#haven't tried to check her blog since i promised not to do so

[fuckfuckfvvkfuckfuvkfuckfvckfuvk]

i need to find someone else to talk to about all this i can't keep crying to the same person that's not fair

[small-sinclair]

Wolves knocking at the Door

poly!Sinclairs x y/n

Tw: reader is not a wolf (only the brothers), Bo being himself (soft at the end), mentions of past killings, blood, reader gets smacked

This is a free style a/b/o prompt because no one is going to stop me and I have free will over myself. It came to me while I was eating chips and scrolling through @sketchy-rosewitch's blog the other day.

Days before a full moon are the worse in the Sinclair house, and you've taken good note of it. Bo gets angrier like throwing things across Ambrose, Vincent's kills become more violent and bloodied, and Lester just has a hard time keeping his thoughts lined and together, making it harder for him to focus or do his job.

When they were at home with you, they did their damnest to keep their emotions in check. They just wanted to make sure you didn't see the worse in them, that's all; and you knew that they were working so hard on making sure you never see that side of them.

But it's different tonight as the full moon was coming tonight, and you knew that they'll be... different. You knew they'll be out, hunting, fighting, terrorizing, killing--you knew it all but you weren't afraid. Besides, you knew that they'll never hurt you, and they make sure you have Papa's silver bullets and the blessed pistols with you just in case they even tried.

The morning started with Bo's cursing and a coffee mung breaking; that's what woke you. As you came down stairs, you were met with a broken mug on the floor and Lester in a headlock, Vincent pulling Bo away from his brother, and feverish blue eyes filled with fire and brimstone. The power he has in that pose is enough to make you want to run away, but you know better than that.

"Bo!" You snapped as you hurried into the kitchen, but you kept your distance when Vincent shot you a look. "Bo, let him go!"

With a tug, Bo was ripped off Lester's neck, Lester falling to the ground on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air as he held his neck. As Vincent backed away with bis brother locked in his grasp, you came to Lester's side and tried to help his steady his breathing.

You haven't seen Bo like this since the night you first saw him kill, when he first dug large canine teeth into your friend's neck, ripping it out to leave her to bleed out on the church floor.

You rubbed his back as he coughs, leaning into your touch. "...betta get outta here, darlin'," he breathed as he heard Vincent losing his grip and Bo stomping over to him. "Git--"

Before you had time to react to his warning, a large hand came down, and the world went quite. The birds stopped singing and the marsh stopped its song. The clouds covered the morning sun and the wind hit the house with full force. A bomb might as well gone off in the house as you faced the other way, holding your face, as the sting filled over your skin. Tears burned like acid as you cried silently. Before anyone could say or do anything, you stand and race out of the house, running down the street towards the church.

Where you still in your pajamas? Yes.

Did you care? No.

When you make it into the church, you find yourself running past their dead mother and hiding in the confessional, locking it. Going to the back of the booth, you tried to make yourself small before hiding your face in your legs, crying. He promised he would never do that, he promised to be a good man and his brothers agreed...

But how much does a promise cost, y/n? What's the payment at the end? They're beast, monsters. They are born to kill and worship the hunt on a full moon. Monsters don't keep promises.

But the Sinclairs do. They're better than this, and they'll prove it.

In a few moments, you hear the door to the church bursting open and heavy footsteps. "Y/n?" Bo called breathlessly, eyes scanning wildly over the pews and walls. "Darlin'! Come out--"

"No!" You yelled back, hugging yourself tightly. Your voice echoed from the locked confessional, and you heard Bo's boots coming to the door. He knocks, but you just yell, "Leave me alone, Bo!"

"Y/n, please com' out!" Bo shouted back, his right hand still burning from the sting. "Come out. I'll do anythin' ya want! Anythin'!" He kneels in front off the door and took in your scent, and he wanted to throw-up. He did this to you. He did this. He loves the smell of fear from his victums, but not from you. His hands rested on the door and he leaned against it. "Honey, please? Open up?"

At first, you don't move from your spot. You looked at the locked door then back at the handle. If you do open up, what'll happen? You're nervous he might yell, might feel different--

Then you hear something you thought you'd never hear: Bo whines at the door, his head thumping against the wood. It's heart aching and it tears you apart to hear him whine like a hurt puppy. You hear it again before the whine turns into him crying at the door, head still pressed against the wood. "Please, darlin," he whispers. "How do I make it better?"

You hear boots shuffling across the church floor, and Lester voice rings over, "Y/n? Ya okay? Where are ya, sweet pea?" His voice falls when he sees his brother at the confessional door, and he frowns. "Y/n?" You're not sure if you should answer him until you hear him joining his brother's side. you see their shadows through the crack on the door. "Yer okay, sweetness," he said against the door. "He didn't mean it." Lester rested his head against the door as well, closing his eyes. He didn't like how you smelled when you left the house in a panic, and he didn't like it now. "Honeydew?"

Then Vincent joins. You know his boots anywhere as he enters. You can hear him sniff the air then whimpering lowly as he joins his brothers. You could see his shadow behind his brothers as he placed a heavy hand on the door, resting his head against the cold wood.

"Sweetheart, please?" Bo's voice cracks. "Open the door? I gotta make sure yer okay."

"I'm not okay, Bo," you answer, your head raising from you hugged knees. "You hit me."

"He didn't mean it!" Lester replied. "Honest!" He's just as scared as his brothers. If you don't open up, he'll make sure Bo pays for everything. He hates hearing you so hurt and sad. That hit was supposed to hit him, not you.

"I wanna hear it from him," you said, wiping your eyes. "I want to hear it from Bo."

Bo took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ya know I didn't mean it."

Not good enough.

"Then I'm not coming out," you huffed. You're standing your ground on this one.

Vincent looks down at his twin then nodded at the door. He'll do anything to make you stop crying, to take away your pain and have it as his own. Vincent hated seeing you crying, and he hated that he wasn't strong enough to keep the other Alpha at bay. He just wanted to hold you in his arms, bury your head into his chest, and never let you go until you died. He promised himself that he would kill anyone that hurts you, and here he was, glaring at his brother.

Bo begs this time, and he sounds a bit pathetic, "Y/n. I'll do anythin'--"

"Then tell me you didn't mean it, Bo," you said again, looking at the door with hopeful eyes. "Tell me you won't do it again." You sniffled and said, "If you ever want to hold me or kiss me or fuck me, then you'll say it. If not," you looked around the room then back at the door, "I'll stay in here until you say it."

Bo grits his teeth then looks at the closed door as if he was kneeling in front of God himself. He looks down as he felt Lester's hand on his shoulder, nodding at the door.

"'M sorry, Y/n," it doesn't sound forced as he looked at the door. "'M sorry, darlin'. I swear to ya I'll that I'll never lay a hand on ya again. I promise, y/n... I swear it to you." He leans against the door and listens. "Darlin', please? Open up? Le' us see ya."

Silence filled the church before they heard you unlock the door. Bo sits up in attention, his bright blue eyes glowing and scared. Lester's plays with his hands nervously, his brown eyes were mixing to a hazel. Vincent... to say he was nervous was an understatement; he was terrified of your next words and actions. You were the best thing to happen to this little pack.

When Bo looked up to see your face, he was horrified. His hand print marked your perfect skin, and he hated himself more when he saw your puffy and red eyes trying so hard to smile down at him.

He looked as if he was a child reaching up to he picked up by his parent when his hands reached for yours, and you took them. You stepped closer and hold his head against your stomach.

''M sorry, darlin," he murmurs against your pajama shirt. "'M so sorry."

You comb through his hair, closing your eyes, and felt Vincent's arms wrap around your shoulders, taking in your scent, and Lester's hands rubbing your arms gently. Feeling your boys around you always made you feel safe and special.

You four stay like that for a while until you break the silence. "Can I cuddle you before you three have to go out tonight? Please?"

And they're all for it. They walk with you back to the house, Lester taking off his shoes to give you so you don't have to walk over the stones. Vincent holding your hand while Bo follows behind, listening to you talk about your plans for tonight while they go on their hunt.

By the time all of you are back at the house, they head to your room, the room that you share with Bo, and get ready, letting you go under the covers first to get comfortable.

First, Lester crawls in, snuggling up to your left side. Second, Vincent holds you and Lester. Third and last, Bo joins on your right side, getting a side all to himself.

For a while, you stay silent, letting the birds sing and the marsh start its song again.

Bo litters your bruised face with soft, gentle kisses while you run your fingers through Lester's hair, him humming to the touches. Vincent is looking at you as if he's seeing you for the first time. Before long, he takes off his mask and kisses your jaw.

Before you know it, you're asleep between them once more. You're safe and loved from them, and that's all you need.

When you wake up, the only one there is Bo, and your resting your head against his chest. Warm arms wrap around you protectively as he looks up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

When you look up, you can see his first stages of transformation: large brown and soft wolf ears sticking out of his hair, his nails longer and sharper, his blue eyes turning to a deeper blue mixed with purple, small patches of fur littering over his body. He'll have to leave soon before the afternoon sun sets to join his brothers.

Mainly to make sure Lester is okay while during his transformation. It always hurts him the most, so he'll need some support from his two Alphas.

When he feels your eyes on him, he looks down with sadness mixing his eyes. "'M so sorry, darling," he whispers, scared to startle you. "Forgive me?"

"I'll forgive you if you promise to start reading those anger management books I gave you." Then you thought. "Or listen to some ASMR audios."

"I'll take the books, y/n." His voice was rougher and deeper as the day grew.

You snuggle into his shirt, feeling the warmth and his heartbeat against your skin. "Works for me." You look up at him. "I love you."

He brings your face up to his as he places a kiss on your lips. "I love you more, y/n."

[nastasya--filippovna]

Ciao, Bonjour, こんにちは, Namaste, Shalom, Hàlo, Hola, 你好, Salam, Hujambo, Привет and such like. I can't believe that I have been on this Tumblr blog for almost a year now but I haven't made an introductory post. Here goes nothing! My name is Meena (well that's my chosen name but I'm gonna make it legal too {soon I promise})   I have just officially exited my teens, but tbh I don't feel any different from when I was ten. I am neurodivergent (AuDHD), ace, lesbian and genderfluid (They/She) and a Virgo. South Asian Queer Socialist and proud to be it. I'm doing law school and I probably should be studying rn but here I am goofing off on Tumblr. You'll see me going crazy about my hyperfixations which are basically a bunch of gay shows , film, art and music. You put Timothee Chalamet, Rooney Mara, Florence Pugh, David Tennant and Michael Sheen in anything and I'll watch it. I also love space. The cosmos I mean.

🌞˚..✭°・ .゜🌎༘⋆₊ ⊹★🔭๋࣭ ⭑⋆｡˚🌌˚..✭°🌔🌜・ .゜🪐 ˚

I'm also running my side-blog @thegeorgiatennantblog (check in for pure Georgia Tennant awesomeness) and I am a co-admin with The Marvellous @notnov8or for @fightingalgth8rs

I also write a bit sometimes. I'm working on two Original Fiction pieces of mine and a Good omens fic as well as a Rivals (2024) fic if anyone wants to read ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯.......more about my work under cut:

Summary:

Something happened in Little River 25 years ago. Nothing has been the same ever since. For years the town has tried to bury the memory of the horror. But when bodies start turning up in the town not only do long unburied secrets start turning up but also the harrowing realization that something sinister lurks within Little River DI Sylvia McFarlane has the chance to uncover both the mystery of the case before her and that of her own shadowy past.

Notes:

Thanks to @sakuranova07 on Tumblr who came up with the idea and a LOT of other people who kept egging me, at last BEHOLD, I have written THE detective story casting THE Georgia Tennant as a detective as she investigates crimes in her little hometown tinged with an element of the supernatural. This is an original piece of fiction and the characters are my ocs. The actors have merely been casted for the roles (bcs it is fun, helps visualize the story and also bcs who doesn't wanna see Georgia play a kooky detective).

Warnings:

Graphic Depictions of Violence (I mean it is a murder mystery) Scary scenes with supernatural events No on-screen s3x Off-screen or implied abuse, SA, SH, domestic violence, Transphobia, etc. (Nothing graphic or explicit) Strong Language: A-word, B-word, C-word, D-word, F-word and well basically all of them Not suitable for audiences under 15

A story of love, loss, death, coming of age, and found families. Coming soon. Warnings:

Graphic Depictions of Violence No on-screen s3x Strong Language Drug abuse Domestic Violence (not explicit) Implied Child Abuse Might not be suitable for audiences younger than 15

So that's it for now!

