#i mean I am mentally ill so of course I entertained the idea of having tonsil cancer briefly

[zesbian]

i need to be physically restrained from googling symptoms cause I just looked up “one tonsil swollen bigger than other” and all the results were like TONSIL CANCER YOU HAVE TONSIL CANCER DING DING DING CONGRATULATIONS ON THE TONSIL CANCER

[meichenxi]

Language learning: slow learning versus toxic productivity

Or: the process in crisis

Five years ago, all of the productivity advice I read (and gave out) as a successful self-learner of many different languages had one basic premise: that I was not doing enough, and that I could always be doing more.

Several burnouts later, running headlong from one mental illness into another, I'd like to invite you to entertain the exact opposite idea: there is a limit to what you can do. I have run face-first into mine on multiple occasions, and burnt out. At many points I've stopped learning the language at all. Most importantly, I've learnt to be distrustful of the very premise that all of the so-called productivity or optimisation advice is based on.

More is not always more.

Listen to a podcast in the target language whilst you exercise. Exercise to give yourself more energy to learn your target language. Talk to yourself in the shower in your target language. Do Anki whilst eating breakfast. Listen to Glossika whilst walking to work. Change your phone settings to your target language. Bullet journal. Manage your time. Make friends in your target language. Control your time. Write a diary. There's always enough time. These are all things I have done myself and recommended others do, to increase exposure to the language, to increase productivity.

Productivity? What productivity? What, exactly, is it that we are producing? I am producing sentences and words but - for who? Who is listening? Nobody's here, in my room, at 7am on a Sunday. If productivity were just speaking or writing, I'd be productive in my native language too, by virtue of speaking out loud. Or conversely, in language learning circles, should we measure it in terms of input? How many hours did you spend listening to Chinese yesterday? What about today? Is there anything you do in your life, in your daily life, that you could optimise? You're wasting time. There's time here, for those that want it. If you want to get ahead, to be successful, to be a good language learner, you have to know how to use that time. Go online, and debate over which tools are the best; watch your videos. What exactly is it that is being produced?

Productivity is a measuring tool for concrete output: the productivity of a field means how much crop it can yield per harvest. The productivity of a factory is how many mobile phone chargers it can bring to market per year. There are direct and measurable ways to increase this sort of productivity. But what is productivity when it comes to knowledge work? Cal Newport's work, The Minimalists, Essentialism: they all run into the same problem, which is that nobody seems to know what 'productivity' for knowledge workers means at all. You can look at a factory line and see which parts need greasing up, figuratively or literally: it is very difficult, on the other hand, to look at the work of a self-contained writer and tell her where she is going 'wrong'. (And by 'wrong', I mean - slow.) And language learning is an even more particular subset of that particular subset of work.

You could judge a novelists' productivity two ways: by the 'busyness' of her daily writing routine, or the amount of novels she produces. But what exactly is being produced when we learn a language? What is the end product?

In some ways, language learning as a hobby is even more playful than traditionally thought of arts and crafts. (By 'play' I mean something which is done for its own sake, and which is pleasurable, and which may yield next to no monetary reward.) We might think of the poet as sitting on a tree and dangling his feet in the river, a vision of artful indolence, but at the end of the day there is output - a poem. A knitter has a jumper. A potter has a pot. But language learning doesn't follow this [work] + [time] = [tangible output] structure. We can't even use the second metric of 'productivity' to measure it at all. Something is being done, of course - I can learn to speak Greek, and speak it markedly better after two months than one - but my point is you can't look at a day's work and say, this is exactly how much I learnt. Learning is not memorisation in the short term - it's receiving input, and practicing how to wield and use a structure. It doesn't happen over the course of a ten-minute podcast.

Learning happens - encoding happens - when the brain is doing other things. In other words, much like every creative process, you need downtime. You need rest, and sleep, and fun, and brightness and joy in your life. You might 'remember' a bunch of words on Anki, but you need to sleep before you can review them again: that's the whole point.

There is a much wider problem here, a culture of goals and optimising your life and glowing up, and to be honest, I find it disturbing. I think that for a very long time my language learning metrics were a stand-in, a relic, for the kinds of unhealthy and obsessively perfectionist thinking that gave me an eating disorder. How many of us truly believe - genuinely, with every inch of our heart - that we are better people if we 'better' ourselves? Learn more. Exercise more. Study more. How do you feel about yourself at the end of a day, exhausted, because you've completed day 75/100? Do you feel better about yourself because you've achieved? I'm guessing that you do.

For many people - including for myself - this wider culture has spilled over into their hobbies. Hobbies like language learning in particular are a target for this because they are so easily quantifiable - and we are encouraged, if we want to succeed, to quantify them. How else will we know how to improve?

Over the last few years, after burning out, after living off grid and without wifi and doing extreme minimalism and a lot of other lifestyle experiments to try and understand why modern life is so fucking hard, it's become clear that most systems of 'productivity' measure 'optimisation' by getting the most done in a day, but they don't stop to question whether you should be doing those things at all.

They don't stop to ask: what matters? They don't stop to ask: why am I trying to write a novel, finish my dissertation, pursue a romantic relationship, get healthy, learn ice-skating, learn to cook, look after my aging parents, and learn guitar at the same time? They don't ask: how do I prioritise, and where do I find silence? They ask: how do I cram more time in the day? They don't ask: how do I slow time down? They don't ask: how can I know what matters, if I never give myself space to think?

In other words: 'productivity' in language learning is measured by 'busy-work', by how much you can see from the surface.

You can't measure how well the learning is going, exactly, but you can measure how many hours a day you show up and grind. Whether or not that struggle is the best use of your time, or whether you're spending the time on things that will truly bring you value and quality, is a different question altogether.

And it's not one most 'productivity culture' will ever ask.

There will be things in your language learning journey that, to borrow from self-help terminology, no longer serve you. Habits and relics and resources and mindsets that worked for you once, or no longer did. Those books that are too advanced that you feel like you 'should' be able to read. That textbook that's been sitting beside your bed for a year. That habit of scrolling social media in your target language that was helpful when you were at a more intermediate level, but does little for you now that you're advanced.

Take stock of these. Simplify. Do less, but do it better. Productivity culture never stops to ask: what can I do without? It always asks, instead: how can I do more? But maybe - just maybe - the way to do more is to focus on fewer things, but do them well.

Multi-tasking isn't multi-tasking, but switching quickly between different focuses of attention. The average American owns 300,000 things, and watches television for 4-5 hours a day. On average, if you are distracted, it takes you 20 minutes to reach the same level of deep focus: but the average American office worker opens an email within six seconds of receiving it. Are you any better with your phone? How much time do you spend there? If you meditate, that's wonderful, but do you have any time to let yourself think? To walk and to understand how to feel? I don't want to sound like a boomer, but: can you name the birds? Do you live in a place, not just a room?

Stop trying to be 'productive'. Do less. Do it well.

I am now facing a wall in my learning of Chinese, and I'm still not sure how to get around it. The reason for this is because so much of the advice I gave others around language learning, and so much of the advice I found online, is focused on this sort of optimisation. But I no longer want to be listening to something, to be watching something, every second of every day. I have a partner to love and a house to appreciate and I want to spend time, humming and pleasant, alone with my thoughts, and it's summer, dear diary, and I don't want to stay indoors. Routines can keep you afloat, but they can also drown you. Do something different. Do something new. Do something that is not productive, that produces nothing, idle away, walk to work without music and perhaps when you sit down to your language learning that evening, you'll be filled with a renewed vigour and love for it. Do it because you love it, not because you scheduled it in your calendar.

A lesson, related, from my martial arts teacher. He said:

If you are tired, do not train. If you do not train, rest. 'Rest' does not mean go on your phone.

The same principle applies here. If you are tired of learning, which you may well be, rest. Not going on your phone, not watching Netflix. I mean taking a walk and sitting under the tree and looking at the patterning of the sky. I mean lying with your dog and absently scratching his tummy. If you're tired, and you have the luxury to stop - stop. Let yourself be tired. Don't drink caffeine. Sleep.

Last year, I was able to write 340,000 words of fiction because I focused on one thing: writing my book. Apart from things that I literally needed to do to survive and maintain my health and relationships around me, I didn't set a single other to-do. My daily list looked like: write for three hours. Not a word limit. Not exercise, though I ended up doing that, not learning a language. I imagine that if I had tried to focus on Chinese at the same time that I wouldn't have achieved anywhere near half the result. I still learnt Chinese, a very decent amount - I went to China and Taiwan for three months in total! - but I did it because I wanted to, of a whim, on a Sunday, something fun. It wasn't a must, or anything I was forcing myself to do. Many days I didn't do any Chinese at all. It was so immensely freeing to be able to think, at 11am: I'm finished for today. Even when I was at work, because I knew I was just there to pay the rent, I felt serene. Stressed on a day-to-day level, certainly, because all work is stressful, but - there wasn't any striving. I just did the best I could. And that was enough.

I am writing this, now, as I come out of my first ever information-overload burnout. I've burnt out, but I've never experienced one of these before: even looking at a book, at a phone, physically hurt my eyes. I couldn't bear to listen to people speak and would lock myself away in my room. I physically felt I could not talk, and had to take extensive time off work. Even looking at a pen and a blank page was too much; listening to podcasts was too much; reading the instructions for dinner was too much too. The only way I could heal was by doing absolutely nothing at all. That period shocked me deeply, because it showed me how absolutely dependent I was on having some input of information all of the time. No wonder I was tired.

I know, now, that there are lots of movements built around this same idea, by frustrated learners all over the world: the growing realisation that metrics and Excel and polylogger and tracking tracking tracking can't be the only way to learn. That a list of the number of books you've read in one year is hardly indicative of how well you understood those books, and what you learned from them. You've read 20 books this year already - good job. When do you think about them? What time do you spend on reflection? Why did you choose those books? Which chapters, and which characters, hit you the hardest? Why?

Minimalism, deep work, 'monk mode', essentialism, every writer's dream to run away and write in a cabin in the woods, slow learning, Buddhism, Stoicism, Marie Kondo-ism, the art of less, project 333, my no-buy-year, slow fashion, slow food, slow travel:

What all of these philosophies have in common is the idea that doing things deliberately ('mindfully') means 1) doing things slowly, 2) doing things well, and 3) doing things one at a time.

I am now at a place in my life where I understand the value of time alone with my thoughts. I don't want to listen to podcasts every minute of the waking day, because I need time to think about them. I need time to let the ideas for my novel grow in the dark. Nothing can be heard in noise; so make space for silence. I am a member of the real, living, breathing world, and that means I cannot devote 8 hours a day to Chinese television shows like I could when I was 20. I have to call my father. I have to do the dishes. I want to flex my creative muscles in other ways. Alternatively - I no longer believe that my worth is tied up inherently with how well I do my hobbies.

You're just some guy. There's freedom in that. You, my friend - you suck <3

Let yourself be bad. Let yourself be mediocre. Let yourself 'slide backwards' or regress, because all that means is that you're putting focus somewhere else. It'll come back. It always does.

I'm no longer comfortable, therefore, with the way that the language learning community tackles productivity. Please don't misunderstand; a lot of us have time spare that we could use to do things 'better' for us. I know. But I just believe now that getting rid of things, like the time you spend on your phone, is going to be more helpful in the long run than trying to force yourself into some gruelling, achievement-centric regime that collapses from within after two months of struggle and self-flagellation.

The other realisation I have had is just how much happier I am spending more time being alive, really alive, and less time in front of a screen. For a language like German or Gaelic that's much easier, because you can study with books, but with Chinese you always have to study to some extent with audios, flashcards, computers. Especially if - like me - you can read novels without a dictionary, but cannot handwrite even your Chinese name. So where next?

I don't have any answers. I'm not sure how to pair the two things together, to be honest, because almost all of my language learning has traditionally made use of technology. It's all been goal-orientated, systems-orientated, and despite the fact that I've failed at using these systems every day for years, despite the fact that Anki has NEVER worked for me, despite the fact that I have spent hundreds if not thousands of pounds on courses here, there, a wealth of overwhelm and five thousand words saved on Pleco, did I read that right? Five thousand. No wonder I'm stressed.

