#i mean i've also been feeling a bit overwhelmed at the slightest of things but still in a good mood somehow

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Hope you're doing well. 😊

i am doing sooooooo well(despite russ's facebook page dangling mystery information in front of everybody's faces and me possibly exploding soon)

i hope you're also doing well!!

💜

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #10: MY DARLING, MY COMPANION

(also on spotify!)

It's the Constant Companions Closeups! A series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, we talked about gender with Object of Affection! Today, we've made it to the title track (kinda?)! My Darling, My Companion! Do you think she's figured out what she wants to hear yet

---

Every time I first embark on the process of making another album, I always think I know what the final product will look like. This is a fairly recent phenomenon, born of the part of me that thinks that planning things out and being somewhat disciplined in the act of creation will ultimately lead to a better final product. That's fair and all, but it's also genuinely never how things actually shake out, as I almost always toss that out the window and just start writing shit the first chance I get.

Constant Companions, however, is the closest I've gotten to actually following through on those initial ambitions. Well, maybe not the initial ambitions - without fail, every time I finish an album, there's a two week period where I start writing new material thinking "this next album's gonna be the MOODY one" and it's never the moody one - but rather the plan I developed once my pile of works-in-progress started looking album-shaped.

There's always been some amount of self-referential leitmotif-loving song-series energy in what I've written - Imaginary, Effervescent and Secret Girlfriend; sampling myself on Too Much Autotune or Second Hello; that little four note motif. I had been leaning even further into it with People Posture Play Pretend and 🤼‍♀️, bringing the little interconnected background radiation straight to the forefront, and I wanted to keep going.

So, I would take that mindset and write about motifs - the things that have stuck with me and gotten me to where I am - the hopes that I've clung to, the dreams I want to make real, the patterns that I keep finding myself in. The things that haunt me and the things that keep me living.

...

My constant companions, if you will.

wait didn't i already do that bit. what was i talking about when i did that

This might be incredibly obvious if you've already read the Closeup for Breeze Blows, but yes, this is another song about being plural.

Like I said previously, writing these self-directed songs portraying internal conversations has been a very big part of finding peace within myself. Having to confront a part of myself both alien and overly familiar with seemingly a mind of her own is, understandably, scary as shit in countless ways! If nothing else, it feels like sometimes I can't even talk about it out loud without sounding completely gone.

But it's made me realize and really think about something I think most people take for granted, something that feels silly to even say out loud given how obvious it is but that has completely changed my relationship with myself - you are always a part of your own life.

The overwhelming, ceaseless negative self-talk I lived with for however many years never went away because it was a part of me, and no amount of compartmentalizing or boxing-up or repression or anything helped even in the slightest compared to the act of showing her kindness and patience, letting her be a genuine part of me, being a friend to her. Doing so revealed to me a happier, more hopeful part of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

Letting yourself be yourself, and loving yourself for who you are, is the best way to be!

or something. that feels so fucking dr seuss of me to say whatever we're corny here we will Be corny

---

The working title of this song was "Hathaway", inspired entirely by my friend Lexie messaging me one morning about a dream in which I had released a song named as such. Naming and writing songs based on dreams is maybe my most beloved bit at this point, but my girlfriend ultimately convinced me to make the title My Darling, My Companion. Mostly because she (correctly) thought it'd be cooler than just a pure title track.

The verses were written by sampling my own previous demo for a title track, turning it into a call-and-response between me and GUMI, and the chorus was lifted almost word-for-word from another demo of mine using Teto. That second demo was partially inspired by the character Morgan from the visual novel Heart of the Woods - which I mostly bring up because it's just a really good yuri VN that is near and dear to my heart. And also because my friend Teffi voices the character Tara in said VN. And also because I recorded my vocals for this song at her house. And also because the voice that says "me when I'm goated as fuck" right before the second verse is in fact Teffi in the recording booth with me. Yuri runs deep in my veins.

Speaking of which, this song, in my mind, is one dedicated to advancing my agenda of GUMI x Teto, albeit subtly and in a roundabout way.

See, GUMI has always been something of an idealized voice in my other work. The songs of mine she sings historically have always been hopeful, upbeat, expressing some sense of comfort - I Wish That I Could Fall maybe being the only exception, and even then still offering some hope in the end.

On the flipside, there's a part in verse two where my voice is swapped out for Teto for a couple lines. I couldn't really tell you what it is, since it's not in terms of timbre or range, but Kasane Teto - her Synth V voicebank especially, but really all iterations of her - is the vocal synth that feels the most like a stand-in for my own voice. And really, writing with her almost seems to bring out parts of myself that are a bit too honest.

These two juxtaposed against each other made perfect sense. It helps that they have The Color Scheme, too.

Finally, this song is basically just one big reference to my song Destiny, from back in 2018, and it even closes out with lyrics based very directly on its closing refrain. I don't have much else to say on that front - but there's another Jamie Paige song this bears some shared DNA with, and a blatant reference to it is hidden in plain sight right as the bridge transitions to the outro.

Do you know what it is?

That's the post! If you have any questions, feel free to send them my way - I'm planning on doing a big AMA style bonus post after the album's finished!!

Speaking of which, tomorrow, we'll be talking about the eleventh and final track on the album - a simple little song about a computer falling in love... :~)

[crocheting-cupio]

Recently I remembered the ONE time another kid tried to bully me (this happened only once because I was homeschooled) and how he just... failed so miserably because I did not care and was not intimidated in the slightest. And I also may have changed the course of that kid's life. Bit of a long one just because I like telling detailed stories.

So the town I lived in was throwing a Canada Day celebration in the park behind town hall. And by park I mean it was a rectangular clearing in a forest. Anyway, they got a water slide, a bouncy castle, a guy doing balloon animals, a stage to play music that evening, fireworks, and my Mom was doing face painting. There was like around 30-40 kids at the event.

Almost every kid wanted their face painted, so my Mom was pretty busy that day. But this one kid around my age (9) was, for some reason, very insistent on getting his face painted before everyone else. When it was his turn, he was really unhappy with my Mom's job and demanded she redo it. And when she refused, I think he punched her in the arm (although obviously not very hard) and his dad took him away to give him "a talk" and told him not to bother her anymore.

A little later that day, he's just kind of brooding with his arms crossed near our tent. Then he walks up to me and asks if there's anything I can do to change my Mom's mind. I was like, "No???? Why would I help you? You hit my Mom!" I think he offered me all the change he had in his pocket, but I refused. Then he threatened to steal my lunch money or something next time he saw me and I said, "I don't even go to school! Let alone YOUR school." Then I pointed out there's other fun things still available to him that he could be doing, but chose to keep bothering me and my Mom. And he just... walked away looking defeated.

As the day went on I noticed he kept getting himself into trouble by being rude or trying to get into fights. Although the fighting thing didn't work out because, since we were in a big clearing with plenty of adults present, the other kids could just run away. I think he got himself kicked out of the water slide as well.

By this point, I was very overwhelmed and drained by sound, so I wandered off to a quieter area to enjoy an orange soda in peace. As I finished it off, the kid comes back and says, "Do you wanna fight?!" and I'm like, "No why would I want to fight you??" But he didn't wait for an answer and managed to punch me twice, but not very hard. Even as a 9 year old it didn't feel like a strong punch. I dropped my empty can and grabbed both his hands so he couldn't keep swinging and said, "HEY! If you keep fighting me I'll tell my Mom and your dad and he'll take you home for being bad! You've been getting in trouble all day! Then you won't get to hear the music OR see the fireworks! And is that what you want?!" He didn't answer, but the answer was clearly no.

He stopped trying to fight me and I let go. I didn't try to push him away or anything, I didn't even take a step back and simply stood where I was, and this seemed to confuse him. Like he was anticipating that I would want some kind of revenge or want to "win" the fight. But truly I did not want to hurt him, I didn't even dislike him. I had also had bad days where I wanted to fight everybody, but I knew that sometimes when you're angry you say things you don't mean and hurt the people that you care about. I felt he did not actually dislike me (or anyone else at that event) but was just frustrated and didn't know how to deal with that feeling.

Then he tried to insult me, but that also didn't work. It went something like this:

Him: "You're STUPID." Me: "Well, I don't think so because I read a lot of books. I've read every science book we have at home and most of the ones at the library." "Well, you're UGLY." "I look just like everyone else?? Besides, there's not really any ugly people." "Well, your FACE is stupid!" "My face can't be stupid? Only our brains can be stupid." "Well, your mom is FAT!" "That's only because she had me and my siblings. Getting fat after you get pregnant happens to a lot of women. And there's nothing wrong with being fat." "Well, your outfit SUCKS!" "I like my outfit and it's comfortable for me to wear, and that's all that matters to me. You're the first person to say you don't like my outfit, most people like what I wear." "You're so WEIRD!" (It was clear to me at this point he was running out of insults.) "Well, my whole family is weird so that makes sense. We don't think there's anything wrong with being weird because everyone is a little weird. You're weird too, and that's okay. :)"

I had noticed that he didn't seem angry anymore, but just confused and trying to figure me out. And he asked very genuinely, "Why don't you care...?" And I said, "Well, I don't really know you because we just met today, I don't go to your school, and unless they have another event like this again then we're probably never going to see each other again. Why SHOULD I care what you think?"

And he looked completely defeated and like he had never considered this. I had laughed because it was funny to me how I couldn't be bullied despite his best efforts, then he walked away. I caught up to him and tried to apologize for laughing, because I didn't want to make him think I was laughing AT him, but he brushed me off and said it was fine. So I let him go on his way.

Later, during the mini concert, I saw him again with his dad. The dad had stood near-ish to us without realizing it, and I heard the kid say to his dad that he didn't want to be near "the scary girl." I was very confused by this as I thought I was very unintimidating and approachable. But it was kind of funny to me that he found me scary.

Hilariously, I DID see him again about two weeks later at a different and much smaller community event. When he saw I was there he ran up and asked if I remembered him. I said, "No, are you a friend I made before?" and he was aghast that I didn't remember him. Then I mentioned that I'm terrible at recognizing faces so this wasn't usual.

He had jogged my memory by describing what he did that day and then I was like "Oh yeah, I remember you now! :)" Then he asked with genuine curiosity, "Did you cry when you got home?" and I was like, "No? Because your insults didn't hurt me? When we got home we had supper and then I went to bed, just like any other day." This baffled him. He asked if I really wasn't hurt, and I once again confirmed that I was completely unaffected.

I think at this point his dad had come over and asked if his son was bothering me, and I told him that no, we were just talking.

After his dad was gone, I asked him if he was doing okay. He seemed very angry that day and I wanted to know if he was feeling alright. Turns out he was doing poorly in school and was also being physically abused by his father (which I was actually aware of because I'd seen his dad hit him on Canada Day). So I was like, "Oh no! That's awful. Do you want a hug?" He did take the hug after I convinced him that hugs are not inherently romantic and we shouldn't care if other people think we are dating because WE know we aren't, and it seemed like he really needed that hug.

Then he started asking me big questions. Like how do you just not care about what anyone thinks? Why are you nice to me even though I was mean to you? How do I become smart like you? And I gave him the best answers I could: Because other people's opinions are not nearly as important as they seem, because I'm just nice to everyone and you seemed like you were in a bad spot, and because I read a lot of books and watch educational TV shows. I even offered him some advice for how to manage his anger because he had said he got into a lot of fights a school and at home and always felt angry. I told him to just rip up a box or punch a soft toy when he felt like fighting because that's what I did. Or spend some time alone to cool down. And the classic take some deep breaths.

After that, we did the whole event thing that was happening. I'm pretty sure I did say goodbye, though.

I saw him another time a few months later, and he excitedly told me that my advice really helped and he hadn't started a fight in several weeks. He had also been reading more, was now taking regular trips to the library, and said his grades had improved a lot. Like, from getting a D on average to a B or B+ in almost every class kind of improved. And his parents even bought him an expensive toy that he always wanted as a reward. Most importantly, he said his dad almost never hit him now. I gave him a celebratory hug, because that's such a huge improvement and he seemed genuinely a ton happier. He wasn't a bully now, he was just a normal kid. And arguably he was better off in some ways than the other kids.

I hope that guy is doing okay now. I really do. He seemed like he just needed someone to talk to and who would listen.

[seafoamchild]

another new year. we stayed in and watched Point Break for NYE. i reflected a little bit on 2024 and it was not an easy year. i was so depressed and anxious for most of it, especially at the beginning when i didn't know what i was going to do after moving out. i started a new relationship, moved out, traveled a lot. did not really have a home and lived out of suitcases and trash bags for like almost 5 months! no wonder i was stressed.

sober january was really fun, going to museums and drinking mocktails and exploring. our trip to florida was perfect and amazing. costa rica sucked; i learned that my mom's cousin who i looked up to all these years is actually one of those "i'm gonna heal myself with meditation and mushroom journeys and i'm such a compassionate badass woman who runs my own company" when actually she was one of the most self-centered and scatterbrained people i've met in quite a while, and her "company" was a joke. she had wild, unchecked ADHD and it was so annoying.

it was particularly annoying because i see so much of the same ADHD things in myself. the more i read about it, the more i'm certain i have it. it's affected me in tremendous ways. i started feeling like i was really stupid in high school because i started to get bad grades in math classes. i almost failed statistics. and it wasn't for lack of trying - i tried really hard and went in for extra help all the time. and i would always fuck up the tests because i missed a negative sign or a decimal place or some other little detail. it was always the little details that i would overlook. so i struggled in math and science, even though the concepts interested me - the tests made me feel so goddamn stupid and i got very depressed.

when i think about the whole decade of my 20s, so much seems obviously ADHD related - horrible experience in college, totally unwilling to take any classes that were "boring", very interested in doing drugs. unable to tolerate the same job for more than several months, maybe a year. i mean, to this DAY i have never had the same job for more than like, a year and a half with no extended breaks in between. i also couldn't live in the same place for long. my record is three and a half years. i would get SO bored and miserable after a while and the craving for dopamine/novelty was so overpowering that i HAD to go travel or do some seasonal job. i was an orchard worker, a landscaper, a conservation corps worker, a server, a bartender, a struggling web designer, a fruit seller, a kiwi picker, and an English teacher in Vietnam.

and i still cannot formulate an idea or a plan for what i want to do because i cannot focus long enough on something that is stressful. like today i sat down with my laptop with the intent of looking for career counselors and jobs and i ended up signing up for a bunch of paid medical studies and buying a new pair of running shoes. at the slightest bit of frustration or overwhelm (my tolerance is low) i start shutting down and feeling like i'm such a failure who is incapable of completing simple tasks. everything feels SO HARD. EVERYTHING. how i have to use so much sustained energy just to listen to someone who is talking to me and half the time i find that my mind has wandered and i didn't hear what they said. how my brain NEVER shuts up and it feels like there are 200 youtube videos playing at once, like all the time. as soon as i close my eyes to go to sleep, no matter how tired i am, my mind is like a tornado of thoughts and songs and ideas and scenarios and imagined conversations and random memories from 10 years ago.

i am just tired and frustrated and i feel isolated and alone. i don't have a therapist here yet because i haven't gotten my insurance card yet so i haven't been able to look for one. but i'm so tired of feeling like i'm trying to accomplish a task and then instead end up doing 12 things that aren't that task and feeling like i've failed and wasted time. i'm tired of not being able to finish what i start because the dopamine runs out and i get bored. and i'm tired of having so mcuh emotional dysregulation. i need help!

