#i genuinely didnt think my art had changed that much this past year

[scatterbrainedbot]

redraw of one of my very first tmnt drawings!!

had meant to do it exactly the one year later mark, but i blinked and suddenly april was may was june -- so ended up being more like a year and 1.5 months lol

May 11th, 2024 vs. April 6th, 2023

its so funny seeing them nest to each other now, but i remember when i finished the first version last year, i was so proud to have finally made a proper 'finished' piece.

like, yall, i struggled for years to every be able to create a piece i would ever call close to 'done'. part of that is me being a very knit-picky kinda person, and wanted to continue to tweak everything all of the time forever, but on top of that i also do work slow af, and before last year i didnt really have access to any digital media. and i love traditional mediums, but im defintiely not practiced enough to be able to get the results i was looking for with any sort of speed. like im genuinely not sure i created a single 'finished' work in my life -- not in school, not in work, not even in the free space of silly fandom doodles.

and then this piece happened!

and i knew even then that it was messy and rough af, but it had a background!! and color!! sure, the linework wasnt polished at all but still, for a silly little fanart? it was defined enough to distinguish the separate characters, and read expressions! there was even a little tiny bit of lighting!! i hate lighting!!

seeing the two versions side by side honestly i kinda have to laugh at how Rough the first version looks now. but you know what. im still so so proud of it. the colors are muddy, theres no shift in value; their clothing designs arent at all defined, leos teeth look weird af and theres lines on caseys face that are definitely from me accidentally dragging my fingers across the tablet when i didnt mean to but like. its there! its finished! i did it!

idk. ive never had a piece ive ever wanted to hang on my own fridge before. :)

[yours-trulyy]

i feel like its only right to talk about my opinion on the omori manga since ive seen everyone post it too

i personally really like the manga, i think it has a good artstyle and i gotta say one thing: THEY MADE HERO SO SILLY LIKE THE HAND ON THE HIP POSE??? i will admit i started tweaking when i seen that

but there was some issues with the manga that really bugged me:

1. the pacing. dont get me wrong, i love when some things get straight to the point–but only when it’s necessary. the fact that we know right away that mari died kind of ruins the point of the game: we aren’t supposed to know that she died right away. the game is just about repressing the guilt and grief from your sisters death and the fact that we know right away ruins the purpose of the game.

also, i didnt like how we just moved from one scene to the other so quick. it genuinely doesnt feel like sunny is a hikikomori. he spent 4 years inside his home and it genuinely feels like they just skimmed over that. i also feel like the manga adaption didnt really pay attention to how much of an impact it was on the story to open the door in the first place; it was just one panel after another without proper delivery.

2. the artist. if you arent aware yet, the artist had drawn shotacon in the past. and you know whos still actively fighting shotacon claims? omocat. it just seems like a really bad decision on omocats end.

3. the art. i feel like sunny shouldnt have been as expressive as he was. in the game he just has a straight face, thats it. i dont really have much to say about this one, just besides the sunny thing.

4. aubreys mischaracterization. this is the thing i hated the MOST. in the game, aubrey is first known as a vibrant, silly girl who loves her friends and spending time with them. when you get to faraway town, aubreys complete change is intended to shock you. its intended to make you contemplate what happened with everyone, more importantly why everythings changed (since the player isnt supposed to know about maris death.) the manga completely dismissed all of that. she just seems the bully, it seems like its always been this way.

4. no mention of the photo album. the photo album is very important in the game, since it holds all the memories basil has with his friends–which is probably why he has a camera in the first place. the manga doesnt talk about it at all.

conclusion: it feels like its assumed that we know about the games lore, which defeats the purpose of adding “for newcomers” in the announcement. theres so many gaps in the story that it genuinely bugs me, but ill just say this: if we get to the third chapter and it still just doesnt make sense, ill probably just stop reading.

[jennilah]

I think i started to follow you bc of tiny!cas, like eons ago, let me tell you seeing you get into different fandoms over the years has been a delight.

I remember seeing post of you going like 'hey these slasher film kinda go hard' and look at you know.

I mean this in the best way possible, I feel i've been watching a house plant grow, every now and then catching my attention and being amazed by the changes

omg thats such a sweet way of describing my... well happy autism awareness day everyone, its a nice way of describing the way i naturally transition through my Special Interests lmfao

actually, for the holiday, let me infodump about this very aspect of my brain to anyone who isnt aware how this works for me. (also every autistic person is different, so this is just how this symptom manifests in me)

ill say "phases" to simplify, though thats an unfair word because it implies im "over" my past phases. 99% of my past phases are pretty much there for life, but in the back of my mind. (So long as I didnt have a "bad breakup" with it for some reason, which is rare but happens) The ability to become a raving lunatic about it is dormant until someone asks the right question.

There can only be one interest (sometimes 2, with one being the less dominant one) at the forefront of my brain at a time, though. that defines the "phase".

so for example, my recent Halloween phase is "over" and I am 100% fully into Saw now, but I still absolutely love Halloween and Michael and Jason and all those guys. as evident by me still happily sharing gifsets and art and buying merch etc if it tickles my fancy. They're just hanging out in the background of my mental display case.

yea whoever follows my tumblr for a very long time has watched it happen in realtime. the transition between interests. i know for a fact which phase I started this blog on. if you're here from the beginning, youve seen, in order:

-Durarara!! -Deus Ex -Supernatural -Godzilla -Detroit: Become Human -There was like a few weeks where it was HLVRAI -And then it was plants. There was a year-long stretch with no Special Interest and I was latching onto odd things (and I was very inactive here) -Halloween & Friday the 13th -and now, Saw

I have many other things I love, but they don't clamp around my brain in quite the same extreme way.

my phases can last any amount of time, anywhere from a few short intense months to 5+ years, its completely random, completely unpredictable. even the interest itself is impossible to predict. its not something i choose, its something that happens to me.

sometimes i avoid watching things for a long time because im still very emotionally attached to my current phase and im genuinely afraid the shiny new thing will replace it. all art or fic ideas for the previous phase? theyll be abandoned. all I will want to create will be related to the new thing. (though I will sometimes draw it anyway, like digging up old toys to play with once in a while. The likelihood just drops considerably)

which is why right now i pretty much put a pause on the other franchises I plan on watching. I'm genuinely gripping onto Saw like someone is tryin to take it from me.

and then sometimes im like "haha yeah right. ill be fine. ill eat my shoe if my brain latches to this" and then put on the movie and by the credits roll im a new person (yes thats what happened with Saw. I really had no idea.)

this is also why im terrified of even just "checking out" things that have, like, a toxic fanbase or something, because i cant stop a new phase from happening if it does. and its really hard to keep it to myself, fuck

(do u know how mad i was when i realized i was attaching to hoffman the evil dirty cop??? i was so scared of drawing him, dudes. but thankfully everyones been cool abt it and we're all very aware of his awfulness & we have fun w it)

and every time my brain changes and i do get obsessed with some new thing, i get really scared and worried and hope I dont bother everyone who followed me for something else :(((( and yet, every time, im absolutely floored by how many people choose to tolerate my newest nonsense and stick around anyway

anyway ive lost the plot of what point i was making here OH YEAH thank you!

tl;dr: that would be the autism! thank you, it WILL happen again! that is a threat! 🥰

[bandtrees]

for the warriors ask game :D

🗺 : first map you ever watched?

🖼 : first amv/pmv you ever watched?

(I used to watch MAPs religiously those are my jam)

yay thank you! warriors ask game except the questions are all weird and niche as hell!

know: my memory is bad. i've been into wc for... well over a decade now, so these are probably not accurate xP my first warriors video was i believe a spoof video about ashfur and squirrelflight, but my first map and amv? uhhh unsure!

🗺 : first map you ever watched? - i didn't actively watch maps as a small kid, or at least i don't think i did? the first map that i entirely remember watching was during my second major warriors phase by the time i was closer to... 15 maybe?? as opposed to my earliest memories of wc which are from when i was 10 or younger lol. little fang, which is making me genuinely super misty eyed to rewatch, it's just so so good, from the style to the designs to how well it gets into jayfeather and his family with only animation and music, the composition of every part is so good, the designs, all of it. the sole reason little fang is one of my favorite songs to this day it might, miiight, have also been evelyn evelyn? that one was certainly one of the first maps i ever watched that stuck with me. the dovewing kinnie has entered chat

🖼 : first amv/pmv you ever watched? - i cannot remember. i watched sooo many amvs as a kid. not my FIRST amv, probably, but one of the earliest i recall is ashfur's revenge, which is delighting me so much to rewatch. this one was formative for me, i miss the style of flash-animated warriors amvs that (obviously:() aren't around anymore. i also have such a soft spot for tigerclaw is not one of thunderclan, one i was thinking about the Entire Time i was writing the exile scene in spottedfur's pride lol. i still love it so much, this is my first time rewatching it in like... a decade, im sure. its so good. im kind of blown away as i rewatch these that they ARE as good as they are, cuz i feel like it's common in the warriors fandom to treat old amvs as some cringeworthy lost art (in general i have strong opinions on how (unintentionally)cruel the internet starts being to things as soon as they enter "nostalgia" territory) - but there's still, like, genuine talent in these. there's a reason these amvs were as popular as they were, and not because we were all cringe 10 year olds who didn't know better, lol. also reminds me of tigerstar and the dog pack(be prepared) - which is one i have the most vivid memory of watching on my family computer, hehe. in general i love corvus katana's stuff, past and current oh my god i will never get this ask posted because i keep remembering ones that helped, like, form a lobe of my brain growing up. HOW TO SAVE BLUESTAR'S LIFE YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!! I AM TOTALLY NOT CRYING REWATCHING IT. YOU ARE. YOU ARE. cant believe i had a phase where i hated bluestar - i think everyone did because they spontaneously realized she was imperfect, immoral even at times, and made mistakes but hadn't developed the media comprehension to realize she was... actually meant to be complex and troubled and not just a perfect leader. god. bluestar. god. god. g (im also gonna use this question as a chance to gush about old amvs that i remember that are unfortunately lost to time: a hollyleaf one to hurricane by thirty seconds to mars (!!!! THIS ONE WAS SO FORMATIVE BUT IM LIKE 80% SURE ITS LOST MEDIA), bluestar heart heart head (PLEASE tell me im not the only one who remembers this one!!! i was devastated to learn it wasn't iconic or reuploaded anywhere (as much as i also think, again, in the nostalgia-sense, people act entitled to things like old amvs or people's art or whatever else)), NIGHTCLOUD GIRL WITH ONE EYE CHANGED MY LIFE?and... probably more of course that aren't coming to me now xP

i. didnt expect to ramble as much as i did with this? i just can't put into enough words how formative warriors amvs and the like were for me growing up :'DD they were my major start for digital art and animation (something i did a lot when i was younger but fell out of over time, but god i'd love to animate again, maybe do a classic wc amv to spottedfur's pride or something lol)

thank you for the question! I am so incredibly normal about warrior cats.

