#this picture is actually so sacred to me i will keep it here instead of main ♡

[kaeemin]

WITH A SMILE

➠ pairing: non-idol! ex-bf!na jaemin x reader

➠ genre: angst

➠ warnings: major character death (u guessed it) | hallucinations | signs of mild depression| mentions of an accident

➠ wc: 1.089

when you are forced to let go of your true love, will you remember him by with a smile?

( it’s midnight and i’m moody and wrote this and now feel free to read and be sad with me 💋 also i wonder why jaemin has been renting out a huge room in my mind lately .. )

THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT THE GRAPHIC DRAWINGS IN A THIN PIECE OF PAPER. Something that even a thousand words couldn’t explain.

A frozen memory, where eyes were never closed, where hearts were never broken. Time stood still. A moment where you could keep forever.

So your boyfriend’s obsession over his camera made you feel a thing or two. You hated yet adored it at the same time. It wasn’t really pleasant living your life normally, not knowing someone was actually taking your picture without permission. And yet still, Jaemin’s quirky smile and his reminder of why he took the photos in the first place made your heart swell in a good way. In the best ways.

“When we’re old and wrinkled,” he’d say, “I want to show these memories to our grandchildren. Brag to them I married the most beautiful woman in the whole universe.”

It was hard to believe him — well to be exact, it was hard to believe someone like him would exist. Harder to believe you did something in your past life to deserve him.

There was something odd about him now though.

It used to be you not enjoying the flashes of a camera, but now Jaemin seems to have a hard time smiling in every picture you take.

“Jaemin! last one. Please.” You begged, dragging him upwards the small hill. It was autumn, your favorite season and it was a tradition for the two of you to see the amazing view of the place.

“Love.”

“Come on! We have to catch the sunset —“

“Love..”

“— it’ll be so romantic. Our grandchildren will really be jealous after seeing this picture.”

“Y/n.” Jaemin sighs, not moving one bit in his place. He gently pulled away from your hold on his wrist, choosing to hide his hands inside his coat’s pockets.

“Jaemin,” you say his name like it was a sacred thing, voice quivering both from the cold and the thick feelings bubbling up your throat. You don’t understand. “What’s going on, Jaem? You seem so … far away.”

Distant. He seems so distant. It doesn’t matter if he’s right here, a foot away from you. He feels like he’s miles away, somewhere you can’t reach.

Jaemin smiled, but it wasn’t his old one, it was forced out. It didn’t reach his beautiful eyes. “I can’t,” he whispered, softly shaking his head, “you have to go without me.”

“Why?” You gulp, eyes starting to become teary.

“You have to take the picture on your own.”

“Jaemin..”

“You have to share your memories with the grandchildren you and your husband will have —“

“I don’t want to!” You burst out, reaching out to him one last time. You gripped on his coat tightly, sobbing like a madwoman. “I don’t want to go alone. I don’t want the photo without you. I don’t want grandchildren if it’s not you.”

“I know darling,” a tear slowly rolled down his cheek. Jaemin took a deep breath, allowing you to press on him for as long as you need. Just for now. He rested his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes. “But you have to try.”

You whimpered, opening your mouth to call out his name, but it was hard now. It was like a thousand thorns were poking your heart whenever you tried to speak. Instead, you relished in the feeling, trying to memorize the warmth of his body.

“Y/n?”

All you could do was hum.

“Promise me you’ll smile.”

How? How will you smile when it’s so difficult? You wanted to complain, to oppose him, to be stubborn.

“Please, Y/n,” Jaemin pleaded, knowing there was not enough time. “Don’t cry when you hear my name. Remember me and smile.”

And yet, how will you not follow his request? His only wish.

“I promise.” You huskily let out, holding him tighter. Finally, Jaemin let out the most genuine smile and knew he could finally rest in peace. You know it. You felt him drifting farther away, until you could feel nothing in your fingertips.

You kept your eyes closed, lips pressed together tightly to conceal in the cries that were threatening to be let out. And then you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you instantly shift your weight to their side, too weak to be alone.

“Are you ready?” Jaemin’s mother asked in a soft voice, letting you sob so weakly by her neck. It took a few seconds of silence before you nodded, slowly lifting your head to meet her eyes.

“I hope you forgive my son, dear,” she wiped your tears, smiling sadly, “Jaemin has come home.”

“I know.” You nod again, not having the heart to hate him for leaving you. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong.

Her smile had gotten a bit larger but still not so happy. Together, arm in arm, you both climb up the hill. She would share you stories of Jaemin’s childhood, and you would share with her about the plans you and Jaemin wanted to fulfill in the future.

The only thing that stopped the conversation was when you caught the breathtaking view of the small town that you grew to love.

“I’m so glad you and Nana found this place, Y/n.” She sighed in awe, squeezing your hand. “He was right. This is the best place to ask someone to spend the rest of your lives with.”

Your eyes soften, hand unconsciously travelling to the pendant of your necklace. It was an engagement ring. The ring that was found on Jaemin’s closed fist the day of the accident. Painful memories pinched your heart once again, but you stopped them.

“I would have said yes.” You doubted anyone heard you, given how low you said it. But the winds heard, the heavens heard, and somewhere, up in the clouds, a star brightened up even more.

“Oh! We’re losing the sunset. On you go dear, I’ll get the camera. Go pose beside that tree over there.” Mrs. Na gushed while you passed her the camera. You did as she told and stood beside the lonely tree, combing your fingers through your hair to make yourself at least look a bit presentable.

“One..two..three..”

And you smiled with the click and the flash.

Because you promised.

Because you loved him.

Because you will never forget him.

Because when you go home and clip this photograph inside the book alongside with the thousands of pictures Jaemin took, you’ll remember to share to your grandchildren the story of your first love. With a smile.

and as usual, please leave feedbacks !! this fic is totally unplanned but anyways love u all mwah

[thevoidscreamer]

Here are some pictures of me looking normal. And tired. And joyful. And derpy. Point is… we’re all just people. Let’s love each other about it.

I don’t know if you can tell that I am trans. These days I worry less about passing and more about how to defend myself against attackers who feel like they have a reason to pick a fight. Yes, this has happened in real life to myself and to others. I’m done trying to fit into boxes, even if it’s meant to help me survive. People will know, or they won’t, regardless of my efforts. People will try to hurt me, or they won’t, regardless of my attempts to hide myself.

So instead, I’m preparing for the inevitable. The it’s-already-happened, just-get-out-alive moments that are coming my way. Because I am trans, I am non-binary, I am agender, I am aromantic, I am asexual, I am a gay boy, and anything else you could possibly call me. I am all these things, and I will flaunt it. Because, no matter what I do on the day-to-day, it seems that, during my lifetime anyway, there will always be people who want me wiped off the face of the earth and who feel it is their responsibility to aid their higher power in achieving that purpose.

Transness is beautiful. All queerness is beautiful. I am beautiful. And handsome. And ugly. And derpy. And joyful, and sad, and sexy, and sweet, and bloated, and titless, and muscular, and tired, and cuddly-but-also-don't-touch-me, and sometimes I have hives for no reason, and I am always changing my hairstyle, and I can't decide if I actually want to wear dresses or if I just think they're pretty on other people. But most of all, I am Not. For. You. I am for me.

If you truly feel I am leading you to sin, then go live in your church. I promise I will never go there. Still struggling? Then pluck out your eyes, cut off your arms, open your home, give up your possessions, and give all your money to the poor. Follow that book you seem to want to use to dictate everyone's life but your own.

Your sins are not my responsibility. I am holy. I am sacred. Your perversion of me is your own demon to do battle with.

I exist for me, I allow myself to be myself because I can. I allow myself to be, because I want to. Until I allowed myself to transition, I did not want to be. I wanted to end.

But here I am, years later, happy to finally be where I’m supposed to… in my body, living my life, caring for my family, my plants, my pets, rubbing cream on my eczema, eating good food, admiring the sun from a safe distance, helping my community, hearing my name cross friendly lips, whistling in the dark, and singing to the moon from the tops of the rockies, writing my books and poems!

Here I am, minding my own business, spreading love and kindness wherever I can.

Notice how none of that involves you. You know who you are, and, despite your assertions, I am not upset that you exist. I do not care that you exist. I only care that you want me dead. Stop trying to eradicate me and my way of life, and you will no longer be part of my business. Leave me be, and I won't mind you. You won't have to deal with me once you stop trying to "deal" with me.

Just let me be.

Just let us be.

And if you keep trying to wipe out our "way of life"lifestyle," you will fail. No amount of laws and restrictions and prayers and blame and deaths can stop queer people from existing. We'll keep being born, because this is just how we are. Queerness is inherent, and your rejection of it forces it to have a culture of its own, outside of yours. Attempts to legislate us out of existence or pray us into submission will inevitably fail. There will always be queer babies. There will always be an underground so long as you force us there.

So...

See me — or don’t. Close your eyes when I walk by, if you must. That doesn’t mean I don’t still exist. I always have. I always will. Please, just leave me be.

[cookinguptales]

yamagata (part three)

or The Final Part.

A continuation of this post and this post.

After a night at an onsen town and a night at a shukubo pilgrim lodging, we were finally going to the Dewa Sanzan.

I'd planned two days for this, but well. Hail happened. lmao. So we ended up going to Hagurosan, the Dewa Sanzan museum, the Shugendō museum, and Dainichibou and then just driving around Gassan and Yudonosan. ;; Tragedy. I guess I just wasn't pure enough yet, lmao. Maybe one day.

Anyway, time for Hagurosan.

(Note: please keep in mind that most temples and shrines in Japan allow exterior photography but no interior photography. So that's been respected in this post.)

So the Dewa Sanzan are three sacred mountains that the yamabushi climb regularly. Other pilgrims (particularly Buddhists) also climb these mountains, but typically don't take the same rugged trails that the yamabushi do. The idea is that you climb Hagurosan, then Gassan, then Yudonosan. You're kind of embarking on a metaphorical journey through the present, past, and future, or birth, death, and rebirth. By the time you've gotten to Yudonosan, you need to go barefoot and you're not even allowed to speak of what the object of worship is.

(I know what it is, but... no, I shan't say it.)

These days, though, mostly only hikers and serious pilgrims do the whole climb. Gassan in particular is a pretty hazardous climb, and it's closed off for most of the year unless you're a yamabushi.

You can climb parts of it (like I did) or just drive to the shrines on Hagurosan and Yudonosan. Some parts you can only see by hiking, which is why I chose to hike a little bit of it. Not even almost all of it, though. lmao. Just a couple hours' worth.

I started with Hagurosan. It's the first of the three mountains and was right near our shukubo. (That's why there's basically a whole city of shukubo and former shukubo there. Pilgrims who climbed the three mountains.) Now, a lot of people will only climb Hagurosan. It's the only one of the three mountains that's open year-round, so there's actually a shrine there that enshrines all three mountains. In other words, you can just go to the main shrine office on Hagurosan and skip the other two if you're not really looking for enlightenment through nature.

(That wasn't my goal, but I guess that's how it shook out. lmao. At least I got my goshuin for all three.)

At Hagurosan, you start down at the bottom at the main gate.

There are two statues in each side as guardians, but it was almost impossible to photograph them because of the chicken wire they put over the sides.

(This is common to prevent animals and stuff from getting inside at temples, but the mesh was finer than usual here so my camera kept focusing on that instead of what was behind it.)

There was also a small shrine to Susano-o next to the gate, before you enter Hagurosan.

There was also a small shrine to Jizo, but... God. I don't know. It was crammed to the gills full of toys, balloons, etc. and I was just too sad to take a picture. For those who don't know, Jizo is often prayed to on behalf of dead children, including miscarriages, stillbirths, and abortions. So that's why you often see him dressed in baby clothes with toys on his altar. It's people praying for the souls of their dead children.

Which... I don't know, I've seen a lot of mizuko shrines (the ones about lost children) but this one just got to me. So I don't have photos.

Anyway. Time to pass through the gate, say hi to Fuujin and Raijin, and get started.

The walk itself, though difficult, was very beautiful in the misty morning.

The main thing to see on this stretch of the hike is a Five-Story Pagoda that's about 650 years old. It's very beautiful... I hear.

I discovered after climbing down about 500 steps that it was under construction and entirely covered in opaque scaffolding. ;o;

That said, a small window is open in the scaffolding so offerings can still be made, so I got a little glimpse of it.

That said, I really enjoyed Haraigawa Shrine, which was a small shrine under a waterfall that you see shortly after you descend the first staircase.

It just looked so beautiful from the bridge. I really liked going to see that.

And look, a little Fudō Myō-ō. (He's an important deity in Shugendō.)

The Grandpa Cedar, or 1000yo cedar tree.

After this, I moseyed back to were Dad was waiting in the car (and... almost passed out lmao) and we drove to the top of the mountain to where the main shrine is.

Right before I walked into the shrine, though, I stopped at the little museum they had there about the Dewa Sanzan.

Giant tengu masks! (Note, these were HUGE, much larger than they look here.)

And I guess I at least got to see a model of the pagoda lmao.

Truthfully, this museum wasn't that huge. Most of it was swords, which... I'm sorry, all look identical to me. It did have some yamabushi outfits, regalia, ritual objects, etc., but the Shugendō museum had better examples, imo. I'll have some better photos from the Shugendō museum later on.

Anyway, on to Ideha Shrine.

The cedars were really beautiful out here, and you can see some of the subshrines behind them.

It was interesting, because people had lodged coins in the bark of a lot of these trees. I had just read some research on wishing trees in Scotland, so I annoyed everyone by taking lots of photos here.

Ah, more Jizos... and more toys...

There was a really neat little building here, but I couldn't get pictures because there was a service going on. It was wild, though. There was the most beautiful painting on the ceiling of the hall and lots of people walked in but no one looked up. And I tried to point up (didn't want to talk during the service) but no one paid attention.

Oh well. Their loss.

Anyway, finally went and visited the main hall and got my goshuinchō taken care of.

(Would anyone be interested in a post about goshuinchō? They're basically books that you get signed/stamped at shrines and temples, and some are quite beautiful.)

There was still hail all over the ground here and it was super crowded, so it was hard to get photos of a lot of the buildings. Still, I managed to get one from a bit further away.

It actually has an old-fashioned thatched roof, which was really neat to see up close. Also, it's freaking HUGE. It's just hard to tell from across the lake. That's part of why it was so hard to take a good photo from closer. It's SO BIG. One of the bigger halls I've ever seen at a Shinto shrine. There were like multiple big halls in there having services.

Why multiple halls? Well, like I said, this shrine stands in for all three mountains for people who can't get to all three. So there were different halls for each mountain/shrine.

All in all, really lovely. I was surprised to see all the tour buses, though! That would go away quickly as we approached the other mountains.

Before I get to that, though, have some photos from the Shugendō museum down at the base of the mountain!

This is the clothing that a yamabushi would wear on the mountain (with a tengu mask over the face of the dummy, haha)

And here's Fudō Myō-ō again.

There are tons of photos I could show off of this little museum, but I'm not sure if others will find them all as interesting as I do...? So here's one fairly spectacular one of a life-size diorama of a ritual.

So then we were out of there, driving out towards Gassan and Yudonosan. A couple photos of Gassan from the road... (Just peeking out in the background if you zoom in on the second.)

You can probably see why it's closed. It was super snowy already in October, so it's just not safe for most hikers.

