#mostly because I lost it and also I used a different brush at the time sooooooo

[brooklynisher]

There's no Fanart Friday for this month either which has me tempted to fish for another prompt on here but at the same time, I've got too many WIPs and if I'm being honest, I'm not quite ready to abandon them yet

I don't know what the worst part of being an artist is but wanting more work while simultaneously wanting to finish my stuff yet not having time for either ISN'T my favorite thing

[malehypnofantasy]

My husband moved us together from our beautiful Moroccan countryside life to this inhospitable and lonely American metropolis to pursue his lifelong dream. The accumulating wealth left me with lonelier times and less moment with him as his job drowned him while he decided to boarded the twins to this private boarding school where most of his friends placed their kids into. The isolation he confined me into when we started here caused me to be practically friendless and it's not like my English is that fluent. I also hated how people perceived me due to my look and background, so I eventually "resigned" from the peering public eye and never really went out unless it's very necessary. So, can you blame me when I tapped into my ancestral roots and decided to forge my own happiness?

Hany here is just the latest addition of my growing collection, and I love how his cockiness is just so infectious everytime I phased my consciousness into him, I simply felt like I have no more worries in the world

It's always a delight for me to just be out there, no shirt on and having the ability to move my muscles the way men can do all of the amazing tricks that their bodies can pull off.

Hany, my cocky bachelor neighbor, is quite a tricky one to capture as he's mostly alert for most of the time. But when he knocked on my door one night with my husband nowhere in sight, clearly drunk from the way he slurred his words and the intense smell of alcohol mixed with his musk, I took that opportunity. Instead of taking him back to his unit, I phased out from my body and went straight to met his soul. The weakened and half-conscious state of the soul allowed me to simply moved him aside and planted my control over his physique. Then, from there, I use Hany's body to give my frozen body a kiss as a way to build a "connecting bridge" as my soul transferred back to my body but at the same time, our body is connected. Ever since that moment, I can simply drowse off or focused myself a bit to be able to feel what Hany is feeling or even better, controlling his body right away to do what I want him to do

It wasn't this powerful and complex at first. My earliest subject was this drained construction worker that I saw everyday working on the site a couple building from mine. I've tried to phase out a couple times before but none of it worked because I realized that the soul and/or the body managed to resist me. So, looking at the hard-working men in hard hat and hi-viz, I decided to took a leap of faith and phased out from my body. Why I selected the body in particular? For starter, I saw him smoking weed before, and not just once, so I deduced that he probably smoked his fair share of weed for the day and the cigarette in his mouth meant that he's in a sort of relaxed state.

Other reason? Well, I heard him once in the bodega talking about his "fucked sleeping schedule" and the lack of "sex from the noisy demanding bitch" of a girlfriend who worked the same graveyard shift with him as of now, so I knew he must be stressed and mentally drained. Sounds like an easy target, and he was that easy, I slipped in and out of him for 1 month straight with no resistant

So many firsts happened when I was inside Dezz. My first (I lost count on how many times after just 2 weeks) orgasm as a man, my first sex with a girl, my first deadlift, my first fight, just endless adventure. I also learned about building the connection during my time inside Dezz. It's simply out of pure instinct and in a the spirit of experimentation, but I tried to transfer back in a more discreet and less exhaustive manner so I booked this motel and left the door unlocked, phased into Dezz and then drove his truck to the said motel as I basically made out with myself. When our lips connected and even before Dezz cock slipped into me, I found myself staring at Dezz scruffy face right before he passed out. I ran away from that motel room, sensing something is different from that kiss, but I brushed it off and let Dezz sorted himself out back to whatever routine he's having. Later that evening, around an hour or so before the time Dezz started his shift and as I tried to get some sleep, somehow I felt this pulsating sensation from my clitoris and that's when my vision started to get glitchy for the first time. One second I saw my room and then the following second, a slender statuesque figure sat on top of a scruffy happy trail I knew belonged to Dezz. As he nutted inside his girl, I was leaking from the "ghostly" experience, but that led me to the groundbreaking "connection" that I always utilized ever since

Dezz is my first. Hany is my latest. But those two just cannot compete with Chris the Beast.....

Oh that one is the craziest, and maybe I'll share more about my time inside of Steve and the others when I have more time. My husband is arriving soon and I need to phase out from Hany now if I wanna be safe and look more presentable to welcome my husband.

[kakiastro]

Astrology Notes:

Mercury Edition

This is what my astrology notes look like lol

-People who have a Mercury-Uranus aspect can indicate having lots of intelligence. These are the “mad geniuses” of our world. These native may have lots of ideas on how to help humanity as a whole. You might be in a lot of controversies over your words or be misunderstood. On the flip side of this aspect, this can indicate someone who has a strong knowledge of it all personality and don’t want to hear others options. May get offended easy and loves to argue.

-Mercury/Moon aspect natives need to control their emotions before they speak especially if you have it in a harsher aspect like a square or opposition. You may get flustered or your feelings may get hurt easily. These natives are sensitive to words, they may act like they don’t care but it definitely hurt their heart. On the flip side, they may be mostly the quiet type of people. Once they open up, it’s like a whole different person lol. They also have a strong intuition, they understand people more than they let on. They also have a soft spot for babies and young kids.

-Mercury Capricorn/10h natives has a lot of wisdom within them. They start learning harsh lessons during there early years. Usually by the time they reach their first Saturn return, they may sound like a retired 60 year old giving out advice due what they’ve endured 😅 Capricorn rules over time, so as they get older, the more introspection they have on the word. These are the perfect natives to receive advice from because of the lived experience. On the flip side, if these natives use their words or actions to hurt others, it will come back. Capricorn is one of the “power” placements , hence why it rules the 10h(highest point our chart) so moral of the story, use your words for good. Make stretching your daily routine, your cap Mercury will one day thank you. Also, take care of your teeth, even if you can’t afford to go the dentist , brush them and floss.

-Mercury/Jupiter aspect natives have a thirst for knowledge and seeking the truth. They don’t believe in the theory “not everything has an answer.” Because to them it does, you’re just too stupid to them to find it but they will😅don’t lie, y’all know it’s true! These natives will make excellent historians, professors, gurus, researchers, writers. They are pretty open about their beliefs and don’t mind debating you about them.

-Mercury Pisces/12h natives occasionally experience brain fog😅 they have the ideas and creativity but they’re time when their brain is filled with smoke😭 sometimes they just be talking and we don’t know what their talking about but they have beautiful voices so we let it slide lol. Speaking of voices, they are incredibly singers, like you just get lost or hypnotized by their words. Listening to frequency music or Lo-fi songs will help soothe y’all mind. Take care of feet, clip your big toe nail and put some lotion on them. Don’t be out here with goblin feet😭

-Mercury Sagittarius/9h natives loves foreign cultures and always traveling some damn where chile😅 these natives are either anti-religious or very religious. They may also just like studying religion as an interest without really holding those beliefs themselves. May have lots of father figures growing up. May have their own library of books and publications they love to keep. These natives, like Capricorn are also good at giving advice because they’re constantly researching or reading to find answers. Take care of y’all legs by stretching, running, even if you’re disabled, if you can, physical therapy or someone you trust can stretch your legs for you. I know everyone circumstances is different and that’s ok! Do what you can with what you got!

-Chiron Gemini /3h words can be so healing but triggering at the same time. They tell it like it is and it can sting but at the same, their advice can help the collective. They may have a wound with a sibling(s) . They could’ve been bullied in elementary school. These people at their best, turn their pain into healing and help others. They may understand the misunderstood people in our world. At worst, they use their pain to hurt others , they may have started out doing that but then started learn and heal. It really depends on the person because we all have free will.

-Chiron is said to associated with Virgo since it’s a healer astroid. It’s also associated with Sagittarius because he’s a teacher and a centaur which are ruled by Jupiter.

-Mercury/Venus natives have such beautiful voices and has a way with words😍these are the true charmers, they way that they can make you fall in love with them with just their voice and words. If they decided to write a book, it would get lots of attention especially if they write romance and poetry.

-Mercury Aries’s /1h natives loves cussing and has a potty mouth on them for sure 😅y’all put a sailor to shame. They may come off as brash with their words even though they mean well. You just have to listen to the words and not the tone sometimes😅. I also notice these natives tend to get lots of headaches or migraines with this placement.

I’ll stop here but I might make a part 2 to this. Let me know what Mercury placements or aspect you want me to make note on. I’m also open for paid readings if you’re interested!

[wadewnstonwilson]

older boyfriend wade wilson headcanons || suggestion by anonymous

pairing: wade wilson (deadpool) x genderneutral!reader

author note: let me know if you guys want me to make this into an actual fic!! also would love to make more headcanons in the future featuring logan or wade so please feel free to drop me an ask!

wade’s protective streak is amplified by the age gap. he knows you’re young and still figuring life out, so he’s hyper-aware of anything or anyone that might cause you stress. whether it’s a professor being unfair or a creep at a party, wade’s ready to swoop in. “do you want me to talk to them? or, y’know, scare the crap out of them? either works.”

wade’s surprisingly good at helping you study—mostly because he makes it fun. he’ll quiz you with ridiculous impressions, draw crude diagrams that somehow make sense, or turn your flashcards into a card game. if you’re struggling with a tough class, he’s your biggest cheerleader, reminding you of how smart you are even when you doubt yourself.

wade can’t stand seeing you stressed about money, especially when you’re juggling work and school. he’ll casually slip extra cash into your wallet or “accidentally” order way too much takeout so you have leftovers for days. if you protest, he brushes it off. “relax, baby, i’m just investing in my future sugar parent.”

wade constantly jokes about the age gap, calling himself a “cradle robber” or making exaggerated comments about how “back in his day,” things were different. it’s all in good fun, though, and he loves how your younger energy keeps him on his toes. “you’re like my very own personal time machine, babe. you make me feel young again. except for my knees—those still hate me.”

despite his humor, wade sometimes wrestles with insecurity about the age difference. he worries he’s too damaged or experienced for you and questions whether he’s holding you back. he doesn’t voice it often, but it’s clear in the way he sometimes pulls away or gets quiet when he sees you thriving in your college world.

wade is your rock during stressful times. when finals season rolls around, he’s there to remind you to take breaks, eat, and sleep. he might even bribe you with snacks or cuddles to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. “you can’t ace that exam if you’re running on fumes, babe. now eat this chimichanga before i cry.”

wade loves whisking you away from the monotony of college life for spontaneous dates. whether it’s midnight runs to a 24-hour diner or an impromptu road trip, he makes sure you’re not missing out on fun just because you’re busy with school.

while wade doesn’t want to overstep, he occasionally drops bits of wisdom from his own life experiences. if you’re struggling with a decision or feeling lost, he’s there to listen and gently nudge you in the right direction. “look , i’ve made enough dumb choices for the both of us. let me save you some trouble, okay?”

wade tries not to let it show, but he sometimes feels a little insecure about your college friends, especially if they’re closer to your age. he won’t stop you from hanging out with them, but he might throw in a sarcastic comment or two. “sure, go hang with your study group. but if any of them so much as *looks* at you funny, i’m calling in reinforcements. and by reinforcements, i mean me.”

wade tries to keep you at arm’s length sometimes, convinced that you deserve someone less complicated, someone who hasn’t been through what he has. but the more he tries to push you away, the more he finds himself drawn back to you. you have a way of breaking down his walls, and it terrifies him—because he wants you, but he also wants to protect you from him.

wade makes an effort to understand your college life, even if it’s wildly different from his world. he’ll attend your events, help with projects, and even try to keep up with your academic lingo (though it usually ends in a joke). “So, gpa stands for ‘great partner award,’ right? because you definitely deserve that.”

wade is constantly hyping you up, especially when you feel overwhelmed or unsure of yourself. “you’re the smartest, most badass person i know, and i know me. you’ve got this, kiddo.”

when you graduate, wade is your loudest, proudest supporter. he makes a huge deal out of it, throwing an over-the-top celebration just for you. “you did it, smarty-pants! now, can we frame your degree and put it in the bathroom? best reading material ever.”

despite his doubts and insecurities, wade’s love for you is clear in everything he does. from the way he kisses your forehead when you’re stressed to the ridiculous lengths he’ll go to make you smile, he’s all in—even if he sometimes worries he doesn’t deserve to be.

[tomurawr44]

TOMURA SHIGARAKI HEADCANONS! (2/3)

okay my last one recieved alot of love and I'm so happy for that 🖤 send in yall's reqs please, sorry if this is kind of ehh and the timelines are weird.