[friend-of-a-cat]

Gender crisis update: I'm even more confused than I was previously. I've done some more research because at one point I didn't feel like agender really fit because I still felt 'gender', it just wasn't a gender that, like, exists, if that makes sense? I thought I felt a general sense of gender without it being targetted towards a specific gender. Like, I can look at someone and be like 'oh my god, they are so gender and I need their gender' but when I think about it I'm like... eh. Maybe that's just aesthetic attraction talking. Anyway, I did some research about all of this and found some terms but like... I don't know. It's a lot. And I also don't know if I care that much. I mean, I do care, because I'm someone who loves problem-solving and figuring things out (also I have OCD and anxiety so it's been nagging at me) so it's a bit frustrating not knowing what exactly my gender is. But also... I feel like I shouldn't overthink it, you know? It's breaking my brain. Right now, my gender is a question mark. I certainly don't feel like I fully connect with being a woman. At one stage I felt closer to being a guy, because if gender is based on stereotyped interests and behaviours and roles and traits (the only definition I can really understand regarding what gender actually is, because I still don't fully know), I know that I relate more to the idea of being a guy than I do being a woman in that sense (mostly in terms of interests). But I also don't feel like a guy lol. Then I felt a little bit like I could be genderfluid, because I feel like a mixture of masculine and feminine and also neither of those things, but at the same time I still don't 'get' or 'feel' gender, and think it's stupid, and I would rather unsubscribe from it. I also don't relate to being nonbinary (or transgender, for that matter). Which sounds more agender than anything else, but I can't shake the fact that I also don't fully feel like that, at least right at this moment. Probably the feeling I'm feeling is me 'relating' to all genders on the basis of me just thinking that nothing should be gendered in the first place, but then mistaking that for feeling like I am a gender. Who knows? Certainly not me.

So anyway. I'm me, I guess. I think that's all that really matters. I've been trying to figure out what label fits because I thought it might be useful for others to know what I feel and identify as, but the process of finding one has been, frankly, annoying and overwhelming, so I'm just going to leave it for the time being. Though... when someone asks me my gender or my pronouns, what do I say? I guess I'd say that I don't know, but like, where's that on official documents and forms and the like? I wish I could draw an extra box to tick and the box says 'I don't know and I don't care'. Gender is not really all that important to me. Maybe that's a sign that I am, in fact, agender, but I don't know. Might talk to some people about it - not sure yet, because I'm a bit nervous about doing so lol and I don't know if people will get what I'm talking about. But yeah. Honestly, I don't expect anyone to read any of this stuff and I don't mind in the slightest, but hey, it's giving me an excuse to write out my feelings, so take this as a kind of journal entry that I just so happened to publish on the internet for a bunch of strangers to read lmao.

[elisedonut]

Hello hi hi it's the Percy/Sirius anon backk

I had to take a break from tumblr lol but I'm back now :)

Lately I haven't been writing much, feeling a little unmotivated for the ship rn ; - ; (totally have not been busy writing a James Potter/Percy Weasley fic with multiple POV's including Harry who is Not Happy with this asdfghj)

but anyway to your thing about omegaverse and control, for the purposes of the story it's not flat out sex pollen approach but yeah, pretty uncontrollable lol, which is fun to write sometimes :p

The most dubcon I think (I think) is the wedding night. So my approach is; Sirius has issues with control, with feeling like he has it, anxiety over losing it ect, but sex has always been the thing to make him feel calm, in his lane yk? So he kinda slips into his "role" during their wedding night while Percy is just there like "hello this is weird and I didn't know half this stuff existed why does this feel nice and why is everything so embarrassing literally kill me"

I'm trying to go for a Percy is very overwhelmed thing. Also! Idk if I've mentioned that they are in an arranged marriage because their ancestors had an agreement (before the Weasley's became known as blood traitors) that one Weasley omega was owed to a Black alpha (yeah, omegas really were treated like property back then haha) now originally I thought okay, percy would have to enter the agreement as soon as he's of age but I just. Ick. I just couldn't do it. It felt gross. I know it's not much better but Percy will be almost 19 at the time of his marriage instead because idk, consenting adult. Might bump it up to 20 tho. Thoughts?

On scents, I love the idea of scenting, as like a platonic or sexual thing. I just find it very intimate, very fun :) but I have no idea how to describe scents T^T like what does it smell like?? Can you describe someones scent as the scent of something else?? Maybe I'm overthinking lol

Also I only caught the typo on the snippet I sent as I sent it T^T "dragged a hard through his hair" lmaooo

Wb!!

also that is so valid I've been working on like seven things at once lately so i get you also neat rip Harry he really would hate that askdfjfads that's so fun

also hell yeah that sounds very fun for it a bit of a mid level of control nice nice

also Yeah Omega's being promised even before their birth is always an easy and fun set up

oh noo sdkjfklsd poor guys are just both suffering

overwhelmed Percy is always a vibe and rip Sirius his brain was like "this will relax you" but it was a lie he's now even more stressed

also yeah thats fair my thoughts are basic but i think you should do whatever makes you comfortable if you think you need to age him up you should age him up if you feel fine where he is you should leave him where he is

im so so not the best person to ask on that because ages in fiction just don't tend to ick me much and never have

like unless its really really outrageous i'm just like hmm alright this does not bother me in the slightest

like to me "of age" just is adult?

unless you mean like "of age" in a in-universe way where its the presentation age(in a lot of fics being like puberty age so early teens) in which case i can see what you mean about an expectation from those around them to jump into the relationship but also how you would be icked by it so yeah fair decision

but like i don't really think thats what you meant dkfjsdlf

IDK i'll be honest i just assumed it would be expected to happen as soon as Percy graduated so he'd be like 17 (since he only turns 17 a week or two before starting his 7th year)

But again you should do what makes you comfortable you can always hand wave anything with just "it being how things are done" or "Sirius was throwing a fit and was able to get it pushed back this much but he can't run forever"

for the whole scent thing

this might sound weird but i would just find a perfume/cologne you think works for the character and just steal the scent notes

like obv you can't say like

"She smelled so sweet, like Bath and Body Work Buttercups & Berry Bellini"

but you can just ignore the name and use the notes to just take and change as you see fit that makes it like sound pretty

like for that scent the notes are strawberry purée, buttercup flowers and bubbly prosecco

"She smelled so sweet, like a strawberry wine and freshly picked buttercups."

is that the same?

no but i think it works better then trying to make Prosecco fit if that makes sense

though you could always replace prosecco with like honeysuckle since according to google prosecco smells like honeysuckle

a more masc example is Like Freshwater - Italian bergamot, mountain spring water and oak moss

which again you can take and pick as you please but it gives an easy starting point maybe? and gives you a scent in your head if you have it with you

"He always smelled like the air after rainfall. With hints of bergamot from his tea and the oak of his wand it always made him feel like home."

or uh something like that idk

tbh most people only smell like person but in something like omegaverse you can be more creative with that like they don't have to just smell musky

I don't know how well this works in practice because i haven't really explained scents much in fic but it popped in my head when i read this so i think it could work as a method with some tweaking

[coldau]

This poem kind of haunted me while trying to take a nap because the meaning is so strong from the author's POV it also deeply resonated with me as a person in a closed three way polycule so I'm gonna ramble about that under the cut. Ignore me I kind of just... have so many thoughts.

This is a very very sweet message, it's full of the warmth of the author. An open relationship- from what I can tell- that the author has with the people in question, where they're not quite a thing at all but there's still a lot of gentle appreciation.

Being full of the love that they have overflowing for one another, like a crucible catching what spills from a basin. When people have so much love that they can give more to the person they're sleeping with. And the pleasant delight of being able to peek into a relationship like that without throwing a wrench in it, you are a sampler at a vineyard.

They're sparing you that moment in time to give you the care you need, too. Make sure you get home safe, leave you with a kiss that sits happily in your belly.

Maybe they'll have the author over again, tempted by the smells of perfume. Maybe they won't. But the author is satisfied and happy.

(And now for the part about me because I'm an inherently selfish person)

At the start of my relationship with the people I love, I resigned myself to a bit of a test run. I was a third party tentatively taking a step into a relationship that wasn't originally mine. One of the people was my best friend in the world, the other mostly a stranger I knew only from anecdotes since they began dating years and years before.

I wanted to make sure that I didn't make one person feel invalidated by the bond I had with the other. I didn't want to overwhelm one person with too much love because I knew she was a soft soul.

I'd told them we'll float it for a bit and see how it goes, and that there'd be no hard feelings if they felt like they couldn't fit me in.

I've been in the back of that car so many times now, staring out the window while they talk in the front seats. Not talking because the conversation is something involving just their plans for the day ahead- and also a little because I just simply can't hear them. But the drone of their voices was comforting to me.

We're unable to kiss goodbye, hiding our relationship in a town that's not welcoming- in a place our parents might reject us. But hugs are traded around and I'm given a head pat for good measure.

It's a good feeling. And I understand the poem so well.

The thing that differs from me and the author is that I hoped for more at the time, and the leftovers weren't enough- I wanted a feast of love. And I know there's no loneliness there for the author, but for ME, and only me- I can feel a loneliness in my bones still.

Things are different now, I know I'm a solid structure now. But I can still feel that tentative hope and warmth in this poem that only is for me, and it made me smile at the memories of that slightly more tumultuous time. I know the author didn't mean it that way in the slightest. But still.

It kept me awake remembering those times. And for a poem to have a resonating feeling for me just kind of made me stop and think, and I wanted to journal those feelings.

who’s up thinking about after the threesome they both take you home by sue hyon bae i’m thinking about after the threesome they both take you home by sue hyon bae

[lennjamin-o7]

🌯🗡️ anon here! The new chapter was so good! I love how you wrote Techno's anger and the subtle parts where he's trying to reinforce and further justify how betrayed he feels! It feels very natural and like real if you get what I mean!

I also love the angst between him and Wil right now! (twinsduo my beloved) You can tell Wilbur isn't used to things not going the way he expects and you can see quite easily how he's trying to make things right again but is only making it worse because he's just not stepping back and like reviewing the situation like Phil is! Oh and the stuff with the medic! I adore how you showed the like clear contrast between Prince Wilbur and the Wil that Techno knows when the doctor was looking over Tech.

I can't wait to see the angst potential hit full force when Tech inevitably snaps at Tommy after he pushes too far, tiny boy isn't as smooth as he thinks with pushing the family dynamic more, he's too excited about getting a new big / little brother. Also, I loved the bit between Tech the scalpels, he is ABSOLUTELY the type to just have a fuck tonne of sharp objects on him in general; bro would 100% eventually hide daggers in his braids if he's given chance.

Oh and Phil! I like how we can never really tell what he's plotting or what he truly knows! Wil and Tommy are easier since they're younger and less used to the whole long term tactics thing (also we've had more time with them) but Phil is a very smart boy and is very clearly enjoying the mental chess he has to do with Tech. He definitely knows somethings up with Techno but I don't think he's worked out the quirky little update the blood god installed into his new baby boy. Though the random 100 mile stare that Tech keeps taking on might just be the hint Phil needs.

As always, I'm sorry if I've overstepped or overwhelmed you (I'm just very excited about the chap, I've reread it like 4 times already lmao) and I hope you feel better soon since being sick always sucks!

Welcome back, my refried friend 💚 I absolutely welcome your messages.

It is such a struggle to write Technoblade resisting the Family Dynamic because I want cuddles NOW. But it's just...not realistic. Technoblade's character is too stubborn for that, he's been kidnapped, he's not just going to roll over and accept that. If he didn't accept being under the thumb of the church for 19 years, he's not going to fall into line with a couple of words and a nice bowl of soup. He's traumatized, untrusting, angry, chafing under his lack of control. Which means I don't get to write cuddles yet.

Forced hug, on the other hand.

Wilbur in this is having a hard time. He is certain that if he can just get Technoblade to listen to him, he could explain everything. And maybe he could! But Technoblade has no intention to hear him out. Which is FRUSTRATING for Wilbur, who hasn't had to convince someone to listen to him without a little supernatural aid in a LONG TIME. He's out of practice with it. He has always been a charismatic person, even before being a vampire. But maybe, JUST MAYBE, he got a little lazy and relied a bit too much on thralling. Totally not something Philza has tried to tell before all of this.

Unfortunately, he is also impatient now. He's HAD nice moments with Technoblade. And he wants MORE nice moments with Technoblade. And he just wants to quickly get past this "little hiccup" so they can get back to that.

Except, its more than a "little hiccup". The problem with not associating with many people who aren't slightly afraid of you is that you kind of forget how to actually TALK to people. Like, is he a convincing silver-tongued spy? Yes. Does he really understand how his words affect people emotionally? Not really. He's good at manipulating and gaslighting, not so much at forming meaningful relationships.

He's just the slightest bit stupid when it comes to emotions.

Also, Technoblade's not going to just grab ONE sharp object, come on. He wants a backup knife at LEAST.

Tommy is going to have very...interesting interactions with Technoblade. And it will certainly be much different than Wilbur's approach.

Philza is a-scheming, for sure. He knows he is coming into this with bad blood (pun absolutely intended). And, as chaotic as he can be at times, he is also a tactician. I won't call him patient because he definitely is NOT patient. A patient man doesn't just kidnap people. But he is willing to take a step back and find the best approach, as you said.

Also, I cackled at your comparison to Chat as if it was an OS Update. That is incredibly funny AND accurate lololol.

Of course, you never bother me. And hopefully it won't be long before I am better. But I can't get to the doctor until tomorrow. Fingers crossed for all good news, on that front.

[maybeimamuppet]

picking teams- chapter 8: cady

helloooo folks happy wednesday!! welcome to the homecoming chapter ooooh. also only next chapter you'll actually get some cadnis finally lol whoops 

tw for 

disordered eating thoughts 

slut shaming 

homophobia

implied SA

and as always if i've missed anything please let me know so i can add it :)

enjoy!

—————

Cady finds herself really enjoying the tutoring sessions she has with Janis. 

Janis is polite. She always says hello and chats briefly with Cady's parents on the rare occasions they're there at the same time. She never leaves messes when Cady offers her something to eat while they work, and she's never pushy during the actual tutoring. 

Cady's also learned that she's much smarter than people give her credit for. Janis' questions may be about things Cady finds simple, but after a more in depth explanation and a few extra practice problems, she picks things up in no time. Not to mention how much she's helped Cady with her English and history homework assignments. 

But, the best part is, Janis is so... sweet. She always seems happy just to make conversation with Cady. She's always interested to hear Cady's Kenya stories. Nobody else in America has been. Except for Karen, but Cady knows she doesn't really understand what she's talking about. Janis tells Cady her own stories, and Cady likes to think they're becoming friends. 

She certainly hopes they are, anyway. 

Janis looks at her in confusion as she stands up towards the end of their session one Saturday, rooting through her closet for something to wear. "You going somewhere?" 

"Hm?" Cady hums, turning around with a short skirt and a tank top in her hands. She grabs a denim jacket, too. It's chilly today, but Regina threatened to burn all her jeans if she wore them in public one more time. "Oh, I'm going homecoming shopping with Regina and Gretchen and Karen after this. It always takes me forever to figure out what to wear." 

"Oh," Janis says. "Sounds fun."

"Yeah, shopping with them usually is," Cady says. "I mean, I always get totally overwhelmed and all the fabrics feel awful, but I like the process." 

"That's about how it goes," Janis chuckles. "I always hated polyester too." 

"It's the worst! It's never comfy," Cady pouts. "But it's all they say I look good in." 

"You look good in anything." 

"Thanks," Cady says with a smile. Janis won't look at her, for whatever reason. Cady shrugs and heads to the restroom to get changed. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Janis says, her voice a bit squeaky. She must be having a weird day. 

Cady does have to admit that her friends have good taste. As uncomfortable as the clothes are when she puts them on, she does look pretty in them. Regina's taught her that shorter skirts will make her legs look longer and more proportional to the rest of her body. Tighter shirts make her look thinner, and layers are an extra bonus. She tucks the shirt in to highlight her waistline, and sucks her tummy in the slightest bit to zip up her skirt. 

Maybe one of these days she'll recognize herself when she looks in the mirror wearing these clothes. 

Cady heads back into her bedroom after giving her curls a quick fluff. "How's it going?" 

"Fine," Janis murmurs. Cady turns around to look at her and finds Janis staring quite interestedly at her math work. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Janis says, barely glancing at Cady. "You look nice."

"Thanks," Cady grins. She swipes on some quick makeup while Janis finishes working, then plops down next to her to look over it. "All right again! I think we can move on next time."

"Thank god," Janis sighs, going totally boneless in her beanbag. "If I had to do one more of those I think my brain would melt out my ears." 

"I mean, you'll probably have to at some point," Cady says. "You do have that test next week."

"Shh. Let me have this moment of peace."

"Okay," Cady giggles. She relaxes on her own beanbag, looking up at her ceiling like Janis is doing next to her. Maybe she should get fairy lights like Regina has on hers. 

"Do you have a date?" Janis murmurs after a couple minutes. 

"Huh?" 

"For homecoming. Are you going with anyone?" 

