#yesterday's thought process made it so that i cannot bring myself to show it to anyone who has a name to put to my face and knows my voice

[aromantic-diaries]

Worry not guys I have not forgotten about this blog it is on my mind 24/7 but lately I have been more thoughts going into my actual diary by the way I think my real life diary is pretty funny look at this thing. I got it cause i found it funny

It's where I write about everything I don't talk about like things that'd get me a concerned look or my opinions on which of my sweaters go well with my two favorite pairs of socks

[danger-noodle-uwu]

I'm new to tumblr so is this how you do request? May I request the brothers forgetting mc's birthday and later remembering it. How would they react? Maybe they were busy or something. Your choice if you wanna do the dateables too.

Trigger warning

Mentions of Angst/sad/slight comfort

Lucifer

Busy almost all the time, the first-born barely spent time with our dear Mc. He would try to finish the work only for more to be slammed on his desk.

Never would his brothers acknowledge his efforts or the sacrifices he made for them. Instead they'd mock him. Mock him for being absent at all family times. Mock him for doing what he does.

It was once again such a time, such a day. They didn't bother to care what the day has held for his beloved. It was their birth.

The birth of the one who truly changed his life along with his brothers. It was such a blessing yet he forgot about it. Entirely.

The Avatar of pride was strong, Lucifer wasn't. He was weak. Vulnerable. Especially against his brothers whom he adored with his entire being.

And the mocking words had stabbed him deeply, which made his current state as to how it was. Drunk. Wounded. Crying.

Rubbing his eyes, he awoke to a mess of his office which screamed the need for cleanliness.

During the process, he found the calender. A sweet calender gifted him by his doll.

A smile had crept on his face as he lifted it for what? Perhaps to calm the unsettling feeling in his bones that told him to run but where he didn't know?

While their lover was, Mc wilted much like a delicate flower would if the sun stopped shinning, they were laying curled on the floor of his room. Mc needed him.

How could he forget his own lover's birthday?! even after he promised... it hurts.. so much...

Yesterday. The poor human cut the cake wished themselves a happy birthday when he didn't...crying...in pain...

The realization hit hard. He ran to Mc's room as fast as he could. A shiver ran his spine and the horror in his stomach grew as each and every step was taken.

Yet could not find them, so he went over to his office expecting a fuming Mc.

He was once again not right, for his beloved was breaking down as he took them into his arms. Consoling.

He apologised and comforted them. Reassuring them over and over again. Reminding them his heart still is with them and no-could ever take it away.

He later threw a party, just like how you wanted. You. Him. And the growing fragrance of the candles surrounding you both.

Though late as it may have been, it was the best birthday the innocent human had. Smiling while he kissed your knuckles, he asked for your hand in marriage.

Never had you expected this...

"I Found the reason for my smile, the day I found you. Will you let me be the reason for your smile and marry me, my love?"

Mammon

As most had expected, he forgot your birthday due to witches or the modeling gig, he did not.

Instead he forgot about preparing your birthday gifts. His excitement had always gotten the best of him.

The Avatar of greed did not have enough budget to prepare the gift you dearly wished for, therefore multiple part-time jobs and skipping RAD became more often.

Despite the scolding, he didn't bother and worked on, just imagining the smile you'd make once you saw what he got you.

''I'll make Mc smile. Just one more hour extra and the budget would be*chef's kiss* '' he thought as his co-workers packed their belongings up.

It was late night and the moons shined brightly over the streets of devildom however he wasn't much worried because it was not like your birthday the next day. (it was)

Stretching his arms, he woke up around 1:35 pm due to his fucked up sleep schedule, only to be greeted by your excited figure cuddling him.

Grey-haired demon thought it was the Delirium before the day itself. He was wrong.

At first he acted totally oblivious to the fact any special day was just around the corner. He knew that surprises even more better!!

And then your great mammon ignored you for a while to rid of the risk of you following him to the destination.

Though his plan was to get your hopes down, he ended up making you cry. It hurts a lot especially when the love of your life forgets your birthday afterall you gave him everything he wanted on his.

The visit was successful. He even had extras left to treat you!!!

The was big achievement for someone who hated working to the slightest, to work for 3 weeks and multiple jobs!!!

But before he left, the seller mocked him about being a damned day late for this gift could have been sold at a better price if not booked.

That is when it all clicked and he panicked. Today was your birthday! Oh shit!!

He rushed home back to you. As he ran, he planned how to ask for your forgiveness.

" Oi Mc I'm sorry!--Oh hell no!!" "Mc I fucked I am sorry, please forgive afterall I'm your first man.--fuck this shit imma just play smooth."

Panting, he paused right before the door of your room and knocked lightly. Seeking your permission to enter.

You lazily opened the door for him, tired after shedding many tears for him.

Mammon instantly knew what to do. "Oi Mc I'm sorry for not wishing ya' a happy birthday earlier but I was busy buyin you somethin', here darlin' close your eyes."

Hearing his apology, you felt oddly happy and followed his request. Soon you felt a soft cold metal cling to your wrist. A bracelet, huh.?

"Open y'er eyes, human." On your wrist was bracelet that said 'His human' and another matching one was on his wrist which said 'Their stupid' . (Now isn't that adorable?)

"I was savin' up for this, so ya' better appreciate it. Hmph!" Giggling you yelled 'I love you' at him making him blush immediately.

However, when he spoke, he spoke genuinely and not in tsundere.

"Ya' make my life worth living. You bring smiles to my face, and y'er touch shows me how much you love me and care for me. Y'er my friend and my lover. Happy Birthday!"

Leviathan

With envy filled to the brim, Leviathan was very focused upon you and having your attention only for himself. To not let anyone snatch you away for they could better be than him, he'd make notes to treat you like royalty and improve his guilt-tripping habits.

Guilt, regret, shame. His heart screamed within the confines of his chest, as he rubbed your back assuring you that he still loved and will continue to do so.

It was his envy. It had always been his envy. Who always held him captive like a bird in a cage, he struggled to break free. He just couldn't.

The fault was his for if he hadn't given in to the jealousy named poison, you would be happily celebrating your birthday rather than crying in his embrace.

The fault was his for if he hadn't screamed at your friends who just came to congratulate you about getting in a relationship with the demon you very much loved and to wish you a birthday.

They left because of him. Not because he humiliated them but he forgot his own lover's birthday and called them a pathetic cheater, as they didn't feel like reminding of what the day was. They had left off with their friends, returning at HOL at night only to get yelled at.

Caring friends as they were, they tried convincing Mc to leave which his love refused. So, they left pitying the poor human.

No-matter how much Mc begged her companions to stay, they didn't.

Oh the suffering for His Normie, they ran upto him vulnerable-ly and started hitting him weakly, breaking down. Why was he? Why was he like this?! Why must he always leave you crying due to his envy?!

"Hey easy...calm down please, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, please forgive me and I promise I will make everything right. Please." "How..?" "Please trust me. My love." "Are you sure..?" "Yes...yes...I love you..."

Could you really trust his statement? You wondered. He could forget his word much like how he forgot your birthday.

The great admiral of hell's navy was true to his word, and successfully united you again with those who almost abandoned you or it seemed like--but no they were just disappointed. They were never going to do such a thing.

The meet went smoothly, and soon the the sun was setting casting shadows along with dying light, it was a dreamy sight for anyone.

Leviathan had known that he still had to make upto you properly and therefore, he took you to the cosmos of frodane.

Red, blue, yellow, any colour you could possibly think of was there, shining as brightly you were.

Taking in a shaky breath, the Avatar of envy gave you a bouquet, each flower consisting different scent which complimented the other.

The shimmer in your eyes gave you away and he gave you a sweetly addicting kiss while mumuring...

"I always cause some mess. It is never your fault. I’m sorry for making you feel unhappy. I cannot believe that I cause hurt to you. You are my only hope for my life. I promise you that I will do my best to make a better version of myself for you, my 3rd waifu~"

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

And here we go... the pain and the suffering. Lol

Hope you like it and stay safe everyone. ♡♡♡

Have a good day!

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol.11 Tsukinami Carla [TRACK 2]

Original title: 亢進

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 11 Tsukinami Carla

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toshiyuki Morikawa

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

TRACK 2: EXASPERATION

*Cling cling*

[00:15] “...No, that’s not it…”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Still…Those Vibora’s…”

You frown.

“Hm…? What’s the matter?”

You ask him if something is wrong.

[00:33] “Ahー Did I make you worried again? I accidentally got lost in thought…I received a report that the messages we distributed the other day have been causing several disturbances. Therefore, we must quickly make our next move. Not only must we lay the groundworks for a reconciliation, but also think of building our own constitutional government afterwards. Fufufu…The list of things to do is endless.”

You note that he seems pleased. 

[01:07] “Hmph. I must give you credit for being able to read my expression. Exactly. The process is looking promising. No, if anything, almost a little too good. I gave Shin a very important order yesterday. I believe we can expect a Familiar to deliver us a response any minute now.”

*Knock knock*

“...Hm. Speak of the devil.”

Yui gets up.

“No, it is fine. I will go myself.”

Carla gets up and walks towards the door. 

*Thud*

*TIMESKIP*

He has returned to the room as you ask about the message.

[02:09] “Great news. Even better than I anticipated.”

You rejoice.

“You may be jumping the gun a little. However, I do not mind. We will surely turn out victorious in the end.”

*Rustle*

“All you need to do is eagerly await the moment you get to witness the final picture.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Hoooooowl*

[02:55] “ー�� Well then, I’ll get going.”

You frown.

“Hmph. No need to be worried.”

You seem hesitant about being apart.

[03:07] “What? I will be back in no time. We will only be apart for a short while. Of course, I’d love to take you with me, but the Demon World is a place full of risks for a physical human such as yourself. Not only have I put up a barrier around this Castle, the Familiars are here to keep you safe as well. You can wait for me here in peace.”

*Rustle*

“Hm…Your complexion seems a little pale. I believe I told you to take good care of your health?”

You promise to be a little more mindful of your health.

[03:51] “Heh…Please do that. You are my one and only…I simply cannot go on without you. That is not because of your special blood…Your existence itself is precious to me. Do not get the wrong idea there, okay?”

You smile. 

“Heh…It pains me to say this but…I must go.”

*Thud*

*TIMESKIP*

*Caw caw caw*

[04:45] “...Haah. So the Adler’s Castle is next on the list? They are known to be especially cunning. It is important I do not show them a single opening. I must be extremely careful. …Cough…Cough, cough…! …Ugh…Haah…I guess I have had a little too much on my plate. 

[05:18] ( Due to my busy schedule amongst many other things, my body had already been pushed to its limits. As of now, there has been no way to counter Endzeit ー the doom desire disease ー other than the regular intake of her blood. In other words, I have no other choice but to rely on her self-sacrifice. However, I already felt quite reluctant to put her through that. However, I must make sure that I survive, at the very least until I am able to fulfill the ambition of us Founders. To achieve that, sacrifices will have to be made. )

[06:14] “Haah…How troublesome…However, I cannot stop now. The King of Founders is a pivotal figure to the world…If I once again bring us to the top of the hierarchy, I am sure she will be pleased as well. Exactly. That is exactly whyーー I started all of this. However…Cough, cough…! Haah…I suppose I will have no other choice but to ask Shin to take my place for a bit…For now, I must return to the human world.”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[magnetic-rose]

Why Spones is a top-tier ship

AKA “the inherent homoeroticism of annoying the shit out of your co-worker.”

Spock and McCoy have a complicated relationship. A lot of their bickering and ideological differences lead fans to believe that they hate each other, but that’s an over-simplification of the truth. The reality is that Spock and McCoy are extremely close friends who care about each other deeply. Though sometimes their bickering turns serious during stressful situations, for the most time they seem to enjoy the banter. A common mischaracterization of their relationship seems to put McCoy as the bully and Spock as the victim. In truth, there are many times where Spock will say something specifically to get a rise out of McCoy. They fight. That’s how they show affection, not disdain. In fact, one could argue that some of their bantering have a flirtatious tone to it.

Kirk: Mister Spock, regaining eyesight would be an emotional experience for most. You, I assume, felt nothing.

Spock: On the contrary Captain. I had a very strong reaction. My first sight was the face of Doctor McCoy bending over me.

McCoy: ‘Tis a pity brief blindness didn’t increase your appreciation for beauty, Spock. (Operation -- Annihilate!)

Spock is a half-Vulcan, half-Human who has mostly chosen to follow his Vulcan heritage. As such, he is a being of almost pure logic. The truth about Vulcans are that they are secretly beings who feel things very deeply and intensely, and they feel the need to keep a tight lid on their emotions as to not succumb to them. McCoy, on the other hand, is a regular human. He’s a deeply emotional man who cares about others. One could argue that McCoy is almost too empathetic, as he lets his emotions rule him. Spock and McCoy are polar opposites; the brain and the heart, the logic and the emotion, the super-ego and the id.

Despite these differences, the two men are similar in a lot of ways. They’re both men of science, men of peace, and they both care very deeply for their Captain. They’re both self-sacrificing morons, to the chagrin of the other. Spock will prioritize McCoy’s life even when both of them know it’s not the logical choice to do so. Likewise, McCoy will take a hit for Spock even when they both know the Vulcan is stronger and better equipped to deal with pain than the doctor.

Spock: (In the middle of a blizzard) In this severe cold, we cannot survive much longer.

McCoy: Leave me here, Spock.

Spock: We go together or not at all.

McCoy: Don’t be a fool. My hands and face are frostbitten. I can’t feel my feet. Alone, you have a chance. Now do what I say. Go try to find Jim.

Spock: We go together! (All of Yesterdays)

In the episode, “The Empath,” Kirk, Spock and McCoy have to choose someone to be offered as sacrifice to be tortured by a group of aliens. Kirk obviously volunteers, but gets put to sleep by McCoy with a tranquilizer. Spock then states that he’ll offer himself up, as he has the higher chance of surviving the torture. McCoy then proceeds to sedate Spock as well, and sacrifices himself to be tortured by the aliens.

Spock: While the captain is asleep, I am in command. When the Vians return, I shall go with them.

McCoy: You mean, if I hadn't given him that shot

Spock: Precisely. The choice would have been the captain's. Now it is mine.

(McCoy turns away. Spock sits to carry on working. Gem puts her hand on Spock's shoulder, and smiles. McCoy comes up behind him and gives him an injection.)

Spock: Your action is highly unethical. My decision stands. (Spock falls asleep next to Kirk.)

McCoy: Not this time, Spock.

Underneath all the fighting and disagreements, there is a deep caring between Spock and McCoy that manifests itself into protectiveness towards each other. In “All of Yesterdays,” Spock is constantly showing concern for McCoy after he almost died of hypothermia. In aftermath of McCoy’s torture in “The Empath,” Spock is seen hovering over his body and caressing his face, worry written into his features. On the other hand, while McCoy constantly makes fun of Spock for his lack of emotions, he’s also highly aware of the Vulcan’s mental state and protective of it when others threaten to shatter his resilience.

McCoy: He's a Vulcan. You can't force emotion out of him.

Philana: You must be joking, Doctor.

McCoy: You'll destroy him.

Parmen: We can't let him die laughing, can we?

McCoy: (Watching as Spock starts to cry) I beg you! (Plato’s Stepchildren)

The episode “Amok Time” also demonstrates McCoy’s perceptiveness of Spock and Spock’s true feelings of friendship towards McCoy. McCoy is in fact the first person to notice that something is wrong with Spock:

McCoy: Oh, captain. Got a minute? It's Spock. Have you noticed anything strange about him?

Kirk: No, nothing in particular. Why ?

McCoy: Well, it's nothing I can pinpoint without an examination, but he's become increasingly restive. If he were not a Vulcan, I'd almost say nervous. And for another thing, he's avoiding food. I checked and he hasn't eaten at all in three days.

Kirk: That just sounds like Mister Spock in one of his contemplative phases.

