#we practically have opposite availability so we never see each other

[euthymiya]

Guys how do you politely decline pitching in to get a coworker a pregnancy gift

[jgroffdaily]

‘A Nice Indian Boy’ will be released theatrically early next year, and then will be available on streaming (no further details available yet)

Jonathan Groff singing Bollywood tunes is the centerpiece of “A Nice Indian Boy,” a groundbreaking gay rom-com that’s heating up the BFI London Film Festival.

Director Roshan Sethi and stars Groff (“Mindhunter,” “Glee,” “Doctor Who”) and Karan Soni (the “Deadpool” franchise) are challenging Hollywood norms with their cross-cultural love story, which debuted at SXSW. It aims to bring a fresh perspective to both LGBTQ+ and South Asian representation on screen.

The genesis of the project traces back to 2019, when Levantine Films optioned Madhuri Shekar’s play of the same name and Eric Randall adapted it as a screenplay. Sethi came aboard in 2021 after the producers saw his previous film “7 Days.” He then approached his real-life partner Soni to co-star. Groff signed on after watching “7 Days.”

“I do think what’s interesting about the current era of ‘diversity films’ is that they tend to be very homogeneous. They’re all Asian or they’re all Indian, or they’re all black or they’re all white, in the exact opposite case, and the reality of our world is that we’re all mixed up with each other in tangled, messy ways. And this movie very much reflects that, because you have a meeting of cultures,” Sethi says.

For Groff, who plays a white character adopted by Indian parents, the role required immersing himself in a culture he was largely unfamiliar with. “I had never seen a Bollywood movie. I didn’t know anything about this culture in general,” Groff says. His preparation included watching the Bollywood classic “Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge” (DDLJ) to nail a pivotal musical moment in the film.

This scene, featuring Groff’s character singing the evergreen “Tujhe Dekha To Ye Jana Sanam” from “DDLJ,” is a highlight of the film. “I didn’t know that he was going to do, like, a falsetto, la, la, la, la, la – that trilling thing,” Sethi says. “Everyone was turned on,” Soni adds.

Despite the cultural specificity, Groff found the family dynamics surprisingly relatable. “I, immediately from the first take of the first scene, couldn’t believe how familiar it all felt,” he says. “Even though there was a stark difference in culture, it was so heartwarming to see that families are families, no matter what culture you’re in.”

The production faced significant challenges, primarily due to a compressed timeline. Sethi reveals they had just four weeks of pre-production and a 21-day shoot with six-day weeks. “We were just like this tiny indie movie that was crammed in between these other much larger, broader circumstances,” he says, referring to Soni’s commitment to “Deadpool” and the then-looming SAG-AFTRA strike.

Financing the film also proved difficult. “We barely got this movie made. We barely found the money. We struggled for years,” Sethi says. He notes that Groff’s involvement was crucial in securing funding. “None of the Indian actors are deemed meaningful enough to obtain financing,” Sethi explains, calling Hollywood “one of the most racist industries in America.”

For Sethi, who still practices medicine, the film represents a personal milestone. “I was closeted six years ago, and now I got to make this movie, which is highly personal,” he says. “I could never have imagined when I was like, walking around the hospital as a straight doctor, watching [HBO’s] ‘Looking,’ that I was going to like be out, much less like be making this movie.”

“A Nice Indian Boy” is set for a theatrical release in the first quarter of next year, with streaming plans to follow. The filmmakers are optimistic about its commercial prospects, citing positive responses from diverse test audiences. “When we were testing the movie among audiences, the highest scoring audience was always white women,” Sethi notes.

The team hopes the film will resonate beyond niche audiences. “Part of the other issue with the so-called diverse film and representation movements is that they’ve made those movies feel like they are for niche audiences,” Sethi says. “The truth is diversity should be an opening up of storytelling where you’re finding more and more interesting and more new stories to tell people, but just vitalize art. They don’t splinter it, they don’t make it more niche. They vitalize it.”

As they prepare for the film’s wider release, the cast is moving on to new projects. Soni is set to star in the thriller “Fade to Black,” while Sethi is working on a new romantic comedy script where he’s “going back to straight people.” Groff, fresh off his Tony win for “Merrily We Roll Along” on Broadway, is returning to the Great White Way with “Just In Time,” a new musical about the life and times of singer Bobby Darin.

[theapangea]

Night Out

Chapter: Boys Night Out Pt.2

Pairing/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader, Dustin, Mike, Lucas

Summary: You and Steve have been dancing around each other for sometime now, neither of you wanting to make the first move. All your friends decide it is finally time for you both to confess your feelings.

A/N: So happy you all are enjoying this series. I think it's just so cute! Thanks for supporting me. Liking, commenting and/or rebloging goes a super long way!! LOVE YOU!

Forgot to link the other parts lol

Part 1 | Part 2

The reddish-brown sedan races down the quiet street as the overlapping voices of the younger boys fill the car. The bickering pounds in Steve’s ears as he grips the steering wheel. This was his chance to finally tell you how he feels and you are nowhere to be found. 

Why did Hawkins feel so big at this moment? Why does everything besides telling you the truth feel so small?

These feelings - the feelings that he has been pushing down for so long - were fueling him. Were the motivation to press on the gas pedal, to drive all around Hawkins just to find you. The adrenaline pumping through his body, the overwhelming feeling on what is going to happen next.  He shakes his head, pushing any sort of negative thoughts away. He didn’t want to think about the what ifs. About what could, should, or would happen. He didn’t care. All he cared about was telling you how he felt, he had to tell you.  

Steve’s thumbs tap the steering wheel, following the beat of the faint music as he tries to drown out the sound of the three teenage boys. “Ok, where do we start?” He practically had to yell over them. The mindless driving around while the boys shouting in his ears for the past 10 minutes was really beginning to get on his nerves. 

“Arcade.” Mike firmly states from the backseat, very confident in his answer.

“Why would she be at the arcade?” Steve snaps back. He didn’t mean for it to sound as venomous as it came out. 

“You never know.” Dustin contributes to Mike’s suggestion. Steve sends a flat unamused look at him.

Huffing, a hand shooting through his brown locks, “Guys, she isn’t a preteen she doesn’t spend her time at the arcade.” 

And it was like the car went silent, like they all couldn’t come up with a better idea than the arcade. Steve rolls his eyes knowing that he shouldn’t have listened to any of them or better yet taken them on this wild goose chase. But then, the idea presents itself to Steve as he glances at the clock. “Oh shit.” The boy’s listen intensely, “I think she’s working tonight.”

The car stops abruptly, propelling the group forward and then slamming back into their seats. The groans were short lived as Steve violently turns the car around in the opposite direction towards the Family Video Store.

The row of buildings come into view as the car rolls over the hill. The blicking, half-working neon lights brightly cover the surrounding sky. And to Steve, it looks like heaven. He could barely hear the sound of his own heart pounding over how fast the car was reviving to get to the store. 15 miles above the speed limit was definitely needed in a moment like this.

Wiping into the available parking space outside the front door, all four car doors opening simultaneously as the boys run into the building. 

“Robin!”

She looks over curiously at her name being called, her head previously in a book, her eyes growing wide as she sees the four boys rapidly making their approach at the counter.

“Need help finding a movie for babysitting?” Robin teases towards the group.

“He’s not babysitting us.” Mike rebuttals as he crosses his arms.

“At least not tonight.” Steve adds. Definitely not what he was intending to say but he shook it off his mind, hand in the air to clear the conversation.

“We're looking for Y/N.” Dustin finally says their real intentions for the appearance. 

“She left about an hour ago.” Robin answers. “Why?” The pen she was playing with between her fingers is momentarily lost as she waits for Steve to answer.

“Do you know where she was going?” Steve huffs, clearly annoyed that you weren’t there. 

“Maybe.” She leans onto the counter, staring at the boys.

“Well can you tell us?” Lucas asks nicely.

“I first want to know why.” Her eyes landing on Steve, basically telling him silently that she can wait here all day for his answer.

It was as if no one could speak. That the room was closing in on the three young teenagers as they quickly share glances at each other.

“Really now you all shut up?” Steve rolls his eyes, he pauses and then whispers, “I like Y/N.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t think any of us heard that.” Robin waves the pen around. 

“I like Y/N.” It was as if the words rolled off of his mouth like butter, like he has been saying them his whole life. He continues, “Happy? I want to tell her that I like her and I want to ask her out.” Leaning to be eye level with Robin on the counter, “Now where is she?” His voice was stern and definitely demanding. 

Licking her lips before poking fun at Steve’s confession, “Awh does Stevie have a little crush?”

Dustin, Mike and Lucas share a laugh as Steve drops his head in defeat. He knew that Robin would give him a hard time. So he just patiently waited for them to tease him until he was finally able to get his answer.

“Are you done?” Steve says while standing back up straight again.

“Yeah…” Her voice trails off, “She went to the Wheeler’s house. Said she was going to some party.”

“Who’s party?” Dustin butts in.

“Jason Carver’s.” Robin’s answer shooting a wide hole into Steve. 

The sheer mention of his name tightened the knot that is in Steve’s stomach the moment he left the Wheeler’s house tonight. He knew that this was too good to be true, knew that driving all over town and trying to find you was a mistake.

“But…” Robin’s voice pulling Steve from his thoughts.

Maybe it wasn't a mistake.

“But what?” Dustin speaks as Steve has suddenly forgotten how to put letters into words and words into sentences.

“Nancy may have told Y/N that you all were talking about her and that maybe Steve likes her.” Steve's hanging onto every word that just fell out of Robin’s mouth.

“She was spying on us?” Mike quickly interjects. 

“And?” Steve hushes Mike with a finger.

Robin pauses for a beat, all the boys practically leaning in close, waiting for her to continue, “And I think you have a shot doofus.”

The three younger boys cheer loudly at the news. Steve couldn’t believe it, happy that coming here wasn't a mistake. The little voice in his head was wrong. He had a chance with you and there was no damn way that he wasn’t going to tell you tonight.

~~

Hope you enjoyed!!! Let me know what you think!!

Kisses for supporting me <3

Tags: @shireentapestry @lifecanbehardbutyouarestrong @ash5monster01

[flittermousefics]

The Writing on the Wall Pt. 1

“Does anyone here know the importance of giving honest feedback to your fellow writers?”

 (Y/N) looked at the whiteboard in front of them transfixed. 

“No one? Ok, so to give good feedback…” 

The energy required to answer the professor, Ms. Miller was practically nonexistent. Last night was spent working at the gas station and the hours prior to class working at Café Al-Fajr. They began wringing their hands together to stay awake and it wasn’t having much of an effect. It wasn’t that Literary Criticism and Theory was boring, in fact this class is a current favorite, (Y/N) had simply been burning the candle at both ends. 

“I need a night off soon.” 

They shifted their gaze to watch the students walking past the windows of the building. A deep scowl and narrow eyes marked their expression darkly. Two girls walked by giggling passing three guys jumping around showing off for them. It pained them to admit it but (Y/N) was practically a misanthrope. To them absolutely nothing was worse than seeing people being so carefree at Gotham University. (Y/N) had to work incredibly hard just to get to Gotham City let alone to be able to enroll here. They couldn’t understand how hard they worked to pay off the ridiculously high payment plan per semester. 

“Alright that’s it for today, remember to upload the feedback for each of your classmates before next week’s Thursday class.”

They sound of shuffling papers, bags, and footsteps muffled Ms. Miller's announcements as the class began to quickly evaporate out of the room. Just as (Y/N) was about to head to the door Ms. Miller softly spoke up.

“Excuse me (Y/N) could I spare a few moments of your time?”

They nodded at her direction and walked slowly to close the gap between the two of them. It made them nervous to be asked something so entirely random and out of the blue like this. What sort of shit could this be? Opposite of (Y/N) Ms. Miller smiled sweetly as she was holding on to some sort of paper. It was more nerve wracking to imagine someone delivering bad news with a smile. Once (Y/N) stood in front of her and took a deep breath Ms. Miller tried clearing the air.

“Oh no (Y/N) everything is fine! I just wanted to ask if you are interested in helping someone.”

“Oh, what do they need help with?” 

“So I have a student in another one of my classes who isn’t doing so hot right now. He puts in a lot of effort but he’s struggling to get a good grasp with writing. I know he could be doing better than he is if he had the right tutor”

(Y/N) inwardly groaned and outwardly exhaled. Jesus Christ not another time sink, they already had sparingly little time as it is. They would have to block out time from other work which was financially more lucrative than just the $12 payout for the hour of tutoring that the university provides.

“You want me to tutor him? I’m not sure I have the time for that.”

“Hear me out (Y/N) I recommended you specifically because you’re the best writer I have in class. I’ve never given out a grade as high as the one I gave to your last paper. Also when I spoke to him yesterday we discussed the cost and he’s willing to pay significantly more than the normal fee out of pocket himself.”

“How much more?”

“$100 per hour for a minimum of 3 hours of your time.”

“Shit”

(Y/N) wasn’t prepared for that, holy shit that was a lot of money. This guy had to come from one of the more loaded families around here. For that kind of cash it wasn’t a lot of work at all to tutor some spoiled brat.

“I told him that you worked part time and might not be available otherwise and that’s what he offered. Great right?”

“Yeah, tell him I’ll do it.”

Ms. Miller hands them a notebook and a pen.

“Just put your contact info here and I’ll hand it to him after class today.”

(Y/N) scribbled it down on the paper and waved to Ms. Miller before hastily retreating out of the door. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne was a master of many things. Before he was a teenager he’s already perfected his skills as a detective, pilot, hacker, medic, and business. He was an expert in quite a few fighting techniques and weapons as well as a trained assassin. To put it plainly Damian is a genius, a fact that he’s well aware of. Damian was so secure in his abilities that the shock of the paper’s grade in front of him hit him like a hollow point bullet. The 66% in bold red letters went right through him. He’d never received a grade THAT low before in his life. He’d have to put in effort on the upcoming short story assignment. He put in a few hours working on something he was proud of and turned it in confidently. The grade of 72% menaced him greatly, what was he doing wrong? For the essay assignment he had put in days and all nighter even taking himself off of patrol for the night. His absolute best effort possible could only net a measly 77%, why was this so hard?

Immediately after he received that grade he approached Ms Miller after Tuesday's English 201 for an explanation. She had generously gone over the work and her feedback for Damian in a way that made it hard for him to blame her for giving him the grade. To compare his story to the top grade she pulled out a printed copy of (Y/N)’s short story Needled and asked him to read it to see what essence he was missing. It only took a few pages for him to see that this one was written in ways he couldn’t have thought to express. His story compared to it was like the work of a child. 