WARNINGS: spoilers, OOC tomura maybe, dating hcs, gn!reader

unlike all the tiktok hcs I've been seeing around, he's not the perfect boyfriend but he's not absolutely evil towards his partner. no he would not hit you, he doesn't even hit any of the league, why would he treat his partner any differently?

for villains/allies

he will treat you like a member of the league, but he trusts you more, obviously, he'll come to you for an opinion on his plan and he will trust your judgement, although not all the time. just don't do it infront of other members, he'll get pissed and sulk about it.

when you get harmed on a mission, he'll voice his concern by calling you an idiot for getting yourself hurt, and he'll call whoever hurt you an idiot for harming what he cared about.

he really is absolutely down bad hates you, he hates the way you make him feel so..vulnerable, and he hates the way you care about him so much, why are you kissing his bruises and wounds? he can bandage himself by himself, don't act all smartass when he gets hurt, you got hurt not too long ago too! he hates all of it! but in the end, he'll crawl into your arms just to hold you, even if it's just by your clothes, or it's you holding him, he'll grumble about how stupid it is before he presses closer against you.

he loves watching you fight or just be in your element, combat based? your his personal bodyguard now. you're kinda like skeptic where he's mostly computer based? he loves to watch and cover for you, it makes him feel like he's in a game or movie.

during the time Kurogiri was captured and sent away, that was the time you kind of saw him spiral a little, not in a manic way just in a way where he was forced to mature so suddenly and it took him a little bit to get used to it, so please be there for him.

during the overhaul arc, you were his righthand (person), there to intimidate and speak alongside him to try and get him to be mature around overhaul. luckily though that fell through.

and then, when the MLA arc started, thats when he feared for you, he knew that you were capable of protecting yourself but it wasn't so secret to the public that you were very close with him. mostly just being called 'Tomura Shigaraki's partner' or something alongs the lines of that, and he had a feeling they were going to try and target you to get information or get under his skin.

it didn't happen though, and you two ruled the PLA together and everyone was afraid of you🖤

during the months leading up to his surgery, it's up to you how you feel about it but you're worried, obviously. who wouldn't be? it was scary.

after his surgery and he obtains AFO, it kind of feels like you lost touch with him, as though he's a completely different person and it's just..off. when you find out AFO is controlling him though, somewhat like what happened during the final endings of the chapters, you're able to connect with him and try and soothe him from the inside out, even if you know it won't do much with AFO in the way.

for civilian s/o (pre USJ/15-18yr old tomura)

it was a wonder that you two got together, you'd have to be the one to approach him first though, places i think you'd be able to spot him in are the arcade, the mall, the gameshop, a 24hr place, computer cafes or hanging around different bars.

he won't be the one to confess first, actually, there won't be a confession, he kind of just thought you two became official somewhere along the way due to how close you two have become.

AFO does not approve of you, he sees you as a source of love and care that he does not want tomura to have distraction and he's torn because he does like you but he also values his master more. so once AFO finds out, he'll become distant :(

but in the end, he might end up lying or trying to brush you off whenever you become a subject between him, Kurogiri and AFO.

he hasn't done anything criminal yet so he usually tells Kurogiri he's going to the mall when in reality he's heading to you .

please just love this man. he needs it, please be patient with his bratty bullshit and show him your not gonna leave no matter what. he might throw temper tantrums but just hold him, kiss his fingers and watch him try and close off but your just too warm for his cold heart.

he's whipped, he doesn't really say i love you though, you have to say it alot otherwise he'll sulk. (he never says it back)

he tends to express his thankfulness/love language through acts of service, quality time and gift-giving. he's scared to touch you, if he disintegrates the only person to actually make him feel normal, what then? what becomes of him?

contrary to some, he's actually very insecure. like, he tries to put it off but he just hates how he looks in general, please praise him, tell him how handsome he is. he doesn't know how he's able to date someone like YOU. he doesn't consider himself as someone to take a second glance at, not even decent because of all his itchies, he doesn't tend to dwell on it but when he does, you can tell.

he never lets you sleep in the same bed as him, for obvious safety reasons but he loves watching you rest. seeing how peaceful you are wrapped up in his blankets, he loves it. sometimes while a game is taking a long time to load, queue, or install, he'll just watch you. call him creepy (please don't) but he has a bunch of pics of you sleeping.

he loves your hair, he loves smelling you, if you use scented things, he loves running his hands carefully through your hair and watching as his fingers disappear into the strands. he loves it when you do the same to him and scritch scritch here and there on him.

speaking of scratching, kissing his neck or face whenever he tries to itch them almost makes the feeling for him drop instantly, not so much but it shocked him the first time you did it.

he loves watching you laugh and smile, doesn't matter if it's about something stupid, it makes him smile too oddly enough.

to date him you have to go through the trials of mamagiri and AFO, get ready to be interrogated when he goes to the bathroom or god forbid you stay for dinner. Kurogiri will be TALKING. (In mhoj2, Kurogiri's a big talker, as in he has voicelines a minute or so long.)

he will tell you his real name if he trusts you enough (AFO does mention his real name to him when he first picked him up so im pretty sure he knows it.)

he's just a sad wet cat please love this crusty munch.

—Ake 2024

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: None Prompt: Time to wrap it all up, and perhaps receive one or two surprises. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 42: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Wednesday, December 23rd

The art store was small, but filled with colours all around. Small little black cabinets with golden numbers on top behind the counter, and walls lined with different paint pots and colours, a wall with wooden frames and delicately separated boxes that held paint brushes of all different sizes and shapes and, by the bits you’d read, also materials. 

At the top of the cabinets there was a small display of colourful markers and pens and other things that you knew muggles used but you weren’t too familiar with. Apparently, they used stick glue instead of sticking spells to adhere stuff. You wondered how much of this stuff Sirius actually knew about and vowed to bring him to this place with you one day. 

And while you did appreciate art, thoroughly – you’d gone to multiple museums, both muggle and wizarding through your trips – you had no idea what the difference was between gouache and acrylic, or why the “Rembrandt” that claimed to be made out of oil, where much more expensive than the “Winsor & Newton” ones that claimed the same. It had to be because of the quality, right? 

“Good evening, may I help you?” a young man, probably in his late twenties asked as he approached you. He was dressed in rather formal clothes and had a pair of thin-rimmed golden glasses. You would have probably considered him attractive if you hadn’t been accustomed to Sirius’ dashing looks or Remus’ lovely smile. You really were lucky to be surrounded by handsome and pretty humans, you thought, thinking of the rest of your friends. 

You must have looked as lost as a Bowtruckle in the middle of New York since he looked like he would try to be overly polite. 

“I’m looking for a gift, my boyfriend loves to draw, but I’m… not really good with all the supplies and stuff, I was thinking perhaps a nice set of pencils and a sketchbook. I’ve been looking through the paints as well, but I don’t think he’s the kind to do the whole canvas thing, at least not while we’re in school.” 

“Well, does he colour his drawings?” 

You thought about it for a moment, what he’d shown you were mostly sketches done in pencil, though there were some with an underlayer of red and or blue. “I think he uses some for the base of the drawings.” 

“Does he overline them?” The expression you gave him when he asked made him clarify it. “After the pencil sketch is done, does he add a pen or marker to finish up the details?” 

Sirius did not do that, but you also thought how complicated it would be to do such a thing with a quill instead of the pens and trinkets the muggles had invented so you nodded in response. “Yeah… not that often but I’m sure he’d like something to be able to do it.” 

“All right, follow me,” he said as he motioned to one of the furthest walls. “This is where we keep all of our sketchbooks, the thicker the grammage the stronger pens and markers it will hold. Also, some can even hold watercolour, not sure if he’s into that too.” 

“Do you have like – a book on the basics of watercoloring? I feel like he might actually be interested in that.” 

“We do,” he said with a nod and moved to the other side of the store bringing you a few options. You picked one of them and then looked through the sketchbooks. There were different sizes and colours and the pages felt really different on most of them. Some were especially made for watercolours and some were for drawing. You took one with about 100 pages for watercolour and one with the same amount of pages but with a bit less grammage for sketches. 

They both had a black cover with golden elegant trims that you thought would definitely go with Sirius’ look, although one opened from the side, making it more of a panoramic view while the other one stayed horizontal. You handed them in to the guy and he took them to the counter as you continued looking around. You leaned into the watercolour section and started to look at all the different options available. 

“If this is the first time he’ll do watercolour, may I recommend you buy a set?” he asked politely as he showed you a small wooden case, when he opened it there were all sorts of small blocks with different colours on them. “These are my favourite brand, but really gentle with beginners, they also come with this interesting thing,” he added as he handed you a small brush with a clear section at the top. “It comes with water, you don’t have to dip your brush that often, really useful once you get the hang of it.” 

“You have more of those?” you asked and he nodded, showing you the different sizes of brush ends. After a while, and with a lot of his help, you ended up selecting about 5 different brushes and the colours that you’d fill the small wooden box with as well, which you thought was fantastic since you could fill it up with whatever colours you chose and not a set palette. 

“You’ll also take the marker set, the watercolour book and the sketchbooks, correct? Anything else?” 

“Uhh… Am I missing anything that he might need?

“Does he draw portraits or landscapes?” 

You thought back of the Remus drawing he’d shown you, and then of the one you had chosen not to see. “He draws portraits and anatomy studies. Though I’m sure I’ve seen him doodle other stuff too.” 

“He might like this book then,” he told you as he handed over another book. It was about proportions and hand drawing and a lot of very advanced-looking stuff, you smiled. 

“This one as well, please…” he was about to finish the bill when you stopped him, looking down through the glass display and pointing towards something, “Is that a penknife?” 

“Well, yes,” he replied, “Although sharpeners are used more often nowadays, some people still prefer them.” 

“I’d like one of those as well,” you added with a smile. 

“Excellent.” The man gave you your total and then handed every single thing in a thick paper bag. “You said it was for a gift, right?” 

“Yes,” you nodded and he walked to the back of the shop, pulling a very elegant and sturdy black box, he eyed the bag as if calculating if everything would fit and then handed it over to you along with a black and gold ribbon with the name of the store repeated over and over. 

As he handed it over he pulled it back for a second and gave you a smile. “That young gentleman is very lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” 

“I think I’m just as lucky as he is,” you responded with a small smirk as you took the box. 

“Would you like me to call you a cab?” 

You thought about it for a second. Your house wasn’t that far, and with a short levitating spell you wouldn’t have to carry much stuff either, but the Knight Bus did mention they’d be very busy and you had been walking all day. “Yes, thank you.”

The man called for one and you waited inside the store until the cabbie arrived. You gave him your address and he took you straight there. You took the lift of your building, using your wand to unlock the secret –magical- floor your parents had purchased in London and waited. 

When the two, golden doors of the lift opened to your drawing room, you sighed. Leaning down to take off your shoes. “Mom? Dad?” 

No answer. “What time is it?” you whispered to yourself as you looked at the clock, quarter past ten? That art store surely has late closing times, you thought as you leaned back down to pull your bags up and drag them to your room. 

There was a note on the table along with what looked like a delightfully looking salad and steak. 

We’ll be home late, serve yourself. See you tomorrow darling.

You sighed and after placing the bags on the table, and using a warming spell on the food, you ate. Once you were done, the plate disappeared from the table and instead, a chocolate cake showed up. You smiled, at least they knew you liked sweets. You took a few bites from that and took it, along with your gifts, to your room. 

That’s when you remembered you had promised to tell your friends when you arrived here so you quickly scribbled a few notes. Sending your owl –Resse– back to the Potter’s and Barnaby –the family’s owl– to Beth. Then you took some Floo powder and leaned over the fire. 

“Tom?” You asked as you peeked through his chimney. 

“Sly sprite?” He asked as he leaned over. “I was starting to worry,” he said as he left a book on the side. “You got home, all right?” 

“Yeah!” you said with a smile. “And I got a bunch of good stuff at the store too, it was worth it.” 

“It better have been! Beth is home too, we stopped by hers first.” 

You chatted with Tom for a little while more and ended the call when you started to yawn and he followed right after. With that, you went for a quick and warm shower and then back to bed. 

Thursday, December 24th

There was a soft knock on the door, you stirred on your bed but didn’t wake and then there was another one. “Sweetheart? Breakfast’s ready, come eat.” 

“On my way,” you said as you sat on your bed and rubbed your eyes a couple of times. The day was bright, you’d forgotten to shut your windows at night and now you had the perfect view of the Thames through your window. You thought back to Hogwarts and how all the splendour of it had been made by magic, while the splendour of London had mostly been made by muggles. 

The high skyscrapers, the Ferris Wheel across the river, the towers, palaces and bridges, all muggle-made, and without magic, it was fascinating. You didn’t understand why wizards had so many prejudices against them –aside from the whole burning on steak part, muggles seemed to be quite incredible and determined people.  Perhaps you should have taken that muggle studies optative. 

“Sweetheart?” you heard your father’s voice, a bit more stern than your mother’s. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you said as you shook your covers off and grabbed your wand from the nightstand. “As if they hadn’t been home hours after I got here,” you mumbled as you fished for a pair of slippers under your bed. 

By the time you got out of your room both your mom and dad were sitting on the living room table. Your mom was wearing a beautiful cocktail dress while your dad had a perfectly fitting black suit on with a small cape, draped elegantly behind his chair. You were still wearing a band shirt you had stolen from Sirius a while ago, and that you had been wearing under Remus’ jumper before the trip. “Lovely to see you,” you said with an awkward smile, “it’s been a while.” 

Your father looked up from his newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand only for a second, nodded and then went back to read. Your mom gave you a sympathetic look and nodded for you to sit down. After a couple of minutes, your dad bent the newspaper and placed it on the side of the table.  

“We’ve heard plenty of your Hogwarts Adventures,” your father said looking at you. “You’ve been doing a masterful job at maintaining our house’s name relevant.”  

You frowned at that, that had never been your intention. 

“You were incredible in the broom race though you lost,” your father said. “And you’ve won two quidditch matches–” 

“That was a team effort…” you said, your voice growing smaller as his hand dismissed you. 

“You’ve kept your grades high and you’ve even entered the duelling club…”

“Not to mention her Theoretical Magic grades,” your mom added with a smile. 

“And you’re dating one of the Black kids.” 

You swallowed. You had mentioned in your letters that you and Sirius had gotten along now that you were in the same house, but you hadn’t specifically mentioned you were dating him.

“The disowned Black kid,” your father continued. 

You straightened a little, you had discussed with your dad the things that happened back in your vacations with the Blacks. It hadn’t been particularly nice talk, but you weren’t going to back down, his political means could not be worth more than his morals. And things had been rather tense between the two since then.

When two people had such intense ideological differences and desires, they were bound to clash against each other, especially when those ideologies juxtaposed against the other often, being only furthered by the fact that you were –at least on breaks– living under the same roof. 

