#i can’t put my tongue on it but seeing the little and simpler aspects of love is so beautiful and contenting

[dicespam]

this is me exploding after reading maze’s comment

and all these little things —

he who loves, dances upon the tapestry of stars. 

skz!maknae line x reader, 1.8k words overall, no warnings — fluff, comfort. (continuation of this request.) taglist form

a/n : ouuu this marks the end of skz's princess treatment series :( i enjoyed making these sm. and also i might overenjoyed myself writing seungmin's part... whoops

jisung who peels your fruits —

He who always offers to peel your fruits – the simple gesture Jisung does shows that love can be unspoken. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes. His love is pure, he is taking the time to take care of you.

“Ah, jagiya, let me do it,” Jisung says as he walks up to you in the kitchen, gently taking the orange from your hands. A declaration of love isn't always loaded with promises that can easily falter. Sometimes, love is about the little things that connect us. I love you can mean “You mean everything to me so I’m going to peel your oranges and remove the nasty white stuff off of it.” It can also mean “You know, I never really liked your favorite fruit, but your love for it changed my perspective. I started eating it too – it’s like my body was programmed to like the things you love. I can’t help but think of you when I eat them. Not because of the fruit itself, but because of the person who introduced me to its sweetness.” Love resides in these intricate details that complete the bigger picture together – love is a fragmented moment that you are supposed to piece together, alone, or with the person you chose to mend your love with. You chose to build the fragments with him, and any love he offers is yours to treasure.

If any, he will always choose to stand beside you, laughter permeating through the granite surface of the sleek kitchen counter – adorned with jars of spices and utensils, with a fruit in his hand – peeling his undying love for you. If the world were to end soon, he would want it to end at the kitchen counter, while you are laughing and he is smiling, sharing its last sweet bite before facing the twisted fate.

Through Jisung, you realize that love can be unspoken.

To love someone is firstly to confess,

'I’d always offer you a piece of my orange.'

felix who fixes your hair while you eat —

Felix cast a loving gaze at you from across the table of your favorite restaurant as you savored each bite of your meal – his focus completely on you. You caught his loving gaze, his eyes forming into crescents – and you swear his beauty can be one across the stars – his freckles akin to a constellation, sharing its beauty among the starry expanse of the universe. Without a word, he reached to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, his touch felt like a sacred prayer for which no words exist, and you can feel your heart taking over your body – as if you discovered something for which you don’t have a name for, his fingers gentle against your skin. The sudden touch seemed to startle you a bit, making the heat rush to your cheeks. He does this every time, unsure if you would ever get used to it.

He held your face between his palms, his eyes gazing at you lovingly – with a smile that seemed to belong to you completely gracing his lips. You never met someone like him before – where his touch felt like home, and his smile was the purest you had ever seen. It was as if he had found his sole reason to live, the sole reason to cherish the world he completely lived in. Since the first time he saw you, he swore his whole life belonged to you completely.

His actions carry an unspoken intimacy between you two. It's not just about tucking a stray hair; it's a gesture that speaks volumes about his attentiveness and the connection you share – like a devotion he swore to himself that he’s meant to love and cherish you. The warmth in his eyes matches the affectionate sweep of his fingers through your hair, creating a fleeting yet precious moment amidst the simple act of enjoying your favorite meal together. As long as you’re with Felix, you’ll always feel loved, cared for, and deeply understood – as if he has a unique ability to bring order to the disarray of both hair and the world around you.

seungmin who buys the same book —

The spontaneous trips to bookstores with Seungmin is always therapeutic. The paradise of books laid out in front of you makes your heart leap with excitement, your steps quickening as you scan the books with a carefree smile. The moment he sees that smile – how your face radiates amidst the calm atmosphere of the old bookstore in the middle of the night – he swears he sees stars in your eyes. He watches how your smile glistens when it tugs at your lips, followed by the crescents of your eyes – like the moon, perfectly mending the layout of your face, which is his universe. Your whole being is his universe. It feels like a dream to Seungmin. Is this what true love feels like? To see stars in the eyes of his universe? To see the moon within arm's reach?

That’s when he realizes he grabbed the same book you’re holding. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering why he grabbed the same piece.

“I want to read it with you,” he says, looking at you as if you’re iridescent. He isn’t sure how he will get used to this — you’re startlingly beautiful. He can’t look away.

He always reads the same book with you, attentively listening to your thoughts about the protagonist and their love interest. No matter how cliché the book may be, he's always here, eager to hear your every word. Your voice is a crafted melody to Seungmin, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace. He loves witnessing every part of you – the sudden squeal when you reach the story's climax, the random faces you make when you read a passage that catches your attention, and the faint “tsk” when a character does an idiotic thing. He loves seeing and hearing all of it. He loves you in the strongest way there is.

You are loved more than you can ever comprehend. You’re loved by him to the point his presence alone is like waking up to sunlight. He loves you so deeply to the point he’s willing to engrave your name on the palms of his hands. A declaration of faith, perhaps.

There was a time when Seungmin grabbed the wrong book from the bedroom shelf and was startled to see lots of annotations upon flipping through the pages. It was your favorite book, with annotations scribbled excitedly. It seemed like they were all written in the spur of the moment, without minding what words would formulate in the movement of your hand. He flipped to the last page of the book and saw a handwritten note – the penmanship of which he knew every stroke.

“In the past, I always wondered when my love story would unfold. I once dreamt that my greatest love would exist in this lifetime – until Seungmin came. That’s when I realized that perhaps my invisible string exists in this timeline, at this very moment. I am convinced that it’s him — it’s him I’m destined for. It’s him I’m bound to love. This is the truth. I have loved him in every universe. I will love him in every universe. I always look at him as if there were stars in his eyes, sparkling with no intention of stopping. I’ve never met someone like him before. When I'm lost in fear, I always feel sheltered in his presence. I guess this is what love looks like, to be fully seen by someone and be loved regardless, the unwavering bliss of being known and understood.”

Seungmin felt a pang in his chest. His heart was full of a catastrophic whirlwind of emotions – overwhelming love that may be unbearable. With each sentence, the growing pain in his heart started to intensify. It was as if every word on the page seared into his heart even more, leaving an indelible mark of devotion and love beyond comprehension. As he read the letter, the depth of tenderness grew – wrapping around his soul like a tight embrace that threatened to suffocate in its intensity. This must be the feeling of being loved and cherished to the point where its depths transcend the physical realm, leaving the heart forever changed in its wake. The tears welling in Seungmin’s eyes might be hard to suppress as he reads the last sentence of the letter.

“My love for him is woven into the fabric of the universe.”

jeongin who matches outfits with you —

"Ta-da!" Jeongin exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with delight as he showed off his outfit to you, a proud yet excited grin escaping his lips.

"Wow, you really put a lot of effort into your outfit today. Are you sure we’re just doing groceries today, baby?" you jest, looking at him with a smile. Jeongin has a habit of matching outfits with you whatever the occasion is — whether it is a spontaneous trip to the grocery, a shopping spree, a planned day out, or a formal event. Whatever it is, he always takes the time to make sure his style complements yours perfectly, just like how your hearts complement each other. There is a subtle joy in sharing a wardrobe aesthetic; it’s as if both of your style and loving hearts are interconnected as one.

Jeongin’s eyes would gleam whenever you emerged from your shared bedroom, all prepped up and ready. He would always approach you with a soft smile escaping his lips. He would then kiss your forehead — the spot where he tirelessly kisses as a way of expressing love or saying his goodbyes is called a temple; he loves kissing your temple. He is yours to worship and yours to love. Loving someone is such a pure thing to do; love is like a religion he had discovered on his own. Jeongin seeing you in a room felt like a sanctuary.

Jeongin is always ready, never forgetting the promise he made to himself to love you in all seasons. When times get cold and everything is a mess, he drapes his coat on your shoulders and he becomes your warmth – his love a comforting shield against the chill of uncertainty. Amid the chaos, his gesture offers solace, reminding you that you are not alone, and together you can weather any storm. When it gets too warm, he becomes your cooling breeze – his love like an ocean breeze at dawn, offering comfort and relief with his presence and touch – his caring gesture soothing your fiery heart. When it gets dark and shivers run down your spine, he holds your hand and never lets go, whispering assurance: You’re not alone. I got you, I got you.

On days when you didn't anticipate any matching at all, he'd surprise you with a knowing smile, revealing his outfit cutely matched with yours. It became a playful language between you and Jeongin, sharing laughter and giggles. His eyes would light up with satisfaction, almost melting to the thought that love could be expressed through the woven fibers of one’s clothing, the feeling of being seen by someone and being loved anyhow – submitting to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Don’t be afraid to be seen. Let me see you and love you regardless.

taglist: @agi-ppangx @skzstarnet @straykidsland @bluethemoments

⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open

[tossawary]

Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction. 

-

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything. 

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK. 

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either. 

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...” 

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH. 

- 

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

- 

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan). 

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point. 

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

- 

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

 “Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

- 

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example. 

- 

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

- 

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui. 

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things? 

- 

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

- 

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH. 

- 

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

- 

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here. 

- 

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.  

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

- 

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation. 

- 

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

- 

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?” 

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!” 

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.” 

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down. 

- 

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

- 

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on. 

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders. 

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking. 

- 

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

- 

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension. 

- 

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

- 

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever). 

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea. 

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant! 

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does! 

- 

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

 “‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

 “‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

- 

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes. 

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.) 

- 

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

 “Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent. 

- 

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.) 

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss. 

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master. 

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control. 

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers. 

- 

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

 “He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

- 

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later! 

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into. 

- 

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

 “He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

 “Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

- 

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations. 

- 

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him. 

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapter 9: Fireside Chat

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/43675304 Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata). Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War

“Damnit!” 9S shouts, kicking a charred plank.

Ash billows out over the darkening sky as the wood crumbles into dust. A light gust carried the cloud of soot over what remains of the humble grain village; a few free standing bits of scaffolding, defaced statues of the region’s senator, and blackened remnants of stone structures.

“This is the fourth one in a row…” 32S mumbles, burying his head in his hands.

“But…” 801S stammers, “I was here not...a month ago! I was here and it was fine! Everyone was fine!”

