#i have so much downtime at work lately so ive just been writing a lot 😭

[hannieehaee]

i havent written any kofi/patreon exclusive drabbles like i said i would #oops so im writing a short challengers inspired vernon x dino x reader fic so pls look forward to that<33

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (iv)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption

series masterpost: here

a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals

Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.

All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.

To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.

One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.

Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”

There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”

“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”

Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.

Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.

“Caligula?”

“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”

Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.

“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”

The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.

She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.

Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.

He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”

It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.

“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”

“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.

She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”

“Stay with me.”

A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”

Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.

“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”

It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.

☼☼☼☼

When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”

“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.

Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”

Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.

“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”

“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.

Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”

Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”

“How does Gravy feel about it?”

“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”

Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”

The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.

She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.

“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.

Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.

He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”

☼☼☼☼

It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.

Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.

Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.

“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.

Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”

Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.

The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.

“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.

“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.

“Fuck.”

Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.

Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.

“So, have you kissed him yet?”

The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”

“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”

The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.

“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”

A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.

It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.

“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”

Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”

Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”

Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”

“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”

Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.

The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.

Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster (add yourself to the taglist!)

[theunconcernedembalmer]

Toko! I was thinking of creating an ask the character blog for IDV or Genshin Impact and wanted a few tips on how to start off. Anything you can share?

ey yo my dude!! thank you so much for this question, now im lowkey tempted (again) to make a genshin ask blog sjadhlkshgkahshglsaj anyway my 1.5 cents is under the cut, yall know how much i talk here HAHAHAHAH

uhhhhhh so i guess we start with picking a character u really Vibe with tm? I KNOW THIS SOUNDS LIKE COMMON SENSE BUT LIKE ive been considering making a genshin ask blog for a while now but i never really got to it cos i couldnt really decide on a character (plus the fact that their outfits are. so intricate. is also a hmm since i try to follow details to a t) (at first i wanted to do zhongli, but i feel like to be able to muse him well u need to know the lore super super well, which i dont n im too lazy to research on that aha. n u know how much i respect characterizations, especially for such a complex character like him. i also considered xiangling for a period of time mostly for guoba but also like i have 2+1 blogs here n having one more might not be a very good idea aha) (as for aesop he was my Hyperfixation Character tm also cos i looked at his kit n went Yep i could work with this. probably)

so assuming ur not a dumbass like me n u kinda know who u wanna pick, id actually say to snoop around here for other ask blogs n kinda get a feel of the... scene? is that the word? or like u know, other blogs that u can potentially vibe with. ive run a couple of ask blogs before this current one (both that have died for different reasons) n from my experience interacting with other blogs (if theyre okay with it, i think most should be) is pretty fun. it also kinda helps get ur blog around to other ppl on other blogs so they can go Oh whats this cool shit n check u out, n its also a reason why we kinda reblog promo posts for other blogs (also cos we’re always excited when someone new comes on, its really the more the merrier. we see all :eyes:). interacting with other blogs is also an option when ur inbox is looking real roomy too

another reason why i havent exactly done a genshin blog is that idk i cant actually seem to find genshin ask blogs around (i have seen rp blogs, or those that answer asks with mostly text instead of art, but thats. not my thing since i hate my own writing aha) (i did find one aether blog some time ago, but for some reason i hardly see them around anymore??? idk man i might be wrong). its not like im trying super hard to find them ask blogs, so im sure they exist out there (hopefully?? im not sure but im being optimistic). i mean theres nothing wrong with just starting an ask blog without others around, but for me i do find a difference when i interact with other ask blogs n when i dont, n i prefer when theres others to have fun with (unfortunately i couldnt find any ask blogs to interact with in my previous fandom. i tried, but the blogs i approached seemed to go inactive shortly afterwards...) plus u get to meet friends that way too :D (i made a lot of friends via idv askblogs n its really been a joy vibing with others)

as for the idv scene. gestures around me. unfortunately there are a lot of ask blogs that arent that active anymore, but theres still some of us who are alive n kicking empty inboxes, n im sure everyone would love to see a new face around. winks at u. also there seems to be a lot more blogs popping up lately, which is really heartening to see.

