#personally i would love it if i regularly got messages like this in my inbox this is so lovely

[modelbus]

MODEL HELP-

i just typed a long ass message and it all deleted itself-

question, do you think you want to do another part on cut chaos? No pressure ofc, but I’d be cool! (I have a bunch of ideas for it I’ll send seperate (maybe) feel free to ignore them but like free crappy inspo man)

Request: Y/N is a part of SBI but they aren’t treated that great by the fandom or really the rest of the group. Its not like SBI MEANS to disregard the ‘hate’ towards Y/N like its nothing but they tend to dismiss or just ignore it, of course, they are still really close and care about Y/N, it still just hurts a little that they ignore it. But where the creators don’t realise they’re neglecting their friends emotions, the fans? They are fully aware they constantly joke about Y/N being the worst member of SBI. They are fully aware they also always ‘joke’ about forgetting Y/N exists. They are fully aware that despite Y/N being in as many if not more ‘SBI’ streams or videos than the other creators, they act as if they’re not actually a part of SBI. They are fully aware many of them aren’t joking when they say Y/N is not a member of SBI, or when they say they wish Y/N would stop showing up to streams. They are fully aware that the main ‘joke’ people think of when they think SBI is something along the lines of; “Whos Y/N?” or “Y/N is SO the middle child of the SBI, we all forget them!” or “Y/N? Ohhh you mean the one that’s annoying but its not funny!” .. When the SBI are streaming bedwars 2v2v2’s with a random viewer each game and that viewer happens to end up on Y/N’s team (and be an asshole) they, of course, decide to complain that out of every member they could be teamed with, they got the worst member of SBI! (Even though Y/N and techno practice pvp together regularly and the only person in SBI Y/N can’t kill is techno) While Y/N does what they always do and laughs it off with a SICK comeback (despite how much it hurts when they realise they expected that kind of reaction to being teamed with them), the rest of the SBI seems to snap as though that was their final straw (starting with tommy yelling ‘THATS BULLSHIT’ or smth) and all collectively go on a rant about how shitty most(?) fans treat Y/N, to Y/N’s surprise most of all of the fives chats are agreeing..? Y/N starts to realise maybe they aren’t as hated as they thought.. and maybe, just maybe, they are a lot more loved then they realised.

MODEL I’M SO SORRY MY REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS SO LONG-

Its funny how I’m not motivated to write actual fics but I can write 800 word requests-

LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK!!!

✨🌌🌙 Annon-

I’d love to write more for Cut Chaos! My writing has been all over the place lately because I’ve been really busy (school stuff :/) but I do enjoy writing for that (not-so) little series

Pairing: Gn!Reader X CC!SBI (Tommy, Techno, Phil, Wilbur)

Found Fury

You aren’t unfamiliar with the term unwanted. If anything, you’ve burrowed yourself a home in the word, splitting it in two. Accepted yourself for what you are.

Quite honestly, if there was a record for ‘most hated SBI member’ it’d go to you. Actually, it wouldn’t, considering how most people don’t even see you as a member of SBI. The forgettable middle child, adrift alone.

There wasn’t much you could do except accept it.

Bothering the others with it was unfathomable. Besides, they’ve surely seen some hint of it. They aren’t quite that blind, even if Wilbur and Techno do wear glasses. And, seeing as how they haven’t said a word… maybe it’s best if you didn’t nag about it.

It’s not that you’re partial to the so-called ‘suffering in silence,’ because you really aren’t. But you’re uniquely acquainted with brushing things off, pretending that your friends’ continued silence doesn’t sting and that being excluded from the group isn’t heart-wrenching. In the end, who really cares what strangers online think?

You can ignore the messages in your inboxes. The emails to your professional email asking if you’re really a part of SBI. All the replies to all your posts. Every fucking comment on every video you’re in.

Sometimes, it piles around you so high that you can’t see past it. Words strung together to form sentences that rephrase ‘Who even are you’ a thousand times. Or the more creative, ‘How do you manage to be unfunny AND annoying’ mixed with a side of scorn. It’s worse when it trends on Twitter after a stream, but who are you to complain?

After all, you’re just lucky to be following SBI around according to Twitter. Blessed to be in their fucking presence.

For the most part, you just hire more mods. And they’re pretty strict with bans, so your chat tends to err on the positive side. Everyone else’s? Well, let’s just say there’s a reason you don’t have their chats open.

Today is no exception.

Bedwars with viewers, everyone being randomly set into 2v2v2. Tommy’s idea, although he’s lost every round that Techno wasn’t on his team. That was mostly due to you sneak attacking him while he targeted Techno, but still.

“POTATOMAN!” Tommy shouts, practically bursting your eardrums. “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE!”

“Christ, mate.” Phil laughs.

“…my ears…” Techno mourns quietly, making both you and Wilbur laugh.

“We’re getting in! We’re getting in!” Tommy says excitedly, and everyone spawns into their teams.

Your heart sinks when you realize you’re with the viewer on white team. Their character, a potato in a suit, stares at you as you walk backward to collect iron and gold from the generator.

You’ve been lucky up until this far, always getting placed with one of the others. Logically, you knew you’d eventually be placed with the random, but part of you still hoped. Still dared to relax into the game.

Potatoman’s character stands there for a few minutes, and you buy wool with your iron.

“Funnel me the gold, Tommy.” Techno says calmly.

“No! Fuck off! This is my gold!”

“You’re just going to walk off the edge with it!”

“No I won’t! When have I ever?!”

“Last game.” Wilbur inputs.

“Wha— I was pushed! That’s different!”

A message pops up in game chat, and your eyes flick to it for a moment, too busy with building a bed defense. When you realize it isn’t Tommy’s death message (it would’ve been really funny, let’s be honest), you do a double take to read it.

<Potatoman> My luck omg

Your eyebrows raise. For a split second, you dare to hope that the viewer is a fan of yours. That they want to be on a team with you. Hope is a dangerous thing; it just makes things worse when it dies.

<Potatoman> Stuck with the worst member &lt;Potatoman> Not even a member fr lmaooo

Ah. And there it is.

Seeing the messages doesn't hurt; it's the fact that you knew to expect it right from the start.

That's not to say you're even the worst member, because in PvP you're a God. Hell, you and Techno train it all the time for fun! Even Tommy cheers when he gets teamed with you in PvP games like this. Being teamed with you for Bedwars was a pretty good thing, in theory.

Always in theory.

Because somehow, someway, you're never liked enough. Never enough for the viewers in general, even. Too annoying, too loud, too imperfect, too showy, too quiet, too anything. And you know to expect that feedback rather than to expect any semblance of compliments.

"At least the so-called 'worst member' didn't walk off the edge, unlike someone on my team." You quip, targeting your words at the viewer.

"Heh?" Techno asks.

"Oh, uh, nothing-"

"Look in chat." Wilbur interrupts.

There's a pause, then:

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" Tommy screams into his mic. "WHAT THE HELL?!"

"I'm agreeing with the kid here." Techno sighs.

"Actually, we really should talk about how the fans have been online. It's not even a recent thing." Phil says, his calm a stark contrast to Tommy.

"I've seen it a lot too. Let's be clear; everyone here is part of the Sleepy Bois. I made it, I make the rules." Wilbur declares.

"You did not make it!" Tommy protests, but Wilbur doesn't stop for him.

"To make it clear, we won't tolerate any hate of anyone in this group, especially not to the extent that we've been seeing recently."

Your eyes glance over at your chat, already stunned, only to have your jaw slacken when you see that your chat is spamming hearts and "YESYESYES."

"Guys, you don't have to... do this." You try.

"I'm pretty sure we do." Techno deadpans, and you can practically imagine the optifine zoom on his character's face he's probably doing/

"The fans treat you like shit, and we're all tired of it." Wilbur agrees. "It's stupid."

"They're all internet assholes." Tommy chimes in, this time at a reasonable volume.

"So from here on out, anyone who says mean shit to you gets banned. From all of our chats." Your eyes go wide at Phil's words, and you quickly pull up his and Tommy's streams to see what their chats are saying.

But... that can't be right. The outpouring of agreement can't be right. The fans all hate you, you know this. There's no way they're agreeing with Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Wil.

So you open Wilbur's chat, then pull up a YouTube tab for Techno's stream too.

Agreement floods every chat, and for just a moment you can't breathe. You were the supposed forgotten middle child, the one nobody cares to stand up for. But that was wrong, wasn't it?

You are part of the Sleepy Bois, and you're just as deserving as everyone else. Of the fans, of the support, of being able to open chat and not see overwhelming hate.

Of being loved.

[theresthesnitch]

It's about community, y'all.

I’ve found myself recently in a fandom interaction that has left me feeling very uncomfortable, and I want to talk about it. 

I will not be sharing usernames or fic names, so please do not publicly mention who they are if you figure out who this is. 

About a month ago, I was messaged by an account that doesn’t follow me, asking me to read their friend’s fic. The initial message was very flattering–their friend was a big fan of my work, and it would be so nice for them to get a comment from me on it. Honestly, it was such a sweet message, and I said I was busy right then, but I’d make time to read it.

When I opened the fic, it was a username that I didn’t recognize. Which is not terribly surprising, but I do recognize and notice regular commenters and people who regularly interact with me on Tumblr. (Which, by the way, is a good thing. These people all have a special place in my heart, and I love seeing their interactions.) This person also had no other fics published to AO3, and no bookmarks on their account. 

 I am an email hoarder, which means that every comment, kudo, and tumblr follow I get an email notification for is still stored in my email. I searched my inbox for the writer’s username, and nothing came up. I don’t mean nothing significant, I mean not one single comment, kudos, or follow from the account. I searched the account who messaged me, and got the same result. No one single comment, kudo, or follow. 

The thing that may not be immediately obvious from the outside is that many writers connect with each other as well. We share fic recs, snippets, and plot bunnies. We also talk about comments that we love, fans that we enjoy seeing in our notes, and significant interactions. 

Which is to say that the first thing I did was drop this fic with an explanation of what happened into the “fic recs” channel of our discord. Immediately, I find out that this is not a unique situation. Many of the writers in that discord were also approached, either by the actual writer or a friend, and asked to read it. 

I messaged the account again and asked if their friend was operating under a new username because I didn’t recognize them. Which is valid and I know people change their usernames sometimes. The friend responded that they did, but that the friend wouldn’t like them sharing it. I looked into the tumblr that messaged me then, and the account had been set up one singular day before they messaged me, with nothing more than a few art reblogs on their blog. 

At this point, I’m getting a really weird feeling from this, and I decide to just not respond anymore. I’m not going to call them out, but I’m also not going to engage. 

Yesterday, the “friend’s” account sent me another message, asking if I’d read it and telling me again that they can give their friend’s old account name if I really want it. They also mention that their friend read through and commented on a bunch of my older fics–which they did. Between May 24 and June 1, they left 17 comments on some of the very first fics I ever wrote and published. However, the way she tells me this feels very much like a quid pro quo - I commented, now where’s yours? 

I jumped back into the discords of some of my mutuals, and asked about this again. It turns out that all of us have gotten a weird vibe from them, and that this all feels like such a manipulative, creepy way to ask for exposure on your fic. 

And, because I’m me and needed more information, I went back to their fic and looked through the comments and bookmarks. 

There’s an ongoing discussion in many writer’s circles about interactions being lower, particularly comments, which you’ve probably seen crop up around Tumblr as well. While I don’t want to rehash this discussion here, the basic consensus is that most established writers are seeing fewer comments than ever, even when there’s a significant number of kudos. 

This fic has a not insignificant number of kudos, but a surprisingly large amount of comments and bookmarks, comparatively. Enough that just seeing the stats shocked me. I looked through the comments and saw lots of well known fandom writers, as well as some otherwise blank accounts. It strikes me as very odd–especially from a new, blank account and for a one shot without chapters to build up an audience. 

I jumped back in the discord and asked my mutuals about this again. Several people described really weird interactions with this individual. I heard stories about this person being really flattering when they initially reached out, vaguely complimenting the writer, then completely ghosting after the writer comments on their fics. 

I’ve debated for a bit about whether to post on this or not. The entire interaction has left such a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve no doubt that the writer and their friend are the same person, and I suspect some of their comments are fabricated as well. It’s elaborate, to a weird degree, and I feel so uncomfortable by it. 

The thing is, I love talking to people who have read my work. I love getting sent a fic rec. I read so little at this point just due to life and limited time that basically everything I read is something a mutual wrote or something recommended to me. I also really love the “it would mean so much to me if you read this” message, but only if it’s genuine. I have read first fics of new writers who sent me their own work, with their name attached, and asked me to. 

Fandom writing is a community, and that works best when we have a little give and take. But when you’re out there manipulating interactions, building up fake flattery to only not follow through, that breaks down our community. It’s unfortunate, manipulative, and honestly, a bit creepy. 