He sinks to the ground, a cloud of ash billowing out around him. 9S wraps his arms around his friend’s shoulders as 801S lists the people he met (or at least he thinks they’re people he met...it’s impossible to one charred corpse from the next) who ended up in a vile mass grave burning in the center of town. His voice chokes on the name of a farmhand he had been writing to for some time.

“Why...Why would they attack here?!” 801S yells, “There’s nothing here but wheat! No soldiers lived here! There’s no walls, no battlements...They were just farmers!”

For a moment, a heavy silence fills the air between them.

“...The demons are trying to starve us out,” 11S growls, putting words to what they had realized when they arrived, “It isn’t just bloodlust that makes them target these defenseless towns. These farms supply food all across the Republic. Cut off the supply…”

“...And the capitols weaken,” 9S finishes. “The armies weaken.”

The scouts remain quiet, either out of respect for the dead or from the icy fear that grabs hold of their hearts. Somewhere in the back of all of their minds they knew they were fighting an uphill battle, but this is the first time where they fully realize they’re on the losing side of this war. Grossly outnumbered, outmaneuvered at every turn, unable to keep up with the rapid evolution of their enemy. The only ones that stood a chance were the Devoted, but none of the Theocratic clergymen were allowed within the ranks of a Republic army.

“...One of us should double back to the Commander,” 32S says, breaking the silence.

A low sigh escapes 9S. “No one’s gonna be happy about this. We’ve been marching for nearly three days straight.”

9S volunteers to be the one to go back while the other scouts press onward. A strictly maintained five mile gap separates the main force from the scouts, but with only flat farmland and open fields to cross, it doesn’t take long for him to see Commander White atop her warhorse leading the troops. He falls in step next to her and Lieutenant Jackass’ horses easily.

“Well?” White asks, exhaustion creeping into her normally level tone.

9S sighs. “No good. That town’s been razed too. No survivors either.”

“Damn…” Jackass rubs her face with one hand. “We can’t push them for much longer, White.”

“We can’t stop,” the Commander snaps and pulls a small map from her saddlebag. “It’s far too dangerous to halt everyone out in these open fields.”

“It’s also too dangerous to make exhausted soldiers try to defend anything. Look at them White, any longer than another day or so and they’ll start dropping.”

She gestures to the irregular lines of soldiers and carts, most nursing varying degrees of injury that come with days of nonstop movement. A few hitch rides on carts wherever they can find space, or double up on the back of a horse just to get some kind of reprieve. Even 2B, who 9S can see peeking around the bulk of the army, sits on the healer’s supply cart with 6O.

“Here,” White says, snapping 9S out of his thoughts. “There’s a proper town half a day beyond the one we’re about to pass. Walls and a militia. If that’s been razed too, we stop anyway.”

“Understood.”

With time of the essence Jackass loans 9S her horse, a brown stallion named Hort, to ride further ahead. With the speed of the ornery beast, he catches up to the other scouts within the hour. Relaying the information brings some light and hope back to the scouts. 801S hops on the back of Hort, sitting close behind him as they ride.

To pass the time, the pair chat idly about whatever crosses their mind, careful to avoid heavier subjects or politics. 801S teases 9S about 2B, and in turn 9S teases 801S about the archer boy he’s been eyeing for a while. They reminisce about old times, simpler times, till they see the turrets of the town’s walls.

“Their wall’s still standing!” 801S shouts, bouncing excitedly much to the displeasure of Hort.

9S is about speak, but the sight of a wooden sign with a crude depiction of a half-demon stops the words in his throat. Though it is devoid of words, the message is clear enough to him. A warning. A threat.

801S’ expression sours when he notices the tension creeping through 9S. “...Stop the horse here. I’ll go ahead inside and let the town know the main force is on its way.”

“Thanks,” 9S says with a shudder in his voice.

Uncertainty worms its way through his gut as he rides back towards the advancing army. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s come across a town with that kind of mindset, but it always brings risk. It isn’t exactly like he can blame them, either. With the only thing separating the town from the demon hordes roaming around is a few stones, paranoia is to be expected.

At least within the ranks of an army he’s relatively safe.

The sun reaches its highest peak by the time 9S reaches White again, who announces the good news. Soldiers erupt into cheers, energy surging back through their exhausted bodies. They don’t even complain when she announces that the march will move into double time to reach the town before nightfall, in fact it seems to bolster their spirits further.

9S returns Hort to his owner and hops onto the healer’s wagon with 6O and 2B.

“So, what are you ladies talking about? Girl things?” he asks with a smirk.

6O snorts, “We have much better things to talk about than fashion and marriage.”

2B tilts her head to the side in a way that 9S can’t help but consider adorable. “Is that what humans consider feminine?”

“Well, yeah,” 9S says with as much confusion as is on 2B’s face, “What do Coatyls consider feminine?”

“Stoicism, well maintained weapons, and…” 2B pauses to think for a moment. “...A healthy amount of bloodlust.”

“Oh. That...explains some things.”

6O laughs at his expense. 2B just holds that same bewildered expression she has whenever she’s confronted with the novelties of human culture as 9S and 6O trade playful punches with each other.

“Anyway, 2B,” 6O begins once she’s had her fill of punching and laughing at 9S, “as I was saying, my patron god isn’t necessarily evil. None of the old gods are, they’re simply...forces of nature.”

“Oh no,” 9S groans. “She’s doing this again.”

“Quiet, you.”

He sticks his tongue out at her, but lets 6O continue.

“I’m familiar with the pantheon, but why...that one?” 2B asks.

“They’re representative of nature, decay, the cyclical aspects of life; that kind of thing. They’re a bit overlooked compared to some of the other, more powerful gods.”

“Wait, which one is this again?” 9S interrupts.

“Their name isn’t exactly pronounceable by the untrained tongue, and invoking it without warrant can have...nasty consequences. Roughly translated, the name is Infinite Equine, or Long Horse.”

“Ugh, right. That nasty horse skull thing. It’s so creepy!”

“I have to agree with 9S,” 2B says. “It is a bit...off-putting.”

“What did you think the manifestation of life, death, and rebirth was going to look like?!” 6O snaps. “A cute little rabbit?!”

“You’re a cute little rabbit!” 9S shouts, and bursts into laughter a second later.

“That...doesn’t seem like an insult,” 2B says through barely contained laughter.

True to the Commander’s word, the army arrives at the town’s gates as just as the moon begins to rise. 801S and the rest of the scouts, along with a few local guards, greet them as they pass through the walls. The townsfolk who are still wrapping up their daily routines stop and stare at the army nearly four times the size of their haphazard militia marching down their main street.

He knows it’s a fools game, but 9S can’t help but let his mind wander. This town is decently fortified, relatively clean, not destitute but not aristocratic...It’d be the perfect place to settle down once the war is over. To finally stop being a soldier, being a part of an army and live a simple life. Maybe even get married and start a family. His gaze wanders to 2B, who looks around the town and its well maintained brick buildings with wonder.

Well..so long as he’s fantasizing.

He must look like a blushing maid, but at the moment he doesn’t really care. It’s good for the mind to indulge in the ideal future every now and then. Images play across his mind in quick succession, each one more unobtainable than the last. It doesn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the thought.

What a silly daydream this is. Why would a warrior such as 2B have any desire to be a housewife, to raise children, or to settle down entirely? She probably intends to live and die on the battlefield, swathed in blood and glory. He doesn’t pay it too much mind, it is a simple daydream after all. No need to get too hung up on reality.

Until reality hits him square in the chest.

As the army passes through the center of town, 9S comes face to face with the grim truth of his life. In the middle of the open plaza, a crude wooden gallows looms over them, and from this morbid structure hangs a recent victim.

The body, whose face is obscured by a roughspun sack, appears fresh. The skin is only a pale shade of purple and rot has yet to set in. His hands are bound behind his back with thick rope that cuts into the skin, staining them black with dried blood. He’s stripped of clothing, revealing thick brown fur that covers him from the waist down, barely concealing the wound where his genitals would have been as well as the hooves in place of human feet. A length of parchment hangs from his chest, held in place by rusting iron hooks.

“Here hangs…..for the crime of Demonic Parentage.”

The name appears to have been vandalized, instead of identifying the victim, it instead reads slurs and obscenities 9S would rather not read in their entirety.

A number of soldiers, including 21O and Jackass, fidget and shy away as they pass the body. Tension worms its way through everyone, even the horses grumble with agitation.

He pulls his hood around his face and sinks into anonymity within the ranks of the army.

What a fool he is to dream.

The army pitches a slap-dash camp on the northern side of the town, a rough series of tents and bedrolls. It isn’t much, but it gives the soldiers a chance to sit down and rest within the safety of the walls. They eat and drink and sing bawdy songs around a small fire, and despite the dire state of the war levity and joy returns to the army. If only for a moment.

It all proves to be too much for 2B, who excuses herself to river a few miles away when the songs take a much louder and raunchier turn. She underestimated just how social humans were, the constant chatting and the way they move around in groups of three or more, groups of people who weren’t even related. The open air and quiet solitude is something she needed before she starts snapping at people.

This region’s fish are small, too small for her liking. She should have expected it: the water barely came up to her scaled ankles. They’re more like snacks than a proper meal, each one barely larger than her beak. 6O warned her about passersby that might see a giant white dragon and attack, but the only thing that catches her eye is a deer that gets a bit too close for her liking. She eats her fill of fresh fish, something she’s found herself longing for since falling in with White’s army, then flies back to the town.

2B perches on the top of the wall, taking a moment to preen her wings of dirt and grime. To her surprise the camp is silent, save for the snores of soldiers and the crackling of one remaining campfire. The way they were carrying on, she thought they were going to be at it all night. Their leader must have told them the march would resume early. To 2B, someone who possesses the gift of flight, the whole idea of an ordered march seems unnecessary. She chastises herself for thinking this way, these humans and their awful work beasts called horses don’t have the same abilities she does, so they must work around their faults.

The approaching footsteps of a local guard break her from her musings. Not wanting to attract unwanted attention herself, she hops from the top of the wall in the middle of a transformation. A swordswoman out for a quiet walk is more explainable than a feathered beast in a human’s eyes.

As 2B wanders past the last dying campfire, she notices a familiar face sitting alone. Curled into himself, sitting on the ground, is 9S. His face is buried in his arms, but the shock of white hair is unmistakable, even in the low light. A sharp pang shoots through 2B’s chest at the pathetic sight and finds herself walking over to him.

