#maybe this time it'll find some people who'll like it

[pepimeinrad]

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy + Kingsman Haydeaux + Merlahad

Too Much Love Will Kill You (Queen)

inspired by this lovely GIF-set

[animebw]

Phenotyping the Stereotypical Anime Love Triangle

Something I've noticed over my years of watching anime is the existence of a specific kind of love triangle. One that pops up over and over again, often in some of the most popular shows of their respective eras. And the more I think about it, the more it feels like the skeleton key to really understand The Male Fantasy as it exists in otaku culture. This particular trope, repeated across so many different genres and decades, is a Rosetta stone for understanding how male anime writers approach female characters and why so many of them fall flat. Or maybe it's just a fun little pattern I've noticed that I'm trying to make into a bigger deal than it is. Either way, I need to rant about it for a second so it'll stop bugging me. So roll up your sleeves and let's do some literary science here.

First, we need to define what exactly I'm talking about. This isn't about every single love triangle, nor is it about harems or any romantic situation with more than three participants. No, the breed of love triangle we're discussing here involves one guy at the center, romantically pursued by or entangled with two specific kinds of female character archetypes. The guy in question is pretty versatile: he can be shy, a self-insert, brash and egotistical, edgy and emo, whatever the story needs him to be. But it's the girls fighting over him who matter. Put simply, this is a love triangle where the two female characters represent two competing philosophies of romantic happiness for the male lead. They aren't just fighting over the guy: they're designed around two specific, directly contrasting character archetypes that the guy must choose between as competing statements on what love should be. And everything about the girls- from personality to color design to even superpowers- is designed to emphasize that contrast.

So what are these two competing archetypes? Put simply: Hot and Cold.

HOT: The exciting girl. Probably a tsundere. Even if not, her personality is strong and overbearing. Her hair is red and most likely long. If this is a fantasy setting, she'll be some flavor of alien or superhero or magical warrior, something that sets her above common people. Her elemental power is, naturally, fire. This girl represents challenge and adventure for the male lead. She's someone who crashes into his normal life and upends it, shaking him out of complacency and inspiring to seize his destiny with two hands. If he chooses her, it symbolizes his willingness to reach for greatness and keep pushing himself to accomplish the impossible, proving himself worthy of being such an incredible girl's partner.

COLD: The shy, quiet girl. Her personality is usually sweet and caring, though sometimes she can be a deadpan kuudere instead. Her hair is blue and almost certainly in some kind of bob cut. Elemental power: ice. While the Hot girl is someone new who crashes into the male lead's life, Cold is near-guaranteed to be his childhood friend, someone who's known him for a very long time. She represents stability and domestic comfort. In contrast to Hot inspiring him to rise above him limits and become something greater, Cold accepts him as he is. She's the girl you don't have to change for, the girl who'll give you a long and happy life of simple contentment. By choosing her, the male lead shows he's able to see the happiness right in front of him and mature into a dependable partner.

Obviously, not every example of this trope fits all these parameters. There's plenty of variation in how many aspects of the Hot and Cold archetypes each girl fulfills. But if you look across anime history, you will find that a great deal of 1-guy-2-girl love triangles fall into this pattern to some extent. For just a few examples:

Darling in the Franxx- Zero Two and Ichigo. Probably the most prominent modern example.

Chivalry of a Failed Knight- Stella and Ikki. Go watch Trixie's video series on The Asterisk War for more info on them.

Re:Zero- Emilia and Rem. Obviously Emilia's a huge departure from the Hot archetype, but she fulfills the thematic purpose of someone Subaru must challenge himself to be worthy of.

Oshi no Ko- Kana and Akane. They swap the expected hair lengths, but the personalities are pretty spot on.

Waiting in the Summer- Ichika and Kanna. Never watched it so I may be wrong, but from what discussions I've seen, these two fit.

Shakugan no Shana- Shana and Kazumi. The show where I first started noticing how often this trope popped up.

Guilty Crown- Inori and Hare. Another case where Inori is much more a Cold archetype personality-wise but fulfills the narrative role of the Hot archetype.

Evangelion- Asuka and Rei. Kind of a funny example because they probably inspired a lot of future hot/cold love triangles, but they're also worst-case subversions of their respective archetypes that turn what they represent into something horrifying (What if the spunky foreign girl is actually a walking shell of trauma? What if the demure girl-next-door was actually just Your Mom?). Essay for another day, perhaps...

Blue Box- Chinatsu and Hina. Pretty textbook example of how this trope functions in a normal, grounded high-school setting with no magic or monsters or whatever.

Your Lie in April- Kaori and Tsubaki. See above.

Fate/Stay Night- Sort of an edge case with Saber and Rin both fulfilling the Hot archetype, while Sakura tackles the Cold archetype.

And finally, an honorable mention for Flip Flappers, which asks the question, "What if there was no guy and the girls were just in love with each other instead?"

It's worth saying at this point that I don't think this trope is inherently bad. Writing characters who represent two contrasting ideas or philosophies on how to live is a staple of literature across history. And I don't think all of these examples are bad either! If you've been around on this blog long enough, you know how much I adore the way Re:Zero handles Subaru's relationships with the girls around him. But the reason this trope bugs me so much is, well... have you noticed anything missing in this discussion of what these archetypes represent and what it means for the guy to choose one or the other?

Exactly: What about what the girls want? What are their desires? So often it feels like the girls in this kind of love triangle are written solely for their importance to the male lead, with little consideration for who they are as people. This trope can work, but only when everyone involved has dreams and personal goals beyond the triangle itself, things they want to accomplish that are bigger than who ends up smooching who at the end. And while the guy usually has bigger, more plot-relevant things going on, it's a bit of a coin toss whether or not the girls are allowed that same interiority. More often, they only exist for the sake of some dude's personal growth, denied the chance for the narrative to build something resonant out of their own circumstances and speak to their own experiences. Case in point: Akane being driven to attempted suicide by online harassment in Oshi no Ko mostly just existing as an excuse for her to fall in love with Aqua for saving her with no lingering impacts on her psyche or her relationship with the entertainment industry. Because why focus on how this traumatic turn of events affects her when her story only really matters in service to someone else's narrative?

The Hot/Cold love triangle exists for straight boys and men to explore their perspective on love. It gives male viewers a choice between the excitement of love as a constant adventure that challenges you to be better and the warmth of love as a stable commitment that accepts you as you are, and it tries to guide them toward the answer it believes it's best. But a relationship isn't something you can possess like an object. It's not a choice you can make on your own. It's a partnership between two people, each of whom matters equally in building a life together. And if stories like this fail to show men the importance of the woman's perspective? Then no matter which best girl wins, all girls lose.

PS: Surprise! Stealth advertisement for my webcomic, lol. I actually got the inspiration for Beyond the Sable Shore from thinking about this trope and wondering, "How could I write this kind of love triangle in a way that's actually compelling and meaningful and does justice to the female characters?" So if this discussion was interesting for you and you wanna see me grapple with this trope a little more, feel free to check it out!

[vanmarkus]

aight buckle in cuz imma be a sap for a quick second.

i have been through a lot of tough periods in my life and yes some of them were of the 'i'm confused and lost like every teenager ever' variety but some of them were of the 'every person i've ever known has let me down and i'm not sure i can keep going' kind too... my point is, i'm not very big on getting close to people, or well, more precisely; letting people close to me because it'll always just end in disappointment and more hurt.

i am at a point in my life where a lot of things are far from perfect and am still struggling to even entertain the idea of trusting people... but fandom has done so much for me in the last couple of years, like genuinely.

yes, i am an adult who had multiple jobs and i do grocery shopping and pay bills and sign contracts and meet people... but the people i truly connect with, i've met all of them through our shared interests in our silly little shows.

and maybe i don't really have a point here, aside from just being really grateful that there are people who will be there if i have to talk, even if i'm not sure how to say what i need to say, that there will be people who'll motivate me and reassure me that things will be alright and that i'll do just fine.

and maybe things are still rough and maybe i still find it hard to let my walls down, but just knowing that i got people waiting on the other side makes the process all that much easier.

so however close we are; if we ever just exchanged headcanons or if you know my legal name, i am still just as thankful for tugging me out of the gutter, one step at a time.

[zeldabecameaqueen]

hello qsmp enjoyers, here's my goodbye to a server that saved my days for a year now

i don't know what will happen with the qsmp in the future but i just can't put myself in it anymore

i feel disrespected by the choices Quackity's Studios made, as a french person, but also as someone who's been abused as a worker. I understand that the process may be long (every administrative stuff is hell) for the studio to solve the financial and hierarchical situation, and I believe Quackity did everything to solve the issue as fast as he could (it's a belief, at no point i'm saying this is the truth of course).

however, i do not agree with him being neglectful towards his own project, towards his own admins, towards the qsmp community, i do not agree with him being radio silent towards his employees/volunteers, not thanking them once they left, not communicating anything to them about their own future, i do not agree with him either being blind to their loudly expressed needs or purposely ignoring them, i do not agree with him telling everyone "stuff takes time" but also allowing new events to happen on the server, and i'm extremely disappointed in this whole situation, because it divides more than ever a community and a project that i, among a lot of other people, cherish since a year now, when simple mesures such as COMMUNICATION were ignored.

frankly i think that most of the people would have better understood and been patient if Quackity's Studios didn't keep on announcing new events like nothing was happening

the reason i'm not talking too much about the financial issue is that : 1. I believe finding a way to pay admins that are still in the qsmp is a priority to Quackity nowadays, along with firing those who mistreated the employees/volunteers ; 2. I believe they will find a solution regarding the incomes (merch actually being a means to pay the admins is one of them)

i'm writing this during qsmp awards, i know a lot of ccs will be there. i'm a little hurt and disappointed but at the same time, i know some of them have a personal relation to Quackity that we as viewers don't have, they have their reasons to trust Quackity, i just don't agree with them, but please, no hate towards them or to people who'll watch the future events

it's a goodbye even though no one knows me lmao (i spent hours and hours watching, filling the vods of timestamps, translating youtube clips, even drawing again since a long time, i filled in the qsmp fandoms, did presentation docs and put hours into spreadsheets of the ccs statistics), but know that being a part of this community was a life experience for me, in so many ways, i'm forever thankful for the people who made this project possible, i'll miss sharing my hyperfixation with you all

🎨 also, I saved a bunch of qsmp fanarts that I didn't want to rb because I didn't want to support in any way what was happening, i didn't want to make people feel like watching the streams was ok, instead, I wanted to let the most room for any info about the admins' situation

i realize now that it wasn't fair, their art comes from a place of love, and whatever their reason was to continue watching qsmp despite all that was happening is not my business. They did art, and good art, so i'll reblog the last qsmp fanarts and probably will continue to share some from time to time

🩵 big big thanks to the artists and the ccs for creating such an amazing universe, i hope you'll keep the spirit and maybe leave with good friends, and obviously i'm so proud of all the eggies (by that I mean their admins), who have spoken up and left a project despite their obvious love for it, thanks to Lea for starting all this, freeing admins from an unbearable situation they might have not even recognized as so at the time

i don't know if i'll be back, for now i need to step back, but if i see one day that the situation got all fixed and safe and that actual apologies were made, then maybe i'll come back to this unique qsmp (it'll certainly feel changed tho)

[fuck-customers]

I loved my job when I got it but three years later it's taken a rapid descent into me hating it.

There's nothing I enjoy about it anymore. The things that were nice about the job (time off as needed, I can listen to music all day, I work with animals and I love seeing them every day, decent pay raises) have either become not worth it, something my coworkers have made terrible, or something the joy has just been vacuumed out of.

One coworker listens to music, tiktoks, and musicals on her phone without earbuds and extremely loudly. It's just her and me in the room. I'm stuck in there for 4 hours on a mindless task and I'm beginning to lose it. I hear her bullshit even with two earbuds in. My coworkers don't treat me like a person. I'm left out of everything. They ignore me when I speak. They move my supplies and the one who MAKES the materials for my job just doesn't sometimes, sometimes for a full week or more, which costs me multiple hours of work. I've been here longer than anyone and I don't know what I've done to deserve this. I've barely interacted with them. I love the animals still but I don't enjoy interacting with them as much as I used to. I clock in and out and spend every day either numb or angry. I get home and I want to cry.