🍭🍬 Sláinte M-fckers! 🍭🍬

[florenceisfalling]

just a disclaimer regarding a recent barrage of false accusations with me bc ive decided im tired of not defending myself

my ex has posted a lot of things, these are the ones i can remember (me looking at her blog is bad for the both of us, so im not going to check if i missed anything)

i did not have sex with anybody else

i also did not kiss anybody else, or anything she could have been implying re: any "risk" of illness

i did not get into an argument with her that led to her hospitalization. when speaking to her other partner (the one she called X), she stated that she JUST had a nightmare.

she did not actually attempt, and was not in any physical danger after a small injury; she went to work the next day and didn't get hospitalized until after she talked to an authority about how she worried she MIGHT hurt herself worse. <- not downplaying what actually happened, it was really tough, but she is lying about it

X did not tell her "some" of the truth. they told her everything, and she agreed for months before now.

i did not quote her "asking [me] to stop cheating" as an "unfair request". i quoted her referring to me as the dehumanizing phrase "public property," which was said to me when i was not doing anything romantic or sexual with other people. this was in a song that spoke of her positively, which she openly admitted to misunderstanding once i explained it to her.

i do not owe her money. i offered some to be helpful while we were still aiming for friendship, and i was begging her not to take anything out on X, but she is now calling my loved ones to try to convince them that i have some actual debt to her. X ALSO doesnt owe her money for the trip, because she promised repeatedly while planning process that they would not have to pay her back if they broke up/things went wrong

i did not post anyone in a romantic context other than her. she was told that i did by someone who tried to convince her to cheat on me last year. additionally, when asked to take down the posts, i did, even though they were my friends just doing school stuff

i also did not plan the road trip the way she talks about it. i wanted to visit her as a priority and also visit at least 5 of my friends as a little buddy trip. this didn't actually happen, i just visited her.

once again reiterating: i did not have sex with anybody other than her

i never called her "clocky," she probably assumed this post (and other posts i made about my self-identified "clocky" transfem friends online, who were experiencing harassment post-p.redstrogen situation) was about her somehow. she is not transfem; trying to make transfem bottom surgery experiences or anything else into "experiences [she] had" is disingenuous. she's a femme woman, i validated and argued for her visible and personal femininity; if i failed in some regards, that is my bad. but telling a trans person in a t4t relationship that they need to "get help" because you used to feel jealous about them uplifting tgirls is just transphobic. acting like its a defense of transfems is even worse. and claiming my love for tgirls is solely a sexual, comptop, anti-surgery thing is especially frustrating when she repeatedly failed to accept that i do top and want a phalloplasty.

i never threatened her, nor did i talk about "gathering information on her." all i said was that, in the same way i could tell when her ex was stalking me, i might see if she was block evading me, on a post that she only could have seen if she was block evading me

i didn't publicly air out my side through that song or through vent posts. i haven't taken down any of my vent posts, you can look through them, many of them had nothing to do with her and all of them avoided details.

i also did not orchestrate a fucking drive-by shooting. i never thought i'd have to clarify this . she also presumably doesn't actually believe i did, since she still texts my roommate pictures of squirrels, which isn't "dealing with accomplices to murder schemes" behavior

i did not pressure X into anything, send her messages about how they weren't compatible, convince them of that, or get between them and her. i was the one trying to convince them to go visit her and make the flight, trying to help her out, but they couldn't because they were literally worried sick.

i wasn't even in a real relationship with her when X was supposed to go on that trip; she wanted to split up and even had my number muted but insisted that i still follow "rules" and call her my fiancee until she was ready to let me go

i did not say she "got owned" and my friends did not behave as a public "echochamber"; none of my friends talked with me about it except in private conversations she had no exposure to

i did not treat her like a sexual object. part of the issue with her false accusations about my sex life is that i was so detached from my sexuality from the entirety of spring break until the end of august that i started identifying as ace for a period. during this time, she yelled at me after i was too busy crying to have sex with her. over the summer i started cutting recreationally, but was careful not to do it in a bad mood to avoid habit-forming; during a serious argument she guilt tripped about how i hadn't yet carved her initials into my thigh before i was ready. she unsafely/improperly tried to choke me without discussing it beforehand, admitting that she looked up the right way a while ago but didn't remember. serious mental health struggles for me were reduced to being obstacles for my sexuality. i cannot emphasize enough how objectifying it feels from my end to have a semester of incredibly tough friendship situations boiled down to "oh you must be having sex with other people," followed by constant sexual bids for connection to fix the relationship that often failed to respect notions of enthusiastic consent.

all of the things i did do, are by her own definition, not sex, were equivalent to what she did with her own friends during our relationship, and went completely unaddressed by her anyway, so i am not even going to bother defending myself on those when she'd rather make up new accusations baselessly

in the imaginary world where i did have sex with other people, that does not excuse the cornering me by regularly threatening suicide, the belittling me for not "centering" her on two separate occasions where my friends DID attempt suicide and i was called for help (during one of these situations she vent posted about me not talking to her while i was literally writing statements ordered by campus police), the vivid descriptions to my face of how badly she wanted to physically hurt me and my loved ones, the direct ableism as well as vitriol and unwanted sexual comments towards my alters, the biphobia and transmisogyny rampant in claiming my love for transfems has anything to do with "girlcock," her telling me to my face that me giving her less attention again would be "worse" to her than me dying gruesomely, the sexual harassment she now is doing in the form of posting details and lies about my sex life to her public blogs as revenge, and so on.

lastly, any claims that she has to post publicly to get my attention aren't true. she does still contact me. she unblocked me to send and unsend me messages before.

i'm glad she's trying to live a more fulfilling life now, and i am too; im in therapy, in better communication with family, etc. but things are way out of hand and i cannot keep prioritizing her peace over mine when i am not hers anymore.

this is NOT a callout post, i do not want this to circulate, i do not want anyone to contact her, i want people to have a disclaimer on ME before making assumptions so here it is. anyone i see adding her name to this post, spreading it, sharing it with her, etc is getting blocked immediately. this doesn't even scratch the surface of what went wrong or what happened throughout our relationship, but it at least addresses the immediate accusations. this post is not directed at her, its directed at people who approach me about her, and i have no interest in arguing with her anymore- i want her to be able to move on and be happy, very, very far away from me.

[atinyniki]

Okay, so, since your beloved anon apparently knows so much about our relationship but doesn't give enough fucks to check my blog I'll send you an ask instead. Niki and I talk daily, sometimes more sometimes less as surprise we both have our own lives to deal with and tbh mine has been a mess lately so if anyone's to blame for the lack of “pda” it's me😐 I love interacting with my mooties on here but I'll stop if all it does is making some of you gossip and go wild like we're some celebrities dating, chill tf out pls.

And about Kylei…I promised myself to keep my mouth shut bc I don't want to drag someone through shit on here so I'll be as vague as possible. It's okay if you miss her but don't blame any of us for her leaving. I haven't heard from her in three months after addressing my issue with sudden disappearances and ignoring to which I was promised it wouldn't happen again combined with all sorts of endearing terms only like two weeks prior. Repeatedly. I won't go into detail about Zehina or Niki because I'm not that type of an asshole but damn.

Things didn't end well between all of us and the fact that we were all hurt but stayed and only one person didn't, should make you think. Yes, you were right before, there are fics about what happened on my blog bc I tried to work through some old shit that came up with it again, which she knew about btw and still went on and did the same in lesser forms.

Nevertheless, if you know me and what I need so well you should start thinking about who really hurt me and who's still by my side, making me smile every damn day when I don't feel like it.

Sincerely, get a life and stop messing with ours we'd love to catch a break some time :)))

this. again, you do not know abt anything that happens behind the scenes. go ask kylei what happened instead of berating us.

[liberty-barnes]

okay okay but i just need to mention one little thing:

fan site dynamics work like this: twitter reacts first, usually dramatically, thinks later. tumblr thinks first, analyses to see exactly what we're working with here, puts it in perspective with their YEARS of experience in this fandom, then reacts.

therefore if you're coming here from twitter, you should have that in mind, as well as keep in mind a few guidelines that worked great for me as someone who lurked around fandom since 2013 and only got REALLY involved in quarantine:

1) RESEARCH PEOPLE RESEARCH. i don't care if you've been part of fandom on twitter for five years, tumblr has so much more information. on absolutely everything. and it all comes back pretty frequently in some way or another. so, to avoid making the Knowledgeable Veteran Larries want to smash their heads into a wall at every "wait what happened in xxx?" message they get even though they've discussed it 1000 times already, just do your research. @larrytimelines has, as you guessed it, timelines for shit that happened over the years so that may be a good start. otherwise, @daisiesonafield-blog has a very well organised blog (how, i don't know, lowkey suspect she's a witch) so just look through her many useful tags for larry resources and you should be good to go for a nice long while.

2) don't come here thinking you know better than the people that have been around for 10 years. that's the main one. it's as simple as that. these people have lived through the worst stunts, they've seen it all, they know what they're talking about. they know better.

3) if you're gonna be ageist you can fuck off. i've lost count of how many people on twitter have said that after 25, you shouldn't be a part of fandom anymore. you do not lose your interests as you get older. if i see you being ageist anywhere in my or others' blogs consider yourself blocked because i do not have the mental stability to handle idiotic children (and i promise you that it's possible to not be asshole to people older than you. at 19 i'm a baby larrie here and i get along with the veterans just fine so you can do it too, it's really not that hard to be respectful)

4) don't be a dick. don't judge people for liking or doing things that you wouldn't like or do. most recent example is the hs3 leak. don't wanna listen? don't. blacklist the HS3 LEAK and HS3 SPOILER tags and just get on with your life. do not be a dick to people who choose to listen to it.

5) before sending an ask to a blog asking about something, scroll for a bit to check if they haven't answered that question already. or check their blog for key words related to that subject. AND DON'T USE PEOPLE'S ASK BOXES AS GOOGLE SERIOUSLY IT'S ANNOYING WE'RE NOT GONNA FEED YOU EASY-ACCESS INFORMATION ON A SILVER PLATTER YOU CAN GET UP AND GO GET IT YOURSELF (that one is particularly annoying to watch so i can only imagine how it feels to get them) (I just make one tiny distinction: if you've genuinely tried looking for the information on Google, on other blogs, etc. then it's okay to ask for help, or to ask if they have any tips on how to better find the information you're looking for, I just get really pissed when people ask things without even trying to find the information themselves.)

6) go look at just general tumblr do's and don'ts. take the time to do it. tumblr is not twitter we do not work the same way and i don't want my beloved hellsite to get like twitter, as fun as it is at times.

and that's about all i have for you at 8.30am, feel free to add some more if you have anything else in mind, dm me or send me an ask if you want more information on why twitter and tumblr are different as someone who's in both

-Love, Miah🤍

[madaboutmunson]

Creep - Part 7 of 12 - Fever

Part 6 link: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/madaboutmunson/687491178985357312?source=share

The drive home is pretty much auto-pilot, except that you absolutely cannot wipe the enormous smile from your face this time. It almost hurts. You replay what just happened, over and over, in your head and feel like the luckiest person on the planet. It was unbelievable this was happening to you. Finally, the wheel of fortune had spun in your favour, and though the cynical voice in your head continually tries to bring you down to reality, Eddie Munson's actions and words are so much louder than it could ever be right now. So it's cloud nine all the way home.

Pulling up in the driveway, you rush into the house, almost slamming the door open. Your parents had been quietly sitting in their respective armchairs with the tv on, doing their individual hobbies, Dad the paper, mom crocheting. Your explosive entrance makes them both drop what they are doing.

"Are you feeling ok, honey?" your Mom asks. The concern in her voice is very present. She's looking over to your Dad for reassurance, but he just shrugs. They half smile at one another.

"Oh, god, Yes! I've had the best time. We played this game--" you begin rambling. Your Mom winces at your enthusiastic blasphemy but looks amused.

"A game? Do you mean a board game or like a sport?" You Mom enquires.

You shake your hands in front of you as if rustling away her questions, so you can continue the story.

"Well, yes, but also, neither really, but maybe closer to a board game, but not" you try to explain.

Your Mom looks utterly confused. Your Dad is leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, his chin resting on his hands, watching you lovingly as you pace around the room rapidly, trying to remember each and every detail of the game. Trying to retell it with enough passion and physicality that they would potentially be excited about it too.

You Mom looks at you with an expression you haven't seen for a long time, maybe even years. She seems glad, proud almost, not pity, not turning away as soon as possible.

"So, are you planning on going again?"

"Oh, for sure, well, if that's ok with you both. I mean, they already voted that I could come back, but I wanted to check with you first because..." you slow right down. For the first time in about forty minutes, since you started your whirlwind, one-person re-enactment of the game session, you sit down, like the wind had dropped out of your sails, "...because we said, no secrets, right?"

Your brain flashes back to waking up in the hospital ward, blinking into existence, your Mom and Dad at the side of your bed. Callaghan running out of the door in slow motion yelling for a doctor.

You remember looking all around you, dirt, blood, tubes, wires. You looked your Mom directly in her eyes and let out an ear-splitting scream of terror. They both had instinctively flanked you and held onto you tightly as the tears flooded down your face and clouded your vision, punctuated by cries of anguish and, of course, yelling out for Connie.

Hopper bursts through the doors, and your Dad, in vain, tries to keep him at bay. It's only when your mother forces her way between you and Hopper that he throws his hands in the air and leaves. Doctors and nurses push past him, and your brain throws you forward in time to being left sitting at the table after Hopper had left your house, unsatisfied with your answers to his interrogation.

Your Mom and Dad sit on either side of you, their hands on yours as you tremble and shake.

"Honey, look, I know this is scary, and I know you're just a kid, but this is really serious. If you remember anything, anything at all, you have to tell Hopper, or at very least tell us, ok. We promise no judgements from us. We love you and always will. But, most importantly, Connie needs your help right now."

You look at their faces, "I swear, I-I-I swear on my life. I don't remember. I told Hopper everything I could remember. I wouldn't hide anything if it meant Connie was in danger." You let go of their hands to bring your hands to your face, searching your brain for anything, the slightest clue, but there was nothing.

Your Dad looks worriedly at your Mom, then back at you and grabs your hand back into both of his.

Flash forward, months later, your Mom is holding a pot of pills in her hand, pacing back and forth and yelling at someone down the phone. Your face hurts from the bruises. You can barely see out of one eye. Your Dad bursts through the door. He drops everything and runs over without even taking off his hat or coat. He hurriedly feels over your face, and you wince at his touch. He covers his mouth with his other hand and looks over at your Mom. She only sighs in response and starts yelling down the phone again.

