#still genuinely pondering if i should try online again

[administer-distractions]

.

[sleepy-belphie]

I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗

Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :) 

Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

The success of the program depends on your wellbeing

So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork 

“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”

You always say no

At first, he’s glad you’re staying in 

Because it means less trouble for him

But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here

He’s about to knock when he hears you sob 

Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life

But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken

He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away

He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day

That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food

By then you were are least on top of your sheets

You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always

But this time, his words were different

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” 

He simply nods

And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew

“I...don’t know?”

“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”

Then he’s gone

The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed

So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you

The first night you both listen in comfortable silence

A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it

On night 10 you tell him about the breakup

Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”

He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile

That night you fall asleep before the record finishes

Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair

So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully

He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo

It’s for the program, this is his job

He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything

For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you

Mammon:

He didn’t want to be your babysitter

He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal

Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants

One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans

“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”

He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop

He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face

But the pain in your eyes…

He’s seen that look before

His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith

Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him

You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you

He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else

You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely

“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”

You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right

“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”

He’s shocked when you agree

He makes a point to hang out with you more often

He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human” 

Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer

Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room

Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD

But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his

However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same

So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself

Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over

So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient

Leviathan:

He had been playing one of his games online

He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky

He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode 

Then he loses the first round

He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was

So he rematches them

And loses again

And again

He loses 7 rounds in a row

By this point he is fuming

So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox

Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game

He gets a reply a few minutes later

“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”

You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms

Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later

“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’

You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it

Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know

You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone? 

Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics 

(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)

But you were actually pretty chill for a normie

Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!

You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you

He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes

He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?

He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon

But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item

You never once judged him and his unconventional ways

This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts

It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime

When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love

Levi has seen this anime before actually

He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad

So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life

Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing

Satan:

He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware

He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again

Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room

He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed

He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself

But then you curl up against him and burst into tears

He stands there, not quite sure what to do 

He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while

You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak

He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that

“Would you like some tea?”

He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts

You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now

Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts

Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really

One time you both took a day trip to the human world

Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks

What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel

He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe

Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love

He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind

He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love

But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready

So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend

And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige

Asmodeus:

There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation

Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon

Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters

After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom

But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up

And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it

He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea

You tell him about the breakup

He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!” 

He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default

He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit

He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better

“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”

You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories

Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products

Plus his company is nice

Self-care days become a common occurrence

Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers

He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does

He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice

A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails

He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction

He didn’t want to fuck you

Well he did but not just fuck you

He wouldn’t mind if there was something more

But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing

So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that

You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you

But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day

Beelzebub:

Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel

But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake

After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much

Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime

He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you

“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”

He actually doesn’t have a preference 

He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them

He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating

“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”

You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has

He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount

Or you say you’re getting full

Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything

Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later

Soon after you tell him about the breakup

“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”

There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry

Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest

But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually

He felt good, he felt happy

It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild

But this wasn’t a change he minded too much

He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you

And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now

Belphegor:

He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay

He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did

Frankly, he was impressed

Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you

That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps

One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed

Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy

So he wakes you up

“You’re in my sleeping spot.”

You weren’t in his sleeping spot.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”

“You’re already here. We can both fit.” 

Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep

Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep

What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams

He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about

He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face

You wake up soon after looking confused

“Good dream?”

“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”

Napping together in the living room becomes a routine

And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile

A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good

So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap

He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him

It’s probably Beel

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”

His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him

“I just sorta ended up here.”

“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”

You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed

But he’s blushing

He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder

But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on

So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his

[ggukkieland]

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2020 August

Okay so I’m such a hoe for fics that I probably have about a hundred on queue but I can’t help appreciate all the works that these awesome writers put here on Tumblr and AO3. 

Here’s my attempt to organize my readings - though if my mood fluctuates, I’d just end up going through my reblogged fics for reading or sorting through my watchlist of ongoing/incomplete fics/series

✅ -  done reading   | S (smut) F (fluff) A (angst)

🥕[Ongoing Series - to check weekly]🥕

Dangerous Pairing @nightowls388 - KNJ |  supernatural  au, fantasy au, forbidden romance

[2/?] “Whether you’re a vampire or werewolf, love is still love. Betrayal is still betrayal.”    

Queen Cobra @fantasybangtan - KTH | mafia au, undercover au, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, thriller, s, f,a

[8/?]  when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

Arranged by obiwrites (AO3) - JHS | arranged marriage, unrequited love, angst, pining, jhs in love with someone else

[19/?] If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.

Image, Bad Boy @kittentaegu​ - JJK | badboy, fwb, angst, smut, more angstttt (I binge-read on this for the angst), adorable JJK when he’s not an fboi

[14/?] I chose to read this on AO3. Incomplete, but Ch 14 had such a satisfying ending -  When by chance you walk in on the school’s infamous bad boy, not once, but two different times in one day; your life quickly spirals out of control.

I’ll Sue You, Min Yoongi by hosexi (AO3) - MYG |  neighbors, enemies to lovers, angst, smut, lawyer!reader

[9/10] Yoongi is the neighbor from hell

Whiskey Neat and Whisking Trips by lacielre (AO3) - KTH | comedy, fake dating au, baker!reader, veterinarian!taehyung, funny 😂🤣, ex!Jin

[2/4]  This is a story about the night you poured your heart out to your ex outside his apartment building as a stranger yelled at you to “shut the fuck up,” and that stranger, who was just as wounded as you, was Taehyung, and he needed your help.

His Side, Her Side @scriptaed - JJK | he said, she said, f, a

[11/?] a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be  - one last chapter before series ends 😥

Black Swan @softlyjiminie - PJM | professional dancer, enemies to lovers, fake dating, figure skating, s, f, a

[2/?] a life of skating was all you’d ever known, your heart craving the feeling of ice beneath your feet and the light brush of cool air against your skin under thousands of sparkling lights… what a shame, if only you’d known that one night, one accident could rip you from the life you’d grown to love, leaving your career in the unsteady hands of the prince of ballet, park jimin.

The Key to my Drawer @jjungkookislife - KTH | bestfriends to lovers, s, a

[10/?]  A key, a drawer, and a secret Taehyung planned to take to the grave

The Nanny @jjungkookislife - KSJ| lawyer!seokjin, nanny!reader, single dad au

[2/?] Jin hires a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more

Acatalepsy @1kook - JJK |   survival au, apocalypse au, s, f

[2/?] Jungkook didn’t understand, and the longer he ponders it, he realizes maybe he never will. Some things are just better left unknown, he supposes. But that didn’t mean one had to face them alone. 

Aphrodite in War @jungblue - JJK | angst, exes au, fake dating au, roommates, sorority/frat wars, college au *this is really good 😍😍*

[2/?] Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle… Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.

Palate Cleanser @btsmakesmehappy - KTH | agent au, fwb, strangers to lovers, s, f, a

[5/?] Part of The Company series -  Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

Bad Guy @taehoneys - JJK | college au, fratboy au, badboy, good girl(?), 

[3/?] chose to read this on AO3 A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time…a big one: J e o n J u n g k o o k

Good Girl Series:  Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl  @bonny-kookoo - JJK |  good girl au, bad boy au, roommates, established relationship, s, f, a

[5/?]  Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate, he didn’t quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep And what he definitely didn’t expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined. 

Agent of Love @ppersonna - JJK |  social media au, agent au, s, f, a

[1/?] as the FBI agent assigned to your phone, Jungkook keeps a diligent watch. he takes a special interest when you try your hand in online dating AND online sexting. desperate to keep you from bombing yet another potential date, Jungkook breaks his vow of silence to assist you in your plight to get laid.

Irregular Heartbeat @ppersonnakookies - MYG | social media au, surgeon!yoongi, intern!reader, 

[5/?] hot girl meets hot guy at a bar, lets him buy her a drink, then hooks up with him in the bathroom without even asking for his name. your typical friday night cliché. except for the fact that you’re a virgin, and the guy you drunkenly lose your v-card to is your superior at your new job.

Somewhere Only We Know @userseok - JJK | hybrid au, pining, angst, fantasy, smut

Prequel SOWK 1 SOWK 2 [being revised by author] Epilogue [to be posted]

you’ve been chasing after jungkook for years. after a harsh verbal altercation between both of you, you decide to leave him alone and pursue a relationship with someone who seems genuinely interested in you, thinking he would never return your feelings.

Elysee @ironicarmy - KSJ |  angst, drama, CEO!Seokjin, personal assistant

[1/?] Being the CEO of Korea’s largest fashion house is no easy feat. But to be the person behind the man, that being his assistant, is an even harder spot to maintain. In a company filled with affairs, bribery, deceit, lies and blackmail, you must struggle to survive and, eventually, climb your way to the top of the food chain. Seokjin, your boss, trusts you more than anyone, but when exactly does the line between friendly camaraderie blur with carnal desire? 

Beautiful Deception @jiminwreckedme​ - MYG? | mystery, thriller, ex!yoongi, angst, smut

[3/5] When your ex-boyfriend’s wife goes missing, you are the only one who can help him find her. But in a world where everyone is a friend and everyone is a culprit,  how will you find out what happened to the woman he loves?  Without falling for him all over again?

🥕[Completed AUs/Series/Drabbles -  to read]🥕

One Thing Right @hobios - JJK | fake marriage au, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, smut

01  02  03  04  05  06  07  08  09  ✅ (done, read it twice - this is just perfect ⭐ holy grail status)

Carousel @yoonia - MYG | mafia au, arranged marriage, heirs, CEO!Yoongi, suspense

Index: 16 Chapters & Epilogue | Drabbles and short stories |  Playlist |  Fan Edits

*a re-read this holy grail of a fic 🥰

Risk It @kookiesjoonies - JJK | social media au, exes to lovers, angst, smut ✅

Driving Me Wild @joonkookiemonster - JJK | demon prince!JJK, roommate au, comedy, fluff   ✅ (done reading, this is really cuuute 🥰)

Redefining Destiny @threeletterislife - JJK |  soulmates, enemies to lovers, mafia, fluff, crack, angst

01 02 03 04 05 06 07 (*have to read Yoongi’s story first*)

Rattled @gukslut - JJK | single dad au, angst, pining, enemies to lovers, neighbors, smut 

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three  Chapter Four   Chapter Five  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven  Chapter Eight Epilogue ✅(done)

*was reading this when it was ongoing, but stopped at Ch 5 (angst was too much for my heart 😢) - thrilled to binge-read this from the start 😍

Guarded @xjoonchildx - JHS | mafia au, enemies to lovers, slow burn, tsundere, smut

01 02 03 04 05 06 Epilogue  ✅

Never Falling @yoonia - PJM |  Enemies to Lovers!au, Singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, Assistant!reader, Smut, Angst, slow burn ✅(done)

Spellbound @minflix - PJM |  witches au (sort of based on the secret circle),  smut, comedy, fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers

Lie @yoon-kooks - PJM | angst, fluff, based on movie “Flipped”

0 // 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // FINAL

On the Sidewalk of Champ Elysees @taeramisu = KTH | journalist!KTH, exes to lovers, smut, angst, paris, slow burn

Little Monsters @yoon-bug - MYG | established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, s, f  ✅

Take One @taetaewonderland - MYG | pornstar!yoongi, fanfictionwriter, strangers to lovers, s, f ✅

The Habits of a Broken Heart @softykooky - JJK |  soulmates au, unrequited love, art student!JK, english student!Y/N, angst, fluff, subtle enemies to lovers  ✅(done)

Into the Wilderness @gukyi - PJM | camp counselor au, unrequited love, friends to lovers

Oops @honeyj00ns - JJK | love at first hear, comedy, fluff, smut, “ You don’t know who the wonderful voice singing in the shower is, but you need to know”  ✅

A Song Request @n8dlesoupguk - JJK | drabble, romance,  where you always listen to the same radio station and he lives in the apartment complex opposite of yours ✅

Oh My God, They Were (Quarantined) Roommates @ot7always - JJK | roommates, quarantined life, college, smut, fluff ✅

Your Favorite Cardigan in Summer Nights @prodkkyu - JJK | one shot, angst, high school sweethearts, exes au, summer fling  ✅

Crimson Park @heartbeatan - JJK |  mafia, boss!reader, mystery, angst

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 (Final) ✅

Pranks @mysecretatticsstuff - JJK | enemies to lovers, prank wars, angst, smut, fluff ✅

Too Long, Didn’t Read @fortunexkookie - KTH | college, writers, enemies to lovers, fluff ✅ (done reading, love love this)

You’ve Got Mail @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong - JJK |  Barista!Reader, Graphic Design Student!Jungkook, angst, ex-lovers, enemies to lovers  ✅ (done reading, love this)

Love at First Oink @glodenclosetau- KTH | social media au, neighbors, friends to lovers, piggies 🐽, romance, fluff, comedy ✅ (done - the cutest smau ever)

Sugar @seokjxnnie​ - MYG | ceo!yoongi, escort!reader, personal assistant, smut ✅

Amor Vincit Omnia @sunshyngal - MYG | Mafia au, arranged marriage, angst, violence, drama

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20  ✅

My Euphoria @beyochu​ - JJK | fake dating au, fluff, ceo!jungkook, florist!reader, romance  ✅ (done, really adorable)

All Aboard @ve1vetyoongi​ - KNJ | smut, officeworker!namjoon, enemies to lovers  ✅

[wtfsaidthefox]

Can’t sleep?

Duskwood - Jake x MC - 1779 words - Spoilers for Ep7!

Starts out with MC (who I randomly decided to name Sam) struggling after the events of Ep7, and Jake wanting to comfort her. Ends in self-indulgence fluff, because apparently that's the only way I can imagine Jake.

Under „read more" due to length~

Middle of the Night. She could hear rain coming down, beating against the open window of her bedroom. It wasn't all that cold, but she felt cold, even with her blanket pulled up halfway over her head. There was just a shiver going through her she couldn't shake. By now, she must have been lying in bed for a few hours, trying to find some sleep but dreading it all the same.

It had only been yesterday. Someone she had come to call a friend and care about in these last days… killed, right in front of her. It still didn't feel real. Then again, it felt like the only reality she had left. The pictures didn't leave her. Richy, coughing up blood. Richy, his face slowly growing still and lifeless. The panic taking over her, her heartbeat too loud and too fast in her own ears, that one thought hammering in her head, „do something, do something, do something".

If she'd try to recall her own actions right now, she barely could. She told the others. Desperate, incoherent syllabyles and half sentences. They went through disbelief, shock and denial all in a few seconds, but one of them managed to call the police. They had barely spoken since Richy's body was found, and on her end, she couldn't blame anything but guilt. Maybe they had pushed too much. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she could have done something.

With a small, low groan she reached for her phone. Sleep wouldn’t come, and if, it would come with the same nightmares of last night, so she was tired of fighting for it. Anything else would do.

Opening her phone, she realized that she had an unread message.

Jake.

Between everything falling apart and coming undone, Jake had tried his best to stay calm. But it was even hard for him. ‚He must be so worried‘, she thought, ‚what this could mean for Hannah. Is Hannah dead already too, after all? Will everyone abandon the search for his sister?‘. In truth, he was worried for her.

„Hello Sam. You're probably asleep by now, at least I hope so. I just wanted to ask if you were alright. I mean, whenever you wake up. Please just let me know.“

A slight smile ghosted over her lips. Had someone told her after that first voice distorted phone call that the man under that hoodie would turn out to be such a sweetheart, she'd have laughed at them. But there was really no other word more fitting for Jake. Going through the best, most convincing „I'm all good" standard responses in her head, she noticed the little green dot next to his name. He was online. And just a few seconds later, another message popped up, he had seen her being online too.

„Can't sleep?“

„No. Do you ever sleep?“

„Some times?“

There was a bit of a break. She didn't know what to say, her thoughts a mess and her fingers shaky. Jake started typing. Stopped. Erased the Text. Then again.

„If you can't sleep Sam, I'm here for you.“

„You're sweet Jake.“

This was bittersweet, if she was honest. His care for her made her feel warm for the first time since she crawled under her blanket. But she was also at a loss for words. Shouldn't he focus on Hannah? Did she really deserve his support now? And most of all… how? How could he help her, far way, at some place she didn't even know. But she’d bite her tongue off before admitting to that thought.

„Do you want to talk?“

„You mean Smalltalk? 🤭“

Well, this sounded familiar.

„I would love to Jake, it's just…. I don't even know about what. Anything else would do, but I'm only coming up blank.“

„I'd know something.“

Oh? Now this was new. Curious, she asked him to go ahead.

„While I was in hiding, the only thing I could think of was you. How much I missed you. All the things I wanted to tell you. All the things you didn't know about me yet, but that I wanted to share. Even if I never shared them before, or couldn't even say why it suddenly meant so much to me to tell you. And more then that, all the things I didn‘t yet know about you. All the things I wanted to ask for no other reason then that I want to know you.“

He straightened up in front of his PC. Close to 2 in the night, he hadn't even moved away from his desk yet. Sleep, especially good sleep, had been a stranger to him for so long now, he had given up trying. There was always something on his mind, something to be done, one potential mistake to double check, one preparation more to make. If he was honest, most often, it was pointless. Nothing but his own ghosts from these last months on the run from the governement keeping him awake.

