#my friend told me her tumbler was pretty

[5uwabbit]

First post? ~w~ I don’t know how tumblr works, please be patient with me

[kaciebello]

hi, can you make a Draco Malfoy x Slytherin (female) reader please?

also, I'm really sorry about your chameleon!!

Drunken confessions

Masterlist Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Summary: Draco has a crush, and as a typical teenage boy, he has no idea how to deal with it. Warning: none author note: Sorry it took so long, this is way overdue. Also sorry it is so short but I felt like if I added more it would ruin it a bit. But I'm gonna be honest, I don't think you come to me for long fics. Btw if you see the pictures under each other and not next on pc, I am sorry, tumbler is tripping a bit. Word count: 1k Song: In My Dreams - Red Velvet

Slytherins were a proud house. Sometimes, they are too proud for their own good. But it’s not like somebody is going to tell them otherwise, and let's be honest, they are not going to listen to Rawenclar of Hufflepuff, and certainly not Grifindoor. Draco was aware of his pride and was proud of this too. There was just one person who would humble him any chance they got.

Sitting across him in the common room was a girl he despised. She was getting on his nerves just the way she smiled. She shared the same circle of high-up Slytherins as him, so he couldn't get rid of her. he tried once, but was shot down by the whole group. Sure, was he in another house, his friends might have said he had a crush on the girl. but he is a proud Slytherin, so he will never admit that out loud. Athou if you were to ask Matteo, he sure has a video of Draco crying hysterically over his crush.

it was only a short time before everyone returned to their own bedrooms. Draco stayed behind, finding himself nauseous when getting up. He was sitting there, nursing a small glass of water and staring at nothing with a blank expression. he could feel the sofa dip next to him but he could not be bothered. It’s when he feels a tap on his shoulder that he lifts his head.

There she sat next to him, flashing her pearly whites at him as if she wanted to blind him. His own smile crept on his face as he looked at her. God, he was whipped. She didn't say anything and Draco couldn't figure out if he was hallucinating. He didn’t want her to disappear. The girl let out a sigh.

“What are you doing here? It’s late. Why don’t you go to bed?” she says, looking all over his face for any sigh of exhaustion, or worse, some kind of mischievous spell.  Draco did not answer. Instead, he rested his head on the back of the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The girl didn’t say anything like she was expecting him to be a moody teenager.

He could feel her take his class and place it on the table in front of them. He could smell her perfume every time she moved and it drove him crazy. She made herself comfortable. Arms resting on the back of the sofa looking at him, her legs thrown over his lap. Dracos put his hands on them without even thinking about it.

“Can I have a question? “ She says. draco turns his his head so they are face to face.

“shoot”

“what are we?”

“unshoot” a gentle laugh leaves her as he answers.

Silence falls upon them. To others, it might have been awkward, but to them, it felt comforting. If Draco had to put any labels on them, he would write giant ‘ simp ‘ in a red marker on his face. She would be a goddess, of course. He turns to her again. She's looking at him with eyes full of curiosity.

“Ya know,” he starts, “I don't think I've ever told you this. But you’re lowkey pretty.” “Lowkey?”

“Yea okay, highkey.” Be blurs out. She again laughs. A sound that Draco swore he would hear at the pearly gates one day.

“Well, I'm glad you think I’m pretty. I would be pretty bumped if my crush thought I'm ugly.” She says. draco just hums, not really paying attention to her words. His eyes keep jumping between her eyes and lips. The girl just sighs again.

“Come one big guy, let's get you to bed.”  She makes a move to get up but Draco is not letting her move. A brilliant idea came to his mind and he felt like he was going to die if he did not execute it right at this moment.  He moved her close to his, as much as he could. One hand sneaked around her waist and the other around her neck. He leaned in so close that he could feel her breath on her face. Even up close he found her so pretty, it almost made him cry.  She was looking at him. Watching him studying her as if he was trying to engrave her face in his memory. She wanted him to move, she wanted him to close the gap between them, but alas he wouldn't move. Seemingly in his own world, with no way in.

So she did it for him. Only for a split second, Draco felt her lips on his. He was left chasing after her when she moved away. A small whine left him as well. He stayed there looking at her, a pout forming on his lips as if she had just stolen his last piece of candy.

“Ya know, I lowkey like you,” he says, very proud of his confession. His brain drifted away again as he locked his eyes on her lips once more.

“ I like you too, dummy.” She says back, playing with his hair softly. draco let out a hum as that was the only thing he needed to hear before locking their lips again. He leaned her back so she lay flat on the sofa. He separated them for a second.

“You know, this is not just a drunken confession. I don't do those.” He says and goes to kiss her again. She stops him with her hand on his chest. A wide smile on her face melted Draco's heart away.

“You meant like that one time you told me about how you slipped naked in the perfect bathroom and slid from one end to the other on your butt?”

“I told you that in confidence!” He whines and hides his face in her neck. She can only laugh.

[theoldsports]

| Irish Coffee |

summary: twenty four was the wrong age for everything, except maybe picking up girls in bars at the holidays. Rafe Cameron x Reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: bars, alcohol, passing mention of sexual assault, death of a parent mention.

Rafe Cameron hated karaoke. It was shitty ego-stroking from typically the very intoxicated or the very tone deaf. He didn’t think anyone ever felt good about their performances on that rinkydink stage anyway. It was unpleasant for everyone involved. Truth be told, Rafe thought karaoke was pointless entirely. If he wanted to hear a good version of a song, he would go on Spotify and find one. He thought karaoke was a selfish sport made fun only for the singer, and never for the listener.

In summation, it was fucking stupid.

When he got in Topper’s Jeep, Rafe had been too tipsy to fully comprehend that it was karaoke night at the Swordfish. Now, with another tumbler of b-list bourbon between Rafe’s knuckles, he moped on a stool at the bar.

He felt old when he went out with Kelce, Topper and their other friends. He had started college while some of the other boys he’d grown up with were in their junior year of high school. Rafe didn’t have friends. He wasn’t good at keeping them and didn’t like it when they complained about their problems that weren’t even really problems. The persona he had crafted for dealing with friends, though, had gotten elaborate enough to where Rafe thought they didn’t notice that his heart wasn’t in it.

He didn’t have friends, he had the people he drank with. That was better than drinking alone.

Being twenty-four sucked. Too old for ragers, too young for drinks at the country club. Too many big problems to solve, but everyone thinking he was too young to solve him. Rafe wondered, if he drank enough, could he blackout the whole of his twenties and then he wake up in his thirties locked and loaded?

Some drunk whore was finishing up a song Rafe had only heard in Sofia’s car. She’d played it often. He didn’t know what it was called. It was by one of those superstar white girls with the zillion dollar concert tickets. Rafe didn’t like it. He didn’t like Sofia either anymore. He didn’t like to think about her anymore.

His heartbeat raced. His could feel it beat in his neck when he drank too much. It didn’t used to be that way. The human body couldn’t fail from misuse before thirty, could it? Rafe took a sharp inhale through his nose to push the frantic thoughts away. Everyone leaves eventually, he reminded himself; a mantra. Fuck, he wanted a cigarette.

Topper was on Ruthie leaning up on the wall near a booth. They were out of commission til she got pissy at him for breathing wrong, or something, and they all had to make excuses to leave. Normal Friday night.

Rafe wished he’d stayed home.

A DJ mumbled that the next person was taking the stage, singing Hard Candy Christmas by Dolly Parton. Arguably, this was Rafe’s favorite Christmas song because it had been his mother’s favorite Christmas song.

It was also the week before Thanksgiving and Rafe didn’t think he could stomach Christmas yet.

“Shit…” Rafe muttered into his glass of bourbon.

The girl supposed to sing was being pushed up into the tiny stage by a group of drunk girls. Presumably a bachelorette party by the looks of it. The girl onstage had a frown of surprise on her lips. It was clear to Rafe that she didn’t know this was going to happen. A girl in her party, wearing a veil headband, called out: “Please! This is our song. Please do it for me? You sound so pretty, [Y/N].”

All of her friends were calling and chanting for her to sing. The girl, [Y/N], looked embarrassed. She was very put on the spot.

Eventually, with all the cheering, pleading and encouragement, [Y/N] walked to the center of the stage where the microphone stood.

“Forgive me if this is dogshit, my friends signed me up,” The girl said over the karaoke track’s intro. A few of the girls she was with cheered. “I didn’t come to butcher Dolly in front of y’all.”

This yielded a chuckle from her audience. Rafe rolled his eyes. He was less interested in her humble act, and more interested in where he knew from. Rafe knew a lot of people, and he was starting to cling to the barstool to do what his legs were struggling to do. [Y/N] was a common enough name, but this girl looked so fucking familiar to him. His drunk mind leafed through the catalog of women in his brain. [Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N], where did he know her from?

Her clothes weren’t anything special. Standard bachelorette party fare. A little too short, but not quite slutty. She was a bridesmaid, maybe the maid of honor. Rafe wrinkled his nose in thought. His contacts stung dry against his eyes. He had stared at a screen too long in the office and now he was sitting under a vent in November. Who the hell left the A/C on in November?

[Y/N]. Rafe hadn’t hooked up with her before. He didn’t think he had, anyway. She didn’t appear to have botox in her face or filler in her top lip with the way she expressed so freely. That meant she couldn’t have been the kid of one of his dad’s business contacts.

He looked at her friends for clues. Immediately, Rafe recognized the bride. Wendy. Rafe had hooked up with Wendy a few times in high school. He was surprised to see she was still on the island; Wendy had been smarter than that. So Rafe probably knew [Y/N] from school, then. What classes had they shared? He tried to place her.

[Y/N] was working through the slow first verse. She didn’t have a perfect, trained voice. Her voice was the kind of voice that sang in the kitchen on Saturday mornings to the radio. A smirk pulled at Rafe’s lip. She wasn’t forcing it, and she wasn’t so drunk that it was pathetic to listen to. “I hate singing in front of people…” she said.

[Y/N] knelt and set down what appeared to be an Irish coffee, and put her left hand over eyes. No ring, Rafe thought. He almost puked at the thought that looking at babes in bars now came with seeing if they were married or engaged, before giving them the once over. Being twenty-four sucked. The girl swayed from side to side on her feet as she moved from the second half of the first verse to the chorus.

…Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine.

Me, I'll be just fine and dandy.

Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas.

I'm barely getting through tomorrow,

But still I won't let sorrow bring me way down…

The girl took some liberties with how she improvised the line endings or creating a harmony line instead of the melody during the way too repetitive chorus. It wasn’t like she was doing something revolutionary, but she also wasn’t just up there doing a cheesy impression of Dolly.

It was a welcome change of pace from the guy’s attempt at some Jimmy Buffet number a few songs ago. Rafe loved music. He loved it. That’s part of why karaoke was such an affront. Rafe played the piano; he was okay. His mom had put him in lessons right after kindergarten and it was the only thing he had stuck with until the end of high school. That was how he honored her memory.

Wait, kindergarten.

[Y/N] sat next to Rafe in kindergarten and early elementary. Holy fucking shit.

Rafe was a walking ad for Ritalin until he was about ten. Arguably, after that too. No one ever helped him out. He was also spoiled, he knew that. The kid talked out of turn, couldn’t follow the classroom expectations, never sat still, and ended up with his green light getting downgraded to a yellow light by the end of everyday. The tantrums he would throw over it where earthshaking. It was exhausting. [Y/N] sat next to him because she was not disruptive. Miss Lisa, their kindergarten teacher had loved [Y/N]. She loved her not only because she was good kid, but because she talked back to Rafe. [Y/N] used her position as calm-girl-forced-to-sit-next-to-shitty-boy to her advantage. She tattled on him daily. Debatably, that made his behavior worse, but the pair had fun sometimes. Rafe hadn’t thought about her in years.

[Y/N] wrapped up the song, trilling fine and dandy… I’ll be fine… over and over with the tinny backing track. He wished she could sing this song along with a guitar the way she deserved. Unexpectedly, Rafe found his hands applauding and his glass on the counter.

Quick as a flash, Rafe stood on unsteady feet and rushed towards the stage. [Y/N] rounded up her Irish coffee and pivoted towards her friends that clapped delightedly at her. Her hands were peeled away from her face now. Rafe almost smiled. Almost.

“Hey ladies, can I steal [Y/N] here for a second?” Rafe hollered over the music as he slumped towards their party.

Wendy’s eyes lit up in immediate recognition. “Rafe Cameron…”

“Hi Wendy,” Rafe said effortlessly. “Congratulations, by the way. You look great.” Rafe’s hookups were getting married now, and he was going to wake up tomorrow single and hungover.

“Thank you, hon. You look pretty good yourself… Please take her. Buy her another drink before we go. We need her loosened up a little.” Wendy giggled.

“Hey!” [Y/N] protested. She was eying Rafe uncertainly. She was trying to place him the same way that he had her.

“Please, ladies, next round on my tab. Congrats, seriously, Wendy,” Rafe said with a sleazy, false grin as a few of the women cheered. “I’ll bring [Y/N] back in one piece.” Gently, Rafe placed a hand on her elbow and angled her away towards the bar. The two walked in relative quiet.

All [Y/N]’s friends giggled. Rafe’s force dimples dropped when they were out of the ladies’ eyeline.

“Excuse me,” [Y/N] started. “Not tryin’ to be rude. Have we… Do I know you? I didn’t catch your name and…” She asked, staring intensely at Rafe. “Is this a setup, because Wendy’s always trying to—“

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Rafe cut in, stopping. He was drunk and forgot his manners. Great impression. Rafe cleared his throat and tried not to slur. “Rafe Cameron. You probably don’t remember me… I… You’re [Y/N] [L/N], yeah? You sat beside me in, like, fucking kindergarten and stuff.”

[Y/N] eyes widened in recognition. “Oh my god!” She gasped. “Rafe! How are you? Oh my god, you’re so tall!” [Y/N] laughed happily. Her faced buzzed warmly from the alcohol.

Rafe nodded at her amused comment. “Yeah, I’ve been busy since I was, y’know, nine.” He snorted.

“You transferred, right?”

“Yeah, Saint Mary’s.” Rafe replied. His mother’s trust had paid for catholic school after she died. He transferred out around the time he was ten.

“I can’t believe we never crossed paths again. You know Wendy from Saint Mary’s then?”

“Yep, that’s right,” Rafe paused. “Come on, lemme get you another drink. You’re the reason I didn’t fail first grade.”

[Y/N] smirked. “That’s probably true. You were an awful student.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe smirked. “Way to treat a guy buying you a drink,” he started his walk towards the bar, prompting [Y/N] to follow him. “You got Bailey’s or Jameson in that thing?”

The girl looked down into her nearly empty mug. “Jameson.”

“Smart girl.“ Rafe said easily. [Y/N] blushed. Even drunk, Rafe didn’t miss that expression on her face at those words. Almost too easy.

“Well, if you’re paying then tell the man to make it a double Irish too.”

“Very smart girl. I like the way you think.”

[Y/N] easily followed Rafe to the bar. The man’s broad shoulders slumped drunkenly as he cut through the crowd. When one was as large, imposing and beautiful as Rafe Cameron, crowds parted like the Red Sea. “So, uh, how are you? Did you do the whole college thing, or…?” [Y/N] asked broadly. She next to nothing about him. He wasn’t even the kind of childhood friend to get added on Instagram.

College. That was the default question at their age. Rafe hated this question, but he couldn’t let [Y/N] feel rejected for that question. “I mean, yeah. For a while. I was at Wofford for a year, but I never finished. I like what I do now, though.”

[Y/N] nodded. “And what exactly do you do?”

“Real estate development. I took over for my dad l when he passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, we get by,” Rafe turned to the bartender, waving a hand for his attention. “Another Maker’s Mark, neat, and a coffee with double Jameson. Put the anything else the bachelorette party orders on my tab.” Rafe said. He certainly didn’t need another drink, but he really liked having something to do with his hands. Rafe would probably have less substance abuse-related issues if he knew how to conduct his body in public in some way that wasn’t a poor impression of his father.

“Very good, Mr. Cameron.”

[Y/N] narrowed her eyes at Rafe. “Big spender… You that much of a regular that they know your name at the bar?” In her world, guys [Y/N]’s age didn’t get called ‘Mr.’ anything anywhere by anyone. The guys she knew still drank shitty PBRs in punk clubs and had girlfriends they had nothing in common with. Rafe’s polish and pedigree didn’t rub off even in such a state of intoxication.

Rafe didn’t have a good excuse. The implication of [Y/N]’s statement was accurate. “Sure,” he replied. He moved through the rest of his sentence like a gunshot to prevent an awkward conversation. “Hey, why’d you pick Hard Candy Christmas?”

“I didn’t pick it. Wendy did.”

Rafe nodded slowly. “Right. Why did she pick it for you, then?”

“Because it’s my favorite Christmas song.”

“It’s my favorite. It’s probably half of the Smoky Mountains’ favorite too. But why?”

“I didn’t realize this was hardball—“

“Please... I asked you a question about Dolly Parton. You sounded good.” Rafe responded. His drink was passed over the counter. He held it close to his chest and leaned his right elbow down to press it into the bar.

“Um, thanks. It’s… I had shitty couple years. I sang that song everyday for months at a time, I think. Wendy and I would go for these drives with the top down and just… Belt that shit out. Makes the bad days better.”

Rafe half-smiled. “So, year-round?” He said accusingly.