Damian asked what he could do to improve his grades. It was early October and he had to act fast to turn it around to preserve that 4.0 gpa. His response to her suggestion was to scoff. Tutoring? Him? No, he taught others around him and he was above the average college student. Unexpectedly she made an offer that intrigued him, she could arrange for him to receive instruction from the author of that story. Well, if the instruction was from someone more masterful it couldn’t sting too badly. He offered up extra cash to sweeten the pot and Ms. Miller said that she would get back to him by next class if they accepted.

He walked briskly and with purpose to class today, hopeful to be told some good news. Damian weaved in between groups of people moving throughout Lockhart lecture hall effortlessly ignoring other students calling out for his attention. He was never in the mood to socialize with the hangers on but he didn’t have the patience to fake it. That’s another skill his father had that was superior over his own abilities. He wondered if the forbearance of the public facing Bruce Wayne fueled the brusqueness of the Batman. All those thoughts cleared away once he was in front of Ms. Miller’s desk.

“Hello Damian! They agreed to help you, I got their contact info right here.”

“Excellent, thank you.”

Damian went to sit before Ms. Miller spoke up again.

“Just to warn you (Y/N) is a bit rough around the edges but they are really passionate about writing. Don’t get too discouraged.”

Damian nods and heads to his seat, what the hell was that about? He looked down at the sprawling handwriting for (Y/N)’s contact. He thought, so good at typing but poor handwriting huh? After deciphering the phone number he sent the friendliest text he could come up with.

“Hello (Y/N) my name’s Damian. Do you have any free time soon for tutoring? Preferably sometime after 5pm but before 11pm?”

Much to his surprise his phone vibrated quickly with a response.

“I’m going to be working the next two evenings unless you want to meet up tonight. I stay pretty busy so you’ll have to make time to match my schedule.”

He blinked at the response, I suppose he was warned. He wondered what you were like in person.

“Tonight is fine. I’m reserving private study room C for us in Chatsworth Hall at 7pm.”

He completed the reservation online and sent (Y/N) a copy of it.

“Ooh fancy. Fine, I'll be there. Although you should really ASK if a time/place is ok with a person BEFORE you book something. Don’t be late.”

He smirked reading that response from (Y/N). He couldn’t wait for their face go white when he walked in the door. It was always highly amusing to watch someone feel so superior before ultimately groveling at his feet. Tonight was going to be very interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The clock on the wall ticks forward steadily, its unrelenting pace a constant reminder. (Y/N)’s eyes focused on the face of the clock. Sitting inside of study room C (Y/N) had unpacked and made themselves comfortable with their notes neatly around their laptop. 7:12pm. He’s late but at least if he doesn’t show up the room is still booked to work in. Although (Y/N) could really use that extra cash right now. They could have used that cash to ration out groceries for weeks, maybe even longer. (Y/N) was wrapping up work on the feedback for one classmate when the knob of the door turned.

7:16pm. Of course some vigilante complications would have to happen today. Damian had been a few blocks away earlier and spotted some of the Joker gang destroying a retail shop. The assault to their skulls didn’t take long but waiting for GCPD did. From the clues he could gather of the goons this was the start to some Joker shenanigans. That would have to wait though, regardless of what the appointment was Damian hated to be late. What excuse was he gonna use? Car trouble, business meeting, traffic, or maybe a medical emergency?

The door opens and Damian sees who (Y/N) is for the first time. They are smaller than he is but gender neutral in appearance. A large oversized hoodie envelopes their body with the hood over their head and a beanie. Nails painted a shiny black to match the overall look. He opened his mouth to give his chosen excuse of absence.

“I don’t want to hear it, whatever the reason for you being late I’m still charging you for the whole hour.”

Damian raised his eyebrow at them. They haven’t even looked up from their laptop at him, hands furiously typing away at some project. He stood there waiting to make eye contact with this person. Instead all he could look at were the amalgamation of cartoon stickers on the front of the laptop.

“That’s fine with me.”

(Y/N) looked up and met the green eyes of Damian Wayne. Their neutral expression melted into a more irritated look and they stopped typing.

“You got the cash?”

“Yes-”

“Let me see it.”

Damian takes out his wallet and hands (Y/N) $300 in cash. They count it and quickly pocket it with great speed.

“So are you gonna sit down or what?”

If anything (Y/N) had to have gone from curt to rude from seeing him in person. He moved over and took the seat directly next to them. Perhaps they were some hick from the sticks who didn’t have a face for the name yet. He stuck out his hand for a proper introduction and awaited the flushed look of embarrassment surely to follow.

“We haven’t introduced ourselves properly. I’m Damian Wayne.”

(Y/N) looked at him and left his hand hanging there.

“I know who you are. Are we working on your writing or not?”

“What’s your last name?”

“It’s irrelevant, I read through the last three assignments you turned in and made some notes for you”

Damian was transfixed in that moment inside of the study room. This nobody was talking to him the way he treats a weak opponent. Would you talk to him like that if you knew how many people he sent to an ICU let alone killed in the past? Beyond that he hoped you knew how stupid it was to talk to a customer like that.

“So Damian you have a pretty strong grip on your vocabulary. The words are used correctly but sometimes you overwrite in a few places and then suddenly stop. The overall tone of your work is lacking and it feels kind of like a paint by numbers piece.”

Damian scoffs at the comments (Y/N) made at his work. Were they just trying to tear him down a notch?

“It’s not that bad. I’ve always done well before and I’ve read particularly bad writing before.”

“It’s not that it’s objectively the worst thing ever written, it’s just that it says absolutely nothing.”

“I turned in an essay on the importance of creative writing and I explained the importance of creative writing. What more was there to say?”

He leaned in to look into their eyes and examine their countenance. His voice was booming with authority and he felt the urge to watch them wither. (Y/N) matched their gaze and returned the attitude in kind.

“You used a bunch of middle school writing cliches and repeated the same idea multiple times until you got the word count. These same exact opinions are reworded from the top three results of the Google search on the importance of creative writing. Are you here to argue with me or learn something?”

He found himself growing confused about his current feelings. Damian’s incense at (Y/N)’s audacity was annoying like a fly that needed to be swatted down. On the other hand there was a spark of excitement and curiosity. How far could this go? (Y/N) however found themselves growing more vexed by the second. Who asks for help and acts this way? Daddy’s little pompous asshole, that’s who. 

“I do want you to help me”

“Okay. Read over my notes and rewrite this paragraph here and let’s see how it is. I can give you advice and some pointers while you work”

Damian parsed through the notes and began writing a few sentences and promptly scratching them out. He looked over at (Y/N) typing away curious as to what they were doing. Maybe they were grading him already or writing about him on some trashy gossip forum?

“What are you working on (Y/N)?”

They answered without looking up at him for a second.

“I’m working on feedback for my classmates to post, why do you need help?”

“No I was just curious”

“You should try to concentrate on your own work, you don’t have anything at all right now.”

Silence filled the room with an almost palpable presence, as if it was a part of the tutoring session. He decided to try out the “people skills” he observed from Dick and his father to make small talk. After all, he had to find out why you disliked him so much. He tried his best friendly smile and leaned in a bit closer.

“So is writing a big passion of yours? Are you majoring in English?”

(Y/N) stopped typing and rested their hands gently on the table. They slowly turned over to meet his eyes. This was teetering on the edge of a breaking point for (Y/N). They knew exactly why he was here now and what he wanted.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Damian Wayne. I don't write assignments for anyone. Many spoiled babies before you have tried and gotten nowhere. You will get nowhere. If that’s all you wanted from me you can leave. I’m keeping the cash though.”

Damian’s eyes widened and he sat back into the chair.

“You think I’m trying to buy an assignment from you? No, I’m not.”

The silence deafened the room and overwhelmed the two of them. First the pair looked at each other sharply but it didn’t take long before it was obvious to any observer that both were uncomfortable. Damian decides to be the bold one and shatter the stillness like glass.

“Truthfully, I hate not doing something well. It bothers me to not be the best at this like every other subject. I wanted to learn from you because I read your work. It’s…… adequate. Since you are the best here I’m going to learn from you and then I’ll write something that crushes you.”

Damian neutralized his expression with practiced ease and waited to see your response. He wanted to see (Y/N) crack. Instead he saw a thin smile and their eyes rolled.

“That’s a pretty lofty goal for someone who’s trying to break a B but let’s see how far we can get you there.”

And just like that the study session took on a new life. (Y/N) and Damian discussed the paragraphs he wrote, covered some notes, and overall made a bit of progress. Soon the clock chimed for 10:00 and the session was over. As they both packed up their things Damian spoke up.

“So you are working the next few days right? Let’s pick this up again on Sunday.”

“There you go again making plans-”

“I’ve already booked it and I have cash. Is there a problem?”

“Only because you're paying over 8 times the university rate.”

(Y/N) made a move to exit before Damian abruptly stopped them dead in their tracks with his voice.

“It’s late (Y/N) allow me to walk you home.”

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

(Y/N) practically bolted out the door and out of the library at a pace Damian didn’t imagine them capable of. He felt his instincts hum in the back of his mind, something was off here. What were you hiding from him? (Y/N) is another flavor of the week mystery for him to solve and he decided he’d crack the case.

[mixtape-racha]

if you don't know | yang jeongin

☆ part 8/8 of the 5 seconds of stray kids series ☆

words: 1.03k // warnings: friends to nothing, unrequited love, angst

“go ahead, y/n, rip my fucking heart out - show me you think love's all about!”

as jeongin’s eyes brimmed with tears, could you ever be sure of your feelings for him?

you and jeongin had always had a strange relationship. being best friends practically since birth, you both knew each other better than anyone. but god, if you knew that would be your downfall, would you have changed anything.

it started as harmless flirting, playing into everyone’s idea that you were dating. from there, it progressed into being each other’s first kiss - because you were both young and inexperienced, and who better to trust than your best friend? then making out almost every time you’d been drinking. then hooking up on the down low. but, honestly - why wouldn’t you? jeongin was hot, you weren’t blind. and you were both available, but not wanting relationships. just two best friends helping each other scratch an itch, when has that ever gone wrong?

but things changed, so slowly that you barely noticed. jeongin had been clingier - and he was always clingy with you, so getting worse was an accomplishment in itself. he never even looked at other girls, let alone spoke to them. and his reaction to you telling him about a recent hookup was the finishing touch.

“jeongin… you know we’re just friends, right? we could never be anything more?” you asked softly, scanning his face for a response as he turned away and put all of his attention to the tv in front of him.

“yeah, i know. that's why we’re only hooking up, not dating, obviously.” he replied nonchalantly.

you let out a silent sigh of relief, but little did you know that jeongin’s heart was breaking on the other end of the couch. he’d been in love with you for as long as he could remember, and as a disciple of 90’s tv shows and movies, he had put all hope into the idea of you becoming best friends with benefits and you’d inevitably fall in love with him. he realized now the idea was futile, but he was selfish when it came to you. so selfish, in fact, that even if it was just no-strings-attached hookups - on your end, at least - he’d hold onto that. keep you as his for as long as he could.

however, slowly he began distancing himself. he knew that eventually your agreement would come to an end, and he wanted to avoid the hurt as much as he could. yeah, he was selfish, but even keeping you around as a friend when you eventually crumbled his heart up into a thousand pieces would be too much to bare.

it took you over a week to notice his distance, he realized. over a week of barely answering his messages, not hanging out, and no sex. he began to doubt himself over it. was he that replaceable? did you not miss his presence in your life? but, in reality, it was the opposite. you noticed him distancing himself from you, and it wasn’t hard for you to guess why. given the severity of the situation, you wanted to allow him his space, to not push him. you just didn’t realize he’d misjudge your intentions.

when jeongin knocked on your door at 2 in the morning, obviously having had alcohol earlier in the evening, you were surprised. you were even more surprised when he let himself in, the lights in your hallway showing his puffy cheeks and red eyes, indicating that he had been crying.

“oh, innie,” you cooed, sleep still plaguing your voice. “what’s wrong?”

“do you love me?” his voice, stern and resounding, cut you off and made you stop in your tracks. what was this about?

“of course, i love you, innie. you’re my best friend.”

he sighed harshly, running his hands through is hair as he paced through your living room.

“you know thats not what i mean. do you love me, (y/n)? i need to know.”

your heart broke at the state he was in. really, you wanting nothing more than to love him the way he loved you. you’d tried - tried to learn to love him, to see him as more than a friend, but all your efforts were in vain. jeongin was your dearest friend, and nothing more.

“jeongin… i–i don’t know what you want me to say. i can’t tell you something just because its what you want to hear…” your voice cracking, giving away your heartbreak at what you knew the outcome of this would be.

you didn’t want to lose jeongin, never. but you knew that this would be too hard for him. you just hoped that maybe, somewhere in the future, you could settle the differences that drove you apart and become what you used to be. best friends.

he scoffed, and the look on his face was similar to pure disgust.

“so all i am to you is an easy fuck, right? someone you can shag, and then drop for the next guy who wants you in his bed?”

you gasped at his words, even though you understood he was only speaking out of pain. his words were cutting, and even the way he looked at you had you on the verge of tears.

“you know that’s not true. if at any point you said you wanted more, you know i would’ve stopped sleeping with you. it was never supposed to be more than that.”

you were shaking, praying to any and every god that jeongin would see sense. that he would sit and talk it out calmly with you. but it never worked that way, did it? not when jeongin was looking at you like you held the key to his heart and had just thrown it away.

“right. of course not.”

clearly not having any more to say, he stormed back across the living room and towards the front door, with you hot on his tail and begging him to stop - to not leave like this.

“see you around, i guess. i really hope that one day you realize you’ve just lost the one person that everyone knew you wanted, except you.”

as he slammed the door behind him, making you jump, you mulled his words over in your head. was he right? were you lying to yourself, and everyone else? but it didn’t matter, anyway. you were too late.

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @skz-streamer @hyunjiins @backintomykpopphaseagain @demetrisscarf @nappynapnaps

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x reader - cursed trickster

Glancing across the room, you smiled a little to yourself and turned your attention back to the cup in your hands as you stared at the warm tea.

Truth be told you didn’t like tea all that much, sure you would drink it if coffee wasn’t available but it wasn’t your go to drink. But you could never say no whenever Giles offered you tea.

“So, what exactly do we know about this witch or whoever it is?” You asked.

Walking over, you set your cup aside and leant on the back of the couch, leaning over Giles and Buffy’s shoulders to look at the book.

“That she’s apparently just throwing random spells on random people.” Xander said.

“There’s nothing random when it comes to magic Xander, you should know this by now. When practicing it there must always be a clear mind and a clear purpose, especially for spells that affect people’s personalities.”

“Yes, I would have to agree, I don’t think there is anything random about these spells. The ones that have been affected may not know each other, but we cannot be sure that they don’t know our mystery witch.” Giles muttered.