Kirk doesn’t notice anything wrong with Spock, and initially dismisses McCoy’s concern, but McCoy immediately picked up on Spock’s mental turmoil. Despite his cantankerousness, McCoy not only cares about Spock but goes out of his way to look out for his mental state. Part of it might be because he’s his doctor, but how many doctors go so far as to monitor someone’s eating habits because they notice that person’s suddenly being fidgety? On Spock’s end, when it comes time for him to beam down to Vulcan to complete his marriage ceremony, he specifically asks for McCoy to be there:

Spock: By tradition, the male is accompanied by his closest friends.

Kirk: Thank you, Mister Spock.

Spock: I also request McCoy accompany me.

McCoy: I shall be honoured, sir.

One episode I find extremely fascinating in terms of McCoy/Spock moments is “Mirror, Mirror.” In this famous episode, half of the Enterprise crew get transported into an alternate universe dubbed The Mirror Verse, in which evil versions of the characters exist and terrorize space as a fearsome military force. McCoy is part of the team that gets transported in the Mirror Verse, while Spock stays in their regular universe. Mirror Spock immediately realizes that half of the crew, including Kirk and McCoy, are acting strangely. When he corners Kirk to question him, he does so by threatening McCoy: “I shall not waste time with you. You’re too inflexible, too disciplined, once you’ve made up your mind. But Doctor McCoy has a plenitude of human weaknesses, sentimental, soft. You may not tell me what I want to know, but he will.” This Spock seems to have a intimate knowledge of McCoy’s mind.  When the party decides to attack Mirror Spock, he fights all of them except for Uhura and McCoy, who he simply pushes out of harm’s way.

When Mirror Spock gets hurt as the crew is trying to escape back to their own universe, McCoy is suddenly unable to leave his side. Kirk allows him to stay to nurse Spock back to health, and McCoy risks almost staying in the Mirror Verse forever for him. When Mirror Spock awakes, he backs McCoy into a wall and initiates a forced mind meld onto the doctor. The next scene has Mirror Spock holding a disoriented McCoy up and bringing him back to his crew; he now understands what is happening and he wants his regular crew back, and thus he allows Kirk and company to make the switch back to their own universe.

Other Star Trek properties have gone more in depth on how a forced mind meld can be extremely traumatizing on the person receiving it. Star Trek: Enterprise has an entire story arc dedicated to the Vulcan T’Pol trying to heal from a forced mind meld. Unfortunately, because the nature of TOS episodes were episodic, we never got the chance to explore the emotional fallout of McCoy’s forced mind meld and how that might have affected his relationship with Spock. The franchise also never went in depth on Mirror McCoy outside of what Mirror Spock speaks of him, since Mirror McCoy died of xenopolycythemia in 2269.

Closing the list of evidence of Spock and McCoy’s affections towards each other are the Star Trek movies “The Wrath of Khan” and “The Search for Spock.” Towards the end of Wrath of Khan, Spock sacrifices himself to save The Enterprise in one of the franchises most heart-wrenching scenes. Moments before his sacrifice, he knocks McCoy unconscious, touches his face and whispers “remember.” What happened in this scene was that Spock, knowing he was about to die, transferred his Katra to McCoy. The katra being the Vulcan equivalent of a soul. This speaks to the amount of trust that Spock has in McCoy. For someone who keeps most of his emotions under a tight lid, it’s a huge gesture to entrust another with the essence of their entire being. The next movie, The Search for Spock, is a journey as the Enterprise crew fight to return to Vulcan so they can reunite Spock with his body. When they finally arrive, the Vulcans warn McCoy that the process is extremely dangerous and could even result in his death. McCoy calmly replies that he “chooses the danger.” He cannot fathom living his life without Spock.

McCoy: (Speaking to Spock) I'm going to tell you something that I... I never thought I'd hear myself say...But it seems I've missed you. I don't know if I could stand to lose you again.

So in conclusion, Spock and McCoy have a rich and complex relationship that is much more than simply just “they dislike each other because they bicker a lot.” Their bickering is more akin to that of an old married couple. There are plenty of examples not even included in this post of how deeply they care for each other. Despite their ideological differences, they balance each other out quite nicely. McCoy is finely attuned to Spock’s emotions, arguably better than anyone else on the ship. Spock in turn is protective and gentle with McCoy. Once you stop looking at their interactions solely on the surface level, you’ll be able to see the tenderness and years of love and friendship between them. This is why I think Spock/McCoy is one of the most underrated and misunderstood relationships of TOS. Don’t let the constant arguing fool you into believing these two dummies don’t adore each other.

Shout-out to Tempest for their extremely lengthy ship manifesto on Spones called “Spiced Peaches,” which goes even more in depth on why Spones is a great couple. Using their manifesto as a reference was key to remembering Spock/McCoy moments. Also shout-out to the site chakoteya for having full transcripts of TOS episodes, so I could easily find quotes for this. If you’ve come this far, thanks for reading!

[ginnympotter]

call it even

Chapter 2: for old times’ sake

A/N: uhhh so spoiler or whatever but this has a small amount of pretty mild smut? which i've never attempted i can't believe i'm pressing post on this thing please don't judge me lol you can also read this chapter on AO3

I’m parked between the Methodist and school.

She read the text, looked at herself in the mirror one more time, and braced herself. She took her coat off the hook and as she was zipping it up she heard her mother coming down the stairs. “Ginny, hun, are you going out?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” she said, grabbing the doorknob, trying to get out as quick as she could.

But before she could walk out Molly asked, “You know Harry could have come in, right?”

She looked at her mother’s smug smile and groaned. “Goodnight, Mom,” and swung the door shut behind her.

She walked quickly two blocks down, turned right and crossed the street. It was easy to spot Harry’s old truck, not just because there were only 3 other cars parked on that road, but also because it stuck out like a sore thumb, and also was a staple in so many of their memories. She knocked on the passenger side’s window and opened the car door, hopping into the seat. She looked over at Harry to say hi, and saw him smiling. “Hey, thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course,” Harry said as she shut the door. “But why did you make me park two blocks over?”

“Because I didn’t want it to be awkward, with me staying at my parents’ house, but it didn’t even matter because my mom just knew I was going to hang out with you.”

“Molly knows all.”

“Too much.” She looked over at their old high school building, and then at the field they were parked in front of, nostalgia filling her up. “Nice parking spot.”

“It’s weird working at the school we went to. Where those bleachers are,” Harry responded. She felt a tightness in her throat, feeling both excited and uneasy that he was already bringing these types of things up. “Remember how pissed Molly was when we skipped the prom?”

“Thank God she never found us under those,” Ginny heard herself respond. She and Harry looked at one another, twin smirks on their faces. The school bleachers might not be exactly the ideal, romantic place to lose your virginity, but for them it made total sense. She collected herself before her thoughts would get her carried away. “So, um, where to? Everywhere’s closed.”

“Did you eat already?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, okay, um...maybe we could just drive around for a bit? And then head back to my place for a glass of wine?”

Memories from last year flashed in her mind. She nodded and buckled herself in silently. He started the car, the engine gave a loud and disquieting noise, and then they took off. “I cannot believe this truck is still running.”

Harry lightly tapped the dashboard. “She never lets me down.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and sniggered. She looked out the window as they drove down the roads. “Believe it or not I kind of missed this place. Has it changed at all?”

“The same as it ever was,” Harry responded. “But I know you don’t like it that way.”

His eyes were on the road but she could feel what he meant without seeing his face. “I do, sometimes,” she clarified, hoping he would hear her for what she meant. “Is Dumbledore still principal?”

“Yeah, he is,” Harry told her. “And McGonagall still teaches math.”

“You were always their favorite.”

“Dumbledore’s, maybe,” he shrugged. “But McGonagall? She still goes on about my dad. They have tea together like, once a month.”

“But McGonagall let you get away with basically everything. She was just sly about it.”

“Much to Snape’s chagrin.”

“Oh God, don’t tell me he still works there?”

“Unfortunately.” Ginny blanched, and Harry laughed in appreciation. “He was so pissed when Dumbledore hired me. I just avoid him at all costs.”

“I can’t believe you willingly accepted a job where you have to see Snape every day.”

“I know. It’s worth it, though. I really love teaching,” he said. They halted at a stop sign and he used the opportunity to look at her as he said, “You helped me realize that.”

“I was a great tutee, if I do say so myself,” she smiled. “How about the coaching bit? Did the kids ever recover from their loss?”

Harry drove them around all the backroads as he talked about coaching and working at the school. Much of the anxiety she was holding inside her had slowly melted away as they eased back into their regular rapport. Her heart felt like it doubled in size as he talked about his favorite students (though at first proclaiming, “I don’t play favorites, but…”). He asked her more about life in LA and her first year being a starter.

When they arrived at Harry’s apartment, Ginny hung up her coat and watched as Harry’s eyes not so subtly raked over her body before he turned to his cabinet and took out two wine glasses. She sat in the same spot she did the last time she was on his sofa as Harry listed off various wine options. Harry updated her on all the most recent Tupelo gossip as they drank and reminisced on the different characters they grew up with. Every time he smiled she felt a piece of her heart break, she missed seeing it so much.

Harry must’ve sensed it- or perhaps he heard the crack inside her chest- as one of those times his smile dropped to a frown as he looked at her with concern. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny tried, taking the last sip of her wine and placing the glass down on the coffee table. She then noticed the People Magazine cover where she was in a little square on the top right for her interview with them last month.

She picked it up and held it in front of Harry, who suddenly turned red. “Er, I, um-” he stammered, and she laughed.

“Fred and George were just making fun of me for this yesterday at their party.”

“What’s to make fun of?” Harry asked, attempting to recover. “I think you did great.”

“Just a bit corny of a profile, I guess,” she responded. “Can I ask why you have it?”

Harry sighed, giving Ginny a very pointed look.

“What?”

“I have it because I was proud of you,” he replied carefully, taking another sip of his wine. “Is that a bad thing?”

And before she could register exactly what she was saying, the words “You could’ve texted me” flew out of her mouth.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “About the People profile?”

“Sure,” she said. Her brain telling her shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, but her mouth continued. “Or any other time before that. Or after I left this apartment after my brother’s wedding.”

Just as quickly as Harry’s face reddened before, it had now drained of all color. “I, er… I don’t-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat. “You could’ve texted me too, you know.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Ginny,” he said softly, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to do this right now. Can’t we just...enjoy our time together while you’re here? Before you leave in a few days? I don’t want to fight.”

“Why didn’t you?” she repeated, more quietly this time.

“You know why,” he said defiantly, in an equally low voice.

“I don’t, actually.”

He groaned, putting his glass down next to hers before looking at her intensely. He looked tired, sad. “Because the only thing I wanted to text you was to ask you to stay. And I couldn’t ask that; it wouldn’t be right.”

She had an inkling that this would be his answer, but it still felt nice to hear him confirm it. “No, I suppose not.”

“And I wanted to text you so many times after, but… I was too afraid of what I’d say. And then too much time passed, and- I don’t know, I’m sorry, Gin.”

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

Harry blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question. “No,” he said.

“Neither am I,” she told him, and then moved closer to him, so close that their legs touched. “You’re right, you couldn’t ask me to stay. But… how about I stay the night, and we could call it even?”

It took Harry a moment to register her proposal. When he did, he swallowed, his adam’s apple protruding against his throat. “Are...are you sure?”

She decided then to let go of her inhibitions, to act on impulse and burning desire, and placed herself on his lap facing him, her knees tightly against his hips, her hands meeting on the back of his neck, lightly scratching the bottom of his scalp. “I’m sure.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Right, then,” he mumbled, and then his lips were crashing against hers, and his arms moved her impossibly closer to him. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept atop hers; Harry moaned as he did it, as Ginny moved her fingers through his hair and pressed her chest against his. They kissed passionately, slow and hot, then fast and urgent, then slowly again. They fell back into their rhythm seamlessly.

When Ginny pulled away to kiss his neck, Harry’s voice was raspy. “Fuck,” he exhaled. She moved her tongue lightly along his collar bone, up the side of his neck, and to his ear as she ground herself more firmly on his growing erection. He groaned, moving his hands to Ginny’s ass and cupping it. “Fuck,” he repeated. “I missed this. I missed you.”

She was too stimulated to think too much about his words for too long, but nevertheless, they still caused her heart to lurch. And hearing Harry express himself- even just the slightest showing of vulnerability from him- always turned her on even more. She blew hot air on his ear, nibbled on the lobe, and then pulled away to take off his sweater. He smiled in a daze as she got the sweater off of him and discarded it. He didn’t waste another second before throwing off his T-shirt (his glasses momentarily getting caught in the process) and then doing the same to her, so he could have the next several seconds to unhook her lacy blue bra and let it drop to the floor. He leaned back and admired the view of her chest, then glanced up at Ginny before touching her. She gave a quick nod and he let himself feel her breasts in his hands again for the first time in almost a year, massaging them gently, then with more power. Ginny felt herself grow hotter just watching how Harry responded to her. He leaned in and took her right breast in his mouth, using his fingers to play with her left nipple in the way that always drove her mad. She allowed herself to enjoy it fully, moaning as she pleased, arching into him, pulling at his hair as he switched from one to the other.

Before long it was too much, and she grabbed his face and disconnected his mouth from her chest so she could kiss him again. She felt her lips tingle with the touch of his tongue, her skin burn as his hands moved to her back, running down slowly to her waistband, reaching under her pants to touch her bare ass, squeezing and spreading her cheeks gently. God, she loved when he did that. After she kissed him thoroughly enough, and her pants felt too wet to wear anymore, she moved to undo Harry’s belt buckle, which in turn encouraged him to unzip her jeans. She removed herself from him so they could remove what was left of their clothes. Seeing how hard he was for her, full and bare, made her weak in the knees yet simultaneously at her most powerful. She pushed Harry back down on the couch, let her knees give in to the floor, and cupped his balls. “Ginny-” Harry grunted, but before anything else could come out of his mouth she took him in her own, licking up his length, sucking gently as she bobbed her head up and down.

It was only around thirty seconds later that Harry stopped her, pulling her head off of him. “Wait, wait, stop-”

Immediately, she felt embarrassed. “Was that...ok?”

“Oh, God, Ginny, of course, it was more than ok, it was fucking amazing but...but I want to help you out first. Please.”

“Harry, it’s fine-”

“No, please,” he said earnestly. “I want to. I really want to.”

She let go of him and nodded wordlessly. He helped her up, laid her down on the couch, and kissed her gently. He then whispered, “Let me make you happy.”

“You always make me happy,” she whispered back. His features changed from eager to wistful. He kissed her again, much more firmly this time, and then worked his mouth from her neck along her body, over each breast, her stomach, the inside of her thighs, before he reached his final destination. Ginny closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh as he pressed his tongue up and down against her clit.

She didn’t have to think or speak or do anything; Harry knew exactly the way she liked it, no matter how much time in between their sexual activities passed, he never lost track of exactly what made her scream, what made her shake in ecstasy, as she did only a few minutes after he began. As she came down from her high, Harry kissed his way back up her body, until reaching her cheek, which he kissed delicately. “You feel good?” he asked hoarsely.

“Mm,” was all she could respond in the moment, panting from pleasure still.

He chuckled sweetly, kissing her cheek again, then her forehead, then her lips. Once her breathing had steadied somewhat, she heard him speak again. “What else do you want?”

“To fuck you,” she breathed out.

Harry moaned at her words as he pushed his tongue back into her mouth, the vibrations sending tingles down to her toes. “Do you want to move to the bedroom?”

“We can go to your bed for round two,” she told him, smiling widely. “But round one is happening right here, right now on this couch.”

“If you insist,” he said hoarsely, moving over her, wasting not another second. They had already lost enough time.

***

Behind her eyelids, Ginny could feel the light pouring into Harry’s bedroom. She felt a twinge of joy as she moved her arms to find Harry’s torso, but all she could find were the sheets. She opened her eyes and saw that his side of the bed was empty. Her stomach fell as she scanned the room for him. She sat up and heard a bit of clanging around in the kitchen. The bedroom door was half-open. She rose from the bed, opened the drawer where Harry kept his t-shirts, and threw his go-to blue tee over her head. She stepped out of his room and walked down the hall to find Harry, wearing only a pair of boxers and his glasses, his hair as messy as ever, pouring an omelet onto a plate with expert ease.

