#not one that consistently goes to shit every few weeks/months

[strangedisciple]

i think my sleep schedule is slowly fixing itself

[fryingpan1234567]

some CHB headcanons

every cabin has LEDs around the inside, but there’s a constant battle over what color they are

Percy has his rippling back and forth from teal to blue and it looks like light dancing through water all over his walls and floor

the Apollo cabin can usually settle for orange and yellow as a common ground

the Aphrodite kids have a different color for each time of day and sleep with pink on the lowest brightness setting

the Hermes cabin has like ten different strips and they’re all constantly shifting

Demeter cabin’s shifts with the seasons

ANYWAYS MOVING AWAY FROM THE LEDS

they have movie nights, which I will talk about in a different post

before everybody goes back to school, the Aphrodite and Hecate cabins have a massive salon at the end of the summer with new haircuts and magic hair dye and outfit recommendations and fake but enchanted sturdy nails and a whole bunch of other stuff and basically it’s a week straight of spilling hot tea between everyone in camp

if someone asks where a camper got their hair done when they get back to school they just go “oh, um… summer camp.” and their friends will snort and be like bro isn’t summer camp the opposite of a makeover?? but they get no argument, just a shrug and a half smile

when I tell you pride month over there is a fucking riot

because Mr. D is in on it, right?? because he’s the god of gender?? and Chiron is aroace and has been raising dumbass gay heroes for literal centuries?? PLUS the sheer fucking amount of queer peeps up in there?? dude yeah

cabins competing for who shows the most pride

Demeter’s roof is covered in rainbow flowers

Hecate’s is enchanted to emit actual light in whatever flag colors of whoever uses the front door, even when they’re straight (it’s just a rainbow)

Percy collects a bunch of shed scales from the hippocampi at the bottom of the lake and then puts them all over his cabin

I could make a whole post about CHB pride but

every single Apollo kid is also a theater kid fight me

Rachel Elizabeth Dare painted a skateboard for Percy’s birthday and he brings it everywhere now, it even sits in his backpack at school

Leo, Annabeth, Percy, and Piper fucking love horror movies. Frank, Hazel, and Jason fucking hate them. They watch through their fingers, if at all

Piper loves the band Surfaces with all her heart, but she also is a die hard Green Day and P!ATD fan

Jake Mason is covered in burn scars up to his neck, just like Deadpool, just not bald lol

Hephaestus and Apollo kids faintly radiate warmth (like more so than a normal person)

the Stolls sometimes stay at camp year-round because their mom is off on international missions that are too high-risk for them to help with

the seven are AVID Smash Bros players

really everyone but

not as many people go to the Athena campers for help with homework as you might think, but whenever anyone does, they’re happy to help

the sun chariot blasts music at a frequency only the Apollo kids can hear, so their life kind of has a shitty soundtrack that consists of a mix of Broadway, Queen, modern stuff, and random bits of Beethoven every now and then

the Romans swear on few occasions

the Greeks know when to swear and when to be polite

the Valhalla peeps swear unbridled and all the time

the Egyptians never swear (in English)

for the longest time, Will Solace thinks the only gift from his dad is his healing prowess— which is obviously great, but he expresses being upset over the fact that he’s not very good at archery

well, considering this is the dumbass who didn’t bring a weapon to actual fucking Tartarus, Nico drags him to the weapon shack thing immediately afterwards and made him pick something out

he's immediately drawn to the Celestial Bronze shotgun.

Nico’s just like “what in the redneck shit did you just pick up” and Will jokingly aims it at his chest and grins and says “you know I’m from Texas, right?”

that’s how they find out Will is one of the damn best marksmen in Greek demigod history

some of the Disney nerds in the Apollo cabin sing What Once Was Mine to the little ones who need bandaids for knee scrapes and give them lollipops afterwards

Percy Jackson absolutely used to make poverty and struggle meal jokes all the time, but he got weird and concerned looks for it at CHB, so he kind of just stopped. But one day, aboard the Argo II, the PERFECT opportunity came up and he just HAD TO and as per usual— everyone else looked at him like he’s crazy— but Leo laughed so hard chocolate milk came out of his nose and that’s the story of how the two of them became Best Friends

[wimble-warcrime]

been watching wayy too many bushcraft stuff and wilderness survival competition tv shows, so im inspired first COD fic, but i've read too many not to contribute at this point

-bushcrafter!simon riley who is not normal about anything, lets be real here. he spends 6 months deployed in bumfuck-nowhere roughing it with the boys, only to return his own little piece of land in the middle of civilized bumfuck-nowhere. he bought the property after a night of too many drinks and decided in his drunken stupor that he had no need for people or pagentry. and he was right

-he sells most of his earthly possesions, putting whatever he can't (or won't) sell into a storage container he hauls up to the property. at first, with his military training and field experience, he gets by on the bare bones while he figures his shit out. this isn't some survival expedition with a clear goal--he's going full wildman, living in the woods like this. the only address he has is a p.o. box at the closest town's post office. it's a bit of a pain getting down there, so he goes only when he's visiting the local hardware stores--he becomes a familiar (albeit masked) face with the locals

-his set up is pretty swanky after a good few months in the wilds on leave. he may or may not have (but he'll never admit to it) scrolled on pinterest for a wee while looking at what the bushcraft and survivalist lads were building for some inspiration, but at the ends, he's mighty proud of his little cabin in the woods. each time he comes back from deployment, he adds more to it, eventually expanding it to have a sort of functioning toilet and shower, a little woodstove and a relatively comfortable bed.

-one day after a particularly grueling mission, he decides to see just how far he can take it. he's been hunting for his game and gets a box of the community garden vegetables delivered to his driveway every week, but he wants more of a challenge. so he starts gardening. ever one for a flare of drama, simon starts using the bones of his kills to turn into some half-decent knives and other tools. and as much fun as it is, doing his dooms-day prepping shit (as price has lovingly called it) he won't admit he's lonely

-gets a rescue dog called lucky--lucky only has three legs and one working ear, but the mutt is so darn cute he has to bring the poor beastie home.

-the pretty bird who volunteers at the animal shelter is also cute, and lucky has grown on you. you're weary to part ways with the dog, but the masked man and his terrible flirting are endearing enough to smooth over the comfort. after he leaves, you're naturally curious about just who that man was. you hear around the town that he's a recluse who lives in the mountains like a caveman (he for sure could pull off a loin cloth with those hips of his) and that he gets the local garden delivery box every week

-so you do as any rational human would with that information and sign up to volunteer with the garden center. they let you deliver boxes after a few weeks of consistent effort, and when you're manager hands you the list of addresses, she makes it very clear that on box in particular is to be left at the drive way and that's it. he doesn't like people nosing around

-you save his delivery for last, driving up the 'drive way' to the edge of the woods and no further. like the foolish girl you are, you get out of the car and start hiking into the woods to deliver this man his vegetables. halfway, you find lucky running about, the mutt so excited to see his favourite human he almost vibrates right out of his skin he happily leads you to his new home, where the man you hoped to find is chopping wood out front. shirtless.

-you're content to salivate over this mans physique but lucky is determined to share his excitement with his second favourite human and announces your presence by barking.

-simon is silently thrilled you're here. ever since he met you when he adopted lucky all those weeks ago, he's been working up the courage to go back and befriend you. only problem is, simon is not normal about anything, so he instead starts fancying up his house in the hopes that you might see it one day. he told himself it was a delusion to think you'd just appear without any effort on his part. but luckily for him, you're not normal about anything either.

-you get the grand tour of the place, making a few remarks on the garden out front and the adorable little wood stove in his house ("My grandma had one of these in her house, she used to cook with me on it all the time. my apartment isn't exactly equipped for one, but i've always wanted one anyways"). when you see his bed, you can't help but sit down on it, needing to know if it's a comfy and sturdy as it looks (def not imaging why it would need to be sturdy--you're a big girly, furniture needs to handle all that extra fluff if you're using it) it is exactly as comfy as you thought it would be, lying back against the hand-me-down quilt and closing your eyes

-you make a comment about how many animal pelt are in the bed, praising simon's expert preservation of the furs and off-handedly remarking how you always wanted to learn how to hunt. when you look up at him from his bed, raking your eyes over his giant frame standing there with barely contained lust? well, let's just say he's ruminating on how big the newest addition has to be for a nursery

----

this is just a drabble, but my panties get wet at the idea of a wild, forest-dwelling man sweeping me off my feet and away from civilization to go live with him in his little hut in the woods. im the type of delulu that would HAPPILY be a bare foot and pregnant wifey living with my half feral man who worships me daily and lives to please me

did i maybe ready waayyy too man werewolf romance stories as a tween? why yes, yes i did. it altered my brain chemistry in a way you guys just wouldn't understand, but i cannot be normal about relationships anymore and it's a problem

ANYWAYZZZ hope you enjoyed, cause i know i did ;)

[stilessflannel]

hey !!

im not sure if reqs are open or not i just wanted to atleast try..!!

may i req an percy x fem!reader thats similar to ame in NSO

(general headcannons pls!!)

like shes a streamer that also REEKS of bpd/j (i have bpd dw)

but also into the style cutecore instead of jirai-kei..?

but in general she's slightly unstable yet a SUPER popular streamer?

thx thx thxxxxx!!!! >w<

unfortunately i don't know ame-chan at all so i'm so sorry if this req isn't brought to justice 😭 🙏 stay strong with your bpd lovely >w<

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ PERCY JACKSON X GAMER!READER HCS

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 HOW IT STARTED

➴ percy had stumbled across your livestreams while he was in manhattan, camp half-blood being a few months away from starting for the summer

➴ he recognised your face from around camp - he was about to click off your stream as you normally kept to yourself at camp and he thought you were another struggling streamer

➴ but seeing your view count rise up by the thousands every minute intrigued him. your stream consisted of you lounging in your gaming chair, quickly switching between chatting about whatever was on your mind or picking fights with trolls in your comments that you destroyed with quick, witty remarks.