Now... you may be wondering why we drove towards Yudonosan but I did not actually get to go to the shrine there.

Frankly, part of it is just that I was going pretty slow that day. I hadn't slept much the night before (my dad...... snores a lot lmao) and I wasn't feeling great so I was kind of white-knuckling it through these climbs. A lot of walking isn't easy for me on a good day, and this wasn't a great day. So it took me a lot longer to get through Hagurosan and the museums than I'd anticipated.

(And... again, I had actually scheduled us another day that we kind of lost to the weather. ;; The museums had been closed, too.)

But what really put it over the edge to "we will miss our train if we go to Yudonosan" was how dang long it took at Dainichibou.

Now, I've talked a bit about sokushinbutsu, living Buddha, and self-mummifying monks before a couple times, so I'll just point you to that.

(Extreme trigger warning for discussions of death, religious suicide, self-starvation, self-poisoning, etc., though there are no photos. That said, if you do wish to google photos of Shinnyokai, I do think there's something kind of beautiful about him.)

Anyway, I was really, really lucky to have the experience that I did at Dainichibou. And... obviously, I do not have photos.

But it did take uhhh a couple hours longer than expected. I wasn't expecting an entire history lesson from a monk when we walked in. I was lucky to get it!!! And to get to spend so much time with Shinnyokai. But it did prevent us from going to Yudonosan.

All that said... a few more photos.

First, this photo that had me in fucking hysterics. It's pointing the way to Dainichibou with a super cutesy graphic that does not at all prepare you for what's actually inside that temple.

Second, some exterior photos of the temple grounds.

(These were taken by Dad while I was getting my goshuin, my phone died RIP.)

And finally, my pride and joy, the one thing I really, really wanted to get for myself if at all possible in Japan this trip... The omamori of Dainichibou Temple.

Like... I won't lie, it's a bit of a morbid "souvenir". But there also feels like there's something deeply meaningful to it. It makes me feel like I'm participating in a ritual that a person literally gave their life to complete, you know?

If you didn't read that explanation post of what's in Dainichibou, then you may not know why this is special.

(again, content warning for death)

The object of veneration at Dainichibou is a sokushinbutsu, or a monk who mummified himself while he was still alive so he could become a living Buddha/bodhisattva and bring salvation, good health, and enlightenment to humans still on earth.

It's said that he pulled out his own eye during his lifetime to help end a plague, and... well, idk about that. Stories are perhaps more powerful than most humans are. But I did feel some kind of way seeing the statue of Kannon that the monks had "defaced" there, pulling out one of her eyes so she would match the mummified corpse they have in their back room.

Shinnyokai sits up in eternal repose, and you can meditate with him. And, when you leave, you can buy an omamori. Now, omamori are charms that you can buy at pretty much any shrine or temple. They are small charms, often cloth bags with something inside them. You don't open them; seeing what's in there isn't the important part. It's usually a sutra written by one of the monks or something similar.

But the omamori at Dainichibou is something much more materially significant, I suppose. Every six years, Shinnyokai's brightly colored robes are changed. When that happens, the old robes are cut up, and scraps of them are placed into the omamori that will protect pilgrims that come to visit him, pray with him, and listen to his story.

I feel like there's a fine, fine line between dark tourism (which I'm usually not a fan of) and joining in a ritual like this. But... I can't help but respect this man's sacrifice, you know? The act of sokushinbutsu takes ten years, and those ten years are agonizing. I don't think I've ever wanted anything that much. And while I may not ever know his entire life story or why he chose to do it for sure, I do know that he did it.

So... it feels like if I'm going to visit him, I need to respect that choice and allow the monks there to try and protect me in the best way they know how -- which is teaching me the history of the temple, (being shocked that I already knew what honji suijaku is, lmao), stamping my goshuinchō, introducing me to Shinnyokai, and letting me take a piece of him home with me.

So while I have many omamori, that's the one that I really treasure most. There's really no other like it, and I know that a man literally died to give it to me.

That's heavy, y'know?

And while I didn't actually get to visit all three shrines, I did actually visit places associated with all three. Hagurosan, obviously, I actually visited. Gassan is attached, actually, to Hijiori Onsen. There's a trail from that onsen to the mountain that yamabushi have used for centuries, and I bathed in the sacred water that flow from that mountain's base. And Dainichibou, obsessed with death and rebirth and attaining immortality, in a way, is at the food of Yudonosan.

So while I haven't given up on doing a true Dewa Sanzan pilgrimage one day, I do actually feel pretty satisfied with what I managed to do while I was there this time. I had some really incredible experiences. Drinking the same healing waters pilgrims have for centuries and communing with nature and praying with yamabushi and visiting a sokushinbutsu and eating some -- god, truly vile pickled mushrooms. lmao

I had a good time and I learned a lot, even a few lessons that I wasn't expecting. So I think it was a really, really valuable trip for me.

I grew!

(...........and then I took a train to Disneyland. lmao)

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 29: Archivist Mina

@justbecauseyoubelievesomething mentioned me in her reblog of this post but I think my thoughts are going to get rambly and OT so I’m making a separate post instead of adding on directly. I love the OP! It’s very interesting and very timely for me.

To start, I’ll say I’m not an archivist. I work in a library and part of my job involves assisting with the library’s digital archive. I helped keep the archive afloat when the position primarily responsible for its upkeep was vacant for 2.5 long (COVID) years, and now I work with the librarian who’s taken over the job, mostly adding items in certain categories to keep everything up to date, rather than, like, overseeing, or making policy decisions, or doing big-picture stuff. Most of what I work with in this sense are born digital items, or items that were created basically simultaneously in identical print and digital formats. I say all this for context so I don’t appear to overstate my expertise, but do make clear my interest!

Further, archives, especially physical archives, are a big topic of conversation in my department right now. We have many, many boxes of the papers of a former Dean, which came to us before the pandemic, and then sat in limbo for, again, about 2 years. The main person working on them both before and after that hiatus was a student, who has since graduated. Now that we’ve gotten word we might be getting the complete papers of another person, the sense of urgency around this first set of papers has increased. Relevant context here (yes, this the OT part is getting more OT): the papers were not organized by the person who created them. As far as we can tell, he died unexpectedly, and his family packed up his office. Then, owing to some confusion re: which library the papers were meant for, they sat in the wrong one for years. Afaik that library didn’t reorganize them or do anything with them at all, but at any rate their current organization is simultaneously long-standing and arbitrary. It’s not sacred, it’s not related in any way to the person’s wishes for his papers--how they were to be presented, etc.--but at the same time, the papers have been organized like this for a long time, and who is to say that a new organizational scheme would be better? Like, we are going to make changes to some degree, but there is an instinct to preserve the boxes as much as possible in the arrangement we were given.

Again, to be clear about my expertise here, I’m working on this project in a fairly limited worker-bee capacity. I’m not in charge, more taking it as a learning opportunity. At the same time, even the simplest tasks, in theory, become much less simple when you actually open a box and deal with the physical materials.

The ultimate goal is to make the materials usable for researchers. They should be organized in such a way that one can take a clean, neat, curated list of items and know what the items are and where to find them, and understand why certain items are with other items within each folder, and within each box.

So. To get back to Dracula, my point with all of this is: there is a lot of information present in the organization of materials. They can be basically useless, or extremely helpful, depending on what structure (or lack of structure) underlies their arrangement.

That’s what Mina is experiencing. She has a lot of information, and she’s getting more and more all the time, but it’s siloed and disorganized. That’s not even going into the multiple formats, and the inaccessibility of shorthand or phonograph records, or that most of her documents exist only in one copy (before she gets her hands on them of course). Further, putting everything together in one place is only so helpful if you have to read it all separately. Then you’d have all the pieces of the puzzle, but they wouldn’t fit together into a clear picture. As she says today (9/29), “In this matter dates are everything, and I think that if we get all our material ready, and have every item put in chronological order, we shall have done much.”

In organizing the Dean’s papers, it’s more important to put like with like: all his correspondence with Justice X, all his writings on topic Y. For Mina, everything is already arranged like-with-like, in a way: all of Seward’s diary recordings, all of Jonathan’s diary entries, all of Lucy’s correspondence and writings, etc. What she needs is to cut up all the bits, as it were, and arrange them in the order in which they were created, to turn them into a chronological narrative. What was happening simultaneously to what? And what can a chronological story tell her and her friends about the Count’s movements and his ultimate plan? As Jonathan says (9/29) when he looks over Dracula’s lawyer’s papers, “It gave me almost a turn to see again one of the letters which I had seen on the Count's table before I knew of his diabolical plans. Everything had been carefully thought out, and done systematically and with precision. He seemed to have been prepared for every obstacle which might be placed by accident in the way of his intentions being carried out. To use an Americanism, he had "taken no chances," and the absolute accuracy with which his instructions were fulfilled, was simply the logical result of his care.” Only by seeing the papers in the right context can he begin to understand them, and then much becomes exquisitely clear.

What’s especially interesting to me is that Stoker’s arrangement of Dracula is NOT chronological. But the Dracula Daily experience IS. Many people have commented on how that changes the experience. In a way, it brings clarity, as Mina hoped it would. It takes out much of the mystery of the narrative. But, because we’re ALSO reading in real time, it ups the suspense.

For example, if you read about the Demeter’s arrival in Whitby first, you would probably be, yes, horrified, but also confused. Why is the ship behaving oddly? Oh, Dracula must have been here, but, why did the Captain die as he did? How did these events play out? The eventual inclusion of the Captain’s log entries provides answers. NOW it makes sense. NOW we see the previous events in a different life. We have the ending already, so there’s not much suspense in the logs. They’re just a quick summary, in a way, that fills in previously puzzling blanks.

In the Dracula Daily order, of course, there is no mystery. We hear the Count is going to England on a ship, we hear about his journey on the ship, we watch the ship come ashore. The ship in Whitby harbor acts as we expect it to act. The sight on board is horrific but exactly what we anticipated. The SUSPENSE, though, throughout the tail is much higher. The Captain’s story is parceled out day by day. We experience the exact pace at which the Count stalks his prey, the agonizing slowness with which the Captain comes to understand what is happening. His story ends in a semi-cliffhanger, his death inevitable, but not yet seen. And then more waiting until the full horror is revealed and that inevitable ending confirmed.

In some ways, I’ve felt that the daily reading is closer to experiencing what the characters do, because my pace is a reader is the same as their pace in their lives. But, except for the early days of Jonathan’s diary standing alone, I have a vastly different perspective in another critical way: I see everyone’s experiences at once. The experience of Dracula for the characters in Dracula is one of confusion and mystery. Much that puzzles them is clear from the start to me. I have the ability to put the different narratives together, including the newspapers clippings and other context-giving documents, without any effort at all. I see the larger picture.

That’s what Mina is trying to give her friends: a coherent, big picture view. As I and other Dracula Daily-ers know, this makes a big difference and greatly increases one’s clarity, even if nothing (short of binging the whole story from the perspective of the aftermath) could lessen the suspense of building terror.

OP’s point was more about the format of the archived work: how Mina makes the shorthand diaries and the phonograph accessible by making them into typewritten sheets of paper, and increases their availability by making copies. I think it’s a very interesting point that she not just incidentally but perhaps PURPOSEFULLY also flattens the works by this process. Much of what made them unique artifacts is gone: Jonathan’s handwriting, Seward’s voice. Information you might glean from their way of preserving their thoughts is gone. It’s really important, actually, that Jonathan wrote in shorthand! That’s (possibly) how he evaded having his secret, written thoughts and plans read by Dracula. It’s also something he shared with his now-wife; I got the distinct impression from Mina that shorthand is something special between them. And then of course, there’s the special, unique, un-duplicatable nature of the original-as-original. The little cylinders, neatly arranged, that Mina carefully describes. The diary that Jonathan touched with his own hands, that he kept on his person through a harrowing journey, that he offered to Mina and she carefully sealed with her wedding ring on the day they married. If Jonathan were a real person, and his diary were in a library somewhere, how many Dracula Daily readers would like the opportunity to go and visit it, perhaps gently page through it? Even though, or perhaps especially because, we came to read it most recently and/or first in emails sent to our computers and phones? Yes, there would be more information there: did his hand shake when he wrote such-and-such an entry? Did his handwriting change over time? But there’s also emotion. It’s a meaningful object. This is why we simultaneously digitize old, rare books and keep them safely in special collections within libraries or archival spaces, instead of just throwing them away when we’ve got our e-copy all set.

Tl;dr on this last point, I 100% agree with OP. Mina is an extremely practical person who does not hesitate to open her own and her husband’s private writings to public, or at least group, scrutiny if doing so serves a greater purpose: destroying the Evil that threatens her city, almost killed her husband, did kill her close friend. But she’s also the woman who sealed her husband’s diary with her wedding ring. I don’t think she would want Van Helsing, Seward, Arthur pawing through it, taking in at length all of the little details that make this a unique and personal object. This is the compromise she offers Seward as well: no one will hear your heart beat, but they will read your story presented in a dispassionate and neutral format in order to glean information from it.

To tie the two points together: her ‘Dracula archives’ are created for a specific purpose and this is apparent in BOTH the format she chooses for them AND the organization. She wants to destroy Dracula. So, she puts together all the known facts into one collection: chronologically arranged, type-written, mostly duplicate copies. As a result, the overarching story is as clear as possible, facts are consistently emphasized over emotion, and distracting and/or personal details are stripped.

One could say that this last is a coincidence, that this is a loss she’s willing to live with to increase accessibility. This is the case with, for example, adding transcriptions to audio and video files online, something else I’m working on currently and coincidentally had a long discussion about today. Obviously, transcriptions increase accessibility, allowing people who can’t hear to gain access to the content being preserved. They can also provide additional information, like clarifying an unknown or hard to understand word. And they’re more easily searchable. Finally, the transcript is another copy of the item: should the original become corrupted or lost, or the means to play it become obsolete, you still have the transcript. The best way to preserve anything is to have multiple copies in multiple places, and, if possible, multiple formats. But transcriptions aren’t perfect: you lose tone of voice, you lose the visual aspect even if some parts are described in addition to dialogue transcription--plus, even the most faithful transcription does involve some degree of ‘editing,’ i.e. the transcriber making choices about just what that unclear word was or how to split up paragraphs or how to present or format the transcription.

But I don’t think these are concerns of Mina’s. Again, OP’s point is fascinating: to her, these are all pros. She IS an editor, she IS making conscious choices about format and organization, and she LIKES the consequences of these choices, even when they involve, in a sense, loss.

(All of this is assuming she isn’t actively cutting out sections of the diary, which I suppose she could be, but I don’t see any particular evidence of that. She keeps many details she could have cut for privacy reasons, so, why would she cut other things? It makes more sense to me to say that the missing/implied parts, like more concrete evidence that Jonathan was fed upon, are missing because the original writer was not able or willing to include them. Also, personally, I find this, the possibility of Mina censoring content specifically, an uninteresting question simply because--well this is a novel, it’s not real, so if she “edited” out a portion it truly does not exist. So it’s a hypothetical that is impossible to spin out very far. It just becomes purely speculative at that point.)

