#this post brought to you by the frustration of having to constantly block people while going through the schlatt tag

[grumpy-detective]

please, not to kinkshame or whatever the term would be, but if you are gonna post rpf fics, DO NOT post it in the main tags of the creator/person

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iii) - pt 1 pt 2

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : no one frustrates and confuses y/n more than matt

warnings : smoking weed, alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!), tension, sexually suggestive

mickey speaks : THIS IS LONG AS SHIT!!!! ngl im not obsessed w this part but u guys r the sweetest thank u for loving this story so far and for ur patience. part 4 definitely won't have as long of a wait.

THIS IS PART THREE GO READ THE FIRST TWO PARTS NEOWW

MATT hates hosting parties.

now that he and his brothers have hosted three of these "get together"s to promote the warehouse, he’s realized just how much attendees dont give a shit about respecting the space they're in. he found it to be a cool concept for sure: give out free tiny tats along with food and drinks for more exposure and networking. nick came up with it and it sounded perfectly easy way to build their brand and get to know people in LA.

except the first one was a complete mess, with chris constantly promoting the party (he mentioned it to almost everyone he talked to, encouraging them to bring friends along), frequent instagram posts dedicated to the event, and natural word of mouth the warehouse was suddenly overcrowded and trashed within the first hour of being open. matt barely got through that night without losing his temper or calling the cops to shut down his own party.

that’s not to say matt hates attending parties as severely as he hates to have his own. he’s more than willing to go out when he has a set time to leave and good enough company. he’s trained his anxiety to behave within those spaces so that he's not ruining his or anyone else's time. now it seems his anxiety only spikes when it comes to (what feels like) hundreds of people surrounding him in his space with no intentions of leaving until well into the morning. at that point he’d prefer to be at home, completely alone.

just as he does now that nick has dragged him out to a nearby liquor store to buy “goodies” for the event later today.

matt’s face carries his typical dry expression as nick stands next to him, hands resting on his hips, eyeing the various vodka bottles.

“nick, it’s alcohol not the fucking newspaper,” matt grumbles.

“i know that! i just don’t wanna choose the wrong one.” he defends.

“if they don’t like something i think we have more than enough to choose from at this point,” matt sarcastically nudges his arms that hold onto a wide selection of alcohol that nick has impetuously given him with quips of ‘okay, hold this one.’

“matt, i wouldn’t have brought you if i knew you’d be such a buzzkill, jesus.” nicks tsks.

“alright, don't say that like i was begging to come here, nick. i had no choice and-"

nick cuts him off swiftly, noticing a few girls have joined them in the aisle, “matt, move." nick guides him backwards with his hand, "you’re like, in the way.”

matt turns his head to see what exactly he was blocking, before turning back to nick and scowling, “‘m literally not in the way at all.”

“they might need to see all the options,” nick shrugs, going back to narrowing his options down while matt stands in slight annoyance, zoning out.

until he overhears the two girls call, “yeah it’s over here, y/n! come!”

and matt can’t help but turn and look (at an embarrassingly quick pace that he’d blame on his brain's pristine sound recognition and not that he wanted to see you, necessarily).

and sure enough your frame comes into view (clad in a sweatshirt and small pair of shorts), confirming that he did not mishear and you unfortunately were in fact the y/n called for. not wanting to deal with small talk, he immediately turns to nick, “the second one is best, nick. alright, let’s go.”

nick looks over to him, throwing his hands up loosely, “ohh, now you wanna be helpful whe-" he closes his mouth when he sees you over matt's shoulder, "did you know y/n's here?” his eyebrows draw together and he swiftly grabs a tall bottle of Absolut and places it in matt’s arms before walking around him (ignoring his hand’s poor attempt to hold nick back).

you’re too busy discussing which vodka tastes best with a few of your friends to notice nick walking up to you guys. you only look over once you hear a snap followed by a hushed “matt!”

you host a tender smile when you recognize the two tattooed boys, “nick? what are you doing here?” you glance from nick to matt who seems to be holding a full bar's worth of liquor while nick holds nothing but a tote bag and sunglasses he enjoys fidgeting with.

“y/n, i have a party i’m hosting tonight why would i not be here? now the real question is why are you here at 11:30 AM?” he jokes, squinting his eyes at you.

“same reason as you,” you shrug then realize you haven’t introduced your friends properly. “oh! and these are my friends; i texted you about bringing along, remi, erin, and andrea.” they each wave slightly as you gesture to them.

after an exchange of greetings and smiles (though you could tell matt’s was so phoney), nick backtracks, “okay but actually why are you here?”

“did you think i was joking? i’m getting drinks for your party!”

“i mean this in the kindest way possible: why?”

“i wasn’t gonna show up empty handed! it’s common courtesy to bring you guys something whether or not you ask.” you insist and matt fights the urge to roll his eyes.

he knows you have no mal-intent but god damn do you make yourself look so fucking pretentious.

“yeah, we’re trying to figure out what would be the best kind to bring right now,” erin chimes in.

nick immediately agrees, “oh my god, tell me about it. i was just struggling with that too!” and he turns to matt to validate, see! it’s not stupid to care about possibly buying the wrong thing!

matt just rolls his lips into his mouth, trying to give anyone a fucking clue that the conversation should be wrapping up by now.

“we’ll probably just end up getting pink whitney,” andrea reaches for the bottle on a nearby shelf.

matt can feel your eyes on him but he chooses to keep looking down at nick's ugg boots as if they’re the most interesting thing he’s seen.

you shift your eyes back to nick who’s still talking to andrea before you begin to speak, “well, i’m sure you guys are busy, you know, party planning.”

suprisingly, matt speaks up to agree with you, "yeah, you’re right actually. we are pretty busy."

nick cuts in with a shake of his head, “well, we’re actually not doing much before the party starts, honestly. we’ll probably just drop this off at the warehouse and set up a little, then go home, right matt?” nick shrugs to his brother who's eyes only widen with a look of question, “oh that's so true, matt!" he turns back to the girls with a smirk, "if you guys want you should come hang out with us now!”

matt wishes he currently had a free hand so that he could slap it over nicks mouth and drag him away before he sells his own kidney next.

"oh that's okay, we still have some stuff at home to do before we even think to get ready, but we'll be there tonight," you smile and look over to the girls who each agree.

"okay, we'll see you around then." matt tilts his head to the side encouraging nick to follow as he walks away.

"you have my insta so just dm me if you need anything. okay, bye! don’t forget swimsuits!" nick smiles and waves before rushing to catch up to matt who has already left the aisle.

౨ৎ

“i still can’t believe y/n was there, like what are the odds?!” nick giddily sighs and looks over to matt as the two walk out of the store.

“yeah, how fuckin’ weird," he murmurs, adjusting the brown bags in his hands to reach for the keys hanging from his belt loop. "small world, i guess.”

౨ৎ

“how the fuck are you so calm?” you ask in shock from behind the bat squishmellow you hold while sitting on nick’s baby pink couch, legs crossed.

“y/n, it’s like the teeniest, babiest tattoo ever,” andrea almost laughs as she takes another bite of a miniature rice krispy treat.

this “get together” at the warehouse has been a hit as far as you can tell. when you and your friends arrived it was already rowdy with people everywhere, music pounding, and bottles of alcohol scattered on the counters of a kitchenette (where you placed your own bottle of pink whitney, tied with a dainty white ribbon). you all found nick early on dancing in a crowd of people. he gave out hugs and easily convinced andrea and remi to let him tattoo them. after looking over the flash sheet nick made specifically for tonight, the girls decided to get matching cherry tattoos.

nick’s work area was so soft. he had bright hues of berry hugging his walls in the form of posters and paintings and faint creamsicle colored pillows to keep his couch company. when you all first walked in he explained how much he enjoys when clients bring in a friend so he had to make sure they had a comfy place to sit. you found nick so endearing in that since, he’s very caring and thoughtful despite his attitude at times (a far more understandable attitude than matt’s).

“it’s soo small,” nick adds, “i still think you two should get one,” he smirks looking over to you and erin huddled on the couch.

“hell no, i think i'm good for like another year," you shake your head and look over to erin while you gently run your fingers over your tattooed lower hip.

"yeah, absolutely not. i'm not even close to drunk enough to do that shit right now." she laughs.

౨ৎ

matt finds joint rolling to be the most satisfying part of smoking. the precision needed to perfectly fill, wrap, and burn makes him giddy in his own matt-kind-of-way.

after working on his last client (who wanted a somewhat abstract piece for the lowkey means of a “free tiny tats event”) and successfully sneaking through the crowd to grab a snack then sneaking back into his work area, he wanted nothing more than to get high alone.

he begins to gather his spare weed, grinder, and rolling papers from a spot tucked away in a drawer. he stops by his desk to turn his speaker back on, playing hushed kendrick lamar thorughout the space.

he taps his fingers along to the beat before sitting in a chair and displaying the items in front of him. he begins to grind the weed while humming, only to be interrupted fairly quickly.

"matttt!" chris peeks his grinning face through the curtain before taking it upon himself to walk in, "what are you doin' all alone in here?" matt pauses his movements with a sigh.

"no way you were rolling up and not planning to share? what the fuck?" chris pries in jest, rolling a chair over to sit in front of matt.

"dude, 'm so over this fuckin' party. i was planning to just smoke this and go nap on nick's couch or something." matt explains as he carefully lays the weed in the paper.

"you were barely even out there! got all your clients to text you whenever they got here." chris mumbles a scoff. "that is not the fuckin' point of this by the way, supposed to be meeting new people." chris rolls his eyes leaning himself so far into the chair that his back has practically met the seat.

"at least i'm doing something, you've only given like a tat or two all night," matt mumbles, slowly filling the white paper with weed.

because chris knows he's right he deflects the conversation to the reason he even came searching for matt in the first place. he clears his throat, playing with his fingers, "nick wants to take the girls up to the hot tub."

"thought we weren't allowing randoms up there anymore?" matt smirks at the memory of nick just hours before lecturing the both of them on what ground rules needed to be set so people don't demolish their shop for the fourth time now.

"obviously if they're with nick they're not just randoms." chris shakes his head, "pretty sure it's y/n and some friends she brought along. you remember that girl, right? she was-"

matt stops sealing the blunt to respond, "uh huh, i remember her."

chris lets out a breath, causing matt to finally look up and make eye contact with his brother (after spending their entire conversation too focused on rolling) in surprise at his pause in speaking.

"yeah, she's cool." chris yawns.

"i guess." matt says while finishing off the joint.

matt then lifts his hand up to give chris a view of his rolled joint. "stellar." chris smiles and matt hands it him, "swear you have a gift for this shit or somethin'." chris holds it in different angles near his face.

matt just shrugs and reaches for the tiny red lighter in his back pocket, "light that bitch up," he encourages chris.

"wait, no, let's save it for hot-tubbing."

"no? let's not? i didn't roll it for anyone but myself, let alone a group of barbies."

"be nice, matt."

"give me it, chris," matt rolls his eyes and signals with his fingers for chris to hand it over. “also who says i’m joining you guys in there?”

chris hands the joint back over to matt who’s immediately putting it in his mouth and bringing it towards the lighter’s flame, “nick wants the both of us up there, he thinks it’ll be fun.”

matt’s words come out quieter now that he’s speaking with smoke held in his lungs, “is he shit faced?” matt exhales the smoke as he speaks, “you know he thinks anything is ‘fun’ when he’s drunk.”

he takes another hit while chris explains, “no he’s actually really fuckin’ coherent, hasn’t had anything compared to me.” he smirks knowingly.

“not too much of this for you then,” matt exhales and passes the blunt over to chris. “so who’s gonna be hosting this party if we’re all on the roof?” matt asks squinting at him while playing with the soft edge of his graphic tee shirt.

chris’ face hides behind the smoke he releases, “we have dontae and claire working tonight too, they know how to deal with shit. i’m not too worried.”

“cool, so nick has contradicted himself twice already tonight, what happened to ‘one of us three should always be keeping an eye out’?” matt questions.

chris shakes his head, handing matt the smoked down joint, “literally how am i supposed to know why that kid thinks the way he does?”

matt licks his lips with a smile at his brothers comment then goes to hit the blunt once more.

“but i do know you need trunks on asap, brother.” chris lifts himself up, feeling a little looser now that he’s quite faded, and begins to dig through matt’s backpack in the corner of the room.

“why the fuck are my trunks just casually in my bag?”

“i put ‘em in there knowing you wouldn’t listen when we told you to pack them.”

“because i’m never getting in the pool at a party, that sounds terrible.”

“you think everything sounds terrible,” chris rolls his eyes throwing the plain black swimming trunks at matt’s chest.

౨ৎ

“‘kay so the game is just called, “i dare you…” but we’re gonna play it like drink or dare,” chris explains before taking another sip of his pepsi (he’s attempting to ‘sober up’ before playing a drinking game). “assuming the crowd knows what drink or dare is..?” chris looks around to everyone to confirm. there’s quite a lot of people in the spacious hot tub: you and your friends, the triplets, asha, and two of the triplets’ friends nathan and cameron.

when everyone nods in understanding chris explains something about the order to follow and how to discard any used cards, but you only loosely pay attention. instead, your eyes keep an unfaltering stare on matt who sits across from you with the shadows of his face highlighted light blue from the water below and a warm amber from the outdoor lighting above.

he wears his hair messy and his signature silver chain that reflects in the water harshly. you find yourself focusing on his tattooed hands (large in proportion to the joint he’s just finished rolling), and his pink tongue that has slipped out a number of times to lick at the joint and secure its shape.

he’s so into his own task he hasn’t even acknowledged your presence really. somehow that bothers you and attracts you to him at the same time. his face is so neutral as well, it’s not easy to find matt without a resting bitch face and an foul mood to match.

you feel andrea’s hand guide up your back, carrying water in its trail. you still continue in your curious trance until she leans down to your ear, “don’t start drooling now.”

you immediately look up towards her (as she’s sat on the ledge of the hot tub, cautious of her new arm tattoo). she barks out a laugh and you try not to laugh as well, punching the side of her leg instead.

“what did i miss? what are we giggling aboutt?!” nick excitedly asks as he climbs into the hot tub and sits in the empty spot to the left of you. you turn and greet him with a smile and he immediately hands you one of the many beer bottles he holds, “here, take one, pass it down.”

“oh it was nothing, thank you.” you reply when handed the final bottle.

nick nods before swatting at chris who still stands in the middle of the hot tub, “kid, you can sit down now, i think we all got it.”

chris looks over to nick, “you go first then, nick. i’ll queue up a few songs.” he shifts a floaty that holds a set of cards in it towards nick before taking a seat next to erin (you can overhear him introducing himself even though your attention is on nick as he draws).

“who’s the bright one who chose a game with cards to be done in water?” nick jokes finally looking at the card.

“i’m sure you can guess,” asha laughs next to him.

you watch as nick’s face welcomes a large grin upon reading his dare. “okay…i’m reading this out loud, right?”

“i thought ‘we all got it’?” chris jokes and watches nick deadpan, “yes, nick just say it.”

“this one’s easy, ‘i dare you to make one of the group members crack a smile in less than a minute.’” nick adjusts himself to face nathan, “nate look at me.”

“oh come on nick, nate laughs at everything when he’s drunk.” matt talks despite his lips closing over the joint he’s just about to light.

“i don’t!” nate says before looking over to cameron, who elbows his side, making nathan giggle and cover his face. “no! for real, try me nick.” he adjusts his expression to be serious but just as nick opens his mouth to speak nathan explodes in sudden laughter causing the rest of the group to laugh as well.

even matt laughs into his arm as he passes the joint to remi, next to him.

౨ৎ

as the group continued playing the dares leveled in dirty extremity. asha nibbled on cameron’s ear like a hamster, nathan texted a friend asking to have a threesome, cameron licked sugar off of andrea (who very much enjoyed it), until finally it was matt’s turn.

matt’s been far more sociable and charismatic this entire time spent in the hot tub than you’ve seen him before. but you can’t tell if it’s the weed and alcohol or even just the fact that he’s surrounded by a group with some of his close friends that’s bringing this out of him. you’re shocked the only nagging he’s done was to break up a small argument between his brothers and of course make fun of you, mouthing “you scared?” after you denied hitting the joint for a second time. you mouthed back “no” and rolled your eyes at him but his playful smirk never left.

matt hangs his head and stifles laughter after reading his card, “i dare you to bend over backwards and let the rest of the group spank you, chose who’s best.”

“oh my god!” chris’ laugh is higher in pitch now that he’s extremely high.

“guys i really don’t wanna,” he sighs.

“matt, don’t be lame! you’ll be the first one who’s drinking,” asha encourages.

“fuck this game,” he mumbles under his breath before adjusting himself to lean over the hot tub, everyone laughing at the sight. it was fun to see matt so unserious for once.

after taking turns to hit matt’s ass, he decided the fourth person’s was the best, per his dare’s request, and nathan celebrates with a throw of his hands in the air.

remi then performs a trust fall with the person she trusts least in the group, cameron (who she told there was no hard feelings since they’d only met today), making it now erin’s turn.

she blushes at her card before reading aloud, “i dare you to give a lap dance to the hottest person in the group.” she bites her lip in embarrassment but nonetheless leans over to chris and requests a song in his ear.

chris smiles and taps his phone as erin adjust herself to standing. “this is gonna be hard to do in water,” she messes with her hair.