9S looks up at the sound of encroaching footsteps with fear in his eyes, though his features quickly soften once he realizes it’s only 2B. He gives her a half hearted wave before wrapping his arms around himself.

“You seem troubled,” 2B says, sitting on the ground next to him.

“Huh?” He rubs his face. “No, no I’m fine. I’m…”

“A poor liar.”

9S lets out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. I guess so.”

2B gives him a moment to collect himself. He sits up straighter, kicking his legs out and letting himself stretch and get a few breaths of cool night air.

“I guess it’s...I’m…” He sighs. “You never really get used to seeing a body that…that could have been you.”

“Ah...I see,” 2B mutters.

How could she be so dense? Of course seeing something like that would affect him. She should try to comfort him.

She has no idea how to comfort humans.

“I’m sorry,” 9S says. “It’s...it’s silly to be scared. White’s army is one of the only safe places for people like me...For half-demons. We can live and work and fight without having to fear our friends turning on us. But…”

He swallows a lump forming in his throat and wipes his eyes. “But the moment I step outside the army, the moment I try and form a life outside combat and war...I could end up on the end of a rope. Or worse.”

“You look human, though. Your charm necklace conceals anything suspect.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t foolproof.” He turns the little charm in his fingers a few times. “It’s weak magic, something a child could pull off. Easily detected or disarmed, but discrete and easy to make. Mom-...21O made this for me, it’s like the one she’s got.”

9S taps the jewel twice. With a faint shimmer, small nub-like growths appear just below his hairline, parting his hair slightly. His thin tail curls around his leg, and his eyes fade to nearly pure white.

It’s odd, 2B has only seen this form only once before, but the shock is gone. It’s about as strange to her as seeing him with a different haircut. So instead of recoiling in fear, all she does is tilt her head a little.

He taps the jewel again and the demonic features disappear. “It’s so stupid...everyone’s so scared of a few weird additions. But...We’re capable of...gods know what.”

9S hangs his head in shame and curls back into himself. He rests his forehead on his knees. “Are you scared, too?”

She twists the end of her robe between her clawed fingers. “I...I’ve never met a half-demon before you, I must admit.”

“Really?”

2B shakes her head and stares into the embers. “I’ve only ever had...encounters...with proper demons.” Her hands curl into fists. “They attacked our village one day, without warning. Even our strongest warriors had trouble fighting them off. They killed…I don’t know how many of us. The village was devastated in just an hour.”

“Oh…”

An aching cold creeps its way through 9S’ chest, one that won’t leave no matter now tightly he pulls his cloak.

“I’ve never met a half-demon before,” 2B says again. “...But if they’re anything like you…”

Her fist unlocks itself, and with uncharacteristic trepidation, she places her hand on his shoulder. 9S doesn’t anticipate just how warm it was, its gentle weight more comforting than his old coat.

“Well...I think you’re a good person.”

9S smiles, just a little, and leans into her, his head resting on her shoulder.

“...Thanks, 2B.”

[jackyjango]

Daddy dearest...

A Modern-day Powered AU!

Tags: Dadneto, enemies to friends to lovers, fickle author, author doesn't know what they're writing, or why for that matter

Charles massages his forehead again. What had started as a dull ache at the back of his head had spread over the last two hours. At this rate, it's going to turn into a full-blown migraine by the end of the day.

The first two weeks of school are always difficult. With the kids still high on energy from the summer holidays it'll take another week or so in the least for them to wind down to a schedule.

There are five new students this year-- all mutants. It should be a good thing, really-- Charles is always thrilled to have new students admitted into the school. But just not in this situation. The basketball court and the gym are under renovations, and they're short of two teachers; which means that Charles has to juggle between supervising the renovations and substituting for the said teachers. It doesn't help the fact that three of the five new students are extremely mischievous.

The naughtiest of them all is Peter Maximoff, who simply won't sit still for even for a millisecond. To make matters worse, his mutation is Superhuman Speed. At just 6, he can run three laps of the classroom in the blink of an eye. Luckily, his twin sister, Wanda is docile. She doesn't speak much with anyone who isn't her brother, but she has a bright mind when it comes to imbibing her lessons or observing her surroundings attentively. It'll take some time for her to mingle with the others, Charles understands. He'll help her if in that aspect if necessary.

Then there's Alex Summers, who's hell bent on destruction. They've already had to replace a bulletin board and a chair; and they're still in the first week of school.

Ororo gets a certain joy by scaring others with the white sparks that trickle out of her fingertips. It had been tough making her understand that such behaviour wouldn't be accepted, which only encourage her further into doubling her antics.

It's not that little Kitty is troublesome, but she needs more attention than the rest. Recently manifested, she often finds her leg getting stuck in a chair or an aimlessly batted hand caught inside a table. Calming a crying Kitty and rescuing her without injuries has, by far, not been easy.

'Please listen,’ Charles emphasises when the class collapses into a din of chatter. Peter runs to his sister and back to his chair before Charles can finish. Mort is sticking his tongue out and gazing intently at something on the table. Bright sparks of light are bursting in front of Illyana, coaxing giggles out of her.

'Class, listen!’ Charles says out forcefully, again, and picks up the bowl on the table. The new object in Charles’ hands becomes the centre of his students’ attention as they turn towards him.

‘We're going to do an activity,’ he says when the class goes quiet, ‘Each one of you will come here and pick up a chit from this bowl.’ He shakes the bowl in his hands, shuffling the chits inside. 'Once you've gone back to your place, you'll have to draw and colour whatever you think the chit says.’

To demonstrate, he picks up a chit from the bowl. 'Favourite food’, the rectangular strip of paper reads. Charles does love a good Mac and Cheese any day, but he can't draw a bowl of Mac and Cheese without making it look like abstract geometry. He settles for drawing a pizza on the board. It's what he ends up ordering nowadays, anyway. Plus, it's simpler to draw.

It earns him enthusiastic nods and energetic claps from his students.

'It’s simple, see...’ Charles says as he turns to face them. The kids are gleaming at him, eager to start. Peter is already fidgeting in his seat, struggling to sit still.  

Charles sighs. 'Peter, why don't we start with you?’

Peter has grabbed a chit and has gone back to his seat even before Charles has finished the sentence.

Following Peter's example, the others jump from their seats and make a beeline for the bowl. 'In a line… Please come in a line. One by one,’ Charles shouts over their excited chanting of 'me me me’ as he lifts the bowl higher to keep it out of the reach of their outstretched hands.

Once everyone has picked a chit and settled down in their seats around the oval table, Charles walks behind their chairs slowly.

Charles isn't aware of the contents of the chits; Theresa had been kind and had offered to make them.

Alex is sticking out his tongue and scrubbing his crayon over the paper. Ah, of course, his ‘Favourite Toy’ is a red toy gun. Darwin-- bless his creativity-- is drawing a blue house with yellow windows accompanied by an orange tree for 'My Home’. Ororo is trying and failing to draw the scales on a fish for 'My Pet’.

Just when the satisfaction of bringing out the children's creativity has begun to settle inside, Chairs spots Peter at the very end of the table.

The boy is sitting so still that for a moment Charles wonders if he's imagining things. His silver brows are pulled inwards and his thin lips seem even thinner where they're pressed together. His vision is fixed on the blank paper, his chit forgotten on the side.

Charles has never seen Peter like this. There's always a face splitting grin on his face, even when he falls down by tripping on table legs in his haste.

Charles walks towards the boy and sits down on the low stool next to him.

'Peter,’ he calls out softly and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The boy lifts his head up. His brows release revealing the blue of his eyes.

As a rule, Charles doesn't read the minds of children. The brain structure isn't completely formed, it's way more chaotic than adults’, and more prone to damage from telepathic contacts. Charles’ shields are always up during school hours. But even his shields are not effective in blocking out the waves of wariness radiating from Peter.

‘Are you having trouble drawing, darling?’ he asks softly, leaning in towards the boy.

Peter nods his head slowly.

'That's no problem, I can help you with it,’ Charles reassures him with his best smile. ‘Let's see what you've got.’ He picks up the chit from the table. 'My Mother’ it reads.

Charles doesn't understand what to make of it. Is the boy simply not able to put his thoughts into a drawing? Does he come from a broken family? Does he have an estranged mother, or God forbid, an emotionally distant one?

Peter's bottom lip is trembling when Charles turns to face him. Not wanting to presume, he says, 'Peter, why don't you tell me about your mother, and we'll see what we can draw.’

Peter is quiet for a long time, only looking up at Charles with wide eyes. Dealing with children is simultaneously simple and complicated. So Charles waits patiently running a soothing hand up and down Peter's back.

Just when Charles begins to wonder if the boy will answer at all, Peter says, 'My Vati says that my Mama is a star in the sky, and that she watches over us when we sleep.’

Of all the things Charles had expected, Peter's answer wasn't one of them. A swell of sympathy bubbles up from the bottom of his stomach. He knows all too well of what it's like to lose a parent. The kids are still so young. It's brutally unfair.

‘What else does your father tell you about her?’ (Vati is German for Father, if Charles remembers correctly)

‘He says that she loves us very much. Much more than we love her.’

Charles smiles. It's perhaps a mild relief in this unfortunate situation that the twins have a father who’s there for them. ‘I'm sure your mother loves you a lot, darling. And the two of you are very lucky to have a wonderful father.’

The listlessness on Peter's face abates and a small smile takes its place at the mention of his father. Peter nods his head quickly in answer and adds: ‘Vati is the best! He sings to us before bed. He makes us cake on our birthday. But not as good as Nana though. He can never cook asgoodasNana-’ that's the last of Peter's words Charles catches before it quickens to cover a mile per second. Though, Charles doesn't need to listen to the rest of it to have his assumption confirmed that Mr. Maximoff, is in fact, is a loving father.

An idea strikes. ‘In that case, Peter,’ Charles says when Peter finally finishes speaking. Pulling out his pen from his breast pocket, he scratches the 'Mo’ from the chit and writes a 'Fa’ on top of it. ‘Why don't we draw your father instead?’ Charles  leans in conspiratorially and whispers, ‘Now now, this is a secret between you and me, alright? So don't tell anyone.’

'Not even to Wanda?’

'Not even Wanda.’

