#i guess to live is just another kind of poetry

[provinzpoet]

On Engagement Bait

Whenever you see it, that's an additional five years. All currently active negative effects are dispelled.

A lil' essay.

I hate engagement bait - with a passion.

"Reblog if you care" "Reblog to mark your blog safe for [marginalized group X]" "Reblog or your mom dies in her sleep tonight."

"Reblog, or else."

I know most of these are made in jest. Harmless fun, right? But to me, "harmless fun" doesn’t excuse poor taste. Especially when it veers into manipulation.

So, here's a little something below the cut. If you're here for the poetry, you're free to scroll. If you're here for the ramblings, keep reading.

Either way, have another look at the duck. That's another 5 years on the house. Download it, look at it whenever - stack that immunity to last a lifetime. No engagement bait shall ever touch you again.

That little ducky up there was born in response to a post about you not having any original thought for the next five years.... unless you reblog.

It was meant as silent defiance, as a soft out. Then @bred-is-a-dumb-name reblogged my little ducky. With the following tags:

First and foremost: Thank you for speaking so clearly. Your tags were the push I needed to sit down and write this.

I. The Premise

Engagement bait plays with a simple human desire. Recognition. People want to be seen, they want to be recognized. Above all, they want to be validated.

From the early days of social media 'likes' equaled validation.

On tumblr, the currency of choice is reblogs. Reblogging equips a post with wings, allowing it to touch down on your own blog, be exposed to your own audience. The growth potential here is exponential, as reblogs don't just live tucked away in your profile, but are the groundwork of the tumblr algorithm on what content to show to its userbase.

My Thesis: You are responsible for the content you pass along to your mutuals. Even if you didn’t create it. Even if you reblogged it "ironically."

From the creator’s side, engagement bait is often a way to chase notes - a hit of serotonin from the numbers ticking up. And I get that. I love seeing my posts resonate too - reading your tags, your comments, the ways my words find you.

But I would never boost engagement through pain, coercion, or bad vibes in general. And I think no one should.

II. The Danger

Here's the catch: reblogging engagement bait feeds a manipulative feedback-loop.

But, at the same time, Let me be clear: Not all engagement bait is created equal.

Baity posts like "reblog to show your moots you appreciate them" (you know who you are! And I appreciate you too! c: ) are fine. Sure, they're meant to play the algorithm and the very human rationale that 'external validation is more valuable than internal validation' . basically: "If I reblog this post it'll mean more than if I just tell my moot they mean a lot to me".

At best, they're a reminder to be kind.

But - and this is the important part - there is also a different kind. Engagement bait like "Reblog or your mother will die tonight", "Reblog or no more creativity for 5 years".

These aren't funny to everyone. To some, they're not even neutral.

They're cruel. They are emotional abuse hidden under the guise of a 'funny context'. Of the absurdity of a duck holding that power.

Let's be real. It's not holding that power. And you'll reblog it ironically with funny tags in the vein of 'oh, better be sure, mighty duck'. Unless you don't.

Because guess what? It IS holding that power.

To those with OCD. To those in intrusive thought loops. To those with deeply rooted fear of loss. To the neurodivergent. Maybe even to you? To those, these posts can be triggers.

III. The Mechanics of Harm

To people like that, the harmless meme becomes a source of real-world stress.

It's toying with - to me - deeply problematic, psychological concepts:

Compulsion and Intrusive Thoughts For someone with intrusive thought patterns, seeing a post that ties inaction to harm can spark a cycle that’s hard to break. It’s not a meme - it’s a trigger.

Guilt-Tripping and Moral Coercion There’s a quiet cruelty to coercion wrapped in kindness. ‘Only good people will reblog’ is just a digital form of social blackmail.

False Urgency & Manufactured Stakes The moment a post tells you "do this now, or else" - it's bypassing your agency. It swaps thought for panic.

Neurodivergent Sensitivity to Harm Avoidance This isn’t about superstition. It’s about the fear of what happens if we don’t play along. That fear is real. Many neurodivergent folks have built entire internal systems around minimizing perceived danger. These posts poke at that. They exploit it.

The Illusion of Safety through Compliance Some users - especially those who’ve seen harm happen "coincidentally" after ignoring a chain post - develop ritualized engagement. It becomes a way to feel in control, even when logic says otherwise. Engagement bait can reignite old fears tied to punishment, loss, or abandonment. And I get it. These posts feel silly. But they sit in the mind like a splinter.

Yes, it's uncomfortable having it called out like this - and it should be. It's meant to be.

IV. Walk a mile in their shoes

I’m not writing this from a pulpit.

I’ve wrestled with compulsive thoughts and weird little rituals my whole life. So when I say this stuff can hurt, it’s not theoretical. It’s personal.

And I’m not here to scold. I’m just inviting you to zoom out. To consider that your reblog might have more impact than you intended.

V. Being Responsible

I try to bear responsibility for what I put out here. Tumblr is full of vulnerable, brilliant, open people. The way we talk to each other matters.

Don't get me wrong, sharing a joke is fun - But if you knew a joke would hurt your friend, you'd probably hold it back. The same logic applies here.

I'm not here to shame anyone - unless you’re making this kind of post in bad faith. If you’re knowingly feeding on people’s fears for notes? That’s not a joke. That’s cruelty. That, to me, is despicable.

All I wanted was to offer this, another point of view. And just maybe, if you’ve ever reblogged something like that without thinking, this helped you see it through a different lens.

Be nice to each other. Look out for each other.

We're all navigating this life for the first time, let's not make it any harder than it needs to be, okay?

Yours truly,

Poe

Just silently accept. The donkey will know.

[m1guelsgf]

part 2 to jealousy, jealousy????? 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

jealousy, jealousy ii

axel kovacevic x larusso!reader

hey everyone!! sorry its taken me so long to get back on it but i'll be back in full swing again soon. sorry if this is kind of short, i just didn't want to hold onto this for much longer. i'm gonna be starting some personal projects (poetry, short films, videos, ect...) so i wanted to get this out before i am even more distracted. super excited for s6p3 to come out!!! okay thats it, enjoy!!

your heart was thumping against your chest with vigor. you could barely hear the announcer introduce everyone.

there was no place to hide as the arena lights beamed down on you, leaving you visible and vulnerable to the attack of glares being thrown your way. the entire miyagi do team was focused on you, especially sam and your dad. they couldn't believe you would do something like this and their vision was beginning to cloud with betrayal. you understood it and that's what made it harder. you would react the same.

and then they finally looked away from you. it only took you a second to realize their faces had turned towards another traitor. tory was representing cobra kai, standing next to kreese besides your team on the mat. you caught her gaze and you both looked at each other with the same confusion.

"but today is about enjoying our host city and making new friends. or enemies. we have a field trip arranged for our competitors and for our sensei's, a cocktail mixer with some of the world's finest martial arts brands. it's a beautiful day to make a first impression. and i suggest you enjoy it because tomorrow, your lives change forever."

the arena errupted in applause and you were locked in a staring competition with sam again. "come on, let's go change." axel tugged on the sleeve of your gi. you nodded and followed him out of the arena, sam still staring daggers through you.

"now everyone smile and say barcelona. 1, 2, 3..."

the chorus was weak. "barcelona" flash.

"one more"

"barcelona." it was a little stronger this time.

"you two in the back, perfect." the photographer pointed you and axel out when all you were doing was holding hands and smiling. axel wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer when he noticed everyone now paying the two of you attention.

"and one more... i guess not." tory walked away from the group before the photographer could take another shot.

"i'll be back." you spoke to axel, making your way to follow tory through the aquarium.

"y/n!" you heard miguel call after you. he was standing next to sam and once sam laid eyes on you, she turned around and walked in the other direction. you looked at tory's vanishing silhouette and then back and miguel before walking up to him. he didn't even give you a chance to speak. "what the hell are you doing here?"

"sekai tekai? karate world championship? ever heard of it?" you rolled your eyes, annoyed at the accusatory tone he was directing at you.

"you know what i mean." miguel was never good at hiding his frustration. his brow was all furrowed and his eyes weren't the soft puppy dog eyes you were used to. they were hard. of course you and miguel had little spats here and there in the dojo but he had never been genuinely upset with you. "how could you do this to us? to sam? to your dad?"

"miguel, i know you're just trying to have sam's back, but this is none of your business." you snapped and it took miguel by surprise. he had never seen you be this assertive before. you were both seeing new sides to each other's character. "sam's the favorite. everyone knows it, you know it. even anthony knows. they don't care about trophies and championships but i do. this is my one chance. i know you know what that feels like."

miguel nodded, now beginning to understand your point of view. "you should talk to them."

"they're not going to hear me." you gave miguel a half smile. "good luck, miguel. the team and my sister are going to need you." you caught back up with axel, letting him lead you through the aquarium.

you spent the rest of the afternoon with axel, trying to get that nagging voice out of your head that said miguel was right. you needed to talk to your family. you knew the karate drama would come quickly but you didn't want to deal with it just yet. you just wanted to be axel's girlfriend for a few more days.

the first challenges began later that night. in the first match it was miyagi do, cobra kai, furia de pantera, and iron dragons in the first group.

"we should attack miyagi do first. they're gonna protect the egg. it won't be that hard to pick them off one by one." you spoke into your huddled team members. everyone was looking to you and axel. axel was about to agree with you but sensei wolf rose a hand to stop you.

"the point of this challenge isn't to take down the most teams. the point is for my captains to stay untouchable. understood? the rest of you will protect them. stay in this corner. v formation. let them come to you." sensei wolf instructed and you all nodded, following his directions. you could always get behind a defensive strategy

the game began and tory immediately started attacking miyagi do as you had suggested to your own team. the mat was chaos. you and axel watched from behind your line of defenses. "how are you feeling?" axel spoke in a voice just low enough for you to hear.

"i think i'm fine." you spoke in return. "just trying not to think about it too much." your new teammates easily defended you and axel from the opposition. "i kinda like not having to do anything here though."