“The song? Like, not at Christmas?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, yeah. She says it’s like a Hard Candy Christmas, not that it is one. That’s grounds for year-round. It’s so much more than a Christmas song.” [Y/N] bit back with a smirk. The bartender returned and placed another white coffee cup and saucer in front of [Y/N] with a nod. The girl slurped a sip down without cream or sugar. She barely made a pinched expression at what was obviously a strong drink. Rafe was moderately impressed. He liked that [Y/N] was drinking brown liquor in black coffee this late on a Friday while all of her friends held White Claws and Daiquiris,

“My head hurts. This is the opposite of the Die Hard’s a Christmas movie thing.” Rafe jabbed.

“Anything can be a Christmas movie.”

“Then, so can a song.”

[Y/N] paused. “Damn.” she sighed. She wasn’t sober enough to get her arguments straight.

Rafe didn’t want to conversation to end. [Y/N] was the most intelligent person he’d spoken to all day. It wasn’t saying much, but was noticeable. He asked another question. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie, if you think that’s true?”

“American Psycho.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s not a—“

“Rewatch it. Not having this argument,” [Y/N] chided. The girl glanced over her shoulder at her friends. They were all staring at her and pretending they weren’t. “Listen Rafe, I appreciate the drink. It was really great to see you tonight. I gotta head back to Wendy now. Bachelorette party only happens once. If you’re lucky… But, hey, thank you again—“

“Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” [Y/N] asked. She had no idea where Rafe was taking this. Rafe pushed up the left sleeve of his brown sweater.

“What my favorite Christmas movie is.”

[Y/N] looked at him funny. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”

“Eyes Wide Shut.” Rafe replied coyly.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] smiled fully, finally. Rafe damn near smiled back. She took a small step away, gesturing to where her friends stood.

“Can I give you my card? Maybe we catch up sometime.” Rafe asked plainly.

“Yeah, maybe!”

Rafe pulled his business card out of his wallet and extended it to [Y/N]. She looked down at it, cheekily saying: “Let’s see Paul Allen’s business card…” her eyes widened at the writing on the card. “CEO? Of a development company? THE development company on the island.”

“I told you I took over my dad’s business.”

“Rafe, I… I’m barely a grant writer at a 501-c3. How are you a CEO… You’re… twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four two weeks ago.”

“Happy birthday,” [Y/N] said flatly. “What’s happening? Why are you talking to me?”

“Because you helped me pass first grade. I thought I already said that.” Rafe’s eyes never left hers. They were so blue. Too blue. Too blue to be real. Rich people were too pretty.

[Y/N] took a very long sip of her coffee. “That’s wild. I’m sorry, but that’s wild. You made me feel vastly inferior and I’m the friend with my shit the most together.” [Y/N] told Rafe, with a smile on her face.

“I know you gotta get back. I’m not gonna the asshole that kept the girls waiting, but call me. Listen, you’re pretty, so is your voice. We should catch up.” Rafe said. Was he asking her out? That was weird. That was weird, right?

Hesitantly, [Y/N] looked back at her friends again. They were too invested in her conversation with Rafe. Hopefully, they would all drink so much that they forgot it happened.

“Do you like karaoke, Rafe?” [Y/N] changed the subject.

“I hate it.” He replied instantly.

“Why are you here?”

Rafe gestured with his glass to where Topper and Ruthie were making out. “They gave me a ride. And you don’t seem too keen about it either.” He said with a shrug.

[Y/N] couldn’t figure out what Rafe’s game was. He had turned from an unsettling child to a freakish adult. He was blunt and brisk, and either frustratingly honest or an alarmingly good liar. Maybe both. She stared up at him.

“What?”

“What?” Rafe raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m gonna go. It was good to see you. Thanks for the drinks,” [Y/N] took a step back. She started to walk away slightly, still facing Rafe. A looked of what could be interrupted as self-loathing crossed Rafe’s face. He didn’t bullshit enough with her during the conversation to be perceived as likable, and she was leaving. Of course. Nobody liked Rafe when they actually knew Rafe. [Y/N] stopped, thinking. “Rafe?”

“Yeah?” His eyes slid back to her.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Maybe?”

He was going to say no, but it would serve as a litmus test for what kind of man Rafe was. It would help [Y/N] sleep easier to know what kind of bullet she dodged by losing Rafe’s business card after tonight. “Okay, we have a scavenger hunt thing for the party. It’s stupid. One of those… Do X number of shots, get someone to give you a BLANK, take a picture of three of you doing… whatever. Y’know?”

“Sure, yeah. What are you asking?”

“One of the items on the list is Maid of Honor and a stranger accomplish a task she’ll regret tomorrow. Like I said, it’s a trashy fuckin’ list.”

“Are you asking me to hookup with you, or…”

“Worse. Do you know the song Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by—“

“Absolutely not—“

“Let me finish. I said do you know the song Don’t Go—“

“I don’t do karaoke.” Rafe said forcefully.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me, or not?”

Rafe was stunned silent. His mind worked overtime. He suddenly felt extremely sober, in spite of his drunkenness. He sucked his teeth.

“I don’t do Elton John. Sorry.” He muttered finally.

[Y/N] nodded, knowingly. It was a setup anyway. She couldn’t be disappointed. She knew he’d refuse and she could leave knowing she had made the right choice ditching him. “That’s a’right. Maybe some other—“

“But, if you really want me to do this, let’s at least stick to the Christmas thing you’ve got going here.”

“You don’t look very… holly jolly.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned. Rafe was the strangest combination. “Stop givin’ me grief here. Your favorite Christmas movie is American Psycho. Let’s do Baby, It’s Cold Outside—“

“Whoa, waaaay too rapey.” [Y/N] protested.

“American. Psycho. How is that song—“

“Wait, do you know Fa—“

“Fairytale of New York?” Rafe finished.

“You know it?”

“My family’s Irish Catholic.”

They both stood still and looked at each other. Well, Rafe stood as still as he could, but swayed a little on his feet. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Why was he agreeing to this?

For as manipulative as Rafe Cameron could be, he was effortless to play for validation and a pretty pair of eyes looking back at him.

Everyone leaves eventually, Rafe reminded himself. His mouth and his brain were not in agreement. Rafe had lost control of his body as he blindly followed [Y/N] to sign up for the next karaoke slot.

They passed Topper and Rafe held onto his glass like an anchor. He should have switched to beer. Why did he have another bourbon? Topper pulled his face away from Ruthie long enough to look at Rafe as if to say what the fuck are you doing? without any words. Rafe grimaced at Topper, barring his teeth slightly in response.

Rafe leaned in to [Y/N]’s ear and clumsily pushed her hair back. “I’m not a singer… This isn’t gonna be good.” He whispered. Chills crept up [Y/N]’s spine at the sensation of his breath. He knew his way around rhythm and music theory. Rafe was an asshole about music, actually. Jazz, classical, whatever. It was his secret no one else got to have. It’s not his fault that most of the motherfuckers he hung out with only listened to guys with the word ‘yung’ in front of their names. Still, all of that musicality couldn’t make him a singer.

“It’s karaoke.” [Y/N] said like it was obvious. She dragged Rafe towards the stage. “You’re so serious… Stop frowning; you’re gonna get lines on your face. We’re both gonna suck. I wouldn’t make you do this if it wasn’t for Wendy anyway. Promise.”

“This is so dumb; this better be some fucking date…”

[Y/N] pried, with difficulty, the rocks glass out of Rafe’s fingers and set it with her mug on a tabletop by the stage. As she pulled him up to a microphone, she said: “You know the words. Sing the damn song.”

And as the track started to play, and [Y/N] stupid friends all cheered, Rafe slurred the words he knew from every drunken family Christmas party he’d ever had. And he smiled. Just a little.

[bouncy-dog-funeral]

Stiles Stilinski and how teen wolf fails his character and relationships

TW: mentions of charecters traumas, disibilitys not being taken seriously, toxic relationships, one sided attraction, and teen wolf hate cuz as much as I love some of the charecters… the show is kinda bad (it’s my special interest b4 I get hate)

ALSO!!!

I am just an autistic guy who’s been hyper fixated on stiles as a character for years. I am not telling you how to feel about the show or him, I’m just expressing how I feel through a long (and I mean it this is long so strap in… or don’t… I don’t control you) tumbler rant. I have not finished the show but I have done a lot of research (about episodes and seasons that I have not seen) but I’m just human. If I miss something or don’t get something right, you can just tell me!!

Stiles stilinski as a character, while not a revolution to tv, was a pretty iconic character. A show about werewolves and the supernatural was absolutely side stepped by the human of the series. From the moment he’s on screen, he brings a fun vibe and some pretty funny jokes but you’re not here to listen to me glaze a white guy from an early 2000s show. Too much of that on here any way so let’s get to the real meat and potato’s!

Stiles was failed by teen wolf. They failed to give him relationships (and I mean platonic and romantic relationships) that were reciprocated. His relationship with Scott is ok at best. In the first season stiles goes out of his way for Scott to help him find out what’s wrong with him and it’s seemingly the only reason he’s there other then to get Scott to go in the woods and to show that Scott isn’t friendless and what does Scott do? Kinda just ignore him to hang out with a girl HE JUST MET. This isn’t a one time thing either. Stiles goes out of his way for Scott 99% of the time. He’s loyal and honestly a really good friend. Scott does not meet him there unfortunately. This is not to say that Scott never helps stiles out or never shows care for him, he just kinda always puts his issues first. I think a famous example is season 5 episode 9. NOW BEFORE YOU SCOTT SYMPATHIZERS BOO ME I WOULD LIKE TO EXPLAIN MY POINT. Now Scott and Stiles have both gone through some traumatizing shit that no one, especially high schoolers but I can only give so much leniency. Scott is supposed to be a leader/alpha and although he’s bound to make mistakes, a good leader listens. He never really listens to stiles in this argument. He got told one story from Theo and just runs with it. He has this problem either way black and white thinking when everyone in this series is a person (werewolf’s and other supernatural creatures included) and being a person comes with not being perfectly good. Scott has this awful superiority complex when it comes to doing what he thinks is morally right. Scott through out the series proves that he is not as loyal to stiles is to him.

I’d also like to go over his relationship with Lydia cuz good god man. I don’t hate Lydia. I think she’s a great character that if not written in the early 2000s could really have potential but they make her mean to stiles (as most charecters are) and show no interest in stiles even as a nuisance and expect me to care about them as a couple. Now you could say the same thing about sterek (stiles x Derek) and you might even be typing up a comment now. Let me stop you. I think there is a key diffrance. We are supposed to root for stiles and Lydia. We are supposed to want them together when Lydia in all honesty is not intrested in him. It’s not a mutual arguing or back and forth. Stiles is deeply in love with some one who ignored his existence. As a afab person I feel bad for Lydia a little. Having the attention of a man that you don’t like all that much while you have a partner (Jackson in season 1 which he’s not a good partner but she’s still with someone) should get on my nerves and also kinda make me nervous. This is not me saying stiles is a creep or anything it’s just me highlighting the relationship that they share is kinda one sided. Now this is just personal preference and you might really like that dynamic but I don’t really want to root for a couple where it’s just pretty girl is there and she has some nerd who wants to be with her and she eventually gets with him cuz yay straight people. I know they grow and eventually Lydia is in love with him but I just can’t get behind it. It’s just nothing. The fact the he (stiles) yells at her at the school dance (season 1 episode 11) to get her to dance with him after she rejected the offer twice is weird!!! The whole speech is nice guy behavior on stiles part and it makes him seem down right disrespectful. I don’t care for the whole “no means I’m playing hard to get” idea. It makes stiles look like a dick, puts Lydia in the position where if she doesn’t say yes the audience will hate her, and it doesn’t progress the relationship in a healthy way. I think they would be really cute friends and you can even keep the “stiles has a crush on her” narrative and just make it to where he comes to an understanding that she has said no and they become friends. God knows we are lacking good platonic male/female relationships in media.

Now onto stiles and his disability. When I was in first obsessing over stiles in middle school or high school I was ecstatic to learn that stiles had adhd. I have been diagnosed with adhd since I was in elementary school. I was always an outcast cuz of it so to see a character, a fan fav at that, I was so happy. Getting any disability rep (especially from the mid 2000s) is crazy rare so I was happy to see it. Unfortunately in an interview Dylan o’brian (stiles actor) said that it was a joke. That even tho that in the series stiles says that he takes Adderall (a drug that treats adhd) he’s just like that. This was incredibly heart breaking to hear. Jeff Davis (creator of teen wolf) said that stiles had adhd later on Twitter but this isn’t a real relief to hear cuz either they wrote a “joke” that stiles might have adhd therefore dangling rep infront of disabled people’s faces while also having plausible deniability about having any rep in the show at all OR they wrote it in and just kinda ditched it at one point. They use derogatory terms for adhd to describe stiles like spaz just for him to be a nerotypical charecter??? Yeahhhhhh not a huge fan. If they actually wrote him to have adhd (which btw in my experience is like one of the most “accepted” disibiltys to portray in media so it wouldn’t even be taking a huge risk to give stiles adhd) then that would explain his behaviors, why he takes Adderall, why people other him when he seemingly does everything right. It was only ever a joke to the writers and I think unfortunately the actors. It made it to where other fans of the show can shut down the idea that stiles has adhd cuz “they don’t ever directly say it. It’s frustrating and overall makes me so sad.

Next his trauma. They put this man through a lot and just gloss over it. They do this with most of the charecters. Huge traumatic incadent then boom Scott saves the day we’re all fine!!! (Can you tell who my least fav charecter is through this rant?) it’s just annoying. Stiles was litterly possessed leaving him a broken man but it’s kinda just… there? No real ptsd. Hell he doesn’t even really have to deal with anything. They briefly go over that his mom died and kinda just became a shell of a person and that made his dad an alcoholic. It just happens. None of that affects stiles outside of that story line. Was it too much to write ptsd? Idk it just seems that anytime they have to write a charecter that isn’t a ambiguously white or white nerotypical untraumatized “normal” person, they fall flat *cough* BOYD *cough cough* DANNY *cough* what was that? Who said that? Any way it’s just weird and upsetting.

All of this to say…. I think teen wolf had so much potential and so many good ideas that just… didn’t make it. They failed stiles stilinski, not only that! They failed all of their character’s but I’m not crazy Coocoo about their character’s and it 1:38 in the morning so I’ll leave it with stiles. If you disagree with me that’s so fine, I’d love to have a conversation about your opinions! Just from my knowledge and experience, I feel like they could have done so much better for stiles

(Like make him a bisexual neurodivergent icon but whatever)

Have a lovely day! Thank you for listening. If you ever want to talk about teen wolf, my dms are always open and I’m crazy.

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 17: Catching up

First chapter | Previous

Send some love to @lovelivingmydreams who's written this wonderful story!

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“Should we catch mister Remus up on what happened the past fifty years?” Patton wondered as they walked towards the nearest village.

Remus had reluctantly accepted a cloak from Virgil to hide his altered form from the villagers.

“Oh Virgin told me everything already. Gussy got a promotion. All it took was every other great mage and above to kick the bucket. Except the high mages probably aren’t actually dead. The great mages… I saw some of them before I got locked up. They looked very dead,” Remus stated casually. “We’d all be stuck where we were if you three didn’t want to play hero and go snoop in a missing mage’s tower. That’s gutsy I’ll give you that. And that’s where you found Virgin in a box!”

“Stop calling him that,” Roman insisted, feeling Virgil’s annoyance at that nickname.

Remus turned to him with a smirk. “When he gets some I’ll stop calling him that,” he promised.

That… Confused Roman. Virgil had boyfriends before. Many from the sound of it. He didn’t think Virgil would be inexperienced… Virgil seemed amused by that statement, so he probably wasn’t.

Not something Roman wanted to be thinking about too much actually.

“Didn’t…” Patton started, but Virgil interrupted him.

“Anyway. My love life aside. There is a chance that there are some allies around who will help us no questions asked. Thomas is king, I don’t worry about him. It’s the council I am not sure about and I’d rather have the gang complete and agree on our story to keep these three out of trouble on the off chance this whole thing goes belly up,” Virgil explained, indicating Roman and his friends.

Roman was about to interject, but Remus interrupted him.

“So we gotta nap,” he said, clearly annoyed by that part of the plan. “Eat, and then go find Janni without any clue where to find him?” he surmised.

“Well, we have some clue. We have an area within which we need to search. We can start from the center and then go from there. Which just so happens to be… Here,” Virgil announced as they came upon the village.

“Oooh, I remember this one!” Remus cackled. “Didn’t you have a cult here for a while?” he wondered.

“Not a cult. Just…” Virgil tried to correct.

“Dude they had tattoos. It was a cult,” Remus grinned.

Virgil sighed. “You stop one forest fire,” he muttered.

“How long is ‘a while’?” Logan wondered. Which was fair. A while for them might mean something entirely different to them than to the centuries old mages.

“A decade or two,” Virgil admitted.

“Dude, babies were born and raised on the idea that you were an actual god,” Remus chuckled.

“It was a very isolated town back then. Not many travelers going through, let alone mages. Few even knew it was there,” Virgil explained.

“And worrywart Virgin kept tabs on those wittle settlements like a good wittle high mage,” Remus teased.

“I wasn’t the only one,” Virgil pointed out. “You are more of an outlier than me in that regard.”