He began flicking through the pages of the book, and you watched him.

You briefly scanned the pages, seeing if there was anything you recognised, but none of it seemed relevant to what was happening.

Reaching over him, you took the book and looked at the cover before you handed it back and pushed yourself from where you were leaning.

“I might have something at my apartment.”

“Oh, can I come? I love your books.” Willow smiled.

“Yeah of course, come on.”

Willow giggled a little and she jumped up to run after you as you made your way out to your car.

Getting your your apartment you looked along the walls that were lined with shelf after shelf of old and ancient books.

“We’re looking for a spell book which contains any reversal spell, then we’ll go from there.”

Willow walked over to a shelf while you went to the opposite end of the room.

“Do you think I could borrow some of these books one day? I’d love to try some of the spells.”

“If you want then yeah, I’ll start you with the ones that are harmless, all my dangerous books are safely locked away.”

You were at it for a few hours and you sighed, running a hand through your hair before sitting on the arm of your chair.

Willow was surrounded by books, and she looked up at you when the phone rang.

Getting up you picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Somethings wrong with Giles! His house!”

Buffy hung up and you sprung to your feet.

“Grab your books, somethings happened to Giles!”

You rushed back, and burst through the door, making a beeline straight for the librarian who was laying on his couch.

“What happened?”

“We don’t know, one minute he’s talking to us the next he’s passed out on the floor.” Xander said.

You nodded, walking around the couch you crouched down, gently shaking him.

“Giles?” You asked.

He grumbled a little bit didn’t sit up or open his eyes, so you shook him again, this time a little harder.

“Giles? Are you alright?”

He swatted your hand, and you held it, rubbing the stinging sensation away.

“Don’t touch me…”

He slowly sat up, looking around at you and you couldn’t tell if he recognised the four of you or not, or if he did there was something different.

He didn’t look as happy or a soft as he usually did when he was with you all, he looked tense, annoyed, and angry.

“You three wait outside.” You said.

They didn’t argue, they left and you stood up, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Giles what happened?”

“You and… and your magic!”

You blinked a few times in confusion.

“What?”

“You’ve been using magic, haven’t you? Making people like you with magic?” He snapped.

“Giles what the hell are you talking about? You know I only practice the dark arts when absolutely necessary, you know what happens when I use it.”

He shook his head and stood up, and you backed away to give him his space.

He ran his hand through his hair and muttered to himself as he paced back and forth.

He was stressed, and you couldn’t tell if it was the spell that was affecting him or if it were something else.

“I.. I was right when I said we should’ve stayed away from you…”

Your face fell.

Now that hurt, it hurt deeply, because that was your biggest fear, the fear of people being scared of you because of what you could do. The fear that people would just one day up and leave.

You clenched your jaw a little and took a small breath.

“Giles listen to me the witch has got to you, she’s trying to make sure we can’t stop her.”

He glared at you, and grabbed his crossbow, aiming it right at you and you quickly raised your hands, backing away to the front door.

“If.. if you’ve hurt them…” he warned lowly.

“You have my word I haven’t laid a hand in them they’re outside, I just want to talk.”

He shook his head.

“Get out. Get out and never come back here, never go anywhere near any of us again.”

There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice, just stone cold threats.

“She never would have been like you.. she.. she was compassionate.. she was good… you’re not her.. you never will be…”

You nodded your head, slowly backing up a few more steps and you glanced to the door behind you before looking at him.

“You’re right. I’ll never be Jenny.”

You shuffled to the side, slowly going to pick up the jacket that you always left at his just in case you needed it.

Then you carried on backing towards the door.

“I’ll go, I won’t come back.”

“If I see you again I.. I swear I’ll.. I’ll hurt you.” He mumbled.

“I won’t.”

“You’re cursed.. a.. a.. a demon…”

You turned around and left, closing the door behind you, and you pulled your jacket on as you turned to the teenager who were waiting.

They all looked at you anxiously and you offered them all a gentle smile.

“He didn’t mean it..” Buffy whispered.

“Forget about it, it doesn’t matter right now. I need you three to stay with him, if he flips on you leave straight away don’t fight him.”

“What will you do?” Xander asked.

“I’ll figure this out, just watch him, keep him safe. We know the spell works quick, I have maybe a few days before he looses all sense of self.”

Willow stepped forward.

“I’ll come with you, I can help.”

“No.”

You turned to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

“No, I need you to stay here and keep me in the loop, I’ll give you the counter spell. It should also give us the location of the witch, she’ll come out of hiding when she knows her spells are broken.”

Willow nodded and they all looked at you sadly.

“You’ll come back?” Xander asked.

You just smiled and stuffed your hands into your pockets as you made your way back to your car to go home.

Your hands trembled, and you fought tears in your eyes as you walked through your door and straight to the back of the apartment.

Muttering a spell, another door showed, and you opened it to reveal a larger room and walked in, letting the door shut behind you.

You didn’t have time to cry over the words that had been said.

Sitting up the table, you began to flick through the books, doing hours and hours of research so you could find something to counter the spell.

Yes, the witch was strong, but you had stronger spells, and after endless hours of reading and drinking way to much coffee for one person you found it.

And you began to gather everything you needed, setting it all up.

You looked at it all, and you sat down, taking a deep breath.

Before you could start, your phone began to ring, and you pushed yourself up so you could go answer it.

“Yes?”

“He’s getting more agitated, Xander had to leave, we don’t know how long we can stay before Giles turns on us…” Buffy whispered.

“I’ve found a spell that can counter not just the one on him, but in everybody, I need you to be ready Buffy.”

“You can’t! Your curse won’t let you!”

“I’ll be fine Buffy, be ready. You or Willie wait by the phone, I’ll track the witch and tell you where she is after.”

Buffy tried to protest, but you hung up and walked back to your spot to sit down.

Rolling up your sleeves, you looked at the cursed mark on your arm, and you rang your hand over it.

“Just give me some time to fix this.. to save them.. to save him..” you mumbled.

With that, you closed your eyes and began to chant.

The pain was instant, immediate, the searing burn that started with the cursed mark, and as you carried on chanting it carried on spreading.

You clenched your teeth through the pain and carried on, finishing one chant and you jumped straight into another.

The pain got worse, and you said the final word, gasping for breath, and you stood on shaky legs, walking over to the map.

All but one part was burned out, and you stumbled to the phone, dialling the number that had just called you.

“Buffy…?” You mumbled.

“What happened? Are you okay?!”

“You.. you’re looking for… the old.. factory..”

“Thank you, we’ll come over straight after and Giles seems to be-“

You didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence, you just hung up, dropping to your knees as you curled into a ball, tears streaming down your face.

The pain was intense, you felt like you were on fire on the inside out. Your head felt like a thousand anvils had been dropped on it, and you could feel the blood running from your nose.

You had no choice but to give into the pain, unable to fight it and you passed out curled into a ball.

Giles shook his head, and he looked around his home where a few things had been thrown, and Willow was stood behind Buffy who looked ready to attack.

“What.. what happened?” He asked.

“The witch got to you, we broke the spell and we know where she is.” Buffy said.

“Willow broke the spell? That’s very powerful magic.”

Willow shook her head and stepped from behind her friend now that she could see Giles was back to his old self.

She glanced at Buffy who nodded her head and turned back to Giles who began to pick things up and put them away.

“I didn’t..”

Giles furrowed his brows a little and paused what he was doing to look at her.

“(Y/N) did…”

The books in his hands fell.

“The.. the curse… what about the curse..?” He whispered.

The two girls shook their heads.

“We don’t know, she didn’t even give us a chance to protest, she did the spell, called to say it was done and hung up.” Buffy said.

“I’ll go, find the witch!”

Giles grabbed his jacket and car keys and he rushed to your apartment, but the closer he got the more painful his head became.

Snippets of memory came back to him as he walked up to your door, and he began to remember everything from when he was affected by the spell.

Giles knocked on the door and waited for a response.

“(Y/N) are you home?” He called.

He waited a moment before reaching above the doorway for the spare key, and he unlocked your door.

“It’s just me.. I.. I’m coming in!” He called out.

Closing the door, he set the key aside and slowly began to look around for any sign of you.

“(Y/N)…?”

Giles checked every room, looked behind every door he could see, and as he was making his way back to the living room he passed a wall and stopped.

Out the corner of his eye he could see the door, but when he looked at it head on he couldn’t.

So, with his head turned away, he reached out in the hopes the door was real and he wasn’t just making a fool out of himself trying to find a door that wasn’t there.

He felt to cold metal, and he pushed it open, slowly stepping inside and he looked around carefully for anything.

“Hello?” He called out.

He heard a noise, and it put him on edge as he slowly moved around.

Walking around the desk, he saw you on the floor near a table where the phone was.

“(Y/N)!”

He rushed over and dropped to your side, carefully reaching out and he pulled back as you screamed in pain.

“I.. I’m so sorry..”

Tears fell from his eyes, and his hands trembled as they hovered over you, absolutely terrified that if he touched you it would only hurt you more.

He could see the blood on the floor, and the blistering of your skin around your cursed mark, his tears fell on your face.

“I.. I.. don’t.. I can’t…”

He couldn’t form a sentence.

Giles didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to help you, how to stop your pain and he only blamed himself for it.

Because if he hadn’t of chased you off, maybe you wouldn’t have done the spell, you’d be okay, even if he wasn’t himself at the time he just could bare the fact you did this to help him even after what he said.

Even after he compared you to the woman he cared about before you, and called you the one thing you hated being called the most.

He pulled his jacket off and he carefully draped it over you, his hand smoothing over your hair as he repeated his quiet apology.

For once, Giles was lost.

He didn’t know what to do

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2022: 6-Giggle

Kagami had never seen her best friend so happy. She was use to Marinette's tiny giggles. They always meant something, but this one seemed new. Kagami sipped on her orange juice and continued to watch Marinette.

'Marinette has changed so much over the last three years.'

She smiled thinking back to the Marinette she had first met. Marinette use to wear pigtails and was so unsure of herself. Past Marinette wore pants and double layers. The Marinette across from her wore clothes she made herself and was confident about them. She now wore her hair down, most days. This Marinette wore off the shoulder tops and floral shorts. She even wore heels, daily.

Marinette wasn't even paying attention to her; she was too busy looking at her phone and sipping her taro boba.

"Adrien send you another cat video?" Kagami questioned.

"No." Marinette smiled, "Damian sent me a video of Titus chasing a squirrel in the park."

'Damian? Titus?'

Kagami looked closely at Marinette's face. It was practically glowing. The fencer quickly realized what was going on.

"You like him!" she announced.

The baker's daughter began to turn red.

"N-No!" Marinette answered, quickly, "Da-Damian is-"

"Don't you dare turn into Adrien." her friend interrupted.

Marinette closed her mouth and pouted.

Kagami questioned, "Does he make you happy?"

Mari nodded.

"Is he available to meet up?" the fencer continued.

"Damian doesn't leave here." Marinette answered, "He lives in the U.S."

'Long distance? I can work with this.'

"How do you spend time together?" she asked.

"We call each other, text, or do video calls." the designer admitted.

"So, ask him out!" Kagami declared.

Marinette placed her phone in her lap. Kagami couldn't understand the sadness overcoming her best friend's face.

"D-Damian is a lot like you." Marinette began, "He doesn't really…….He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve. He keeps it hidden so I really don't know. I can honestly say we're friends and he doesn't use that word so easily."

"I see." Kagami frowned, "Tell me more about him. Is he like Adrien?"

"Nope." Mari continued, "Complete opposite. Damian is bluntly honest and doesn’t hide behind words. If he doesn’t like something, he'll say it to your face. Honesty is something I have always admired. He loves animals and we talk a lot about art. He's one of the few who understands my art ramble nonsense, the most."

"What about us dragging you out to do things that don't involve work?" the fencer questioned with a smirk.

"He doesn’t know." the designer declared, "And I'm not telling him."

"I should tell him." Kagami smirked.

Marinette shouted, "No!" pulling her phone closer to her chest.

Gami chuckled, "What is he going to do? Is he going to get on a flight, come over and yell at you?"

"He might." Marinette flushed pink, "If not, he'll blow up my phone."

"Then," Kagami began, "I wish to fight him in combat."

"No!" Marinette exclaimed.

"Is he weaker than Adrien?" the fencer questioned.

Mari bit her lip, before admitting, "I think he's stronger that you both and I don’t want you to get hurt. He's been trained to fight with blades since he was four. He's told me he has scars; Damian ususally dresses in layers."

The Tsurugi heir smiled, "Then, it seems you will be protected and taken care of. He sounds worthy of you."

Marinette blushed, "Kagami, I….I don't know if I can do this again. I can't wait to figure out if I'm going to get my heart broken again for no reason. I know I like him, but it……different from last time."

Suddenly, Marinette's phone began to ring. She looked at it and saw Damian was calling her. She began to panic.

"Answer it." Kagami demanded.

Marinette gulped and answered her phone, "Damian?"

"Marinette, I'd like to have the pleasure of taking you out on a date." Damian spoke, suddenly.

Marinette turned red. Kagami began to nod her head and Mari mirrored her.

"Yes!" Kagami shouted, "Words, Marinette! Use your words!"

"Yes?" Mari answered.

She could hear Damian chuckling at her response.

"I will call you later with more details of when it is possible to meet up." the Wayne heir continued.

Marinette smiled at the thought of meeting up sometime soon.

"Also, Habibiti, I loved your confession." he concluded.

"What?" she questioned.

"You called me, first. I did try to get your attention, but I can certainly say our feelings are mutual." Damian replied, before hanging up.

Marinette quickly pulled her phone away from her ear. She clicked on the call icon and saw she had called Damian and the call had lasted almost ten minutes. Damian had ended the call and called her immediatley.

'I called him!'

Kagami began to laugh at her friend's misfortune.

"Not again!" exclaimed Marinette.

"Again?" Kagami questioned.

Mari nodded and set her head on the table.

Kagami seemed perplexed, "This happened before?"

"Alya got me to call Adrien to ask him out, once, but I got his voicemail. I thought I had hung up. I went on this long rant; I called him 'Hot Stuff'. When I found out the voicemail was still going, I ended up breaking into his locker and stealing his phone to delete it." Mari admitted.

Kagami looked at her friend and began to laugh. Marinette giggled nervously, before breaking out into laughter.

Kagami's laughter died down into a giggle, "I think this time, it will end well."

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

[enhyhoonie]

Red Moon (Prologue)

Pairings: No pairings (fem!reader)

Genres: Fantasy!au, DarkRomance, !NSFW!