I spend my days off dreading the next shift and my heart rate has gone up. I get up before work and I want to die. I have no energy at all. It's work, come home and shower, force myself to eat since I don't have the appetite before work or the money to order food at work since it's in the middle of nowhere. I'm barely sleeping. I need to go to therapy but that's $200 a session and I don't have time anyway.

I don't have options. It's this place or nothing. I'm disabled, I won't pass a drug test because I use d8 (legally) for pain, and everything around here starts at $9/hr if I'm lucky.

I want to stay in bed tomorrow and no call no show until they forget who I am. But they won't, and I'm the only person trained to take care of the animals. No one else has this job. I was their first employee and I'm irreplaceable and they know it. I basically skipped Friday without any consequences because what are they supposed to do? It's me or find someone who'll take the job and spend half a year training them.

But I want to leave so badly and I can't. I won't let the animals suffer because of me. Even if I'd love to leave the people there frantic to replace me.

I'm trying to schedule a meeting with my boss to request consistent hours, a decent raise of at least a dollar, and some fucking peace and quiet so I don't have a mental breakdown at 10 in the morning. Oh, and maybe figure out why grown fucking adults are pretending I'm invisible. Maybe if that works it'll get better working there again.

If not.. I guess I'll just continue to be miserable until I wake up one day and just can't bring myself to get up at all.

[littlespoonevan]

Ciara!! you are so real for that tag 'i just wanna be hELD' like???? relationships were never a necessity in my life,,hell,,im 28 and like never had one actually and it never truly bothered til this year. I feel embarrassed for not having anyone in my life ever and start to think that maybe I have some kind of a problem? because yes I haven't actively searching for it but also nobody offered anything? showed any interest?idk? and these days all I want is just to be held. I wanna come to a home where im 100% me. I'm sorry dumbing this on you I am thinking about it a lot these days and seeing your post and tags was like universe screaming at me or sth

oh bud, you are absolutely not dumping this on me!!! i'm nodding along vigorously with everything you're saying!!!!

i've been in one relationship (which was bad for So many reasons and certainly was not romantically fulfilling in any way) and i've dated a little but the true, genuine affection that comes with being loved by someone is just......not something i've ever experienced lol.

and i think when talking about it online a lot of the time the legitimate reasons some people have for wanting to be in a relationship sort of get brushed off in a 'you don't need a relationship to be happy!!!! romantic love isn't everything!!!! be proud to be alone!!!!' kind of way. and i mean. like you said, i'm fine on my own generally. it doesn't bother me. and i don't need a relationship to be happy.

but also. i'm still allowed to want one?????? why shouldn't we get to fall in love, u know??? or find that happiness and love and affection with somebody????? why should i have to settle for being alone when most of the world isn't????

and y'know, re the age thing, i think it's a vicious cycle bc the older you get, the more it maybe feels embarrassing to reveal your lack of experience with relationships so it can make you back out of dating someone before things get serious but then that just means going Even Longer without having those experiences askjdfh i have yet to work through that issue myself lol

also. i know dating apps have been very helpful in one way but in another i feel like they have rUINED dating culture bc it feels like now you do have to be actively looking in order to date anyone. (i am so firmly against the whole 'it'll happen when you least expect it' thing that is highkey not true anymore askjdfh) but my experience of those apps is just everything feeling so formulaic and like you're ticking boxes of the same basic conversation you have with multiple different people while also swiping past people you could potentially really like bc all you're seeing is a few pics and whatever info they've decided to reveal in their bio (which is usually extremely limited). and in general, i think they really don't benefit people who prefer knowing someone in person/being friends first before dating (like me)

but yeah tl;dr. it's really hard sometimes, when i've had a bad day or i'm stressed, to know if one of my friends felt like that they can go home to partners who'll hold them and comfort them and make their day better without having to be asked. and i just....go home, pick myself back up, and carry on. it would just be nice to not have to deal with everything on my own, y'know?????

relationships certainly aren't everything and not all of them are good but also i would like someone to take care of me now, thanks 🥺

[rudolphsboyfriend]

Hey blue

I am tired

I don't wanna fight anymore

I just wanna be happy

Whenever I try to tell someone how I felt hurt by what he did, he just sort of... Justifies himself... I can't keep having this convo again and again... I just want him to acknowledge that I went through a dark time and he didn't treat me the way he should have... Wtf do i do

Hey anon! I'm so so sorry you're going through this rn.. :( it's so tiring to keep going through the same thing again and again and feel like you're getting nowhere. It's gonna take a while and you're going to have to work but you have to believe that you'll feel better eventually. Because you will! Nothing in life is permanent, and that includes sadness. You HAVE to keep this in mind on your worst days, you cannot give up on trying to heal.

As for your situation with whoever hurt you, firstly i think you need to distance your healing from his actions? In some ways, aren't you in the same position you were in before? Where you can't seperate your emotions from his actions and they're hurting you in the end. You getting better cannot be dependant on someone else's actions and giving him that power over you is not something that he deserves.

Of course it'll feel vindicating to know that he is guilty, but at the end of the day it's still you who needs to work on moving on uk? YOU know he did you wrong and YOU need to deal with the consequences of that, not him. In many cases it is the best to confront the people who hurt you and tell them how it affected you, but it isn't always possible. And especially in your case, trying to explain your side is only causing you more pain. So it's better to just leave it be rather than trying time and time again to convince him. The sooner you're able to seperate your emotions from his actions, the better.

Another thing is, I'm not too sure abt the situation but if it's possible for you to do so, than maybe cut him out of your life, or atleast maintain a good distance from him. It'll be much easier to move on from someone you don't see regularly. This sounds so obvious but you'd be surprised how many people forget it. Don't keep going back to him to explain how he hurt you, and even more, don't go back to him at all!

I know this is all much eaiser said than done, but that doesn't make it impossible. Getting better is a struggle and it never feels like a straight path, but that doesn't mean you'll never be better, it doesn't mean ull always feel like this. You're going to have to work but it'll pay off in the end!! And until then, maybe try and find people in your life who'll remind you of these things. Sometimes we don't even need new advice, we just need a reminder of things we might already know. And having someone helping u thru it makes it eaiser to take those big steps like not explaining urself or cutting him off. And hey, I'm always here anytime you want someone to talk to. Get better soon <33

[choshasan]

TLDR; don't show your kids on the internet.

This has been said about a billion times on the internet but, some people still don't know so;

Dear mom and dads of the internet, espetially of young children,

PLEASE. Avoid showing your child's face online, even on a private account, no account is truly private.

PLEASE avoid showing your child in diaper, underwear, swimsuits, shirtless, and so on. Only show your child fully clothed.

If you can't get a shot while your child is fully clothed, censor it. Add an emoji, and censoring in editing your photos/videos.

PLEASE.

It WILL make your video / photo reach a terrible terrible audiance, no matter how many sweet comments there are, no matter how few people tell you, no matter how "protected" your account is.

Do NOT share bath time photos/videos, no matter how old they are, no matter how cute and wholesome they are, Do not.

"But I want to give bathing tips" do it using your words and a bath tub without a child in it. Do is using a baby doll, do it using literally anything that isn't a real life child.

Do not, for the love thay all that is good, put your own child, or someone else's child in such a vulnerable spot.

Even pictures and videos of your child sleeping should mostly be avoided.

I know you find them adorable, I know you want to share them with the world, but sadly, the world is filled with bad people, who wish to do bad things to your child and other children, protect them and spread awareness and be concious.

Maybe they won't be vocal, but creeps and pedos are everywhere, they are lurking, they are watching, and they know how to get their way.

Also, with the rise of AI and the malicious things it can do, the things that can be done with pictures of your child are even worse nowdays.

Please be concious, the internet isn't like a cute photo album you share with only your loved ones, it's not an at home recorded tape on cassetes you sit down to watch with your loved ones, it's like taking a picture and posting it on a huge billboard in the middle of a large city. "But my page is small, no one will find it"

All it takes is one download. There are so many ways around even sites that don't let you download content, like screenshots & screen recordings, websites that can download pictures and videos from just a URL and so on.

Even just sending pictures to loved ones,

You never truly know.

For an example, you may send your mother a picture of your baby being adorable, and she'll find it cute, so she'll send it to your aunt, who'll send it to your cousins, who'll send them to their friends, who'll send them to their own friends, and so on, and it may end up reaching terrible people like that.

Or you'll share a picture on your story, it'll be screenshotted and shared by your friends, and then their friends, and then bad people...

I'm saying this as someone who's mother has albums upon albums on facebook of her kids, and only has family and friends on her very private facebook, yet somehow, when I was a toddler, she shared an adorable picture of me sleeping, and from one way to another, within her 253 friends, who are only work colleagues, friends and family, and a number which was much, much lower back in the day, that picture of me was shared enough for it to end up on an auction site, belonging to some pedophile ring. Just because my mother thought a picture of her todler sleeping was adorable and wanted to share it with her loved ones, on her private account.

Please, consider your child's safety on the internet, always.

You wouldn't bring your child in just a diaper and t-shirt to the grocery store or on a walk, the internet is much less safe than that.

Also, please be aware that with the right ammount of knowledge and the wrong intents, from a picture, you can trace things like the IP address (device number basically) it was posted with, and find who it belongs to, and link that to the person it belongs to and where they live.

With just the right ammount of knowledge, that is easily findable on the same internet you are reading this on, and the same internet you post pictures of your child on, someone could devise a plan to find out where you and your child live, and devise a plan to come take them.

Now, I know this sounds like just a big post to scare you, and like it's a lot of "what if's" and "this would only happen in a movie", but it does happen. Often, with the sweetest, kindest people in your life, whom you'd never expect it to. Also often with complete strangers you would have no ideas how they even found your account in the first place.

Nothing is ever truly private and anonymous on the internet, please. Keep your children and yourself safe.

For the same reason you wouldn't post naked pictures of yourself and your friends online,

For the same reason you wouldn't leave a child alone in a public space,

For the same reason as so many things,

No one likes being vulnerable,

Please, do not make your child publicly vulnerable.

You love them. Don't put them in danger.

Please, help repost this if you can, and feel free to add tags so this can reach as many parents and future parents as possible,

Do feel free to add on other reasons to keep kids off the internet if you have any, espetially psychology advice like the long lasting effects it can have on children and so on, I don't have the kind of knowledge in children's psychology to add all of those, so if anyone does, please, feel free to share it and help out parents from all over,

Feel free to translate this into any language to reach a broader audiance

Let's all spread love, peace and safety for a brighter, beautiful future for us and for children ❤️❤️

[haretic]

Present day; 21/06/24 | Present time; 8:48pm ... but whose counting, anyways?

The solstice and connection (again)

I started this post last night, but felt really bad and went to bed. Either way.

I missed the solstice. Had a three hour nap from 5-8pm, had some dinner and tried to start this post, then went back to bed at 9pm. Slept nearly 13 hours. Weird for me, considering my usual sleeping habits. I'm not fussed though, just hoping it doesn't happen again. It'd be a lame summer if it did.

That aside, I was thinking more about the type of connection I crave with someone. I feel like I never really grew out of my "wanting to be saved" phase. I feel like I'll always be that kid, waiting for some knight in shining armor to swoop in and carry me far away, take care of me, love me unconditionally even when I can't do that same to them. I want to be around someone so much and have it feel so natural I won't even realize I've fallen for them. I know thats unhealthy, I know human connection requires two people to put in the effort. I think a lot of it is just wanting someone to love me unconditionally, and to see all the bad parts of me and still choose me again and again until i finally feel safe enough to choose them back. I'm working on it

I have great connections with people now, I have amazing friends, but I'm always worried one day they'll choose someone better over me, or that I'll say the wrong thing and become irredeemable. I always feel like I'm loved on the condition I behave exactly how people want, and I've never really been able to shut that feeling down, so I always just mimic them and mirror their own behaviors, I find out what they want, and what they need out of the relationship and give it to them at risk of my own mental and physical health just so that maybe I'll be likeable a little longer this time. Then, when they ask me out, or confess their love for me, I realize it'll never work out, and I cut them off. I know that I wouldn't be able to keep up that behavior, I wouldn't be able to keep being who they wanted me to be the entire time, so I make sure to not give myself the opportunity.