A quick smile blooms on Peter's face. 'I can do that!’ he says and delves into sorting out his crayons.

Charles sits there for a few more minutes watching as Peter draws and erases out the frame of a stick figure. Generally, Charles makes it a point to keep a steady correspondence with the parents of all his students and meet them personally. He had missed meeting the Maximoffs on the first day of school. Mr. Maximoff had dropped in just as he had left towards the gym to meet with the contractor.

Charles makes a mental note to meet Mr. Maximoff when the latter comes to pick up the kids that day.

*

Charles smiles fondly at Peter's drawing as the boy drops it on the table in a blur of silver.

It's innocent in a way only a child's can be. Wanda, on the right, is dressed in a red frock while Peter on the left is dressed in black trousers and what Charles infers in reference to his silver hair is a silver jacket. The man in the middle-- Mr. Maximoff-- with short hair and a beard, clad in what looks like a plaid shirt and jeans is holding both their hands. All three are smiling, Mr. Maximoff excessively so, baring all his sharp teeth in a wide grin.

Charles knows that Peter is exaggerating, but strangely, that smile reminds Charles of his adversary from high school.

Charles isn't one to use that term loosely, nor he is the one to have adversaries to begin with. But if anyone had come close to meaning half of it, it was Erik Magnus Lehnsherr.

Even after all these years… Charles cuts his thoughts short.

He looks down at the sheet again. Mr. Maximoff, he reminds himself. He should meet with Mr. Maximoff after school.

-

[mootmuse]

dbh fic, 2898 words. hankcon-ish. 

Set around a year post good ending, about a month after Hank has hit a (vague and not specified in this fic) particularly low point. Hank is starting to try and make some changes. He and Connor talk about it.

a03 link

Connor looks over and watches Hank as he crosses the living room and drops down onto the couch. He’d been wanting to watch Hank since he’d heard Hank’s car pull up in front of the house, to watch the direction of him, but he’d been conscious of how that would make Hank feel, conscious of Hank’s hatred of feeling vulnerable, of how much Hank’s likely already felt that way today.

Connor’d restrained himself, and now that Hank is moving close to him, he gets to look.

“How was it?” he asks, unable to help himself. It’s a pleasant surprise when Hank genuinely seems to consider the question.

“I don’t know,” Hank says finally, slowly, running his tongue across his teeth. “It was… I don’t know. Pretty different from the other time. You know-” Hank meets Connor’s eyes for a second, and then he looks away. -few years ago.”

Connor waits. He watches Hank think about it, in a silent moment where they both ignore the noise of the television.

“He didn’t make me talk about, uh… any of the shit,” Hank goes on, sounding thoughtful, a little baffled. “Said I could talk about it if I wanted to. Didn’t seem like he gave a shit when I didn’t. We talked about you instead.”

Hank rolls his head to the side to look at Connor, but Connor doesn’t let himself ask. This is about Hank, not Connor - not even about what Hank might truly think about him, desperately as Connor wishes he could ask.

“Is that not typical?” Connor asks instead, as questions about Hank are the priority. “Do they usually expect you to talk about your… experiences in the first appointment?”

Connor doesn’t call it ‘trauma’. He wants to, because trauma is what it is. The fact that humans have psychological reactions to certain stimuli should be a straightforward one, a simple thing to speak aloud.

But Hank, Connor’s learned, is anything but simple. Emotions themselves, he knows, are anything but simple, but Connor doesn’t like thinking about his own emotions even now, most of a year after technically embracing them. He likes thinking about Hank instead.

Perhaps he understands Hank’s behavior now a little bit better than he used to.

Perhaps he shouldn’t talk around it, shouldn’t call them ‘experiences’ in the stead of the truer word he wants to use. North certainly wouldn’t. But it’s a good time to placate Hank, to be gentle with him, to adapt to what Hank wants in order to avoid provoking him. Then again, it often seems like a good time for doing that.

Connor’d thought about that quite a bit after Hank had made the declaration that’d led to this therapy appointment in the first place, after he’d said if Connor was so fucking determined to bury himself under Hank’s bullshit at least one of them ought to know what enabling meant, at least one of them ought to fucking do something about it, and he’d sounded angry when he’d said it, a thin layer of anger fitting badly atop a great deal of fear.

It’s hard, Connor’s found. Hard to dig through the memory files of his past behavior with Hank, find the times he’d annoyed the man deliberately or refused his orders, and flag that behavior as not enough, as not having been employed when it’d truly counted. Enabling. He knows what that means, now, a little better than he used to. A little better than he wants to.

Connor hasn’t said aloud that he misses being only a machine, although he likes to think that Hank already knows. Things had been simpler, when adapting to Hank’s mood swings and bad habits had been the right thing simply because it’d been necessary to complete his mission. That’d changed at some point, the rightness of it, but Connor hadn’t noticed when it’d happened.

“I don’t know,” Hank says, and Connor rewinds his memory just far enough to remind himself where their conversation’d been going. What kind of behavior is normal for a psychologist to expect in their client’s first appointment.

“I don’t remember, uh,” Hank goes on and Connor, specifically designed to note the most minute unsteadiness in a voice’s tone, notes it here, “the first time I went to someone like that. I was kinda, kinda out of it. So I don’t know, maybe it’s normal. Still feels weird, though, I was expecting it to be this big… you know, a big thing. A big deal.”

Hank’s more talkative than Connor expected, and Connor wonders whether he should call the good doctor up himself and ask him for a few tips. For now, he doesn’t want to risk calling too much attention to Hank’s urge to share by saying anything himself. Instead he watches Hank, spends the seconds between speech studying the minute changes in Hank’s expression, the look in Hank’s eyes, the play of light flowing over the peaks and valleys in his face and the precise degree each shadow changes while Hank reorganizes all his thoughts.  

“It helped, you know,” Hank says, after eight-point-three-five seconds. “Drinking. I know it, it- But it helped. It still… It still hurt, I guess, but it made it easier to hurt. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just… I miss it. Fuck, I miss it.”

Did Hank say this in his appointment too? Did he say these things out loud for the first time in a far away room where Connor couldn’t hear? Or was he quiet, sharing little, slowly losing the pressure that he’d felt to speak until he came home and shared these private truths first and foremost with Connor?

Connor knows which option he prefers. Little as he likes thinking on emotion, he knows the sharp, selfish pleasure that drives that thought to be pride.

Connor watches Hank. Connor has a way of watching people, listening - an expectant way of doing it that seldom fails to crack a subject sitting across the interview table. Not that Connor needs it now, he supposes - Hank seems like he’d go on talking all on his own.

“I told him I didn’t stop for me. Thought he’d get on my ass for that too, but he didn’t.”

It takes Connor a moment to judge just how to respond. “Thank you,” he decides, and Hank’s expression twists in distaste.

“Don’t fucking thank me, jesus. After what I put you through. I should of given it up the moment you first moved in with me, I should of fucking known better.” Hank leans an elbow on the arm of the couch and leans away from Connor, looking at the floor. “I don’t want to get better,” he goes on, in a flat voice. “I still don’t. You’ve got a right to know that. You both oughta know it.”

Connor watches him. He wants to touch, to soothe, but Hank’s vulnerable underbelly is a maze of sore spots, of pain and sensitive things, and reaching out too far too quickly might tread on one of them, snapping this honest vulnerability shut up into anger in an instant. Connor, he decides, wants to be present for this moment more than he wants the risk of ending it.

“But you’re trying anyway,” Connor says, cautious and quiet.

“Yeah,” Hank says, gaze distant. “Yeah. I’m not doing it for me.” He looks over back at Connor, the drooping slant of his eyes looking intense, intent in the low light. “I really thought that’d be it, y’know. Thought he’d kick me out when I told him that. Don’t know why. I guess, uh- I guess it’d be easier than quitting, if he did that. Then I could just stop going, come back, tell you I tried, and then… I don’t know.” Hank takes a deep breath and runs a hand over the lines of his face, the gesture as slow and heavy as the tone of his voice. “I don’t fucking know.”

A moment passes.

“What did he say?” Connor asks, adding a clarification off the inquisitive noise Hank makes in the back of his throat, off Hank’s expression, his look of a man surprised away from some deep, dark undertow of thought. “When you told him you weren’t going for your own sake? What did he tell you?”

“He said that was a start,” Hank says simply, and his lips tilt up into a wry and doubtful smile. “Something to build on or, you know, some kinda shit like that.”

“You don’t believe it is?”

Hank shrugs and looks away, his lips pressing tight together. “I don’t know, I just…  I guess... I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Okay? Just don’t, don’t-”

Hank purses his lips, hand wrapping around the edge of the couch. He swallows.

Connor weighs the risks. The weight of the expression on Hank’s face, the misery in him, tips the scale of Connor’s risk assessment over. He leans, and his hand finds the back of Hank’s neck as Hank’s hand has always found the back of his, those times when Connor is scared, or lost, or struggling with emotions which are too much, too painful to try and name. His voice is gentle, and firm, and very sure.

“If there’s one thing I”ve had to learn,” Connor says, “It’s that I can’t map out what’s going to happen tomorrow. I can’t plan out every little aspect of my future until I suck the fun right out of everything.”

Not that that last part’s particularly relevant but Connor changes the tone and shape of his words there just enough to echo protests Hank’s made in the past, to reference exasperated, argumentative moments which seem warm now in Connor’s memory. “You made sure that I learned that,” Connor adds, and sees the memories are warm for Hank, too, and he mirrors the faint, tired smile the memory sends drifting up over Hank’s face.

“I don’t expect anything, Hank. I’m just proud of you.” Connor’s eyes move over Hank’s face for a moment, and he decides to reinforce the statement. “I’m proud of you,” he says firmly, emphasizing every word to better etch them in against the biased cruelties of human memory. He wants Hank to remember, to understand.

And Hank does. He swallows again and his eyes move away, and Connor keeps watching instead of following the track of his gaze. He watches Hank’s nostrils flare as his breathing goes rough.

Connor holds the moment, until Hank starts to lean away. Then he leans back, hand sliding down safe back to his side again. He gives Hank a moment more, silent.

“You must be hungry,” Connor says, in a tone so casual that Hank’s eyes flicker back up to him, the difference between this statement and the last feeling like a weight lifted. Connor raises his eyebrows, looks attentive. “Would you like me to make you a meal?”