Your priorities had been wildly different and you weren’t shy about letting him know, which caused your relationship to deteriorate quickly. Not to say you –or him– had been particularly rude to each other, but you were much colder. It was almost Christmas, and you didn’t want to start a fight with him, let alone over something that you were most definitely not going to yield on. 

“I think it’s all right. He might have been disowned by his family but he still stays in contact with some of the other Blacks like Alphard and the other disowned child… whatever her name is…” Andromeda, you thought as you tried to process the fact that he had just said it was fine. “Just try to avoid mentioning him in tomorrow’s dinner. I’m sure Walburga wouldn’t be particularly pleased.” 

“Tomorrow’s dinn– Walburga will be coming?” 

“Of course not, they have invited us to their Christmas dinner,” he said. “It’ll be hosted in Rosier Manor, I believe.” 

“Whose manor?” You asked, your breath going short along with your question. 

“Mr. Rosier,” your mom repeated. “All important wizards will be there.” 

“I’d rather skip Christmas altogether.” 

“I’m sorry, darling. This isn’t a matter of preferences. You will go and then we’ll let you do whatever you please for the rest of the break. Visit muggle London as much as you want or dally with your friends, I really don’t care as long as you maintain your composure during tomorrow’s dinner.”

Your leg was bouncing slightly under the table. “I don’t believe I will be welcomed in that house.” 

“You will be welcomed because you are my daughter and I’m me,” he said with an air of finality. “We need to present a strong family front, play your part and you’ll be rewarded.” 

“Right, my part,” you said bitterly. You wondered if your mother was playing her part too, they were in love, that wasn’t questionable, but sometimes it felt like she became nothing more than an addition to his recollection of what a perfect life should look like. Did he marry her because of the love he felt for her or because she’d look like a delightful trophy wife by his side on political dinners? Had she not been as beautiful as she was, had she not been well educated, would he have married her either way? 

You wondered, when had Silas become the man he is now? When did his greed for power become so intense he would sacrifice his morals to achieve it? When you were smaller, you thought they loved each other, even now, you saw when they looked at each other with those adoring eyes, but… there was a tale of sacrifice weaved in between their story, and with one party constantly bending to the other’s wishes, you weren’t sure you could still call it love. 

When devotion became toxic, was it still something that came from love, or had it become something else altogether? 

“Indeed darling, we ask for nothing more than one night. Then you will not be bothered, free to go wherever you want and with whomever you please. Does that sound like a fair deal?” 

You sighed and nodded, “One dinner.”

Your mother smiled at that, letting out a nervous breath and then reached for your hand. “Your clothes for tomorrow are already in your closet, I also got you some nice potions and make-up.” 

“Thanks, Mum,” you said with a short smile and looked at your food. It looked delicious, it was French toast with berries and fruit on top –probably there to appeal to your sweet tooth and convince you to go– but you didn’t feel hungry at all. Especially not at the thought of having to go to Rosier Manor. As if you didn’t see enough of Evan at school, now you had to go see him on the break as well, bIoody brilliant. “Breakfast was great,” you said as you stood up. Both of them decided to ignore your almost intact plate, “I’ll be in my room in case you need anything else, you know like me playing the role of the perfect child of the politician if your friends come around or whatever.”

Your mom gave you a reproachful look while your dad gave you an impassive one, you raised your eyebrows at the two of them, almost tauntingly before you turned around, walking back to your room and letting the door close behind you gently –it was not the inanimate objects fault that your parents were acting like pricks. 

You sat on your bed and took a deep breath before you saw a small owl by one of your windows, you let him in and took the rolled parchment from his feet before feeding him some water. 

Dear Vix, Hope this letter finds you all right, Sirius was moaning about you going along Beth and Tom and not inviting him to buy Christmas stuff it was draining! Now I was not going to write to you about it because he said he would punch me in the face but I had to write anyway since mum and dad wanted you to have our address so you could come here through floo anytime.  Hope you’re having a great time, Sirius and I went flying with Pete today (he lives a few houses from us, did we tell you?), and while it was nice not having to worry about Sirius distracting himself from snogging you, we missed you still.  Mum and Dad send greetings to your parents, hope you’re also having a blast.  Your bestest friend, James P.  PS. Mum sent this tea for you, she said she thinks you’d like it with how much sweet stuff you eat and stuff.  PS 2. Love you, but I bet you’re missing me more <– That was Sirius. 

James’ stupid letter made you chuckle, especially the last bit, as if it had been necessary to point out that Sirius had been the one to write it. You placed the letter into a small box in your bag and smiled as you walked to pick up some of the stuff you’d be giving your friends as their gifts.  

You picked up some wrapping paper and started wrapping all of their gifts, the owls would have to do a couple of trips to take them all to their place, but you’d make sure to leave them plenty of food throughout the night, so they could continue their trips and the presents would be at your friend’s beds in the morning. 

You had gone through most of the smaller gifts first, writing small, and neatly written Christmas cards on them. Then you went for the bigger ones, the books you’d gotten for Lily, some of the stuff for Mary and Marlene, James’ pack, and of course, Remus and Sirius’. 

It wasn’t until then, that you realised how overboard you had gone with your gifts. You’d gotten Remus so many books, both magical and muggle, that you almost felt guilty you hadn’t gotten Lily and James more stuff. And then you tried telling yourself it was because Remus would spend Christmas alone and he deserved at least a bit of happiness, you weren’t deliberately playing favourites. 

And then Sirius’ pile was clearly a mess, you had all the music you’d gotten, the shirts, the penknife that you wanted to engrave with his name (you were researching for the right spell to do it) and a bunch of other stuff for him. Besides, you still wanted to make the playlists, so before you finished packing the bigger boxes, you started testing the recorder. Now there wasn’t exactly a step by step guide on how to record music, but there was a small booklet that showed you how the thing worked and you spend the rest of the day figuring it out, listening to music and making a playlist for each of your friends. Using all the songs you thought they might like.

When you were done with that, you continued packing all the stuff. Deciding to send all the music back to the boys’ room at Hogwarts so they could leave it on Sirius’ stash. Well, all of them except for the David Bowie tape you had specifically gotten for Sirius and that would look great with his shirt and the rest of the gifts you’d gotten him. 

You went out to get some food at some point during the day, and there was another note from your parents telling you they were off at an event. Well, good riddance, you thought as you went back to your room with a sandwich in your hands. You picked one of the books you’d gotten for yourself and you spent almost the rest of the day reading it while jamming to one of the playlists you’d made. A copy of the one you’d made for Remus since you thought it went well with the book you’d chosen to read. 

You fell asleep before your parents got home, with the book still in your hands and the music playing softly in the background until the cassette ran out of tape and was softly ejected by the machine. The sound it made had been so soft it didn’t wake you at all. 

Thankfully, you had remembered to leave enough water and food for the owls, since they had spent all night doing trips back and forth to your house and your friends’. 

Friday, December 25th

You woke up by being pecked in the face by a very big and very angry owl. 

“Oi!” you complained. “What’s wrong with you?” The owl chirped and picked you again, this time on the ear. “Bitch,” you mumbled as you pushed him back lightly, only for him to pick you in the finger again. 

You gave him an upset look and he pulled back just a little, tilting his head towards the window, and the lack of food and refreshments. 

“Oh, so that’s why you’ve been attacking me non-stop?” you asked as you stood up from the bed, failing to see the pile of wrapped gifts at the end of it. The owl chirped in response, a scowl that you weren’t sure was his natural face shape or an actual scowl directed towards you. “I’m sorry,” you added, “Barnaby and Reese must have eaten them all. They did many trips last night, you know?” 

The owl chirped again, a little angry as he flew towards the window, as if saying «I too flew many trips last night» looking as indignant as a Towny Owl could. You added a few of the special snacks you kept for Reese just to keep him from biting you again. You looked at the name tag and realised who the owner of the owl had been. 

Eun-ji, Minho had told you about her, she was his family’s owl and apparently, the name meant something like “kind”. So much for a kind owl, you thought as you looked at her, gobbling up Reese’s treats. You leaned over when you noticed there was a small letter attached to his feet and took it in your hands before the owl flapped his wings and left. 

Merry Christmas Star Seeker,  Hope you’re having a great time. Thought of giving you a special thanks for that one time you –quite literally– pushed me towards my crush and got us to start a conversation, that, well, you know how great it ended!  Even for a Gryffindor, you’re really nice, so I thought of getting you something for you to get some more hate from your fellow Gryffindor, Eun-ji must have left the gift near your bed.

You turned to the side in the middle of reading and stood agape, there was not only a green and silver wrapped gift in what looked suspiciously like the shape of a snake, but there were also a bunch of other gifts wrapped in all sorts of colours. 

Anyway thanks for everything, hope you have fun and all. I’m looking forward to beating you all next time we play,   Love,  The one and only, and your favourite Slytherin, Minho Cha. 

You rolled your eyes at the last bit, it had been very Slytherin of him, but since you knew Minho, you also knew he was playing it off as a joke on his own house, which made a joke inside a joke and you thought it was actually kind of funny. 

You took a deep breath and walked over to your bed. There were all sorts of gifts prompted there and you decided to unwrap Minho’s first. There was a small, green snake plushie with a bow on it that had a small pendant with something written on it:  “From the snakes that love you dearly,” and then it had the names of all of your Slytherin friends: Minho, Comet, Nox, Reggie, and even some you weren’t expecting like Dorcas and Solacis. You thought it was an adorable little thing, even if –and you were certain of this– your friends would absolutely hate it. Well, not Lily, she’d also think it was adorable. 

And thinking of her, was that you picked the next gift, wrapped in pink and yellow paper, and with her a small dedicatory on the corner, you instantly knew it was from her, her neat and perfect handwriting being the dеad giveaway. You smile as you read her small dedication. She wished you a very, merry Christmas and promised to tell you everything about the train with James as soon as you saw each other in person. She wrote something along the lines of not being able to put it on paper, which made you laugh. 

When you opened the present you were thrilled, it was a small leather notebook, dark red with golden trims and your name on the cover. Not Vixen, not Starshine, or any of the other nicknames that you had come to own and love since you arrived at Hogwarts, but your name. You smiled as you traced your fingers over the letters. There was a pen on the side, golden and apparently of some interesting muggle technology that wasn’t that popular in the wizarding world. You thought it was fascinating. When you opened the notebook you realised there was something written, again in her handwriting. 

You’ve had more adventures this year than I’ve had in my lifetime. I think it’s time for you to start writing down some of them, in case you ever want to revisit them. If journaling is not your thing (which I feel like it would be because I know you), you can just use this notebook however you want. You know grocery lists, songs for mixtapes, your favourite lyrics, poems, quotes, Sirius’ doodles, your doodles,  dried flowers, stickers, whatever you want, it’s your space, and you may use it as you wish! Love, Lily

You thought the idea of having your own journal was brilliant, you always admired her for keeping hers so incredibly neat looking, and perhaps being able to let some of your feelings go on a blank page would be better than keeping them bottled up. You doubted you would be nearly as consistent as her, but you decided to add your first couple of words in there, detailing the gifts you’d gotten and the few you still had yet to open. 

You’d gotten a box of your favourite candies from Mary and some incredible quidditch trading cards from Marlene, but she had also added some makeup to her gift because if not you and James would have gotten the exact same thing and you were her favourite between the two. You got a spellbook and a muggle prank book from Tom “to further your career” according to him. There was a large, embossed book from Nina, which you discovered was an annotated version of one of your favourite books and a small set of runes from Sybil. You had gotten her a deck of cards and a book about premonitions. 

There were candies from Nox and a muggle book lantern from Neil Perry, you had both complained at some point about reading with your wand and you thought the solution he’d found was adorable. Peter had gotten you a book about canines, packed along with a small fox-themed bookmarker and a note that said “Thank you for not busting my make-out session and Merry Christmas.” He also added, “PS. maybe with this one you’ll be able to tame Pads.” Which had you wheezing with laughter for a while. 

It took at least a minute to go for the next gift, it was a small box that said to be handled carefully. You opened it according to the instructions. “Shut the fuck up!” you said the moment you realized what was inside. A small Felix Felicis vial. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” you repeated over and over again. “How did he even get his hands on it?” 

You picked up the paper from behind it, there was a small note. 

Okay say it: aside from Sirius, I AM your favourite Marauder.  You might be wondering, “How the hell did James get his hands on this?”. Well dear, I must say, I have contacts.  AKA my parents are expert potioneers and I somehow convinced Mum to brew one and that’s how I got my hands on it.  Now, I could have given it to any of my friends but I get the feeling you might be needing some of this soon enough. You know, from things I’ve seen and such (please don’t waste it on a quidditch match, though). Anyway, I know you’ll use it well, hope you have a very Merry Christmas!  Your favourite marauder AND bestest friend,  Prongs. 

You chuckled when you finished reading and went back to look at the vial with incredulity. Brewing one of these potions was arduous work, and it took weeks, which meant James must have had convinced Effie to do it even before she’d met you. Never underestimate James Potter, you thought as you grabbed onto the vial and placed it around your neck with a chain, casting a disillusionment charm on it so it wouldn’t be so obvious you had it with you. You thought the gift was brilliant. 

After that, there were only 2 gifts left. You picked the one with a silver bow first. It was a square box, about 12” wide, and had been wrapped in the same paper as James’, which made you guess who it might be from. There were chocolates and a small letter on top, neatly closed and with your name written on the back with Sirius’ almost perfect calligraphy. There was also a paper covering something, but you picked the letter up first. 

You know, I tried writing a love letter, but James wouldn’t stop making ridiculous comments about it not being profound enough and I feared I’d end up writing something close to the painfully ridiculous letters he used to write to Lily so I had to stop myself.  Who would have thought it would be that hard to put thoughts into words? I suppose if I were like Remus it would come out much easier but, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me. Actually no, fortunately you’re stuck with me, I’m delightful.

