#which. she's not around anymore. honestly I have mixed feelings about the idea

[neganium]

ugh I don't have sinus pills. I'd even settle for the ones that make me feel kind of ill sometimes on an empty stomach (for no readily apparent reason, either) over nothing, but we don't have any, and we cannot afford them, either.

[coldfanbou]

Be Sure Of It

Here we are with Eunha. In the end, I kept it as only her because I had this idea. Honestly, though, I may use the building mentioned for some other smuts. It would be pretty easy to insert other idols there and just have a universe around it. Also, it was a little tricky to write this because I had to think about whether to refer to Eunha using the stage name versus her real name.

Length 3.2K

Eunha X Mreader

You waited nervously at the restaurant, tapping your fingers on the table as you waited for your date's arrival. You peered out the large windows, hoping to spot her; her profile was on your phone, so you didn’t mistake someone else for her. Then, you saw her across the street, her bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried towards you. Relief washed over you as you recognized her, and she noticed you, too, waving with a bright smile. She walked around the corner, stepped inside, and headed straight toward you. “Hi! I’m Eunbi; sorry for keeping you waiting!” She exclaimed, slightly out of breath, as she sat down and reached over the table to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I was a little worried you wouldn’t show up,” you admit, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't help but wonder if she felt the same way.

“I’d never no-show a date. It’s hard enough to get one with my job.” 

You nod your head, trying to remember what her job was. “It was as a-”

“A health girl,” Eunbi interrupts, “I’m glad you remember,”

“Yeah, I tried to remember everything you had on your profile. I must have gone over it a hundred times before today.” You feel immediate embarrassment as those words leave your mouth, and you hang your head, feeling like you just made a big mistake.

Eunbi laughs, though, “Really? Were you that interested in me?” Looking up, you see Eunbi resting her head on her hand, her cheek squished. 

“Um, yes,” You say quietly, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks as Eunbi's laughter fills the air. You could feel your cheeks turning red, and you were sure she could see it, too.

“Don’t be shy; that makes me pretty happy. I don’t get many matches because of my profession. Those that I do get usually only want one thing. So, what made you interested in me?

“I thought you were cute and saw all the pictures of you cosplaying. I thought it was cool.” You say shyly. 

“Ah! You looked at them?!” The excitement in her voice was evident, “Which one was your favorite?”

“I liked you as Haruko from Slam Dunk,” you reply, pulling up the picture. “I liked your smile; you looked really happy in it.”

Eunbi purses her lips, trying to hide her smile. “Thanks,” she giggles. “No one really likes those old shows anymore, but I think they’re pretty fun.” You and Eunbi spent the date discussing old shows and sharing that interest. It was enjoyable; the two of you enjoyed sharing your thoughts about which shows should be remade and which should remain classics. As your time together came to a close, you ordered an ice cream and headed out the door together. You walked around, continuing your chat until you found yourselves in the city’s central park. 

Eunbi came to a stop, sitting on a nearby bench and waiting for you to sit next to her. “Tonight has been really fun, and I want to go on another date.” She says quietly, her happy energy from earlier fading as she becomes serious. “But are you sure you are okay with dating someone like me? It’s just- I mean, a lot of guys say they’re okay with it, but they really aren’t. They try to get me to quit as soon as we’re together.” It’s clear to you this was something Eunbi had gone through multiple times; the anxiety in her voice and the fact she was staring at the ground the entire time she spoke was enough. “I-I just…”

“Eunbi, I’m okay with it.” You say, placing your hand on hers. Eunbi raises her head, turning to face you. “It must be hard on you, looking for someone, but I’m okay with you having that sort of job. I’ll never make you quit; that’s your decision.” You take a deep breath, “I’d like to take you on another date, Eunbi.”

Eunbi sniffles, and a small smile appears on her face. “Thanks for saying that, but,” she pulls her hand away and reaches into her bag, pulling out a small business card. “I think you should see me at work before you decide if you want to go on another date with me.” Eunbi pushes herself off the bench and stands up. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I had a lot of fun. You know where to find me, " she says softly. 

You rise slowly and walk over to Eunbi with the business card still in hand. “Yes, I do. Thanks for tonight, Eunbi.” You wrap your arms around her and hug her, feeling her arms hesitantly wrap around you before cinching in. After a moment, the two of you break apart and head separate ways for the night.

That night, you looked at the card before going to bed, feeling excited about the next step. You wanted to go on another date with Eunbi, so you had to visit her first. You notice the name change on it; she didn’t use her real name. She used Eunha.

A few nights passed when you decided to visit Eunbi at her workplace.  While the place was open all day, Eunbi worked in the evenings and nights, so that’s when you had to go. It was in the red-light district. You weren’t familiar with it and wandered around, trying to find the place. Neon lights glowed from every building, painting the street with various colors. You continued past the barkers, trying to get you to walk into their establishment. You turn your head, viewing both sides so you won’t have to do another lap. Then you spotted it; it was a large building that took up an entire block. Much like the other buildings in the area, it bathed the street in bright pink neon lights. You cross the street, getting closer, when you notice the women dancing inside, inviting men to enter. They wore revealing outfits, from bunny suits and sexy maids to wedding dresses, with some just in lingerie. The ground level had them separated into their own rooms. You come to a stop, though, as you pass by a crowd; glancing at the window, you see one of the women having sex, fucking like a rabbit in heat with her breasts pressed against the glance. You pry your eyes away and look ahead, noticing she isn’t the only one. Other women in the rooms ahead were also having sex. 

You refocused yourself and continued toward the entrance, heading inside and finding a similar situation, with women in rooms, some dancing and others having sex. On occasion, there would be room blacked out, giving you the hint that some people wanted to be watched. Once down the hall, you found a board of faces—a picture of a woman and their face on it. Some were greyed out, signifying they were with a client. “You have to put money in first, sir.” You hear from behind you. Turning around, you find a staff member sharply dressed in a suit behind the counter. The man repeats himself, pointing to the bottom left of the giant screen. You notice a smaller pad was there to take payment. “If you’d like any information about the ladies before choosing, please feel free to ask me.” 

“Is Eunha here?” You ask nervously. 

The staff member looked down at something before meeting your gaze and responding matter-of-factly, “Yes, she is. She is on the top left-hand side of the board.” You nod and pay for an hour's session before returning to the larger screen and looking for Eunha. You spot her picture at the top and press it, confirming your choice after.

“Good choice, sir. Here is your room key, " the staff member says, pulling out a keycard. “She is on the second floor; once up the stairs, go to the right side at the end of the hall, turn to the left, and she will be at the end of that hall.” The man extends his arm, showing you the staircase. You take the keycard and give the man a nod before heading up the spiral staircase, finding a large lounge with a couple of men sitting idly. You glance at the other two hallways before heading to the right. You feel your heart beat faster as you make the final turn and head to the end of the hall. You stand outside the door and take a deep breath before tapping the keycard and opening it. You step inside and find Eunha waiting on the other side. She’s in a school uniform that’s been cropped and is wrinkled. The skirt, if you could call it that at this point, ended a few inches from the waist. Eunha had on a pair of crotchless panties, and you could see how slick her thighs were with her; there was cum running down her legs. On the top half of her body was an open button-up shirt that she had tied together in a loose knot, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

“Oh! It’s you!” Eunha says with a smile on her face. “You actually came.”

You nod, “I said I would.”

Eunha chuckles, “I guess you did.” You both stand there awkwardly, unable to continue. “Please have a seat.” Eunha moved back to the kingsized bed. She throws herself on it and pats the spot next to her. After sitting beside her, Eunha places her hand on your thigh. “I guess you can see what my last customer did to me,” Eunha says, looking between her legs. “I barely had time to get the room ready again.” She sighs, looking down at the floor and kicking her feet softly. “This is what I meant; I understand if you don’t want to date me. Who would want to have a girlfriend that’s constantly getting fucked by others.” You feel the sadness begin to seep through into her voice. 

You shake your head, “Eunbi, I told you I don’t care. I knew that going into this, I’d have to be okay with you having this job. Look, I know we’ve just been on a single date, but I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

“You mean that?” Eunha asks, her voice wavering. You nod at Eunha and place your other hand on hers. Though small, your action was enough to give Eunha some confidence in you. She sniffles before giving you a bright smile. “I guess we should get started then, right?”  

“I guess so.” Eunha presses her lips against yours, pushing you onto the bed and straddling you. You feel the passion behind the kiss, the corners of her mouth pulled into a smile. She lifts your shirt past your arms and over your head. Eunha was confident in every action. She moved down slowly, raising her ass in the air as she worked at getting your pants down, unbuckling your belt, and unbuttoning your pants. She stares you down as she bites down on the zipper tab and pulls it down. You can see a growing hunger in her eyes as she crawls over you and steals another kiss from you. You feel her hands move down your side as she tries to pull your pants off you.

You help her get them off, along with your underwear. Eunha’s hand grasps your shaft, moving up and down slowly as she meets your gaze. “You’re already nice and hard for me.” She whispers, her grip growing tighter. You see her smile grow as you moan her name. Eunha moves her other hand down, cupping your balls. “These are so big and heavy. I haven’t eaten all day. You have a lot of cum for me, right?” She gives you a pout before moving down your body and pressing her face against your cock, letting the tip rest against her forehead. She kisses the shaft and takes in your scent before wrapping her hand around it again. Eunha shuts her eyes and presses her lips against the base of your cock, inching upward toward the tip. She was moving toward more sensitive areas, and with each kiss, precum leaks from the tip of your cock.

Finally reaching the tip, Eunha opens her eyes again. She smiles at you before pushing the tip against her lips, slowly spreading them and allowing you inside her warm mouth. You feel her tongue run up and down your shaft as she rubs the head against the inside of your cheek. Her hand strokes the base of your cock, ensuring you’re getting the most out of it. She pulls back slowly, letting her saliva drip onto your cock, her tongue sticking out. 

Running her hand up and down your shaft, Eunha spreads her saliva across your cock. “This is going to be good,” she mutters, leaning down and wrapping her lips around your cock. You groan, enjoying as Eunha bobs her head, her tongue running along the underside of your shaft. You rest on your elbows, watching Eunha, noticing as she moves one hand down and fingers herself, occasionally pulling out to rub her clit. You place your hand on her head, earning you a glance from Eunha. She continued, slowly down and taking more of you in. You lean back and groan loudly as you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. 

