#whyyyy does this chapter suck so much

[itstimeforstarwars]

After writing the first scene in the next chapter, I wrote down three things that I needed to put in the scene. I now have four more pages of this scene but none of the three things have made it in.

[asumofwords]

TEE... This last chapter just-

Whyyyy does Aemond have to ruin shit for himself?! He's so good at that, too good at that... almost like he has a kink for it 🤔

For real though when I read him flying across the table to give Aegon a right beating I lost it 😭 Fuck him UP bbgirl YEEESSS!!! I can't stand his ass, tbh both of their asses.

Also THAT ENDING THO?!?! HatefuckHatefuckHatefuck not that I'm interested in that or anything 👀👁🫦👁 The idea of Aemond letting reader be a little dominant and blow off some steam is hawt as fuuuuck 😩

✨️Thank you ✨️

For blessing our Tumblr with these updates! I hope you're relaxing and not rushing for us, your writing is one of the best I've ever read in all my fanfic years and sucked me write out of my 8 year dry spell 🥹 Take your time! Hydrate or diedrate and have an awesome week 💙

Aemond is a glutton for punishment honest to god

Aemond launching himself across the table to bash his brother got us all hot and heavy 😭

We all want dominant reader COME ON BABYYYYY

Omg thank you so so so much 🥺🥺🥺 you are so lovely and sweet! I am so happy that you’re reading and joining us along 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[aetheternity]

Whyyyy does the radish bitch get a second story quest before Venti? She just got here and she’s in more permanent content than any of the other archons: five archon quest acts and an interlude chapter and now two story quests!

People say that Venti doesn’t have a second quest because an archon’s second quest has always unlocked a second weekly boss for their nation and Mondstadt already has two. Side note, I don’t even understand why Lupus Boreas is a weekly boss and not a world boss. He’s insanely easy especially compared to the thunder manifestation and those two dragons from Enkonomiya. And he doesn’t have his own domain like all the other weekly bosses. It kind of feels like they were planning on just making him a world boss but changed their mind at the last moment for some reason. Anyway, I don’t see why Venti’s quest couldn’t just not feature a new boss. He’s already gone this long without a second quest, what’s one more deviation to the norm.

I’ve seen a handful of people theorize that his quest will unlock a weekly boss in Khanri’ah or Celestia or something. But I really don’t want to have to wait five or something years for the very end of the game for his quest. And even though story quests are permanent content, they still tend to be additional info to the main storyline. I don’t think they’d put something that important in a story quest. I do agree with a lot of people saying that since his quest has been delayed so long it must be because it has some some super important lore in it that we’re not supposed to know yet.

Although as time goes on, I’m becoming more and more doubtful that he’ll get a second story quest. There’s been nothing about it from Hoyoverse or from leaks. Waiting for something sucks. Waiting for something when you don’t know when it’s going to happen is torture. Waiting for something when you don’t know if it’s even going to happen at all can drive a person insane. At the bare minimum I just want a yes or no confirmation if it’s ever going to happen so I can know whether all this build up is worth it or if I should just give up on hoping.

You know what this ask just reminded me that a part of Mondstadt has yet to be opened up yet. The pier everyone keeps mentioning. I doubt it's gonna house a boss but who knows.

Also thank you! It doesn't make sense that fucking Nahida gets a second story quest before Venti this bitch just got here. Also I fucking called it, I said some time ago that I bet they were going to give Nahida a second story quest before Venti. They better give Venti a second story quest cause at this point it's not even funny anymore. Nahida has way too much screen time and so does almost every character from her nation.

At least if he isn't getting a second story quest give him a TCG card before all the other archons cause he deserves it. He's the first archon we meet first come first serve.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 28)

It's time!

The thing about star-crossed lovers is that no matter how romantic and epic their love is, eventually, it has to end tragically. NatsuMikan are cute and all, but all good things have to end. It's a good thing we knew this was gonna happen, so it won't affect us emotionally at all, right?

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty

The closer we get to 161, the more nervous I get. There’s really not much left of this story for Natsume. His days aren’t even numbered anymore.

It’s time for Reo’s concert and Natsume won’t live to see the sunrise.

Nobody does ride or die like them ;-;

Ruka urges Natsume not to leave his side for the whole night. Hotaru has been spying on and off, and knows that Reo is attempting to assassinate the ESP as well as the fact that Natsume is close to death. The hope now rests on Z succeeding with the attempt. If Z can kill the ESP then Natsume can survive and Mikan won’t have to live the rest of her life a mourning widow. Everyone’s goal for tonight is to prevent a martyr from being made yet again.

(But y’all can’t stop Natsume!)

Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four

Nothing went according to plan. The ESP was several steps ahead and the assassination attempt failed. As a result, chaos breaks out and there’s plenty of fighting going on. Natsume is a big concern to many people, because he’s now motivated to put matters into his own hands. Nobody else wants that. Ruka promises that he won’t leave Natsume’s side.

The teachers are also looking out for him, telling him to go rest because he’s exerted himself too much. They know simply telling him to stop probably won’t be enough, but they need to try everything they can to make him stand down, for his own sake.

They’re about to teleport the elementary schoolers away when Hotaru grabs Natsume to make him promise that he will be okay. She’s not personally invested in his safety, but she is interested in keeping Mikan happy, and losing Natsume is not conducive to that end. If he proves to her that he is willing to live for Mikan, then Hotaru will allow him to stay and fight the ESP.

I get that Hotaru trusts Natsume with Mikan’s safety, and wants him to swear that he won’t do something stupid like get himself killed, but those two are mutually exclusive at this point. If you want him to use his alice to a ridiculous extent in a very dangerous environment, there’s a very low chance the dying kid in class will come out of it alive.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHYYYY?

And of course he chooses to stay! He pushes Hotaru to take his place teleporting to safety and now Natsume, who is already at his limit, has only just started his battle. Is anyone really surprised that he ends up dead? He is twelve, making promises that he will live, because he really wants to, but the red flags are all there. He’s gonna die and it’s obvious. I doubt Hotaru really believes him, or that anyone does. But who better to protect Mikan than the boy who’s almost eager to kill himself for her?

Of course Ruka stays with him, intent on keeping his own promise to stay by his side the whole night. Hotaru thanks Natsume for staying and that’s that. He won’t make it out of this alive, no matter how desperately he wants to believe he can.

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty

The fight has only escalated. Both Natsume and Ruka are heavily scathed and wounded, leaning on each other for support. Their whole group, consisting of rogue teachers and overly friendly senpai, are on the hunt for the ESP. With Hotaru’s help, they are able to locate him and teleport right to him.

In the meantime, Luna is going to great lengths to suck the souls out of a massive amount of students. Mikan is being hunted by the ESP’s cronies and Fuukitai for using her stealing alice and thus violating her condition. Persona has betrayed the ESP and is now on Mikan’s side.

There’s simply too much building up. It’s difficult not to feel nervous as Natsume’s story moves to its inevitable conclusion.

They find the ESP and Natsume doesn’t hesitate before attacking him. Unfortunately, although he uses a massive amount of alice in one blow, the Z boss took the hit, shielding the ESP with his own body. It’s a major let down, because Natsume’s at the end of his rope. There’s not much else to hold onto and using much more will not pan out well.

But he’s still standing, still breathing. He’s okay. There’s a chance he can use another powerful blow and actually take out the ESP this time and make it out alive. He just needs to concentrate his efforts and maybe use the help of his friends. All together, they have a pretty good chance of defeating the ESP.

Except that Natsume is temporarily distracted by the obstacle of the Z boss getting in the way, so he doesn’t see the middle schooler controlled by Luna sneak up behind him.

*ben affleck smoking.jpeg*

He’s just been stabbed in the back.

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-One

Natsume has just been stabbed by a mind-controlled middle schooler. Some blood trickles out of his mouth and he stands in shock at his own predicament. Controlling his own sickness was one thing. That was something he could pretend he had a chance against. Maybe, if he really believed in himself, he’d make it out alive. He wouldn’t have long to live afterward, but he could maybe survive ‘til tomorrow.

But he’s been stabbed. He’s bleeding out, injured, and in horrible pain (even worse than usual). This was nothing he could have expected when he made all those promises to live. For all the concern about his alice-shape, who would have expected that what would finally take him down is one tiny knife?

Everyone watches in horror and shock, especially Ruka, as Natsume kneels down onto the floor. There’s something so heart-breaking about what little fuss he makes. He doesn’t make a production of it. He just gets on the floor, unable to stand anymore for how weak that stab made him. He’s been exerting himself all night and knives usually don’t energize people. He doesn’t scream or cry. He just sits on the floor, quickly surrounded by his teammates.

I hate that I had to revisit these chapters four times in the past couple weeks for this essay. I don't know if the toll on my mental health is worth it, tbh.

But he can’t even focus on his own injury, because the Z boss has just dissolved and left nothing but an alice stone behind, something the ESP absorbs. Now he’s stronger. Natsume just watches helplessly, even as the Fuukitai apprehend all his friends.

