#give myself grace a little bit more rest then i can start doing more than

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

sometimes u just have to lean into the grandpa core and accept if u want to leave genuine comments sometimes you're gonna say things like "thanks for sharing" bc its just cool ppl share their free time with u

[verstappen-cult]

STUPID CUPID, M. VERSTAPPEN

CHAPTER 01: OF ALCOHOL AND BAD DECISIONS

✶ SUMMARY. Making decisions when you’ve had too much to drink is the worst thing someone can do, but it’s exactly what Lando does. He has 100€, a plan and a friend in need of a new camera. What could possibly go wrong?

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. oscar being an overprotective brother. alcohol consumption. i don’t specify what they’re studying, just that they’re in the same university & some of them share classes. use of Y/N. attempted humor. attempted banter. a little bit of landoscar.

NEXT PART | SERIES MASTERLIST.

“Remember to keep your things close to you at all times. Do you still have the pepper spray I gave you last summer?” Your brother talks as he walks by your side. He woke you up this morning to have a last walk around campus, so you won’t get lost Monday morning on your first day. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before adding, “I’m always gonna be around but you need to—”

“Oscar,” You place a hand on his shoulder to make him stop. “I’m ten minutes younger than you, and I’ve been traveling around Europe alone for the last four months. I think I can handle myself.”

“I just want you to be careful.”

“If I survived High School, I think I can survive anything.” 

He smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders to resume walking. “I can’t believe you finally decided to join me here. This past year has been awful without you.”

“You’re exaggerating.” You chuckle, wrapping your own arm around his waist. “I just needed some time away to clear my head,” You shrug, a hesitant smile gracing your lips. There’s so much inside your head, so much you want to say to him, but you’re not brave enough to say it out loud. You’ve never been. “And I know our parents wanted us to go to the same university since, like, forever. I couldn’t disappoint them.” Not again.

You’re passing outside the Ice Rink when you run into one of Oscar’s friends.

“Hey!” One guy, whose name you can’t remember, approaches you both. He’s wearing his hockey uniform, sport bag hanging over his shoulder and a hockey stick in his left hand. “We missed you at practice today, mate. Hey, Y/N.” 

His smile is so contagious, you feel bad for not remembering his name. You turn to look at your brother and just one exchange of glances is enough for him to understand. 

“Hey, Alex.” He pulls away from you to clasp a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I just wanted to show my sister some places.”

“Oh yeah! You start on Monday, right?” You don’t even have time to open your mouth before he’s speaking again. “Are you nervous?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod one time. “A little,” It’s the only thing you’ve been thinking about since you moved in with your brother a few days ago. There is so much you still need to do, the rest of your clothes aren’t even here yet, but you are more worried about finally starting your uni life than anything else. “but I prefer not to think about it.”

“I keep telling her she has nothing to worry about.” The smile on your brother’s face is the same one you saw six months ago before he left for his second year at University and you left for your trip, the ‘i’m so proud of you’ kind of smile. “She’s sharing classes with Charles, actually.”

“Oh, so you’re gonna be in good hands.” Alex says it with a laugh, that only earns him a hit on the head from your brother. “Anyway, we have that party tonight at Lando’s. Are you coming?” 

You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up in a blush. “No, we can’t. Maybe another time.”

“You can,” You interrupt him. It is the second time he turns down an invitation just to stay with you. “I need to finish organizing the last of my stuff. Boring stuff. You should definitely go, it’s Saturday, Osc.” 

“Yeah but—”

“He’ll be there.” Alex tries to hide his laugh but doesn’t do a good job. 

“I’m pretty sure someone’s gonna be very happy.”

“Goodbye, Alex!” 

Oscar grabs your arm, giving you barely enough time to turn around and wave a goodbye to his friend before he drags you away.

“What was he talking about?” 

“Don’t know,” He simply answers, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “What do you say we grab some lunch?”

The party’s in full swing when Oscar walks through the door of his friend’s apartment. 

It is definitely a party organized by Lando; too many people in a cramped space, his DJ friend in a corner of the living room and everyone making out with everyone. Just the kind of party only Lando likes. 

Oscar makes his way into the kitchen, needing some liquid courage. 

“You came!” Alex shows up out of nowhere, he notices his friend is holding a beer in his left hand as he wraps his arm around his shoulders. Oscar doesn’t know how much he’s had to drink, but he smells too much like alcohol for his liking. 

Leaning against the kitchen counter, full of different kinds of alcohol and chips, is Charles and his girlfriend. 

“Hey,” Charles raises his own beer as a greeting. “Where’s your sister?”

“Don’t tell me you left her alone in your apartment.” Charles’ girlfriend frowns, throwing daggers at him. 

Oscar throws his hands up in surrender. “She didn’t want to come. I insisted but she still has things to organize.” 

“You should give her my number,” Alex, Charles’ girlfriend says with a smile, snuggling closer to his boyfriend. “I’m sure we’re gonna get along.” 

Oscar opens his mouth to actually ask for her number when the thunderous voice of none other than Lando Norris interrupts him.

“Oscar! You came!” Lando hugs him from behind, spilling some of his drink on the floor. But he doesn’t even notice, he’s more focused on finding his cheek to kiss. 

“Hey, Lando.” Oscar blushes. Blushes hard. He’s glad the dim lighting can hide how Lando makes him feel. “Good party.”

Lando smiles, sliding next to him and bumping shoulders. “Glad you like it.” Oscar finds himself returning the smile. 

“Please stop flirting in front of me or I’m gonna throw up in your faces.” Alex rolls his eyes and Lando hits him in the chest. 

Oscar finds it cute the way Lando’s cheeks heat up at the joke. He downs the last of his drink and Oscar has to fight the urge to wipe a drop of liquor from his bottom lip. 

He hasn’t even had a drink. What’s wrong with him?

He’s thankful when Charles hands him a beer, so he has something else to do rather than stand there like an idiot ogling at Lando and wondering what his lips would taste like. 

One minute they’re all hanging out in the kitchen, drinking and talking about the next hockey game — the boys threatening him if he misses another practice — and the next one he’s sitting on the couch with Lando glued to his side, one of his legs over his lap. 

Oscar looks down at his phone, his last text to you still without an answer. 

[00:25] Oscar: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

He sighs, typing a new message. 

[00:30] Oscar: I hope you’re just busy and nothing bad happened.

[00:31] Oscar: I’m going to buy pizza on my way back home.

“Oscar?”

He immediately looks up to find Lando looking at him with a pout. 

“Sorry, I needed to text my sister.” 

He reaches forward and boops Oscar on the nose with his index finger. “You worry too much. Isn’t she the same age as you?”

“Well, yeah.” Oscar feels a little silly now but doesn’t say anything. “But she doesn’t know anyone around here, so I don’t wanna leave her alone for so long.”

Lando flops his head onto Oscar’s shoulder and gazes up at him with his big, brown eyes. 

“You’re cute.”

Oscar can’t help himself. He lifts his hand and pushes an errant curl behind Lando’s ear, fingers lingering on his cheek. 

“You’re cute, too.” Oscar says, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

Lando’s eyes are wide as he stares at Oscar. 

Oscar breathes into the air and Lando’s expression softens as he moves closer, breaths mingling and faces flushed. They’re so close that Oscar can count the freckles on his face. 

The moment is interrupted by the ping of Oscar’s phone announcing a new message. 

Oscar pulls away, hands reaching for his phone beside him. 

[00:48] You: sorry was busy trying to fit all my clothes in your tiny closet 

[00:48] You: pizza sounds good! im starving

[00:49] You: hope you’re…

He doesn’t finish reading the third message, he just gets up after the second one, almost throwing Lando off the couch. 

“Wha—what happened?” Lando is confused, his pupils wide and a faint blush still on the top of his cheeks. 

“Sorry, I have to go. My sister needs me.”

“But we were about to,” The curly-haired boy tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, not really wanting to say the word ‘kiss’ out loud.

Oscar types a quick message, letting you know that he’s on his way, not even listening or looking at Lando. “See you Monday!”

Oscar is out of there in record time, leaving the party and a very confused and frustrated Lando behind. 

Lando groans, head hanging over the back of the couch, and hides behind his hands.

A laugh startles him, making him look through his fingers. “That was awful, mate.” His best friend’s leaning against the wall behind the couch, a glass of —he assumes— gin and tonic in his hands.

“Were you watching us?” Lando wants to dig a hole and crawl in. “You perv!”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me the first time I announced myself. You were too busy trying to get laid.”

Lando groans again, “I barely know Oscar’s sister but I don’t like her.”

Max laughs, plopping down next to him. Lando takes the still very full glass out of his friend’s hand and downs all the liquid, wincing as he’s not used to the taste. 

“You should’ve run after him.”

He perks up, “Should I?”

“No, you idiot.” Max looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. “Are you that desperate to get laid?”

“It’s not that.” Lando pouts, turning his body to the right so he’s facing him. “I really like Oscar. Like I have a huge, fat crush on him since the first time I saw him at hockey practice a year ago.”

“And I’m sure he knows it.” Max says, sarcastically.

“We barely talk,” Lando really wants the earth to swallow him whole. “well, he barely talks. I don’t know if he’s just shy or doesn’t like me.” He sighs, looking at his friend, who is listening expectantly. “And when I finally decide to do something, his sister moves in with him. It’s great. Just great.” He throws his hands in the air, tired, frustrated. Sexually frustrated more than anything. 

“What a cockblock, uh?” 

“Exactly! You’re the only one that gets me, Maxie.” Lando throws himself at him, and Max has barely any time to grab him by the waist to stop him from falling face first onto his lap. “I wish I didn’t catch feelings so fast. Just—like you! Fucking my way around, no strings attached. How do you do it?” 

Max laughs, patting his friend on the back when he starts hiccuping. 

“You’re too soft for that.” 

“I’m not!” He pulls away, eyebrows furrowed. “I need to do something before I go mad. I really want Oscar to notice me.” 

“Oh, believe me, he notices you.” But Lando is deep in his thoughts, bottom lip between his teeth. Max can almost see the cogs working inside his head. 

“Does she not have a life? Friends?” Lando asks absentmindedly. 

“Well, you said she just moved in.” 

“So that’s what she needs.” 

“What?” Max can barely keep up. 

“A life!” Lando pulls out his wallet, and it takes him three failed attempts to pull out a 100€. He hands the money to Max without another word. 

Max looks at him, and then the money in his hands. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I don’t know,” Lando shrugs. “just make sure she has a life.” 

“What?” 

“Money,” He takes his friend’s hand and places the money on his palm. “so you can take her out or something. I don’t care.” 

“Hold on a second.” Max sits up, hand brushing through his hair. “You want me to take her out?” 

“Yes! If you take her out, she has a life. Then, I can shoot my shot with Oscar without having to worry about his sister.” Lando looks like the cat that got the cream, eyes glistening and everything. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because you love me. And everyone wins.” 

“What do I win?” Max wants to laugh but the seriousness on his friend’s face stops him. 

“A pretty girl.” Lando simply answers. “And 100€.”

“How do you know she’s pretty?” 

Lando looks at him beneath his eyelashes, his lips in a pout. “Please do this for me.” 

Max thinks about it for a second. 

He really thinks about the whole plan. 

He would be helping a friend — his best friend. He would be hanging out with a pretty girl and, if everything goes well, he would be getting in that same pretty girl’s bed. 

And he needs a new camera. 

“Just one time? Or you want this to be a regular thing?” If he’s going to do this, he may as well make the most out of it. “Because if you want me to keep her busy, that means I’d have to take her out and that means more money.” 

“I can’t think anymore.” Lando throws his arm over his eyes, the music too loud for him to hear his own thoughts. “Let’s see how it goes first. Then, we talk about more money. Now just let me sleep, I’m gonna have the worst headache of my life tomorrow.” 

“Well, you got yourself a deal.”

The first two classes weren’t that bad. 

By the third one you felt a lot more comfortable. Even more so when you recognised one of your brother’s friends in the same class as you. 

Charles gave you some tips about certain professors and what you needed to expect in your first year. He’s in his second year now, so you listened very closely to everything he had to say. 

You’re one of the first ones to walk in the lecture hall, so you have enough time to find a seat and answer one of the dozen text messages from your parents asking about your day. 

And the other dozen from your brother. 

[15:23] Oscar: Want to have lunch together?

[15:28] Oscar: How’s your day going? Any news?

[15:35] Oscar: I just bumped into Charles. He says you’re doing good! 

[15:40] Oscar: I have hockey practice today. 

[15:42] Oscar: In case you want to come and walk home together. 

You sigh, a small smile gracing your lips.

[16:02] You: all good so far. i have a very weird professor lol 

[16:04] You: charles is such a nice guy, it made my classes so much easier and fun 

[16:07] You: i really want to see you playing hockey so i might go look 

[16:08] You: my last class is about to start so i’ll talk to you later. love you!

You’re hitting send when a presence startles you.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks, pointing to the seat right next to yours. 

You look around the lecture hall, still pretty much empty.

“Uhm, no?” You can count on the fingers of one hand how many people are attending the class. But he still chooses to sit next to you. 

The teacher comes in a few minutes later, a few more students after him, but even then the lecture hall feels empty. 

“Hey,” The stranger says, leaning in to whisper without drawing the teacher’s attention. 

You turn your head around, forcing yourself to move away when you realize how close he really is. “Yes?” You say, typing away on your computer as the professor gives the class the list of books needed for the semester.

“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” He has a sheepish smile. Only then you notice that he doesn’t carry a backpack, or books. He’s just there, in a class where he’s supposed to be taking notes, without anything.

You dig into your bag, pulling out a pen and a sheet of paper. 

His smile grows. “Oh, thank you!” 

“Are you sure you’re in the right class?” 

“Yes, why do you ask?” He turns his attention back to the professor, who’s saying something you should definitely be paying attention to, but you’re more focused on the boy sitting next to you. 

“No reason at all.”

You make it through the first hour without distractions. Well, apart from the tapping of the stranger next to you and his constant sighing and twisting on his seat. 

When the professor excuses himself to answer an important call, you know you have to say something. 

“Can you stop, please? You’re distracting me.”

“Oh,” He leans a little closer, “Am I?” 

You groan, asking yourself if staying in that seat is really worth it.

You don’t want to look at him, you really don’t. The first time you saw how big and blue his eyes were, you knew you wouldn’t be able to look at him again without getting lost in them. 

So, you simply nod while pretending to look for a folder in your computer. 

“I noticed the first time you kept typing the same line over and over again.”

Your blush starts at your neck and goes all the way up to your ears.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re doing it again,” His breath hits you on the cheek, too close for your liking. “You know you’ve been opening and closing the same folder for five minutes now, no?”

You hold your breath, trying to regulate your heartbeat. 

He doesn’t say anything else, choosing to focus on what the professor is trying to teach you. However, you know you won’t be paying much attention. 

You can still feel the warmth emanating from him, making you feel hot all over. His closeness is enough to put you on edge. 

Just when you think he won’t be bothering you again, he slides a piece of paper over to you.

You ignore it for about five seconds until you can’t anymore. 

You unfold it. 

‘Your hair is pretty’

It sends a thrill down your spine. The ghost of a smile crossing your face, something inside you making a funny little flip. 

You force yourself to look at him, only to find his gaze already on you. The blonde stranger tilts his head and observes you for a while, and when you don’t know what to do, and afraid of giving away how flustered you really are, you simply roll your eyes as an answer, immediately going back to paying attention, or pretending to. But the professor is nowhere to be seen and everyone is picking up their things to get out of there as fast as possible. 

Finally. 

You pack up your own things, slipping his note inside your notebook without him noticing, and stand up ready to run away. 

You only make it out of the lecture hall before he falls into step with you.

“Hey, you forgot this.” He shoves the pen into your face, almost making you trip over your own feet. 

“You can have it.” You walk a little faster, but it seems he doesn’t want to leave you alone. “Pretty sure you need it more than me.” It’s just a whisper, a comment for yourself more than for him. 

“Uh, feisty!” 

You stop, turn around and take a deep breath. Plastering a smile on your face, you say, “You are annoying.” And it seems that you amuse him, because he fights back a smile. A very pretty smile, you notice. “Goodbye.”

“I’m Max, by the way!”

“I don’t care!” You’re not proud, but he totally deserves the middle finger you give him.

He doesn’t need to know but you’re glad you can put a name to that handsome face.

You check your texts as you make your way to the ice rink and, as expected, a message from your brother awaits you. 

[17:45] Oscar: Something special you want for dinner today?

It’s cute how much he cares about you. Maybe too much sometimes, but you wouldn’t trade your twin and overprotective brother for anything in the world. Even if it means you have to put up with the hundreds of text messages and death glares directed at anybody who dares to even look at you.

“Texting a boyfriend?”

You look at Max from the corner of your eyes; he’s still walking a few feet behind. “Are you following me?”

He laughs. “Why would I be following you?”

“You’re weird.” 

“I’ve been called worse.”

How can someone be so attractive and annoying at the same time? 

Unfortunately, he’s headed the same way. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” If you slow down to wait for him, well, who can blame you?

He cocks his head and the edge of his mouth quirks up in a smirk. “Why? Are you into hockey players?”

“You can’t have a normal conversation, can you?”

Max laughs, opening the front doors and moving to the side to let you in first. 