then u kinda just. make ur blog? n a starting introduction post so ppl can reblog it n spread the word XD n yay u have a blog i guess??? XD

i gotta say tho. dont expect ur blog to take off immediately (especially for smaller fandoms like idv, tvbh i didnt think my blog would even get half this far when i started cos of how non existent idv tumblr seemed to be) n ur inbox will probably be looking pretty empty a lot of the time (or at least filled with some that u havent quite thought of how to reply to yet aha) (but also like empty inboxes happen pretty often, im sure most of us here have experienced this problem)

in the case of the first ask blog i ever started, it never really took off at all. ngl it was kind of demoralizing n depressing but to be fair i had picked one of the more obscure characters in the series, so obscure that many ppl in the fandom would have never heard of this character before. if u wanted to know, i took a character that only appeared in the 2nd musical of the series, who also made a very brief cameo in the manga to acknowledge his existence within that universe. thats how obscure my character was, but i went with him purely because he was my favourite character. i will say though i did enjoy it while it lasted n i learnt a lot from the experience, n i think thats whats important really.

i guess this kinda leads on (not really but let me digress) to the whole uhhhh thing where if u choose a more popular character, u get more attention. which is fine i guess? if u really vibe with the character, i mean theyre popular for a reason. n choosing a more popular fandom (like genshin) would objectively also get u more viewers n numbers. but like honestly i believe that ask blogs are meant for u to have fun with, n like trying to get popular gets tiring pretty fast (this shouldnt be like a main goal, but u know sometimes u subconsciously also want that gucci follower count n bomb ass notes or something. i used to be guilty of this until i realized it isnt worth it) especially if ur not enjoying yourself in the process. (case in point: my previous fandom was considerably larger n my blog got about 700 followers within a year or so, but it got very tiring n stressful to maintain after my interest in it died, n no one was really interacting with the blog even though i tried which kinda made it even more depressing despite the so called success n popularity of the blog)

anyway on a less serious note, theres a lot of fun stuff u can do with the ask blog, like some ask blogs have really fancy tags that i really like n try to do but also like not really HAHAHAHA. i kinda just channel what i want to see in an ask blog into my own ask blogs (good art is one, i try very hard for it to be good :,DD another is characterization, n others is just extra miscellaneous arts n stuffs like au ideas or memes. these are also somethings u could work on during ask box downtimes perhaps)

uhhh another side thing is like a posting schedule i guess? like ppl would be more likely to interact (i think) if ur blog is relatively active, n this is usually determined by the last post u made (i think XD). but like generally for blog maintenence id say try to kinda find a frequency that ur comfortable with?? cos i know my once a day posting is kinda insane if i wasnt so hyperfixated on all of this n fight the urge to dump all ur replies when u finish them XD (though ive seen some blogs do that n they do it pretty frequently so its pretty nice to know once u see their post u can spend some time going through the latest batch of posts XD) the queue function is pretty useful here even though i truthfully have never really used it, i kinda just post from my drafts really but it also helps to space out ur content to seem somewhat active especially when u dont have the time to be working on replies sometimes. i hope u know what im trying to say here aha

ANYWAY that was like my 1.5 cents cos i dont even think its worth 2 cents HAHAHAHAH these are just my thoughts from running all my blogs up till now, some that are still running n the others that have just died a natural death. i wouldnt actually delete them (theyre still around actually XD) cos theyre kinda like archives n i can look back at what i did last time. cos ngl i made some high quality stuff back then, n i dont even know how i managed to do that aldhflhdsgk. also ppl do look at archive blogs every now n then for the content thats there yknow

BUT YES anyway if u do decide to join the idv ask blogs hmu, ill be sure to give u a lil shoutout here. winks

[lovecraftian-druid]

Pactborn - Part IV

Log #1 - Muu 3rd, 425

I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M A SAILOR NOW. It’s just after nightfall of my first evening at sea, and it still doesn’t feel real.  I’m proud of myself to be able to say that I didn’t get seasick like Papa talked about feeling when he first sailed on a ship. I like the feeling of the waves rocking the boat, and I love the smell of the salty air and the sounds of the sails as they flutter in the ever-changing breeze. Darja said that today was mostly for me to “find my sea legs” and get settled.  

