#sometimes you just have to be really dramatic about your period. you know. coping.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

waiting for my period to start is literal terror like i can hear the metaphorical suspenseful music playing and feel nervous and can’t stop checking to see if he’s here and can’t stop thinking about when will it come? will i need to throw away any underwear this time? what if it comes in the middle of the night? should i just sleep on a towel?

[hevlaska]

dgm quartet + reader with PMDD

PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) is an endocrine disease that causes intense pms symptoms + depression, anxiety, mood swings, changes in apetite, and many other things, 10 - 14 days before a person's period. I was recently diagnosed and I thought this would be comforting for me bc im kinda struggling with it recently. Do with it what you will.

Brief nsfw mentions for Lavi and Kanda sorry. Its just boobs + sex mentions lol but you know. Tumblr. Just gotta be safe.

Allen

He's really kind about it, but it can be hard for him to be patient with you sometimes when your symptoms start to show.

You get into very hopeless, dire moods and he wants to snap at you when you speak unkindly about yourself. But he restrains himself

Would probably do a bunch of research on it and give suggestions on how to better cope with it, if you don't have a handle on it already.

Hes ready to give you whatever you need tbh. If you need space, he'll leave you be. If you're wanting support, he's there.

There are times when Allen will need a moment to cool down, too, when you're having a hard time. It stresses him out to see you so upset, and he has to walk away sometimes.

Often suggests different food to make you feel better. Will force Link to make it for you

Lenalee

Because it is influenced by stress and trauma, I imagine Lenalee may have PMDD herself. Or, at least knows of it, since everyone in her line of work experiences stress and trauma.

If she doesnt know of it, she researches it, similarly to Allen. But its easier for her to be patient with you than it is for him. That is, unless she experiences it herself.

In that case you two are synced and theres either a lot of crying or a lot of arguing. Or both!

yeah, sorry but two people with pmdd....no. just no

You might be very on and off with her because of it.

If she doesn't have symptoms, though, she takes very good care of you! Makes you tea, exercises with you, lots of cuddles.

There are times when you can be really difficult though and even she would lose her patience sometimes. Not that it would even result in a fight, she'd just drop the subject.

Lavi

Lavi is a walking encyclopedia so he knows what pmdd is and how to treat it. He's actually very good to you about it, and rarely does it ever result in genuine arguments, even when you do have serious mood swings and say the most depressed things he's ever heard very suddenly.

Offers to massage your boobs lol. He's trying to be funny but also knows you're in pain

another one who would exercise with you, but prefers napping together, of course!

Is very good at wrapping you in blankets, holding your face and talking sense into you.

When he can't deal with you though, which is rare, he just avoids talking to you if it gets far enough. He doesn't track your cycle or anything but can tell when you're suffering. The type to shut you out for a while and then act like nothing happened.

Kanda

Uh oh

Like, I was gonna say there's a lot of arguments around the time that you start experiencing symptoms, but. It's just these little (loud, though) spats about you suddenly being the most dramatic depressed person on earth and him getting really pissed when you speak about yourself with so much hate

I was gonna say he'd yell at you, which is probably still true, but genuinely? You could make this man cry. The shit I say when pmdd hits, I think seeing someone he loved like that would upset him deeply. He'd be terrified of you snapping and offing yourself tbh

but, the fights wouldn't last long, I don't think. You just end up crying in his arms lol

He really encourages you to do anything you can to cope because he's scared bro!! He's pushy about it

Will exercise with you. He really pushes this one, because it helps him, too. Will do whatever he can to help you along, if you're kinda weak or inexperienced with exercise

Forces you to eat if you lose your appetite

Doesn't care if it lowers your libido. Even though physical touch of any kind is usually how he expresses his feelings for you, because he sucks with words, he's fine as long as he can cuddle you whenever lol

If you don't have that problem he might try to fuck the self loathing out of you though. Again, he's a very physical guy.

[bulldagger-bait]

I currently have a decrease in my pain because of a new medication I'm taking, and its so true about the things you don't realise you're doing to avoid pain.

I can now stand for longer than I could before. Realising how much longer I can stand without the pain I'm used to is tripping me the fuck out because I'm used to not being able to stand at all. And I'm used to the pain getting worse when i do so. To not have a very specific pain at the base of my spine for a short period of time is alien to me. I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. It always does because the medication is unfortunately not a miracle drug, but it's made me realise how limited my life becomes. You don't see how bad things are until things arent as bad anymore.

I was unpacking after moving house last night and I was shocked at how much I could do. How much I could walk. How long I could stand. Are these normal values by able bodied standards? No. But were they different from what I was used to? Yes. Dramatically.

I've spent almost 9 years getting used to pain. I've spent that time learning that I can't do almost everything I want to. Learning that I have limitations other people simply dont have. I'm now operating at a baseline level of pain where I have greater functional capacity. I didn't realise how bad my pain was until now, because there's no way to truly quantify it if you don't have comparison.

You forget what not being in pain feels like. Likewise, you also forget what severe pain feels like, because your brain can't handle remembering it. You can know it was severe and excruciating, but you can't really remember how it felt to feel it. Until you have contrast. Until you feel better. Until you have a good pain day to put the bad into perspective.

Chronic pain is always painful. Chronic means chronic. It is constant. It is often constantly severe. It is day in, day out. It is always having to bail water out of a sinking ship. It is continuous repairs and maintenance on your body. You don't get a break. You don't get rest. You are always trying to run a store that is on fire. Could you drive in a car peacefully if the engine was billowing smoke?

Able bodied people sometimes don't understand our pain, but I'd argue that sometimes disabled people dont even understand the severity of their own pain. They get used to functioning and finding ways to cope that they forget all the coping strategies they have are not normal.

Its not normal to have a mental timer of:

"Okay, I can stand for 20 seconds or so without my pain getting worse, so I should really find a place to sit down while I wait for the kettle to boil." Or:

"Well, I can usually walk into the small local grocer with my walking aid but I have to get two things from different aisles instead of just a drink from the fridge so I should probably get my wheelchair out for this. Besides, it looks busy and I don't know how long I'll have to wait in line." Or:

"I really want to go to my friend's house on Friday evening, so I should hold off on booking the next doctor's appointment until the middle of next week because: 1) Today is Wednesday and I just finished up with a different doctor's appointment today, so I'm going to be wiped out from that until mid afternoon tomorrow. 2) My friend and I have plans to go out for the evening which means I won't sleep as well so i'll be completely drained on Saturday. 3) I have other plans for Sunday so by the end of the weekend I'm going to be exhausted, and I'm likely going to need Monday and possibly Tuesday to recuperate. Therefore I should book my next appointment for Wednesday instead of earlier." Or:

"I promised my family that I would make it to the holiday dinner but I am in unbearable pain. Usually, when things are this bad, I have to lie down and wait for it to pass. But this is a commitment I made, and I don't want to let them down, so I will take the maximum dose of my pain medication that I can take safely (8 of these tablets over 24 hours, 4 of these pills in 24 hours, and 1 of these really strong ones) and hope that it takes enough of the edge off so that I don't show up in tears. Then I will make sure that I sit down with a heat pack, even though it is more painful than lying down, because it will not be socially acceptable for me to lie down in one of the bedrooms. Maybe then I can self medicate with alcohol, or possibly other medications that I have, in order to get through this. Once this is done, I'll be able to cry and sleep as much as I need." Or:

"My disability income payment is $1000 a fortnight. $500 of that is for rent (this is just a theoretical example, rent and disability payments vary widely) so that means I have $500 left. It's the end of the month, which means I have to buy my medication. Some of my medication is covered by the government, so I get a large discount with my pension card. However, I am also prescribed medication off-label to help with some of my conditions so they cost a lot of money. I also have to get over the counter stuff that I buy in bulk every 3 months cos its cheaper that way. This means that for this month my medication costs are $300. I now have $200 to last for two weeks. $100 of that pays for the fuel that goes into my car to transport me. Now I have $100 left. I have to see my doctor and even though my appointments are covered by the government and medicare, I still have to pay the $300 up front and get reimbursed the next day. I should hold off on buying my medication so the payment can go through. When the reimbursement comes back that means I only have to pay $30 out of pocket because I am eligible for greater returns cos of how much money I have already spent this year on my health (medicare safety net or insurance deductible) That means I have $70 left for food for two weeks. It's probably not going to be enough, but if I don't take my medication I'm going to get worse. Should I buy all of my medication, some of it, or none of it? Do I choose hunger or pain? I think I'm going to choose to buy my medication and just eat what I can afford and go hungry when i have to." Or:

"My disability income isn't enough to support me, but I can't get a job to supplement my income because: 1) Places don't want to hire me because of my disability. 2) I'm an unreliable employee because my disability will mean that I will have to take frequent sick days. 3) I won't be able to work for very long at all. 4) Every dollar I earn from working is taken out of my disability payment, so I will end up with the same amount of money overall. 5) I am physically incapable of working. That's why I'm on disability in the first place." Or:

"I can't live with a partner or get married because my disability payments either: 1) Decreases by a fixed rate for every dollar they earn. Or 2) If they earn over a certain amount of money it completely disqualifies me from having disability support payments. (In Australia, if your spouse or de-facto partner earns more than a fixed amount in a month, you are automatically disqualified. In places like America, getting married makes you ineligible regardless of your partner's income). This means I will become completely dependent on their income. I will no longer have income of my own. I will no longer be self-sufficient. I will no longer be able to pay for my own medical care. I will become completely reliant on one person's income, which is automatically positioning me as unequal in the relationship, and would make me much more vulnerable to abuse. Or, if I merely earn less, then I will have to rely on my spouse or partner to pay for some portion of my medical care. Why should my income be dependent on my partner's income? I don't know, but apparently it is, so I can't have these things in life because someone has decided that that's the way it's going to be."

Do you see how pain consumes your life? These things are not normal or okay, but they're just the way life becomes when you have chronic pain. You learn to manage how you can, but you cannot really see the full scope of things until you have a different perspective. Able bodied people don't always see this side of things, and this way of life becomes normalised to you when you're living it. Sometimes you need to be reminded that it's not normal. Sometimes you can only see how bad it is when you have an experience less-bad to contrast it with.

(I realise some of the later examples get into finances, but it's another thing able bodied people don't really see but disability cannot be separated from money. If you are in chronic pain, financial stress is something that a huge percentage of us deal with. Our pain requires expenses that other people don't have. It requires having to choose between managing your pain and living your life, or eating, or living somewhere, or getting married. Pain eats into every part of your life. And you cannot fully appreciate how much of it is changed until you get a chance to look back.)

I think the biggest misconception abled people have about disabled people's pain is that it feels like normal pain everyone has felt before, and that you can get used to it and grow a tolerance like normal pain.

ITS NOT LIKE THAT

Here's an example, when I was 12 I got a daith piercing in my ear, It was the worst pain I had ever felt. I felt like someone was trying to crush my skull.

Then I became disabled, And that became the worst pain I ever felt. My joints felt like they were literally on fire almost constantly for over 3 years. It NEVER felt less painful.

Last year I had to get my daith repierced, it felt like a tiny pinch.

The constant chronic pain I feel has increased my tolerance for normal pain, but you cannot increase tolerance for chronic pain. It is always excruciating at worst, very uncomfortable at best, the pain never hurts less. You just learn how to accept it and strengthen your mind enough to think past the pain. YOU CANNOT GET USED TO CHRONIC PAIN. That's why we can't "push through it", or "toughen up". It's not normal pain, your brain is literally confused and forces you to feel pain because it thinks you're extremely injured.

Imagine burning your arm on something reeaaally hot, now imagine the burning sensation you feel is inside your muscles and joints and not on the surface on your skin, now imagine feeling that 24/7 and you can't get rid of it. That's what I'm dealing with man. Do you abled people get it now??

[its-deputy-caleb]

Could I request the Four Lords reacting to thinking the read is scared of them and that’s why they won’t speak to them, but really reader is mute (whether born that way, because of trauma, or a physical injury)

Maybe they know sign language and that’s how they communicate instead?

Okay so i’m very sorry for the late delay of these I’ve been super busy and i just whipped this up really quickly and i apologise that it’s really rushed!! I hope these aren’t too bad although i’m not super happy with how they turned out :((

Alcina Dimitrescu

It’s only natural that working in Castle Dimitrescu that you’d be a little fearful of unpredictability of Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters.

However what you didn’t know was that she’s taken a liking to you already, watching you work from afar and she made it very clear that no one was to harm you.

Whenever you interacted she could help but notice how quiet you were, finding it rather odd when you responded to her commands with a short nod and a bow.

Alcina becomes fascinated with you, her eye always on you and sometimes even beckoning you to come and pour her wine just to see your reaction.

She walks past the cellars one day and notices you talking to a maiden. Well you weren’t exactly talking but the two of you were moving your hands in a way that looked like you could understand each other, watching the smile on your face.

Her curiosity and mild jealously meant she took it upon herself to understand exactly what she saw and came to learn that you are mute.

She becomes very overprotective of you after seeing you smile and light up like that, wanting to keep you by her side and away from anything that could harm you.

Eventually you earn her respect and no longer have to work for her. Instead of working you spend your days having tea in elaborate outfits, sitting across from Alcina as she rambles for hours about the girls dragging more bloodied corpses onto the new carpets or Heisenberg’s dramatic outbursts at family meetings or the complaints from the villages.

All of it made you smile and Alcina feels so accomplished when she sees you light up the way she first saw you. Feeling like she’s finally found the way in to your heart.

Her favourite thing to do is at the end of each night walk you to your permanent chambers, bringing a kiss to your hand and signing “goodnight my love” in sign language. It was one of the first things in sign language that you taught her and she’s never once forgetten it.

Donna Beneviento

At first Donna didn’t really notice that you are quieter compared to most people as she’s often finds herself falling into long periods of silence herself.

Not only is she generally reserved and not inclined to socialise like her siblings but a lot of the trauma and experiments she received from Mother Miranda has led to her withdrawing even more.

The only one she really talks to is Angie, although the doll is apart of her, it’s how she copes and allows herself to come out of her comfort zone without having to interact with her family which remind her of all the terrible experiences.

At first Donna believes you’re scared of her and Angie especially. She’s just so excited to finally have someone from outside the family who she trusts and wants to be with and doesn’t want to scare you away.

This makes her tense up a lot and push you away because she hates the thought of scaring you but Angie is apart of her and she doesn’t know how to keep you in her life while remaining herself.

But she quickly learns that you’re mute and although you can’t express it through words you care just as much for her.

That’s how you both discover that just being in each other’s company is enough for you to be happy together.

Touch is the one thing that keeps you both connected. Whether you have your hand in hers or you’ve got each other in a tight hug, touch is the way you both say ‘i love you’.

Sometimes when she’s having a bad day and you can feel the nerves pouring out of her, you walk up and hold your palm up to her.

Donna’s hand will sit softly against your own with only the tips of your fingers intertwining, just the slightest touch can calm her. Your forehead presses to hers and you hold her close until all her worries melt away.

Even though you can’t tell her, all the fleeting touches and gentle movements are how you tell Donna every day that you could never be scared of her but in fact you love her very deeply.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore instantly panics when he sees you don’t talk, his mind instantly jumping to the conclusion that you must either fear him or hate him like everyone else.

He doesn’t want to lose you, and is almost desperate for you attention which he doesn’t understand can’t be said through words.

He’s gonna bring you all of the things he likes in hopes to show you that he’s not scary like everyone thinks.

Each night he’s bringing you blankets (which are damp and kinda smell but he doesn’t know) and each morning he’s got breakfast for you and he’s gonna bring all the cheese he owns.

He’s still convinced you’re scared of him so he drops them in front of you and retreats into the corner with his hands raised, anticipating your rejection but still no less scared of your reaction.

“I’m not scary, I promise…”

Eventually he realises you can’t speak and that you enjoy his efforts to make you comfortable, thinking it’s adorable.

When you become comfortable around each other you being to show him some phrases in sign language so he can communicate with you. He’s definitely eager to learn, practically begging alcina for books on it from her library.