Natsume is left alone on the floor, with a stab wound in his back, watching the ESP grin at him.

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Two

Natsume is gripping his gashing wound, wheezing and suffering. The middle schooler who had stabbed him finally comes to, on account of Mikan, and is horrified to see what he has done.

Black and white is stark but imagine if this was animated in color and you could see the red. Wow.

But Natsume doesn’t have time for this (like. literally). He tells all the uninvolved and previously mind-controlled students to get out and assures them they’re not to blame for their actions. His injury doesn’t even matter. ‘Tis but a flesh wound, said Mercutio.

So Natsume starts again, using his fire alice against the ESP. In no time, it’s reckoned by the Fuukitai, he’ll be able to destroy the barrier that is protecting the ESP. When that happens, there will be nothing protecting him from Natsume’s flames.

Natsume tells Ruka to use the barrier alice stone inside of him and get everyone out safely, because in no time the building will be entirely on fire. Ruka doesn’t want to go without Natsume, but he simply can’t let himself go. Killing the ESP is simply too important. He wants to make sure it happens, because otherwise this hell will go on forever.

He's such an idiot. Anyway, in my perfect narrative, Ruka would never leave Natsume's side, not for all the fire in the world. Natsume isn't the only one who broke promises tonight.

Ruka again protests but Natsume cuts him off, claiming that he can’t die so he won’t. He seems convinced by his own will power. He doesn’t want to die, so he won’t. He hasn’t even seen Mikan again. He has to see her again before he dies, and since he hasn’t seen her, he won’t die. Impenetrable logic, of course. He promises he’ll stay alive, as long as Ruka keeps his promise from Christmas night, of protecting Mikan in his stead.

Natsume is weak. He can keep the fire going, but he’s losing control of it and can’t keep it from attacking his friends for long. As the flames go wild, the rest of the group has to move fast. They have no choice but to evacuate, and Tsubasa takes Ruka with him outside. Tsubasa swears they will return for Natsume, but he could care less at this point.

All he cares about is that if he’s going down, the horrible little weasel man who caused his fiancée so much suffering will go down with him.

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Three

The building is on fire. Natsume is entirely collapsed, simply watching in disdain as his flames eat away at the ESP’s barrier. It’s too late for him to give up. He has to keep fighting, or else this will all have been for nothing. He’s winning, after all.

Natsume can feel his alice burning away. The thing about his alice shape is that as his alice runs out, so does his life. He’s seconds away from drifting toward the bright light, and he contemplates his life.

It would be nice to think that maybe now he would cry. After all, he’s about to die. He knows he will. He’s thinking about his mother and how much it pained her that he ended up inheriting her alice shape. And once the ESP is dead, he will be too. It’s enough to drive anyone to tears. But not Natsume.

The blood stain on his shirt, though...

He can’t regret it, he concludes. He met all his loved ones and can’t regret it. He met all his friends like all the Class B kids and even Tsubasa and Tono. He met people who loved and supported him, who wanted to celebrate his birthday to show him how much he meant to them. He met people he could learn to play new instruments with, who wanted to be his friends because they saw something magnetic and beautiful in him that he still can’t fully comprehend. He met Ruka, who only ever wanted to be his support-system, who followed him to the edge of the Earth and would even jump over it with him. Who never gave up on him, even when things turned too dark to see. Who was a true friend and never fought or turned against him, not even when they liked the same girl, not even when Natsume was being difficult. He stood by him all along, and he would probably have stayed now, if Tsubasa hadn’t dragged him away.

And he met Mikan, who saw a future for him when all he saw was a tombstone, who thought his life had value simply because he was alive and not because he did anything grand or gentle, because he hadn’t. Who saw through all the forced cruelty and teasing and saw someone kind and loveable and then did love him. Who smiled and gave him her heart because she trusted him with it, who promised him forever if only he would do the same.

How can he regret doing everything he can to protect these people? His purpose has always been to protect, and now he’s doing it in the most ultimate way. Ultimate, as in supreme and most grand. Ultimate, as in final.

Natsume is losing grip on life, and he lets go of the stone he’s been clutching, Mikan’s heart.

His last thought is about Mikan’s smile, about how she was his ray of hope, his sunshine.

But ‘til the very end he doesn’t actually surrender to the idea that he’s done for. He isn’t breaking any promises on purpose, and he never intended on breaking them when he made them.

When he was first kidnapped by Reo, he had given up from the beginning. He didn’t think there was any chance he could make it out alive. He conceded easily, submitted to the idea that he was going to die before the night was over. He did his job, protecting his classmates, and then prepared to take his own life. He didn’t see the hope, the way he could make it, the future he was still owed. But Mikan came and showed him what he’d been missing, that there was a chance and many days to come for him, that there was a way out.

Another aspect of star-crossed lovers that makes this all so frustrating is timing. Pyramus came upon a lion with blood in its mouth and assumed Thisbe had been slaughtered, so he kills himself. Thisbe arrives too late to stop him, and only finds him when he's already dead. Juliet arrives after Romeo has died, too late to show him that she's alive. And Mikan arrives too late to save Natsume. They are always missing each other by a moment.

And now Natsume can’t give up hope, even if there isn’t any. Not even getting stabbed is enough to convince him, not even losing all his strength or feeling himself slip away. He’s had the pleasure of knowing and loving Mikan and that wins over everything. He won’t die, he says to himself, over and over again, because this time he has hope.

He’s doing this all for her, always for her, from the very start. He’d pretend he hated her to protect her. He’d cut himself off and distance himself and seem like the biggest asshole in the world if it kept her safe. He shielded her with his body, used massive amounts of alice and rebelled against the school knowing he was just one kid against an army of adults and he didn’t even blink an eye. It was all for her, so why shouldn’t he be lying on the floor for her too, giving her his very last breath?

It’s a fitting end, to die like Romeo, to go from a child embittered with hatred to one so full of love it kills him.

And it does.

It does.

Conclusion

We've come a long way since we met Natsume, but he's come a longer way. He was a cold, hopeless, miserable child living a dark and bitter life, but over time he learned to see the beauty and hope in life. Unfortunately, for all the lessons he learned, the one he needed to learn the most was that sacrifice is not the only way to show love.

Should he have obeyed Hotaru's request to stay behind? Should he have refused to go with Ruka? He's always been sure that the good thing and right thing for him to do is the selfless thing, and although he can't regret it, I wish he did. What I want for his future is for him to love himself, to see value in his own existence without at all thinking about what he can do for people. He should have worth and value simply for being Natsume, not for being Natsume the Martyr.

Sorry, what future? He's dead.

<- Previous Next ->

[lokisprettygirl]

ALRIGHT IM BACK!!! And Oh my god oh my god OH MY GOD tell me why all of that was SO HOT 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

First things first, why is Thor such a nosey Nelly? I swear all he does is push in where he’s not wanted??? He’s toxic for that and I’m NOT here for it. It’s giving petty revenge on his end, and I feel like if he wants revenge for something, he’s gonna need to do more than STALKING Y/N to tell her about some secret 🙄🙄🙄 LIKE PUT IN SOME EFFORT THOR IF YOURE GONNA BE THIS DEDICATED smh.

Now onto the GOOD STUFF!!! You know me, I love some good communication between a couple and BOY DID THIS DELIVER!!! It was hot, it was sexy!! Was it healthy? Kind of, but what’s more important is that it was HOT. Call me crazy, but that is MY kind of communication😩😩😩 I stg if I was in that situation I would ABSOLUTELY DO THE SAME THING!! I’m so jealous of y/n because where does a man like that exist??? I think you and I are going to have to go on a quest together to find these men 🤪 it’s what we deserve 😌💅

Now going back to my previous comment, I’m suspecting that Jack DID cheat on y/n with Tonya, specifically because of the comment she made about how y/n was bad in bed. The only other person who has said this is JACK THE JACKASS!!! Jack is a whore in all the worst ways, Tonya is a loser in all the worst ways, and y/n is WAY BETTER OFF WITHOUT EITHER OF THEM.

In other news, unfortunately things are complicated between myself and 6’2 boy. He was texting me today asking to hangout 😏😏😏 I said “awesome I shall be making brownies 🥰”(which is true!!! I make REALLY good brownies!), he doesn’t text back for an HOUR, so I text him “wait did you wanna hangout or did I misread the situation lolz” and he texts back “my b, got too comfy so I will pass for tonight haha” like what? It’s literally only 7:30 pm right now? What a WEIRDO. Anyways tbh I’m mostly into him because he’s hot, it’s a good thing that I’m not like drop dead in love with him bc he’s giving SERIOUS Jack vibes right now 🙄🙄🙄 GOOD NEWS IS I know my worth!!! so if this doesn’t work out I’m going to continue to find my wrestler Loki 🥰

ONCE AGAIN, your story is wonderful!!! I’m addicted to HMBOMT and I am PROUD OF IT!!! 💚💚💚💚💚💚

Warmest Regards,

5’2 reader who knows that SHES A CATCH!!!💖

Ahhh you make me so happy ❤️💚. Honestly I was getting worried about this chapter because I didn't get much feedback (not like on other chapters, so I was like hmm did it suck ? I'm sorry I have birdy vibes where I'm never assured 😅)

Thor is still a mystery but we will learn more about him soon.