Remus shrugged. “Anyway, Virgie finally had enough of the worship every time he checked up on the wards and asked me for help setting things straight. I’m pretty sure they still thought we were something divine for a good while after that… I think that kid… Damian?” Remus mused.

Virgil nodded. “Once Damian was found to be gifted and he went to school, he managed to convince his family and neighbors that magic, while powerful, is not an indication of the divine,” he recalled. They made their way to one of the larger buildings. Not the inn though. “Ever since, I’ve been treated as a welcome guest,” Virgil mused.

“And I as a scary reminder to treat you as a person,” Remus grinned, elbowing his friend in the side.

Virgil chuckled and knocked on the door. “Here’s hoping for allies,” he mused.

Not much later, a woman in her early twenties opened the door.

Virgil relaxed. "Daughter of James, son of Adam?" he guessed, pulling his hood back just a bit.

The woman gasped. “You are here,” she breathed as she ushered them inside.

"Grandfather will be thrilled," she said in an excited tone as she led him onward to the living room where an elderly man in his seventies was seated along with a man in his late forties or early fifties. They both rose from their seats, the eldest a bit less fluently.

"Please, stay seated," Virgil bid, making the eldest gasp. "Virgil... it really is you," he whispered. Virgil pulled back his cloak, revealing his cursed appearance, the man seemed unphased.

"Hey, Adam. You look good," he smiled fondly.

"No need to lie," Adam chuckled, tears welling up in his eyes. "When we got the message... I didn't think I'd see you this soon. But I came here because I knew that if you did end up in the area, this was where you'd look for aid," he explained shakily. Virgil gently guided him back to his seat. "Well, I found Remus in the area, so I couldn't just pass you by. What message, though?" Virgil wondered. Adam pointed at the table. A messaging stone.

"The phoenix has risen," Adam said weightily. "That was the message," he said. Then he took in Roman and his friends. "Are we all allies of the high Mage?" he asked firmly.

"They are good, Adam. Man, you got serious while I was away. I remember you being much more fun," Virgil chided playfully.

Adam smiled fondly at him. "Well, what I am about to reveal could put my family and our allies at risk, so I have to be cautious,” he offered apologetically. “We are the guardians of the Phoenix secret. We shared information on your last years and those of other high mages that kept in contact with the common folk,” he explained. Then he leaned forward, looking Virgil in the eye. “There are wizards and mages the council has no knowledge about. No one knew what the ritual that would allow them to become great mages entailed exactly I'm afraid. And we didn't stumble upon it while we tried to educate free thinking magic wielders as we'd hoped. But still, you'll have plenty of students of varying ages eager for some more guidance. Many of them have lost a loved one to the plague and did not accept the official explanation for their passing. They eagerly await word from you," Adam explained.

Virgil chuckled. "I should have known you'd keep your trouble maker tendencies even after taking over as caretaker of the town," he mused.

"But it's good to know there will be mages around to help guide the official magic community." The cursed high mage decided. "I'll help them as soon as we know what happened to the other high mages. We already found the smoldering heart and the frozen tempest. I'm sure there will be more returning to help soon," he promised.

"How can we help?" The other man, James probably, wondered eagerly.

"We could use someplace to rest for an hour. Food. And information. Anything about where Janus silver tongue was last seen or anything about a basilisk in the area," Virgil summarized.

"We won’t need a big room," Remus assured them as he pulled a flustered Patton closer by the waist.

"I'll fit this one in my lap," he mused. To which Patton made a high pitched squeak.

"Don't make him uncomfortable Remus,” Virgil warned.

Remus let go of Patton. "Came Vigini!" He whined petulantly. Roman was at a complete loss as to what he just said. And then Virgil responded in kind.

Roman was pretty sure no one in the room knew what the heck they were saying.

Remus seemed to be on the defensive and Virgil seemed both skeptical and intrigued.

Roman felt a nudge. He looked beside him and saw that his friends were looking at him expectantly.

“What?” he whispered.

“What are they saying?” Logan asked, rolling his eyes as though that was obvious.

“I can’t read his mind. I need some more context and even then it’s an educated guest. Remus is trying to convince Virgil of something. Virgil is not impressed. That’s all I got,” he whispered back.

“Got on what?” Remus asked curiously. Roman glared at him, not willing to say anything if Virgil hadn’t.

“Oh, Roman and Virgil have a magic bond and they have this cool thing where they talk without talking now,” Patton summarized helpfully, glad that he wasn’t the topic anymore Roman assumed.

“Really?” Remus said intrigued.

“It was an accident,” Roman insisted. “When we found Virgil’s ashes I didn’t expect to be touching human remains, I panicked and tried a cleansing spell and then Virgil started to reform and my magic mixed with his and now here we are,” Roman insisted.

“It is probably for the best that it did happen though,” Logan pointed out. “We would likely not have been so quick to trust Virgil had it not been for Roman being so connected to Virgil’s emotions,” he pointed out.

“I might not have stuck around you guys for longer than necessary to grab some supplies and hand you a favor before getting home if I hadn’t felt your shock and worry. It alerted me that something was off and made me more cautious. Slowing down, as frustrating as it was at the time, probably was beneficial to preparing and planning the rescue mission,” Virgil admitted.

“Well, good that things turned out how they did,” the woman who’d initially opened the door for them said.

“My brother and his wife run the inn. They’ll have some space to spare and the resources to cook you a proper meal,” she offered.

“Thank you,” Virgil smiled before turning to Adam. “We’ll be on the move as soon as we have somewhere to go, but I’ll be back to catch up once things have settled,” he promised.

Adam nodded gratefully.

Logan offered their hostess the map. “The yellow circle is the area within which the high mage Janus should be found. This should help you in gathering relevant information,” he stated.

The woman nodded and then took them to a different building.

As they were guided outside, Roman gently touched Virgil's arm with his own to get his attention but not be noticed by someone else, specifically Remus.

Virgil glanced towards him, picking up on his attempt to be subtle.

Roman looked back at the house where the two elder men were watching them go to wave at them and then turned to Virgil curiously, already having his suspicions. Virgil smiled, fond accusation in his eyes. Roman turned away from him, embarrassed. Virgil subtly nudged him in comfort. Glanced back and showed his nostalgic affection for the young man Adam was when they knew one another. Then he looked at Roman, flooding him with the inferno of affection, completely consuming the embers of what remained of whatever once existed between him and Adam.

Roman felt a little silly for being jealous of an elderly person. But Virgil didn't seem to fault him for that.

"You weren't kidding. This is gonna be fun," Remus chuckled. Great. So he did catch on.

“Drop it Remus,” Virgil sighed.

“Aw come on V. You haven’t had a magic bond since school. It’s a little intriguing,” Remus shrugged.

“That you know off,” Virgil stated, making Remus gasp offended. “You bonded with someone other than me or J on purpose?” he asked. Virgil just smirked and walked on. Though Roman could tell he hadn’t just made that up to rile Remus up.

He wondered who he’d chosen to bond with.

"Jessica! Peter! Guests for Grandfather. They need rooms and a meal!" Their guide called out they entered the Inn. Behind the bar stood a young couple looking surprised at their arrival. Middle of the day was not exactly rush hour.

"We don't need to use the beds, and we only need the space for an hour," Virgil promised gently. His hood once again securely over his head. "And we got gold to pay," Remus added.

"Um. Well, the rooms are just cleaned out and I don't expect anyone till dinner. So uh... how many rooms?

"A single one if there is enough space for all of us to sit comfortably," Virgil offered. Tossing Remus a warning glance to which the high mage pouted.

Jessica nodded, grabbed a key, and led the way.

"Here you go. I'll have a stew and some bread ready when you get back," she offered as she opened the door for them and handed Virgil the key.

"Thank you," he bid before closing the door and turning to the group.

"Everyone knows the drill. Roman I want to try and see if I can teach you a few things about being a phoenix high Mage while resting. Are you okay with that?" Virgil asked.

Roman frowned, pretending to be confused for a moment before coming to a realization. "Like how you showed us your memory for clues," he guessed so no one would know there'd been a much more recent experience for Roman.

Virgil nodded though his emotions searched for confirmation. He wanted to know if Roman wanted it to be like last night or like the first time.

Roman pressed on with confidence, indicating his desire for them to be one again.

"Ooh first a magic bond, now sharing a dream? Virgil you always had favorites, but you're never so obvious about it," Remus teased.

"Shut it Remus," Virgil warned as he locked the door so they wouldn't be interrupted.

"I'm being serious!" Remus insisted, throwing an arm around Roman's shoulder. "Seriously, seriously though," he whispered in Roman's ear. "He is thick as a rock when it comes to guys liking him." Roman doubted that but Remus' ignorance seemed to be a source of amusement for Virgil so he didn’t correct him.

"But I'm pretty confident he likes you. So when you make your move, lay it on thick," he advised. Roman was taken aback. He hadn't expected to get Remus' approval. Not that he'd wanted it. Virgil's as the only approval that mattered.

Still. He appreciated the gesture, even if he was not going to admit that.

"Get of me," he huffed as he broke from his maybe great something uncle's grip. “I think I am currently a bit more aware of what he does and does not feel than you,” he pointed out dismissively before turning to Virgil.

"I'd love that. Thank you," he told Virgil. He could hear Remus sigh defeated. Thinking he'd failed to be a good guide for his 'nephew' probably.

"Alright. Come sit with me. We have an hour," Virgil reminded him. Roman nodded and joined Virgil, where he sat on the floor. They sat themselves back to back.

"Wanna cuddle?" Remus suggested to someone. Probably Patton. "No, thank you," Patton squeaked.

"Great, now there's four," Logan muttered. And then it went quiet, and Roman could focus.

He was five and looked up at his grandfather with big eyes. Under the wonder and excitement there was surprise that was not his own.

"Roman, my boy. I will tell you the tale of the birth of the marvelous town me, my father and your father grew up in," his grandfather said weightily. “It was my father’s first memory. They traveled through an icy storm to find a new home to live with his parents and everyone from their former village. A band of rogues with terrible magic means had ransacked their village, poisoned their lands.” Roman could vividly imagine it, though he hadn’t at the time. Those bands of rogue wizards specializing in weather magic, turning it against the kingdom to send everyone in disarray.

“And no aid was coming for them, so they packed up and tried their luck elsewhere.

They were forced to travel under terrible circumstances Roman, but they had to find shelter. So, they braved the storm,” grandfather said dramatically putting his grandchild on the edge of his seat. “And finally, the gods heard their prayers for mercy and the storm died down. Just as they found themselves in a valley near a forest, a river between them and predators, but not impossible for humans to cross so they could hunt for food in the forest. They stood a chance at survival.

But my father didn’t remember that day because of the storm or the miraculous appearance of the perfect valley to live in.” Grandfather leaned in closer. “Not even for the white-blue feline monsters that emerged from the forest, jumping over the river with ease, just as they had settled in.” Roman gasped in shock.

“No. He remember it for what happened right after his father covered his fear frozen body with his own. Through his embrace he saw a bird, black as night swoop in between them and the advancing monsters. They cowered away just as the majestic creature lit up in purple flames and turned into a man. With a mere gesture of his hand he sent the monsters back to the forest. He stood there a moment, light pouring from him and encircling what would become our town,” grandfather said. “And then he turned and knelt down to meet my father’s gaze. And you know what he told him Roman?” Roman shook his head, entirely enraptured.

“He told him that he’d sorted out the issues with the neighbors and that they should have pleasant weather for a long while. And they did. And we do. Only gentle snowfall and regular showers to water our crops, a rare late night thunderstorm to enjoy from the safety of our homes. It was, and still is, a magnificent place to live,” grandfather said wisely.

“I suppose that is a no to moving with us?” Roman’s father said from behind him. The memory shifted.

He was sat in his dorm room reading a bundle of poems.

"Roman," Logan's voice called. "Will you please put that down? This is important," he insisted.

"I'm not slacking," Roman insisted. "These are written before the plague and honor the great mages of that time. Uncensored " Roman pointed out.

"Really?" Patton gasped. Nervous and excited at the same time.

Logan was silent. Craving the hidden knowledge, but also well aware that if the Council knew about this book, they'd probably ban it. It had likely been overlooked due to it being poetry. They weren't supposed to learn anything about the magic of that time if it was not vetted and deemed safe by the arch mage...

"Listen to this," Roman said, encouraged by the fact that no one was stopping him. "The flame of night, endlessly bright upon the crowd. The sky had fallen, the stars were enraged, yet it did not phase the mage of night. And thus he tamed the blazing stars, docile the hellhound laid at his feet,” Roman cited gently.

“Wow… That’s kind of cool,” Patton breathed.

Logan hummed, not wanting to admit that he agreed.

“Too bad that such magics led to a plague,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but still… I wonder what it was like, to live like that. Not having to worry that you offended Her,” Roman mused.

They didn’t mention the goddess of magic out loud when they could help it. His friends knew which ‘Her’ he meant.

“We will likely never know…” Logan sighed, also not happy with having their magic so limited.

“In any case, I found something… Peculiar,” the diviner of their group stated, shifting topic.

“What’s that?” Roman asked.

“The arch mage. There is nothing to find about his death. Not the date, not the cause. Not even that he died. His death should have been a state affair. But there was no mention of it made ever. He just seems to, disappear,” he informed them.

“Wait… He might not be dead?” Patton asked confused. They’d all assumed he was dead. But Logan was right there should’ve been some sort of record for that. If there wasn’t then that meant…

“Who is searching for him?” Roman asked.

“I don’t know, but they aren’t successful, clearly,” he stated.

Roman grinned, he knew that glint in his friend’s eye. That was the same look he’d had when they made their pact to become mages.

“What do you say we offer some help?” Logan suggested.

“How?” Patton wondered.

“I have been doing some research, there is a ritual that can elevate us beyond ordinary mages. It is difficult and dangerous, as we have to connect with the very fabric of magic on a deeper level. Being rejected is extremely likely, and who knows what might happen if we are. But with ample preparation, I believe we might succeed,” he announced.

Roman looked to Patton and then to Logan. They were once again on the same page. They’d take on this challenge together.

Roman let go of his hold of the past and felt himself be gently pulled in another direction.

He was lying in a field under a starlit sky. Minding his breath. Stardust next to him. Staring up at the endless void of dark and light.

"What are you doing?"

His concentration broken, he glanced at the boy who'd managed to settle at his side without him noticing.

He looked back up to the stars. "I am trying to commune with Magic," he explained.

The young man gasped. "You can do that!?" he whispered incredulously.

"Sort off," he said. "It takes a lot of focus though," he explained.

"What are you saying to her?" His student wondered.

He was silent and looked at the 14 year old. He didn't need to know about his suspicions. "I asked for some guidance," he said simply.

That got him a long moment of silence.

"Why did she make you a phoenix and not a dragon?" The teenager asked suddenly.

"Because I'm not a dragon. I'd be a terrible king," he stated.

"You're a great teacher," the young man countered. He chuckled. "I'm alright, I suppose," he allowed. "I wouldn't give it up for the world," he mused. The young man nodded in understanding.

"Want to comune with me?" He offered. In answer his student laid down next to him.

He blinked and he was in a hallway looking at his student. Now a young adult. He was eying the doors nervously. It was a different room, a different building and a different city. But it had the same design and the same function as the one he’d entered for his ascension.

"You will be fine. I'll be here when you get back," he promised.

"Thank you," his pupil said. "For sneaking me in here," he added.

"No problem. I wish I'd gone behind everyone's back when I became a great mage. I hated the whole circus," he admitted, making a face. His student laughed. "Well, see you later," the young mage bid before walking in and closing the doors.

He took a deep breath and held out his hands, a little pouch with herbs on his wrist. He had prepared the room. Now, he just had to activate the bubble. The guide would break the circle when it was time.

A bright flash, a gust of wind blew the doors open, and he stared wide-eyed at the silhouette of a dragon in the smoke. Then he blinked, and it was all back to normal.

His protege standing in the center, shaking. He rushed forward and embraced him. "I've got you," he promised.

"Did you know?" The young man whimpered into his shoulder.

"I had suspicions. I didn’t want that burden to be put upon you any sooner than necessary. No one has to know until you are ready," he promised.

"But the people..." the future king protested.

"Are well looked after by all of us," he assured him. "You don't need to take the crown until you are ready," he swore.

He felt the embrace tighten.

And then he was in the forest in his phoenix form his student stood before him holding one of his feathers, focusing. And then there was a golden phoenix before him.

"Welcome to flying 101. Your first lesson in preparation of ascending," he announced.

His pupil shook his head disoriented. "The phoenix senses will take some getting used to. Now, shall we?" It took a few tries and some encouragement in the face of defeat, but they took to the sky and the future king was having the time of his life. As they flew all around the lands that would someday become their kingdom, he explained becoming a high mage to him.

"You will no longer be looking up at the stars but feel like you are part of them. Like they are old friends. Magic will bend for you more easily. Like you know it's language. Basically, the same changes after becoming a mage and a great mage. But more extreme. You won't notice right away. Only when using spells at first.

As if you subconsciously give yourself more time to process. It's a lot. But once you get comfortable in your new body, magic will be as natural as breathing." he explained.

"How do I ascend?"

"When you are ready, you focus like you did when you first connected, and this time, you let it consume you. You will not disappear. You will be one with magic. When you are ready to accept that, it will happen as it should."

They flew in silence. "You will be there, right?"

