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justanotherlifeff · 3 years

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Warning: Slight angst

Yes, you officially hated Bakugou Katsuki, the man who gave you a promotion, only to make you deal with his nonsense even more. Yep, you did get paid more than before but honestly, no amount of money can amount to the level of pain this man puts you through. Yes, for once, you are not complaining about the piles of paperwork (which surprisingly is less than before). In fact, paperwork was the easiest part of the job. What drove you crazy was dealing with his PR team.

As his assistant, it was your job to make sure that he stayed out of trouble from the media and oh boy, this man was always a pinch close to having a scandal every single day. You wondered how the hell did he even manage to do that? You, in time, realized that this time bomb of a man lived in his own little world where he was the king of everything and everyone (much like his old hero name, king explosion murder, as you found out from an interview with Pro hero Shouto) and he aimed to do whatever he pleased. By whatever, you meant, yelling at random civilians, blasting off reporters if they asked him too much questions, and not to mention, the number of women who claims to have slept with him on social media. Well, he did sleep with them but that was not something good for a Pro Hero’s reputation.

Yep, this man did whatever the hell he wanted to and guess who had to face the consequences of his actions? You. Hell, this man just did not listen! You honestly felt bad about yelling at him about his actions since he decided to just hand the job over to you, when you were clearly not qualified enough. Which is why, you decided to take a different approach towards the entire situation.

You had noticed that there was a small group of people that Bakugou trusted (surprisingly) and while they were near Bakugou since high school, you decided that you needed to earn his respect to exactly that level. Which is why, you planned to ask the grumpy pro hero to have lunch with you every day. Of course, your home cooked meals were far better than the ones sold at the cafeteria. There was no way that he could refuse good food.

“You didn’t season the meat properly and the curry isn’t spicy enough”, he said. ‘Would I lose my job if I punch him right now?’ you wondered. “Well, why don’t you cook me something better then?” you asked instead, not being able to control the glare that came with it. “As if I’m gonna waste my time on something as stupid as that.” He scoffed, drinking his water. “I thought so.” You answered with a victorious smile. That means he surely can’t cook as good as you right? His opinion on your cooking totally didn’t matter in that case. “Hah? Are you fucking challenging me? I’ll show you how cooking is done!” he growled at you, making you chuckle at his outburst.

Yep, you were now gobbling down the food of the extra bento he brought from home. Seems like his cooking was as good as his critiquing. He was at the Gordon Ramsey level. “Now that’s what you call good food.” He commented cockily as he looked at you eating like you were starved for a month. “THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONLY THING I AM GOOD AT!” you exclaimed. “Well, I’m the best at everything!” he announced cockily. “Well, not dealing with people and the media apparently” you grinned at him. “As if those extras even matter.” Bakugou scoffed as he ate his own food.

“Well, why don’t you bring your own food? The cafeteria food sucks ass compared to, well, this gourmet level shit….” You mumbled, stuffing your face with rice. “Tch... Don’t talk with your mouth full, dumbass. And, it’s not like I have the time to cook my fucking lunch. My patrols start at 5 am remember?” Bakugou grumbled, before sticking his chopstick in his mouth. “You really do overwork yourself, Bakugou-san…” you sighed before an idea, or as you liked calling this last minute obviously stupid idea as ‘plan B’, struck your head. “Why don’t you teach me how to cook?” you asked him, looking clearly excited.

You were surprised that you were able to pull that obviously ridiculous plan off. “No!” he answered immediately back then, looking at you as if you just asked him to jump off a roof (though you do agree that asking him to teach you how to cook probably was very close to that). After making your infamous puppy eyes (which never worked but surprisingly did this time) and reminding him about that one time you got completely overworked due to him not noticing that his assistant was not working, he actually agreed to teach you, despite his complains about you being a ‘sneaky bastard’. Which is why, you were now waiting patiently for him to give you a video call, right after work, to teach you how to ‘at least know how to season food like a normal person’.

“YOU ARE PUTTING TOO MUCH PEPPER! YOUR FUCKING ASS IS GONNA BURN FROM HOW SPICY THIS IS GONNA BE!” He was yelling at you, making you want to punch through the phone. “OH, FUCK OFF! DON’T FUCKING ACT AS IF YOUR FOOD DOESN’T LOOK RED AS FUCK! OFCOURSE, YOU PUT A SHIT TONNE OF SPICE ON IT!” You yelled back. “THAT’S CHILLY POWDER YOU FUCKING DONKEY!” He yelled, to which you replied, “WELL, WHY DON’T YOU SHOW ME FIRST HAND HOW TO COOK INSTEAD OF YELLING THROUGH A FUCKING PHONE?”

When he cut the call, you expected to lose your job and never see him again. “Well, maybe it’s not gonna be that bad right?” you wondered. What you did not expect was for him to show up at your apartment within 10 minutes. “How the fuck did you know my address?” was the first thing out of your mouth. “Your resume, dimwit. The bigger question is, how the fuck do you live here?” he asks, looking around at your studio apartment, that was way too small for someone as big as him. “Well, I’m not as big as a fucking tower, am I?” you grumbled, letting him enter the place. “Heh, you’re right about me being as big as a tower, geddit?” Bakugou gave you a smug grin, making you blush furiously. “Oh, shut the fuck up! What the hell are you doing here in the first place?” you asked, trying to hide your blush.

You wondered how the hell this asshole made you blush every single minute as he taunted your shitty chopping board skills, while moving around in the tiny kitchen (which seemed even tinier now), barely having any personal space between the two of you. “I’m gonna show up after work tomorrow too. I can’t teach your clumsy ass in one day…” Bakugou sighed as he wiped his sweaty forehead. “Sure” you answered, glad that the rather handsome man was finally going to leave and you could think about your unexpected feelings more properly.

On the other hand, the angry blond, while he was terribly good at hiding his emotions, couldn’t help but feel a certain way towards his new assistant. It started with seeing you frantically trying to deal with his PR team, juggling his paperwork at the same time, and being so obviously done with his shit, and yet, being nice to him for God knows what reason. It all made him want to make you lose your shit, get angry and demand him to get in line. Hell, you’d probably look hot when you’re angry. The fact that he was completely right was proved when you yelled at him through your phone, since it was just a video call between two acquaintances, instead of him being your boss. He couldn’t help but show up at your house after that, only to have that weird feeling intensify as he saw you being clumsy as hell in that tiny ass apartment. Hell, he might end up buying you a bigger apartment at this rate.

The next day turned into a week and then, a month. Every day, Bakugou would say that he’s not done with teaching you and that he would come back the next day, only to teach you some random very difficult French cooking technique, hoping it was a French ‘something else’. You started spending more time with the grumpy hero at lunch break as you cooked him a decent lunch every day, only to have him grumble about how ‘it could be better’ and yet find no excuse on how it isn’t already perfect. You never argued about it either as it would result in one more day of cooking lessons.

You hated Bakugou Katsuki as he still lived as if he owned this world. You hated that his crazy fangirls would throw themselves at him and he would relish in that. You hated that you had to deal with his PR team thanks to his fuckboy ways, when you clearly hated seeing him with those snobby fangirls. You hated Bakugou Katsuki because you love him, because everybody loves him.

Taglist: @bonbonthedragon @the2ndl

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou × reader

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whentherewerebicycles · 3 years

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some thoughts that might seem unrelated but aren’t, i promise:

— in that atomic habits book I read a couple weeks back the author talks about using a specific, action-oriented question repeated throughout the day to help you build or break habits (like “what would a physically fit person do?” or “what would a sober person do?”).

— the aging books i was reading last month noted that people who score high in conscientiousness (on the Big Five personality traits) tend to age most successfully ie enjoy the longest stretch of active years. to quote this article, conscientiousness is “a fundamental personality trait—one of the Big Five—that reflects the tendency to be responsible, organized, hard-working, goal-directed, and to adhere to norms and rules...Conscientiousness comprises self-control, industriousness, responsibility, and reliability. A conscientious person is good at self-regulation and impulse control. This trait influences whether you will set and keep long-range goals, deliberate over choices, behave cautiously or impulsively, and take obligations to others seriously.” I tend to score very high in openness but very, very low in conscientiousness. more on this in a bit...

— my sister and i were talking recently about different kinds of intelligence, and also about core values. one of hers is efficiency, a word that i have all kinds of negative associations with lol but that she explained in ways i found really intriguing. for her efficiency isn’t about, like, Maximizing Productivity for Capitalism but is about methodically searching for the most effective, least confusing or redundant, most easily-communicable-to-others way to solve complex problems. when she encounters a system that has all kinds of weird bottlenecks or inefficient, time-consuming ways of completing a task (esp if the rationale for those methods is just “well.. that’s how we’ve always done it”), she starts immediately examining the larger structures and workflows around those bottlenecks to see if the established ways of doing things can be rerouted or simplified, and then she constructs new protocols or tools for people to use instead of the old inefficient way of working. efficiency will never be a core value of mine, in part because i think my humanities-oriented brain accords more value than her STEM/medicine-oriented brain does to wandering, daydreaming, slowed-down thinking, doubling-back or retracing one’s steps, and other “inefficient” modes of thinking that slow down the process but can lead you in unexpected directions or spark unanticipated epiphanies that illuminate the larger structures differently. i think we both share a keen interest in systems-level thinking and in examining whether established ways of doing things are the most effective ways of doing things, but we prioritize different modes of thinking and problem-solving in figuring out how to alter or redesign those larger systems (which is probably a result of temperament differences + our field-specific training).

THAT SAID, i have been thinking a lot about how one area of my own intelligence i would like to sharpen/hone in both my professional and personal life is like... a mode of intelligence that is linked to rigor, a more methodical approach to problem-solving, and the ability to construct & more methodically test detailed mental schemas. not quite sure how to articulate that but i feel like my thinking has gotten a little fuzzier than i want it to. and I think maybe this sensed fuzziness in thinking is linked to some of my ongoing feelings of restless discontent re: work. I also just in general want to be more conscientious in how I approach and solve problems, or in how I tackle big and small projects.

— this is more tangentially connected but: i feel like one thing i’ve noticed this year is that a lot of the people i admire professionally are really good at seeking out & taking on lots and lots of additional challenges or commitments, and they can do this in part because they tend to be very conscientious people, ie people who have big-picture vision but are also very detail-oriented and good at managing their time effectively & doing things efficiently so they can take on multiple projects without feeling overwhelmed. i feel like my own low-conscientiousness means that i can’t take full advantage of my high-openness—often i want to take on new projects or challenges but i worry that i’ll overextend myself or that the project will become more time-consuming than i anticipate. i think is linked to a different sort of fuzziness, ie a lack of clarity about how long things take or how much time i have — all combined with a deeply ingrained sense of myself as someone with executive dysfunction issues (poor time management, poor planning skills, poor organizational abilities, etc.). i think of myself as a very inefficient and extraordinarily disorganized person, whether this is 100% accurate or not, and that can sometimes lead to me taking myself out of the running for opportunities or limiting the number of projects i take on out of a fear that i won’t be disciplined enough to see them through.

— another thing my sister and i were talking about recently is how within large families, siblings tend to get assigned a “role” or a personality within the family dynamic very early on, and then they get sort of locked into that over time. everyone in the family expects them to always behave in that way, and there’s often a lot of unconscious resistance to letting your family members change or grow or develop in ways that contradict the clearly defined family role that’s been assigned to them, or the family “story” that everyone else in the family tells about them. you can get locked into both positive and negative roles—or like, often the positive role has a negative flipside. we were talking about how within our family, i’ve been “assigned” to be the “deep thinker” ie the introspective one who spends my life writing and thinking and daydreaming, whereas my sister has been assigned the role of being most like my father, ie very methodical, analytical, unemotional, and action-oriented (and therefore not introspective or inward-looking). and we were talking about how both of these have a negative flipside: my sister feels like she doesn’t get to be a “deep thinker,” or an introspective, emotionally intelligent person; whereas i feel like in my family’s story for me i am forever in “lalaland,” as my mom always says—head in the clouds, an ineffectual dreamer, the absentminded professor who has lots of big thoughts and feelings but is incapable of bringing any of my fantastical ideas to fruition because i have very little practical knowledge or stick-to-itiveness.

— as i’ve said many times before, i feel like i can’t solve the big-picture issues with my job right now, since so many of them are linked to shitty pandemic realities. but i was thinking that maybe one way to begin laying the groundwork for this final year in my job might be to work on strengthening my conscientiousness at the micro-level, ie in small everyday habits and interactions. my hope is that maybe by practicing conscientiousness in lots of small, low-stakes situations, i can start strengthening those muscles and building trust in myself as “the kind of person who does ____” (which i feel like is necessary for me to begin challenging the family story i’ve internalized what i am like). i mean, there is a lot of truth to that family story! but i bet that those aspects of my personality are nowhere near as inflexible or as like, divinely preordained as i have often assumed they are. like, i bet that through practice & through building better habits i can actually become significantly more conscientiousness (reliable, responsible, hardworking, efficient, good at follow-through, self-disciplined, etc) than i am now. and while efficiency may never be as central a value for me as it is for my sister, i think there is probably a way for me to see efficiency and conscientiousness as linked to my own core values, if only because those qualities or traits will allow me to better enact/embody my core values. so i think i can see it not as working against the grain of my personality, but as working to build out less-developed parts of my personality to strengthen the parts of my character that i value most.

— anyway this is all to say that for the last week i’ve been asking myself aloud “what would a conscientious person do?” multiple times a day, really any time i find myself at a small crossroads where i have to make a small decision. do i pick up that piece of cardboard and put it in the recycling bin now or leave it till later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i return that call from the plumber now or put it off until later? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i take two minutes to pay that $4 toll bill now or put it on the giant stack of “tasks i will definitely deal with when i’m in the mood to deal with them,” where it will inevitably become a $25 and then $50 bill because i forgot about it and now have to pay late fees? (what would a conscientious person do?) do i comment on that student’s draft now when i’d rather be on the couch scrolling through social media? (i could probably do it tomorrow, when i have another block of free time, but what would a conscientious person do?) i have no idea if it will work in the long term!! but it’s been an intriguing experiment so far, mostly because i think it is teaching me that many of the tasks i build up in my head as incredibly time-consuming are actually quite quick, and once you finish them you also free up all the mental energy you were putting into procrastinating on them, and are better able to move onto the next thing. i also feel like it is teaching me that uhh maybe a conscientious person is not like, a completely different species of human being, but just a person who has different habits or patterns of response to daily choices than i do. that feels important too: if we are what we repeatedly or habitually do, then changing what i habitually do can probably change the kind of person i am! i’m finding that there’s something very useful about the simplicity of the question, too. deliberately posing the question to myself interrupts my habitual, unconscious response (which is always some version of “i don’t have the energy to deal with that / don’t want to expend that energy right now -- i’ll put it off till later”) -- it requires me to stop and focus my attention on the present situation instead of sliding right past it without thinking about it. and there’s also something quite satisfying about framing it as a choice or a decision: i get to choose what to do, ie i get to exercise agency, and exercising agency makes your brain feel happy (we like to feel in control! we like making choices!). so throughout the day i get to experience lots of little bursts of whatever gets released in the brain when you make a decision and immediately follow through with it, and i think/hope that this kind of positive reinforcement is helping to strengthen those circuits and lay down the groundwork for new patterns of habitual response.

those are some thoughts this morning!! now i am going to allow myself a few minutes of sloth lol and then i’ll get up and exercise.

#mw #thinking aloud #long post

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pythosart · 5 years

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A BUNCH OF LOUS Some demonic force possessed me to try and make a guide to all 700 of my AU Lous. My brain is too busted to let me pay attention to my other ocs so I guess all 3% of my creative energy capacity goes toward iterating on this one. And guess what, I cherish them ALL Short bios/AU explanation under the cut (oops it’s long)

ORIGINAL FLAVOR BLADES LOU: Lou as initially designed, though some aspects of their backstory and personality changed as I got to know them through roleplay. Halfway through the story they took a kinda edgy turn and got deeper into cult stuff and afflicted with a worsening vampiric condition. Right before we ended the game for good, they had just died and come back as a full on, undead vampire.

Fae AU: The first AU, that kinda started it all. Stemmed from a cultist dream thing in Blades, where Lou was the prey in an Erlking-style nightly hunt. In the fae version, they’re a sylph changeling and the only child of a fading fae queen. Their arc in this deals with them struggling with their humanity and nearly succumbing to the soul-sucking influence of their mother, before ultimately restoring her “humanity” and saving themself THROUGH THE POWER OF LOVE Cult AU: Kinda started as a Blades offshoot, coulda shoulda woulda AU where we play with ideas we wish we could have tackled in the game. Quickly became its own thing, set actually on Earth in the Prohibition era (but low magic urban fantasy) Lou is French and was rescued from the middle of a WWI battlefield by Aphotis, a goddess whose own cult had just been massacred. She was as desperate for a believer to sustain her as toddler Lou was to not die. They escaped to America as refugees and Aphotis raised them as her own, and as her caretaker and dirty-work-doer in her quest to regain power. Along the way, Lou was (perhaps intentionally) introduced to an infectious piece of a primordial god, that gave them some shapeshifting abilities at the cost of rapidly draining the life from them and twisting them. Aphotis works to keep them alive, while keeping a memory-wiped copy of them (created by this parasitic god piece) around to do her bidding. This isn’t two instances of Lou, it’s one Lou with two bodies. Same person. My personal story borrows a lot from this AU as well as my character Esther’s old story Mary Sue AU: Initially a joke exercise to write intentionally terrible fanfic (as if Dom were writing about their friends in Blades) that of course became its own thing. Lou is obviously a vampire, with most of the traditional vampire rules and weaknesses. Their Tragic Past gimmick is that they were staked in the heart while still living, as bait for their vampire queen mother. It worked, she turned them postmortem, and as a result they are much weaker than a typical vampire. They also suffer a curse to stay within the bounds of their family’s ancestral castle, which has since become a prestigious university. They also become a fluffy black cat-bat thing either at will or when too weak to sustain a full sized body. Their line of vampires usually turns into cats, but Lou is a fuckup Pirates AU: Pretty straightforward. Lou is called June in this one, and is the mutinous first mate of Captain Inkblood (Cookie), who totally does it for attention. Their secret is that they became a pirate to dodge student loan debt. Stayhome AU: “Blades, but what if the formative incident for your character never happened” Lou never gets caught by the Governor’s program to round up street urchins and send them to work-school, and instead ends up working on a shrimp boat. They never develop the world-weariness and scheming nature of canon Lou, instead devoting their intellect to learning everything about shrimp, shrimping, and shrimp boats. Insert Forrest Gump scene. Eventually their crew gets captured and ransomed by pirates, but no one ever pays up for Lou, and they end up pretty happily living with the pirate crew Western AU: Gee I wonder why this big city doctor picked up and moved all the way out here to the frontier, it couldn’t possibly be because they’re running from the law. Narrator voice: They Were. Lou is a terribly unethical doctor with a reputation for experimenting on patients, and a taste for arson. After getting chased out of town and blacklisted all over the west, they find themself joining an outlaw band, as their doctor. Here, they start to learn compassion and humanity and not being a total bastard... ...until they somewhat accidentally burn a particular bounty hunter’s face off with a firebomb, and she carves them up in return. From here on, their arc is a test of their learned compassion and breaking a cycle of bloody revenge. Horror AU: Starts off as a classic summer slasher movie, with Lou as a college student with a bunch of shitty “friends” destroying a campground and partying until they draw the local monster’s ire. The monster (Dom) kills several of them, kidnaps Lou after Lou hides their fear behind sass and clearly isn’t like the destructive campers. Lou learns more about the monster and even starts to warm up to them, especially after discovering they can boss the monster around. Lou successfully escapes but runs right into a horror swamp where a nasty worm zombie pukes worms into their mouth and infests them. As the infestation progresses and nearly kills them a few times, Lou learns that the worms are intelligent and actually adore their host, and also that they can be bribed. By the end of their arc, Lou has mostly achieved symbiosis with their worms and avoided becoming a zombie,. They eventually must face off against the monsterified Queen of the Preps, Tiffany, who was similarly infested but never achieved that symbiosis. Minecraft AU, no really: Lou was a skilled tailor, and a total workaholic. Their ambition netted them a contract for a huge order of clothing for a duchess’s wedding on an extremely tight deadline, and Lou, knowing this could make them for the rest of their life, poured everything into it. They worked themself literally to death, dying of sleep deprivation. Distraught, this unfinished business drove them to make a devil deal of sorts to keep working, and they were granted this undeath, for a price. They slowly became more and more like a Phantom as they worked, never sleeping, and feeding on the dreams of those who do sleep. By the time they finished and emerged to present their achievement, they were monstrous and were chased out of town. From then on, they had lost their passion for their craft, and wandered the wilderness, sneaking into towns at night to feed on dreams, and fighting to retain their humanity as they become more and more phantom-like. Anyway I love this one so much I might make them their own non-minecraft character LotR AU: Lou is a hobbit, entrusted with the destruction of a certain magic ring. Unfortunately, they are much more corruptible than one Frodo, and early on abandon their fellowship, driven by paranoia the Ring has been growing within them. They run into a feral Mirkwood elf raised by giant spiders, and a giant orc raised by a Beorning farmer, and the three of them embark on a weird little Ring Quest of their own. TBC AU: Lou is a quiet, social outsider high schooler, with a bitter hatred for bullies and a knack for really disproportionately nasty “pranks” directed at said bullies. Too smart for their own good and with a taste for theft, Lou is a straight-A student who has been arrested for carjacking before. They end up as part of the Blackout Club after discovering their adoptive mother’s involvement with the Chorus, and out of sheer curiosity about the secret goings-on under the town. And in no small part for free run to break into houses and smear chili oil on the hands of sleepers who inconvenience them, because Lou is a bastard and has yet to learn empathy. Which, as usual, is kinda their arc here. Make friends for the first time in their life, learn empathy, get sucked into the orbit of a fairly nasty god/Voice, classic Lou stuff AND THAT’S ABOUT IT

#my art #lou #blades in the dark #why have many characters when you can have one

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coriesocks · 5 years

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The mystery of the missing knitwear

Here’s a little thing I wrote for @scorbusdefensesquad‘s scorbus drabble challenge.