[frost-bites-slushies]

x

sometimes i forget that im never allowed to go back, that i cant participate over there anymore as much as id love to. i cant post anything about that anymore and its just my fault. im scared what people are saying about me there, i dont know and its so very scary.

i dont know how i couldve stayed in that fandom after what i did, but i want to, but i also know id only open myself up to reminding them of me after they likely started to move on. i dont want to be that selfish, i hurt people, i affected people, but i still like to just. fantasize over what i would do.

i'd love to have made a little fan character, based on one of my cute little plushies maybe, probably the apprentice to my favorite character in that au. probably shit at cooking just like me too, but they keep em around cuz theyre sweet eheeh

iunno, i can only dream though, as much as i wish i could make it real. i know the people there and i know they know eachother, theres no doubt at least one warned their friends about me. my favorite creator from that fandom blocked me, i still see snippets of their work through reblogs, but. i know they told the other creators in that fandom about me. to look out for me maybe. i dont know why some of those creators havent blocked me yet, but i can count my blessings i suppose, but i wouldnt complain if they did block me, because i deserve it entirely.

i dont know, i just. wish. maybe if i changed my name? maybe if i tried to change everything about myself so i wasnt recognizable? so much about me would be lost, the characters i developed for years before now, the name i got from nice memories with past friends of mine. but i would be free. i would be able to go back, to do what i want to do, to come back smarter and more informed as someone new.

but that would just be lying. and lying got me here. i would lose so much, and would it be worth it? to be able to participate in something i love if i have to limit myself forever? i can never talk how i want, draw how i want, ill have to get rid of my sona and make it unique enough that they couldnt track me down. but if i do reenter that fandom, ill be found out by them as quick as a heartbeat, because i talked with them so often and shared so much of myself.

and they put all that information i trusted them with into making a post about me. they put the art that i gave to them as gifts in the post so people could recognize how i draw, they put the details of how i interact with others and how i use my account online so people could figure me out even if i didnt post art, and im damn sure if i didnt delete it, my discord would be in the post too. if i showed my face, im sure they would have slapped that in there. im surprised they didnt try and detail what my fucking voice sounded like.

because of a stupid dingy little post they made, im restricted from things i love, because even after knowing me for months, they think i didnt feel guilt. that i wanted to hurt them and i did it on purpose. that i didnt learn from what i did to them. they think i was so immature that i didnt know what i did wrong.

do they still think that? do they believe i am really so immature and stupid that i wouldnt learn? i was their best friend. i was so close to all of them. i believed them all to be sweet people, but they made me terrified of coming back to the internet at all. I didnt run away for my own selfishness, i ran so they didnt have to see my face again, but the very person i listened to them fucking shit talk about behind closed doors found my account and outed me.

do you know how much shit i have on them? the things i could say about them? how awful they are in private? i believe only two people of the group are genuinely nice people, and even then they still cut me off, like they had every right to do. but they didnt make me terrified, they didnt yell and scream at me, they didnt call me a "slippery rat" and a manipulative lying bastard. They wanted to believe in me, but they rightfully took the victim side and cut me out. one figured out a bit later that they were wrong for trying to keep contact with me, the other was only dissapointed in me, which hurt significantly more than hateful words.

only two people of the whole group were respectful to me. they treated me like a human that did something awful, and not just a sick, twisted and manipulative monster. one of the group tried to manipulate one of the two people that were willing to keep contact and help me change. this person told my friend to just pretend to be my friend, and ghost me once i got new friends or felt better, to be my fake friend and dissapear once "everything was fine".

another ranted and called me hateful things in a reblog of the stupid post on me. they said i was a rat, that i "got away before they could get to me", assumedly to curse at me in dms like in that reblog. they told me to never come back, that nobody likes me, that i no longer had a place in that fandom.

i was scared, and i still am. but ive said that enough times. I've been scared for a while, and the people that are still beside me know that.

i just wish i could do what i love, but as they said, i dont have a place there anymore.

i think ill come back as someone new.

[worstdisastermaster]

The books and the shows aren't the same thing and?? That's okay?? It doesn't have to be??

Some of the artists haven't even seen the show yet, and maybe won't 🤷‍♀️ I know I've seen like. The 1st episode and that's it lol. And I really enjoyed it and I think it's really fun

But people tend to separate book fandoms from in screen fandoms, to an extent, at least, bc there ARE differences, and THATS OKAY

They are very connected but they are not the same and I don't understand why people find that so hard to accept?? Like. Genuinely I'm so confused lol

Like if someone was being disrespectful, or trying to whitewash Leah or something horrid then like. Defend her!!! (Do try to be polite tho bc people can and often do change, and they know what they have been taught until they learn more- like for example, a few years ago I had no idea ab anything lgtbq and I peob would have gotten myself canceled bc I had. No idea. Ab any of it. And despite having best intentions in heart i totally would have offended someone, and that would have crushed me, because *i didnt know*. I never would have hurt anyone on purpose, i just didnt realize what COULD hurt others on that specific topic, much less why. But now I identify with it and am learning new things ab jt every day and etc. And that's a super touchy topic for a lot of people and for good reason too! Just try to be kind first, then if they are jerks u can be a jerk back lol. Just give peopke a chnace to get better- and then PLEASE dont hold the past against them ubless they very clearly havent changed mk please please please let people grow and change and get better dont crush them before they can) anti Leah trash is. That. Trash

But why would you attack book Annabeth, just for existing? She was my childhood, and I identified a lot with her as I grew up. And guess what! I also identified with Hazel, and I do so even more now! No matter what race she will be casted as, I'm still going to imagine BOOK Hazel the way I always did. Doesn't mean I won't adore her actress, or appreciate art of the girl playing her role! But would you call me racist for drawing her as African American if her actress, was, say, Asian American? Or drawing Leo as Latino instead of Somoan? Because to me, u less I am being a jerk about it, all I'm doing is drawing the book instead of the show. Idk I'm too sleep deprived to put my thoughts into coherent words lol

I love the posts, where it's like, book Annabeth and show Annabeth holding hands. Those posts are my favorite, both because they are freaking adorable, but also. Because it's equal

They are different aspects of the same person

And

Thats

Okay

You know???

I quite literally grew up reading pjo. I read it at least once every year since I learned HOW to read, *partially on pjo*, until late middle school. I was raised on book Annabeth.

Show Annabeth is new and exciting and adorable and I'm so happy for it and I am very excited for all the people being introduced to it!!!!!!!! However, when I'm writing book pjo, I'm not swaping it out for show scenes, bc they are, in fact, different. Which, again, NOT A BAD THING. And you know what? When people from the show fandom write their scenes, they aren't going to be thinking ab the book scenes, and THATS OKAY TOO!!! And I could care less how my readers saw my characters when the read the story. I write them the way I imagine them, but it's their job as the reader to say 'no, actually :P' and swap out the appearance for one they liked better.

I did that plenty often as a kid, and i donf regeret it.

Which, ironically enough, was why my book Percy was blond until ab 6th grads XD I mixed up Luke and Percy's hair description ONCE and just. Never questioned it, though all the rereads, or looking at the covers of the books 💀 you can imagine my shock when I joined the fandom and found out Percy had black hair, instead of sandy hair like, you know, S A N D, like poseidon!!! And now show Percy is blond XD

That just proves people can imagine things how they want and jts okay- especially bc maybe, in an au, they're rifht!!! (Au being show Percy to me)

Anyways I lost my train of thought and it's almost 12 here lolll I hope I didn't say anything ill be embarrassed by come tomorrow~

Good night world :3

Hi guys, wanted to discuss something going on for a while now. What the hell is wrong with pjotwt? Like...whats wrong with this people? Do you see what they say? What they are even trying to do?

First of all, let me start by speaking about the cast. They are all wonderful children, Leah especially! She is doing an amazing job as Annabeth. But book Annabeth still exists yk? She is and she is literally white. It is not racist. But denying about a character being white in the books, even spreading hate like this...is racist. There are people out there related with Annabeth for years. People love her, every version, maybe book more maybe even the movie. How can you disrespect her like this? And most importantly, how can they attack an artist like this, with an art being so beautiful. What they are trying to do is not protecting Leah, it is spreading hate. It is awful. Making this fandom toxic, so so much.

Them trying to erase book Annabeth because she is white, trying to cover her by painting on her, shaming artists, calling people that loves her racist...What do we do about this in pjo fandom? This fandom used to be so beautiful, but now. This people are not part of the fandom in my eyes, because real fans, would respect every version of the characters, love them with their anything, even flaws. They would protect this characters because they love them, so much. And not to mention this characters are the ones Rick wrote 20 years ago, they were with us for so long.

What do tumblr think about this I wonder? Since pjo fandom is pretty active here :3

[vyl3tpwny]

everything in my life is changing

there's no simple way of starting off a writing like this.

but lots of things in my life have been changing, both external and internal forces. i really want to talk about as much of it as i can.

this is sort of a mental health update, an overdue one.

voreburger made this art. im embracing the fact that im a creature nowadays.

–

kicking old habits

it's sort of a weird think to think about how my first two years living independently have been defined by both the pandemic and the widespread unrest across the country in the most politically radicalized displays ive ever seen up close and with my own conscious experiences. it's been very terrifying, but sobering.

in all of that, though, i found myself arguing and fighting more online than i ever have. which is certainly saying something, if you know how i was in the past online. i think these days, my personal beliefs are far more noble and informed than in my past, but despite that i think it's been really unreasonable to go about life as i had been for a while. being confrontational and assertive in this way has always been a very unhealthy side of me.

needless to say, many of the events of the past year and a half — especially confrontations with people i had known before — ushered in a realization that this is something i need to change about myself. it didn't matter if what i was fighting for was moral or noble in any way. it's genuinely just time that i stopped fighting with people all the time. one of the biggest reasons i've accepted this is especially out of fear of going off on someone who genuinely isn't a bad person or acting out of place, and i'm just overreacting or whatever. in most cases, now, i think it's just best to remove myself from situations that could evoke those feelings and learn to be more graceful. its just bad for my mental health, and it's not like it helps anyone else's mental health either. i don't have to be everyone's teacher or moral compass. if someone's a passive asshole, i should probably just preserve my own energy and protect the people that matter to me.

i think this is healthier for everyone.

in general, the transition between teenager-ness and adulthood was so grey and uninformed. its so weird. when you become a legal "adult", it really doesnt feel like anything's changed. when you become aware of your responsibilities and start to examine aspects of yourself that are certainly negative or toxic especially as an adult, THEN it starts to feel like something is happening. but for a while, it was such a grey area and lots of things didnt make sense. i think i have a much better grip on who i am and what i'm supposed to be doing these days.

i took this photo back in late 2016 during some depressive episode. i used it for the cover of my small album project "apathy". its nostalgic and cool looking, but i cant help but think about how i was still very much an unhinged dickhead then. its amazing how much people just tolerated me somehow.

—

cutiemarks; new traumas & old memories

cutiemarks is certainly the most personal and transparent music project i've ever made, and it's not a coincidence that it was written when it was. there are so many stories ive thought about in my head and they all began to fill my heart as drastic things began to happen throughout the last year and a half.

i'm grateful nobody's really prodded about it, but yeah i went through the hardest breakup and most intense social crisis i've ever faced in my entire life at the beginning of 2021. i examined the events of my life and personality as a result of it. i began to experience an unbearable and continued social anxiety and dysphoria unparalleled to anything i'd come to know as well. i'm still in that too, but i hung out with galaxysquid the other week. it was the first time in over a year i had chosen to see someone that isnt a roommate on my own accord. that was a big step for me. cutiemarks is what took shape from all this turmoil.

when thinking about my past memories, i go through a lot of my photos. but none compare to this one. i always come back to this one of me and sylver working on super pony world (2016) in 2015 at a coffee shop.