"Oh," Cady says. "Nobody's asked me. I think we're just going, like, as a friend group."

"That's cool," Janis nods. "It's usually more fun that way." 

"Do you have a date?" Cady asks, looking over at her. 

"Yeah," Janis chuckles. Cady feels her heart squeeze a bit, but she can't figure out why. "Damian and I always go together. Every dance since ninth grade. He always drags me with him. I guess he just wants me to, like... get the 'proper high school experience' or whatever." 

"You don't want to go?" Cady asks sadly. 

"It's not the same for me as it is for you," Janis says quietly. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You're popular. You have a friend group," Janis says. "Everyone at school knows who you are, for a good reason. Everyone at school knows who I am for a bad reason. It's not that I don't want to go, or that he's not a good date, but... I only go with Damian because he's the only option I have. I don't have any other friends I can go with, or... an actual date I could ask." 

"Oh," Cady says. "I'm sorry." 

"It's fine," Janis says. "Damian always makes it fun. I'll have a good time. Don't worry."

"You could come with us, I'm sure," Cady offers. Janis laughs outright at that. Why is that funny? 

"Really not an option," she chuckles sardonically. "But thanks for the offer." 

"Why not?"

"I'm sure Regina's already given you some version of what happened," Janis says softly. "Just... not possible." 

Cady gets the sense that she shouldn't push here, so she just nods sadly. Janis gives her a sad smile in return and gently takes her hand. 

"I promise I'll have fun even if I can't go with you. For your sake, I'll have fun," she promises. Cady giggles and squeezes her hand. 

"I'm holding you to that, Sarkisian." 

"I always keep my promises."

"Good," Cady grins. "Can I ask you something?"

"Maybe," Janis chuckles. 

"Is Damian, um..." Cady says, pausing awkwardly. "Gay?" 

Janis laughs again, much harder this time. "Yes. He's almost too gay to function. You really couldn't tell?" 

"I mean, kinda, but I don't like assuming things," Cady says in embarrassment. She decides to leave out the part about her friends telling her a good bit of Janis and Damian's life story within a few days of meeting them. Something tells her that wouldn't go over very well. Janis nods. 

"That's good, though. And for future reference, Damian is very very gay. But if you want to know about anyone else you should probably ask them directly. It's... the kind of story someone should only tell for themselves, you know?" 

Cady nods eagerly. "Got it." 

"Tits. I'll see you Monday," Janis grins, zipping her backpack shut and standing up. 

Cady's sad she has to go. She wonders what kinds of things Janis would pick to wear to homecoming. Wonders what going shopping with her would be like. 

"Bye. Have a good weekend," Cady says before she can beg her to stay. Janis waves and is out Cady's bedroom door. Cady waves back and heads over to the mirror to make sure her makeup is perfect. Regina said that if even a single eyelash is out of place it ruins the image of their whole group. 

With another coat of mascara she thinks she looks perfect enough for even Regina's standards. She rushes out, trying not to break an ankle on her ridiculously high heels, when she hears Regina laying on the horn outside. She's lucky her neighbors haven't filed a complaint yet. 

"Hi," she says breathlessly as she takes her usual spot in the backseat. 

"Hey," all three of her friends say at the same time. 

"Are you excited, Cady?" Gretchen asks. Cady nods.

"Yeah! I never really wore dresses until I met you guys, I'm excited to get something more... snazzy. I've never had much reason to dress up super fancy before," she says. 

"It's so fun, you'll love homecoming shopping," Karen says. 

"Shopping with you guys is always fun," Cady grins. "I hope I find something."

"Oh, you will," Regina chuckles, almost ominously. 

—-

Cady was expecting to go to the mall again, but apparently dress shopping at the mall is a total fashion faux pas. She looks around at the fancy dress store she's found herself in. They have everything from homecoming dresses to wedding dresses, and most of them seem very far out of her budget. 

Her friends head over to the racks of homecoming outfits in their sizes and start grabbing just about everything they can see. Cady is confused by the tulle tornadoes rushing around her, but she shrugs and follows suit as best she can. 

Once they all have a decent stack of potential dresses, they make their way over towards the changing rooms. One of the stacks of dresses asks, "Who goes first?" 

"Me," another responds, so the other three all waddle over to the benches and plop down. Cady looks to either side now that the dresses aren't covering their faces and sees Karen is the one missing.

They all wait until the curtain opens and Karen comes back out, clad in a bright pink two piece dress. The top has a sort of criss-cross hem, and the skirt falls just above her knee. 

She does a twirl so her friends can see the dress in all of its glory. They all hem and haw over it, showering her in rightfully deserved compliments. 

The process is repeated for about six more dresses, until Karen reaches the last one she grabbed. 

"Which one?" Karen asks, still wearing the last one.

"I think the first one, honestly," Gretchen says. "That one really suited you." 

"Not this one. Makes you look like a cheap slut," Regina says like that's a completely normal thing to say. "Definitely go for the first one." 

Karen nods sadly and goes back into the changing room. She returns in the original bubblegum pink dress just to make super sure this is the one she should choose. Everyone eagerly confirms it, so she changes back into her regular clothes and switches places with Gretchen. 

Cady blinks through dress after dress after dress Gretchen tries on. She compliments every one, because Gretchen does genuinely look great in all of them. 

She's more indecisive than Karen was. Cady thinks she will be too. So many choices. How are you meant to know which one is correct? 

Each of them had a favorite dress that Gretchen tried on, so she goes back to try those three on again. When she has the last one on, she whines an, "I just don't know!" 

"We could all wear pink dresses," Karen offers. "Crown emoji. Then we're, like, matching, but not matching enough to be totally cringe, teeth emoji." 

Was that English?  Cady asks herself desperately as Regina and Gretchen mull that over. Cady decides to pipe up with a, "The pink one did really suit you, Gretchen."

"Really?" Gretchen asks. "It didn't make my stomach too noticeable?"

That's an issue?  Cady wonders. "I didn't think so." 

Gretchen shoots her a thankful smile and goes to try that one yet again. Her friends all nod when she pulls the curtain open and steps out to reveal the tight watermelon pink dress. It has long tulle sleeves, which seems to make Gretchen a bit more comfortable in it as well. 

"You look really pretty, Gretchen," Regina says. Cady and Karen nod in agreement. Gretchen sighs with a smile, the relief visible on her face as her turn is up. "My turn, bitches." 

Cady finds herself bracing as Regina takes her pile of dresses, wondering what circle of hell she's in for now. Regina is always the most demanding when they go shopping. She almost never picks her clothes herself. She leaves that for her lackeys, demanding a certain fashion and quality, and compliments on top of everything. 

Cady's definitely glad she made an exception today. Regina picked all her own dresses to try, so they just get to experience the hurricane of lace and satin they're about to be forced into. 

Hurricane is an understatement. Regina looks fantastic in everything, because of course she does. They quickly run out of compliments to shower her in. Things turn to, "Ooh!" or "Wow!" rather quickly. 

Cady feels like she's woken up from some kind of homecoming coma by the time Regina has tried on the last dress. She shakes her head to clear it when Regina sighs, "So which one?" 

"Uh... that one looks great," Cady says. 

"Yeah, your waist looks, like, so tiny!" Gretchen says eagerly. Karen just nods along like a little bobblehead. 

"Really?" Regina asks haughtily, whipping her blonde hair around to find a mirror. She puts her hands on her hips and does various poses in her fuchsia bodycon dress. 

"The, um... color really brings out your eyes," Cady agrees, trying to sound like she knows what she's talking about. Gretchen and Karen both nod again. "And your... hair." 

Regina looks at the mirror with a thoughtful pout on her face. "Eh, as long as guys are staring at me."

Oh, definitely, Cady thinks to herself. It's oddly reminiscent of the time she watched a snake eat a cow. The snake has more sequins than the one in Kenya did, though. Wait, is that rude?

"Your turn, Cades," Regina says with a wink. She heads to change back into her (arguably fancier) normal clothes, so Cady gathers her mound of dresses. 

"I don't have many pink ones," Cady says anxiously. Gretchen and Karen both take the ones that aren't at least pink-adjacent and give her the ones they have, since they're all close enough to the same size to get away with it. Cady is significantly shorter than the rest of them, but she thinks she'll be able to pull it off with a bit of tailoring if she needs to. 

The first dress she tries is awful. The material is glittery, and it has long sleeves. So itchy. It's so tight Cady can't even reach far enough behind her to zip it up all the way. She settles for zipping it as much as she can and just holding the neckline at the top for the same effect. 

"It's nice!" her friends say when she kicks the curtain open enough to wiggle through and show them. 

"It's really uncomfortable," Cady says, wiggling in a ditch attempt to get the itchy fabric off her skin. 

"Pick a different one, then. Can't have you squirming like you're about to piss yourself the whole night," Regina sighs, waving her back into the changing room. 

Cady can't quite hide how relieved she is as she turns around and practically rips the dress off her body. She stands there in her underwear for a split second to recover from the awful fabric before she grabs the next dress. 

The next few go about the same way, made of too-tight uncomfortable materials that Cady can hardly bear having on her body. Pink is also a tricky color for her to wear with her hair and complexion, so some of the shades simply don't suit her. All this makes for an... interesting homecoming dress shopping experience, to say the very least. 

She's down to the last four or so and getting more and more worried. What if she can't find anything? What will Regina do to her?

The next one she tries on is a tight strappy contraption and turns out to be so complicated that Cady gets tangled in the wrong parts of it for a solid three minutes. She takes it off without even showing her friends and places it firmly in the no pile. 

But the next one has promise.

She can get into it herself, which is a plus. She can even do the zipper up all the way. It's not saying much, since there's not much zipper in the first place, but it definitely helps. 

"This one, I don't even need to see the rest," Regina says when Cady pulls the curtain open to show it off. 

"Really?" Cady grins. All three of them nod eagerly and practically shove her over to the mirror so she can see for herself. Cady looks at herself, spinning from side to side to observe the dress from all angles. She does look beautiful. 

It's a baby pink, one that actually brings out the red of her hair in a nice way, with small gold sequins scattered around. The bodice is tight and dips into her cleavage in a way she's not the most comfortable with, but she decides she's into it. Her back is almost totally bare, so she'll have to figure something out in terms of a bra that won't show, but that's manageable. The skirt flares out and falls to just above her knee. She shakes her hips the slightest bit, and the swish factor is excellent. 

"I like it," Cady nods. "Are we done?" 

"No, it's time for shoes!" Gretchen squeals. 

Ah, hell.

—————

Aaron turns to look at her when she takes her seat behind him on Monday. "Hey."

"Hey," Cady grins. "How was your weekend?" 

"Not bad, not bad. My dad made me spend most of it at a football workshop thing, but it was less tedious than most of them are," Aaron replies. "How about you?"

"Oh, mine was pretty good too. I didn't really do much," Cady says, trying to find an appropriate amount of time to stare into his eyes. So shiny. 

"Uneventful weekends are always the best," Aaron says. Cady giggles and nods. 

"Definitely." 

Aaron chuckles as well. Cady can't help but smile at the sound. "So are you going to homecoming?"

"Yeah, Regina and Gretchen and Karen and I are all going together. Just, like, as friends," Cady says. "Are you?" Please say no, please say no. 

"Yeah," Aaron nods, flipping his swoopy hair out of his eyes. Cady tries not to swoon. "Couple buddies of mine couldn't land any dates, so we're just going as a group too." 

"That's cool," Cady says, squealing internally. He doesn't have a date. "I hope I see you."

"I'll save you a dance if you save one for me," Aaron says with a wink. Cady flushes bright pink and nods eagerly. 

"I will."

"Cool," Aaron grins. Cady tries to stop blushing enough to grin back. 

"Cool," she squeaks.

—————

Janis and Cady agree to push their weekly tutoring session back a week. They've decided to spend twice as long the next Saturday working to make up for it. 

Which means Cady has all day on Saturday to get ready for the dance. 

The dance starts at eight, but Cady's been instructed to be at Regina's house by eleven in the morning at the absolute latest. Apparently getting hot is an all day affair. 

Cady's knocking on the door at 10:45 just to be safe. Mrs. George pulls it open and practically drags Cady along with it. Cady stumbles into the house and gives Mrs. George her usual hug. "I like your tracksuit today, Mrs. Sabrina." 

"You do? Oh, thank you, honey! You're just the sweetest thing," Mrs. George replies. Cady's heart breaks the slightest bit at her eager response to a pretty basic compliment. "Well, I won't keep you too long. Regina's in her room getting everything set up for you guys."

"Thanks," Cady says, lugging her garment bag up the stairs and knocking on Regina's door. 

"What?!" a voice yells from inside. "Kylie, I swear to god!"

"It's Cady!" Cady calls back. 

"Oh," the voice says, quieter. The door opens in front of her, revealing a clearly tense Regina. "You don't have to knock, you know."

"Sorry. I didn't want to, like, barge in or anything. I didn't know if you were getting dressed or something," Cady says sheepishly. 

"Not like it matters. Not like you're some kind of lesbo," Regina shrugs. "Anyway, are you hungry? You should eat now so you won't later and look all bloated in your dress." 

"Oh, um... I guess I could go for some breakfast," Cady says, trying to seem casual about it. She actually hasn't eaten yet, so she's starving. But seeming too interested in eating isn't a good look. "If it's not too much trouble." 

"Yeah, whatever," Regina says. Cady winces as she suddenly shrieks at the top of her lungs. "Mommy!" 

Mrs. George is at the door in record time, slamming it open and stumbling into the room. "What's the matter? Ear piercing incident? Herpes?" 

What kind of family is this? Cady thinks desperately. Regina turns and looks at her mother with that sickly sweet grin Cady has gotten very used to being on the receiving end of. 

"Is there any breakfast left? Cady needs some," Regina coos. Her voice is almost unnaturally high, like she's talking to a young baby and not... her own mother. 

"Oh, of course! Let me whip something up really quick, I'll be right back!" 

"Thank you!" Cady calls as she goes running from the room at the same speed. "So... why do we have to be here so early?" 

"Because we need time to wash and style your hair, do all the skincare we need, do makeup, and last minute touch ups and hemming to our dresses, duh," Regina says. 

"Oh. I didn't think it was that involved," Cady says anxiously. 

"It takes work to look this good, Cady," Regina says. "If we aren't the hottest bitches at the dance, do you have any idea what would happen?" 

We wouldn't be the hottest bitches at the dance, Cady thinks immediately. Out loud, she just says, "Oh." 

"Once Gretch and K get here we can get started," Regina sighs, already primping in the mirror. She already has makeup on, even though her bed hasn't even been made yet. Cady wonders if anyone has ever actually seen her without makeup. "Lazy bitches."

"I'm sure they'll be here soon," Cady replies, almost defensively. 

"They'd better be," Regina huffs. "Where is my mom-"

"I can wait!" Cady interrupts as she sees Regina prepare to shout again. "It's totally fine. I, uh... have a quick metabolism. I shouldn't look too bloated in the dress." 

"I have a spare corset if you need one," Regina says. 

"We'll see," Cady replies. 

—-

Gretchen and Karen arrive about fifteen minutes later, rapidly trailed into the room by Mrs. George returning with Cady's plate. French toast and some mixed fruit.

"Thank you, Mrs. George," Cady says. 

"Oh, of course, honey! If you girls need anything you just let me know, okay?" 

"Okay, Mommy, out!" Regina says desperately. Mrs. George's face falls the slightest bit before she nods and backs out of the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Cady eats her breakfast while Regina starts washing Gretchen and Karen's hair in her shower. Karen comes out first, a shower cap over her hair and some green goop on her face. Gretchen follows after another few minutes, just as Cady is swallowing her last strawberry. 

"So have you seen any guys you think are cute, Cady?" is how Gretchen chooses to open a conversation. 

"What? Uh..." Cady stutters. "There's this guy in my calculus class, he's really cute. Aaron Samuels?" 

Gretchen makes some sort of squawking noise oddly reminiscent of some of the birds Cady got acquainted with in Kenya. "What?! No!"

"What do you mean?"

"Aaron is Regina's ex-boyfriend!" Gretchen says in shock. No. No, no, no! "He just broke up with her this summer."

"I thought she dumped him for Shane Oman," Karen pipes up absentmindedly. Cady feels her core go cold just at the mention of his name. Great taste, there, Regina. 