"Until you send me away," he promised. He angled his body to gain altitude above a forest and then he dove down again. Heading straight for a castle. A new castle. One that would survive several centuries of both peace and war. But now it was shiny and new, only a decade old, built as crown jewel of the chosen capitol.

He landed in the courtyard, human once more. His student stood before him, surrounded by curious, confused, mages.

“Do you have it?” the younger mage said nervously.

“All taken care off,” he promised with a bow of his head. “You’ll do great,” he promised before walking back to give the soon to be high mage his space.

The young almost king took a deep breath and in a blaze, spread his wings and took to the sky. Growing bigger and bigger until a fully grown, golden dragon flew loops around the castle, letting out a mighty roar and flying off.

Virgil smirked proudly and conjured a table on which he laid out the newly made golden crown and the ten swords that had left the fire only that morning, enchanted and made ready for their pledge an hour ago.

When the king came back from marking his territory, he would be crowned and nine mages would be chosen as his advisors and confidants. Together the ten of them would reflect the ten main gods. Remus would often be jokingly referred to as the unofficial eleventh representative of eclipse, only showing up when it pleased him.

He looked up and blinked against the sun.

And then he was standing in front of the inn earlier today looking at Roman slowly transforming, before his eyes. His hair growing longer his skin changing color and then suddenly he was blinding to look at, for a moment he thought he saw wings and half expected to see a Pegasus appear. But no. When he could see him again he was a gorgeous white horse with golden eyes, though he could swear there were some red and purple hues in his manes when he moved his head and the light hit it just right.

He blinked and he was flying through the temple. To his horror he saw Roman taunt Remus into attacking him. For a terrifying moment he thought he was watching one of his closest friends torch a man he’d come to care deeply for in a dazzling short amount of time.

But the yellow and green flames Remus produced turned golden and red and even a little purple as they bend around Roman as though protecting, no embracing him.

Roman started glowing himself becoming one with the flames, making it just one whirling storm of fire.

And then it became a silhouette of a phoenix, bursting from the wave of flames with grace and regal purpose. It actually intimidated the chimera for a moment. Then the fire phoenix closed its wings and shrank down, leaving behind a faintly glowing Roman. Who still stood his ground like nothing had happened.

That idiot.

“Hey! Love birds! Wake up!”

[mrsmandalorian]

city nights

- cowboy!joel x techie! f!reader

-part 3 of city lights, country nights

summary: joel surprises the reader by visiting her and tagging along for ladies' night in the city. something happens to bring up old insecure memories.

series masterlist/main masterlist/word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU,  pet names (baby, angel, darling), fluff!!!!, flirting, make-out, drinking, drunk reader, almost bar fight, bar settings, jealousy, insecurity, cowboy! joel is a dream man. 

a/n: howdy, everyone! thank you so much for loving this series! 🫶🏼 i hope you enjoy this part. i have been watching some cowboy films and series to get inspiration. the bar scene reminds me of yellowstone, lol. let me know what everyone thinks and wants to see! i would love to hear your feedback or comments! - maddie

The 5:30 alarm rang earlier than expected on Monday morning. The warm arm and body wrapped around you gently pulled away with a groan. Your time with your cowboy was almost over. You stretched your body as you rolled over to meet handsome brown eyes staring into your eyes. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers as he pulls your hips into his as he faces you. He gives your lips a lazily placed kiss and then runs his scruffy chin against your neck, causing you to giggle loudly. 

“Morning, handsome,” you giggled back. You quickly got up before he could tickle you all over. You find an easy way to escape him as he tries to catch you. “It’s time to get ready for the day, lazy cowboy.’

He gets up with a grunt and rolls his eyes at your comment. You both spend the next twenty minutes getting ready for the day. Your work clothes look very different from what you wear around the ranch. It's more business casual than cute overalls with your hair up. Joel helps you pack your bags and get ready to go. The two of you had this routine down to an art. If you left the ranch at six o'clock on the dot, you could be pulling into the parking lot at work on time. 

Joel made your coffee in your to-go tumbler and set it in the kitchen with your purse and phones. You walked into the room with your toiletry bag in hand. He had already packed the car and started it for you. He was indeed an angel and was better at time management than you were sometimes. Even Sassy knew what time it was as she followed you outside the house to your car—giving her some quick love and a promise to see her soon, walking to your vehicle where Joel was waiting for you. 

You give him a sad smile as you pull each other into a long hug. “I’m going to miss you, handsome. Thank you for a perfect weekend as usual,” you mumble into his neck as you hug him. He pulls away and gives you a quick peck, smiling down at you. 

“I’m going to miss you more, darling. It’s hard to let you go. You know you don’t have to work. Just sit pretty on my porch with some ice-cold lemonade,” he jokes to you as he kisses your cheek, his scruff tickling your skin. Joel was only kidding with you about your job. He knew and loved that your independence was critical and didn’t mind it as long as you were happy. You had a life in the city, and that’s where your family and friends besides them were. You and Joel had excellent communication (most of the time) of each other’s plans without pushing the border of clingy. He did wish you were closer, but he was grateful for every second he got to be with you. You had not told him yet, but there have been talks with your boss about you working from home more often. He might just need to update his internet package for that to happen. 

“I’ll see you soon, cowboy,” you whispered with a soft smile as you glanced up at his dreamy brown eyes that peered back at yours. His large hands gently grip onto your hips and push you against your car. His lips passionately met yours as his hands grip firmly on your bottom. He reaches up to caress your cheek with his thumb as he continues the passionate kiss. Your hands wander up to his brown curl as you follow Joel’s lead in the kiss with a soft moan. He pulls away from the kiss with a cocky smirk as he meets your eyes. “One hell of a goodbye from you, old man.” 

Joel chuckles and pulls his body off yours as he opens the car door for you. “Just leaving you with something to think about later,” he winks at you. He helps you enter the car, bending down to peck your lips again. “Drive safe, darling. I love you. Please let me know when you made it to work.” 

“Yes, sir, I will. I love you, handsome,” you grinned back at him as he closed your door. You both gave each other a soft smile with more emotions behind it as he took some steps back to let you drive away. 

You slowly drove away as you waved back to the cowboy as you went down the long driveway. The memories of the past weekend flood through your head as you drive down the road. The sound of a horn stops you before you get emotional. It is Ellie and Tommy on their way up to the big house. They give you a big smile and wave as you drive past, with you returning the gesture. It made you want to turn around and help them do their jobs for the day, but you couldn’t, sadly. The drive to the city was always more challenging on Mondays, sometimes so bad you would make yourself leave on Sunday so you could go to work. 

You listen to your favorite playlist the whole drive as you dream of your future with Joel and watch the country roads turn into busy intersections. The dream slowly slips from your mind as you remember all the tasks you ignored for the past two days and start strategizing your day as you are a few miles out. 

Your day was average on Monday. You caught up on emails, gossip, meetings, and working on some documents for another company to send by Wednesday. As you headed home from work, one of your friends, Anne, invited you to hang out downtown with your group of mutual friends for some weekday fun. You quickly agree as you want to get your mind off missing your cowboy in the right way. Also, text Joel to let him know your plans for the evening as you catch up on each other’s busy day. 

Hope your day was more exciting than mine! Btw, Anne and the girls invited me to go downtown tonight. It probably won’t stay long. Too tired from last night ;)

You send him the message as you start your ten-minute drive home to your apartment. You were more tired than usual. 

We had a cow get out of the fence. It wasn’t exciting for Ellie, but it was for Tommy and me. That sounds good, darling. Be careful; keep me updated so I know you’re okay. This old man knows all the right tricks for his lady. 

He sends it back, which makes you chuckle. You think of Ellie trying to get the cow back inside the fence while Joel and Tommy “supervise.” You walk inside your quiet apartment and set all your bags down. 

The girls wanted to meet at 7 PM at one of the bars downtown to hang out for a few weeks. They usually did this every once in a while on Mondays to hear about your sexy weekend vacations. You don’t tell them all the details, but they know they are wild and freaky. All the girls want themselves a cowboy now, and you couldn’t blame them. 

You quickly changed out of your work clothes into something comfortable but semi-flashy. You weren’t going all out because you planned only to have a few drinks, come home, and go to bed. 

It was only 6 p.m. after you had gotten ready to go. You sighed as you lay on your couch watching TV and scrolling on social media. As you looked at your phone, the notification for Joel’s text came through. 

The text read: 

Ordered you some snacks for after the bar. Should be there in about 5 minutes. I love you, darling ❤️. 

 It causes you to grin slightly as you lean up and respond with a sweet message of thanks and love. 

After falling back into the pit of socials, your doorbell rings, causing you to jump slightly. Wishing they had just left it at the door, but sighed as you heard another knock. You walk over to your door and look through the peephole. Seeing a familiar face, you quickly unlock the three locks Joel had installed for you. 

“Joel!” You gasp as you swing the door open. “What in the hell are you doing here?” It takes all of you not to start crying as he steps through your doorframe. 

“I forgot I had to turn in my tax stuff to the tax office in the next city over, so I thought I’d come to see you, darling. Make a trip out of it by stopping here tonight and seeing Sarah for early morning breakfast. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day,” he says as he pulls you into a sweet embrace. “I did come bearing hangover treats.”

“You’re an angel,” you praise him and lean up to give him a sweet kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m going to call the girls and cancel.” 

“No, no! Don’t do that, darling,” he says as he waves his hands in disagreement. He smiles at you and responds, “You go have fun with the girls, baby. I did not come here to ruin plans, just to surprise you. I’ll be here waiting for you.” 

“But,” you pouted at him as he moved a piece of hair from your face. I want to spend time with you, too! You could come and be our designated driver!” You joked with him and gave him a devilish smile. 

“I don’t want to ruin your time with your gi-” 

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “You’re not ruining anything! We were probably going to gossip about our weekend anyway. Might as well bring you to ‘wow’ them some more. I want you there. We could do a little dancing too.” 

He shakes his head and runs a hand over his forehead in a stressed way. “If you want me there and I’m not affecting your girl time, I’ll go.” He agrees as he grins down at you. 

The bar was packed for Monday night, but was a college town. It was the city where Sarah went to university. The two of you have met many times for lunch or shopping to help your bond since she was away at college. You would meet her most of the time at one of the coffee shops closer to campus almost once a week for a catch-up. It felt good to be there for Sarah. You were closer in age than the two of you would have thought, but still a reasonable distance. It made the bond easier in that way. 

Joel follows you as you enter the bar, looking around to see what the vibe is for the night. There was a good mix of college students and middle-aged adults inside. He doesn’t follow too closely as he checks out his surroundings, and most everyone does a double take on him with his cowboy hat and boots. 

“Oh my goodness! Hello!” your friend Anne greeted you as you found her standing at the bar with two more of your friends. “Oh my! Look what the cat dragged in!” 

You giggle as you see all the ladies look over your shoulder to Joel, who has now wrapped an arm around your waist. “Hello, ladies! Yes, look who surprised me as I was walking out the door. He tried to stay at my apartment, but I insisted he join us. I hope that’s okay!” 

They all giggled as they checked him out. Cowboys were ordinary in the city, but ones that looked like Joel Miller were rare. The night went smoothly as you chit-chatted and caught up with your girls. Joel stayed close quietly, only getting up to get you all refills like a gentleman. “I’ll be back, darling,” he says, kissing your head as he heads back to the bar with another round of drink orders. 

“That accent could make me release in about three seconds. Tell us your secrets, girl,” your friend, Julia, jokes with you as she sips on your drink. “I bet he knows a thing or two about how to use a rope or whip.” 

“Alright, alright. You are going to make her go all shy on us! You already know he knows what he is doing. Don’t you guys remember that big hickey she tried to hide at the beach last summer?” Anne says she wants to get the other girls off the subject of her love life. They all lose interest and start talking about some new show on Netflix. 

Your focus in the conversation faded as Anne poked you to get your attention. She moved her eyes to the situation she was referring to so it wouldn’t draw too much attention. Joel was at the bar, with two girls cornering him as he ordered drinks. They stood there twirling their hair and throwing their breast towards him. He looked so annoyed at them that you almost walked over there, not in jealousy, but to protect him from them. Joel tried to pass them with the tray of drinks. They kept pressuring him, though.

Anne looked at you with an extensive shocked look, “what are you going to do?” She asked worriedly. You grinned at her concern as she looked back at you with big, worried eyes. You were going to do nothing. You knew Joel was far from interested in any of the women in this bar. It took you a long time to realize this, but you know it now.

“Nothing. There’s nothing to worry about from him. Maybe them, but not Joel,” you softly responded to your friend as you made eye contact with Joel. He rolled his eyes at the girls and pushed his way through them successfully without a word. 

“How do you know? Most men would not do something like that.” Anne responds as she watches Joel return with the round of drinks. 

“I just know,” you replied as you greeted the cowboy with a peck on the lips as you handed out the drinks to the girls. This situation made you think of why you knew you were all Joel wanted and needed. 

It was Joel’s 37 birthday, the first birthday you had spent together. Tommy decided to plan a trip to a little country bar twenty minutes from the ranch. Ellie and Sarah were seniors in high school only, so they got to stay home for this Saturday night. It was just a double date with Tommy and Mariah. 

The drinks were going down a little too fast. Mariah and Tommy showed you how to line dance, and Joel happily observed from the bar. You were making a fool of yourself at first, but the alcohol confidence came strong over you. The couple and you were having a good time as you danced together. Every once in a while, finding those brown eyes in the sea of people in this little bar. 

You had too many drinks and swung around too many times as you left the line to watch the others. You take a few sips of your drinks as your eyes wander to the bar. A girl stood beside Joel, almost whispering in his ear with a big flirty giggle. You see Joel point to you and annoyingly reply to her as his eyes never leave yours. You lose eye contact as the girl cockily turns around and grins at you. Your feet are moving slowly before you know it. “I’ll take care of this, honey,” the girl says to Joel as she turns to face you, walking over to you as she bites her lip. 

Before you know it, she was almost in your face with a loud laugh. “The cowboy said he was coming home with me tonight, gonna put his co-.” She was cut off as Joel caught your raised fist and pulled you away from her. 

“What the fuck, Joel! Let me go!” You fought back as you tried to lunge at her, the alcohol making everything fuzzy as Tommy stopped the other girl from fighting you. Joel calmed you down as he pulled you towards the bar, getting you a glass of water. “Did you say those things to her? You want to take her home?” 

“You know good and well that I didn’t, darling. Just some trashy girl who wants some attention. Ignore her.” He says to rub your back as you drink some water to calm down a little. He walks you outside towards his old truck as he helps you walk. “I hope you know you are the most intelligent, thoughtful, and beautiful woman I have ever seen. I will worship the ground you walk on until I can’t. You are all that I need and want. It’s you, only you, darling.” He says as he cups your cheeks to ground you. His words cause the drunken waterworks to start as you kiss him sweetly. By the time the two of you had gotten home, you were almost sober and hornier than ever after Joel’s passionate confession. The two of you were tangled in his sheets the rest of his birthday weekend. 

This incident and many other passionate times have shown that you are the only one for Joel. Knowing Joel's loyalty and protection over you and the ones he loves made you more confident in our relationship. You were one of a few people who knew the real sassy cowboy, Joel Miller.  

The two of you left the bar with everyone else as you helped everyone get their Uber and said goodbye. Joel drove you back to your apartment as he had only one beer the whole night. He enables you to stumble into the bathroom to do your nightly routine and shower. “I love you so much,” you mumbles against him as he helps you into one of your pajamas. 

“I love you more, darling,” he says as he kisses your head and helps you get into bed with a glass of water, headache medicine, and snacks. The two of you end the night snuggling and watching trash television while you drunkenly talk to him until you fall asleep. 

Joel held you all night as you enjoyed this special night together. He kissed your head before falling asleep, hoping this would be a regular night thing one day. 

thank you for reading! let me know what you think!🤍

[mchlgayser]

( ✮ ) 'ARE YOU JEALOUS?' ft sae itoshi

author's note 🍄: HELLO! I'm back... To write more of bllk's imagine hehe, Idk why I chose Sae tbh 🥲🤦 I don't even like that guy as much but this kind of topic suits him best, I think that's why lol. Lastly, I think this imagine is pretty much an au, not following the manga plot so it spoiler-free!!

content warning 🗯️: mention a tint of possessiveness

🧺: @iwritesjud3's navigation

'Please help me hand this to our homeroom teacher, I need to get to class early!' She nods her head at you and then rushed to the teacher's lounge whilst you walk to class.

You slid the door open alerting some of your classmates inside thinking that it was the teacher. You smile at them before waving around to tell them to sit on their assigned seats 'Next week is the festival! You guys make sure you volunteer for the festival committee.' A chorus of 'Yes' echoes through the classroom. You grin and nods before you make your way to your seat.

You reluctantly turn your head to the side to see Sae looking at you with one hand propping under his chin. You smile at him to which he did not return back but instead turn his head against.

You look back in front, empty-headed as you wait for the teacher. Minutes passed and the door slid open again but it wasn't the teacher but instead your girl-friend and the school head prefect.

'Our teacher is assigned to attend an important meeting, she asked for Asahi's help.' Your friend said returning to her seat which is in front of you.

The head prefect wrote something on the board and said 'Your homeroom teacher had asked you all to copy this!' The whole class bring out their books almost in sync and began rewriting what was on the board.