Ahhh i love how they communicate as well 🥵 The constant back and forth is nice too, like when one of them gives up other one keep their ego aside and come forward to sort it out.

I'm jealous of birdy too. Men like him would exist if they were written by women like us 😭❤️💚 but there are some out there I swear. We just have to be patient and wait for our own slightly deranged soft protective sexy as hell wrestler loki 🥵

Y/n will find out soon whether they did it or not And i agree now that she have the rare diamond wrapped around her fingers, she needs to forget about the fleck of dust aka Jack. It's not easy considering the length of their relationship but come on I mean look how majestic your new beau is birdy

Now coming back to 6'2 hottie, that's so disappointing that he cancelled on you like that. I would never understand that typical male behaviour. Like Whyyyy you gotta ruin a good thing from developing? I hate that he's giving off jack vibes 🥺 Buttt im so happy you know your worth and you'll definitely find your wrestler loki if he's not the one.

I can tell you're a firecracker so stay that way 🤗❤️💚

[merefactsandlogic]

Fic Asks

@szonklin went totally crazy here.  It’s okay, I still love you. :P 1. What was the first fandom you got involved in? Harry Potter!  I was maybe...10 or 11, and I wrote the most terrible semi-self insert fic.  Oh little me...it gets better. 8. How did you get involved in your latest fandom? So the latest one I write in is The Halcyon...I was so down about the lack of closure (whyyyy did it have to be canceled?) that I went right to AO3 and read every fic under the Toby/Adil tag.  The latest one I’ve been reading in is Tarot Sequence.  That was me just wanting more. 9. What are the best things about your current fandom? I love the people in the Halcyon fandom.  We’re small in numbers, but everyone is so wonderful and supportive, and a lot of us have become friends outside of just the fandom, which is super cool. 10. Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in? Yes!  Right now, I regularly read from Song of Achilles, Whyborne & Griffin, and Tarot Sequence. 12. Who is your current OT3? I don’t think I really have one. :/ 13. Any NoTPs? Rune and Brand from Tarot Sequence (they’re going to pop up a couple more times).  Their relationship is so not romantic for me that I actually fear the writer is going to put them together. 14. Who are your BroTPs? Toby and Joe from Halcyon (I think I have @szonklin to blame for me loving them having that sort of relationship), Rune and Brand from Tarot Sequence, Whyborne and Christine from Whyborne & Griffin (I know Christine is a woman, but it makes sense, okay?). 15. Is there an obscure ship which you love? Anthony Farr and Jacob Durfree from Whyborne & Griffin. 16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike? I guess Emma and Joe might fit here?  But not really?  There’s definitely stuff in fandoms that I won’t read (like Rune and Brand up there), so I think I just try not to think about it too much. 17. Who was your first OTP and are they still your favourite? Lily and James from Harry Potter.  I had this epic L&J fanfic that I let people read when I was like...11 or 12?  I still have a copy of it (which I never finished, of course) hidden somewhere in my room.  It’s so cringy, but maybe I should look at it for nostalgia.  I wouldn’t say they’re still my favorite, but Marauder era is still fun. 19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them? Rune and Brand (I told you they’d be popping up).  I can see why people ship them, but it just feels weird to me.  They’ve even explained their relationships as “brothers” in the book.  But the series pulls lots of weird stuff.  I’ve considered giving them a chance, but then it just doesn’t happen. 20. Any ships which you surprised yourself by liking? Not that I can think of. 23. Name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of & explain why you like it. I’m really enjoying my current major WIP As Time Goes By.  It was inspired by a Tweet from one of the Halcyon’s writers that Toby and Adil live to get gay married (paraphrased XD), so I’m taking it decade by decade.  I’m a sucker for happy endings, and writing a gay couple into their 90s that live to get married is the ultimate happy ending as far as I’m concerned. 25. What’s your most popular fanfic? In The Aftermath has the most kudos (76).  The Challenge has the most comments (111). 26. How do you come up with your fanfic titles? I just try to throw words together that I think will best sum up what I’m writing. 28. If someone were to draw a piece of fanart for your story, which story would it be and what would the picture be of? I would love a picture of Toby and Adil dancing in Toby’s room from One More Dance. 31. What’s the nicest thing someone has ever said about your writing? Uhh...I don’t know?  People are always saying things about my writing that really touch me, so I don’t think I could pinpoint just one thing. 32. Do you listen to music when you write or does music inspire you? Sometimes I listen to music when I write.  I actually have specific bands for some characters that I listen to both when I’m writing or need the inspiration for those characters.  But sometimes I need silence, and sometimes I just need a general mix. 39. What is you greatest strength as a writer? I’m really good at descriptions.  And emotions.  I’m a very emotional person, and I think I excel at that. 40. What do you struggle the most with in your writing? I think it’s more about how I feel as a writer presenting my work.  I doubt myself a lot (@szonklin can attest to that one, with all the chapters I’ve sent her that say “I’m pretty sure this chapter sucks”), and I know I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. 46. If someone was to read one of your fanfics, which fic would you recommend to them and why? In The Aftermath.  I think I did a really great job with Toby and Adil being apart, and then finding each other again.  I don’t really think they would have been able to just make up after how the show ends, and I think my thoughts on them needing time but ultimately needing each other show through really well in that fic. 48. Do you leave reviews when you read fanfiction? Why/Why not?  Just in Halcyon.  I think I’m a little shy when it comes to other fandoms (which doesn’t make much sense, but whatever).  I think a big thing in Song of Achilles is that the fandom is so big, I find it very intimidating, though that’s the only fandom I read in that has that problem.  I’m not sure what it is with the other ones. 50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction? I couldn’t even tell you, that was so long ago.  I think I just so wanted to be a part of that world (Harry Potter) and fanfiction was how I got to that place. 51. Rant or Gush about one thing you love or hate in the world of fanfiction! I’ve read and written fanfiction for so many fandoms over the years, and I love the feeling I get when I get to add things to a fandom.  It’s like getting to be a part of things!  And it can do things like bring closure (in the case of Halcyon) or extend the world just a bit longer (in the case of things like Whyborne & Griffin) or have fun theories presented (like Tarot Sequence, since the series is far from over).  There’s just so much you can do with it all, and I love seeing into people’s brains about things I love!  Fanfiction is a wonderful outlet, and I’m so happy to be a part of things that way. There, @szonklin...I did it!

[esseastri]

Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 7)

blerg, I wanted to hit page 500 in the last chunk o’ liveblog, but alas. We continue on. This book is just too dense, the liveblog posts are too long and I will continue to mention that in every one of these posts, ‘cause it’s wild just how much is in here!

Part 7 encompasses pages 476-557 (previous parts)

OOOOOOOH JASNAH POV!!!!

hey, her art bubble is the old Shallan art bubble. that’s...boring. why doesn’t she get her own?

I’m emotional about Taln forever and ever

Jasnah being paranoid about her safety and assassins and stuffing her ventilation shaft with cloths is...so... You don’t expect Jasnah to be scared, but here she is. It makes perfect sense--she got stabbed through the chest, of course she’s scared--but she’s so poised and in control, you just don’t expect it.

OMG Jasnah had back up files of her notes!!! That’s brilliant.

spanreeds are so cool

do we know which type of spren Ivory is? if we do I don’t remember.

just keep reading, Megan, they’ll tell you. Inkspren. ...of course.

also, I’d been wondering how Jasnah was “broken”--since all the Radiants are--and somehow I never expected childhood illness. that’s a logical breaking point, but I never even thought of it.

THERE WAS A JASNAH AND HOID’S MOST EXCELLENT ADVENTURE!!! THERE WAS!!! I’VE BEEN ROBBED!!!

but also, wtf did she learn, what did she learn from him. I’m guessing it’s the same thing the Stormfather refused to tell Dalinar... about all ten orders returning.

god, I really, really hope that my theory about them replacing the Heralds is wrong. I don’t want that. ..

(It’s a good theory though; the first new members of the ten orders all make a new Oathpact at the end of the fifth book. the back five are about their first time breaking and the first Desolation post-this one. It’s awful and I don’t want it, but you gotta admit, it’s an interesting theory, at least in a meta way.)

also I’m sad no one likes the honorspren. Syl is such a good. then again, she’s different than her peeps, she always says.

gaahhh, the Moash chapters are killing me every time I see that patchless shoulder I just die a lil bit inside

“Compared to bridge duty, this was paradise.” I’M CRYING??? This is so, so much the ‘I did that, so I can survive anything’ mentality and I’m cry.

okay, but can all of the Fused use all of the Surges? or do they all do different things? Do they have the equivalent of radiant orders?