Regardless of happiness, it's much easier to achieve a state of deep focus and work when you're not online. After my period of information burnout, I feel actual physical pain from the weight of choices online. It's exhausting. I'm watching a Chinese show, but I want to go on tumblr. I'm on tumblr, but I feel guilty for not watching the Chinese show. I'm constantly torn between doing this and that, never fully committing to anything, seeing a post by Lindie Botes and thinking, damn, she's good. I should be better. But I don't want to compare myself to her. Do you know what? She is good. I admire her immensely. But I don't want to judge my self-worth by some imagined scale of productivity anymore - and, the more time passes, the more I'm not sure what 'productivity' in the context of language learning even means.

Try slow, focused, deep learning. You might just find it works.

There's something refreshing, almost counter-cultural, anti-capitalist, anti-consumerist, anti-rat-race, about this thought. Slow learning. I think there's an answer here, somewhere. It's a problem I've been dancing around for a while; and do you remember how you learnt your first foreign language? For me, it was on the floor, absolutely absorbed in German comic books, flicking through the dictionary furiously and scribbling things down in a notebook. I only had one book, and one dictionary, and one grammar book. I want to go back to that sort of simplicity. There was joy in that.

One again: I don't have any answers. I don't know exactly what direction this blog is going to go in, as I wrestle with these sorts of meta-problems. I'd love to hear your thoughts. And for now, if there's one thing I'd like you to take away from this long and frankly absurdly rambling post (thank you for bearing with me!) it's an alternative answer for the question I get so often, about what you can do to learn the language when you're tired, because:

Yes, you could watch reality TV shows in Chinese, or you could give yourself permission to be human. You could rest.

Thanks guys. Meichenxi out <3

[mooestriovermind]

Hypnosis - Everything can work

It's the combination of the desire to be hypnotized and the understanding that you can be hypnotized that combines together to make someone susceptible to trance. If you know how easy it is to go under, but you don't want to, you won't. Vice versa, if you want really bad to drop, but feel that it's impossible to do so, you won't fall.

Some people are in the second boat- quite a few, actually. If you want to be hypnotized, but think that your mentality or a certain mental illness prevents you from being hypnotized, you misunderstand. Everyone can experience trance. Many frequently have and didn't attribute the state they were in as hypnosis. It doesn't even require the ability to picture something in your head, or the ability to focus. Hypnosis can be brief, it can be long, but it is accessible by everyone. You need only notice that you're being hypnotized, and recognize that it can happen, in order for it to happen.

Take for example, right now. You've been reading down this informative post, your curiosity piqued by the knowledge I have to offer. And thusly, you have locked your attention on my words, here. Eager to learn, happy to recognize the hypnotic nature of a good monologue. Even if you don't picture a comfortable place like your back porch on a cool day or a beanbag when it's raining outside, you can still find it possible to recognize how my words affect you.

Even if they affect you minimally, it's possible that you still notice something as small as a change in your breathing. You see, small changes, however noticeable, tend to occur when you take note of the fact that someone is trying to hypnotize you. You can find it easy or difficult to follow what I'm saying, but ultimately you will be able to recognize that I am indeed trying to hypnotize you in this moment.

For some, the mere mention that someone may be actively hypnotizing them could lead to the familiar fuzzy feelings of trance to overtake them. Maybe you can already feel the sensations you recognize as trance. Maybe you don't know what hypnosis feels like! Maybe you've never been hypnotized (or you feel like you haven't) and you're just curious enough to keep reading. Either way, you are reading, and I am hypnotizing you, which means you are feeling at least somewhat different.

Considering that many experience trance in different ways from others, it's not entirely possible to say exactly how my words are making you feel. It could be any number of sensations or ideas. As long as you're capable of receiving sensory input or holding onto imaginative thoughts in some capacity, you are likely feeling open or even following along so closely that the world around you is no longer important.

Because you've read this far, I can imagine that I've successfully managed to at least entertain you. If you're feeling hypnotized, that's great! Keep feeling those sensations and keep allowing your behavior to adjust according to my words. If not, that's fine too! I've entertained you enough to provide you with some useful information that may assist you in any number of hypnotic endeavors.

Of course, all trances must end, and so must every Tumblr post. Finite and measurable, this little script and informative text must now draw to a close. You'll be able to awaken from any trance you may be in- as everyone is fully in control of their own hypnosis experience. Don't let anyone trick you into thinking that you can't resist, or that you absolutely must stay entranced. This is a sign that you're either doing a discussed CNC scene, which is fine, or you're being approached by an abusive dominant, which is less fine. (Very important distinction!)

Either way, thank you for reading my post! I hope it provided at least a modicum of entertainment.

Farewell, and don't forget to stay hydrated!

[honeybeefae]

Behind the Screen (Professor Gale x Female OC)

Summary / College was expensive, living was expensive, and Tessa’s parents had left her ill-prepared for the reality. Part-time jobs were difficult for her to keep with her school schedule, her major was crushing her mentally and spiritually, and with no other place to turn, she found herself profiting from less-than-professional means. However, it paid the bills and she never showed her face so it was foolproof. Never had she encountered anyone who knew what she did after dark…until she met the new Evocation professor. 

This idea floated into my head and will not come out. I would love to turn it into a multi-part series if anyone is interested! I know it isn't my usual ACOTAR work but I wanted to explore this new obsession! This is a kind of “modern” BG3 universe where magic, the absolute almost takeover, etc., are still the same but in a more modern setting! Obviously this will have smut so you have been warned but I will include content warnings at the beginning just in case! I hope you all enjoy! This chapter is a little short but I wanted it to be sort of an introduction to the story! <3

WARNINGS: 18 +, Cam Girl Activities, Paying to watch, Mutual Masturbation

AO3 Link

Chapter One: Lights, Camera, Action!

The music is slow and low in Tessa’s room, the bass thrumming throughout her body as she slowly sways to it. She smirks tauntingly as her fingers dance over the most sensitive parts of her body, covered by flimsy lace that one of her loyal viewers had sent her a week ago. It was a rich purple, matching the intricate masquerade mask that adorned her face and kept her most tempting feature unattainable. 

“Gods,” She moans huskily, sitting in her leather office chair to face the camera before slowly spreading her legs. “This feels so heavenly against my skin, Gale. You positively spoil me….”

Her computer is the only harsh light in her room as the rest of it is filled with soft fairy lights. She watches the screen as he types, knowing it would be a long lengthy response. He had been one of her first customers during the whole endeavor and after a few months, Tessa knew all of his quirks. Well, at least the sexual ones. 

Tonight is another private showing for him. It was like clockwork, Sundays at 8 PM and Fridays at 10 PM. They would last at least an hour, sometimes an hour and a half, and would consist of her teasing him until she turned her taunts to her body. He had sent her so many pieces of lingerie and toys in the few months she had started that it was a little startling. Sometimes he wanted her to take the lead, doing what she liked, while other times it was a specific script for her to follow. 

Either way, she knew he would pay a generous amount of money for these private shows and even more on tips if she did a free live show. A small part of her always wondered what he was like, what he looked like, but she knew entertaining that would only lead to pain. He could be married and hiding this obsession or single and desperate. None were good options for her. 

But she was more than happy to entertain his fantasies for however long he would pay her. 

“You know I am to please, my darling. I knew the purple would look absolutely radiant with your skin. It is all I can do now not to finish too quickly for you, the vision you are. Perhaps we should move on to the main event, yes? I am painfully aching to see all of you again.”

A blush comes over her cheeks at his words, both poetic and yet so vulgar. From the way he typed, she figured he had to have some kind of proper background and be older. No man she had ever met that was her age talked like him. 

“Of course, my love.” She purrs, reaching over to her drawer to fish out a toy. Before the stream, she had debated which one to use as his taste seemed to change with the wind. However, there was one she could always trust would please him. 

It’s a rabbit toy, sleek black with a long and thick vibrator and an additional clit stimulator that sucks and pulses in time with the rest of it. She always has the best orgasms with it and had actually been using it when Gale first found her stream. Ever since it was one of his favorites. 

“A classic, dear. Show me how your pretty cunt can drench it…and keep the lingerie on.”

“Yes, sir…” She almost whimpers as she pushes aside the already soaked material of her panties, biting down on her bottom lip as the toy comes to life in her hands. It was like a Pavlov effect on her pussy as she feels herself clench around nothing, eager to fuck herself for him.

The toy slides with little resistance inside of her as the clit stimulator begins to work its magic immediately, her back arching as she moans. She can feel the urge to close her eyes and blindly find her pleasure rising but she forces them open, eager to see what her client has to say. 

After a few seconds, he begins to type and she can only imagine what causes the delay, her mind flickering to images of a faceless man stroking his cock to her body. 

“So needy, so wet.”

“I can hear that wet cunt over your music, naughty girl. Do I make you this wet?”

“Fuck yourself for me. Call out my name, let everyone around you hear you cry for me.”

“Fuck, Gale!” She whines as she picks up the speed of her thrusts, the movement causing her clit to rub against the nub perfectly. “It’s…it’s so deep and it feels so fucking good…”

Her breasts sway to the rhythm she has become a slave to, almost popping out of the lingerie as the chair underneath her squeaks from her shifting weight. She can feel her mask begin to itch on her face as she starts to sweat, itching to remove it just so it doesn’t distract her. 

Instead, she spreads her legs wider and throws her head back in bliss for him. 

“Oooooh shit, oh fuck me,” She gasps as she hears the computer ping rapidly. “Gale, gods, Gale, fuck me, fuck me!”

The dual stimulation is causing her vision to turn spotty as she hits her Gspot, her entire back coming off the chair as she goes faster and faster. She thankfully has enough sense to raise her head to view his chat, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears.

“That’s it, darling, such a good girl. Look at you squirm for me. Look at you degrade yourself for me.”

“I can tell you are close. I can see your thighs trembling with the effort to keep them spread, to keep that slutty pussy open for me.”

“Gods above, I wish you could see how much I am leaking for you. It is a mess that I would love to cover you in. A devilish, sinful masterpiece.”

“I won’t last much longer. I need you to cum. Now.”

His last message had only been sent a few seconds ago and she took it in stride, changing her position so that she was practically kneeling and fucking herself roughly. Tessa could feel the drool leaking out of her mouth as her whole lower half seemed to throb in need, the tingles starting to spread up her body as she felt her orgasm quickly approaching. 

“I’m gonna cum, oh gods, I’m gonna-” She couldn’t even finish the sentence as she did one final, harsh thrust into her cunt. It sends her over the edge, her hips mindlessly grinding down further into the vibrations as she clenches over and over on the toy. It felt like too much and not enough, her body craving something more. Something real. 

Gale’s name is the only thing she can chant as she rides out her high, one of her hands going up to squeeze and pinch at her breast to extend the pleasure. After a few moments, she starts to come down, switching off the toy with clumsy fingers and letting it slide out of her.

“Show me.”

She knew what he wanted. It was the same every time she finished. Tessa gives the camera a lazy grin as she reaches for the toy and holds it up, showing the shiny and creamy texture before she does the same to her pussy. 

“The things I’d do to taste you, sweet girl. A tempest of my very own. Thank you for the show.”

His words make her look away for a moment in shyness as if she hadn’t just given him a very risque show. She turns back to the camera and blows him a kiss, wishing him a goodnight before she ends the stream and shuts her laptop. 

“Wow…” Tessa murmurs to herself, taking a deep breath as she stands up on shaky legs. She reaches for her phone and turns the music to something more alternative, more her speed, as well as turning the lights back to their lighter color. 

And so begins her nightly ritual after becoming her alter ego, Tilly Tryst. The mask comes off and is safely tucked away along with the rest of her clothes and toys. She fixes her bed and lights her candles, heading to the bathroom to take off her makeup and anything else she wears for her job. It’s like taking off a costume for her, or maybe an actor coming off stage. 

The bath she draws is usually her favorite part as she bathes herself in lighter scents. If she cared to analyze, it would be abundantly clear that it was like she washing away her sins or her actions. However, that would mean moralizing her job and that was a road she did not want to go down right now. 

Her phone pings as her muscles relax under the water, reaching out to see who could be texting her so late. The notification wasn’t a text though but a deposit notification. Gale had left her another very generous tip on top of his private stream payment. 

Tessa wishes she had someone to talk about this with, to see if this was healthy or if she should cut ties with him. This entire cam-girl job wasn’t even something she wanted to be doing. It was forced on her…subject herself to this or drop out of college. She knew others would have done the same in her position. 