He’s not very good at it but you spend your afternoons teaching him and you both end up giggling and laughing at his attempts. By the end of the night you’re both crashed on the couch after watching movies.

He loves to take you outside to see the reservoir and windmill where you write little messages to each other on the snow.

Karl Heisenberg

When Karl first learnt that you’d be sent to his factory by order of Mother Miranda he was furious that he’d have to babysit you.

He ignores you at first, not even looking at you as he left you in some room of the factory with the door locked behind him.

One day after a fight with Alcina he comes bashing through what’s slowly become your bedroom of sorts. His fist collides with the metal countertop leaving a dent in it as metal shards rattle around the room.

“If that bitch humiliates me one more time at a family meeting i’ll hit her with my hammer!”

He looks at you and notices the startled look on your face from having to dodge all the metal now flying around the room until it drops to the floor. Karl looking at you with a sheepish face, upset with himself that he scared you.

“Sorry about that…”

Karl spends more time with you after that, showing you around his factory and telling you all his elaborate plans to bring down Miranda and vent about his sister after he realised you were a good listener.

In fact he started to realise that you were almost too much of a good listener… and that you had never once spoken to him.

He didn’t even know you name and that frustrated him beyond all means.

While he was still confused at your behaviour, he couldn’t bring himself to hate it as you grew closer with each passing day.

Sometimes his favourite thing to do is to sit with you in his living quarters, sitting on the couch with his head in your lap as your fingers brush through his hair.

It’s there where he’ll talk to you for hours about everything and nothing at all. Just happy to have someone in his life.

He’s comforted by the fact that you’re mute because you don’t judge him, your actions towards him always soft and warming.

He’s never had someone who could be there for him emotionally and physically, and he loves that you show him how much you love him by the little gestures like cuddling, playing with his hair and holding his head in your hands.

[nochickensinoz]

Dear New Year 12s

As someone going into their- fingers crossed- final year of A levels, I feel like I’m in a good position to play the big sister role and offer some advice and support for any sixth form newbies as I really struggled in those first few months and want to help lighten the load for anyone I can.

Like I said, I really struggled those first few months. I spent the first two weeks of year 12 crying, fighting off anxiety attacks during lessons, and threatening to drop out, but my parents (one of which didn’t go to sixth form, the other one having returned to education after being expelled from college) told me to stick it out. And I did. I grew closer to who is now my best friend- that’s a little rude of me, I’m very lucky to say I have two beautiful best friends I love very much- and our friendship helped give me the confidence I needed to be a much more active part of my school’s community.

So, point one. Try to stick at it.

The first two weeks are going to be difficult, especially if, like me, you’re in a new school with maybe one or two of your old friends (or none at all). But once you’ve done those two weeks, you can make it to half term, and once you make it to half term, why not make it to Christmas, and now that you’ve made it to Christmas, you’re halfway there- why not finish the year?

Sixth form won’t be for everyone, and that’s ok. I’ve had friends drop out or change schools and there’s no shame in it. But for some people, taking it that day, week, month, term at a time will solve (almost) everything.

Just note, there’s no real way to “make new friends”. The best thing you can do is stay open minded and maybe try being an active member of your classes; I made most of my friends through the discussions and debates we had in lesson, then we carried on talking once the bell went! But for those of us who are more shy, my now best friend was the extrovert who picked me out of the soggy ‘free introverts’ box. Sometimes you just have to let these things happen, sometimes you have to throw yourself in at the deep end.

Once I made my first friend- I’ll call them Goblin for this post- I had someone to share this turbulent time with, to sit with at lunch, to hide behind when all this change was changing too quickly. One of the most important things we did together was taking part in the sixth form pantomime. Now I didn’t just have a friend, but a community of people I routinely met with to participate in something I loved and was passionate about.

Being a drama student, I was roped into one or two after school clubs, it did me a world of good and helped me come out of both my dramatic and social shell. It doesn’t have to be stage-ish, but if you’re having trouble meeting people or finding a place to call home, try out a few clubs- You’re much more likely to meet like minded people, plus you’ll be practically engaging with your interests.

As an anxious student, I find it very difficult to cope in classroom environments, let alone new classroom environments. But I have a few tricks up my sleeve to help me when it gets too much:

Sit as close to the exit as possible. In some cases, you might want to sit closer to your teacher so if you need to get out you’re not shouting it from across the room, but I like sitting next to doors as it makes me feel less trapped.

Take it five minuets at a time. You have an hour long lesson? That’s just five minuets twelve times; 30 minuets is 5 minuets six times, and so on.

When are your free periods? Technically you’re meant to use them to get work done, but I spent a lot of mine either at home or decompressing somewhere I felt safe and comfortable (AKA karaoke in the drama studio with Goblin). That essay can be finished in a few hours, but it takes much longer to heal yourself from burnout.

Let your teachers know. The worst thing you can do is suffer in silence and as awkward as you may feel doing it, you have to speak up for your needs. Your education is important and you won’t learn anything if you spend all lesson trying to remember what an inhale feels like.

To elaborate on point 4, this is how you do it. Firstly, email all your teachers- or ask your school’s counselor or head of student welfare to- and tell them how you may need a different kind of support in school and what they can do to help. Instead of wordlessly skipping the lesson, email your teacher or write them a note for a classmate to pass on. Tell them how you feel and ask if they can email you the work covered in lesson or any research or reading that needs doing so you can do it outside of class. If you’re not feeling well during a lesson, because of those handy dandy emails you sent out at the start of the year, just ask your teachers if you can finish your work in a separate room, or tell them you need a timeout. Alevels are SOO different from GCSE, you are a grown up now and your teachers should treat you like one.

If all else fails, ask to go to the loo and come back once the lesson is over/ visit the aforementioned counselor-type professional when you’re meant to be in the loo/ just tell the teacher you need to see the counselor-type person and they should let you go.

This is probably the most important point of all. Speak up and ask for help. This is one of the hardest stages of your academic year, you have to lose every ounce of pride you have and ask every stupid question you need answered, you need to force your teachers and school staff to give you what you need to succeed- politely, of course. Maybe you don’t have any close friends to open up to, maybe you can’t turn to your family or guardians in a time of need, but you're in school now, so you have teachers and a multitude of services at your disposal. I talked about school counsellors/ heads of welfare, they’re a great place to go and I’ve never known of a sixth form or college that doesn’t have at least one. Honestly, I’m the reason my school’s head of student welfare is being paid- or at least I was :p.

You can turn to these staff members for anything and they are literally paid to give you 100% of their available time and effort and trained to know what to do, no matter the circumstance.

As well as this, there are options such as online counselling and websites such as Kooth, and for situations that may be a little more dire, you can always call Childline at 08001111.

It may seem scary at first, but you have to think long term when it comes to seeking help, your future self will thank you for it.

Now onto the lighter stuff.

Organisation. Bloody organisation. Every student has what works best for them and every teacher thinks they know what’s best for their students. I was doing back bends for one teacher in particular and all I got out of it was more bother. You’re going to have teachers that just hate your guts for no reason. She’s mine.

This is my preferred method of organising work:

Notebooks: for taking notes in lesson

Folders: for the mountain of paper that’s going to get dumped onto you

Here’s how I like to organise my folders (remember, this doesn’t work for everyone, but this is what I find easiest):

Purple: the basic outline. Red: a real-life example (my Literature folder)

The Folder

for subject: English Lit

overarching topic

19th Centuary Literature

a section for homeworks

e.g. essays

a section titled ‘general’

where I’d keep wider reading/research, sheets providing info on the topic (not modules), etc

module within the topic

A Play, by Playwrite

module within the topic

Poetry, by Poet

And so on.

Instead for my drama lessons, I organise my work by information rather than topic, for example:

General (dramatic technique, lantern types, etc)

Homeworks

Live theatre analysis

Practitioners

Script work

Set text 1

So on.

For Year 13, I also have seperate folders exclusively for coursework.

For revision, I have three folders for each subject where all my revision resources are stored, which leads me onto my next point.

REVISE EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE AN UPCOMING EXAM. Once you learn a topic, it will not be returned to. Your teachers will expect you to know the content you have been taught- this is why it’s so important to ask questions and seek out support as soon as you need it.

My top tip: once you’ve finished a topic, make your revision resources immediately and start practising while it's in your head.

In my GCSE years, all I’d do to revise was go over some flash cards, rewrite some notes, saunter away with a scattering of 8s and a pat on the head. Sixth form humbled me, quickly. So here’s how I revise now.

Flashcards. They’re a classic and brilliant for practising active recall. They work for everything; equations to chapter summaries, keywords to historic figures.

You can’t go wrong with a bit of active recall, here’s a YouTube video I found especially helpful on making flashcards: https://youtu.be/6HXJrfddvIE

Origami posters. Don’t worry, it’s not actual origami. This method is much better for reframing notes than recall, but it’s no less important.

Take an A4/3 piece of paper and write everything on a mini topic on one side (e.g. Hamlet, Act 1)

Fold it in half, condense the full page of notes into a spider diagram, or similar

Fold it in half again, now you have a booklet. On the back, write out all the keywords for the mini topic, on the front write the title (e.g. Hamlet Act 1)

Knowledge flowchart. This is another means of organising notes. The best way to explain this one is probably to show you the end product, but I’ll try my best to explain it too.

Take a plain piece of paper and write your topic title at the top.

Draw an arrow from the topic and write down the core of that topic- for example, for ‘Theravada Buddhism’, I’d start with the Three Marks of Existence. Then, elaborate on that, and elaborate again, and (especially if you’re making notes on Buddhism) you will soon find you’ve explained everything by explaining one thing in detail.

Here’s one I made earlier:

Blurting. Blurting is a great way to see how much you’ve absorbed from your flashcards, posters, etc. Put a timer on, take a blank sheet of paper and write down everything you could possibly remember on your topic of choice. Once the timer is up, use your notes and write down points you missed/ got wrong in a different colour- these are the things you now need to work on more closely.

Here’s a helpful video on blurting: https://youtu.be/CgrCo1J9A44

Some additional revision tips:

Make a timetable

Maybe you have after school clubs, maybe you just need some down time, my top tip for any form of time management is to write down what you’re doing when. For example, I go back to my dad’s on a Monday, so I usually get home a little later, I’m usually a bit tired, so I plan ahead of time so I can take it easy on a Monday- maybe do 30 minutes on one topic and get some homework out of the way. Some Mondays I was tired, so I’d go over one topic of flashcards (something is better than nothing). On Wednesdays however, I had a lot more time after school, so I might do two subjects in an hour, an hour on homework, and finish off the evening going over my lines for an upcoming performance.

Planning ahead of time is great as it limits decision paralysis and therefore procrastination, meaning you can fit in all your leisure activities on top of assignments and revision.

It is important, however, to make sure you’re not overworking yourself, if the information isn’t going in, nothing will come out. Best way to avoid this would be the Pomodoro Technique, which I’ll leave a video link to here: https://youtu.be/mNBmG24djoY

Create a good study environment

No matter what the aesthetic student vloggers may imply with their cinematic shots of perfectly calligraphied notes and lemon water, low lighting such as lamps or candle light (vampire wannabes) will make you feel sleepy and you. will. not. learn.

The best revision environment in my opinion would be:

A clear desk or table (even if you dump everything onto your bed, as long as your work space is clear, so is your head)

A chair you can sit comfortably in

A well lit room of about the right temperature (smother yourself in hoodies if you must, or the opposite)

Water, or similarly boring drink, to hand

Things that meet your sensory needs (music, stim toys, blue tack)

A note on this: I cannot function without background noise, so I listen to lofi music while doing school work, but I only listen to it while doing school work. This means I associate lofi music with productivity, so it puts me in the right mindset. I wouldn’t recommend listening to anything with lyrics however as this may muddle your thoughts.

Here is a link to a playlist of classical music I’m especially fond of: https://youtu.be/idJoHeHPrXA

And some background noise too: https://youtu.be/DLqkt4F0anA

Make sure everything you need is within reach, having to get up and down for stationary and textbooks is going to break your flow (I also recommend going to the loo before revising for this very reason)

To finish off the section, here are some videos I’ve found helpful for revision tips:

ASAPscience study tips https://youtu.be/p60rN9JEapg

Essay writing https://youtu.be/liyFKUFCQno

Making the most of your textbooks https://youtu.be/nqYmmZKY4sA

Active recall techniques https://youtu.be/1b9YRuifyYw

What study style suits you? https://youtu.be/cErgMJSgpv0

As well as textbooks and what you cover in class, there’s loads of helpful online resources too, don’t be afraid to check them out- and don’t be afraid to check your sources either.

Some general tips:

If your teacher gives you feedback, eat it up, absorb it like a sponge.

Do your homework/ assignments/ catch-up work/ whatever as sooon as you possibly can (as soon as it’s set is preferable). You do NOT want work to pile up.

Try to find a routine.

Use Year 12 as an opportunity to find what works best for you, apply it as soon as you figure it out.

If in doubt, jeans and a tshirt/jumper won’t get you dress coded (in most cases).

All this being said, the best thing you can do to maximise your time is to find what works for you, stick with it, and ask for help. You’re going to find this tricky, but that means you’re doing it right. Don’t be afraid of being wrong, in lessons and in life.

Obviously I’m no expert, but I wanted to share my experience, tips, and tricks with you so hopefully you’re given a head start and don’t feel as rubbish as I did in the beginning. Sixth form is now my happy place, and I hope it becomes a sanctuary for you too.

Like I said, I’m no professional, but if any of you need a big sister, I have left my messages open.

I wish you the best in your first year of A levels <3

[bigteefsmallbrain]

General Soul Eater HCs please

Soul Eater: General headcanons

Death the Kid:

He’s an art critic

Hear me out

He is obsessed with symmetry, and loves the beauty in it

So when he sees something non-symmetrical, especially in art, he can’t help but to critique it

May go as far as to send a personal letter to the artist (If they’re alive) about how offensive it is that they created something so asymmetrical

If he can’t send a letter to the artist, he’ll send one to the owner/museum and request it be taken down, while listing reasons why it’s horrible.

