#study. ⟼ a mess of a story i’m ashamed to tell.

[skelly-words]

Sukuna/gn!Reader

Summary- this is a little fic I wrote in one sitting kinda based off my headcanons. There’s a whole outline for their relationship that I have going on in my head, but this is when they meet in college. I think they’re both juniors or seniors.

this isn't even a meet-cute or anything because Sukuna is such a douche. He doesn't even tell the MC his name bruh.

It’s a quiet morning. School is busy; study, lecture, homework, exams, repeat. It’s gotten better as the year progresses and you settle into a quiet routine. These mornings are nice; when you’re forced to get up with the sun and walk to the bus you take to campus.

Your professor is boring. He’s an older man who probably had amazing ideas in his youth. But now, he often loses his train of thought halfway through equations. It made the class difficult to take notes in and the final would suck, but as long as you passed, it didn’t matter. As an act of mercy, lecture ends early. You slide your hefty laptop into your bag and sling it over your shoulder. The next class you have is still a few hours away. You walk to the West end of campus, where a cluster of cafes supplies students with caffeine and a warm place to study when the weather gets icy. It’s too busy for you to hang around, so you just get a coffee and look for somewhere quieter to be. 

The library always has people in it, but the stacks go so deep and two stories tall, so it’s always easy to get lost in them and avoid people completely. It smells like old books and you nestle on the floor in the science fiction section with your jackets and coffee. What starts as studying quickly devolves as you find a familiar-looking title staring at you from between the shelves and you start to read. 

People filter in and out of the library as classes end and begin, finding a place to camp out through the awkward gaps in their day. You just watch them pass down the hall between the shelves.

“Are you stalking people from back here?”

The sound of someone else’s voice made your heart jump. You first feel ashamed of being caught until you realize that you’ve done nothing wrong. You gather yourself up from the floor, novel, jacket, coffee and bag, before turning around.

“Excuse me?” You mumble, attempting indifference while trying to keep your jacket pinned against your side. He’s too tall, where you feel a little uneasy at the difference, so you stay focused on the off-white linoleum instead.

“I’m just messing with you. Can I get to Asimov, though?” He seems as good with manners as you are, awkwardly gesturing that you move to the side. You stare dumbly at the tattoo marks that wrap around his wrists as he tries to sweep you out of the way.

“Excuse me?” you repeat.

“I like Isaac Asimov. His shelf’s behind you.”

“Shit, sorry.” You step to the side and watch him bend over and examine the titles. His jaw flexes from side to side with his shifting weight as he reads. More tattoos are visible on his face, dramatically following his features, but those are all you can see. It’s like the lines on his face and bands on his wrists are placed just to subtly imply more, a teasing notion that’s satisfied when the sleeve of his t-shirt lifts enough to show the band on his bicep.

“I was reading, not watching people back here.”

He hums noncommittally and continues his search for whatever novel he’s looking for. “You're watching me, creep.” He turns his head quickly to catch you in the act.

“I’m waiting for you to get out of my spot. I was reading there,” you say indignantly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he trails off. His finger runs down the spine of a paperback and he tugs it free from the tight shelf. “You stole my corner though.”

You scrunch up your nose like your one-hour stake on the science-fiction section means something. “Why do you read back here?” 

“Like you can talk. I found you back here,” he says like you are a specimen or discovery. “Why’re you reading back here?”

“I meant to study, but I shouldn’t have surrounded myself with interesting books. Plus, like you said, I’m a creep. I like it back here.”

You glance up at him to see the same studying look he’d given the books being used on you. He’s thinking about what to say next for longer than he should have to.

“What’s your name, huh?” he matches the question with a soft tilt of his head. His brows furrow when you don’t answer after a beat. “C’mon, I wanna know you.”

“Yeah.” You’re not sure when your skepticism becomes rude, probably whenever he decides to become offended by the shrewd up-and-down glance you give him. “What’s yours?” You know him, not personally. But he’s an athlete and you recognize his tattoos and bright eyes from your University’s social media posts. His widening grin meant that he could tell you were bullshitting around.

“Who gives a fuck about me,” he dismisses, in a heavy breath like he’s just as exasperated with himself as you are. He steps closer, and you can see the dark metal of his piercings glimmer in the low light, one in each ear, and a band around the center of his bottom lip. “What’s your name?”

You can smell his cologne and it makes your name slip from the tip of your tongue. You didn’t mean for it to come out, tightening your lips into a fine line as if that could take it back. He laughs and repeats it twice to you. His tongue runs over the syllables slowly the first time, and the second time to tease as your face begins to warm.

“You’re real fucking funny.”

“I’ll be even funnier over text.” He grins and takes his phone out of his back pocket.

“I’m not dati- I don’t date.” You wish it sounded firmer, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

“Me neither.” He hands you his open Instagram. Apparently, you don’t make the cut for new contact.

“I’m not ‘not dating’ either. That’s not my thing.” But you take his phone anyway and look yourself up.

“Oh, so like-” he seems to think for a moment while you take out your phone to approve his follow request. “You wanna be friends?” It’s a stale and disappointed question that you can tell he knows the answer to.

“If that’s not cool with you then don't worry about it.” You shrug and readjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “As long as I get to keep my new follower, I don’t see a difference.”

a/n- radiohead starts playing. Anyway, probably won’t make this a legit series, but if y’all like it I’ll write more of this au. It’s friends to lovers but not super slow (in my imagination because let me reiterate: none of this is actually written).

Are the banners and breaks working? bc I'm so sick of my blog being busted as fuck. I regret being a tomboy my whole life bc now idk how to be cute and aesthetic and I'm filled with rage asdijfaoiwjdvcois

[neptoons1998]

Chili Brownies

A/N: Thank you guys for liking the first chapter. In this chapter I wanted to really write some angst because I need some practice.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2:

A beat can keep you steady.

That’s what Okoye relies on throughout her life. When she lost both her parents in a car accident. Her beat changed, she focused on making sure her baby sister, Ayo was okay through the transition between the funeral and living with their strict uncle. Having a beat kept Okoye steady.

She was so excited, in a small room back of the chapel. Her heart was beating pretty fast, Okoye was used to it. She used to track and field during her high school and college years that pattern was like a second home to her. Okoye couldn’t stop smiling, Ayo began to worry that she might split her face. 

“That can’t happen right?” Okoye asked as she touched the lace of her sheath-shaped dress. Everything had to be perfect after all, Okoye already planned out how her scrapbook would look, with W’kabi and her. Which pictures she would use in order to tell a fairytale-like story to their children. 

Ayo sighed as she squated her sister’s hands away from her dress, “Yes,it’s runs in the family y’know.” 

“You’re not funny sister,” Okoye said as she gazed into the mirror once more. Ayo couldn’t help but teased her sister on her special day. She was the youngest, sue her. Ayo had some reservations about W’kabi. To her, Okoye could do better, but she knew she will think that her sister could do better. Okoye was always the strong and reliable one when Ayo was in her rebellious phase. Always covering her when she went out and partied instead of being at a special event their uncle wanted them to be. 

She was the first person she came out to, and Ayo was ready for the disgust and being rebuked by her sister. Only to find out how wrong she underestimated her sister. 

“Mama and Baba would be proud,”Ayo said to her.

Okoye’s eyes soften, “Really?”

“Yes, afterall it’s sunny day for a wedding,”Ayo smiled at her as clasped her hand with her sister’s as they walked out of small room. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S GONE!” Their uncle roared out as he pointed one of his narrow fingers at W’kabi’s father. The men were shouting at one other in the arbor.

“He’s gone what else do you want me to say?” His father shouted right back. He wasn't sure where he went, but he knew his son screwed up big time, forcing his father once again to clean up his messes.

Their uncle’s lips screwed up like he ate a bitter lemon, “How can there be a wedding if there's no groom? Are you telling me, he just ran off?"

“What do you mean he’s gone?” Okoye asked causing the chaos to stop. Everyone looked anguished at Okoye. Her heartbeat was speeding up once again, but like before. Not like when she run or the anxious feeling she had when she got her dream job. The beat was different, it was dread. She handled her sister's hand tightly.

“Okoye,”T’Challa spoke first. Her cousin was the one who set them up during the time Okoye should have put more focus on her studies, “I don’t think he’s coming back.”

Okoye didn’t know what feeling she should act on; one wants to sucker punch her ex. W’kabi left her feeling humiliated and ashamed. The woman couldn’t look in her uncle’s eyes for a few weeks before she randomly decided to quit being a lawyer and run a bake shop. She knew her uncle thought Okoye had lost her mind. But the other feeling the small part of her desperately wanted to know why. Why did you run away like that? Was I not go enough for you? Why didn’t you tell me, instead of running away? As Okoye was spiraling seeing her ex, Aneka glared at the man, “I’m surprised you came back. I thought cowards tend to stay hidden.”

“Aneka,” W’kabi greeted the man and gave a stiff smile at the woman. Aneka crossed her arms, he’s still weak as ever. 

The man looked at Okoye, “I’m here to make amends.”

Aneka scoffed, “Well, you can take your little amends and shov-”

Okoye place her hand on Aneka’s shoulder, “I can handle it.” 

Aneka looked at her. She knew Okoye can handle herself that’s not what doubt, the woman could help but be a little protective of her. After all who’s protecting her when she’s protecting everyone else? Aneka thought as quickly as the question arrived she remember the answer giving a huff, Attuma. 

“Fine, I’ll take my thirty minute break,” Aneka exclaimed as she gave W’Kabi adeathly stare, “And only thirty minutes.”

With that the woman walked out of the small store. Leaving Okoye with W’Kabi; the baker knew she needed to know the reason why. Afterall these years, why come back.

“So, start.”

A/N: Let me know your thoughts because I really want to know how was the angst.