“Yes, I’m on the hockey team.” Max chuckles, “Are you on the hockey team?”

“My brother,” You answer him, and Max raises his eyebrows. “His name’s Oscar. Do you know him?”

“Are you asking me if I know my own teammate?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. You’ve never felt so stupid talking to someone before, but that’s exactly how this guy makes you feel. Have you forgotten how to talk or he just loves being an idiot and getting under your skin? 

“Max!” 

Both of you turn around to find a curly-haired boy waving in your direction.

You recognize the bright, brown eyes of Lando Norris immediately. 

“Hey, Y/N!” He says when you approach him, putting his arm around your shoulder. “I see you’ve met Max.”

You nod, “Yes. He’s in one of my classes.” Max winks at you. He has the audacity to wink. “Are you on the hockey team too?”

“Oh nah, that’s not for me. Max is actually my roommate.” Lando explains as Max leans against the side of the bleachers beside you. “I’m here as his moral support.”

Max laughs. A full belly-laugh. 

Your head snaps at him so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. 

“Anyway,” Lando’s eyes widen, like silently saying something to his friend, before turning to look back at you. “Are you here to see your brother?”

“Yes. I don’t know anything about hockey, though.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t either. I’m here to see the hot guys.” You laugh at how honest he is. “You got plans tonight?” Lando asks after a few minutes, getting comfortable on the bleachers beside you, seeing some of the players getting out of the changing rooms. 

“I don’t know if Oscar has something planned, but I don’t think so.” You fold your arms over your chest, feeling a little cold. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

“I know this pub that serves the best Guinness in town.” He states, nudging you. “You and your brother should come.”

You shrug. It is a very appealing invitation after all, and after your first day of classes you definitely deserve it. “It sounds like a place I want to know.”

“Great!” Lando claps his hands together, then looks at his friend. “You should join us too, Max.”

Please say no, you think. 

Max shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

Great. Just great.

“I’m gonna get ready before the coach starts screaming at me again.” Max interrupts, a lopsided grin on his face. “Pleasure to meet you, Piastri.” He bows, like one of those Lords in a period drama, tilting his head up a little and winking once again, making your heart stop for a second. 

He disappears before you have time to think about something witty to say. 

You look back at the ice rink, spotting your brother from a distance. He sees you almost immediately, and waves at you with enthusiasm. You wave back, a soft smile spreading across your features.

Well, you have an hour to come to terms with spending the afternoon with the most annoyingly attractive, blonde haired and blue eyed boy you’ve ever met. What’s the worst that could happen?

✶ TAGLIST — @14fa. @hiireadstuff. @lolzblues55. @maifics. @littlegrapejuice. @landoslutmeout. @nikfigueiredo. @nciolisa. @rafexoxo. ✶

GWEN RAMBLES — well, hello! thank you so much if you made it this far. i don’t know when the next chapter will be posted. i’m already working on it, but it may take me a few days. if you want to be added to this series taglist you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box! as you know, comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated. i’ll see you in the next update!

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[aventurineswife]

idk if this one is a little too dark or anything

but as a req i liked the idea of a dissociating!reader x aven, who always tries to be there for when it happens. 🤍

i hope in some capacity this made sense 😓 (and i might be calling myself out a bit here oop-)

on an end note-i hope ur doing well and remembering to take care of urselfff!! 💕

I'm With You

Summary: When you experience dissociation, Aventurine stays by your side, offering quiet comfort and patience. Through his gentle presence and soft words, he grounds you, bringing you back to reality and reminding you that you’re never alone in the struggle.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Dissociation, Fluff, Established Relationship, Gentle Aventurine, Emotional Support, Reassurance, Intimacy.

Warnings: Themes of dissociation, implied mental health struggles.

A/N: It's completely fine, anon! It's not dark at all! And don't worry about it, I enjoy a bit of challenges (not really lmaoo). Remember to take care of yourself too!!

The cool, dim evening has settled, casting long shadows over the room as Aventurine sits beside you, his arm resting gently on your shoulder. You’re barely aware of the world around you—an unexplainable heaviness has clouded your thoughts, and the sense of reality feels like it’s slipping away, leaving only a distant, hollow feeling. You’ve been here before, in this numb, detached place. And though you can barely hear or feel it, Aventurine’s presence grounds you, his hand warm and reassuring, like an anchor in a storm.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice low and calm, like a thread trying to pull you back. You don’t immediately respond, but his words have a way of finding their way through the fog. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here, alright?”

Aventurine’s presence is steady, warm, filled with patience. He sits beside you without demanding your attention, offering quiet comfort, his fingers lightly stroking your shoulder. Slowly, he reaches over and takes your hand, wrapping it in his. He knows how the dissociation pulls you away from the present, away from him, and yet he never resents it. Instead, he finds ways to help, little reminders that you’re here, that he’s here, that you’re not alone in this strange, untouchable place.

“You know,” he starts, a small smile gracing his lips, “I saw this mooncake the other day that had a little cat face on it. It looked so…well, I thought it was too cute to eat. I even took a selfie with it.” He chuckles softly, and the gentle sound of his laugh breaks through your haze, if only a little. “Imagine that, me, a mooncake, and a cat face. Pretty ridiculous, right?”

You blink, and the faintest hint of a smile plays on your lips. Aventurine notices, and he gives your hand a small, comforting squeeze.

“There you are,” he murmurs, his eyes full of warmth and relief. “You don’t have to come all the way back to me yet. I’ll meet you wherever you are.”

It’s strange, having someone who understands like this, who doesn’t push, who knows how to reach into the quiet, lonely parts of you and make you feel seen, even when you’re fading from yourself. Aventurine is still holding your hand, tracing circles over your knuckles. His touch, his presence—it’s grounding, a small reminder that you’re tethered to something, to someone who cares for you deeply.

After a moment, he speaks again, his voice still low and soothing. “You’re so much stronger than you realize, you know that? But you don’t have to be strong all the time. You have me.” His words wrap around you like a warm blanket, softening the edges of your dissociation. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Bit by bit, the room starts to feel more tangible. You’re aware of his arm around your shoulder, the light pressure of his hand in yours, his steady breathing. You turn slightly to look at him, his familiar, comforting smile waiting for you.

“Thank you.” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but Aventurine hears it. His smile widens, and he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Always,” he replies, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “For as long as you need, I’ll be right here.”

You settle back into his embrace, feeling the weight of his arm, the warmth of his presence filling the spaces that felt empty only moments ago. And for the first time in a while, you feel safe, at peace in the comfort of his love, knowing he’ll be there, no matter how far you feel from yourself.

[not-freyja]

LU Write-A-Thon

This our second monthly LU Write-A-Thon, spearheaded by @hotcheetohatredwastaken and myself, will run on July 1, 2024 from 12 am to 12 am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST starting June 30). There is one goal in mind with this event---write as many productive words within that day as humanly possible.

Originally a fun game amongst friends, we are now opening this up to the general fandom-body-public (and happily so) by popular demand!

The event will be hosted on discord, and the link will go out via a reblog/reply/edit combo on this post a few hours before the event starts.

We're so excited to have all of you come and write with us, and the event rules are right here blow the cut:

What counts as writing?

Writing fanfiction or original fiction, leaving or answering comments, outlining, drafting, storyboarding, personal journaling, and (writing) homework---basically, anything that furthered yourself, the LU writing community at large, or your stories with a positive word count, can be included in your final word count.

(Editing previously-written works can also be included, but only if it produces a positive word count, and only those new words may be counted. The goal is to get new words on the page).

What CANNOT be counted as writing?

General chatting, talking about already written works, etc, will not count towards your final word count. Words counted must, as previously stated, further yourself, the writing community, or your stories. This does not mean that you can't chat with your fellow writers---the ⁠⁠chaos-chat thread was created for such a purpose!---but the main goal of this event is to produce and engage in writing in one form or another.

What is a sprint, and what is the schedule for the sprints?

Sprints are (voluntary) periods of concentration in which writers will write as much as they can within a time limit, with some friendly competition to be the one with the most words by the end of the sprint. These will be hosted in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot thread. Every hour, the times :00 to :15 will be dedicated to a 15 minute rest, and then a 45 minute sprint will run from :15 to :59. Moderators will start the sprints periodically---writers can jump in as desired.

Do you have to participate in the sprints?

No. You can write on your own if you wish, just make sure to keep track of your total and only count what is written in the window of 12am to 12am GMT (7pm to 7pm EST) on July 1. Additionally, you can write in the suggested breaks between sprints, but again, make sure to keep track of your word count on your own then.

How should I count my words?

There are two main ways that you can count your words---using the Sprinto Bot in the ⁠⁠sprint-bot channel, or keeping track of them yourself. If you are keeping track of them yourself, especially if you're counting words other than fiction writing where your word count is easy to find, please take care to be as accurate as possible---you can use an application like Google Docs or Word to give you your exact word count, even if you have to copy and paste your ao3 comments into them to get it.

If you're handwriting, this gets a little bit rougher to calculate, but we'll encourage you to give it your best estimate.

We'll be on the honor system here: play fair, and report as accurately as possible.

Where/When should I report my words?

Final word counts will be reported in the ⁠⁠word-count-total channel. We encourage you to make ONE post at the beginning of the marathon with your word count; then, as the event continues, you can edit your post and update your word count there.

You can update your word count at any point during the marathon in the channel mentioned above---in fact, the breaks between sprints would be a great time. And once the event is over, there's a period of grace of up to 6 hours for everyone to get their word counts in, but no more writing is allowed during this time. After 6 hours (6 am GMT; 11pm EST), the thread will be locked, and no more additions will be made. So be sure to get your final count in as soon as possible, once the event is over (or even before, if you must dip early).

What if I can only write a little?

That is fine. We are going to be playfully competitive, but it is not a contest---it is a group project. We are using teamwork to make the line go up. Every word counts, and any amount of writing is a fantastic amount of writing. The goal is to do better than last time AS A GROUP, not individually. So do what you can, and be sure to have fun with the rest of us!

WORD COUNT TO BEAT: 88,978

[luvyurself]

Protective

a/n : he was my first love I was so mad when they gave him a love interest 😩 (also I totally didn’t forget one day nuh uh)

flufftober masterlist

artist for the pics ngh

c/n : she/her pronouns, shy reader, inspired by scarlet witch, your nervous about going to a party, kai loves her, he’s very in love with you, he wuvs you and it’s sick, he’ll protect u from partygoers

______

the mayor of ninjago wanted to personally thank the ninja for their service in protecting city whenever it seemed to attract the most world dominating villains.

so what better way to thank the cities only heroes than a huge fancy party?

each of the ninja were eager to go, the day of the party being filled of excitement and preparing for the night.

all except for one.

it’s not that she was ungrateful, she was very appreciative of the cities gratitude for them. it was just, well, she’s not very fond of massive parties like these.

she tried to get her mind off of it while her and the girls got ready. it helped ease her a bit as nya helped with her hair, skylor and her trying to find the perfect outfit, and even pixel helped pick out some jewelry for her.

though as she stood in the shared bathroom staring at herself in the mirror, she could still feel her hands shaking in nerves as she did her makeup.

she grumbled in frustration as she messed up her eyeliner for what seemed like the millionth time, grabbing the makeup wipe to carefully clean it off.

she flinched as she saw someone standing behind her in the reflection of the mirror, the person giving a small laugh, “calm down, babe, just me.”

she sighed softly, looking at him through the reflection, “kai…you look really nice.” her usually quiet tone filled his ears, making him smile as he pulled on the fabric on his neck.

“didn’t mean to scare you, just needed the mirror to tie this stupid tie.” he mumbled, “I never knew how to do this thing.”

a ghost of a smile graced her lips, placing down her eyeliner pen as she turned to face him, “here.” she spoke, her hands shaking as she grabbed the tie to begin.

she felt kai’s eyes stare at her as he quietly observed her, studying how she bit the inside of her cheek, huffed a bit when she would mess up a little thing.

he let a dreamy sigh escape his lips, “you look gorgeous, you know?” he said, his voice dripping with sweetness.

her ears grew warm at his comment, humming in reply as she pulled the tie up and smooth out his blazer.

an eyebrow quirked at her, “you okay, sweetheart?” he started, looking at her with a concern expression, “you’re, like, more quiet then normally.”

she paused what she was doing, her hands gripping his blazer as she dragged them down and back to her side.

“I guess….I’m a bit….nervous.” she mumbled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know…”

kai’s eyes softened, since the day he met her she was always quiet and shy, her personality always a sharp contrast to what her element was.

he placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it with a steady pace, “hey, it’s okay to be nervous.” he spoke, “I know it’s not really your scenery, but we are all gonna be with you there.”

she sighed, her hand moving to grab his hand off of her shoulder to hold it, “I don’t want you guys to worry about me…you guys should just be there to have fun.”

kai tutted, a teasing smile on his face, “well, it’s a fancy dinner date, so I don’t know how much fun I’ll have there.”

he then spun her around to face the mirror, looking at her through it, “but, what I do know, is that I’ll never leave your side. I will be with you the whole night, and you could just say the word and me and you can leave.”

she gave a little pout at that, “I can’t ask you to do that. I can try and manage myself.”

“you’re not asking,” he insisted, resting his chin on her shoulder, “I’m offering.” he planted a kiss to her neck, her body shivering a bit as his breath fanned against her skin.

“and I know you can manage yourself, you’ve proven that to me multiple times.” he whispered, his arms wrapping around her waist as he took a glance at her, “but, in a very non-toxic-boyfriend-way, I’ll always want to protect you in anyway. even if it’s at fancy pantsy parties.”

she lets out a quiet laugh, her hands resting on top of his as she leaned against his head, “thank you, kai.” she turned to kiss his head, looking back at him.

“besides,” kai started again, grabbing her hand and messing with her fingers, “I can always ask you to spice up the party and make everyone think they are naked.”

“you-“ she pulled her hand away, pressing her hand against his face and carefully pushed it away, “are horrible.”

he let out a groan, “come onnn…master of chaos magic and you can’t have a bit of fun.”

she picked up her eyeliner pen, her hand no longer shaking as she glanced back at him. “your meaning of fun is me mind manipulating the party?” she questioned, beginning her wing.

“oh come on,” she could hear the smile in his voice, “you think it’s hilarious.”

“a little bit.”

[glitter-stained]

I'm always thinking about Jason because fixation so my judgement is biaised because every song I listen to makes me think about at least one of my Jasons, but here are some songs though were definitely written for and about canon Jason Todd, and I will take no criticism (but you are definitely welcome to add your own songs):

-Take me To War, by The Crane Wives

>"But I keep snapping at Goliath hands with all of my tiny might"/ "All of the fire I swallowed, all of the sparks that went down in my guts, I am always burning out"/ "I'll be the sweetest thing to ever scare you"

The Robin -> Red Hood transition is so seamless

-Little Soldiers by the Crane Wives

> "On the broken back of all the words we spared, Like little soldiers in the trenches; It was a march we made towards ruin and despair, But we held hands all the while"

I always rant about how how Jason's character and story is centered around love, this is the song that plays in my head while I'm yapping

-Blue Lips by Regina Spektor

> "He took a step but then felt tired, He said I'll rest a little while; but when he tried to walk again, he wasn't a child"

If you ever wanna be sad about Jason's resurrection, catatonia and stolen childhood, this is the song to listen to

-The Horrors and The Wild by The Amazing Devil

"Think of all the horrors that I promised I'd bring, I promise they'll sing of every Time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child, Witness me old man I am the Wild"

> If Under The Red Hood has one song it's this one

-The Old Witch Sleep and The Good Man Grace by The Amazing Devil

"There's a fire burning/And I'm learning to be/So much more than my tiredness/ So much more than that old witch sleep wishes/ She kisses my eyelids, and I/Breathe"

> If Red Hood: Lost Days (minus the gross bits) has one song it's this one

-Elsa's song by The Amazing Devil

>"And you'll throw some sage and lillies/ And roses where I'll rot/ Of all the flowers you picked/I knew you would forget/ Forget-me-nots"

idk who Elsa is this is about how Jason was grieved but he wasn't remembered

(Yeah I'm pretty convinced that at least either Madeline Hyland or Joey Batey read Under the Red Hood so many of their songs fit so well I restrained myself to three but there are so many)

-A Burning Hill by Mitski

>"I'm tired of wanting more, I think I'm finally worn/ For you have a way of promising things/ And I've been a forest fire"

Jason admitting loss and giving up on begging Bruce is something that can be so personal actually

-Heaven Knows by The Pretty Reckless

>"Now you're on your knees with your head hung low/ Big Man tell you where to go/ Tell them it's good, tell them okay/Don't do a goddamn thing they say"

Crime Alley united!!! Also, "tell the big guy I said hello" :))) (the God/Batman amalgam in Death in the Family is such an incredible one-liner and works so well for Jason omg)

-For the Departed by Shayfer James

>"Now I must finished what I started/I'll write a symphony for the departed/And I have no time for second chances/ So I survive on bourbon blood and backward glances"

The amount of angst, dramatics and intense devotion to his cause at the cost of his life, the literature references, everything about this song? Jason at his angstiest for sure

-Goodbye by Bo Burnham

> "If I wake up in a house that's full of smoke I'll panic/So call me up and tell me a joke/ When I'm fully irrelevant and totally broken dammit/ Call me up and tell me a joke /Oh shit/ You're really joking at a time like this"

exploded warehouse parallel aside, this song feels like not being able to heal because you're not capable of asking for what you really need, wanting to come back but feeling like you aren't allowed to because it would ruin you or the you that was shaped by other's perception of you and most importantly, begging to matter and to have mattered. So. Jason.

