just go boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. So, I know [inaudible 00:04:04].

Guy Kawasaki: I mean, John, I don’t know if you realize this, but even more convenient than going boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, we have a feature called Magic Resize. And what Magic Resize says is, “Okay, you did the basic design for one. Now, we will resize this for all the other five platforms.”

John Jantsch: Oh, but I don’t know about that because that’s the $10 a month one, right? I’m not going to pay $10 a month [inaudible 00:04:29].

Guy Kawasaki: Oh, John, you’re killing me, John, bro. Your books are free, right?

John Jantsch: No, that’s awesome. So, are they going to stay true, do you think? Or would there be a temptation to say, “Let’s get into audio and video editing,” and all those kinds of things?

Guy Kawasaki: Well, certainly video because we already do that. Going to 16X9 presentations, we’re trying to make it so that mere mortals can have beautiful PowerPoint-like presentations. I don’t know. We would like it so that every graphic in the world is produced by Canva. We’re not shrinking violence at Canva.

John Jantsch: All right, well I guess you just sold me. I’m going to pony up the 10 bucks a month.

Guy Kawasaki: Okay. We can end this now.

John Jantsch: All right, so this is, what, your 14th, 15th book, Wise Guy?

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah. Wise Guy’s number 15. I truly do think it will be my last, also.

John Jantsch: Yeah? Is that because you’re out of things to say or because you’re tired?

Guy Kawasaki: Well shit, I was out of things to say on my third book, so… Well, it’s partially retired, but switching to the next topic, I am now convinced that podcasting is the new book writing. Because, well, the advantage of podcasting is, well, you can be in front of your audience a minimum of 52 times a year. You can change on a dime. So, next week if John Ives says, “I want to be in your show,” you can put them on, right? Whereas, in your book, it takes a year to write a book, it takes six to nine months to publish it, so let’s say two years, and then, it’s done. It’s laid in concrete, and you’re never going to touch it again unless you fix typos. So, you get that initial burst of, I don’t know, maybe for you, five million people buy your first version. But then, some people read it, but it’s never picked up again. Whereas, a podcast, man, you’re in their face every week. That’s so much better.

John Jantsch: Except for What the Plus! I mean, that one lives on forever.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, What the Plus! may have lasted longer than the service, but I digress.

John Jantsch: I completely agree with you on the pod… I mean, there’s so many… You mentioned an obvious benefit, but I mean, the first time you and I met was through this format and I’d like to at least call you a little bit of a friend. You’ve been a [inaudible] of my career over the years, and I think this is where the introduction happened the first time. And I’ve done that with most people.

Guy Kawasaki: But see, I’m an idiot because it took me… I’m just a late bloomer. I took up hockey at 44. I took up surfing at 61. I took a podcasting is 65. I don’t know why people listen to my advice. I clearly don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

John Jantsch: I don’t even have to ask you questions because you’re just going along my proposed questions here, but I was going to ask you that. Was their resistance or was it just literally a matter of, “I just didn’t get around to it”?

Guy Kawasaki: What, the podcasting? Okay. So, there’s the high road answer, and there’s the low road answer. Which answer do you want?

John Jantsch: I want them both, and we’ll balance them out.

Guy Kawasaki: Okay. So, the high road is, I’m at the end of my career, I’ve made a lot of connections. I’ve made a lot of friends. I can tap into that so that I can interview a Jane Goodall, a Margaret Atwood, a Steve Wozniak, Steve Wolfram, Bob Cialdini. I can get to these people because I’ve been dealing with them for years and years. So, I have this tremendous competitive advantage to interview people that many people could not get unless you’re Terry Gross maybe Malcolm Gladwell. And now, I have a much better filter system because I’m so much older that I, theoretically, have acquired some wisdom, so I can ask them the right questions. So, my time has come to do a podcast featuring remarkable people. That’s the high answer. You want to hear the low answer? Well

John Jantsch: Well, let me let you think about the low answer for a minute. So, your podcast is called Guy Kawasaki’s Remarkable People, and that’s, ultimately, what you’re doing. So, the chances of me actually being a guest are pretty minimal, I think.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I have a test that if somebody asks to be on the podcast, they’re not remarkable enough.