“Morning,” she said quietly.

He turned to look at her and grinned, looking her over. “Morning. Nice shirt.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone in there. I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet, Harry.” She went to sit at the island and he waved his hands. “No, no, not here!”

“Excuse me?”

“Breakfast in bed ,” he clarified. “I’ll bring it in, you go relax, I just am finishing up on the home fries and then I’ll bring it right in.”

“You sure?”

He waved his spatula in the direction of his room. “Go on, now!”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him fondly before turning around and heading back down the hall. “Fine, but I’m using your bathroom first.”

“Do what you must.”

After using the toilet and brushing her teeth, she settled back into Harry’s bed and scrolled through her phone. Only a few minutes later, Harry entered with their plates, handing one to her and planting a tender kiss on her forehead. Her insides melted at the gesture. She softly thanked him, scooted over and dug in. Harry sat on his side but at the foot of the bed, his legs folded and his plate on his lap, that way he could face her. They ate in silence, exchanging occasional grins. She felt slightly distracted by his shirtless form and the way their feet touched. When she finished she handed Harry her plate. “That was delicious, thank you. Compliments to the chef.”

“My pleasure,” he told her. “I like cooking for people.”

“Perhaps if this teaching thing doesn’t work you can go to culinary school.”

“I know you’re joking, but I’d honestly consider it,” he said as he stacked their empty plates and leaned over to put them on his bedside table. He then sat beside her and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers. “What would you like to do today? That is, if you don’t have any other pressing plans…”

“I do have a hot date or two lined up, but I could always reschedule them for next year,” she joked.

“How kind of you,” he replied, picking up her hand and kissing it. Ginny was finding it hard to control herself with all the seemingly small, natural affection he was showing. “But really, anything in mind?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we’d sleep in half the day- just for old times’ sake?”

Harry chuckled, glancing at the clock. “It’s already 10am. You want to go back to sleep?”

“Well, maybe not right away,” she said, lacking subtlety. “Thought we could do something to tire us out first.”

“Hmm,” Harry pretended to think. “What could that be?”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him, and he sighed, using his free hand to cup her face. After kissing each other sweetly for a minute or two, Harry let go of her hand to grab her and pull her onto his lap. He quickly realized that other than his shirt she wasn’t wearing anything else at all, moaning as he grabbed her ass. He deepened the kiss and Ginny became wrapped up in its intensity, returning it right to him, her hands wrapped up in his hair. Although her body was in the driver’s seat, her mind and heart were racing, thinking about how much this man meant to her, how much she felt like herself when she was with him, how much he made her feel like she could do anything. She cherished every second she could steal with him, before all she’d have is memories to replay until the next time, cementing the feel and the taste of him into her brain. She didn’t want it to ever end.

But not before long, Harry seemed to slow down, and then he pulled away altogether. When Ginny leaned back in to continue the kiss, he barely reciprocated.

“Harry?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Are you okay?”

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I…” He looked at her and she could see the storm of emotions in his emerald eyes. He leaned his head against hers and exhaled. “I’m fine. But...can we pause this for a moment? Can we talk?”

A wave of dread washed over her as she nodded her head and removed herself from his lap. Sensing her tension, Harry grabbed her hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “What is it?” she asked reluctantly.

He inhaled deeply, his forehead creased. “When you leave later today, I… I don’t want it to be like last time.”

“Well, that’s easy then,” Ginny told him, attempting a smile. “All you have to do is text me when I land back in L.A. this time.”

“And what would that imply, exactly?” Harry questioned. “Me texting you, that is.”

“It-” but Ginny realized she didn’t really have an answer- or, at least, she couldn’t give the answer she really wanted. “It would mean that this wasn’t just some meaningless thing to you.”

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Is that what you really thought? Or what you’ll think if you leave later?”

Ginny considered his question. “I suppose not.”

“Of course not,” he corrected her, speaking with conviction as he squeezed her hand. “Ginny… I still-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him. “Don’t say it.”

She wanted to hear him say it, of course she did, but she would never be able to leave if she let him continue. She felt her heart break a bit at Harry’s disappointed expression. “What do you want me to say then?” he asked, his voice quiet but his tone stabbing. “That I don’t care about you? That I don’t miss you? That I don’t think about you every time I try to date someone else? I’m sorry if that’s hard for you to hear, but I have to tell you, I can’t even fathom you thinking for even one second that anything between us could ever be meaningless to me. I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I don’t know how to do this.”

“No,” she said as she put a hand on his leg. She couldn’t take it anymore. He was right, hearing all of that was too hard for her.  Knowing the feelings are mutual “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… The meaningless thing was an overreaction, alright? I know… we’ll always mean so much to each other.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes, his thinking face on. Ginny knew that face too well, and she knew he was trying to work out in his mind how to phrase all his feelings. “I just don’t understand why we gave up two years ago. We did long distance from your senior year in high school through all of college and it was fine. I didn’t want to break up. But you were so insistent that this is what was best once you got a spot on the team and I didn’t want to feel like I had to persuade you to stay together and I just…”

Ginny’s heart dropped into her stomach. There was such an ache in his voice… it hurt her to hear. “I don’t know, Harry, I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing,” she settled on. How could she explain giving up on them to him? To herself? “College was one thing, but as working adults? It just felt like we’d never be in the same place, we’d never be able to actually spend time together… I didn’t want to hold you back. I didn’t realize you…that you would’ve… I thought we were on the same page, I’m sorry.”

“No, I should’ve fought harder for us,” he told her, eyes blazing. “It’s not too late, is it?”

Ginny exhaled as Harry squeezed her hand again. “Harry, I can’t stay here-“

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Well, I can’t ask you to wait for me. I don’t know what’s going to come with my career.”

“I don’t care how far apart we are,” he asserted. “I don’t want to be with anyone else- I’ve tried, and I’m sure you have too, but we always end up back here, don’t we?  I want to be with you. We can figure the rest out as we go. It’s us, you know?”

He smirked at the end of his sentence, and all the feelings she’d been holding in for two years seemed to boil over at once. God, she missed that smile. The same smile as the one she dreamed about every day when she was only 11 and he spent every summer day over at their house with Ron. The same smile that he gave her after their first kiss, and after they skipped the prom and hid out under the bleachers, and when he came home to visit from college for the first time, and when he visited her in her dorm, and when he saw her standing in her bridesmaid dress at Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and then when he took it off of her later that night, and when they bumped into each other at the airport a few months ago, and just last night as she curled up against him in his bed and kissed him goodnight.

Tears warned to spill over, and she cursed herself for blinking one free. Harry put a hand on her face and wiped it for her with his thumb. He looked deeply into her eyes, which only caused more tears to fall. He wiped another for her, and then he kissed one away, and then he kissed her lips so gently she could barely register it.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice for some type of answer.

She looked away from him, staring down at their knees. “I still don’t know, Harry. I’m confused. Everything you’re saying… I want that, I do, but it just doesn’t… seem practical. And… I mean, if we did get back together, what about everything after that? Do you want to stay in Tupelo forever?”

“Not necessarily,” he responded flatly. “I love my job now but I don’t know if I’ll still want to be here in a few years… But do we need to be making those types of decisions now?”

“Well if we don’t, then what? We get back together and three years down the line we break up because we realize we’re still not on the same page? I don’t want to waste either of our time.”

Harry let out a defeated sigh, causing Ginny to look up again. The fire in his eyes was being stomped out by disappointment. “Gin, listen… all I know is that ever since I was sixteen all I’ve wanted is to be with you, whatever it took to make that happen. That hasn’t changed, not one bit, even nine years later. I know we can make it work. If it’s not what you want… I don’t want you to be with me if you aren’t fully in it. But I want to be in your life. I don’t know what that looks like for you right now, but however it does, I’ll be there. Even if that’s only as your brother’s best friend.” He offered a sad smile as he finished.

But you’re so much more than that , she wanted to say, but felt like that’d just be proving his point, and she still felt too confused and overwhelmed. Selfishly, she leaned in and kissed him, long enough to memorize the feeling for later but quickly enough to prevent any further persuasion from the magic of his mouth. She braced herself for her own heart’s self-destruction as she opened her eyes and said, “I think I should go home, now.”

Harry’s sadness lingered for a moment, before he channeled his expertise of shutting down, his features flickering to blankness. “If...if that’s what you want. Let me drive you home, at least?”

She wanted to say no, that she’d just order an Uber, but her mouth betrayed her. “Ok.”

He let go of her hand and stood up. “I’ll, er, just throw on some clothes real quick, then run and grab yours and leave you to get dressed.”

She nodded and watched him throw on a pair of jeans, an undershirt, a jumper, and socks rather haphazardly. She listened as his feet creaked across the hallway floors, and waited with bated breath as he made his way back moments later, handing her a pile of her clothes. She muttered a “thank you” and averted his eyes as she took them.

“Take your time,” he told her gently, and made his way back out.

The moment the door clicked closed, she clenched her eyes shut and pushed out all the tears she could, so none would escape for him to see when she would have to face him again. She wiped her face and felt the warmth leave her as she got up from his bed, her haven. She threw off his shirt and put on her clothes from the night before, but folded up his t-shirt and stuffed it in her purse. It was an unspoken agreement between them that she could take as many of his t-shirts as she liked; he bought extras just for her.

She looked in the mirror, quickly threw her hair back in a low ponytail, and inhaled deeply, as if the air entering her lungs would give her courage to move forward as she opened up his bedroom door and walked towards the entrance.

Harry had his sneakers on, her shoes lined up and her coat ready for her in his hands. She slipped on her shoes and against her better judgment she allowed him to slip her jacket on for her, arm by arm. She hated the electricity that crackled through their every touch. She did not want to leave, she hated herself for leaving, even.

As if he sensed her self-deprecation, he took hold of her hand after it slipped through the sleeve. “Gin, it’ll be okay.”

She didn’t believe him, of course, it was just his typical optimism in order to protect everyone he loved, Except it made Harry look out for everyone else’s comfort at his own expense.

He grabbed his keys and led them out of his flat. They got into his car quietly. Without taking the backroads, the ride was relatively short, only taking 3 songs on the classic rock station of his ancient car radio to make it back to her home, the Burrow.

He parked right outside, which was a mistake, as her mother was out in the front with their family dog, Pig. She was wise enough to just offer a wave and a smile and resume walking with him.

Harry turned to her and asked in a low rasp, “Can I see you again? Before you fly back? Will you still be at your family’s for New Year's?”

“Yeah, I will,” she told him. “I’ll...I’ll see you there.”

Harry nodded. He clicked the unlock button for the doors. “Just...just think about what I said, alright?”

Ginny swallowed, nodding back. “I will.”

He kissed her cheek, his lips burning against her cold skin, and as he pulled away he leaned over to open her door for her. She attempted a smile in thanks, hopped out of his truck, and closed the door gently behind her.

She didn’t look back as she walked through her lawn, as she heard him call out to her mother, “See you soon, Mrs. Weasley!,” as Pig barked merrily at him and Harry laughed out, “I’ll see you soon, too, Pig!” before driving away.

She was grateful that her mother didn’t pursue her as her legs worked their hardest to get her to the door, through the entrance, and up the flight of stairs to her room, into her own bed, waiting for a sense of safety or relief that never came.

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis, Part 2

“Yeah... Steph broke up with me.” I say to him, trying to bring some of the old Kyle’s feelings out to show some semblance of distress but there is nothing to bring out. Instead, I cannot help but go from a fake pout to a giggle. It obviously reads a bit creepy, but Red takes the awkward situation well, nervously laughing to match my giggling before giving a sympathetic grimace. “Oh man, I’m real sorry about that bro, I know you two were super close. Fuck Steph. Maybe we can hang out or do whatever dude, just kind of get your mind off things” he states, as he reaches for a shoulder pat. I reciprocate by pulling him into a hug, much to his surprise, stating “Thanks man, for everything, I don’t think I can be alone right now”. And I never will be.

“Yeah man, anything you need, I’m here for you.” He warmly replies back, giving me a pat on the back. In our embrace, I take a whiff at his chest, remaking on his flavor. Woodsy, fresh cut grass, just a bit acrid and the smell of fresh rain. God he smelled good. I took another deep inhale, moaning imperceptibly before trying to slip inside him. Instead, I am met with disappoint at my inability to get inside my big bro. He pushes me back from my extended embrace with a slight crinkle in his nose, again treating the awkward situation in stride. “But uh, maybe take a shower first” he laughs. 

———

Richard Levi- or “Red” as he was better known- was my Big Bro at Sig Chi. Though, from Kyle’s old memories, it actually wasn’t until I met him a fourth time that I found out his name wasn’t really just “Red”. Apparently, the previous frat president was also a Richard and a less confusing name had to be chosen for the then-freshman. The frat had taken to calling him ‘Red’, on account of his fiery red hair and soon after, the entire school had caught on. Though it was mean-spirited at first, Red never seemed to have been bothered by it, and by the time I arrived, there had only been one “Red” in the frat. Beyond that, my body knew very little about his Big Bro. From these memories it was fairly obvious that he has been trying to connect with the old Kyle after they had been paired, though Kyle was relatively disconnected in their conversations. I’m not even sure why the old Kyle stuck around with all the frat stuff to be honest, since apparently this seemed to occur with all the other members of the frat. If anything, Kyle seemed to only open up around Steph. That is, until I became Kyle. The new Kyle was confident. He was attentive. He was social. In a sense, Me being him had allowed for ‘Kyle’ to be greater than the sum of his parts, we succeeded in areas where the other could not. Where Kyle was oblivious, I was not. Where I could not succeed socially in school, my newly confident self as his body could. In a sense, we completed each other through my possession of him. And I loved every moment of it.

I’ve been living through my forever host Kyle for a few weeks now and it has been nothing short of fantasy. From hanging out with my frat bros to getting hazed to winning a few more games. All of it was worth it. All of it made life feel like life. Even the mundane feels great in his shoes. Waking up, brushing my teeth, exercising. Just living. Knowing it was me inside, me in his skin, using his hands, walking his legs, breathing in his lungs. Ecstasy.

A few of his-well, my- friends noticed the new and improved Kyle. Friendlier, less reserved, smellier. That last bit might have been my fault. I love Kyle, all of him- and that included his musky, putrid odor which has only intensified since his possession. With me running the show, this meat-suit can’t help but respond in kind by rewarding my constant ecstasy in this body with a steady stream of its pheromones. It also probably didn’t help that I had a penchant for covering myself in my team’s scents and for avoiding any of his deodorant. In any case, I found it hot, I wanted people to know what this flesh of mine was. I was Alpha. I was living testosterone. Athlete. Me.

Still, I wanted to make sure I truly did have him forever. My old body had the ability to slip into others and ever since I had become Kyle, this new body has not been able to replicate the same feat. I speculated it was just a byproduct of my fairly recent acquisition but it’s been a few weeks now and I still haven’t had any indication that this body retains my old ability. Of course this came with the worrying thought that, despite all my preparation, all my effort, Kyle was still just a pile of flesh that my old body was just wearing temporarily. No. I can’t think in that way. This is me. I am Kyle.

So of course, I’ve been testing my old abilities in this body, trying with every hand shake, every shoulder hug, any physical connection with someone to get inside them. I’ve been fucking tons of cute guys on campus too, though no one in Sig Chi seems to have noticed. Either that or they had another reason to not bring it up- perhaps they were trying to avoid an awkward situation. In any case, despite all these attempts, I’ve had no such luck with my little possession crusade. At least, I hadn’t until last week. 

