#its the only creative thing that ive done for myself lately too

[roachemoji]

🤡 ⭐️ funny little cardigan 🌙 ❤️

maybe I'll actually dress up and style an outfit or something

[cass-windfeild]

Star stable Creepypasta: Staring Horse

At last, my sso creepypasta is complete! Sorry it took a while, work and Halloween preparation got in the way. But, as promised, it is ready for Halloween!

As stated before, this isnt going to be anything spectacular. Ive never written anything horror related before, and while I tried to do my own thing, I was mostly inspired by creepypastas like Ben Drowned, Sonic.exe, and lot of WildCraft creepypastas Ive been listening to. Its also mostly just a very edited first draft. This was more or less a test of my skills.

As a warning, there is no gore or blood in this, however there is a description of a pretty messed up horse model that may or may not be considered body horror, as well as mentions of a possible mental break? Not 100% sure, but I want to cover my bases.

Without further adieu, enjoy.

And Happy Halloween!

I've never really been obsessed with video games.

That's not to say I don't like them, or even that I don't play them. I game quite a bit in my free time, from action packed first person shooters, to emotional story driven games, even relaxing farming and life simulators. I've always tried to be open to all kinds of games. However, the issue is I never seem to stay interested. I tend to hyperfocus on specific games for weeks, even months at a time, and then, eventually, I just put it down one day, and don't come back. I just tend to lose interest, be it in the story, the mechanics, the characters. I just get bored and move on to new things.

Except for one game.

Star Stable Online. An open world MMORPG horse game where you can create a character, buy horses of varying breeds, coat colours, and patterns, train your horses in races or a variety of other disciplines, talk with friends, join clubs, dress up your character and horses, and complete story quests to save the world and learn about the island. Everything an equine crazed individual like myself could ask for in a horse game. Out of all the games I played in my life, Star Stable was the one that seemed to have a constant grip on my psyche.

It started out as just a way to finally unleash my love of horses, an obsession that had started as a child and only increased in my late teens, without shame or judgement. But over time, it became so much more. It became my comfort. My way to cope with all trials and tribulations of everyday life. No matter how mentally straining school was, how exhausting work was, or how bad my mental state was at any given time, so long as I had wifi, my laptop, and the will to stay awake into the dead of night, I had my escape. I could let my mind wander to a world where I wasn't alone or stressed. Where there was no homework that made me feel like I was going insane, no entitled or argumentative customers, no overbearing managers. Just me and my horses exploring the island of Jorvik, saving the world from evil organisations and dark magic, and living peacefully, knowing the real world couldn't hurt us here.

At least, until recently.

In the game, there are certain areas of the game that are closed off, having both invisible and physical walls around them to prevent players from getting in. They're either areas that aren't done yet, or ones that just never ended up opening up. Not that that stopped anyone though. If there's any area people know they're not supposed to go, they're gonna do everything in their power to get there. This is usually done through knowing the layout of the land, knowing what steps to take, and, often, getting a bit creative. There's countless tutorials online of how to get into closed off areas. Some are no longer working due to patches in the game, but finding one that still works is never too difficult. On days when there are no quests or special events, and training starts to feel repetitive, I've taken to testing these glitches and seeing just how efficient they are. I've glitched into Ashland, Devils Gap, Marchengast Castle, Cape Point, the typical areas that seem of interest to players. I even started trying the techniques in other areas to see if I could glitch myself somewhere no one had seen yet, though my efforts have so far seemed to be in vain.

Late one night, I was attempting to glitch into Mystic valley, like I had before, in hopes of getting some nice photos. I jumped out of the Secret Stone Circle and fell into the purple haze as usual, when I heard a familiar whinny, followed by a black screen with the text “Your horse was badly hurt.”. Great. I must've messed something up, I figured.I waited for my screen to return, expecting I'd be transported back to my home stable and have to start the glitch all over again. But to my surprise, when it did, I was in the Mystic Valley, as though I'd successfully made the fall, only, the area was now covered in a thick fog, like when you entered the Mirror Marshes.

I suspected that it was a glitch, or maybe the area had been updated. Hoping to find something new, I rode around a bit, checking all the edges and open space of the area. But after around 15 minutes running around and bumping into invisible walls, I still found that everything seemed normal. Just the same old rolling hills, sparsely placed bushes and trees, and occasional unfinished textures. After a while, I grew bored, and just started looking for some nice photo spots instead. But as I rode past an indented area in the mountain, I saw something I hadn't before. Something white amongst the trees and shrubs that was just barely visible through the fog. A horse. A grey horse with a black mane, standing perfectly still near the base of the mountain.

I had seen plenty of unused or work in progress models hidden in supposedly unreachable areas to keep them out of sight from players, and although I'd never seen one in Mystic Valley before, that's what I suspected it was. Possibly a new NPC horse or even an unreleased breed or colour the developers had been testing. I tried to get closer to see it better, but was blocked by an invisible wall that hadn't been there the last time I visited. Of course, they had to block off the most interesting thing in the area. I tried a few times to pass the wall, but no matter the angle or area, my horse halted and reared in refusal. I was giving up hope of getting any closer, so I resorted to just taking a photo and zooming in as much as possible. I got off my horse in the slim hope that I could get a little closer for a better angle. Only, this time, the wall didn't stop me. My horse couldn't pass, but I could walk on foot as close as I wanted. It was odd, but I wasnt about to question it.

I started approaching, but the closer I got, the more I realised how odd this horse looked. It didn't look like any breed of horse in the game, or like any breed I knew of. Everything looked… wrong. Like a bunch of different horses merged into one. Its legs were thin and long like a saddlebred, but its body was thick and wide like an ardennes or Jorvik wild horse. Its neck looked like that of the friesian, but it was bent down at an odd angle, like its head was being forcefully pulled against its chest. Its long, dark mane looked twisted and tangled, like a longer version of the mustangs. But what was the most disturbing was its face. It looked like it meant to be shaped like an Arabian, but the eyes were all… wrong. They were angled far more forward than they should have been, placing them more on the front of the face than more to the sides. Not only that, but the eyes themselves looked inverted, making it appear as though there were instead two hollowed out sockets in their place. Even the shading made it seem as though that was the original intent. Everything about this horse was downright creepy. Why the hell would SSE make something like this?

I decided to take a picture and see if anyone online knew anything about this eerie horse or if they had any idea why it looked like this. I pressed the photo button, but the second I entered photo mode, the horse vanished as though it wasn't even there. Was SSO so determined to hide this thing that they even hid it from the photo mode?

Not wanting to leave without evidence of this thing, I resorted to screenshots, taking a few photos before clicking out of the game to check the folder. But when I did, what I saw made no sense. In every screenshot I took, I saw my character, the area, the fog, even my own horse in some shots… but not the NPC horse. How was that even possible? The screenshots weren't in game, they should have just captured what was on the screen. I clicked back to the game to try again, but completely froze.

The horse had moved. It's neck twisted at a harsh angle, as though it had been broken in half. Its previously hollow indents of eyes now had two small pinpricks of light at their centre, barely big enough to make out. And with those tiny dots that made up its eyes, it started.

It started at me.

Not my character.

Me.

Have you ever had someone stare at you so intensely that, even if you had your back to them, you could feel it? Like an almost primal instinct kicks in to warn you that there's danger and to prepare to defend yourself. The moment you notice, you get this split second where your body freezes up, and everything around you goes numb except for that feeling of a pair of eyes. That's what I felt when I saw that things eyes staring back into mine through my computer screen. Those hollow eyes felt as though it was staring straight through to my very soul, making my blood run cold. I wanted to move, to scream, to  do anything, but I felt frozen in place, as though that things cold, unblinking stare had me trapped. As I stared, I began to hear the faintest sound in the back of my mind. Almost like a raspy, gargled breathing. The longer it stared, the louder the sound got, slowly becoming the only thing I could hear. As though, even without moving, it was drawing closer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to snap out of my frozen state, quickly slamming my laptop shut, not even caring in the moment if it broke. The second I did, everything stopped, and I found myself gasping for air despite not even realising I had been holding my breath. My eyes flickered around the room, instinctually looking around the room for danger. After a few minutes, I managed to calm myself down a bit. My body trembled as I became drenched in a cold sweat, and questions ran through my mind faster than I could even process any kind of answer. 

What the fuck was all that? Why did it feel like that thing was actually staring at me? Like it was actually in my room?  What was that messed up breathing sound? Why was that disturbing thing in a game targeted at kids? What the hell was going on? The questions, as well as the lingering adrenaline and paranoia of what just happened, kept me up the rest of the night. My eyes cautiously scanned the darkness, as though that thing would creep around the corner at any moment, until sunlight finally poured in the windows of my room.

I went about my day in an exhausted haze, still mulling over what happened as I tried to find a logical answer. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it a glitched horse model? Or a new scare tactic to keep people from glitching into areas they weren't supposed to, like the old anti-pirating screens of old video games? Maybe even an early model of a new Halloween horse? But why was I so freaked out by it? It was just a pixelated horse in a video game, but when it stared at me, it felt so terrifyingly real, like it would crawl out of the screen or even like it was already in the room with me. Maybe I was just tired from staying up late so often, and I was starting to become paranoid because of it?

The more I thought it over, the more I managed to convince myself. Of course it wasn't staring at me. It was probably just a glitch. Just a bunch of pixels on a screen. It wasn't real. Hell, maybe it wasn't even as scary looking as I thought. My brain was probably just experiencing hallucinations from lack of sleep. That had to be it, right?

Besides, even if that thing was real and as scary as I thought, I wasn't going to let it stop me from playing my favourite game.

That night, after I had dinner and finished my homework, I turned on my computer (which, thankfully, was not broken from the rough treatment last night), and logged on to Star stable again. As I waited for the site to load, I couldn't help but wonder. What if it was real? What if I loaded into Mystic Valley again, and that thing was still there? What if I froze up again? I pushed the feeling away. I had already left the lights on to ease this ridiculous fear, I wasn't backing down. It was just a stupid creepy horse in a video game. It was fake. I was safe. The game opened with the familiar welcoming ring, and I was thankful to see I was back in front of my home stable, and there was no glitched NPC horse anywhere to be seen. I sighed in relief. It was all just in my mind.

I spent the next few hours training my lower level horse, completing race after race as I made my way across the map like always. I even competed in a few championships, despite being one of the only people online at that time of night. However, I couldn't shake this eerie feeling. Everything was normal, but I kept feeling as though I wasn't alone. Like there was always someone or something watching me from just out of my line of sight, and whenever I looked around, it would disappear. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was my imagination or that I was still just anxious from everything.

At around 4 am, I had finished all the races and decided to call it a night. I called for pickup, and went to enter my stable. But after a few seconds of loading, I noticed something. There was no image of Maya walking through the stable to take care of the horses. Just a pitch black screen with no text. At first, I thought my computer had frozen, and I begrudgingly waited for the “Star Stable.EXE has stopped working” pop up. But, after a minute or so, the loading finished, and I was standing inside the stable. Only, my horse was gone. All of my horses were gone. Was my game crashing? I looked around briefly before clicking the stable button to see where my horse went. 

What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. In place of every icon that was meant to be one of my horses was instead replaced by that same, deformed face of that horse, staring back at me with those dark, soulless eyes. And where my horses names should have been, was instead my name. My real name.

How was that even possible? I never used my real name anywhere on star stable, or anywhere online for that matter. I exited the stable menu, and there it was. That mangled, horrifying thing standing in the stable aisle staring at me. I felt my body tense, but I refused to let that thing trap me again. It's not real, I told myself. It's a glitch. That's all.

I pressed the exit button to quit the game, but nothing happened. I kept pressing, but no menu appeared. I started to panic as I heard the distorted breathing begin again, and as it did, I watched in horror as the horse's jaw slowly unhinged, stretching down towards the ground, revealing a set of sharp, fang-like teeth that lined its jaw. I felt its eyes burn into me, like a predator sizing up its prey before going for its throat. This wasn't in my head. This wasn't just a glitch. Whatever this thing was, it was real, it was sentient, and it wanted me. I kept clicking every button I could think of to get the game to close, but still, nothing worked. Even when I finally had enough and slammed my laptop closed again, I could still hear those tortured breaths getting louder and louder in my head. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, begging it to stop, to just go away, but still it persisted till I couldn't even hear my own panicked heartbeat over it.

I was about to scream out of pure fear and desperation when all of a sudden, it stopped. Just as quickly as the breathing had begun, it stopped, leaving me in the silence of my room. I sat motionless for a few moments before slowly opened my eyes, tears threatening to fall as I looked frantically around the room for any sign of danger, but all I saw was my lit bedroom and my computer all but tossed off my lap, teetering near the edge of the bed.

Was it over? Was that thing gone? I sat as still as possible for the longest time, as though waiting for something, anything to happen, but still, nothing. After what felt like hours, I mustered up the courage to reach for my computer. I had to know. Just a quick peak to make sure it was off and that that thing wouldn't come for me. Slowly, I lifted the screen, just enough that I could see the light of the screen.

Nothing.

Inch by inch, I opened the laptop fully, only to be met with a black screen. A sigh escaped me as I confirmed the computer had powered itself off after being closed. So long as I didn't log on to the game, that thing couldn't possibly get me.

But as moved to close it, my eyes caught sight of my reflection in the darkness of the screen.

And I saw it.

In the reflection was that long, grey, mangled face with its dead, hollow eyes staring motionless at me from the shadows, its jaw still unhinged like a snake.

The next thing I remember was my parents rushing into my room as I screamed bloody murder, thrashing violently as I tried to get away from that thing. They practically had to restrain me to get me to finally calm down. I cried in their arms as they frantically pushed for answere to figure out what had happened. When I tried to explain, they chalked it up to a night terror brought on by stress. The more I tried to insist it was real, the more they assured me it wasn't. I only stopped insisting when they started suggesting getting me psychological help and the idea that I was having a mental breakdown. I knew no one would believe me. Even if I got proof, what could they really do about any of this anyway?

It's been months since I last played Star Stable Online. Even the thought of logging on makes me feel anxiety build up in my chest. I want so desperately to have things back to the way they were. To just log on and forget the world again. And yet, I know that I never will. That thing didn't just  traumatize me. It stole a part of me. It stole my comfort. My escape from the world. It stole that sense of peace and safety, a part of me I will never get back.

What's worse, it stole my sense of reasoning. I tried researching what I saw and asking around the community. I even emailed Star Stable Entertainment themselves, just hoping for any kind of answer, and still got nothing. I dont have an explanation for what happened or why it affected me so much. 

I can't explain why it chose me, or how it was able to do what it did. 

I can't explain why I still see it, or why it almost appears to be getting a bit closer everytime I see it in the corner of my eye. 

I can't explain why every night since, the moment I start to fall asleep, I hear those same, horrid, gasping breaths in my ears, getting louder and louder. 

And, no matter how hard I try, I can never explain why Ive started feeling a cold rush of air run down my neck in time with each breath.

[ultramidas]

Worst Fucking Week 2/2

After that stupid music production shit i tried a video course like working cameras n shit and the guy teaching first off was low energy and didnt care and when we were learning video editing he fucking sucked i swear everyone in that course did way better but by the time i joined that course it was too late too leave and i never got to use a camera so it fucking sucked and they want me to do another co-op this year too so ill probably fucking kill myself before that or not ill see in a few months but the reason school sucked this week specifically because i never explained that first off first day of the week i had to walk to school in the rain and it got fucking soaked i felt dead and sick and just wet i felt like i wanted to just die it fucking sucked but i feel like dying like everyday but that day i felt like i was gonna end it, when i got into the school i walked to a principals helpers or some shit idk what she does she game me a school shirt which was a really nice thing so that was really nice but i also talked to her about dropping out and my mental problems and depression and how ive hurt myself and i think about suicide and my anger outburst and she brought me to the school nurse because the school therapist or whoever she was talking about wasnt there she was gonna bring me to her the next day but ill get to that anyways we discussed what helps me calm down i said i like music drawing and video games and i do like doing that stuff but recently its just felt shitty i havent felt creative or encouraged to do those things recently but anyway she gave me some numbers for suicide help and the teacher bitch that brought me to her took then and said she would give them to me after school and she never did and never for the rest of the week infact she forgot about me because i never saw the school therapist because she wasnt there and the teacher bitch never brought me and never talked to me after hat day which she said she would so yeah i feel like i wanna just die because i feel like nothing anymore i feel invisible and like i dont matter im not smart i cant think of anything creative anymore i feel like a failure and my living conditions arent much better i just wanna end myself but i also dont, i wanna finish a mixtape ive ben working on for awhile because i wanna make music its all i wanna do because its what i wanna do in the future its the only thing i think i can actually do and if i cant do that i might just kill myself because ill just feel useless more useless than i already do, so thats whats happening with me if you care ill release my mixtape when i wanna or when i think its done or whatever thanks for reading if you did

[cr-yellow]

1, 4, 17, 27, 33, 49, 58, 61, and 70

THANK U SM ILY HFIREJIJFOIJFR

Despite the fact I've started an extremely long and detailed multi-chapter fic, which I love dearly, it is no secret that I prefer one-shots. I have a hard time finishing fic and one-shots leave no room for incomplete fics when I get too busy! They also tend to do better for me somehow.

4. My new ideas... I get a lot of inspo from other people, from other fics, and from fanart! I thrive off of other people a LOT. Sometimes I do just love rewatching something and letting my mind wander tho

17. When writing becomes difficult for me (which it often does) I usually just try to center myself with things that make me feel better about it. Rereading the fic itself to remember why I loved it, talking to other people about the fic, trying to be patient with myself to actually have fun with it, re-reading the heart-wrenching comments left for me (SERIOUSLY I LOVE THIS SM), and most of all remembering that creativity is an ebb and flow and I won't always be creative!

27. My favorite part of writing has to be when I actually complete something and put it out into the word. Whether that is a chapter or a one-shot, when I finally get to share this thing that I've been doing with others... it's so good. I also love being able to see the surprise when I give them a twist. My least favorite part has to be.. well sometimes I get to a scene, right? I've done some research, have to do more (ugh!) which feels like a lot. Then when I finally get to writing it, I don't know where I want the scene to go what's going to happen next. Even the tiny details like how they're going to stand. Getting over those little hurdles takes me a while sometimes. All I want to do is get into the meat of the dialogue! Ugh!