Thank you to @littlerose13writes for the beta!

Prompt: Stolen Weasley Jumper

Author: Ruarcher (me!) Wordcount: ~3k Rated: Teen Content: Fluff, light angst, getting together Read on Ao3 HERE

Albus watched from a safe distance as Scorpius tossed every item of clothing out of his wardrobe and then methodically picked each thing up again, shaking it out, then fitting it carefully over a hanger before slotting it back in place. It was the second time he'd been through this process, so they both knew what he was looking for wasn't there, but Scorpius was nothing if not thorough.

"I can't find it, I can't find it!" Scorpius muttered, a frantic edge to his voice.

Albus sighed and pushed up from the bed. "Don't stress about it, Scorp. It's not a big deal," he said in what was hopefully a nice, reassuring tone.

Although clearly not reassuring enough.

"Not a big deal!?” Scorpius shrieked. “Albus! I need it! Whatever will she think of me if I turn up without it?"

"Honestly? She'll probably not even notice. I won't be wearing mine."

"Yes, but you're family--you get a free pass! And anyway, she sees you all the time. This is only my second time visiting and if I don't turn up wearing the gift she lovingly handmade especially for me, then she'll think I've rejected it! And thus, rejected her!"

"I really don't think--"

Scorpius turned to his chest of drawers, frantically emptying each one out onto his bed and then folding and putting items back one at a time. Albus swallowed thickly and looked away. He knew Scorpius wouldn't find what he was looking for no matter how hard he searched. And the reason he knew this was because the knitwear in question--Scorpius’ apparently beloved Weasley jumper--was currently stuffed in the bottom of his trunk.

He hadn't meant to keep hold of it; he'd just sort of … borrowed it over Easter because Scorp was going away with his dad and wouldn’t be around, and Albus had just wanted something Scorpius-y with him at home so he wouldn’t feel too lonely… But then James had found it under Albus’ pillow and threatened to tell everyone, and in the resultant struggle, one sleeve had ripped clean off. He’d planned to fix it and return it, but he hadn’t been able to master the darning charm he’d found in the dusty copy of Handy Homekeeping Spells for the House-Proud Witch his dad had, and he couldn’t ask anyone else for help without raising questions about why he’d smuggled Scorpius’ jumper home in the first place.

So, he’d returned to school with the ripped jumper, and every intention of learning the charm so he could fix it, but Scorpius was always around so he hadn’t yet got the chance. He honestly thought he’d have more time to return it. How was he supposed to know his gran would randomly invite Scorpius for dinner over half term. And anyway, it was practically Summer--who wore a thick, knitted jumper in the summer?

"Why don't you just tell her it's in the wash or something?" Albus offered after Scorpius threw himself down on the bed with a mournful wail.

"I can't do that! It would be dishonest! If she found out I lied, it would be worse than the snub of not wearing it at all. I've looked everywhere. There's only one other explanation-- it's been stolen!"

Oh, bloody fuck. Albus cringed. He knew that tone of voice. Nothing good ever happened when Scorpius used that tone of voice. But there was still a small chance he could distract Scorpius before things went too far. "It has to be somewhere…" he tried feebly.

"Where, though? I've looked everywhere! There's a thief amongst us, Albus. I'm sure of it. Jumpers don't just get up and relocate themselves. Well, unless they've been charmed, but that would be a whole other crime entirely, and if someone has been charming my clothes to wander off around the castle, then McGonagall will be receiving a strongly worded letter from my father!"

"Scorp, please. Gran really won’t care if you don’t wear it. Maybe someone accidentally tidied it away somewhere?” He shrugged and picked up an old quill from his desk, dragging it through his fingers and smoothing down the barbs that had separated. “It’ll turn up later, I’m sure.” If you ever give me five minutes alone to learn the right charm, he tacked on silently.

Scorpius huffed and plucked the quill from Albus’ hand, setting it neatly back down on the desk. "I’ve never once seen anyone in our dorm tidy away anything, and the House Elves have never once mixed up any of our laundry in the six years we’ve been here, so it’s obvious someone has swiped it, and I’ll not rest until it’s found.” He smacked his hand on the desk. “It’s a matter of pride, Albus! Come on,” he urged, grabbing Albus by the wrist, “our roommates will still be in the common room. We can ask them if they've stolen it."

Merlin’s saggy tits. “‘Cause that’s gonna go down so well,” Albus muttered under his breath.

He continued to protest as Scorpius manhandled him out of their room, but his heart wasn’t fully in it. He was torn (much like the ‘missing’ jumper lying scrunched up at the bottom of his trunk) because he wanted to stop Scorpius from humiliating himself and potentially souring the already strained relationship they had with their roommates, but at the same time, he couldn’t put up too much of a fight without looking guilty.

The common room appeared to fall silent as they walked over to where their roommates were sat. Albus felt like everyone’s eyes were on them; the assumed scrutiny like a swarm of spiders crawling up and down his spine. Jacob, Malcolm, and Rafe stopped their conversation and watched them expectantly but Albus couldn’t meet their gaze; instead, he stared at the corner of the small, ornate side table and prayed for a swift end to his suffering.

Guilt churned in his gut. He wished he could think of a way out that didn’t end in embarrassment or… or death, because surely he would die if Scorpius found out he fell asleep hugging his jumper. But even if he did manage to fix the jumper, it was too late to slip it into Scorpius' possessions now. He'd missed his chance. He supposed he could stuff it under one of their roommates' beds, maybe Malcolm's since he's a bit of a dick, but framing someone else for theft and destruction of property was probably a shitty thing to do.

He squirmed as Scorpius explained the jumper situation and then quizzed their roommates about its whereabouts, their whereabouts, their movements since Christmas… and a multitude of other things that were important for reasons only Scorpius knew. He didn’t call them thieves outright, but it was clearly implied by his tone and careful phrasing. To Albus’ great relief, though, they suffered the interrogation without complaint and then returned to the conversation they’d been in the midst of before being interrupted.

Clearly, six years of sharing a room with him and Scorpius had made them immune to some of their… eccentricities.

“Do you know, I don’t think they were taking me seriously,” Scorpius mused, tapping a finger against his lip.

Albus rolled his eyes. "So, you’re done now, yeah?” He took a couple of steps towards the entrance to the boys’ dorms but faltered when Scorpius didn’t follow. “Scorp? We've got a stack of manga to read and you said you wanted to practice that translation charm.”

"Just a minute Al, I need to get to the bottom of this. If our roommates had nothing to do with it, then maybe it was someone else in our house."

"You're not really going to ask everyone in Slytherin if they've seen your jumper, are you?" Would this nightmare ever be over? Why did Scorpius have to obsess over everything?

"Not individually, no."

"What does-- Oh, bloody hell." Albus paled as Scorpius climbed on top of one of the tables at the edge of the common room. A couple of younger students who'd been trying to work tutted and hastily moved their parchment and ink pots out of harm’s way. “Scorpius!” he hissed through gritted teeth, stepping up to the table and tugging on Scorpius’ robe to get his attention. “Get down! People are staring.”

“Let them stare, Albus,” Scorpius said. “Let them stare!” He managed to project his voice enough that the few people who weren’t yet staring at the weird kid on the table, now turned their heads to see what the fuss was about.

Albus thought his face would melt clean off his skull with how hot it felt. He’d be known as Albus the Faceless and his ghost would haunt the Slytherin dungeons forever more, a constant reminder to students of the ultimate price someone had paid for utter mortification.

“Fellow students,” Scorpius proclaimed, and if anyone had been unclear about his pure-blood heritage, there’d be no doubt now. The way he held himself spoke of years of elocution lessons; public speaking a fact of life and a skill to be honed, rather than something to be avoided at all costs. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to inform you that there has been a theft!” He paused, scanning the room, and Albus wanted nothing more than to drop to the floor and crawl back to his dorm, or into the corridor, or literally anywhere else. He’d willingly have opened one of the dungeon windows to escape into the lake at that point. Merlin. Why did Scorpius have to be so… so extra? Why couldn’t he just accept that he’d misplaced the jumper, and then move on with his life, allowing Albus the opportunity to fix it and sneak it back into his wardrobe once an appropriate amount of time had passed?

But…

But he couldn’t let Scorpius embarrass himself in front of their entire house. They’d not been the social pariahs they once were for a while now--not since before the…the debacle in fourth year, but they were still only just clinging to acceptance by the very tips of their fingers. He couldn’t let Scorpius make a laughing stock of himself when people were finally starting to respect him and see him as the brilliant, kind, funny, and amazing person he was.

He was the best person Albus knew--his favourite person in the entire world--he had to stop this.

“Scorpius!” he hissed, more urgently this time. “Scorpius!”

Scorpius crouched down but didn’t get off the table. “What?”

He swallowed. It was now or never. He was the only person who could save Scorpius from social suicide. “Just get down here,” he urged through clenched teeth. “I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No!”

“Well, just give me five minutes. I have to--”

“I took your jumper!” Albus shouted, slapping a hand over his mouth as soon as the words left his lips.

Scorpius slowly clambered off the table without taking his eyes from Albus. “...what?”

Albus looked around at the room. There were still a few curious eyes turned in their direction, but most people had seemingly already lost interest in Scorpius’ little scene. Albus knew they’d be paying full attention the second anything gossip-worthy happened though, and he didn't intend to give them anything extra to look at.

“Can we go upstairs? Please?” he urged, pitching his voice low to avoid unwanted eavesdroppers.

Scorpius looked at him consideringly for a few moments and Albus could tell he was weighing up the likelihood of getting a confession out of Albus once they were alone. They were both aware of how much he liked to deflect and avoid when conversations were tricky. Eventually, though, he huffed out a breath through his nose and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said, and wrapped his slender fingers around Albus’ wrist, dragging him down the corridor to their room.

* * *

Scorpius didn't even give Albus the chance to close the door before rounding on him. “Why did you take it?”

Albus ducked his head to avoid Scorpius’ eyes. He didn’t want to see the horror, the disgust, reflected back at him when he admitted the truth. Would Scorpius ever talk to him again?

"Albus,” Scorpius prompted, his voice softer now. “Why won't you talk to me? What's going on? You watched me pull all my clothes from the wardrobe! You let me accuse our roommates of thievery!" His face blanched. "Albus.. I… I'm going to be a laughing stock!"

"I'm sorry, Scorp, really I am. I… I…” The words caught in his throat. Was there any good way to say ‘I stole your jumper so I could smell you while you were gone because you’re my whole world but I’m not ready to admit it yet’?

"Please, just tell me. Did I do something to upset you?"

"No! Gods, no." Albus took a breath, dragged a sweaty hand through his hair. There was no more putting it off. He could feel Scorpius' eyes boring into the top of his head but he couldn't lift his own to meet his gaze. He didn't want to see the moment Scorpius lost respect for him. “I took your jumper because I wanted something of yours to keep with me over Easter break.”

“Something of mine to keep? Why?”

“BecauseIlikeyouandIwantedsomethingthatsmelledlikeyou.”

“Because…” Scorpius’ eyes narrowed and flicked to the side while he deciphered Albus’ mumbled confession. But then his eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Albus sat down heavily on his bed and pressed his face into his palms. Any second now, Scorpius would stutter out an apology, an explanation as to why he thought they should no longer be friends, and Albus would do his best to hide his feelings as his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

But there was nothing. Nothing but the everpresent gurgle of water, the muffled conversations of other students in the common room, the soft scuff scuff of Scorpius’ slippers on the flagstones.

Then the bed dipped beside him and he looked around to see Scorpius sitting only centimetres away, studying him, a tremulous smile on his lips.

Albus’ heart leapt into his throat. It certainly didn’t look like a rejection was coming, but he’d been wrong about this sort of thing before...

“I like you too, Albus,” Scorpius said, reaching out and taking hold of one of Albus’ hands.

He choked back a gasp. “Really?”

“Really.”

Scorpius reached out haltingly with his other hand, eyes brimming with uncertainty as they skated over Albus’ face. No doubt he was waiting for a flinch or a cry of horror, but Albus was frozen in place. Scorpius cupped his cheek with a damp, trembling palm. It should feel gross, but Albus leant into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut. A soft breath danced across his lips, and that was all the warning he got before Scorpius’ lips met his with the gentlest of pressure, no more than a mere brushing of skin against skin, but enough to set off fireworks inside Albus. He chased the kiss, desperate for more, and groaned as Scorpius met him again with equal ferocity. There was no hesitation any more.

* * *

“You know, if you wanted to borrow one of my jumpers to cuddle at night, you only had to ask,” Scorpius said, briefly tightening the arm that was currently wrapped around Albus’ chest.

“Yeah, well, it seems obvious now,” Albus replied, rolling his eyes. He could feel a blush staining his cheeks a deep red again, although it was such a constant state recently, he wasn’t sure his face would ever return to its normal colour.

“So… where is it, anyway?” Scorpius asked. “I’d still like to wear it to your gran’s--especially if we’re going as… boyfriends?” he added hopefully. He raised his head slightly from Albus’ shoulder, looking coyly up at him though blond lashes while toying with the corner of the blanket.

“Ah. Well… please don’t get mad but…” Albus reluctantly untangled himself from Scorpius and slid off the bed. He was fully aware of Scorpius’ gaze tracking his every movement as he rummaged in his trunk until he uncovered the cause of his shame and then tossed it unceremoniously at Scorpius’ head.

“It’s…” Scorpius held up the two raggedy pieces of the jumper and looked between them and Albus in growing confusion. “Oh my gosh, what happened?”

Albus sighed and sat on the bed with his back to his boyfriend. “James found it under my pillow and was going to tell Dad and Lil and everyone, so I had to get it off him, you know? But when I tried to grab it from him, it kind of… pulled apart. I… I wanted to fix it before I returned it, but I can’t make the stupid darning charm work.”

“Oh.” Scorpius dropped the jumper into his lap and frowned. “Nevermind,” he said, his expression clearing and a broad smile spreading across his face. “I’ll just have to wear one of yours.”

“Yeah?” The word came out barely louder than a whisper. The idea alone of Scorpius in his clothes sent bright sparks of lust dancing down his spine.

“Yes, it’ll be rather fitting, don’t you think. It might save us from making any sappy announcements. Let people make their own assumptions.”

Albus snorted out a laugh and launched himself at Scorpius, pinning him to the bed. “You’re brilliant, you know that, right?” He closed the distance between them, claiming Scorpius' lips with an ardent kiss.

Lunch at his Gran’s was looking like it would be much more interesting than usual.

#scorbus #scorbus defense squad #ccsquad #scorpius malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #My writing #fanfiction #ruarcher #Scorpius and Albus #weasley jumpers #albus is a dramatic little bean...on the inside

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langwrites · 5 years

Text

Lang Plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses

So a while ago I said I was planning on playing the story routes in this order: Blue Lions, Black Eagles, Church of Seiros, and then Golden Deer.

The Golden Deer made a liar out of me.

So, here’s an approximation of What Happened During Verdant Wind.

So many spoilers below the cut, you guys. I do a lot of route comparisons.

Okay, I’ve been staring at the “which house do you want” selection screen for an embarrassing amount of time.

This shouldn’t be hard. I had a plan.

But no.

I clicked the Golden Deer, just like that. What the fuck, Claude. I blame you.

Immediately upon talking to this rop of students again, I can feel the difference in the social group from what the Lions were like. The latter were really a bunch of noble kids around their prince, and they felt really tight-knit. Classic Fire Emblem starter crew.

The Golden Deer is the fucking Scooby Gang.

First impressions of individuals:

Raphael, thank goodness, is the one character who absolutely has his shit in order. Sure, he’s bad at book work and thinks everything comes down to MUSCLES, but all of his emotional issues are handled by the time he arrives at Garreg Mach. He’s the brightest of sunshines.

Ignatz needs some more confidence in his art, and also I want to see his painting of Seiros. Now, if only both of his offensive stats and growths weren’t incredibly bad.

I was so close to making him my dancer. Just because he sure as hell wasn’t gonna be useful anywhere else.

Lorenz! I don’t like him. His haircut is a monstrosity.

Leonie! We are going. To be. Besties. Even though the timing of your support conversations are incredibly bad.

Marianne no please don’t be sad everyone loves you

Hilda is the greatest enabler I have ever seen. By which I mean she enables other people to do all her work for her.

Lysithea is going to have the last word with God. And especially he Death Knight.

And finally Claude! Teamwork makes the dream work, so obviously meme work does the same.

I’m sorry.

PRE-TIMESKIP

Mock battle! Marianne’s great and I love her and also the only healer oh god.

OKAY. I have access to New Game+ bonuses. What do I do first?

Immediately crank the Professor Level stat to max to avoid ever having to run short of activity points again.

Next, raise all skills I can’t easily get to at least Rank D+. HEAVY ARMOR IN PARTICULAR.

Third: Boost supports with people whose support ranks are an absolute pain in the ass to earn. Lookin’ at you, Rhea.

Also, put glasses on Byleth (named “Yuri” for this playthrough). Glasses are the bomb. I am the evil genius.

LEVEL GRINDING TIME.

It’s a lot harder with Blacksmith access being story-locked, but I can do this!

As a direct result, every single battle after this point is a complete curbstomp in my favor. Because the grind don’t stop.

I broke a lot more weapons than last time, though.

I will befriend Leonie and Ferdinand if it’s the last fucking thing I do. I will befriend everyone, and I will not get timeskip-locked out of supports! >:(

Ferdinand was my first recruit. Oh dear.

Okay, there are like five born cavaliers in this game. Leonie, Ferdinand, Lorenz, Sylvain, and I guess Dimitri if you’re on the right route.

Last time, Sylvain was a great paladin and a decent Dark Knight before he started getting one- or two-stat level ups for like thirty levels. Similarly, Dimitri was great until all his ultra-secret-awesome promotions didn’t use a fucking horse.

Contrast Leonie who, despite sitting out 99% of the game out of spite from me getting locked out of her support chain, went to endgame with a ten-level deficit and still rocked.

Ferdinand didn’t count since I failed to recruit him last time and he died. These two facts are directly related.