Your Dad grabs you by your shoulders, "We can't keep doing this, honey, ok? No more secrets, alright? You need to tell us where you are going, always, and especially who you are with, alright? Do you hear me? Those bastards" he was trying to sound his most gentle but you could hear the slight anger in his voice. You knew it wasn't aimed at you.

You nod your head weakly, searing pain from the back of your neck down your spine, "No more secrets.... I promise," you manage. He envelops you into his massive arms and falls apart.

Flashforward at warp speed to the present, "...no secrets, right?"

Your Dad and Mom look at one another for a while, communicating silently in the way that only two people, who have spent every day with one another for decades, possibly could, "Ok, but there have to be conditions..." your Dad starts.

You are immediately back in ecstatic mode. Your Mom gets up from her chair, you can't tell if she is annoyed or not, but she doesn't contradict your Dad. She just says, "Well, I'm off to bed. See you both in the morning."

Your Dad seems to wait until your Mom is out of earshot upstairs. He playfully narrows his eyes at you and leans back in his recliner, "Soooo, conditions yes, I'm gonna need their names, especially the one you mentioned a few hundred times...." he pretends to be wracking his brain for it.

"Eddie!" you interject immediately. Straight away, you know you gave it away. Your hands pressed tightly together with the massive grin on your face and the deep breath after you said his name. Then, like a robot, your Dad scans you over rapidly with his eyes.

He leaps up from his chair with excitement and points a finger at you, "Ah HA! I knew it! I knew it when you walked in here. There is a boy!"

Your eyes go wide with embarrassment. It's easy to forget sometimes that your father is an excellent salesman, and part of that is reading people.

"How did you-. You know what? Ok yeah." You throw your hands in defeat and look a little sheepish.

You knew that this wasn't a typical father-to-child conversation, but you didn't have a regular relationship with him. But, after Connie disappeared, he became your best friend, your only friend, at many times.

"Ok, so, this club is definitely real, and this guy is really something, huh? Hmm, but this situation is like a bundle deal. Ok, let me think." he plops back into his seat and drums his fingers on the arm, "Ok, number 1, where and when is this club. Number 2, the attendants. Number 3, I meet this...Eddie"

Your eyes widen at the ground in horror. Eddie's look and extracurricular activities had never really troubled you, but you weren't sure it would sit well with your folks.

Your Dad rubs his hands together in boyish glee. He loves a mystery, "No, no, no, don't tell me. Let me guess." Your Dad gets up again and starts pacing the room, every now and then turning back to you with a word or phrase to see if it describes Eddie,

"Hmmm, let's see what would you be most worried about...The way you described him, he sounds kind and interesting, soooooo it's not necessarily his personality that is the problem, which in all fairness, makes things look pretty good for Eddie so far. He's probably not one of those asshole Jocks. In that case, my dear Watson, it must be appearance...Tattoos?"

"Yeah, a few, I think", you say nervously

.

"Ok, ok, well, it's just art at the end of the day. They can't be anything too offensive. Otherwise, that wouldn't match up with the personality description. Long hair?"

"Yeah"

"Smoker?"

"Yep"

"Drugs?"

"Nothing extreme, I don't think."

"My goodness, things are not looking good for our friend Eddie at the moment.....unless", he trails off and scratches his chin, "Part of the counterculture?"

"I mean, I guess the whole heavy metal music scene could be seen that way?"

This piques your Dad's interest, "A musician, eh?"

You look hopefully at your Dad's face. He sits back in his chair and reaches for your hand, which you take gently. As he turns around to face you, he says, "Did I ever tell you about the '60s? You know I wasn't always the sharp-dressed businessman you see today. I, too, was once a kid, exploring my identity and everything the world had to offer." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, you are so embarrassed, but it is also way too funny,

"Then, one day, I was queueing for a gig, and the most beautiful angel walked past me. I left that queue and never looked back. Your Mom soon whipped me into shape," he chuckles.

You laugh along with him, feeling a little more relaxed, "I don't think I really want to change anything about him. In all honesty, Dad, he's just, you know, great as he is."

Your Dad looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "You got it that bad? How long have you known this guy?"

"How long have I been speaking to him, or how long have I known who he is?" You need the clarity here.

"Oh geez, I'm gonna regret this, aren't I? Ok, let's go with being on speaking terms."

"A few days...." you say meekly

.

"A FEW DAYS!! Who is this guy? Cary Grant?" he chuckles to himself, "I'm sorry, honey, I just thought this had been going on for some time or something."

"No secrets", You reply. He proudly nods at you.

"No Secrets", he repeats, "So anything else you wanna tell me about this situation."

"Well, I was thinking about hanging out around his place tomorrow night." Your Dad's fluffy eyebrows shoot up with surprise. They might have shot clear off his face if they had done so with any more momentum. "You know I won't do anything stupid, Dad", You reassure him.

He looks a little uncomfortable about it, but he just sighs and says, "I'm just glad to see this again. Like actual, impossible to contain, joy, and I guess if I have to put up with some little stoner for a few hours to see this again, I suppose I can endure it."

You leap up and give him a great big hug, planting several kisses on his grizzly cheek, "Alright, alright, geez" he play pushes you away.

You grab your bag and run up the stairs. He calls after you, "And just where are you running off to now?"

"To call Eddie!" you bellow back down the stairs.

You charge into your room and throw the contents of your bag onto the bed, frantically searching for the character sheet. Score you find it, you grab it and army roll over the other side of your bed, grab your phone and dial the number. You nervously drum your fingers on the bedside table your phone rest on. You let it keep ringing. You really need to ask him about tomorrow right now. I mean, you could tell him in the morning, but that was really last minute. Even though this was very last minute, wheels were in motion, and you didn't want the games of how you are supposed to approach a relationship to get in the way.

"Jesus H Christ, HELLO!" an angry goblin-like voice comes over the line.

You feel like slamming the phone back down in alarm, but you persist,

"...um...hi? It's me," you say meekly.

"Oh....fuck...sorry...I wasn't expecting...." His fiery tone immediately extinguished, "Hi you" you can hear his smile down the phone as his voice smooths to silk, "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything is fine....well, kind of...I just" you hear a slight cough on the line, "Eddie, did you just cough?"

"What do you mean, kind of? Where are you? Do you need me to come to get you? No, that was you, right?"

"No, no, everything is fine. Just wait one sec, ok?" You jump over the other side of your bed, yank open the door, and bellow down the stairs, "A LITTLE PRIVACY, PLEASE!"

"Ok, ok", your Dad replies, "Excuse me for wanting to hear his dulcet tones" you hear the phone click back on the holder downstairs and do a little run back to your handset.

"Who was that guy?" Eddie demands

"My Dad." You reply nonchalantly.

"Your Dad?"

"Yes, yes, listen, ok, are your free tomorrow, like, early evening?" you curl the twisty phone wire around your fingers in anticipation.

"Yeah, I mean, I asked you, right?" he says, perplexed.

"Ok, well, I know this is gonna seem kinda lame, but I have to ask permission about these kinda things, and well, I can hang out tomorrow, but there is a small condition from my Dad. He wants to meet you first."

The phone line goes to dead air, you wait a few seconds for a reply, but nothing comes.

"Eddie? Eddie?! Are you still there?" your heart sinks. Reasonably this was the exact definition of too much, right? Meeting parents is way, way, way down the line. It's only then you realise you are holding your breath.

"Er...yeah...I'm still here...I just had to pick myself up off the floor...you want me to meet your parents already? My god!" he's laughing. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Great, great, great. What's your address? I'll come pick you up tomorrow, ok?"

"I can just drive to yours" there is a moment of knowing silence between you.

"Eddie, no offence, but let them just deal with you first before they have to also accept the van and the way you drive it, ok?"

"Hey now, don't be mean to her and anyway, what's wrong with my driving? I'll have you know I'm great at it." he pretends to be offended.

"Besides...., if I pick you up, I also have to take you back home, right?" you try to drop a hint in your voice as hard as you can muster.

"Oh...I see....ok well, tomorrow, after practice, around five?"

"Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it. I owe you one."

"Just one?" you can hear him pout over the phone.

"Goodnight, Eddie!" You laugh, shaking your head

"Goodnight" You place down the receiver gently and fall back onto your bed like a scarecrow, looking at the ceiling, smiling broadly.

"Tones were that good, were they? Sorry I missed out," Your Dad chuckles as he peeks around the door. "I mean, I caught the very first bit and was a little confused, but then I mean...WOW!" He acts out, fluttering his eyelashes and twirling around with his hands on his heart. You realise you'd totally forgotten to close the door, he'd basically heard everything, or at least you expect he did.

"Get outta here!" You shout whilst chuckling to yourself, throwing the nearest stuffed animal at him.

He shields by closing the door before it makes it outside.

You look back up at the ceiling. Your sides and face hurt from laughing and smiling so much today. You wonder if this is how everyone feels or if it was just because you were so out of practice.

You reach into the bedside table for your sleeping tablets and swallow two while getting ready for bed and tidying everything back in your bag. Finally, you flop back down on your bed and get ready for the sweet embrace of sleep with a huge smile on your face.

The standard set of images fire up for the dream section of sleep, Party......ripples.....lights.... sirens..... blanket... but this time, something extra, hooded figures looming over you, talking with one another.

What are they saying? You can't make it out. They're laughing now.

You wake up in a cold sweat, unsure if this was a recollection or just your brain sticking all different events together. You take a sip of water from your bedside table and attempt to get a bit more sleep.

[littlefireofhestia]

hi! i'm sage and i was going through the "hestia devotee" tag and found a post of yours that said you were open for questions about her. i don't know how old that post is or if you're still taking questions, you can ignore this if you're not, but since i'm here i wanted to talk/ask about something.

i'm a baby witch (like the babiest of babies, almost a new born) and most of my experience is through reading and watching since i don't currently have time or resources to do any practice other than lighting incenses or candles or working with crystals. and i definitely don't know any form of divination, like tarot or pendulum, that would allow me to do actual deity work and properly communicate with them.

the thing is, i've researched deities from multiple pantheons multiple times, mostly out of curiosity, but the moment i came across a prayer to hestia my heart skipped a beat and i immediately felt a kind of comfort. it could have been nothing, but i still researched all i could about her and just. i've never felt this drawn to a deity before, much less felt a pull to actually worship one. but i feel very much that way about her.

i looked up ways to honour her and i'm genuinely shocked at how happy it's been making me. i'm finding joy in domestic activities i used to loathe, like washing the dishes or helping with house cleaning. i tried baking a cake all by myself for the first time and lit an orange candle for her while doing it. it turned out absolutely delicious, i discovered i actually really enjoy baking and even started my own cook notebook with some of my grandma's old recipes. i make a point to always tie my hair back when i'm doing something that makes me think of her or in her honour, like making tea or baking or making dinner for my family or cleaning, because i saw people talking about how she appreciates veiling but i don't know how to do it so i just tie my hair in a bun instead of putting on a scarf. and i used to hate tying my hair, but now i feel very good about it!

i've always struggled with feeling connected to religion and never really understood how that could bring peace to someone, but i haven't felt this grounded or loving towards my family and pets or in peace with myself as much as i have since i started doing things as acts of devotion to hestia.

now, on to the actual problem: i'm scared it's all in my head. i'm worried i'm not enough of a witch to worship a deity yet, since i'm still trying to learn ways of communication and can't directly ask her if she's with me. i'm scared that the little things i'm doing aren't enough and the comfort and faith i feel while doing them are my imagination and not actually her watching over me and appreciating my effort.

anyways, i'm really sorry for dumping these worries on you but i didn't see many hestia related blogs and i really needed to ask someone about this. is what i'm doing enough of a worship right now? do you have any tips on how to worship her better? thank you!

Hi Sage! I don’t know when you sent this ask so I’m sorry if it’s been a while since you sent it and my response is late. When I read this ask for the first time I nearly cried tears of joy. Before anything I do want to say that you’re doing amazing sweetie!

I’m always open to questions about Hestia.

First off, there is no prerequisite to worshipping deities. I am admittedly not a witch and worship the gods exclusively for religious reasons and not for witchcraft. I have not learned many divination methods yet (although I have used the very handy Greek Alphabet Oracle a few times) and my rituals are still relatively basic, mostly not even occurring on an altar. But I have felt Hestia. I have been in her presence. I have received dreams from other deities and signs. None of this is required to happen to believe in or worship the theoi, but I just want to assure you that beyond doing some research to figure out who you want to pray to and how to do prayer and ritual, there are no prerequisites to worship. My first prayer to Hestia was literally me throwing a scarf over my head and talking to her in the dark with a flashlight to represent a flame. No formal structure. Didn’t even know how to correctly hold my hands yet. And still she accepted me.

The vibe you get from Hestia is very much similar to my experience. I’ve been drawn to her for YEARS but didn’t know I could worship her. But she’s always felt like home and comfort and just right for me. I never ever had a reason why she was my favorite deity before becoming pagan. She just was. My connection to Hestia has been a fact for over a decade that I just didn’t know was religious until a year and a half ago. Me wondering if I could worship her is the reason why I started researching Hellenic Polytheism in the first place. She brought me to this faith and I am so thankful to her for that.

You finding joy in domestic activities you used to hate is something I’ve discovered through Hestia too, although it’s still a journey I’m early on due to depression and physical disability and having a lot of work to do on figuring out how to make things accessible for me. I’m excited to go further for and with Hestia.