"Irregardless," Gretchen huffs. "Exes are off limits to friends. That's just, like, the rules of feminism!" 

"Um... okay," Cady says in confusion. No more talking about Aaron in public, got it. 

"Oh, but don't worry. I'll never tell Regina what you said," Gretchen says. "I'm great at keeping secrets. Like, Karen and I are dating and we haven't told anyone!"

"Gretchen!" Karen yelps. Cady's eyes go wide as Gretchen claps her hands over her mouth. 

"Hey, it's okay," Cady soothes as Gretchen's eyes well with tears. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. Secret for a secret. I'm happy for you guys." 

"Really?" Gretchen asks, her voice wobbling. 

"Yeah, of course. I wouldn't do anything like that," Cady promises. "Your secret is safe with me." 

"Thank you," Karen murmurs as she pulls Gretchen into a hug to comfort her, carefully, so the stuff on their faces doesn't smear. 

"Cady! Come on, your turn!" Regina yells from the bathroom. Cady hops up and runs in, leaving Gretchen and Karen to have a moment to themselves. "Bend over."

"Huh?" 

"Did I stutter? Bend over. We gotta wash your hair," Regina huffs. 

"Oh," Cady says. She takes her hair out of the ponytail she had it in and shakes out her curls before she bends over Regina's very nice bathtub. Regina sets the water on and makes sure it's warm, checking it with her hand before she turns it on Cady and starts hosing her down. Cady flinches as the water hits her scalp and starts running down her auburn hair. "Ack." 

"Sorry," Regina says, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Your hair is really soft."

"Thanks," Cady says. "It smells nice in here." 

"My shampoo," Regina replies. That explains it. 

Regina massages some into Cady's roots and leaves it for a few minutes before rinsing it out, once again with absolutely no warning. She follows it with something in a tub Cady can't read from this angle, raking it through the ends and harshly ripping apart a few tangles. Cady winces and tries not to say anything at the tearing sound of her hair or the harsh pulling at her scalp. Beauty is pain. 

Regina is quick if she's anything. Cady can't have been in for more than two minutes before Regina is twisting her hair around itself, clipping it to the top of her head, and covering the lot in a shower cap. "Hair mask. Holds in the moisture." 

"Cool," Cady says. Regina snorts. 

"Sure. Alright, over here," she says, beckoning her to the sink. Cady looks in the very well-lit mirror and carefully adjusts the shower cap on her head. "Avocado or melon?"

"Hm? Um... melon, I guess," Cady says, thinking she's talking about a snack. She jumps as Regina approaches her face with some pink goop on a silicone brush. 

"What? It's just a face mask, it's not gonna bite you," Regina huffs. 

"Oh," Cady says. "Sorry, I've just never done one before." 

"Oh yeah," Regina says. "It'll make your skin softer. Makeup will go on smoother, blah blah blah. It's an important step. Now don't talk."

Cady listens, shutting her mouth firmly and allowing Regina to brush it over her face. She shuts her eyes when prompted and feels Regina brush more onto her forehead. 

"Okay, you're set. Tell Karen to come do me," Regina says, rinsing the brush off under the tap and screwing the lid back on the face mask. 

"Okay," Cady nods. She heads back out to the bedroom. Gretchen and Karen practically leap apart and put a sensible amount of distance between them. "Sorry, just me. Oh, and Regina wants you to help with her hair and stuff, Karen." 

Gretchen looked like she was about to stand when Cady mentioned Regina wanting someone, and her face falls when she says Karen's name. Karen just shrugs and heads into the bathroom, so Cady takes her spot sitting on Regina's bed. 

"Did Regina seem mad at me?" Gretchen asks as soon as Cady hits the mattress. "I'm always the one who does her hair."

"I don't think so. She's probably just stressed about today," Cady says, trying to comfort her. "I mean, you haven't done anything to upset her. I don't see why she'd be mad at you." 

"It's always something I miss," Gretchen says anxiously. "I'll just buy her something nice."

"I really don't think you have to. And you shouldn't have to, she's your friend," Cady says sadly. "Just try not to worry about it, tonight should be fun." 

"Okay," Gretchen says, her voice a mere squeak. "Yeah, okay." 

Cady gently squeezes her shoulder. "I got your back either way. I'll talk to her if she is mad, you don't have to worry." 

"Thanks, Cady," Gretchen says with a smile. 

"Of course." 

They both jump when Regina slams the bathroom door open and comes strutting out to the bedroom. Karen follows rapidly, returning to her perch on the bed. 

They all jump yet again when Regina's mother suddenly slams the other door open, rushing in with a pink book in one hand and a cocktail in the other. It's eleven thirty in the morning. 

"Regina, baby, before I forget! Look at what I found in the back of your closet the other day," she squeals, doing a weird mix between a dance and a walk over to her daughter. 

"Why were you in my closet?" Regina demands. 

"I was just admiring your dress," her mother says. "Keeps me young. Anyway, I found your... Burn Book!" 

"No way!" Gretchen and Karen squeal. They both rush up to gently take the book from her hand and start flipping through it. 

"Oh, Cady, this was just the funniest thing they did a few ye-"

"Out, Mom!" Regina insists, pointing to the door.

"You got it, baby! Have fun, let me know if you-" Mrs. George says as she scurries back to the door. Regina glares at her, so she jumps straight to a, "Bye." and shuts the door behind her. 

"Cady, come look," Karen says, beckoning her over with a wave. 

"We cut out people's pictures from the yearbook and wrote in comments," Gretchen says. They flip to the first page. "Trang Pak is a grotsky little beeyotch."

Cady's met Trang Pak. They have history class together and she's on the junior varsity cheer squad. She doesn't know what grotsky or beeyotch mean, but it doesn't sound like anything good. Cady frowns. Trang doesn't speak all that much English, but she's really nice. 

"Still true," Regina titters as she's doing something to her eyebrows at her vanity. Gretchen flips to the next page. 

"Dawn Schweitzer is a fat virgin."

"Still half true." 

Cady knows Dawn, too. Dawn is one of her bases in cheer, and she's always nice to her. She's frowning and thinking so hard she almost misses them reading the next page. "Janis Sarkisian, space dyke. Oh my god, I forgot about that!" 

Almost. 

Cady feels her heart skip a beat. What does that mean? 

"Who's that?" Karen asks, pointing to the page. Cady takes the excuse to peek over their shoulders at the photo. 

It's Janis a few years younger, maybe a freshman. Her hair is much blonder, less of the roots having grown in. She's also wearing what Cady recognizes as her infamous army jacket. Janis said she had been working on painting it for a few years, and she can see it as a work in progress in the photo. She has her arm around Damian, smiling at the camera, but Janis' eyes are... empty, almost. 

"That's that kid Damian, remember?" Gretchen says. "He's one of Cady's bases." 

"Yeah, he's almost too gay to function," Cady laughs affectionately, quoting what Janis told her a few weeks ago. She loves Damian. 

Regina whirls around in her chair. "That's really funny." 

"Oh, I didn't mean that in a bad way, I-"

"No, put that in," Gretchen insists, handing over the book. Regina passes her a Sharpie, so Cady hesitantly scrawls the comment with an arrow pointing to Damian. "Oh, and put in that stuff about Ms. Norbury, too! I'll get her picture. The Book is great for venting."

"Karen, we should rinse you out now," Regina says. Karen scrambles to her feet with a nod and runs to the bathroom while Gretchen cuts Ms. Norbury's photo out of the yearbook. 

The moment is over, but Cady stares at the drying ink in the book. She tries not to think too hard about what she's done as she closes it and rests it on the velvet seat at the foot of Regina's bed. 

—-

Before Cady totally knows what's happened, her hair is rinsed and brushed and braided up and her face mask is cleaned off and she's being patted dry with cushy towels. 

"How do you want your makeup?" Regina asks as she dabs some preparatory skincare onto Cady's face.

Cady thinks for a second. Aaron dated Regina at some point. Some point recently. Maybe Regina is the kind of girl he likes. She can't be with him directly, but nothing says she can't try. "I dunno, like yours?" 

"Gotcha," Regina says. Cady braces for another whirlwind as Regina taps varying products over her cheeks and swipes blush on with itchy brushes and puts on more layers of eyeshadow than Cady thinks an average girl would apply in her lifetime. 

Within an hour, she's done, and her spot is vacated to make room for Karen. Gretchen gasps when she gets a good look at her in full glamorous makeup for the first time. "Oh, Cady, you look so pretty!"

"Thanks," Cady smiles. "Is it supposed to itch this much?" 

"Yeah, just don't scratch," Gretchen chuckles. "Look." 

She grabs a handheld mirror from Regina's vanity and holds it out so Cady can check herself out without being in anyone's way. Cady takes it and turns her head from side to side to see herself. 

It's almost reminiscent of her cheerleading makeup, with less blue and other bright colors. Her eyeshadow is gold to match the sequins on her dress. It's packed on so thick Cady can't really open her eyes all the way, which apparently makes her look sexier. Somehow. 

Again, her freckles are totally covered, packed away beneath a thick layer of foundation. Light bronzer makes her look less dead, and blush gives her cheeks an admittedly adorable rosiness. The lipstick is natural looking, which Cady is thankful for. Her lips but better, as Regina explained. 

Her look is very similar to all three of her friends', which Cady supposes really solidifies their whole group motif situation. They look nice, even if they all do look like clones of each other. 

Regina is more okay with her mother taking pictures of them this time. Cady thinks she understands the point of dances now that she's all decked out in her fancy makeup and pretty dress. 

"Look at those fly bitches!" Mrs. George coos as she snaps an unfathomable amount of pictures in just a few seconds. "Oh, you girls look so beautiful!" 

"Thanks, Mrs. George," Gretchen, Karen and Cady all say. Regina just smiles the slightest bit wider in response. 

"Just one more!" Mrs. George says. "Okay, I'll let you go. Cady, honey, do your parents have Facebook? Instagram? Marco Polo?" 

"Uh... I don't think so. But I can give you their phone numbers," Cady replies. 

"That'll work," Mrs. George nods eagerly. She hands over her sequined-cased phone that's almost too big for Cady to hold and lets her enter her parents' numbers. "I'll get those sent off. You girls have fun! And remember to use protection!"

"Mom!" Regina groans. "Bye!"

"Bye!"

"We got a limo?" Cady asks in awe as Regina pulls open the door to the fancy vehicle. 

"You picked the right lunch table, Cady," Regina smirks. 

————-

"Whoa," Cady says when they step into the school. The theme for homecoming this year is loosely based on a casino. One of the PTA parents is working a 'bar' and serving up alcohol free cocktails, with others working blackjack tables and other 'gambling' events. 

"Good evening, ladies, would you care for some gambling money?" Principal Duvall greets, offering little goody bags of Monopoly money and poker chips so they can participate in the events. 

"No, thanks," Regina hums haughtily before any of the others can speak up. They walk further in, making their way to the gym where the main dance is set up. "I'll never understand why they come up with those bullshit themes. People are here to dance and find people to hook up with, not for a cheap impersonation of Vegas." 

"Yeah," Gretchen scoffs. She listens for a second before she squeals, "Oh my god, it's our song!" 

Someone grabs Cady's hand and hauls her towards the dance floor, so Cady runs along so she doesn't roll an ankle on these absurdly high heels.

She's surprised to see Regina dancing too. Regina said she only dances to slow songs so she doesn't sweat. Maybe one song is okay for her. 

Cady doesn't know how she should dance. She danced to the music the people in the villages played in Kenya, or whatever her parents managed to get their hands on in terms of CD's. But the only people around for hundreds of miles back then were her parents and a few isolated villagers, and they're much less judgmental than American high schoolers. 

She tries her best to follow along with her friends' movements. Before she knows it, the song is done. She's slightly out of breath, but she's having fun. 

"Alright, I'm gonna go sit down," Regina says. "Later, bitches." 

"I'm gonna go too, but I'll find you guys in a minute, okay?" Cady asks. 

"Yeah, of course!" Karen says. "Have fun."

"You too! You guys deserve it," Cady says. "I'll be back."

Cady goes to lean against the nearby wall and people watch. For the budget they have, the school is remarkably well decorated. Lots of red streamers and gold confetti scattered around. Cady takes a moment to breathe and try to get used to the thumping bass and blaring music playing through the loudspeakers. The lights are both too dark and too bright at the same time, and Cady's already totally overwhelmed by it all. And her feet already hurt in her shoes.

She screams the slightest bit when someone slides up next to her with a, "Hey."

"Aah! Oh, Aaron! Hi!" she says. "You look so nice!" Hold me 'til the pain goes away, pleasepleaseplease. 

"You do too. This dress looks amazing on you," Aaron replies, looking Cady up and down with a small smile. 

"Thank you," Cady replies. "How are your friends?"

"I dunno, they all abandoned me as soon as we got here," Aaron says, leaning against the wall next to her with a small but adorable pout. 

"That's rude," Cady frowns. "They shouldn't just ditch you like that."

"Nah, they're fine. I get to do my own thing this way," Aaron shrugs. "Like come talk to you." 

"Then I'm glad they ditched you," Cady grins, turning her head to look at him. "God, these shoes are the worst!" 

"They look painful," Aaron acknowledges with a grimace. "I thought you looked taller."

"Four inches taller," Cady grumbles, rubbing the ball of her sore foot. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I never understood why girls wear those," Aaron says with a shake of his head. "Probably best to keep them on, though, god knows what's gonna be on this floor tonight."

"Ew," Cady whimpers. "Thanks for the tip, though."

"Anytime," Aaron chuckles. "Hey, uh... do you wanna dance?" he asks, offering her a hand. Cady grins and smooths down the skirt of her dress before she takes it.

"I would love to." 

Aaron leads her out to the dance floor. Cady wishes she'd had the foresight to request a slow song, but she'll take the upbeat poppy one playing if it means she gets to dance with the boy of her dreams. 

Dancing is a bit of a loose descriptor. They're actually just jumping up and down to the beat of the song, or as close to it as they can be fussed to get. Their hands are still linked, and Cady boldly shifts to twine their fingers together. Aaron pulls her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles, making Cady blush furiously beneath her wide smile. 

They both deflate a bit when the song ends, pausing their dancing and looking at each other. 

"Can I tell you something?" Cady murmurs. 

"Yeah, of course. Anything," Aaron replies gently. "What is it?" 

"I really-"

"What?!" Aaron yells as another song picks up. Cady sighs. Maybe now isn't the right time. 

"Never mind," she says. "I'm gonna go get a drink, do you want anything?"

"Nah, thanks. I'll be here!" Aaron says, starting to dance like a madman once again. Cady giggles at his antics and heads over to the drinks table. 

"I wouldn't drink that," a voice says as she pours herself a cup of punch. Cady whirls around in shock, and smiles when she sees Janis. "Already been spiked. Stick with water if you don't want a wilder night than I think you're expecting." 

"Thanks," Cady replies with a grateful smile, leaving the cup on the table for someone who wants a buzz to take. Janis nods, but when Cady looks up after pouring herself some water, she's gone. 

She finds out why when Regina is there instead. "Why were you talking to her?" 

"I wasn't, she was here when I got here," Cady says. "I think she spiked the punch with something."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Regina hums, leaning casually against the bleachers. "She's probably planning some big lesbian orgy and trying to get everyone drunk."

"Probably," Cady agrees. It never gets easier, talking about one of the only decent people she knows like that.

"So how're things going with Aaron? I saw you two talking earlier," Regina says, a glint of something in her eye. 

"You're not mad?" Cady asks sheepishly. "I know you... I mean, uh... that he just broke up with you. That must've been hard." 

"Oh my god, of course I'm not mad," Regina says, seeming aghast at the mere suggestion. "I'm, like, totally over him. If you want... I could talk to him for you." 

"You'd do that?" Cady asks. 

"Of course! We're friends, aren't we?" 

"Thank you so much, Regina," Cady says, sagging in relief. "Just don't say anything totally embarrassing, please?"

"I gotcha. I'll go right now," Regina hums, pushing off the wall and strutting in Aaron's direction. Cady hastily pours herself another cup of water and chugs it all in one go. 

She tries not to make it too obvious that she's watching them, not wanting to seem like a total creeper. She does give a small, shy wave when both Aaron and Regina look in her direction, but beyond that she doesn't risk anything beyond an occasional glance. 

