#the imposter syndrome must be crazy for him think about how good that would be to write

[bisexual-birdy]

am i just going to have to read the manga to get the loid forger angst i need in my life

[noemilivv]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a romantic Hazbin Match up!

Just call me Olivia.

Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Straight

Style: My style ranges depending on my mood but it consistantly falls into three categories of dresses (Usually knee length with a fit and flare waist), comfy (Sweaters and comforters), and sexy (Think corsets and bustiers.). I like wearing make-up and styling my hair into cute styles (Sadly I suck at braiding.) Shoes… honestly I think I like all shoes except crocks. I love Nail art too!

Hobbies/Interest: Drawing, singing, gaming, reading and shopping. I like trying out new things from activities and foods. Favorite subjects are history, mythology, and computer science, and I like building furniture when I have a guide.

Book genres: Romance, Fantasy, Historical, and Mystery

Personality:

I'm called a social butterfly by everyone I know. I've also been told I have a tendency to adopt introverts into my circle and care for them. No joke, I've been invited to place because I'm willing to talk to strangers and not shy away from conversation. I've been told that I'm very entertaining to be around because I'm very bubbly and animated in my interactions because I like making people happy.

Jokes on everyone because internally I'm very shy and a nervous wreck, I just know how to hide it well. I definitely can suffer from feeling inadequet and have imposter syndrome XD Honestly to quote my favorite character: I'm an insecure, neurotic control freak… on crack. I can also be materialistic and pouty.

I'm very protective over my loved ones, think "Hurt them, I hurt you and no one will find the body." I tend to hover over loved ones if they are sick or sad and help take care of them.

I also can definitely be a bitch but usually the other person deserves my ire. I also will hold grudges if people backstab me or my loved ones. They can say they are sorry but I will not trust them again nor will I let them near my circle of people.

Fav Foods: I love spicy foods, baked goods, and love trying to make new dishes or eating them.

Love Languages: Physical Touch: I love to cuddle, hug and everything else under the sun. If I'm kissed on the forehead, I will swoon.

Emotional: This is a must because if there's no emotional connection why is there a relationship to begin with. I want to be able to talk to my partner and them to me no matter the situation. Both the good and the bad.

Gift giving: I don't care what kind of gift, for me it's the thought that counts that I was on his mind.

My type: I'm very specific in my type so I'mma choose two good and one bad: I want someone loving and caring, and not a jackass. Otherwise I will be the one punching them.

Lord… I sound like a mess XD I feel bad for this but I'm really curious so good luck!

hello olivia!! this was one i wasn’t so sure on who i was gonna do, but i decided on…

Sir Pentious !!

Pentious definitely fits your type imo because he’s actually so genuine and sweet like I would not understand anyone who thinks he’s a jackass lmao

He’s very big on physical touch, but he’s scared shitless to initiate like anything ever, so the fact that he doesn’t have to worry too much calms him down a lot haha

Pen is a bit shy and a tad bit of a wreck haha so the fact that you’re social enough to draw him out of his shell a little AND aren’t too crazy for him is something that matches well with the row of you <3

He also feels very flattered if you ever get protective over him, it kinda makes him all warm inside, like you care about him so much to be protective? Like bro, he’s swooning

[virtual-fetus]

An update: i have been seeing a very wonderful man since February. He makes me feel so happy and safe, like I’ll never be treated badly again. Even when he inevitably leaves me, he has changed my life for the better and I will never settle again. I love him infinitely and in a way I have never felt before. I love him as his own person, I find him compelling and I love to watch him doing things he loves. I appreciate who he is and I honestly don’t feel the need to change my partner in any way at all for the first time in a long time. I look forward to seeing him. I love that in a way I feel like a team, not like he is out to get me. I don’t feel scared that he’s going to breakup with me because I am crazy. I don’t feel insecure because of HIS actions, only my past trauma. I do feel like he genuinely cares about me.

I haven’t been this secure since X and I haven’t been able to process that until now. I genuinely trust him and it’s terrifying because I am so scared of getting hurt again, every other time I trusted someone I got fucked over. I just don’t want to believe him and “fall for it” but I really do think he is a good person and not like other men. I am shocked by how deeply I can feel for him. I am definitely the most attracted to him, in comparison to other men.

While he is not my daddy, I feel so seen and taken care of. He doesn’t even need to be my daddy because I do feel extremely fulfilled with him just being my boyfriend but today I almost let it slip out. The forbidden nickname… which means he must be doing something right.

While he doesn’t need to be my daddy, I do love when his voice gets sweet and gentle or silly. When he calls me sweet girl and cutie girl, I start shrinking inside. What I love the most about little space and being a baby is the happiness, the lighthearted flying feeling. I love feeling authentically myself and having someone embrace that. I have been little in front of him and I’m not sure if he knows what exactly it is but he treats me with so much kindness. It seems natural for him. I wish I was a better version of myself, I wish I never had all of the things happen to me that did. I’m so scared for this breakup.

NSFW ⚠️ but he is just the most heavenly man and he makes me feel so good 😭 every time we fuck my body relaxes fully and I am able to orgasm which is insane. I am so horny for him, he is the best I’ve ever had and I do not even need the bells and whistles of kink. The smell of his cum makes me feral. Thinking about him, snuggling with him, being around him. I am so horny for him. He’s gorgeous, every single centimeter of his body is hot. I don’t even know what to do. Sometimes I get imposter syndrome. I’m so attracted to him, I would do absolutely anything he asks (besides involve other people) he makes me nervous but not in a shy way, in a blooming way. I want to give him my best me. I can’t imagine ever wanting to break up with him and I hope my mouth doesn’t say things I don’t mean and ruin this relationship

[silverandsoulbonded]

A Life of Stories - Soulbonding and My Story

It’s the late 90’s. A tiny child sits in the grip of wonder on the carpet two feet from the old, analog television screen. The volume is turned way down on a Saturday morning, so as not to wake the parents. And Digimon: Adventure is playing.

That kid was me.

I spent the next several days telling anyone and everyone I knew about the trials and bravery of my favorite new friends on the TV. Taichi and his Digi-pals.

Every Saturday morning I tuned in with wrapped attention to check in on my friends. Because that is what they were. I could not explain it at the time, and looking back I see that I did not understand just how powerful my love for them was, but over the years I began to notice the disparity between my experience and that of others. The glazed looks I received when I tried to communicate just how much the “stories” around me meant to my heart and spirit.

As I grew, so too did my well of worlds. When it was not Digimon, it turned to Batman and the DC Animated Universe. Over the years, as things became harder and harder for me in an unsafe household, I would reach out to those stories for safety and comfort. In the dead of night, listening to shouts, I would silently pray for Batman to come in and save me. I would think about Static, from Static Shock, and his bravery. I would long for the Justice League to show me hope.

I grew up in a conservative Protestant Christian household, and I was quickly taught from the moment I could understand stories that they were not real. It seemed a strange double-standard to me, as we read of Jesus and his amazing feats, recorded centuries ago by the hands of men but somehow “different” than the other stories I consumed, which also taught me and affected me just as emotionally.

It would not be until adulthood that I could finally articulate this incongruity I felt, much less possess the bravery and personal freedom to think about it on my own terms. To set aside the pre-packaged “truth” I had been fed growing up in order to find my own fresh fruits of wisdom and meaning.

Stories. Stories are what sustain humanity. All we have are stories. Even the perceptions we store in our brains are only that. Perceptions. Stories. We can never truly know what an orange is, or who a person is. We only can know our perception of them, and the story of them that lives on within us.