[rustbeltjessie]

:: Regarding Silphium, the Birth Control of the Roman Empire for 600 Years, Extincted by Careless Land Management in the Year 200 AD ::

When I was just about done being married and he was a blossomed-out nerve of seeing himself through the ugly eyes of how I had come to see him and myself for letting our lives get so Tupperware-fur-molded, for thinking I could lace and pinprick it back with just the right delicacy, when a good punch in the face was what a mess this bad required. (I know, you’re thinking a punch in the face is never the answer, but that’s the lace talking.) When I was just about done with the lace-throated maybe-violence, our daughter, who is five, told me how he broke—she didn’t say he broke, she said he got really worked up—driving past all the protestors outside Planned Parenthood on Providence Ave., from which the university medical school had just withdrawn funding and also the option for residents to do training there, how he took a hard left into the parking lot and with our daughter by the hand marched in with an urgency that made the young man working the desk say, “Sir?” with some alarm. He took a breath to be more steady and said, “I’m so sorry about all of this—all of that out there— and I just thought I’d make a donation” as he pulled all the money from his wallet, some of it crumpled, a mixture of 5s and 1s, and pushed it across the counter, our daughter watching and looking around the room, studying the faces of timid and nervous young women, I imagine, in those plastic chairs I remember from when I once sat in this exact waiting room myself, so many years ago, feeling embarrassed and ashamed because it seemed that’s what I was supposed to feel, though if I could have felt my way beyond supposed to back then to my actual self, I would have known I didn’t feel sorry at all, only annoyed by the tedium of appointments, the practical necessity of that clean smell, the chilly dustless air of a building with nothing soft except the aspect of the resident, who is the only doctor I have ever had who joked as she put her gloved hand in my body. “I guess this is the most awkward thing you’ll do today, huh?” It was funny and made me feel like we’d been friends a long time. My husband, who is still my husband after all, knew that story and I guess he wanted our daughter to somehow know it too. “Sometimes you’ll feel very alone,” I tell her on a day when I find her pressing her face against the window, watching the children next door play in the grass, wiping tears from her face as fast as they fall. “Other times you’ll be so wonderfully surprised by the strange bridges people manage to build out to you when you never would have expected they could.”

—Kathryn Nuernberger, from Rue (BOA Editions, 2020)

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

You asked for it! Sending you asks: I'm always so impressed by people who tell stories in their second, third, etc language. When did you start learning English? What made you decide to write in English? Do you write in Italian or anything else?

Aw, thanks so much! ❤️

I studied English at school for several years, I also watch TV series in English (with Italian subtitles sometimes when they really have a thick accent lol) and movies too. So at the end of the day, I understand it, I can write in English (but I still mess up, can you believe it? I never learn lol) but I’m not used to have conversations in English so that’s the most difficult part for me and I’m still ashamed of my accent 🙊

I decided to write in English because it's a wider audience and then once I finished school I lost the practice of writing it and wanted to start again. I also have never read Pedro's ff in Italian and I don't even know if they exist lol

I wrote about fifty ff in Italian many many years ago for other fandoms and I've always enjoyed writing and reading. I also wrote poems when I was a teenager 😂

I hope I've been exhaustive, if there's anything else you want to know just ask 😘

[irninfidel]

someday i will talk about. actually screw it i’m not doing anything rn. alright gang let’s talk about kankri and gender identity

so yes i do agree that it makes no sense for trolls to have a concept of “trans” as far as the common anatomy hcs go. however idc. kankri is transmasc nonbinary. in humans.tuck as well dw

i’ve mentioned before that kankri just pretends to be an indigo when he begins speaking to the others. he didn’t know any of them irl, seeing as even his having access to a computer was touch and go and also frankly beforan culture is so insidious that i do doubt most of the alphas would be capable of being his friend without first learning that he isn’t fun to cull jkdjsd. in the same vein, he also decides that he has no reason to present as his assigned gender when they don’t even know him. so bam he/him pronouns and MAYBE a name change. i’ve not decided on that yet. idk that kankri would even call himself trans at that point tbh.

kankri is very aware of how he can compare his blood color and his gender identity there, and he does use that as a talking point later on. i don’t think he learns the word “nonbinary” until after meeting everyone, and at that point he’s v comfy w the pronouns he uses and they/them becomes like...a secondary option. s/n if you want to use they/them in threads etc (bc your muse seems like the type who would or bc you just want to idk) you totally can and i’ll swap to match

while i’m here, i really don’t think he wants to make much of an event out of his coming out; he does love labels, and if anyone asks, he’ll provide those labels, but he doesn’t ever really come out bc he doesn’t like that type of attention. i also want to discuss uhhh gender presentation. kankri does struggle w how he presents himself in gender just as he does w everything else--it’s a general fear that people will argue if he doesn’t do sm correctly. if he didn’t have this, he’d probably be a lot more open to femininity, but like...he does. he is a bit more androgynous than most fanart has him as tho...good for him.

a last note. i’ve mentioned this before BUT kankri’s argument w p.orrim abt gender dynamics was such a cheap way for h.ussie to be all “wow isn’t he terrible” and it was very stupid. however i will accept it, so long as we frame that scene as kankri arguing for the sake of arguing solely bc it’s p.orrim. he is perfectly capable of having civilized convos w her (yes, even abt gender) but she interrupted his convo w k.arkat so he was in a bad mood smhh

[championfought]

tag  dump! ( sidon, revali )

[cheelseaaaa]

Forever

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: you left to study abroad and after years of studying, you're back and you saw her again. Would it be another start for you two from where you left off or would you stay as strangers?

Warnings: This story is rushed.

Word count: 985

A/N: The poem vow is written by Louise Cuddon, “I’ll be there” credits go to her. English is not my first language

Masterlist

uh. part two of I have no regrets, it was supposed to be an open-ended story, but someone ask for part two, so here it is ;-;

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ──────── ⊰

It’s been years since you left, everything has changed. The surroundings, and people around you in your little town, different. But the things that didn’t change at all are the cold morning breeze hitting your face and the smell of the sea just a few miles away from where you are. It’s good to be back home.

Your first weeks in Australia were hell. You felt homesick. There were times where you just wanna go home to your parents. Sometimes you cry to sleep because you miss everyone. Your family, your friends, your Natasha.

But you need to be strong, for your future and for your success.

And now you are back to where it all started. Your town. Specifically, under that tree. Where you both love to spend your time together to where everything started to fall apart.

You placed your hand on the tree, where your initials and her initials were engraved. You miss her. You’d be lying if you say that you don't love her. Because clearly, after many years it's still her. It will always be her.

As you were about to walk away, someone spoke behind you. “Y/N?” you froze. It’s her. That calming voice you haven’t heard for a long time yet a voice you have never forgotten.

You slowly turn around and saw her. Her hair loose with small braids, those emerald eyes glimmering beautifully, and a face that you have been longing for since you left. You’ve been staring at her for minutes now, Natasha spoke once again, taking you out of your trance.

“I'm— I'm sorry. It’s just that. I haven't seen you for years.” you said and rub the back of your neck. You feel nervous. Hella nervous.

“It’s been seven years.”

“That long, huh?” you said and both of you fell into an awkward silence. You can hear your own heartbeat.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to get rid of the deafening silence around you.

“I'm good. I'm a lawyer now,” she answered, it’s good to hear that she's doing well. It was all you wished for. Her being successful in life and contented as well as her happiness.

You nod. “That's... Uh, good to hear. I'm happy for you.” You smiled at her before looking down on your feet. You're damn ashamed. You are so ashamed on what you did to her back then. You still could have been with her if you weren’t such a coward. But no, you let your fear overpower you. You fear that she will find someone else while you were away. You fear that she will lose her love for you and you fear that she might get tired of you.

“How long are you planning to stay here?” she asked suddenly making you perk up and look at her. You smiled timidly and spoke.

“Forever.”

She looks at you warily before asking again. “What was that supposed to mean?”

“That I will stay here for the rest of my life. I’m never leaving again.”

__________

Seven-year later, today’s the day. The day marked as the day you saw her again coming back from abroad. Amusingly, today is also the day you'll marry her.

Yes, you will marry the woman who you shared your dreams. The woman you love after so many years. The woman who can never be replaced. Your Natasha.

You look at her in the eyes and smile. You put the mic inches from your mouth before you speak your vow.

“I’ll be there my darling, through thick and through thin

When your mind’s in a mess and your head’s in a spin

When your plane’s been delayed, and you’ve missed the last train.

When life is just threatening to drive you insane

When your thrilling whodunit has lost its last page

When somebody tells you, you’re looking your age”

The first time you two met again was under the tree, seven years ago. You both had settled everything, you resolved your issues and learned that you still love each other’s after how many years had passed.

“When your coffee’s too cool, and your wine is too warm

When the forecast said “Fine”, but you’re out in a storm

When your quick break hotel, turns into a slum

And your holiday photos show only your thumb

When you park for five minutes in a resident’s bay

And return to discover you’ve been towed away

When the jeans that you bought in hope or in haste

Just stick on your hips and don’t reach round your waist

When the food you most like brings you out in red rashes

When as soon as you boot up the bloody thing crashes-”

You paused and glance at the audience, you saw your mom crying on your dad's shoulder while watching you. You saw your friends trying their best not to cry but some tears are falling. You returned your gaze to her; she's crying she just don't want anyone to see it.

“So, my darling, my sweetheart, my dear…

When you break a rule, when you act the fool

When you’ve got the flu when you’re in a stew

When you’re last in the queue, don’t feel blue ’cause

I’m telling you; I’ll be there.

Forever.” You ended.

The officiant gave you permission to kiss the bride. You stared at her emerald eyes making you lost in your trance. You perk up when you heard Noah, your 5-year-old shouting. “Just kiss!”

You look at him and playfully roll your eyes. “Don't ruin the moment, young man.” you’re about to give him a lecture, in the middle of your wedding, when your wife grabbed your face and kissed you.

After a minute, she let go and smile teasingly. “You talk too much.”

You stood there shocked. You touch your lips and looked at her. What the hell just happened. “I demand another kiss! A proper one!”

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ──────── ⊰

A/N: Should I start doing requests or Nah? Should I also make taglist? Feedback is very much appreciated. I am posting every Monday and Thursday around 3am EST.

[awkwardgtace]

Secret Brother Pt1

New OCs let's go. Trying out something idk if I'll write more with these guys. Realizing some bit of traumatic past seems required in my ocs so far.

TW: mentions of abandonment. Later parts will have mentions of a borrower being treated like a pet this is entirely painted in how fuckin wrong it is and how it added to the trauma.