➴ if there was one word to describe percy jackson, it would be: sassy

➴ so seeing that you also didn't give a shit

➴ nice

➴ naturally he gave you a follow and continued watching all your streams

➴ so when he saw you at camp the next summer he immediately came up to you and started chatting about your livestreams and the topics you seemed to love discussing with your vast audience

➴ seeing your face light up when he mentioned he was a big fan of yours made his cheeks burn red (whos wouldn't if someone like you smiled at them, bffr)

➴ and the rest, as they say, is history

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 HOW IT"S GOING

➴ beach picnic dates >> percy loves being in the presence of the two things he loves the most in this world - the ocean and you.

➴ you stream some of the dates he takes you on around manhattan and all of your followers love you two so much!! whenever a troll comes in the chat you and percy ridicule them so much they leave

➴ at camp pulling off intricate pranks on Mr. D to the delight of your fellow campers (and chiron)

➴ you sitting at the poseidon table during meals to keep percy company because who wants their boyfriend to sit alone :(

➴ you sat with your siblings once after he threw your favourite meal across the dining pavilion at the ares table and he was depressed for a whole week

➴ sneaking off into the forest and making out behind trees while the campers are at the campfire >>>>>>

➴ lots of training together one on one, the challenge he's set you is every time you beat him in a sword fight he'll give you a kiss (he goes easy on you just to have an excuse to make out)

➴ through your highs and lows of raging emotions, percy's always there for you - always there to make you laugh, always ready with a comeback to your quips, always ready to wrap you in a big bear hug and never let you go. he loves every part of you because you're perfect the way you are <3

taglist: @izzieluvsdelusion @azure-drag0ness @vivi-anasan @percyssunlithope @amandareids @raysmayhem-72 // join the taglist here

[lolokouhm]

Imagine Megumi being a kitsune and he finds love with a shrine maiden! Reader who previously took care of him when he was in fox form? Feel free to make this fluffy or smut, idk.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, whose heart and soul break into a million pieces after the tragic death of his beloved goddess.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who leaves the shrine and wanders for 300 years in his fox form, killing, destroying and toying with human lives, trying to forget about his own, burning pain - without any success. he cannot comprehend it - why would she give her life for these worthless creatures? his rampage goes on, and as his soul gets ripped to shreds with every kill, he's finally left with nothing, but an overwhelming emptiness and complete disregard for every life, including his own.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who gets outsmarted for the first time in his lifetime by no other, than a mere human. it's a stupid trap - a trick he shouldn't have fallen for. maybe he's just tired. maybe he just doesn't care anymore. maybe he wants to die.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who didn't expect that the one who would bring the death to him would have such delicate hands. even though he is barely conscious when your fingers graze over his bristling fur, Megumi is still able to hear your rapid heartbeat and feel your warmth when you scoop his limp body into your arms and press it tightly to your chest - if he had just a little more strength, he'd gladly open his eyes to see what kind of creature is that soft, but his eyelids are simply too heavy.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who is more than surprised when he wakes up in the morning and finds out that, apparently, he's not dead yet. what's even more surprising - he's not alone. and when you open your mouth and say how relieved you are that he woke up, he finally gets it. he almost laughs at how perverse fate can be, looking at your pure smile and traditional outfit. you are a shrine maiden, and, judging by the looks of the room he's in, he's at a shrine. again.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi who is still recovering, but the wounds don't heal well at all, despite your best efforts. you don't give up though - you feed him (even though he doesn't really eat at first), apply the ointment to his wounds and talk to him, even when he pretends he's asleep. at first, he finds it incredibly irritating, but as you babble and ramble about the life in the shrine for days, even weeks, Megumi starts to grow fond of your stories.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who's gone when you enter the room after a few weeks. right before you start to panic, a ridiculously handsome, dark-haired young man enters the room, dressed in neat, traditional robes and just one look into his eyes is enough to know who he is. you stare at Megumi, standing right in front of you, in his human form, arms crossed, as a soft, quiet "thank you" leaves his lips, and your cheeks burn brighter than ever when his cold, immense gaze falls on your face.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who finally talks to you, and even though your conversations still mostly consist of you saying some shit and him listening to it, they feel... good. there's a warmth to you he felt when you held him for the first time and Megumi still feels it - and finds it incredibly captivating.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who finds himself making a contract with the deity of the shrine, just to be able to stay close to you. it seems like the warmth is contagious, because as the time goes, he starts to feel it not only when you're by his side, but also when he simply thinks of you - and that's a very dangerous territory. a territory that comes with overwhelming guilt for his past actions.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who gets more curious about you in the next months, spends more time with you and wants to get closer to you - to the point it physically hurts. he knows your touch - you've touched him countless times, but for some reason, he longs for it in this form, in the human one. he'd sometimes walk past you in the gardens and play with a strand of your hair, just to get this little, cute giggle out of you - a sound so heavenly, it drives him insane. but that's all he can do. he simply cannot let himself stain you - after all, you're pure. so pure, and he's just filthy. the feeling grows and grows - until he cannot stand it anymore.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who just confesses to you. right in the middle of the night, under the moonlight, sitting on a wooden bench. With shaking hands and trembling voice, Megumi tells you all about the past, his past, and he cannot even look at you - he just doesn't want to see the disgust and the hatred in your eyes. no, he cannot see that - that would be too much to bear, a price he's not prepared to pay, at least not now. before he knows it, he cannot see anything at all, as the guilt and the pain he couldn't get rid of crawls out of him - and he cries. the tears fall down his beautiful face, more and more of them, and even though the feeling is weirdly relieving itself, the true purification comes in form of your warm hands on his cheeks.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who spends the night in your arms, confessing not only his crimes, but also his feelings - and just before the exhaustion worth of 300 years of pain gets the best of him, he can feel your lips on his forehead, as light as a feather and hotter than fire. you don't hate him. you couldn't hate him. and by the time he falls asleep, you make sure he knows that.

thinking about the shrine's deity, who's more than content to see the reincarnation of her best friend find her way back to the one she loved. and even though love is the most twisted curse of all, it still is an incredibly beautiful one, isn't it?

[bookwyrminspiration]

quil is everything alright with that book

I'm kind of worried??

Tiernan de Haas's famous producer/movie star parents committed double suicide a few weeks before her 18th birthday (her dad was dying of cancer, but they didn't tell her, because they ignored her her whole life--this lack of attention/love is key to her later actions). Her guardianship was, for some reason, left to his estranged step brother he hasn't spoken to in decades, who lives in a mountain cabin with his two sons

Tiernan, for some reason (reckless anger?), is like yeah I'll move in with you guys, who I've never met before (he offered for her to emancipate herself but she said no...?). These guys consist of her step uncle Jake, and her step cousins Noah and Kaleb, who are both a few years older than her. Jake is an alpha ass, Noah hates his life and dad but can't leave (unclear why), and Kaleb hasn't spoken a word since he was four and is implied to like hurting women in bed.

Despite this, Tiernan decides to stick around, and by day two her Uncle is saying shit like "You're ours" and "this is your home", and Noah is like "let me perfectly explain your childhood trauma to you in the middle of this cvs." We don't see Kaleb until night 2 or 3, since he's been off in the woods, but the moment he walks in the door at like 1 am (covered in blood holding a dead deer) (Tiernan was getting some laundry) he immediately is like oh. A Woman To Have Sex With. and nearly rapes her until Noah pulls him off and goes hey...that's our step cousin.

The reason he was so immediately on top of her is because apparently??? there's just a constant stream of women in the house?? like Noah legit just wakes up with women in his bed waking him up to have sex. and so any woman in the house must be there for sexual purposes and is fair game

Anyway. Tiernan doesn't mention this, but gets into some spats with her relatives. Consisting of them making very deep, personal claims about her despite it having been, once again, like 3 days. Her Uncle is like "You never smile! you only speak in one word sentences! you never ask us questions!" As if she isn't among strangers and her parents died mere DAYS ago. yet, for some reason, she's like, damn...he's right. her uncle is also constantly like do NOT date the boys in town, do NOT go down to the pond alone, etc. etc.

Step Uncle Jake then starts unloading trauma while fishing about how he hasn't been near a woman in decades, since Tiernan's parents drove his first love to suicide (that why they haven't spoken in forever) and the mother of his sons is in jail. This turns Tiernan on. Later when Tiernan can't sleep, they nearly fuck in the kitchen, but stop and Tiernan finally cries over her parents death and how they didn't even leave her a note. Uncle Jake is like we're your family now and this is your home (it hasn't even been a week).

There's a time skip of a few weeks, where they're preparing for winter--because, I forgot to mention, they live alone at the top of a mountain and are snowed in for six months every year. Tiernan turns 18 (kaleb gifts her a hand carved belt that noah says is for bondage purposes), her cousins get into a fight in a bar over her, and they run away from the police to the house. The cousins stay up in case any of the people they fought try and get to the house through the snow, but they end up putting porn on the TV and having a communal masturbation session, nearly ending in Noah and Kaleb fucking Tiernan. Instead, Uncle Jake interrupts, and he spanks her.