“you’ll be fine!” you encourage with a smile.

“alright, you ready?” chris looks up to erin and she nods in response.

body party by ciara begins to play sensually through the nearby speaker gaining a few “oouuu”s from the group.

what you don’t expect is for erin to lean herself in front of matt. and matt definitely doesn’t expect this either, but he’s not too mad about it.

“oh shitttt,” cameron grins, he and nathan occupied in their own awkward-laughing fit while watching with wide eyes.

she moves slowly and hovers matt in a straddling position to “grind” on him. you take a heavy sip of your drink while watching in an attempt to hide your odd feeling about this. it was like watching a car crash. you watch as matt’s eyes gaze up and down her body, not daring to touch her but unashamed of his attraction.

asha laughs and whistles in support when erin turns around to give matt a view of her ass. nick dramatically ducks behind you yelling, “i actually can’t watch this! oh my god!”

you laugh and to mess with him whisper, “don't worry, it’s over now.”

nick looks back and immediately goes back to covering his eyes and laughing with you, “you bitch!”

you look back to matt who tilts his head back with wide eyes and lips puffing out in humor. and finally, after it feels like the two have dry humped for hours, erin stands back up and bows. matt claps with a wide smile, everyone else joining in.

when erin sits down you look up to andrea who just stifles a laugh with a sip of her drink. “well how the fuck am i gonna top that shit?!” chris exclaims while grabbing a card.

“real question is how the fuck will matt recover from that?” you joke causing matt to look over to you.

“oh don’t worry about me, sweetheart. i’m sure i’ll recover fine. chris,” he lifts his head gesturing for chris to begin his dare.

your tongue travels along your teeth to stop yourself from ruining a good time with your confusing feelings.

“i dare you to give a hickey to the person to your left.” chris bites his bottom lip and blinks slowly before looking over to andrea who just smiles and playfully flutters her fingers at him.

“you’re cool with this right, ‘m not tryna make you uncomfortable or any-”

“chris, shh.” andrea says.

“'kay, where do you want it?” he smiles.

“let’s make this fun,” she adjusts her bikini top and presses her manicured fingers along her right breast, “right here.”

nick is extra dramatic when it comes to watching chris suck harshly on his new friend’s tit, “okay, why the fuck did we choose this game?!” he turns away.

when chris is finished andrea shows it off to the group as proof and pushes chris’ cocky face away with a laugh, “nice job, stupid.”

afterwards, andrea gets a dare to expose her search history with the group, which she does without a problem.

it’s finally your turn to pick a card. “i dare you to lick whipped cream off a person of your choice.”

“oouu who’s it gonna beee?” nick nudges into your side.

you look around the hot tub, wanting to pick someone unpredictable, “ashaaa, you haven’t had much to do yet?” you look over to the girl who now has wide eyes and a growing smile.

“okay, yeah let’s do it,” she shrugs. “nate could you go get whipped cream, please?”

once nathan’s back you move closer to asha and decide to put whipped cream on her shoulder. “it tickles,” she giggles when you lick the entire dollop off of her easily.

you both laugh and you lick your lips as you head back to your seat.

౨ৎ

after another round it’s finally matt’s turn again, he draws a card that reads: give a kiss anywhere, on the person you’d “take home to mama.”

matt slowly stands and rubs his chin with a devious smile. “ummm,” he draws out, giving multiple looks at everyone before he walks over and hovers over you. you’re shocked by your body’s ease when his wet hand lifts to hold your face and his lips connect to yours. the kiss isn’t sloppy, but rather needy. you were just getting used to the taste of the bitter beer he’d just been drinking when he pulls away and steps back, unfazed.

you blink and wipe your fingers around your lips as matt wipes a hand over his eyes while laughing to himself.

“mom, would love y/n,” chris adds, calling back to the initial dare that led to that stomach turning kiss.

“'course she would, she’s a fucking saint.” matt sighs.

you squint your eyes and tilt your head, “i wouldn’t say that…”

“yeah, shit, my bad.” matt spreads his legs across from you, “forgot you have that little tattoo. i’m sure you’re not such a good girl anymore.”

you’re fucking annoyed now. you hate that he thinks you're inferior to him in any way. “hey where’s that ashtray, chris?” you ask, adjusting your seated position.

“uh, here,” he reaches behind him and places it on the same floaty as the cards, along with the lighter.

“you guys are cool to keep going,” you say and take the abandoned joint in your hand to relight it.

matt watches in spiteful anticipation.

“take it slow, and hold it” andrea explains to you in a whisper, knowing you’d never smoked in your life.

erin begins her dare to prank call a customer service line and dirty talk them when you take a hit of the joint.

matt eyes never leave your bothered figure as you inhale and cause the tip of the joint to light a bright red. he can tell you’re trying to prove a point which makes it more amusing to him when your eyes begin to water after you shakily exhale and attempt to hold back a cough.

“don’t hurt yourself.” matt quips under his breath.

౨ৎ

the group hadn’t realized just how long they’d been in the hot tub nor how drunk they all are until they struggled to get out and back to the main floor of the warehouse.

though, lots of giggles and piggyback rides helped them all stay together as they traveled back, cold and still damp. all partygoers were gone at that point, leaving the warehouse empty yet a mess.

nick (being the self-proclaimed good host he is) led the mass of drunk people to the bathrooms and brought extra graphic tee shirts and sweatpants to change into from the many boxes of merch sold in their tattoo shop. the boys had insisted that everyone just sleep at the warehouse due to their abundance of couches and chairs and their fear in sending anyone home in an uber at close to 3 AM.

matt is throwing pieces of trash in a large black trash bag when you step out from the bathroom near the colorful kitchenette of the warehouse.

he glances up when you approach slowly, feeling yourself sobered up quite a bit after peeing and washing your face.

“hey,” his voice is rough in tiredness.

“hey, do you have any water over here?” you ask politely, your lips taste salty when you lick over them.

“in the fridge,” he replies, crumbling wrappers and adding to his bag.

you notice how red and puffy his eyes truly are now that you’re this close to him and in better lighting. you walk past him to get to the fridge, almost completely empty after a long-lasting and full party.

“are you sleeping any time soon?” you ask, opening the water bottle.

“i don’t know.”

“i can always help you clean this if you need me to.”

“‘m good.” he analyzes a glass bottle to decide whether it’s worth keeping.

you nod your head, “cool.”

“you should probably sleep.” matt suggests looking over to you.

“i think i can decide that for myself, thanks.” you drink more of your water.

“you’re right i can only suggest. i’m suggesting you to go to sleep. and if you do stay up i'd suggest you don’t spend your time talking to me.”

you finish off your water and move closer to matt, placing it in the bag. “you truly know how to piss a girl off.”

“it’s my specialty.” he whispers and looks over your face now that you’re so close.

he’s so fucking hot that it genuinely upsets you at this point. you just back up and turn to go find the couch andrea’s decided to sleep on.

“goodnight, sunshine.” he calls after you, going back to his cleaning.

you're not too far away when you hear the bathroom door open and once again matt is greeting someone, only when you look over your shoulder you see erin approaching and matt leaning on the island counter with a smile.

you turn the corner with irritation. and you find yourself in the unfortunate position of having a problematic crush on matt while wanting nothing to do with him at all.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[skywardscroll]

the language of love

✧ summary: mondstadt boys (diluc, kaeya, albedo, & venti) and their love languages.

✧ warnings: mention of death & depression in Venti’s. gender neutral reader!

✧ a/n: my first headcanon post! it’s p cute, me thinks :D <3 hope you all like it!!

Love Language: gift giving

✧ Diluc was a mysterious man. Though you two were an item for a long while now, you were still finding out new things about him every day.

✧ In the last week, you found out that when he piles up his parchment, he preferred it the be placed longways, rather than vertical, on the edge of his desk, and that he disliked white grape juice, but loved red grape juice.

✧ Today, which was valentine’s day, you learned that Diluc, though clueless on what to get most of the time, loved buying gifts.

✧ It was a sacred form of love to him, buying someone a gift. He only ever did it to people he really loved.

He stared at you silently in subdued anticipation. He spent a month searching for the perfect gift, getting council from various shopkeepers and friends, always thinking Maybe there’s something better. Diluc knew, deep down, that you would be happy with anything. You were always so gracious, never expecting anything and always being thankful for the small gifts Diluc would sometimes give you. He trusted that you understood that he was not the best at voicing his feelings, but that he felt he could properly show his love and feel loved in return when giving you gifts.

Tearing into the red wrapping paper (Lisa and Klee wrapped it for him!), you let out a small gasp at seeing the gift he bought for you.

The Shared Experience: A Poetry Collection was a collection you had your eyes on for a while. Diluc, not being one for flowery language like that, even found himself taken with the compilation with poetry from all over Teyvat. Somehow, these poets from Fontaine, Natlan, and the likes, had managed to put into words what he wished he could say to you.

It was the perfect Valentine’s present, which was only to be expected from Diluc, who used gifts to show his love.

Love language: words of affirmation

✧ Unlike his brother, Kaeya probably spent 80% of his time telling you how much he loved you, how pretty you were, and how lucky you were to have such a handsome boyfriend.

✧ (The last one always earned him a gentle fist to the arm and a groan of half-hearted disagreement from you. Totally worth it everytime. You’re so cute.)

✧ He holds you in such high regard, thinking you’re the better half of him.

✧ He fell in love with you because you brought out the best in him.

✧ You were always there to make him feel better when the stress of being a Knight got to him. Tonight was, sadly, one of those instances.

“Y/N?” His sweetened voice, which always seemed to lift your spirits, had an exhausted tone to it. And, considering how much he liked to talk, especially to you, you were able to pick up on this immediately.

“Kaeya? Are you okay?”

He didn’t say anything, instead just sitting beside you on your couch and laying his head in your lap, completely blocking your view of the book you were previously reading. Of course, you didn’t mind, though. You’d rather spend time with Kaeya anyway.

Truthfully, you had a feeling that something like this was coming. He’d been particularly busy during the week with hardly enough time to spend leisurely.

“You work so hard…” You sighed, running your fingers through his dark hair. You could feel his shoulders relax against your legs immediately as he laid in silence. “I’m so proud of all you do for Mondstadt. You are a true hero. I’m so lucky to call you mine.”

He didn’t say anything – no smart remarks, no smirking or joking. He just laid there with his eyes staring up at you.

He loved you. So much.

Love language: physical touch

✧ Frankly, it surprised you how often Albedo just wanted to be as close to you as possible.

✧ He’s reserved, you know, and he likes his space. PDA is certainly not his thing.

✧ But… At home is different.

✧ At home, he always requests to have your hand in his and he always wants to lay with you (though, this does conflict with his desire to work constantly.)

✧ But the feeling of your skin on his was just so fascinating.

It was the temperature difference; he was sure of it.

The warmth of your body compared to his, which was always on the cold side, made his heart flutter with… Something. Love, he hypothesized it was.

Actually, maybe it was just the feeling of your skin – Your skin, which was just so soft; so smooth and comforting against his calloused fingertips (the downside of being an artist.)

Speaking of which, you were painting again. He encouraged you to tap into your artistic side, even lending you his painting equipment. Though, he failed to foresee the frustration that came with it.

“Bedo… I can’t do this.” You whined, putting down the paintbrush before rubbing your tired eyes.

“You can. Here.” He came up from behind you, sliding his hands down your forearm until his hand encapsulated yours. He slowly lifted your hand, dragging the paintbrush in your grasp against the canvas. “Try doing small circles. It makes the texture look right.”

He didn’t want to let go, but he did. Seeing the blush against your supple cheeks made him smile.

Whatever the reason, there was one thing he wouldn’t question: His love for you.

Love language: acts of service

✧ It’s an unwritten rule of the Archons that you just don’t fall in love with the people you’ve sworn to protect.

✧ Venti knew it was foolish of him. You were a mortal, someone who would die  before he could even blink.

✧ But he couldn’t help but be enamored by you because, when his role as Archon became overwhelming, somehow you knew just what to do to help.

Stanley was in another fit of depression, Klee was moments away from accidentally burning down a building, and Anthony was in the fountain… again.

This week was just… A lot.

Venti wanted nothing more than to just sit underneath the Windrise tree with a bottle or two of wine and his lyre. He knew he had all eternity to do so, but after the week he’d had, he really needed to take a break.

You didn’t know of Venti’s… true nature yet. He knew it was wrong to keep it from you, but how was he to say ‘hey, you know Barbatos? Yeah, that’s me’ without sounding crazy?

The thing was: He didn’t need to tell you. Somehow, you just knew that he was going through a lot even without him saying so. And, still without your full understanding, you helped him in so many ways around Mondstadt on your good nature alone.

Today was exceptionally quiet, though. When you returned home and asked him how his day was, he could truthfully say that it was rather uneventful.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“Oh! Today, I happened to run into Klee before she burned down the pier. Apparently, it’s the second time she’s almost destroyed Mondstadt? I love her, but she’s such trouble sometimes.”

Venti hid his shock easily, as it was soon replaced with admiration and thankfulness for you.

“It’s a good thing you were there, then.” He spoke.

[mariacallous]

Dear ms callous, one of my mutuals-in-law is supremely annoying in so so so many ways but is also a very bright person with an incredibly narrow scope of absolutely correct, insightful takes. The problem is that the things this mutual annoys me with are very un-self aware and status-oriented like making casual and maybe even unintentional assumptions and remarks about people based on what school they went to (or where MIL believes they went to) and how much they earn (or how much MIL believes they earn/should earn). I mean obviously the right answer is to block and move on with my life but i also want to reach out and legitimately ask this person if they understand how disrespectful those assumptions are. They're always posting about compassion but i sense a deeply stung, wounded ego around this stuff (bc this person clearly didn't go to harvard or yale or princeton themselves, but also clearly wasn't making a FB developer's salary either). We all have blind spots but it does kind of hurt as someone who didn't go near the Ivy's for a variety of reasons but did somehow manage to make something of myself despite what family/society/this mutual think. Appreciate any thoughts on this!

I think that part of the issue might be, if you were to reach out and (calmly and respectfully) ask if they realize what they're saying and how it comes across, if they are as self-absorbed and unaware as you indicate, whether they would understand and realize and respond to you or whether they would double-down and continue, and whether it would be worth your time and energy to engage and then maybe/possibly/likely be frustrated and back where you started.

Also, as this went on longer than I expected, I'll do a read more (also because I got very personal about myself).

I get it though - my parents are pretty solidly middle-class (although it's a declining thing, as things got and have gotten worse or fallen into a stasis starting in my teen years) and couldn't afford a lot of things and so I knew I'd be mostly on my own and having to figure stuff out, and also weirdly reliant on them for other things. So while a lot of my friends were getting into UCs and privates (my best friend got into George Washington University, before coming back to UC Berkeley after going to Berkeley City College for a bit, and others got into Stanford and Georgetown), and even while I was getting accepted to Roosevelt in Chicago and the University of Canberra, I had to go to the community college near where we lived, and then I ended up, because of costs and requirements, going to state schools in the Midwest, and I've had to stop and start at college multiple times, and those same friends are now working at various tech and consulting groups making the FB developer salaries and owning homes or nice apartments and condos in San Francisco or Los Angeles and getting married and having kids (and having spouses with similar strategies) and I'm...not, lol, and I don't have mommy and daddy (or grandparents) with their several years at various law firms and corporations and home equity and savings and trusts to help me or give me connections.

So I have fairly large chips on my shoulder, because a lot of "normal" or average experiences or options (for my parents, even, when they were younger)...weren't the case for me and for the people I've worked with and dealt with over the last decade plus, and I've had to decide what to sacrifice or skimp to get other things (when I graduated from my undergrad, I had nowhere to go and almost no furniture and minimal belongings that I brought with me to college and ended up being the third roommate in a 2-bedroom apartment and living off a stipend I got from a nonprofit I worked with of about $500 a month, until I finally got hired by the public health department in Fargo, and then one of the roommates moved out to take a live-in job so I finally got my own room), and what to do without or stretch, and I constantly feel insecure and shabby. Especially because my parents and my sisters were more of the country mice with our city mice uncles and aunts, who were particularly clueless and thoughtless (and who accused my parents of stealing or withholding things and who held finances over them), and we didn't get a ton of new stuff and our home had to end up going to the home flippers because we couldn't afford the mortgage and the maintenance and it got black mold (and which I helped my parents figure out and coordinate from North Dakota, and which meant all of the stuff I left behind at home got trashed and ruined).