Part 2 Part 3 (Final)

Secret Brother Part 1

Everything started when Mikhail’s students were talking about some weird happenings in their dorm. Things were going missing and a voice was heard commonly late at night. They started to say they thought it was haunted. He offered to host a study session to disprove anything, making sure to bring his shoulder bag. It was easy enough to leave open on the ground and should be tempting enough for the ‘ghost’ to climb in. He kept a close eye out and sat near a wall he thought he saw a crack in. He was starting to worry that this wouldn’t work, until he saw a small form climbing up the edge of his bag. He didn’t like doing this, but he knew the students in this dorm were more likely to share their discovery. They were being too obvious here, probably someone who just struck out on their own. Now the dorm ‘ghost’ would be somewhere much safer and could learn the skills they needed.

Mikhail was anxious for the remainder of the session. He couldn’t be obvious for the sake of the one in his bag, and the others around him. He carefully placed his bag on his shoulder, opting to carry the books he’d used out as he continued speaking with the students. He rushed to his car, placing the bag safely on the floor of the passenger seat. He took the drive slower than normal, eyes constantly drifting to his bag. He parked and rushed straight to his door. Once inside he placed his bag on the ground, unzipped it, and pulled out a random book. He quickly walked off, settling down in a chair pretending to read. He was keeping an eye out for when his passenger left the bag. After an hour he decided to just leave the bag on the floor for a few days, give the little one time to get out.

It took a few days, but he finally heard the ‘ghost’ acting. It started with a clatter sound from his kitchen late at night. He held his breath, waiting for another sign. A voice that sounded somewhat young started mumbling. He wanted to get involved and help, but it’s never gone well in the past. He would just stay as an oblivious human and they could figure this all out. At least that was his promise to himself, but the little one was far from subtle. He could hear them talking to themselves on a daily basis, they were leaving messes, and worst of all they left trails back to their entrances. Mikhail had promised himself he wouldn’t get involved anymore, but he couldn’t leave this. He sighed, gathering what he needed to help out the inexperienced borrower.

He faked a phone call claiming he’d be gone for a few days then left shutting the door loudly. He went around to the back of his house, pulling out a fishing hook with a line attached and hanging it on the windowsill of the kitchen window. He’d left it open just enough someone the size of his guest could squeeze through. He focused on the feeling he’d grown used to over the years and watched the world slowly grow around him. In only a few seconds the world towered around him. He started climbing quickly, a little out of practice since he’d gotten his size under control.

He squeezed through the open window, reminding himself to open it just a bit more next time. Once inside he froze, he never once considered the borrower might recognize him. He considered squeezing out the window again, but was stopped before taking a step. He heard a small clatter, and saw a poorly made paper clip hook fail to catch. He heard a groan from below as the paper clip fell from the counter. He just had to hope they wouldn’t notice the similarities between the human they were living with and the new borrower in the house. He took a steadying breath then marched to the edge of the counter. The borrower was already murmuring to themselves, it was clearly a problem.

“You know you’ll get caught talking to yourself like that right?” he called down. The source of the failed hook screamed, clearly not expecting anyone to be here. Mikhail hadn’t been wrong, this was definitely a kid. They were probably a teenager, and honestly didn’t look like they’d had an easy time. He took his own hook, placing it down and throwing the string off the edge. “Climb up and we can talk. Don’t want to be too loud in case the human is around.”

The kid had no hesitation climbing up, that much trust could be dangerous. Although most people this size trusted each other almost blindly. They were worn out and panting once they were at the top of the counter, clearly new to borrowing. Had he accidentally kidnapped a young curious kid? He’d find out if anyone else was there once he’d trained the kid a bit. He gave them another minute before finally starting with his plan.

“Kid, why were you making so much noise? Half of being a borrower is being quiet especially when out in the open.” he said. The kid opened their eyes and Mikhail realized he’d made a mistake. Their eyes were watery, they must have been terrified. The kid sniffled a bit as they finally got their breath back.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” they said, “my parents didn’t really teach me how to borrow yet. W-we were on our way to a new home when a storm hit and I got separated. I wound up here by accident. I climbed in the human’s bag, I thought I saw loose threads I could use, along with some food. Th-they closed the bag on me and I wound up in this house.”

“Where were you before?” Mikhail asked. He wondered if there was a chance he could find the kid’s parents at the school.

“I’m not sure, I was dragged by water for a long time. When I got out of it I-I ran to the first building I found. I’m pretty sure they got dragged away too...” the kid’s voice was quiet. They seemed to know they weren’t going to find their parents. It sounded like there may be more to the story the kid didn’t want to mention yet. Mikhail would do everything he could to make sure they could survive on their own. He was getting attached already and he hated it.

“Well I was planning to stay here for a few days before moving on again,” he started. “I can teach you the basics. I happen to know you picked a pretty good human to live with. This one doesn’t tend to investigate small noises, but he has gotten curious from times I took too much.”

“Wait wait, you'll teach me? W-why? Isn’t it better to just move on and leave me to whatever happens?”

“Who told you that?” Mikhail’s voice went icy. The kid lost their family and just needed some guidance.

“Well, I uh, I met other borrowers who always said that. Then my parents too...sometimes.”

Mikhail was ready to scream hearing that. He’d dealt with people like that a lot since he lost his parents. He wrapped his arm around the kid’s shoulders and pulled him into a half hug. They froze but soon melted into the contact, he started rubbing his arm on their arm to calm them. The kid started to cry and Mikhail just let them. He knew they were safe and later, he’d say they should be careful. He let them go as long as they wanted, he knew sometimes you just needed times like this. The kid was the first one to pull away, looking a bit ashamed as they did so.

“I’m sorry about that,” they said. “We were lucky the human didn’t come back, I could have gotten us both caught. I-if this is where you usually live I can leave. I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“I offered to teach you, didn't I? No one has to leave, besides I tend to be a bit more nomadic. My name is Mik, he and him,” he said.

“I-I,” the kid shook his head, “My name is Ian, he and him too, I think. Are you really all right to teach me?”

“Don’t worry about the he and him thing too much, if something else feels right just tell me, ok Ian?”

Ian nodded his head. Mikhail took the time to really assess him now that he didn’t have to worry about being an accidental kidnapper. He didn’t look like he’d had much to eat recently, although that wasn’t uncommon for borrowers. His clothes were a bit baggy, and needed some patching. Mikhail may try to pull some tricks with his shifting to get him some better clothes. Ian seemed to be at least a full inch shorter than Mikhail, which wasn’t reassuring if they ever met when he was human.

“Ian, how old are you?” he finally asked. He needed an idea before deciding the next steps.

“I-I’m seventeen, or well I’m almost seventeen.”

Mikhail nodded, a little surprised he was that old. Ian was just a teenager after all. He knew what to do then. First they’d make a better hook, then practice having it catch on tables and counters. Then how to grab supplies without leaving a trace. He’d leave him with the fish hook once the few days he gave himself were up. The fish hook and line is sturdier, and would last with fewer replacements longer. Perfect for someone still just learning, plus he could just start a collection of random hooks to leave out.

“All right, here's the plan,” Mikhail explained. It didn’t take more than that for Ian to get excited. He trailed behind Mikhail hanging on every word, mouthing the important things. Mikhail felt like he had a little brother with how this was going. He couldn’t deny that he was enjoying being with Ian like this. It’s been a while since he really spent time with people outside of work. By the time the weekend ended and ‘Mik’ had to move on, neither was happy with it. Mikhail knew Ian would get better without trouble, but he didn’t want to leave him alone.

They were sitting in Ian’s home, set up a lot better with the supplies they grabbed safely over two days. Ian had gotten into a habit of staying almost on top of Mikhail while in the home, like he thought he’d disappear. It left Mikhail with a sour feeling, knowing he had to leave the kid at least for the week. He jumped a little as that thought crossed his mind. He could, probably, keep this up on the weekends. Eventually Ian would see the human’s face and he may put two and two together, until then he could keep this up. He’d only come back until he was positive Ian wasn’t being reckless, if he went a week without seeing him then ‘Mik’ would come to say goodbye. It would work fine and then Ian wouldn’t have to deal with everything that’s happened alone.

“Can I go with you?” Ian asked, it knocked Mikhail from his thoughts. Mikhail looked at him with a sad smile shaking his head. “Why not? You said I was doing well. I can get used to being an outdoors borrower. Or, or just a traveling one or whatever. Please?”

“It’s too dangerous. Maybe when you’ve improved more. I don’t want you taking risks you don’t have to. I was told the same thing by the person who taught me everything,” Mikhail explained, he knew he couldn’t just abandon him. “I can try to come back though. I help keep some others connected, but I’ll come back, I promise.”

Ian grabbed him tight into a hug, the promise barely keeping him together. Mikhail knew it was a dumb idea, but he couldn’t do it. He’d promised himself not to get involved with borrowers again after the last time, but he never expected to find a kid who had no one. Once Ian could take care of himself he’d tell him the truth and then deal with the consequences. For now he’d help him stay safe. Ian fell asleep holding Mikhail in a tight hug. He knew he shouldn’t stay like this, but it was nice to be with someone else. After a few hours he knew he had to leave. It was Monday so he had to be a human again and go to work.

He slipped out of Ian’s grasp, careful not to wake him. Quietly he grabbed the hook that they’d fashioned out of some threads and a paper clip, leaving Ian the one that he’d brought. He snuck through the walls until reaching an entrance that he’d leave open just enough to come in through again. Once out of the walls he focused on shifting back to his human size, the world slowly matching him again. He quickly made his way to the front door, keeping an eye out for anyone awake right now. He snuck in quietly, trying to avoid being loud enough to wake Ian up. He collapsed on his bed, turning his phone on with an alarm set for the class that started in a few hours.

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

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 5 years ago.

 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

---------

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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

[thecharlestonroyalfamily]

Here’s the thing about the royal simblr drama..

So I feel like I’m a fairly neutral party in the middle of all this drama (kinda fitting considering that’s what I build my nation as as well). I know and have worked on my story both with the people accused and those who haven’t. All of them are lovely people who I’ve enjoyed working with and who gave me no hard time. Now sadly I’ve found out that this isn't the case for everyone. However as I too care about this community I want to help and make it a better place.