The last time I fucked Mark- some cute rando on the 8th floor of my dorm- I left a little of my cum inside him. In just that split second, I felt his mind and body open up to me, and I took advantage of that brief glimpse to jam just a bit of my arm inside. That was when I had my first epiphany. Of course. Me-in-Kyle was like a new body, not just me possessing him, so it only made sense that I had to rebuild my old abilities from scratch. Still, possession in this new Kyle body seemed to operate differently. Maybe it was the extra power from his vitality, but I definitely seemed to maintain the tiniest bit of residual control over Mark. Nothing too crazy, just very slightly influencing some of his decisions the following week like what he wore or making sure he didn’t tell a soul about the half possession. This had some application. My old body had been able to possess groups of people before, though it had some limited uses. For one, they had to be somewhat close to each other, and at some point, I could no longer maintain that state and my physical form had to reconvene, ending the session. This? This was different. Even now I can feel the traces of my control over Mark. Kyle’s sperm must be really fucking virile. Mixed with my latent ability for possession? We were potent.

Before I could ponder what I could do with this new power, I began to feel a bump in the back of this body. Cosmic correction perhaps? Whatever it was, I felt myself being separated from Kyle. From Me. At least, most of myself was overcome with an intense numbness akin to the separation after a possession. One of my arms remained tethered to him, preventing the force from removing me Kyle’s body fully. 

This, of course, chilled me to the bone. I didn’t just possess Kyle... I became him- if we were separated what would happen to each of us? For one, I embedded myself into him, became the crevices of his mind and self. Whatever would left over without me wouldn’t be Kyle or me, so much as it would just be a pile of living flesh. Likewise, what would become of me? The guy who no longer had a separate physical form from Kyle. I looked at my arms, quaking in fear at the events that had just transpired. What I did to me, to Kyle, truly was against the natural order of the universe. Was I on a ticking clock then? Doomed to one day disappear for my sin? I stared at my arms again. That was when I had my second epiphany. I smiled wickedly. So that’s how it was.

Chrysalis. That’s what I called my special little device, my glorified sleeping bag meant to catalyze the process of forever tethering me to Kyle. I have long since disposed of the thing, but it was clear I had need for another run of the Chrysalis. Or rather, a chrysalis. 

The second epiphany came in the arm that I had used to test possession through Mark, the arm that had kept me tethered to my true body, against the natural order. The second epiphany was that I was not complete. It was the need to balance the scales. A separate possession and container were need for me and Kyle to be one. Two became one. So, in much the same respect, what I needed was to balance the books. What I needed was to fully possess another as Kyle, thereby fulfilling the cosmic debt. “One” will stay as one through a process that fulfilled both my of requirements of container and possession. I need to possess someone. I need a human Chrysalis. And I knew just the guy. I immediately started masturbating. I’m gonna need a lot of cum.

So, that’s where I am right now. I’ve been hanging out with Red, nearly every day, making us closer, all the while slipping bits of my seed into him. I started out with just a bit in his water bottle during one of our gym sessions, when he wasn’t looking. God it was hot. I watched him choke a little too, when his mouth came across my wad of goo but nevertheless he downed it like a champ. He laughed the whole thing off but I could tell he was a bit disturbed by whatever was in his bottle. I was able to will him to hug me a half second longer than usual. 

Another time, I baked some nice cookies with a bit of me-juice in them. He found them delicious. I couldn’t help but moan a little when he first bit into it. He moaned too, before sheepishly stating “my bad bro, these are just some really fucking good cookies.” I played along, giving him a “Aww thanks man. Made these special, just for you”. He willfully ignored my wink after.

Half a week ago, I slipped a bit in his shampoo bottle. That was pretty kinky, until I realized he had just washed it all off. So yesterday, I put a big extra batch in his sandwich when he wasn’t looking. That one was apparently extra potent. He took his first bite- big, messy- getting a dribbling of  “Mayo” over his beard. Instinctively, he motioned to wipe it off with a napkin, but stopped him. He watched me quizzically, as I began to scoop the mayo sucking on the little extra I got on my index finger before stuffing the rest in his mouth. “The fuck? Dude...” he chuckled gently as I felt both heat and tension increase. He was huffing, entranced, taking moist, shallow breaths as I tug on his beard, pulling his head closer to mine. “You need a bit more” I whispered, as I began to unbuckle my jeans. Red snapped out of it, pushing me away, whispering “wait... what the fuck man, what was that?” For a few brief moments, we just sat there in awkward silence. He glared at me, before closing his eyes and taking a deep sigh. “Uh, look, I... won’t tell anyone at the frat. ok? Just... don’t ever do that again. Anyways, I don’t even swing... well... Besides-“ he chuckled, returning to his normal self and tousling my hair “You’re my little bro. That’s, kinda... like... incest, you know?”

This one’s a fighter. By now, there’s gotta be a pint’s worth of my cum swimming inside him. Whenever he hangs out with me, I throw a little here and there. A quick squirt here, some extra cream in his coffee there, maybe a little extra icing on that cake. I make sure the parts of me inside him wriggle inside, get him extra hard, slam his brain with some extra dopamine around my scent. By all accounts he should be squirming in ecstasy when I’m around. But Red... he’s a cut above the rest. No matter what I do, he seems to just shrug it off. The most I’ve ever seen was maybe a gaze linger half a second too long.

It’s been a few days of this and I already feel the slightest dull sensation in my body. The universe trying to correct itself. Still, I have faith in my plans. He’s almost ready, I think. And if he isn’t ready, I’ll make him ready. I want this day to be special. The day I become Red and the day I truly become Kyle. 

—End Part 2—

Next one should be up relatively soon...

[addercharmer]

Aizawa Shōta blinked slowly at Tsukauchi Naomasa, the detective was standing on his door holding the hand of a small child, looking somewhere between having a full nervous breakdown, crying, and worryingly serious. 

“Tsukauchi, what can I do for you?” Shōta asked, his voice rough with having been forced out of a nap. 

“Aizawa.” The detective started, paused, took a deep breath and tried again. “Aizawa, could we please come in and speak to you and Yamada?” The hand that was being held by the small child jerked a little to show who ‘we’ were. 

Opening the door further, Shōta turned his back on the detective as a way of granting them entry. He turned on his heel and made his way to the kitchen. He felt like he was going to need several pots of coffee to deal with whatever the slightly older man was going to dump on him. 

The quiet thump of shoes and click of the door shutting were the only indication of the two following his silent invitation. The light steps that he could hear coming closer then further away told him that Tsukauchi was headed to the living room of his home was enough of a warning to have Shōta calling his husband instead of texting like he had been planning. 

It took all of six rings for the other man to answer. "Shō! What's up?" Yamada Hizashi sounded a little breathless as he answered. 

"Tsukauchi is here, with a kid." Shōta grunted into the mic of his cell. "Come home." He ordered the blonde, and hung up before even giving the blond a chance to say anything. 

Shuffling his way into the living room without his coffee, and eyeing Tsukauchi with wry dark eyes, Shōta stiffly sat in his favorite spot on the loveseat that was kiddy-corner to the couch that was being occupied. 

"Yamada is out. I called him to come home, if this can't wait for him then we can get it over with." Shōta told Tsukauchi after he had made himself comfortable. 

He watched closely as Tsukauchi eyes the kid sitting next to him, still gripping his hand tightly. The detective looked closer to having that breakdown the longer he looked at the kid, it was honestly starting to worry the underground hero a little. 

The silence felt like it dragged on far longer than the forty-seven seconds Shōta counted. 

"Probably best to wait, you both will need some support." The last part was muttered under Tsukauchi's breath, and Shōta figured that he wasn't supposed to hear it. 

The next twenty minutes were spent with idle chatter, both adults in the room getting tencer as each minute passed. At twenty-two minutes the front door opened and shut, the sound of heavy boots clunking on the floor as they were taken off and dropped pushed the expression on Tsukauchi's face closer to resigned and sad. 

"Ah, hello Tsukauchi. You needed me home?" Hizashi's voice called from just outside of Shōta's peripherals. 

"Yamada, Aizawa." Tsukauchi's tone was a forced flat, Shōta recognized it as the one that was used for grieving families. 

"I offer my condolences Aizawa. Your sister Midoriya Inko was found dead yesterday morning, the investigation is still open and I cannot share much more." Shōta froze, he hadn't spoken to his sister since his wedding, not that they had much contact before that even. It had caused all kinds of issues when Inko had shown up and recognized Hizashi as someone she had had a one night stand with when they had met at a college party when Shōta and Hizashi had been sixteen. 

"That being said, Midoriya Inko's will stated that her daughter Izumi would go to you and or her biological father first, in the event that she was not welcome there she was to be put in foster care." Many things in Tsukauchi's tone were sending off very loud warning signals that Shōta wasn't sure he even wanted to hear much else. 

Hizashi had grabbed his hand from where he had seated himself next to Shōta when the news of his sister's passing was delivered, he squeezed tighter when the kid was brought up. 

"Yamada, your daughter was dropped off in front of the police station six days ago where officer Sansa and myself have been taking care of her, until her paternity test came back." At this Shōta felt Hizashi stiffen next to him. 

"I would like to introduce you to Midoriya Izumi. She is your niece Aizawa, and your daughter Yamada." The strain in Tsukauchi's voice was very clear, and Shōta idly wondered how his sister had hidden a full on child from him for four years. 

"What?" The question was quiet, but full of hysteria. "No...I...what?" Hizashi tried again before Shōta felt his body just collapse in on itself. 

The words Tsukauchi had said were making their way through Shōta's brain but they weren't fully being processed. 

The sniffle caught his attention finally, it was the first sound he had heard from the kid. Giving his head a firm shake Shōta finally took a look at the kid. 

The kid's hair was a wild mess of waves and curls, it was black but it looked to have lime green highlights naturally sprinkled through it, her eyes were the same toxic green as Hizashis' they even had darker green that spiraled out from the pupil. 

The freckles that were dusted across pale skin reminded him of his own mother, she had been of mixed nationality, holding citizenship in both Japan and Canada. His own freckles would show up when he had been in the sun, which made him avoid the giant ball of burning gas even more no matter how much he missed and tried to remember his mother. 

The kid's ears were starting to turn red much like his own do when he is overly emotional. That observation finally kicked his numb body into moving. 

Still holding his husband's hand in a death grip he dropped off the loveseat and onto his knees in front of the kid who was holding onto Tsukauchi so tightly that her knuckles were white. 

"Hey kid, did Inko ever talk to you about me?" Shōta asked, trying to distract the kid from the coming tears.

The kid 'Izumi' he forced himself to recall shook her head and nibbled on her lip like she wanted to say something. 

"Do you know who I am?" He tried, it was highly unlikely that the kid knew him, but the nod shocked him into staring at toxic green eyes longer. 

"How?" Was out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

"Pictures. Inko had pictures with names and days on the back." Okay there were a lot of things in that sentence and tone that needed to be analyzed later, but Shōta pushed it aside to get some other questions answered. 

Nodding, Shōta asked his next pressing question. "Do you know who he is?" He jerked his head towards the silent blond that was in a still unresponsive heap next to him. 

Izumi nodded again, her ears taking on a deeper red color. "Pictures?" Shōta asked, getting another nod in return. 

Squeezing his eyes closed tightly and shaking the hand that Hizashi was still holding roughly, Shōta was in no way prepared for the next words that were spoken. 

"It's okay if you don't want me, Inko and Hisashi didn't want me, that's why they left me at the police." It was so quiet that Shōta wanted to convince himself that he had imagined it. 

Shōta stilled, he wasn't sure what to say, and he was pretty close to either a panic attack or disassociating much like he husband was doing. 

Tsukauchi cleared his throat, it jerked Shōta out of his thoughts long enough for the detective to say. 

"We came for introductions and to share the information, Izumi will be staying with either myself or Sansa until you two have made your decision. I know it's not protocol...just give me a call later." 

That said Tsukauchi scooped the kid 'Izumi' into his arms and quickly left the two pro-heros alone. 

The click of the door shutting sounded like an explosion to Shōta, it jolted him again just enough to turn to Hizashi and work on bringing the man back to the real world. 

Yanking hard on the hand still gripping his own he unbalanced Hizashi enough to get a stutter in his breathing. 

"Zashi. He's gone, you gotta come back." Shōta demanded quietly. 

Wrapping his free arm around Hizashis' chest Shōta started to tap out the rhythm of an English song that Hizashi had used to randomly belt out in highschool. Giving himself and Hizashi something to focus on would be the only way to keep them grounded, usually it was Hizashi bringing him back but it worked both ways. 

Shōta was just starting the song over for the third time when Hizashi shifted against him and groaned. 

"I'm so sorry Shō. I didn't know. I swear." We're the first words that spilled from Hizashi's mouth. 

"Oh shut up you overgrown cockatoo." Shōta gently in his own way told his husband. 

"You have a daughter that was hidden from you, I have a niece that was hidden from me. My sister is dead, Tsukauchi said nothing of Inko's husband." Saying it wasn't helping it sink in, but he needed to say it. 

"She, Izumi, knows who we are in relation to her. She should be around four?" That question seems to jolt Hizashi a little, and a look between concentration and befuddlement is plastered across his face. 

"Un, three going on four at the youngest." Is the very quiet reply to the question about Izumi's age. 

Shōta pulled in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it out in a rush. 

"Tsukauchi and Sansa are taking care of her, and Tsukauchi asked us to call him later." Shōta told Hizashi the last piece of information.

Feeling the nod against his chest, Shōta just kept tapping the song out. 

"I'm sorry about your sister Shō." Hizashi whispered into the fabric of Shōta's sweater. "I know you weren't close, but, still." 

Shōta shrugged, "Honestly, part of me forgot I even had a sister." He told Hizashi bluntly. "So her death isn't going to bother me too much." It was harsh, but Shōta was being honest. 

"Okay, next thing." Hizashi pulled himself away a little but still kept close enough in Shōta's personal bubble that they could comfort each other. 

"Izumi?" Hizashi asked, Shōta nodded when he realized that it was a question of her name. "Izumi was dropped off six days ago, she had a paternity test done to find her father. I am her father." Hizashi's breathing picked up again. 

"Okay, just stop, let's look at this differently." Shōta spoke quickly. "My sister is dead, she had a daughter, her custody was given to us in the will. I know we have only been married a year…" Shōta paused to take in a deep breath and release it again. "Do you want to take in the kid?"

Hizashi stayed quiet for what felt like forever. "Can we talk to her first?" Was the tentative question. 

Shōta let out another sigh, this one partly relieved and nodded.

[flameohotfamily]

I love all your fics and HC’s. After reading Maiko ff for nearly ten years I finally decided to write some of my own and it’s not getting responded to much. Any advice on if I should keep it up or quit while I’m ahead?

OMG, dear anon <3333333333333

I'm... speechless? Thank you so much! Sending you virtual bear hugs!!!!!

I tell you what. I had been writing my first original story a few years ago, in my second language (not English, hah), and it took me around a year to write it, nearly 400 pages (almost a novel). I posted new chapters every week, I replied to every comment, every mention, I researched every drop of information and read a lot to have a good vocabulary. What do you think how many likes or comments I gained?

About a year after finishing it (plus the whole year I've been writing it and it was free to read at any time), I gained 62 likes under my story. A whole year!! Someone gains 62 likes in one day from a first chapter. Do you think I felt inspired, or creative, or talented?

With my first maiko fic it was even harder, my English level is still low and definitely was on the bottom in spring, and I was so so so scared to post it. Perhaps, in my native language my text would float like a river, in English I tried to write it at least grammarly correct (I failed even with this, seriously, my brain slowly breaks every time when I read something harder than Present Perfect) lol. And what do we have? Almost the same story, I mean, none of my fics has at least 100 kudos even now. Maybe you asked a wrong person for advice after all.

I become upset when I notice a mistake in my writing, I get frustrated every time when I read gorgeously written fics or stories (not because they are written gorgeously, but because I cannot write like this and I feel like a complete failure), I'm angry at myself every time when I cannot write at least a line for a new chapter. I guess, I might know how you feel sometimes.

But all of this is... strangely okay. Writing is a process, it's your learning and growth. Your mistakes, your frustration, your critical view of your texts, your insomnia at 4 a.m. when you have weird inspiration, your sitting in front of your notebook or laptop waiting for some creativity from above, your tired amused smile when you see a short comment under your work.