But this time was different. This time, the reason was right.

„You can ask me anything you want Jake“

„What makes you happy?“

Unexpected. Again. She furrowed her brows as she pondered the answer to his question.

„That's a hard one to answer"

„I know. I don't think I could have answered it myself just a short time ago.“

The implication was obvious enough, but still, she needed to hear it. Hear it spelled out.

„But you do now?“

„I do. You. You make me happy.“

She read those words a few times, with a smile on her face, aloud, or in her head in what she imagined his voice to sound like. Jake was normally not too good at reading other peoples emotions, but she couldn't help wondering if he knew how much she had needed to hear that. What those words meant, especially now, when all she was capable of was blaming and doubting herself.

„You make me happy too Jake“

„And that means more to me then I can say. But still, I'd love to hear what else does.“

„Are you planing to use that information against me?“

„Yes. Repeatedly and without fail :)“

How cute could he get? Laughing, she shoke her head and decided to just list everything randomly that would spring to mind.

„Well…. My neighbours, they have this little dog, and every time it sees me in the hallway it's all excited and overjoyed and adorable. That's just infectious. And the first flowers coming out in spring. Every year. Getting to sleep in on Sundays. Getting to hug my friends and family, especially if I haven't seen them for a long time. And seeing them smile. Oh, and you know what? Giving them a present that was just right. You know this horrible feeling of anxiety and impending failure every time you fret over what best to get a loved one for their birthday or on christmas? But then when you hit the nail on the head, and they love it – that has to be one of the best feelings in the world!“

„Of course you would", he answered to the last bit, before she could go on.

„I would what?“

„List giving others presents over receiving them.“

„Well, I'm not complaining about that either 😛 oh, and before I forget to add: parks, forest, beaches – just taking a walk through any of those. Or sitting down for a picnic and just watching the sky. It’s been way too long since I did that last. Have you done that before?“

„No, at least not for a very long time. But I would love to do that with you.“

„As a warning: I will tell you how every single cloud looks like a bunny, or a duck, or my old angry math teacher"

„What if I can identify those clouds first?“

„Then I'm impressed and you get points"

„And what do I get if I have more points then you and win?“

„An actual cloud. So cotton candy.“

She really was the only person that could still make him smile. Just like she was the only one that still made him feel like one day, he could be genuinely happy again himself. That there were people in this world he could trust, no second guessing, no double checking, no constant overthinking every word he said. Talking to her was easy. It made him feel weightless and light-headed, and he had no idea anymore how he had managed to fight those feelings for one second in the beginning.

He had started to tell her, trying to write down just what she meant to him, but in the most unfair contradiction, finding the right words for that was impossibly hard. And given what had just happened, was this really the right time?

Before he could finish debating on hitting send or not, another message popped up.

„Jake…. Is there really a chance for that? Can I really meet you, one day? Because… I wished you were here"

„I know. I wished that too. So I could be with you and support you, more then just with a few words. But I promise you, once this is all over, I'll find a way.“

Yes, he would. He had started to think about how while he had been on the run, and he knew he could make it happen. There was simply no other choice.

Realizing this again, he had deleted his previous attempt at telling her just what exactly she meant to him. Maybe the time wasn't wrong, but the how was. He’d tell her in person. He’d tell her in his own voice, looking into her eyes and seeing her reaction on his face after every single word. And then he‘d tell her again, until she was tired of hearing it.

Which she would probably never be. She felt herself exhaling, letting go of a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding in, as she read his answer to the question she had been so afraid to ask. Which she should have asked sooner, because his answer brought her more relief then she could have hoped. It was exactly how he could help her, more then anyone else, no matter where he was right now.

„Thank you Jake"

„:)“

„I'll reserve all the prettiest picnic places in all the nearby parks 😉“

„Well I hope there are a lot, so we get to spent a lot of time together.“

„There are! Though at some point we will probably also have to think of something else 🤭“

„Looking back at your previous reply, I guess I’d get you flowers next. Or hugs. Or a dog. I'll decide spontaneously :P“

[alphadaddyderek]

Not all math puns are awful, just sum (sterek fic, high school au)

ao3 link: click if you dare

summary: ’what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100’

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

AU where Stiles and Derek have to share a textbook and they write terrible math puns back and forth to each other.

Stiles sincerely, genuinely, regrets taking AP classes.

Well, kinda.

They would look great on his resume. Colleges wouldn’t even second guess accepting him and he would receive so many scholarships which would help his dad big time.

AP classes will also raise his GPA crazy high which, again, looks great to colleges.

Sometimes they just suck.

His AP Statistics class is definitely #1 on the ‘classes that suck straight ass list’.

It’s boring and it can be kinda hard. Plus it’s math so it’s automatically gross.

Stiles is good at math, but it’s not his forte, that’s more Lydia Martin’s thing.

Anyway, Beacon Hills High had to have some budget cuts this year, like, serious budget cuts. The sports teams are lucky that people care about people throwing balls all over the place, otherwise they would’ve gotten cut too.

Since the school has had budget cuts, the students don’t get individual textbooks anymore. Meaning, that they can only use it during class and then they have to leave it in the classroom for the next class to use.

So, yeah.

It’s the third week of junior year, AP Stat is as boring as always. He has Lydia to talk to sometimes but she has other friends in the same class, so he's not always entertained.

The teacher didn’t really care about whether or not students did the work, he just played chess on his computer the whole class anyway. He gave the page number that we were supposed to work on and that was that.

Stiles prefers that to lectures, but still. When he’s done the work there’s nothing left for him to do. He could go on his phone, but even that gets boring eventually.

What he’s trying to say is that he’s bored, okay?

Turning to the page that the teacher assigned, Stiles is shocked and wildly amused, to already see writing on the margins of the page. He figured it would take at least half the school year before people started vandalizing the textbooks. Although, it’s written in pencil so it’s easily erasable.

When Stiles actually reads what was written he snorts. Luckily, it’s loud in the class so the most attention he gets is when Lydia shoots him a weird look which he ignores.

'what is the probability that anyone will pass this fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100'

Stiles shakes his head because that was such a bad math joke that it was actually kinda funny. And, based on the expressions on people’s faces during class, also very true.

Should he write something back? Stiles doesn’t know if the person who wrote this is hoping for a response, or if they wrote in the book because they’re just as bored as Stiles is.

Eh, fuck it. Why not?

'i think there is statistical data to back up your theory’

Stiles snickers at his equally bad math joke before finally deciding to focus on the actual work. He didn’t want to be one of the ones who didn’t pass the class, because that would suck. So he does the work and for the remainder of the class he lets out a giggle or two every once in a while because even though he’s 16 years old, he apparently still has the sense of humor of a child.

π π π

It’s the next class and honestly, Stiles kind of forgot about the writing in the textbook. After he left that class he went to AP Geography where there was immediately a test, which he nailed by the way. Plus, with all his other classes, he just didn’t think it was important to remember a bad, but still funny, math joke in a textbook.

The teacher assigns them another page number full of questions to work on. And, just like last time, there’s writing in the margins.

‘i’m sorry, that was pretty mean of me to say’

That one has Stiles laughing out loud. Not too loud though, because he doesn’t have that much of a death wish. He just laughs loud enough to make Lydia send him another weird look, except this time Lydia questions him about it.

“What is so funny?” she asks, twirling her hair with her pencil.

Stiles shakes his head. “Nothing really. Just somebody writing lame math jokes on the book pages.”

“Well, you’re laughing at them. So doesn’t that make you lame as well?”

Stiles dramatically gasps.

“Wow, Lydia, that was pretty mean of you to say,” Stiles replies before bursting into more laughter.

At this point, Lydia is looking at him like he has brain damage but he really can’t bring himself to care. It’s hilarious and if she doesn’t think so then oh well. Her loss.

Well, she doesn’t know that that was the joke inside the textbook, but still, whatever.

It’s funny.

π π π

By this point, it’s kind of like Stiles and this unknown jokester are pen pals.

It’s been a week filled with terrible math jokes and Lydia probably losing more and more respect for him as the days pass.

He’s told Scott about his little pen pal and of course, Scott doesn’t really get it, but he’s supportive nonetheless.

It’s a Friday night and Scott is at Stiles’ house. They’re playing video games and eating so much pizza that Stiles will be bloated for an entire week.

Thankfully, his dad is on the night shift, otherwise, he would be heavily judgmental of Stiles’ life choices.

After several rounds of Mario Kart, they take a break to eat said pizza and talk a bit.

“So,” Scott takes a huge bite of his slice. “how are you and your math buddy doing?”

Stiles takes a bite of his own slice. “Why are you asking? Jealous?”

Scott laughs. “Oh yeah, I’m so jealous. Please, Stiles, make terrible math jokes with me.”

Stiles flips Scott off. “You only mock because you really are jealous.”

Scott rolls his eyes and then the topic is dropped.

At least for the next hour or so. Then after that, it gets brought back up.

“Do you think it’s weird to have a crush on someone you’ve never met?” Stiles asks, playing with a loose thread on his jeans.

Scott looks at Stiles, and Stiles does not want to see the weird look Scott has on his face so he continues looking down.

“You have a crush on this person?”

Stiles shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re funny, and obviously, they’re smart if they’re in AP Stat. I would like to meet this person though, maybe. I don’t know.”

Stiles feels his cheeks heating up.

Scott nudges Stiles with his elbow. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not weird at all. It’s kinda like online dating, but like medieval style.”

Stiles can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. “What?”

It’s like medieval style! ‘Cause, it’s in a book. Instead of online.”

Scott is always able to make Stiles feel better, no matter the situation. His goofiness especially lightens his mood.

“Okay, Scott. Are we going to go jousting next?”

“I don’t know. What you guys do on your first date is none of my business,” Scott says with a sly smile.

Stiles snorts and grabs a pillow off the couch behind them and smacks Scott in the face with it, resulting in a pillow fight ensuing.

And if anybody asks, Scott did not win. He didn’t!

π π π

2 weeks after he and Scott had that talk, Stiles continues talking with his pen pal. Although, maybe Stiles is looking too deep into this, but it kind of seems like flirting now?

Hear him out.

In the margins, the person started adding smiley faces and winky faces after every message.

Ooh and they actually put their initials! D.H.

Stiles doesn’t think he knows anyone in school with those initials. Granted, Stiles isn’t exactly a social butterfly so he’s not doubting their existence at all.

AP Stat only has 5 minutes left in the class. Stiles has already embarrassed himself in front of Lydia more times than he can count, so he decides to ask Lydia if she knows someone with those initials.

She purses her lips. “Why do you ask?”

Stiles sighs inwardly before answering. “Uh, well. I was just...wondering. Ya know. Trying to expand my friend circle.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow. And Stiles sighs outwardly this time.

“Fine. You know the jokes that were in the book?”

“You mean from like a month ago?”

“Well...we’ve kinda been continuing to exchange jokes and notes and stuff. And then recently they put their initials. Or, at least I think it’s their initials. I don’t know what else it would be. So, yeah.”

Lydia looks at him for a moment before her lips curl up into a smile. “You mean you’ve finally found someone who has a worse sense of humor than you?”

Stiles returns the smile. “I’ll have you know, my sense of humor is advanced. Way too advanced even for you.”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, the only name that comes to mind is Derek Hale.”

Stiles chokes on his own spit. “Derek Hale? You mean the star of the basketball team? The guy with eyes that are like fifty different colors and bunny teeth that would look ridiculous on anyone else but he somehow looks gorgeous with them? That Derek Hale?”

“Yes. Other than that, I don’t know anyone else with those initials.”

“Does he take AP Stat?”

Lydia shrugs. Stiles takes that as a no.

There’s no way that Derek Hale is the one writing these notes. No way in hell. Stiles isn’t that lucky.

Plus, even if Derek is the one writing these, hypothetically speaking, Derek wouldn’t be interested in him. Don’t get Stiles wrong, he knows he’s a pretty attractive guy. But nobody in this school is as attractive as Derek Hale. Let's be real here.

Okay, maybe Danny. Danny is kinda gorgeous.

But besides Danny, nobody is even on the same level as Derek.

Well, Lydia is too.

Okay, dammit. People are on the same level as Derek Hale. The point is that Stiles isn’t.

Stiles sighs for what seems like the eighth time in. “Okay. Thanks.”

Lydia gives him a scrutinizing look before nodding and getting on her phone.

Stiles sits there and ponders why his life is like this before deciding that he must've done something to piss off fate in a past life. Pleased with his conclusion, Stiles shoves his notebook and pencils into his backpack just in time for the bell to ring.

π π π

Okay, so, Stiles must be going crazy.

When he saw that his pen pal had written his initials he figured, ‘hey, I might as well do the same. It’s only decent right?’ so he had, and ever since then Derek Hale has been shooting him looks in the hallway.

Maybe he’s hallucinating, because Derek Hale is, well, Derek Hale. Out of everyone in the hallway, why would he be looking at Stiles?

Also, Stiles can’t be the only person in the school with the initials S.S. although, he probably is the only S.S. that’s taking AP Stat so there’s that.

Stiles doesn’t know what to do, should he wave? Shoot him a smile?

Actually no, he should do neither of those things because if he does, and Derek actually wasn’t looking at him, that would be so unbelievably embarrassing. So embarrassing that Stiles would have to transfer schools immediately.

Stiles shakes his head and opens up his locker to gather his things for his next class. When he closes the locker Derek is standing right there like they’re in a horror movie and Stiles jumps so hard that he drops his notebook.

“Shit. Sorry,” Derek says and bends down to swipe Stiles’ notebook off the floor.

“No, it’s okay. You’re awfully quiet for an athlete.”

Stiles holds his hand out for his notebook but Derek doesn’t seem all that interested in returning it to him just yet. Derek looks at the front of his notebook.

“Hmm. AP Stat. Interesting.”

Stiles bites his lip and nods. “Yep,” he says popping the ‘p’. “it is interesting. Well, actually it’s not. AP Stat is yuck sometimes and it can get boring but it’ll look great on my resume so.”

Derek nods. He looks at Stiles for a few more seconds before he opens his mouth, and the second he does, Stiles’ stomach fills with butterflies.

“What is the probability that anyone will pass that fucking class? I’m thinking 1 in 100.”

Stiles bites his lip to stifle his smile. He doesn’t want to cheese like an idiot in front of Derek Hale but he thinks that ship has already sailed cause Derek’s lips stretch into a big smile.

Stiles clears his throat. “I think there is statistical data to back up your theory.”

“Oh, is there?” Derek asks, smile turning into a smirk.

Stiles nods then looks at his notebook that is still in Derek’s hand. “Can I have my notebook now? I’m not sure what exactly you’re plotting but I don’t like it.”

Derek scrunches his face up. “Wow, that was bad.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes. “Like yours were any better.”

Derek shrugs, smile returning to his face. “I thought my mean joke was pretty hilarious.”

“Yeah, hilariously bad. I didn’t laugh at all, not one bit.”

Derek looks like he doesn’t believe a word Stiles just said, which is fair, he shouldn’t.

“So,” Derek begins, eyes boring into Stiles’— seriously, what is up with Derek’s eyes? — “what is the probability that you will give me your number?”

Stiles pretends to think about it for a second. “I'm thinking 100 in 100.”

[ifuckinglovestvincent]

St Vincent: “Pour a Drink, Smoke a Joint... That’s the Vibe”

Ding dong! Daddy's Home

By Johnny Davis

19/03/2021

Annie Clark, known professionally as St Vincent, picked up a guitar aged 12 after being inspired by Jimi Hendrix. During her teens she worked as a roadie and later tour manager for her aunt and uncle, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti. Originally from Oklahoma, she moved to Dallas, Texas when she was seven and later attended the Berklee College of Music in Boston, Massachusetts for three years, before dropping out.

Clark worked as a touring musician with the Polyphonic Spree and Sufjan Stevens, before releasing Marry Me, her first album as St Vincent, in 2007. By her fifth album, 2017’s Masseduction, she had become one of the most celebrated artists in music, the first solo female artist to win a Grammy Award for Best Alternative Album in 20 years.

She became unlikely Daily Mail-fodder around the same time, thanks to an 18-month relationship with Cara Delevingne, and later Kristen Stewart. Her ever-changing music, dressing up-box image and head-spinning well of ideas have seen her compared to David Bowie, Kate Bush and Prince. To complete the notion of her being the "artist's artist", in 2012 she collaborated with David Byrne on the album Love This Giant.

Indeed, she is surely one of few performers today who could stand in for Kurt Cobain with what’s-left-of-Nirvana, performing “Lithium” at their induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2014, as well as cover “Controversy” at a Prince tribute concert in 2020, with such guitar-playing fireworks its author would surely have approved.