"it makes us look... cool." he replied and it made you crack a smile at his response. you were finally able to relax a bit. it didn't take that long for sam, robby, and the other teams captain to get taken out of the match by cobra kai. there was only 3 of them while your entire team was still standing. axel looked down at you and you nodded when you met his gaze. the four dragons that had protected you two dropped to a knee at sensei wolf's command and walked off the mat.

tory looked to her teammates. she had never seen you look this intimidating. you and axel were standing there in a junbi stance, not having even broken a sweat yet. two weapons of destruction kept safe for the final attack. she envied you for having axel at your side when she desperately wanted robby at hers. she furrowed her brows and put on her game face, bouncing on her toes as she rose her fists. "ais!" she yelled, trying to shake away her uncertainty and lunging towards you.

you easily dodged her first attack, quickly spinning around for a hook kick that she narrowly managed to dodge. meanwhile, axel had already dropped yoon to the floor and was now facing kwon. it wasn't hard to tell that tory was nervous. her energy was almost as intense as the last time you saw her. she was unable to stop bouncing around so much and she was telegraphing. you faked a punch, which she followed and opened up the opportunity for you to kick her across the face and down to the mat.

beside you, axel had also taken kwon down. "it's good to see you tory." you offered her a hand and she hesitantly took it, letting you help her stand up. "just remember to breathe, okay?" you offered her a smile and it looked like she wanted to say something but kwon and the other cobras dragged her away. you looked at axel and grinned, hugging him and he lifted you off the ground a little before you both left the mat. it felt good to be under your boyfriend's arm after winning a match.

your dad watched with a heavy heart. his little champion was doing it without him and she was succeeding. you didn't need him anymore. he wrapped an arm around sam's shoulders and walked with her out of the arena. daniel needed to make things right but he didn't know how. he didn't know if it was even possible to convince you to come back to miyagi do, considering how well you were competing away from him.

"are you okay dad?" sam asked, looking up at her father with concern.

"yeah, sweetheart. i'll be alright. we'll be alright." daniel spoke, trying to convince himself as well as sam that everything would be alright.

"what the hell are you doing?" sam approached you in the hallway leading to your room.

"getting ready for bed?" you responded in an obvious tone, not wanting to have this conversation right now. she approached you the same as miguel earlier, but you knew she wasn't actually looking to talk like he was. she just wanted to argue and get all her anger out.

"cut the crap." she stepped closer as if she was challenging you. "why would you do this to us? i mean, i get you're mad at me and dad but everyone else? are you really that selfish?" she crossed her arms and shook her head in disapproval. "and did you know that tory was coming? we all saw that little moment you had and if you did-."

you scoffed and cut her off. "do you hear yourself? this is why i didn't tell you i was joining axel's team. you take everything so personally. this was never about you. it's about me. you should know better than anyone that i have worked my entire life at this. this is my only opportunity and you and dad stole it from me. i did what i had to do." you defended yourself.

"so you're not even gonna apologize?" sam narrowed her eyes at you. "you let all of us down, you hurt dad, and you're not gonna apologize? we were counting on you."

you shook your head and a disbelieving smile crossed your face. of course, she would try to guilt you into apologizing. that was her move since childhood. you weren't going to let her use your dad against you. "and tory was counting on all of you. if you came here looking for an apology, then you're looking in the wrong place." you swiped your keycard and entered your room, closing the door and pressing your back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor.

you were finally alone but the noise in your mind was still loud. you began thinking about your father. the man who gave you life and all the skills you are now using in the biggest moment of your life. that same man who tried to take this opportunity from you. the same man that you betrayed. your dad wasn't even angry. you remember his expression as it has been seared into your mind. you couldn't believe that you could be the cause of so much pain and sadness. he's your dad and you turned your back on him. he wasn't his usual self, that always had a comeback. normally he would try to talk his way in but this time, your dad had nothing to say to you and it made your heart ache.

you tried to remember axel, who would be by your side no matter what.

during the next day of challenges, you excelled. not a single point had been landed against you. axel was doing just as great. a true power couple. you could feel sam's judgement from across the room. everytime you caught a glimpse of her,she would narrow her eyes and say something to miguel, or robby, or anyone that was around. it was beginning to annoy you that she insisted on being mad at you. all her focus was directed at you and while she wasn't being beat on the mat, most of her teammates were. you wanted to tell her that being captain also meant that she had to be there to support her teammates and lead them. you didn't though. you said nothing as you watched miyagi do's rank sink lower and lower and the iron dragons stay at the top.

miyagi do managed to stay in the tournament, just barely, so naturally they hit the bars in the beach district with the other teams who avoided elimination.

you arrived at the bar under axels arm once again. the both of you were really liking how close you were able to be now that you were on the same team. axel was loving being able to actually be your boyfriend. it was hard to be apart from you for so long. there was so many moments where he felt he needed your support and you couldn't be there because of the distance but now you were doing this together. you were fighting the same battles and protecting each other. he wasn't too fond of how his teammates and basically every guy looked at you but he understood. you were incredibly beautiful and skilled. he knew his jealousy was a reminder that you were amazing and everyone could see it. that didn't make it any less unbearable when guys glanced in your direction with that certain look in their eyes.

the pit in your stomach had finally managed to subside and you were swirling your drink around in its glass while you listened to your teammates talk. they were nice, less intimidating than when you had first met them. the other dojos at the bar looked at you guys with curiosity and hunger. you were the top dogs. everyone wanted a piece.

and then miyagi do walked in. it was more of a sad stumble into the bar as they all carried a grim air with them. you could understand them beating themselves up for their less than stellar performance, but even hawk wasn't standing as tall as he usually did. miguel was missing from sam's side and sam hadn't even bothered to glare in your direction when your eyes met. something was wrong. "i'll be back." you said to axel and he turned his attention to where yours was.

axel knew how much you cared about your family and friends and what they thought of you. "want me to come with?"

you shook your head. "maybe in a bit." you stood up, kissing axels lips briefly before walking over to the table all the miyagi do's gathered around. "hey..." you spoke with caution. they all stared at you with the same blank expression. "how's it going?" you didn't know what to say but you knew saying nothing was worse.

"how's it going?" sam scoffed and shook her head at you. instead of going off on you like she normally would, sam walked over to the bar and sat next to robby. you were tempted to follow but you knew it would take sam a little longer to have an actual conversation with you as opposed to yelling at you.

"so when were you gonna tell us you're dating ivan drago?" demitri asked, curiously looking behind you to where axel was watching you with intent. you glanced at him over your shoulder and smiled. his expression softened and he waved at you and your friends. they all timidly waved back.

"his name is axel kovacevic and i met him at a tournament about 2 years ago." you explained.

"so that's who you're always on the phone with?" devon asked, eyes now gleaming with the hope of an overseas romance of her own.

"yeah." you answered, blush creeping up your face. "i wanna say that i'm sorry guys. i wasn't trying to lie to you."

"were you always going to switch sides?" eli asked and you shook your head.

"no. i really wanted to be your guys captain but everything worked out the way it did and then axel offered it to me. i couldn't say no." you pursed your lips together. "you guys know this is my life right? only two of those trophies in the dojo belong to my dad. the rest are mine. this doesn't matter to them the way it does to me, it was my only option."

"hey, i get it." eli nodded, surprisingly understanding. "i've done what i had to do in the past. it's not easy. we'll try to talk to sam."

"you didn't know about tory though, right? because sam is convinced you did." demitri asked.

"of course not." you shook your head. "i would have told her its a bad move." you looked at tory across the room. "what's with everyone's doom and gloom? i mean i know you guys were kissing the mat all day but what's up? where's miguel?"

eli and demitri looked at each other. "miguel and johnny had to go home. there was a problem... with the baby." devon explained and your eyes widened.

"is his mom okay?" you were fond of miguel and his family. he was like another brother to you and his mom and yaya always treated you like one of their own. they didn't deserve this.

"unclear." demitri answered and you looked at both sam and robby at the bar, deflated versions of themselves. you decided to make your way over, sitting next to sam.

"i'm sorry." you spoke and before she could respond you continued. "miguel and his family are strong. they're gonna get through this. i'm just really sorry they left and the both of you had to stay. i know you two would want to be there to support them." robby glanced over at you and gave you a silent nod while sam let out a shaky breath followed by a sharp inhale. her eyes were glassy as she had been thinking about miguel and the baby all night.

"i can't do this right now." she stood up and walked away from the bar. robby watched her go.

"go ahead robby." you gave him a reassuring nod, letting him know it's okay to follow his best friend. he did just that, leaving you alone at the bar. axel had still been watching you from afar, anxious to be at your side again. before he could approach you, someone else swooped in.

"what are you doing talking to the losers of the day?" kwon jaesung took the seat besides you. you glanced over to where him and tory had been sitting but it was now empty. the cobras had gone.

"old friends." you looked him up and down, sizing him up. you saw how ruthless he was on the mat, no matter who his opponent was. you couldn't help but worry that he would try to use his strength against you.

"really?" he asked, leaning in closer. "from where?"

you took a deep breath, deciding how much you wanted to reveal. "childhood."

"interesting. so why're you not on their team?"

"do you always ask this many questions?" you asked, confused as to how he was approaching you. you couldn't tell if he was trying to be intimidating, flirty, or friendly.

"just trying to get to know the competition."

you narrowed your eyes at him. "hmm... how's tory?"

"you know her too? wow..." kwon smiled amusedly. he was just trying to rile axel up and throw him off his game but now he realized that he had the chance to mess with everyone by toying with you. of course he would take it. "she's not as good as she thinks she is."

"she's been killing it." you responded. besides the point you landed on her yesterday, not one point had been landed against her. tory was at the top of her game, no hesitation whatsoever.

"guess i don't like people who have everything handed to them." kwon answered back. "not even one day in the dojang and she's already captain. pshh... please."

"trust me, tory hasn't had it easy. it might seem like she just showed up and had it handed to her but she earned that captain spot." you were a tory defender through and through. you had even helped your mom find help for tory when the karate drama was at its peak. you knew she wasn't a bad person, just misunderstood.

"right..." kwon clicked his tongue and glanced you up and down subtly. "and what about you?"

"what about me?" you shrugged and watched him sip his drink.

"did you earn your spot?"

the question took you off guard. thankfully, axel had came to your rescue, arm wrapping around your shoulders. "kwon." his voice spoke the name of the competition in front of you. axel narrowed his eyes. kwon was too friendly, too calculating, too smug and too close to you for his liking.

"axel." kwon shot axel a look you couldn't read and began walking away. "nice meeting you, y/n. see you around."

you watched him go and axel took his seat. "what did he say to you?"