And that's as far as I've gotten so far. So I'm reading a slow-burn (ish) romance of Tiernan falling for her step uncles and cousins. And they've just gotten snowed in for the next 6 months. So they're alone. and tiernan's now legally an adult. and no one here is well adjusted

send me your strength soldiers I think it's about to get even rougher

(I went into this book knowing exactly what it would be)

[golden-wire-caress]

(ok so to my knowledge this hyperspecific scenario hasn't been done before?? but if it turns out me from two years ago had an accidental subconscious theft moment, please let me know!! But here goes:)

So we all know the trope/idea of multiple whumpees captive under one whumper? Well here's an extension of that: two whumpees with at least some level of acquaintance with each other, both taken into long-term captivity around the same time, in the same cell. Maybe they have a limited range of movement from chains, or maybe they have free roam of the cell, but every 2-3 days the same outcome proceeds regardless: whumper hauls one of them out, tortures them for variable amounts of time, then returns them to the same cell.

Here's how it gets juicier: the whumper only ever picks one of them. Through the weeks (maybe even a month or two) that they've endured thus far, the whumper is consistent in only this regard and the ever-worsening intensity of these torture sessions. I love thinking about how this would affect the emotional dynamic between these two characters, there's so much shit there that can happen depending on their personalities!!! Perhaps the one being picked (A) grows to resent the other (B) while the other feels a burning guilt every time their fellow captive is tossed back into the cell. Maybe they grow to care for each other!! I'm very partial to that last point, but getting back on track:

This all horrifically culminates in a final session where whumpee A is brutally, permanently mutilated in some much larger/worse way. I'm thinking dismemberment of some kind, but feel free to take your pick otherwise!! After whumper patches them up, because of course they can't have their captive actually dying on them, they're thrown back into the cell. Whumpee B, who knows nothing of this other than 'this session is taking a disturbingly long time, what do you mean they'll be just a bit longer what did you do' is fucking terrified with whumper's work, and serves as whumpee A's caretaker over the next few days.

Then, four days after whumpee A is returned to their cell, whumper asks for whumpee B. With this cycle established, everything gets so. Much. Worse.

So yeah! Those are the thoughts for tonight. Or like, thoughts from several years ago that I still enjoy today, but regardless thank you for reading!!

[yearofradicalselfbelief]

Part Four [Progess & Foundation Laying] - 16/12/23

Hello! I actually have a non-depressing update to write today, what a time to be alive. Discussions of 2024 goals, and changes to my writing schedule ahead.

I’ve spent the last week or so basically already making a start on my goals for 2024, so that once January hits, all I need to actually do is maintain the momentum instead of spending the first few weeks undoing whatever bad habits I could let myself slip into just because it’s the holiday season.

My big goals for 2024 are nothing new. I go into every year wanting to read more, write more, and exercise more. The thing is, there was a time when I’d have these goals and each one truly would be starting from scratch. Before I started writing daily as a rule, weeks would go by where I didn’t write a single word, then I’d feel bad about not writing, which would make me want to write even less, and create that great little feedback loop from hell. I also went through a ridiculous reading dry spell during/following my uni years, because nothing makes you want to read less than doing an English Lit degree, and honestly I’d never been big into fitness beyond a few weeks-long health kicks up until I hit my 20s, either.

So when I’d first have these goals, none of the foundation would be there, and I was basically expecting my habits to go from 0 to 100 the second the clock struck midnight for the New Year. Recently, I’ve been doing things smarter.

Starting my daily writing streak on 1st January 2020 was a great starting point, because I haven’t missed a day since, and I’ll be hitting my 1500th consecutive day of writing sometime in the first quarter of next year. The year that followed that, 2021, I started to take my fitness way more seriously. I worked out on and off before that, but 2021 was the year where I did my first ever 75Hard challenge – successfully – in the summer, then another the following autumn, and I’ve done several since.

2022, as I’ve said, was a bit of a write-off because of everything I went through, but 2023 has been the year of upping the reading habit. Last year I read 14 books, this year I read 41 – with ~5 more being in progress, but I probably won’t finish those til New Year. My goal for next year is 50.

The thing is though, juggling these habits means that it’s been pretty common so far for one thing to fall by the wayside while I focus on the other two. When I did flufftober this year, I didn’t have the time to do a single workout the whole month. Or when I do a workout challenge, my writing output halves because it gets to the evening time and it’s just a struggle to stay conscious during the evening hours where I’d ordinarily get my best words in.

So my overarching goal for 2024 is to have a year where I just absolutely ace all three of those habits. I want to read lots, write lots, and get a great level of consistency with my workouts. I do have more minor goals that fall within all of that too, like finding a way of using social media that isn’t all or nothing. This year, my screen time has either been insanely high, or I’ve been on Instagram breaks for months at a time. Then I hang around until I can see it’s wearing on my mentally, and disappear again for a long stretch. I really want to find a middle ground with that – one that doesn’t have me being so terminally online that I feel like shit, but also one that doesn’t have me constantly missing out on cheering on overseas friends, with whom IG is my only source of real communication.

And, as I said on my main blog, another big thing I’m changing is really controlling where my energy goes with my writing, and when. Because I do have a bad habit of focusing on fanfic more than I focus on the novel. There are a few reasons for that, and honestly I don’t even regret it – yet. But if I don’t make any changes, there will be a day on the horizon where I do.

Fanfic has been, and still is, great for me. It gave me a community of amazing, kind, supportive, and generous people when I was in the lowest point of my life (and I cannot overstate how much that made that time bearable for me), and it has improved my writing by miles. I’ve had people in my life who do openly view it as me wasting my time because it hasn’t gotten me further in my writing career when you only look at the basic facts, and there have even been times when I’ve been tempted to give into their way of thinking. However, earlier this year I read some very early drafts of the novel – from way back before I even started Little By Little – and they were just not good at all. Then, I look at the chapters I’m producing now, and seeing how much better they are, and that change is thanks to the sheer amount of fic I’ve produced in the last few years.

In part it’s because of the fact that writing so often is bound to improve said writing, but it’s also because of the feedback I’ve gotten on those fics. Feedback doesn’t always only limit itself to reflecting on the specific story that feedback pertains to. Sure, sometimes it’s a case of “I wasn’t a fan of this plot point” or “I don’t like this character”, but other times it’s “I feel like there has been too much introspection in these last few chapters” (which was a big problem with my writing at the start of this decade, and really showed in early novel drafts), or “I really enjoy the humour you put in your stories” – because allowing myself to have fun and be silly with the narration in Catch the Wind, and seeing not only how much fun I had with that, but how much people liked that, really freed me up to add the same thing into the novel itself.

It all contributes, and while I do have a tendency to get upset at myself for reaching the ripe old age of 27 without having yet even queried a single novel, I look back on the stuff I was writing at the ages when I really wanted it to happen that specific year, and I can see that my writing just wasn’t ready for it. Now, thanks to fic, it is.

But that still leaves me with the fact that I now really do need to start prioritising my time. The discrepancy with fic and original work comes in the form of instant validation. With fic, I can finish a chapter, and if it’s a popular story I might have a comment on it within an hour. And it’s not that I feel like I can’t write without that, but because it’s such a help with my own anxiety when it comes to writing. I have a tendency to finish every chapter thinking it’s shit, and I don’t believe otherwise until I have that first comment telling me someone enjoyed it. With novel work, it doesn’t work that way. And because the novel means so much to me, that adds to the anxiety, until there are times when I’m so anxious about working on it that I can’t even enjoy working on it, because I’m just telling myself “what if this is shit? What if you’ve wasted ten years of your life building this world and creating this thing, and it ends up being for nothing?”

And I mean, it won’t be for nothing. If no agent wants to take it on, I’m not averse to the idea of doing a patreon type thing with it once I’ve exhausted every other avenue, but it is just that initial anxiety. I know it’s irrational, and my beta readers are really enjoying it, but the fact remains that I am a Frightened Bitch. It’s genetic.

But I need to overcome that, and I won’t overcome that if I’m running to the safety blanket and instant validation of fanfic whenever my anxiety spikes.

This is something I’d resolved to fix for quite a few years now, but I’ve never gone in with a specific game-plan, which means I then fall back into usual habits very quickly, because “idk I’ll figure it out” isn’t cutting it here.

So, I’m imposing a rule where I can only post one fic chapter, total, a week. Not one chapter of each fic, just one chapter of one fic. Fridays will be fanfic days, and I’ll post my chapter, and then I’ll go back to novel work. If a few months go by and I’m especially happy with novel progress, I might up that. I still want to take part in flufftober, but I’m really hoping that by then novel work will be so far along that doing so won’t be a problem, because it’ll be a nice break from edits rather than all-out rewrites. The plan is to also decide at the start of each week what will be updated next, let you guys know what it will be so you’re not waiting only to find out it’s a fic you don’t even read, and then rotate between that and the novel during that week. My current way of doing things is to have like 12 word docs open at any given time and just add to each one here and there until something is finished, but that isn’t the most efficient way to go about this.

I do have other set outlines as to how I’m going to achieve my other goals, rather than just “read more” and “exercise more”, because breaking them down into concise weekly targets to hit makes so much more sense. As for the screen time/social media dilemma, I’m going to be taking every Monday off of social media – with the exception of answering IG messages, because I use that in place of texting and I don’t want to completely self-isolate, just lessen the scrolling and the posting. I’ll also be limiting how often I can post, because the folk who follow me over there will know that my IG stories get a bit unhinged re: length at times. If I need more than that, which I think I will, I’ll extend the break to Tuesdays, too.