Now, this could all be avoided if I just was who I am from the beginning, so they'd never form these false relationships with a fake person, but I find that so hard to do. I don't know how to unmask that well, and sometimes it seems to take more effort than actually masking does, so I just don't. I do have friends I can unmask completely around, but its always been after masking for months or years. Its like a cycle. I'll mask around them for ages at a time, they'll form feelings that aren't truly reciprocated because I'm not truly who I say I am, we'll take a break for some months, and then we'll reconnect and I'll be able to unmask around them. But those friends are few and far between, and while I value them so much, I wish I didn't have to go through that process every time I meet someone new. They aren't always guaranteed to want me back after everything I put them through. I want someone who'll let me mask or unmask and love me unconditionally regardless. And who won't care if I need space for a few months, or if I'm uncomfortable expressing emotions. I want someone who'll protect me from everything thats ever hurt me, past and present. But that person just doesn't really seem to exist these days, and every time I think I've found that person, they always just seem to take advantage of me, and part of that feels like my fault.

I think I'm truly doomed when it comes to connection with others. I try to connect, I share my day, my history, my likes and dislikes, and hope for the same from others, but in the end all I get back is dry interactions or ghosted. I try to not connect, not be too clingy and be more clinical about my actions, don't let myself try to connect right away so I don't freak the other person out, but that seems to make me seem like some robotic monster. There just seems to be no winning. All the connections I have currently feel so precariously balanced, I feel like I can't truly truly be myself around them, or they'll get weirded out by how much I am. I don't know what it is about me, I just always seem to be too much much for everyone except a few select people, and even then I'm sure if I showed them how much I can actually be they'd leave all the same.

I don't even think I'm particularly weird. I don't have any wildly weird interests or hobbies or takes. I think I exist on the same baseline as everyone else. But there just seems to be something about me that people either find massively dislikeable or easy to take advantage of, so either way I end up getting hurt.

I feel like I've come to care less about that these days though. I don't really care when I get hurt anymore, I anticipate it from most things, so I only really care momentarily when it happens, even though I know it does more damage in the long run. I also seem to care a lot less when I'm alone these days. As a kid, it really hurt me how alone I was. I would cry and cry and cry about it. About how much other people seemed to want to hurt me or blamed every bad thing in their life on me. I feel like that's universal when growing up autistic, though, so I've learned to ignore that even though it still happens. I can go a long time without seeing people now, even my own family. Consciously, I don't mind just holing up in my room for days or weeks on end, I don't mind the solitude and the lack of communication, I find things to occupy my time. Subconsciously, though, I think theres an issue. I can tell myself I'm fine on my own and distract myself until my brain is fried, but the minute I get a moment to actually think or let my brain rest, I'm hit with how hard I want this genuine connection with someone.

I want someone who knows my past and experiences my present and wants to be a part of my future.

But I know none of thats guaranteed for me, especially not with the way I've grown up. My therapist and I discussed BPD a few times, if I remember right. It explains a lot of my outbursts and my emotions around abandonment and a lot of the trauma reactions I seem to have. I don't know though, I tell others I have it because it makes the most sense given my behaviour. I worry most about not being able to put a label on it though. Like, what if theres just something really fucked up about me but theres no diagnosis that can explain it, I'm a totally normal person whose just a piece of shit?

Whatever though, I could cry or cut myself about it but I honestly cannot be assed enough to do that right now. I have better things to do with my time. I've got another prom tomorrow with someone I consider a real, true friend and I look forward to that more than anything. It'll be great, I'm sure of it. And it'll mean to distract me from whatever I've got going on in my head, even if its for a little bit.

[legends-of-time]

The Journey of Living at Downton

Chapter 10: July to September 1917

Masterlist

It is chaos as the house is transformed into a Convalescence home as everyone is scurrying around to set everything up in time. Emma is currently carrying parts of a bed into the Drawing room, which is to become the Ward, along with Major Clarkson and Sybil.

"Why will we only have officers? Surely all wounded men need to convalesce." Sybil asks as they enter and set up their pieces. There are multiple people inside – Ethel, Anna, Gemma and Mr Branson as well as some soldiers are setting up beds while Lady Edith and Lady Grantham watch and Mrs Crawley dictates.

"The Hospital is for officers, and the whole idea is to have a complimentary convalescent home." Clarkson answers.

"Dare us upset the 'perfect balance'," Emma adds. Clarkson sends her a reprimanding look while out of the corner of her eye she can see Mr Branson smile.

"Of course," Sybil continues before anyone can say anything about Emma's comment, "but I don't know if we can make that an absolute rule."

"If the world were logical, I would rather agree with you." Mrs Crawley says.

"Which comes as no surprise." The Dowager says from the door.

"You would not, I imagine." Mrs Crawley throws back.

"You imagine right. What these men will need is rest and relaxation. Will that be achieved by mixing ranks and putting everyone on edge?" The Dowager exits and Sybil follows her into the Hall.

Lady Edith seems to stand by the door looking a bit lost as everyone else flies in and out of the room.

"Don't loiter, Edith. There's plenty to be done." Mrs Crawley says as she passes her.

"Of course, but I'm not quite what to—"

But Mrs Crawley ignores her. "Sybil, I want to have a quick word with you."

Emma walks over to her about to suggest something to her but she hears Mrs Crawley call her name, pulling her away.

——

Now the beds are set up, many of them begin work ferrying in the sheets and mattresses and making up the beds. Sybil, Emma, Gemma and other nurses and servants go around doing so as the other ladies of the house watch.

"Who'll be in charge?" Her Ladyship questions.

"Cousin Isobel thinks it'll be her." Lady Edith answers.

"All I know is that she'll drive us mad before the end." Lady Mary remarks.

"I'm going up to change." Their mother utters distressed.

"I just want to finish this," Sybil says as her mother and Lady Mary leave the room.

"Aren't you going to the Hospital?" Lady Edith asks her.

"Not yet. We're on a night shift. We'll walk down after dinner." Emma pipes up as she walks past them to the next bed.

"And please don't start lecturing me," Sybil says to her sister.

"I won't. The truth is, I envy you." Lady Edith admits.

"Do you ever miss helping out on the Drakes' farm?" Sybil suddenly asks her.

"That's a funny question." Lady Edith answers defensively. "Why?"

"No reason. It's just, you seemed to have such a purpose there. It suited you." Sybil replies.

"It did suit me. I enjoyed it. But now I feel like a spare part." Lady Edith confesses.

"Trust me, you have a talent that none of the rest of us have." Sybil encourages. "Just find out what it is and use it. It's doing nothing that's the enemy."

Emma decides to throw in some ideas. "You could start by asking what the officers need maybe? Books or something? Help that way."

"Perhaps."

——

Emma hears from Mr Carson that Mr Branson has received a letter informing him that he's been called to go for his medical. This causes her to panic, this means he'll have to go to the front. She rushes to the Garage despite the work that needs to be done. She needs to speak to him. Emma finds him washing the car in his overalls.

"Mr Carson's said you've been called up." She says anxiously.

"There's no need to look so serious." He says casually.

Emma gapes at him in shock. "You'd think me a horrible person if I didn't. I've seen the men come back! I learnt about at school! It is serious!"

"It's all right." He says assuredly. "I'm not going to fight."

"B-but you'll have to!" She exclaims.

"I will not. I'm going to be a conscientious objector." Mr Branson declares.

"They'll put you in prison or worse executed or something else!" Emma tells him.

"I'd rather prison than the Dardanelles." He says not budging.

"When will you tell them?" She reluctantly asks.

"In my own good time." Comes the casual response.

"When though?" Emma demands.

"I'll go to the medical," He explains, "I'll report for duty, and when on parade, I'll march out front and I'll shout it loud and clear. And if that doesn't make the newspapers, then I'm a monkey's uncle."

"But you'll have a record for the rest of your life." She points out.

"At least I'll have a life." He replies.

"But it won't work. Not like you want. There's no point." She argues.

"What do you mean?"

"They'll win more than you do. Your message won't be heard and you will be forgotten." He still doesn't look like he'll change his mind. Emma lets out a huff and storms back to the house.

——

Anna catches her at one point later in the day on the servants' stairs.

"You will not believe who I saw in the Village earlier today." She says to Emma.

"Who?"

"Mr Bates. Or I-I think so anyway." She answers. Emma stares closely at her face but it doesn't seem to give much away.

"But I thought he was in London." Why he was there and who he was with is left unsaid.

"So, did I. I don't know what to do." She admits.

"Hm." Emma thinks for a moment. "Maybe ask Lady Mary?"

"Why?" Anna questions.

"Well cause of Sir Richard. Won't he know lots of people, like have a bunch of connections?" She personally doesn't like the man but that doesn't mean they can't use him once in a while.

"Maybe. I'll will mention it tonight." Anna agrees.

——

Miss O'Brien has been fighting for Lady Grantham to keep control of her house and one way she is doing it is to get Thomas into the management of Downton. She proposes the idea to Thomas about it and he seems quite open to the idea of bossing Mr Carson about. To be honest Emma would've joined them in the discussion if it wasn't for the fact that they were smoking; she tries to limit the number of smokers she's around to try out less risk to her health.

There is continued tensions about the convalescence home. It was been decided that the Library will be turned into a Recreation room with the Small Library closed off for the family. Also, despite Mrs Crawley's push to have the family share their eating quarters, tables will be set up in the Great Hall for the mobile officers and nurses.

Thomas has been raised from corporal to acting sergeant and has been given the reigns of the house management as the person needed to have had medical training. However, it is still unclear who would be in overall charge as Major Clarkson will be busy with the Hospital.

William is coming soon for his last night on his way to active duty in France; Emma dreads seeing him cause she knows that before long he'll be in the trenches.

——

Walking in behind Miss O'Brien and Anna, Emma notices that Ethel, Mr Branson, Mr Lang and Gemma are already in the room.

"Are you still here, Mr Branson?" O'Brien asks. They all stand as Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes enter.

"Why don't you stay and have something to eat." Mr Carson says as they all sit.

"Mr Branson's been telling us the news from Russia," Ethel explains.

"And what news is that?" Mr Carson asks.

"Kerensky's been made Prime Minister, but he won't go far enough for me." Mr Branson tells him. Mrs Patmore and George bring in the food. "Lenin denounces the bourgeoisie along with the tsar. He wants a people's revolution. That's what I'm waiting for. Won't be long now." He glances at Emma questionably and she knows he's trying to find out what happens and if he's correct. She looks down as to not give anything away.

"And what happened to the tsar?" Mr Carson questions as he serves himself a plate.

"Imprisoned in the Alexander Palace with all his family."

"Oh, what a dreadful thing." Mrs Patmore mutters as she dishes out food.

"They won't hurt them. Why would they?" Mr Branson says. Kerensky might not but Emma knows Lenin will. The whole family will be killed after the October revolution though she can't remember an exact date. She says nothing as she knows he'll try and figure out more from her.

"To make an example," Anna suggests.

"Give them some credit." Mr Branson responds. "This is a new dawn, a new age of government. No one wants to start it with the murder of a bunch of young girls."

"You don't know that. Nobody knows who will get killed when these things start." Mr Lang argues. "Look at her nephew. Shot for cowardice." Mrs Patmore, and the rest of them, stare at him in shock. "Who would've guessed that when he was saying hello to the neighbours, or kissing his mother goodnight." Mrs Patmore looks as if she's about to cry.

Daisy rushes in. "Can you look at the crumble? I think it should come out, but it's five minutes earli- than you said." Mrs Patmore rushes out crying.

"I'm sorry. I never thought." Mr Lang apologises.

Mrs Hughes gets up from the table to go after Mrs Patmore. "You should think, Mr Lang. You're not the only member of the walking wounded in this house." She leaves and they are left in tense silence.

——

By the end of the day the first batch of recuperators will arrive so there is the frantic rush around to finalise and set up the last little bits. Emma is walking through the Great Hall when she spots Thomas talking to Mr Carson by the door so Emma walks over to them.

"I'm the manager here now, Mr Carson. Or had you forgotten?" She hears Thomas say.

"No, I have not forgotten." Mr Carson replies tersely. "And will you be moving into your old room, or should we prepare a guest bedroom?" Not brilliant that he's already getting on Mr Carson's nerves.

"I'll sleep in my old room, thanks."

Emma decides to interrupt them as she reaches them. "Well well well, Sergeant Barrow." She beams at him.

He gives her a kinder smile than the one Mr Carson had been getting. "Nurse Byrne. So, are we ready for the big invasion? 'Cause they'll be here at tea time."