[unmeiokaemasu]

like I’m notorious for restarting games cuz it’s the most fun for me when the *potential* is all still there, I can level units build my base spend time and resources the best way etc, and it makes it hard for me to finish games.

but I think it’s really be awesome if there were a hard reset on all feh units. like I’m not saying this is the solution to power creep it’s just what I personally wish would happen. everyone just has traditional fe weapons (iron>steel>silver sword etc, wind>elwind etc), no one has canto bcs these maps are tiny, a select few have draw back or shove, and there’re only a small handful of specials. Units still have their own stats but they don’t vary so wildly. (Obs like brave units keep brave weapons and legendary/mythical get a bit of a stat boost or cool ability etc, there are exceptions but you get the picture)

THEN cooler abilities gradually get trickled in, not with new units but as expendable resources, so you can choose which get to unlock cooler shit. You can absolutely build your regular unit to be as cool as a mythic but you really need to invest in that unit, meanwhile all your other favs are still relatively viable. Weapon forge, sacred seals, ascendant florets etc still on the table, just limited. Also yes people who want to can spend time figuring out how to build the most broken team and will be rewarded for it, it’ll just take time and resources. But it’ll be fun bcs the units didn’t arrive broken, the players figured out how to get the skills to interact.

Then obs the reason you want to summon new units is that they always provide resources. Merging is still a thing but instead of inheritable skills (bcs each unit has their own skill tree) you get valuable, like, smithing stones or something that unlocks those new skills. The feather system is fine for promotions, more feathers.

Anyway I’m obs not reinventing the wheel here, I’m just saying I wish this’s happen now. You keep all your units but they all get reset. Longer-time players get more starter resources, but they e got bigger libraries of units to spend them on and there’re caps on each unit so it’s fun to receive but doesn’t result in older players dominating the new scene. But I can’t imagine everyone being on board with that, and I can even sympathize if right now you just have your dream team that you’re very attached to.

Maybe intsys can just make a new feh mobile game…among the scourge of gacha games feh actually has fun puzzle mechanics, or, well, did, before so much power creep, I like that it actually used fe-style grid-based gameplay, and I wouldn’t want that changed.

Or maybe I should try harder to stop playing this seeing as it is a gacha game :’)

[ancat-dubh]

been a bit quiet with thinking aloud about practice lately. instead I’ve been taking a lot of brief, private notes, letting myself coalesce some shit as I prepare to move away from my holy grounds in a month’s time. it’s been a big, Profound, insanely hard year – big breakup, bad health shit, lot of loss and grief alongside crisis in-community mh work – and though I do actually feel like I’m hitting a huge new life chapter (new career! healing trauma! having great sex!), I’ve kinda just been taking it in.

the place has been showing up for me like it knows I’m going. I’ve gotten abrupt, clarifying ideas about powers I’ve worked alongside for a while; a few weeks back I did my first piece of spellwork in months and months (also first proper foray into sex magic which! both #healing and very, very fun); the locals have been rearing their heads even as the woods get quieter with the dark closing in.

the fox is one such local and always has this eerie, profoundly supernatural quality that tbh I nearly didn’t take a picture of him just because what’s there to capture – but he’s gorgeous/seemed amenable and I’m acutely aware of wanting to document my remaining time here so yk. I’ve gotten to know a few foxes in my sacred space, including a very pushy young dog-fox who’s made it his business to keep me on my toes and a more gracious older mother who comes and goes from the Bronze Age barrow, but this one’s always been the most Otherworldly TM. he sometimes appears right after I lay offerings for the hollow beech that’s the rough centre of concentrated magical energy in the woods and eats or drinks his fill.

on Samhain I sat out in the woods at night just before the rain, back to a favourite oak, to do my annual tarot reading; even though it’s the edge of his territory I started to shuffle and suddenly there he was, looming out of the dark and peering at me so close I could’ve touched him. the next time I saw him was the other week, lapping buttermilk off the beech roots right after I’d left some for the Neighbours. when he was done he came up and gazed at me. as someone raised in woods with scarier predators I’m not quite afraid of him but I am, tbh, always sort of background giddy-terrified he’s just about to speak.

[everythingeverywheresblog]

Stars and Migraines - Chapter one

Chapter one

Sydney's POV

“Sydney, stop messing around with your phone and go get your brother from upstairs.”  It’s insane how one thing that miraculously happens in your life can have the ability to alter your emotions for worse, or in my case, better. For example, any other day, under any other circumstances, my mom’s little comment about messing around with my phone after I’d explained to her that I was in fact working, would drive me insane. Because one thinks that after turning 24, parents would hop off our backs and focus on their underage children or God forbid, themselves.

But that’s almost never the case.

Today is different, though. Today I got news that trump every misfortune that may or may not cross my path and I will not let anyone, let alone my mom, ruin this day.

So without a word, I get up from the barcalounger chair, shove my phone into my pocket and walk up the stairs to my old room/ my brother’s temporary room. The door is wide open and Ayrton is face down on the mattress, arms and legs splayed on the surface with his fingers tightly gripping his phone. Fortunately my bedroom has stayed the same and in the few weeks that Ayrton is forced to spend here due to his own room getting remodeled, he hasn’t moved anything.

“Mom wants you downstairs.”

Ayrton doesn’t move. I’m not sure he’s even breathing so I get closer to him to get a better look. His hair is disheveled, his clothes are baggy, worn out and stinky—that’s what he gets for being a teenager. “Ayrton?” I poke him with my finger, slightly scared that he would infect it.

“Leave me alone.” The words come out muffled since his head is stuck between two pillows and he doesn’t move it to speak clearly.

“Ah, you’re alive. Come on, it’s dinner time.” All he comes up with for an answer is a tortured groan and some whispered words that I don't care enough to hear. "Ayrton." My finger jabs his ribs once more before I decide to give up with getting him to come eat dinner.

I am about to turn around and leave when his phone gets a notification. Suddenly my brother jumps up from his laying position and in a matter of seconds is standing next to the bed, with his device stuck to his face. Eyes wide, mouth agape and he's barely even taking in breaths.

"Ayrton, what the he-"

"SHH!"

Nothing about what he's doing is normal or makes any sort of sense yet I just shrug my shoulders and wait for him to be done reading whatever he got sent. At the end of the day, that's Ayrton.

Ever he was a little boy, he'd either be dead silent or running around the house screaming and laughing.

Until he discovered karting.

That's when he found the right outlet for all that pent up energy of his.

"Okay, so Miles just told me that Dante told Jake who told him that Gina told Haley whose brother--that's a friend of Dante's--overheard that she is into race car drivers. Dante is saying that Gina doesn't even know what race car driving is let alone that people can actually do that, but even if that's true I can easily get her to come with me to Jake's part and if not, then... I don't know, maybe convince her to dance?"

Ayrton looks at me with such hope and innocence in his eyes that fill my heart. He can be so cute and emotional when he wants to, and it brings me warmth to think that nothing stupid like boys don't cry has gotten into his age.

"Who the fuck is Miles?"

Ayrton's face falls into a frown and he shakes his head before typing away at his phone.

"Tell mom I'll be down in a second."

---

"Food was great mom, thank you."

"Oh, sush. It's only once in a year that my daughter remembers to visit me."

I roll my eyes at her attempt to make me feel bad but keep my mouth shut in order to keep enjoying the supposedly sacred time I get to spend with my family.

Traveling all around the world as a profession is one of the greatest gifts of my life, but it takes some things away. Like watching my brother grow and experiencing first hand all of his successes instead of receiving pictures of him with his new trophy.

Or seeing my parents. I rarely get to do that anymore.

"Come on, Donna," my father interject. "let's just enjoy having her here. You know how her job works."

I smile at my father. Always ever the problem-solver. He listens, he understands and he respects everyone. My dad was the first person who told me to go for it with my passion, to risk, to take chances and if that hadn't worked, he'd be the first to open his arms and welcome me back with a shoulder to cry on.

Thankfully, everything went well and now he's the shoulder I sleep on, on holidays that I am forced to join due to my mother's rules; even if I lack necessary hours of sleep, I have to attend the important days.

As it's this one. Christmas day, one of my favorite holidays--no, scratch that. My favorite holiday.

Everything is just so jolly, so cozy and relaxing. Decorations cover the city, snow doesn't allow us to leave the house so we sit around the fireplace and watch silly Christmas movies and eat tons of chocolate candies and popcorn.

It's just magical.

"So, what were the big news Syd?" My dad speak up and immediately my belly gets excitement butterflies and my lips form the biggest smile on my face at the mention of my news.

"Well," I take a deep breath. "I'm leaving George."

My mother's eyes open wide and her eyebrows crease. "Williams fired you?" Her voice was harsh and her look judgmental, but my smile did not waver.

"Nope." I looked at my dad. "McLaren wants me."

[jamespotterthefirst]

Mother and Son (Headcanons)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Word count: 840

Premise: She spends some rare quality time with her son (Headcanons)

Author’s Note: Thank you to the beautiful @headoverheelsforramsey​ for requesting this. Sorry it took me this long to post!

Ethan gets them tickets to a trampoline park because if they’re going to bounce off the walls, he’d rather they do it away from all the glass decoration and picture frames they have around the house

He wishes that by “them” he meant Jonah and his sisters.

Instead, he means Jonah and his mother, who has all the energy necessary to keep up with the kid

Lilac and Jonah arrive at the trampoline park and immediately get to work.

They laugh and send Ethan tons of videos and pictures, each sillier than the previous one

An hour in, Jonah informs his mother that there is no way she can jump higher than him. (Because that’s true right? There’s no possible way a person his mother’s age can beat a ten year old kid who’s made it his sole mission to be the best at trampoline jumping)

“Ha!” his Mom laughs when she jumps almost as high as him

Jonah cannot believe his eyes. “You’re just as old as Dad and he can’t jump as high as me. Not even close. It’s kinda sad.”

“Just as old?”

Lilac feigns offense and dives into a nearby pit, aiming a foam block at her son with every intention of missing

“Take that back. Your father is eons older than me.”

Jonah laughs, picking up the foam block and aiming it at his mother. He misses on purpose too because he could never intentionally hurt his mom.

Lilac lets out an exaggerated gasp and gathers as many foam blocks as possible, preparing for what promised to be outright war.

But her pager goes off.

“We have to go to Edenbrook,” Jonah guesses, his voice so deadpan, he sounds a lot like Ethan.

Lilac’s heart hurts a little at how expertly her son hides his disappointment. A result, no doubt, from years of interrupted family outings.

Ethan and Lilac had always been adamant to separate their work from their family life. The time designated to their children was sacred and they fought very hard to keep work from seeping in.

However, now and then, a work emergency pulled one parent (or both) from the kids.

Lilac sighs, kneeling down to eye level with her son. “We can go get a chocolate lava cake after. I promise.”

That cheers him up a little.

When they arrive at Edenbrook, the nurses they pass in the hall fawn over Jonah, as is their custom. Tobias greets him by ruffling his hair and fist bumping him. Dr. McDaniel asks him about school. Harper embraces him and remarks how tall he seems to be getting with each passing day.

“Still want to be a surgeon?” she asks, as she always does.

Jonah nods enthusiastically.

Harper smiles fondly at him and sets up his favorite game, Operation, for him to play while the team meets.

It’s a fun game, but it gets boring after five minutes. It’s way more fun to play against his sister and beating her every time. Plus, it’s pretty funny to hear Dad grumbling in the background about surgeons.

As though sensing his boredom, his Uncle Bryce makes his way into the office, sending a silent greeting toward the team.

Jonah high fives him in greeting. “How did you know I was here?”

“You’re a celebrity, little Ram. You’re all Edenbrook can talk about as soon as you walk through the door.”

(Lilac paged him and begged him to keep her son company in between surgeries because Jonah adores him)

Grinning, they play several rounds, Jonah winning every single one.

It's the best because Uncle Bryce is an actual surgeon and if Jonah can beat him, then he can probably be a great surgeon some day.

“Duty calls,” Bryce says when his pager goes off. “I have to go scrub in.”

“Can I watch your surgery?”

His mother stops talking to her team, addressing Jonah sternly. “No.”

“That's okay, little Ram. Next time I'll teach you how to do surgery on an orange.”

This cheers him up.

Lilac walks over just then, the meeting over. “You two are determined to break my heart.”

“And Dad's.”

Lilac laughs and tickles her son in retribution.

It's too late to go back to the trampoline park by the time the meeting is over.

So Lilac keeps her promise of lava cake, watching her son carefully for any lingering signs of disappointment

Jonah shows none

But then again, the kid is so much like his dad that Lilac is not fully convinced

When they leave the café, the sugar rush is starting to affect her son because he all but hops toward the car

He stops, glances back at Lilac, and gives her the brightest grin

“I love you, Mom.”

He hugs her tightly.

It's all it takes for her to hold back her tears.

Because despite trying to be everything— a wife, a mom, a doctor, a leader— and sometimes feeling like she's doing everything halfway, her son's arms around her are the best reassurance.

“I love you, too, little bunny.”

Note II: Happy Mother’s Day to all who celebrate! And if you don’t, then happy Sunday! (In case no one has told you: I love you and I’m proud of you).

[werewolf-witchboy]

Tokoyami Fumikage X Male Reader

Being A Witch Boy And Dating Tokoyami

WARNINGS: none uwu

Being a witch has nothing to do with your quirk, you just like practicing the dark arts and witchy things.

I'm not going to mention what your quirk is, so you can imagine that you have whatever quirk you want, or you can imagine yourself as someone without a quirk.

💀 Tokoyami had been fascinated with your hobby of witchcraft ever since he met you. He was most fascinated with the fact that your actual quirk has nothing to do with how your witchcraft works.

🕯 He had already thought you were cute before, and he had been in that time of his life where he was starting to question his sexuality a little- but after you showed him your witchy interests, he fell hard for you.

💀 He may be a dark and edgy birb boi, but he's also quite shy and awkward. He probably would have never confronted you about his crush if you hadn't told him your feelings for him first.

🕯 When y'all started dating, literally everyone was like "FINALLY!!" cuz it was super obvious that the two of you were meant for each other.

💀 When it comes to what type of witch you are, i'd say you're a witch of all traits.

-You love dark and spooky things, but you also love pastel colors and nature.

-Your room in the class 1A dorm is most likely full of plants, candels, a variety of antiques and trinkets, and shit that you can't buy at stores until it's around Halloween time.

🕯 Tokoyami likes to ask many questions about all of the different types of things you do, and he actually pays attention and is super interested. You'll even teach him some new things, and show him how to do them himself.

💀 You love Dark Shadow as much as you love Tokoyami himself. Though they're both very different in personality, you find them both charming and adorable (despite them both saying they're not "adorable," they're dark and spoopy lmao).

🕯 He also loves your animal familiar.

-Your familiar rarely comes out of your bedroom. Since you're dating Tokoyami, you allow him in your room (which means a lot more than he probably thinks it does, cuz spaces where witches do their magic and recharging are very sacred to them) so he gets to see your familiar quite often.

💀 It's rare for familiars to show affection to anyone that isn't their bonded witch, but your familiar absolutely loves Tokoyami.

-They'll hop onto his lap immediately as soon as he sits down in your room.

🕯 Both you and Tokoyami thrive in the darkness, so there are often times where you both hang around in your dimly lit room cuddled up together just talking all day (or even sometimes laying there in comfortable silence).

-You'll be in there together for so long that all of your friends will start questioning where you're both at, and not even realize that you're just in your room.