Anything he writes has an even amount of letters and words

Be that his test answers

Essays

Letters

Diary entry

Speaking of diary entries, he definitely has one

But it’s actually just a catalogue of symmetrical things he’s seen

He puts photos into it and writes about how beautiful it was to see

He doesn’t care what it is much, just that it was beautiful

Meaning he takes photos of people too

Which can be unnerving at times

He’s probably taken a photography class before, or at the very least is self taught

Literally has a photo album of things he views are beautiful, but non symmetrical and he would die if anyone found it

Like a particular sunset with uneven hills

Or a flower with one too many petals

Definitely has an 8 ball, not a magic one, just an 8 ball, it’s placed on a velvet pillow in his room and he frequently polishes it

Elizabeth Thompson:

Makes several backup plans as a way to cope

Especially after dealing with an experience with a ghost

She has notebooks full of them, labeled and detailed

At one point she started putting them in alphabetical order but stopped immediately when she realized Kid’s perfectionist habits were rubbing off on her

She practices acting in the mirror

Usually so she can charm a man into dating her

But also to con people

She used to be a “Street rat” and that thought of ending up on the streets again constantly plagues her mind

She takes full advantage of the “Rich life”

Shopping sprees

Quality makeup

Salons and spa days

The works

She lets Patty’s thought that she knows everything get to her head

The fact alone that her sister believes in her that much is enough to make her a bit egotistical

And Patty’s admiration for the girl makes it ten times worse

She literally doesn’t care if she ends up being wrong because she’ll just be right next time anyways

So stubborn in that aspect

Patricia Thompson:

She likes dark humor

You can’t convince me otherwise, you actually can’t, I have evidence

She made an origami Giraffe, and broke its neck

Laughed when Kid said he “wants to die”

She literally pokes him with a stick when he’s depressed

She likes dark humor, and probably looks up jokes to tell others just for kicks

She’s secretly sadistic, and likes scaring her sister and others

She may act naïve and innocent, but she is anything but

She definitely has, more than once, banged on Liz’s door at 3AM just to hear her sister squeal like a little girl

Honestly, she probably purposefully gets their pose wrong, just to see her sisters annoyance and laugh when Kid gets smacked

She likes origami

Probably first got into it because of the paper ninja stars

Then just found it relaxing

She most likely makes the ninja stars mostly, and keeps a box of her origami creations somewhere

Has in the past, and will not hesitate to do so again, beat someone up for kicks or just to destress

Patty has two faces, the childlike innocent one, and the insane anger one

So it’s not too far fetched to say that she’ll hide her anger till she can corner someone alone and beat them up

Or that she gets bored and decides to do so

I wouldn’t be too surprised if her sister occasionally joined as well

Maka Albarn:

She’s a Harry Potter nerd and you can’t convince me otherwise

She loves the concept of magic

Loves the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, though feels a bit of Deja vu thinking about it

Probably used to write fanfiction, but in a way that made it seem like it was actually part of the story

She will hit you if you mention it

Definitely the type to compare books to their movie counterparts

Not in like, a critic way, but she will definitely rant about the differences, or how a character looks exactly like she imagined, or if they didn’t put in a particular scene she liked in the book

Forces Soul into movie nights, but it’s only the movie counterparts to her books

I can see her forcing everyone into a group study session

Be super organized about it, and setting it up in a way so that no one can refuse

She probably has specific ways for everyone to study

Like having Black☆Star work out while studying so he retains the knowledge better

Or setting up the session in a symmetrical way so Kid doesn’t freak out about it

She writes letters to her mom, as a coping mechanism for when her emotions get to be a little too much

Like when she’s having a bad day

Or if she’s particularly peeved at something Soul did

She writes a lot more letters when it comes around the time of her mom's birthday or death anniversary

She likes the thought of an old timey romance, and often listens to songs that give off that kind of feel

She really likes “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, it’s one of her favorites

She also likes the old Disney songs, like “Once Upon a Dream” and “So This Is Love”

She would be so embarrassed if anyone found out though, especially if it was her dad or Soul

She isn’t quite sure why she’s so worried about Soul finding out though

Speaking of, she half realizes, half doesn’t with anyone's romantic feelings, including her own

She’ll fantasize about getting a love letter or having someone present her with a bouquet of roses

But if it actually happens she’s like “Oh, thanks friend!”

She knows the behaviors, she just can’t put two and two together

They would have to be extremely blunt, no over dramatic confession, just “I’m in love with you and want to be romantically involved with you”

She reads dictionaries for fun

She really likes to read out of date dictionaries, just to see what words and slang existed back then

She also highlights words she likes and uses them frequently on accident

She has most definitely yelled “I have cupid’s kettlebells*! I’m not flat!” at Soul before

Soul Evans:

Bottles. Up. His. Emotions.

He’s influenced by “toxic masculinity” and fully believes that being vulnerable in a serious way “isn’t cool”

He will bottle everything up so deep down inside that it seems impossible for it to surface

Feelings of inferiority to others? Bottled

Want to cry or break down? Nope, gotta be cool

Started crying in front of someone and can’t stop? He’s not crying, you’re clearly blind

Speaking of crying, once he starts, and I mean genuinely starts, it’s so hard to get him to calm down, and even then the tears don’t stop

Sometimes he’ll start to freak out and send himself into a panic attack because the tears just won’t stop

He’s that influenced by the thought of being vulnerable

On a lighter note, he does adore playing the piano, but the only person he’ll play for is Maka

He swears it’s not favoritism, and it’s partially true, but favoritism does play a large role in it

He frequently drags Maka to his room to show her a new piece he put together

And if he notices her feeling a little down that day, he’ll start playing a song that he knows she likes

He definitely knows about her love for old timey romance songs and is very embarrassed to admit a lot of the pieces he constructs are based off of that

The walls are p a p e r t h i n , he can hear her music through the walls

He secretly finds it adorable when he catches her listening to it because she’ll be dancing around to it

He also frequently finds himself thinking about those moments

He’s the stereotype that parents tell little girls about, with how boys will bully their crush

He’s a lot more playful and easy going, but still teases Maka, so much

Unlike Maka, he’s fully aware of his feelings, and acknowledges them, but bottles it up, only letting himself entertain the thought every once in a while

He jabs at Maka’s lack of “Cupids Kettlebells” as a way to try and ensure she won’t fall for him, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does

He reads the same dictionaries that Maka does, not for fun, but so he can know just what the actual h e l l she’s saying

More than once he’s had to look up a particular word or phrase online because he can’t find it in the dictionary

“What the hell? It’s an old Victorian saying!? Where does she keep finding this stuff!?”

Subconsciously, as time goes on, he starts using old phrases as well, he was so embarrassed the first time he got caught saying “Keep your idle daddles* off of her!” when defending someone from a perv.

Black☆Star:

Is so unbelievably selfish with food

It’s not even funny

He will stab someone if they reach for his food

He surprisingly eats healthy most of the time though?

Says something like “I have to otherwise I’ll never surpass the gods!”

The only person who could ever p o s s i b l y steal his food is Tsubaki, but even that’s pushing it

He has the weirdest dreams, and I mean weird

Dreams like being turned into a potato and being cooked, mashed, and devoured by Tsubaki herself

He didn’t talk to her for a week after that dream, and refused to eat potatoes for a full year because “You never know if it could be a person turned into a potato!”

He was also very offended when Tsubaki ate potatoes during that time period

He takes things very literally

Like up above, if someone does something in a dream, he acts like it was real

Or if someone makes a joke about fighting, he will drag them outside to fight

He’s secretly scared of Tsubaki

But it’s for literally the stupidest reason

And he fully believes that because of it she could fight god and win

She used to have a pet cockroach

One of the flying ones

And he is so unbelievably scared of them, because for some reason they just don’t die, and they have w i n g s

So the fact she owned one as a pet scares him so bad even though it was literally for only a week

He has a soft spot for children

He doesn’t really know why

He just does

Is secretly really good with kids

Literally the definition of dad material

He has his flaws but still

Little kids are the only people who could steal his food and get away with it

Every. Time. and it makes the others so mad

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

What can I say, she’s perfect

She probably receives love letters

Reads them over when she’s feeling sad

Likes to keep them in a shoebox she painted

She definitely paints to unwind and relax

Likes to go outside and paint the sunrise/sunset

Takes note of beautiful scenery so she can come back in her free time and paint it

She probably draws/sketches too

Carries a sketchbook with her

More than likely has drawn Black☆Star doing something

Like napping or training

She’d never show him though, too scared of inflating his ego or giving him the wrong idea

Stress bakes/cooks

We know she cooks

Liz took advantage of it and pretended Tsubaki’s cooking was her own

So we know she does

Sometimes painting/drawing doesn’t cut it

So she heads to the kitchen and bakes away her worries and unwinds

The main reason Tsubaki would possibly be spared from Black☆Star’s stabbing habit with food is because she cooks all the meals

She makes sure everyone is comfortable around her

She’ll go as far as to learn someone's customs and practice cooking their unique cuisine just to make sure that they feel comfortable and safe in her presence

She radiates mom friend energy

She’s perfect mom material, perfect wife material, perfect in general honestly

*Cupid's Kettlebells is a old term for a woman's bust

*Idle daddles is a old term for hands

I Hope you like these general headcanons for the main seven! You didn’t say which characters you’d like to see, so I played it safe by putting the main characters! Thank you for the ask!

[theoutcastedartist]

Give us all you animaniacs hcs (especially the lgbtq+ ones)((please))

Oh man I have so many to tell asfhjahsbsb I'm gonna leave out some of the more darker HC I have for this show (well technically, they are wildly-outlandish theories about where the Warner trio was for those 20+ years before the current time of the reboot, just gonna exclude those for now)

Ight imma start with the lgbtq+ headcannons first

Wakko: Nonbinary (Uses He/Them Pronouns)

Dot : Trans (Uses She/Her pronouns) and Pan

Yakko : Bi and Ace (Biromantic I believe it's called? Please correct me if I'm wrong on that)

On an unrelated note, Yakko is a whole mood

lmao look at my tiny clown-faced-puppy disaster son being the dramatic Bi-Ace icon he is when he's basically about to "die"

If you ever asked my younger siblings, they would tell you that I would 100% do the same shit, maybe even start singing "Little Miss Perfect" out of pure spite

Who knew me, as the oldest of a sibling trio would relate to the oldest of another sibling trio

ANYWHO BACK TO HEADCANNON STUFF BECAUSE YES

Oh man lemme start with Yakko HCs because he's the character I project so much on to nowadays:

Yakko

All his senses are very sensitive compared to the other two, sometimes he'll get really overwhelmed by bright lights, strong flavors, loud noise, etc... he feels like he's being dumb everytime he has a problem with anything regarding his senses.

Lights and noise: Sometimes it just gets too much for him if he's exposed to constant loud noise and bright lights to the point where he'll start crying or yelling (especially if noise is the main problem) out of stress from it.

Strong flavors: He will visibly shudder in response to a very strong and very noticable flavor. He honestly prefers to eat blander foods over savory dishes. With that being said, he hates spicy food with a burning passion.

Very unwilling to go to someone for help or comfort when he's genuinely having a crisis over how he views himself. If anything, he's will try to do literally almost anything to avoid having that sort of conversation, especially with Dr. Scratchansniff.

He will however go to Dr. Scratchansniff or another trusted adult for advice if he needs help for how to take care of his siblings or just for general advice on stuff.

He hates being picked up or hugged with zero warning.

The only people who he doesnt mind doing this are Wakko and Dot, of course. If anyone else tries it though, he'll bite them and yes, this includes Dr. Scratchansniff as well. He may be the closest thing to them as a parental figure (in the 90's show at least), but he's not in the same close knit circle Yakko is in with Wakko and Dot.

His main hobby is drawing, it's his go to coping mechanism if he's not up to cracking a joke(while he's in the watertower) as well.

He needs glasses/wears contacts (ones made specifically for toons I guess)

Prefers reading books over watching anything on TV/electronic devices in general.

If either or both of his siblings can't sleep, he'll sing them a lullaby 💕

Off-set/off-screen/ outside of the recording for animaniacs Yakko usually wears these thick, oversized hoodies, and he will refuse to take it off.

This is because Yakko feels really weird and off when his arms aren't covered(sometimes there is this random phantom ache in his arms that just wont go away until he covers them. It's not like painful, painful, but just really annoying at times.) Even if it's hot as hell outside, he will not take it off. Wakko and Dot usually have to wrestle to get it off him, otherwise Yakko will faint/have a heat stroke. They make a compromise by agreeing to Yakko wearing long sleeves, so long as they're made out of light material.

If he needs caffeine to "wake up" but is too damn tired to do so, Yakko will not hesitate to just straight-up eat pure coffee beans.

Wakko

For anything else, he does not mind eating food with very strong flavors, he actually enjoys spicy food (the spicier, the better), but for cereal they prefer the blandest one. Bland food is comforting to him (also doesnt want his brother to feel bad about not liking a lot of the savory foods he and Dot like)

Doesnt have much of a problem expressing himself. If he genuinely feels bad about something regarding themself, he wont hesitate to go to Yakko (sometimes he'll go to Dot if she happens to be there first, but 95% of the time he'll go to Yakko)

They actually likes being picked up and carried, but only by family and close friends. Any stranger who tries to pick him up will receive angry claw marks to the face.

Main hobby is composing music (instumentals). They will let Yakko or Dot write lyrics if they're feeling sad or bored (or as a sibling bonding activity too)

Favorite TV show is the Looney Tunes (classic cartoons)

He gives comfort to his sibs by just being there for them as a shoulder to cry on.

They don't like having their hat off for an extended period of time often. It's a source of comfort and his way of expressing his identity.

Is the one who usually has to stop Yakko from eating bare coffee beans when he's too tired to actually make coffee.

Dot

She's pretty in the middle when it comes to food.

If it's a minor thing, she'll usually just talk to Wakko about it. If it's something more serious, she'll go to Yakko about it.

She only let's Yakko and Wakko touch her or carry her. Outside of those two, she only let's Dr. Scratchansniff carry her. For anyone else, she will clobber anyone who makes an attempt to do so. She just really hates it when if comes to anyone else.

Main hobbies are sewing and designing clothes. She'll have her siblings model her clothes for her (they are very eager to do so everytime). It provides a good distraction for either Yakko or Wakko if they're down or frustrated about something. It's just super fun.

Really loves (well-made) action movies, it's like her favorite genre of movies.

Gives comfort by providing her siblings with soft materials (like blankets or pillows). She'll drape herself over either of them to provide a comforting pressure.

She expresses herself through her iconic pink skirt and flower scrunchie. Both are her favorite articles of clothing because her siblings were the ones who got them for her. (Yakko sewed the pink skirt; he was the one to teach Dot how to sew 💕)

She's a last resort to stopping Yakko from eating the coffee beans raw.

Original vs. Reboot headcannons

The original 1990's show is more "On-stage", having for educational songs and skits, whereas the 2020 Reboot/revival is more "Off-Stage" with the occasional show skit, hence any inconsistencies with the characters' personalities, especially Yakko.

Both shows take place in the same type of setting as "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" (The idea of cartoons existing as real entities alongside humans; I got a lot of WFRR vibes during Sufferage City with the whole "Cartoon Rights" part especially)

Well that's about as much as I can write for now, I have more headcannons of course, but I found this to be a good place to stop.

These are just my personal headcannons of the Warner Trio, I don't really have any for Pinky and the Brain, but I wanna know what some of your guy's headcannons are for any aspect of the shows!

[dangermousie]

Heelo mousie! Love your blog! Do you mind recommending some of your favourite Chinese BL novels or shows?

I've seen the untamed and read it. I'm currently reading heaven's official blessing and I saw the donghua. Anything other than these two?

Awww, thank you!

Novels: I am gonna be lazy and literally copy/paste the entire danmei section of my top 10 web novels post (except MXTX’s stuff since you are already reading it.) Let me know if you need help finding any of these.

Lord Seventh - I am only partway through this so far, but it’s already on the list because it’s smart and somehow intense AND laid-back (not sure how this works, but it does) and is honestly just a really really solid and smart period novel, with the OTP a cherry on top of a narrative sundae. Plus, I love the concept of MC deciding he is not going for his supposedly fated love - he’s tried for six lifetimes, always with disaster, and he’s just plain done and tired. When he opens his life in his seventh reincarnation and sees the person he would have given up the world for, he genuinely feels nothing at all. (Spoiler - his OTP is actually a barbarian shaman this time around, thank you Lord!)

Golden Stage - my perfect comfort novel. Probably the least angsty of any danmei novel on this list (which still means plenty angsty :P) It also has a dedicated, smart OTP that is an OTP for the bulk of the book - I think you will notice that in most of the novels in this list, I go for “OTP against the world” trope - I can’t stand love triangles and the same. Anyway, Fu Shen, is a famous general whose fame is making the emperor   antsy. When he gets injured and can’t walk any more, the emperor gladly recalls him and marries him off to his most faithful court lackey, the head of sort of secret police, Yan Xiaohan. The emperor intends it both  as a check on the general and a general spite move since the two men   always clash in court whenever they meet. But not all is at is seems. They used to be  friends a long time ago, had a falling out, and one of the loveliest  parts of the novel is them finding their way to each other, but there is  also finding the middle path between their two very different  philosophies and ways of being, not to mention solving a conspiracy or  dozen, and putting a new dynasty on the throne, among other things. It always makes me think, a little, of “if Mei Changsu x Jingyan were canon.”

Sha Po Lang - if you like a lot of fantasy politics and world-building and steampunk with your novels, this one is for you. This one is VERY plot-heavy with smart, dedicated characters and a deconstruction of many traditional virtues - our protagonist Chang Geng, a long-lost son of the Emperor, is someone who wants to modernize the country but also take down the current emperor his brother for progress’ sake and the person he’s in love with is the general who saved him when he was a kid who is nominally his foster father. Anyway, the romance is mainly a garnish in this one, not even a big side dish, but the relationship between two smart, dedicated, deadly individuals with very different concepts of duty is fascinating long before it turns romantic. And if you like angst, while overall it’s not as angsty as e.g., Meatbun stuff, Chang Geng’s childhood is the stuff of nightmares and probably freaks me out more than anything else in any novel on this list, 2ha included.