"We'll have to be ready, won't we, Thomas?" Mr Carson snips.

"We will, Mr Carson. And it's Sergeant Barrow now." Thomas corrects.

"Acting Sergeant, I believe." Thomas' smirk droops.

"Well, everything's nearly ready anyway," Emma says, drawing their attention. "Other things will be realised as we go along."

——

The time has come for the arrival. Emma stands outside with the nurses as the officers begin to arrive. They begin to unload and they all surge forward to organise their transfer. Emma stands at the back of the vehicle to help the men get off safely.

"Quick as you can, gentlemen. Driver, use that road here and go straight into the Hospital." Major Clarkson calls as everyone helps in guiding the officers inside.

Emma walks into the house and she speaks to a nurse and officer on crutches in the Outer Hall. "Don't worry, we'll see to you." She continues into the house. She sees an officer looking a bit lost, half of his face is covered by bandages and he's leaning on a crutch.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Emma asks him.

He jumps, a little startled at being addressed. "Yes I-I... the nurse I was with had to step away. I was hoping to just sit down really."

She smiles gently at him. "Well, if you follow me, I can take you to the Recreation room." Emma guides him to the Library. "Can I ask your name, Sir?"

"Oh, um yes." He stumbles. "Second Lieutenant Billy Prior, Nurse..."

"Byrne," Emma replies. "Just sit here. Would you like something to read?" She helps him settle in his chair.

"Yes, thank you."

"Lady Edith?" Emma calls to the woman who is gazing around the room. "I'm a bit busy at the moment but could help this gentleman find a book he can read?"

The woman blinks for a moment. "Oh, yes of course."

——

Among the chaos Emma sights Captain Crawley talking to his mother who looks very pleased.

"Well, we start our tour of Yorkshire and Lancashire tomorrow and General Strutt knew you lived up here, so he's given me a few hours off." Captain Crawley replies to a question Mrs Crawley must've asked him.

"What a lovely—" She kisses his cheek. "Lovely surprise." She beams at him.

Emma doesn't want to interrupt but she knows she has to. "Mrs Crawley," Emma calls as she approaches them, "Mrs Hughes is looking for you, she's wondering how they can separate the Hospital's linen from their own?"

"You go. We'll talk later." Captain Crawley says to his mother, who leaves. "It's good to see you, Nurse Byrne."

Emma gives him a smile. "You too Sir." She doesn't want to say he looks well or how he is because that might not have the desired impact. "Welcome to the chaos."

"Yes, it seems that way. But good." He replies.

It feels weird talking to him as they often haven't had the chance to. "Yes. Maybe you should have a look around? No harm in telling your general how amazing Downton is in the war effort." Emma jokes.

He chuckles. "No. No harm at all."

——

She guides Captain Crawley into the converted Ward room. Lady Edith is distributing things to the soldiers, Lady Mary is doing the same but with carafes and Sybil seems to be making beds.

"This is the Ward, Sir," Emma says to him. "Now I have to get on."

"Of course." With that, she walks over to the soldier who has a clipboard and is giving instructions to the patients on where to go so Emma begins helping in getting them to their beds.

"I hadn't cast you as Florence Nightingale." Emma hears Captain Crawley say to Lady Mary.

"We can't leave all the moral high ground to Sybil." She replies. "She might get lonely there. How are you? I-I know I mustn't ask you what you're doing."

Emma feels like she shouldn't be listening in on their conversation but she feels too curious about what it is like between them now that she can't help it.

"You can ask what I'm doing in Downton." He picks up a carafe. "We've finished in the Midlands, and tomorrow we start in the camps in the northern counties."

"Ah. Will we see something of you?" Lady Mary asks carrying an empty tray over to the table in the corner to fill it again. Emma had moved so they are now standing directly in front of her.

"I think my general ought to come here." Captain Crawley answers. "It's exactly the sort of thing people like to read about. Nurse Byrne suggested there's no harm in letting him know how much Downton Abbey is doing for the war."

Mrs Crawley's voice cuts through the noise in the room. "Sybil, come, Edith can do that."

Emma watches them mutter together. She may not talk to Lady Mary often these days but she can see that she still has feelings for her father's heir.

Lady Mary walks away but notices her stare. "Oh, don't you start." She speaks. Emma frowns at her confused. What is going on there?

——

Mrs Crawley is trying to be the one in overall charge. She is already trying to arrange the household duties where they overlap with those of the nursing staff. Emma respected her at the Hospital but the way she's ordering around the family around their own home and generally assuming she knows everything and is superior in managing is getting on Emma's nerves.

Emma is pushing one of the wheelchairs towards the house when she spots Mr Branson shining the car in front.

"Would you just take this into the Hall for me?" She asks the nurse next to her.

"Yes, of course." The nurse goes inside and Emma goes to Mr Branson.

"Are you waiting for someone? Do you want me to go and find them for you?" She asks, hoping to get something from him.

"They turned me down. The army." He says instead, walking around the car to the other side.

"Why?" Emma questions though she's somewhat relieved to hear this.

"Apparently I have a heart murmur. Or, to be more precise..." He picks up a letter on the car seat. "A mitral valve prolapse is causing a pansystolic murmur."

"I don't what that means. Is it dangerous?" She asks.

"Only if you're planning to humiliate the British army." Mr Branson chucks the letter back to where it was. "I suppose you're glad."

"You're not going to be killed and you're not going to prison, of course I'm glad!" Emma exclaims.

"Don't count your chickens. If I don't get them one way, I'll get them another." He declares.

"Why do you have to be so angry all the time?" She says frustrated. "I know things aren't exactly great in Ireland—"

He glared and cuts her off as he walks over to stand in front of her. "Aren't exactly great? Aren't exactly great? I lost a cousin in the Easter Rising last year. And you told me didn't tell it was coming!"

"I forgot!" Emma cries. She had admittedly had but also, she's been afraid to tell him too much about the conflict. How would he feel if she told him that there is still ongoing conflict even by the end of the century? Wouldn't it make everything he is doing feel pointless?

"You forgot!"

"Yes! I don't have all the information in my head, it's not like I had time to prepare myself before I arrived!" She almost shouts at him but she tries to control herself as they're in public. "Plus, I don't know much anyway as shockingly they don't teach us about it in English schools. Trust me, I'm annoyed myself!"

"Well, it doesn't matter because he was walking down North King's Street one day and an English soldier saw him and shot him dead." He says through clenched teeth. "When they asked why he was killed, the officer said, "Because he was probably a rebel." So don't say things aren't exactly great in Ireland."

Emma opens her mouth to speak but Lord Grantham appears interrupting her. "Sorry to keep you waiting, but we're going to have to step on it." Mr Branson opens the door for him, a furious expression still on his face. He glares at Emma as he gets in the car and takes off.

——

"I'd met quite an interesting officer the other day," Sybil tells Emma as they walk down for a shift at the Hospital. The argument Emma had with Mr Branson had happened some weeks ago now. There had been a mild apology between them but not much else has happened. She takes Sybil's unintentionally offered distraction.

"Oh?" Emma raises an eyebrow. "Interesting in what way?"

She blushes. "Not like that!"

Emma frowns in feigned confusion. "Like what?"

Sybil lets out a huff but Emma knows she isn't really that mad at her. "Anyway, his name is Lieutenant Billy Prior."

"Oh, I think I met him the first day. You know, when all the chaos began." Emma faintly recalls.

"Well, he suffers from a mild case of mutism and asthma," Sybil explains. "I feel sorry for him as it is not helped by the other officers treat him so snobbishly."

"Why?" Emma asks.

"They call him a 'temporary gentleman' because of his lower rank birth but raised position in the army," Sybil explains. Emma remembers reading about these men. "So, they snub him because of it."

"How terrible," Emma mutters. "They do realise there are worst things worry about right now other than people's social backgrounds?"

"I agree."

There's a moment of silence. "So do you talk often?" Emma says with a smirk.

"Uh now and again," Sybil mumbles with a blush. "He's quite nice I think."

"Really now?"

Sybil laughs. "Stop it." She gives Emma a light shove.

——

Emma finds Sybil often talking with this Lieutenant Billy Prior though she confesses that she doesn't know what is going on between them at the moment as she worries about her parents' disapproval due to his closer societal ranking. Emma can see she quite likes him.

Lady Edith has grown into her element. Emma sees this as she helps Captain Ames work on his walking on the apparatus, which is a slope with railings on either side one day.

Lady Edith has worked out her role of looking after the general needs of the officers. She hands Lieutenant Shirley a book and picks up a large pile. "I'm not sure about Marriott."

"Oh, not to worry." He answers.

"I know we've got lots of G.A. Henty." Lady Edith offers.

"Thank you very much." The Lieutenant replies. Lady Edith walks past Ames and Emma.

"And I haven't forgotten about your tobacco, Captain Ames, just as soon as I can get into the Village." Captain Ames nods his thanks and Emma gives her a proud smile.

There is soon confirmation that Captain Crawley's general is coming to see Downton as a Convalescence home. Emma knows that Mrs Crawley and Lady Grantham will fight tooth and nail to be the one on top and be given the position of overall command.

——

Anna had learnt from Lady Mary that Mr Bates has returned nearby and now works in The Red Lion in Kirkbymoorside, which Emma found very weird but Anna had gone to visit him the day before the arrival of the general and it turns out that he's trying to divorce his wife. He had found out that Mrs Bates had been unfaithful so is using that to get the divorce as well as the fact that he's had to leave the house to prove a broken marriage. It is good to know that he hadn't truly left Anna hanging and is working on them being together legally.

Gemma also tells her that Mr Branson has offered to be a footman for the luncheon they're giving for the general's visit. This made Emma highly suspicious. Why would Mr Branson want to serve as a member of the British army? The very army that murdered his cousin?

That night Gemma and Emma are awoken by someone yelling.

"What?" Emma murmurs drowsily. "What's that noise?"

"I don't know but there's no way I'm going back to sleep while it's happening." Gemma mumbles in reply. They step out of their room to see that the others in the women's section had been woken up as well.

"What is it?" Anna asks.

"I don't know. I can hear shouting." Mrs Hughes replies

"It sounds like it's coming from the men's section," Emma tells them. Mrs Hughes pulls out her keys to open the door to said section.

"We need to find out." Mrs Hughes says as Emma hears Thomas say, "It's Mr Lang."

"What in heaven's name is happening?" Mrs Hughes asks as everyone follows Mr Carson to Mr Lang's room.

"No! No, I can't do it!" Mr Lang cries. Mr Carson turns on the light and they filter in. Emma can see Mr Lang is thrashing around in his bed.

"Mr Lang?" Mr Carson calls.

Mr Lang doesn't hear him. "I can't do it!"

Mr Carson shakes Mr Lang awake. "You're having a bad dream, Mr Lang! You're having a bad dream, Mr Lang!"

Mr Lang clings to his arms, which pulls him up. "They're soldiers, Mr Carson! I see soldiers, but I can't!" Miss O'Brien goes to Lang's side. "I can't go back no matter what!"

"No one's asking you to go back, Mr Lang." Mr Carson replies.

"No, just to put a sock in it," Thomas says snidely. Emma thwacks him on the arm.

"Don't worry, Mr Lang, you've had a bad dream, that's all." Miss O'Brien reassures. These two have gained some sort of connection without Emma noticing.

Mr Lang looks at Miss O'Brien. "Is it a dream?" O'Brien nods and Mr Lang begins to sob.

"Thank God." Mr Carson nods to the rest of them and they leave. Emma glances back at him as they leave. "Oh, thank God. Thank God."

——

The entire household lines up outside to welcome the general. Instead of being on the side of the servants, Emma stands on the other side of the door among the other nurses with the three daughters of the house and Miss Swire on her left.

The car drives by and the soldiers solute. The general's party gets out and salutes the family.

"My cousin, Lord Grantham." Captain Crawley introduces.

"This is very kind of you, Lord Grantham." General Strutt says.

"Welcome." His Lordship replies saluting.

"Lady Grantham. And this is Major Clarkson who runs our Hospital here." Captain Crawley continues. Lord Grantham turns to greet the other members of the general's party.

Mrs Crawley steps forward to introduce herself. "And I am Captain Crawley's mother. And will accompany you on your tour and explain the different levels of care we practice here."