There is a great quote from one Talmudic sage, Hillel the Elder: “The shy man will not learn; the impatient man should not teach.” And I think it describes a lot of things perfectly. I know it takes courage to start, to write, it takes courage to post your work, it takes courage to read a comment from some critic who tears to pieces the text that you've been carefully writing for three weeks or even more. It takes courage. And you already did a good job and made great efforts by writing something and posting it, and I'm very very proud of you!!! You stepped outside from your comfort zone, you stepped over your shyness and insecurity, you're learning and it's... it's awesome!!!

I tell you honestly, yesterday I wanted to delete my modern au fic because I have no inspiration, motivation or power to continue it. Last week I wanted to delete this blog because I felt exhausted and I saw all of it as a useless waste of time (I mean, how many 20 y.o. make a whole blog about two cartoons? In this era of productivity and glowing up and making your own business from everything?). I burned out some time ago, and I'm still recovering from it. Some of my readers ask me when they can expect a new chapter, and I have no answer. Because I literally force myself to write and it doesn't feel right. I still get upset when my text is not smooth and beautiful, when I cannot find the words, or I simply don't know the grammar, I still doubt that I might sound ridiculous and no one talks like that (no one speaks English in my surroundings, so it's a kind of challenge), I still feel an urge to delete all of it. Or start to write in my native language at least, because personally for me it takes so much time to create something in English.

But the whole point of writing is that you should enjoy what you're doing. As long as you love writing in general, your texts and these characters, I think you should continue. Maybe write only for yourself, maybe for those five readers who would read everything that your mind would ever create, maybe for a big audience of your followers. Even if no one ever would appreciate it or comment it, I think you should write.

Take your time, rest some time, don't exhaust yourself, make something you're usually enjoying doing, whether it to listen to your favorite music, or reread your favorite book, or drink your favorite coffee/tea. And open a new page. Maybe you would write only one new line for a whole day or week, maybe you would write a chapter during one evening, who knows. But don't stop writing and don't give up on yourself so easily. Even a small step is progress, and even one kudos/like/comment means that someone somewhere spent their time reading your texts. Maybe you should quit it for some time, but please don't act too harshly and wipe everything out. Take days off, think about it, remind yourself why do you love this ship and why did you feel a desire to write about them, remember which positive emotions maiko or other ships/shows/stories etc. bring personally to you. Maybe you just need a break (I have a break right now, it's okay, it's refreshing).

Our maiko fandom is a tiny island between large oceans of other pairings (you know what I mean, since you're far longer in this fandom than me). We're small and unpopular, and underrated and even bashed sometimes. So I genuinely feel happy and grateful when I see new maiko content!! That's why I'm trying to support everyone who creates something new, or just appreciates it with kind words and positive vibes. What I'm trying to say, you are appreciated and welcomed, and it's great and wonderful that you decided to make a contribution into maiko family/nation/fandom or how you used to call it.

I know that perhaps I sound too motivational and supportive, but when I say it, I truly mean it - I'm ready to support every new maiko creator!! Because that's what some people here did and are doing for me, because that's what we're all supposed to do. Support and encourage each other. I wish I'd known who you are and seen your works, anon. Please feel free to write me here on in messages (don't be scared or embarrassed, I'm just like you!!!), and share your work. Write me, any of you, guys. I'm not a writer, I haven't written a masterpiece, I'm not a good advisor, but I'm ready to support you and help you to spread more maiko and your writings, and even share some of my experience if it might be helpful.

I hope I answered to your question. I feel so so honored and complimented that you've written me, so thank you!! Hope it helped, at least a little.

Send you, dear anon, and all the maiko shippers a lot of inspiration and positive thoughts. I bet you all are super talented and creative and deserve only the best things. Enjoy your writings and the process of creating, and don't be too hard on yourself because you're incredible <33

[spooky-draws-stuff]

Robbie woke up in his bed. He stretched out his arms before kicking away the sheets. Standing up, he walked out of his room and into the kitchen. Robbie didn't have a job of his own, he couldn't get hired anywhere.

Schneep was cooking hashbrown potatoes on the stove. The coffee maker made a gentle hum, and there were two mugs next to it. Schneep's house was neat and tidy. He kept a cabinet filled with whiskey and coffee grounds. The cream and sugar were in a separate place near the coffee maker on the counter top.

The pantry was stalked with lots of ingredients for cooking, Schneep kept a fair amount of fruits and vegetables in his house, including chicken and fish in the freezer. After Schneep finished cooking the hashbrowns, he put some on a plate for himself. He poured Robbie a glass of water, and then brought over the two coffee mugs. The one filled with whiskey was his, and the sugary cream one belonged to Robbie.

Schneep drank his coffee in silence and ate his breakfast. When Schneep was finished eating he spoke. "I'm sorry for being too hard on you. You're like a kid, and I don't understand kids. I understand your mentality is different from your body's age, it's part of your condition. I just need you to tell me what's going on with you. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I'm worried about you."

Robbie put down his mug. He spoke softly, muttering at first before speaking clearly. "Why worry...About me...? I'm just lazy...A thing to care for...So much work....Do you even try anymore....?" Robbie buried his head under his arms hiding.

"Don't...Don't say that to me..." Schneep's voice quivered. He held his mug close to him. "I'm not a failure...I can't be..." he thought to himself.

Robbie tapped his fingers on the table. His voice was mopey and dull. "Why don't you talk to me anymore...Why can't I eat...Like you...I want to eat like you. I want to, I want to, let me eat like you."

Tears formed in Robbie's eyes.

Schneep sighed deeply, trying to hold himself together. "Until I find a cure to change your digestive system, I will keep looking. Your body rejects things because it cannot process normal food."

Schneep explained.

Robbie put his hands over his face, and shook his legs. "I can't be a monster...I don't like eating organs from people...I want to be human like you....I hate myself..." he stuttered and paused awkwardly between sentences, tears gushing out of his eyes as he started screaming. "MY BRAIN IS SO FUCKED UP AND YOU DON'T EVEN TRY TO HELP ME! YOU BUY ME SHIT AND IT ISN'T WORKING!!" Robbie moved his hands away from his face and stood up, running away to his room. He slammed the door and hopped onto his bed, hiding under the blankets.

Schneep walked somberly to the living room. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jackie's number. "Hello? Oh hey doc, how's it going?" Jbm's usual cheery voice echoed from the phone. Schneep sat down. "I don't know how to help Robbie anymore. I know his species of zombies are malnourished and their bodies age foward too quickly. I understand he needs vitamins, so I buy him those. He can drink things and not get sick, but can become very ill with normal food. I steal organ donations from the hospital to feed him."

"Anti scares him by bringing Rob corpses. I know he's just trying to help in his own messed up way." "You know I look at Robbie and all I see is an adult, and then I forget in his mind he's still a teenager with different feelings on the inside. He can't even go outside without people staring, so he just plays with a plastic cube and hums to himself because he's scared. He's terrified Jackie, and I don't know how to prepare him for the real world."

" I've never raised kids before." I scanned his brain yesterday. He has a moderate depression disorder and is developing generalized anxiety. I bought him new meds recently, and this morning he started crying and screaming and I feel like I'm failing him. I'm doctor dammit, and I can't even help my friend. What do I do?"

"Ok watch it there buddy. Calm down, I got this. Tell him how you really feel, hug him. Let them know you care about them on an emotional level. I think it's great you buy him watercolors and toys, and he gets to taste great things like pizza before spitting it out. You gotta understand though, there's more to helping someone then just meeting their physical needs. You need to help him mentally, spend time together. Talk more often. I know your busy but your work at the hospital is running you down." "Have you considered a vacation?"

Jackie always had good advice since he learned how to help chase through his depression, along with his own personal issues.

"Will you talk to him for me? Please?" Schneep sipped some whiskey from his coffee mug.

Robbie's phone made noise. Robbie, who was lying down under the sheets on his bed answered calmly but with a sad tone.

"ugh...Who....Is....This?" he questioned.

"Hi there. It's me your friend!" "Listen, I wanted to tell you something important."

Jbm was interrupted. "Friends? I don't have....Any...Friends...." Jbm made a frustrated noise. "That's not true! I'm your friend silly! And I'll always be there for you!" "Listen to me please...I know you're having a hard time right now but Schneep really cares about you and is trying his best to help you feel better. If he didn't care about you he wouldn't have bought you cool stuff like video games, comic books and pizza! He wouldn't have given you a watercolor art set for your birthday, or taken you to the park were your favorite type of butterflies live!" "I know what it's like to be depressed. To be scared out of my mind. To have scars, to be in pain. Your life doesn't have to be that way. What matters right now is that you're here, and you're alive. Who the fuck cares what other people think?!" "So what if you have communication issues? Don't let that stop you from chasing your dreams!"

Jbm took a break to breathe. Robbie is crying but he's smiling hugging a pillow.

"YOU ARE THE MOST WONDERFUL PERSON I HAVE EVER MET IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! YOU ARE SO AWESOME TO HANG OUT WITH AND IF YOU DON'T START TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR FUCKING DOOR DOWN, DRAG YOU OUT OF BED AND TAKE YOU OUT FOR A WALK. DRINK THAT WATER! GET THAT SLEEP!" Jbm shouted from over the phone.

"Thank you..." Robbie stuttered before hanging up. He smiled holding the phone in his hands. He turned on the Tv to his favorite show and grabbed a bag of gummy bears. He may not have been able to eat it, but at least he could taste it.

[wisteria-lodge]

badger primary + lion secondary (bird model)

Hi! I am so hyped to find your blog - I have been following SHC for a while now and this is one of my hyperfixations lmao. Anyway, I am wondering if you are able to take the time to help me figure out my primary and secondary. I have a hard time trusting my instincts and experiences because of PTSD.

I’ll keep in mind that you’ve probably dealt with/are currently dealing with some burning. 

Even though I have an idea of what I could be, it will be nice to get some external validation. (I’m bad at explaining my internal thoughts sometimes).

That is something that Lion primaries struggle with… but it might also be a burnt secondary thing. 

My morals are largely based on social justice oriented structures of oppression. I have always felt this even growing up but after I finally learned the actual language for the power structures that uphold oppression in school (like capitalism), I realized that I’ve always intuitively used some kind of structure like that to assess morality but it was nice to learn the language and be able to talk about it and explain it to others. 

Definitely leaning Lion primary for you. 

An example would be as a child when I found out that Nike was using child laborers to make their sneakers, I just boycotted Nike and told my family I was boycotting Nike. 

I’d be really interested in knowing what the thought process behind this decision was. Was it “child labors are people too” (Badger) “This is Wrong!” (Lion) or “this piece of information makes me re-think my model of how the world works” (Bird.)

Currently, I am struggling to be a good “Daughter” (i’m nonbinary but my family expects me to be a nice afab daughter) who performs family duties well, and living who I am authentically. It makes me super miserable.

You’ve got Lion somewhere in your system. Either primary, secondary, or both.

The thing that keeps me stuck between lion and badger primary is while I do find things right and wrong and sometimes, a lot of what I find right and wrong is based on people. For example, I get annoyed at a lot of activist communities because they like to play this I’m the Next Top Activist game, and start shaming people who are not able to give their 100% to the cause, and I think that just… super ableist. I often struggle with being in activist groups for that reason because I find myself disagreeing with the ways they may intentionally and unintentionally exclude people with disabilities, or people in other marginalized groups. And the minute that someone is joining a cause to advance their own agenda and profile or ease their own guilt…they’re no longer supporting the cause in my opinion. I can’t just be nice to a politician without really trying to suppress my desire to call them out. It’s really uncomfortable to - like for example, asking a politician for money even though that money was our tax money in the first place. 

This is interesting. And this part actually got me thinking Badger because - it’s just so focused on groups, organizations, and communities. What really makes you get up in the morning is this feeling that all people matter. So you’re  tuned into issues of accessibility, and what’s happening with our tax dollars. But then, you are also crossing out categories of people yourself. Like, if they’re not a True Believer, you don’t want to deal with them. If they’re a politician, you don’t want to deal with them. It’s a very Badger impulse, but be careful there. 

My secondary is tough because while I try to plan, I always forget about my plan. I end up improvising on the spot, and I like shortcuts, but I also cannot pretend to be someone I’m not. It’s hard for me to deal with workplace professionalism and act respectable as I always have to think about what I can’t say or else I will get in trouble. I’ve gotten in trouble in the past for my mouth.

The badger side of me shows when I am noticed for showing up at things I support. I tend to take on supportive roles in the causes I’m involved in because of my lack of energy (I deal with a lot of mental health stuff that limits my energy) and I’m also dealing a lot with my neurodivergence which makes communicating and public speaking sometimes difficult for me. 

I don’t tend to take on leadership roles willingly, but I notice people always coming up to me and asking for my lead on things because they notice what I’m doing. I got my current job because my supervisor approached me at the company holiday party and asked if I would be interested in applying because she noticed the work I did in my previous role. 

Everything about this is very Lion secondary, *especially* the bit about easily falling into leadership positions. Lion secondaries are inspirational, and they tend to gather armies around them. 

I grew up super shy and things overstimulated me a lot so thats why the lion secondary sometimes feels like it doesn’t fit me. 

Probably your Lion secondary was somewhat burnt when you were younger, but it seems REALLY fiery now. 

Ok I realized I rambled a LOT (lmao hyperfixation). Please let me know if you need more info from me if this isn’t enough! Also, if you are out of capacity and don’t get to this, that’s ok too. Thank you so much for reading and for your time!!

I’m sorry about another ask! I submitted a post yesterday (frantasticlyfran) and I realized I forgot to include why the quiz would sometimes put me as snake primary! So a lot of the choices in my life I made because of my mom. My mom is a cancer survivor. I originally went to study film and biology because I thought that making health info accessible would have saved my mom a lot of trouble with chemo and its awful side effects. Now, I am doing more policy work and studying mental health because I realized that I enjoy working on the ground with people more than doing work that seems removed from why I’m doing it (which film sometimes feel that way). The film world was also really awful to me on principle and the way that it doesn’t pay its workers, or the way it tokenizes communities of color. Now, I still think about my mom a lot as I study mental health and how I want to make mental health accessible for low income, queer, and trans communities of color. 

Sometimes it can be really hard to see your own primary, because you only live inside your own head. It’s hard to see the forces that dominate your life as things that don’t dominate the lives of everyone else. 

Anyway, here is a list of communities you are specifically concerned with and motivated by:

Chemo patients

The film industry (derogatory) 

Underpaid workers

Low income people of color

Queer people of color

Trans people of color

You’re a Badger. 

As a kid, because I struggled with social cues (yay autism lol), I also tended to stick to a few friends and tried to model their behaviors and expressions. That is why sometimes the test would put me as snake primary.

Yeah, that’s an Actor Bird model. I’ve got one too, for the same reason. 

The other thing I forgot to mention was the fact that I sometimes come off as a bird secondary because I like to be prepared when it comes to bringing a ton of stuff when I’m traveling. I end up overpacking and bringing maybe way too many things and sometimes it’s like super not practical. But I do tend to come off as prepared because I’ve also gotten in trouble with others for not preparing enough in the past lol because people would get upset at me for not providing them guidelines or preparations when I usually just, jump in and learn on the spot and forget that others need me to provide guidance and prep work.

Lion secondary, Bird model.

[meandmyechoes]

The more I think about Dark Disciple, the more I find something odd.

[28th March 17:46]

I keep referring to it as a ‘favourable experience’, and there is no question the writing is what made me fall totally head over heels about quintress, but I also just, can’t?

I mean, yes. It’s very passionate, dramatic, scenes and gestures I can only dream of. But I also, don’t really see it in that ’omg they totally belong together here are my sixty headcanons of them’ sense?

I am very involved in the pairing, but also don’t really, actively ‘ship’ it — like the way it was an open book with Rhayme or Latts Razzi (since it’s the same author that indoctrinated me to Captain Rhayme). I could imagine them being happily ever after and silly shenanigans and slow-burn. But the concept of a quintress fairytale ending is so wild. I can only ask how much it is tainted with my personal view on relationships.

I know the plot leaves little room for “the future” and fed us well on all tropes possible. But, it just never occurred to me to put them in any other clichés or invent a missing scene.