I understand the thought about it being all in your head. I had those thoughts early in my practice too. Basically, belief is a process. It takes time to switch from whatever religious thought (or lack thereof) that you grew up with to polytheism and worshipping a variety of deities or even just one deity, and from there to truly believing in them. I’ve been practicing for a year and a half and it probably took me at least nine months to truly feel secure in my faith in the theoi. Research, pray, do ritual, devote acts to the gods, think about the gods, notice the influence of the theoi in your daily life, and gradually that belief will solidify. You may or may not receive signs, which may or may not speed this process up. I promise, if you want to believe in the gods, in Hestia, it just takes time.

Also on feeling that you aren’t doing enough, the video at the bottom of this post (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odhRRYqQo8Y) might help. And I promise: you are doing enough, you are enough, just as you are.

Now as for worship tips. You are honestly doing great so far. Thinking of her while doing household chores and tasks or dedicating those tasks for her is a great way to worship her. I’d also recommend checking out her Homeric and Orphic hymns, one translation of which can be found here, and a copy of the Homeric hymns can likely be found at a local bookstore or definitely through online ordering. The Homeric hymns can also start to teach you some stuff about prayer structure, but prayer doesn’t have to be formal. Sometimes I just sit and talk to Hestia, or to any of my other deities. Tell them about my day, thank them for things in my life or the world, and sometimes asking them for things (although I find that I ask for aid much more rarely than when I prayed as the Catholic I was raised to be). I also have perpetually in progress playlists I have made for my deities, and if I want to spend some non-ritual time just focusing on a deity I’ll put on their playlist and read something religious or talk in religious discords. I actually had my most profound spiritual experience with Hestia while doing this.

Last but not least, worshipping Hestia, or any other deity, is something you have your whole life ahead of you to do. Take it at your own pace. Faith is all about the journey. The destination is irrelevant. There is no deadline or leveling up system, no authority checking your progress. As I have experienced time and time again, the gods will very much meet you where you are. A few months ago I was in a deep depression and did not do any ritual for several months. When I finally did a ritual again, I felt Hestia’s warm hand on my shoulder, as if to say “I miss you, welcome home”. I promise, Hestia will always welcome you home.

P.S. I know this ask is anonymous but Sage, feel free to message me with any additional questions about Hestia or worshipping deities in general. I’m here if you need any more help.

[cutekittenlady]

Cutekittenlady's Hamefura Ship Chart

Blanked out the characters I'm not quite as familiar with since they show up in some light novels I still haven't gotten around to reading.

Made using the template @sapphireshineauthor made over on her blog! You can find it HERE

Lol the lines get pretty confusing so here are the images broken down by color with small explanations.

First and easiest to go over is probably my limited selections of OTPs which largely consists of GeoKata and AlaMary along with Nicol/Fray, Ian/Selena, and Geoffrey/Suzanna. The first three are all ships I think are quite cute (Nicol and Fray only got one episode together but wow was it a damn good episode) and the last two are, lets be frank, outright canon or otherwise set to sail any day now. (Feel free to argue with me on the Geoffrey/Suzanna boat but, cmon, theyre just too good for each other)

sNext up is "Likes" since its next down the list so might as well keep up the chronological order. I chose to view "likes" as any ship I'd probably enjoy reading fanfic or seeing fanart of, but I'm not super compelled on. Like, the stuff that if I cam across it in the tag on tumblr or AO3 I'd probably check out but not actively seek out most of the time.

You'll likely notice a distinct lack of yuri on this train, and sadly, I think the yuri train for this series just passed me by. I think the girls feelings for Kat are very sweet and the series handles it decently well for the most part (yes even the light novel though folks seem inclined to feel otherwise), but they just don't personally compel me like some of the others do.

What you *will* notice on the other hand are plenty of m/m ships on here. And I will make no explanations or excuses for the very clear double standard between the m/m and w/w rep on my ship chart.

Look its not my fault they filled the series with pretty boys with problems who I wouldn't mind seeing hold hands or mac out, aight?

And finally the big one;

Can you tell I prefer Gen Fic yet? lol

I actually had to cut down this selection quite a bit because Katarina is a friend making MACHINE. So I ended up trying to think who her bff/unofficial siblings were. Mind, I see her and Alan's relationship as pretty sibling like too, but by the time I was done with this mess the whole thing was getting pretty sloppy XD

So I tried to include only the ones that I thought might not be obvious/relevant.

So, yeah, that's my ship chart. I haven't deep dived into WHY I ship/don't ship certain characters together, but if you ever get intensely curious then feel free to shoot me an ask! I can't promise I'll jump on it right away, but I'll make an attempt to gush about the stuff I like.

Thank you, and good night!

[tockthegnome]

(Finally getting to post some character building stuff on this blog, a promised!)

This counts for Sunday Gnomedays on my main site @rachelillustrates too, BUT I'm featuring it here because it was drawn with specific playlist-context in mind.

Full "Tock the Gnome" inspiration playlist notes here. Listen here 🖤

The songs in thought right now, though, are "Ready For It" and "Sparks Fly," both by Taylor Swift.

**These notes are for inspiration purposes only. No direct affiliation with Taylor Swift or her music is intended.**

So, starting with "Ready For It" -

I originally put it on the playlist with Onna in mind, since it seemed about someone being really sure about an attraction and being willing to wait.

BUT.

Upon more than a few more re-listens, I've realized it's about Tock herself. About that part of her that feels pulled to Onna immediately, and that willingness to wait. That surety.

The "killer" lyrics it starts with call to her being attracted to the "danger" Onna represents, immediately (though I feel like the song didn't mean that literally, that's how it resonates, sooooo...). Nodding to the "dangerous" nature assumed of Orcs in all most fantasy media, there, too.

"Younger than my exes but he act like such a man, so" - Onna is younger than anyone she's ever tried to love, since Orcs are much less long-lived than Gnomes. Taking that tongue-in-cheek.

The "island breeze" lyric speaks to the island of the Quest's driving legend, of course! AND following that thought, for the idea that Onna is, spiritually, the 'princess' she's seeking, especially if the Lowlands are already "like" that specific island.

"Me, I was a robber first time that he saw me / Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry / But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist / And we'll move to an island-and / And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor / Every lover known in comparison is a failure / I forget their names now, I'm so very tame now / Never be the same now, now" - Exactly how she was with other courtships before, until her ex Lorna (since Lorna did that TO her, then she stopped, and has considered herself guilty still in this respect ever since then). This is not to say that she meant to play people - far from it, she just falls in love super, super easily. And in writing these notes, part of me feels an echo of Jane/Rochester of "Jane Eyre" there - not that there's a "wild person" who needs to be tamed by a "chaste" one, but that there's something scattered and panicked and untethered within Tock (like Rochester) that longs, of her own volition, to be met on a more even level (like Jane does with Rochester, though that's cloaked in the tropes I've already mentioned. I could write a whole other post on Jane Eyre inspiration, so I'll stop there!). Plus, these words invite "him" to come on the "heist," and Tock has no intentions of totally settling down after this. She may think she'll find the Princess and go home to normal life, but adventure is in her nature and her future, and Onna will always follow her in that. So there's something there, I'm just not quite sure what it is yet.... absolutely more on that in the future.

AND the "games" lyrics speak to her playful nature about it. Like this sleeping part of her will test Onna, to see if it's true.

Now, on the other hand, "Sparks Fly" and Onna's perspective -

I originally put this on the playlist for the idea of falling in love, as much as they didn't mean to, in general. But if "Ready For It" is about Tock, this is clearly about Onna, almost in return.

Not that Tock has the "green eyes" mentioned in the chorus, but everything else just feels like the moment she meets her (and the rest of that afternoon).

And particularly, in regards to her romantic future:

"You touch me once and it's really something / You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be" - Of course, about her awareness of Tock's intentions with the theoretical Princess of the Quest.

"I'm on my guard for the rest of the world / But with you I know it's no good" - As I mentioned in her character-building information last week, Onna is usually awkward and very guarded around everyone, both new people and most people she already knows. But Tock has opened her up from the very first moment. And there are reasons for that - we'll be getting to them, soon.

"And I could wait patiently but / I really wish you would / Drop everything now..." - We're gonna get into this soon, but even in the face of Tock's hesitance (because of the idea of the Princess), Onna is sure already. She's not going to hesitate, except to figure out the best way to start following her heart, what is the right thing to do in pursuing someone of such a different culture. Orcish courtship and marriage is a LOT more direct than Gnomes,' which she knows vaguely about due to certain life experiences I can't reveal yet.

So she will have to take some time, coming up in the most current scene, to future that out before she moves forward. But it will be just a moment. Her course is already set ❤

Hope you enjoyed this breakdown of some of the inspiration for this queer Faerie love story! If you haven't checked it out yet, you can read it anytime here.

[spooniemumoftwo]

This is me!

Have you ever heard of ME CFS? Do you know anyone with ME CFS? Have you ever heard the phrase ‘counting spoons’? 

Having read a huge number of blog posts on ME CFS over the past few years, this is my own answer to some of these questions. Please bear with me – this has been a work in progress for a while now.

Me – Could I have M.E?

As a teenager, and even recently, I never imagined that I would find myself writing about my experiences of life with a chronic illness, and yet, here I am. I am 33 years of age, a wife and mother to two beautiful children, and I have a diagnosis of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME CFS). 

Over the past few years, I have come to realise that ME CFS is something you can’t fully understand or describe to someone unless you have the experience of this debilitating illness yourself.

Where do I start?

Over the last three years, there have been ups and downs; life has been interesting, and the learning curve I have found myself travelling on has been almost vertical at times. I am not there yet.

Back in Summer 2017, I woke one morning to find I had no voice at all. This was unusual for me but not the first time it had happened. Things had been busy and a little fraught with two small children, whilst I was also working almost full time, so I thought nothing of it. I now suspect, as do the consultants I have spoken to since, that this was my body’s way of fighting the Chicken Pox virus, as my youngest came down with Chicken Pox two weeks after I first lost my voice. A week without my voice went by, writing notes for my husband to ignore as he felt appropriate, and giving my children 'the look' instead of telling them what I was thinking, and I spoke to my GP who diagnosed me with Acute Viral Laryngitis, and prescribed me three weeks off work and TOTAL voice rest, much to my husband’s delight and amusement. Three weeks later I returned to work, having slept all day for at least two of the three weeks I’d had off work. I was shattered. I never imagined returning to work after only three weeks off would be that tiring, but I did it. I underwent a further six months of speech and language therapy sessions (ironic considering my own role as a speech and language therapist) to help me work on my returning voice and my worryingly limited breath support, something I had only noticed since losing my voice.

Nearly twelve months on, in April 2018, I found myself signed off work again, this time with suspected Labyrinthitis. I experienced dizziness on and off, and again, I slept for most of the time I was off work. I was finding it hard to put sentences together, and felt like my whole body was being held down by a weighted blanket. Three weeks off work again and then I returned to work and my usual routine, with a promise to myself to take things easier this time. The dizziness continued but not enough for me to be off work, so a referral to a cardiologist followed to check it was nothing cardiology related. A 24 hour ECG followed by a 32 day ECG test demonstrated nothing significant, and therefore this was put down as yet another symptom I had no answers or reasons for.

By August 2018, I realised I had spent the majority of the summer term in schools telling myself ‘if I can make it to the summer holidays, I will be okay’ and yet, there I was, at the start of the summer holidays, and I hadn’t allowed myself to slow down at all. I have always, even as a pre-teen and a teenager, worked towards the school holidays, and continue to do so as an adult. I recall, as a teenager, regularly sleeping for the first one or two days of a school holiday, or suffering with a cold and feeling generally unwell for the first few days after allowing myself to slow down or to relax, and yet, here I was, putting the same pressure on myself as I always had. This time, however, I did not allow myself to rest. I knew what would happen if I did.

August 2018 saw me celebrating my own mini achievements regarding my engagement in a Couch to 5K running programme. I have never been sporty, and running was my least favourite exercise. However, for some reason, in 2018, I decided I was going to make myself enjoy running! I soon found running gave me time to myself with my thoughts, (unless accompanied by one of my chatty little people who often wanted to go with Mummy on a run) and running was my 'me time'. I managed to complete my first ever continuous 20 minute run in the middle of August, a very small achievement for many, however for me this was huge! I was becoming a runner, or so I thought. I only ran once more that month, and haven't managed a run since…

The summer holidays passed by and at the end of August, we celebrated my eldest child’s 5th birthday. I will never forget the call we received first thing that morning, to tell us that my grandfather had sadly passed away in the early hours of the morning.  On my daughter’s birthday. I held myself together and threw all of my energy into celebrating my daughter’s special day. I was heart broken, and yet, as always, my children came first, and always will. The day after, we hosted a party for our daughter as we had planned. I could think of any number of places I would rather be, than hosting a children’s party, but for my children, ensuring they were happy, and maintaining the usual normality, especially things they had looked forward to, was essential. After we had cleared up, and the children had been put to bed, revelling in the excitement of the day, I took myself off to the gym, and pushed myself to run as far as I could.  I managed a 35 minute continuous run, telling myself “it was just for you, Grandad!'’ I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Running had allowed me time to myself to clear my head and my thoughts on many occasions prior to this, however that night, I was broken. I could do no more. My head hurt, my legs hurt, even my breathing was draining me.  I was done.

Two days later, I lost my voice again, and this time, I listened. I listened to what my body was saying, and started to put a few of the pieces together in my story. I have always pushed myself as far as I could push, but I was spent. Emotionally, and physically, I had nothing left. I spoke to my GP in view of my previous significant voice loss, and was instantly told to take some time off work to recharge and rest my voice. I reluctantly agreed to take a week off to recharge before going back to work.