💀 He obviously likes you a whole lot, but he's super bad at saying it with words. He's just shy and bashful. BUT THEN DARK SHADOW EXPOSES HIM LMAO-

-You'll be standing there looking super cute, and Tokoyami will just stare at you and want to say something so badly. Then Dark Shadow appears and is all like "wOw yOu'Re sUpEr hOt" and Tokoyami just dies right there in the very spot he's standing cuz he can't believe that just happened.

🕯 That's another thing- Tokoyami stares at you a LOT. He even did it before y'all started dating, but now he doesn't even try to hide it.

-You barely noticed at first, but once you started noticing how often you catch him staring at you, you can't help but tease him a little.

-You'll stare at him back, directly in the eyes, and he'll get super flustered and embarrassed.

-Then to calm him down and make him feel less embarrassed, you'll giggle at his flustered-ness and give him a lil beak kiss...which just makes him even more flustered.

💀 He's definitely the type who wants to be a total romantic, and speak all poem-like to you, and shower you with praises, ect. BUT he gets so flustered when it comes to affection, and second-guesses himself when it comes to his ideas of showing affection.

-He's scared of coming off too strong, or seeming to clingy, or even not doing enough, so he never really gets the chance to act out any of how he wants to show affection- and to top it all off he can't help but be absolutely smitten every time you give him affection of any sort, and he'll not know how to react to it.

🕯 You never call him out on his shyness or how he reacts to your affection, you're not offended with any way he reacts to you. You think it's super cute how innocent he seems when it comes to all of this, and of course you encourage any time he gets a little bit of confidence to hold your hand or compliment you (without the help of Dark Shadow lol).

💀 His feathers get all ruffled when he's flustered, and OMFG it's too cute. 🥺😭

🕯 Something that he loves so much is when you borrow his clothes. Because for him, it's kind of a way to show affection towards you without being super direct about it.

-So him being like "you're cold? here, wear my sweatshirt" translates to "TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME, KEEP IT FOREVER, I LOVE YOU FJSKDJFHR-"

💀 Don't come @ me- Tokoyami listens to death metal, but he'd totally vibe with something like kpop if you introduced him to it.

-He's definitely a Loona stan.

🕯 Highkey though, now that I think of it- he probably also listens to Joji and Billie Eilish.

-Like, really moody sad boi hours indie music.

-He'd have Will He playing in his headphones, and he'd be all edgy and in his feelings, but he'd also be doing something like baking cookies at the same time lmfao.

-He'd have a playlist named "songs to cry to," but he'd be listening to it while knitting sweaters for puppies or something.

💀 No, you didn't ask me what kind of music that I think Tokoyami listens to, but you got it anyway. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

🕯 If he's at a store, and sees something kinda spooky looking that makes him think of you, he'd quickly get it and think all day of giving it to you, and he'd want to watch you add it to your collection of lil trinkets and antiques.

-....But he'd chicken out so hard I stg.

-This poor baby would rehearse how he'd give it to you in his head over and over again, and then when the time comes to give it to you, he'd get suddenly so tongue-tied and worried if you'd actually like it or not.

-But, of course, you love whatever he gets you every time. Your always super surprised when he gets you something, cuz it's not your birthday or any special day, and you never expect gifts from people.

-Every time you accept a gift from him, you always want to squeal, tackle him, and shower him with kisses- but you resist doing so with all of your being, cuz you know he'd malfunction.

-Instead you very profoundly thank him many times, and give him one especially loving kiss.

-Seeing your extra surprised and happy reaction always relieves him so much, and it makes him want to do it all over again and gift you a whole shop full of trinkets. His lack of hundreds of dollars is the only thing that stops him.

💀 You're the type of person who wears a lot of black, and scatters bright colors here and there within your look. Your style ranges from goth to pastel e-boy.

🕯 You don't like to change other people's styles or tell other people what to wear, but every once in a while, Tokoyami expresses an interest in dressing like you- which you go NUTS over.

-You'll let him borrow your pastel sweaters, and he'll let you put bright colored hairclips in his feathers.

-He now even owns some pastel colored clothing of his own, that you either gifted him or he secretly bought himself at some point.

💀 He used to be shy about changing up his style every once in a while at first. Whenever you'd take pictures of him wearing bright clothes, he'd softly ask you not to show them to any of the others.

-Eventually he became confident enough to go out in public those rare days he'd wear bright colors, and everyone is always super supportive of the different style.

🕯 He had never been in a relationship with another guy before he started dating you.

-He started questioning his sexuality around the time he started high school, but it was never a priority at first because he was more focused on working hard to get into U.A. and thinking about his future being a hero.

-aNd tHeN hE mEt yOu, and now we're here lol.

-ANYWAYS, y'all go to pride parades together.

-Something he isn't shy about is his sexuality, cuz as soon as he realized how he felt about you, he was all in and that was that.

-Y'all go all out for parades with face and body paint, and shirts with your flags on them, and even sometimes bringing signs and flags to hold up and wave around.

-Some of your friends will come with the two of you, whether they're there because they're also lgbtq+ or just because they support it.

-It's the most social the two of you are the entire year, cuz your both introverted lil emos that don't really talk to many people outside of class 1A.

💀 So yeah- I think Tokoyami is highly underrated and I'm extremely soft for him. He's an emo birb boi, what is not to love.

-I believe in emo birb boi supremacy.

-Rise all Tokoyami stans, we shall take over the entire anime world someday.

[dandelionflower]

She tours alone

Marinette had gone to sleep right after finding a hidden path back to the manor, thank you, Culpa the kitty, and woke up feeling refreshed. Since today they were going to be touring the ballrooms, she elected to wear her ‘composers outfit,’ inspired by Nickolas Lafin, an incredible musician who lived in the manor.

Nickolas was primarily a conductor, but he often composed his own symphonies and gavots as well. Despite his incredible work, Lafin wasn’t much of a prominent character in the manor’s history and instead was reported to mainly follow his girlfriend, Anya, around. After Anya drowned, it was said that Nickolas spent all of his free time in the attic, until eventually, the boxes and trunks fell on top of him and killed him instantly.

Marinette had on a long blue coat with black and white music notes dotted along the bottom. Her shirt was crisp and black, matching her pants perfectly. She also had on a pair of rectangular earrings and red bowtie that matched Nickolas’ favorite.

After a quick breakfast where Marinette checked in on Allegra again, Grace picked them up to check out the ballroom. Adrien sidled up to her with his earnest smile and the two walked hand-in-hand next to Alya and Nino.

“Alya seems a bit shaken, is she okay?”

“She’s okay, just had an allergic reaction to the ice cream she got.”

Marinette looked at Alya again. She was leaning heavily into Nino’s side and was giving wary glares at any cup or water container she saw. She’d have to make sure she didn’t get dehydrated.

“...and here is the grand ballroom!” Grace pushed open the doors with a grin. “It’s a bit dusty since we haven’t exactly been hosting any parties lately, but with a little elbow grease it’ll be spectacular!”

Marinette looked at the dark, dusty room. Thick curtains covered the windows, but it allowed for a small sliver of light to illuminate the flecks dancing from the ceiling to the floor. Even in the faint lighting, she could tell that it was beautiful; all pastels and silvers and golds.

“What a dump.” Lila commented to Alix and Kim beside her. “Prince Ali’s ballroom is much better than this waste.”

“Actually,” Grace’s wide smile sharpened into something vengeful, “even in its current state, the Culpa ballroom is still considered one of the most lavish ballrooms in the world. Prince Ali’s ballroom isn’t even ranking.”

“I- ah well, it must have been remodeled since the last ranking.” Lila floundered, and after she looked at Adrien’s sympathetic face, Marinete almost felt bad for her.

Grace was looking casually at her phone. “Seems that the last ranking happened just a few days ago. That would have been when you were in Paris, correct?”

Almost.

“I guess I must have forgotten which ballroom I was thinking of.” Lila shrugged. “There’s been so many.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Grace mumbled with shrewd eyes. She perked back up. “Anyway! I was thinking, as your project for your visit, you can produce a replica of the infamous Ross ball. We can have people working with flowers, costumes, music, and guests.”

The class murmured their agreement already turning to their friends and discussing what they wanted to wear.

“Ooh! Can I wear a suit?” Rose bounced on her toes, hand waving.

“Of course! We have dozens of old clothes that could easily be refitted for you and everyone else! We just need a-”

“Designer!” Nino shouted, pointing down at Marinette’s head (tall people, disgusting). “We’ve got one right here!”

“Great!” Grace didn’t seem surprised at all, even though a teenage designer isn’t someone you meet every day. “Your main job will be refitting and redesigning all the costumes for your friends. That sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great!” Rose’s suit would of course need to be a pink, but a faint floral print on it too would look beautiful. Making it period accurate would be tricky, but the internet had all kinds of references for suits and dresses.

“We’ll need people for all the other tasks I mentioned, but for now just look around the room and check out the closets for anything you may need for the ball.”

The four of them immediately gravitated to the closets at Alya’s behest and Adrien’s adventurous spirit. There were instruments of all kinds and colors; it was like a sculpture and Marinette felt all kinds of inspiration welling up in her.

“Not much in this room.” Alya remarked. “Let’s check the next.”

“I used to really like music.” Adrien said as he followed Nino and Alya out the door. “Still do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Marinette stayed behind, pulling out her phone to take a few pictures. A rustle from behind the cello caught her eye, and she glanced back at the open door. Another rustle, and she committed to it, stepping forwards to investigate.

“Meow.” Culpa was sitting prim on top of a drum. He was looking at the ground then at her like he just noticed another being was in the room.

“Culpa!” Her hands reached out to rub the cat’s ears, fingers vibrating with the feline’s contented purrs. “Hey, kitty. What’re you doing in here?”

Culpa offered no answer aside from leaning further into her hand and purring louder. She’d take it. After a few minutes more of petting, Culpa batted her hand away and moved towards the very back of the room, tucking into a thin passage she hadn’t noticed in the dark. When he realized there wasn’t a presence behind him, he turned around and mewled for her attention.

“Right, right. Coming.” She slipped her phone in her pocket and slipped into the passageway, which was just wide enough for her to stand comfortably in.

She followed Culpa’s flashing blue eyes through the tunnel until she stepped into a wider, well-lit hallway. Unlike the closet or the ballroom, the hall was absolutely pristine. Both of the walls were decorated with portraits, and Marinette took her time inspecting each one.

It was the Culpa family. Each one through the ages until it ended with the image Culpa showed the most attention to; Felix, eyes cold, unseeing on the canvas. Right next to it was a small framed photograph in black and white; Bridgette and Felix, laughing while leaning against each other.

She lifted the picture and smiled down at it. It was much better than the painting; it showed much more emotion. And that dress! Marinette could totally design a dress like that. It would look beautiful in pink.

“It’s a nice picture, isn’t it?” Allegra was standing in a doorway a bit behind her. She hadn’t noticed her come in.

“Yeah, they both look so… so happy. Why wasn’t this room a part of the tour?”

“We didn’t want people touching this part of the manor’s history.” She shrugged, walking forwards. “It just seemed right to keep it separate from the rest of it all.”

“Yeah, I get it.” This place seemed- sacred, in a way. She followed Allegra out of the hall and watched her lock the door.

“How’d you get in there anyway?”

“Oh, I found this cat and he led me through some passageway in the back of a closet.” She pointed over her shoulder to Culpa who… wasn’t there. “And he’s gone. That’s weird.”

“A passageway, huh? That’s cool.”

“I thought so too. Probably wasn’t the smartest idea to just go through it without telling anyone though, huh?”

“Probably not.” Allegra agreed

They walked a while longer before they were back at the ballroom. Alya and Nino were talking near one of the back doors that lead to the closets and looked up just as she walked in.

“Girl! Where have you been? We’ve been looking all over, come on! Adrien’s playing the piano.” Alya grabbed her and dragged her through the hall of closets. When she passed the one with the instruments, she glanced in, trying to catch a glance of the passage to show Alya.

She didn’t see anything at all.

.......

The rest

@merry-madness @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything @goggles-mcgee @grumpy-kitten-vixen @artemisdragona @lookatthestars1 @demonicbusiness @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @vice-artist

[spookierdeer]

spike redesign!! full post, i posted the wip a few days ago. more info under the cut!

sorry if what follows seems a little haphazard, i'm still working on fully forming my thoughts so the notes might be written out messily. still all canon until i say otherwise, though!

spike's actual species of dragon is unknown, twilight recieved his egg by mistake during a school project. the eggs were supposed to be under a stasis spell to keep the mysterious species of bird from hatching while under the young ponies' care, but those type of spells don't work on dragon eggs. i may write about how she actually came to receive this egg one day, but today i want to focus on spike!

i'm not confident my sketch of freshly hatched spike really shows him at the size i wanted to go for, as i imagine dragons are curled up inside the eggs completely and there isn't much space inside there once the dragon has fully formed and is close to hatching. so, spike is a pretty chunky baby and while teenage twilight can cradle him, he's still pretty stout.

in my au, dragons don't all eat crystals or minerals! it's actually pretty rare and most species of dragons enjoy full diets not including rocks or gems at all. however the dragons that do eat minerals often have the flashiest and stunning scale patters (crystals and gems) or the most rough to the touch (usually minerals found in lava beds and other highly sulfuric areas). this isn't mutually exclusive! spike has a bright color palette and pretty smooth scaling, but a mineral eating dragon could have just as bright of colors but feel like harsh sandpaper or a rough, rough cliff face. since spike is raised by ponies and quite enjoys minerals, he's gotten used to soft and silky textures and, though he isn't fully aware of how much his preferences and diet shape his scale texture, prefers his sleek scales to the rougher dragons he's seen.

if a dragon has unwanted roughness or is having trouble shedding scales, they may rub their bodies against harsh stone! for generations, before ponies and dragons new more of each other, there were smoothed out stones found in forests and other areas with low populations. they were considered magical by earth ponies and sometimes sacred! turns out, it was just where a dragon had buffed out some rough scales before the ponies found the place.

if spike were to eat magnetized minerals, would his scales become magnetic? probably if he ate enough! decorate your fridge with his yearly shed scales?

in the image i mention that land born dragon eggs are rough and water born dragon eggs are smooth. yes! that is a thing in my au. will i describe spikes egg here? no <3

twilight is basically a teen mom in my au, though by the time my au takes place spike rarely calls her anything other than her actual name. mostly because he thought his best friend being his mom was weird so his solution was to just call her by her real name instead! briliant, obviously. spike does still have a crush on rarity in his younger years, but it's definitely not anything serious. just a kid who thinks his mom's close friend is very nice and pretty! she's basically an aunt to him (the rest of the mane 6 generally act as his aunts, even rainbow who's married to his adoptive mom) and showed him the wonders of spa days and self care. her and fluttershy would take turns babysitting him when he was too young to follow twilight to school or when she was busy doing work for celestia and she couldn't keep an eye on him. after twilight and rainbow started dating, spike basically had this internalized debate of "ok. twilight is my mom. i love her. rainbow is like family. i love her too. it's still kind of weird that they're dating. why??" and basically came to the conclusion that it is ok to not call rainbow dash "mom" after all. he very bravely confronted rainbow about it when they were alone and she was like "it's ok lil dude" but internally was like "god hes precious" and was never worried about what spike called her anyway.

when rigel wisp comes along spike is basically that meme of "i've only known them for 5 minutes, but if anything happened to them i'd kill everthing in the room and then myself" as soon as he gets to hold them for the first time. he's a little bigger than pictured here, but never gets bigger than 5ft head to tail. he's a great older brother and spoils them rotten! he's not quite as close to the other foals of the mane 6+family, but he does try to help out with babysitting and keeping the foals distracted when needed. he's great at keeping them entertained and if the parents sneak him some extra gems when no ones looking, he's definitely not complaining.

i'm still working on a concrete timeline, but i know for sure spike is around 4 years older than flurry heart. timeline for that is twilight hatches spike's egg, shining armor completes training, eventually gets assigned to princess cadence's protection detail, they fall in love and almost immediately have a love boom that produces flurry heart. not sure if cadence knew twilights family when they were all kids or not, i kind of like it better as a love at first sight thing for her and shining armor. her whole thing is love after all! plus, she's the crown princess of the crystal kingdom and twilights parents are just unicorn astronomers. not sure how they'd meet for play dates, being from two separate kingdoms lmao

i'll probably think of more later, maybe i'll eventually write a fanfic like my friends keep telling me to. maybe i'll just keep adding to my obscenely large family tree of the mane 6 instead!