I got to see some really cool sea creatures already: a few dolphins followed alongside the ship a ways, jumping out of the water as they flanked us on either side.  It was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. We saw a whale too, but we weren’t very close to it.  Still, they’re so big that when it sprayed water from its blowhole, it looked like those giant geysers from geography books.

I have my own cot!  It smelled a little, but something weird but exciting happened...I don’t quite no how to explain it, but as I was standing there, thinking of home, thinking of the little things that I knew I was going to miss, it was like my hands were suddenly not my own, moving in strange, somatic swipes and turns, til suddenly, I watched the soiled marks on the cot fabric fade away.  I was really surprised because...to be honest, neither Mama nor Papa have magic, so I didn’t think I did either.  Maybe it’s all this fresh air!  I got excited and decided to try again as practice, and sure enough - I was able to make the cot smell like my sheets at home after Mama freshly washed them in jasmine water. I might have cried a little...I don’t know what made me more happy: the smell of home being right at my fingertips, or the fact that I could make it happen at all. I decided to try one more time, this time concentrating on making a warm bed.  Sure enough, I touched the fabric on the cot and noticed the temperature change, warm to the touch. I’m lying in my warm, clean, sweet-smelling cot right now, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.  I can’t wait to tell Mama and Papa all about this when I come home.  Now Papa and I can both share stories at sea.

Log #2 - Muu 4th, 425

Today was pretty rough.  I’m so tired, I can hardly grip the quill to write this. Darja told me that today I was to learn the ropes so that I could start earning my place on the ship and make some coin.  I worked with Bardi - he’s the head midshipman on the Golden Afternoon. I’m not gonna lie, he’s a bit of a hardass. At first I was doing pretty well keeping up - he taught me how to hoist sails, check the rigging, and a few other things that I don’t really remember what their names were (I’ll get it though).  I kind of tried to show off at the beginning and used up a lot of my energy in the first couple hours, not realizing I’d be working that hard all day…

My hands are all chewed up from the rough ropes: they’re blistered and bleeding, and I don’t know what to do because Bardi said I’m gonna be doing it all over again tomorrow, too. There’s another younger kid on the ship - his name is Mica, he’s a genasi from the mountains in Sokoku. He told me that the same thing happened to him on his first day at sea and that he found that wrapping his hands helped a lot.  I’m going to try that, I guess.  I tried using that little bit of magic I found out that I could do yesterday, but it didn’t seem to help.  I wish I could do healing magic like the people at the Sanctuary can… Maybe this little spell is all I can muster though.  I’m still hopeful for more though. 

Log #3 - Muu 5th, 425

I had another dream last night...about the kind man with wings. It feels bizarre saying this, and even reading this as I write, I know I sound crazy, but it had to be real. I had a hard time falling asleep because of how much pain my hands were giving me; but once I drifted off, he visited me.  I couldn’t make out his face since there was no light at all, but I knew it was him...I could make out faint outlines of grey in the darkness, and I could see his wings curled around his sides and his massive shield strapped to his back. He didn’t speak, but just him being there made me sense that he felt...bad for me? Worried, maybe? He gave off a feeling of sadness.  He took me by the hands, and I distinctly remember feeling the pain as it did so at first. But then, I saw our hands begin to glow faintly, and a soothing sensation took over my palms - it felt like the time I burnt my hand on the brick oven and Mama had to rub aloe on them. After that, I must have woken up, because I don’t remember anything else; the dream just sort of ended. But when I sat up in my cot, my hands were completely healed. COMPLETELY. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but I’m so grateful.  

Whoever you are, if you’re here with me now or can read this, who are you? Why do you care about me of all people? Just...don’t ever leave though, okay? And thank you so so much…

Time to get up, eat, and go to work now - I’m not dreading it as much as I was last night.  I’m going to find some cloth to wrap my hands, just to take precautions. Hopefully today won’t be as bad.

Log #4 - Muu 7th, 425

Sorry that I missed a day: yesterday and the day before were pretty wild. On top of doing my regular duties, I was assigned my first night watch (not something I want to do on the regular). I was so tired from all the hard work that day, and then I had to stay up all night… Thankfully, there wasn’t anything to report. One of the other sailors relieved me just as the sun started to rise, and I was able to sleep away most of the day. 