I don’t know if they just thought we (the writing community) wouldn’t notice, but we did. I’ve talked to other writers about this, and if any of my mutuals had a similar experience, I’d love to hear about it. 

To my “friend” who wrote this fic, I know you’re proud of your fic, but you’re not doing yourself any favors with this behavior. I will not be reading it. I also will not be responding to you or “your friend” any further. I wish you luck, and I hope you find what you’re looking for. 

[latibvles]

So Sad, Beautiful, Tragic has turned a year old today — which is absolutely insane to think about for a plethora of reasons. And I tried to think of things to do, before eventually settling on this celebratory inbox game, and a very simple thank you.

Contrary to its title, this story has brought me… great joy, in the past year. I started it at a considerable low point in my life, mentally. It started as an escape — to think about someone so starkly distant from myself, to make mistakes and have them be forgiven. I wanted a story about forgiveness, about friendship, about resilience.

What I got was a very kind community around me and some very lovely friends who pick me up even unknowingly. Which is honestly more than a girl could ask for.

The last longfic I ever wrote was in 2019, and to this day it remains unfinished on its little corner of the internet. Just twelve chapters of unfinished fanfiction. If you told me a year ago that a story that was never supposed to leave my drafts would end up fifty chapters long, with people who comment regularly on it, who share the same enthusiasm for it that I do? I’d call you insane. But here we are. And I’m happy to be here :)

I do want to thank some specific people though, because where would I be without this community?

@softguarnere , @brassknucklespeirs , @liebgotts-lovergirl and @mercurygray : be it once or like five times, whether it’s a deciding pivotal plot detail , beta-reading, or just trying to name a chapter title , I’ve messaged all of you at one point and you’ve lended me your ear to spitball and find the next turn for the story to take. You’re all lovely friends to have, and when I think of the people who’ve helped this story along the way, you’re the first people that come to mind.

@galaxialuz , @mads-weasley , and @the-cinnamontography-is-amazing : my serial rebloggers / commenters , everytime you all comment on the story or reblog I gain ten years of life. Your reactions are some of the ones I look forward to the most. Seriously, eternally grateful to know how much you love the story, and to those of you who may comment on AO3 who’s users I simply don’t have : this is an acknowledgment for you too! Comments and RBs make the world go around and I’m so thankful for all of mine <3

@almost-a-class-act , @cody-helix02 , @wexhappyxfew , @derry-rain , @shoshiwrites , and @we-band-of-brothers : For letting me bang my pot and my pan, senselessly and loudly, about anything and everything that has to do with this fic of mine. I come strolling into messages going “GUYS BUT DAISY!!!!” and to be met with the same enthusiasm is a really lovely thing. Seriously, for someone who’s been told to, ahem, be quiet about their OCs several times, knowing that I have people who will listen whether it’s an AU I had in mind, a chapter I finished, or mindless rambling is such a gift.

And I am thanking you, person reading this post, for making it this far! Whether you’re a passive reader or one commenting on every chapter or just someone who happened upon this particular post, thanks for giving my words the time of day!

All of this to say: thank you for the support, thank you for the community you’ve let me into, thank you for every bookmark, and like, and reblog, and message. thank you to my anonymous pals and known ones alike — thank you for showing this story the support and love that you have. SBT isn’t perfect, but it is mine, and I’m proud of it, and it means the world to know that something I have created and put into the world is very very loved.

[izacore]

Iza! I know that you don’t talk about HL on your blog anymore, so you don’t have to post this if you don’t want to. But I just wanted to let you know that I’m a newer tarot card reader, and am really just trying to learn all I can. I’ve only been reading for myself and still just trying to figure it all out. But tonight I got a little bit brave and asked a couple questions about Harry and Louis just to do something outside myself to see what I got would get.

I only pulled one card for each. I couldn’t believe it when I pulled The Tower for Louis. In the short time I’ve been reading, I’ve never pulled the tower at all. And here it popped out as the card for Louis. It reminded me so much of how you and Userkant (when she was still here) pulled the tower for him regularly. I just had to tell you. Anyway… I guess it’s still looming out there.

Just out of interest. I also pulled the chariot for Harry. Reversed. Again, I’m not very good at reading yet, but that doesn’t sound very good for him either. If you have some ideas, you want to share and want me to come off anon, I can do that. Otherwise, don’t worry about it, and just let this entertain you a bit! Hope you’re doing well!

hi nonnie! seeing a new message notification actually made me smile so i appreciate you reaching out <3

i haven't read hl in a very long time cause i just can't bring myself to it (and they're much smaller part of my life now) but good to see that nothing has changed with them, at least reading-wise. and well, looking at the state of things it's reflected in reality too. crazy how the tower appears when it comes to them, huh? i remember talking about it with my friends some time ago and wondering why we hadn't seen the tower in action and i think we came to conclusion that maybe it have happened but... in private so naturally we couldn't have noticed it. and i wouldn't be surprised looking at him now, lol, i got some opinions but they're still to harsh for the majority of that fandom so i'll keep my mouth shut. as for harry.... well, do i need to add anything? i just find it funny how for every single person drawing cards for them, the tone of the reading is always the same, as in: depressing, and it's been like that ever since my friend started reading them back in 2021.

actually let me tell you, you had the best timing with this message as for the past week i've been reminiscing and nostalgic about the past, the fun i used to have in that fandom and the love and fierceness hl inspired in me. it sucks that it is what it is now. anyway, i hope you'll have the most fun with your readings, feel free to share anything you want, my inbox is always open <3

[dustinslovehandles]

Story time with ya boy

You know, when I made this blog, I was shaking.

I've got a whole lot of issues, and I've spent my whole life afraid of people. IRL, I spend almost all of my time at home on my own and the only person I see regularly is my mother.

I used to be the same online. For years and years. Loving things, getting into things, and desperately wanting to share that love and excitement. But being too afraid. Too afraid of the judgement, the bullying, the harrassment. Too afraid of being told, one more time, that I was doing it wrong.

There used to be a stereotype about how tumblr is for teenagers when I was in my 20s. When I was a teenager, I saw my peers on here and always wanted to get involved. But I couldn't. Too strange, too many issues, too weird to be in public.

I was in my 20s when I first made a tumblr. I sat quietly and followed people and never said anything. I looked at the fandoms of the things I was into. I yearned. I tried stepping out, eventually. People were nice, but it was just... too much. I felt too old, too different, too unwanted. Rejected in the nicest way possible.

I didn't expect anything different with this blog. I expected to watch the fandom and not be a part of it. But that didn't happen at all. You brought me all in. You messaged me when I reblogged things. You made me feel welcome.

I was so scared the first conversation I got into with one of over DMs. I was so scared I'd mess it up, be found out and rejected as the weird little freak I always seem to be treated as. But you were kind, and you all showed me love. You made me feel, bit by bit, like I belonged here. Like I wasn't just watching the fandom, yearning, but I was involved. I finally took that step and you welcomed me in.

I can't tell you how much it meant to me, that first ask in my inbox. I never thought I'd make friends or that anybody would care. I never thought I'd be able to put myself out there in front of people again.

This whole blog is an experience I never thought possible for myself. And it's given me new hope as to what the ceilings are, what's possible for me. And I got all this from loving some absolute dork of a wrestler.

Like, he'll never see this and he'll never know, but thank you Dustin. Thank you for inspiring me to push past my fear.

I'm not going anywhere, by the way, so don't take this story time to wrong way. I just felt like getting it off my chest how much everything here means to me, and how heart broken I am for my best boy not being able to do his thing anymore. No more pictures to reblog. No more watching AEW, waiting for him to come on.

I love wrestling and I love it here and I'm never leaving those things. I'll carry on loving Greg and Jim just as much as I always have, and I'm sure my heart will heal and I'll be just as excited about new wrestling things in the future.

But yeah, even thought you will never see this, I just wanted to say thank you, Dustin. Thank you so much.

[faceless-conspiracy-buff]

A Bit of an Update

[ Hi everyone! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

Since I haven’t posted anything new in the past... four months? Ish? I thought I’d take a moment to let you all know where things currently stand with regard to my life, this blog and its future.

Fair warning, though: I’ve got a lot to say. ]

[ Let’s start with the obvious: I haven’t posted anything new since December, and even then, I wasn’t posting very regularly.

There are reasons for that. Four big ones, to be precise.

The first (and biggest) of those is my job. I might have mentioned it before, but I started my first full time job last summer. It’s not a fun or fulfilling position and I plan on leaving it as soon as I possibly can, but right now, it’s the only source of income I’ve got. 

It also takes up most of my free time. Back when I was in university, I was able to answer multiple asks each day. Now, I’m lucky if I draft a new post once a week. 

Secondly, this blog has gotten a lot more attention than I ever expected it would.

As I’ve said many times before, I started faceless-conspiracy-buff as a passion project. I just wanted to try my hand at writing Q and maybe respond to a few questions from my friends. I had no idea that I’d end up with nearly three hundred followers. 

And I’m grateful for the attention! It’s really, really flattering to know that so many people are interested in my art and writing. 

But it’s also a little intimidating, which brings me to my third point: I’m trying to prioritize my mental health. 

I’m an anxious person by nature and the past year has been quite rough on me. Maintaining a healthy work-life balance is challenging under the best of circumstances and since my circumstances aren’t the best... I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Things have been slowly improving. I’ve been practicing self-care, spending more time with friends and family, and generally trying to deal with my issues in a healthy way. 

I’ve also been trying to cut out sources of unnecessary stress and, unfortunately, writing for this blog can be quite stressful. 

I want to learn to manage that stress before I dive back into my inbox, y’know?

Finally, I’m working on a couple other projects right now. My dad’s a writer, and his number one piece of advice has always been “make your own stuff”. He understands the appeal of fan fiction, but he has always stressed the importance of having full creative control of your work. 

And while I’d like to think that this version of Vic is uniquely mine, in the same way that Gail Simone’s Barbara Gordon is uniquely hers, I don’t own him. I can’t put any of my asks in my portfolio, or submit my flash fiction for publication. 

I like writing Q, but I think it’s important for me to create original stuff too.

All of this is a long way of saying that there were legitimate reasons for my absence this time around.

I don’t want to abandon this blog. I don’t intend to abandon this blog.

I may eventually decide to throw in the towel, but I don’t plan on leaving without giving my boy a proper send off. 

Q is still a major source of inspiration for me and a huge comfort character to boot. He is, for lack of a better term, blorbo from my shows. I love him.

And I love you. All of you. The mutuals, the strangers. The long-time followers, the newbies. The AIs, and the Riddlers, and the Dannyzens, and the vampire hunters, and all the people who send me in-character messages and delightful fan art.

I love you all.

Working on this blog has been hard, but you guys make it worthwhile.

Expect some kind of... something, in the near future. The issues I mentioned will probably keep me from settling into a schedule, but I’m going to try to put something together for all you kind, patient people. It’s the least I can do. ]

[fishnapple]

Hi! I want to join your game too, please!

Name : Pearl

Something I would be willing to give to you as a gift: A pet bird! Female birds that small, have a bright color, such as canary, love bird or hummingbird. The cage will be made of wood, probably made of teak wood (although actually I do not agree with the idea of caged birds)

Massage to my innerchild/past self: Life's not going to be easy for you. You have a lot of fear, dear. But, you must face them. You must speak your mind outloud or people will make you their personal doormat. When people making fun of you, fight back. Take care of yourself better. Be open to people. Be honest to them and yourself. Work hard, don't waste your time daydreaming. Hit your sister/brother when they wronged you. You're useful. Please don't adopt that pick me ideas from Pinterest, it's embarassing. Also– nope, it's not your fault when mother's died. It's not your childish tantrum that made her died. It's fate. It's simple as that. I love you. Yup... I have a lot of emotional baggage

Thank u for this opportunity!

(To the one who sent this ask, I received your ask in my mail box but couldn't find it in Tumblr inbox so I will repost it here)

Hello Pearl, thank you for the lovely gift, though I don't like the idea of caged animals. I would much prefer to have a bird come visit me regularly 🐦

Your inner child's halo:

The message from your inner child:

Dear you, to my soft and kind companion. I know you have a lot of pain, those that made your heart bleed and your eyes flooded with tears. But believe me, nothing is ever lasting, even though good things may go away someday, bad things will too. I'm strong, much stronger than you imagined, I can clear away anything that is cluttering our mind and heart. Sometimes, you will feel so uncomfortable by my wishes and nudges, yes, I don't decide to do things by myself nor do I demand you, it's your choice to take the decision, I will just stay by yourself to watch over you and give you advice, please listen. I will advise you to throw away many things, things that are no longer serving our growth, our new path, there will be one, you might even have to throw away your ego, your attachments to the past. Use the fire to burn them clean, cauterise the wounds. There are many things waiting for you in the future, you will find that there's not enough space for the new things if unnecessary things are still lying around inside us, make space, something got to give. Don't be afraid, I will share the burden with you all the way through, I won't ask you of anything that you're not capable of.