“Uh…” Hank’s voice is rough and he’s slow to answer, but he does answer. Connor observes Hank’s posture, watches him start to pull back together all his splayed out edges.

“Yeah, sure,” Hank says. “I guess.”

“Make it yourself.” Connor says it bluntly, his eyes warm, the corners of his lips turned up in a calculated percentage, just close enough to and just far enough away from a smile.

Hank’s surprised into a breathy snicker, the struggle on his face curled into humor, and Connor’s carefully calculated smile grows wide before he tries to tell it to.

“You fucker,” Hank says appreciatively and leans forward to swing himself up from the couch, stepping over Sumo and making a point of kicking at Connor’s legs as he goes. Connor smiles after him, at the way he lumbers across the room and into the kitchen, at the way he leans on the door of the refrigerator while he stares down into it. Hank’s seeing the beers that used to be in there, Connor knows, cold and waiting for him.

“On second thought, let’s order something,” Connor decides. “My treat.”

“Your treat,” Hank echoes derisively, straightening up and leaning back against the counter. “What’s the treat, you getting to lecture me about calories and how much grease I’m pumping into my arteries the whole time I try to eat?”

Connor hesitates, his eyebrows pulling together with a hint of a frown, and Hank’s gaze focuses on him. Connor pulls up the relevant files, a preplanned apology, an explanation that’s taken him over a week to puzzle through.

“I… regret that behavior,” he starts, slowly. “When I learned doing that didn’t change your eating habits I should have stopped. Instead I put more pressure on you, and only ended up making your… troubles… worse.”

“Don’t you fuckin blame yourself for my shit,” Hank says, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s my responsibility, not yours. It’s not up to you to fuckin manage me.”

“No, I know that,” Connor says, because telling the truth would likely derail the conversation into a place that Connor doesn’t want it to go. He has a plan here, an apology that he’s decided it’s the right time to make, and he doesn’t mean to see that sidetracked.

“I only meant that… I was trying to exert control over a situation that couldn’t be controlled. Your other habits were too… important to you, but I wanted to change something. I wanted to help.”

Hank’s arms tense around himself and he looks away, expression tightening. Connor goes on, hurrying to get in front of the guilt settling over Hank’s face.

“But I don’t need to any more.”

“What?” Hank frowns, confused.

“I don’t feel the need to change your habits any more, Hank. You’re doing that yourself.”

“Connor I told you, don’t get your fuckin hopes up, okay? Just cause I spent an hour getting stared at by some asshole with a psych degree doesn’t mean everything’s gonna change. I’m still-”

He stops, looking away with a slow, unhappy breath, lips pursed.

“That’s not what I mean either, Hank.” Connor leans forward, looking at Hank as intently as Hank is looking away. “You told me all of....” He pauses, skimming his memory files. “All of twenty three times just last week some variation on the same concept: that I should go easier on myself, that nobody’s perfect, that I can’t be expected to solve every problem. Why does that apply to me but not to you?”

Hank breathes a laugh. Connor doesn’t know if it’s an honest laugh or a dangerous one, but when Hank looks at him again his expression’s wry. “You should join some kinda debate club, you know that?”

Connor finds himself smiling a little, pleased at both the compliment and the success implied within it. “I’ll order from the place you mentioned last month,” he says, leaning back into the couch. “The one that just opened. They have some desserts on their menu I think you’ll like to try.”

Hank stares at him for a moment. He huffs down at himself and then ambles back over, leaning a hip on side of the couch. “You might wanna take that whole apology thing back before I decide to hold you to it. You let me eat like this all the time and I’m gonna gain like, a million pounds.”

“I don’t expect that to be a problem. Your typical nutrient intake hasn’t affected your level of fitness yet, especially now you’ve cut alcohol out of your diet. In fact you perform the physical aspects of your job remarkably well, considering your age and lack of exercise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Besides, the treat for me is that I get to watch you eat.” Connor expected that to get him exactly the expression that Hank is giving him right now and so he bears it, unperturbed. “I like to catalogue what your expression looks like when you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’ve already ordered the food.”

Hank makes a brief, amused noise and slips past Connor to settle back onto the couch. “You’re kind of a weird little shit, you know that?”

“You did encourage me to take up hobbies.”

“My face is not a hobby.”

“All you told me was to find something that made me happy and do it. I’m only following your recommendation, lieutenant.”

Hank’s eyebrows rise and he looks at Connor, amused and incredulous, and after a couple seconds he turns to the television and turns its volume up, shaking his head. After a couple seconds more he glances over at Connor again and then snorts, picking up the nearest throwable thing - a clump of Sumo’s shed hairs - and tosses it, watching it float in the air toward Connor’s general direction.

“Cut it out, you’re makin me feel like I got something in my teeth,” he says, and sprawls out, and nudges the side of Connor’s shoe with the side of his own, and doesn’t move it back afterward. Connor leans a little toward him and looks toward the television, feeling more settled than he has all day - more than he has for months. More settled, more relieved, more proud. He settles back into the couch, following Hank’s gaze toward the television, and watches the room out of the corners of his eyes, happy to try and name his own emotion, just this once.

[cremedelacremefanfic]

Crème de la Crème: 35.

Ashton

“So you did all that just to prove a fucking point?” Evie asked as we hobbled out her party

No one seemed to notice. August was too busy fussing on the phone, Sean was too busy being the life of the party, I hadn’t seen Aaron in about an hour and everyone else we came with left so my and Evie’s exit went smoothly.

I nodded with my head tucked into her neck “You shouldn’t be so damn complicated.” I murmured inhaling her scent

It was definitely one that I missed. Her skin always had a sweet scent lingering on it. That was one of the aspects that made cutting her off so hard to me. I would get one whiff of Evie and want to be up under her all day.

“Did you even consider my feelings while you were trying out here trying to prove your stupid little point?” she asked

“Did you consider mine every time you were on your bullshit?” I asked

“You’re so full of shit” she kissed her teeth

“Yeah, but you still fucking with me though,” I said as I placed a kiss on her  collarbone

“Sadly.”

Caressing her thighs, I kissed her again “Come home with me?” I asked

Her eyes rolled, probably thinking I was trying to run game “How come you get to have an Airbnb and we have hotel rooms?“ She asked, "I like big spaces, plus I’m the boss so I make the rules.” I kissed her neck “So, you gonna come back with me? I wanna show you your present.”  I said as my car pulled up

She turned in my arms, a smile spreading across her beautiful face “You bought me a present?” She asked with her eyes wide. I guess she wasn’t expecting a nigga to buy her anything. 

“Of course.” I matched her smile

She looked at my car, that was now parked in front of us. She nibbled on her bottom lip, looking around. I knew she was contemplating going home with me.

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” She shook her head as she pulled away from me.

I kissed my teeth “What do you mean ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’?” I mocked her voice. “What’s to think about?” 

She squinted her eyes “What’s the big deal? I’m not going home with you plain and simple. I don’t owe you anything, you’re not my man and you don’t have any jurisdiction as my boss on this vacation.”

She was getting on my nerves, there was no need for her to be acting like this. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere with this girl she pulls some shit like this.

I scoffed “This the same energy that put us in this position in the first place.” I said

"Ashton stop, you did that bullshit because you thought I was one of these little bobblehead bitches that your little mind games usually work on.” she chuckled “And you know what? I just realized that you would do anything just to get between my legs. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why we’re friends just so you can fuck.”

Shocked wasn’t even a word that I could use right now. She really had me drawn out to be this fucked up ass individual. Did I want to fuck her brains out?

Yes. However, I wasn’t in it to just get between her legs and skate.

Contrary to popular belief I did consider shorty to be my friend. I didn’t even know why she thought any different. 

“We back at this shit again?” I asked “If you feel like I’m just trying to fuck then why you here? Why were you so quick to run back in my arms if you been knew that pussy was all that I wanted?” I asked

Her nostrils flared “You’re absolutely right, you remember that energy you had when we first met? Let’s go back to that, fuck you Ashton.” she said and pushed passed me

I tried to stop her from leaving “C’mon, Eve do-”

“Fuck you!” she said over her shoulder as she stuck up her middle finger

I ran after her and grabbed her arm. "You’re the one who’s always fucking tripping, I told you I liked you and y--"

"Ashton, get the fuck off me! You always wanna throw that “I like you” bullshit in my face to satisfy me but that shit isn't working anymore! You wanna sleep with me and that's all the fuck you ever wanted!" She interrupted me, shouting

"’Cause that's not wha-"

"For the rest of this trip please just leave me the fuck alone. Let's go back to not liking and giving a fuck about each other since that's what works best for us. Leave me alone and I damn sure will return the favor."

“Well, I can’t do that,” I said firmly

She scoffed “What Lil’ rich boy? From the time you popped out of your mother, you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted at the drop of a dime and when you realized you couldn’t have me you opted to play with my fucking emotions and I almost let you and that’s why it’s fuck you for life, Ashton.” was the last thing she said before turning around and storming off to god knows where. I didn't even know how we got here, but the shit was ridiculous.

If she thought this was over, she had no idea what she was in for these next couple of days.

Evie

“You can’t stay cooped up in your suite for the whole trip, did what he said bother you that damn much?” Tish asked

“Yes, Tish!” I groaned

Regardless of how angry I was, none of that anger was aimed towards Ashton, I was angry at myself. Ashton, the only feeling I felt towards him was hurt. He didn’t understand how small his words made me feel.

I was quick to run back into his arms because I wanted what we have, or had to be real.

“Don’t you feel like you just overreacting? Just a little bit?” I looked at her incredulously

I thought if anyone would understand where I was coming from it would be my best fucking friend.

“No, I don’t think I'm overreacting. You know what, I’ll talk to you later, bye.” I said “No, Evie do-” I cut off our Facetime before she was able to finish her sentence and tossed my phone to the side.

I blew air out. I wasn’t prepared to go back to Ashton and I being so hostile towards each other like we were in the beginning but, if I were honest, times were simpler.

It’s hard dealing with all these feelings when I didn’t know where his feelings for me stood. It’s like I never get to see the side of him like the night we opened up to each other in Malibu, I always got the Ashton in the bathroom at the Christmas party and I wasn’t okay with that, it just took me too long to realize that.