Blackstaff Academy is the best wizarding school on the Sword Coast. Plenty of wizards of considerable acclaim had gone here and she was determined to be one of them. Her parents didn’t support her in her endeavors though they had no problem when her brothers had gone here. It was a sexist ideology, a kink in their plans to marry her off to a family friend to strengthen their role in society, and they hated her for it.

Other wizards at the school had a support system, a childhood of magical nurturing that inspired them to become even greater, and money or assistance to pay. Tessa had a childhood of sneaking magical tomes from her father and brothers, a support system of only her grandfather, and no money to her tattered name.

This is her last resort and thankfully, it was supplying more than she needed. It not only paid for her books, supplies, and other needs, but also her food and her rent. She finally felt like she was on the winning coin of fate. The last thing she needed was her only source of income to stop, even if it might be a dangerous game. 

And while Tessa would never admit this to herself, let alone a friend, she got a small thrill from her work. To be anonymous and yet so fully exposed is a different kind of adrenaline, not to mention the attention. Especially from her favorite clients. It fills a void that she desperately tries to hide.

She felt needed, desired, and for someone who went most of her life feeling the opposite it was like a balm for her soul…even if the methods were a little unorthodox. 

The clock in her room chimes, signaling the late hour, and she sighs before hauling herself out of the bath. Her last “first” semester started tomorrow and by the looks of her schedule as well as gossip in the hallways, it was not going to be an easy one. 

Tessa wraps herself in a fuzzy towel and softly pads back into her bedroom, fishing out comfortable pajamas as she finishes her nightly routine. Doors locked, windows shut, curtains drawn, and most importantly her laptop was shut. The bed calls her name as she finally settles in and down for the night, closing her eyes and drifting off into a dreamless slumber. 

[wackyscreamswithraisin]

Indefinite Hiatus and Clearing the air BIG TW ON //PERSONAL

Before I say anything this is the fanfic summary: It’s/ it was revolving around Raisin and Malcom (and Hamilton) from the Smart Talk With Raisin short, somehow stealing a meta cartoon remote from the, inaccessible to them; Cartoon Network ‘toonworld’ (like when you see the characters crossover in CN bumpers). They’d watch Courage the Cowardly Dog on their tv in their room like a comfort, but with the remote they start meddling with the character’s awareness of meta for entertainment - and when Barbara accidentally fuses with a glitched artefact, she is unable to be reverted to normal and she breaks the constructs of her own minor characterdom to try and track them down. The fic idea has changed a lot over the years but that’s what it (currently) has changed to. It’s rather Pibby adjacent and would focus on a lot of what’s changed about cartoons between every half decade - yeah it’s very complicated and over the top lol.

I know y’all are sick of me making these long ass walls of texts instead of proper content and I’m really sorry I keep pulling this 💀. I was going to make a nicer pinned posts] of explanation but since this blog is in a confusing place at the moment I just decided to do it quick instead so I don’t put it off.

For those who don’t want to read the full thing: TLDR,

1. I have personal attachment to Fred that has probably affected my judgement

2. My thoughts on Fred as schizophrenic rep is certainly not universal and the partial embarrassment about writing content revolving around him continues to catch up with me

3. The related problems below are reason why I have been so adverse to seeing Fred as being a r-pist m—-ster or SA’er

And 4. I’m starting to accept that it’s not that deep if my fanfic never gets told. Even if it would make me happy, it’s not the end of my work or me if I don’t. Nevertheless I hope you all understand and I’m sorry for any disappointment.

On the personal issue: First, bc some might not know, I am mentally ill and have had a vague diagnosis of psychosis for years that was never fully decided and that I understand now and abridge as ‘schizopsec’, but follows all the traits of OSDD 1B, enough that I tend to use both terms. ‘Fred’ is one of my alters - he’s my main ISH (internal self helper), caretaker, and fictive (fictional introject), and he has been for around 10 years. This is not a joke. This is as cringe as it sounds, even worse in real life when he fronts of course, and is embarrassing for me to admit even when I attach this post to my main blog where I share schizospec upliftment posts. It’s a complicated and excruciating subject matter for many many reasons, and it’s important that I clarify this, even though it’s uncomfortable for me, since this naturally affects my ability of separating Fred the alter from Freaky Fred in my writing and art. This is part of why I have to keep scrutinising my writing drafts. I believe I can keep them separate, but this is part of the reason why I guess my attachment for him and making content to do with him is there at all.

My thoughts on Freaky Fred in episode : As a schizospec, putting the alter aside, schizophrenic representation means the world and the moon and the stars to me, even when it’s bad. I can’t tell if this is an agreeable opinion amongst other schizospec/ psychotic people, but even damaging and dangerous rep involving homicidality like the axe crazy maniacs have something of catharsis in their rises and falls that I can appreciate, depending. Sexually depraved and violent rep however, crosses a line; obviously schizo killers in fiction are heavily drenched in misinformed stigma and is mostly bullshit and can be dangerous- we are dramatically far more likely to hurt ourselves or be hurt - but I think most people would agree that sexual violence is a different evil altogether, and I cannot stand to see the marginalised mentally ill conflated with such horrendous shit.

There’s the problem. I think Fred is a schizophrenic; other than him getting the equivalent to straightjacketed at the end and taken to presumably some asylum or how he narrates/ talks/rhymes in his own head and otherwise barely talks just disjointedly - he’s got that classic 90s-00s cartoon crazy grin and is instilling fear in the viewer through said unbalancedness,his whole deal is very ‘of its time’ on displaying scary madness. And, all that being said, even though he’s clearly not good rep by any stretch of the imagination, he doesn’t harm anyone - he’s even ‘nice’ - or at least doesn’t seem to be blatantly malicious. The bar is on the floor, but that’s already better than idk William Afton or something.

Fred as a predator: The point of view of Fred as a metaphorical molester is pretty obvious and is a popular opinion, and it would be dishonest to say I don’t completely see it, especially with how he says naughty - the implication steers more into the sexual predator area. Hair shaving isn’t violent as much as taking something away - subtracting, and this can be interpreted in a murderous or SA fashion, but the murderous interpretation I stick with, one akin to Sweeney Todd, is a very flattering view of it and I know it. It’s easy to see how it comes off fetishistic which favours an SA view and is naturally the reason why a lot of people see it as rapey.

The episode as a metaphor for SA or CSA enabled in a household that turns the other way is popular, and at first I didn’t like this theory because it felt like a dark theory made almost to tarnish child content with a deeper or darker meaning, which I had seen a lot elsewhere. But this wasn’t really honest; ‘The Mask’ works well as an episode with no subtext but is respected moreso as an episode clearly about domestic abuse and misandry born from trauma. ‘Freaky Fred’ can also be this.

I think the well and honest truth for me is, even when I do everything I can to touch grass, and remove my personal connection to the character/ the idea of him through the alter, away from the conversation; I really don’t want Fred to be a schizophrenic and a sexual predator character at the same time, and I cannot remove my view of him as the first one, but I have to admit that, in some ways, both was intended for him and this episode in some variation. It’s pretty upsetting to think about; I know a majority audience isn’t going to be that invested in the representation of mad people, especially not in cartoon antagonists, but it matters a lot to me. Obviously it would still be bad if he wasn’t a crazy character and it would still be scary and awful if he acted more ‘normal’, but that craziness is there and the combination feels particularly wretched because, once again, schizophrenics are far more likely to be victimised.

What I’m trying to say with all this; Fred is a mad character who despite being the most offputting and scary character I’ve ever seen in my life, managed to become irremovable from my psyche for almost my whole life, for better and for worse, and in some small way, seeing him as so scary and uncomfortable, but equally ‘good-willed’ and harmless by technicality in that episode, made me feel a little less alone. But people who have been yucked out by this blog and this fixation as I said before are fully in their right, and I am taking a step back to consider if I want to continue with making stuff to do with Fred or not.

The fanfic?: I still think about the story a lot but as you can probably tell I’ve made it very convoluted by involving a meta narrative, and as I’m just about to head into university by the time I’m writing this, it’s difficult to tell what will come of this. I will let you all know, but it’s in a continuous grey area and I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up. I’m sorry.

Will I still post art?: Maybe haha, I never know how to feel when I post it. Sometimes I worry it gives off the impression that I ship post-shaving incident Barbred (I don’t) or that I endorse Fred’s ‘freakiness’ at all. And sometimes I think it just looks bad, as in not a good recreation of the ctcd art style, or too sad - like idk why I think the audience is just going to understand these alarmingly emotional pieces when I’ve been pretty scarce on context, I apologise for everyone’s who’s gotten tonal whiplash scrolling. Fred art may come up elsewhere on my other blog which I will reblog here if I think it’s appropriate.

If you read all the way thank you so much💚, I hope you get what I’m saying, and if you don’t I understand. Consider following my main zebedeezing if you want somewhere I post more often though non ctcd related.

[elsweetheart]

Hey homie is love ur writing but I don’t want to accidentally request some thing not allowed so do you have any rules?? 🫶🏼 

hey! oops i totally forgot to write a rules list thing so here it is, i’ll have it linked on my pinned too so it’s easily accessible from now on. i may add to it over time 💕

kitties rules 🎀

general rules

no hate, bigotry, or bashing what / how i write. this should go without saying.

do not spam my ask box if i haven’t answered your request. i’m either getting round to it, i don’t have inspiration for it, or i don’t like it. additionally, if i do not like your request i will just delete it. nothing against you, but i do not have to feel pressured on my own blog.

eating disorder accounts DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME. i have to click most profiles to check if there’s an age or some kind of idea of age on your page and i find that content triggering and shouldn’t have to see it. do not follow, do not like, do not reblog.

i am happy to talk to anyone and give out advice, however please do not bring me any super heavy / trauma related rants. tumblr writers are not therapists. i sympathise with you but i must set a boundary and i cannot help you.

only claim an emoji anon if you’re actually going to send me asks! the amount of times someone asks to claim an emoji for their anons but then never message me again has just gotten too much sadly. additionally, please don’t just send ‘can i claim *insert emoji* anon?’ you can claim it if you say something else or converse with me in the ask for the reasons above !!

do not slander pillow princesses / stone tops.

no abby bashing on my page. block my abby tag, or leave. i really don’t care! just don’t bring it here.

no drama, gossiping about other blogs, or comparing my writing to another writers. i’m not that kinda blog and i’m not entertaining rudeness. unless of course, you are making me aware of another writer stealing / being overtly problematic so that i can quietly unfollow etc.

do not bash my interpretations of the characters i write for. whilst you might not agree, as i could make tweaks to what is canonically true about them (e.g: the version of ellie i write for is 5’7) these are my personal interpretations and headcanons which are not up for argument.

do not repost my work, do not translate my work, and please do not copy my writing and just tweak it so it’s for another character. especially if it’s just another tlou character because more times than not i will see it and i find it kind of disrespectful.

if you don’t have your age in your bio, i’m not writing your request or even replying to you. simple as that, i’ve asked you to respect my rules so if you don’t i’m not writing for you!

please be kind to me! i love how enthusiastic you all are but please remember to be polite as i am a person and not a writing machine. if you’d like to request something in my ask box, please do not say something like “i need more ____ now!!” as i will probably just delete it unfortunately!

additionally to this, if i say i’m not writing a part 2 to a fic, most of the time i’m going to stick by that. i appreciate you enjoyed the first one a lot, and i don’t wanna sound mean — but begging me to write a part 2 when i already said no is just gonna irritate me. sorry!

writing rules (tw)

i will not write about:

men, this is a safe space for wlw / nblw

sexual assault / r*pe. again, this is a safe space.

additional to this i will not write cnc. not bashing anyone who’s into it, but i am uncomfortable with it.

self harm / suicide

i will not write for reader with a mental illness / disability that i do not have. i have adhd, so i am happy to write for adhd reader but that is all. i want everyone to feel included and validated of course but i am scared of including stereotypes / misinformation and doing more harm than good! also i just don’t know how to write it lol! i don’t really want to write for body issues / insecurities for the most part either.

ddlg / age play. i am comfortable to write daddy/mommy but not as an entire lifestyle.

i don’t write a whole lot of angst with no resolution / happy ending. absolutely no hate to people who write that, i just get sad easily and don’t want to put myself through that lol!

i don’t write dom!reader im sorry! there are lots of fantastic, talented blogs out there that do but as i am a submissive pillow princess i wouldn’t even know where to begin and writing it just wouldn’t be pleasurable for me!

i will add to this list, but basically if i am not comfortable writing something i just will not!

let’s all just have safe respectful fun ! 💕

[autimind]

Myths about Autism #4 - Looking autistic

(with a side order of 'I don't hate people with autism.')