To Rule In a Turbulent World (LSWW) - gay Minglan. No seriously. This is how I think of it. it’s a slice of life period novel with fascinating characters and  setting that happens to have a gay OTP, not a romance in a period  setting per se and I always prefer stories where the romance is not the only thing that is going on. It’s meticulously written and smart and deals with  character development and somehow makes daily minutia fascinating. Our   protagonist, You Miao, is the son of a fabulously wealthy merchant,   sent to the capital to make connections and study. As the story starts, he sees his friend’s  servants beating someone to death, feels bad, and buys him because, as  we discover gradually and organically, You Miao may be wealthy and  occasionally immature but he is a genuinely good person. The person he buys is a barbarian from beyond the wall, named   Li Zhifeng. It’s touch and go if the man will survive but eventually he does and You Miao, who by then has to return home, gives him his papers  and lets him go. However, LZF decides to stick with You Miao instead, both  out of sense of debt for YM saving his life and because he genuinely  likes him (and yet, there is no instalove on either of their parts, their bodies have fun a lot quicker than their souls.) Anyway, the two  take up farming, get involved in  the imperial exams and it’s the life of prosperity and peace, until an invasion happens and things go rapidly to hell. This is so nuanced, so smart (smart people in this actually ARE!) and has secondary characters who are just as complex as the mains (for example, I ended up adoring YM’s friend, the one who starts the plot by almost beating LZF to death for no reason) because the novel never forgets that few people are all villain. There is a lovely character arc or two - watching YM grow up and LZF thaw - there is the fact that You Miao is a unicorn in web novels being laid back and calm. This whole thing is a masterpiece.

Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - want the emotional hit of 2ha but want to read something half its length? Well, the author of 2ha is here to eviscerate you in a shorter amount of time. This has the beautiful world-building, plot twists that all make sense and, at the center of it all, an intense and all-consuming and gloriously painful relationship between two generals - one aristocratic loner Mo Xi, and the other gregarious former slave general Gu Mang. Once they were best friends and lovers, but when the novel starts, Gu Mang has long turned traitor and went to serve the enemy kingdom and has now been returned and Mo Xi, who now commands the remnants of his slave army, has to cope with the fact that he has never been able to get over the man who stabbed him through the heart. Literally. This novel has a gorgeously looping structure, with flashbacks interwoven into present storyline. There is so much love and longing and sacrifice in this that I am tearing up a bit just thinking of it. If you don’t love Mo Xi and Gu Mang, separately and together, by the end of it, you have no soul.

The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha/erha) - if you’ve been following my tumblr for more than a hot second, you know my obsession with this novel. Honestly, even if I were to make a list of my top 10 novels of any kind, not just webnovels, this would be on the list. It has everything I want - a complicated, intricate plot with an insane amount of plot twists, all of which are both unexpected and make total sense, a rich and large cast of characters, a truly epic OTP that makes me bawl, emotional intensity that sometimes maxes even me out and so much character nuance and growth. Also, Moran is my favorite web novel character ever, hands down.

Anyway, the plot (or at least the way it first appears) is that the evil emperor of the cultivation world, Taxian Jun, kills himself at 32 and wakes up in the body of his 16 year old self, birth name Moran. Excited to get a redo, Moran wants to save his supposed true love Shimei, whose death the last go-around pushed him towards evil. He also wants to avoid entanglement with Chu Wanning, his shizun and sworn enemy in past life. And that’s all you are best off knowing, trust me. The only hint I am going to give is oooh boy the mother of all unreliable narrators has arrived!

The novel starts light and funny on boil the frog principle - if someone told me I would be full bawling multiple times with this novel, I’d have thought they were insane, but i swear my eyes hurt by the end of it. I started out being amused and/or disliking the mains and by the end I would die for either of them.

The Wife is First - OK, this one did not make my top 10 web novels but it’s a sweet, fun gay cottagecore fest. Our ML, a royal prince, and his spouse, a smart if delicate aristocrat, keep house, eat noodles, play with their pet tiger, make out and spoil each other rotten, while occasionally fighting battles and outwitting their court enemies. It’s so very mellow. That couple redefines low drama - they are both nice and functional and use their brains. It’s as if a nice jock and a nice nerd got together and then proceeded to be wholesome all over the place.

I mean, the set up could be dramatic - our ML the prince, lost his fight for the throne and is about to be killed. The only person who stayed loyal to him is his arranged husband the aristocrat guy who ML never treated nicely since he resented marrying him (marrying a man in that world is done to remove someone from the ability to inherit the throne.) And yet the husband stood by him not out of love but beliefs in loyalty blah blah. Anyway, he transmigrates back into the past right after their wedding night and is all “I got a second chance OMG! I don’t want the throne what is even the point? I want to live a good long life and treat the only person who stood by me really well!” And he proceeds to do so to the shock of the aristocrat who had a very unpleasant wedding night and generally can tell the man he just married would rather eat nails than be married to him. But soon enough (no seriously, it’s not many chapters at all) he believes the prince is sincere blah blah and then  they get together and they pretty much become cottagecore goals.

In terms of dramas, I only do period dramas (or novels) so I am not the person to be able to recommend any modern BLs. There is a flood of upcoming (hopefully) period BL dramas but it’s relatively thin on the ground now. The two I will recommend is Word of Honor (which is AMAZING) and Winter Begonia (which I just started watching but which owns me already.) I have a tag for both - the one for the former is huge and I cannot recommend either strongly enough. I’ve heard good things about The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I am not big on mysteries so haven’t watched it for myself.

In terms of the upcoming BLs, the ones I am most looking forward to are Immortality and Winner Is King, but The Society of the Four Leaves also looks promising.

[expatesque]

i have a confession.

to make a long story short, one of the closest friends i have i've known since high school. i had a massive crush on her then that slowly faded once we went to college. as this was happening, my priorities changed dramatically when my mom was diagnosed with cancer. then, soon after, covid hit, and for a very long time i couldn't see anyone, too afraid for my immunocompromised mother.

a few months back, my mom passed. and it's broken me, i've had such a hard time coping. for two years, she had to be the center of my universe and suddenly, my sun has gone out. in this time, my friend and i have gotten so much closer, and i think i'm beginning to fall in love with her. but it's so hard to characterize whether or not i truly am falling in love with her, or if i'm somehow trying to fill this gaping hole my mom has left behind. she's been here for me, held me at my darkest moments, and laughed with me at my highest. she's beautiful, and she doesn't deserve to have someone so unsure pining away after her.

is there anything i can do? :( much love

Oh babe, first of all I'm so sorry to hear about your mother - what a difficult loss. I agree with you that it may be best to approach this with some caution, because (with very reasonable cause) you're likely a bit messed up right now.

It is completely possible that you've fallen for your friend - after all, life isn't all split into bad and good parts and sometimes the worst and best things walk together.

It is also possible that your friend being there for you during the hardest time in your life has made everything a little fuzzy and while you really appreciate and adore her, you're not romantically in love.

But what is definitely true is that you need a some time to deal with the death of your mom.

So that is what I would you recommend you concentrate on first. If you haven't read it before, I really recommend digging through the Dear Sugar column, starting here. The writer also lost her mother at a similar time to you and I hope some of her experiences resonate.

I would give yourself a time frame, not to 'move on' from this but to help start and bookend a period of your life where you sit with your grief and allow it to be more of a focus in your life. For this, I particularly like the Jewish tradition where, as far as I understand it, the year after the death of parent is split into distinct phases where you do various things for the first 7 days, the first month, and the first year. Naturally I don't recommend you follow this tradition exactly but I like the idea of (i) giving yourself a full year of grief, where taking some time to recognize the grief is part of your daily life, and (ii) dividing that first year into stages where the time spent with grief gradually reduces. But that's just me - you should do whatever works for you, just make sure you're taking some time to let yourself really feel the grief and not focusing on 'getting over it' as fast as possible but also do try to time bound this period to help give yourself some structure.

During this time while you're with your grief, I recommend mentally setting romance off the table with your friend. You're right, your friend deserves someone who knows what they want and that isn't, and can't be, you right now. But when you've finished with your dedicated initial grieving time, and you've given your grief space so that it no longer is consuming you, you should hopefully be in a much better position to judge your feelings. And you should also be in a better position to be a romantic partner to someone. So that's what I would do: focus on yourself and your grief for a time, and revaluate romance once you're in a better place.

Good luck love, I'm in your corner.

[lilyshadowwriter]

Sims Tag Game

Rules:

Pick a sim of your choice

Tell us about them

Tag someone else (if you want to!)

I was tagged by @nocturnalazure​ to do the Sims Tag Game. Thank you so much for thinking of me! I’ll tag @lateknightsimmer​ because I want to hear more about her awesome sims, hehe ♥ Though if you don’t want to do this, feel free to ignore it, LOL.

Anyway, I’ll answer these questions for Joanne because hers is the story update I’m currently working on, so she’s the one that’s been reappearing in my posts!

Name: Joanne Madeline Winters

When is your sim’s birthday? You know, I deliberated over this for the longest, and finally I’m just going to confess that I don’t have birthdays for my sims *sweat drop* I never paid attention or thought much about it. They age up when they age up, lol. I mean, I know stuff like Joanne is older than the twins by 13 years and Milo was born at the end of summer, but ehh, other than that....I’m a bad sim mom lmao

What is your sim’s zodiac sign? Don’t know because of above

Marital Status: Married to Gabriel ♥

Does your sim have any nicknames? Pretty much everyone who knows her calls her “Jo”

Do they have a job? Yes, she’s the co-lead singer in an alternative indie duo called Convergence

Where does your sim live? On the shores of Starlight Shores

Who does your sim live with? Her husband Gabriel and their new little son, Milo

What environment did your sims grow up in? Not a great one, honestly. I went over it in more detail in Joanne’s generation recap post, but Jo’s biological mom took her own life when Jo was a baby and her dad spiraled into a bad depression that had him turning to drinking to cope. The appearance of Candice (her future step-mom) protected her from the worst of it, but still some of Joanne’s first memories are of her father passed out on the floor and Joanne crying and screaming for him to wake up :/

What is your sim’s favorite food? She likes lots of different foods really—pastas and seafood dishes though probably

What is your sim’s favorite drink? Lemonade

If they have one, what is your sim’s favorite color? Cornflower blue

Is your sim introverted or extroverted? Extroverted, though she has her shy, unsure moments

What is your sims favorite woohoo position? She likes being able to see her partner’s face in order to gauge their reactions—and kiss! :)

Is your sim a pet person? Not really, no. It’s not that she doesn’t like animals per se, but more that she doesn’t want to deal with the clean up that’s often involved with them. Dog hair all over her expensive new sofa? She’d prefer not, lol. She’s fussy like that.

Does your sim have a best friend? Her husband and her parents are her best friends, honestly, though she has become pretty close to Gabriel’s friends too now—Ryan, Dante, and Sammy.

What is / was your sim’s favorite school subject? Music

Are they planning to go or have they already been to college? She went to college and graduated with a B.A. in Music

Does your sim have a favorite TV show? No. She’s more of a casual TV watcher since committing to watching shows usually takes up a lot of time she doesn’t have. For that reason, she prefers movies.

Does your sim like books? She doesn’t hate them or anything, but she’s never been a big reader besides reading the books her dad writes

What is your sim’s personal style? A bit cutesy. She loves wearing peter pan collars, polka dots, and dresses or frilly skirts. She also loves to wear her favorite color—cornflower blue 😊

Is your sim religious? No. She has a general belief, yes, but it isn’t a big part of her life

What kind of music does your sim listen to? Pop, indie, alternative rock

What is your sim’s favorite type of weather? Sunny with a nice cool breeze!

Does your sim have a dream job? She is living her dream job ♥

Does your sim have any siblings? Yup, lots! Well, half-siblings. She has the twins, Augustus and Gemma; Tobias; and Thomas, the youngest.

Does your sim get along with their family? She does, yes. In fact, she loves them very much.

What is your sims favorite hobby? Singing and playing the piano

What does your sim look for in a romantic partner? Trustworthy, shares a love for music, makes her feel safe, gentle and accepting. Handsome helps too :)

What is a flaw your sim has? She is quite self-absorbed and often dramatic in that she has the tendency to make a bigger deal of things than they really are. She’s also sensitive to criticism, and her confidence is often shaken by a single sharp word or raised voice—but, I don’t know, that part has connections to her trauma, so...I wouldn’t blame her for that. It’s probably the self-absorption that’s her biggest flaw. She’s gotten loads better with it over the years, but she still has this tendency to feel she should be involved in everything and always paid attention to. She sometimes gets sulky when others are paid more attention than she is.

Does your sim have a greatest achievement? Starting a mega successful band with the man she loves and, of course, little Milo :)

If they have one, what is your sim’s greatest regret? Becoming so obsessed with the pursuit of fame that she lost sight of who she really was and hurt the people she loves the most, even going through a period where she didn’t speak to her family for several years. The impact of that is still felt today, and those years are gone—there’s no getting them back.

Thank you again for tagging me! ♥

[thebluestbluewords]

Soulmates Aren’t Just Lovers, You Know (chapter 2!! It’s on ao3 now!! For real!!)

(malvie, ~4000 words, pre-relationship h/c, cw for mental health issues including non-explicit references to suicide and a lot of sad bits before the actual comfort)

When Mal wakes up again, there are a hell of a lot more people in her room.

Oh, fuck no. This is not some-- some kind of family meeting bullshit. She is so not down for that. Sometimes a girl just has to have a breakdown on her own, and it’s not anybody else’s business what she does when she’s in the throes of panic after having what might be the worst day of her entire life up to this point. Maybe the worst day period, if Mal has her way with it.

“Hey, Mal.” Evie says. “Good morning.”

Mal lets her eyes flicker over to the open window.

“Well, uh, it’s more like nighttime, actually.” Evie says. “But it’s the thought that counts. I brought you dinner, if that helps?”

She holds out a box from the dining hall.

Mal doesn’t want to sit up and eat dinner and pretend like she’s a real person. She wants to lay here forever until her bones rot and her flesh melts to the bed and she’s left as a discarded husk of a person.

“It’s those fancy potato pockets?” Evie offers, shaking the box a little bit. “And I think there’s dessert?”

Mal sits up. It feels like there’s a weight where her spine should be, but she manages it. “You think?” she asks. “You don’t even know what you got for me?”

Evie has the decency to flush. “When I said I got you dinner, what I meant is that dinner has been summoned for you, and I helped.” she says arily. “It was not meant to be taken literally.”

Mal reaches out for the box. “So, what you’re saying is, the boys brought me dinner.”

Evie nods, sharp. “Yes.”

“We got you apple cake.” Carlos offers. “But if you want something else we have the door code for the freezer.”

Of course they do. Mal knows that. She was there, she’s pretty sure, when they followed one of the assistant cooks around until they could watch her put the code in and take the knowledge for themselves. She’s definitely been there when they’ve gone into the main freezer before, not just the little student one. They don’t keep the raspberry popsicles in the student freezer. She knows this.

“You are….a menace to society.” Mal says, taking the box. It’s still warm. A little bit damp on the bottom, condensation from the warm food inside. It’s weird, to think that it’s been this easy all along. Just come to Auradon, and you can have all the hot food you want. No bartering, no threatening for it. No knives involved at all for the good little kiddies in princess school. Wouldn’t want them to get hurt, finding food for themselves. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to the precious little royal brats.

Anger might not be the right emotion, but it’s something other than empty, so Mal’s going to take what she can get.

Evie is kind enough to wait until Mal has one potato pocket in her mouth and another one in her hand before she speaks.

“So,” Evie starts, and Mal spits her potato thing out so that she can cut her off right there, because no, it doesn’t matter that the boys are in her room, or that Evie went to the effort of tracking them down and making them bring her dinner, this is not a family meeting and Mal is not going to sit here and listen to more people tell her that she’s doing everything wrong.