Here are some points of observation from someone with years of studying and first hand experience in psychology about the situation: (It’s a long post)

1. The “cliques”. Now we as humans naturally tend to form “cliques”; groups of like minded people who we share interests with. This is completely normal and nothing to be ashamed off. And we as people also tend to not get along with everyone. This too is also fine and completely normal. It is completely okay and acceptable to vent about people/things/concepts you don’t like or find annoying to your friends. We all do it. Yes, even as adults, cause guess what we don’t all get along and that is fine. Is this an excuse to treat someone like shit? No and that’s where the problem begins. 

2. Power corrupts. Shortly when we as humans are placed in a position of power aka a situation where we feel we have the upper hand or are in some form “above” others it gets to our heads (take the 1971 Stanford Prison Experiment as an example). Now I’m not saying that these people necessarily think themselves better, I’m saying that with bigger follower number and more influence your behavior might change. Maybe they don’t even consider themselves being mean or gatekeeping.

3. Original ideas. There is no such thing as an original idea. All of us have had our stories inspired by other stories, real or fiction, to some extend. However this does NOT mean you can flat out copy someone else’s storyline. But what is counted as copying? If you take another creators scene, plotline, etc. and add it your story without making any or barely any changes THEN you’re copying. “But I have a scene just like XXX and now I’m being blamed for copying.” If you didn’t intentionally do it, it’s not malicious copying and you can still fix it. If you’re unsure talk it over with the other blog and/or just re-take the pictures from a different angle or re-write dialogue. Being inspired by others if fine! Just know and learn the difference between inspiration and copying.

4. Gatekeeping. Now this is a tad tricky. You see those who first started telling royal simblr stories, and in doing so created this community, might have had or might still have ideas and wishes for what this community looks like. However since this community is this large it’s simply impossible to have those wished granted. We all have different sets of skills and amount of time to put into our stories. While to some this is like making their own book or tv show, others just want to take pretty pictures of sims in grand palaces and tiaras. Both of these approaches are fine and valid! The problem is that when you hold something in high value to yourself and see someone else just “mess around” with it you feel hurt. How can they not take this seriously?! But the thing is they are, just as you. They just have a different set of goals and motivation for their story. Not every book is a bestseller and that is okay.

5. False positivity. False positivity helps no one however there’s a difference between being falsely positive and being supportive. The main difference? What you wanted out of the conversation. A person looking for criticism to improve their work does not want or benefit from just supportive comments alone! If that’s all they get they’ll get frustrated and that’s where bad feeling towards other start. Same thing other other side, a person looking for encouragement does not want criticism! What they need is your thumbs up emojis and a few positive words. If they get unasked for critique they don’t receive it as such, to them it’s easily just bullying. 

How to fix the situation:

Now please note that these are just MY individual ideas. There’s no simple solution to this and it surely doesn’t happen over night but change can be made.

1. Make two separate channels on the server; CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM and ENGOURAGEMENT. Those looking for support can choose which variety they want and need. Now this also means that if you go to the criticism channel that’s what you’ll get! Everyone needs to take personal responsibility on this and not go on the channels they don’t want. If you don’t want criticism from complete strangers DM a friend, or ask a specific creator if they’d have the time to give you critique. 

2. Own what you’ve said, and apologize. Those that have said mean words need to own up to them, apologize from the individuals affected and stop. Private messages shared between friends is fine (it’s human nature), however if your discussions revolve around judging and/or belittling others you might want to reconsider. Also if you’re not directly involved or asked keep your opinions to yourself. No one likes unsolicited comments.

3. NO MORE GATEKEEPING! Now this is should be obvious to everyone. This is a community which means people are going to do things differently. Don’t follow blogs who’s stories you’re not interested in. Don’t send anon hate cause you don’t like what they do. Unlearn the idea that there’s only one way to tell a royal simblr story. If you can’t do that, grow up.

4. Say no. If you don’t want to collab with someone say no. Seriously. Going around this will only create more behind the scenes trash talking. And if you’re told no, accept it. Most of us are adults, we can or at least should be able to handle a no. It sucks when the other person doesn’t share our enthusiasm for an idea but that happens. With so many stories out there sadly not all of them are going to align. Luckily we’re a big community so the odds that someone out there likes your idea is quite large! Which brings me to the last point 5. Keep an open mind. As said we’re a big community of different people from all over the world. We come from multiple ethnicities, religions and countries, we’re individuals of different sexualities and genders. We all have our own set of ideals and ideas we’d like to see. We’re storytellers and readers, weavers of massive intricate worlds, or people who just like to keep it simple. Our difference is a richness. You might not like every idea but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. Let people be and do their thing.

So that’s it for me. I hope I didn’t cross any lines with this. Thank you for taking the time to read what has been the longest Ani’s rambling ever. Let’s work towards a more healthy and welcoming community. My asks and anons are on.

Love, Ani

[maxdemianfangirl]

So...Lilith

So I did not think my responses would be reblogged by @veiledlight-blog and @ohmourningstar but I want to continue the discussion on Lilith which isn’t a reblog chain but instead a full post.

So, why not use Lilith in your practice?

Because you’re not Jewish. Lilith is Jewish. You are not. Judaism is a closed practice for a reason. You aren’t supposed to use the stuff there if you aren’t Jewish. Maybe I have to explain why it’s closed.

Anti-semitism is a big issue. It’s everywhere all around the globe. Closed practices are closed to keep the practice how it is without being colonized, and Judaism is no exception. The Jewish people are often discriminated against. I could go on a full rant on how.

My Sunday school classmates have found nazi symbols spray painted onto walls near their homes. My Jewish friends have been made fun of for being Jewish. I’ve personally been threatened with violence and possible death for being Jewish. It’s caused a long issue with my self identity and my religious beliefs which I still struggle with now. I have often not wanted to be Jewish because I felt so ashamed and bad about it. I didn’t want a Bat Mitzvah in case others found out because I knew telling my friends might bring up a side of them I had no clue about or letting others who would also harm me know about my Judaism. It worsened my mental health which was already not good. And guess what? I was a kid. Not even thirteen when this all happened. No kid should go through that. No kid should hate who they are and what they believe because of others and their hate.

Judaism at its root is meant to protect its people from those who want to harm those who practice it. The whole book of Exodus was about escaping the Pharaoh who enslaved us and finding a new home. We have countless stories about it (the Prague Golem is an amazing one). We have the Holocaust. We’ve been taught by the world to keep closed to ourselves. Its figures like Lilith are not for those who are not Jewish. 

Now, Lilith has become so popular because her whole concept has been changed from what it once was. Lilith was a high figure, not to be messed with and a literal demon who could and would harm babies and their mothers. Now she’s all succubus queen empowering women. While I am very happy that women, especially young witches, can feel empowered, there’s many, many ladies in other pantheons who are more appropriate for goyim (those who are not Jewish). Honestly, if i were a non-Jewish witch I would love Eve and even as a Jewish witch I still love her. Like your free will? Thank her. Stay away from the lady who was written to eat babies. 

Also, young witches are also a big problem when it comes to this. You're naive. Hell I’m still young I’m definitely still naive. But I’m learning. You should be too, learning what you shouldn’t use in your practice because it’s appropriation. 

And I mentioned before in my responses that some people have deities and entities come to them, not the other way around. I’ve dealt with this situation with another involving Lilith as said deity/entity before. Let’s have a hypothetical situation. You see Loki in your dreams. You’re not a Norse Pagan. He talks to you. When you wake up you feel this connection between you and him. You research. You find out about Norse Paganism and since you feel so connected to one of its deities, you study more of it and eventually become a Norse Pagan. People can get involved in certain religions or practices because of such experiences. Why can’t the same be done with Liltih and Judaism?

Now, Norse Paganism is an open practice. With closed ones it’s different, especially with African and Native American practices. But I say the underlying concepts and ideas still apply in concerns to Judaism. You’re free to join us. If you actually really feel connected to her, then I bet you 9/10 you’ll feel connected to Judaism and its concepts as well and end up converting. It’s a long process and yes, it’ll require a lot of work. But if you really want it you’ll do it. Getting into studying magic in itself is a massive undertaking. If you want it, you can do it. And if you want to become Jewish you can do it if you really want it.

I know many young witches who want to work with Lilith will say “but I’m too young I can’t convert!” Well guess what? If you really want it you can sit down and wait and when you’re 18 you can convert. Study Judaism in the meanwhile. Help out your local Jewish community. Be an ally to us. We’ll greatly appreciate it and it’ll help with the conversion. If it’s too much of a hassle to wait, hopefully you’ll learn you made a mistake as your young naive self and have more wisdom for your practice, because we all make mistakes and we all should learn from them. And definitely still stand with us as an ally against anti-semitism! And if you still work with and worship her after all that without the conversion, then you’re just an approperiating asshole. Why she would want to work with you is beyond me. Even being “against anti-semitism” is a futile effort because clearly no you’re not. 

Also, please do not work with Lilith while you’re converting. Wait till after. You made it so far doing it all right only to ruin it by doing that. Plus by doing so you’re honestly just showing 1) you only converted for Lilith 2) you don’t actually respect the rest of Judaism and 3) Honestly you’re just an asshole trying to cover your tracks.

For any witches who do fully convert or those thinking on it: you can still be a witch and do pagan things as a Jew! Look at me. Look at my mom. Look at @will-o-the-witch. Nobody will judge you for it (you’ll find we’re a very open-minded and accepting community). Even rabbis will be open to it and might give you resources! So don’t be scared. We’ll welcome you.

One big thing, don’t just do nothing when you are officially Jewish. Attend services at a synagogue. Help out at your local JCC. Celebrate the holidays. Don’t just turn Jewish because some kid on Tumblr told you to if you wanted to work with Lilith. If you’re just going to ignore all of it when it’s done, then why even bother? It makes you another asshole just covering their tracks. If this is what you’re gonna do, don’t do it.