(I’m going to be so excited if Moash gets a spren, but I feel like he maybe has to take responsibility for his actions first...)

aaahh Moash is taking the Kaladin route of “I don’t care about these people but storm it, I’m helping them anyway”.

OH SHIT Those are the ones who Kaladin helped, aren’t they... they brought “a false god” that was Kaladin shit shit shit they are getting punished for him. He would die if he knew, oh god.

AAAHH MOASH IS A GOOD “You’re becoming like us” Ohhhh goooddd yep. yep. wow. Be better. Do better. The theme of this book, and I love it. I LOVE MOASH AAHHH

punk!Dalinar not being allowed to fight is wild.

OOOHH THEY DIDN’T TELL HIM HE’S BEEN HURTING PEOPLE?? WHY!!!!?? YOU GOTTA TELL HIM HE’S DESTROYING PEOPLE’S LIVES BY BEING A BLACKOUT DRUNK AND FIGHTING PEOPLE

THAT’S NOT A GOOD THING AND HE SHOULD KNOW THAT

his name means “born unto light” oh my god that’s delightful oh my god

ohno. you should not send Dalinar back to war, u should keep him at home and maybe find him a therapist to talk to him about the Thrill...

FLYING KHOLINS AHOY!!

“something profoundly disconcerting about being out on the ocean” disconcerting? You’ve misspelled exciting.

They are holding hands while flying that’s adorable

I love that it’s “Elhokar’s team” when we all know Kaladin will end up in charge, much to Adolin’s chagrin...

No comment on what Dalinar’s hair looks like all windswept, obviously that means he’s been windswept into full greaser-style pompadour.

“shellheads” really? wtf. you didn’t call them that before. it’s only after they gain sentience that you give them derogatory nicknames?

High King Dalinar founding his own kingdom is wild to think about...

All of Navani’s scribes and engineers are so excitable. I love it.

Dalinar sneaking about without guards is nervewracking. Pls be safe, buddy.

“what else were important lighteyes going to do with unmotivated children?” Uuh...motivate them? Don’t just throw them aside to the church and expect them to drain resources by doing nothing for the rest of their lives? Find some way for them to be productive members of society? Why is this such a hard concept?

Fucking lighteyes

“He was RURAL Alethi he CAN’T be a HERALD” fuck off, Kadash. Kaladin is from a backwater and he’s a Radiant. And Taln wasn’t a king. We know this.

“No spiritual basis for rule” seems like a good thing to me...separation fo church and state and all that...

Something I’m not surprised that Vorinism sucks ass at caring for the mentally ill...

Yeah, ok, but who cut Taln’s wall from the outside? one of the other Heralds? Someone who still has their honorblade? Or some...Diagram/Ghostblood/SonofHonor mofo who realized before we did that Taln is a Herald? I’M CONCERNED FOR MY ANCIENT BROKEN SON

“Lately, he didn’t much like himself.” Noooooo, Moaaaashhh!! I still like you! A lot!!!

I am absolutely delighted that the Fused point their toes when they are flying. My synchronized swimming ass is just...DELIGHTED

“You don’t farm an apocalypse.” heheheh

The tavern is called the Fallen Tower? really? Dalinar’s army fell at the Tower... and Bridge Four saved them. really.

omg noooo noooooooooo no

nooo

nooooooooo

that’s

a lumberyard. and

ladderruns. that’s the same damn thing oh god

no, I don’t want this.

Let Moash Live 2k17

There’s a weird trend of swapping PoVs in the middle of a chapter. I’m not used to it.

“They acted like they owned her already.” I mean...they kinda do, Shallan. You kinda fucked up with them.

“without her having to remain at the meeting” hon, you are needed at the meetings for reasons other than your mapmaking skills??

“I am my own woman” teeeechnically, you’re...what, Taravangian’s subject now? Right, he’s in charge of Vedenar.

Evi deserves better than punk!Dalinar. Him yelling at her because she invaded his manly man-space is gross and he should stop

Navani just chilling with Evi and Ialai is wild. I legit can’t imagine them all getting along.

Also, I love that Renarin’s name is just a name. I love the convoluted meaning of nothing. it’s great.

Evi is a Good and she! deserves! better!

oh god babies

tiny, tiny babies

Evil flying chulls!! Tiny Adolin is too cute oh god

Just writing down that page 519 is the glyph alphabet. That’s important, you know. :)

NanKhet’s list of assassination attempts and then his like... banquet of executions. is some Greek mythology shit up in here. That’s #yikes

Pastry chef scholar man! I love it! I love that there aRE people in Vorin lands who don’t adhere to Vorinism’s gender roles, people who think gender roles are for squares.

Hello Darkness My Old Friend has waaay too many names. Nakku, Nalan, Nale. This is why I just still call him Hello Darkness.

“Did you misplace her?” One does not simply misplace Lift.

They keep talking about how Thaylen City was super wrecked by the Everstorm and that’s fair, but like...has anyone heard from Shin? Talk about being unprotected for a wrong-way highstorm...

Jasnah reflexively sucking in Stormlight the second Amaram appears in the doorway is Big Mood.

“Other than the fact that you are a detestable buffoon who acheives only the lowest level of mediocrity, as it is the best your limited mind can imagine? I can’t possibly think of a reason.” GOD FUCKING BLESS.

“Give me an excuse. I dare you.” BIGGEST MOOD EVER OH MY GOD

yeah, you run away. fucker.

“The Windrunner” “the flying bridgeman” “brightlord broodingeyes” HE HAS A NAME, LADIES. He has a name.

I’m super tired of everyone--especially Jasnah--underestimating and disregarding Renarin.

And then he goes and does COOL SHIT LIKE FIND THE RESONATING LIBRARY!!!!??

Also, Jasnah can infuse gems with light? wacky fun.

oohh LIghtweaving isn’t just light it’s “and various waveforms” Renarin’s LIghtweaving is super different from Shallan’s isn’t it!!? I can’t want to see MOAR SURGES

Nooooo, Moash.... you gotta do the Kaladin thing! You can’t let go! Look at you, you are already helping the people he helped. You can’t stop yourself any more than he could. You’re not here to let go. You’re here to remember how to care.

Moash bby, I know you are prone to stupid decisions, but please...please don’t do anything stupid...

.........like that.

okay, creepy flying in charge lady. is creepy.

Okay, teaching the parshmen how to spear is good? sort of? from a certain point of view.

Ooooh Rlain pov!!! That’s new and interesting.

you know why is he here? How did he not get eaten by the first Everstorm?

HECK YE ALL FIVE LADY SCOUT WINDRUNNER SQUIRES HEEECKKK YYESSSSS

THEMS MY GIRLS

“He loved them because they did try.” Aaaahhhhh

“That’s like...extra manly.” I’m not sure that’s how being gay works, but I’ma roll with it. :D

“I guess it’s just a thing men say. Can you tell me how it feels?” “I can try.” KALADIN IS A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND RLAIN IS ALSO A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND I’M EMOTIONAL

I am so glad they are Trying Together.

That is an interesting question...did the magic stagnate them? stop people from being interested in finding non-magic ways of doing things? not just steel, but like...idk, indoor plumbing and better ways of farming, or anything that a Soulcaster can do. Why would you need better ways when you have the magic way?

It’s a very Harry Potter Wizard Wolrd mentality, tbh.

Oh shit, the Recreance was 2k years AFTER the Heralds bugged out and broke the Oathpact? That’s a long time for them to keep going without their leaders? and then to suddenly stop after all that time? whyyyy

what did they learn? about their spren? Jasnah knows.

Oh no!!!

nooo

he can hear the spren dying!!!???? OH NOOO

OH SNAP

WHAT

WHAT

NO

UM??? WHAT

THE FUCK?

HOW DID HE HACK DALINAR’S VISION?? WHERE DID HE COME FROM? HOW DID HE GET HERE? HOW DANGEROUS IS HE IN THIS FORM? HOW IS HE HERE?

WHAT

IS

HAPPENING

god, how many times did Dalinar rely on the Thrill? that’s got to leave some kind of bond, some connection. Something Odium can exploit.

God, it’s still really weird to think of Odium--the bad guy--as light, gold, white. it’s refreshing, but also wtf

Ah, fuck off, you’re not a god. The Shardholders are not gods. They’re just dudes with extra powerful magic. Ask Sazed.

God, okay, the STormfather is so. scared. wtf.

Oooohh, he hasn’t gotten Cultivation yet. She’s hidden and he’s bound--not very well if he’s here now, but still.

Can she help us?

Why does he...have to kill people? Is it because he’s the avatar of hatred of something else?

...interesting. Passion.

..........interesting that the Thaylens worship the Passions.

Also, I resent that if he’s All Sorts of Emotion/Passion, there’s the implication that all emotion eventually leads to violence, and I RESENT THAT SO HARD

oh snap, Cultivation is the Nightwatcher? What? I did not expect that...

goes further to the None of the Three Shards Are Good or Bad

though Odium might be lying...

what the shit

was that the Odium hell planet?