“No.” Mal snaps, and picks up her only-slightly-damaged dinner again. “We’re not talking about it.”

Evie sighs, dramatically. “No right back at you. We have to talk about this.”

“We don’t!” Mal says, around her mouthful of potato pocket. Fuck, but these things are good.  “We can just pretend like it never happened, and I can go back to--”

Evie interrupts her. “To being miserable all the time and not telling us?” she asks. “That’s what you want to happen?”

Ugh.

Mal flings an arm out, gesturing to the room, where her stylish little backpack is hanging up, where her princess-appropriate shoes are resting on their little white rack in the corner, where her-- okay, where her clothes are still in piles all over the floor and her textbooks for her science classes are sitting unopened on the desk but that’s fine. That’s normal. Everyone has weeks where their room is a mess, that’s why they have a cleaning staff to come around and do the things that the students are too busy to do themselves. It’s not Mal being lazy, it’s her adjusting. To this brave new world. Of. Being a spoiled rich brat.

Anyway.

“To coping!” Mal shouts, mad at herself and not-- just, so not ready to touch that one yet. “I’m coping. It’s fine. I’m just having a rough adjustment, that’s all. It’s hard, learning all of this new Auradon--stuff.”

“I don’t think you are,” Evie says, gently. “Coping is what we did months ago, when we were figuring out how to get through classes, and how to find sunscreen, and all of that. This kind of feels like, well.”

Ugh. “What.” Mal demands. “Spit it out.”

“Like you’re struggling.”

Oh. That’s-- yeah. That’s pretty obvious. Adjusting to the restrictions of school, to all of the times where back home Mal could go and do what she wanted and now she has to go to class and turn things in and speak in turn and not use her hands and sit up straight and share her things and--

It’s a lot. She’s been working on it.

“Sure.” Mal says, because it’s pretty fucking obvious that she’s putting in the effort. If she ends every day so tired she could cry and wakes up with sandpaper where her eyelids should be, that just means she’s working really hard at doing everything right. “Coping, struggling, whatever. I’ll get through it. It’s fine.”

“Mal, I don’t think it is fine.” says Evie. She looks--

Mal sticks another potato thing in her mouth instead of thinking about it. Emotions are overrated anyway.

Evie sighs again. “Some of the things you were saying, it feels like you aren’t happy here.”

“I--” Mal stutters. Stop. Breathe. “I--”

She’s not happy. Anyone with eyes to look at her right now, hiding pathetically in the bed of a girl who she wouldn’t even talk to a year and half ago, could see that. Mal’s pretty sure the lack of feeling that swallows her up sometimes isn’t the same thing as being unhappy, though. It’s the absence of happiness, not the presence of unhappiness. It’s fine. Survivable. She’s supposed to feel grateful, she knows that. She can show her best smile for the cameras, usually, and tell anyone within earshot how grateful she is for the chance to leave the island, and it’s not even a lie, most of the time. It’s awful being here, and it was awful being there, but at least it’s been a different kind of awful, and that’s got to be worth something.

Mal can convince herself, most of the time, that it’s better to be here. Better to be warm and dry and fed and miserable, than to be cold and starving and interested in her own life.

It’s just hard to remember that sometimes.

Jay shifts, pushing off of the table he’d been leaning on and then stopping, like he’s not sure where to move. “We’re not saying that you have to be happy all the time, or whatever,” he says “I’m not. Evie’s not. We’re-- yeah.” He hesitates. Even now, there’s things they aren’t talking about. “I don’t know what’s up with you and Ben, but he’s not happy all the time either. That’s how people work.”

Mal will not cry. “Ben hates me is what’s up with him.” she explains calmly, like a rational person who isn’t suddenly on the verge of tears over nothing. “ He wants me to give up magic completely and I can’t do that, I just can’t. It’s a part of me and it-- when I don’t use it, I’m cutting off a part of myself.”

“Have you talked to Fairy Godmother yet about the magical theory classes?” Evie asks softly. “Jane is taking them, and so is Aria. You wouldn’t be alone.”

Mal scoffs. “Magic theory. Like that’s good for anything.”

“It could help--”

The tears are back, suddenly.  Prickling hot at the back of Mal’s throat, threatening to choke her again. Making her voice wobble like she’s weak.

“It’s not going to help!” Mal shouts, instead of giving in to her other impulse, which is to start sobbing. “It’s not the same thing! I wouldn’t expect you to understand that, but it’s not something I can just-- wish away if I just try hard enough! I need to use magic, and it’s the only way I can be good enough--”

Oh, gods. Fuck. She wasn’t going to cry again.

Evie’s there again, touching Mal’s hand and then her hair, soft and cool and just right in a way that makes Mal want to cry more and not less. Like, Evie’s here, and she’s saying soft words that Mal can’t hear over the pounding in her own head, but it’s got to be just the right thing because Evie always knows the right thing to say whenever Mal is acting stupid again.

“I don’t--” Mal tries. “I--”

Evie wraps an arm over her shoulders and rocks both of them back and forth like she’s a child again.  “It’s okay,” she’s saying, or at least that’s what it seems like she might be saying. It’s hard to tell what with the hysterics and all. “I’ve got you.”

Mal holds her breath until there are spots over her vision, and then lets it out. It’s not easy, but it’s doable, which is more than she could have said just a few hours ago.

Jay shifts forward again and actually makes the move to sit on Mal’s other side this time. His shoulder just barely brushes against hers. It’s nice to just have him there. Grounding, or something.

“Hey. We’re not saying you have to give up magic, okay?” Jay says. “What about, like, we find a way for you to use it somewhere that’s not on your royal boyfriend?”

Oh no.

“He hates--” Mal sniffles. “Hates me anyway. Doesn't matter anymore.”

“Yeah. No. He doesn’t. Trust me on this one,  it takes a lot more than one spell to drive us guys away.”

“I’ve done a lot worse than one spell,” says Mal. “It’s more like-- a whole spellbook.”

Jay bumps her shoulder. It knocks her over into Evie a bit, but that’s just fine with Mal. Evie is always a good place to be. “He’s gonna forgive you.” Jay tells her, like it’s already happened. “He never shuts up about you, for real.”

“I don’t know if I want him to forgive me.” Mal whispers, low and terrible and mostly to herself. She doesn’t know--

She loves Ben, she thinks. She could love him. She does love him, maybe, but in the same way that she loves her other friends. There’s room in her heart for at least three people, but when one of them is so much more it’s hard to say if there’s any space left over for people who don’t get it.

It takes a long minute of sitting with that thought before Mal realizes that oh, right, she was saying something.

It feels too late to finish the thought. Limited-time offer, already expired. No more talking about boyfriends who aren’t what she needs right now anyway. Better to think about Evie instead, safe and warm at her back, or her boys, steady and bright and sweet in their own ways that Mal already understands. It’s easy to be with people you’ve known since you were children, even if they think more about stabbing and stealing than about treaties and marriage and life after high school and all of the things that Mal is supposed to be thinking about now.

Evie shoves Mal upright. “Okay,” she says, clapping her hands together. “I think it’s time to do something that’s not moping now!”

Mal wants to mope forever.  She doesn’t want to rehydrate and rest and do all of the things that Evie is going to make her do. Mal would happily (hah, as-if) stay flopped out in Evie’s bed, draped over Evie’s shoulder forever if she could. It would be easier than facing her problems. Simpler.

Evie pulls a metal dish out of her bag. “We brought popcorn, if you want to do the honor,” she says, clicking out the handle and waving the pan towards Mal.

It’s an effort just for Mal to be sitting up right now. Fire has always come easily, but the act of reaching out a hand might be too much. Transforming her throat to blow a breath of flame wouldn’t just be an effort physically, but mentally as well. It’s easy enough to change her whole shape at once, but there’s no space for a dragon to curl up in a dorm room and transforming her body in bits and pieces is so far beyond what Mal can manage right now that it might as well be impossible.

Mal shakes her head. Nope. All out of fire juice, can’t do it today.

The do have a microwave with a heating element, and at least three lighters between the four of them, so there’s really no need for Mal’s crew to look so fucking stricken.

Ugh. One hot hand won’t hurt too much, and if it can get them to stop looking at her like that, it’ll be worth the effort. “Fine. Give ‘em here,” Mal says, gesturing for the popcorn tin. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

Evie hands it over. “And I love you,” she says back, easily. “Let’s get some Stage Moms going. Let the boys get it set up while we get all cozy.”

Mal sniffles. The popcorn is heating up on her palm, where she’s sending a steady stream of heat up through to the container. It’ll pop in a minute, so long as she doesn’t do something dumb like forget to regulate the heat and light the whole thing on fire. “You don’t have to do this.”

Evie wraps an arm around her shoulders, jostling her close again. “I know. What are friends for, right?”

Oh, Evil.

Evie takes this new bout of tears in stride, pulling Mal close and rescuing the popcorn before it burns and producing a handkerchief from somewhere for Mal to wipe her nose with as she cries.  “I know, I know,” she says soothingly, as Mal sobs into her shoulder. “We’re here for you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Shh, hey. You do, Mali. You do, and you always will. Nothing you do is gonna drive us away, okay? We’re your family, and you can’t make us leave even if you try.”

There’s a weight behind Mal, and oh, that’s the sound of Stage Moms up on somebody’s laptop, so the boys must be done getting that set up, and then there’s a hesitant hand patting her back, and oh--

“Um, please don’t try.” Carlos says. “We love you and all. But please don’t.”

There’s a jostling, and then the sounds of someone (Evie) whacking someone else (definitely Carlos, then) upside the head.

“If you need us, baby,” Evie says. “Wherever or whenever or anything. We’re here for you and you can’t change that even if you want to.”

“Even if I’m just like my mother?” Mal asks. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t seem to stop herself. It’s an awful compulsion, the constant need to weigh her actions against her mother’s. Following the trajectory of bright young girl to bitter young woman, to becoming more and more entwined with her magic, until finally she can’t resist the need for power anymore, and she snaps and starts cursing people left and right with no mind for the consequences.

Mal can’t look up. She can’t know what’s going on in this terrible silence that’s going to choke her, even though she wants to know, so very very much, what her crew is doing right now. How they’re going to lie to her when they try and reassure her that she’s not her mother and she won’t ever be, even though the roots are already there.

Evie doesn’t lie to her. “Even then.” she says. “We’d still follow you, Mal. Even if you start cursing people with no rhyme or reason. I’ll always get you back.”

Another wave of hot tears somehow trickle out. “I want to go home.” Mal whispers. She wouldn’t have to worry about dragging her crew back with her if they were home. If they’d never left in the first place. Curse Auradon for making her think about things like morality and goodness and what she could have if only she could be a good girl for a little bit longer. Curse them all.

Evie sighs, and Mal can feel her chest rise and fall with it where they’re squished together on the little island of Evie’s bed. “I know, babe,” Evie says. “You keep saying that.”

Goddess help them all. “I want to go home,” Mal tries to explain. “Not, like, to my mother. I just-- I hate it here. I don’t understand any of the rules and I don’t know how to be a princess like you, Eves. I don’t--” Mal breaks off to swipe a hand over her face. She is not going to cry again,  not with almost everyone she cares about still here to watch. “I don’t think I can keep up with everything anymore. I just want a break.”

Evie sighs again, and rubs a hand over Mal’s back, gentle-like. “What if we got you one?” she says, so softly that Mal almost misses it.

She doesn’t though, and that’s what matters. “What?” Mal asks. Tries to demand, really, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

Evie’s hand doesn’t break rhythm. “A break. We can do that. Get you some time to regroup.”

“I don’t-- it won’t help--”

“Hm.” Evie says, and it sounds skeptical even though it’s barely a noise at all. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“I-- no!”  Mal says, almost tearful again. Fuck, what’s gotten into her, crying at the drop of a brick like this. “You could-- anything, Eves. You can do anything you want, I’m not doubting you.”

Evie conveniently ignores the final emphasis. “Great!”

Oh no.

“No, ” Mal tries to tell her. “I don’t-- Eves.”

“You said I can do anything I want.” Evie challenges, dangerous even under her sparkly lipgloss. Dangerous because of it, maybe. Like a poisonous moth. Something beautiful that you should know better than to touch. “I’m doing it.”

“You did say that.” Jay echoes, watching Mal a little too closely with those stupid bright eyes of his. “Like, just now.”

“I lied.” Mal says immediately. “I’ve never- I would never say a thing like that.”

“Mmm.” says Evie, petting a hand over Mal’s head. It feels not-so-great, so Mal ducks away. She doesn’t need to be reminded of her hair just now. “I don’t think you did. I think you know I’m right, and you’re afraid to think about what it means.”

Oh no. “Can we not psychoanalyze me right now?” Mal begs.

Just like that, Evie backs off. “Sure.” she says breezily. “We can plan your getaway instead. Do you want to see the mountains?”

“I--” Mal tries, but the words stick. “Sure?”

“I think there’s a cabin up there that I can convince, ah,’ Evie barely stutters, but she does wince, and goes on anyway. Great. That’s perfect.  “Nobody in particular! To let us borrow!”

“Eves, please no.”

Evie breaks out into a brilliant smile “Oh yes. Do you think two weeks is enough? An extended spring break, so to speak,  and then we can talk about a longer-term kind of thing.”

Running away forever sounds like something that might be good, but forever also implies some sort of continued existence, and Mal’s really not sure if she’s down for that just now.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” she says, instead of the full thought. “What if it doesn’t change anything?”

“It’s a great idea,” says Evie. “All of my ideas are great, remember?”

“You’re coming with me, right?” Mal asks, hating how pathetic it comes out. She’s not a child, but she feels silly and childish again, watching her best friend plan out how to fix her life.

Evie pauses. “If you want us to,” she says, hesitant for the first time. “I don’t want to put any more pressure on you.”

Oh. The thought strikes Mal for the first time in this awful, no-good, very bad day that maybe she’s not the only one who doesn’t know what she’s doing here. That maybe Evie is scared too.

“I want you there.” Mal says firmly. This, at least, is something she knows. “I want all of you, but please, Eves, I need you there. Don’t send me away on my own.”

“I think we can do that.”

Mal doesn’t want to show her whole soul here, but it’s too easy to just tip her face up towards Evie’s, like she’s a flower reaching for the bright Auradon sun. “Yeah?” she asks hopefully.

Evie brushes a piece of Mal’s hair out of her face, so gentle that it doesn’t even tug on the tangles. “For sure.” she says. “We can go with you.”

“All of you?” Mal asks again, pathetically. “Just for a week, please.”

There’s an intense conversation happening in eyebrows and facial twitching going on over her head, but Mal isn’t ready to follow that just yet, and eventually it seems to resolve itself and Jay reaches over to pat her head. “Yeah, fine.” he says. “All of us.”

Evie lets out a breath. “It’s settled then. An extended spring break, starting next week. Can you do one more week, Mal? We can always call you out sick.”

Mal can’t imagine leaving her room in the next week, much less leaving campus to go out to another unknown place for an extended period of time. “I can do it.” she says, instead of explaining. Classes are the lesser of the two obstacles right now, and besides, she can’t ask the others to take the time off from the classes that they’re finally doing well in. It wouldn’t be fair to them. She’s already-- oh, Evil. She’s asking Jay to give up the university visit he was going to do over break. Fuck. Maybe he can travel down and back, but he hates driving on his own, and she’s already asking so much of them, coming with her at all, and oh--

“We’ll call out early next week.” Evie whispers to her. “One week with everyone, and then we can have a week just for us if you’re up for it, okay?”

Of course Evie already has it all figured out. “Okay.” Mal whispers back to her. “I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, good.” Evie says, at a more normal volume this time. “If you’re feeling up to it, there is one other thing--” she picks up her phone and tilts the screen over towards Mal.

There’s a whole mess of texts, and at least two missed calls that Mal can see already. From a very particular number. Oh, gods.

“No.” Mal says as firmly as she can manage. “No way.”

Evie doesn’t lower the phone. “He’s been calling me.”

“Then tell him to not!” Mal bursts out. “I can’t talk to him about this now!”