You laughed, he’s not wrong. 

Anyway, I suppose what I wanted to express in those dreadful attempts of being a poet was that I’m incredibly thankful that you came to Hogwarts and that you came back to me. I’m grateful that you tolerate me and my moods and that you love me for who I am, flaws and all. I wasn’t sure I’d ever found that kind of love, one that I even doubted it existed, and yet you’re always there to tease and make me laugh and– I already sound like James, but you know what I mean. You always know what I mean.  As you see, I am far from a poet, but there is something I like to do and I thought that perhaps, you’d enjoy it more than this terrible love letter.  You know, you and Remus were the first to ever see a sketch from my book, and I was feeling all sorts of things after I offered, and yet, you were there, reassuring me and telling me I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to. You know Walburga, it wasn’t much of a choice for me, so it truly meant the world, and fed me the courage I needed to let you see that part of me. And when you two finally saw it and praised me for my skills, for what I did with my own hands… You make me so incredibly gleeful, it’s almost scary how much power you could hold over me. But frankly, I’ll let you hold it all you want.  All right, enough of the sappy stuff, Merry Christmas Starshine, you know you shine brighter than my own star. Hope you like your gift.  Love,  Sirius 

See the letter here

You read the letter a few more times, smiling at the little details and jokes Sirius had sprinkled all over. And then you pulled on the bit of tissue paper covering the very last thing in the box and when you finally saw its content you couldn’t help but swear again, “Son of a bitch!” you whispered. 

There were still some small pieces of paper over the small portrait, and you carefully brushed them out to be able to lift it from the box. The image was a hand-drawn portrait of you. You had a big smile and were looking at what would be the camera if it were an image. It looked like it might have been from one of the pictures from Marlene’s party although Sirius had changed the outfit, you were wearing an oversized sweater and his leather jacket. You could tell it was his because it had one of the enamel pins you had gotten him as a gift on the lapel. 

There were touches of colours in the strokes, not quite painting the drawing but rather giving it relatively bright edges that made it look special, unlike any other doodle. And of course, he had framed it, it was a simple yet elegant frame, dark oak and with small carved details on the sides. On the left bottom corner of the drawing, there was something written in French: 

À l'étoile la plus brillante.  Amour, 

And then, instead of his name, he signed with a small and elegant star doodle. You smiled again, it was one of the loveliest things you’d ever gotten, even if it was a portrait of yourself, the fact that Sirius had been the one to draw it, made it the most special of things. There were portraits upon portraits of you in your house, with magic that allowed you to move and smile, and even talk sometimes, but none of them held as much value as the frozen drawing Sirius had given you. 

Eventually, you placed it on your night table and picked up the last gift still sitting in your bed. His box was smaller than Sirius’, about the size of a book, which had you assumed he had gotten you something along the lines of that. 

You opened the book and found a small, pocket-sized book. It was a Sreath Bàrdachd, according to the golden script at the top. You hadn’t quite realised as you pulled it from the box, but it was handmade. You looked at it in shock as you flipped to the 50+ pages, all in carefully and methodically written cursive, his handwriting. 

Later you realised it was something between a book of poems and a compilation of quotes from different books. You admired the booklet for a few more minutes when you spotted that there was a small letter, still waiting for you inside the box. You pulled it off and broke the seal with a small sword letter opener Nox had given you as a gift. 

As you did, a small chain fell from the letter and you picked it up. It was small and dainty, just long enough to wrap around your wrist, which made you wonder how he’d guessed the size. The chain was simple, and it broke off into two different sections, one with a small crescent moon and then another one with a small star. It also had one small gemstone in between the bigger charms. You looked at it with a smile and held it in your hand as you read the letter. 

Hey there, Little Witch,  Hope you’re having an incredible Christmas. By the time you read this, you’ve probably seen the Sreath Bàrdachd, and knowing how clever you are, you probably already know what that could mean. Yes, It’s a book of poems, but also a bit more than that.  I knew Sirius was making you that incredible gift of his, and I didn’t want to fall behind. Prongs didn’t tell us what he got you but he seemed pretty confident he’d have the best gift of all. Did he?  Never mind, don’t tell me, it’s a silly competition. Either way, I thought you might like having one of these. Mum used to have one, which is why I know they exist. She told me a good friend gave it to her and she has kept it ever since then. I remembered borrowing it from her once when I was little, and she taught me how to carefully flip through the pages as she read to me. She also mentioned it was a silly girl’s thing but I thought it was amazing, and went on to make my own.  Although wonky and, with quotes from children’s books, she thought I was quite a mastermind for making it by myself. Of course, I put a lot more effort into the one you have with you now. Or perhaps the same effort but with better skills. If you’ve flipped through the pages, which I assume you have, since you’re incredibly curious, you’ve probably seen some familiar quotes.  There’s stuff from books we’ve both read and stuff that only I have read but that I thought you might like. Some of my favourite poems too, and some quotes from movies that only you’d be able to get. There are even lyrics from songs, some that we really like, some that Sirius has heard so many times that I already knew them by memory, and since the two of you like similar music, I assumed you’d know them too.  Also, there’s a small bracelet in the letter. I’ve cross-charmed it, in case you ever lose the Sreath Bàrdachd (I truly hope you never do), the gemstone will shine as you approach it. I’ve also added a few luck charms that, while they won’t keep you away from trouble –I don’t think anything could– they may give you some luck while navigating it.  Don’t hit me for saying that, you know it’s true.  Love,  Moony.  PS. Prongs told me about your little quarrel with Sirius on the platform, Sirius definitely misses you more.

See the letter here

By the time you finished Remus’ letter, you were smiling as brightly as you had when you read Sirius’. You were so lucky you had found such incredible people in Hogwarts. Your bedsheets filled with torn wrapping paper were a testament to that. You spend the rest of the afternoon listening to some more music and reading through the book Remus had made. 

He had been especially careful with his handwriting which you thought was adorable, and there were a lot of quotes from Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Grey. He had written in pencil –so you could erase it if you wanted, not that you would– that it was your fault he was obsessed with his writing now. Taking poems and quotations from both, the book aforementioned and The Ghost of Canterville. You hadn’t read the latter yet, but you were almost counting the days to go back to school and ask him to lend you his copy. 

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and you had to leave the warm comfort of reading and listening to music in favour of changing into the clothes your mom had chosen for you. You sighed as the alarm clock you’d set earlier went off, and then went straight towards your closet. The dress she had picked was simple, yet elegant. It wasn’t a long dress like the one she’d probably wear, but a more youthful one with clever intricate details on the sleeves and a midi skirt.  

“Thank god it has sleeves,” you whispered to yourself as you pulled the edge of the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt up. While your skin looked almost smooth, the lighter (almost silvery) shapes where the new skin was growing over the gush Moony had made were pretty evident. You supposed makeup and a spell could make them less visible, at least for a while, but that would have probably taken you a lot more time to achieve. 

You plopped the black dress on, smoothing the sides as walking towards your vanity where your mum had left all the potions and make-up. You sighed, remembering how much more fun it had been to dress for the Gryffindor parties than it was to dress for this one. With the black dress and the pearls on your neck, you felt a lot more like you were about to walk into a funeral rather than a party. My own funeral, you thought with a laugh when you remembered whose house you’d actually be going to. 

You grabbed a pair of red, not-too-high heels, put them on, and took another look in the large mirror by the window. You looked lovely, at least there would be no complaints from your parents on that aspect. What they might complain about was the fact that you took a bag with an undetectable extension charm and filled it with a few of the books you’d gotten as a Christmas gift. You also took the journal Lily had given you and Remus’ Sreath Bàrdachd. And you weren’t sure who’d be attending that party but you sure hoped you’d be able to sneak into a corner and read a book rather than having to interact with some of the most disagreeable friends of your parents. 

“Sweetheart, are you ready?” your mom asked from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, coming,” you said as you grabbed a few more trinkets and dumped them in your bag, just in case. 

You were about to leave the room when you saw a small glistening thing in your bed and you went straight to grab it. It was the bracelet Remus had given you, and even if it took you a while to put it on, and you continued looking between your wrist and the door as you tried to get the clasp to do its job, you thought it was worth it. I could really use that extra luck. You thought. You accommodated the necklace Sirius had given you and that you never took off and then took off James’ potion and placed it on your bag since it might be safer there than around your neck. 

One last look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order and you walked out towards the living room. 

“You look delightful, darling,” your father said as he spotted you walking out of the room. 

You gave him a half shrug in response and then managed to mutter a “thanks” that you hoped didn’t sound as bitter as it felt. After another moment of silence, your mom grabbed her bag and finished clipping on one of her earrings. 

“We’ll take the floo?” you asked. 

Your father shook his head, “They’ve sent over a Portkey,” your mom explained and motioned to the table, there was a small, fancy-looking invitation right in the middle. 

“Nice,” you said as you used your wand to levitate the object and move it right in between your parents. Perhaps if it had been floo, you could have sneakily said James’ address instead of Evan’s and escaped the party altogether. Once there, your parents wouldn’t make a fuss about it in order to not make your insubordination evident. But of course, you weren’t that lucky, and you’d have to take the portkey and you’d have to go to the party. 

“In three,” your father said as he moved his hand towards the invitation, “two… one… go.” 

The three of you placed your hands on the invitation at the same time and you felt the very familiar pull on your lower back, in less than a second, the entire world distorted around you, and then, you weren’t in your house anymore.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Aww that was so cute wasn't it? Now it's time to strap on, we're about to dive head-first into the darkest side of the story, and it's going to be fun and sad and just a rollercoaster of emotions in general. Love, Lils xx

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Aziraphale and Trauma

[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]

This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.

See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!

Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.

There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.

But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.

Abuse victims are often manipulative.

I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.

Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.

What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.

A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.

https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."

In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).

So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.

We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.

His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.

The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.

This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.

Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.

The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.

A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.

There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.

Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.

That brings us back to this apology scene.

There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.

Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.

Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.

These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.

I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 14

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

A/N: this chapter is way longer than I thought it would be and all I'm saying about it is that the next couple of chapters are gonna be a shitshow 🤭🤭 Also, tried to keep the taglist as it was and to add people, but Tumblr won't let me post the chapter with how many there are. TAGLIST CLOSED 

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Not seeing Jacob for almost three weeks had not been as catastrophic as (Y/N) had thought it would be. It had been odd, she couldn’t lie. She had gotten used to seeing him at least once or twice in a week and coming home to an empty house had been unusual. Still, it had not sent her into the comatose whirlwind her sister had fallen into after her boyfriend had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.

Charlie hadn’t questioned it at first. Mostly because (Y/N) didn’t seem any different, and she still talked to someone on the phone most days. Nothing was amiss in the eyes of the household.

Until a switch flipped inside Bella. Halfway through (Y/N)’s Jacob detox, her older sister started to disappear a couple of times a week. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, but she was happy that Bella seemed to be doing better. Whether it had been because of their father’s ultimatum or because she genuinely was starting to move on didn’t matter. (Y/N) was simply happy that her sister seemed content.

Her mind was also occupied with a certain boy and what he had done to make sure she was okay. In the days after the accident, he called her every morning and every night, reminding her to change her bandages and apply antibiotic ointment. He always asked how her bruise was doing and made sure she remembered to ice it every night. He had made her feel cared for, and he had made sure she knew that someone out there was watching out for her well-being.

The feelings that fluttered in (Y/N)’s heart were still unclear to her. She couldn’t deny the magnetism that pulled her toward Paul, and the more she got to know him, the more she understood her gravitation toward him. Just not what had spurred it on.

“Hey, (Y/N), I’m going out soon,” Bella called out. “I left some breakfast done in the microwave.”

“Where are you going?” (Y/N) asked, peering her head down the stairs.

“On a hike.”

“By yourself again?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m trying to get used to being there by myself again.”

“If you give me a couple of minutes to get ready, I could go with you. Make sure you don’t fall this time,” the younger girl offered. “I wouldn’t mind some sisterly bonding..”

“Uh, well... you know, maybe next time?” Bella stammered. “I’m kind of short on time, and I have a shift at Newton’s soon after.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Just be careful, then. Wouldn’t want another ER visit.”

“Right,” she chuckled dryly. “I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”

“Yeah. See you.”

Much like the past weeks, even if she was doing well, Bella seemed to be avoiding her sister. And it felt no different than when she wouldn’t speak at all. At least at that point, she would at least meet (Y/N)’s eyeline. It had sent her down a spiral as she wondered what she had done for her sister to spend as little time as she could with her.

But she had no time to dwell on her sister’s rejection. She didn’t want to. Instead, she packed a backpack full of art supplies –paints, brushes, and a canvas notebook. The items were coated with a layer of dust, left abandoned and untouched for many years.

(Y/N) had grown up loving everything artistic. It was a side Bella was not in tune with, and it had made her feel closer to her mother because of it. When they had been on the road, many a time did Renée and her youngest daughter stop by a creek or a clearing to paint the scenery before them. If they didn’t paint, they would prop up a couple of chairs and spend hours knitting or crocheting. Those were the moments she thought there would be a possibility that she and Bella could be on equal footing.

As she got ready to go, she realized there was no way she had no way of getting anywhere near the place she had in mind without a set of wheels. Her father had promised that as soon as he could, he would get her a car, but for the time being, she was stuck hitching rides with her sister to school and depending on others to drive her anywhere. She never realized how inconvenient it was to not have a car now that she was… single?

(Y/N) walked to the phone in the kitchen, dialed the number she had unknowingly memorized, and waited for a response. “Hey,” she smiled as the call was picked up. “Are you, by chance, doing anything right now?”

“Not really,” Paul said through the phone. “I should be doing homework, but I am up for anything that gets me out of it.”