All of which is way more than I meant to say or bring up and which is tangential to my point, which is that I've worked and struggled (and still doing both) to get to where I'm at now, which is Better but not Great (the last year or two is the first time I've made more than $50,000/year since I started working) and it is incredibly hurtful to, hopefully and likely, see that devalued or denigrated by someone, who it sounds like is more secure financially and socially, and also because of how divorced it is from the reality of so many people, and probably so many people we both know and deal with. (It's why I've complained/ranted about the way people talk about the Midwest or "flyover country" or rural areas, having lived there and dealt directly with the people and issues involved)

And I think it's also just fundamentally tacky and crude and betrays a lack of thought and class and discretion (and having grown up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I'm used to seeing that) and doesn't recognize or acknowledge the people who have worked and struggled and who didn't go to Ivies or who didn't have well-off family or connections or who didn't grow up in the nice(r) parts of the Coasts and so forth.

This is way longer than I intended, and I don't want to further show how bitter *I* am or how wounded and stung my pride is, but all of this is to say that I Get It, and to make sure that you do what's best for you to be able to enjoy things, and to also recognize all the work you've put in and how far you've come and what your successes and achievements are.

[ironmandeficiency]

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

[dolliedarlin]

hello love! happy saturday!

i hope this week hasn’t been too stressful for you! i hope that you’ve been able to finish any homework you’ve had and if you’ve had any tests you’ve passed them all :) although i’m confident you have because you’re amazing like that ;)

how have you been? how’s university? what have you been up to lately?

this week has been incredibly stressful and not too great for me. i’ve been buried in homework and when i wasn’t at school, i was at work. while i’m thankful that i’ll now have some spare money to do things with, i am grateful for todays break. and also my friend that i talk about a lot on here has blocked me on all social media, which is a lot more heartbreaking than i thought it would be. i’m not really sure the real reason why, but as his girlfriend dislikes me, it is most likely because she did not want us to communicate anymore. and while it breaks my heart because i miss my friend dearly, im doing my best to understand and am being respectful on their decision.

i’ve taken up journaling again. i find it feels better to write down my thoughts because the more i write them down, the less that i find them constantly circulating around in my head. it’s brought me some comfort which i enjoy.

my sleep schedule hasn’t been to great lately but i don’t do well when i’m upset/stressed. i’m doing my best to fix it, but it’ll take some time. i have decided i need to do a new routine now that part of my routine has changed.

im sorry for the cloud of negativity but i promise i’m doing better today than i was a few days ago. i’m taking today as a sort of self care day and am working on making myself feel better. i’m also going to finish the rest of my homework and hopefully get some time to myself. i’ve decided to clean my bedroom to try to give myself some comfort with a clean room and have been in communication with my friends (including you <3)

while everything has been difficult to deal with im working on keeping positivity for next week and telling myself it can only go up from here. and while i didn’t want to post any negativity, i did want to update you on what’s going on right now.

i hope you’ve been doing well and i wanted to remind you that you are an incredible person and i am very thankful for your friendship! i love talking to you and hearing from you and i hope you’ve been doing well lately <3

lots of love,

liv

i feel so guilty not having replied to you for so long that i need to reply to a second check-in with you, my deepest apologies, dollface, i'll do better in the future when replying to you because seeing your messages and hearing about your week is always a highlight in mine <3

no! you're amazing for always being such an embodiment of sunshine in my life, even if it's only through the internet, i can't imagine not having you and your kind messages and check ins in my life anymore XD you have such a wonderful impact on people, i'm so blessed to have met such a beautiful person such as you -^7^-

thank you again for all your kind words and positive messages, i sincerely hope that all is well and happy with you as well and that your school work atop other commitments are going well and aren't too overwhelming, though if they do get to that point, please take a step back and breathe if you can

oh darling, i'm sorry you're having to go through so much, i hate seeing you heartbroken like this and with such a demanding schedule with school and work too. but again, you're such an angel for being respectful and understanding the situation, a lot of people can learn so much from your kindness and understanding, however, i want to reiterate that it's also very healthy to let out that stress and frustration and heartbreak somehow, perhaps watch/listen to sad movies/songs to help you cry it out or go for a walk somewhere beautiful or something like that, it'll help clear your mind and ground you after so you don't feel as down

that's perfect! i'm proud of you for taking that step into self care and doing what makes you feel good whilst surrounding yourself with good company too, if you ever feel the need for a more intimate chat, feel free to message me privately to talk things out and i promise nothing will leave that chat, whatever is said there stays there - gosh, i wish i could just cuddle you and make you some hot chocolate, my poor baby, you've been through a lot in such little time, i'm sad but also so proud at how you stayed strong and understanding without getting bitter

also! don't ever say sorry about 'negativity', yes i want my blog to be a wholesome happy safe space but it's very necessary to face the negativity to because where is the good if there's no bad additionally! whatever your feelings and experiences are, all of them are valid and you should never ever feel bad for how you feel; it's not a crime to go through some slumps and feel bad when you're in said slump, in fact, letting out that negativity and talking to someone about it is very important <3

i hope the same for you as well and i am also very thankful for your friendship, it's become something so precious to me and i look forward to your messages always

all my love,

dollie x

[debiteful]

Would it be possible to request this?: It's winter, and a naga haven't been able to find shelter in time. A friend of their's, either an anthro!pelican or merperson, came to them and offered them a warm place to stay. The naga couldn't help but chuckle a bit, because how where they supposed to carry something as big and long as a naga? However their friend did end up surprising them. (Contains: Safe vore, same size (possibly larger prey), willing.)

Contains: Safe vore, soft vore, larger willing naga prey, anthro pelican pred, large bulging belly, mild discomfort, protection vore

Normally Nick didn't spend much time where other people were. They were noisy, smelly, and distrustful of nagas like him. However, this winter had been unkind to him so far. The first big snow had come before he expected it and it had collapsed a large part of the roof of his home out in the wilderness. Between the icy shell around everything and the bitter winds, he hadn't been able to find materials to repair it. He had been essentially homeless for a couple days now. His scales were dull and he was shivering constantly; being half warmblooded just wasn't enough with this weather!

He was thankful that his food stash had escaped most of the damage. Being hungry on top of all this would've been awful. However those supplies wouldn't last forever.

Today he was looking forward to a supply drop-off from his favorite mailman, Samoset. The stout pelican wasn't one to chatter on meaninglessly, and was fairly tolerable compared to most people. He always had something good to say and was very serious about his duties. Nick liked to think that they were friends, though the state of their relationship had never been spoken about.

The shivering naga waited all day for his friend to arrive, but he never came. At first he thought the delivery bird might just be running late; it wouldn't be the first time. However, as the day wore on, and there was still no sign of him, Nick began to get frustrated.

As the sun was setting, he decided he had had enough. Sammy just wasn't coming it seemed. Beyond that, the clouds were low and dark, sure signs of a snow storm coming. He didn't want to spend all night in the miserable weather. The Naga slithered out, shivering all the while, intent on getting to town.

Meanwhile, Samoset was having one heck of a day. The intern didn't show up to the mail room so he was left to sort it all out himself, and run deliveries. He got so caught up in the flurry of work that he nearly forgot about his special delivery. By the time he did remember, the sun was low on the horizon. He left the post office in a flustered flurry of feathers, the sled with the building materials for dear Nick trailing along behind.

The narrow forest trail was blanketed in snow, and by the looks of it more was on the way. Sam was thankful for his tall boots and that the wide sled glided on top of the thick snow. He trudged along dutifully, even as the first snow flakes started to fall.

The world became a cool, dark blue as twilight came and the sun went. He was only about half way to his destination, but something up ahead blocked his path. The long, dark form lay along the trail; what an odd way for a tree to fall. Samoset wasn't going to let a little hurdle like that stand in his way, especially when he had come so far.

As he approached, he made out limbs- hair and scales?! He threw the sled's tether back onto his cargo and hurried forward. He fell to his knees near the fallen naga's head. Sure enough, it was Nick, his whole body trembling.

He looked up at Sam with eyelids hanging low. He yawned as best he could despite chattering teeth, "Samoset? Finally."

The pelican chuckled, his empty pouch wobbling as he shook his head wryly; only Nick would be on death's icy doorstep and still gruff as ever. Sam brushed the snow off his friend, "Come on, I gotta get you somewhere safe and warm."

Nick giggled, the sound carrying on far too long and vibrating with his jaw. It was the first time Sam had heard him laugh at all! 

"What is it?" The concerned bird pressed.

"H-how issss a little g-guy like you gonn-na to c-carry a long, heavy fella like me any-where? I'm like- pure muscle and that ain't light-t-t." It took the words much too long to get out given how badly his teeth were chattering. His whole body spammed with each shiver now, leaving him twisted and quivering on the path. 

"Its okay," Sam assured him, "I got you now. Hauling around parcels all day has left me strong," he added with a grin. 

He knew what needed to happen next, but he was reluctant. It could completely alienate Nick. Even as a naga, Sam knew he didn't take live prey often. On top of that, they never were allowed back out.

He shuffled to the end of his friend's tail and picked it up in both hands. Then, he pushed it into his mouth, sending the tip right to the back to be swallowed. Hand over hand he pulls the scaley tail into his maw. With each gulp he picked up speed, the excess sagging into his mouth pouch and making it bulge. Cool scales clacked against his short beak as he devoured his friend.

All the while Nick hardly reacted. The warmth of the postmans body felt like he was being consumed by fire. His whole body burned with light pinpoints as his frozen nerves thawed. Sam could feel the tip of the serpents tail waving inside his gut, but the upper body was still except for the frequent involuntary shivers.

With expert precision Sam tucked Nick's hands into his mouth. The naga wiggled his fingers as they warmed, "Th-th-thanks".

That was the last word Samoset expected, and it brought a warm glow to his cheeks. He smiled and gulped down the last of his naga pal, his head sliding along the bottom of the stretchy mouth pouch.

Once his endangered friend was down, Sam was able to focus on just how full he was. Chill air nipped at his exposed belly through the fluffy layer of feathers that covered his body. His uniform had popped right open, leaving his stretched gut full of Nick sagging out freely. He could see rounded shapes of his friend coiled up into a bundle im his stomach. The tension ached a little, but it was well worth it. 

With work strengthened limbs he supported his massive belly, hands cradling its bulk while legs straightened and carried him back down the trail. When he got to the sled, he let his lumpy load rest upon the building supplies. The sled sank, but not completely. With a pleased grin, Sam pushed off and began the cold walk back into the town.

The streets were devoid of people thankfully. It wouldn't do to have the local postmaster become the talk of the town for eating someone. He pressed on merrily towards his home along the dark roads.

As he warmed up, Nick became more active inside him. Long coils shifted around to expose new areas to the warm, soft flesh that enveloped him. He also squirmed to get comfortable, much preferring the softness of Sam's belly or stomach walls to the firm base of building supplies that the stomach rested on.

When Samoset arrive home he crawled right into bed. He lay on his side with his giant belly cushioned on the mattress beside him. He was unsure how long Nick would need to recover. Hopefully the night was long enough, plus perhaps some warm drinks in the morning. And of course they would need to bring extra when they went to complete the roof repair. Thinking about it, he figured he should really just book the whole day off. Such thoughts filled Samoset's mind as he drifted off to sleep. Nick had already fallen asleep before reaching the house, so comforted and warm was he.

[flowerspecial]

“I’ll always come back to you” and “You said it was me and you forever” with Jackson

Dating Jackson was amazing, he was the sweetest person in the world and treated you like royalty. But having said that, there were parts of the relationship that were extremely difficult to handle sometimes. He was constantly jetting off around the world, meeting all these amazing people and creating amazing memories. Meanwhile you were stuck at home, under so much stress from life, it was easy to come to the conclusion that you maybe you two were too different to be last. You couldn’t help but feel like he was living the life that everyone envies, while you were being left behind and living the life that everyone was trying to avoid.

After a very stressful day, you walked into your home and threw your bag onto the floor. You took your shoes off and stomped your way over to the sofa where you fell onto it and lied down. You began to rub your temples to try and ease the pounding headache that had been present throughout most of the day, and you closed your eyes. Not being able to find solace in sleep, you decided to scroll through social media on your phone. But your mood quickly turned even more sour as you saw your boyfriend’s latest instagram posts. He was at some sort of event with GOT7, he was smiling widely to the camera and they were all hugging, clearly having the time of their lives. The post straight after was a photo of his latest gift from one of his sponsors. You didn’t mean to get jealous, heck Jackson has worked bloody hard to get to where he is, but you can’t help but feel envious when he is able to buy the whole Cartier store just for fun, while you struggle to pay for basic essentials like food. The thought of you two being from two different worlds was becoming harder and harder to ignore, and you couldn’t see what you brought to the table in your relationship. You felt like the mile stone around his neck, and you just didn’t want that feeling anymore.

Before you truly comprehend what you were about to do, you rang Jackson with a heavy heart and waited for him to answer.

“Hi baby.” He said as soon as he answered. You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you knew what you were about to do would destroy all of it. But you thought that this would be best in the long run. You knew that he should be free.

“Hi Jackson,” you began, taking a deep sigh. “I think we should break up.”

“I’m sorry what? Is this some sort of prank? Did one of the boys set this up?” Jackson spoke very quickly, a habit of his when he panics or is nervous.

“No Jackson it’s real, this relationship isn’t working so I think it’s best if we end it now.” Your tone was cold and stone like. But you needed this conversation to be over before he finds a way to change your mind. You could hear sniffles from the other end of the call, and your heart ached at the thought of Jackson crying.

“Baby please, you can’t do this to me.” Jackson struggled to get his words out as he gasped for air. He felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. “You said it was me and you forever.”

“I know I said that Jackson, but we are too different. I can’t keep feeling jealous of my own boyfriend. Every time I see you succeed I don’t even feel happy for you anymore, because my thoughts are clouded with my own misery of how awful my life is. It’s not fair on you if I despise you because you have everything I haven’t.”

“Then let me give you it!” Jackson practically shouted down the phone. “I will give you the world and more if you let me, you know that. It’s you who won’t let me buy you a new house, or a new car, or help get you a better job. I want to make your life better but you won’t let me!”

“Don’t you understand Jackson?! If I let you do all those things for me, I’m nothing more than a gold digger. I need to make my life better myself.” You were growing increasingly frustrated with the situation, and before you said something out of spite, you ended the call without a second glance and threw your phone on the ground.

After the phone call with Jackson, you decided it would be best to block him off everything. You needed time to build yourself up again, you wanted to prove to yourself that you could make your life better. Jackson had his ways though, his latest music would all have a similar theme of heartbreak and pining after lost love. He would send flowers to your house, not that you accepted them, you’d end up handing them out to anyone you saw.

Thankfully the whole experience wasn’t in vain though, as you did manage to make your life better. You focused on your studies, graduated with honours, and you even managed to get extra shifts around school so you were able to save that little bit of extra money. You worked hard, and it paid off. Sure your life still wasn’t as luxurious as Jackson’s, but you no longer resented your own. You were finally happy.

Your graduation had come around quicker than you anticipated, and as you walked off the stage after taking your diploma, you were greeted with a familiar face.

“Jackson?” You asked, as you looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”

He handed you a bouquet of flowers as he stood closer wanting to close the gap between you. “You know it’s funny, I’ve been all over the world more times than I can count, I’ve met some amazing people and have made so many great memories. But I’ll always come back to you.”

You smiled so widely you could feel your cheeks hurt. You took the flowers from him, and placed the other hand on his heart. “Good, because I’m never letting you go again.”

[malopascal]

Misery

Warning(s): crying, language, mention of alchol

A/N: This was inspired by this post

No words left Pedro’s parted lips as he softly panted, his eyes still staring down at the picture displaying on his phone. The gut-wrenching pain that he felt swell up in his chest was indescribable. He could barely feel his heart beating while tears slowly blurred his vision.

He knew very well that you were faking a smile, but the fact that you had decided to hurt him by going out with your ex and being photographed was more than enough to put the Chilean actor in a state of shock, pain, jealousy and anger.

He finally was able to blink and lock his phone, the image already burned in his brain. His phone was tossed onto the couch without a care while he slowly stood up from the couch and proceeded into pacing up and down his living room. His hands ran roughly through his delicate and silk hair before gripping the ends tightly, the stress and pain killing him.

He had so many questions.

Were you really considering getting back together with your ex while the two of you were on a break?

 Did you reach out to him first?

 Was Pedro nothing but a backup plan until your ex had his shit figured out?

The poor actor let out a frustrated groan as he stilled in the middle of the room, his breath shaky and the tears finally cascading down his handsome face. He couldn’t believe what was happening, the betrayal broke his heart.

When you had demanded a break from your relationship due to the constant fighting, he thought that you’d use the time to sit back and clear your mind. None of you could explain why the two of you couldn’t have a normal conversation without turning it into a screaming match. The reason why was because you were so focused on yelling and provoking each other that you didn’t bother to get to the bottom of your issues.

You didn’t give each other enough space and time to process every single disagreement through. Your work and inner pressure of having to be perfect had gotten the best of you, which resulted in the two of you becoming each other’s emotional punching bag. What had been a beautiful three-year relationship had now turned into bad one really quick. The love was still there though, it was just when the two of you were angry at each other, the whole world had to crash and burn to ashes.

If you hadn’t demanded a break, Pedro would’ve asked for it. You were the love of his life, but the two of you needed to fix your personal issues by yourselves. Not by constantly lashing out on each other. He wanted to marry you, expand your family of two with kids and spend the rest of his life with you.