Eunha pulls back slowly, slobber running down her chin and onto your cock. She slaps herself with it, dirtying herself further. She strokes your cock quickly as she speaks, “You’re so close; I felt your cock twitch. You can cum whenever you want; you don’t even have to warn me. I’ll be able to drink it all up.” Eunha smiles at you before making your cock disappear again. 

You struggle to hold on as her tongue lashes at the tip of your cock. Eventually, you’re forced to cum; you buck your hips upward into Eunha’s mouth and cum inside. She presses her hand against your pelvis, pushing you down as her lips form a seal around your cock, and she drinks every drop. She bobs her head slightly as you cool down from your climax. Eunha slowly comes to a halt and leaves your cock with a pop, “Ahh, that was so good,” She moans, licking her lips. 

Eunha places her hand on your cock, stroking it to get you hard again. “That must’ve felt really good for you; you came a lot.”

“It was amazing,” you groan, her grip tightening as you get hard again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Now it’s time for the best part.” Eunha straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds as she aligns you to her entrance. She reaches forward, grabbing your hands and interlacing her fingers with yours as she lowers herself onto your cock. You slip in easily, her warm and slippery walls snuggly wrapping around your cock as she rests against your pelvis. Eunha’s soft moan fills the room, and you move up her body until you meet Eunha’s gaze. She gives you a soft smile that you can’t help but return. She keeps her hands with yours as she begins to bounce on your cock, soft moans flowing from her lips. Eunha leans against you, your hand holding becoming the only thing keeping her up. You lowered your eyes, noticing the knot that kept her shirt together come loose. Your eyes became glued to Eunha’s chest, watching her tits bounce as she rode you. “Ah, hold on,” she moaned, letting you off your hands to throw off her shirt. Eunha placed her hands on your chest and began moving again, her slow movements picking up speed with time. You placed your hands on her waist, holding her as she rode you. Eunha kept her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning as she felt your cock go deep inside her. “You’re…going to… make me cum,” Eunha said, struggling to get her words out.

“I’m going to cum too.” You grunted, your cock throbbing against her tightening walls. You begin thrusting into Eunha, going deeper as your bodies collide. “I want us to cum together,” Eunha nods her head, biting her bottom lip as she nears her climax. You both cry out as you reach your peak; Eunha slams herself down on you, impaling herself on your cock and cumming with you. You pull Eunha into a kiss as she collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you both slowly come down. 

“That was amazing,” she says, still out of breath. Eunha unmounts you and places herself on your bicep, taking a few deep breaths before looking into your eyes as you lay there together. 

“I’ve seen you at your work now. So I can ask you out on another date, right?” After a few minutes of staring into your eyes, her face turns red. She covers it with her hands and turns her back to you. “Eunbi? What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to turn her back around.

“It’s embarrassing!” She shouts into her hands.

“What?”

“Ahh! I said all those things in front of you!” Eunbi buries her face into the mattress and kicks her feet. 

“Those things?” You ask curiously.

“Those things about your cock and balls. It’s so dirty!” You laugh at her answer, making her raise her head. “Don’t laugh! I only say those things here because people like to hear that!” She explains, her tiny fists knocking on your chest. “You’re never going to hear me repeat those things! They’re too embarrassing to say to someone I’m dating!” 

You laugh again, enjoying how embarrassed she was. “So, does that mean we’re going on another date?” Eunbi pauses her tantrum, realizing what she said. She peers up at you, and you ask again, “Eunbi, would you like to go out on another date?”

Eunbi feels a warmth in her heart as she hears your question being asked so sincerely and nods. “I’d like that; yeah, let’s go on another date,” she says softly before embracing you. You spend the rest of your time lying together. When your time runs out, and you're forced to separate, Eunbi kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” You respond before kissing Eunbi one more time before you go. “Have a good day at work.” She smiles and waves as you shut the door behind you. You get home sometime past midnight and lay in bed. You couldn’t sleep, though; your body was filled with energy after your night with Eunbi. You thought you would feel tired, but that wasn't the case, and just as your mind began to drift, you got a single-word message from Eunbi. 

“Breakfast?” It made you chuckle, and you agreed to meet her for breakfast in the morning. The two of you met for breakfast, chatting about old cartoons like you had on your first date. Eunbi felt content, happy to have found you, and hoping the relationship continues. The wariness of a new relationship was still on her mind, but seeing that you went further than many others had dared to, she felt a sense of comfort with you.

[mandareeboo]

Really like your Arcane fanfic idea. Feels like a good mix of bitter and sweet: nothing is perfect for anyone but they’re slowly rebuilding, and even if it’s restoring something similar to the Vander-Grayson status quo, it’s still growth and gives all those involved a chance to grow and perhaps avoid repeating the mistakes of their predecessors and past selves.

Honestly, after how much Vi has suffered (like almost non-stop for 7ish years) and how since she got out of prison she’s been focus on fixing her mistakes or supporting Caitlyn, I really like the concept of Vi just pulling her shit together (re)building something for herself. Restoring the Last Drop to what it was meant to be; letting her both fix the past and make a new home for herself at the same time.

Vi would still have plenty of demons to deal with, but having a stable place and a purpose could help.

Also imagine local rich pretty boy man of progress Councillor Jayce Talis semi-frequenting a seedy Undercity bar, even helping out with repairs (because he wants to feel useful after his best friend left him to go be Jesus) which somehow keep resulting in wacky hijinks cause Vi and Jayce can’t have anything go to plan when working together. One minute they're replacing the lightbulbs and half an hour later they’ve collapsed half a Chem-Baron hideout

Oh Jayce ABSOLUTELY frequents the Last Drop. Vi and him share beers on the roof after a long day of kicking ass and Jayce infodumps about science and Hextech and politics and Vi nods along with half an ear and watches the crowd.

I'm thinking the inciting incident'll be Babette asking for her favor one day. Vi doesn't even question going, and Babette tells her there's a real rough asshole who keeps stiffing her people after beating them up and it's bad for morale, business, etc. Vi is like. Oh fuck yeah. She kicks the shit out of this guy and as he crawls away she realizes that she made a difference. She helped these people and it didn't cost her anything but time-- and Vi has nothing but time anymore.

As a concept scene, have Jinx confronting Vi on her taking over the Last Drop:

.

Vi knows what a gun barrel to the skull feels like by now, but it still makes her tense, fingers clenching into fists. She barely has the presence of mind to set the pitcher down on the table, wrenching her fingers free one at a time.

"Give me one good reason not to do this," Jinx whispers behind her. The gun jams into her harder and she knows, deep inside, that she's actually asking. She wants a reason not to do this.

Unfortunately, "I don't really have one."

"You became an Enforcer. You tried to choke me out!" She sounds near tears. The gun is shaking, rattling against her skin. "You're a monster."

"I am," Vi agrees easily, because yeah. She's made two monsters now, one right after the other, and she understands math enough to understand common denominators. She wonders how much math Jinx knows. Probably a lot. Silco seemed like the kind of bastard to get smart people in his business. "For what it's worth, I got fired."

A shrill wheeze escapes Jinx's throat. "You were always too stupid to keep a job."

"Yeah. I'm a real thickheaded bitch."

"Why do you even want this place, anyway?"

"The same reason Vander wanted it," she admits. "We both know he woulda wanted me to have this place. I'm the only one who can pour the drinks right."

"Vander," Jinx spits, conflicted on the word. "What does he matter, anyway? He's dead."

She can't really help herself. "Is he?"

There's a lengthy pause before the gun disappears from one side of her head to the other; Jinx whipping around in a flash to grab her cheeks and pull her close. Her eyes are blazing. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Nothing, I-"

"No. You don't get to say shit like that and not tell me what the fuck it means."

And that's fair, kind of, so Vi says; "I'm hearing voices, Jinx. His voice. And he's real mean."

Jinx's fingers slowly unclench around her jaw. She twists her face left and right, pulling open an eyelid, then checking inside her mouth. As if she was a studious scientist and she were a new species.

"You're not shitting me," she utters finally, tinged with disbelief. "You're crazy."

A smile slowly creeps across her face, and then Jinx is cackling, shaking hard with laughter as she stumbles away, gun falling to the floor. Vi rubs her jaw and watches her sister's shoulders tremble.

"Holy shit," Jinx says. "You're fucking crazy. Insane. Demented. Fucked up."

Vi works her jaw some more and doesn't answer.

"That is just so us of us!" Jinx points at herself, then at Vi. "We share mental illnesses instead of hugs!"

"Hey," Vi pouts. "I give great hugs."

[fromtheshadowsnyc]

Entry 1: New York State of Mind

[All dividers are credited to @saradika-graphics]

[Green Divider is credited to @firefly-graphics]

God, I hate living here.

I think that about a thousand times a day. When I’m forced awake from my alarm, when my mom yells at me to shower and get ready for another day at school. When I’m putting on the uniform for that snotty school I’m somehow attending. When I’m packing my little brothers’ lunchboxes while chewing on a freshly toasted poptart. When I’m dragging my feet to the train station. When I’m boarding the 6 train with the crowd waiting on the elevated station. When I get off at a station downtown and have to inhale the fresh ick from the subway as I walk up to the surface. When I have to dodge every idiot tourist or every other person trying to commute and live their lives.

You get the gist. No one hates New York more than someone who was actually born here. And it only gets worse the more you get randos from other states moving in and getting rid of what you actually loved about this place.

Ugh, another one? 

I frown at a new store sitting in the corner, where one of my fave bodegas used to rest. Replaced by another pretentious coffee shop/bakery mix. Probably run by some hipster idiot who will call 311 to complain about the loud Spanish and hip-hop music in the neighborhood.

Really tragic, honestly. Abdul was the only guy in this part of Manhattan who made a decent chop cheese. Plus, I liked his cat.

Unfortunately, this kind of cultural casualty has become all too common in the city these past couple years. From Washington Heights to Brooklyn, there’s barely anything that resembles the real NY anymore. Even Queens isn’t safe. It won’t be long until it infects my neck of the woods. It’s inevitable at this point.