"nothing really. he's actually kind of interesting to talk to." you smiled at axel, turning to order the two of you more drinks.

"hmm..." axel trusted you. he knew you weren't the type to lead him on. axel never questioned your feelings for him because he knew it was real. he just didn't trust kwon in the slightest. he didn't like the way kwon looked at you, like you were a plaything for his amusement. kwon was arrogant and entitled and he only hoped he would be around for any attempt at an advance kwon tried on you so that he could put him in his place.

mornings were axel's favorite time of day. it meant that the slate was clean and that everything was ahead of him. his routine was the basis of his entire person. he started the morning with a run to clear away all the fog in his brain, followed it with sensei wolf's intense training regimen and ended it with a shower. he listened to a lot of music but he most often found himself listening to something classical, usually chopin. to be the most center and focused version of himself, he needed to silence any noise in his head and body.

he was just finished with his shower when he walked down to check on you. you told him you wanted to practice your kata before today's challenges. it was a pleasant surprise to hear your laugh as he made his way down the hall. "no, like this." you were instructing someone, probably a friend from home. cute. however, once he stepped inside the small mirrored room, his stomach dropped.

kwon was at your side, eyes raking over your frame in the tight athletic clothes you were sporting. no wonder he wasn't getting the kata forms right. axel cleared his throat, catching the both of your attention. "axel!" your face lit up and you waved at him. "i was just talking about you. you. you should show us your kanku dai kata. even i can't remember all those moves."

axel had been listening to you but was locked in a serious staring match with kwon. "maybe some other time." the noise was starting to come back. an intense, angry static that overlapped with the sounds of people talking and a high pitched ringing. looking into kwon's eyes, axel could see what his intentions were and he hated it. "let's go, y/n."

"okay, i'm almost done here, there's just a few more-"

"now." axel was speaking to you but his focus was still on kwon. you glanced at your boyfriend and then at kwon, offering an apologetic look to kwon as you grabbed your things and followed axel out. kwon was left in that room by himself feeling like he had already won. he got a kata lesson from a pretty girl first thing in the morning and he got into axel's head, on top of all the damage he had been doing to miyagi do. kwon hadn't even broken a sweat yet while all of you were beginning to feel the heat.

meanwhile, you were struggling to keep up with axel as he headed towards the elevators. "axel, your legs are way longer than mine. wait!" you called out after him and he stopped in front of the elevator, pressing the button. when the doors open, he grabbed your hand and almost yanked you inside.

"what were you doing with him?" axel asked when the doors closed, leaving the two of you alone in the elevator.

you pressed the button for your floor. "practicing kata forms? why?" you looked up at axel and he was out of his usual calm element. his hands were clenched at his sides and his jaw was set.

"i don't want you talking to him anymore." axel said firmly.

you were confused. "why's that?" kwon hadn't done anything wrong. he was blunt and cocky for sure, but he was just being friendly with you. he knew you were with axel and he acknowledged your relationship all the time. he even gave you pointers and showed you a few offensive moves.

"i just don't, okay?"

"axel, you need to give me a reason if you're going to tell me not to be friends with someone." you crossed your arms, mood now being dampered after your good morning.

"i don't like him." axel couldn't figure out how to tell you that he just knew what kwon was up to without any real proof. it was all in his eyes. "and i don't want to see you with him again, okay?"

"i don't get it, why don't you like him?" this was the first you were seeing axel's jealous side and it wasn't your favorite. he had nothing to worry about and should have known it. you didn't appreciate feeling like he couldn't trust you around other guys. before axel could answer, the elevator doors open. a little down the hallway, your dad was standing in front of your room. "great." you sighed and stepped out of the elevator, pressing the button to shut the doors before he could say anything else.

"sweetheart." your dad walked towards you, engulfing you in a big hug.

"dad." you whispered into his chest. "are you okay?" you could tell something was wrong.

"no. can we go inside?"

"yeah, yeah." you opened your door quickly and you two stepped into your room. "what's going on?"

"i need you to leave the iron dragons. now." daniel sat at the edge of your bed and let out a sigh. he had just found out that terry silver was behind the iron dragons and he couldn't live with himself if you got hurt because of it. you rolled your eyes.

"that's what's wrong?" you asked. between axel telling you not to be friends with kwon and your dad telling you to leave the team and sam being mad at you, you were threatening to explode.

"yes. you don't understand. there are-"

"no." you stopped him. "you don't understand dad. i have wanted this for my whole life and you were just going to take it from me. you didn't even give tory a chance. you're so concerned with doing things the right way and honoring mr. miyagi but i know mr. miyagi would have wanted me to take this opportunity. he would have wanted me to be here."

"you don't know what you're talking about." with all daniel was learning about mr. miyagi, he didn't even know what his late sensei would think of the situation they were in.

"i'm not leaving the iron dragons. i can't keep waiting around and being passed up for every opportunity when i can go out and take it for myself. i can't keep going in circles dad. i'm never going to grow that way." the silence weighed heavy between the two of you. "i'll see you in the arena dad." you walked over to the door and opened it. your dad left. you shut the door and went into the shower, attempting to wash off the morning you just had.

at the arena, you found yourself alone in a practice room. there, you tried practicing the kanku dai kata that axel had shown you. it was a total of 65 moves and you only ever managed to remember it when he was doing it with you. you got about halfway in before you saw a reflection in the mirror that made you whip around.

"kanku dai?" kwon asked from the doorway.

"yeah." you responded, now rocking awkwardly on your heels. you didn't know how you should act, considering how axel felt.

"sorry if i caused trouble with axel." kwon said from his spot across the room.

you shrugged your shoulders. "jealousy. i get it. i'm not crazy about him training with zara all the time."

"ah yes, the queen of karate." kwon recognized the name. "surprised she hasn't tried to take axel from you."

"what do you mean?" you asked, grabbing your water bottle and straightening your gi out.

"she has a reputation." kwon said and noticed your expression falter. "i'm sure it's not like that though. axel would be stupid to let a girl like you go."

you smiled a little at the compliment and took a sip of your water. "are you serious?" sam's voice came from the doorway, next to kwon. she was walking with robby and miguel towards the locker rooms. you just couldn't catch a break.

"sam." you could only watch them go. "i should get going too. i'll see you out there."

"see you." kwon bid you goodbye, smirking to himself as he leaned against the wall. the fun was just beginning.

[writeyouin]

Hi. May I request a mtmte Megatron being shy and reserved about his feelings for his S/O and burdened with guilt as usual but the S/O is actually really flirtatious and affectionate. Basically s/O trying to woo Megatron with (bad) pickup lines and being absolutely smitten to a comical level. And also public display of affection if possible. ( mtmte Megatron is so adorably soft boy and submissive my heart melts)

MTMTE Megatron X Reader – Smitten

A/N – I was just looking for something to write on impulse and I managed to turn this one into a little drabble. I hope everyone enjoys it. I went a little less comical and a bit more sweet.

Warnings – None

Rating – T

You took a moment to observe Megatron, sitting in the rec-room booth on what was supposed to be a date. He hadn’t spoken in some time and while you were accustomed to his lapses in speech, it did not look like he was mentally composing a poem or musing anything pleasant. If you had to guess, you would say that he was once again stuck in the past, finding himself undeserving of anything even remotely pleasant.

“You’re feeling guilty,” You commented, your tone just short of being playful, as if you recognised the weight of Megatron’s feelings but were trying to help with some levity.

“I…” Megatron considered denying the accusation, but what was the point? You saw right through him. “I am.”

“We’ve talked about this,” You said, grabbing his servo and kissing the knuckle, glad when he helped you manoeuvre his body where you wanted it. “You can’t spend your life feeling guilty. What matters is that you’re trying to make amends for your actions now.”

As usual, Megatron became putty in your hands. Most times, he didn’t believe he deserved you, but it was hard to argue against your kind words, gentle caresses, warm kisses, and an open heart. You were the greatest thing to ever happen to him, and so when you told him that it was his actions in the present that mattered, he was inclined to believe you. It was that sort of attitude that ensured he never gave up or thought about returning to his old ways.

Megatron had spent centuries hating. To love was different. It was much harder to cherish and nurture a good relationship than it was to burn down everything around him, but it made life worth living and the rewards for his efforts were never-ending.

“Of course,” Megatron said agreeably. “You are right, my sweet. I will continue trying to build a better life.”

“That’s good to hear, Gentle Heart.”

Megatron warmed at the pet name. Until you, nobody had ever called him anything of the sort. He kissed his digit and pressed it against your head, relishing the way you looked in the ambient lighting of the small rec room.

If he strained his audials, he would hear the judgement coming from some of the surrounding bots, but what did they matter? It was like you often reminded him, he had not forced you to be with him, and normal couples were free to enjoy such public displays of affection.

There was a time, at the start of your relationship when everything was kept private and Megatron would not even consider walking too close to you lest people make their judgements.

Now, he took your hand in his and whispered how much he loved you, only too eager to give as much praise as he received. He laughed through your truly terrible pick-up lines, recited poetry loudly for you, and found other ways to show his affection.

For the first time in his life, he was happy. For the first time in his life, he was free. And, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t alone. What a wonderful way to spend one’s existence; alongside another whom he loved.

[pinklotushere]

Direct continuation of this

14th Century, The Wedding

The chapel was quiet, the flickering candlelight casting golden hues over the stone walls. Dick grinned as he clasped Dan’s hands, his voice soft but full of playful energy.

“Do you think the gods will bless us?” dick asked.

Dan raised a brow, his stoicism barely hiding a hint of a smile. “If they don’t, I’ll have a word with them myself.”

“For once, you’re not brooding,” dick laughed “I could get used to this.”

Dan smirked faintly. “You have a talent for unsettling me.”

As they exchanged vows, Dan felt something he rarely allowed himself to feel: hope.

It was short-lived.

When dick fell ill years later and succumbed to the plague, Dan begged the gods to take him too. Instead, they cursed him, forcing him to live with his grief.

---

Dan wandered through centuries, haunted by dick's absence. Time didn’t dull the ache; instead, it sharpened it, leaving him restless and yearning for the impossible.

16th-Century venise

The courtesan was beautiful, with dark hair and a sharp wit that reminded Dan of dick. He found himself drawn to her, lavishing her with gifts and stolen moments.

“You seem sad,” she said one night, tracing a finger along his jaw. “You’re always looking at me like you expect me to say something I haven’t.”