And the 50 book goal is pretty neat, because I can then just set myself with the goal of one book per week, or aim for 100 pages a day, which is fairly doable most days.

It’s going well, so far! I worked out five times this week, I’ve done quite a bit of reading, and I’m currently in the progress of updating every fic that I want to update before this once a week rule comes in (HTWA, Free, and Fallen Through Time are the top priorities – then, I think HWFG should roll around to be the first thing I update come New Year).

And to finish things off, I mentioned in my last post that I’m forcing myself to go out and do fun things for the sake of doing fun things at least once per month, beyond just errands and stuff that needs to be done, even if it just means a solo cinema trip or whatever. I did that this month, so have my proof of that in parting. Went to the city centre for lunch with a friend, and to take in the Christmas lights and snoop at the pretty clothbound classics.

So happy to be able to post something actually positive on here for once! I intend to keep that up, and I’m very grateful to the people who are following along on here!

[prynnehesters]

i genuinely need to pump this out bcuz i saw a reddit thread abt which bg3 character would be the best college roommate and im like, thinking about the types of roommates they'd be lmaoo

gale

has tara as an esa. sometimes she goes to class w him, other times she's free to wander in the woods or whatever. a lot of neighbors know her

math major

probably works as a tutor/librarian/does some research

goes to bed early

constantly at school

goes out to pub trivia once a month

can cook/hosts dinner parties sometimes, but has some snacks he is weirdly anal about you not touching

if he were to experience being broken up with, it's a week of crying, eating ice cream, and listening to pop divas

snores

wyll

education major

involved w the student council, does a lot of volunteering, coaches kids soccer

goes out to parties every weekend, occasionally gets into trouble

brings back weird people sometimes

wakes up early to go work out (has a consistent schedule)

astarion

prelaw (either polysci, compsci, or theatre major who hates theatre kids)

basically never in the room (comes back after you're asleep/leaves before you wake up)

has a wacky schedule

your stuff disappears (can be money, food, etc)

gets into some shady shit

not fully aware of how loud he is sometimes

will throw a weird party once in a while

halsin

geology major

probably works at a climbing gym

chill af

really good at communication (texts you if he needs something or if you need to expect something from him)

gone most weekends (either home, camping, hiking, or uh, something else)

brings back a lot of people (but always warns you beforehand)

karlach

communications major

probably a student athlete

smokes cigarettes

goes out and parties often

will be your wingman

sometimes sends cryptic texts with lots of emojis

probably a metalhead

shadowheart

very religious (probably changes from Christianity to paganism in university)

has a little shrine in her area that she's protective over

probably brought a lot of stuffed animals

listens to scary music, goes to a lot of underground shows

has a lot of suitors she has to turn down cuz she's waiting till marriage lmao (until she meets the one)

probably has periods where she won't leave the room, but otherwise eh

english major

lae'zel

kinesiology major

strict routine

will criticize you if something's not to her liking or if you don't do something well enough/clean something enough

international student

probably has someone over several times a week

also goes out on weekends (but you never know what she does)

minthara

business major

knows where all the shady shit is

gets involved in shady shit

probably had to bail her out a few times, but she never learns lol

she's probably gonna take over her parents company, nothing really matters to her lol (in college just to party)

talks in her sleep

you basically have to do all chores around the apartment cuz she always claims to be busy

jaheira

biology major

straight forward about expectations, nothing too crazy tbh

probably has a safe that's highly guarded

idk she seems alright. i feel like she has a pretty lenient schedule ngl

minsc

dropped out of uni/in local community college

boo is a service animal

you have to bail him out every weekend cuz he never learns and gets involved in weird shit

[tongueofcat]

Personal, read if you want… warning though it’s a fucking novel.

Just went through a bittersweet dive through someone’s blog that I used to know because we had a mutual friend. We probably don’t anymore, said mutual friend and I don’t talk anymore on a one-on-one basis (it’s very long drama and I still don’t fully understand it). And I just… they have a very happy, fulfilling relationship and I wish them to have continued happiness… but, by reading their shenanigans and coupley goofs and good times, I’m reminded of my ex-wife and simultaneously said mutual friend.

If they read this they will most certainly know it’s them. I mean no ill will by writing this, my Tumblr has become sort of a diary under my talk tag to express myself and better process my emotions. Mainly because I have very little people to bounce off of anymore. Whose fault is that? Mine, probably. I just wish I knew what I did with my ex-wife and mutual friend to be essentially be abandoned on the metaphorical side of the road. Maybe I’m being slightly hyperbolic - we have a shared discord server that’s… not active whatsoever. It’s lucky if it gets 1 post a month. But, I digress, back to the point…

My ex-wife and I separated in May 2022; we were together for approximately 9.5 years (we lived together the whole time minus a few months). We were married April 1st, 2019 (the reasoning for the date was that she had trouble remembering dates and I wanted it to be an easy-to-remember date for her - we didn’t realize over half of Facebook, when we announced our nuptials, would assume we were joking). Since then I’ve done/have experienced the following:

- Moved away from my social circle.

I lovingly curated this social circle practically all my 20s. I was 29 when the separation happened and turned 30 within the next couple of weeks. This consisted of over 5 people, probably 10. This was a several states away move; I cannot just go visit my old once offline friends at my leisure. I cannot drive, and every attempt to learn in the past few years has all come down to me realizing I have whack-amounts of anxiety related to driving. More so than I used to think.

- Moved back in with my parents.

My parents and I, boy I do love them, form a dysfunctional unit at best. It’s… hard to be around them for extended periods of time and they’re really the only in-person people I see on a daily/weekly/monthly basis (see above: cannot drive). My father is a non-academic sports guy golfer who, when I try to explain my worldview and politics to him… just assumes I’m getting my information from Fake News™️ sites or just leftist media. He voted for Trump this year and I gave him so much shit for it my mother had to sit me down and tell me to stop. Said shit was try to educate him (I will admit most of it was done angrily/frustratedly) on what will happen because of his actions. My mother is now a capital D democrat (raised republican, but Trump’s last term flipped her). She is very academic, book-smart, and independent; she is also a British royalphile (she is not British, but did live there for a period of time in her youth) and excessively exercises (Pilates is her exercise of choice) — there is nothing wrong with exercising of course, it is good for you, it’s just she goes to classes 6 out of 7 days of the week multiple (2-3) times a day. Now that I’ve painted a picture for you of them, you can see how different they are… no wonder I’m a fucking Gemini because I’m like this odd mish-mash of their behaviors and personalities, as well as looks. Anyway, this is a very long way to try to explain that we don’t mesh well together. Since I’m the produced assigned middle ground at birth child, I’ve always been like a carrier pigeon between them. We rarely all socialize in the same room because we argue. So when I hang out with my parents it’s on a one-on-one basis… and it’s just. I love them but we are so different, despite me being their literal offspring. I find myself shut in my room most of the time… which of course is very lonely, but when I do venture out I get ridiculed for some reason or another or ignored entirely. I do not know which I prefer yet…

- Worked several part time jobs, all of which I struggled due to executive dysfunction (ADHD and possibly Autism, haven’t gotten around to getting tested sorry) and my physical disability.

I have always struggled in the work force, be it retail/food or corporate. Even well-medicated (ADHD, depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, chronic back pain) I never meet all the metrics necessary to stay hired for long. I am, however, generally well liked by coworkers as well as the clientele if applicable. I come to really enjoy most of the jobs I work in… only to be let go anywhere from 2 months in to half a year later. My last job fired me in October of 2023 over the phone on my day off. I have looked for work and submitted over 100 (I’m being serious) resumes to prospective employers and I haven’t gotten any bites. Eventually, I gave up, decided okay, I am in a lot of pain when I try to work, even with accommodations like ergonomic desk and being allowed to sit instead of standing my entire shift… why don’t I try my hand at applying for disability? I meet with a disability lawyer via a service that says they won’t get paid until I’m approved (getting like 1/4th or something of the first check/backpay). They say I might have a case, if I can scrounge up all the required medical proof needed for disability. I go to do that and find out my donkey-ass (read ass^2) doctors rarely notated my fucking ailments. Most of my notes just talk about me being overweight, I had to really dig to find fibromyalgia, a diagnosis I remember them slapping me with quickly after blood work and poking me in various painful places on my body. I have been told I have MULTIPLE ISSUES, but apparently I’ve simply just been told. I couldn’t believe it! My back pain, which I’ve gotten multiple scans for like MRIs and shit… all I can find is mild scoliosis. Um? I remember a doctor telling me it’s highly probable I have a pinched nerve or two. I gave up looking for more medical documentation due to the depression that came from me realizing 5+ years of medical drama watered down to, like… fibromyalgia and mild scoliosis. That’s all I could show for it on the physical medical side — I have a lot of mental health problems, too… but I decided I had enough. So I put it off… the attorney checked in with me via text while I had Bronchitis and I just… went off on them. I shouldn’t have done that, but I did.

TL;DR: I don’t think I’m eligible for disability of any kind.

- Discovered I do, in fact, self harm. Regularly if I don’t contain myself.

TW: sexual assault, sex.