Evie grins at that. A full-out, unladylike, evil grin. “Gladly.” she says sweetly, and taps to immediately dismiss the whole mess.

What.

“Really?” Mal asks incredulously.  Evie loves being proper and outwardly kind and not telling people to fuck off to their faces. Evie is a firm believer in the idea that insults stick best when the person has to say ‘thank you’ and ideally won’t even question it until they’re back home that night (where they’re most vulnerable, Evie says. It’s just efficiency to make sure that you’re always hurting people while their guard is down).

“Mal. Baby.” Evie says, shifting so she can talk with her hands without Mal’s sad droopy self in the way. “You don’t know how long I have been waiting to tell this boy to fuck off and let you adjust on your own time. You broke up with Uma like, a month before we came here. That’s not long enough to jump right into another long term relationship, no matter what this Auradon boy thinks. You need time, and space, and I will tell him to give you all of that.”

Mal will not stare with her mouth open like a fish. She’s better than that.

“Wow, okay, Eves.” Jay says, almost laughing. Right.

“Go Evie!” Carlos practically cheers. Of course the boys are still here too. They wouldn’t leave the perfect opportunity for drama behind just because Mal is having a moment.

Evie nods to them, graciously. “Thank you, thank you.” she says. “I do take requests.” she hesitates for a moment. “But, um, Mali, do you want to maybe write him a letter? I can drop it off when I make the call. Make sure he really gets the message.”

“Yeah. I think that-- that would be good. I need space. And time.”

Evie picks up Mal’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Of course.”

“You’ll really do it for me?”

Evie’s eyes are dark and intense and so, so close. “Anything, Mal.” she says. “Just say the word and I’m yours.”

Oh. That’s-- well.

Maybe more than Mal can handle at this exact moment, honestly, but something that is going to be very very important just as soon as she gets her shit together again.

Evie’s face is still very close.

Mal pulls back. “I love you.” she says. It just feels like the right thing to do. “So much, Eves. I love you more than anything.”

Evie’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “More than strawberries?”

“More than strawberries.” Mal echoes back. More than anything, really. “More than chocolate.”

Evie brushes that stupid piece of blonde hair out of her eyes again, and the touch isn’t even a bother this time. “That’s a lot of love,” she says “You’d better be sure about that kind of thing.”

More than anything.

“I’m sure,” Mal tells her. “I love you.”

[fangirl-on-bitches]

Bittersweet

Javier Peña x Female!Reader.

Word Count: 4k approximately.

Summary: You and Javier have a particular way of saying goodbye, so particular you get a surprise when you get back to the US.

Warning: a lot of cursing, a bit of pregnancy shenanigans, a lot of dialogue and a little messy plot and timelines lol.

A/N: Okay, listen before you continue. When I was younger I used to write, maybe not with the best grammar or the best plot, but sure as hell with a lot of creativity. Now I just can’t be that creative to write a complete fic or hc, so if you find this boring or a waste of time I’m really sorry. If you like this, I appreciate it as I really made an effort to finish it (a crapy ending anyways). I’ll be sincere, I had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head so I wrote it. I feel like the scenarios aren’t realistic to what could happen in real life (I feel like they are forced or way too dramatic) I really hope I don’t waste your time. (and yes, I chose the name in honor of Pedro’s role in triple frontier)

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You were cursed. Definitely.

You were back in the states, had been for a few weeks, enjoying the warmest sun Miami had to offer along with Connie. You loved relaxing by a peaceful beach after years of chasing after Escobar with your life on the line every hour of every day.

That day you were really excited to wake up and meet Connie to go to the beach, it had been so long since you saw her and little Olivia. You felt at the same time a little uncomfortable with your body that day, bloated and kind of heavy, like there was extra gravity, but the excitement overwhelmed whatever other feeling you might be having.

The beach had some people because it was a nice day, so you lounged along Connie and baby Olivia, eating fried fish with chips as it was beach food. You were laughing at something Connie said about Steve, something about being a pain in the ass, which you agreed with. It was all fun and games until you felt horrible nausea and a pushing need to vomit. Connie, being observant noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?” before you could answer you ran to the restaurant’s bathroom, puking whatever food you had that day. Connie came close behind you. She gave you a paper towel so you could wipe your mouth.

“Okay, I might be sick.” you admitted flushing the toilet.

Of course, your mood just plummeted to the ground when you were sitting in a private room in the hospital. Connie couldn’t check you, but she was looking for her friend on-call, meanwhile, you looked as baby Liv (as you called Olivia) slept peacefully by your side.

You didn’t like hospitals. They reminded you of your time in Colombia, and although you weren’t shot, your compañeros might have been shot multiple times. There had been too many close calls and so many lives lost, you just got the creeps whenever you heard a gurney moving.

Soon, Connie came back and carried Olivia outside, leaving you with her friend. She presented herself, and asked routine questions. How are you feeling? What happened? Does something hurt? Is your period late? Did you fall and hit your head? Do you have any diseases? Or do you take any medication?

“I do have nausea and I threw up after eating.” She nodded as she took your blood pressure. Then you started thinking. You were thinking really hard.

Your period was late, you didn’t remember how late, but it was late. Two months ago, Steve and you caught Escobar. Steve went straight back home and you had to stay, to finish completing paperwork. Then Javier was back in Colombia to follow the Cali Cartel, but you were assigned back to Miami and couldn’t stay.

To be fair, you were glad to be back home, but you really missed Javier. When shit went down with Los Pepes you were pissed off at Javier. You knew he usually overstepped the line to get intel, but this time he had stepped so far off the line, he wouldn’t be able to see the line.

The night before he left you decided you would drink your consciousness off because you hated to even think that Javier Peña was living in Colombia; after a glass of a really strong Rum and Cola you decided against it and knocked on Javier’s door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, suggesting that he wasn’t up to listening to more of your nagging. Your head had a million thoughts racing, you wanted to tell him so many things varying from ‘you are an idiot’ to ‘why the fuck did you do this?’ but the only thing you articulate was something like ‘I don’t want you to go’

Javier’s face softened, although you cast down eyes couldn’t actually look at his face, he had stepped aside and invited you inside. “Do you want something to drink?” you shook your head, looking around the apartment. It was almost empty, but it has been pretty empty since the beginning. You sat on the floor, Javier following with a beer in his hand.

“Will you come back?” you asked him, but you already knew the answer.

“I don’t think so, it depends on the higher ups in the states” you nodded, looking at him. You were really going to miss him. “Look, it’s not like we won’t see each other anymore, when you guys catch Escobar-” you laughed humorlessly. How long would that be? Months, another year perhaps? 

Both of you stayed in silence for a while. “I should go.” you told him, standing up, he stood up as well.

“You shouldn’t go.” He told you, squeezing your shoulder tenderly, a familiar touch. You looked at his sweet dark brown eyes, a silly small smile playing on the corners of your lips.

“What do you mean? You have a plane to catch tomorrow.” you remind him, wondering if he was drunk, he clearly wasn’t. His hand, which was still on your shoulder, moved to cup your face. For a second, you were lost and didn’t understand what was happening, until you looked at his eyes again and understood. You didn’t wait for him to lean down, you just wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

You would lie if you have never felt curious as to why every informant in Colombia gave Javier the intel he wanted. After that night you understood why. He was passionate, attentive and a really generous lover. You might have even believed him if he had blurted out an ‘I love you’.

The only reason why you let this happen was because Javier was supposed to stay in the US, officially he wasn’t your (or Steve’s) compañero anymore. And that was true, even when he came back.

“Okay, so your results are in. After you told me you’ve been missing your period for quite a while, I drew some blood to analyze it.”

“Yeah, it must be stress. You know, I worked in Colombia with Connie’s husband and moving back here plus all the work I have to do was really stressful. Also, I had a UTI back in Colombia, I wasn’t drinking enough water and I read that the strain might move my period a little.” you started rambling. For some reason, you felt jittery, almost anxious at the look on the Doctor’s face. She had a grin in her face, really big and excited.

“That may delay your period for two weeks, but it won't magically make it disappear, dear.” She read the results once more and nodded to herself. “As I suspected, you are pregnant.”

“W-w-what?” you mumbled. “But I didn’t pee on the stick.” clearly, your brain had short-circuited.

“I have some pregnancy tests if you wish to take them yourself, but the blood analysis is pretty accurate.” she offered with a nice smile. You nodded and took the box going to the bathroom, trying to focus on reading the instructions.

The stick said you were pregnant. And you knew exactly who was the father.

You sighed at the papers you were reading, the office already empty, way past dinner time. Since catching Escobar, hours were cut short, but to you they were really slow. Steve wasn’t there, he had left a few weeks ago, Javier obviously wasn’t there. It was just you, some files and occasionally some booze to help you relax before sleeping. Thankfully, you would be leaving shortly.

On your way back to the apartment complex you stopped by a grocery store. You needed ice cream, and lots of chocolate, and some chips. Probably some booze too. You had bought a flask of whisky that reminded you of Javier, although whisky might not be your first choice of booze.

That same flask almost fell to the ground when you saw goddam Javier Peña entering his apartment, a big suitcase by his side.

He also noticed you, the dark bags under your eyes and messy hair evidence of your hard work. 

“Oh my god” you whispered, unbelieving. You walked and hugged him, relieved to see him again. “You are back?” you stupidly asked.

“Yeah, they want my intel and help to track down the Cali Cartel.” he answered.

“Well, that’s weird.”

“What?”

“My orders are to finish paperwork and return to Miami. They didn’t tell me to stay to help.”

“Well, it’s a different operation this time, more discreet.” he tried to hint you that it wasn’t just DEA business anymore, it was more a CIA kind of work. You invited him to your apartment, that had two boxes of things you were going to give to charity, you didn’t need all this stuff back home, you already had them.

He explained his situation while you shared the flask of whisky and bid good night like the old times, no kisses or sex, or nothing like that. Which was fine.

Everything was fine for the next few days. Javier even helped you pack your stuff and sort it out. The night before returning home he offered to go to the bar you always went to with Steve and him on Friday’s or Saturday’s (sometimes even a Monday)

Both of you drank like you always had, but instead of bidding goodnight and going to bed separately, you both had sex. Again. It was probably a coping mechanism, the way both of you said goodbye to each other. Such a complicated method.

So, so complex that now you were pregnant.

With a child.

Javier's child.

It had to be his, you only had sex with him within the last 3 months. Since Colombia you hadn’t have sex.

This was bad. It was complicated. You didn’t plan for a child; working at the DEA (chasing after Escobar) left you almost no time to think about dating, much more less building a fucking family. 

Could you do this? Hell yeah, you are an awesome strong woman.

What you couldn’t do was tell Javier.

When you came out the private room, you were fidgeting with your hands, Connie came and took them. “I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. Connie looked at you shocked; then you noticed little baby Olivia wasn’t on her arms.

Steve, in all his blonde mustache glory stood with his daughter on his arms, looking as shocked as Connie. “What?” he asked.

“Who is the father?” Connie inquired.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Steve.

“I came to pick up my wife and daughter for dinner. Why don’t you come with us and tell us more about this?” You nodded out of inertia, but you looked at your hands while walking, Connie hooking her arm with one of yours.

As you sat on traffic, you tentatively touched your belly. It was... normal. No kicking, no large or really hard belly. It was like there was nothing there.

You would have declined dinner if you knew the questionnaire that would come from the Murphy’s. Well, questionnaire would be an exaggeration, but you didn’t really like the single question they were asking.

“Who’s the father?” 

“I- I can’t tell you.”

“Why? We don’t know him?” you sighed and reassigned. You knew they would ask forever.

“Please, please, please you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody. Both of you.” you looked pointedly at Steve. He nodded but held your gaze, trying to figure out what you were really trying to say. A second later he muttered something.

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“What?” Connie asked but soon realized. “Oh, no way. Javier?”

“It’s Javier.” you confirm their suspicions.

“Are you certain?” Connie asked.

“Of course.” you paused and then added. “You can’t tell him Steve.”

“What? Why?” he sounded slightly offended.

“I should tell him first. He should hear it from me.”

“I can’t believe this. The minute I come back home you two just pound at each other.”

“It wasn’t like that, and technically you were still in Colombia the first time.”

“The first time?” he asked with a chuckle, he looked very happy.

“The second time I was the one leaving!” you paused, moving the food around your plate. “How the fuck am I going to tell him? I can’t just call him and be like, ‘hey I’m pregnant and you are the father. How’s the Cali stuff going?’. This kind of news aren’t told over a call.”

“But it’s different, it’s not a normal situation. Javier could be in Colombia for years.” Steve reminded you.

“It wouldn’t make a difference. He can’t come back until his work is done.” You rolled your eyes, there was no good alternative.

“So you plan to just hide this from him?” Connie asked, her look full of pity, if it was for you or Javier, you didn't know.

“Only until I know he’s coming back. I’ll check on him every once in a while. I’ll need you to call him too, Steve. I don’t want him to suspect me.” He sighed but nodded nonetheless. You sighed as well, a million thoughts racing through your head.

You called Javier that same week. Of course, it was unexpected for him but really welcome. Colombia was not rainbows and sunshine. “So how’s the Cartel treating you?”

“It’s a fucking nightmare, but hopefully it won’t take long. I can't talk too much over the phone about this, who knows who might be listening.” he sighed, sounding really 

“Yeah, you are right.” for a minute, you thought about telling him. Then you decided. “Please take care and be careful.”

“Of course compañera.” he assured, you could practically hear the smirk in his lips. After ending the call, you pressed the heels of your palms in your eyes. How in the world were you going to tell him?

–––––– 

A month turned into two, and then five months flew by in the blink of an eye. Javier was not coming back for the time being and your belly was starting to pop. Your head was still working on how in the world were you going to tell Javier, which was the only problem you had right now. It wasn’t even a big problem, if Javier wanted an out of fatherhood he was free to go, but you had been so happy since day two (day one was a full shock) that you honestly didn’t care.

You were getting way too ahead of yourself. Maybe Javi wanted to be a father and he would be really happy with the little baby. But that wasn’t the Javier you knew, and that’s why you were so afraid to tell him. 

Today looked like the best day to tell him. You were going to probably get to know if the little baby was a girl or a boy. You were waiting patiently for him to pick up the call in the hospital public phone. After a while, he picked up.

“Hello?” his voice sounded gruff and stressed.

“Hi, compañero. How are you?” you asked, a hand on your belly.

“As fine as I can be here,” he answered. “What did you want?” he asked abruptly, almost tired of talking to you. It stinged a little.

“I just called to check in…” you lied, maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell him after all.

“I’m going to be as clear as I can. Don’t call me, unless you are fucking dying.” you felt a piercing pain in your throat, a tight knot forming, making it really difficult to talk.

“Fine.” you hissed and hanged the phone, tears slipping down your cheeks. Fucking hormones. Fucking Javier. 

Connie, who was waiting for you anxiously to come back, hugged you. “It’s okay sweetie, it’s okay.” you nodded and wiped your tears.

“I’m okay. I just need to focus on my baby and myself right now.” you told her and rubbed your belly.

“Of course honey.”

––––––– 

It had been a really smooth and sweet pregnancy, you were really happy with your 5th month old baby boy Francisco. He was really sweet, but he had so, so much of his father, the resemblance was uncanny. Deep brown sweet eyes, and a mop of soft brown hair.

Javier had not called you since that horrible last call. You knew he called Steve every once in a while, but you asked Steve please not to tell you anything about him. Both Murphy’s just assumed you had told Javier about the pregnancy and that he had not taken it well.

This was a lie. Javier had no idea you were pregnant, much more less with his child. But he was still in Colombia, so unless you told him he would not hear it from anyone. 

It hurted you deeply, not being able to tell your son who his father was. However, all around your house there were pictures of Steve, Javi and yourself from Colombia. Connie and Olivia were there too, even Carillo. 

Anyways, the baby was too young to notice the absence of his father. Maybe by the time Francisco starts wondering about daddy, Javier would be around the USA to talk.