John Jantsch: Yeah. Fair test. So, let’s have the low answer then.

Guy Kawasaki: So, the low answer is, when I came out with Wise Guy, I was a guest on many podcasts. Okay? So, I got to talking to somebody’s podcast where I say, “So, how often do you do this?” One guy said 52 times a year., Another guy said 156 times a year. And I said, “So, what’s your model?” “Well, it’s advertising and sponsorship.” I say, “Okay, so where does the advertising go?” He says, “Well, there’s one or two ads in the pre-roll, there’s one or two ads in the middle, and there’s one or two ads at the end.” And I said, “Well, how many people listen to these things?” “A quarter million.” “How much do you get per ad?” “Well, the ones in the front get 20 grand, the ones in the middle will get 15 grand, and the ones at the end get 10 grand.” So, I’m sitting there doing the math. So, let’s say there’s six of them and they’re doing like 15,000 bucks each on average, and I say, “So, six times 15 is 90. Ninety times 52 is fricking four and a half million bucks. That’s 10 times bigger than any advance for a book I ever got. What the hell am I writing books for?

Guy Kawasaki: Simultaneously, at 65, I just don’t want to travel anymore. I would just like surf, and so I said, “Okay, so maybe I can make my podcast successful. Basically podcasts and surf. I don’t know if I’ll make four and a half million dollars a year, but if I come…” Well, I don’t even need to come close to that to be happy. So, maybe this is my path to retirement and a better life and more surfing. So, that’s the low answer. I did it for the money.

John Jantsch: I want to remind you that this episode is brought to you by Klaviyo. Klaviyo helps you build meaningful customer relationships by listening and understanding cues from your customers, and this allows you to easily turn that information into valuable marketing messages. There’s powerful segmentation, email auto-responders that are ready to go. Great reporting. You learn a little bit about the secret to building customer relationships. They’ve got a really fun series called Klaviyo’s Beyond Black Friday. It’s a docu-series, a lot of fun. Quick lessons. Just head on over to klaviyo.com/BeyondBF, Beyond Black Friday.

John Jantsch: So, we’re recording this in December of 2019, depending upon when people are listening to this, you’ve launched the show already, your first guest, or at least the first show I was able to see was Jane Goodall. A lot of people know her work for years with the apes in Africa. What’s the basis of your relationship with her and that interview?

Guy Kawasaki: Okay. So, about a little more than a year ago, the person who runs the TEDx in Palo Alto, out of the blue asked me if I want to interview Jane Goodall for her at TEDx. And that’s like, “Well, duh. Of course I want to interview Jane Goodall at TEDx.” So, it actually cost me a lot of money because I turned down a speech. I could’ve got paid speech for the same time. I said, “No, I can always get another paid speech, but how often can you interview Jane Goodall?” So, I interviewed Jane Goodall for TEDx, which is on YouTube if people want to see it, and I really became friends with her. Sometimes you just hit it off with a person. Right? And so, we’ve been communicating and stuff like that, and I communicate with her staff. And [inaudible] Fitzpatrick and I, we always help Jane Goodall when she wants to raise money or make something go out on social media.

Guy Kawasaki: And then, I decided to do this podcast, and I said, “Well, I need a spectacular, remarkable person as the first guest. Who could be,” and you weren’t available, “so, who could be better than Jane Goodall?” And so, she was going to be in San Francisco, I recorded her, and yeah, I mean, life is good. It’s good to be Guy Kawasaki sometimes.

John Jantsch: Yeah. Well, I know what you have a good relationship because I’ve seen pictures of her grooming you.

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah. She’s looking for lice in my head.

John Jantsch: Which, I think, was reminiscent of her work in the jungle, wasn’t it?

Guy Kawasaki: Yes. Yes.

John Jantsch: So, who else is up for the show? Who else do you plan to talk to in the upcoming weeks?