The fall following the seperation from my wife I was so fucking lonely. I was doing poorly at my bakery job, a job a loved so much. I decided I needed to punish myself for everything that had led up to this moment: my failed marriage, my deteriorating health, being bad at jobs, and basically everything else. I am not the prettiest person, but I know my angles and how to sell myself to others due to a life of being in a near-constant state of anxiety. I make a Tinder and swipe on every man I can until I get hits. I do not discriminate by appearance because, in general, I am not initially attracted to appearance. I could write a paper on my sexuality, but not now. Long story short, I was not sexually attracted to any of them. This was not about my pleasure. I am able to obtain a date essentially every day in the upcoming week (5). They are not dinner dates… they are fuck dates. So I guess l got a bunch of hookups, whatever. I go along with anything the guy of the day wants to do, even if I normally wouldn’t do that. Most of these guys were okay individuals, one of them was actually a sweetie-pie. But then came Friday and I realized, mid-coitus, that I couldn’t do this anymore and I wanted to go home. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and continued doing his thing after I clearly said please stop. He told me to shut up and take it. I became numb and obliged. Afterwards I was bought an Uber to go home because he didn’t like my vibes (aka crying after being raped). It was not my first time being sexually assaulted, but beforehand it was mostly COCSA with the one exception of my first in-person boyfriend raping me while I was asleep. Anyways, something changed in my brain chemistry on that ride home in the Uber. I decided that level of degradation was the exact punishment I deserved for all my sins thus far. So I, extremely depressed and unmedicated, decided to try to recreate that feeling when my boss tells me to take the week of to recuperate (I told him I was sick, which wasn’t a complete lie - I had a cold). I just knew he wanted to fire me. I could feel it, I just could. That was my breaking point. Fast forward to the end of next week I put myself into sexual situations I didn’t want multiple (5+) times within that week. I do not consider any of them to be sexual assault, but it was enough that I had become numb during the act and felt like human garbage afterwards, so I got what I came for. I mention in passing to my online friends about my many, many hookups and it’s seen as a good thing. They think I was bragging. I wasn’t. I think a part of me was trying to get help. I do not blame my friends, only myself. Eventually the hookups became more and more spread apart… but, for the moment, I had opened myself up to being used sexually. This eventually ramped up to me performing sexual acts near my job for two coworkers. My fear in losing my job I enjoyed caused me to look at my behavior and actions and finally say no, I actually do not deserve or want this. And I stopped. That was spring May 2023. So this had been a cycle I had fallen into for a while.

- Had several crushes on people, most of them not panning out whatsoever.

I have one person who I think I could really be happy with, like a potential life partner. They feel similarly to me, but we’ve ultimately come to the conclusion that we both suck at romantic relationships, so we are not together. Also the fact they live in Scotland and I live in Texas. Because of this I have attempted to recreate any sort of love with others… I am currently solo poly and I have been since the separation.

I haven’t really dated anyone except my last boyfriend who I just broke up with. It wasn’t really that messy, essentially he looked at his life and realized he didn’t have time to properly be with me. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell though! We dated from early August 2024 to like… November 1st 2024. It wasn’t that long. But I had a good time… it was nice to feel loved for a while romantically.

Before that I had a massive crush on someone I met after being separated from my ex-wife, via my old social circle. They are such an interesting person! I confessed in May 2024 on discord in a rambling message like hey I think you’re really cool, sweet, and have amazing hair (also you’re pretty everywhere else, too) and I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I wanted to let you know how I felt regardless! They were flattered and ultimately declined dating, but we started this weird friends with benefits situation that, looking back on it, was more romantically-charged than sexual? Even when I visited my old stomping grounds where they lived a month later and stayed at their residence for multiple weeks, we didn’t have sex. Not for a lack of trying on my part, I prompted them multiple times. They kept declining and I was like cool, cool. We did, however, go on multiple dates. They even took me to a park at night and we talked a lot after an extremely long day of fun. It all felt very romantic to me. We made out/kissed a lot which I enjoyed very much… but I came to the conclusion we didn’t have a traditional friends with benefits setup. I… truly didn’t know what was going on. We had numerous hard conversations that watered down to you are infatuated with me (read: me, Cat, was infatuated with them) and we are not going to be together. We weren’t compatible in that sense, but enjoyed each other enough we didn’t want to ruin the relationship. I went home after a month of friend times in my old city and… we slowly stopped talking on a one-on-one basis. I became upset by this and… I don’t exactly remember what I wrote, but it wasn’t a happy message. I tried to explain how I was so confused and adored them. Recently, we’ve been hanging out in voice calls (like every other week, once or twice said week) and I have come to the conclusion that’s what our relationship has become. We are friends of a mutual friend that enjoy each other’s company, but not enough to maintain regular contact. This is ok. I wish them the best… they are an extremely talented and wonderful person.

Circling back to the person in Scotland. We have been talking on a more regular basis again (note: 1-3 times a week)… we started a new writing roleplay and it’s really fun. They are just… I’m crying writing this, okay? I deeply care for them. They’ve been there before my separation, and during the separation process they were one of my pillars I leaned on. They have stayed by my side unlike other friends/pillars I’ve lost. I want nothing more for them to be happy and healthy. I know I will never meet them in person, for multiple reasons… but I just… I love them so much. If someone were to ask me who my soulmate was they would be the first person that comes to mind. My ex-wife hated that word… and for a good reason. Fucked up story behind that one, I’ll tell ya! But, yeah. I would drop everything to be with them. It will not happen.

I have come to the conclusion that I am not compatible with relationships. So I have simply just stopped trying.

List over.

I have experienced so much so fast since the separation… I am tired. I do not see me being a productive member of society, a parent to human children, or even a life partner to anyone. I… don’t really know why I keep living other than a natural desire to not be dead. My life used to be my ex-wife and our little family of three fur babies… it’s all I really cared about at the end of the day. I’ve been searching for some meaning now that that’s gone. People have told me live life for yourself! And I just… I’m sorry that’s just not how I work. Before my ex-wife I wasn’t nearly as depressed and I remember being confident, too. I was athletic and independent as I could be for someone who still lived at home. Throughout my relationship with my ex-wife, we slowly became codependent. I remember a pivotal point in this was when I was staying with my parents for a month or more to attend a wedding. Her parents barred me from coming home and we basically had to convince them to let me come back. My ex-wife changed her parents in her phone to other names — I distinctly remember her changing her dad to sir. I don’t remember what she called her mom and her other mom. Yes there’s three of them, I am not going into detail about that, sorry. Anyway, it created an us vs them mentality we never really recovered from, even after moving into our own place a couple years later. I really liked her parents, even her other mom who seemed to have it out for me. I wanted their approval so bad! But, in the end I never got it. They weren’t like… evil, but I was never fully accepted into the family. I always felt like an other. My ex-wife and I were like two peas in a pod. We did everything together: watched shows, movies, played games with each other or watched the other while they played a game… and we wrote together. That’s how we met: we wrote together in a now-defunct roleplay site that eventually we migrated from to our own forum and Skype. We had several stories that spanned the entirety of our 9.5 year relationship… we were creating up until April 2022 according to our last roleplay/writing messages. So basically up until the end. A big part of leaving my ex-wife was leaving thousands of characters and storylines behind. All that love and work poured onto the floor like split milk.

I mention this to put it beside the game of monster of the week we had been playing with aforementioned friend for like, I’m not gonna check receipts, but around two years or so. The three of us would meet once a week on Saturday to play an intense 4-6 hour game that completely took over my life in the form of a new hyper focus. I used that game as a crutch to get through the weeks of working at a callcenter at an insurance company (a job I eventually had to leave due to how buck wild my depression got). It was amazing. My ex-wife is a fantastic storyteller and all-around creator and my old friend is just amazing, too. Fantastic creatives. I considered myself the weak link between the three of us, I even had bouts where I was like am I even worthy of being in this game, they are soooo talented. But, despite that, the three of us became exceptionally close. We had a group chat that we all talked in basically all day everyday. I developed feelings for said friend. Apparently my type is oh, you’re creating something with me? Damn, that’s very attractive can I love you forever? Under the right circumstances at least (I haven’t found every aspect in recreating it purposefully, believe me I’ve tried). Anyway, we had a lot of fun. It was so fun to talk every day and share memes about MOTW between ourselves. Old friend is, not being hyperbolic, one of my all-time favorite artists. They drew a lot for the MOTW campaign and it was so cool. Anytime they drew, be it for the campaign or not, I adored it. It made me want to draw and create more, and they encouraged it. Old friend was a great friend! I… miss them a lot. Just message them I hear you whisper through the internet. I can’t. They have repeatedly asked me not to message them directly. So I don’t… in hopes I will hear from them again one day and we can rebuild our relationship. I highly doubt that will happen now. The last time we really talked about that they mentioned something along the lines of ‘I can be a guy you know’ when responding to my hopes of friendship. I’m still not sure what that means exactly, but I know it’s not friendship in the traditional sense. What did do you to warrant this reaction? Looking back at the message logs I’m still not 100% certain. I wasn’t an angel, I had emotional outbursts and begged them for attention. But when I cited those things as possible reasons why they did what they did, they said that wasn’t the reason. That I was cherry picking. I… I’m being entirely honest here: if you’re reading this I still don’t know exactly what I did. I read my friend’s explanations and remember at the time being so afraid of losing them that I thought I understood at the time, but at the end of the day I didn’t. I did not go back to read the messages for the purpose of writing this, but I do remember them pretty well. That said, I could be forgetting key details. I didn’t want to relive that fear of losing them and the sadness that comes with the conclusion that I have. We will never be close again, and that’s ok. I am just happy we were close at all. I wish them nothing but happiness. Maybe, in another life, we can be friends again. Or something else.