Following the glam-influenced pop of Masseduction, St Vincent has performed another stylistic handbrake turn. Complete with a new image – part-Warhol Superstar, part-Cassavetes heroine – she has mined the textures of the music she loved most as a kid: the virtuoso rock of Steely Dan, the clipped funk of Stevie Wonder and blue-eyed soul of mid-Seventies' David Bowie, on her upcoming album, Daddy’s Home.

The title refers to Clark's own father, locked up in Texas for 12 years in 2010, for money laundering in a stock manipulation scheme, one in which he and his co-conspirators cheated 17,000 investors out of £35m. It is also, in typical Clark style, a bit of saucy slang.

Back on the promotional trail, Clark Zoomed in from Los Angeles one morning recently – fully caffeinated and raring to go. “My vices?” she pondered. “Too much coffee, man…”

What question are you already bored of being asked?

There’s not one that’s popping out. There’s no question where I’m like “Oh God, if I ever hear that again, I’ll jump off a building.” I’m chill.

I mention it because prior to releasing your last record you put out a pre-recorded “press conference”, seemingly to pre-empt every inane question the media would throw at you.

It’s so funny. It didn’t really occur like that. Originally that was supposed to be a legit green screen conference. Like, “I’ll just answer these questions ‘cos when they need to have me on ‘The Morning Show’ in Belarus they can have this and put their own graphics behind it”. But then when my friend Carrie Brownstein [collaborator and Sleater-Kinney vocalist-guitarist] and I started writing it and it became very snarky. For some reason it didn’t occur to me that “Oh, that might be off-putting or intimidating to journalists” I just thought "This is silly”. So anyway… I understand.

We're curious about your dad and the American legal system.

I have had a lot of questions about that. For some reason it didn’t occur to me how much I would be answering questions about… my hilarious father!

How do you view his time in prison?

Just that life is long and people are complicated. And that, luckily, there’s a chance for redemption or reconciliation, even after a really crazy traumatic time. And also anybody that has any experience with the American justice system will know this... nobody comes out unscathed.

You recently presented an online MasterClass: "St. Vincent Teaches Creativity & Songwriting". One of the takeaways: “All you need are ears and ideas, and you can make anything happen”. Who’s had the best ideas in music?

Well, you’ve got to give credit to people who were genuinely creating a new style – like if you think of Charlie Parker, arguably he created a new style. This hard bop that was just absolutely impossible to play. It was, like, “Check me out – try to copy me!” So, that’s interesting. I think Brian Eno, for sure, has some great ideas about music – and obviously has made some of the best music. Joni Mitchell – completely singular. I mean: think about that. There are some people who are actually inimitable – like, you couldn’t possibly even try to imitate them.

It’s a brave soul who covers a Joni Mitchell song. Although, apologies if you actually have.

No, I have not. And there’s a reason why not. Come on – Bowie. Bowie never repeated himself. David Byrne also didn’t repeat himself. He took all of his influences of classic songs and the disco that was happening at the time, and the potpourri of downtown New York music from the mid- to late Seventies… and synthesised it into this completely new, other thing. I mean, that’s impressive. Those are the ones we remember.

How hard is it not to repeat yourself?

It’s whether people have the Narcissus thing or not. Like, it’s always got to be a balance where you’re, like, “Well, I need to believe in myself to make something and be liberated. But I can’t look at that pond of my previous work and go ‘Oh you! You’re gorgeous!’” So I don’t go back and listen to things I’ve done. I finished Daddy’s Home in the fall and it was, like, “This is done” and it felt great. I loved the record and it was so fun to make. But what I did immediately afterwards was to write something completely different. But then I don’t know, ‘cos there are people who do the thing that they do just great. And you just want to hear more songs, in the style of the thing that they do great.

Right. No one wants an experimental Ramones album.

Exactly. Or, like, or a Tom Petty record. I don’t want a tone poem from Tom Petty! I want a perfectly constructed, perfectly written completely singalongable three-chord song.

The new album has a very “live” Seventies feel. I’d read that some of the tracks are first takes. Can that be right? It all sounds very complicated.

That’s not right. I should say [rock voice] "Yeah, that’s right, we just jammed…" But, you know, I’ll be honest. There are some vocal takes in there that are first takes. But it really is just the sound of people playing. We get good drum takes. And good bass takes. And I play a bunch of guitar and sitar-guitar. And it’s the sound of a moment in time, certainly. And way more about looseness and groove and feel and vibe than anything else [I’ve done before].

Amazing live albums, virtuoso playing, jamming – those were staples of Seventies music. Have we lost some of that?

I mean, I can wax poetic on that idea for a minute. In the Seventies you had this tremendous sophistication in popular music. Stevie Wonder, Steely Dan and funk and soul and jazz and rock…. and all of the things rolled into one. That was tremendously sophisticated. It just was. There was harmony, there were chord progressions.

What else from that decade appealed to you for Daddy’s Home?

It reminds me of where we are now, I think. So, 1971-1976 in downtown New York, you’ve got the Summer of Love thing and flower children and all the hippy stuff and it’s, like, “Oh yeah, that didn’t work out that well. We’re still in Vietnam. There’s a crazy economic crisis, all kinds of social unrest”. People stood in the proverbial burned-out building. And it reminds me a lot of where we are today, in terms of social unrest, economic uncertainty. A groundswell wanting change... but where that’s headed is yet to be seen. We haven’t fully figured that out. We’re all picking up pieces of the rubble and going “Okay, what do we do with this one? Where do we go with that one?” Being a student of history, that was one of the reasons why I was drawn to that period in history.

Also: that’s the music I’ve listened to more than anything in my entire life. I mean, I was probably the youngest Steely Dan fan. It didn’t make me that popular at sleepovers. People were, like, “I want to listen to C+C Music Factory” and I was, like, “Yeah, but have you heard this solo on [Steely Dan’s] ‘Kid Charlemagne’”? That music is so in me. It’s so in my ears and I feel like I never really went there [making music before]. And I didn’t want to be a tourist about it. It’s just that particular style had a whole lot to teach me. So I wanted to just dig in and find out. Just play with it.

Is there a style of music you don’t like?

That I don’t like?

You're a jazz fan...

I love jazz. Are you kidding me? I was that annoying 14-year-old who was, like, “Yeah, but have you listened to Oliver Nelson’s The Blues and the Abstract Truth?”

I love jazz. Are you kidding me? I was that annoying 14-year-old who was, like, “Yeah, but have you listened to Oliver Nelson’s The Blues and the Abstract Truth?”

That does sound quite precocious for a 14-year-old.

It’s annoying. Just insufferable. [Thinking aloud] What music don’t I like….? Here’s what can happen. And I feel like it’s similar to when an actor has some lines in a script and they’re not very good – not very well-written – so they overcompensate by making it very dramatic and really overplaying it. I would say that is a style of music that I don’t really like. Where somebody has to really oversell it and it all feels… athletic. Instead of musical or touching.

Did you put your lockdown time to constructive use?

If you need any mediocre home renovations done, I’m your girl. It was fun. I did – let’s see now – plumbing, electrical, painting. Luckily there’s YouTube, so you can more or less figure it all out. I did a lot of that stuff and I have to say it was such a nice contrast to working on music all day. Because when you’re working on music you have to create the construct of everything. You’re, like, “I need to make this song. But what is this song?” Everything is this kind of elusive castle in the sky thing. But then, if you go and sand a deck, you’ve done something. It feels really good. And it’s not, like, “What is a deck? And who am I?” You’re just, like, “This is a task and I get to do it and I can see how the mechanism works I understand it it’s not esoteric – it’s simply mechanical". I can do something mechanical. I loved it.

Which bit of DIY are you most pleased with?

Painting the kitchen cabinets. That’s a real job. We’re talking sanding. We’re talking taking things off hinges. We’re talking multiple coats. The whole lacquer-y thing at the end. That. I’m, like, “That looks pretty pro”.

What colour did you go for?

Oh, you know, it’s just a sort of… teal. But classy teal.

Of course.

Yeah. The wallpapering wasn’t as successful. But, you know, that’s fine. So that was really fun. And then I also went down a history rabbit hole. I realised I had some gaps in my knowledge about the Russian Revolution and life under the Iron Curtain and the gulags and Stalin and Lenin. So, I went down that hole. And then I was like “Oh I forgot – I haven’t read any Dostoevsky”. So I have been working on his short stories – which are great. And then Solzhenitsyn I really liked – I mean liked is a strange word to use for The Gulag Archipelago. I read Cancer Ward… All of them. I recommend all of it. And then, before that, it was a big Stasi kick. I can’t remember the last time I had time to brush up on the Russian Revolution.

There’s a lyric on “The Laughing Man”, “If life’s a joke… then I’m dying laughing”. It’s also on your new merchandise. What do you think happens when we die?

Nothing.

This is it?

Yeah. I mean, I understand that it would be comforting to think otherwise. That there might be a special place. It would be nice! The thought’s never really been able to stick for me. I would say that we are made of carbon and then we get subsumed back into the Earth and then eventually we become life again – in the carbon part of our makeup.

Well, that sounds better than an endless void.

I don’t think it would be an endless void.

In what ways are you like your mum and dad?

Let’s see. Well, my mother is a precious angel who has unwavering optimism. She is incredibly intelligent and also very nonjudgmental and able and happy to explore all kinds of possibilities. Saying that, though… it’s sounding not like me at all. I’m like my father in that I think we have very similar tastes in books, films, music and a very similar sense of humour. My mother’s so kind that it’s hard for me to… Her level of kindness and decency is aspirational to me.

How famous are you, on a scale of one to 10?

God, I mean, like, “TikTok Famous” probably a one, right? I’m gonna say – I don’t know about the number system – but I’m going to say I-occasionally-get-a-free-appetiser-sent-over famous. Which is a great place to be.

What do you look for in a date?

It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date. You know, I once read something, it might have been something cheesy on a card, but [it was]: if you don’t like someone, then the way they hold their fork will bother you. But, if you like someone – or love someone – they could spill an entire plate of spaghetti on your lap and you wouldn’t mind.

You play a zillion instruments. What’s the hardest instrument to play?

Well, I can’t play horns or anything like that. The French horn is supposed to be really hard. I don’t like to blag… but I’m an incredible whistler. Like, I can whistle Bach.

Is Bach a particularly tough whistle?

I think… yeah. It’s fast. And noodly.

What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we're out of lockdown?

I’m gonna get a manicure and a pedicure and a massage. Massage from a stranger. Any stranger.

What about a night on the tiles?

I will probably attend a dinner party.

That sounds quite restrained.

It sounds hella boring. Sorry.

Clubbing?

No, I don’t really go to clubs. I think in order to go to clubs you have to be a person who likes to publicly dance. And I don’t publicly dance. I mean I would feel too shy to dance at a wedding. But for some reason I will dance on stage in front of 10,000 people.

That’s why alcohol was invented.

Exactly! But I swear I would reach the point of alcohol sickness before I would be drunk enough to dance.

The effects of drugs on creativity: discuss.

Unreliable. Really unreliable. Sometimes after a day’s work in the studio you’re like, "I’m gonna have shot of tequila and then sing this a few more times, and then play". It’s okay but you peak sort-of quickly. You can’t sustain the level without getting tired. And then I would say that weed just makes me paranoid and useless. Every once in a while some combo of psychedelics can get you someplace. But, for the most part, you either come back to [the work] the next day and you’re, like, “This is garbage” or you get sleepy or hungry or distracted and you’re not really doing anything. I’ve never had opiates. Or coke or whatever. So I don’t know. I can’t speak to that. But with the slightly more G-Rated [American movie classification: All Ages Permitted] thing, it doesn’t really help.

What do you have too many of in your wardrobe?

I’m not a hoarder. I tend to have one thing that I get really obsessed with and then I wear it every day. Some people, having a whole lot of things gives them a sense of safety and security. It gives me anxiety. I can’t think if there’s too much visual noise. If there was a uniform that I could wear every day I would absolutely do that. And at certain times I have.

Like Steve Jobs?

Or, oh God, what’s her name? The Theranos lady… Elizabeth Holmes!

The blood-test-scam lady?

Well, I guess it was unclear how much of it was self-delusion and how much of it was, you know, actual fraud.

Another black turtleneck fan.

And – again, this is unconfirmed – she also adopted a very low voice like this in order to be taken seriously as a CEO.

Like Margaret Thatcher.

Did she have a low voice?

She made hers “less shrill”.

Oh yes. Yes!

What movie makes you cry?

The Lives of Others

That’s a good one.

Right. I rewatched that during my Stasi kick.

I’ll be honest, your lockdown sounds even less fun than everyone else’s.

I mean… Look, I had to educate myself. I went to a music college [Berklee College of Music] where I tried to take the philosophy class and the way that they would talk about it… it was taught by this professor who was from one of the neighbouring colleges in Boston. And it was very clear that he really disliked having to talk Kierkegaard to a bunch of music school kids. He was just so bummed by it. I’m trying to learn, “What’s the deal with Kant?” and he felt he had to explain everything only in musical terms [because he assumed it would be the only thing music students could relate to]. Like, “Well, you know, it’s like when Bob Marley…" I’m, like, “No, no, no! I don’t want that!” So I had to educate myself. This is where its led me.

Where should we ideally listen to Daddy’s Home?

Put it on a turntable. Pour yourself a glass of tequila or bourbon – whatever your favourite hooch is – and smoke a joint and listen to it. I think that’s the vibe.

Daddy’s Home is released on May 14

[yamayuandadu]

Rider of Clouds (again)

After going through more sources on Ugaritic mythology and the “storm god versus the sea” motif as a whole in Anatolia, Levant, Egypt and Mesopotamia, I decided to post about the characters meant for my loose Baal Cycle retelling again.

Baal (middle) – the eponymous Rider of Clouds, a young weather deity born to Dagon and Shalash, largely retired agricultural gods who settled in Ugarit shortly before Baal's birth. While the mythical  Baal Hadad is male, my version is a woman – the idea started as a joke about conflating Baal from the Baal cycle with Baalat Gebal, a female figure associated with another levantine bronze age city (BG's actual identity is an object of much scholarly debate) being more valid than conflating him with much later Baal Hammon from Carthage, which happens a lot online, but I got attached to it (a certain artifact which is variously interpreted as representing either a short-haired noblewoman or a prince was a factor too) so now here we are.  She nonetheless uses a male title inherited from her father, much like a few historical female rulers did. In my version “Hadad” is only a nickname, and her real name is actually Hebat, who is a goddess mentioned in one inscription as Dagan's daughter. As the levantine/syrian Hebat lacks a defined character in real mythology (another Hebat was regarded as the Hittite storm god's wife but was replaced in this role by the sun goddess of Arinna and that's about it) it should be fine to conflate her with Dagan's best attested divine child, I think. Baal is impulsive and follows a moral code which, depending on the point of view, might be either naive or heroic, which means she's not exactly the optimal person to get involved in n-dimensional divine politics, but that's not enough to stop her from trying. The story documents her rise to the position of the head god of Ugarit's pantheon. Astarte (right) – a goddess of uncertain origin and no particularly well defined attributes, who attaches herself to Baal initially in hopes of advancing own career, though the two eventually develop a more genuine relationship. She patterns herself after the much more famous Mesopotamian Inanna, seeing her as an ideal to strive for – especially when it comes to trickery. While Baal has the name recognition and disposition fitting for a major deity, Astarte is the part of the duo actually capable of navigating politics, and takes the title of Face of Baal, negotiating support for Baal's bid with other gods. The image of Baal she projects differs slightly from reality, though not enough for most onlookers to notice. Ignore the crescent moon diadem, it'll be replaced as soon as I'll draw her again. Anat (left) – the younger daughter of Ugarit's head god, El. Her philosophy differs greatly from her parents' and as a result she isn't really seriously considered for succession. Her hobbies include bladed weapons, gambling and heroic epics; in the past she attempted writing her own self insert one. She's deeply invested in Baal's ascendance, and is probably the god Astarte wants to recruit for their cause the most.

El and Asherah – the ruling couple of Ugarit, currently pondering retirement, which stirs many contenders to the throne into action. El is a lifelong opportunist changing views and allegiances as he sees fit, though he pretty consistently favors Yam as his main underling. His wife (image tbd) generally holds similar views, though has some qualms about Yam's rise to power.

Kothar-wa-Khasis – a craftsman god who, by own admission, only works part time in Ugarit and travels the world for the rest of it. He's kind and dependable and his wares are both affordable and of great quality, but his real motives are hard to ascertain. His real identity is likewise a subject of much speculation among other gods – while his preferred manner of clothing hints at an egyptian origin, nothing is known for sure. He's also a talented musician. Shapash – El's firstborn daughter, serving as “the torch of the gods”, guaranteeing Ugarit gets its fair share of sunlight. Her political allegiance is unknown.