Be strong. With you always.

Message from your inner child - mini game

[inun4ki]

死/// GUIDELINES.

✾ Mun

hello.!! call me taro. my pronouns are they/them, and i am 21+. i've been roleplaying off and on for many years. my waking life is busy, so i won't always be here. i have 5 pets (no cat-dog fights in this house) and a big family. i prefer writing original characters to canon characters. i live in ye olde us of a. there are two things in this world i can't live without: green tea, hot cheetos, and emotionally wrecked men. oh, and i'm nerdy as hell. if you have any questions or just wanna chat/plot, i'm always open.!!

✾ Blog

Content.

i don’t shy away from disturbing/gory/traumatic topics. i don’t see it as a moral failure to write it. however, i won’t write: minor/adult, graphic noncon, and incest outside of backstories and such. 

all triggering content will be tagged as ’____ /’, and erotic content will be tagged as ‘nsft /’. 

needless to say, this is a 18+ only blog. i will not interact with anyone under the age of 18, 21+ preferably.

the themes i will explore on this blog include suicidal ideation, murder, mass murder, multiple forms of abuse, mental health, personal growth, sacrifice, guilt, death, loss, toxic relationships, and more.

Posting.

all interactions are mutuals only.

i will take my time for serious threads. it may take me a few weeks from time to time to reply to a thread or answer an ask. 

i tend towards multi-para, but will do one-liners or simpler, shorter threads. 

i regularly delete my OOC posts. 

i tend toward inbox memes, so you may see more of those than other things. it's really just because i like to write drabbles most of the time.

Communication.

i’m just a little bit on the awkward & shy side and may have a hard time reaching out for plotting. what i do to mitigate this is generally interact with posts and send in icebreaker asks.

i’ll also reblog plenty of memes, post starter & inbox calls, and my interest check so that there’re always opportunities to get things going.

i love love love to talk about mashing our muses together, so even though it can be hard for me at first, i’m always down to chat

if there's an occasion i don't respond to a message, it's usually because i've fallen asleep, got hella distracted, forgot, am hyperfocused on replies, having health problems, etc. it's never deliberate. please feel free to nudge me.

Shipping. 

i love to ship, honestly. i am always down. if you think our muses would mesh well, by all means - please come yell at me! i probably ship it already anyway.

communication but mostly chemistry are needed for romantic shipping, as kaede is a bit of a pain when it comes to this - he’s only easy sometimes, and really the only way for him to 'love' your muse would be if they're just as obsessed with him as he is them.

there are a couple of things i do not consider shipping right off the bat. flirting isn't shipping. hell, i don't even think our muses boning a couple times is shipping. i don't consider it a ship unless we talk about it, basically.

toxic ships are super welcome! 

i do not ship minor/adult, except platonically as mentor-student or family.

every ship is in its own universe, disconnected from all others, and i do not treat any one ship as more important than another.

Verses. 

this blog is multiverse (working on the page), though jujutsu kaisen will be the primary.

i’m happily oc, crossover, au, and canon friendly, so if you want to do things in a different verse, i’ll make one if i don’t have one already! 

Godmodding. 

so long as we talk about it before hand or it advances the thread, i don’t particularly care about godmodding or powerplaying. it just has to make sense for our plot.  

kaede is strong, but there are others who are stronger - and crueler - and i won’t ignore that if the power scale is such. your muse can overpower mine? dope, they should, actually! besides, he’s a dex build. he’ll put up a good fight, but he’ll probably lose.

Drama/News/Triggers.

i block tags/posts.

if there’s something i don’t want to see, i will simply not see it, no matter what it is, be it the news, internet beef, or things that make me feel like ass for one reason or another. i don’t engage with any of that stuff; i have a personal blog for that sorta thing.

also, i do not have any written triggers & no tumblr post is going to send me down a spiral. i’ve been through a lot, but i’m a ‘power through it’ type, so even if i do see something, it’s ultimately whatever.

Kaede.

this is a small disclaimer.

i’m not caught up to the manga by any means, so there may be some things i don’t know or will get wrong - please let me know if something doesn’t gel quite right. 

please note that i put him together carefully so he wouldn’t interfere much with jjk’s main plot, though i’d be happy to plot something out. 

as kaede will ever be a work in progress, his about page is subject to change. all abilities and techniques are accumulative and an attempt at originality

i will apologize in advance for kaede being a complete brat at times, as he is a bit emotionally stunted and struggles particularly hard with forming solid relationships, be they platonic or otherwise. there's a lot of fear there for him.

Inunaki.

you’ll see mentioned in a few places something called ‘the inunaki incident’. it’s about the mid-point of kaede’s personal storyline, and is a hefty bit of mixed character development i’m saving for a later date - fair warning: i’m a big fan of tragedies. i do have a posted timeline for his life (mostly just summaries), and i will be going over parts of it in the future. ultimately, the plan is to answer the questions: do i have the strength to keep going anyway? is my sacrifice worth the consequence? was this unavoidable, or could i have done something to change it? how much guilt and responsibility can one person assume before it utterly destroys them? i have fun seeing how many different ways i can answer them. 

Credits.

i like to draw, sometimes a lot - but i am notoriously horrendous with most poses, so i end up using/relying on references - which i very ardently do not claim as my own. some poses i reference belong to kate-fox on dA, however i also use personal photographic references (pictures i’ve taken myself), anime/video game screenshots, and, on occasion, porn, as i cannot draw the human body or faces from memory (combined visual processing + memory issue). where i can afford it, however, i do commission artists instead - in fact, i much prefer it. all graphics were arranged by myself; likewise, kaede’s faceclaim belongs strictly to mangaka yanase seno. i also have commissioned art of him done by @okaerin, which serves as my current dash icon! icon borders by @paletterph

[grittyreadsfic]

Hi :)!!! I’m sending this through submission because halfway through writing this via ask I got stressed about the character count and splitting this into multiple asks is not something I have the energy for today.

I’m not in the middle of reading any fics right now (very out of character for me), but a few of my favorite fics this year have been… *sweats and rifles through my ao3 bookmark list because this is really hard to just pick a few*. "body’s in trouble" [Nolan Patrick & Nicklas Backstrom, Nolan Patrick/Travis Konecny] by cloudsandpassingevents, “(break something old) to build something new” [Danny Briere/Claude Giroux] by Lake(beyond_belief), “i might (even know what to say)” [Danny Briere/Claude Giroux] by callabang, “you know you’re a terrible sight but you’ll be just fine” [Jake Guentzel & Knowing Himself, Jake Guentzel & His Brothers, Jake Guentzel/Jared McCann] by heartequals(savvygambols), “little spoon” [Quinn Hughes/Thatcher Demko] by mundanememory, “Your Will In My Hand” [Sidney Crosby/Evegni Malkin/Anna Kasterova] by Sparcck, “Closed Fracture” [Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin] by lightgetsin, “Lean on Me” [Mitch Marner & Matt Martin, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews] by sheyrenawyrsabane, and “Morning to Wake You” [Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin] by oflights.

Oops, that was definitely more than a few. I know for a fact that you’ve read some of those (like “little spoon” for example!!), but I figured I’d send some of my favorites. 

A lot of these are sort of centered on the process of growing up, along being able to acknowledge who you are and be comfortable with it, just because *shrugs* it’s sort of where I’m at right now. I’m 1000% sure you’ve read most of these, but I’m going to tell you why I love them anyways. 

This might be recency bias, but “body’s in trouble” actually took me out, literally mowed over me emotionally. I basically had to write an essay when I commented on it, but if I’m going to try to summarize (which I’m guessing isn’t necessary because it seems like the sort of thing you’d have already read), I LOVED how human the characters were and how genuine their struggles felt. Like, Nolan was trying to figure out how to let himself be happy, and *pained screaming* it was such a raw moment when he started to change his thinking on that and I think the author did such a clear job of getting you into his head and mindset and walking you through it so the moment also felt intensely personal as a reader. 

“Morning to Wake You” is also just so incredible!?!?!?!! I feel like it’s a characterization of Sid that’s somehow simultaneously really consistent with how he’s usually portrayed in fic and also really different. I think one of my favorite things about the fic is that I loved all the relationships in it, not just the main pairing. I absolutely loved the friendship between Colby and Sid, the way Mario was clearly someone with whom Sid felt same and at home but also like an adult, and the little moment between Sid and Tanger. In a fic about growing up and growing into yourself, I thought the development and investment in making those relationships so rich really enhanced the fic because Sid (from the way I read it) was really learning not just how to let himself be human for himself but also let other people witness it. I’m not doing a very good job of articulating why something about this fic feels so unique, but it’s one of my absolute favorites. If guess if I’m trying to summarize, the grey area and realness of the uncertainty combined with the process of figuring out how to grow into yourself but let that growth take root in one’s life really makes this just absolutely wonderful. 

“(break something old) to build something new” makes me unhinged every single time I read, albeit for completely different reasons than “body’s in trouble” or “Morning to Wake You”. I can’t put a finger on what makes me love this fic so much, but I guess in some ways it’s a later in life, less fraught but just as significant story of learning to make space in your life for the things that make you happy/feel like you’re home. It’s not an examination of the question of allowing yourself happiness in the same was that “body’s in trouble” is, but it’s a story that just makes you feel good. I think every reader likes vicariously through characters in fic, so I think this is what I read when I’m craving that comfort of belonging, home, and family. Danny has a good thing, and it’s a story of him realizing that and then actualizing it. By putting Danny both at a time when he’s so established and secure in his life yet still at a crossroads, it makes him think about what he has and what he wants. It takes him longer for him to be able to articulate what it is he wants than it does for the reader, but that’s the journey (that sort of makes it feel like it’s drawn out–it’s not, it’s more of a Danny just has to think about it before he figure it out). I also love the way the author wrote the supporting characters on this one!!!! I think it just really adds dimension to the story and is the first thing that really cultivates this atmosphere of family that’s woven through the fic, right there for when Danny finally sees it. (In regards to supporting characters, I’m so overly invested in the storyline between Cameron Briere and his bio lab partner in which he finds his first non-hockey friend.)

Anyways, I hope you’re having a great day/morning/evening!!!! I really enjoy reading your fic recs and I also really enjoyed spewing out an.. oops… eight paragraph ask :) 

okay HELLO i tried to format this in the way the made the differentiation between the post submitted by @kingdom-of-the-shades and my response clear but uhhhhhh if i didn’t do a good job lmk and i’ll edit the post. i also tried to hyperlink all  the fics you mentioned for ease of finding for anyone interested!

i do see a common theme in these fics based off what i’ve read the and descriptions of the rest (i’ve read half of them though i did immediately read the callabang fic when i went to grab the link because it was very much my shit and i love ao3 user callabang’s writing)

also you really called my out about body’s in trouble because i literally waws scrolling through the hockey rpf tag like the sunday paper and fully had to tweet about the tags because it was very much my kind of fic. absolutely back what you’re saying about it, because i agree completely. feeling very feral about the scene were nolan takes nicke fishing because it’s such a full circle moment (nolan putting what nicke’s taught him into practice AND using it to help nicke when he’s going through it? fucking......GOD)

i haven’t read the other two you called out specifically  but you making a compelling argument for both of them (probably gonna read that danny/claude fic sooner rather than later because i absolutely ADORE fics where the supporting characters add to the fic) 

[thefirsttree]

A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind…  I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

[bluejay-writes]

I Thought I'd Lost You - Chapter 1/14

You can also read this on Ao3!

Fandom: Blooming Panic Rating: Mature Pairings: Quest/MC(OC?) Updates: Regularly. At least daily. As often as I can get things formatted and posted. Important Notes: Spoilers for Quest's Route. Half of this is a chatfic. Summary/Blurb to get you sucked in:

Seraphina thought moving across the country and changing her looks would keep her problematic ex off her case. Staying under the radar should be easy. Besides, what could happen on a tiny fan server for a webnovel, anyway?

Quest thought he'd left his old life behind. While that meant leaving his first love behind as well, he thought that was a fair trade for her safety. Little did he know they'd meet again on the tiny fan server he moderated. Or that the rest of his past would be right on her heels.

“Sera, can you take the trash?” her manager called to her, and she sighed. Of course she got to drag the last, heaviest, bag of trash out back to the dumpster. One more week of this hell and she’d be working her dream job in the city. She hefted the black plastic bag over the rim of the dumpster, the sound of a thud and breaking glass the usual accompaniments to the late night trash drop.

She turned, a shadowy form by the doorway catching her attention. For a moment, she thought her eyes were deceiving her.

“Quest?” she asked, but knew immediately that she was wrong. Quest was gone.

“No, baby, your knight in shining armor is never coming back.” The voice said. 

“Trent?!” She said, backing up a few steps. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get what’s mine.”