Dan forced a smile. “You remind me of someone I lost.”

She kissed him softly, but it felt hollow. No one could match the fire that dick had carried in his soul.

---

17th-Century England

The lively marketplace bustled with activity as Dan passed through, blending into the crowd. A merchant’s voice caught his attention, cutting through the noise with its cheeky charm.

“Careful, sir, you’ll scare the quills if you stare any harder.”

Dan’s gaze snapped to the stall, and his breath caught. The merchant’s auburn hair and bright smile were eerily familiar. He bought a quill just to linger, his heart aching with an unnamed longing.

“You remind me of someone,” Dan murmured.

“Lucky him,” the merchant teased.

Dan left, the stranger’s laughter echoing in his mind.

---

The Napoleonic Wars (19th Century)

The young soldier, Henri, had dick's cheeky grin and quick tongue. They met during a brutal campaign, bonding over shared hardships.

“You’re too quiet, Dan,” Henri said one night by the fire. “You’ve got stories, I can tell.”

Dan chuckled softly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Henri laughed and leaned closer, his gaze lingering. Dan kissed him, hoping the heat would drown out the emptiness. It didn’t. Henri was kind, but he wasn’t him.

---

19th-Century Paris

The bookshop was warm and dimly lit, a haven from the cold Parisian streets. Dan browsed aimlessly, distracted by the shopkeeper’s lively chatter with another customer.

“You’ve got a serious look about you,” the shopkeeper said, noticing Dan. “Let me guess—love lost?”

Dan stiffened. The man’s blue eyes and teasing smile felt too familiar. He handed Dan a slim volume of poetry. “This one’s good for broken hearts. I’d know.”

Dan nodded curtly, paying without a word. As he left, the shopkeeper’s parting words lingered: “Come back if you need more stories.”

It was sweet, but Dan already knew he wouldn't be coming back

---

20th Century A Bar

In a smoky speakeasy in New York, Dan nursed a drink while watching the barmaid move through the crowd. She had dick's charm and confidence, her laughter cutting through the haze of jazz and cigarette smoke.

She leaned against the bar, grinning at him. “You’ve been staring all night. Care to explain?"

“You remind me of someone,” Dan admitted, his voice low.

“Lucky her,” she teased, pouring him another drink.

Dan smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He tried to convince himself that these fleeting connections were enough, but the truth gnawed at him: they weren’t.

---

20th-Century New York

The train station buzzed with energy as soldiers boarded. Dan leaned against a pillar, watching a young man in uniform charm a group of women nearby.

“Not boarding?” the soldier asked, his grin infectious.

“No,” Dan replied.

“Suit yourself.” The soldier extended a hand. “Rick.”

Dan hesitated before shaking it. “Dan.”

As the conductor called for final boarding, Rick tipped his hat. “See you around, Dan.”

Dan watched him go, the ache in his chest a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place.

Dick grayson’s life had always felt... incomplete. He couldn’t explain the strange dreams that plagued him—visions of a medieval chapel, a bustling market, a quiet bookshop. He dismissed them as nothing more than fantasies.

As Nightwing, Gotham demanded his focus. Yet, during a battle with a rogue magician, something changed.

A spell struck him mid-air, throwing him to the ground. Pain rippled through his body, but so did something else—a torrent of memories flooding his mind.

Dan, he mind whispered to him

Oh.

Oh.

Dick spent months tracking Dan down, piecing together clues from his fragmented memories and his skills as Nightwing.

He chased whispers of a man who never seemed to age, stories of someone who disappeared when connections grew too close.

In every lead, dick saw glimpses of Dan’s regret—an unfinished painting left behind in a French chateau, a carefully preserved diary in a London museum, a love letter hidden in the pages of an old book.

Each discovery hardened Dick's resolve. “You won’t run from me this time,” he muttered as he packed his gear.

Dan was sitting in his apartment, staring at the same photograph. The weight of centuries pressed down on him, his guilt and longing a constant ache.

The knock at his door startled him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. When he opened it, his breath caught.

Dick stood there, rain dripping from his hair, his eyes blazing with determination.

“How many lifetimes will it take before you see me for who I am?” dick demanded, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.

Dan took a step back, his mind racing. “dick?”

“Yes, Dan,” dick said, his voice firm. “It’s me. It’s always been me. And you—” his voice broke slightly, “you’ve been running from this for centuries.”

Dan sank into a chair, unable to meet dick's gaze. “I thought I was protecting you,” he whispered.

Dick crouched in front of him, gripping his hands. “You thought you were protecting yourself,” he said, his tone softer now. “But I’m here, Dan. I’ve always been here. And I remember everything,i remember you”

Dan’s eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to save you from this... from me.”

“You’re not saving me by leaving me behind,” dick said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re breaking us both.”

The room was quiet, and Dan hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing against dick's cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan murmured, his voice cracking.

Dick leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. “Then stop running. Stop hiding. Be with me this time. For real.”

Dan nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything,” dick said fiercely. “But you have to let yourself believe it.”

---

Months later, Dan and dick walked along the Gotham waterfront, the city alive with its usual chaos. But for the first time in centuries, Dan didn’t feel haunted.

“You’re awfully quiet,” dick said, bumping Dan’s shoulder. “Regretting your decision already?”

Dan chuckled, a rare sound that made dick grin. “Hardly. I’m just... grateful.”

Dick smirked. “Good. Because I’m not letting you off the hook this time. You owe me centuries of explanations, love letters, and... well, everything.”

Dan stopped walking, turning to face him. “You have my eternity."

Dick's grin softened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Dan’s lips. For the first time, they were finally whole.

[sweeterelease]

no me digas que no

jegulus microfic I tiny gift for @alexsays-no I wc: 867

James likes singing to him.

Everyone knows James Potter indulges in a little makeshift karaoke from time to time, most times, nearly every fucking day. Regulus can hear him in the shower, while cooking, working, cleaning, reading, he could really just be existing and still feel the need to hum or sing along to whatever song his mind has fixated on that week.

Regulus isn’t really sure he gets music the same way James does, he prefers his poetry written dry on paper, it grants him the power of bestowing his own sense to it rather than sticking solely with the one created by instrumental. Regardless, he can appreciate James’ soft voice humming into his ear, whispering lyrics like he’s confessing his crimes to Regulus, even when most fo the time he can’t understand a word serenaded to him.

“Oye mi amor, no me digas que no,” James’ low voice melts into the back of Regulus’ neck as his hands wrap around his torso, he’s slightly rocking them from side to side to the muffled soft rock melody coming from the living room.

Regulus has heard this song before, enough to actually recognize it. James’ music taste doesn’t shy away from that many genres, so he rarely finds himself obsessed with the same song twice, but this, Regulus knows, this is his song, —he suspects James has subconsciously assigned it to him— it’s the only one James always, always sings when it’s just the two them.

“…y vamos juntando las almas,” James follows, Regulus can feel the grin against his shoulder. His frame completely secured by the other’s larger one, it feels like home, always has.

Regulus turns off the water after he’s done rinsing his hands and walks over to the kitchen island where he left his cup of tea. James hangs from his back and waddles right behind him. After a quick sip, Regulus places the cup down and leans back to rest his head on James’ right shoulder. He feels light kisses flutter against his cheek.

“Hello,” Regulus offers.

“Hi love,” James replies, letting go of his sides just to reach for his hands on the counter.

“What’s this?”

James chuckles, “A hug?”

Regulus sinks into it, welcoming. The embrace feels content, almost overwhelmingly so, “You're happy.”

Another chuckle, “I am.”

They both know it’s genuine, he can feel his own body feed from James’ energy, “Anything in particular?”

“Just this, you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter,” Regulus laughs.

James is silent for a moment, pondering. And then Regulus feels a gentle nibble at his earlobe, “Right, I forget annoyance got us here .”

He laughs again. Regulus seems to just laugh whenever he’s with James, it was strange and confusing at first, now he rather likes it. Regulus frees one if his hands to lift it up by the other’s head, fingers curling around unruly hair. James continues rocking them back and forth to the music, serenading him again when the chorus comes.

“I know this song,” Regulus points out.

“Do you?,” James hums back.

“It’s the one you always sing,” —for me, he ends up not saying.

James makes a pleased affirmative noise, agreeing with him. And because Regulus is always right, he says, “Well, it’s kind of your song. In my mind, at least.”

I noticed. He thinks it’s adorable, but he’d like to know more about this recurrent tune, “What does it mean?”

A beat, “You know, for a native-level in french, you’re pretty shit at all the other romance languages.”

James must think he’s so funny, hilarious. Regulus huffs and turns his head just enough to glare at him.

“Excuse you? French is the superior one anyway.”

James lets out a proper cackle at that, head rolling back, “Not in a million years.”

“So, do you secretly hate me? Is that what the lyrics say?”

James hums again to the music, eyes creasing at the corners from the grin pulling at his cheeks, “Close guess.”

See, while Regulus does have an —justifiable, thank you— inclination for the french language, he thinks the rest of the romance languages aren’t that bad. At least spanish, which he recognizes in the song, can be quite similar to his mother tongue sometimes. Hence, Regulus gets a hint that the song isn’t about hatred at all.

“I secretly hate you, too,” he whispers, right by James’ ear.

“I know.”

Regulus’ gaze drops down to James’ smiling mouth, his lips look inviting, he wants to bite. “Not much of a secret now,” Regulus can feel his own lips stretch into a small smile too.

“Shame.”

James closes his eyes as the song reaches its climax, tightening his hold around Regulus while he sings along to the bridge.

Oye mi amor, no me digas que no, y vamos juntando los cuerpos…

Because Regulus is very much not pretty shit at other latin-derived languages, he catches the end of that last chorus. He also decides to obey.

Sue him, perhaps Regulus does like spanish, but he knows James rather enjoys french as well.

[arzen9]

Can I Be Good? Chapter 1: Welcome to the Crimson Palace - Lark

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC 18+ MDNI word count: 2k tags/warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Not Canon Compliant, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Redemption, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Mystery, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Original Female Character summary: Centuries of pain, a ritual, (not) hunger, (not) desire, a lost soul, a search, a yearning, bodies, bodies... And a heart that changes everything.