"Lady Grantham and Mrs Crawley will both accompany us as we go around, Sir." Major Clarkson explains.

"Makes a nice change from the craggy-faced warriors I'm usually surrounded by," Strutt remarks.

"I'd like to think that were true. Please, come this way." Her Ladyship leads him to the door and Mrs Crawley quickly joins them.

"There's a large Recreation room..." Mrs Crawley begins to say.

"I don't believe you've ever been to Downton before." Lady Grantham interrupts.

Captain Crawley turns to Lady Mary and they have a brief conversation before Strutt calls him away. Emma watches them intently.

Sybil and Lady Edith join the queue after Thomas and Clarkson. Emma watches Thomas with Clarkson suspiciously. Has Miss O'Brien gotten him to help with making sure that Lady Grantham comes on top with the running of Downton?

Lady Mary and Miss Swire linger with Lady Rosamund who gives Lady Mary a significant look, then smiles at Miss Swire before heading into the house. The nurses follow her but Emma looks back at Lady Mary to see that she is uncomfortable. What was that all about?

——

Emma does not need to go around with the general, only be there to greet him, so she goes off on her rounds for the officers. She is glad she has this to distract from the fact that William, who had come to visit, would be heading off to the front tomorrow.

Emma is in the Ward talking with Lord Grantham and Lieutenant Shirley as Captain Crawley explains the room to the general and as the general looks around.

"And are you being cared for well?" His Lordship asks.

"Yes, My Lord." The Lieutenant answers. "Nurse Byrne here has been incredibly helpful."

"Well, it is handy when they're being receptive to the help." She remarks.

"Quite." Lord Grantham says.

"This is all very impressive, Lady Grantham." Emma hears Strutt say. "The nurses and your own staff are to be congratulated."

"I believe they are." Her Ladyship replies.

——

Emma pops downstairs for a quick drink of water before going back up when Anna goes running past the Kitchen and into Mrs Hughes' Sitting room.

Emma goes to the room and hears Anna ask, "Where's Mr Branson?"

"He's just taken up the soup, why?" Mrs Hughes replies.

Anna shows Mrs Hughes the note. "I found this in Emma and Gemma's room. Read it."

Was the letter for Emma? She watches from the door curious about what it says.

""They'll have arrested me by now, but I'm not sorry. The bastard had it coming to him"?" Mrs Hughes's jaw drops. "Oh!"

"What?!" Emma exclaims, drawing their attention. He wouldn't. Would he? "We need to stop him."

The three of them run to Mr Carson who's in the Antechamber blocked off from the Dining room by a divider.

"What in God's name?" He whispers.

"Read this! Where is he now?" Mrs Hughes whisper demands.

Mr Carson reads it. "Oh, my God."

Emma watches from behind the divider as Mr Carson and Anna cross the room to him just as Mr Branson is about to pull the lid off of the soup. Mr Carson clamps his hand down over Mr Branson's, so he can't open it.

Mr Branson struggles for a minute, then looks behind him to where she's standing. They stare at each other for a moment and he eventually lets Mr Carson escort him out. Anna follows them with the soup tray.

Emma has gotten back down to the Kitchen when Mr Carson drags him downstairs.

"All right! All right! There's no need to be so rough!" Mr Branson yells.

Mr Carson shoves him into the Kitchen. "There's every need! To stop a murder!"

"Murder? What do you mean "murder"?" Mr Branson exclaims in anger.

"You were going to assassinate the general!" Anna accuses.

Mr Branson looks at them in disbelief. "Kill the general?! I was not!" Emma looks down ashamed that she'd thought he would for a moment.

Anna lifts the lid on the soup and they all gag.

"I was going to throw that lot all over him." Mr Branson explains.

"What is it?" Emma asks him through a grimace.

"Oil and ink and a bit of a cow pie, all mixed with sour milk. He'd have needed a bath, right enough, but not a coffin!" Mrs Patmore turns her head away as she pours it down the sink.

"I thought you'd taken the soup up, but you left it in the Pantry." Daisy realises.

Mrs Hughes grabs a copper pot from the shelf. "We'll use this. It's not been heated, but the hell with that! And we'll decide what happens to you later."

"Never mind later, what about now? How do we keep this dinner going?" Mr Carson demands.

"I'll serve, Mr Carson." Emma turns to see William dressed up in his uniform. "I don't mind. Who knows when I'll have the chance again?"

——

"Where is Mr Branson?" Ethel asks as they settle down to eat. Although the nurses had their set times for eating and in the Great Hall, Emma prefers eating with the lot downstairs.

"Mr Carson sent him back to his cottage to stew in his own juice," Gemma replies.

"Will we see you in the morning, William? To wish you luck?" Anna asks him as he enters and stands by Daisy.

"Oh, yes. But I've got something I'd like to say now." William takes Daisy's hand. "If you don't mind."

"Don't, not yet," Daisy says.

"They must know sooner or later. Daisy and I are going to be married." William announces. Emma gapes in surprise; she wouldn't have expected Daisy to want to marry him.

"You never are! When?!" Ethel exclaims gleefully.

"After the war." Daisy answers

"I'm not sure I can wait that long," William says.

Emma notices Daisy looking worriedly at Mrs Patmore. What's going on there?

——

One success of the day, though it depends on who you ask, Major Clarkson assigned Mrs Crawley and Lady Grantham to share the responsibility of running Downton when Clarkson isn't here.

What has become clear is that Mr Lang is struggling too much with the visit and the house becoming a Convalescence home. It seems he'll be leaving.

What makes Emma particularly pleased is that Lady Edith received full praise for her work on dealing with the patients' daily care and needs so efficiently.

——

A/N: Billy Prior is roughly supposed to be Billy Prior from Pat Barker's Regeneration Trilogy of novels set during World War I. What is done with the character is mostly my own stuff and not much from the actual books.

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[dumbwa-sian]

November 6th

These days I don't feel okay, too much has happened and it's making me crazy. we broke up and now it's weird. I never wanted to make the friend group choose sides or have a rift between us. I even told you if being with you was going to cause a rift in our friendship then I don't want to be with you. I would rather have only ever been friends from the start.

Now I'm feeling some type of way and trying to navigate my own feelings and mental health. I don't know what to do and I feel like I've hit a road block. But I really am trying to fix myself and everything but it feels like my friends- our friends are picking sides and their picking yours. This was the last thing I wanted.

I never and still don't want anyone to pick sides. But I no longer feel safe telling them how I feel or allowing myself to feel any emotion around them, in fear that they'll continue to berate and get angry at my own feelings. Like I said I am trying my absolute best everyday to try and control said emotions.

But as anyone will tell you, bottling your emotions are unhealthy and often leads to you exploding. So of course I try to let go of these emotions healthily but I don't know how to do that right now, but I am still trying everyday to find the best solution. Right now I need my friends and people who love me around me, just to listen, let me cry and be angry and laugh by my side, to be patient and just show me love. But like I said, our friends are picking sides and they picked yours.

I no longer feel safe with my friends.

For the first time in a very long time, I really feel alone. All I have is my best friend from childhood who I can truly rely on and call whenever I want/need. In my world, it's just the two of us who I can depend on. I don't have any other true friends or people I can openly talk to and let my feelings out too, free of judgement. Maybe thats why I've been drinking so much.

I've said it before but the emotional pain of losing everyone and having my world crumble is something I can handle. I've done it before and I can do it again. But the problem lies in the physical manifestations of these feelings. Feeling so sick I get horrible nausea, being unable to eat/eating too much, not being able to leave my bed etc. These are the things I can't handle and affect my everyday/professional life. I don't know what to do with these emotions.

What's worse is that I have to figure it all out alone, since I no longer have friends.

I could make new friends but I

Hate people

Am so scared they'll be like everyone else and leave

tired

I am perfectly happy being alone for the rest of my life with no friends and only having superficial connections for work, especially if it means I no longer have to get hurt. I don't think I can handle thinking I have real friends and having them disappear/betray me over and over again anymore. I don't have anyone in my corner and I am losing my shit.

The only thing keeping me sane these days is listening to Christmas music and burying myself in work or being distracted with literally anything else.

I guess I just hope one day I can have REAL friends who'll back me up, but I doubt it'll happen for me and who knows if I can make it. For now I'll post my troubles on the internet, hopefully someone reads this and doesn't feel alone. Cause lord knows I am.

[mayumiiyuu]

iv. normalcy.

the kaleidoscope project masterlist

July, 1979, Hawkins, Indiana

It had been month or so since I had been placed under foster care. Dr. Willows always kept her promise, visiting me around twice every week. I felt more comfortable with her now, slowly but surely trusting her. Still, I never told her much about myself, just aspects I thought would be relevant to her as an act of self preservation; just because I was starting to trust her didn't mean I had to let go of all my reservations. I was still most likely a wanted person. So I tried my best to blend in, keep my abilities to myself. I told not a soul, shut my eyes whenever I felt my emotions trigger some sort of reaction, stayed on the sidelines while the others played and made lively conversation; afraid that if I had made the wrong move, let myself go, that my emotions would take charge and my powers would spin out of control. 

I spent most of my days drawing, reading the books Dr. Willows would let me borrow from her.

"This one has to be my favorite," she places a thick book on the table, its cover as worn as the pages within, but the title remained in tact: The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. "I used to stay up late at night reading it, I think you'll find the world here fascinating." 

I skim through the pages, my eyes widening slightly with just how many chapters there were. "This seems..long."

She throws her head back slightly, laughing. "Yes, it is, to top it off there are two more after that."

I looked at her incredulously, my eyebrows raised. "Two? Are they just as long?"

She nods her head. "About the same length, yes, but hey, it'll be sure to keep you busy. Maybe you can draw the characters, sketch out what you envision them to look like."

I did just that after finishing the book in a week, unable to put it down as I was immersed in stories of hobbits, elves, wizards, and magic; a realm like no other with its own unique kingdoms and lands with sprawling forests and other fantastical creatures. 

The next time we had met I had shown her drawings of Rivendell as I had imagined it, with its crashing waterfalls and flowing rivers, along with a sketch of what Galadriel looked like, the Lady of the Light in all her elegance and ethereal beauty.

"These are amazing, Scar," she beamed at me. "This is exactly what I imagined when I read the book!"

I felt my cheeks warm from her words, shifting awkwardly in my seat, not used to such praise outside of my abilities, never having been complimented for something that didn't serve purpose to others.

"By the way," she places the sketchbook down on the table between us. "Do you know when you'll be going to school?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "School?"

"I'm sure that you've been enrolled somewhere by now, haven't you?"

"Not that I know of.." I mumble, picking at my lower lip nervously. I hadn't even considered that, of course most of the children in the outside world went to school, my only education had been by our Teacher, provided to us by the lab. Would going to someplace as public as that even be safe? Did I even have any documents for me to be able to be enrolled in a school?

"I'm sure they'll handle it," she glances around, biting her lip as if in deep thought. "Scarlet, tell me: has anyone visited you apart from me? Met you, inquired about maybe fostering you?"

I shake my head. I had seen other people come in to meet the younger kids, always the younger ones. I noticed how the older kids looked on with jealousy, whispering amongst themselves, making bets on who'll get into a foster home first. There were a few who were my age that had left, some returned, and those who didn't were gossiped about.

"I heard Hannah was adopted by her foster family." One of the others had said during lunch, picking at his food as he spoke.

"Lucky." Came the reply of another who leaned their head on the table.

The best thing about being quiet and keeping to yourself meant that people hardly noticed you, it was as if I was under my own invisibility spell; unaware that despite how my eyes were glued to the book I read, I was still very much there, listening and observing.

Dr. Willows, or Irene, as she had asked me to call her at one point, sighed, smoothening out her dress.

"How—how would you feel if I told you I wanted to foster you?"

Her question takes me aback, my eyelids blinking rapidly, I tuck my hands under my thighs, briefly looking away from her as I felt the familiar tingle in my eyes. My heartbeat sped up, whether it was from nervousness or excitement, I didn't know.

"I.." I start, taking in a breath to still my pulsating heart before I turned to look at her, still on edge but calmer than before. "I don't know."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to spring onto you with a question like that, but I just thought, maybe I could give you more opportunities, a better life—not to say that living here is a bad thing! It's just, I'm not sure if it's the best environment for you to grow up in, constantly having to see people come and go from your life, switching from family to family, not really having a home, not yet at least. But that's what I want to give you—a, a home, someplace where you feel safe from the craziness of life." She chuckled as she saw my confused face, she had been talking as fast as a mile a minute.