—

accepting changes and learning things about myself

these are all big things. but as i worked and as i began to spend time in new spaces, falling in love with eden, and taking a step back from everything, i realized how much stuff was happening under the surface that was affecting me on a much bigger level than i would've ever expected.

i came to accept my being neurodivergent, something i never felt like i could've understood or accepted in the past. it explains so many things about myself and has helped me understand a lot of things that have long puzzled me. i've been discovering ways of articulating it all better and living with it. lots of things & mindsets i used to write off as trivial or unhelpful are now becoming important aspects of my life that help me stay organized and think better. it's all been positive. understanding how i process information and respond to things as a result of the way my brain works has been super important too. when things become less of a mystery about yourself, it's super cathartic and just opens up a whole buncha shit in your brain.

coming to terms with my introversion and boundaries is another huge thing. i've always been such a pushover when it comes to social things. it had gotten to the point where i was having panic attacks about like everything. so i've been putting my [hoof] down more about who i want to be around and what i want my spaces to look like. i still felt obligated to stay connected with lots of different people who'd been around since even my edgiest days. and again, i'm not going to be a moral compass for anyone, but i'm just not comfortable around those kinds of people anymore. i want to be around people who make me happy and comfortable. i want to be able to take a deep breath and relax.

setting more boundaries and unfollowing a lot of people who i felt obligated to has been something ive been needing to do too. and now i'm finally doing it. ive been too accessible and too open for too long, and it had gotten to the point where my current place as a creator and my level of introversion and lack of attention span has made it impossible to be who i used to be. i used to respond to every comment and answer every message and thats just totally unrealistic now!

this is literally how i feel (art made by eden <3)

—

being a musician, shifts in perspective, and realizations

between antonymph and lesbian ponies with weapons, i think everyone can feel what i've been thinking lately. and that is: fuck it.

i grew up in music elitism in all the worst ways. i was always in all the wrong spaces, all of which often felt like they perpetuated elitism in some way. my ego was sooooooooo huge for the lonnnnnngest time and even when i finally stopped feeling so pretentious and competitive, feelings of being a perfectionist and feeling limited to what things i was allowed to do in creativity still persisted. after putting out "queen of misfits" i realized that i should be able to do whatever i want within moral reason. so i decided to do just that with the direction i shifted "fairytails" in — then even further with "cutiemarks".

i realized that feeling boxed in creatively perpetuated feelings of depression and competitiveness in the most unhealthy ways. learning to have fun and to create however i felt was huge.

i also realized ive felt inhibited by all my client work, and thats something im going to change a lot moving forward. it's felt difficult to work on any personal projects while client work has loomed over me. ive also definitely not been charging nearly enough to how much i should be. so, moving forward im going to raise my prices a lot more, take very limited slots, and be a lot more reasonable out of it. and i dont want to take anymore commissions for a while anyway. i have a huge queue and its only recently dawned on me how stressed out its been making me feel. i wanna power through everything i have in my queue and then just finally get to working on Promise Complex. i feel so giddy and excited thinking about all the ideas ive been ruminating on for years with regards to the album. i wanna get thru my commissions so i can finally make my dream album.

my creative space feels so comfortable and full though. its like whenever i have an idea for anything i can just jump right on it. its nice.

—

so what does it all mean?

how do i summarize this. honestly, it's high time i lived my life the way i want to. i want to curate my own spaces without feeling guilty that someone will feel left out or jealous. i want to talk to who i want to and answer when i feel comfortable to, rather than doing anything because i feel obligated to. i want to be clear about my boundaries and not feel guilty for having them. i want to create in the ways i want to and denounce elitism for my sake and for the sake of other creators. i want to stop fighting and being a moral compass, especially so as not to hurt well-meaning people in the process. i need to be aware and attentive to how my brain works and just make all the right choices for myself.

i've been making new friends, embracing old ones, it all feels really good. honestly eden, pico/klez, lucas, bunny, izzy, hazel, jamie, kai, chiba, ricky, neko, you've all had such a huge influence on my life in the most positive ways possible. i'm so happy about life.

as a result of all the changes ive been making and all the shifts in my mentality, i've been able to talk about my problems more openly and transparently. i've been able to work out a lot of things and sort things out. it's so refreshing. it feels so refreshing to be able to just talk freely, tell people to their face how i'm feeling. no more games. no more hints. i love life and i love trying to feel positive. i've learned to deal with hard things with a smile, something i never expected to be able to do.

since the big breakup, things have improved for both of us and we're actually the best of friends and actually we're soooooo cool and we'll take on the world as best friends because we're so cool. i think bun is amazing and i think hazel is amazing too. i really love eden and i think we're going to do so many cool things too. as a result of falling in love with eden and making a lot of life changes, ive felt more expressive and colourful than ever before, which i think is something very different than what im used to. its a good thing. its all good shit. forever it felt like i didnt have real emotions and now theres colour in my cheeks as i can feel feelings for what seems like the first time ever.

so. i've learned to be graceful in new ways. and i've learned to be more assertive in others. all my friends are the coolest. eden is the love of my life. and i have so many things i want to create.

thanks for reading this all the way through if you did. it's not organized very well, but it articulates my feelings as they've come.

(we love each other actually)

[qiqi-media]

How I feel about Mal Bertha and her character PART 1

 This is not a Mal bertha Biography and it is biased in the sense that I don’t like her at all. Read with caution.

Descendants 2 was actually the first movie of the trilogy that I had watched. My little sister was watching it and I happened to be passing by and sat to watch it with her when it caught my eye. 2017 me had a completely different opinion of Mal bertha than today not because I was younger but simply because D3 hadn’t come out yet and I hadn’t watched the first movie or even knew there was books. I can’t stand Mal bertha, not even the D1 version of her and that’s the one even Mal antis love. I didn’t like her in the first movie but it was more of a “I wouldn’t be friends with her.” I didn’t think that she was unforgiveable and that it was impossible to give her a second chance. She made her own bad choices but she expressed genuine regret for them and was only 16. Despite me, loathing Mal’s existence I related to her in sense that it’s scary wanting to change but you don’t know whether or not your actions have caused too much damage. 

In D2 watching it as a stand alone I saw a girl wanting something other than the ‘happily ever after’ and deciding she would go for what would make her happy when she went back to isle. I was desperately hoping that after the ‘It’s going down’ scene that she would go back to the isle and not choose to stay somewhere she wanted to leave. But we know how that went and the ending left me bitter and sad not for her, but for Uma. She began to leave a bitter taste in my mouth when she broke up with Ben and came back and just expected him to get back together with her. I’m going to go around every version of her character.

PRE D1

She was a dick. That’s the simplest way I can put it. I don’t like even acknowledging pre d1 Mal because it leaves me with this very negative view of her character that I don’t think was necessary. I feel like this is a big fuck up, wanting to have Mal be her ‘evilest’ before coming to Auradon. I understand the reason why they wanted to show her growth and change throughout the series. But after looking at some real life scenarios with a similar Mal situation it made me look at it differently. Imagine this: someone who severely bullied you and harassed you and everyone around getting to go to a new place and get the best treatment there, then she’s congratulated with becoming queen of that land and not only that she then decides she’s going to be queen of the place she was bullying and harassing people at without ever properly apologizing. This happens in real life and these people get exposed which is why I don’t like it. It would be different if Mal actual grew throughout the series but it was real just her gaining more power and the scenery changing from Pre D1-D3. She also continued to make the same type of ‘mistakes’ with no actual direct consequences all she had to do was cry and they forgave her. She would be okay if it Descendants was a stand alone movie. But knowing the type of life she would get to live after all of this behavior puts me off from reading it. It would also be different if Mal lived a simple life in Auradon (Aka not trying to take control by dating the king and then stepping all over said king) She got more than what she deserved to have. In my opinion she did deserve the chance at all better life just like all the other kids who didn’t commit any crimes to be locked up. But in the eyes of people she victimized she wouldn’t deserve to be Queen become royalty, live in castles and get gifted with limos and bikes. 

D1

 D1 is the version of Mal everyone generally likes however, like I stated before I didn’t like her even then. At the start we see someone who is clearly trying to please her mother so if her mother wants bad behavior she gives her that. Throughout the main plot she did things of her own accord that she can’t use her mom as an excuse for. There’s a couple different things but a lot of them had to do with Ben and I’m making a whole post on how Ben was treated like shit throughout the franchise so that will be addressed then and not in this post. However for a reference she drugged him with a spelled cookie into falling in love with her for the wand. He wasn’t even willing to eat the cookie at first but she guilt tripped him into eating it. We could brush this off as her doing whatever she needed to do to get to the crown but to me she took advantage of the situation by actually going on dates with him. He was already spelled and willing to listen to whatever she wanted so besides for her own personal interest why would she go on the dates? (Granted a 16 year old wanting to get cute and have a nice date with a nice boy is not a fault or wrong in any way the fault here is all of this was happening when Ben was not in his right state of mind until the spell washed off.) Her taking advantage of Jane’s insecurities was not cool either and I’m interested in what ways she would’ve tried to use Jane if it was easier to get to the wand through her. Since her main crime in my opinion was Ben and since he’ll have his own essay post I’ll focus on Audrey here.

Her disrespect to Audrey

It was unnecessary, she had no reason to have had Audrey’s name in her mouth as much as she did D1. It would make more sense for Mal to like Audrey’s sassy boldness to me not shit talk her every chance she got. At the start they had a small passive aggressive conversation that could’ve just been left at that because technically they burred the hatchet between the two families. It was a “hey I don’t fuck with you, you don’t fuck with me” type of a situation that could’ve grown civil. However, throughout the movie in comparison to Audrey who really just had a problem with Mal’s mother until she spelled ben then it became direct problems with each other. Mal was continuously talking shit about Audrey as if Audrey was the one who fucked with her family. This time her upbringing can be referenced, on the Isle she most likely was allowed to openly hate things and Audrey was most likely raised to at least pretend to be polite. But from the Audrey we’ve seen she clearly doesn’t care about holding her tongue she’s straightforward with how she feels and she didn’t have a problem with Mal she had a problem with her mother. The only time she talked about Mal directly was about the hair spells which she ended up being right about (Mal’s addictive reliance on magic in D2 and Jane at the end of D1).  After completely ignoring Audrey’s feelings and literally stole her boyfriend (not even on the the you can’t steal a loyal man type of shit she literally stole him he wasn’t even allowed to consent to it.) She later in Audrey’s Diary multiple times tries to reason this with she never meant to directly hurt Audrey and that she didn’t really want Ben she just wanted the wand etc etc. The evidence doesn’t back this up Mal, you’ve made your disdain for Audrey clear and talked shit about her to Evie right after you spelled Ben the did I mention bs claiming “Chad will see her horrible personally” as if you knew her personally and that Chad didn’t grow up with her. Mal can say she didn’t mean to hurt Audrey but she clearly didn’t mind that she did.