“Well, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could pick me up? I was in the mood of painting in the woods, somewhere by the trailhead off the one-ten, but I have no way of getting there.”

“I’ll be there in ten.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you if you have something to do.” 

“It’s absolutely no problem, (Y/N),” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

After he hung up the phone, (Y/N) went ahead and finished packing the rest of the supplies she would need, as well as food and drinks for the trip. If she was going to make him make the trip to and from Forks, she could at least make it worth his while. In a lunchbox cooler, she placed the remaining slices of a cake she had made the week before, BLT sandwiches she quickly put together, and anything else she could find in the fridge and around the kitchen that would be good to snack on –crackers and cheese, some assorted vegetables and fruits, chips, and bottles of water and a couple of cans of soda.

By the time Paul reached her front door, she was carrying a full backpack on her back and a couple of bags in her arms. “Are you moving to the forest?” he chuckled the moment he saw her reaching for the heaviest ones. “I didn’t think this outing would be so life-changing.”

“Well, my things are on my back,” she explained. “The lunchbox is filled to the top with food and drinks, then that bag has a blanket and some other dry snacks. I might be forcing you to make this long trip, so I thought I would at least feed you in exchange.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” Paul smiled softly. “But I appreciate the food. I may have also brought along some things to eat.”

“Great minds think alike, it seems,” she returned his grin. “Then, thank you for driving me. I’m sure there are a million other ways you would rather spend a Saturday.”

“Not really,” he shrugged as he opened the passenger door for (Y/N) after placing all of the bags in the back. “You honestly saved me from a very boring English paper on The Great Gatsby.”

“I actually read that book last year,” she added as Paul turned the truck on. “It’s really good once you get into the story.”

“How have you already read it? I thought you were a sophomore.”

“I didn’t read it for school,” she chuckled. “Surprisingly enough, you can read things without being graded on them and like them. It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“Then I guess I will just have to give it a fair chance,” he said. His eyes snapped to hers for a quick second before focusing on the road once more, and she couldn’t help the rush that it sent through her. “If it’s one of your favorites, then it must have some type of redeeming quality.”

“I’m sure you’ll like it,” (Y/N) smiled. “As long as you give it a chance.”

As soon as they reached the end of the dirt road that took them to the trailhead, Paul took hold of all of the bags before opening the door for (Y/N) and helping her out. And the second she went for a bag, he started walking.

“I just want to help carry something,” she called out with a chuckle as he put distance between them. “I brought most of the things.”

“Why would you have to carry anything when I’m right here?”

“Because I want to help.”

“You’d have to catch up to me to do that,” he smirked, walking backward through the trail. “Which is impossible, so I guess I’m carrying the bags.”

“I don’t even know where we should go,” she laughed, taking off in a small trot to reach him. “This is as far as I thought.”

“Good thing you have the best guide then. I’m as good at moving through the woods as I am at carrying bags.”

“Lead the way then,” (Y/N) smiled.

Paul allowed (Y/N) to catch up to him once she renounced the idea of carrying anything. She followed every step he made, wondering what destination he had in mind. The last time she had even come close to being in the midst of the trees of Washington had been when she was a child. Too many times, little (Y/N), Bella, and the Black children would escape to the woods even when Billy and Charlie had warned them many times not to.

Those were the moments she missed the most. When the only thing they were worried about was having fun and keeping their escapades from their parents. There were no complicated feelings or uncertainty in their relationships. There was no confusion or pain. No ill will or misguided intentions. They were just kids trying their best to make the most out of their summer.

When Paul finally came to a stop, (Y/N) felt a sense that she had been in that very spot before. From the rays that peeked through the treetops that reached each other to create a covering to the flat expanse of grass; from the quiet pond to the rocks that bordered its shore. She could bet almost everything she had on the fact that, if she hadn’t been there, she had seen it before.

“This is perfect,” she found herself muttering. “How did you know about this place?”

“I told you I was the best guide for these woods,” he smirked. “I know all of the best spots in these woods.”

They settled close to the pond, one of the only places the sun shined onto. In the cold of February, the warmth made that place that much more perfect. She straightened the blanket onto the ground, setting the food in one corner and the paint supplies in another, leaving the center empty for them.

(Y/N) sat first, pulling item after item from her backpack, setting them in between her and where Paul sat after. He watched her every move, curiosity filling his eyes. Especially as she handed him a piece of canvas paper and a set of brushes.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked as he eyed the items in his hands. “I can’t paint.”

“You don’t have to know how to paint to just have fun painting,” she offered. “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just get very quiet and in my own head when I paint, so I thought it’d be good for you to have something to do while I basically disappear for a while.”

“I’ll give it a try then,” Paul smiled, taking back the items (Y/N) had reached for. “But you have to promise you won’t laugh at it.”

“I promise.”

The younger Swan had not been lying when she said she got quiet. As soon as her brush hit the canvas and she felt inspiration rush through her, it was as though she was by herself. Her hand moved before thoughts could fill her head. She couldn’t see or hear anything but what was coming to life in front of her. Stroke after stroke, color after color, her painting was the only thing she could think of.

Before (Y/N) knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and her painting was done. As she slowly came back into the present, she looked up for the first time since she had sat down. Paul was staring at her with something in his eyes that was there every time he looked at her. Even if she didn’t know what it was, she knew that it made her feel good.

“Hi there,” he said with a slight chuckle. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’d disappear.”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, growing red with embarrassment. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Nah, you’re good. It was honestly fascinating,” Paul smiled. His brown eyes looked like they were on fire under the orange sun, drawing her in like nothing ever before. “What were you working on?”

“Show me what you did first,” (Y/N) responded, shielding the canvas from his line of sight.

“It will definitely not be as good,” he frowned. “I was not blessed with this kind of artistic talent.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Show me.”

He turned his canvas paper slowly, revealing a painting that was amateurish at its best but still adorable. It seemed he had drawn the view before him. A striking blue pond with vibrant green grass, fluffy trees that met by their branches with thick dark trunks, and what seemed to be the shape of a girl looking down at a piece of paper. Anyone would have thought that a child had done it, but it made (Y/N) smile so hard it made her cheeks hurt.

“Please don’t laugh,” he said sheepishly. “I told you I’m not good at this.”

“No, it’s cute. I love it. I don’t know how, but it’s very you.”

“Very me? You mean painfully childish?”

“Oh god, no!” (Y/N) quickly corrected. “It’s fun, it’s vibrant, it’s… it’s present. Sure, I can tell it’s by a beginner, but it still speaks to the way you view the world. And it’s beautiful.”

“Woah, well, I never thought of it that way. Much less that you could say so much of such a basis painting.” A smile spread across his face as he looked at his work with different eyes. They were kinder now, appreciative of the art he had made. “Now, let’s see yours.”

Once he asked again, she turned the notebook, careful not to smear whatever parts were still wet. Paul’s eyes opened big, and his mouth fell open in amazement. On the sheet, a dark grey wolf howled back at him. Its fur was completed with a mix of yellows and oranges to give it dimension, and its head was raised to the sky as it called out. She didn’t know how she had such a vivid image of a wolf in her mind, but she loved how it had turned out.

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!” Paul exclaimed as he took the notebook to inspect the art closer. “I knew you could paint, but I didn’t know you could paint like a professional.”

“I would hardly call myself a professional,” (Y/N) smiled. “And it’s been years since I’ve actually painted anything. But weirdly enough, I have been able to get the image of this wolf out of my head since I got to Forks.”

“That is weird,” he coughed awkwardly. “But it’s a beautiful painting, (Y/N).”

“Keep it,” she offered. “I will probably paint many more if it’s the only source of inspiration I’ve gotten in a long time.”

“I couldn’t. It’s your work.”

“And I want you to have it,” she insisted. “Please.”

“You’re twisting my hand, but fine,” he said with fake nonchalance. “It’s really good, though, (Y/N). You’re really talented.”

“Thank you, Paul. I’m just glad it’s something that ties me to my mother.”

“What do you mean?”

(Y/N) sighed before she answered. It was a topic she had never brought up to anyone. She had never felt like she could. Not to anyone close to her, at least. “I don’t know,” she breathed. “I guess I’ve always felt like I’ve needed to fight for people’s attention. Especially my parents. Everyone just seems to gravitate toward Bella, and I’m always left in her shadow. As we grew older, I found anything artistic came easy to me, and it’s one of the only things I have over my sister.

“And I know it sounds bad, but it made me feel good that she was bad at it. My mom would always go through some moments when all she wanted to do was paint or knit or whatever, and she’d always look for me when that happened. So, I made sure I would always practice so that she would keep asking me to join her.” (Y/N) could feel tears prickling in her eyes, threatening to spill as she finally said out loud what she had been keeping inside for years. Her head fell as she stared at her fingers, her attention falling on a little piece of skin that had lifted on her thumb. “With my dad, it’s a bit more difficult though. I feel like we get along well, but right now, he’s worried about Bella, and that takes up a lot of space in his mind. And somehow, I just keep falling through the cracks.”

“You should never have to beg for anyone’s attention, (Y/N),” Paul said, wiping away a tear she had not felt fall. “Have you ever told them about this?”

“No,” she answered sheepishly. “And right now, it’s not the best time. Bella seems to be getting better, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize it.”

“But…”

“It’s okay, Paul. Really. I’m used to it by now,” she smiled as she dismissed the topic. “Now, let’s open up that lunchbox. I’m getting kind of hungry.”

She handed Paul one of the sandwiches as she placed the rest of the food and drinks between them. Not many words were exchanged between them as they ate, the boy downing most of the items at a surprising speed.

“So, tell me about your Great Gatsby assignment,” (Y/N) said, breaking the silence. “Maybe I could help you with it.”

“Well, I’m supposed to pick a central theme in the book and write how it’s presented in the story. But I’ve only gotten as far as the cover page, and the paper is due Monday.”

“Paul! You should be at home working on it! You made it sound like you had a lot more time to finish it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Okay, well, I could tell you one of my favorite themes. But I don’t know how interested you’ll be in writing about it.”

“Can’t be any worse than I already have,” he shrugged. “So, go ahead. Tell me about The Great Gatsby.”

“Well, I’ve always found the use of love and romance in the book very interesting,” she started, setting her food down on her lap as she got into what she was saying. “There’s this big debate on whether Daisy actually loved Gatsby, but I don’t think that’s the right question. What we are looking for in the story is whether Daisy loves Gatsby more than she loves wealth and status. Which, spoiler alert, she does not. Regardless of how Tom treats her, she stays with him because of what he can give her. She may have been infatuated with Gatsby, but the second something better came along, she forgot all about him. Until he shows up with money, and suddenly he’s at the top of her list. But new money can never be as strong as old money.

“Now, there’s the question of whether Gatsby is in love with Daisy, which is a completely different side of the same coin,” (Y/N) continued, settling more into her position. “I would say he isn’t. He is in love with this idea of Daisy that she simply is not. She’s cold and materialistic, and she’s only driven by what others can give her. She wants an easy life that she knows she will never get from Gatsby. Sure, he would never hurt her or cheat on her like Tom has, but she can never part with the simplicity she gets by staying with Tom. The Great Gatsby is painted as this unfortunate romance, filled with forbidden love and circumstantial obstacles, but truly it’s about a cunning woman that loves money and excitement more than she loves the men in her life.”

At that moment, (Y/N) didn’t note the irony of the story and how closely it related to her own situation. She didn’t feel like a Gatsby or a Daisy, much less did she see how she had her own version of Tom. But Paul drank each of her words like they were honey spilling from her lips. Not because he particularly cared about the story but because she loved it.

“You know what, you’ve actually convinced me to read the book,” he smiled before taking the last bite of his sandwich. “Don’t know if I’ll finish it by Monday, but I will definitely try.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as a dollop of mayonnaise smeared on his cheek. She tried to point out where it was, but his comically outstretched tongue could not get to where it was. “Here,” she chuckled. She pulled a napkin out of the bag and wiped away the stain as they laughed. “Much bet…”

Suddenly, a rustling startled them, followed by laughter. For a moment, (Y/N) had forgotten that she was in the middle of the woods and that anyone could walk by at any moment. The pair got up on their feet, cautiously following where the sound came from while shielding themselves from view. But nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see.

Bella and Jacob were coming down the trail, walking side by side as they talked and laughed. They had no idea they were being watched at that moment, and they were acting as much. Jake offered Bella his arm after she buckled in her step, and she gladly took it. And all she could think of was how that should have been her; that Bella should not have been the one to be holding onto Jake.

At that point, (Y/N) couldn’t hold her tears back anymore. It seemed that Jacob had decided that their relationship was over, and he was gladly moving on with the person that was closest to her. It made her heart wrench inside of her chest, shattering whatever hope still remained inside her. She didn’t know when it had happened, but her knees gave up on her, and she could only stay up by the hold Paul had on her.

But she couldn’t blame her sister. Not entirely, at least. (Y/N) hadn’t confided in her sister about any of the problems she’d had with Jake, and they had been friends long before (Y/N) had come back to Forks. Still, she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the fact that her sister would lie to her about spending time with her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend?

Paul made a move to walk toward them, possibly to try and confront them, but (Y/N) stopped him, pleading with her eyes to wait until they were gone. “Why didn’t you let me go after them?” the boy asked the second the others were out of view. “Don’t you want to know why he’s been avoiding you and why the hell your sister is with him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sniffled. “Jake made it clear that he didn’t want to be with me if I couldn’t get Embry to leave you guys, and he’s just making good on his promise. And Bella doesn’t even know about all of that. He definitely didn’t tell her.”

“Then, why didn’t you expose him to her? Don’t you want her to know what he did?”