Yam – a sea monster more than a god, presiding over the nearby section of the sea and all that dwells in it, including the sea slugs important for the human inhabitants of the area. He's also the son of the influential Anatolian god Kumarbi, banished to the underworld by the current head god Teshub. As a result of his influence, he gained El's support and received many titles, which de facto makes him the most likely to succeed El as the king of local pantheon.  He's capricious and inconsiderate, but maintains a larger than life public image meant to make him palatable to potential backers. The circumstances of his arrival in Ugarit are shrouded in mystery, and may or may not be relate for his unusually strong hatred of Baal. Ashtar (image tbd) – an opportunist who sides with Yam, hoping to receive a share in the gains he's making thanks to El's blessings. He's pretty content with playing the role of a toady though his aspirations might be different, as evidenced by his gaudy fashion preferences. Yam’s messenger (image tbd) – an attempt at developing an obscure figure from the original myth, Yam's nameless and seemingly rather rude and infuriating messenger, into a full blown character. His real identity is a mystery. He interned under a variety of famous mythical villains in order to gain a greater understanding of their ways, and currently serves as Yam's messenger, adviser, doorkeeper and punching bag. Mot – profoundly unpleasant and unsociable being tasked with maintaining Ugarit's very own underworld. While his equivalents in neighboring cultures generally view themselves as impartial judges or a necessary evil, Mot gets his kicks from posing as a personification of death itself, and is notoriously corrupt.

Marduk – the tutelary deity of Babylon, reigning as the king of gods of most of Mesopotamia and its neighbors. While technically Ugarit isn't directly under his control, he still is the god whose confirmation is necessary to rise to the position of the head of a local pantheon. He doesn't have a unified mythical narrative about himself yet at this point in time, despite his position, which is a source of insecurity for him. During travels, he's assisted by his personal aide and biographer, Nabu, and his pet. Seth – in real life, ancient Egyptians equated many gods of their neighbors with Seth; therefore in Rider of Clouds Seth serves as an ambassador of the Egyptian pantheon. While ultimately Marduk's judgment matters the most, Seth gets the right to veto his decisions when it comes to validating claims to local thrones. On good terms with Kothar-wa-Khasis, which is a subject of much gossip among other gods. Teshub – the head of the Hittite and Hurrian pantheon, technically capable of projecting the most power in Ugarit's politics; however, as the gods of Ugarit share closer affinity with Mesopotamia than Hatti, he competes with Marduk for political influence. As he and Baal are a very similar type of god, he's the most outspoken supporter of Baal's ascension to the throne out of all 3 foreign dignitaries. Ignore the ?, it’s just Baal. Gupan and Ugar – two minor gods who might be some of the only allies Baal recruited herself rather than with Astarte's help. They play a minor role in the story as her messengers and heralds. They're also a couple. Kubaba – a pretender to the throne of the head deity of the pantheon of Carchemish, a city-state close to Ugarit. Involved with the Hittite Sun Goddess of the Underworld in some capacity. This is, however, not their story. If you follow my oc posts you can probably guess which one is about them.

[lgcalec]

@lgcyura backtracked to june 8, 2021

oh my god was she in trouble. like, big, BIG trouble. was she overreacting? maybe. was it for a good reason (in her opinion)? yes. after all, it was alec’s birthday and while they’ve celebrated many of their birthdays together already, this time would be the first since they started dating–honestly, a part of her still couldn’t believe they were boyfriend and girlfriend now, and that it’s been almost half a year at that–and she wanted to do a good job. a present from your girlfriend seemed more important than one from just your friend but unfortunately, seo yura was bad at picking gifts.

what’s even worse is that alec’s gift to her on her birthday last year was amazing - and they weren’t even dating then. how could she top that? even if she likes him, yura refused to lose because her competitive streak wouldn’t let her but she would really need to work hard to figure out what to get him. yura knew alec would probably say he’d be happy with anything she’d give him but she didn’t want a response like that, she wanted to give him something good (or at least, meaningful, and not just something she picked randomly or without thought) since he deserved it.

but what was ‘good’? yura spent weeks pondering over this, searching up articles and lists of ‘best gifts to give your boyfriend’ for ideas, casually checking out men’s stores and gift shops if she happened to pass by one, even asking some friends for advice (of course, she tried to be vague about who she was buying a gift for) until she finally settled on something.

in a white box, wrapped in a red ribbon and bow on top, are two phone cases that made her think of alec (one of a cute dog–that was actually matching with the cat version she bought herself because she couldn’t help it okay?!–and one with three dogs that was more minimalist so he could alternate and because she didn’t want to make it obvious that they had couple cases – or in the case he didn’t like it), surrounded by some of his favourite snacks and candies. on top was a hat she hoped–prayed–he’d like along with a card that had a message written inside (that yes, she did agonize over for a while just to decide if she should end it with “love, yura” or not).

happy birthday, alec!! ◡̈ you said you’re not that good at presents but neither am i so i guess this is why we get along? i’m kidding! i did try to get you something you might like AND you could use so i hope i didn’t fail… if you don’t like it, tell me and i’ll get you something better, okay? i hope you have a good day, a better year, and i’m still saving my gift card to use at that restaurant with you so let’s go soon! - yura ♡

then, she put the gift box into a normal shopping bag, bribed one of their close friends to deliver it to alec to raise less suspicions, and also made them send proof of delivering it successfully so she could be sure. once she receives a photo of the bag in front of alec’s apartment door, yura sends him a text.

sent to ↝ sunshine ☀️ ↪ i hope ur home right now or ur going to be soon because there’s something waiting for u… ↪ i’ll leave it up to your imagination on what it is :) ↪ ps. i got a new phone case ↪ it’s cute, right? ↪ [image attached]

hopefully alec understood what the image meant after he opened his gift but if not, well… she wasn’t going to admit it plainly either. she already felt embarrassed enough as it is with the rest of the gift and writing the message in the card because yura? being cute and lovey-dovey? she wasn’t good at expressing herself but for alec, she would try her best to be more honest.

     on the day of his birthday, he really doesn’t expect much. his younger sister texts him of course, and he calls his parents to chat with them a bit but not for long because of timezones. sometimes, when it comes to days like this, he wishes he was at home with them so his mom could make him something delicious and homemade and reminiscent of his childhood.

     but he’s here living his dream right now so he doesn’t really have room to complain.

     the surprise from the company is always nice too, the letters from the fans and the cake always being something that he looks forward to every year when his birthday approaches. and he gets greetings from his friends from high school and the other trainees and even his fellow actors.

     he won’t deny it though … there’s only really one person that he’s waiting for a message from though.

     thankfully, he’s busy enough with his schedule that he doesn’t have much time to wait and dwell on yura’s messages, mostly just immersing himself in everything that he has to do and letting the day pass him by.

     he heads home at the end of the day, tired and unexpecting when he happens across a package in front of the door of his (shared) apartment. he blinks at it for a long moment before it clicks that this is probably a birthday gift for him.

     picking it up and unlocking the door, he checks his phone to see if he had missed any messages and he won’t deny the smile that appears on his lips when he sees that the package seems to indeed be from his girlfriend.

     he toes off his shoes and places his bag down before he goes to his room, plopping down onto his bed after changing into his pajamas and then opening the present carefully. he’s not usually that sentimental or anything, but he keeps the ribbon and slides it onto his desk for safekeeping. after that is when he tugs out the card, reading it with a smile on his lips. he had expected her to have used the gift card he had given her last year but he’s genuinely pleasantly surprised that she had kept it.

     letting out a slight scoff at her implication that he might not like the gift, he sets the card onto his desk as well and turns to actually look at the presents she had gotten him. the phone cases are cute, he notes, looking at them and then at the one he was currently using which was pretty beat up and makes a note to change it after.

     his eyes light up at the hat though, since he had been in the market for a new one and he guesses he can stop looking online for one since she had so nicely gifted him it. he takes a picture of everything, including all the snacks, popping a candy into his mouth after as he settles to text her back. at the last second before he does it, he puts the hat on and snaps a selca of himself to send as well.

( 5 ) new messages: 🖤🖤🖤

> sorry i was going to reply but got distracted by the presents :~) > thank you for everything!!!! > [image] > i was going to buy a new hat so you absolutely read my mind > ur the best, as always <3

     seeing the picture she had sent of the phone case, he blinks at it for a long moment before it clicks. it’s a matching one to the one she had given him, and alec grins to himself as he pauses in his texting to swap his phone case to the one of the corgi.

( 2 ) new messages: 🖤🖤🖤

> i changed my case too!! > once again, ur the best <3

[seven-oomen]

Honey, honey | A Buddie One shot

Main ship: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Wordcount: +- 1600 words

Rating: PG-13, for language, abo mentions, and mpreg mentions

Warnings: Mentions ABO dynamics but isn’t explicit, language, mpreg mention but none of it is very graphic.

I’ve tried finding/writing sensible Spanish but I’m still learning the language so forgive me for making mistakes. I blame the duo lingo owl, he’s trying his best to teach me okay?

Based on the prompt: We've been living together for a few years now, your son calls me dad and recently you started calling me honey. But I never really connected the dots until after I posted a question online and a bunch of random strangers gave me advice. When I finally confessed my feelings for you, you told me you loved me and we've been dating since.

Based on the post: https://seven-oomen.tumblr.com/post/611873995367890944/adding-this-to-my-prompt-list-because-yeah-this

Tagging: @daughter-of-infinity​​ because I saw your reblog of that post and know you wanted a story like this.

He stared at the page before him, biting his lip as he pondered his next move. Was he really going to ask a bunch of strangers online a question like this? What if he was wrong? What if someone he knew found out? What if Eddie did…

But at the same time, he was tired of walking on eggshells. Of not knowing what was going on between the two of them. Don't get him wrong,  he wasn't against Chris calling him papa or against Eddie calling him cariño. Whatever that meant. But it was weird that everything had changed so gradually. He almost hadn't noticed it really, until Tia,  Eddie's aunt, had said something about Eddie finally finding a good Alpha to raise Christopher with at the last family gathering. She had looked fondly at Buck whilst she said it. And that got him thinking. Did she think Eddie and him were dating?

Wait...

Were they?

And so, here he was. Sitting in front of his computer, staring at the Reddit ask page in front of him.

Oh, fuck it. He was already here, might as well ask some random strangers on the internet what was going on. Surely it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

He started tying.

Firehose asked a question:

What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

I've (31AM) been living with my roommate and best friend (37OM) and his 11-year-old son for three years. We've been through so much together,  from earthquakes and the tsunami to a lawsuit and some bullshit with his late wife and other craziness. For us, that's just on the daily.  It happens. But it did forge a really strong friendship between us.

I care a lot about my friend and his son, to me they're family and I'd die to protect them and keep them safe. And I know he'd do the same for me. We're best friends and partners on the job but lately, he's been telling me that "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him."

And I noticed his family has been smiling at me differently lately. I've been going to family meetings for two and a half years and consider them my family but the air seems to have changed, it's almost even warmer. I didn't think that was possible.

Anyway, I've noticed more things lately.  Like how my friend calls me cariño, I honestly don't know what that means,  and his son started calling me papa about a year ago. Which is absolutely adorable and something I encouraged, I'll admit.

But the cariño thing is bothering me as my friend smiles at me and touches my cheek when he says it. Now, we've always been very tactile in our friendship and we're completely comfortable around each other but this made me feel a bit weird. Not bad weird, just something that makes me feel something but I don't know what or why.

I just don't know what this means and I don't know how to respond to it except smile at him. Cause it does feel kinda nice. I don't know how to talk to him about it, we've never discussed our sexualities. Honestly, I'm still not sure of mine.

We've just always been really close,  shared a bed during nightmares kinda close but I honestly don't know how to breach the subject with him. Am I reading too much into this? Am I dating my best friend without knowing it? Honestly, any kind of advice would be appreciated at this point. I don't want him taking this the wrong way.

TLDR: My best friend calls me cariño and his son calls me papa. I don't know why and I'm too scared to ask. I feel a lot of things but I don't know if either of us is bisexual or gay. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I ask him if he has feelings for me?

The next few days were filled with responses from Reddit. All of them pretty much said the same thing. Just ask him out already. Talk to him. Or oh my god, you are totally dating, you dingus...

So he figured he might as well take the next step. He asked Eddie that night after they put Christopher to bed.

They were watching tv together on Eddie’s bed, a beer in hand and shoulders touching.

“So- you know how you always call me cariño? What does that mean?” He asked.

Eddie gave him a rather amused look and chuckled. “It means darling or sweetheart, maybe honey, you know. It’s a term of endearment. I thought you knew that?”

The Omega cocked his head at him and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. And it felt nice to be held, so he couldn’t help but relax in his hold, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he stared at his beer bottle.

“I-” he bit his lip- “I didn’t. And I just- I don’t know. It’s confusing... “

“What is?” Eddie genuinely looked concerned. He felt terrible for causing it and he wanted nothing more than to hug his best friend and press a kiss to those lips.

Fuck.

“I- are we- Eddie are we dating?”

Eddie looked at him as if Buck had gone insane and snorted. “Excuse me? What do you-” Realization seemed to set in as Buck only looked more confused at Eddie’s amusement. “Oh, you stupid bastard…” Eddie chuckled, “Buck, we’ve been dating for two years.”

It was like a floodgate had opened and another realization came over him. The handholding, laying in bed together on most nights, taking care of Christopher, Buck coming with them to family gatherings, Eddie coming to him for comfort or affection. Holy shit... How had he missed all of that?

Neither of them had dated anyone else in the last three years, he hadn’t even looked at anyone. The only people he really wanted to spend his time with were Eddie and Christopher. Hell, they went to the zoo together, to the movies, they went out for dinner- just the two of them- in fancy restaurants even.

And it had never clicked. Not even once.

“Shit…” He looked up at Eddie in surprise before breaking out in one of his trademark beaming smiles. “Guess we have been.”

Eddie gently put both their beers on the nightstand beside him and pulled Buck closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Eres corto de luces, pero te amo de todos modos.” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. (You are not the brightest bulb, but I love you anyway.)

“And that means?”

“That you’re stupid but I love you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at those words, gently cupping Eddie’s cheek as he pressed his lips against the Omega’s. “At least I’m your idiot,” He murmured.

“That you are.”

-

UPDATE: What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

TLDR: You were all right and I was dating my best friend without realizing it. But guess what? We talked and now we’re married with three kids. Crazy what a year can change, huh?

So yeah, you guys haven’t heard from me in a year but I decided it was time to let you all know what happened between me and my best friend. So we talked that night after I posted my original story. Turns out I was dating him all along and never put two and two together. Until he did it for me. We talked that night and some other stuff and decided to take the next step together.

Naturally, everyone I knew had a good laugh about that one. Apparently, there was a betting pool on when I would realize I was dating my roomie. My sister won that one by the way.

So within the week my friend and I were engaged. He asked me, with some help from his son. It was adorable, really. He set up this really nice picnic for the three of us in the park, near the lake where we like to hang out on our days off. And he had his son come up to me to show me something he caught. (We both like insects, it’s kind of our shared thing.)

Turns out, our son was actually holding a ring. An engagement ring. And when he handed me the box, my friend took my hand, kissed it and asked me to marry him.

So of course, I said yes. We got married about six months after that. But it turns out that our night of ‘talking’ had some unforeseen consequences, and my husband was six months pregnant with twins when we walked down the aisle.

Yeah, so we married and two months later our son and our daughter were born. Our daughter in an elevator during a power outage and our son in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital. Because nothing in this family ever goes as planned it seems.

It’s been a wild year and if I think about it, I have all of that thanks to you guys. So thank you, for helping me realize what I had all along.

-

He finally closed his laptop and looked over to where Eddie was sleeping on the couch, Robert and Rosalie on his chest as they napped. Chris was silently drawing some pictures next to him at the table and grinned when he noticed Buck was looking.

Yeah it had been a crazy year all around, but truth be told, he would do it all over again.

-

So let me know what you all think of this one, would love to hear it. I very much enjoyed writing this. It was fun to just let my thoughts go and not worry about writing something good. I had fun and it made my day a bit brighter. And honestly, I hope it does that for other people too. So let me know if it did for you <3

[crowleplays]

Well, here it is

It’s been a long time coming, and after waking up today with the adrenaline rush gone, I was left with a pit of dread that is still present as I type this. Gabriel has done...immense damage to me and so, so many others in the community.

I offer you a prologue before I go into detail.

Finding these details isn’t pretty. It’s painful, and I will be quite frank that this is a degree of social suicide for me in this community. I come from a lucky position; I’m not one of the individuals here that can lose everything. That I can stand here and the worst I’ll get is online hatred is a fucking privilege. It’s genuinely heartbreaking that some people have to weigh speaking out with keeping their friends, safe space, and source of income.

What I present here isn’t flattering of me in many circumstances. I fully accept that I might look like a jackass in some of these screenshots just like Gabriel, and I’ve made my peace with that. I haven’t doctored anything, though people will tell me my information is old. As far as I’m concerned, Gabriel has done little to no growth from when we last spoke.

