#long story short my home/family/work/financial situations are just so ... not great ...

[techn0tony]

Today is sucking a lot, and my anxiety has sky-rocketed, so I am going to be making an unreasonable amount of art to cope ... haha ...

[literaticat]

I was recently asked to do a panel event at a library in a neighboring county. The organizer said I could sell my books there, but when I inquired further she meant that literally, as they can't partner with any bookstores. I explained that as a trad pubbed author, selling my own books isn't something I can really do (at least not without a lot of weird financial/tax repercussions) and she said I could have people scan a QR code leading to my publisher's site to purchase and just provide them with book plates. I'm torn whether to do this event or not. On one hand, I'm sure it will be very fun, I do love supporting libraries, and I don't want to seem like a diva. On the other, I know that my time and energy are worth money, and I'd basically be doing this for free since I doubt I'll sell much via QR code. I am far enough into my career and successful enough that I'm not really interested in doing things just for the exposure. What would you recommend in this situation?

(ETA: sorry in advance, this came out lengthy, scroll to the bottom for my succinct answer if that's all you care about, OP!)

I think you have a good head on your shoulders, and it's smart to value your own time and energy. Yes, you should be paid for school visits and talks and that kind of thing, especially any that require travel, etc, UNLESS they are being sponsored by the publisher, like as part of an organized tour, and there will definitely be book sales, in which case, hey, you aren't going out of pocket and those can be QUITE good for sales.

But it is also a fact that sometimes, you will end up doing things for free, without remuneration and without a guarantee of huge sales, for any number of reasons: for charity, because you believe in the mission of whatever-it-is, for marketing/publicity purposes, or even just because it will be fun!

So you need to just do your own cost-benefit analysis. They'll do the QR code, which is nice, but you aren't guaranteed any sales, so let's say this event will definitely make you zero dollars. OK -- What are the Good Points vs Pain (in the Ass) Points?

For good points: Will it generate goodwill amongst your community or with people whose opinions you value? Is it for a charity or cause you believe in? Will there be potentially decision-makers there -- like librarians or teachers who might love your presentation and want to PAY you to participate in something later? Will it be FUN? Will there be other authors there that you want to meet / network with / hang out with / become besties with? How big a reach will this potentially have? (In other words - are we talking 5 people, or 500 people? Is it an event that might be covered by media? Because while you don't want to do things "just for exposure" when that exposure is dubious -- some great exposure wouldn't hurt!)

For PITA points: How much time will it take out of your life? (Include preparing for it, traveling to it, attending it, getting home, and decompressing from it)? Would it be costing you anything money-wise (gas money counts!)? Would it potentially take a toll on your health (mental health counts!)? Would you have to give up anything that would be MORE important to you in order to do it? (writing time, family obligations, time with your pets?) ETC.

The answers to these will be different from one situation to another, or even from person to person (after all, one person's "fun schmooze" thing is another person's "terrible chore"!) -- so weigh these options FOR YOU and see what you come up with.

Long story short:

It's good practice to say YES to anything that you can comfortably do to promote your book if you are getting paid for it or if the upsides outweigh the downsides.

But it's also healthy to have boundaries, and to say NO when that is not the case.

If you are going to say NO (again, a perfectly valid answer!), do so as early as possible, be extremely nice, and just say you are so sorry, you can't make it work, and best of luck with the event. DON'T frame it as "I only do PAID events" or anything like that -- that WILL make you sound like a diva from hell, even if that isn't the case! DON'T agree to it and then back out, because then you are putting them in the position of not having an event at all or having to scramble, ruining the thing they have spent time promoting, yadda yadda.

So in this case: If you haven't agreed to the event, and you decide the PITA points outweigh the good points, it's fine to decline. If you've already agreed to the event and it's happening soon, just suck it up and do it, lesson learned for next time.

[tobesolonely]

queen anne’s coffee

A/N: hello everyone! I am not D/deaf or Hard of Hearing. However, this was requested more than once I wanted to do my best to provide. In this story, Y/N is a part of the Deaf community. if I have misrepresented the Deaf community in any way or wrote something inaccurate or offensive, then please DO NOT hesitate to let me know (respectfully, of course!) i wanted to fulfill this person’s request and be as inclusive as i could, as i don’t typically see stories with a Deaf!reader. shes short and sweet but i hope you all enjoy anyway! as always, feedback is very much welcomed and appreciated! :)

Summary: Y/N visits Harry’s coffee shop every Tuesday and Thursday and always orders the same thing. Harry HAS to get to know her!!!

word count: ~1.7k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Every Tuesday and Thursday at exactly 3:50 PM, Y/N placed an online order that consisted of an iced chai tea latte with oat milk and a butter croissant from Harry’s coffee shop, Queen Anne’s Coffee.

Y/N never forgot to add, “warmed up pls! thank you :)” in the section for comments, and she always tipped. She would then come into Harry’s shop approximately ten minutes later, walk up to the ‘pickup’ counter, grab her items, smile at Harry, and promptly leave. Harry never even so much as said hello to her, but he was irrevocably captivated––even if she was a complete stranger.

Harry decided that when Y/N came in today for her usual, he’d finally talk to her.

Business had been unusually slow for a Thursday afternoon but Harry didn’t mind–when Y/N came in, he’d be able to have a proper chat with her without having to rush the conversation along to help other customers. His gaze kept floating up to the cat-shaped clock hanging above the door, anxiously awaiting 3:50 PM when Y/N’s order would come through on the iPad and he got to read the words, “warmed up pls! thank you :)”

Harry didn’t know why he was so nervous to speak to her. As the owner of his very own coffee shop (and it’s only employee), he got to know the people who came in regularly well, even developing genuine friendships with some. It bothered Harry that this beautiful person gave him business two days a week and the only thing he knew about her was her name, which is only because he can see it when she places her order online.

When the iPad Harry keeps plugged up atop the counter chimes, he doesn’t even have to glance at it to know it was Y/N but he does anyway, feelings of excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He was finally going to talk to her! Harry contemplates scribbling his number on the side of her cup as he’s writing her name but decides against it, not wanting to be too forward before they even formally meet.

When Y/N comes in ten minutes later, Harry can immediately sense something is wrong. She hardly looks up once as she shuffles from the door to the counter, hoodie pulled up and drawn tight over her head.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N doesn’t look up or even acknowledge the fact that Harry spoke. Even though there’s only two other people in the shop besides them, Harry figures she might think he was talking to someone else and addresses her by name.

“Y/N?”

She still doesn’t address Harry as she gives him a small smile before hurriedly exiting the shop, the bell above the door signaling her exit.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

When Tuesday comes, Harry’s out of bed before his alarm jolts him from his dreams.

He thought about Y/N all weekend as he impatiently awaited Tuesday’s arrival, excited over the prospect of finally seeing her again. He hoped she was doing better today than she was last week, and he really hoped she was in the mood to chat with him today.

Harry’s grateful the shop is busy today. It helps to keep his mind off of Y/N, and his eyes off the clock. When the iPad chimes at 3:50 on the dot, Harry decides he’ll wait until she comes in to prepare her order. It didn’t take him over two minutes, anyway. He figures this will give him a bit more time to chat with her, at least say hello and see if she’s doing better.

Much to his pleasure, Y/N has a big smile on her face when she bursts through the door ten minutes later. She floats to the pickup counter, then furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she looks up at Harry.

“Sorry, I’m working on your order right now,” Harry grabs a purple marker off the counter, scribbling Y/N’s name on the cup used for iced drinks. “How’s your day so far?”

Harry watches as Y/N cocks her head to the side in confusion, then pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. She quickly types something before holding her phone out for Harry to take.

“I can’t hear you! I’m Deaf.”

A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he reads what she said. He now understood why Y/N didn’t answer him when he tried speaking to her last week, and he’s secretly relieved that she wasn’t ignoring him because she hated him or anything like that.

“I know a bit of sign!” Harry types before handing Y/N back her phone. He watches as her eyes skim his words and she looks up, a toothy grin plastered on her face.

“Great! This is much faster.” Her hands move quickly as she signs. “Did my order work or not? Wi-Fi is bad at home today.”

Harry realizes he doesn’t know as much sign language as he thought he did.

“OK. I am rusty.”

Y/N smiles at this and pulls her phone back out, typing what she just signed to him before passing it back to him. A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he learns she was just asking if her order came through alright, seeing as it was not yet ready. Too embarrassed to tell her he intentionally waited until she arrived to prepare her order, he just nods.

“I’ll have it ready in no more than two minutes… and refund you, too. I’m sorry for the wait.” Harry looks up at Y/N as he passes the phone to her, eyes not leaving her face as he tries to gauge her reaction.

“No!” Her head shakes as she signs. “Happy to pay. Thank you.”

Harry understands Y/N but refunds her, anyway.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Why do you always come Tuesday and Thursday? Same time?”

“Exams every Tuesday and Thursday.” The look of obvious dissatisfaction on Y/N’s face makes Harry laugh. “Your chai and pastries cheer me up after.”

Harry’s face turns red at Y/N’s admittance, so he instead looks down, pretending he’s distracted by something on the iPad. He decides at that moment that he will no longer charge Y/N for her oat milk latte and croissant. She was a college student after all––if her financial situation was like Harry’s in any way when he was in college earning his business degree, it would probably be beneficial for her to save her money, anyhow.

Ever since Harry and Y/N’s first real interaction, Y/N had been coming into Queen Anne’s nearly every day, school supplies and laptop in tow. She always sat at the table closest to the front counter, directly in Harry’s line of vision so they could sign to each other.

Y/N provided Harry with some much needed (and enjoyed) company when business was slow, and she was helping him brush up on his sign language. Harry learned that Y/N is Deaf; her hearing is completely gone in her left ear and almost completely gone in the right. She’s the only person in her family who is Deaf. She also hated eggs, is lactose intolerant (hence the oat milk), has two older siblings, is a master’s student, and a plethora of other things that Harry had committed to memory.

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoy.”  

“Who is A-N-N-E?”

Harry grins. “My mother. Back in London.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “London? Amazing! You must have an accent.”

It dawns on Harry that Y/N has never heard his voice before. “Yes. Are you from here?” Y/N nods in response.

“Whole life. Small town, but it’s home.” Her pinched hand moves quickly from her mouth up to her ear.

“Sorry. What?”

“H-O-M-E.”

A look of realization floods Harry’s face as he nods in response, signaling for Y/N to give him a moment as the bell above the entrance jingles. It seems as if the few people who walk through the door act as a catalyst for others to enter, and soon Queen Anne’s is at maximum occupancy and Harry is trying to make several drinks at once while taking orders. He locks eyes with Y/N a few times and she gives him a sympathetic look, not able to do much to help him out.

Harry decides that once business dies back down, he’ll find out if Y/N is interested in a part-time job.

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was interested in a part-time job.

She was a fast learner and a hard worker. Harry was more than delighted to show her how to make every drink on the menu, and consume her failed attempts. It was nice having someone else behind the counter with him––he wished he’d gone about hiring someone to help him much sooner, but he was glad to now have Y/N by his side.

“So much chai! I thought only I drank this stuff.”

Harry’s gaze lingers on Y/N for a beat too long, causing her to shift slightly. Harry’s hand moves to scratch the back of his neck. “Yes. I like chai. With milk.” His hand forms a ‘C’ then closes to form an ‘S’ twice for the word “milk”.

“Regular?” One of Y/N’s eyebrows raises as she asks her question, setting a hot chai latte atop the “pickup” counter.

“S-O-Y.”

Y/N lets out a quiet snort of laughter as she shakes her head. It was the first time Harry ever made her laugh out loud. After hearing her laugh once, he never wanted to stop––it was music to his ears. “Not surprised!”

Harry’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Why?” His eyes remain on Y/N as she walks around the small area, cleaning up a small coffee spill she had earlier.

“You just are a S-O-Y boy, H. My S-O-Y boy!”

Harry’s cheeks immediately turn pink as they did the first time Y/N said something that flustered him, but he doesn’t look away.

“You’re my O-A-T girl.”

⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thank you everyone for reading!!! This is only the beginning of Y/N and Harry I think <33

[peach-astrology]

Mars in the houses

Mars in the first house:

1)A very strong and brave person.He can be quick-tempered,but due to his perseverance and strong character,he wins competitions and is a good opponent.

2)Depending on the position of Mars in the sign and its aspects,but in any case,a person(karmically)must work hard in life- both in the external world and in the internal,and especially devote a lot of effort to the formation of his personality.

3)People often fall in love with you.You are very inspiring to other people,please don't give up,you are really cool.

4)I noticed that people in this position have unusual facial features.For example,they have thick or unruly hair, freckles,or a sly and strong look.Most often they are high.

5)They value honesty and realism.They don't like to think much about philosophical things.

Mars in the second house:

1)Hardworking and very fond of money.They like to build a successful and long-term career.

2)This arrangement indicates people who are talkative,it is useless to argue with them.They are skilled in mathematics,earn money through real estate,are interested in politics and say frankly what they think.They sing or have the ability to work on the radio.

3)Bad aspects can indicate frequent financial and property crises.A person spends as quickly as he earns.He needs to learn to control his spending.

4)If a person has Mars in Capricorn/Scorpio/Aries,then he is guaranteed monetary success.He is enterprising,active,sees a large number of opportunities around him and uses them one hundred percent.

5)The good aspects point to the comfortable and favorite work of humans.It works not only for money,but also for pleasure.He is proud of himself and his position.

Mars in the third house:

1)Person is impatient.The last thing he likes to do is wait a long time for a response to his messages.Such a person can show pressure in business situations,and often achieves what he wants through courage and a natural gift of persuasion.

2)By the way,often Mars in the 3rd house has a great interest in technology,and therefore can fix a lot himself in the mechanism of a car,motorcycle or bicycle.

3)Good aspects indicate a strong and inquisitive mind,bad aspects indicate poor memory and learning problems.

4)You are witty and completely outspoken,and sometimes tactless.Active intellectual work is suitable for you.

5)If you have a brother or sister,they may have Scorpio/Aries placements.They can also be hot-tempered,get involved in boxing or make a permanent mess at home.

Mars in the fourth house:

1)He knows how to cool his ardor at the right time.They often want to be in charge of the family.They like to do the renovation and decoration of their home.

2)In 99% of cases,they have problems with their parents or family.Their characters are too different.

3)You may have been brought up in harsh or unpleasant conditions,so you have little trust in people and comfort is very important to you.You don't want to repeat the mistakes of your parents,so you can seriously get carried away with books about parenting and going to psychologists.There's nothing wrong with that!

4)With bad aspects,mental disorders and deep mental suffering are possible.Good aspects increase strength and energy,activity and enterprise and create an opportunity to acquire real estate and implement ideas,plans and goals.

5)I often noticed this position in people who worked hard and studied hard to support their families.They are very caring and loving,but they may not show it because of stress or fatigue.

Mars in the fifth house:

1)You love competitions,arguments and adventures.If you are the captain of the team,then you will definitely win.You are able to maintain team spirit and you are comfortable working in a friendly team.

2)The 5th house sometimes points to our children,so I just wish you patience.Your child may be too active or disobedient,try to teach from childhood to love to learn,otherwise there may be problems in the future.It can also be a Sun Aries or Scorpio.

3)In general,you are not boring.Positive aspects indicate that you are the soul of the company or you are often approached to get acquainted.Bad aspects indicate risky and dangerous actions.Think a thousand times before you do something.

4)I'm sorry to frighten you,but my book says that giving birth to such people is very difficult.Carefully monitor your health.

5)You are a sensual and passionate nature.You flirt well,which makes you even more attractive.

Mars in the sixth house:

1)Perfectionists,so they can be trusted with difficult and responsible work.They may be too lazy or too hardworking.They love to thoroughly understand complex mechanisms and processes,they like to process and analyze information,put everything on the shelves,optimize their activities.

2)Their main goal is not money and career growth.It is more important for them to get satisfaction from achievements and results in order to feel happy.

3)This is a born analyst who logically approaches the solution of problems and tasks.Relies on the brain,not the heart,to make decisions.He is a practitioner all the knowledge that he receives in the process of life,immediately applies.

4)He will try to create the most comfortable living conditions for his family.It is important for him to feel stability and be confident in the future.

5)With bad aspects,such people tend to be picky and grumpy.

Mars in the seventh house:

1)An unpleasant position,there is a possibility of a toxic or aggressive partner.Their partner can be a little brash,rude,or rebellious.On the other hand,it often indicates a partner with a lot of energy and plans.He is stubborn and always achieves his goals.

2)His opponents are strong and assertive,and fights with them often end in serious injuries physical or financial.He often gets into trouble and easily gets involved in quarrels.

3)The bad aspects point to divorce.

4)He was used to acting quickly and confidently towards others.Sometimes he shows excessive pressure and strong-willed influence,which is perceived negatively by others.With soft and sensitive people,such a person is not on the way.

5)You are a great competitor,so you can work in politics,sports or business.

Mars in the eighth house:

1)You are very sensitive to the topic of money and probably want to have more of it than you have now.You reach out to people who already have money or obviously want wealth.

2)For bad aspects,I sincerely recommend not taking out loans or spending property or huge amounts of money.There is a high probability of not paying back the debt and spending money on the wind.Read the contracts carefully.

3)Good aspects create a sense of benefit.Such a person knows who to make deals with,he has a profitable and active job.

4)Monitor the health of the genitals.Avoid fire and cutting objects and treat wounds carefully.

5)They like to explore theories and riddles.They are very curious and they like mysticism,they can like detectives.

Mars in the ninth house:

1)You may have been disliked by your teachers because you tend to express your opinions.You are the kings of discussion and know how to defend your point of view.

2)Such people love to learn.They have a broad outlook,but their brain doesn’t immediately understand the explanation,so they often learn in their own way.Sometimes this position indicates self-taught people.

3)Negative aspects indicate short temper and stubbornness.Such people argue for the sake of argument.Positive aspects indicate fairness.Such a person is interested in the opinions of other people and tries to expand their knowledge.

4)Often such people work according to their own regime.They can be freelancers or have a night job.

5)Very good position for businessmen.A person with such a position has good managerial abilities,purposefulness and great vital energy.