"Sorry, sorry, I was rambling. Bad habit of mine, I guess," she inhales then exhales slowly, as if to relax her mind in order to find the right words. I smile, I know exactly what that was like. "I could foster you for a while, then it'll be up to you if you want to make that arrangement permanent, for me to uh, adopt you? Yes, that's usually how the process for these sort of things goes. I didn't want for you to randomly get a call from the administrator, take you by surprise, I wanted to tell you first, to make sure you were comfortable with that. Is..is that okay with you?"

I look to the floor, deep in thought. Irene had shown me the most genuine kindness I had ever experienced in my life, never expecting anything in return. She took her time to understand me, she was always gentle and patient with me the moment we first met. Her compassion was almost overwhelming, with how she constantly visited me, made sure I was doing alright, indulged in my interests and newfound hobbies, kept me in her thoughts throughout the day as she saved fun stories for her to tell me. Since that day I first showed her my drawing of Frankenstein, we had grown considerably close. Although I was still hesitant, still guarded, I had always thought about finally letting my guard down around her, not to be suspicious of any ulterior motives from her, because so far she gave me no reason to doubt her.

I hope she doesn't ever give me a reason to.

After a while of scanning my thoughts, I opened my mouth to speak.

"I think I'd like that."

Irene exhales, as if she had been holding her breath for my answer.

"Okay," she nods, smiling. 

....

I was surprised with how, in a span of barely a week, I had been placed under the care of Irene, despite having been told that it could take some time before I found a family to foster me. 

I heard my roommates whispering to themselves the night before I had left, thinking I was sleeping underneath the covers.

"Can't believe she's already got a foster family for her so soon." Came the grumbling tone of a girl.

"Heard that she's being fostered by that lady that always comes to visit her." Piped another.

"You think she might be a relative or something?"

As I peek from my blanket, I see the third girl shake her head, the same girl who had given me a snarky remark when I first came here.

"No, don't think so. Anyway, how long do you guys bet it'll take for her to get back here?"

"A week." Another girl snorts.

"I say three days." The snarky girl giggles, the other following along.

I toss over in my bed, turning around so my back faced them, burying my face in my pillow. The light from the bedside table flickered as I grit my teeth, sucking in a breath while I clenched my hands into fists. My eyes clamped shut as I willed myself to drift into dreamless sleep.

"Scarlet? Are you alright?" 

I tear my gaze from the window, blinking rapidly as I snapped myself out of my thoughts. 

"Sorry, I'm okay, thank you."

Irene smiles at me as she gently touches my shoulder. 

"It's okay if you feel nervous about this, it's normal, but I promise you that I'll make you as comfortable as I can—say the word and I'll be there, 'kay?" 

I nod my head, negative thoughts dissipating with her reassurance. Eventually, we pull up to a drive way, parking in front of a house that was painted a soft, mossy green. The lawn in front was dotted with flowers, the white porch was lined with bushes and an array of flowerbeds. It looked homely, hospitable and welcoming as it bathed in the afternoon sun.

Irene helped me gather my things, even when I told her didn't need her help with how light my bag was. As we walked closer I noticed that the front door was painted crimson red with a diamond shaped window on it. Memories of the lab replayed in my mind, causing me to flex my hand involuntarily.

As she opened the door to let me in, the inside seemed just as cozy as I had expected it to be, the smell of cedar hitting my nose as I walked into the small foyer.

I was given a small tour of the house, the living room was quaint, a brick fireplace sat on one side of the room, I noticed she didn't have a television, but guessed her main form of entertainment must be the immense collection of books that sat atop the large shelves that took up most of the wall space. Wherever there weren't any books there were trinkets and small potted plants. There was one short shelf pushed against the wall, containing various disks of vinyls, a record player painted green was placed atop it. Seems like someone had a favorite color.

Back in the hallway, she led me towards the kitchen that opened out into the humble dining room, a vase of flowers adorning the dark stained table. I especially liked the fridge she had, various pictures and postcards hung on its door with magnets that I assumed she had taken as souvenirs from her travels, observing that some of them had names of various places.

Finally, she led me to my room. Of all the other rooms in the house, this felt the coziest. The walls were painted a creamy white, the bed was pushed to one side of the room towards a window so I could peek out of it to see the sprawling garden at the back. A wooden chest sat at the foot of it, delicately carved with elegant patterns of vines and blooming flowers. A desk was placed on the left side of the room, underneath another window, already stacked with various notebooks, decorated with various cups and containers filled with colored pencils and paintbrushes, a small colorful box set in the middle of it. Right beside the desk stood a bookshelf, again, already lined with various books, decorated with ceramic figures of birds and fairytale creatures.

I gazed at the room with wonder, my mouth ajar. All the rooms I had ever had were always bare, meant to be a place for me to sleep and only that. But this room felt different somehow, it felt comfy and cozy, a stark contrast to the concrete walls and the utter bareness of my previous ones.

"You can decorate it however you want, we can paint it a different color too, if you'd like," Irene smiles as she leans on the doorway, before walking her way towards the shelf, gesturing to all the books within it as she spoke. "All these books are yours now, some of them were ones I've had since high school, so I hope you don't mind that they're a little worn."

She hands me one of the books, Little Women, bound in green leather, I let my thumbs trace over the gold lettering of the title, admiring the small illustration of four girls huddled together, walking side by side with their backs turned.

"My grandmother gave me this book, one of the oldest I've got, actually. Some of the margins have writings in them, annotations by her."

I cock my head to the side. "Annotations?"

"Think of it as adding your own thoughts to the story, what you observed and how you feel about the passage."

Nodding, my eyes trail over towards the various trinkets on the shelf, fixating on one made of porcelain, a delicate unicorn with its head gently tucked to its side, greeting a rabbit with its nose.

"I'll let you get settled," Irene says, shoving her hands in her cardigan's pockets. "Call me if you need anything, feel free to explore the house too, if you want."

She slipped out of the door, flashing me one more warm smile before shutting it gently.

Left alone to my own devices, I sat on the bed. My eyes widen with surprise at the softness of the mattress, running my hands along the crocheted blanket thrown over it. I bounced on the bed a bit, still sitting down, giggling as I did so. 

My eyes soon landed on the desk, curiosity taking over me as I remembered the colorful box that sat atop it.

Shuffling towards the desk, I lifted the lid off of the box, revealing a set of paints and what seemed to be crayons, one set that felt oily, the other one more dry and dusty.

I wasn't quite in the mood to draw or paint anything just yet, so I decided to read the book she had handed me for inspiration, but before I did so, I opened the window, a soft summer breeze flitting through the air. I propped a pillow up against the window as I plopped down onto the bed and began to read.

Before I knew it, dusk came rolling in, daylight fading away as the sky turned into various shades of orange and then a purplish blue. Just as I had gotten up to turn on the lamp at my bedside table, I heard a knock at my door.

"Yes?" I called out.

Irene opened the door, poking her head through the gap. "Dinner's ready!"

As we sat at the dinner table, despite having no clue on what the dish was, I couldn't help my mouth as it watered at the inviting smell of the food she had placed before me. I swallowed, eyeing Irene for a second so I could copy her mannerisms, how one was supposed to eat this food.

She notices my stare and chuckles. "Go on, dig in, it's spaghetti."

"Spaghetti." I repeated, watching how she twirled her fork so that the noodles wrapped around it, I quickly follow her lead. As soon as it enters my mouth, flavors I had never even thought were real exploded on my tongue. Savory, herby, slightly sour, I tried to make out each taste, eventually disregarding that as I began to eat voraciously.

"Do you like it?" She asks, wiping the sauce on her mouth with a napkin.

I nod my head frantically, chewing quickly and swallowing so I could compliment here. "It's really really good. I've..I've never had anything like this before."

"I'd be glad to introduce you to new foods then," she cocks an eyebrows at me. "Have you ever had a cheeseburger before?"

"No? What's that?"

Her eyes widen. "Okay, that's it, first thing tomorrow, as soon as I'm free, I'm taking you to town to my favorite diner. They've got all sorts of food, they even have cheeseburgers with bacon, and the best chocolate milkshake in Hawkins!"

I shut my eyes as I felt them sparkle with excitement, breathing out through my nose to pacify my sudden burst of emotion. Once I open them again, I grin at her. "I'd like that."

"Oh, and if you want I can teach you how to cook—you look like you're old enough to handle being in a kitchen, I think," she paused, furrowing her eyebrows. "How old are you again?"

Panicked, I tried to rack my brain for answers, an excuse, if I told her I didn't know that would have been strange, but I remember one of the social workers' discussions about me.

'I don't know, she looks around 10-12 years old.'

"I'm 11." I blurted out.

"Oh, do you know when your birthday is?"

"Um," I furrow my eyebrows, rubbing my forehead as I did so to feign a headache. "I don't know, no one ever told me, I've never celebrated it."

She leans forward, putting her fork down. "No one's ever celebrated your birthday with you? Not even when you were little?"

I shake my head. "I don't remember."

"Well," she starts, poking at her food. "How about we pretend it's your birthday tomorrow? We can do whatever you want, I can even give you little gift and a cake, we can blow out your candles and you can make a wish! Sound good?"

I smile, genuinely, wholly, and truly happy, I look down, making sure she didn't see the way my eyes flickered, placed my hands on my lap under the table as they twitched with energy.

"Yes, sounds good."

....

The next day, we rode into town, I couldn't count how many times I had to close my eyes and even my breathing to calm myself down. I practically plastered my head to the passenger door window as I observed the buildings downtown, the various shops that lined the streets and the people who went about their day.

Irene had to help me out of the seatbelt, both of us giggling at how I couldn't figure out how to unbuckle myself due to my excitement. As we strolled down the streets, I felt a sudden timidness take over me as we walked past people, instinctively taking hold of Irene's skirt while my eyes scanned over them curiously. Some of them gave me strange looks, while other smiles and waved.

She took me shopping for clothes first, letting me pick out whatever I wanted. Finding nothing but basic articles of clothing in one shop, she led me elsewhere.

"There's a shop I like to go to, my favorite one, best thing about them is all of their earnings go back to charity." She stated as she pushed the glass doors open. I looked at the shop with wonder, aisles of clothing hung on racks, sparking my curiosity at the different materials they were made from.

I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to keep them from twinkling red as I saw an article of clothing that caught my interest.

Following my gaze, Irene nudges me with a smile. "You like that? Go on, get it, show it to me." 

I run over to fetch it, admiring its bold red color. It was a leather jacket with silver embellishments, it's size most definitely didn't fit me as it was fairly large on my frame when I put it on, bashfully walking back to Irene.

But she doesn't poke fun at me, doesn't laugh and tell me to put it back. She just smiles. "If you like it we can get it."

"I like it, it looks.." I pause, struggling to find the right word.

"Cool." She finishes my sentence with a nod.

"Yeah, cool!" I exclaim, loving how the word sounded, how it rolled off my tongue.

After that, we passed by a couple of bookshops, picking up a few books that interested me. She led me towards a bakery where she let me pick my own cake, I tapped my finger on the glass at  a white frosted cake decorated with colorful sprinkles. Through it all, I felt completely at ease with her, knowing now that she never had any ulterior motives, all she wanted was to see me happy, to care for me. She didn't know about my powers, she took care of me because she wanted to, gave me gifts because she said I deserved it.

We enter a shop filled with a myriad of instruments, not because I knew how to play, I didn't know anything about music, having only ever listened to it recently as she played cassette tapes in the car, I admired the melody of her voice as she hummed along to the songs. I knew them and there I wanted to listen to more music now.

I stared around curiously, brushing my hands over the strings of an instrument with a long handle and a rounded end. I read the label, cocking my head at the name of it. "A banjo?" I whispered.

"No hate to you if you’re into that kind of music, but that one over there's sure to make better sound."

I spun around, only to be greeted by a boy around my age, with short, buzzed hair and a toothy grin.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He raises his hands in surrender. I can't help but furrow my brows at him, searching my thoughts, my memories as I had felt I had seen him before.

"I'm Eddie, by the way." He holds a hand out in front of me, a handshake.

"Hi." I mutter, shaking it cautiously.

"You have any music you like?"

I shake my head, to which he widens his eyes at.