Did....did Lift just... scare him away?

I’m increaingly thinking shes got a bit of Cultivation in her. She’s not just a kiddo, and not just a Radiant, there’s something funky going on with her, and I think it’s something powerful enough to scare Odium.. hm...

EEEEYYYYY END PART TWO!!!!!

eww gross, Taravangian AND Venli? Bad interludes are bad. Where’s Szeth? I miss him.

[dreamingoffairys]

True Beauty (Chapter 2)

AO3: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Yes, I know. What the fuck Ever? It’s been ages since you’ve posted anything! And wasn’t True Beauty just a oneshot? A oneshot you wrote like...a year ago?

Yes. I did write the original oneshot a year ago. Buuut then I got inspired and ran with it. I edited chapter one, by the way, so if you ever read the original oneshot, you should go click on the link above and re-read chapter one. The edits are super subtle, but important. And if you haven’t read chapter 1, you’re going to need to in order to understand this chapter.

(You can skip this author’s note if you want, but it’s pretty important explaining my intentions with this story. But I get it if you don’t wanna read all that, I’m rambly.)

I’ve had an idea in mind for a long time, and I decided to go for it. I've noticed there's a lot of stories, particularly in this fandom, that portray depression totally wrong. Now, it isn't necessarily the author's fault: depression is a hard thing to write and understand when you haven't experienced it yourself. That's part of why I've decided to write this story. I have depression and anxiety myself, and not only is this story a great coping method, it's also a way to show people who may not fully understand mental illness what it's like being in our heads. I also hope to portray how society treats mentally ill people: especially schools. I'm trying to show the signs you can look out for, how to help a mentally ill person, and how sometimes, people truly are oblivious.

Of course, this means this story is going to be a difficult read at times. The first scene in this chapter could be potentially very triggering, and perhaps there will be more scenes like this, or even more graphic scenes. I'm not going to sugarcoat anything. Things may not have gotten this bad for me, but I've seen it happen to many close to me. Too much media romanticizes mental illness, thinks that a relationship can cure it. News flash: people in relationships may be happier, but nothing can magically cure mental illness. It takes time, a lot of hard work, and potentially medication.

In summary, I'm trying to portray this as realistic as possible. This is a very extreme case, so not everyone who is mentally ill will act like Rogue does, but I figured after a chapter like the first, Rogue's situation is a difficult one. His actions also add to the common misconceptions that depressed people are just lazy or bad students.

I am not perfect in any means, there will likely be some inaccuracies or in some spots it'll be a bit dramatic. But that's to be expected, as no author can write something completely and totally flawless, no matter how informed they are.

Without further ado, Chapter Two of True Beauty: You're Proud, but I'm Getting Nowhere. I hope you enjoy.

WARNING: SELF HARM. SKIP THE FIRST SCENE IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A leaky faucet in a bathroom illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight spills icy cold onto pale skin, scratched like fragile porcelain. The clear purity is disrupted by crimson, the heat disrupting the flow of liquid cold, a dance of fire and ice. Only a hiss of recognition and the dripping of water from rusted pipes whispers through the silence of the night, so late that it was early, a cold dark silence that engulfs those inside it with an almost protective embrace.

A pure white sheet descends on stained silver, staining red until the sharp edge shines in the moonlight, reflecting the eyes of its owner, dark as the thick liquid that flows down his skin. The sheet falls into the still water encased in porcelain, only to be taken away in a swirling pattern, sucked out of sight with a single flush.

The deadly sharpness that glimmers with a strangely appealing beauty is hidden away, concealed by a zipper, then shoved behind piles of meaningless things humans insisted on pampering themselves with. Out of sight, out of mind...and yet, his fingers felt empty without it, twitching in the need to retrieve it again, to feel the weight of guilt and release in his palms, to feel it's sharpened edge bring him to actually  know  pain instead of remembering it.

As he slips out behind the closed door, minding the creaking hinge, the numbness is back, starting at his fingertips and spreading throughout his blood, not hot, not cold, not anything.

As his head hits the sunken, tear stained pillow, his fingers trace the fresh lines that pattern his skin, almost artistic against the paleness of his underarms, a little splash of color to give him  something  to look at, to remind himself he is still moving, that he can feel the slightest bit of something.

His battle scars. For the first time in the dead of night, the corner of his mouth twitches as if to smile. It did not come, only a single tear, but as he pulls black fabric over the visual pain, he does not feel shame, only exhaustion from today’s fight, the enemy he could not defeat. Tomorrow was a new fight, and he would be ready with words of steel and eyes of resolute determination. Tomorrow...is a new chance for renewal.

The day breaks and Sting Eucliffe is awake the moment the sun rises above the horizon, blue eyes wide and body filled with restless energy. He had a reason to dress up today, and a reason to be excited for school, which is a rarity saved for field trips and movie days, which happened maybe twice a semester.

He had a boyfriend.  It was something hard to believe or process, for their school is 97% straight and all of the gay guys are taken. Not only was he in a relationship now, but it was with Rogue. Rogue, whom he’d been crushing on since he’d found out his sexuality, although sometimes it seemed it was even before that. Rogue, who crinkles up his nose when he laughs, whose eyes smile when he scolds you for silly little things, whose laugh could make anyone’s little gay heart melt.

“Sting!” his mother calls from upstairs. “Are you dressed? Normally you’re down by now!”

Sting blinks rapidly and slowly comes to the realization that he’s been dazedly lying on the floor in his boxers daydreaming of Rogue for fifteen minutes. “Fuck whyyyy?!” he whines, cursing his sappy brain and climbing up off the carpet. “Coming Mum!”

He throws on a pink t-shirt, white shorts, his converse, and slides two hair-clips into his hair. By “dress-up” he simply meant wear clothes that showed himself off, like the tightness of this shirt and pants, and then the hair clips for a bit of a cute flare. He skips down the stairs and screeches into the kitchen, taking the wheat toast with butter and cinnamon sugar from his mother’s hands. “Thanks Mum!” he beams.

She chuckles happily as he devours it down, moving to move her husband’s dishes into the sink. “You’re awfully cheerful today.” She smiles at the hairclips, adding, “And you’re dressed all cute… Hmm…” She puts on a fake pondering expression. “Could it be that my little boy is trying to...impress someone?”

“Oho, no need, my dear mother,” Sting grins, setting his plate into the sink. “Already impressed ‘im.”

She laughs, ruffling his hair, to which he loudly protests. “I should've known. I knew you could do it. You two have been so close for so long it was only a matter of time…”

“Yeah, well, I really-wait, how did you know it was Rogue?”

Mrs. Eucliffe laughs joyously. “I just said anyone could’ve seen it coming, didn't I?”

“True,” Sting shrugs, checking the clock on the oven. “Time for me to head out. I hope I can catch Rogue so he doesn’t have to walk alone.”

“You do that, sweetheart,” his mother smiles warmly. “Your father wanted me to tell you to have a good day today and good luck on your test!”

Sting freezes, eyes widening. “Test? Oh  shit .” He bolts out of the house as fast as he can, trying not to show his desperation. His feet hit the sidewalk as he moves in the direction of the High School. He sees a familiar figure slightly up the street from him, shoulders hunched in that same gray sweatshirt as always.

Sting runs up behind him, throwing an arm around him and placing a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Rogue~!” he says cheerfully.

Rogue turns his head sharply, looking over at Sting with wide eyes. “O-Oh, hi.” He blushes shyly, eyes downcast out of embarrassment.

“Hi beautiful,” Sting flirts, kissing Rogue’s cheek again and watching the red flood his cheeks. “How are you this morning?”

“Not good…” Rogue mumbles, and Sting’s face falls. “This is kinda cheesy but...it's better now that you're here with me.”

“I love cheesy,” Sting smiles, brushing Rogue’s hair from his eyes. “I am the  definition  of cheesy, after all.”

“You're the definition of  dork is what you are,” Rogue replies softly, and Sting giggles in response. They were nearing the campus now, and Sting takes Rogue’s hand in his and swings their joined fingers.

A rough voice suddenly sounds in their ears as a group of three other teenagers approaches them. “Hey there, Cheney,” one of them sneers.

Rogue freezes up beside Sting, hands shaking slightly. Sting instantly senses trouble. His eyes narrow as he shoots the trio his scariest glare, jaw set and face turned in a fierce scowl.

The boy gulps. “Wh-Whoa, not trying to start something or anything...just sayin’ hi to a classmate.” The three of them quickly rush off, leaving the couple alone on the sidewalk.

Rogue turns to look at Sting in amazement. “How did you do that…?”

“My scariest glare,” Sting throws an arm around Rogue’s shoulder and continues to walk with him towards the front of the school. “But it also was a little bit of the secret art of ‘Touch My Boyfriend and I’ll Fuck You Up’, which emits a magical aura of fear-”

“Shut up!” Rogue laughs, elbowing Sting in the ribs. Sting’s heart flutters, because like always, Rogue looked beautiful blushing and laughing. There is relief on his features not there before, the pressure those three boys put upon him lifted from his burdened shoulders.