Mars in the tenth house:

1)He is very independent and responsible,knows how to make decisions and is not afraid to take the initiative.

2)He can quickly become successful,and then also quickly find himself at the bottom.His life is an endless series of ups and downs.

3)In the negative aspect,Mars makes a person conflicted,aggressive.In a positive aspect,it indicates success.His career is very important to him.But family and personal relationships often take a back seat.

4)Such a person may have a problematic relationship with his mother.

5)They know how to work in competition.In life(with bad aspects),almost all people are seen as enemies.Maybe there was some kind of psychological trauma.

Mars in the eleventh house:

1)You work well in collaboration with others who share your goals,ideals,and intentions.You can inspire people to work towards a common goal.

2)If he is passionate about something,he strives to bring it to the end and get a concrete result.

3)He's friends with all sorts of people.Nationality,level of education and status in society are not important here.The main thing is to have common hobbies,aspirations and desires.

4)Positive aspects indicate the qualities of an excellent organizer.It inspires and appeals to other people.Negative aspects create problems with people.He is often betrayed or deceived.

5)Such a person never adapts to someone.If you have different views on life or different characters,that such people will say goodbye to you.They don't fucking need to change you.

Mars in the twelfth house:

1)Watch your feet very carefully.Wear comfortable shoes,play football carefully and don’t overdo it with the stretch.

2)He doesn’t give the impression of an active and active person.Others often underestimate him.

3)He has a good imagination.He does a lot of his work intuitively.Such a person can’t always explain in words how he came to this result.

4)Very good position for astrologers,fortune tellers or psychics.Their work is often associated with something mystical or creative.They like detective stories and psychology.

5)You may have quite a lot of energy and energy,you lack confidence or just the desire to put yourself and your interests first.Love being alone at work.You like to help.

[usernoneexistent]

April 6th - Regret

A/N: This is my darkest story, the rest will be more fluff I promise. Juniper is pretty much spiralling downwards into a dark place so this is another side to her. Warnings: Mention of drug abuse, possible alcohol abuse, swearing, family argument, depression.

Spring Break Masterpost here

"Jacob? Is that really you!?" The short woman rushed out of the stone house. She pulled the tall boy now young man into a giant embrace. She pulled back to take a closer look at both how he changed and yet hasn't at the same time. Juniper stood and watched the reunion. Oh, how their mum must have aged ten years to Jacob. Julia finally lets go and hugs her daughter, Juniper was afraid her mum would be mad at her but it was quite the opposite. Relief. Relief for both her children back home and safe. But also different. None of them was the same people ten years ago, practically three strangers to one another.

"Let's go inside and have some tea," Julia suggested. The last thing anyone of them wanted to talk about was pretty much everything that had happened from the past years.

The house hasn't changed much. Even Jacob's bedroom was left exactly how he left it. Mr Mosley rubbed himself against his leg, the tabby had more silver hairs flaked throughout nonetheless, he still remembered Jacob. It was a weird feeling to be back after so long. The kettle steamed up with hot water as Julia got out the finest china teacup. She usually sets them out for special occasions.

"I have noticed yer hair is much shorter than it used to," Julia commented. Starting some small talk between them.

"Aye, but I'm growing it oot now," Jacob chuckled.

"Aye, it looked better long than short," Juniper chimed in. 

Mewles flew through the kitchen window, dropping a bunch of letters. They said either from Penny, Ben, some Talbotts and lots of Charlies and many others were written on the envelopes. They're probably off on their spring holiday right now. This was meant to be Juniper's last end of term holiday, before the whole expulsion. She wanted to write back and tell them she was okay but another part of her just wanted to be alone.

Julia poured the teas carefully, "I'm just happy yous are both safe. My heart almost stopped when I heard about the expulsion in the newspaper."

Juniper looked away with shame. Her mum was taking it quite well, having not just one but two kids expelled from Hogwarts. 

"Sorry ma," She said just loud enough for them to hear, "I ken I promised you that I wouldn't get into serious trouble-"

"Trouble runs in our family," Julia assured her but also felt like an excuse. A simple explanation to cover problems that run deeper, "It can't be helped."

"I ken that but I mean for oor future, how we get money," Her voice wobbled a little. She hated how nonchalant her mother was about their financial situation. They can't rely upon her dad forever and his family. It felt like they were indebted to them, which was something Juniper hated. She wanted nothing to do with the Hasni family anymore. 

"We always have the pub," Her mum deflected. 

"We don't own the pub, not since Grandpa racked up so much debt to uncle Jimmy!" She exclaimed, horrified by the suggestion. 

"We can always work it off," She shrugged. 

"Aye, it would be a great way for me to work," Jacob backed behind their mum, "It doesn't require any NEWTs."

Juniper stared at them. Neither of them really understood the gravity of their situation. She finally gets why her father pushed her so hard in maths and accounting. The responsibility of keeping their finances in check has been thrown on her shoulders since she was seven. Both Jacob and her mum probably have never even seen the family accounting book.

"Even if we work at the pub, it still won't make enough to pay back fully plus pay taxes on time!" She argued, "One of us is gonna need a better paying and stable job!"

"Aye, like either of us actually have any NEWTs." Jacob remarked. His words pierced Juniper in the gut. That's their new reality. Job prosperity is pretty much down the drain for them, but Juniper doesn't want to give up yet. She still has her OWLs and youth to find something. 

"I'll find something, I promise," She can't be bothered to explain in detail why it was so important to her to find a good job. The mood sour significantly. 

"I'm sure you'll both find something," Julia held their hands, but Juniper moved her hand away rejecting the comforting gesture. 

"Juno, don't be like this," Her mum sighed. It bothered her, that her mum and her brother's concern doesn't match hers. Her next words are something that she knew was going to regret, "Why don't you get a fucking job!?"

"Juniper!"

"Pip!"

Her words plastered their faces with shock and appal. Should she stop and say sorry or dig her grave deeper? Oh, screw it! Screw it! Screw it! Screw it! She didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered now. Her future was ruined, by both her and by either people trying to kill her or stopping her in other ways. The ministry of magic is gonna be a pain in her ass for the rest of her life. 

Everyone will treat her as wasted potential anyway. What was the point? What was the point of any of this?

"You've been moping around for years at home drugged up on fucking draughts," She started.

"That's no fair Pip!" Jacob butted in. 

"Let me finish," She glared, "I looked after you and the hoose! I did the cooking! I did the cleaning! I did our banking! I did the shopping and what did you do? Nothing! I practically raised maself!"

Julia sat there, taking in the verbal onslaught silently. She quickly wiped away tears. Jacob rushed over with a hankie, hugging and soothing his mum. Juniper's own cheeks were wet from angry tears. Without much thought, she grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey from their liquor cabinet and left the room. Jacob followed her and grabbed her arm, "What the fuck was that 'bout!?"

"Just fucking leave me alone," She released herself from his grip. 

"Go back and apologise to ma!" He commanded. 

She had no retorts or rebuttals left in her. Juniper just wanted to be alone and empty her mind. They stared in a battle of wills, well, for Jacob but the young woman had made up her mind and marched out of the door with a slam. Unconsciously, she found herself at the cliff that she and Jacob would play nearby when they were younger. The good old days. She opened the firewhiskey and downed it in one go. The liquid burned her throat but she didn't care. She stared out at the sea with her wish of emptying her mind.

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 8

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, smut 

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s @xiuweetbbh

Masterlist

For Baekhyun, the first half of the week was spent preparing. For the first date of all first dates. A first date that would be heart flutteringly romantic, yet private and comfortable. Exciting, but also intimate. Something where he could talk to you, where he could touch you if he wants, where nobody else could see and judge. But also somewhere where he wouldn’t be able to bend you over and take you if you decided to start teasing him again. That would need to wait until after the date, for which he also had big plans. 

 Endless phone calls were made. Flowers, chocolates, and champagne needed to be bought. His mind was set, this date would be nothing short of perfect. So perfect in fact, that you would have no choice but to fall for him the same way he’d fallen for you. The man was dedicated. 

First though, he needed to ask you in a way that would guarantee a yes Baekhyun, I would love to go on a date with you, and not just an ‘okay’. 

His first stop was the florist, owned by his friend Minseok. It was a quaint little shop where he knew he’d be able to get a perfect custom arrangement with all your favorite flowers. Little did you know Baekhyun had used his professor status to look up Mia’s school email, and had been in contact with her in order to make sure he got the best possible things to fit your preferences.  

“Lilies and roses, those are her favorites. As many of them as you’ll give me.”

Minseok ended up putting together a box, a wide white cylinder overflowing with lilies and roses in all shades of white, red, and pink. It was big, a bit extravagant, and quite expensive. But Baekhyun did not care, if anything he was trying to go as over the top as possible, to really show how much he cared and wanted to make this special. No purchase was too large, no gift too much. 

The chocolates were imported from Switzerland. A large box with endless flavor varieties, each one more delicious than the last. The last time he’d had them had been on vacation in Europe, and it was not so easy for him to get his hands on them outside of the EU. But after a few phone calls, he had them on their way over with 2-day shipping. 

Baekhyun wasn’t one to usually spend much money at all. Not because he didn’t have it, he just didn’t feel the need. He had a nice home and a nice car. There wasn’t anything he regularly bought, aside from food. Most purchases would either be related to movies and games online, or would be for his friends. 

But he loved spending money on you, because for the first time in his life there was a girl who cared about more than just his family’s wealth. You actually cared about him. He’d never wanted to spoil someone like this before out of fear that they might only stick around for the financial benefits, but that didn’t worry him when it came to you. He found it almost laughable that after so many years of dating ‘proper’ women, women his family would’ve liked, women who looked great on paper but brought him no excitement and used him for his money, he finally found someone who actually cared for him at a strip club. The universe sometimes works in mysterious ways, he told himself. 

Once the chocolates had arrived and he had acquired the flowers, it was time to get going. 

~

Wednesday afternoon you and Mia decided to put away your homework for a while and bake something together. Apple pie was the agreed upon project for the day. You were in the process of slicing up the apples when you started to wonder just what was taking Baekhyun so long, after all he’d already told you he was going to ask you out. Why couldn’t he just do it? 

“I wonder why Baekhyun still hasn’t actually asked me on a date yet, he said he was going to on Saturday and it’s Wednesday. Do you think he might’ve changed his mind?” 

Mia had to work to hold back her smile. Not only did she know when he planned on coming to ask, she knew the exact flowers and chocolates he was bringing, as well as the date and time of the date itself, all of which Baekhyun had carefully discussed with her. 

“He definitely hasn’t changed his mind, that’s for sure. He’s probably just taking his time to make sure it’s special.” 

“He’s only asking me on a date. He could literally just text me. It’s not like I’ll say no anyway.” 

At that, Mia couldn’t help but crack up. Maybe that was the norm for college guys, but Baekhyun? Ask you in a text? After everything he’d done? It was laughable. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing!” Mia said and put two hands up in the air in defense, but you’d known your best friend for long enough to tell when she was lying. 

“You know something. Tell me.” You demanded, taking your apple slicing knife and pointing it towards her. 

“Get that away from me! And my lips are sealed, sorry.” 

No matter how much you annoyed her about it, she wasn’t going to tell you. Not only was she sworn to secrecy, she wanted you to enjoy the surprise. 

“Come on, did he say something to you? Just tell me.” 

“I’m not saying anything. You’ll just have to see, but I promise it’ll be worth the wait.” 

“You are so evil.” 

“You still love me” 

The pie was eventually assembled and put into the oven, at which point you returned back to your own room to continue doing homework. Mia stayed out in the living room, since she knew there was a guest arriving shortly. 

~

It was finally time for Baekhyun to go to your house to ask. After approximately 30 minutes of just making sure his hair looked right, he finally grabbed the chocolates and flowers and got on his way. 

It was a pretty warm day, but even with the AC blasting as high as it would go Baekhyun was still sweating. He knew you would say yes, but his hands felt slippery on the steering wheel of his car anyway. It had been almost 5 years since he had last done this, since he had asked a girl out. It had been even longer since he’d asked someone out that he was actually excited to spend time with, and really hoped would say yes. 

The closer he got to your home, the more nervous he became. He couldn’t even explain to himself why. He knew you were home, he knew you would say yes, he knew you were free the day he was going to take you out, and he knew he had the perfect gifts. This was exactly why he’d interrogated Mia via email for days, but when it actually came down to it he couldn’t help worrying. What if you were mad that it took him so long to ask and wouldn’t wanna go anymore? What if something came up last minute and you wouldn’t be able to? He wasn’t sure if his heart would be able to take a response like that. Especially since setting up the date itself had been a whole other story, one that not even Mia knew about. 

Baekhyun could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he got the chocolates and flowers out of his trunk and started walking up to your front door. When he knocked, Mia was the one to answer. 

“Hi Baekhyun!” She said, looking him up and down, and then to the flowers and chocolates he was holding, a wide grin on her face. “I’ll go get her.” 

You heard your name being yelled from the living room so you peeled your thighs off your desk chair and made your way into the common space to see Baekhyun, holding the most enormous flower arrangement you’d ever seen. 

Mia went to her room, leaving you standing before him, slightly flabbergasted. 

“Sorry I didn’t do this sooner, but can I take you out on Saturday?” He asked, peeking over the mountain of flowers that hid the bottom of his face. 

You immediately grinned and nodded enthusiastically, pulling Baekhyun through the doorway. You grabbed the flower arrangement and set it down on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch with him. 

“I would’ve asked days ago already but I wanted to bring these too and it takes a little while for them to get shipped from Switzerland.” 

The flowers had distracted you so much you hadn’t even noticed the box of chocolates he was holding as well. 

“Baekhyun this is crazy, how much did all of this cost?” 

He only rolled his eyes. “You know none of that matter, I just want to make you happy, okay? And you like them right?” 

“Well of course I love chocolate, and the flowers are beautiful, roses and lilies are my favorites.” 

“I know.” He grinned at you.

“I never told you that?” 

“I might’ve found your friend’s school email...” 

Your eyes widened. “You did not-” 

“Professors have access to every students files and that includes school email addresses, and you mentioned her a few times so I figured I would ask her some stuff.” His hand made its way to the back of his neck and he looked down at the ground nervously. “Sorry if that’s weird, I just wanted to make sure I’d get the right things and that you wouldn’t already be busy or anything.” 

You smiled “It’s alright, this is definitely the most anyone's ever done for me for a first date, or any date for that matter, sorry if I don’t really know how to act right now.” 

“Nobody’s ever bought you flowers or chocolates before? Really? Are those boys you go to school with that dumb?” 

“I don’t really date around much anyway, and maybe once or twice for valentines day or something, but definitely never like this.”

“Well you deserve to be showered in flowers and chocolates all the time.” He smiled and grabbed the box and untied the fancy looking ribbon holding it together, and removed the lid. “Try one, this stuff is crazy, no other chocolate has been the same since I first tried it on vacation in the alps a few years ago.”

Of course he went on fancy European vacations. You wondered if someday you’d get to tag along. 

He picked a piece and held it up to your mouth and you took it between your lips. He was right, it was amazing. 

“Oh my god this is so good. Holy shit.” He was right, this would pretty much ruin all other chocolate for you. 

He watched you as you finished eating it and placed a hand on your chin, bringing your eyes to meet his. “Give me a taste.” 

He pulled you in for a slow open mouthed kiss, savoring the flavor of the chocolate on your tongue and leaving you breathless. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to get used to the way he kissed you. He was so good at making you feel like your insides were melting with desire it felt almost dangerous. 

“You’re intoxicating, I could kiss you all day.” He said as he pulled away from the kiss just enough to speak. You could feel his breath on your face and his eyes as they bore into your own. 

“Oh come on you’re just saying that because of the chocolate.” You laughed as you pulled away further, face now a bright shade of pink. 

“The chocolate is amazing, but your lips are even better.”

“God you’re so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes at him, but he still just smiled back. “So where are you taking me Saturday?”

“It’s a surprise, I’ll pick you up here around 3:00 and it’ll be a bit of a drive but I promise it’ll be well worth it.” 

“Can you give me a hint at least? Will there be food? What should I wear?” 

“Yes there will be food, and just wear something comfortable and weather appropriate.”  He considered it for a moment, trying to think of something that wouldn’t be too obvious. “It’s an outdoor thing, and something I’m almost 100% sure you’ve never done before, but that’s all you’re getting out of me. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“You’re so mean.” You pouted. “You make me wait for days and now you won’t even say where you’re taking me.” You really wondered what was so special that he couldn’t just tell you. It was only a first date so it wouldn’t be anything that extravagant anyway right? 

“Once you see you’ll understand why I want to keep it secret, just trust me, okay?” You rolled your eyes again, “Hey, y/n, look at me.” 

He put his hand on your thigh before giving you a serious look. “I know this might not seem like that big of a deal to you, but it’s been over 5 years since I’ve taken someone out like this, and even longer since I’ve been this excited to. I just, I really want to make this special, so can you trust me?”  

You gave him a soft smile and a nod. “Of course, I'm impatient is all... And I haven’t really done this in a while either...” 

“It’s really shocking to me how someone as beautiful as you doesn’t have a constant stream on boys trying to take you out.” You chucked, and thought back to Lucas and how he’d asked you to a party. 

“Me and college boys don’t really mix well, I’m not someone who enjoys big parties and they usually aren’t really interested in getting to know me anyway, or once they do they realize I’m just a boring STEM major. You saw that guy Lucas, I’m sure he was just hoping I’d go party with him and get wasted enough to end up in his bed. No thank you.” 

“He was so pushy too.” Baekhyun said as his face fell into a frown at the unpleasant memory. 

“Boys will ask me out sometimes, sure, but it’s always just to a party or a movie or something, somewhere you can’t really have any kind of meaningful conversation anyway, so I assume they just want to sleep with me. And I’m not really interested in that.” 

“You seemed more than happy to let me rail you in my office last week.” Baekhyun laughed, making your face blush an even deeper shade of red.

“That’s different!” You said in defense, giving a light slap to his shoulder. “You’re not some college boy, and we have technically known each other for a while already.” 

Baekhyun had a wide smile plastered on his face again, “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m the one who had to keep it from happening.” 