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah. So, Jane Goodall is out, so is Phil Zimbardo. Phil Zimbardo is the Stanford psychology professor who did the Stanford prison experiment where kids simulated being guards and prisoners. Next week is Stephen Wolfram. He is the creator of Mathematica and Wolfram Alpha, the search engine. Got a PhD at 20, MacArthur Award at 21. The next week after that is Margaret Atwood, the author of Handmaid’s Tale. And then, believe it or not, we have Wee Man, Wee Man from Jackass, the MTV series and movie. And then, I have Bob Cialdini, who I’m sure you’re heard up because you’re into sales and marketing like I am, so I have Bob Cialdini.

John Jantsch: He’s been on this show. Yeah.

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah, he’s great. So, basically, that’s the kind of people I have. I mean, they pass the remarkable test.

John Jantsch: Yeah. So, what do you have to learn to do this? This is a different format. This is different technology. This is maybe a different skill. What’s it going to take to get Guy Kawasaki to the Remarkable Podcast host?

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I’ve done a lot of panel moderation and stuff and fireside chats, where I’ve been on both sides, so it’s not like, to use a Jane Goodall analogy, it’s not like I was Tarzan and I got off a ship from Africa and now I’m in London and I have to figure everything out. So, I’ve been to this rodeo, maybe wearing a different hat, but I’ve been to this rodeo. And have you listened to the Jane Goodall one?

John Jantsch: I listened to about half of it. Yeah. In preparation for [inaudible 00:15:22].

Guy Kawasaki: Okay. So, you could see that… Well, one is, to tell you the truth, I believe that the role of the podcast or is to make the guests look great. And I also believe that, if you look at the minutes spent who’s talking, it should be about 90/10, or 90 is Jane and 10 is Guy. And so, that’s something, and a lot of people have said, “I really like your podcast, Guy, because you let Jane talk.” I think a lot of podcasts, it’s all about them, right? They’re just talking and talking and talking, and then, finally, the guest gets to say something and then the podcaster gets back on a riff. So, I don’t step on my guests. Now, honestly, I don’t know how to get subscribers or advertisers, but I figure, if I get all these guests and I produce a great podcast, I’m a big believer in, “If you build it, they will come.”

John Jantsch: Well. I think that’s a lot of it. And you’re also doing the networking. You contacted me to tell me about it, and you contacted a lot of people to tell them about it. I mean, that’s kind of Marketing 101, right?

Guy Kawasaki: Well, nothing is easy, right? Well, if you’re Michelle Obama and you started Michelle Obama Remarkable People Podcast, I’m pretty sure you’ll get 5 million subscribers in the first day, but I’m not Michelle Obama.

John Jantsch: Do you listen to podcasts?

Guy Kawasaki: Yes.

John Jantsch: Yeah. What are some of your favorites?

Guy Kawasaki: I listen to Malcolm Gladwell’s Revisionist History, who I’m trying to get as a guest. I listened to Wait Wait… Don’t Tell Me! I listen to Freakonomics. I listen to Joe Rogan. I listen to Terry Gross. I’m a big NPR fan, basically.

John Jantsch: Right, right, right. Yeah. Yeah, you can [inaudible] a lot of those shows have moved to the podcast format, but obviously, there’s still broadcast, as well. Where do you think this is going? The audio… And again, maybe you’re not in the position right now where you want to future cast trends and things because you’re just trying to figure it out to make it work for you, but it seems to me like audio content right now… I mean, podcasts had been around a while, but it seems to me like audio content is really hot and it’s going to get hotter.

Guy Kawasaki: Yes. I think that podcasting is like artificial intelligence. So, artificial intelligence for the last 30 years was going to be the next big thing, right? And finally it is. So, I think we may be there with podcasting. A lot of it is… It’s critical mass. I mean, in a sense, Apple has created a critical mass for podcasting. In the same sense, I think, one of the things I’ve noticed is QR codes, which was supposed to be a big thing, Apple finally made it a real big thing because now when you just put your camera on a QR code, you don’t have to download a QR reader, right? So, all of a sudden, yeah, QR codes makes sense. And I think Apple did the same thing with podcasts, that now that they’ve done so much and they put a podcast player on every iOS device, Apple has created another market.