[jmoriarty-221b]

Ok so this idea was inspired by AUs where Tim Drake is a member of the Addams family and thus this cute idea was born

Ok so, Tim’s parents still travel a lot but instead of leaving him alone in a big empty manor they leave him with his aunt and uncle Morticia and Gomez Addams

And Tim is a weird little kid who grows up without fear of the dark figures at night because the boogeyman is actually a pretty nice fellow who was very touched when Tiny Tim gave them a drawing of themselves, the monster in the closet actually gives great fashion advice as well as providing the perfect clothes for playing dress up, and the monsters under his bed are great storytellers and the shadow man gives Tim great advice on how to hide and use shadows to his advantage, etc.

The point is that Timmy grows up under the care of the Addams when his parents have to leave on long business trips or excavation sites and as such, is exposed to Gomez’s great appreciation of swordsmanship and fencing, and the haunted suits of armors are always great at comparing which kind of swords are the best in which kind of combat as well as the the importance of craftsmanship when in relation to having a reliable sword

And then one day Timmy watches the movie ‘The Legend of Zorro’ and becomes absolutely obsessed with learning how to use a sword and fight with it in the way only little kids can become obsessed with something they find completely cool, and Gomez is so excited to be teaching Tim everything he knows and they work together to craft Timmy his very own mini rapier for learning how to fence (swords are heavier so Tim learns those from Gomez when he’s older and can parry more weight)

And Tim becomes very Focused and Serious on learning how to fence and he’s very excited when he manages to finally best his uncle in a fencing duel (not as excited as Gomez tho, “MY CHILD SHALL BECOME THE BEST SWORDSMAN YET MY LOVE, DID YOU SEE HIS TECHNIQUE, HAD I BEEN SLOWER HE WOULD’VE RIPPED OPEN MY THROAT IN ONE SWIPE, I’M SO PROUD” “Our child dear”)

And then the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ comes out and both Tim and Gomez are super fans (as a whole the family’s favorite movies are this one as well as the Legend of Zorro because 1. Revenge is achieved to the improvement of the main character’s well being and 2. The Aesthetic) and Tim just focuses on getting the hang of swords now with Gomez being more than happy to help his darling nephew

So years pass and Tim’s parents have finished one of their most taxing excavation digs so they return to Gotham and Tim has to return too (for the purposes of this AU Janet and Jack actually do give a fuck about their son so they would call him every other night when they’re away and if they can’t then at the very least they would call Tim once a week; they also call Morticia and Gomez at least once a week to check on how Tim is doing and they were also very happy to know that Tim has taken a liking to swords so they try to bring new types of weapons or literature related to weapons from the culture of their latest excavation so Tim can learn how different types of swords are wielded all around the world)

But anyway, Tim is going back to Gotham so he and Gomez work on creating a new sword for him with the family motto carved on the blade “Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc” which translates to “We Gladly Feast on Those Who Would Subdue Us” which is metal as fuck so yeah, and this sword is super durable and strong, inspired by a katana’s durability and a rapier’s gracefulness with a blade that is such a dark purple that it looks black like obsidian and the inscription of the family motto is carved in letters that are ruby red with a black hilt where an image of a drake is engraved in the same ruby red as the family motto (basically it is a Very Deadly Sword that is also Very Pretty with a dark aesthetic)

So Tim gets back to Gotham and one day he’s watching the news and sees The Batman saving the day and what not and sees Robin do a quadruple back flip and figures out their identities and decides that he wants to meet them at some point while on his nightly photography sessions of Gotham architecture; and if he manages to snap a couple of shots of Gotham’s heroes sometimes then that’s a bonus but Tim is mostly focused on capturing the essence of Gotham city (at this point in time when Tim moves back to Gotham he physically looks like 10-12 year old; he did meet Dick at the circus when he looked like he was 4 years old but for the purposes of the timeline Tim, as an Addams, can choose to remain at any age he desires for as long as he wants so while he did appear to be 4 years old at the circus, he had been alive for a couple of years more at this point, this also explains how he can master swords and fencing while physically looking like a 10 year old because he has been practicing for years as well as why he remembers Dick from that night at the circus)

So the timeline continues with Tim figuring out that the Bats are actually his neighbors but instead of staying away from the Waynes, he decides to go ask his parents if he can stay with the neighbors whenever they have to stay later than usual at the company or have to take a short business travel and they talk with Bruce about it and he agrees to take care of Tim, so now Tim has an in to befriend the Waynes and helps smooth out the edges of Dick and Bruce’s relationship so Bruce doesn’t fire Dick from Robin, but rather they talk about their feelings for once and Dick decides he wants to create his own superhero identity and Bruce supports his decision (Tim may or may not have had to talk about how his family happened to be very open about their feelings and worry for one another and how much closer they are due to talking to each other and resolving conflict; Alfred may or may not have been 100% behind Tim every time he made such a conversation) also, Tim is basically a trial run for Dick on becoming a big brother for when Jason arrives

One time Tim asks Dick if he knows how to fence which Dick can’t really answer because technically he knows how to fight with a sword but that’s for vigilante purposes which his civilian self isn’t supposed to know so Dick says that he doesn’t and asks Tim why he wanted to know, Tim proceeds to talk about how his favorite masked hero uses a sword to fight injustice and he has a black cape and a black horse and Bruce comes into the living room they’re in in the middle of Tim’s rambling about his favorite hero using a sword and is Concerned for a hot minute until Tim finishes the rant by saying “. . . and that’s why I like his movie so much, have you seen the Legend of Zorro?” (Cue relief for both Dick and Bruce because for all that they scrambled to put a name to the hero Tim was describing they couldn’t come up with one and were considering the possibility of a new player in the vigilante scene) so then Tim asks Mr. Bruce if he knows how to fence and Bruce says yes and asks if Tim would like to learn cue the “Oh, my uncle taught me how to fence a few years ago and when I lived with them we had a duel at least once a week, it was very fun so I was just wondering if you knew so we could practice if you want to Mr. Bruce”

Dick is 100% on board with this because the idea of Tiny Tim and 6’1” Bruce fencing is hilarious in his mind, Alfred is there to supervise and both Tim and Bruce are provided with the appropriate fencing equipment and protection; Bruce starts off slow and is surprised when Tim manages to beat him before starting to enjoy fencing with someone who can surprisingly keep up with him (Dick is taking pictures because the height difference is just too cute to be ignored and Tiny Tim is adorable in his own mini fencing equipment)

Whenever his parents do have to leave for extended periods of time (any company trip that takes more than 3-5 days qualifies as this) Tim stays with his aunt and uncle, thus starting a fun tradition of having spontaneous fencing duels with his uncle Gomez, basically if one of them is in the library then the other will shout ‘En-garde’ while throwing a sabre towards the other person and engaging in a quick duel; basically, if Tim is reading about the latest poisonous plants produced by Poison Ivy and annotating his research in order to get an idea of what would be a nice gift for his aunt Morticia and Gomez walks into the library then Gomez will grab two of the sabres they have on the wall for this exact purpose while shouting ‘en-garde’ before throwing a sabre at Tim and engaging in a duel, same goes for Tim, it’s almost instinct to the point that Tim has to hold himself back from doing exactly this whenever he sees Bruce in the library of Wayne Manor

Later on, when Jason is already adopted into the Wayne family, Tim still comes over and makes it his sacred mission to teach Jason the art of swords so he has another fencing buddy because “Mr. Bruce isn’t always here and I have decided that we will be friends and you’re pretty cool but knowing how to fight with a sword just ups your coolness level ya know?” So now Jason has smol Tim teaching him how to fence and it’s pretty fun to be able to do a taxing physical activity outside of being Robin with a friend, when Jason gets the hang of fencing Tim decides that he must now advance to the next level: sword fighting (Alfred is always there to supervise and give tips and pointers because he also knows how to fence but chooses to stay in the sidelines and let the young masters have their fun)

The problem with this is that, while the Waynes do have sabres for fencing, they don’t have swords, at least not in their civilian selves, so Tim decides to bring his own swords to teach Jason how to sword fight, Alfred is the first to see Tim’s very own special sword and is both impressed at the craftsmanship and concerned as to why a child has a sword, Jason thinks Tim’s sword is the coolest he has ever seen and Tim is happy to talk about how he made it himself with his uncle’s help when he finally learned all about sword fighting and promises Jason that they can make him his own cool sword when he learns how to sword fight too, Dick also thinks that the sword is a little concerning for a kid to have but he also wants his own cool sword and so now he insists Bruce has to teach him how to sword fight because Tim said he’s not allowed to have his own sword until he learns how to sword fight, Bruce is baffled as to why Tim has a sword, impressed at Tim’s skills in craftsmanship, and a little Concerned as to why Tim’s sword has that Latin inscription on the blade (no Tim, knowing that “we feast in those who would subdue us” is your family motto doesn’t calm me down yet it explains a lot about your mother)

By the time Damian comes along to the family he is very interested in where Jason and Dick got their Very Cool swords from, his father also has one and he wants to have his own Very Cool Sword too, thank you very much, and Tim visits them when Damian is still settling in and asks his customary question of if he knows how to use fence and gets an affirmative answer he asks Bruce if it would be ok for him and Damian to have a fencing duel, Bruce explains the rules to Damian and makes sure that Alfred, Dick, Jason and him are present in order to keep Damian from maiming/killing Tim

The duel does get a little out of hand as Damian gauges that Tim is more skilled than he previously thought so he stops holding back, Tim is positively grinning at this since he always has to hold back with the Waynes in a way that he doesn’t with Uncle Gomez because while an Addams won’t die from a stab to the heart, the same can’t be said for anyone else; the duel ends with Tim winning because he has more experience than Damian but he is positive beaming at how awesome Damian was and how these duels could become a weekly thing before they transition to swords and once Dames graduates from swords he can design his very own sword with Tim’s help as a sort of graduation present for learning how to sword fight and he’s sure that it won’t take too long for Damian to master swordsmanship because he’s basically a natural already and very skilled and this duel was so much fun Damian we have to do this again sometime oh my gosh I want to teach you everything I know it’s gonna be so much fun

And Damian, a poor baby, was mad at having lost to Tim but then Tim hits him with all this excitement and smiles and it’s the promise of getting his own Very Cool Sword is what gets him to agree to learn from Tim, it’s not that he feels warm at getting compliments from someone who also likes swords and knows what he’s doing in a fight, he definitely doesn’t find Tim cool at all, he’s just making use of a resource and he will learn everything Tim has to offer and become better than both Grayson and Todd, that’s all (that’s not all because it turns out that Damian is the younger brother Tim never had and he takes Dami under his wing and helps him adjust to a life outside the League of Assassins and how to find hobbies to enjoy; Damian won’t admit it but he is also Very Attached in to Timothy and feels like he won’t be judged for his past with him and he is also a fellow sword enthusiast so yeah)

Tim decides to do the same thing to Damian and initiating a quick fencing duel whenever he sees that Damian is in the gardens (no fencing inside the Manor on pain of Alfred’s eyebrow of disappointment); this helps Damian with the transition of learning to have fun and also learn to realize that not everybody is an enemy, it also helps keep up his training and burn some energy whenever he gets restless and helps him bond with Tim more

The idea was that Tim and Uncle Gomez would surprise each other with spontaneous fencing duels by shouting ‘en-garde’ at the other person whenever they find one another in the library, and now it turned into a fluff AU where Tim isn’t Robin but he’s still a family friend to the Waynes and an Addams and helps bring the family closer through his love of swords because yes

[writingsfromhome]

Water under the Bridge (Josslyn II)

A/N: Okay! Here it is!!!! This was fun and made my heart hurt a little but maybe I’m just being emotional. And can you guys believe it’s been over a year since I posted Josslyn?? Where has the time gone?? I don’t think we’re on the sacred timeline anymore........Anyway thank you anon who suggested this storyline, and hope y’all enjoy! <3

Josslyn (Original)

------

We’re going to have the best weekends evr, Regan texts me even though she’s just in the other room. Schedules were released for our summer semester and Regan and I had managed to get Fridays off. Summer was going to be so fun, and after two years doing college together we were experts at managing our workload to have fun on the weekends--even if that meant sacrificing a few nights’ sleep.

We’ll make summer our bitch, I text back. I hear a chuckle from her room.

Help me pick out a fit? she texts. I want to tell her Adam would love her in whatever, but I head to her room instead and watch her try on a dozen outfits before settling on the second. I tease her about Adam--they were going steady since first year, but she still got so nervous about him sometimes. Adam’s college was a train ride away so he would come down at least one weekend a month.

As for my own love life, there’d been no one steady. I did the whole hooking up and dating scene in first year but I was romantically burnt out by second. Nowadays, I could go home with someone if I chose to, but I also didn’t mind if I didn’t. My active endeavor to find a boyfriend had stopped when I realized I was trying to fill a gap. Instead, I was learning to be happy on my own.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Regan asks. She was taking the train to Adam’s college and staying with him, there was this big start-of-summer party and she’d been trying to convince me for weeks.

“I don’t feel like being a third wheel,” I tell her honestly.

“You don’t have to!” She goes over her one argument again. “Gaelle’s roommate isn’t even back until next week so she has a spare room! She said you should come. Plus,” she ties her hair up, “it’s the weekend before the semester starts so have some fun.”

I make a noise, and she turns to look at me, totally judging me. It makes me laugh. “That’s why my version of fun is to.binge Netflix and-”

“Y/N!” She groans.

“Fine! I’ll go.”

Two words that would change everything.

***

By the time we get to the campus, Regan and I had come up with a dozen things we could potentially do this summer. I’m high on excitement as we meet up with Gaelle, and the three of us head to Adam’s place.

The sun is almost set by the time we leave, most of the sky is dark but a streak of orange stays stubbornly on the horizon. I pause to take pictures before we’re rushing off.

We approach the frat house--if you could call it that. It was half glass with a very modern structure. The greek symbol on the side of the house was the only indicator it wasn’t a millionaire’s summer-house.

“Since when did frat houses get so modern?” I ask. “This is...nice.”

“Wait ‘til you see inside,” Adam says. And he was right, even the drinks were fancier with their own guy behind the bar...although he was taking the occasional shot and getting progressively drunk.