What you make of this is up to you, but I hope this helps someone. If it helps just one person, it has been worth all the stress and anxiety. I do not intend to accept any apologies because I have been to fucking THERAPY for this shit.

CONTENT WARNING FOR SOME SCREENSHOTS: NSFW ITEMS BEING PURCHASED ARE MENTIONED

Perhaps the most pervasive element of my relationship with Gabriel was feeling....very guilty over things out of my control. His methods of guilt tripping are very subtle, though I feel like these express it the best.

I would like you to examine how very, very quickly I go into fawning over Gabriel and guiltily apologizing for stuff either out of my control or the things I do for fun. The pet names should be enough to tell you this is when we were dating.

And if you think this is my only example. Ha. Haaaa.

---

For context around this time period - I was needed for helping my Grandma with basically everything, and my Dad was also getting steadily more and more sick with what turned out to be liver failure. He has now since passed, but I was having to shoulder a lot, and Gabriel knew this.

And now to something less guilt-tripping and moreso just...about him shutting down my interests until he decided he liked them.

(I eventually reversed this decision until I blocked him on all my blogs, so I did try to give him the benefit of the doubt)

Could he be better now? Sure, but I don’t know that, and the fact this happened all through our relationship is just...gross.

Eventually I did reach a breaking point and say something so it WAS addressed but. I was stressed about saying anything at all in the first place.

“Oh this is just old relationship stuff though, who cares?”

If you’d like to disregard all of that and just say Gabriel has grown as a person (And for the sake of people around him I damn well hope so), okay. That’s your choice. But this is just one facet.

Yeah. Gabriel is a fucking scammer, or at the very least criminally stupid with how he spends his money.

Y’know those posts where he says he needs food money? I understand that people deserve to purchase things for their own enjoyment, and I would never want to deny someone that. However, Gabriel’s impulse purchases are...deeply concerning. CONTENT WARNING: ONE OF THESE TALKS ABOUT NSFW THINGS BEING PURCHASED

(Convo is a bit choppy bc I cut out personal details about the both of us that need not be aired) I genuinely tried to help him. I wanted so badly to believe he’d gotten better, and then I heard he bought a $300 tablet and immediately turned to tumblr for funds again.

It’s...sad. 

NSFW WARNING AHEAD

----

Also, if you’re still waiting on a commission from 2+ years ago

Yeah, just ask for a refund. He doesn’t keep an Actual List anywhere from what I know.

While I wish I could go into design theft, that’s not something that’s happened to me, at least not from what I can recall. It’s not my place to speak on that, but there’s so, so many others.

I didn’t include certain things here, as I didn’t find them compelling enough. It’s long enough as is, and I am very tired. I’ve worked on and off on this for roughly 10 hours.

Please approach Gabriel with caution, hold him accountable, and keep yourselves safe. Those who count themselves as his friends, read all of this and ponder it. And if you have words for me, hey, whatever. Inbox is right there.

I’m just tired.

[randomoranges]

welcome to my splurgy hc where err year since 5evr, emma would drive down over and she and ét would then go out to see the nutcracker ballet the following day. they dress up and Make a Big Deal of it and have a grand old time of it. 

Nutcracker 

end December 2020

 Étienne clicks on the link and waits for the screen to load. The wheel spins for a moment, but soon, he sees the edges of a stage appear on the screen. He makes it bigger and dares to believe that he’s actually in a theatre, somewhere, and not sitting up in bed in his boyfriend’s guestroom. He reaches for his headphones and plugs those in, before he opens another application to video call Emma. 

 Even though he's been living in what he likes to call Zoom Hell, this, if anything is different. He doesn't need to worry about presenting a certain way, he doesn't have to be Perky and Upbeat, and he doesn't need to be engaging and alert. He can simply sit back, enjoy his friend's company and be himself, sharp edges and foul mood included.

 She's already there and he recognises her living room sofa. If he at least could have been sitting with her, it would have made this a little better, but he supposes he has to content himself with what he has. At least he’s not exactly alone. At least they can do this ‘together.’ 

 Étienne hadn’t been surprised when he’d found out that the Nutcracker presentations were cancelled this year, but at the same time, it had been another nail in his coffin. He understood why, he had figured it was bound to happen, but he had also been desperately hanging onto the hope that maybe for the end of the year, they could be allowed to do something fun again. That he could see his friends, his family, and get lost in his city without having to watch his every move. That, had not happened.  

 For as long as he could remember, ever since there had been a production of the Nutcracker that came and played in Montréal, Étienne and Emma had gone together. It was their little holiday tradition and Étienne loved it. For one afternoon, they dressed in their finest and pretended to be part of the elite society who went to the ballet often. They always got the same seats, they splurged on a cab and then a fancy dinner and had a grand old time of it all.  

 They never tired of seeing the same ballet and enjoyed picking the differences in the performances they had seen over the many years they had been coming. The dancers were never the same, each director brought on their own little special touch and they had their personal favourites and least favourites. (Étienne had loved the production of 82, Emma had hated the one of 03.) 

 The Nutcracker was familiar and comforting, but always amazed them by the performance of the ballerinas and the audacity in the costumes and productions.  

 However, this year, none of that was happening. If anything, Étienne wasn’t even in the same time zone as Emma. However, when Emma had found out that an online production from the previous year would be available to view online, she’d sent him the link and asked if he wanted to see it with her. Étienne knew that it wouldn’t be the same – that nothing could compare to being seated in the theatre next to her – that he couldn’t hold her hand and she couldn’t whisper in his ear about how wonderful one piece was, or how much she hated this one costume – but, he’d ended up agreeing.  

 If anything, this wasn’t the production they had seen last year and it would give him an excuse to chat with her for a bit. Even though they tried to video chat once a week, they were both occupied with their own realities and sometimes, their schedules didn’t align for as long as they would have liked. Étienne had his classes, Emma had her own work and throughout it all there was everything else; time zones, Mercury, Edward, Lucas, errands, his incapacity to function on some days...  

 They've agreed that their formal, nice clothes aren’t needed today, but Étienne still goes so far as to find the nicest shirt he had thrown in his suitcase (in case they were still allowed to go out in public) and it feels a little bare without a bow tie, but it’ll have to do. (Calvin had offered him one of his neck ties, he had politely declined.) He even fixed his hair and he can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s face on the screen.  

 “So, how’s exile treating you?” She asks as the “guests” on screen are settling in.

 Étienne ponders this for a moment, before he replies, “It’s – well, it’s not home, but it has its perks.” He does miss home – even if he couldn’t do what he wants to, he does miss the streets and the familiar faces. He misses his neighbourhood and his home. He misses the local eateries he would visit, the sight of the buildings and the sound of a familiar language. Still, this way he gets to spend time with Edward; make up for the lost years and such. Reconnect, rebuild and move on. He gets to further discover Edmonton and get a better sense of the place. He supposes there’s that much. Hell, he’s even developing favourite places and regular spots. Edward teases him and says he needs to watch himself, or else he’ll be needing the GPS for when he goes back home.

 “And how’s that boyfriend of yours?”

 Étienne rolls his eyes at her and laughs, “Edward is fine; he’s being very nice and patient with me. How’s – yours?” He knows it’s hard to believe, but he does try – for Emma’s sake – to be more – tolerant of Lucas. He doesn’t need to understand why it is she cares for him, but the fact remains that she does and she seems happy. He can try his best and make an effort even if there are still certain things that leave a bitter after taste in his mouth decades later.

 “Lucas is also fine,” She tells him, “Any idea when you’ll be heading back east?” She seems almost hopeful that he’ll say soon and part of him wishes he would.

 “I – don’t know.” He replies truthfully. “I was originally going to come back after the holidays, but then figured I could actually stay until Edward’s birthday. Do you realise, this’ll be the first time in a think forever that I can spend it with him?” He smiles softly at that. Edward’s visited him many times for his birthday, but Étienne never really had a chance to come out west for Edward’s. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but Edward had never really invited him over and he had felt a little unsure if he should just – show up unannounced. (He knows he can do that now and honestly, he likes the idea that he can.) And from the top of his head, he can’t recall if Edward was ever in town soon after his birthday, especially not if he’d flown over to spend the holidays with him. If anything, they most likely celebrated before he headed back. There had always been an excuse about work, obligations, and such.

 “But I guess I don’t really know. It’s not as if things are any better back home and it’s still winter. At least here, I have company. I don’t – trust myself alone at the moment.” He says quietly, luckily Emma knows what he means by that, and he doesn’t have to go into the gory details. She offers him a kind smile for his troubles and maybe Étienne imagines it, but he’s convinced she almost reaches out for him. Lifts her hand just so as if she wants to touch the screen, make him know she’s there, even if she’s so very far away. He appreciates the gesture. “Maybe when spring rolls around – if Edward hasn’t kicked me out yet,” He doesn’t want to overstay his visit even though Edward has told him countless times that he can stay here as long as he wants. Still, he’d hate for his boyfriend to grow tired of his constant shifting mood. He’s already tired of himself, he can only imagine how Edward will feel in the long term. Once he really realises what it’s like living with him twenty-four-seven during the winter. “I guess we’ll see.”

 “Would you – consider making a stop before going back to yours?” Emma asks quietly and Étienne is curious by what she means. “I mean – I was thinking – but maybe, you could come here, before going back home. For a bit. We could quarantine together. Or something. Two weeks. Make sure you’re note diseased and such,” She adds as a joke, but Étienne reads between her words, knows her enough to hear what it is she means – what she wants to say but doesn’t.

 “Think you can handle me for that long with nothing else to do?” He jokes, but he’s honest. It’s one thing spending a weekend catching up and taking it easy. It’s another to spend ten to fourteen days with each other and little else to do. He’s known Emma for eons and yet he feels she’d grow tired of him as well.

 “I haven’t seen you since July; I have enough subscriptions to streaming sites that I think we’d manage. Plus, I can always drag you out on walks by the Canal and watch you slowly freeze.”

 He laughs at that and Emma seems immensely pleased with herself. “It’ll be like a little vacation – just, not down south.”

 He’s been on vacation with Emma countless times. She’s been his go-to travel buddy for decades now and the idea starts to grow at the back of Étienne’s mind, regardless of his anxious thoughts. It would be nice to see her again. Catch up. Hold her close in his arms. Grow fondly exasperated at her. Stay up late and share secrets. Fall asleep knowing she’d be there in the morning.

 “What if they close the provincial borders?” He does genuinely worry about that, the longer he stays here. Case numbers are going up fast everywhere and the predictions don’t seem favourable. It would be the next logical step. Edward has assured him that even if for some reason he’s at wits end with him, he won’t kick him out. It had been – reassuring. However, for as much as he likes the time he’s spending with Edward he does want and need to go back home at a certain point. He doesn’t like being away for so long. He knows he ends up being and feeling even more disconnected.

 “I’ll – I’ll figure something out. Fly you out as an Important Federal Matter, or something. I’ll drive over if I have to. Pick you up. We can road trip it back.”

 He laughs, amused by her enthusiasm; him, a Federal Matter – that would be the day, “The borders will be closed though – for driving,”

 “Then – I don’t know! You used to travel there by canoe, foot, and horse before. I’m sure we could rig something up.”

 If anything, Étienne knows where to get horses, but he’s not about to tell Emma any of that just yet. He doesn’t need her concocting schemes at the moment.  

 “Yeah,” He finally says.

 “You’ll consider it?”

 “Yeah, I’ll come. When I head back.” He clarifies and she seems surprised, but really pleased.

 “Yeah?” Her smile brightens and Étienne yearns to be there next to her. To kiss her cheek and hear her laugh. For her to tickle his sides until he’s wheezing. To see her. Properly.

 “Of course; I miss you, believe it or not.” He does. Even if they didn’t necessarily see each other every weekend, knowing that she was close by was enough. Before, he could pick up and drop by for the day. Get on a train or a bus and spend the day with her. Even if it was only for a few hours. He’s lost track of how many times he’s done it. Now – now he doesn’t even know when he’ll ever be able to do that again.

 “I miss you too.”

 He hates how vulnerable she sounds – how vulnerable they both sound and how there’s nothing he can do to make it better. Emma is strong and sure-footed, it's not like her to be this way and he supposes this pandemic – this whole year has taken its toll on her as well. Still, it’s a little disconcerting. Of course, he’s seen Emma be vulnerable – in private, never in front of others, but – this time, there’s little he can do to make her feel better. He can’t even give her a proper fucking hug.

 Luckily, the show starts and it gives them an excuse to quiet down. The production, if anything, is one they haven't seen – one from a different company than Les Grands Ballets, so at least, for that, they have something to focus on. Despite that, however, Emma is oddly quiet – more so than usual and Étienne wonders what it is that's running through her head. He gives her a little time to just be and ends up getting caught up in the production, his perpetual vagabond thoughts and the soft weight of Mercury on his lap. His mind slowly processes the conversation they've just had and he thinks of theatres, vacations and the possibilities of doing something semi-normal again, one day.

 “Étienne,” Emma cuts through a particularly good rendition of a pas-chassé. He looks away from the stage and focuses on the upper left square where Emma's face is visible.

 “Yeah?'” His throat is a little thick and heavy with emotions he’s not quite sure he knows where they came from and he swallows down the bubbling anxiety that seems to want to make a breakthrough to freedom.

 “Promise me you'll be okay?”

 He blinks, wondering where this is coming from and maybe realises that he’s equally been a little quieter than usual. Emma, of course, knows what that could mean and he hates that she worries about him, on top of everything else on her plate.

 “Of course – but you gotta be okay too. I need to see you when I head home.”

 She nods, making the silent promise, and they fall quiet again, submerged in the world of the Nutcracker and childlike dreams.

 FIN

emma belongs to at @ultimate-quartz

[joyisntyoj]

04: LETTERS TO NOBODY OR MAYBE MAYARI

Seal stamps, stamps with whatever designs, papers and pens, stickers, pictures, dried flowers, heartwarming messages, and a lot more.

When was the last time you wrote something on a literal piece of paper for someone?

Have you ever personally given someone a handwritten letter or sent it from the post office?

Is writing a letter still a thing today, or you just use whatever app you have because what is the point if other ways are more convenient, right?

Maybe, you are more the vocal type of person and, you just say what you feel instead of writing it down?

Perhaps, you are none of the above because what is important is your presence in their lives and, that is more than enough?

Still, how lovely it is to keep something that has sentimental value. It unnecessarily means that you are hoarding something because what's to not treasure from precious memories in a small piece of paper in an envelope?

This story is for those who never get tired of expressing themselves in whatever form they know, but most especially to those who write.

May you never run out of papers, inks, and thoughts to compose. to more unforgotten memories preserved in letters.

^^^

To: Mayari.

How are you? I wish things were getting better, just like what I always pray. These days, sleeping at night suddenly became serene as well as waking up in the morning. Sometimes my days are dull and typical...I believe? But most of the time, it's either I'm feeling blue or extra sad, or was that the same? I kept on blaming the pandemic, but for real, I'm just a mess. Silent battles are truly tough. I wish I had the courage and strength just like yours. Be safe. Stay sane. I'm really trying my best to be legit all right.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Liway is the name, exhausted with life. Mayari, someone out there, maybe a supreme being or plausibly not always receives Liway's letters. Sometimes Liway writes 10 messages at once and sometimes none at all. Mayari is the only recipient of such letters that even Liway never knew they were received by the random recipient it thought was just nobody. It all genuinely started on having a recipient written on the "To:" part at the post office. Though seriously, it doesn't even have any home address. It's super weird that it's for Mayari and no address, and were received.

HOW?

^^^

To: Mayari.

The night has come. This time, it feels heavier than usual. Tears are suddenly falling. I noticed that an unwelcome visitor came. The familiar pain is hugging me again, so tight that breathing is getting harder. I hate everything. Yet, I came to realize a lot of things. Afterward, I'm feeling blessed and grateful. Am I getting crazy? Before I went to bed, at the dinner table, I felt uncomfortable with the conversation we had, my family, about myself back then. I really hate it when they keep on bringing up what happened in the past. I already moved on... I think... so can they stop mentioning those moments? Honestly, whenever anything from the past is introduced again and remembered, I tend to feel like it just happened yesterday. Everything is coming back so fresh and new; fun, pain, sweats, and tears. I hate it.

PS. Mayari, can you send me some courage? Preferably in capsules, So I can have it in my intakes and be sure I'll be really having it in my system literally.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Continues writing so many letters filled with how living is like. Liway felt tired and exhausted. A few days ago, it was super overwhelmed that crying is unavoidable. Then this morning, Ms. Walmy called for a little chat and checking up because it's never too bad to check up on somebody, most especially when you're a counselor. It's your job, so uh? Anyway, though Liway was out of focus on the call, it was able to be accomodating and warm in return. It reciprocated the thoughtfulness with a sweet smile.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey! Today I was mad because firsthand, I experienced that thing I usually hear from other people. The "don't-post-something-revealing-on-social-media-but-love-yourself-but-that's-not-appropriate". Well, I don't even know why I'm reacting super outrage towards it. Because knowing that my family is just concerned for me since the internet is frankly scary. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so why? Maybe deciding to be confident on the internet is not necessary for them. But for me, it is! So how should I deal with this? A friend consoled me, and I feel better. Still tho, my mood is already ruined. Oh gosh.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

 Liway.