John Jantsch: Yeah. And I’ve been doing this before, that was the case and that was one of the initial challenges with podcasts. It was hard to show people how to listen.

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah. Yeah.

John Jantsch: Where do you think Spotify fits into this? It seems to me like Spotify is really gaining some traction in the podcast space. Do they take on Apple, or is it just broaden the universe for everyone?

Guy Kawasaki: Hell if I know. I mean, based on two episodes, I don’t consider myself an expert. But Spotify has taken a different position. In a sense, they’re like Netflix, right? So, Netflix just doesn’t share stuff anymore. Netflix has its own series. Right? So, similarly, Amazon Prime, I watch Jack Ryan on Amazon Prime. Amazon Prime owns Jack Ryan, right? And so, Spotify is trying to create content, not just distribute content, and so they’re supposed be making this huge investment in podcasting. And I guess we’ll look back and say, “Wow, that was a genius move,” or we’ll look back and say, “Well, what a dumbass move.” And I don’t know. If Apple said we’re going to be a content creator… Well, they they do that, right? They created that Morning Show for Apple TV and all that, so I guess we’ll see. I don’t know.

John Jantsch: Yeah. I think that’s the direction a lot of people are going ahead, and I wouldn’t be surprised if, just like you are playing the evangelist role for Canva, I’m wondering when companies like that start bringing in somebody like you to be their podcaster or to be their spokesperson as a podcaster.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, funny you should mentioned that because I’m Chief Evangelist of Canva, and I told Canva, I told you know the other people at Canvas, like, “So, right now you have your Canva social media, the Instagram, Facebook, all that, and you have your email lists, but there’s a limit to how many times you can send an email to someone in your registered user database. And that limit is not 52 times a year.” So, I’m making the case that, if we could get my subscriber base up to a million or so, that is a fricking tremendous weapon. So, if Guy Kawasaki’s Remarkable People has a million subscribers and Guy Kawasaki’s Chief Evangelist of Canva, so at an extreme, the pre-roll, the midway, and the end ads could all be for Canva. So, imagine, 52 times a year you can hit a million people with an ad three times. Oh my God. I mean, life is good.

John Jantsch: Absolutely.

Guy Kawasaki: So, yeah.

John Jantsch: So, I think that’s going to be a role that, I think, you start seeing is that whether they’re media companies or just companies seeing it as another channel, I think are going to start buying up people’s reach with the podcast.

Guy Kawasaki: Yeah. Because, I mean, for the very simple reason that you could hit people much more often with a podcast than you can with an email, MailChimp campaign. Accenture did a five or six podcast series with will.i.am, right? And you couldn’t hit your Accenture database six times, or probably maybe 18 times, because there are multiple ads inside the six episodes. There’s no way you could have hit your installed base with 18 email campaigns. Well, first of all, there’s not 18 interesting email campaigns you could do.

John Jantsch: Yeah. And I think that’s the key point, too, is it’s far more engaging content than an email ever will be.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I mean, in a sense, how does NPR raise money? I mean, you don’t enjoy the pledge drive, right? So, you feel a moral obligation to reciprocate. And similarly, with Wikipedia, you don’t like to see that ugly banner where Jimmy Wales is asking you for money, but because Wikipedia provides such great information and content, you feel a moral obligation to donate. So, you could make the case that if Guy Kawasaki’s Remarkable People has all this great wisdom and advice and inspiration, and then it’s sponsored by Canva, you might feel, “Oh geez, I should help Guy out and use Canva.” That’s the theory anyway.

John Jantsch: Yeah. I think it’s a good theory. Well, Guy, we’ve exhausted our time. It was great catching up with you again, and I wish you luck in this new venture. And I will not ask to be on the show, I will just wait by my email for the invitation, if it should come.

Guy Kawasaki: Well, I hope someday to send you that email.