And, sometimes, those stories speak to us in the most fantastic and magical of ways.

Fast forward to 2021.

I am an adult. A practicing witch and pagan. An artist and writer. I am functional and thriving. And I have an unusual family.

Some of the most important people in my life do not exist on the physical plane of this Earth quite the same as other friends of mine. They exist in the subtle realms of Dream and thought and wonder. Over time I have come to find many names for them. Spirits, guides, and “soulbonds”.

I began my foray into the community of “soulbonding” when I began to sense, or rather, acknowledge the living quality of some of the “characters” I was writing about. One character in particular, a being who introduced himself to me in a dream, had me particularly flummoxed. I called him Asura, and from the moment he entered my life through that dream, my entire world changed. It was akin to stepping onto a roller coaster car while it was still moving—except this roller coaster had no track and no limits. His entire presence permeated my life, my thoughts, my daydreams. I wrote about him, and it was my writing about him that led me to thoughts, questions, and explorations I would have never dared otherwise. By finding him, he led me to find myself, and for that I shall be forever grateful.

At some point, I, and even my closest friends, became aware of a “spookiness” about my dogged pursuit of this mysterious character. I started to know things about him and his world, and make connections in his story, that seemed to come out of nowhere but which all cohered together perfectly. Without a fault, I would learn tidbits about him that would suddenly fit with another thing I learned later, though I never had to strain to achieve such things. It was not so much that I was “creating” the story so much as “recording” it. There were elements of his story that overlapped with our world’s history and it was spooky as all get out when I learned about historical facts through his story and later found them to also be reflected in my own world, which has a similar timeline to his. A sort of “sibling world” to his.

We also noticed the tremendous power of my emotional connection to him and his friends. My boyfriend at the time even became jealous of Asura, though I assured him that was absurd. “Asura is just a story,” I would say. And my boyfriend thought the same yet he, and others, seemed unable to ignore the fact that there seemed to be something weird going on.

And, one day, with horror, I realized I was in love with Asura—fortunately, by that time I had since broken up with my boyfriend—but the idea terrified me. Unsurprisingly, this sent a conservative Christian “good kid” such as myself down into a spiral of questions and disbelief.

I felt the imposter syndrome. I thought, “I must be insane.” Yet, no one, myself included, could deny the reality of this connection I felt.

Over time, Asura and his friends began to speak to me. They guided me and provided loving support to me. I, at the time, figured I was either crazy or eccentric.

“Maybe this is a writer thing,” I thought.

And it was that thought that led me to soulbonding. I learned of other writers who also had their “characters” come alive to them. Alice Walker, author of the famed American work, The Color Purple, allegedly purported that she had received her story straight from the characters’ mouths one afternoon, during which she sat down to tea with them and learned their tale. And that is when I found a forum site called “The Living Library” (now defunct), and learned the term “soulbonding”.

In that community I found others who echoed my story in various ways. Deep personal connections to entities from other worlds, many of whom they found depicted in the flourishing ecosystem of thought and imagination, stories, that surrounds the human race. Others, discovered their unconventional friends via dreams, visions, or odd circumstances just like myself. One person I met had actually found one such friend first, in this instance a version of Edward Elric from “Full Metal Alchemist”, before learning years later—with a start I imagine—that Edward actually had an entire manga and anime about him.

I say “version” because another amazing phenomenon I discovered was the occurrence of many instantiations of people, characters, from infinite worlds, all with slight variances from one another. That is when I was introduced to the idea of Multiverse Theory and Many Worlds Theory.

As my personal investigations led me down various spiritual rabbit holes, and eventually led me to spirit-working and witchcraft, I found more and more ideas that seemed to jive with my experience.

I discovered what are colloquially called “pop pantheons” in occult circles. Pantheons of spirits and deities who connect to pop culture figures in human society—and even figures from “fiction”. And there is a whole, thriving community of people who lead successful, fulfilled, and meaningful spiritual lives working with these entities. I learned that reality and “truth” are not objective like I had been taught so long ago. And I finally understood MY truth—all we have are myths and stories. Experience is subjective and the only measure of meaning and truth we have is in the effects we see in our own lives.

With tremendous wonder and happiness, and even love, I have seen the effects my unconventional friends and family have wrought in my life. Asura is my familiar spirit now, and I have a whole host of other beings whom I love. Some come from “personal gnosis”, or unique experience, such as Asura. Others are beings who have come to me from the vast world of collective Dreaming that permeates our world, evident in media sources, in the form of stories.

I still have moments of doubt. I sometimes wonder, “Gee-golly-whiz, am I NUTS?” But then I remember that my truth exists only in my own experience. My ethereal family brings me happiness, growth, and meaning. And there really is no difference between my relationship with them and the relationship I had with Jesus so long ago. Every experience is real to me, and brings with it change and good. And that is what matters.

In this blog I intend to share my experience, in hopes that it can offer a beacon to others in similar situations. Every person’s experience is unique, though I hope mine can at least offer some hope, understanding, and love to another.

Cheers.

And happy story-telling.

- Cosmic

[higgity-heck]

Hi hello how are you doing with this new Essek information because I do not know if I am well

ah my friend, I’m very interested but not particularly surprised

I mean first let’s look at the amount of sense it makes that he isn’t consecuted. First, it seems that within the dynasty people are chosen for consecution based on their faith in the luxon - of which essek has absolutely none. He’s a very good liar, but I doubt he would be capable of or willing to put up enough of a front of worship to get considered for consecution by the powers that be in the dynasty.

Regardless, him not being consecuted isn’t surprising in the context of the dynasty - if it makes you functionally immortal, it doesn’t seem like they’d be handing it out to someone who’s a) so intelligent he could be dangerous and b) like, the equivalent of a 24 year old. It feels like the sort of thing you’d be awarded towards the end of your (first) life.

That’s assuming he would even want to get consecuted in the first place. Based on what we know of him as a person and the events of ep 97, he really doesn’t trust the beacons being worshipped in general. It seems like he’d avoid giving his soul to a power he doesn’t understand or trust, no matter the ‘reward’ of immortality (which I think is fucked up in general, but that’s a meta for another post). He’s a rational person - I think he’d see the flawed logic of stealing artefacts for knowledge, but using them for his own means anyway.

Additionally, he’s the queen’s spymaster, and with the revelation of typhros in the egtw, it’s possible he knows from the umavi about the queen/other consecuted souls going mad. As someone who evidently values his own rational, sane mind, he’d probably be absolutely horrified at the idea of going crazy eventually.

So personally, the fact that he’s not consecuted hasn’t really changed my perception of him; if anything, it makes more sense than if he was.

Now, the question becomes why did he lie about his consecution status?

We know he lied to the mighty nein about it when he didn’t know them very well, so it seems plausible that he did this so these weird foreign mercenaries would respect/fear him more as their ward.

It seems weirdly inconsistent for him to lie to them but not the dynasty as a whole, so I’m going to assume that he will tell people he’s consecuted/lie by omission regularly, independent of what he tells the nein.

I’ve got a couple of ideas as to why: first, at least part of it must be to do with stealing the beacons. It’s not going to work universally - going to assume that the queen has some sort of say in who is consecuted - but if he can let most people believe he’s consecuted, they’d suspect him of being the traitor less. If his soul belongs to it, he’s hardly going to go sending it off to the other side of the continent, so it’s likely that he’s partially covering his own tracks.