Finally I am putting the modern AU story I've had in my head for a while out there, I hope it will be as enjoyable to read as it is to write it! I am VERY excited for this story to unravel. I will be updating the tags as the plot progresses.

I will TRY to update on a weekly basis, BUT life can happen!

If you're reading this, I LOVE you<3

I will be making a playlist to go with this story, so keep an eye out for that also!

“They call him…” Wyll pauses for dramatic effect, and downs his shot of tequila. “The Lord of the Night.”

Lark and Lae’zel blink in unison before falling into a fit of giggles. Lark even snorts. 

“Fucking unreal,” she says while she pours another round for all of them. 

“But you are desperate for a job, yes?” Lae’zel asks.

“That I am,” Lark responds and sinks further down the couch. 

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” Wyll tries. “You know people of Baldur’s Gate love to gossip.” 

“We’ll see if it’s a rumor or not, I guess,” she says and reaches for her shot glass. “My interview’s next week.” 

“We need to spice up, as you say, our hang out places,” Lae’zel suddenly interjects. “We always meet in one of our apartments. If we got out more, we would know if this boss of yours was really the lord of the night or not.”

“He’s not my boss yet,” Lark says, squinting her eyes as the tequila makes its way down her throat. “You’re right though.”

Wyll jumps in his seat. “I have an idea.”

The two women eye him in the low light of the room. 

“Why don’t we go see this Crimson Palace for ourselves? A test drive, so to speak.”

“I like it,” Lae’zel says flatly. Lark agrees. 

Because why not? They have never tried going to the most popular nightclub of Baldur’s Gate— owned by one mysterious figure, only seen by those who subscribe to magazines that compile lists for the city’s best dressed, richest, most luxuriously-living— Lark’s potential future boss, Astarion Ancunín. She has done some research online on him, but there doesn’t seem to be much information beyond his physical appearance— a man that looks like he was hand-sculpted by the Gods themselves. Lark had shown some of the pictures she saw online to her friends, garnering mixed reactions.

“Whoa,” Wyll had said, “He does look rich alright. A bit pale, perhaps.”

“He looks breakable,” was Lae’zel’s contribution to the conversation.

And that was that. 

Lark’s job search had been an ongoing process for the past seven months— ever since she graduated with her master’s in poetry. She had known it would be difficult to find a job with a creative degree, but not to this extent. Doing odd jobs at odd hours could only take one so far in life.

So when she saw a listing on a board online for a personal assistant to the owner of the Crimson Palace, she jumped on it; the pay was way too generous for what seemed to be nothing more than a simple assistantship. The job description said the position was temporary with the potential for something more (whatever that meant); there was a winter masquerade party coming up and the big boss needed some help (the listing of course didn’t say big boss, but Lark found it funny to call this sculpture of a man big boss).

  What she wasn’t expecting was to be called in for an interview literally five minutes after submitting her application. It was a woman she talked on the phone to, with a peculiar name— Shadowheart. Lark still wonders if it is some kind of stage name.

They take the subway to the Crimson Palace, all three of them already a little tipsy— clearly not finding anything wrong with going to Lark’s potential workplace to get shitfaced one week before her interview. She doesn’t dwell on it— if she gets rejected, she gets rejected. Nothing new. 

“Helm’s cock,” Wyll exclaims, earning a raised brow from Lae’zel and a squint from Lark, when they get out of the subway train and see the club in the distance. “It is a palace. You know, this place has some history to it. Rumor has it, it was owned by a cruel vampire once.”

“Definitely looks the part,” Lark sneers. “What’s it with you and rumors tonight?”

Lae’zel starts walking ahead of them. “I assumed we are here to drink, not indulge in history lessons,” she says. Wyll and Lark giggle but follow her regardless.

If the Crimson Palace looked grand from the outside, it’s even more so when they enter it: a huge dance floor greets them, the bar lining the left wall. The ceiling is so high that looking up makes Lark’s head turn. On what she assumes to be one of the upper floors, she can see a small balcony, big enough for maybe two people to stand together at once. It is a dizzying place— the tequila they’ve already had combined with the loud, booming music doesn’t help. But they’re here. For an excursion. 

Wyll turns back around to look at the bodyguard that ushered them in with an unusually friendly grin. “She’s beautiful,” he says, voice flat with a sprinkle of awe, as if he’s merely stating a fact. 

“Indeed,” Lae’zel says, making Lark laugh. The red tiefling woman is beautiful, to be fair. Even in the dark atmosphere of the club she looks like a flame, smile warm, eyes like honey. 

Lark decides that this is not Shadowheart. 

Lae’zel is not normally one to dance, but Lark pulls her to the middle of the dance floor anyway. Wyll makes his way to the bar to get drinks, and Lark finds a sappy feeling ruminating in her chest— their friendship has gone beyond asking. They just do, nowadays.��

“Perhaps Wyll’s rumor is true,” Lae’zel screams in her ear. “This palace certainly seems fit to hold vampires.”

“Better watch out for papercuts, then,” Lark jests but her friend doesn’t seem to hear. It matters not. 

They’re having fun. She might get her job next week. Everything is finally looking up.

That line of thought makes her actually look up, just as Wyll arrives with their drinks. Maybe it’s instinct, maybe it’s the flash of something silver in the darkness. All Lark knows is that, on the balcony she saw mere moments ago; there is now a man standing. Observing. A king overseeing the execution he ordered. 

Perhaps Wyll’s rumors are getting to Lark’s head, a little bit.

From the balcony, his gaze falls on her; a hawk zeroing in on its prey. The pictures online don’t do him justice, Lark thinks. Even from this distance, he is breathtaking. 

Quite literally, as she has to look away to remember how to breathe. She feels a weird rise of panic bubbling in her chest and frantically looks around to see Lae’zel take a sip from her drink. But Wyll is looking straight at her. 

“…Alright?” Lark can see his mouth move more than just one word, but this is all she catches. She gives him a quick nod before tearing through the crowd— everything suddenly feels too much. She is feeling too much. 

Washing her face will calm her down. If only she knew where the restrooms were. 

Lark just follows whatever space she can create among the drunken crowd, which isn’t much. For what feels like an eternity, she can’t even see where she’s going. 

Until she finds herself free from the smell and noise of everyone around her, off of the dance floor. There are no signs around; only an open arch that leads to a dark hallway, barricaded by thick, velvet ropes hanging from three carefully placed posts. Something tells her that this may not be the way to the restroom— but even in the middle of a panic attack she feels the pull of curiosity lead her down this poorly lit path. 

At the end of the marble-floor corridor she sees a flight of stairs; her feet carry her forward while her heart keeps beating in her ears. She hasn’t had an attack like this in a while. Taking a deep, labored breath, she reminds herself that there is no danger— she is out having fun with her friends. There is no one to take that away from her. Not anymore, at least.

Lark tries to take steady steps ascending the stairs. It is way too dark to be quick. When she reaches the top, she’s faced with another corridor, more marble flooring. Doors line both sides. The closest one to her is slightly ajar, a dim but visible light shining through. 

“West wing ass place,” she mumbles to herself, but carries on. Before entering the room, she looks around. It is eerily quiet here considering the dance floor is just below. Silence spell, perhaps? Closing her eyes, she tries to detect the familiar hum of magic. Nothing. That does give her an idea, though— she doesn’t know why she does it, but before she can dwell on it the word leaves her lips: “Evanesco.”

Now she can snoop around comfortably. The hope of washing her face has all but vanished, replaced with a relentless curiosity eating at her. The vision of the man standing on the balcony seeps again in her mind.

So that is Astarion Ancunín. 

The room she’s found herself in seems to be some sort of storage space— walls lined with shelves upon shelves of books, files and other serious-business looking things. They don’t catch her interest much. She can now see the source of that dim light seeping into the corridor, however— a singular candle stick placed on one of the shelves, as if someone just placed it there. Is this the Crimson Palace’s way of saving on electricity?

Lark peers at the particular shelf, which seems to contain meticulously organized folders, marked with names in alphabetical order. She reaches out and touches one of them— marked Raphael.  Pulling the folder out and peeking inside, she realizes that they’re letters. The first one out of the bunch is dated—

“A little early for your interview, are you not?”

Lark gasps, all sound coming back around her as if her ears had been clogged for days. The sound of music coming from downstairs. People laughing, talking. She loses concentration on the invisibility spell, and as she scrambles to turn around, the folder drops on the floor with a thud.

In front of her is the man she has now seen more than just a handful of times— a bunch in photos and then up on the balcony. Seeing him up close is… different. Everything about his appearance reflects purpose and deliberation, from the curls of his silver hair to the dangerous upwards angle of his lips. He’s wearing black from head to toe and for a second, forgetting what is actually happening, Lark thinks she’s never seen someone so perfect before.

“How did you—”

He gathers his arms behind him and looks down at Lark, crimson eyes in search of something she cannot fathom.

But then it hits her— the hum, the pull.

He’s trying to read her mind. 

Lark feels bad for him, only if for a second. He doesn’t know who she is.

She expertly blocks his spell, darkened eyes waiting for the disappointment on his face. It doesn’t appear.

“I believe you have lost your way,” he says with another plastic smile. He seems to be keeping his lips tightly closed on purpose. “Shall I escort you out?”

“I was just looking for the restroom.”

They look at each other, both knowing fully well that this is a lie. He doesn’t push.

“You might come to regret sneaking around like this if I decide to count this as our first official meeting.” 

There is danger in his eyes, but it doesn’t quite reach the amused tug of his mouth. Lark backs away from him, then steps to the side. His gaze follows her every move. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles. It’s a miracle she can find her voice in this moment. The intensity of those garnet eyes is not something magazine cover photos can capture. 

As she leaves the room, almost running, Lark keeps her head down. That panic in her chest is back— or— is it excitement?

The last thing Astarion Ancunín tells her before she is once again lost among the crowds is full of expectations, his voice silkier than whatever can be found in Cormyr.

“I look forward to seeing you next week, Miss Promise.”

taglist: @nerdalmighty @preciouslittlebhaalbae @aristenfromwarsaw

If you would like to be added to my taglist, please send me a message or reply here!<3

[thatrickmcginnis]

LINTON KWESI JOHNSON Toronto 1990

Toronto has had a big Caribbean diaspora for decades, so I grew up hearing calypso, soca and reggae on the streets and reggae on the radio, which is where I probably heard British dub poet Linton Kwesi Johnson for the first time. Not long after I started at Nerve magazine my editor Dave handed me an advance cassette of LKJ's In Concert with the Dub Band record, which became one of my favorite records that year. So a few years later when I was assigned by NOW magazine to photograph Jamaican dub poet Jean "Binta" Breeze (1956-2021) live at the BamBoo club on Queen West, I noticed that her backing band was Dennis Bovell's Dub Band and that LKJ was also on the bill. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up.