John Jantsch: All right, well-

Guy Kawasaki: Let’s hope that you have four files.

John Jantsch: Yeah, we’re recording with some new new technology here that I think is going to just be awesome, so I-

Guy Kawasaki: If you don’t have four files, it’s my fault for convincing you to do this, and I will appear again.

John Jantsch: That’s right. All right. Well, I get to say to you, mahalo, then.

Guy Kawasaki: Take care.

from http://bit.ly/2O719G4

[freshmusicfreak]

Having never been to Dreamstate SoCal, I didn’t really know what to expect other than all trance everything.  So when I found out my long-time Seattle buddies were going to Trancegiving, and it’s their yearly tradition, I was ecstatic! Although we’ve been going to shows for 13 years, this would be the first massive event I’ve traveled to and attended with them.  There is truly nothing better than rolling into a show with all your friends. And every time you feel a huge moment of joy, looking around and seeing the faces of a dozen people you love.

And my GOD, the lineup!!!  There were so many conflicting artists playing at the same time, picking who to see was difficult at best.  But since I’ve been going to shows since 2000, my choices tend to be different from most. I happily give up seeing big names I’ve seen before for lesser known artists I’ve never seen.  So here’s my highlight reel…

Estiva can always be counted on for a well thought out set that goes from smooth to bumping in minutes without ever feeling jarring.  One of my favorite things about great trance artists is their ability to use music to elicit so many emotions in a single hour. Estiva brought all the highs and lows, and rather than concentrating on individual tracks, I just let the music and lights wash over me and simply absorbed the atmosphere in its entirety.  Insomniac’s visuals were absolutely stunning. They moved with the tunes from starry nights to consoles, then purple skies streaming up towards the ceiling. Amazingly, there was still room to dance up front center stage so I let myself move and groove to the music with no concern of bumping into anyone.

Early In the Night | Photo Credit Danielle Renee

Amazing Visuals | Photo Credit Danielle Renee

Still Room to Dance | Photo Credit Henry Brian Morton

One of my girlfriends absolutely LOVES Giuseppe Ottaviani and I’ve been dying to see him, so I stuck to the Dream stage.  He immediately had me jumping up and down cheering for Eat Sleep Rave Repeat and then just kept it going with Your Mind. I looked around at that moment, and sure enough, everyone was losing it.  Knowing we had hours yet to go, Giuseppe calmed it down just a wee bit and brought in more melody and vocals with a nod to two artists making appearances later in the show, Markus Schulz and Emma Hewitt.  But he only gave us a small break cause he brought it back up right away. The second I heard the first Oooooohhhhh vocals I shrieked like the Anjuna fan that I am cause I instantly recognized Northern Soul.  And of course, I was joined singing by every other Anjunafam of which there were A LOT. One of my FAVORITE things about electronic music is hearing an original track and then every other artist’s twist on it. Giuseppe, thank you for this hard-hitting version of an already phenomenal song!  Unlike most, I almost never cry at shows cause I’m in my happy place. But Giuseppe recorded a message at the end of his set that made me tear up and was the perfect ending to a perfect set. “The reason why I’m here is actually the same reason why you are here. I finally found what I’ve been searching for.  Something that can make me feel good. Something to be proud of. Something that’s able to put a smile on my face even when things go wrong. If you hear this message it’s because you’ve finally made it. If you’re here now it’s cause we walk the same way. My name is Giuseppe Ottaviani and I’m a music lover.”

It was finally time to journey to the Vision stage for Solarstone, another trance legend I’ve never gotten to see.  By the time I found my perfect spot, he’d already started and was dropping from some heavy beats down to lingering chords, just in time for the lights to go dark.  An instant later, the lights exploded on from behind, like the iris of an eye. I wasn’t kidding when I said Insomniac’s visuals were stunning! Solarstone was absolute perfection in his Purified shirt as I always tell my friends I’m not a trance snob, I’m a purist.  And then, bless his heart, he played Solarcoaster, although I didn’t hear my favorite part with Patricia Arquette saying “You’re so cool, you’re so cool, you’re so cool.” The Seattle Trance Fam flag began waving as the words Vive La Trance rang out. His set was far more progressive than the others I’d seen so far and much smoother, which lent to a calmer crowd taken over by the beauty of his set.  Finally. Finally! I got to see Solarstone, and he did NOT disappoint.