33. I do actually want to be published some day! I have something I've been working on for a long, long time but I've never had the confidence to really get into or finish. Lately I hit a slump with it and it kind of bummed me out for a while. I'm glad I can write other things like LWH.

49. Rude reviews... unfortunately for me I don't have a big enough pull in order to get comments like that. Usually I have an overwhelmingly positive response to my writing. There was once when I was just starting to write... *shudder* they dragged me all over Twitter. It was a whole thing. I kind of deserved it.

58. What part of writing do I like the most. Hm. This one is tough. Going to be totally honest here, I only outline fics like LWH that have a lot of details I don't want to mess up and I barely use or stick to the outline. I guess if I had to pick it would be between brainstorming and reading the final product. I get caught up in brainstorming a lot because I have so many ideas so quickly and its usually main plots and relationships. I have so many ideas that die in this phase and it kind of sucks, but I love the rush that comes with new exciting ideas. Reading the final product would probably be my fave part though- not the editing. Just. I like to come back to my fic after a while, like a few days or a week or so, and then reread it. And its like I get to read that fanfic I was looking for that tickles all the right spots. Because I did that. (Sometimes, if Ive waited long enough, I forget what happens and its all new to me!!)

61. I guess I continue writing fics for two reasons. (Im so sorry I'm indecisive). 1- I love being able to share them with people and see their reactions. it gets me every time. 2- recently I've been really into writing for me. It isn't just about other people. Especially with LWH where I've done so much research, it feels like. Heres this thing. I want to do it to finish it, yeah, to share it, maybe. But I really wanna do it because I like seeing where it goes and I like being able to apply my research in interesting ways.

70. I am So embarrassed to tell people I write. Like if I know you IRL there is NO way I'm telling you anything about my writing. Maybe because of being on Tumblr? IDK. But online I'm way more willing and happy to share cause. you're never going to look me in the eyes and know I wrote smut fanfiction about Sans/Komaeda. You're never going to know about the terrible things I've written about. If I just had LWH on my page, maybe, since I'm mostly proud of that even if it is a little weird, but... I have so many others.

Thank you so much for the Ask! I realize I don't talk much on here about my writing and my process. It's so fun!

Feel free to ask me more questions from here!

[wondermentishere]

crying in the bath tub :( my birthday technically starts in less than 15 minutes and sitting here in warm water encouraging myself to be honest about how i feel. i got fired from the strip club today over what i know is bullshit but it still hurts feeling like ive failed. even failing at something that i know is not for me is taking its toll. im just attached cause i thought that was my only hope for getting my rent and bills paid for this month. i was hoping to get on night shift tonight, but it ended up being the worst day ive ever done. ive been practicing using my intuition during my dreams lately and i think its my ancestors urging me to use this skill in real life more. everyone said that was the best strip club in town but my experience was just really crummy. i really have nothing but bad things to say about that place, i felt really unsafe and honestly degraded there. reality was telling me i wouldve ended up wrecked if i stayed there, but my imagination had an alternate magical ending lol. thats usually how it goes when things are clearly not for me. im just so determined to stay and make things work. “push through” as if thatll do me any good.

its hard for me to let go in a healthy manner. accepting reality/being forced to release control makes me angry. i get upset with people but i really beat myself down too. i tell myself im unworthy of rest. that i dont deserved to be celebrated or loved on. without control, i feel worthless. the emotional side of me does anyway. as an anticapitalist, intellectually i know all of this is bullshit and tying my worth to any of this crap is a stupid trap. i am beautiful, i am talented, i am creative, i am magical. i am beyond. no matter what happens. no matter who says or thinks what. no matter what i lose or gain. my sparkle is an inherent quality that i really want to fight to defend as an 25 year old.

i tried. it didnt work out so its time to move on. and just looking back on my history lol, ive been in plenty of situations that felt hopeless but they were so cut throat cause i needed to get the fuck out. i be taking too long to go. i be choosing to suffer. fuck that. emotionally it is so hard for me to say “fuck that”. my tolerance for bullshit is too high. fuck that.

[madisonrooney]

been getting more and more emotionally and socially drained by work. ik people on here joke a lot about like “i hate being perceived and seen and known” and all that but i honestly have felt that way a lot of my life, and when you work in retail, youre constantly in view and being watched yknow? 

sure i went to school for a big chunk of my life but at least in college when the mental illness really started fleshing out, i could just hide in the back of the class on my computer and an entire semester would go by without my classmates learning pretty much anything about me. now its not only customers but coworkers, youll say some embarrassing shit, which isnt uncommon when youre there as many hours as you are since you start to get rambly, and you cant just shrug it off bc guess what youll see them again tomorrow and the next day and the next day...

ive already had to leave early bc of panic attacks on two different occasions. ive already cried while out on the floor. ive already cried in front of multiple leads and managers. and again, you have to face them again and god its humiliating. 

i just constantly find myself needing time in complete isolation and silence to recuperate, but not having much of it. typically, i only have 2-3 hours after i get home to do anything before i go to bed, and it usually takes me that much time just to catch up on my social media. even if i forgo that for a night, with my attention span, i still cant get much of anything done.

plus im typically busy on any and all of my days off

i just. would really love to have like a week where i just do not have to be seen by a single other person, or at least my public outings can be anonymous like shopping or something. i feel my best on days like that. during quarantine, i honestly had no problem not seeing anyone else besides my parents for more than a year. if anything, i got sick of my parents lol. id spend months on end on my own and dont remember having much of a problem at all with it. sure, id want to remotely hang out with friends, but that would feel more comfortable bc i didnt necesarilly have to be on camera and i could end it whenever i wanted to. i remember going 13 days without setting foot out of my front door and i honestly loved it.

anyway im getting off topic. going back to the matter at hand, i guess my brain is just trained to think that im gonna get a “summer break” at some point but i wont. i feel like i need something like that but idk if i can get it. even if i had my own events going on, it would be nice to have a few days in between where i just had nothing going on, which is what my summers used to be like.

bottom line is this doesnt have to do with my job specifically, its just jobs like this in general. i think in serious enough cases, im good at not just taking what i get but getting what i want out of a situation and i would say thats the case here. im not complaining bc i should have a different job and just dont feel like getting one, im complaining bc capitalism is just inherently like this. my job checks all the main boxes for me: i get pretty much all the days off that i want, the hours are late so it works with my whack sleep schedule, and its not a creative job where theres work to take home, it ends at a certain hour and then you dont have to think about it until you come back, which is p much necessary for my ocd. anything beyond those three factors matters much less. so yah, its the best i can get all things considered, but it still has its issues.

the one potential thing that could get me less social interaction would be training to work in the back, but i mean id still have to socialize with coworkers, plus ive heard you kinda make your own schedule back there so haha thats a no go for my ocd. it also seems too physical for me.

[lcnelyinthesky]

admiration - tsukishima kei

a/n: okay hi?? im ellie?? heres this??? i worked on it for like four? days?on and off? and its longer than any oneshot ive written but yk shes cute ig. pls be nice pls enjoy... but also my last piece got 2 notes and im really hopin in not shadowbanned here lmao

genre: fluff, angst, rivals to lovers!!

pairing: bisexual!female!reader x tsukishima kei (yes bi reader its a vibe)

warnings: a break up with a beautiful woman i made up myself, swearing

word count: 3.7k (ahhhh!!)

enjoy!! :D

Elementary second year. Your newly-assigned seat was next to a much taller, blond kid. He was smart and bright, rivaling the sun in terms of unbridled joy. Now, none of that can be seen by eight year old eyes, but looking back and comparing, it's easy to spot that he changed. 

Tsukishima Kei was an excitable kid, just as everyone was, but he was still snarky; his arrogance seemed to be something that just festered within his soul, no matter the trauma that brought it out. 

Childlike wonder is still alive and well at eight. 

The teacher you had back then was quite rude. She was pushy and angry, and she assigned way too much homework. Everything she uttered made you huff in disappointment, crossing your arms and hoping for some sort of reaction from someone. The kid next to you was named Koji--or, at least, that's what you called him. He was your best friend, spending every moment with you like you were siblings. You'd be able to crack a joke with the smallest glance and you’d talk constantly. As soon as your handwriting was legible to people of your age group, you'd pass notes back and forth and cackle at their contents. Until, of course,

“Tsukishima, will you switch seats with Kojikata today?” Your teacher sounded exhausted, huffing her sentence out on a sigh before going back to the multiplication tables on the board. Suddenly, your little world was interrupted.

“Y/N, right?” He didn’t look at you, placing his folders down on the desk and pushing his glasses back up as he sat. His words were hushed and quiet, but the class had moved into individual work--he wasn’t interrupting anyone.

“Yeah. Can I call you Tsukki?” You were angry, gripping your pencil tighter in your little hand as you wrote numbers down on white paper. One times one is one. Two times two is four. This is easy.

“No,” he was long doing the same thing, but writing quicker than you. That’s how it is, huh?

Three times two is six. Four times five is twenty. Six times three is eighteen. Five times six is thirty. This is easy-

“Miss, I’m done.” His voice was always so dry. Uninterested. 

Four times three is twelve. “Me too!” Your hand shot up with the paper in it, sending a death glare at the boy next to you.

That's how it is, huh?

This pattern continued for weeks. Tsukishima didn’t move from his seat next to you, as your teacher had made the realization that you worked far harder without friends around. Tsukishima lit a competitive fire under you; everything was now a race.

It started with handing in assignments. Who would go up to the front desk first to have their work checked over? Who would finish this quiz faster? Then it transferred into everything. 

Who would get to class faster? Who finished their lunch quicker? Who could read faster? Who scored higher on spelling tests? Who could run faster in gym class?

And then it was middle school.

Middle school brought in Yamaguchi Tadashi. 

It'd be an understatement to say he warmed to Yamaguchi quickly, but the basis behind that was strange. Tsukishima was never one for friends, even though everyone wanted to be friends with him. He was cool in the eyes of a handful of eleven year olds; letting everything roll off your back seemed to be an admirable trait. Yamaguchi worshipped him, and Tsukishima took him under his wing to teach him the ropes of being a cool kid.

At heart, though, Yamaguchi was kind and attentive. He could tell when things were going wrong, and supposedly it was him that changed the rest of your life.

The rivalry continued just as it had in elementary, just with higher stakes. You'd fight for answering questions first, working ahead of everyone else to just beat him. He’d never bat an eye at it, and sometimes you thought it was all over, but then

“Y/N.” Tsukishima Kei stood three steps behind you, looming over you with the height he was seemingly born with. The hallway was emptying by now, kids walking into their classrooms once again. The white floors rung with the quiet sounds of soft-bottomed shoes and a light above your head flickered calmly.

“Yeah?” You spun around to meet his gaze.

“What’d you get on that lit essay?”

“A 96. Why?”

“No reason,” he smirked and tilted his head up, looking down at you, “I got a 100.”

A huff and a stomp away gave him the answer he needed as he followed you into the classroom, sitting down behind you and next to Yamaguchi just as he did every day. The little shit.

Tsukishima was never better than you, technically speaking. On average and on paper, you were always both roughly the same. You'd fight for being top of the class, the position switching between both of you every day. You excelled in creative things while he excelled at sports, but both of you dabbled in the other. When people in your year began dating, everyone came to assume you two were. It was embarrassing, really, because Tsukishima Kei was a little shit know-it-all who will never beat me at anything ever and people need to stop thinking he will because he won’t I’m better than hi-

“Hey?” Oh right. Friends.

“Koji!” He never left, at least not yet. His nimble fingers tapping on your shoulder brought you back to reality, making you jump and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his body for a split second.

“You looked zoned” his face was riddled with concern that was easy to write off.

“Oh, whoops” a small blush heated your cheek as your hand migrated to rub your neck. “Did you want something?”

As you walked into the classroom a bit further, Koji sat on your right; he seemed to buckle down more when you had moved away from each other way back in the day, so there were less mid-class comedy shows. He grew up just as you had, and with the closeness of the two of you people began to think you were dating. At twelve, it was incredibly necessary to date someone--anyone. Theories bounced from everywhere and anywhere and with you it was either your best friend or your biggest rival. Your lack of attraction to either of them became the center of many late night crises. 

“Not particularly,” his gaze switched from you to the board again, beginning to write something down when he turned his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Of course I am,” you smiled at him, the kind of smile that made your eyes crinkle at the corners, and suddenly it was high school.

-

“Tsukishima is really cute! And he's smart, I heard that Kageyama wasn’t too bright somewhere.”

“But Kageyama’s so much hotter! His being a little dumb sometimes is endearing.”

“Are we not going to talk about that third year setter, Sugawara?”

“No, he’d never go for a first year. Besides, that Hinata kid is more of an enigma.”

“Have you even seen them play?” A howl of angry “yes”s fell over the crowd, trying to prove something. None of them had ever seen them play.

That asshole Tsukishima getting popular felt like a stab in the soul. None of them knew him or how much he sucked, but the amount of girls fawning over him was horrific.

-

There's something consistently poetic about young love, no matter where it comes from. Something extra sweet about holding pinkies in school corridors when no one is looking and seeing them every day, smiling loudly as the sun broke over the horizon all bright and early. The raging hormones and dumb, fake social hierarchies of fifteen make emotions run wild, and only the deeply immature end up helplessly infatuated. Others are more cautious, but there's only so many precautions one can take at fifteen. Sometimes some of us just want to be loved, no matter the sincerity of it.

Cared for, and whatnot. No harm in that, in the long run at least. 

“Y/N, right?” Her name was Mei. She was in your class; 1-4, just like Tsukishima. She was pretty. Long, black hair was preceded by two green streaks at the front. She’d always have those down, making her features look like a photo in a perfect frame. She had a collection of hair clips with small shapes on them that she’d have somewhere on her person at all times. Her more mid-sized body was paler than most, and she was covered in freckles and moles. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue that looked deep enough to swim in. Her cheeks were always stained with a peachy blush that moved up her collarbones and into her ears, making her look like she was always smiling no matter what her face was doing. Karasuno’s school uniform did wonders for her curves, the skirt swaying up on occasion and making her look so damn perfect.

“Yeah! You’re…” a second of dumbfounded pause felt like years in your mind, coming to the conclusion that she was the most beautiful girl you had ever met. “Ojiro Mei?”

“Yep! I just wanted to tell you you looked really pretty today!” Her voice always had an upward inflection, and was higher than most. It was cute. Incredibly cute.

“Oh.” A moment of confidence fell over you like you weren’t in control of your actions, “you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you very much,” she bounced back on her toes and then rolled back to her heels, hands intertwined behind her back, “You’re too kind, Y/N.” Her sentences were always punctuated with an eye-crinkling smile.

Later that day, you found her on every social media account you could; she messaged you first.

When you don’t know you’re interested in women, it’s hard to notice that they’re flirting with you, but after a handful of supposed gay panic, you asked her on a date.

She was two inches shorter than you, and somehow that persisted no matter what shoes she was wearing. Every small outing with her felt like cloud nine--watching the sunset, small conversation over tea at a nearby cafe, cuddling in your bedroom with only a string of Christmas lights on. She always looked so wonderful in soft lighting, the potential cold of winter disappeared with pale beiges that made her freckles look like stars. Every action Mei ever did was soft and full of care. She could send every single emotion through her fingertips on your jaw, deepening a kiss you started moments before. She was like magic, until she wasn't anymore.

You supposed, when thinking back, that things fell out around month thirteen. The rose colored lenses everything was viewed through faded a bit, and it's easy to notice her pulling away. There were less late night phone calls and less recommended music and less hands running through your hair. Everything has a natural progression to the end, right?

“Do you still feel it?” It was raining. Large drops of water fell down to the floor, smacking the pavement at speeds you couldn’t even try to measure. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat that looked almost dull in the four pm light. 

“Feel what?”

“Anything, baby.” All of her words ended with a huffed out sigh, like she was tired of something. Lying, maybe. 

You pondered the question, and it seemed like your hesitation gave her all the answer she needed.��

“Ya know, Y/N.” She looked down and grabbed your hands with hers, rubbing her thumbs on your palms as you grabbed around them. “This was fun. We had a good run.”

A solemn tear fell down your cheek at the ending, but there was no use in self pity or anger now. She was so sweet and kind, and it's truly unthinkable how she continued that kindness in the end.

“Yeah. A good run.” The pink in your cheeks grew as you choked out a laugh, pulling her in for one final hug under the dim fluorescent lights on the front door overhang of the school.

Fifteen came and went with love, and when sixteen rolled around you wondered if you’d ever be loved like that again.

-

A spirit can't be broken overnight, and if you’ve spent the last eight years of your life having a strong, consistent rivalry with someone, it won’t leave any time soon. Tsukishima and you were on similar playing fields for most of your life, but you had one thing he didn’t: relationship experience. In that way, you always counted yourself one point higher, like a boy scout badge. 

For a spell, however, your intensity changed. There was nothing more driving you than spite, and there was nothing you wanted more than to beat him. You were well into your second year of high school at this point, and--volleyball notwithstanding--you had wins over Tsukishima. You had seen him play volleyball, every match in his second year, and you deemed he was simply okay. You refused to count his success onto the list of wins for both of you.

June fifteenth. Tournaments were coming up around the corner when it happened, which explained every reason why he was there. You weren’t exactly prepared for the rain, so the best bet seemed to be sitting at the front entrance of Karasuno High School and wallowing in a little bit more self pity before you went home. You were just dumped after all, the tears weren’t done falling. 

The feeling between sadness and shame overflowed you, shades of yellowish green painting the world around you and churning your gut into oblivion. And the tears fell. It felt like a scene in a movie; in a few seconds, a strong, capable man would show up to your rescue.

“Y/N?” what the fuck?

He was sweaty. His face was matte from a light film of saltwater. He had a grey umbrella over his head, keeping himself dry from the still-pelting rain. His six-foot-two frame was covered with a black tracksuit, and he still had his sports goggles on.

Those fucking sports goggles.

“Tsukishima.” you deadpanned, trying to get him away as fast as possible. His words were snarky, as always, but this time laced with concern. Like he actually cared.

“What are you still doing here? It’s almost six,” he stood under the overhang with you, crouching to take a few feet off of his incredible height. 

“Sulking?”

“Ah,” he huffed and sat down next to you, “it’s not great for your posture, ya know.”