Your son cooed and asked to be held up, it was time for his nap. Just in time, you thought, Steve was coming over to pick him up as you were going to meet your best friend in an hour or so. Your baby boy soon fell asleep, you held him in against your chest, rocking him gently.

Then the doorbell rang.

“Steve, you are early. Fran just fell asleep.” you told Steve. But it wasn’t Steve. Javier fucking Peña stood in the door way, his eyes looking at your son. You frowned and tried to hide Francisco’s face sneakily from him. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, compañera.” he said, but his mind was not entirely focused on whatever he was saying. His mind was in the baby, and about how quickly you had moved on.

“Don’t compañera me.” you hissed, in a hushed tone, the baby in your arms sleeping soundly. “Come in.” you told him, as you turned around to leave your baby on his cradle. 

Javier looked around, looking for any sign of the baby’s father. But he only found pictures of you, Steve, Connie, baby Olivia and other people he knew. Then he started thinking, what if the baby was his child?

No, that’s not possible. 

“So?” you asked, really anxious. You had no idea he would be here. You were not prepared for this. But really, would you ever be prepared?

“I came to apologize.” Javier simply said, his hands on his hips.

“Took you a little long.” you said, rubbing your hands together. “If you apologized sooner I could have…”

“Could have what?” you exhaled and sighed, trying not to cry. 

“You are not supposed to be here.” you whisper, your voice cracking softly as you sit on your sofa. Javier sat by your side and you felt the weight of your decisions constrict your chest, making it harder to breath.

You were a horrible, horrible person. How could you deny him knowing he was a father? That he had a child? It didn’t matter how angry you felt, or how much of an asshole he had been. The baby was made by both of you. He had the right to know.

“I’m sorry.” he was not sure why, but he really was sorry. You shook your head, and started to tell him that you were sorry, repeating like a prayer. “Hey, hey” he tried to calm you down, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Breath, baby. Breath.” you complied, breathing deeply. After a minute of silence you took his rough big hand and held it, squeezing it slightly.

“Javier, I got news for you.” you started, and felt his hand tense. “The baby boy, Francisco, he’s your son, our son.” He looked at you, his eyes wide, looking like a deer in the headlights. “That time I called you, I was pregnant, and I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me after?”

“You told me not to call you unless I was fucking dying.” you exhaled and stood up. “Look you don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to, I had Francisco because I wanted to, but I didn't expect anything from you.”

“Not getting involved? What are you talking about?” he asked offended.

“I’m sorry, and I mean no offense, but you don't strike as the kind of guy who would want a family, or children.”

“And what the fuck do you know?” he raised his voice a little, making you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, and I can’t do anything to return back time.” you told him sincerely. A loud whine was heard from your room, where the crib was. You sighed and went to your room, to calm Francisco down. Unbeknownst to you, Javier followed you looking how you delicately held him and rocked him. The baby’s eyes were still closed, he was just a little disturbed.

You looked at the door frame, Javier stood there, looking at the child. You walked to him, your intentions clear. “Do you want to hold him?” you asked your voice soft and soothing. Javier gulped, feeling suddenly nervous, he didn’t know how to hold a baby, what if he dropped him? “Don’t worry, I’ll help.” you offered, a kind smile in your face.

Javier extended his arms and you walked closer, softly passing your son to Javier’s big arms. Francisco whined a little and Javier’s face cringed, making you smile. “Hold him against you,” you helped, gently pushing his arms, closer to his chest. Francisco was fast asleep again. Javier just looked at him, marveled. You guide him to the sofa, making him sit there with your son. “I’ll be right back.” you tell him, and at the panicked face he made, you had to quiet your laugh. “You’ll be fine.”

You called your best friend, telling her you wouldn’t be able to meet her. When you stepped back on the living room, someone knocked on the door, it must be Steve. You opened the door and gestured to him to be quiet, pointing at the couch, were Javi sat (finally) relaxed.

Steve did not enter the house as you promised to call later. You returned to the living room and sat beside them, contemplating how peaceful they looked. Javier had moved your son, laying him against his broad chest. You caressed the baby’s hair, looking at him with doe eyes.

“Want to stay for dinner?” you asked standing up. Javier nodded and then lay his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. You smiled and entered your bedroom to change your clothes into something more comfortable.

You had nothing figured out, but you were happy knowing your son had a loving father to grow up with. You’ll figure your relationship out (if there was going to be one).

After some minutes, you heard some gurgles coming from the living room. Javi fell asleep, and Francisco was wide awake, looking at his father curiously, moving his little hands. You took the baby from him, kissing his chubby face. “Your daddy is sleeping, baby. C’mon, let’s give you some mashed banana.” you told him, caressing Javier’s hair back.

You spent some long 20 minutes feeding and nursing your baby boy while you also checked dinner. Javier, still fast asleep on the couch, woke up with a start, touching his chest, as if missing something. “Where’s the baby?” he asked, looking around.

“He’s here, Javier.” you told him from the kitchen, a silly smile on your face. Javier sat by the table, feeling self conscious at the baby’s gaze over him. His son’s arms moved up and down, talking unintelligible gibberish. “He likes you.” you commented, cleaning his chubby face. Javier held his hand out and Francisco took one of his fingers, squeezing with his baby strength. Javi’s heart skipped a beat.

Eating together was really weird, but at the same time it felt right. You noticed Javier’s tired face and wondered if he came straight from the airport. So you asked, sparking some conversation. You talked about what finally happened with the Cali Cartel.

“You got a place to stay?” you asked, but you knew the answer. “You can stay here if you want. Hotel’s are really expensive right now.”

“You sure?” you nodded. You forgot how well you clicked with Javier, it was a nice reminder.

He helped you with the dishes, and then went to shower, getting his suitcase for clean clothes. You prepared Francisco for bed, giving him his formula bottle after changing his diapers.

You saw Javier getting out of the bathroom, and thankfully had the decency to wear full pajamas, you would have fainted at the view of his bare chest.

“So, I’ll go to the couch, do you have a blanket?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I was going to tell you to sleep in the bed with me. We already shared a bed before, so I don’t see a problem. Plus, I could use the help if Francisco wakes up.” you commented with a cocky smirk. You usually wore just a t-shirt to bed, but today you had to use full pajamas, like Javi did.

“Okay.” Javier said, not really convinced. Francisco was asleep already, his father caressed his little hand with his finger. You were already under the covers, ready to hit the bed, Javier looked tired too.

He laid down, under the covers as well, looking at the ceiling. He moved looking at you, you were both face to face, generous space between both of you. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, and took his hands on yours.

“Sleep Javi, you look tired.” you kissed the back of his hands and closed your eyes, sleep getting the best of you. Javi smiled, his face soft, getting a little closer, leaving his hand on yours, then he shut his eyes. He had never felt more at home. 

[shostakobitchh]

Sirius Black. Also Albus Dumbledore if you want.

I am SO SORRY LOL THIS HAS LITERALLY BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS I have NO IDEA why it wasn’t posted, but better late than never! 

1. how I feel about this character:

I like Sirius less than I like Remus, but more than I like James, but that’s honesty probably because we have like no way of knowing what James was actually like, but Sirius is the closest thing we get. I think he’s honestly a little crazy, but he only uses his heart when it comes to literally every decision he makes so it’s not really insanity, he just has no emotional/coping skills whatsoever. I get really torn when it comes to him because it’s obviously he loves Harry and that he loves James/Lily/Remus, but it does make me angry that he sat in prison for 12 years instead of giving Harry a home. The werewolf incident also raises a lot of questions too, and I think that’s where Sirius and James were fundamentally different. I get the feeling sometimes Sirius might’ve buried a lot of impulses to please James, because James was the Good Guy, and after time, that might’ve stuck. He is one of my favorite characters though, his story is heartbreaking and one of the more compelling because I see a lot of myself in him sometimes. Being controlled by your emotions and wasting parts of your life away because of it is a Big Mood.

2. romantic pairing:

Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin, and uhhhhh Remus Lupin. Sorry, Wolfstar is canon, you can pry this from my cold dead hands.

3. Non-romantic OTP:

Surprise! Remus Lupin. No, I really do love them together, romantic or not. Remus is outwardly so calm and cool and collected and brilliant but on the instead hes that episode of spongebob where all the little spongebobs are running around and everything is on fire. Sirius is outwardly a hot mess express, but I think he does a lot more thinking than he likes to show. I also think Lily and Sirius would totally be bros, but we have no way of knowing since they’re both dead :-)

4. unpopular opinion:

Sirius isn’t as perfect of a character as everyone thinks lol. he had some major character flaws, almost murdered snape (snape did like 10 billion times worse but I’m not going to compare/contrast here) and i’m sorry, but he wallowed in azkaban for 12 years. DUDE, come ON. he’s dramatic and over the top and he should’ve fought more for harry.

5. what do you wish happened?

I wish he hadn’t died for harry’s sake. that death was probably the hardest to read, only because of what happened afterwards. it makes my heart break for remus, too. I also REALLY WISH HE HADN’T SAID “NICE ONE JAMES” BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK MAN -- 

onto Albus Dumbledore, one of my favorite characters!

1. how I feel about this character

I adore Dumbledore. He is the exact shade of fuck-upped I enjoy the most. He is loving, and he believes in that love above all else, but he did/does some fucked up shit despite this. I think the thing I love most about Dumbledore is that it is so apparent that he loves Harry and believes that he will prevail, because Harry carries that love with him. but in the end, Dumbledore is willing to sacrifice him, and while I know it’s controversial, Harry literally had to die or Voldemort was going to take over the world and kill everyone. despite this, I don’t think in his heart of hearts Dumbledore would’ve actually let Harry go through with it unless he knew Harry would come back. I think Dumbledore actually has a reaction when Harry tells him that Voldemort used his blood in the ritual in GoF. and that is SO FUCKED UP, it is SO painful, and my heart hurts for the old guy because he was so lonely in this knowledge. 

2. romantic pairing

Dumbledore is like 2394 years old, he’s the figurehead of Good and Good Things so I don’t really ship him with anyone. 

3. Non-romantic OTP: 

Him and Harry, I adore when they interact, especially when the go to the cave in HBP. “I’m not afraid Harry, I’m with you,” OWOWOWOW

Alternatively, Dumbledore and Snape. Both each others secret-keepers and probably the person they each trust the most, but still terribly lonely. The dynamic of Snape being like “I want to die” and Dumbledore cheerily chiming in with “Death is but the next great adventure!” is also priceless. the scene when Dumbledore makes Snape pull the Christmas popper gets me every. fucking. time. 

4. unpopular opinion: 

he was a genuinely good person who had to make terrible decisions because who the fuck else was going to? he loved harry -- period. 

5. what do you wish happened? 

I sound like a broken record but I wish he hadn’t died, I wish he had been way more open with Harry and provided him with some more parental comfort since Sirius couldn’t. It’s a shame they both couldn’t find more comfort in each other. 

[obscure-sentimentalist]

💖 🏅 ✨ 💭

Fanfic Ask Game

You know, I was going to make a wry "Asking the tough ones, huh?" comment to open this, but that was five days ago, and I think that speaks a lot to how accurate an assessment that was. It's been... a journey with my writing thoughts these last few days.

Putting under a cut, because I have no grasp on conciseness.

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Two things come to mind, though they vary in level of difficulty for me.

I’ve always been best at writing dialogue. Quipping comes pretty easily to me, and I have a bit of fun with character dynamics in conversation. (And what can I say, sometimes I can indulge in writing a dramatic villain monologue, as a treat.) Oftentimes, when I get stuck progressing with a piece, I’ll just jump in somewhere down the line with a bit of dialogue to put a pin on the map so I at least have something to which I can connect.

I also love doing very introspective scenes and works, really digging into a character’s head. It’s not something I say comes easily to me, exactly, but I feel very at home when I get to write pieces like this. Just spending a lot of time in a character’s head (particularly ones who don’t speak much, or who have plenty of secrets and insecurities to hide behind performative cheer) is something I thrive on.

🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).

This question is part of the reason why it’s taken so long for me to answer this, because when it came in I had barely written in a while (whatever I’d gotten down was sparse and painstakingly dragged out) and terrified about it. And I had this whole thing written up about how yeah, I hate feeling like this and want out, but I’m actually handling it better than I have been in this situation in the past.

But we’re going to forego that and just jump to the fact that I slapped some words out over a couple days this week. A few hundred scattered ones, not for anything I’m supposed to be or planned on writing--just a couple snippets of self-indulgent variations on a theme as an exercise. It may or may not go somewhere after some refinement, but for now I’m going to content myself with the fact that they’re finally words that have flowed easily enough.

✨ Choose three adjectives to compliment your own writing.

Soft, stabby, silly. (And sometimes all three at once!)

I like doing shorter, gentler pieces fairly often--fluff with substance, some quieter moments in between that often have some facet of introspection. I could pretty much say the same thing about the more humorous things I’ve done.

And then there’s stabby, because I will see little details and wonder, “How can I sharpen this to inflict maximum pain?” And revel in it.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

I’ve been waffling on this one a lot, first because I wasn’t sure exactly how to interpret the question, and because I just didn’t know what to select for it. So I’m just going to take this to mean something I haven’t explicitly made canon in this fic universe (yet, if ever) but have Thoughts about, and fill in some blanks between what I’ve already established in the Old enough ‘verse.

I think quiet moments are a complicated thing for both twins, and not something either of them generally initiates. Tommy has his trauma surrounding silence and being left alone (which he takes a long time to even speak of to Connor, and still hasn’t fully dealt with), and is furthermore that natural showman, so he’s all about keeping things lively and entertaining. Connor, by comparison, could probably benefit from lower-key moments given his high-stress career, but he’s also notorious for bottling up his emotions and letting them simmer--quiet tends to get him stuck in his own head.

The key reason for both of them, though, is that they’re constantly trying to make up for lost time. There’s twenty-three years of separation between them at first, and the fact that they don’t live anywhere near each other and are trying to keep their brotherhood under wraps minimizes the amount of time they get to spend with each other. Tack on the 6.5 years between Tommy’s death and resurrection, and while Tommy stays in Chicago and moves into Connor’s spare room when he comes back, now they’re scrambling to fill even more gaps in time. With the way their lives have gone, the twins are under this unspoken pressure to use all the time they now have to the fullest.

It’s a system that works well enough in those first (just shy of) five years, precisely because they have that geographical distance between them--visits are like a special occasion, where they can fill the limited days with activities and shenanigans and plenty of talking before returning to their separate, daily lives. There’s downtime and recovery, but not together.

But after? After Tommy comes back, refusing to process that he came back and how that affects him; after Connor has spent years drowning in his grief and barely begun to cope with it, only for the universe to turn around and give him back his brother? Not only are neither of them in the right headspace for constant motion and eventfulness, they’re both too damn stubborn to acknowledge that. Add to the fact that they’re together practically 24/7 for a while in the immediate aftermath, and it’s not sustainable at best/a recipe for disaster at worst.

What I’ve written so far post-Old enough epilogue would suggest that, thankfully, they never hit that meltdown point, but the fact that it takes months more for Tommy to finally crack from the trauma of his death is very indicative that these two nitwits probably never had a real discussion about needing to slow down and why. They most likely just ran themselves ragged from trying to do too much and crashed, and only in the recovery period do they realize the importance of that downtime and how the quiet is nowhere near as lonely or overwhelming when shared with their brother.

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XX

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing probably,

• • •

The sounds of crickets and the distant sound of an owl somewhere in the woods was pretty much the only things you could hear from your position by the control box. Other than the occasional very soft sound of someone’s clothing moving as they moved or shifted their weight. 

Lucas was next to you, leaning against the box. Everyone had remained silent after Jonathan and Nancy got into the car and drove up to the lab. 

“Is Will your dad?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Looking down at Lucas, his arms were crossed, and he was looking up at you with a mixed look of frustration and sadness. 

“What makes you think that?” Your voice was equally as quiet.

“You fell through a hole, ended up in the Upside Down and then crawled out in a different time period, that is, if you’re telling the truth. And you just said that you and Jonathan are family. “

Looking down at the pavement you sighed a bit, lifting up your backpack that was mostly empty. But, Steve forgot to empty out the smallest pocket in the bag, where you usually kept your school ID, and some extra cash in a wallet. It was the same one you’d had from home. 