"Really? Come on, everyone's got some sort of favorite song or something."

I stammer, trying to find the right words to say. "I've only gotten interested in music just recently, so.." I fidgeted with my fingers, averting my gaze shyly.

"I've got a few bands in mind if you wanna listen to 'em." He offers with a shrug.

"I, um, bands?" Out of the corner of my eye I see Irene approaching me.

"Hey, Scar," her gaze turns to Eddie. "Who's this? Your friend?"

I glance at him, unsure, but he only grins at me.

"Yeah, we can be friends if you want."

"Sure.." I trail off, shuffling my feet.

"Okay, well, I'm sorry to cut in but I'm feeling a bit hungry, how about you?" Irene turns to look at me, placing a hand at my back.

"Yes, I'm hungry too. Let's go." I grab her hand and rush out the door.

"Wait, I never got to know your—" the door shuts behind us, I glance back at him one more time, guilt we sighing on my stomach as I see his dejected face. I furrow my eyebrows as I closed my eyes, scolding myself in my head for how flustered I had reacted. 

Eventually, Irene and I were sat at a booth in the diner, looking over the menu. A waitress walks towards us, a notepad in hand as she reaches for the pen tucked upon her ear.

"Two cheeseburgers and two chocolate milkshakes please." Irene says before she looks at me.

"You're going to love the food here, I promise."

I grin at her. "Don't worry, I believe you."

She chuckles before she catches something from her peripheral vision, a woman had just walked in along with two boys, one looked to be younger than me while the other looked to be around my age.

"Joyce!" Irene exclaims as she stands to greet them, while I sit by and watch.

"Irene? Hey! Fancy seeing you here." The woman, Joyce, replies as they engulf each other in a hug.

"You remember Will and Jonathan, don't you?" She gestures towards the two boys who give Irene a shy wave.

"Of course I do! My goodness, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you." Irene chuckles. Joyce's eyes find mine, I responded by looking down, pretending to read the menu.

"And who's this lovely girl with you?" She smiles at me kindly.

Irene glances at me. "Oh, this is Scarlet, well, um, that's what we call her, it's a nickname really," she chuckles, and I do too, quietly as I heard her ramble. "I uh, just started fostering her recently."

"That great, 'Rene," Joyce lowers her voice, but I lean my head ever so slightly to listen. I'm an eavesdropper, sue me. "I know how long you've been wanting to adopt since.."

Irene shakes her head. "I know, but it's fine, baby steps, right? Besides, she's been with me less than a day, I don't wanna take it too fast. Gotta let her adjust," she looks back at me, her gaze softening. "But yeah, she's a great kid."

"I can tell." Joyce nods, squeezing Irene's hand comfortingly.

"Actually, we're celebrating her birthday today, she's never really uh, celebrated it, so I thought maybe you all would like to join?" Irene steps towards me, kneeling down to my level. "How about it, Scar? You wanna have guests to your birthday party? It's okay if you don't want to." She rubs my shoulder reassuringly as I look towards the family. If Irene trusted them, I figured I could too. I push away any doubts that swirled around my mind, any weariness and hesitations before I nodded, a smile on my face. 

"Sure."

Soon, we were all sat on the table, me and Will sat in the booth together while Joyce and Irene sat in front of us. Jonathan settled on a chair on the side, since the shopping bags from earlier took up most of the space on the booth.

While we waited for our food, Joyce had given Will a small box of crayons and a few scraps of paper from her bag. Noticing my gaze on him as he drew, Joyce spoke.

"You wanna color too, sweetheart? I'm sure Will wouldn't mind sharing."

I shake my head. "It's alright, I can watch."

Will nudges the box of crayons towards me, sliding a scrap of paper my way as well.

"It's okay," he insists. "I'll share, we can draw together."

I small smile creeps it's way on my face as I take a crayon. "Thank you."

Shortly after that, we were both conversing, Jonathan piping up now and again with his own comments as we both drew and compared our drawings. I pointed to his paper. 

"What's that?"

"It's a spaceship." He grins, holding it up to let me see it better. 

"A spaceship?"

"Yeah, it's for astronauts and stuff—and look! They're fighting aliens." 

I nod my head. "Why? What did the aliens do to them?"

He continued to explain his drawings to me, and soon I became entranced with the way his mind worked, how easily he could weave stories from his imagination. I admired his creativity. I used to think I could only draw inspiration from books, that those were the only stories worth telling, but as I listened to him, I discovered there was more to it than that, that I could create my own stories and characters.

The food had arrived, and Irene was right, not that I ever doubted her, I finished the burger in a matter of minutes, relishing in the juiciness of the meat and the taste of cheese. I sipped on my milkshake eagerly, the taste of it reminded me of the chocolate truffles I used to be given by Dr. Peters, but that memory seemed so far away now as I was surrounded by people who were kind to me, not a hint of malice behind their words.

For the first time in my life, I was having fun, carefree, serene fun, without a worry in the world. In that moment, none of my past memories came to haunt me, no thoughts of scientists and doctors jabbing needles into my skin flooded my mind. 

As I readied to blow out my candles, they all sang to me, clapping their hands along to the rhythm, no matter how out of tune they may have been, I laughed giddily as I closed my eyes to make a wish. As soon as the candles were blown out they cheered for me, giving me their best wishes. Irene reached her hand towards mine, I don't flinch or pull my hand away as she holds it, thumb gently stroking mine in affection as she whispered a small 'happy birthday' to me.

That night as we returned home, Irene tucked me in, and I slept the most peacefully I ever had, dreaming of happy things and fun filled adventures with my new friends; my real friends, not people who wanted to use me for their own selfish desires.

I was happy, and I never wanted to let that feeling go.

....

December, 1979, Hawkins, Indiana

Despite being of age to enter school, I had been assessed by social workers and they determined I needed to meet certain requirements in order to enroll, having never been in an educational institution in the past. Their solution was to provide me a tutor in order to complete the requirements. I picked up most of the subjects easily, apart from math and science. Although I had been educated by the Teacher provided for us by the lab, they had only taught us the basics, such as reading, writing, and simple math, only ever going in depth in foreign languages. 

Irene was with me every step of the way, comforting me and encouraging me whenever I flunked a test, praising me whenever I got a good grade, and helping me figure out my homework when I didn't understand it.

One night, we sat at the dinner table. It was my first time helping her out in the kitchen, she remained patient with me as she showed me how to carefully use a knife to cut vegetables, and eventually we had both made the most delicious soup I'd ever tasted.

"Scarlet, I was thinking," she started, swirling her spoon around in the bowl. "Would..would you like it if I adopted you?"

I almost choke on my soup in surprise as she said so, coughing furiously. Irene was quick to be at my side, patting my back gently while she filled my glass with water.

"Sorry, sorry, shouldn't have dropped it on you like that, should've eased in slowly, but I mean, if you don't want to I completely understand, which is why I wanted to ask you, but not like that, definitely not—"

"Irene," I said with a chuckle as I wiped water from my mouth. 

"Yes? Oh sorry, I was rambling again, wasn't I?" She laughs at herself, shaking her head as she hid her face in her hands.

"Yeah, you were," I laugh along with her before clearing my throat. "But, to answer your question..yes, yes, I'd love that. I'd really, really love that." 

Her eyes widen at my words as a grin spreads on her lips, I see her eyes grow glossy as they started to water.

"You mean it?" She says, lowering her voice. "You—you'd like for, for me to be your mom?" The volume of her voice trailed off until it was above a whisper.

I nod my head, closing my eyes as I felt my own eyes prick with tears, happy ones. Because finally, finally I could have a home, a permanent one, with someone who took care of me and was truly concerned with my well-being. 

"Yes." I reply with a small chuckle. 

She lets out a breath as she reaches in to hug me. In spite of having lived with her for so long, we had never been this close, most of our forms of affection had been small; holding her hand while we passed through crowded areas, leaning my head on her shoulder as I yawned when we would read together, her rubbing circles into my back to comfort me. It was strange, not in a bad way, the complete opposite, it was the most comforting feeling in the world to me, being wrapped securely in her arms in a loving embrace. 

I nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck. I felt safe with her, the house we lived in wasn't just a space to me anymore, a roof to have over my head to keep me from the elements. It was a home. Somewhere I could always return to for comfort, not someplace I was shackled to, forcibly trapped in. She let me make my choices, she guided me along the way, never explicitly telling me what to do or what to choose, she left that entirely up to me. I had never felt so free before.

Colors weren't meant to form any attachments. We were trained for war and dutifully stuck to our purpose that would be dictated to us by whoever would own us. We weren't meant to have a family or friends. We had been taught to keep our guards up and to keep our distance.

But as she held me in her arms, so lovingly and affectionately, I let what they had etched into my brain fade away, unscrambling the neurons in my brain to forget them, to throw them out the window and never let them come back.

Despite what I had been taught, I had become attached to the normalcy I had begun to be accustomed to, letting myself pretend that I was just like everyone around me, no powers, no dark past, not some runaway escapee.

I let myself be me as a I found myself, and Irene had continuously loved me through it all.

And that was all I ever needed.

....

"Scarlet!" Came Irene's distant voice.

"Coming!" I replied, swirling my paintbrush in water to clean it before I raced out of my door and entered the kitchen, where I found Irene hunched over a few documents concerning my adoption.

She smiles as she looked up at me, gesturing for me to take a seat, so I pulled out the chair beside her, plopping down.

"Yes?"

"I was thinking," she drums the pen in her hand against the table. "Since we'll be changing your last name to mine, what do you think about changing your first name? Should we leave it as Scarlet, or would you like to switch to something else?"

I propped my elbow on the table, resting my chin on my knuckle as my tongue slightly poked out of my mouth, deep in thought.

"I wanted your input, since you told me that Scarlet was only your nickname and all," she glanced at the papers before she looked at me. "Maybe you'd like a different name, to mark a new start in your life, or not, it's up to you, you can even pick your name if you want, but I've gotta say, I have a few ones in mind."

I chuckle, easing an eyebrow at her. "Can I maybe hear this list of names?"

"Okay well first of all I thought about Rose, since your nickname is Scarlet I thought it'd pay a nice homage, then I realized that was the name of that creepy lady who worked the cash register who kept accusing you of stealing," we both guffawed as we remembered that strange incident. "And then of course there's Arwen, because who wouldn't want to be her? And Galadriel, Amy, Elizabeth, and Lessa."

I giggled as she mentioned my favorite heroines and badass female characters from the books I read.

"But you know, it's always up to you." 

I fidget with my fingers as my hands fall to my lap, closing my eyes as I felt whispers and muffled voices, distant memories swirl around my mind.

"Please, give her back! No— (Y/N)!" A woman's voice screams.

"Sleep, little (Y/N), on the tree top, when the wind blows the cradle will rock." Came a soothing, gentle voice as it hummed a lullaby.

I opened my eyes, having made my decision.

"I want to be called (Y/N)."

....

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @justaproudlslytherpuff @iiheartbowie @beebeerockknot @nightless @lovelydivs @r-royce

[wastelesscrafts]

How to get a wardrobe you actually wear

Let's start with the basics before starting any projects! If you've never done a thorough decluttering before, I bet you've got a lot of pieces in your wardrobe you never wear. Let's see if we can fix that.

Go to your wardrobe. Divide it up in whatever categories work for you so you don't have to do everything at once (e.g. winter/summer or tops/bottoms/underwear/accessories).

Try everything on. Is the size right for you? How's the fit? Do you like how it looks on you? Can you combine it into an outfit? Does it need mending? Is it easy to wash? Be realistic when you make your choices.

Make three piles: yes, no, and maybe.

Yes: this is where all the clothes go that you definitely want to keep.

No: these are the items you definitely want to get rid off.

Maybe: this pile is for items you're still undecided about.

Let's go through our piles!

The yes pile:

This pile will be the basis of your wardrobe!

- Ask yourself why you like these items so much. Are there design details they all share? A specific cut that looks really good on you, fun prints, lots of lace or frills or maybe the opposite: simple and no-nonsense,... Once you've figured out what elements they share, you've figured out the basics of what styles you enjoy wearing. Look for these same elements when getting new clothes. You'll be more likely to wear them, and it'll be easier to integrate them into your existing wardrobe because they'll match more things.

- Go through the tags and write down what fabrics your items are made of. If one of them pops up a lot, you probably like it a great deal. That means you'll get more wear out of items made of that same fabric when you need to get new ones.