[reggies-floatie]

Young Love- Derek Hale X Vampire!Reader

Summary: What if instead of Derek falling for Paige when he was younger, he fell for Y/N?

After Y/N randomly left Beacon Hills leaving a young teenage Derek Hale confused and frustrated, she finally returns after a few years, grown and the new history teacher of Scott and the rest of his pack.

Warning: pure filth, enemies to lovers to strangers to lovers again, switch Derek, a bit of angst and smut and fluff, oral male and female receiving, breast worship, and so on…

Enjoy my beautiful readers-

November 7th, 2004

Sitting alone in the music room, practicing my piano trying to focus I hear this bouncing? Fed up with it, I go out to see who’s making all this noise, the second I enter the hallway I make direct eye contact with the one and only, Derek Hale.

“You mind playing basketball somewhere else?” I say clearly agitated,

“Why would I do that?” The arrogant voice of the Hale boy rings against my ears.

“Because idiot, i’m trying to practice” I state through gritted teeth, my eyes glaring at the raven haired boys.

“ooh looks like we’ve got a feisty girl on our hands boys” he says grinning,

Not wanting to play into his games I roll my eyes and shut the door of the music room, praying that the music from the piano drowns out the idiotic boys in the hallway.

After that interaction, about a week later I’m sat at my usual lunch table with my friends Paige and Grace comparing our test answers for history when all of a sudden Paige looks up and smiles, she grabs Grace and quickly their off. Confused, I look up to see the Hale boy walking towards me, that same cocky grin on his face that he had earlier in the week.

“What do you want Hale.” I say rolling my eyes,

“Just wanted to say I think you look gorgeous today, Y/N”

I choke on my milk, “Sorry?” I ask my face heating up,

“You heard me, Cmon Y/N let’s go on a date” He says confidently,

“Yeah i’m good” I say confused but flattered, “is this some kinda sick joke?”

“Why would i be joking?” Derek says with raised eyebrows, I reluctantly agree on going on the date, little did I know what Id be getting myself into.

After our first date, we would use any excuse to see each other and by seeing eachother, I really mean going into empty classrooms and dark hallways to makeout with eachother until we lost our breath. We were whipped for eachother.

That is until my uncle Alaric called me, he sounded really worried, something was going on with his wife, my aunt and he thought i could help. I had no time to say goodbyes to anyone not Paige or Grace. Not even Derek. Little did I know, me going to Mystic Falls would lead to me becoming what my uncle was sacred of, what he hunted. A vampire.

September 8th, 2012

“Good morning class! My name is Ms. Y/L/N, I’ll be your new history teacher!” I happily speak out, “I hope to get to know each and everyone of you lot very well! I know you all probably don’t want to be here given history is the most boring subject” I say using my fingers as air quotations for the last part.

“But i hope you know i’m trying my very best to make this class enjoyable, I’m not one to give out homework, and i’ll always try to give you as much class time as i can to help you guys, so please if you’ve got any questions i’ll be more than happy to help you guys.” I say making eye contact with a boy with a buzz cut, i can tell he’s going to need help.

The year started our lovely, that is until this blonde girl, Erica, waked into class looking as confident as ever, it was a good look on her don’t get me wrong, but i could tell by her smell that she was a wear wolf. As the year started I could tell who was and wasn’t aware of the supernatural world. the people who I knew that know about it were, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Stiles Stillinski, Erica Reyes, Issac Lahey, and Boyd. I’m sure some others knew but those were my main suspects. There was this one kid, Matt I knew he was up to something i just didn’t know what.

I was going to sub in for Mr. Harris as he randomly didn’t show up and the school didn’t have any substitutes that could come in last minute, so as any good teacher would I rushed over, as i walked in I heard Scott and Stiles whisper about how Derek Hale is trying to expand his pack. Hearing this I stiffened my back and coughed to get the student’s attention. I made direct eye contact with scott and with that, he knew that I knew about him and his friends.

Given that the class was the last of the day, when the bell rang i started writing notes for Mr.Harris when none other than the trouble duo came up to my desk, “Need help?” I ask not looking up from my paper at the two.

“you know about us.” Scott says, his heart rate rising, “are you a wolf too?” the boy with the buzz cut butts in,

“something like that.” I say finishing my notes, “what is it you were saying about derek hale?” I ask, standing up.

Me being impatient, I compelled the two boys into telling me everything they know, once they are done, we chat for a bit more before i’m off. I’m about to get in my car when I notice a tire in flat. I turn around as i’m greeted with Issac claws out pointed at me.

“Hello Mr. Lahey” I speak up, with a calm voice.

“What did something like that mean?” He asks, that sly fucker listened into my conversation with Scott and Stiles,

“Vampire, blood sucker, you know whatever they call us these days.” I say shrugging, “what’s it to you?” I ask the boy, when suddenly it clicks, he thinks i’m the Kanima,

“you sure?” he asks, “I need you to come with me”

“I’m your teacher Issac, me getting into your car would be highly inappropriate.” I know for a fact issac doesn’t care and he won’t leave till i do so with that i get into the passenger seat.

After a quiet drive and a few empty threats, we show up to a loft type place? slowly walking behind him we get a these big doors to which he opens, “Derek, I think we found our Kanima” issac says out loud to which i scoff. he can’t be serious.

“derek’s out right now with boyd but he’ll be back” Erica states, “Ms. Y/L/N?” she says confused as me and isaac walk in,

“Hey Erica” I say with a smile unbothered by the situation, “for reference i’m not the Kanima but i’m glad you guy’s thought of me” I say a smile plastered on my face.

“only. a kanima would say that” Issac says with a scoff, suddenly he cuts me with something normally i would care and it would heal, but i let out a scream, that little shit has vervain. I fall to the ground holding my wound.

What feels like two hours which is really ten minutes go by when Erica and Issac stand up at the opening door. In walks in boyd, with Derek Hale in all his glory,

Boyd is the first out of the two to notice me, “Ms. Y/L/N? holy shit are you ok?” he asks, the second my last names leaves his mouth derek looks up, there he is, the boy who i fell in love with then abandoned.

“don’t, she’s the kanima.” erica says her eyes glowing at me,

“If i was the kanima I don’t think vervain would take me down but here we are” i say, the veins under my eyes showing as well as my fangs,

“Y/N?” Derek says looking at me, “you three get out of here” he says looking at his pack members,

“but-“ is safe starts but is cut off,

“she’s not the Kanima.” he says his red eyes glowing at the three, and with that, they leave,

i try to muster the energy to move, or to even thank him but it’s cut short as a shooting feeling of pain hits me, causing me to scream, worried, derek runs over “how can i help you?” he asks looks at the wound,

“blood. i need blood and fire.” i says throwing my head back in pain, derek runs off and comes back with a blow torch and his claws out,

“her i got fire and you can use my blood” he says starting at his once girlfriend,

“fuck that, i’m not feeding off you, i’ll kill you” i say looking him in the eyes, but everyone knows derek hale is the most stubborn person ever. “it’s going to feel weird but when it gets too much tell me okay?” i say as he nods. with that i close my eyes as my fangs come out and i sink them into his neck, tasting the blood in my mouth sent a sense of euphoria to come over me, and i think him too as he lets out a sudden groan, after a little bit i pull back as i grab the torch and i burn the vervain out of me. the pains too much for me so i pass out, the world going black.

I wake up to the smell of coffee and the sun shining into the room, i’m on a mattress and i’m wearing a large shirt which i assume is derek’s, i groan and sit up only to meet the gorgeous green eyes i once yearned to see. “hey” i mutter weakly,

“where we’re you all this time?” derek says handing me a cup of coffee,

“I was with my uncle, in Mystic Falls, i became a vampire just a little while after i came there, that’s why i never came back i was scared that if you saw me like, we’ll you know, that you wouldn’t love me anymore.” i say looking down at the floor, “i was ashamed derek, and i feel so bad” i say finally meeting his gaze,

“how’d you die.” he asks, sadness in his voice,

“it was either me or my sister who had to die, so i took the step forward and here i am” I say a weak smile on my face. the rest of the day is spent with me and derek catching up, the things we missed, i never thought that seeing him and the conversation we had would lead to him, laying down on the mattress half naked, with me in top of him making out. hey, maybe old habits really do die hard.

I let out a small moan as his hands wrap around me and unclip my bra, “derek” i moan as one of his hands goes to my breast and the other goes into his mouth, i don’t think i’ve ever felt this good holy shit, his mouth moves from my boob to my neck, which leads to him flipping me over and removing my pants and underwear, his hand finds my clit as he plays with it, leaving little figure 8’s making me moan, the other hand goes to his pants and with one hand he pulls them off, he kissed my mouth, then my neck, then my breasts to my stomach then to my mound, my hands go straight to his hair as his skilled tongue draws patterns on my clit to my entrance, the feeling is so divine and i feel as if i’m about to come when he stops,

he draws a whine out of me, “calm down my girl, i want you to come around my cock” he says stroking his member.

i close my eyes as he enters me, and shock of pain and pleasure erupts through my body as he slowly starts moving. his pace gets rougher and rougher as we both start moaning louder and louder, I flip him over as i started riding him, pinning his hands above his head, i bite my lip and let my head fall against his chest as this new position is the one to send me over the edge, i feel my stomach start to tighten as i finally let my release go, clenching around derek

“oh fuck” i hear him slip out as he comes inside of me, completely emptying himself. I drop next to him as he holds me close, “stay with me this time?” he says staring into my eyes,

“of course” i say smiling.

later that day i changed into better clothes, i saw derek standing behind the kitchen island washing the counter, i walked over and kissed him.

as i pretended to drop something, he laughs it iff but it’s stuck in his throat as he feels my hand palm him, i pull down his sweats and start massaging him with a grin, “you dont need to.” he starts but i just smile as i take him in my mouth.

he lets out a moan as his hand goes behind my head pushing me further down his large cock, this man had to be atleast 9 inches, i continue to deepthroat him as i hear the door open, hearing that mixed with the voice of erica and issac only make me keep going i can tell derek is annoyed that they came here, but i know he’s happy that i’m continuing.

they walk into the room and start talking to him, i reach my hand to fondle his balls as he lets out a chocked growl and i feel something shoot down my throat, suddenly i hear issac stop talking, “oh shit derek” he says laughing as he realizes what happened, quickly he leave pulling erica behind him, her still being confused,

i stand up and kiss his lips, with a smirk, me coming back is going to be so fun.

Hey gang! sorry i haven’t posted in a while, i’ve has loads going on omfg. sorry if the words are wrong, not only am i on the phone but english isn’t my first language. i hope you enjoyed and make sure to send requests.

muah muah -Bailey

[rorykeanersactualgf]

request where Benny Weir helps the reader calm down from a nightmare or panic attack

A/N: i quite like this idea, decided to use both of them in a mix bcs why not??? :) again if anything is wrong with the post, please tell me so i can fix it, hope you like it lovelies :)) xx i was also a bit unsure on what the dream would be so i left that to your interpretation, i hope that was okay

CW: mentions of a panic attack, mention of Benny dying (IT DOESNT HAPPEN DW), comfort, cutesy fluff, all the good stuff.

Breathing Difficulties

It had been a weird day. Nothing inherently wrong or out of place, but just...off. It felt like something was going to happen, but nothing did. I thought it was just me being paranoid or disassociating from myself so I decided to tell my wonderful boyfriend, Benny, about it on the walk home.

"Hey Benny?" I said, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"Yes my love?" Benny asked, looking down at me with his heart-warming, signature grin following.

"I've been feeling kind of off today, not too sure why though," and clung to his warm arm and rested my head on his shoulder as we walked.

"Oh, do you feel ill? Need anything to eat or drink?" he asked while simultaneously pulling his bag forward to grab food and/or drinks from it, "Is it a headache? I think I have a spell for that somewhere in this book." He enquired while giving me a bottle of water, an apple and flipping through his spell book, scanning over the pages quickly.

"Woah-kay, thanks for the food and drink, and no offence but I don't want to end up with a set of bat wings yet again when last time I came to you for a stomach-ache." I said with a small chuckle leaving me, making me feel a little bit better than I was before.

"Hey! That was one time! And even you admitted that the wings were kind of cool to have." He said with emphasis lacing every word that left him like he was a child.

"Well it was cool, I will admit to that but it was less cool when none of my clothes fitted me properly, and I felt more nauseous than I was before." I said with my arms crossed over my chest with a small smile itching at the corners of my mouth and fake seriousness in my tone, "I've just been feeling out of it today, almost constantly paranoid that something bad will happen. I might just be overthinking again, I don't know," I said looking at my feet, taking a bite out of the apple he gave me.

"Hm..." he stood still for a moment, placing his spell book in his bag again and thought about what to say," Do you need anything like a hug or a kiss, you know I have plenty of those to share for you, my love?" He said with a big smile gracing his face with a cheeky look in his eye as he walked back over to me and held the sides of my arms gently so I could push him off if I wanted to, but I didn't, I smiled and nodded to him and he leaned down into me so I could wrap my arms around his neck and he could wrap his around my waist while nestling his head into the side of my neck so he could leave a few innocent kisses to my cheek, jaw, and neck.

After a few minutes of holding each other, we let go to continue going home and I had basically forgotten about how I was feeling today...

That was until later that night when I had finally gotten to sleep after messaging Benny and my friends goodnight, I had woken up in a frenzy, beads of uncomfortably cold sweat tricking down my spine like a demon touching the very nerves of my spinal cord. I couldn't catch my breath, nothing was making sense in my brain because it was moving too fast for me and my still sleep addled brain to process. The dream wasn't real, it couldn't have been...Benny was still alive...right?

With trembling hands and wobbly vision from the tears brimming my eyes, I called Benny, not realising that it was around half 2 in the morning and he was most definitely asleep. The first ring..... nothing. The second ring..... nothing again. Panic started to rise high in my chest, and at the third ring Benny answered, his groggy and sleepy voice rung through my ears as a wave of relief flooded through me like a tsunami.

"Hello..?" he said again, unsure of who called him, only feeling his phone vibrate and lifting it to his ear without looking at the number, rubbing his eyes.

Short sniffles and hyperventilative breaths, almost too quiet for his similarly sleep addled brain to pick up on but he just managed to, and a quiet sob and a whisper of "hi" was picked up and Benny woke up a bit more, he looked at his phone to see that it was me that was calling and he shot up in bed, suddenly very awake and a bit dizzy from the sudden movement. "Baby? Are you okay? Talk to me, please."

I tried to speak, to formulate any sort of wording that could be considered anything but gibberish but only shaky breaths and stammers of what I wanted to tell him actually came out. I couldn't breathe, it felt like all the air was sucked out from around me and my lungs but I still felt its chilly hands trail down my spine and exposed arms.

It had taken Benny a moment to realise what was happening but when he realised what was happening, he started to guide me through it, virtually holding my hand while I felt I almost lost grip on reality.

"Okay, listen to me baby, I'm right here, listen to my voice, breathe with me." His soothing voice sounded through the speaker as I followed along with him, breathing in through my nose for 5 seconds, holding it for 7, breathing out my mouth for 8. When my breathing went back to semi-normal, he continued to guide me, even though I heard slight rustling in the other side of the phone.

"You're doing so good baby, okay, now can you tell me 5 things you can see?" I started looking around my room and named a few things I could see.

"Very good, now can you tell me 4 things you can touch?" He continued to praise me throughout the call, listening very intently.

"Uh, my blanket, my phone, my shirt and my pillow."

"Mhm, now can you name me 3 things you can hear?"

"Well now I can hear something being zipped up, a small bang and a pained grunt from you, are you okay? Benny? Benny, please say you're okay..." I continued to trail off and ramble because at the time I thought something bad was happening on his side.

"I'm okay baby, we're focusing on you right now. What are 2 things you can smell?" He said through gritted teeth, in hindsight it was probably from him stubbing his toe in the dark. (baby is okay don't worry haha.)

As he said this, I could hear wind on his side of the phone, and now that I was calmer I could tell he wasn't in danger and that he was probably doing something.

"Um, I don't know, my (fragrance of choice) and some laundry detergent from my bed." I said more as a question than a statement.

As I was saying this, I heard a small incantation be cast and a woosh of air not far from my house and a slight tap on my window and got up to see what it was. Peeking from behind my curtain, I saw Benny with a big and proud smile gracing his face as he gestured if I wanted a hug with a coy smile on his face. I leant into him as he pressed a small, sweet kiss on my lips as he finally asked,

"What's 1 thing you can taste?"

"You," was all that barely left me as I went back up onto my tiptoes to kiss him again... and again... and again... until we both eventually fell asleep in each others arms, now content and with a warm feeling in both of our chests and faces.

A/N: hope you like it at least a bit xx

[topazadine]

Defeating Protracted Writer's Block

Sometimes we get a little stuck on a few words; that's normal. Sometimes we just don't feel like doing anything today and would rather roll around on the ground pretending to be a slug or perhaps a snail. Also normal. Very normal.