Also, please note my whole ramble on conversion is meant for people who genuinely feel a powerful connection to Lilith which should extend to the whole of Judaism. Don’t convert or even consider it if you’re only vaguely interested in her and the religion. Research is fine but active practice is a whole new bucket of worms. You’ll waste your time and everyone else’s time with a conversion if you’re not fully involved and into it. Attend or watch (with the pandemic and that) a service or two and see how you think of it. Research research research as well and decide after you’ve done the two. It’ll likely be a no at the end if you are not genuinely interested. Or you may end up genuinely interested in Judaism by doing those things. Just always make sure you’re 100% confident in your choice for this if you’re going to actually convert. It’s a big move and not one to be taken lightly. 

So, TLDR for the whole conversion thing: you either end up realizing your mistake and growing as a person and witch, you reveal yourself as a true asshole, or you end up in a community you’re happy in. Think hard and long. Question your interest and connections. Don’t not get involved in Jewish things if you do convert.

I didn’t expect this to end up mostly about conversion at the end but oh well. I hope this helps or provides some insight. For any questions please just dm or send me an ask. Any anti-semitism or hate will be ignored because I don’t have time for your shit.

[cherryskyies]

Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, a little angst

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing

Main Masterlist

Summary: You and Fred are best friends. Recently, you pulled a risky prank together that’s bound to come back and bite you in the ass but you two could care less. In potions, you and Fred are partnered together to make Amortentia and both of you refuse to share what you smelt. 

I suck at summaries LmAo

“5 points from Slytherin and Gryffindor. I can’t believe you made me take points away from my own house.” Snape said, disgust evident in his tone. “Both of you, detention. 8pm sharp.” 

You should be embarrassed and sad over house points being taken away but you could care less at the moment. You and Fred had just pulled a prank on a few of the teachers by knocking on all the doors and running before you could get caught. Sure, they'd probably figure out it was you two but who cares.

"Do you think they'll figure out it was us?" Fred asked, done laughing while a smile forms on his lips. 

"Probably, but who cares." You said, giggling quietly. "I hope we don't though. I'm not a fan of serving detention for every teacher."

You felt Fred shudder beside you. "Especially Umbridge." 

Your eyes widened. You completely forgot about Umbridge and how horrible her punishments were. "Don't remind me."

"Don't worry, (Y/N). We won't get caught." Fred reassured, but you could tell he wasn't so sure himself. The prank you two pulled was a reckless one. You were bound to get caught.

You replied with a nervous laugh. 'Yeah, we're definitely fucked.' 

"Looks like we're partners, Freddy." You said, pulling the cauldron forward and taking out your potion book. "Do your best not to explode this in our faces like last time." 

"I would never." He responded, adding a smile as if it was any help. "So, first we add peppermint, right?" He asked, looking from the peppermint to you back to the peppermint. 

"And suddenly I've lost all faith that this won't explode on us." You said, gently placing your hand on his and pushing it down and away from the cauldron. "Put the peppermint away, Weasley." You warned, flashing him a smile that made his heart flutter.

"Yes, love." It slipped out. His face flushed and he wanted nothing more than to disappear but you didn't seem to mind, easing him a bit.

"Okay, can you hand me the stir stick thing please?" You asked, not looking up from the potion under you. It would be a lie if you said him calling you 'love' didn't make your stomach burst into a frenzy of butterflies. 'Calm down (Y/N)'

He handed you the stirring stick and watched as you carefully stirred it 3 times clockwise and 4 times counterclockwise. "We did it!" You exclaimed, bringing Fred out of his trance. Your excited eyes met his, "We did it." 

You handed him the potions to smell first. Books, rosemary, and a hint of lavender is what he smelt. It was you. Though, he already knew what to expect from the amortentia. He's been in love with you since 1st year.

He handed it back to you, his face pink. "Your turn."

"Well, what did you smell Fred?" You asked, slightly hoping it was you. But, you knew better than to think he'd ever like you back.

His face turned an even darker shade of pink. "None of your business! Now, you smell it and if you tell me what you smell I might tell you what I did."

You grumbled, sitting back into your chair with a pout and mumbling a quiet "Fine."

Firewood, mint, and candy invaded your senses. 'Fred' you thought. You knew it was going to be him. 

Quickly, you sat the potion down. Refusing to make eye contact with the ginger next to you. "Fair game Weasley. You win because I'm not telling you mine either." You said, bottling the potion so you could turn it into the professor. 

He pouted. He really wanted to know what you smelt. Perhaps it was him? 'Oh god what if it was George? Or Draco!?' He had to stop himself or he'd list a million people. 

"Tell me at least one? I'll tell you one in return!" He begged. Yes, begged. Fred was desperate to know. 

You rolled your eyes, it didn't seem like too bad of an idea. "Fine. One thing I smelt was candy." You said, sighing. "Your turn."

"One thing I smelt was rosemary." He said, trying to act confident. "What's another one you smelt? I'll go first this time!" 

You nodded. What's the worst that could happen? 

"The second thing I smelt was Lavender." He said quietly. His confident act was breaking and he started to wonder why he thought this was a good idea.

"Mine was firewood. That's the last one I'm sharing though." You said. If he were to keep asking he'd definitely find out it was him and you were not ready for him to know.

"Rude."

"Anyway, you want to go to dinner now?" You asked, noticing it was almost time for dinner to start.

He nodded, "Yes ma'am."

You two had to separate ways once you reached the Great Hall. Fred left for the Gryffindor table and you left for the Slytherin one.

Most of the Slytherins didn't mind you, but they also didn't befriend you.

"Hey, (Y/N)." You heard a student from behind you say.

You turned around and saw a Hufflepuff standing confidently. "Hello?" You asked, not trying to sound rude.

"I'm Cedric! A Hufflepuff as you can see." He said, motioning towards his robes. "I came over to ask if you wanted to go on a date later?"

'How do I nicely reject him?' 

Fred, overhearing the conversation between you and the Hufflepuff, snapped his head in your direction eager to hear your answer. 'Please say no, please say no.' He thought, over and over.

"I um, you seem like a really nice guy Cedric, but I'm interested in someone else at the moment. I'm really sorry." You said, feeling extremely bad. Saying yes would only be leading him on and you didn't want to do that.

"It's fine. Thank you for being nice about it and not embarrassing me or anything." He said before walking back to his house table.

Meanwhile, Fred was relieved. He still had a chance with you. 

Dinner was over and everyone was leaving to their room or their friends room. 

"(Y/N)!" You heard a familiar voice yell.

"Fred!" You yelled back. 

"What did that Hufflepuff want earlier?" He asked. He already knew the answer but he didn't want you to know he was listening in on your conversation. 

You shrugged, "He asked me on a date. I said no though, he seems like a nice guy and all but I'm interested in someone else."

"Who's the other guy?" Fred asked, poking your shoulder and raising his eyebrows at you.

"None of your business Weasley. That's who." 

"Sure, we both know I'll find out eventually. " 

"I hope not." You mumbled underneath your breath.

"What was that?" He said, teasing you.

"Nothing!" You exclaimed. You didn't expect him to hear you. 

"Fred Weasley, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Come with me." It was Umbridge who spoke, making your blood run cold.

"Yes ma'am." You and Fred said at the same time, giving each other the 'this is not good' look.

She opened her door, revealing a decent sized office with a pink rug and two chairs in front of a wooden desk.

"I know it was you two who pulled the pranks earlier. "

You froze, when you got in trouble with Umbridge the punishment was by far the worst.

"It was just me who pulled all of the pranks." You said quickly, ignoring the wide eye look Fred gave you.

Umbridge leaned back in her chair looking unimpressed. "Really? Then why was Mr. Weasley here late to class with you?"

'Quick (Y/N), think!' 

"He slept in today and saw me walking back to potions so he joined me. He had no part in the pranks." You replied, looking her dead in the eyes.

"Is this true, Weasley?" 

'Don't mess this up Fred.'

After a moment of silence, he nodded. "Yes, I slept in this morning and when I was on my way to potions I saw her walking there and joined her." 

Umbridge nodded, "Very well. You may leave Weasley. (Y/L/N), stay here." 

Once Fred left she handed you a quill. The same quill you had heard the horror stories about. "Write 'I will not pull pranks'."

She did not specify how many times, instead she ushered me to start and worked on school papers.

The pain was horrible. I wrote it 113 times. The words 'I will not pull pranks' was carved into my skin 113 times. The only reason she dismissed me is because blood was close to falling on her pink rug.

"You may leave now. Do not get any of your dirty blood on my rug either." She said, not looking up from her work.

"Yes ma'am." I barely whispered, clutching my hand to my chest.

I left her room, blood getting on my clothes. I knew I couldn't go to the Slytherin dorm because we had nothing to wrap and clean my hand with. My only option was to find Harmione and hopefully get her to help.

The walk to the Gryffindor rooms felt like walking a marathon. I lost a lot of blood and was starting to get hot and sweaty. 

"Fairy lights. " You whispered the password so no one else would hear you. You spent more time in the Gryffindor house than you did in the Slytherin so of course you had the password.

"Harmione!" You said, catching her attention. She was sitting on the common room couch, studying, per usual. "Do you think you could help me?" You asked, showing her your hand and arm covered in bloody words.

She gasped, "Merlin! What happened to you (Y/N)!?" She yelled, attracting more attention than you wanted. She was examining your arm when you heard another gasp.

This time, it was Fred. "This was Umbridge, wasn't it?" He asked, mad at himself for letting you take the blame and mad at Umbridge for hurting you.

You nodded, ashamed he was seeing you in such a state. 

"I knew I shouldn't have let you take the blame. This is all my fault." He cried, pulling you from Hermione gently. "I can take care of her, Harmione." 

Harmione nodded, understanding what was happening and left to give the two some privacy. 

"I'm so so sorry (Y/N)." He said, continuing to cry with you in his arms.

"Hey, hey It's not your fault, Fred. I knowingly put myself in this position so I could save you." You said, pulling away from him and meeting his eyes. "It doesn't hurt too bad anymore anyway." You said, smiling as you placed your thumb on Fred's cheek.

He looked into your eyes for a moment, searching them. For what? You weren't sure. That is until he kissed you.

He placed his lips on your softly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn't, he went ahead and deepened the kiss, placing his hands firmly on your waist as you placed your arms around his neck.