I was too busy being smitten by his charming ways and that vicious tongue but last night made me realize that I didn’t have to deal with it.

Looking at the jeans I wore yesterday hanging on the frame of my bed, I crawled over to it and took the business card out of my back pocket.

Flicking the card, I quickly went over to the hotel phone and dialed the number that was on it.

It rang a few times before there was an answer “Hello? Rick Gonzalez speaking.” his smooth voice floated through the phone

“Rick? Hi, it’s Evie, um are you busy today? I wanted to take you up on offer.” I said

He chuckled “You’re stuck in your suite again?” he asked

I laughed “Not quite, I just wanted to take you up on your offer.” I said

“Well Ms. Summers, put on your best bathing suit and meet me in the lobby in an hour.” 

“Deal.”

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

“You look amazing,” Rick said as his eyes wandered over my body. I smiled and looked away towards the beautiful ocean. The water was amazing, it was so clean and very blue. 

I smiled. “Why, thank you handsome.” I flirted back. He showed his beautiful smile by grinning widely. this man was so damn fine, it was almost unreal how fine he was. 

My eyes drifted from his and landed on the waves crashing against each other, taking in the beautiful scenery. The ocean was absolutely breath taking right now. The sun was going down so the sunset beamed off the ocean. 

 “You know, I’m shocked that a woman as beautiful as you and of your caliber is single,” Rick spoke softly as his arm wrapped around my waist, pulled me from my deep thoughts. 

“Well believe it,” I said as I looked up at him as he looked off to the side. 

“You’re friends are coming this way.” He whispered lowly in my ear, his sexy accent turning me on in ways I never felt before. My head snapped back to the guys walking over this way. Sean and Ashton had a look of confusion that turned into anger. 

I understood Sean looks because he was always in big brother mode and refused to let me be around any men outside of our little clique. However, I didn’t see why Ashton ass had a frown on his fuckin’ face considering the fact that he didn’t even want me in that way.

That shit was still fuckin’ with me, I didn’t know why it was messing with me like this. I had feelings for his ass and I wished that they would just go the hell away. I needed to get over this man and the best way to get him off my mind is getting to know Rick fine ass. 

“What y’all out here?” Ashton questioned once he caught up with us. As soon as he opened his mouth I rolled my eyes at his annoying ass. Where was Adrienne doormat ass when you needed her.

He didn’t need to question me, I wasn’t his woman.

“Don’t answer that, that’s none of his business.” I snapped as Ashton glared at me. I grabbed Rick’s hand and lead him towards the water. 

I came to have a good time, If I knew that the guys were coming out here I would have Rick take me somewhere else. Bad enough I feel like these niggas always keeping tabs on me. 

Not to mention I didn’t want to have shit to do with Ashton at this moment. I just wanted to have fun with Rick, and that’s exactly what I’m about to do. I’m not letting these niggas ruin my fun, and that’s a fact. 

Ashton:

I was pissed, nah fuck that, I was fuming right now. I watched Eve with this Spanish ass nigga, Rick. His hands were all over her and that shit was pissing me off even more. I knew Eve was being petty just to get back at me but she was taking this shit too far. 

To add fuel to the fire, she was out here looking good as fuck with this little ass bathing suit on, the little cover up she wore over it was not doing what it was made for. Her ass on full display and letting this nigga touch her ass. 

My eyes were glued to them, watching their every move. I didn’t give a fuck if I looked like a damn stalker, I wasn’t taking my eyes off of her. Evie really was out here tripping.

She just knew that I was just trying to fuck her when that shit wasn’t the damn case. I really did like the girl, but in the mind of hers, I was all about playing her. 

I noticed that Evie had walked away from her Cubano boyfriend and I took this as my opportunity to walk over to Rick for a chat. As I approached him he wore a sly smirk on his face. “What’s up Ashton?”

“Evie is what’s up,” I said cutting straight to the chase

“What about her?” He asked crossing his arms across his chest

“Well, that’s my girl.” He cocked his head to the side and glared at me. “I know, she probably told you that she was single but she’s not. We just aren’t seeing eye to eye right now, so she’s playing this little stupid game.”

“But she sai--”

“I know what she said, but listen to me, you seem like a good dude and I don’t want you to get caught up in our shit. That’s an engaged woman, I just didn’t want to blow her spot up in front of everyone.” I said

“What do you mean?” he asked

“I mean, that’s my fiancée. We’re planning on getting married in the winter time. We’ve been together for five years with twins at home. Before this trip, we got caught up in some bullshit and she’s been doing petty shit to get back at me ever since and honestly, I would hate for you to be sucked into our bullshit because of her shenanigans.” I told him in the sincerest voice I could muster up. 

He mouthed a “wow” before rubbing his head “My bad Ashton, I didn’t know that was your wife to be. I’m going to step off.” 

“Thanks, man and I am sorry that’s she’s doing this right now. You know how women can get when they’re trying to get back at you.” I said

“Yeah, trust me, I know.” he nodded

“Thanks for understanding, man.” we slapped hands and I walked off chuckling

[snoringhq]

Review of the Optimum Sleep Workout for Snoring

If you’re anything like me, you’ll do whatever it takes to reduce both the severity and the frequency of your snoring.

When I came across the Optimum Sleep Workout, I was initially skeptical. Could exercise be the final cure for snoring? To find out, I put the product to the ultimate test and dived headfirst into the Optimum Sleep Workout’s 8-week program.

A comprehensive system

While it doesn’t come cheap at $106, the Optimum Sleep Workout is a physician-backed comprehensive system that is clearly designed to gradually increase in intensity. Don’t let the word workout scare you! The workout aspect of this is minimal in gym terms and while it can be considered yoga for your mouth, it is no way exhausting – which is great because it means anyone can do it regardless of their physical condition.

A gentle first week

The 8-week program is divided up into four cycles, with each cycle consisting of 2 weeks. In the first cycle, weeks 1 and 2, you start off gently exercising 4 days a week. In week 1, you simply complete 5 exercises as directed and then complete the second set to finish it off.

Clearly described workouts…

Week 1 introduces you to simpler exercises, which pop up over the course of the workout plan. The great thing about each exercise is that it tells you how to do it in detail and explains why it is important. Sometimes the descriptions can be a bit technical, for example in the Tongue Jolt exercise which is designed to strengthen the genioglossus and hyoid.

…But sometimes a bit technical

However, sometimes the exercises get a bit technical and hard to understand in practice. This is where the videos help and demonstrate exactly how to do the exercise.

Stepping it up week by week

In week two, the days of the week change which is great because that ensures you don’t get fixed into a specific routine. The number of exercises also jumps up to 6, but still two reps. Three reps are advised for weeks 3 and 4, where you are allocated 7 and 8 exercises respectively. The first week in cycle 3 takes it up a notch with 8 exercises across four sets, followed by week six where you complete the same. The final cycle, weeks 7 and 8 lead you to your final goal of completing a whopping 10 exercises across five sets.

20 minutes a day

Completing 10 exercises in five sets may sound like a lot, but it is designed to be completed in as little as 20 minutes a day. If you’re busy, you could easily fit it into your work break, as a quick after work cool down, or as part of your morning routine if you feel like waking up earlier. Be warned: initially, these exercises will make you laugh and you can’t help but make noise when saying “ahhh” over and over!

Like yoga, the exercises must be performed in sequence to be effective because they target related areas and strengthen them with a proven step-by-step technique.

Monitor with apps

Although not a product of the Optimum Sleep Workout, the company recommends customers download the SnoreLab app to monitor snoring. As I’ve mentioned in previous reviews, I was impressed with SnoreLab’s insight into my snoring habits. The initial app is free, but the Premium app is required to get the full benefit of tracking which allows you to see improvements you have made. Keep this in mind if you intend to purchase the Optimum Sleep Workout, as the extra investment will pay off.

Motivation to improve

Coupled with the Optimum Sleep Workout, the SnoreLab app will give you the motivation to improve your sleep habits. By simply browsing the SnoreLab app, you can come across a wide variety of anti-snoring remedies which you may or may not have tried.

This includes CPAP, a mouthpiece, side sleeping, a tongue retainer, nasal strips, nasal dilators, nasal sprays, throat sprays, wedge pillows, air purifiers, humidifiers, surgery, positional therapy, anti-snore pillows, a neti pots, allergy relief, and chin straps.

Awareness of contributing issues

You can also see which lifestyle choices or compounding issues may contribute to your snoring, such as excess weight, alcohol consumption, a blocked nose, exhaustion, heavy meals, sedatives, dehydration, smoking, or ingesting caffeine.

Plenty of positive reviews

Voted the number one snoring solution of 2018, optimum sleep boasts an incredible number of reviews. With 98% user satisfaction, plenty of customers repeatedly state it exceeded their expectations. For a natural, non-invasive snoring solution this is promising news.

In addition to glowing reviews from existing customers, who enjoy lifetime access to the product with a single payment, the website boasts multiple reviews from medical professionals who agree wholeheartedly that targeted exercise is the best approach to reducing snoring.

Generous money back guarantee

With a high rate of user satisfaction, this allows the company to offer a very generous 60-day money back guarantee. Unlike other products, you don’t have to take the risk your money will be wasted should it not work out for you.

In 60 days, you can try the majority of the program and then decide if you’d like to proceed through to the full 8 weeks. From the statistics, it looks like most customers were satisfied enough with their reduction in snoring as seen in recorded statistics, which you can view on their website, to continue with the plan.

My experience

I bought the Optimum Sleep Workout and promptly tried week one’s exercise series. Thankfully, I found them to be relatively easy to perform which is great. However, I found the instructions hard to understand in places. In my opinion, this program has the potential to transform snoring, but I think it should be combined with a general exercise program as well as weight loss for maximum, long-lasting effects.

The downside of this is you must be exceptionally motivated to stick to the plan. You must ensure you take the time to do the exercises according to the schedule, in the correct order, with the correct posture and technique. ,

If you don’t want an invasive snoring therapy device such as a mouthpiece or CPAP, this is the perfect solution. The 60-day money guarantee gave me confidence when buying the product, so if you think you’re ready to take on the challenge you have nothing to lose, except perhaps your double-chin, by signing up today.

The post Review of the Optimum Sleep Workout for Snoring appeared first on Snoring HQ.