Best that I can do is just dart my eyes forward and keep on walking.

The Stockman Academy for the Sciences is one of those fancy private schools you can only attend if you win a school scholarship—or if you’re a millionaire. 

Or, if you’re…

“Nice to see you showed up on time, charity case,” says a prim voice as I walk into homeroom. She’s surrounded by her usual minions, and making a show of fixing her make-up, her eyes on a compact mirror. “I was starting to think you finally gave up.” 

A retort does claw at my throat, but I hold it back and just walk to the furthest seat away from her, my fists trembling in the pockets of my school sweater. If there’s anyone in this school who walks around like their ass doesn’t stink, it would be Antonia Stockman—who is, of course, the only daughter of the school’s founder and current CEO the city’s most prominent science industries. Why does she feel the need to bother me? No idea. Far as I know, I didn’t do anything to her. Most days, I just use the same method I used back in my old school. Keep your head down, eyes forward, and mouth shut. No one can hurt you if you become invisible, right?

It’s just…very difficult, when you’re a poor kid surrounded by the children of New York’s elite. Everyone notices you’re different then. Like a smell you can’t wash off.

The moment I sit and set down my backpack, I reach inside and pull out a book I’ve been trying to finish. I’d go on my phone, but they aren’t allowed in school, which just makes my insides twist. I really want to message Cleo right now. Chatting with her always makes me feel better. Plus, it’s been so long since we hung out or even had a real conversation. Things have been a little…weird between us since I started attending Stockman Academy. In a way that makes me a little too anxious. What could be going on with her? 

It’s not even eight yet, and I already feel like I’m going to vomit.

Going to classes is a reprieve from anything involving socializing. I’m actually a decent student, and the teachers here make things interesting. (I guess there’s something to what my mom said about me needing a challenge.) But my favorite subject? It's a senior English elective, Investigative Journalism, which is taught by—

“So, can anyone tell me the impact of Upton Sinclair’s book The Jungle?”

My hand shoots up immediately and I make sure to keep eye contact with her. Pretty sure the selection isn’t hard, since barely anyone answers most days. Usually, in any other class, I’d join them in the usual student apathy—but of all the teachers in this school, she’s who I want to impress most.

She glances around the room before smiling at me. Then she gives a nod. I sit up, a nervous excitement fluttering through me. It’s nice to be noticed, sometimes.

“Because Sinclair revealed its grisly practices and what exactly was going in their products, the meatpacking industry had to change how they mix and package their meat. Including…”

I continue on for barely a minute, knowing I’ll probably end up talking too much. I don’t participate a lot, but when I do, my nerves make it hard for me to…well, stop talking. And I hate that, because I end up stuttering and sounding so…so dumb.

But not this time! I think, keeping my smile casual on the outside and beaming on the inside. No stutter, no rambling, I was perfect! I hope.

I truly do. Ms. O’Neil is not only the nicest teacher here, she is like The Journalist to learn from. Couple years back, she was the face you’d see in the mornings, talking about the issues and stories many news outlets refused to discuss. She called out the previous mayor and the NYPD commissioner for their neglect of crimes in certain areas, especially the still growing gang activity. Especially regarding news about the most recent gang that’s popped up, the elusive and dangerous Foot Clan.

No idea how she ended up teaching here. But I did notice sometime last year or so, she wasn’t reporting the news as much. A lot of the stories she’d been updating had been pushed aside for celebrity scandals and other big fluff pieces. Nothing that really mattered. For a while, her old network seemed to pretend she didn’t exist. 

Maybe she finally said too much. Maybe she finally pissed off the wrong person. Whatever the reason, I’m glad to see she’s still around—and that she’s teaching my class. She makes me feel like I still have a little luck.

“You did good today, kid! I see you’re growing more confident,” she says to me after class, her grin wide.

I feel ready to burst out of my skin and turn into butterflies. She’ll never really know how much that means to me, coming from her.

“Thanks Ms. O’Neil! Um, are we still meeting after school on Friday?” I ask, referring to the school newspaper. 

“Definitely! Gotta give you kids your assignments for next month’s issue. Unless you have any suggestions or requests?” she adds, her tone already knowing—but of course it is, she’s amazing—and eyes slightly narrowed behind her glasses.

My smile widens and I reach into my bag to pull out a folder.

“I actually have an idea for a series! Remember how we talked about New York’s gentrification a week ago? Well, I was thinking of going around certain spots in the city and talking about the longtime businesses still there. Like restaurants, bodegas, or indie bookshops, even—a lot of the stuff that helps a neighborhood retain its culture, y’know? I actually have some ideas already…”

My voice trails off as I pull out some pictures I took last weekend, of places I’ve been visiting since I was little. Fortunately, some things in the Bronx haven’t really changed too much. It still feels like home.

Ms. O’Neil looks at each picture, her smile growing and her eyes gleaming with each one. When her eyes meet mine again, I want to think she’s proud of me. 

“This is a great idea, kiddo. Let’s talk more about it on Friday.”

Needless to say, I was on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

“—Aw, that’s awesome, dude! Ya think O’Neil will approve my idea too?”

“What? About the secret population of underground mutant humanoids or whatever? Please, Norman,” says my friend Sakina, rolling her eyes while sitting next to me.

“Oh, right, like your idea about aliens is any better!”

“At least I have evidence!”

“Based on old Japanese water paintings and mythology!”

“Oh? Oh, okay—!”

The old argument continues while I sit between them on the quad, but as annoying as it is listening to two weirdos argue about the same fucking thing, these two weirdos are the only friends I’ve managed to make at the academy. So, I don’t really mind. Too much.

“C’mon, dude, we need you as a tiebreaker! You gotta have an opinion on one of our theories,” Norman begs me, his voice nasally and grating. “Aliens vs. Mutants?”

Pressing my mouth closed, I let out a hum in negative while shaking my head. “No way, man. I’m not touching either of your corners of weird. Like, aliens—okay, that’s at least something people have talked about for decades. But mutants? Let alone a secret society of mutants?”

“Who choose to live in the sewers, of all places,” Sakina adds emphatically, her eyes rolling to the sky in near pleading before she murmurs a soft prayer in Arabic. 

“Well, I mean. Would it really be a choice? Considering humanity’s track record of…well, everything?” Norman finishes in a cringe.

Still, the words weigh heavily in the air. We all look at each other before looking away in thought. Sometimes, in the face of the obvious, there is no perfect response.

Suddenly, Norman’s phone goes off. He quickly takes it out and unlocks it. When he sees what’s on the screen, he lets out a sigh and pushes up his glasses.

“That’s my mom. She’s waiting for me out front,” he grouses. Then he sends us a worried look. “You two sure you don’t want a ride?”

Surprisingly, Sakina smiles up at him. “Thanks, but I live all the way in Astoria, Norm. It would be too far out of the way.”

“Yeah, and I have to do a shift at Gino’s tonight,” I add. “Thanks, though. Discord later?”

He grins. “Hell yeah! I gotta play some Mass Effect tonight anyway. I’m this close—this close— to romancing Miranda.”

I chuckle, my chest bubbling with joy as I watch him walk away. Then I shake my head. That kid can be too much sometimes.

“The heck is Mass Effect?” Sakina asks, once he’s far enough.

“An old video game series. You might like it, though. It’s like a space opera thing,” I explain. Then, with a mischievous smirk, I add, “With aliens.”

“Hmm…are there aliens I can seduce?”

I nod. “One of them has tentacles—on her head.”

Sakina’s eyes widen. “Hmm! Color me intrigued.” 

I laugh, and then start standing up.

“C’mon, we got a train to catch.”

The train ride with Sakina is fairly smooth and quiet, considering we’re going further downtown. We were fortunate to be able to find a car that was roomy enough for us to find seats next to each other. For a good few minutes, we sit in peace—at least, until.

“…For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve chosen to write about something else,” Sakina speaks softly. “Other than…”

Her voice trails off, but she doesn’t have to say it. I already know.

“A baby journalist’s hit piece on the Foot Clan?” I finish, my voice rather dry.

“Girl, you know it would have been dangerous. O’Neil freaked when you even suggested it!”

“Believe me, you don’t have to remind me…” 

I already remember.

(“Absolutely not!”

“But why?!”

“Because they are dangerous, kid! They’re not just a bunch of cosplayers who dress as ninjas for fun, they hurt people. And they will do worse to anyone snooping around!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” I yelled back, tears springing to my eyes. “O'Neil, they’ve started recruiting people around my ‘hood! They’ve killed or taken people I know—and no one in this city is doing anything about it! No one thinks we’re important enough.”

“That’s not—”

“The only person who did was you! And you’re not doing it anymore!”

“…”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.” 

There was this…this look on her face. Her jaw slack. Her eyes were vacant. Like she wasn’t there for a moment—like she was somewhere else. It frightened me. What happened to her? Why did she stop working for the news? 

But in a sharp breath, April O’Neil was back and looking at me with shining dark eyes. Her hands went to my shoulders.

“Kid, the only reason I became so good at what I do is because of the connections I’ve made. Some that are more special than others. The only reason I’m still breathing today is because of those connections,” she told me, her voice full of a fear that scared me deeply, in a way I didn’t understand. “But you…you’re still a kid. This is not a battle you should fight…not on your own. You have to leave it to those who can.”)

I wanted to retort some more, but my momentum was already gone after the confrontation. I was just left feeling much like a know nothing kid. And isn’t that the truth? Yeah, sure, it feels like giving up but—I have to face the truth. Who am I compared to the great April O’Neil? Maybe it’s just best to stay in my lane.

Talking about the parts of NY yet to be gentrified? Much safer. And it’s still something I care deeply about. Hopefully, the students who read The Stockman Herald will like it too. 

“Trust me, I learned my lesson,” I tell Sakina. “No pursuing dangerous people for the sake of a story.”

“Good. Wait until you’re a real journalist. Or at least until you know how to actually fight.”

“Hey, I came from an area where fights happen every second of every day! You can’t blame me for having a conflict aversion.”