Winding up, I don’t think their relationship is "weak", but it’s very motivated by circumstances and once you take that out of them, you are a little bit lost. For example even during the illicit affairs month, I… can’t really propose one date that does not seem tonally insensitive. (I can think of them being cloak dorks and Vos bringing her to ice-cream, that’s it, after a long hard moment) Really, all I possibly want is that sweet, sweet angst and canon is already there so I have no complaint.

It’s just… I don’t really get why it has to be the two of them that fall for each other. I understand why they did, and I believe it— Perhaps it’s much more a physical attraction thing that I don’t really have personal experience with.

I don’t know if quintress classify as slow-burn because 10 chapters still seem a little quick in the grand scheme of things. (aside: I’m quite disappointed Ventress wasn’t doing much in the last quarter of the book.) My point is, they do feel a little bit puppet to tropes, and while it’s deliciously written, there’s not much potential outside of canon. And that lack of inspiration makes me grimace a little.

[3rd April, 01:39]

I’ve scrolled through the dd tag and let the book sank a little. I am better articulated to talk about the sexist criticism now.

It’s a romance story, and when I judge it by that (lower) standard, it ticks the boxes. However, it might be a weakness as well, due to the projectability of the heroes. And yes, the whole assassination is dumb. Yet, tcw has been consistently this dumb at us. The last two times when she’s more rooted in the dark she failed, sent Savage and failed, so she’s gonna do it again with Vos… after she put down her desire for revenge. right. and surprise! Our “assassination” plan is to find Dooku and duel him directly. right…

I’ve read a review that says the romance takes away from the plot. However, the romance IS the plot. The book IS supposed to revolve around the two of them. I do agree them becoming begrudging allies then partners is a more unique approach, more rewarding as foils as well. but I guess a romance is easier for the conventional to process ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

With the “Ventress lose agency in falling for Vos”. Now, I can’t dictate how each of us buy into their physical attraction and chemistry (or lack thereof), and there’s no denial that a conscious human being is making that choice for the fictional character, I think the stance on this topic varied person to person from the above two factors, which are very different starting points.

I kept Katie Lucas’s foreword vividly in mind while reading. She said this is a story about people seizing chances to rebuild. That there’s always a choice. Cliché as it is, I believe ~the power of love~. I believe there exists someone you’re willing to sacrifice everything for, to overlook everything for, to forgive - to love them, warts and all. So, yes whether you think Ventress loses her agency to the romance, or if that’s a conscious choice on her behalf, is swayed heavily by how much you buy that they are the one.

[10th April, 10:30]

Yesterday I’ve been thinking a bit more about this. I do love this ship, I just don’t believe they’d be two people who find each other again and again in every life time, in every universe. That’s why, as magnificent as fireworks, it also won’t last.

To explore this, it’s not entire impossible for quintress to separate peacefully after this incident, but would that cheapen the build before? The entire motivation of dark!Quinlan hinges on his vision of their future. And say, Ventress did saved him and survived. How would he balance being a Jedi and his feelings - that’s publicly exposed to the Council? (sidenote: i really don’t like Ch. 27 where a bunch of old men are questioning their love life, but uhhh yes, I’m a sensible person!) For now, I’m seeing another Obi-Satine situation. And honestly how bad that an outcome is. It’s not like Ventress died for her war crimes! The show gave her a full pardon! So Idk man. Why can’t she leave him because she loves him and she exiled herself and they never see each other again WHY NOT FILONI WHY NOT.

Now I’m lamenting more what could’ve been with the two arcs. In Filoni’s original sketch, Aayla and Maul were involved. Man, that could’ve been the dream.

~~~

Part 2: [26th April, 15:15]

It has been… a month, since I finished Dark Disciple and I feel like it’s time to conclude all the thinking this book has made me do.

On the wider reflection about attachment and the Jedi Order, I still have to do more reading on it from other sources to form a concrete opinion. This theme won’t be touched on in this post yet, but I cannot shake how intriguing it is to compare “falling” in love to falling to the dark side. The temptation, and the submission to their emotions, the irrationality, the newfound curiosity, it all incites. Very curiously, it was Anakin Skywalker who commented that one is “blinded by love”

Okay, so what I’ve been scratching my head off the past two weeks is how I look at the romance between Asajj Ventress and Quinlan Vos. How would I define it?

Now this is as much as an exploration of how I view romantic relationships. Well, I’ve decided it wasn’t “love”, it was an “affair”. It was an affair because it’s a rush of passion, it’s a secret, it won’t last. Before I chop my own head off for bluntness, I mean it in, of course they are hopelessly in love with each other, that’s the exact premise of why it moved me so. But it wasn’t a complete relationship, wasn’t a healthy, sustainable one by any objective standards. Then, that’s the exact contradiction. Oh to throw caution in the wind with you, or to build a future with you?

Both are things I want a lot, and the ideal is of course one after the other. What quintress had (in the end) is definitely not something I’d want for myself, but it’s so fantastical, it’s alluring, just like the concept of falling in love - opening up yourself and trusting another person, is - it’s risky. That’s why it’s a sweet, sweet drug.

I’ve been so angry at all the red flags in this relationship. Reading this book, getting into both of their shoes, yelling NO like their best friends. But ultimately, what they had is unique to them and I can’t influence it in any way. Re-reading, I find myself holding myself back at all the places I was furious about going ‘You are smarter than this!’. Because it’s a tragedy, and the beautiful (I guess) thing is they chose each other.

The other day something on the dash inspired me to really think about ship dynamics. I, unashamedly admit, I’m VERY into Obi/Quin/Ventress in any and all combinations. *cough* I will not explain further.

I do accept the premise and I did discover they share quite a bunch of traits, but it confused me a while what made them cross the boundary, and it was, physical attraction (that the book was selling so hard I was blushing hot). I love them both a lot, and I would like to date them both, and I can see myself in either of them. Again comes the contradiction, is it a good thing to have characters so easily projectable, or do I want to see myself in more complex characters like them?

I probably lost quite a few cars stalling this train of thought. And I've been a canon apologist since forever. This book brought me a lot of emotional upheavals and a lot of food for thought. It brought me down to reflect on my romantic worldview and sexuality because I have nothing better to do. It totally challenged me as a writer and it’s just a really good novel by its right, regardless of the absurdity that is The Clone Wars. It’s a lot of firsts for me. And I really should find something better to do.

[26th April 16:00]

I must address that I got spoiled of the ending and the first and second half of the book probably went through some big changes.

If I cried for this book, it’s score would be even higher. And I’ve been so obsessed with discussing the relationship, without shedding light on the characterization, which is definitely an unfortunate side effect. Then it occurs that quite possibly the second half (26-42) deviated even further from the script than the first? It doesn’t have concept art or blocking, plus possibly (heavily) edited to omit correlation to other arcs. My major complaint for the second half is Ventress doesn’t do much and we know NOTHING about Vos, even though he is given screen time in the book. my, I just wish Ventress punch him harder and drag his idiotic mess back to the light sooner.

And to criticism about it being their ‘toxic’ relationship being portrayed as ‘true love’, well, it really depends on how thoughtful the reader is, right? I think if the reader is able to notice all these red flags and gave their own interpretation of the relationship and its outcome, it’d’ve been an educating experience. There’s what for the reader and what for the characters. They don’t know this ‘love’ is destroying them, and what kind of message is it sending? What ‘love’ depicted in the book is true then? I have my answers, and I hope every reader comes to their own as well.

[mrscolesprouse]

Bughead and Friends Drabble Challenge: May Edition

Day 5/Prompt 1: Don’t Call Me That

(Optional) Genre: Fantasy/Fairytale

part 1

part 2 - continuation of yesterday’s story

(i was so much better at this ‘drabble’ concept the first time...i may as well call this a oneshot 😅 *this will be posted on ao3 at the end of the week)

*also i hope this is edited okay...i’m sorry for any mistakes*

He chases her out to the gardens, “Betty—“

She turns and stops, making him stop too, and interrupts harshly, “Do not call me that. My name is Elizabeth. That is how you should address me, your Highness,” she spits out his label like a bad word. 

The prince shakes off her incivility and looks down at her in awe, “You look so beautiful.”

The lady in waiting’s face crumbles and she shakes her head, “You are not supposed to be looking at me. You are supposed to find yourself a wife tonight.”

Jughead groans indelicately, “I’m looking at the woman I want to be my wife.” 

Betty closes her eyes and shakes her head again, “I am not from Seaside, you can’t marry me for alliance. I am not fit to be a princess or a queen, I am just a lady in waiting. A humble servant to you and your family. I live in the castle. What would people think if they found out we were in love? What would they think if they found out we have spent the night together, out of wedlock? What would they think of you, Prince Forsythe, Riverdale’s future king?” 

The prince turns his head behind him, to where the party bustles on in the grand ballroom, where thousands of potential suitors are waiting for him in poofy dresses with gleaming smiles. He turns back to look at Betty in her simple blush gown, with its peasant sleeves and it’s low, sparkling neckline, showcasing her breasts beautifully. 

The breasts he’s kissed and sucked many times. 

Her matching shawl hangs off her elbows and her golden hair cascades around her shoulders. Her fair skin is highlighted by her subtle makeup making her the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen. 

No one can compare. 

“Betty, none of those things matter to me if I don’t have you. I will find another way to form an alliance with Seaside.” 

He steps closer to her and places his hands on her face, “Your ranking means nothing to me, I do not care that you are not a princess.”

He rests his forehead on hers and her eyes flicker shut at his tenderness, “If people find out we are in love, so be it. I am the luckiest man alive to be loved by you and—“ 

He kisses the softness behind her ear before kissing down her neck softly and looking back up at her to finish, “I am certainly the luckiest man alive to have been able to lay with you in bed.” 

He tilts his head to kiss her softly and she responds eagerly. The prince pulls out and leans to her ear, brushing his lips against her as he speaks, “You are so desirable, it is so hard to keep my hands off you. Thinking of you in my bed, writhing against my sheets, muttering things in my ear that would get you exiled from the castle for even thinking, arouses me more than you know.” 

Betty moans gently into his ear and he pulls back to look into her eyes, now dilated just as his are. 

She steps back, regaining herself, pulling her out of his hold in the process. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “I know what you are doing. You have to stop. We have to stop. It cannot be this way.”

A wave of anger bubbles up under his skin and a scowl finds its way onto his face, “What do you want me to do, Elizabeth? Yell to everyone in there,” he points to the castle behind him, “that I love you? Because I will. I will shout it from the terrains, across the ocean, through the planes. I will do anything to show you that it is you. It has always been you, Betty.” 

A twig snaps behind him and he turns his head to see his mother and father approaching. He closes his eyes and sighs before opening them and turning back to Betty. Betty looks around Jughead to see the king and queen and she looks up at him, frightened before looking at them again. 

“Son, you are required to be inside, acquainting with as many maidens as possible. You cannot just expect a wife overnight,” the king says as he stops a couple of meters in front of Betty and Jughead who are now side by side facing the king and queen. 

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, it is my fault,” Betty interrupts. She turns her head to look at the prince before continuing, “I was just telling the prince that I received a letter from my mother this morning.”

A letter? he thinks, I was not made aware of any letters.

She turns her head back to the king and queen but Jughead’s eyes burn holes in the side of her face as she speaks, “She suggested I travel to Greendale to find myself with God in the nunnery, as my sister was wed at my age and I am yet to find a husband.” 

“Pardon?” Jughead whispers in disbelief. She is leaving?

The king and queen turn their gaze onto their son in confusion but Betty speaks again, ignoring the prince’s comment, “So, I came outside to say my goodbye. I know this is not professional but you have become like a family to me and I thought a hasty exit would be better than staying around any longer.” 

“Betty, no,” Jughead whispers for only Betty to hear. She still does not look at him. 

The queen steps forward, and opens her arms, inviting Betty in for an embrace, a sad smile on her face, “We will miss you, Elizabeth. Forsythia will miss you, dearly. Thank you for being such a wonderful part of her life. I hope you find what you’re looking for in the convent.” 

Betty pulls out from Gladys’ hold and Jughead can see the sparkle of tears running down her beautiful face, “Me as well.” 

He can see her sneak a peek at him before looking at the king, “I am sorry for dragging your son away. I should go pack my things,” she finally turns to look at him and he looks at her hopefully, “I hope you find a wife. I hope she brings you happiness.” 

She bows politely before scurrying away, through the gardens to get back to her room in the castle. Jughead stands, speechless. 

She is leaving him and she barely said goodbye. They barely finished their conversation. 

He does not want to get married to somebody else. He does not want to live without her. He does not want to be unhappy for the rest of his life. 

His father is speaking to him but the prince is still astounded. He is barely listening to his father’s musings, “...inside...Sir Lodge’s daughter...beneficial for Riverdale...”

“Stop!” He looks up at his father, “God, please just shut up.” 

The queen gasps softly, “Forsythe—“ 

“No, mother, father. I am done. I want to help Riverdale as much as I can, but when it impacts my own happiness, my own future, I am sorry but I cannot do it.” 

The king looks at him tiredly, “Son, what are you talking about?”

Jughead looks between his mother and father before turning to look at where Betty had previously exited. He is done. He is done with always doing the right thing for everyone but himself. 

Pursuing his feelings for Betty had been the first real thing he had done for himself. When she expressed that she reciprocated his feelings, he was truly over the moon. They’d begun to see each other clandestinely, sneaking around the castle and avoiding guards to keep themselves a secret. Their relationship made him happy to wake up in the morning, happy to serve as the prince, happy to do all his father and mother asked of him, as long as he can find himself back in her arms. 

He cannot give that up.

“I love Betty,” he declares with zero hesitance, “I am in love with her. I cannot, will not marry anyone but her.”

The king sighs loudly and rubs his temples in frustration. The queen sighs, “How long, Jughead, have you been—?”

“Over a year, mother.” 

Gladys sighs again and the prince continues, “I love her. I cannot let her go. She never told me she received a letter from her mother. She never told me she would be leaving. Ever since word got out that I would need to marry, we have been trying to figure out a way to make everyone happy and let us remain together but I am guessing she sent a letter to her mother and now she is leaving.”

The king finally speaks, looking more annoyed than ever, “Forsythe, I understand you are in love but what are we supposed to do about Seaside? They are very persistent in sending soldiers to start a war and we cannot have that.” 

Jughead points his finger enthusiastically, looking more like the young twenty-year-old he is and less like a prince with the weight of the world on his shoulders, “I thought about that. We could propose a treaty of solidarity with Seaside. Compromise with them. Put off the war for a couple of years and then see how they feel about the union of a marriage with their prince, Stephen Peabody and JB.

“I’ve talked with Stephen and he shows promising signs at the age of sixteen. He is more unprejudiced than his parents, he will lead Seaside well. And we all know JB is disappointed she will never inherit the Riverdale throne so maybe this way she can be a queen,” he finishes with an exhale. He has said his piece.

The king rubs his head, “Son, if you had come to us with this earlier, a lot could have been avoided. We are trying to give you the liberty to make decisions so that you are ready to become king and this was a very well thought out plan. But, maybe do not wait as long to tell us about something that makes you happy and maybe do not wait to tell us your ideas. You are our son, our future king, but we are still the rulers of Riverdale.”

His mother steps forward and wraps her arm around Jughead’s, placing her chin on his shoulder, “I do not know how I feel about deciding my sixteen-year-old daughter’s future before she even knows about it, but I know her and I know she wants to be a queen, so I do not think she would hate the idea.”

Jughead scoffs and rests his head on his mother’s, “I agree. I even asked her. She has met Stephen, calls him ‘Sweet Pea’ so I think she encourages the idea.”

The king nods and smiles tiredly. There is a silence that comes over them and the prince exhales. His mother turns her head to look up at him, “What are you waiting for? She would still be in her chambers. Go get her.”

Jughead looks down and picks a ball of lint off his tunic, “What about the ball?”

The king chuckles, “Who cares about the ball? We will inform the women that you have found your love. All is fair in love and war.”

The prince chuckles and nods before detaching himself from his mother and running through the gardens towards her chambers.