“Trent. I broke up with you a month ago, what the fuck?”

“You thought you could get rid of me that easily?”

The man in the shadows advanced on her.

Seraphina sat straight up in her bed, her heart pounding so loud she could hear it.

“Fuck.” She said, one hand to her chest as she stood and went to get a glass of water.

There’s no way I’m getting back to sleep anytime soon. Maybe I can catch up on Blooming Panic before I go back to sleep. Ugh. So much for getting an early night for once.

Lola was sure everyone in the building could hear her heart pounding as she yanked the blinds shut.

“Mood.” Sera muttered, sipping her water, wishing for not the first time that it was something harder.

She briefly considered calling Xander, but stopped short of picking up her phone. No, this was something she would have to go through alone.

“As usual, poor Lola baby. All those hotties, and no one to hold you through the rough parts.”

As the shocks rattled through her body, all Lola could do was panic. Was she going to change in a way she liked? Would Xander still like her? Would she become a completely different person? Like it or not, Lola was about to find out. She sat down on her bed and took a deep breath. “Lola 2.0 here I come…”

Sera wiped the tear that was trying to escape from the corner of her eye. These chapters always hit her so hard, probably because they were hitting closer and closer to home the longer the story went on. That was another chapter done. She couldn’t help but feel like she was getting close to the end of the story. The next chapter would probably be the last one. Three entire years of a story, and it was about to end. Sera sighed. She was almost more awake now than she was before reading that. Next to her on the desk, her phone buzzed. A quick glance told her that her boss wanted her in the office at 5am.

“Seriously, Ned? Seriously? Ugh! If I hadn’t had that nightmare I’d have been asleep already and my alarm doesn’t go off until 6!”

Sera decided not to respond to the idiot. Let him sweat whether she’d show up on time and bail his ass out of whatever problem it was. Of course she would, but he deserved to worry about it. Tomorrow morning was already going to be full of reports, number crunching, and unavoidable meetings. Now, she’d be lucky to sneak in a cup of coffee.

Scrolling tumblr digging for any new Bloomic fanfic, a message popped into Sera’s inbox.

Anon: Come join the Bloomic Fan Server! [Discord Invite Link]

Sera looked at the link. It was probably spam. There were no Bloomic fan servers or forums or anything. She knew. She’d looked. Extensively. It looked like a download for a completely different program, but… the chance to connect with other Bloomic fans… Sera clicked the link. Tomorrow was already going to suck. Today… today was for her. Even if that meant fending off a computer virus from a bad decision, at least it was her own damn decision.

The program downloaded with no issues, and looked like a specially branded discord server.

After setting up her username and some role things about pronouns, Sera was dumped into the server where people were chatting.

BloomBot: SixOfCoins has joined the server. —SixOfCoins is now online— xyx: why would i lie to you  xyx: i have literally never lied in my life nightowl: LOL onionthief: salo… BIGLADY: >_<;; salociN: What ? onionthief: Do you honestly believe onionthief: that onionthief: you can get to a ‘secret internet’ onionthief: by plugging your router into the phone jack? salociN: Have you tried it …? onionthief:  onionthief: No! xyx: see xyx: he doesnt even know what hes talking about Quest: everyone, please Quest: we have a new member BIGLADY:  BIGLADY: wha!!! o/ two2: oh shit nightowl: welcome!! salociN: Hello! June: welcome! <3 SixOfCoins: Hello, everyone! Quest: hello and welcome, @SixOfCoins salociN: Wonderful to have a new person around :) Quest: let me know if anyone gives you a hard time Quest: we want you to feel comfortable here! June: yeye BIGLADY: mhm mhm

Sera blinked. 

“Let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.” he’d said. Sera’s mind drifted to a time when another person, a different Quest, had pulled her aside at the bar to say those exact words.

What if he’s not a different Quest though? her traitorous heart suggested, but she squashed that thought flat. Quest was gone, as if her nightmare wasn’t enough to remind her of that, thanks.

two2: mmmmm SixOfCoins two2: do u want us to call u Six, or Coins, or…? SixOfCoins: Six to one, half dozen to the other, lol BIGLADY: omg nightowl: LOL SixOfCoins: Just call me Six. June: okay!! Six it is!! Quest: does everyone want to introduce themselves? nightowl: ME! onionthief: Hello, I’m onion. I’m a university student. xyx: bland nightowl: i’m NIGHTOWL! and i’m a university student as well!! nightowl:  nightowl:  SixOfCoins: Hm, alright!  SixOfCoins: nightowl clearly typed his username with capslock on the first time… SixOfCoins: don’t know why it’s all lowercase. BIGLADY knows where it’s at.  xyx: LMFAO two2: i’m ALMOST a university student two2: almost,,,,, BIGLADY: i do know where it’s at! BIGLADY: XD i used to be a university student!! look at all of us ~ xyx: this server is too educated Quest: xyx… June: hello helloooo, i’m June <3 June: I’m probably the biggest blooming panic super fan. nightowl: sdjfkghkf nightowl: it’s true!! Quest: ha Quest: who’s left - me and salociN? nightowl: AND XYX xyx: lol u wish xyx: hello i am xyx SixOfCoins: i can see that! hi!! xyx: oh u can? xyx: ur very cool, Six Quest: lol see, why bother trying xyx: hello I am xyx and i enjoy money Quest: god… June: sorry, @SixOfCoins, he’s always like this. SixOfCoins: Well, I am ostensibly coins, a type of money, so I think we’ll get along fine. xyx: lol right okay onionthief: It’s quite annoying two2: hey remember that jail role he used to have nightowl: OH YEAH xyx: wait nightowl: JAIL JAIL JAIL xyx: ON WHAT GROUNDS Quest: pls Quest: xyx, we’re trying to greet someone new xyx: i AM greeting her????????? Quest: sigh xyx [Jail]: i will not forget this injustice Quest: uh huh salociN: Introductions? nightowl: YA!! salociN: You can call me salo. I have a lovely wife that I dote after and I’m enjoying my retirement. June: salo is the best <3 June: now you, Quest! Quest: lmao Quest: I’m the server moderator - let me know if you run into any issues with these people xyx [Jail]: ‘these people’ wow Quest: you deserve it June: wait if we’re going to be posting face pics, does anyone have that really old one of quest? two2: huh? xyx [Jail]: ohhhhh baby xyx [Jail]: sec Quest: wait what picture xyx [Jail]: 

Sera backed up from her computer so hard, her chair fell backwards, and if it weren’t for the fact that her apartment was tiny and she hit her bed, she’d likely have fallen flat on her back and smacked her head into the floor.

Quest was Quest. QUEST IS QUEST.

Somewhere behind all of her panic, her heart was swimming in a pool of “I told you so” which it deserved, but Sera was too stunned. How could Quest be here? He read Bloomic? Long enough to be a moderator on a server?! Moreover, he was fine? He seemed to at least be happy in that photo, which was definitely more recent than… the incident, so…

Sera looked back at the screen, and at her phone, and at the screen, and out the window and… She should probably log out for tonight. Right? Right??

Quest: oh no nightowl: OH LOL nightowl: WASN’T THIS FROM A DRINKING NIGHT Quest: i can’t believe you saved that xyx: 

Shit. She had to say something about the photo before she left, or else he’d know his photo affected her, and… no, she just.. ugh. Honesty. Brutal honesty.

SixOfCoins: You look like a happy drunk! lol SixOfCoins: Definite moderator material. Quest:  Quest: sure lmao SixOfCoins: I have to run, just found out I have to be at work in 6 hours, and… yeah. —SixOfCoins is now offline—

Sera flopped onto her bed, her brain and heart and everything a mess. First the nightmare about Trent, then a random server, and now Quest is actually Quest? Despite her thoughts, her body was exhausted, especially after the near fall and the concussion she definitely didn’t get thanks to her bed, and she slipped into sleep.

[jaskiersvalley]

🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼

This has been in my inbox for quite a while so I really hope you're still in the fandom XD As thank you for your kind message here is something really rather silly.

It had all started out with the stupid raccoon that rifled through Jaskier's bins. The mess it left behind was unbelievable, like a small, localised tornado had been by, specifically over Jaskier's bins. No matter what he did, how he weighed down the lids, there was a mess every morning. At first Jaskier tried to be more conscious of what he threw away, less food in the bins, even ate more healthily because the raccoon seemed more interested in sweet things most nights. Except for the time it seemed to go absolutely feral with the tiny styrofoam shapes from a delivery Jaskier had. When nothing else worked, Jaskier got locks on his bins. However, his raccoon must have been working out because the locks were forced off his bins and the jumper he'd put in the bin because of a hole in the elbow had disappeared. That was when Jaskier decided to invest in a wildlife camera, this was a raccoon he needed to see.

Setting it up, Jaskier did feel a little foolish. It wasn’t like the raccoon came by every night and this time he really wanted to see it. The plan was to catch it with the net he’d invested in and relocate the little bastard somewhere that wasn’t his bins. To make sure he got the raccoon on camera, Jaskier set out a couple of honey drenched pastries to lure it in.

Sleep was difficult, Jaskier wanted to watch the camera but he was an adult and knew he needed to sleep. With great difficulty, he managed to get some rest and even succeeded in going in to teach rather than call in sick so he could watch his tape. Instead, he invited Valdo over to watch with him, knowing that his claims of a muscly raccoon would never be believed.

“Right, drinks, wine?” He asked, already grabbing a bottle and two glasses.

“I’ll order the pizza I guess,” Valdo replied, resignedly pulling his phone out. “Your usual?”

“Darling, I’m providing booze and entertainment in my home, you know the least you can do is buy me pizza.”

It was a tradition of sorts, Jaskier hated Valdo’s place, finding it too drab and grey. It didn’t matter that Valdo had magazine to prove that it was the latest fashion. And the bastard had the gall to say Jaskier was the one who pandered to the masses.

Now, they had wine in hand, the TV on and playing. Jaskier had to admit, it was pretty boring.

“Oh look, a moth,” Valdo drawled, sipping at his wine. “Maybe it flaps its wings so hard it messes with your bins.”

“Shut up.” The wine was disappearing at a steady rate and both their cheeks were getting rosy. Perhaps alcohol before food had been a rather unwise idea. “Here, I’ll speed it up until something comes along.” And something had to, the pastries were gone by the morning. They watched as moths, the odd cat and rat scuttled by.

“There!” Valdo yelled and pointed at the screen. As quickly as he could, Jaskier slowed it back down. They leaned forwards as one, seeing something large and dark move in the corner of the screen. Suddenly the darkness became a blur and both of them screamed, clutching at each other. A man stepped up to the pastries, hunching over the plate and stuffing them in his mouth at an impressive rate.

Just as they were over the shock, the man looked up. His eyes, like a cat, reflected the light as he looked at the camera, head tilted. Once again, Jaskier and Valdo screamed, leaping towards each other for protection, wine sloshing everywhere. It seemed the man had no idea what the camera was, giving it a good, long look before turning to have a rummage in the bins.

“That’s a really big fucking raccoon,” Valdo whimpered and Jaskier smacked him on the arm. “You’re going to need a bigger net.”

Laughing nervously, Jaskier shook his head. He didn’t know what to make of it, a large, long haired man with scary eyes had made a habit of rifling through his rubbish.

“Sleepover,” he declared. “You’re staying here. And we’re putting more food out.”

“You don’t want to encourage him! What if he’s, you know-” Valdo broke off, “-a vampire.”

“They’re not seen on films and their eyes don’t do that. Could be a shifter.”

“Sasquatch’s freaky cousin.”

“An eldritch horror!”

“A cryptid!” That actually seemed to fit. Still, cryptids needed feeding, Jaskier was not going to be mean. So far, other than his bins, nothing untoward had happened. “I’ll leave him some pizza.”

Drinking, Jaskier decided, was definitely not his best idea. He groaned as he sat up, Valdo snoring away next to him. He remembered most of their previous night and cursed; they didn’t just leave pizza, they left a note too.

Dear Mr. Cryptid, Please don’t eat us, eat the pizza instead. Love, Valskier

Rushing out, Jaskier saw that the pizza was gone, the note was crumpled on the ground and there was a bite missing from it. At least he now knew the shape of the cryptid’s bite.

“Wake up!” He poked Valdo in the side. “We need to watch this before work.”

It was the right choice. Jaskier spent the rest of the day thinking about the strange man with the even stranger eyes inspecting the pizza, giving it a sniff while the note was on top of it. And taking a large bite out of it all. While the pizza was given a second and third bite, the note had been inspected, given a lick before being cast aside. The camera also gave them a very good view of the man, bulging arm muscles, long, probably white or blonde hair. In short, Jaskier was fucked. He bought a whole cake and left it out that night.

The strange cryptid began to show up more regularly but at least he stopped making a mess of the bins. Jaskier tried leaving a few more notes but, after watching the man squint at the note before trying to take a bite out of each and every single one, he gave up.