A dearly beloved aunt, who regrettably passed several years ago, flat-out refused to believe that I am autistic. Even after a full explanation of my struggles and diagnostic trajectory through the local mental healthcare system. I did not come across as autistic. She wasn't the only one.

Well, I say fair enough.

[long read. I won't discuss the actual myth. We are clear on that it is bunk. However, what should we now do?]

Let's talk about what autism looks like. Allistic people seem to have these amazing insights into what's going on in other people's minds basically on full-auto or at least they claim as much but for all I can discern they seem to judge inner workings of the mind by what the visible body does. They need our outward appearance in order to function.

What is autism? We know, dear reader, that autism is high, wide and broad. That it is called a spectrum does not mean that it behaves like the number line, not even like the complex plane. It is an insanely varied, multivariate affair. "If you have met one autistic, you have met one autistic," as the platitude has it. Yet autism is real. Although it does not exist as a thing, it is a valid label for a more or less well-defined manner of neurodivergent development. All of the divergence inside the brain is invisible, though. Can we fault the allistic people all around us for only looking at the conduct and mannerisms they do notice?

Society moreover has been and is ill-served by tropes mainly in entertainment but also in serious media. For a long time, autism basically equated Rain Man, from the eponymous movie starring Dustin Hoffman. I still find it ironic that the person who inspired the movie, the late Kim Peek, did not have autism at all but rather FG Syndrome. More recent is the example of Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory, who according to many people has Asperger's. It is interesting that almost no one judges his friend Amy Farrah Fowler in the same way as she shares many of his characteristics.

Again I ask can we fault allistic people their bafflement when we come out, so to say, as autistic? By far most of us aren't Sheldon Coopers and certainly a vanishingly small minority of us are even like Rain Man.

I tend to empty a box of matches onto the desk when speaking as an expert by experience to professionals. I give them three seconds to tell me exactly how many matches are visible and of course they always fail. Given proper experience, an estimation might of course be given but I tell them the exact answer. After everyone has had the time to be amazed at my 'autistic feat', I explain that I personally counted the matches before putting them into the box that very morning.

This is my way of upending their own cultural ideas on autism. Returning to my point, I really don't think we can blame allistics all that much. Cultural inertia on top of normal human cognitive laziness makes it hard to take on new and contra-intuitive notions.

Quite frustratingly, rather a lot of allistic people, once you have told them, still exclude us while saying they don't dislike autistics/autism. A good example would be.. well, almost everyone I come across. Basically everyone commiserated with me when I became open about my diagnosis and vowed to help and understand. They can't but they aren't aware of that particular disability. It is not their fault.

The point here is that they do keep responding negatively to an impressive array of ingrained traits. Stimming in the form of feet tapping of knee bouncing (my own go-to stim), data dumping about my SPINs, correcting vague or incorrect language, taking vocal utterances literally and so on and so forth. Really now, I am not much bothered about specific word choice but it is not okay to just hold on to your preconceived notions when an actual human explains their own mental state or makes a half-way reasonable request.

Those preconceived cultural notions do exist and they do cause harm. All of this creates much frustration and anger among autistics. This is easily visible during even a cursory inspection of #actually autistic and like tags. There is so much pain! People are crying out in sheer endless reblogs, venting and sometimes even ranting about the unfair position we have in society, especially if we are also non-white, female or belong to yet one more disadvantaged or non-privileged group. The amount of anger, sometimes even rage, on this forum is simply staggering. I have run afoul of it myself, mostly for responding to some post without thinking and naively assuming I was really helping. I have hurt other people's feelings.

It would be fairly easy for me to now wax eloquent about how I was misunderstood, that from my own blog it was crystal clear that.. and a dozen other excuses. I simply say this: I am sorry. However, we still have to do something. I strongly feel that venting to eachother is all well and good but if that is all we do, things will not get better. In that case, venting becomes just a way of blowing off steam before going right back to that very same society that can be so hurtful and indifferent.

It would be a grand thing indeed if I had all the answers at this point and I don't. I do have one answer. What I propose will sound cruel to some. I will put yet another responsibility in the autistic camp. Yet more adapting to do when allistics just breeze through their lives. (They don't, but never mind that. I understand the feeling.) Still, on sober reflection we will have to admit that this responsibility is already solidly on our side for the very simple reason that no one will do it for us. We may just not have been aware of it.

I am talking about actively regulating our own emotions in general and making space for negative feelings in particular. If we manage to pull that off, we can just be with frustration or sadness for a while and allow it to process itself. I know first-hand how impossibly vague and wishy-washy new agey that sounds. I also know first-hand the awesome power of such a skill if you can see it from the inside.

At least we will have control. To some extent. We will be responding from strength, not from weakness. We will be secure in ourselves, not beaten this way and that by the breaking waves of the ocean of demands and impulses of this life. We will know deep in our being that we are always welcome in the present moment. We will understand viscerally that emotions are not self, thoughts are not self. They may influence us but they are not us.

Will that make us feel better? Maybe. After a while. Unpleasant emotions and thoughts will not suddenly vanish. But it will help. For details, see my series on Reconnecting to our authentic selves.

[mindrole]

Question about reposting to Twitter (sorry if it's silly): by reposting you just mean stuff you post here, right? You're not going to change course and only post there and not here?

I wish I could give advice otherwise, but I don't use Twitter (which is why I'm asking this in the first place) also hope you recovered well from being sick!

i've been good and healthy! thanks for the well wishes!

when it comes to this i prefer posting on tumblr massively, so don't worry about me moving and setting up there as a main platform or whatever! its comfy here! i like the base of lurkers i've cultivated.

tbh it is mostly a "i wanna post art on twitter because the fanbase is largely over there" kind of ego thing. at first, i assumed i would be posting in parallel, but.. honestly tweeting should be a spur of the moment thing for me, and i have no sense for maintaining side accounts and accounts for specific subjects in particular (this blog in and of itself is a miracle). also i feel watched if i'm out of my element. i don't think it's possible for me to suddenly switch my main hub of cell series posting unless i somehow gained a group of people to bounce off of on a daily basis. i can't use twitter just to post mindlessly like i do here, i like to be chatty instead. at least on tumblr i entertain myself. idk what the difference is. i can use my own personal account just fine weirdly enough, but side accounts never tend to work out and i forget they exist quickly.

basically all i've been wondering from anyone who may know or may be interested in seeing it... the methodology of crossposting my art to twitter when its been a while.. tbh all i draw these days are doodles and stuff that's only funny to me so the mental block is a little strong. it's like "eh... it's not worth the effort.."

initially i intended on mirroring my longer text posts too, like on fusetter or something, but eh... ehhh.... i'll just keep it on tumblr... it's the same thing isn't it. so i'm only concerned with my art right now

also i feel kinda dumb tagging most of the art whenever i post it. but i also don't have much reach on twitter yet, so posting art without tagging it and having people follow until i build something up feels pointless. but also back to the point feeling dumb, i don't mind being seen at all, but i don't want anyone to scroll and go "what's this guy doing here" and such... idk why but it's probably mental illness. i just don't like to stand out in a way that makes me look like i'm trying too hard. but idk how to appear effortless (<-see i overthink too much, there's probably nothing of the sort going on)

but i want to at least semi-cultivate a habit of crossposting stuff even if it's not all of it!! idk if that makes sense.

ironically i think there is very little audience on tumblr compared to twitter for the corner/niche i've accidentally occupied (i.e. being obsessed with the interlude+com+characters that barely exist for some reason especially since i don't post about the main game that much anymore). also just in general i feel like my way of thinking is too strange. i can't fathom that people keep coming back to check over here. thank yew🥺🩷 (<-he was shot out back for this)

every day i am perplexed why this blog has people keeping watch on it, i feel very humbled and happy about it but i also scratch my head a little bit. it's very fun even if confusing. i like the level of interaction i have. so i'm not gonna switch over...!!! don't worry!!!

at the very least i have every intention continuing to archive my art in the poipiku attached to the twitter account... the twitter account itself however, is at a standstill, i have no idea what to do with it, which is why i'm doing the last ditch "phone-a-follower" effort

[bondsmagii]

If you feel comfortable sharing, what do you mean when you say that psychiatrists don't think you can exist? You know your own experiences better than I do, but the idea of a psych telling a patient what their reality is, rather than observing reality to determine outcome, is killing the methodologist inside me

I have no interest in sharing because like. I just do not. but I can address the rest of what you're saying.

the whole basis of going to see a psych is the be told what your reality is, in one way or another. whether that's seeking out a diagnosis, unpacking bullshit to see what's "beneath" it all, trying to get to the bottom of memories/behaviours, or even just working out Why You're Like That, you're relying on somebody else to tell you what your reality is. some people find this works well for them, and that's great. I'm not denying that there aren't lots of people out there who have benefited greatly from psychiatry, and as a believer in medical autonomy, I'm of course always going to encourage those who feel like therapy might help them to try it out. however, we do need to remember that therapy is a medical procedure, and by undergoing it, people want to be told something about their reality that they either can't or won't see.

sometimes, this works out well. it makes sense. the patient and the therapist are in agreement. but the second that you disagree with your therapist... a lot of people find this is where things get nasty. there's an expectation that your therapist knows best, because they're trained in the field -- but no amount of schooling is ever going to be enough to tell someone their reality. if somebody is hands-down insisting that something is the case, you need to believe them. therapists, in my experience and in the experience of many people I've known, aren't too great at that. advocating for yourself, and disgreeing with an insight or a suggestion, quickly gets you labelled as an uncooperative patient -- and you would be surprised at how quickly you start getting treated like you're the problem, and you're not "committed" enough, or you're not "willing to put the work in".

and this is just things that therapists agree are real. what I have going on is something that therapists do not even consider possible, and after all, they're the experts, right! if I went to a therapist about this, I would be called delusional or psychotic at best, and a liar at worst. despite the fact that I am right here, existing -- and despite the existence of many like me -- the psychiatric community is just not ready for that discussion yet. they refuse to believe that it's possible, and instead of conducting research to prove or disprove this hypothesis, they simply refuse to acknowledge it or even entertain the idea at all.

the psychiatric community, as a whole, has no interest in observing reality. there is a huge confirmation bias in the field, and somewhere along the line they have stopped using science as a tool to find out more about their field, and started wielding it as a weapon to silence dissenters and ensure they're always correct and never challenged. while individual therapists can be helpful and decent, the field as a whole is incredibly toxic. any field of science that looks at a possibility and says "this isn't possible because I said so, and no I shall not research because I Know I Am Right", is not a field of science worth existing. according to these people, I don't exist, yet here I am. they would answer this by telling me I'm wrong, and trying to convince me I have a severe mental illness that I just don't realise I have. if anyone else did that under any other circumstances, we'd call that gaslighting.

[jeontaehui]

TAEHEE’S ISSUES AND SCANDALS

getting into the company (early 2017)

the idea of adding only one girl into a group full of boys caused a ruckus amongst the media.

not only did they doubt her during her debut, but they have also called her names and accused her of doing inappropriate things to get into the company.

not only did this affect the group’s first impression to the masses but taehee’s as well, taking a toll on her mental health.

fans who genuinely supported taehee seemed to notice how nervous and clammy she would get before performances, either doyoung and taeyong would be there to comfort her.

rumors became widespread and it forced the company to take legal actions against these matters.

they released a statement saying that taehee auditioned like most trainees would do. she got in because of her talent, her abilities, and her hard work and passion. it was the company’s idea to put taehee as the only female member of the group, with no ill reason behind it.

favoritism (late 2017)

with the earlier scandal, sm entertainment was quick to shut down the media and take action, causing some to assume that taehee was a favorite in the group as the label never acted this fast with their other idols.

it caused some to fuel the earlier issue — which backtracked later on since the company stated they would take legal action against those who accuse the label or any of their idols of these things.

but fans of the group claimed that they were still considered rookies, and it would make sense that the company would be quick to take care of these issues since they were monitoring them.

the favoritism issue was never brought up by the group nor the company as it died down as soon as it came up.

nctzens just hoped the young taehee would not be able to reach this side of the media, even if it was impossible for her not to.

dating (march 15, 2018)

a thread talking about the possibility of taehee and exo member, sehun to be dating blew up on twitter that day.

it was a compilation of possible couple items, reactions to each other’s performances, matching their ideal types, and videos where they were in the same frame together.

leading to some korean articles to publish this issue as their topic.

this was never addressed by the company but nctzens and exols worked together to take it down.

it was later revealed in the show, happy together ep. 562, that the two are very close friends (they guested alongside baekhyun, taeyong, and jaehyun). they treated each other like brother and sister.

they were good friends during their trainee days and cheer for each other during performances and such !!!!!

speaking up (late 2018)

taehee received a bit of backlash on talking about the ‘downsides’ of being the only girl in a boy group with heechul on a video by naver.

people said she should’ve been thankful and said nothing instead, but taehee wanted to speak up.

besides the possible dating scandals and the fact that it’s a no to go out alone with only one of the members, it costed the ‘perfectly’ good image she had in front of the media.