“Oh shut up, Tsukishima.”

“Remember when we were eight,” he looked up, studying the moths as they flew around the lights on the ceiling, “and you asked if you could call me Tsukki?”

“Vaguely, but we were eight.”

“Yeah, true” his head dramatically fell to his lap, staring at his knees as he chuckled, “but you can. Call me Tsukki, that is.”

An uncomfortable laugh fell from your lips, and he spoke for you, “this one kid, Koganegawa, the setter on Date Tech, calls me that too. It's not a Tadashi-only nickname anymore.”

“You say Tadashi-only like I wasn’t there first.”

“He never asked.”

“Would you have said no?”

“Probably” he hasn’t actually looked at you yet. 

“Should I not have asked?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Okay, Tsukki” you drew out the last letter, giggling at the situation before you had time to think about your emotions.

He noticed that you weren’t crying anymore and helped you stand, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. Tsukishima and you lived closer than you thought, walking the same direction and only splitting up seconds away from your home.

You walked in silence the whole time, but it was comfortable. While he was your rival, he was always a friend. There was nothing scary or intimidating about him, as is with most people when you’ve known them forever; it was almost like his facade just didn’t work on you. You were huddled close to him to stay out of the rain. 

The second you parted ways, you ran home. The rain was more of a drizzle now, but the temperature began a free fall--getting out of the cold as fast as possible was your first priority. Upon entering the front door and taking off your shoes and jacket, leaving everything to sit in the entryway, you took a shower. The rain didn’t do enough to wash away the pain of the day, and warm steam would let the rest evaporate. The expected unrelenting sadness wasn’t really present as much as was expected, though. Everything felt fine. Content. Okay.

-

And it continued that way. He sent you a snapchat asking if you had gotten home safely, which prompted a memory of you never giving each other your phone numbers. After a quick yes, tsukki. no need to worry ;), you sent him your number asking to play some game.

Whatever is meant to happen does, right? Any excuse for falling for him. You didn’t want to, of course, but things happen. Time changes. Thus, the excuses. Thus, the ignorance. Thus, the five stages of grief. 

It started with the denial, because no Y/N you can’t like Tsukishima Kei. He’s so competitive and mean and snarky and horrible and you hate him! Then, the anger, because Tsukishima sucks and he’s horrible and you’re going to punch him in his stupid cute face. Next, the bargaining, because please don’t let this be happening you’ll do anything to lose these feelings, even if it means letting him win at something. Going into the depression, because all you’ve ever wanted was to be free of this assclown and now you’re stuck thinking about him at three in the morning when you’re supposed to be dreaming about anything other than him. And finally, acceptance, when you scowl at him in the hallway because fuck, you like Tsukishima Kei.

The worst bit of acceptance is getting over it. Now you had to confront your feelings. Now you needed to tell him. 

It was roughly five months since he found you sulking on school grounds, and you regretted most days the way you let him text you every morning. It’d always be something stupid, like a joke about the novel you were reading in lit or sometimes he’d tell you, off hand, something dumb Hinata and Kageyama did at practice. Sometimes he’d text you, within the first twenty minutes of the school day, pointing out something little you did with your hair. They were never really compliments as much as comments; he’d say “your socks have a pink ring at the top” and give you nothing to work with from there. A simple yes would suffice, you always supposed, because “yes, tsukki. they do.”

He’d linger at his desk during the break between classes and would stay there if you didn’t leave, but would leave a few steps behind you if you did. He wouldn’t follow you, but he’d watch to know where you were going. Everything he did was concealed though--you'd only notice if you really wanted to know.

Yamaguchi was the only one to notice, even after a while of it. You’ll never know what he said to his friend, but the conversation you had with the aforementioned friend a day later gives some guesses.

“Y/N?” Tsukishima was never the shy type, and you knew him in the days where everyone was shy. He wasn’t loud, but he was bold. His words were always pointed and important. Everything he did always had purpose and intensity behind it.

“Tsukki?” You were sitting under a tree, enjoying the late spring weather of the beginning of your third year. Nothing became intense yet classwork wise, so there was ample time to chill on the school grounds. Overlooking the soccer field was a large oak tree. It was big enough to comfortably have multiple groups of people under its shade, but it was empty at the moment; save for you and the book you were reading.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to maybe go out sometime?” He somehow didn’t pause while talking, but his words came out more something akin to word vomit. You we’re more shocked than you should have been, if you had picked up on the signs. But you were feeling the same as he was, as far as you could tell.

“Sure, when?” You looked back down at your book for a second, placing the bookmark in it and folding the pages shut.

Tsukishima looked dumbfounded, standing there with his eyes bugged out and his mouth slightly agape. He started making unintelligible babbling noises, hoping to get something out that had any meaning at all. You took the reins instead, gaining confidence in his lack thereof.

“I was planning on getting coffee or something today after school. It gets really cold at night now, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Would you like to join me?”

“There's a break before practice today so” he hesitated, letting the pink in his cheeks finally catch up to the beating in his chest. “Sure.”

You wouldn’t have ever pegged Tsukishima Kei as the flustered type.

-

There was never a drop in conversation, as there never really was between you two. A whole life together and you still had things to talk about, mentioning everything from your individual childhoods to recent developments. Turns out he never knew what genre of books were your favorite. Or what kind of music you listened to. Or what any of your hobbies were. 

Turns out you both had more in common than you thought, competitive spirits notwithstanding. Tsukishima Kei was a strange man in every sense of the word. He was arrogant and snarky and disinterested and bright and passionate and smart. He was your rival, smug look plastered on his smug face making your chest bubble in anger just as it had a million times before--or was that admiration this time? The world may never know. 

All that was real right now was the deck of cards on the table, being separated out into a card game both of you learned as kids. The small, round, cafe table shook with every slap of your hands, but the basis of your relationship would always be competition. It's just that now the anger behind that competition was gone. All that was left was admiration. 

[yeoldontknow]

🖊writerly conversation tag

tagged by @j-pping to do this amazing interview/reflections tag. of course she put together one of the most amazing tags ever because she is brilliant. thank you for tagging me angel! 

questions below the cut!

2020

what was the most challenging part of writing this year?

gosh...i think for me the hardest bit was staying both motivated and inspired. a lot of my inspiration comes from being out in the world. im an introvert but i enjoy being out in the city around the noise and the people and the buildings on my own. the majority of my writing used to be done while riding the subway or on a weekend after id gone out somewhere. a lot of my fics are inspired by locations, and experiences within those locations. being inside for the majority of the year made it hard for me to remember how...people interact with or relate to the spaces around them. so i felt like a lot of the time staying inspired was coming from places within just me that felt inauthentic. i think my writing benefits from my ability to see multiple perspectives, so i felt like a lot of dialogue or writing itself was suffering just coming from me alone. it took a lot of work to ensure that it wasnt like that. 

and then, motivation was also so hard. the internet and the news and everything about america, the planet, the everything was unrelenting and draining. we as people were privy to so much trauma this year, to the collapse and fracture of communities, lives, governments. there were several weeks at the end of may and into june where i just...couldnt. i had no energy for anything. it happened again in november after the election and the windfall of it. energetic tensions were so high it just felt so hard to push out words when things were breaking everywhere. like there were more important things i needed to focus on, and healing was one of them.

what was the most enjoyable/rewarding part of writing this year?

i enjoyed the new community of writers/friends i found by writing for bts again. they challenged me and pushed me to better myself. @jamaisjoons is so inspirational in the way she generates community and encourages relationships between storytellers. doing the summer bucket list pushed me out of my hermit hole for camp nano, and i cranked out molotov cocktail and felt so proud of it. it mattered so much to me because it was the first long thing id written after a period of feeling deceased, and it was so enjoyable because there was a sense of community around it. its easy to forget how essential having a support system in your creative community is.

what piece has left the most impact on you and why?

probably ciperion. words cannot express how proud i am of that story and the direction its going in. i read it back sometimes and i realize that my writing was elevated because of that piece. tbh molotov was responsible for that lift, but ciperion was just a whole other tier. ive also never written anything like that story before and it felt so good exploring the themes of seafaring and pirates. 

what have you learned about yourself through the process of writing in the past year?

that i absolutely am someone who took for granted how inspiring the world is even if i see it as a stressor. but also that writing isnt necessarily about being inspired. its about pushing on when its hard. some of my best pieces came from that kind of push this year. 2020 felt like...a slog through most of it, but i kept pushing myself to write even when i was low and tired. i realized that some of my best writing comes from that push, when its not easy and when its difficult and i have to think harder. thats where i grow. 

how has your writing changed in the past year? how have you grown?

i think im more syntax and detailed focused than i used to be. lately ive been experimenting with making the act of reading feel like pleasure. my favourite books are the ones where i read a sentence, and im moved because it felt nice to read or it felt powerful. the sentence itself had power, not the image it was trying to convey. somehow separate, if that makes sense. theres a lot i need to learn before i could go off comfortably and try to write a book, and this is what ive been trying to master. my attention to detail has grown, and sometimes i think thats a detriment. i think sometimes im too detailed and i dont leave my reader enough power on their own. im still finding that balance, but i think im pleased right now with what im trying to push myself to master.

2021

ignoring your wips for a second, if you had all the time and energy in the world to write your magnum opus piece, what would it be about? why is that the dream story you’d write, all other things controlled for?

ive had two books in my mind forever. one was originally being written as a fanfic in a different fandom before i stopped and realized its too big and so much more important, and is worth being a book id like to write. if i wrote an opus like this it would actually be a book id submit to publishers but ~

- hundreds of years in the future, society has learned how to cure most diseases. for those we cannot, the sick person can be cryogenically frozen for a period of time until a cure is found. there is, however, a limit to the length of time they are frozen. no one has ever been frozen for over 100 years, and the main character is a scientist embarking on the experiment to do just that. it is, effectively, time travel. the main character is rash, selfish, sarcastic - not a very nice person; invested in their work and science and little else. they freeze themselves and wake up in the future. during their time in rehab they have to confront the horror theyve made of themselves, the horror people have made of the future, learn to be vulnerable. they end up falling in love with another scientist etc etc. theres so much more to this story and the world is enormous. one day ill revisit it

- a fictional play on orpheus in the underworld where a female main character’s brother was sold by their mother to the goddess of the underworld (helena instead of hades) for eternal youth. the gods all live in a hotel (the concept of this main thing is being used in elysian fields but its not remotely the same) after they were removed from the heavens. main character (ophelia) must gather several totems from the gods to prove her worth and survive her trip into the underworld to rescue him. id like to not focus on a woman finding romance, and instead a woman finding herself, her strength, her devotion to family, her power, and connecting with her history.

how do you want to grow in your writing this year?

this year id like to find balance, like i mentioned above, with my need for detail and my trust in my readers. the balance between detail and dialogue. i want to try to condense my writing again so not everything is a goddamn series. the ideas i have are huge and thats great but i need to remember how to parse things again, while still maintaining impact.

what’s one thing you’d wish to see in the fan-writing community this year?

i want more community, in general. as a multi fan, i see pockets in the kpop fandom where it exists and im well and truly aware that its recently become incredibly hard to foster on the exo side. ill just say that. maybe i dont witness it or its happening amongst blogs i havent found or have not found me. i want to see less dialogue about ‘popular blogs,’ whatever that means; less focus on notes; less worries about statistics. i want people to remember that fandom is not about numbers, and the moment you make it about that is the moment you stop having fun. i want less fear from writers regarding sharing work they read and liked, less shame around it. i want to see more vocal communication for the things people like and don’t like, more engagement and more interaction. the concept of popular blogs is so ridiculous to me, because no one has any control over the metrics. no one has control over who follows them or reads their work except the person doing the actual reading. i want people to realize they hold so much power - a person with 10k notes has as much power as a person with 2 notes because sharing is what fosters community. i want this fandom to remember to share again.

name one new thing you want to try doing in your writing this year.

gosh i really love postmodernism in writing. think like mark z danielewski, who plays with the shapes of words or the act of holding a book - the physicality of it. id like to maybe write a choose your own adventure, or do something that encompasses multiple platforms. or even, more importantly, finish as still as sound and time runner. those are more reasonable goals. time runner actually is done, i just need to stop pressuring myself about it and edit it to get it up. asas, too, is largely done i just need to get my ass together. i have so many other ideas no one has ever seen i need to finish what ive started. thats a real goal.

tagging: @yehet-me-up @jamaisjoons @kyungseokie @jenmyeons @luffles424 @yoonia @shadowsremedy @chillingkoo @onherwings @inkedtae @ninibears-erigom @imdifferentshadesofpurple @readyplayerhobi @ditzymax @sugaurora @snackhobi @yeojaa @sahmfanficbts @xjoonchildx @johobi and anyone else who wants to do this. as always please only do so if comfortable or you want to!

[macklives]

session 92 end (bye 413...)

this session was so long but so fucking hectic what the fuck

im going to try and slim it down to its bare essentials rather than go on a full rant because im pretty sure i want to make a post later on about vriska’s characterisation (not anything about me liking her/disliking her, just an analyse on her life really, so it wont be too bias because thats not the point of an analysis. i also want to do one on aradia, been meaning to for a while... hmm... damn i havent done much analogies lately, and i THINK the last long post on a character i made was about davesprite??? so its been a fucking while. that being said, ill leave a lot of details out for this end of session notes so i dont just repeat myself later on. rather will keep to plot points here and then make character points in another)

alright

first we had a page or two where aradia confided in nepeta about her being dead which means nepeta is the only one to know this revelation. im pretty sure aradia confided because there was no other way around it, since nepeta was her server player, so it was inevitable. either way, aradia still put her trust in nep, which means, if you think about it, nobody else knows and nobody else ever will. and considering aradia asked nep to keep it a secret, it probably wont get explored by others until MAYBE later on, whenever its plot relevant, so everyone will be in the dark about it for a while which ill have to remember for future dialogue and scenes with aradia in them

then we met vriska

which, yes, is a meme. i may not have been on a lot of fandom platforms, but you cant escape some of the stuff that goes around the internet. even if you dont know undertale, im pretty sure you know of sans. or komaeda if you have/havent seen danganronpa. its just.. the memes, ya know? ive heard from many sources of the “vriska did nothing wrong” quote (even through mbmbam which??? WHAT) but since i didnt even know what it meant, i never explored it so then i never knew it was a homestuck thing. imagine my surprise...... i think even at the time, i wouldnt have known what homestuck was either honestly so it wouldnt even matter. i only recently learned about the fandom.... uhh, maybe half a year ago??? yeah, august, so my knowledge was slim but vriska is a thing ive heard before, which still shocks me

goddammit

anyways back to her

so her intro was something, we pretty much found out she likes DnD (a FANATIC in fact) and feeds her lusus the flesh of living trolls. which is fucked up. but i wont get too much into detail about that until i make a post about her life on alternia and the consequences of such. or maybe just alternia in general...?? or *both* heheheh but i feel i need more information before i go off on a tangent about that

then we met??? white text dude?? who is a major asshole but an asshole with insults that hURted, to think i felt bad for VRISKA when that happened. woah.

i said before, but... karkat, he cant really hit deep because his insults are just HIM and his way to express himself. like some people find it natural to just go “FUCK YOU” to show emphasis on a point, and thats just karkats way. he may do it so aggressively that it takes you a second to realize what he said, but usually i dont take anything to heart whenever he spurts out some insults. ive progressed to the point where whatever he says, is just “karkat” and not him trying to be actively mean. rather, its now funny whenever he does say anything SOMEWHAT creative, dude has an imagination that goes on for miles

but vriska?? she IS trying to be a bully, you can tell. but i feel theres something much more to that. like shes trying to prove herself and her “blueblooded” demeanours or whatever the hierarchy is. she doesnt want to show emotions so she makes herself a barrier by being mean is what i can gather from her conversation with kanaya. im pretty sure youre not supposed to understand her until its pointed out and rather see her as an “antagonist” at first, but yeah, her insults are more pitiful than anything and i also cant take her too seriously. i may not like her as a person but her character is interesting because you cant always have the goodie two shoes as the protags. it doesnt diversify the characterisation so i like vriska as someone who makes the plot work and it becomes more interesting since you have someone that makes it harder for the main crew to progress. a happy-go-lucky adventure with no trouble and no turnabouts would be boring in a way. so having a character like vriska, or like this new white text guy, it makes you stop for a second and realize oh shit okay, here’s where shit CAN go wrong and WHY. and i do especially like it when these bastards of characters somehow have more depth than being the “bastard characters”. kinda humanizes them in a way. doesnt mean you have to LIKE them continuously, but theyre humans (trolls whatever) in the end and every person has their own story whether its for better or for worse

for example, i like her being placed into the story, along with white text, by how its all leading to this “accident” and is slowly showing us hints on what happened, but in the end, it wont be until later that we know the full story. even if it was in the past, it apparently is very vital to the plot and shapes how the characters act in the future, so important aspects like that are to look out for. and usually they only occur when theres been some trouble within friend dynamics. so without these bastard of characters, plot wouldnt grow AS strong and i often keep that in mind when i explore a story.

anyways, I HAD A POINT TO THIS: so vriska and karkat are characters who are yes, mean, but it seems to be their personality, and the way they either show emotions and convey feelings (karkat) or make a barrier so they DONT show emotions to produce vulnerability (vriska), white text guy seems to mostly be out to be an asshole. he told vriska she was useless to sum it up but im not too sure if this is one of those “first dialogue” to mould out a bias opinion before we even get to the character themselves, but judging by how vriska and karkat played out, he surely means something bad and i dont know how to explain it. but i cannot base anything off from one piece of dialogue. i dont even know what else to call him other than white text guy so...... ill just leave that out for now, until we finally get his introduction

though, i do wish to mention, and will expand on, im not wrong when i say karkat and vriska are similar but in different context. sorry if youre favourite is karkat and you dont like vriska, or vice versa, but uhhhh their introductions are so similar its uncanny and the way they’re portrayed is the same except one is more on crack about the meddling, while the other is angry about the meddling. similar to how it was with karkat, we were introduced to vriska talking with someone we knew (tavros) whom she obviously didnt like, so obviously, from her point of view, she wanted to be menacing. like how karkat was menacing to jade because she wouldnt listen to his point... he got angry, so he lashed out. but us, the readers, didnt know that. we thought “oh god its this asshole” until we made it further in the story and started to warm up to karkat. it may not be the same with vriska, she may be a bully regardless, but you cannot tell me we moulded a bias towards her character as we did when we first read karkat. theyre both truly mean to other people, maybe both for different reasons, but i do want to point out the similarities and not leave that out. im pretty sure andrew basically gave us a conversation that formed our opinion of a character right off the bat rather than go into depth of WHY they did it, and how they are naturally without the conditions of the game. which, you can also see with vriska when she conversed with kanaya. andrew started off with a character who only appears to speak once, and makes you judge them from first appearance alone, without any explanation as to why they said what they said and how they are with other characters, let says. so you assume they were simply a rude character. now look how karkat turned out. so im guessing in homestuck, the first impression should never be the opinion you stick with until MAYBE 5 more conversations with that character (each one different)