But never would he have thought that two months into your break, you’d go back to your ex and humiliate him in front of the whole world. He didn’t know how you were doing as you refused to answer his texts and calls, which quickly resulted in him drinking his pain away. His friends and family had found him plenty of times passed out cold on the floor or in his bathtub with a bottle of Whisky or a dozen cans of beer in his grasp.

Their hearts were breaking for him.

The picture he just had seen was a few days old. Pedro was never a slave to his smartphone and caught onto the news way too late. If he hadn’t been bombarded with all the urgent texts from his siblings, he never would’ve opened the Instagram app and tumble upon the pictures of you and your ex.

How could someone be so cruel?

He thought that you loved him just as much as he loved you. Not ever did you shut him down when he talked about your future as a couple, hell, you even gave him the most beautiful smiles and answers whenever he jokingly called you Mrs. Pascal. The endless hours where the two of you gave your all into making your relationship work, all the hugs and kisses you shared…All the times you made sweet, passionate or rough love to each other… now felt like it was being flushed down the toilet.

Pedro felt his stomach churn in great stress and discomfort. He bent down and placed his hands on his knees for support as he really thought that he was about to throw up the few drinks and small dinner he had. Tonight, was actually the only night he was able to keep the alcoholic drinks to a minimum and consume some food without his stomach being in tight knots. He really thought that tonight was actually a decent night as he also had showered and changed into a fresh pair of sweats and his favorite t-shirt, his skin and hair moisturized and smelling great.

The other days, his sister and brother had to force him to down a few bites of the food they had brought or cooked for him while trying to keep him away from the alcohol, their remarks of his unpleasant body odor didn’t even make him blink as he didn’t care about how he looked or smelled.

He was finally getting back on his feet again but then this shitshow had to happen.

“I-I can’t take this anymore” Pedro hissed to himself, the anger and jealousy bubbling up in his stomach. All he could think about was you, he needed clear answers, needed to know your motives and whether the two of you were officially broken up or not.

So without a further thought, he regained his posture and snatched his car keys from the small coffee table before stomping his way out of his house.

 ~~~

 A loud sigh left your lips as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was one a.m. but you still couldn’t sleep, the guilt of your recent actions leaving you with temporary insomnia. “Fuck” you groaned out loud and sat up in your bed, your eyes clenching shut for a few seconds as you felt absolutely disgusted with yourself.

Just an hour ago, you had blocked your ex on your phone and social media. Yes, the ex you had gone out with a few days ago. It was just for lunch but it was awkward as hell and you a got fresh reminder of why you had broken up with him in the first place. But you just had been sick and tired of hurting and being in suspense of whether Pedro still wanted to be with you or not that you had decided to let your pettiness and insecurities get the best of you.

You knew that it would only take a few days for him to see the pictures and hopefully feel as miserable as you were.

“Shit!” you hissed out and jumped out of bed, being hit with a wave or reality; Why in the hell did you even go out of your way to put up this stupid act when you refused to even let Pedro know how you were doing?

That man loved you to the core but instead of owning up to your past mistakes and contribution to the toxic circle your relationship ended up turning in to, you thought that being childish would solve everything and put you out of your misery.

Boy, were you wrong.

Tears filled your eyes as you felt so ashamed and disgusted by yourself. You had turned yourself into a monster and now the whole world had seen you make a fool out of yourself. You didn’t have to grab your phone and go on Instagram to know that people already were calling you a slut for jumping from Pedro right back into the arms of your ex.

You wished that you could go back in time and prevent yourself from sending your ex a text message that resulted in the two of you going out for lunch. The lunch itself was just bad and awkward, the narcissistic bastard happily voiced how he knew that “you’d run back to him” once realizing that “you needed him”.

Your stomach was in tight knots and you could barely swallow down the food while having to listen to him brag about all the other people he’s dated, even adding that you were “nothing compared to them”. Your stupid pride however prevented you from standing up, giving him the smack of a lifetime (something he really deserved) and leaving the place with the tiny bits and pieces of what were left of it.

Instead, you made yourself look like a bigger clown and pretended to enjoy the insults and useless information your ears were polluted with. You left the restaurant with the biggest, fakest grin on your face while holding onto your ex’s shoulders, trying to get to your car as quickly as possible. The second you hopped in it, you had noticed the paparazzis and knew that your idiotic plan had succeeded.

Ever since arriving home, the guilt started to eat you alive and resulted in you lying down in your bed since the late afternoon. Your stupid ex had the nerve to text you to let you know that he was horny and wanted some sexy pics of you. That text alone got him permanently blocked from your phone, social media accounts and life.

“I’m such an idiot” you cried to yourself, the room filling up with your sobs as you plopped back down at the edge of your bed. You knew that Pedro was somewhere hurting because of you, the mere thought of him in pain causing your heart to painfully clench in your chest.

You tried to calm down, even your breath while wiping the thick tears off your face. You needed to redeem yourself, let Pedro know that you loved him and hoped that he’d be able to forgive your petty and childish behavior.

“[Y/N!]”.

The loud call of your name startled you as your heart skipped several beats before pounding loudly against your ribcage. “Pedro” you whispered to yourself before slowly standing up and staring at the door.

The loud stomping of his footsteps approached your bedroom and you couldn’t help but freeze on the spot. You didn’t know what to do, you hadn’t prepared for this, but a part of you was excited that you’d get to see the man you loved so much again.

When the door to your bedroom finally opened and the love of your life was standing a few feet away from you, fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks again. He looked as handsome as always, but the stress and pain radiating off him was also instantly caught your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess and he was panting loudly while staring right back at you. His eyes penetrating yours so intensely, you started to feel shy under his gaze.

Seconds went by while the tension thickened in the room. A talk was overdue and you didn’t have the courage so initiate it.

“Why, [Y/N]?” Pedro finally asked, his voice calm but the anger still shadowing in the back. He swallowed hard while you slowly parted your lips.

“I-I-“

“Why?!” your boyfriend repeated louder, making you jump in surprise but also making you come to your senses.

“Because I wanted to make you feel as miserable as I am” you finally confessed, seeing him shake his head in pure disappointment. “So” he began and approached you, “You thought that hurting and humiliating me in front of the whole world would seal the deal?”.

Your stomach churned in shame and guilt as you avoided his now angered and pained glare. Your toes were suddenly very interesting to look at as you were being confronted.

“I-I didn’t know what to do…I was afraid and anxious that you didn’t want me anymore…That this break would make you realize that you didn’t wanted to stay with me…” soft sniffles left your nose.

You swallowed the last pieces of your pride and lifted your head, looking straight into Pedro’s eyes. “And instead of actually answering my texts and calls, you just jumped to that conclusion huh?”.

His words were cold like ice, his jaw was tensed as he waited for your response. “I-I’m sorry” you whispered weakly, exhausted and so over the thick cloud of pain and stress that was settled deep in your chest. Words couldn’t describe how sorry you were for having changed into this anger driven person that only sought out to seek revenge, focusing on the negative feelings instead of the positive ones.

“You hurt me” Pedro sighed, his expression changing from angered to pained and tired. You saw the dark rings he had under his eyes, silently concluding that he wasn’t sleeping well.

“

Scream how much I love you but also how much you’ve hurt me, [Y/N]”. Your heart painfully clenched in your chest as you threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your head in the crook of his neck, his delicate scent filling up your nostrils and making you realize how much you actually missed your boyfriend.

It took him a few seconds to hug you back as his brain was processing your touch. He had gone two months without it and had craved it so much to the point where he almost forgot how pleasant and soothing it was to feel you so close to him. When his arms finally wrapped themselves around your waist, you let out another sniffle before clearing your throat.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am Pedro, we were in a bad place and I am also to blame for it. Instead of telling you how I felt, I kept everything inside and just used every opportunity to lash out on you…

Your words and actions hurt me but I had to communicate correctly with you and try to get you to stop the madness and find a solution. Not turn into a petty child”. You could feel the pain slowly become lighter with every word that left your mouth.Why did you make the two of you suffer so much?

Pedro sighed and clenched his eyes shut, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he held you closer. “And I am so sorry for doing the same thing, getting angry instead of taking a breather and gently explaining the chaos going in my mind. Please forgive me, mi amor”.

“I forgive you. I forgave you a little while ago. I need you to forgive me too, my stupid actions and everything else…I don’t like him, never really did”. The room then was silent as you let your words process in your minds. Your boyfriend forgave you in a heartbeat, but knew that it would take some time for him to forget what you had done.

The sniffles slowly subsided, the tension lighter.

“I love you” Pedro whispered, his head nuzzling in the crook of your neck. His soft lips and beard tickling the sensitive skin there. “I love you” you instantly whispered back, your heart body and soul at peace again. He was the love of your life, no one could make you feel so secure and protected and at home. Both of you had some work to do as individuals but you knew that your love had only grown stronger for each other and would be able to survive other challenges life would throw at you.

~~~

Tag list: @pascalisthepunkest​ @thickemadame​ @talesfromtheguild​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Thanks for reading!

[chappedandfadedvds]

Jan 17th, Sunday 13:31

They sat on the sofa with some tea and now in thick silent tension.

Jens was nervous and pretty sure Lucas was too. They had only talked a little about how their day went and about some irrelevent pictures that their friends had posted to instagram.

He wasn’t sure how to start the actual conversation that needed to happen.

The words were there, right on his tounge, but he kept swallowing them down. He was too frightened to have to face it and force them both to come to a conclusion. It could all go very well and they would be on the same page. But it also could mean for Lucas to see that it wasn’t worth it after all to stay around.

Jens was scared and he prayed that Lucas would begin to talk instead, but he seemed very content on his end of the sofa, with his legs drawn up to his chest as he watched the steam escape the red mug in his hands. Lucas wore a big hoodie, that Jens was pretty sure was his, but he didn’t minded if he would never get it back.

He found himself smiling just softly at the sight. He felt good to see Lucas still wearing his stuff. It meant that Jens hadn’t lost yet, right?

„What?“ Lucas asked, a grin spread across his expression, him without looking up into the space between them, which Jens decided felt too large.

„It’s just good to see you.“ Jens replied instead of talking about his desire to wrap his arms around the younger boy and pull him against his chest. It was diffucult to imagine that perhaps he would no longer be able to do that again in his life.

Lucas regarded him for a moment, the grin fell of his face and Jens already mourned it’s disappearance. The tension was back.

„I don’t know how to start.“ Jens admitted. He really was overwhelmed by it. Had pushed the meeting back into his mind since he had gotten up this morning. He had believed to be able to just walk in and tell Lucas everthing that weighed him down. But when he had arrived he fell silent.

Lucas sighed heavy, before he put the mug on the low table next to them. He tilted his head as his eyes wandered across the room and then over Jens. Jens felt examined by them, stilled in his position, while he anticipated for something to happen and free him.

„Well, how are you, for starters?“

An easy enough question with too much deep implied meaning beheind these innocent words.

When have you ever asked me how I am feeling? 

However when I ask you, all I get is silence

The younger boy’s words would haunt him for the rest of his live, Jens strongly believed, as his mind defaulted to bring him back to Thursday night.

„Tired,“ Jens sighed, „But I’m always tired. You know that. I guess, I’m just tired of everything.“

He was rambling, trying to find words to his emotions that were just inches out of his reach. It frustrated Jens to find Lucas watch him wordlessly. The younger boy was waiting. Lucas wouldn’t make this easy for him and Jens was assured that he deserved that.

„Not everything. I just want this to be over. Like, I want the courtdate for Lotte and I want her to be at a point where she can accept what is happening. And I want tuesday to have been over with already, so that I don’t have to think about what to say to my father. I want school to be over, the tests and exams written and done. Most of all I want for my mom to be done suffering through the days passing by. As I said, I’m tired.“

It all just bursted out of him, Jens had been unable to stop himself, once the first sentence had been said and from there he grew faster with each new word. He was breathless when he was done and exhausted when they hadn’t even started.

Lucas nodded sorrowful as he remained still on his spot. For a moment Jens thought that he still hadn’t said enough to convince the younger boy that he was trying to fix this.

It simply wasn’t as easy. He had kept it all to himself so long that it got comfortable inside his head. 

„I understand that. I’m sorry that it is so much. I want to help you, I really do. I just don’t know how.“ Lucas stated, finally talking as well. Jens relaxed by the softness of the voice, the gentle gaze that kept looking over.

„I don’t know either.“ He whispered. Both boys somehow closer and still that far apart. Jens really wished he knew what to do here. And even if he had talked to Lies, even she had trouble to find a solution other then talking it out.

Jens suddenly thought of something, somthing that had actually been his firt point on his list and he had forgotten. He was so dumb to not bring it up the second he had accepted the invitation in.

„How are you?“

Lucas’s eyes widened as the question hit him. It must have come unexpected, but the next thing Jens saw, was the faintest hint of a smile on the yonger boy’s face. 

After all this time, he had done something right.

„I haven’t slept that well either, but other than that rather good. I thought a lot about Thursday and what I had said. I hope I haven’t been too harsh? I usually try to stay.“ Lucas’s eyes darted over towards the window for a second of contemplation. „I try to stay considerate. I don’t like arguing a lot. I always feel terrible to raise my voice at others. More so, if it is towards people I care about. I beat myself up over that constantly the last couple of days.“

Jens hummed, unsure how to react. But he had promised himself to come here and not hang after his thoughts for too long.

„Well, it hurt. I’m not going to lie. But I treated you very shitty. So, I guess you deserved to scream at me.“

„I didn’t even get to, though. I would have only woken the whole street. I was so pissed off and furious with you.“

Their eyes met again and both smirked for some odd reason. But it made this feel easier to get through. Jens shifted on his seat, very much aware to keep to his side.

„I’m sorry.“ Jens said, the apology short of everything he should say instead, but he prayed that Lucas saw the earnesty behind it. They had time. Hours to get through this.

„Where should we start?“ Lucas asked, the apology for now ignored. 

„I could tell you about my father?“ 

Jens wasn’t sure why this had come up first. But he would be seeing him on Tuesday and so it probably wasn’t too surprising.

„Okay.“

„Okay.“ Jens repeated, „And then you can tell me about yours?“

Lucas nodded, leaning forward to grab his tea again. The younger boy watched him patiently over the rim of the mug, as Jens was preparing himself to put it all out there. He couldn’t have started with a more personal and harder topic, really. Not even Robbe knew all that much about it.

„His name is Hendrik. He has a phd in marine biology. He knows how to sail and took Lies and me a couple of times when we were super young. I don’t actually remember it, but we have pictures of it at home. He always had something to say. He is really good at talking and explaining and everything, I think.“

As he talked, he couldn’t help but miss the years he got to see his father at least for a couple of month each year. Jens had blocked it out somehow. Perhaps to not feel sad about it, as he felt his beating heart when he went on to explain certain memories he still had from birthdays. Or the one time Henrik had brought home a rock from antarctica, that Jens was pretty sure, was still somewhere stored in a drawer at home.

And Lucas sat across of him, sipping his tea and listened.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[a-duck-with-a-book]

REVIEW // Seven Blades in Black (The Grave of Empires #1) by Sam Sykes

★☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: while I was reading this book, I found out that Sam Sykes has been accused by numerous women of sexual harassment. You can find more information about it below: - a post listing several accusations of misconduct - twitter post responding to the situation - one of the accusations against Sam Sykes - his quickly-deleted apology Suffice to say, I have no intention of continuing this series or reading any more of his books.

I have a lot to say about this novel, so I’ll begin by making a quick bullet point list outlining what I liked and disliked:

Liked:

Cavric <3

Lisette deserved better

Some interesting concepts in the world building

Disliked:

Sal as a narrator

Sal as an antihero

Sal as a person in general

Writing style

Constant interruptions

Meandering narrative

The “narrator knows something but the writer avoids revealing it until the end for the drama” trope

This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy

Lesbians written by a man who harasses women

Unnecessarily long

// image: official cover art Jeremy Wilson //

Let’s begin with the full review by starting with the (few) positives, shall we?

First and foremost, I genuinely enjoyed Cavric and Lisette. It is unfortunate that they had to deal with Sal for the entirety of the novel, but we’ll get to her later. If this book had been a buddy adventure with these two, in which Cavric slowly shows Lisette that she is in a toxic relationships and deserves to move on and find someone better for herself, I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more. Secondly (and finally), Sykes introduced some genuinely interesting world building. The background of the Empire and the Scar was fascinating to read, but unfortunately did not save the rest of this mess.

Alright now let’s rant.