I miss my friend. I miss my ex-wife. I miss my fur babies. My ex-wife has blocked me on text and all social media. I haven’t seen my fur babies since May 2023 if I had to guess off the top of my head. I could talk about how I, in hopes of maintaining a civil relationship/possible friendship with my ex-wife gave into too many of her requests and worked around her whims too much after the separation, but I don’t want to go into detail about that. We will never talk again now that the divorce has been finalized… and that’s ok. I can mourn it. I’m allowed. But it’s a wound that doesn’t truly heal. Like when you break your leg when you’re older: it heals, but it’s never the same. I write this in my bed alone in pain. I am always alone now. At least in a proximal sense. I haven’t been outside my house in over a month. I eat just to survive most days, not out of any sense to savor or find pleasure in it. I am lonely, I am depressed, and I am going to die alone.

I’m tired of putting myself out there. I’m tired of swiping on dating apps and having a million conversations about the same thing and same interests only for them to eventually ghost me when I ask to meet up. I am choosing to see the blessings I do have and be thankful: housing, food, online friends I talk to on a semi-regular basis, writing, and games and other enrichment. Not everyone has that.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t mourn the domesticity of going grocery shopping, of hyping your partner up when they come out of the dressing room looking fine as heck in those pants, cooking together, doing chores while listening to the same thing (usually a YouTube essay or a podcast)… and all the other stuff I miss about living with my ex-wife. I miss the funny text messages we would send to each other, some of them are even memorialized on this Tumblr. I miss having a person and them having me. I miss how we could just look at each other and communicate full sentences. I miss her laughter. She had a great smile. One time we were at Hobby Lobby (ew, I know) and she took out one of those comically large roses and I took a picture of her smiling with one. It was her contact photo in my phone for years and I think it still is. I’m not going to check. I miss coloring her tattoo on her back with markers. I miss bleaching/dyeing each other’s hair. I miss going on long random drives and inevitably getting to long, deep discussions in a parking lot. Usually it was the Baker’s parking lot. I miss going to the grocery store at like 1 am, both of us sick out of our minds and in some state of delirium we see an end cap of blue Gatorade on sale and one of us shout BLUE, YOU LOVE BLUE. I forgot who said the famous line, but it became an inside joke. I miss giggling about stupid shit.

I miss her.

I miss her.

I miss her.

I think she was the love of my life. I’m probably still in love with her, despite my best efforts. My life isn’t the same without her, and I don’t just mean simply because I’m alone now and have basically no local friends. I’m not the same. I have changed, I have grown, my body has attempted to heal the hole she has left in my heart, but all it can manage it try to grow over it. It’s never been filled. It never will be. Nobody can fill it but her. And that’s… okay. That’s life, right? That’s a lost love. Numerous people go through this. I am not special to have experienced love lost.

I will not be awarded the same experience with the person I love in Scotland. I’m not even sure I should accept it if offered. I don’t know if I, someone who has fumbled a love so badly, should be trusted with another person’s heart. I don’t want to hurt anyone again.

So I will lock myself away and rot in my bed until I die.

I can’t hurt anyone from inside a cage.

[cutielando]

Heyy can you write some headcanons or a oneshot ab charles dantinga an emo girl and she plays bass in a band too?

emo | c.l.

synopsis: in which you're a little emo girl

my masterlist

you met in Las Vegas at an after party after the Grand Prix

he didn't typically go for emo girls, but there was just something about you that he couldn't resist

you began talking and he found out that you also played bass in a band

of course, being the gentleman he was, he made sure to attend at least one of your concerts before he left the US and went back to Monaco

true to his word, he was in the first row at your band's concert, the night before he was supposed to catch a plane back home

he took you out after the concert that same night, claiming he couldn't leave without going on a date with you

and everything was history from that point on

it was hard to maintain the relationship at first, the distance taking its toll on you guys for the first few months

but then you made the decision of quitting the band and move with him to Monaco

Charles had been wary at first, thinking that you were only doing it for him, but you reassured him that you had taken the decision because you felt like it was the right thing to do

you would most probably keep the relationship a secret for the first few months, just to see where it goes

after you were both sure you were completely in, you slowly started showing the world little bits of your relationship

his fans absolutely loved your dynamic

you also had such different energies, it was refreshing to see you two completing each other

dates every Friday night

he would encourage you to start playing again

flew out your former band to Monaco so you could play together

attends all of your concerts whenever he can

flies you out with him to his races and makes sure to show you off to everyone

posting sweet stories and pictures of each other

even though your sense of style consisted primarily of very dark colored clothes, you would start wearing bits and pieces of the color red whenever you were in the paddock or seen in public

also influencing Charles who would want to match your style while out and about

would love the shit out of you

his fans would become more obsessed with you than him

his family also loved you and how you brought something fresh into Charles' life

his mother made it her mission to take you out around Monaco every week, except when you were away with Charles

everyone admiring how much you take care of him and keep him grounded

adopting a black cat after getting Leo, because why not

black cat, golden retriever energy (nobody can convince me otherwise)

teaching you what proper love feels like

you took a while to fully open up to him, but you eventually trusted him with your life

you love each other with your entire souls

being one big happy family

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[qnewsau]

Soapbox. Prejudice: things are getting better

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/soapbox-prejudice-things-are-getting-better/

Soapbox. Prejudice: things are getting better

Prejudice impacts terribly on people’s lives even when it falls short of violence. Destiny Rogers reflects on experiencing a lifetime of anti-LGBTQIA+ prejudice and the recent realisation that things can be so much better.

When you shit yourself…

As a cancer patient, when you cough and shit yourself and — unable to clean up — must rely on a stranger to do it, then you know what it’s like to have not a scrap of human dignity.

But when that stranger treats you with kindness, respect and compassion, it makes all the difference in the world.

I speak from experience.

For most of my 64 years on this planet, as a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I have been accustomed to being treated as a lesser being. I’m far from alone. It is the common plight of minority groups. And generally no big deal to me. It’s wrong and it’s irrational but I know the people who treat me and others as subhuman are f*cking morons. That consoles me somewhat.

Of course, it’s not everyone. I grew up with a mob of kids in a small country town who never excluded me or treated me as any lesser because I was different. They have remained consistently decent human beings all their lives. However, an unpleasant note intruded in Grade 11.

Strange logic

The school in my hometown only went to Junior so I did Grades 11 and 12 in a neighbouring town. On a school trip, two Grade 12 boys who considered themselves lords of our little universe, stripped me naked in a shower and held a razor to my dick. I was terrified. They abused me for being a girl while threatening to turn me into one. Strange logic.

A few months later, on the last school day of the year, we could wear what we liked. I wore a skirt and blouse. The same pair of thugs rounded up a gang to do something I’d heard of but regarded as urban myth. Shove my head in a toilet and ‘show me the goldfish’. After they left and I stopped vomiting, I washed my hair in a handbasin, dried my tears and went back to class apparently without a care in the world.

What was the f*cking point? A lesson many of us learned in those days. Ignore it. It won’t go away. But no one is coming to your rescue.

Both those boys are dead now. Occasionally I see their names mentioned with condolences and think ‘What a pair of c*nts’.

I’m not big on forgiveness.

A lifetime of undeserved good health

At 64, I’ve enjoyed a lifetime of undeserved good health, avoiding hospital stays other than for nose and breast jobs (and possibly a facelift.🤐)

I enjoyed such good health I often told myself that one day karma would kick my arse in retribution.

And it did. This year I’ve spent weeks, nay months, in Queensland hospitals – both regional and metro.

The care I’ve been given is extraordinary. Queensland Health, in my experience, is far from the basketcase that sensationalist media platforms carry on about in search of clicks.

Illness is unpleasant. That goes without saying. But during my unfamiliar journey into the health system, I have felt safe because I have been treated with respect and decency.

My difference has made no f*cking difference.

I have experienced unbelievable kindness.

The strength of our health system is the people who work in it and, in my experience, they are magnificent. The health workers do a good job. That’s to be expected. It’s what they’re paid for. But it’s the extra human dimension that makes the real difference – the kindness, the respect, the decency… the lack of prejudice.

You cocksucking f*ggot… you ugly d*ke… you stupid g**k… you black c*nt…

Queensland Health employs people from virtually every demographic: race, religion, culture, sexual orientation, gender identity, weight, age…

And that seems to be a key factor in the lack of prejudice I experienced during my hospital stays. Health workers are accustomed to working with and depending on all different sorts of people.

But they are not unfamiliar with prejudice. It is ever-present in their working life.

I have never before witnessed the level of abuse common in hospital emergency departments.

I’ve listened as nurses seamlessly transitioned from cleaning up blood and shit and piss and vomit to providing sometimes lifesaving care to patients bombarding them with relentless abuse.

“I’ll f*cking kill you f*ggot… ugly d*ke, stupid g**k, black c*nt…”

Oh yes!

Everyone is a f*ggot, d*ke, g**k or c*nt to an angry bigot determined to cast blame for their pain.

But not once have I seen a health worker refuse help to these horrendous people.

So this holiday season, be grateful for the amazing health care we enjoy in Australia and our incredible health workers. Whatever the outcome of my health battle, I know the difference it has made to experience such unprejudiced and non-discriminatory care just when I needed it most.

More Soapbox:

Was I the first Trans Santa? …and the grumpiest?

Sex Worker Health and Safety.

Image: Destiny Rogers

For the latest lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex and queer (LGBTIQ) news in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.

[survivor76612651041]

Super Faded: black places

It's 2:30 in the afternoon all.the squares are at work luck I live on the rough side of town and lots active as usual at this time. The 24 hour stret crew is active. Pull up on em

Me What up ?

Street Cst:What up Dez

Me: You know me nothing but the mean green

Street cat: 4 sho what you need

Me: let me get 20 real quick

Boom it goes down the notorious drug exchange the Police have been villianizimg daily for years. Looks like buisness as usual

I go in to the Bodega buy some old English 800 and swisher sweet wraps. A 40 and a blunt man.