Another facet of this could be his imposter syndrome and desire to prove himself in the eyes of those much older than himself. The floating, the aloof and arrogant exterior, lying about being consecuted, ‘I’m something of a prodigy’ - all of it would contribute to creating this facade of someone that deserves respect.

Actually, that reminds me - he once said he was ‘glad he was accepted into den thelyss,’ despite saying his actual mother was the umavi. What if there was a chance he could be disowned if he didn’t live up to his dens expectations? It’d make a whole lot of sense - he spends his entire life proving himself, becoming a prodigy, going into politics even if it really doesn’t seem like something he’s interested in, creating this persona of The Shadowhand, letting people think he’s consecuted, all in the hopes that he won’t be tossed out of his own home.

Of course he’s not consecuted, and of course he lied about it, because at this point it’s probably second nature.

[princessofgayskull]

ik this isn't she-ra related but ur main blogs asks aren't open 😳😳 n e wey, thoughts on folklore?? i wanna hear ur favorite songs, favorite lines, any parts that gave u chills, all the good stuff

Someone asking me about Taylor Swift? Someone asking my thoughts about Taylor Swift?! Someone actually wanting to hear what I have to say about Taylor Swift? I feel like Entrapta back in season one when she was asked about her theories about Etheria and was she excited to show everyone her model.

Before I dive in, I want to apologize that it took me so long to get this to ask. I’ve been swamped trying to keep up with summer classes and I wrote several versions of this post only to have tumblr delete it and make me start over before I had the bright idea to write it on a google doc first so I didn’t lose all my work and that is the draft you are reading now! But, for authenticity reasons, after I saw this ask I scrambled to write what I could remember from my first album listen that took place at exactly 11pm (after I watched and cried to the cardigan video, of course). Here there are in note form:

I cannot believe that in the darkest timeline that Taylor Alison Swift dropped a surprise album with sixteen songs in an entirely different genre (the heart attack I had when I learned folklore was a genre shift; I cannot believe I doubted the song writing legend herself). The album has been out for a week and I kid you not the only reason I know I didn’t make it up or dream it is because this album is far more beautiful than I could’ve ever come up with. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve listened to it. Everything about the album- the lyrics, the topics, the genre, the production- speaks my language fluently. Even during the first listen I felt that I had somehow known these songs my whole life despite their raw newness. 

This might read weird, but I think one of my favorite aspects about the album is how voyeuristic it feels to listen to. I don't mean sexually, but rather the way it feels like I don't have full permission to be looking at the lives of the people she is singing about. It's as if Taylor said, "I know you want to peek behind the curtain and see all my flaws" so she dives into these characters who are very flawed people and is so raw and honest as she takes their place saying almost "I will treat them like you treat me." 

Yet at the same time, it's her most grounded album. There's something so shiny about pop music (I'm not knocking it, I love pop music, life's too short not to) but this is as if Taylor's pop mentality was left out in the rain and rusted. There's something so real and familiar about it. Like you can reach out and hold it in your hand.

It's venturing too far into the forest and stepping into another dimension and living in it for sixteen songs. A dimension of mysticism, nihilism, magic, and mistakes.

Here is my track-by-track list of favorite things/ chill moments/ awestruck moments.

the 1- WHAT AN ALBUM OPENER. This song rips my heart out and stomps on it. "You know the greatest loves of all time are over now" Why does lyric make me wanna break down and have the most cathartic cry? The defeated acceptance of it all is gut wrenching. "In my defense I have none" Taylor's turn it phrase on this album is brilliant and I aspire to this level of word cleverness.

cardigan- the slow buildup of this song pure magic. If you don't scream "Cause I knew everything when I was young!" at the top of your lungs when listening to this song, are you really a cardigan stan?

the last great american dynasty- F. Scott Fitzgerald who? No, I only know Miss Taylor Swift. Seriously, this song isn't even four minutes long and it's better than any novel written about the American dream. Also, "and then it was bought by me" Taylor you cannot just drop that bombshell on me without letting me get emotionally prepared.

exile ft. bon iver- a song crafted in heaven. Somehow it makes me both depressed and provides me serotonin. I can't get enough of the lyric "I'm not your problem anymore/ so who am I offending?" FUCK THAT'S GOOD. THE SONG IS SO GOOD. SMASH THAT REPEAT BUTTON. I could drown in this song.

my tears ricochet- by far my favorite on the album, and my favorite number five track. I don’t think there’s another Taylor Swift I relate to as much as this one. This hits a very, very close to a personal place for me. Right at the center of an open wound. And god, the build up. It just makes the emotional experience that more poignant. “And I can anywhere I want, anywhere I want, just not home.” I got chills the first time I listened to that lyric, and it brings tears to my eyes. Needless to say, I’ve had some good cries to this song.

mirrorball- this track is about as cutting as they come. The Imposter Syndrome anthem. It’s the “everything that comes from me has to be perfect, to make up for the fact that it’s from me” song. It’s the sense that nothing you do is worth doing if there’s no audience, yet the audience is the biggest threat. “I’ve never been a natural, I’ll do is try, try, try.” Yeah. There’s a reason this is the TS album I relate to the most. 

seven- I keep saying these songs are so beautiful, but god, this one. Her vocals, the lyrics; in my opinion, a defining moment on the album. The driving home of the point that stories are important because we tell them. It’s a story plagued by a narrator who’s too young to understand and can only put the pieces together as she’s looking back. “And I’ve been meaning to tell you/ I think your house is haunted/ your dad is always mad and that must be why.” I almost can’t handle that. The loss of childhood innocence and the longing for it in just three minutes and twenty eight seconds.

august- “REMEMBER WHEN I PULLED UP AND SAID GET IN THE CAR AND THEN CANCELED MY PLANS JUST IN CASE YOU CALL/ BACK WHEN I WAS LIVING FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL, FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL/ MEET ME BEHIND THE MALL!” currently trying to learn this on guitar, which is fun because I’m not much of a singer. Also, I think that Betty and this girl should ditch James and date each other, if you’re of the interpretation that James is a cishet guy.

this is me trying- So I know that this is a song about a woman struggling with an alcohol addiction, but I really relate to this song because it just feels so much like my struggle with mental illnesses and the way my potential died so quickly because of that struggle. “I was so ahead of the curve/ the curve became a sphere/ fell behind all my classmates/ and I ended up here.” yep. that’s about it.

illicit affairs- again, the build up. “Don’t call me kid! Don’t call me baby! Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me!” Gotta scream that everytime. Also are we going to talk about the lines “Take the words for what they are/ a dwindling mercurial high/ a drug that only worked/ the first few hundred times” ? because I cannot stop thinking about it, or any of the lyrics for that matter.

invisible string-Joe Alwyn, do you know one of the most beautiful songs in history was written about you? I love the instrumental on this one. Also, it’s just flat out brilliant. “Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to L.A” Holy shit.  Also, “cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart/ now I send their babies presents.” You know what that is? Growth.

mad woman-while my tears ricochet takes the spot as my favorite, this is the Taylor Swift song I claim above all others. “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/ what about that?” This song is at the intersection, however coincidental, of my identity as a mentally ill woman. It’s also extreme vindication the way she calls out women acting as double agents of the patriarchy. A scathing criticism of patriarchal socialization and the way women are punished for reacting to anything. 

epiphany- listen to this song after watching the news. lay down. assume fetal position. try not to cry. fail and sob. wash, rinse, repeat.

betty- the old taylor can’t come to the phone right now cause she’s chewing out james for cheating on betty. *wink* However, she will write a folksy banger that’s very old taylor where James takes accountability for their mistake. I love the wlw interpretations of the love triangle songs, and I also can totally see James as a he/him lesbian. 

peace-the disembodied feel of this song is so unique to Taylor’s sound but I totally dig it! This is the album of a woman in her thirties, and I hope it paves the way to more women being able to stay within the industry getting older. There’s a maturity here that is the result of having created so many albums and having found her voice.

hoax- Time to go scream off the edge of a cliff in solidarity. An open closer that rivals the defeatism of the opener, a slow descent into madness that has followed a trauma. “You know it still hurts from scars from when they pulled me apart/ but what you did was just as dark/ darling, this was just hard/ as when they pulled me apart.” Literally no words. I’m always left speechless. 