A week later, at the start of September, I saw my GP, accompanied by a very good friend, to make sure I gave the facts and was honest about what was going on. We talked about everything. With the support of my friend, I listed all of the symptoms I had been experiencing, and yet not acknowledged, things I was finding difficult - sensitivities to light and noise, complete physical exhaustion, difficulties concentrating, poor spatial awareness - there can only be so many times a person can walk into the same photocopier in the same position on the same day. (My record was five times one day.) I described the difficulty I had in expressing myself and communicating with others at times, and my concerns about the slightly narcoleptic speed at which I could fall asleep and still feel totally unrested when I woke up, no matter how long I slept for. I raised my concerns and questioned whether I could possibly have some signs of ME CFS, however my GP said that at this stage, she did not feel I had ME, and that there were a huge number of reasons I was feeling as I was at that time. She was right about that, there had been a lot going on. I reluctantly left the doctor’s surgery with a certificate signing me off work for four weeks, and I was under strict instruction to rest completely, and not to return to work within the next four week period. I have never taken time off work willingly, other than for the usual expected absences due to the usual common illnesses, and therefore this went entirely against my work ethic. But this time, I had to - I was spent. I had no idea what was wrong with me, and how long it would last.  I was worried and totally exhausted.

A month later, I returned to my GP to try and persuade her I was ready to return to work. We talked about how the last month had gone, how I was feeling, and what my thoughts about work were. I tried to list the positives to show I was feeling better but what were they? I was sleeping all of the time other than when I had to be awake to do a school run, or to look after my children, which I had been doing mainly from the sofa whilst they amused themselves in my sight. I was finding it difficult to carry out simple and regular tasks such as showering, which left me incapacitated and lay on my bed for some time before I could continue with the day. Cooking and preparing meals were a challenge, as this involved me being upright for longer than was comfortable. Having a conversation on the telephone was exhausting, and yet talking to someone in person was strangely slightly easier. I was often disorientated and a slight change in plans left me confused. On really bad days, I frequently could not have a conversation without losing what I was saying, and found it difficult to think of the words I wanted to say. My mind went blank. None of this made sense. I was 31 years old and generally healthy. What was wrong with me? I sounded like I was making this up and began to doubt myself. My GP informed me that she had been thinking about me, and had spoken to a colleague of hers for some advice. She advised that after some thought, she felt a referral to a specialist in Chronic Fatigue may be worthwhile, as it was possible that some of my symptoms could be signs of ME CFS. That made me anxious. I had suspected that this may be the case for me for a while, but to hear a clinical professional confirm my suspicions and want to investigate further sent chills right through me. How and why was this happening? We agreed that I would be referred to the consultant specialist, and I left the appointment with another four weeks off work, and a hope that I would return to work after another month, IF my energy levels had increased sufficiently.

Another month later, I returned to my GP, and despite me still experiencing significant fatigue, I was desperate to return to work and some normality. My GP reluctantly agreed to a phased return to work which would be monitored closely by her. I returned to work, initially for two half days a week, with a view to being back to my normal thirty hours a week by the end of December. I was still exhausted. Each day was a huge challenge, but it felt so good to be back at work! I tried to take things as easy as possible, as I was mindful that I needed to read the signs and listen to what my body was saying. I didn't feel like the person I was before, and yet just being 'me' again, in my usual workplace was a tonic.

In February 2019, I saw a consultant specialist in chronic fatigue, accompanied by another amazing friend. We talked through everything, literally everything! For a whole two hours, we discussed things I was able to do and things I couldn't do. Things I enjoyed and things I didn't. We talked in detail about my childhood, family history and medical history. I was referred for a sleep study to rule out sleep apnoea, and was advised that if the results of this study were unremarkable, then yes, I would be diagnosed with ME CFS. Otherwise, the diagnosis would be sleep apnoea. I felt sick, but with support from my friend, my husband and my family, we talked things through. But there were still no answers.

I am so lucky to have an amazing family and so many loyal and caring friends around me who know me better than I know myself at times. I can't express my thanks to each and every single person who supports us. Those who are there for me, to listen, advise and give the best hugs, and those fabulous friends who just know what to say and do when its needed. Those who try to understand what's going on, and those who know me best! My amazing family and friends regulate me and aren't afraid to tell me what I need to hear, despite this often being the harsh reality that I can't see (or don't want to!). I am often told to rest and that I need to put myself first, but that's not how I work, or it’s not how I've worked in the past anyway. I know I unintentionally frustrate the people I am closest to with my stubbornness and drive, and my reluctance to 'give in or give up', and I am so grateful for the support of so many people.  

I finally received my appointment for my sleep study at home at the end of May 2019. I was shown how to fit the oxygen tubes, oxygen monitor and all the gubbins that go with it and was sent on my way. Honestly, the sleep study was not the best night of sleep I've ever had...it turns out I'm a little more claustrophobic than I thought I was. But, by the following morning, the test was done and the equipment was safely returned to the hospital. My pending diagnosis was in their hands now. I received a letter at the start of July 2019, to say that I didn't have sleep apnoea, so there it was. A diagnosis of ME CFS.  Mixed emotions flooded me...relief that I wasn't going to have to wear a mask to sleep, and yet dread at reading the words I knew would be in my next letter from the consultant! On 25th July 2019, my letter arrived in the post. It simply said 'I can confirm that this patient has ME CFS. I will refer her to the local ME service for support'.  I was numb. 

So many questions!

How will this affect my children? What will happen next? Where do I stand with work? Will I need help? What does the future hold? All these questions filled my head. Many questions remain unanswered even twelve months on from receiving this letter. With no cure or successful treatment for this, I felt a mixture of panic, sadness and dread and telling my husband the results we didn't want to hear was hard. How would I be able to be the wife and mother I so wanted to be with this chronic illness? My children are still so young. My husband didn't sign up for this! This all felt so unfair!

Since my diagnosis, I've been supported by the local ME CFS service and their advice has been invaluable. The learning we have done as a family about the illness, the symptoms themselves and life as we know it, has been intense. I am able to recognise some of my triggers and my responses, though these constantly change and have increased in severity lately, but my husband, family and close friends will agree that I'm still pretty rubbish at really listening. I cannot seem to take it all in.  I am on overload.  I am a giver naturally...I don't come first in my head. I think of everyone else before myself - my children, my family and my friends. That is just me.  But it wears me out.  

My children

When I was diagnosed with ME CFS, my first thought was not for me, but for my children. This is not how I imagined parenting my own children. I felt a huge sadness that this would mean they had to grow up more quickly, to understand things a young child shouldn't have to, and that we may not be able to do all the lovely things we did when I was a child. I made a promise there and then...ME CFS wasn’t going to stop me doing things with our children. Our promise to our children even then, was that they would come first and that my husband and I would get through this together. This is not my children’s problem, it is mine.

My husband and I agreed very early on, not to give our children the details but just to explain, when needed, that Mummy just needed to rest. This worked for a while and kept questions at bay. I recall one lunchtime when I had prepared a 'picky lunch' at the request of our three-year-old son. I had laid on the sofa while they ate and watched a film. My daughter, aged around five at the time, touched my arm gently and gave me a crisp she had found, saying “Mummy, please have this heart-shaped crisp. It will give you more energy”. Wow!! I'm not sure how I held the tears in...I was completely taken aback! Without telling her anything other than that Mummy was sometimes a bit tired, this little sensitive soul had put two and two together and made her own conclusions. I knew we had to tell her a bit more now, if anything, to make sure she wasn't making her own ‘wrong’ deductions. 

We have recently been introduced to a fabulous book which has been integral in our challenge of giving our children the facts they need whilst not giving them too much. This book, 'Supercharged Superhero' by Gemma Everson has been written to help children understand why a parent with ME may not be able to play all the time, and that they can have fun in different ways with their family. We love this book, and my children often ask if we can look at it again. We've spent many hours reading through the story, chatting about the pictures and thinking of our own ways to have fun which I can join in with too. Find out more about ‘Supercharged Superhero’ and get your own copy of this gorgeous book.

The Journey so far – September 2020

My journey through diagnosis and learning to adapt so far has been uphill. There have been some huge changes I've had to make to my lifestyle, specifically our pace of life and my priorities. Having never been able to say 'no' to anyone or anything in my adult life, my major challenge is to start saying ‘No, no, no!’ Such a simple word, and yet I just can't do it! Others always come before me; my family and my friends, and yet I know I need to work on this. I know I unintentionally drive my husband and close friends to distraction...they know me better than I know myself often, and I am always being told to slow down, or to put me first, but I can't. Only when I have no option otherwise.

I spend my life falling asleep without planning to. I rarely see the end of a television programme or film. As a family, we often plan to go out on adventures in the mornings or early afternoon, as my more unpredictable time of day is usually mid afternoon to early evening. With careful planning, we do go out and make memories as a family of four, and we have lots of fun together. 

Everyday, I spend huge amounts of energy putting a brave face on to hide what I'm really feeling inside. I can’t do this anymore! I feel like most people only see me in a disguise, only my close friends and family know enough to understand what's really going on, and many of them can read me like a book. Conversely, I am constantly told I look really well, when in reality, I can barely stand up some days!  When things are really bad I can't easily hold a conversation, and I often focus all my energy on getting to the end of a day, an hour, a meeting or some other mini target I've set myself. I am wishing time away just to ‘get through’.  My illness is an invisible illness, and it is called that for a reason...it IS invisible!

On paper, my symptoms are fairly mild in contrast with others who have the same diagnosed condition. I am able go to work four days a week still, I am able to take my children to the park or on carefully planned day trips, I can still do some of the things I do for me, to allow me to be 'me', although these ‘things’ for me, are usually the ‘things’ I cut out if I need to slow down - leaving no time for Me!  

The Present and the Immediate Future   

In recent months I have seen a huge flare of my symptoms and have been much more debilitated than previously, but I am hoping this is just a blip in my journey. Working from home and home schooling two young children during the Covid 19 pandemic has not helped.  Life has been a bit mad for us all lately, hasn't it?! I can only imagine how people feel, who have much more significant symptoms, and I try to empathise with those whose symptoms are much more severe than mine. ME CFS is so varied and different for each and every person diagnosed with it!  

ME CFS is not well understood.  As it is ‘invisible’, others do not know I am suffering symptoms that often debilitate me. I cover it well by pretending I am ‘ok’ until I finally crash and burn at home. This is my reason for sharing my story, living with this condition, to promote awareness so that others may benefit from learning about how it affects a person and how people can make allowances. It is not going away!! Maybe I was ‘given’ this condition because I am naturally a strong person who is ‘driven’ to come through everything, no matter what. I do not know. I know that sometimes, I just can’t and I am worn out ‘pretending’. So I have chosen to share this and maybe I can make a difference to someone else. Acknowledging symptoms is just the start. Getting a diagnosis is paramount, and getting the right help is vital for any kind of future.

You've got this far, well done! Look out for how my story unfolds. Until then, we must stay positive!

XxXx

#chronicfatiguesyndrome #chronicfatigue #mecfs #me #myalgicenceohalomyelitis #cfsme

[trying-write-fanfics]

OverhaulXreader part 12

In the morning breakfast was prepared. News was read. The city calmed down since the chaos from the night before. There was still a storm stirring in his head, but at least his environment was calm, almost sterile.

“Good morning.” Y/n yawned coming out of the bedroom. “You don’t sleep ever do you?”

“I’m not one for unproductive activities.”

“If you don’t rest your worst fears will happen.” She pretended to get spooky. “You’ll fall asleep in front of potential investors!”

“You think that’s my worst fear?”

“Well you’re Mr. Serious man all the time. I just figured.”

“Come, eat.”

“Can’t believe I haven’t been here yet.” She said. “I was lucky you were at Pops place when I came.”

“Yeah, you scared some of my men.” He told her.

“Oh please they could have killed me ten times over.” She was rather calm about the statement.

“Are you going to work in that?”

“Sorry, but I like to keep my legs a little more private in the cold.” She said standing up doing a quick pose. “Only you get the privilege right now.”

Was she laying down a ground rule? He didn’t plan on flirting with anyone else, was she? There was no way she would. She wouldn’t do that.

“About last night, what is the…” he didn’t really know what to phrase any question he had.

“I told you let’s take things slow. I do promise I won’t be playing the field.”

“What does that mean?” He asked.

“It’s the expression having multiple people at once to see which one fits best.” She told him.

“I didn’t think you were the type to do that.”

“It’s a common practice today that I haven't tried yet.” She explained. “I know this, I love you, you’re worth it, don’t worry. The beginning is supposed to be butterflies and fun.”

“I don’t know how fun I’ll be.”

“Any time spent with you Kai, is a good time already.” Not too many people would ever say that line. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something.” She pulled a bright colored paper out of her purse. It was an ad for a choir concert “I’ll be in it, if you wanna come that'd be cool, if you can’t you can’t.”

“You’re religious?”

“It was just something to do after work. I gotta have hobbies. It’s a good place to meet friends too.” She explained.

“If you’re bored I could find work for you to do.” He told her.

“You can’t be my only friend Kai. Will you come?” She asked.

“I’ll do my best.” He told her.

Singing?

The league of villains were at it again attacking students. There had to be a reason why they would target twerps. It was utterly aggravating to see these directionless villians be the main characters of the bad side while Kai was working feverishly in the shadows. Drugs were the only thing getting them by, and they were doing it behind Pops’ back. His only saving grace was there were no current unresolved charges he had which allowed him to wander in public, yet he still had to be careful. He had more enemies than friends.