'L/n?' Asahi called 'Your teacher asked you to write today's attendance for her.' You smile and hum at him before continuing to write down.

The class ended, and you put your stuff back inside your bag and bring out your lunchbox 'Y/n? I need to talk to you for a moment.' You glance up at Asahi before momentarily nodding and getting your tumbler along with your lunch before following him outside.

Sae on the other hand witnessed the scene, and he followed you both outside. The two of you are talking at the end of the hall, before eventually separating ways. He saw your friend nearing you and you both disappear downstairs.

He has no idea what you two talks about but it's enough to make him feel sort of way that you both talks solitary.

After recess ceased, you and your friend separated because she had something to do, and you walks to class alone when suddenly a hand grasp your wrist making you wheeze. The person steadily hold a palm to your mouth to prevent you from shouting and you panicked.

The panic subsided once you realized that it was just, Sae.

'You scared me!' You complained, one hand over your chest feeling it throbbing inside you, his face is poker and steady making you feel even more creeped out 'What's wrong with you? Why do you suddenly pulled me like...'

'What did he talk to you about?' For a moment, you were perplexed, who was he talking about '...Oh, you mean Asahi?' An idea ran the course to your mind making you mentally chortle 'Nothing, he said nothing. You don't have to worry.' You untangled his hand from your wrist and were about to leave but he pin you down again 'What do you mean nothing? What. Did. He say.' He punctuated each words making you even more worked up

You push his hand away, far harsher than earlier and sigh 'I told you it's nothing. Why do you want to know anyway?' You cock a brow at him as he mirrored your expression, hard.

'It's because you are my girlfriend.'

You scoff 'That was lukewarm of you to say such a thing like that. It was your argument anyway about not wanting everyone to know about us.' He scowl at you making you laugh slightly 'He... Confessed?'

You hum, being unbothered 'So what if he did? Are you jealous?' He scoff making you irk a bit but his lack of response shows you otherwise 'You said nothing on your defense, so I guess that you are jealous? He huffs, hands folding

The place was a bit dimmed but you still manage to catch a glimpse of his pouty face, it wasn't very visible but it was there 'You are sulky.' You laugh, and he growls pushing you back against the wall 'You should stop teasing me, Y/n.'

'I will Itoshi, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry for lying because Asahi never confessed.' He looks at you, expression almost bewildered before he switches it back to his expressionless sentiment. You snorts 'You are hilarious getting so work up like this when me and him are just, taking...'

He look at you 'Lukewarm'

And then he left as you follow him close behind 'Come on, are you mad? Over small thing?' He stop grabbing you by your wrist and pull you close next to him 'If you're desperately wanted to tell them who you belongs to.' He walks back inside the hall with you hand in hand.

His head held up high making you ever giddier than before, if you know this kind of ideas would triggered him to publish your relationship, you would've done it sooner.

[goingpostal1980]

The world MUST know about this.

If you're wondering who owns your copy of The Catcher in The Rye, it's me. I legally own all copies. My collection spans lifetimes.

Let's start off by saying... the real 'atrocity' is the spelling in this document. And total lack of any apparent sense... The world has to know what they've put me through... Everyone I know has already seen this. I'm very proud. I was ecstatic to receive this letter.

More than 8... less than 25. 25 is a little too far, do we think?

So I was put on the terrorist register for this... but it's okay because they took me back off. Pretty badass, right?

Tumbler is like my diary. It's so easy to post here. I love Tumbler.

Anyway, I felt so pathologized by this. And what a loss of dignity. The only way to combat this is to share it in a way that makes me feel that I have regained power... Is posting medical documents on the internet all good with you?

Note the logo at the bottom of this next picture. 'Young people friendly'. Funny.

The letter I sent the Psychosis Team about my life story was 5 pages long and contained printed excerpts from my journals spanning back to 2022. This didn't help. I guess I'll update you all on Wednesday.

Some have said my life is like a performance art project, I guess you could say that. I care a lot about my Public Image. It's important to Keep Up Appearances. Everyone, EVERYONE is sick of this stuff. It's too late now to stop, though.

Droped as a kid innit.

This lady asked me, 'Do you Google instructions on how to make bombs?'

I told them I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't currently self harm, I don't speak to strangers online, I don't have any social media, I don't have the means to make a bomb or cause destruction in any way, and I have no solid plans to do so. I told them 2026 and they put 2025. They sent me for an MRI scan. There was no MRI scan, just an interview with a Malay doctor who was shorter than me who asked me terribly worded questions... 'What do you hallucinate?' 'How many times a day does this happen?' (If I had a Malaysian Ringgit for every time I've been asked that)

I told the school nurse I was hearing voices telling me to hurt the people around me. I was told my self harm was superficial. I was told I had 'Generalized Anxiety Disorder' and 'Depression'. The family did not find CAMHS helpful at this time...

She asked me the HEADSS assessment questions - a psychosocial tool used on teenagers. My mother turns to me and asks me, 'Are you going to tell her..? About the... John Lennon stuff?' ...I tell her no. It's irrelevant. Did they think I had a brain tumor? Like the Texas Tower Shooter? Like Charles Whitman?

H- Home and Environment

I told her I have a good relationship with my mother. I really do. I swear. I feel that throughout my entire life I have been neglected. Our house is a wreck. I will never forget the things that have been said to me throughout my life with her. I I don't know if I can fix the impact of what has happened to me.

E- Education and Employment

Yeah, I love College. I dropped out of school, innit. I guess that's cool. Thanks for asking.

A- Activities

I don't know what these are, to be totally honest.

D- Drugs

I love getting high. I was given magic mushrooms at a party when I was 14. I love smoking weed with my friend winking emoji. I love to drink. I drink once a week or more, hard liquor or beer or whatever I can find. I smoke every day. I'm not planning on quitting. I will take whatever I'm offered. I don't think it's cool. I told her I'm not interested in that kind of stuff.

S- Sexuality

No, this one's true. I'm the Super Virgin. N.F.I. Not Fucking Interested. Don't you think I have enough on my Plate?

S- Suicide and Depression

I told her the last time I self-harmed was last year, in Winter. I told her I used to have suicidal thoughts but I don't anymore because I love my life. They left me with no support over the Summer for 3 months this year and I almost died. Nobody's going to find out about that. She tested my reflexes and put her hand directly on top of my scars. Bloody hilarious, I thought, as I had a heart attack and nearly died on the spot. She told me I looked very uncomfortable. No, I don't want to die, really.

She had an absolutely abysmal bedside manner. She told me, when I saw that I had a patient with psychosis, I was so scared you'd be... violent or something. But you're so nice. Or something along those lines. They made me wait for almost an hour in the pediatric X-Ray ward surrounded by crying children and snot and my mother nearly went batshit crazy. She said there were too many broken bones. The pediatric neurologist told me she liked my hair. Twice. She said I was 'Beautiful and Well-Mannered'. Isn't that nice.

There's a lot more I could say. I'll save it for another time... isn't it funny? I think it's hilarious. That this has eaten up 2 years of my life now and there's no sign of it stopping. I have become dissilusioned with the concept of 'Mental Illness' after reading some Foucault. It didn't take much to convince me. The real problem is what's around me, not myself.

I'll tell you all about the other stuff another time.

[tinyinvadr]

New chapter yay!!!

Psychoborrower

Chapter 3

I almost had a heart attack when I made the jump into Raz’s pocket before he left. I got a bit too used to Sasha’s complete obliviousness to my existence that I forgot that most people tend to notice when something small jumps on them.

“Huh? What was that?”

I held my breath as he shook his jacket off. I wasn’t too worried about falling out, but I was definitely concerned this motion would make me throw up. That would easily give me away. And it’s gross.

He gave up pretty quickly once he realized there wasn’t a bug or animal on him, and went off like nothing happened.

Either way, this was probably the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Really. Thanks for guilt tripping me into making up with this kid, Sasha.

On the way there, I overheard his conversations with the other campers, and he came to the conclusion that one of the kids’ brains had been stolen.

Personally, I thought he was just paranoid. The kid in question was Dogen. He’s just like that.

When we got to Milla’s class, he asked Lili about it. It turns out, Raz had a vision in the tumbler about a creepy doctor that perfectly matched up with a nightmare she had been having.

That… was a lot more than paranoia.

Lili ended up leaving class early, but told Raz to meet her later by the lake so they could talk about the situation further.

I tried not to let myself get too worked up about it. After all, none of this concerned me. But at the same time… if Dogen’s brain really was missing, that could mean trouble.

The kid was extremely powerful. Too powerful. To the point where he couldn’t control his own abilities. Head-exploding abilities. And the only thing keeping them at bay was a crumby tinfoil hat. If that brain fell into the wrong hands…

No. Everything was fine. Raz and Lili were just having shared nightmares. That’s… probably normal.

Milla was hesitant to let Raz into her mind, and wasn’t thrilled when she learned Sasha was training him. She has the tendency to be very protective. It took me forever to convince her to train me. Which is kind of strange, because between her, Sasha, and the Coach, her mind is the safest. There are a few Censors here and there, but there aren’t any platforms that you can really fall off of. The course is designed for levitation training, and it accommodates for that very purpose perfectly.

After some convincing, she let us in. Raz wasn’t as shocked by my presence, but he did seem annoyed. As for Milla, she was overjoyed.

“Flint! It’s so good to see you again, darling! And it’s so nice to see you’ve made a friend!”

Raz and I kind of just avoided eye contact for a minute, and Milla stopped dancing on the TV monitor when she took note of the uncomfortable silence.

“Oh, I see… Well, not to worry! A party is the best place to work out your problems, so I’m sure whatever’s going on between you two will sort itself out! Now then, Razputin, I’ve given you your Levitation learner’s permit. Finish the course, and you’ll get your merit badge! Start whenever you’re ready!”

I’d already done the course before, so I just hopped on my Thought Bubble and rolled on ahead.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Raz called after me.

“Sasha said I had to attend class with you. He didn’t say we had to stick together the entire time.”

“But he also said we have to try and get along. If we’re gonna become Psychonauts together-”

“Whoa, together? Where’d you get that from? It would take a miracle for them to let either one of us in, but there’s no way they’d accept both of us. And frankly, I’d question their judgement if they picked you over me, newbie.”

It didn’t take long for him to catch up to me. It was infuriating how quickly he took to every single thing he learned. He was a natural, and I hated it.

“What makes you so sure they won’t take us both? I mean, even if it’s not at the same time, eventually-”

I bumped my Thought Bubble into his, sending him rolling backwards. I was so sick of him. Natural talent. Misguided optimism. He really thought we could be teammates. Maybe in a perfect world that wasn’t pitted against me and actively sought out people like him. Maybe in a world where the game wasn’t rigged in his favor. But no. He was gonna get everything he wanted, and I’d be left with nothing, stuck at this stupid baby camp that I was only a year away from aging out of.

He rebounded from the bump and caught up to me again as I desperately kept trying to lose him.

“I just don’t get what your problem with me is. What did I ever do?”

I kept going, trying to ignore him. Then, he surprised me once again, bouncing right in front of me and bumping me back. It was with a lot less force, but enough to stop me.

“Hey, look. I can tell you’re going through something right now. And… I am too. To tell you the truth, I’m starting to doubt I’ll get there in time. My Dad’s gonna be here tomorrow. He’ll take me back to the circus where I’ll never be allowed to use my powers again. But even if it seems hard, that doesn’t mean we can’t still try, right?”

I sighed, rolling ahead and motioning for him to follow me. We made our way to the first dance platform, where the other campers and several mental dancers were enjoying the party. I sat myself down in one of the lounge seats and pointed to the space next to me until Raz got the hint.

Neither of us spoke for a minute. We just sat there, observing the party. At one point, a mental waitress brought us drinks. I started drinking mine right away while Raz looked at me like I had just committed a crime.

“Um… are these-?”

“Nonalcoholic. Milla would never think of giving a kid the real stuff.”

Even after I told him, he still looked at the glass in his hand like it was full of poison, until he eventually decided it was fine and took a sip.

“It’s good.”

We continued to sit and take in the atmosphere of the party. I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know where to begin, or how much to reveal. So, I started the simplest way I could.

“I ran away from home too, you know.”

Raz seemed surprised.

“But… you’ve been coming here for years. Didn’t the counselors try to contact your parents?”

I chuckled. “My folks aren’t exactly easy to get in contact with, so they’ve been begrudgingly letting me live here ever since. It’s not like they can do much about it, since no one ever sees me.”

“Why do you do that? The invisibility thing, I mean. And how are you able to hold it for that long? Milka’s invisible pretty much all the time but I still see her between recharges.”

Right. There was another kid at camp that did the whole invisibility thing. Well, she was actually invisible. I just lied about it so no one would realize the real reason they haven’t seen me in the physical world. Ironically, it’s my weakest psychic power.

“I value my privacy. And just because I agreed to talk to you doesn’t mean I have to reveal all my secrets. But it looks like things are pretty hopeless for us right now, so I don’t see much of a point picking a fight with you anymore.”

“It’s not hopeless! There’s something weird going on around camp. Have you seen Dogen lately?”

I nodded. “Yeah. But are you sure his brain is missing?”

“There’s nothing between his ears! I could see right through his head!”

Oh wow, that’s… horrifying, actually.

“I saw a vision in the Brain Tumbler of Dogen with this creepy dentist who said he was gonna take his brain out. I couldn’t get all the way up to the tower without levitation, so that’s why I’m taking this course.”

At that, I got up from my seat and got back on my Thought Bubble.

“In that case, we should get moving. No time to sit around and chat. If this is as serious as you say it is, you need that merit badge ASAP. Follow me, I’ll show you the fastest way through.”

I could see the way his eyes lit up when he realized I was finally gonna help him with training. I hated to admit it, but it did feel nice knowing that this kid looked up to me, even after I was such a jerk to him. It felt like maybe all my training meant something after all.

We made our way up to the next part of the course, where you use your Thought Bubble to roll over dangerous elements. It was really the only major hazard in Mills’s mind, and as long as you levitated like you were supposed to, no harm would come to you.

At least, nothing happened to me. Raz, it turns out, was a special case. He could easily roll over fire, electricity, even radioactive waste. But when he tried to roll over the pool of water, something strange happened. His bubble suddenly popped, and he started flailing around as if something was trying to pull him down.

I grabbed onto him right away and pulled him up so he could get back on his bubble.

“What was that? Water is like, the least lethal obstacle. Why did that one throw you off?”

He looked back at the pool warily as if he could see something in it.

“My family has this problem with water. Psychics cursed all of us to die if we go into any deep body of water. I guess not even my own powers are enough to combat that.”

Wow… With every new thing I learned about psychics, I kept falling into the same trap of thinking I knew everything.

“I didn’t know psychics could curse people.”

“I don’t think it’s common. But… just once was enough to make my Dad hate all psychics. That’s why I ran away. It’s just so frustrating… I never asked for these powers. They’re not going away, and I don’t want them to, either. They’re a part of who I am, but that doesn’t make me evil! And I’m pretty sure he’s also a psychic, so why is he being so hard on me? I just… I’m sorry for dumping all this on you.”

I’d heard this all before in my own mind. Being forced to suppress a major part of yourself in order to please everyone around you… I could understand that from more than one perspective. Against my better judgement, I felt genuinely sorry for the kid.

My parents always told me not to think of humans as being like us. They didn’t deserve our pity because they could never understand how easy they have it compared to us. There was no point in thinking of them as complex people because they would never see us that way. Instead, they were nothing but living obstacles to be avoided.

But Raz knew what it was like to be treated like an outcast, even by his own family. Maybe it wasn’t the same. Maybe he still had it better than I did. Maybe this was all a side effect of me astral projecting as a human for too long. But I didn’t see him as a threat anymore. I saw him for what he was: a lost, scared kid just trying to find himself.

I saw… me.

“Hey, Raz… it’s okay. I get it. And if you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

He nodded, giving a slight smile.

“Thanks, Flint.”

We rolled on ahead to the racetrack, where we won the race, and more importantly, kicked Bobby Zilch’s ass. From there we floated up towards the end of the course, blew up a few Censors, and finally made it to the end, where we were greeted by Milla.

“So glad you could make it! Now the party can really start! Let’s get you that merit badge, darling!”

We didn’t have much time to stick around and party, so Milla let us take our leave after Raz got his badge.

When we were back in our bodies and Raz started to head back to Sasha’s lab, I was lost in thought. For once, it wasn’t in a paranoid way. I was content. Even though I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the full truth, it felt like we were still supporting each other in the physical world. Sure, he had no idea I was in his pocket, but that didn’t matter. I was there as a hidden source of moral support, and he was unknowingly carrying me and sheltering me from danger.

It was sort of like the dynamic I’d come to have with Sasha and Milla, but it was nice to have someone around who was closer to my age. This was the closest I could have to a real friend.

In short, Raz was far from the worst thing to happen at camp. No, that was yet to come…

[ltwharfy]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @daddygrandpaandthebeaver for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10.

2. What’s your total word count?

25,908 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bob's Burgers

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

It's my five oldest fics, but not in release date order: 1. "I Will Call You Pet Names No One Knows" (aka 2.2k words about Rudy's name); 2. "Surely It's Okay If I Just Tell Pancake?" (Rudy tells his stuffed flounder about the events of "Bob Actually"); 3. "Former Guidance Counselor of the Bride (and Groom)" (Louise and Rudy's wedding told from the POV of Mr. Frond, of course); 4 (a tie!). "Dance Like Nobody's Watching" (Rudy sees Louise dancing to Boyz 4 Now song at a store, awkwardness ensues) and "Old Friends/Bookends" (Rudy and Louise rediscover Pancake when moving to their new apartment).