Welcoming a new week, the usual Liway is busy with the household chores. Some may find it stressful, but this one is pretty different. Scrubbing the floor, washing the dishes, brooming on the side. Later on, folding the clothes, fixing the bed, and a lot more things. It looks like it'll be tiring its body out until the nose bleeds, and passing out is the last resort to rest. How come it's easier to clean an actual mess than the one inside the head and heart?

^^^

To: Mayari.

Beloa visited me today. My childhood and the only friend left I have up to this day from elementary school. If you get what I mean? It's been a long time since we had a chat, especially that things are super complicated these days. She's doing really well, and I couldn't be more proud. I'm still amazed at how we manage to be friends because we both don't like each other to begin with. It's so funny that we even pulled each other's hair in the 4th grade while the class is taking the annual picture for the school year remembrance. What are the odds in this even, right? HAHAHA. Today was warm and bright.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Dates suddenly don't vary in these letters. Even the concept of time is somehow gone. What's important is regardless of not having these "important details" like the usual, Liway can keep up and be consistent in sending its letters. Liway never missed a chance to send a letter to the address less recipient, which left the post office staff to ponder with it. But as time goes by, Alle, the clerk, is no more surprised 'coz she's used to everything now. The envelopes unfailingly vanished the moment it was dropped inside the mailing box. Indeed, a magical mailbox.

^^^

To: Mayari.

I never knew how amazing pretending could be. You know that thing where someone usually says I'm okay, but really not? The inner saboteur that was triggered by their trauma is real-real-real. A car is useless when it's not moving if you wanted to travel to faraway places. Does that make sense?

PS. It sucks that our bathroom is the only "semi-safe space".

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Polar bears are really fascinating. They get to hibernate. Then, after the time being, back on hunting and living their lives. Ligaya was one of Liway's hero. A lot knew Ligaya for being a superhero, although she does not have that fantasy powers. Just like the polar bears, too, Ligaya has been hibernating for quite some time but kept on saying that she was not. Liway saw it all. Maybe a bear's hibernation is different from a human-being, hmm?

^^^

To: Mayari.

IDK what to say, but I just wanted to be consistent at the very least in sending you letters.

PS. The radio was broken, but in my head, it's working. It kept on playing nonstop music. Is this a poetic way of saying I'm overthinking things?

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari.

A lot happened lately. Somebody lost a precious one, and here I am, having a renaissance moment. It's a crazy ride, but for all it's worth, the pea has grown into a beautiful plant. Hope it made sense coz finally, everything is making sense to me now. Little by little, slowly and surely.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey!! I hope you are doing great!!! These days, everything felt surreal. I get to be active everywhere. It's draining, yet I feel so alive than ever. I had this thought that time is indeed just a concept, hmm? I mean, anytime is the right time to do what you want and whatever it is. Nothing is too late, most especially when it comes to growth. OH, being late in class still counts but FOR REAL RIP TO THE ONLINE CLASS SETUP -_-

PS. May we never run out of time to be the best versions of ourselves. LOVE WHOEVER YOU WANT. fck the situation, but SOON, GO ANYWHERE YOU WANT. SPEND FOR YOURSELF AND FOR YOUR LOVED ONES. FEEL EVERYTHING.

PSS. May we leave this world with fewer regrets and more amazing memories.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

Quite a lot of letters were already sent. The post office is getting more and more letters, as well as Mayari. Still, NO REPLY. Maybe some other, Liway will be able to hear Mayari's words.

^^^

To: Mayari.

*here's an envelope just in case you want to write me something*

With so much love annd kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

'Tis the season to be jolly. LOL Nah. Liway has been out for the past weeks. By out, means on a hibernation mode. A L O T R E A L L Y happened. It's hard to put it into words. I guess Liway will end these letter-sending shenanigans or just lazy and trying to give out some excuses //

^^^

To: Mayari. 

Ever since I was taught how to move around the kitchen, I've been assigned to be Mom's assistant while cooking for the feast every event/occasion we'll be celebrating. It's tiring but super fun. Getting your fingers bleed and while unaware is cool LOL~ 

PS. Why does it feel so good to overthink things while doing the dishes? What's with that scenario.........

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

Tireless hands, heart, and mind with countless thoughts and feelings, papers, and pens everywhere—WRITING; it surely is one of the best ways to vent. Though letters can’t hug and wipe one's tears, witness waves of laughter, ease the pain, and such, the comfort from every word written is more than enough.

Suddenly time barge in and reminded me that this is enough. THIS IS ENOUGH FOR 2020...

A new chapter has arrived, and maybe it's time to move forward. Maybe this is where it all gonna stop for a while. I mean, writing is somehow tiring, literally. Probably, Mayari might reply with the number of letters sent anytime soon, so maybe waiting is all that needed.

No rush in moving on.

MAY YOU GET THE REPLY YOU LONG FOR SO LONG.

PRIORITIZE YOURSELF AND HAVE COURAGE.

BE KIND ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Little did nobody know, Liway is writing a letter to her "ideal" self.

The letter-sending-to-nobody thingy of Liway is really mind-boggling, right?

Mayari is Liway. Liway is Mayari.

The things that Liway wanted to say but cannot articulate well were always sent to Mayari. Mayari is the version of Liway it wishes to become in the future. 

The weak Liway longs and hopes to have "that" someone by her side to look up to. That's why she always writes letters and keeps them in the memory box.

The post office thingy was actually her shared room at home: the table at the corner with no lights but so much mess. It's that post office.

It's pandemic, so how can a post office be open and how brave she is to go out, right?

That saying, "be the hero you wanted to have when you were little", is the best explanation of Liway's way of venting and expressing.

Nobody knows when Mayari will come to life because it's no certainty that we can be the ideal self we all wanted to happen. 

For now, Liway is fighting her battles and screaming louder to the universe,

UNTIL WHEN DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY?

To be continued...

Happy New Year, Mayari. ✨💜

This is like an excerpt from my quarantine shenanigans for 2020 LOL.

[camillemontespan]

candidly camille [interview]

The Duchess of Valtoria aka Camille Montespan aka Camille Walker is like a chameleon. As I watch her model for our cover shoot, she adopts sultry expressions before bursting out laughing at her, I quote, 'ridiculous attempts to be sexy,' then switches to a soft smile, looking like butter wouldn't melt.

When she talks to me after, her leg tucked under herself on the sofa, she goes from incredible politeness to a real throaty laugh when she makes a risqué comment.

The photoshoot actually took place in her home, as Camille was also on Mom Duty while her husband, Drake, was out for meetings. Now, we are settled on a slouchy sofa and drinking coffee, while baby Luna is in in a play pen and playing with blocks.

Camille is still wearing the sweater from the photograph that will become the cover. 'I love this sweater, must find it online..' she muses, whipping out her phone to search if its in stock. I tell her she could just keep it. She blinks at me, clearly surprised at the suggestion. 'I'm not stealing this, I have morals!' she says. She then whispers, 'I am the Duchess of Valtoria!' before winking at me.

The many names she has means it's often hard to pin down the woman herself. Can she clear this up please?

'Duchess of Valtoria is my job, Camille Montespan is my professional name, Camille Walker is my married name and personal favorite,' she explains. 'I kept Montespan because it's a name that goes back to French nobility so I guess it makes sense to keep it for my title. But I am actually a Walker, in my heart.'

She really loves her husband. She blushes when she mentions him and that's after seven years of marriage. How are they still in the honeymoon phase after seven years and two children?

'Lots of sex,' she deadpans, before she let's out that throaty laugh again. 'No, in all seriousness, it takes work, all relationships do. But Drake's my best friend. He's my person.'

The couple are very private and it's hard to secure interviews with them. But today, we are meeting Camille because she and her husband have become the new subjects of a documentary celebrating the seventh year of the Duke and Duchess of Valtoria's occupation, airing on Netflix next month. The documentary doesn't go behind the scenes per se, as Drake and Camille are very private, but Royal commentators are interviewed, as are their friends and some members of the Valtorian public, to talk about Drake and Camille. How has Camille found the past seven years?

'A complete whirlwind,' she tells me, beaming. 'I've loved every minute of it.'

Drake and Camille met seven years ago when she came to Cordonia to take part in the suitor competition to marry the now King Liam. Instead of winning the crown, she married Liam’s best friend. Was it awkward?

Camille bites her lip. ‘Questions were asked, I had to be very, very honest. But once we talked about it, Liam got it. He actually said on my wedding day that him and I would never have worked!’ 

Drake and Camille married at the Walker ranch in Texas, much to the anger of the Cordonian public. ‘We wanted something private with just our family and close friends,’ she explains to me, clearly used to having to defend this decision. ‘We didn’t want any frills or fanfare. The day was to be intimate and we didn’t want it to be broadcast to the world. I guess we wanted to have something that was just ours before we took on our roles of Duke and Duchess, you know? Before everything became a rollarcoaster.’

Their lives did indeed become a rollarcoaster. Camille fell pregnant with Lily soon after they married before they welcomed baby Luna a year ago.

I ask how Lily is with her sibling. Is it something she wanted?

‘It was difficult for her when the time came,’ she tells me carefully. ‘She was so used to it just being us, her own little unit. She’s used to being the only child and being her daddy’s favourite thing. Drake had to sit her down and explain that she was not being replaced. '

I ask if Lily is a daddy’s girl. Camille bursts out laughing. ‘Oh my god, yes! She is obsessed with him! So obsessed!’ Her laughter fades and she looks at me, her eyes warm. ‘You know that idea that a girl’s first love is her father? That totally applies to Lily. Drake is the love of her life.’

I ask what Luna is like as a baby. Camille must be exhausted. She laughs and shakes her head. 'Honestly? Luna is the quietest thing. She just observes, she's always looking around. She sleeps so well and she rarely cries. We were a little worried to begin with, since Lily was so different, but then when we thought about it, we were like: a quiet baby who let's us sleep for 6 hours? YES THAT'S THE DREAM!'

Lily takes after Camille, she tells me, in that she is so energetic and girly. 'She tries my perfume and walks around in my heels, it's the funniest thing. But she also isn't afraid to get dirty in the garden, she loves going camping with her dad, so I guess that Walker charm is in her somewhere..'

How is Drake with two girls? Camille beams at my question. 'He loves it. Oh, I just know he's going to be an overprotective dad when boyfriends or girlfriends come over for the first time. He relishes his role. Like, he isn’t afraid to take part in Lily's tea parties,’ she divulges. I can’t imagine Drake Walker, the man with the permanent scowl and sarcastic remarks to the press, taking part in tea parties.  I tell her this. Big mistake. 

‘First of all,’ she says, pointing her finger in the air, ‘my husband does not have a permanent scowl. He reserves that for paparazzi because he hates them.  Second, his sarcasm is really funny?! Like he is so dry and cutting sometimes, it’s shocking but it’s hilarious. Drake is an actual marshmallow, he just doesn’t show it to most people because he doesn’t feel the need to.’ Her voice is getting angrier now. ‘Why should he? He loves me and he loves his daughters, that’s all that matters. So when I say he takes part in my daughter’s tea parties, believe me, he does. And he actually loves it.’ 

She is a lioness protecting her pride. That is what Camille is like right now and I instantly feel guilty for mocking her husband. She must see my embarrassed face because she places her hand on mine. 

‘Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to get pissed. It’s habit. We’ve had to defend each other so much to the press, it’s become instilled in us.’

The tension has gone after her apology.  I actually understand why she instantly defended him though and why he would do the same for her; they are a team and they have learned together how to navigate the media, paparazzi and rumour mill. Drake once walked out of an interview when the men’s magazine interviewing him said Camille looked good in a bikini (paparazzi photos of a romantic holiday to the Caribbean made international news, much of the headlines being about Camille’s physique). 

‘He is very protective,’ Camille admits, ‘but he’s always been like that. Even when we first met, he protected me at court because he didn’t want me eaten alive by the other suitors. It’s in his nature and honestly, I wouldn’t change it.’

I move back to discuss the documentary.  ‘We were approached by the documentary team as they wanted to shed light on what we have done for Valtoria. It’s a great honour to be recognised for the work we have done.’ 

The documentary interviews their friends, such as Bertrand, the Duke of Ramsford. He was Camille's mentor when she came to Cordonia. Are they still close?

'He's like the dad I never had, even though he's only about eight years older than me,' she says thoughtfully. 'He's serious at first and it takes a while to get him to trust you but once you get over that hurdle, he is the kindest and most loyal man. Seriously, he's done so much for us. He's our children's godfather.'

I pick up on her comment about him being the dad she never had. I gently ask what she means. Camille bites her lip and runs a hand through her hair, giving me a whiff of coconut. ‘I think everyone knows that my parents weren’t exactly.. role models,’ she says. 

All I know is that she lost her parents to drugs when she was five. Camille rarely speaks about them to the press but we are aware of her background as she donates money to rehab facilities in Cordonia and visits patients.  She exhales and gives me a steady look. 

‘My mother and father abused drugs,’ she tells me bluntly. ‘If they taught me anything, it’s how to be a bad parent. They left me alone for hours on end while they chased their next high and I felt very lonely. That is why I try so hard to keep my daughters happy. I want them to enjoy life, have no worries. I want to just wrap them up in a big bundle of love.’

I note that Drake also had a hard time; his father died when he was fourteen and his mother left soon after. They both come from fractured upbringings. 

‘And yet, here we are,’ she says with a genuine smile. ‘We are not our parents. We are Drake and Camille, mom and dad extraordinaires!’ 

We're interrupted by her daughter, Lily, who wanders through. She's wearing a polar bear onesie and her hair is mussed up. 'Mommy, I miss daddy,' she says quietly.

Camille holds out her hands and Lily takes them, letting Camille pick her up and set her down on her lap. 'Daddy will be home soon,' Camille tells her, tucking a lock of Lily's hair behind her ear. She kisses the top of Lily's head and the five year old smiles, snuggling into her mother. Camille looks at me with a knowing smile.

'See?' she says. 'She's obsessed with Drake.'

What kind of parents are they?

Camille ponders. 'Hmm.. Might be a risky move here but, Lily, what are Mommy and daddy like as parents?'

We watch as Lily wrinkles her nose in concentration. 'Daddy is silly,' she decides. 'And Mommy is cuddly.'

Camille pulls her in for a cuddle, tickling the little girl under the arms, making her scream with laughter.

Lily soon clambers off to check on her little sister, before she announces that she's going to play tea parties. Camille and I get back to the interview.

'For a serious answer to your question,' Camille says, 'Drake and I have similar parenting styles because we're a team. Sure, Drake is more easily swayed and wrapped around Lily's finger, but we both agree when it comes to the important stuff, like bedtimes, school, homework, dinner. We're in sync all the time.'

I wonder how they settled into being parents so soon after getting married. Camille ponders for a moment before answering frankly. 'We were terrified. Seriously. We worried we would break her and Drake would spend hours watching over her as she slept. We couldn't relax.'

There has been comments made that the two of them adopt the helicopter method style of parenting, meaning they are very protective over their daughters.

Camille sighs. 'With Lily, sure. But we were just starting out and so scared of fucking up. Bear in mind, I had a shit childhood. Drake fared little better. So we're both so conscious of the fact that we didn't have the best parents to learn from. It goes back to what I was saying earlier that we are not our parents. We want to do it right.'

We are interrupted by the sound of scraping on the floor. I look over to see Lily is dragging a tiny plastic yellow table with plastic tea cups on top. Camille jumps up to help her move it. 'Where do you want it, honey?' she asks.

Lily points to the space in front of the sofa where we're sat. Camille takes the table over and we watch Lily set up for a tea party, right beside us.

'She likes to be part of things,' Camille whispers to me. 'Especially when there's women in the room. I think she likes to pretend she's a fancy lady with her fancy friends.'

She reaches out to ruffle Lily's hair. Her daughter grins and settles down, pretending to sip from a plastic tea cup. Camille and I watch her for a moment, fascinated by this little play.

'Mm, delicious tea..' Lily says quietly and Camille and I giggle. Camille then clears her throat and looks at me, ready for the interview to commence.

Are they aware of their couple name, Cake?

Camille bursts out laughing. 'Oh we're aware! Drake hates it. He doesn't like the whole celebrity thing. Neither do I but its what we have to deal with as part of our jobs.'

The documentary discusses the campaigns that the Duke and Duchess have been involved with. For Drake, he founded Mind over Matter, a mental health campaign for struggling men in Cordonia, which soon formed into something larger. It became a charity and pioneered the beginning of mental health campaigns in Cordonia.