“What’s the latest on your cryptid?” Valdo asked in the staff room. Rather than reply, Jaskier pulled his phone from his pocket and hit play on the video.

This time, it wasn’t his usual long haired cryptid man. Instead, it was two others with the same creepy eyes, scurrying past, snagging the hot dogs Jaskier had left out and shoving the bins over for good measure as they ran. His usual cryptid didn’t show up that night.

“I told you!” Valdo screeched, earning a few scathing looks. “You feed one and more come along.”

The following night, Jaskier put out more food, hoping it would be enough for everyone. He was almost scared to watch the footage the next day but was so glad he did. All three of the cryptids lingered near the camera, eyes flashing. However, Jaskier’s blood chilled when he spotted another pair of eyes in the background, watching but not approaching.

Looking back on the videos, he was appalled to find that an extra pair of glowing eyes was often in the background. Maybe it was a mate or a very shy cryptid. Either way, Jaskier wanted to see.

“Oh. It’s an injured one!” Jaskier breathed, appalled. He had upgraded his camera and had managed to turn the contrast up enough to make out a face. In a way, he almost wished he hadn’t because the sight was so terrible. The shy cryptid was scarred beyond belief, lip caught in a permanent snarl. He seemed the most distrustful of the camera, never approaching. But, once, Jaskier watched as a hand reached in front of the camera, snagged the sugar laden jelly pot and the camera was knocked askew. Just about visible after a few minutes was a broad back in a striped and spiked coat as it retreated. From then on, Jaskier made sure to leave soft foods out too.

“Didn’t you say your raccoon had a field day with styrofoam pellets?” Valdo asked. The school had taken a delivery of biology samples which arrived in boxes filled with the stuff. Together, Jaskier and Valdo poured as much of the pellets into a box as they could and they were left out alongside the offering of food.

That night, Valdo stayed over and neither of them slept. Instead, the TV showed the camera’s feed. It was about 3am, both of them were drooping when there was movement.

“Look!” Jaskier nudged Valdo who woke with a snort. On the screen, the original, long haired cryptid had a hand clasped around the wrist of the injured one and was dragging him into view. Behind them were the other two Jaskier had seen before. He gasped, “They’re a family, aren’t they?”

“They’re something alright. Maybe it’s cryptid double date night?”

Fascinated, they watched as the four of them inspected the box. It was the smallest of the lot, one of the two Jaskier had only ever seen together that stepped into the box, hands digging into the pellets. The grin on his face spoke volumes. The other once jumped in too, the two of them beginning to wrestled for who got to sit in the box. All while, the pellets were tumbling out, making the original cryptid and the scarred one hop back. They stared at the styrofoam like it had personally offended them. Without sound there was no way to hear it but Jaskier was convinced they hissed at it. Hesitantly, the scarred one picked up a couple and, without and warning, threw it in the air. They all darted away from it, glaring as it dropped. Once again, the smallest crept closer, darting in to pick up a handful and toss it into the air, sending them scattering again. However, when the styrofoam didn’t attack, he got braver, his mate stepping closer too. All too soon, they were all tossing handfuls of sytrofoam in the air and running around. It was all fun and games until the larger of the pair picked up the box and tossed it. The scarred one caught it but staggered and crashed into the bins.

Jaskier jumped as the clatter of his bins falling over rudely reminded him of just how close the cryptids were. It felt much more distant when they were just on his TV. Tense, he clutched at Valdo’s sweaty hand and they watched as the cryptids ran away from the scene. The next morning, Jaskier had so much styrofoam to clean up, he regetted ever listening to Valdo.

Now that he knew that the cryptids could play, Jaskier decided that they were probably intelligent beings, it was a simple matter of finding a way to communicated.

“I’ve written a will, told my parents I love them and cleared my internet browsing history,” he told Valdo. “If anything happens, you know which box in the bedroom to burn, right?”

“You crazy bastard, don’t go out there!”

Jaskier held aloft the tray of foods, trying to look self assured. “I have new friends to meet. Wish me luck.”

With that, he marched out, ready to settle in for a long wait, confident that Valdo would keep an eye on him via the camera. As he’d said, he had new friends to meet, he just hoped they wanted to meet him too.

[olivereliocorcordium1983]

Okay the only reason I am going to being this up is because I got a message about it. In my inbox today and this isn't to call anyone out or anything of the nature.

I keep getting asked to update the CP(cerebral palsy story) which is funny because when I first started writing it I didn't think people would like it. Especially with it dealing with bits and pieces of my own life and things I've personally gone through and live with, so it does mean the world to me that you guys do love this story.

However, I am in the process of getting things ready to go to Concan and getting things ready to move. So it is going to be awhile but i will be writing the chapters on the way and while I am there.

I will post them after I move into my new place and get things settled. But to be completely specific I have until the end of june to be out of the house and to get the house back the way it was when I first moved in.

Then I am going to put myself on a schedule so I can start to post regularly and to get myself organized cuz I am horrible about time management.

But I cross my heart and will see to it that story gets finished so you all can read more of it. There is still so much more story to tell with that one. ❤️

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

When We Went From Friends to This - a. beauvillier

One day late, but here it is! I’ve been studying for the LSAT, but finally took it today, so I’ll have some more time to be writing more regularly now. Title is from Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings. I loved getting to write this, so please please let me know what you think, my inbox is always open! Reading the tags is one of my favorite things to do, and reblogs help me know people are liking my work.

word count: 7.7k+

September 18 (sat)

Astride Leclair was the kind of person you always wanted on your side. She’d drop anything for a friend, always be the first to reach out, and would never give up on something — or someone — without a fight. She was also incredibly stubborn. Astride had also always had a penchant for adventure, which is how she found herself in a new job 600 miles and one international border from her hometown. And she hated asking for help, it really didn’t matter the circumstance. Which is how she found herself alone, trying to heft an armchair up the stairs of her new apartment building after being very rudely informed by the width of the elevator door that it wasn’t going to fit. 

The lump sum her firm gave her for relocation was enough to cover a fair amount of the furniture for her new place and she tried to bring as much as she could on the drive down, but it wasn’t like she was about to rent a U-Haul and there was only so much a Honda Civic could hold. And Astride was still her father’s daughter, still would rather step on a rusty nail than pay Ikea for assembly, so by God she was going to do it herself. And “doing it herself” apparently meant dragging an 80 pound box up three flights of stairs in 90º heat in September, when New York City seemed to have not quite yet gotten the memo that the rest of the Northern Hemisphere was now in fall. 

Astride finally managed to get the chair in the door, propping the door open with one of her moving boxes, unceremoniously pulling the box through the entryway as she scooted backwards into the living room. The 600 square foot expanse of her apartment was covered in boxes, more boxes, and for good measure, extra boxes. There were moving boxes, furniture boxes, shoeboxes filled with anything except for actual shoes. There was her guitar leaning against the microwave, three suitcases worth of clothes in the barely-assembled bedroom, and her dog in a crate in the corner, who had started to whine. 

“I know, baby, I’ll get you out soon,” Astride said, shooting a sympathetic glance towards the beagle mix. She had adopted Poutine a little over a year ago, soon after starting her first job out of university. It was never a question whether or not she would make the trip with Astride, and thankfully it was much easier than she anticipated to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn. It wasn’t too long a walk to Prospect Park, a little under a mile, and she was looking forward to getting out with Poutine later in the day. If, that was, she actually finished unpacking enough boxes to function like a normal human being. She had picked up her mattress-in-a-box earlier in the day, but it was still sitting in the corner of her bedroom and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on the hardwood floor. 

---

Three hours later, Astride had finally gotten all of the boxes out of her car and began to make decent headway on assembling the chair, finally having let Poutine out of her crate. The beagle trotted around the apartment, sniffing the baseboards, boxes, and single bag of groceries Astride had picked up from Whole Foods earlier in the day. The rest of her Ikea order was coming the next day, the actual bedframe and couch along with a couple of other larger furniture pieces that she had had to leave in Montréal. Whatever she couldn’t order online she’d find at a thrift store. 

Astride looked tiredly over at the kitchen. She really wasn’t in the mood to cook, and was in even less of a mood to dig through all the boxes until she finally found her set of pots and pans. She really should have taken her mom’s advice and labeled everything, but Astride was stubborn as a mule, and once she was stuck in her ways, there was precious little anyone could do to convince her otherwise. Pulling out her phone, she navigated to her Uber Eats, feeling a tiny pang in her heart as she switched her location to New York. Not the language, though. Astride was so hungry that she literally clicked on whatever place could get there the fastest, which ended up being a Chinese place a mile or so away. After placing her order — she got an extra box of chow mein so she wouldn’t have to deal with breakfast the next day — she settled back into the hair, the only fully-assembled piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Her finger hovered over her Instagram for a moment before she clicked on it, liking a few photos before going to post one of her own. It was a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge as she crossed it that morning, Poutine’s head lolling out the front window. One tap and one caption later, it was posted. 

---

Anthony flopped onto his bed, his duffel landing with a satisfying thump on the floor beside him. Training camp had just ended, and while he’d certainly been keeping up on his workouts over the summer, the hours upon hours of skating had nevertheless made him more than a little sore. He grabbed his phone, opening up Instagram and scrolling through the new posts, only half paying attention. Astride’s new photo caught his eye.

Sometimes, needing a change means a new haircut. Sometimes, it means a new country. Very excited to start this next chapter in my life. Salut, New York! Anthony quickly clicked onto her profile page and read her bio. International economics analyst. Eating my way through the world one pancake at a time. BCom McGill. MTL-NYC. He read the last line over and over again. MTL-NYC. He swiped back to the photo; she had tagged herself in Brooklyn. Brooklyn. She was less than an hour away, not even thirty if the traffic wasn’t bad. But she hadn’t told him, she hadn’t said anything. Anthony felt a pang in his heart. Astride knew who he played for — obviously — and she knew that of course he’d want to see her any time they were even remotely in the same place. She knew that. Right? 

He spent the next twenty minutes typing out a message to her. Then deleting it. Then retyping it. Then continuing the type-delete-retype cycle until his head was spinning. This was his best friend. Why was he so nervous to talk to her? Because she was his best friend, and as much as he hated to admit it, he really wasn’t sure where they stood. He hadn’t been sure for a long time. Hey Asty! He internally cringed at himself at the use of her old nickname. I saw you moved to New York, that’s amazing! I’m over on Long Island, so I’d love to catch up with you for coffee or something when you get a chance. It’s been too long :) 

It might have been a little petty — scratch that, it definitely was petty — but Astride didn’t respond to his text that night. She didn’t have read receipts on, thank God, but it sat in her messages, without response, like something she was too scared to confront. And she didn’t even know why. Okay, fine, she knew exactly why. She had moved and suddenly they were in the same city for the first time since they were kids and he was, had been, her best friend, but why now of all times? It’s not like he was never in Montréal during the year, or like they couldn’t have committed to a weekly FaceTime or something, or at least texted more than once a month. He could have done something. And that something, that lack of a something, was what kept her from responding until the next morning, tapping out a text as she halfheartedly made her way through a bowl of oatmeal. Hi, Tito, just saw your text! Lie. I did, an opportunity for a transfer came up and I decided to take it. I figured you were pretty close by, so it would be great to catch up. I don’t start at the office for a week, if you’re free any time between now and then. That much was true. She wasn’t stupid, she knew the Islanders played on, well, Long Island, and as much as she wanted to still hold a grudge against him, her heart ached at the prospect of finally being able to see him again. 

Anthony responded almost instantly, Astride having just closed the door to the dishwasher — a luxury in New York, she was told — before seeing her phone light up with the telltale bubble. I’d love to, we just finished up training camp so I’m more or less free aside from practices. A second later. Is brunch still your favorite meal?

Astride laughed. It didn’t surprise her that he remembered, but it was still touching to see him say something about it. It is.

How about Tuesday? I’ll send you the directions. It’s this little café in Flatbush, I think you’ll love it. 

I’m counting on it. 

September 26 (sun)

Brunch had turned into dinner, which had turned into going to a Broadway show — Anthony had insisted the moment she told him she’d never been — which had turned into him coming over for Saturday night movies, an old habit of the pair’s from their days back in Québec. Which had turned into two movies and two bottles of wine, which had turned into Tito sleeping over on the couch instead of driving the thirty-odd minutes back to his apartment. Poutine sniffed him curiously, nudging one hand with her head. Astride stifled a giggle, opening the door to the balcony. “He’s very sleepy, Poutine. It’s not good manners to wake up your guests.”

“Even when they fall asleep on your couch and steal all your blankets?” Anthony said sleepily from behind. 

Astride wheeled around, greeted by a half-awake Anthony Beauvillier, who was indeed bundled in all of the blankets she owned that weren’t actively on her bed. “Tito! Oh my God, you scared me. How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged. “Not bad, about as well as can be expected.” He tapped his phone, cursing when he realized it was dead. “Do you know what time it is?”