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I adore getting comments. Whether its just a stream of incomprehensible happy letters or paragraphs describing favorite parts, I appreciate anyone taking the time to say something nice about my stories and I try to say something nice back to them ASAP.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So, I don't really write angst. My real job is pretty depressing (I'm a lawyer for poor people in the midwestern US!) so when I'm writing (or reading) fic, I tend to gravitate towards the sweet, soft, and silly.

That said, I think my most recent fic, "And In the Backseats We Just Tried to Find Some Room to Breath", has a kind of melancholy ending. Although the very last line is a shippy Roudise line because I couldn't help myself, the image I really want to end with- Rudy quietly sitting by himself in the backseat of his father's car looking out the window at the night sky after an emotionally draining evening, it's not angsty but I think it's less warm and fluffy than some of my other stuff.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That would be the wedding story, I think. Not only are Louise and Rudy totally in love with each other, just married, and having a great time but Mr. Frond realizes that he has had an even bigger impact on his students' lives in ways he hadn't really thought about, and that really means a lot to me, too. I still think the last paragraph or two of that story might be my favorite thing I've written; I just go back and reread it sometimes and feel like a baseball batter watching a home run sail into the upper deck- like I totally nailed that one!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I never have, and I really appreciate it. Everyone I've interacted with in Bob's Burgers fandom on AO3 and Tumbler has been really sweet and chill. One thing that particularly stands out to me is that first fic actually has a minor continuity error in it (I thought that Louise actually told Rudy that Chloe was flirting with him for test answers in "Bob Actually" and only discovered last month that she doesn't give that detail.) Nobody ever mentioned that to me in comments on the fic- every comment I got was just people loving the fic. Either no one noticed this or they didn't care about it enough to throw it in my face, and I appreciate that.

9. Do you write smut?

I never have, but I feel like at some point I probably will end up writing some Rudy/Louise as adults smut. Whenever I have story ideas about them when they are older the ideas inevitably end with them making out, and at some point I'll probably just decide "why stop there?"

For example, the last line of "Old Friends/Bookends" is: "'Of course…', he said, and took he took her by the hand as they eagerly headed to the bedroom." When I was writing that, just for my own amusement with no intention of keeping it in, I added: "And then they boned!" and then immediately deleted that. But, y'know, my mind goes there.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope. Not opposed to them, just never had an idea for one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

So, they were never actually published as fics, but when I was a kid in the early 90s I was really in to "Star Trek: The Next Generation" and developed a number of spinoff series of my own. One, "Starfleet Academy", my cousin and I created together.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I want to make some clever joke here, but I can't think of one. It's Louise/Rudy. 80% of my stories are about them. They are the reason I got into reading and then writing "Bob's Burgers" fanfic, they are the reason I am on tumblr. I've loved "Bob's Burgers" since it started, but the need for more content about them pulled me deeper into this fan community than I've been in anything else in a while.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I've tried to finish everything that I've started, but I've currently got three unfinished WIPs in Word. The one that is least likely to see the light of day, or will be really significantly reworked if it does, was a story I started this summer about teenaged Rudy being nervous about asking Louise on their first real date and talking to his dad about it. it's called "Dating Advice from Mr. 'I'd Let That Dump Me'" (which I do love as a title).

"The Amazing Rudy" has sort of made me reevaluate the way I thought about Rudy and his dad. I actually had a more positive impression of Sylvester than a lot of fans- at the risk of oversharing, it was because I thought that-even with his flaws- he seemed to be doing the divorced dad thing better than my own dad did. And, after "The Amazing Rudy", I just feel like I'd have to write more about how Rudy and Sylvester's relationship evolved over the years- and how Sylvester grew as a person and a father- to get them to the place I had them in that story. And maybe I'll want to do that at some point, but right now I don't.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Writing stories that other people invariably describe as "cute"! I'm kind of joking, but that does always happen even though I'd say really only one of my written stories was written with the express intention of being cute.

More seriously, I love (and think I'm good at) getting inside characters' heads and really describing their emotions and thought process. Rudy was the first character I wrote about, and I find it easy to get in his head because he reminds me so much of myself as a boy, but when I got compliments for writing from other characters' perspectives- especially Louise's- it made me feel like I really have a knack for that.

I also think I am pretty good at capturing the character's voices in dialogue. I really writing enjoyed "For the Boy Who has (Allergies to) Everything" because it was my first effort at writing Belcher sibling dialogue (and Sgt. Bosco!) and I was pleased with how it turned out.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. I love writing about emotions and writing fun dialogue, but none of my stories have particularly involved plots. The plots are basically just a background to the feelings and/or dialogue. Half of my stories are built directly on actual episodes- I have three that are essentially episode tags, one that's basically a prologue, and one that is a missing scene focused on two background characters.

I have an outline for what would be my most plot intensive project- "Workers of the Wharf, Unite!" a story about Louise as an adult helping the Wonder Wharf employees form a union- and I've got bits of dialogue and thoughts all written out, but then there are big places that just say "stuff happens". I've yet to figure out the stuff that needs to happen. That's the hardest part for me. I hope I do figure it out eventually, because I love the idea and there's a scene I've partially drafted that would be near the end between Bob and Louise that I think would be beautiful and really encapsulates how I see Louise's character and Bob as a father.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I was surprised to realize I did it once! In "The Life of the Symposium (aka Party)", I have Arnold say "Domo arigato" to Kaylee. Which would be about all the Japanese I know. But I thought it made sense for Arnold's character given his love of Karate that he would pick up a little Japanese.

I took German and Spanish at different points in my life but really don't remember much beyond ordering food (German) or asking for directions (Spanish). So, if I ever put another language in a fic, it would most likely be like Tina's song in "The Cook, the Steve, the Gayle, and Her Lover"- basic phrases used for comic effect.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

"Star Trek". This started when I was a preteen and first got into TNG. I came up with several of my own Star Trek spinoffs. First, the incredibly originally titled "Star Trek: The Third Generation", then "Star Trek: Discovery" (sadly or fortunately, no resemblance to the current show of that name beyond the ship being named Discovery), "Starfleet Command" and the Academy show I mentioned with my cousin. Most of this stuff was just done for my own amusement, but I think I may have published some of it on AOL. And I think some of the "episode" titles and summaries (the main thing I wrote) are on 3.5 by 5 floppy disks back at my mom's. (I feel so old typing that sentence knowing how few of the people who will read it will be able to relate. I am Rudy's Dad making the "Party of Five" reference to the hostess who was born in 2002.)

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I could say the wedding fic or "In the Backseats..." because they both mean a lot to me but I'm going to go with one I haven't mentioned yet "Happy Anniversary (Whenever It Is...)" It was written for a Flufftober prompt and in response to "The Amazing Rudy" and it is the one fic I really wrote with the explicit intent of being cute. It's about high school age Louise and Rudy, who are officially a couple, playfully arguing over what their anniversary date should be. it is loaded with as many callbacks as I could cram into it, and just a lot of fun dialogue. It includes two really nerdy jokes that may be my favorite jokes in any of my stories.

It is also really my love letter to that relationship. Putting aside any shippy/romance aspect, I just think they've done such an amazing job showing those two characters growing closer together in a way that just feels like the natural growth of a friendship. They have such a better understanding of each other, and are so much closer at the end of "The Amazing Rudy" then they were at the end of "Carpe Museum" and you can see that developing logically as a result of other episodes like "The Kids Rob A Train" and "House of 1,000 Bounces", and "The Hawkening", etc. Someday, I may write an essay about that...

Also, I think that story has the vibe of the framing story to one of those clip shows that TV shows used to make (I especially associate them with 80s sitcoms like "Family Ties"). Like it would be:

Louise: What about the wine train...

CUT TO clip from "The Kids Rob A Train"

And as someone who grew up on 80s/90s sitcoms, I actually kind of love that!

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

Grocery shopping for the next couple of weeks is done. I made an order from Walmart and as soon as it was brought to me I realized I needed like five or six more things. So I had to go back out. Then since hubby is at work I had to bring everything in myself which is just exhausting. I think I am owed a nap.

My sister asked what I wanted for Christmas and it was pretty hard because I really have everything I need. I asked for more bedding and I've had my eye on some Firefly glass bracelets. I see the ads for Nogu constantly on here. I've been looking at the bracelets there and of course the more I look the more ads they send me. It's just their bracelets are fairly expensive and I'm so afraid that I'm going to spend the money and then they are not going to look like the ones in the pictures. I really want the green glow in the dark glass. So I found one on Etsy that was half the price and my sister ordered it. She also ordered us some monogram sheets and a bunch of bedding that just arrived today and I haven't even had the energy to open it up.

However she had also sent me something much earlier in the month that we had had a hard time getting delivered because neither one of us were home whenever you UPS came by. I started getting really curious about it because she said it was something very special that she saw it and thought of me. Well. , , it was delivered yesterday and oh boy...... I kind of felt like someone had given me a leg lamp. It was a set of super heavy Green Glass candelabras with dangling beads coming off the sides. And in the candelabras were these electronic candles that supposedly had their own remote control for that controlled how they flickered. It was the biggest ugliest monstrosity I think I have ever seen. And I guess she thought of me because it was Green and the Green Glass is very pretty but oh my God........ it's hideous. And I'm not even sure what the remote control is supposed to do we got the candles to turn on and that's about it.

They are so unbelievably heavy I guess if I could swing them they would make a great self-defense weapon. That's about the only good thing I can say for them.

But she is the only family I have and it is a thought that counts so I'm glad she was thinking of me.

Tomorrow I am going to go and send off my final Christmas present Period I was able to get two of my closest friends And my sister Personalized tumblers from this place that does it locally. For my other friend who Is usually In much more need of groceries, I sent a gift card from Walmart and she was able to get herself an air fryer and a few groceries with it. So that made me happy.

Tuesday I'm sitting up a table at the only coffee shop in town where I happen to know the owner fairly well. I'm trying to sell off these dozens upon dozens of extra Mary Kay cosmetics I ended up with.

I had ordered some of them for a teacher that I work with but when I had to discipline her absolutely hateful and disrespectful son who told almost every teacher on campus---- including her --'to shut up and go to hell.

I don't know what he told her about me but suddenly she did not speak to me anymore,, & hasn't spoken to me in the last year.

So of course she was unwilling to purchase all the Cosmetics she had actually ordered from me once they came in. *sigh*

Also last year I had to order $300 worth of cosmetics in order to keep my status as consultant. But then I just ran out of the energy to go out and sell the stuff. Most days I just want to go home and go to bed I don't want to track down any clients I don't want to give makeovers I just want to sleep. So anyway I'm trying to make whatever I can offer them and selling them cheap as stocking stuffers monday. Going to try to drag my carcass out of bed early and catch the morning Rush of people and I am so hoping I can sell a few things just to get them out of my hair.

[shannyh25]

"Now, please help yourself, Diana," she said politely. "I don't believe I'll have any just now. I don't feel as if I wanted any after all those apples.”

Diana poured herself out a tumblerful, looked at its bright-red hue admiringly, and then sipped it daintily.

"That's awfully nice raspberry cordial, Anne," she said. "I didn't know raspberry cordial was so nice."

"I'm real glad you like it. Take as much as you want. I'm going to run out and stir the fire up. There are so many responsibilities on a person's mind when they're keeping house, isn't there?"

When Anne came back from the kitchen Diana was drinking her second glassful of cordial; and, being entreated thereto by Anne, she offered no particular objection to the drinking of a third. The tumblerfuls were generous ones and the raspberry cordial was certainly very nice.

"The nicest I ever drank," said Diana. "It's ever so much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's, although she brags of hers so much. It doesn't taste a bit like hers."

"I should think Marilla's raspberry cordial would prob'ly be much nicer than Mrs. Lynde's," said Anne loyally. "Marilla is a famous cook. She is trying to teach me to cook but I assure you, Diana, it is uphill work. There's so little scope for imagination in cookery. You just have to go by rules. The last time I made a cake I forgot to put the flour in. I was thinking the loveliest story about you and me, Diana. I thought you were desperately ill with smallpox and everybody deserted you, but I went boldly to your bedside and nursed you back to life; and then I took the smallpox and died and I was buried under those poplar trees in the graveyard and you planted a rosebush by my grave and watered it with your tears; and you never, never forgot the friend of your youth who sacrificed her life for you. Oh, it was such a pathetic tale, Diana. The tears just rained down over my cheeks while I mixed the cake. But I forgot the flour and the cake was a dismal failure. Flour is so essential to cakes, you know. Marilla was very cross and I don't wonder. I'm a great trial to her. She was terribly mortified about the pudding sauce last week. We had a plum pudding for dinner on Tuesday and there was half the pudding and a pitcherful of sauce left over. Marilla said there was enough for another dinner and told me to set it on the pantry shelf and cover it. I meant to cover it just as much as could be, Diana, but when I carried it in I was imagining I was a nun--of course I'm a Protestant but I imagined I was a Catholic--taking the veil to bury a broken heart in cloistered seclusion; and I forgot all about covering the pudding sauce. I thought of it next morning and ran to the pantry. Diana, fancy if you can my extreme horror at finding a mouse drowned in that pudding sauce! I lifted the mouse out with a spoon and threw it out in the yard and then I washed the spoon in three waters. Marilla was out milking and I fully intended to ask her when she came in if I'd give the sauce to the pigs; but when she did come in I was imagining that I was a frost fairy going through the woods turning the trees red and yellow, whichever they wanted to be, so I never thought about the pudding sauce again and Marilla sent me out to pick apples. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Chester Ross from Spencervale came here that morning. You know they are very stylish people, especially Mrs. Chester Ross. When Marilla called me in dinner was all ready and everybody was at the table. I tried to be as polite and dignified as I could be, for I wanted Mrs. Chester Ross to think I was a ladylike little girl even if I wasn't pretty. Everything went right until I saw Marilla coming with the plum pudding in one hand and the pitcher of pudding sauce warmed up, in the other. Diana, that was a terrible moment. I remembered everything and I just stood up in my place and shrieked out `Marilla, you mustn't use that pudding sauce. There was a mouse drowned in it. I forgot to tell you before.' Oh, Diana, I shall never forget that awful moment if I live to be a hundred. Mrs. Chester Ross just looked at me and I thought I would sink through the floor with mortification. She is such a perfect housekeeper and fancy what she must have thought of us. Marilla turned red as fire but she never said a word--then. She just carried that sauce and pudding out and brought in some strawberry preserves. She even offered me some, but I couldn't swallow a mouthful. It was like heaping coals of fire on my head. After Mrs. Chester Ross went away, Marilla gave me a dreadful scolding. Why, Diana, what is the matter?

Diana had stood up very unsteadily; then she sat down again, putting her hands to her head.

"I'm--I'm awful sick," she said, a little thickly. "I--I--must go right home.”

"Oh, you mustn't dream of going home without your tea," cried Anne in distress. "I'll get it right off--I'll go and put the tea down this very minute."

"I must go home," repeated Diana, stupidly but determinedly. Lucy Maud Montgomery quotes- Anne Of Green Gables.

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[missed-connections-of-fear]

Right, uh-

Statement of Lynn Harring, Regarding a sequence of events leading her to well.. whatever all "this" is. Submitted via ask on Tumbler, May 8th 2023.

Statement begins.

It happened during summer vacation. I was 12, maybe 13, when I was just getting ready for bed. Mom was asleep in my parents' bedroom, and my dad was playing a game in his office next to my room.It was storming outside, so I fell asleep to the rain pretty quickly. I wasn't all that surprised when this beep noise woke me up, looked around my room, and saw the power went out. I didn't think much of it. I thought a powerline just went out and tried to fall back asleep.

That's when it started happening. When the tapping began. It went on for maybe 2 minutes before I just said,

"Hey! I'm trying to sleep here!"

I just meant it as a joke, something to maybe scare off an animal or maybe calm my growing nerves.

To my surprise, it actually stopped. I only heard the rain, my heartbeat, and occasional crack of thunder.

After a few minutes of peace, it got worse. The calm taps became frantic scratching, like a dog pawing at a door. It kept growing more insistent as my anxiety grew. I think I actually started crying when something started breathing hard and fast.

I kept yelling for someone, anyone to help, or atleast come to me, but no one did.

At that point I was screaming for it to stop, to leave, to go away, but it just became more and more disturbing.

It sounded like it was coming in through my wall and was getting closer to breaking in. My anxiety skyrocketed when I heard the mesh screen of my window ripping. I yelled for my dad to help, tears flooding my vision as it kept getting worse. I kept saying the same thing over and over

"Go away, leave me alone, stop-"

But nothing happened, all I knew for those moments in absolute darkness with this "creature" trying to get inside, was that no one was coming. That they couldn't hear me.

That I wasn't going to last much longer if I didn't move. I tried to run or grab something to throw, but I couldn't move, I was too focused on my own fear.

After what seemed like hours the power went back on, all my little lights came back, and it stopped. The tapping was gone, the scratching stopped, and the breathing was no longer heard.

I kept crying and didn't stop even when my mother burst in through my door, cursing at my dad about,

"How could you not hear her screaming bloody murder? Why didn't you help? Why weren't you there?"