I had been shooting at gigs for years by this point and knew that if I showed up early and made my case to the promoter or road manager, I might be able to get a few minutes for a quick portrait session. The variable was always light and backgrounds, but I knew the BamBoo well enough to guess that there would be a blank wall somewhere upstairs. Light, of course, was a wild card. I got my little slot of time with Linton Kwesi Johnson before the show, and planned on taking a serious, faintly literary kind of portrait, but when I scanned the backstage area I saw that while I had enough clean white wall, there was only one spot that had just enough light for a portrait.

I had first read about Linton Kwesi Johnson in the British music press - weeklies like the New Musical Express and Melody Maker - so it was inevitable that I'd have those publications and their whole post-punk style in my head when I photographed LKJ: photographers like Bleddyn Butcher, Chalkie Davies, Kevin Cummins and especially Anton Corbijn. I loaded my Nikon F3 with Kodak's T-Max 3200 film, a film designed for pushing several stops (with a corresponding bloom of very textural grain). For his part LKJ was a more than accomodating subject, starting the roll with a few wistful poses before I began nudging him in the direction of the kind of austere head shot I had in mind. The roll finished, I thinked him for his time and hung around to do my job and photograph the night's show.

Since a portrait of LKJ wasn't what the paper assigned me to take, these shots didn't have a home. I remember printing one for my portfolio but taking it out after a few months; I kept having to explain who LKJ was and worried it was taking away from the impact of my book. Another way I was always second-guessing myself as a young photographer; I should have had more conviction. In any case these shots didn't see the light of day until I posted them on my old blog about a decade ago. Linton Kwesi Johnson continues to perform and teach, and has received countless awards and honorary degrees. Time Come, a collection of his poetry, was published last year.

[symphony-calamity]

Legal name changes are actually wild. What do you mean in order to change I have to do all this paperwork so I'll be able to prove that I'm still the same

[andmaybegayer]

Finished Psalm for the Wild Built and it's mostly not a book? It's a lot of tone poetry describing a very particular kind of wild place. I don't mind this but it's also not trying hard enough! I have heard this shit before tell me something I don't know! You're a sci-fi author you are required to get weird with it.

This stands out in particular because there's a back half offhand line Against A Dark Background where they're hiking through real forest in a radioactive exclusion zone primarily occupied by Androids who split off from humanity to live long-lived lives of contemplation and restoration where one character explains to another that real forest is this complex layering of old and new growth with tangles of roots and undergrowth and variable canopy, unlike your tamed forest near the cities, and I was like this is basically a whole book of this. That and cosy.

To quote some discussion I was having with @thosearentcrimes following her scathing and pretty much right review of Too Like The Lightning:

A lot of sci-fi writing is very YA not in like, contents but in how much it seems to be built on inviting the reader to self-insert. That's why the authors obsess over world building so much.

I can feel myself going back to basically every sci-fi book and splitting it in half between the Actual Narrative And Themes Part and the Worldbuilding Exposition Segments. These are not necessairly Only Characters and Only Loredump but in a lot of books they are.

It's a short book. It doesn't go far enough with the politics! I can appreciate some truly out there visions of the future. This was pretty vanilla solarpunk! I think that had it really gone for it with the culture of the Pangans I would have been more invested in it in general but "ah we build little towns out of wood and we eat organic produce and have a small pantheon of gods who don't really matter" just isn't that weird. Shout out to Caesein buildings though points for protein based construction materials. Azlon towers...

It did get me thinking about Solarpunk in general and I think one of the things that rubs me the wrong way about it is that it feels like a way of living for the end of history. You recycle and rebuild but you don't change, because to change you might need to do something new. You can only reach Solarpunk once you have done the things you need to do to produce enough acceptable material and land and space and productivity and knowledge and technolgy.

(There's a line in the book about "A pocket computer, built to last a lifetime, as all computers are" and like come on. Ignoring computing power, do you remember the state of cellphone screens ten years ago. Just the glass has improved so much that modern phones can shrug off impacts that would shatter an early-mid 2010's smartphone. It was not possible to make a display both good and hardwearing until recently.)

This obviously isn't always true and also Solarpunk isn't a real ideology, but the world of Pslam does not seem to be changing. The ideology espoused is that work is valuable but that you should never have to do it. It briefly touches on the interesting idea that Civilization is a machine that keeps you away from fear and hunger and pain and suffering, hell, Dex is a monk of Small Comforts. To me from there you draw the line that there always has to be work done to build and maintain Civilization.

I guess you could put this down to Small Perspective in the book. Small Perspective stories aren't bad, but they feel like the kind of conversation you have with friends where the requirement to be consistent or logically sound isn't there because it's understood that what you're doing doesn't matter broadly.

[riiwrites]

Do you have any tips or advice on writing,your way with words truly is amazing-♦️

thank you sm lovely anon, this is such a sweet compliment 🥹

i’m not good with tips or writing tbh, like one day I just started this blog and started writing and now I’m here I guess 😭 (funfact i acc ran an IT fanfiction blog back when I was like 11 this is not my proudest moment I shouldn’t have even been on this app)

i’m a big fan of english literature and always have been, im taking higher english next year for s5 and I’ve learned quite a bit tbh that I think can help!

1. my teacher always tells me to not repeat the same words over and over again. like for example :

“character watches s/o walk into the room with their bright smile and bright eyes”

instead, you could say :

“character watches s/o walk into the room with their beaming smile and bright eyes”

personally in my opinion repetition is good for both writing and poetry but using more adapted words can really elevate your writing. but that’s just my opinion on what it does for me and i try my best not to repeat the same words consistently. if you struggle to think of more advanced words you can use google because that’s quite literally what i do but you can also use a thesaurus, they’re quite helpful i used to use them in primary school for writing :)

2. another tip i can think of is using techniques of writing, this also goes for poetry too (as im currently having to study for my english exam on poetry). there’s a few techniques you can use in writing fanfiction such as

- metaphors (an implied comparison eg. “my mum has a heart of gold” - meaning my mum is a kind hearted woman. she is)

- similes (similar to a metaphor but it’s a direct comparison, typically used in the forms of “like a” or “as” eg. “she was as cold as ice” - meaning that her personality and demeanour is rather cold and stern.)

- personification (similar to a metaphor also but this connects human characteristics such as personalities or emotions to a non living thing eg. “the trees danced in the wind” - trees cant dance like a human can, but the way they bristle in the wind can make it seem like they’re dancing)

i know some of these people would’ve already heard about but i thought I’d add in the examples and explanations just to clarify it for people who are confused and want to learn about it

this isn’t a MUST you have to include in your writing or anything but these are just tips on ways you can elevate your writing and personification is specifically good for describing scenery so the reader can feel more engaged within the story :). these are only a few of the techniques i use so if you wish to hear about more please do feel free to shoot me an ask.

3. one last tip that comes from me in my experience of writing is actually educating yourself by reading some writings you’re interested in. one thing I’ve learned about writing is that you can gain experience by becoming influenced by other people’s writings on any part of the internet. not like plagiarism of course but i mean you can become inspired by the way they write and adapt your own writing style.

i’ve learned so much from my beautiful and amazing moots and they’re all just so talented, im forever grateful and proud for each and one of them :)

but i hope this helps ♦️ anon, and YOU are my first official emoji anon HEHEHE SO THANK YOU!! and i will be adding more to this tip list if i think of anything.

and please remember, anyone can be a writer. it doesn’t matter wherever you’re a natural or if you’re “inexperienced”. we all engage and write in different styles and ways and that’s what making writing such a beautiful thing to contribute in. so don’t give up and if you need anything at all don’t be afraid to message me, i hope you’ve given this a read and again, i hope it helps. <3

[closedrop]

So far I am 25 hours into Crisis Core and learned many things

(Crisis Core spoilers and theories ahead)

- Genesis has a Bible (most likely related to LOVELESS and his theories) and I joined his fan club

- Sephiroth has a fan club with “images that your average Sephiroth fan could never ever dream of seeing” apparently which is a bit worrying but I am also a Sephiroth fan club member so

- Tseng knows Aerith somehow? Willing to bet this is either related to her having been in I think Shinra facilities for a while. Orrrr something love related(?)

- Cid is in space training :) (I love Cid.)

- Cissnei is a character, don’t know much about her but she’s there and I don’t THINK she’s in the original FFVII but if she is she’s hidden because I dragged Cloud around on SO MANY side quests. (Cissnei your chances of living do not look good in the future I’m not gonna lie)

- I believe Gongaga is still intact and hasn’t yet been destroyed by theeee Mako Reactor I think it was sooo that’s probably gonna be an important plot point if that happens

- At least two of the SOLDIERS are gay for Zack or at least find him attractive in some way (which if they are, good for them, good for them)

- The fact that once you’re in the science dept. you can’t leave because they deal with too much sensitive information, that’s a really nice detail and I really love it. I learned that a few days ago I think and I really appreciate that because it makes Hollander’s stuff make more sense I guess from what little I do know

- I lied about Sephiroth he’s not the comedy character it’s Genesis, my man just shows up, spouts poetry(It’s always LOVELESS) and then dips. “My friend, will you fly away now. To a world that abhors you and I 🤓” (I’m sorry Genny ily I’m in your fan club 😞)

- Apparently nobody likes Angeal because from what I saw there was one person in his fan club and it’s getting shut down because she’s too depressed to do anything about it (unless Zack intervenes, which can’t be possible anymore because I missed that chance, sorry Angie 😞)

- There’s a lot of definitely not relevant small details(lie) Like Zack’s whatever limit break that he uses when you haven’t gotten the character’s image in the DMW yet. It’s just cross slash, which is Cloud’s 2nd limit break in the original FFVII (I can’t say anything about the new one since I haven’t played it yet- but yeah) Another one being Aerith’s bow, since Zack buys it. (I’m sure there’s more I can’t think of right now but yeah)

- Zack is 6’1” and his hobby is squats apparently which makes sense but I figured he’d more of a casual baking kind of guy. (Though he’d also be the kind of guy to burn like Kraft Mac n cheese so I don’t know if I’d trust him in the kitchen ever-)

- Zack got doxed lol (and Yuffie got his address)

- Zack the puppy.