'I'm so proud of him,' Camille tells me. 'To think that before I met him, he made sure he stuck to the shadows at court and now he's taking centre stage and promoting his work.. Its amazing.'

Camille has also been involved in working for equality in the workplace. She had been talking to her fellow Duchesses and found that Kiara had been trying for years to get into a boardroom but to no avail. 'Because she's a woman,' Camille tells me point blank. 'Kiara has the skills needed to be a diplomat, she has more balls than any man in the room, but she is ignored because she has a vagina. Before you say I'm being dramatic, I'm not. Kiara was literally told she wouldn't get her foot in the door because she was a woman.'

Lily then pipes up quietly: 'Vagina.'

Camille turns red and covers her face with her hands. 'Oh god, I forgot she's like a sponge.. She repeats so many things we say.'

I look at Lily who gives me a butter wouldn't melt smile.

Moving on.

Cordonia is known to be very traditional in the sense that women should stay home while men work. Camille rolls her eyes. 'Cordonia needs to join the 21st century.'

After speaking with Kiara, Camille and her friends got together to tour workplaces and schools, advocating for equality. 'I want girls in Cordonia to have the opportunities to succeed and grow,' she says. 'We visit schools to show young girls that their futures are bright and that they shouldn't feel like they can't achieve anything.'

Drake must feel very proud of her. Camille blushes and waves away my compliment. 'I'm just trying my best to make a change. I want Cordonia to be a modern and forward thinking country.'

The documentary follows the Duke and Duchess' efforts to make a difference, as well as showing short clips of candid moments. Moments such as when they visit the palace and Drake holds her hand - nobles are very strict about touching and PDAs, yet Drake and Camille ignore this rule.

'We're a really touchy couple..' Camille says, pretending to look apologetic. 'Sorry guys. We're sickening.'

There's also a moment where Drake is studying fancy finger food at an event with a look of sheer incredulousness on his face while Camille jokingly tries to force him to eat it, waving it in his face. I think it will become a meme.

'Oh god, don't talk to Drake about memes!' she laughs. 'His quote Everything is Great became a meme. He can't live it down.'

The documentary interviews Olivia Nevrakis of Lythikos, the infamous Duchess who terrifies journalists - myself included. Camille and Olivia seem so different, how can they possibly be friends?

She shrugs. 'Just because someone's different to you doesn't mean you can't be friends.. I think she's brilliant. She's the godmother of my children. Underneath that tough exterior, she's a softie. Bit like Drake actually, his marshmallow equivalent..'

She then giggles. 'She's going to kill me for calling her a marshmallow.'

Lily sips her tea cup and says confidently, 'I love Aunt Olivia!'

'Yes you do, sweetie!' Camille coos, leaning over to kiss Lily on top of the head. 'She's your favourite person, isn't she?'

Lily nods eagerly.

Olivia is very open in the documentary about how she, Camille and Drake started off on the wrong foot but slowly became friends. She says that Camille is the friend who always has a bottle of wine ready for deep chats. 'The woman loves a deep discussion about feelings..' Olivia says dryly.

Camille grins. 'I do! I'm like a therapist sometimes! I genuinely think I could have been a therapist if I wasn't a Duchess.'

As a noble, Camille is different. She's more open, relatable and doesn't put on any airs and graces. She's normal.

She blinks at me. 'All of us are normal,' she tells me. 'Just because we have titles doesn't mean we're not like you. I think I'm more myself than ever before because I don't want to lose the old Camille.'

I ask her to explain the old Camille. She sips her coffee and ponders. 'The old Camille watched football, wore oversized sweaters, made risqué jokes and loved Espresso Martinis. I'm still the same person..' She bites her lip. 'I think I don't want to lose that version of me because its the one my husband first fell in love with.'

I tell that it obvious Drake will love her no matter what. She bows her head and smiles softly. 'Thank you,' she says quietly. 'At the end of the day, Drake is my life. I want to be with him forever.'

As if on cue, the front door is heard shutting and footsteps sound in the hallway. Lily jumps up from her tea party table and runs out the room, shrieking, 'Daddy!'

'Hello beautiful thing!' I hear Drake cry. The footsteps get closer and Drake enters the living room with Lily in his arms. He sees me and gives me a warm smile. 'Hi there, nice to meet you.'

He moves towards Camille and kisses her softly. 'How's the interview going?'

'Good, I think!' Camille says, looking at him like he's the most amazing thing she has ever seen. 'Fun chats.'

Drake grins. 'I'll leave you both be. Spaghetti for dinner tonight? I'll cook.'

He carries Lily to Luna's play pen, picking up the two year old as well. 'Hey, little moon!' he greets his youngest daughter. The three of them leave the room and Camille smiles at me. 'See? He's brilliant.'

That is the secret of Cake. That's how they work so well. They are a team and it's family first for them, just how it should be.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KAT! You’ve been accepted for the role of OTHELLO. Admin Rosey: So, one thing that’s really difficult to highlight without overemphasizing is Othello’s dichotomy and his constant conflict. Sometimes you can focus so wholly on one aspect of a character that it’s overwhelming. But Kat, you write Odin so effortlessly, so FREAKING effortlessly that you capture it throughout the application as an integral part of his character -- interweaving it into the plot, the sample, even the “what drew you to this character” section. I am completely blown away and utterly terrified of what havoc you’re going to wreak on the dash. I am screaming over this application and I always will, time and time again. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kat Age | 25 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | OK so my classes went online and my job has cut staff in half so I have so much free time and so much muse. Listen…. LISTEN I know I’m not always reliable but it’s game time lemme say like at least twice a week, I’m here for the haul let’s write baby!!!!!!!!!!! Timezone | EST How did you find the rp? | I originally came across it in the lsrpg tag, also my girl Taryn recommended it and also I miss y’all :( Current/Past RP Accounts | These are links to inactive past accounts:

https://neosy.tumblr.com/ https://grchcmisms.tumblr.com/ https://99gael.tumblr.com/ https://halogenq.tumblr.com/ https://odinbellc.tumblr.com/ ;) https://pavellam.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER

Character | Othello, Odin Bello – requesting faceclaim change to Trevante Rhodes :^) What drew you to this character? |

Through my first experience writing Odin I learned a lot about both him and myself as a writer. He was initially a challenge for me because at my roots I was never someone successful in writing characters with good intent, the easier side of him being the one of violence and chaos, something that was difficult considering more often than not… that isn’t who Odin is, or more fittingly, who he wants to be. I struggled with his daily life, the man he tries so hard to be and who he’s used to becoming over the years and I realized that was the key in; the struggle. I’ve teetered around writing for a while recently, the desire and the muse not being there for me when I remembered my dear, dear, Odin and for a split second I wondered about him. Such an interesting thing, to wonder about a character, to dive deep into your mind’s eye and ask, “How is he doing, I wonder? The man of gold and copper, the being of olympus and hades? How is my boy?” And realizing the responsibility of creating and finding that out is all mine. It felt like seeing a past lover in the check out line, wide eyes as you remember the missed calls and blocked number, and realize how fuckin’ good they look today and, damn, were stupid for leaving them.

Dearest Odin, please take me back. I miss you so dearly. I’ll try hard not to leave you so suddenly this time, that was my bad.

Who am I to fool myself? My heart always brings me back to him. Feed me an optimist with nothing but a history of failure, rocks beating down on a pristine marble surface til the cracks spell misery. It’s all his fault, the pain, suffering, and failure… but he tries so hard. It’s as if he’s doomed from the beginning, the first cries from his mouth as a child, a bad omen, the first steps he takes, the small tottering of a baby, were faced in the wrong direction. Some people are born bad, some people are cultivated as such, and Odin, at his root, is a demon in disguise even despite his most valiant efforts; it’s a nature he fights everyday and, oh, the battle grows bloodier and bloodier.

The rest may look familiar to you:

I’ve always been a sucker for a good heart and bruised knuckles.

Such beauty and chaos, such destruction and uncertainty, an aching heart that slips through your fingers as you struggle to grasp it, begging it to hold still. He shakes and struggles with nature and nurture, who he should be and who he wants to be, and more importantly, what he’s become. He feels the remorse and pain of it everyday when he wakes and each night he goes to sleep – for a time he managed to be the person he worked so hard to be. It crumbled under his feet and his developing insanity, the rumble of his father’s ways breaking the ground under his skin and causing something of a snap, a moment of true obscurity. He hates himself for it, but he cannot yet again break his mold, he cannot become someone else. His will is cracking, his heart breaking.

Give me his nuance, give me his pain, give me his turmoil, and oh, please, give me his struggle; the desperate gasp of collapsed lungs and a tattered chest. I cannot stress how beautiful I find him, the feeling in my ribcage so solemn at his childhood and forthcoming, his painful attributes and breaking spirit. A man who shows his kindness through terror and bloodshed, so intent on being a good person that he’d tear the throat of a thief with his teeth.

Yes, I’ve found love.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.

(I have new ideas but lord, do I struggle with formulating plot ideas in this format so I’m just gunna keep the same ones because of such and because I DO in fact still want to play them out.)

MEN SHOULD BE WHAT THEY SEEM //

Oh, can the flash of his teeth brighten a room. His smile is bright but, these days, so rarely genuine. He no longer knows who he is truly fighting for, what side of the coin he lays on with his copper spinning on its side in a never ending spiral. He does not know where he belongs, nor, who he truly is and it plagues him in a way that’s all too familiar, a way that feels like his mother’s comfort and his father’s recklessness, the smell of alcohol on someone’s tongue when they speak and the feeling of a caress on skin. He needs to make a choice, a permanent decision for once in his life, pick his path and follow it to the end instead of cutting through the woods once more. Who are you, Odin? His own face in the mirror becoming more unfamiliar in each passing day, a building anxiety and insanity, a hurricane creating a disaster inside him. Who are you?

His reflection tired, tainting his handsome face and false expressions, a hunger growing just under the surface, a desperation so hot; who will you be?

FOR SHE HAD EYES AND CHOSE ME //

Delilah, oh, how she filled something inside of him, and oh, how he tore into the filled space as if rabid, as if being whole was too much to bear, the filled space too heavy, and the paranoia of losing it all creasing his forehead and melting in his palms.

So he did what he does best, and he ripped through the plaster and insulation like a hammer, shattered the glass and caused the empty space to bleed. It hasn’t stopped aching, despite his insistence that it has healed, sometimes he still wakes with his shirt soaked in blood, drenched in suffering. How can he learn to forgive? He learned his lessons but the morals cannot seem to stick, the weakness he caused in his own self and the horror he caused for the woman he loved – loves, still finding its way through his mind and heart. He seeks self forgiveness just as much if not more than he seeks hers. He cannot move on without finding solace or closure but those are two things so hard to capture and accept. Sometimes, he feels so much like his father with his past misgivings it stirs disgust.

It’s time to repent.

THE GREEN EYED MONSTER //

Ivan is a scab, an infection that Odin refuses to treat. He’s become cautious, wearily aware of betrayal in the past and more on the horizon. He has a feeling, a ponderance that keeps him up at night, the sends shocks through his veins. He hates to think of his friend, his family, as a traitor, as a monster in disguise seeking to antagonize the worst parts of Odin himself, but it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore. It scrapes the back of his mind, creates an itch that he cannot scratch no matter how deep he digs, no matter if the skin starts bleeding, it won’t go away. How does he cut out another piece of his life, another piece of himself so vital? It feels like he is losing those most important to him, that they’re all turning on him and it creates nothing but fear, more paranoia and uncertainty.

He wants so desperately to be wrong, but knows what will happen if he is not.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If anyone deserves to die at some point in this rp I feel like Odin’s a good contender to get fuckin’ GANKED

IN DEPTH

Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)

In-Character Para Sample:

Act I

The sun beats down on darkened skin, wind blowing through open cruiser windows, sunglasses adorned on his face and a holder keeps track of coffees. In the daylight he glistens – not in a literal sense of glowing skin and eyes, he does not hover over the earth as if ethereal, not a streak against the sky that blinds any human eyes that dare linger, but instead in the sense that no one could ever find the man to be anything but happy. His teeth, those straight, white, teeth that come alive in a smile and clear rooms with a sneer peek from behind pulled lips in a grin. He walks with a swagger, bearing gifts in coffee for other officers and sharp humor and barked laughs for poor moods. He so easily falls into the facade of being created from nothing but light and the body of Christ, a saint in all regards except moral, light jests greeting all who perceive him and all who engage.

Well groomed, upkept and clean, there was no reason to suspect anything was amiss in the crook of his grins, the sharp of his wit, the movements of his muscles under skin. He even makes arrests like a holy man, like someone with something to lose to violence. His hands rest on the steering wheel, music plays from the stereo and he nods his head, every other line finding its way out of his lips even in no one’s presence but his own. He isn’t playing a character in the moment, enjoying the everydayness of the outside world, the warmth of the air touching his limbs and being sucked into his lungs. He feels joy, he embodies it, he hovers with it. His foot eases off the gas at the turn of a light and one hand finds itself resting outside the drivers window, head cocked to the side, heart beating steadily in his chest – firm and ever present in the strength of his pulse.

A human being in all forms; a person, a person, a person, and his phone rings.

Pulling in the parking lot he answers the call, the perspective outside leaves the voice on the other end muffled as it’s pressed to his ear, his face falling ever so slightly, car pushed into park. He nods even though the speaker cannot see him, he makes a sound of understanding as they continue and suddenly something is more solid inside of him. The fluidity, the liquid that flowed between sunlight and good music steels itself against the reality of his life, of who he is and what he is to do, the lake jostled and good-feelings distorted. It’s not for the faint of heart, not created for those with poor constitution, and he is a police officer until ten tonight; that’s what he says to the voice on the other end so they tell him to have it done by eleven. He does not hesitate until he hangs up, a sigh of the last good breath leaving his lungs. A moment of silence for what he lost.

He grabs the coffees and heads inside.

Act II

The headlights send streaks through the night, the yellow color sending shadows running rampant across the near empty field – long and sickly. The air is not still but choked, a vice grip stealing the oxygen away from those who dared attempt breathing. There stood a figure in the darkness, large shoulders over a larger frame, muscles tightened as he digs and digs, the shovel breaking the earth harshly with each bend of his arms. His breathing is rough, like a rubber band pulled to full capacity trying to bend and break to fit the expansion of his lungs. The shovel carries on.

The silence that hung heavy around the lone sound of crumbling dirt could kill in its own regard; ringing in his ears as he ignores the shower curtain wrapped in duct tape buried in the back corners of his trunk. Odin’s mind is empty to everything but the task, split skin and dried blood from his face and knuckles, the bruises adorning his ribcage. Perhaps it was self defense for the sake of defense, he threw the first punch but it was returned just as well and by then, truly, the control was lost. It was what they had wanted to happen, and he was nothing if not complicit. He supposed that was what they liked about him, another body, a bloodhound. Caving for the sake of therapy, sober by daylight and drenched in sweat and blood by nighttime –  if only to keep his sanity. He was nothing if not built of power and control in both physical and mental regards over everyone but himself.

Try to carve a better god out of wood, put him on a pedestal and pray all you’d like, the real sacrifice will come in blood much later – but this flesh and bone, that which has created the man who finds himself up to his chest in dirt standing at over six feet, he is paid now and up front. He is solid, and real.

He straightens up, dirt caked to his jeans and soiled t-shirt, sweat broken across his skin making him shine under the glare of the headlight, the sheen making him appear as if glowing under the half exposed moon. He plants his hands on the outside on the deepened earth and pulls himself out, breathing hard through his nose, a noise like a grunt, face twisted, teeth appearing behind pulled lips. He stares at the dip of the trunk, chest moving, knuckles tightening, shovel thrown to the side. He isn’t even halfway done yet; he gathers himself, and pulls the latch free.

Act III

(TW: self harm kind of)

The neighborhood is still and quiet, blackness behind every window and curtain at such an ungodly hour, the only sounds being the low rumble of the occasional car passing on the main road nearby. In the stillness there begins a movement, the shape of a tall man shaking open the gate leading to the back of a house, his clothes defiled and leaving trails. He strips in the backyard of the home; shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans forming a pile of mud and dirt by the sliding glass doors until he stands in his boxers, fingers unlocking the back door, the cold of the night wetting trails down his back and sides, whispering to his skin. He walks slowly to avoid making any noise, the sound of keys hitting the granite of a kitchen countertop. Even despite how delicately he walks, the mass of his body makes the stairs protest lowly when his feet find them.

The man first goes to the bathroom, the light flicked on as he tries to avoid his face in the mirror. He is not the same creature that caused the blood to pool in his wounds, not the same monster with dirt caked under his nails – not here, he can’t be; not in front of her. He turns on the shower, body directed towards a corner of the bathroom while he waits for the water to heat, staring blankly at the space where the two walls meet, hands twitching, brain fighting not to think, the sound of static until smoke fills the room. The adrenaline still pumps through his veins, the wild-eyed insanity created by anger and a lack of self control, the rush of the final blow still stinging in the shaking of his muscles. The water turns first brown from the dirt adorning his limbs, then becoming a far more sinister red when he submerges his face and hands, he washes himself slowly, rubbing at his back and shoulders, the sweat off of his skin, the searing pain of smoking water near boiling scalding the back of his neck. He doesn’t allow himself to think, not now, not yet. He doesn’t hum or sing, doesn’t talk to himself, but instead thinks only of his actions as they happen or nothing at all.