I have 35 notes and 52 highlights from this book, so this might get block quote heavy. (Go check out my notes if you want to see me slowly lose my sanity)

Sal is awful. I know she’s meant to be awful, but she’s not flawed in the way that I think Sykes was trying to write her. I believe she was intended to be a scruffy, lovable antihero who fought her way through a dangerous landscape with her sharp blade and even sharper tongue. A girl who had wrongs committed against her in the past, who did terrible things but is now on the road to an epic redemption arc. She shoots bad guys, she says f*ck and a*s a lot, and she is morally complex. That’s the character that Sykes was trying to make. The one he created, however, is a genuinely terrible person who I had no desire to see come out on top. I have a myriad of issues with her, but let’s outline a couple below: (1) She is incredibly toxic for Lisette. Am I getting a bit too heated about a fictional relationship? Sure. Was I happy to read a toxic lesbian romance written by a man who sexually harasses women? Nope. It kind of grossed me out, actually. Anyway, let me give you a run down of their relationship. Sal arrives. Sal and Lisette sleep together. Sal asks Lisette to give her weapons and or fix things for her. Sal sneaks away, telling herself no good will come of this relationship and they will only cause each other pain. Sal needs something. Sal comes back. Repeat over and over. She constantly says, throughout the book, that it would be better if they just left each other, but then again Sal is the one who goes back to Lisette over and over, causing her renewed heartbreak. I don’t know if Sykes thought that simply making Sal aware of how terrible this behavior was was enough, but it just made me incredibly frustrated. At one point Sal says:

”Intellect like hers is a curse. The more you understand of the world, the less of it you trust.”

Yes, Sal, that’s what’s giving her trust issues. Her intelligence. Nice. By the end of the book, it seems that they are on the mend-I’m getting end-game vibes from these two. But honestly, I spent the entire time thinking that Lisette deserved so much better than Sal. Like literally a chicken would have provided healthier companionship. I’ll end with this quote, in which Lisette outlines perfectly why Sal does not deserve her:

“What am I doing wrong that you’d choose this over me?”

(2) Sal is annoying. Really, really annoying. I kid you not, half of this book is made up of Sal’s snarky comments. She is badass. She has a gun. She is an outlaw. And she will never, EVER shut up about it. Imagine a quirky line after an otherwise dark or action-packed sequence. Funny, right? Might break the tension, make the narrator more endearing, etc. Now imagine one such line after every. Single. Paragraph. Picture a violent battle scene where the protagonist is fighting for their lives against a ruthless opponent. Now insert a snarky comment after every other paragraph and watch the entire flow of the scene fall apart with constant interruptions. That’s what this book is-which brings me to my next point.

The writing isn’t great. There are constant interruptions, meandering narratives, and the trope that haunts me in nearly every dark fantasy novel I read-This is a Big Tough World and Nobody Gets To Be Happy-is shoved repeatedly in your face. Let’s start with the interruptions, returning to my previous point (ie. Sal never shuts up), by looking at this sequence:

I  followed the shrieking wind. I had come here prepared for something bad. But I wasn’t prepared for just how bad it was. I rounded the corner of the hall, came out atop a battlement. The wind struck me with a screaming gale, forcing me to shield my face and cling to the stone for purchase. My eyes squinted against the harshness of the light, the kind of offensive pale you only see in your nightmares. And through them, I could see the bowed shapes of towers sagging, the flayed flesh of banners whipping in a wind that wouldn’t cease, the shadows of figures frozen in a death that had brought no peace. And I knew where I was. There was nothing that had ever made Fort Dogsjaw special. It had never been crucial for defense, never a hub for trade, it hadn’t even been named for anything special—the commander just liked the sound of it. It lived its whole life a regular, boring Imperial fort on the edge of the Husks. It only got important at the time of its death. Over three hundred mages and a few thousand regulars had assembled here in one day—some to receive assignments, some to man the garrison, some to head back to Cathama on leave. They had been laughing, cursing, drinking when the news came that the new Emperor of Cathama was a nul, born with no magic. And then there had been a moment of silence.

I’ve bolded for emphasis, but do you see what I’m talking about? The paragraph-line-paragraph-line format is so annoying to read, I had to put the book down at certain points because of how frustrated I got. It interrupted the forward movement of the story, making the novel drag on and on.

You know what else makes this feel like the nightmare version of the Never-ending Story? The page count. I don’t mind long books-The Priory of the Orange Tree is one of my favorite reads so far this year, and it’s longer than this one-but they have to have a reason for being so hefty. As I mentioned earlier, a considerable chunk of Seven Blades of Black is Sal making her awful, awful, AWFUL asides. I literally cannot express how much I despise those comments. Okay, let’s move on before I get hung up on THOSE STUPID COM-*cough*

This novel is marred by unnecessary lines and a meandering plot that drag out the story. One instance is the amount of times that Sal is a second away from killing someone and, for some reason (usually not a good one), fails in her goal. She places a gun at someone’s head and goes through a whole monologue in her head until the person miraculously escapes. This type of subversion of expectations is fine every once in a while, but if you are going to build up to a crucial moment and then take away the satisfaction of the defeat of some villain (or mini-boss, as many of the antagonists in this book feel like), then you need to have a good reason for doing it upwards of twenty times in ONE BOOK. Secondly, if you spend almost the entire novel setting up more and more villains and stressing how hard they are to kill and how dangerous their powers are (and presenting them separately and isolated), then when you have them all in one place at the end, at which point the protagonists starts going through them like a plate of french fries at a seagull convention, then you’re kind of taking away the satisfaction of the death. Somehow, this book manages to do both. We are constantly teased with almost-kills, then at the end Sal just blows through everyone in five seconds, easy-peasy.

I’m almost done, I swear-just two more gripes.

So much of the tension of this book rests on the fact that Sal, our narrator and our main viewpoint into the story, knows something that we don’t. I’ll be upfront with you-I hate this trope. If our POV character, the one whose mind we are in constantly, is entirely aware of something that happened before the beginning of the novel, and the author keeps from revealing that something for the entirety of the story solely to add drama, then I will not be a happy reader. Where is the logic. We are in this person’s mind. Just show us already and add tension ELSEWHERE.

And FINALLY (as painful as it was for you to read this, it was worse for me to write it), another issue I have with a lot of dark fantasy (see my review of Nevernight) is that the author really, really wants us to know that this is an incredibly dangerous and dark world by filling it to the brim with edge lord narrators, Big Guns, and, usually, women being harrased-because why not force all your female readers to constantly have to read about women getting assaulted? Apart from Sal’s 300,000 comments explaining to us that she is an asshole, that the Scar is Dangerous, and that she has Killed A Lot of People, we as readers must sit through hundreds of lines of dialogue and exposition that beat us over the head with the fact that this is DARK fantasy. This isn’t your nice little fairy adventure-no sir. Here we have Swear Words and Violence and Men writing Queer Women. To emphasize just how blatant Sykes is with the dark part of dark fantasy, let me tell you about an exchange Sal has with three old ladies who run a criminal empire. In the 2-3 pages that these women appear in, we are told, in some form or other, that they are grandmas who kill people, a grand total of, I kid you not, ELEVEN TIMES. Here are some excerpts from that whole situation:

”“Now, now.” Yoc, old and white haired and sweet as a grandmother—if that grandmother also had people killed on the regular—smiled at me. “I’m sure she has a good reason for being here.” She raised the hand that had signed the contracts that had killed a thousand men and women and took up her whiskey glass. “After all, I’m sure she knows how much we don’t like having our game interrupted.”” *I counted this as one since it’s in the same exchange but technically he mentions it TWICE

”…one didn’t waste the Three’s time if one didn’t want to end up with their teeth pried out.”

”How often do you meet the three old ladies who have people killed for money?”

”I said we should kill her on principle.”

”“But you know how many orphans I’ve made, don’t you, dear?””

”“He’s not so unlike us, is he? A murderer, yes. A monster to some. But, at his heart, a businessman.”

”Theirs were the hands that signed a thousand death contracts a year.”

”When they could be bothered to look up from their game, they decided who lived and died with a stroke of their pen.”

”At a word, they could have me stripped, tied, tortured, and cut up…”

”the Three don’t lie. Their assassins do. Their thieves do. But they don’t.”

”I had already wasted their time and I knew the Three were being generous just letting me fuck off instead of having me killed for the effort.”

TL;DR - Sal is annoying, Sykes is a bad writer, and Someone should have stopped me from reading this book

[ramblesanddragons]

When Someone Has Your Back

(I thought I posted this last night but apparently not.)

Here’s my entry for @forduary based on Week 2: Trust/Paranoia.

Summary: Life on the sea has done wonders for Stan and Ford Pines but a stop in New Orleans brings an unwanted, surprising, and dangerous guest.

Word Count: 4417

Warnings: There is fighting in this (this was good practice for me since I've never written a fight scene before) but no mentions of blood. I did not want this to be considered graphic. 

Ao3 Link for those who prefer!

“Ford for Pete’s sake I can handle myself. You want to do your nerd thing and I want to go hang out at a bar. It’s okay,” Stan said slightly exasperated.

Close to a year at sea had done wonders for the old Pines twins. Stan hadn’t felt so at peace for a long time. Sure, that fact that some of his rougher memories had been AWOL for most of the year helped but being with Ford at sea, doing what they always dreamed of doing? Well it was a dream. Even dreams have rough patches though.

Ever since Stan had been erased to defeat some sort of dream demon his brother had been perhaps a little too protective of him. It was an improvement from the sad sap that Ford had become after the erasing. That had really pissed Stan off as more memories of who his brother was came back. He wanted to sail with his brother not this sad, sullen nerd that was holding his tongue so much that Stan was sure it had bled a few times. Stan put his foot down before they sailed out.  

“Ford if you don’t stop being so down and start being yourself, I’m not going out with you. I’ll probably throw you overboard within a week.”

That had worked more or less. For the first time in years they talked their problems out. It was a good start and within a day Ford had been back to bantering with Stan like they had never been apart. Of course, that hadn’t stopped the other issue Stan was having. Ford had become incredibly protective of him. Sure, that had been a thing in a way when they were young. Stan handled the bullies and Ford covered for him with the one he couldn’t deal with, their dad. He would stick up for Stan and help him when homework got too hard. Once he had even stayed up all night to talk Stan through his whining when Carla McCorkle had broken up with him.

Now it was different. More...intense. Stan knew it was a strange mix of Ford’s caring for him, wanting to make up for his so-called sacrifice, and his paranoia. Boy howdy was Ford paranoid. Not that Stan blamed him. Whenever the subject of his time traveling the multiverse was brought up his brother would only speak of the good but there had been bad as well. Stan hadn’t told Ford but the memory of the quick change in the fearimaid had come back a few months ago. Stan remembered the scars that told a horrific story across his brother’s body.  

So, Ford had every right to be paranoid and Stan would let him have that. He could understand this at least. He let his brother be the odd boy guard he really didn’t need and went along with whatever protective measure his brother saw fit to take. He would deal with his brother being uptight in crowed places and seeing danger everywhere. He was there with his favorite tea when the nightmares would wake him in a fit of crying. Just like Ford was there for him when nightmares wrecked his own sleep.  

But Stan was also a grown 58-year-old man and had most of his memories back and he just wanted to go get a damn drink.  

“The tour is fascinating though. I thought it would be a good place to start for ghost hunting,” Ford reply looking like a slightly hurt puppy.

“We can go ghost hunting later. I promise but it’s hot as hell here and I don’t feel like going.”

“Then I’ll go get a drink with you.”

“Ford. I know you feel like you need to like watch over me or somethin’ but I promise you, I will be okay. Okay? Look if we don’t do some things apart, you’re gonna get sick of me.”

“Stan, I have told you over and over again I will never, ever, get sick of you.” Ford said standing to grip Stan on the shoulders.

“Yes, and I believe that now...mostly,” Stan ignored the frustrated look in his brother’s eyes, “But everyone needs space now and again. I’ve been to New Orleans before I know where I’m going. While we’re here I can show you all the good places to eat. Look how about I go get a drink, you go look at tombstones or whatever and we’ll meet back here to find a place to eat. We got these cell phones for a reason you know.”

The kids had insisted that they get phones if they were going travel like they were. McGucket had even decked them out so they would work wherever. Ford and Stan, with lots of help from the kids, had even figured out texting.  His twin sighed and let go of his shoulders.

“Very well. But keep that ringer of yours on okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

So, they parted ways. Ford seemed hesitant to keep walking down his street but eventually kept walking. Stan found the place he was looking for and took a seat. Jazz wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but nothing beat a good live band and a fruity drink that he wouldn’t be caught dead drinking any other time. The afternoon passed in piece and as the sun started to get lower in the sky Stan made his way back to the boat. It was a good afternoon and Stan had even scored a date for tomorrow, which meant some working around his brother but the boat had separate rooms for them for a reason. All and all a good time. He walked lazily back to where the boat was docked when the sound of a dinosaur roar made him jump. Mabel thought it was a good text tone for his brother and, while she wasn’t wrong, it still made him jump from time to time.  

I need to get her to tell me how to change it.  

Stanley. I will be back at the boat in 10 minutes time.

Ok Ford. ‘Bout to walk on.  

…

Please remember to turn off the alarm!

Stan rolled his eyes. Ford had installed some sort of proximity alarm and he had to turn it on and off as he came and went but it eased his brother’s mind so whatever.  

Stan had only managed to take a single step on the deck of the ship when a cold feeling went up his spine. Someone was watching him. Before he could react, there was the thundering footsteps behind him and the feeling of something blunt on the back of his head. He fell onto his knees and yelled out in pain. Looking through blurred vision he turned to face his attacker. Stan almost screamed again. A dark green creature was glowering down at him. It vaguely reminded him of a snake if a snake had grown arms and legs and had been on a steady steroid regiment. This had to be an alien of some sort, right? Despite what Ford thought Stan did pay attention to his nerdy rants. This didn’t match any of those cryptids he was looking for around here unless a snake man was an option, he wasn’t aware of. Well it was Louisiana.  

“Stanford Pines,” it hissed, “it had been too long.”

An alien that’s looking for my brother. Wonderful.  

He will be fine. Everything will be fine.  

What if he had a memory lapse?  

He hasn’t had one in 6 months. If he does, he keeps his facilities on him enough to ask for help. Your number is his emergency contact.  

What if he gets hurt?  

He’s right he’s an old man who can care for himself!  

This internal argument had been on repeat in Ford’s head for about two blocks now. He forced his feet forward anyway. He did it for Stan’s sake. He needed space and Ford needed space even if he would never voice that to his twin. Stan was right, not about Ford getting sick of him no. Ford was determined to use his last 30 years or so to make up for lost time. Traveling with his brother brought about a pure joy that he didn’t think was possible for him to feel again and he would never want it to end. But they were still very different people and being stuck on a small boat for months, even with separate rooms, had frayed a few nerves. Yes, this was healthy and needed.

But Ford’s damn brain would not shut up.  

By the time Ford reached the tour Stan had already been mentally kidnapped by swamp creatures 3 times. Maybe just texting his brother would help, or would that annoy Stan too much? Ford had been trying very hard to be considerate of Stan’s feeling since he had spent so much time frankly not doing just that. Part of his worry was that Stan would maybe get tired of him and want to stop, go back to Gravity Falls with the treasures they found and get Ford to leave him alone. The old scientist knew he was hard to deal with at times but Stan seemed to take most of it stride. What was worrying was his twin brother seemed to really understand what he was going through. Why would Stan know about the need to watch his back almost constantly? Why did he insist on having his own pistol under his bed and brass knuckles on him at all times? Both of them hadn’t been very forthcoming with bits and pieces of their past but at least Stan had an excuse up until now. He claimed he had most of his memories back so he was just choosing not to share at this point.

“Sir?” Ford jumped and his hand flew to his concealed weapon before he focused on the young man that looked wide eyed and concerned.  

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just the tour is about to start are you joining us?” In his thoughts Ford had paused to think and the tour group had started moving without him.

“Ah sorry just didn’t see you there. Yes, I’m coming.” Ford said awkwardly shoving his hands behind his back. The young man gave him a thumbs up and started the tour with an explanation of the above ground graves they were walking by. The guys’ voice reminded him of Fiddleford a bit but there was a difference in the drawl, it lacked that mountain twang. He found himself thinking that he should give his old friend a call tonight after dinner. Ford followed at the back, away from the crowd. It was an ideal position; he could watch the people in the front and look out for things behind him. The crowd was bothering him no matter how hard he tried to shake it.  

That was another reason he had wanted his brother along for this. Ford had gotten used to Stan’s presence in his life. Knowing he wasn’t alone all the time anymore had been a Godsend for his mental health if he was being honest. Paranoia is easier to deal with when you know someone has your back. Standford Pines could trust his twin brother and it made a world of difference.  

The tour was informative and it led to a good place to start for some ghost hunting. The watch Ford had modified had picked up on several ectoplasmic disturbances and he was pleased with the adventure he had planned out with Stan. Ford finally allowed himself to text his brother. He had managed to only text him two times before now in an attempt to show some restraint with his worries. Hopefully Stan would turn off the alarm as it made a very annoying buzzing noise come from his watch. The alarm annoyed Stan, especially when he had a guy or girl over and he had to fiddle with it before getting to whatever business they were doing for the night, but he never told Ford to get rid of it.  

There was a sigh as the alarm went off and Ford put it to snooze. A minute later it went off again and it sent a worried ringing up the old man’s arm. Ford texted Stan.

Please turn off the alarm.

Another minute passed. The alarm buzzed some more.

Stan?

A knot began to form in Ford’s stomach. He gave up texting and called.