“Which I still think was pretty lame of you...” 

He caught your eyes again, before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Baby I’ll make sure that was worth the wait too.” 

You shivered, and as soon as he had pulled away you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him and pull him into another kiss. He quickly deepened the kiss and pulled you onto his lap. The two of you sat like that for a while, exploring each other’s mouths, enjoying the closeness and intimacy of it. Eventually you ended up laying down next to one another, still kissing lazily in each other’s embrace. You knew better than to escalate it into anything sexual now, so you just enjoyed the softness of his lips on yours and his arms wrapped around your waist. 

After some time Baekhyun had to go, and you thanked him again for the chocolates and flowers. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Mia emerged from her bedroom. 

“See! I told you he’d ask soon! Also, he’s even cuter in person.” She giggled and you laughed in agreement. 

“Did he seriously email you about me? What all did he say?” 

“He asked about your favorite everything pretty much, when you’d be home this week for him to ask you, when you’d have time over the weekend, all that. I assumed you wouldn’t mind missing work for the date so I told him Saturday night.” 

“Was there anything else? Any idea where he’s taking me?”

“No, I asked but he wouldn’t tell me either. It was really cute though, the way he was talking about you. He’s seriously whipped.” 

“You don’t say.” You laughed gesturing towards the huge flower arrangement and box of chocolates still on the coffee table. 

“You have to tell me where he takes you, I’m really curious. Did he tell you anything?” 

“Just that it’s outdoors and I don’t need to dress fancy.”

You could tell Mia was thinking, trying to figure what it might be the same way you had. “A picnic maybe?” 

“That feels almost not fancy enough for him, but I don’t know. I really can’t think of anything outdoorsy that nice.” 

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to find out! Come on, let’s cut into this pie.” 

The evening was spent eating pie, and with Mia showing you Baekhyun’s emails to her. They made you feel like your heart might explode from the sweetness and consideration he had when planning everything. He’d even made sure to get you milk chocolate rather than dark chocolate. There were a plethora of other seemingly unrelated questions as well, including your favorite snack foods, colors, and more. You felt a little bad for how much he’d asked her about. 

As the hours went by, you were looking forward to the date more and more.

 Saturday afternoon couldn’t arrive soon enough. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Sorry this one is late and a bit short, but the next update will be *much* more exciting I promise ;) 

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

Everything you never thought to ask and never wanted to know about my Josépan playlist/history with and opinions of the ship.

Intro:

The journey of this playlist has been a long one, starting on Amazon Music and my old, janky and now defunct Ipad.

STRAP IN, CHILDREN AS I TAKE YOU BACK TO A MAGICAL TIME WHEN NEITHER LEGENDS OF THE THREE CABALLEROS; NOR THEIR CAMEO IN DUCKTALES HAD BEEN ANNOUNCED YET, MY BLOG ON TUMBLR DIDN’T EXIST (THOUGH I WAS LURKING) AND PANCHITO WAS STILL THE LEAST POPULAR CABALLERO, otherwise known as around late 2017.

A word on the origins of the playlist:

The playlist was not initially Ducktales focused because the two didn’t exist in Ducktales yet. I was rather unenthusiastic back in the day about this ship (oh how the times change) but I had stumbled across a song that didn’t fit them and Donald but fit just them very well and wanted to make an animatic of it. So, I cobbled together some songs I thought fit the vibe and made a playlist.

The history behind the story that inspired it:

I’ll spare you from starting at the very beginning. But, when “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” premiered I was already thoroughly and utterly obsessed with the cabs; I remember how beyond ecstatic I was for the episode. My hype for the Ducktales versions of José and Panchito continued far beyond what seems to have been normal for the average cabs fan. I found myself drawn to the ideas put forth by those versions of them. I don’t really remember what the tipping point was for me to break down and make my own college AU but eventually I did. It was affectionately dubbed “The TV Show That Will Never Happen AU.” José and Panchito were enemies to lovers or at least to friends. And it was around that time I began to go CRAZY with the headcanons as I got more active in the fandom. While my ideas for the Ducktales versions of them grew and grew, so too did the time between them appearing in “The Town Where Everyone was Nice” and their alleged next appearance in the show. When fans noticed the distinct lack of José and Panchito in the season two finale of Ducktales, Francisco Angones, @//suspenderofdisbelief on Tumblr answered these two separate asks that I might have engraved on tombstone one day:

I was GONE for the ship after that. I developed another AU for them based around their time in Baia trying to get people to fund their attempts to become famous musicians. Also, slowly falling in love... It was affectionately titled “The Fan-Comic that Will Never Happen” but not yet connected to my college AU. I don’t have much of a timeline for it after this point, but with that AU I really hit my stride for interpretations of the two characters and their dynamic. The version of them I hold dear in my heart and headcanons came to be. Then “Louie’s Eleven” came out and absolutely destroyed a lot of my headcanons (just kidding, just kidding). Since the new canon material didn’t really jive with a lot of the wholesomeness I had built up I was left with a lot of something else: angst. I LOVE angst, but the two’s bitterness and arguing...It was hard to accept at the time. Me and @cartoon-lizard on Tumblr, my IRL best friend, wound up writing a Josépan fic fueled on a bit of that angst and by her grace, a lot of my headcanons. I titled it “My Reverie is Being Haunted by That Ass.” In it Panchito makes an ass (rimshot noises) of himself by running off with a producer he met by chance during a visit in Duckburg to try to become famous. And doing so without so much as a second thought to the person he’s been living with/sort of dating for over a year. It took me a while but eventually I figured it out. These weren’t three separate AUs, these were three separate pieces of the same AU. And so my masterpiece never meant to be made came to be: “The Trilogy: College/Baia/Reverie.”

“The Trilogy” Itself:

The story will never be written for a variety of reasons, personal and practical. But if it ever were to be written it would be three separate fics, aka: College, Baia and Reverie.

College encapsulates their college years (duh).

To set the stage:

Panchito: A friendly, arrogant and easily excitable musician with big dreams, good grades and a whole lot of anxiety and insecurity. He has complicated feelings towards his identity as both trans and pan and how that might affect his dreams of becoming famous, but is overall bright eyed and innocent enough.

José: A lazy (depressed), charming, pessimistic, tbh kind of a douche and deep in the closet gay man. He tends to push forward a very “Manly man” persona to make up for his own deep seated internalized homophobia brought on by a shitty upbringing. He just got away from said shitty upbringing and doesn’t really have any hopes for his future...Maybe to travel a bit?

José and Panchito start as enemies, both fearing losing their one real friend, Donald, to the other. Despite this the three start a band and the two’s rivalry becomes far more friendly. They get particularly close during the trip down to Acapulco for spring break where the general feeling of being disconnected from life and reality leads to several rather romantic moments between the two...They almost become a thing several times but never quite do. However, they are very good friends by the end of college. The three stay in contact for a while after college but eventually lose touch…

Baia timeskips forward 13 years later (I know it's only 10 canonically, I always say 13 for reasons) to a conversation between Panchito and José on the Sunchaser at the end of “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice.”

Panchito: Life hasn’t been kind to Panchito...His need to be famous, to be something in order to be someone has led him to push a lot of people out of his life so he can better focus on “Work.” Or drive them out by constantly asking for their support, financial or otherwise. He has no friends and even his relationships with his loving and supportive family are strained. Currently, he’s working freelance as a performer at childrens’ birthday parties (in his eyes: a clown) and goes home to a sad, empty apartment every night to stare at a notebook full of half written songs and muster enough energy to eat cereal for dinner for the third time in a row. Needless to say, his optimism is wearing thin.

José: A lot of hard work on his part, some good therapy and mmm; drugs have put him in a pretty good place. He’s more or less got his life together now, is way less of a douche and is more of a realist than a pessimist. He’s also pretty much completely comfortable in his identity as a gay man. He’s been trying to explore romantic relationships, but unfortunately (likely due to the loveless marriage between his parents making him strive so hard to believe that love is real that he puts the unrealistic goal of true love above all else) feels incomplete without one and double unfortunately has a tendency to be drawn to toxicity and abusive situations. So other than a string of (short lived) bad relationships, he’s actually doing great!

Panchito has already asked Donald to drop everything and stay with him down in Baia to try to get funding for the band. Donald said no. José has a steady job, a decent apartment and a supportive friend group back home. He's also long since lost interest and hope in their college dreams of being famous...José says yes. The two have a bunch of wild and wacky shenanigans trying to get funding and both dance around their growing feelings for each other until it explodes and overwhelms them. They rush into a romantic relationship head first with no real ground for it to be built on and unrealistic expectations of what the other can give them. Despite all this, things seem quite happy...for a while…

If you've made it this far, <3, CONT. in pt 2.

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 6: Avatar

“How do you stand it?” asked Estinien with a small growl in his voice.

“Stand what?” replied Aymeric curiously, unsure what he could possibly withstand.

“Having Dia in your house. Ever since I joined the Scions, she’s been a nuisance. I’ve not known peace. I’ll be on my own trying to eat, and she’ll appear from nowhere to sit down and interrogate me.”

The two engaged in a long overdue chat, borne from a request made by the Lord Commander to both Estinien (“Please, remember to stop by Ishgard sometime, old friend. I would certainly welcome a bit of catching up” Aymeric asked once upon a time) and Tataru (“I somehow doubt he’ll stop by Ishgard. Could I trouble you for an occassional update as you also provide for Dia?”) As an old friend, and one of the Scion’s most generous financial and supply contributors, she was more than happy to oblige, and even conspire to make him see the good Lord Speaker.

“The man will drown me in questions”, complained Estinien at the time.

“Who wouldn’t?!” Tataru countered, “It’s important to him, and as he’s a backer of the Scions, I would much rather keep him happy! Don’t you want to at least see your oldest friend again?”

And so he did. And so he found himself in the parlor of Borel Manor sipping on tea, sans birch syrup for the dragoon.

“How is she interrogating you?” Aymeric inquired.

“She’ll badger me with questions about the meal I’m eating and how my day is going, and make all sorts of strange quips. I don’t understand why either. She wasn’t like this when the four of us entreated Hraesvelgr, or even recently when we freed Tiamat and fought the lunar primals.”

Aymeric set his tea down on the table. “My friend, having experienced real interrogation, I believe you’re being rather dramatic.”

Estinien brought his gaze to his lap, rather embarrassed at the idea that he managed somehow to forget Aymeric’s ordeal at the Vault. It was never far from his mind, however. The image of his closest friend battered and bruised and the image of the knight who dared to protect Dia impaled by a spear of light haunted him every now and again.

“…perhaps a better choice of words was in order. Forgive me”, said Estinien meekly.

Aymeric released a sigh through his nose. “I can find it in my heart to forgive you…if you give Dia a chance. She’s not herself at work, and she’s trying to be herself with you, and engaging you in the longstanding pasttime of ‘welcoming you to a new place’ is a part of it.”

“How do you mean ‘at work’?”

“The Scions are as much employment as they are her second family. She’s rather singleminded in her focus when it comes to her assignments given by them. When no work is to be found with the Scions, it’s a very different story. ‘Twas much the same with the two of us once, and clearly, you’ve only ever engaged with her when she was working.”

Estinien harumphed and said, “Bollocks. You don’t become a different person just because you have a task at hand.”

“Really? Because I’ve watched you do just that.”

Estinien growled, but accepted defeat. He was right, after all. “Fine. I just don’t understand how she can be that chummy with the lot of us, then.”

“As I understand it, that group went through a rather harrowing experience together, a change from usually sending Dia into the harrowing experience alone.” Estinien couldn’t help but notice a tinge of resentment in his friend’s remark. Regardless, he responded, “From the meetings I’ve been dragged into, ‘harrowing’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. The woman’s inhuman, Aymeric. No one could have survived what she did, yet she’s still here. I simply don’t understand why, and she refuses to explain.”

“Have you asked?”

“Yes, more than once. She simply doesn’t go into detail beyond what I’m sure you already know.”

Dia explained most of what transpired on the First to him after her official return when she managed to awaken the Scions. He was sure there was some sensitive information for Scion ears only that he couldn’t be privy to, but what was it that not even Estinien could know?

“And the other Scions know naught?”

“They mentioned that a wayward soul aligned with hers.” Ardbert, Aymeric thought.

“I’m well aware of Ardbert.”

“Ardbert?” Estinien shot back quizically.

“Aye, the Warrior of Darkness.”

“What in hells is she doing with a Warrior of Darkness in her soul?”

“Did they truly not discuss this in those meetings of yours?”

“Wasn’t exactly a topic of focus.”

“Fair enough”, Aymeric conceded, “At any rate, she’s incredible, is she not?”

“I’m still concerned she’s not saying everything she needs to say.”

“Hm, surviving impossible situations, refusing to discuss certain matters outright and going to great measures to avoid a conversation she does not wish to be a part of? Who could do such things, I wonder?” Aymeric faked consideration, enjoying teasing the dragoon.

“You’ve made your point”, Estinien sternly fired back, “I just wish she’d tell me what that bloody crystal does.”

“Crystal?”

Estinien raised his eyebrows at the question. “Have you not seen it?”

“No, I haven’t. What crystal?”

“There’s this strange yellow crystal that I caught her fiddling with, and when I asked about it, she hastily put it away and ran off.”

That concerned Aymeric, to say the least. What was she doing not telling him something? Not telling the Scions something?

“I’m telling you, something is off with the woman. Clutching crystals, carrying warriors of darkness in her soul- I don’t like it, Aymeric. Something’s wrong.”

Aymeric stayed silent. He was pondering just what she could be hiding. What piece was he missing?

“Speaking of, didn’t you say she’d be joining us?”

“She should have been here by now, yes. Why don’t I try contacting her? I’m sure she just landed herself into becoming a helping hand, as is her wont.”

In fact, Dia was hiding in the hallway near the parlor during that whole conversation. At first, she just wanted to leave the two of them alone for a bit, see how they’d do before she would walk in. Then, they started talking about her. They were going to demand answers, answers she couldn’t bring herself to give.

They were going to leave her once they found out, she just knew it.

She felt exactly one thing, and that was a desperate need to flee, escape from the hall before they could ask anything. She would leave them before they could leave her. Quickly, she teleported from the hall to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona.

“Did you hear that?” Aymeric inquired.

“I did, aye. Did someone teleport in?”

Aymeric stepped towards the hall quickly to investigate the sound of a teleportation spell. No one was in the hall.

“Maybe I misunderstand, but it could be that someone teleported out rather than in.”

“…that wasn’t her, was it?” Estinien hypothesized cautiously.

“I’m…unsure.” Aymeric put a hand on the linkpearl and attempted to contact her.

Nothing.

After another attempt brought no change, he decided to resort to the best person hunter in Eorzea: Tataru Taru. As she wasn’t available on his linkpearl, this required an in-person visit.

“I hate to cut this short, as I was the one who bid you come, but��“

“No need to apologize. I’ll come with you.”

The two teleported to the aetheryte in Mor Dhona and entered the Rising Stones proper.

“Oh, welcome, Lord Commander! And welcome back, Estinien. Did you two enjoy tea?” greeted Tataru cheerfully.

“Aye, for a while,” answered Estinien, “but I’m afraid we have a problem now.”

“Oh?”

Trying to hide his worry, Aymeric asked, “Did Dia come by here, per chance?”

Tataru shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen her since our meeting yesterday. I thought she was with you.”

“She was, but she had left the house earlier before he arrived to handle some leves, and promised to be back in time for tea. She didn’t come. I contacted her only to have my calls ignored.”

Tataru’s eyes widened.

“I’m telling you, it’s that hells-damned crystal and that Ardbert you mentioned” Estinien accused, “What else could make her act like this?”

“Crystal?” Tataru inquired.

“We can worry about the crystal later”, Aymeric responded, “Our first concern should be discerning her location.”

“Maybe you two should return to Ishgard, ask around and see if anyone’s seen her. I can send Hoary to ask around Mor Dhona and make sure she didn’t come by here”, proposed the lalafell.

“Not a bad idea”, replied Estinien. The two elezen teleported back to Ishgard, ready to begin a search. “I’ll take care of the asking, Aymeric. You should be there in case she comes back.”

“Estinien-“

“That wasn’t a request, Aymeric. Go home.”

*********************

They would get nowhere. They would never get to where she went.

Dia found herself in the Crystarium. The people happily greeted her as she walked through the settlement, but she could only return half-hearted sentiments. She was a bit distracted, after all. She settled on the Pendants as it offered peace and quiet while still fully assuring that no one would be able to contact her by linkpearl. The innkeeper led her to her old room, exactly as she had left it, minus the half-eaten food and Ardbert’s wandering spirit interrupting her respite.

She sat down on the bed, unsure what to make of what happened, of what she heard, of what Estinien was truly thinking. It was one thing that he was a bit grouchy about the way she would tease him when she was there. It was another thing to accuse her of becoming something completely different, of being inhuman. She’s not a monster, after all.

…right?

“I’m not a monster”, she said to herself, trying to convince herself that she was, in fact, as human as the rest. But that doubt still lingered. Beq Lugg said her soul was the densest soul she’d ever seen. Why would Emet-Selch have bothered if she were simply another “inferior being” as he put it? Where did Azem end and Dia begin? Was there ever truly a Dia? Was she technically Ardbert as well if that were the case? She flung her head into her hands, unsure what to make of any of it.

“You’re going to have to go back, you know.”

Ardbert’s voice rang through her head.

“Oh, what do you know?” she retorted to her eighth part.

“I was there. Whether you like it or not, I do see some things.”

“Try to see less, will you?”

“Would that I could.”

She sighed. “I’m well aware that I need to go back. I’m sure eventually, Aymeric is going to become concerned about how long I’ve been gone, as will the other Scions.”

“So what are we doing here, then?”

“You know what we’re doing here.”

“Ah yes, a completely rational, logical decision that only came after you gave it complete consideration and immeasurable forethought.”

She scowled at his disembodied voice. “Sarcasm is ill-becoming of dead men.”

“Good thing I live in you now. You have enough sass for two.”