“(Y/N)…”

“Just take me home, please?” she asked. Her eyes were filling with new tears, and her lips quivered as she tried with all her might not to let them fall. “I just want to go home.”

“Alright,” Paul conceded.

They packed everything in silence, the air around them shifting and thickening. Long gone was the comfortable sunny day, now replaced with a coldness that seeped through their bones. All (Y/N) wanted now was to go back home and sink into her bed sheets. Seeing Jacob and Bella together had hurt her a lot more than not seeing him at all.

Next ->

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[pastorfutureletthembe]

Trapped between time and space

Today, I'm going to walk you through my new theory, which is about Cheng Xiaoshi going through the same ordeal than Lu Guang, except for longer, through more repeats.

I brushed the topic over my Curve Theory meta, stating that there was probably a sort of parallel universe or original unchangeable node around Lu Guang's death instead of Cheng Xiaoshi's.

The number of repeats from CXS' perspective is unknown for now, but my bet is on 10; X. 8 is also a repeated number in some official artworks, but never in the XIII format, so I'm ruling the hypothesis that it is related to time/timelines. (My guess is on the number of people with powers, because there are 8 seats on the promotional poster for season 2 and in the THE TIDES)

X marks the spot

Okay, one more time: this poster is a treasure hunt on its own. Beside the V clue, you'll notice 10 clocks. Cheng Xiaoshi underlights the biggest V with his silhouette but his entire body covers X on the smallest clock, while both hands point to X.

On both pictures, you'll find 10 candles on chandeliers (2 more candles are smaller but brighter than others). 8 glasses are on the spooky table while 10 glasses (8 wine glasses + 2 champagne glasses) are used for celebration on the second poster. I'm not the only one, someone else noticed the number 10.

X is often present, either in the background or near CXS specifically:

And I'm probably reading too much into this one but it's too perfect not to mention, since The Tides is mostly empty of clues to explore for now:

5+3 windows on the first floor (Lu Guang's perspective)

10 windows upstairs (Cheng Xiaoshi's perspective).

Anyway, what could it mean? As I argued before, Cheng Xiaoshi could be living through timelines where Lu Guang is dying while Lu Guang was diving from one picture to another to save Cheng Xiaoshi's life, except in two different universes; not inside the same Curve.

Paradox: is LEAVE possible?

Could there be more than two curves? Well, I think it's absolutely possible that the House of the Hothead, as the fandom call them, as a whole or individually, on purpose or by accident, could try and succeed to create yet another one; I'll mark them with VI (Liu Xiao is showing it to us in the artwork above).

I do believe that the Lu Guang we know and the stuck Cheng Xiaoshi are from the same timeline, originally, and keep "missing" each other somehow. They basically created a paradox, fracturing time in two intertwined curves.

Now, what did I say? Cheng Xiaoshi is stuck? Not dead? That's one interpretation of the signs, yes. What is interesting in this fandom is that clues are numbered. Cheng Xiaoshi, the original, is out of time right now, while we're witnesses to Lu Guang's struggles. And we know this... how?

First, LA!Lu Guang has different sets of rules than donghua!LG. It could be narrative error, or it could very much be on purpose. Supposely, the live action is the original timeline and the dongua is the 5th timeline of our Lu Guang's journey. Mistakes were made and rules changed accordingly. Lu Guang appears in the dongua as very composed, except when the timeline he's living in changes from what he knows had to happen.

Canon states: Cheng Xiaoshi keeps not listening to him, risking Lu Guang's hard work. This is what is stressing Lu Guang out the most. He is already changing things, but he needs Cheng Xiaoshi not to touch anything while he's diving. Why? Beside the obvious, if CXS erases one important node, there might be a rupture between then and now, making it impossible for Cheng Xiaoshi to return.

The original Cheng Xiaoshi could be lost in time. This meta suggests as much anyway: CXS's has no hands on some of his clocks, while LG's turn anticlockwise. Lu Guang is going back but Cheng Xiaoshi broke time and is stuck.

Beside clocks, Lu Guang's symbol is the hourglass and Cheng Xiaoshi's is cogs. A hourglass only stops when there is no time left, it's only a pause until it's turned over. Cogs stops when the mechanism stops working altogether. If truly broken, it won't work again. And most of all, one cog is part of a machine, can't function on its own, alone.

BREAK! could refer to Lu Guang's godlike nature and his goal to break CXS free:

I saw my fate flash through my own eyes Waitin' and watchin' for the sign Take control of all the timelines Lost in the dark, Lost in the rush

Go click the parallel line Fate's in control Play your role You ain't just a tool Clock's ticking though

Lu Guang is also pictured steady on a chair, against concrete, or as an safe anchor in the openings/endings.

While Cheng Xiaoshi is not anchored in his surroundings, though, except when holding frames or cameras. The things in contact with him hurts him.

In the Tides, he only interacts with a frame and the red cloth on the table, and with dust; arguably a proof of time, a way to print his presence in a place forgotten by time itself, it seems.

There's the mirror thematic, which might as well be called a glass prison. It shows Lu Guang on the other side, Cheng Xiaoshi seeming to be on "our" side, the side where the story we're following is unfolding. And that's true. Lu Guang is the addition in this universe we are witnessing, he's from outside of the current universe.

However, in Lu Guang's perspective, Cheng Xiaoshi is the one unknowingly prisonner. The artworks are still in Lu Guang's perspective though, his watch is purposely hidden from our view to keep us uncertain on the matter of which side is the "real" one.

Going full circle, I'd say this also can reflects two intertwined curves; never meeting. It wouldn't be about one of them diving in the past to save the other, it would be about both of them trying to find each other again.

Cheng Xiaoshi's and Lu Guang's are happening simultaneously, mirroring each other, trying to respect the timelines as much as possible except for the death of their best friend.

>>> In conclusion, there is actually three sides of a story: Lu Guang's, Cheng Xiaoshi's and the truth. I have no doubt the whole show is making the biggest diversion in history of tvshows by serving us everything but the actual plotline. Some "memory of the week" in season 1, then season 2 told us two can play this game of playing with fate, and now yingdu chapter is going to prepare us for the truth. What is amusing is that each season gives us a set of new "rules" for this universe. (I'll try to make a detailed post about it at some point, after some summer re-watch.) Each rule is usually a forshadowing on what happens next.

Liu Xiao's character is also a very interesting one. Some people suggested that he could be Cheng Xiaoshi or Lu Guang from the future. But he could be from another curve, with a different kind of unchangeable node. He could be a version a Cheng Xiaoshi who never met Lu Guang for example. His goal seems to melt everything into One True Timeline, I think? That alone rises some questions.

~

That's everything for today! I would like to dive even deeper about all the different timeline according to colors but it will probably be a whole other meta.

[xannador]

Thank you!

A big thank you to everyone who got a copy of Mostly (h)Armless! I think that for an obscure little fancomic it did really well! About 30 copies have gone where none can ever take them away again. I've also finally received my own version and I am happy about the quality.

I've now unpublished it but turns out you can never entirely take a book off the store once published. You can't edit it to be something else either. (which is what I had hoped to do, I have a bunch of unpublished original comics lying around). So it's just kinda going to sit there for all eternity, unavailable for sale. I sincerely hope it won't give me problems later on.

Anyway, if anyone is curious about one day printing their own comics, here are a few things I have noticed that I will definitely remember for my future printing endeavors:

Most glow and blending effects like Lighten, Color dodge, Hard Light, Linear dodge (add), etc don't look that nice in print despite looking awesome in digital.

Make your line art thick enough.

soft shading looks bad, cell shading looks good. (But it's better to fully fill shapes with a contrasting color rather than doing fancy lighting.)

Consider shading in black rather than color. (optional)

Details and soft lines are usually lost and a waste of time (Mostly in case of a colored book. Black and white may be different)

Keep panels spaced far enough apart.

Draw big panels. Small panels aren't as nice to look at and the eyes are naturally drawn to the larger panels.

Gradients don't look very nice either. Unless they have a light color.

Vintage comic textures and effects actually looks nicer in print than digital (which surprised me).

In dark scenes, rim lights are essential to make the character pop out. M(h)A would've looked like ass if I hadn't added those.

Stay away from the borders of your page, especially the left and right ones. Not just for the text but for the drawings too.

Keep track of which side of your page will be closest to the spine, keep a distance from that side especially. Because your book will be folded and part of the page will be hidden (the thicker your book, the more will be lost).

fancy panel compositions are cooler in digital...

contrast contrast contrast...

Don't be afraid to use pure black a lot.

Don't be afraid to use white a lot.

The 3D shake effect is also not that cool on print. But looks gorgeous on digital.

To myself… keep the font size consistent…

If text is outside a text bubble, it should have a high contrast stroke

Text should always be high contrast in general.

Motion blur is really cool in digital but not so much on print.

Keep black silhouettes black, avoid adding any kind of subtle glow or texture.

Text bubbles can have color but they should be light (again high contrast) watch out for saturated green or blue or red. Test in greyscale. Contrast should be more than 70%.

Line art should not be colored. Keep it black for print.

Hard borders are better than soft borders. On everything.

white panel borders are better than black panel borders.

But white borders with a black stroke are probably the best (cause more contrast).

Again light colors are better than dark colors. To do dark scenes it might be better to just use black and contrast with a lighter color.

Line art perfection is not that interesting, especially in regards to hard surface shapes like robots. (Might be personal taste though. I enjoyed looking at robots with messier line art more than those where I did perfect brush strokes.)

Beware dark blue and purple...

Compositions and colors of both the left and right page should always fit together. I think I did that pretty well here at least.

If possible make your total amount of comic pages devisable by 4. (so 24 pages total, or 28, or 96, you get the idea) not including the cover and back. Or else add a little extra drawing to fill the remaining pages.

I think that's about everything I can see based on my own print. I'm sure that a fair few of the things that I found looking worse in print than digital could be resolved by just being... better at converting your files. There's the whole CMYK color mode thing but in my personal experience that has been such a pain to work with, and each time my prints looked worse attempting to convert the file rather than had I just left it in RBG and let the printer do the guessing work for me.

So if you're like me and you're hopeless at this technical mumbo jumbo printing stuff, I think just avoiding the things I mentioned while drawing should get you well under way to having a nice print. The most important thing to remember is that digital and physical media are two entirely different beasts and if you are interested in getting your comics printed it's easier to adapt your workflow to that from the start rather than going back and altering. A lot of the mistakes I made here are rookie ones and I should have known better. But it's very easy to get lost in the process once you've started. I hope to improve my next print significantly. Once I can make RBG look good, I might try CMYK again.... Maybe. Potentially. No.

Hope these tips can be of service to somebody. They'll be a useful archive for myself in any case. If anyone wants me to elaborate more on a specific point, I'm happy to explain.

[k-s-morgan]

Hey, I was re-reading ATLWETD when I noticed something so obvious in this paragraph that I stupidly didn't notice the first time.

"Riddle was taller than him, so now his lips were almost brushing against Harry’s forehead. 

“I don’t need to live in a Muggle world to own someone,” he murmured. Belatedly, Harry realised why he was standing so close — he didn’t want others to overhear his outrageous statements. “You should know this. After all, you know me better than anyone.”"

He wasn't gloating only about the death eaters, like Harry thought, he was mostly referring to the Horocrux situation and their own really unique relationship (also, the fact he almost kisses the scar as he speaks made me scream).

Will we see more moments like this in the next chapters?? (If you don't want to spoil us, just ignore this part.)

This all brings me to the actual question: Harry replies:"It’s because I know you that I’m not going to entertain your disturbing fantasies,” he said. Somehow, he managed to sound less harsh than he intended. “No matter what loyalty anyone promises you, it is not infinite. If you treat people who pledged themselves to you cruelly, they are not going to stay. I saw it happen. And by the rate you’re going, I think it might happen again.”

What the hell did Tom assume from this reply? And most importantly, what assumptions did he make about the connection between Harry and fake!Tom based on this answer?

Hoping the best for you and your loved ones in these hard times <333

Hi! Thank you <3 I'm glad that you saw the second meaning of Tom's words. It was related to how Tom envisions their relationship and to the Horcruxes both.

The more Tom imagines what life he and Harry might have had, the more feelings and desires are born in him. He's certain that Harry was his in every way and that he had absolute control over him because in his eyes, that's the only possibility for them to have a relationship. This is what he began to want now, so he's sure that any other version of him must have wanted the same. Harry cannot relate to it, ownership doesn't interest him, so he didn't fully comprehend what Tom meant.

I cannot say specifically what kind of moments of closeness and possessiveness we'll get because I never plan these things, they pop up by themselves as I write! But there will definitely be a lot of them))

As for your second question, Tom and Harry are having somewhat different conversations here. Harry is talking purely about Tom's followers, Tom is talking about them and about his bond with Harry at the same time. Harry's words made him think that he lost the devotion of some of his Death Eaters in that other reality, but most importantly, he contemplates the fact that his attitude cost him Harry. He doesn't know the specifics, but he thinks that his insanity pushed Harry away and resulted in him being snatched into some other world. Harry doesn't seem to be actively trying to go back to it, which Tom considers as another proof of their broken bond. In his mind, with their connection, Harry would have to be obsessed with reuniting with 'his' Tom. Since he isn't, it means that the other Tom failed him so much that Harry is now more interested in building something new with his other version.

Tom is confident that he'll be a better partner. At the same time, while he places Harry above everyone else, he doesn't see him as his equal, and he cannot imagine a relationship without any violence and control in it. He thinks Harry mostly accepts it, only that 'his' Tom overdid it because of the Horcruxes. So after Harry's reply, Tom's trying to assure him him that some violence is an inherent part of a relationship, and that he's in his right mind, so he'll know how to keep a balance between violence and fondness - basically, that he'll succeed in being a leader that Harry (and the others) would be glad to respect and follow both in 'professional' and personal capacities.