“given the chance to debut, of course i am grateful for it. i’m glad to see my hard work is pulling off and in a way, i am able to give back to those who have helped me come this far.”

“but with that, there’s a lot of criticism from others, like ‘oh she’s a girl. would she be able to be as powerful as the boys?’, ‘is this choreo too hard for you?’ things like that.”

“and when i do get compliments, it’s along the lines of ‘you’re so cool for a girl idol’, ‘i didn’t know you could do that’, or ‘you did better than expected.’”

“when they say this, i think to myself ‘are they saying this because i’m a girl? do they expect less of me because i am girl?’ but i know they mean well so i’d just thank them politely and smile.”

“it’s hard because in a world like this, boy groups are expected to be like... strong and powerful and girl groups are expected to be soft, cute, or sexy depending on the concept.”

“i want people to know that, no, it doesn’t have to be like that. girls can pull-off powerful dances too and that boys can dance and sing cutely as well. there shouldn’t be this solid line telling us what identifies a person as a boy or girl. people should be able to express themselves freely, let others take them as for who they want to be....”

“i want others to take me as who i am, to take my performances as it is ,,, because if the boys can do it, i can do it too.”

heechul nodded understandingly, a sad but proud smile played on his lips. “what do you want them to say to you then?,” he asked.

“things like ‘you’re so cool’ or ‘you’ve worked hard’, you know. without adding anything after.”

heechul then patted taehee’s knee and told her, “then taehee, you’ve worked hard. you’re doing a great job.”

[iamanartichoke]

I wrote a Thing. It’s extremely long. I’d prefer it not be reblogged; I wrote this for my own catharsis and would prefer it not be circulated, bc of Reasons. 

I changed my mind, okay to reblog. <3 

Under a cut for (extreme, did I mention?) length. 

So I got about 12 minutes of sleep last night, as you do, and around 3am or so I found myself - out of sheer curiosity - going down a meta hole of Ragnarok discourse, trying to figure out where this "satisfying redemption arc" for Loki happened. (I mean, there's a lot of things I would like to figure out, but I started there.) Because I could. 

Basically I was looking for meta that went into detail about how Loki was redeemed in a satisfactory way. The ‘satisfactory’  is an important word here bc there is a redemption arc in the film, in that Loki starts off the film as an antagonist (kinda) to Thor and he ends the film as an ally to Thor, standing at Thor's side. In that sense, yes, there's a redemption arc. I didn't find much (and I had no idea how much people just despise Ragnarok "antis" [I really dislike that word] but that's another topic [that I don't particularly want to get into, tbh]) but I did find some. I read what I could find, and I read it open-mindedly, and overall I came away feeling like, okay, there are some valid points being made here and I can kinda see where they're coming from.

But it was a bit (a lot) like -- flat. Idk. The best comparison I can think of is that it’s like if a literature class read, I don't know, The Yellow Wallpaper for an assignment, and some of the students came away from it feeling like it was a creepy story about a woman slowly driving herself insane, and the other students came away from it incensed at the oppression and infantilization of women in the late 19th century -

- and neither side is wrong, but the former is a very surface-level reading and the latter isn't (bc it stems from looking at why she drives herself insane, why she was prescribed 'rest' in the first place, the context of what women could and couldn't do back then, etc; basically, a bit more work has to go into it). 

[Note: I am not disparaging the quality of The Yellow Wallpaper. At all. It’s just the first relatively well-known story that popped into my head.]

In this sense, I can see the argument for Loki's redemption arc, but I don't think it's a very good argument. Not invalid, but not great.

I mean, for example, I think the most consistent argument I found variations of re: Loki's redemption is that Ragnarok shows Loki finally taking responsibility for his bad behaviour and misdeeds. This includes recognizing that his actions were fueled from a place of self-hatred and a desire to self-destruct in addition to bringing destruction on others. That he probably feels awkward and regretful of these things and doesn't know how to act around Thor, but he figures it out by the end, and decides that returning to Asgard is the best way to show that he's ready to make amends. His act of bringing the Statesman to Asgard is an apology. He allies himself with Thor and ends up in a better place, both narratively (united with Thor once again) and mentally (having taken responsibility and made amends for his past).

And setting aside that he had already made amends by sacrificing his life in TDW (and also setting aside that the argument is made that Loki redeems himself in IW by sacrificing himself to Thanos but if that's the case, wouldn't that imply that he hadn't achieved redemption in Ragnarok or else there would be no need to achieve it again in IW? Or, if you think he did achieve redemption in Ragnarok, then what the fuck did he give his life in IW for? What was his motivation there, and why did the narrative not make it clearer? I digress.) 

- setting aside those two factors, I think this is a very fair argument. Loki is fueled by self-hatred, and he does want to self-destruct, and he does want to inflict that pain on others as well (particularly Thor). No lies detected here. 

However, I also need to know where that self-hatred and desire for destruction (toward himself and others) comes from and for that, we need to go back to Thor 1.

Thor 1. 

Loki starts Thor 1 out as "a clenched fist with hair," to borrow a quote from the Haunting of Hill House (that I tucked away in my mental box of Lovely Things bc it says so much so very simply). He's very used to bottling everything up, pushing it down; he slinks around behind the scenes, pulling the strings to this plot or that. He's "always been one for mischief," but the narrative implies that the coronation incident is the first time Loki's done anything truly terrible. And it all immediately pretty much goes to shit, so Loki spends the rest of the movie frantically juggling all these moving pieces while trying to seem as if he's got it all under control, every step of the way. That's how I view his actions. 

But I always come back to that quote where Kenneth Branaugh tells Tom, of the scene in the vault, "This is where the thin steel rod that's been holding your mind together snaps." In other words this is where Loki discovering he's Jotun is just one thing too many. He can't take it. But though the rod snaps, his descent isn't a nosedive. It's a tumble. As the story progresses, the clenched fist starts to loosen, the muscles are flexed in unfamiliar ways (that feel kinda good, after being stiff for so long), and it culminates with the hand opening completely and shaking itself out. All of that repression, that self-hatred, that rage and jealousy just explodes so that, by the time the bifrost scene happens, Loki's already hit bottom. It's not just about proving his worthiness to Odin. He wants to hurt Thor, too; he, essentially, throws a tantrum. (That's right, I said tantrum.) 

(Note: The word 'tantrum’ has negative connotations bc we normally equate it with a toddler stamping their feet and screaming in the aisle when their parent won't buy them the toy they want. But in itself, the word tantrum isn't infantalizing. It's an "emotional outburst, an uncontrolled explosion of anger and frustration" [paraphrasing from dictionary.com]. That's exactly what happens here [and why Tom called Loki's actions a massive tantrum, but people took that to mean Tom agreed it was childish whereas I doubt Tom meant it that way]).

He's been pushed past his limit, and he does bad things. He does really shitty things. He hurts Thor, he hurts his family. I'm pretty sure he knows this all along so this isn't, like, some revelation further down the line that "hey, those things I did were probably kinda bad." He got the memo already. 

Ragnarok 

Fast forward to Ragnarok, and we're introduced to a version of Loki who's had 4ish years to sit with everything that's happened. To sit with it and not do much else. The rawness of it has faded, and now it seems as though it's just become a thing, like when you move through life aware of your childhood traumas and have more or less just accepted them (and you probably share a lot of really funny depression memes on Facebook, which is kinda the equivalent of Loki's play, but that's probably just me). 

Loki has, more or less, chilled out. He seems more bored than anything else; he's been masquerading as Odin for longer than he ever planned or intended to, so he's more or less ended up hanging out, letting Asgard mind its own business, and entertaining himself with silly plays. This is the version that starts out the movie as an antagonist to Thor - a version that is, arguably, in a much different place [and is a much milder threat] than the version who originally did those Bad Things. 

And of course Thor is still mad at him, and of course they're going to butt heads, because that's what they do (and Thor's grievances are genuine, I’ll add, bc it's not really his fault he assumed Loki faked his death, nor can he be blamed for being pissed about Odin).

One argument framed this version of Loki as being a person who is facing the awkwardness of coming out of a dark place, which is fair. If we're going to frame his actions in Thor 1 as a tantrum, then Ragnarok would be the part where the toddler has been taken home, possibly has had some lunch and a juice box, and is now watching cartoons. They're over the tantrum, and would probably feel pretty silly about it if they weren't, yknow, toddlers. They probably can't remember why they even wanted that toy so badly. If they're a little older and self-aware, they might even be embarrassed for having melted down.

Like the word tantrum, this feeling isn't a thing limited to toddlers. I know I've had a few epic meltdowns as a grown ass adult, and I know I always feel deeply embarrassed afterwards - like, want to crawl into a hole and die. I've said things I can't take back. Adolescents and teenagers throw tantrums, mentally ill people throw tantrums, adults throw tantrums (I mean, my god, look at all the videos of Karens having screaming meltdowns - screaming! - over having to wear masks in order to shop at stores). Humans throw tantrums. And usually, after the feelings have been let out and the tantrum has passed, humans feel pretty regretful and awkward and embarrassed about whatever they did and said in the midst of their meltdown. 

I get all of that and agree it's valid and that Loki probably feels it. By the time Ragnarok happens, Loki's had some time to reflect and think hmm, yeah, probably could've handled that one a lot better. The argument further goes that in order to navigate this awkward period, Loki must come to terms with what he's done, acknowledge that some things can't be unsaid or undone, and begin to make amends. Supposedly, some people feel that Loki becomes a better person because he does "own" everything he did wrong and, even though he feels like a jackass (paraphrasing), he sets that aside to become a become a better person by choosing to help Thor and Asgard at the end. 

Thus, the overall arc goes like this. Loki, Thor's jealous little brother, 

throws a tantrum of epic proportions bc Reasons 

continues to act badly and make things even worse (Avengers) 

has to face consequences for his actions (prison sentence) 

ends up with a stretch of time in which he's free to contemplate and chill out 

feels embarrassed and awkward about how he's behaved

sees an opportunity to make up for it and decides to take it 

helps Thor, saves the day, and ends the film a better person. 

Redemption achieved.

None of this is wrong. The film supports it. It's a fair interpretation. But it leaves. out. so. much.

To circle all the way back around Loki being "a clenched fist with hair," and his actions stemming from his self-hatred, you have to ask - how did he get that way? He didn't end up with all this self-hatred on accident. Generally, one isn't born despising themselves, it's a learned behavior. (I realize chemical imbalances are a thing, obviously, as I have Mental Shit myself, but for argument's sake I'm assuming that's not the case with Loki [at this point in time]). 

Where did Loki learn it? From his family, from his surroundings, from his culture. We see examples of these microaggressions in the first, like, twenty minutes of the movie - a guard openly laughs at Loki's magic after Thor makes a joke about it (the tone of the conversation implies that Thor "jokes" like this often) and though Loki does the snake thing, the guard faces no real consequences. Thor doesn't acknowledge that anything went amiss. Not much later, on their way to Jotunheim, Loki's barely gotten two words out to Heimdall before Thor cuts him off, steps in front of him, and takes charge. Loki doesn't look annoyed at this; he looks resigned. 

Then, for absolutely no reason at all, Volstagg decides to make a jab at Loki ("silver tongue turned to lead?") just because he can. The ease with which he makes this comment and the way that no one else blinks an eye at it implies that this isn't out of the norm. And Loki doesn't react, not really. In the deleted version, he delivers a particularly nasty comeback but he delivers it under his breath, without intending Volstagg to hear it. In the final version, he simply says nothing, though his expression can be read as hurt or stung. Either way, the audience sees an example of Loki being walked all over by Thor and his friends and bottling up his reactions instead of standing up for himself. 