He doesn’t know how long he stands under the water, so hot it scalds, burns off the sin and the disgust, scrubbing and scrubbing until he could feel himself beginning to cause harm, wounding, convincing himself he’s becoming clean until he forces his hand, stopping the running water. He stands even longer still, his wet skin freezing over in the silence of the steamed room. Finally when he finds himself ready, he dries off until he feels pristine, the wash of the shower head like a baptism into the form of a different man, a new mold built into his model. Only then does he look in the mirror, eyes meeting the reflection of a handsome man, a cursed man, a martyr only in the sense of self respect and fear. His eyes are tired, his face adorning new cuts and scratches, bruises blooming his sides under skin and over muscle. He aches all over. He bares his teeth at the reflection and it does it right back, a snarl of bright white, the bones straight and sharp, and his eyes so quickly become frightening. He turns away.

Odin’s face peers around the door of a new room, hands finding covers and the soft sound of a woman waking. She turns to him, her face telling of sleep and her lips turned slightly down in a frown, her hands finding his chest, wrapping around his torso, her face in his neck, breath fanning over that damn skin of his and she says, “Long night?”

His fingers trail down the back of her shirt, fingertips pressing to the small of her exposed back stretched between her clothes and he hums quietly, face buried in her hair, body melting and moving to fit hers more comfortably, grip tight to squeeze her form, to hold onto something solid, to find his anchor. “Always, baby. Go back to sleep.” He says in a low voice, something comfortable, something familiar there, as if he’s smiling. She makes a noise of acceptance, curling even further towards him, as if a safety, sinking even further as his fingers trail up and down her back, soothing, as to not allow her to be distraught. Delilah was always the one he worried about, not concerning himself with the rotting inside his own chest, the ache of something breaking within him. He fights with the inability to sleep while the rush of the night still feeds inside of him. He does not concern himself with what little is left of him because while he is with her he is safe from the part of himself that only consumes, he is not concerned with the fragility of his own being, not while he breathes in the heat radiating off of l'amore della sua vita.

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, something begins to rot under the cover of freshly turned Earth.

Extras: I made a tag for him a long time ago and haven’t touched it much since tbh but like I'ma probably add stuff the next few days so this 4 u: https://hypnosreigns.tumblr.com/tagged/character:%20odin%20bello

[vylette-takeda]

If you could offer someone new to roleplay one piece of advice; what would it be and why?

This is a great one and admittedly so hard to narrow down to one thing. My advice may seem basic, but I think new role-players, especially anxiety monsters like me can really take it to heart. Also as I typed this reply got *much* longer than anticipated so..if I drone on, I hope you all will forgive me! I am really hoping some new roleplayer somewhere (or a more experienced one who is having trouble) will see this and find value. If not well…chalk it up to Vy babbling. But I tried to make it entertaining, covered a few important topics (I think!) and the main focus in case you just want an easy answer is found in the following sentence:

Always remember, people want to RP with you.

Time and again, I have heard people lament (and I have at times been guilty of saying these same things!) “I am not good enough.”, “My writing is not good enough.”, “I do not know the lore well enough.”, “People do not seem interested in me/my character/my ideas.”Well? Forget all that! Let me let you in on a little secret new roleplayer: Most other RPers are just like you. They are into nerdy things or else they would not be here, they enjoy mutual storytelling and interactions in RP, they are probably just as shy as you (That is an important one. Think of all the rpers you know..how many start off by claiming they are shy? *raises hand* Guilty!), they also have insecurities, but most of all they are standing there with their IC tag on because they *want to RP with you.* So what does that mean? Go on ahead and make that approach! I know what you are thinking, “But Vy, I am a shy bean and no one knows me and I stand in the Quicksand and I don’t know what to do or how to approach and ahhhhhhh!” Well friend, I was there too. Let me tell you a secret, lots of days I *still* am. What i recommend heartily is an icebreaker. Just like meeting someone in real life. Now you can do this IC by just walking up and emoting but lots of folks are afk a lot or alt tabbed on tumblr (guilty party here) so I am going to recommend starting with a tell. So what is a good icebreaker? Well, think about what attracts you to a character and makes you want to RP with them in the first place! Here are some examples:

A) You think they did a great job with their character design or glam. It really seems to fit the theme they are going for. Their search info says “Shroud Witch” and wow did they nail that look!“Hey I really love the aesthetic of your character! You really nailed that look. Do you have an online profile for your character? I would like to know more.”See what I did there? A true and tasteful compliment with a follow-up to hopefully learn more. If they have a profile odds are it is already in their search info (more on that later!) but it may not be. Either way this opens the door for the player to tell you about their character, and who among us does not like doing that? It lets you open the door to seeing if it could be a good fit, what kinds of RP they are into (feel free to ask during the convo, most people are happy to tell you) and just get the dialogue started. From there you can probably work on an introduction.

B) You saw their amazing carrd/refsheet/tumblr/third party web page in their search info, looked it up, found their character and say “Yes! My character would love to meet a paid contract assassin with no morals” Or..um..something like that. Tastes vary and I don’t judge. Send them a tell!“I just read your carrd (or whatever) and it looks amazing. I really like your character and writing. Would you be up for some RP?” Again, a genuine compliment and trying to make the connection. They might ask you about your character. Tell them!

C) They are pretty pixels. *Sigh* let’s face it, it is going to happen. I would recommend, truly, if the only draw you have to someone’s character and a desire to RP with them is based on how pretty they are on screen..you choose someone else. Now I am not saying “No search info, no RP!” If someone is alone and you’re like “Hey lemme see what this Seeker is all about…” go for it. But if it is solely looks based and you contact the person because of them “looking hot” it reeks of ERP. I have gotten many many many of these tells. Way too many to count. 98% of the time that is where they head and my shields go up immediately

Now I am not insinuating you are looking for ERP and frankly the person you contact may not think so either. Additionally, realize rather bluntly, I don’t care. You should seek your enjoyment as you wish and there are lots of others in the sandbox who want the same thing. I am saying however based on experience I and others I have talked to have had…well you understand. Now if that *IS* what you are looking for, godspeed and good luck. I am not judging you. I will not however cover that here as a) I do not think it fits with the overall tone I am going for here and b) I don’t do random walk up ERP so I am in no way qualified to discuss it.

A few points to ponder!

1) Be honest and genuine! It comes across. Do this with your compliments, your language and your discussion.

2) Do NOT be afraid to tell them you are new! Most of us are very happy to help new people learn the ropes and we tend to be pretty tolerant of mistakes. We make them too! Also if you are shy they may be willing to do the walk up for you and make the approach to kick things off. (Score!)

3) DO NOT BE CREEPY. If your tell starts with “sexy kitten owo :))” odds are pretty good I am not going to be super receptive or get a good vibe from you to want to RP. (See “shields up” above)

4) Be respectful. This one goes without saying, or rather it should.

5) Remember RP is a dialogue. Go back and forth!

6) Do not be afraid to discuss things in tell in an ooc manner. If you are uncomfortable with something or are not sure how to proceed, let them know or ask.

7) (I wish I did not have to say this one but…) If someone goes outside your boundaries remember YOU are in control of YOUR character and YOURSELF. No one can force you to RP, force you to ERP or make you commit to a scene you are uncomfortable with. You are free to walk away at any time no matter who the person is if they go beyond your boundaries.This one is so very important. Most RPers are just a friendly lot looking for good times and friends. Some…are not. Do not let ANYONE take advantage of you. It is of course best to talk and not escalate immediately but at the end of the day your comfort and safety are far more important than the integrity of the RP!

8) Sometimes it is not all rainbows and sunshine. You will encounter crappy people sometimes. You will encounter people who for some reason or another are very elitist or don’t like your character or you. IT HAPPENS. No one owes anyone else RP or attention (likewise you don’t owe anyone either!). Let’s say that again. No one owes anyone else RP or attention (likewise you don’t owe anyone either!). Try not to let these incidents discourage you! For every one of them there are a dozen people standing around awkwardly waiting for someone else to make the first move! if you can be that person, you have already won the game.

9) Always say thank you for the RP! I mean forgetting is fine sometimes, we all forget, but if you had a great time? Let them know!I am certain there are 100 more helpful tips butttttt I think I babbled enough for now! I truly hope some of this was helpful. Thank you for indulging me, and happy RPing!

[otp-armada]

A Time Capsule

I’ve been lurking across several fandoms spanning a decade now, since my days of reading “Bones” fanfics on fanfiction.net. Before any inkling of Ao3’s existence. Maybe longer, my memory is murky at times.

I’ve never made a splash in any fandom, so to speak. I’ve always been content to stand shrouded in anonymity, residing on the edges of fandom, never an active participant. Perfectly at peace to never have a voice. Never brave enough to want to be heard. It has only been in the last few years that I discovered Tumblr and felt comfortable enough in taking advantage of its anon feature to interact mostly with The 100/Bellarke crowd, “conversing” with one user in particular. In the instances I chose to speak, there was safety in knowing my words never had an identity attached. A safety that lent itself to sending anon asks a fairly common activity until I wrote one recently sharing a remnant of my “The 100” viewing experience. The warm response from the users who read it left me smiling for the rest of the day. Their reply took a direction I didn’t expect. They encouraged me to take credit for my words under my username, which of course, I didn’t have, not being a Tumblr user.

I was flattered by the response, bolstering me to continue the line of conversation with another ask and was met with reiterated sentiments.

In the wise words of one of those awesome people,

“I was the ultimate lurker for a long, long time. I had a Tumblr account for four years before I ever made a single post, and even then I had to be talked into it. And you know what? When I finally starting “talking,” it was so freeing! Even if no one else was listening, even if I was speaking into the void, I was no longer dependent on anyone else to share my thoughts and opinions. I could do that myself.”

I took the compliment but waived the advice. Tumblr is made of communities built upon sharing and I have always been unto myself an island. It goes against my shy, introverted nature to take part in a community. I have no business pretending I have a place there. None at all.

And yet, despite my misgivings, the idea wouldn’t leave me as I believed it would. I started to genuinely ponder the merits of creating a blog.

There are strong reasons to support the affirmative.

First, the utilitarian benefits. In the absence of a blog, I turned to alternative methods of archiving appealing posts. If by some miracle, the item count of my browser reading list hasn’t yet ascended to the thousands mark, it most assuredly rests in the hundreds. My camera roll queue has indubitably reached the thousands count, currently sitting pretty at 3,300. I shudder to think of the sheer number of my bookmarks. One hundred and eighty notes on my phone. The final frontier has been broken, at last, habitually inundating my laptop with screenshots. Long has it been overdue to clean house.

Second, I find writing to be a herculean undertaking I enjoy in the moments it doesn’t drive me to the brink. A slow-going process, but when I’m able to appreciate the fruits of my labor, marvel at the polished product, I often feel quite proud. Writing is a skill I’ve lost touch with over years of disuse but found incrementally returning while expressing my opinions via Tumblr asks. Like any skill, it can be honed with time and practice. Transferring my streams of consciousness onto written medium challenges me to think critically, ask myself if my POV genuinely holds true or falls apart, requiring further reflection. If nothing else, it’s a good way to process thoughts and emotions. I find it easier than and therefore preferable to oral communication. I am a perpetual editor, always amending my statements which can’t really be done as effectively in speech.

Third, if there was ever a time to join the Tumblr fandom I’ve found a home in for the last three years, why not in time for the show’s last ride? The night I signed up for Tumblr coincided the first day of “The 100” cast and crew filming their 100th and poetically final episode. Around the same space of time, we got a release date and the nostalgic goodbyes of a few cast members rolled in. I know when Bellarke crosses the last threshold, I’d want it plastered all over my dash and I’d be able to make it happen.

But where there are pros, the cons inevitably follow.

Do I really need a further distraction from my responsibilities, spending additional hours and expending more energy I should not spare online? The too easy potential for more hours behind a screen when prone to headaches and horrid habits of not regulating my eating and sleeping schedules? The answer is a clear and resounding “No.” Would maintaining a blog be harmful to my mental and emotional health? Remaining anonymous has historically done a fine job of insulating me from general rebuke, which has mitigated the risk of reproach at least. No corner of the internet can be designated as a safe space. I knew I would in all likelihood have to work diligently to curate and be responsible for my experience, leading me to doubt how the effort could possibly be worth it. How could it be worth feeling exposed, self-conscious? Constantly second-guessing myself, debating whether or not my thoughts are best kept within the privacy of my mind to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes? Combating the periodic skepticism that my thoughts possess value worth writing?

There was always the lingering possibility I was overthinking the decision to my detriment, as is my norm. After all, it seemed silly and dramatic to regard one obscure little blog in a sea of hundreds of millions of social media users as momentous. But I know myself better than that. It is a really fucking big deal for me.

I vacillated between both sides of the argument for days before deciding not to follow through with the venture.

And then one night, a single stray observation ran through my mind. One observation became another, became another and before I knew it, I had formed the grounds for an entire meta post. It didn’t end there. More ideas filtered through. I expanded on those ideas. More traction gained. Another meta formed. More jumping off previous points. Before long, I had mentally written the foundations for four metas. And I was so excited and proud of forming these connections to this puzzle without even trying that I wanted to share it. I sat down to write them in my trusty Notes, outlining, trying to jot the main points down before they fizzled away from memory. I saw how long-winded these spiels had gotten sans the full writeup, subsequently rationalizing…well, not blowing up someone’s inbox is just good manners, isn’t it? And terribly inefficient to boot. More to the point, it seemed a disservice to myself to censor my rumination to fit the small confines of a Tumblr ask box.

The part of me that wanted to push forward envisioned what the future of my blogging efforts may look like. That part knows that this blog is for me and only me. What makes me laugh, what makes me cry. Smile. Rage. Flail. Think. Whatever the hell I want. I get to say what I want, however, I want. It’s incredibly nerve-wracking. It’s also exciting, thrilling, and yes, freeing. The notion of carving out a tiny space for me to fill to the endless brim with whatever brings me joy makes me…really damn happy. It’s not an easy feat to accept and harder to retain. I should be ok, so long as I never forget that I get to be in control of what happens here. It’s within my right to block anyone I don’t want to engage or associate with. It’s my full right to not care what anyone else has to say if I don’t want to. Block out anything negative I don’t want to endure with only a few clicks. If I decide I want to walk away, permanently or otherwise, for any reason, it’s within my right to do that too. It’s comforting.

There was a time when I “knew” I would never sign up for an Ao3 account until one of my favorite authors withdrew the majority of her stories from public consumption. I “knew” I was never going to post commentary until I did. I “knew” my username would never be seen by anyone aside from me, never to be affiliated with my commentary until it was.

I did. Each and every time I thought I would never, I did. I broke my own barriers with patience and some courage. Maybe the most intimidating aspect of something new is simply the beginning. I said earlier that I’ve been an island for nearly as long as I can remember. It’s still true, I don’t expect overnight results. It’s probably going to be true for a long time. Perhaps forever. But maybe it’s all the more reason why I should take this step toward peeking out of my self-imposed shell. Do what scares you, or whatever it is they say.

I wish I could say it was enough to reverse my earlier verdict.

Nope, I had to agonize some more.

What can I say? Fear is a damn powerful inhibitor.

Lo and behold, as if the universe took pity on me, I got the chance to communicate directly with the same awesome lady whom I quoted above and she kindly offered some more merciful wisdom to a truly maddeningly indecisive individual:

“When you create a blog, you are STILL anonymous. You have a username, yes, but it doesn’t lead back to you unless you want it to. You still have your personal privacy. Tumblr isn’t Facebook. If you want to disclose personal information, you can, but you certainly don’t have to.

And second, your blog is for you, not for anyone else. It’s for you to express your own opinions. Or create gifs or other visuals. Or just repost what other people create. You can be on every day, or just once a week. It’s also a great way to save stuff you might want to look at again. And then… and then… when brilliance suddenly hits you, you have somewhere to let it hang out! 😁”

It was much I had already considered, but it helped immeasurably to have my reasoning reaffirmed from an external source I respect. I logged into Tumblr for the first time the very same night.

After much deliberation, an uncharacteristic burst of bravery and a grueling four hours I owe to technological ineptitude, I have, tentatively and cautiously, opted to give this Tumblr thing a go.

With luck, a day will never arrive when I dust this preamble off for a much-needed pep talk. Instead, it is my hope that one day, this memo-to-me will stand as proof that I don’t always need to be afraid of the unknown. Not all endeavors have to be as frightening as they may appear. And if I can apply this attitude to all else suppressing my personal growth, I might just be peachy someday.

Bearing this in mind…

…here we go.