Blasts of Light | Photo Credit Zach Hightower

Vision Stage | Photo Credit Letitia Luu

All the Totems | Photo Credit Michael Nguyen

Having recently gotten into psytrance (I know, I know, I’ve always been a late bloomer), I felt like a kid on Christmas day and Vini Vici did NOT disappoint.  I lost it from the moment they dropped Armin van Buuren’s Great Spirit, a track that always makes me feel like I’m dancing around a fire like the wilderness girl I am.  And it didn’t stop cause they went straight into Free Tibet and Chakra, tracks I’ve been doing my morning runs to cause it’s hard not to keep moving when there’s psytrance on.  Somewhere in there, they threw in a crazy psy mix of Ferry Corsten’s Rock Your Body Rock and then moved right into Chakra. There’s a guitar-like sample in it that reminds me of the dramatic duels in old cowboy movies.  In front of me, I was seeing people’s totems and light up balloons dancing up and down with the beats. They just kept bringing the fire and hit us with even more of my favorite tracks. Astrix’s Adhana followed by a remix of Insomnia, a track that reminds me of high school when I first fell in love with Faithless.  And they kept that train of thought going with a Zombie mashup, in tribute to the passing of Dolores O’Riordan in January. Now, I fucking HATE when DJs talk on the mic, but they asked “Are you ready to join The Tribe?” right before the vocals hit and I cheered along with the crowd. Then they blew my mind with a remix of Dash Berlin, Cerf, Mitiska & Jaren’s Man On the Run, which is one of my favorite tracks of 2017.  I had the absolute pleasure of seeing Mitiska drop it in Seattle earlier in the year. Tying everything back into the beginning of their set, I sang along to Great Spirit and didn’t think I could possibly smile any bigger. But HOT DAMN!!! I couldn’t believe I was hearing the ephemeral violin strings of Bittersweet Symphony laid over the chanting. Vini Vici kept me solidly in the present while reminding me of some of my best high school memories.  

Knowing all of my friends would be back at the mainstage for Markus Schulz, I skedaddled back.  And was met with what I always associate with his sets; big drop after big drop with very little mixing and lots of yelling on the mic.  But his track selections are always crowd pleasers. An Anjuna mashup, followed by the beautiful voice of Sarah McLachlan singing Silence, and the ever-popular Pryda Stay With Me.  Markus was up behind the decks waving his arms around like a conductor at the crowd and they were loving it. Me, not so much. Like I said earlier, I’m a purist. I started in the scene when everything was vinyl, DJs didn’t talk on mics, and the music never stopped because the next DJ had to mix into the last record of the previous DJ’s set.  I’ve been told that my tagline is “You do you” cause I’ve been caught saying it so often, and they’re words I live by. So to each their own! Every time I see Markus, I keep my fingers crossed he’ll play Destiny, cause it’s my favorite track of his. I believe in reincarnation and having lost many people in my life, I know I’ll see them in another life, so this song speaks to an integral part of me.  So it was a beautiful end to my inaugural day at Dreamstate SoCal!

Rolling back in on the second day we were all a bit tired due to an after-party that included an impromptu sunrise hot tub session, but we rallied and were ready to rock it!  We got situated at the mainstage and as I was about to leave, Verhuzka came back with a handful of the light up balloons I saw the day before and hands one to each of the girls. My not so inner child jumped up and down with joy and I instantly attached it to my belt so I could have my hands free.  From there I decided to go where the wind blew me and eventually found myself at the Vision stage with Chris Schweizer vs Heatbeat. Since I don’t know them very well I just let their music come at me without concentrating on the nuances. I didn’t recognize many of the tracks, but damn they brought the fire, and the audience was amped!  They kept everyone going with some hard hitters that had everyone jumping. And I can get down to some metal rock, so when they hit us with some electric guitar riffs, it was like they were uniting genres that just don’t seem to belong together. I LOVED IT!