Cady is confused when they seem to be getting closer together every time she looks their way. 

Her worst fears are realized when she looks up and sees they're no longer there. She looks around the gym, trying to see where they've gone, and finds them on the dance floor. Regina is practically wrapped around Aaron, her arms linked behind his neck and his hands dangerously low on her hips. Regina meets Cady's eyes, a mocking, knowing look in her own before she pulls Aaron down for a kiss. 

Cady blinks back tears that threaten to spill and turns around, dropping her cup behind her. The water splashes onto her shoes, but she doesn't care. All she can think about is getting out. 

She runs out of the gym and out of the building, ending up on a small staircase that's meant to be a fire escape. She leans against the railing and breaks down. 

She should've known. Regina would have never volunteered to do something like that for her without expecting something in return. Without a catch. And what a catch she's gotten. 

Of course Aaron would pick Regina over her. Of course he'd pick the girl he's been with before, the one with experience, the one he knows. The pretty one, the hot one, the tall one, the... everything one. 

Cady is nothing. 

She's not sure how long she's out there, feeling the brisk wind against her bare arms and listening to the birds who have been brave enough to stick around this late into autumn. The one benefit of it being so chilly is that the sky is clearer. 

Cady looks up at it, looking at the billions of stars surrounding her. They're not as comforting, anymore. Now they just make her feel small. Even more insignificant than she already felt. 

It's not like it really matters. She can barely see them through her tears, anyway. 

She about startles out of her skin when the door opens again behind her, whirling around in shock. 

Of course it's Janis. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," she says gently. She heads up next to her, leaning on her elbows against the railing and looking up at the sky with Cady. "Nice night."

"Yeah," Cady sighs, trying to keep the tremble from her voice. 

"You okay?" Janis asks lowly. "I know we don't... know each other all that well, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just wanted to check, I guess."

"Regina... Regina took Aaron back," Cady sniffs. "She just took him back." 

Janis gasps gently, but it seems almost like that wasn't too surprising to her. "I'm sorry."

Cady doesn't know how to respond. It's not okay. Cady does care, a lot. She really likes Aaron. She is hurt. 

"It's not-not your fault," is what she settles on after a long beat. 

"Need a hug?" Janis murmurs gently. Cady nods, not even bothering to check for people who might see them before she sinks into an embrace with her... friend. She thinks she can call Janis that now. 

If she couldn't before, she definitely can after this. Janis just holds her close, gently but with the occasional squeeze. She doesn't even mention the tears and snot soaking into the shoulder of her very nice blazer. Janis seems totally unbothered by it. Content just to let Cady do what she needs to do. 

"Sorry," Cady sniffles when she pulls back. "I dunno where that came from. I'll get that dry cleaned for you."

"S'alright," Janis shrugs. "Don't worry about it. Hey, um... Damian and I were gonna ditch early and go get waffles, would you... maybe wanna come?" 

That sounds amazing, getting away from the too-loud music and lights that hurt her head. And away from her, most of all. But... 

"I can't," Cady says apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'd really like to, I just... can't... let her win. I can't let her ruin this night for me." 

"Dangerous game," Janis chuckles lowly. Something about it makes the hair on the back of Cady's neck stand up. It's... a warning. "Well, if you're staying, we should fix your makeup."

"Shit, I didn't bring any," Cady realizes. 

"Gimme two seconds," Janis says, hauling the heavy door back open and running inside. Cady waits, getting colder and more confused by the second. 

Janis returns, as promised, with Damian and a large bag of makeup in tow. Damian coos sadly when he sees Cady's tear-stained face. He gently pulls her into a hug and gives her a squeeze before he pulls her back to observe his canvas. 

"Theatre kid," Janis explains when he pulls out some makeup wipes and gets right to work. Cady lets him gently wipe off her ruined makeup and swipe on a quick replacement look. It looks similar enough to what she started with that she doesn't think anyone will be able to tell the difference. 

"Thanks," Cady says with a sniffle. Damian holds up a mirror so she can see herself. She almost likes this look better. The foundation he used is thinner, so her freckles actually show through, and her eyeshadow compliments her eye shape more than the old makeup did. "I love it." 

"Anytime. You sure you don't wanna come with us?" Damian asks. Cady nods.

"Some other time. But you guys have fun," she replies. She jumps as Damian spritzes her with some setting spray, coughing a bit as she accidentally inhales some. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay," Cady giggles. "Thank you." 

"We gotcha," Janis says with a wink. "Knock 'em dead, Caddy." 

Cady wraps her in another hug, squeezing her so so tightly in thanks. Janis squeezes her back before she turns her around and sends her back into the gym with a pat to her shoulder. 

Cady heads right back to the drinks table and grabs yet another cup of water. She chugs it, making extra sure not to smudge the very nice lipstick Damian applied. 

Cady feels better once the ice cold water is settled in her stomach. She walks over to Gretchen and Karen, who are taking a break from the dancing to sit on the bleachers and people watch. "Hey!" 

"Hey!" they reply, beckoning her over to sit with them. 

"I saw Regina with Aaron," Gretchen says. "Are you okay?"

"Oh my god, of course!" Cady says like it's obvious. I've never been less okay in my life, Gretchen, but thanks. "She must've, like, really wanted him back if she was willing to take him like that. I'm glad they're working their stuff out. Do you guys wanna go dance?" 

"Uh... sure," Karen agrees. She seems to catch on to Cady's odd demeanor more than Gretchen does, but wisely doesn't bring it up. 

Gretchen and Karen follow her back to the dance floor. Both of them squeal when the next song comes on, some upbeat pop song both of them love but Cady doesn't recognize. She dances along anyway. 

She looks over her shoulder at Regina as she holds hands with Gretchen and Karen and dances around. Regina has a challenging look, almost a glare, in her eyes. Waiting to see Cady's response, what she'll do, what she dares to try. 

So Cady just smiles. 

To anyone else watching, it's a friend smiling at a friend. But Cady knows. Regina knows. A smile can be a threat. 

This one says you may have won the battle, but I will win the war. 

A declaration. 

May the best girl win.

————-

hope you enjoyed!!

here's the links to everyone's dresses! the colors aren't exactly what i was envisioning for most of them but the styles are so just bear that in mind :

regina: https://www.lucyinthesky.com/shop/giulia-square-neck-dress-in-pink-sequins

gretchen: https://www.lucyinthesky.com/shop/doe-power-mesh-long-sleeve-dress-in-purple

karen: https://www.elliewilde.com/ellie-wilde/fall-2020/ew22018s

cady: https://www.promgirl.com/shop/dresses/viewitem-PD2420297

have a lovely day!

[nagalias-mindscape]

My sister keeps adding scenes to my head which I need to write down or they'll plague me for all eternity. Which, unfortunately, means this one-shot I wrote is only getting longer.

One such scene is down below.

--- --- ---

"I wish you'd go back to using Spectro, and that is not a sentence I thought I'd ever say to someone. Wow, it still gets me that you can just change your attribute whenever."

"Yeah, well, I need to get used to using Havoc. It's one of my powers- I refuse to let it cripple me. I can't afford to be handicapped by my unfamiliarity with my own powers."

"Yeah, but can't you feel the damage its doing to you? That's literally the nature of Havoc- to destroy. I'm getting dizzy just watching you, and as Encore childishly put it, I use the power of zoomies to defeat my enemies. I have no idea how you're still standing straight without anything to support you."

"You do use the power of zoomies to defeat your enemies, and that's one-hundred percent unfair. You do it so effortlessly, too. I am... feeling a little dizzy, though. It's a lot of trying to keep my momentum. If I stop, that scythe gets too heavy to keep wielding, and I've discovered that spinning helps. Being physically off the ground doesn't help, either. Nor does the spontaneous wing I can't really do anything with. Did you know I can feel everything through it when it appears? It's so sensitive to the slightest movement of air through the feathers, and all that spinning I do... Yeah, I guess it can be a bit much..."

"Take it from one person who uses agility as their baseline for combat, there has got to be a better way to learn to fight with that weapon- and I can count at least five people who would be willing to help you if only you asked. Aren't you worried about overclocking?"

"All tests done- both with me aligned with Spectro and Havoc independently, and with records from before I 'awoke' Havoc- suggest I don't actually have a resonance, which was theorized to mean I can't overclock, but I've asked Yangyang- who has overclocked and thus has personal experience with it- to keep an eye on me. I've also been getting regular checkups to make sure there's no physical issue. None have been found so far."

"I disagree. There is a physical issue- it's you coming home every day so dizzy you can't do much more than flop down in your bed and pass out. Do you realize how much of a struggle it's been to get you to eat and drink when you come back like that? Encore's been ignoring you for a reason, you know. You're scaring the both of us, and I'm here seeing for myself what it is you've been doing."

"I know, I know... I just... What happened then-"

"Won't happen again. You were overwhelmed, overstimulated, and being attacked on all sides because the three of us rushed something we shouldn't have. Encore and I have already forgiven you for getting us caught in the crossfire of that shield thing you did. We just want you back."

"I..."

"Please? Come on, come home. Encore's missed you. I know I have."

"... You know, the Rover seems like they'd be a lonely type. No one uses their name, there's a special kind of distance between even friends, and it all just screams... lonely. The kind that lends itself to some nasty disassociation, coupled with the Rover's amnesia. You think Aalto would be that kind of person, thanks to being able to handle Encore's mentality and what appears to be her delusions, would be able to bring the Rover back around?" <- My sister, in the middle of a conversation about me being an accidental Aalto Main and our thoughts on Rover.

... it spawned a one-shot. A length one-shot, perhaps, but it spawned a fanfic. A comforty fic, where Encore ends up with an Auntie Rover and Aalto resigns himself to ending up the semi-caretaker of a rather unusual family- but one he wouldn't change for much.

I still need to edit it, but. I wrote it.

This pushed back the other chapters I have to edit and write.

[caffeinatedopossum]

Tw vent/strong feelings (?) Idk

I love you guys and I appreciate you all so much but sometimes I get a little overwhelmed with the encouragement I receive. Sometimes it doesn't make me feel better. I get a little bit angry even, which immediately makes me mad at myself because where's my restraint? And who else could possibly be blamed? I don't want to be ungrateful for the support, I know everyone means well. But sometimes I don't feel like you guys know me well enough to tell me "it gets better". If it got better for you, that's great, really. But I will never have the life most people have. And idk, maybe we are in the same boat here but it's hard for me to know that online.

For some perspective: I have ptsd from 18+ years of trauma. I can't talk to any of my family, let alone remember most of that 18 years. I don't talk to my parents but I know I see their faces in my dreams, when I wake up covered in sweat with my heart racing. I still hear their words echoed in my own thoughts, telling me I deserve none of the things I have. I was never able to see doctors and you'll guess my surprise when I finally went, for the first time as an adult and they told me I have an incurable chronic illness. Several of them actually, a few of them treatable but not curable. I will never live a long, painless life. I'll suffer joint dislocations and chronic pain and fatigue, as well as likely early onset arthritis, increased risk of organ rupture, etc. for as long as I live. I never went to school either. When the pandemic started, nothing changed for me because I've always lived like this- isolated and scared of what I might "catch" from other people.

I don't want to sound self absorbed, I'm aware there are some people who have similar lives. But it's not common in the slightest. My girlfriend is one of the only things that gives me hope still, because she's been everywhere I have and more and she *still* pushes through and smiles and helps people and dances to her favorite songs and laughs watching her favorite shows. She's still human.

I know things always change. I know things can always get better. But... I also know they can always get worse. And right now I'm at my breaking point. I can't wait for things to get better anymore, I have to DO something. And I'm sure I will, I'm sure I'll survive this and figure out ways to make my life easier and I'll be glad I fought so hard. But right now I just need to admit that I can't do everything.

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

Cornucopia | II — Castimonium II | Father Paul x Fem!Reader | English

SUMMARY | AO3 | MY MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Miriam has a weird nightmare with and strange pair of glowing eyes. Despite the consequences of the storm on her body, she decides to investigate further and discovers more than a few skeletons in the closet through the city's archives. She also receives an unexpected visit.

Chapter Title: Castimonium (/castīmōniae/; latin): abstinence; abstinence (sexual/from meat) for ritual; purity of morals; chastity.

Warnings: Slow Burn, Mentions of Past Religious Trauma, Descriptions of a Cold, Mentions of Blood, Body Horror (Slight), Blood Drinking (Slight), Gore (Slight), Sexual Tension, Main character is a workaholic, Dizziness due to poor diet (Please eat well and drink water). [These warnings are subject to change as I re-write this part].

Word Count: 8K

Note: Skin, hair and body descriptions were purposely vague, everything has been handled as vague as possible so that everything can be read as a reader fic.

Again, English isn’t my mother language, so I’m sorry for any orthography or writing mistakes you might find.

Update: I'll be re-writing this part, the whole thing. I found myself very unhappy with this chapter, to me, it really is out of tone with the others, so I'm managing to make it more in tune with the whole narrative I intend to tell. Some things will remain the same, but others will be completely remodelled, the truth is, I want to feel that this chapter really leads somewhere, and that it's not just out of place and blocking the story. That said, expect a slight increase in word count.

A/N: I know I've promised that this would be the part 2 of chapter 2 and then the smut would come, BUT, this thing became so big that I had to split it again. I mean, I'm a person of context, I need to prepare the field before the action. Sorry, but I've no self-control, please be patient. However, the end of this huge chapter it's already 95% finished, so I'll be posting part 3 soon, seriously.

This part was supposed to see the light of the day in the Ash Wednesday, but I needed to brush it up one more time. I hope you enjoy, I'm really thankful for all the support, y'all are so incredible, lots of love!

A STRANGE SENSATION covered her chest, as if she were hollow inside. There was a constant tingle at the base of her neck that crept like a snake down her back. There was also a noise passing through her ears, it was a terrifying sound, coming from all directions, confusing her senses and exerting a pressure on her.

Miriam moved her fingers the slightest bit, a bolt of pain shooting up her arms, but as she moved her fingers she realized one thing, that oppressive sound was nothing less than the noise of the wind. Opening her eyes, Miriam froze, her muscles tensing with the hazy realization of what was happening. She was falling, but never hitting the ground, just falling.

Her first reaction had been the uncontrollable urge to scream, her chest suffocating in sheer desperation. However, she couldn't, instead of a desperate cry, a searing pain shot through her throat in the form of a broken moan. Reflexively, she ran her fingertips over her neck, feeling irregularities in her skin and something slimy and warm running along the curve of her neck.

Blood.

Her blood.

She was bruised and falling, unable to do anything to stop her impending encounter with the ground below her back, a ground she didn't see, but she knew would come. The time had come for her to settle her accounts with the one who surrounded her family, with death. Silenced by an injury, she had no idea how she'd got it. Her eyes watered with fear, overwhelming terror choking her.

The sky was pitch black, there were no stars above, or moon, or clouds, just total darkness. The feeling of anguish sinking in her chest, and the thin air made it difficult to breathe. There was an agonizing tingle in her arms, she didn't feel them any more, realizing that made her notice that she didn't feel her legs either. Dormant like a corpse. Miriam uttered in her mind, silenced by despair.

Her only physical sensation was the wind that cut in a constant noise around her, and the perception of icy blood running down the side of her torn neck. Miriam could feel, she could tell she knew she was about to die, there was a feeling, something that told her. Whether it was the throbbing in her head, or the numbness of her limbs, Miriam knew, the imminence of death was coming, this time for her.

The wind noise was briefly muffled, covered by a thunderous flapping of wings. That unnatural noise unnerved a frightened shiver down the back of her neck. Her tired eyes tracked around her, wide with awe.

Darkness.

Only the blackness of the night greeted her, the empty darkness.

Then, very suddenly, something caught her. She could feel the two-armed embrace holding her, carrying her away from wherever she was falling towards. Extreme relief washed over her body. I won't die, I won't die, I won't… she thought, clinging to her saviour. The rhythmic, muffled sound continued, this time closer to her. Much closer. Her mind finally registered the information: wings. Who or what took her had wings.