Sakina points at her head and says in a drawl, “I literally broke a fuckboy’s nose for attempting to tear off my hijab, I have all the right to blame you.”

I let out a chortle. “Okay, okay! You don’t have to keep reminding me. I’m well aware of your badass status.”

We both share a smile and then shift our conversation to other topics, like the other classes we take and what else we plan to do for the school newspaper. By the time it’s time for Sakina to get off and transfer to her next train, I feel my mood has lifted more than quite a bit. Even still not getting a response from Cleo doesn’t bother me as much; I’m sure she’s just busy. 

I put in my earbuds and turn on my playlist, allowing myself to ride the calm of the subway ride. Might as well enjoy the peace now, before I spend the next few hours helping to make and deliver pizza.

[lunar-years]

ok happy wip wednesday everyone xxx I had a burst of inspiration today and now my unnamed rjk friends with benefits fic is at 22k words which means I'm giving you an extra-long sneak peak :)

Please enjoy this little snippety snippet:

The breakdown that had been building all day finally came once he sat down in his driver’s seat and realized, promptly, that he didn’t feel capable of putting the car into gear. Beyond that, driving home felt like a herculean effort, and once he got there he wouldn’t be able to turn on the telly, because it was still set to Sky Sports from the night before, and all the pundits were going to be talking about were him. He couldn’t log on to his socials, either, because the fans were all going to be talking about him, and not in the good way, and besides that he didn’t want to look at his mobile because his dad might’ve called, or might not’ve called, and Jamie didn’t even know which one was worse one way or the other anymore. He was out now for the next three matches. That were bad enough as it was. Add in that Roy might not even talk to him now, might go back to that terrible time when he'd refused to coach Jamie directly and make Nate or Beard do it instead, and things were a rightful misery. Jamie didn’t have any idea how to make it up to him. Roy being so adamant about not mixing work with whatever else they got up to, even his best apology blowjob wasn’t likely to suffice. He wondered, too tired to feel all that desperate about it, if this was the end of all of that, too. Roy probably wouldn’t want to fuck him again after such a display, and Jamie could hardly blame him. He shouldn’t feel such grief over it, honestly. Jamie had known from the beginning the sex was temporary. Just a bit of fun. And now he’d gone and botched even that, which was probably always something that was bound to happen, given that it was him. But just as well, there it was. It had happened now, and Jamie didn’t feel resigned to it like he was supposed to, he felt…hollow. Hurt.  That was his own fucking fault, too.  It was too much to think about. More than anything, he wanted to shut off his brain for even an hour. As that weren’t an option, he settled for the next best thing—hitting the steering wheel so hard it made his hand throb and then bursting promptly into tears about it, right there in the Richmond car park.  //

He didn’t know how long he sat there pathetically crying, but eventually there was a gentle knock on the window. Keeley. Jamie blinked twice just to confirm it was really her and not a hallucination, like them people who got stuck in the desert and then imagined springs of water just because they were so desperate for it. She smiled at him kindly through the window, looking solid enough, and then tapped it again with her finger and gestured for him to roll it down.  “What are you still doing here?” he asked as soon as he’d done so, swiping at his face and trying not to be deeply embarrassed at her finding him in such a state. Usually Keeley disappeared with Rebecca immediately after their matches, off for cocktails and gossip or whatever it was the two of them got up to. He'd never expected her to show up. Now, Keeley stared at him with big, soft eyes that made Jamie want immediately to start crying again. She didn’t answer him immediately. “Oh babe,” she whispered instead, bringing a handkerchief up to his face and swiping lightly at this cheeks. “Care if I join you?” Jamie nodded, flipping the lock. Keeley walked around the boot and rematerialized in the passenger side, immediately pulling him towards her over the centre console and stroking through his hair before he could even process it was happening, like she was his guardian fairy, or whatever.  Ridiculously, Jamie’s brain chose then to remember the time she’d called his car pavlovian. Couldn’t be in here without wanting to jump his bones. Well Keels, he thought, letting out a clipped laugh that sounded more like a choke and made Keeley's grip in his hair tighten, look how far we’ve come. There was decidedly nothing sexy about him getting snot all over her Richmond windbreaker as he sobbed into her shoulder, sometimes letting out that hysterical, barked laugh. He couldn't stop. Keeley's hair was frizzy-soft today, the ends tickling his neck where her ponytail draped over him, and the edge of the console was pressing into his side unpleasantly, but he didn’t want to move, either. He didn’t want her to go away.  “I was worried about you when you didn’t answer my six messages, love,” Keeley said softly, pressing her lips against his hairline. 

[practically-an-x-man]

Due to shenanigans, your OCs have to go clubbing! What do they wear, and what do they do?

Oooh thank you!! Good question!!

(just for the record, this is like... a random mix of their actual faceclaims and just random outfits I picked out for them lol)

Rae: The only reason she'd be in a club is for some sort of mission assignment (she doesn't drink, and doesn't really enjoy being crushed in by the crowd anyway). She'd have to borrow a dress, probably from Raven, which means that she ends up in something quite a bit more revealing than she wanted

Robin: I could see her in a green cocktail dress like this, and she's probably up by the speakers, enjoying the feeling of the bass rattling under her feet

Madison: She doesn't really enjoy attention from strangers, so she's probably wearing something looser and less form-fitting, and sticking to Alex the whole time (honestly, the only reason she'd really be in a club at all is if they needed to do recon at the Hellfire Club or something)

Ophelia: Honestly I think any one of Rhea Ripley's stage outfits could work for her, but I'm gonna go with this one in particular

She probably dances for a bit, until one of the speakers glitches out and she ends up stepping up to tweak/fix it

Jasper: Hm... they're probably just tossing on a band t-shirt and a pair of jeans, maybe would throw on a little punk makeup if they felt like it. They probably wouldn't worry too much about their outfit, since they'll probably be hiding out in the bathroom until they can leave (since the emotions of everyone else out on the dance floor would be suffocating)

Katherine: I don't see her as much of the clubbing type, but I imagine she'd wear something like this (and probably just bring her sketchbook and hole up in the corner to sketch the crowd until she's allowed to leave lol)

Kestrel: Has no idea what a clubbing outfit should look like (has never been inside a club in their life), so they end up going in whatever they were wearing before - most likely a button-up and work pants.

Quinn: Most likely something so punk and revealing it's probably right on the verge of getting them thrown out, but I also really love this look (and Mason Alexander Park is my faceclaim for Quinn anyway)

She doesn't really dance anymore, but she'll get a few drinks and watch the rest of the Ghosts make fools of themselves as they get progressively more drunk.

Eris: In all honesty.... I have no idea if Eris would wear this to a club, but I need you to appreciate this picture of May Calamawy because holy shit

Nikoletta: This is actually the dress I picked out for her to wear in la Gatita Amable, so...

As far as what she's doing, she's dancing her heart out. She used to love clubbing before she got her shadow-touch, and she'd love to step back into that world once she's safe to touch again. She's a fantastic dancer, but you can bet that everyone around her is wondering why she's turned down about four different men (and women) in favor of staying next to the guy who looks like he stepped out of a bad 70s disco XD

[thyandrawrites]

hi! please feel no pressure to answer this ask, but as a former Dabihawks shipper I am very curious if you see any possible scenarios for their post-canon relationship? even throwing the ending out of the window, I just can't imagine what their relationship could be like after the war, which is weird with the way they were so consistently set up as close narrative foils 😅

That's valid. Honestly even tho I still ship it, this pairing has lost part of its original appeal for me too, given my preference for canon-compliant stuff and how canon went. But I think that a lot of things are possible in the realm of fanfic. All it takes is just a strong and believable enough foundation to justify why a character would make x choice instead of y, you know?

As I mentioned in previous replies, I have little to no interest in exploring any post canon scenarios that stem from the canon ending, personally. But if I were to write one, I guess my focus would be on getting Dabi and Hawks to be on speaking terms again, first. They didn't part on good terms, and there's several unsolved issues between them that I'd want to address before building up on their relationship. Here's a few off the top of my head:

Not to revive a dead horse just to beat it to death again, but Hawks... very much still thinks his actions during the war were justified. And he got a promotion out of it too, which wouldn't help him see them under a critical light, either. This poses the biggest problem to a post-canon dabihawks scenario imo because that dehumanization and Othering he does subconsciously is anthitetical to him seeing a romantic partner in Dabi. Or to being the kind of "think for yourself" person Dabi would be fond of. Unless, like. You were interested in writing a toxic relationship, I guess.

Building off point one, if Hawks doesn't think heroes did wrong in the war, then he would not have the necessary perspective to change society for the better even in his new role as the HPSC president. Ideally, I'd want to develop his character to the point where he stops thinking in such black and white terms anymore. Dabi would simply never respect him if Hawks didn't walk that mile first imo. On the other hand, if Hawks did grow from his old stances, and eventually learned to use the lesson Twice was trying to teach him before he died to make society better, I think that would make quite an impression on Dabi. It's all about overcoming that mental block Hawks seems to have against victimhood and his own complex relationship with it.

As for Dabi, he threatened Tomie and scared her so much she fled, again, leaving her son behind. And maybe Hawks didn't have much of a relationship left with his mom, but Dabi did take that chance away from him, whether Hawks was ready to cut off contact with her altogether or not. That's bound to leave some baggage, and there must be resentment there that they'd need to address and work their way past. You know... maybe reconnecting with his own family could make Dabi grow enough in turn to realize what he needs apologizing for.

The wings... I haven't read the fight with AFO so I'm not sure how Hawks ended up losing the stubs too, but Dabi did begin the process, and it left Hawks quirkless. Again, that's bound to have more consequences than him being immediately fine with it. Hawks' entire life was shaped by his wings' usefulness to those around him, and suddenly he lost the very thing he centered his entire identity around. If I was writing their reconciliation, I'd probably address the mixed feeling he must hold for Dabi, the person who did that to him, but also Touya, the son of possibly the only person Hawks has ever fully respected.

I'm sorry if you were looking for specific scenarios as in fic ideas, but even if I wasn't writer blocked right now I doubt I would want to delve that deep into this. Hope this answer somewhat sates your curiosity tho!