Triggers: Gonna have smut, bad languages, blood, death, kinda gore

WC:  4.3k

A/n: It’s gonna be a loooooong serie...also there’s no pairing it will be like a all together thing (lol). I hope you guys will like it :’) Anyways if there’s anything you can always inbox me <3 Guys! Try to guess who said the last phrases 🤭

Prologue

Being the eldest daughter in the family has never brought me any luck... Especially when the child born after me is a boy. Jungwon, my little brother, was automatically proclaimed the future heir of our family. Ever since he was born, I've been almost invisible to our parents, and of course, this also rubbed off on the servants. All my governess and guardian had done my education and follow. Fortunately, they took good care of me and showered me with immense love to replace that of my parents. I was never jealous of my brother; He and I loved each other very much. It's not his fault that our parents favor him so much...it's something he can't control. Unfortunately for him, he's a terrible student. Ever since he was a child, he's only skipped his lessons with the tutor to practice with his sword. As a result, I did his homework on his stade. He wasn't fit to be an heir...but I...I absolutely wanted to...be the heiress. But of course, that would never happen...as long as Jungwon remained alive.

_"Jungwon, start learning your lessons more seriously. When you will be the head of the family, I will not do your job secretly for you like I'm doing now." I told him.

We were sitting at a table in the library; me reading a book; him sitting opposite me, almost lying on the table, looking at me sulkily.

_"Y/n I came to see you to spend time with you, not for you to lecture me."

_“I never asked you to come and see me, anyway.”

_"Wow, that's mean."

_"Look, we're not kids anymore. This is no time for jokes or making light of your role. Get a grip."

_"You're the only person I can be with without worrying about a role I never wanted and now you talk like everyone else... I thought you understood me." He said, really hurt.

I lifted my eyes from my book and looked at him gently.

_“I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that.”

_”Forget it”. He said before storming out of the library.

That was the last time I saw my brother before he disappeared.

It had already been a month since my brother disappeared. We had moved heaven and earth to find him, but to no avail. We found no trace of him, as if he'd vanished. The tension in the house was unbearable, and I spent most of the day in my room. How could he have disappeared so easily? How come he still hasn't been found? Is he still alive or... dead? I was worried sick.

The door to my room opened. I turned around and saw my mother and father.

_”Why did you do that?” My mother shouted.

_”What do you mean?” I answered, confused.

_”Don't play with us. You think we didn't understand your little ploy?”

_”I don't understand.”

_"You got rid of Jungwon so you could be the heiress."

_"I would never do that to my brother." I said in shock.

_”We're aware that you're desperate to become the heiress, and knowing you..."

I cut my mother off.

_”What are you insinuating? That I'm so cruel as to hurt my brother just for a position?" I said, feeling my rage rising.

My parents said nothing.

_”It's funny to hear you say you know me when you know nothing about me. You haven't even been able to fulfill your role as parents because I'm a girl who won't bring anything to the family."

_”Don't talk nonsense..." began my father, before being interrupted by the servant who came storming through the door.

_”The young Lord has returned!” He said breathlessly.

I rushed to the entrance of the mansion and saw my brother standing there unharmed. I ran to him and hugged him tightly. 

_”Jungwon, I'm so happy you're here safe and sound...you don't know how worried I was.” I said, my face buried in his chest, holding back my tears.

I stepped back a little and cupped his face to get a good look. He looked at me expressionlessly, which made the smile disappear from my face. 

_“Jungwon?” I said, confused.

He stepped back and passed me.

_”Don't worry, big sister, I'm fine.” He said indifferently.

Jungwon had returned to the manor after his disappearance. According to what he told us, on the day of his disappearance, Jungwon had gone to the river to practise his sword, fell off the pond and was swept away by the current. They then found him unconscious by a noble house, the Vempes, who took care of him for the past month until he recover and could come back to us. 

I never heard about this noble house. Jungwon said they are 6 brothers in this family and the head of the family is actually the older one. They are living in the far East of the Kingdom. 

The days that followed Jungwon's return felt like a surreal blur. His presence lingered in the halls of our family manor, but the vibrant, lively brother I once knew seemed to have left us at the riverbank where he disappeared. In his place stood a stranger, wearing Jungwon's face but not his spirit.

He became a ghost in our home, moving with an eerie silence that echoed through the corridors. The brother who once laughed and practiced his sword diligently now immersed himself in books and scrolls. 

His transformation was unsettling, as if the river had not only swept him away physically but had also carried away the essence of his being. I tried to reach out, to bridge the gap that had emerged between us, but my attempts were met with a stoic indifference that sent shivers down my spine.

The dinners we used to share turned into silent rituals, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery on porcelain. Jungwon's eyes, once warm and familiar, now held an inscrutable gaze that seemed to penetrate through the very core of my being. It was as if a veil had been drawn over his soul, shielding him from the world.

One evening, I found him in the library, surrounded by ancient tomes and dim candlelight. His eyes were fixed on the text before him, but his mind seemed to be wandering through distant realms. The sight of him hunched over those books, a stark departure from his former self, tore at my heart.

_"Jungwon," I called softly, careful not to startle him. He looked up, and for a moment, I glimpsed a flicker of recognition in his eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, distant gaze that had become his new normal.

_"What happened to you?" I asked, the words escaping my lips before I could censor them.

He closed the book with deliberate slowness, meeting my gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. "I'm just doing what needs to be done," he replied, his voice devoid of the warmth that once defined it.

The sense of loss deepened as I realized that the brother I had known and loved was slipping away, replaced by a version of him that was a mere shadow of the past. The mystery of his disappearance had been solved, but in its wake, a new enigma had taken root within the very heart of our family.

I hesitated for a moment, watching the flickering candlelight cast shadows on his unreadable expression. The air in the library felt heavy with unspoken tension as I searched for words that could bridge the growing gap between us.

_"What needs to be done?" I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper. "You've changed, Jungwon. Ever since you came back, it's like you're a different person."

He sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of an entire world. "Y/n, the responsibilities that come with being the heir, they're not to be taken lightly. I've realized I can't afford to be the carefree brother I used to be."

_"But that doesn't mean you have to shut me out," I pleaded, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "We've been through everything together. Why this sudden distance?"

Jungwon's gaze remained fixed on the closed book before him, a mask of detachment veiling his features. "You wouldn't understand, Y/n. The burden of leadership is not something you can grasp."

_"I may not be the heir, but I'm still your sister," I retorted, my voice gaining a hint of desperation. "We've faced challenges as a family, and we've always supported each other. Why push me away now?"

He finally looked up, and his eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made me catch my breath. "You don't get it, do you? This is not just about family. The Vempes taught me things, things that matter for the future of our legacy."

_"The Vempes?" I echoed, confusion etching lines on my face. "What did they teach you that turned you into this... stranger?"

He leaned back, folding his arms with an air of finality. "They showed me the importance of knowledge, strategy, and discipline. Qualities I lacked, qualities needed to ensure the prosperity of our family."

I shook my head in disbelief. "Jungwon, you were fine the way you were. You don't need to sacrifice who you are for some idealized version of leadership."

His expression remained impassive, unmoved by my plea. "This is the path I've chosen. I won't let sentimentality cloud my judgment."

A heavy silence settled between us, the words hanging in the air, echoing the irreparable distance that had grown between the brother I once knew and the stranger who now wore his face.

The Vempes remained an enigma, an unsettling puzzle. My curiosity, once a gentle whisper, had grown into a persistent ache, compelling me to dig deeper into the shadows that surrounded their name.

Late into the night, I roamed the vast halls of our mansion, searching for any hidden records, ancient scrolls that might shed light on the mysterious family that had claimed my brother for a month. The library, my sanctuary for solace and knowledge, yielded nothing. No tomes spoke of the Vempes, and the scrolls held no mention of their existence.

It was as if they were a phantom family. The absence of information about them only intensified the unease that had settled in my chest. Families, especially noble ones, were documented meticulously. Yet, the Vempes seemed to exist beyond the reach of such conventions.

Why did the Vempes keep to the shadows? What secrets did their distant home in the far East hold? My frustration mingled with the realization that, in the vast expanse of our mansion's library, the silence about the Vempes was deafening.

The Vempes had claimed to teach my brother essential virtues for our family's legacy, yet their own legacy remained shrouded in silence.

The library was dimly lit, and Jungwon was engrossed in a book, his eyes scanning the pages with an intensity that made me hesitate. The air felt heavy with unspoken tension as I approached, determined to breach the subject that had become an unspoken barrier between us.

_"Jungwon," I started cautiously, "we need to talk about the Vempes."

He closed the book, his expression shifting ever so slightly, a subtle discomfort surfacing. "There's nothing to discuss," he replied, his tone clipped.

_"But there is," I persisted. "You disappeared for a month, and all we know is that the Vempes took you in. I want to understand why they hold such sway over you, why their influence has transformed you into someone I can hardly recognize."

He met my gaze, his eyes guarded. "Some things are better left unexplored, Y/n. The Vempes have their ways, their reasons. It's not a path you want to tread."

Frustration bubbled within me, and I refused to be deterred. "They cared for you for a month, Jungwon. You owe them that much. Why the secrecy? What did they do to you?"

His eyes betrayed a hint of discomfort, but he quickly masked it. "They did what they believed necessary. Now, I have responsibilities to fulfill. That's all that matters."

The distance between us felt like an unbridgeable chasm. "Responsibilities? What did they teach you that turned you into this... stranger?"

He sighed, a weariness settling in his features. "Discipline, strategy, knowledge. Qualities our family lacked, qualities essential for our prosperity."

_"They've changed you," I pressed, desperation creeping into my voice. "You've become someone I can't reach, and I can't stand by without understanding why."

A fleeting expression—was it regret?—crossed his face gone in an instant. "Y/n, the less you know, the better. This is my path, and I won't let you get entangled in its complexities."

The finality in his voice left me with a sinking feeling, the realization that my brother, my confidant, had become a stranger guarding secrets. "Jungwon," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, "I can't watch you disappear like this. Whatever they've done, we should face it together."

He stood, the distance between us growing palpable. "Some paths are meant to be walked alone. This is one of them."

And with those words, he left the library, leaving me behind in the quiet that echoed with unanswered questions and the heavy weight of an unspoken divide. The truth about the Vempes seemed to be a fortress. He had no intention of letting me breach.

The once vibrant streets of the kingdom now echoed with a silent unease. Whispers of fear flitted through the air like shadows, and the once bustling marketplaces were gripped by a palpable tension. The kingdom had become a place of caution and apprehension, a far cry from the lively realm it once was.

Reports of people disappearing and turning up dead with their throats gruesomely slashed had become a haunting reality. Each day, the list of victims grew, leaving behind a trail of horror and a kingdom on edge. The unsettling notion that a shadowy figure lurked in the shadows, preying on the unsuspecting, gnawed at the collective consciousness.

The manner in which these victims were left, drained of blood, sent shivers down my spine. The kingdom had become a dangerous labyrinth, and the walls were closing in. Questions raced through my mind like a tempest: Who could be behind these gruesome acts? What motive could drive someone to commit such heinous crimes?

Theories and suspicions danced in the recesses of my thoughts. Was it an outsider, an infiltrator with a vendetta against the kingdom? Or could it be someone within the court, hidden behind a façade of nobility? The air of uncertainty hung thick, and trust became a fragile commodity in the face of an unknown assailant.

The mansion's corridors echoed with hushed whispers as I passed by a group of maids, their heads bent together in a conspiratorial discussion. Unable to resist eavesdropping, I slowed my steps, catching fragments of their conversation that reverberated through the air like a clandestine melody.

_"...heard they found another one, throat slit just like the others..."

_"Awful, isn't it? And not a drop of blood left in them. It's like they were drained dry."

The weight of the kingdom's collective fear hung in the air, but one particular phrase caught my attention.

_"...vampires, they say. Creatures of the night, feasting on the blood of the living."

A shiver ran down my spine as I heard the word "vampires." It was a fantastical notion, an irrational explanation meant to feed the fears that gripped the maids and, perhaps, the entire kingdom. Vampires, in my pragmatic view, were creatures of myth and legend, not malevolent beings prowling the shadows of our realm.

I continued down the corridor, dismissing the notion as irrational gossip fueled by the escalating fear. Vampires were the stuff of stories, not plausible culprits in a series of murders. The reality, I believed, lay in the tangible world, a world where motives and individuals could be unraveled and understood.

The evening air was thick with tension as our family gathered for dinner. The familiar grandeur of the dining hall seemed to pale beneath the weight of unspoken words. The clinking of silverware against porcelain resonated in the silence, interrupted only by the occasional exchange of guarded glances.

The butler approached my father with an ornate envelope, sealed with an unknow insignia . As the wax seal was broken, a hushed anticipation settled over the room. The contents of the letter were read aloud, revealing an invitation to a grand ball hosted by the Vempes, celebrating their recent establishment in the kingdom.

_"They specifically request our family as honored guests," my father announced, his expression shifting between curiosity and caution. "It seems they consider Jungwon part of their family and wish to see how he's fared since his return."

A subtle chill settled over the room as the words hung in the air. Jungwon's eyes betrayed a flicker of displeasure, an emotion he struggled to conceal. The Vempes' influence, it seemed, reached beyond the realm of our immediate family.

_"I have no interest in attending their ball," Jungwon stated curtly, his voice laced with an undercurrent of resentment.

My mother's eyes flickered toward Jungwon, concern etched on her face. "Jungwon, dear, it's a formal invitation. It would be impolite to decline, especially considering the hospitality they extended to you during your... absence."

Jungwon's jaw tightened, his frustration palpable. "Their hospitality was unnecessary, and this invitation is nothing more than a pretense. I won't play into their hands."

The air in the room grew heavier as Jungwon attempted to dissuade our parents, urging them to reconsider attending the Vempes' ball. His objections were met with gentle dismissals, my parents seemingly captivated by the allure of the invitation.

_"But it's an opportunity to strengthen ties with the Vempes. They've extended a gesture of goodwill, and we shouldn't spurn it," my father reasoned, glancing at Jungwon with a knowing look.

I observed the exchange, torn between my brother's evident discomfort and the diplomatic considerations that seemed to sway my parents. The Vempes, with their mysterious influence and the recent unsettling events in the kingdom, had woven a complex tapestry that ensnared our family.

Jungwon's reluctance persisted, an unspoken tension radiating from him like an invisible force. Despite his objections, the decision had been made. The Vempes' ball loomed on the horizon, a gathering that held promises of both revelation and uncertainty. As the dinner continued, the looming specter of the invitation cast a shadow over our family, and I couldn't shake the feeling that attending the ball might unravel more than just the dance of formalities.