I didn’t use Lorenz at all; I recruited him to keep from having to kill him later.

This time, Lorenz straight-up sucks, Sylvain did the terrible level dance for like the entire game, and Dimitri’s not recruitable.

Contrast, again, Leonie. Her support chain with the player character is hot garbage, but she plowed through most of the game as a mainstay of my team and made it to Bow Knight first out of anyone.

Bernadetta and Ashe as Bow Knights don’t even come close to being as durable as she is, except for Ashe’s absolutely bananas Resistance. 29?! WHY?!

And Ferdinand is also awesome. His only real weak point is Resistance, but he doesn’t need it. He dodge-tanks everything, is faster than Leonie, and has two Saints’ relics he unknowingly stole from Seteth.

He still talks in MLA format, though.

I started putting off recruiting people so I wouldn’t have to level-grind them up to par with the rest of my team.

But if these people wanna join, of course I’m saying yes.

Lord Lonato’s rebellion and Miklan yoinking the Lance of Ruin feel way less relevant on a Golden Deer playthrough than on a Blue Lions one. None of the Herd really know who the hell these people are.

I say that despite having already recruited Sylvain for this playthrough and deploying him in the relevant level. He wasn’t treated as there by the game’s preamble cutscenes.

At least the Holy Mausoleum stuff feels more...handled? Claude actually asks questions about rebellion and about the “assassination plot,” where Dimitri didn’t really.

OKAY SO there’s this whole plot thing where Flayn goes missing for a month. With the Blue Lions, this is handled like a manhunt. Dimitri’s seriousness about the issue rubs off on everyone except Sylvain, and Felix actually correctly identifies the culprit almost instantly. He doesn’t know he’s done it, though, because basically everyone is just throwing out accusations. Manuela is the real MVP.

CONTRAST THE DEER. The very first meeting reads like a Scooby Doo episode, when they’re piling up clues and throwing out suggestions like the gang of goofball teenagers they are. Claude’s got this group running like Persona 4′s Investigation Team. None of them are jaded or frantic, they’re just doing this.

Why did Rhea entrust the investigation to a herd of teenagers.

Anyway, the rest proceeds as usual.

I don’t know why the game tries to drop the same set of hints for each route. “OoooowoooooOOOOoooo, your house leader might be the FLAME EMPEROR.”

The Flame Emperor wears heels. And is still too short to be either Claude or Dimitri. Especially Dimitri. Who the fuck let this kid get so tall.

The only real result of all this bullshit is that my wyvern-riding sniper of doom is not available during the first map where Yuri personally beat the Death Knight into the ground.

Which, by the by, was hilariously cathartic.

It doesn’t exactly matter, since the only unit who can make real use of the Dark Mage and Dark Bishop classes is unrecruitable, but bragging rights.

Remire Village’s drama is about as bad while playing as the Golden Deer. One of the foreshadowing cutscenes, though is excellent:

Claude actually finds a book that depicts The Immaculate One before its debut, only to have it confiscated by Seteth and learn that it wasn’t a library book at all; it belonged to “Tomas.” Like, all of his suspicions--which he shares with the player--start lining up. Censorship! Monsters! Sword of the Creator! What the hell is going on here??

Dimitri’s version of the cutscene involves him being caught investigating Lord Arundel by the player and Sothis. Which--since his route doesn’t meaningfully deal with the Morlocks faction aside from steamrolling them as incidental opponents--seems kinda useless.

Kicked the Death Knight into submission again out of spite.

Sylvain was useful! Mostly because I had him sit there and distract the incidentals while Claude and Lysithea cleaned house, but still!

Claude is the only lord character who seems to understand that the transforming Morlock faction probably needs to be taken more seriously. For the remainder of Part One, no one does so.

Rhea you’ve got some ‘splainin to do.

Marianne’s my team’s dancer this time. She’s a sweetheart. She seemed happy to be asked and to pursue the lessons, and being able to use Physic is a good trait in someone who’s nearly always going to be waaaaay behind the rest of the group.

Dad-stabbing happened.

Again.

Boop boop Solon’s dead.

Again.

Dear diary: I learned the definition of irony and set the Flame Emperor on fire.

I kid.

But Claude took her out in one completely overpowered shot, because crits are a thing, Flame Emperor class skills don’t reduce damage enough to survive it, and his Dex stat is through the fucking roof. And he was on a wyvern at the time because fuck it, why not.

Claude’s reaction to all of this is a minor letdown compared to the fully-rendered cutscene in the last route.

This would become something of a trend--taking out OP bosses with unexpected critical hits.

I didn’t expect to like Lorenz and now I do. How.

This is hilarious simply because he seems to be the only character that Mercedes hates. What the fuck, man.

Once again, Edelgard invades! Once again, I drop someone unexpected on her head!

Not really. It was Yuri.

Yuri does the timeskip shuffle and we’ll see everyone again after a nap.

FIVE YEARS LATER.

Aw, Claude was waiting for Yuri to show up. Adorable.

The post-meetup fight is actually harder than it was in the BL route, despite excessive level-grinding. This is due to three factors:

Claude is automatically on a wyvern, meaning that he has inherent class vulnerability to archers on a map with at least five of them. And less range than they did, for some fucking reason.

Lorenz and Ignatz started out on the same corner of the map and both of them are shitty offensive units who could barely kill a mage between them. (Neither of Ignatz’s offensive stats cracked 20 for another thirteen levels.)

I don’t have Ashe and his personal skill Locktouch, and nobody started with a Chest Key or Door Key, which meant I had to keep various enemies alive long enough to steal all of their stuff. And the enemy item drops came up one short of the number of chests on the map. I want my stuff, dammit.

LET’S MAKE A SCENE.

Randolph, as a boss in Verdant Wind, did not get any better at figuring out when he’s outmatched. Therefore, I killed him with Raphael again.

At least he straight-up died this time.

Claude didn’t even get to set the damn place on fire.

Ingrid is turning out to be way better of a unit this time than she was last time. She’s a little slower, but a lot stronger.

FELIX, WHERE THE FUCK WAS ALL THIS STRENGTH HIDING LAST TIME. YOU’RE TEN POINTS AHEAD OF THE GUY WHO HAS STORY-BASED SUPER STRENGTH.

AND SPEED.

Iiiiiiiiit’s JUDITH!

She only shows up on one map in the entire Azure Moon route, and that’s a damn shame. She’s so cool in Verdant Wind.

A lord-class character who isn’t also a Lord! WOO!

Also her spies are better than anybody’s apparently.

I am choosing to believe that because Ingrid’s family is related to Judith’s, her badassery in this route is the direct result of meeting her distant cousin and absorbing badass radiation.

There’s something funny about having to pull one over on Lorenz’s dad to get anything done. The Great Bridge falls not to power, but Claude baiting Count Gloucester’s entire army to be somewhere else. (FEAR THE DEER.)

As a result, Ladislava dies alone. (As opposed to taking Ferdinand with her due to plot shenanigans.)

Lysithea and Ferdinand’s paralogue was really quite sad, for all that the only named guy who died was deeply unsympathetic. Ferdinand’s dad was an asshole, but he wasn’t the asshole for this particular scenario, and now both of his parents are gone. :(

Felix...hasn’t heard from his dad in a while. Worrying.

Oh, and Caspar’s uncle is still dead, in case we were keeping track of that.

Dorothea’s happier with Ferdinand alive. She did an impression of the Gatekeeper. :3

Gronder Field! FUCK.

I delayed playing this chapter for two solid days because I already knew what was gonna happen. Specifically: Edelgard gets injured and evacuated, and Dimitri drops of exhaustion just in time to get run through like ten times by the Emperor’s rearguard.

I eventually got my shit together enough to do the thing.

Marianne, Raphael, and Ferdinand went after the Kingdom army first. Leonie and Felix hung back and then reinforced them after taking out the archer on the central hill.

Claude killed everyone in the center of the map, which meant Edelgard set the entire hill on fire and if Bernadetta had not been recruited she would’ve burned to death there on the spot.

Ahem.

I sent Yuri to clear the entire left side of the map by herself.

She succeeded.

Raphael KO’d Dimitri with a luck Gauntlet crit, got blasted down to half health by a Warlock, then plunked ineffectually at Dedue until Marianne used her Levin Sword to sort him out.

Ferdinand killed everyone else on that side of the map.

Claude once again got the kill on Edelgard with a lucky crit, after Yuri had killed everyone else (up to and including the Demonic Beasts) single-handedly.

And then the plot moved on. Hilda’s account of Dimitri’s death was awful, Dedue’s reaction was worse, and off we go to punch Edelgard’s teeth in.

Again.

Annette’s dad is probably dead now.

Felix’s, too.

(I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THE DAD-STABBING.)

FOOOOOORT MERCEUS.

No matter how many times I think about it, Claude’s Almyran army reinforcements only make so much sense. How the hell and fuck did he manage to sneak an entire foreign army across a whole country to help with one battle?

But hey, they’re here, and Claude almost admitted the reason why he could do that. And the arrow greeting between him and Nader was cool.

(Spoiler: On top of being the Alliance’s leader, he’s also the crown prince of Almyra!)

The Death Knight had the gall to run from my army.

Yuri punched his ticket for the third time, which was not the charm.

And then Fort Merceus took an intercontinental ballistic missile and suddenly defeating the fort’s garrison feels a lot less triumphant.

Spot the miscolored eyes in this cutscene!

Welp. Fuck it, we’re off to Enbarr. Time to also punch Hubert this time! What a change of pace.

Eyyy, it’s the Enbarr map. I totally forgot to bring Seteth and Flayn along to check out the opera house, despite a whole bunch of characters talking about how they totally wanted to check that place out at some point. No room for deadweights in a map that has SO MANY ARCHERS.

Managed to get the special dialogue between Ferdinand and Hubert, and now I’m sad again.

Killed Hubert with Claude.

And because this is a two-part map, we immediately run off to chase down Edelgard. Due to the player army not doing a really weird 180 in the middle of the plot to kick Cornelia out of Fhirdiad, she didn’t have time to turn into a giant demonic thing! She just has WAY TOO MANY MAGES.

Strategy: Forget what Door Keys are, split the team by Avoid rating, and go to town.

Claude nearly died thanks to a critical mass of Gremories and Mortal Savants (and still, what the fuck is that name), but Dedue-as-guest-character didn’t, so I count that as a win! His defense was so high that the Giant Demonic Beast couldn’t even scratch him.

Claude, Petra, and Ingrid all having Alert Stance as a skill means dodge-tanking is hilariously easy.

Also, Ingrid was supposed to just take a chunk out of Edelgard’s HP bar for the final assault and ended up crit-killing her on the first attack. With a bog-standard silver lance.

Weird as the situation turned out, I guess that means one of Dimitri’s friends really did avenge him after saying they would. Even if Dedue was the only one who had a special cutscene about it.

We rescued Rhea! And the characters being happy about it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I want answers, same as Claude, and being forced to RP Yuri being oh so worried about Rhea’s safety felt incredibly disingenuous.

Claude actually yells at her over the “...” she seems to think is an explanation. THE TIME FOR SECRETS IS PAST.

WHY DID ALL THIS SHIT HAPPEN.

WE’VE BEEN AT WAR FOR FIVE YEARS.

A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE DIED HORRIBLY FOR BASICALLY NOTHING.

Incidentally, this is why I didn’t end up playing Edelgard’s route as planned. Her logic for kicking two other sovereign countries in the balls felt incredibly self-centered.

At least Catherine’s happy. Same with Alois and the rest of the Church crew.

They are soon going to be not as happy.

I’m filling out the ENTIRE support log before endgame. I have absolutely no idea what characters are going to end up together as a direct result.

The last conversation? Seteth and Manuela’s A+ support!

Because so many of the support conversations are romantic at A/A+ level, I guess we’ve managed to turn this ragtag army into a polyarmory.

Oh boy, Thales sure is a sore loser.

I say, as though I didn’t kill EVERYONE he knew over the course of an hour and also split his skull open under Seteth’s axe. His racism would have keeled his ass over before death set in.

That sure is a ICBM.

GOD DAMMIT RHEA, THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A Q&A SESSION AFTER THIS.

WHY DOES EVERYONE WHOSE JOB IS EXPOSITION UP AND DIE.

Meanwhile: THE UBER-DEAD PEOPLE.

Claude, your route is batshit. What is this genre anymore?!

I wanna point out that, despite seeing Rhea/Seiros do the dragon thing, the player character never told Claude what the fuck that was about. I feel like one of the first things I would have done after the class reunion would be going, “By the by, did anyone else notice the fucking dragon?!” WHO IS ALSO THE POPE???

Bah.

ANYWAY. Looooong-overdue exposition time!

I notice that Rhea didn’t out Seteth or Flayn, which was nice of her.

Claude, she can turn into a fucking dragon. I don’t think immortality is that far from being plausible.

GOD DAMMIT NEMESIS, CAN YOU FUCK OFF FOR TEN MORE MINUTES.

Uuuuuuugh fine, fuck everything, I’m putting your head on a pike.

CLAUDE, THE SWORD OF THE CREATOR LOOKS LIKE A SPINE.

OF COURSE IT’S MADE OF BONES. A BUNCH OF THE HEROES’ RELICS MOVE ON THEIR OWN!

The frantic music is not helping.

Time to kill a bandit king.

“My flabber is completely gasted by now.” Okay, that made me laugh.

Nemesis’s boss mechanic is pretty neat. To kill him at all, you need to kill all of the minibosses in the level and take down his friendship-based-plot-armor.

Or it would be, if I didn’t already make a habit of steamrolling everyone else on the field before tackling the boss at the end.

CUTSCENE.

Cutscene lesson: “Fuck honor duels.” It’s time for CHAIN SWORD LIMBO.

Claude, your bow shoots LASERS. SINCE WHEN.

Also getting kicked across the field by a dude twice his size didn’t seem to actually affect his mood much.

Awww, Yuri smiles now. Adorable. :D

AND THAT’S A WRAP.

Pairings: Yuri/Sothis (mostly to get them out of the way and see what everyone else would do), Claude/Petra, Raphael/Marianne, Catherine/Shamir, Lorenz/Mercedes, Ashe/Annette, Felix/Sylvain (bad end; the former straight up disappears), Seteth & Flayn wander off, Manuela/Dorothea, Lysithea/Linhardt (again), Leonie/Ignatz, Ferdinand/Bernadetta, Caspar/Hilda, and a couple of people are alone. Cyril gets to actually be a student after the story’s done, though!

Whew, that was fun. Gonna mix up the pairs a bit next time I play through the endgame and see what happens.

#fire emblem three houses #Lang plays Fire Emblem: Three Houses #Lang Plays #spoilers #long post #fire emblem

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just0nemorepage · 5 years

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Toil & Trouble: 15 Tales of Women & Witchcraft || Jessica Spotswood & Tess Sharpe || 405 pages ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Top 3 Genres: Short Stories / Fantasy / Young Adult

Synopsis: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

Glinda the Good Witch. Elphaba the Wicked Witch. Willow. Sabrina. Gemma Doyle. The Mayfair Witches. Ursula the Sea Witch. Morgan le Fey. The three weird sisters from Macbeth.

History tells us women accused of witchcraft were often outsiders: educated, independent, unmarried, unwilling to fall in line with traditional societal expectations.

Bold. Powerful. Rebellious.

A bruja’s traditional love spell has unexpected results. A witch’s healing hands begin to take life instead of giving it when she ignores her attraction to a fellow witch. In a terrifying future, women are captured by a cabal of men crying witchcraft and the one true witch among them must fight to free them all. In a desolate past, three orphaned sisters prophesize for a murderous king. Somewhere in the present, a teen girl just wants to kiss a boy without causing a hurricane.

From good witches to bad witches, to witches who are a bit of both, this is an anthology of diverse witchy tales from a collection of diverse, feminist authors. The collective strength of women working together—magically or mundanely--has long frightened society, to the point that women’s rights are challenged, legislated against, and denied all over the world. Toil & Trouble delves deep into the truly diverse mythology of witchcraft from many cultures and feminist points of view, to create modern and unique tales of witchery that have yet to be explored.

Finished: August 20th, 2019.

Progress: 2 / 15. 13.33% complete.

My Rating: ★★★★★. [5/5]

My Review: [Under the read more - NOT SPOILER FREE]

I've been working on reading this book for 8 months. 8. MONTHS. It didn't take me so long because it was bad – HELL no. The complete opposite. This is one of the best books I've read in my entire LIFE, and I wanted to make it last.

The intersectionality and diversity among women. The unapologetic strength and friendship and love and spirit and power and RAGE they each had in their own ways. Ooooh, my god. This SPEAKS to me.

I wish I had enough skill to put how this made me feel into words. I wish I was left with more coherency than reeling with emotions and my own strength of will. I wish I could say flat out what very important discovery about myself this book led to. But alas.. words have never been my strongest suite when I'm feeling highly emotional, and it's not about to start now. And that's okay.

Just know that this book is an instant, high-ranking, top-five lifelong favorite and I will continue to praise it as such for as long as I hold righteous anger in my soul.

As I do with short stories, I reviewed each individual one and provided comments for each one. Out of 15 stories, my average rating for this one is –4.82.– I hope you realize exactly how rare that is for a book of short stories, to rate nearly ALL of them a good and solid five stars.

With no further ado: I present my ratings.

Starsong ; Tehlor Kay Mejia - ★★★★★. 5/5. #SHRIEKING

If this story is a promise of what all the others in this book are going to be like, then SIGN ME THE FUCK UP, I am SO GLAD I picked this to read next. Who cares that it’s not around Halloween. Not only is the representation spot on, but the AESTHETIC. OH MAN. Oh man oh man oh man.

I LOVED THIS ONE. To BITS AND PIECES. And found myself heartily disappointed that this is in fact only a short story, and not a full length novel. Because I’d read the SHIT out of a full length novel that stems from this. It is SO cute and pure and full of new love and promise and hope and optimism and the shit I’ve been shaping my life around lately and just, oh my god. I am on a cloud. This story is pure sunshine on my cloud, gold lined and full of wonder, and I REALLY TRULY HOPE the rest of the stories in this book are going to be anything even close to this.

I mean, look at me. IT ROMANTICIZED MY REVIEW WRITING.

Real thoughts: I wish to hell and back that this girl was real, and her social media accounts were real. I’d follow her EVERYWHERE. Her attitude and confidence is the kind of inspirational glow-up shit I need in my life on a daily basis.

Afterbirth ; Andrea Cremer - ★★★★★. 5/5. I didn't love it as much as the first one, but it's still well deserving of 5 stars. A much more traditional setting in terms of witchcraft – 1650s New England – with a single traditional plot point – the midwife convicted of witchcraft is hung. The differences are in her relationship with her apprentice, someone who discovers her true magic and seeks to learn more and take the lessons upon herself, rather than think of it the way the rest of her village would. The spell book and the magic lives on in Deliverance and the new baby girl birthed at the beginning of the story, and the positivity, loyalty, love and acceptance in Deliverance and Miriam's relationship spoke worlds to me in the short pages it got to live on.

I am only unsure about the presence of the "monster" birthed right after the girl was. It didn't really seem to serve any purpose, and it was never fully explained what it was or how it came to be, or why it was there. It seems more like a plot point that was just entirely dropped, or only used to further Miriam's accusations for witchcraft.

OTHERWISE though. The strength, resolve, determination and resiliency in this story did things to me.

The Heart in Her Hands ; Tess Sharpe - ★★★★★. 5/5. Oh man, another one that did things to me.

I've NEVER seen this kind of shit in a story before, let alone in a full-length novel. AND I REALLY WANT TO NOW. Sign me the eff UP for a full length novel of this cause SHIT, I never knew how relieving it is to read about someone who truly says "fuck you" to fate, deals with the consequences, and then learns to accept them. Someone who truly goes "my family and community are toxic and unhealthy for me, regardless of the fact that "they're my family" or whatever, so I am going to leave and never come back."