“Hey uh this is Stan Pines. Leave some info unless you’re the IRS.” Straight to voicemail. Stan had promised to answer it and keep it on him. Something was wrong. Ford immediately began to run the remaining distance between himself and the boat. 5 minutes of straight running was making his lungs burn but he didn’t care, he had to find his brother. The docks were empty as he finally caught sight of the Stan of War.  

Not good no one around to see if he got dragged off dammit Stanley you had better be okay!  

The running stopped as his trained eye spotted something shine on the deck. It was Stan’s phone. He had made it to the deck of the ship at least.  

Focus. Look for clues and calm down. You’re no good like this. What’s your big brain good for if you can’t find and follow clues? Use your logic. Okay he made it to deck that’s for certain maybe...is that...my voice?  

Ford’s head snapped to the cabin. Muffled voices were coming from behind the door. With more stealth than an owl hunting in the moonlight Ford made his way to the door. Inside it was indeed his voice coming through the wall as well as another that sounded so familiar, his mind raced to place it. It had to be one of the bounty hunters that had been after him in the multiverse he knew that but which one? The unknown hunter and his brother were in the middle of a conversation.

Good Stan keep it talking I need to think of a plan!  

“And what about those extra digits?” The unknown voice questioned.

“Had them cut off. They were a very identifiable mark. You’re not the only person after me after all. Perhaps it would be best to not to deal with me so hastily. Don’t want to have any other bounty hunters jealous of you, do you?” Stan said imitating Ford’s voice.

“Your time here has made you forget. The multiverse fears me. No one would dare challenge me. Prepare yourself, your head is now mine.”

“Very well. If last wishes are something you care about just leave this dimension when you are done.” Stan again said in his impression of Ford.

The impression was flawless, just like it had been in the fearimaid. Ford finally put two and two together. A cold feeling enveloped his body as thoughts of a memory gun in his hand and his brother at his mercy swam to the top of his consciousness. This was worse.  

Oh, sweet Moses.  

He’s pretending to be me again.  

He’s about the take the fall for me again.  

Stan’s about to get his head chopped off by a blood thirsty inter-dimensional bounty hunter to protect me.  

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!  

In a rare moment all logic left the mind of Stanford Pines.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” Ford screamed bursting through the cabin door and tackling the killer into the other side of the cabin, causing it to drop the razor-sharp blade it was holding. Ford began to punch it in the face with all of his might.  

“Oh, hey Ford there you are.” Stan quipped in his normal voice. Ford could barely hear him over the roaring of blood in his ears.  

The hunter was thrown off by the sudden appearance of another Stanford Pines and Ford wasn’t going to waste the opening. He tugged at the hitman’s blaster, wresting it free from its holster. The hunter gave him a powerful kick to the chest that sent Ford halfway across the cabin.

“Hey Ford I know you’re a little busy but if you get something sharp my way, I can cut myself out!” Stan shouted.  

“Shut UP! I don’t know what sort of magic this is but I’ll kill you both for good measure!” The creature hissed and lunged for the gun. Ford’s chest was aching but he didn’t pay it any attention as he pulled his own gun.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Ford roared and fired. The shot hit square in the chest but the monster’s hide was too thick. With a cold jolt in his being Ford now fully recognized the bounty hunter. They had clashed more than a few times over the years and every time Ford barely managed to escape with his life. The last time had been 6 years ago. That encounter ended with Ford jumping into a rushing river as a last stitch effort of escape.  Its species was tough and blaster fire barely did a thing to them. The scientist in him often wondered if more traditional firearms would work better but the pistol was under Stan’s cot, there was no way to get to it. Ford kept firing desperately.

A part of Ford was sure he wasn’t going to survive this encounter with the hunter and it didn’t matter to him if he did in the long run, as long as he brought the monster down with him. He would not let him hurt his brother. If he died and the hunter was still alive Stanley would have to face it alone. So, Ford couldn’t die just yet and if he did, he’d just have to get back up again until Stanley was safe. The hunter picked up its own blaster and aimed for Ford’s head when Stan crashed into the creature chair and all. The blaster went sliding again across the cabin.

“Hey dumb-ass you kind of suck at this if you can’t tell two targets apart!” Stan heckled the thing from his now prone position. The creature hissed again and lunged at Stan’s neck but Ford was faster. He took the thing by its neck and slammed it into the floor and struggled to put his own gun to the creature's head.

“Let’s see if you can shrug off point blank ARGGGGG!” Sharp claws ripped into Ford’s shoulder and peeled him off. The hunter sprung to its feet and gave Ford a kick, and then another. Somewhere in the chaos Ford’s gun flew from his hands and landed under a desk. There was a crack of something in his chest and face but Ford didn’t care. On the third kick he grabbed the boot of the killer and tossed it off balance enough to give Ford time to stand.

Get it away from Stan! Get it away! Repeated in his head.

Taking out his knife Ford slashed at it wildly. Each step towards it brought claws closer to his face but he didn’t care. Seeing an opening Ford got in close and with all of his might he shoved the hunter through the door of the cabin earning him a clawing to the chest in the process.  

Ford had exactly one idea but he needed to reach the stern of the ship. He managed to make it half way there when the killer caught up to him, using its claws to try and bring Ford down again. He stumbled but stayed uptight turning to face his attacker. It had managed to pull another blade and swung, missing Ford by a hair. He took the chance to kick it back away from him but it had less of an impact that he hoped. Sharp black claws ripped into his sweater and it held the blade at Ford’s throat.

“30 years of chasing you and this is how it ends? How pathetic!” It rose its arm to swing when another pair of arms appeared underneath the creature’s elbows. Stan had gotten free and with all his might pulled it away from Ford. Stan threw it into the wall of the cabin and started to go at it with his knuckles covered in brass.

“30 years huh? Well you’re never fucking with my brother EVER AGAIN!” Stan thundered.

Ford saw his chance. Pushing back the sickness in his stomach at the thought of pointing another gun at Stan he reached the harpoon at the stern. “STAN MOVE!”  

His brother didn’t even need to look back to tell what he was doing, with a leap the way was clear and Ford fired, hitting his mark. There was a loud crack as the harpoon broke the cabin wall. Then silence.  

Ford collapsed onto the deck of the boat.

“S-Stanley,” he croaked, “are you okay?”

Stanley stood and ran over to him wincing at the sight of the damage. To Ford’s relief his brother only seemed to have a minor injury or two.

“AM I OKAY!? Ford, we need to get you to a hospital!” Stanley began to try and lift Ford who responded with a hiss.

“No, no we can’t leave that here like that. What if someone comes by.”  

“Ford it’s 5:30 on a Friday night no one’s gonna see this.”  

Ford began to try and stand on his own. “Really Stan I’ve had worse. I’ll sail us out to open water, deal with him, and then maybe rest.” Try and he might his ribs wouldn’t let him stand.  

“FORD SIT THE FUCK DOWN!!!” Stanley screamed. Ford finally obeyed and gave his brother an owlish look in surprise.

“You’re worried that much about people finding it? Fine I’ll sail us out a bit, deal with it then I’m getting your ass to a hospital.” Stan stood and within a moment or two had the boat pulling out of the dock. Ford was quiet for a moment, observing his brother and making sure no underlying injuries were causing problems. Five full minutes of silence passed before Stan spoke again.

“He was looking for you. I guess I don’t blame ya for being so paranoid,” he muttered.

“Yes. Stan...Stan I’m so sorry.” With the adrenaline wearing off all Ford could feel was the pain and the fear. Fear that his brother almost died again.

“I-I should have warned you this could happen...I know I haven’t been very forthcoming about my time away but I’ll tell you now and, and...” Tears were building in Ford’s eyes. Stan turned from the wheel for a moment to look at him.

“Ford you don’t have to tell me anything okay? And stop apologizing.”

“YOU ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF ME!” Ford’s voice cracked with the stress. Stan flipped on the auto pilot Ford had built and sat next to his now sobbing brother.  

“Ford...”

“Stan, I heard you. You were pretending to be me again. Why? You were going to let him kill you t-to protect me? Why?”

Stan opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare say better you than me!”

Stan coughed to perhaps give himself a moment to course correct and spoke. “Meh I was okay...”

“Okay? How...how are you so calm with this...how did you know t-that?” Ford was sure he had taken too hard of a hit there was no way Stan was okay with this.

“If ya let me finish Ford. I was saying I knew I was going to be okay because I know you’ve got my back.”

Stan, to Ford’s utter shock, was smiling.  

“You know the more I remember about my past the happier I am to be here. I mean that in all senses of that statement too. Like to be alive. People have tried to kill me before too and I was all alone then. Just like you were. And it’s awful.” Ford wanted to hug his brother and simultaneously find whoever had dared to go after him. That’s why he understood so well.  

“But I think I’ve finally managed to hang on to the idea that you’ve got my back and I’ve got yours. Hell, even if you woke up hating me again tomorrow, I’d still have your back.”

“ I never hated you and I never will,” Ford whispered quietly.  

“Meh I think it might have been touch and go there a minute.”

“...I will always be there for you Stan and not because of what you did either, I know you think that’s the only reason I’m here sometimes no matter how hard you hide it. I will always be there for you because you are my brother.”

“Thanks. You know I should probably tell you the people who might have me on their kill list...I just need to remember their names first.” Stan rubbed his sore head.

“Don’t freak out things just get a little jumbled after crazy stuff like that.” He pointed to the hunter.

“I’m not,” he was, “but just so you know if anyone so much as touches you wrong, I’m going to kill them.”

“Yeah I got that point. Guess this isn’t going to exactly ease those nerves of yours huh?”

“I’m sorry I’m so...”

“Ford if you apologize one more damn time, I’m gonna...I don’t know...toss one of your nerd books overboard with that guy.”

Ford closed his mouth.  

“I can handle you dealing with whatever your time is space sideburns land did to you in your own way. I just hope I can get you to relax and enjoy life a little more ya know?”

“I am. With you around watching my back I have been able to relax a bit. Thank you, Stanley, for understanding.”  

20 minutes was all Stan was willing to spend on the job. Stan patched Ford up as much as he could in the meantime. He also started to do the math on the repairs then decided to say fuck it to that for the night. Before disposing of whatever this guy was, Stan pocketed some of his fancier looking stuff to Ford’s amusement.

“What Fiddlenerd might like to look this over.” Was Stan’s only argument.

Once docked he called an ambulance (“This crazy huge dog came out of nowhere and attacked us!”) and they were on the way.

“Once you’re healed up Ford, I’m going to show you the time of your life and some of the best damn food in the world.”

Ford smiled, “Looking forward to it.”

[yaz-the-spaz]

here's the anon who said "for people who don't like her, you all focus way too much on Gigi. just ignore her." I don't like her. I am a Ziam, that is why I follow you. I try to ignore her but have to read about her constantly on Ziam blogs like yours. Why? If we ignore her she will go away. Don't you people understand that talking about her is exactly what she wants? Also think of this. If a tree in a forest falls over and nobody witnessed it, did it actually exist?

first off, i DO mostly ignore her. when i do talk about her, it’s minimally and pretty much mostly only when it’s something that’s been brought up by SOMEONE ELSE and/or something she’s said or done that affects zayn (whether directly or indirectly). like i’ve said multiple times before, i barely pay attention to anything she does myself, and what little i do know of what she does or says at any given time is mostly only b/c SOMEONE ELSE has told me about it, i rarely ever see it firsthand myself and rarely even bring it up unprompted. i am only responding to ppl’s comments and inquiries about her b/c ppl are curious and i’m not just gonna ignore them, but i’m also someone who likes to look at and consider things from all angles (including sometimes from perspectives involving her or her family). i’m sorry if you don’t like that but i’m not gonna change the way i blog b/c like it or not, she is an important part of the conversation in analyzing what is going with zayn and with ziam. if i’m going to analyze what’s going on with them, i can’t NOT talk about her or just pretend like she doesn’t exist or that what she’s saying and doing isn’t affecting zayn (and by extension, liam). and that’s especially true given the seriousness of the implications of this latest stunt. moreover, not talking about her is not just gonna make her go away or make the stunting stop, and i’m sorry but i don’t even really understand the rationale behind thinking/claiming anything like that. the fact is WE’RE (as in ziams) not the main ones giving her attention. we may talk about her occasionally yes, because again she is unfortunately an important part of the discussion surrounding ziam’s situations. but even if we ALL collectively completely stopped talking about her tomorrow, the fact is z*gi stans, g stans, het z stans, the tabloids, and the wider gp who believe in this shit are STILL gonna be talking about her and giving her attention. that’s not gonna stop just because a small group of ppl in some tiny subsection of internet and of the 1d fandom stopped talking about her. the stunt will go on as long as it still keeps making her money and getting her attention from all those other audiences (and also b/c of the fact that the contract is clearly still on-going), we as ziams are a negligible factor in that (esp the contractual aspect). so to use your example but modified in a way that would be more relevant to this specific situation: if a tree in a forest falls over and a bunch of people witnessed it while only a small select few did not (and that tree already had a contractual agreement with gravity to fall anyway), did it actually exist? the answer would ostensibly be yes.

second off, and more importantly, i feel like a broken record in the amount of times i’ve said this and the fact that i have to KEEP saying it but tumblr is a HIGHLY customizable site. so if you are seeing things you do not want to see, i’m sorry but that is just not my fault or my problem because you literally ALWAYS have the option to either just plain not read it (if you see it’s tagged as about her), or even to block/blacklist certain tags of mine entirely (b/c i tag everything that talks about her accordingly). just like you’re telling me to just ignore g, that is also an option that you have when it comes to me and my posts about her. so if you are still seeing it/reading it (at least on my blog cause i can’t speak to others’ tagging systems) i can only imagine that it’s because on some level you want to…otherwise why keep reading it? especially when you can clearly see it’s tagged as about her. if you don’t like the way i’m blogging about things or how often i’m blogging about things you are of course entitled to those feelings, but it is ALWAYS up to YOU whether you want to continue to see it or not. you don’t HAVE to ‘read about her constantly’ if you don’t want to (at least on my blog anyway) because you always have the option at any time to either block my tag for her or just ignore posts i’ve tagged under her name. you don’t even HAVE to come to my blog or even continue to follow me if you don’t wanna see this kind of content. that is precisely why tumblr is built the way it is, so that you don’t have to see anything you don’t want to or that makes you uncomfortable. i have always said that if the way i blog or the content of my blog is ever making you or anyone uncomfortable that is totally valid and understandable and i won’t feel bad or blame you at all if you or anyone decides that unfollowing and/or blacklisting or blocking me or my tags is something you feel you need to do to make your navigation and experience of this site and this fandom a more enjoyable one. but frankly i’m getting really tired of repeating this. i’m not sure if there’s this just THAT many people that are new to this site and just don’t know that those things are options, but when you come to my blog saying things like this and basically trying to dictate how i blog about things - esp things that are very clearly literally your choice to read or not - it really puts me in an awkward position cause i try very hard to be nice and respectful about these things but i also have my limits. i’m not here to post content expressly tailored to you or to anyone’s needs but my own, i’m here to post content for MYSELF to get my own thoughts out. the fact that others sometimes happen to see it and like it and/or reblog it is great!! but it is not the reason i started this blog, and while a great motivator, it is ultimately not even the reason i continue with this blog. this blog has always been and always will be primarily for ME first and foremost, as a place for me to share my thoughts (and occasionally others’ thoughts) and speak my mind about things that i can’t necessarily talk about elsewhere and a place for me to make observations and analyses in a space and a community where i feel comfortable and supported. you are welcome to tailor your own blog however you want, and to talk or not talk about whatever you choose there but when you’re on someone else’s blog - just like when you’re in someone else’s house or room - it’s important to remember that that’s THEIR space to do with what they choose and they have no obligation to you or to anyone else to change it to fit your needs or wants. it is up to you to do what you have to do to in order to feel comfortable (and/or protect your mental and emotional health), even if that means avoiding certain parts of their room/house, or avoiding the whole room/house altogether (i.e. their blog) and you are totally within your rights to do so.

anyway, sorry this got so long, i just have a lot of feelings about this and i hope none of this came off in too negative a way, as again i tried my utmost to be nice and respectful about it (despite my on-going frustration at having to repeat it) but i just really hope this get the point across to the people that keep sending asks like this

[camryndaytona]

Cassandra Clare

Cassandra Clare is one of the most popular and successful young adult authors of today, however, a huge percentage of her fans have no idea of her past where she was know more for her bullying than her writing. I started this as a post on my “You Should Know” instagram, but eventually it got way too big and I had to create a post for it as well.

Terms to Know

Big Name Fan

Or “BNF” is an old term mostly used during the early 2000s, before ff.net or AO3.

They were the biggest names in fandom, producing the most popular art or fanfics.

Getting on the wrong side of a BNF could lock you out from the entire fandom, as you would be blocked from any forum they (or they friends) moderated.

The Inner Circle

In the early 2000s the Harry Potter fandom was essentially ruled by the Inner Circle. 

Although most of the Inner Circle changed constantly due to fandom drama and scandals, one member stayed for almost it’s entire duration: Cassie Claire

ff.net

Fanfiction.net

One of the early and most popular sites for hosting fanfiction.