However, what do you do if your writer's block has gone on for days, weeks, months, years?? Well, you've got to make a plan to defeat the Block. Here are some suggestions I have developed.

Resist the urge to start something new.

Sit with the discomfort.

Give yourself grace.

Assess your overall life circumstances.

Read outside of your comfort zone.

Try a new hobby or activity.

Start over completely (in a new document).

Cannibalize the piece.

And at the end, I'll share some action points to sum up.

As always, I am not the end-all be-all of writing advice, maybe I'm wrong, maybe you have other suggestions, take what you like and leave the rest. Let's go.

Resist the urge to start something new.

I have discussed in another post why you should not have a million WIPs, with citations as to why having a million WIPs is not conducive to good writing processes, so I will not belabor the point.

Basically, the brain really only focuses on one thing at a time. The more projects you have going, the more scattered your focus is, and the less likely you will be to finish any of them.

I get that you might be bored with your WIP, but if you start a new project, you are exponentially less likely to actually finish it. Maybe you've given up on it totally, and that's fine, but if you did intend to get it done, then stick with it.

Any ideas you have can be set aside for later exploration; write them down and you can be assured that they're not going anywhere.

Sit with the discomfort.

One of the best things I have learned over my life, both in writing and overall, is to be okay being uncomfortable. This mostly comes to me regarding getting feedback on my work, but it also refers to being okay with having writer's block.

There's a skill that comes from knowing when you need to push through a bit of writer's block (which is typically just being unmotivated) and when you need to sit back on your heels and breathe. If you have thrown all your tools at the writer's block, such as turning off your phone or using Stimuwrite, and you're still stuck, then you need to accept that right now is not for writing.

Personally, I always get very anxious when I have writer's block. What if I just give up on the story completely? What if I'm just a bad writer and my inspiration has run out? What if I'll never be able to write anything ever again?

Then I remind myself that I have been writing since I was 7 and I have always come back to it, no matter how bad things have gotten in my life. Experience has shown that even if I take a break, I am almost certainly going to return to it because it's my longest-held and most well-developed skill.

In many cases, just acknowledging that I'm more anxious about the future of my craft rather than this particular story is enough to get me to calm down, and by releasing that mental finger-trap, I start to feel inspired again.

Accept and acknowledge the writer's block. Recognize that it's there. Don't avoid it. Simply let it be there for the moment.

Give yourself grace.

Creatives can be really hard on themselves, especially in a world that is constantly pushing us to develop content as soon as possible. We think that if we don't put out a story every week, no one will care about us anymore and we'll be forgotten. Algorithms have started to infest our brains and change our self-image into a "content creator" instead of a writer, artist, musician, and so on.

But these algos were not created by creative people. They were developed by tech bros who do not understand the process of producing something unique.

Downtime is part of being creative, just like rest days are part of being an athlete. Your brain needs time to decompress, relax, and mull over story ideas. No one would force a marathon runner to set out on another cross-country trek just days after completing their last one because their muscles would explode.

If you don't have a looming deadline, relax. Be gentle to yourself. Let yourself loll around and pretend to be a snail. Freeing your mind of that anxiety can, paradoxically, make you want to work again.

Assess your overall life circumstances.

In addition to my controversial beliefs about not starting a million WIPs, I also do not ascribe to the myth of the martyr artist. I covered that in more detail at the link, but basically, being depressed and stressed out does not actually make you more creative, no matter what you think. Not only does that post explain the science behind it, but it shows you some examples of my own writing done during different stages of bipolar disorder: manic, depressed, and stable.

I don't care what any starving artists say. As someone with a severe mental illness, I can confidently tell you that being unstable is not good for creativity. Your brain is under stress, and it doesn't have the metabolism necessary to produce great work.

But this does not just stand for having a severe mental illness like bipolar disorder; it can also refer to just overall shitty life circumstances, like being stuck in a bad job or having toxic people around you.

Sometimes a dip in productivity can actually be the sign you need that there's something awry elsewhere, something you may not even noticed was wrong. As such, when you're feeling The Block, sit down and think about your life circumstances. Are you happy? Are you financially stable? Are the people around you supportive and kind? Are you getting enough food to eat? Do you have regular healthcare?

Of course, sometimes you will face protracted life circumstances that are inconducive to creative activity, and there is nothing you can do about it. I'm not saying that if you're in a bad place, you should just stop writing - not at all. We'd be missing half the literary canon if that were the case.

But. If you are facing challenges, and you're feeling blocked, and you have the means to take care of those things, by all means do. Take care of your life stuff. The writing can wait. You as a person are much more important than what you produce. You deserve to be happy and healthy and well taken care of.

If you are facing challenges, and feeling blocked, and you can't take care of those things, then please give yourself grace. Be kind to yourself. Take it slow. Do just as much as you can and no more. Ask for grace from others if you need to. Again, you as a person are always, always more important than what you produce.

Read outside of your comfort zone.

In addition to writing The Eirenic Verses, I am a freelance SEO writer who mostly writes stuff about real estate and personal injury. You'd be surprised at how much inspiration I get from the boring stuff that I have to write for work! I'm serious - these obnoxiously dry statistics and such have helped me immensely in my creative fiction.

For example, there's a scene in one of the upcoming books where the MC falls down a cliff. I would not have even considered including that if it weren't for writing personal injury articles about construction accidents. I also got inspiration for the main theme of book 8 in the series, Perseity, after writing about real estate probate. I'm serious!

Sometimes, nonfiction like that can kickstart your creative process more than fiction because you won't just be copying the themes or ideas included in whatever you're currently reading. I recommend that you read fiction for things like dialogue, interesting words to use, and so on, but nonfiction for the actual story ideas. After all, life is frequently stranger than fiction. You never know what you'll find in there.

Try a new hobby or activity.

We, of course, use our brains to write, and our brains are always eager for new inputs. The more that you expose yourself to interesting things, whether that's going on a short daytrip or trying out a new skill, the more neurogenesis that occurs and the more metabolic activity going on up there. And we want neurogenesis and good metabolic activity.

If you're really struggling to write, step away from the computer and do something new. It could be anything, but at the bare minimum, it must make you feel like an idiot who does not know what they are doing. It must make you have to try new movements, or apply old knowledge in new ways, or go to somewhere you've never been before and don't know the layout of. This shakes you out of your old patterns of behavior and forces you to shift your understandings of how things work, which can give you new perspectives on your work.

Start over completely (in a new document).

I will only touch on this briefly because I don't use it, but I know other people have had success with it. Basically, you begin all the way over again, writing it as you would have from the beginning. Not copying and pasting, but typing it all over again.

Sometimes (or so I have been told), this helps you recognize where things are going wrong and workshop solutions as you go along. Many also use this for editing when they are done, as it helps you catch typos you wouldn't have noticed otherwise.

Cannibalize the piece.

If you are really stuck, fed-up, angry, and don't think you can bear to go on, then don't! Unless you've already promised this work to someone or you're doing this for pay, there's no rule that you have to finish everything you start.

But no writing is ever wasted. There is likely the seeds of something good in there that you can recycle. It may be really good phrases, ideas, characters, locations, dialogue, whatever. But there is something good in every single piece, no matter how down you are feeling about it right now.

I've given up on a ton of pieces, but I often find echoes of them in later works, even if I never copy-pasted anything. That's because it was still practice - I was still learning and growing as a writer. The only way to improve is to keep going forward, but that does not mean you have to beat a dead horse. Chop it up and feed it to your next piece so you have the strength to continue.

Action points for beating protracted writer's block

Don't start a new WIP unless you have completely given up on this one. If you get story ideas for something else, write them down but don't start them. Allow yourself to have writer's block: unless you have a deadline, the writing will still be there. Recognize that much of writer's block is about anxiety about your skills rather than a true creative stop. Remove the "content creator" curse that tells you that you must be working 24/7. Consider downtime to be part of the creative process, just like athletes need to rest. Remind yourself of how many other times you have have writer's block and the fact that you were able to get over it that time too. Assess your overall life circumstances and consider whether your writer's block is a symptom of something bigger. Prioritize self-care rather than attempting to be a martyr for your art. Read something you wouldn't usually in order to broaden your horizons. Consider reading nonfiction for story ideas and fiction for specific craft inspiration. Do a new hobby, especially one that is completely out of your comfort zone. Rewrite the entire piece in a new document. Take pieces from the old work and start something new if you have fully declared it dead.

If you enjoyed this, maybe you'll consider purchasing my gay fantasy romance, 9 Years Yearning. This coming-of-age story features two young soldiers in a world lightly inspired by the Mongolian steppes, infused with poetry magic and literary mythology.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Starlight, Chapter Two:

pairing: fae!ezra prospect x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: Explicit (18+ only, minors dni, some pretty heavy stuff here (at least for me) just as a warning!, talks of violence/allusions to DV, a brief non-consensual but technically consensual (??) sex scene between Kaius and Marigold, general shit storm of angst piled onto our girl (if you can’t tell i’m in actual pain writing her pain so pls be gentle with me), the romance with ezra is coming i promise!!

wc: 6.2k

series masterlist

I awoke to the sound of a few familiar knocks against the main door of my suite, stone rolling against stone as it opened. My eyes batted open as I lay upstairs in bed pulling the blanket up to cover half my face as a set of footsteps ascended the staircase up to the second floor. 

“Princess,” Ezra called, his voice already a strangely soothing balm to my near-constant anxiety. It felt naive and reckless to place this much trust in a man I’d only just met, but I couldn’t find a reason not to. He’d been kind, he’d been helpful, and as far as I could see, he seemed to be the only option for an ally—unless I counted my future husband. And I didn’t. “Miss Drusilla is here to ready you for the ball.”

Wedding, you mean? I murmured to myself. 

I tossed my blanket back and slowly climbed out of bed with a stretch. Whatever magic Ezra had worked on me to get me tired forced me into the deepest and most restful sleep of my life. Another thing to like him for. I yawned as my feet padded over the giant blue rug beneath my bed and then cold stone floor before making it to the dark, wooden double doors separating me from my visitors. 

Opening the door, I let my eyes lock with Ezra’s--just long enough to ignite a frenzy of sickly tender feelings in my chest--before turning to Drusilla. I gave her an instinctive once over, happy with what I saw. Some color had returned to her naturally pale skin, her purple eyes already a little brighter than earlier. She’d obviously had a bath, her waist-length white hair now swept to the side in a clean braid. 

“Hello, Drusilla,” I said, giving her a sincere smile before turning to Ezra. Something more familiar and affectionate warped my smile into a smirk. “Hello, Your Grace.”

“You look well rested,” he said, his eyes subtly combing me over. 

“Thanks to you,” I smiled. Ezra seemed to blush, his eyes falling to the floor for a split second before he was turning to the teenager beside him. 

“I thought I’d come formally introduce the two of you,” he said, his eyes meeting mine only in short glances. “The ceremony is in two hours, followed by a feast, and then, finally, the ball.”

I felt sick. 

“I’ll be returning shortly with the Royal Seamstress to deliver your gown,” he continued, his voice a bit warmer than when he’d started speaking. He must have felt my apprehension. “Until then, I’ll leave the two of you to get acquainted.”

As he turned to leave, I found my lips parting to call for him to stay. 

“Thank you,” I said instead. “For everything.” 

Ezra gave me a tender, if not weary, smile and nod before making his way down the staircase. Left with Drusilla, the two of us fell into an awkward silence for a beat before I willed myself to forget about my impending doom and speak. “It’s lovely to properly meet you.”

She hurried into a bow, her eyes still struggling to meet mine. 

“Please, I don’t have many rules for my handmaids, but I do ask this one thing of you,” I started, my tone gentle as she finally dared to look me in the eye for longer than a second. “Please don’t bow or bother with titles. Back home, our handmaidens were like family, like sisters. We can be like sisters, too, if you’d like.”

“I’ve…always fancied the idea of having a sister,” she said, letting the smallest of smiles grace her face. “But what shall I call you?”

I smiled softly, thinking back to the days spent under the warm sun with my mother and sisters. At the name they gave me. “Call me Mari. It’s what my sisters always called me.”

Mari, it is.“ She smiled, soft and sweet, reminding me of my own girlhood that seemed so far gone and still so near. 

“Tell me everything about yourself,” I demanded as I led her into my dressing room. I took a seat at the vanity, fixing my eyes on her through the mirror as she stood behind me, mindlessly finger-combing my curls. 

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she admitted. 

“Well…are you an only child?” I asked, desperate to keep the conversation away from myself and the festivities she was readying my for. 

“I had a little brother, Ash,” she said, reaching over my shoulder to grab a sack of pins. “He passed from a fever not too long ago.”

I frowned, letting my gaze fall to my lap as I considered the idea of losing any of my sisters—even the ever-challenging Octavia who was likely grinning with glee over my current situation—after having lost my mother. I wasn’t sure I’d ever smile again, which made every single smile Drusilla gave me all the more precious. 

“I’m very sorry,” I managed. “My mother passed earlier this year. I know how hard it is to lose someone.”

“He would have liked it here in the castle,” she mused, her eyes and hands busy pinning my hair up. “He loved everything to do with knights and armor and danger. Too young to know the truth of it all.”

There was a tragic maturity about Drusilla, as if she was forced into adulthood before she was even a teenager. 

“And you? What interests you?” I asked, determined to find a spark of light inside of her so that I could help it turn into a star as bright as the ones in the sky. 

“It will sound odd,” she said, as bashful as a child.

“Go on,” I urged. 

“I like to study the stars--or at least, one day I would like to. For now, I just observe.”

“There are no books--”

“The library in town burned two years ago,” she said, scowling as if she knew the culprit. “Even then, it was difficult to be let in looking…well, looking like trash.”

“How long have you been on your own?” Her eyes lifted to meet mine, a strange sort of pride glowing on her face. 

“Eight years,” she said. “Seven with Ash.”

“That’s a feat I’m not sure most of the guards in the castle could accomplish,” I smiled. “I wish I could have met Ash, given him a home here with you.”

“He would’ve liked that,” she smiled back, her eyes dropping back to focus on her braiding. “I cannot tell you what your kindness means to me. The royals are usually so…cold.” 

“Did you know the last King? Or Queen?”

“Only from afar, though I do remember seeing the Queen once as a little girl,” she said, placing the final pin in my hair. “I can’t remember her face, but I remember sadness in her eyes. I suppose I can’t blame her. To rule here…it’s an awful fate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat at the realization that I was to share that exact fate. Drusilla realized, too, and quickly opened her mouth to apologize but was cut off by the sound of a metal hand knocking on the door. 

“Enter,” I called, my voice fragile and on the verge of cracking. Ezra’s eyes were locked on mine even before the door was opened fully. 

“I’ve…” He trailed off, noticing how rigid my posture was, how watery my eyes were. “Is everything--”

“You’ve brought my gown?” I managed, forcing my voice into one of feigned strength and dignity. I wasn’t sure if it was possible to maintain the latter anymore. 

“Yes,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he turned to the doorway, allowing an old, but regal woman into the room. “Lady Rowena, the Royal Seamstress.”

The Seamstress looked every bit like Kaius, her raven black hair and peircing blue eyes hardly affected by her age. Only her skin gave it away, fine lines and wrinkles all over her face and neck, but she still looked capable of commanding a room. A lifetime ago, she must have been the apple of every evil Lord’s eye.

“Hello,” was all I could manage as her severe eyes studied me. I stood at attention, out of sheer intimidation. 

“You’ve lost weight on the journey,” she commented, handing the garment bag previously draped over her arm to Ezra before she came stalking over, walking circles around me. “Good. Your waist is impossibly small. And those hips…those are child-bearing hips.”

I cringed, fighting hard to keep my face neutral as she faced me head on, scanning every feature from my forehead to my chest. 

“Pity about the small chest,” she sighed. “Apart from that--perfection.”

“The gown,” Ezra reminded, walking the garment bag over to drape across the back of the chaise near the hearth. Though his motives remained a mystery, as well as his mind, she could tell that he was no fonder of the Seamstress than I was. I couldn’t help letting myself fall a little more into my fondness of him.

“Yes, yes,” she grumbled, her heels clicking against stone as she walked over to the garment bag and opened it, unveiling a terribly boring black gown that looked the antithesis of what I imagined my wedding gown would be. “Made from the finest silk and lace, imported directly from Florere.”

I stared at the gown for a moment, my face blank from apathy and shock. This shouldn’t be my gown. This shouldn’t be my wedding. My mother should be here. My sisters should have stopped my father--

“Princess?” Ezra spoke, bringing me back to the present. “What do you think?

Take it easy on her, his voice rang in my head, causing me to gasp. She’s even worse when insulted.

“It…it is lovely—“

“But?” Lady Rowena scowled, her diamond-blue eyes piercing into mine. 

“It’s only—and I don’t mean any offense—“

“On with it, Princess,” the seamstress sighed, rolling her eyes. 

“It looks perfect for a bride of Nox, but I am not a bride of Nox. At least, not fully,” I managed. “I would like for that to be represented by my gown.”

“What changes exactly?” Rowena asked through a tight jaw, her patience clearly growing thin. But I had already ventured this far. No sense in backing down now. 

“I would like a golden gown,” I said, trying to force confidence into my tone. “And for the veil, I’d like there to be an embroidered sun, as well as stars. After all, this is a union between kingdoms, is it not?”