[babyspacebatclone]

Ok, just back from the live action The Little Mermaid.

And may I confidently say?

Best live-action Disney adaptation yet.

True, a low bar to clear, but this honestly felt like a movie and a love story, and not just a cash grab.

Every single changed scene had me smiling. Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) was amazing, and Halle Bailey truly is Ariel, I want her version to become the defacto in the Disney Princesses line because she feels sweet and clever and brave above and beyond the animated version.

(No offense to Jodi Benson, I love her, but the animated version is what it was and the new Ariel is just given more room to breathe.)

I think, comparing, my child self would love the animated spectacle more…

But my adult self loves the tighter, more in depth story of the live action more.

It feels like the best kind of fan fiction, one where someone who loves the characters asks “How were they feeling here? How can I expand this?”

And gives us those glimpses.

Not perfect, but definitely enough for me to fan girl.

Speaking of which… Spoilers below the cut.

Right from the opening scene, you see this movie is taking itself and the responsibility of the story seriously. I love the development of Eric, his camaraderie with the sailors while also being a good mix of level headed (don’t just harpoon mermaids) with reckless insanity (dude, you’re a prince, please don’t laugh while dangling by one arm over open water. ah, well, i love you anyway).

I can feel how much the film pulls back the special effects budget, especially making the introduction of Triton’s daughters basically a business meeting instead of the grand performance, but the filmmakers were smart enough to make the change work. I like the idea of each daughter being “manager” of a specific sea under daddy’s “CEO,” and it was a great excuse to give diversity to each sister.

Plus, I loved their banter/interaction while cleaning the shipwreck, they felt natural and I wish we could have had more time with them.

Speaking of natural!

As a writer I was listening to the exposition, and in my opinion it was exceptionally well done, especially for the amount they crammed into the beginning. Some of it was on-the-nose, but that was restricted to Grimsby, Sebastian, and Ursula, and felt character appropriate in each context.

There was an eye for why the character is saying something - “Am I supposed to tell the Queen her son died, and on his birthday?”; “A shipwreck brought you to us, and now a shipwreck almost took you away, I can’t stand this anymore!”

I didn’t fee like making Eric an adopted orphan of the royal family was necessary, but I loved both Jonah’s and Noma Dumezweni’s performances enough that I accept the filmmakers wanting to justify things and they do tie it in to Eric’s expanded character.

And that is 👌👌👌 he’s so sweet and adorkable and they manage to make his longing to see the world beyond his island mesh with Ariel’s longing for the surface world without it feeling forced.

You see them shyly come together over their shared feelings of isolation and longing for something they’ve only been able to glimpse, not experience.

Turning the ideas that Ursula is King Triton’s sister and Ariel’s mother was killed by humans into not just canon, but pertinent plot points, was excellent.

I wish we could have known more about her mother, but can I say I’m glad it was never revealed Ursula was actually responsible? I suspected that when it was clear Ursula had been banished around the time of the death, but it works so much better than it really was just one human that traumatized King Triton, and him having to overcome his hatred of humanity as a whole despite his lose.

Ursula pulling out the “I’m your Aunt, ‘Daddy’ has hurt me so much by refusing to understand me, too” was genius.

It especially helped with the fact that Ariel was going to refuse to sacrifice her entire life (realism!!) only to give in because of her anger in a moment of spite towards her father (realism!!!), especially with seeing their relationship and knowing that Ariel’s fear of being enclosed under her father’s constant watch was probably accurate.

As a song, “For the First Time” isn’t particularly special.

Including Ariel actively doubting her decision to come to land? Brilliant.

The entire day out and “Kiss the Girl” sequence is perfection, fight me.

Grimsby being an active shipper on deck?? 😍

I personally prefer Eric being the one to steer the ship in the climatic fight, but the detail of Ariel steering it because she’d witnessed him trying to save the ship in the beginning was nice symmetry.

The animal companions were done very well in my opinion: Scuttle was better handled than in the animation to me, Sebastian was perfect and they did a great job humanizing his design with his eyes compared to previous outings, and Flounder was - there. With Max.

Almost feel you could have cut the last two out and lost nothing except babbling to Triton at the beginning, Eric coulda saved the shipboy at the beginning…

(And yes Flounder’s “realistic” design does not improve in context, fortunately he’s on screen less than the animated characters with charisma)

I love the expansion of the prejudices on both sides; I wish it had been better explored at the end, but Queen Selina’s speech to her son about how his feelings for Ariel despite her being a “sea creature” (her initial fearful reaction) was beautiful.

Brain’s trickling down, it was an early showing, but you get the point.

It’s well worth watching the movie, and I’m up for rambling if anyone else is! 😊

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 5 of Harrow the Ninth

Another broken memory, with the broken skull, in the third person, of a scene from Gideon the Ninth but involving Ortus instead. I went back to this scene in Gideon briefly so that I could compare

So here is where the "necro suitcase" comment is clarified, I see

In the original scene, she didn't do this (the sitting on dirt thing). Gideon mentioned that it's something that necromancers in the stories she read did, but Harrow didn't do it for whatever reason

Gideon originally just mentioned that the planet had a lot of water, and was mainly interested in the fact that it wasn't frozen or boiled away, but Harrow here is saying that all she can see is water, and Canaan House. I guess it's possible that Canaan House is somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but what if this is something like what happened in Homestuck where future Earth became a waterworld that was entirely ocean? I guess it might explain why there aren't people living there, and why no one has wood or paper anymore, but like, there are people in this universe living on Pluto and Mercury, I'm sure they could figure out how to support a decent population on a planet that is 100% ocean, too

In the original scene, Harrow said the planet was a tomb, but there's nothing in the narrative here to explain why she thought that, and she doesn't say that this time around

I honestly don't know what Ortus did mean by "bone frenzy" here, unless it just meant blood lust or something, and how he thinks it related to Harrow's schizophrenia, and how Harrow thinks it could be misinterpreted, but interpreting poetry has never been something I've been good at. Is Mattias Nonius, and Ortus's epic poem about him, going to become more relevant in these Ortus-related memories?

Ok, this is funny, because I was 35 myself four years ago, and definitely did not feel this way about it, and actually still don't, living forever still seems pretty cool to me, modulo situations like Cytherea's and the whole thing where the Lyctors are being eternally pursued by Resurrection Beasts. Given that neither of them know about those things in context of this broken memory, I think this might just be Ortus, personally

She did talk to the pilot at this point in the original scene. But here we get a cryptic note that only Harrow can see:

I have no idea what this means, but I'm reminded of Cytherea's "you lied to us" message at the end of Gideon the Ninth. This therefore seems like the person who said, or wrote this was probably a Lyctor, and someone else's thoughts or memories or whatever are getting mixed up with these broken memories. I'm curious now if these broken memories were just a side effect of Harrow's Work, or if they were specifically intentionally rewritten as a separate step, or if they are just Harrow's imagination trying to fill in the gaps of memories or pieces of memories that are just gone now. If they were specifically rewritten, I'm guessing something about how that was done injected this message in here, but if it's just post-Work Harrow's imagination, this might be something that she heard someone say at some other time and then forgot about

In the original scene, Harrow offers Gideon a veil to shield her eyes and Gideon puts on sunglasses instead. Here this scene ends without Ortus covering his eyes at all, or Harrow worrying about him, which is sort of interesting

[clairypotter]

to a buried and a burning flame (teaser)

i'm in a silly goofy mood so here's a lil snippet of one of the fics I'm working on (this one being from Al's perspective), in which he and Scorpius have been fake-dating for a few weeks in an attempt to make one of their friends jealous - only, both of them have been harboring very secret, very real feelings. now at a breaking point, Rose & Lily urge Al to consider the possibility that his love for Scorpius is, in fact, not unrequited anymore, and he is, in fact, somehow painfully oblivious to this:

“Wait,” Lily breathes, turning back to him. “Did you suggest this plan? To...pretend to go out with one another?”

Al shakes his head, swallowing. “No, he did. He said it might get Yann off my back if I were…seeing someone else.”

She bites her lower lip, considering. “Well, he clearly isn't opposed to the idea of being with you, then, if it was his idea to begin with. Who’s to say he would mind if it was real? Is he- gay?”

“I don’t know,” Al admits, noticing as Rose stiffens slightly. “Maybe. I don’t want to get my hopes up.” Lily crosses her arms, and he reluctantly adds, “He has been pretty…receptive to…certain things.”

“Like kissing?” she smirks, her brows raised in teasing question. “Ah, yes. I know I, for one, regularly snog my straight female friends, too- as a joke, of course." She rolls her eyes. "Honestly, Al. Think.”

“I have,” he groans, finally taking a seat next to Rose before the exhaustion of this conversation overtakes him, tossing his school bag at the foot of the wooden bench. “All I do around him is think. I think about the right and wrong things to say, agonizing over every word, every compliment. I think about which gestures would cross a line, which kiss or touch would make him uncomfortable. I think about how to prevent myself from projecting my own selfish, very real feelings onto him." He looses a breath. "He doesn’t deserve that. To be pressured into…something he never signed up for.”

“No,” Rose agrees, shifting slightly in her seat. “But maybe you haven’t pressured him at all. Maybe he…suggested this relationship for a reason.”

Al stills, not daring to look up from the spot on the ground he’d fixated on. “What do you mean?”

He can feel her gaze on him, but she continues without waiting for him to meet it. “Well, did you ever think to question the timing when he asked you to go out with him? There you were, days away from getting together with Karl, who you could’ve fake-dated just as easily for the same purpose. But Scor beat you to it. Asked you out, of his own free will, to prevent that from happening. Why? Why would he risk the implications of- being out, being with you, if his own feelings weren’t stemming from something at least partially real? Why would he have kissed you ‘to be sure’ if he wasn’t already questioning things on his end?” He finally looks at her, a small, genuine smile on her face- so unlike her usual stoicism. “Not everything that's happened between you can be chalked up to coincidence, Al. He’s trying to tell you something, and you’ve been too blinded by the need to keep your feelings as buried as possible to accept any of it as truth.”

Oh.

“Shit.” His eyes glance warily to Lily, who looks just as stunned as he feels. “You should be a psychotherapist, Rose," she murmurs.