The Draco Trilogy

Draco Dormiens

Author’s Summary: When an accident in Potions class turns Harry into Draco and Draco into Harry, each is trapped playing the part of the other. Romance, mistaken identities, Really Cunning Plans, evil bake sales, a love triangle, and snogs galore.

Draco Sinister

Author’s Summary: When Hermione is kidnapped, Harry and Draco must team up to rescue her from a thousand-year-old evil that threatens the entire wizarding world. Cursed demon swords, love potions, time travel, dementors, flying dragons, Draco wears leather, and everybody dies at least once. Except when they don’t.

It is notable for being the source of the Draco in Leather Pants trope as well as the catalyst for the Cassandra Claire plagiarism wank.

Draco Veritas

Author’s Summary: The sequel to Draco Sinister, featuring winter at Hogwarts, snogging, Quidditch, mysterious things and Rhysenn Malfoy.

Why was the Trilogy so popular?

As most people in fandom probably know, there’s usually two subsets of shippers: gay and straight (please note that, back in the early 2000s, there was still a lot of homophobia, and the heterosexual ships were undeniably more popular for that reason).

Since The Draco Trilogy had both Draco/Hermione and a lot of Harry/Draco subtext, fans of both ships flocked to the fic.

The Plagiarism 

Although she’d done it all along, it wasn’t until the second fanfic, Draco Sinister, that fans began to catch on. What was “it?”

Cassie including a lot of quotations from other work. And I mean a LOT. She lifted entire conversations and paragraphs from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Black Adder, Red Dwarf, and Terry Pratchett. At first she didn’t even mention this “inspiration,” so everyone assumed that this wit was all hers.

Once she was called out, she put a standard disclaimer at the top of her work, which was worded to imply that she might have borrowed a few, small quotes here and there, not that she was taking paragraphs and scenes. When she was called out for her continued plagiarism she switched to claiming that she “forgot” what her sources were.

Finally a former fan called Avocado got tired of it and reported her to ff.net. Within a day her works were taken down.

Predictably the fandom melted down over this and accusations began to fly. Cassie used her status as a BNF to ban anyone mildly critical of her from any message board or mailing list. A friend of Cassie’s claimed to be a real life lawyer and harrassed young fans with seemingly legal threats. There are even threats of people calling the police in an early form of “swatting.” Cassie tried to get a “hater” kicked out of university for “hacking” her and a REAL lawyer had to be involved before Cassie admitting to making it all up.

After all that began to die down, as she was working on the third installment of the trilogy, Cassie began accusing her friend and fellow BNF, Aja, of plagiarizing her. When that failed to incite the anger she wanted against Aja, Cassie began to claim that Aja was posting leaked spoilers for the Draco Trilogy. This infighting between the two lead to the collapse of The Inner Circle.

Laptop Gate

Although the third part of the Trilogy wasn’t as popular as the first two, due to the plagiarism scandal, it still racked up a ton of views when she began posting it. So when there was a potential threat to the continuation of the saga, readers were horrified.

This potential threat was a break in and the loss of Cassie’s computer.

Almost immediately after the robbery was announced Cassie’s lawyer friend (who was also her roommate) popped up again. This time, they were raising money to replace the laptops of Cassie and her roommates that had been stolen in the break in. Any extra money from the fundraiser would go to some vaguely mentioned charity.

Divisive comments poured in.

Some people expressed frustration that more “meaningful” fundraisers (like someone who had lost everything in a fire) didn’t get anywhere near as much attention and support.

Fans were even less happy when no proof was provided of either the break in or the charitable donation of excess funds (which was reported to be over $10,000).

When called out they changed the subject and posted links to another fan that was also fundraising (although they never posted any charity before or after, even when asked to do so the lawyer friend claimed to be “too busy” to share a link).

Published Works

After enjoying her celebrity as the Queen of Fanfiction, it’s no surprise that Cassie decided to venture into actual, original published works.

Except they weren’t that original, because it’s Cassie and she really, really seems to like “borrowing” from herself and others.

Let’s start with some name changes

Cassie

Cassandra Claire (with an i) is her fanfiction name

Cassandra Clare (without an i) is her published name

You may be surprised by how well this name change suited her. For a long time, before exposes began to be posted, you could google her published name without finding out about her history in fandom. Additionally, some of her victims from her fanfic days read her published books without realizing who the author actually was (until they started to recognize the quotes and paragraphs that she’d lifted straight from her fanfiction)

Her Writing

“Mortal Instruments” is Cassie’s Ginny/Ron incest romance fanfiction.

“The Mortal Instruments” is Cassie’s published work, about two fake siblings who fall in love with each other.

Similarities to Harry Potter

Now I haven’t read Mortal Instruments or The Mortal Instruments so I’ll let someone who has read them both do some explaining:

When I opened the book, I knew that Clary was Ginny. Alec was Harry. Isabelle was Clare’s version of Blaise (who back then was not officially male or female, and could therefore be interpreted by fandom either way). Valentine was a strange mixture of Lucius and Voldemort. And Jace, of course, was undeniably Draco.

Jace is so Draco, in fact, that it’s impossible to see him as his own character. The way Clare characterizes Jace is the exact same way she characterized her Draco. They share lines (the ones she didn’t steal from Buffy, of course), they share nervous tics, they share appearances, and they even share memories. The second I read the scene in which Jace tells Clary the story about the boy and the falcon, I felt an unpleasant jolt of recognition: that story is one Draco tells in one of the Draco Trilogy installments. I couldn’t remember which one. I couldn’t even remember who Draco told it to (Harry? Ginny? Hermione?). But I knew it was if not word for word taken from her fanfiction, it was very, very close.

Yikes. That’s a lot of similarities.

The same person I quoted about went on to say that the fanfiction was still much better than her published work, and that she’d rather re-read the fanfic than the non-fanfic.

Sherrilyn Kenyon and Dark Hunters

Almost immediately after The Mortal Instruments (the non-fanfic one) became popular, Sherrilyn Kenyon slapped it with a lawsuit for copying her urban fantasy series, Dark Hunters.

Kenyon fans attacked Claire fans, Cassie’s history was brought to light, and Cassie got to pull out her favorite argument “you hate me because I’m Jewish.” Which is interesting, because I’ve been working on this for two weeks, and I only just learned that she’s Jewish when I read about her accusing others of anti-Semitism.

Now as Cassie apologists will tell you, Kenyon did ultimately lose that suit, but it’s really, really starting to get repetitive over here.

I’ll borrow a quote from Ryan Givens, “If you meet an asshole in the morning, you met an asshole. If you meet assholes all day, you’re the asshole.” Or in this case, maybe you’re the plagiarist.

Common Questions

Has Cassie apologized for this?

She did occasionally

Has Cassie changed?

My opinion is no. She’s not.

Let’s see, as the “Queen of YA Literature” she has:

used Copy Right strikes to prevent people from calling out problematic passages in her books

sent her fans after critics

posted a hilariously ironic blog about cyber bullying

attacked her OWN FANS because they didn’t like the ending of a book

currently complains about people posting her real name (which is Judith Rumelt, in case you wanted to know) despite her own history of publishing people’s actual phone numbers online

Calls critics anti-Semetic while having this quote in her book

Claims that she was threatened when someone called her friend an “ignorant duck” 

Loves Token Minorities

Wrote a questionable almost rape

My Thoughts

I don’t like Cassie.

I really don’t.

And look, I’m not saying that Cassie is a narcissist, but here’s a fun little saying called The Narcissist’s Prayer:

That didn’t happen. And if it did, it wasn’t that bad. And if it was, that’s not a big deal. And if it is, that’s not my fault. And if it was, I didn’t mean it. And if I did… You deserved it.

Does any of that sound familiar, because it should. It’s basically Cassie’s text book responce of “avoid admitting fault until there’s too much proof, say I didn’t do it on purpose, blame someone else, claim to be the victim, find another person to accuse of drama.”

Now I’m going to again quote from ProblematicYA because I absolutely love their writing. In this quote, they’re talking about how all of Cassie’s books, even those set in different times or cities, follow the same pattern. Non-Shadowhunter meets Shadowhunter (who is basically Draco).

So what’s really my problem? My problem is the fact that Cassandra Clare is a marginally talented writer who has one story and one cast of characters up her sleeve, and yet somehow she’s sold millions and millions of books based on this. My problem is the fact that Cassandra Clare’s Mortal Instruments series was partially copied from her fanfiction trilogy, which copied a plethora of other authors, not even including J.K. Rowling, who provided her with the characters, premise, and setting for her beloved trilogy. My problem is the fact that Cassandra Clare is in the authorly equivalent of a time loop, and has come full circle. My problem is the fact that Cassandra Clare is, in essence, writing fanfiction of her own work, and it is getting published and she is getting paid bank for it, when other far more original and talented authors are getting absolutely nothing for their hard work. I may despise Stephenie Meyer and the world she’s created, but at least Twilight and its accompanying works are her own original product; at least she deserves to reap the benefits of the crazy fandom she’s inspired.

Look. I don’t believe in dredging up ancient history just to hurt people. Shit we did when we were teens shouldn’t be held against us as adults. People grow and change a lot from what they were as teens.

But bitch, you actually have to GROW AND CHANGE. And Cassie hasn’t.

Also, try actually apologizing for what you’ve done instead of silencing critics.

Sources and More Information

As always, I love, love, love fanlore and I linked to many of their articles throughout this post.

A user on the HobbyDrama subreddit made a great write up called The Cassandra Cla(i)re Saga.

ProblematicYA wrote several amazing articles on the subject:

Why I Have A Problem With Cassandra Clare and Why You Should Too

anti-bullying ya queen cassandra clare is a massive bully. water also wet.

They also have an entire tag dedicated to Cassie

Alli6 wrote Things you should Know

Cassandra Clare, Rape Culture, and the Oft-Forgotten Metaphor by The Book Lantern.

SnarkTheater also has pages of things tagged as Cassie Claire, including chapter by chapter break downs of the books.

source http://camryndaytona.com/2020/06/cassandra-clare?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=cassandra-clare

[browneyedhimbo]

Not to You pt 2

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: After everything that happened with your now ex, Sherlock finally comes around to realizing his feelings, but things keep him from telling you

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: So a few people asked me about part two...So I guess this is it. Sorry I wasn't able to post sooner. School has been so frustrating and I’ve been having less time to write. Feel free to make requests. Let me know what you think

Part 1

The wonderful aroma of coffee is what woke you up. You cracked open your eyes but immediately shut them, sunlight pouring through the window. Odd, I thought I closed the curtain last night? You untangle yourself from your taco of blankets, wincing at the pain coming from your hand and headed to the kitchen to see what John was cooking this morning. (You and John always took turns cooking)

“John what’s that amazi-” You stood frozen in place, eyes widen in shock. There stood by the stove was none other than the curly-haired detective himself. He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice you. Taking the opportunity, you leaned against the door frame and took the time to admire him. His tall skinny yet muscular figure hovering over the stove, his usual suit on, and brows scrunched up in concentration. It was cute really. And oh how you wanted to go hug him from behind, kiss him, and just hold him. You were never able to fully get over Sherlock. That’s why when you met Jackson, you agreed to go out with him, knowing that Sherlock wouldn't want a relationship with his I’m-a-sociopath self. So, gradually, your feelings for the detective toned down a bit while you were focusing on Jackson. And things were fine, that is until things went to shit with Jackson, so now you’re back to wishing for Sherlock again.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to join me for breakfast?" Sherlock turned his head towards you, a smirk appearing on his face. 

"Good morning to you too," you said walking to sit at the table. Sherlock turned around from the stove, plate and pan in hand, and set it right in front of you. After he served you, he gave you a smile. Uh oh.

"Sherlock, is this another experiment?" You tentatively asked, cocking your head, eyes squinting the tiniest. He gave a dry chuckled, but you saw in the raw emotion those words caused him. It was all in his eyes. What you saw was a tinge of humor, but what more of what seemed like hurt and guilt. Damn, now you feel bad.

"No. I only save those for John now." He said as he sat across from you, his usual smirk in place, and plate already on the table. "And yes, good morning to you as well."

°°°°°

Breakfast surprisingly went smooth. You both ate and talked about different cases you’ve had in the past, you told him more about your childhood, and he told you the many ways he’s been able to bug and annoy Mycroft throughout their lives. You were in complete bliss. And unknowingly to you, so was Sherlock.

It was about half an hour after breakfast and the apartment had fallen into a comfortable silence. Both of you were on the sofa, you reading a book stretched out, legs on top of Sherlock's lap, while you assumed he was in his mind palace. But his mind was elsewhere, beyond, and for once, at peace. Because whenever he thinks of you, he feels a sense of security, sense of home, of belonging. You were so sucked into your book you didn't notice the pair of ocean blue gold eyes that were studying you. But not like he does other people, no. You were special, not just in a deducting way, but to him, you were special because you were the first person to make him feel. To make him feel loved and want to be loved. There was no doubt in his mind how much he loves you, and he's made up his mind to finally tell you.

“Um, Y/N? I uh, um, have something to -” Just as Sherlock was finally gathering the courage to tell you how he felt, both your phones started ringing. Donavon’s name flashed across your screen as Lestrade's did on Sherlock’s. You mouthed a sorry and picked up the phone.

“Hello? Yeah, uh okay. Alright, we'll be there soon. Bye” Putting your phone in your pocket, you turned, seeing Sherlock not as excited as usual about getting a case.

“Sorry about that. What was it you were saying?” you asked slipping your shoes on.

“It’s - it’s nothing really. Promise.” He gave a quick smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It can wait, right? He thought, but that only made him nervous. And Sherlock Holmes doesn't get nervous.

Once you were both ready, you headed down the stairs to hail a cab, Sherlock in tow.

“Scotland Yard please." There was some tension in the air, you felt that much. But you didn't exactly know why. Sherlock kept shifting in his seat, not a word spoken between the two of you. It was about 5 minutes later when you couldn't handle the silence anymore. 

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" You put your hand on top of his, getting him to look at you. A bold move on your part, but you saw a tinge of pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. No, it can't be that.

"I told you N/N, it's nothing." You sigh deflatedly, just wishing he’d tell you. His behavior was concerning you. Aside from constantly shifting in his seat, he barely made eye contact with you and didn’t even want to discuss the case. You take your hand off his and move to look out the window of the cab. Neither of you saying how much you wanted the warmth of the other. 

About another 10 minutes and you guys arrived, rushing up to Greg’s office. You opened the seeing piles and piles of what looked like paperwork. 

“What’s all this?” You asked pointing at his desk.

“Figured that'd be obvious to you." Greg teased, he was like an older brother to you. "It's paperwork. But that's not your concern now. Here," he grabbed a file and gave it to you, "that's the case I want you two to work on while I finish these up." You flipped through the file, then handed it to Sherlock.

"That all Inspector?" You gave him a cheeky smile, much to Sherlock's dismay.

"Yep. Hope that keeps you out of trouble until I'm done." You and Sherlock head for the door, but not before you replied

"Ha, trouble finds us."

°°°°°

Though it took you guys until night to figure it out, you did.

"So it was the brother then?" You asked Sherlock, standing up and looking at the wall with all the information pinned up.

"Yep." Popping the p, he grabbed his coat and threw yours to you.

"Where we headed?" 

"NSY, they'll deal with the rest of the case. Besides, as much fun as a chase may sound, I actually have plans."

You didn't know why, but you felt a pang in your chest as he said those words. Maybe it was because you wanted to be apart of those plans or maybe because he rather stick to his plans than go on a chase.

°°°°°

After giving all the details to Greg you guys got a cab, thinking you were headed home. You had blocked out everything, not wanting to hear Sherlock and him talk about his plans or whatever. So you glued yourself to your phone and would occasionally lookup. It wasn't until the third you looked up something was off, something was different. You weren't headed toward Baker Street but was actually headed to the river Thames. He led you out the cab and towards a certain spot on rocks. Thinking about it, it was the same spot in which you truly wowed the detective. You remember that day, that case. It baffled everyone including Sherlock himself, but you were able to figure out what no one could.

"It was here." It was the baritone voice that brought you back to the present. 

"Here what? Wait, whatever happened to your plans?" You looked at Sherlock puzzled. Oh, how he adored that look.

"These are my plans. Y/N, I uh. What I was going to tell you earlier, what I'm going to say now. Um." You saw the panic building in his eyes, the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"It's okay. Take a deep breath." You held his hand, much like earlier, except much to your surprise, Sherlock interlaced your fingers. 

"You always know what to do or what to say, to get me to calm down, get me to relax, or even get me to behave. Just mere thoughts of you can clear my head and get me to focus. You. It has always been you. It was here when I was first conflicted with these little emotions, sentiment. I always thought it was a weakness. But you taught me it was a strength, rather my greatest strength, because with you I want to be better. To be nicer." 

His speech was bringing tears to your eyes. Never in a million years, you thought this was ever going to happen. You always knew he was a sweetheart but this, this was on a whole other level of Sherlock.

"I'm scared Y/N. Not just of sentiment, but of messing everything up. I'm scared of losing you." He hung head low, shoulders slumped. You took your free hand and tilted his chip up. You saw the tears streaming down his sharp cheekbones, and all the other unshed tears making his eyes red.