Lady Rowena eyed me for a moment before seemingly deciding that she approved of my request. Or perhaps she just approved of my courage in making a request to begin with. 

“I will see what I can do,” she said, her voice the slightest bit softer than before. 

“Thank you,” I said, wishing I sounded just a bit more like her. More like a grown woman who knew her power and owned it. Instead, I could only hear a little girl, desperate for approval. 

Lady Rowena gathered the plain black gown and matching veil, slinging the silky material over her arm before giving me a bow and making her exit from my chamber. 

Drusilla and I let out a breath of relief at the same time, forcing us to giggle while Ezra lingered by the door.

“She reminds me of the headmistress at the orphanage,” she said, walking with me back to the vanity. I locked eyes with Ezra through the mirror, finding a soft half-smile on his face as he watched us. As if the sight of me laughing--of both of us laughing--brought him peace. I looked away before it got too much to bear. Ezra made his exit a second later.

“Is that a good thing?” I asked with a laugh, finding it easy to do so in her presence. 

“Not in the slightest,” she smirked. 

We laughed again, the air light with the simple joy of being girls together—one twenty-five and one sixteen, neither quite ready to face the reality of the world we lived in. 

“I am very thankful I met you, Drusilla,” I mused, looking at her through the mirror. 

My entire life I dreamed of what it would be like to have a younger sister, to care for them the way my sisters cared for me. In Drusilla, I saw that dream start to take form. 

“You’re too kind, Mari,” she said, fighting back a toothy smile. “I worry this kingdom will steal that from you.”

I swallowed, my eyes falling to my lap. 

“I worry about that, too.”

I took a moment alone after getting dressed to look at myself in the mirror. Dressed up in black, save the changes I’d requested earlier, I looked like I was in mourning. Though in a way, I was. The life I thought I’d live, the man I hoped to meet, the love my household would share--all of it, dead and gone. 

But I could not grieve, at least not tonight. 

So, I gathered the heft of my skirt and lifted it as I made my way to the hall where Drusilla waited to bid me a goodnight before Ezra led me down to the Main Hall where my husband and our guests awaited my grand entrance. 

“Good luck,” she whispered, reaching to tuck a stray curl around my face back to where it belonged. 

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I managed, giving her a smile that I hoped would convey my gratitude for her company and kind words. I didn’t linger long out of fear that I’d gather the courage to jump from a window, my heels clicking against the stone floor as I made my way to Ezra who stood with his good arm held out to me. 

“Shall we?” he purred, and everything about that voice hit me in the chest. This. This is what I should feel for my husband, this is what I hoped as a little girl to feel for him. Soft, sweet, safe feelings, not…fear. 

“Off to the gallows I go,” I chided, earning a stern glare as we walked down the hall to the main stairs. “If I can’t joke with you, who can I joke with?”

Ezra warmed at my words. “As long as you learn to whisper. Even if I wasn’t Fae, I could hear you halls away.”

“No one knows who I am,” I rolled my eyes. “Besides, I shouldn’t have to censor myself in my own home.”

“It’ll always be his home,” Ezra warned, his eyes scanning the staircase leading to the Main Hall. 

So many guests. So many eyes fixed on me the moment I took the first step. My grip on Ezra’s arm tightened. 

I can tell that half of the men here feel very…passionate about you, he purred in my mind. And the women want to kill you.

Is that a good thing? I replied.

“It’s a dangerous thing,” he murmured in my ear, his voice sending a jolt of arousal down to the pit of my stomach. “Smile. Your husband’s watching.”

I fixed my eyes upon a handsome man in blue and black, his bright eyes glistening in the candlelight as he stood in front of an Archbishop clad in dreary gray. So handsome, and yet my gut lurched at the sight of him, my skin crawling with the urge to get away. 

“Introducing the new Queen of Nox, Princess Marigold of Solis,” a man bellowed as I made the final step into the room, Ezra’s presence an anchor. 

It’ll be alright, Princess, he whispered in my head. I swear.

I hope you don’t take oaths lightly, I chided, earning a small curl of his lips as he walked me down the aisle, unfamiliar faces gawking at every step I took. Can you do the thing where you save me from throwing up all over the floor now?

He let out a breath of a laugh so soft I could have imagined it and let his eyes glow that beautiful liquid gold, the warmth of it pouring over me like a blanket. I squeezed his arm in thanks and took a deep breath as I arrived at the altar, my King grinning at me like I was a jewel. 

“Thank you, my Hand. I’ll take my wife from you now,” he purred, taking my arm from Ezra’s. I cringed at the coldness of his hand against my bare skin, at the way he gripped my arm hard enough to ache. “You’re a vision in black.”

I loathe black, I wanted to shout.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” I bowed, letting him kiss my gloved hand. 

“Shall we, then?” He nudged his chin towards the Archbishop, the old man scowling at me as I met his gray eyes. Giving a weary nod to my groom, I followed him up the small set of stairs leading to the dais with my hand held firmly in his. 

“Your Majesty,” the archbishop bowed to my groom and him alone, his eyes never once meeting mine as he began to recite the words passed down from century to century, joining man and wife together under their god’s divine grace. A load of antiquated bullshit that meant nothing to me and my family, who pray to the Goddesses who value true love rather than all of this marrying for power. 

It made me hate my father all the more. 

When the archbishop was finished, Kaius--my King, my husband--took my face in his hands and stared at me, a wicked grin that promised we’d have fun together. More likely, that he’d have fun with me. I tried not to shudder as he pulled me in and kissed me, his lips soft and skilled and yet I felt nothing but shame. It felt wrong, like my body and soul agreed that I was not supposed to be here. When he pulled away, I forced a smile onto my face, but there was no hiding the tears in my eyes. 

“Look at that,” he called out into the dead silent hall, his court and guests looking on with a mixture of awe and pity. “My bride is shedding tears of happiness.”

I wiped the rolling tear off my cheek and lowered my eyes to the floor. I hated the crowd’s staring, hated that my husband was already taking my pain and turning it into something that benefited him. 

Eyes up. Ezra’s voice sounded again, only for my mind to hear. Don’t let them see you as a lamb. That voice lowered to a whisper. You’re a golden lion.

I don’t feel like a fucking lion, I griped back, lifting my eyes just to glare at him as he stood by the dais. 

“Come, bride,” Kaius looked at me, his eyes sweeping over every feature, that handsome yet vile smirk spreading wider as I fixed a winning smile onto my face. “You are a stunning creature. Dull, perhaps, but…stunning, nevertheless.”

“You are so…generous with your compliments, Your Majesty,” I managed, corralling my restraint and those royal manners I was taught as a girl. Kaius’s responding wink was enough to let me know he saw right through my pretty smiles, but that he didn’t give a shit so long as I fulfilled my half of the bargain. An heir. 

“Let us celebrate,” Kaius called out into the pin-drop silent hall as dinner commenced, his eyes dark as they remained on me as they had been all night. “To my beautiful bride and the true love we’ll share.”

“To true love!” the room called back, raising their goblets. I could only manage a murmur of agreement, by body outright refusing to play the role I’d been given. My eyes hadn’t left my plate besides to look to my right at Kaius seated at the head of the table, and directly ahead of me at Ezra who watched me just as carefully as the rest of the room. Only his attention felt welcome--reminded me of my humanity, my humor, my true self.

“My dear,” Kaius purred, lazy and bored and privileged. “Have you met my uncle?” He carelessy gestured at the man sat on the other side of me. I hadn’t noticed him, hadn’t met him, nor did I want to given his predatory gaze as my eyes met his. 

“Lord Oziel of the Frostlands,” the old, musty smelling man leaned in and kissed my gloved hand. His face was severe, nothing at all like Kaius’s unnerving beauty. With his thick, raven black eyebrows, his pale and wrinkled jowls, and the odor of booze and bad breath permeating with every word, I found it a feat just to keep what little I had in my stomach down. “That beauty sitting across from you is my wife, Lady Emita.”

My eyes willingly turned from Lord Oziel to his shockingly young and gorgeous wife, Emita. Her skin was as dark as the night sky, her eyes a startling amber that looked like wildfire. Her perfectly symmetrical almond eyes locked with mine, and I offered a smile, hoping to win a friend at court who might understand my current predicament. But Lady Emita offered me no smile, no ounce of warmth or friendliness in her eyes. 

“You’re from Solis?” she asked, lifting her glass to her lips. “You look like it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered despite my attempt at confidence. 

“I didn’t mean that to be a compliment,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she stared down into the pool or dark red filling her cup. Out of instinct or embarrassment, my eyes flickered to Ezra’s, finding him with a clenched jaw, his fork stabbing at his plate a touch too aggressively for a royal. 

“Emi,” Lord Oziel warned, sounding more like her grandfather than anything. 

“Pardon me, Your Grace,” she waved a hand I supposed was meant to be an attempt at an apology. “Where I’m from, we don’t waste time with flattery.”

“Where is that?” I asked, my voice edged with frustration and embarrassment and disgust. 

“Heims,” she replied. “Your sister…what is her name again, husband?”

“Princess Wilhemina,” I cut in, my heart pounding at the mention of my eldest sister, the future Queen of Heims. 

“Yes, yes,” Lady Emita droned. “She is a rare jewel, managing to fit in so well in Heims. It isn’t as…soft as your Kingdom.”

“She is the strongest woman I know,” I managed, my heart calming now that I knew no insults would be hurled at my sister. “But I know many strong women in Solis. In fact, I can’t say that I’ve ever met a land who embraces women in power so much.”

“That didn’t stop your father from sending you off like cattle to the first buyer,” she challenged, her lips curling on one side the same way Kaius’s did when he was thoroughly pleased with the look on my face. That look that screamed naivety. 

“You’ve had enough to drink,” Ezra cut in, plucking the goblet from Lady Emita’s grasp without care for the seething look she shot him. “And Lady or not, you’re speaking to your Queen. Mind yourself.”

“My good Hand,” Kaius grinned. “Always doing the work I don’t want to do. Corralling these socialites is no easy task, wife.”

Wife? Property. 

“Queen or not--” 

Lord Oziel’s kick to her shin under the table was so hard it rattled our plates, my face going pale at the act of aggression, at the way no one in the room paid it any mind. At least Ezra had the decency to let his magic wash away her pain. 

She’ll be fine, he assured, his voice a pleasant echo in my mind, clearing away most of the haunting thoughts lingering in my head. 

She might have a mouth, but it’s awful that Kaius allows him to treat her like that, I replied, lowering my eyes to my plate. Any idea why she hates me? 

The North has always envied the South, he said. They think you’re untried, soft, naive. 

And you?

For a moment, when I first met you, he replied while shoveling food into his mouth as ungracefully as I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure why that made me like him more. But that judgment has long been wiped away. 

I haven’t managed to win over my husband so easily, I chided, managing a bite of my own food. The first bite I’d eaten since…I couldn’t remember. Time felt so strange here, as if it was frozen and sped up all at once. 

He looks happy, he offered. That’s as much as you can expect from him.

I expected him to be in love with me, I snapped, hating that in all my loathing and disgust, I still yearned for my husband’s approval. 

Kaius might not be in love with you, but he is in love with the fact that every single man in this room can’t take their eyes off of you, he replied, stabbing another piece of steak with his fork. Goddess above, I couldn’t stop watching him eat like an animal. Couldn’t stop imagining what else he’d do like one. 

All but you, I irresponsibly purred back, eyes fixed on him from across the table. Ezra’s eyes finally, albeit slowly, lifted to meet mine, dark brown meeting amber as I stared back. His stare flickered to my lips before lifting again, a subtle, hardly there smirk growing on his face. 

Do you like having my eyes on you, Princess? His voice was like a drug at this point, but when he lowered it like that…I worried I might be beyond the point of help when it came to my addiction to it. 

Do you want me to like it? I asked, twisting my mouth to control my growing smile as I let my eyes fall to my plate, my fork batting a few peas back and forth.

I want you to yearn for it, he managed, his voice strained with something akin to desperation. 

I didn’t have time to tell him I already did before my husband dropped his fork to his empty plate and announced dinner was over, not caring if the rest of the room hadn’t finished their meals, and that the ball would soon commence. 

“My bride, would you care to join me on the veranda?” Though I did not want to do anything of the sort, as if I had a choice, at least he went through the motions of asking. 

Say no, Ezra warned, not at all like a General or the King’s Hand, but as a friend. 

I said nothing in response, not willing to take the chance on what would happen if I denied my King anything, especially in front of his court, and accepted Kaius’s hand. 

Marigold, Ezra called again, his voice only mine to hear. I felt guilty ignoring him, but if Lady Emita showed me anything, it was that these people did not care what happened to me. Kaius could do whatever he wanted, and they’d turn a blind eye. So, I followed my husband toward the veranda, allowing the ice cold to whip across my exposed skin. 

Kaius was quick to pull me off into the shadows, where no one could see us. I couldn’t even see him as he leaned in to kiss me, a real kiss this time compared to the one we shared at the altar. His teeth bit at my lip and tongue as I struggled to keep up, struggled to want him. 

“Shall we consummate our marriage here, in front of our guests?” he rasped into my ear, his hands wandering greedily. “Do you want them to hear us? Hear my name coming from your lips?”

I certainly did not. 

“Bedroom,” I managed, breathless and dizzy and full of shame. “I want to go to your bedroom.”

Kaius had the audacity to look disappointed, but quickly grunted his agreement and tugged me back inside the warmth of the main hall. All eyes remained on us as he practically yanked me into the King’s corridor, a long, dark hall that connected his private wing to the rest of the castle. 

“Don’t get used to calling the shots,” he warned, stalking down the hall in front of me. “I’m not usually so…submissive.”

As if I needed reminding of his affinity for dominance. 

Though I’d never been touched before, at least not to this extent, I knew enough from my older sisters to know that I should be feeling at least a morsel of pleasure, but at best, sex seemed to feel more uncomfortable and foreign than anything else. It felt like a piston moving inside of me every time his hips snapped into mine. Not excruciatingly painful, but not pleasurable in the slightest. 

But I didn’t let it show out of fear of bruising the King’s ego. 

“Look at you,” he panted, reaching his large hand down to cradle my face as he drove into me, my overdramatic moans no doubt spurring him on. “So desperate for it.”

I held back my scoff. The only thing I was desperate for was for this to end. For me to fall pregnant with a healthy heir on the first try so I never had to do this again. 

I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that men kill for this, start wars over this, give up every shred of moral decency to do this very act. It must feel dramatically different for them, otherwise, I’d think they were all severe masochists.

“Open your eyes,” he snarled, slipping his hand from my cheek to my throat. My eyes flashed wide with fear as he squeezed, not enough to hurt me, but enough to show me just how easily he could. “That’s better.”

Goddess, how much longer would this go on?

As if reading my mind, Kaius bottomed out in me with a groan loud enough to hurt my ears, his body falling forward to cover mine. I waited there, absolutely still beneath him as he caught his breath, waiting for him to roll over onto his side so that we could go to sleep and, hopefully, never have to do that again. 

“Virgins are always so much better,” he mused as he finally rolled over, making my skin crawl. I turned onto my side, studying him in all his post-orgasmic bliss and wondered how such an attractive man could be so nauseating. “Would you like me to…call someone?”

I laced my brows together. “For…”

“To escort you back to your chambers,” he replied, as if it was obvious. “You didn’t think you’d be sleeping in my private quarters, did you?”

“I assumed--”

“Try not to do that,” he grunted, climbing out of bed and throwing his midnight blue, velvet robe on before pouring himself a drink. 

I looked over at the ornate candle holder on the bedside table and considered throwing it across the room at him, but managed to refrain. 

“Are you going to answer me?” he snapped, glaring at me from across the room. “Escort or no?”

“Oh,” I managed. I didn’t want some guard walking me back to my chambers in uncomfortable silence while I…processed the night. “I’ll manage on my own.”

“Good,” he nodded, tilting his chin towards the door. “You can go, then.”

Though I yearned to move quickly, my body wasn’t so ready for the hustle. I slowly climbed out of bed and ignored the sticky mess between my thighs as I slipped on my wedding gown that suddenly felt a lot heavier than before in more ways than one. Without so much as a goodbye, Kaius watched me leave from over the lip of his crystal glass, his eyes almost predatory. I knew instantly that I’d played my part too well. 

He’d come back for more, heir or not. 

I only allowed myself to breathe once the stone door of his chambers had closed, the cool air of the night drowning out the smell of his fine cologne still burning my nostrils. The guards posted along the halls of the King’s quarters didn’t look me in the eyes as I passed them, but I could still feel their desire. It made me feel sick in a way I never had before, knowing that if given a chance, each and every one of them would take it. Even if I had just been with someone else. Even with the tears streaming down my face. 

I shattered completely the minute I turned down the hall and found I was finally alone. It was all I could do not to curl up in a ball in the middle of this cold, dark corridor and weep. 

I wanted my mother. I wanted to fall into her arms and sob. I wanted to hear her voice and know that good things still existed in this world. But I was alone, and I’d always be. 

As I descended the staircase to the second floor, I could hear the festivities still raging on in the grand hall below me. The world still turned, no matter how frozen in time it was for me. 

“Your Highness?” 

My head whipped in the direction of a familiar voice. Ezra stood in the shadows of a corridor near the landing at the bottom of the grand staircase, but he wasn’t alone. Still pressed against the wall stood a breathless, flushed Lady of the Frostlands. Lady Emita. 