She groaned, “What in hells do I tell them?” She put on a very saccharine, pleasant tone. ‘Hey, by the way, I’m eight parts of an amaurotine that was on the same council as Elidibus, Emet-Selch, Lahabrea, and all those lovely other people we’ve met that hurt all of you one way or another. I might have even been best friends with Emet-Selch, but don’t worry, I’m NOT an Ascian. I was one of good ones!’”

“Perfect, you already know your lines.”

“I’m not telling them that! That’s absurd!”

“What’s absurd is crossing time and space to avoid a conversation.”

She threw herself back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They hurt so many people, Ardbert. What would they think if I told them I was an ally?”

“I think somehow, they’ll figure out that you are two different people.”

“How can they figure that out when I’m not too sure myself?” Dia asked through tears.

“Simple. They wouldn’t give a damn.”

“How do you know?”

“Azem didn’t join them in summoning Zodiark and you didn’t actively try to kill them.”

Dia stayed silent for a moment. “Are we who we say we are, Ardbert?”

“We need to make a distinction here. I see Azem as a person who lived in the time of the ancients and served in their government. I see an ascian as a back-stabbing piece of amaro shite who serves Zodiark. Now other than that big gaping hole you left in Hades, you’ve never been a backstabber, nor are you amaro shite, and unless there’s been a massive change of heart that I’m unaware of, you definitely do not serve Zodiark. Now what do you think?”

She lied still, trying to take in the feeling of the bright linen beneath her fingers, the solidity of the ground beneath her boots, the smell in the air like fresh laundry and cookies. Slowly, she started pointing out the bricks on the ceiling and counting them. She lost her grip on reality, and Ardbert was helping with her return.

“I think I need to tell Aymeric at least.”

“If it gets us back to the Source, I’m all for it.”

She sat up once again, still barely tethered to her reality. This isn’t the first time she’s had an attack like this. Usually, they’re smaller, and happen when she tries to sleep, the result being nothing more than a simple jolt upward in her bed. When that meant her bed in Dawn’s Respite, she would get up and handle other business as she could to tire herself out. In Borel Manor, it was a much quicker process, in which Aymeric would quickly join her and calm her down, holding her until she fell asleep again.

He didn’t mind because she does the same for him.

As she slowly regained her composure, an incredible wash of embarrassment covered her.

“Did you imagine you’d be dating someone when you joined your soul with mine, Ardbert?”

“The thought crossed my mind. You talked about him endlessly. A man that looks like that? I could certainly think of worse prices to pay in exchange for saving my world.”

Dia chuckled.

“You could do far worse, anyways. I’m glad this Aymeric fellow’s pretty decent.”

“Yeah, me too.”

*********************

The hours had passed. The midday that let the two men enjoy their tea earlier gave way to twilight. Aymeric sat at the settee, doing anything to get his mind off of his missing Dia. Today was an off-day, yet there he sat with paperwork at the coffee table, trying to drown himself under amendments and statutes and arguments for the coming days. It did little to assuage worries, and may have even exacerbated them, but it was something to move his mind away from it.

“THE BLEEDING FIRST!”

The roar of the Azure Dragoon shook the foundation. Aymeric shot up and hurried towards the hall.

“My lord, you have a visitor”, announced the steward in a very tired voice.

“Thank you, Angelbert.” Estinien arrived at the doorway of the parlor.

“SHE WENT THROUGH THE BLEEDING RIFT AND NOW SHE’S IN THE GODSDAMNED FIRST!”

“Estinien, calm down! Where did you hear that?!”

“Tataru called me! Apparently, Hoary had a witness tell him she went east of the aetheryte, and the Sons of Saint Coinach confirmed it!”

Aymeric, stunned by the revelation, moved to sit down.

“You all right?” Estinien checked.

“So she just…left Hydaelyn entirely?”

“From the sounds of it.”

“And…no one else can get her?”

“She’s the only bloody person capable of traveling through the rift unscathed.”

He did nothing. He couldn’t do anything. If he looked at his work anymore, his brain would simply shatter. She went back to the First, of all places. Why the First? Why did she leave? What isn’t she telling him?

As if Halone had heard his thoughts, he heard a door close, and muffled behind the walls were the words, “Ah, there you are!” from the mouth of Angelbert. Footsteps drew closer to their location until finally, her appearance graced the doorway and Dia met her gaze with Aymeric’s.

“YOU!” Estinien shouted with the force of the Fury behind his voice. He marched towards the Warrior of Light and stared her down. “Do you know what kind of trouble you caused?! You made Tataru send out a Scion after you! You made me question all of godsdamn Ishgard before we found out you went off to the First! We couldn’t contact you! What in the seven hells were you thinking?!”

“ESTINIEN!”

Aymeric rarely yelled. Yelling was not his personal go-to outside of the battlefield. In his experience, yelling did nothing but fray emotions further. Sometimes, however, it was necessary.

Particularly now, as he didn’t want his friend screaming in his girlfriend’s face anymore.

Estinien turned around, still a little shocked to hear him yell like that.

“Please go. I wish to have a word alone with her.”

“But—“

“I will take care of this! Leave!”

With a blink, and a scowl towards Dia and her behavior, he eventually stomped off to return to the Rising Stones. Dia turned to Aymeric and asked meekly, “Are you going to yell at me too?”

“No. I will not yell at you.” He kept his voice calm despite a sea of anguish that brewed beneath him.

“Are you sure? You deserve it. I hurt you, didn’t I?”

“Even if I wanted to, where would we be if I hurt you back? All I want is an answer.”

Dia reached into her inventory, and pulled out something that glinted from the light of the fireplace. A small yellow crystal revealed itself in the palm of her hand. She stepped towards him and offered it for his inspection. Curiously, he took it and gave it a look.

“There. That’s what I’ve been hiding. Not even the Scions know what it does. I pray they don’t find out either.”

To him, it felt strange holding the chunk of crystal. There was definitely something strange about it, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. He met her gaze, and asked “Why?”

She sighed, and said, “Aymeric, you know me well enough to understand that trust isn’t easily given by me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to stop herself from losing her tether to reality once more. “I trust you. I wholeheartedly, unambiguously trust you. I tell you this for two reasons: one, because I want to tell you something that I need you to swear you’ll never speak a word of to anyone, not even Estinien.”

He nodded. She took a deep breath.

“That crystal holds my memories as an ancient, as well as a power I once held in that life that helped me escape from Elidibus’ clutches when I fought him.” He shot his gaze back at the crystal, as if it could tell him that she was joking, or lying. It said nothing. He returned his wandering eye back to her.

“Much like Lahabrea, Elidibus, and Emet-Selch, I was a member of their Convocation of Fourteen when I was whole, before that world became fourteen shards. I held the title of Azem.”

Before he could say anything, she had moved on. “Azem opposed the summoning of Zodiark and gave up their seat. Or I did. I think of all the things about this, that’s the worst part. I’m not sure where Azem ends and Dia begins, or if I ever truly was Dia for that matter. At any rate, that means that I once filled their ranks, and the ascians, including the one that corrupted the Archbishop, once considered me a…friend.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. He wasn’t sure if he cared. Azem was of a time well before him. Her past life was not what he cared about, but the life that stood before him now. The one to whom he owed so much, to whom everyone in Eorzea owed so much. The one that loved him, the one that he loved.

“That’s…a lot…”

“There’s a second reason I told you that I trust you. And that’s because I just broke your trust, and I’m sorry. I’m very sorry I did. I stupidly thought if you knew, Aymeric, you’d leave, and so would the others. I panicked, and-“

“That’s why.” He interrupted, something rather unlike him, but he felt it was his job to stop spirals before they could begin. “You overheard Estinien, didn’t you? We heard the sound of teleportation in the hall.” She nodded.

“Look, what you once were in millenia past is of no importance to me. You joined ranks with ascians in a time long past, but you are most assuredly not an ascian.” He placed his hands on her shoulders calmly. “You are Dia Sito, no matter what anyone says. You are my partner, you are a scholar, a master culinarian, a weaver with skills second to none, and so much more to so many. You have defined Dia Sito to all of us. None would know of you as Azem, regardless of what you were told on the First. You, Dia Sito, are not an ascian, have not conspired with ascians, and have no plans to serve Zodiark…unless there’s another thing you have refrained from mentioning.”

She let out a laugh through her nose. “No, that’s about it on secrets.”

“Good. Now come, sit down.” He gently kissed her forehead and guided her to the settee with an arm around her shoulder. “I also need you to understand that your past life having engaged with paragons is not sufficient grounds for me to leave. I’m not going anywhere.”

She took a good look at him, and he at her, before the two leaned in for a quick kiss.

“I owe Estinien an apology as well, don’t I?”

“Perhaps, but I believe he owes you one as well. Go at your own pace, Dia.”

“I will. I can’t say I won’t be walking into a death trap the minute I walk into the Rising Stones.”

“You fear Estinien will have a second wind?”

“No, that Tataru will have a first wind.” He chuckled. “Estinien is nothing compared to the wrath of Tataru Taru”, she said, meaning every word behind it.

“I imagine the lot of them might have something to say of this.”

“Yeah, you’re right…” she stood up, “I should probably—“ He grabbed her wrist gently, and told her with a smile, “They can wait.”

“I need to tell at least one of them that I’ve come back.”

“You do have a linkpearl. I would recommend contacting the one least likely to enter into hysterics.”

Alphinaud, she thought.

“Very well.” She sat back down next to him, and placed a hand on her linkpearl.

“This is Alphinaud.”

“Hi, Alphinaud, it’s Dia.”

“Dia! Thank the Twelve! Hoary said you’d run off to the First. What happened? Are you quite all right?”

“Am I alive and kicking? Yes. Am I all right? I’ll need a minute to get back to you on that.”

Alphinaud sighed in relief. That was Dia all right.

“I’m surprised, Alphinaud. Was Estinien not in a tirade upon his return to the Rising Stones?”

“He slammed the door behind him on his way into Dawn’s Respite, but that’s nothing too unusual. We tried to ask him of your return, but he ignored us. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, let’s just say he and I didn’t exactly exchange pleasantries when he saw I came back.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, I’ll return to explain myself tomorrow. I just wanted to let someone over there know I’m in the Source and in Borel Manor.”

“Mm, I understand why you came to me now. Very well, I shall disseminate word of your arrival to our comrades. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course. Thank you for not shouting at me.”

He giggled. “Any time.”

“Good night.”

Little did she know that the minute Alphinaud exclaimed her name, all the Scions except for Estinien gathered to listen to the call.

“I feel better, I think”, Dia told Aymeric.

“Very good”, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Sorry for ruining your tea.”

“Think nothing of it. We’ll have more where that came from.”

She gave a rather sad smile. “Stop being so good about this. I don’t deserve it.”

“You deserve anything I could ever give. I only wish my love were enough.”

“It’s more than enough, it’s more than I’m even worthy of, my dear.”

For a moment, there was a flash. A black robe covering her arm, a black mask in her hand, and a different room appeared before her. As she turned her head, a familiar face that Dia never met before looked back to her with a wry smile on his face. In that same moment, it returned to the soft and gentle smile of Aymeric de Borel, with blue eyes shimmering as he looked into her soul itself, it seemed. She didn’t even realize until that moment that she clutched Azem’s crystal like her life depended on it. She released it quickly, not wanting it’s influence at that moment.

“I’m so tired”, she said, swallowing tears.

“I know.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t.” He reached around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“I’m so lost”, she said, the tears releasing.

“Then I’ll help you find your way.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

She had nothing more to say. Only sobs came from her. Azem weighed too heavy, and she only held eight parts. Dia lost her tether after that flashback. Aymeric had a rope for her to use instead to pull her back. She felt his heartbeat, his breathing, his warmth, the fabric of his shirt, of the settee, then tried to count the symbols that made up his wallpaper through tear-soaked eyes. Slowly, she regained control of her breath, the sobs reigned in, and the tears less poured out and more trickled. It helped that he was there to gently rub her back. It was soothing, to say the least.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, my love.”

She took the crystal and placed it on the coffee table to avoid the risk of clutching it once again. Now that he knew, she had no need to hide it on her person.

“May I ask why you carry it then? If it burdens you so, it seems imprudent to keep it on.”

She shook her head. “For whatever feelings I have about the ascians, about the whole of Amaurot…that is a part of me. It feels wrong to keep it away.”

“Such is the burden of knowledge, is it not?”

“Now that it’s there, I can never truly remove it. I would rather try and learn from it as much as I can. I feel I owe it to them.”

“To the ascians?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, to Amaurot, and to history. I’d be a terrible scholar if I didn’t try.”

He let out a light laugh, and looked to her. “Even the best of scholars need a break from their tomes.”

“I know. So I’ll lay it there for now.” She let out a scoff of her own. “‘Tis strange, I feel as though I might as well have said, ‘I’ll lay my arm here.’”

“It’s that affixed to you?”

“To an extent. That is me after all.”

“In an incredibly detached sense, yes. Mayhap you should leave it alone for a while. Return to it another time.”

She let out a long breath through her nose while she stared at it. Aymeric took the crystal in his hand, feeling the strange sensation once more, and stood up. “If it’s quite all right with you, I’d like to place it in a drawer upstairs. When the time comes that you need it again, you’ll be able to access it with ease.”

As attached to it as she became, he was right. It did no good for her to obsess over it. She nodded, stood up and followed him upstairs.

Everything that made up Azem sat in a drawer in the master bedroom for quite some time. Dia still felt conflict in her soul, but it did much to separate her from further flashbacks and keep her grounded in the world as it is now. Amaurot, the Convocation, the Final Days, they laid idly by as Eorzea, the Scions, the Grand Company of Eorzea, and the looming threat of Fandaniel and his own machinations took priority. Of all times for her to place the crystal aside, it was when the knowledge was needed most. If she didn’t, however, the knowledge threatened to consume her. No, it was for the best. It needed to be away from her ever-growing curiosity.

That is, until the time came that she could no longer sit by in Eorzea. The crystal saw light once more and took it’s place with Dia when the world needed her.

[thespellweavingspirit]

My Elemental System

Today, I’d like to share with you some information about elemental systems. Specifically, I’d like to talk about my own. Many of you who have asked me to perform an Elemental Alignment reading know that I work within a system of 12 total elements. Some of you have asked me to explain my system, or parts of it, further. While I am always happy to discuss it and answer as many questions about it as I can, it has gotten a little repetitive over time. 

Wait, first of all, what even are elemental systems?

Put simply, elemental systems are situated within specific cultures, practices, and religions and organize certain ‘Elements’ that appear throughout that culture, practice, or religion’s beliefs, and may even form the core of their traditions. While some systems may appear similar, others are totally different from each other. There are a few common elements that appear frequently within multiple different systems, as well. You probably know them well: Air, Fire, Earth, and Water (or some version of these). 

Depending on the culture, practice, or religion, the elements are recognized and organized into a system differently. They may be fundamental to the creation/origin story of a religion, or to a practice’s ideologies. For example, the Japanese elemental system (The godai) is based on the Chinese and Indian concepts of elemental systems. The word ‘godai’ is made of the kanji 五 (go, meaning ‘five’) and 大 (dai, meaning ‘great’). As the name suggests, the Japanese elemental system is one of five elements: earth, water, fire, wind, and void. They each represent concepts that are central to Japanese culture and may be applied to many different aspects of the world including personality, spirituality, and even science. Here is some more about the Godai if you’d like to learn more about it!

There are many dozens of elemental systems across many cultures of the world. Though some may retain the same basic elements as others, it is important to note that it is not the elements themselves that make an elemental system, but rather, the way the culture views them and includes them in their daily lives, practices, and/or religions. 

So What About My Elemental System?

My system was foraged based upon my personal spiritual beliefs about the universe, souls, my past lives and experiences, and my practice. Each element has its own, distinct links to various forms of magic, concepts, and my own memories, experiences, and knowledge. There are twelve in total, separated into three groups with four elements in each group. 

The first group I have come to call The Essentials. They are Air, Fire, Water, and Earth. They are called The Essentials because they are the elements most commonly present in many different elemental systems and thus have lots of lore already written about them. They are also called this because these four elements form the base of my entire elemental system. 

The second group I call The Material Elements. They are Wood, Electricity, Metal, and Blood. They are the Material Elements because they are physical elements that represent four materials vital to my craft. 

The third and last group is called The Ethereal Elements. These are the non-physical elements in my craft: Spirit, Light, Dark, and Shadow. Each represents a different aspect of my spiritual path and has ties to the kind of magic most central to my craft. 

Each of these elements has a “domain” that defines how it behaves and what sorts of magic it lends itself towards well or poorly. Its domain can also include correspondences. When I perform an elemental alignment reading, I’m looking to see what kinds of elements your energy system is compatible with in terms of what kinds of magic you’re naturally good at, what kind of a person you are, what you lack, and what your strengths are. I separate a small amount of your energy from your energy body and expose it to the elements I work with, observing its reaction. Based on the reaction I perceive, I’m able to tell what you’re inclined towards magically at the time of the reading. 

The Domains of the Elements

The Essential Elements

Air: Its primary domains are freedom, movement, formlessness, breath, song/music, creativity, voice, communication, movement, academics, friendship, and the past. In magic, air lends itself well to any method of casting involving song, fast-acting short term spells, communication magic, and, to a lesser extent, illusion magic--especially illusionary sounds. 

Fire: Its primary domains are movement, passion, (sexual/romantic) love, physical activity, independence, and willpower. In magic, fire is good to use for fast-acting long term spells, magic that aims to release or destroy, and love and sex magic.

Water: Its primary domains are emotions, deception, time, creativity, balance, healing, growth, perseverance, and life. Used by those with an affinity for healing magic, it is very helpful in that regard. Otherwise, water is good for illusion magic or any kind of magic that aims to bend time/reality, slow-acting short term spells, and destructive magic. It can also be useful alongside empathic abilities. 

 Earth: Its primary domains are strength, family, protection, patience, stability, and reliability. It is best used for household wards, spells aimed to produce physical manifestations, financial magic, and slow-acting long term spells. 

The Material Elements

Wood: Its primary domains are connection and dependence. Bridges are built out of wood, so is paper (writing letters). When trees are alive, they are the pillar of forests. Animals and other plant life depend on them and, in some forests, they depend on each other. In magic, wood helps energies connect. That's partially why I think wooden wands can be so useful for directing energy. 