The laboratory was filled with scientists doing their best to complete their own niche drugs to sell to the underground market. He needed to sell drugs that didn’t fit in with his goals to financially support the operation. That day he joined in. He didn’t ask for anyone’s help, he just messed with the chemicals to see what they would make. Once they were put into capsules, he sold them, not caring about the consequences. Some people may die, but they’ll further his research. Besides what date are they expecting by buying underground drugs?

“Chrono, come with me.” Kai called. “I’m presenting to pops tonight.” He told him.

After telling him his plan very loosely there was a silence. They have the facility to erase quirks, but not the main ingredient, but they’re close.

“I don’t want you involved in anymore drugs.” Pops told him. “You’re too smart . Just let me handle everything else.”

Kai shut the door behind him. Chrono stood beside him as he inhaled through the mask. He knew he didn’t have enough to make it work, but if Pops saw the results it would have to change his mind. Those heroes are suffocating everyone around. If it was just the police there would be no problem, but those damn heroes…

“Chisaki…” Chrono said.

At the sound of hearing his failure of a name, he punched the wall. Shit. He checked under his glove and saw the hand swelling.

“I’m going to finish this.” Kai told him.

He went back to his office and found the flyer Y/n gave him. The concert was tonight in a church across town. Shit. He was going to be late. It wasn’t important, but he knew he had to make these little things.

“I need a driver.”

Traffic became hell. Villains were fighting in the streets and the police were helpless. Chisaki and the driver were just sitting in a running car unable to go forward. If they just passed the blockade they could maybe only be five minutes late. What was he supposed to do, wait for a hero?

“I’m leaving.”

“Sir-“ the driver called.

“I’m not sitting in traffic.”

He shit the door and saw the police were still blocking the road. He tried taking a detour around the blockade but every street was blocked.

“I have something important to attend to, I need to pass.” He said walking up to a police officer .

Today he wasn’t worried about the law because it was dark out and he doesn’t have any current charges out on him. They’ve been paid or bribed.

“Yeah, no, it’s too dangerous”. The police officer said.

“I’m going to kill you!” One of the villains yelled blasting off a beam.

“Stand back!” The officer said pushing Chisaki.

Debris scattered around distracting the police. Kai jumped the pathetic little fence of a blockade. He ran. It had been awhile since he had to. Immediately he took his jacket off and held on to it. A body was flown at him. It was assumed to be a villain.

“A civilian!” He yelled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Get off of me.” He pushed the man off of him.

“I oughta use you as a shield!” The man took Chisaki off the ground.

Quickly he lifted his glove off his free hand. He slapped the man’s hand for touching him. The arm exploded on impact squirting blood everywhere. He couldn’t kill him here. Not with the police close by. The hives broke out on his arm and face. Chisaki went to an alley to hide from anyone else who could see him. The law and the heros were poorly handling the situation, so it was easier to pass by.

There he found the church between office buildings. It looked crammed where it was. The windows were colored with art from the Bible. Entering the chapel there were many empty pews, marble floor, candle lights, and the sound of singing. At the altar stood a dozen people in white robes singing. The church was dark with a couple spot lights on the choir. Y/n was on the ends, and there he could hear only her voice. The moment seemed to overwhelm and calm him at the same time. He was drawn to take a step closer as he had no control. The front few pews were filled, but 60% of them were empty. He stood in the back, not wanting to be noticed by the other people. He was seen though. The (color) eyes looked at him directly and a smile grew and met with her eyes. It felt like a blessing that was happening.

Y/n was an angle that’s what she was.

Pure, so pure that’s why he didn’t mind her touching him. That’s why he showed her his face. That’s why they kissed. But with his hands, he ended up not taininring her. Was she his and he hers? He dismembered a man’s arm today, and she sang about love. She was his angel and he was her devil. There was no doubt about her now.

It all made sense, she came back to him after so many years, and kept trying to get back into his life, drunk visits, parties, power outages. They were all signs to bring them together. Where does she fit into the plan though? It could be figured out later. Maybe his closest partner?

Next https://tryingfe-imaginesblog.tumblr.com/post/613800412034760704/overhaulxreader-part-13-the-singing-stopped-some

[keyboard-smashed]

The Storm That's Brewing

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality (probs more I haven't planned yet lol)

Warnings: None? Tell me if there are some I didn't think of

Note: This is a fic I've already posted to ao3 (keyboardsmashed33) but I've decided to post it here because ?? I have a new side-blog about the story (my-keyboard-did-it-not-me)

Superpower! Roommate! au regards

Chapter summary: Virgil and Patton Summers move into a new apartment with Logan Barry and Roman King.

-----

Chapter 1- Settling In

"Have you got everything?" Virgil's aunt asked, unpacking the last box from the car.

"Yep, think so!" Patton said cheerfully. Virgil wasn’t so sure.

Patton picked up the first few boxes, Virgil following his example, and started moving towards the apartment building before Virgil exclaimed, "Wait!"

He quickly scanned the boxes again, "What was it Lerman asked us to bring?"

"Logan," Patton corrected, "Asked us to bring the-" He quickly checked his text messages from his new roommate, "-kitchen supplies."

Virgil quietly cursed.

"We forgot the only thing our new roommate asked us to bring. He leased the apartment we're going to be staying in and we forgot the only things he asked us to bring. God, we have to live with him for how long? He's gonna think we're lazy or-"

“Virgil! Sweetie," His aunt interrupted, "Look what you're carrying."

Virgil did as his aunt suggested and found, surely enough, he was carrying a big container labelled "cookery stuff" in his own rushed handwriting.

"Oh."

His aunt chuckled, "Alright now that that's sorted, you boys had best start taking these boxes up and meet your new roommates. I'll wait here and join you with the last few boxes in a minute."

Virgil and Patton agreed and each carried a few boxes to the elevator in their apartment building. Despite their apartment being on the fifth floor, and Virgil having no athletic ability, Virgil decided it was safest if he took the stairs. Who knew what could go wrong in an elevator. He left his boxes with Patton, who was practically buzzing with excitement to meet his new roommate whom he had been texting for the past two weeks, and went back to the car to fetch a few more boxes, where he found his aunt chatting with an unquizzically attractive guy.

The guy towered above Virgil’s aunt, which in all fairness, wasn’t difficult since she stood at a mere 5ft. But the guy was still tall- Virgil estimated he was roughly 6ft tall, making him a whole 6 inches taller than himself. He was well built too, darn him, with the body of a jock.

He simply wore a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and skinny black jeans (that, unlike Virgil’s, had no tears in them), and finally a red scarf to tie the outfit together. Despite the scarf, Virgil thought the guy’s outfit was completely innapropriate for the chilly October weather that had Virgil shivering in his thick black hoodie. The air grew warm around Virgil as he approached.

When Virgil’s aunt saw him coming, she waved, causing the other man to turn around. Virgil’s jaw dropped. He looked like a sculpture- with prominent yet warm and soft features that had to be a result of make-up, because nobody could be that naturally beautiful in Virgil’s opinion.

His auburn hair was styled back neatly, except from one stray hair that stubbornly stuck up which Virgil found rather endearing. The man’s eyes were a beautiful and rich chocolate colour (and Virgil sure had a sweet-tooth).

Virgil found his mouth agape and quickly closed it. He was suddenly very grateful that he’d remembered to put on foundation that morning, otherwise his blush would be painfully obvious. Get a grip, he told himself.

Virgil’s aunt smiled knowingly. “Virgil! This lovely gentleman is Roman. He saw me with all these boxes and offered to help, it turns out he’s your other roommate!”

Virgil’s eyes widened in shock. This handsome stranger that Virgil totally was not crushing on, was his new roommate. Oh, he knew he was screwed right then.

Roman extended his hand to Virgil, “Roman King. Nice to meet you.” He smiled.

Virgil gulped and shook his hand, “I’m Virgil- uh- Virgil Summers. Nice to meet you too.” He stammered. Great, you’ve been here one minute and already made a fool of yourself, he scolded himself.

Roman let go of his hand, much to Virgil’s dismay. He noted, “You’re hot.” His smile fell as he tried to correct himself, “I mean warm. Your hand is really hot.”

Virgil was pleased to see that Roman’s face was as red as his hair. He laughed, “Thanks I guess, but you’re probably just freezing because you’re wearing only a shirt in the middle of fall.”

Roman brought his hands to his face in mock annoyance, “It’s fashionable. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Virgil raised his eyebrow. “Oh yeah, Prince?”

“King.” He corrected.

Virgil’s aunt, who’d been silently watching this back and forth, cleared her throat. The two gentlemen stopped arguing and faced her.

“Oh no, don’t let me stop you two.” She said. The two looked at each other briefly but remained silent. “Oh alright then, why don’t you two take some boxes up then? You can continue while you walk.”

The pair agreed and walked to the elevator together, exchanging awkward smiles, and small talk, when they ran right into Patton.

“Oh Virgil! Who’s this?” Patton asked, trying to get a good look at Roman whose face was hidden behind the three boxes he was carrying (like a show off, Virgil thought).

“Pat, this is Roman Queen. Roman, this is my brother Patton.” Virgil gestured at them with his head, since his hands were full.

“It’s Roman King, but I actually am a queen so you didn’t offend me.” Roman quipped.

“It’s great to meet you! Are you our new roommate or just a kind stranger?” Patton asked.

“I am indeed your roommate, I would shake your hand but...”

“Oh of course! I can take those up in the lift and you two can go get the rest of the boxes?” Patton offered. Virgil agreed.

The elevator was already waiting when they got there.

“Are you sure you can take all these by yourself?” Roman asked when the elevator was stocked with boxes, Patton standing in the centre.

“Well, I am a little boxed in, aren’t I?” Patton joked.

Roman laughed And Virgil groaned that he shouldn't encourage him.

“But anyway, I’ll be fine, Logan said he was happy to assist me. He’s unpacking in the apartment.” He continued.

“Kay, well there are only a few more boxes anyway so we can take them up ourselves.”

Patton nodded. “Tell Aunt Maria I’ll call her tonight.”

“’Course.”

Roman and Virgil made their way back to the car where they discovered that what they’d thought was only few boxes, turned out to be another seven, of which Roman took four. He sat on the curb while Virgil and his aunt said their goodbyes.

“Message me whenever and be careful- especially because of, you know...” Maria trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Virgil promised, picking up the remaining two boxes. Roman stood from the curb.

“Roman, you’ve got my number in case this one doesn’t check in, you can free to message any time for a chat too.” Maria said. Virgil shot a strange look at Roman who simply smiled in response.

“Bye! Té amo!” She called out as they walked away.

“You too!” Virgil shouted back, a little quieter.

“¿Hablas Español?” Roman asked.

“Huh? Oh right, yeah no. Not really. Maria does. I just know a few phrases.” Virgil replied. He opened the door for Roman, who he doubted could even see with all the boxes he was carrying. A hypothesis that was proven correct when Roman walked straight into the elevator door. “Well done.” Virgil sneered.

Roman put down what he was carrying and glared at Virgil, pressing the button, and not breaking eye contact until the elevator arrived. When it arrived, Roman moved his boxes inside and took Virgil’s too, stepping into the elevator. He moved to make space for Virgil who looked nervously inside.

“I know it’s a bit cramped but I don’t bite, Dr Gloom. Well, not usually.” He laughed. Virgil remained motionless.

“You go on up, I don’t trust elevators.” Virgil shrugged. Roman nodded and picked up a box; “What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

Roman passed him a box. “You don’t like elevators so we’ll walk up the stairs, unless you can teleport?”

“I can walk up some stairs by myself.” Virgil said pointedly, handing the box back to Roman.

“I’m sure you can, even with those short legs,” He looked down at Virgil, who was only 5’6” (a perfectly reasonable height, Virgil thought, Roman was just unusually tall), “But you need not.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “God, you really are just a Disney prince in training, aren’t you? Fine, I’ll text Pat to get the boxes.” He said, texting while he spoke. “Or you could, you know, just text my aunt since you got her number for some reason.”

Patton replied almost immediately, ‘Sure thing!’.

Virgil clicked floor seven on the elevator and moved out before the doors closed him in.

Roman raised his arms in defence, “Hey, she gave my her number, not the other way round. She just wants to check on you.”

Virgil slid his phone into his pocket. He walked next to Roman, on the inside of the wall, so that Roman would have to walk further. “You could’ve only spoken to her for like two minutes before I came out!”

“Ah, coming out, how difficult. Anyway, I’m very charming.” First he called himself a queen, then a coming out joke? This guy was surely gay, Virgil reckoned (or hoped).

He waved the coming out joke away, “Right, Prince Charming, I forgot.”

Roman looked delighted, “Why thank you!” He beamed.

They walked in an (awkward? Virgil wasn’t sure) silence for a few seconds. Anxious to fill the silence, Virgil coughed, then asked “So, uh, what’s Logan like?”

Roman put his hands up in the universal ‘I don’t know’, “Dunno, haven’t met him yet. I got here just after you. My stuff’s coming in a few hours, I just wanted t get here early and meet the new roomies.” He explained.

“Weird, but sure.” Virgil panted, “Why are there so may stairs?”

“What, your short legs tired, Fall Short Boy?” Roman teased.

“Bad insult, good reference, challenge accepted.” Virgil sprinted up the stairs. He heard Roman exclaim something along the lines of ‘Unfair!’ and race after him.

Virgil was easily outmatched. Roman reached their apartment while Virgil was still in the fourth floor hall, moaning about his loss and unfair advantages Roman had despite the fact that nobody could hear him. He’d given up on running as soon as Roman passed him, walking the rest of the way and enjoying the brief silence which he felt was going to be a rare occurrence with both Patton and Roman around, and who knew what Logan was like?