Sting smiles softly, “Don’t you worry, Rogue. I’ve got you.” He squeezes Rogue’s hand tightly. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back.”

Rogue smiles thinly, “You sure you want to have that job…?” He looks down at his feet, shoes shuffling against the pavement. “You’ve basically just signed yourself up for a world of hurt.”

“I know,” Sting says boldly, staring straight forward. The clear morning sky felt refreshing both on his lungs and his eyes. “I’m prepared to do pretty much anything to get you smiling like that again. I miss it. You look beautiful.”

Rogue flushes again, “Would you stop? We just started dating and you’re already pouring it on like it’s been a year.”

Sting shrugs, “I mean...it almost has been many.”

“Oh, shut up.” Rogue bares the hint of a smile. “You were too cowardly to say anything.”

As they approach the school together, Sting can feel eyes on them, as well as whispers. Instead of shying away, Sting simply stands taller and prouder as if to say:  hell yeah, that’s my boyfriend. I bet you’re jealous .

“I’ll walk you to your first class, okay?” Sting pecks Rogue’s cheek softly, then squeezes his hand.

“Are you showing off right now?” Rogue asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know you can see the people staring.”

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Sting looks genuinely concerned, stopping for a moment to look into his eyes.

Rogue looks away shyly, “You know I don’t like people staring at me…”

“I’m sorry,” Sting mumbles, dropping his hand. “I’m excited, that’s all…”

“I know,” Rogue takes Sting’s hand again. “This is fine...let’s just keep walking…”

Sting smiles and squeezes his hand, then starts walking towards Rogue’s class. Rogue leans on Sting slightly, breathing uneasy, eyes drooping. Sting watches Rogue’s expression, seeing the exhaustion written all over his face, both physical and emotional. It must’ve been another bad night… Sting bites his lip, feeling awful and wishing he could’ve helped. I should ask to stay the night again soon...hold him all night so he feels safe…

The bell rings loudly, snapping the couple out of their daze. Sting awkwardly turns to Rogue, “Well uh...yeah. I’ll seeya later...bye…”

To Sting’s surprise, Rogue takes the riskier move. “I love you.”

Sting blushes brightly, ducking his head slightly, “I love you too, Rogue…” His hand hesitates, fingers brushing against Rogue’s palm as he slowly pulls away and walks down the hall alone.

Rogue sat silently in his desk, pencil tapping against his hand to try and calm his nerves. Usually, he would listen to music to calm himself down, but this teacher was rather strict and didn’t allow it. It caused mild turmoil in him, stuck in a weird limbo of trying to find some inner peace on his own while also longing for the rush of sound to block out the foreboding silence.

Rogue wants to smile, but his mind is too full of anxieties to allow that. But he doesn’t let it win today, not yet, at least. Rogue closes his eyes and remembers Sting’s flustered reaction to those powerful three words:  I love you . Rogue said them without even a moment’s hesitation, heart certain and strong. Scared of everything else in his life, this was the one thing Rogue would not shy away from.

Sting meant everything to him. Rogue wanted Sting to know that, he wanted him to see how much love his broken heart could hold. It was bursting at the seams where it had been stitched, ripped long ago by people who did not take care to cherish it. But in this case, Rogue didn’t mind. The warmth of love, like thick blood, flowed like power into his veins, like gasoline finally being pumped into an old, worn down machine. Now all they needed was some happiness to oil the rusted gears.

Easier said than done , Rogue thinks to himself, fidgeting with the sleeve of his favorite sweatshirt, trying to conceal any trace of the mess of bandages stuck to his scarred skin.

The class drags on and on, the class working in almost eerie silence on their worksheets, the only sound besides the click of calculators and the scritch scratch of pencils being a soft  tick...tock...tick...tock . That sound was the only thing keeping Rogue tethered to reality, an echoing sound that resonated in his mind, helping him slow the agitated heartbeat within his chest that would not cease.

His fingers twitched. His eyes were unfocused and empty. His breathing was uneven and shallow. He wanted his music. He needed his music. He needed an escape.

A loud gasp escapes his lips at the sound of someone dropping a pencil, breaking the silence. Rogue sits bolt upright in his seat, loudly dropping his own pencil against the desk. It felt like all eyes were on him when he stood up, legs weak and unable to support his weight, hands and fingers twitching and shaking, eyes darting everywhere, trying to avoid looking at anyone’s face. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here now.

Mrs. Johanson frowns, standing up and peering over the rim of her glasses. “Is there a problem, Mr. Cheney?”

Something she said made it worse. Rogue wasn’t sure if it was the words, the tone of voice, or the fact she was drawing more and more attention to him, the silence breaking down into pieces, with him the sole source of the chaos.

Rogue tries to speak, tries to stammer out an excuse concerning the bathroom or feeling sick. But the only sound that comes out is a strangled half-sob, and before he knows what is happening, his fingers are hooking around his backpack, and he bolts out the door.

“MR. CHENEY! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Rogue knows he should’ve left his backpack: now she’d think he was just skipping class for a joyride. But he needed his music...he was not going to leave it behind. Still running, Rogue’s left hand scrambles around in his backpack until his fingers coil around the tangled mess of black wires, fishing out his earbuds from the mess of paper and old wrappers. Dragged out with them, his phone nearly drops to the trash-littered cement below.

Mrs. Johnason stopped chasing him. Rogue would be relieved, but he knows this school too well to be fooled by that. She called the hall patrol, perhaps the on-campus police officer. This wouldn’t be the first time. He had been suspected of drugs once before, because of his weird, spastic freakouts and spacy behavior. But they had found nothing but piles and piles of crumpled pieces of paper, covered in frantic handwriting grouped into incoherent scribbles. Look all they like, but they would never find the source of Rogue’s supposed insanity.

The chaos is all in his head, after all.

Rogue finds himself outside of the art classrooms, one of the quietest, most isolated places in the entire school. There was an old supply shed out of use now, supposed to be locked tight with a coded lock impossible to crack. But desperation had overtaken Rogue one day, and he’d fumbled with the lock until he found the code just by chance. It was one of the few miracles that kept him alive.

Quickly inputting the code now embedded in his mind, 7246 , he pushes open the old, creaky door, and steps inside. The shed looks the same as always: dark with only a single stream of light flowing through the small window near the roof. Cans of old paint, tubs of broken crayons, buckets of painted rocks and cracked busts...the room provides a surprising amount of comfort.

Jamming the earbuds into his ears and turning on his headspace playlist, he sits down amongst the pencil shavings and paint chips and closes his eyes, back hitting the old wooden wall behind him. He didn’t care how long he was here now, didn’t care if they called home to report his absence, didn’t care if people panicked and called the police. They would never find him here, he was sure of it. He was simply a shadow on the wall, melting into the darkness effortlessly. They thought this shed hadn’t been opened in years, and it was their ignorance, that for once, kept him safe.

Rogue breathes in slowly, smelling wood and old paint. He finds it soothing, in a way, to know that creativity used to be born here, amongst the wood shavings and dim sunlight.

Rogue feels a bit of sweat on his brow, the warm, stuffy surroundings catching up with him. Nervously he removes the sweatshirt he always wore, trembling slightly at the sight of the revealed bandages plastered to his underarms. Biting his lip, he reminds himself he is alone here, alone and safe from judgemental, preying eyes.

Usually, Rogue sets an alarm so that he could go to his next class, but today is not one of those days. Instead, he shuts his eyes and lets himself slip into a meditative state, trying to think of nothing as music washes over him and drowns out all of the shit in his mind.

Sting hears whispers and rumors bouncing from mouth to mouth all throughout the hallways. Something about it felt wrong, far too familiar. Normally, Sting only butts into gossip if it was something that interested him (which was not very often: in his point of view, the lives of teenage girls are boring as hell) but there was something about this that felt important.

“Yeah, apparently he just jumped out of his seat, grabbed his backpack, and bolted,” a girl with pink lipstick on smirking lips says to her friend.

“Maybe he really is on drugs,” laughs the friend, rolling her brown eyes. “I mean, I know the school searched him and found nothing, but maybe he does ‘em before he gets to school, then sneaks out at lunch to a dealer somewhere down the street.”

The usual drug rumors did not spike Sting’s interest. He turns away, about to head towards his locker, when a single word stops him in his tracks.

“Yeah, what an emo freak.”

Sting whirls around immediately, mind flashing back to the night before. “- the bullies pull me behind the school and call me a faggot and beat me for being the worthless trashy gay emo piece of shit that I am-!”

Sting immediately gets in their faces, preparing to intimidate and defend, “Who are you talking about?!”

One of the girls yelps and jumps back, but the one with pink lipstick smiles flirtatiously at him. Sting controls the urge to roll his eyes.  Great, another girl fishing for what she knows isn’t there.

“Who? Oh, just that weirdass guy in my first period who’s probably on drugs.”