Taking the pale faux yellow wallet out, you zipped it open, hesitating for a second, looking at the middle compartment you always refused to open. 

But, by all rights except blood, Lucas was your uncle. He’d sneak you cash at theme parks whenever all of you got together for the summer. You still remembered your fathers telling him he didn’t need to, and yet, he persisted. 

Opening the center compartment of the wallet you pulled out a small photo taken from an instax camera, of you and your dad. Often you forgot you had it. 

You didn’t look at it, but you just handed it to him. You’d been in sixth grade at some place for a field trip that he volunteered to chaperone. 

Lucas took it from you and looked at the photo. Your hair had been cut short, and you were clearly younger in the photo. And your dad had a smile on his face, an arm around your shoulders in a protective manner, his hair loosely styled, so a strand was in his face. 

And ever since this young version of your uncle Lucas met you, he thought you actually looked truly happy. Unbothered, like a normal kid with normal dreams and oblivious to the future or past she’d have to endure.

“This is Will?” It was obvious, but he still asked anyway, feeling the need to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Yeah. That’s my dad.” 

“Who’s your mom?”

Shaking your head a bit you closed your wallet, not taking the photo back. “Her name’s Anne.” 

“Don’t you want this?” He asked, holding the photo out to you. Looking at it for a split second you could almost hear the clanging of a baking sheet while your dad placed it on the stove to make those halloween cookies every year. And you could see the burnt edges creeping towards the pumpkin in the center. It was no secret that Will was a good cook, but terrible at baking and trying to put premade things in the oven. 

“Not really.” 

“But he’s your dad-”

“And I don’t know him anymore.” It was dramatic, but it was true. It had been over a year since you last saw him as you wanted to remember him. If you’d known that being in that restaurant would be the last time you’d see him, you wouldn’t have yelled at Pa, you would’ve taken it all in, you would have said your goodbyes, and tried to remember how your fathers and little brother looked in the moment. 

You went over to Steve who was leaning against the yellow post at the other side of the box, hitting the butt of the flashlight on his palm. “Hey,” You breathed out.

Looking up at you, he smiled a bit. “Hi,” 

“Guys?”

Max was staring at the drive that lead up to the lab, and you could hear the sound of tires against the pavement. Looking over you saw Jonathan’s car and Hopper’s truck speeding towards them. 

Reaching over you grabbed Max as Steve grabbed Lucas and Dustin, pulling them out of the way. Jonathan sped past you, but Hopper stopped, looking at you five through the open passenger window. 

“Let’s go!”

Steve opened the door, rushing you and the middle schoolers into the back, with the three of them behind you, and you, leaning between the two front seats, as Steve got into the passenger side.

“What the fuck’s going on?”

“The gate, it’s wide open, and letting things through.” 

“Jesus.”

• • •

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub you had your head in your hands, only seeing your knees, the tile, and a few strands of hair that fell around your face in a type of curtain. 

You were convinced that from the day you were born, you’d admired and looked up to your dad. He was one of many male figures in your life. He gave you good morals, and taught you to be strong, how to be you, and not to let anyone control you. 

His biggest fear when you were growing up was that a man would try and control you, or that anyone who had a power dynamic with you, would try and manipulate you. But he was always paranoid. 

You had another thing to admire him for- bringing two kids into a world that he knew was fucked. Being confident enough in himself and Pa that they could protect you and Daniel. That you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Closing your eyes you concentrated, lowering yourself onto the floor, hugging yourself and grasping onto Steve’s jacket. You wanted to know how he’d done it. Gotten through such a fucked up time in his life at such a young age. How any of them did. Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Max. You were older, and all you wanted to do was close your eyes and disappear. 

Opening your eyes, everything around you was black, with about an inch of water around your feet. But ahead of you, you could see a familiar looking table, with familiar looking cookies, and a few pieces of cloth on the table. 

You saw your uncle Dustin sitting at the table, while your uncle Lucas sat across from him. 

“Should we tell them?” Lucas asked, looking down at something beside him. Slowly walking over, you could see a stroller next to him, an older baby in the seat, dressed in yellow and pink, with a blue sippy cup gripped tightly in their hands. They were maybe a year old. 

“You’re insane.” Dustin responded.  

Finally you placed it. It was one of the tables at the coffee shop you’d always gone to on Fridays with your dad. And the cloth on the table was a set of dirty baby clothes that had been neatly folded. 

“What?”

“We can’t. You know that. Will’s already terrified enough as it is, you don’t want him turning their condo into a baby friendly prison, do you?” 

Lucas’ face changed a bit as he looked down at the baby again. You could hear a muffled voice call out an order, and watched as Dustin got up, leaving Lucas sitting with an infant who was half asleep. 

He leaned over to the baby, unbuckling them from the seat and pulling them into his arms. “Hey, princess.” He greeted her with a sad smile. He stayed quiet, letting the baby lean against his shoulder, the sippy cup still in a death grip, almost empty, and you assumed that the infant was just a little too happy about having been given what looked like apple juice

But when you looked at her arm, you saw the birthmark you once had, the one that, after you burnt your arm, disappeared. 

It was you. 

You were a chubby baby.

Who wouldn’t let go of her juice even though Lucas tried to put it on the table. 

“Okay, I won’t take it.” He relented, pushing her messy hair back, watching as she began to drink from the bottle. “You’re gonna be strong one day, you know that?” He was quiet about it. “One of the strongest women I ever met. And brave.”

The baby looked up at him, done drinking.

“You remain kind, somehow. You’re going to be so loving and compassionate that sometimes, it’s annoying. You’re gonna save a lot of people, so don’t hold onto the guilt, don’t let it hurt you, or hold you back. You’re gonna go-”

“Y/n?” Opening your eyes, Steve was kneeling down in front of you. “Do you know what the hell a Mind Flayer is?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nodded. You played DnD so often before that you knew plenty of the creatures, and the bosses you could fight, not to mention your dad talked about them all the time when helping you plan DnD games with the four friends you would hang out with. “Yeah, it takes over people’s brains. Wants to conquer shit like It's a British empire, why does that matter?” 

Looking over to the doorway you saw almost everyone peaking into the bathroom, staring at the two of you. 

“Steve? What’s going on?” 

Looking back at Steve, you saw that he was looking at them too, a hand holding your arm before he focused on you. “Did you have episodes? Like Will’s?” 

You nodded, slowly. Sitting up a bit more, your hand grabbing the one on your arm. How did he know about those? Did somebody tell him?

“When did they stop?” 

“A day or two, after Halloween.”

“Did you have one on Halloween?” Mike asked, suddenly pushing past Dustin and into the room, next to Steve. 

The memory of sitting in your shower, sobbing before it ended and you found Steve in your living room.

“Yeah. . . Why?”

“This Mind Flayer. . . you said it felt like it wanted to kill you?” Hopper asked.

“Wait, are we calling that weird cloud thingy Will and I saw a Mind Flayer?” You inquired. 

Everyone looked at each other, exchanging looks. But then you realized what Hopper said about Will. And the day he started acting weird. The same day you had your last episode. 

“It’s in Will, isn’t it? So. . . if it spies on us, through Will. . . is he gonna try and kill me?” 

“That’s the leading theory.” 

Within a few minutes, you were tucked away in a corner of the kitchen, looking out the window as the shed was basically torn apart, with everything pulled out, so they could take Will in there. 

You didn’t know why the Mind Flayer wanted to hurt you, if it even did. But you were scared, and as usual, you wanted your dad. 

Watching as Steve and Nancy helped Hopper take everything out, you climbed onto the kitchen counter, basically sitting in the empty sink and taking in the backyard that would be a pain to clean up. 

What was El up to? Last you saw her, you told her to ‘call’ you if Hopper agreed to trick or treating. And by call, you meant manipulating your radio in the Volkswagen. But that never happened and so you didn’t get to take her trick or treating like she wanted to. 

“Steve compared the Mind Flayer to Germans.” Jonathan spoke up, walking over to you , handing you a glass of water. 

“You mean. . . Arian Nazies?” You furrowed your brows, looking up at your uncle who shook his head. 

“No, I mean Germans. He said Germans. Dustin called him on it.” Smiling a bit you nodded, looking down at the ice water. Steve could have stupid moments. Especially when he hadn’t gotten sleep since the night before, when you’d gone to Dustin’s cellar. 

A comfortable silence took over, except for the rustling outside where they were setting the shed up to hold Will in. But you knew something was on Jonathan’s mind. You were family after all. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking over to him. 

He shrugged, shaking his head a bit. He fought with himself for a split second before finally talking. “You’ve been here for over a year, and it’s kinda obvious to everyone.” 

“What’s obvious?” You asked, an amused smile on your face while you tilted your head. 

He gave a look, reaching out to your arm and tugging a bit at the sleeve of the jacket. “It’s like 50 degrees outside, and he still let you keep the jacket, even though the radiator’s on.”

You shrugged, “Steve’s forgetful, and when he’s tired he doesn’t seem to remember what kind of weather it is outside.” excusing it you looked at the window, not quite knowing what Jonathan was trying to get at. 

“You know that about him. According to Nancy he knows you usually get from the gas station, and that your favorite movie is Red Dawn after he took you to see it-”

“Nancy wouldn’t have gone, it’s a war movie-”

“Y/n,” he started in a firm, yet affectionate tone as he took the glass from you, setting it on the counter. “You’ve been friends since last year, and he cares about you. A lot.” You were going to say that it was because you were friends, but you knew he would have stopped you. 

“You’re both oblivious.” he scoffed in an amused tone, handing you the water again, before walking out into the backyard. 

Hopping out of the sink, you followed after him, leaving the glass. 

Zipping up the jacket you caught up with Jonathan, grabbing onto his arm and following him to the clothes line where Joyce was taking clothes down so they could use the rope. 

“Jonathan, what are you talking about?” 

You were confused, and frankly? A bit worried. Everything that was going on, and Jonathan was being cryptic and ominous about your friendship with Steve. Talking about the way you guys treated each other and knew things and trusted each other in ways that plenty of other people didn’t. 

Like how you knew that when he cried, it sounded like his entire heart was shattering, and that he wouldn’t be able to put it back together. And how you trusted him to get you home when you were drunk off your ass on New Years eve. How he trusted you enough to share things he usually didn’t, so much to the point where he’d cry in front of you and go to you for comfort, just like you would with him, if everything ever made you cry didn’t revolve around your biggest mistake. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights, clinging onto the hem of the jacket, and staring at the wet grass. 

Was it obvious to everyone else? That you’d trust Steve with your life more than your grandma? More than Hopper? Was it obvious because you didn’t hesitate to punch him when he was being homophobic with Jonathan after committing a hate crime? A hate crime that you tried to make him go fix, that he eventually did after running from the cops. 

Was it obvious because you forgave him so quickly right afterwards? 

You didn’t know where it started or where it ended. 

Was Jonathan implying that you had feelings for your best friend who, time wise, was almost forty years older than you, but biologically only two? 

Or were you making that up in your head? Drawing assumptions of what other people thought without reason? 

But if that was what Jonathan thought, then did you have feelings for Steve? 

No, no of course not, he was just a friend. Right?

• • • 

@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers​ @nxncywheeler​ @yllwtaxi​ @songofcosplay​ @potatopooper05​ @cheesecakeisapie @robinsdolan​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​  @bisexualpears​ @ilovebucketbarnes​ @random-thoughts-003​ @mochminnie  @abbyg217​​ @stevexscoops​​ @cashmereandtears​​ @iris-suoh​​  @supred12​

[iliveinprocrasti-nation]

Go ahead and info dump about literally anything, its almost guaranteed to be more interesting than school

ok so i had to finish some notes for school but the school day has ended so strap on your seatbelts and get ready to hear about some of the cultural/literary effects of tuberculosis because these facts live in my head rent free. i’m hoping these are all correct but if anything isn’t then plz tell me

So tuberculosis has been in and out throughout history. The difference when it came in the Victorian era is that people Did Not Know How To Act. the mid-1800s in Europe and the U.S. was real bad for tb (for background on tb: it’s an infectious disease that goes ham on the lungs and messes with the organs and sometimes the spinal cord and has literally been around since the Neolithic period). It’s treatable and stuff now but it wasn’t really back then. 

So the Victorians looked at this disease that caused people to basically just waste away and, for some reason, decided “wow! romantic!” Tuberculosis was thought as a romantic way to die (one of the names for tb is “consumption”; this’ll come up later particularly because of Lord Byron). Tb was also called “the white plague”. Was it to compare it to other serious diseases, or was it to also give a nod to the fact that it was associated with youth and innocence (many younger people would die from the disease which also gave it the name “the robber of youth”), going so far as to even be associated with holiness? Yes.

So starting in the late 1700s (like... 1780 i think) through the 1800s people looked at tb and they looked at women and they were like “here are your beauty standards, you’re welcome”. One of the symptoms of tb is lack of appetite, so victims would get real skinny. Therefore, being skinny became a majour beauty standard. Fashion also changed to “consumptive chic” where skirts were made bigger and corsets became more pointed so that thin waists became really emphasised (look up some drawings of rich women in dresses and you’ll see what i mean). This actually changed later when they stopped romanticising tb, and corsets were changed to be stretchier because people thought that the pressure put on the ribs and lungs by the stiff corsets of the Victorian era would exacerbate tuberculosis. 

Tb victims also got really pale, but they would have very red lips and cheeks (y’know that funny little disease you see in a lot of period movies when a character has a fever and dramatically coughs blood into a handkerchief before tragically dying? welcome to tuberculosis). So women would use makeup (sometimes arsenic i think but dont quote me on that) to make themselves pale and then colour their lips and cheeks red. It would be an interesting look, can’t say I’m gonna go for it. 

The effects of tuberculosis on culture also are still around today. Suprise! Hemlines rose a few inches because people were like “damn, you see that long skirt?? it is touching the floor. obviously, it is now infested with tuberculosis”. Much smart, very intelligence. You know, the same way they thought it was spread by miasma (pockets of bad air) (they technically weren’t totally wrong but they were definitely not right). A similar reasoning to the skirt was behind facial hair going out of style. Sunbathing?? Started by doctors who would recommend sunlight as a cure for tb.

Now we’re gonna move onto literature and a fun little game I like to call “Did your Victorian fave romanticise tuberculosis?” Do you like John Keats? Lord Byron? Edgar Allen Poe? Robert Louis Stevenson? Emily Brontë? If so, your Victorian fave has, indeed, romanticised tuberculosis (and also maybe died from it like these guys did not have the greatest luck but it could have also been the universe looking at their work and saying “well here you go then ig”). This practice was known as “graveyard poetry”, and I guess it is *technically* a very odd form of coping. Should we bring it back? Perhaps.

Lord Byron is known as having remarked to his friend “I should like, I think, to die of consumption” (a quote that lives in my head rent free because ????). His reason? He thought he could get a lot of chicks because they would obviously pity him and think his dying process was “interesting” (sir are you ok wtf that is not how you get a da-).

Edgar Allen Poe again retains his title as the weirdest motherfucker in the book. So apparently he saw his (first) wife, who eventually died of tuberculosis, cough up blood at the dinner table one day, and his response to this event was saying that all the, yknow, hacking up blood made her look “even more ethereal”. I would just like to say: what the actual fuck. Everyone else kinda paints it as very sad but with a strange beauty to it (understandable ig). Poe has missed that pitch, and has instead chosen to swing at his overall theme that I like to call “unfortunate, but sexy!” 

Emily Brontë did romanticise tuberculosis a little bit, but I think she gets a pass because the majority of her family (her, her brother, her four sisters, and their mother) all died of tuberculosis so I think she just had trauma and dealt with it the best she could.

Also bonus: did tuberculosis give us vampires? I read this somewhere so I’m just gonna add this in. Some people think that vampires are just kinda,,, funky tuberculosis victims I think?? The venn diagram between vampires and tuberculosis victims having red lips, an association with blood, being pale, and just kinda wasting away is a perfect circle.