When he finally made it to the apartment, he found the door ajar. So much for Roman’s princely manners then, shouldn’t he be escorting Virgil in? Not like Virgil minded, of course.

Inside the apartment were the sounds of gentle conversation and movement- then suddenly the sound of something smashing. Virgil rushed inside.

“What happened?” Virgil asked at the same time as Patton said, “It’s okay!”

A man, whom Virgil assumed was Logan, turned to face him. He wore jeans, a black button up t-shirt, a dark blue tie and glasses almost identical to Patton’s.

Logan smoothed his pristinely slicked back medium-brown hair into place and pushed his glasses further up on his nose,

“Hello, I am Logan Barry, your new roommate. The noise you just heard was a plate smashing which would be the result of Patton and Roman's inefficient unpacking method."

Virgil looked at Logan cautiously, he seemed nice enough- a little direct, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“Virgil Summers.” He replied.

Roman glanced at Virgil, nodding slightly, but addressed Logan, "It would actually be very efficient if I was working with someone that could catch- no offence Patton."

Patton swept his hand through the air like he was literally brushing off the comment.

"Oh, no worries, it's true." He agreed.

"For safety reasons, I think it would be wise if somebody swept up the plate shards.” Logan reasoned.

"I'll do it!" Patton volunteered, searching through the cleaning boxes for a dustpan and brush. It didn't take long, since there was only one but he still didn't find it, "Oh dear, I think we've forgotten the dustpan and brush."

"Let me check." Roman said, rooting through the boxes. "Uh, what colour is it?" He asked.

"Ooh, it's a lovely dark blue." Patton replied.

Roman pulled out a blue dustpan and brush, "Aha! A new set of eyes always helps." He knelt and swept up the plate fragments, Logan occasionally pointed at a piece he missed and Virgil tried to suppress his snickering as Roman imitated Logan when he turned his back.

By 8pm, most of the apartment was ready, due to Logan's incessant nagging that it would be optimal if they completely unpacked that same day. Boxes were unpacked and stacked in a corner in the family room which was otherwise empty until Roman's things were to arrive.

The only messy parts of the apartment were the rooms, as everyone, other than Logan, had decided to leave theirs (mostly) alone until they could paint them- only putting duvets on the beds that had been left by the old owners, or supplied by the landlord, Virgil wasn't sure.

The rooms were quickly claimed: Logan, who had arrived first and already picked the room, chose the room with the best view for stargazing; Roman picking the largest room which he measured with a measuring tape he found in one of Logan's boxes; Virgil opting for room closest to the kitchen, which unfortunately shared a wall with Roman who had blasted Disney songs on his phone while unpacking and Patton subsequently moving into the second smallest room that, to his delight, was the easiest to access the main room (or family room as he liked to call it).

Virgil's room was one of the messiest due to Logan's insanely fast organisation skills and the fact that Roman didn't have anything to put in his room yet. Virgil's bed, which was a simple black wooden bed, took up a good portion of the room. It was a snug fit with a wardrobe and inbuilt desk, as well as Virgil's few packed up belongings, but Virgil didn't care.

Virgil sat on his bed, tired from the excessive amounts of exercise and socialization he'd done in the last few hours. He’d managed to avoid too much, ducking into his room as soon as he felt like he’d done enough not to feel guilty about not helping.

All Virgil really wanted to do after a long day was rest. However, fate is a cruel thing. And fate decided he wasn't allowed to rest. As soon as he thought his job unpacking was done, he heard a car horn and then a knock on his door.

Begrudgingly, he got out of bed. He manoeuvred the boxes in his room and opened the door to find Patton, looking as bubbly and energised as ever. Virgil had no idea how he did it.

"What?" Virgil yawned.

"Roman's stuff's here!" Patton said. He was rolling on the balls of his feet, ready to run and help Roman as soon as possible. Virgil however, was missing the warm spot on his bed.

"So?" He leaned against the doorframe, hoping Patton would just drop the subject and leave him be but if previous experience meant anything, he’d have no such luck.

"Oh, don't be a couch potato, come help us get the couch, please?” He asked hopefully, dragging out the please and launching into his signature irresistible puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't be a couch potato if there's no couch?" Virgil had meant it as a criticism to Patton’s- was it even a pun?- but his heart wasn’t in it.

"Exactly!" Patton exclaimed, "Plus Roman said he'd buy us all dinner if we helped."

“You had me at free dinner.” Virgil’s stomach rumbled in agreement.

-----

Taglist: ~nobody~ xoxo

(also does anyone wanna tell me how to link chapters or do anything at all?????????? pls)

Chapter 2:

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping for Home Ch. 1 ~ Consequences

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me.

Song rec for this Chapter: “Consequences” by Camila Cabello

Taglist: @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @leelee10898 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @katurrade @indiacater @choiceswreckedme @ritachacha @noey718-blog @carabeth @daniv2278 @cosigottahavefaith @ao719

    Libby groaned as she rolled over in bed, slapping her alarm. Setting her feet on the floor with a grumble, she wiped her face before heading down the hallway to flip on the other bedroom lights.

     “School. Up. Now.” She commanded loudly, rounding the corner and plodding to the kitchen.

    Just as she was taking her first sweet sip of coffee, her daughter entered the kitchen. “Morning!” Emma sang as she opened the fridge, her blue eyes shining and bright blonde hair flying like a halo around her.

   Libby paused to observe the young girl, wondering for the millionth time if her ungodly cheer at this early hour was a trait she had somehow inherited from her father. If the man Libby was thinking of really was Emma's father.

   “Where's your brother?” Libby asked, gulping the warm liquid in her mug.

   “You know Will. I haven't seen him yet.” Emma responded, pouring herself a tall glass of orange juice.

   Libby rolled her eyes. “William! I'm coming with the wooden spoon if I don't see you in five minutes!” She hollered. After a few beats she heard the grumblings of her teenage son as he shuffled about getting ready for school. He definitely took after her in the morning.

   Still, she contemplated as she propped herself in his doorjamb, there were things about him that reminded her of both of the men she'd left behind so many years ago.

    He had the blue eyes, which both men shared and the broad shoulders. His hair was a shade of dark, dirty blonde somewhere between them both.

   Libby sighed. “You've got your last final today huh?”

  Will nodded as he tied his sneaker. “I'm not worried. It's history.”

   “Even if history is your favorite subject, don't blow this off. Will, I'm serious. If you don't get an A they're going to hold you back. Do you really wanna stay behind while Emma becomes a junior?”

   “Okay, Mom. I know how important it is. And this time I really did study,alright?”

   Libby nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

   “Don't forget you both owe me a shift at the shop after school.” She told her daughter.

   Emma nodded. Will walked into the kitchen taking a gulp of his sister's oj as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

  “Come on. We're gonna be late.” He said grabbing the keys to their shared car.

   Emma rolled her eyes. “I've been waiting on you ya know. Bye Mom. Love you.”

  “Yeah love ya mom.” Will kissed his mother's cheek.

  “I love you both. Seat belts and drive safe!” She called as the teenagers bounded out the door.

       Drake turned down the long, dirt driveway towards the farm. It was smaller than his mother's, but he could definitely tell they'd been expanding since his last trip here.

  After unloading the horses from the trailer and sorting out the finer points of his delivery to Mr. Sawyer, he climbed back into the truck.

   “Hey Dad?” asked the young girl in the passenger's seat.

   Drake quirked an eyebrow as he pulled onto the main road.

   “Can we find a coffee shop? Like a real one. Not a roadside diner. I really want to get a chai tea.”

   “Chai tea? What even is that?” He scoffed, but the fourteen-year-old batted her lashes, undeterred.

   “Alright fine. We'll get checked in at the hotel and I'll ask the attendant about where to get chai tea.”

      The girl at the front desk had pointed Drake and McKenzie to a small place called The Nook. They pushed inside the tiny shop and Drake jammed his hands in his pockets, surveying the cozy surroundings as Mack stepped up to order.

    The boy behind the counter seemed nice enough, but Drake eyed him carefully taking note that he'd placed his hand close to McKenzie's on the counter as he leaned in to talk to her.

     He'd been paying so much attention to his daughter flirting with the cashier that he hadn't noticed the woman walking through the shop, pausing at each table to make sure the patrons we're satisfied. Then he heard her laugh.It was a deep, pristine sound. The kind of laugh that was real and came straight from someone's belly and Drake was certain that he'd heard it before.

    Like a swirling vortex the memories from years long since passed flooded over him. Ballrooms and waltzes and all of the fixtures of the royal court that Drake hated from his old life back in Cordonia raced to the forefront of his mind as he spun on his heels to find the source.

   And just like that, there she was, wearing the same smile that could light up a room almost seventeen years ago. It was like no time had passed for her at all and he felt his jaw go slack as he stared at her.

    “L-Libby? Libby Scott as I live and breathe.” Drake heard the words fall from his lips before his mind even registered that he'd said them.

****************************

           Libby heard someone call her name and she froze in place, recognizing the smooth, even voice instantly.

   She flipped her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as she turned in the direction of the voice.

   “Drake Walker? Is that you?” She flashed him a smile, crossing the floor to embrace her old friend. Internally she was screaming.

    “How the hell are you? It's been a long time.”

     “I’ll say. 16 years is a very long time. What are you doing in Georgia?” Drake asked.

    “Oh I um...this is home now. This is my coffee shop.” Libby told him, gesturing around the room.

    “No kidding? It's a nice place, Scott. Not quite my scene, but it's nice. No offense.”

   “Same ole Drake. I guess some things never change huh?” She laughed.

   “Guess not. I- I only came in because my daughter,” Drake began pointing toward McKenzie. “begged for a...some kind of tea.”

   “Daughter? The girl my son, Will is practically drooling over right now?”

   Drake whipped his head around to see a blonde, blue- eyed girl slap the cashier's arm. He smiled again at McKenzie before following the other girl into the back.

   “That's your boy?” He continued to watch as Libby's son reemerged, a stack of paper coffee cups in his hand as he began to restock them. Drake edged closer to the counter, surveying the teenager in earnest.

    “Drake he's not...it's not what you think..” Libby tried to lie. Her old friend didn't take his eyes off of her son as he replied, “It's not? Because I think I'm looking at the heir to the Cordonian crown, Scott. Tell me I'm wrong.”

   His brown eyes met hers in an intense stare as she bit her lower lip.

    “Tell me that's not Liam's son.”

    “He might be.” She whispered.

   “Might be? What the hell does that mean?” Drake's tone was hushed but harsh as McKenzie stepped up to them. She handed her father his black coffee with a smile.

    “Ready to go?” She asked.

    “Uh, actually, Mack, thi-this is Libby Scott. She's an old friend of mine from back home. Lib, this is my daughter McKenzie.”

   “Nice to meet you Ms. Scott. You're from Cordonia too?”

  “New York, actually. But I lived in Cordonia for a time many, many moons ago.”

  “Listen I've got to get her settled, but can I...can we talk? Like really talk? Me and Mack are in town for a few days. Maybe we can..get some food or something?” Drake asked, still sneaking glances back at Will.

  Libby gulped, her eyes fixing on anything but him. For so long she had worried that this day would come. She took a deep breath knowing she could no longer run from her past.

   “I'd love to.” She lied.

   “Mom!” Emma called from behind the counter. “Will won't take the trash out..”

  Libby sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'm coming.”

    Drake's eyes went wide as he watched the exchange. “Scott, I thought you said you had a son.”

   She gave him a sorrowful glance, knowing this was a lot for him to digest. “I do. Will is my son.” She pointed first at the boy, then at the blonde girl from earlier.

  “Emma is my daughter. They're-”

  “Twins. Twins run in the Rhys family.” Drake mumbled.

   “ Listen I have to handle these ingrates,” Libby joked, trying to lighten the mood. “we close at 5. Would you and McKenzie like to meet us here? I'll cook you guys something special at my house.”

   “We'll be here because you and I-” Drake motioned between the two of them.

  “I'll explain everything, Drake. I promise.”

[a-quiet-borderline-diary]

Feeling a bit alone tbh..

The other day, my husband slapped me. He has never hit me before. It wasn't hard, but it still pissed me off. He hit me because I insinuated that his late pet rat may have died from getting sick from the cold because he didn't keep up with the cage enough. I said this to drive home my point that he isn't taking care of cleaning the pet rat cage for his current pet rats. He doesn't clean it until it gets so bad that the entire upstairs smells like piss and I complain about it. He should be getting this chore done way before the smell starts creeping into other rooms of the fucking house. He hit me because he was outraged that I would essentially blame him for the death of his pet.

Then, he refused to apologize and told me to get out. I doubled down and told him, I am taking this fucking house. If he wants to leave me, he can get out and I am taking what we have. He also made comments about how he will kill himself so I can't get anything out of him anyway... He told me I can go back to living with my abusive mother because I don't make enough money on my own to afford a house like the one we rent together.

Since he was threatening to leave me, I decided I should call the police and make sure there is a record that he hit me so if he tries to divorce me then I will likely get alimony without a problem. I do not want to press charges or have him get fined heavily or jailed, because that will ultimately affect me as well... But since I called them now he is facing a court date for it and they may decide to take action regardless of me wanting to drop the charges.

He seems to be taking this as a reality check, it put his career and marriage at risk. I wanted to make sure he actually has to face some sort of serious consequence for hitting me. He has gotten away with other things to treat me shitty like cheating or borderline cheating on me... And there was no real consequence because I did not leave him for it. I do not want to leave him, despite everything, because I know he does love me and these shitty things he does are a side effect of him going untreated for mental illness and trauma. I am making the decision to stay, once again, but this time I wanted to make sure he knows I am fucking dead serious. The charges will likely be dropped as it is his first offense, but now that he has been reported for hitting me he will definitely face consequences if it happens again.