“I’ve been getting that a lot lately, believe it or not,” Rose smirks, shifting her attention back to him. “So? Are you willing to admit your long-held feelings may not be unrequited anymore, or should I start over?”

Al can hardly breathe, a strange mix of dread and exhilaration coursing through him as he turns her words over in his head. He'd never...never considered any of that. Never allowed himself to believe Scorpius had suggested this relationship for any reason other than wanting to make him happy, wanting to protect him from Yann. And he had- Merlin knows he had made him so, insanely happy these past two weeks, but...perhaps not in the way Scorpius thought he had. “How do you…I’ve never told you the details of how we got together. Or about…our first kiss,” he realizes with a start. “Did Scor- has he been confiding in you, this entire time? All your...study sessions?"

“He’s told me…enough, that I can pretty safely guess where he stands,” she says, and the knife in his stomach twists deeper. “And I think you’d like your odds.”

Al feels himself instinctively trying to dismiss her words, dismiss the truth that Scorpius could actually feel the exact same way, could be dealing with the same hesitancies and doubts and fears of admitting those feelings- but he pushes them down just as quickly as they’d appeared, recalling her earlier statement- ‘You’ve been too blinded by the need to keep your feelings as buried as possible to accept any of it as truth.’ 

That’s exactly what he’d done- what he has done for the entirety of their friendship. Every touch too good to be true, every lingering look or compliment attributed to Scorpius just being a good mate. Just this morning, just a few moments ago- when they’d kissed like their lives had depended on it, and he’d written it off as some cruel joke the universe was playing on him, making him fall over and over again for someone he couldn’t have- at least, not sincerely. 

The tears he thought he’d willed away return with a sudden ferocity, clouding his eyes until he can barely see in front of him. “Okay,” he manages, wiping at his cheek before he can embarrass himself any further. “Say he does. How do I- ask him? To make it real?”

Rose thinks it over for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek in a clear attempt to suppress an even wider smile. “Well, if Lily’s account of your kiss moments ago in the hallway is any indication, you might not need to. Maybe he’ll ask you first. Again.”

Lily looses a small laugh, and despite himself, he feels a bit lighter, loosening up as the reality of the situation- of his new odds- hit him. He shakes his head softly. “No, I- I want to ask him first.”

“You have been pining for far longer,” Lily adds, grinning ear to ear. “It’s only fair.”

“I thought I said earlier to spare me your teasing.”

“Yeah, but that was before you got all sappy on us,” she says as she crosses over to sit next to him, resting her head against his shoulder. “Who would’ve thought.”

“I’ve gotten sappy about him plenty of times before now,” he reminds her, grateful for her presence even if he’d never admit it- grateful for both of them, truly, their ability to tease and talk and laugh with him until he can't remember why he'd been upset in the first place.

“Obviously. But even I can tell this is…different, somehow. I’ve never actually seen you cry over him, before- not like this,” Rose says with a knowing smirk. “You really love him.”

“Of course I do,” he says, sniffling slightly as he feels another traitorous tear fall. “I always have.”

[opinated-user]

In Lily's video on why The Legend of Korra is awful, she rants that Republic City is just like America because a mix of people of different cultures live there and that has created a unique place. In reality, Republic City is based off of Shanghai, which is a mixture of distinct Han Chinese cultures - Anhui, Jiangsu, Henan and Sichuan - and nine foreign ethnic groups that make up substantial populations, in addition to ethnic Russians who have lived in the city for four or five generations and Uyghurs.

Lily hates the US most of the time when she mentions it, but she doesn't care about Canadian politics or history even as anti-Native sentiment increases in many provinces and multiple Canadian conservatives propose anti-trans laws, so she's managed to convince herself that it's the center of the universe. She projects it onto everything. When presented with media based on Shanghai, she says it's just like America, because she thinks only the United States has diverse metropolitan areas. (The oldest city we have proof of having a diverse population, Ur, was established in 3800 BC, btw. She is literally ignoring 6000 years of history in order to pretend diversity = USA.) When presented with the idea of another country, Japan, she falls over herself to ramble about how Japan is just like the United States.

I've never seen someone this incapable of understanding the real world before. She genuinely cannot grasp that different places are different. She can't understand that more than one culture exists on Earth. She doesn't know that cities throughout the world have a long history of diversity and multiple ethnicities living in one place.

When she's screaming on YouTube, it's performative, reactionary panic and rage meant to draw in people who mistake talking quickly for being intelligent (the Fox News maneuver, basically). But when she's streaming, she's off the cuff, and off the cuff, she's so bafflingly stupid. Even when I was a little kid I understood that different places are different and not everywhere on Earth is just like the United States. Even when I was a little kid I understood that cities have people from different places.

When she goes full mask off, she's as racist as she is with the mask on. What I was not expecting was the utter and total inability not just to think, but to put together coherent thoughts to express her bad opinions.

I just cannot fathom what's wrong with her. I have some pretty severe mental illnesses, but even prior to medication and treatment, I still had the ability to think circles around her, uh... I don't even know how to describe what she's doing. Rambling implies a coherent through-line. This feels more akin to what my dad says when his Alzheimer's is particularly pronounced that day.

I don't understand how people follow her or look up to her. She's just so dumb. She didn't know that places other than the United States have diverse cities, ffs. What's the appeal?

i honestly don't know anymore. i had said before that she being angry at things worth getting angry about (homophobia, transphobia, etc) was what made me subscribe to her and even become her patreon, but lately even that has been lost among the bad awful comments that she can say with the same confidence as her own name.

[queersolarfandompage]

⚠️TW Vent⚠️ I don’t know what to warn for but it’s basically about being an autistic kid raised by a non autistic parent

My father unintentionally said something really shitty to me today. We were talking about my new job and the anxiety I had when he brought up I might have to shave for the job and the relief when the job told me I did not. The conversation continued about how I like my beard. It makes me feel masculine and handsome. My father disagreed saying my beard was patchy (which honestly it is) and it didn't make me handsome.

And here's where my brain splits. Knowing my father I know that's what he meant. He thinks the beard does not make me hands-on, not that he thinks I'm not handsome, but it is not because of the beard.

But what I hear is “You're not handsome.” Which sucks as someone who already has a plethora of issues with my body. It broke a piece of my self confidence which I've just started to gain.

We jokingly go back and forth with it. “My beard makes me handsome.” “No it doesn't.” “I am handsome.” “Think what you want.”

I don't know if my father considers me handsome. That thread of self-consciousness starts to spread and I convince myself he meant what he said.

I'd moved on and was saying good night to my stepmom, joking about how I'd asked my father to take me clothes shopping instead of her. After a bit of joking around I made a joke about not wanting to take my father anymore because he's mean to me. A joke I use a lot when something minor doesn't go my way. You won't let me rub glitter on you? God you're so mean to me. You don't play along with my games like I hoped you would? You're so mean to me. It's never a real issue when I say it, just a joking pout.

So my stepmom asks what my father had done, and I had to think on what “mean” things my father has done and still in a joking manor I tell my step mom about the beard discussion.

And she gets this look about her. God I just put my dad in the dog house. Because she heard the same thing I did, even though I explained it the way my father meant it. “He said my beard is patch and it doesn't make me attractive.”

I'm not really upset by the matter but I'm not fine with it either. I should explain to my dad how it sounds to me, but the fear of him agreeing stops me. I've also never been great with communicating how something makes me feel. Which is probably why my stepmom took the issue so strongly. But like I feel bad for getting my dad in trouble for it.

On the other hand my stepmom is probably the best thing that's happened to my father and me (not my older brother but he's a dick anyway.) Especially since an old therapist suggested I may have autism. Like as a kid food was the enemy. I had a very select group of food I would eat, like most children, but I wouldn't eat food that touched without a fight. I refused to mix food (like spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce.) if my father ever treated to leave me at the dinner table until I finished my plate is get comfortable and sleep there.

And I just think of a couple years ago when my dad and I got into a huge fight about spaghetti. My parents had a rule that I needed both pasta and tomato sauce on my plate, otherwise I'd just eat a plat of noodles. I'd accepted those terms and while never a lot, always made sure my plate had tomato sauce along with my pasta. After some time my father decided it was time I start mixing the two and that fight was bad. My father had threatened to blend all of my food together and have me drink it, and he tried to smack my mouth for back talking, but missed and gave me a bloody nose. Eventually my stepmom involved herself, because the fight had escalated too much, and started chewing my dad out. I was eating the food anyway. What did it matter if it was mixed or not? And since my father has never brought up the issue again.

I don’t believe my father is a bad guy, but he has ideas that don’t work with my brain. He thinks things should be a certain way and I didn’t fit that mold so he tried to teach it to me the best way he knew how to forcing me to bed to his ideas. And my stepmom has taught him that maybe that isn’t the best thing to do, and has helped him become more open and communicative.

Another little autistic thing my brain is thinking about is comfort clothing. Not like I’m wearing this because it’s comfy, but I’ve worn this same jacket for the last 8 weeks because it makes me not want to die. I remember my mother making me throw away one of my comfort shirts when I was younger because it no longer fit me, and it was a fight. Or I used to get comments about wearing the same thing for two days in a row or before and after a shower. And now with the McGill Sweater, nearly every moment I’m home I’m wearing it. It’s another thing that makes me feel attractive and it brings me so much joy. Neither of my parents have commented on how often I’m seen wearing it, and as long as it’s in the house and I’m keeping up on my hygiene it’s not too big an issue.

Anyway I love my stepmom. She is my favorite parent and both my biological parents know that. Rip little 9 year old me who believed in evil stepmothers and hated her for taking my mom’s place. Yeah we don’t always get along, but she cares about me like I was her own child and loves me as such.

[shewritesinblackink]

Dawn's destiny - a Godless fanfiction - part 1

character present but not limited to; Frank Griffin, Troy Goode, my og character Dawn Whitaker. Other characters might pop in in the next part(s).

note: ahhh hello!! i'm back at writing fics!! I really wanted to write something for the mini show Godless because there is too little fics about it and I love it so much, honestly I had to. As usual comments with your thoughts are heavily welcome, and if you notice some mistakes please do notify me so I can edit the fic! This first part is rather short, but I'm working on the 2nd ;) here's the AO3 link :)

masterlist :)

warnings: mention of blood, injury, guns, violence in general lol it's the wild west after all.