Microaggressions matter. They are mentally and emotionally damaging. They hurt. The implication that this is not unusual treatment for Loki means that Loki's probably gone through this for most of his life. It's like the equivalent of being, I don't know, twenty two and you're the friend who has to walk behind the others when the sidewalk isn't wide enough, and it's been that way since the first day of kindergarten. At this point, you're used to it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less when the jabs come seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason other than to make you feel bad.

(I personally identify a lot with this bc I experienced passive bullying in social settings for years. I was the 'doesn't fit on the sidewalk' friend; I hung around with people who'd pretend to be my friend and would be more or less nice to my face, but would laugh at me and make fun of me behind my back for whatever reasons. And often there'd be the random jabs at me, things that would come out of nowhere to smack me in the face, followed by the fake laugh and “just kidding!" so that I couldn't even get upset without being made to feel like I was overreacting and couldn't take a joke. I'd deal with this socially, particularly in middle school when girls are their most vicious, and then I'd go home and, because I was the only girl with a lot of brothers and because boys are mean and because I am who I am, the dynamic was that my brothers would just endlessly roast me to my face and sometimes it was a "just kidding!" thing, where I was the only one not laughing. But that’s beside the point; my point is that microaggressions, passive bullying, and consistent invalidation are harmful and that shit stays with you into adulthood.) 

So, yes, Loki needs to be held responsible for his misdeeds, and it's valid to say that he recognizes those misdeeds and wants to make amends. I have never disagreed with that. But the problem with this interpretation is that it lets every single other character who contributed to Loki's self-hatred and mental breakdown (let's just call a spade a spade here, that's what it was; he was broken psychologically) get off scot-free.

First of all,

Odin is not held accountable for instilling in the princes a mentality of Asgard first, everyone is beneath us but Jotuns are benath us the most, they are literal monsters. He is not held accountable for pitting his sons against one another (even if it was unintentional, he still did it) with "you were both born to be kings but only one of you can rule" being the general tone of their upbringing. He's not held accountable for his favoritism toward Thor.

Frigga is not held accountable for deferring to Odin both in supporting the above things and in keeping the truth of Loki's origins a secret while doing nothing to discourage the "monsters" narrative. 

Thor is not held accountable for his own tendency of taking Loki for granted (he assumes Loki will come to Jotunheim, he oversteps Loki constantly, “know your place,” etc.. He grants his implicit permission for Loki to be treated as the sidewalk friend in their “group,” a group which is loyal to and takes their cues from Thor as Thor continues to do nothing in his brother's defense).

[Note: Wanting Thor to be held accountable for things he's done wrong isn't vilifying him. Acknowledging that Thor benefited from Odin's favoritism and his own place as Crown Prince doesn't negate Thor also being raised in an abusive environment. I don't think anyone's saying that or, if they have, it's not something I agree with.]

Furthermore, 

Odin is not held accountable for his cruelty in disowning Loki (”your birthright was to die” is never going to be forgotten, speaking of people saying things that can't be unsaid or taken back) and in sentencing Loki to a severe prison sentence (life! only bc Frigga wouldn't let him execute Loki) for crimes that are no worse than what Odin himself has committed (around which the entire plot of Ragnarok revolves! Colonialism (and subjugation) is wrong is, like, a major theme [that people rush to praise, even] here). 

Thor is also never held accountable for not trying harder to understand what made Loki snap (fair enough, he didn't have a ton of time after returning from Earth, but certainly he had lots of time to sit around reflecting while Loki was being tortured by Thanos for a year). He knows Loki is "not himself" and "beyond reason" and accepts it at face value; he questions it once and then lets it go. He's fine with assuming Loki's just lost his mind, and isn't that a shame. (I realize I'm simplifying Thor's emotions but my point is that Thor could've tried harder to figure out that Loki was being influenced and/or not acting completely autonomously.) 

Thor is also never held accountable for - if not facing consequences for his own slaughter of Jotuns - then at least addressing why Loki can't kill an entire race even though Thor tried to do that, like, two days ago. (Granted, it’s difficult to understand how Thor got from Point A ("let's finish them together, Father!") to Point B (this is wrong!), but that failing belongs to Thor 1 (which is not, by the way, a perfect movie).

The interpretation that Loki is fully redeemed because he took responsibility for his actions, returned to Asgard, and allied himself with Thor to save their people is all well and good - but, why is Loki the only one here who has to take responsibility for their actions? 

What about all the loose threads in his story? 

For example, how did he get from: 

Point A (believing himself a literal monster, having a complete mental breakdown, getting tortured and further traumatized after that, etc) 

to 

Point B (Hey, yknow what would be fun? I'm going to write and direct a play about how I heroically died to save Thor and Jane, and I'll go ahead and have Odin say he accepts me and has always loved me. I'm going to do these things because Odin never said this in real life and instead of acknowledging my sacrifice, Thor left my body in the dirt, so someone has to validate what I've done right and that someone might as well be me. And hey, while I'm at it, I'm going to control the narrative on revealing myself as Jotun to Asgard, instead of living in fear of it being found out, and I'm going to do it in a way that they have to sympathize with me and revere me in death, bc they never bothered to do so when I was alive. And Matt Damon should play me, also.) 

to 

Point C (Yeah, I guess I feel kinda awkward about that whole tantrum thing, also I should help Thor and support him being king.)

? 

The answers to these questions are handwaved and the audience takes that to mean they don't matter. Furthermore, framing Loki's redemption around an act of service (more or less) to Thor makes Loki's redemption about Thor. Does Loki make this decision for the sake of Thor and of Asgard, or does he make it for himself? It's not super clear to me, and I think arguments can be made for both. Which, again, is fine, but - whatever.

If we're going to collectively agree, as a fandom, that Loki is complex, that he's morally gray, that he's worthy of redemption and therefore arguably a good person who's done bad things, then why is it asking too much to have it acknowledged that Thor (also a good person who's done bad things) played a part in Loki's downfall and has shit to apologize for, too? Bc one can only assume the reason is that you're taking a very gray concept and making it black and white by saying Loki has to apologize and make amends because he is the villain, and Thor doesn't because he is the hero (and it's his movie). And it's lazy.

This is where the crux of the issue lands. There's more than one valid interpretation, yes. And no two people (or groups of people, or whatever) are going to consume and therefore interpret or analyze the source material in the same way. I think I saw a post recently about how studies have been done on this, in fact. But, there is a lot going on under the surface that tends to get overlooked when exploring Loki's redemption arc in Ragnarok, as far as I can see, and that’s why I don’t consider it satisfactory. 

[I did read similar arguments regarding other issues that are often debated ('debated'), like Loki's magic and/or being underpowered, whether or not Loki's betrayal of Thor was the natural outcome of the situation on Sakaar or not, whether Thor actually gets closure with Odin [if he does, how does he reconcile the father he's idolized with the imperialistic conqueror he's discovered? Why doesn't he hold Odin responsible for covering up Hela's existence and the threat of her return, especially as he knew he was nearing the end of his life? Is Thor's "I'm not as strong as you" meant to imply that he acknowledges those shortcomings of Odin's and that he's okay with them, or that he's just overlooking them, or is he not okay with them but didn't have the chance to get into it bc he was in the middle of battle? T'Challa confronted his father on his wrongdoings in Black Panther; could Thor not have had at least one line that was confrontational enough to establish where he stands as opposed to this gray middle? Can someone explain to me how any of this equates to Thor gaining closure? Please?) but obviously I'm not going to go into all of them (well, I tried not to), bc this mammoth post has gone on long enough (I may not even post this tbh)]

- but my overall point to this entire thing is that when I say I'm critical of Ragnarok bc it's flawed, that Loki's arc was neither complete nor satisfactory, that many things went unaddressed and, due to all of these things, I do not think Ragnarok is a very good movie nor a very cohesive movie, this is where I'm coming from. I have not seen anything to change my mind to the contrary. 

But I am not saying that anyone satisfied with it is wrong, or shouldn't have the interpretation that they do. I'm not vilifying Thor in order to lift Loki up, just acknowledging that Thor is arguably just as flawed as Loki without the stigma of being Designated Villain. I think a lot of these arguments get overlooked or dismissed, and that's fine, but it doesn't make the people who do engage with them hateful, or bitter, or trying to excuse Loki's crimes, or feeling like redemption means that Loki's crimes should be erased rather than reconciled. 

And sure, yes, perhaps we are expecting too much and exploring all of these themes (or wanting them explored) means that somehow we think it should be Loki's movie (we don't). Loki is a supporting character, but he's still a character. And the movie itself doesn't have to delve into all these things - no one's saying that. (At least, I'm not.) We just want acknowledgement, from the narrative, that this stuff was an Issue. 

This could have been accomplished with - 

Some dialogue closer to the novelization (and original script), like Thor and Loki both acknowledging the harm they've done one another and their kingdom due to their Feels.

 A single line of Thor confronting Odin, or even asking "Why?" 

A narrative acknowledgement that Odin did both Thor and Loki dirty (”I love you, my sons” isn't an apology, because it doesn't acknowledge either that there's been wrong-doing or express regret for having done the wrong in the first place). 

A little bit more nuance in the way Loki treats his own past (ie, instead of flippantly telling the story of his suicide attempt, maybe - if it must be flippant - talk about getting blasted in the face with Hawkeye's arrow or sailing through to Svartalfheim [And in that moment, I sang ta-daaaa!]) or whatever. 

I recognize that wanting full, in-depth exploration on all of these issues regarding a supporting character is probably too much to ask or expect - but, I also feel like, if you're going to be professionally writing a narrative (or rewriting/improvising, as it were), it's not too much to ask that a little more care be taken in regards to all of the layers that have contributed to said supporting character's downfall and subsequent redemption arc. I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to want. 

And maybe if there had been more nuance and continuity in how these things were portrayed on screen (ie, if TW had actually done as good a job as his stans think he did), the fandom wouldn't have divided and conquered itself over which "version" of the same character is more valid and whether or not the film did its best to close out a trilogy (not start a new one), to the point where everyone in this fandom space makes navigating it feel like walking through a minefield. 

But, I mean 

(Again, please don’t reblog if possible.) 

Edit: Okay to reblog. <3 

[middlemarchingband]

This is exactly the kind of thing that makes Astarion discussions, and by extension, the BG3 fandom in general, feel so hostile and unsafe. “Did it occur to you that being abusive is a trauma response?” “How dare you say you can’t stand Astarion, don’t you know that sexual coercion is a trauma response and all he knows?” “What do you mean you don’t find it fun to listen to Astarion scoffing at the very concept of altruism, why should he think otherwise after what happened to him?” Thus, “being cruel and racist to fantasy Romani kids that he had a direct hand in killing and condemning to eternal suffering is a trauma response, you’re the one out of line if you’re disgusted by that” is par for the course.

It makes me wonder how we got here. Which cruel characters are above even basic negative reactions because they themselves were abused? Why, the attractive white ones, surprise surprise. Meanwhile, I am sure the suggestion that since Cazador was also abused and tortured and also acts out of fear and also had his original self crushed to oblivion, Astarion owes it to him to be compassionate and sympathize with him? Would be met with outrage. But people see no contradiction in demanding that everyone sympathize with Astarion, essentially insisting that there are no acceptable dealbreakers no matter how cruel he is or how closely his cruelty mirrors real crimes and social ills (sexual coercion, racism, totally unnecessary pro-slavery attitudes). The idea that any player could see one of their IRL tormentors in Astarion is never entertained. It’s like there’s this arbitrary consensus that Astarion is objectively more important than anyone else in-universe, which has incredibly creepy implications. Responsibility for his actions (those that he took of his own free will as well as those he was coerced into but still did directly participate in) and responsibility to challenge and change his horrible worldview simply don’t apply to him. But nobody else gets this complete exoneration and mental gymnastics. Because no other trauma victim’s suffering is as bad as his, therefore it doesn’t matter, or something like that, who knows? And the game itself seems to be complicit in and feed off of these fan reactions, especially in light of the recent patches.

Is it any wonder that I got soured on the character despite him being decently written? Because whenever I run into a mention of him, all I can think of is this pervasive notion that Astarion matters more than literally anyone else. And nobody is entitled to that.