OKAY done with the vriska introduction, now to slutquius

yes, hes kinda weird, i have stated that many times. i have no idea what to say about him other than he likes porn, he likes centaur dick which just so happens to be his lusus as well and if that isnt a red flag idk what is

he also likes his lusus milk, right from the udders of his guardian

fun times, fun times

my opinion of equius kinda.. differs. which i should really put in place the “dont judge by first impression” rule, because at first i thought he was rude with, then i thought he was hhh okay, because i understood why he was being so protective over nepeta and her team placement, since the people she was going to play with WERE dangerous. but if you think about it, both sides will probably put you in danger. it just depends on which ones you confide in more to protect your back rather than those which would cause trouble on purpose, in my HONEST opinion. so equius was a little overdramatic on that part, but i got what he meant. he was on the blue team and he didnt want to leave nepeta alone without him on the red. but then this session happened. and he went back to being weird again because of the whole porn thing, especially being so open about it like dude chill youre 13. but the thing is, then i felt bad for him because hes basically touch starved. to say that he could break anything he touches, i doubt people would go up to him for hugs. in fear they would be crushed to death by a simple hug. so im guessing hes rather lonely and doesnt really know how to interact because of this. so i felt sad that he had to live a life where he needs to be careful of everything he touches so it doesnt break randomly. see? poor dude. but then things got weird. and im pretty sure hes a masochist. so my opinion on equius is a fucking cosine graph

which brings us to the final point:

gamzee and equius’ conversation

i dont even know.....like.........gamzee was unaware that equius was using him for his own power play roleplay, right? gamzee knew it was a roleplay but it had had some.. idk.... obvious sexual implications? and i bet gamzee didnt really know that? he thought they were only venting out through a simple roleplay and trying to get closer because he originally thought equius hated him, considering equius flat out said “i hate you” and gamzee went “you tell me everyday and im okay with that” so.. gamzee probably wanted only to get closer to equius so he helped out his little problem which.. thats so sweet but i feel bad he was coerced into something he didnt get, especially since he was innocent enough to go along without knowing equius’ true gain

anyways, equius was getting off with the hierarchy thing. considering he’s “lower” than gamzee, and gamzee is surprisingly ...high on the spectrum??? so equius wanted gamzee to boss him around, because it felt only natural to him since he’s the “inferior one” and gamzee is The Big Man. like i get that, but it was written in a way that was so uncomfortable, that i wish i didnt. equius is just a weird character... hes not BAD per say, but hes... hes something alright

but im really liking gamzee. the two things which struck me in that one conversation, was the “i dont get why we should dictate people by the colour of their blood, i just see people as people” piece of dialogue and “i cant go around pleasing just everything so its alright if you hate me”

thats... so good, idk. i really liked that. i also really liked when kanaya said “youre dangerous but dangerous people are needed and are important because it shapes you” like <33 my fucking heart

god homestuck may be a tad on the weird side with some of its characters but it surely knows how to create great lines of dialogue

and that concludes the long 4 hour session i did, hope you all enjoyed it

with that, i rest

[madeintimeland]

im oversharing this got long sorry. just reminscing on shit ive thought about a million times over again

theres so much art i want to create and so little motivation. i should start smoking weed again bc every time im high i get my best ideas or at least like, it takes away the layer of film over my brain that stops me from being able to come up with creative ideas, but also im scared its going to send me into mental hell again. like i need to be in a perfect state for it lest i fear im going to invoke my months long existential crisis again and i Cannot be doing that shit rn. but also i wonder if its going to be worth it anyways if i can create something to leave on this earth again. like ive been so bad at creativity lately like i want to draw and produce things and im bubbling over with energy and i feel the ideas fermenting in the deep recesses of my brain like theyre nestled into the grooves and folds but i cant access them yet. and i know i can if im stoned. i might turn into a hermit hunched over my tablet all hours of the day just making shit tbh. i absorb so much of the things around me and i know if i try to make something now its going to basically be direct copies of the things i saw but if im high im sure i can actually create something new and beautiful. im scared of being intoxicated again but i was scared to drink again too and i got drunk and proceeded to love it and want to drink every single day because surprise surprise i have alcoholism coded into my dna and consequentially have an addictive personality in general. which is why i felt like my life was useless without weed. all up until i was finally able to get my hands on a stash that would let me smoke whenever i want versus when i would get a small amount every couple of months and completely and utterly fail at ratioing it out and binge it all and then have ridiculously introspective trips where id start to go a little crazy at the end (i have a distinct memory of looking at a meme that had a woman on it and thinking ‘jesus christ... what the fuck is that’ and then spiraled into thinking about how life is pointless but i didnt have enough weed to continue with that train of thought and if i did i may have had my crisis a lot earlier, it was just inevitable) i just felt like being high was the only time i could actually get in touch with my inner self again. like i used to before the thick clouds of depression and psychosis settled in. but then i finally was able to get high for longer than short bursts of time and it all came to a head where my brain broke and i have existential terror now that i feel im going to not be able to deal with confronting again. but every time i say that it never ends up staying permanently, it comes in waves, it all comes in waves. back and forth. i feel beauty in life and then i feel fear. i feel like its all worth it and then i cant stop thinking about the inevitable heat death of the universe and the pointlessness of it all. and then i get a hug or listen to a really good song and i feel like its worth it again. i wonder if this is just a period in my life im not a total stoner or if its actually permanent. anyways point is i want to make so much stuff that my hands ache and my brain rots when i think about how many things inspire me. thats why my aesthetic tag is #inspiration, its been like that for many years now, its stuff that inspires me. but at what point am i going to turn that inspiration into reality? im bad at initiative. my initiative is going to be when i pick up the pot again because im too lethargic and procrastinatey to create the things i want any other time. but when will that be? i cant see a therapist or anything rn and working it out on my own has been mildly successful, not bad, im not spending every single day in terror like i was at this point last year. it started all going away around august after starting in march. march 30th in fact. from then on its been a constant battle with dissociation. funny because just earlier in march was some of the best experiences of my life. i think if lockdown never happened this never would have happened either but at the same time im left wondering how anybody can go through their life without wondering about the meaning of it all and coming out the other side with purpose and resolve. mine was to enjoy myself and find as much beauty and love in life as i can before i die and enhance the lives of the people around me while i can because i feel too small to do anything on a grander scale. and im fine with that, for the most part, but i still get attacked by these waves of thought where i wonder what the purpose of reality is . i always have to smack myself and remind myself no dumbass you already went over this a million times, just enjoy yousrelf while youre here. but when im high its a million times worse cuz the only time i can get my mind off it is when im replacing it with horny thoughts and thats not the only thing i wanna do when im high ofc i want to experience and create and listen to music. but i mean i havent smoked since june. i think the 15th ? i could go back and read my journals to tell exactly when it was but yeah its been almost a year now and i feel like i might have it in me again. i used to love getting high and working on shit so much. some of my best works and most  creative projects and honestly just most enjoyable periods of my life were when i was high. going back to what i was saying about early march 2020 being the best time of my life, idk what it was about me but i was just having a grand old time experiencing absolute beauty playing ark with my friends, feeling so creative and developing new ideas and experiences, and using the freedom and motivation i felt ingame to also want to explore the world irl. i seriously was close to actually finally reading my survival manual and start camping and shit and i wanted to visit my relatives in their hella secluded farmhouse in the middle of fuck nowhere kansas, cuz i did visit there during that time period and i loved it to death, i felt so free. two different relatives actually and they both had that same aesthetic about them. of course they were horribly racist but i mean, thats rural kansas for you. i just wanted to camp in their woods. its funny because that month was simultaneously the best and worst of my life. all because of weed! if i never started smoking or rather never found a reliable source at that point in my life i wonder how i wouldve turned out? id like to chalk this up to fate that im like this, maybe its for the best, maybe smoking again wont help me but maybe it will. i have a way to ease myself back into it i just need that leap of faith and  bravery like i felt when i was drinking again. its funny because i used to be such a fucking druggie and i wanted to get high all the time and then after my existential crisis that all just. stopped. i feell ike everyone i know is sick of me talking about it but it really fundamentally changed me on the inside even if it doesnt seem like it much on the outside so i feel its right of me to talk about it sometimes. it makes me feel better at least. like this is jsut a thing t hat happened, not a fated break from the universe i cant come back from yknow? i dunno. ive rambled on way too fucking long and idk if anyones gonna read this. tldr i want to draw and create so many things and i have too many ideas to deal with but i only feel ill be able to unlock my creativity and motivation if im high but due to bad past experiences im terrified to get high again. i mean ive done and made some pretty cool stuff since then but the motivation and ideas are much fewer and far between compared to the absolute deluge i get when im stoned , whether any of my ideas are actually any good or if they were just high ramblings is up to debate but i think it gave me a really good way of looking at things and i made some pretty cool stuff and i miss it a lot but i dont know if going back to it is going to be a mistake or not and im not brave enough to find out if itll hurt me again or if im ready. yyyyaaaayyyyy hahahaha ✌

[fayepratas]

I didn’t die, and I’m actually okay with it. On New Year's Day, 2018, I tried to kill myself.  I had been out partying all night. At 5am I came home, drank some more, and partied alone. Who needed people? Fuck. The kids were due back in ten minutes. I texted their dad. ‘Don't bring them here’, I said, ‘They're better with you. I can’t look after them’. I finished the Gin bottle and took all the tablets I had in the cupboard. I laid on the sofa and waited for every emotion and feeling to leave my body forever.

I woke in hospital. A neighbour had noticed my back door open and came to check in on me. I cried when I woke. I had failed.

35 years I've existed on this planet. I say existed, because living is not accurate enough a word to describe what I've been doing. And in that time, it’s pretty fair to say that I've experienced a few obstacles! I mean there has been the teen suicide attempt, two teen pregnancies, the estrangement of my adoptive parents, the marriage, the divorce, the attempt at a university degree, the toxic relationship, the second suicide attempt, the ten years (on and off) drug and alcohol abuse, the second attempt at a university degree, the meeting (and eventually loss of contact) of a birth parent, the mental breakdown, the death of a birth parent, the third attempt at a degree, further drinking problems... did I miss anything? Yeah, I did, but I think you get the general gist. One absolute catastrophe after another.

And for the longest time I thought it was inevitable that my life be full of adversity. The start wasn’t great. I was known to social services before birth, and though I've learned since that my mother had a deeply caring beautiful soul, she was a terrible caregiver. It would kill her to read this, because I think she always felt a deep regret. The heroin addiction; the neglect of my three brothers and I; The physical and emotional abuse... I don’t know if she ever admitted it to herself, and I certainly didn’t appreciate the fact until I was a late teen, but us being removed from her care really was the best thing for us.

So, why, at 35 years old, am I recounting such horrific events? Why, if saved from such awful circumstances, did I still face the kinds of events that I can only imagine would have been waiting for me if I had stayed with her? For the longest time I did not understand. And then one day it hit me like a bullet train. I was my mother. The mental health, the drug abuse, the inability to just be ‘normal’. This ‘revelation’ came to me on the downward spiral of a mental breakdown. I was working a job I loved, and I was working damn hard. So hard, in fact, that I didn’t notice that I was spending the majority of my day highly anxious, and the desire to eat was alien to me, and sleep? Forget it. My one and only goal was to be the absolute best person for the role that I could be. I couldn’t think about anything else. God, I loved that job, but man did I neglect and abuse my body. I know it now but didn’t then, that really, I was just desperate not to be anything like her. Ironically in doing so, it led me to the biggest mental breakdown and one of the heaviest drinking periods of my life. And then came the suicide attempt.

That was three years ago. And since then something in me has changed. It's like all of a sudden life is beginning to make some kind of sense. Only, on true reflection, it actually hasn't been all of a sudden. I’ve been constantly battling and learning and growing. Tiny baby steps. Each week, or month, with a new challenge, and me taking it on head first. And now more recently I feel like I'm starting to really tune in with my body, physically, emotionally and spiritually. It's almost like Ive done the learning, and now it's time to look inside and ask myself the big question. The really hard question. The question most people avoid. And if they don’t avoid it, they rarely go further than fantasising about far away possibilities, full of wonder but always just too far away to grab...

What is my purpose?  why am I (still) here?

I cannot understate this enough when I say, but knowing the reason why I was put here is the most mystifying question I have ever asked myself. I have always acted like life is something that has just happened to me, because I truly thought I was powerless to influence the course of any of the events that made me feel that I did not have a place in this world. I just swallowed everything in big gulps, like it was somehow hereditary, and inevitable. Of course I'd fantasised about future goals and dreams, don’t we all? But those 'up there' ideas stayed just there. I sometimes lied and told myself that  i could reach for them anytime i chose, but eventually the passion and drive to pursue anything just fizzled out. But if, like they say, I am the star of my own block buster Hollywood movie,  why am I acting like an extra in a low budget production that I don't even like? And that got me thinking... does it have to be like this? Or....could I change the course of my life? would I dare to even attempt to turn everything I have always 'known' to be true about life on its head? Is it possible that with knowledge of the body, and the mind, I could change my entire perspective on life and on the situations and circumstances that i find myself caught up in? To see pure joy where there was none? To be creative where I thought I was void?

Well, I think I'm finally ready to hear what life has been quietly whispering to me all of these years. To know why, despite my attempts, the universe still sees fit to keep me here. And through a gained understanding of myself, maybe I can discover what it is I am here to do. Find what unique gift I have that the world might need. Why I have persisted in a world that I was conviced was conspiring against me. Okay world, I surrender! Teach me everything. And let us begin creating the life I could only dream of...

Faye P.

[transrightsjimin]

i just hate how im doing nothing exciting for most of my life now like... yeah i used to go to concerts a few times a year i guess but i cant do that now but i sure am not doing anything else thats fun or productive or challenging either :( im not rly drawing, barely make any posts w photos i made, didnt watch any content i couldve gotten from weverse membership despite it costing so much, i dont look for jobs regularly, i dont call back to health organizations or just weeks late, i deactivated my etsy and idk if ill ever re-open it again bc it seems like such a hassle nd requires better quality and a greater audience which i cant get as long as i never fucking draw nor post shit, i still havent watched mots on:e, i gave up on trying to learn basic words w duolingo months ago, my room is such a fucking mess soon after having cleaned it and it just feels so futile to keep cleaning when i have no energy for it, im still nowhere w the improvement of my sleeping schedule i was meant to make, i often dont feel much excitement abt music as i would love to or feel expected to when someone asks me abt a cb, i rly struggle w showering regularly despite being on the verge of turning sick bc my back nd neck r so cold from dried up sweat after working, nd im just frustrated bc i feel like drawing, dancing etc, just creative stuff tht can be a stress-reliever seem only possible once i finally have a more structured daily life and dont need to worry this fucking much abt an income or when i might have a bit more energy / focus / better executive functioning which is like never to me rn. i miss talking to my friends nd i want to watch stuff together online but friends r burdened too w their own struggles or have no time / our schedules dont align well at all and have shitty internet nd i do watch bts stuff and kpop videos in general w my best friend but he doesnt rly emote much to / nags on things he doesnt care for that much bc autism, nd i shouldnt complain abt this either bc im the same, nd i shouldnt force him to watch stuff w me either :(( i just wish i could watch this stuff w a friend who's more interested but still doesnt have like super intense energy or smth. i did use to meet up w a friend who lives in this city but i havent spoken to her in a while bc she eventually just stopped responding to tweets i sent her in DMs and idk why shes not responding bc she always says shes lonely but then ignores my messages since a few months, like initially bc she said she didnt like the idea of meeting up w friends even at a distance, which i get i guess, but then i saw she did go on trips nd whatnot w her friends but i guess those are herhousemates. god urgh i sound so bitter but i just feel so stuck on every aspect nd no its not bc of the fucking pandemic bc ive been in this boring place for most of my life nd the only person who can get me out is myself, if only i TRIED more to do something unknown even if it scares me or TRY to contact someone immediately before i forget or TRY to force myself to think abt other stuff than my special interests too bc i cant get any fucking shit done as long as im not incorporating these tasks into my everyday life.

[softyhyunjin]

first ⌲ bang chan

Description: You always come first.

⇥ genre: bestfriend au, college au, love triangle, angst, fluff                       

⇥ pairing: chan x reader                                                                              

⇥ word count: 9.7k

a/n: @changbeanie  are you happy now lmao

i. 

“Hey, remember how we met in English?”

The campus was semi lifeless and you were both late to class. It was a bad idea to get ice cream during the passing period because Thursday was the busiest day of the week for the both of you. You had just came out from your chemistry lecture while Minho had just finished his contemporary dance lecture. You met him at the usual spot: the ice cream truck by the bell tower in the middle of campus.

Knowing Minho, he would want to get ice cream right after he got out of dance, and make you wait in line with him. You guess it wasn’t too bad since you wanted some too…

“How can I take the time to remember how we met when we’re late for class? You could’ve waited to get ice cream after we finish math,” you stressed, taking another bite of your vanilla ice cream.

“Says the one who’s almost done with their ice cream,” Minho chuckled, nodding over to your ugly bitten waffle cone.

Actually, you could recall your first encounter with Minho. You remembered bumping into him on the first day of class last year, but it was his fault for not paying attention. Minho had his schedule in one hand and the campus map in the other. You were prepared for your classes because you took a look around campus a couple days prior to when the term began. Minho just liked to do things very last minute.