We settle in an area close to the music and get swept up into the party atmosphere. Some people were beyond drunk already and I enjoyed the slight buzz of the drink in my hand. The views from inside with floor-to-ceiling windows were amazing.

Pretty soon, Adam and Regan break off. We move towards the centre of the party where the typical party shenanigans were happening. We tip back our drinks and pretty soon I’m straddling the line between tipsy and drunk. I find a cute boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes and makeout with him until he gets too handsy.

“Ugh!” I give him one last shove and look for Gaelle but I’d lost her too. I search for a bathroom but they’re either occupied or have a lineup. This was a huge ass house, one of the bedrooms had to have one.

I open the first door to shouting.

“It’s called locking the door!” I shout drunkenly as I close it. The next room actually is locked, and the next one isn’t but I wish it was. “Eugh.”

I climb up to the topmost level, three doors--one was locked with the sound of people inside and the second is a bathroom. I was grateful people hadn’t made it up this far.

As I wash up, and touch up the mascara that was crusting under my eyes the door shakes as someone bangs on it from the other side.

“Dip! What the fuck are you doing in there? Everyone’s waiting for you!”

My heart pounds at the sudden noise and the deep voice demanding me to open up. The rush of adrenaline sobers me for a moment as I rush to open the door, “Sorry I didn’t realise anyone was...waiting.”

My words slow down and freeze altogether as I realise the fist banging on the door belonged to...him. Harry. He seems just as surprised as me, straightening up before a smile slowly inches across his face, it was almost sweet bordering on predatory. “Y/N!”

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. There was a lot of history and also not at all. I was also, I decide, too drunk for this. Act sober, this is not the night to run into this fucker.

“You-you’re the last person I was expecting to--excuse me it’s... good to see you! You look--you look as beautiful as ever!”

The events from high school that created this tense history between Harry and I was one of the worst things possible to happen to teenage Y/N. The thing is though, that I’d totally bounced back after I had decided he could fuck himself. Although it was awkward seeing him every day until graduation, it made me tougher. I credit it for making me so casual about relationships now...I stopped expecting so much of the boys I saw.

But leaving high school behind, my world expanded with college, I realised how childish it had all been: I’d had a fling with a player, and he’d played the field...It wasn’t that deep. But seeing him now, It made me aware in a way I wasn’t for a long time. Maybe what they said about distance had some merit. Or maybe I was just buzzed.

“Thanks...I wasn’t expecting you either.”

“You don’t uh, you don’t go here do you? I’ve never seen you around.”

“No,” I look out to the small hall but there’s no one there. The room that was previously locked is slightly ajar carrying male voices. “Adam goes here, I’m...with Regan.”

“Ah, Regan.” He smiles. “You’re still two peas in a pod?”

“Obviously,” The stiffness eases at the mention of my best friend. “So...can I get out of here?”

“Yeah sorry,” he moves aside so I can step into the hall. “Um, we’re playing video games in here room if you...you’re probably not interested.”

I clear my throat, Harry was playing video games when there was a party downstairs? I was curious, that maybe he changed.

“Oh,” he laughs and the dimples I adored make an appearance. “I’ve still got it! My frat just hosts too many parties for me to keep track.”

I guess I said that out loud, I bite my tongue but it really has a life of it’s own. “Did you jussay you still got it?” Oh my god, I was teasing him already. What about Harry made me absolute putty.

“Yeah,” he looks almost bashful. “Uhm, go easy I’m a little nervous here Y/N.”

I don’t know what to say to that, I bite my lip so nothing stupid comes out.

“So you’re just here for the night?” He carries on.

“Staying over with a friend,”

“A fr-” he cuts himself off, pressing his lips together. I realize I’m staring and look away.

“I should go-”

“Wait I-wait uh, how have you been? I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Yea,” I play with the rings on my fingers. “M’good, great. College’s a lot better than high school.”

“It’s not even comparable,” Harry says as he leans his shoulder against the wall. He looks perfectly placed there, and a tipsy voice flashes inappropriate thoughts into my head. “So...any...boyfriends?”

“Um,” that was direct. “No. No, I’m trying out being single...”

“Did something happen?” His expression is still casual but he holds himself rigid.

“No? A girl can’t be single?”

“Sure but someone like you...I’m just surprised.”

“Whatever that means,” I roll my eyes and head past him to go down but he blocks my way.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to offend you...” his voice dies out as I cross my arms. “I also didn’t mean to block you in.”

He steps aside and it feels painful to me but I take the small steps towards the staircase. One part of me--I blame the tipsy stupid part, wants to kiss him just to see if there was still something there, see if anything’s changed. The other was listing all the reasons this was an awful idea, to top it off he was a proven player, has broken my trust once before, and went to a school almost 2 hours from mine.

“Y/N,” Harry’s gruff voice says from behind me. My feet turn without permission and he’s right behind me. “M’sorry. Let me start over.”

I glance at his lips, damn. I can’t meet his eye suddenly. Oh god, I was still pretty tipsy. My mind short-circuits and all I can do is turn back to walk away, down the two sets of stairs, past sweaty bodies and loose limbs. In a great coincidence I bump into Gaelle in what looks like a game room.

“Harry goes here?” I ask--shout at her immediately. Her eyes widen, something passes over her face. “Was no one going to tell me he was going to be here?”

“I’m sorry!” She shouts. “I forgot you two had history!”

“I just wish I was prepared,” I say and she doesn’t hear, I just shake my head when she asks me to repeat. I needed another drink, and Regan. Maybe she could remind me why I stopped caring about him.

As I set off to find her, I’m reminded again how stupid this all was. High school was an ancient dream, we were all different people. I was a different person.

But even though what happened in high school was petty and juvenile, I remember how Harry made me feel. How it felt when we were together--even if it was a joke for him back then, I couldn’t forget the feeling of being seen. Of having arms to fall into, even if I knew they weren’t permanent.

“Regan!” I find her sitting on the dining table while Adam spoke with someone else. Her eyes alight and she waves me over. “I saw him! He...he goes here!”

“Who?” Confusion strings her brows together.

“Harry! From...you know Harry! He was upstairs! I--I didn’t know how to act.”

“Shit Harry! I forgot he went here!”

“You knew?” I throw my hands up.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal! He’s a dick but that was high school?”

“No I-” I sigh. “You’re supposed to tell me he’s still a dick! I saw him and it just got...complicated.”

Regan slides off the table and pulls me into a side hug, we can also hear each other better. “You’re a big kid now, do whatever you want Y/N. Tell him off, kiss his face, take revenge, who the fuck cares? We’re taking the train two hours home after this anyway!”

She had a point. But still...he couldn’t have changed much from the boy who hurt me.

“Adam hangs out with him sometimes,” Regan continues. “Apparently he’s not as bad as high school. He’s...mellowed out.”

“Unreal,” I roll my eyes. Adam was just covering for his friend. We hear a cheer go up behind us and Regan bulges her eyes as two guys help Adam up on his hands to do a keg stand.

Regan swears and heads back to him. I walk away, somehow feeling more and less confused after talking to Regan--do I go back up and see what this leftover emotion was, or ignore it as a drunken need for comfort?

But it’s like the decision is made for me when a hand wraps around my arm as I move from the dining area to the kitchen. I already know it’s him before I turn.

“Can we talk?” he asks. I nod and his grip loosens, slipping down into my palm. “Upstairs?” He motions to the staircase and we climb up the two flights. This time he leads me into one of the locked doors and although I’ve never been here, I’d been in some version of this room before. It’s familiar.

I ignore the ache when he lets go of my hand once we’re inside. I set my drink down on his desk and perch on the window ledge, it’s not big enough to sit on but has enough space for a few of his books and a speaker. His room’s pretty near, but then again Harry was never messy.

“So what do you want-” I start just as he says “Let me get this off my chest.”

“Go ahead,” I cross my arms before uncrossing them, and then crossing them again. With the way he ruffles his hair and crosses to the door and back, he seems just as nervous.

“You can leave at any time. I just want to say I was an asshole, I still kind of am sometimes. And I’m sorry for what I did to you. I know it’s like what--2 years late but all that with...Josslyn and all that...I’m sorry.”

Hearing her name makes me want to grind my teeth but I let the feeling pass. I reach for my drink instead to give me something to do. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Really?” Harry regards me suspiciously. “Because the way you were talking to me out there...”

“You’re just you,” I shrug. “Harry Styles, player and sweet-talker. I was just guarding myself against that.”

“Because of what happened between us?”

“No...maybe. I don’t know. But honestly, I’m not upset with you. It feels like an eternity ago. I guess it’s just self-preservation.”

“I guess,” he echoes. “So where does that leave us? If you’re all self-preserved?”

I eye him but he cracks a smile, he was teasing me. “It doesn’t have to leave us anywhere,” I snort. “We’re water under the bridge Harry...”

“My parents split,” he says suddenly and I’m reeling with the direction he’s taken. I open my mouth, and close it when nothing comes out. “Sorry, I know that’s random it’s just I never really talked to anyone about how they were rarely home and when they were they were always arguing a-and we spoke about it a lot. About our families so I just...”

“I’m sorry to hear that, do they still live in town?” I ask, wanting to put my hand on his or show him I cared but they stay glued to my drink.

“My mom moved into the city, it’s closer to her job and since I’m not living at home anymore it doesn’t really matter...”

“You still go home?” I ask.

“I don’t even know where home is?” He looks at me then, and the look in his eyes chips at the wall I’d been trying to build all night. Things had changed, for him.

“Are you--do you have someone to talk to?”

His laugh is dry, “They split last summer, convinced me to talk to some therapist. I don’t know if it really helped I think I’m actually better off. They’re better off and I just feel...free.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I stay quiet. He looks back up at me then, cracks his knuckles, before perching on his bed. “I’m just--sorry I’m not telling you that so you can feel sorry for me-”

“I don’t I just-”

“No it’s okay I just want to tell you that because you knew about that stuff. But I’m trying to tell you I’m not the same guy. Not completely, I’m just trying to tell you things changed and so have I.”

It echoes the same sentiment I had earlier in his conversation, and I remember Regan said he’s mellowed out. Maybe it was true. It still didn’t mean I was going to get together with him anytime soon but my heart hurts for him. I walk up to where he sits, he watches me with a steady gaze.

In the quiet, I hear the party going on outside the window, three floors below us. If I listen really carefully, I can hear sounds coming from the video game being played next door. In the stillness, I reach for Harry’s hand and he obliges, grasping mine.

“I wish I could...help you with the hurt. Not knowing where to call home is pretty shitty.”

“Don’t worry about me Y/N,” he pastes on his classic smile and I return one for his sake. It was getting heavy in here. “I’m just happy I got to talk to you. And I just found out you don’t hate me so...” he holds our intertwined hands and shakes it. “woo hoo!” I laugh as we let go.

“I guess I should go back to the party.”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t keep you.”

“Okay,” I’m a little stung he doesn’t suggest I stay a little longer. Maybe it was all in my head, maybe his intentions really were to make amends and that’s it. I pick my drink up from his windowsill and move to the door. I glance back before I go, he’s laying on his bed deep in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. I close the door behind me.

***

I wake the next morning, surprisingly well. I can’t say the same for Gaelle who’d passed me her keys at some point and told me she’d be home late. I spent the rest of the party trailing Regan until I decided I should just go crash. Harry hadn’t come out to find me, and I tried to hide the sour feeling, excusing myself early.

“Fuck me,” Gaelle croaks from her bed when I step into her open doorway.

“How about coffee, and pancakes?” I ask, returning the favor of being able to sleep here.

“I’ll take it,” she flops back into bed. I busy myself with measuring coffee and water, my thoughts occupied with everything Harry and I had been through since we last saw each other. I demonized him for so long, humanizing him is harder to swallow.

What he’d done to me was shitty, there was no denying. But had he really changed? And most importantly, why did I care so much? It’s not like he was the one.

My phone rings: Regan. She’s talking so fast I hardly hear her, only really understand that it was a party ritual to gather in the student centre the morning after a big party. Endless coffee and free food seemed to be the general consensus for a party cure.

“I don’t know if I can make it there,” Gaelle says when I tell her. “I was hoping for pancakes at home.”

“I already put the coffee on but I’m hauling your ass there if you’re not up in 5. Our train leaves after noon anyway and it’s closer to the college.”

Slowly but surely Gaelle emerges and we make our way, spotting Regan easily as the bright spot in a sea of college students in PJs and last night’s clothing. She’s the only one fully dressed, with a full face of makeup on.

“I didn’t drink that much,” she shrugs when we settle around her and Adam’s friends. “Unlike some people.” She looks pointedly at Adam who’s slumped where he sits. I remember the kegger and laugh.

Life soon flows back into the group around us as does the coffee and breakfast foods. I’m relaxed in the environment until I look down the tables to where Harry stands, looking back at me. He raises a hand and I do the same until an extremely tall angel--she was literally wearing a halo, probably from last night-walks up to him and wraps her hands around his waist. She says something to him and he tears his gaze away.

I look down at my cup immediately, my cheeks burning with humiliation. I’d been thinking about him all this time, thinking about how it might feel if I kissed him and of course he had a girlfriend. She never came up, but he never said he didn’t either. He didn’t make any moves on me yesterday, if I looked at it he only made an attempt to talk. Sure he was flirty but that was just Harry and I...I was a fool. I was such a fool. Things may have changed for him but he hadn’t. He was still the same Harry who chose Josslyn over me. He would always have a girlfriend, I was just the girl from his past who he could trust. I couldn’t say the same about him.

“What’s wrong,” my best friend nudges me. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I don’t know,” I look into her concerned eyes. “I’m just going to--I’ll be right back.”

I head out and find the closest washroom. The tears are instant and I let myself cry--out of frustration, humiliation, or some twisted sense of betrayal...it was all the same for me. I check the time, I just had to hold myself together and avoid Harry for another 2 hours before we were back on the train home. I would tell Regan everything then.

*** Three weeks later ***

“If Adam’s over later...” Regan trails off. She’s sprawled on my bed while I sit in my desk chair trying to read one more chapter before I close the books for the week.

“I have my earplugs ready and a second place to stay,” I roll my eyes. “I already told Kiara I might crash on her couch.”

“I owe you,” she jumps back up.

“You owe me like, 7 and a half.”

“7 and a half?”

I’m about to answer but a knock on our door has her racing out. I try to ignore the voices, I just had two more pages I had to get through--the joy of summer classes.

“Y/N?: Regan’s voice is a whisper. “We’re going now but...you have a guest. If you want me to kick his ass I totally can though.”

Standing behind her is Harry. I focus on him, yes it really was him. Why was he here?

“Harry?” I sound confused because I am. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, and he’d traveled 2 hours just to get here.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” Adam says louder as they leave the room. “I’m sorry Y/N...”

“What is this?” I ask. My feelings are at war with each other, I was still feeling slighted by the last time we saw each other but seeing his face was also an exciting surprise.

“I wanted to see you,” Harry says nervously. He still stays at my bedroom door.

“You can come in...” I stand up and realize I was wearing an oversize t-shirt and the scruffiest PJ shorts I owned. “Phones have cameras now, you didn’t have to come all this way.”

He shrugs, taking one step in. “I liked seeing you in person last time. But I feel like we left it wrong.”

He knows I saw him, what conclusions I must have come to. It wouldn’t be that hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We talked it out.”