This probably sounds a little messy, but Tom's mind is still reeling from all the (fake) revelations, so he cannot always settle on a specific picture) It keeps changing.

[eddiemunsonw]

Library visits

PART 1 - PART 2

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Summary: You see a familiar face coming in your place of work (the library), and you aren't too thrilled about it at first. However, sometimes a familiar face can be full of surprises too.

CW/Disclaimer: None, I think? Mention of death, maybe that?

Author's note: I was in need of some cute shit, though this is mostly just the build up towards the cute shit

Words: 2332

You inhaled deeply, ready to sigh tiredly when a coughing fit took that opportunity away. With all the dusty books around you, it was no surprise that your lungs were in desperate need for some fresh air.

Only recently you had started to sort out the really old books to see which ones needed some slight fixing. Which meant opening them up, as well as dusting them off. It wasn’t like the library you worked at was a musky place or anything, there was just this old section that rarely got any attention. Up until now, at least.

After putting some books back on the bottom shelf for the time being, you decided to take a break and have some tea. However, the moment you got up also became the moment you fell down again. You heard a voice apologize and you sighed, brushing yourself off as you plastered on a smile before greeting the guy.

“I’m so sorry— I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine don’t worry ab—”

There was no way.

None other than Gator Tillman was staring you down and you felt the insufferable need to swallow. And cough some more, because of the dust that settled somewhere in your lungs. He looked pretty much the same as he had in high school, just ten years older. The most distinct difference was probably his hair, which had lost the slicked back look he used to have. Instead, it was a bit wild and messy, but in a good way. Who knew his hair could actually have this much volume if not slicked back with endless amounts of gel? As you got up, you noticed he awkwardly stuffed his hand back into his pocket, as if he had wanted to help you back up.

As if. 

You smiled politely at him with some effort, and when he returned your smile it confused you a bit until you realized. He did not remember you. Which was unsurprising, but still annoying enough to make you drop your smile instantly, much to his confusion. You had no energy for this today, none at all. Just as you decided to walk past him, he quickly spoke up.

“Uh— I’m actually uhm, looking for a book?”

His voice came out a little strained, as if asking for help physically pained him. You slowly turned back around.

“You, need a book?” The condescending tone wasn't hard to miss, and you kind of hated yourself for it but you couldn’t help it. That guy had never touched a book in his life. Apart from porn magazines and comics, maybe.

“Yeah…? Do you— do you not work at the library?”

He looked around and then back to the name card that was pinned to your chest, as if he needed to make sure he wasn’t in the wrong place or something, asking the wrong person.

He definitely asked the wrong person, regardless of the fact that you worked here.

“Yes.”

“Okay…” he breathed deeply, taking one step forward causing you to automatically take one step backwards. A twitch in his brow conveyed his slight annoyance.

“I’m looking for… Princess Ella.”

“Princess Ella?” You asked, blinking a few times.

“Do you have it?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his impatience.

“Yeah… not sure if we have it on hand though.”

“Oh. Can you—”

“I’ll check.”

Gator hesitated on following you but ended up doing so anyway when he realized you were walking towards the other side of the library. His eyes followed your movements in silence as you scanned the shelves.

“Did you look here?” you asked when you spotted the book.

“Uh— no I just… asked.”

“I see. Here,” you said as you pulled the book out of the row and handed it to him. “This the one? Princess Ella is a series, this is the first.”

Gator frowned as he took the book from you and took in the cover.

“I think so…”

“What do you need it for, anyway?” It was out before you knew it. You’d normally never speak to a customer like that, however curiosity took the better of you. Gator seemed taken aback by the question and his soft expression turned sour.

“None of your business. So, do I check out? How does it work?”

“Do you have a library card?”

“No.”

“Then you’ll have to get one of those first. There are several plans, depending on how many books you want to borrow a year—”

“How the fuck would I know how many books I’m gonna borrow?”

“You take a guess.”

“Are you always this friendly to new customers?”

“I tend to be friendlier.”

“Then what did I do?”

“If only you knew, right?”

“Yeah, I’d love to know actually.”

“Shucks.”

Gator seemed ready to storm out the building. His need for the book seemed to trump that desire though.

“I’d like a library card, please. The middle plan or whatever.”

“There are actually four—”

“Just get me a goddamn card, woman!”

His patience long gone gave him more of that spicy hostility he naturally carried around him in school. Demanding he’d get what he wanted and if people didn’t want to dance to his demands, he’d make them. This persisted during his jock “career”. After his accident, he lost most of his bite. Kept to himself, struggled to graduate now that he was fully reliant on studying rather than being a good quarterback.

“Alright… I’ll just give you the second tier, then. You can always up your subscription, should you need more.”

Gator watched you as you calmly entered his name into the computer, screen turned a little so he could watch along.

“Wait… how’d you—”

“I need your date of birth, please.”

“Uh… April 2nd. 1995.”

“Alright… address?”

Dumbfounded, he gave you his home address, phone number and email. He was still looking at you, trying to figure you out.

“There you go,” you said once the card was done and you handed it to him.

“Thanks… but how?”

You shrugged.

“You introduced yourself earlier.”

“I didn’t… Did I?”

Clearly doubting himself, you decided to keep it at that. You figured it was better than explaining the alternative. There was no need. You checked out the book for him and before you knew it, he was on his way. The curiosity on why he needed this particular book lingered.

—

Two weeks later

Today had been a day of many returns. There were usually quite a few, but it felt like the amount had quadrupled this time. Somewhere behind you, you heard the familiar sound of the sliding doors opening. A person stomped in, presumably straight for the counter.

When the little bell on your desk was slammed on, you were certain.

“Hello?”

It didn’t register for you that it was him this time, the voice being too far away and muffled by the soft music you had playing in your ears. As you hurried over, you saw Gator waiting for you, book in hand.

“Hi,” you greeted him. He was wearing a scowl, as if you had done him wrong long before he even entered the building.

“They want the second part, do you have it?”

Gator pushed the book he previously checked out towards you, his library card on top.

“I’ll check.”

“Yeah, you go do that. Also, why didn’t you just say you knew who I was last time?”

“Huh?”

Gator frowned and crossed his arms. You imagined he tapped his foot impatiently.

“It took me a moment, but I remember you now. Why pretend?”

You hesitated. Did he really not know? He never outright bullied you, but he had made some snide remarks in passing. The usual stuff. Loser. Nerd. Nothing extreme, but him being a jock caused others to agree with his statements easily. And that sucked.

“I… You weren’t exactly nice to me back then, Gator.”

Gator groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face, his other arm falling to his side.

“So? It’s been what? Ten years? A lot can change in ten years.”

It was your turn to cross your arms this time. Easy for him to say. 

“A lot can also stick around for ten years.”

Gator noticed your expression and shook his head.

“Fuckin’ tell me about it. You listen to your dad calling you a waste of space, a loser, a failure all the fuckin’ time and have everyone else abandon you ‘cause they think you’re too much like the guy.”

“That’s no excuse to treat others badly though? I always thought you wanted to be just like him. Surely acted like it,” you huffed. Gator flinched, just slightly. He rested his palms upon the counter and shook his head.

“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t. I used to think becoming like him would be the only way for him to treat me… differently, I guess. When I got injured it turned me into someone I hated. But I also didn’t know who else to be… Why am I even—”

He shook his head, regret seeping in quickly at oversharing his thoughts and he pinched the bridge of his nose to shake off the overwhelming feelings. He avoided your gaze and never finished his sentence, probably hoping you’d fill the silence. You had no idea how to respond, so instead you moved away from the counter to go find the book he needed. Gator hesitantly followed, two steps only, before he spoke again.

“I’m different, is all I’m tryin’ to say, I guess.”

You turned around and found his expression to carry some desperation. As if you believing him was very important to him. Someone he didn’t even remember last time. You nodded slowly, then continued to walk.

“I guess it makes sense for you to not believe me. And uh… sorry for, uh, whatever I said. I’m sure it was… bad. It’s kind of a blur for me, but I know I wasn’t… good.”

The book was easy to find, though you took your sweet time as you tried to think of a response.

“Sorry. I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“Gator, I—”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to accept my apology. I know. That’s— I learned I can’t expect that stuff… my therapist used to say so.”

His eyes focused on his shoes. It was impossible to look at you now. Vulnerability was still very hard for him to adjust to. Hesitantly, you grabbed his hand so you could put the book in and then held onto it a little longer.

“I do accept your apology,” you said softly, making him look up at last.

“You do?”

“Mhm. On one condition,” you added, smiling softly. “Tell me, who are the books for?”

Gator smiled as he stuffed his hands into his pockets after tucking the book under his arm. He gently kicked his own foot with his own and took a moment to reply.

“They’re for my little neighbors. Two twin girls. I sometimes babysit them when their mom is at work and apparently they were really into this series.”

“Oh, so they’ve read it before? Don’t have it at home?”

Gator shook his head.

“No, uh, they do. Have it at home. I just…” Gator scratched the back of his neck as a blush crept on his cheeks. “I wanted to… practice? I sound so monotone when I read things, so I thought, if I know it by heart then I could just tell it without really having to read it, you know? Wanted to be a better storyteller I guess. I have no idea if they’d even notice the difference but—”

“I’m sure they do. That’s so…” cute. “Sweet of you.”

“You think?” Gator’s eyes were big, almost… hopeful. When you nodded, a shy smile spread on his face.

“How old are they? The twins.”

“Six.”

“That’s a fun age.”

“They’re real menaces, I’ll tell ya that. But they’re also adorable.”

He held the book in front of him now, holding onto it with both hands. Then, he remembered. With a little “oh”, he took the library card out of his pocket and handed it to you.

“Here.”

You chuckled softly.

“I almost forgot. And that when I gave you such a hard time to get a library card last time…” you mumbled softly as you scanned his card. Gator shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t being nice either, not remembering you at first and stuff.”

“I’ll admit that was a little annoying of you,” you told him with a smile.

Gator suddenly barked out a soft laugh in disbelief.

“A little? You were trying to kill me with your gaze!”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were all like…” Gator mimicked your expression from last time and you gently pushed his shoulder.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you laughed, and you were surprised how easy it was to smile with him now. He seemed to have the same realization at that time as you watched his gaze soften.

“You have a nice laugh,” Gator blurted, although he had attempted to say something else. He swallowed, blinked quickly. “I mean, it’s nice no longer being on your bad side.”

“Hm. I agree,” you told him softly. “It’s nice indeed. The- The last bit.”

“The first bit too, come on.”

“Maybe… I’ll think about it,” you mused and he smiled.

It was then when other customers came in, breaking the gentle spell between the two of you. Gator held your gaze for a moment, then looked away and put his card back into his pocket.

“I should go.”

“See you when you’re ready for the next part, I suppose?” you asked softly.

Gator smiled and gave you a nod.

“Yeah. See you soon. The books aren’t that thick, so,” he attempted at a joke.

You laughed as if it was really funny. It was kind of funny. Just not that funny. But it made him beam, made his eyes squint as he smiled at you, which made it worth it.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Dofus Novel 4, The Thirsty Beheader

I apologize for my absence. Translating this novel has burned me out from the fandom in a pretty major way, and I also got into a different fandom in the meantime and am, like, three 4k word chapters deep into a longfic for said new fandom. Besides that, I had a depressive episode and went insane for a while. Basically, I've been a bit busy.

At the same time I release this post, I have uploaded the new, updated versions of both translations (since this liveblog is mostly a reason for me to reread and fix stuff) to MEGA and VK, so I recommend you download the new versions!

I will mostly be copying the text directly, to bypass tumblr's image restriction, but some screenshots will be provided. For example:

If pride is a sin, then the typesetting and cleaning I went through with this book will have me go to hell after I die. (I don't think I'm a master, but I did a pretty good job, ok?)

A cart had just entered the District of the Lost Steps. It stopped in front of the store, as two Srams* got out.

I love the internal consistency of the street being named here. Thank you, author of this book, for caring.

“Are you sure about this,” asked the little guy, “Is this really the right place?” “Yeah,” replied the tall one, “There aren't thirty-six Shushu* houses in the neighborhood.”

LMAO this is something Kerubim is actually known for, huh?

At the time that this book takes place in, joris can't read very well. Cute...

Also, hehe... I am pretty proud of the way this part of the book was cleaned + the font + the layers and colors and opacity I applied to the text, to make it fit in with the paper.

^^^ This is me btw, during this entire post. ^^^

The entirety of the epilogue and prologue are typed on top of cleaned backgrounds sourced from the scan. The rest of the book is typed in front of a digital background. This artistic choice was made because....... You can't set different pages to be different colors in word. You have to overlay some image or a textbox, if you want a page to be a different color.

Anyway — I had a lot of fun searching for the fonts from this book! (and far less fun searching for appropriate fonts for the Russian translation since none of the fonts this book uses have cyrilic versions...)

The fonts this book uses are: Dimbo, Chelsea Market, and Aleo. Google them for all your Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim related needs.

The fonts I chose to use in the russian translation are: Brydan Write, Correction Brush, Curinn, and Itim. I just had to make do with what I had, ok?

“My Papycha said it's urgent!” exclaimed Joris, “He could be in danger. Maybe he's being attacked by the Thirsty!” Even Pupuce looked worried. Simone reread the message, thinking out loud: “The Huffing Bow Wow tavern is in the Pandawa district... There's plenty of bamboo milk there. Maybe the neighborhood is overrun by the Thirsters?” “And soon, the whole city will be under attack!” concluded Joris.