And just.. the depiction of a kitchen witch, and a whole community of witches living together, and the second gay couple in the book (we're on two out of two for relationships here!), and the pure fury and spitfire in Bette's soul and spirit, and the complete and utter "yeah no" spitting in the face of the supposed soul mate Lady Fate had picked out for her… I can't tell you how REFRESHING it is that she said "yeah no" and STUCK with it, and nothing caused her to face it or regret it, since there's nothing to face or regret. She made a decision and he never cropped up again and just oh my god. I am HERE for this shit.

I wonder if her soul mate being a guy indicates that she's bisexual, or that Lady Fate only pairs people up heterosexually.

I don't know, I just LOVE THIS WHOLE THING. Young people going "fuck you" to the system and breaking out on their own when they don't fit inside it, the old magic of the mountain, writing your own destiny, Auggie coming for Bette, and honestly right here is where my train of thought was interrupted for 15 minutes so I forget what else I was going to say. BUT YOU GET THE IDEA.

So far I need full-length books of every one of these stories, and I'm only three into this collection.

Death in the Sawtooths ; Lindsay Smith - ★★★★☆. 4/5. This one loses a star just for the accents of the people, and how much it grated on my nerves. But there is a poetic nature to this one that I'm not entirely sure I can articulate that well. Just, the idea of a priestess of death who still tries so hard to do what is right, even when the dark urges of revenge tug at her own heart, even when she herself is treated like shit, even when she has every reason to react with anger.. I don't know, there's something beautiful about it. Just as much as the idea of Mattie actually relating to the kid who was responsible for stealing people's souls, and the idea of a childhood bully apologizing for their actions as an adult and meaning it.

Now, granted, I'm not one for mercy or forgiveness. I'd be more likely to become the boy than to become Mattie – though perhaps, I'd become someone else in between. I'd give in to my anger, but not in ways that would prove all the stereotypes against me right. I'd find some other way. But I can appreciate the idea of someone sticking it out and doing the right thing, even if it makes people hate you. And for the most part, as long as it doesn't give shitty people a pass for being shitty, I'm all for doing that exact kind of thing.

I'm not really sure what else to say about this one. This one's more food for thought, than something that I can easily translate into a readable review. It was fascinating, thought provoking, and very well done, but I'm glad to be moving on to the next one.

The Truth About Queenie ; Brandy Colbert - ★★★★★. 5/5. Not as strong as a five as the other fives, but STILL A FIVE. I actually finished this one yesterday and I've been basically just sitting here nodding in appreciation since.

Notable points – a family of black witches? YISSS.

How supportive all the family is of each other, despite being mostly ashamed of being witches? Yissss.

I LOVE how Blythe and Queenie support each other, EVEN THOUGH Queenie's totally head over heels in love with Webb. I'm not here for any of that girl hate bullshit. This was REFRESHING.

AND. How Webb admitted he doesn't have feelings for Queenie, and let her down honestly and cleanly, and kicked a love triangle in the face. How the friendship still stands strong. How he stays loyal to Blythe. How Queenie STILL heals Blythe – and actually does it!! – and accepts herself fully and stands proud on her own now that she's clear-headed after not trying to do things for Webb anymore.

Just.

YASSSS.

YOU GO GIRL.

I am SO HERE for this independent lady gloriousness.

The Moonapple Menagerie ; Shveta Thakrar - ★★★☆☆. 3/5. This one seemed of significantly worse quality than the others. There are still bits that really did it for me – the Indian mythology and culture! humanizing the churel (if reluctantly – I would have liked to see everyone be much more accepting of her from the start)! the idea of weaving spellcraft into performing arts in such a way that mundane humans don't notice! the much more fantastical use of magic! the normalized disabled character!! – but quite honestly, it was the main character and the completely unrealistic dialogue and character interaction throughout that turned me off of this one. I couldn't follow Shalini's plight at *all*, and even though I can relate to that level of writer's block, coming up with ANYTHING AT ALL truly is not as hard as she made it sound. And the fact that her story didn't have any conflict in it at *all* AND that the churel critiqued all the parts that she did write tells me that honestly Shalini may just be a terrible writer. So, I had a hard time empathizing with this one. I kind of wanted her to leave the coven, by the end.

The other parts that I still really loved are what kept this at a three. And honestly my favorite character is probably the churel. No joke. My favorite part was right at the end when she says she's going to deal with her "husband."

FUCK HIM UP, GURL. MAKE HIM PAY.

The Legend of Stone Mary ; Robin Talley - ★★★★☆. 4/5. This one loses a star, since it didn't really give me a chance to get to know or like much of any of the characters, it all happened a little too quickly to have much emotional depth, and I don't really agree with the idea of forced forgiveness.

Also, Wendy's grandmother seems like the HBIC in terms of local curses and I wish she was a more prominent part of the story.

But I *did* enjoy the normalized lesbianism, as well as the message of doing what you feel is right no matter what anyone around you may think.

Plus like… how friggen powerful do you have to be to stop a generations-long curse. That was pretty awesome.

The One Who Stayed ; Nova Ren Suma - ★★★★★. 5/5. TW: Rape, for this one. Though never explicitly described, or even directly named.

I'm going to have to keep my thoughts about this one short. But I absolutely adore the embracing of female anger and rage, the implications that these things happen to everyone all around you, that you have no idea who it could have happened to – or who could really be a witch, for that matter – and I absolutely 100% feel sisterhood with these women who so badly want revenge.

The power of feminine anger, man. Righteous and furious anger. I am so here for this shit. I would seek out this circle in a heartbeat, if only I could.

I only wish I knew how exactly they would make Jayson and his friends pay for it. But I know the possibilities, and I know they're taking it into their own hands, and that they aren't above death. That is satisfactory enough for me.

Divine are the Stars ; Zoraida Cordova - ★★★★☆. 4/5. This one gets four stars mostly because I feel like a lot of it went over my head.

Excellent symbolism and representation though. 👌👌👌

It was very short, and yet it still felt like it got across the feeling of death and renewal and finding oneself, and I heavily enjoyed how easily and simply they got rid of Enrique. Casual murder? Sure, why not! He had it coming anyway.

Personally, I, too, would like to turn into a tree when I die.

Honestly though it felt like it moved a little too fast, as soon as Marimar successfully found her way inside the house. I know the story was only some 12 pages long, but, still. It felt pretty rushed, and that's likely why it felt like a lot of it went over my head.

I still enjoyed it well enough, though. I still appreciated the Hispanic (Latinx?) family, the connection between Marimar and her cousin, the message of female power passed on from daughter to daughter. It just didn't necessarily resonate with me, personally, is all.

Daughters of Baba Yaga ; Brenna Yovanoff - ★★★★★. 5/5. Okay, THIS one is more like it. This is the kind of shit I came to this book for, and the kind of shit I live and breathe for. If I could give this beyond five stars, I ABSOLUTELY would.

I absolutely adore the friendship between two very different types of girls who both extract revenge in their own very different ways – one is sweet and threateningly kind and devastates you with the truth. The other… well. I think a curse of 50lbs of pig guts stuffed inside 15 different lockers says enough.

This kind of vengeance on those who deserve it is the kind of thing that gives my life purpose, and let me tell you, this bad bitch is MY KIND OF BITCH and I'd be BFFs with her if I could and I want a whole novel of nothing but her fucking wrecking people who have had it coming.

I aspire to be more like Stony. We need more women like her in this world.

P.S. The sweet poetic irony of a girl named Harmony sweetly doling out the worst kinds of truths on this story's shittiest people has not escaped me.

The Well Witch ; Kate Hart - ★★★★★. 5/5. Awww yeah. Nothing like sweet, sweet revenge to asshole men.

It's damn well implied that those two men are left for dead, and good riddance for it.

Also, I am in love with the fact that Elsa decided to go look for Zeb on her own, rather than continue waiting in the conditions the other two men had her trapped in.

AND that she took all the water with her and left them to watch their shelter and supplies burn into nothingness.

There's not much else to say about this one, really. The historical accuracy of it seems pretty spot on, Elsa is described as a WoC, and there was just the right amount of pace and development to be interesting. Also – Zeb is a good man. He gives me hope. One out of three actually being decent sounds about accurate for the ratio of good to shitty men lol.

But this one's a good one. I heavily enjoyed it, and GOD I am loving this book overall.

Beware of Girls with Crooked Mouths ; Jessica Spotswood - ★★★★★. 5/5. Wow. That was not the ending I expected at all.

It was all so dark and creepy and powerful and scary and holy shit I loved the feminine power in this story.

And open bisexuality in a historical fantasy!! That wasn't frowned upon, and nobody blinked an eye!!

Also. Can I say how much I ADORE that the sweet, gentle thing that is Georgie is the one who has the affinity towards fire, and is filled with utter RAGE? Holy w h a t. And Elle's open, unembarrassed sexuality? I am HERE for the unapologetic attitude ALL these girls have.

I really feel like I should say more about this, but I'm still just reeling, and at this point (it's July seriously wtf), I'm feeling kind of anxious to finally finish this book rofl.

Love Spell ; Anna-Marie McLemore - ★★★★★. 5/5. It's August now and I am DETERMINED TO FINISH THIS BOOK, goddamn. So I finished this one all in one sitting lol.

ADRIAN IS TRANSGENDER. Oh man that was the first thing that popped out at me.

And that someone can be Catholic AND a witch?? That's something I've seen surrounding the witchy community in real life, always in heavy debate, so it's quite nice to see it addressed in story form!

Plus like – the underlying tone of women supporting other women, and the disobedience of the typical Catholic fear, and religions accepting other religions, and I just – this one was a good one. It was a great one to come back to after a month of no reading.

And it's multi-cultural!! I will admit, I'm uneducated enough to not know if it's Mexican or Spanish culture – I –think- it's Mexican – but, STILL. So wonderfully done!!

The Gherin Girls ; Emery Lord - ★★★★★. 5/5. Goddamn. If I could give this one more than 5 stars, I would.

Sisterly support through an abusive relationship, and the VERY REAL feelings that come with trying to recover from it. In both the abuser's and the witness's points of view. Oh, man. I've never seen abuse and the trauma that follows captured so well before. I wasn't going to read this story in one sitting, but I had to – it nailed it so well, it reminded me of my own abused past and I couldn't set it down without knowing how it ended.

And the note of magic is so subtle and unique and wonderfully well done – and the sexuality of all three of the sisters are different! and they all have their own happy endings! and everyone is SO SUPPORTIVE of each other – god, no one was shitty. (Except for Wyatt, but, yanno.) This one speaks to me. On a very, very deep level. I just.. wow.

I felt the very same fire burning in myself as Rosie did when the story ends. I recognized it, and feel connected to her in a way I don't feel with most people I'm actually close to in real life.

This story sobered me. It reminded me of all I've been through, and just how rough the road to recovery was. But it also reminded me of how far I've come, and where I'm at now. What I've made for myself. What I've become, who I've curated myself into. And that.. no much can make me feel more strong or powerful than remembering that.

Why they Watch us Burn ; Elizabeth May - ★★★★★. 5/5. Well. Fuck.

THAT was a powerful ending to this whole anthology.

And left me feeling ALL KINDS OF PISSED OFF, let me tell you. Holy shit. The retribution at the end was implied and powerful, but I wanted it to be more explicit. I wanted to see those men SUFFER.

I don't even have words for this story, other than that it spoke to me on a deep, crushing, soul-igniting level. EVERYTHING about it – the unfair misogyny, the suffering, the sisterhood, the strength. The embracing of the very thing they were accused of. The pure love between the MC and her lover. The spirit, and the STRENGTH, I've already said it but oh my god, the strength. I feel as they did at the end. I feel powerful and unbreakable and full of rage and the need to make somebody pay, because I, too, have suffered at the hands of men and I would tear apart anybody who ever touches or treats ANY woman like that with my own bare hands.

The message of power this story gives for anyone who calls themselves female… I can't describe it. I don't know if it can be described.

But I would treat this story, and this whole book, as my bible, if I could.

#book reviews #toil and trouble #jessica spotswood #tess sharpe #★★★★★#short stories #fantasy #young adult #witches #paranormal #glbtqa #feminism #favorites #stunning covers #owned #print book #stand alone #jomp original

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undinefin · 5 years

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Tricked - BNHA/MHA

heLLOOO its been so long since i've posted ww. as you might've heard from this post, i've begun posting on ao3!! as a result, various details have changed for both the story and the writing. one of the main things being changed is the use of first names, not last names in descriptions. i hope you all can bear with me here ;;; thank you so much! Genre: fantasy Ships: kirishima x bakugou Word Count: 4251 Author: @undinefin

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Eijirou was able to fly now. Well, he could technically fly, but the movements were sloppy and his wing was still somewhat torn. As such, he continued to demand lessons to improve his literacy. Though after almost two months of living with the dragon, Katsuki had grown extremely, extremely, tired of reading the same four books.

“You said you’d teach me particles!” Eijirou demanded.

Katsuki hummed, “Fuck that, you’re gonna fly for me.”

The dragon rolled his large eye, the entire motion a play in itself. “Oh yeah, because that’s definitely not gonna attract tons of attention.”

“Hey you haven’t died yet.”

“Yet.”

Katsuki pouted, which Eijirou openly admitted was rather cute. Sighing, the dragon yielded. "Fine, fine. Get on my back," he mumbled.

Eijirou awkwardly waddled his hind legs in order to face away from the boy. The only way Katsuki could actually climb up onto the dragon was from the tail, unless Eijirou wanted the boy's nails digging into his scales.

The Katsuki's eyes lit up almost instantly. He scurried up the tail, placing himself between the shoulders, where the wings sprouted out from.

Eijirou stood fully on all four legs. Katsuki could already see above the canopy of the woods just from this height. “Hold on tight, and if you feel like you’re gonna fall just say something. Maybe we should have a safe word if you’re sca—"

“Just get going!” Katsuki yelled. Though, unlike usual, he sounded more excited than angry.

Eijirou chuckled and slowly raised his wings. With flourish, he lowered them, sending wind flying around them. He began to beat them faster, until his body was lifted above the ground.

Katsuki watched in amazement as he the world beneath him lowered. His hut looked so small from where they were, and they weren’t even that high above the ground.

“Don’t think I can get much higher unless we’re going above the clouds. But I think humans can’t like...properly breathe up there,” Eijirou said.

“Do you usually fly above the clouds?”

Eijirou began flying in a circle, bobbing up and down, though never too high. “Yeah, it’s how we stay out of sight from humans. Or, if you get high enough, you just look like some weird bird I guess.”

Katsuki squirmed in his seat. “What if I learned how to...hold my breath? Then we could go really high up!”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Eijirou pointed out. “If the clouds lower, then we can go higher. Aren’t a lot of humans that go up there.”

The boy grumbled, “I’m holdin’ ya to that one.” He let the rush of wind take him. Katsuki revelled in the sight beyond the trees that he knew. He marveled at the broad blue sky, the cloudless space that prevented the dragon from flying any higher up. He wondered how flying freely must feel, and he envied the dragon for that.

His stomach lurched forward without him as Eijirou came to a screeching halt. “We’re going down now,” he announced.

“Why? Does your wing hurt?” Katsuki asked. A tone of annoyance was heavily evident in his voice.

“No, but...”

“But?” he pushed impatiently.

“I think I heard someone. If there are travelers going through the forest I need to hide.”

Eijirou lowered himself, careful not to jostle Katsuki too much on the descent. The boy jumped off of the dragon, rolling on the landing to prevent broken or sprained bones.

“I’ll go on ahead, where did you think it came from?” He didn’t question Eijirou’s ears at this point. The dragon could quite easily hear Katsuki mumbled and insults from under his breath.

Eijirou pointed westward, where the sun was beginning to set. “I’m gonna go hide.”

Katsuki snorted, “Okay, good luck.”

“Hey!”

“Yeah yeah, matter of life-and-death. Look, I’ll deal with them if they get close, just don’t make a huge spectacle of yourself damn it,” Katsuki said.

Eijirou gestured to his whole body, as if to say something sarcastic in return. But audible voices stopped him from opening his mouth. The dragon hovered above the ground and turned to prevent noise, gliding into the woods as best he could.

The boy got low, camouflaging his sandy hair with the dirt. He moved silently through the forest floor, keeping his weight on the tips of his toes and regulating his breath. Katsuki trailed the voices, trying to understand their conversation and see if they were really going towards the glade.

“I’ve heard there’s an opening here. The nymphs say that someone lives up there. Maybe that person could house us for the night,” one mentioned. Katsuki peered over the hedge he was hiding behind to see the one who said it. It was a guy who was pretty plain looking. His eyes were thin, and his face was small. Beside him was another person, and they had a single mule carrying their belongings.

Katsuki sneered. There was no way he’d keep them in the glade.

“Didn’t you hear? He’s supposed to be some kid that’s really violent,” the other laughed.

“We’re kids too,” Soy Sauce Face mentioned. His features were boring, so Katsuki decided the nickname was fitting.

“Yeah but we’re not violent.”

Soy Sauce Face laughed. Katsuki considered his options. He could jump out now and try to talk them out of not going to the glade, but his social skills never seemed to be the best, much less his persuasiveness. Maybe he could be the violent one, just threaten them to leave.

Before he could even decide for himself, another person jumped out to divert Soy Sauce and his friend.

“Hey! You guys, uh, I’m lost. Got a map?”

Somehow the voice seemed familiar, but Katsuki ignored the detail and instead observed the newcomer. Either this person was way too trusting, or a genuine idiot. Who asked random people in the woods for directions?

He watched a rather sad interaction go down, with the strange newcomer evidently creeping out Soy Sauce Face and his friend. “Moron,” Katsuki mumbled.

The new guy – Katsuki called him Shitty Hair because he didn’t even know what to call the mess of bright red hair sticking up in all directions – seemed to turn, maybe even smile, at the comment.

“We’re trying to find shelter for the night. These woods are filled with beasts and well, we don’t want to expend our resources on them,” Soy Sauce explained.

Shitty Hair nodded, trying miserably to feign interest and compassion. His eyes weren’t focused on the travelers at all. “You guys are gonna beg some weirdo in the woods for shelter?”

Katsuki put a hand on his sword, ready to beat up this Shitty Hair who was insulting him. He stopped, covering his features with some mud and foliage. He must’ve looked like a fool but Katsuki would rather people not recognizing he face as he ambushed them.

“I mean, you came out of the woods and we’re talking to you,” Soy Sauce mentioned. Shitty Hair didn’t even seem to register the insult. Katsuki took that as a cue to run out, hollering at the top of his lungs.

He slashed some nearby bushes, and ripped through one of the bags on the mule. The animal took off, the other bags dropping to the ground slowly. Soy Sauce Face screamed, drawing a crossbow from his back. Katsuki cursed at not noticing the weapon; the leaves seemed to have their downfalls.

Katsuki let out another unintelligible sound, then rammed into Soy Sauce before he could get an arrow through the chest. He hit the crossbow with the hilt of his sword, splitting the arrow that was already loaded.

“Fuck this, let’s go!” Soy Sauce shouted. He grabbed his friend and reloaded the crossbow. The arrow was attached to a rope. He shot it into the distance, aiming towards the top of a tree. With a jump he skidded through the forest, most importantly, away from Katsuki’s glade.

Katsuki expected Shitty Hair to be running away too, or hiding. He turned, his sword at crown and ready to strike.

“Wow! That was...you look so weird,” Shitty Hair chuckled. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, and his huge grin revealed large, unnaturally sharp teeth. “But you were super manly!”

Irked by the audacity of the stranger, Katsuki raised his sword and swung. The metal smashed against a strong, solid surface. A scraping sound echoed, but quickly diffused in the trees. The sword had drawn no blood from the man, instead, it rested against hardened skin that flushed red from the contact.

“Who are you!?” Katsuki demanded. His voice was thunderous, but the sword trembling against the solid skin gave away more than he wanted.

Shitty Hair stood for a moment. He looked directly at Katsuki, as if staring into his soul.

“Well!? Tell me or I’ll chop off that damn hairstyle of yours.”

The stranger took a deep breath. His red eyes flashed gold, and he let the red patch where Katsuki’s sword pressed against grow. The hardened skin travelled up the man’s arm, where Katsuki noticed horns growing in the midst of his spiky hair.

“You—” Katsuki stared, slowly backing away. The red skin which turned to scales, the horns which were simply smaller, the eyes which reflected sunlight.