If you’ve ever thought “I like Taylor but I don’t like her music because she did country and now does pop” this is the album you need to take a chance on. I can only dream of one day possessing Taylor’s ability to tell stories and this album will stick with you in all the best ways. The reason Taylor Swift can genre jump the way she does so seamlessly is because of her unrivaled strength as a songwriter. Stream folklore on spotify!!!!!!!!!

This is probably much more than you asked for, but I hope it satisfies! Thank you for letting me gush about Taylor and this album!!!!!! Sorry it took me so freaking long! If you have thoughts, I would LOVE to hear them!

[camillemontespan]

the interview he walked out of [drake walker]

@moonlightgem7​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @sirbeepsalot​ @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore​ @burnsoslow​ @pug-bitch​ @ibldw-main​ @emichelle​ @dcbbw​ @katedrakeohd​ @mskaneko​ @gardeningourmet​ @notoriouscs​ @pedudley​ @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld​

         ***********************************************************************

These are the things I know about Drake Walker. He is half American. He met his wife, Camille Montespan, at court - she was a commoner taking part in the infamous suitor competition to win the King's hand in marriage. Little awkward, I must say. Drake was awarded the title of the Duke of Valtoria. He now shares two children with Camille, his daughters Lily and Luna. In the space of seven years, he has come a long way from the commoner at court.

Having read through my colleague's interviews with him, he seems friendly and has settled into his role as Duke quite well. A surprise considering he is not of noble blood and was known as the King's best friend, riding along on his tailcoats.

Duke Magazine used to be very selective in who they interviewed. I used to meet Dukes who have inherited their title through generations and Dukes who attended prestigious boarding schools. Now, I meet a commoner who can trace half his family back to Texas and who openly admits that he hates dinner table etiquette.

We meet in a hotel suite. He looks, like everyone says, not like a typical Duke. Instead of wearing expensive designer clothes, he is dressed in a dark blue Henley shirt, brown leather jacket and dark jeans with boots. He looks like an urban dad on the school run. 'Suits have never been my scene,' he tells me, almost bashful.

Drake is perfectly nice. He shakes my hand, says its good to meet me and asks if I want a coffee. So far, polite. Good first impression. He's been taught well.

I ask him how he finds being a Duke, having been in the job for seven years now. He now sports a beard, as opposed to his clean shaven face when he first came to public attention, and he has laughter lines around his eyes. He was twenty-eight when he became the Duke of Valtoria and newly married. He smiles and settles back, relaxed.

'I'm actually really enjoying it,' he says. 'I've found my feet, after what seemed like an age. Mind Over Matter is doing well, it's making a difference. I'm making a difference. Everything is great.'

Ha. I repeat that quote back at him jokingly and he turns red. 'Ah, yeah,' he says. 'The famous quote.. Well, it's true though.'

What has he learned in the seven years of being the Duke of Valtoria?

'God, I've learned a lot,' he muses. 'Just to try not to repeat my counterparts mistakes. Be the difference. And also that I am a really overprotective dad - I didn't realise how anal I could be about parenting.'

He doesn't talk like typical nobles. It's.. disconcerting.

I wonder if he has anything else in the pipeline aside from Mind Over Matter. He shakes his head. 'Not yet. Right now, the charity is my baby. I want to focus on it completely, make it the best it can be.'

Mind Over Matter has somehow managed to prove its critics wrong. I'll admit I was one of those naysayers who viewed the campaign as a glorified Boys Weekend, casting doubt over the campaign before it even began. I tell him this and he bristles.

'I don't get how people could be negative about something that is so positive,' he tells me. 'Men get emotional too. If women are feeling under pressure they may go out with friends or to a spa, and people call it self care. So why can't Mind Over Matter be viewed in the same light?'

I have to argue that Cordonia is traditional in the sense that home life is important. Husbands being away from home for days on end so that they can hike up mountains and kayak seems neglectful to their wives. Family values are the most important thing in Cordonian society.

Drake eyes me. 'I can tell you now that my wife does not feel in any way neglected. She encourages it actually. And we raise our family in the best way we can.'

Even with his justification, he is still a Duke with responsibilities who chooses to go away for long weekends to take part in Mind Over Matter. This is completely different compared to previous nobles I've met who attend palace balls and polo matches.

'I want to be a present Duke,' he explains, clearly tired of having to explain himself. 'The campaign gives me a chance to meet all types of men from all over Cordonia. I'm not just meeting Valtorians, I'm meeting everyone, and that, in my opinion, is a big deal. I want to be there for everyone, not just a select few.'

Drake clears his throat. 'Let's move on.'

We do. Does he ever feel like he has won the lottery whenever he thinks about his life?

'Very much so,' he answers. 'I often get imposter syndrome you know? Like I don't deserve any of this. I've got Camille, I've got my daughters.. I thank my lucky stars everyday.'

Drake has had to prove that he is worthy of the title of Duke more than most of his counterparts. He has dealt with a slew of negative press asking if he is up to the job.

'It was a learning curve,' he admits. 'I didn't know what to expect when me and Camille were installed at Valtoria and suddenly were given titles. We both felt like frauds which is why we've worked so hard to make a difference in Cordonia.'

They have certainly shaken things up. They are the first noble couple to pioneer their own campaigns. They talk about mental health. They advocate for women's equality. Their modern outlook is at odds with the traditional nature of Cordonia. Many have criticised them, saying that they should stick to what they're best at, which is supporting their duchy. I will admit I was one of them. It's not like Drake and Camille are qualified doctors or therapists. What can they possibly change that a professional can't?

Drake's eyes widen at this question. 'I think that's so narrow minded,' he says. 'I'm sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but it is. Everyone struggles. Just because I'm not a doctor doesn't mean I can't help or offer support. I use my platform for good. I don't want to show off wealth or my title. When I lived at court, I would see so many nobles who were arrogant and looked down on those who weren't born with the same privileges as they have. I'm different, Camille is different. We want to get to know the public and hear about their issues. Why even have this role if we can't help?'

I am about to speak but he bulldozes through.

'We're changing things from the inside out,' Drake explains. 'We were the first nobles to reintroduce the concept of Open Houses, which is when our duchy can visit our house and talk to us personally about any issues they need help with. We don't shy away from the public, we actively encourage them to speak to us. We work hard to shape Cordonia into a more modern and equal place. I want the future to be different for my little girls. I want them to be happy, to have opportunity and to feel they can do anything they set their mind to. I want them to feel safe.'