[paler-than-thou]

Odds for Fianna and evens for Hailin and all the letters for both. Long one but do it 83

Oh holy shit, Anon XD

Gonna do actual Ultimate Canon versions of these two, so @koto056 will probably be the only one to find this interesting 8D well, except you, Anon, unless you are actually Koto in disguise *eyeballs*

OK SO THIS IS GOING UNDER A CUT TO SAVE Y’ALL’S DASHES BECAUSE THIS IS LONG.

F I A N N A (The Black Alchemist)

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

About 5 minutes. Fianna is always moving, fidgeting, making, destroying, building, anything other than just...nothing. He can’t hack being bored or still.

3.How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Hah. He doesn’t sleep unless he passes out, mostly. He actively avoids it, but if he absolutely has to, he’ll read. And read. And read. And then give up and get back up again. It helps that he’s not exactly mortal or human, so generally unless he’s in a physical form he doesn’t need to sleep.

5.How easy is it to earn their mistrust?

Very. It takes a lot of work to get him to trust you, and very little for that trust to be broken, and he doesn’t do second chances.

7.What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Very little, because unless he’s in a certain area of the plane he represents, he doesn’t really remember being alive or having a past. For the eons he’s been the Alchemist, however, he and his opposite sit reminiscing for simpler times over regular cups of tea.

9.Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

Like a sailor, and nope.

11.How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

Badly. If it’s one thing the Alchemist has it’s a rock-solid kind of certainty about everything, despite being the Aspect of Chaos and avatar of the Abyss. There are patterns, no matter how chaotic, and there are Rules that even the two Aspects have to follow. If he gets confused, then something is Not Right With The Multiverse (never with him, he’s always perfect, right?) and it makes him grouchy and more than a little bitchy.

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Black, and yes. Honestly, he can make anything look good no matter what it is, but black is generally his instinctive go-to colour. He makes bad jokes about how it hides the blood from sacrifices.

15.How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Usually on the spot. He’s a very quick thinker, and given to adapting easily to any change at all - the upside to being the Master of Chaos and a manipulator. It does have its downsides though, in that sometimes he should really think about what he’s saying before he says it when the situation doesn’t ask for quick-thinking or a silver tongue.

17.Are they easily embarrassed?

Oh god, no. 

19.What is their favorite number?

Pi, because he’s an awkward asshole.

21.Why do they get up in the morning?

To keep the universe from exploding, if you asked him. Mostly to see what trouble he can cause and to stop the Beyond from destroying his and his opposite’s magnum opus.

23.How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?

Usually as confusion, when he (eventually) starts to feel the emotion. Him and the Metatron aren’t supposed to be able to feel emotions, at least not on a mortal level, so when he starts envying his creations, mostly it comes out as ‘what the hell is this’ and frustration that he doesn’t understand.

25.What are their thoughts on marriage?

Waste of time and effort, unless it serves a purpose. Can’t understand why mortals would do it, but is endlessly amused they found a way to turn love into a legally-binding contract.

27.What causes them to feel dread?

Not much, except the impending manifestation of the Beyond coming to wreck his shit.

29.Do they usually live up to their own ideals?

He doesn’t have any, really. He lives very much in the present and future and his ideals will change with mood/events/the wind, so I suppose in that respect he kind of does? He’s never still and he hates stagnation, and he sees having fixed ideals as a sign of it. In other words, he’s true Chaotic XD

31. Who are they the most glad to have met?

It’s a toss-up between Metatron (his opposite) and Mathaar (Master of the Gates). Out of the beings/people he’s created, he’s most ‘glad’ to have got to know his Eternal of Death, Hailin (AKA his second in command).

33.Could they be considered lazy?

Nope, as much as he does a lot to make his job as easy as possible (to him, to everyone else it just seems to complicate matters) the Alchemist is very much not lazy.

35.How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

He doesn’t exactly have ‘friends’, though he’s very supportive of Mathaar’s ‘little adventures’ while finding them a source of amusement and gossip with his opposite. He doesn’t really know how to be supportive - what he does with his creations would be more like manipulation. This means he can have spectacular insert-foot-in-mouth moments, and is left going ‘What did I do?’

37.Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Nope. He’s a god, with perfect memory.

39.How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

Depends on the flaw. There are some things that get his back right up - Ascari’s know-it-all attitude and anyone’s patronisation comes to mind, and he expects respect - or fear, either one - from those who are aware of what he is (though only if he’s actually earned it, he has issues with getting undeserved respect) - but as he tends to attract the misfits and the flawed to his side he is probably one of the most tolerant things in the entire multiverse.

41.How do they feel about children?

He regards his creations as his ‘children’, and has also occasionally fathered/borne children for his and his opposite’s Games. As the Alchemist, he’s unmoved by them and regards them mostly as pawns, but as his very mortal side Fianna he’s very much all about being a good father-figure and absolutely adores kids.

43.If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

“Sex is nothing more than a tool.” How do you assign a sexuality to something that is a manifestation of a state of being? He doesn’t have one in the same respect as a mortal would, though as Fianna, he’d state pansexual. The Final World they’ve created has all manners of species on, and his only rule is ‘able to - and above the age of - consent in their species’. 

Letters:

A) Why are you excited about this character?

The Alchemist is one of my longest-standing RP characters and one that has spawned SO MANY RPs XD He’s a lot of fun to play and a challenge, despite being close to me as a person in attitude. I love getting inside his head and under his skin.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I’m not actually sure. I created him as a story character and when we started expanding on the story, I sorta plonked him in as what amounted to an NPC at the time. He was a plot-pivot, something that occasionally turned up to sort something out, and slowly he pretty much gained sentience and started getting more and more involved.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

Oh god no. The character has a habit of changing any story he’s in to fit around him, not the other way round. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not XD

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

Pretty much. It’s evolved and refined over the years but it’s mostly the same as it was when I first dragged him up. He’s gained a few scars and lost a few extra details he didn’t need, but yeah.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

I...honestly don’t know. I mean the Aspect side of him, hell no. He’d infuriate me endlessly and his arrogance would wind me the hell up. His mortal side? Probably. He’s very close to me as a person, as I said, and he’s someone I’d want to protect. As to whether or not either side would get on with me? Pfft, fuck knows, he’s the Aspect of Chaos for a reason.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Bit of excitement, bit of trepidation, bit of pride. Excitement because I love writing/playing him, trepidation because I want to get him as true to himself and what’s in my head as I can, pride because he’s lasted so long and come so far without me cocking him up too much.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

A lot of them, honestly. He has a very complicated and fluid moral compass and it doesn’t really match up to mine, and he’s not exactly bothered about people. If he were human, he’d pretty much be clocked as a psychopath within minutes of meeting him, and as a god it’s elevated to a terrifying level. He’s not really got many redeeming qualities at first, though they are there...just very, very hidden.

H) What trait do you admire most?

His sheer determination. He doesn’t let anything stop him from getting his goal, and if something tries, he pauses, works out how to deal with it and then just keeps on going. That and his ability to actually ask for help and to offer it to those few he considers ‘friends’.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Hell no! All the AUs!

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

Nope. Could say the Canon wouldn’t exist without him. Meta!

H A I L I N (The Eternal of Death)

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

Depends. He’s not really one for laughter, or emotion really, though as some will point out his little snorts are practically belly-laughs for him.

4.How easy is it to earn their trust?

It’s not. At all. He’s slow to trust, the only exceptions being when someone else he trusts implicitly has stated that whoever it is is worthy of it. Once he does trust, though, he is incredibly fiercely loyal.

6.Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

Flexible as hell and more of a hindrance than a help. This includes laws of nature. Can’t be a Necromancer and adhere to them, really...

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child?

Probably to stop swapping places with his identical twin. They did that a lot.

10.What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?

Hailin lies a lot sometimes. It comes of being the Alchemist’s second in command and being almost as manipulative as him. He refuses to lie to those he cares about - omit the truth, but that’s it. He couldn’t name a lie he remembers the most, and it never haunts him, unless he had to lie to someone he loved *coughEnglaeveuscough*. That particular one will haunt him til his final days.

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

Frown, bitch at Veus about it, get it scratched. That or use his magic to get it.

14.What animal do they fear most?

Hailin really isn’t afraid of most physical things. He dislikes horses, though he’s a good rider, and he’s not truly afraid of anything - why should he be when he can simply drain the life out of it?

16.What makes their stomach turn?

Again, not much. Torturing children, for some reason, really bothers him despite his penchant for breaking innocents. Probably something to do with his upbringing ¬¬

18. What embarrasses them?

The fact he’s so tiny and when people discover he cares for someone. He doesn’t like emotion much.

20.If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

“Romantic is my love for Veus. Platonic is my love for Bilai, and familial is my love for my adopted parents.” He’s not great at explaining emotion, mostly confused by it as he’s really not good at expressing it either, so he’d have to use examples of the people he knew to break it down - and even then some of those lines are blurred.

22.How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Luckily Hailin doesn’t get jealous very much, because he is as possessive as fuck. It would be very easy, if it weren’t for other factors, for him to become close to abusive - but luckily a) he can’t be passive-aggressive if he tried and b) he can’t bring himself to hurt the people he loves like that. It’s his brother that has the issues with jealousy.

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?

Oh god yes. He can be gloriously TMI about it sometimes and flirts with most things - despite his leanings and who he serves Hailin is a very sexual person. Even dead. 

26.What is their preferred mode of transportation?

Either teleportation or his beloved soul-bike. He likes engines of all kinds, and his bike is his baby.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

No. He hates being lied to or manipulated.

30.Who do they most regret meeting?

This one is...complicated. On his really bad moments, he hates that he met Ascari as she pushed him into apprenticing to the Alchemist to learn what he needed and was broken for it, but recognises when he’s more with it that it was something that needed to happen and that he dearly loves his adopted mother. Otherwise, he both regrets and loves that he met the Alchemist - he needed the control and the power the Aspect gave him but he always is a little regretful of what he lost on the way.

32.Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

He has an in-joke with Englaeveus about necrophilia, but otherwise, not really.

34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

Very. On the occasions he feels guilt, it eats at him and it’s near-impossible to get him to shake it off even when whatever he’s guilty about has been forgiven.

36.Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?

As far as he’s concerned, it happens to other people. The fact he’s completely in love and in a semi-poly relationship is neither here nor there.