As soon as it came, relief left her, panic and fear once again settling in her chest, both ripping her apart for space. There was a heated awareness, an intense heat against her, against her soft body and skin. Flame heat licked at her back, and the light from the streamers illuminated the pale face of the creature who carried her in its arms. A mouth full of sharp teeth, sharp blades that gleamed in the fire, a blood-soaked pearl, eyes as dark and cold as a shark, reflecting the light from the blazing flames and the darkness.

A demon was carrying her in its arms. Its skin was icy and rigid like a marble statue, illuminated by the dull light of the fire consuming her back. A scream of absolute horror rang out, a deep, smoky voice roared through the flames and wind, a desperate cry calling her name. An unknown name crossed her mind…

John.

There was a familiar oddity to the name, she didn't understand at that moment the reason why.

The creature's claws sank gradually into her back, but she didn't register the pain, fear, and blood loss that had numbed her senses. Miriam squirmed and struggled to free herself from the creature's firm grip, in vain, its inhuman strength too terrifying for her weak limbs.

However, the woman didn't give up, her disoriented and alarmed mind spitting out a nonsensical solution which she readily accepted. Grasping the creature's skeletal shoulders, she struggled as best she could, and bit the thing's exposed neck, hard enough that it broke through the thick skin and the bitter taste of the wine coated her tongue. In a burst, the winged gargoyle released a painful howl that deafened her, an insistent tinkle perpetuating itself in her auricles. The lacerated chunk of flesh filled the woman's lips, nerves, and muscles tightening as she pulled her bite away, a piece of the thing stuffed into her mouth, her chin, and lips smeared in blood.

The creature dug its nails even deeper into the soft flesh of the woman's back, crushing her bones in an oppressive embrace, and with a sweep of its disproportionately long arms, snatched her off of itself, hurling her toward the blazing fire.

The heat was enough that she almost felt her skin melt. The sting of the flames and the sulphurous smell of blood and ashes from the houses and the dead seeped into her nostrils. Miriam could see the ground approaching, growing, as her limp body twirled in the air aimlessly, helplessly. Until her eyes took in the city in flames, every little fishing house, every boat, and even St. Patrick's burned in hellfire…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The shrill tinkle of the alarm woke her up. The pounding of her heart pounded in her head, and the pained cry still echoed in her mind. Her thinking was confused and sleepy, and the throbbing in her head was real. Stretching out an arm, the woman lazily fumbled on the bedside table for her cell phone. When she couldn't find him, Miriam sat up in bed, her aching muscles complaining of the sudden movement. Clutching the rectangular mobile device with a trembling hand, the faint glow of the screen bothered her eyes, and she read the time.

6:05 am.

She sighed. Three days had passed since her arrival. For three days, she had been recovering from one of the worst colds she had ever had. For three days she had been having the same dream, — nightmare —, she corrected herself. A demon would carry her from the darkness towards the flames, and someone would scream for her, despair bathing the male voice, then she would wake up after seeing the entire island engulfed in fire. Miriam didn't understand the meaning of such a dream, nothing made sense. She just felt more tired, as if a supernatural weight was slowly being placed on her back.

A knock on the bedroom door caught her attention, and she looked up from the luminous screen on which she read messages to meet Erin's serene and worried gaze. The young pregnant woman with abundant curly hair waved a little at the sick woman. Her lips filled into a tight smile.

“Good morning, are you feeling better?”, she asked, entering the room that once belonged to her. Erin stared into Miriam's face with motherly concern, her dark brows drew together in an unnerved look.

Her reddened nose was almost completely blocked up, her cheeks were an unhealthy pale colour, her hair in an oily tangle, and her keen eyes were sunken with weariness and illness. Miriam looked as exhausted as the first time they'd met. The rain-soaked accountant, eyes red from a sleepless night, accompanied by the town's strange priest.

Since her arrival, Erin hadn't seen Harper stop working a single day. The first night she slept in her house, the tenant had woken up practically without a voice and had refrained from leaving the house, the wind from the outside world threatening to drain her last of her strength. On the same day Mayor Scarborough, along with Sturge and two others came to bring the City Hall files at her request for the woman to review them in the cosiness of her room until she was able to go directly to City Hall.

Since then, Erin hadn't had many visitors to her home.

“Better, but I still feel like I've been run over.”, Miriam muttered with a sleepy half-smile, her voice slightly strained due to her stuffy nose.

Erin nodded. Both had good conversations in the meantime, the newcomer's insecurity would not allow her to say they were friends, but good colleagues. Erin liked Miriam, and she cared about her safety in a way.

“Your voice is much better, I just can't say the same about your appearance, if you get sick like that on Halloween you will be successful in scaring the kids.”, Erin laughed at the dramatically exaggerated expression of outrage the sick woman gave her, and allowed herself to lean on the door.

“I'll keep that in mind.”, Harper grinned as she forced herself out of bed, she shuffled her sock-covered feet across the floor cluttered with stacks of paper files, and sat down at a table she'd improvised to work on. “With luck I can cough on Bev and maybe sick she'll stop inflaming the town hall and council people against me.”, the woman ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it out of her face. With a slightly shaking hand, she picked up a yellowed bottle of flu and took a dry pill. The pregnant woman frowned at the comment.

Erin had slightly regretted telling Miriam what had happened at the town hall meeting that had taken place the day after her arrival. The woman had felt sick to see the disgusted expression on her tenant's face when she mentioned the way Beverly Keane had talked about her. However, she was able to assuage the newcomer's displeasure by saying that the Flynn's seemed to like her and that Hassan had subtly defended her, as well as herself.

“Are you going to start work so soon? On a Sunday?”, asked the pregnant woman. Erin liked Miriam's sarcastic personality and insightful comments, but believed the woman worked too much.

“There's no rest for the wicked.”, muttered Harper in a deliberately mischievous tone. “I have discovered some very interesting things that I need to make sure of before I spread the good news.”, Miriam opened her laptop and turned it on and waited for a moment for the screen light to come on, while turning around to gather some clothes to wear in the closet.

“I wonder what could be so interesting about these piles of old paper.”, Erin looked around at the files piled all over the floor, almost making passage impossible. A few worn cardboard boxes that had not yet been opened were arranged one on top of the other by the door, the collection so tall that it exceeded the height of the expectant mother by almost eight centimetres.

“Oh, you have no idea. The records from 2003, 2004 and last year are endlessly fascinating. And if what I've discovered is indeed confirmed, I can free this island of a big, filthy tick like I'd rip it off a dog's back!”, Miriam emphasized as she closed the wardrobe door with the back of her hand.

Erin drew her brows together in curious confusion. Miriam hadn't told her what Joe Collie had told her about Bev, — she didn't even know Miriam had met him. However, there were files that clearly indicated the deficit of what had happened to the economy of Crockett Island before and after the Spill, and mainly, about the expenses of the construction of the Recreation Center. Harper was sure that when she found these records, — and she would find them —, there would be a ridiculous imbalance that would indicate the embezzlement the deaconess had so maliciously carried out.

“I hope that when you have confirmation of whatever you're looking for I'll find out who this evil 'tick' is.”, the curly haired woman's voice sounded intrigued, but she wouldn't press, her curiosity could be sated another time.

Lowering her clear eyes, she glanced at the watch on her wrist and sighed.

“I was going to ask you if you want to go to mass with me today, but you're visibly busy.”, she laughed briefly looking around. “Father Paul will be disappointed, yesterday he asked me how you were adjusting. He seems to like you.”, the suggestive tone that the pregnant woman used did not go unnoticed in the woman's ears.

Harper stopped what she was doing as if freezing and looked confused at the young woman in front of her, but she didn't show her interest in the cloth man, he had already disturbed her thoughts too much during the night.

Erin watched as Miriam skirted the sprawling monsters of paper and approached her, her arms filled with a pile of clean clothes and a towel slung over her shoulder.

“He's just being nice.”, a beat of silence passed.

Miriam decided not to push the subject, feeling her cheeks heat up at the mere mention of the man.

“And I guarantee you'll be one of the first to know the parasite's name.”, she blinked conspiratorially, moving to the side and standing shoulder to shoulder with her landlady, Harper patted her forearm affectionately. “I really appreciate the invitation. I'd love to trade all this dusty paperwork for you, but the sooner I get this done, the better. I'd give you a hug, but I don't want you and the 'little foot' to contract that shit.”, the young woman said, looking discreetly at the pregnant woman's slightly pronounced belly.

With a sweet smile, Miriam opened the bedroom door and made room for Erin to leave, following close behind.

“Fine. I'll see you in a few hours, so good luck with that 'tick'.”, laughing and making quotation marks with her hands, the curly woman walked down the stairs without haste, but stopped halfway when she heard the muffled voice of her tenant calling your name.

“I can make lunch if you want, I owe you. Is it okay if I do?”, Miriam asked in a friendly tone, also walking down the stairs. When she saw Erin nod she smiled, the woman was great company and the newcomer was happy to be able to make up for having to put up with her. “Right then. Goodbye, Erin!”, Miriam waved her free hand, finishing up the stairs and catching a glimpse of the expectant mother walking out the door.

“See you!”, the cheerful, gentle voice echoed back once she had left.

Miriam sighed wearily. She knew she had blushed when Erin had mentioned the good priest's interest in her well-being, his interest in her. A wave of heat lodged in her bones. She mentally scolded herself for letting the thought take hold. Paul wasn't interested in her, what nonsense! The man was devoted to the Seven Virtues, romance was not on the menu.

My God, what an idiot I am! Romance!? A disgusted groan escaped her lips. Harper felt foolish, not because she found him attractive, or eloquent, but because for a moment she'd almost given herself hope.

Another low sigh escaped her rosy lips, and she decided that for her own good, she would shower and drown in work until her mind carried her away from the black-haired priest.

Her eyes burned. She had already spent a few hours reviewing files on her laptop, turning some of the most important among them to digital. Erin hadn't arrived yet, at least she hadn't heard the front door slam or footsteps under the low music that played over the device's speakers. With a thrust of her hips, she dragged the wheels of her chair against the carpeted floor and stretched. So many hours of sitting weren't doing her spine any good.

Running her fingers through her freshly washed hair, she slid out of her chair and picked up the phone. Abel had sent her some messages about the records she had asked for his opinion on. She was close to discovering how much money the deaconess had laundered, she just needed to find a single file that contained the expenses of the construction in the midst of all those papers that seemed to have no end. Dropping her cell phone on the table, she crouched down on one of the piles of files she'd already rearranged herself.

For such a small place, they are terribly disorganized, she thought as she ran her careful fingers over the old sheets. Thanks to her powers of observation, — spurred on by years of financial practice —, and her patience, Miriam was much closer to the truth than she'd expected. When Mayor Scarborough arrived the previous afternoon to deliver what she had requested, Miriam was surprised at how many outdated files, they kept. Don't these people know what a computer is?, she remembered wondering.

Knowing she wouldn't find what really mattered before the 2000s, she discarded all the paperwork, trusting the files would at least be organized.

Silly assumption.

Everything was so confusing that after the initial two hours she decided to organize everything herself. So much skewed or poorly recorded information, files, and notes that shouldn't be where they were, the mess of messes!

Now that most of the paperwork was gone, Miriam could finally focus on finding the Recreation Center records. Wade had questioned why she wanted all that documentation, but she turned him off under the guise of 'doing an economic survey of the island's financial stability'. Since that way, she could supposedly make projections of the local fishing market in the near future.

Harper closed her eyes tightly as she felt a sudden dizziness as she stood up. Her vision dimmed a little, and she needed to lean against the table to keep her balance. It had been a long time since her last meal. Sometimes her mind was so sunk in work that she forgot her basic needs. Thinking about it reminded her that she still hadn't made lunch like she'd promised Erin she would. Wrapping herself in a shawl to keep warm and grabbing her laptop from the table, she left and headed downstairs. She could finish what she was doing while she prepared lunch.

Upon reaching the kitchen she placed the electronic device open on the counter and quickly searched for a rice pudding recipe, it was quick, familiar, and she could make something that didn't have seafood after all.

Miriam enjoyed the warmth of the kitchen. As cosy as Erin's house was, it was cold, and even the coffee coloured shawl draped around her shoulders didn't do much to warm her. Taking a deep breath, she started looking for the necessary ingredients.

The lunch was almost ready. The constant clatter of the knife blade against the wooden board was rhythmic, almost hypnotic. The sounds of the kitchen soothed her. The low bubbling of boiling water, the crackle of the fire, the knife cutting through the garlic and layers of onion. The smell of cooking spices and sautéing vegetables reminded her of her mother.

Lyanna was a calm and compassionate woman. Always trying to keep everything under control. When her mother Mathilde died, she removed Miriam almost immediately from St. Agnes. Out of respect, — and some fear for her mother —, she had allowed her daughter to grow up in that place, but with the matriarch's departure, Lyanna had seen the opportunity to finally start a new chapter in her life, this time with her daughter. At thirty, she was already a trained doctor, and she had an income with which she would take care of herself and Miriam. Both had a good relationship, at first it had been strange for them to live together on a daily basis, as this had only happened when Miriam was still a very small child, and those were dark times she didn't want to remember.

New memories formed for both of them, good ones this time.

The acidity of the onion she was cutting and the fond memories of her mother made her shed a few generous tears.

A muffled knock on the door pulled Miriam out of her reverie. Strange, she thought initially. Of course, Erin hadn't locked the door, and if she had, she'd have the keys. Lowering the rice heat, she washed her onion-smeared hands and wiped the moisture on an embroidered cloth, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands and heading for the door. Before she touched the handle, another knock sounded, this one slightly louder. It didn't take long for her to open it.

A pair of black-clad shoulders and a clerical collar greeted her. The recognition of who had just slammed her door made the blood drain from her face. She watched with some confusion as the man's broad smile faded. Paul's brows were knit together in confusion and his eyes were wide as if he'd just seen a ghost.

Miriam shivered a little in the icy wind outside, tightening her grip on her shawl, and embarrassed herself to imagine how dishevelled she must be.

The good priest looked at her, somewhat surprised at the state of the elegant woman he had only met two days ago. Not that he judged her to be ugly, no, she just looked so…drained.

The locks on her head were a bit messy, tied in a loose bun anyway, her eyes red from crying, the skin beneath them was purplish, slightly swollen and covered with too much apathy. Her rosy lips were discoloured and cracked, and her nose looked as red as Rudolph's.

“Jesus…”, he let out a sigh, a sudden redness faintly covering his cheeks as he realized that she had noticed his initial awkwardness.

Miriam was the picture of someone who definitely and unquestionably needed to rest.

“I look awful, I know.”, she laughed weakly, her voice twangy and slightly hoarse. Sniffling, she backed away, giving way. The sick woman chose to deflect her embarrassment with derogatory humour.

“Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend or make you uncomfortable, it's just that… I didn’t expect you to look so tired.”, Paul corrected himself, mentally berating himself for being so rude. He smoothed his hair as he watched her shake her head no.

“It's okay, it's not like I'm a Disney princess. Please come in.”, she whispered, opening the door wider for him to enter. At no time had Miriam actually looked him in the eye, her orbs pointed at the ground the entire time. Paul was confused by her apparent speech reference, but decided to ignore it.

The priest passed close to her, his perfume composed of a faint scent of wood, sandalwood, and censer myrrh incense invaded the accountant's nostrils, she had barely been able to smell it. He'd smiled slightly at the woman's comment about herself, a comforting warmth filling his chest as he saw that the newcomer's acidity was still there.

Harper's eyes studied him briefly as he entered. His stature was even more impressive when there was an environment to measure. He was carrying the same messenger bag he'd used earlier when she'd spotted him walking in the distance, however, this time he was holding a small brown paper bag in one hand.

Paul looked around, he remembered Peggy Greene's house.

Everything was a lot less messy since the last time he'd set foot in the place, he ruefully remembered a Peggy Greene in an alcoholic coma who'd departed this world delayingly on a couch, choking on her own vomit. This time, there were no empty liquor bottles strewn about every room, and the air was no longer tainted with the smell of cigarettes and spilled alcohol over the years. Now the house really felt like home.

The music playing bass on the laptop sounded like some 1950s ballad in a slower version. That little detail made the whole atmosphere cosy, the fact reminded him of his childhood. The image of his own mother and sisters cooking in what seemed now centuries ago flashed through his mind.