Safety. Drake obtained a restraining order against the paparazzi when daily stalking became too much for the family. It means photographers aren't allowed within 12 feet of them and if photos are published of their children, pixels are placed on top of their faces, obscuring the image.

I understand that Drake is the ultimate family man so a restraining order was not a surprise. But what I can't get my head around is why do Drake and Camille, who constantly say their privacy is important, take part in magazine interviews like this one?

'Because we have things we want to promote,' he answers dryly. 'I don't do these interviews because I'm desperate for attention.'

I've hit a nerve. I press on, suggesting that they can't have it both ways. Many journalists were incredulous when Drake and Camille drew red lines around their private and public image.

'Look, we chose to protect our family,' Drake says. 'I think if any man was in my position, he would do the exact same thing. Camille and I may have accepted our roles but we genuinely want our kids to have as normal a childhood as possible. So if that means no paparazzi, perfect.'

Despite the restraining order doing its job now, there are many pictures out there that were released before it came into action. Pictures such as holiday photos of the couple, particularly Camille in a bikini. Everyone knows what she looks like scantily clad and it lead to men's magazines calling her Cordonia's Sexiest Duchess. How does it feel to be married to Cordonia's most admired woman?

Drake's jaw becomes set when I ask this. 'I feel lucky to be married to her because of who she is. She's amazing. But she's not an object or a trophy, that's completely demeaning.'

And yet, column inches are dedicated to how to achieve her bikini body. People can't get enough. How does Camille feel about that, I wonder?

'Can we not talk about my wife's body, please?' he asks. 'Not appropriate.'

The images are out there though. Everyone has an opinion. Drake and Camille are more like celebrities than nobles, which I think is why everyone is so interested in them. When bikini pictures become part of the news cycle, Cordonia goes crazy. Plus he can't deny that she is a stunning woman. She has the whole package.

'Camille is more than just her looks,' Drake says. 'She is fiercely intelligent, kind and the best person for the role of Duchess of Valtoria. If you have to mention her, talk about her work for women's equality in the workplace. Or that she visits children's hospitals at Christmas time with Santa. Talk about those things but don't talk about those magazines that print pictures of her body, just don't. She's worth so much more than that.'

I steer the conversation away and ask about the two of them as parents. Drake has admitted he is over protective. Is Camille the same?

'Yes but less so,' he tells me. 'I think it's just in my nature to always want to protect my family. I protected Camille when she first came to court. Camille tries to calm me down but even she has her moments when she worries if Lily is eating enough vegetables or Luna is sleeping well. But that's normal. Every parent doubts their abilities, you just gotta believe that you're doing a good job and raising them right.'

I wonder if that is due to Drake losing his father as a teenager and Camille losing her parents to drugs. Perhaps they are trying to over compensate for their broken backgrounds. But Drake abruptly stands up, shaking his head.

'No, I'm not continuing this anymore,' he tells me. 'I'm done.'

I apologise and say we won't discuss Camille again but Drake is adamant that he won't sit back down. 'You brought up my wife's parents. By all means, ask about my dead father and my abandonment issues but don't even try to discuss my wife's parents without her present.'

I try to explain. Her background is so vague, her PR team have tried their best to keep the details private but we all know her parents struggled with drug addiction. Camille will politely answer one or two questions and then steer the conversation away, which I always feel is a cop out. Unlike her husband, she does not go into too much detail about her struggles.

Drake bolts up from his seat. I stand up to try to placate him but the Duke of Valtoria won't be calmed. 'This is over,' he tells me firmly. 'I'm fucking done. It is not my place to answer questions about my wife or her parents. That is HER story.'

I try to stop him from leaving but he is quick to pull on his jacket and mutter swear words under his breath.

I ask him to sit down so we can start over but he turns to me, his eyes filled with fury. 'Camille is the strongest woman I know,' he hisses. 'She has been through hell and she's come through the other side brighter and stronger than ever. She makes a difference and she loves Cordonia. She genuinely cares. Make THAT your fucking headline.'

He storms out of the room. He's walked out of this interview, creating a headline that is now out of his control.

                             **********************************************

Drake slammed the front door and stormed through the hallway. He felt sheer rage.

Camille rushed out of the living room and stopped him from entering. 'Baby, what's happened?' she asked. 'The girls are in the living room, be calm.'

Drake sighed and gestured for her to follow him into his study. He crumpled down onto his chair and placed his head in his hands.

'I lost it,' he muttered. 'I walked out of the interview. I know that's so unprofessional and will look really, really bad but jesus, Camille, the stuff he was asking!'

Camille knelt down in front of him and placed her hands on his knees. 'Drake, look at me,' she murmured.

Drake looked at her reluctantly.

'Whatever he asked, whatever is printed, will not be the end of the world,' Camille told him, her voice steady. 'Negative press just comes with the territory. We can rise above it.'

Drake clenched her hands tightly. 'He mentioned your parents,' he choked. 'He asked about your bikini photos. He spoke about you like you weren't worth anything. I felt so angry on your behalf, Camille. So angry. The thing is, he wasn't doing it to get a rise out of me, he was doing it because he wanted a particular angle for his damn article.'

Camille closed her eyes. 'People are going to ask about my parents, Drake,' she said. 'It's expected.'

'He suggested we over compensate on our parenting because of our backgrounds,' Drake spat. 'Complete dick.'

Camille placed her hand on his cheek, her brown eyes boring into his. 'It's okay,' she whispered.

'I'll order them to pull the article!' Drake burst out. 'I'll make sure they don't print it. All it will do is get other journalists asking you shit about your parents and I don't want you to endure that humiliation. I'll threaten, I'll sue, I'll do anything to keep this article from reaching newsstands -'

Camille pressed her finger on his lips, silencing him. 'Baby, breathe,' she said quietly. 'Breathe.'

Drake looked down at the floor and exhaled. 'I just want to protect you.'

'And you do,' Camille told him. 'You always protect me. But Drake, you can't sue every newspaper that dares to ask difficult questions. It's part of the job.'

'Yeah but you shouldn't have to be subjected to it!' Drake shouted. 'It's not fair!'

'It's what we signed up for,' Camille whispered. 'Media poking their noses into our business and lives. We knew this would happen.'

Drake's hands were tight on hers. 'I don't want them to decide your story,' he whispered, his voice cracking. 'I don't want them to define you.'

Camille kissed him softly. 'They won't. I'm Camille Walker.'

Drake smiled weakly. 'Camille Montespan to the press.'

Camille shook her head. 'Formality. I'm Camille Walker, Drake. I'm your wife and the mother of your children. I'm already defined.'

Drake let out a shakey breath and pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her. 'I love you,' he murmured.

'I love you too,' she replied. Drawing back, she sat back on her heels and gave him a serious look, her chin raised. 'I'm not upset. Let them print it. They can print all the shit they want but that doesn't make any of it true. You know who I am, I know who you are. That's all that matters.'

                           **********************************************

A few weeks later, the article was published. It was a short article due to the fact that Drake walked out mid interview. Drake didn't read it, instead choosing to look the other way when he saw the magazine on news stands.

Until he was forced to look at the magazine cover which Camille had framed and put up on a wall of her study.

'Why have you framed this?' he asked, mortified. 'It's embarrassing.'

Camille wrapped her arms around him and looked up at the picture. 'I don't see it as embarrassing,' she explained softly. 'I see it as my husband standing up for his wife and family.'

Drake blushed and squeezed her hand. 'I can't believe you framed it.'

Camille chuckled. 'Well, you do look pretty hot. It's nice seeing your younger self.'