Minho happily licked the creamy pink swirl in his sugar cone, taking his sweet time to indulge the milky strawberry flavor. He chose to prioritize food over changing into clean clothes. His outfit wasn’t bad. It was just a black t-shirt along with a pair of black sweatpants, but there was no point in carrying a duffle bag filled with clean clothes if he wasn’t going to change into them.

You noticed how the beads of sweat on the sides of his face were slowly making its way down to his jawline. Your attention was suddenly on his neck. When Minho spoke, you watched how his adam’s apple would bob up and down. How insanely attractive, and he’s a dance major, you thought, eyes widening once you realized what had just happened.

Those kinds of thoughts never came to your mind, and they shouldn’t at all.

“Something on my face?” He questioned, pointing at himself. Bothered with what had just happened, you pulled out the napkin you were saving in your pocket for later but gave it to Minho instead.

“Just wipe your stupid face.”

ii. 

“Have you ever tried fried chicken with vegemite?”

“Just because I’m Australian doesn’t mean I put vegemite on everything, Y/N,” Chan stretched from his seat, “I think it’s time for a study break.”

“Can you-“

“Yes, I’m going to order chicken in a minute. Just let me grab my phone and we can have it with Sprite, okay?” He chuckled at your eagerness.

Your brain was fried from all that studying. Chemistry is no joke. The midterm was coming up, and you couldn’t take the chance of putting off your academics till last minute. When you were feeling lazy, you realized how lucky you were to be stuck with Chan for another four years so that he could push you to do work. Also, he’s always hard working and on top of his shit. That means you could always go to him when you needed help, and he could never refuse when it came to you.

“Okay,” he said after getting off his phone, “They said it would take up to forty minutes, and I ordered extra radish cubes too.”

Bringing your palms to your cheeks, you pressed them and stared at Chan with so much adoration in your eyes. “Thank you, Chan,” you whispered.

Grimacing, he said with disgust written all over his face, “Don’t do that, it’s gross.”

You scowled at your best friend. When your stomach growled loudly, Chan laughed at how pitiful you looked. “Chan, what do we do for forty more minutes?” You pouted.

“What else, Y/N? Study, duh.”

You pretended to not hear that, asking again, “Huh? What should we do for forty more minutes?”

Chan placed his hands on his hips and gave you a hard eye roll. Then, he waddled into the kitchen and came back with a miniature sized jar known to be the most despicable spread on earth. “Why don’t you spread some vegemite on toast and just eat it?”

You crossed your arms, refusing to look at him and the jar of vegemite, “You’re disgusting, get that away from me!”

“You’ve never even tried it. Stop basing its taste off of shitty reviews from Youtubers. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes.”

A light bulb lit in Chan’s head. He snickered at the creative idea he came up with, “I’ll put the spread on different foods in my fridge and pantry. Then, you guess what I combined the vegemite with. How’s that?”

That was actually not a bad idea. It’s either studying until the chicken comes or fool around, and you really did not want to look at chemical equations anymore.

“Fine, but don’t go easy on me,” you grinned.

“Don’t count on it.”

For the next half hour, you both took turns blindfolding each other. You regret going too easy on him with the combination of chocolate and vegemite, apples with vegemite, and kimchi with vegemite. On the other hand, Chan had no mercy when it came to feeding you his disturbing concoctions. He was having the time of his life when he combined the spread with a slab of American cheese, a dried anchovy, and a banana.

They weren’t even paired separately, he combined them all at once.

“You’re lucky I didn’t get sick from your disgusting combinations,” you said angrily with a mouthful of chicken.

“If you didn’t feel well, I could’ve had this all to myself,” he waved a piece of chicken that was shaped like a fat boot.

“Hey, can you do me a solid?”

Taking a huge gulp from the Sprite bottle, Chan cocked an eyebrow. “What is it this time?”

“Can you help my friend and I study? We’re a little rusty with calculus, but I promise you that it won’t be as tiring as it is with chemistry.”

“Do I get paid?”

“I’ll get you a whole fried chicken, all yours Chan. How’s that?” You know for a fact that he could not say no. A whole fried chicken was on the line and free of charge. An addict like him would do anything for chicken, even if it meant suffering for a couple hours with you. Licking off the grease and crumbs on the edges of his lips, Chan hummed. You knew he caved in the moment you mentioned something free.

“You really know how to do business. Throw in some radish cubes and it’s a deal,” Chan raised his hand to shake, but you swatted it away because it was oily and covered in crumbs.

“Deal.”

iii.

“I thought I was going to get some hot chick’s digits by the end of this study session, but I guess not.”

Snorting over Chan’s disappointment, you propped your chin on the table with your palm. Today was different. It was different because Minho joined the study session. Minho was waiting in line to order while you and Chan were gossiping in the corner booth of the coffee shop. People would assume the place would be packed at this time since it was only a ten-minute walk from campus, but it was surprisingly not. “Did you really think I would introduce you to a girl?”

“Why not? You’re passing chemistry because of me,” he shrugged, rummaging his backpack for his agenda and laptop to take a look at his due dates for the week.

“No. I’m passing because I’m staying focused and working hard.”

“Yeah, due to the study sessions you insist on having with me. Y/N, just admit it. Your success will be credited to me,” Chan smugly boasted. Taking a look around the coffee shop, your eyes were drawn to the hipster neon sign behind Minho.

You giggled at Chan while reading the neon purple font, ‘wake up and smell the coffee’. Turning around as if on cue, Minho made eye contact with you, raising his brows, then, playfully sticking his tongue out before turning back to move forward in line. That definitely caught you off guard. Even Chan noticed when he saw your smile falter after looking away from Minho’s backside.

Minho’s small, playful gesture made you feel uncontrollably giddy. When he came back to the booth, you had trouble maintaining eye contact when he asked you a question. Recently, it was more difficult to converse with him than usual since you were bothered by the thought of him being more attractive. As cheesy as it sounds, your heart was pounding against your chest, and it felt more powerful than usual.

When Chan said something that seemed amusing to Minho, Minho would lightly chuckle and glance at you from the corner of his eye. As you thought about it more and more, you’ve come to a realization that Minho was definitely cuter than before. When he gently shook your wrist to ask a question, a fluttery feeling sprouted in your stomach. It was hard to concentrate on your work because his smile was distracting.

There were several moments where Chan caught you staring at Minho. You were more quiet than usual and he knew something was up. Chan recognized your symptoms, and you were starting to as well. While you were in denial, Minho excused himself to use the restroom, leaving you with a fully aware Chan sitting across from you. Before you could admit to what you were thinking of, Chan had already beat you to it.

“Someone’s developing a crush,” he teased softly while surfing the web.

iv.

Several weeks have passed since Minho’s joined your study group. Surprisingly, Chan and Minho got along with each other just fine. In the beginning, you were actually a little worried since it took some time for Minho to get comfortable with you back then. Luckily, those two shared common interests in video games and dance.

“Let’s call it a night. I think we’ve studied enough,” Chan yawned, closing his laptop afterward. He’s developed some dark circles from staying up all night over these past couple of days. Thanks to him, you and Minho are fully prepared and ready to take the math final.

Blinking slowly, Chan decided to cross his arms on the table, using it to cushion his head. You packed your laptop and notebooks, stretching when you got off the chair. You nudged his elbow, “Chan, go brush your teeth and wash your face. You can sleep on your bed after.” Chan mumbled something incoherent before getting up to use the washroom. You and Minho said goodbye, and you reminded Chan to lock the door.

It was almost 4 am, and you still had to walk back to your apartment. Thank god Minho lived a block away from you or else you would have to walk back by yourself. It was tempting to sleep over at Chan’s, but you didn’t want Minho to feel left out since he wasn’t as close to Chan like how you were. You didn’t mind walking back with Minho either. It just meant you had fifteen minutes with him all to yourself.

Even though it was extremely cold outside, you both walked slowly. Minho and you were both wearing black windbreakers over hoodies. He cupped his hands, blowing warm air into them and rubbing intensely to heat his cold fingers. Then, Minho used the hood from his gray Thrasher hoodie from underneath the windbreaker to cover his head. You silently watched, amusing yourself by breathing out a small cloud in the cold air.

“Can I ask you a question?” Minho suddenly asked.

You chuckled, giving him a look, “You’re asking one right now, aren’t you?”

He shook his head lightly, chuckling at your smartass response. “Yeah, and I’m going to ask another one.”

“Hit me,” you raised your eyebrows.

Minho cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you like anyone?”

Your stomach dropped because you didn’t know how to respond. Yes, you did like someone. Were you willing to tell him though? No, because he was the person you liked. “No, does it seem like I do?” You cooly responded.

Minho rolled his eyes, “If you didn’t, do you think I would’ve even asked?”

“Yeah, because you’re nosy!” You joked.

“Are you sure you don’t?” He asked again.

“Who do you think I like then?”

Minho shrugged with puppy eyes, “Dunno, maybe you like Chan?”

You laughed at the mention of Chan. No way, you could never. You didn’t see him in that way, and you don’t think you could ever. Although you and Chan were very close, you never saw him romantically. “No, never. He’s only a friend, always.”

“Hmmmmm, that’s what they always say.” Minho teased, leaning in to show you his wiggling eyebrows.

You nervously gulped at the unfamiliar close proximity with Minho. As you leaned away, he leaned in further to mess with you. Losing your balance, your left foot slipped on the wet pavement, causing you to grab a hold of Minho’s arm. You yelped, grabbing onto him tightly. His hand caught the small of your back, and you were suffering. You were lucky that he was unaware of your crush on him.

Minho broke into a grin, helping you get back on your feet, “I’ve cracked the Da Vinci code haven’t I?”

“I don’t like him,” you said. Flustered with what had just happened, you walked ahead, leaving a laughing Minho behind you. Just a block away from your apartment, and that was it.

“I swear I won’t tell him, Y/N!” He yelled at you. You picked up your pace, leaving him behind even more.

“DON’T EVEN BOTHER.”

v.

“Why do you keep smiling creepily on your phone? Are you dealing with the Black Market or something?” Chan looked from the television screen with a confused expression.

“Mhmmm,” you brushed him off, finishing your text to press send.

He rolled his eyes, “She’s not even listening.”

You immediately got up from the couch while keeping your eyes on the screen of your phone. Chan stared at you with wide eyes. Something was odd and you were starting to scare him. “You’re not meeting with a client, right?” He asked.

“I have to go home and get ready. Chan! He asked if I wanted to get food with him,” you paced back and forth between the couch and coffee table.

“Ahhh, I get it now. She sold herself in the Black Market. Who would want to buy that?” Chan shivered at the image of you providing escort services. He was only joking though, he wanted to see how long it took you to actually start listening to him.

“You’re so annoying, I did not sell myself on the Black Market. I’m selling you,” you whacked Chan with the nearest pillow you could grab. “But… I need to go home and get ready because I’m going out soon.”

Chan flinched and grabbed the pillow from you, “Are you out of your mind? It’s Christmas Eve right now, there’s nothing opened at this time. It’s 10.”

“I’m sure at least one place is still opened around this time. Now, take me home, please. I need to get ready,” you were quick on your feet, approaching the door in a second.

Sluggishly removing himself from the couch and trudging past the counter to grab the car keys, Chan groaned as he passed by you. While slipping his sneakers on, he complained, “It’s Christmas Eve, Y/N. I just wanted to stay in and watch Christmas movies.”

“You didn’t even have any in mind,” you rolled your eyes, following him shortly after putting on your shoes.

You both walked in the hallway, and the sound of his keys jingled as he spun them around his finger. He turned back and said, “I had A Christmas Story in mind.”

“Boring, I’ll pass.”

Chan shook his head and pressed the button for the elevator once you two reached the end of the hall. He yawned while hitting the parking lot button with his index finger. When you arrived at the parking lot, Chan aimed his keys at the white 2015 Mercedes Benz SL550 at the corner of the parking lot garage. After hearing the car beep, you rushed to the car and hopped in the passenger seat.

During the drive, you bumped up the Christmas playlist Chan made on his Spotify account. As you jammed out on Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You, he interrupted you. “Who are you going out with so late?” He asked.

You turned down the volume and sheepishly smiled at him, “Mmmmmm… Minho?”

“Ohhhh boy,” he rolled his eyes, “So how's this crush going? Do you like him a lot?”

You thought about it for a moment before telling Chan your honest feelings. “At first, I didn’t want to like him, and I was in complete denial. But eventually, I guess I finally accepted it. The more I spend time with him, the more I grow to like him even more. I feel comfortable around him,” you blushed, feeling embarrassed to tell Chan these kinds of things.

“I guess,” Chan shrugged and then put on a salty face to scold you, “Don’t stay out too late, and Merry Early Christmas since you wanted to be with Lee Minho instead!”

He pulled over to the sidewalk in front of your apartment. You shook his arm roughly, laughing at him for being such a child. “Merry Early Christmas Chan! I’ll see you around.”

“See you around Y/N.”

vi.

“Ugh, there’s nothing opened at this time. Not even McDonalds is open,” you pouted as Minho drove away from the fast food restaurant, staring at it more longingly than you’ve ever done in your whole life.

“Hey,” he teased, “You’re the hungry one, not me. You were the one who insisted that we go out at this time.”

You sighed in defeat. He wasn’t wrong though, you were the one to suggest going out at this time. As your mind wandered to the idea of binge eating hot tteokbokki and kimbap, your mouth was slowly watering. Frowning over your disappointment, you mumbled, “Tch, you offered.”

“You’re lucky I did some grocery shopping yesterday. Do you want to come over to my place?” Minho asked.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. It wasn’t like it was your first time coming over, you’ve been there countless times. But the thought of spending Christmas Eve with him had this romantic mood to it. Honestly, it was just you overthinking the scenario and you needed to stop yourself. You were fully aware of how much you had just over thought this situation and toned it down by 99 percent.

“Okay.”

Luckily, the drive back to Minho’s place didn’t take too long. As you punched in the digits, 1004, you slightly cringed at your friend. You’d understand if his passcode was his birthday: 1025, but 1004? Angel my ass, you thought. His features were blessed to look like an angel’s, but he sure did not act like one.

You walked in before he did and took off your shoes. The first thing that came to your mind was finding yourself something to eat, and if you couldn’t, no problem. You would make Minho cook you something up.

“Oh, hey! I have some instant tteokbokki. Want me to make that for you and add cheese and sausage with it?” Minho held up a frozen pack of rice cakes after fishing in his freezer.

Your mouth went agape and you nodded excitedly. Minho chuckled at your reaction, thinking it was pretty cute for a moment. Then, he began to take out the other ingredients as you stood there looking at the nutrition facts on the back of the package. “It’s worth two servings, are you going to eat it with me?”

“If I don’t, then something is obviously wrong with me,” he cocked an eyebrow.

Minho just loves food. Nothing could ever get between him and his love for food. Throughout this semester, it was pretty much a routine to treat yourselves out by the end of the week. Most of the time, Minho was the one suggesting new places to try out while you almost always greed since you weren’t much of a picky eater. His favorite foods consist of jjamppong, tteokbokki, and buldak. Literally, anything spicy was his go-to option.

Your face scrunched in a teasing manner, “Who knows? Maybe you don’t want to get fat.”

Minho turned around with wide eyes and scoffed, “Who am I making food for at 11 again, and you’re calling me fat? Y/N, me? Fat? Have you seen this face? Maybe you’re the fat one.”

You grabbed the roll of paper towels on the counter, pretending to threaten to hit him with it if anything else came out of his mouth. Minho flinch and pretended to be very scared at your sudden change of movement. You lightly tapped the roll on his head and he grabbed your wrist to secure you from bopping his head with it again. When he took the paper towel roll from your hand with his free one, he placed it back on the counter.

Minho grabbed your other wrist, pulling you in closer to him. “Now you’re threatening me in my household? You have some guts, Y/N,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as you blinked at him like a fool.

Your flustered self would’ve been done for if you two were any closer to each other, but your stomach saved the day by loudly growling out loud. Minho broke eye contact by looking at your stomach. He let go of your wrists, letting them drop to your sides and laughed.

“Alright, let’s make some tteokbokki.”

Cooking with Minho was probably one of the most annoying things you have ever done with this man. He was so picky when it came to preparing foods, especially if directions were written on the package. You have to follow everything it says, or else it wouldn’t taste good.

“Finally! We can eat,” you peeked over to Minho for a thumbs up.

He shook his head, “Nuh uh, not yet. I need to add the garnishes.” Grabbing the small shaker on the kitchen table, he sprinkled some roasted sesame seeds on top of the tteokbokki. “Okay, now we can eat,” he chuckled.

You didn’t know what it was, but instant tteokbokki somehow tasted better than before. As you kept struggling to pick up the rice cakes with chopsticks, the corners of Minho’s lips quirked upward. It was hard to notice since they were covered in sauce. Minho easily stabbed a rice cake, bringing it up to your mouth. “Maybe you need training chopsticks, Y/N,” he cooed, mouthing at you to open your mouth wide.

You glared at Minho but leaned in for the rice cake since it was already in front of you. You slowly chewed at the glutinous rice cake covered in that the thick, spicy sauce Minho loved. Your eyes watered at the spice level, but Minho was totally fine. “I have strawberry milk in the fridge,” he nodded towards the fridge.

“I’ll drink it once we finish, can’t be a pussy now, can I?” You huffed.

“Certainly not, oh! Five more minutes till Christmas,” Minho said while scrolling through his phone. When you peeked over, he was on Snapchat and responding to his streaks.

“What’s Jisung doing?” You asked about his best friend.

“Making cookies with his girlfriend. I told him to add walnuts in there.”

“Isn’t he allergic to walnuts?”

“Mhmmm,” Minho nodded.

Minho received another notification from Jisung on Snapchat. When he pressed on the red square icon, it was a picture of Jisung flipping him off, saying ‘hope you fucking eat ass once you give Y/N her gift’. Minho sighed, remembering to slap the shit out of Jisung the next time he ran into him in the cafeteria. You looked at Minho, blinking in shock. “What the hell did you get me?”

“Nothing,” he laughed nervously, but you weren’t buying it at all, “Okay, fine. Wait here.”

Minho came back with a small, gold gift bag that was filled to the brim with tissue paper. Placing it on the table, he slowly slid the present to you, nervously anticipating your reaction. The bag was no larger than a bag of regular sized chips and was very lightweight. You removed the tissue paper, enjoying the crisp ruffling sounds it made. When you reached into the bag, you felt something hard and roughly textured with bumps. Once you pulled out the mystery gift from the bag, you were ready to use it to smack this man in the face.