38.What memory do they revisit the most often?

Much like the man he calls master, he doesn’t tend to linger in the past much, but his first meeting with Englaeveus and his life in Auria tend to be the ones he thinks of most.

40.How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

He’s very aware of his own flaws, but also very unapologetic about them. If they get in his way, he will do what he can to fix them, but otherwise, he doesn’t care.

42.How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

Very, but he’s very patient. It’ll get there. He would just like it sooner rather than later.

Letters:

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Hailin is actually my oldest-standing RP character ^^ He’s my arrogant little shit and someone I love channelling my dead-pan sarcasm through. I always get a little bouncy when I get to dig him out of his labs.

B) What inspired you to create them?

Originally, he was a character for WoW, and I wanted to create a Blood Elf paladin that wasn’t ye typical tall and pretty belf. I came up with Hailin - short, muscular, angry and cynical with added arrogance. Later on in the Wrath expansion, he became a Death Knight, and the Hail we all know and love was cemented as a character.

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

I did at first - he didn’t quite fit into the world I put him in when me and Koto started building it - but after a few pokes he fit right in as the Eternal of Death :D

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

He’s changed a little, through him becoming an Undead and varying IC things happening to him, but largely it’s been the same formula. Problematic dead smol with attitude and half a face and an engine.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

I’d like to say I would, but I don’t think I could put bets on that XD He’s a little too cold - lol - for me, and I think he’d frighten me a little too much. I doubt he’d really register me on his radar.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Pure excitement, really. He’s so much a part of me at this point that I don’t have any fear of playing him right, and when my mood matches up to him it’s so much fun to play him.

G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

I don’t think any of them really do thanks to his control of himself and his emotions. His want to hurt makes me a little uncomfortable, as does his manipulations, but he only ever does what he sees as necessary - once he gets what he needs, he stops.

H) What trait do you admire most?

His loyalty and the depths he’ll go for those he loves - and the fact that when he does love, he loves with every single particle of himself.

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

Pffff, no. Do you have any idea how many versions of this guy I have now?

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

A little, but it was more we hadn’t expected the RP to become the monster it has so we hadn’t done much world-building. Once we actually sat down and started doing that, it all fell into place nicely.

[surveyjunkie]

0100

Do you sit on the couch or the floor?  The couch...

How many different colleges have you gone to? Just one

How much stress can you handle? An embarrassingly low amount. 

What is something you have to do before you go to sleep every night? Nothing. A lot of times I just pass out because I’m so mentally exhausted from work and chores I have to do when I get home, not to mention some of the shit I put up with from my stepdad. On days I can’t fall asleep, I watch Netflix or play video games. 

How confident are you in achieving your dreams? Maybe like 10%? I know for a fact at this point I’ll never be an accomplished doctor like I dreamed of. My ADD is absolutely out of control and my self-confidence is too low to ever put myself out there like that, not to mention that my motivation to even APPLY for doctoral school is too low for me to even think that I would get through it in the first place. I’ve learned from working in this position and who I choose to associate myself with in life that I do not have what it takes to succeed in this field. I’m NOT a Type A, and I value my personal life and relationships wayyy more than becoming a slave to school or work. It’s just not for everybody, and I guess I need to stop fooling myself into thinking that I’m this smart, ambitious person when I’d honestly rather be doing nothing. 

Do you ever get tired of all the army stuff you see all over the place? I don’t see it all over the place, but no I wouldn’t get tired of it. I have the utmost respect for our troops. << Absolutely. What a disrespectful question. Those people put their lives on the line for us so the least we can do is acknowledge their existence. 

What is one thing you thought you’d never do but have done or are doing? I didn’t think I’d get this far, honestly. And the thing is, I know I don’t belong here. I’m really happy that I was able to graduate with my bachelor’s degree and just get it over with, but I sure as hell don’t deserve to be working at a job like this. 

Have you ever disowned a friend or family member for their beliefs? No. I have trump supporters in my family and as much as I disagree with their political views I don’t let it get to me because it has nothing to do with our relationship. 

At what point in your life do you think you will be truly happy? Who konws

Do you ever make pictures or shapes out of the markings in the ceilings? Maybe in my mind

Do you ever feel like your life is too boring or predictable? My life is definitely not predictable. Sometimes I feel like it could be more exciting and glamorous, but when you live with bipolar disorder like I do, it’s definitely not predictable. 

Would you rather things be predictable or unpredictable? I like having some routine, but at the same time it would be nice to switch it up now and then. In a good way, that is. I don’t need any more of life’s curve balls. << Pretty much this. 

Do you really think money will buy your, or anyone else’s, happiness? Honestly, yes. I’ve been a lot happier recently because of the money I’ve been making from this job. I don’t have to worry about making my bills on time, and I’m able to buy and do things that make me happy. If I didn’t have money, I’d be pretty miserable, and if I had more, I’d be even happier. 

Do you think you will die happy? Maybe. 

Is shopping a form of therapy for you? Yeah, in a way. Especially if it’s stuff like candles or decor that will make my surroundings nicer. Or stuff for my dog haha. 

Do you have to take medication for any mental illness? I take Prozac for my anxiety and depression symptoms, but I probably need more than just that. 

Do you believe it is possible for someone to change? Well, yes of course. If they want to change that is. It has to be for them. Even then they likely will stumble and relapse, but that doesn’t mean they can never change. It’s a work in progress. A daily thing. <<

What is your favorite food to snack on when watching t.v.? Pizza counts as a snack, right?

Do you like looking at pictures? I like through old photos. Like from when I was younger. << Same, I like to reminisce about the simpler times in my life. 

Have you ever set 2 people up and it actually worked out? Lol, indirectly I guess. I won’t get into that though. 

Are you good at persuading? Lol sometimes. A lot of times I just bribe people with food or something. 

Are you a submissive person? Kind of. I’m trying to get better at though. 

Do you think the professional personality tests are bogus? They’re not “bogus”, but I do agree that they can be inaccurate because it’s hard to put a personality into one neat little box. You can define certain aspects of it, but it’s ever-changing and often times requires more analysis than just self-report. Sorry, the psych major in me just came out.  

Do you believe everyone should learn another language while still a child? I do, actually, but not only because it’s much easier to learn a language while you’re still a child, but because I think it’s important for the population in general to become bilingual in order to reduce racial/cultural prejudices and things like that. 

How do you feel about tattoos and piercings? I think they’re beautiful if they’re done right. I’m all about self-expression. 

Do you care what people think? Way too much. 

How many dirty looks have you received today? Who knows, I’ve been around a lot of different people today so maybe one person did. I didn’t do anything to deserve one though. 

If a loved one who’d died showed up at your door, what would you do? I’d probably faint, honestly. That would be some next-level shit. 

Do you believe the dead can have connections with the living? I do. There’s a lot we don’t know about this universe yet, it’s possible. 

How many times have you looked at a picture and wished you were there? I can’t put a number on it, but it happens sometimes.

What is the most consecutive miles you have ran? 3.5

Are there any words you absolutely hate? I mean, sure. I can’t think of any at the moment though. 

How many picture messages have you received? Ever? I have absolutely no idea.

Sent? Again, I have no idea. That is over a span of years of being able to send and receive picture messages.

Did you like kissing the last person you kissed or the one before that more? The last person.

What is your favorite pair of shoes that you own? My wine-colored vans. I haven’t even taken them out of the box yet because it’s been too cold to wear them, but once spring comes you can bet I’m wearing them almost every day. 

One person people think you look similar to? My mom.

Who is the most recent addition to your contacts? Who knows

Are tongue piercings slutty? No

What is the worst physical pain you have ever felt? Not sure. 

What is the fourth picture on your phone? It’s a picture of Josh and I on New Years. It’s actually one my favorites. 

What is the worst thing about winter? The chapped lips, dry skin and frizzy hair. That’s three things I suppose but whatever. 

Where do you order your pizza? Marco’s or Pizza Hut. Sometimes I’ll pick some up from Little Caesar’s. 

Do you think you would lose some friends if you gained 100 pounds? My friends aren’t my friends because of what I weigh or how I look. That would be really, really shitty. << Lol, yep

Last cuss word you said? I think an F-bomb.

Do you usually say too much or too little? Too much. Always too much. 

Lyrics to the song you are listening to: I’m not listening to a song.

Two things you are tired of: This job. 

What tv show do you wish your life was most like? Friends. 

What person of the opposite sex makes you laugh most? My boyfriend. 

Best purchase you ever made? It’s between my laptop and my TV

Do you have pictures up in your room? Yeah, I have a photo of Jo and I on our senior spring break trip up on my desk, and a picture of my mom and I when I was four or five. 

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? Sure

Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No 

Does your school have any rivals? I’m no longer in school.

Which one of your friends causes the most drama? None.

How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I have.

Who is the most inappropriate old person you know? My fucking stepdad. He’s not really “old” though, but yeah. 

Have you ever been punched in the face? By my little brother back when we were kids, yeah. 

When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? An hour or two ago. 

What is the latest you have ever slept in? Until almost 3.

Do you know what your name would have been if you were the opposite sex? I’m guessing my brother’s name, Daniel. 

Are you embarrassed to buy condoms? Kind of, but I don’t ever buy them sooooo. 

Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? Yes.

What year in your life do you think you were the least attractive? LOL 7th grade. I had the choppiest Great Clips haircut, bushy eyebrows, crooked teeth, and wirey glasses. And I thought it was cool to put giant bows in my hair. I was a hot mess. 

Do you have any nicknames? Tash, Basha, Tashie, Tosh.0, Tersha, Tayesha, yeah it goes on and on

How often do you wear necklaces? I wear chokers every now and then. 

Did anything bad happen to you in August? No

Do you have a morning routine? Wake up, pee, brush my teeth, take the dog out, change, brush my hair, feed the dog, leave

Is the first text in your inbox saved? My phone keeps all my texts already. I don’t go through and delete any.

Was the last time you logged into your email? I’m logged in right now

If you are getting up early on a saturday it’s most likely…because I drank too much the night before, or because I have a doctor’s appointment. 

What are the first 3 channels you check when you first turn on the tv? We don’t get any cable

What was your last halloween costume? Louise from Bob’s Burgers

Have you discovered your passion? I like to write, and act. 

Do you get tan in the summer? I get black.