Under the veil of the night, I discreetly slipped away from the confines of the dining hall, clutching the Vempes' invitation in my hand. The flickering candlelight in the corridor illuminated the intricate calligraphy that adorned the parchment. My fingers traced the elegant curves of the writing as I read the words penned by the head of the Vempes family.

---

Dear Esteemed Guests,

It is with great pleasure that the Vempes family extends an invitation to you and your honored family to attend a grand celebration in our newly established residence within the kingdom. As we embark on this new chapter, we find ourselves drawn to the bonds that tie us to those we consider family. We have come to cherish the presence of your son, Jungwon, who, through fate's design, spent a month under our care. In honor of the unity between our families, we invite you to a ball where joyous festivities will abound. This gathering serves not only to commemorate our newfound place in the kingdom but also to renew the bonds between us. Our family, eagerly anticipates the pleasure of your company. We extend our warmest welcome and look forward to sharing an evening of merriment. May this event strengthen the ties that bind us. With utmost sincerity,

Heeseung Vempes

---

The words on the parchment painted a picture of warmth and hospitality, but beneath the polished surface, a subtle undercurrent of intent lingered. It was evident that Heeseung Vempes and his brothers sought more than just a social gathering; they desired news about Jungwon.

The inked script hinted at a genuine interest in our family, particularly Jungwon's well-being. However, as I read between the lines, a lingering suspicion tugged at the corners of my mind. The Vempes, with their intricate dance of family and enigma, seemed to be orchestrating a narrative that transcended the boundaries of mere cordiality.

The day of the ball arrived, shrouded in an air of anticipation that seemed to cling to every guest as they approached the imposing manor of the Vempes. The grand facade of the residence loomed overhead, its architecture both impressive and vaguely unsettling. As we stepped out of the carriage, the evening shadows cast eerie silhouettes, adding an undertone of foreboding to the already ominous atmosphere.

Dressed in a gown of deep red, I couldn't shake the feeling that the color mirrored the subtle unease that settled in my chest. Jungwon, clad in a matching hue, wore an expression of annoyance that seemed to deepen with each passing moment. His discomfort, palpable in the tension that lingered between us, mirrored the aura of the Vempes' manor.

Before we entered the grand hall, my parents issued a stern warning. "Y/n, we expect you to conduct yourself appropriately. Do not create a commotion," my father cautioned, his eyes stern. The unspoken implication hung in the air — any disruption would jeopardize not only our family's reputation but also our delicate ties with the Vempes.

The grand doors swung open, revealing a hall bathed in opulence. The chandeliers cast a warm glow, and the polished marble floors reflected the elegant attire of the assembled guests. However, an unsettling hollowness pervaded the atmosphere, accentuated by the conspicuous absence of the Vempes. The Vempes, the hosts of the evening, were notably absent.

Jungwon's irritation deepened, evident in the furrow of his brow and the tightening of his jaw. He exchanged curt nods with acquaintances, his gaze searching the room for any sign of the elusive hosts.

The ballroom, despite its grandeur, seemed to pulse with an undercurrent of unease. Guests engaged in polite conversation, laughter echoed against the ornate walls, yet an intangible tension lingered in the air. Jungwon remained by my side, his presence a silent reassurance in the midst of the enigmatic gathering.

As the night unfolded, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of being observed. A subtle weight hung in the air, an invisible gaze that followed my every move. It was as if unseen eyes traced the contours of my gown, scrutinized the nuances of my expression. The sense of being watched intensified with each step, an eerie awareness that stirred the hairs on the back of my neck.

Jungwon's vigilance did not go unnoticed. His eyes, ever watchful, mirrored the unease I felt. His protective stance was both comforting and disconcerting, a testament to the unspoken understanding that something beyond the surface transpired within the walls of the Vempes' manor.

Amidst the masked dancers and glittering chandeliers, Jungwon's proximity offered solace. His presence, both protective and troubled, hinted at a shared apprehension. Together, we moved through the dance floor, our steps echoing in the cavernous hall, our senses attuned to the enigma that enveloped the night.

From the concealed vantage point of the interior balcony, six shadows loomed against the warm glow of the ballroom below. Their silhouettes, distinct and enigmatic, observed the festivities unfolding beneath them. Yet, their focus was singular, converging on one figure amidst the swirling dancers — Y/n.

Among the six shadows, one stood apart, his gaze fixated on Y/n with an intensity that bordered on predatory. His features were obscured by the dim light, rendering his intentions inscrutable. He watched her, not with the curiosity of a guest, but with the calculated interest of a hunter sizing up its prey.

The others, shrouded in whispered conversations, exchanged words in hushed tones. Their discussions seemed to carry an air of secrecy, as if unraveling a plan known only to the conspirators. Their eyes occasionally flickered toward the lone figure, their intentions veiled in the dance of shadows.

As the mysterious observer continued to scrutinize Y/n, his fellow shadows exchanged glances and murmurs. The air around them crackled with an energy that transcended the ordinary revelry of a ball.

The atmosphere on the interior balcony became charged with an aura of anticipation. The mysterious observer's gaze remained fixed on Y/n, his intentions cloaked in ambiguity.

The hushed whispers among the five shadows intensified, their clandestine conversation taking a more sinister turn. The air around them crackled with an energy that bespoke a shared malevolence, and their eyes gleamed with a devilish glint. Among them, the one who had been observing Y/n with predatory intent emerged as the central figure, the puppet master orchestrating the macabre symphony.

As the conspiratorial murmurs reached their zenith, the shadows exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening into devilish grins. The atmosphere on the interior balcony became charged with an unsettling anticipation, and a shiver seemed to traverse the collective spine of the shadowy assembly.

The standing figure, with a sinister smile that mirrored his nefarious thoughts, spoke with a lecherous edge, "Should I just take her in the garden and do her like an animal? I just can't wait anymore."

His words hung in the air, laden with an ominous implication that sent a chill through the shadows' conspiratorial circle. The ballroom below, oblivious to the malevolent forces at play, continued its dance of revelry. Unaware to the shadows, a sinister undercurrent pulsed within the shadowy recesses of the Vempes' manor, where the convergence of dark desires hinted at a night that held more than mere celebration.

_”Alright, time to start the show.”

[nikibogwater]

Niki Blethers: Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio LET’S FREAKIN’ GOOOOOOOOO--

In case it was not already obvious, this was my most anticipated movie of the year. Heck, it was my only anticipated movie of the year. Having learned the hard way just how deeply disappointment stings, I don’t usually get my hopes up this high. But darn it, everything I heard about this movie prior to its release just filled me with too much excitement to ignore, and now that it is finally available to the wider public, it is my great pleasure to say--

HOLY MOTHER OF MARMALADE, DID THIS MOVIE LIVE UP TO MY HYPE AND THEN SOME

(Mild spoilers below the cut, GO WATCH THIS MOVIE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY I FIRMLY BELIEVE THAT IT’S A MASTERPIECE)

First up: stop motion animation. We love to see it. And this movie doesn’t cut any corners with the stop motion. Even the fire is stop motion. The backgrounds are paintings (gorgeous ones at that), not just CG landscapes. The sets are so incredibly detailed I could’ve spent several minutes just staring at any given wide shot. There were very few instances where I could clearly see any effects that were obviously done in a computer. The animators and set builders went hard on this movie, and they have 1000% of my respect for it. 

Despite being a whimsical fairy tale, there is a pretty heavy sense of realism with this movie. Like, one scene, you have an overeager Pinocchio singing a cute little song about how excited he is to be alive, and then in the next one, he and Geppetto are walking past buildings plastered with posters promoting Mussolini’s Fascist regime. The way the film balances these two tonal opposites is absolutely genius, and I can’t remember a single instance of a jarring shift in tone. The light and whimsical always eases into the dark and realistic in a way that makes me feel like the two sides couldn’t exist without each other. 

Also speaking of realism, CAN I GET A HALLELUJIA FOR SOME HONEST-TO-GOODNESS CATHOLIC REP IN A CURRENT-YEAR CHILDREN’S MOVIE?!

This is obviously a personal thing for me, but I pretty much never see any accurate, respectful portrayals of my religion outside of films that are specifically made for Catholics. And I’ma be real with you, more often than not, the films made specifically for us turn out to be unbearably preachy or saccharine (and they’re never animated--another major point against them). To see a character who simply IS a Catholic (because this is Italy during the 1910s, so it’d be a little out-of-the-ordinary for him not to be), doing his little Catholic things, without it being a huge focus of the story or directly influencing the plot--ie, Catholicism being portrayed as just another normal part of every-day life--GAH. IT WAS JUST REALLY SPECIAL TO ME, OKAY? 

Also Geppetto locking Pinocchio in a closet because he doesn’t have time to deal with this, it’s time to go to Mass is a big fat Catholic mood. 

Okay, I’ll shut up about the Catholic stuff. Back to the movie.

If I had a nickel for every time David Bradly made me cry with his performance as a struggling father-figure overcoming the estrangement between him and his adopted son, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t very many, but it’s great that it happened twice. 

Ewan McGregor practically carries this movie as Sebastian J. Cricket. I knew he was going to be good, but somehow I failed to foresee just how good he truly is in the role. This interpretation of Jiminy Cricket as a mildly self-absorbed novelist who sees Pinocchio as little more than his house for most of the film is just *chef’s kiss.*

Ron Perlman as the Podestà was incredible. I actually didn’t realize it was him until three-fourths of the way through the movie, he just vanishes into the role so smoothly. And gotdang, is that character scary. 

Christoph Waltz clearly went all out with Count Volpe and I bet recording sessions with him were very fun. 

Gregory Mann did so great for such a little guy! It’s hard to find child actors, and even harder to find child voice actors, but he was fantastic, and really sold the character. 

Speaking of characters, OH MY GOSH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH WHERE DO I BEGIN

Geppetto is a very sentimental old guy whose only joy in life was his son Carlo. After Carlo is killed in a bombing raid, Geppetto completely collapses under the weight of his grief. Carving Pinocchio isn’t something he does out of creativity or joy, but rather the result of drunken and despairing rage. The scene is played out as a grotesque and heartbreaking moment, and I LOVE it. 

Pinocchio himself is a Very Real Boy from the start--by which I mean, he never shuts up, he gets into everything, he’s kind of a brat, and he brings unbridled chaos to Geppetto’s life in the way that only a young child can. I like it when movies portray children as, y’know, actual children, not just tiny adults. Yeah, kids are loud, they break stuff, they annoy the heck out of you, and they are also so, so precious, they’re worth every second of it. 

I’ve already talked about Sebastian J. Cricket so all I’m gonna say here is I felt the line “Oh, the pain! Life is such hideous pain” right down to my core.

This movie covers a lot of heavy themes, such as the difficulties of fatherhood, abuse, war, death, and grief. But it does so in a way that left me with a sense of hope. It doesn’t shy away from the reality of these things, but it assures you that you can endure them, that you can find immense joy even in the midst of great suffering. 

To get a little personal for the second time, the way this movie goes about presenting the reality of death and the grief of those left behind resonated with me very deeply. I’m the youngest child in my immediate family, and deep down, there’s a part of me that dreads the day when they will pass on and leave me behind. Barring any unforeseen accidents, I will likely outlive most of my siblings, and I’m lowkey terrified of that inevitablilty. So there was something oddly comforting about a film that speaks directly to my fear like that. A film that doesn’t sugar coat or try to persuade me that it won’t be so bad. A film that tells me my time with my family is so much more precious because it is so fleeting. 

So yeah, tears were shed, I’m not ashamed to admit it. 

I could probably say a bajillion things more about this movie, but it’s getting late now and I’ve prattled long enough. In conclusion, 10/10, easily the best movie of my year, and I truly think I can forgive Del Toro for Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans now. 

[meyrinn-revery]

My savior, my blackmailer...

Notes : This writing comes from my Hogwarts Legacy story We had it all available on Wattpad in English and French (Nous avions tout). Enjoy !

_________________________________________

Synopsis of the story : ' All my life I've been heading for hell, but never had I thought I'd drag you down as well ' - Sebastian Sallow

' They sold their hearts for diamonds and gold. I refuse to go down the same path as them. You and I have everything. ' -Omnis Gaunt

❗Warning : Hogwarts Legacy game spoilers❗

Y/n is a young witch who entered Hogwarts in the 5th year, and who found her place among the Slytherins. Between her many outings to explore the surroundings of the castle, or her fights against poachers, giant spiders or even trolls, her year was eventful.

Ranrok now defeated, and Hogwarts saved from a disastrous fate, y/n must face new dilemmas : the death of her beloved professor Eleazar Fig; and her budding feelings for two of her closest friends, Omis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow. Two handsome boys with tortured souls. They are the opposite of each other, but have one thing in common : their love for y/n.

The OWLs are fast approaching and the year is coming to an end. Y/n hopes somehow that her 6th year will go well. But between her mixed feelings, the responsibilities that will be entrusted to her at Hogwarts and the new threats that will hang over her and her friends, can she hope to one day find a peaceful and safe life ?

_________________________________________

After almost a fifteen minute walk, we finally arrive at our destination. We can already hear the music and smell the smells of food and sweets that characterize this place.

Garreth takes me by the arm and leads me down a crowded street. An orchestra is playing on the side, several passers-by come out of restaurants or bars, and I can see from the perfectly arranged hairstyles of some ladies that they are coming out of the hairdressing salon of Madam Snelling.

' Hogsmeade, my second home ! ' Said my friend while jumping like a child.

' What do you want us to start with ? Honeydukes ? Gladrags ? I'll also have to go to J. Pippin's Potions and Spintwitches. '

' Um...better do what you want first. I think that of the two of us, you will be the one who will take the longest. ' I said, laughing tenderly.

' As you wish miss L/n. So, let's go to J. Pippin's Potions, it's the closest. '

Garreth and I run around the streets like two excited kids, but we don't care, it makes us feel good. We laugh out loud for no particular reason, and inadvertently bump into a few passers-by.

Once we reach our goal, Weasley immediately buys everything his wallet allows. In total, it comes out with a dozen articles.

' What are you going to do with all this ? A new secret potion ? '

My friend nods with a smile on his lips.

' I want to know what it's going to be ! Something that will help us make whoever we want disappear ? Or being able to read other people's minds ? ' I said pulling his arm towards me to annoy him.

' Be more inventive Y/n ! Well, all I can tell you is that it will benefit a lot of people, mainly you. '

The smile on his face fades as he says those words, and his gaze is lost in space.

It's weird, but it's Garreth...I'm going to act like this conversation never happened, he'll tell me more when he feels like it.

' W - well ! Let's go to Spintwitches ? ' I said trying to change the subject subtly.

We head to the sports needs store. I know that before the cancellation of the Quidditch year, Garreth was on the Gryffindor team. I imagine he wants to buy some new gear in case Black decides to rehabilitate this practice next year.