- Wutai spies are very bad at being spies

- Every child is a con artist (except for that one that one time)

- Zack, master treasure hunter (Me because I have spent most of my time doing just missions and side quests-)

[ukyou-kuonji]

Idk there is a part of me that watched Marina's newest video, and aside from the aesthetics and the scenery looked at her and was very disappointed. How did she get from the minimal make up that showed her age openly and proudly in the Man's World and To Be Human videos, grey hairs and all, to this?

I know she's said that previously she was seeing which beauty regimens she wanted to maintain and trying to take a break from them, but there's something very offputting to me about the way she's jumped back on all of them. The obvious plastic surgery on her face. The instagram lives where she is posing and just happens to remember she is in a swimsuit and show the camera.

It's like the question she felt she had to answer (on what beauty things to do and why) was "Do I like this?", "Do I like the way this maks me look?", or even "Is the time invested worth looking the way I want to?" and not "Why do I feel pressured in the first place to conform to these beauty standards?" "How does conforming to them improve my life?" Which is where I see a lot of women stop. Which I won't get into here but maybe in another post.

Idk yes I understand there's real world pressures to conform, especially to a pop star, but I guess I don't think they'll go away unless you refuse to conform. And having a pop star do it, who has fame, influence, and money has a kind of reach the average woman doesn't and has the chance to make a real impact. It's just such a let down to see Marina get a whole new face shape after her previous public presentation.

Also it's super weird to me when she's released songs and poems about her previous eating disorder and body dysmorphia all through her early online work, first two albums, and book of poetry. Especially considering the themes of her later albums re: self image and love. And I as a consumer look at her poetry about being a teenage girl with an eating disorder and a fixation on being beautiful at 17, and see her now at almost 40 sing about how she finally loves her life and her body and it's like. idk. I don't think you have reached acceptance I think you paid to get the body you always dreamed of and the eternal youth you thought you lost out on. I don't think you have healed I think you are still in the grip of crushed expectations concerning your body. It's really gross to me and it's an image that offers like no hope of aging into acceptance and happiness or personal growth to me.

[brionysea]

Since this post made me curious: director's cut on the titles of clarity of catastrophe's chapter's? I'll admit I don't usually pay attention to them, but you've made me curious.

That, or director's cut on how you choose the quotes for each chapter, whatever you'd like to talk about more.

oooooh okay so I'm pretty sure that when I was trying to name the fic, that. quote image? y'know like a single line from a poem with black text on a white background. those aesthetic images that go around all the time on tumblr. it just popped into my head because I've reblogged it before. I want a storm I can dance in, I want an excuse to change my life really resonates with me so I had to track the origin down so I could use it as a title. turns out I liked the whole thing even more! I admit, I want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. I want an excuse to change my life. criminal that the whole quote didn't stick with me. my apologies to franny choi. oh and this actually might have been BEFORE I remembered that quote but I was listening to predator by the crane wives and unavoidable disaster, serial over-reactor is such a mike wheeler lyric I screamed. and startled the neighbourhood birds. they hate and distrust me now. anyway I personally find using song lyric titles extremely unsatisfying and uncreative so I didn't use that one, but it IS the title of my wip playlist!

and then the FIRST chapter... well, I actually wrote it a while ago for a different fic, one where mike doesn't actually jump but the fact that he just walked himself there without thinking about it freaks him out and he runs off to have a panic attack in the woods. but I don't think that really fits his character. if mike goes to the edge of a cliff, he's gonna jump off, y'know? mike wheeler doesn't back out of things. even (especially) to his own detriment. so, yeah, I changed the ending so it works, and then I was left with this opening that's FULL of alice in wonderland references because I guess I was in an alice mood when I wrote it (I've always wanted to just show off the fact that I have all these iconic quotes on my bookshelf lol), and I'm like. well, he's going to another world. by falling. in a downwards direction. down a rabbit-hole, one might say. there's a chapter title as well. boom

so, nancy. this part's kind of funny because the way I keep using poetry titles makes it sound like I read poetry, which I Do Not. I don't Get poetry. but it had the feel I was going for so I kind of just looked around until I found something that fits nancy, and I found lines written in early spring by william wordsworth, which has the link between nature (nature vs. nurture, the inevitability of the family, the inevitability of yourself, they're in your blood and you're exactly like them and you can't get it out and you might have been different but now you'll never know) and the human soul (in this context, nancy's, which reminded me of the way mike tends to influence things around him; like, the larger concept of The Natural World that is The Plot, which is the actual point of the poem - Nature, not The Plot). and then there's the fabulously nancy wheeler line of and much it grieved my heart to see what man has made of man. again, back to the family, saying that this happened as a result of human actions; because if we're going to be so honest here, if we're going to say that mike died tragically at 12. that mike did that to HIMSELF at 12 years old. that's going to be his parents' fault. and nancy was there, she lived it as well, she Knows that and I think it would be very difficult for her to reconcile with that and her own complicity in it, hence why she's avoiding her mother (she was already avoiding her father. poor holly.)

back to mike for through the looking-glass, which I think is quite self-explanatory. he's on the other side, he went through the mirror like alice, and now he's here in this mirror world. but the QUOTE I chose here is quite interesting, because at first I wondered if the actual LINE where alice goes through the looking-glass would be cool, but it's kind of not. not for my purposes of finding a short, snappy title, anyway. but fortunately, alice opens that second book by talking to her cat (she does this a lot, it's quite sweet) and telling it all about this other world she imagined on the other side of the mirror, everything she knows about it so far - so there were several pages worth of stuff for me to work with. I liked the part about the words in her books going the wrong way, because of the link to stories. like, stranger things is a story. mike's life is a story. but it didn't HAVE to happen the way it did. what if the words went the other way? what if things happened differently, happened wrong? wouldn't that be interesting?

chapter 4 was suuuuuch a pain, honestly. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it. there's a scrapped version of it in my drafts that's from dustin's perspective, where he's in after school detention for starting shit with his latin teacher, runs into lucas who's just come out of basketball practice on his way out, and they bicker about popularity and stuff for a bit. I had a VERY good title for this one in Because I could not stop for Death by emily dickinson, but the chapter itself just felt a bit redundant because we've basically already SEEN that conflict between dustin and lucas IN THE SHOW. I hope I get to use that title again later on because it's really just. so good. highlights of this scrapped chapter include eddie getting the cheshire-cat grin line (another character who's supposed to be dead, and then patrick showed up too, it was honestly freaking me out lmao). but honestly I don't really like eddie, and as much as seeing him again would probably help mike process his grief, I'm not sure if he'll show up again in the actual fic. eddie really would be a great cheshire cat though. oh! also, writing this non-chapter helped me decide on the fate of a very big character who was really holding me up, which I shan't say more on for spoiler reasons. another chapter title in my titles document that I'm not sure if I'll end up using is do not stand at my grave and weep by mary elizabeth frye, which is obviously REALLY fitting. well, obvious to you, at least. because you understand my cryptic ways

as for the ACTUAL chapter 4, I'm pretty sure I just. remembered the line about alice being like 'normal things? in this economy??' and it fit mike's situation very well. and THEN I looked at the ACTUAL line to make sure I got the wording right, and it's - first of all, it's this MASSIVE run-on sentence, which is very comforting as a writer. you really can write whatever you want forever. lewis carroll did it and his alice books are some of the most famous pieces of literature in the world. but also, the line is from when alice is eating the cake that makes you grow, which is relevant to both mike sitting in benny's restaurant eating food, and to mike being much taller than he was at 12. the second one doesn't really have anything to do with anything, I literally thought of it just now, but it fits! there's also, like, his personal growth or whatever, which is probably more relevant to the story, but you know someone's gonna be commenting on how tall mike's gotten now

which brings us to chapter 5, which is currently unfinished in my drafts, and is from hopper's perspective. my internet search for this one was very depressing - I was literally like, 'poems about children dying,' because hopper's character is just. so insanely sad. jesus christ. but that got me vespers by louise glück, which uses dead tomato plants in a garden as a stand-in for the loss of children, and seems to be addressed to... god? or death? or some unknowable face of the universe? which. sure, I guess. I won't begrudge anyone the way they deal with that horrific situation. here's a link to the poem; it's quite lengthy, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to use at least half of it for my regarding the tomato plants title to make any sense

did you notice the pattern yet? well, I'm gonna tell you anyway! here it is: all the alice titles are from mike's chapters, and all the poetry titles are from not-mike's chapters. everyone else is more grounded in reality while mike is tied to the story, the imagination, the fictional. isn't that fun!!!! it makes sense, too, with the way mike's coming into this mirror world like WHERE'S THE PLOT. I WOULD LIKE A DISTRACTION FROM MY BRAIN, PLEASE, GIVE ME A PLOT PROBLEM TO SOLVE, and then everyone else is just sobbing and smothering him in hugs because, to them, he's miraculously back from the dead, and that grief is Real in a way that mike has always ran away from as fast as he possibly can

[loredroppingwthecorpses]

Things That People With Kiddos Should Know As Someone With Kiddos

This is by no means an extensive list of things parents/guardians/caretakers should know and take into account when raising and taking care of kids, nor is this telling you how to run a household or parent, however, from my experience, these things can make your life SO MUCH EASIER and make the relationship with your kiddos and you much smoother. I'm mostly going to be focusing on more adolescent-specific topics, but a lot of this advice can be applied to kids of all ages. Some of these things that I mention might work perfectly for you and your kiddos, and some of them might not. Some of them you might have to practice working on or modify them to fit your situation. Not everything on here is golden for everyone, and not everything on here is trash either. What works for one situation might not work for another.

With that being said, let's get to it.

Take your kids clothes shopping in person as much as possible. Make them try everything that they pick on. Kid's measurements are weird and are going to be changing drastically throughout their lives. Find the clothes they like and fit into in person and buy them online for cheaper (or in person. Whatever floats your boat)

Do not waste money on surprises unless you know FOR A FACT that they're going to like it! What does for a fact mean? Well, they've either explicitly stated that they want the item, or dropped some obvious as hell hints! Do not go guessing and buying based on what you think they'll like, or what you like. That's setting you, and your kid up for failure.