...

After a few hours, I woke up around 11:30. I grabbed my dads bat, and went outside. I walked up to my bedroom window, and prepared to see my wall torn to splinters and threads. But I found nothing.

No footprints, no claw marks, no bits of fur or scales or whatever. Nothing, just my window as it had always been. The screen was intact, and there were no signs that anything happened.

It had been 12 years since then, and hadn't happened since. The power went out a few months ago, I didn't think anything of it, until I heard tapping outside my kids window.

Vex is a very heavy sleeper, to the point that some think she's dead till she rolls over, and Kaytlin was out with some friends. So I packed a bag with things I would need. Flashlights, knives, matches, and enough batteries to make a dent in a Vast Domain. Then I headed out. Whatever this creature was could stalk me all it wanted, but it would NOT harm my kids.

I didn't really have anything to follow, so I just walked along the street, keeping my eye out for anything weird. That's when it started. I heard the frantic breathing of some animal, and the tapping began. It kept getting louder as the streets grew darker, and some little voice inside me told me that it was the thing coming after me.

Thinking back on it, running wasn't the best idea, but it was all I could do. I needed to come up with a plan or buy some time, but all I could focus on was finding an advantage point and getting some distance.

In the end, whatever was practically on me caught up. I felt this pain. It was like a cold burn, the type you get when you hold ice for too long. I couldn't see anything, not even my hand, I had nothing. I tried to reach for my flashlight, but I couldn't feel it. I grabbed my knife like it would do something, but I had nothing to stab at. It was just darkness. I kept grabbing for something, but how was I supposed to hold a living shadow?

I felt something stab me. It hurt, and I must've blacked out.

I don't know what happened next. I just remember feeling numb all over, being lifted up. My hands and shirt felt wet, and my side was throbbing. I heard yelling, one filled with pure rage and one for me to hold on. I think Kaytlin got me home, while Vex scared off whatever this "thing" was, but I'm still not sure.

I think I woke up a few weeks later, I thought I was dead for a bit, in all honesty. It's probably not unheard of to come back from something like that alive, but odds weren't in my favor.

When I came to, well.. I was claimed.

I don't know if the thing was trying to make me an Avatar or if it wanted me dead. I'm still worried it might come back to finish the job. All I know is that I'm done running from these things. If it wants me dead, I'll take it with me myself.

Statement ends.

(Sorry to the people who live on my street for the power outage.. I'll try not to do it again-)

-Lynn

I’m sorry you went through that. Thanks for the statement though.

- Rose

[thrudgelmir2333]

“Anxiety Writing”, Imperator Rome, Antiquity, Lance’s Role and my infuriating obsession with a “Catholic Fantasy” cartoon for children

Since I’ve decided to focus a bit more effort on Tumblr after basically being a whole year quiet, to the point I published ten whole chapters since the last time I publicised one here, I thought I’d try my hand at writing a blog post too, since that’s kind of what this site is supposed to be about. 1. Confessions about being the biggest Saint Seiya Tsundere People who know me online, even tangentially, whether on Discord, Fanfiction.net, Twitter or Tumbler, know one thing about me; I have an obsession with a pathetic excuse of a show called Saint Seiya. Or Knights of the Zodiac. Or whatever you wanna call it, I don’t care, call it Power Rangers: Ancient Greece if you want to.

But frankly? I kind of despise this franchise. I mean the whole of it. I really do. It’s so bad, to an embarassing level, like a B movie cashing in on a trend. It makes me genuinely embarassed that half the things I have to talk about with anyone about the last 10 years of my life are either about depression, college or Saint Seiya. And when I’m not embarassed by it, I’m infuriated, because Saint Seiya, for those of you who don’t know, is one of those franchises that has become endlessly commodified online. They’re a bit too aware of their own success and have decided to bank on it for the rest of its irrelevant existence, endlessly pumping out bad cartoons and CGI-filled movies to raise the appeal of the toys and DVDs they want to sell.

And yet, I have the ignoble badge of having spent those ten years writing a shockingly long fanfic of it, a fanfic that I pretty much work on every other day or so for the past 4000 days of my life. And this is the only life I’m gonna get lol Not only have I written Lance’s Role, a incoherent behemoth of a fic, but I’ve befriended SS fanfic writers, I’ve reviewed SS writing, I’ve commissioned art, I’ve climbed my way to a top of a SS Discord server that I didn’t even create, I’ve hosted streams of episodes of all of its spinoffs to friends and I’ve endlessly discussed every minute aspect of this franchise, from Seiya’s character flanderisation in classic Saint Seiya, to the accidentally sexual language of the scene of Athena “taking in Saga’s knife”, to the lighting on Chakram Europa’s monologue in Saint Seiya Omega. Like, the bots on those servers tracking everyone’s posting experience speak for themselves; I’ve talked about SS more than some of its oldest and most ferverous members combined.

Why do I do this? lol Wtf is the matter with me? I’m a 30 year old college graduate that barely even liked this show when I saw it on TV back in the 90s, in the few moments of my off-hours when I wasn’t being dragged to church masses, or other social gatherings my parents didn’t really even believe in. Why have I revolved my headspace around a show I don’t like or respect?

A couple years back, my friend @zebulonwallace told me that a friend of hers once described Saint Seiya as “Catholic Fantasy”. We talked in-depth about it and why her friend claimed it and really, even when discounting the regions this show is popular at (France, Latin America, etc). While I feel like that moment made a lightbulb turn on my head about why I can’t forget about this stupid show, it’s just too easy an explanation. It’s too convenient and comfortable and it puts the hot lightbulb too away from myself. It doesn’t take a degree in media literacy to see that SS is packed to the brim with catholic imagery. Saori herself is one big Virgin Mary figure, especially in the 4th movie of Saint Seiya which, guess what, stars the DEVIL as the villain. So, I think it’s time to fess up that there is no good reason for these last ten years of my life. I’m just an obsessive idiot who found an easy target. That’s the truth. Saint Seiya is my stress toy because, frankly, it’s easy and comfortable to criticise it. It doesn’t take a lot of in-depth thinking out of me to point out its flaws and, frankly, that makes it less of a threat to my ego. It also has a very fractured and, paradoxically, unquestioning fanbase, which makes it very easy for me to levy arguments against pretty much every single niche in it whenever I want to feel superior to someone who thinks “Seiya is a true role model” or that “it’s fine that Lost Canvas has bad writing, cause Gold Saintz be hot”. If I was writing for One Piece or something, however, a franchise I have much greater admiration for, I would be competing with people with a lot more imagination and media savviness. Lance’s Role, which is essentially my personal anxiety outlet, would be under a lot more scrutiny in such spaces.

Why Saint Seiya, of all things, though? Why not Bleach, which is more modern, equally flawed and even somewhat inspired by Saint Seiya? Well, because fucking Bleach doesn’t have Ancient Greece on it, you dingus! Duh! It’s about fashion magazine Samurais wearing hip clothing, not people being drawn on pots chocking a lion or something : v 2. Imperator Rome and Antiquity Nerdism So, what some people might not know about me in my spaces (or maybe they do), is that I’m also a big fan of history and geography. My mother was a geography teacher herself, my father was... part of a questionable culture of historical revisionism BUT ALSO a respected journalist in our area, so I think I just have it in my blood to have a deep curiosity about how history and geography relate to eachother. It permeates everything I do and, even in my early years, I had a fascination for Ancient Greece and Rome, because they were the closest sources of the topic I could understand.

As such, I’m also a big fan of video games heavy on history and geography. This manifests itself in me having 1250 hours of playing Imperator Rome, a game even some of the most ardent Paradox Interactive fans barely have a tenth of the time spent on, and that time in IR is almost a tenth of the time I’ve probably spent writing Lance’s Role. Imperator Rome, despite its name, is frankly a lot more about celebrating the Hellenistic Period than the Roman one, with a lot of features and tidbits dedicated to the history of the Diadochi states, Makedonia, Greece, the Indian Mauryias and even the extinct Aechemenid Empire. Hell, Rome is almost just the easy-access gateway civilisation you play before you inevitably dive into the rabbit hole that are Diadochi soap-opera intrigues.

And if you dive into this rabbit hole, the first thing you realise is that there’s so much more to Antiquity than you even imagined. I never heard in my life of Antigonus Monophtalmos, and now I think he’s some kind of super one-eyed mega-general worthy of his own page on Badass of the Week, a dude who spent his life routinely dunking on his fellow former friends and was the first of Alexander’s subordinates to dare proclaim himself King and try to reunite his lands, only to then meet his end when some random dude hit him with a javelin. Yes, the guy got killed by a freaking random mook who got close enough to throw a stick. And that was the first battle his side would ever lose. That’s so comically tragic that its like something out of the Illiad or whatever. Eumenes of Cardia, the secretary of Alexander the Great that Antigonus defeated and killed, is such an obscure and interesting character that there’s AN ENTIRE AWARD-WINNING MANGA made about him by Itoshi Iwaaki called ‘Historie’. Imperator Rome even references it in its achievements. How cool is that? Moreover, I also never heard of how much of a dingus Antigonus’ son Demetrius was and how his fuck ups and delusions created a cascade of fails that, through his descendancy, led to the fall of Greece to Rome and effectively the beginning of the end of the Hellenistic Period. And did you know Phyrrus of Epirus, the fabled coiner of the phrase “Phyrric Victory”, died not in battle, but because while he was occupying Argos in a war, some random old lady hit him with a roof tile over the head, and his enemies decapitated him? The guy spent a decade of his life going up and down Sicily, fighting both Carthage AND a nascent Rome, and the thing that does him in was your nasty gradma complaining from her window how your horse was eating her flowers, or something. This was such a tragic end that Phyrrus’ enemy, the descendant of Antigonus, punished his son for cutting off Phyrrus’ head, because it reminded him of the curse his own family felt. Forget it, this isn’t like the Illiad, this is borderline Shakesperean. This is Hamlet, Greek-edition. Or I guess Hamlet is Phyrrus, Danish-Edition. Or is it English? I also never understood the cascade of complexity that was Egyptian dynastic history and its screwed up mix of monumentality and petty intrigue until Imperator Rome gave me a framework to understand its geography and rulers and encouraged me to read more about Antoquity outside of Ancient Greece. I found myself thinking back to the character of the graphic novel Watchmen, Ozymandias, and how he went from admiring Alexander the Great to admiring Ramses instead, cause holy crap, Ramses... was also kind of an incredible character of history. No, really, there are so many characters in antiquity, female and male, poor and rich, generals or philosophers, Greeks or Persians or Egyptians or Levantine, who are so immensely interesting and wrapped in legend that, in a way, Greek Mythology *falls short* of real life Antiquity people. I feel like I’ve barely dipped my toes. And hell, this is just one region, in one continent, in one era of the world. I will never understand fully the complexity of the Chinese Warring States period, because there’s just so much to go into it, but I definitely appreciate more the immensity of it. In a way, you could say reality, at least the recorded one, is endlessly more fascinating than the myths it inspires. .... *sigh* And then you have a show like Saint Seiya. ╯︿╰ 3. What Saint Seiya is, what it is not Allow me to be serious for a second; I don’t believe Saint Seiya should or could be this one big epic tribute to the comically complex history of the Eastern Mediterranean. At the end of the day, it’s Power Rangers: Ancient Greece. That’s all it’s ever going to be. It wouldn’t even be entertaining if it was loaded with all this lore. Saint Seiya appeals to a very popular conception of astrology, greek mythology and catholic imagery, all three things popular and various demographics, both in the West and the East, and mixes it in with shounen fluff from the late 80s. Saint Seiya is a show for children. And (wo)man-children. It’s not “Game of Thrones”. And that’s fine, lol

... But it doesn’t mean the potential isn’t there, does it? Or that its appropriation (if this term can be used) of Eastern Mediterranean mythology (specifically the Greek one) to drive up its appeal in markets is any less apparent. Right? And when you combine it with all the loose ends, unfinished character arcs and wonky timeline welding between the various spin offs, there’s just this big, fertile middle ground there, just tempting you to do something with it! So, what is an obsessive nerd like me supposed to do with all that untapped wealth just sitting there? Just bitch and complain that no one with a Toei badge on their suit will dig it for me, like so many do? Just endlessly whine that no one will put at the helm some sycophant artist regurgitating Shingo Araki’s style on Twitter? Well, no. That’s stupid. There’s honestly a lot of fertile ground in Saint Seiya to tell stories. All you really gotta do is plant a seed and water it and I guarantee; it will bloom. I have had endless conversations with friends of mine like Kenshiro and Zeb about the insane amount of fun things you can do with this world and some of them even expressed desire to maybe one day give writing them a shot. So maybe Saint Seiya isn’t Game of Thrones, or even Dragon Ball, but it does sound like it is something. And that if a passionate fan just takes the time, they could make it that something. So why doesn’t it happen? Especially when some people, like me, are obsessed enough to give it a go? Well, frankly, cause it’s a fool’s errand. 4. Saint Seiya Rewrites and “What the Fans Want” Saint Seiya fans don’t want Saint Seiya stories. They want an elevation of Saint Seiya stories into something of mainstream impact. The reasons for this are not monolithical, but it is the main driving force of what I’ve seen constitutes as the motivation of the core of the fanbase. This, the fandom believes, can be done two ways:

a) Finishing and adapting the now, pretty much, mythical “Heaven Chapter” that Masami Kurumada just won’t get into, which will usher Saint Seiya into a new age of Shounen relevance that will put it back in the pantheon of anime along with Dragon Ball and One Punch Man

b) “Fixing” early Saint Seiya, usually through some kind of new manga edition, rewrite of Sanctuary Arc or outright remake of the old anime, preferably cutting out filler