 I’m going to make a whole separate on Audrey and how I do think she gets a lot of slack because people can relate to her, but also how her treatment in comparison to Mal’s is unfair. 

 I did think she deserved a chance to show remorse for her behavior (spoiler: she didnt) Again, I like to look at things from the pov of other characters for things like this. If I was an Auradon kid who was friends with Mal and ended up finding out she was using me and plotting to take over and destroy the place I lived with/for her mother but changed her mind last minute. I would see her as forgivable I just wouldn’t want her around me. In other words I would expect her to start her own new life, not continue trying to live the one where she was plotting without even actually apologizing to people. AU: After descendants instead of continuing to date Ben she breaks it off and goes to an Art school frequently coming back to visit Auradon and after high school she goes on a quest (with the C4 of course) exploring all kinds of different kingdoms and countries because she was locked up on the isle her whole life. In the future she possibly returns to Auardon and even could get back together with Ben with a proper start.

D2

The first Descendants Movie I ever saw so it holds a special place with me and I actually rooted for Mal the first time I watched it. I sat in to watch at the argument scene and knowing all of the plots now and after rewatching  it my opinion has change greatly. We see a blonde and very stressed Mal who’s dealing with the pressures of becoming a royal in order to secure her place with Ben. I do feel bad for Mal when she was talking to Evie, she was trying to reach out to her friend about her situation and was basically told to stop talking about it. I understand Evie’s feelings of wanting to leave the past behind but I can also understand Mal feeling like she’s cornered and can’t even talk to her best friend. I can also understand her feelings of ending up overwhelmed with her decisions from going to somebody who did whatever whenever to becoming a royal with duties I get the pressure. If Mal decided that wasn’t the life she wanted to live and went back to the isle where she felt more comfortable I don’t see anything wrong with that. She wasn’t required to stay in Auradon if she felt like she was unhappy there. That says a little something about Auradon to me if somebody would rather live where they ate rotten food than live there.  My sympathy for Mal stops there because everything else was a result of her own actions and things she brought onto herself.

1. The royal situation

Let’s get one thing clear nobody was forcing Mal to hand sign up for the prime and proper royal life. She did that herself.

Nobody told her that she had to dye her hair blonde and have a complete wardrobe change, she did.

Nobody said she even had to continue the terrible relationship she had with Ben and go straight into being a royal in order to basically become Ben’s wifey, she did.

She’s saying all of these people are expecting things of her when 6 months ago she was stealing candy from babies when she was the one who let people have these expectations. She decided to take up the role herself because that was what she wanted. Let’s be honest with how it happened Mal would not live in Auradon if she had to be a regular citizen she wanted to be in control of everybody and to have power because that how she always lived. However once she realized that nobody was just about to hand her this power just for being with Ben unlike with her Mom  (getting to rule the isle just because she was her daughter and not because she actually worked her way up there) and that she actually had duties and work to fulfill if she wanted to be the boss. She let her pride get in the way by feeling she had to prove she could last with Ben and become an Auradon girl and ended up miserable and blaming Ben for  something she decided to do herself.

She then had the responsibility to fulfill all of those duties and she was struggling unlike anybody else who would’ve had to abide by the “don’t use magic” quote on quote rule she decided to use Magic after claiming she’d give it up and was still a hot ass mess. She can’t even use the excuse that was to help her with her lady in training because she was using it to not be late to class and later to try and manipulate Ben.  @ishiphumasohard made a good response on why it was unfair for Mal to use magic as her ‘right’ because at what point would it be unfair to other kids? While all the other kids have to show up on time to school Mal gets to use magic to turn back time instead of just being on time. If other kids studied all night for a test Mal can use a speed reading spell. If there was a cooking contest Mal can spell her way into a feast while the others would have to the actual labor. You get the point, because magic is not universally used by everyone in Auradon and it’s an unspoken rule that it’s not to be used then she should have followed this rule.

I will say the girl was stressed and was feeling alone, I already gave my sympathies for that.

The magic situation really hit the fan when she felt comfortable enough to spell the boyfriend who had already put enough trust in her to continue their relationship that started with her drugging him for her own benefit. Compared to her Ben did seem to be taking it easy but maybe like her, he didn’t want to show it. It seems Ben and Mal had a sort of pack to work hard together to become ‘the king and queen’ of Auradon they were supposed to be in it together. In my opinion it would make more sense for Ben to be hiding things from Mal than the other way around due to the nature of their shitty relationship. But that’s just not how it went down and after Mal tries to spell Ben into not finding her spellbook he gets RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. That entire scene was her fault, she could’ve explained herself and why she was using magic and that she was having a hard time but she once again decides to take advantage of Ben’s trust. Then proceeds to make sure she ends the  fight with her being the victim. So much so that the entire fact that she spelled Ben was never brought up again.

Going back to the isle 

She then decides to go back to the isle, if this was really her decision I wouldn’t mind it. There’s nothing wrong with her liking the isle better than Auradon if that’s where she felt at home. The problem was she was clearly emotional and let’s be honest, if she had called all of her friends together and actually broke up with Ben and told them this was her decision to go back to the isle before leaving they MIGHT (hard might) not have ran after her like they did. Not only that the duties that we were speaking of earlier, she didn’t formally pull out of anything which is why it irked me when she was so irritated that they came back for her.

Some people actually didn’t like her attitude as soon as she got back on the isle because she expected to run it. That wasn’t surprising to me honestly, because for her whole life that’s how it was, only person she was scared of was her mother. She quickly realized however now that her mom isn’t around and in lizard form nobody was scared of her. Most unrealistic part of D2 was how Mal didn’t get jumped as soon as people realized she got back. Like I said Isle Mal was a straight dickhead and had too many enemies to be walking around like she was. 

Another point was when she got her hair dyed by dizzy, the shop wasn’t open, she saw this, ignored it and went in anyway. Not even because her and Dizzy were tight like that she just expected her to do what she wanted (get the pattern with Mal here?)

 Skipping her scene with harry because it did nothing to the plot.

The rest of the C4 and Ben come to get Mal back as expected and she acts all surprised and angry. Ben apologizes to her and instead of apologizing for what she did and then explaining that she doesn’t want to go back to Auradon and be a lady of the court. She continues the narrative that Ben wanted her to change and that she’s not good for Auradon so she’s going to stay on the isle. What’s the difference between the two? The first one is her taking responsibility of her actions and deciding for herself that that’s not the life she wants. While the other is acknowledging none of the blame and deciding to run away not because that’s not what she really wants but because everyone will turn on her so she has to run first. It painted a narrative that nothing of this was her own doing while at the same time making it seem like she is doing the right thing by backing away which in hindsight probably was the better decision. Mal’s feelings weren’t the problem I understand them, she thinks she won’t be accepted as herself so she wants to leave before they can kick her out but that’s not what caused her to leave and she knows it. You got caught doing something shitty and instead of apologizing you ran away.

After Ben gets kidnapped she lectures the C4, again she does have some blame in this. With the way the fight ended it made it look like Ben was in the wrong so he was going to try and apologize regardless if they brought him or not. The rest of them came to keep him safe and as her gang members come back for her. Was this not something she considered after she calmed herself down? Ben honestly had no reason to be directly on the isle unprotected besides to sneak and apologize to you so are you really going to just blame the C4 for bringing him there and getting him captured?

Then when Uma, who has him captured plans a meeting she antagonizes her like that’s what is best for Ben at the time. Even in the mist of Ben being in danger she thought it was a good idea to try and piss off the person holding him captive. If you don’t remember what she did she called her shrimpy, insulted the smell of the restaurant and said she never thought of Uma while implying that Uma always had her on her mind for no reason. None of that was necessary to ask what Uma’s conditions were to give Ben back she just couldn’t help herself. 

She didn’t care about Dizzy

Who had just performed a task for her and right after she paid her got robbed and had the place trashed just for Mal to say she’ll be alright. This should’ve been foreshadowing at the very least that she wasn’t ready to be making decisions for other people’s lives because besides her own and her friends she didn’t care for many especially those on the isle.

It’s going down

Even though it was in the song and not directly her words again antagonizing the person who has Ben held captive and threatening his life, insulting them is stupid. This entire scene is messy and they shouldn’t even had been able to win a fight against pirates outnumbered. When has Mal ever picked up a sword???

Car ride Back

She gets mad when Ben has sympathy/ shows understanding for Uma. She somehow realizes that it’s wrong Uma kidnapped him but was comfortable spelling him without a second thought. In my opinion she thought she had some type of ownership over Ben she could do what she wanted to him and if somebody else did it was wrong. (Even though this can be applied to what she did in D1, I’m only talking about D2 because most people agree she showed regret for her actions in D1) When he calls her out on her hypocrisy she goes mute and does that thing, of letting her mouth hang opened whenever she gets called out on her shit.

END OF PART 1

I was going to make this one long post but I’ve been putting this off long enough so here is part 1, no idea when part 2 will be up. I do hope to have the Ben posts up before that.

[poptod]

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them.  also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

+

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

[ardate]

(I hope this is okay to rb, lmk if you prefer me to delete this <3)

A bit sleep deprived so bear with me, I hope this will make sense. I just caught up and wanted to say.. I understand the disconnection that you're experiencing.

I find that a lot of my past creative joys relied on active fandoms and good interactions with people, but it feels like a lot of those parts of the 'old' internet have vanished- replacing active interactions with passive consumption, and so you end up screaming into the void a lot hoping some people might answer. It is even more so the case when life gets in the way and you can't/don't feel like being super active online anymore. And it def isn’t helped when what made you vibrate is technically still here but in a different way than before. Things and people move on. You feel a little stranded. And life is a big part of it too- I've been here long enough to see you get buried under work from studies to job hunting and fuck if this doesn't resonate with me just as loud. All of this to start off saying: I understand, you're not alone.

Now for perhaps a little hope in your dismay: nothing is ever set in stone, good or bad. I once had an art block that lasted nearly two years, the kind where you can't do even the smallest thing, and I thought art had just left me and wouldn't come back. But I wanted it to, and thus one day, it did. If you want it, your passion will find its way back to you in time- and if you find your happiness elsewhere and genuinely don't need to draw anymore - your rr boys or otherwise - then it isnt a loss either. It can be hard esp as artists because we tend to tie our identities to what we do ("people know me as the artistic one" that kind of thing) but what matters is what you find your life fulfilled with. It can also be exciting to find new joys. And funnily enough it can also bring us right back to art as a result. Life is funny like that.

I get that weird mix of guilt and shame that comes with keeping the same specific interest for a long time, not moving on and ending up feeling like you're 'stuck in your ways'. Fandom moves on faster than ever before which only exacerbates this feeling, but as you justly say it isn’t a fair way to think; there is no expiration date to those things and no cops to stop you from getting your serotonin from whatever brings it. Though I guess that doesn't offer relief from that specific grief of finding that an old interest doesn't bring the same joy it used to. That's the sort of thing that can be helped with like-minded people to get the interest back on track but it isnt always easy to find.