I pull up on my front lawn and do my normal ritual to escape the horrible world. Like the tobaccos you waste on the streets curb, then put that real shit in Instead and get super faded.

Super faded

Growing up my mom was so thrifty she never let me get the cool stuff she only bought me whst we needed Instead. They was Nike but they was sears roebuck joints ya know . I had to get my own street gear myself by mowing Lawns , doing odd jobs and shit like that. So I git my first consistent summer Jon getting g a real life check like 600 every two weeks at13 you feel like a millionaire from the hood with that much money young. Mom's as usual thinking conventional used to cut my hair fir free , I hated those cuts. Unk used to do a nice fade but it was hard to get to him. So I took my first check and went to the fir real barber shop , Mr wfros was my real shop but my first official hair cut was at this location

Me; let me get a (Nas) fade withthe waves on top.

Super dope hood barber: no problem

I had been brushing my hair alll month grease soft brush a d even stocking cap on the whole kit. The barber knew the style didn't have to explain

And got super faded

The barber shop the black man country club of sorts . We don't got marlsgo we got the barber shop.

I find so few places where I live to be black dominant these two places are some if the times I feel so truly authentic lying black with no shame. Kinda sad our black experiences are limited to so few places still.

Just some thoughts while smoking one

[f4irycafe]

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - 𝒂𝒐𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒔

⤷ summary: aot boys wth high maintenance girlfriends.

⤷ characters: jean, armin, connie, eren,

⤷ content warnings: suggestive themes, fluff, black!coded reader, college!au.

⤷ notes: my MEN.

PLEASE REBLOG

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧

baby boy is obsessed with you. like the biggest simp outta all of them fs.

jean isn't rich, but he's worked hard for all the $$ he has.

and he def doesn't mine spending all that shit on you okayyyyyyyyy.

he knew you liked to keep up w yourself, new nails and lashes every few weeks, new wig/braids/locs every few months.

he was just soo in awe of your presence for a while he didn't even consider how much that stuff costs.

"baby how much does your hair cost?" he asks you one day as ur just chilling on the couch in your dorm.

"couple hundred, why?" atp he knows all abt your hair care n stuff so this isn't no invasive ass question.

eyes = dropped out of his head.

he tries to play it cool like, "oh alright," but inside he's like, i've been letting her pay hundreds for her hair ALONE this entire time.

now whenever you mention you wanna go get ur lashes refilled, or ask him to pick a color, his first question is,

"how much is it?"

i feel like there is one or two services he chooses to pay for consistently, like braids and nails. he got money, but not that much so he can't be wildin out for you.

you get the biggest heart eyes when he does tho. sometimes you don't even have to ask and you get a veno notif on your phone.

"$250 from jean" - get the white tips i like.

cause yuk know, he likes to watch em when you ... yeh yeh u get it.

supportive, love to spoil you, but will act so nonchalant abt it.

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧

rich boy armin? rich boy armin.

he lives a high maintnence lifestyle as it is, tailed clothes, designer book bags, shoes, glasses, family homes in europe. your typical trust fund baby.

honestly, that was the first thing he noticed about you. the nice but still lowkey car, the sleek bags, the perfect professional looking wigs and braids, even the smells you wore just exuded an air of confidence.

he loved it.

being a boy tho, he didn't realize just how much money went into upkeep with your look per week.

he was shocked, sure, but your finances barely made a dent in his pockets.

the type boyfriend to just hand you an asswad of cash at the beginning of the week and say "go crazy,"

at first you wanted to test just how much you could get out of him. a new white tie dress for some elite school event, the new apple watch that just dropped, wigs that cost upwards of $500 for you to only wear them for a week.

when you finally realized that this boy would do any and everything for you, you toned it down a bit.

but now, he pays for all your shit. eyelashes, hair, nails, perfume.

you still be paying for your phone, car, rent etc, but all that personal shit, yeah its his.

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧

hehehe. y'all know this is my husband quit playingggggg

while armin goes after the pretty rich girls, eren goes after the ones that do this shit just cause they can.

you be working for every inch of hair on your head trust and BELEIVEEEEEEE.

thats one of the things he admires about you, how hard you work for the stuff you want. even if that shit seems superficial to others, you can fr do anything you put your mind to.

another trust fund baby. (i hc grisha as a world class surgeon and carla as a lowkey fashion designer)

he just thinks ur so pretty. like jean, worships the ground you work on.

one night you're trying to set up an appointment for these fancy ass locs that almost touch the floor but you're stressin tryna figure out when you can fit another shift in at work between studying, classes and your extracurriculars while on ft w him.

he's quiet and contemplative on the phone, not really giving answers outside of "i'm sorry bae :("

in the morning you wake up to a venmo notif.

"stink-a-link paud you $600 - hair app. get those nails you've been wanting too."

at first you kinda freak out cause 600??? aint no one treated you like this before.

he just smiles when you try to call him, asking him to take it back.

"i got money to spend, and ik how much this style means to you. if you're happy i'm happy pretty girl."

the sweetest.

plus he gets bragging rights. cause who tf elses girl is looking this damn fine? right , no ones.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞

CONSTANCE

if you've been here for a while you know its rich drug dealer connie or nothin.

yall probably got together cause he was ur plug and gave u a lil too much free weed lmaooooo.

but he been payin for your shit from the start.

the only catch - u gotta get what he wants.

its never wack or emberassing, our boy got taste and an eye for fashion, trust he does u right.

he be putting the description in the venmo tag LMAO

"buss down 30in. honey brown beach wave ..."

LIKE BOY HOW U KNOW WHAT THAT ISSSSSSSSS? U THE OPPS OR SOMETHIN

sometimes he'll just give you like a color for the nails and hair. he don't be knowin much about lashes tho, but he likes the cat eye ones the most.

everyone is always thirsting after you fr.

makes him so proud. maybe a lil too proud HAHA

but he'll drive u to all ur appointments. he doesn't care how long they are he'll wait. or go home and bring u food if its a long hair day.

hypes u up so much when u get in the car talkin bout "you so pretty babe".

can't stop looking at you.

elles rambles: i - love them so much. biased w eren as always. but i want these boys to spoil me. specially connie :))))))0

[seancekitsch]

the tape: eddie munson x reader! part 2

part 1 here

summary: eddie goes to your show

Eddie makes sure he’s on time, early even, for the Corner fucking Thursday this week. With his best friend Gareth Emerson in tow, he practically stomps over to the bar and orders a round for them.

“Didn’t think I’d see you stray from the Hideout,” Gareth teases, gladly accepting the beer placed in front of him. Everything the Hideout was for local bands and bikers, the Corner was for the weird and wild. It isn’t situated in Hawkins proper, more like fifteen minutes into the next town. The rumor was that actual famous bands sometimes played secret shows here, but no one he knew had actually been to one to confirm this. Truthfully, Eddie’s been trying to get Corroded Coffin a set here for years, but the owner is extremely picky on who he books. It only says more about this band that they play here consistently. Something they do has to wow the owner.

“Had to see what this Say Ten Mistress stuff is all about,” Eddie replies, trying to stay cool. In reality, he’s been practically bouncing since Robin showed him the tape. Replaying it over and over until he was sure Wayne knew all the lyrics too. Something about the voice of that front woman just scratched this itch he didn’t know he had, unlocked something fierce inside him.

“Oh shit man, That’s what this is about? They’re good,” Gareth takes a sip, “Their drummer is a really cool dude, and that singer of theirs has kind of like a satanic Siouxie Sioux kind of vibe going—“

“You listen to Siouxie Sioux?” Eddie interrupts, scoffing.

“Dude, Kristen listens to her every time I give her a ride. It’s actually kinda good when you get used to it.”

Ah, Kristen, he should have known. Gareth’s Irish twin, his younger sister born just ten and a half months after the brunette. She’s like if you took courageous Nancy Wheeler, dialed her volume up to twelve, and added a hefty dose of man-hating into the mix. An ultra-feminist who still somehow snagged a spot on the cheer team in some crazy paradoxical event, and one of Eddie favorite people.

“And what does Kristen have to say about this band?” Eddie presses, caring about what the high schooler thinks.

“They’re in her radar, but she still prefers Chrissie Hynde more. Her and Y/n, uh, the singer, have smoked a few times.”

God dammit, Eddie thinks, does everyone cool in this town know this band except for him?

They change the subject to Corroded Coffin pretty quickly after that, with Eddie suggesting they do another Dio cover and Gareth suggesting The Misfits or something because the weather was starting to turn for fall and it might be fun and seasonal. Eddie surprisingly doesn’t hate the idea, and briefly ponders if Y/n likes the Misfits, but doesn’t voice that to Gareth.

Eddie is about to respond when a strum of a guitar interrupts him. The lights switch from their normal spotlights to red, casting the entire room in a bloody glow. So far only the guitarist is onstage, and he looks like if that one guy from Dune went goth with a frilly black shirt and more jewelry than even Eddie wears. Slowly, the rest of the band takes the stage. The drummer that Gareth thinks is cool, and Eddie sees why, he’s exactly Gareth’s type. The bassist is next, a woman, tall and dressed like Vampira, corset and all. They all start to play and the music swells, almost coming to a head before Y/n steps onto the stage. Satanic Patti Smith as a description does not do you justice. Eddie thinks he’s in love before the woman even opens her mouth, as she’s dressed in all leather and chains like a heavy metal wet dream.