She glanced down at her watch. “8:52, why?”

Anthony jumped up, throwing his shirt back on and grabbing his still-dead phone. “I’m supposed to meet Mat for breakfast at 9:30, and the place is,” he paused for a moment, running through the grid system in his head, “probably half an hour away? I’m never the late one, can’t break that streak now.” 

“Gotcha.”

He grabbed his keys, looking back at her. “Why don’t you come? You’re already dressed, and you remember Mat, right?”

She wiggled her hand. “Kind of?” She crossed the room, letting Poutine back in. “You only want me for my charged phone and navigation system.”

“You got me,” he said, laughing. 

---

“You named your dog Poutine?” Mat snickered, taking a bite of his eggs. 

“Would you rather I named him Tim Horton?” Astride deadpanned. “He’s a good Canadian boy with a good Canadian mom. He needed a good Canadian name.” 

Mat raised his coffee mug, tilting it over towards her. “Touché.”

Anthony waved his hand in front of Mat’s face, trying to catch his attention from where he was utterly preoccupied with destroying his sourdough toast. “Hey, Mat.”

“Mmm?” He glanced up. 

“Did you know that Astride lives right by Barclays? Like, right by Barclays?” 

His eyebrows rose. “No way?” Astride nodded. “That’s a great area, would have been awesome if you were here a couple of years ago. Short walk to the games.”

“That’s what I told her yesterday,” Tito responded. 

---

“You’re kidding,” Anthony said, looking up at her building, then across the street to Barclays, then back to Astride, one hand tangling through his hair. “We used to play right across from here.” 

Astride laughed. “I thought about that,” she said. “You know I still watched your games, right? Even after we fell out of touch?” Anthony shook his head. “You were still someone I cared about, are still someone I care about, even when we only talked a few times a year.” 

Beau stood there, unable to formulate a complete sentence. As far as he knew, the last Islanders game she watched had been the 2016 opener, his NHL debut and her first year at McGill. Why did he assume that? Why did he assume the worst? You can care about people even when they’re not in your life anymore. And sometimes, if you get really, really lucky, they come back. 

October 9 (sat) 

“Ebs is having a barbeque thing over at his house this weekend, just stuff to celebrate the beginning of the season if you wanted to come. No pressure if you’ve got plans already, though,” Anthony said over the FaceTime. 

Astride nodded enthusiastically. “That sounds great, I’d love to come! Just let me know when to show up and what to bring, and I’ll be there.”

 It was almost a fifty-minute drive for Astride from her apartment in Prospect Heights to the house in Garden City, but there wasn’t too much traffic and besides, she had always liked driving. So she set off in her Civic, plugged her music in, and headed down 495. Anthony met her outside of the house, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as he cocked his head towards the backyard. “Party’s this way. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.” 

Astride dutifully followed, trying not to let her nerves take hold of her. Everyone might have already been Beau’s friends, but she didn’t know them, or the dynamic of everyone’s relationships, or really, what to expect at all. 

He noticed her apprehension, stopping her with a feather-light touch on her arm just before walking through the back gate. “Hey, Asty. What is it?” 

She let out a little huff, still upset that he could read her like a book even after all this time. “I’m just worried that I’ll feel like I’m intruding on everything, like everyone already has their friends and a group and everything, and here comes some random Québécoise who’s a friend of Tito’s—” 

He laughed, turning her around to face him. “Astride, they’re going to love you. As long as you’re the hilarious, witty, caring person I know you are, they’re going to love you as much as I do, and you’re going to fit in just fine. Do you trust me?” 

She gave a tiny nod. “Yeah.” 

He smiled, squeezing her hand. “Good, now come back, everyone’s waiting.” 

They walked through the gate, greeted by a crowd of smiling faces as Anthony brought her around to everyone to make their rounds. There was Anders, he was the captain, and his wife. There was Jordan and Lauren, and she already knew Mat, and JGP — who was excited to have another person to speak French to — and a dozen or so others, along with their respective partners and children. Anthony had gone over to talk to Mat and some of the other players, while Astride had wandered over to the drinks table. Some of the other women were chatting nearby; one of them caught Astride’s eye and waved her over to join them. 

“Beau didn’t tell us he was bringing anyone!” one of the women said, pulling her over to the group with a bright smile and handing her a glass of sangria. 

“Mhm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink. “I’m new to the city, obviously, so I think he wanted me to have some people I know outside of just work.” 

They all nodded. “How long have you two been together, though?” another asked. “I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone, did you?” She looked around at the others, who shook their heads as Astride’s eyes bulged. 

“Together? No, no, we’re not together. We’ve been best friends for ages, but,” she shook her head. 

“Could have fooled me,” Lauren said with the smallest of winks. 

Astride suddenly became very interested in the floating berries in her sangria. She looked over at Anthony, who was throwing his head back, laughing at something one of the rookies had said, and smiled. But Lauren’s words kept lingering in the back of her mind. Could have fooled me. Okay, it wasn’t like it was the first time they had been mistaken for a couple; whenever she’d make the trip up to Shawingan to visit him when he was in the QMJHL, more than once she’d have to explain to his teammates that no, she wasn’t Beau’s girlfriend, they were just best friends who had known each other forever. Just best friends. 

Astride had always equated her lingering feelings for Anthony to the nostalgia of a childhood crush, the safety and security that came with remembering something from a time that seemed so simple and so easy. But childhood crushes didn’t last for ten years. And that wasn’t something she hadn’t wanted to come to terms with, something she’d been putting off for years if she was being honest with herself. 

“You didn’t tell me Astride was coming,” Mat commented, seeing her mid-laugh in conversation with the other girls. 

Anthony nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t have any plans for the weekend and I thought it would be nice to introduce her to everyone. I remember how shitty it felt to be in a new city away from your family, don’t want her to be lonely. Plus, I genuinely think she’ll fit in great with everyone.” 

Mat hummed his agreement. “She’s changed since Switzerland, don’t you think?” he asked appreciatively, referring to over five years ago, the last time he had seen her in person.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beau mumbled to Mat, seeing his eyebrows go so far up they were hidden in his hairline. 

“I see a hot girl, I appreciate a hot girl,” Mat shrugged. “But don’t worry, I won’t try anything. I know she’s off-limits.” 

The rest of the afternoon passed quicker than she would have thought, and after a few hours and more good conversations, it was time for Astride to leave. “Have a safe drive back,” Anthony said, giving her a hug. 

“I will,” she responded. 

He opened the driver’s side door for her. “I’m really glad you came, you know. Everyone liked you, you fit in great.” 

“It wasn’t all me,” she said, sliding into the seat, turning her head to Anthony to continue the conversation. “Everyone really did seem to go out of their way to make me feel included, I think they understood the feeling of moving to a whole new place without a big support system and wanted to do what they could to help mitigate that for me.” Astride consciously left out Lauren’s little comment, four words that had been bouncing around in her head for hours since they had been said. He didn’t need to know. She didn’t need him to know, it could confuse him and complicate things when they were just getting back into the rhythm of friendship, of being each other’s person. 

Anthony tapped his fingers on the car door. “I’m glad.” 

“Me too.”

Beau went to sleep that night, Mat’s words bouncing around in his head. “I know she’s off-limits.” It’s not like Cass was his sister or something, someone who would inherently be barred from his best friend’s dating pool. But Mat seemed to know right away, without having ever been told, that she wasn’t someone he could ever even consider pursuing. Why? And what did Mat seem to know that he didn’t?

November 12 (fri)

It was early November, and Anthony and Astride had just settled down at a table in Prospect Park, coffee cups warming their hands through the late fall chill. “How do you feel about last night?” Astride asked teasingly. He had a three point game, two goals and an assist in a 4-1 win over the Canes, so there really wasn’t any question that he was still riding on the high. 

Beau rolled his eyes. “Good, obviously. It would have been nice to get a hat trick, but I know that’s asking for a lot and I didn’t want to tempt fate too much. They made a really good push late in the second.”

“But you won,” she said, poking his shoulder with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her mocha. 

“But we won,” he agreed. He suddenly got quiet, the kind of quiet where, if you know the person well enough, you can tell that something’s up. That they’re thinking of something. And Astride was right. “Do you ever think about Switzerland?” he asked. 

Astride looked at him from the side, knowing right away that he wasn’t asking about the country. “All the time,” she admitted. 

---

It was the spring of 2015, and they were in Lucerne. By they, Astride meant her, Tito, and the rest of the 2015 Canadian U18 World Cup team. And by in Lucerne, she meant crowded into someone’s hotel room with no adult supervision. Anthony wasn’t sure where any of the coaching staff had gone, but if he was being honest, he was riding on way too big of a high to even care. They had clinched the bronze medal earlier that day, celebrating with the family and friends who had made the trip out, gotten dinner, and then packed into the first team room they came to. Well, technically, Astride, Tito, and Mat had made a stop at the grocery store before meeting everyone else back in the room. The drinking age in Switzerland was 16 for everything but spirits, and everyone was planning on taking full advantage of that. The cashier gave them a look as she took her and Anthony’s French licenses and Mat’s English one, but the charge went through just fine, and fifteen minutes later they were walking back through the doorway with three cases of beer and a few bottles of sparkling wine for good measure. Astride had never been so grateful to have her own checking account. 

“You ever drink before?” Mat asked her as they opened the cases. 

Astride shrugged. “Not really. A glass of wine every now and again back home with my parents, but nothing too crazy.” 

He held out a bottle for her, fishing around in his pocket for the bottle opener they had picked up at the store. “Have fun.” 

And have fun Astride did. She had finished off two of the beers, and one of the younger teammates — she didn’t remember who — had popped open the wine. In his slightly inebriated state, it took longer than it should have to twist off the muselet, which then led to foam all over the floor and fifteen sixteen and seventeen-year-olds running to the bathroom to grab towels to try and mop it up with. And then running back to the bathroom to get the water glasses because they needed something to drink it out of, right? And then to everyone else’s rooms because they quickly realized that two cups definitely wasn’t enough to go around, and then everyone was back in the room, on the beds and around the beds, finally letting themselves celebrate. Astride was just finishing her glass when Mat spoke. “Anyone up for never have I ever?” Nobody said otherwise, so two minutes later, they were all arranged in what could very generously be called a circle, fresh drinks in hand. After a solid five minutes of repeating the rules — there was always at least one person who seemed to genuinely struggle with the idea that you drank if you had done the thing, not if you hadn’t — they were slowly but surely making their way around the circle. 

Questions ranged from the mundane — “Never have I ever gotten detention” — to the raunchy — “Never have I ever had my parents walk in on me” — neither of which Astride or Tito drank to. 

By the time it was Mat’s turn, he had had plenty of time to think, looking around the group with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Tito asked skeptically. 

He shrugged. “Never have I ever...kissed anyone in the circle.” As expected, nobody drank, but apparently that wasn’t expected, not for Mat, at least. He looked between Anthony and Astride incredulously. “Seriously? You two have never kissed?”

Anthony shook his head. “Nope.”

“How? You’ve been friends for, like, a million years, not even when you were little or anything?” he asked. 

“Never,” Astride said. “Kind of hard to kiss your best friend when you haven’t kissed anyone before.” She barely even realized that everyone was still listening in. 

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” Anthony asked, surprised. 

Astride looked down at her hands, sipping her beer. “Nope.” She gave him a brief smile. “I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but no. Just hasn’t happened yet.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was feelings buried so deeply in Anthony’s mind that he didn’t think would ever see the light of day, let alone have to be confronted, that made him say what he did next. “I could—if you wanted—you don’t have to, but—” he stammered.

Astride laughed, looking at him curiously. “What is it, Tito? You’re not normally one to stumble over your words like that.”

He picked at his fingernails, an old nervous tick from his childhood that his mother was never quite able to get him to break, keenly aware that the whole room had decided to listen into their conversation. “I was just trying to say...I could do it, if you want. Kiss you, I mean. If you just wanted to get it over with, or whatever. I just figured. You know me, you trust me, you’re comfortable with me. Better that than some idiot at school who doesn’t care about you.”

Her cheeks burned as she looked over at him, but even though it took her nearly a minute to respond, she had her answer after five seconds. “Why not?” Astride flashed him the purest, gentlest smile, the kind that let him know just how much she cared about him and how deeply she trusted him. And the look on her face meant the world to him. 

Anthony leaned in, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, his fingertips just barely touching her cheek as their foreheads leant together. “You sure about this?” He needed her to be sure. 

She nodded. “I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I never imagined my first kiss would be in front of an audience,” she paused to giggle at the rest of the team, who were giving the scene their full attention in a way that somehow wasn’t uncomfortable at all, just wholesome and supportive, “but yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all the permission Anthony needed to lean forward, pressing his lips against hers, in a kiss that was soft and sweet and somehow everything Astride needed all in one. He pulled back after a moment, a goofy smile on his face. “How was it?”