It is no coincidence that half the new stuff coming out the past 15 years for Saint Seiya that has gotten any sort of traction online (and not scoffed at or ignored like Dark Wing and Sho were) were either pseudo-sequels like Omega (see method A) , or movies and tv shows retelling the story of Galaxian Wars and Sanctuary Arc with new computer-assisted animation, 3D and now live action (see method B). There is a firm belief among fans that all that Saint Seiya needs to do is just get through Next Dimension and have Seiya finally climb Mount Olympus, Kratos-Style, and defeat Zeus, so that everything will be right with Saint Seiya and it can reclaim its spot of relevance, where fans can debate online freely in scaling forums and anime Discord Servers why Saint Seiya is *so* important as an influence to popular shows like My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer and Jujutsu Kaizen. I don’t know about you, but this to me just sounds a lot like Abraham Simpson fantasies, the kind where he complains he “used to be with it”, or how his descendants don’t appreciate him or give him the attention he feels entitled to. Its the kind of thinking that has no concern for the characters themselves, the voice of Kurumada or the style of storytelling they oh-so-love-so-much, and more to do with fragile weeb egos desperately trying to prove to teenagers online they shouldn’t laugh at their old show. But regardless of how I feel about it,... it’s the market of Saint Seiya. These attitudes are what define what the fans seek in Saint Seiya and what market researchers will tell their directors and animators to appeal to in future projects. Hence the glut of revisionist shows and remakes of Sanctuary Arc like Legend of Sanctuary, Knights of the Zodiac and now the 2023 LA Saint Seiya movie. So is there really a place for originality in Saint Seiya? No. Sorry. Well, don’t turn away just yet, this post ends with a positive message, just stick with me first through the valley of darkness. @melosfantasos​  is an author currently writing a remake of Saint Seiya. By their own words, “Saints of Athena” is what they wished Knights of the Zodiac by Netflix had been like. It is a fan rewrite of Saint Seiya, just like Bruno Masei’s “Legend of Seiya”. Melos, in some ways, represents this wave of wanting someone to ‘fix’ Saint Seiya, but rather than sitting around waiting for someone in Japan to read their minds and get to it, or stan accounts of fanartist shills on Twitter endlessly posting more and more ‘tributes’ to Shingo Araki, or make posts online about “Why aren’t things better? ＞︿＜Boohoo!” Melos took upon themselves to sit down and effing write. And you know what? Melos is doing a pretty good job. “Saints of Athena” is of relative quality and Melos has written 250,000 words in a year, which is a level of hardwork that should be respected no matter your opinion on the product. People, including me, have praised Melos for harnessing the potential of the characters and setting in a narrative form. And you know what? For a fandom that seems to think that the height of characterisation is Aldebaran in Kotz talking to a couple of Hoplites for five seconds about how tense things are in Sanctuary? Melos’ writing oughta be Shakesperean to them. Applause *clap clap* We got a real fan! This is it, right? This is what SS fans have been looking for. Someone with passion for the ‘narrative’ to take the reins and really use the characters the way everyone wants them to. So how many reviews has Melos gotten? 100 like Bruno? 180 like I have over 10 years? 450 like Jenny has? Maybe a 1000??? ... He’s gotten 7. For a year’s work. 3 of them are from the same people and one of them is from me. And I pretty much tell him in it that I won’t be reading because I am not interested in rewrites, but new stories. Uh.   I’m sorry, what the hell? (￣﹏￣；) 5. Spin-offs, Fanfiction and ‘Originality’ in Saint Seiya It’s no secret around FF.net that Saint Seiya fics have been going through a review drought. I publish in AO3 as well and, frankly, I don’t see that much of a difference. In fact, I get a lot more hits per chapter in FF.net. So, the question is ‘why?’ Around a week ago or so, Melos asked in a Tumblr post (mentioning me in a flattering light, btw, thank you ^_^) how come fans don’t support more original stories. I’ve conversed with the fans in various spaces over a decade and I don’t think there’s one common answer to this question. I’m not the type that thinks my work (or even Melos, no offense, please keep reading) should be given more attention simply because it’s *original*, because let’s face it, nothing is really original. Especially in fanfiction. There’s nothing new under the sun. That’s just a fact. I don’t care how weird or quirky you think you are, you’ve been influenced by something other people are already aware of. I love @jennydevic ‘s Love You, Kill Me, I think it’s one of the most ‘original’ things ever done for Saint Seiya, but guess what? I can also see the influence of South Park and Batman Animated Series in it (especially after she told me she was influenced by these lol). Her Cepheus Albiore and her June are very much Bruce Wayne and Batgirl in their dynamic. The Andromeda Island gang are various Robins, at least as far as their relationship with Albiore goes. And it’s great. So, asking why fans don’t try more ‘original content’ just... doesn’t really mean much to our markets. I can’t blame casual fans for being skeptical to when I say they should read LR because “it’s different” or subversive, especially when a lot of inexperienced writers use this as a shield to their flaws. Besides, being original or subversive is subjective. I’m sure that to a lot of people, especially people of taste, LR is nothing new or ground-breaking. It’s just ambitious, at best, and not necessarily well guided. BUT... I do think there’s a lack of curiosity on the fan’s part hidden behind a veil of feigned-curiosity, and that fans that endlessly bitch about bad spin off and movies, but then would rather buy a ticket to them or spend some extra bucks on Saori’s beach-going attire on Saint Seiya Awakening (a game designed, by the way, to make it very clear to you that the franchise exists to rip you off) than search for things fans are making, are acting fundamentally hypocritical. And I’ve been seeing this happening for well over a decade, so imagine how resigned I must feel with it. “More than Gold” is an incredible story with a premise fans should love. It’s a freaking AU about Aiolos surviving in exchange for Kido leaving behind the Sagittarius Cloth in Greece and it delves into his emotions and survival guilt and having to live in a wheelchair and rebuild his life and relationships and fighting! If you’re a Saint Seiya fan of any kind, you should stop what you’re doing and go read it right the fuck now. What are you waiting for?! To get off work?!  Quit your stupid job! All you’re gonna do with that money is spend it on Awakening anyway ￣へ￣ So go read it! More than Gold Is also about Jenny gradually discovering her love for Yaoi writing, but let’s leave that aside. There’s enough homophobes in anime fandoms. But if “More than Gold” is so goddamn perfect, as I say, how come it’s not being read? Quoted even? Because ‘something original’ isn’t what fans want. Despite what they might say. I don’t know about you, but there’s just an ugliness in the soul to going on Reddit and Twitter all the time and complain Toei doesn’t give you what you want, and then refuse to lift a finger to seek out works like Melos’ “Saints of Athena” or Jenny’s “More than Gold”, which give you everything you SAY you want, and very passionately so, but off the hand of someone that doesn’t have paid composers, animators and marketeers to legitimise it. It screams ‘envy’, not adoration, because it proves all you really want is for Saint Seiya to be what it’s not; a Dragon Ball show, but you don’t want it to work anything about itself to achieve that. In fact, many of these people don’t even try spin offs that are too different. I will never forget whiny comments made on Saintia Sho online publications that “I’m not gonna read this, because it’s Saint Seiya without Seiya. How does that even work? （︶^︶）” which is especially shocking because Chimaki is easily the most passionate spin off author of them all, in my opinion. She’s also the only spin-off author who writes Deathmask correctly, yet got the most horrible adaptation ever done for an SS manga and has been treated with dismissiveness by the fans since. What they want is something old with a fresh paint, so it won’t look so old. They want the LA movie filled with Marvelisms or a remake of the anime in the style of Hunter x Hunter’s, so they can ‘enjoy’ their cartoon without the shame of being confronted with its obsoleteness. Something ‘ truly new’ is the last thing many Saint Seiya fans want, because it doesn’t respect their nerd religion. And I don’t think people like me, or Melos, or Jenny or anyone else who want to write new things in Saint Seiya should be hanging on the hopes that these people will one day recognise them, or recognise some other fan’s work when they themselves are just sitting around waiting for a new cartoon to drop. But what choice do we have? To go ask Naruto fans to read them? And this, of course, hurts creative writing people who are passionate about what they do, because it puts them in an ever shrinking box of rejection and apathy. Jenny has made clear in her “More than Gold” chapters, even though the fic had a premise any fan of SS would love, that part of the reason she winded down production was because the lack of reader feedback was driving down enthusiasm. In her final words to the last chapter of More than Gold, Jenny says “Part of the joy of writing fanfiction is for an audience, but if there is no audience, there isn’t any point.” How heartbreaking is that? －_－Don’t worry too much about Jenny, though, she is perfectly fine. The author of Love You, Kill Me, the best Saint Seiya fanfic ever made, has moved on to greener pastures and is having fun again, bless her heart. The heartbreaking part is that we, Saint Seiya fans, have allowed this to happen. So what does this mean about me? And my obsession with Saint Seiya? Or with fans that aren’t interested in reading what I write? If there is no place for originality in Saint Seiya, why do I even bother? Pah, cause it shouldn’t matter. ＼（〇_ｏ）／ Duh! 5. Spite, Anxiety, Passion and Obsession - Why, after ten years, do I still write for a junk show I don’t like with an audience that isn’t there? It would be easy for me, after everything that I’ve written so far, to say that Lance’s Role is an engine that moves on sheer spite. I’m sure part of the truth lies in this, but that’s just too self-flattering. It paints what I do as some kind of protest against fans I don’t personally like, that I take joy in not being read by them. That I am, in a way, superior to them. That would be the Spite. But the reality is, no. I’m no better than any of them. I make plenty of mistakes in my writing and my beta-readers aren’t afraid of whacking me with their newspaper roll over them. Some of the most exciting moments I’ve had writing this fic is getting the Betas back from Jenny or my friend Elly and they let me know they like what I’m doing with characters like Lance, or Olivia, or Dohko. I am overjoyed when Jenny says she really cheered for Lance in this last chapter I wrote, or when Zeb listens to my character rambling, or when Elly tells me “hey, this is actually pretty funny”. It’s a very “please praise me some more \(￣︶￣*\)) “ kind of moment that any creative person can relate to. I still very much care what people have to say about what I write. I’ve recently joined a real writer’s server (as in, you know, people who PUBLISH) and I’ve had moments of incredible self-consciousness about everything I do, from my excessive use of ellipsis to the many references to mixed mythology that Saint Seiya forces me to employ.  I’ve been embarassed to show them what I write, but it’s also been a very interesting experience because, for the first time, I’m around a group of people that admire writing in and of itself, and not just what panders to them. This means that, paradoxically, I am aware of my flaws, terrified of them and I crave the feeling of knowing I have defeated them. For now. I think that would be the Anxiety. I think that, in a lot of ways, people write these big fanfiction projects as an exercise of fan energy. We have these crazy thoughts in our head influenced by colors and music and animated movements and, like a composer, we want to put them into paper, even if it’s really bad and you can’t really put music, colors and motions into words so well. But we also want to celebrate with others that we can find that kind of joy in what we do. I can’t speak for other writers like Melos or Jenny, but to me LR has also been a vehicle to work out some very toxic emotions in myself. The 2010s were a very difficult period for me in a lot of ways and part of the reason why I’m still alive, not just in a physical way, is because of this fic. I’m a better person for having adopted this habit and I want to know that after I’ve gone through the valley of depression and self-doubt, I have something fun and engaging to give back. Something that excites others. That in turn, would be the Passion. What is the obsession, then? Why am I obsessed with Saint Seiya? ...Well,  I’m not. I told you from the beginning of this post; I hate this franchise. It’s fucking lame and has no soul anymore. It’s largely just a vehicle, a setting for the story I want to tell. You could say I am appropriating Saint Seiya for my story the same way Kurumada appropriated Greek myths when he can’t even point on the map where the fuck in Greece Sanctuary is supposed to be at. He doesn’t even like his own show that much and his understanding of what Cosmos is changes every 2 years or so. The proof of it  is that I don’t even know what to talk about in it anymore, and I’m one of the goddamn admins at the R/SS Discord server. Everytime I want to talk about Saint Seiya, I find myself steering instead towards the things *around* it, and noticing how similar they are to other cultures I have gripes with in real life, like culture wars, politics or just the conflict of attitudes between non-prospective people and prospective people. Even in LR, the things I write with are largely manufactured concepts of my own creation within Saint Seiya. Shamballa is not a real Saint Seiya place. The map of Death Queen Island I have made is 50% headcanon. Neither are real to Saint Seiya half the things that Dohko shows Lance in Rozan, or the Princes of Hades, or the False Holy War, or even Lance himself! So maybe the Obsession... is just writing! Fuck! Ugh, I’ve inherited all of my dad’s manias, and directed them at a cartoon! (=~= God help me! So that’s the lesson, kids. Write for the sake of writing. And if you get ignored, write some more, because if you really got the itch, that’s the only thing that will scratch it.

[faithintaiwan]

august 6th - i hate nuts. fanny hates trees.

This morning we had a free half day!! We were supposed to go to a k-pop store with Jasmine but I simply was unable to wake up and ended up missing it. It’s ok though because Andy, Fanny, and I went to this adorable breakfast cafe that served açaí bowls, smoothies, oatmeal, and more and even had an adorable little cat named Dasha. He was so sweet to me when I pet him but absolutely scratched and bit Andy’s hand to shreds. Tp be fair, he did keep his hand there as Dasha tried to consume it so I think it’s Andy’s fault.

Once again, we boarded the party bus and set off! As we sat on the bus I ate my oatmeal and suddenly noticed something green. A nut. In the past six months I have reacted more to nuts than I have in like the past 19 years of my life. I think it’s been getting worse because of this. Jasmine kindly gave me a benadryl (TYSM) and I had to suffer through nausea, a slightly swollen throat, and general sickness. The nausea is a new development for me and my favorite party bus was not helping. We finally arrived at our destination and I felt like I was about to throw up only to be told that we were getting on a boat. I tried to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t go in because the smell was making me violently gag on my queasy stomach.

Luckily as we put on life jackets and these adorable hats I was able to slightly recover from the bus. I was also extremely grateful that the boat was very smooth and I ended up feeling better than on the bus! As we were riding through the mangroves, however, there were many low branches and Fanny was feeling sick. I didn’t realize she had closed her eyes and with Andy in front of me I couldn’t see the branches ahead. I suddenly noticed a branch going for my face and dodged last second. The next second, I turned to look at Fanny and she was gone. The branch had absolutely rocked her and she had been thrown off her stool and onto the ground. She’s ok now but in the moment that was her final straw and another tragedy added to our day. She told me after that her dad also had a tree branch fall on him and I think it’s a hereditary thing LMAO. Her ancestor must’ve offended some great tree spirit in the past and now each generation in her lineage gets smacked down by a tree.

Continuing our theme of trees we then went to the Anding treehouse. Our order at the cafe took so long (20 minutes for something that just had to be heated up) that we had to take it cold. I was so upset. Then our third destination was the Confucius temple. It was pretty but it was raining a lot… Our excursions ended on such a high note though with the Hayashi department store!! I had wanted to go this morning but slept through everything so I was super happy it was on our itinerary! It surpassed all my expectations. There was a tori gate on the roof, the city’s first elevator, and so much shopping. The very first thing I saw was a Miffy tumbler. Miffy. I cannot explain how much I love Miffy. I am ashamed to admit how much I spent on it, but it is quite possibly the best purchase I have made on this trip. I love it so much!!! Each floor had so much cute stuff so I bought some more gifts for friends and a bracelet that I absolutely adore.

We ended the night by trying to go to another very studious study group but the place was full so we ended up just going back to the hotel. It was disappointing but nothing can dampen the happiness of owning a Miffy tumbler.

Academic Reflection

Starting off with my favorite activity of the day the Hayashi Department Store!! From my research, it was built in 1932 under Japanese colonialism which is why it has Japanese architectural features and a tori gate on the roof. The original owner returned to Japan after the colonial period, leaving the building uninhabited, however, in 2014 it was refurbished and opened to the public again! It now sells tons of artisan crafts such as the bracelet I got as well as souvenirs and more!

Going back earlier in the day, the Anping Tree House was also built during the Japanese Colonial Period but during the beginning of it. It was originally a warehouse for Tait&Co. according to Tainan Travel, Anping Tree House. The company participated in international trade after Taiwan opened its trade and they exported sugar and camphor that had been stored here. After the Japanese left, it was used as an “office for the Tainan Salt Works” according to Anping Tree House by Wikipedia. It is referred to as a treehouse because of the many large trees that go through and surround the building. It was really fun getting to climb the stairs up to a metal cage during a thunderstorm and look out over the whole warehouse!!

[rhazimpulsivelyposts]

I use my Snapchat as “dear diary” and I use this tumblr as : impulsive music and memory sharing, and impulsive dirty thoughts that I don’t want to subject the 7 people who actually sit through my Snapchat stories too. Different audience 🤣 honestly I’m surprised people watch my snap stories because they are always hours long of me ranting about stuff with maybe a few good moments mixed in. I made this tumbler so I can word vomit all my dirty sexual thoughts and music spamming into.

I stopped adding people on Snapchat in 2021 after a coworker female tried to get me fired over something I said on there. I get that it isn’t actually gone after 24 hours and that they probably have servers where they keep everyone’s stuff and that some rando creepo can probably sift through them and watch them, I understand the risks , I just don’t care ok. I spill TEA on my Snapchat. I’ve started being better at using fake names and nicknames and different words for things now that I got my new job because I really like this job and I don’t want to jeopardize that with my poor coping mechanisms.

My ♐️ was grandfathered in to my Snapchat. But because it’s my diary like bro sorry some shit is going to be about you. I can’t not use my diary just because you have keys and that you can use to pop in on any given day and watch my hours long story times and rants. He didn’t watch my story for months , even after I moved out he barely watched it, but of course the rant/story time where I talk about wanting to spend the night with ♑️ instead is the one he watched 😑.

I feel guilty enough. I feel like I’m committing betrayal or infidelity when I’m not. I specifically left the relationship so that if I find physical pleasure in someone else it isn’t betrayal just sad. And sad it is. My ♐️ replied to that story and I couldn’t bring myself to open it. The night he asked me who “Capricorn Puppy” is I sat on my bathroom floor and cried because I had to come to terms with losing my best friend all over again even though I would of lost him months ago realistically and I should of already processed these emotions. I didn’t open the Snapchat because I didn’t want to FEEL the negative emotions that what ever he said , good or bad honestly, would cause me knowing that’s the story he decided to watch.

My ♌️ wants mushies, and I am pretty sure ♐️ is the only one that can get them. ♑️ says he might be able to but I don’t want to lean on that possible connection at all this soon into talking to him. I told her I didn’t want to open it because no matter what he said it would make me sad and guilty and it would ruin my work day and my mental state and she told me basically to stop feeling guilty because the relationship ended months ago and he wasn’t serving me the way I had asked him to for years. “Don’t give your energy to feeling negative about the situation, you are getting what you deserved and wanted now and how he feels about it isn’t your responsibility”

So I opened the Snapchat and he had deleted what ever he said. Honestly I’m glad I didn’t see it. It’s either him calling me a bitch or it’s him pleading that he tried and either of those I can’t handle right now. My estrogen is dropping because my period is this weekend and my adhd medication doesn’t work as well when my estrogen levels are lower. Not only that, I just can’t handle the negative emotions right now I just can’t. I want to escape into my weekends on my couch naked with ♑️ wrapping his body around me. It’s like a fever dream. Like a drug I want to let myself slip under in. I’ve been touch starved for so long. Druggy ♊️ and I used to do this, lay in the most uncomfortable looking positions on couches and beds just wrapped around each other, legs interlocked, sweat pooling in the divots of our bodies. 😭 this! THIS! Is what I have been craving for YEARS! THIS! Is why I kept saying “I should just date women because a woman would cuddle me like this” it’s so intoxicating. He doesn’t get “too hot” or “uncomfortable”, he looks down at me and smiles. Intoxicating. Even when this ends it will be worth how high it makes me.

I told my ♐️ why I didn’t open the snap, because I was afraid of feeling what ever it was he said, and that I was annoyed that was the story he decided to actually watch. And I asked him if had an update for ♌️ on the mushies. I really doubt he is going to get her those now. He already didn’t want to do it, now I’m sure he is sitting there like “fck both of you guys” . I don’t blame him, and I don’t blame him for hating me or being upset with me or feeling negative towards me. I’m selfish and hedonistic, and I can say I love him and he won’t believe me because of my words and actions, but the thought of him and our relationship will stick with me forever. And hopefully stop me from repeating the cycle with him or anyone else. I don’t need to be tied to anyone, because I will personally cut the cord when ever shit gets rough.

I told ♑️ from the start that I’m using him. I enjoy him a lot actually. But I needed to set the expectation that I’m not a forever partner, I’m a runner and I will run. I’ll run if he starts getting too chubbie and I told him that. I’ll run if emotions start getting to the point where we make each other upset for any reason, be it annoyance or feelings hurt over actions or things said.

I will never be a girlfriend again. Fingers crossed anyways. No one else should sign that soul contract with me. They never leave me happy, they always keep tabs on me.