'Do you not like my beard?!' Drake asked, pretending to be offended.

Camille giggled and kissed him gently. 'You age like fine wine, Drake Walker.'

Drake smiled and looked at the magazine cover properly, this time without shame.

[overlycaffeinatedwarmage]

RtS Ch 41-43

Chapter 41

Just after Mircea’s revelation about his wife and why he wants a Pythia so badly Cassie shifts blindly.  She winds up right outside Pritkin’s room at Dante’s. Not a surprise at all.  He’s her rock in her crazy new life and she wants and needs him back.  When Cassie’s life goes to hell, she goes to Pritkin.  She still can’t bring herself to actually see him without his soul though, that’s why she shifts outside his door.  It’s as close as she can bring herself to be even though she wants to be with him, probably more than anything right now.  

 Cassie takes a hard look at her relationship with Mircea in this chapter.  She claims that he wasn’t grooming her, but I think he was.  Grooming can mean a lot of things.  God what an ass.  She recaps what happened with the geis and what all went wrong there.  Cassie still doesn’t lay enough blame at his feet, even after all of this. Find your mad girl!  He used and manipulated you! No two ways about it.  Ugh, the marks, I hate them! Let's get rid of those ASAP.

 Rian hears the noise of the shattering phone and comes out into the hall.  I want to know what that text or voicemail said! We don’t have any comments about Rian’s clothes here.  But Cassie was highly upset and probably not noticing anything so that could go either way. Holy shit, Rian is smart. I feel like an ass not seeing her as such before now.  Does that make me prejudice?  I didn’t think the “pretty” demon girl had brains?  Or maybe it’s more so that we never really see Rian on her own.  Just as an extension of Casanova, who does little more than bitch.  

 Rian says that each old vamp needs a reason to keep going. What's Rian's play here?

Whose side is she on?  I’m still unsure of her.  At first, I thought she was team Cassie, then she betrayed Cassie, then she was back on team Cassie.  She talks about serving two masters.  This is what made me originally think she was the one who betrayed Pritkin to Mircea, but I don’t know.  I cannot figure her out.  I think she’s on team Rian.

 “Rian caught my arm. “It matters,” she said urgently. “If you care for Mircea as I think you still do.”

 “I stared at her, feeling my face turn ugly. “And did he pay you to say that?”

        “The dark eyes flashed. “I owe him no fealty; if anything, the debt I have is to you. You helped Carlos when you didn’t have to, when almost no one else would have. Even after I betrayed you, and gave my master information about your plans. I thought it was the right thing to do, the best way to help both my lords, but I was wrong. I am trying to make amends… The ones who survive are those who find some peace with their fixation, either by obtaining it or by letting it go””

 Cassie is feeling ready to give up and completely hopeless. I’ve been there.  It’s soul destroying.  I never want to go back.  Rian points out what all Cassie has done, her court, Apollo, Marco (he found his thing, it was Cassie's court. Huh, he's going to Cassie in the divorce. Never realized that before now. But those girls put him firmly on her side). Cassie has imposter syndrome.  She wants to explain away and assign her wins to someone else, without her none of those things would have happened. Oh Cassie.

Fred shows up, he hears her say Arthurian Britain, and he answers her about that. So he knows that much. What does he do with it though? Is he the rat? Please don’t let my Fred be the rat.  He is my favorite vampire in all the world.  Full stop.

 How does he know where to find Cassie?  She’s mentioned before that the tracking ward the Senate has on her isn’t precise enough to know where in Dante’s she is. Maybe the master called and said she was in the hotel.  There are only so many likely places to look. Others went looking for her too and Fred just got lucky?  Or there’s more to Fred than meets the eye…….

 Chapter 42

Caleb is laughing and catching her up on what happened in Britain, via a video spell. They had a win for once. Her warning got through and they held back the dark. Then they have domestic crazy in the suite. Jiao, Necromancer kid, is entertaining the Pythian kids and the Circle mages see it and freak.  

 Cassie asks what the witches are doing there and shots are fired "After this morning, they decided you needed some competent help.” Ooooooooo, Witch dress code: “Unlike the Circle, the covens didn’t appear to have a dress code. Or if they did, it might be summed up as “Come at me, bro.”” I love this line.

 Are abilities not genetic? Why is Jesse not a null and a Firestarter? Maybe a throwback to another relative? Dad's side? Tami pulls magic off witch and mage, go Tami go! Are we sure she's low level if she can pull that off? And drop the circles wards? If she’s low level I’d hate to meet a strong null!  Or maybe she misled Cassie as to her power level all those years ago.

 Cassie sends annoyed mages off since they don't want to be there anyway. She bickers with the Witches, says they are a family, must accept everyone there, period. Fuck yeah Cassie! Aww Jug Ears is staying, I wonder why. Especially after she dumped him in the lake. Jonas and the failsafes arrive, how? Did they shift? Confused!!

 Chapter 43

Jonas, you asshole! This is not the way to introduce more acolytes to a traumatized Cassie. Especially after the last shit you've pulled with her. How does she know if you're on her side or not? You know what she’s been dealing with too.  Guh, I’m so sick of all the jerks who “know better” in Cassie’s life.  Why are they all fucking men too?  Well, I know why.  But still ticks me off.  

 Chaos, vamps and Witches try to fight Jonas and failsafes but they deflect everything.  The failsafes shift to Cassie, and start to explain. Then the party moves to Rhea so Jonas can check on her and they can all talk more.  

 Jonas: “In that case, why would the Black Circle need Lizzie? Why risk so much to gain her abilities if they already have two acolytes, and with more power than I’ve ever seen her use?”

So, they are more powerful than Lizzie. Good. Cassie needs some powerful allies worth a damn.

 Abigail and Hildebrand explain failsafe program. They exist in times of need of Pythia. Only to come out of “hiding” in the direst of times. The need hasn't seemed vital enough until now. Everything was kept out of media, no one else knew about it so they stayed away. Then they feared they wouldn't be received well, so they went to Jonas first.  I like Hilde, she's a tougher, older version of Rhea.

 Johanna, the last acolyte.  Cassie realizes that she is the one Cassie fought in Wales.  Cassie misquotes Indiana Jones, “it's not the age, it's the mileage.” (Should be, “It’s not the years, honey, it’s the mileage.”) They talk to Lizzie.  And the news is out, she now knows that Rhea is Jonas' daughter. Soon everyone will.  Lizzie folds and finally talks.

[carbonsequestrian]

man i dont even know if i should share this because it’s super weird/ poorly written/ doesn’t make any sense but i feel like i keep too much too myself so here is a block of text i wrote and didn’t edit and if you read it, i love you.

Well, id like to kick off my music blogging career with a piece about a song that has continued to inspire me since the moment I heard it about 5 years ago. Something about the song awakens this dragon in me… or rather, something about the song awakens a knight that is about to go and slay a dragon, and that feeling crashes into every fiber of my being resulting in me feeling fucking powerful. Idk what the secret is. I wish I had found this sound when  I did a song analysis project for my freshman writing seminar back in college. (I chose Sublime’s Santeria for that project… and it was a shit show. Believe it or not, trying to write 10 pages about a song that doesn’t inspire every fiber of your being is insanely difficult. Lesson – if you have to write a lot, write about something you fucking love and admire.)