You open your mouth, and it’s all over for Eddie Munson.

The set starts with the last song from the tape, clearly a warning to all the normal people in the crowd that pleasantries about Indiana would not serve here. You command the stage, stalking the audience like prey at one moment and crooning to them like a lover the next. Eddie’s never seen anything like it, and Gareth is lightly head banging along while he sips his beer.

The next song is a cover of The Birthday Party’s Release the Bats. How fucking apt, Eddie thinks, as he rubs one of the scars from the Demobats that sits on his shoulder. The band goes hard with this one, even the Vampira bassist cracking her cool demeanor to rock out and work her face into a snarl as she plucks her strings. You’re on the ground on the stage, screaming out the lyrics to the song as if you actually are commanding an army of psycho bats and sex vampires. Eddie can just hear Wayne’s voice in the back of his head calling this ‘slightly vulgar’ as you punctuate a line with a thrust of your hips, but Eddie’s so into it.

As that song ends, you take a pause instead of jumping right into the next song and stand up to gather yourself and get a sip of your drink. Wine, from what Eddie can tell. Gareth says something about getting the next round and walks off but Eddie’s barely paying attention to him.

He gets why you guys got this spot and Corroded Coffin didn’t. You’re about evenly matched with talent, but your stage presence is so hypnotic he’s still not sure if you’re actually a siren. People don’t talk over Say 10 Mistress’ set like they do Corroded Coffin.

“I just wanna say thank you to all the new faces out here tonight,” your soft voice floats into the mic, “Especially the guys of Corroded Coffin over there, your stuff rules.”

And you say it like you mean it.

Eddie stiffens, his entire spine freezing in place. You knew his music. You knew of him. You liked his stuff. You recognized them in a crowd. Gareth bumps him back into reality, handing him another can of beer and cheering at the praise as you and your band start up into the next song. Eddie, as if in a trance, zeroes in on nothing but the stage, slowly bringing himself through the crowd to get closer and dragging his best friend along with him.

The next two songs go by almost too quickly, and it’s suffocating being so close to you. You do that Cramps cover again and then an original about some female subject who only dates ‘monsters’ literally. He can only, in some extremely corny part of his mind, hope it’s autobiographical and you can widen that dating pool to include ‘freaks’ too.

“Alright this is our last song, it requires some set up,” The guitarist announces, red lighting switching back to the regular spotlights. You, the drummer, and the bassist set up a table with objects Eddie can’t really see from this angle.

And then the first song of yours he ever heard starts to play, and you step back into the spotlights.

Lyrics about love that really Eddie’s never cared for now sound like the most interesting thing ever. He knows what the song is actually about, but he can’t help but wonder if you’ve actually written them from some place of your own personal devotion. Do you have someone? Can he be that someone? Fuck, he didn’t expect to be struck like this so quickly. He’s getting ahead of himself.

As the lyrics start to change, he notices something. Somewhere along the the way, each member of the band has put a fake dagger between their teeth except for you.

The guitarist pulls his from his mouth and starts to recite the incantation, pausing only to mime stabbing their singer with the dagger, fake blood actually dripping. The screams from the tape start up, prerecorded probably to save those lovely vocal chords of yours, and you stumble towards the bassist while the incantation continues. You do charades, begging for help, and she only smiles and mimes stabbing you as well. The music builds again, more intense, now becoming a wall of sound that blasts through the room. More fake blood, more prerecorded screams.

You make your way to the drummer, now pretending to stumble harder, really making a fuckin meal of your acting. Eddie is entranced, and he pulls a smirking Gareth even closer to the stage.

The drummer leans into the microphone near his kit.

“I thought sacrifices had to be virgins?” he jokes.

Without missing a beat, the guitarist pauses his incantation to respond.

“In a town like this? You take what you can.”

Both men share a laugh before the drummer hits hard on the snare and fake stabs you a third and final time. You drop to your knees before turning back to the audience, make up smeared with fake blood and mascara now. You crawl downstage on your hands and knees, until you reach the edge.

You look straight at Eddie now, reaching out your hand and mouthing ‘help’. Eddie meekly reaches back, just before you fake collapse.

The guitarist finishes his recitation, and all of the music fades. The crowd seems stunned, silent at first.

And then you peel up from your spot on the ground, smiling and giggling as you dust yourself off.

“We are Say Ten Mistress, thank you goodnight!” You shout quickly into the mic, before bouncing offstage, probably to wash the fake blood off before it dried and stained your skin.

Eddie stays frozen in place as if mesmerized as the rest of the band packs up and starts to cart all of their equipment offstage. What the fuck had he just witnessed?

“Good right?” Gareth shatters his haze. He’s smiling like he knows a secret, something Eddie doesn’t know. It’s teasing and smug and Eddie knows that look well.

“Good?” Eddie scoffs, “That was fucking magnificent!”

Gareth laughs, and then finishes his beer.

“Well their drummer Bill asked if we wanted to kick it after the show, you in?”

That’s what Eddie didn’t know. Your band knew he’d be in the crowd. This was a set up. Maybe partly for Gareth too but definitely for Eddie. What a crafty little shit, he thinks.

“Now why’s it take you so long to say that? What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

[archerincombat]

beneath my mother tongue

He sits bolt upright in his seat. Jee-Yun squeals at the sudden movement. “Holy shit,” he says out loud, simultaneously praying that it doesn’t become one of those words his niece repeats until it loses its sparkle. “I told Eddie I loved him.”

Jee-Yun laughs. It feels a little like she’s mocking him. “Dee,” she agrees solemnly, placing a tiny hand on Buck’s cheek.

Or: Buck goes home to Pennsylvania. It's more familiar than he wants it to be.

read on ao3 | 31k

Even on the hottest weeks in Los Angeles, Buck always runs cold.

He wears long sleeves in the fall just in case they have a call inside—a hotel, maybe, where the air conditioner is cranked a little too high for Buck not to wind up with a light headache, because his bones need a few more minutes than everyone else’s to unthaw. He’s probably the only one at the 118 who doesn’t mind wearing their turnout gear in the summer; shivers for at least an hour after every water rescue. Bobby makes fun of him for it relentlessly. 

How’d you survive Pennsylvania, kid?

Sometimes, Buck will laugh about it, grinning while Eddie complains about how stupid these daredevil YouTube kids are. Other times, he’ll reply, Didn’t really, teeth chattering and a thermal blanket over his shoulders. Bobby’s face usually does something complicated then; he pulls the fiberglass sheet a little tighter over Buck’s shoulder.

The day it happens, the weather is unbearably warm, even for April. It’s early—enough so that the coffee pot at the station is consistently empty, and sluggish enough that no one has the energy to refill it. Bobby will, inevitably, when he comes out of his office and fixes them all with a disappointed glance, always sighing heavily as Eddie finds his way to the kitchen at the next fresh pot.

So it’s all very scheduled, even between the few calls they’ve had. Buck is playing video games with Ravi while Hen studies. Chim and Eddie sit at one of the circular tables and woe about watching their kids grow up or something disgustingly adorable that if Buck listens to one word, he’ll think about Eddie for the rest of shift. Not that he’s not already thinking of...whatever.

Buck and Ravi are on Rainbow Road. He can’t afford to be distracted, but Eddie’s in the room, and this thing between them is only two weeks old, even if it feels much older, so Buck takes an accidental swan dive into the abyss and uses the chance to glance behind him as Lakitu puts his Toad back onto the track. 

Eddie’s shoulders are lower than they were a few months ago. It’s the first thing Buck notices—between the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and the way his fingers rest on the table, without that anxious drumming or white carved into the skin of his knuckles. He’s happy now. Here. In the same space that Buck is happy in. Which, half a year ago, felt like an impossibility. 

Somedays, it still does. Somedays, when Eddie jumps at a plate falling or Buck just can’t look at the white button downs in his closet, everything feels breakable. But they haven’t in a while, and Buck’s given up on accidentally tempting fate. 

“Are you trying to lose?” Ravi breaks in, immediately falling off the road, because for some godforsaken reason he always picks Baby Rosalina and uses a Peach Parasol.

“I’m literally beating you,” Buck retorts, and his desire to be better than Ravi, who’s no longer a probie and therefore can’t be ordered around without Buck looking like an asshole, wins over the chance Eddie might look over and catch his eye. “You had a bullet thing, and you’re still in 8th place.”

“I’m Baby Rosalina,” Ravi answers, falling off again. 

“You guys are both awful at this game,” Hen says out loud. 

She momentarily glances up from probably the thickest book Buck has ever seen, looking exhausted. She looks like that a lot these days, but it’s a warm tiredness—leaning against Buck’s shoulder in the ladder truck to rest her eyes or laughing at Bobby’s jokes even when they aren’t that funny—she gives him that smile now, shaking her head when Buck sticks his tongue out at her.

“You’re just afraid we’ll beat your high score,” Ravi sasses back and Buck low-fives him as he crosses the finish line. They share a look of boyish amusement as Hen scoffs—Buck’s been here for four years and he’s never gotten close to Hen’s spot on the throne.

“Lunch,” Bobby announces. Chim and Eddie move to set the table while Bobby brings over the Caesar salad. Ravi turns off the game and goes downstairs to gather the rest of A-shift. Hen bookmarks her page and considers him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“What?” Buck demands, brushing a hand over the top of his head self-consciously, landing, as always, with his thumb rubbing at his birthmark. “Why are you looking at me?”

“Nothing.” Hen stands, but she’s still looking, so obviously it’s not nothing. She offers him a small smile, “You just look happy.”

continue on ao3