Sting grits his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his side. This girl is pushing all my buttons...   “What’s his name?”

“Rogue Cheney,” she replied easily. “I thought you’d know that by now, considering half the school’s in a bu-”

Sting growls and grabs the front of her shirt, “Shut the fuck up! Rogue’s not on fucking drugs, okay?! I know this for a fact! Ever consider that your words are what’s causing all this shit?”

She snorts loudly, not looking intimidated in the slightest. “Oh Sting, baby, let me guess.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Sting growls, eyes narrowing even more.

“You’re gay for him, aren’t you?” she laughs, acting like this is some sick joke, like she’s trying to insult him. “You could do so much better than trash like th-”

Sting can’t help himself, losing it immediately and punching her straight on the jaw. “MAYBE I FUCKING AM! SO SHUT IT!”

Multiple people scream, stepping back from the scene with wide eyes. A few others whip out their cellphones and start recording. The girl Sting hits falls to the ground, blood streaming out of her split lip, eyes wide in rage.

“YOU BASTARD!” she screams, getting to her feet, trying to wipe the blood off of her face. She springs at him, trying to use her nails to scrape up his face, but he grabs her by the wrist and shoves her back to the ground.

“Don’t you DARE touch me!” Sting shouts, trying to stop the tears from falling.  No one fucking understands...all of these people...they’re just making it worse.  Addressing the crowd, he shouts, “If any of you wanna end up just like her, go ahead, keep talking shit!”

Eyes widen all around the hallway, holding their phones up and continuing to get it all on record. Sting hears shouting and the sound of teachers and hall monitors running towards the scene.

After that, everything is a blur. Dragged to the principal’s office, they sit Sting in a chair in front of the principal’s desk and leave him there. Sting looks down at the dried blood on his fist, cursing his own lack of impulse control. He used to get in trouble all the time before high school for fighting, and he’d been doing so much better since he arrived here. But that bitch’s words had brought him back, and he’d been unable to help himself from shutting her up like many others before her.

Principal Poher peers over his desk at Sting, sighing softly. “Sting Eucliffe...I thought you’d fixed this.”

“So had I,” Sting says softly. He looks up at the principal straight in the eyes. “But I don’t regret it, Sir.”

Poher groans. “Sting, you need to learn that punching people is not the way to solve problems.”

“They did the one thing I can never accept...” Sting does not break eye contact. “Anyone who hurts Rogue deserves it.”

Sting watches as the principal sighs again heavily, leaning back in his chair and looking highly disappointed. “Rogue breaks a lot of school rules as well, Sting. I’m not surprised the school’s talking about him.”

“They bully him,” Sting grits his teeth, “they bully him like we’re back in middle school! It’s immature, rude, and if they would shut their damn mouths then maybe Rogue could actually handle being in class!”

Poher’s expression darkens. “Sting. That is Rogue’s business, not yours. If he’s having a problem, he needs to come talk to us himself.”

“Am I not allowed to defend my best friend? My boyfriend?!” Sting snaps back, anger rising in his chest. “All the anti-bullying stuff around this school says to not be a bystander, to stick up for those in trouble! But once I do that,   I  get in trouble, and nothing changes!”

“What we mean by that is to come tell an authority.” The principal starts filling out a form, not looking at Sting, having given up.

“You just said he has to come tell you himself!” Sting shouts, standing up and shaking angrily.

“Sit down, Sting!” Poher commands, and Sting falls back into his seat with venom in his eyes. Clutching the seat’s armrests with both hands, Sting tries to contain his anger and stop the shaking. “Sting, please listen to me.” Poher’s eyes are fixed upon the boy’s face, and Sting refuses to break eye contact, not backing down. “If someone was bullying Rogue to his face, if someone was physically hurting him, and you came to me with names and evidence, we would put a stop to it. Rogue has not been seen since his little stunt this morning-”

“Wait, what?!” Sting cries, sitting up straighter in the chair. “Rogue’s missing?!”

The principal groans softly, “I shouldn’t have said that. But yes, Rogue is currently missing.”

Sting jumps out of his chair and heads for the door, “I’ve got to find him, he could be in trouble-!” Sting grabs the door and tries to open it, only to realize it’s locked. “Dammit!”

“Sting.” Poher’s voice is surprisingly calm. “You cannot go around punching people anymore, unless it is self-defense. If someone is bullying Rogue, have him come to me. It’s just difficult to take your side of the story as pure fact when you are this riled up and Rogue is missing, breaking school rules. If you both come in later this week, I will have a talk with you.”

Sting hangs his head, shaking violently. “P-Please let me go look for Rogue...likely, he doesn’t want to be found...a-and when he doesn’t want to be found, n-no one’s gonna be able to find him but me...I-I’m the only person he trusts...please…”

Poher sighs softly. “I’m sorry, Sting.” He pushes the form out in front of him. “I’m afraid we have to suspend you for two days for fighting. Stay here, and I’ll call your mom.”

“N-No!” Sting tugs on the door again. “Y-You have to let me out, R-Rogue could be in danger-”

“We have people looking for him now,” the principal says slowly. “I’m calling your mother, Sting. Please sit down and stay as calm as you can. Rogue is going to be alright.”

Sting sinks back into the chair, holding back angry tears. Suspended? Rogue’s going to be alone at school for two days… That is, unless he gets suspended too…

“C-Can I text him…?” Sting whispers, but Poher has already picked up the phone to call Sting’s mother. Biting down on his lip hard, Sting sinks into himself and picks at the dried blood caked onto his fist. Why do all of his attempts to help just make everything worse? Rogue was in a bad place, he couldn’t come to the office himself, he couldn’t tell anyone about the pain he had, about the struggle going on inside his mind. They were basically asking Rogue to do the impossible. People this far gone would never show it, never admit it. They would only hide it inside, hide it until someone they trusted pushed just a bit, and then they’d break into pieces in their hands.

Drowning out the world, Sting buries his face into his hands and tries not to cry. I’m sorry, Rogue...

[anthonywashrosado]

Our Need for Intersectionality within the Hip Hop Movement

A couple of mornings ago I was in Florida tuning into The Breakfast Club for a semblance of home. Conversations on The Breakfast Club relay ways in which Hip Hop’s Movement and Culture relate to the individual, our community, and our world. In addition to sharing personal stories, politics of the music industry and artist development are examined and reviewed with influential innovators.

There have been golden episodes of TBC that filled me with hope. Interviews with leading revolutionaries Trevor Noah, Angela Rye, SZA, Kendrick Lamar, the cast of Insecure, DJ Khaled,Cardi B.and more have blessed millions of listeners with insight, enlightenment, inspiration, and laughs. Although I am forced to swallow my pride whenever Angela Yee is cut off by her male co-hosts, I tune into TBC in order to tap into sentiments similar to those of Johanna Valdes:

“It sucks that even though when people are highly problematic on The Breakfast Club and Power 105.1, I still have to engage because it's Black media and it's New York and it sounds like home. It just still has the parts of home that still hurt the most (usually misogyny and homophobia and classism).”

Johanna’s ventilation vibrate on a high frequency. Remy Ma was TBC’s guest this morning and I was eager to hear her speak of her creative process, as well as her journey making music. Half an hour into this episode I was packing my suitcase and heard words from Remy that brought a sharp chill down my spine, paralyzing my body to a halt.

“But I just... Me, as a female I get it when females do certain things but--”

She was responding to an earlier statement regarding men who gossip. My heart pounded as I turned my head toward Remy’s waving hands and matter of fact tone, thinking of the audience receiving this:

“--I hang around a lot of guys, so when I see guys doing certain things that the guys I grew up around and that I hang around don’t do, I just be so confused. Like, why?”

She threw her hands up, extending the “whyyyyy?”. I knew exactly where this tired rhetoric was going. I immediately felt solidarity with fellow femme identifying listeners as we all prepared ourselves for the internalized misogyny that would spur the seemingly unending perpetuation of femmephobia and attack on women and girls. Charlemagne responded,

“But you grew up around a lot of murderers and killers and shooters.” Remy attests,

“You’re right. You’re right. Absolutely, I did. I’m not going to lie to you. I didn’t have any, like, nice guys around me. They was real cool, but I tell you one thing: They was 100. They wasn’t acting like

girls. They wasn’t doing anything that was not manly; that wasn’t stand up; that you couldn’t, you know, hold your nuts on. That’s just the people that I grew up around. So when I move around today and I see a lot of the ways these guys be moving, it’s very female-ish.”

At this point Remy’s tone has transitioned from a high pitch of confusion to the somber note of a lecturing professor. Angela agrees with a “Mhm”. Charlemagne nods with focused eyes as if this information is new and righteous. Remy continues,

“Very woman-like.”

Angela, the most informed and considerately conscious host on TBC, quickly switches the topic to Love & Hip Hop. As their talk delves further into mind-numbing discourse, I felt that final blow alongside all femme identifying women, trans people, and men listening.