“Eijirou.” His pupils dilated at the realization, and a foreign knot formed in his throat, preventing anything else from spilling out.

Eijirou nodded, allowing his scales to fade, his horns to shrink, his eyes to return back to an unsettling red. He gave the boy time to process what he had seen.

Instead of talking immediately, Katsuki made his way back to the glade. Eijirou followed silently. He could notice a lot of different things about Katsuki from this level, like the way he put a bit of a strut into his walk, or how he carefully avoided obvious nests and burrows. The boy didn’t look back at Eijirou, keeping his eyes in front until they reached his hut.

Eijirou had never been inside the hut before, for obvious reasons. The inside looked significantly less frail the exterior, with items neatly in place. The only source of light was the fading sun as it dipped into the trees. Eijirou couldn’t resist placing a hand on the bed. The fur was extremely soft, he didn’t hesitate to push his entire face into it.

“Humans make up some pretty amazing things,” Eijirou said with glee. Katsuki did not respond. Instead, he sat down on a smoothened tree stump and studied Eijirou in his human form.

“So,” he started suddenly. “What’s with the shitty hairstyle, huh?”

Eijirou instinctively touched his hair. “I dunno! It’s just naturally like that?” he guessed. The hair seemed to certainly defy gravity. All the strands stuck up, as if he gelled them to death and back. It looked as though he had spikes on his head.

“Definitely not naturally like that,” Katsuki declared.

“Okay.” Eijirou didn’t argue.

The boy went silent again. He leaned forward in his stance, placing his arms on his knees. Eijirou felt as though some form of privacy was being invaded when Katsuki stared at him so intensely. At least when he was a dragon his face didn’t look dumb when he blushed.

“Why’re you so fucking excited?” Katsuki noticed the reaction.

“Well—um, I...” Eijirou racked his brain for the reason. When he couldn’t find it, he decided an excuse would do just fine. “It was the first time you called me by my name!” he exclaimed.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The dragon felt himself wanting to urge on Katsuki to just question him. It was awkward. Nothing he said helped the conversation at all. But he knew that his efforts probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.

After a considerable amount of time, Katsuki finally spoke. “I guess you’d wanna keep this shit a secret, y’know, dragons being almost extinct or whatever. And if people know you got a human form even if you try hiding I guess that wouldn’t work well. But were you never even planning on telling me you big coward? Huh? Damn it, I thought that...”

Eijirou waited for him to finish, but Katsuki never did.

“You thought...?”

“Answer my question fucker, were you gonna even tell me? If those other humans hadn’t shown up would you have just stayed as a dragon?”

Eijirou stared at the ground, for once not meeting Katsuki’s eye. He clasped his hands together for a moment, before breaking them apart and fumbling with the vest he was wearing, which he had conveniently found in the woods on a tree. The pants he wore were ones he’d stolen from Katsuki, but the boy hadn’t brought it up yet.

“I just...” he began. “Well, honestly I didn’t transform at first because I was worried about stunting the healing of my wing. I can’t heal as a dragon and be in human form unless I let out my wings.” To demonstrate, he took off the vest and hunched over. Wings slowly sprouted from his back. They were miniature versions of the wings his true form held, but perfect to lift his body mass.

Katsuki’s eyes widened at the sight, his jaw in pain from gaping. His hand had to manually close his mouth, and he kept it there as he watched Eijirou flap his wings. “How...” he mumbled.

“It’s magic! This human form was made after years of studying the makeup of humans, and familiarizing myself with transfiguration,” he replied.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Uh...yeah?”

“Did...I say anything else out loud?” He suddenly straightened his posture.

“Hm? No?”

Katsuki breathed, and motioned for Eijirou to continue. “Anyways, yeah. It’s a super complicated magic that I use to keep this form.”

“So it’s entirely magic?” Katsuki asked.

“Well, it’s a solid form and everything. It’s kind of like heavily rearranging my cells, and the excess mass gets transformed into magic which is kept within me. Even though I’m in this form, my capacity for magic is still the same,” Eijirou explained.

Katsuki let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Though not in dragon form, the boy was still staring at him with a glint of adoration in his eye. “Your magic is seriously amazing,” he whispered.

“Well I mean, it’s pretty tiring to keep up this form. I guess I also figured staying in dragon form with you was safe, I never really saw a reason to take on this form. And well...you seemed to really like me as a dragon.”

“Dragons are just cool. Like, really cool," Katsuki shrugged.

Eijirou stuck up his nose. “Thank you! We are very cool. There are some real manly dragons out there.”

An odd shine flashed across Katsuki’s eye. Soon after came a grin that looked maniacal if anything. “If I have to tear down the entire town, the entire Royal Guard, the entire world I’m gonna do it. I wanna be able to see dragons freely, like it was a long time ago.”

“You just want to ride me everywhere like a horse,” Eijirou deadpanned.

Katsuki hummed, “Yeah, so? You might be my steed, but it would be amazing, wouldn’t it? Magic would be everywhere. Most of all, you wouldn’t have to hide anymore! You wouldn't have to force yourself into a human body just to feel marginally safer. It's not fair to dragons, who, even with all their amazingness, are hunted and valued by humans for a different reason."

The dragon gave a weak laugh. “It would take a lot of work.”

“I’ll definitely do it.”

“Humans won’t budge that easily. They’ll always want what the dragons have,” Eijirou’s tone became solemn, and oddly serious. "But even so, thank you. I know that if any human could do it, it's you," he smiled, toothy and big.

“But...even though dragons are objectively the coolest creatures,” Katsuki continued. “I wouldn’t have minded knowing you could be human.”

“Why?” Eijirou found himself most manly and brave as a dragon. Humans were fascinating and built things taller than he with their warm, little hands. But him? He didn’t make a good human. He didn't have the daring, the desire, the determination needed to be a human.

Katsuki mumbled a few things under his breath. “...Teaching you would’ve been a lot easier you shit. Do you know how fucking annoying it was to draw out characters with a massive stick?”

“Very?”

Katsuki grunted in response. Eijirou assumed that was an affirmative answer. “And I mean, ya coulda’ came into town with me. You wanted to go didn’t you?”

Eijirou dropped his head, his lower lip protruding. “I wanted to see a town...” he mumbled. “I wanted to go to a bakery! And eat the yummy food you humans eat.” His mood brightened with the idea. “You said there was a nice old man with a bookstore, maybe I’d go to his store. I could learn to read better.”

Katsuki stood from the stool, fetching a small pouch from a chest. He jangled the bad and then looked inside. “Why don’t we go to town sometime this week?” he suggested.

“Really?” the dragon flapped his wings in excitement. The beating of them sent a gust of wind in Katsuki’s direction.

The boy grinned. “Sure. Gonna have to hide those.” He gestured to the wings and horns which Eijirou had made visible.

“Of course!”

***

“I don’t know where the pelts are kept! I can’t even tell the difference between a centaur’s and a deer’s!” Eijirou whined.

Katsuki groaned, slamming a hand down onto the counter beside him. The bag of nik fell onto the ground from the force, which only made him more annoyed. “I have to do everything here don’t I?” he mumbled.

��Sorry Bakugou! If you need me to cook something I could do that?” The man set the tips of his fingers on fire.

“Not in the house you fucking idiot!” Katsuki shouted. Eijirou apologized again and simply decided to sit down, which Katsuki preferred.

After a few days of hunting and learning to write, Katsuki decided they could go into town again. He claimed it was something to do with needing more money, and that taking Eijirou wasn’t the primary goal. The dragon flattered himself in thinking otherwise.

None of the chairs in Katsuki’s house were particularly comfortable. They were all different sizes, made out of various wood, and polished to various extents. As a result, Eijirou was constantly switching positions and worrying about getting splinters.

“Hey, you,” Katsuki called from the cellar. The boy put no effort into his voice, relying on Eijirou’s hearing instead. The underground storage room was connected to the hut through a small trapdoor in the floor.

“Yeah?”

Katsuki emerged from the cellar, carrying some fruit in a clay pot. “Why did you stop Soy Sauce Face? Did ya think I’m too weak to handle the situation myself? Too uncivilized?”

Eijirou was startled by the question. He was even more confused by Katsuki’s rather annoyed, and almost uncertain tone. There was a shakiness to it that the dragon would never expect from the unruly boy.

“I guess I just didn’t want you to solve it through violence,” Eijirou responded. “Those adventurers were out to discover something, but probably weren't expecting to be ambushed. What if you killed them! I don’t want you to kill anyone of your kind, ever.” He let his eyes glow with a certain fierceness. The tightness in his throat made him sound weak. But he knew that saying this wasn’t unmanly. Humans valued life, being as it was precious and short.

Katsuki didn’t face Eijirou. He simply stared in his directions, his eyes unfocused. “Killing anyone...huh,” his voice was an unsettling monotone.

Eijirou shivered at the sound. Katsuki’s eyes were always a bit terrifying, never truly peaceful, but instead of the usual bloodlust that he seemed to carry, there was an odd detachment. “You wouldn’t...to...to your own kind, would you?”

The dragon’s ears filled with voices of worry, of fear. Had he misjudged the boy? Were the eyes he took for passion actually hunger? The sounds overlapped in his head, making Eijirou lose focus on the oaky smell of the room, and the calming visual of shades of brown blending together.

“Oi, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki called, pulling Eijirou back. The voices drained.

Eijirou stood up, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. He was just a little taller than Katsuki in human form. “Did you...did you take someone away like that?” he asked with desperation.

Not meeting his eye, Katsuki whispered, “I hope not.”

Katsuki broke out of the grip. He turned to the pot, and began sorting the good berries from the poor ones. Eijirou didn’t push further, simply sitting back on his wooden chair. His concerns about splinters faded, and were replaced with other, more important, concerns.

Time seemed to fly by faster when Eijirou’s mind was working. Half of him was wondering what Katsuki could have meant by his answer, the other half was convincing himself that it was a joke, or it had a much, much different meaning.

Eventually, Katsuki handed him a backpack. Eijirou blinked, staring at the leather with momentary confusion. “Take it, you gotta carry your weight,” he ordered. Eijirou grabbed the pack with apathy, not saying anything to the boy as he stood.

Shuffling outside the hut, Katsuki walked in front of the dragon, letting him drag behind. Eijirou expected him to explode, yelling at the dragon to pick up the pace and stop sulking over things. After all, humans started wars by themselves, a single human could kill countless others and still not budge. They would grow desensitized to the blood with every life taken, until it seemed normal.

But instead, Katsuki lead the two of them through the woods, quietly. They were heading in the direction of the North Mountains. “This is called the Wyrm Forest,” he explained. “In the spring, all the baby wyrms are out, playing, hunting. Wyrms are supposed to be a cousin of you guys, so I always watched them when I was younger.”

Katsuki took a detour, leading away from the North Mountains, and instead going east. He made an odd sound, cupping his mouth with his right hand and growling through the hole. Eijirou thought it was a poor bird call, but the rumbling of the ground revealed otherwise.

“What—”

Katsuki grinned, “Watch, she’s coming.”

Eijirou felt it first. Whatever was coming was large, but moved fast. The rumbling grew faster, and suddenly the dragon understood just how small he was as a human. From a bush to the right emerged a creature, with a face similar to his in dragon form.

The wyrm was a forest green, enchanting and dark as the leaves it lived in. On its back were red spines that ran along the entire creature’s length. Katsuki approached her slowly. “Stay back, she doesn’t know you.”

Eijirou backed up, lowering himself to the ground to show he meant no harm. Slowly, the wyrm slithered forward, and nudged Katsuki. He began to pet her, taking a berry from his pack and feeding it to her.

“Does she have a name?” Eijirou asked cautiously. He slowly advanced on his knees.

Katsuki shook his head, “She responds better to gestures and smells. Her ears aren’t very efficient, as you might guess.” He pointed to the small opening on the side of her head, which was the wyrm’s ear.

Another rustle in the bushes caught Eijirou’s attention. He didn’t see the creature at first, but he could feel its vibrations. Whatever it was, it moved similarly to the wyrm, and it’s body type was essentially the same too, though the mass was much smaller.

Katsuki took another berry out of his bag, placing it on the ground and backing up. Within seconds the body moved from the bushes to out in the open. Indeed, the creature was simply a miniature version of the wyrm; a baby, Eijirou concluded.

“There she is,” Katsuki grinned. He took out another berry, but this time held it in his hand. The baby wyrm slithered up towards the boy, hesitantly sticking its tongue out. The baby wyrm stood, grabbing the fruit from Katsuki’s hand and then darting back into the bushes. This time, Eijirou could follow the blood red spine on the baby wyrm’s back

“Isn’t the kid cute?” he grinned. “She’s about a year old now. I’ve been taking care of these two for a bit, making sure they’re still alive n’ all.”

Eijirou watched the mother drool, saliva falling onto the ground due to the mother growling lowly, and giving throaty sounds of content. The solution was corrosive, eating through the plants and shrubbery where it fell.

“So, is this what you’re attracted to?” Katsuki jokingly gestured to the wyrm. The creature looked almost offended at the prospect of a seemingly human male finding her attractive.

Eijirou laughed, “No, my preference is a bit...different.”

“What, manly?” the boy rolled his eyes. He’d heard the word thousands of times since meeting Eijirou.

“Something like that.”

“Fuckin’ weirdo. Girls like being called cute,” Katsuki mumbled. He gave the wyrm another two pats and then gestured for Eijirou to follow him again. The dragon didn’t respond, instead, he laughed. He watched the mother wyrms and her child slither back into the woods.

Something told him they didn’t have a long time left.

sorry for the long wait! i actually wrote this as one suuuper long chapter, so the second half should be out at some point?? it'll probably be the same two characters here back to back!

a note: "Soy Sauce Face" in japanese is used to refer to someone who has a typical japanese facial structure, as sero seems to. i wasn't too sure what else to use for it, and i wanted the nicknames to mostly stay true to the og so.

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#my writing #fanfic #bnha #boku no hero academia #prey series #mha #my hero academia #bnha fantasy au #writing #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #dragon!kirishima #sero hanta #midoriya izuku #kiribaku #kirishima x bakugou

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phantomlionsjournal · 5 years

Text

Journal Entry 11/3/2018

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS JOURNAL MENTIONS SUBJECTS OF DEPRESSION, AND ANXIETY.

Holy shit it’s been a while people. I’ve been mostly active on twitter though, so please follow me there as well.

I’m going to be honest here, I’ve been having an on and off, yet crippling battle with depression for over a year now and recently it’s been really tough and it’s even been crushing me financially, however I believe I can overcome, and I can continue to overcome my depression provided I stay focused. I’ve begun drawing again, which is a good sign, and let me be the first to tell you if you’ve never had a problem with depression, are beginning to experience it for the first time and or know someone who is, indeed clinically depressed, this is no fucking joke, sickness of the mind is real. It may not be a gaping wound but it’s as real as the device you’re using to read this, the air you breathe and the ground you walked on to get here.

I’ve never been a HUGE fan of taking meds to treat depression, why? because over all I don’t make myself depressed, people fucking make me depressed, and if 98.9 percent of people fucking vanished tomorrow, guess what? My depression would be cured, not treated, but cured.

Granted there would be that awkward period where I would be figuring out what the hell is going on and if I should be running my ass to the nearest fallout shelter but upon discovery that only a few of humanity plus myself remain, a cascade of soothing relief would wash over me, and I would whisper at the new world “...finally”.

All that considered I feel like a guinea pig when doctors want to try all these fucking meds to “see what works”, and they don’t really know, all that training, and years of med school and the best these assholes can tell anybody is “see what works best for you”, and from then on it’s like rolling dice, no thanks, but hey if meds work for you then take them, just don’t flip your shit when the apocalypse comes and you eventually run out, forcing you to raid pharmacy after pharmacy, and with no one in the factories at that point to make the medication, you’re FUCKED(or they start cutting medicaid/medicare to the point that you’re fucked anyway), not me though because no matter how depressed I get sometimes, I’m a fighter, always have been, always will be, I will not give up the fight for my survival no matter HOW hard it gets, I may not go out with a bang, but I’ll go out fighting never the less, don’t believe me? Try me, I promise I won’t disappoint.

I have also come to accept and embrace that I may not be entirely sane, and I’m certainly a fucking maniac, but I’m a high functioning maniac, and I much prefer my methods of battling depression than what’s been manufactured by these second hand alchemists that make all these brain-wadding medications, and the overconfident doctors that prescribe them as I said before, my depression largely stems from having to put up with the world at large, and it’s equally depressing treadmill rat-race, so therefore the best treatment for me? Focus. Prepare. Prepare. Focus. Evade. Adapt. Survive.

Managing expectations is also another big one for me, it’s helped me quite a bit. This is a saying that I’ve been using for YEARS to train myself mentally as far as dealing with people and their bullshit is concerned “I can’t control anyone else, but I can control myself”,(before you make a comment Mr. Contrarian-Internet-Intellectual, hear me the fuck out here! You’re reading this in my voice aren’t you?)pretty basic yes, but it implies quite a bit, and if you’re dedicated enough then this is more than possible, in practice what this does for me as I’ve repeated it to myself over the years is prepare me for people’s irrational, erratic, and often overly illogical emotional behavior, remember what I said about managing expectations? that’s where this comes in for me as I constantly walk around expecting people to let me down, and be generally shitty and thus I’m never disappointed, you might have heard about “The Blessings of a Pessimist”, utilizing the attitude where everyone is generally shitty, when you actually encounter someone who’s not, and the interaction is worthwhile and even benefits all parties involved then you may find yourself pleasantly surprised, savor this feeling, for it won’t come along often.

Interaction with people if you’ve got depression, anxiety or both can be a huge pain in the ass so your first thought if encountered by some bigot or douche that can’t keep their big, loud fucking whore cunt mouth shut should be to ignore them, do not feed them what so ever, should be the first line of defense and hopefully the last.

Controlling how you react to people is fundamental to expectation management but mostly self-control, in short: Quick wit > Knee-jerk reaction. Fine line maybe but there is a difference, quick wit vs. knee-jerk reactions often straddle the line between tossing a passive aggressive quote you read on a social media image with a fancy nature background and all out cursing them out, try to channel those knee-jerk reactions in to quick wits by preparing one-liners in your head to respond to people with when they give you shit, and for you RPG fans out there, I know exactly what’s popping in to your head now and you’re probably predicting what my next lines of text will be before you’ve even read it.

That’s right you fucking nerd, prepare a menu screen in your head of your favorite one-liners and quips from whatever you can draw inspiration from, a favorite TV show, a movie or comic book, even a video game! Also try to avoid using curse words, and other foul language like racial epithets and so forth, even if you’re not cursing at them because some people are just easily triggered by the sound of bad words.

Then drum them in to your mind for whenever a sticky situation arrives, so if you absolutely can’t just resist the urge to respond because let’s face it sometimes when people feel ignored that might trigger them just as much, if not more than a response, so if you absolutely can’t help it, prepare that menu screen of responses in your head if you are unable to ignore them for some reason. Depending on your response will dictate how that person will perceive you, just remember, most random dickheads you’ll never see again in your life anyway but another key thing to remember is for the most part “the one that speaks first, loses”, so once someone tosses a random insult at you that might target your race, gender, etc. or judgemental passive aggressive bullshit, just remember, they’ve spoken first, so they’ve lost, but you can just as easily lose at this point as well, just as you might “win”, but try not to think of this in winning or losing terms really, just know that this is where you’re in the best position to pull a mental judo move and use their bullshit against them and to your advantage, as different responses will yield varying results, the following example happened to me recently..

...I’m walking down the street and I casually say “Hello”, because shocker, I actually conduct myself like a civilized fucking adult when out in public, and they respond “I don’t like you”, now before you call her a cunt in your mind, pay attention:

Me: Hello!

Cunt: I don’t like you.

Me: I don’t like me either!

______________________

My Sarcasm-Fu is impressive I know. Alternatively I could’ve responded with;

“That’s your problem”

“I like turtles”

“Shocking!”

“Oh well”

This noise

“You don’t say?”