 The song is Don’t Waste Time Doing Things You Hate by And So I Watch You From Afar of their self titled 2009 release. I think it’s their debut album. Anyway, the band makes instrumental rock music. Stuff that superheroes and supervillains alike would use as a theme song. I discovered them from Worldhaspostrock on youtube, so check them out.

 Of course, now that im sitting down to write about the song I cannot think of any words to say about it. Lovely how that happens. Especially after bragging about how easy it is to write about something you love. HA>

If you’ve ever done something you hate, you sure know how that feels. Part of you feels trapped -momma didn’t raise no quitter – and another part of you is too busy daydreaming about what you’d rather be doing to formulate a plot to get you there. Feeling stuck doing something you hate is exactly how I felt when I discovered this song. I chose my major at college based on what a guy who I’d met over the internet was studying, he called me pretty and would send me ‘good morning’/ ‘sweet dreams’ texts, so we were obviously super serious. And I was going to study the same thing as him and we would conquer the world together, duh. Lo and behold, I hated my major. And because I hated my major, I didn’t really fit in with any of the people I met through my major. There was one chick who I liked because she hated it too, but we were very different people. I did sports in college instead of joining a music group (being in an acapella group was a last minute goal of mine) because A. everyone in my family was super sporty B. no one in my family thought very highly of music and C. I was fucking terrified of it. Every bit of it sends anxiety chills down my spine and up my toes. Singing in front of people in a room? Singing with people? Having people rely on you to do your thing correctly in order to achieve a desired result? Fuck that’s anxiety inducing. And let me make this clear, I don’t have stage fright. But I do have Perfectionist Block (a totally real issue, created by me, ill discuss it further in another post) which makes me extremely hard on myself.

 So anyway, to paint the picture – 20 year old me is in the library for the 50th hour that week (no kidding, I went to Cornell, and seriously spent 6-10 hours a day in the library studying during regular term. Finals/ testing weeks, it’d double) looking for upbeat instrumental music that could make me feel like a bad ass and I find this band. The first song I found by them was The Voiceless, off the same album. That song fucking slaps. I must’ve listened to it 30 times before saying “hey, why don’t I check out their other stuff?” and thus gave this album a listen. I was so stressed that week, so tired, felt so lost and alone. I hated every fucking minute of my life but I was pushing through it because I wanted to make my mom proud. Every morning I would angrily get ready for class, pissed off that elitism and this desperate urge to prove oneself through menial shit such as ‘ivy league’ degrees would push someone to find the line of their breaking point and balance on it. All for what? If I died tomorrow, who could speak of who I am? At cornell, I was a cornell student. That was it. By being there, I wasn’t anything of myself anymore. I wasn’t strong, I wasn’t funny, I wasn’t good with animals, I wasn’t a hard-worker, I wasn’t smart – though, those last traits were implied – I simply became a product of an institution. One that I loved, don’t get me wrong. I had been looking for reassurance/ acceptance/ approval my entire life, and that letter that I got from a world renowned school was it – so I thought. But then I got there and my imposter syndrome went wild. I wasn’t truly smart, or good at learning. In fact, high school had been so easy for me that I was able to scrape by with great grades without ever working on schoolwork outside of school (I’d do my work during lunch, when I would eat in the chorus room/ my English teacher’s room since I had no friends.) at school, I thought I’d made friends, but they ditched me when I needed them most. In retrospect, I should’ve been more forgiving – no one’s perfect -  but ill blame my poor socialization through high school here. I saw kids who worked their asses off day and night. A 16 year old math prodigy lived in my hall. And I had nothing to show for my intelligence outside of the fact I was able to take enough HS classes in middle school that I’d manage to have 4 hours of school my senior year (typically, that time would be so that kids could take extra APs. But I said fuck that.)

 Truth is,  I was so insecure and unsure of myself that being thrown into the lava pit that is college – any college, not just an ivy league – was emotionally and mentally overwhelming. I found myself getting drunk to the point of almost dying most nights. Every time with strangers. I’d often go to the bridges, where so many had leapt to their deaths before, and ponder if that’s where I belonged. Crashing amongst the rocks and water in the gorges. Man, I was fucking depressed. And a ball of anxiety. I had no real identity, you’d ask me what I liked or what I wanted from my life and I’d have no real answer. My answer would vary based on what youtube videos I had been watching that week. I was so scared of being judged.

 Point is, I found nothing that I felt a connection to. Not my major. Not my peers. Occasionally my surroundings, but typically only in the morbid, I’d like to throw myself off this sort of way. Life is so much more complex than those things, and truth is, ill never really be able to explain away all of the different shit in my life that was bringing me down. Making me feel worthless. Dumb. Like I didn’t belong. And the first thing that I felt like understood this, was this song. Even writing that out I feel like it confirms my worst fears, that I am worthless/ delusional/ crazy/ not even a real person. How does one go through 20 years of life and can only feel connected to a pile of noises that a stranger has made and recorded? Wavelengths generated by someone else’s finger tips never felt so good. They resonated through my brain and spoke to my soul. It was like I was being sucked into a black hole and obliterated to nothing. And that was what I needed, because I was able to look at who I was and take a chance to rebuild. To change.

 With no one to talk to, no one who understood me, and no real goals or aspirations in my life/ being too crippled by fear to even take a chance to achieve my goals/ aspirations in life, I darted in the complete opposite direction. Left that ‘dream school’ for a state school 2000 miles away. I still waste plenty of time doing things I hate, but every day I try to do my best to find the things I love. It’s been a long hard road, and I am so unsure of myself. I realize I’ll never have the validation I seek, at least not externally. Still, going to cornell is my greatest achievement and those close to me hold a grudge that I left without fulfilling my diploma. And looking back, I could’ve done it. Taken some time off, sought a therapist outside of the free service offered, opened up to some of the people I had met. Hindsight is 2020. And im here now.

 This song means the world to me. The suspense of the guitar plucking in the intro is an emotion I was swallowed in. the anger and noise of the guitars from 1:11-1:30 was how I felt every morning when I looked at the day ahead. The desperation of the guitars at 2min how I looked at the people around me, who appeared to have their shit all together. Their heads above the water. Looking at me drowning below the surface. But I had a smile on my face, so I must have been fine. Then the clarity that comes at 3mins. The music starts to feel like it’s getting itself together. 3:35-4:15, when big changes happen. And the la la lalalalalas. That’s how I was, just “la de da-ing” my way through life, not really thinking about what I was going to take from this world and my short time getting to experience it. The song gets progressively happier, and calmer, as I hope my own life will be, though I’m still in my 3min phase when it feels like it’s starting to get itself together.

 Ill always hold onto the hard times I went through at school. And ill wish everyday for a time machine, so I could go back in time and tell 18 year old me to just chill and ‘discover yourself, man’ before going to a place that has so much potential. Because the truth is, I was too insecure to be successful at such an institution. I still think I’m too insecure. But at least now I know, and I’m not living under this idea that because I got into a good school I am a good person and good things will come to me.

[sending-the-message]

Imposter by RichardCGCGCG

It started about 3 months ago. I came home from work to find my wife, Millie, sitting at our kitchen table drinking a cup of tea. I had seen this image many times in the past, but that day something was different. Something was just off about her. I couldn't quite place it, the look on her face just seemed... unfamiliar. She asked me how my day was and I immediately had a tingling sensation run down my spine. It was a voice I had heard nearly every day for the past 5 years, but something was not quite right this time. I can't articulate how it was different, but I knew deep down it sounded... wrong. I had been under a lot of stress at work in the months leading up to this, so I tried to shrug it off as fatigue and go to bed early. I couldn't sleep that night however, especially after she crawled into bed next to me. I could hear her breathing close to the back of my neck, an unfamiliar rhythm, and it felt like being in the bed with a stranger. I must have drifted off eventually, and when I woke she was already gone. The rest of my day was filled with a sense of dread and uneasiness, as I hoped and prayed everything would be back to normal the next time I saw her. I would not be so lucky.