I felt sick again, for an entirely new reason. I hated her out of sheer jealousy, my eyes sharp as I ignored Ezra’s shocked stare. And then I hated myself for being so childish, so selfish. She was just a young woman, my age or even younger, trying to distract herself from her own brutal reality with a more age appropriate, more handsome, and charming man. 

I just wished it hadn’t been Ezra. 

“I…” I started to speak but couldn’t get the words out. My hand gestured up the staircase, towards where the King remained, basking in the afterglow of his pleasure while I…

Ezra’s face turned from shock to guilt before setting on rage, darkness so black it was blue pooling in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” he managed through gritted teeth, staying frozen just a foot away from his blushing mistress. 

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, my voice strained as my throat tightened. He didn’t seem to believe me, but I couldn’t blame him given the tears still streaming down my face. 

“Let me walk you to your chamber,” he offered, tipping his chin towards the corridor. Lady Emita clicked her tongue at him, clearly growing impatient, but he didn’t look her way. His dark eyes remained locked on mine. “With so many guests still on the grounds—“

“No,” I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat as I walked down to the landing with my chin held high, my jealousy so rampant I wondered if my amber eyes had turned a shade of green. 

Standing closer to him, I could smell the wine on his breath, could see the remnants of lust in his eyes. I fought the urge to vomit at the thought of what I would have seen if I had stumbled upon the two of them just a few minutes later. 

“Besides,” I said, my tone icy, my eyes still sharp. “It seems as though you’re currently busy.”

“It’s my duty to ensure your safety,” he countered, still not so much as glancing at his mistress. “I will never be too busy to tend to you, Your Highness.”

“I don’t need tending to,” I gritted out. Unlike Ezra, I couldn’t help but to constantly glance at Lady Emita. And unlike Ezra, I could see just how unwilling she was to share him. 

“Princess,” he cooed, his eyes finally warming as he took one step away from Lady Emita and one step closer to me. 

“I am not a princess. I am your queen,” I said, my voice on the verge of cracking. “That will be all for tonight.”

Though his lips parted to speak, I didn’t wait to hear what came out of them. I turned and let the sound of my heels drown out their lovers quarrel as Lady Emita finally spoke, cursing him with words so colorful I knew they could have only come from her crass husband. 

I didn’t let myself cry until I was shut inside the confines of my suite, too fearful that Ezra had stubbornly followed me to ensure my safety. Too sick to sleep and too tired to think, I made myself comfortable in front of the fire in the sitting room, one of my mother’s favorite books in my hands until the world around me looked less cold and more like home.

[vampsquerade]

Can I just have soft general relationship fluff with my cutie patootie Vigil? 🥺🥺

yis of course!! we gotta give our sweet man Vigil some good and tender loving 🥹 thank you so much for your request elias!! hope you’re doing well 🩵💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vigil x GN!Reader: Restoring a Statue

Trigger warnings: none, all fluff!

For weeks, Chul would wait patiently just to get back home to you. He understands how important his work is, yet he can’t begin to believe how much more he finds your relationship with him to be just as important. He didn’t care how long it would take just to see you again, as long as it happened, he would be happy with his life. Chul spent so much of his life with the face of a stone; an unchanging statue, haunted by the blood that surrounded it. Personally he felt he still couldn’t speak of his emotions, let alone acknowledge that they existed after all he’s been through. But the moment he joined Team Rainbow in 2017 and met you, that stone-cold face slowly changed.

Only in private however, as it was the only time Chul knew nobody else could see what had changed him. He had only ever relied on Harry before when it came to a peek into his psyche, and even then he was shocked to learn of so many things he hadn’t realized he suppressed. You would do the same for Chul; letting him know that he doesn’t have to stay that way forever. It’s clearly not healthy, and you just want to help him feel like he can live a life for himself. So the second he came back through the door of your shared apartment, Chul was greeted by the sight of you slumped on his couch. It seemed like you had a rough day at work, and was getting some rest in as you waited for him.

Chul, smiling softly to himself, closes and locks his apartment door behind him before setting down his bag on the floor. He takes his boots off before stepping onto the carpeting he’s come to love so much. Chul’s ballistic mask is next as he places it down on the coffee table, and doesn’t even bother to worry about the black eye paint that smears against his face once he moves himself into your arms. “Wake up…I’m home…” Chul whispers softly against your lips once he gets closer to your face. A soft and gentle peck is pressed against your own lips, stirring you awake. Opening your eyes, a soft smile graces your face as Chul rests right in your arms. “Chul…when did you get home, hm…?” The question is genuine, filled with a domesticity the operator was still trying to get used to.

“I’d say about a good two minutes ago…you’ve been taking care of yourself, right?” Chul asks in a hushed tone, giving you an actual kiss this time around. Laughing softly, you speak in between each kiss, gently massaging the nape of his neck. “I’ve been taking good care of myself…what about you?” You ask. Your voice, while as sleepy as it sounds, is sweet like honey. It envelops all of his thoughts with a silk sheet, and makes him fall in love with you more than he already was. Chul couldn’t help but give a content sigh, pulling away from you and resting his head against your shoulder a bit. “I did get banged up pretty bad out there, but I promise you that I was taking good care of myself,” he says in a gentle tone.

You smile sweetly at him, yawning and rubbing away the sleep and fatigue you felt. “Good…you hungry? I can make you something,” you offer, sitting up a bit. “No, not right now…can we go to our room? I’ve…missed you so much—I just want to hold you in my arms…” Chul asks softly. The slight desperation for comfort and love from his beloved is clear in his voice, and you can’t even begin to think how it makes you fall for your loving partner even more. The way Chul just looks asking you is desperate as well, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Alright then—let’s get to our room. It is a little late already…some cuddles sound great right about now,” you agree, laughing softly when you see the sparkle in his eyes.

Much to your surprise, you make a startled squeal once Chul lifts you up into his arms in a bridal carry. He then carries you to your shared room safely, laying you down onto the plush mattress once he’s right at the edge of it. Chul goes and turns off all the lights in your apartment, and once he flips the switch, his eyes are filled with so much love as he looks at you. The moonlight casted its silver veil upon your form, making you look like something that was far out of reach; you were a valuable treasure to him. An ethereal glow seemed to radiate from you, and it only beckoned Chul closer to you. He approached you like a curious tiger, before eventually crawling into bed next to you.

His arms wrapped around you securely and safely, and his love enveloped you with so much warmth that it could’ve kept you warm for an entire winter. Chul’s face is inches from yours, his brown eyes staring into you affectionately. You look back at him with that same gaze, a smile gracing your lips once more. He could just stay here and stare at you for hours, and would do so for all time just so he can lose himself in the glimmer in your eyes. “You have no idea just how much I love you, 자기야…you’re much sweeter to me than anything else is in this world, and I’m so glad you’re mine…” Chul whispers softly against your lips. His breath is gentle and soft, as he then captures your sweet lips in his.

Chul’s got a good sense of control over him, so you don’t have to feel afraid of him going too far or anything, so you’re not all too worried once you start to reciprocate the kiss. It remains soft and gentle, as his hands gently stroke the back of your head and your lower back. Your own hands have come up to gently hold the sides of his face, thumbs carefully caressing his cheekbones. Eventually Chul pulls away, moving the hand that was stroking the back of your head to caress his thumb against your lips. “You’re obsessed with my lips, you know that? It’s so cute…” you whisper softly to him. He smiles when he can practically feel your voice as you whisper. “Can you blame me? I can’t help myself…”

Chul then pulls you closer to him, and you nuzzle yourself into the crook of his neck. You don’t care if he tries to push you away because he’s dirty or anything still due to just having come home, only making you want to be closer to him. You inhale his scent, the musk you had missed so much, deeply before sighing contentedly. It flusters Chul up a lot, his body becoming warm as a result; his heart races in his chest and thunders in his ears loudly. The way you make him feel was something he didn’t want from anyone else in the entire world. “Not really…just wanted to tell you that it’s cute. In fact, I’d like it a lot more if you were even more obsessed with them—my lips are always ready for your kisses.” you say.

The way you speak is so nonchalant sometimes, and that’s what keeps Chul close to you. “Good, because now I will. I promise you that,” he says, chuckling softly, “now then, how about you tell me what I’ve missed since I was gone.” You sigh in slight agitation, “God I wish I was doing cool stuff like you when you’re in the field—I spend almost all of my days doing paperwork and I hope you know just how tiring and stupid it is. Do you have any idea how many reports I’ve had to look over and correct so they corresponded? Way too much!” you explain. The river of words flows from you with so much irritation it makes Chul chuckle softly. “Then how about I make up for all that stress you had to deal with when I was gone—sound good?” he asks you softly.

You plant a gentle kiss to Chul’s neck, relaxing once his touch starts to gently rub and massage against your back. It’s as if that momentary lapse of self control you usually have when it comes to your work frustrations is quickly covered up the moment Chul starts comforting the way you always do. “Sounds very good to me…as long as I can reciprocate it? I can’t just have myself be the only one to receive some tender treatment from you,” the suggestion to keep equal grounds falls upon his open ears. With an eager nod and a tired sigh, Chul nods, “Great…now let’s get ourselves some sleep, okay? I always feel so comfortable in your arms, and it makes me so tired…” he suggests. You nod, closing your own eyes and clinging to him a bit more.

Sleep quickly takes the two of you away together, the exhaustions of no longer having someone to hold at night now gone.

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x teen!reader - a demigod’s fate

Part one:

Looking at the school, you grumbled a little bit to yourself, cursing the prophets out for sending you here, and you looked at the man next to you.

“You remember why you’re here?” He asked.

“Yeah, hellmouth and all that. Why are you even here Hermes?”

He shrugged a little, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Somebody has to act as a legal guardian for you while you get enrolled.”

“Yeah, because my father clearly can’t do that himself.”

Hermes sighed, walking over to the main doors with you, holding them open so you could go through.

“You know the rules, he can’t. I shouldn’t even be here but Zeus allowed my just so we can get you in without a problem.”

You leant against the wall while he spoke to the person behind the reception desk, then the god walked back over to you.

He stood in front of you, offering you a small smile.

“I think you’ll enjoy it here.”

“What? People, demons, vampires, every greek monster coming straight here. Yeah, that’s going to be a lot of fun.”

He sighed.

“You have everything you need right? Just like they told you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I have to go after this, but I’ll deliver any messages to you if there is any. Remember your father pays for your apartment, and you’ll get more than enough money to survive.”

You said nothing, you just watched as he walked away.

You had no intention of sticking around for classes, so when Hermes came back towards you.

“Remember you were told.”

“Stay away from the slayer, don’t let her find out because she’ll see me as a demon and kill me, and she can see through the mist.”

He nodded, giving you one last look before he left, and you were waiting for student to come bring you to your first class of the day.

Pulling the parchment from your pocket you read the words on in, simply just warning about the hellmouth in a ridiculous riddle.

It didn’t say anything more, just that the child of hades will go, and stay until it was dealt with, that was it.

Rolling it back up, you put it in the pocket on the inside of your black jacket, and you took the coin out of your pocket.

To anybody else it was just a simple coin with the symbol of death on, but for you, it was a lifeline, protection.

You glanced to the side, looking at the red haired girl who had walked over.

“Hi! I’m Willow… I uh.. I was told to come and get you, you are (Y/N) right? Like I haven’t gotten you mixed up with somebody else?” She asked nervously.

You slipped the coin back into your other pocket and you pushed yourself from the wall, looking at her with a cold gaze it literally made her shiver.

She took a step back, looking at you with a nervous smile.

“That’s me.”

“Oh! Oh great! So, we have English right now, but you’re in all of my classes so you can stay with me all day.”

Willow glanced at you.

“O.. only if you want…”

She began to walked and you trailed behind her, watching her glance at you again before she looked away.

“What other classes do we have?”

“Uh.. there’s math, science, we do have a free period, then we have gym at the end of the day.”

You huffed.

“All boring aside from the last one I guess.”

“Oh they aren’t so bad, if you need any help you can always ask me, I have good grades so I can help you.”

You said nothing and she led you into the class, and the teacher looked at you.

“Names (Y/N) it’s my first day, don’t bother trying to get me to introduce myself.”

“Right.. well.. thank you I suppose. Take a seat at the back.” She said.

You walked to the empty desk and dropped yourself in it, resting your head in your arms in the hopes it’ll make it pass quickly.

Thankfully it did, and when the bell went you stood up, walking back over to Willow who was talking to her friends.

“Uh Willow, you seem to have grown a new shadow.” The man said.

She turned around, a bright smile gracing her face.

“(Y/N)! Are you ready for science? Oh guys this is (Y/N), they started today, (Y/N) this is Buffy and Xander.”

They waved and you stared at them before looking at the friendly redhead.

“Math.”

“Right, yeah, we’re heading there now. Come on.”

They talked while walking and you trailed behind them, looking around the school, memorising all the exits and anything else that could be of use for you.

“So… has anybody asked about the scar yet?” Xander asked.

“Xander!” The two girls hissed.

You grabbed him by the jacket, slamming him into some lockers.

“Don’t mention it again.” You warned.

He quickly nodded his head and you let him go, walking into the class behind Willow.

Again, it was nothing of interest to you, and when it came from break between classes you made yourself scarce, wondering away.

When the bell went again you were back with the small group.

It went the same as the other classes, you simply just slept, and when it came to lunch, you didn’t know what to do.

“Do you want something to eat?” Buffy asked.

“No.”

“Do you want anything?” Xander asked next.

You looked at him in boredom.

“I want you to shut up.”

He raised his hands and you looked around in boredom.

“I’m gone, I’ll find you later Willow.”

You walked away, and you began your hunt.

The first thing you needed to do was find the heart of the hellmouth, that is what you needed to know the exact location of it.

The joys of being a demigod was that you could feel the power radiating from it, so, all you did was follow the source of the power, and eventually into the library.

You looked around, and you slowly made your way way, wondering up the steps until you were stood in the centre of the it.

You could feel the powers and you understood why they were all going there, and it made you wonder what was really coming for it, and why you were sent.

“Oh hello, I never heard you come in. Are you alright? May I help you with something by any chance?”

You looked up from where you were looking and looked at the British man who offered you a smile.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I.. I… would ask you not to use that language please, but I do apologise for not introducing myself, I am Mr Giles, the librarian. Whom might you be?”

You stared at him.

“None of your business.”

You made your way back down the stairs and he watched you leave in confusion, and just as you were leaving the others came in.

They greeted you and you just offered them a nod of your head as you left again, deciding to leave the school grounds all together.

“I see you met the new student.” Xander said.

Giles pushed his glasses up, making his way back down the stairs with a few books in his hands.

“Yes, well I never got a name however.”

“Oh, that’s (Y/N). They have a very cool gothic kind of look going on.”

“And they already threatened Xander.” Buffy said.

Giles furrowed his brows as he set the books on the table, turning to the boy in question.

“And what exactly did Mr Harris do to annoy (Y/N) if they’ve been here for less than a day?”

“Asked them about the scar on their face.” Xander said.

“Scar?”

“You didn’t see it?” Willow asked.

Giles shook his head, sitting down in the chair as he began to flick through the books he had brought over.

“I can’t say I was able to get a rather good look at them, they left not long after I found them stood at the top of the stairs staring at the floor.”

Everybody shared a confused look before they went back to what they were doing.

You on the other hand went back to your apartment, sitting on your couch you picked up your notebook, making a quick note of where the hellmouth was.

You just couldn’t find a connection to any mythical creature that would place them here.

It seemed like normal supernatural stuff, not demigod work.

Looked at your TV, you turned it on.

It soon became apparent to everybody that you were going to be a trouble student with grades and attendance.

On the days you actually went in you spent a lot of time in detention, just idly staring at the work you had to catch up on, and today was no different.

Sitting in the library with the others, you stared at the text book and the paper next to it.

“Come on (Y/N), if you don’t catch up on your work you’ll get suspended.” Willow sighed.

“Would that really be any different? I mean it’s not like they’re here anyway.” Xander said.

You glared at him.

“Keep talking I’ll drag you from that chair and shove you in the smallest locker I can find.”

“Now, now, play nice, nobody is shoving anybody into a locker.” Buffy said.

She looked up from her paper and glanced at yours.

“Damn, I was hoping you had something so I could copy it.”

You glanced at her before looking away, tilting your head to look up at the ceiling.

“Keep dreaming summers, this is a waste of time, I’m only here because I have to be.”

“Is the library really that bad?” Giles chuckled.

He set a tray of tea down and set all your cups down in front of you all.

He picked up your text book, and he read over the work that you were supposed to be doing before he set it back down.

“You should both be catching up on the work that you need to do, there isn’t long until the end of the school term until Halloween, you remember what you were told if it wasn’t all caught up by then?”

“Yeah, yeah, suspension, parent meetings, all that.” Buffy said.

She turned her attention back to her work while you just carried on sitting there staring up at the ceiling.

“(Y/N)? Is there uh… is there something I may be able to help with?” Giles asked you.

You didn’t reply, you just carried on staring at the ceiling and he walked back to his chair to sit down, not wanting to push you.

You looked back at your textbook but you never started your work, instead you closed it and slid it over to table towards Willow.

“This is a waste of time.”

“If you need help we can help, don’t give up.” Willow frowned.