I miss tumblr as its busy, buzzing world full of hyperactive creatives. The website is still alive but the culture has changed. It's still not something I'm over. But thankfully, nowadays most of my need for this has been fulfilled with discord. I realize it's not always easy especially for introverts, but servers with good people can do a lot with rekindling passion- be it for art or old interests or long lasting ones. Man, my rayman interest would have stifled years ago if I didnt have my funny little corner with good trusted friends. I hope you find people to bring back some of that fire if you miss it. Just gotta take the risk to reach out to new folks and see where it goes, maybe.

I guess this is saying a lot and not much at the same time. I suppose ultimately, I'm simply holding your hand in sympathy. Your struggle is true and shared by others, and also it's not the end if you don't want it to be. Or if you want it to, it can be an end, to be a new beginning altogether. Either way, I wish for soft and kinder days for you. I'm there if you ever want to ramble about anything. 💜

i can't help but feel like my drawing days are kind of over. not entirely, i'll still be drawing from time to time. and deffo not because i want to. but i'm having this exact same feeling since mid 2022, since i was really struggling with my elective period, i kind of disconnected with art there and never truly found my way back. on top of everything that came after - moving, starting a job and working to be good at it which leaves such little room for other things because i can't handle my life well - there is just so much horrible shit going on. and i'm having a hard time comprehending it.

a part of me also feels very stupid for drawing one thing for almost 4 years now constantly, but another part of me knows "hey, but this makes you happy". it's a constant battle in my head because online spaces are like school grounds, and i don't actually wanna stand in the corner as that one kid that just can't shut up about that one character. but then again all i ever did was drawing fanart so... what does it. who gives a shit. be cringe and be free alright. but it kinda feels so hollow, esp. when you're at it for so long. a lot of mutuals move on. some are not even active anymore anywhere. and i wonder what happened. plus a huge chunk of the tone of the fandom has changed. also with the source material getting butchered so hard (since the release of ow2) it just kills the fun. playing this game used to be fun. playing this game was one thing that helped me getting through the last meters of university. it's like watching the downfall of the simpsons again without making the comparison too set in stone, just... this thing that used to be decent and nice and watching it getting ruined in real time (broken promises about pve, the recent gameplay changes?? the lore was fucked up from the start but they kind of tried, now it's just skins for 20+ dollars) while still having feelings for the characters is shit. anyway...

i recently went through a big folder of stuff i'd drawn at the age of 12-15 and there were so many fucked up but cool monster and cyborgs designs and just silly stupid stuff and all i could think of was that i felt so distanced from it, like i don't even know i think this is normal? because a lot of time has passed and a lot has happened and i knew i've drawn all this but i wasn't able to locate the person who did in my present me now and... it's just so normal that things move constantly forward but i feel like i missed huge chunks and passed a few stops and now i'm kind of lost.

i don't even know what i'm trying to say here anymore. i just feel sad because it feels like sth is slipping out of my grasp or sth has changed tremendously and i don't know how to make damage control.

i keep trying tho, i try to draw once a week at least. it's just like as soon as i take a step back and look at it i don't feel it at all. gonna continue tho, until it makes sense again i hope.

[antiloreolympus]

8 Anti LO Asks

1. It doesn’t really make sense for a long term comic such as LO to have such a drastic change in the artstyle, and even more you can’t really call it an improvement when all the interesting parts of the art style are now gone and all that it is now it’s just some basic same-face and body art style with barely any backgrounds. RS is incredibly talented for illustrative artwork and it’s really a shame she’s not doing that anymore and instead has left it to her team, with leaving them very messy sketches. The artstyle in the beginning had life and glamour and now it’s just very dull and boring. That’s not an improvement

2. I genuinely can’t think of any man in LO that’s even half way decent. Poseidon maybe? Hephaestus? Those are the only two I can manage, meanwhile the rest are either Rachel purposely ruining them because of her own biases (Zeus, Apollo, Thanatos to an extent) or are “good” men who are just creeps who disrespect all the women around them and are super creepy and obsessed over a literal teenager who acts like a child (Hades, Ares, Hermee, Eros, etc). The women aren’t much better either. 

3. About Perse making Hades childish: (this is no way defending him, just some speculation, and tbh I doubt that RS has thought this through haha) I wonder if he becomes a horny teenager around her because she’s a goddess of fertility? Would that have any affect on him? Doesn’t excuse his creepy ass behavior, but could explain it a bit, I guess?

4. Okay so I'll be honest I dont really see any reason to 'simp' over Any of the LO characters?

Also, not to start sh*t, but - I think part of the reason why some of the LO fandom does not like Zeus (and perhaps gives Hera more leeway - at least in terms of cheating) is because:

Mythologically Zeus is a known cheater / rapist (Io for example, or Semele)

They see Hera cheating a Zeus as okay (its not) because he's been known to cheat on her in the past / fans see Hera cheating on Zeus with Hades as 'justified revenge' for what he's (Zeus) put her through

I'll be honest I dont really see Zeus (or Hades for that matter) as good rulers because

Despite other deities (like Eros) doing 'acts of wrath' - they get away with it because they often have someone to back them up (like Aphrodite offering to sleep with Zeus to get her son out of trouble) - but the one time Persephone does something wrong (an act of wrath) - Zeus wants to give her the Prometheus treatment - mainly so he can feel like an in control king whos subjects respect him

The reason this sound so odd is because of RS writing choices. Zeus is a grade A d*ck who is willing to destroy a 'young girls promising career' because she made 1 mistake that one time. But at the same time the act of wrath is framed oddly because Demeter doesn't want her daughter to get in trouble so she covers it up (its like the equivalent of hiding a murder from the cops).

Zeus wanting to Prometheus Kore seems overly harsh because she is a Child. (Well a teenager) - so it adds to the "Zeus is a d*ck" card, because she doesnt have the life experience to "get away with" stuff like the other deities because she is young AND sheltered.

Like again, the whole concept of Human Laws applying to Gods is so confusing:

Would Zeus have been this harsh if Demeter had simply come forward in the first place about Persephone's murder rampage? Why did she blackmail / get other deities involved to cover it up? Is Zeus THAT much of a d*ck in Demeters eyes that she knows he would harshly punish a child for something "she didnt mean to do" (killed mortals based on a feeling?)

Why is there a motherf*cking trial in the first place? Do All the other deities get the right to a fair trial or is this a special case? (Like can any deity just offer to sleep with Zeus and he'll let them off the hook?). If the other deities had commited the same crime would the trial / punishment be the same or does Zeus just have a rage boner because he was lied to? If thats the case then why are the other deities taking Persephones side during the trial? (Ares I can maybe understand cause hes the God of War and stuff but everyone else is taking Perse's side because their either her personal friend or family member (Hecate, Hermes, Demeter, Hades etc).

Why are there certain laws like "Zeus cant get to Persephone because she has clemency in the underworld" but other deities - including Leto, Demeter and others (like Perse's nymph family) can just stroll into Hades house? Why is Hermes still on house arrest? Why are Hades + Persephone throwing a house party when shes on trial for scythe crimes??!!!

Why are the gods bound by such petty squabbles?

The way RS set up the governing "laws" in universe just doesnt make a whole lotta sense. Also, sorry this got ramblely.  

5. Tbh i don’t think that Hades acting differently when he’s with Persephone is a bad thing, as a concept. But there are many issues with this such as the fact that Persephone is barely legal and Hades act like an actual child around her. Obviously when you’re with someone they are going to act different than they do when they are at work. The problem is that Hades essentially goes from the “cold-scary king” to a 17 year old hormonal boy when he’s with Persephone. And him making out with her in a middle of a store or them golfing with diamonds or him making out with Persephone again in front of his workplace is not exactly acceptable behaviour from a king. If Hades acts all lovey-dovey with Persephone when their at their home together it’s different, but when they’re at a public place they can’t really do that. I would say that he has to keep a status about him but from what we’ve seen all the citizens of the underworld hate him and don’t respect him at all, from yelling at him to actually fighting with him, so idk how much status there is actually attached to him 

6. I swear, the majority of the “cute” HxP moments in LO just seem like a single father dealing with his hyperactive 8 year old over the supposed future intimidating rulers who Rachel is obsessed about talking and drawing their sex life. Is it really that hard to depict Persephone even acting like a smart teenager at the very least, as opposed to an airhead grade schooler? It doesn’t scream cute to me, it seems more like a father/daughter relationship. It’s just weird. 

7. i mean, i have a LO oc who's persephone's brother (fertility god) between demeter and zeus. dude got thrown into tartyrus to cover up the affair and now serves cronus. he was the god of summer, and my reasoning was demeter's seasons/harvest + summer thunderstorms. wrote a whole minific i will never post about him and persephone realizing everyone around them are assholes and healing together. so the mistress-of-zeus oc isnt that weird.

8. I’m not a Zeus stan by any means, but I do find him one of the most interesting characters, and one that RS has, in her attempts to make him be the worst ever to make Hades look better, actually way more interesting and compelling than the majority of the cast. He doesn’t lie or whine to the audience he’s some good person like Hades when he’s not, he owns that he’s a dick and doesn’t bullshit the audience into thinking he’s someone he’s not. RS tries to show us he’s a “bad” king, yet we see no proof it beyond what, he wants to uphold the law P broke and doesnt kiss Hades’ butt? That’s not a bad king, it’s a good one that he doesn’t let family ties or lust cloud his judgement, unlike Hades or Hera, for example. I don’t condone his cheating either, but it’s not fair to hate him for it, but love it that Hades cheated on Minthe so he could get into a teenager’s skirt and praise Hera for sleeping with her brother in law while punishing Zeus’ mistresses because she’s being a fake “loyal” wife. Just because he’s a deeply flawed, even a bad person doesn’t make him a bad character. Hades and Hera and even Persephone are awful people who do worse than Zeus, yet they’re loved and praised for it, all while being written with the depth of a puddle. 

[tr-ashbin]

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 || 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫!𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖 : one-shot

𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖 : slight angst if u squint (update theres no angst i just didnt know what to put here)

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤 : soft boy kenma streaming on twitch for money, but doesn't want to be a soft boy anymore, he wants to be yours. definitely not based off wilbur's unreleased song—

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 : kinda sugar daddy/mommy/glucose guardian y/n (aka capitalist y/n), mentions of ahegao, cringe

kenma was streaming, again.

he was in his 3rd year of highschool and was in short of money, thus he began streaming as a past time with the support of his volleyball teammates and his few friends.

one of them being y/n, who was born in a rich family and is one of his top subscribers and donors.

you'd be thinking, if kenma needed money that much, why couldn't he just ask y/n for it?

tuition isn't that cheap, and he didn't want to be in debt with y/n's family once he was much older.

despite y/n's constant offers, he still said no, and started off his twitch career earlier than intended.

don't get him wrong, it was his dream to make it big on twitch.

.. just not this way.

he figured that being one of those "soft boys" who do certain things for his viewers for money would get him some cash— and quite surprisingly, it worked.

it wasn't his first choice, obviously. he didn't want to be seen as your typical uwu soft boi.

but unfortunately, that's the only way to get money sometimes. it even helped that he had longer hair than most boys because some of his viewers mistook him to be a girl.