I think you get the idea, basically, expect people to be shitty and miserable, respond accordingly, most likely they say these things to themselves in private and then say them to you, using you as a proxy to project their own insecurities, these types of people most of the time cannot fucking help themselves, so let’s swing things back around to the subject of depression...

Another good technique for battling depression: Hone. Your. Skills. I can’t stress this enough, if you’re good enough at something then you should be training yourself to be the best that you can at it, so much that you’re desired for it, and there’s no better feeling than people calling upon YOU for a particular skill or craft that you possess that they need access to.

Above all, perhaps the best way to beat depression: Keep yourself busy, and believe me you won’t have time to be depressed! Just know that, for the most part this is usually a temporary fix, eventually you’ll have to take a break and this is where the depression will bite you in the ass and drag you down and make you feel like you’re dragging twice your own weight around making it that much more difficult to function, it sucks ass, expect it to suck, but when you’ve got down time, this is where you’ve got to figure out how to combat depression when your down time arrives, in short; Don’t let your down time become down time! Yeah I know, depression puns, I’m an asshole, but seriously just remember you’re in control of your own life, you CAN take control of your depression, don’t let your depression control you. By medication or otherwise you can battle depression and you can win, no matter what you do just DO something! If you do nothing, then I guarantee you that you will become nothing.

Thank you for reading everyone.

Yours Truly,

PhantomLion

#depression #self deprecating humor #anxiety #mental health #mental disorder #positive mental attitude #warrior #phantomlion #phantomlion's journal #hone your skills #emotions #trigger warning

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violetsystems · 3 years

Text

#personal

Everything seemed to revolve around the mail yesterday. Technically it shouldn’t have been delivered at all. That’s what I expect when it comes to recognizing federal holidays. I think it’s a great step forward to acknowledge Juneteenth but there leaves a lot to be desired. With America there seems to always be a caveat or an asterisk. A pronounced, meaningful but wholly lackluster execution. Inside the mailbox was my coffee and a letter confirming the continuation of my health insurance with a footnote. That the plan has been subsidized for a number of months free of charge due to some legislation. A year later regardless I’m still somewhat in the same position. Or people act like I’ve emerged from some hyper sleep pod unscathed. I do get a lot of good rest here at home. It’s a small city and a small world so sometimes I end up running into people on my doorstep unannounced. I had a chance yesterday to vocalize that in public on my property without having to seek out a social tribunal in town. A friend I haven’t seen in awhile was fixing my neighbor’s bike in front of our other neighbor’s building. We talked about the job search. A friend of his works at one of the companies I applied for in town last October. A video game company. He wanted to know if he could put in the good word and have me try again. I told him the moment had passed but thanked him anyway. A lot for me has changed since last October and in some ways is still the same. I can’t not look back and see who was there and who wasn’t. So I stopped reading into it. Stopped judging my progress against other people. I had been paying near the sum of my rent per month for health insurance. So it was nice to get the letter giving me a break for a few months. If you really asked me right now, money is not the problem. I’m not supposed to really have a problem. This is something I’ve grown to learn in a very particular way. That somewhere in there is my true skill. Dealing with crisis on the fly with no warning. Always knowing the right and safe thing to say. I wouldn’t say I’ve been exactly forward on this hell site in regards to the specifics. I’ve gotten more political than has been worth my time. I realize that private blogging is a ‘vibe.’ I like the idea of Word press incorporating cryptography but I still think the best secrets are kept by a strong heart and quick tongue. I enjoy communicating and have always loved to write. Journaling is a very specific activity for me. It allows me to keep control of a narrative that often gets thrown around like a cow in a tornado. It’s like the cliff notes of my life. The director’s commentary of someone who has the opposite of main character syndrome. But these details are never specific enough to be incriminating I guess. Who wants to sift through three paragraphs of mine for the juicy details? What would you learn? That I’m as loyal as a beaten down dog. If I’ve learned one thing about being open and communicative, it’s that some people are only half there. Like you are talking to a brick wall with a smile spray painted across it. The message and intention doesn’t change. I never get that feeling when I write to myself and my friends here. Part of being consistent give or take a week or so with these kind of thing has rewarded me as being marked as present. People ingest what you have to say for the permanent record when they feel like it. Sometimes not at all. But they always find a way to let you know. Maybe in the smallest way to you. Things are always bigger than what you make them out to be. But to expect too much or react passionately towards things can cloud you in seeing the bigger picture. And yet I spend most of my waking days lately focusing on trying to figure it out.

If there’s one thing I can admit close to a year later it’s that it wasn’t the end of the world. I’ve been projecting to people through conversation in real life the context much like I write here. Probably more vague. People like to take words in conversations out of context. It becomes a game of he said, she said, they said. Having a space to vent or at least think has helped me understand I’m doing something to figure it all out in my own way. I feel often like I’m in an impossible situation. Lately I’m realizing I was just overloaded with change. I grew a lot in the last year. Mostly through a crisis where I felt completely invisible. I got through it and am probably better off. Financially it’s almost in my best interest to wait for the right position. If I took a job too early I’d lose my subsidy. To be honest I wish I had that subsidy last year when I really needed it. I updated my resume with my current working experience. I’ve spent the last year created a professional facing identity while still being myself under the hood and microscope. The results probably look shitty to most people. And that’s where I stop comparing my situation with other people. How I see my life unfolding might seem or sound crazy to other people. Which is why I’ve stopped writing so specifically about how I see or interpret things. I realize my life isn’t exactly normal at this point. But I’ve stayed alive and out of debt through this. I look like a very different person on paper than I did a year ago. And yet it’s still the same old me. I can feel the pain and isolation just the same. Imagine being a very cerebral person who cannot let go of anything. I’ve had to learn to. This is really the biggest growth for me. Being angry at a situation even if it’s wholly unfair doesn’t change things. The dirty tricks in this city never falter. I just have to learn how to have better tricks up my sleeve. And really if anything is to be said, my cold reaction to things gets better. Instead of feeling wronged or scared, I feel in control. I know better. I know when to shut my mouth about things. I know when to dangle the carrot out in the street. I know my situation is not ideal and yet I know what I want isn’t out of sight. So really how you survive makes you something desirable. A survivor. A person who continues. Resists. Maintains a semblance of freedom that people judge their own against. How is this guy able to be himself without me having a say? How dare you spend a whole year being ignored and not respond like a beaten dog when I shout out some invisible command to obey? My answer would be that I am me. And if you were me and could step in these shoes you’d figure it out. If you had the patience to read what I was trying to say you’d probably already know by now. And yet we still respond to these half assed attempts to engage and manipulate people’s true intentions. That’s life. Those confrontations don’t go away. Sometimes they’re right at your doorstep. What happens when they’re right in your face. Grilling you. Making you prove yourself and your narrative in broad daylight every step. You learn how to answer the questions. Sometimes by saying nothing at all. Sometimes by saying just enough. But you get nowhere trying to change the inevitable. That people only listen to what they want to. And social engineering is a minefield of good intentions. If you have to cross the minefield to get to safety by all means. If you are on the other side, maybe it’s best to sit and wait. Which is what I have done primarily alone. Wait for some sort of clarity. And for the most part when it comes to the people that really matter to me, everything is crystal.

It’s not like I don’t enjoy catching up with people. I enjoy being able to relate my side of story that feels buried and insignificant. But there’s so much more to it that doesn’t need to fall upon the wrong ears. People out there listen to what they want to listen to. They rehash things that sound plausible because they’re bored. They gossip. They’re looking for something else to focus on as they return to a desired normal. For me nothing will ever be normal again here. It’s normal enough when I shut the door and focus on my own mental health. I spend hours listening to music. I redecorate the space that I have. I spend time with my cats. I think about being in love. I learn to love myself. Of all the work I’ve done on myself I have things to show for it. And it seems the work is never done. Even if I can’t seem to find a good fit for where to go with my life. I know I can just stay here until I figure it out. There isn’t really any pressure for me here specifically. It’s a safe space to stay out of harm’s way. And admittedly, this city can be pushy and unrealistic to a point where it’s a hazard to your personal goals. Everybody has to know everything about everyone else. They think they can shoehorn themselves into your life after years of tricks and pranks. And ultimately yes it’s a free country. And there’s no shortage of people trying to get up in your business. But these people haven’t really been there the last year enough to know what really matters to me. I use these chances in public. Command performances to clarify my stance on things without saying much at all. If you really wanted the specifics you’d know where the narrative is. You’d know where I set the record straight. You’d know how I really feel. And generally a small percentage of people I write for do. The rest of this city. It’s not hard to see. There are always agendas that have their say in our lives. Some of them we tolerate. Some of them we avoid. Some of them we loathe. For me the more things change, the more they stay the same. And if you look at my life through the lens of people who only have access to the past, you’re missing all my potential for a different future. A lot of people were there. And then they weren’t. When they’re there to reconnect it’s always some elaborate yet serendipitous meeting. A magical sort of chance. I don’t believe in synchronicity. I don’t have the luxury to blindly trust the universe has some plan for me. We live in an ever pervasive data driven society. I know where I would like to be. I know what works and what doesn’t. I know being vague about this on the internet from week to week must annoy people all the same. I know I have not been happy for a long time but I make due. And I know the results if I go back out there and give the past a chance when it left me for dead is a losing proposition. So I don’t really stress much about it. I keep writing. I keep sharing. I keep taking control over my own life so when someone special walks into it, the baggage is clear. Maybe we can put some other baggage in there at some point. I have a whole back room that can be cleared for all the baggage you want to stow for the duration of my unconditional love for you. There’s a standing mirror and a garment rack in there too. I can’t say there won’t be more furniture in the coming months. I also can’t say I’m really in the mood to work until the Fall. But I can say I’ll still be here. And I love you just the same. <3 Tim

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transarterrified · 6 years

Text

top surgery

I wanted to write up my experience as a reference for others who are interested in getting top surgery or who want to learn more about it. I’m going to write it kind of like an advice/what I wish I had known or done before. There are a few sections: fundraising, before the surgery, the surgery, and early recovery.

Fundraising

As you may have seen, I did a fundraiser with help from several people, including rgr-pop and start-anywhere, who donated items and labor to the fundraiser. You can still donate if you want the mixes and/or a tarot reading from me, haha. Here is my advice about fundraising:

If possible, make your own website instead of using YouCaring or GoFundMe. If you do want to use a donation site, pick one that doesn’t take a cut of the money. I built a website with Wordpress and purchased a plan that took that ads off the page, which I did more because I needed to do that for my professional website when I go on the job market. I found that it gave me more room to talk about my budget, I was able to track the analytics more tightly, and I think it may have been more rhetorically effective. It might even make sense to use something like Squarespace with a store feature – I think Merritt Kopas did this for her fundraiser.

Offer tangible benefits, but pick ones that are easy to accomplish. For me this was important because I didn’t want people to just give money to me for a variety of reasons. I also was able to do a thing I do all the time anyway and share a skill I’m developing. It helps you reach people who don’t know you, and also encourages people to give more money. It took me a long time to pick two things I wanted to give. I had all kinds of ideas, like screenprinting a cool shirt (I still want to do this), and making a queer tarot zine (I also still want to do this). But at the very correct urging of beneaththeleaf, I narrowed it down to two things that take less time than those crafts. So, briefly, pick benefits that are easy to distribute, easy to make, and free/cheap to make. If you don’t have to ship things, you’ll be able to keep more money.

Let others help you. If your friends have a skill, ask them to contribute something your donors can give for more money. Let your friends help you with managing the contacts you have to make post-donation and with sharing and promoting the fundraiser. It will have more of an impact if you can get ten friends to share or reblog your fundraiser than if you share or reblog your own fundraiser ten times!

Don’t expect fundraising to cover the whole cost. And don’t compare yourself to other people raising money. I wouldn’t have been able to have the surgery without the money I raised. But I also wouldn’t have been able to do it without the money I saved and the money I borrowed. Among my friends who have raised money, the average is about $2000. And you will be fundraising the same time that your friends are, which is awkward. I was fundraising for a surgery the same time as another friend in my extended network, and he raised all $9000 that he asked for. He deserves it! Another friend got top surgery the same week and paid for it all out of pocket. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have fundraised! You have to just let other people’s surgeries be their surgeries and their fundraisers be their fundraisers. Boost yours and other fundraisers you don’t see getting traction as much as possible. It’s shitty and it sucks. But that’s how the internet works.

Let yourself get some money. It took me MANY therapy sessions to accept that I could and should do a fundraiser. I didn’t think I was worth it! I felt like I was taking resources from other people. But that’s not really how it works. As my friend Cass has described to me, being trans on the internet is basically part of being in a huge circle of friends constantly giving each other $30. It feels bad to take that money. But if it’s the only way you can do it, you need to do it! You can give it forward later.

Get ready to feel weird. Asking for money will lead to some weird social circumstances. I got several unexpected large donations and some of those I had to talk with the donors about. Some of your friends are secretly rich, which is weird.

Before the Surgery

Take care of your health. I panicked the week before the surgery because I was convinced I would get sick and then they couldn’t perform the surgery on me. One night, I got off the bus 10 stops before my house because the guy sitting next to me was coughing without covering his mouth. I sucked on so many zinc tablets my taste buds are still fucked up. I even called the surgeon to assuage my fear that it would be ok if I had a cold, and they were very firm with me about not being sick at all being very important. You should think about this before scheduling a surgery a) at the end of the semester or a more stressful period at your job, b) during cold and flu season, and c) during the holidays. I was fine! But it triggered my deepest compulsion and it made me way crazier than I needed to be before getting surgery.

Let other people help you. I didn’t do this as much as I should have, but ask people for help with getting prepared, cleaning your house, whatever will help you be less stressed at least the week before your procedure.

Try to avoid going down the internet rabbit holes. I read A LOT of surgery result stories and felt like it was going to either be me feeling 100% two days later or being bedridden for two weeks. I think there is value in reading people’s stories, but remember, they are stories and sometimes are embellished, and also aren’t the only possible outcomes. I felt like since I hadn’t been working out, taking supplements, etc. etc. it was going to be bad and my long term recovery would be bad. It’s just not true! There are things you can do to prepare, and you should do what makes you feel the most confident. But don’t listen to the advice of every musclebro out there.

Try to R-E-L-A-X. I know this is pointless advice, but try to be calm, meditate, do breathing exercises, etc. Get your blood pressure down. Also, doubt and guilt are totally natural feelings. If possible, I highly recommend reaching out to someone who has had top surgery to talk with them about these feelings if you can. It was really helpful to know it was normal to feel guilty and doubtful, and to also know that those feelings would reside with time.

If you smoke tobacco, they will ask you to stop at least two weeks before surgery. Just keep this in mind!

Day before/of surgery

Pack button-downs only and lots of sweat pants. If you need sweaters, go with cardigans and zip ups. You won’t be able to raise your arms over your head.

Go shopping before you get the surgery. Here’s a list, if you don’t get a package of stuff from your surgeon. I recommend getting these items prior to your procedure:

Two post-surgical binders—you will be provided one most likely. Get another if possible, or even two

If you are doing open drains: thin, wingless pads and extra large bandages. The thin pads will be nicer than the maternity pads they’ll give you to drain into, and eventually you can switch to bandages.

Sleep aids – it can be hard to sleep, even on pain meds.

Ibuprofen or other pain medicine – go off the hard stuff as soon as you can, because you’ll feel bette

Fiber pills – you won’t want to eat a lot, probably, and fiber will help your digestive system get back on track.

Stool softeners or laxatives – see above

Benadryl for itching

Neosporin

Lots of things you like to drink – I got two big bottles of Gatorade, Diet Coke, and cherry lime fizzy water.

Straws

Appealing snacky foods

Baby wipes and/or flushable wipes – I used these for everything and way more than I expected to

A massage ball (e.g., lacrosse ball) or some kind of massage tool for post-surgery massage. I just couldn’t deal with the feeling of pressing on my own incisions and chest; having a massage ball helped.

Laundry detergent--especially if you can bring no-rinse stuff like Soak

You won’t be able to eat before the surgery so eat when you can.

Don’t drink 24 hours before surgery. Some surgeons have harder rules on this. I tried to limit myself to one drink max per day the week before surgery.

The Surgery

This is what my experience was. We got to the surgeon’s office. I had my friend/care partner come in with me. We looked at before and after pictures in the waiting room. There was champagne, but I couldn’t drink it. It’s very strange if you get your surgery at a plastic surgeon’s office!

Very shortly, the first nurse led me into the consultation room. She weighed me (and made a weird comment about me losing weight). I did a bunch of paperwork. The nurse asked me which song I wanted played as I went under. I said something by Reba McEntire. She took my temperature and BP. My BP was 150/90 or something terrible – I told her I had white coat syndrome, and she told me it was relatively normal to have a high BP the day of surgery. I had to take off all my clothes in the bathroom after that, then put on surgical underwear and socks.

After that, she gave me a Valium and some other drugs. She took pictures of my chest from several angles. We waited for a long time. My friend caught some Pokemon. I freaked out. The Valium kicked in. I met with the surgeon. We talked for a long time about what my goals were (which we had already discussed over the phone). Mine were as follows: I didn’t want my nipples to be too close together, and I wanted my chest to look normal for someone of my size. I brought a “wish pic,” but I didn’t give it to anyone and I don’t know if they used it. She drew on my body with a medical marker. She took a lot of measurements and we tried to eyeball where my nipples would go. She rubbed nitro ointment on my hand. Then she left.

We waited more. The anesthesiologist came in and asked a ton of questions and had me do paperwork. She smelled like cigarettes. We waited even more. Then, very quickly, I was ushered into the surgery room. I was swarmed by nurses and the anesthesiologist. I couldn’t tell what Reba song was playing. They put compression pumps on my legs and strapped me to the table. Then I fell asleep and woke up with a new chest. I apparently told everyone Cass was my smartest friend, but only to tell him that he was one of my five smartest friends so he wouldn’t get a big head.

My Procedure

I had a buttonhole done, which is similar to a double incision but it retains a pedicle of nipple tissue, which purportedly increases the chance you will retain nipple sensation. So far, I have some feeling in one of my nipples, which is very rare for top surgery. So I guess that is a good sign.

Early Recovery

You will need more help than you think. I had a pretty fast and smooth recovery. Even with that, I really relied on my care partner to help me dress my drains, rebind, etc. I was also really depressed and lonely after surgery, and he being there was really helpful.

Find some activity you can do that feels productive. We played SO MUCH Pokemon Go and Ingress while I recovered. This was fun for both of us!

The pain may be less than you think. You’re coming off of anesthesia when you are recovering, and your pain might feel less intense as a result. Often you don’t need to take as many pain meds as you are given. For me, the most terrible sensation is…

ITCHING

THE ITCHING (FOR ME) IS TERRIBLE. The nurse told me that opiates make the itching worse (!) and it’s also just part of the wound healing process.

When ready, try to walk and move around. It will help you feel better! But don’t overdo it. I walked a little the first and second day, then a whole lot after that.

Make time to sleep and don’t expect to get work done. It’s really hard for me to envision not working, but for once, I was able to get exactly no work done for a few days. For the first two days, I also slept >12 hours at nighttime and with naps.

I may come back to this and add or remove as I keep recovering!

#top surgery #trans

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advice4smartgirls · 7 years

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hi i go to a shitty university. it isn't nationally ranked or anything and u know? it's just not great. not even average. i'm a journalism major. is it worth transferring for your senior year of college? how much does where you go matter on resumes and shit? because i feel like a huge loser. and i don't even know how to get an internship. i'm going to be a junior right now though.

Hey! I have a rather long answer for you, as knowing whether to transfer or not is a hard decision to make. But I also have a kind of quick summary of the main things to consider at the end my answer.

First of all, you’re not a loser for going to below-average university. There are so many factors that go into where everyone ends up for college. Many people didn’t have the chance to attend high quality high schools, aren’t in a good enough place with their mental health to perform well in school or on college applications, or lack resources to be involved in the kinds of extracurriculars that look good on college applications. People might not get the scholarships they need to go to better universities. Also, so many qualified people get their applications rejected from schools they would have thrived at all the time. So many people appIy to most colleges that who gets in and who doesn’t can often just come down to almost chance. I don’t know the reasons that you didn’t go to a different school, but I’m sure there were good ones. Also, academic success is not all the measure of a person’s worth!