“Thanks for the rubber drumstick dog toy, I’ll be sure to put it to good use,” you said, pretending to inspect the chew toy by holding it near your face.

Minho smirked and chuckled at your reaction. He just loved to mess with you, and he did the trick by buying a plastic dog toy from the dollar store. Minho knew you were going to throw it at him soon, so he reached into his pockets.

Bringing out a small, flat square box, Minho slid your actual present onto the table this time. The white gift box tied sealed with red ribbons didn’t really make you hope for much. If it was a shock toy, you wouldn’t be surprised.

As you slowly undone the tiny ribbon star, Minho impatiently drummed his fingers against the table. “You’re so slow,” he mocked.

“Let me be,” you huffed, “Besides, it’s going to be another gag gift anyways.”

“That’s what you think,” he mumbled.

When you finally removed the lid, Minho couldn’t help but smile when you gasped at the gift. It was a simple necklace with a thin silver chain and small, aquamarine gemstone pendant. To think he was even capable of thinking of getting you something like that was truly shocking. “Wow,” you said, startled.

“Do you like it?” Minho subtly rubbed the side of his neck. Although he was satisfied with your reaction, he was worried that you might reject his gift. He had trouble finding a gift for you, but he stumbled across this necklace. There was a meaning behind the necklace, but Minho wouldn’t bring it up unless you did. It was too cheesy for him, but it seemed to fit you, and he just stuck with it.

“Y-yeah, I do,” you stuttered.

When the clock struck 12, it was finally Christmas. Several fireworks went off and both of your phones were buzzing with notifications from friends and family. Minho sighed in relief when you said you liked the necklace. When he was going to reach for the necklace, you beat him to it and easily put it on yourself without the help of a mirror or him. Great, because it would be weird if he was the one who put it on you.

The little gemstone drop represented the little things in life. Little things included studying together, going to the movies, staying up late to Skype each other, having drinking contests at parties, and pigging out after a long week are the memories that always made him smile when he thought of you. To Minho, little moments like this mattered to him the most.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

vii.

“Chan, I left my wallet at home,” you whined.

Chan shrugged, laughing at your bad luck, “Guess you’re not eating today.”

“No! Buy me food, I’ll buy you chicken tonight.”

“A whole chicken?”

“A whole chicken is expensive, so no.”

“Sorry, I guess I don’t have enough for you,” he scratched the back of his head.

You slapped his shoulder and Chan hissed at the annoying pain. While Chan rubbed his shoulder, you began to accidentally eavesdrop when you recognized a familiar voice, two familiar voices actually.

“Hey, is that her?” One said.

“Yeah,” Minho said.

You turned around and spotted Minho walking towards you with Jisung beside him. When you made eye contact with him, he waved to you and picked up his pace. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you blushed.

Chan frowned at your unusual feminine side and began to cough obnoxiously, “Oof, I think I’m getting sick Y/N.”

You ignored Chan and continued your little conversation with Minho and Jisung. Jisung recently lost a bet with Minho so he had to treat Minho out for the whole day. Knowing the ridiculous amount Minho can eat in one sitting, Jisung’s wallet would be nearly empty by the end of the day. Poor kid, this is why you never make bets with Minho.

“Y/N, we’re next,” Chan interrupted the conversation. You said goodbye and went to order your meal with Chan.

“See you later.”

Chan ordered a burger combo whereas you ordered a chicken sandwich combo. Once you two found a spot to sit, he remembered to grill you into buying him a whole fried chicken for tonight. Normally you would say no and tell him to suck it up, but you were distracted this time. You kept glancing over to Minho unaware that you agreed with Chan. Your body was physically present with your best friend, but your mind was not.

Minho sat on the other side of the cafeteria, facing you. When Jisung said something hilarious, Minho’s eyes morphed into crescents, bringing out his cute eye smile. From time to time, Minho would make eye contact with you, pretending to taunt you by nodding his head and mouthing ‘wanna fight’. Jisung would stop midway into his conversation with Minho and turn around to see the culprit distracting his friend, you.

“Your crush on Minho is so obvious,” Chan rolled his eyes.

“Don’t say his name out loud, we’re in public.”

“Y/N, he’s all the way across the cafeteria. You’re overthinking it,” he rolled his eyes again.

“It’s not obvious. You just think it is because you know,” you glared at him.

“No, it’s because you never act that way around me or anyone else. That’s how I know it’s obvious,” Chan said, getting a little annoyed.

“How would you know?”

“Because I just do, it’s not hard Y/N.”

viii.

“I’m so full! Thanks for the meal,” Chan burped.

You whacked the back of his head but linked your arm with his shortly after. Chan was unfazed by your sudden skinship because you always did this during the coldest days of the winter. He usually complains and shakes your arm off, but this time he didn’t.

“You’re eating my wallet, you fatass,” you stuck your tongue out to tease him.

“What’s the point of saving money when its purpose is solely used for spending?” Chan wisely said.

“Spending money on you is the worst. You literally eat my wallet like a garbage shoot.”

Chan chuckled at your insult and offered to buy you a hot chocolate. You were unable to refuse his offer because he was actually paying for once. You excitedly jumped up and down while holding his arm, causing Chan to be shaken back and forth repeatedly. “If you don’t stop that, the offer will cease to exist,” he blinked hard after feeling a little dizzy from your rough movements.

“Okay. Let’s go to Cha Cha Cafe, I really like their peppermint hot cocoa.”

In order to get to Cha Cha Cafe, you had to walk one more block further and cross on your left. Chan was ranting to you about his lab partner and how she pretty much screwed him over the other day. When he spoke, the fog breathed out looked like dragon’s breath. Oh my god, he was so angry.

“Why don’t you tell your TA?” You suggested.

“You know what? Maybe I just might do that.”

When you spotted the cafe, you groaned at the line inside. Luckily, it wasn’t too packed inside. You quickly crossed the street, dragging Chan like a raggedy doll, and walked into the cafe. Once you stepped foot inside, the aroma of roasted coffee beans went into your nostrils. It smelled really good and the thought of hot cocoa on a cold Saturday night made you excited.

“Hey, isn’t that Minho?” Chan pointed to the corner of the room.

You followed the direction of his finger and spotted Minho talking to an unfamiliar person. “Yeah?”

Minho briefly made eye contact with you and looked away. Usually, he would come over to say hi, but he didn’t. You were curious and snapped out of it when Chan tugged on your sleeve. It was your guys’ turn to order. After Chan paid, you both waited by the pickup counter since all the seats were filled.

“Who’s he with?” Chan asked, peeking at the person sitting across from Minho. You were confused and became more nosy the longer you stared.

When you looked over, a girl with a chocolate brown shoulder-length bob giggled at something Minho said. She wore a red chiffon long sleeve blouse and dark see-through leggings under her black shorts. It’s freezing around this time of the year, wow, just wow. As your eyes trailed down her legs, you eyed the black patent leather ankle boots that must have costed a fortune.

You looked at your own wardrobe choice, suddenly feeling self-conscious at your denim jacket, distressed jeans, and worn out Vans. You never dress up.

“Order 165!”

You unlink your arm from Chan’s and grabbed your peppermint cocoa. Chan looked up to see if there were any free spots, but still no luck. When you two were about to walk away, Minho called you over. “Y/N!”

You saw him walking towards you with the unfamiliar girl. Eyeing at you from head to toe, she tried to subtly link arms with Minho but obviously failed when both you and Chan glanced at her at the same time. “Hey,” you said slowly.

“We were just about to leave, you can take our seats,” Minho offered.

You looked at the stranger beside him and reached a hand out to her, “Hi, I’m Minho’s friend, Y/N. And that’s Chan.”

She glanced at Minho before going in the handshake, finally introducing herself which satiated the bubbling curiosity in your system, “Yeri, nice to meet you.”

“How do you know Minho?” Chan asked, beating you to it. You were glad though, you didn’t want to ask, it seemed too much out of your way to do so. Minho sighed, a little embarrassed but laughed at the question. He was finally caught red-handed by you and he couldn’t lie. He unlinked Yeri’s arm from his and entwined his fingers with hers.

Giving her a soft smile before he looked over to you, he said, “She’s actually my girlfriend.”

The way she tightly held his hand and intensely eyed for your reaction seemed like she was taunting you.

What the fuck.

Chan was fully aware of your feelings towards Minho so the atmosphere was suddenly uncomfortable for himself and you. You were speechless and tried your best to keep a poker face. “Since when?” You asked. “I mean, congrats. But since when? You never told me.”

“Mmmm,” Minho looked at the ceiling, thinking to when Yeri became his girlfriend.

“Two weeks ago,” Yeri laughed. Minho’s eyes widened as he nodded at her.

“That’s right,” he agreed, “Long story, but it’s getting late. I have to get Yeri home, but we should meet up later this week.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you guys around then?” He waved, “Have fun on your date!”

“Nice meeting you guys!” Yeri said.

You watched as they left, feeling more frustrated when you replayed the whole scene in your head over and over again. Once you felt the tingling sensation from your nose, you closed your eyes to try fighting back tears from forming in your eyes. Chan noticed and led you away from the cafe.

There was a park nearby and it was completely empty at this time of the night. You walked to the swings and seated yourself on one and Chan sat on the other. You gently kicked the sand and stared at it as it fell into a small pile in front of you. You didn’t care if your shoes were ruined with sand all over them. You didn’t care if they seeped into the holes and cracks of your sneakers.

Tightly gripping onto the swing’s chain, you felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. Soon, you were sniffling. Chan stayed quiet and watched the whole time. He sighed in frustration, still bothered by the situation just as much as you were.

The ringtone notification went off. After buzzing in your pocket multiple times, you patted your denim jacket, removing your phone from one of your inside pockets. Quickly wiping away your fresh tears, you saw a couple notifications from Minho.

What was supposed to come out as a sigh came out as a whimper from you. Chan abandoned his swing and came over. He grabbed your phone, quickly skimming through Minho’s texts and then put it in his pockets. His arms wrapped around you, and he rubbed your back to soothe your heartbroken state.

Minho: sorry if telling you to have fun on your date with chan made you both feel uncomfortable

Minho: yeri gets super jealous easily

Minho: if she knew you were single, she’d suspect that you like me or something

Minho: LMFAOOOO that’s funny and I always talk about you to her

Minho: but I know you’re mad because I didn’t tell you right away but I’ll make it up to you with whatever you want to eat and tell you everything from the start

Minho: okay?? Pls don’t be too mad Y/N ): I’m sorry

Nothing made sense to you anymore. You really had your hopes up for Minho. To think that you were the only girl he was close to was absolutely your the biggest downfall when it came to liking him.

“Y/N,” he sighed, “Just let it out, it’s okay.”

You cried and leaned in to hug his torso. When Chan felt your tight grip on his jacket, he hugged you closer with one hand on your back and the other behind your head. Chan began to caress your hair to try calming you. Once he gained enough confidence, he gently placed his chin on top of your head. By the time you started sobbing, the center of Chan’s white shirt was wet, covered in your hot tears and fresh snot.

“It’s okay,” he said softly.

An unusual feeling began to stir inside of Chan. It’s happened before. There’s no denying that, but it always went away. This time, it really hit a home run. As you cried, burying your face deeper into his stomach, Chan felt his heart aching yet uncontrollably pounding against his chest.

ix.

Minho: what’s up?

Minho: Y/N

Y/N: What?

Minho: you’re being off

Y/N: Wdym

Minho: you’re ignoring me

You paused and stared at your phone’s screen. It wasn’t like you were fully avoiding him. Even though you didn’t have any classes with him this time, you still met up at your usual spot when he asked. Maybe he noticed when you kept rejecting his offer to hang out.

You weren’t lying, you were actually busy. Well, you were finding ways to busy yourself.

Y/N: No I’m not

Minho: let’s hang out on saturday then

Minho: sound good?

Y/N: I have to help Chan go grocery shopping

Y/N: sorry

Minho: i know you’re lying y/n, i literally ran into him at the market the other day

Minho: tell me why you’re being like this

Minho: is this about not telling you about yeri first?

Minho: i told you i was sorry many times but i still need to make it up to you and tell you everything

Y/N: It’s not that Minho

Minho: then what is it???

You sucked in a deep breath, burying your face into your pillow before screaming into it. Out of all the people you had to develop feelings for, it just had to be him, but you needed to get over him.

The last time you cried about Minho was the other day. You planned to meet Chan in the cafeteria and bumped into Minho and Yeri. They both passed by and Minho made brief eye contact with you. You walked slower, expecting him to do the same and say hi, but he didn’t. He acted as if he never saw you, walking away hand in hand with his girlfriend.

That night, you were forced to stay at Chan’s. He didn’t want you to stay at your place because he knew you would cry in bed. You’re really lucky to have him around though. Chan kept you occupied with whatever he could think of and persisted when you said you weren’t feeling like doing anything.

You were too tired to cry now.

Minho: y/n

Y/N: I’m not acting like that because I want to, Minho. It’s just hard to be around you lately

Y/N: I don’t hate you and I’m certainly not mad at you. I’m just upset and sad

Minho: is this because of yeri? that’s why i wanted to hang out with you and explain everything

Minho: i’ve apologized countless times, what more do i have to do?  i really do mean it

Y/N: I like you and I found out you were dating someone out of the blue

Y/N: That’s why I find it so hard to be around you lately

Y/N: I don’t want it to get in the way of our friendship, so I’m putting these feelings aside and going to forget about them. I’ll get over it, so please give me some time. I’ll be fine by next week

*incoming call*

You swiped the call button to answer Minho’s call.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I-I wasn’t thinking straight enough,” he stuttered on the other line.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know,” you said feeling a slight ache in your chest.

“I had no idea… I literally had no idea, I’m so sorry. I’m so-” Minho whispered dejectedly, but you cut him off before he could apologize again.

“Don’t Minho, I’ll get over it soon.”

After that night, your relationship with Minho was never the same.

You began to distance yourself in the span of a couple of weeks. At first, it was difficult. You didn’t want to make it obvious and hurt Minho’s feelings. It’s something you had to do in order to help resolve your feelings. You believed it would benefit you while you were getting over him.

In the beginning, it seemed out of place to not have him around anymore, but it worked out in the end. Minho was more occupied with Yeri nowadays and seemed to have forgotten about you. Instead of spending your Friday nights with Minho, you treated it like a resting day, spending the day to focus on your wellbeing and beauty routine. Lately, you were with Chan most of the time.

“Stop it! It tickles!”

Chan laughed as you struggled to get out of his choke hold. He knows your neck is sensitive, so it was funnier to him. Although he was less rough on you today, you still wanted to knee him in the groin for being so annoying.

“No,” he cackled at your misery once again.

“I’ll smash and throw away that useless keyboard in your room,” you threatened.

Chan let go and frowned, “It’s not useless, I actually use it to make songs during my free time.”

“Do you even have any songs for me to listen to?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Y/N, they’re still in the making. Please,” he defended himself.

You stifled a laugh because you know that wasn’t true at all, but Chan only scowled at you. When you laughed at his face, he broke into a grin. You both continued walking from the campus’ food courts to get to the parking lot.

On the way, Minho instantly recognized you once he saw your familiar neon orange Hydro Flask peeking out the side of your backpack. “Hey Y/N!” He greeted you, breaking eye contact the moment you looked at him.

You gave him a small smile and watched as he walked away with Yeri. Chan nudged your arm with his elbow, “You okay?”

“Actually… I’m getting there Chan, slowly, but I’m getting there.”

Chan raised his hand slowly, closing his fingers out of hesitation. Today was different though. You didn’t stare at Minho’s backside as he walked away with Yeri, and Chan didn’t have to snap you out of it. Instead, you were scrolling through IHOP's online menu and daydreaming about their chicken and waffles.

Chan thought to himself, Fuck it, before gently ruffling your hair. When he stopped, you raised an eyebrow, but all he did was give you a cute smile. Pouting at Chan’s soft gesture, you ruffled his hair in return. You were making progress and doing more than well.

“Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

x.

“I’m thinking about breaking up with Yeri.”

Startled by Minho’s abrupt confession, you choked on your jasmine green tea. Minho was spilling his tea, but you were choking on yours. His eyes widened and he repeatedly pat your back to help you settle down. “You okay?”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. What made you think of that all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know… “ He feigned a smile, “I don’t think I would be happy if I stayed with her.”

You frowned, “Then why did you get with her in the first place?”

“Please refrain from hitting me,” he chuckled.

“I won’t,” you said seriously. You only hit someone when you liked them.

“I actually liked Yeri’s friend, Irene, but she transferred out this year. But Yeri asked me out, and I thought, why not? She seemed cool and she’s a good person, but I don’t know anymore.”

You placed your drink on the step below the one you were sitting on and rubbed your hands to warm them. After listening to his story, you sighed deeply. “If you don’t see yourself growing with her, then don’t stay with her. You’ll just be unhappy and lead her on in the process. I mean… Do you love her?”

“No, I don’t. I’m just so frustrated at this point,” he groaned, combing his bangs with his fingers.

You checked the time, and it was almost 9:00. Shoot! You had to be back at Chan’s place by 10 because you had promised to drop by to pick up your laptop and backpack. You can’t believe you left it there the other day, all of your homework was just sitting at his apartment. “Let’s start heading to the train station? I have to be back soon, but we can still talk,” You stood up from your spot, stretching your arms and legs after sitting down for so long.

As the two of you approached the train station, finishing your homework was on your mind. On the other hand, Minho’s unsatisfying relationship with Yeri was on his. The train was unusually packed tonight, and you groaned the minute the train doors opened. Barely five people exited the cart which meant you had to squeeze in with Minho.

The ride was rocky and uncomfortable. For several stops, you could smell a hobo’s body odor from the other side of the cart. As more people kept trailing in, there was less space for you and Minho. At some point, your chest was only an inch away from his. If Minho was tired, he could’ve rested his head on top of yours.

The closer you were getting to Chan’s, the slower Minho walked. During the walk back, he didn’t talk much. From time to time, he would give you a chuckle or smile if you commented on something random. When you mentioned something about his relationship with Yeri, he only replied with short responses.