"Oh Sherlock," you choked out, "you'll never lose me. I'm scared too." At that, he made eye contact with you, confusion in his tearful eyes. You let out a small chuckle, more tears picking your eyes.

"I'm scared I'll lose you to something more. A person whose mind is better than mine, someone smarter than me. I'm scared I'll get too boring for you." 

You both stood there, insecurities out, tears streaming down both your faces and just raw emotion radiating out of both of you. You looked at Sherlock. This is the real Sherlock, Sherlock who fell in love with, the one who stole your heart.

Slowly, he leaned in. Both fear and determination in his eyes. You met him halfway, and ever so slowly, ever so gently, your lips touched. A sweet kiss which stole both your breaths. His lips, oh how soft they were. You could hardly contain the emotions coiling within.

As soon as you broke apart for air his lips were back on yours in an instant. Tears kept falling down, mixing the sweetness of the kiss with the saltiness of the tears. Whose they were, neither of you could tell. You broke apart again, which felt too soon. He pulled you into a tight embrace. You buried your head into his chest as he put his head atop yours. A few minutes had passed before you had let out a laugh.

"What is it, love?" 

"I would've never thought you the romantic." You smiled up at him. It was the brightest smile he's seen and is glad he's going to be seeing that smile more often. 

"Oh, there's lots you have yet to see my dear." He gave you a smile and a wink. Oh boy! So the adventure begins. Actually...

The Game is On!

Tags: @softrdj @fanfictionsilove 

Permanent Tags: @thewriterandpoet @writing-for-hours-on-end

[writers-whim]

Descended from the Stars (III)

II                       III                               IV

Holding back tears I say goodbye to Gran and watch as she starts her hours drive back to the secluded house I've called home for the past six years. I'm left standing in front of the Academy's main entrance, hearing and seeing a few other students saying their own goodbyes as I pass them, entering the Academy. 

The campus is enormous. It could be considered its own town or city with its size. Tall white painted concrete walls separate the campus and the outside world, even though it's in the middle of nowhere. The tall iron gate I'd just come through seems to be the only way in or out.

Closing my eyes I take a deep breathe, gathering the courage to continue walking further into the Academy. Snapping them open I begin my journey through the secluded paradise.

Patches of grass are spread evenly throughout the large space, wooden benches and small trees adding life to the place along with the groups occupying them. A tall fountain sits in the centre of the large open area, roads branching in every direction from it.

Nocte Academy is more than I expected it to be. I'd expected a large modern building at the front where classes would be held, dorms in separate buildings out the back along with sports fields and other classroom blocks. High school has influenced me too much.

I follow the main road to the fountain before turning in every direction, taking in as much as possible. Most of the roads that branched off from the fountain lead to rows and rows of two-story houses in colors ranging from red to white to black and every other color on the spectrum. Cars are parked outside many of them leading to the conclusion that they're occupied by the second year and above students.

One or two of the roads lead to rows of shops selling clothes, school supplies, food, etc. I can faintly make out the green of a football field or park further down another. A large build labeled 'Performing Arts' takes up one side of another road, the other being occupies by an art gallery and more stores.

The main road continues straight ahead to the main campus building, the entrance to the main hall already crowded with first years. As I continue forwards the positioning of the footpath allowed me to get a better view of what I have already seen and observed more of the campus. 

More houses can be seen further out in what seems to be a more secluded area, only these were much larger two-story homes with only a few three-story homes at the furthest point of the road. A large forested area appears on the horizon next to the larger homes, blocking the view of anything beyond.

Pulling my luggage up the stairs leading to the entrance, I huff when I get to the top, blowing a stray piece of hair away from my eyes. Walking inside I look around, people chat with each other, standing diligent by their luggage as more people enter and try to find space in the mass of people in the hall.

A raised stage is at the far end of the hall, a large bulletin board beside it. A boy walks up to the microphone on the stage, clearing his throat before waiting for silence. Everyone quickly complied.

He gives a toothy grin as he begins speaking. "Welcome first years to Nocte Academy! I'm glad you made it on time even though there will always be the stragglers. I am Kim WeiJin and I am the student representative for the fourth years of the academy. I want to wish you all good luck with your studies here and for your future after Nocte."

His deep voice resonates through the large hall, his slight Chinese accent is amplified by the mic. "As you know Nocte is known as one of the most prestigious schools in the world..." He goes on to explain rules and some of the buildings of the academy.

"Now, if you were paying attention as you came through the main road you would have noticed the houses on the Southside of the property. Those are your dorms. At Nocte we don't want you to dread coming here because it is a school, we want you to feel at home and prepare you for life outside these four walls if you don't already have your own house." A buzz arose from the crowd as the purpose of the houses is revealed.

"There will be no bills and no mortgage but you will have to cook and clean the house for yourself. For the first term, there will scheduled checks and throughout the rest of the year these checks will be random meaning you have to constantly manage your home," the buzz grows louder as Weijin revealed more and more.

"Once you are given your dorm number that is it for the next four years, incoming first-years will take residence in the lots left by the graduated fourth years so the living area of each year group will rotate each year. North is fourth years, East Third, South Second and First West. This is not only the direction of the residential areas but also the name of the street you will need to take to get there." Heads tilt as some fail to understand the new information given by the Fourth year.

"The list of where you will be staying is posted on the board next to the stage, the number corresponds to the house you will live in. Move-in, settle down and explore before classes start on Monday. Your time table will be in your letterbox."

People begin pushing and shoving to get to the board and get out as soon as possible with the air becoming quickly humid and stuffy with so many people. I press myself against the wall as thoughts run rampant through my mind. What sort of school is this? Am I not supposed to be here? Was I not supposed to be given a letter?

WeiJin speaks again, yelling into the mic to be heard over the noise that has arisen from the crowd. "Can Avery Lee please meet me outside for a moment." This only amplifies my fears and made my heart beats faster as worry sets in. Those who heard the announcement begin chatting even louder while those who didn't remain oblivious. I glance at WeiJin again only to see him already gone from his place on the stage. I hurriedly grab my bags and speed walk outside. 

The light of WeiJin’s glasses almost blinds me as I advance down the stairs, the reflected light beam hitting me straight in the eye. He looks up as he hears the tapping of my luggage on the steps, looking me up and down as I made my way to him.

"Your an odd case Avery." He looks me straight in the eyes, not at all disturbed by their unnaturally bright green hue.

"Huh? What does that mean?" He laughs, loud and boisterous, attracting attention from those around us.

"Walk with me and I'll tell you as we head to your dorm." He turns on his heal practically skipping in the other direction before pausing and waving a hand at my still frozen form. I scramble to catch up with him as he goes back to his skipping.

"The Principal wanted me to explain something to you. You're a special case and I was surprised to hear that you had been admitted in for several reasons-"

"What reasons?" I interrupt his little rant, eager for answers.

"We'll get to that later. All the other students know what this school is really about and you are the odd one out in that category which is why I'm here to explain and answer any questions you may have."

We pause as we reach the end of the road. In front of us stands one of the large three-story houses I'd seen earlier, the biggest of them all. Large windows and vines loomed over us as we made our way through the front door. Making our way to what I assume is the living room we sit on the leather couches sitting in front of the unlit fireplace.

"Where are we?" WeiJin grins again as I express my cluelessness.

"This is your dorm, well house, mansion thing." I'm pretty sure my eyes bulge out of my head.

"My house? This?" He nods in response. "Wow."

"Yip, however as cool as this place is I still need to explain everything to you so get comfy."

I lean back into the black leather and grip a red fluffy pillow close to my chest as WeiJin completely distorts my view of reality.

"Wait, what?" I ask not understanding anything WeiJin's just told me. WeiJin sighs in either annoyance or frustration. It's more than likely a combination of both.

"We are all summoners." He repeats his words as if he talking to a toddler, staring unblinkingly into my eyes to get his point across.

"Summoners? Like demons and stuff?" I scratch my head in confusion.

"Kind of. Summoner is a general term used to describe those who have the ability to summon entities from a realm outside our own. All those who can be summoned are summoned through a card connected to their spiritual being allowing their master to summon them at will once they have bonded." WeiJin explains.

So many questions I want to be answered float to the forefront of my mind however I'll let him finish before overwhelming him with them all. I nod, biting my lip slightly as a signal for him to continue.

"Everyone here at the academy was brought up with the knowledge of all this so you are a special case that is the first of its kind here, this means because this is all new to you I will need to explain everything which will take a while." Taking his cue I resume I leaned back position, hugging a cushion from beside me close to my chest.

"Warriors, as a general term, are beings from the stars. Each Warrior can harness an ability from one of the five specialties of Fire, Water, Earth, Air and Spirit. Summoners, in turn, use their powers by ordering their bonded Warriors to do as they wish. Warriors are connected to cards by their spiritual essence meaning each card will summon only the warrior it is connected to. You get cards through trials while others are passed through the generations and others are claimed by the victor of a death battle." He pauses waiting for me to absorb the new information.

"Warriors have four ranks Zodiac, Disciples, Descendants, and Desaliars. There are only twelve Zodiac. The Zodiac is the most powerful Warriors and has powers that fall outside or on the extremely more powerful end of one or more of the five specialties. They are one of a kind and are the only one of their constellation. They are believed to be only a myth as they have not been seen by anyone in millennia. 

Disciples are those from the Desaliar rank, which I will cover in a moment, who have chosen to follow the Zodiac as gods, worshiping them and in turn, gain similar but extremely weaker abilities and forfeit their own." He pauses again waiting until I nod to continue.

"Descendants are those who are apart of a constellation and other than slightly stronger abilities nothing is different about them. A single constellation is shared by several Desaliars.  Desaliars are the weakest of the Warriors and are the most common among Summoners. They are not connected to a constellation and are weaker than the other three rankings. The Summoners are ranked instars one to five by their ability to control their cards and battle with them as well as their own  capabilities." 

He pauses again only this time I relent to asking a question as my restraint weakens. "What happens to the Warriors in their cards?" 

He cocks his head at the odd question but answers anyway. "We don't know really. Because they are connected to stars and constellations, we suspect that their spirit returns to their connected star and waits to be called again. Maybe they live in the cards, maybe they are trapped in nothingness, who knows. " He shrugs in nonchalance as if he'd never even thought about it.

"What does this have to do with me?" I tighten my hold on the cushion as WeiJin smiles.

"Avery, this school is for Summoners to learn how to be Summoners and control their Warriors, giving them the chance to gain new ones at the same time through trials set up by the Council."

"That can't be true. I'm not a Summoner. I didn't know anything about this before you started talking." I begin to panic, unwilling to accept this new aspect of the world.

"Avery, I know you don't believe me but let me prove to you then you can bombard me with as many questions as you want, I know you have been holding them back."

I watch as he reaches into a brown pouch at his side, pulling out a silvery grey card with lilac spirals dancing across its surface. Holding it flat in his hand his brow creases lightly as a small flash of light appears next to him, fading to reveal a boy with black hair with white tips, dressed in grey and black with lilac accessories such as his belt and shoelaces.

"You called me Master?" Despite is slight smile his voice is monotone and blank of any emotions, as are his eyes, I note as I look closer.

"See Avery, this is all real." WeiJin leans forward as he places the card back in his pouch, the Warrior standing beside him not moving an inch.

"The fuck is this?! He wasn't there before! What was with that light? What the fuck is going on?" I leap, rapid-fire, into my questions taking full advantage of his invitation.

"This is Shin he is apart of the Spirit specialty and possesses the power of Hypnosis. That light occurs whenever a Warrior is summoned and it takes a lot of training to control its intensity." I stay frozen, almost matching the state of the warrior before me.

"You okay Avery?" No, I'm not okay. My whole world, the last nineteen years of my life flipped on its head. Destroyed. Gone. Unbelievable. 

"This...is all real?" It sounds more like a question as the statement escapes from my parted lips.

"Yes." Damn his calm and collected self. I sigh heavily, recovering from my almost mental breakdown. "This is going to take some getting used to but eventually you'll get used to it." Another encouraging smile is sent my way by the Chinese charmer himself.

"Do you have any other questions?" What don't I want to question is a more accurate question. "How do Summoners and their Warriors usually interact, I mean I need to know if I want to fit in."

"Summoners order their Warriors and Warriors follow. If they disobey or ignore an order they are punished in whatever way their Master sees fit even if it means destruction, which is only achieved through fire by the way. Summoners can do as they wish to the Warriors they have bonded with but if they discipline or do anything to other Warriors, outside of battle, that their Master doesn't like, the Summoner will be punished before the Council. Some get their cards striped, others are whipped." He says it so casually I get goose bumps even imagining having to discipline or punish a Warrior outside of battle.

"Other than that, Warriors generally follow their Summoners command, in order for them to get stronger, their Summoner has to get better at wielding them and giving orders, however, most don't try to help their Summoners improve, settling with just taking orders. Although there are some who do try to help, they are usually shot down before any actual improvements." WeiJin comments, smirking as he looks towards Shin.

"Relax, for now, look around your new place and try to read up as much as you can in the library I was told was upstairs on our world. Take it easy, you might even find a card hidden in this place, who knows." The light shines again as WeiJin sends his Warrior back to his card, standing as he does so. He pats my shoulder as he walks past me towards the door.

"Hang on, you haven't told me how to claim or summon a Warrior." WeiJin spins a look of horror on his face as he misses out likely the most important part of being a Summoner. 

"Right. To bond with a card, you must place a drop of your blood on the face of the card and a Warrior will appear. Once bonded you name them and they are yours to do as you wish. From then on to summon them you can either call to them mentally or verbally by saying something like 'Jeff of Cygnus I summon you' or something like that or you can kiss their card."

"This is sounding more and more like Pokémon." I deadpan taking notice of the fact that he said I would name my Warriors, depersonalizing them even further. I'm not liking the norm of this society so far.

WeiJin chuckles as he turns and begins making his way out again calling back before he left the house completely. "Basically. Good luck Avery." Then I was alone.

Staying curled up on the couch I contemplate moving and only do so once I realize that my luggage is still sitting at the foot of the staircase by the entrance.

Climbing the stairs I drag my suitcase behind me, my smaller duffle bag riding on top of it as the larger is slung over my shoulder. The staircase itself is grand with dark railing and red steps. Cream carpet covers each step and the hallway it leads into on the second floor.

Stopping to explore I leave my luggage at the base of the second set of stairs I open the first door of the hallway revealing a linen closet. I seal the door and push on to the next door. This one opens into a room filled to the brim with books. The library.

The next few doors reveal what seems to be small guest rooms, each with  closet and bathroom, more closets and the main floor bathroom.

Picking up my luggage again I proceed up to the third and final floor of the house. This time instead of leading to another hallway, it spans into an open circular room with one hallway splitting off from it.

The room itself is furnished by three leather couches, a TV, a piano in a corner, small bookcases and photo frames filling the blank spaces on the walls.

Turning I begin down the hallway, opening every door I reach only to quickly realize they're all bedrooms, larger than those downstairs and decorated as if they were on a home and garden magazine cover.

Each has its theme of one or more colors like green, blue, red and brown. Each, like those downstairs, has a closet and bathroom. None of them take my eye enough to call my own.

Moving my way back into the main room I spot a pair of double doors made of the same dark oak as the rest of the house, sitting directly opposite the hallway explaining why I hadn't seen them when I first came up.

Opening them all air is pushed from my lungs as I gape in amazement. The room has the same cream carpet as the rest of the house but the walls are a vibrant purple, matching the rug and some of the smaller pillows on the bed.

Light blue curtains, bedspread, and pillows complement the ceiling that is painted to look like the sky. Small holes indicate to me that once night fell and the room turned dark, the ceiling would go from day to night, the small holes glowing like stars.

White sliding doors reveal a large closet that would fit all my clothing and still have room left over. Another door next to it spans into my own bathroom, an oak vanity, three white walls with a dark tile feature wall, a large bath, shower and toilet in pure white. This alone was heaven.

A set of white doors heads out on to a balcony that overlooks the back yard, forest, pool and enabled me to see a large chunk of the campus. I can't help but wonder why I, the clueless newbie have been given the largest and most private house on campus.

I leave my bags in my room and make my way back down to the bottom floor, going back to opening every door I notice. There are the living room and the ash grey and white kitchen across from it. A large dining room that could seat at least twelve opened on from the kitchen.

Another bathroom similar to my own is tucked next to a small laundry that was hidden away near the back door which leads out to the open backyard where a set of outdoor furniture sits on a paved area facing out towards the forest, while the pool rests opposite from it.

Returning to my room I arrange all my belongings where they should be, then take down some of the empty photo frames to put pictures in them at some point. A few of my trinkets are placed on the mantel of the fireplace in the living room while others end up perched in the bookcases or on shelves within one of the three floors.

I don't touch any bedroom except my own, they're fine as they are.

Three hours later and everything is where it should be, neatly organized and clean. My mind is still reeling from everything WeiJin told and showed me, still not able to process it all. Hoping sleep would help I flop onto my bed, curl up and close my eyes, blocking out the world around me as I fade from consciousness.