“Well, how can I help?”, Harper asked, closing the door with a low clatter and walking back to the kitchen with long strides. The woman felt the pulse in her auricles. Surely, of everyone she hoped might knock on her door that day, the good priest was not one of them.

Paul seemed to wake up from a sudden daydream, his large ebony eyes fixed on the huddled female figure.

“Oh, uh… Erin mentioned that you were sick… In fact, someone had already commented, I believe it was Wade…,” the priest began, a reverie as he approached the kitchen counter, where Miriam had propped herself up. “But I decided to come visit. See how you're doing, if they're treating you right. I want you to feel welcome in the parish.”, a nervous laugh escaped him.

When Paul had decided to detour from Millie's house to visit the newcomer, he hadn't imagined he'd feel this pang of anxiety, but being alone with her wasn't in the plan, well, not exactly.

“That's very kind of you.”, Miriam replied, not being able to look at him in those warm cocoa puddles. Instead, she approached the stove, uncovering a pot and stirring its contents with a wooden spoon.

“I think I can say that Erin has been great company. I like her very much. But I'm not saying that I didn't expect some hostility from some of the… islanders. After all, like it or not, I am an intruder in a tightly-knit community, primarily in its values.”, She sighed with a half-bitter, half-affected laugh, dividing her attention between the pots in front of her and the man that so often disturbed her thoughts. “Ms. Keane is a rare piece indeed,” she muttered under her breath, glancing in his direction as she tossed the chopped onion into the pan and added a little more butter to the sautéed vegetables.

“You learn to live with her.”, he murmured, wondering what Bev had told her. After so many years of living together, he had grown used to dealing with the deaconess's petulance and wiles, and as his mind drowned in darkness, he had no ability to reprimand her for certain behaviours, he wasn't even able to perceive them.

Suddenly he remembered the small package that weighed heavily in his hand.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I brought this for you.”, His deep timbre sounded a little childish as he set what he was carrying on the granite counter. “It's sweet.”, Paul smiled, pulling out a chair and sitting and watching her.

Miriam turned off the heat on the vegetables and approached him, a shy blush covering her cheeks as she thanked him and opened it.

“My mom used to give me sweets when I got sick, I loved it, so I thought you'd like it.”, The dark-haired priest curiously watched Harper remove the small blueberry cake from the slightly greasy paper and gently place it on a plate.

“Well, your mom definitely knew her stuff.”, Miriam commented, a blush heating her cheeks. She looked away from him as she absently licked the tip of her index finger that was sprinkled with the sugar that covered the muffin. “My mother used to make rice pudding and gingerbread cookies, especially when I had a cold.”, the woman smiled widely at the memory. Paul was infected by the gesture, unable to contain his own contentment. She seems to have fond memories of her mother, he noted.

Miriam looked adorable with the red that generously covered her cheekbones. A wave of inconvenient heat coursed through his body as he noticed the sinful way she sucked the icing sugar from her fingers. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the impure suggestion of the innocent gesture, the priest removed the messenger bag and placed it carefully on the counter in front of him, the scent of sautéed vegetables and butter wafting into his nostrils profusely. In an attempt to distract himself from the smouldering proximity of the woman opposite him, he got to his feet and stalked around the kitchen.

“What are you cooking? It smells amazing!”, Paul asked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets and taking a long breath, watching her with interest. The good priest mentally scolded himself as he enjoyed noticing how long her legs looked in those plaid pants.

Miriam lifted the reddish orbs off the muffin and slid the tip of her index and middle finger out of her mouth, having gratefully licked off all the sugar they contained. She looked distracted for a moment, her mind having been lost in the chilly afternoons she'd spent cooking with her mother. Harper smiled as she finally processed what he was asking.

“Oh!”, she exclaimed, remembering to turn off the heat on the rice. “Rice pudding recipe. It's not what my mother used to do, but I think it should finish off a Sunday lunch.”, Miriam replied, her still voice less whiny than it had been some time ago.

She skilfully placed the sautéed vegetables on the rice that still had some broth, covering it again, so it could cook again.

“It's a good thing it smells nice, because I don't smell or taste anything any more”, the woman laughed weakly, wrapping herself in her dark shawl, her body shaking slightly with a shiver. She leaned her hips on the counter and hugged her body, facing the floor. The heart in her chest about to explode.

“Such a pity. It looks great.”, the priest muttered with a half smile.

There was a shy silence.

The woman felt small under the priest's deep, dark-eyed gaze. For an instant she looked up and stared at him, both of them holding their gaze, with that she felt her heart skip a beat.

He was barely three feet from her, propped up on the far side of the counter with his hands in the dark pockets of his jeans, a lock of his dark hair falling stubbornly across his forehead. She fought the urge to shove it back into place. Shyly, she looked away from his sunken eyes, feeling exposed, her vision focusing disinterestedly on the red-painted aluminium pot that was cooking the rice. An idea flashed through her mind.

“Well, w-would you mind a taste? It's almost done, and I'm not sure how it tastes. Everything tastes like sawdust”, she suggested, stroking her neck awkwardly with a half smile, her fingertips playing with the white beads of the rosary. The orange and black short-sleeved blouse she wore highlighted the redness in her tearful eyes. He couldn't deny the request, she looked so embarrassed and nervous, so delicate.

“I'm not opposed to the idea at all, but have you ever eaten sawdust?”, the cloth man pretended to consider for a moment and shrugged his shoulders amiably, he smiled at the amusing comment. Miriam rolled her eyes and a faint smile played on her lips.

Both were strangely comfortable with each other's company.

Miriam wanted to beat herself up for saying something rather than sending him away, for giving him an excuse to spend some more time near her. She inhaled deeply, nodding with a tight-lipped smile. Harper thought she was only one step away from saying or doing something that sounded inappropriate, she was trying so hard not to show her improper interest in the priest that she might be sending the wrong message. Don't get your hopes up you idiot, get it fixed right away, she scolded herself.

“OK, then. Sit down, Father, I'll get you some”, she whispered, an emphasis on the sacred title, sneaking into a cupboard to grab a plate and two silverware.

Obeying, Paul realized that this was the first time since he arrived that she had referred to him by his ecclesiastical title. A flush of its own warmed his face.

Being with her in such a domestic context made him forget for a moment, just a moment, who he was. A holy man, unfit for the pettiness of worldly life. He carefully watched the woman's subtle movements as she arranged a small amount of rice on a yellow plate. She looked tense under his scrutiny, her fingers trembling as she sprinkled some thyme leaves over the food.

Being watched so curiously by the dark-haired man was disconcerting her, in fact, the whole situation caught her off guard, obviously a pleasant surprise, but having him so close to her wasn't really helping her self-control. With slightly trembling hands, she placed the plate between them, handed him a fork and kept the other for herself. Staring at each other for a moment, each took a forkful, blew on it and brought it to their mouths.

“Yeah, I don't taste anything.”, Harper declared, first looking away to a specific corner of the kitchen, putting the fork in the sink and turning to Paul. “Verdict?”, she asked.

The good priest made a deliberately exaggerated face, as if he had just eaten a forkful of earth.

“My God, is it that bad?”, the woman asked, mirroring the priest's grimace out of instinct, laughing slightly. Father Paul then laughed weakly. He managed to make her laugh, if only a little.

“I'm just kidding. You looked nervous. It's actually great, just a little bland, but maybe that's just for me”, said the tall man with light humour, chewing slowly as he scraped what little was left on the dishes with the tip of his fork.

“Shit, I knew I forgot to add salt, but I didn't want to risk it.”, She nodded, lips pressed into a tight line as she leaned against the counter, fingers drumming against the granite in time to the low music. “Let me see…”, She turned after a moment and scanned the kitchen for the ceramic salt shaker. Not finding it, she started looking through the lockers one by one.

The woman knelt on the floor and opened the lower cabinets, going through cautiously. Where did I put this? I was here a minute ago! Miriam heard the crockery click against the bottom of the metal sink and guessed her company had placed the plate there.

She found the damn thing in a drawer on the counter, next to the sink. Most likely she had put it there herself in a moment of distraction. Finding it, she picked up the salt shaker with one hand and got up quickly, but her vision darkened, and a sudden dizziness gripped her. The lack of oxygen and too many hours without food hit her like a train, and Miriam felt her legs lose all strength.

The young woman would have fallen if a pair of strong arms hadn't held her tightly.

“Hey, are you okay?”, Paul asked worriedly, leaning some of her weight on him and some on the counter. His big nervous eyes scanning the woman's face.

Harper could feel the priest's deep voice reverberate from the priest's slender torso to her chest at how close their bodies were.

Carefully so she wouldn't fall, Paul ran a hand along the woman's arm that was firmly holding the ceramic object and released it from her trembling fingers, placing the cylindrical object behind her on the counter in one movement. His nose sinking into her hair in the process for just an instant. As he moved back, he unconsciously pressed their bodies even closer together. Holding her weight as best he could, he whispered her name in a worried tone.

The woman raised confused, squinted eyes at the clergy, waiting for her vision to adjust. Blinking a few times, she watched the dark spots in her vision lighten. Her shaking hands having braced themselves on the man's broad shoulders. He had one leg between hers, supporting the weight of her hips against her thigh, while his arms had encircled the female figure's waist and bust. She breathed in deeply, each inhalation heavy. Miriam's brows drew together, confused by her blurry vision and stunned by her sudden proximity.

Paul brought a hand to Miriam's face and very subtly slapped her cheek a few times for her to open her eyes. This made her drop her dizzy head into his hand, which began to cup her face, hoping to make her come to her senses.

The priest was lost for a moment in the sweet scent of her locks, the scent of bergamot wafting through his nostrils, slowly drawing him to her. Little by little, he allowed himself to face the woman's panting lips. Even slightly discoloured, they looked soft and inviting. Is chastity still one of your virtues, Father? There was a voice in the back of his mind that abhorred the feelings his proximity to the strange woman aroused in him. Paul only realized how close he had got to her when the ginger breath from the woman's parted lips reached his senses.

Miriam felt the warm hand of the man who had stopped her from collapsing cup her face after lightly patting her. His body was so warm, and his arms held her so carefully, as if she were made of porcelain, ready to shatter at the slightest movement.

Opening her eyes a little, her vision no longer as dark as before was taken over by the tall form that cradled her. Miriam gasped minimally at how close he was, their faces just a hand's breadth apart. The accountant lost herself in the encompassing darkness of the priest's squinted eyes, his thick eyelashes darkening the colour of his irises even more. They stared at each other for just a brief moment, but the moment seemed to stretch on for long minutes.

Paul had a few loose strands falling into his eyes, as did she. The young woman let her gaze slip surreptitiously to the well-shaped lips of the man opposite her. A wave of heat pulsing in her core as he seemed to intensify the loop of his arm around her waist, unconsciously.

No, no, no, she stifled her impulse by pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind. Blinking hard a few times, Miriam giggled shyly, her face as red as a beet, pulling away from him slightly, and leaning her full weight against the counter to avoid the tempting pressure that the leg that rested between hers exerted on her core. The good priest cleared his throat and cautiously released her gradually, his face as flushed as her own. Once more, he asked if she was all right, just after putting the space of two steps between them.

“Uh… yes, dizziness, nothing more. I… I just forget to eat sometimes,” Miriam muttered, pressing her eyes down hard to steady herself, calming her breathing and organizing her thinking, she took a deep breath.

The priest's perfume seemed to have permeated her clothes, her hair, her skin, intoxicating her senses.

“The body complaints and I don't hear it all the time, so, well, dizziness. I'll be fine… Thank you for keeping me from hitting my head and having a possible concussion.”, she says with a crooked smile, feeling embarrassed for leaving herself so vulnerable around him.

“Okay…”, the man with black curls muttered, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on a specific spot on the worn floorboards under his feet.

Paul looked up at her once more. Miriam hugged her body shyly, her legs outstretched, distributing her body weight. He smiled slightly, she looked like an embarrassed little child, caught even before the mischief.

“You really shouldn't ignore the warnings, I might not always be around to try to keep you from getting hurt.”, he smiled, combing his black hair with his long fingers, a childish smile curving his lips.

“Yes, I shouldn't. I promise to be more careful from now on, I don't want it to end up happening when I'm walking up the stairs… Thank you.”, she tightened her lips in a thin line and mirrored the man's action, smoothing her own hair, which ended up letting go of it from the loose knot that held them. Her bangs cascaded down in front of her eyes.

The good priest was distracted by the young woman's beauty as she absently cleared his view of her hair. The sweet scent of those locks had permeated his cardigan, he smiled at the jovial thought that he would have her good scent to himself for the rest of the day. The gruff voice in his mind ruminated. You shouldn't think about it, there's a higher purpose you should dedicate yourself to. God chose you. That voice would keep him awake at night, along with the animal noises and murmurs of the Angel in his closet.

With some effort, Paul shook his head, as if to banish the lingering thought, and decided he would like to see her again.

“Um… Will I see you on Ash Wednesday? There will be a community event after the Mass, I'm sure you've been told…”, he said, his deep, smoky voice dying as he felt his cheekbones burning.

He smiled and acted as casually as he could. His dark eyes gleamed as he saw her blush.

“I would appreciate your presence there.”, the priest completed with a gentle tone, moving to pick up his messenger bag and putting it on his shoulder he turned to her, awaiting an answer.

Her shoulders felt shaky, even curled under her dark shawl. Taking a deep breath, she knotted the bow of her shawl and approached with a soft curve to her lips.

“Sure. I look forward to seeing you—” Miriam broke off abruptly, not having managed to get her tongue under control in time. She rephrased, her cheeks flushing a bright red. “E-Erin told me that your homilies are very beautiful.”, the woman smiled when she saw him chuckle slightly at the compliment.

“I'm glad she likes my homilies. I hope you like it as much as she does.” Paul smiled and prepared to leave, the weight of the sacrament he carried sinking his feet into the tiled floor.

Millie needs you, stop stalling and focus on your mission. The voice screamed in his mind. He took a deep breath. God has chosen you, don't let Him down.

“Well. I'd love to chat a little longer, but duty calls.” He waved his hand briefly around the strap of the bag that held the Sacrament. His feet led him to walk towards the door. “Good Morning. I hope you get better soon, Miriam. See you soon.”, said the clergy with one last smothered smile.

Miriam followed in his stride. Sock-clad feet sliding across the floor and stopping at the door jamb. With a flick of her wrist, she turned the knob and followed him outside. Now, they were both standing once more and ready to say goodbye on Erin's porch.

“Thank you so much for the visit, and for the muffin, you got it right.”, she smiled a slightly tired smile, although her eyes were apparently more active.

The woman looked uncomfortable about something, gripping the doorknob and staring at the tense lines that marked the priest's forehead, a lip between her teeth. Miriam looked like she wanted to tell him something important.

“Have a nice day, Father Paul… I…”, she pondered for a moment if she should tell him that she would like to tell him something about Bev. She seemed right to inform him of the deaconess's light hand on church money.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she lowered her eyes to the floor for a single moment, considering. Then she lifted her gaze to the dark coins in the priest's eyes, determined to warn him.

However, her decision was shattered as soon as her orbs caught a figure of medium height and thick hair walking towards the house. Recognizing Erin from a distance, the sick woman wrapped herself more tightly in her dark shawl and took a deep breath. It wouldn't be good if this got out before a confirmation, on second thoughts she decided to disguise her speech.

“Father, would you please send my best wishes to Monsignor Pruitt?”, Her voice was little more than a whisper, the shy tone giving way to the calm timbre that was hers. Paul blinked at her for a moment and nodded, his gaze shifting guiltily from her eyes.

“Sure, anything specific in mind?” The priest didn't like having to continue to support the lie he'd told, but it was a necessary evil. An uncomfortable knot tightened in his chest.

“No. Just…”, Miriam wondered for a moment whether she was questioning the old Monsignor about some unusual activity by one of his closest parishioners, but she pushed the idea aside. No, he's too old and too sick for that. “Not really.” Smiling simply and awkwardly, she played with the beads of the rosary around her neck.

“Well, as you wish.…”, he smiled minimally, still staring at his shoes, pushing away the guilt that that dialogue evoked in him. “I'm sure he'll be happy to hear it, so consider it delivered.”, The priest slightly uncomfortably adjusted the strap of his bag, the metaphorical weight of the Sacrament hunching over his shoulders. Taking a hesitant step back, he held the look she'd given him, a silence ensuing.