"ah, thank you liz for the twenty-five gifted subs."

he said in a quite monotone voice.

kenma was happy, he was getting more money obviously.

he was just tired of it already. he wanted to do something else for a change, but he knew he probably wouldn't get anything out of it.

as the stream went on, he proceeded to do some mail unboxing videos since he had received some while on stream. why not show the viewers? they might multiply if he did.

not only that, but a certain someone decided to call him while in the middle of it.

"oh..? hey, y/n, what's up?"

the stream chat instantly knew that the y/n on call was the same y/n who donated the most money and gifted the most subs to him.

"hey, kenma." y/n said, "have you opened my gift yet? i sent it through the p.o. box."

".. you're watching my stream?"

"of course i'm watching your stream, how else am i supposed to give you money if you wouldn't take it any other way?"

they were right, kenma wouldn't accept money unless donated to him through his streams.

kenma put y/n on speaker, and placed his phone near enough to the mic so they could be heard.

"say hi to the stream, y/n."

"heyoo!"

the chat knew y/n for their many donos and subs. and when you say many, it's many.

ask any of kenma's average of 2.4k viewers, at least every one of them was gifted a tier 1 sub by glucose guardian y/n.

now aside from that, kenma and y/n talked while he opened the gifts he'd receive from fans, figuiring that he'd open the one from y/n last (mostly becaude they told him to).

kenma received a lot of things. things his viewers would want him to wear on stream, decorations for his room, some even sent him cash through mail along with a personal message.

eventually, they had reached y/n's gift, which kenma reluctantly opened.

his eyes widened at the sight, taking his time to process what he had just received, and then deadpanning at the camera.

y/n felt the chills go through the screen, but just laughed it off.

"you like your gift, kenma?"

".. it's a fucking ahegao hoodie."

"it's a work of art!"

"oh my god.."

kenma rolled his eyes at the camera and looked away, putting the hoodie where the stream couldn't see. he wouldn't want to get banned from twitch now, would he?

while doing that, he noticed something else in the box, under where the hoodie was placed.

"are these.."

"wear them, kenma."

"i'm not wearing the cat ears—"

suddenly, a donation appeared on screen.

from y/n.

"y/n donated $100! wear the cat ears, kenma." said the text to speech.

"what the fuck, you donated too? how much money do you even have, y/n?"

"not important, now wear the cat ears, please."

kenma sighed and wore the cat ears.

"happy?"

"kinda, but go off."

he removed the cat ears, then placed them somewhere near the hoodie.

"well, i guess that's the end for today's stream everyone. thanks for all the donos and subs, say bye to the stream y/n."

"byebye!"

"the broadcast you were watching has ended." message was displayed on y/n's monitor.

the call hadn't ended yet, though.

"why are you so nice, y/n?"

the sudden question shook them up.

".. what? i'm nice?" y/n chuckled, not knowing whether they should take it as a compliment or not.

"to me, you are."

"wow, thanks."

"but, really, don't you have better things to spend all that money on?"

"nah, not really. besides, you need the money, don't you?"

"i do, but–"

"then i don't see a problem with giving you so much money."

kenma paused, genuinely not knowing how to take that. was it romantic? platonic? was it really just y/n being nice?

he didn't know, he really didn't.

the next few days were the same for kenma.

wake up, go to school, practice, go home, stream, then sleep.

kenma's thoughts, unlike his routine, were messy as hell.

spiraling around his place as vice-captain, then his twitch career, then his studies.

again, messy as hell.

but what really shook him was y/n. still confused as to how they were so generous despite only getting closer when kenma had started his twitch channel.

did y/n only support him just for the satisfaction of seeing him looking really feminine? or did they really want to support him financially because he refused help from them before? he clearly couldn't tell.

what he could tell, was that he didn't like his current situation.

the money and fame, it was nice, but he knew that wasn't what he wanted to be known for.

being some random soft boy who would do anything for some cash? not really a good image to his name.

if he had to be honest, the only reason he continued to be one was because of them, y/n.

though he didn't know why.

a month had past, kenma's streams had become less frequent as he and y/n have been meeting up during his designated time for streaming.

what was once daily 7pm sessions of kenma doing soft boy shit in front of the camera for around 2.8k viewers for an hour straight became y/n treating him to after practice arcade hangouts.

fortunately enough, he enjoyed them. being content with the quality time he was spending with y/n alone, and not on his twitch livestream with thousands of strangers watching.

not ever missing a day without spending at least half an hour with them, kenma had stopped streaming.

figuring that he had collected enough money for him to live on a side job while he studies, one where he could take breaks and talk to y/n without worrying much about anything else.

he was happy. he finally knew what he wanted.

he didn't want to be a soft boy anymore, he wanted to be theirs.

a/n: hi hi hello writing tips would very much be appreciated for ash here does not know how to end stories properly 😄

[doomednarrative]

On the topic of listening to "Marsha, Thank You for the Dialectics" one too many times, and the idea that you might be identifying too much with your trauma and mental illness:

----

If you've followed me for any length of time on this blog, you'll probably be aware of two things about me:

A. I'm clearly mentally ill in some regard, and B. I use music to cope and work thru the issues related to my mental illness and trauma a lot.

The past four years have been both the worst and best years of my life. I ran away from an abusive home, I've gone thru two major breakups and one of them just absolutely rocked my shit for awhile, I've been consistently working thru my queer identity and figuring all of that out for myself, and the list goes on.

Finally leaving an environment that had trapped me in a cycle of traumatic experiences for years left me in a weird place. For once I was somewhere where my illness and suffering was being taken seriously and not constantly belittled and ignored, and my queerness was accepted and respected. And that felt great!

What Wasnt so great about that was the Overwhelming feelings of "oh my god I've been suffering for so long and now that i'm out of that place, I cant stop thinking about it and realizing how much its truely fucked me up and worsened my mental health" that came with everything else.

And with that overwhelm, somewhere along the line I started to identify with that suffering. I had spent so long in a place that refused to acknowledge that I was hurting at all, that now that I was in a place where I could truely express that hurt and how it affected me, I didnt want to let go of it.

This was a cycle that went on for awhile, and one that I didn't really realize I was trapped in until about March this year.

Enter Will Wood and his wonderful music.

I'd heard of him months before, already had Dr. Sunshine and Hand Me My Shovel in my spotify library. But I didn't really give him a Proper listen until Miles suggested I do so, and I fell in love almost immediately with his stuff. Underneath his music just being fun and wild to listen to, Will's music talks so openly and genuinely about deeper themes of personal identity and mortality and the current culture we live in, and so many other important things.

"Marsha, Thank You for the Dialectics" is a song about both sides of the mental health discussion and about the struggle of how everyone deals with their own personal identity in relation to their mental health treatment. Its a song that once I heard what it was really saying, it slapped me in the fucking face to say the least. I havent heard someone describe the things this song is trying to say in a way that actually made sense and summed up my feelings on the discussion so nicely ever honestly. The things Will addresses in this song are important, and its all stuff I've personally pondered on for awhile too.

Some lyrics that really stuck out to me would be these two:

"Who makes the call, whats a symptom whats a flaw, can it be both? Well I suppose thats an answer."

"Ain't your identity at stake? Does aspirin kill you with the pain?"

What a complex question, isnt it? Does treatment kill your identity, change who you are as a person? Is that a bad thing? Whats really a symptom of the mental illness and what makes it that? Do those symptoms also count as personal flaws?

What do you do when you identify too much with your illness that you feel you can't get treatment for it?

That was the real question I got stuck on for myself. Because after a lot of deeper reflection on my own behavior and thoughts towards my illness and trauma, I made a discovery I hadn't known before really thinking about what this song was saying:

I found that I was scared to be treated. I was scared of finding an identity outside of my illness. I had become so accustomed to defining a part of myself by my suffering, that i became afraid of what or who I could become without it constantly weighing me down. And thats a very heavy thing to realize about yourself, but it was a very eye opening thought for me to have.

And I dunno how much longer itd have taken me to figure out if it wasnt for this song tbh. Its just not something I wanted to think about for awhile. I became content with identifying myself by my illness, and I was resistant to seeking out treatment for fear that I wouldnt like who I'd become if I tried to treat it.

Thankfully, this is something I've been working thru more recently after having that revelation.

I don't really have some grand statement to make at the end of this. I'm really just here journalling and writing down how I feel about all of this stuff recently. But, I do think theres something to be said about how art and music can really affect people. Hell knows I've had quite a few good mental revelations about myself since listening to Wills music more recently. Its been helpful honestly.

If you take anything away from this tho, maybe it should be that its not a bad thing to examine just how much you define yourself by your illness and trauma sometimes. You might find that you're in a little too deep sometimes and want to pull yourself out.

You're more than what your illness is. And treatment for it isn't a bad thing either. I may just be learning this for myself, but I do think its true.

Just something for yall to ponder for now I suppose.

[yandere-ac]

Tom Nook X Reader

Fireworks

Alone.

10 pm on a Sunday and Tom was sitting alone in the residential services, typing away on his computer, trying to ignore all the sounds outside. The sounds of everyone running around, the sounds of people having fun, the sounds of fireworks going off. But most importantly, the sound of him. It’s been years and nothing has changed with him. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to attract customers to his little raffle. Tom knee he was out there, that’s why he simply couldn’t go. The simple muffled sound of him shouting was enough to make his heart stop. “Come one! Come all! Step right up to redds raffle! For the small fee of 500 bells you’ll be guaranteed to win one of these fine prices! That’s right folks! You’ll never know what you’ll get but you are guaranteed to win!!!”

Huh. You’ll never know what you’ll get. Thats funny. That’s sort of how Redd and Toms relationship used to be. Tom however, did not get a guaranteed win. No, he got scammed out of 500 000 bells and was left in a ditch to rot away and die. He never thought Redd would be able to do something like that to him. Tom thought that he was different to Redd, that he actually cared for him. But Redd proved him wrong that night. He proved that Tom was no different than all the other fools that Redd tricked on a day to day basis. Because that’s what he was to Redd, he was just another one of his pawns in his big game of chess. He meant nothing to Redd and was easily disposable. And here he was, just outside his window, trying to make quick money off of his fellow islanders. And Tom was letting it happen. Because he was too much of a coward to go and do something.

Phyyyuuuuuuuu....

BOOM!!!

Another firework went off. Tom could see the ground light up from outside his window. Oh how he wished he could be outside. But he knew he wasn’t strong enough to face Redd. He never wanted to see him again, and he hadn’t planned on doing so. And he would do anything to avoid seeing his past partner.

Plingelingeling

The soft sound of the little bell that was attached to the door dragged Tom out of his thoughts. Someone had entered. And that someone was you. You were laughing and were holding a balloon. At least someone was having fun out there. You made eye contact with him and smiled, running up to him. You had a star bopper on, probably something that Isabelle gave to you. You looked very cute in it.