Electricity: Its primary domains are reaction, change, and destruction. Lightning will strike down forests, starting wildfires that rage out of control. It is sudden and nearly instantaneous. But electricity, in nature something so volatile, can also be condensed and harnessed to fuel societies. Electricity is good for magic that requires a lot of energy, magic that brings about drastic change, or magic that will have chain reactions. 

Metal: Its primary domains are foundation, protection, conduction, and malleability. Metal can be smelted and reshaped into pretty much anything. A sword to cut down your enemies; a tool for building structures; wires to conduct electricity; iron spikes to drive away the spirits that lurk outside homes; boxes that hold secret things inside. Metal is one of the most versatile elements for magical uses.

Blood: Its primary domains are relationships, destiny/fate, life, family, and sacrifice. The element of blood is useful in magic that incorporates the use of actual blood, such as kinship/ancestry work, bloodline curses and blessings, and containment magic/seals. 

The Ethereal Elements

Spirit: Its primary domains are divinity, divination, ethereal beings, psychic senses and abilities, and spiritual ancestry. Any magic that deals with psychic senses/abilities or divination is spirit’s specialty. 

Shadow: Its primary domain is liminality--the spaces and entities that lie Between. The ghostly realm for instance, or graveyards, or crossroads. Crossroads magic, spirit work, and death magic are examples of magic that shadow works well with.

Light: Its primary domains are truth, knowledge, the past, the outer world, and perception. In magic, light works well in glamours and spells that seek knowledge or truth. 

Darkness: Its primary domains are the unknown, exploration, fear, the future, and the inner self. I actually associate the practice of shadow work with Darkness, rather than shadow. Any magic that deals with the self is where darkness can help. It’s also particularly good at aiding in astral projection.

  End Note

This isn’t by any means the full list of the function of each element within my system; there are a lot of nuances and personal uses for the elements that I’m not listing here. I just hope that this answers some questions about how my system works. If anyone would like to discuss this system more please, feel free to dm me about it or just ask right in the notes!

[loquaciousquark]

I hope you're doing well! I know you posted about a stressful situation last month, and I hope it's resolved itself. Sending good wishes you you and Hamlet!

Thank you so very much for checking in on me! I really do appreciate it. An update to that post under the cut.

Carol, who moved in with me on May 28, is still here. Right now, we have set a tentative move-out goal of the first or second week of August, but this is pending an apartment application that she hopes to finalize on Monday and a job situation that is a complete mess.

Basically, according to my limited understanding, Carol is licensed to teach in Florida. Alabama has a reciprocity clause with Florida, but it must be applied for. Carol has recently begun this process, but her teaching license(s?) is (are?) set to expire in December unless she passes certain exams. She’s already passed one for...general middle and high school teaching, I think, but failed a math exam. She has an art history exam Monday afternoon and expects to pass. I hope so, because she’s been doing nothing but watching Netflix and shopping for houses for the last few days in her new 2017 Jeep Cherokee.

I remain unspeakably grateful to my parents for teaching me financial literacy, because until I witnessed Carol’s decision-making, I had no idea how hard it was for some people to not spend money unwisely. 

As a reminder, Carol is dead broke. She has $153,000 in debt across student loans, medical bills, Czech and US taxes, and some personal loans she would like to repay to friends for helping her. She is unemployed and has no support from her family and has relied on couch surfing at friends’ and acquaintances’ homes since last summer for housing. Since moving in with me, she has been trying to find somewhere to live that would accept her with all her debt and her nonexistent US employment history for the last ten years. Based on what she’s said, I think she has about $9k in the bank--or did, until last week.

In short, she needs a car, a job, and a home, and as far as I can tell she doesn’t care which order they come in.

Two weeks ago, she was offered a position in a rural town about 30 minutes from where I live. It’s a small, very country town which desperately needs a special education teacher, something I think Carol really does have a passion for. However, because she hasn’t finished the reciprocity licensure application yet, they’re having a lot of roadblocks with her paperwork, compounded by the fact that when she left Prague last year, she left all her important documentation behind: things like her birth certificate, her social security card, and her letters of recommendation, which for some reason she did not have electronic backups of. The principal has been trying to get what she needs from Carol for two weeks. Carol is constantly saying that things are “in process” but has nothing to show for it.

As far as we can tell, the job is still hers, but the school year starts August 13th and she still hasn’t been approved by the Board of Education because the paperwork is still not finished on her end. She did not attempt to replace her birth certificate or social security card until they needed it for the application. (Her friend in Prague--and I am beginning to realize she uses the word “friend” for anyone she’s met longer than sixty seconds), who frantically packed up all her belongings when she realized she would not be able to go back to the city, cannot ship her belongings or go through them for the important paperwork until next summer, as she and her husband are currently vacationing in Rome for a year.

Carol decided last night she is also going to apply for some online Department of Defense position--I didn’t understand the details and don’t really want to know, except that it’s also teaching and some administration. We’ll see how it works out. She is growing increasingly annoyed at the principal’s requests for paperwork completion, which baffles me.

So, job: shrug? Maybe?

Car next, then, but this whole mess also goes back to the financial literacy thing. My parents have always been extremely frugal (pennywise, as my dad would say), and from childhood they made it very clear to us to not buy things you couldn’t afford. They’ve never had a car payment in my memory, and they paid off their house about ten years ago. This means they drove a lot of junkers for a very long time, and for a very long time we had very few vacations, but now they’re fully financially stable and debt-free and my mom has a car that she drove off the lot brand new that they paid cash in hand for. 

If I had been in Carol’s situation, I would have found a cheap, mostly reliable used car that probably wasn’t going to explode on me and drive that as long as I could while saving up for housing. I did in fact drive her to look at several used cars, most of which would have been even outside my expected budget (hers, as it happens, is larger even than that, because one of her overseas friends was willing to contribute $5000 to the cost of a vehicle). (I paid $6500 for my current car, a 2004, in college in 2012 with 70,000 miles on it at the time, and have driven it ever since.)

She rejected all of them because they did not have good “energy” and “feelings.” One she was willing to buy at $3700, but told the seller to go pay for his own inspection (once I explained to her what mechanical inspections were as a concept), so they ghosted her. She also is extremely afraid of head gasket failure--I don’t know why, since she knows nothing about cars--and has assumed all vehicles she has driven are on the verge of it, so after the first week she refused to even look at a vehicle without a warranty.

This means she exclusively limited herself to used dealership options, which I’m just going to come right out and say was monumentally stupid. I don’t know if any car dealers follow me, so I’m sorry if I am misperceiving this, but in my experience almost every dealer I’ve gone to has been aggressive, manipulative, and extremely predatory in their interest rates. I cannot think of a riskier course of action in abject debt than to try to cut a deal with a car dealer for the sake of a warranty I doubt will cover that much truly expensive failure in the long run anyway.

On Thursday, Carol bought a $20,000 2017 Jeep Cherokee from a dealership down the road. I don’t know what she put down. I do know she did not use her friend’s money (why not??) and I know her interest rate on the car loan is 4%, which she is extremely proud of and which horrifies me. She also “persuaded” them into a limited warranty that will cover the vehicle up to 100,000 miles (currently at 42k, and they ~only offer it for cars under 40,000 miles~). I can’t tell you how bad an idea I think all this is.

Thursday night, as she was regaling me with stories of her negotiating prowess, she also tells me she has decided to buy a house. She’s sick of renting, and somehow, someone somewhere managed to get her approved for up to $120,000 in a home loan. She already has $150k in debt, another $20k from the car, and now wants to buy a house. She was delighted that she could make the minimum 7% down payment, even though it would wipe out every cent she has left and leave her less than $500 to her name for moving expenses, utilities, food, title registration, etc. afterwards.

She doesn’t even have a secure job yet.

However, this plan seems to have fallen through. She went out with a realtor several times this weekend and came home the last time in great, heaving sobs, because she can’t find the 3bed 2bath she wanted in her price range. (For reference, most homes in this area go between 200k - 250k right now for 2-3bed 2ba, and the closer you get to the city--I have about a 20 minute commute--the higher it gets. My next door neighbor sold her 3bed 2.5ba for >300k three months ago, and Carol knew this.) She was absolutely devastated that the only things in her range were “tiny little ugly flipped houses” and “the ghetto.” The realtor basically said she wasn’t going to waste any more of her time. Carol repeatedly told me how grateful I should be that I got in at the price point I did a few years back, because no “normal people” could ever afford to break into the market again.

I tried to tell her that it was because I lived in with a roommate in very cheap housing and then a cell of a 1bed 1ba apartment for eight years while I saved money, but if nothing else, I’ve learned I’m not allowed to compare our situations or histories or offer advice of any kind except “go ahead and buy what you want,” because that only makes her cry harder. In the end, she has decided to give up on the house for now and settle for the absolute last thing in the world she wanted, an apartment with a lease.

To be honest, until she has a signed contract in hand, I half-expect this lease to fall through as well. I have tried to offer what I think is sensible advice and been ignored or rebuffed. I have tried to offer a sympathetic ear and ended up with her sobbing uncontrollably on me--heaving, body-wracking sobs--over and over again with me trapped in my own home, providing endless emotional support for a girl I don’t even like. I have tried to encourage her to do the things she wants to do, since she’s going to do them anyway, and when she gets “negative energy” after the purchases (buyer’s remorse, I think, that one little inkling of sense saying maybe it wasn’t a great idea to buy a $20,000 car or an $1100 brand new iPhone without a job), she blames it on the exact thing I said I thought might be good and makes me feel like I have now directly contributed to a negative outcome after poor decision-making.

For the record, when she says these things to me she is not saying, and has never said, them directly at me. She has never blamed me in any way for a negative outcome. She is not consciously trying to manipulate me or abuse me or take advantage of my help. She has never once asked me for money or job connections or for me to use any of my stability to unfairly or unethically get her something she needs. She is just completely absorbed in her own (rightfully absorbing) mess of a situation, and I think just completely unaware of how much of an emotional black hole she has become. There are no problems except her problems. There are no needs except her needs, and everyone around her has to understand how hard she has it at all times. 

So, we’ll see. I am praying that the apartment works out next week. The owner seems to want to work with her, which is a hopeful sign. Good thoughts would be appreciated.

--

Aside from all of this, work has gotten extremely complicated. I’m not going to go into all of it now, but one of my jobs is to create an extremely detailed schedule for students in clinic. This is used to schedule patients in each service--if we have this many students, we can have this many patient slots per half-day, etc. Last week, two students were out unexpectedly, one who broke her arm the day before she was supposed to begin, and one who had a terrible anxiety attack and thought the symptoms were actually COVID. That student was tested and cleared negative, but Student Health requires a two-week quarantine anyway, so she was not allowed to return.

This meant that we now had multiple patients per day with no one to see them. We tried to reschedule as many as we could, but we still ended up with multiple overbooks. This is extremely stressful for me as both a provider, an instructor, and a human being who hates having other people wait on her in a professional capacity. We got through the week, but not without several painful bumps, and it’s looking like there will be more soon.

I also woke up to an email this morning that one of my favorite students (yes, I have favorites, I’m sorry), had a completely unexpected death in the immediate family and had to rush home. This is a very, very sweet, very smart girl who has worked unbelievably hard over the past year to do well in this program and in my courses, and I am just devastated for her. One of her friends is willing to cover her clinic, so the impact will be minimal on that side, but to have this happen during this country’s hellhole handling of this pandemic...I can’t even imagine it.

All of this isn’t even touching COVID. The President’s side has won in that sense--I don’t even register the numbers anymore--but as of last week our dean sent out messaging that implied that with our state’s failure to contain the spread, new discussions were going to be happening soon regarding our August start. We already had committed to full hybrid scheduling: all lectures online, in-person labs only where absolutely necessary to continue advancement in the program, and those labs limited to two per room with full PPE, but if they decide even that can’t happen, I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do. I cannot make competent doctors over Zoom. I can’t. At some point they have to touch other people and look at other people’s eyes. They have to be able to check real, in-person blood pressure. They have to look at genuine eye movements and ocular surfaces in person and I cannot and will not let them enter clinic until they have the practice and the time and the practicals behind them. I fucking refuse to endanger the public for sixty years because someone in an office somewhere decided a timetable is more important than a patient keeping their ability to see, and I’m ready to fight administration on this if they try to push it.

But if I win the fight, what next? They just...don’t enter clinic next year. They don’t enter my program. I don’t know what they do in the meantime, as this lab meets four mornings a week and the lecture twice. The course is delayed until next year or whenever we have the virus under control again, and suddenly my fall semester sure looks like I’ll be being paid to stay at home and count carpet fibers. I don’t think they’ll fire me--no one else wants to teach my course anyway--but if I win this fight I might put myself right into furlough in the process.

I could be borrowing trouble, I know. They could come back and say that after review, our system and safety protocols (all extremely conservative) are indeed safe enough and we can proceed as we want. They could say that our limited in-person option for lectures (we have several gigantic lecture halls that could easily socially distance) is the only thing that needs to go. They could say that we just need to have smaller lab groups--hellish on me, but doable.

But it’s one more element of stress in my life that I just can’t handle worrying about right now, which is why I’ve been bouncing back and forth between random fics and oneshots (that mermaid one was feverishly written on a single evening Carol spent at her mom’s house) and pouring an ungodly amount of hours into Animal Crossing. At least there I have some control over what happens next.

Sorry, guys. I know this is not the happy update I was hoping for. I’ll try to check in again next month and we’ll see where things end up.

[sambergscott]

i'd wait forever and a day for you

summary: post-trying // jake is on an undercover mission and amy thinks she’s pregnant. 

(you should read this just for the last line tbh)

Her period is late.

At first, she attributes it to stress. Jake is on a major undercover operation and while she is an incredibly proud, supportive wife, she knows how dangerous the situation is. He’s a great cop -- one of New York’s finest, in both senses of the word (...he’s hot) -- and he was so excited about getting this assignment. And she’s excited for him -- really, she is. But with updates filtering through to Captain Holt at a snail’s pace, it’s impossible not to worry about him, where he is, what he’s doing, whether he’s safe. Her cycle was shot to hell when he was in Witness Protection in Florida and it is entirely possible that history is repeating itself. 

Four days pass, Jake is still undercover and her period still has not arrived. She tries to blame Hitchcock’s God-awful Zika cologne disrupting her cycle again until she remembers that both Hitchcock and Scully have been off work all week with food poisoning. She even Googles why is my period late?, quickly closing the tab and deleting her browser history when the first result that pops up is pregnancy. 

There’s no way she’s pregnant. She refuses to even consider it for a second. 

Despite her absolute certainty that her uterus is as empty as it’s always been, when Rosa invites her for drinks with her new boyfriend, Amy opts for a non-alcoholic beer. 

“I’m driving,” she explains at Rosa’s raised eyebrows and swiftly changes the conversation. She finds out that Rosa’s boyfriend is a mechanic and they hit it off when she took her motorbike in for repair. She talks about Jake, about how he’s her favourite person in the entire world and how much she misses him (A Lot). He asks her what it’s like dating a cop and how to deal with the person you love putting themselves in danger every single day, which makes Rosa blush. Amy has never seen her blush before. 

“It’s difficult,” she says truthfully. She hates seeing her husband hurting and being thrown in prison for crimes he didn’t commit and having guns pointed at his head. It’s why she instated the short-lived ‘no dating cops’ rule, before Jake kissed her and she decided screw it. “But it’s worth it. When you really love them, it’s worth the pain. Every second.”

“That’s what I thought,” he responds, looking at Rosa the way Jake looks at Amy. 

She finishes her drink (which is so not as good as its alcoholic counterpart) and gathers her coat and purse. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. See you Monday,” she directs at Rosa and “it was nice to meet you” at her boyfriend, who she has a feeling might be sticking around for a while. 

She opens up her Messages app and types out a full paragraph to Jake about how she met Rosa’s boyfriend before him and how he’s really nice and makes her blush! Rosa Disz!!! Blushing!!! She adds a gif of Jonathan Van Ness saying “can you believe?” and is about to click send when she realises his phone is on his nightstand where he left it before his mission and puts her phone back in her pocket in dismay. 

Once home, she gets changed into one of his NYPD t-shirts and climbs straight into bed, crying herself to sleep. 

She wakes up bright and early the next morning, a feat that is made significantly easier when there is no super cute husband to snuggle with. She showers, pulls on leggings and one of his plaid shirts and gets started on her Sunday Chores. Dancing around the apartment and pretending the mop is a microphone stand is a lot less fun on her own and she overcompensates, making herself dizzy and throwing up in the toilet she just cleaned. 

Without thinking, she finds herself at the bodega on the corner, staring at the selection of pregnancy tests. She grabs three of the safest looking ones and bites her lip when the guy congratulates her as she pays. She’s wasted hundreds of dollars on pregnancy tests thus far and she knows she’s definitely wasting money on these ones too. She doesn’t need congratulating for making poor financial decisions and being bad at making babies, but she thanks him anyway. 

Back at the apartment, she dumps the paper bag on the kitchen counter to deal with later. She makes a cup of tea, calls her mom and fills in The Times crossword. The paper bag screams out to her the entire time. 

Reluctantly, she removes the boxes from the bag, fully intending to put them away in the back of the bathroom cabinet, out of sight. 

A niggling voice tells her to just open one and find out. 

She has the box open and the test in her hand when her phone buzzes with a text from Holt informing her that Jake is safe and the mission is going well. 

She drops the test like it burnt her skin. 

Jake. She can’t do this without him. If she is pregnant, she’d never forgive herself for finding out without him, for stripping him of that moment they’d been dreaming of forever. 

She’s waited this long, she can wait a few more days. And she’s probably not pregnant anyway. 

She ends up waiting two more weeks. 

It’s torture. 

She’s throwing up almost daily, crying in the break room for no apparent reason and her damn period has still not come. All symptoms which could be explained away by a lack of Jake Peralta and stress (due to missing the aforementioned Jake Peralta). 

Rosa corners her in the ladies bathroom and asks if she wants her to run out for more pregnancy tests.

“I already have some at home.”