You were the first to pull away. Your lungs were screaming for oxygen and you were sure Fred's were as well.

"It was you I smelt in my Amortentia." Fred mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. 

You laughed. "I smelt you in mine too."

Nothing could be better than this moment.

[irninfidel]

his spot in life is entirely conditional. he has known this ever since the game started, when everyone found out he’s a mutant. oh, most of them had the decency to pretend nothing had changed, but he noticed. they watched their words, and not in the way he thought they should. and before that, even--he always wanted to do things for himself. it only took a few tries for him to learn that he should never ask to do something himself unless he can do it perfectly the first time. screw up once, and you lose the privilege to try again.

getting to try things is a privilege. he realizes that after the fifth time he doesn’t kill an enemy, right before the sixth time that he tries again. getting to say “actually, I was fine with being a pacifist” after the seventh time is a privilege. bleeding is a privilege. he’s lucky, and he thinks about that every day. there are so many people that never had the chance to change, but he did.

the bitterness never really goes away, though.

because the world’s ended, hasn’t it? the universe doesn’t exist anymore. he spent his entire life locked in a beautiful home, protected from the awful, scary world, and now he doesn’t even get to experience that world, never mind try to fix it. but he does it anyway.

the bitter part of him ( most of him, really--he runs on spite more than anything else ) burns through him when he thinks about how none of them truly understand. sometimes, he wants to ask if they realize that their lives were conditional, too. only one of them wasn’t at risk of being given to some higher blood color if their abilities changed ( sprouting wings, losing a sense, sparking too brightly -- but he would never hold their own escape against them ), and that’s only because no one higher than her existed.

but of course they’d never realized that. he finds that most people don’t fear losing what they’ve had when they’ve always had it. his heart pounds when someone helps him ( less so when they ask, but no one ever does ), but I’m not trying to coddle you, Kankri, stop overreacting.

he’s never agreed with the “better to have loved and lost,” maybe because he spends more time thinking about what he has to lose than what he’s gained. getting to try is a privilege. getting to be is a privilege.

mituna taps out. everyone shifts. I would never put up with being culled, someone says, as if it were kankri’s fault, as if he were just too weak to speak up and say that he doesn’t deserve this, that he can do things for himself. well, mituna said the same thing, didn’t he? and look at him now.

having something to lose is a privilege, too.

[strawberrylemonz]

Accepted Invitation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

DT: @bargledblocks my beloved <3 and @snapdragonfirefly my beloved <3

“Chat, stop being dickheads.”

Kristin shook her head as she narrowed her eyes at Phil, who smiled at her.

“He gets that from you.”

“What? Never! He must have learned it from someone else!”

As the two playfully bickered, accusing each other of starting Tommy’s cursing habit, they failed to notice the guilty look that covered the twin’s expression. Ghostbur, not being able to read the atmosphere or situation, whispered in a loud manner.

“Heeeeeey, didn’t we teach him how to curse.”

“You two did what?”

“Nothing! Let’s move on!”

Tommy hummed as he happily navigated through the unfamiliar Portal Hub. He had heard stories of what it was like from his father and brothers, so he was more than excited to finally navigate through it himself. Look at him go! TommyInnit, the most badass adventurer around! He would be so cool, just like his family!

“What is he doing on the main server? Why is he walking around the Portal Hub?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter?”

“Of course it does-!”

“Does not.”

Just as he was about to enter a different section of the Portal Hub, the sound of a small peep caught his attention. Turning around with a smile, he held out his hand as he caught a baby chick, gently petting it with his finger. 

“Hello, little guy. New god?”

“Yes, little chick, I am!”

“Did Clara and Mother lead you my way?”

“They did! They couldn’t help but say good things about you, so I just had to come and see you for myself! I hope I’m not going to stay this small forever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get bigger the longer you stick around with me. Mother and Clara are already fully grown chickens, but there’s other deities who are still puffy chicks, like you.”

“Wonderful! Can I stay on your person?”

“Sure, why not? Here, just stay there.”

“Thank you, young chick.”

“Not a problem!”

“I’m sorry, gods?”

“Are you telling me that Tommy’s just as crazy as his family? I mean, come on, Chat? Voices? Obvious red flag-”

“That’s not very nice, Dream.”

Dream frowned and tried to cover his ears, doing his best to block out Ghostbur. Techno and Wilbur just sat in silence, watching the form of their brother as he happily interacted with his voices, with his chat. He seemed so much more in control than they ever were at his age. Overall, they were just shocked that he even had a chat, and they didn’t know. Watching the interaction, Ranboo voiced his observation.

“Hey, Tommy kinda has what Phil does.”

“What do you mean, Boo?”

“Phil has a bunch of crows that follow him around, Tommy has baby chicks. Kinda funny, if you ask me.”

Tommy smiled as he tucked the chick into his shirt pocket, happy to see the little fella content. Peering into his satchel, he smiled as he nodded to a small group of chicks huddled in there, peering up at him. Their peeps comforted him as he entered the new area, clutching the straps of both his backpack and satchel tightly in his grip. Mumbling as he studied the different portals, he couldn’t help but snort as familiar clucking caught his attention. Turning around, he waved as a clucking chicken ran to him, flapping into his arms.

“Hello, Mother.”

Quackity snorted, only to quickly move to cover his mouth. Kristin raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him, curiosity painting her face. Nervous laughter erupted from the man’s throat as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to explain.

“It’s just, seeing him call a chicken mother was kind of funny.”

Kristin laughed as she nodded in agreement, she and Clara sharing knowing looks.

“It is funny, yeah.”

The chicken clucked as she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in. Waiting as he held her close, he smiled as a red aura came off the chicken, forming a mass in front of him. Floating there, arms crossed, was Kristin. Humming as she looked around the area, she spoke up in a confident manner.

“Joining your Chat was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Now I just need to track down your brothers and join their Chats, talk some sense into them during my free time.”

“Good to see you too, Mum.”

Kristin chuckled as she shook her head. Pressing her lips together, she gave her youngest son a pointed look.

“Now, Tommy, why are you here? You should be at home, with the others. The Hub is a big and unpredictable place, no nine year old should be wandering around here unsupervised.”

“But I’m not unsupervised, you’re here!”

Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head as she sharpened her look, making the child avoid her gaze.

“I mean by someone who is physically there to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mum, I’m a Big Man!”

“I don’t doubt you are, but you still shouldn’t be here on your own. Here, let’s get you back to your father and brothers-”

“No!”

“Yelling at his mother, how rude!”

Niki shook her head in distaste as Jack nodded in agreement.

“She must have the will of thousands to deal with someone like Tommy.”

Kristin frowned at the statements being made behind her. It hurt her that the people her son admired and looked to spoke ill of him behind his back. What hurt her the most, however, was the lack of defense from her husband or sons. Instead, the defense came from someone else.

“Hey, leave the kid alone! Look at him, he’s just a child!”

“Quackity is right, Tommy’s nine here. Besides, if Kristin see’s something wrong with his tone, I’m sure she’d put him back in line.”

A satisfied hum came from Kristin as she smiled at Quackity and Ranboo, glad to see that some people had some sense in themselves.

Kristin frowned as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head towards her youngest son. Tommy peered down at the chicken in his arms, ashamed. Sighing, he nodded as he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just- I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being alone.”

The group watched as tears welled up in the child’s eye. They all felt a pinch of pain and hurt in their chests, frowning at how Tommy was feeling. Watching as he wiped his tears away with the chicken, they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“What do you mean by alone? I’m sure that if you just ask your brothers if you can join in sparring-”

“They left.”

“...What? What do you mean they left? What about your father? What did he say about this?”

“He left too. They all left me alone in the cottage. Something about being invited to a new server? They sent letters back home for me to read, but they stopped coming in two months ago. Dad and Techno started a nation, I think. The Antarctic Empire, or something. Wilbur started his own, but I think he’s allied with them? It got confusing after a while.”

“L’manburg wasn’t Wilbur’s first country?”

“Forget that, the anarchists started a country?!”

“Letters stopped two months ago? When did they leave you behind?”

“Um, I’m not sure? They left November twenty-second.”

“Wha- Tommy, it’s July fourth! They’ve been gone for almost seven months!

“Wow, really? It’s been that long? Huh, would you look at that! I’m a master survivor!”

“Ow!”

“I still don’t forgive you for that! How could you leave our son behind like that?! For seven months?!”

“Kristin-”

“Don’t, we’ll talk about this later.”

“And you’ve been alone all along? What about our sweet neighbors? Aren’t you best friends with that boy your age?”

“Tubbo went with his dad on a trip a few months back.”

“Schlatt took him on a trip? Huh, weird. And what about Lani?”

“What’s so surprising about that? I can be a loving and cool father, right Tubbo? Lani?”

The two siblings avoided the ram’s gaze, mumbling excuses so they did not need to reply.

“Adopted dad took her on a different trip after she got upset that Schlatt left her behind.”

“Well, count on Jordan to cheer his daughter up.”

“The Captain is cool like that, Mum.”

“You bet he is! Man, I need to go on a trip with him again. He’d love to meet Michael!”

“Knowing dad, he’s gonna freak after seeing that his only son is married and has a child.”

“I think you’re wrong, Lani, dad will be fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, where are you going, Tommy? Joining them on this new server?”

“I was, but I decided not to.”

“And why not?”

“I was invited to a different server! See?”

Kristin watched as Tommy reopened his satchel, greeting the chicks who napped inside. Carefully pulling out an envelope, he smiled as he pulled out the card. Presenting it to his mother with pride, Tommy giggled with glee as she read the name of the server.

“Dream SMP?”

“Yup! Started back in April, I think? I got the invite a month back, and I’ve been preparing to leave ever since! Isn’t that cool? Someone thinks I’m cool enough to join a server!”

Kristin studied the face of her son, watching as he happily rambled about his plans for the new server. He didn’t fool her, he never could. She knew that despite his excitement, he was lonely and scared. He didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not going to make me go back to the cottage, are you?”

“You know what? I’ll follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely, my ray of sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Pure love and happiness filled everyone as Tommy held the chicken close to himself, ignoring the strange looks people gave him as he mumbled his thanks.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“As do I for him. If I could live every day outside of my realm, I’d be by my family’s side every day.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now, let’s see this Dream SMP, okay?”