You were worried because he seemed so dejected. You wanted to help, but it was up to him to make his own choices. You didn’t want to dictate anything, but you knew for sure that if he wasn’t happy with his relationship, then it was time to say goodbye.

When you finally arrived in front of Chan’s apartment, Minho asked for a hug. Back then, you would’ve initiated the hug because you liked him, but now you’re over him. He tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie, pulling you in for a tight embrace. “To be honest with you…” He mumbled, “I’ve been thinking about breaking up with Yeri for a while now.”

He pulled away to scan your face for a reaction, but you just blinked at him with tired eyes. Minho nervously sighed, preparing himself to say the douchiest thing ever. “After you confessed, I realized that I like you and I have since we first met, but you’re over me now. Aren’t you?”

As ridiculous as it seems, you knew you were over Minho but a small part of you wanted to say no.

Little did you know, Chan was listening to the conversation this whole time. He went to pick up his mail because he forgot to check the mailbox after unloading groceries from earlier. By the time Minho finished confessing, Chan was fuming. After closing his mailbox shut which resulted in a loud bang, he stepped out to intervene. Gripping tightly on the monthly advertisements and statements he received, he almost crushed them in his hands.

“I-” You said, but Chan cut you off.

“Don’t Y/N, because you goddamn know that you’re not a second choice.”

xi.

“I’m going to be super mad if you drop your phone on my face.”

Chan chuckled at your cute comment. After you said that, he purposely hovered his phone over your face. His couch wasn’t big enough for the two of you to lay down, so you made him sit. That way, you could lay your head on his lap. His legs were very hard and muscular from swimming, but that didn’t stop you from using them as a pillow. Chan was still playing Trivia Crack, but it wasn’t fair for you. He’s been beating you in every round, but he still insists on challenging you to another one.

After he acquired another category, the familiar theme played in the background and you groaned. “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“What do you want to play then?” He asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, just not that stupid game.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Just talk,” you blinked.

“We’ve been talking,” Chan teased.

“You know what? I don’t want to talk anymore,” you huffed childishly.

“Get out of my house then,” he retorted.

You slapped his chest, breaking into small fits of laughter because you knew he would never kick you out. Chan’s threats were always lighthearted, and he knew it too. He laughed along, helping you sit up as you removed your head from his lap.

Lately, your growing feelings for Bang Chan scared you.

In the process of getting over Minho, you didn’t want to admit your growing feelings towards Chan. You knew you weren’t fully over him yet, but you were afraid of making it seem like you were using Chan to get over Minho. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, because you genuinely liked him.  

At some point, Chan was scared too.

He used to be scared shitless at the thought of developing feelings for you, but nowadays, he could care less. Ever since that night where you discovered Minho’s relationship, Chan knew he liked you. It’s been really tiring to deny afterward, and he had no intention of hiding it anymore. Ever since senior year of high school, he’s been putting his feelings to the side.

Tiring, wasn’t it?

Chan teased you even more and you tried smacking him again. He always found you predictable, catching your wrist in his hand before yours could come in contact with his chest. “I don’t think so,” he leaned in, laughing at your struggling state.

“Not fair, you’re way stronger than I am,” you whined as he got a hold of your other wrist.

As he held both of your wrists in his hands, you leaned your head onto his shoulder. Chan looked down, feeling nervous yet happy at the close proximity while you were a queasy mess. It was nice to be physically and emotionally closer to someone. Whether it was giving you a comforting hug or holding on to your wrists to keep yourself from attacking him, Chan always wished for one thing: he wished it lasted longer. When you pulled away, he gently let go, feeling a little disappointed.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” Chan asked.

You nodded, “Go for it.”

“Do you still have feelings for Minho?”

Startled by his question, you sat up, bringing your knees up to hug. “I wouldn’t know, Chan. As of now, I feel like I’m over him completely, but you never know. I can’t guarantee anything.”

After Minho confessed that one night, you told him how you felt the next day. You knew he was only confused, and it would never work out with him. It took you long enough to realize, but you finally did it. You knew you were better off with someone else, and Chan was right.

You are never a second choice. 

“Ah, I see,” he said, suddenly becoming quiet.

“I just can't see myself liking him all over again, I’m happy at where I am right now. I don’t want any more emotional baggage, really.”

“That’s good.”

You sheepishly smiled, “I also like someone else too, so … Yeah.”

Chan’s heart raced. He felt all sorts of emotions at the moment. He felt hopeful, surprised, and disappointed, all at the same time.

He was hopeful that your crush could be him since you’ve been spending most of your time with him nowadays.

He was also surprised because it meant you were doing well, and most likely over Minho.

Lastly, Chan felt disappointed at the scenario that played in his head: you being with someone who wasn’t and most definitely better than him.

“Who?”

You shook your head, giving him a teasing smile. “Only time will tell.”

“Because I like someone too.”

“Who?”

“If you paid attention, time would tell you,” he laughed, combing the waves of his hair with his fingers. Your face scrunched in confusion as you were still unaware of what he was trying to tell you. “Time?” You asked.

“Time,” he nodded.  

xii.

And time most certainly did.

One moment you were sitting on Chan’s couch. The next, you were on his bed, straddling his lap during a heated kiss. Chan parted his lips slightly, slowly increasing the pressure to deepen the kiss. He was the first to pull away, chuckling at the sight of your swollen lips. While maintaining eye contact, he dominantly flipped you over, changing his and your positions, causing you to squeal. Chan placed a knee between your legs as he gripped on your waist to keep himself up.

While biting your lower lip, you flirtatiously glanced down at Chan’s. His lips were smudged and swollen with your favorite lip balm tint. He leaned in, gently cupping your cheek in his hand. His hands were soft and warm. You didn’t want him to feel unreciprocated from your lack of contact, so you wrapped an arm around his neck and placed your other hand onto his chest.

Chan missed the feeling of kissing you and leaned in to capture your lips once more. He took over, using his tongue to part your mouth slowly, then playfully caressing yours with his. You pulled him closer to you, enjoying the churning feeling that was growing inside of your stomach. When you stopped feeling his chest and moved your hands to run through his dark waves, Chan used less tongue and began to tease you. While catching your bottom lip between his teeth, he gently nibbled, finishing off the kiss with a long tug.

He plopped down beside you, feeling more lighthearted than ever. You both breathed heavily from making out, chests heaving and eyes on the ceiling. Your heart pounded against your chest, and Chan combed a hand through his hair before sighing in content. When he turned to face you, you turned your head and smiled.

Bang Chan was cute when he was smiling because his eye smile was more prominent. They formed into crescents, making you want to hug and kiss him even more. He took one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his face. After rubbing circles, Chan kissed the back of your hand. It was your turn to cup his cheek, and you poked the center of his chest.

You flicked his nose with your finger, laughing when he fell for your prank.

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you suggested.

Chan sighed but didn’t object since it was getting late. He would love for you to stay and cuddle till you both fell asleep, but it was his little sister’s birthday tomorrow. He had already planned to go home tonight and surprise Hannah in the morning.

When Chan pulled up in front of your place, he neatly parallel parked and exited the car at the same time as you. Even if it meant walking five flight of stairs because the elevator was out of service for maintenance, he still wanted to walk you all the way to your door.

When you arrived at your door, Chan promised to bring cake after Hannah’s birthday party finished. You didn’t believe him, so he cutely reached for your fingers, giving you a pinky promise. You grew soft at his gesture and said goodnight to him.

But not without giving a quick peck on his cheek.

“Y/N,” he called out, giving you a lingering kiss on the lips before letting you go. “Goodnight.”

[artemis-entreri]

[[ This post contains Part 4 of my review/analysis of the Forgotten Realms/Drizzt novel, Boundless, by R. A. Salvatore. As such, the entirety of this post’s content is OOC. ]]

Genre: Fantasy

Series: Generations: Book 2 | Legend of Drizzt #35 (#32 if not counting The Sellswords)

Publisher: Harper Collins (September 10, 2019)

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Additional Information: Artwork for the cover of Boundless and used above is originally done by Aleks Melnik. This post CONTAINS SPOILERS. Furthermore, this discussion concerns topics that I am very passionate about, and as such, at times I do use strong language. Read and expand the cut at your own discretion.

Contents:

Introduction

I. Positives   I.1 Pure Positives   I.2 Muddled Positives

II. Mediocre Writing Style   II.1 Bad Descriptions   II.2 Salvatorisms   II.3 Laborious “Action”

III. Poor Characterization   III.1 “Maestro”   III.2 Lieutenant   III.3 Barbarian   III.4 “Hero”   III.5 Mother

IV. World Breaks (you are here)   IV.1 Blinders Against the Greater World   IV.2 Befuddlement of Earth and Toril   IV.3 Self-Inconsistency   IV.4 Dungeon Amateur   IV.5 Utter Nonsense

V. Ego Stroking   V.1 The Ineffable Companions of the Hall   V.2 Me, Myself, and I

VI. Problematic Themes   VI.1 No Homo   VI.2 Disrespect of Women   VI.3 Social-normalization   VI.4 Eugenics

VII. What’s Next   VII.1 Drizzt Ascends to Godhood   VII.2 Profane Redemption   VII.3 Passing the Torch   VII.4 Don’t Notice Me Senpai

World Breaks

There's a reason that Salvatore's dark elf books are more popular than his works in his own settings, and that reason is only partly due to the Drizzt books being around longer. A fair number of people who actively like the Drizzt books don't much care for Salvatore's Demonwars books, and I suspect the reason is that the Drizzt books piggyback off of a greater world built by better creatives. One would think, then, that Salvatore would respect the foundation that has helped lift him to his height, but sadly, the opposite is true. Instead, Salvatore seems chagrined by, even resentful of, the fact that what makes his work in the shared world as popular as it is is the fact that the world is a sum of the efforts of many. Salvatore's earlier books were much better, in part due to his significantly more humble attitude, but also due to a greater care in respecting what others have woven around him. With each new Drizzt book however, it seems Salvatore is puffing out his chest more, intent on writing his name in a giant sharpie over the tapestry that many hands painstakingly wove together before. The Forgotten Realms may not have some facets as developed as other fantasy worlds like Middle-Earth, but nonetheless, even while missing complete languages, FR has enough self-consistency to at least maintain the feel of the whole. With each new book however, Salvatore turns his nose up at the Realms a new degree. Even if a reader doesn't care about the world outside of Salvatore's take on it, I would hope that they're reasonable enough to see how disrespectful and petty it is to disregard and, at times, erase the work done by others in that same setting, especially when even the creator of the world himself is not exempt from this treatment. 

Blinders Against the Greater World

Salvatore's corner of the Realms has always been very insular, but Boundless takes ignoring of the wider world to a whole new level. To Salvatore, it is as though all there is to the Realms is Faerûn. The planet that is Toril has been reduced to a single continent. Even the great Gromph Baenre, whom Salvatore has fought to elevate to the levels of Blackstaff if not Elminster, doesn't seem aware that the planet is round. When Gromph tells Penelope Harpell to take Catti-brie far away from danger, he states, "send her away, far away, to the ends of Faerun, to another plane, even." This presentation is as silly as the flat earth theory of our world, perhaps more so, because to put it in perspective, if this happened in our world, Gromph basically said something alone the lines of, "take her to the ends of North America, to another dimension, even," when he meant, "take her to the ends of the earth". So, again, there are two possibilities here: one, that Gromph isn't as great as he's made out to seem and actually believes that all of his world is the continent of Faerûn, or two, Salvatore is working very hard to erase the rest of a world that he has no use for. Both possibilities are equally bad.

I think that Salvatore's hubris prevents him from fact-checking, even when it is exceedingly easy for him to do so. Ed Greenwood routinely answers questions from fans about the Realms, only holding back when something is blocked by non-disclosure agreements. Salvatore would be spared that block, and it would be a simple matter for him to just ask Greenwood through the myriad of available instant messaging methods and ask for a quick fact check. It's very evident that he doesn't, however, nor even so much as bother Googling something like "map of Waterdeep", as is evidenced by his incorrect nomenclature of one of the city's wards. Entreri and Dahlia have made their home in the Southern Ward of the city, but Salvatore calls it the "South Ward", despite every map of Waterdeep throughout the editions specifically labeling it as "Southern Ward". Even in the recent D&D module, Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, Volo's Enchiridion notes that, "It is called the Southern Ward, not the South Ward. Waterdhavians are peculiar about this, and if you insist on referring to it as the South Ward, expect to be corrected or thought a fool." I suppose that Salvatore is a fool then, for Dahlia, and most certainly Entreri, wouldn't be foolish enough to erroneously call the area they live in the South Ward, especially since they're performing undercover reconnaissance, which would entail not standing out like a sore thumb as foreigners.

Befuddlement of Earth and Toril

One thing that Salvatore did manage to do better than some Realms authors is that, at least in the past, his dialogue read like speakers in the fantasy world rather than in our world. He's been slipping more and more in the recent books, with Boundless hitting a new low. For instance, Salvatore uses the word "okay", despite it being specifically stated by Ed Greenwood as not existing in Common. The etymology of "okay" is very specific to our world and, just as it's unlikely for Common to have come from Latin, "okay" wouldn't have independently evolved into existence in the Realms. Furthermore, while in Forgotten Realms canon there exist portals connecting different realms in the multiverse, including Earth to Toril, which has allowed for the interchange of language and ideas across worlds, such transmission is rare. Even more unlikely is for an already low probability word making its way into the depths of the Underdark, into a very xenophobic Menzoberranzan, meaning that Jarlaxle actually knowing the word "okay" in past Menzoberranzan is next to impossible. It's lazy writing, Salvatore isn't even trying anymore. The same is true for "salty", which, although is less specific to our world, did come into prominent use in recent times, a fact aligning with Salvatore's usage of it to beg the question of if he's actively trying to dumb down his writing to appeal to a wider audience. 

Unfortunately, Salvatore's regression in staying true to Common isn't limited to individual words. In Boundless, there's a glaring instance of the usage of a phrase that is specific to Earth. Specifically, during one of Entreri's melodramatic monologues, while he ponders all the analogies of death, one of the things he specifically thinks is, "the ring around the rosy". While this isn't an exact replica of a line from a well-known nursery rhyme, knowing Salvatore it was most likely a typo of "rosie" to "rosy". There are several issues with the reference. First, it's evident that Salvatore was referencing the hypothesized morbid nature of the rhyme, when it was believed that it was about the Black Death, with the "ring around the rosie" specifically referring to the swollen red rings around the plague victims' eyes and/or the the black circles that would appear on their bodies. The Black Death is specific to our world, with no indication of anything similar having happened in the Realms. Even if there was a plague similar to the Great Plague, it would be curbed way before it developed into a pandemic in a world with as much magic as exists in the Realms. Thus, it's unlikely that a nursery rhyme would develop, especially as plagues are nasty business, bards and the like would much rather extol heroes and heroic deeds. Second, it'd always been weird that a children's song would be so dark, but it was recently disproven that the rhyme is about the Black Death at all. The plague explanation was one concocted a long time after the appearance of a rhyme with no definite origin, and while a number of different theories exist for the meaning of "ring around the rosie", folklorists pointed out evidence such as the plague explanation not appearing until the mid-twentieth century and the symptoms supposedly described by the rhyme not fitting with those of the Black Death. Perhaps most tellingly, the Black Death interpretation is based on the modern (and usually American English) form of the rhyme, which is not the rhyme's original form. This particular phrase that Salvatore uses demonstrates both a world break and a failure in research. 

Another world break also happens in that same monologue, specifically, when Entreri thinks, "No existence... no existence... that, so I learn too late, my only heaven." Salvatore could've easily avoided this instance by using the word "salvation" or "peace" instead of "heaven". As it is, the concept of heaven is unique to the religions of our world. In the Realms, there is no "heaven", unless one is referring to Mount Celestia. After death, souls go to the realm of the deity they worshiped in life, and if an individual didn't worship a deity, their soul would go to the deity whose portfolio most closely aligns with how they lived their life. Those like Entreri  who reject the worship of any deity would've ended up in the Wall of the Faithless, but even that eternity would've been better than that of the cocoon. Since Entreri is defining his eternal peace as nonexistence now that the cocoon has shown him the potential horrors that await him, the Wall of the Faithless should feel pretty welcoming to him. The Wall is by no means a pleasant fate, for one's soul is eternally mortared into it, but neither is it eternal suffering either. However, there's another world break here in that Salvatore doesn't seem to want to acknowledge the Wall of the Faithless' existence. He'd go so far as to create a nonexistent "demon" that will torment those that it deems evil for eternity. The "demon" could actually not be a demon at all, but its human-faced wasp minions certainly don't seem like the kind of critter that would belong to a goodly creature. 

Self-Inconsistency

A consistent problem that occurs in the Drizzt books is the lack of self-consistency. Salvatore often seems to forget and/or mix up which of his characters have done what. This was better in Timeless, but worsened in Boundless again. One example of this that is also a disregard for the shared world as a whole is, "Dab'nay stirred from her deep slumber". Such a simple statement, yet one forgetting something as fundamental as drow having ebony skin. Elves of the Forgotten Realms, which includes drow, don't typically sleep, unless they are extremely injured. Their equivalent of rest is reverie, which they only need half as much of as creatures needing sleep, and it's a state in which they are perfectly lucid. I suppose elves can choose to sleep, but it's illogical that Dab'nay would do so even as comfortable as she feels in that moment. Dab'nay is relatively safe in her hideout, but fundamentally, she is in Menzoberranzan, in the Underdark after all, and there, no place is truly safe. Unless a drow has a death wish, they wouldn't relinquish the advantage afforded them by reverie unless they had no choice, i.e. when they're seriously wounded, which leads me to conclude that Salvatore simply forgot, yet again, that drow don't sleep. It's really a shame, and also somewhat embarrassing, given that one of his more memorable and evocative lines is, "They sat there under the stars and let the Reverie calm them" (The Two Swords). And that's not taking into account the War of the Spider Queen series that he supposedly oversaw, in which reverie is referenced in a non-insignificant way. 

Another example of self-inconsistency in Boundless is:

This is deserving of a John Stewart baffled look. Drizzt, Jarlaxle and Entreri were allowed to walk free from Quenthel's dungeons, but Zaknafein was never there, not during Quenthel's rule anyway. I suppose we don't actually know where Yvonnel the Second brought Zaknafein back from, it is conceivable that she resurrected him in Quenthel's dungeons. However, this is super unlikely, because Yvonnel had already left Menzoberranzan behind by that point with no intention of looking back. 