When I woke up yesterday afternoon, we had just dropped anchor offshore from Felgra, the region to the east of Ghaan.  Papa says that his fleet is based out of that region, but Darja said we’re still a ways away from Port Cladach.  Instead, we were taking small rowboats to a coastal town called Fenwilde. It was nice to get a break from working with rigging - I finally got to do something I was good at: loading and unloading cargo.  I learned how to row a boat as we went ashore, and then we delivered some crates to a little shop called “Blink Bottles” and a few sacks of spices to a tavern called “the Boar’s Head.” 

Papa was right when he said that everywhere is a little different from home: there really wasn’t all that much sand as we got closer to the shore; and even then, the mainland was really boggy. And even though we’re still along the southern coast, it was surprising to me that it wasn’t hot - it was actually quite cool...just damp. There were trees everywhere, some of them growing right out of the shallow tributary channels, and everything was SO GREEN. I couldn’t believe how much moss there was in any direction that I looked. While in Fenwilde, we had a little bit of downtime while invoice papers were being reviewed and signed, so I took a quick look around town in an area they told me was called “High End” - they had all sorts of shops there, and one was a clothier. I didn’t realize how lucky I am to have Mama...she always made my clothes for me.  Clothes are expensive.  I was starting to feel chilly at night on the ship, and if other places were like this one, it was likely going to continue to be that way (or colder). I looked around until I found a cheap fleece blanket of emerald green. I bought it and returned to the crew.

When we finished the delivery, we rowed back out to the coastline, then continued out into the oceanic waters. When I got back, the sun was just starting to set - Darja told me to go rest up because I’d be taking the late watch again. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to keep doing this�� But I guess it’s only for another week or so.  I’m going to go try to sleep now...hopefully I can get a few hours of rest before they wake me up to take the night shift…

Log #5 - Muu 8th, 425

Last night’s watch was a little scary...as I was up in the crow’s nest (with my new blanket, thank the gods), I saw something off in the distance...it was another ship. I’ve heard rumors of sea bandits, or “pirates,” that sometimes prey on merchant ships in the cover of darkness, and I was terrified that what I saw was just that. The ship looked altogether foreign to me: what I now know to be a red-sailed jong, common among genasi merchants may as well have been the ship of the sea’s most dreadful buccaneer. Fearful and panicked, I nervously played with a piece of copper wire in my pocket from a repair I made earlier and felt a strange tingle in the back of my mind as I whispered over and over again, “Someone’s coming, shitshitshit, something is sailing this way, what the hell do I do…” Before I knew what I had just done, I heard the confused voice of Darja echoing in my head: “Ka’l? Is that you? Who is coming?” I had once again done magic, and I’m still a little unclear what I did to make it happen. I’ve heard about material components sometimes being involved - maybe the wire? Regardless, I flung myself from the crow’s nest, scaling down the rigging as fast as I could, to meet Darja on deck.  He grumpily informed me of my mistake in identifying the ship as ill-willed, assuring me of its safety by pointing out the markings on its sails, before he returned to his quarters to sleep.  I’m sitting in my cot, writing this, unable to fall asleep: I’m still jittery with shock from both finding a new spell and realizing just how easy it can be for a pirate ship to slip into proximity with us if one wanted.

Log #6 - Muu 10th, 425

Today has been a rough day. Darja called me to his cabin after supper.  I figured it was about my two weeks almost being up; maybe he was going to offer me an extension, or something… It turns out he’s just a creep though - he tried to...I don’t know, I think he thought I was interested in him or something. I made it very clear though that I was not. He told me that since I was so disagreeable, I would be on night watches for the rest of my journey back to Khaadeehava but would still be expected to perform my daily duties as well.  

I’m so homesick. I really love it out here on the Turquoise Waves, but I wish it were a different ship with a better captain. I rushed to get all of my chores done right after my watch ended this morning, then came back here to my cot to write a little before trying to get an hour of sleep before I’m needed to mop down the quarterdeck later. My one little twinkle of happiness is that - in my loneliness for home - I found another little bit of magic that I can make: I’m sitting here with my journal in my lap, and sitting on the cot in front of me is Mama...well, not really, but some sort of illusion of her.  She’s sitting at the end of the cot just like she used to do at the bottom of my bed at home when she would come into my room to say goodnight...and she has that warm, soft smile that I miss so much. I wish she were here right now.  I wish I had someone I could hug.  For now, I’ll just hold tightly to my fleece and pretend, I guess...