“M’kay!”

-

“You guys left Tommy all by himself when he was nine? Kinda wack, ngl.”

“Did you just verbally abbreviate “not going to lie” in real life?”

“That’s not the point, Sapnap.”

“I know, but still.”

Wilbur refused to speak or look at anyone. He didn’t know why the train brought him and the others here, but he knew that being sat with his family made him uncomfortable. Technoblade just sat beside his twin, messing with his hands as he silently thought things over. Peering at his parents and brother, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been unfair towards his youngest brother. He didn’t regret doing what he did to L’manburg, the country deserved it. He didn’t regret a thing, no matter what Tommy said or did. He didn’t even know why the voices and his own consciousness felt uneasy by this all, nothing bad hadn’t even occurred yet! It was definitely uncomfortable to feel what Tommy was feeling during these events, but that was the only thing that truly explained his uneasiness.

He watched as his mother whispered to his father, her stare firm and strong. The ex-citizens of L’manburg all conversed with one another, sharing their observations so far. They all shared the same question, he knew this, but only one was brave enough to ask it. Watching as Drista made her way from Lani to Kristin, Techno watched with amusement.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Minecraft? Where is Tommy?”

“Oh, simple! None of us wanted him to revisit all these moments that may be uncomfortable for him, so he’s somewhere safe.”

Before anyone else could ask anything else, they were suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and joy. Turning around they watched as Tommy spawned into a new server, his mother’s chicken in his arms. Petting her head as he looked around, Tommy addressed his small following of chicks and chickens.

“Boys! Welcome to the Dream SMP!”

[air-in-words]

My Sorting Hat Chats Journey

So, hi! I'm back!

I've been doing fun stuff off in the real world, but I decided to talk a little bit about my own Sorting Hat Chats sorting journey, and how it says a lot about self-acceptance, and how understanding who you really are can sometimes only come from being an active participant in life. Here we goooo...

The Beginning

So, my initial sorting was a Burnt Badger/Bird. This had struck me, because I'd never considered myself a Badger in ANY media. I was seen by my friends as a borderline loner, someone who didn't need anyone else. And yet, all the signs were there.

Looking back on my life, I've always migrated in groups, always looked for a nesting ground, and truly that's all I want. A place to nest, a place to rest, where I can feel safe and surrounded by people who love me. But, after a childhood filled with bullying, I found myself embarrassed of my bold face need for friends, and, for some reason, decided getting too close to people for too long was unwise, so I could probably never have a permanent home. And yet, I always found myself in these little "groups," little packs of people that all travel together.

I've always had these friend groups, where everyone knows each other, we all hang out together, and yet it always manages to eventually fall apart. I asked one of my friends how this keeps happening, and who keeps setting up these groups. She blinked sort of vaguely and said, "uh, you do." It was such a strange realization to look back and see myself as the "shepherd" I was, always creating a flock wherever I went. I had always been the spoke of my friend wheels, the only one that was friends with everyone, or actively tried to be friends with everyone. And I would attempt to hold it together, but it would always ultimately shatter, and I'd leave to find and form another. Family is important to me, and it isn't enough for me to bond with one person. I like for all my friends to be friends with each other, for us all to hang out together and enjoy each other's company.

So, although I still struggle, Burnt Badger came out on top, and I believe is still at the top to this day. I still search for belonging. I still search for family. And, yet, my heart seems to have no intention of unburning. Until recently, I had no idea why.

On the other hand, the secondary I received, Bird, seemed to fit like a glove, and was very obvious to me. I've been called the Encyclopedia before, I was made fun of for being caught reading the dictionary like it was a book, and I always seem to have a "fun fact" for every occasion. And all of this seemed to flow directly into me trying to use these facts and this knowledge to win people over, to get to see me as someone that could be their friend, or that I could be reliable as a member of their "group." So, Burnt Badger/Bird simply made sense. The reasons for me avoiding unburning my primary were irrelevant.

The Now

I'd been gone from this side of Tumblr for a bit, and decided to return on a whim. Saw @wisteria-lodge still posting as much as ever, and saw a lot of my posts had been passed around in the meantime (thank ya by the way) and decided to dive back in, because since then, so much of my life has changed. I've had certain people out of my life for a while that were a hindrance on my self-acceptance, I've moved out of my childhood home, and left a job I've had for the past 5 years. I've been forced to constantly LIVE, to make choices, actual choices, and have been offered the chance to be who I truly am, unapologetically.

So, I took the quiz again, curious if I would come up any different.

I got Burnt Badger/Burnt Snake.

This time, I was almost insulted. A flush of memories, of past feelings came to me, most of all the need to push back, to insist in exasperation I'M NOT A LIAR, as though I was tired of defending myself. As hard as I tried, I somehow couldn't seem to get Bird secondary to reappear.... at all. Which was so crazy, because before, that was pretty much all I could get.

So, I went to the experts, the aforementioned wisteria-lodge and @sortinghatchats .

I looked through the Snake secondary tags and found myself lost in memories I had pushed down, so far down even I couldn't find them, wracked with shame and a need to hide this side of myself, something I'd hidden so well I'd pretty much convinced myself it had never existed.

Being a Bird had always been a choice for me. I decided that was what people must want, becoming intelligent, knowing all of these things, showing off, that would make people like me. But, although I can devour books like nobody's business, and I tend to worry and whinge before every major decision, feeling unprepared, I would always find myself falling short of my own expectations. The amount of times I'd promised myself and others to create a plan and study hard, ultimately fail to do so, and then lie to everyone about it was astounding. My public image continued to be "air-in-words the smart girl" but my private image was still LIAR and FAKE.

I would still somehow get all A's. I was very good at remembering facts and excellent at taking tests. I always thought of them like little tricks themselves, meant to trip you up, but if you paid attention, you could figure out the patterns and be able to bluster your way through stuff you might not even fully understand. You can figure out certain words through context clues, and I was always very comfortable trusting my memory with little preparation beforehand. And yet, I still lied and told everyone I'd studied, at least as a child, before high school.

Math was what eventually messed me up, and sent my self-image whirling into the ground. My grades suddenly went from straight A's to D's and F's. My parents were aghast, what had happened??? I was so intelligent, so smart, such a good student. What had gone wrong?? And, although I never admitted it outloud to them, I knew the answer. With math, you can't trick your way out. You either know how to do it and give the right answer, or you don't. And I had never studied a day in my life, never practiced, never worked hard at all. It was my horrible little secret and math had outed me. It continues to out me, because rather than actually work at it and get better, I managed to keep my grades through high school afloat by leaning on my other grades and taking remedial math courses with a teacher who loved me very much and would let me off easy. To this day, honestly, I can barely count. I might actually have some form of dyscalculia, but I know that if I were willing to try a little harder I could get better. But, why would I do that, when this way works just fine? Just coasting through? But, again, no one could know. Not even myself.

Through high school, I began letting people in on my secret Snake, because being a "slacker" was suddenly cool. I still couldn't let my parents know, or the teachers, but coming clean about not being a keener was what earned me new friend groups. I wasn't some weirdo who actually studied all the time: I was a kid who maybe did 60-70% of my homework and slid by on my good memory and general interest in learning. And my reputation. My reputation was key to my success.

College would be the thing that completely threw me to the ground. There were simply too many sirens singing at me, distractions pulling me away from my work. I'd never looked less like a Bird than in college. I was always skipping class, always not studying, and in fact, would openly fail most of my courses. And I just didn't seem to care. I slid into what I guess must have been a sort of neutral zone, but I wasn't happy. The mask was slipping off and I needed out. I couldn't keep up this charade anymore. It was stifling, trying to be a Bird, going to college for a very Bird degree, surrounded by actual Birds, it was all very much what I didn't want. I wanted something less "academic," less, well, boring. Maybe more Snake like.

And, so, here we are. Currently dropped out of college, living in an apartment with my friend, away from my parents' prying eyes, and with a new job that I chose for myself. On the brink of finally understanding myself, and maybe accepting myself as I am.

My Badger primary is burned because of my Snake secondary. Because I thought I was a sham, a liar, a con, and I didn't feel like I deserved to have people close to me. Those traits are bad, and I was a bad person. No one should be tricked by me.

But, after reading some of the stories from the experts and other Snake secondaries, I found this crazy thought, that perhaps being this way isn't a bad thing. Maybe I'm not a bad person. Maybe it's okay to be who I am. Maybe I can use these "powers" for good, and they aren't inherently evil.

So, at least for now, I'm choosing to identify as Burnt Badger/Burnt Snake with Bird Model. Seeing how it feels to accept myself and not try and force myself to be who I think I should be, or who others want me to be (which is a Snake secondary thing in the first place. Lol!)

For Fun, Here's Some Crazy Actual Snake Secondary Things I've Done That I'm Trying to Be Less Ashamed of Now

When I was little, I used to make up crazy stories about things I'd done to seem more interesting. The one that makes me cringe the most is that my uncle has a statue in his backyard that comes to life and goes on adventures with me. My uncle DID have a statue in his backyard that I really loved but no, it didn't (and still hasn't) come to life.

Some of these, I can't explain, like this one, where I somehow had more than one teacher convinced I'd handed in every piece of homework before the one I was giving them the sob story about that day. I literally had a teacher look me in the face, tell me I'd been handing in my homework really well thus far and knew I was trustworthy, so they'd let me slide with no mark against me. Meanwhile, I had missed the homework for the past THREE WEEKS IN A ROW. I just smiled and let it go. Variations of this situation happened throughout high school and college. And, no, I had no good reason not to do the homework. I just didn't want to do it. Lol.

I usually live in the "neutral state" around my close friends, since I think it's disrespectful not to be straight with them, but I have had to turn it on to help them occasionally. One of my friends was having issues with an ex of hers, she was thinking that maybe she should go back out with the guh, and I had been my blunt, neutral self the whole time, telling her flat out that that was a bad idea. But, it wasn't working. "Neutral state" isn't like a Lion's forceful natural state, I guess. So, I decided I would have to push her in a certain direction to help her get through it. I told her she should go back out with him, and although she did sort of call me out for lying, knowing I didn't actually want that, I told her she should if she really think she should. The dude didn't last one date without showing his ass again, and she thanked me for making her do that. Lol.