Be interested in things they're interested in. Your kid likes Taylor Swift? Cool! Your reaction should be "awesome, you wanna listen to the Era's Tour setlist in the car?" or, "what's your favorite album, let's listen to it together!"

Similarly, if your kiddo creates (art, music, poetry, stories, crafts, woodwork, videos, coding, etc,.) BE INTERESTED IN THAT. Consume their work! Show interest in it! Ask to read their writing, ask to see their art, ask to listen to their compositions. They might not say yes, but make it clear that you want to, and that's something that excites you. This will bring your kiddo joy.

DO NOT. AND I REPEAT. DO NOT. BELITTLE THEIR INTERESTS. Remember: You were once a kid with wacky interests, too. Kids are always searching for validation, whether they exhibit it or not. And even if they aren't? It's just a dick move to make fun of them for something they like.

buy pencils, pens, and notebooks in bulk. You'll need them.

Oh, and sticky notes.

If your kiddo comes to you for help of any kind, academic or otherwise, you damn well help them. "I need help studying for my math test tomorrow," ok, whaddya struggling with? How can I help? Do you just need a body double here, or should I do some problems with you?

give them notes. In their lunches, on their desks, in presents, on the fridge- hell, stick it on their doors! It doesn't have to be anything long- just a simple "morning!" or, "have a great day!" works, too.

Tell them you love them and that you're proud of them. Regularly. I know there are some people who think that makes their kids soft but I assure you, you're doing the exact opposite. By building your kids up, and regularly telling them that you love them and are proud of them, they know that they are valued and worthy and loved. This will set them up for success later in life and make them emotionally intelligent and flexible. Also, kids don't hear it enough these days.

They're going to see some scary shit. You can't avoid it. This past year I had to report three attempted suicides and many more cases of self-harm that came from other peers and people I was very close to. I initially was not processing the fact that someone so close to me was hurting themselves or trying to kill themselves, and the reporting process (sometimes even involving police) was extremely traumatizing. When I finally did cry, it came days later, and even today someone might say the name of one of these people and I will immediately shut down and change my whole demeanor. And I know our kiddos are experiencing these things, so please, be there for your kids and always tell them that telling adults when someone they know is hurting themselves or trying to end their life is important and could save their friends and loved ones.

Be prepared for your kids to have some kind of mental illness or learning disability. Do not try and gaslight them by saying that it's "all in their heads" (no shit?) or that they're "making things up." take everything seriously. "Mom, I think I have adhd," alright, let's see a doctor and do some research. "Tia, I'm so tired all the time and I just want to disappear," darling, that's not healthy, that's a sign of depression- you're important and loved, how about we set up a session with a therapist so you can talk to someone about these feelings who can help you better than I can?

Always be prepared to help your kiddos and reach out to licensed professionals who can help them.

carry snacks with you everywhere. And not that healthy shit, either. Within your kid's eating restrictions, get something like a chocolate chip granola bar or a Reese's cup and stick it in your going-out bag. It will save your life when hungry time comes around.

Don't be surprised if your kids are queer in some shape or form. Support them, love them unconditionally, make sexuality puns as needed ("if you're not dating anyone rn, does that mean you're on stand-bi?") and do your own research in regard to sexuality and gender.

help them get ready for school dances and stuff. Makeup, hair, clothes, pickup lines, the whole ordeal. I promise you they're going to love you for it.

Make the puberty/sex talk a casual yet thorough thing. You want to cover all the information, but you don't want to make it so uptight that they never want to talk about it again or ask any questions. Pull up diagrams, do the whole shebang, but make it clear that they don't have to memorize everything in that very moment. Questions are ok, even after the fact.

Take them to the library.

For all your menstruating kiddos out there, stock up on pads and tampons and anything else they use every month/every other month depending on how much they use. Don't make it seem like a hassle, don't make difficult, just do it without question. If they tell you they like a certain brand or type/size/etc, adhere to that and respect it. Menstruating is uncomfortable as is, don't make it worse by not listening to your kid's needs.

Give them this thing I like to call Cuddle Days (or sensory overload days, or Overstimulated, Get Me Outta Here days). These are the kinda days that can show up on weekends after a long week and basically it's a ton of movies, pillow forts, blankets, and comfort food. And lots of cuddles, of course.

Don't guilt trip them for existing having needs. Your kids are going to need a lot and do a lot and they are grateful, but it just feels weird to express that feeling of gratitude as a teenager.

And, most importantly, let them be kids. Let them have pillow fights, and roll on the grass. Hang fairy lights up and tell them stories. Giggle about their crushes with them, and paint your nails together. Play Mario Cart and eat takeout together. Kids are so complex and amazing and it would be a shame if we took away the part about being kids in the process of them growing up, because one day they're not gonna be our babies anymore.

[melrosing]

What if brienne's mom was still alive? How much of her character/story would change? And what do u imagine their relationship would be like? 🧐

sorry for the late reply! I think I’ve written something on this before but im on mobile and i know im never gonna find it so. this is mostly hcs:

for whatever reason I’ve always imagined Brienne’s mother as a quiet, daydreamy person who doesn’t smile much but somehow exudes warmth anyway. Selwyn I imagine as having been a big character in his youth but he turns inwards after the loss of Cyril (my hc name for her) and their children. but anyway they were an odd couple in their youth but it kind of worked

the main thing she and Brienne share is a passion for stories, songs and poetry: I think Brienne gets her romanticism from her mother, and Cyril knows a lot about stormlands folklore etc and Brienne is always eager to hear about. they go on walks about the island together to see supposed sites of magic

otoh i think Cyril would be aware that Brienne looks different to other girls but her approach is just to never comment on it. which is fine at first but hard for Bri in adolescence bc she kind of needs Cyril to say she knows she’s different and that’s fine, but Cyril thinks if she says nothing then Brienne will never even realise

Brienne still would have suffered the insults of someone like Septa Roelle, who is more than happy to tell her precisely the ways she’s different, but she doesn’t want to tell her mother bc she’s scared of Cyril confirming it’s all true so unfortunately that never gets addressed

hc that Cyril living means Selwyn maintains his big personality to a greater extent, and he’s warmer towards Brienne as a result. but he’s often distracted by his role as the Evenstar so Bri doesn’t confide much in him EITHER

you know I guess it all really depends on what kind of person Brienne’s mother was in terms of what impact she would’ve had on Brienne’s story. I think she and Brienne would’ve been warm towards one another but not similar people, so she can’t necessarily heal all of Brienne’s hurts and Renly’s kindness is still enough to drive her to join his train

I don’t picture Cyril trying to stop Brienne leaving, she thinks it’s kind of romantic. but Selwyn being less inward in this AU, he does try to stop her as his only heir and that creates a rift between them. maybe that results in Brienne being more resolute about not returning till she wishes, or less so idk. but in short my hc is that Brienne got away with much of her nonconformity through the emotional absence of Selwyn who is too lost in grief to pay her enough attention

maybe in the least, Brienne doesn’t immediately feel so strongly tied to Catelyn, with whom I think there’s a slightly maternal relationship going on? bc she doesn’t lack a mother, that bond doesn’t feel so urgent as it does in ACOK, for either of them: Brienne subconsciously looking for the presence of a maternal figure, Catelyn missing her own children terribly and especially her daughters

idk hope this helps

[mailrebel]

And so, as they say— FOR THE BOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👀 ✨ 🥰 🤔 💞 ⚔️ 🙂 This is such a sweet ask game and you gave the greenlight to do this so of *course* I'm taking that opportunity to throw ALL OF THESE EMOJI AT YOU mwahahaha think fast, Mail!

Sparrow, I’m going to be frank with you. You seem like the type of person who melts at even the smallest compliment, so I genuinely fear if you’ll be able to survive some of the nice things I have to say about you 😂😂😂 But I appreciate your boldness! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!

👀 Share the story of how we first met, or how you first heard of me

I actually remember this one pretty well. Ari came into the TP server one day and she was so excited because someone had gifted her a fluffy TP Zelink fanfic. And that fic, of course, was yours. And I read it. And I loved it. And I think I gushed about it in the comments a bit and you probably replied back (I admittedly don’t remember any of what was said between us lmao). And then later we got to meet more through Discord and I kept reading more of your works too, and since we share so many similar interests it seems that we just naturally became friends haha.

✨ Tell me which of my works (fic or art) is your favorite! 

This is an easy one. My favorite fic of yours is “Alighting the Darkness”. Not only is it really sweet, and heartwarming, and fluffy, but it also just feels so poetic. To see all the little ways that Link brings light into Zelda’s otherwise dreary life. That is one of the things I love most about Zelink and you executed it flawlessly. Oh, and of course, this is the same fic mentioned in the previous answer, so it’s also the reason we met! So surely it deservers a little love for that too 😂

🥰 Say one nice thing about me

Sparrow, you are just genuinely so fun to be around. Our conversations are always so pleasant, and I especially love whenever you share your thoughts or analyses or your passion with others. Much like Link in your story (will I ever be able to answer one of these questions without referencing that story???), I feel that you bring light into the lives of everyone you meet 😌

🤔 What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of me?

The first thing I want to say is poetry! Because I feel that you have such a keen eye for identifying poetry in the things you’re passionate about, and I know that you’ve done it numerous times for the Legend of Zelda series. All of your works always feel like they have a poetic aspect to them as well, which is probably why I’m so awed by most of them lol. The second answer I want to give is “Gatekeeper fangirl”. If you know, you know 😂😂😂

💞 Guess who my favorite iteration of Zelink is

Hmm…I’m really not too sure on this one. I want to say it’s a tossup between OOT and TP…You’ve written a lot of TP Zelink stories so I’m going to take a wild guess and lock in TP Zelink as my final answer!

⚔️ Guess my favorite Zelda game

Another one that I’m really not too sure about lol. Again, I’m feeling that OOT and TP both hold special places in your heart. And again, I’m going to go with my gut and say that your favorite is probably Twilight Princess! You’ll have to let me know if I’m close or not haha.

🙂 Just wish me a nice day :D

Sparrow, I hope you have a wonderful day. I think that you’re a wonderful person and I wish you all the best 🙏 Thanks for the asks and for always being your kind and awesome self! :)