I am worried that this legal trouble will hinder some things for our upcoming move, and worse case scenario he will lose his job. I believe he still will qualify for disability payment if he is separated from the military, so we will be able to get by I think as long as we downsize and he gets some sort of employment to cover what the disability payments don't cover for his share of income.

I think despite the legal hiccup, we will find a way to get by but I do not regret making that call. Like hell is he going to send me back to live with my abusive mother. He made a promise to take care of me and he is going to do it right. I'm not putting up with being taken for granted or hit for any reason.

It sucks because for his fucking sake, I haven't told a soul about what happened or what he did (besides police). His reputation would be ruined if anyone found out he hit me. It would cause problems for me, because I prefer that my friends also befriend and be close to my husband... So telling anyone would alienate me from my own friends if they chose to distance themselves from him. I have no one to talk about this to except my therapist and to this blog anonymously. I do have therapy this afternoon, so hopefully I can speak to her about what is going on.

We have an image to others that we are a relationship to envy and strive for, but people don't know how difficult a marriage really is between 2 mentally ill people. We always have so much to improve and fix... He is cooperating and taking responsibility for his mistake, so I can only hope he learns from all this. I just hope I don't have to suffer financially because of whatever punishment he may receive legally.

[damnthatnoise]

Darko The Super | Of Dogs & Devils | An Interview

Hip Hop has long been about bravado, skill, and how your personality can capture and pull the listener in even further than just your skillset. There have been many an MC who’s personality sometimes outshined the lyrical prowess for better or worse, but when I sit back and think of some of my favorite MC’s growing up (Redman, Slick Rick, Kool Keith, E-40, and Del to name a few) the personality often was near cartoonish with no real effort from the MC to make it appear that way. Enter MC Darko The Super who since first coming across his music via Already Dead Tapes has oozed oddball personality, and ever evolving skills as an MC. Darko is no joke rapper though, instead he is adept at delivering some stark reality raps littered with glints of humor we often use to cope with the pain of existence. 

Fresh off delivering one of my personal favorites last year in the form of Card Tricks For Dogs, he returns with his friend Steel Tipped Dove to give us The Devil Defeated, and makes a claim as one of the indie hiphop scenes freshest, most colorful, and promising voices making music. 

You can order the digital, cassette and SUPER vinyl copies of The Devil Defeated here, as well as all Darko The Super Items. 

The Devil Defeated by Darko The Super & steel tipped dove

_____________________________________________________________________

Damn That Noise: Darko The Super. What’s the origin of that name and what’s it come to mean to you now? 

Darko: I think Darko The Super was my gamertag on Xbox Live before it was my official artist alias. I did two albums as Evan Darko after I seen Donnie Darko in high school. It had a big impact on adolescent me. The Super comes from another big influence on me at the time, MF Doom. My favorite song my senior year was "Dead Bent". I thought the ending of Operation Doomsday was really cool. The way it let you decide between hero or villain. I was big into vigilante justice at the time. I wanted to be like my favorite superheroes. So that's where the name came from. Nowadays it's just a name. More people know me as Darko than my real name these days, so it'd be silly to change it. Name's don't define you. It doesn't matter much to me. Though I like it. 

DTN: You’ve had a pretty prolific young career given that you’ve dropped 10+ projects since 2011, but when we were taking recently you said you’ve just now started to feel like you now know your voice. What’s changed in the last couple of years to get you to that place? 

Darko: Since 2011 I may have done nearly 100 albums. Most haven't lasted. I've deleted and erased most of my material pre 2014 from the face of the internet. (If anyone has a Loser CD, please destroy it.) I put out 10 albums in 2018 alone. All better than the previous. "Watered Down Demon Fuzz" from 2017 is the album I truly found my voice on. I listened back to "Oh, No! It's Darko" for nostalgic purposes and it seems more like a comedy album than anything, and not that good of a comedy album either. I was 18 when I made the first album I put on cd and gave to everyone at shows when I was starting to go out and perform. It was called Loser, inspired by Beck. Next cd I made was a compilation, also terrible, but somehow it's going for $75 on Discogs. I personally don't like anything prior to 2016. "Carve a Happy Face  on my Tombstone" had a few good songs. Those were transformative years. My perspective on life has changed severely. It's hard to be happy with things you create when you're not even happy with who you are. I think in finding myself, I found my voice too. Life will always be a mystery. But at least I'm more comfortable in my own skin at the moment. Therefore more comfortable in my art. 

DTN: Why erase the evidence of growth though? If anything that could show folks the rapid progression of Darko? 

Darko: I'd prefer to leave a better first impression. Maybe I'm too insecure to show people my progression. It's also just a matter of that not being the way I feel anymore as far as the way I wrote back then. 

DTN: Your style is a bit unorthodox in that you kind of dance all over the pocket of the beats, and your inflections seem to change at the drop of a hat. I know E-40 and DOOM are a couple favorites of yours but who else’s impressed a young Darko and helped give us the man we have now? Who made you say “I think this is something I want to do!!”?

Darko: Murdoc and MyGrane McNastee from Orlando, Florida were a couple of the first independent rappers I got into from watching the Wake Up Show freestyles on Youtube. They were big influences on me. From there I got into MF Doom, Madlib, and J Dilla. During the datpiff era, I got really into Charles Hamilton's mixtapes. I was a big fan of a web series around that time called Internet Celebrities. Through them I found out about Das Racist. I remember listening to them for the first time on MySpace. I saw Big Baby Gandhi in a video with them. Later on his Debut would become one of my favorite albums. I was really into going on hip hop blogs. I remember watching Open Mike Eagle rap "Qualifiers" in a laundromat and having my mind blown. He told me Serengeti was his favorite rapper which had me watching every Kenny Dennis video I could find. Dennehy became my favorite album. I got into Mr. Muthafuckin' eXquire from seeing the Last Huzzah video with Das Racist, El-P, Despot, and Danny Brown. That's still my favorite posse cut. From checking out rap battles I got into Soul Khan who I remember posting about Homeboy Sandman's album The Good Sun. Blogs also got me listening to every Blu song. Her Favorite Color was something special to me. All those artists were huge in developing my approach. Nowadays my favorite rappers of all time are E-40, Serengeti, and Kool Keith

DTN: Card Tricks for Dogs feels like your most fully formed artistic statement yet and The Devil Defeated feels like the exclamation point showing folks you’re a real force. What helped bring those two records to life?

Darko: Both albums took a long time to come together, which usually isn't the case for me. I remember writing some of those Card Tricks for Dogs tracks while on vacation with my girlfriend and her family. I had tons of beats from my good friend and longtime collaborator Phil Ford aka BLKrKRT (Blacker Karat) loaded on my phone for those trips. I started it shortly after meeting Steel Tipped Dove for the first time. I released an album of his on my label and he offered to mix and master some tracks for me. So this was the first solo album of mine I let someone else do all the mixing for. I took my time with it and let it come together naturally. I believe everything happens at it's own time. As for The Devil Defeated, that album started out as a project called Contemplating Lonely Stuff, inspired by a Serengeti lyric. It was for the most part produced by Height Keech and Steel Tipped Dove. Eventually I decided to do albums with each of them separately. The album with Dove was pretty far along in the process and originally I wanted to call it "Playing Skee-Ball With Zev Love X" but we both agreed that was kinda corny and not many people would get what we were referencing. Then I heard the news of Daniel Johnston passing away, who is a hero of mine. I listened to nothing but Daniel for a few days straight and a few lyrics in particular stuck out to me. The one that landed was "The Devil Defeated" another possibility was My Yolk is Heavy. Me and Dove made over 20 songs for this album and eventually narrowed it down to the most cohesive project we could. We'll be doing a follow up of course. That's in the works now. I'm very proud of this album. My favorite track is a story I wrote based on a song called "Suzy's Face" by my favorite punk band, The Spits. I had to convince Dove on that one. There's another track I tried to convince him about too, but that will never see the light of day since I ended up agreeing with him. 

DTN: You’ve has a chance to work with a lot of interesting and well loved folks. How the hell did the tracks with Lil’B, Charles Hamilton, Denmark Vessey and others come about? 

Darko: I did an album called “Thank You BasedGod” dedicated to Lil B. I produced a track for him way back in 2014. He reached out to me after TYBG and offered to do a track together. So I sent him a couple  Steel Tipped Dove beats and he chose the one that ended up on the album. Later I saw Charles Hamilton posting about doing features. I sent him the Lil B track since that’s a dream collaboration of mine. Lil B is a big Charles Hamilton fan, and they’re both internet gurus of their eras. Charles conquered the blog era by releasing tons of free albums on his own blog, landing on all the mixtape sites. Lil B mastered social media and became a marketing genius, even transpiring music. I’m proud to say the first time they worked together was with me. As for getting Denmark Vessey on the album, he had already worked with Dove and toured with my good friends, The Difference Machine. I was the one who showed them his album Buy Muy Drugs while I was out in Atlanta for a week. That album’s my favorite of the decade. He had posted about doing features so I sent him an email and made it happen. 

DTN: You’ve released a lot of projects via Already Dead Tapes as well as starting UDDTBA. What is the connection with ADT and why start your own label? What have you learned from ADT and how has the played into how you run your label?

Darko: Already Dead Tapes taught me everything I need to know about running a record label. I met them in 2014 when I sent over my latest at the time “Oh, No! It’s Darko.” They were nice enough to release that on cassette. Soon after they invited me to play their weekend long festival in Kalamazoo, Michigan. I brought along ialive and we booked our first tour. Staying in Kalamazoo at the Knights Inn we recorded an album together and formed the now infamous duo The Hell Hole Store. From there we’ve played the Already Dead fest every year and I’ve released quite a few albums on Already Dead Tapes. U Don’t Deserve This Beautiful Art was grown out of wanting to support my friends and artists I admire. I brought on my best buds Steel Tipped Dove and Harvey Cliff to help me run things. Now the sky’s the limit. 

DTN: “Suzy” is life a very interesting record as is “lo-fi princess” off of The Devil Defeated. You mentioned the influence for “Suzy” came from another artists song...how’d this end up on your record and why? Also what’s the idea behind “Lo-Fi..”? 

Darko: During my commute one day I listened to The Spits first self titled album. I hadn’t played it in a while and instantly remembered why they’re the best. One song in particular stuck with me throughout that ride, “Suzy’s Face”. I decided to write a song building off of their track. Almost like taking a short story and creating a movie. I tried to describe in detail about why someone would shoot Suzy in the face at a high school dance. So that’s what I came up with. Lo-fi princess 2 is a sequel to the original from “Watered Down Demon Fuzz” both love songs to my girlfriend, Alora. I liked the phrase cos it reminded me of “Bow-tie Daddy” by Frank Zappa. Now that I think of it, an actual Lo-fi princess would be an anime babe trapped in the track art of a SoundCloud beat. We’d have to defeat the chill hop brigade to save her. 

DTN: You and iAlive have a really dope chemistry and have two very different styles but similar energies that work so well off of each other. What makes that partnership work and why’d you guys want to keep it going after the one hotel infused brainstorming session?

Card Tricks For Dogs by Darko The Super & BLKrKRT

Darko: We kept it going cos there were more hotel sessions to be had. On tour you’re on the highway with a lot of time on your hands. That’s where most of our songs and ideas come from. We set up shop where ever we’re staying and start to bring these ideas to life. The people seem to like us and we enjoy performing together. That’s what keeps the hell hole going. We survive off friendship and fun times. 

DTN: Okay sir Darko. You can only eat at two fast food places for the next year because you lost a bet. Where you going??

Darko: Obviously Taco Bell is numero uno, I’m a big Taco Bell enthusiast. Next would be Wendy’s, best fast food burgers by me, and they got those spicy nuggets. Plus I heard their salads are good too, which I would need a salad every now and then. I don’t think this is too far off from my normal diet. Worst thing that could happen is I have a heart attack. But I’m on that path anyway. Maybe I’ll start exercising. Maybe. 

DTN: What are you picking if you only have Thor and Spider-Man as costumes for Halloween?!

Darko: Spider-Man of course. I could pull off a husky Spider-Man. Family Guy made it look good. I’d need the fake muscles for Thor. Fake muscles never look good. I don’t have the luxurious hair either. 

DTN: What’s the writing process like for you?! Do you let the beat decide the direction? Do you have an idea or some lyrics written and you locate a beat that fits?

Darko: Either or. Writing always comes to me. It’s second nature. If it doesn’t come to me, I don’t write. That’s all there is to it. I only write when I’m inspired. That’s an easy way to go about it. My number one thing is creativity, I don’t wanna be complex or even an intellectual. I want my lyrics to be universally understood. 

DTN: So what’s next on the horizon for Darko The Super?

Darko: Next up I’m working on an album with skits from a comedian friend of mine. He does tons of great characters and videos as Hot Talent Buffet. I think he’s a comedic genius. I’m also working on an album sampling nothing but my favorite band 10cc, titled “Strawberry Studios Jam ‘72” and another album sampling one of my favorite songwriters, Dean Friedman. The Dean and I have a 7” record on the way with my remix of his classic “McDonald’s Girl” on the B side with the original on the A side. I have a couple other collaborative albums coming along. The artist they’re with wants me to hold off announcing it until they’re ready, but I will say it’s a dream collaboration and I’m very excited for it. 

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