When we walk into the store, Albie Weekes greets us with a beaming smile.

' Good evening ! What a pleasure to receive the visit of two of my favorite customers ! '

My friend walks up to the shopkeeper and shakes his hand as a sign of politeness.

' I need a new broom. Mine has had a few...issues lately. ' He replies, approaching the selection of flight equipment.

We spend a good quarter of an hour with Mr. Weekes, Garreth familiarizing himself with the brooms he likes the most.

After paying for the goods, we leave the store.

' I didn't know you had trouble with your broom. ' I told him looking at him, curious.

' It broke recently. I was flying in a too risky area where air currents are usual, and my broom swerved. Not only did I land in a frozen swamp, but my equipment also collided with a massive rock. ' He said mimicking each action.

' Wait... So that's why a week ago you came to potions class all soaked and you smelled like dugbog ?! '

Garreth laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

' Yes exactly. Sharp really didn't like it. And...how do you know what the dugbogs smell like ? '

' I was forced to face a whole bunch of them...against my will, believe me. ' I said, shaking my head from side to side as the memories flooded into my mind.

We continue to share with each other all the rather funny misadventures that we have experienced during the year, when we arrive in Gladrags.

' So, I buy the uniform, and then we go to The Three Broomsticks ? ' I ask, to be sure we're on the same page.

My friend nods his head smiling fondly at me.

I always feel confident by his side. I know he will never hurt me and that I can be myself with him without worrying.

We enter the store. While I look for a new uniform with the help of one of the shopkeepers, Garreth takes a look at the shirts.

After a little while trying on different outfits, I finally found the one that suits me.

The skirt is a bit darker than the basic uniform, the shirt is white, and beautiful silver roses are embroidered on the left side. The wizard robe is black and green, and a large snake, also silver, is embroidered on the back of the garment.

' It's a temporary collection, so the items in it are quite expensive. But since it's for you, Miss L/n, I'll lower the price. ' The Head manager told me.

And indeed, I was entitled to a great reduction. I only paid a quarter of the original price !

Garreth and I exit the store. I'm as happy as a niffler when he gets galleons.

My friend puts his arm around my shoulders, and points to the light emanating from The Three Broomsticks.

' Are we going to drink this butterbeer ? I'm starting to get thirsty ! ' He said grabbing my arm.

I sigh, laughing, and we find ourselves running like two fools again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at one of the tables on the upper floor of the establishment, me and the young Gryffindor quietly await our drinks.

He grabs my hands and holds them firmly in his.

' Y/n seriously. Tell me why you were alone at the Boathouse earlier. I'm sure getting some fresh air wasn't the first thing on your mind when you went there. '

' Well... if you want to know everything, while Ominis and I were in the reception room, he started talking about a sensitive subject and...I preferred to leave. Usually I would have had to face it, but at the time I didn't have the strength. ' I say, squeezing one of his hands.

' Sallow, again ? ' My friend asks.

I respond by simply nodding my head. I must admit that he and Sebastian are not the best friends in the world. Yet they rarely spoke to each other. But they have harbored a powerful hatred for each other for a long time, from what Ominis had told me.

' I'm going to be honest with you Y/n. This boy is a real poison. Whether it's for you, for his friends or even for all the other students of Hogwarts. He is toxic and knows it very well, but as he manages to get everything he wants one way or another, it's not a problem for him. Tell me, how many times in the year did he make you cry ? Has he ever apologized for treating you so miserably ? ' Garreth said, a dark glint in his eyes.

' He...he's not a monster, you know ? He just doesn't think about what he does or what he says. He's spontaneous, that's all. But it's not necessarily his fault… ' I said, my voice getting weaker and weaker.

' You see, that's exactly the problem ! You are always looking for excuses for him, so obviously in your subconscious he never does anything wrong ! I know what happened Y/n. I know he killed his uncle. '

When the information reaches my brain, I can no longer move. How is it possible ?! No one else besides Ominis and Anne knows about this !

' How's that... '

I try to articulate a few words, but Garreth immediately stops me by putting his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet. Sirona Ryan arrives at our table and places two mugs of butterbeer on it.

' These are for you ! Have a nice evening ! ' She said smiling at us.

I stare at the liquid in front of me, horrified by the revelation the young Gryffindor has just made to me. Then I raise my head in his direction.

The latter smiles as if nothing had happened, it's almost terrifying, and raises his mug to the ceiling to toast.

' To that siren attack ! We wouldn't be here if it hadn't happened. '

[crystalsenergy]

Echoes of Separateness:

Ego, bullying, and the illogical path of the wounded ego #3

(I demand that the person be here, but in reality, I didn't even want that…)

Parts 1 and 2 previously posted.

Notice that all extremely controlling people are, deep down, extremely insecure.

All insensitive people, deep down, have a tremendous grudge against sensitivity.

Paty, and how much of this can be brought to light now, by the person themselves, in order for this to be transmuted, cared for?

Darlings, it only depends on them and their will…

It is important to practice this perspective because it gradually frees us from 2 things:

feeling that you are wrong for following the opposite path, it takes you out of this process of wanting the approval of the other who so much wants to lead you to the path of control, the fear of being judged, the path of the wounded ego…

it also helps you work on anger because you start to see that this person is so, so deeply hurt.

And an important observation! To the empaths and sweethearts of my heart, don't fall into the trap of wanting to save such people. No one saves anyone, right?

We give each other a hand… we help each other, but we don't save.

The process of overcoming any negative issue must be personal, the help, the support, the comfort, should exist when we really feel comfortable with it and when the other ACCEPTS!

In summary: when they really want to change.

Unfortunately, many people are trapped in the illusion of momentary pleasure. Wounded ego, very hurt for not feeling capable, secure. But every day the person seeks their group that makes this feeling of fear of judgment, fear of exclusion disappear for a few moments… but it's not something secure and constructive. It was built on unsound and unhealthy foundations. It is temporary and superficial.

It is never too late to seek care for these issues.

The opportunities have never been greater than they are today, through this text that brings you to a state of reflection and/or discomfort; through various supports that exist out there…

Meditations for greater inner contact, including very spiritual channeled meditations, therapeutic techniques, holistic therapies, high-vibration musical frequencies available, and sooo much knowledge being channeled and brought to light.

From schools to politics, From family gatherings to religious meetings, From friendships to the workplace…. In all these places, we always play a role.

What has been your role? To exclude, to include, or to "sit on the fence"? haha.

This "sitting on the fence" can be one of the most dangerous paths, depending on the case.

Inserting oneself into a process of unconsciousness and "ignorance is bliss," when in reality, you know well what is going on around you, you just don't want to lose the approval of others, is, in the end, a fear of judgment too.

I BELIEVE in a world with more inclusion and social justice, starting with us!

Because every politician (the ones who influence us the most, on national and global levels) was once a student, "simply a citizen," and the distorted biases, the non-inclusive ideas that many who hold political positions share, we also share.

They are not the only ones who need to evolve haha.

Internal work reverberates externally!

Don't rush, but if possible, start yours today.

[rollercoasterwords]

porn anon again (a sentence I never thought i’d write). I see now that I worded that question badly, I was really just referring to pornhub / other porn streaming platforms. I agree with you for the most part, but for a lot of women it feels like our business too, not just that of sex workers. I will never shame sex workers, but being sexually active with a generation of boys who have grown up watching videos involving beating / assaulting women and being led to believe that those are normal things to be getting off to is incredibly scary. Yes, those things will always be available on the internet, I think the problem is that it’s being celebrated as sexual liberation for women when a lot of the time it is quite literally the opposite. When I think about the damage of porn as a whole, while I do care for the safety of sex workers, I’m mostly thinking about the overall normalization of abusing women during sex and wrapping it up in a pretty little package labeled ‘kinky’. With that all being said, my reading on the opposing argument is much more limited and my opinions might change after looking further into it.

lol hello again sorry it took me a bit to get back to this i wanted to make sure i was giving a response proper time! i understand where ur coming from + honestly i used to think pretty similarly to what ur describing here, so i'm gonna go through what ur saying line by line + try to ask some questions that shifted my own perspective on this subject [v long post + potential tws so putting a cut]

i was really just referring to pornhub / other porn streaming platforms

i figured this was probably what you had in mind, but i want to reiterate that it's important to be specific about what we're criticizing if we want to make a critique. even here, grouping together "pornhub/other porn streaming platforms" is a very broad category that is not necessarily going to be best served by a uniform approach to critique. in terms of my personal feelings about pornhub, i'm not a fan for the same reason that i'm not a fan of any large corporation that can only exist + profit through exploitative labor practices. in terms of other porn streaming platforms, i simply don't know enough to give you a specific answer about my personal feelings, and i'm not sure that every platform operates in a similar enough way that i'd have the same critique for each one.

I agree with you for the most part, but for a lot of women it feels like our business too, not just that of sex workers.

nobody is saying sex work isn't your business--in fact, i think that everyone should support sex workers' rights and activism. however, if what you're getting at here is the idea that everyone, and not just sex workers, should be given equal voice on these issues, then i disagree. i think that sex workers themselves are best equipped to speak about what will make their lives safer and more equitable, and we should prioritize listening to them if our goal is to make sex work safer.

I will never shame sex workers, but being sexually active with a generation of boys who have grown up watching videos involving beating / assaulting women and being led to believe that those are normal things to be getting off to is incredibly scary.

there's a lot to unpack here! first, to your point that "i will never shame sex workers"--i would really, really encourage you to read that book i recommended in my previous response. i understand that this is a well-intended sentiment, but the idea that you can be vocally anti-porn without shaming sex workers simply doesn't ring true to me. if you believe that porn, as a whole (even if you're qualifying it as "the porn industry" or telling yourself that maybe there are some kinds of porn that might be okay, but most of it is bad), is so exploitative that our political goal must be its elimination or increased policing of its production (the typical goals of anti-porn lobbying), then that leaves sex workers in one of two categories: either they are abject, voiceless victims with no agency in their own exploitation whom we should pity, or they are willfully complicit in their own exploitation and harming themselves + others by participating in a corrupt line of work. even if this is not explicitly stated, it is the effect that comes through, and it contributes to the shame + stigma surrounding sex work. melissa gira grant summarizes it thus: "They [sex workers] are at once blamed for contributing to the objectification of women through being objectified themselves and, through their occupation, for sexualizing all women, and for profit."

and then, to the second part of what you're saying here--the idea that porn normalizes sexual violence against women. this is the crux of many anti-porn campaigners' arguments, and i understand how it can feel like a very intuitive conclusion. but i want to challenge what you're saying here a bit, so bear with me.

first off--sexual violence does not stem from porn. it has always existed, regardless of what kind of porn is available or being produced + disseminated. there's really no way to try and 'objectively' measure whether sexual violence has increased in correlation to the proliferation of easily-accesible hardcore porn, and even if there was it would be even more difficult to move past simple correlation and somehow prove direct causation.

personally, i don't find it compelling to argue that getting off to violent porn can directly cause people to become sexually violent, for a few reasons. one is that i think there is an important difference in representation and fantasy versus real life--many people get off to things that they would not actually want to participate in or do, so to argue that violent porn has some sweeping power of mythic proportions to turn young boys and men into sexually violent predators seems reactionary to me. i also don't think sexual violence is about getting off; sexual violence is a means of establishing power. this is a pretty central tenet of addressing rape culture--for example, the idea that it doesn't matter what someone looks like or what they're wearing because people don't commit sexual violence just because they're overcome with lust.

porn also isn't created in a vaccuum; if we're concerned with what sort of depictions appear in porn, it doesn't make sense to me that the response to that is a crackdown trying to eliminate pornography (which almost always has the material impact of making life more unsafe for sex workers)--i think it makes more sense to turn our activism to other sites of cultural production where the attitudes underlying potentially concerning depictions grow from. like; if we're concerned that easy access to violent porn will make young boys think this is the standard (not a fan of 'normal' as a qualifier) way to have sex + base their expectations around such depictions, then it seems to me that rather than trying to ban violent porn it would be more effective and useful to advocate for increased sex education and more portrayals of varying types of sex + sexuality, to encourage the idea that there are many ways to have sex and the most important thing is to make sure you're communicating with your partner(s) + respecting their boundaries.

Yes, those things will always be available on the internet, I think the problem is that it’s being celebrated as sexual liberation for women when a lot of the time it is quite literally the opposite.

i'm assuming that the "it" you're referring to here is violent sex/s&m, but it could also be sex work/making porn, so i'm going to respond to both.

first - regarding the idea that becoming a sex worker is celebrated as sexual liberation. i think this is perhaps a skewed view of what's actually happening in broader culture, and i would encourage you to think about why you hold this view--what sources is it coming from? what specifically has given you that impression? because broadly speaking, sex work is still very much stigmatized, and many sex workers are completely realistic about this stigmatization and the fact that sex work is work, and deciding whether it's something you want to/have to do isn't a simple decision. i know there's this idea that a handful of sex workers talking about how much money they make online is like...influencing young girls to think that sex work is 'empowering,' but in reality that is only a handful of people--many of them young women themselves, who i don't think should be villified for wanting to portray their jobs as glamorous when they are heavily stigmatized by wider society. if there actually are large numbers of young people being coercively persuaded to become sex workers when they otherwise wouldn't, then the primary conditions of coercion there are economic and would be best addressed with anticapitalist politics, not antiporn politics (which, again, will likely only serve to further stigmatize + endanger sex workers!).

regarding the idea that s&m is celebrated as sexual liberation--again, i don't know how broadly this applies. there are still certainly many voices that decry sex + especially kinky sex as shameful and degrading, even if there are also voices claiming that it is unilaterally empowering. and even to the extent that someone claims getting choked during sex is feminist or whatever, the issue i'd take there is not the actual act itself--i think rough/violent/kinky sex is morally neutral, and there's nothing wrong with enjoying it--but rather the terms in which we are framing 'empowerment.' any argument that feeling personally good translates to broader 'empowerment' under patriarchy is a flawed premise to me, as i'm more concerned with focusing on 'empowerment' in terms of material conditions. it's the same issue i take with people who call wearing makeup 'empowering' or seeing a depiction of 'female rage' in movies 'empowering'--which is that simply feeling good is not a feminist action. when it comes to rough sex/s&m, i don't think it's helpful either to act as though such acts are inherently degrading or inherently liberatory. instead, i think we should just encourage people to explore whatever kinds of sex they want to explore without assigning moral weight to specific sex acts.