Other people don’t stop mattering because you suffered. Innocent people don’t stop mattering because you suffered. The very fact that you didn’t deserve anything that happened to you is inseparable from the fact that nobody else deserves suffering either. Because if they do deserve it, why didn’t you? If basic rights don’t entitle them to safety, why should they have entitled you to safety? But they do and they did. If it was unjust that it happened to you—and it was—it’s unjust to take it out on others. It is impossible to “suffer enough” to “earn” the right to dismiss and hurt others. That’s not how it works. And neither the game nor the loudest portion of the fandom has any interest in making Astarion even contemplate this, let alone learn it. The only thing that matters according to the game and to these people is that Astarion gets comfort, that Astarion gets to be happier, that Astarion gets to learn what real love feels like. And that apparently should matter more than suffering children.

Again, disclaimer, Astarion fans who don’t say these things are not the problem, but enough people do perpetuate these ideas to impact fan experiences, etc.

i should've staked him

[emerald-amidst-gold]

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request. 

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE* 

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.”  Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.”  The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.”   Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

[arcanistvysoren]

End of the Year Recap

2021 was unpleasant for most of us, and I am not exempt from it. Bringing up my personal brush with covid feels like beating a dead horse at this point, but even a year later I still cannot shake the post-covid syndrome. Aside from superficial symptoms, like not regaining the full use of my taste buds, it hit my liver pretty hard, resulting in it losing the ability to properly process chemicals, including the meds that I take for my mental illness. Which meant I abruptly spiraled back into the cruel waiting arms of my severe depression.

November was hell. I had been gradually feeling worse this autumn until suffering a full-on breakdown around September. I had completely given up and lost the will to fight on. The future looked bleak. My best years were just passing me by as I was stuck in the bog of my depression, unable to do anything. Even going outside once a day to walk my dog caused me to return home and burst into tears and spend next forty minutes in hysterics. I couldn’t function. How was I supposed to go out, meet people, fall in love, hold a job, grow as a person, when I couldn’t leave my room, and I saw no progress in my condition in the past 2 years?

Well, at the beginning of December, my therapist prescribed me new medication. A Japanese drug called Lurasidone. And it was a game changer. So far my body is able to process it and send it to my brain, and I feel like a whole different person. I forgot that human beings actually can experience life like that. It's been years since I was able to leave my building block and it not be a struggle. Now? I can visit with my grandmother and entertain her through the lockdown, as she is cooped up alone in her flat. I started going to physical therapy. I went and did the lasik correction surgery. I have sprouted wings. I can leave my house, I can work, I fully experience life as a healthy human being. It's magical. I could cry with joy.

This all being said, my primary passion continues to be writing, of course, and writing fanfiction, and I am unable to do it when my depression gets bad. I once had a conversation with a friend of mine, who is a game dev, and he asked if I can tell when editing my writing if something was written when I had a bad day. Because, he says, that sometimes he starts delving into his line of code, and he will say to himself: Oh, I clearly coded this when I was pissed off. And he asked if it was the same for me, and I had to confess that no. It's not. Because for me writing is fully joyful, and I simply cannot produce a single word when I don't feel joy. When I'm depressed? No writing gets done. Which is why my AO3 is so sparsely updated.

Well, it's been a little under a month on this new drug, and I'm feeling pretty optimistic about it. I hope that in the battle of covid vs. depression meds it will continue winning, which means I will be able to get more writing done in 2022.

Last year, my New Year Resolution was to write a sex pollen fic 😅, because I love the trope and I wanted to tackle it at least once. I met that goal and I'm very happy with the end result. This year's writing resolution will be to write more Dragon Age fanfiction. My craving for DA is at an all-time high, and I want to exorcise the ideas swirling around my big brain.

Either way, 2021 is ending on a super happy note for me. Thank you, new drugs. This is the energy I want to take into 2022. 🎇🎉🎄🌟

[letsdiscoverkitty]

Home/Family Update - May 2021

I will take this right back to when I was discharged from the Priory in December. From there I moved back home with my parents; it was a bit of a difficult transition as I didn't have any home leave in the lead up to being discharged due to COVID and my consultant wanting me to make the most of my time on the ward. Add to that my EDP going completely awol, meaning that our whole 4 week pre-discharge meetings and relapse prevention plan went out the window. So yes it was a bit of a rocky start, and that is without you factoring in COVID lockdown/Christmas.

Being discharged from an IP setting is never easy no matter who you are; changes in environment and routine can throw you off track without you even realising it and I did find myself struggling with this. I also had the difficult navigation of adapting to coming home in terms of my dad and his recovery. For those who might not know, last March my dad fell down the stairs in the middle of the night the day that my parents arrived home after a month in NZ. He suffered 3 brain bleeds (a subdural, an extradural and a subarachnoid), multiple facial fractures and a break in his spine. That night was one of, if not THE, worst of my life. We were told that it was very likely that he would not survive and that if he did he would be in a vegetated state or not able to take care of himself...we were told to prepare for the worst. By some MIRACLE he defied all the odds and at the age of 74 after spending 11 or so days on the ICU, a further 2 weeks on a trauma ward and then another 3 months in a neuro rehab, he was discharged home and is now, a year on from the accident, completely independent, no sign of further brain bleeds and is actually much fitter than he has been for, well, 50 years! Honestly, we never expected anything like this sort of recovery and from an outside perspective he is doing perfectly. However, there are things that will never be the same again and I don't think it is until you are with someone 24/7 that you are able to tell. He has changed quite a bit as a person; in some ways this is a good thing but in other ways it is not so. He cannot deal with changes in environment or routine; even things like having the bread on the side instead of in the bread bin completely throws him off and he doesn't even register that the bread is there. He gets very easily agitated, can be extremely rude and a little aggressive. Now some of this was already there (a lot of it was) but it has become more acutely obvious since the head injury. I have SO much respect and love for my mum - I really dont know how she has held herself up over the past 2 years, as well as helping dad when he was initially transitioning home (I was still in hospital but it sounded like he needed a lot of help for the first few months - which I only saw an inch of when they were able to visit me in hospital (he used to wander off and didn't know where he was etc. which is thankfully no longer and issue!)).

This is hard for me to say but I will admit that I have struggled more than I thought I would with being around him; in short I pretty much went through the whole mourning process whilst I was in hospital as the last time i saw him on the trauma ward before they stopped all visits and before I was admitted, he didn't know who I was...He thought he lived in another country and was telling me all sorts of stories that were fabricated, before telling me that he needed to go and pick up the mercedes and drive to sainsburys to get the Gin and petrol (we don't have a mercedes and he doesn't even like gin!) Anyway, I digress. So yes, I basically mourned for someone who was still alive physically but mentally had changed as at the time I didn't know whether he would be in a vegetated state or make a good recovery. Thankfully we are on the good side and he is doing so incredibly well but the bottom line is that he is different and living with him, at the age of 26, is HARD. We have good days and bad days (as any young adult who lives with their parents does) and there are many many days that I wish I wasn't living at home but I do my best to hold myself together during those times, especially for my mum because she, I tell you, is absolutely incredible. How she has put up with him for so long I honestly do not know!

Talking of mum, I would say that since the whole accident with dad, we have become a LOT closer. We really had to lean on each other over that month; we were driving down to Brighton every single day to see dad on the ICU and on the Trauma ward until we were stopped from visiting - it was mentally and physically exhausting for the both of us, especially as we were still barely processing the trauma and struggling with flashbacks in the night. We were the first ones on the scene of the accident (if it weren't for mum's medical training, dad would not be alive today). Of course we still have our moments but I feel like our relationship almost "levelled up and matured over the past year. We have bonded over being in nature and walking (because what else can you do when the country is in lockdown!?! but also because we have always been an "outdoors" family (well my mum, Andi and me have))- we also talk about dad and the accident quite a bit too, which has helped me beyond belief (and her too). We give each other space, and yes there are days when we dont get on but who doesn't have days when they dont?

On balance I would say that home is "okay". It is manageable. No the environment is not perfect and I do find it affects my mental health quite a bit and holds me back in some ways (I cannot wait to be able to move out one day) but I am incredibly grateful to have parents that are willing to and can afford to take me under their roof and help me out during this time.

Gosh, this has already ended up so much longer than I thought it would, I am sorry! In short: home life is okay. We are here and that is the most important thing. We saw Andi a two-ish weeks ago as we were in Cornwall for our usual time-share (we were so lucky that Boris allowed self catering two weeks before our usual time share week) - I think it was good for them to get out of their flat as I don't think they had left the small area where they live since last September when we went down to Cornwall (I was given leave for a week as it was sold to my consultant to help my dad's recovery, which is definitely did but yes we did pull the right strings to get that one!)

Anyway, I shall leave this update here and start the mammoth task of the next one. I am sorry that this is taking me so long, it's quite hard to write and think back and reflect (although actually quite helpful for me to do) so I do find that I have to come back to it a few times. Please stick with me x

-----

I forgot to add that dad had an assessment before we went away to Cornwall to see whether he can have his driving license back and (as mum and I predicted) he failed. To say that he did not take it well would be putting it lightly!!! I am actually ashamed of the way that he behaved and the things that he said/the reasons he fabricated as to why he had failed (let's just say he got sexist and rude - which I have ZERO time for and was appalled by him - I am so glad I was not with him/mum after the assessment as I would have blown my fuse at hime). He could not even entertain the idea that he had failed. He blamed everything/anything else that he could - even saying that it was the system and one of the first things he said to me was "I understand now, I've worked it out, it's the system, they aren't allowed to pass many people first time so that's it", which I just *speechless*. Mum and I have talked about it a lot and we don't think that he has ever "failed" at anything in his life. He also believes that he is 10000%. fixed and has no issues or problems and doesn't need any support or guidance. He refuses to listen to mum and I when we try to tell him about how unwell he was, he refuses to believe it and won't take it. One thing that mum and I are very glad of is that all of this driving stuff is OUTSIDE of the family. He can't put it on us. It is coming from an external place and we can support him if he lets us but that is his decision as to whether he lets us or not. He has never been a good patient; and he also won't take any advice (in anything) from mum or let her be right about something either, which is just sad, really sad. This is not a new thing, it has always been this way. And the more I reflect on our family/have reflected over the past year with dad in hospital, the more I see that I don't like. The way dad has behaved and treated mum, how he was always missing in my childhood, how alcohol always came above family, how old fashioned and unwilling to learn he is, how distant and uninterested he was, how he never says please or thank you, never asks how anyone is and refuses to talk about mental health (yep, despite so much going on in our family with mental illnesses, he refuses to talk about it and won't even ask "how are you?" or offer support etc)...I don't mean to be so negative about him, I really don't. I love him, he is my dad, but there is a lot of healing that needs to be done, and it is going to take time.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Seven

It had been two days since she arrived at the Burrow for holiday. 

Within that time Hermione has done her absolute best to avoid the entirety of the family. Well, specifically a certain gangly, freckled git. 

Most hours she didn’t spend reading, the guilt was gnawing at her for being such an awful, unappreciative guest. She’d avoid meals when she could, but in the event she couldn’t evade Molly, Hermione would eat as quickly as she could before excusing herself. 

Ginny, like her mother, was very perceptive and quickly caught onto what was happening. Oftentimes the girl would peel whatever book Hermione had been latching onto away from her hands and practically force her down the steps. And in the event Ginny successfully got Hermione to the living room, she’d just sit idly and watch the family interact, never interjecting herself. 

Harry had stopped by from time to time, thankfully he never pried her from the bed, but surprisingly, he did make her talk. He knew, probably from Ron, of what Harry phrased as her ‘ridiculous’ plan to stay out of his way. When the conversation started turning to anything Ron, or even worse, Lavender related, she’d excuse herself and venture out into the garden. 

And besides the three parties mentioned, no one really bothered her. 

Fred and George did their best to get a laugh from her on the occasion she was downstairs. Mr.Weasley would greet Hermione warmly and ask if she’s heard from her parents. 

She hasn’t. Not since the day after she arrived. They had sent a brief letter informing their daughter that they arrived in France, they loved her, and that they would write soon. Despite their silence, Hermione still wrote them everyday for any answers. 

Bill, Charlie, and Fleur had just taken to small talk, but Hermione usually halted it, never allowing herself to get invested in conversation. Something she’d usually do. 