“And?” She prompts. “Did you take them? Are you pregnant?”

“I don’t know.” She tries to play it off as no big deal, but Rosa knows her pretty well these days. 

“You’ve been trying for nearly a year, there’s a chance you are finally pregnant and you haven’t taken a test?”

“I can’t -- I want to -- Jake --.”

“Oh,” it dawns on her. 

“Yeah,” Amy sighs. “I’ve been staring at the tests every night but I just can’t. Not without him.  He’d be devastated.”

“He would not be devastated if you were pregnant, Amy Santiago.” 

“You know what I mean. He’d want to be have been there. I want him to be there.”

“I guess he needs to hurry the hell up and catch the bad guys then.”

He must have heard her because, hours later, the elevator door opens and there he is, exhausted and still in his weird undercover clothes, with the biggest smile on his face. 

She practically throws herself at him and, yeah, maybe she kisses him in a not-very-work-appropriate way and maybe some of the perps in the holding cell wolf whistle and maybe Charles is crying, but he is home and she can finally take those pregnancy tests. 

Holt allows her to clock out early (she makes a mental note to buy him a glass of Charbonnay the next time they go to Shaw’s) and Jake excitedly tells her all about the case, barely taking a second to breathe.

“Sounds fun, babe,” she says when he gets to the part of the story when he handcuffed the bad guys and then made out with this super hot chick in front of all his co-workers. 

“It was awesome,” he confirms. “What about you? What have you been up to? I missed you so much.”

“Aw,” she smiles, rubbing her hand over his thigh as he drives, “I missed you so much, too. As for what I’ve been up to, I’ve mostly just been kind of sick.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. I... um... actually think I might be pregnant.”

He swerves suddenly, nearly crashing the car. Ignoring the cars around them honking, he focuses on his wife. “Pregnant?”

“My period is nearly three weeks late, I’ve been throwing up and I’ve been extra emotional,” she debriefs him. 

“Right. OK.” He takes a deep breath. “Have you taken a test?”

“I bought three but I couldn’t take them without you. It’s kind of been killing me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he laughs, pulling over in front of their apartment. Neither of them move. “We should probably take them now.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. 

“You nervous?”

“Yeah,” she says again. She’s lost count of how many negative tests they’ve seen, how many times she’s felt that familiar crushing disappointment. The thought of going through it all over again... 

“I understand. We can wait, if you want. Or we could rip the band-aid off, let the scab bleed all over the place. I’ll hold your hand.”

There’s this reassuring look in his eyes that she’s seen a million times over from back when they were newly-assigned partners and he was reassuring her they would solve a tough case to that time on the roof of 397 Barton Street when he said he always knew she was going to be his boss to his speech at Hitchcock’s (second) divorce party when he told her that they are a family and that they can take whatever ‘next step’ she wants because as long as they’re together, he’s happy. 

Because it’s him, she nods. “Let’s do this.” 

The wait for the timer to go off seems longer than ever. She squeezes his hand so tight she thinks she might cut off the circulation, but he doesn’t complain, just keeps talking about how they’ll be fine, no matter what the result. 

The timer eventually goes off and she picks up the test and starts crying immediately. 

Jake hugs her tight and she can feel him crying too and this is so crazy and insane and good. 

“We’re having a baby,” he says in awe and it’s the best thing Amy’s ever heard. 

“We’re having a baby!” She repeats, half-laughing, half-crying. 

She yelps as he lifts her up and spins her around their tiny bathroom before kissing her tenderly. 

“I can’t believe this,” he exclaims when he pulls away, rubbing his hand over his face, “can you?”

“Nope.” She grins, kissing him again.

[kyberled]

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character. || ACCEPTING

Anonymous asked:

Hc + Parents

Braig doesn’t know his biological parents. It’s probably best that he never does. He’s much better off with the Jedi. I’ll talk a bit about his biological father, his biological mother, and then some of his thoughts on the situation.

His biological father, Eadric Alden Claermoore, is a General in the Grand Army of the Republic, a rank he carried over from a lifetime spent in the Republic’s Navy. He made that rank his life after everything else fell away. The Claermoores were a military family. They always were. This goes all the way back to the Ruusan Reformations, but carried on in various ways since then. Government positions, naval positions, and now back in the Grand Army. Yes, it’s the naval branch; no, he’s not Force-sensitive. He is, however, exactly the sort of awful person you’d expect from someone who defines himself by his rank and his wealth and only barely - if ever - acknowledges the nepotism that went into it. 

He never wanted children. He figured he’d have to have one eventually, to carry on the name and all, but he never wanted one. Like most other things, it felt like a duty. An obligation, rather than a privilege. He was that sort of person. He also wasn’t too concerned about it, as his younger sister, Adarine, had children, but first-born this and patriarch-that and blah blah blah. ‘You know how it is’. Most people who know him thinks the war might be the only thing he ever loved, as it reaffirmed his status. That’s not entirely true. He loved his (ex) wife. Shiv brought out the best in him, people would say. Most who knew him had never seen him relax, let alone smile, until she came around. Shiv wanted kids. He agreed on one. He figured that was a good enough compromise. He also figured he wouldn’t necessarily have to be that involved with the more ‘difficult’ parts of parenting. Read: The actual parenting part. He figured he’d pick up extra duties to make up for the ‘loss of income’ (as if he needed it) while Shiv stayed home with their baby. 

It probably could’ve worked out, if their kid wasn't born Force-sensitive. But he was. So, of course, the Jedi took interest. Shiv said no, Eadric said yes. The Jedi figured they’d just keep an eye on them and try to educate the new parents on what the Force meant for their son. Just so they could fully think over their options and decide what was best. Then Shiv went to provide aid to a planet in the Outer Rim. When she didn’t come back, she was declared KIA. Eadric, quite rightly, decided he can’t raise a child by himself. Yes, he could have asked family or friends to help. Yes,he could have left the baby with the nanny droid he owned that was already looking after it. He could have. 

He didn’t. 

In his defense, he was trying to think of the long-term consequences. Nanny droids don’t work forever. And the boy was Force-sensitive; he needed to be trained by people who know what they’re doing. And, logically, he’s right. The Force is too dangerous - and draws too many dangerous people - for a lack of training to be even remotely safe. And - not that Eadric cares anymore - Braig is legitimately happy with the Jedi. So it really is the best choice. Of course, Braig was actually far too young to be given to the Order at the time. From what I can tell, kids are usually passed on to the Jedi at over a year, maybe even three. Braig wasn’t yet a year old. The young knight who’d been sent to do a wellness check/update hadn’t been prepared to take a baby. Eadric, in essence, handed him Braig and then locked the door and went back to work. He considered it like ripping off a bandage. The Jedi saw this as a cause to Not Panic, But Get Very Concerned At A Rather Fast Pace. He eventually just figured he had no choice but to take the baby back to the Temple and ask for advice. 

When Shiv showed up, not dead and very mad about why her baby was gone, things went sour fast. To make a long story short, they’re divorced now, and he hasn’t seen her in over a decade. He tried to explain his thought process to her. Tried to make a case for himself, and why this was best. She didn’t agree. It was a nasty argument. Eadric never really got over it. He never really got over her. Over the years, his understanding of the situation shifted from ‘this never would have happened if I’d kept our child from the Jedi’ to ‘this never would have happened if he hadn’t been born Force sensitive’ to ‘this never would have happened if he hadn’t been born’. Eadric lives alone now in the fancy surface-level Coruscant residence that’s run in the family for generations. The sort of place money can technically buy, but you won’t ever have enough money. He exists as living proof to the old adage, ‘wealth cannot buy happiness’. He’s a bitter, angry old man who’s devoted himself to the militaristic ideals that the Claremoores have lived by - regardless of who calls the shots. When the Republic becomes the Empire, he stays as an Imperial officer. He doesn’t see a problem with it. The strong prevail.

End of discussion. 

Then there’s Braig’s mother. Dr. Shiv Kiera Whelan is not a product of money and breeding, like her ex husband was. She’d come from the mid-levels of Coruscant. Not the glitterati, but high enough in the city to see what she might one day be able to achieve. Her family was loving and close, even if they were stretched thin financially. She was a middle child. She had an older brother named Cor, an adopted sibling the same age as her named Shina (shee-nah), and two younger sisters named Reni and Tel. They lived in a somewhat cramped apartment with their parents (Braig’s grandparents), Olan and Ama Whelan. They worked in factories across the street from each other, and met by chance - their love story bloomed over the course of many shared lunch breaks and continued throughout their marriage. Theirs was a hard life, and they did what they could to give their children better, while still making sure they knew the truths of the world. Shiv was the first of her siblings to attend higher education. She decided on medicine when she was young; you see a lot of need for it in the mid to lower levels. It’s what she felt was her calling. So she studied hard, saved up, worked herself to the bone. Loans and scholarships became her best friend (aside from her siblings). 

On a planet of trillions, medical care is always in high demand. Shiv took to it like a duck to water, finding her place among medical droids and scanners and sutures as if she’d always been there. She expanded her horizons by not only taking what her colleagues often deemed ‘charity cases’, but also offering medical aid off-world to military operations. That’s how she met her future (ex) husband, actually. A naval scrape that went badly but could have gone worse. His family opposed the marriage, hers didn’t care as long as they were happy. And, for a while, they were happy. It could have worked out great. They’d discussed kids, come to their agreement, and Shiv was excited to be a mother. She’d always liked kids, and they were well off enough that she could take some time off to be at home with the baby, and have nurse droids to help. It would be simple. 

It should have been simple. 

If it was, we wouldn’t be here. Shiv is like her son in more than looks; his self-sacrificing tendencies are both nature and nurture. People needed help. A skirmish between warring factions in the Outer Rim, it happened all the time. Shiv had plenty of experience doing field work on planets where that was often the best they got, and, much as she loved her baby, she’d gotten a bit stir crazy. It’d be fine, she’d go out for a week or two, give people some help, stretch her legs, and come back before the nurse droids even needed to be recharged. Unfortunately, bad intel comes for us all, eventually. It wasn’t just a skirmish between local factions. It was a fight between spice cartels. Nobody was entirely sure which cartels, once the dust settled. Some said the Black Sun, some said the Pikes. All reports said the medic camp was wiped out. Shiv along with it. 

Now, of course, Shiv wasn’t dead. She was in very bad shape, yes, but not dead. She got lucky. See, when you get a reputation for giving help to those who can’t afford it, they remember. A lot of those people gather at the Outer Rim, and a lot of people talk. A doctor that helps anyone, regardless of credits, is a good thing to have around, so Shiv got rescued by some of the ‘charity cases’ she’d taken over her life. It was a while before she was fully lucid, a while later that she was able to make contact and get back to Coruscant. By the time she got there, her son was gone. 

The real tragedy is that, if given enough time, she probably would have agreed to it, herself. Given time to think it over, given more conversations with the Jedi to learn more about them, about what the Force meant for her son, given the extra years she was supposed to have to come to terms, she probably would’ve agreed that the proper training was necessary for him. She didn’t get any of that. 

She just came home and he was gone. 

As you can imagine, this led to a terrible argument between herself and her husband. Eadric tried to justify his decision by saying he thought she was dead, and, either way, he’d been looking out for their son’s best interest. He was where he should be. Shiv, who was already dealing with one major trauma and frankly didn’t have time for another, was furious that he’d given her baby to ‘a cult’ (despite the Jedi not being anything of the sort). 

If you were to talk to Shiv now, she’d tell you she was divorced, though there was never any formal proceedings; Eadric just doesn’t talk about his personal life. Whereas Eadric will tell you he never had any children if you ask, Shiv will talk about who she hoped her son would be, and the injustices that face him now in the life he must live. Their opinions have grown to differ so much that they’re on different sides of the war, as well. Eadric stayed loyal to the Republic, and continues to serve the Grand Army. Shiv felt as though the loss of her son opened her eyes to the Republic’s corruption, and as such, she’s since offered her allegiance and her medical prowess to the Separatists. She hasn’t been to Coruscant in years, and the two of them - Eadric and Shiv - haven’t had any contact with each other in even longer. 

It should go without saying that Braig doesn’t know his biological parents. He doesn’t particularly want to, either. He knows, from records, where he’s from, and he also knows he came to the Temple far younger than he should have. As far as he’s concerned, there are a few potential reasons for this:

The first is that his parents were unable to care for a child. Given that he knows they were from the upper levels, and ergo well-off, he finds this unlikely. The second is that something happened to them, they had no relatives able to seize custody, and the Jedi took him in rather than having him float around the system for a few years. This is unlikely, as the Jedi keep tabs on prospective families, but it’s possible, and, if it is the case, it’s not worth looking into. And the last option he could think of is that they just didn’t want a kid, and again, that doesn’t merit looking into. He knows who his family is - who raised him, who cared for him, who taught him, who stood by and continues to stand by him every day of his life. That matters much more to him than blood.

[thatordinaryoddity]

UPDATE: Once In A Blue Goddamn Moon

a 💗 Jamie & Dani Fanfiction 💗 [The Haunting Of Bly Manor, Netflix 2020]

written by thatordinaryoddity

Rating: K+

Words: ~9,5k

Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Status: Complete (will be uploaded in three chapters + Prologue)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27475423/chapters/67177879

FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13742358/2/Once-In-A-Blue-Goddamn-Moon

Summary: Jamie leaves Flora’s weeding more wrapped up in her thoughts than usual. In all those years, there hadn’t been a day without thinking of her deceased lover Dani. But sometimes, once in a blue goddamn moon, events coincide in an exceptional, odd way.

A/N: Hey there darlings! I hope you’re all doing well!

I’ve just managed to upload my fanfiction on AO3 and FF.net *yay*. In short, here’s the new update, have fun! Next chapter will be out tomorrow, same time, same place(s) - until then, stay awesome!

The Garden Above the City

____________________

 Jamie dropped off her luggage and went straight to the kitchen to get herself a cold, clear glass of water. Finally, after what felt like way more than an almost seven hour flight, she was in her usual environment again. To tell from the dawn outside the window, the day had just begun here in England since they had been on a nightplane. A little bit jetlagged, she pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she seated herself in the dark-green, cosy vintage loveseat. Like some sort of weird compulsion, she checked the water surface with every sip she took from her glass, hoping to see her reflection – as always, even after all this time, even after all this disappointing time.

In hope of getting some distraction from her train of thoughts, she grabbed the remote control for her radio and switched it on. Restless as the past few days had left her, she shifted around nervously on the seat, unable to find a comfortable way to sit. After a few fidgety minutes, the grey-haired woman gave up on finding any rest and decided to make herself a little something to eat instead. In the background, the music from the radio silenced to make room for the daily news. A female voice started talking:

And now to the weather forecast. This Friday autumn morning will be sunny in all parts of South England. It’s supposed to get cloudy with thunderstorms in the evening. Over the weekend, we expect rain in the greatest parts of Britain. Also, a rare Blue Moon will appear this weekend, coinciding with Halloween for the first time in more than 70 years. The full moon will rise in the east at 4.53 pm in the UK on Saturday, less than 20 minutes after the sun sets.

Jamie wasn’t even really listening. It was more like she heard the voice of the radio lady but couldn’t catch what she was saying. She was just tucked so far away in her own thoughts.

After she had eaten her breakfast and unpacked her suitcase, she decided to visit her favourite place in the world – Teddy’s little rooftop garden – one of the few things left to give her soul some comfort.

~

When Dani left all those years ago, Jamie had been unable to set another foot inside their florist’s shop back in America. Everything was connected to too many memories. There wasn’t a single spot where they hadn’t kissed. Sometimes, Jamie even came across a blonde hair here and there which would leave her as a sobbing wreck for the rest of the day.

She couldn’t even remember what she had been doing all day long during the first few weeks, if she had eaten or not, but she knew she hadn’t been sleeping for more than an hour at a time. She hadn’t even been able to bear collapsing into unconsciousness, because waking up from it to once again face her loss had been torture. She had begun to feel even worse since that one time she had gone to the shop, only to find all their plants dead due to the weeks of unintentional neglect. It hurt so much. All of it felt miserable.

After what had seemed like an eternity, some kind of inner healing had set in. Something inside her had told her she needed to move on. And although no hour had passed without her being reminded of that awful grief, Jamie had managed to move on one day. She had sold the flower shop and also her – their – flat, packed only the indispensables and booked a one way flight back to England. The woman had been aware that she couldn’t stay in America, in that cosy apartment, near the charming florist’s. It had been their dream, their life – and she would have perished had she stayed there.

Fortunately, she’d had some money left over from selling the flower shop and Henry Wingrave’s noble inheritance – he had sold all the antiquities and expensive, century-old furniture in Bly Manor to get rid of “all the old dust”. And since he was one of the only four people to remember what exactly had occurred at Bly Manor, he had decided to split the money between them as some sort of indemnity.

Back in Britain, Jamie had moved into a charming, suburban brick row house on the outskirts of a larger city. She’d been unable to bear living on the landside all alone because her own thoughts seemed too loud in all that silence. Likewise, living in the city centre had not been an option because the rush always unsettled her. Therefore, her current, modest accommodation had been just the right choice in her situation. Yet as the seasons had changed and one year had turned into two, the green-eyed woman had felt that something was missing inside her heart – the presence of a garden, of real flowers and plants. Since her row house didn’t have much more to offer than a few tiny window cills which were far too small to make a suitable home for all of her pot plants, Jamie had decided to search for something else. As luck would have it, she had found just what she had been looking for one day on the empty bus seat next to her while on her way home from grocery shopping. The forgotten newspaper on the seat right next to her had revealed just the right page of small ads:

Retired Gardener needs helping hand with his 40 sqm rooftop garden including a conservatory. All those interested please contact Theodore Campbell under ….

This ad had been more than just written words on the newspaper, it had been the beginning of something great, of something essential for the woman’s soul to find a little comfort and silence after all this time.

The years had gone by and turned her hair a steely gray, and she had gotten used to this new reality. Dani was never gone from her mind, not a single second, but it had become easier to live with all that screaming numbness inside her.