~~~

He crashes open the door of her chambers to see her zipping up a large suitcase. She turns her head to look at him in shock, “What are you doing here, Forsythe?”

He marches up to her and places his hands on her face before leaning forward and kissing her passionately. She responds eagerly and wraps her arms around his neck.

He pulls out and smiles, looking more youthful and happy then she has ever seen him, “I told them. We’re okay. We are going to be okay. We are going to be happy. And we are going to be together.”

She smiles widely, her eyes welling with tears before leaning forward and kissing him once more.

[hs-writing]

102

Note: I wrote this in 2015, based off of the song 102 by the 1975

Warning: Smut

Words: 2k

(him)

This was normal for us, sitting here at the common under the dimly lit street light. I couldn’t stop staring at her. Her lips curved upwards when she caught me staring at her. She was the best thing that has ever happened to me, even though I have yet to call her mine. No one sees the sides of her that become apparent when she is with me. She seems as if she’s glowing from the mixture of the street lights and the shine of the moon as she smokes one of the cigarettes I had bought just an hour ago.

“You know, time is weird.” She says, letting out a smoke filled breath.

“And why is that?” I answer in genuine curiosity.

“Have you ever thought about the fact that you can’t go back in time? That every second that passes dies with every ticking hand of a clock? Death is inevitable. We can’t stop or freeze time for any allotted amount of time, no matter how much I would love to stop it here with you. To be honest, thinking like this, this late at night, about time and death frightens me, but you, this place, these cigarettes, they ease my thoughts. Although we are physically unable to stop the time, I feel as if I can do anything right here, right now.” She takes in another drag and lets it out with a long sigh.

I stare at her in amazement as I take in the words she has spoken and I am speechless. It’s as if she somehow reads my mind, but narrates my thoughts in such articulate, beautiful phrases that make everything much more interesting to listen to.

We sit in silence for a few moments until she breaks it.

“Harry?”

My gaze meets hers in response.

“I like those shoes.” She giggled.

“Do you want to know what I love most about our friendship?” About you, I think to myself. She nods. “I like how your face looks when we argue. It happens often, so I noticed that there is a slight kindness to it. The way you get flustered and your cheeks turned red are overpowered by the softness in your eyes.”

Again, the silence overcomes the space around us. It’s not awkward though, it’s never awkward with her.

“A lot of people say a lot of things about you, Harry Styles.”

“Oh yeah?” I know this already though, I am 100% aware of the reputation I have been accused of. With this knowledge, I am still in awe of how she sticks around me.

“Yeah, but you’re not half as bad as they say you are.” She states simply. 

I smile at her. She is a genuine soul, one that you don’t come across everyday, and I pray to God that she never changes. Even if our fates don’t align, she deserves someone who compliments her and appreciates her quirks. 

A few days pass, and I decide to surprise her at her flat. She had told me that she couldn’t make it to our place that night because she was under a lot of stress at university. I stopped by the bakery she loves and got her a coffee and a cupcake. I walk up to the door, 102. I knock a few times and wait for her to open the door. She opens the door in her pajamas, a t-shirt I had lent her a few weeks back and a pair of red flannel pajama pants. Her hair was messily braided and she had no makeup on. Even when she was in her pajamas I loved her style. God, I wanted to kiss her.  I’m stood in her doorway smiling like an idiot thinking about how her lips would feel on mine.

“Well, are you going to come in or not?”

We laugh, and I hug her as I step inside the small living room.

“I got you some things from the bakery you always talk about.” I said with a cheeky smile.

“Harry! You didn’t have to do that! Thank you so much.”  She said hugging me. 

That night we just talked. About her school work, what was happening in our lives, absolutely everything. She was actually doing most of the talking, but I didn’t mind. I loved to listen to the brilliant ideas that ran through her mind every day.

I am falling for this girl hard and fast.

We are at the commons again. She makes me want to spill all of my deepest, darkest secrets, my hopes and my fears for the future, my insecurities, her comfort feels like home to me. Before I know it, I find myself pouring my heart out to her. I have never talked to anyone like I did with her. She seemed to have complete interest in everything I was telling her, and I am convinced that she did.

I’ve never had feelings for someone as pure as her. She is too good for me and I know that with every fiber in my being that I don’t deserve her. Of all the shitty things I’ve done, she has stuck by me, and now as I finally release all of my feelings of guilt and despair, I feel a deeper connection with this brown-eyed girl than I have with anyone else. All of my stars have aligned. Though, I feel selfish as I wish that she would discover her feelings for me are mutual.

“Harry? Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“I think I’ve fallen for someone.”

Those few words shattered my heart right there. How could this have happened? She hadn’t mentioned anyone else before. 

“Oh, well, do you want to tell me about him?”

Her stature grew timid, “Um, sure.” She said in a shaky voice.

“He is by far one of the kindest boys I have ever met, and although he thinks very lowly of himself, he is the world to me. He doesn’t know it, but I notice everything about him. How his eyes crinkle a bit when he laughs and how he runs his ands through his hair when he is frustrated or upset. I love the way he know the right thing to say. He knows that I’m far from perfect but he treats me as if I am. I mean, I new it was inevitable from the beginning, me falling in love with him, that is. There is just something about that boy that brings out something in me that I’ve never felt before.” She grins to herself and stomps out her last cigarette butt.

She is glowing with love for this mystery boy and I suddenly become envious but my thoughts are overpowered by her smile and the way she is absolutely illuminated by the words she is speaking as she describes the boy whom I would die to trade places with. Simply thinking of the possibility gives me the chills but I cover it up quickly, acting as if I am cold, but in fact, it is completely the opposite. Just her presence gives me warmth. She feels like home.

I can’t tear my eyes away from her lips. I wonder what they would feel like on my, what they would taste like. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything, she continues talking on about him.

“Oh and before I forget, here’s your shirt. I finally washed it.” I take the shirt from her small hands, red and chapped. I quickly shove my shirt in my pocket because she begins to stand up. 

“I didn’t realize how late it was, but thank you for listening to me go on about nothing tonight” With that, she kissed me on the cheek and ran towards her flat. 

My shirt still smells like her, and as creepy as it sounds, I slept with it that night. I pretended as if she were with me, in my arms, the sound of her light snores amplified in my empty bedroom. Now, I’m just staring at the phone. There’s a war going on inside my mind. Do I call her? Do I leave her be? She’s found someone, someone I obviously cannot compete with.

(her)

I’m sitting in my room staring at my phone, and I haven’t left since that night. Was I not obvious enough? Should I have been more straight forward? So many thoughts are running through my mind right now. Why must I over think everything?

I am interrupted but the vibrations of my cell phone. A picture popped up on the screen of a picture I took of Harry at the common while he was smoking a cigarette. He was honestly so beautiful. Before I dazed off into my daydreams, I answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” I can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Um, what’s up?”

“Open you door?” It was supposed to be a statement, but came out as a question.

“Yeah!”

Sure enough, there he was, standing there in his petticoat and sweater, clad with skinny jeans and those damned brown boots. He gave me a cheeky smile as he let himself in. 

“So um, I came here to tell you something.”

“I would assume so.” I giggled lightly to ease his obvious discomfort.

“Yeah, em, so that guy you were talking about yesterday?” I nodded wide eyed. “I was just, um, wondering, why not me?” 

It took me a second to process what he had just said, and I started cracking up.”I was talking about you, you idiot!”

He stared at me, obviously confused. To clarify I decided that words would never be good enough so I leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips. He started stuttering as if he still didn’t understand.

“Harry,” I grabbed his face, “do I have to spell it out for you? I think I’m falling for you.”

“I’m the guy?” I nodded and smiled. “But how, I’m nowhere near as perfect as you described.”

“There is no such thing as a perfect human being, so you need to stop holding yourself to such high standards. To me you are the most accurate definition of perfection. I love your flaws as well as your quirks. I want to show you how perfect you are.” I grabbed his hand and led him up my staircase to my bedroom. 

Even though our movements were quick, it felt like a lifetime until we were both naked on top of each other. Every move he made, every touch felt as if he was scared to hurt me. I grab his hand and drag it down my body to where I wanted it. Harry looked me in the eyes looking at me, asking permission even though I practically granted it by putting his hands on my body. I simply needed in reassurance to calm his racing mind. I could feel his heart beating against my thigh. 

“Harry, I’m not a virgin, you can hurry up.” I chuckled, and with that his eyes grew dark, filled with lust. He grabbed my waist and flipped me on top of him. I gasped in shock, instantly feeling shy in this new position. 

“Have you ever thought about me when you were in your room,” He kissed my neck, “alone,” he dragged his lips and nose across my tingling skin and kissed the bottom of my neck, but this time I could feel his tongue a bit, “with all of the lights off?” He finished on the other side of my neck sucking and biting exactly on my soft spot. I moaned a quiet yes and his beautiful lips stopped attacking my neck.

“What was that, darling? Yes?” I nodded because it was the only response my body could manage to make.

 “Show me.”

“Excuse me?” I stared at him in disbelief.

“You heard me princess. Touch yourself for me. Show me how you do it when you think of me.” He had a vicious smirk on his face. 

I scooted back so my back was leaning against my headboard. I trailed my hands down my neck, my chest, my stomach, to where I wanted him. My fingers lightly danced around my naked hips, teasing him. I saw him shift positions confirming the already obvious fact that he was turned on. “Do I have to be the only one touching myself, Harry?” With that, he immediately pulled his pants and boxer briefs down and started stroking his half hard cock. I stared at it in disbelief as my fingers neared my entrance. I could feel that I was soaking wet and he has barely touched me. Just the thought of this, how dirty this is, turned me on more than all of my thoughts about him combined. I slowly started to finger myself, the pleasure of relief pouring out of my mouth in the form of delicate moans. Our paces matched, slow and steady.

"Harry, I need you."He did't say anything, just slowly moved towards me. He brought his lips to mine and softly grazed them against mine.

"You're beautiful."  He says between kisses.

The rest of the evening felt like a dream that neither of them were ready to wake up from. They had finally let themselves truly and deeply love one another in apartment 102.

[zerogate]

The late David Bowie was asked if his inspiration included dreams and he stated it happened frequently: "There's a thing that, just as you go to sleep, if you keep your elbows elevated you will never go below the dream stage.  I've used that quite a lot and it keeps me dreaming much longer than if I just relaxed. I keep a tape recorder by the bed, and if anything comes, I just say it into the tape recorder."

Arlo Guthrie, an American folk singer and songwriter, once said that music was like a stream going by. "Songwriting's kinda like catching fish - you just sit there and pull them out as they go by - though I think Bob Dylan's upstream from me somewhere." 

"The best songs that are written write themselves," said Michael Jackson. "You don't ask for them; they just drop into your lap... I don't force it. I let nature take its course. I don't sit at the piano and think, 'I'm going to write the greatest song of all time.'  It doesn't happen. It has to be given to you. I believe it's already up there before you are born, and then it drops right into your lap."

[...]

Some of the stories about dream music are so bizarre they just couldn't be made up. Consider the story of "Mystery Woman" written by U2's Bono. As Bono tells the story he is about to play a major concert in Wembley Stadium and was not able to sleep the night before. He stayed up most of the night watching the movie Blue Velvet on repeat and became aware of Roy Orbison's song "In Dreams" every time it came up in the movie. Orbison, himself, claimed that when he came up with the song "In Dreams" in 1962, he got the lyrics to the song in a dream. Eventually, Bono fell asleep and woke up with a song in his head. At first, he believed it was another Orbison song but then realized that it was new. He played the new Orbison-sounding song about a "mystery woman" to his band during the concert sound check. When they heard how it happened they told him he had "a bit of voodoo in him." When the concert was over, Bono sat down backstage to finish the song. Suddenly, his bodyguard knocks on the door and says Roy Orbison and his wife were at the concert and would like to meet him. No one knew Orbison would be attending! During the meeting, Orbison synchronistically said he would like to work with U2, and then asked, "you wouldn´t happen have a song for me?"  Bono then told him of the Orbison-like song that appeared in his head that morning. Orbison sang the song and it was released after his death. The album, Mystery Girl became a worldwide hit reaching #5 on the US Billboard 200, and #2 on the UK Albums Chart.

[...]

Noel Gallagher of the UK rock band Oasis sold the third best-selling record in the country. Gallagher stated he used lucid dreaming to create songs. "I write a song before I go to bed," Noel told Alternative Press in December 1995. "I won't have any lyrics, just a melody. If I can remember it first thing in the morning, then I know it's good. I've done it with 'Don't Look Back in Anger' and nearly every song on Definitely Maybe. When I woke up, I remembered the songs chord-for-chord - I knew the vowels and syllables I was gonna use."

[...]

The claims for dream music go back for centuries.  Mozart claimed to hear his best music when he slept but couldn't remember it when he woke up. The composer Revel stated that the most wonderful music came to him in his dreams. Anton Bruckner spoke of perhaps his most famous piece “Symphony No 7, 1st movement."  “This theme wasn't mine at all.  One day the (deceased) conductor Kitzler and old friend of mine from Linz appeared to me in a dream and dictated the thing to me. I wrote it down straight away. 'Pay attention,' added Kitzler, ‘this will bring you success.'"

[...]

Probably the most famous song that came in a dream was the song "Yesterday" by Paul McCartney. It has the most cover versions of any song ever written (2200) and, according to record label BMI, was performed over seven million times in the 20th century. McCartney described a song being his head when he woke up one morning.  There was a piano in the room and he quickly recorded the melody and lyrics.  McCartney stated:

I woke up with a lovely tune in my head. I thought, 'That's great, I wonder what that is?' There was an upright piano next to me, to the right of the bed by the window. I got out of bed, sat at the piano, found G, found F sharp minor 7th -- and that leads you through then to B to E minor, and finally back to E. It all leads forward logically. I liked the melody a lot, but because I'd dreamed it, I couldn't believe I'd written it.  I thought, 'No, I've never written anything like this before.' But I had the tune, which was the most magic thing! 

Once he had the song McCartney was still unsure so he checked around to see if he had just rewritten something he heard but had forgotten.   

For about a month I went around to people in the music business and asked them whether they had ever heard it before. Eventually, it became like handing something into the police.  I thought if no-one claimed it after a few weeks then I could have it.

[...]

Marcus Eoin from the band Boards of Canada wrote the song "Gyroscope" which came in a dream.  He stated, "Yeah for me it would be the track 'Gyroscope'. I dreamed the sound of it, and although I've recreated dreamt songs before, I managed to do that one so quickly that the end-result was 99% like my dream.  It spooks me to listen to it now."

[...]

Carole King was a prolific singer-songwriter with over 25 solo albums in 50 years. Her highlight album was the 1971 masterpiece Tapestry, which topped the charts for six weeks and remained on the charts for six years.  It outsold The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album and included the iconic 1972 Grammy song of the year "You've Got a Friend." Speaking of that song King said, "That song was as close to pure inspiration as I've ever experienced. The song wrote itself. It was written by something outside of myself through me. It happens from time to time in part. That song is one of the examples of that process where it was almost completely written by inspiration and very little if any perspiration."

[...]

On May 6, 1965, in Clearwater, Florida, while on their first U.S. tour, according to a St. Petersburg Times article, about 200 young fans got in an altercation with a line of police officers at the show, and The Stones made it through just four songs as chaos ensued. That night, Keith Richards woke up in his hotel room with the guitar riff and lyrics, "Can't get no satisfaction" in his head. He recorded it on a portable tape deck, went back to sleep, and brought it to the studio that week. The tape contained his guitar riff followed by the sounds of him snoring. Richards stated, "We receive our songs like inspiration, like at a séance. People say they write songs, but in a way, you are more the medium. I feel that all the songs are floating around, and it is just a matter of being like an antenna, of whatever you pick up. So many uncanny things have happened to us. A whole new song appears from nowhere in five minutes, the whole structure and you haven't worked at all."

[...]

Beethoven - "I must accustom myself to think out at once the whole, as soon as it shows itself, with all the voices, in my head." He used sketchbooks to write down his ideas when they flew into his head so as to not forget them. "Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy." "Music is the one incorporeal entrance into the higher world of knowledge which comprehends mankind, but which mankind cannot comprehend." "Music is the mediator between the life of the senses and the life of the spirit." "Tones sound, and roar and storm about me until I have set them down in notes."