And as for Ron, well, some nights Hermione swears she hears his loud, familiar steps shuffling outside the door as he whispers with Ginny. But, whenever the door opened, it was just Ginny and Ginny alone. These instances always disappointed Hermione for some silly reason. 

Now, on the night before Christmas Eve, something she dreaded so much knowing she’d be unable to evade Mrs.Weasley’s insistence she join them, she sat in the garden. 

Normally this is where she’d retreat if Ginny or Harry had taken to pestering her from the camp bed she was now seemingly glued to. Or often the contents of her prized book were too heavy, and the fresh air eased her. But tonight, she came out for a different reason. That reason being, the sight of her trunk had begun to make her sick. 

Inside it held hope. Something she had lost months ago. 

When her parents originally agreed to let her stay at the Weasley’s for Christmas (not under the pretense of a possibly dying Arthur), she was ecstatic. Immediately she began searching for the perfect gifts.   

For Molly, she had found a lovely welcome mat with small embroidered stars around the thick lettering. It would look perfect on the front steps. 

For Arthur, a Muggle alarm clock. It was both practical and for him, fascinating. 

She had picked up a broom cleaning kit down in Diagon Alley. Harry was attached to his Firebolt, so Hermione figured he’d appreciate it. In addition, she had a picture printed of him and Sirius from last Christmas. The brunette just hoped she wasn’t over stepping with that one. 

For Ginny she had gone with a few hair clips similar to the ones the ginger told her she liked over the summer. That and of course, a book on the best female quidditch players who ever lived. 

Hermione had been perusing a Muggle shop before coming to the Burrow over the summer, and there were the perfect gifts for the twins. A Muggle joke book along with a bag of whoopee cushions. They were harmless, but would surely keep the pair thoroughly entertained. 

Ron had informed Hermione early on about Charlie, Bill, and Fleur joining them for Christmas, so she was able to pick something up for them. For Charlie, she decided to go with something practical being this would be the first time they would meet. A few bottles of dittany (known to help burns and scratches from Dragons) along with a baby picture of Noberta, was what she had gone with. Bill and Fleur, being newly engaged, Hermione had gone with a joint gift. She had struck gold when she found a brilliant take on the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts shields combined. Something to remind them both of where they came from. 

And as for Ron, well, now she was afraid her original gift may be too personal for where they stood right now. She had gotten the idea from a talk they had back in fourth year, when he was fighting with Harry... 

“Where have you been?” Ron asked Hermione as she entered the common room. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just worried. 

At this, she flushed red, “I was uh, talking to Harry.” At this he made a noise of disgust, “well I wouldn’t exactly call it talking.” 

And for the briefest moment Ron paled, imagining the pair of them snogging. 

“What do you mean?” He barely managed, fumbling over his words. 

“Well,” she blushed again, “I mostly yelled and he well, he just stood there.” Hermione admitted sheepishly. 

“Why’d you yell at Harry?” Not that he was opposed to the action. 

And just like that she’s fired up again. Her hair crackles at the thought, “it’s completely unfair the way he’s treating you Ron! And I’m not going to let him get away with it.” She tutted. 

He stared at her in amazement, “but you told me you didn’t think he put his name in.” He pointed out softly. 

Hermione squirmed, “I don’t think he did, but that doesn’t give him the right to treat you the way he is. I suppose you tried to speak with him Ron and though I think he told you the truth, he didn’t have to be such an-” she paused, “he didn’t have to be so rude about it!” 

“Bloody hell! You were about to swear.” The smile on his face only grew. 

“No I wasn’t!” The brunette quickly defended, “anyway, he doesn’t understand it Ron. You’d think he would, you two are closer than I am to either of you.” Her voice dropped. 

The smile he was wearing soon slipped, “that’s not true Hermione.” If only she knew... 

At this, she remained silent, eyes trained on the fire. 

“What doesn’t he understand?” Ron whispers after a moment. 

Finally, her brown eyes meet his and she sighs, “Ron I know you better than you think I do.” If only he knew...

At this his face scrunched in confusion, imploring her to elaborate. 

“You don’t particularly care if Harry actually put his own name in or not, you just care that he’s making you feel second best.” She whispered, worried he’d react in red hot anger. 

Shocking them both, he merely gulped, “yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He admitted. 

“Oh Ron,” she said sadly, “I don’t know how it feels, being an only child, but you have to know when I think of you, I think of you alone.” Hermione confesses bravely. 

“What do you mean?” He dares to push her for more. 

“I don’t think of how Bill may be a brilliant Curse Breaker, or how Charlie is bravely taming Dragons, I don’t think about how Percy was Head Boy and expect you to want that too. Even the twins, whenever you make me laugh, I don’t compare it to how much they make me laugh. Ginny too, she may be brilliant at Quidditch but that doesn’t make you any worse.” 

He stares at her in shock, she takes this as confusion and goes on. 

“What I mean is Ron, is that you’re you, Ronald Weasley, and I don’t want you to be anyone else. I don’t expect you to be like anyone else, alright? If I wanted to be best friends with any other Weasley I would, but I’m not, amI? Am I even making sense?” She rambles, desperate for him to speak. 

Catching his breath, Ron nods and faces her, “I think I know what you’re trying to say Hermione.” A small smile finds its way across her face, “it’s just hard, when you’ve never had anything of your own, part of you feels like them. Does that sound mental?” 

His mind flashes to all the robes, books, bed sheets, and toys he’s shared with his siblings. 

In Bill’s old shoes, he feels like he has to be braver. 

Whenever he’s reading one of Charlie’s old Charms books, he feels like he has to be daring. 

In Percy’s robes, he has the sudden urge to make sure everyone’s doing what’s right. 

When his Mum gave him a mixture of Fred and George’s old quilts, he felt like he had to make his dormitory laugh whenever he was nestled underneath them.  

Even Ginny, his youngest sister, whenever he shared the family owl with her, Ron felt like his letter had to be an inch longer than hers. 

“It doesn’t sound mental Ron.” She assures, and the look in her eyes conveys nothing but understanding, it warms his heart. 

He huffs quietly, “Harry, I mean, he was my friend, and now, everyone’s gonna go around and want that too. And he’ll probably let them because what am I next to someone like Cedric Diggory?” He admitted. 

“Hey,” her hand fell atop his knee making him look at her with wide eyes, “you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, I wouldn’t trade you for a dozen Cedric Diggory’s.” Hermione gave his knee a small squeeze. 

And the action, the expression on her face, it all felt so sincere. So real. 

Bravely, he grabbed her small hand from where it was resting on his leg and held it snugly. 

“Thank you for yelling at Harry, it must’ve been wicked.” He teased with a light laugh. 

A chuckle moved past her lips, “that’s not exactly the word the first years who watched would use.” She said blushing. 

Ron beamed even more at this, imagining a feisty Hermione scaring away little first years as she took her anger out on the chosen one. 

“Ron, I just wanted to let you know,” she’s looking away, suddenly feeling shy, “that if you’d have me you know, I’m yours. Just yours.” It’s nothing but a whisper, barely heard over the crackling fire. 

The breath leaves his mouth so fast, it’s like a dementor’s kissing him. Quickly, he berates himself for allowing himself to think she means as anything more than friends. He’ll take it anyway. He thinks he’d take anything she has to offer. 

“Yeah,” he says softly, “yeah I’d definitely like that.” 

A grin etches its way across her features as she twines their fingers together. 

They sat like that the rest of the night. Not letting go even when Dean and Seamus eyed them from nearby. 

It wasn’t a grand gesture or declaration of love, but it was the start to the possibility of something more. And as Hermione spent the remainder of her night holding his hand as they talked in hushed whispers, Ron realized she could’ve been anywhere else. But instead, she was here. 

And for the first time in Ron Weasley’s life, he felt like the first choice. 

When recalling that night on the common room couch, something always stands out in Hermione’s brilliant mind. 

The fact that Ron said he’d never had anything that felt like his own. So with that in mind and the ever growing feelings the witch had blossomed for him, Hermione decided on something bold. 

It wasn’t exactly an ‘I love you’, but it was personal to him, and if he had cared that much about her to read into it, well he might figure out how important to her he really is. The fact that she’s cataloged just about every interaction they’ve had in the past six years. 

Wanting to convey as much without spelling it out, she had found a lovely oak whittled Wizarding Chess set. And in the box that held it, she had gotten ‘Property of Ron Weasley’ carved on the top. 

She’d even preemptively written the card: 

‘Something to call yours, Happy Christmas Ron. 

Love, Hermione.’ 

She had signed plenty of letters to him with those four letters, but part of her hoped that the note coupled with the gift may wake something within him. The possibility he feels the same way. 

However, she knows now that isn’t the case. It can’t be. Not when Lavender Brown will be waiting for him when they return to Hogwarts. 

So here she is, out in the garden, the Weasley’s garden no less, her precious book thrown aside, contemplating on whether or not she should give the gift. 

The selfish part of her says no. Hermione tells herself he doesn’t deserve anything from her after how he’s made her feel. 

Her morals scream otherwise. They’re telling her she’s the one who expected anything more than friendship from him and that she’s stupid to get so upset because he didn’t feel the same. 

Weighing her options, Hermione makes the quick choice to just give him the damn thing. One last act of friendship. A goodbye of sorts. 

She closes her eyes in pain, she just wants him happy, even if it kills her. And if that means distancing herself from him, then so be it. 

For the smartest witch of her age, she sure is oblivious to the fact that inside, only meters away, Ron is feeling the exact same way. 

...

“You know I don’t like how she just sits out there. She’s so far away.” Ron comments boldly from his place on the couch. 

“Ronnie, she’s not that far, you can see her from the window.” Fred says. 

“I don’t think he exactly meant physical distance.” Bill commented over the book he was reading, making the room laugh, as Fleur elbowed him harshly. 

He blushes, “shove off! The lot of you, I just mean that things aren’t exactly safe.” He points out. 

Ginny scoffs from the couch, “please Ron, the wards here are almost as tight as the ones at Hogwarts.” She points out. 

Bill speaks again, “yeah, Dumbledore himself helped put them up. He came by here with Mad Eye over the summer while we stayed at Grimmauld place.” 

Ron sighed, “you still don’t know, I mean, look at Charlie. He just waltzed on up.” He defended. Harry seemed to agree, but said nothing. 

“Well to be fair Ronnie, I know exactly where the Burrow is, I reckon You-Know-Who and his followers could care less about where a bunch of pure bloods live.” Charlie pointed out. 

“Technically, we’re blood traitors.” Ron commented. 

They ignored this, “anyway, there is an apparition line, why do you think I walked up from the pond? That’s where it ends.” He reminds. 

“Still it’s rather close and look at Hermione, she’s not far off from the pond at the edge of the garden.” The youngest Weasley boy says peering out the window again, watching as the witch reads that same damned book soundly under a tree. 

The twins began to laugh, “you sound almost as paranoid as Harry over there.” Fred teased causing the dark haired boy to give him a small shove, but a grin played on his lips no less. 

“Ickle Ronniekins just wants his girlfriend inside so she’ll finally talk to him.” George reminded.

Ron opened his mouth, no doubt to say something nasty to his brothers, before Bill stopped him, “even if someone did apparate we’d hear it first Ron.” 

“Yeah,” Ginny chimed in, “we heard Charlie the other night.” 

“Exactly.” The eldest Weasley agreed. 

“Ron if you are so worried you could always go out there too, no?” Fleur suggested with raised brows and a mischievous smile. 

At this Bill proudly kissed her cheek as the room erupted in snickers as the blonde joined the fun. 

“Yeah Ickle, listen to the last, why don’t you go sit with her? Unless...” he began knowingly. 

“Unless what Fred?” George asked his twin. 

“Unless little Hermione would rather be taken by death eaters than spend time with Ronniekins.” 

 “That’s not even something to joke about Fred!” Ron boomed angrily, suddenly feeling faint at the idea of the likes of someone like Malfoy’s dad anywhere near Hermione. 

“Alright.” Charlie said standing, “Ron, don’t you have reading to do or something?” He asks his heaving brother who looks like he’s about to pounce on Fred. 

Surely, this calms his breathing, “right, reading.” He says gruffly, quickly exiting the room. 

“Honestly, he’s so sensitive.” George mutters to his brother. 

The room is still tense. No one speaks for a few minutes, and it’s Ginny who breaks the silence. Her eyes are wide as a somewhat amused smile strikes her lips. 

“Wait, did you just say Ron’s reading?”