Summary: Dawn’s been on the run from a group of men. The desert was not a good territory to hide and she was in bad shape. But she still has the fight in her, and eventually in her frantic chase for freedom, she stumbles upon Frank Griffin group’s camp.

word count: 1k approximately

part 2

The heavy heat of the midday scorched Daw’s skin as she kept on running through the wild and tall dry grass. Ignoring the stabbing of rocks in the tender flesh of her feet. The butter-like yellowness of the landscape rolling around her as she ran frantically, blurred as her eyes became dry with the dust. Each intake of breath was a painful punch to her lungs and a mouthful of sandy dirt, making her throat ache for a sip of water. The actual stab wound slicing at her side though, was another pain in Dawn’s chase toward freedom. Her clothes had been torn apart, leaving her skin exposed to the harsh elements of nature. Red from the angry bite of the sun and stinging from the venomous spikes of some bushes.

Her plaid shirt torn in the middle, the buttons having been ripped off with a blade, was showing a very red and puffy wound trailing down her sternum all the way down in the middle of her chest. The last few buttons holding the piece of fabric together were about to give up from all the fighting and thrashing around. Dawn’s breath caught suddenly when she tripped on a dead tree branch on the floor and fell face first. A sharp pain spread quickly to her chin, blood dripping down her throat. Bright red turning brown as it mixed with the yellow dirt.

All strength seemed to abandon her, as she lay in the blazing heat somewhere in the desert. The realization that she had no idea where she was dawned on her, but the panic she should have felt didn’t come. In place, she found herself rather numb of any feeling at all. She wasn’t mad at herself, nor was she scared to die. The only panic and anger she had felt was what she had experienced when they had kidnapped her two days prior. She had immediately thought of all the atrocities the men were capable of doing to a woman. Or any other living being, for that matter. They had been three, but she had killed one in her tentative escape, with a knife to the heart. The two others had been on her tail ever since. She had stolen the dead man’s horse and hadn’t stopped until the poor animal collapsed an hour ago, white foam at the brim of its mouth. After that she had tried to keep on moving, but barefoot in the desert was not a pleasant experience. It was like walking on shards of broken glass.

Her feelings might be numb from the exertion, but so was her exhausted body. Her feet didn’t hurt anymore. Her dislocated shoulder only a distant cry and her eyes weren’t scratchy. She had closed them in a desperate attempt to escape from the sun, which was burning holes in her skin. Her breathing was slow and uneven. She stopped breathing entirely when she heard horses snickering, their hooves shuffling on the dirt. Voices echoed far in the distance but she knew they were nearby. Closing her hand as firmly as she could on the knife by her side, she tried to conceal it in her sleeve. Her damaged knuckles screaming in agony, she stayed silent and motionless. Playing dead.

Everything happened in a flash. A big white cloud passed in the sky, hiding the blinding light of the white sun and she hit them. Screaming in rage and fatigue, she swung her knife and sliced through one man’s throat. Hot blood gushing from his dirty skin, splashing on her face and clothes. She didn’t waste a second and turned around as the second man was grabbing the Colt at his hip. He was too slow, the shock and surprise significantly altering his reaction. She threw herself at him and they both collapsed in a mess of limbs and angry cries. Sharply, she positioned herself on top of him, stabbing him in the shoulder. She was aiming for the heart but he was moving too much, trying to shake her off of him. Suddenly she saw herself flying in the air, head near the ground. It seemed like an eternity before she landed heavily on her back, the pain in her shoulder making her scream before she realized she was still going down. Rolling on herself, head over toes and then sideways, she bumped into rocks and bushes and dead tree branches. Protecting her head with her hands, she closed her eyes and waited for it to end. Maybe she’d die without realizing it. Without feeling it.

But she suddenly landed on a flat ground, stopping her in her infernal descent. The cicadas were still singing and she could still feel the gaze of the sun on her skin. She let out a heavy sigh and coughed hard, before slowly rolling on her back. Feeling another gaze on her, she turned her head to the side and opened her eyes. Before her were twenty, perhaps more, men scattered through the rocks under the hill. Horses snickered in a corner and a campfire was slowly cooking them dinner.

A chill ran down her spine as she realized she might just be in more troubles than with the three men from before. Turning her face the other way quickly, she saw the abrupt and high end of the hill. Her fall must have lasted a long minute. Quite a show for those sitting in the shade of the hill. Everyone was silent until she shot up, ignoring the pain spreading through her side and shoulder, and the blood leaving her body dangerously fast. She ran to the nearest man and swiftly grabbed a Winchester rifle resting against a rock, arming it and aiming at the group of men. Some drew their guns in a concert of metallic clicks, others just laughed and kept eyeing her as if she was a kid. Dawn’s brow dipped low; they were too many for her to take alone.

“Hey, easy. Easy.” One of them said, but she barely registered it. Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted as she heard a horse’s hooves echoing closer. It could only be the man she had fought a moment before. Coming down to finish what he had started with his missing companions. Drawing in a deep breath she ran to the dirt path, and upon seeing him she aimed and shot. Right through his heart, the bullet ricocheted against the rocky side of the hill behind him. A second later he fell from his horse to the ground, silently. Wordlessly. His worn out hat still on his head.

The luminous world swayed before Dawn’s eyes, her head suddenly spinning and her body going numb once more. Absently she reached to the wound at her side; hot and sticky shiny red blood coating her hand and clothes abundantly. She looked at it, not a single emotion crossing her face, and collapsed on the ground. One man, with a big gray-white beard, approached her motionless form and bent down to pick up the Winchester rifle beside her.

[punk-ballerina]

I’m doing this cause I’m bored and sick at home lol. I’m gonna try to do it all tonight lol. I kno that’s not how ur supposed to do it.

1. Hight: 5’9, CW: 232, SW: 244, GW: 150 , UGW: 100-115 (whatever I look best at mostly, I’d be happy at 120, but I don’t think that’s gonna be small enough. It’s not rly about numbers so much as aesthetics for me)

2. I’m 5’9. Yes, I like my height, but a lot of the dudes where I live say I’m way too tall to be attractive. No taste.

3.

I like her slender and elegant body, but she still looks strong enough to seriously injure a misogynist lol.

4. I’m scared my hair will fall out, which is important since I’m queer and all the homosexuals like fluffy hair. I’m scared about loose skin cause I have a high sw. I’m scared I won’t be strong anymore, which is smthn I take great pride in, and I’m scared about brain fog cause my grades are super important to me.

5. I’m losing weight because I want to be beautiful, and I want to be able to have a shot at the ballet industry. I think I’m doing it mostly for me, but a lot of it is for social acceptance.

6. I binge rly bad. I think it’s because healthy food takes forever to prepare, but also, I’ve been diagnosed with BED.

7. The know I’m trying to lose weight, but they don’t know I’m Ana.

8. I don’t actually do a specific one atm. I burn about 3500 kcals by just existing, cause im a rly active person. I want to start tho, cause ballets off rn. Comment any ideas that you think I should try!!!

9. No, not really.

10. Sugar and carbs. They’re sooo addictive lol.

11. Right now this second it’s @hellokittybubble, because I saw a list of tips on their page. Idk if it was theirs originally, but they have a lot of good stuff on their blog lol.

12. Mostly I just binge honestly. But when I’m actually doing good I eat fruit and fiber 1 bars lol.

13. A mix honestly lol

14. My ugw is somewhere at a weight I feel hot at. It’ll probably be around 115 I think. I’m planning on reaching it by this time next year.

15. I’m not either cause my family rly like meat. I’d love to go vegan someday tho, not just for the weightloss benefits lol, I rly care about animals

16. I’ve wanted to lose weight since I was about 10

17. I’ve been diagnosed with BED and body dysmorphia. I think I’m ana, but I don’t have a medical diagnosis

18. My biggest weakness is mac n cheese or ice cream lol.

19. The last time I ate fast food was a couple months ago, which is pretty good considering I work at a fast food place

20. Im doing the abc at the moment with one of my buddies ( dm me if u want to be buddies, I like friends!!!). It’s going pretty well. I honestly absolutely love all those themed diets tho. It’s so cute.

21. Fun question. I wear a large if we’re being technical lol. Me personally, the bigger the better tho. I will wear 3x and no one can stop me. I want to be able to fit an xs.

22. I don’t rly have a lowest weight, I’ve always been kinda fat.

23. Yes and no. I wanted to be muscular for a long time so that I could look like black widow, but I can’t look like her and do ballet. Her story was DEEPLY inaccurate lol. She’s still beautiful and my role model tho.

24. I don’t rly have opinions on them. I’m using the tags for this so I guess I like them.

25. I’ve tried to purge a bunch of times, starting when I was about 12. Ya gorl ain’t got a gag reflex tho lol.

26. Being beautiful and feeling good in my skin

27. Mostly I binge a lot lol. But when I do stay strong, grosspo and fantasizing about the future of being skinny helps a LOT

28. Sort of, but it’s not totally necessary for me, I mostly want a tiny stomach and waist and arms.

29. For everyone else, beauty comes from within, for me, beauty is being perfect.

30. 1. I was homeschooled for the first 16 years of my life 2. I want to be a tattoo artist and piercer or an esthetician OR something to do with film when I grow up, 3. I’m sick rn 4. I’ve been in ballet since I was six, 5. I was the first female wrestler at my highschool, but I got kicked off after 3 days cause of something to do with homeschooling lol, 6. I have orange hair, 7. I love art, 8. I’m obsessed with the pirate core aesthetic and dream of dressing like that irl someday, 9. I’m in theatre (shocking I know) 10. I’m a makeup addict

Sorry if it kinda sucks lol, I was rly bored and there’s no way I could remember to do it 30 days in a row. If anyone wants a friend pls dm me!!! I’m down to talk about pretty much anything even tho this is a pr0 Ana blog!!

Blessed be

[truitt-story]

Breaking Ranks | Self Para

Date: October 2024 Featuring: Nora, The Bridesmaids For Context: It's So Confusing to Be a Girl Warnings: Complicated feelings around clothing/gender/sexuality

A crucial part of the wedding planning process hits a snag...