When I think about the damage of porn as a whole, while I do care for the safety of sex workers, I’m mostly thinking about the overall normalization of abusing women during sex and wrapping it up in a pretty little package labeled ‘kinky’.

gonna just point back to/echo a lot of the stuff i've already said--first off, "porn as a whole" is doing a lot of work here and sort of saying the quiet part out loud; despite clarifying at the beginning of your message that you mean pornhub + streaming sites, we've now come back to the idea that all porn is bad. i would really challenge you to ask yourself whether this is something you actually believe, and if it's not, why you're defaulting to this position. if you care for the safety of sex workers, then you must understand that the history of antiporn activism is one of increased policing + danger for sex workers, not making them safer. the idea that porn is responsible for normalizing sexual violence against women is something i already talked about, so i won't repeat myself at length--but again, i'd emphasize here that i don't think just getting rid of porn is a feasible or even useful political response to sexual violence. and i am wary of the conflation here between abuse and kink; people who participate in consenual s&m are not inherently abusive, and plenty of 'vanilla' sex acts can be abusive or part of sexual violence.

With that all being said, my reading on the opposing argument is much more limited and my opinions might change after looking further into it.

i would really, really encourage you to read melissa gira grant's 'playing the whore' and try to branch out a bit in terms of your thinking on this subject! again, i used to think similarly to you and i understand that a lot of antiporn arguments feel very intuitive, but it's important when developing a politics to focus not on whether that politics feels like it makes sense, but the actual, material impact that it has. and the material impact of antiporn politics has been, by and large, not the prevention of sexual violence, but increased danger + stigma for sex workers.

[toad-bread]

↳ That boy is mine༉‧₊˚✧

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Heeseung, Jay, Soobin (Enhypen/Txt)

📍Angst to fluff content….kinda….? You’ll see when you read it. I’m planing to make it a mini series(?) Female reader

Wc: 964

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩Heeseung✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙·͙

“You sure got the guts to confess to Heeseung first, right?” 

A beautiful woman stood before you with a smirk on her face while twirling her blonde hair with her index finger. Lifting your head up from your phone you raised your eyebrows. “Uh, what were you saying?” The smirk plastered on her face quickly got wiped off. “You have no right to be with Heeseung, he is wayyyyyy out of your league. Besides, look at me, I’m a better version of you.” Now furrowing your brows you roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever you say.” The woman was fuming in front of you and raised her hand to slap you, closing your eyes to feel the impact, but no contact was made. Opening your eyes you saw a figure blocking your way. You immediately knew who that person was. 

“What makes you think you can slap my partner, hm?” Heeseung sneered at the woman while holding her arm. “Hee! She doesn’t deserve you-” “You have no right to call me that. I would never pick you ever so don’t even try to compete with my partner.” Heeseung dropped the woman's arm and turned around to see you smiling up at him. “Baby! You’re finally here.” You wrap your arms around his torso while suffocating yourself with his scent. Heeseung chuckled and wrapped his arms around your body. “Don’t let anyone tell you that they are better than you when you know that I’ll pick you out of everyone.” Nodding at him you smiled while basking in his warmth from his body. “Wanna get ramen?” You questioned. “Sure, my sweet baby.”

 ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩Jay✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

You both were staring at the woman yelling at you. Scrunching your nose from the noise she was causing was making you have a headache, which Jay noticed. Trying to politely decline her huge confession for him and trying to stop her from talking bad about you made her start yelling even more. “I swear, Jay is not fit for you! You're a disgusting and ugly person while I’m the total opposite! Honey why’d don’t cha  pick me!” She slurred from how drunk she was and made you gag at her state. “Listen, he is not  interested in you, leave us alone-” “No! You brat- you have absolutely no right to talk to me like that!” She roared at you, grabbing her drink and threw it at you. Gasping from the coldness from the drink you looked up at her to yell at her back. “You are absolutely wrong to think I will let you talk bad about me. Jay is mine and you are being a nuisance to everyone in this party with your tantrum. The only thing I can’t compete with is your bratty attitude, I suggest you leave or else I’m going to use force on you.” Huffing from the loudness from the music and the sticky feeling of your clothes made you want to punch her. A hand filled with paper towels gently pat the splotch on your top was seen while Jay started cooing at you how you did a great job. Jay teared his gaze away from you to glare at the woman. “Leave.” The woman widened her eyes and ran away from you both from utter fear from Jay. “Let’s clean you up and we can leave this party.” You smiled at him, blinking your eyes. “Can we get ice cream on the way home?” You pleaded while holding his arm. “....fine.”

 ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩Soobin✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

Walking through the halls you came across a room where Soobin was practicing his dancing. Smiling at the image of Soobin running to you immediately got wiped out when you opened the door to a woman holding his arm while bashing her eyelashes at him. Basically flirting with him, in front of you. Walking in the room, Soobin noticed you and tried to shrug her off but to no avail, she was stuck on him while smirking at you. “Oh. I didn’t notice you came in here. Me and Soobin were having the best time with each other, right?” Soobin laughed nervously and shrugged her off this time. “I guess, but you were in the way. Anyway, baby! You’ve arrived, I was going to show you my choreography.” Soobin started walking towards you until an arm pulled him back. Soobin gasped and glared at the woman who grabbed him. “What! You can’t go yet we still have so much to- uh, learn!” She stuttered while trying to find excuses to be with Soobin. Having enough of her excuses, you grabbed Soobin’s hand and pulled him towards you. “Yeah, you can try to find more excuses while both of us are leaving.” You quickly replied. Soobin nodded and walked out of the room with a smile on his face. “Were you jealous?” You whipped your head towards Soobin and let go of his hand. “Of course I was! She was basically up on you and I couldn’t let her do that. Geez, she needs to understand boundaries. Maybe I should go back to teach her a-” “Woah, let me stop you there. I’m sorry, thank you for saving me. She was practically growing on me.” Soobin laughed while taking your hand back with his. “Ugh, let me go back to smack her back to life.” “No. We can do activities together rather than teaching her a lesson. Besides, I still need to show you my dance.” Huffing at Soobin you pecked his lips while smiling at him softly. “I’ll let her off the hook this time. But if I see her again I will not hesitate to fight her.” Soobin could only sigh while you were smiling creepily about planning many scenarios to slap her face. Is she really the girl I fell in love with? He thought.

[secretariatess]

Kylin 52

            While waiting for the Crown Prince to return, Morganne started pulling out salves and ointments for Selim, explaining to the queen what each one did and how it would help Selim last until the antidote to the treatment could be made.  Kylin only half listened, seething in the knowledge that he had forgotten that coming here meant going face to face with the man who had chased Amelia and attempted to arrest her on Fanger grounds.  It was apparent they trusted each other as far as they could throw, which only served to fuel Kylin’s dislike of the Crown Prince.

            The Prince came back, something in his face tenser than before.  He handed Morganne the vials of the doses, Kylin making sure he did not get too close.  Morganne thanked him and then proceeded to inspect them carefully.  An uncomfortable silence filled the void, no one particularly eager to start on small talk while Morganne was working.

            When she finished viewing them in the sun, Morganne settled herself at the nearby desk and cleared a large space for herself, pulling more things out of her skirts that would help her test the doses.  The prince raised his eyebrows at the amount she was able to hide away, but made no comment.

            Selim’s room was the opposite of organized.  Various decks of cards were on just about every available surface. The mantle above the fireplace was lined with objects arranged in no discernable manner.  Books that Kylin would never have expected a prince of Harlofelp to have -such as books claiming to contain the religious practices of a northern Elven kingdom or collections of songs from the other side of the mountain range, or even books suggesting they taught gambling games- were given as much priority as the cards.  The only thing in the room that had been properly put away were the books regarding education, all neatly arranged on a very dusty bookshelf.

            Kylin cast a look over the books Selim had clearly been reading, wondering if he would get a chance to read them himself, when the queen and Crown Prince weren’t present to pass judgment for touching objects in the room.  He was curious to see what exactly Selim had learned in these books and suspected it may have influenced his desire in joining the Rangers.

            “Right,” Morganne said abruptly, causing everyone to be jolted from their thoughts.  She stood up, oblivious to this.  “It is fairly straight forward. These two doses should be his last- I’m fairly certain I’ll have the counter in the morning. It will take time, but the damage can be undone. For the time being, I would like to be taken to where I’ll be staying so I can start working on it.”

            “Our healer has a place where you can prepare,” the queen began.

            Morganne opened her mouth to politely object, but the Crown Prince spoke before she could utter a sound.

            “No, that will not be necessary,” he said.

            The queen looked at him, puzzled.

            “I appreciate the offer, madam,” Morganne said, “but I would prefer to have it close by. Potion making is very precise, and if someone accidentally puts something innocuous as even a hair in, it can lead to disastrous results. I prefer to have a close eye on these things.”

            The queen nodded, her confusion lessening some.

            The Crown Prince gestured them to the door.  “I can take you to your rooms.”

            Morganne thanked him, shoving everything back into her pockets before heading out.  Kylin followed closely behind.  As the Prince took the lead, Morganne told Kylin a low voice, ensuring only he would hear her, “My biggest concern is that we got the clean version.”

            Kylin bit the inside of his lip.  He could understand why Morganne didn’t want to say it aloud- there was no telling how much the royal family knew, and how receptive the accusation of not getting the actual concoction Selim was given would go.

            Nothing else was said on the way over, though Kylin suspected there were a couple of times the Prince wanted to bring something p.

            When they arrived in the guest hallway, they were greeted by Ofjaet.  He exchanged pleasantries with the Prince before the latter took his leave.  The Diplomat then turned his attention to Kylin and Morganne.

            “We have brought your packs to your room, Morganne,” he told her.  “Including the apprentice equipment. What is your evaluation of the situation?”

            “If it is as clear cur as I’m supposed to believe,” Morganne said, “it is fixable. The healer is old-fashioned and whoever Kendra said is trying to kill Selim is banking on htat. However, I suspect there’s something else. The queen said the healer is treating it aggressively, but even then, Selim is deteriorating much more quickly than the treatment should allow.”

            “What is he being treated for?”

            Morganne gave a look of absolute disgust.  “The mere memory of the claim made Kylin’s blood begin to boil.  The audacity of accusing Amelia of being capable of that . . .

            “They were told he had been sealed under the obsession potion,” she said, her lip curling.  “The healer was ‘unsealing’ it.”

            Ofjaet pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.  Then took a deep breath, cleared his expression, and said, “I see. I trust it has been cleared up?”

            “I would hope so,” Kylin interjected with a hint of ice.

            “If it has not, then I will ensure the matter is settled before we make our journey home,” Ofjaet assured them.

            Morganne let out an irritated sigh.  “I should get started. Kylin, I will come for you when I return for Selim’s dose.”

            Kylin nodded an she left.  Ofjaet showed him where he would be staying at night, making a joke about not getting too used to it.

            The room was quite spacious, perhaps the size of Amelia’s entire cottage.  There were a couple of writing desks, a few small tables that seemed more decorative than useful, a window with a view of the city, and two large beds.  One of the beds was already occupied by Preman.  His equipment had been unloaded onto a nearby chair and he was spreadeagle, face down, on his selected bed nearest the window.  After heard the click of the door, he called out in a muffled voice, “Kylin?”

            Kylin slowly approached, wondering if his companion needed help.

            “Yes?”

            “Kylin, try the bed,” Preman said, not lifting his head.  “But be wanred you may never get up again.”

            Kylin glanced at the second bed.  It mismatched him greatly- the bedclothes were finely woven, with golden designs wrapping into looping patterns across it.  The pillows were neatly hidden under the decorative duvet, melding their form into the mattress.  Like Selim’s, the mattress was held by an ornately carved bed frame with four posters -though simpler to denote the difference of status-, with curtains to close around the bed.  The red shade of the curtains matched the duvet.  There was nothing about it that expected the likes of a rugged, travel-worn Ranger.

            Slowly, he lowered himself onto the bed as though half-expecting it to reject him.

            It was made to capture prisoners and entice them into an eternal deep sleep.  And after many nights of getting comfortable on the ground and simple mattresses of straw, this mattress was nothing but sympathetic to the discomfort he never realized he suffered.  It told him there was nothing he would like more than to lie down and just nap a little.  After all, it would be a while before Morganne needed him again.

            With that thought, he stood back up quickly.  That was a trap.  The moment he fell asleep would be the moment he would not get up again.  He needed to stay alert.  The soft touch of the duvet and cushion of the mattress could not be trusted.

            Preman lifted his head at the sudden movement.

            “Is there a problem?” he half-mumbled.

            “I cannot see myself sleeping in that,” Kylin answered stiffly.

            “Suit yourself.”  Preman dropped his head to enjoy his luxury.

            Unused to having nothing to do, not even having to keep an ear out for danger, Kylin began to wander around the room, opening drawers and doors to see what else it contained.  However, it proved to be as boring as it was fancy.  There was nothing of interest beyond his own things, which had been brought up from the stables.  While he checked to make sure nothing was missing, he wondered how the stable boys fared with Vicious.  He didn’t doubt for a second that she was giving them all sorts of issues.

            At midday, a lunch was provided for them in an extravagantly decorated dining room.  The crown princess waited for them at the head of the table.  Just like the bed, the food was tantalizing, looking too good for there not to be a trap somewhere.

            Taileia sat on the crown princess’s right, while Ofjaet sat opposite Taileia.  The others were left to sit as they saw fit, barring the side opposite the princess.

            Kylin had never met a princess before, but Princess Rovyna almost perfectly matched what he would have expected of a woman inheriting the throne.  She kept herself carefully poised, a diplomatic smile on her face, and not hair on her head our of place.  She was clothed in elaborate garments, in fabrics that the Veil would never think of seeing, sewn in the latest fashion of the city.  She greeted them all cordially, ensuring her guests felt welcome.

            “I hope everything is suitable,” the princess said, settling herself in her seat when her guests were seated themselves.

            “We can hardly complain with the quality of hospitality,” Taileia answered.  “We certainly have nothing to compare it to.

            “And I have nothing to give myself an image of the Veil, nor anything to compare a taste of what it is like,” the princess said.  “My life has been spent in walls much like this, with only windows and paintings of farther places. Perhaps you could indulge me and tell me what the Veil Forest is like?”

            Her eyes were lit up with curiosity, readying to be amazed at all they had to tell her.

            Ofjaet smiled at her.  “Your highness, that is a vague question. One part of the forest will not be the same as another. Do you ask of scenery? Of the dangers? Of the benefits? I do wish to answer your question, but I would like to know what it is you seek.”

            The princess shifted her attention to Ofjaet, but Kylin had a sense she was watching the rest of them out of the corner of her eye.

            Still listening, Kylin turned his own attention to the food on his plate, searching for something that seemed most familiar to him to try first.

            “I understand that to become a Ranger, you must cast off any loyalty or citizenship to any other nation or kingdom,” the princess said.  “If that is so, then there must be a reason you cast it aside to live in an uncivilized and untamed forest.”