=============================================================

Thank you, as always, for following me through this journey of fleshing out one of my PCs’ backstory! If you’re interested in being included on the taglist, just send me a message.

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites, @mayvinwrites​

[phantomonabudget]

“Collateral Beauty”

[published on 15 Nov 17]

When The Chronicle invited me to write for them, I had grand visions of regaling the horse world with tales of Soon and I.  Soon, my intrepid and worldly off the track Thoroughbred (OTTB) gelding, who went on a tear with me this summer and accomplished some pretty incredible things. Perhaps I would write about our summer riding with Joe Fargis and Linda Zang, or perhaps the journey of training your own OTTB on an amateur schedule, or what life is like balancing horses and another career.  Perhaps I still will.  

…But I never imagined I would be describing to you all how he died.

It was just after midnight on the morning of Sunday, November 12, 2017.  In the end, I suppose it was fitting that Soon’s final day was Veterans’ Day.

You see, Soon was a true War Horse.  He had 52 starts on the race track over the course of five years.  He had run-away wins, and wins that came down to the wire, where he dug in and showed real grit in order to run down his opponent.  I bought him off the track in 2013, he was sound as a dollar and came with a sort of old-soul wisdom that you only find in those older war horses.  He was the closest thing to rational I had ever seen in a horse.  He was far too polite to be anything but perfect.  His work ethic and athletic ability were just icing on the cake.  He loved his people, too.  I have said many times, that if I had the ability to custom-build a horse for my needs, I could not have done a better job than Soon.  Who he was is what made him so great.

They say old soldiers never die, they simply fade away…

After Soon’s brilliant display of Thoroughbred qualities at the September George H. Morris clinic, he and I followed it up with a successful jumper show.  Afterward, when we came home, I found myself a bit lost and lacking motivation.  Our big push for 2017 was the GM clinic, and there was a bit of an empty space to fill once we were beyond it.  There was a lot of hacking; we both needed some extra downtime. 

That all came to an abrupt end on Saturday, October 14.  Soon colicked badly late that morning, and did not respond to the intravenous Banamine. I called an emergency vet, who dropped everything she was doing to come out, but in the meantime, Soon grew increasingly painful.  It was so great that multiple times he collapsed; twice I thought he was about to die in my arms.  I could not believe what was happening.  My nightmare. My nightmare was happening.  

It was exactly like the ending in Phar Lap, but without the cute Australian dude.

The vet arrived, but we knew after the exam that he needed to be at a surgical center.  We topped off his sedation and pain relief, and I loaded Soon up and drove him to the equine hospital.  He was in surgery shortly thereafter for a displaced large colon, and some twisting of the small intestine.

The next three weeks were an up and down saga of immense and unhappy proportions.  He suffered numerous complications.  Every day I made the three-hour round trip to visit, and every day I rode that emotional rollercoaster between expecting him to go home, and expecting to have to put him down.  I was in a living hell.

The surgeons and staff pulled out all the stops, and eventually got Soon stabilized to the point where they were comfortable with him going home.  He would be in an equine hernia belt harness for some time, require follow up exams and a lot of work, but he could go home to continue his recovery. I was ecstatic.  He was happy to be home, looked so bright and happy, until he had another bout of colic that afternoon.  He came out of it, and the next couple of days were uneventful, but there was this overwhelming feeling of stress and dread in the back of my mind. 

One Last Fight

Late on Saturday, November 11, Soon colicked again.  The vet arrived immediately and sedated him.  We were hoping after the exam that he would be more comfortable.  Perhaps all he needed was a little extra help and some IV fluids.  But after the exam it was clear he had a new issue with the small intestine.  We called his surgeons at Leesburg and they discussed options.  I did not want to send him back to the hospital.  This horse, who had given me everything he had for four years, had been through hell.  If he came out of the sedation and drugs well enough, then we would continue.  If he started acting painful, based on his pain level and the palpation of the small intestine, I would put him down on the farm.