“Hi Tom!” You said as you sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Why hello hello Y/N! Having fun out there I hope?” He said, giving you a genuine smile. “Yeah! It’s been awesome! The fireworks are really pretty and we’ve all had very fun! The boys are really happy as well! They’ve been running around for hours now! It’s really cute!” You said, very enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Tom has asked you to take the kids with you to the festival. They both had been cooped up in the store for too long and deserved a break. And there was no one he trusted more than you. “But....I think they would enjoy it more of you were out there with them...” oh boy. So you would pull this card huh. He let out a slight sigh. “Yes, I would also enjoy it...but I can’t Y/N...you know that...” as he said this he felt two soft hands grab his paws. “Is this about Redd?” You asked, and just hearing someone else say that bastards name made him tense up and made his eyes widen. “...I take that as a yes...come on Tom! Who cares what that guy thinks! He’s a sad man who’s only enjoyment in life comes from watching other suffer! He’s not worth your time!” Tom knew Redd wasn’t worth his time, yet it didn’t exactly make it any better. Just stating the obvious isn’t going to help his case.

“...I’m sorry...look, how about we go to a secluded spot, far away from the plaza. Do you think Redd will leave his precious money making station to go after you? Trust me, you need to get out of the residential services. You won’t have to see Redd okay? I promise!” Once you said this, you took one of your hands and cupped his cheek. Tom responded by closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. How bad could it be. If he would just ignore Redd and get away as soon as possible, things might work out. And so, he took one of his paws and pressed it on the hand that was cupping your cheek. “Alright then”

Walking out from the building, Tom and you were holding hands. Tom could see all of the islands inhabitants running around, clapping or cheering. Some were sitting on the ground, others were standing up. And he could see one islander sitting on another shoulders as they ran past him and Y/N. “Oh hello Mr Nook!” The one on top shouted as they passed the two. The loud announcement of the name made a certain fox turn his head to see if what he heard was really true. And once he made eye contact with Tom and gave him a wide smirk, Tom knew it was game over.

“Well well well. If it’s isn’t Tom Nook himself. I’ll be honest, I thought you died or something nookie, but here you are! Nice of you to visit your good ol pal Redd!” Toms ears fell done on his head. All of a sudden he could feel memories of Redd and him wash over him. But not the good memories, no, rather the memories he wished he could lock in a box and throw into the ocean. Redd walked closer to the two and Tom tried to regain his posture. “Hello Redd. How are you doing this evening?” Tom looked at the fox. He was wearing completely different clothes than his usual “only an apron” style. He hated to admit, but he like the foxes outfit. Should he say something? “You look nice. I like the new clothes.” Tom didnt want to give the fox any sort of encouragement In any way shape or form but he hoped that the compliment would at least soften Redd up in the slightest. He refused to look into the foxes eyes. “Pff, thanks! I wish I could say the same for you.” this made Tom freeze for a few seconds, that’s was, until he felt you squeeze his hand. Slowly stroking it with your thumb. Once he looked into your eyes and saw nothing but support, he felt better. “Uncle Tom!!!” The tension was interrupted by the sound of two younger voices accompanied by the small pit pats of four small paws running against the ground. Tom could see Timmy and Tommy running up towards him. Both of the boys jumped into his arms and he managed to catch both of them swiftly. He felt a pair of small arms wrap around his neck. Tommy was giving him a hug and Timmy was enthusiastically explaining what they had done this evening.

“It was so cool!!! You should have seen it! Y/N made custom fireworks with us! I made a dinosaur and Tommy made a jellyfish!!! And then- then Y/N made their custom firework look like me and Tommy!!! It was so pretty!!! And then aunt Isabelle gave us these boppers! Look, look!” The two brothers were indeed wearing two boppers. Timmy was wearing a flower bopper and Tommy was wearing a heart bopper. Tom chuckled slightly at their frenetic nature. It was obvious the two was running on sugar and adrenaline at the moment. He was certain that the two small tanookis were gonna have a tummy ache the next day. He could hear the faintest sounds of a little bell coming towards them. He turned to see that, yup, Isabelle was coming towards them all.

“Oh! Tom! Great to see you out here! I’ll be honest, I felt a little guilty leaving you alone while I got to be out here” Isabelle said, huffing slightly as she talked to him. “Oh yes. I finished all my paper work you see.” That was a lie, however, only three people knew it was a lie. “Oh yeah I’m sure you had so much paperwork huh?” Redd said, inserting himself into the conversation. This is when you started to lose patience. “Why don’t you shut your trap Redd!” Redd was a bit taken back by this. You always acted so quiet when you bought art of off him so to see you be so audible was strange to be sure. “Oh I’m sorry? Where you involved Y/N? What are you gonna?” Redd said, irritation plaiting his voice. “I would love to tell you what I would do but there are children present you selfish-“ “enough! Y/N, you said it yourself. He’s not worth it. Just let it go.” Tom told you, stroking your shoulder in an attempt at calming your nerves. You looked into his eyes, and in one fell swoop, you picked up the two brother that were now standing besides him. The two of them let out screams of delight and laughter as you started to run off. “Come on! Follow me!!!”

Isabelle and Tom were trailing behind you. How were you so fast when you were carrying TWO children!? Just like always. You never cease to amaze. You finally stopped at the highest hill on the island. There grew a single tree full of the islands native fruit. You put down Timmy and Tommy who were still giggling like crazy. You sat down besides the two boys and leaned up against the tree. Soon Tom and Isabelle caught up with you, both extremely out of breath once they got there. “What in the world was that for?” Isabelle asked as she looked at you. “I felt like we needed a change of scenery. Tom needs to see the fireworks! And I thought, what better place then the hill! And so, I grabbed the kids and ran here!” As you said this, you scooted over, patted the place next to you. Tom sat down next to you and Isabelle sat next to the boys. And for the first time, Tom could actually focus on the sky. It was beautiful. Absolutely stunning even! The sky was filled to the brim with colours after colours. Exploding like big balls of flames. It took his breath away. Even Isabelle seemed amazed. She had seen the fireworks sure, but from up here, they were even clearer! All five of them just watched the fireworks in silence for 15 minutes straight. It was only when the three adults heard a soft groan that they turned the attention away from the sky and to the small tanookies. Tommy was resting his head on Isabelle’s lap and Timmy was using Tommy as a pillow.

“Whoops. Looks like someone’s energies run out. Poor things, it’s way past their bed time. I’ll take them home.” Isabelle said, gently picking up the boys in her arms. She was about to leave when Tom stopped her. “Wait Isabelle. Before you leave... could I have one of those boppers?” He asked. It felt silly of him to ask but he thought they were pretty and wanted to participate. But Isabelle wasn’t a judgemental person, far from it. She simply giggled slightly and bowed her head before him. “Here, take mine.”

And so. Isabelle was off. She was off to put the kids to bed. That left Tom and you completely alone. Tom was readjusting his bopper and you were simply looking at him with a smile. “Hey look at that! We match!” You said, nudging his shoulder slightly. “Huh? Oh yeah! I guess we do ahhah...hey Y/N? I wanted to thank you. Thank you for fixing the Redd situation, thank you for taking care of the boys, just thank you for dragging me out here. And umm...” he took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. The tanooki placed a quick kiss on your cheek. It took you a second to realise what had just happened. But once you did, you smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand slightly.

“You’re welcome Tom.“ And so. The two of you continued to watch the fireworks, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

So yeah...another out of the blue fic that I wasn’t planning on writing!!! But listen, @mrmr-uwu told me about this headcanon she had about how the reason Tom isn’t present at the festival is because he can’t be with Redd because it’s to painful for him. Like do you expect me to hear that and NOT write a 2000 word fic about it??? Don’t be ridiculous I don’t have that self control! But this was really fun. Like I’ve said before I will take ANY excuse to write for Tom Nook. I will now get back to your normal Yandere content

[fellhellion]

can you make a rec list of your favorite fe3h fics? if that's alright?

OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO <3 always happy to give my fave works a shoutout <33333

Though mind u this is going to be a LOT so ill pop them under a cut

from the heart in exile

TLDR: platonic hubert edelgard fic that haunts me. It’s extremely good with really well written character voices and focuses on these two characters trying to find out who they are beyond the war with their friends refusing to leave them behind

Summary: 

You can’t speak just yet to whether time—and age? experience? not that war or rulership have given you much of the latter, at least in the area of gardening—has made your thumbs any less brown, but the house in the Oghma Mountains is surrounded by so many growing things it hardly seems to matter. It sits at the edge of a forest, on the gentle lower slopes, and the people in the nearest town had all smiled to speak of it when they pointed the way for Hubert, the day you arrived. A number of them were old enough to remember what it had been like, years ago, in the warm and golden before, and to insist that it had not changed in the ways that mattered. It was still full of light. The air still smelled green.

In which Edelgard keeps a garden, Hubert learns to fly, and those they leave behind refuse to be left behind.

----------------------------------------------

Watchtower

TLDR: platonic fic and amazing sylvain character study. Like genuinely one of the best i’ve ever read. If you’re someone who really wanted a deeper exploration of Sylvain’s feelings about Dimitri this fic is for u. 

Summary: 

When Sylvain is six and a half and climbs to the top of a tower with no one’s hand in his, he realizes that each and every one of the people he loves has been born as a gift to something else. Dimitri was born for Faerghus, and Felix was born for Dimitri. Glenn was born for the royal family, and Ingrid was born for Galatea and for Glenn. He realizes, too, that what they’re for decides their future. Dimitri will lead them into a better world. Felix will guide his path, and Glenn will protect his life, and Ingrid will bind her future to theirs.

And Sylvain, who was born for the border, will stand in a watchtower. He will see the enemy before it comes, and he will keep Dimitri and Felix and Ingrid and Glenn safe.

Dimitri reappears after five years. Sylvain knows it's his role to fix the mess they're in, but he doesn't know how.

-------------------------------------------

little light

TLDR: really good exploration of flayn and seteth’s relationship (+ with his wife and flayn’s mother) pre canon (also post canon if i remember right) just a really good if heartbreaking family fic 

Summary: 

"She is beautiful, and she is perfect. It is foolish to say so, because the goddess herself says perfect beings cannot exist - but Cichol knows now she must have been wrong, because his daughter is perfect. They name her Cethleann. In the old tongue, it means 'light.'"

Cichol, Cethleann, what they lost, and who they became.

------------------------------------------

conjure the wind, ease my mind

TLDR: this author in general writes FANTASTIC work so pls check out their whole repertoire. a platonic fic between holst and claude w an exploration of claude’s past that’s just so good....found brotherhood i am WEEPING 

Summary: 

“I’d like to know what’s wrong. I’d like to help if I can.”

Calculating green eyes lock onto Holst’s own, but this time they’re laced with something a little bit like resignation

Many people call Duke Riegan a liar, but Holst feels like he knows the young man a bit better than that. To call him a liar is wrong, you see, because all Claude has ever really done is master the art of giving up as little of the truth as possible. He keeps truth close, treats it like a valuable commodity.

“I have three brothers,” he says. “Half-brothers.”

***

Claude won’t spar with Holst and Holst wants to know why.

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my fellow passerine

TLDR: same author as before and just...god this fic is so good. a platonic exploration of the relationship between Claude and Cyril. This fic has it all: found brotherhood, worldbuilding about Almyra, Claude character study, CYRIL character study. it’s just fantastic 

Summary:

Then the Alliance delegation shows up, and their offering strolls through the gates of the monastery like he already owns the place.

A reminder, for those who need it: Cyril is not an idiot. He has good eyes and he uses them.