System F | Photo Credit Vivi Hernandez

My Spirit Animal! | Photo Credit Letitia Luu

More Lasers | Photo Credit Zach Hightower

From there I checked back in with the peeps at mainstage where System F was starting up, and DAMN that was a hard act to leave.  Though I’ve never seen System F, I’ve seen Ferry Corsten at least 5 times and I wasn’t about to miss Ace Ventura. I’d never seen him before and every video I’ve seen of his sets, he gets just as into it as the crowd, and that’s something I’ll always adore about DJs.  Though I have no problem flying solo at shows and have done it plenty, it’s always preferable to have your peeps with you. So I was overjoyed Sacha and Liz decided to come along. The Sequence stage was packed! Everyone seemed to have the same plan we did, and understandably so.  From the moment I got there I was jumping and dancing and that’s when the beautiful fucking balloon went from a boon to a curse. It was bopping me in the face, and whenever I’d spin, it’d wrap around me so I moved it from my back to my sides and nothing helped. Ugh! And then I heard it… That drawn-out Blaaze the Fiiiiire.  Not only the first track I recognized in his set, but one of my hands down psytrance favorites. I’m sure it has something to do with the 21 years I lived in Hawaii and was unwillingly force fed reggae on an almost daily basis. But the thing was, Ace Ventura started mixing it in about two minutes before he fully faded it in, so there I was shrieking “I love this track!!!” as people looked at me a bit weird.  Liz took one for the team and held my balloon while I danced up a storm. And to be there with my girls, all of us getting down to the psytrance, it was definitely one of my favorite moments of the Dreamstate weekend!

We headed back to the mainstage right before Ace Ventura ended cause we knew it’d be packed for Laserface.  When we found our group again, we had about 12 minutes remaining before the lasers were all set up. Verhuzka found me and said she was dying laughing watching me walk through the crowd when I’d first left the group.  I walk quickly and apparently people were ducking and dodging and getting hit in the face by my balloon, completely unbeknownst to me. I cracked up with her just thinking about the image, especially considering I’d just experienced getting bopped in the face by my own balloon while dancing.  OOPSIES!

Finally, the countdown ended and we heard “Prepare yourself for Laserface.”  Well, I was READY! After all the videos I’d watched of the Laserface shows, I was prepared to have my mind blown.  But I was apprehensive cause it was Gareth Emery who panders to the masses, and I was right to be so. He threw down a lot of hard-hitting beats and kept the excitement up, but as I already knew, no visual spectacle will ever make up for a shitty set.  In my opinion, mashups can be really fun if done well and mixed appropriately, but Gareth Emery just dropped them in one after the other with no apparent flow. Daft Punk vs Rage Against The Machine to a Killers mashup to an Arctic Monkeys mashup. Where the rest of the night had just flowed smoothly, the Laserface set made me feel like a marionette being jerked around by a psychotic puppeteer.  Did the majority of the crowd love it? YES. And Emma Hewitt performing live was pretty incredible. Her vocals were on point! However, I’ll never attend another Laserface show. It’s just not for me. But if you love it, YOU DO YOU!

Photo Credit Zach Hightower

Photo Credit Zach Hightower

Photo Credit Zach Hightower

Photo Credit Zach Hightower

What I loved most about Dreamstate SoCal was that despite it being an all trance event, I felt like I got amazing variety skipping between the different stages.  And Insomniac really wasn’t kidding when they said the most important headliner of all is YOU. All of the staff were fun and courteous. I even caught a bunch of them dancing!  So it looks like I’ll be making it an annual tradition, along with my oh so fabulous Seattle friends. Until next year Dreamstate SoCal! Thanks for an unforgettable first Trancegiving!

@DreamstateSoCal #trancegiving @insomniacevents #insomniac Having never been to Dreamstate SoCal, I didn’t really know what to expect other than all trance everything.