Unfortunately, once the drugs wore off he became painful again, and knowing where I stood, we all agreed that he had enough, and it was time.  Soon fought bravely for a month, and never complained.  He maintained an incredible attitude through it all, but looking at him that night, with him being in that much pain, I knew. 

He tried.  I tried.  All his medical staff had tried everything.  This just was not meant to be.  It is possible that there was not any amount of medicine that was going to cure him, and he certainly did not deserve to be put through any more.

It was here that I was grateful for never taking a moment for granted with this horse.  I lost a great horse before, and what I would give for one more afternoon with her.  I know how fragile these animals are, and how tomorrow is never guaranteed.  At the end of every ride, I always kissed Soonie goodnight, told him that I loved him, and more recently this year, always said thank you. Every ride.

I had a moment alone in the stall with him to say goodbye.  I pressed my forehead against his and cried; I told him he was the greatest thing that ever happened to me.  I said “Thank you Brother, for everything.”  I told him I loved him.  Then he was ready.  He practically dragged me out of the stall.  He went peacefully just after 12:30am, I was with him the entire time.

I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude the hospital staff for everything they did for Soonie and me.  I also want to sincerely thank our vet for her quick response and compassionate care.  You are an angel.  Please know that you are all my heroes.  

Soon was my “heart horse.” And it felt, and still feels, like my heart has been ripped from my chest, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound from which there is no recovering.

 The Collateral Beauty

There is an idea, the concept of collateral beauty, which struck some raw nerves with me over the last month of this struggle.  The idea that there is beauty to be admired in the face of tragedy, or even because of that tragedy, sounds poetic, but in the midst of that struggle, how do you bring yourself to appreciate it?  Is it even real, or just something that people say to make you feel better?

The collateral beauty in the wake of Soon’s hospitalization, and later his death, is bittersweet, but obvious.  It is having the extra time to say goodbye to my sweet boy.  It is knowing that he was at home when he passed.  I feel it in the condolences and messages of support I have received from close friends, family, even perfect strangers.  It is the connection I feel to fellow horsemen who have gone through this too.  It is in the comfort I have knowing we exhausted every effort to give Soon the chance to live.  In knowing that he is no longer in pain, no longer suffering, no longer facing an uncertain future.

Collateral beauty is reconnecting with someone from my past, someone I never expected to hear from again, and that person supporting me through this tough time.  It is in the possibility of healing, of possibly keeping up to date with a kid I once loved as my own, and who is no longer in my life.

 Collateral beauty is one of your friends dropping what they were doing and spending the night in a freezing cold barn with you while you sit up with a colicky horse. It is another friend being there and holding your hand in your horse’s final moments, reassuring you that you did the right thing.  Collateral beauty, in this instance, is me seeing the good in people. 

Maybe that was Soon’s final gift to me: the hope that maybe not every person is going to let me down.  That maybe now, thanks to his help, I am strong enough to get through this on my own.

Collateral beauty is real. Do not let a tragedy blind you to the fact that perhaps there is some good that can come out of it.  It will not bring Soon back to me, and it will never make it right.  But it is there.  You have to want to see it and accept it.  

It is difficult to not be extremely reflective in moments like this, to not search for some higher purpose or meaning to losing the one you love.  But it is impossible to ignore or deny that Soon came into my life for a reason.  He picked me up when I could not rise; he gave me a reason to believe in love again. He taught me how to smile again, how to take a leap of faith, how to be courageous.  This scrappy little racehorse crossed discipline lines and impressed legends like George Morris, Joe Fargis, and Linda Zang.  He made me a better horseman and competitor. 

And in his passing, Soon showed me I can stand on my own again.  He was ready, and so was I.  I just did not know it yet.

He was a horse of a lifetime.  I often correct people when I say that I did not rescue him; he rescued me.  We pushed each other and he truly made my dreams come true.  He wanted nothing, and yet gave me everything.  He was all heart, all class, all the way through the very end. 

His name was Soon.  I want the whole world to know who he was, and what he meant to me.

 Long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you I was screaming long live that look on your face And bring on all the pretenders One day, we will be remembered

(Taylor Swift, “Long Live”)