Finally, at least for this list, my most prized shameful memory, is when I was taking an acting class in college. We were supposed to create a wordless scene as our final, and I hadn't prepared anything, so I just skipped the day we were supposed to do them. But, I decided to show up for the last day to see if I could still somehow pass. She's going through the grades, and looks up and asks me, "I don't have anything written down for you, I can't remember, did you give a performance or not?" I knew I hadn't then, but decided to give one now. I told her yes I had done one, don't you remember came up with a name on the fly. The same friend from the last story was staring at me like she was about to burst. She thought for a moment, then exclaimed, "ah, of course! Yes, I think I remember. I remember you'd done pretty well. What grade did I give you?" I hedged my bets and said A-. Lol. I had never been filled with more pride shame in my life.

[got-svt]

all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever. 

❥• one: the childhood best friend 

he’s the one you grew up next to, who lived in the house directly in front of yours. the one you’ll forever associate with popsicles on the sidewalk, bike rides at dawn, seesaws and swings at sunset. and you wish you could trap yourself within the memories, to never escape the hold of childhood innocence. but, just like everyone else, both of you eventually had to grow up. 

pairing: lee chan x reader genre: fluff, angst, childhood friends to ??? word count: 2062

→  it honestly seemed like you and him were meant to be friends: both your parents attended the same university, worked at buildings a few streets away from the other’s, and eventually ended up living in the same neighbourhood — buying houses directly in front of each other. you met chan at the ripe old age of eight months, when they decided that both of you were old enough for a little play date. sure, you mostly communicated in unintelligible babbles and spent the afternoon throwing plastic toys and stuffed animals at the other — you having to go home a crying mess — but your parents remained optimistic that you would eventually become good friends.

→  and they were right — of course they were. this had been their plan from the very beginning. you began to grow closer when both of you were old enough to understand that throwing toys at other kids was wrong and your communication skills evolved from babbles to simple sentences. alternating afternoons were spent at the other’s place, playing house, cooking fake food, tag in the backyard, blowing bubbles in the garden. looking back at it now, friendships were so much simpler. you never had to worry if they truly liked you or wanted to spend time with you, as long as you could laugh and play around, all was well.  

→  you and chan learned how to ride a bike together. your parents were there to guide you both along, but it was mostly both of you teaching yourselves. was it a good idea to have two eight year olds learning by themselves? probably not, but it introduced you to the basics of independence and meant that you spent a lot of your time with chan. he was the first one to have the training wheels removed, much to your dismay and his elation. 

“hah, yn, you’re still a baby who needs training wheels.” chan teased, pointing a finger at you with a smile.  

you could only huff and pout, gripping onto the handles of your bike until your knuckles turned white. that night, you asked your parents to remove the training wheels of your bike, determined to prove to chan that you were, in fact, not a baby. 

the following afternoon had him eating his words, not because you were blazing down the street, but because you fell off your bike. chan almost fainted at the scrape that marked your arm. it was small and had little to no bleeding, but that didn’t stop him from rushing to his mother with tears brimming his eyes, demanding that you be treated. even though you repeatedly told him you were fine, chan spent the next few days following you around.  

→  the following year had you asking your parents what it meant to love someone. 

your parents’ eyes widen at your inquiry. “what do you mean yn?” your father asked, tilting his head to the side at your inquiry. 

“you always tell me you love me, and i tell you i love you back. but how do you know you love someone?” you clarified with a pout, looking down at your feet as if you were ashamed of your question. 

your parents shared a fond smile at the genuineness of your question, though it faltered slightly at the thought of you only saying it back because you were taught to — not out of sincerity. regardless, they tried their best to explain. “loving someone means you care for them, not wanting them to be hurt or sick. you want to be around them, you think about them even when you don’t mean to. you’re happy when you spend time with them. things like that.”  

you nod, taking into account their words and how you’ve been feeling yourself. the next day, you sat on the curb with chan. the summer sun threatening to melt the popsicles both of you were intent on eating. it was rather quiet, nothing but the birds’ melodious singing and cars passing by. up until you blurted out, “i love you.”    

chan blinked back at you, it had been the first time someone outside his family had told him that. you panicked at his non-response, explaining quickly what your parents told you, “loving someone means you don’t want that person hurt and you’re happy when you spend time with them.” 

chan nodded, processing your words, “hmm. then i love you too.” 

→  saying i love you became a normal thing for you and chan. your parents found it adorable, the way it became a hello and a goodbye. with all the time you spent together, it was expected that both of you form some sort of attachment to the other.  

you sat on a swing in the playground five minutes away from your homes, chan stood behind you, gently pushing you forward every now and then. the sun was setting, turning a sky into a mixture of orange, yellow, and purple. “do you think we’ll be friends forever?” you ask, voice soft and tender as you felt his hands lightly on your back. 

“yes. we will.” chan answered without a moment’s hesitation, eyes still staring straight ahead into the horizon.  

“how do you know?” you asked, still unsure. you were to start middle school the next day. it was at a much bigger place than your elementary or kindergarten. at age eleven, both of you knew things were bound to change. you knew were going to meet more people, possibly be placed in different classes, join various clubs and organizations. 

chan moved to stand in front of you, the swing slowing down to a gentle halt. “because i promise we’ll stay friends.” 

you hold your pinky up towards him, a smile playing on your features, “promise?” 

he intertwined his pinky with yours, chuckling as he shook his head at your slight nervousness, “promise, yn.” 

“okay. love you.”

“i love you too.” 

→  but of course, promises aren’t always kept. even though both of you tried your hardest to do so. 

→  you and chan were inseparable throughout your kindergarten and elementary school days. despite meeting several other kids that were in the same age range, you still opted to be attached at the hip. eating lunch or snacks, playing, studying together. slowly, but surely, all of that changed when you entered middle school. 

→  it started with being placed in different classes, with different free periods. you had made friends with the students that sat around you, all of them bright and bubbly — eager to make new friends. you were slightly overwhelmed at the onslaught of new people, but you grew to like it, accepting their invitations to hang out after classes. chan had also found new friends of his own. kids he met when he signed up for the dance club, all of them just as passionate as he was. you were both happy for the other’s expansion of social circles, never failing to send a giant smile and an excited wave when you bumped into each other in the halls.   

→  chan walked with you to school in the morning and always met up with you for lunch, exchanging stories of his afternoons at dance classes and yours spent swimming at the town rec center with your newfound friends. you both still said your i love yous with a smile before you headed into your next classes, but as the months passed, they became more and more rushed, eventually more mumbled, to barely saying it at all. 

→  you would eventually join your middle school swim team, and chan never missed a single one of your games, just as you didn’t miss a single one of his recitals. always the loudest to cheer the other on, the first to congratulate and celebrate a victory, or pick up in a loss. but with the addition of new clubs in your schedules, it meant lesser and lesser time to spend with the other. hanging out together turned a daily activity into a weekly one. neither of you minded, you were happy and occupied, that didn’t mean you were no longer friends. right? so you pushed that concern to the back of your minds.  

→  high school rolled around more quickly than either of you could ever imagine. chan was now in the school dance team and you were in the varsity swimming team. back in middle school, you both managed to meet up at least once a week, now you were lucky to even spend a full day together once a month.  

you sat in chan’s room, watching him as he struggle to get past a level of a video game another friend of his had lent him. truth be told, you couldn’t recall exactly what that game was. was it a platformer, racing, fighting? you never really listened when he rambled on about. you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, something had changed, you just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was exactly. “hey chan.” 

“yeah, yn?” he didn’t take his eyes off the screen, “is something wrong?”

“no, um—” you were grateful that some of his attention was elsewhere, “we’re still friends, right?” 

chan paused his game so he could turn to look at you, “of course we are. why are you asking?” 

you wanted to believe him, so you nodded before shaking your head in slight embarrassment, “right. i’m sorry, i guess i’m just thinking about how we’d known each other for sixteen years now.” 

chan knew better that to think that was all there was to your question, but he couldn’t find it in himself to delve further or to ask more questions. instead, he gave you a small smile, his mind going back to that summer afternoon eating popsicles on the sidewalk. “i love you.” 

you offer him a weak smile back, your own memories taking you back to watching the sunset on the swings, “i love you too.” 

→  little did either of you know that would be the last time you would say those words to the other. as the months dragged on, you and chan only became busier, with academics, extracurriculars. communication became far and few in between, you didn’t mean it of course. you were tired from swimming laps, he was exhausted from practice. you had homework that you’d been putting off, his friends decided to surprise him. it just slipped both of your minds.   

“i’m free on saturday, how about you?” 

 “can’t, f/n is coming over. how about sunday?” 

“ i have a competition, you’ll cheer me on right?” 

“ i have a swim meet that day too…” 

“tuesday then?” 

“i have a huge test on wednesday. i have to study. ” 

conversations like these soon became the norm for you and chan, not that either of you wanted it to be. it just happened without either of you noticing. you both slowly stopped inviting the other to hang out after class, to watch a swim meet or a recital, thinking that the other might be too busy to even attend. in neither of you wanting to bother the other, you eventually drifted further and further away from the other. 

→  there was no dramatic falling out, no big fight that ended in tears, not even a single screaming match. things simply happened without either of you realizing what was going on. you still waved at each other in the halls, but he stopped walking with you to and from school. you still talked to each other when both of your families occasionally had dinner together, but it felt formal and impersonal — filled with more awkward silences than comfortable ones. both of you always felt the need to fill up the space, but it somehow only made it worse. you still said your goodbyes with a hug and a smile, but there was no longer an “i love you” that followed.  

❥•   but it was with chan you learned that growing up could also mean growing apart. and though both of you know you could’ve done better, you accept that it couldn’t be helped. besides, you’ll always have the memories of learning to ride a bike, playing tag in the backyard, swings at sunset, and that very first i love you. memories both you and chan will look back on with a wistful smile when you long for the days of your youth, and that was more than enough.

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next  ➤  yoon jeonghan, the academic rival