Also. Where you go to college does not matter to most employers. All they care about is that you got a degree some *somewhere*. The only two exceptions to this are that employers tend to not want to hire people that went to for-profit colleges or exclusively online colleges. If you’re attending a for-profit college, transferring would almost definitely be worth it because they’re most likely charging you way too much money for an education that will be worth less than an education you could get for cheaper elsewhere. If you’re attending an exclusively online university, I would also consider transferring.

If your college isn’t for profit or an online university, I think it’s a harder decision to make. If you’re wanting to transfer purely because you’re worried your college will hurt your future employment opportunities, it almost definitely will not and I would just stick out these last two years. However, it sounds like you’re pretty unhappy there and might be considering transferring to get a better education for your own sake or to enjoy your college experience more.

Transferring senior year can be hard. Actually getting accepted as a transfer student to a better school than the one you’re currently attending should actually be fairly easy. As long as you have performed well in college, acceptance rates for transfer students are much higher. I think the biggest difficulty is actually that many colleges will not accept all of your credits from your old university. This might mean that you will have to take five instead of four years to graduate. If you rely on federal funding, you can’t get federal funding to pay for a 5th year of college, and most colleges stop offering aid after four years as well. If money is not an issue for you, great! If you’re unhappy, I would say transfer. However, even if money is an issue (as it is for most people trying to pay for college) there are ways to avoid this. I would really research the colleges you are thinking of transferring to because you can find colleges that have high rates of students who transfer to them & that are much more accepting of transfer credits. As long as you make sure and talk to people at your new college specifically about a four-year plan to graduate to insure that will be possible, you should be able to find places that you still graduate in four years. (And make sure to speak to people directly about this, or even better, get confirmation about which credits of yours they will accept via email. Do not rely solely on what their website etc. says because I know people who have run into problems with websites being misleading/their school not living up to what they say on the website.)

Another thing is that it can be hard socially to transfer as a senior. This isn’t to say that you won’t make friends (especially as most schools have an orientation for transfer students or include you in the orientation for freshmen, where you can meet people.) But if you have a solid friend group right now, this is something to consider.

Another thing to consider is taking a leave from your college if you are in the position to do so. (Just make sure that you won’t be penalized financially - I don’t know what the rules about when you can take a leave are for your college.) This way, you can apply to transfer elsewhere without having to worry about school on top of that, and you can spend two years instead of one at a university that is a better fit for you! Just keep in mind that transfer credits may still be a problem even if you’ve only complete two years of college, and so you may still want to be strategic about that when deciding where to apply to transfer.

In sum: If you attend a for-profit or exclusively online college, transferring is almost definitely your best option. If you don’t attend colleges like this & are merely worried that your college will affect your employment in the future, you most likely don’t need to transfer! If you’re really unhappy at your college and that’s why you want to transfer, it may be worth it, but you should insure that it’s a financially feasible option. If it’s not financially feasible, that sucks, but even though two years seems like forever I promise it’s really only a small part of your life & that you will get to do bigger & better things after college! If it is financially feasible, I would sit down and actually make a list of pros and cons of transferring just to insure that you’re making the right choice for yourself! It might also help to talk this over with an adult or a friend who knows you well and get their advice about the situation.

Also, about getting internships. It’s hard and overwhelming to try and get internships! But I have some advice. One thing is that most colleges have someone you can talk to that can give you guidance. I would look into that, as that could be a really helpful resource. However, if your school doesn’t have anyone like that, I have some basic advice.

I get really overwhelmed when applying for things, and that was something I had to overcome when applying for internships last year. To help with that, I did a few things. One, I set a small goal for myself, and said that I would only apply for three internships. (If you can apply for more, it would be good to because it raises your chances of getting one. Three is a very small goal, five is a reasonable one, more than five is great but not totally necessary. You know yourself best. Set a goal that is realistic for you and lowers your anxiety.) Next, I would schedule set times to look for/apply for internships. Then, it isn’t always this looming thing you have to do. If you start working on it early, do it in small chunks, and let yourself take frequent breaks, it’s so much better. I would actually write down a schedule once it gets to be around internship season. You can start over December break because some internships are already listed then and you don’t have school as well. But keep in mind that a lot of stuff gets posted around March or even later as well.

Since I was only applying for three internships, I made sure that the ones I did apply for were really good fits for my skills and experience, so I would make sure to hunt around a bit more if you apply to less like me.

Then - actually finding internships. There are a few ways to narrow down the vast amounts of internships you can find on the web. One easy thing to do is if you know which city or a few cities you would like to be in during the summer, you can search “journalism internship Chicago” or wherever and it will get you a lot less results than just wading through the millions of results you get for “journalism internship.” Also, if there’s an organization or a newspaper you really like, you can look on their specific web pages to see if they offer internships. (Again, look around December and again in March because they may not have anything posted now.) Also, if you have any teachers you like, they can be a GREAT resource for finding internships. I really recommend going into their office hours and just saying, “Hey, I really want a journalism internship this summer. Do you know about any you’d recommend me looking into?” Especially since you will most likely need to ask one or two of them for a recommendation letter anyway.

Also, don’t feel the need to limit yourself to a specifically journalism internship. You might find one that still focuses on writing skills, just in a slightly different way, etc. Employers don’t care if you have the *exact* experience. Any internship, really, will show that you have skills and that someone wanted to hire you!

A *lot* of people don’t get internships until the summer after junior year of college. And many people don’t get internships in college at all! They are great opportunities and you should definitely apply, but if you don’t end up getting any next summer, it really won’t be a huge deal. I have a friend who worked at Starbucks during the summers between college, and she’s doing something more related to her major now that she’s graduated!

Best of luck deciding what is best for you to do!Sophie

#berryliquor #college #transfering #mod sophie

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musicprincess655 · 7 years

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Chapters: 6/20 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kyoutani Kentarou - Relationship Additional Tags: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru - Freeform, they dont officially get together by the end so they dont go in the ship tags, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, War, Blood Series: Part 4 of Royalty AU

“Do you really think we can make a difference here?”

Yuutarou ducked the particularly vicious swing Akira aimed at him for that question. Even practicing by using the flats of their blades, a strike like that would leave a nasty bruise.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think we could do something,” Akira said sharply. “You know me better than that by now. If I don’t think I can come out of a situation with a net gain, I cut my losses and run.”

“That’s what makes you scary,” Yuutarou told him.

“Shut up and fight me, Yuu.”

It was nice, to have this rhythm to fall back on. They’d been sparring practically since they’d met as little kids, when they’d still been “Yuu-chan” and “Aki-chan” to each other. Granted, Yuutarou was still “Yuu” sometimes, when Akira was feeling particularly affectionate or particularly sarcastic.

He knew better than to try and call his best friend “Aki”.

Truthfully, he would have been fine with making a run for the north. Even though he’d argued for staying to find as many survivors as they could, his end goal had always been getting them to safety, and right now, Shiratorizawa looked like the safest place.

He’d expected Akira to vote for going north. Akira had never been one for suicide missions, no matter how much he might believe in the cause. Just like leaving Kageyama, just like leaving anyone who’d been left in the castle when they ran, Akira would have cut his ties to Seijoh and run like the wind if he really thought there was no hope.

Not that Yuutarou knew exactly why Akira had a reason to hope. He’d never had the mind for planning that Akira always had, though they’d both been at the top of their class growing up. Akira had a talent for playing the long game that Yuutarou never would.

But if Akira was here now, preparing for the fight of their lives, it was because he had at least the idea for a plan. Yuutarou already knew he would follow Akira blindfolded into a battle, because everything would be planned so meticulously that no one would touch him.

Akira sidestepped, trying to avoid Yuutarou’s much longer reach, but they’d been sparring partners for a long time, and Yuutarou was ready for him. Stepping forward, sliding their blades together until he could trap them against Akira’s chest, and slipping a foot behind his friend’s ankle to pull as he pushed until Akira was flat on his back.

“You’ve always been smarter than me,” Yuutarou told him, grinning at the scowl Akira threw his way. “But I’m still faster and stronger than you.”

“Even idiots can learn,” Akira grumbled, but he accepted Yuutarou’s offer of a hand up. “Ah, shit.”

“What?”

“Something in my eye.”

Akira lifted his hand, already forming a fist to rub at his eye. Yuutarou caught it before he could.

“You’ll just make it worse that way,” he said, lifting his other hand to Akira’s face. “Let me.”

Akira stood still, left eye twitching at whatever was irritating it, while Yuutarou leaned in to get a closer look.

A piece of hair had somehow gotten into Akira’s eye, stuck from the corner and across the iris. Yuutarou swiped his thumb to the corner of Akira’s eye, pinching gently to lift the hair away. Akira blinked rapidly as the irritant was removed and his sight went back to normal.

“Your hair is getting really long,” Yuutarou told him. Akira made some soft noise of annoyance.

“I know,” he replied. “I was meaning to cut it when we were still back in Seijoh, and I just haven’t had time to deal with it.”

“It looks good,” Yuutarou said honestly. “You should leave it like this. Just pull the top part into a ponytail, and that should keep the bangs out of your eyes.”

“Because I’m definitely in a hurry to take advice about my hair from the guy who just has to keep it short and it dries in this ridiculous radish shape,” Akira shot back, but not in a mean way. That was just Akira having a bit of fun, and Yuutarou had long since learned to tell when his best friend was showing affection and when he was trying to cause harm.

“Here, look, it’ll be good,” Yuutarou assured him, reaching to his bag for a leather tie. He walked around Akira to gather half of his hair into a ponytail, tying the leather around it and fixing it in place. He stepped back around to get a good look at his handiwork.

The result was a success. Any hair that might get in his eyes was pulled up and away from his face, but the hair that was still too short to fit in a ponytail hung halfway down Akira’s neck. The look pulled the sides of Akira’s face up and wide, making fine bones and high cheeks that could be pinched look elegant.

Akira looked beautiful.

Yuutarou realized only now how close they were standing, how his hand was still in Akira’s hair, and how Akira really wasn’t that much shorter than him, despite the almost feminine face that usually belonged to male omegas.

“Akira,” he said softly, sliding his hand deeper into Akira’s hair.

Akira abruptly stepped back, shaking Yuutarou’s hands off himself. Yuutarou was just quick enough to catch the look that was equal parts anger and sadness on Akira’s face.

Not that Yuutarou understood why Akira always looked like that whenever Yuutarou stepped in close. He didn’t understand why his best friend always had a look like regret on his face when he stepped away.

His feelings for Akira weren’t exactly news to him. He’d long since gotten past the confusion of Akira coming out of puberty looking almost too pretty to be a boy, but still distinctively masculine in a way that was equal parts comforting and thrilling. Even with the increase in height and the refinement of his features, though, Akira had still been the same boy Yuutarou had met when they were five, still the same boy he’d called “Aki-chan” and chased bugs with and fallen in creeks and come home to a scolding about getting covered in mud when they were meant to be in their lessons.

And Yuutarou had always loved Akira, but somehow that had shifted to in love when they were fifteen. Yuutarou had never been able to figure out where their friendship ended and his feelings began, or if they were all the same feelings – the longer he had them, the more he thought it was the latter. He loved Akira because they were the closest of friends, and he loved Akira because they were still growing into their friendship.

There was also the physical attraction, which had been quite the rude awakening at age sixteen, when Akira’s voice had finally stopped cracking and settled into a low register that could make Yuutarou shiver. His beautiful face, his lithe, elegantly muscled body…

It was no wonder that Yuutarou had fallen for him, even ignoring their long friendship. If he’d met Akira as an adult, he was sure the other would still have him wrapped around a finger.

What was a more recent discovery was Akira’s feelings for him. Yuutarou had taken a long time to come to this decision, but he was certain. Akira had romantic feelings of some kind for him. It was all in the way he acted around Yuutarou, softer than he was with other people without the fear of the world keeping up his walls. It was in the way he would leave a hand just a little too long on Yuutarou’s shoulder, the way his teasing had become almost exclusively friendly and almost never cutting.

What Yuutarou couldn’t understand was why Akira insisted on pulling away. Those looks of regret, the way Akira always seemed a little sad after he forced himself to pull away – and he did force himself, Yuutarou could see his reluctance – were confusing. It wasn’t like they were of wildly different social classes, and it wasn’t as if their parents hadn’t become at least resigned to their closeness.

Besides, what place did class and standing have now that Seijoh was gone? The reason had to be something that Yuutarou just couldn’t see, not sharing Akira’s skill for thinking. Yuutarou just wished Akira would tell him what that reason was. Every time he tried to ask, though, Akira deflected the questions with a conversational skill Yuutarou hadn’t realized he’d had. It hurt to imagine that he might have learned it just for this situation.

“We should go see Matsukawa,” Akira said, voice subdued. “He might have important stuff to tell us.”

Yuutarou nodded, following Akira’s retreating back, as Akira must have known he would. Yuutarou would never fail to follow him.

The rest of the group was assembled, and Yuutarou could feel tension pulling at the edges. They weren’t a cohesive unit by any stretch of the imagination. Maiya was always looking north, her son close to her side, and Matsukawa wasn’t much better. Yahaba and Kyoutani stood as far away from each other as they could get while still listening to Matsukawa, with Watari as some kind of mediator between them, though it was clear which would have his loyalty if push came to shove.

One or both of them was going to leave if they didn’t resolve things.

Kyoutani would be a blow to lose – despite his shitty teamwork skills, he was a valuable fighter – but Yuutarou really worried about Yahaba. He didn’t really want that blood on his conscience, and there was no way Yahaba would survive on his own. The one thing that soothed him was Yahaba’s obvious bloodlust every time he worked through the footwork that Yuutarou had learned as a child, a kind of savage gleam in his eyes every time he got it right.

Yuutarou didn’t really want to know what he was imagining.

Matsukawa once again told them that there was nothing new. They were still moving, but they hadn’t found anything or anyone. Yuutarou grimaced. This suspended state of limbo was doing no one any favors. If they didn’t pick a direction soon, this group was going to crumble.

When Matsukawa finished, Yuutarou watched Akira walk away before he could say anything about the talk. He really wanted to know why Akira hadn’t cut his losses with this group yet, but Akira would probably be distant for a while until the memory of them so close their bodies were nearly pressed together faded.

Yuutarou just wanted to feel less lost.

#my writing #hq fanfic #a/b/o #kinkuni #haikyuu!!#royalty au #motf

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adrift-in-writing · 7 years

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Français between Us - Chapter 4

In which Lena gets a reward for her hard work.

Read on AO3

____________________

Weeks passed, and life seemingly returned to normal for Lena. Now that her professor figured out what was really going down, she tried hard to try and impress Amélie, be it not in her social skills, but more in the language department.

Thus, she started adapting to her environment again. She had gone from a shitty 12-point grade all the way forward to at least a 16 point or higher, but it’d continue to go farther and farther as time passed. Perhaps this way, she’d probably get the attention of Miss Lacroix.

Even though she still struggled in the more advanced French linguistics, that was where the so-called private lessons came in. Amélie never minded nor brought up anything but the course lessons and more or less helped her student understand them more, and even offered refreshers on some of the basics.

But that never stopped Lena from trying to finish up early. In the spare time they had, she tried to get to know Professor Lacroix better...or at least, she tried to. For every single time they finished up earlier than expected, her professor demanded she study it alone and try to do it herself afterwards. If not, come back and try again. If so, they moved onto the next tidbit of help. Or, simply, the lesson was finished.

It was always the same.

It was just around the week of the first exam for the class. Lena prepared ahead of time, studying hard and making sure she didn’t overexert herself too much. As a final option, she had decided to do one last private lesson before the exam.

Back at the classroom, the whiteboard seemed to be filled up with various amounts of conjugations and numbers, alongside common refreshers that frequently appeared, such as connaitre vs. savoir, or numbers from 0 to 3000, for the years and for age. Professor Lacroix had grabbed a black whiteboard marker and uncapped it.

“Now, how do you conjugate saisir?” Amélie softly asked, writing the common subject pronouns on her whiteboard, and then handing off her marker to her student.

“ Je...saisis? Same goes for the tu form?”

A reaffirming nod from Amélie made Lena feel a bit better as she wrote them down on the whiteboard, and just from memory alone, she filled in ‘il saisit’ and ‘ils saissent’, leaving only the nous and vous pronouns empty.

Judging by her reluctance, Lena tried to remember which was which. Even now, trying to differentiate nous and vous was difficult mostly in part that they had a one word difference.

The student softly bit her lip and haphazardly looked around, though not for long as Amélie gave a small smile that caught her attention. “Stuck, are we?”

Lena shook her head in disagreement and wrote down ‘saisiss’ on both, though that was a bit too quick on her end. In a slip of mind, she wrote down ‘nous saisissez’ and ‘vous saisissons’, which was...wrong.

Nervously, Lena turned to face her professor and ask for a nod of approval, though all she got was a head-shake, and a finger gesture to reverse the two. As a result, she softly groaned and chuckled. “Was my first guess…”

“Well,” Professor Lacroix simply shrugged, “at least you’re one of the few who got most of it right. The rest of the class seems to be lagging behind a bit.”

Amélie’s phone began ringing inside her purse, and she took a moment to fetch it and to ignore the call for now. However, as she pressed the ignore button, she looked at the time and blinked a few times.

“Hm, I don’t recall it being an hour already. Time sure flies.”

That was all the time they had for this lesson. Normally it’d be longer but, the professor needed to go due to some family business unfolding. She wouldn’t say what, and everyone didn’t have the privilege to hear. A couple minutes later, the distant tolls of the bells to signal the next hour ticking in came to pass.

Professor Lacroix shuffled her purse around her shoulder, pushing up her eyeglasses back up her bridge and erased the board while Lena made sure all of her belongings got back to where they were. While she was halfway done, Amélie seemingly finished quicker than Lena did, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll succeed. Just...study a bit more like you always do.”

With that, she went off and out the door. However, something came up in Lena’s head as she swiftly exited out, trailing right behind her professor and gently poking her on the arm, though after Amélie turned around she wasn’t quite sure how to word.

“I...I-I was wondering if you would uh…” Lena stammered, tapping her foot nervously, “um...hang out sometime?”

Miss Lacroix cocked her head to the side, curious as to what Lena was trying to pull. “Why?”

There was weak laughter from her student as Lena stammered some more and twiddling with her fingers. “Ahaha! Just as friends, yeah! Wanna get to know you some more! Hahaha!”

Amélie didn't think too much about how forced and awkward that came out, but her curiosity at this point was piqued. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Name it.”

“Co...coooooo…” Her student droned on, until Professor Lacroix furrowed her eyebrows and snapped her fingers. “Coffee! Yeah, coffee!”

Now at this point this had to be some elaborate joke. Maybe Gérard set her up for it, or maybe it was just an inside thing she wasn’t meant to know about. Whatever the case, Amélie slightly lowered her head so she could eyeball Lena without her glasses.

“...Uh-huh…” She slowly nodded, and then began walking away again, much more disinterested.

At this point, Lena perked up and reached out. “Wait!” She had shouted, almost tripping over herself. Once more, Amélie stopped and glanced back, now a little bit annoyed.

“Just once? If you don’t like it I’ll never bring it up again and--and I’ll leave it alone!”

Silence. Then, a sigh. “I don’t know if you’re pulling my leg, or...if someone put you up to this.”

Rapidly, Lena shook her head to reassure this was entirely her plan. All she got in return was more awkward silence, until Professor Lacroix tisked and exhaled.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you can get a high score on the exam - and I am talking about a high 90% - I’ll think about it. Now,” For the last time today, Amélie turned back to where she was headed and began walking. “I must go. For real.”

As she walked, Lena stood there, just a tad-bit frozen. Great, now she needed to study real hard and things would be really easy...or would it?

____________________

The day of the exam came. Everybody felt a sense of unease when they were handed their respective sheets and the hour began. Rather than be alone in monitoring the students, Gérard for the day became a monitor for the back-rows. After the test would be done, everybody had the option to leave and go on with their life. Everyone else got spread out. No two people were allowed to sit next to each other, and each had to have a required seat apart from them.