You went to reply but you saw a movement out the corner of your eye, and you recognised it immediately.

Getting up, you shoved your chair out of the way and left the library, looking down the hallway to, then to the floor next to the door.

Walked over, you picked up three scroll and opened it to read the writing.

‘Monster on the outskirts of the city.’

Shoving it into your pocket, you grabbed your coin, flipping it in the air.

There was a small light, and you caught the sword in your hand, making your way to the darkest corner of the school, walking through the shadows.

Standing on the edge of the city you smirked a little, rolling your shoulders as you stared at the monster.

“I’ve been looking for a good fight, it’s about time.”

You lunged forward, shadows licking the edge of your blade as you swung it.

It was about time you had a good fight, and you were looking to blow off some steam and this was the way to do it.

The group in the library looked at your books and Willow sighed, gathering them all up only to be stopped by Giles.

“Don’t worry yourself with this, I’ll see that these are returned, just focus on your own studies, you’re a smart girl Willow, we wouldn’t want you falling behind.”

Giles took your books, taking them to his office so he could put them aside for you.

Willow was stressed trying to help you, and right now they didn’t need any more stress, so he was trying to find a way that he would be able to help you.

But you didn’t seem to have an interest in being helped.

Walking back out, he sat back down at the table.

“So, did you find anything about the demon from last night?” Xander asked.

“Actually I did, I found quite a bit on the matter, though it is no demon. Based on Buffy’s description I believe it would be this.”

Giles opened the book and turned it so the trio could look at the photo.

“What the hell is that?” Buffy asked.

“It.. it’s so… ew…” Xander mumbled.

“This would be a Cyclops, I could only find so much, most of the books unfortunately I’m unable to read due to them being in Ancient Greek, the language is lost, there is nobody I know that can translate it.”

“So we don’t know how to kill it?” Buffy asked.

Giles shook his head.

“No, but the good news is that you most likely scared it away, and seriously injured it, I highly doubt it will be making its return anytime soon, but I must admit this does concern me.”

“Why?” Willow asked.

He looked at her.

“This means it isn’t just vampires and a few demons you must worry about. Now you must worry about Greek monsters, these are not to be taken lightly, some of these monsters are beyond anything you could deal with, larger, stronger, some travel in packs, some of powers.”

They all went silent.

“Without a way to translate the texts we have, we won’t be able to do anything except hope for the best, I only have a handful of books, most of these new monsters won’t even be covered in anything I have.”

“What about the council?” Buffy asked.

“They looked, they are unable to help, even they don’t have such access to these scripts, nobody knows where to find them, we have to work from what we have I’m afraid.”

She nodded her head, and took the book so she could flick through it, looking through the photos at all the different monsters.

She was trained for vampires not Greek monsters, while you on the other hand were, and neither of you knew that you were both working towards the same cause.

You didn’t care about whatever demons she had to fight, you just wanted to fulfil your prophecy so you could get out of the boring town, and hopefully soon because school became the death of you.

Making your way back to your apartment, you stretched a little, wincing in pain and you made your way to the large mirror in the living room.

You were a little beat, but nothing they wouldn’t heal in a matter of days, so you walked to your map on the wall to mark the location.

You had the cyclops marked you stumbled across half dead the previous night as well, narrowing your eyes to try and find a link but you were unable to

[gibbearish]

"Am I Trans?" UQuiz Masterpost

hey there folks, my pinned was getting a bit unwieldy so i figured itd be prudent to set up this landing pad for uquiz visitors. this is not the FAQ, that is still in the works, this is just the intro stuff moved to its own post.

so, with all that out of the way, welcome! my asks and messages are currently OPEN and response times are SLOW. i will be updating this post on a regular basis, so if that says open then you can rest assured it is still current. or if it's not and i forgot to update it, that's on me, not you.

before anything else, i do just want to make it extremely, deeply, incredibly, achingly, transparently clear that i am not in any way a certified / licensed gender therapist. i do not have any training, nor is there an ethics board with which you can take up a complaint if i end up misreading things. i am simply a trans person on the internet who noticed a couple years ago that there were pretty much no "am i trans" quizzes that i could find that werent uhhh let's say unhelpful, and so i made my own, using my own feelings and experiences as a starting point. i may misread you, i may project myself or previous visitors onto you, i may get frustrated with you, i may be wrong about you. i ask that you try to give me grace, to remember that i am human, and to proceed at your own risk.

i take these conversations very seriously and want to be as thorough as possible, but that takes a good deal of work / effort / energy to do well, and as i am currently over a year into a massive depressive episode, that all compounds into long response times. which i do understand can be frustrating, feeling like you're waiting for someone's permission to be yourself (although if that is how it makes you feel, consider what that might say about the answer - i am not actually holding you back from anything by not responding. you can be trans, you don't need my permission or anyone else's. only your own), but i ask for patience, and that you please refrain from spamming me every time i come online. playing stardew valley is a lot less taxing than doing bootleg internet therapy. i haven't forgotten about you, i just havent found the right words yet.

in the meantime, i would recommend a quick scroll through my #uquibberish tag, which contains any asks from other uquiz visitors as well as posts i think are thematically relevant to a lot of these conversations. who knows, maybe you'll find that the answers you seek are very similar to the answers i've given another.

one thing to note is that asks do take a good deal less mental energy to respond to given the more one-and-done nature, so responses to those will likely be faster than for DMs, however i won't be able to get as personal (unless you give me a lot to work with, please do not feel self conscious about sending long asks/messages, they really are quite helpful in terms of giving me stuff to analyze). i also sometimes get a little silly with the ask responses, however i will still always make sure to include a real answer of some sort in the tags.

that all being said, i really do need to stress the fact that i am a real person you are talking to. i am not a gender therapy chatbot and i am not paid to do this. i do this because i want to help, but in order to do that successfully, i need your help as well. i do not know you as a person beyond the things that you tell me, and i am both unable and unwilling to simply assign you a new gender, to pluck your "true" gender out of your head. usually, all i really end up doing is pointing out what things are holding you back from the answer you already know. if you are unwilling to tell me anything about your thoughts and feelings, then i'm sorry, but i'm just. not going to be able to help you out very much. figuring out who you are is something that is difficult and takes a lot of introspection, and is something that you may even never actually get a solid answer on. the question you should be asking is not "what am i, really?" but "what do i want to be? what would it make me happy to be? how would i like to exist in my time on this earth?"

now, with all of that out of the way, i do also know that it can be difficult to know where to start, so here is a rough list of things that i've found helpful in the past. you do not need to provide any of these if you are not comfortable doing so, they are here exclusively to give ideas on where to start. now, with that out of the way:

- age range: to be clear, i do not need to know your exact age and you should always be wary of someone who asks for that. that being said, a general range can be pretty helpful for me to contextualize your message to your stage of life. like, think "middle school vs. high school vs. college or older" type general range.

- similarly, what country/state you live in, and if non-US, a bit about your local political climate vis a vis trans people. once again i do not want or need your exact location and you should be wary of those who try to get it from you, but for a lot of people, the main thing holding them back from transitioning is that the world simply isn't a safe place for trans people at the moment, so knowing if that is in play can be very helpful. I am a USAmerican and have a pretty good grasp of which way the states here tend to lean, and have a much rougher grasp on other countries. I don't want to go into this with some wildly propagandized version of your home in my head and would much prefer to get my information about it from you, the person being actively affected.

- your quiz answer and how it made you feel: with this one the important part is really the second part. i said this in the quiz itself but it bears repeating, i do not have any knowledge of how to properly weight the answers in a personality test, i assigned each answer a result (or multiple results) based entirely on vibes. that being said, if you are now having a lot of complicated feelings about your result, those feelings are the ones we're going to be examining. whether you've been having these feelings for a long time or they only just recently started, if you've been quizhopping searching for an answer (and if there's been a common denominator among those answers that you're avoiding looking in the eye), what the shape of those feelings are, that's the kind of thing we're going to be looking at. don't feel bad if you can't see the feelings themselves yet, this is an exercise in finding the negative space. the thing about facing the things you don't want to face is that you don't want to face them, which sounds obvious put like that, but like. you can't look straight at the sun without the right glasses. not without hurting yourself. the things your brain hides from you, takes away your ability to look at, are hidden for a reason, there is something that is scaring you, something you are defending against, a knot that must be unraveled before we can continue unwinding the thread. it's ok if all you can do for now is point to where the knot is.

- what name you used on the quiz and what day you took it: uquiz allows you to view individual quiz taker's results so if you are comfortable with it, i'm happy to take a peek through to see if there are any trends. as i write this the quiz is sitting at good god, 13000 takers, so if you keysmashed a name unfortunately it has probably been lost to the sands of time :( that being said...

- any questions / answers that hit especially hard: here is a link to a google doc where i've compiled all the questions and answers as reference, so this way if we can't find your quiz or you don't want to share the whole thing, we still have a pretty good starting point on which parts apply to you (side note, i also have a feedback form, however i couldnt think of very many specific questions to ask so just put in two textboxes for you to put your suggestions in)

- family dynamics: as with the country of origin question, something that can hold a lot of trans people back from transitioning is pressure from their family to. well. to not do that, so knowing if that is contributing can be very helpful

- friend dynamics: same as above, some people are held back by the potential reaction of their friendgroup, or alternatively are certain their friends would react positively but still can't shake that feeling, and figuring out if that fear is warranted can be a huge stepping stone in this.

that's all i have for now, though this post may be subject to changes as time goes on. as i said before i am also (slowly) working on a FAQ, so hopefully soon we'll have a way to bridge the response time gap. in the meantime, i hope this was helpful, and i do again highly recommend taking a look through the #uquibberish tag to see if any past questions/answers might apply to you as well. thanks!

(last edited 9/8/24)

[suzyq31]

Found Update and Note

I updated Found with the last bit of writing I did on this story. I've also included a note that I'll copy at the bottom of this post. The image below is from one of the films that has inspired me (Aftersun, cannot recommend it enough, but be prepared to sob). So this story is now officerly on hiatus, and I have no plans to share publicly moving forward. If we are mutuals on here, please don't fret. I'll find a way to share with you when it's done ❤️

Hi,

I’ve been posting a note with my updates. If you’ve missed it, you can read it here. This update and this note are a little different.

Back in August a reader reached out to me on tumblr and shared some of what was being said about this story on discord. Since then I’ve done my best to ignore the queasy feeling whenever I update. Sharing your work can feel daunting, especially when you know that people are waiting to find plot holes, criticize your character's choices to the point of making fun of it etc. There’s no joy when you have that hanging over your head. I started this story solely for my own enjoyment, and to challenge myself, and I miss that.

I want to listen to my gut feeling—which is that I won’t finish this story unless I take it back for myself. And I really want to finish it. I’ve watched some amazing films recently with 11 year old protagonists, and it’s stirred up my desire to reconnect with this story. But in order to do this I have to pull back from sharing, which is why I have decided I won’t be continuing on Ao3. I didn't want to just leave a note, which is why I have included the first half of Chapter 18, the rest is still in draft form as I've lost all momentum and the negativity just made me doubt every choice/idea.

I’m aware that there are far more lovely readers than those who like to tear apart others' work in public spaces, which is why I wanted to take my time with this decision. Also it’s not about punishing anyone and I don’t want this to come across as being done in anger. There are more important causes to focus that energy on. Instead this is about being honest. Words shared in those spaces do impact writers, and from what I’ve been hearing from readers, it affects them too. I don’t have power over how people choose to show up and engage in this fandom. What I can control is my own actions and decisions. I’m working hard on trusting myself more, now and in the future. So I give myself grace if future me ever feels differently, I trust her. For now, this is what feels right.

For those readers I've connected with over the years, I hope that I’ll find a way to share this privately whenever it’s done, even if it’s missing some scenes and not as polished as I normally aim for. I have as much desire to start a discord group, as I do having my soul sucked out by a dementor, so I really haven’t come up with a solution on how to share this other than maybe through DMs at some point in the (likely far) future.

Alright, this is kind of a bummer of a post, and I’m sorry to let anyone down. But I’m no longer prioritizing other people’s feelings over my own needs. Something that is hard when you’ve been a lifelong people pleaser.

I hope this can leave on a more positive note. If you want fandom to feel like a kinder place, make it one! The smallest step but also the most meaningful is commenting on more stories. Especially if they don’t have many comments, or if it’s an author’s first story and you want to encourage them. I know it would probably make their day. I’ll link the Harmony Directory as there are so many great stories to choose from.

All the best, Suzy

[readingrobin]

Since I was caught up in the Magical Readathon this month, it gave me the opportunity to pick up my pace a bit reading-wise. Managed to get into those sweet double digits when it came to how much I read and the majority of them were great. It started off on a high note, but I think by the end I was getting into some very lukewarm reads. Nothing too terrible, since I didn't manage to DNF anything this month, but it's always disappointing to end a month with a whimper rather than a bang.

Total Books Reads: 11

Total Pages Read: 3,520

Books Read:

Murder for the Modern Girl by Kendall Kulper (3.5/5) (Review)

All the Stars and Teeth by Adalyn Grace (3/5) - A sea faring journey is just what I needed to get in the mood for a summer that feels not too far off. I will say, this book definitely lives up to its promise of adventure, due to its tense, bloody action and introduction to a world with a interesting magic system, though I did find myself constantly confused and unable to really visualize soul magic. I think the book's greatest strength is its setting, where each island holds its own kind of magic and traits. Though we didn't see every island, I'm sure the rest will be left for the sequel to explore, there was enough to sate me for this particular journey.

When it comes to our main crew, I think I have to echo some other reviews by saying Amora comes off as the least interesting. Bastian has his charm and inner turmoil that he tries to keep behind a mischievous facade, Ferrick, his foil, a bit more straight laced and focused, while also having the neat featuring of regrowing limbs, and Vataea, a mermaid with a sultry, yet scary strength. And Amora is…just there. She's the princess, our main character, the one who believes she alone can save the kingdom, which somewhat makes me feel like she views her crew as nothing more than lackeys and sidekicks who are but tools to help her get to each destination while she does the most self-sacrifical work. I know she's meant to be a stubborn royal who was most likely raised to believe so, but it still doesn't exactly put her in the best light to the reader.

The writing itself kept my attention, but the plot had the standard twists and formula one finds in most YA fantasy. Nothing wrong with a formulaic plot, but there should be some sort of window dressing or aesthetic that keeps it from fading into the background with all the rest like it. My mind was starting to expect certain plot beats, only to go "ah, there it is" when the shoe inevitably dropped.

Mage and the Endless Unknown by SJ Miller (4/5) - Not gonna lie, this graphic novel gets rough. If you're up for seeing a little mage constantly facing some sort of traumatizing event from the terrifying creatures he meets on his travels, well, this'll certainly do it for you. The artist really has a knack for drawing unnerving, rigidly detailed creatures that give off a Junji Ito vibe. The contrast of the amount of gore, violence, and disturbing visuals offset the more friendly and cartoonish looking mage, giving the idea that one of these things doesn't belong in this setting. Though upsetting at points, there is a glimmer of hope to this comic, one that offers a sense of peace and rest. The comic does have a physical release coming out, but you can read it now on the magecomic website.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger (4/5) - It's odd how I went into this book having both some expectations, mostly due my friends and everyone else lauding it extensively, and no expectations at all. This pretty much happens whenever I'm 3-5 years behind reading the latest hot titles. But Elatsoe really does live up to its clout. The world has a somewhat normalized take on the paranormal, where vampires, or "cursed" individuals, magic users, and faeries are a known part of the world, interacting with society with life pretty much going on as normal. Well, aside from the string of mysterious deaths that seem to linger around a small town in the middle of Texas. It presents a setting that is both familiar and yet holds a bit of intrigue in a sort of alternate Earth containing all the history of our world with just some extra bits.

I loved the incorporation of Lipan Apache culture in the story, giving it an identity all its own and more weight to its events. The theme of oppressors actively displacing and sacrificing the oppressed to survive and further their own needs will always be haunting, especially when tied to the history between colonizers and indigenous peoples. Little Badger gives an equal amount of lamentation for the crimes of the past and present, while also celebrating the endurance of culture and its teachings that are passed down throughout the ages. 

A big plus for making Ellie's asexuality just a casual feature of her character rather than making it an entire plot point. As an asexual person, I'm glad to have any normalizing representation that's more than an entire story where the protagonist has to repeatedly defend and validate their sexuality to other people. Here, it's just a part of her being, no big thing, and that's the way it should be. 

Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher (4/5) - I've been hearing a lot of good things about T. Kingfisher and how I would really jive with her work. Well, diving into a story with a main character that has trouble really understanding the world around her while also bringing together a group that may qualify as one of the odder found families definitely wins me over.

I think what really endears me to this book is how much I appreciate Marra as a character. I love how, despite how constantly and profoundly out of her depth she is, she is still determined to do anything to protect her family. That, while she is surrounded by people who, on the surface, are more exemplary and powerful, she is capable of working marvels. What makes her stand out among other royal heroines is that her abilities are not tied to skills she earned through her title or some kind of destiny, but a certain domesticity she finds comfort in and developed all by herself. Marra is a self made woman, wanting to make herself of use to others instead of sitting around, waiting to be used as a chess piece. I think there's something amiable in depicting a sort of power in the mundane, that, with enough determination and love, could be as strong as any weapon or magic.