He comes to life, “Don’t play dumb Y/N I know you saw me with...I know what you thought and-”

“Did you really come all this way to explain that you had a girlfriend? Like, three weeks later?”

“No that’s the thing-”

“Because that’s kind of dumb. And unnecessary-”

“No listen!” He says a bit louder so I do. “The thing is she wasn’t my girlfriend...we’d hung out a few times but she saw me at the caf and got clingy. We’re not an item honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend-.”

“So why are you here?” My voice is higher than usual. I was confused, and upset, and I wanted him to leave. This was starting to sound like Josslyn part 2.

“You know why I’m here. Y/N I’ve been nothing but a dick to you and I know I don’t deserve you but I really like you. I want to clear the air, and ask you if you can see something here I...”

He trails off when he notices the tears trailing down my cheek. It’s just too much for me, as I finally face the emotions from that weekend. I’d shoved them aside after Regan had gotten onto the train worried her and Adam were headed towards a breakup. I’d put aside what happened and never thought about it. But my heart broke a little that morning. 

I knew what I knew: maybe Harry and I weren’t good for each other but we were good with each other. In an attempt not to get hurt I’ve been distancing myself from romantic connections--I found more of myself in doing this, but a part of me was missing without exploring it.

Harry moved closer until we’re nearly touching. I wipe my tears with my shoulder and we stand still on the hardwood floors of my room. An eternity passes before he reaches out to wipe the tear caught in my lashes. I close my eyes to his touch, scared of how much I wanted it.

“Y/N,” my name is a breath on his lips and it makes my heart stutter. My eyes open in slow motion, seeing him so vulnerable right in front of me, and suddenly things speed up and we’re reaching for each other; two waves crashing until they become one.

***

I don’t know how much time had passed in minutes, Adam and Regan are still out but Harry and I had fallen together and crashed apart so many times that I’m dizzy with it.

“You’re wonderful,” he says as we face each other, our noses just nearly touching. He trails a finger down my cheek. “Just...incredible.”

I feel the flush spread through me, “Great vocab Styles. We’re really using the big words.”

“Words are sort of hard right now,” he grins. “My brain’s all mush.”

I laugh, “Not much different to its usual state!”

“I knew you were going to say that!” he tries to reach for me but I skip off the bed with a laugh. “Come back.”

“I have to pee,” I slip on pants and can’t stop grinning the whole time I’m away. When I come back in, the blissful smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. I climb over him but he stops me in place, a knee on either side of his hips.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you Y/N,” he says, his voice roughened with emotion. “I think I always was. Younger Harry liked to self-sabotage.”

I bend down and my hair slips around us. The way he looks at me makes my insides mush. And even though I have proof of why I shouldn’t trust him, he’s here. In my bed. Miles away from where he would be if he hadn’t traveled all this way to see me. And that means something.

“I’m glad you’ve done some growing,” I say to him quietly.

“I had to,” he says softly. “I couldn’t have you like I do now if I hadn’t.”

“I guess we’ve both grown,” I brush a curl from his forehead.

“I know, old Y/N would have punched me if I showed up unexpectedly.”

“Rightly so,” I grin. He smiles back, brushing my hair behind my ear, back over my shoulder. He props himself on his elbow to kiss the shoulder he’d bared. It’s simple, and sweet, but it’s enough to unravel me all over again. And he knows it.

“When does Regan get home?”

“We might have another half hour,” I grin.

“Let’s not waste it,” he mumbles into my skin.

I agree.

[kananjarus]

*shows up two weeks late with some 5x13 speculation fic*

read on ao3

Buck told Taylor about the kiss on a foggy Saturday night. 

He’d been seized by a desperation he couldn’t fully explain. Maybe the waiting had finally gotten to him. Waiting for the right moment perhaps, or for Taylor to pull herself from her laptop, her phone, the bathroom mirror, long enough to look at him, fully look at him like she actually knew him and see the lie he’d been struggling to hold in like a sickness. 

The truth came out in a rush of monosyllabic words jumbled into a ground shaking confession. Taylor did finally look at him then, her hand left hanging halfway from her face and the bathroom mirror. 

She looked stunned, momentarily frozen in time as she took in what they both expected the least from him. 

For a minute it seemed as if he’d done the right thing this time. Her pallid face remained expressionless as she waited for him to elaborate, listening with an intense focus that made him feel impossibly small under the loft’s yellow track lighting. 

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you,” he finished, and that was also the truth, though it felt more hollow than the last time he’d voiced that to someone. He’d failed in that regard, if Taylor's clenched jaw and wide eyed expression were anything to go by. 

Nodding once, she shouldered her way past him out of the bathroom. 

The first words out of her mouth were, “You waited until this moment to tell me.” 

Buck’s stomach clenched painfully. She wasn’t wrong to accuse him. He found himself unable to look her in the eye. He opened his mouth but she cut him off. 

“Don’t apologize,” she said, voice high and punctuated with a hint of derisive laughter. She sounded so different when she wasn’t in front of a camera. A stranger. “I really don’t…” The sentence died. Taylor walked into the open space of the loft, chest heaving. She snatched her phone from where it had been charging several feet away and angrily swiped her thumb across it. 

This is it, Buck thought, feeling oddly suspended in the moment. She’s leaving. 

She didn’t have any real friends, not the kind who would take her in and give her a couch to sleep on in such short notice anyway (Buck should’ve seen that as a red flag in the beginning, but he was ten months too late). Taylor mumbled something about how expensive it was to find a hotel this late as she furiously typed into her phone, her back to him. 

They were still surrounded by boxes. Barely unpacked boxes, which was fortunate for the pair of them. 

Only a day ago Albert and Eddie had been here helping her unload the van she had rented to ferry her few belongings to his place. A single dress hung in his closet, in the small space he had made for her stuff. She had planned to wear it out to dinner tonight. 

They were going to celebrate. 

Until Buck got cold feet and stopped her in the downstairs bathroom doorway and told her about Lucy.

Taylor found her purse on the couch, heaved it over to the dining table and began rifling through it. Her wallet, headphone case, work lanyard and a set of keys all tumbled out in a tangled heap. With a curse she unzipped her wallet and began to rummage through it. Buck gave her a wide berth and found himself positioned behind the island counter, his hands spread wide to keep himself steady. 

He didn’t want to be doing this in the kitchen. Somehow, it felt too much like sacred ground. 

A picture of Eddie and Christopher sitting at the counter. Eddie’s favorite brand of beer sweating and forming half moons of condensation on the marbled surface. Buck always used to have a six pack stocked in his fridge just for him. 

Now instead it was Taylor’s pressed juice bottles and non fat yogurt taking up space in his fridge. Buck couldn’t remember the last time he’d even shopped for beer. Taylor preferred wine, and in turn, so did he. 

The realization only fed the empty feeling inside of him, carving out his hollow insides with a cold hand. 

“Are you on something?”

Taylor, in all her fiery anger. 

Buck dragged himself back to the present. It was harder than he wanted it to be. “What?”

“You weren’t even listening,” she scoffed then, flicking her long hair out of face. “Do you just not care at all, anymore? Do you even care about me?”

“I - I do,” Buck said, and his voice sounded weak even to his own ears. “That’s why I told you, because I don’t think you deserve to be lied to - ”  

Taylor let out a harsh laugh. Her lips were painted pale pink, and Buck had the deranged thought that the color made her look washed out, less of herself. “I’m sorry, but are you trying to save face for leading me on? You feel bad for lying to me, how do you feel about me ending my lease three months early and having nowhere to go?”

“You don’t ha-have to leave, y-you can stay, I’ll take the couch. Or - or I’ll leave, I’ll go to my sisters, or Eddie’s…”

Another scoff. Taylor turned on him again as her phone chimed. “I found a last minute place across town. Don’t worry about me, though I know you won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“I thought you had matured a bit since last year, but I guess I was hoping for too much. You’ve always been so fucking self centered. You only told me you cheated to make yourself feel better.”

Buck swallowed. Her words pierced him like dull knives. He knew she was right, she’d called him out on it before. 

“Let - let me pay for your hotel,” he said. Strangely, he felt close to crying. 

Taylor stomped past him to grab a box. There was a duffel inside and she practically tore apart the cardboard to get to it. “Don’t bother.” She found the bag and left him alone. 

Outside the dress, all her clothes were in boxes at the top of the stairs. Buck listened to her rip open another box to pack her bag. It seemed excessive to him but he got it somehow. If it were him, he’d want to tear apart something too. 

His phone began to buzz in his pocket. It was set to silent, so there was no way of telling who it was until he looked. He shouldn’t. 

Should he? 

How much more could Taylor hate him for answering a phone call in the middle of the shitstorm that he had created?

But he let it go, hoping it was at least the first decent thing he had done all night. 

But not even a minute later it was going off again, making his anxiety spike just a little more. A person only called twice if it was something important. 

Turning his back on the open loft lest Taylor was looking his way, Buck walked into the kitchen and slipped his phone from his pants pocket. 

He was somewhat surprised to see Eddie’s name there, his goofy cross eyed expression that Buck had snapped a photo of two winters ago filling up the screen. That seemed like an impossibly far away time now. When the distance between them didn’t feel like a bottomless canyon. 

“Eddie?” he whispered in the receiver, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. “What’s up?”

Eddie, who knew he and Taylor had plans tonight. Who these days preferred conversations via text only. Buck suspected that had something to do with the way he was hiding from everyone in more ways than ghosting them at their favorite badge and ladder bar and everything to do with the way he pretended like he was still a perfectly normal and functional human being even if everyone they knew could see through the weak impersonation. 

Who was now making a noise in the tiny speaker like Buck had never heard before. One that took him back to a hot day ten months ago when Eddie was dying in the back of a fire truck, his blood spilling out all over Buck’s hands. 

“Eddie? Is that you? Can you hear me?” It came out louder now, and he imagined he heard the noises from upstairs stop altogether as Buck felt the panic in him rise to a crescendo. 

“I -” Eddie began, and then his breath hitched in that awful, body shaking away that told Buck all he needed to know. “Buck…”

He bent nearly in half, putting his forearm to the counter top and letting his head fall so heavily he was sure a bruise would be there tomorrow. He pressed his forehead even harder in the hope that it did. His fingers quickly began to numb. “Tell me you’re okay, or if you’re hurt -”

Behind him, Taylor’s duffel hit the floor with ground shaking  thud. Her heels clacked on the stairs a little too loudly. 

“I can’t - I can’t stop it, I don’t -”

Buck was intimately familiar with the sounds a person made when they were in the throes of a panic attack. The knowledge didn’t make what he had to say next any easier. He straightened up and made the mistake of turning around. Taylor was only a few steps from ground level, watching him with a hard to read expression. 

“Eddie, breathe. Just tell me where you are.”

“Home. On the f-floor, I couldn’t -”

“Where’s Christopher?”

“At a s-sleepover.”

Relief so strong he almost went boneless with it. “Okay. Okay. Are you hurt?”

No answer, but Buck could almost feel the gasping breath Eddie was struggling to take on the other end of the line. 

“Eddie, talk to me.”

“Not - no.”

“Just stay where you are. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

Eddie stifled a sob, an honest to god sob with a whimper dangling from the end of the sound and said, “Uh huh,” in a breathy voice and waited until Buck hung up first. 

He was thankful that Taylor at least had the decency to wait for the phone call to end before she came after him again, reinvigorated with a dispassionate fury. 

“You called him now, seriously?”

Maybe it was the new anxiety he had for Eddie, but something about that set him off. He didn’t want it to, did his best to hold back. 

“He called me. Something’s going on.”

“It always is with him.”

Buck stopped looking for his car keys and turned. “Excuse me?”

She finally came the rest of the way down the stairs, each heavy step in her heels sending an annoyed tick to Buck’s frayed nerves. “The whole time we were together, they always came first! And I know what you guys went through last year was awful, but come on!”

“Taylor, stop,” he moved to cut her off before she said something he really didn’t have the patience to hear, but she stood her ground. 

“It’s kind of sad actually. You’d do anything for a real family, that you’d drop everything good in your life if he asked you to.”

“This,” he said, motioning between them. “Isn’t about Eddie. But he and Chris are my family. And he needs me, so I’m leaving. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause from her, and her next words were twisted with disbelief and outrage. “That’s it?”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” he repeated, and grabbed his work duffle on the way out, always ready to go with an extra change of clothes and his bag of toiletries. He wasn’t keen on returning anytime soon if her belongings were still strewn about his apartment. “Lock the door on your way out.”

                                                             ----

Eddie called him again before Buck left the parking garage. He took the call connected to his Jeep’s speakers. Eddie sounded like he had recently overcome a bad head cold but having his voice filling up the cab of his car, loud and present and still very much Buck’s best friend, immediately soothed some of the apprehensiveness away. 

“How are you feeling? I’m just leaving my place now.”

“What?” Eddie spluttered, and his voice disappeared briefly as he sniffed and what sounded to Buck like him rubbing his face in his sleeve. “No, no, I’m sorry, I -”

“Eddie, don’t.”

“You - you had dinner plans, I know. Don’t worry about me, I just - I feel so…”

“Scared?” Buck didn’t know why he said it. He knew Eddie would never admit to it. 

But his night so far had already been filled with unsettling surprises, so what was one more?

“Yeah,” Eddie said. He sounded so unlike himself, so unsure. And Buck’s heart, already fragile and sore, cracked in response. “I don’t know why.”

“I know. But you feel it anyway. And there’s no shame in that.”

A new sound. Eddie was crying again, and trying valiantly to hide it so his phone couldn’t pick up the sound.

“Do you want me to pick up anything?”

“No.”

“Have you eaten?”

When Eddie didn’t answer, Buck checked his dash to make sure they were still connected. “Eds?”

“No, I - there’s food here, I don’t want you to -”

“Anything you want, I’m serious. I’ll get it.”

You’d drop anything good in life if he asked you to, Taylor’s voice, more shrill than he was used to, echoed from his memory. 

“Can you just be here?”

More muffled crying sounds. Buck couldn’t take it, but he knew he needed to hold it together for Eddie’s sake if anything. 

“Please?” If Buck wasn’t positive he was alone, he would’ve thought Christopher had spoken into the phone. That was how young and fragile Eddie sounded.  

“Yeah,” Buck said, his voice miraculously steady though the corners of his eyes felt damp. “I’ll be there in fifteen. You want me to stay on the line while I drive?” 

Eddie made some kind of noise that seemed to affirm Buck’s question. He drove, asking more questions to get a grasp on Eddie’s physical and mental state. His hands gripping the wheel tightly enough leave lasting marks for at least a few minutes, feeling shaky and cresting a wave of adrenaline, Eddie’s uneven breathing at the edge of every thought.

Before his night had blown up, he had been gazing westward out the glass door that opened to his empty balcony. An unnatural fog had been covering this part of the city, rolling in off the ocean after a hot day and cooling everything down. Now it was clearer, a handful of twinkling stars and satellites peaking at him through a thin veil of moisture still lingering over the velvet sky. 

And when he pulled up to Eddie’s, there was no doubt in his mind that this was where he wanted to be. Even after he let himself into the house and walked the tentative, anxiety pulsing steps towards the light under Eddie’s bedroom door. Even after he pushed it open and found him, red faced and bruised and cradling a baseball bat of all things amongst the lopsided contents of his room. 