Theodore Campbell – Teddy – who suffered from multiple sclerosis and was confined to his wheelchair, had provided Jamie with so much love and understanding that he had become family to her. Truthful family, unlike those people who were related to her by blood. The elderly woman had shared her story with the old man and he had listened, understood, and remained silent when she had just needed to cry. Thus the little garden above the city had become not only a diversion, a pastime – but instead it had become home to her.

Teddy was 85 years old by now and Jamie visited him at least five days a week. Just as much as she saw him as a father, the old man loved Jamie like his own daughter. His wife had also passed away many, many years ago and the couple never had any children. Somehow, Teddy was a kind of role model for the green-eyed woman, because he himself had been through really hard times and yet, he always had a smile on his lips and another joke to tell every day. When his health began to deteriorate, he became reliant on his wheelchair, unable to attend to his gardening duties all by himself. Unwilling to give up the rooftop garden and sell it to someone who might just turn it into a rooftop terrace, he had place the ad in the newspaper.

Luckily, the pensioner was able to draw from his savings to pay for his treatments and special care, but with that burden and the rather lousy annuity a gardener gets, money was short nonetheless. Despite his financial status, he insisted to pay Jamie for her help, but she had always declined. His company and the garden had always been more than enough compensation for her. That, and the afternoon tea with shortbread biscuits, of course.

~

“It’s fine Teddy, I’ll get it,” the elderly woman put away her gardening gloves as the doorbell rang. The passionate gardener had spent almost the whole day on the rooftop, nurturing the plants and flowers with care and dedication, as she had been away for almost one week. Utterly absorbed in her work, she hadn’t even noticed that the sun was setting.

“Good evening Madam, trick or treat,” three colourfully dressed up children stood outside the door, gleefully grinning and bursting with excitement.

“Oh hi there, I love your costumes, you’re all exceedingly spooky! Let me see what the secret sweets stash has to offer!” Jamie smiled back at them, rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of chocolate bars and handed each kid a few of them.

At the back of her head, she remembered the radio announcement about Halloween and the occurrence of the rare blue moon this night. If the kids hadn’t turned up in their costumes, she wouldn’t even have recalled that tonight was Halloween. She hardly attributed any importance to holidays like this, always assuming them to be a day like any other, but unbeknownst to her, this Halloween would turn out to be a very special one.

Without the sunlight warming her in the chilly autumn breeze, Jamie decided to lay her work on the rooftop garden down for the day and put on some good night tea for Teddy and herself.

“Ah thank you my dear, you are truly an angel!” Teddy said gratefully, as he took the hot tea mug from her. “You care to join me for a while?” The old man had hoped to be able to spend some time with her because he had noticed that something was especially strange since the moment she entered his apartment this day. Since she had returned from her trip to America for the wedding ceremony, Jamie seemed to be more absent-minded than usual.

“Would you mind if I go outside to the garden? The moon is so pretty tonight and I just want to admire it for a little bit on my own.” With a faint smile she placed her hand on the old man’s shoulder, trying to let him know that he needn’t worry. With a soft nod, he accepted her wish.

The sun had set entirely by now and the clear sky was embellished with its shiny stars already. The full moon tinted the rooftop with all the plants in a pale, silvery light. Despite her brown turtleneck pullover, made from very warm and soft linen, the elderly woman slightly shivered in the cold night air. Nevertheless, she sat down on the iron garden bench, wrapping her elegant, slender fingers tighter around the warm mug. With every sip, the warmth of the tea seemed to spread inside her body, stopping her from freezing any longer. The night was so very calm, and soon, her heavy thoughts, too, appeared to fall silent. Before she knew it, sleep somehow overcame her after a day of hard work and all the mental tension over the past week.

Jamie woke up, trying to figure out where she was for a moment. She didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping there, outside, on the cold iron stand of the garden bench. But somehow, her surroundings appeared to be ghostly silent and the cold night suddenly seemed very mild, more like a summer night really. There wasn’t a noise to hear, not even some distant hustle of traffic, not even the wind playing with the leaves of the plants. The green-eyed woman felt uneasy, odd, somehow dizzy. With one last glance upon the sky to the gorgeous moon in all its glory, she went towards the door leading inside. Suddenly, she was interrupted by a voice. A voice, so obviously real and present, that denying it or blaming it on the wind would have been utterly pointless:

“Jamie...”

She was thunderstruck. It was as if all her body cells, every membrane and every fiber froze to ice. A cold sensation rushed through her body from head to toe, leaving every inch of her electrified. This voice – could it be real? Was it another dream? Suddenly, she heard it again, louder this time, but with the same fragile gentleness.

“Jamie...”

The elderly woman didn’t even dare to turn around, she was literally frozen. A sudden gasp escaped her lungs, when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She squinted her eyes, trying to wake up from what she believed to be a dream, but the touch tightened.

[crimeronan]

ik youre not a therapist and i dont want like therapy or anything but im 17 and ive known i was bipolar for 3 years now and i dont know how im supposed to live the rest of my life like this. im so fucking tired. how do you stay alive

you sent this a couple days ago & i’m posting at a weird time so i’m not sure if you’ll see it but.  

i’ve been looking at this message trying to decide how to respond

because i don’t know your situation, your symptoms, how you’re feeling, whether you’ve had positive or negative experiences with medication, psychiatrists, therapists, hospitals, all that related shit

the bipolar life advice i give to people is vastly different depending on the individual. it’s not a one size fits all thing.  and there’s never even a guarantee that my advice will be the right choice

so since i don’t know about your situation or experiences or what you want, i’m not gonna tell you what to do.  i’m gonna focus on the “how do you stay alive” question and try to pen down some personal feelings. and if they help then great, and if they don’t then... this is the most honest i can be

(you can always ask another question to get a better answer. my inbox is a coin slot and i am a vending machine of varied-degrees-of-helpfulness replies offered at varied-inconvenient-too-long-intervals)

-

how do i stay alive

it’s a 2-parter, actually.  i pondered how to condense my thoughts/feelings, and it came down to these two things

1. love 2. spite

-

1. love

the spite is easier to write about than the love.  love is hard to reach when i feel like shit.

spite is where i go when i want to die.  love is where i go when i want to want to live.

maybe i don’t want to be alive.  but maybe i wish i did.  spite doesn’t help me much there.  spite keeps me afloat, but it doesn’t make the floating pleasurable.  there’s more to life than outlasting everything that ever hurt me.  i need a reason to continue when there’s no enemy to fight

so. love

i almost wrote about the spite alone because that’s rawer, realer, more visceral.  that’s the shit that CONNECTS when everything feels hopeless.  but it would be a lie of omission.  spite is only one of the major food groups, you’ll waste away from malnutrition if you eat it for every meal. or at least, i will.

“so you’ve got a bunch of people you love,” you say, “and you stick around for them.  cry on them.  support each other.  like each other.  fine.”  you’ve heard this story before

nah.

i mean - yes.  i have people i love.  i live with two partners, i’ve got a third girlfriend, i’ve got a long-distance platonic life partner.  i have a support net, i have a family i’ve forged, i have confidence that i’m not alone.  i have, in a bare-bones checklist sort of way, fulfilled my physiological human need for connection

but i could live without every single one of them.  i’m not dependent upon any of them for my survival.  i’m not dependent upon them for love, given or received.  (this isn’t a callous cruelty, it won’t hurt them if/when they read this.  i’ve told them all this, they know.  they’re glad of it.)

so.  what the fuck does “love” mean, then?

the short explanation is that it’s my love of life, of things in the world.  it’s all the little connections i’ve made.  every time i love something, a hook tethers to the universe.  hook enough tethers, and i no longer feel the need to float away.  no dissolution of self today, sir

the rest of this section is some of the things i love. partially it’s to show how i connect to little things and ascribe magic to the mundane.  partially it’s because i like thinking about things i love, i like typing them out, and i like that i could keep going for thousands and thousands of words.

i am laying in bed at 7:30 AM with the lights off and the shades drawn.  blue  light comes through the slats because it’s the better time of year, the one where i finally get vitamin D, the one where the birds chirp at 4AM, the one where the sky isn’t impenetrably black til 10PM.

there’s a weighted blanket tucked around my legs.  my partner rafi bought it for us to share because it’s soothing and heavy and comforting and helps with my physical pain.  right now it’s soft on my skin and if i get too emotional as i write, i can pull it over me like a cloak until i’m settled.

the apartment’s walls are blank because we’ve spent eight months intending to put art up and keep forgetting.  but there’s a newly-unearthed dining area in the kitchen because i finally shifted around the unpacked boxes that were dominating the space.  it’s new and it surprises me every time i walk out there.  it’s open and inviting and bright and it’s a sign that we’re making this place home.

we’ll put a cheap IKEA table by the window and we’ll probably never eat family dinners there - why would we sit in hard chairs and make stiff conversation when we could all cuddle on the couch - but my partner dev will create a place to do their art and the surface will be constantly littered with drying watercolor experiments.

we’ll hang our art one of these days, too, when our collective adhd offers a miraculous combo of remembering + having time + having motivation + having inspiration.  rafi has the most art because they’ve been collecting it for years.  i have to start smaller.  i’m not used to keeping physical objects.  dev has a few pieces thrifted or bought at local artist events or painted themselves

so we’ll put art up in the living room, my single “you are magic” flower print alongside a naked monster lady that dev fell in love with when we browsed art at a yuletide event months ago, alongside rafi’s monster girls and comic characters and book characters and literature art and quotes and abstract pieces and whatever else they have hiding in boxes.

my head protests that naked monster ladies do not belong in the living room, although the picture isn’t overtly sexual.  but then i remember that they do, actually, because it’s our space and we can do whatever we want with it as long as the lease isn’t broken.  there isn’t anyone in the local social circles who’d be perturbed by the decor, as far as i know.  i don’t have to hide anything from my parents because i live 3600 miles from them, and even though i miss my mom, the distance is good for me

there are two exquisite chairs on the porch.  they fold and recline from thrones to nearly-horizontal beds.  there are pillows and cupholders and trays and specific spaces for both a book and a phone.  i can sit there while the morning sun rises and read or play word games or browse tumblr, cup of coffee beside me, trees shielding my eyes from stabby sunbeams

there are remnants of the last tenant’s garden in one corner of the yard.  we’ve done fuckall for yardwork but plants struggle through anyway.  some seem to have sprouted by accident.  mushroom clusters populate the edges of the fence.  the apartment squirrel (there are probably several, but i like to think it’s a single energetic creature) runs back and forth along the fence & i always lose my train of thought & then laugh my ASS off at the “SQUIRREL! XD” adhd moment.  birds kick up leaf litter and play on the ground looking for insects to eat, they wiggle their tail feathers and flap their wings and sometimes they disappear and then return with friends

a little more than eleven months ago, i packed all of dev’s and my shit into a uhaul and drove and drove and drove to get to this city i’d never been in before to live with a partner i’d never cohabitated with.  we were homeless for more than a month, we weathered some financial disasters, we met some great people and some shitty ones

on the drive i fell in love with the sky.  i didn’t know how big it can get - actually, that’s a lie.  i’d FORGOTTEN how big it can get.  i’ve loved the sky thirty miles out to sea, no land in sight in any direction, just blue water and blue space above.  i’ve loved the vastness and the yawning beneath me and the knowledge that everything is BIGGER than i can fathom.  the depth of the sea doesn’t frighten me, it’s home. i don’t want to die, but if i had to, the ocean makes a soothing grave

in north dakota i discovered that i’ve been partially blind my whole life, which is a different tale that showed me i’ll never stop learning myself.  in montana we struggled up thousands of feet of mountains with the car huffing and puffing at the trailer’s weight, and when we finally coasted downward, it felt like sudden freefall.  we ended up in the pitch darkness of night on sheer winding interstates with midnight construction projects forcing detours.  the mountains felt hungry, they had teeth.  mountain cliffs are much scarier to me than the ocean depths

i bought a red bull and poured a little out the driver’s side door as an offering to hermes, because i’m not particularly religious but i’ll take help where i can get it.  slammed that back in a few gulps and shook to bright-eyed alertness and ended up behind a slow-driving red pickup truck that guided us over about a hundred miles of mountain terrain

i thought, that’s just some construction worker driving between sites.  the roads are empty at this time of night, but it’s an interstate.  of course we’d end up behind someone.  this isn’t divine intervention.  this isn’t the benevolence of a god

i thought, but it can be a little magic.  if i want it to be.  

and it was.  it stays with me.

god help me but i’ve been writing this stream of consciousness for more than 30 minutes and i’ve said nothing.  i haven’t talked about the city, the parks, the people, the conversations, the books, the tv shows, the movies, the communities, the library, the animals, writing, reading, singing, acting, swimming, analyzing, creating, supporting, building.  and i can keep going.  i can come up with hundreds and hundreds of things i love and i can write paragraphs about all of them

so i’ll stop here.  you get the picture.  love is the life i’ve made for myself, the surroundings i’ve built, the quiet moments i can capture, the inspiration i pin, the magic i commit to memory.

i had to work so damn hard for every single bit of this.

i’ll be fucking damned if i let it go because my brain tried to trick me into thinking death is better.

-

2. spite

there are people who want me to die.

i don’t mean that i have a giant entourage of personalized enemies who curse my name and plan my individual demise.  although there have been plenty of people who have not liked me much.  probably some of them would enjoy my death.  i don’t give a shit about that

there are people who want me dead because i am a dot on a grid they dislike.  a faceless anonymous enemy who meets too many bad criteria with numbers and percentages and shrinking majorities and shifting public opinion

because i’m gay.  because i’m bipolar.  because i’m autistic.  because i’m a dropout.  because i grew up poor.  because my spine curves and my shoulders ache.  because i squandered my potential, because i didn’t have enough potential, because i didn’t love god enough, because i love the wrong gods, because i don’t worship, because i worship wrong, because i didn’t seek a husband, because i never wanted one, because i talk too much, because i can’t be controlled, because i chose to leave the fold when i realized it was suffocating me, because i’m ugly, because i’m gorgeous, because my body belongs to me

pick your poison.

this bothered me growing up, a lot. i knew i did not deserve to die. but if enough people tell you that you should, a little part of you will wonder if they’re right.  that little part might become bigger the closer they get and the louder they shout and the longer they wear you down

we know the rough shape of this story, i don’t need to tell it.  mine was messy and not triumphant and i survived more by chance than premeditation.

i’m older now.  by and large i’m still young as shit - i’m 24 - but GOD i am LEAGUES away from 15, 16, 17. i know who i am. i know what i want. i know how to get it. and when i don’t know that, i find out. i tell the truth.  i ask for what i want.  i use my time how i want.  i do what i want.

there are days that i can’t access the “love” side of the equation.  no finding poetry in birdsong or sugared coffee for me, thank you, i feel like shit and the world is awful and everything is too big and fast and cruel and everything wants me to die and it wants everything i love to die, too.  everyone i love.  it’s all garbage. the good doesn’t touch me

trauma is difficult to describe.  the difficulty is compounded by the fact that my trauma is influenced by my various neurodivergences, bipolar included.  i never know if i’m feeling what other people do.  i don’t know if i’m voicing unpalatable feelings others are afraid to express - or if i’m just othering myself, admitting i’m not as human as everyone else.

there is something malevolent and monstrous inside me.  i don’t touch it all the time.  but i don’t pretend it isn’t there.  it sits in my chest and molders or radiates or oozes.  it presses at my throat.  it curdles in my stomach.  it hurts what it touches, whether that’s me or someone i love or someone i hate.  it sets things aflame with no regard for the precious or the fragile.  it tears down walls and razes shelters and begs for apocalyptic rain.

i can give this thing names, clinical descriptors.  i know what it is on a diagnostic chart, in a ponderous article, in an academic debate, in a fiction novel, in a war movie, in a memoir.  there are a thousand ways to describe this thing.  the descriptors aren’t important.  what is important is this - i have learned that most people do not walk side-by-side with a tornado-hurricane-hellfire-weaponized-open-nuclear-reactor.  this is not a “normal” expression of human emotion, this is not me trying to ascribe power to “bad bipolar feelings.”  this thing lives in me and i know why it’s there and it is not designed to be held/silenced/muzzled/controlled by my body.

it does not help to pretend this thing does not exist.  it does not help to try to reason it away or ignore it or tell it to stop.  it wants what it wants, it does what it does.  possibly if i was better at therapy or stubbornness then i wouldn’t resign myself to that

but it is fucking EXHAUSTING to try to fight something that’s part of me.  to try to reshape it, rename it, pare it down, make it consumable for the masses.  it’s a war i have never won and it’s a war that i will lose if i keep fighting it.  i cannot fight with myself.  i cannot beat my monster into submission.  if we’re gonna battle like that, head to head, me trying to cut it down, me trying to be the hero, it rearing back like a fire-breathing dragon,

then it’s stronger.  it’s always stronger.

so i surrender.

but that’s not where i stop.

can’t fight it.  can’t kill it.  can’t muzzle it.  can’t reshape it, can’t disarm it, can’t contain it.  

alright.  

so what now.

if the surrender was a full giving-up, this is where i’d passively accept that i’m doomed to hurt and destroy everything precious to me.  can’t fix it.  will lose everything, will never experience or deserve happiness, will make the world worse simply by existing.

that sure does sound like impending-doom rhetoric.  hop skip and a jump from some dire-ass conclusions.  

so fuck that, i say. 

here’s a better question.

if it has to get out, then what happens if i control where it goes?

here’s the thing.

the monster doesn’t care what it kills or destroys or hurts.  