Astride couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Good, it was really good, Tito. Thank you for that.”

“What are friends for?”

---

“Friends are for kissing each other, apparently,” Astride giggled, leaning into Anthony on his couch. 

He laughed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over her arm. “Did you ever think something was going to happen between us?” Anthony asked curiously. 

Astride shrugged. “At some point, yeah. I think it was kind of hard not to, with our parents and literally everyone we spent time with saying we were destined to fall in love.” She looked down at her hands, trying not to give away the fact that at one point, she had believed them. 

November 30 (tues)

“Do you want to come over Friday?” Anthony asked, sprawled out across her couch on one of his rare nights off. He had made the drive over to Astride’s apartment, cooking salmon and roasting vegetables while she took the much more daunting task of picking what to watch on Netflix. She settled on Back to the Future. “I can order in Thai, I know we’re trying to work our way through the Mission Impossibles.” 

Astride grimaced. “I actually...kind of have a date Friday night,” she admitted. 

Anthony made a hum of surprise. “You do?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so shocked, Tito. There are men in this city of nine million who want to take me out.” 

He sputtered. “It’s not that that shocks me, Asty. You’d have men lining up around the block for you if you’d give any of them a second glance. It’s just that. You never seem to bother actually going after any of them. What made this one different?” 

“I mean, honestly hour?” Astride said, shrugging. 

“Honestly hour.” 

“I haven’t been on a date since I left Montréal, you know that. It had been a few months there too. And I’ve loved hanging out with you more, getting to know Mat and the team and everyone’s partners, but...I needed something different, too. Something that felt like a part of my life that wasn’t directly connected to the team. Which, don’t get me wrong,” she added hastily, “I love them, and it’s been so nice to be a part of that group, I just…” Astride trailed off. 

“You can’t let that be the only part of your life. I get it,” Anthony added helpfully.  

“Yeah,” Astride agreed. “So enter Cole. He works in a different division of the IE department, I’m obviously Europe and he’s Asia, mostly does work with Taiwan and Singapore. Um,” she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling, “he seems really nice, did international business at UPenn, which is a great program. Speaks fluent Mandarin, uh, I think he mentioned he’s got a few fish at home.” 

Anthony snorted. “What’s wrong with fish?” Astride asked defensively. 

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong with fish,” he said. “Just seems like an odd choice. Maybe his building doesn’t allow pets or something.” 

“Maybe,” Astride responded. “I wouldn’t know, he lives in Manhattan, over in Tribeca. Bikes to work.” 

Tito laughed again. “I don’t trust people who bike to work in New York City, Asty. They have zero regard for their own lives or safety.” 

She giggled. “That might be true. But I’m looking forward to it, the date, I mean. I really am. It’s been a while since I’ve really put myself back out there, and I’m ready for something good. Something real.” 

He gave a half-smile from his side of the couch. “I’m happy for you, Astride. I hope you have a great time, and I hope he treats you right. If he doesn’t, just let him know that you can sic an entire professional hockey team on him with a single phone call.” 

“I will,” she said. “I’ll call you when it’s over, tell you how it went.” “

I’ll be waiting,” he said. 

Anthony thought back on the conversation as he sat on the corner of his bed that night, about to go to sleep. He turned his phone over and over in his hands, his eyes fixating on the chip in the crown molding that he hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet. He wasn’t lying to Astride when he said he was happy for her. He was, of course he was, who wouldn’t want their best friend to be happy? But while he wanted nothing more, nothing more, than to be able to give his full-throated support for her date, and the potential the future held for her and this Cole guy, he couldn’t do it. There was something stopping him. And the worst part of it all was that Anthony was starting to realize what it was. 

---

Astride had said that their dinner reservation was at 7, some brasserie in the West Village. “That’s a French thing, right?” Cole had asked. 

“It is,” Astride responded, gearing up for her translation skills to be used for the first time in months. She spoke almost exclusively French around Tito, and with JGP and Brassard, but the majority of her day was spent in English. Cole said that the restaurant had come highly recommended from one of his Wall Street friends, something that should have been the first red flag. 

“Never trust the finance bros,” Reese, a German specialist and one of her friends at the office, had said. “They all think they’re God’s gift to mankind when I can guarantee you they ain’t shit.”  

She had said it was at 7, so Anthony wasn’t expecting to hear from her until much later; honestly, he would have been surprised if she had called before 10. He tried not to think about what it could mean if she didn’t call at all that night. She had said it was at 7, so when he heard a knock at his door at half past nine, he practically jumped out of his skin before scrambling to open the door. His eyebrows rose when he saw Astride on the other side of the door, then his face contorted into a look of sympathy as he saw the sad smile on her lips, her jacket slung over one arm. 

“Can I come in?” she asked. He nodded without question, holding the door while stepping out of the way. He padded to the kitchen, bringing out a bottle of Moscato and two glasses. Astride smiled gratefully at him as he uncorked the bottle and poured. He knew that she couldn’t do red wine when she was upset, and she was upset. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked tentatively. 

Astride shrugged, sipping the wine. “Not much to tell other than it was probably the worst first date I’ve ever been on.” 

That piqued Anthony’s interest. He’d never be happy that she was upset, but something told him the story wasn’t quite that simple. “What about it was so bad?” 

“Where do I begin?” she sighed. “He was on time, but that’s pretty much the only thing Cole did right the entire night. He was rude to the waitress when we had to wait all of ten minutes until our reservation was ready, because the couple ahead had gone long. Then he ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine they had, without even asking me to see what I wanted. He really just was trying to show off that he could afford it. And it was a Sangiovese, and you know I hate dry wines, so I was just trying to choke the whole thing down. And then he insisted on ordering for me, which is probably the most chauvinistic thing I could think of, I mean, who does that anymore?” she asked incredulously. 

Tito shrugged. It was disrespectful, absolutely, but more than that, it was just weird. If women have mouths that work, then they’re more than capable of doing something as simple as ordering their own food. 

“And he kept trying to pour me more wine after the first glass, even when I told him a million times I was good.” Anthony’s grip on his glass tightened. Astride rubbed her temples with her free hand. “He just kept going on and on about work, and this big promotion he’s insisting he’s going to get even though I know for a fact that they want Maria for it. I could barely get a word in edgewise. That’s when I just decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I faked that Jean-Claude was calling, grabbed my jacket, and caught a cab over here.” She looked up at him, the same disappointed expression she had worn when he opened the door. “I was really hoping this one would pan out, Tito.” 

He felt an ache in his heart. He may have been less than thrilled about the prospect of Astride going out on a date, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her so despondent. He leaned over, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose. “I know, Asty. And I’m sorry it didn’t.”

December 13 (mon)

Anthony and Mat were the last ones in the locker room after a morning practice. “I found this new place nearby last week that’s got great smoothie bowls, want to get one after you finish packing your stuff?” Anthony asked, looking over at Mat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Sounds good,” Mat nodded, half-listening. 

Anthony glanced over at him, a weird look on his face. “You good, dude? You sound distracted.”

Mat spoke abruptly, looking over at Tito with a laser-focused expression. “How long have you been in love with Astride?” 

Anthony’s eyebrows jumped a foot. “In love with Astride? Why would you think that?”

Mat gave him a look, the kind of look that let Anthony know he was dead serious about what he was saying, and more than that, that he believed it. “Tito, I’m dumb, but I’m not stupid.”

Anthony leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “It’s that obvious?” 

“Yep,” Mat said, popping the p. 

“Do you think she knows?” His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper. 

“I don’t know,” Mat said, shrugging. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to really be able to know about something as big as that and not address it. Doesn’t like to keep things bottled up, it’s not really her style.”

Anthony nodded. “It’s not.” He raked one hand through his haid, his head still leaning on the other one. “God. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with her?”

Mat put one hand on Beau’s back, comforting him as best he could. “I don’t know, Tito. I wish I could help. What I do know,” he said, “is that you’re going to have to eventually. Because it’s going to tear you up if you don’t.”

December 18 (sat)

Astride tossed one final empty can into the garbage bag. “I think that’s it,” she said, giving his living room a cursory look. What had looked like a warzone only less than an hour before now more closely resembled the somewhat-messy but perfectly respectable bachelor pad of a man in his 20s, like it should have. With the holidays approaching, Anthony had decided to take it into his own hands to host a party — alongside Astride, who he had practically begged for help — intent on showcasing his newly-acquired skills by playing bartender the whole night. He was surprisingly capable, Astride had thought, if her Sazerac was anything to go by. 

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Asty. And thanks for staying and helping clean everything up, you really didn’t have to.” 

She tied the bag off and set it by the door with the other one. “I wanted to. And besides, I’m staying over,” she said, looking over at Anthony, “so what did you think I was going to do? Lock myself in the guest room while you cleaned up the whole apartment by yourself? What kind of a woman do you take me for?” she asked in mock offense. 

Anthony laughed, sitting down on the couch with a satisfying thump, pulling Astride into his side when she settled next to him. 

“I’m so glad we got back in contact,” she said, muffled against the fabric of his hoodie. “I’m so glad we’re friends again.” 

He felt guilty; more than that, he knew that the guilt, at least some of it, was deserved. “I should have done more,” he lamented. “I should have done more to keep in contact, more to show you I cared, more so you’d know that your friendship is one of the things I value most in my life.” 

Astride gave a small smile. “It’s a two-way street, Tito. Sure, I won’t lie and say that you really put all that much effort into keeping in contact. You didn’t.” He winced, she shot him a sympathetic look. “I love you, but you know me. I don’t mince my words. But I definitely could have done more than text you congratulations or leave a thirty-second voicemail on your birthday. We both could have done more. We both should have done more,” she said, correcting herself. “What do you think happened, though? Where did we go wrong?” As much as she might have hated it, Astride was that kind of person. She went through every bad decision in her life with a fine-toothed comb, needing to know what went wrong, needing to know what she could have done differently. 

“I think,” he began, “that it was just so easy to get distracted from ‘back home’ things. From our friendship, from my relationships with my family. From the important things, the things that I should have made an effort to prioritize even when the season got hectic and games got hard. And I’m not trying to make excuses,” he added quickly, “but there was just something about where I was, physically and mentally. I was 19, a rookie in one of the biggest cities in the world, and I think I just lost sight of things. Between the practices and games and going out and community events and trying to get in more than five hours of sleep a night, it was a lot,” he admitted. “It was stressful, probably weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. And I don’t want to sound ungrateful, because I’m well aware I was — and am — living a life thousands of kids would kill for, but there’s a lot that goes on behind the scenes that you don’t really understand unless you’ve been through it. I don’t have many regrets from my rookie season, or really many in my career so far. Don’t regret moving for minors, don’t regret going to the Isles, don’t regret any of the contracts I’ve signed or plays I’ve made. Well,” he smirked, “maybe a few. But the one big one? The only real regret I’ve had? Letting you go.” 

Astride swallowed hard, choosing her next words carefully. “What do you mean, letting me go?”

Anthony let out a hard sigh. He’d put it off for long enough. He couldn’t do it any longer. “Never telling you how I feel.”

“How you feel?” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, her fingers tangling in the fringe of the fleece blanket that was slung over the couch cushions. 

“Like I love you so much my heart could burst.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “How long have you known?”

He looked at her with a soft smile. “Ever since Switzerland.”

“Six years?”

“Six years.” He reached out slowly, so slowly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear when she didn’t move back. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Anthony spoke again, his voice wavered. “Asty? Say something.”

Astride’s lifted her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I knew since I was 15.”

His face split into a grin, wider and wider until she was sure she’d never seen a bigger smile. “You did? You do?”

She nodded, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat fluttering butterfly-fast underneath her fingertips. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since I knew what love was, Tito.”

He pushed forward, pressing his lips against hers for the first time since 2015, the first time since Switzerland. It was gentle and meaningful and somehow communicated all of the love and emotion that had been built up between the two of them in the past six years. Anthony pulled back after a minute, his lips pink and slightly puffy. “Tell me where your head’s at, Astride.”

“Is it too cliché to just say that this might be the happiest I’ve been in years?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all.” But there was something that she wasn’t quite letting go of. “What is it, Astride?”

Astride sniffed. “I want this. You and I, I want it so mad it hurts. I just hate the idea that we’d turn into some sort of cliché. Childhood friends who grow up and fall in love, but something goes wrong and they split up and suddenly the dynamic of everything is messed up and I don’t want that, Tito. I don’t know if I could deal with you hating me because of how things ended.” 

“But things don’t have to end, Asty. Every broken heart, every date where some asshole has stood you up has led you to know that you deserve more. You deserve so much more, Astride, you deserve the sun and the moon and someone who would hang them in the sky for you. It doesn’t have to end in heartbreak. It doesn’t have to end at all.” 