Yet another inconsistency in Boundless is Guenhwyvar apparently losing one of her oldest abilities, specifically, her capacity to carry others with her to and from the Astral Plane. This ability initially appeared in the first Drizzt book Salvatore wrote, The Crystal Shard, in which Guenhwyvar whisks Regis away to the safety of her home while the final Cryshal-Tirith crumbles about them. She does this again in The Halfling's Gem, stealing Regis away again right as things were getting hot for him in Pasha Pook's guild. In that same book, she later returns to the Prime Material Plane with other astral panthers to obliterate the wererats in the Thieves' Guild. Just the circumstance of Regis going on a joyride through the Astral Plane not once but twice should've led to Drizzt  learning about this particular special and powerful ability of his wondrous companion. However, if for some strange reason Regis was tight-lipped about both of his extraordinary experiences with the panther, the spectacle of a pack of panthers materializing to help the Companions rout their enemies should've definitely drawn enough notice to inspire some question and investigation. It's simply inconceivable that Drizzt wouldn't be aware of Guenhwyvar's ability to transport passengers to the Astral Plane, unless he were so dense as to not notice, or so oblivious as to not wonder. In Boundless, Drizzt demonstrates himself to be either exceedingly forgetful or exceedingly stupid to not think of this most convenient ability of Guenhwyvar's that may have solved the Retriever issue right away. Of course, since what Salvatore "created" isn't a standard Retriever, it’s possible it gained immunity to most everything and incomprehensible cosmic power, but lost its ability to track and travel to other planes?  Perhaps that’s its form of an "itty bitty living space"? Yet, in increasing Salvatore fashion, this inconvenient fact is conveniently forgotten, as even Drizzt's most trusted companion Guenhwyvar isn't immune to being nerfed so that the golden boy is elevated to new levels. After all, if Guenhwyvar simply took Drizzt to the Astral Plane and lost the Retriever that way, how could Salvatore make Drizzt do that awesome discorporating thing at the end of the novel?

Perhaps the biggest recurring issue in the Drizzt books is the arbitrary impermanence of death. Even putting aside the fact that the Companions of the Hall are immune to permanent death, always finding some way to come back even if it entails a hundred-year time jump imposed by D&D's edition change, Salvatore seems to blatantly ignore that the resurrection mechanic exists in the world. Resurrection magic might be difficult to access in remote villages as well as being prohibitively expensive for the common folk, but Drizzt and the companions are far from common folk. Bruenor is one of the wealthiest people on the continent, and the companions have allies in advanced, magic-rich cities such as Silverymoon. This isn't accounting for the fact that even in their midst, Catti-brie should be more than powerful enough to perform one resurrection a day. Pikel, too, is represented to be very powerful, and while he might not be able to resurrect, reincarnating a lost friend in a different form should certainly be within his magic arsenal. Why is none of that being employed to bring back Ambergris when she was slain in Timeless? Why was it not used when Pwent was killed, which would've had the bonus effect of also curing his vampirism? The fact that even the endlessly resourceful Jarlaxle doesn't have some sort of death-defeating spell on hand, even during the Spellplague era, is a gaping hole of an incongruity that'll never be rectified. Putting that aside, Salvatore treats death even more whimsically than Realms authors who do acknowledge resurrection magic in their books. It really feels like Pwent is revealed as not dead due to popular request, whereas Ambergris is killed off to build drama. Similarly, I question if anyone still draws any tension from any members of the Companions being in "mortal danger". It doesn't matter that Drizzt can't escape the relentless Retriever pursuing him, because we know that he's not going to die in any permanent sense, and that everything will work out all right for him. This is perhaps not something that can be laid at Salatore's feet though, as it is intrinsic to most novel series (at least those not written be George R.R. Martin).

Dungeon Amateur

Another thing that's evident from the Drizzt books is that, despite Salvatore styling himself as a D&D expert, his actual understanding of D&D mechanics is very poor. His stats for Drizzt are so laughably optimized that a properly min-maxed character could easily defeat him in one-on-one combat while being as much as ten levels lower than him. However, Drizzt has the thickest plot armor of possibly any fantasy character, so there's no need for Salvatore to understand the game system that his books borrow from and are based in. Still, it's very cringe-worthy to see, especially as with each new book, Salvatore is flagrantly disregarding D&D even more. For instance, in Boundless, Jarlaxle's bag of holding is described as being able to “hold a roomful of goods”. I suppose this is true if it was a pretty small room or if it's a room full of not very heavy goods, because bags of holding can't exceed a capacity of five hundred pounds, and if we're speaking in terms of pure volume, sixty-four cubic feet is the limit. Based on the way that Jarlaxle is pulling forth pouch after pouch full of gold from that bag of holding though, Salvatore makes it sound like he's got a dragon's hoard stored in that magical container. Gold and treasure is heavy, so if Jarlaxle indeed wanted to fit a roomful of goods in his bag of holding, he surely must stock some lightweight junk amidst all of those coins.

The above example admittedly isn't all that bad, especially when considering that since multi-classing into monk, Drizzt's plot armor thickened exponentially, giving him a bevy of awesome new abilities even though his previous awesomeness meant that he's high enough level such that he should only have one level to spend into monk. In Boundless, it seems as though Salvatore is reassigning Drizzt's levels, perhaps taking out those levels in those ranger abilities he never uses and putting them into monk, or perhaps simply by removing the level cap for him. With his sole level in monk, Drizzt kicks a balor in the head for massive damage, even though that one level would've only granted him proficiency in unarmed strikes, an alternate low amount of damage (d4), or the possibility for an extra attack. Yet Drizzt is kicking that balor for the damage of all of his fighter levels, as well as being able to remove poison from himself, an ability that monks don't even have anything similar to until level ten in the form of poison immunity.

At times, Salvatore seems self-conscious about the world and mechanic breaks he performs, and appears to try to make up for them. However, the way that he does so is clumsy and inspires one to facepalm. For instance, a guard "crumples to the floor as if she had been stomped by a tarrasque" after receiving a strike from Dahlia's nunchaku. The tarrasque is a creature that is unique to the Forgotten Realms, however it is also fifty feet long and seventy feet wide, weighing a whopping value of one hundred and thirty tons. Any medium-sized humanoid, which the guard that Dahlia strikes is, would be little more than a bloody smear even if the tarrasque gently put its foot on them. Yet, the guard didn't die immediately from such a strike, was even groaning afterwards. The vast ridiculousness of the analogy aside, it's very unlikely that the guard would be alive at all, for Dahlia's un-tarrasque-like strike nonetheless was enough to splatter the nearby Regis with "blood, bone, and brain". 

In the same vein as not making sense is:

Since when is "what in the Nine Hells" an old dwarven cliché? As far as I can remember, this is the first time it's mentioned in a Drizzt book, and I don't recall seeing that phrase categorized as such in any other Forgotten Realms novels or sourcebooks. It hardly makes sense to and reeks of poor and lazy worldbuilding, While all "facts" in a fantasy setting are made up, this detail is just so random and doesn't fit with dwarf lore. Dwarven souls can end up in the abyss and Baator (the Nine Hells) as readily as any mortal soul, but dwarves as a race don't mingle with devils as much as, for instance, humans or even elves do. As such, it's unlikely that fear of the hells would come from the dwarves. Besides, Bruenor would certainly know the difference between demons and devils, and would thus know that the lawful evil devils would not be marching aside their hated enemies, the chaotic evil demons besieging Gauntylgrm.

One final piece that makes little sense, a tidbit that breaks both D&D rules and Salvatore's own consistency, is Regis lifting Entreri's cocoon. Regis doesn't drag the cocoon, but actually lifts it, gets it on his shoulders, and carries it across a room. Sure, his legs were shaking, but the feat shouldn't have been possible for him at all. We know from Salvatore's own text via The Sellswords trilogy that Entreri weighs one hundred and fifty pounds. Assuming that's with armor included, although it's unlikely since a man that is five foot five inches tall and as muscular as Entreri is would weigh that fully nude, the cocoon itself should add at least fifty pounds, although more likely much more as it's described as being thick and made of sludge-like material. As a halfling, Regis would weigh around thirty pounds, and from what we've seen, he's more of a dexterity-based character than strength-based. He shouldn't have been able to lift the cocoon at all. 

Utter Nonsense

There are a number of things that aren't just inconsistent with the rest of the shared world, they're not even consistent with our world. A carry-over from Timeless is what was supposed to have been a nightmarish fate left to the priestess who failed, Ash'ala Melarn. The climax of the awful punishment was supposedly "when the maggots hatch in the filthy tub all about [her], that [she] can feel every bite and every squirm over the days as they devoured [her]." As I pointed out in my analysis of Timeless, maggots only eat dead flesh. They don't eat live flesh, which is why they can be employed in medical treatments as a form of biotherapy. Because they specifically target dead tissue, maggots are effective in preventing infection that is promoted by the presence of dead tissue. Thus, unless drow possess the capacity to maintain sensation in dead tissue, Ash'ala wouldn't feel the maggots' bites. It seems that Salvatore just kept compounding his mistake, for in Boundless, we're reminded of how Ash'ala is "being slowly eaten by maggots". I suppose that can be true enough if more and more of her tissue is dying and the maggots move on to consume the newly dead tissue, but it's not really a horrific image because, fundamentally, all dead things are going to be eaten by maggots. I get what Salvatore is trying to go for but if the maggots in their world is the same as ours, it wouldn't work the way that he's describing. 

Another example of something that just doesn't fit in either world appears during one of Entreri's monologues: 

I can't find anything for what "piffy" might mean here. There's an entry in the Urban Dictionary that states that it means "sexy", but that definition hardly fits in this context. There's also an explanation that it's a British saying that means to be conspicuous but left out of an activity, but that hardly fits either. Is this Salvatore's version of Trump's covfefe, or a truly epicly bad spelling of pithy that doesn't really fit either? Perhaps its an attempt to show us that language is "Boundless".

[maxevansschmid]

Reading and Writing

I.

Sunlight sprinkles softly through the building's windows, casting the room in a light golden haze. I, however, pay no attention to this intrusive yet all-too-familiar being for I am engrossed in my book. In reality, I sit in an armchair in my preschool. Children run, scream, play around the chair; my anchor point. However, I am far off, away in my own little world, high above the clouds. In this world only exists the book and myself. Nothing can break the connection. I am only four years old and already engrossed in the pleasures of reading.

II.

Years go by and my love of reading never stops. I start reading more and more complex and difficult stories. In my backpack, I carry always a book. Elementary School cuts into my secret fantasy retreat.

III.

“Okay class, today we’re going to read a book together and then talk about as a class before individually writing a summary of that book.”

A summary? What’s that? I ponder such a concept as the teacher hands out the books and we start reading in a circle. As I soon understand, a summary means restating the entire story in a couple of sentences. But… Doesn’t everyone understand the plot?? Why would we need to rewrite something that we just read and understood?? Also writing is not as interesting as reading and is a waste of time. In the grand scheme of things I had not much to complain about in second grade, the whole writing thing was just beginning.

IV.

As I grow older, and class readings come hand-in-hand with some writing activity be it summaries, book reports or the worst of them all essays. I become frustrated with the whole process. I miss the days of simply reading a book for one’s own pleasure. My resentment towards the literary arts culminates in middle school where I sit in front of the computer late at night, asking myself how I could have let this happen. We were assigned two weeks to complete the essay, yet here I am the night before the deadline with nothing written. I scowl at the computer screen, and it only scowls back with its harsh pale blue stare, illuminating my room that is otherwise swallowed up in the darkness of the night. Outside, the world is asleep but I alone must conquer my enemy.

V.

Once again, I’m back in my favorite chair, engrossed in a book. It has been a while since I have last done so. Too long. For the past six months, my life has been a whirlwind of applications, high school visits, homework, friends, sports and more of life’s activities. I have spent much of my free time on social media and youtube. I recognize how I have changed in these last few months. I have finally been able to enjoy some aspects of writing, specifically creative writing. Yet in all this process I seem to have forgotten what was once one of my greatest passions. Not anymore. For now, I admire the peace and quiet of the late afternoon; sunlight dappling in warm bursts of gold through the windows. Once again I am one with myself,

[thehappymessproject]

81/100 - Giving ourselves focus and love by choosing one word for the year

This is very exciting for me to write about : I’ve never really done it. 

A little bit more than five years ago, I just had discovered the incredible work of Dr. Brene Brown on vulnerability and courage, and it simply blew my mind. I felt like I was reading about one of the most important things I could ever educate myself on. 

The books and her TED talks already had changed my daily life in subtle touches, but I wanted more. I also knew I needed more. I was afraid to forget about it in the next few months and hated the thought. So, I took some time to reflect, and over a couple of weeks, came to a big decision (especially for me who used to be commitment phobic in so many ways).

I would spend a year learning courage.

It became one of the most exciting years of my life. For me, learning how to be brave was essentially about saying yes to a lot of things I would have usually say no to out of fear, and no to a lot of things that would bring me comfort in the moment, but preventing me to do things that really mattered to me in the long run. 

I tried out a lot of activities I had never tried, but felt curious about like climbing, sewing, baking pastries... 

I paid a lot of attention to those moments where I would feel afraid, ashamed or uncomfortable, and pushed myself to be brave in my way of dealing with them. 

Choosing to tell a friend that I was feeling hurt and set a boundary rather than silencing myself in hope it doesn’t happen anymore. 

When really down, channelling more energy to do anything that would bring myself self-loving comfort rather numbing comfort. 

Breaking off relationships that felt depleting to me.

It was a tiring year, sure. But it was also one of the most empowering ones. Each time I would choose the brave path instead of the comfortable one, I would feel stronger and more centred. Embodying the experience of bravery, training those courage muscles. 

I realised at the end of the year, when I was feeling really sad about seeing what I called my brave year coming to a year, that I didn’t want to give it up, but I also didn’t want to repeat it as is either. I also noticed that overall, being brave for me had a lot to do with exploring my creativity. 

So I decided to make the next year my creative year. I had so much fun! 

I started taking way more photos, tried to learn guitar and piano for a while, spent a few months sewing like a crazy person, I wrote more that year than in the decade before, and towards the third trimester of my year devoted to creativity, started to paint with watercolours and do the lettering you can now see on my artsy Instagram account. 

Both activities were those bringing me the most joy while allowing me to let my guard down : when painting, I was less attacked by the voices in my head trying to bring me down and discourage me. (ah, the joy of defence mechanisms bullying us...) I was finding more easily ways to bypass them than in any other setting. 

I noticed that creating (and doing anything that mattered to me in my life) was only possible for me when I would take good care of myself. When I would commit to loving myself everyday by showing up. But self-care was so hard for me... 

So... Yeah you guessed it, I took my practice to a new ground by declaring the following year my self-care year. 

I had just discovered the existence of the Find what feels good channel on Youtube a few weeks before, I had ended my creative year with The artist’s way, a 8 weeks program using Julia Cameron’s wonderful book to discover or recover our inner artist, which had taught me how to journal in a way that would connect myself to my heart better than ever. And I had dabbled for a few years on and off with meditation. I had all the tools lying before me already. 

As often when we live an intentional life, the Universe (or call it luck if you’re more comfortable) was helping in subtle ways that can only be noticed when we pay attention to the opportunities we are presented with, and allow ourselves to take them. 

So I did just that. I finally found the courage to take better care of myself and making it a priority. That year was full of softness and whole heartedness. It felt like discovering the essence of who I was. 

Since I was struggling with commitment (still), I focused on one self-loving activity at the time. A few weeks mostly meditating. A few weeks mostly doing yoga. A few weeks getting back to journaling. I thought I could choose which activity I would keep, but realised they all were giving me so much, and yet so differently that I wanted to keep them all. 

I would still create more and more, and take my work as a psychologist to another level, and was struggling to make everything fit in my daily time. Now that I knew better what kind of life I wanted, I felt stuck at making it work as a whole.

So I dedicated last year to finding Balance. I loved it so much. It was like deepening everything I had built in the previous three years. The courage, the creative energy and the love. 

It taught me how to be more flexible and finding way to make things stick, one step at a time, one day at a time and to honour my pace. I set up a few challenges to help on the way. Strengthened my morning routine that felt easier and more necessary than an evening one (currently working on that). 

I explored how my love for art, psychology and writing could be intertwined. It felt like coming home to myself. 

This “year” actually took a little bit more time. I used to choose my word of the year at the end of summer. But last September, I felt stuck. I had just moved to the other side of the globe (another marvellous consequence of all that personal inner journey), felt completely thrown out of balance and quite depleted. 

Then, a few weeks ago, after a few months finding my footing back, it was suddenly obvious. What I struggled with and had to practice the most lately was letting go : finding ways to trust myself, my intuition and the process. I’d say in short : trusting the universe and finding the flow. 

So this year will be my year of flow.

I started by deciding that my practice could now fit better at the beginning of the year rather the school year, the end of the year being a perfect time to reflect and gather our bearings, taking stock. 

When I’m down, finding flow is about giving myself the time and space necessary to heal, letting go of the shoulds and musts. 

When I’m really happy, it’s more about finding pace, not over doing it. 

It is already teaching me how to let go of things, people and spaces that were really important at a time, but became depleting over time. I have never ever felt as free and can’t wait to see more of what this year is going to teach me. 

Choosing one word to devote every year to has with no doubt changed my whole life from the inside out. Like a soothing lighthouse in the dark, it gives me a focus point to always rely on. 

I am never feeling like time passed by without my awareness anymore, being intentional makes time pass more slowly and mindfully. It is helping me to remind myself over and over what is important, and what gets in the way and distract me. It is teaching me more about myself than I ever felt possible. It is allowing me to create the life I really want. 

If reading that essay inspired you to find your own word, I would love nothing more than to know which one you chose and maybe why f you would feel comfortable sharing. 

Here are a few questions that can help to start : What are you feeling like you lack of? What would your ideal 2019 be devoted to? What is preventing you from living your best life right now?

Write your answers down and any word that come up too : it will help you a lot to make it real, tangible. The right one for you will spark something in your body when you write it or if you start making art around it. Let yourself feel it, and trust it. Your heart knows.

See you soon,  Love,  L.