“have a conscience, care about things, remember love, stop yourself, don’t do this don’t do this don’t do this.” 

 losing battle.  lost war.

 it’s not the monster’s fault.  the monster doesn’t have complex motivations or hates or fears.  it exists to protect me through scorched earth.  a remnant of a chemical imbalance, maladaptive coping mechanism, bipolar crazy, traumatized injury.  it doesn’t know that its job is obsolete.

i can’t change the monster.

but my mind is a separate thing.  my mind knows what matters, what my priorities are, what i find precious, what i want to protect.  my mind remembers all the things the monster doesn’t.  

my mind has learned things the monster can’t.

when i fight it head-on, the malevolence is stronger than me.  but as i am, walking with it, sitting in my bed writing this while examining the void and the consciousness, describing it, quantifying it,

that’s when i’m stronger.

and with my mind as the stronger force, i can decide where the monster goes.  what it touches.  what it destroys.  what it burns.  where the ashes land.

i do not want to be a destructive person.  i want to be someone who builds, repairs, changes.  i want to make the world better for kids like me.  i want to stop pouring more gasoline onto a fire that’s been burning since long before i was born.  i want to believe - i do believe - that positive change is better than negative.  i do my best to plant good things and enact that positive change instead of becoming a beacon of wrath.

but there are a lot of kids surrounded by people who want them to die, and not all of them have a protective monster.

so it’s good.

when i’m depressed, my mind loses its battles.  my cognizance slips.  i forget why i care.  i forget what i want.  i forget how happiness feels, how to find pleasure in quiet moments.  

i don’t get depressed as often as i used to since my meds are adjusted correctly now.  but it still happens.  it will keep happening for the rest of my life.

my mind weakens and curls up and stops fighting, and the monster is always there.

it’s a very powerful thing when it wants to be.

it wants to survive.

the thing is, it knows there are people that want me/us/whatever dead.  it’s been fighting them forever.  die like they want?  my mind says, sure, what does it matter.

the monster says, nah.  our work isn’t done.  and fuck them, anyway.

so we get up.

-

so that’s how i stay alive.

i typed this for 90 minutes and after editing i’d spent two hours on this post.  i don’t know if anyone will read it all.  i don’t know if it’ll mean anything.  i don’t know if these thoughts even make sense, much less if i’ve conveyed the feelings i have.

i love being alive.  and when i don’t, i love being a monster.  it’s good.  all of it is good.  i’ve reconciled my uglier pieces.  it’s not one or the other, love or spite.  it’s symbiosis.  i need both, i love both.

no guarantees that this is helpful, but based purely on my own life experience, these are my tips for survival:

you’ll have to find your own roots.  i can’t give them to you.  

but it’s possible to dig them in and spread them far enough that one uprooted peg doesn’t shift your whole equilibrium.  

and when you’re tired, rest, and let yourself be tired, and find the reason why you’re staying in the world. 

 i’m positive there’s at least one.

figure out why you’re losing your battles and then change the game.

if you can’t win one setup, don’t try to beat the system.  adjust your strategy.

you’ll be surprised by what you can love when you stop fighting the disparate pieces of you, and instead figure out how to use them.

[jasonrae117]

Bad Idea, Good Intentions

Hello, Thank you everyone for reading! I'm currently working from my phone and can't put the whole story under a cut, but I'm working on it! I'll definitely get one there before the next part because it may or may not (definitely will) contain potential nsfw shenanigans. Enjoy!

Part 3

"Nice to meet you Rachel Roth. Tell me something interesting about yourself." Tim leanes in just a bit closer.

"I work with music for a living." She smirked at him, moving so her knee brushed against his.

Tim looked into her eyes, there was something familiar there. This whole time he felt like he knew her or recognized her from somewhere but he couldn't place it. He graduated with a degree in criminal law and took classes in profiling and here he was not making any connection as to why he would know her. He blamed the alcohol and he was frustrated with himself. Career in music, was that a hint? She obviously knew what she was doing this whole time, playing with him. It was sexy as fuck but still messed with the brainiac. 

He took his time in analyzing her features, making it obvious what he was doing. She just tilted her head in response. Large indigo eyes.. he'd never seen ones like them before today. Dark wavy hair that looked like silk flowing down, he never paid so much attention to a woman's hair before unless they were a criminal. Her outfit was all black and nothing jumped out in familiarity...but her shoes, or rather boots. He looked back up, her pale and smooth looking skin, her alluring curves. He hadn't recognized those eyes before today because he saw them for the first time less than an hour ago, except at a distance from her place onstage. He didn't know the color, only that she had winked at him and they stood out against her pale face. 

"Holy shit! You're Raven!" His eyes widened and his eyebrow shot up. How could he not see it before? Fuck he sounded like an idiot. 

She smiled and she looked so gorgeous in that moment. Her laugh fluttered around the bar as her hand fell to his knee. "Wow, Tim. I'm surprised it took you so long. I certainly gave you lots of attention during the show." 

"Hey, in my defense you were at least fifty feet from me, wearing...uh more revealing clothes, and your hair was completely different. Besides I've had a few drinks since and my brain's not working as efficiently." He reached down and laid his hand on top of hers, leaning into her space. Rachel didn't react or move away as if comfortable with his closeness. 

"Excuses excuses." She waved her hand in a dismissively playful manner. "Would you like to leave Tim?" Her voice now was sultry and almost a whisper of seduction. 

Tim froze, he'd never been in a situation like this. These were the kinds of things that happened in movies, not to him. She was asking him to go home with her...unless he misread the whole situation and she was asking him to leave! Oh God, did he make her uncomfortable? No, she came to him, flirted with him! He was overthinking, overanalyzing. Great, now he was taking too long to answer, shit, he had to say something!

"You want to leave with me?" His face was red in embarrassment. Head tilted and eyebrows set as high as they could go, he had lost all steampower of his attempt to be smooth and now he was just an idiot like every other guy, like his dumbass friends. "I'm sorry. Of course you want to leave with me….….fuck me!" He slapped his forehead and then his eyes widened as he then realized how awful the timing of his curse was. "Wait! No I didn't mean that either. You don't want to fuck me. I mean...not that I don't want you to, because I do….uh... this isn't coming out right." His hands were held out and he was starting to sweat. 

Rachel just looked amused at his stupidity and casually waited for him to take his foot out of his mouth.

"What I mean to say is, I'm not trying to be cocky or have any expectations. I was trying to sound less stupid and well I pretty much failed at my recovery. I told you I talk too much when I drink." He rubbed the back of his neck. Good thing none of the guys were near, the bartender gave him some weird looks, but at least Tim didn't have to worry about the guy teasing him about it relentlessly for the rest of time. 

Rachel smirked and stood up, brushing her skirt down and tossing her hair over her shoulder. She took a few steps away and turned halfway giving Tim an expectant look. "I take that your answer was a yes. Or was all that rambling a way to tell me to look elsewhere for company?" 

"Yes. Definitely yes!" He stood up immediately and tossed some bills to pay the rest of the tab and followed after her. His eyes dropped to her swaying hips and he'd never felt luckier. They made it out of a back door and they silently walked by each other taking in the cool night air. 

"So, Rachel." He looked down beside him. Though she had on heeled boots, she was still half a foot shorter than him. He could add cute to the many attributes she held. "Would you like me to drive?"

"Ideally. I don't have a car and it wouldn't be smart to leave yours here overnight. I'll give you directions to my place." She glanced up and smiled softly at him. 

"Great!" He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to his car. He was glad he drove his own car, it gave him a chance to show it off. He didn't think Rachel would be easily impressed by a nice car, but his wasn't just any run of the mill nice car. Tim proudly drove an all black 1967 Ford Mustang. Tim's biological family was well off, but when Bruce Wayne took him in, he had more opportunities including working for Wayne Enterprises and getting paid very handsomely. 

Rachel stopped a few feet short and let out a low whistle. "Ok, Mr. Drake. I have to be honest, I wasn't expecting this beauty to be yours."

"What were you expecting? A Prius?" He laughed and opened the passenger door for her. 

"What do you do for a living? This car is immaculate." She adjusted her skirt and ran her hand along the dashboard. Tim just chuckled and closed the door, jogging to his side.

"I work as a financial analyst at Wayne Enterprises. But I want to work in law enforcement soon. That's what my new degree is in."

"Wow, handsome and intelligent. How new?"

"Actually just a few days ago." He smiled and the engine roared to life. 

"Congratulations, Tim." She smiled genuinely back at him and his stomach flipped. She made him feel some type of way. She pulled her phone out and handed it to him, directions already plugged in. He pulled out of the parking lot and followed the instructions given by the device. 

Her place wasn't too far from the club, quiet music played in the background, but he wanted to use this time to get to know her more before…. before they stopped talking. 

"How long have you been in the band?"

"About three years, including the awkward stage of figuring out if we were good enough to be a band and what our names would be."

"How'd you come up with the names?"

"I've always known my stage name would be Raven. It was my mother's nickname for me. That's also why we ultimately chose Nevermore as the band name too. Jenni felt like she was a curse or bad luck charm for those around her, except us, so Jinx came easy. Toni went with Argent as a kind of fuck you to the bullies that made fun of her super pale skin color. And Wally took inspiration from Kid Rock and combined it with the fact that he's 'the fastest drummer alive'. Thus became Nevermore." 

"Very cool. Does your family come to your shows? You're really good, I'm sure they're proud." He glanced at her and noticed that her shoulders were hunched and she idly played with the rings on her fingers. "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that if it's personal."

"No..no, it's fine. I..uh.. don't have any family left. My mother passed away when I was eight. She was the only person I had. My father was never a part of my life and never will be."

"I'm very sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult for you being so young." He reached out and reassuringly held her hand.

"It was, but I had a small community of people that took care of me. And before you get the wrong idea, it wasn't a cult. I grew up in Norway."

"Norway? Wow, what part? If it's not too much to ask, how did you end up here?"

"Full of questions aren't we?" He shrugged in answer and squeezed her hand gently. "It was a small village called Azarath and they had such a unique culture. The oldest woman, Azar, was the first baby born in the village a hundred years ago. They named it after her and she became such an important figure. It was most important to her to continue the traditions of her people. They were all pacifists and meditated every day, everyone was so happy and peaceful and thus there was no crime in Azarath, just community. My mother fled from the U.S., away from my abusive father. She took me with her and picked the flight that would get her the farthest away. She had nothing with her except me and an empty bottle. We were starving and nobody helped us. Then one of the Azarathians saw us and gave us a home, gave us hope. They helped my mother raise me. When I was old enough I wanted to learn everything about their culture and every culture. They called me Raven from the Norse mythology of Odin's ravens, symbolizing wisdom and thought. I sometimes think of it as the death omen rightfully earned when my father sent some bad people to locate me to take me away. Azar gave me her journal and my mother gave me all the money from the village. They had all saved me and I didn't understand what was happening, but I ran to the city and got on a plane back to the United states. I found a shelter and lived there until I was eighteen. I found out that those men killed everyone in Azarath. It was all my fault, because I wasn't there. They would have stopped if they got what they wanted. I fled and they killed an entire culture." Tears now flowed down her face. He had put the car in park when they reached her apartment complex. He didn't move to get out and instead slid over to her and wrapped his arms around her. 

Tim gently stroked her hair and let her cry. "Shh, it wasn't your fault. They saved you from a bad man, a bad life. Their culture lives within you and Azar's journal. We don't know what those men would have done, perhaps the outcome would have been the same because they are terrible people. But they knew that you could have a safe future and carry on their memory. Raven has a new meaning now, beyond wisdom and thought. To me it means brave, strong, graceful."

Rachel's sobs were now soft sniffles and she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. You probably were hoping to get laid and now you're comforting a crazy girl."

 

"Hey, I'm not complaining. You're not crazy. And I told you I had no expectations. Come on, let's get you inside, I'm sure it's more comfortable than my car." He felt her nod and he got out to open her door.

"Thank you Tim. I…" She took a breath and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You're very kind. There's not many, if any, like you."

"I appreciate that, I can confidently say there is no one like you Rachel." He smiled at her and she grabbed his arm guiding him to her apartment door. 

[icantbraintoday-tryagainlater]

You are Expendable

You are a hard working individual Pride yourself on your work You show up early and stay late You never miss a meeting or an email “We are lucky to have you, You are such a great asset to the team. With everything you do, to show our gratitude We will fire you without question.” You work hard every day Put your heart and soul into the job You encourage your coworkers, teammates Take that overtime and bust your ass You don’t sleep, you think of what You can do better tomorrow Yet you are expendable. Your job does not need you You will be replaced by the end of the day. Your job does not value you, You are a commodity that can be replaced. Your skill is teachable, Your knowledge is common. The truth is you are expendable And they’ll replace you for their financial gain.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I should have known from the 1st day of training my job as a claim associate for a Big Name National Insurance Company that I would regret my decision to apply.

I should have known when within two days of training I was pulled to the side and written up. For my neighbor talking to me.

I should have known.

So this is all on me, I know, but I thought that this company would treat me right and it was only these two bitter old employees who were about to retire.

I was wrong. I was so wrong.

the first year was amazing! I met new friends, I was great at my job, I had the best manager in the world! I was surprised that I could like working in Insurance. I was being talked to about advancement, different areas of the company I would excel at, and the right path to follow to achieve my goals.

Then She came along. Covid hit, we were all sent home, and a brand new manager took over my team. I didn’t think much of it, because honestly? She seemed fine. She was new to managing, but not new to the job. My biggest critique then had just been how much time she seemed to take off. She was NEVER there. Every other day she was taking a partial day. She took long weekends, took weeks off at a time. It was weird to say the least. 

But then the snippy emails came. The bitchy remarks.

My team suffered GREATLY. We went from being one of the top performing teams to suddenly being at the bottom. And all of these Outliers Reports that we had never heard of started becoming this huge deal.

Literally never heard of these reports, and then one week we were all on them. And it was a BIG DEAL (TM). Then we were getting in trouble for being in the wrong call states (the call states we have been told to be in for specific situations since we were trained were suddenly the wrong call states).

All of this I was willing to just deal with. But then...

Then my mom got sick. I got a call from my father at around 1 or 2PM Thursday, November 19, 2020. My mom was going to the ER because they thought she was having a stroke. I told my boss I couldn’t be at work and left for the day. Found out that it was a tumor, possibly cancer. Within 2 weeks she was in surgery to remove the mass and we found out it was Glioblastoma. The worst brain cancer.

And my friends and family kept asking “Is your work understanding? Being accommodating?” And I couldn’t say they were. They were the complete opposite of understanding.

I fought for a while to make them understand and to just ask for simple accommodations only to be met with “If you can’t do your job then go home.”

Below is a letter I wrote to HR.

“To whom it may concern,

My name is ______, and I work as a claims representative in the Auto Property Claims, Express. I am writing to you today to bring up some issues I have recently run into with the way Express is run, and I would like to discuss these with you and hopefully find a solution so if someone else is ever in my position, they are treated better.

Specifically, I would like to discuss how I was treated when I found out my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer.

I received a call on my first break on Thursday, November 19th, from my father. He told me that my mother was on her way to the ER. I immediately IM’d my manager, *blacked out*, and requested to leave, as my father cannot take care of my mother alone since he is blind. She simply said that she logged me out, and I did not think anything of her short reply.

I came back to work on Monday, November 23rd, because I had no more PTO, despite still waiting for my mother’s MRIs to come back with the official diagnosis. She was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor on her brain.  I could not afford to take time off (and also welcomed a distraction), but knew I would not be much help on phones, so I asked for tasks and waited 40 minutes for a response.  However, She simply stated that it wasn't possible for me to do other tasks - that either I could answer calls and talk to customers while in crisis and crying or miss work and not get paid.

I understand there are rules and managers cannot change our schedules on a whim; however, it felt crass that she would not even discuss an alternative. In the past I know that myself and others have been given courtesy during extreme circumstances, so I had spoken with another team manager about it, and he told me he would speak with Jessica for me.

Right before close, however, I received a very snippy IM from Her stating the following: “Just so you know, I had spoken with my boss, *blocked*, about this. And she said we couldn’t do that. And you were logged out for 40 minutes earlier today so I took the liberty of changing your T2 for that as an Unscheduled PTO.”

Those 40 minutes were while I was waiting for her response and trying to get myself together after learning horribly devastating news. I also felt very attacked and that if I were to do anything that she did not like from now on that she would retaliate against me. I still feel as though she will retaliate against me just because I went to another manager with an issue that she did not appear to care about at all. 

She has also consistently been lacking in manager experience, as well. The most prominent example of this is that she will not (or possibly does not know how to) help with personal development, either within the company nor in my current job position. When she brings up any areas where I could do better, she simply tells me “do better,” and when I ask for advice on how to go about doing so because I feel as though I am doing all I can she simply tells me again “do better." I can provide examples if you would like.

I attempted to speak about this with HR, but they simply asked why I was upset that my manager was asking me to do my job. I felt isolated afterwards, and felt as though Big National Insurance Company in general does not care about their employees in the least. Our motto is Remarkable. But my experience during this tragic time of learning that my mother might not just have brain cancer, but may never regain control or strength of her left side (her dominant side) ever again, coupled with the fact that my father only went blind 3 years ago so I now have 2 disabled parents whom I may need to start taking care of on a regular basis, has been anything but remarkable

I was told to get CIGNA to look into ADA accommodations. However, I needed the accommodation immediately, and CIGNA can take weeks, if not months, to get established. In that moment I needed to know that I could do my job while also helping my family through this horribly difficult time, and I was told to jump through hoops like a circus animal and maybe I would still have a job after, but probably would not be paid for the time off. I could apply for the Employee Grant, but that’s not a guarantee, and I have to apply for it after I’ve already lost the pay. As I’m living paycheck to paycheck right now, that would mean I would probably be facing eviction by the time I would receive any assistance. 

Accommodations were simply thrown out the window and when my friends ask how I’m doing and if my job is being understanding, I cannot say that they are. Between the points system, which punishes you for being ill or having to care for family, and my boss’s cold, indifferent, and unsympathetic attitude towards me, I feel as though I am literally just a number, an expendable employee who is simply there to be a robot. 

As I stated at the beginning of this email, I would love the chance to discuss this with you to find a solution. So if anyone else is ever put in this position, they are treated with dignity, respect, and sympathy, rather than cold, unfeeling retaliation and robotic responses. So future employees do not have to jump through hoops in order to have simple and understandable accommodations made as they work on getting the rest lined up.

You can reach me at this email, my personal email *blocked*, or through text or calls at my cell number *blocked*. 

Thank you for your time and I hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

*my name*

We had a lovely conversation with my boss, her boss, and a new HR rep. But did anything change? No. If anything, I started getting micromanaged even more.

There is so much more to the story than this, but I - I just don’t have the time or energy to type it up.

Maybe I will another day.

But in conclusion - I should have known. Shame on me for allowing myself to be fooled.