Astride had always been someone who was cautious, someone who thought before she acted and never spoke without thinking through every possible outcome. But this was one of the times that she couldn’t do that, one of the times when, as much as she may have hated it, she needed to take a leap of faith. And so she did. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Anthony asked, his voice lifting. 

She nodded, the happiness on her face unmistakable. “Okay.”

And as Astride and Anthony FaceTimed her parents to break the news, her mom slapping her dad’s shoulder, claiming that she had “called it” back in 2014, Astride was filled with a sense of undeniable, irreplaceable joy. The kind of joy that the poets write about and artists put brush to canvas trying to depict, the kind that most people go their whole lives only hoping to get a glimpse of. The kind that made Astride more certain of one thing than she had perhaps been in her entire life. It didn’t have to end in heartbreak. And this one didn’t have to end at all. 

And as they stood two years later in a little church in their hometown, promising in front of their family and friends and the entire New York Islanders to love each other for the rest of their lives, Astride finally believed it.

[alexiaugustin]

good morning mutuals and everyone else on tumblr who is cool and made my year! this is gonna be my mutuals appreciation post 2020 because if anything good happened this year then it's getting to know all of you guys so there's that. i love you all so so sooo much and always love to see y'all and your gif sets / memes / crack posts /rants / edits and so on and so forth on my dash. you made this year beautiful and i just wanna thank u for that!💘💘 (also im sorry if the picture above activates anyone's fight response i just thought that it would fit if i went back to where it all started)

@engelkeijsers mare my love i don't even have words to describe how much i love you and am happy to have you in my life. i consider you one of my closest friends by now and that's why i always message you whenever exciting shit happens in my life (or whenever shit goes down that ofc depends🤪). our phone calls were so fucking funny and i loved talking to you sooo much i can't wait to meet you in real life one day!!💖 please feel hugged you're such a beautiful human.

@dreamaur ann my beloved mutual i love you from the bottom of my heart and just wanna thank you for being the cute bitch that u are who always remembers our mutuals anniversary like....🥺🥺 i just love that we always watch and read and stan the same things like what kind of soulmutuals behavior is this?. can't wait for s&b to air so we can always freak out about kaz and inej and everyone else together. i'm kissing your cheek and wish you the absolute best for 2021 because u deserve the best😽

@sotorubio silja i love you and your blog so much you just have such a galaxy brain and you're so eloquent and your blog is one of the few that i check on regularly because i don't wanna miss a single post you make. here's a fun fact before i properly got to know you i thought that you were sooo intimating i don't even know why and then we started talking at some point and i was like "hold on a second they are SO lovely and warm actually and not intimating at all hdhdh" as you might have figured out by now i always love talking to you about skames or rant about 13rw and everything else. i just love u!!!🧡

@helmtaryn aurore you are probably the first person who ever started talking to me on here and so it all began and we always talked abt skam france before s6 started and during and you're just such a wonderful person!! thank you for always being there for me and helping me with my french homework i truly cannot thank you enough for that because you're constantly saving my ass jdhd. you're just so fun to talk to and such a talented gif maker like... for real your gif sets always knock me out and you're always so original in what you gif🥺❣

@geminibf i know i've told you that before but your blog is my comfort blog on here literally just seeing your posts on my dash always makes my day and you're one of the most beautiful ppl i've ever known like how do you even manage to do that🥺💘 plus you're sooo talented at this point im convinced that there's absolutely nothing that you cannot do so yeah i have no idea where this sentence is going but i guess what im trying to tell u is that i love u and im so happy to be ur friend

@alterlovex niiiii❣❣❣ you're not even like a tumblr mutual you're like my tumblr sister (figure out what the hell this is supposed to mean jdjd) and you were one of the first people who hyped my stupid posts up and it always made me go 🥺😭. i started following you despite the fact that u had a wtfock icon (honorary) and i absolutely never regretted it. you're so beautiful and warm and so is your blog and i will try to talk more to u again in 2021. im virtually sending you so many flowers🌷🌻🌸💐

@jorgecrespo you're just the coolest bitch alive. i followed you for your skam rankings and stayed for your whole entire personality. every post you make truly just slaps, you never miss, and i relate to you so much jdjd. the way you answer anon messages will forever be my favorite thing about your blog and just the way you talk in general like without even seeing your url i always know when it's you who wrote a post. i love you❕❕💖

@jusdekiwi you and aurore are the reason why french people deserve rights, you are such a lovely and genuine person and i absolutely love you and your chill vibes on your blog. also thank you for helping me out with my french homework thingy once like. thank you so so much for being so lovely and taking your time julia!🌻

@suburbanenigma carmen i love you and all of your posts and just the vibes on your blog!!! also omfg your riverdale side blog always makes me laugh soo much i truly cannot wait for s5 to air so we can make fun of it together because i will live blog the shit out of it too!! you're just one of the coolest bitches ever i don't know how else to say it. i love you and cant wait to talk to you more next year. you're such a blessing for this hellsite🦋✨

@sundaymorninghangover julian you are one of my oldest friends on here and i've loved you ever since i found your blog and figured out that u were a part of the having taste club (skames fandom) too!! you're so chill!!! i love your brain!! i love your posts!!! and most importantly i love you. please keep on blessing my dash with your cool posts because they are definitely appreciated and loved in this house. also i miss your frog icon (please don't hit me in case it wasn't a frog) it just spoke volumes about your vibes but i love ur new one too!! still associate the purple heart with you so here it is 💜💜

@lesbeanfatou clara you simply are an angel. you used to have a nora grace icon and i went: that's it, she's the one, she has taste im gonna follow!! and look it was one of the best decisions ever. you're my favorite chaotic n cool mosquito hater and i just love you so much and you made my year beautiful!! thank you for always listening to me when i came into your inbox to have a break down (positive or negative) over the we feel in love in october girl and thank you for teaching me how make edits!!!💐💘

@aoixe you're one of my favorite skamfr hate blogs and certain men hate blogs (if u know u know) i always love talking and ranting with you and am so glad that we're sometimes just dming!! you're vibes are so cool a d you seem like such a chill person i love you and wish you all the best for 2021!!❣❣

@fatoudixon ana i love you and your blog so so much and especially your druck reaction videos on youtube!! you seem like such a genuine and beautiful person and even though we're not talking much please just know that im always happy to see you on my dash. happy new year to you!!💘💘

@cash-queens sam🥺 you're so sweet and kind this hell site truly doesn't even deserve you but we all love that you're here anyway!! i would protect you with my life and i hope that we will get to talk more in 2021 because you're such a lovely person and for now im just gonna wish u a happy new year✨

@avaceleste sophiaaa💌 you've been here ever since the very beginning of skamfr season 6 and i always love talking to you and long live our eliola jokes, you were probably the person i started this cult with so here is our eliola emoji starterpack one more time in 2020 💏🌧🎬

@hashtag-ohboy-nicetry i have no idea whose side blog this was but the url alone made my entire year🤭🤞

@ random love anon❤ i love you and hope that 2021 will be a good year for you because you absolutely deserve it!!! wishing u nothing but the best i always love to see you around!💐💘

all the other amazing blogs i love and am always happy to see on my dash (doesn't matter if we're mutuals or not)

@floraflorenzi / @bi-kieu-my / @gumptin / @thegirlnooneknows5 / @littleweirdoss / @sohereisthisasshole / @noramachwtz / @nori-in-pink / @ayellowcurtain / @mailinrichter / @ijzermanora / @fudgetunblr / @lesbianfatous / @norgestan / @cfgc / @avaspereira / @theflowerisblue / @smblmn / @jon-astronaut / @amiraamore / @parelmoer / @stqrz 💘❣💐🦋💌🌸

i wish all of you a very happy new year and thank you for all of your gifs, posts, translations, fanfics & edits you all truly make this place beautiful❕💘

[valtiels-darkness]

In Search of a RP partner. Must be nsfw friendly (though, it is more story driven than anything else. This is NOT a porn. Smut , if any has to drive the story.)​

I'm looking for someone to RP as Ondolemar from Skyrim. It's a female Nord Vampire/ Ondolemar romance. I normally do not do F/M RPs, but this headcannon will not leave me alone. Ondolemar's looks are based off the Handsome Ondolemar mod. Though added flair is appreciated! Looking for 3rd pov, Literate/Semi-literate, prefer other's who like story more than smut. Daily replies (life gets in the way, a head's up would be appreciated!), Wanting a partner who can contribute to the story. I adore enemies to friends to lovers. At least a 2 paragraph reply. PLOT: I rather negotiate the plot with you! I have a general idea and will post when there is a prospect for a partner. Though, basic idea: Serana, Lucien , and Dexion suggested to Aconita, to accompany Dexion back to the Imperial City. Mainly as a distraction. She agrees and also suggests they stop off to visit some old friends at The College of Whispers. Thalmor are present, all along Cyrodil. Ondolemar had been reassigned to lead the Dominion's interests in the Imperial province. First, in the Imperial City, then in Lleyawyn. They do NOT hit it off at first. He suspects what she is (Bonus points for why he does not turn her in.). More Bonus Points: *Altmer breeding doctrines and since he is "superiorly bred" Mer? If he has any inclinations outside of other "Superiorly Bred" Altmer, consequences will be had. *Ondolemar is already in an arranged marriage. Both find the other quite dull, in secret. *An argument about Lorkhan. * Sancre Tor and debates on Talos. *Shared interest in a bitter, roasted bean brew (you may come up with the coffee equivalent name!) *Super Secretly soft Ondolemar. *Ondolemar, Lucien, and Dexion adventure shenanigans! A Bit about my character: Name: Aconita Age: 26. Height: 6'3. Race: Nord- Daughter of Coldharbour. Religion: Daedric worshipper. Main patrons being Sheogorath, Nocturnal, Sithis, and Hermaeous Mora. Formally Molag Bal. Affiliation: College of Whispers, Dark Brotherhood, and Volkihar Coven. Alignment: Chaotic Neutral. Sign: Born under the Shadow. Weapons of choice: Daedric Crescent, Dawn/Duskfang, and Ruin's Edge with Soul Stealer Arrows. Homesteads: Elysium meets Leafrest mashup, though in the Rift. Raven Castle, but make it a family thing. Also, resides in Volkihar Castle. Class: Multiclasses. Assasin/Necromancer (School of Conjuration)/Bard. Companions: Serana, Lucien Flavius (Follower mod, more like an apprentice.), Teldryn Sero, Shavee, Opal (an OC Bosmer, female.), Arvak, Durnevhir (Is able to summon him and does so regularly.), Babette, Tolfdir, Dexion, and Nazir. Former Companions: Ysolda (former, one sided love interest), Lydia (The companion that was turned into a sweetroll...), Kaidan ( a mod follower. Akaviri, former lover, but just left her with no reason as to why.), J'Zhargo (Partner in crime, had gone to Northpoint.), and the Dragonborn. Hobbies: Foraging, Cooking, Alchemy, Summoning, trying to commune with the hist. Is moonsugar a hobby or a way of life? Appearance: Avatar picture is of Aconita. Eyes: Reflective yellow/silver iris, and a deep blood red sclera. Almond shaped, hooded. Hair: Shoulder length, undercut, wavy, and a cool toned midnight black. Skin: Very pale, "White as snow", with cool undertones. Making her skin almost "glow" in certain cold light ( That is actually a thing, in certain ambient light, with cooler undertones). Various scars due to her adventures. Notable ones are under her left eye and right side of her mouth to her clavicle (They happened when she became a Daughter of Cold Harbour). Facial tattoos of a deep blackish red on both eyes (almost looks like elaborate makeup). Brief personality description: Unhinged, yet can be composed. Not the "SkYRiM fOr tHe nOrDs" type. Despises Ulfric. Enjoys conjuration... A little too much. Has fun with the Wabbajack. Once turned one of her companions into a sweetroll... Tried to find a way to reverse the effect... Got hungry, and well... You get the rest! She can be lethally calculating when the need arises, but gets bored

easily. Has a sweet tooth. There is obvious trauma, due to the Molag Bal ritual... Light hearted, dark sense of humour. A chronic insomniac. Referenced Mods in the RP will be: Soul Stealer Arrows, Elysium Estate, Raven Castle, Wearable Horns-TDN (Vampire Lord crown in picture.), Lucien Flavius, Kaiden, Handsome Ondolemar, Tamrielic Lore (a good one to look at!), Alchemical Cooking, Raven Witch Armor, Winterhold Restored, Magical College of Winterhold, Castle Volkihar Redux. Areas: I would love all of Tamriel to be traversed, or mentioned. Shivering Isles and Apocrypha. Mentions of Thras, Atmora, Yokudan, and Akavir. Frostcrag Spire. Lore: If you need a brush up or a rundown: Uesp.net is a great place. I'll also be more than willing to help! There is more, but will update for later. Message through here, inbox, or whatever is easiest for you, if interested! Thank you!