The writing style makes it so immersive as a dark fairy tale. Kingfisher always nails the tone of a scene, whether it be unnerving, reflective, mysterious, or tinged with a hint of humor. There were some elements I think could have been expanded upon. I wish we got a little bit more characterization from Prince Vorling other than what we got as second hand accounts. Most of the time, he never really felt like a threat, just something far away and not really tangible, despite his lingering marks on Kania. I really wanted to see more of that Goblin Market as well. So very ripe with fantastical possibilities.

The Moth Keeper by K. O'Neill (3/5) - O'Neill, throughout all of their work, knows what it takes to make each of their worlds atmospheric, engaging, and magical. It's mainly through their artwork, which is just totally immaculate here. The night scenes, will covered in a dark, expansive sky, still have a certain glow about them, coming from Anya's lantern and the ethereal presence of the moths. The adding of animal characteristics to the characters also bring about a certain kind of charm, though I wonder if there was a purpose behind these designs beyond aesthetic. The art itself make it worth checking out, but I don't think it ultimately saves a story that seems somewhat empty.

I think, as I was reading, I never felt totally ingrained in the world. It seemed almost aloof in nature, not really explaining certain things or leaving other elements up to interpretation. I mentioned the story seeming somewhat empty, which kind of makes sense for one that has a desert setting and deals with feelings of loneliness in a community and isolating yourself. But there's not really much else that compensates for that space, not in depth worldbuilding or interesting character dynamics. The message is a reassuring one, that your responsibilities in your community shouldn't be a source of isolation, but rather a way to get closer to them. It's a simple, reflective story, which is fine, but I think I was expecting more out of the premise.

The Cloud Roads by Martha Wells (3/5) - Wells certainly has a penchant for emotionally aloof and antisocially prone main characters, but I'm all for it. In a world devoid of humans and populated by a slew of humanoid creatures, the story offers a setting completely alien to the reader, which leaves a lot up to the imagination. At first, it was somewhat difficult for me to properly visualize all the differences between the species. The book already has an appendix for how to differentiate between the Raksura and the Fell, so it would have been helpful to have another that focused on the other races in the world.

I don't know if this is just me, but I thought that it was somewhat odd that, despite possibly coming from a similar ancestor, the Raksura are an all sentient, rational thinking race among all their classes, but the Fell are a mostly animalistic hivemind species aside from their rulers. It kind of made for a messy parallel and I think was to make the reader empathize more with the Raksura and showcase the Fell as entirely evil with no capability for civility. I suppose it certainly helps side with the heroes as the two constantly slaughter each other, but it makes for a pretty boring antagonist that is simply evil scary monsters just because. The story seemed like it had a few opportunities to go deeper than that, as Cloud has a history with them and Wells has shown that she is capable of more nuanced storytelling, but fell off about halfway through.

I wish there had been more time set aside for Cloud to truly learn about his people and reflect on his place in their society before they thrust him into the hierarchical issues and the disputes with the Fell. Cloud has only just found his people for the first time after losing his mother and siblings as a child, wandering alone and hiding what he is from others, and I don't think we get a lot of him reflecting on what that truly means. Also, imagine going through all that, and discovering that your main purpose in that society was basically to breed. Again, may just be a personal thing, but I know that would certainly lead to an existential dilemma for me. Personally, I'm not a fan of society structures as, "you're born as this class, so obviously you must serve that role forever" seems too dystopic for my tastes. Wells subverts this with Chime in a way, but again, doesn't really tap the full ramifications or intrigue behind it.

The Sandman Universe: Nightmare Country Vol 1. by James Tynion IV and Lisandro Estherran (5/5) - It's very rare that I find a Sandman-affiliated comic that I don't like really. I love this world and all the terrifying sorts of beings that live within it. I know Tynion more for his young adult Wynd series, but know that he's very capable at writing horror and Nightmare Country certainly proves it. This comic takes Sandman back to its horror roots, following the Corinthian as a being with teeth for eyes other than him has been stalking a woman in her waking life for some time now. This volume serves as a good setup to the story, getting all our main players in, bringing back some familiar faces and introducing some new ones. With how the story ended, I'm really interested to see where exactly it's going to go.

Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson (4/5) (Review)

Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova (3/5) - I feel very lukewarm about Labyrinth Lost. It wasn't a particularly bad book, I think it's just one where I've read similar stories before and they were told in a way that was more gripping to me. I didn't really connect with the simpler writing style, or connect with any of the characters. I think the only elements that I was really interested in was the magic system and the environments of Los Lagos. I'm always a fan of the trope of the tempting feast, the one meant to lure you in with delicious food and fascinating company, only to trick you into eating dirt and keep you there forever. It's a portal fantasy staple, really. 

It may be just a me thing since I was breezing through this book so quickly, but the pacing felt a bit off at times, with the action starting and stopping so often, especially towards the end. I think what really threw me off about the group is that we don't really have a strong trio of characters between Alex, Nova, and Rishi. Usually in fantasies that usually follow a group of three characters off on a typical quest, there's some cohesion to them. They may get off to a rocky start, but eventually they really start to work well as a unit and become stronger for it. Here, the group doesn't really feel like a stable triangle, as they usually range from being incredibly snarky and antagonistic towards each other (Alex and Nova at the start, then Rishi taking over that job from Alex as the two start to get on better) or being completely devoted to each other (Nova warming up to Alex, as well as Rishi being a constant supportive force and that's it). I wish Rishi got some kind of quality that made her more of an asset to the team other than Alex's best friend and love interest. She literally just fell into the portal to Los Lagos after Alex on accident and really doesn't serve a function other than backing Alex up. It doesn't make her that memorable as a character and it's a little disappointing.

I know there's plot reasons as to why they don't really feel like a great team but the twist towards the end probably would have hit a lot harder if they were. 

Other than that, the family dynamic was a great element of the story, which makes it a bummer that we don't really see more of them. I know the sequel follows Alex's sister, which would probably focus a bit more on that aspect, but I don't think I gel enough with this writer or the overall story to continue.

The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson (2/5) - Though I may not have liked this book very much, I will say that I appreciate that it introduced me to an interesting aspect of history that I had not known before, such as the Pack Horse project and the Blue Fugates family. I'm a real big fan of pieces of history that slips through the cracks and lead the way for improvement in societies that were disadvantaged, which was one of the aims of the Pack Horse project. To know the dedication of librarians in this context, to be introduced how they would travel in dangerous conditions to bring people books and magazines that would either give them a relief for their hard lives, or help them learn new skills that would help them contribute in new ways to their families or communities was a much welcome lesson.

That's probably the only praise I can really give this book. I wasn't a fan of how this book centered on the constant sense of tragedy that lingers around Cussy May. It seems that, no matter how little good she experiences, she can't hold onto it for long or it's overshadows by the many, many horrible things that happen to her. Numerous sexual assaults, medical assault, losing so many people. At some point, it almost feels manipulative that we're constantly supposed to feel bad for Cussy, but at some point it gets to be too much to take seriously. Did I feel anger at all the injustice she faced? Sure, as any rational minded person would. But when the only thing your character experiences is constant hardship without any slack, it gets to be real repetitive and boring. And that ending was just the cherry out a cake made out of frustration and emotional exhaustion.

When it came to the author's treatment of race in the book, I'm just gonna say that it's a bit messy in certain scenarios. Framing Cussy, a person with blue skin, as someone who is somehow treated more poorly than the few black people in the community, was, I don't know, probably not a great choice. The scene with the doctor's Jamaican servant (you can tell she's Jamaican because the author makes sure to lean hard into the accent), who doesn't even let Cussy into his house or provide her a drink when he asks her to, just felt a little tone deaf. 

While I'm glad this books highlights the importance of literature within a community, as well as how wealth and information disparity leads people to become more disadvantaged, misinformed, and generally have harder ways of living, its tone and content just felt a little overbearing.

Average Rating: 3.5/5

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Fucking Chuck

My body ached all over. Two shifts, back to back, working two different jobs. This shit had been getting to me.

My feet were barking so loud, my shoes felt like they were on fire. My fingers and hands were a reddish-pink from the actual fire, from the heat of the day. Burns from handling hot ceramics and metal cutlery to stack them up on carts as soon as the steaming machine’s conveyor belts spat them out.

I should have been home already. I should have been going to bed soon. But I wanted to spend more time up. There was a book I had been reading that I desperately wanted to finish so I could say I had finished reading at least one book that year. More likely, I was going to be stuck on my phone or the computer, wasting my time as I scrolled endlessly through waterfalls of verbal diarrhea and depressing news, until I was too tired to think farther than brushing my teeth and collapsing into bed.

The wiser thing would have been to go straight home and catch up on some sleep. But I didn’t pride really myself on wise choices.

Instead, here I was. Sitting in this coffee shop chain store, sipping a pumpkin spice latte while I gazed out the window, watching the city’s traffic and dreaming about better days. The coffee was supposed to get me through the bus ride home, and help eke out those couple of hours extra before I inevitably fell asleep for a solid four or five hours, only to get back up in the morning to bust my ass at the gas station.

The barista who had served me my latte slid into my booth, right across from me. I froze with shock. Didn’t know this guy. His nametag read “Chuck”.

He smiled at me. His expression was weird, like a mixture between a grimace and a smug grin.

A grinace, if you will. Sorry, but I’m going to keep using that.

“Can I help you?” I asked him. Even tired, I still had attitude. It’s how I made up for my other shortcomings.

I didn’t know this guy, and I immediately wanted him to leave.

His grinace widened.

“Hey,” he said, wielding the same voice as he had during our business transaction. Even when forking over cash for an overpriced latte, he had this sexy kind of smoky voice. Raspy in a pleasant way, bordering on the seductive. All told, I would have liked it under other circumstances, such as hearing it on the other end of a phone call. But as it stood, he was creeping me out with it. “My shift’s over. Mind if I sit here and chat a little bit? Grace?”

My name was written in black ink on the side of my cup. He had written it there himself. It wasn’t my real name, because I don’t give out my real name in settings like these, and exactly because of guys like him.

“I do.”

“You don’t mind, or you—”

“Yeah, I mind. Do you mind?”

His grinace faltered, if only ever so slightly. A simple twitch around the corners of his lips. Typical for his type—physically attractive, well-groomed, superficially polite—he probably wasn’t used to outright rejection. His features were way too symmetrical and sharp for that, and the rest of his silhouette spoke volumes to someone who spent a lot of time in gyms and in front of mirrors.

I’m getting carried away, but I would be remiss to not paint a proper picture.

This is a warning.

I was just slivers of self-control away from breaking out into a cold sweat.

See, I have had a nightmare of this before. Almost this exact situation. It wasn’t a “Chuck”, and Not-Chuck was not as good-looking, and it sure as hell wasn’t in this branded venue. It wasn’t even in the inner city.

It wasn’t real. It had just been a bad dream.

This, however, was real.

The awkward silence in lieu of any reply only added to the dizziness I was starting to feel over all this. My stomach felt like I had been punched in it and my guts and muscles were all knotting up in response.

I was just ready to bolt. I was even telling myself that: splash the latte in his face, and run.

“Sorry, I,” he sighed. “I went about this all wrong, didn’t I? I’ll go.”

So, I didn’t bolt. I was probably more paralyzed than anything, anyway, regardless of what he just said. A deer caught in the headlights, split seconds from getting hit by the speeding car.

“I’ll go,” he said again, tapping the table between us twice.

He slid back out of the booth.

And, you know? Good. I grabbed my bag and jacket and the latte and made to leave, but now he stepped in my way.

Blocked the end of the bench I was sitting on.

He rested one hand on the table, the other on the backrest of the bench. He stared down at me, and his eyes glittered, glinting with something strange.

Predatory.

“I’m sorry, but I just—I have to. You know, there’s these chance encounters in life, and, y’know—w-what are the odds we never see each other again? I can’t let every chance slip away through my fingers.”

I took a shuddering breath and whatever I said next, my voice quaked. Yes, I admit, there was fear swinging in it. Mostly, though, I was furious.

“Chuck, I’m only going to say this once. Get out of my way, or I’m going to scream. Or do worse things to you.”

Other people in the café were all out of earshot. Neither me nor Chuck were talking loud enough to eclipse the surrounding conversations between patrons and people at the counter, so nobody had any clue what situation I was facing here.

He did the smart thing. He backed away, with his hands raised in surrender. He let his head hang, but the grinace stayed plastered to his face.

“Okay, okay, I get the hint. Again, I’m sorry. Can I, at least, you know, if you change your mind, give you my nu—”

“Get out of my way,” I repeated.

Was he stupid? I never wanted to see him again. He had raised so many red flags that I was seeing all red through my growing dizziness. If I was a bull, I was about to charge at him and spear my horns through his fucking heart.

I glared at him with the fury of someone who wished him to drop dead on the spot. I also wanted to run, but I didn’t want to show any weakness.

His slimy presence made it feel like he was the kind of guy who pounced on weakness.

Getting smarter by the second, he backed away another step and afforded me plenty of space to leave. I snatched my items and stormed out of the place, vowing to never return. Maybe not even to this part of the city until I had slept on this once. Or slept on it a thousand times more.

He returned behind the counter where he talked to one of the other baristas in hushed murmurs, and the girl there shot me furtive glances while he did that.

I didn’t even want to know. I pushed my way out of the place, full steam ahead.

Making my way to the bus stop, I both appreciated the bite of cold air as much as I hated it. Though I blamed it all on Chuck. Because of how I stormed out of there, I didn’t have the hands free to sling my jacket on until I reached the bus stop bench, but that cold sensation helped me feel alive. It was cooling me down, because my head was on fire, and spinning a million miles a minute.

Fucking Chuck.

That creep had really gotten under my skin. It had taken him so little to accomplish that.

While I plunked my bag and coffee down on the bench and finally slipped my jacket on, I mentally cursed him and wished all kinds of ill upon him. Maybe he could do everybody a favor and get his dick trapped in between two bricks smashing together?

Fucking Chuck. Made my blood curdle and chills run down my spine, especially as the temperatures clashed and I zipped up my jacket, and—

Chuck was following me.

I noticed him round the street corner that I had rounded. He no longer had his store apron on, no longer bearing any nametag to label him as Chuck. He immediately pretended to not be following me once he spotted that I had spotted him, and awkwardly turned around to hide.

I considered calling the cops, really. But I dreaded him overhearing the call, and how that might escalate the situation, maybe provoking him into more overt and aggressive action.

Instead, I just wanted to wait for the bus.

I plopped down next to an elderly lady whose face was partially covered by a bright blue scarf. She shot me a glance like I had something on my nose, then ignored me. I was tempted to tell her about what was going on. But with all my fire, I was still a deer in the headlights, and my head was spinning, and I was feeling sick.

I was mostly staring down the corner, hoping not to see Chuck ever again in my entire life.

And yet, I could feel his presence nearby. A real nightmare connection.

And the cold, well, it wasn’t really doing it for me. I was not feeling any better. In fact, I was getting dizzier by the second.

This took me back to the aforementioned nightmare. It all bubbled back up to the surface. The Not-Chuck in that nightmare had asked me something so terrifying and relevant that it now began to melt into this slice of reality.

“What would you do if I laced your drink with poison? The drink you’re drinking right now?”

And in the nightmare, it all happened so fast. That Not-Chuck just laughed and watched while I started transforming into disgusting ooze, helpless, melting into a puddle of mud.

But that was the nightmare, and this was reality.

I spied Chuck from the corner of my eye, while the streetlights dimmed. It looked like Fucking Chuck had horns? The streetlights weren’t dimming, my vision was fading. Was it just exhaustion?

Was I hallucinating? Had this creep really spiked my drink?

The bus’s brakes whined as it came to a slow stop in front of us.

But I couldn’t get on the bus. Its doors hissed as they opened, and the elderly lady got on board while I just sat there, stunned. Lost in thoughts and sinking deeper into my dread.

What if he followed me onto the bus, and I fell asleep, and he dragged me off, claiming to bystanders that he was just helping his drunk girlfriend get home?

No, no, no, no-no-nononono—

The bus doors hissed as they closed again and the big vehicle’s engine rumbled, taking off again.

The nightmare of reality was beginning to evolve into something worse than my nightmares.

I got up and staggered and stumbled my way down the sidewalk, past the blurring lights of traffic, and faces of passersby melting into demonic visages.

I had to get away from Chuck.

But the world was spinning all around me, getting worse by the second. This piece of shit had definitely done something to me, definitely drugged me. There was no other explanation.

I felt like stopping and puking, but it didn’t stop. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

I kept seeing Chuck. In reflections in windows and metal; seeing him in glances I shot over my lurching shoulders. Always following me.

And the distance between us kept shrinking. He was gaining on me.

The rest of the path became a blur. I pushed my way into some random pub. Temperatures clashed again, someone swore at me when I bumped into them, and glass clinked. Warm lights, soft lights, dark corners, eyes on me, and I was sweating like a pig.

Next thing I know, I’m puking out my guts. Wet splashes. Stinging smells, chemical and acerbic.

Next thing I know after that, I’m hugging a toilet and peeling my cheek off a sticky floor tile. Someone was banging on the stall door. Yelling at me to come out.

Checking my phone, I had lost hours, almost my entire night. I felt like I just gotten hit by a truck.

I felt like shit. Saved by a fucking bathroom stall door.

Fucking Chuck.