-- Grant Cameron, Tuned-In: The Paranormal World of Music

[neverheardnothing]

rewatching joe iconis and family lincoln center performance at 4 am instead of packing or sleeping just to feel something and i have so FEW and so MANY thoughts and yall are gonna hear em all. no i will not put this under a cut. im going to be an absolute bastard about this.

i love the story joe tells about why he's singing mitb as the first song so much. like. the spite of it all. the defiance of it all. the pride of it all. the dig it or fuck off and disappear of it all. the joe iconis of it all. 

“i know exactly the song im going to sing as my first song at the american songbook series.” i love that he highlights the fact that this is the american songbook series.

then immediately jumping right into broadway here i come with molly hager, the other song he is most known for!!!

every time i think about this performance i think about how this was the first (?) time this song was performed by them since the closing of bmc.

and then lance rubin comes up to sing try again. which is the only time that i know of that anyone but joe has sung this song.

i remember a remark made during watching it live that having someone else sing the song made it seem so clearly more about joe and his career. but also having lance sing it immediately makes me think of bbh closing early which yeah is part of joe’s career but also lance’s.

and also the line “if you���re an actor and another actor gets the part you auditioned for” reminds me of how lance found the auditioning process of acting and the whole [not acting part] of an acting career to be terrible which is why he quit to then become an author and the juxtaposition of him singing try again is Something. but also he DID try again he is just applying his efforts to a different creative field and it’s working out great for him. good for lance rubin.

lol i haven’t even talked about the actual performance aspect of this song anyways it’s very different from the two versions ive seen of joe doing it. he plays it a lot more comical. i love it.

sidenote not specific about this performance, but i love love LOVE the line and the music at “use the stairs, walk to the street. see the people, feel the heat, and apply yourself again.”

and also the line “when they cast you out to sea, there’s a lifeboat manned by me called try and try again” will never not make me think of bsol/last on land and bonus lance was also in that show! it just keeps circling around.

everything about these past 3 songs performed at this venue in this set list order in this moment at joe’s career is honestly so wonderful. like you had a songs about an anxiety attack, a suicide/loss of self in success, and repeated failures before this song all sung by individuals. two of these songs were written at points where joe felt frustrated/sad with his career. one written in the aftermath of specific frustration about the first closing of be more chill. one an actual song from bmc. like what a SETLIST for your first three songs! fucking michael in the bathroom, broadway here i come, and try again. truly something.

THE WHISKEY SONG!! i love hearing joe sing so much. while i think we can all agree he’s not the most skilled singer there’s something special about hearing a composer perform their own work. he adds like 3 levels of charm to make up for lack of singing skills lol. just a very charismatic guy.

lance rubin back on tamborine for the next bit of the song and he’s like laughing through it. not completely sure what he’s laughing about honestly but this Is a comedic song (after 3 real downers of songs) and also joe was playing it up.

jared weiss down on the floor with his guitar playing along. that’s its own bullet point.

audience cheering as more family members start coming on stage! i love that the band is getting cheers. love that!!!

the camera isn’t on him but from the audio, nick blaemire is presumably running around giving high fives to people in the audience.

i can’t exactly tell with the camera angle and the lighting but i think that more family members get up from different seats in the audience or at least enter in the back and walk through the audience to get to the stage during this instrumental break. reminds me of how joe loves theater that physically touches you. giving you high fives in this case.

love liz lark brown. she plays it pretty like. frenetic and frazzled. love it.

amara, badia, danielle, will, and nick are just chillin sitting on the steps of the stage. 100% contributes to the vibe of this song. top fuckin notch.

SOMEONE screams AH during the drunk part of the song and i cannot figure out who but it gives me so much life.

jared pulling lance down to the floor with him.

jason going “man.... this place is a dump” like i LOVE the irreverence.

everyone actually getting back up and also converging On the stage during the (kind of) acapella break.

and now your whole gang is up on the stage at the fancy ass appel room singing your what sounds like a mostly upbeat fun song but is actually about self medication with alcohol and it’s a fucking jam. i love the 3 solo songs and then bringing in everyone for a big group number.

sidenote not about this specific performance: the lyrics “i’ll pour some more and then—AND THEN?—i’ll pass out and then—AND THEN!” the and thens were not on the things to ruin album and i wonder why not ALL the time. was it just deemed extraneous? or was this an innovation after the album was recorded?

i love that you can see the band singing along.

yesterdays / i can’t relate. i love this song i fucking love it. i love the synthy keyboard that was an active choice made. which means that joe is not the one accompanying jared in this song.

jared: i hate today. joe: *snorts in the background*

“i like music you can hold” -> old records black suits, susannah’s obsession with music which was of course in vinyl format back then

will once said hearing lgw was very exciting because he’s first and foremost a fan of joe’s so he was hearing a new joe song for the first time and the world got just a bit larger and i think about that quote a lot in relation to this song because i was like Oh i Get What He Means now because this is the first new joe song i heard since like getting into his work and i felt that world getting a bit bigger.

jared’s monotone chorus on top of the girls underneath is so good. it’s so fucking good i cannot.

liz lark brown velociraptor fuckin classic. specifically in this performance the weird ass electric guitar noise at “there’s a dinosaur” is SO good. i love it.

i know people say Trans Vibes from next song (jeff) but this song also gives me trans vibes. i think joe inadvertently writes stuff trans people relate to because of his propensity to write for People Who Are Different.

people cheering as will takes off his jacket hell yeah.

i am way more used to the jeremy morse version of this song and really consider it more his so it’s so fun to hear will sing it.

i love the canon of the “oh”s so much.

after will sings “i go to the window looking out and what do i see? myself just staring back at me.” and someone in the audience AUDIBLY goes “oh.” like what a MOMENT. way more subtle than when someone screamed “WHAT” at the “naked korean girl” reveal during the pipe night performance but on the same tier of Great Audience Reactions.

smooth fuckin gliss bro i love it. arms out by side. i love it.

Classic Jason Sweettooth Williams Singing Helen. but this time they added like some REAL like. oh god i have no idea how to describe it. electric crunchy electric guitar noises. and it’s so good.

i havent mentioned this yet but in the background of every song people who are not in it or are backup vocals are just sitting and jamming along and it’s so nice because me fuckin too.

honest to god just have to give a timestamp for this but bullet point for whatever the fuck eric is doing in the background here.

will and katrina circling each other singing directly into each other’s faces. so good.

the Unexpected dynamic change and following crescendo i am Living.

katrina rose dideriksen riffing up top. yes. YES.

joe starting to play helen sharp and then forgetting part of his introduction to the song is so good.

the inevitable laughter at any performance of this song at “it is not lost on me you’re all here at my show”

i know nothing about the movie death becomes her so i honestly always just think about joe when this song gets performed. also thinking about how in the youtube premiere of this song, joe was talking about how lauren was shouting out the names of all the musical theater composers joe is jealous of.

right place/wrong time. i read a bsol review a while ago about how katrina rose dideriksen was underutilized and gotta say i Agree holy Shit let her sing More.

i also remember how joe once said this song felt the most personal to him and that he cried when writing it

police siren piano.

the first time in this entire song they sing in sync is at the line “i wonder if his/her life is just like mine” and i just start screaming.

when eric and katrina turn to each other for the first time and start singing At each other!!!!!!!!!!!

honey! thinking about jen ash tep talking about how Each performance of this song gets Wilder and Wilder.

love it when nick just gets off the stage and starts singing to people in the audience. apparently one of the people was will’s mom lol.

ACAPELLA BREAK!!!!!! joe just fully gets up from piano and starts WILDLY clapping along!!!!

woman of a certain age! i remember when the live show happened the album had not come out yet and then when the yt premiere of it happened it Had been out for a week or so.

piano note elevator bell

the electric guitar is doing some fucking weird ass things in this song and i am living so fucking much for it.

the riffs badia does are so fucking incredible i immediately paused this video to go and watch her sing big fat ruby again just because i wanted more badia content.

the story behind old flame is so good and joe waiting until the last fuckin moment to give her the song is so fuckin funny.

i love love love these types of joe songs that are like 7 minute long story epics like right place/wrong time and the actress and ammonia and old flame.

“the best way to get past the past is to shoot it in the head” and then the audience cheers and i fucking love it. my commentary is getting shorter. it’s 6 am and i’m tired can you tell. i also just had a lot of thoughts about this early on and less thoughts about later on.

revolution song. the deep ass fucking electric bass is So good i Will go apeshit. like honestly that might be my favorite smaller detail of this song. like i imagine if i were in the room it might be loud and deep enough that i could feel it In my chest. like you can Feel the revolution coming.

i love the faster tempo revolution song has in the cabaret version.

i also love the cabaret specific lines of “evolution in the institution”

joey is a punk rocker was honestly not ever on the list of songs i thought would get performed here but im so glad that they did. like the obvious choice would have been veins for annie golden but they went this route. obsessed with this choice. obsessed with the fact that amphibian replaced this song as the act 2 opener. obsessed that annie is the one singing this.

i am never not screaming about wave and yall know this. just throwback to me losing it in the tags in a reblog of picture of the wave passage going on about how it really does mirror joe’s career and bmc specifically. and again this song being performed for the first (?) time since bmc closed makes the “so today on a hill in las vegas” and onward part SO fucking sad i literally just started crying. the entire song being in past tense up until that part. i will just go die now.

will in the yt premiere talking about texting the line “our energy would simply prevail” in the leadup to bmc coming back.

find the bastard. for some reason when this happened live i thought it was gonna be outlaw that was performed. 

i swear to god it is literally physically impossible for me not to AT LEAST mouth along to “what’s your name, what’s your name” during this song

NAMES ARE FOR ACCOUNTANTS.

MY NAME IS AWFUL LONG AS IT’S THE LYRICS OF THIS SONG.

the goodbye song. it’s never not sad. i love love love that this song is the final song every concert. i also love the recent lore of finding out that penny dreadfuls was the encore song at concerts before they became too long and it had to get cut.

finally gonna mention the background car lights. what a beautiful backdrop.

also since im always on my wrol bullshit i love how fucking clearly you can hear him at the end

accelerando accelerando accelerando. insert [joe iconis peaked when he wrote the accelerando in the goodbye song post of mine].

katrina singing an octave up is always SO fucking impressive i am so impressed by her voice she is so fucking good i love her so much

the bows are so fucking sweet i love them.

goodnight it’s 7 am.

[mhdiaries]

Diary of Nefera de Nile

Of course you want to read my diary...peasant.

30 July

So father arranged an appointment for me to meet with another agency today but regretfully I was unable to attend. I must have eaten something that did not agree with me last night for I felt faint this morning and I thought I detected the beginning of the shadow of a blemish. I immediately had the servants prepare an emergency spa treatment and I feared to move lest my complexion be upset by the change in humidity that would occur if I left the penthouse. The whole incident was very traumatic and was made more so by learning that some monster with far less beauty and talent was chosen by the agency for its new campaign. Father called and was royally cross with me even after I explained the dreadful details of my situation. He has threatened to come here himself and personally escort me to the next appointment if I do not, in his words, “Stop draining the royal coffers with nothing to show for it in return.” I may never recover from such a blow to my delicate psyche. The only remedy for this situation, of course, is to throw a party.

12 August

All is in readiness for tomorrow night’s festivities. Every agent and top model has received their invitation and RSVP’d. The city’s beast interior designer is putting the finishing touches on the decorations, the caterer an DJ are coming in the morning to set up and I have bought out the next floor down to prevent any potential problems with the neighbors. I, myself shall be the most opulent and regal host since...since ever. I am incomparable to any who have come before and so I will remain. I totally rock and rule. 

13 August

It should have been the night. I made a return on my father’s investment. Everything was supposed to be about me. ME! It all started out like it should have. The decorations, the food and music wove their spell over every thing and I was at the center of it all. I was shining like the sun and every monster there wanted to be in my orbit. Except, except for a motley group of monster models who were sitting on my couch huddled around some kind of book. I do not know why I invited them to the party and I hadn’t remembered them coming in but there they were now. I had met them when I first moved to the city. I suppose I noticed them at that time because they acted just like the group of losers my sister creeps around with at Monster High. They has all come to Milan on a wing and a scare and despite my offer for them to come live with me in the penthouse they insisted on sharing a place together that they could all afford. So next I decided to offer them the benefit of my wisdom and leadership. Only they didn’t want it. No, they wanted me to just come and “hang out” with them. Asp if. Now they were sitting on my couch looking through...MY FEARBOOK...and they were laughing...at me. It must have been at me. Who else could it have been? Then the whole room began to spin and it felt like everyone was pointing and laughing at me...I guess I must have feinted because when I woke up it was totally quiet and I could hear the sound of...of cleaning. I stumbled out of my bedroom and there were those same models helping the servants clean up after the party. Every other monster was gone. It was all ruined - all of it - because of them. I wanted to scream but that would have been so...common. Instead I quietly asked them to leave and told them that the servants would finish the job. They didn’t argue, they just left but before the door closed the last one out, a werewolf with too blond hair and split ends stopped and said, “I was captain of my Fear Squad too - we all thought it was funny that we had that in common.” Common? I have never been common.  

25 August

I’m still in Milan but everything is packed and I am ready to leave. I should have left yesterday but the servants that father sent to pack my penthouse were lazier than the ones he sent to unpack me when I moved into the place. It’s only 10 rooms for Ra’s sake and I was only here for a year. They actually tried to use the excuse that the elevator was out and carrying everything down 15 flights of stairs was slowing the process. One of them even had the audacity to lift his eyes from the floor while speaking to me. Such insolence! I would have punished him but father has forbidden me from disciplining the servants. One day though I shall be queen and I do not forget.

26 August

Before I left tonight I had my driver bring me around the horrid little mausoleum where that motley pack of models crammed themselves together like zombies until they could be “discovered”. I had something special I wanted to leave for them as a parting gift and though normally I would have considered this servant’s work I wanted to make sure, in this case, it was properly done. As I walked up the stairs I could hear them gossiping, in a most petty way, about some failed model they all knew. I thought their comments were quite revealing, especially since the likelihood that any of them would ever haunt the runway was laughable. I rapped on the door and waited...I heard some ghoul inside laugh and say, “Yes, but what she lacked in generosity she made up for in meanness.” “And don’t forget insecurity,” added another in zombie. They were still laughing when some Spanish gargoyle whose name I had forgotten but whose wretched complexion was completely familiar finally opened the door. The mausoleum went as silent as a tomb as they all sat gaping with open mouth stares. It never gets old seeing the effect I have on less than common monsters. Finally the gargoyle regained her senses long enough to acknowledge me. “Hello Nefera, we thought you left yesterday.” “Royalty is not bound by the restraints of schedule,” I replied. “I am leaving tonight but before I go I wanted to hand deliver these invitations. They are to the restaurant you all have said would be the first place you would like to dine after you got your first big break. It is most exclusive you know, and there is a table with your names on it reserved for you this very night. I have left a car at your service downstairs and the first course shall be placed on the table in two hours. This should give you all ample time to make yourselves presentable.” They attempted to thank me but their gratitude is as below my acknowledgement as my beauty is above their plainess. “All is arranged,” I said as I walked to my waiting car. Later on as father’s plane lifted off and the lights of Milan disappeared beneath the clouds, I thought about the dessert and laughter they must be enjoying and I wondered how in the world that pathetic bunch of losers would ever be able to afford the bill that was headed to their table.

31 August

After several stops and some shopping along the way we were finally flying home. There was no moon and the sky was clear. Father’s pilot announced that there was going to be a meteor shower tonight. Azula climbed out of her hiding place to perch on my hand and look out the window just in time to see the stars begin to fall. I was rather bored by the whole spectacle until I noticed a small group that seemed to be falling together at the same speed. That is until a much larger and faster meteor came out of nowhere and smashed through the small group sending them spiraling off into the darkness. Ah yes, I am on my way home little sister and you and your happy little life cannot even see me coming.