Miriam was staring at him, as she had as they walked together when they first met. A scrutinizing look, as if just looking at him could tell what he was thinking. Paul thought that for an instant he had seen the young woman's orbs swing to his lips.

The priest dropped his eyes to the feminine fingers that wrapped the rosary around her voluptuous bosom. The black haired man found it curious how the rosary she played with so often seemed to somehow be an anchor for her restless mind.

Looking closely at her, the priest couldn't help but think of the beautiful shape that the amulet adorned her neck. Paul scolded himself for imagining what it would be like to touch the soft skin at her throat. Even renewed the sins repeat themselves, the ruminating of the disembodied voice in his mind haunted him. The priest cleared his throat and looked away as her voice broke through the silence between them.

“Erin!”, Miriam called with youthful enthusiasm. Stepping forward and standing side by side with the good shepherd, breaking the distance he had put between them. Her shoulder brushed lightly against his arm, and she felt a rush of heat through her body.

The closeness seemed to burn in both of them.

Turning around calmly, the good cleric nodded to Erin, smiling weakly, he straightened his posture and cast a last glance at the young accountant.

“See you soon, Ms. Harper.” His smoky voice muttered, as he patted her shoulder gently, starting down the porch steps, the boards creaking with the sudden weight.

Miriam almost shivered at the measly touch.

“Good morning, Father”, Erin greeted briefly as she passed him on the way to the porch, her eyes squinted against the particularly sunny day. Without delay, Paul replied with a warm 'good morning' and a restrained smile. Nodding one last time, the priest began to distance himself from the two women. His strides carried him towards his own hidden mission.

The expectant mother looked at her tenant with an inquisitive arched brow. Once the good priest was gone, she discreetly pointed at him over her shoulder.

“I knew you were bad, but apparently it's a lot worse than I thought. What did he come to do? Give you the Anointing of the Sick?”, Erin asked with a mocking smile, humour tempering her words.

Miriam could barely contain her laughter, shaking her head and re-entering the house as the curly woman followed. Erin didn't get the answer she wanted from her tenant that day, but she certainly had her own suspicions.

Taglist:

@stardustandgunpowder, @liesandghosts, @pruitts-tight-fucking-jeans, @un-kiss-the-breakfast, @girlwiththenegantattoo, @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade, @sterwild, @thegardenarcher, @snapessecretdiary, @judarspeach, @je55b, @hungrhay, @midnight-mess, @ledzeppelindeanmon, @vivi-venus

If your name is striped, it’s because Tumblr don’t let me tag you for some reason. =(

Here's a Google form, where you can tell me where you want to be tagged.

[myhoneststudyblr]

I've been feeling really overwhelmed and unhappy lately. I have so much schoolwork, it feels like I'll never finish it all. There are many days when I do no work at all. I used to think this was simply laziness, but now I've realised that it's partially because the prospect of starting makes me so anxious. Some days I timetable my work and get some of it done, and this makes me feel a little more in control. But doing "enough" to actually succeed still feels impossible. Do you have any advice?

Hi anon! Sorry I took some time to answer this but I’ve actually been feeling a very similar way so I was taking some time for myself

Firstly, I want you to know that you are not alone. I’ve been feeling like this, other studyblrs have been feeling and so many others have been feeling low and anxious recently. The pandemic is super stressful and can be really hard to cope with but you are not alone in the slightest and I - and so many others - will always be here for you if you need us 💕

Secondly, in regards to the schoolwork problem, I defintely understand what you’re on about. The problem with being in quarantine is that we suddenly have all this time and the nature of the school system means that the vast majority of students (in my experience) have an internalised stressful compulsion that if we have time we need to be doing work otherwise we have not done anything useful with our day and we are a failure. This is defintely a feeling I’ve internalised and maybe it is partially to do with studyblr or maybe not but I want you to know that sometimes doing nothing can be the most useful thing for you to be doing. This can be really really difficult to put into action and it’s something that I personally have to constantly remind myself but it’s very important. We need to be able to give ourselves some slack to take time away and forgive ourselves for not always being productive because that is damn near inpossible to do.

I really relate to how you’ve described your current anxiety over the intitial starting of work so I’ve tried to come up with some tips or idea that could help you. They are a mixture of stuff that has been recommended to me and stuff that I have done myself to try and help my situation. They might not all work for you because everyone is different but perhaps some will so give them a go:

Talk to someone in your house (a parent/sibling/roommate) and just let them know what’s going on if they don’t know already. You don’t have to let them know absolutely everything detail if that stresses you out but just letting them get an idea that you’re struggling a bit can be helpful so they are aware

Ask that person to help keep you on track of your work. Let them know what your timetable/plan of the day is and ask them to just check in with you throughout the day or at the end of the day to see if you’ve done it.

Talk to your teachers to let them know what you are going through and hopefully they will be able to provide some guidance or leeway on work and commitments

Perhaps instead of a timetable, you could try a to do list instead. I personally can never keep to a study timetable because I find the strict time constraints very stressful and I feel like a failure if I don’t achieve it. Also I have a tendency to be very vague in what I timetable so I will just write ‘English’ or ‘history’ which seems way to daunting. With a to do list, it’s much less structured (which has both pros and cons) but if you are stressed about starting this could be a good way of avoiding it. You can also be way more specific about the task you will do: for example, do exercise 5 on page 71 of the biology textbook seems like a way less daunting task to me than just biology

Use apps such as Forest or flat tomato! I rely on Forest so much to force myself to just start because once I put that timer on and plant the tree I can’t go on my phone which is my main way of procrastinating and ignoring the work. You have to pay for the app (I can’t remember how much sorry) but i would honestly say it is completely worth it. Flat tomato is a bit different as it is a pomodoro method based app but it’s a great app too!

A tip that I saw given by someone taking part in my 2020 quarantine challenge (I can’t remember who of the top of my head sorry!) was to film yourself studying! You see these types of time lapse videos on studyblr quite often and I think this would be a really good way to keep yourself accountable and visually see that you’ve completed something

If you are feeling very stressed you could maybe try to do some mindfulness colourings to relax before starting work. There are loads of really nice ones that you can find with a quick google search

Try studying in a different place if that is available to you. Maybe you could study in your kitchen or living room or even your garden if you have once because sometimes the change of scenery and environment is helpful because it removes you from a study space that probably is associated with stress

Finally, be kind to yourself. This is a really difficult time and it’s probably going to be difficult for a while now so it’s more important than ever to take time just for yourself and maybe watch that movie that you’ve been meaning to see for ages or read that book that everyone has recommended or even just take a nap

✨ I hope that this will be even the tiniest bit helpful to you and I hope that I’ve given you some tips and things to do that will be useful! If anyone else has any tips that have worked for them please reblog and add it below ✨

Thanks for the ask and I hope you get to a better place! Please feel free to message me or send me an ask any time and I will do my best to help you x

- Sophie 💕

[bixgirl1]

What makes you read and rec a fic? I've seen you get asks judging you for your recs and I'm not doing that i swear but I've been writing for a while and I think I'm good except I don't get a lot of hits. I just thought I'd ask your perspective in general because I love your writing and recs. (Please don't post if this is offensive, I don't mean to be.)

Hi nonnie! No worries, you're not being offensive in the slightest. ❤

Truthfully, I'm not reading a lot of fic right now, partly because I don't when I'm trying to write. Also, while I'm not exactly burnt out from it, I have been finding myself a bit overwhelmed by all of the options and by how quickly my to-read list grows.

But when I do feel like it/have the time, what I pick to read comes down to a few things. Author is probably the main one. I hate saying that because I know there are a lot of brilliant new writers hitting the drarry scene, but because I tend to have so little time - and get overwhelmed at the choices - I often reserve that time for writers I'm familiar with, whose works I know I'll love. But even so, I have to factor in things like the length of the fic its genre, and my own mood. Occasionally I'll see a rec at the exact right moment, check it out, and end up reading for 3 hours straight. At other times, my mood alone is the thing that gets me seeking out a new writer - wanting to read something short and dramatic, or medium-length and funny w some smut, or whatever, and not finding something that appeals to that need in my to-read bookmarks. I have a backlog of fics that I've been dying to read (apologies @diligent-thunder , @lettersbyelise , @tackytigerfic , @quicksilvermaid , and anyone else I'm forgetting! ❤) that I haven't gotten around to for some combination of those reasons. So those are some of the reasons I have for picking what I pick to read.

As for reccing, that's legitimately mostly about time, and I've been doing it a lot less frequently of late. If I read something through to the end, I'll almost always want to rec it, but I've used up a lot of time reading the damn thing lol. I do try to do tiny recs a lot, like reblogging someone else's rec of a fic I loved, or art based on it.

But none of this really goes to the heart of your ask, I think, which really touched me because I've been posting for years and have yet to post anything without wondering about its reception, or if it'll even get readers. So, regarding how to do that, my best advice would be to join things. Anon fests are great for that, because they take away the name-bias that happens in fandom, and usually you have at least the other participants reading your works and oftentimes a lot of readers, who comment and rec fics. But other fests are just as good, the ones that aren't anon and/or are niche, like @dracotops-harry , or @hpkinkfest , because your fic will appeal to the people looking to read exactly that. Also, joining places like the drarry discord and making friends can help; getting a friend's perspective on your works and where you can tighten them up can be awesome too.

Good luck, nonnie! ❤❤❤

[capricxs]

hi! feel free to not answer that if you're not comfortable, but i've had my eye on for cataline for ages! and every time a new member slot opens, i get too anxious to join. it's such a big group! everyone seems nice and i've never heard anything bad about it, but... is it stressful to be in such a writing heavy group? and with so many people, is it hard to build connections? thank you for your answer!

hey hey no problem my dude. i’m happy to help. maybe my onions will help. if you want to know more opinions or wanna ask specific questions, feel free to reach out directly but probably best to do so privately so i don’t clog the dash.

first off, i don’t think this group is really that “writing heavy”. i have some threads that are single paragraph, and even light single paragraphs, to multi para threads. the nice thing is my multi paras aren’t forced in the slightest. i rarely can chalk up the inspo to write two+ meaty paragraphs unless the content calls for it. there’s no pressure in catalina to have any type of threads. but my threads that feel a bit more substantial to my muse (closer connections n plot related rather than responding to a goofy open) tend to run longer. i’ve even seen people just send off one-liner starters.

but i’m also a relatively fast replier. i can typically get 3-4 replies out a day. sometimes more sometimes less. it can get a bit overwhelming when my drafts get close to ten or over ten but that just usually forced me to churn out more. i will say--- people reply pretty quickly here. i was shocked and impressed but for a lot of threads you wont be waiting days for replies. that also can mean you’ll get drafts faster. so take that how you will if that’s your schtick.

as for connections, this is /really/ a two person system. i will say, people here are awesome and friendly and willing to plot with you. but, when i joined, i put in the elbow grease. i joined with a complete shipper of 10+ connection ideas i had that i wanted filled (i also filled a wc that got me some connections because of it). it made it a lot easier to just send it off and have people fill them, or have it as a starting place. i think if you put in the work, you’ll get the reward. also frankly, in established rps, i kind of like when they’re bigger because it’s nice to plot with Some people but you don’t have to figure out something with every person, which leads to more “nostalgic” first time interactions or even down the road connections with a person for plots. it’s a lot less overwhelming. **also the admin team is really great and they seem to do awesome things to help promote inclusion and keep things interesting and engaging in the group.

this got a bit rambly but my tldr is this: catalina has been great so far ! but with any group, especially established ones is you have to put in the work. not saying you gotta bend over backwards but you can’t just write limp and expect it to go smoothly. but i think the payoff would be amazing. i, personally, am more than willing to put in a bit of extra work to be in a group that’s long lasting where i can actually write full character arcs and build friendships ooc.

also please take my wc i Beg.

[namjuicytits]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE COOLEST, CUTEST, FUNNIEST, MOST TALENTED AND HARDWORKING, HANDSOMEST, SEXIEST LEADER TO EVER EXIST!!!!!!!!!! 💗🥳🎊🥰🎉

everyone please enjoy this moment, it will probably never happen again ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

ah... we're really here, with another birthday passing. this is our twelfth year celebrating together... TWELVE WHOLE YEARS... 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 it's really crazy, right? thinking of all of our time spent together, it feels like the blink of an eye, yet my heart is full of so many important and cherished memories it's like a lifetime too. as we all know, one of my favorite things to do is look back at all of the photos and videos i've taken of you guys over these years ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ these days i've been digging up so many ancient artifacts of you and i, or just random things i've captured of you. whether you were being cute, funny, cool, or all of the above at one time ( because that's one of your biggest talents, and it's one i don't think anyone could master quite like you ), none of them failed to make me smile. some of the smiles have been filled with fond tears, and a lot were filled with so much laughter... well... i was also in tears 🤭🤭🤭 ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ don't say anything about how much i cry... i just can't help it!! i have a lot of overwhelming love in my heart for you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ are you ready to see what i dig out of my infamous vault to share with the world today? are you scared? ㅎㅎㅎ i won't embarrass you too much... maybe~

since the day i met you, i've always been truly grateful for many things. but one of the most important to me is how comfortable i've felt with you all these years. as someone i share the same age with, i feel like there's never been any barriers between us, and our relationship has been one of complete honesty and trust, whether we like to hear what each other has to say or not. and for others it may sound odd, but i really appreciate that more than words can say. you've never been afraid to tell me what you really think, no matter how harsh it may be, or how hard it is to listen to and swallow. i know if i come to you, nothing will be sugarcoated, and i'll get the raw and truthful opinions that i need. that could be with my own personal life, or with my work, it doesn't matter what... your words have helped me through a lot, and your advice has carried me through more tough situations than i could list. if i tried, it would be long enough to wrap around the world and back to us again ㅋㅋ not only that, but i feel like i can be my real self with you, and that's something that really means the world to me. you may judge me a little bit sometimes, but that's okay!! you still accept me anyway, and that's what truly matters. i really adore the times when we're together alone, sharing a beer and talking about life. i feel so at peace in your presence, listening to you talk, and hearing your outlook and the way you think about things. it's an exciting feeling to get a small peek into that massive brain of yours, and see what kinds of things are on your mind at any given time. you're always inspiring, even when you're not trying to be. it's an aura you have about you, and it makes me want to be the best version of myself, and work even harder to be even a fraction of the talented, intelligent, and levelheaded man that you are. i appreciate you so much namjoon, thank you for being one of the best friends anyone could ask for.

not only are you a great friend, but a phenomenal leader too. that's also something about you that has shined so brightly since the beginning, even when it was just you, me, and yoongi hyung as trainees. i was really scared back then, i didn't have the slightest idea what i was doing. i could dance, and i wanted to sing... that's really all i had at that time. i was told i needed to rap, and i was so lost and terrified it was a constant stress weighing on my shoulders. i really don't think i would have made it through if it wasn't for you guys. i mean it with my entire heart and soul when i say i owe everything to you. you had a lot of patience with my young and clueless self when you really didn't have to, and you taught me everything i know. i feel very lucky to say i learned to rap from kim namjoon. and i also feel lucky to say i'm a part of bts because of kim namjoon. when i wanted to leave -- well, did leave, you fought so hard to get me to change my mind. you didn't want to let me give up, and you didn't want to let our company give up on me either. although it was stressful and tiring, and an emotionally painful time in our lives... i cherish it with a bittersweet fondness now. not only did i feel wanted, but i felt needed, all thanks to you. knowing you really think bts couldn't continue on without me... i can't even begin to describe the feelings that come over me every time i think about it ㅎㅎ so yeah... even my career, i owe it all to you. i wouldn't have it if you weren't so stubborn. and i know i'm speaking for every single one of us when i say bts couldn't exist without you. we need you, and we need all of your skills. without them, we would fall apart. please never change.

i could let this go on forever, but i'll end it with saying thank you again. for everything. for being part of my life. for existing in the same time as me at all. i'll always be grateful, and i'll always appreciate you until my last breath. happy birthday to one of the best people to ever grace humanity, and one of my best friends that i truly couldn't live without. let's have a drink together soon, please, i miss our little dates 🥺🥺 everything will be my treat!! have an amazing day, you deserve nothing less~

                                         love,                                                 hobi ♡