Nobody knows how to escalate a situation better than a 7yo with anxiety. God bless <3

The Ecaflip goes full "war machine" mode: he cuts and slices through the living dead for the entire night, and when the golden disk of the sun finally rises over the horizon, the scenery is carpeted with the Thirsty. The region is saved. Kerubim becomes a legend. To thank him, the local lord offers him the... “Hey... Joris? Are you listening?” asked Simone. She began shaking the boy, who, abruptly snapping out of his reverie, mumbled: “Huh? What?”

Joris is so normal. So sane.

“Bye-bye,” added Bowiknif. But Luis slammed the door in their faces, roaring: “You're not going anywhere!” “Oh yeah?” hissed Bakstab, “Is that so?” “Would you like us to chop up your friends with a Brakmarian steel sword of Chouque?” questioned the other, “Or with Samuel J. Axe?” Luis muttered what sounded like a string of expletives, before reluctantly opening the door to the two robbers, who bolted out without further ado.

I'm LITERALLY fucking insane about this.

“I'm sorry,” said Luis, “I tried to hold them back, but...” “We know, we saw everything,” the girl cut him off, “You did your best, Luis.”

Actually deranging. Also explains why Luis did fuckall about Sipho, Harebourg, and Ush — there's just not much he can actually do.

She spotted a Dragoturkey standing near a trough. In two strides, she reached the animal, untied it, and climbed onto its back like an experienced Dragogirl*. “Let’s go!” she said to the boy.

This once again raises a some questions about Simone's past — when did she learn how to ride dragoturkeys? Is it the same reason why she knows how to fight, at least a little?

Then again, maybe she's just being an Osamodas here.

I love, love, love the Simone&Joris content in this book. Their bond is so important to me... She's the aunt who stepped up.

This art is so nice...

They had run like mad through half the city, arrived at the wrong address, turned back just as a thunderstorm broke out, wandered around in the rain in the Pandawa district, and FINALLY arrived at the Huffing Bow Wow Tavern, a large, long building with a thatched roof.

They're so fucking stupid. I love them.

“Ah, there you are!” called out Kerubim, “I almost thought you’d make me wait some more!”

I wish english also had the phrase "I almost thought you'd be late" as a cunty response when someone's an hour or three late to an event. I don't think the english translation I made conveys the sheer frustration.

Kerubim raised an eyebrow — a perfect copy of the circumflex accent:

I struggled with this part a lot in russian sjfkgdfg. It made me nerd out a little bit too.

I didn't have a lot of comments here, but eh. It was nice to finally get this over with dfjgkdsfg.

[nardos-primetime]

first thing that pops up on my for you page from your blog:

i am so lost from where this guy came from. is this an au? also i am extremely jealous of their hair, i want it for no good reason. lmfao sorry for the weird question/ask.

He's from a newer au I haven't talked about yet! Don't feel weird for asking at all!

The whole au is like. Heavily inspired by Cyberpunk 2077 (a guilty pleasure of mine), it could technically be a crossover au, I guess? I dunno, but I'm lazy/like to do stuff for fun, so certain aspects are obviously going to be changed. I'm not totally settled on designs, but I think I'm gonna keep most of the design aspects from this drawing for the "finalized" concepts.

The main plot centers on Casey Jr being put under the care of the turtles by "Mother" soon after having a whole (unwilling) relic insert situation in his brain, leading to former star Lou Jitsu to be revived within his mind!

The issue is that all of the turtles aren't really. The best father figures. None of them even want anything akin to a child, and even if Casey is 19, these guys are Mercs. Outside of their own clubbing and shows they do gigs for cash, including dangerous ones, ESPECIALLY dangerous ones. Having this new guy is like, a total roadblock, especially because Casey still, somehow, despite Night City's clutches and the last group he was pressured into before this, has some morals about him. The only reason they didn't kill him and stage an accident is because Mother promised them financial compensation for caring for him.

So he's stuck with four new "dads" who mostly all hate him or find him annoying, and Lou is not any different, he also finds him naive but he dislikes the turtles as well because he's a jaded old fuck (major hypocrite, too).

While the turtles are baseline all mercenaries, they share some traits between each other instead of leaving it to a "one guy only" job in most cases.

Donnie has the most technical skill, falling mostly under Techie and Net/Edgerunner, he adores tech after all, he also has illegally dabbles in being a ripperdoc, primarily for his brothers.

Mikey is actually the fallback for general medical issues, including those involving backfiring implants. He's only better at this because he's dabbled in researching (and using) tons of remedies, mainly for pain. He's the guy who's helped Donnie when working on inserting implants in the others. He's even stayed awake during his own surgeries to help Donnie during his fuck ups and implants.

Leo, while not extreme netrunner levels, does hold some hacking knowledge, just what he needs to make things a little easier with anything but combat most of the time, as combat is what he enjoys the most within jobs. He also tends to be the one to make their deals with Mother.

Raph is mainly muscle. Not to say he's simple, it's just his main role and main focus, having grown much more protective over the years, often acting as a bodyguard for the others during their own shows (hence he has the least involvement with any of their music). He's the least of the bad influences for Casey, at least directly.

They used to have another member of the group a few years ago, a media. Or a media wannabe, at least.

They normally have some reference to her, even if small, hidden within their shows.

This is all, of course, not tapping into their mystics, which are a bit different in this au as well with how they work. Lets just say Mother allows them special permissions when it comes to mystic usage.

...at least those are some of the basic ideas I've been throwing around in my head for the story, lol. I like to throw ideas at the wall and see what sticks to me. The whole thing is technically a wip still but so are 90% of my aus tbh lmao, this onrs just a lot more wippy because it's mainly a "for fun" au and I also haven't been able to play cyberpunk for myself to brush up on things outside of research and sometimes a man is just... not up for that, especially lately with my attention span, I hope to brush up a little more again sometime soon and maybe even delve into some aspects from the og ttrpg perhaps, I'm not sure yet, though, haha.

Oops long post, huh? My bad </3

[syaolaurant]

Hogwarts Legacy inspired me to draw and have fun joining fandom again 

Warning: Long!!! and this is just my random talk.

I've been using this account for 3 years now (may be 4, I don't remember correctly). I created this blog mostly for posting my The Arcana fanart, and get to know very talented artists/writers and their Apprentices. That time was super fun, joining a fandom helped my drawing/water-coloring skill improve a lots. And another reason why I was so active at that time is because I was in a long-distance relationship, I didn't have much to do after work except playing games and draw, haha, like everyday. 

And then after 8 years of dating we broke up, because I could not leave everything behind and come to Australia to live with him without marriage. I quitted my job at a travel agency after the covid 19 second outbreak in Vietnam. Anyway, that is when I lost my willing to draw. I still logged on Tumblr thou, occasionally, but I just didn't have the feeling to hold my brushes again. At the same time Nyx Hydra was acquired by Dorian, The Arcana is not the same anymore. I still love the original story but I refuse to play the new stories on Dorian app. The fandom friends I know on Tumblr also deactivated. So I stopped drawing & left the fandom for almost 2 years.

Still I was lucky, early 2021 I found a new job in gaming industry, and met my husband there. It didn't take us several years to decided to get marriage. Last year was super busy, and I still play games, like alots. Genshin Impact, Baldur Gate 3, Red Dead 2, Tiny Tina's Wonderland...They're wonderful, but none of those ignited my willing to draw again. I couldn't explain , I tried to make fanart but always left the piece unfinished...

Until last month my husband bought me Hogwarts Legacy.

I've known about the game since its release, but didn't purchase it until this year due to my personal schedule and I wanted to finish other game first. Playing HL is different, like I see my 15 year old self stepping into the world I wish I could be there but couldn't. I was so excited! So many time I ran around the castle (casting revelio repeatedly and) shouting to my husband about how beautiful the environment is. And I met Sebastian, I thought he's cool but still didn't pay much attention on him until he took me to Felcroft. And all the shadow questline, all the lost and tragedies, the unfinished ending (why Avalanche?). So it has been decided, I wanted to be a part in this fandom, there are so many things could have been added in the game but the dev decided to throw them away, I needed to pick up my pencil and brushes.

And I'm glad I did. It's been 2 years since I joined a fandom and I almost forgot how fun it is. I've met so many nice artists who warmly welcomed me, and whose fanarts are too good that push me to improve my own drawing. I've read many beautiful fanfics that made me sobbing and giggling. It's like I've found the feelings I lost, and I want to thank you all for that.

Damn this post is too long already....

What I tried to say is, I don't know how long I will be here until my personal life pull me away again. But right now I'm on fire and I'm happy HL took me back here. After all I appreciate seeing you guy's contents everyday, and your nice comments whenever I posted something on Tumblr. I hope you don't mind if I post everything on this blog not only HL but also abit of my personal life, I just don't see the need to create another side ones. To end this post, here's the view from my company windows :"D

[obscuremantisman]

man, i've lost idea of what i was writing, i'm just feeling like writing bout an old siren male reader. Would you guys like that?

Anyways, have this, some more of my random thoughts about Eyeless Jack, with a small scenario with you, i guess.

⪧ I appreciate criticism, ideas, and your opinions. ⪦

I feel like Jack's ritual proceeded with him getting shaved, thus why his eldritch form would be pretty much hairless.

He was unconscious, drugged hard so as not to struggle against the horrors he'd pass. But he shot up, he woke up to the pain inside his eyes, hot tar mixed with blood escaping his eyelids and burning his cheeks as he agonized.

He was cold, naked, and scared, the chains holding him down as he contorted and sparmed to get free. His screams echoed through the place as the cultists rushed to hold him down. He could hear them whisper among each other, this wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

Those were the last words that Jack Nyras heard, "We have to continue! we don't know if our master won't be back this way! Just-.." Before he was consumed by the pain and fell into the arms of death.

I honestly feel conflicted about how Eyeless Jack is mostly portrayed, i hate it more than i like it. He is so.. so cutesy? so casual, so, so very human (spooky).

He was human in the far past, and the whole ritual gives me the idea that he'd become numb towards his old self if he could ever remember anything about it.

What is that weird black around him that looks like a hoodie? It's his skin. One of my interpretations it's that the cultists poured hot tar mixed with blood not only on Jack's eyes, but on his body too. Whatever entity was trying to possess Jack, was shaping him from inside out as it tried to accomodate, using that mixture put on his body and fusing it to Jack's skin. It shaped his claws, it furthened his senses. Then the ritual stopped, the entity had left the unfit vessel, Jack woke up, woke up to hunger, woke up to fear, breaking out of his chains and feeling the primal instict for survival.

Although i think like that, i also think that the Eyeless Jack with a hoodie looks very cool, i love the idea of eldritch beings with casual clothing in general, and a hoodie does matches Jack.

But sadly i don't think any hoodie or pants is strong enough for that thing. He'd ruin any clothing in the span of hours to days.

Jack would probably look awkward in clothes too, i can imagine him act quite goofily while wearing them as it's such a weird experience for him. It'd rub agaisnt his skin as he moves, and it'd tingle his senses with the new sensations.

If you were to put somehow a shirt around Jack, you'd find yourself probably stifling a laugh at the way he looked in them. He'd be in a tense stance, feeling the fabric around with his claws, slowly creating holes on it while trying to figure out what in the world is that thing.

And apparently, the little tag on the shirt rubbed the back of Jack's neck in the wrong way few seconds later into his investigation. Which got him to be desperately hissing and clawing at the back of the shirt. You wouldn't be able to even do a thing because he'd be too agitated, his sharp claws going all around, but don't fret, it's not necessary for you to intervene. He's already shredded the shirt into pieces by the time you've opened your mouth to offer help.

I think it's neat that one headcanon that Eyeless Jack is actually able to remember about his past, like in most versions. It gives a little more of humanity to him, an extra layer of complexity that i don't think is explored enough and is just brushed off like nothing.

I feel like he'd be so different from his human counterpart since he's literally a newborn eldritch abomination. Like, the moment he woke up, it wouldn't really matter if he did have memories from the past or not.

One thing i see is the fact that people like to give Eyeless Jack some insecurities, which is neat, but the only real scenario of insecurity i can imagine that this thing would have is if he were to have a human companion. And if you're curious about what the insecurity would be, it'd be because of his smell. No, it's not because he eats humans nor his looks, he can't see nor can i even begin to imagine this dude having an existent patience to be docile to a human that actually cares about what's on his menu.

Oooo i forgot to talk his face! I just love the way he can be just anything behind that mask, but i most definitely do not think it's a hot dude behind it. I also don't have a fully formed view on how it is, but i like to imagine it to be haunting, worn out, a tragic tale of the past being told in his simple complexion. The people who draw him alien-like have a special place in my heart, for sure. Lots of teeth? funky teeth? an abnormal mouth? disgusting black goo that spills from time to time from a funky face? weird long sharp tongue? i looove it and i eat it up every damn time.

And the last subject i'd like to touch is about Eyeless Jack, what do i think it would be of him if he was able to somehow form a bond with someone? and what if it was you? yeah, it's impossible, bye. But on an actual note, you'd have to somehow survive against him, much like Mitch did. god i hate that guy, why is he canon?

Your relationship would start off as the expected, the prey and the predator, Jack trying to shred you into pieces and you escaping each damn time like a rascal. With a very, very long time that relationship subtly became friendlier. Jack would come around to stay in the kitchen, sniffing the air as you cooked, to steal your bed as rain poured outside and the weather dropped colder, and to in rare ocasions, drop by a few organs for you. He has tried to get you into eating these little gifts. Hisses, growling and teeth clanking definitely not convincing you in the slightest. Jack still happens to come around to hunt you, but those are rarer and they are definitely lazy attempts as the scars around your body from such encounters are lighter than others. Jack thinks of you as his human pet and you think of him as your eldritch pet, you two simply accepting the existence of each other.

Sorry for the big delay, i'm not in the epic writing mood, got lots of ideas in head.