It scared him to pieces, seeing Eddie like this. Something in him knew this was coming, just like he anticipated Taylor’s bitterness and the disappointment in him that apparently never faded. But unlike his dead end relationship with Taylor, this was something he wanted to mend. 

You’re the guy who likes to fix things, Eddie had told him not so long ago, smiling so fondly at him on the balcony. Buck wondered if his words were subconsciously written for himself. 

“Hi.” It was all he could say.

“Hi,” Eddie managed back. The sound wobbled, tipped off his trembling lips before he burst into another bout of fresh sobs that sent an arrow straight into Buck’s chest and shattered him. 

He reached, taking note of Eddie’s skinned knee and bloody hands and brought him closer so gently he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough to pick Eddie up off the floor. The bat fell away, Eddie’s hands scrabbling against Buck’s arms, clinging, until Buck realized that Eddie didn’t need to be moved. So Buck knelt down to his level.

This time maybe she’s the one who needs to be taken care of.

Buck understood now. He stayed with Eddie as the sobs continued, Eddie muttering nonsense words into his shoulder as Buck cradled his head, rubbing small, soothing circles into his heaving back. He didn’t know what triggered this. But for the time being, holding on, holding Eddie, seemed to make sense. If even the rest of their lives outside of this room lay in ruins, he knew they would always have each other. 

[tonguetiedraven]

Fandom: Blue Exorcist/Ao No Exorcist Pairing: Bon/Rin Soulmate Au: Shared dreams until you actually get to meet. Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight , Nine , Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen , Fourteen

---------------

For a moment, Rin looked entirely the same, excluding the pallor and slight shadows under his eyes that indicated exhaustion.

That was when he realized that Rin’s hands hadn’t turned the light on. Rin’s hands were still holding his. Behind Rin, drifting through the air in an almost cautious way, was, as far as Bon could tell, a tail. It was covered in fine fur, with a thick and wild tuft of fur at the end. 

Rin released his hand while he stared in confusion, and lifted his own hand to tuck a few strands of dark hair behind his ear. An ear that was no longer the same shape it had been for as long as Bon knew him. They were longer, and pointed instead of curved like a human ear. 

He didn’t understand at all. These weren’t human features, but you couldn’t just grow new features. Was it some sort of possession? Something with demons? He hadn’t read anything about this in his temple's sacred texts. 

Did it have something to do with Shirou’s death?

Whatever it was, Rin was waiting for a response, and there was no way Bon could miss the panic on his face, even if it wasn’t the same face he knew and loved.

“Rin?” He raised his hand to hover over Rin’s cheek, uncertain if he could touch. Rin’s eyes were staring up at him, and even they looked slightly different. His pupils were almost red, and the color was brighter. 

“Surprise?”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Rin’s gaze dropped. “It’s… it’s a long story.”

“We’ll, it’s just us, and we’ve got all night.” He glanced around the room and frowned at it. “We could go someplace else? Walk if that makes it easier? I could show you my new—?” His word didn’t come out, despite trying.

Rin’s gaze snapped up. “New what?”

Bon shook his head and just stepped back into the hall, dragging Rin with him. “Come on. We’re gonna walk and talk.” 

It was still raining when they got outside. Unlike before though, the storm had eased so it didn’t look like an approaching apocalypse. This might have just been a regular rainfall during the rainy season. Tugging on Rin’s hand, he darted through the rain soaked paths and towards the building his new dorm was in. Rin’s tail flicked through the air as they ran, almost like it was trying to keep the rain off them. He tried not to stare, and he was grateful when they got into the building.  He didn’t wait to explain, he just darted to the stairs and pulled Rin along.

For a wild moment, as they jogged up the stairs to his new dorm, it felt like they were children again. It felt like they were exploring the new city and discovering everything together. 

“Just a little further,” he promised once they crested the stairs, “down this hall and —” he stopped in front of his room number and reached for the doorknob. He paused before opening and looked at his soulmate. He hadn’t thought this part through. “Uh, don’t judge me?”

Rin’s brow furrowed. “Judge what?”

Bon twisted the knob and shoved the door open. “My new room.”

For a wild moment, he expected the stupid magic to make the room as empty as all the other ones, but it wasn’t. It was exactly like his real dorm room.

How weird to think he was actually sleeping in here right now. Right over there on that bed.

Rin’s tail lifted in surprise as he strolled into Bon’s dorm. He quietly surveyed the walls, taking in the posters, pictures, and art he’d hung around. Bon used Rin’s distraction to take a moment to study Rin. He could wait to know if Rin liked the room. 

Rin was so entirely different, and entirely the same. It had been hard to see in the classroom, but now Bon could see that he was carrying himself differently, his face was longer than it had been, and his muscles seemed a bit more defined. 

Was he taller?

“This is your room?”

Bon nodded and sat down on his bed. He still didn’t understand what had happened to cause all the changes. “Like it?”

“It’s cool! But, There’s a lot of blurry stuff. I guess I still can’t know where you’re from?” Rin’s tail drooped towards the ground sadly. 

“I’m here now, so—” he pat the spot beside himself, “—wanna talk?” Rin took a careful step towards him, and that was all.

“What’s, uh,” Rin’s eyes scanned the room a little frantically, “that!” He pointed wildly towards one of the sutras  Bon had hung up near his desk for meditation, “say?”

Blowing out a breath, Bon reminded himself to stay calm. “It’s the lotus mantra.” He got up from the bed and recited the first line as he moved towards Rin. His soulmate’s eyes went wide with surprise, and had he never recited something for him? That seemed almost impossible. He was officially training to be an aria, it was a huge part of his life. 

“You’re stalling.” he added once he’d closed about half the distance.

Rin’s eyes dropped to the floor guiltily. “I know I need to… but…”

Bon caught Rin around the middle, charged for the bed, and dropped Rin on the mattress. He followed right after him, and dug his fingers into his sides. 

“Ryuuji, no—!” Rin’s word cut off in a peal of high-pitched squeals, proving that despite whatever else might have changed, he still had the same tickle spots. There was the added challenge of a tail though, and it promptly smacked him across the face as Rin tried to fend off his tickle attack. He pushed on anyways, until Rin was gasping for air.

He spat out a mouthful of fur — weirdly like a cat’s — and grinned down at Rin. “You know the rules. You gotta tell me now.”

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part FOURTEEN

You’ll see why this one took a while in just a second, I did that thing where I drew a whole ass scene again

Content warning for fantasy religions based loosely on Christian schisms

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

So while Link is getting acclimated to Castle life and getting hugs from Marla and Tonbo (and also getting unofficially adopted by the royal family) Astramorus flies back to the Sky Temple with his loftwing. 

And he has a lot of time to think while he’s doing it; I don’t know how fast a loftwing flies but even so it would have taken some hours on Hera’s back and you don’t have anything to do up there but think about why you got blasted through a wall by a god-queen.  So he gets back and he’s feeling pretty fucking subdued when he hands Hera off to the Sky Temple commune’s gardener/bird caretaker, Maurice.

[Image description:  Astramorus, looking tired and still missing his hat, his hair a mess, is standing opposite a short and round mustached man with bushy eyebrows dressed in the same priestly robes, except that this man has his sleeves shortened to his elbows and is wearing thick gloves.  This man is holding Hera the loftwing by a lead, while she makes a particularly vacant happy face.  “NAYRU’S EYES, man, WHAT HAPPENED?”  Astramorus gives a very small smile, and after a pause, answers, “TURBULENCE.”  The man harrumphs skeptically, then says, “Well, LORD SERENUMBRA from the LORULEAN ORTHODOXY showed up three days ago and he’s been giving me ADVICE ON MY TOMATOES, so turbulence or OTHERWISE I’d appreciate you DISTRACTING HIM before I commit some WEEDING.”  Astramorus smiles.  “Ah,” he says in understanding.  “Yes, thank you for your PATIENCE, Maurice.”  End ID.] 

A note on Maurice, originally I was going to make him look like Gaepora OR Rauru and then Ice suggested basing him on Maurice-Belle’s-Dad and I liked that, so I blended the ideas a bit.  

I think I’ve mentioned that Lorule and Hyrule have different takes on the Hylia religion, haven’t I?

Basically since this Lorule is just the country south of Hyrule instead of a dark-mirror-universe world, Invid suggested that part of the idea might be that Lorule insists that Hyrule is wrong about which country the Golden Goddesses left the world from, and that the Triforce belongs there instead.  I kind of played with that a little further, and so now part of the thing is that their royal line is actually also descended from Hylia directly, except that at some point a sister broke off from (one or the other of) the royal family, founding the Hilda line versus the Zelda line.

And real quick here’s the Hilda of this story, which I promise is relevant:

[Image Description: Sketches of a tall, black haired woman with pale skin and blue eyes and extremely long pointed ears, dressed in a cape and dress of purple, dark blue, red and gold.  She wears a blue and green belt trimmed with gold and black gloves, and a diadem featuring a red gemstone and golden spread wings.  There is an inverted Triforce symbol on her sash.  She is also wearing black lipstick and red blush and eyeshadow.  A sketch to the side shows her making a decidedly less dignified expression with the note “All the finery and rouge is a desperate attempt to fool you into thinking Hilda is in her twenties but she’s only actually seventeen, same as Link.”  Another sketch shows her next to an old man with round glasses and priestly robes different to the Hyrulean priests, who only comes up to her chest.  She has her hands on her hips and is ranting at him.  A note reads, “Hilda TOL.”  End ID.]

Anyway the thing is that currently, the two churches are relatively peaceable with one another, they have joint gatherings to quibble about tradition and who should be allowed to have what sacred treasures and who has to bring the roast boar next time, and that is how a very young novice Astramorus ended up as friends with the man he would eventually match in equivalent rank, Lord Serenumbra.  Who gets a nice picture equivalent piece to Astra’s introduction because of symmetry: 

[Image Description: The same short priest from the picture with Hilda.  He has white loosely curly hair, circular gold glasses, a hat similar to Astramorus’s but in red, a dark red robe over a black underdress, both trimmed in gold, and is wearing a heavy golden neck piece with an inverted Triforce and golden wings framing a blue disc.  To the side are various comic panels; in the first, he has taken an extremely young Astramorus’s hand and is saying, “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE you, my friend!”  In the second, he’s spread his arms wide while approaching Astramorus and Catena, Link’s mother.  “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE YOU, my friends!” he’s saying, and Catena laughs, giving Astramorus a rough side hug that lifts him off his feet despite her only coming to his chest, while Astramorus gives her a gooey smile.  “TOO LATE,” she says, “I told my mum first,” and laughs.  In the last panel, Astramorus has collapsed limp into a chair at a dining room table, his hair in his eyes, his face wet with tears, propping his head on one arm as Serenumbra pats his shoulder from behind the chair.  “Let me be the first to say,” Serenumbra says, “How DEEPLY SORRY I am, my friend.”  End ID.]

This is awful but that’s currently my favorite picture of Astramorus.  

Serenumbra’s design is based on the priest and philosopher from ALttP and Link Between Worlds; the philosopher’s robes were red so I sorta priestified them.  The blue disc in the center of his neck piece represents the Moon Pearl from ALttP, which was actually red in the game but blue in some of the promotional materiel, and the blue was a nicer contrast.  The Moon Pearl was mostly important because it let Link run around in his human form in the Dark World but I always liked it because it was sort of weird and mysterious.  In Four Swords Adventures there’s actually a LOT of moon pearls and they let you make portals between the worlds.  There isn’t going to be a lot of world hopping in this AU, I just thought it was interesting context. 

Anyway here’s two old friends having a conversation, image description and a little more commentary plus some bonus poking at Astramorus at the end:

[Image Descriptions: Astramorus is entering a room with a rounded door and a coat rack on the wall.  “Seren?” he calls.  “ASTRAMORUS, are you QUITE all right?” Serenumbra answers.  He is sitting at a round table in the center of the room; there are two dining chairs, one of which he is sitting in, and opposite of him is a comfortable looking rocking chair.  “I came because I heard about your SON, have you still not found him?”  Astramorus, looking deeply pained, straightens some of his hair with one hand.  “I found him,” he says.  He settles into the rocking chair with a long creak.  Serenumbra is clearly shocked by his demeanor.  “Astra,” he says, concern clear in his face, “What HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling while looking like death warmed over.  There is a panel fading from light to dark to indicate the passage of time, then we see that Serenumbra has a hand to his mouth in thought.  “So the queen refuses to see the DANGER here,” he says.  Astramorus has folded his hands together.  “She’s right about my SON, though,” he answers.  Serenumbra is quick to defend Astramorus to himself: “Well- he’s such a SOFT BOY, you wanted him PREPARED,” he begins, but Astramorus stops him.  “I pushed him too hard, too SOON, and with too little CARE.”  Astramorus lifts his hands and grins painfully, continuing, “WHAT was I DOING, trying to teach him how to FIGHT when all I knew was an ADULT’S routine?”  He puts a hand to his chin, still smiling.  “I must be the STUPIDEST MAN ALIVE.”  “Astra,” Serenumbra begins again, and Astramorus interrupts again.  “My wife used to tell me I WORRIED too much, did I ever mention that?”  He asks.  His face turns solemn.  “It was even one of the LAST THINGS she said to me,” he says.  We get a glimpse of young Astramorus and Catena together backlit by the sun; she’s wearing a blue version of the classical Link costume with a sword strapped to her back and plate armor on her shoulders, he’s wearing his priestly robes and hat.  She’s reached up to grab his face, grinning, while he’s put his hands on hers.  “And then she died,” Astramorus says.  He sits up, animate once more.  “What else could I DO but worry?!” he demands.  “You’ve studied the legends, same as I-” he subsides again- “That mark on Link’s hand may as well be a DEATH SENTENCE.”  He puts a hand on his face.  “And I’ve so THOROUGHLY FAILED him that now I’ve put the Royal Family in danger TOO.”  Serenumbra puts a hand to his chin, thoughtfully.  “WELL, you never KNOW,” he says, “Princess HILDA is more of an age with Link, maybe the Triforce of Wisdom will arise in the LORULEAN line this time.”  Astramorus laughs.  “That doesn’t change the SITUATION, Seren,” quietly adding “But also KEEP DREAMING.”  He then puts his hand to his mouth.  “How do I even BEGIN to atone?” Astramorus asks.  “Ahh, old friend,” Serenumbra answers, soothingly.  “If only Catena were still WITH us, she’d know how to ease the boy’s burden.  Why-she’d face down GANON HIMSELF if it came to that!”  Astramorus makes an intense face, as if he’s been suddenly burdened.  Serenumbra stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.  “Get some REST, dear friend, you still look TERRIBLE,” he says with a smile.  Astramorus is wringing his hands, staring forward.  End ID.]

DUMBASS BRAINCELLS ENGAGED.

I didn’t expect “Got pegged by his wife so hard that the mere invocation of her name knocked him back to his senses after over eleven years of fucking shitty behavior towards their son” to be on the bingo card for this character when I started this project either, but this is Draft 0.5 so anything can happen XD

Astramorus is so layered now what the fuck!  

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “WELL FIRST OF ALL I FUCKING DIED.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “...my wife made this chair.”  End ID.]

Catena got into carving as a hobby during long trips but she started making furniture while dealing with nesting urges while pregnant, so imagine this little tank of a woman assembling a rocking chair for her tol noodle husband while ranting about her weird cravings.