An observation, for those who want it: The Golden Deer house leader is Almyran.

~

Cyril knows a lot more than he lets on, Claude is far less covert than he thinks he is, and messing with the guy your parents told you was a possibly-unkillable demon-prince isn’t usually supposed to earn you a lasting friendship but hey… life is already pretty damn weird.

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Autotomy

TLDR: god this ferdibert fic just fucking...destroys me. i cannot get through it without crying at least twice and usually more. it’s basically a CF canon divergence with a heavy HEAVY exploration of ferdinand and hubert’s perspectives towards usefulness and how abelist thinking affects that in their efforts to find Shambala after Ferdinand loses his sight from one of Hubert’s experimental spells. All while falling in love. this fic is VERY fucking heavy, please mind the tags, it’s amazing but it’s subject matter is something you need to be very aware of. Also i would highly reccomend reading the prequel to this fic as it provides some critical context to Hubert’s actions that you don’t get through Ferdinand’s flawed pov. Basically this author is a master of character perspective.

Summary: 

Ferdinand von Aegir's war record ends in 1182. The war does not.

Or, blind man's bluff.

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Coming of Age

TLDR: same author as before and god...just my FAVOURITE ferdinand character study. Takes place within the period Byleth is away. I don’t want to spoil anything but it’s incredible. Mines the fantastic character drama hook between Edelgard and Ferdinand that canon DIDNT rip

Summary: 

Ferdinand was a general. In theory. Edelgard had promised him continued command of his battalion, and a general needed a certain measure of wealth to supply his horses, his servants, his armor and rations and lodgings and, she’d promised.

But his father sat rotting in a cell, or worse, and it could be nothing more than a fable they thought him simple enough to believe. What did promises matter?

When the house of Aegir collapses around him, Ferdinand struggles to forge a path forward. He quickly discovers he can't manage it alone -- and neither, perhaps, can Edelgard.

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Another Life

TLDR: same author AGAIN (can u tell theyre my favourite fjsdhfk). Ferdibert fic, a man loving his partner and trying to figure out the best way to support them as they silently wrestle with questions about their gender identity is something that can be so PERSONAL and make u CRY god. also dark flier hubert my beloved. 

Summary: 

Ferdinand notices things. He cannot say what he notices, precisely, because he has no one to ask, and if he were to ask Hubert it would damn well result in every questioned moment up and vanishing forever behind a new wall of prickly austerity. Ferdinand cannot risk that. The things that he notices stick in his chest, and he thinks only, but.

Hubert wrestles with unasked questions; Ferdinand wrestles with a pegasus.

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Beneath the Sheets of Paper Lies My Truth

TLDR: Dimilix fic in my FAVOURITE fucking format of secondary in game historical sources exploring their relationship in retrospective.

Summary:

It was said that Duke Fraldarius’s grief at King Dimitri’s death was more potent than even the queen’s—but said by whom, and how, and why?

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A Fair Day’s Work

TLDR: Post CF Canon ferdibert where Hubert and Ferdinand’s overworked aides desperately try to get them together so they’ll be too busy being uhhhh AMOUROUS to give them so much work. Very much a romantic comedy with very fun OCs as our protags. 

Summary:

“I may have some coffee in the place for you,” said Prime Minister Aegir. “Let me show you how much better I have become at brewing it to your taste.”

“If you insist,” said Minister Vestra but he sounded pleased. To Delarivier, who had literally made it her profession to attune herself to his tone (usually ranging from sort-of-murder-y to extremely-murder-y), Minister Vestra sounded very pleased indeed.

--

Ferdinand and Hubert's long-suffering aides figure out a way to work fewer hours.

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Roost

TLDR: Dimilix post AM Canon with some pre canon moments. Basically an exploration of the complexity of their relationship with bird symbolism and extra Holy Kingdom lore. Gifting ur lover a vulture is something that can be so personal fksdhfsjkd

Summary:

Dimitri makes an affirmative noise. Then he takes a breath, voice leveling out into what Felix had long ago dubbed his 'future king voice', all steady explanation: “Long ago, the saying fledged right along with the nobles' and royal family's love of hawking, and it has remained a common phrase from one generation to the next. As adviser to the king, the duke is meant to be regal and strong, even deadly when required, from his place at the king's side. To always act as the most piercing, watchful eyes over the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and her sovereign."

He looks over to Felix as soon as his mouth snaps shut on the final word, as always seeking approval on his recitations.

Felix tilts his head, trying to look unimpressed. “I like eagles.”

A hand automatically comes up to cover the lower half of Dimitri's face, muffling the inarticulate sound of a snort of amusement. “That is good, since you are to be mine.”

***

They say an eagle watches over Fhirdiad.

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A faint and faraway sound

TLDR: Ferdibert with an excellent Hubert centric character study....just so good...makes me warm and fuzzy...the mutual pining and ROMANCE of it all

Summary: 

Hubert learns to be a person, with a lot of help and complication along the way.

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In golden light

TLDR: A really REALLY good ferdibert fic with ferdinand centric pov that focuses on him reflecting on his life as he prepares the Aegir house to become a boarding school. Ferdinand sibling exploration is ABOUND here and it’s great

Summary: 

When his family's summer home at Lake Aegir is set to be converted to a boarding academy, Ferdinand pays it one last visit and contemplates his complicated relationship with family, love, and legacy.

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one three four three four zero

TLDR: the fic that actually got me into dimilix. VERY heavy character study and you NEED to mind both the general fic tags and the content warnings the author lists for each chapter but it’s incredible. Takes a very familiar trope and just. slams you in the face with over 60k words of amazing character study. 

Summary: 

“How are you going to get the One-Eyed Demon of Garreg Mach, the Boar Prince of Faerghus, smuggled past Dukedom soldiers? What plan could you possibly have to get a creature that incapable of even pretending it isn’t a bloodthirsty beast into Dominic without getting caught?”

The Professor gives him one of their steady, unreadable stares. They definitely do not and could not possibly have answered him, “You’re going to pretend to be married to him.”

or, How to Pretend to be Married When One of You Can't Stop Hallucinating and the Other One Uses Hostility to Cope

[jamesvanriemsdyk]

it's loving my friends hours, folks

hi so. i hit 1.5k a bit ago and while i dont want to do a follow forever (did one for 1k, it took so fucking long), i do want to like. talk about my friends! because i love them. so here we go, time for emo hours here at james jamesvanriemsdyk dot tumblr dot com

to all of the people ive met and talked to in the past few months: i am so grateful to have met you. i am so grateful to be your friend, whether we talk every day or not, and it is such a huge fucking gift to know you and be known by you. i would give you all a little paragraph but then i would get out of control and this post would never end because i have a lot of fucking love in my heart okay??? i love yall a whole hell of a lot ( @goaliehugs​ @farfrombucky​ @andrewcogliano​ @couturriere​ @brockmcgrinn​ @boesersson​ @steadyfreddie​ @nicolasaube-kubel​ @alexvass​ @beauvilliers​ @girouxes​ )

to all the mutuals i see in my notifications a lot (and the ones i dont), the new followers and the old ones, all my super sweet anons, anyone who’s tagged a post with a lovely comment or who’s messaged me with sweet words: thank you. for just like - existing in the same timeline as me, and being wonderful, and choosing to be kind even though im a clown. i love you all a lot.

to @heckeyleague​ @iceburgh87​ and @assistantcaptainmitchmarner​ : im so grateful we still talk, if only every once in a while, and if only through streak snaps. it’s been, what, how many years? four? more? i look forward to snaps of your pets and the little glimpses of your lives i get every day. i love yall to pieces.

and here we go:

@fireworksatdawn​ : hi jayc. its, like, really hard to believe that ur essay comments on my fics led to this but - im really grateful. just, really fucking grateful. youre so kind and so loving and such a wonderful presence in my life and im so grateful that once c*vid has died down, we’ll, like. be able to see each other? fucking wild. thank you for all the fic convos and the tswift tiktoks, and the memes when im sad. i love you a ton, and im so, so glad you’re my friend. shoutout to philly as, like, a concept for giving me all the emotions i needed to write my heartbeat fics. (im still emotional about the fact that you tell me ‘its late for you, go to bed’ every time i stay up past 10pm. its the being known for me <3)

@pencilhoarders​ : my favorite flyers art witch. what an incredibly kind, talented soul you are. what a beautiful heart you have, really and truly. i love listening to you talk about your ideas and seeing your art process, and i love that your mind works like mine does, and that we really do understand each other. i love that you’re going after your dream and i know you’ll be incredible at whatever you decide to do post-grad - you’re simply too amazing not to be. thank you for sending me those anons about the canes what feels like forever ago; i am so fucking glad i get to call you my friend.

@majorpenalty​ : you are, without a doubt, one of my most favorite people ive ever met on this site. your life is fucking wild and you are so funny and kind and resilient, and i never want to not be your friend. i love losing my mind with you for five to eight hours on zoom, i love just being able to just exist with you even though we have half a country between us. you are so intelligent and strong and lovely, and you deserve every single good thing in the entire world. thank you also for sending me those wild ass anons, and for sending me all the videos of you singing trap bunny bubbles and tswift on snap (we have the yellow heart now uwu) and for just - being there and understanding. you are so brilliant and i cant fucking wait to watch you continue to grow and succeed. i love u so fuckin much.

@softgrantaire​ : hi, alex! kiss the cats and your baby for me and tell your husband i said hey. also, sorry in advance for how long and sappy this is about to be, because im already choked up thinking about it! so: i would not be the person i am today without you. its been a literal month since we became friends, but i literally have never felt more immediately loved or accepted by anyone in my life. you are, probably, the reason i felt comfortable enough to change my name in public; youre the first person i told i was deeply uncomfortable with my name and you changed it immediately, without fucking blinking, and i knew trans friends hit different, but i didnt realize how different it would hit til i met you. and its not just that, either, its the kindness and the trust and the mutual respect, and the pics and vids of jules and the cats all day, its being genuinely excited to see your name pop up on my phone screen, its the voice messages on my way home from work and its the sound of you laugh and the comfort that exists in the little space we’ve carved out for ourselves. i love being your friend, and i love that you’re my friend, and i want us to be that for a long, long time -  ill always be the nolpat to your g. i love you so fucking much, dude.

@codyglass​ : ngl, i typed your url and just like - froze, for a minute. because like. how do you talk about a friendship like this? how do you put it into words? how do you describe all of the laughter and the tears and the years we’ve had together? its the kindness for me, its the communication and comprehension for me, its the unconditional love for me. there isnt a place i feel safer than our friendship; there isnt a person on earth i love like i love you. thanks for all the late nights, all the massive fic concepts/outlines we’ll never write but always find solace in, for all the nolpats roasts, for all the hockey tears and all the real life tears too. for listening to folklore with me for the first time when it dropped, for understanding when i couldnt turn it off for weeks after, for getting the days i send you 30 messages in a row and the days i cant get out of bed. it’s so fucking insane that we’re friends, still - how fucking incredible is it that i met my best friend, who lives 1846 miles away from me, through fucking hockey of all things? youre the best gift life ever gave me, and its such a fucking blessing to be alive at the same time as you, much less to be your best friend. i love you to the moon and to saturn.