"Sooo, did anyone's dresses come in yet?" Nora said, eyes sparkling like she was a kid on Christmas waiting to open her gifts.

Tiana, for the record, still felt conflicted about being here after her conversation with Vixey. But with everything so precarious lately, she had also sort of bought into the idea that they just needed to get through the wedding and they could figure everything else out afterward. Al just seemed so excited about getting married, about being a husband, about being a dad, even...

He had to have a perfect wedding day. Everything else could come after.

So yeah, Tiana was here at the hen party, the current stage of which was a trendy tapas bar in NTO. Cooing over dresses. With Nora. It wasn't like she didn't like dresses, after all, and each of the mix-and-match styles that the other girls showed off. It was kind of the Nora of it all that was the problem. And the way she kept conveniently leaving the only seat open next to Violet, like this was some fucked up game of Gay Microaggression Musical Chairs.

"What about you, Tiana?" Nora asked once just about everyone else had shown off their dress.

Tiana, quite honestly, had thought she was exempt from this conversation. She'd mentioned to Nora before (albeit out of context) that she didn't like dresses and tried to avoid them if she could help it. And Nora had told her she thought that was really chic and modern of her, that she always wore jumpsuits and blazers to black-tie events. So... Tiana had figured it would be fine.

"Oh, uh, I was gonna order from another site. They didn't have a pants option, but I figure I can probably find somewhere with a similar fabric..." Tiana trailed off when she saw that Nora looked, suddenly, very panicked.

Oh no. Ohhh, this was a really bad look on her face. And Tiana could tell Nadine had seen it, too. In fact, everyone had, and suddenly it occurred to Tiana that she'd broken the cardinal rule of hen parties: Thou Shall Not Cause Problems For The Bride, She Has Enough On Her Plate As It Is.

Tiana just hadn't realized that this would be a problem.

Nora laughed nervously. "Well, if it's all gonna look even, you have to order from the site," she said. "It's, like, their own special fabric they use. You probably can't find it anywhere else. You really didn't like any of the options?"

Now it was Tiana's turn to chuckle, uncomfortable. "Uh, I just don't really do dresses..." she explained. "But hey, uh, worst-case scenario, I'll just go with what the guys are wearing, right?"

Tiana had thought the lighthearted comment (which she also thought was a decent idea, all things considered) would lighten the mood. But Nora just looked horrified.

"Well- no," she said, looking like she was trying very hard to keep it together. "Look, it's just one night, right? Is it really that big of a deal?"

Tiana looked around at all of the faces staring at her over their plates of ham and olives and glasses of wine, and suddenly it wasn't funny-awkward anymore. It was just straight-up uncomfortable. Like she was another problem that had suddenly arisen too close to the wedding.

And she wished she didn't have to be a problem. But Tiana didn't know how to explain it, just how wrong she felt in a dress. When she had first come out, Tiana had felt like she could finally stop looking over her shoulder, wondering if people were judging if she was adequately doing the Being A Girl thing right. She was a girl, she was pretty sure, she did like that word and most of the associations with it— but there was something freeing about being able to totally reject the conventions of gender and sexuality at the same time she was figuring her own out. So Tiana had stopped wearing dresses and makeup, had cut her hair short, had gone to prom in a suit and felt really herself for the first time.

Nowadays, Tiana's relationship with traditional ideas of femininity was a bit more like filling up a plate from a charcuterie board. She picked some things she liked, and left behind the things she didn't. Dresses fell squarely in the latter category. And putting one on, even for one night, even for Al's wedding... it just felt to Tiana like she was back to hiding a part of herself all over again. Like she was back in the earliest years of secondary school again.

"I- uh, maybe we should sidebar. Another time," Tiana said, her eyes darting around nervously. "Sorry. Didn't realize it would be, uh..."

She gestured vaguely. The conversation moved on. Tiana didn't say much. She still felt like she was under a spotlight, melting from the heat of it.

Nadine cornered Tiana later, as Nora and Nancy belted out some ABBA tunes on the stage at karaoke.

"Hey," Nadine said, glancing furtively at the stage. "I think we should talk."

Never really a good thing to hear from the Maid of Honor. But as embarrassed as Tiana was about the way things had gone down earlier, she still wasn't gonna do it. She just couldn't. Surely Nora could understand that...

Well, maybe she couldn't. Tiana was just hoping she'd be flexible anyway.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Tiana said, which earned a brief look of relief on Nadine's face, until Tiana continued. "I guess that wasn't the right time for that conversation. But I stand by what I said. I mean, honestly, I don't think it's that big of a deal, if I just wear a jumpsuit..."

"It's what Nora wants, Tiana. And it's her big day. I really think we should all respect that, you know? And if you can't..." Nadine sighed. "I don't know, I just wonder if you really knew what you signed up for? I mean, it's kind of common sense to me..."

When Tiana glanced over her shoulder, she could see more eyes on her. And dress or not, she was back in those early days of teenagerhood, when she'd felt constantly like she was performing something— and doing it badly.

"I'm not doing this to be difficult," Tiana said. "I just genuinely can't-"

"Then... I don't know, Tiana. Maybe you should reevaluate some things."

Tiana blinked, stunned. Was she really being kicked out of the bridal party by the Maid of Honor? Was that even her call to make?

No, it probably wasn't. But Tiana was almost thirty. She'd worked in the restaurant industry all her life. She absolutely knew the gentle art of Making Someone Want To Leave If You Can't Kick Them Out Yourself.

Al wouldn't make her wear a dress. Tiana knew he wouldn't. And if she brought this up to him, she knew he'd defend her... but was it worth it to cause problems between Al and Nora so close to the big day? In most situations, Tiana was loud and vocal in how she stood up for herself and what she believed in. But right now, it seemed best to take the path of least resistance.

The one she could stomach, at least.

"Wow. Okay," Tiana finally said. "Alright. Well, I guess I'll talk to Nora-"

"After this weekend is over," Nadine said, her eyes narrowing. "Don't ruin her night. If you wanna get an Uber now, I can tell her you weren't feeling well."

And then she was back to her placid Maid Of Honor Smile. Like she was doing Tiana a favor.

Yeah, Tiana really needed to get out of here.

"Alright. Thanks." Tiana barely tried to make it sound sincere. "Y'all have fun tonight, alright?"

The whole Uber ride back, Tiana went back and forth. Was it worth it? Just because of a dress?

But it wasn't just because of a dress. Tiana knew that. She'd already been uncomfortable with this whole thing long before it was about a dress, when it was even just about not getting to be on Al's side simply because she was a woman, and then Vixey not being a part of this, and then the general uncomfortable feeling of being an outsider every time they got together. This was kind of the final straw, wasn't it?

She felt guilty. And she hated that, because Tiana thought she was past the point of apologizing for who she was. And she knew Al would understand if she ever explained it to him. But right now, she just didn't feel she could.

Tiana pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the car window and willed the wine headache that was setting in to go away. But it pressed on, persistent as the images in her mind from the night. She just hoped she was making the right choice.

[astingliamberry]

University Talk

Looking at University has always been a bit of a struggle with me, I never knew what I wanted to do, and I found difficulty when it came to what exact course I would like to study. I wanted to do something similar to the course I am currently on and writing this for. I wanted to do something to do with model making even maybe prop making for movies and tv shows. I really love the idea of making realistic models for a living, this is something I have recently fell in love with but I fell in love hard. After making that really cool mountain model a year ago, the dry brushing the painting it was just so perfect. I couldn't believe I made something so cool, I was so shocked that I could create something so realistic so easily. I liked drawing but it didn't feel like me anymore, it felt like I was doing it for someone else. Making a model felt like something I was doing for me. Back on track to university talk.

A person came in to tell us about UAL a university of 6 collages of different category's of creative courses. There's buildings all based around fashion, graphic design and more! She went on about the kind of courses each building has by listing and talking about what courses are available for people to take and what they entail. Like if you were doing graphic design they had multiple courses focusing on specific graphic design like climate graphic design which specifically is graphic design for social issues like climate change, the healthcare system and anything like the trans healthcare system too. I really like this course and have been considering it a lot. It was only mentioned because I asked about the difference between graphic design and graphic communication. The difference between the two is that graphic communication is more worrying about the communication that the artwork brings across like the message its supposed to bring. Graphic design is about creating things for graphics like making a font or something similar like making a simple illustration of a person. I did graphic design in high school as well as art and I loved it. It was a load of effort and very hard but I loved it. I loved both courses that I went out my way to do at the same time because I was creative in both ways. The graphic design course had no women on it, only cis men and me a trans man. I was isolated but god it was worth it learning everything I did. The art class was a good mix even though I had a run in with my teacher being transphobic I had a good time and I learnt a lot. She may have gotten herself fired but I still learned an unbelievable amount. I love both things and I want to learn both but for university I have to choose between model making and graphic design. I wrote a few notes on it so I could look back at it later. I wrote down a course called graphic media design that seemed to have a bit of both when she explained it.

She talked about student finance, apparently the debt isn't as hard hitting as its described in media. People go on and on about how painful student debt is but they probably are basing this on American student debt which is criminal how much they expect you to pay. In comparison to the amount that you pay for british university. I want to do university because I want to experience something like this, a university sounds like such a fun and educational experience. I honestly don't care if they are skimming off the top of my wage a little bit if it means I get to experience university and all it has to offer.

I also like the idea of living in a big town, living in a small town as a trans man is hard. Not everyone understands you so they turn to hate, and due to Rishi Sunak it has become a safe space for transphobia because they can say: "The prime minister said it was ok and so did Elon Musk so it must be ok." But unrelated, I just want to move to a big town where I can blend in to the crowd of other people who are experimenting with their gender identity. I am a wear London is very expensive but the salary lines up with the cost of living so, I will happily move there when I get the chance. I keep thinking about my life in dorms and my life as a university student and I just love it, I love the idea of making art for a living and maybe I will discover what job I exactly want to do. I keep mixing between all different kinds of jobs and deciding what ones I want to do and the idea of freedom with a safety net is pretty cool.