            “There are as many reasons as there are Rangers,” Ofjaet replied, smile still in place.  “Some do not join the Rangers for the forest, but as means of escape, taking up more domestic work after apprenticeship. Or their means of escape is for a change of authority. Still others join because they are drawn to protecting and maintaining the forest and its contents. I myself was drawn to the dryads and naiads of the forest. They are blessed with such a carefree outlook on life and in many ways are childlike, though they are often older than our ages combined, and may live beyond us.”

            The princess leaned back in her chair.  “Really?” she breathed.  She looked at the rest of them.  “I presume you have different reasons yourselves?”

            There was a pause in which quick glances were cast to Ofjaet to determine if offering such information was deemed acceptable to share.  Ofjaet indicating no objection, Morganne answered next.

            “Both of my parents were Rangers, madam,” Morganne explained.  “Having no other experience and plenty of evidence to discourage village life, continuing in their footsteps was the logical route to take.”

            “The Rangers permit marriage?”

            “Most certainly,” Ofjaet said.  He gestured to Taileia.  “She is my wife. Childrearing has been a more unique challenge than for those marriages where only one is a Ranger, or neither are. However, being a Ranger is often a lifetime commitment, and the experiences of what life offers us are not denied us.”

            As intriguing as the information was to her, the princess was not wholly distracted from her original question.

            “Has the parental influence of being a Ranger impacted any of you?” she asked, gesturing to Preman and Kylin.

            Preman gave a humorless laugh.  “My father was a soldier. If he influenced me any, it was to steer me away from being like him. Rather, I joined for I had no family eft, and the Randers had always treated me with kindness.”

            Making a comment of acknowledgment, the princess eyes slid from Preman to Kylin.

            Up to this point, Kylin had been happy to be an onlooker, taking small bites of what was on his plate and debating whether or not it was better than what he would eat in the Veil.  Overall, the food was enjoyable, though rich, not needing too large a portion to satisfy him. However, he could not see himself eating this every day for the rest of his life.

            An opinion, though, that was not waited for.

            Realizing she wouldn’t ignore him, he answered with a note of finality so she would not expect more from him, “The forest’s bestiary is what intrigued me.”

            The princess’s eyes lingered on him before going to Taileia, who deflected with a question of her own.

            “With such interest in the Veil, perhaps you will visit yourself and discover what we love firsthand?”

            The princess smiled warmly.  “I should like to one day, I think,” she replied.  “Perhaps when the matter with Prince Selim is settled, though. After all, there still is the matter of kidnapping.”

            There was a shift in the air, a breath of tension.

            “What part do you expect us to have in that?” Taileia asked, leaning forward.  Her expression was innocent, unaccusatory.

            “No more than you are responsible for,” the princess answered calmly.  “However, a felony was committed, and I am not one to go gallivanting about when I have responsibilities to attend to.”

            “And admirable trait,” Taileia responded.  “A country can respect a queen-to-be who remains true to her responsibilities. Especially when other leaders neglect them for other matters.”

            The princess tilted her head, still smiling.  “Is there one that you know of?”

            The name of the current king was at the front of everyone’s mind.  Even the princess knew it.  But to be so bold as to accuse her father-in0law in her home was not wise, to say the least.

            “Plenty,” Taelia said.  “But what good is my opinion that you would want more than that?”

            “The women studied each other carefully, searching for hidden meaning in their words.

            “Well, we are grateful for your assistance with the prince all the same,” the princess said finally.  “And we are quite thankful, though surprised, that you arrived so quickly. We did not realize you had received our message so soon.”

            “You sought our help.”  It was neither a statement nor a question.  It was just something flatly said, an attempt to remove surprise from her tone.

            A surprise the princess caught and noted.  “Of course. We felt if there was anyone who could help, it would be you.”

            Kylin exchanged a glance with Morganne.  Kendra had made it seem as though the royal family did not know about the assassin.  Yet if their help was sought out, did it not stand to reason they suspected something?

            Ofjaet cleared his throat.  “I am surprised that you thought highly enough of our healing prowess to overcome the prejudice and invite us to help.”

            “No one else would be so bold as to defy the royal healer’s diagnosis and treatment,” the princess explained.  “The last one who was is no longer welcome here.             There was an uncomfortable silence.  Less because of the remark made of Amelia, but more of the princess’s reference to the royal healer.

            Kylin resisted the urge to look at Morganne again, to catch a glimpse of her reaction.  He knew that the princess would see it and judge it.

            “It is true that we are more willing,” Ofjaet agreed.  “We do not have to deal with the social repercussions. The solders in the Veil will never think highly of us, and the villagers put more weight and trust in their own healers.”

            “I see.”  Her tone made it clear that the silence had not slipped by her.  “So you received no message from us, yet you are here?”

            “We knew the prince was ailing,” Ofjaet said.  Adding firmly, “And we wished to ensure that no ill will would be held against us for it.”

            They regarded each other carefully, yet keeping in place their cordial expressions.

            Oh so thankfully, the princess moved on from the topic, returning to something a lot more acceptable, such as Ofjaet’s dealings with dryads.

            After lunch, Morganne laid our her expectations and plans regarding Selim’s care.  Though there would already be a guard watching him, Morganne stated she would be more comfortable if one of their own watched Selim, especially when she wasn’t there to keep an eye on his symptoms herself.  When she went to administer his next dose, she took Preman with her, putting Kylin on the second watch of the night.

            Still distrusting trap known as the bed, Kylin pulled the bedclothes off and made a nest by the fire.  Then he settled in to get some sleep before his shift.

[casspurrjoybell-30]

Cry Me a River - Chapter 35 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Surprise, surprise

My heart beat practically out my chest as I attempted to lift myself up with my arms.

I struggled, swinging my feet in an attempt of gaining momentum but to no avail I remained in the same place, huffing and puffing away.

I let out a frustrated whine at my lack of strength.

Just as I did so, I heard the door creak open, a red-headed woman's face peeked out, widening considerably as she took in my flailing form.

"Martha," she yelled behind her.

Another appeared behind her as the yelling girl pointed in my direction.

Her eyes widened as well as she hurried out, ushering the other girl behind her as they both pulled me up from the jagged rock.

I whimpered slightly as my leg scraped against a rock as they set me on my knees.

"Are you okay?" the redhead questioned, her voice raising as she looked me up and down, trying to find any signs of a wound.

"Yes," I managed as I bit my lip.

"Let me see," the darker haired girl pushed the redhead out of the way as her eyes locked on my knee.

"Ah, we'll put some cream on that. Come."

She got up, reaching a hand to me and pulling me up as she ushered me inside.

She sat me down and took out a wooden box of equipment.

I remained silent, allowing her to clean my knee as I peered around.

Hoping to catch sight of Anna but none of the women seemed to even slightly resemble her.

"Looking for someone?" the redhead asked as the darker haired of the two finished bandaging me.

"Ah, yes. I was told my friend is staying here."

I kept my voice at a higher octave.

"Your friend, huh?" the darker haired girl spoke.

"Is she a helper? Cleaner? Cook? Healer?"

"Umm, a patient."

"Do you remember what her injuries were? That's usually how we distinguish patients here," the redhead spoke.

"I-I don't k-know," I swallowed.

"I-I heard a crack and then she was on the floor and..." I shivered.

"Hmm, a crack? A broken bone..." the dark haired girl spoke.

"Come, we keep broken-boned patients in a separate room."

She waved her hand at me to follow before she turned toward the redheaded girl.

"I'll help her. Go help Betsy in the kitchen."

The girl nodded and set off in the opposite direction.

I followed after the other as she led me past candle lit rooms, each containing at least ten girls in each.

All were placed on white mats, whimpering as women with one clothes dabbed at their foreheads.

I turned my head as I paled.

I had never been in a hospital room before and being surrounded by all the strange herbal scents and pain-filled grunts of the patients was starting to make my head spin.

The woman pushed past a stained tapestry as she led me into another room.

It was no different than the others.

Same strange smell and pain-filled eyes.

"Do you recognize any as your friend?" she asked.

I peered around, eyes lighting up as I locked on a familiar head of dark curls sitting on a white mat.

"Anna," I squeaked as I rushed across the room.

She jumped slightly as she turned in my direction.

"River?" she breathed as her eyes locked with mine.

I wrapped my arms around her as I began tearing up.

"Oh Goddess, Anna," I sniffed.

"I was so afraid. So so afraid. I thought..." I choked.

"Shh," she cooed, pushing my hair from my tear-stained face.

"Where have you been?"

She bent down to whisper in my ear.

"Where are we?"

I rubbed at my eyes as I bent down to sit next to her on the small, white mat.

"Do you remember the small boy from the alley way?"

She nodded.

"He took me to his room..."

Her eyes widened.

"He raped you?" she whisper-yelled.

"No."

Everyone in the room turned in my direction with raised brows.

I cleared my throat, lowering my volume.

"No, we just slept. There was a blond man that was there too. I think..." I stopped for a second.

"I think they may be together."

"The little boy with a grown man?" she gasped as her mouth widened in shock.

"I mean, they didn't do anything but... I just felt it. The way they looked at one another."

"A grown man with a boy so young?"

She shook her head in distraught.

"Disgusting," she hissed and made a show of scrunching her nose up.

"Well, he's not really ten," I tried to explain as she raised a brow.

"I mean, his body is but he claims he's much older."

I widened my arms.

"Really now?" she scoffed.

I couldn't blame her for not believing me.

I didn't believe it either at first.

Even now, I was still trying to rationalize his words.

"Excuse me," I turned to the dark haired girl from before.

"But I'm afraid you're going to have to leave the room soon. We're going to be serving breakfast in a half an hour and we prefer for patients and visitors to eat in separate rooms. For sanitary reasons."

I nodded.

"Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

Her brows pulled up in surprise.

"Are you offering to help?"

I laughed.

"If that's alright."

"Of course it is."

She raised her arms in excitement.

"Oh, Betsy will be so excited to have more helping hands in there. The kitchen is always so crazy before mealtime. Not enough help, y'know?"

I nodded but I didn't.

I waved at Anna as I was dragged from the room.

"Oof."

I peered up wide-eyed as I was pushed into a small room, women stood around stoves, clothes specked with food and sauces.

"Betsy, I've got you another helper," the dark haired girl yelled.

I was almost tempted to cover my ears but that would have been rude.

A short, white-haired women peeked out from one of the stoves, a widened smile stretching her wrinkled face as she took me in.

Oh, thank the Goddess."

I laughed at that.

"We need help the soup. Do you know how to make vegetable soup?"

I nodded.

"Great," she exclaimed as she ushered me in front of a stove, placing a pot and ladle in front of me,.

"You're a doll. The vegetables and spices are in the cabinets on top of you. Make sure it's a big enough serving for ten, you'll be cooking for the bone room."

With that, she patted me on the back and scurried back to what she was doing.

I blinked, peering down at the large pot.

'Well, nice to meet you too. I suppose.'

I opened up the cabinet and peered through the vegetables, taking what I needed and skimming through the unfamiliar spices.

I took and deep breath and went to work.

I lit the fire and began boiling up the water as I began cutting up the vegetables into thin slices.

I poured some of the spices into the water as it boiled, dropping in some vegetables as well as I began peeling some potatoes.

I felt a small smile begin to paint across my face as I was immediately engulfed in a wave of sweet spices and cooking vegetables.

'Aah, how I missed this. The smells... the experimenting. Perhaps I should try cooking for Alastair. It may not be as good as his cooks' food but...'

I felt a wave of pain rush through my chest.

I hissed, hands clenching against my shirt.

I took shallow breaths as I continued cutting and slicing.

You will see him again. You will see him again.

I wiped at my eyes, sniffling slightly as I took a sip of the soup.

I hummed appreciatively.

"Dinner time," a woman screamed, women began rushing out of the room, food in hand.

I peered down at my pot.

There was no way I was going to be able to carry that out alone.

"Do you need help?" a voice called behind me.

I turned and gasped almost falling to the floor as my eyes locked on a familiar dirty blonde.

"Alice?" I breathed.

[inslo]

Updates both good and bad….

Adult summer camp was a B.L.A.S.T!!!  I haven’t had so much fun, felt so good, and made so many new friends in years!  I went in with no expectations, and any expectations I may have had were far exceeded.  Despite alcohol being available nearly 24/7, (camp was only 4 days) no one got so drunk they were puking on the side of the road or passing out.  COED cabins were not nearly as much of a problem as I thought, in fact my cabin had 12 beds (9 in front and 3 in back separated by a wall and a door and separate exterior entrances) and 3 guys and 9 girls, so that was a fairly easy situation.  However I spoke to another guy who was in more-of-a-coed situation, and the rules were “(1) knock before entering (2) if someone needs to change, the opposite gender steps out.”    Camp consisted of about 75-80% female and 20-25% male, age ranges were mid 20’s to late 60’s with the median age about 41. 

There were so many fun activities. (Sample of Campers Guide above, with activities I attended marked.)  My favorite was the scavenger hunt.  I spent the majority of my time at camp with people who I thought were in their early 30’s but turned out were in their late 20’s, and I was made to feel I fit right in.  (I ended up feeling 15-20 years younger).  The scavenger hunt was done with a group, but  wasn’t about going to find a bug or a leaf, but go to a specific building and have one person in the group film the others walking like a penguin to another building.  Then that video was to be uploaded to a google drive for judging.  Our team made 2nd place overall.  As for other activities, there was trivia, bingo, a number of one-hour classes like (cooking with fire and Herbal Healing 101.)  There was archery, ax-throwing, human battleship, beach volleyball, swimming, and ‘meditation and mamosas’.  There as plenty of good food, there was a camp fire complete with a fully-stocked smores station.  There was the “1989 Camp Homecoming Dance” which was awesome and I let loose on the dance floor which I practically never do.  ��.needless to say, I pre-registered for camp next year, despite not knowing if I will even be able to get the days off or not.  I can’t wait to go again.

On another note, I had a conversation with a good friend about my concerns that I shy away from difficult conversations.  This is really the first conversation I have had with anyone about it.  Needless to say, I feel worse now than I did before.  This friend has been dating someone now for about a 1.5 years and there have been challenges.  In fact they have attended at least one session of counseling together, though the counseling revealed problems on both sides, each realizes it is something they need to work on.  I voiced my concerns about the current person I am dating to my friend, and yeah, we need to have a conversation.  I wish I would have thought about this back 10-15 years ago…or even just a year ago.  I miss ‘Madeline’ and there is no going back with her.   I will have my current date stay over night in the next week or two and see if “she snores like a diesel truck going through all the gears”.  (Yes I used that phrase…and got a laugh or three)  At that time I plan to sit down and have a talk with her.