Millie and I have been married 5 years, but I've known her since we were both teenagers. She's the love of my life, and we are as close as two people can be. We've both helped each other through incredibly difficult times, and we honestly have no secrets. I know her better than anyone else on this planet knows her, and over the next few days I came to the horrifying conclusion that this person in my home was not my wife. She looked nearly identical, but several little details were off just a bit: the wrinkles by her eyes were too deep, her fingers a bit too long, her smell slightly more musty, her voice a shade of a different tone. But more than all those things it was her mannerisms that convinced me. Her facial expressions were different, her body movements more jerky. I felt it in my bones, this nagging feeling I tried to ignore, but I knew deep down this was not my wife.

One day I was watching her from the kitchen window as she worked in the garden. Her wrist brushed a sharp branch, and I nearly choked when I saw her blood. It was black. Pitch fucking black, and shiny, almost like oil. She quickly covered the wound and whipped around to stare at me through the window. My blood ran cold as I saw her eyes flicker into a deep black. It was like staring into two empty sockets, and the momentary grimace on her face was otherworldly. It only lasted a second. Then she blinked it away, smiled and shrugged, as though nothing was wrong. I slowly backed away, feeling dizzy and nauseated. After I composed myself for a few minutes, I found her in the bathroom, having just finished wrapping her wrist. I asked to see it but she said no way, she just got the bleeding to stop. I didn't know what to do, so I let it go... but I know what I saw.

The final straw came the following night, when I woke up at 2am alone in our bed. I crept downstairs and just stood there dumbfounded. She was watching home videos alone in our living room. No, she wasn't just watching them, she was studying them. She was intently focused on the clips of herself in particular, and it dawned on me that she was learning to perfect Millie's mannerisms and voice. I flipped on the light and she nearly jumped off the couch. "Richard what the fuck, you scared me!" I stood there silently, just watching this thing pretending to be Millie, my anxiety melting into a deep anger. Finally, I said in a calm but very firm voice, "Where is she." Now this thing looked afraid. She fumbled over her words and tried asking me what I meant. "I know you're not Millie. What the fuck did you do with her, and why are you here." She looked genuinely shocked, she probably never even considered I would figure out the ruse. Of course she protested, played dumb, even worked up some tears. But through it all she also had a knowing little look on her face, a little hint of something like sarcasm.

I stormed upstairs and locked the bedroom door. No more pretending. I wasn't sleeping next to this thing another night. I needed time to think, to figure out what to do. My head was spinning. About 30 minutes later I got a call from my best friend, Gary. "Millie" had apparently left and driven to his house! Smart move trying to get him on her side. I could hear her crying in the background, and Gary sounded worried. I tried to explain everything to him, all the little differences I'd noticed. To his credit, he heard me out, but after a long pause he said, "listen man, I've known you two a long time, I care a lot about you. I'm telling you honestly, she seems like the same Millie I've always known. I think you might be sick or something. We need to take you to a doctor." My heart sank. Of course he wouldn't believe me, I barely believed it myself. But he doesn't know her the way I do. The replica was good enough to fool almost anyone. But not me. Then it hit me, "look at her wrist! She cut her wrist yesterday and her blood was BLACK." He put me on hold. "It looks like a normal scab Richard. Will you please agree to see a doctor tomorrow? I'll get you in urgently with my doc first thing in the morning." My heart sank again. I considered the possibilities. 1. He was humoring me and didn't really look at the wound. 2. Her blood looks normal after it scabs or 3. I was going fucking crazy and imagining all this. No, I know what I saw, and I was going to prove it. "Ok, I'll see your doctor tomorrow." She stayed at Gary's until the morning. We met at Dr. Abraham's office at 9am. Under her name on the door it said psychiatrist. Great.

Dr. Abraham listened patiently to everything I had to say, and then let the Millie imposter state her case. "Richard has been acting funny for a few months. He's been distant and withdrawn, and his boss even called me to say Richard seemed distracted and paranoid at work." "She's lying! That's a complete lie!" I burst out. In retrospect, not the best way to appear sane, but I was furious at this point. There is no chance on earth my boss would call her, and my work was as good as ever. Dr. Abraham held up a hand and asked me to let her finish. I gritted my teeth. Millie imposter went on hesitantly, "and I know you don't want me to say this but I'm just trying to help... his mother was in an institution for a few years when she was his age. She needed electroconvulsive therapy, and it helped her a lot." The room was silent. That traitorous. fucking. bitch. She took the deepest tragedy from my childhood and used it against me. Using all of my self-control I managed to say, "My mother, was depressed. She was not crazy. And that hospital turned her into a zombie.” I went on, "I can prove to you this thing is not my wife. Just look at her wrist." Dr. Abraham glanced at Millie questioningly. "Fine, have a look," and she unwrapped the bandage.

No. No no no. It looked like, a normal scab. Fuck. I sputtered out "It has to be fresh blood, it will be black doctor I swear to god, I know this sounds crazy but please, please, just draw a little blood.” She said, "I can't do that Richard, I'm sorry but it's totally inappropriate." I couldn't help it now, my emotions were boiling over, despair, rage, betrayal, frustration. I snatched a pen off the desk and yelled, "if you don't do it I will! I know it sounds crazy, and if her blood is red I swear I will do whatever you want, I'll back down and admit that I'm wrong, but you have to try!" Millie sat frozen, her eyes wide and terrified. "Ok" said Dr. Abraham, "I'll draw a little blood if you're willing Millie, please follow me to the lab." Millie stood mechanically and followed the doctor out of the room. 5 minutes passed, then 10. The lab was just 1 door down, they should be back by now. Did the thing refuse to have its blood drawn? Did it kill the doctor and flee? Is the doctor too shocked to do anything? Finally, a knock came at the door, and two police officers stepped in. Fuck me.

"Hi there Rich, I'm officer Mac, we're here to take you to the hospital to get some help." There was no point resisting, no escape, Millie imposter had won this round.

I'll spare you all the details of my 10 day hospitalization. They diagnosed me with some bullshit psychotic syndrome, prescribed me Risperdal, tried to convince me it was all a delusion. I almost started believing it too, that is, until the thing came to visit on the last day. I knew immediately it wasn't Millie. I also knew my freedom depended on me playing along. I deserve a goddamn Oscar for my performance that day. I hugged her, told her I'm so sorry, I realize now it was all in my head, the medications are helping, etc. She believed me. They all did. She took me home that afternoon.

It's been 4 days since I was released. I've played it cool so far. I'm taking a leave from work for a while to “recover.” I hear her talking to Millie's friends on the phone. She tells them I seem to be doing much better now, that the doctors think it was just a brief psychotic episode, that the prognosis is good, that she feels safe around me. She even thinks I'm still taking the medication they gave me. One thing I learned on day 2 at the hospital is how to cheek meds properly. She thinks she is safe.

I'm waiting for the weekend, when no one will miss "Millie" for a few days. I WILL find out what she did with my wife. I will do whatever it takes. I will make her talk. And I will make her bleed.