- Don't apply wishful thinking to this pile. Keeping items as weight aspirations, or items that give you sensory overload, is bad for your mental health. You deserve clothes that fit you.

- You don't need to end up with a capsule wardrobe or a natural fibres-only pile. Don't throw things out that you actually wear just because they don't fit a zero waste aesthetic. We're trying to avoid sending things to landfill. It's better to wear your polyester until it breaks down than to just throw it out and replace it with a sustainable option.

- Is there anything in this pile that needs mending, modding, or washing? Put it aside for when you have the time to do so. Put the rest back into your closet.

The no pile:

There's a multitude of things you could do with items in this pile:

- Don't throw anything away. It'll go to landfill where it will either break down into microplastics if it contains polyester, or release methane if it's a natural fibre because it'll likely be left to decompose in an anaerobic environment. That's bad.

- Trade in your clothes at a shop if you need items that are hard to find and if you're strapped for cash. Some fast fashion brands will give you a coupon for it. Try to avoid doing this if you can because your clothes will either be ripped up for rags or sold in bulk in questionable circumstances. You'll also be spending your coupon supporting a fast fashion chain. But honestly: sometimes you just need to survive and that's fine. Pragmatism is important.

- Swap clothes with friends! Hold a swap meet and let people pick out what they like. You can do the same to their "no" pile. It's fun. :)

- Donate your clothes to a reputable charity.

- Freecycle: check if you've got an online freecycle group nearby, and give your items away to someone who'll actually use them. You'll frequently find groups like these on Facebook and such.

- Sell your clothes. Check if your town has consignment shops, or download apps like Vinted, Poshmark, or Depop.

- Is everything still in great condition? Check with friends if anyone knows someone who's starting over, or transitioning and looking to redo their wardrobe, or whatever other reasons someone may need a bunch of new clothes.

- Put your clothes aside as raw material for future crafts or mends. This is especially great for items that aren't good enough to wear anymore, or anything that has nice notions like buttons or lace.

- Use the item as cleaning rags. You've got to clean with something, after all!

- If your item is made of 100% natural materials such as cotton or linen, you can also compost it. This way, it'll break down in aerobic circumstances and produce compost for your garden instead of releasing methane.

The maybe pile:

Why are these items in the maybe pile?

- If anything needs mending, put it aside for a later time.

- Is it the wrong size? Either put it aside to mod it later, or take it to a tailor. If you can't change it to your size, put it in the no pile. You deserve clothes that fit you, not the other way around!

- Does it have emotional value? Find a way to pack it up and store it with other items of emotional value. It's okay, I promise. You'll regret getting rid of it.

- It fits well, but maybe it's not your style or you don't like the material. Put it aside. You can either modify it to match your style better, or use it as a starting point to draft your own sewing pattern. There's plenty of options to modify something: lace, beads, embroidery, patches, cutting it up, lengthening or shortening it, dyeing,...

- You don't know what to combine it with? Grab your yes pile and spend some time trying to come up with outfits with it. Found a combo you love? Put it on the yes pile. No such luck? Put it on the no pile.

Conclusion:

These steps should leave you with a wardrobe you actually wear.

Have fun with your clothes! Try to come up with multiple uses for one item. And don't forget: it's yours! You can do with it as you please! There's no rules against cutting it up or sewing on beads or whatever strikes your fancy. If it makes you more likely to wear it, then go for it!

Need motivation to get started? Check out Leena Norms' wardrobe declutter on YouTube.

[raphael-angele]

I feel angsty again

Damian being $u!©ida| Headcanons

Damian gets kidnapped while in civ mode but he's in that state of mind. Kidnapper's about to call in a ransom and Damian (in a drugged state) starts to rant but doesn't realize his comms are on.

Damian: It's not gonna work.

Kidnapper: Shut up. *About to call*

Damian: Who are you gonna call? GCPD? Sure, maybe they'll care...maybe...

Kidnapper: I said shut up.

Damian: Who are you gonna tell them to give it to? My father? He's too busy. He might look like someone who'll prioritize this but I know he'll deal with everything else before he deals with getting me back. My brothers don't care about me. They've got their own thing going. They don't enough about me to try and get me back. Don't even get me started on Drake. If anything, he'll be happy with me gone. So if you think you can get money out of taking me, you're wrong. You'll only be doing them a favor if you kill me. It's not exactly a win-win. You get your money, I'm back with them, still unwanted. Or you don't get your money, I die. It'll be finished if you just kill me now. Or you wait for your money, if they ever do give it, and then kill me.

Damian sometimes finding himself on high buildings or on bridges during patrol and just looking down, like he wants to jump.

He would dissociate and when he comes to, he finds himself bleeding or injured and he'd just sleep it off.

No one notices or, they do snd just do nothing about it. Like, they'd ask each other, "Have you noticed Damian-" and they'd just shrug it off cuz, "It's Damian".

"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you."

This went on for weeks to the point where he stopped patrolling and when asked something, he'd ignore it and leave. They don't do anything about it.

After the attempt that was almost successful, they yelled at him. He said nothing and just ignored them, as if he hears nothing. He asked one of the nurses treating him that he didn't want any visitors, family or otherwise.

When he was discharged from the psych ward, Bruce tried to pick him up but he didn't even acknowledge his presence. Bruce tried to escort him to the car but Damian just walked off and acted as if no one was there. He walked home by himself with Bruce tailing him from behind.

When they got home, Damian just went straight to his room, ignoring the people who greeted him and tried to talk to him. In his room, he was curled up in bed with Titus and Alfred the Cat.

He didn't eat for a long time. He didn't talk for a long time. He only drank water and ate biscuits. And only communicated with glances and looks.

When they finally confront him, and basically yelling and begging him to tell them why he's so distant, he breaks and starts talking back.

"Don't be hypocritical. You're just begging for answers so you'll try and get me to like you again. But what's the point of earning my trust again if I know that it'll fade away again eventually. So spare the hospital fees of getting me treated. If you don't, this will happen over and over and over till you've had enough. You'll get tired and it wont be a big deal anymore. If you had just been a little bit more patient, you would've gotten used to my silence and you wouldn't even notice if I was there...which means you wouldn't even notice if I wasn't. So just stop"

They don't stop and keep on trying to apologize and earn his forgiveness for neglecting him. One day, they all get together to try and give him something special. Damian catches them in the act.

Damian: You want to make it all better?

Dick: Absolutely.

Damian: Fine. Only father can make the request come true. And all the rest of you can do is to let me.

Bruce: What is it, Damian? Anything.

Damian: I wanna go back to Mother.

Everyone falls silent and tries to interject, trying to get Bruce to not do it. But Bruce just asks him when he wants to go. Everyone is speechless. Damian says as soon as possible. Bruce tells him he'll get in touch with her as soon as he can. Damian thanks him and leaves. Everyone starts yelling at Bruce but he does nothing.

Bruce does call Talia. When he ends the call, he cries, knowing how much he fucked up. Everyone realizes too.

When Talia picks him up, his final words are, "Forget about me. Forget about the last 5 years. They never happened. You never knew I existed. You're smart, so you should know that that's the best course of action. You'll forget what happened all these years, but I never will."

Sorry, guys. I'm in a really bad place with my mental health right now. This happens every now and then. We can't control these kinds of thoughts. We can't always have good times.

Please take care of yourselves, please don't be afraid to talk to those who you can. It's fine to show weakness.

I'm not fine. Just a moment of weakness.

[kravchikfreak]

Ok Here we go:

Janai

Viren

Amaya

Sarai

Khessa

Go!

i wrote the text the day i recieved the ask (a week ago? two?) and i even draw some pictures but i had them on my pc and i was too lazy to turn it on again after i turned it off las time (two weeks ago? one?), so i'm posting the answer only now cause i finally made myself to turn it on so i can give you some pics too. anyway here we go, the text i wrote a week ago (or maybe two):

awww so many! thank you! okay, let's do it in another order

khessa and janai. well, they're just racist. okay, i should have said their family is really racist. to be honest all adult chars are pretty racist in this au (except for maybe sarai and amaya's parents and tiadrin's and kazi's parents), but janai and khessa's parents are extremely racist, therefore their kids are pretty bad too. i'll cut janai some slack, she's like 6 she doesn't understand. khessa is a kid to, 10-12 isn't this old, but she's still.... eh. she definitely uses some slurs and doesn't think that humans are people too. she'll be pretty upset when she'll learn her little sister befriended a human. but before that she'll fucking hate that elven teens are obligated to go to human school. and given that some teachers in human school are racist too... well, khess would hate it when one tome some human girl will start to defend her [khessa] in front of racist teachers. as for janai, well, she has angry issues, duh. and also she doesn't like to be bitten, who knew!

(no pics here, i'm lazy now)

sarai. she's just... aaaaaaaah. the best. the queen, even without a crown, even when harrow isn't noble either. she's not racist in slightest, her parents raised her well. she also would like to befriend an elf or two. maybe it'll be her who'll defend an elf girl from fucked up teachers. also she used to translate into ksl everything that is said in amaya's presence, even if amaya isn't interested in the conversation, even if amaya looks away at the moment. only times sarai breaks this rule of hers - is when viren starts cursing.

amaya... well, she's amaya, but little dor now. she likes to fight, but only for good reason. just as sarai, she isn't a racist in slightest, but she really hates how elven kids treat human kids. she'll have a fight the first day in elven daycare (cause while elven teens go to human school, human kids go to elven daycare). also she bites people (it's not my idea, but i'm using it. and i don't quite remember who's an author, so credits to whoever came up with this. i love it)

(lazy pic)

and viren. oh my precious boy viren. he's just... something else, you know. he's just... okay, i forgot i was going to give one fact per ask or something and not every info i have in one infodump. so i'll do it for viren. one fact about him: he likes to swear in front of amaya, he thinks it's funny to teach her bad words (or maybe he likes being hit by sarai? who knows)

okay i can't do one fact only. another fact: he'll convince the gang (harrow and sarai, and amaya as a bonus plus one) to go study elven wildlife, and they'll find a little wild inferno tiger, and the gang will have a bit of a trouble cause while viren is my little precious boy, he's still a bit of a dick and, as a child, he's also a bit of stupid. what i mean is, he'll think it's a good idea to poke tiger with a steak and tease it

(not lazy pic cause i love my boi viren i can't just not to go all-in when i draw him)

AND ALSO i have a little story of amaya and viren. but i wanna post it separately. stay tuned (i wanna provide some drawings for it as well, so it might take some time or should i say some years)

also, thank you again very much!

also i'm still open to more questions

[blueparadis]

Hello Paradis. I want to ask you something and if it bothers you , I'm sorry.

Lately, there has been a lot of negativity in Tumblr. I'm not only talking about hate anons, I'm also talking about less blog interactions, and affecting them,them eventually leaving Tumblr or to stop writing and some anons ask strange questions. Now, all these aside i found myself thinking :

Omg!, that writer wrote the character so perfectly. Should I post mine? who'll read mine? There are tons of people who're writing, posting, regularly. i just find myself thinking i can never write like them. I don't like my writing... after reading such beautiful and remarkable fics. So,idk what to do?how do I overcome this feeling?

Okay, buckle up folks.

And before I start let me tell you that everyone goes through self-doubt. It's absolutely natural and you grow through self-doubt: if you talk with yourself.

Despite feeling that you can't possibly write like they do,do you still find yourself wanting to finish the wip you're struggling with?

Despite feeling that your writing might not catch people's eye,do you still think that you want to write your thoughts on your fav?

Despite the poor interactions,do you still want to write that particular idea that seemed to rare for the readers to consume?

If yes, then do it. Do finish the that wip that you've been struggling to write for months, pour all your thoughts about your fav,do nurture that particular idea ,give the time it needs. It'll thrive. And, then when you're a little estatic, maybe post it? Or maybe not? but let me tell you even if it doesn't catch much audience you yourself will come to read your fics because you did it for yourself. Sure, better interactions will boost your confidence but if it doesn't happen you won't think you failed.

Taking break because of self-doubt won't help if you've tons of ideas flooding in your mind. It might make you more anxious and competitive i guess.

Writing is process. Don't rush it.

Writing is an escape. Don't avoid it.

Writing is solace. Don't make it suffocating.

So,talk with yourself :^)