I expected Charlemagne to support Remy’s statements. This is a man who is obtaining cultural capital through interviews with varying sources emboldening his perspective on the “transgender lifestyle”. Charlemagne is akin to straight and straight-passing men who demonstrate their masculinity via defamation of gender non-conforming peoples. While transwomen are being killed every day, The Breakfast Club have the privilege of sittin in their studio and laughing while, you know, Lil Duval states he would kill his sexual partner if he found out they were trans. Their uproar translated to the TBC community: whether lie or not, a human being’s inability to reveal their gender identity is of more value than that human’s right to live.

Do you see how dangerous that is?

While I appreciate Angela’s proactivity to cease Remy’s misogynist and femmephobic hyperbole, her reaction mirrored my sixth grade science teacher’s decision to sweep homophobia under the rug by instructing us to open chapter four after I had been called a faggot during his lesson.

Miles from my family, I turned to facebook and posted my feelings. Responses from fellow TBC subscribers eased my mind. Candace Simpson vented,

“It hurts me when my fellow black cis sisters engage in those sorts of gender-essentialist games. We never had womanhood in this country. Ever. And even when we did, it was conditional. I wish we could really take seriously that transphobic rhetoric hurts us too. Think about how people called Serena a man. Black women get those ‘insults’ so much more than white women. As a tall woman, I’ve had my womanhood questioned. I wish we could get it together because this really does come home to bite us in the ass.”

Initially, I planned on visiting Angela at her juice spotin Brooklyn. She is able to thwart any exchange from deleterious to productive. I invariably look forward to her questions. I admire her entrepreneurship. As a Brooklyn native I felt she might want to listen to me. “Yet”, I thought to myself, “if the camera is hardly on Angela during TBC’s aired recordings and her profound questions are constantly interrupted by basic macho prose, then what power would she have to respond to the hate so boldly spewed internationally? ...And would she be targeted for speaking out against hate she and her co-hosts permitted on TBC?”

Angela’s decision to slyly swat away comments that assure continuous degradation of women within the workforce and social spheres is one that is just as venomous as instigating hate. Remy’s internalized misogyny was ignored, as well as the fact that she spat in the wind.

This spit slapped the faces of women who have struggled with stereotypical heteronormative expectations of womanhood for generations... then hit all of her femme identifying male and trans fans...

and finally landed on her L’Aveugle shades.

Although she may wipe her glasses off, the brunt of her conclusion is detrimental to the sustainability of her fan base. There are many ironic and sad parts of Remy’s foot-in-mouth moment. First and foremost...

Remy, come meet me on any day and I will humbly show you a man who is thriving for his community. I will come to you with utmost respect and kindness. I will provide for you receipts at which to prove how I have fostered my upward mobility within a society whose legislative and socially oppressive systems hinder non-white low class individuals from reaching their potential. I am a queer femme identifying Afro-Boricua housing rights activist, curator, and choreographer. My older brother is also queer and a self made entrepreneur, mother agent, and photographer who I assisted in helping raise our three younger siblings. My mom had he at 16 and me at 18. He and I are both very comfortable with our masculine and feminine energies.

My brother is 100. I am 100. I am confident many of your femme identifying male fans are 100.

We need clarity on your definitions so as not to misinterpret your words: Remy, what does it mean to act like a “girlyman”?

Doe it mean that that one is considerate; emotionally intellectual; secure in their feelings; able to express their self?

Or does it mean that one is fragile; dim-witted; easily moldable; unable to make their own decisions?

What does it mean to act “woman-like”?

Does it mean that one provides; nurtures; has agency in creating the circumstances for the life they want; preserves the human species?

Or, Remy, does it mean that one is worth less than the masculinity present within a cis-gendered man; to blame for any verbal and physical abuse they receive in these streets; wired to gossip.

If so...

Remy Remy Remy... You and TBC just dug us a bit deeper into a pit of anti-women based media, hate, crimes, and legislation...

Now I’M confused cause y’all over there laughing and got me sitting in Miami on a sunny 86 degree day tapping at the keys on my laptop, over here like... Why? Whyyyy? Why can’t y’all just have a discussion with the Gender Unicorn?

Fact:Gender performance, gender identity, the sex you were assigned at birth, sexual attraction, and emotional attraction are different. Neither one of these dictates the other.

Remy, your remarks regarding your perception of how others should perform their gender have weight. I wish they didn’t, but they do. I understand that you were alluding to men who gossip. However your proclamation was toxic because it implies that women inherently gossip and/or it is okay for women to gossip but not men. Although your words intended to illustrate your mindset on men gossiping, their effect was of severe detriment to TBC supporters. They maintain the stereotype that women are loose with their tongues. They validate aggressors who traumatize, attack, and slaughter gender non-conforming people.

Remy, I also grew up with machismos in and out of jail. I too had men in my life like those you explain. They tried their hardest to make a man of me. What they, and you, won’t realize is that my manhood and my gender performance are defined by me. Not them. Not you. Me.

True, Remy, your intention was to express your distaste for men who gossip. This implies that gossiping is a trait ingrained in women.

Remy, what is missing from your eurocentrically washed frame of mind is the herstory and history of our African and Indigenous American ancestors. Arawak Tainos across the Caribbean were amongst countless tribes who lived in matriarchal societies. All spectrums of gender identity and performance existed then, as they still do today.

Remy, in order to insure the longevity of your career you need an ardent and viable fan base that know you got their backs. No matter your intent, your actions impacted more people than you can imagine. Believe it or not, your fans include gender non conforming and/or femme identifying people.

Why do we hurt one another even though we are all being hurt by the same oppressor?

I escaped New York in part to get away from femme phobia, only to arrive to North Miami and experience femmephobia from men and women of color.

Where is the intersectionality? Why can’t I escape society motivating society to drink basic-heteronormative flavored kool aid?

Red dye #40 is not good for you.

Deductive reasoning reveals if a person is discriminatory of an identity they too claim, then they endure self-inflicted prejudice. Remy, if you loved yourself then you wouldn’t have to nonchalantly spread hate internationally. Just because people around you were laughing, does not mean it wasn’t enmity. I hope you take time to learn to love yourself more. I hope you will make time to reach out to we who secure your artistic career’s existence. We need your lucidity.

We are waiting.

Revolutionary Ru Paul preaches, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the world are you going to love somebody else?”

[sanctuary95]

OH.EM.GEE

9/29/2019

4:50 pm

HOLY COW. 

I DID IT. Or rather I am doing it. I am surviving. I have lasted 3 years in WEST VIRGINIA. I am a senior now. I am almost graduated. My most wanted dream is coming true. My most wanted desire is about to happen... Is this real life.. Is this a sick joke? Is this for real, or what? Like wow..

Okay, so I am obviously too frickin ecstatic to be getting the eff out of this place. To this day I cannot describe the anxious/sad/mildly depressing feeling I get just thinking about the fact that I am here. Maybe one day I will find out whyyyy this place makes me feel the way that it does. Why does it give me such horrible anxiety.. or why does it make me feel so bad :/ 

Don't know right now.. and that is not a major concern cause I literally only have months left in this place..

Now to get to the point of this blog entry... CMB. We hung out about 3 weeks ago and we had a disagreement and as he was pulling away from my driveway he texts me to never text him again... lol angry much? I do not understand the harsh sentiment... again I just feel like he is the type of person since he “did so much for me” ie.. pay for a lot of stuff, that he can do no wrong and I immediately have to be submissive to him. Like I am forever indebted to him.. and um no. I hate how he painted me out to be such this bad person, but um no. 

I can’t lie and say that it does not hurt, because man does it hurt. It just sucks to be honest. We started out our relationship back in January of this year and it was amazing. It was great.  I was on cloud nine for weeks, if not months. I was falling for him and could see myself with him longterm. But not anymore. I need to let goooooo. I am still holding on. He blocked me on insta but I have a finsta and follow him. I need to let gooooooo. We had so many amazing moments and little getaways in Pittsburgh and even the Anuel concert, but I need to close that chapter of my life and start a new one. I need to let gooo. I need to breath in and out and accept the closure of this chapter. I need to relax, inhale, exhale, close my eyes, wish him the best and let gooo. 

This is sort of my goodbye letter to you. I know my thoughts are all over the place and I am rambling a little bit, but I just want to lay everything out on the table. 

Dear C,

I just want to say thank you for all of the great times we had. Thank you for making my experience here way more bearable, and thank you for providing me with such amazing moments and memories in this place. You have made this sucky experience of my life that much better. I know things did not work out for us, and I do not think we are meant to be together, but I am so glad we became a part of each other’s lives. You were that ray of sunshine that I was desperately searching for here. You were that hope and that escape from this miserable place for me. Now I can look back and say that I have at least enjoyed a large part of being here. For that I thank you and I wish you the best. I wonder how things will shape out in these months to come. Hopefully one day we can be in each other’s lives and be friends? Maybe.. But farewell (haha I have to add some weird stuff in there) Goodbye. Take care.