When Professor Lacroix said they needed to study, by fucking god, they had to study. There were random silent groans when her students progressed onwards, whether it be something they forgot or something difficult they needed more time to brush up on, that was their own problem. If they couldn’t pass it, they just should’ve tried harder.

But not for Lena. She desperately needed to pass this exam. She studied and pulled a few late-nighters, but nothing too serious that would be detrimental. Yes, she did say to herself she wouldn’t push it, but she really wanted to impress her professor this time around no matter what.

She seemed to be the only one confident enough to get this exam done, and in record time to boot. When things were beginning to wrap up, Lena was the first one to turn it in and thus, the first to leave.

If she could channel that confidence into their first outing - that is, assuming she even passes with the requirements to score an outing - maybe she could get her professor to turn her attitude around.

Maybe? Hell, she was prepared to even fail and not get what she wanted.

As the last student turned his papers in, Gérard’s time here was done. He had opted to grade the papers, but Miss Lacroix insisted she do them herself. With a fat stack of papers in her hand, she preferred not to whittle around on campus grounds. Rather, Amélie made her way home to grade these papers. There’d be nobody to disturb the peace, and nobody to bug her with anything school-related. When she had arrived back into her own home, the first thing she did was get working on it in time to pass them back tomorrow.

After some few finished grades for students, she became a bit displeased at the results of her class, though she could not express it, for no one was there to complain to. Deliberately of course, she tried not to write any insulting remarks on her students’ papers, and only percentages.

For a while the scores jumped between 50% to at least a decent 86% for a student in the far back whom she probably thought wasn’t doing good, but...this exam might be a fluke. Regardless, the paper she turned on next was Lena’s, and she got busy grading it.

Her eyes roughly skimmed over the parts everyone else got, and her main focus was on the tough sections and the little tidbits she knew most got wrong. With a grading pen in her hand, Amélie unexpectedly had to set it down to re-read the answers.

No. There wasn’t an incorrect answer on the tough parts.

In fact, the answers Lena gave to her were all correct.

After a brief moment, Professor Lacroix set the paper down, blinking a few times. She checked the time to see that about an hour had passed, and she wasn’t aware that even happened. A couple more papers and she’d be ready, but...that could be for later.

She couldn’t believe it. Lena had actually exceeded her expectations. She can’t possibly break her end of the deal now, and given that so far a foreign exchange student managed to beat her fellow native French-speaking students...that was something else.

“There’s hope for you yet, Miss Oxton...” Amélie muttered, softly grinning before grabbing her grading pen, and began scribbling something.

____________________

And now, the moment of reckoning. The French students came into class, each having a semi-class discussion about how they thought they did on the test. Without the professor around, they seemed more lax on talking than they usually did while she was in here.

Most thought they probably failed it, which was pretty much the typical majority. Though, most were curious as to how Lena reacted to it. Simply put, she shrugged and passed it off as a relatively alright test. In return, a good chunk of the kids rolled their eyes and made comments wondering if she was serious.

About a minute before class officially began, Professor Lacroix had arrived carrying a stack of graded papers with her and casually set them down on her desk.

“Good afternoon, class. I managed to finish grading these papers last night, you’ll get them back later.”

Upon taking her seat, she had encountered several hands raised in the air. Undoubtedly they were rather simple questions such as ‘What was the highest score’ or ‘Is this exam going to be curved’ or whatever the students had in mind.

There would be a major curve, at the very least. At least she wasn’t the cruelest professor around the block, but it didn’t change that she passive-aggressively chewed out her students.

“The average for this exam is...exceedingly poor. I expected far better.” She had disappointingly began, “Previously, all classes I have taught at least had an 80%, but no lower than 70%. This class could only scrape a 65%, with the exception of a few select students.”

The class went silent, though Amélie shrugged and patted the stack of papers. “A 65% is not the worst grade you can get, but here in this University, you must strive to be better. This will be the only large curve I give.”

When it came near time to pack up and go home, that was when the exams were to be passed back. Rather than go in alphabetical order - something Professor Lacroix liked doing - she decided to pass them in the order she saw fit. For what it was looking like, she gave back the worst grades first and progressively better ones were last, but none of her students knew about that anyway.

Mutters filled the air as students talked to their friends, wondering if they could take some time to get tutoring after-school, or at the very least switch professors.

As more and more of them exited, class-time bled over just a little bit when the final student left behind was just Lena herself. She had been anxiously anticipating for her test back, as it was rather evident based on how jittery her leg was bouncing up and down throughout the call-ups of other kids.

Amélie smiled, feeling rather content about withholding her paper. But, she had to reveal it sometime. So, with a delicate gesture, she beckoned Lena to come up to her.

Lena swallowed, and almost tripped coming up to her professor’s desk. The last paper was faced-down and protectively held by Amélie, just before she neatly slid it to Lena, saying nothing.

Her hands shook, but she grabbed a hold of her exam, closing her eyes and flipping it over. And then...one eye opened up.

A rather large sticky-note had blocked off her score, albeit it left a big ‘0%’ to be seen. By illusions alone, Lena’s heart fluttered and she panicked a smidge, until she realized that the sticky-note was there.

“Is...is there supposed to be a sticky on my paper?”

All Amélie did was smile some more and nod, acting coy. She rotated her chair so her body was facing her student, where she clasped her hands together and crossed her legs. “Remove it.”

So Lena did, though really, really slowly. The first thing she had read was her grade: A full 100%. Her eyes then slid over to read the message.

‘Quand est-il temps pour le café?'

“When...is it time for coffee.” Lena read it aloud, feeling a wave of heat strike her, and her heart skipped a beat. Her hands managed to lower the paper as she faced against Amélie, who graciously chuckled.

“You were the only student. I think you deserve to get to know me if you keep this up.” She pursed her lips, and handed Lena a spare pencil. “Write down a time.”

No pencil was really required as Lena set it back on the desk. “H-how ‘bout tomorrow?”

Amélie shrugged and hummed positively before nodding. “I have nothing planned for tomorrow aside from a small meeting with the administration.” She had began, double-checking to make sure she was correct. Indeed she was. “So I suppose right after your classes, then?”

Tomorrow was a Friday. That’d be perfectly fine seeing as her schedule was practically free, and all the homework could wait for later. Without even thinking, Lena just nodded rapidly and awkwardly grinned.

“Sounds brilliant! I’ll...I’ll be there!”

“Good. You know where to find me, yes?”

Then, Professor Lacroix stood up, and grabbed her purse, heading out of the classroom. “If you’ve any questions feel free to visit me later today.”

The door shut, and from that point on, Lena had the hugest burden lifted off of her shoulders. She started fist-pumping the air and silently chanting ‘Yes’ multiple times, all while getting her exam stuffed back into a folder for safekeeping.

She got her wish and approval. Now all she needed to do…

was find the nearest fucking coffee shop.

And try not being too gay to prevent any suspicions.

#Widowtracer #Tracemaker #Tracer #Widowmaker #Overwatch fanfic #Overwatch #Lena Oxton #Amelie Lacroix #Character: Tracer #Character: Widowmaker

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frfrauzis · 7 years

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Myve's really interesting to figure out because i'm trying for an interesting balance of various traits

high Strength and a sturdier build on account of heritage and some upbringing; her mum was a half-orc warrior, lead the mercenary troops employed by the local Lady. she was very often hired away from home, leaving Myve with the common folk and a very conspicuous Warriorly, Approximately Mother-Like shape to grow into.

(and ok, so “became evil because their mom didn’t love them enough” was the randomly rolled trait. [Myve's character as a whole was very randomized. and it kinda spiralled out and wove together from there.] but y’know what, her dad the dragon had fuck all to do with her too, so let’s amend that to point fingers less specifically, shall we.

until surprise! turns out dad gave you magic in addition to those scales. her martial-oriented tutors kinda go “what the fuck are we supposed to do with this” and extinguish the poor lad she was sparring against when she discovered she could breathe fire. but more on that later.)

high Charisma, generally of the intimidation variety because it’s easier/expected [see re:Strength], but in an understated way - the kind of Presence that's powerful despite/because of its quiet.

and of course she's capable of compelling warmer feelings than fear/awe/respect, but her current company is all tied up with work - mainly lower-ranking minions and employees under the same patron, and they are frankly salty that she gets the clout ‘round here. would possibly sell her out for a Single Corn Chip if given leeway. so not exactly romance or even friend material, fffs. Myve gradually defaulted to using her People Skills just to manage the place.

... which is what made it so easy to befriend Calvaria, in a weird roundabout way.

see, Myve had been on the road for a while, enough to enjoy the freedom of being friendly rather than authoritative while charming herself easier passage - and that was a fun change, but at the end of the day Myve isn’t a social butterfly. she’s persuasive because it serves a purpose (and true, sometimes that purpose is as simple as “having pleasant interactions with other people is nice”; sometimes it’s also “I’m strapped for cash and this guy looks like he’ll give discounts for friends”), but it remains a skill - a skill she’s very talented in, but which still needs to be consciously exerted - rather than a natural inclination. [Nott’s more an example of the latter, though there’s complications with him as well.]

so when she needed directions in the forest, and the only person available was a hermit who looked mildly displeased at being disturbed? well, by the time she’d coaxed not just directions but also a map out of Calv’s grudging hand, and Calv snippily said “Need anything else?”, Myve was a bit tired. let’s be frank, Calv’s reserved disposition is Not Conducive to friendly chatter.

so Myve says “Somewhere to stay for the night would be nice” and puts the silver tongue away to recharge. and Calv gives her the (kinda shitty) room where she keeps her scavenged moth-eaten tomes, because 1. this is some kind of hermit hut, it’s amazing she even has a spare room 2. Calv has never heard of giving your guests the better accommodation in the house when hosting.

somehow that stay gets extended, I’m fuzzy on the details. probably Myve catches some of the text in those books and is intrigued. point is, Myve comes to rather like it here, without all the bustle, and it’s... nice, to not have to Be Nice. it’s relaxing. no worries about saboteur colleagues or getting into strangers’ good books just to find a place to rest.

(I do know that when Myve inquires about the source of Calvaria’s magic, Calv says “Books.” and it’s the most bizarre thing Myve’s ever heard. she reads books, of course - they were actually a far more pleasant alternative to the social interactions she had available to her irl - but her sorcerer powers tend to tap something more innate and intuitive.

eventually they figure something out, where Calv helps her learn the basics, and they develop their necromancy alongside each other, branching into different focuses.)

anyway, Myve and Calv have a grand time making flesh golems and gravesearching. the romantic side doesn’t quite kick in yet, not at this point, though there are definitely some... nebulous inklings of Affection jumbled in the budding friendship and general headiness of feeling Really Independent and out of their mothers’ and society’s circles. just a couple of 30/40-something (read: early 20s) kids, feeling like they’ve got a steady foot out into the world.

at some point they part ways - learned all they could together, and Myve does have a patron to go back to.

aaaaaand correspondence gradually dwindles, as it does. kinda disappointing for both parties, or maybe not, depending on if they were distracted by other events. [I’m fuzzy on that too.]

until, hah, flash forward some years. Calv’s making an Honest Living as an adventurer with Nott, on the side of Good overall; Myve’s wrapped up in Nefarious Schemes and has somehow landed the role of villain in one of their adventures. sure sounds fun, I wonder what’ll happen next.

(spoiler alert: haven’t the foggiest idea, but it ends with Myve joining their party. which makes 2 magic-users and 1 bard, probably very unbalanced, but eh. Nott can get stabby. Myve could deck a number of folks. Calv uses a staff purely because it can also hit you upside the head.)

my favorite thing is how Nott and Myve are both very high-Charisma types, the tiefling and the partial-orc/dragon who work themselves into people’s good graces despite the racial reputations. and then you have Calvaria, of the conventionally diplomatic half-elves, who is openly disdainful about dealing with social nonsense and loses what semblance of Charisma she has once actually engaged in conversation. it’s a lovely trio dynamic.

also some kinda line about “cold hearts coming alive” when Calv and Myve first get close because listen, this is a necromancer romance and if the imagery’s not fitting what’s even THE POINT

also the contrasting fire and plant motifs. I’m so pleased with it. I want some kind of nature spirit AU where Myve’s the volcano and Calvaria’s the flora that regrows every time in the wake of the eruption, flourishing even more than before as a result of it; Calv proves to Myve that her powers are Good and Myve gives Calvaria a pause from life to breathe and regain strength. I am so very pleased with myself. I love them very much.

[and since we’re under a readmore, and talking about AUs, and very much rambling now]

hey. dragon age AU. city elf Nott? human mage with elven background Calvaria? qunari Myve? I haven’t actually dug into DA’s lore enough to properly discuss this but. hey. dragon age AU.

#rambles #not fr #here's more info on the Fantasy Soap Opera crew #so hey this started off as tags for the last post #but y'know. when you get into a roll #i don't know how a simple note on character traits mutated into a pseudo character profile but here

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joneswilliam72 · 5 years

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Meet Dominique Purdy, writer and star of the fiercely comedic dark satire, Driving While Black.

With February being Black History Month – honoring the triumphs and struggles of African Americans throughout U.S. history – we caught up with Driving While Black star and writer Dominique Purdy for a chat on acting, the film, the experience of people of color in dealing with the police, what births the "fuck the police" attitude in youth, what we can do about it as individuals and much more.

Driving While Black is a fierce, truly Kafkaesque satire that everyone should see. It is based on real experiences Purdy has had with the police from his teenage years to today and is ever so relevant in an era where deadly experiences with police and people of color seem to be happening with increasing regularity since Michael Brown and Ferguson, Missouri in 2014. The whole thing is Kafkaesque when often the people being singled out and harassed by the police as bureaucratic enforcers, are targeted for no other reason than their race.

We should all be upset when that kind of treatment occurs, no matter the color. Yet, police harassment can and does happen to more and more people precisely because of over-policing as a result of the Drug War and the cops being weaponized when they are in the role of collecting revenue for the state for non-crimes like not wearing your seat-belt or in the abuses of civil asset forfeiture; to even the police shooting the wrong people when executing a no-knock search warrant on the wrong house entirely. Even pets are often not immune with some officers executing dogs with impunity – there's even a national database tracking these "puppycide" numbers.

All those things are directly attributable to over-policing. When you make nonsense things – like not wearing a seat-belt or possessing a little pot – crimes you still create real criminals. The way those "criminals" are handled is always harassing, and far too often that harassment is based purely on the race of the "suspect". This is a problem we should all be worried about and doing what we can to stop.

In Driving While Black, Dmitri (Purdy) is a pizza guy who would rather smoke weed and suffer for his art, but his mom and his girl won't stop nagging him to get a real job. When he's offered a gig mouthing off to tourists behind the wheel of a Hollywood "star tour" bus, it looks like everyone might get what they want. Trouble is, our man can't seem to step out the door to get to the interview without endless complications: busted radiators, simple weed scores gone sideways and LAPD cruisers seemingly everywhere. Dmitri's skill at going unnoticed by cops is honed by painful experiences growing up black in L.A., but even his keen survival instincts won't save him from the week from hell.

Dominique Purdy in the behind the scenes shot from DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

With a jovial swagger to its walking pace, Driving While Black is half comedy of errors and half hard-bitten realism, tucked into a sly treatise on 21st-century over-policing. Enjoy the interview below and catch Driving While Black on digital now.

Hello Dominique and welcome to The 405! To start things off, what initially inspired the film? DWB is so timely not just from (sadly) what is happening in society but also in film with movies like Green Book and BlacKkKlansman. Seeing especially the racism and discrimination in Green Book paired with the racism in Driving While Black made me wonder, have we really come that far from 1962?

The inspiration for Driving While Black came from just that "Driving While Black " It's my experiences growing up dealing with the cops in LA since being a kid up to the present time. Police prejudice against black people and other people of color is always gonna be a timeless topic in the culture!

A sad thing indeed.

This movie was shot in 2014 and first premiered at the El Rey Theater on Wilshire Blvd. [Los Angeles] on June 30th 2015 to a packed house. We had to turn people away to not violate the fire code on capacity.

Great you had that kind of turnout.

I believe we sparked a wave with DWB in this era of Hollywood wanting to invest in more black stories on film and TV. Look at some of the most popular movies and show since 2016: Insecure, Atlanta, Random Acts of Flyness, Get Out etc.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

We definitely have made a lot of progress since 1962 . Niggas couldn't even eat at the same restaurants as white people without gettin' sprayed with a hose or the Ku Klux Klan burning a crucifix in front of their house later that night. Racists never went away – just got quieter because it became less cool to be so blatant. Is there whole lot of progress to be made? You damn right!!!

I'd add in a movie that DWB kind of reminded me of: Boots Riley's incredible satire Sorry to Bother You. Of course, DWB didn't go full-on surrealist like Riley's movie but I see them as both very satirical.

The rest is true too. I suppose it can be just hard at times to be hopeful in the current cultural climate. What did your collective process look like on writing the film with Paul [Sapiano]?

I've known Paul for a cool minute so when we would kick it I would always be telling him some shit that happened to me with the cops. Even though it was wild shit, I'm so used to it I can see the humor in it of how ridiculous it is that black people have to have these feelings and take certain precautions when dealing with the police. So we would start writing some of these stories down to start forming what would become the film.

DWB was a fiercely satirical and darkly comedic piece (in a sort of neo-Kafkaesque absurd way) that is sadly far too true to life. Dominique, what would you like our readers to know who don't have to go through these kinds of harassing experiences on a daily basis? Not just while driving but I'm sure while doing other everyday things too. As I am not a person of color, I can't really speak to it, but I can do my best to listen and learn.

For people who haven't really experienced any police drama in their lifetime and want to just get an understanding of it from the perspective of a young black male watch the film it shows you with humor better than I can explain. I've had elderly white people come up to me after seeing the film during a film festival saying when they saw this police issue we deal with through a new set of eyes. It changed how they thought about situations they had previously saw only from the cops side.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

That's fantastic that people have been touched like that and I can certainly see why, having watched the film. What can people who don't have to go through these kinds of experiences do to help those who do and help make the social climate better?

Watch DWB and spread the word.

What do you think can be done on a community level to fight the kind of discrimination the film shows?

I don't know the answer but everyone becoming more aware of what's going on. Meaning ALL people not just people of color. We ALL have to understand the history to be able to create change.

So true. I think steps like having mandatory body cams and citizens' review boards to oversee them may be good first steps too. But certainly everybody has to pitch in on this. Any funny or memorable moments that stick out from the process of filming?

When we were in the editing process for the film, I was coming in to the office to do some voice overs one day. The whole area was surrounded by cops. I guess they were searching for someone.

Oh shit.

I called the office and said "Yoooo the whole area is crawlin' with police how can I get through to the office?"

Someone said I could cut through the alley and it would let out right by the office. I drive in this alley and as soon as I come out the other side more cops are right there…

Damn.

…they pull out guns and ask to search the car. They thought I might be hiding the person they were looking for in the backside. Cops were like "What are you doing over here?"

I said "Yo, I'm actually going to this right here. I'm working on a movie about y'all".

Then I hopped on the phone and called Paul to come outside and vouch for me. One cop was a straight asshole claiming I fit the description on the suspect they were looking for. The other cop was chill apologizing for the hostility.

Wow. Good cop/bad cop quite literally.

When Paul came out they realized I was telling the truth and let me go. When I went inside the office, there was another actor in the film – a black guy – who was like " How come the cops didn't harass me like you? They just let me right in…"

He was offended that they didn't harass him at all. I was like "You a clean cut nigga! I got too much of that hip hop vibe they had to fuck with me&".

Damn. Glad it didn't get much beyond that. Still sucks you were hassled though. What do you hope audiences will ultimately take with them from the film?

I'd like for black people and other people of color to be happy seeing a story being told focused on something we deal with in society from a fresh perspective that they relate to. There has never been a film like this.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

Absolutely agreed. It was refreshing, brave, and very funny. And I'm a white guy.

I'd like for white people and others who have never had experience any kind of police prejudice to leave understanding the psychology of how the FUCK THE POLICE attitude is born in a black child and how it grows. Through humor we can make people laugh and then think deeply at the same time. The uneasy feeling I get when I see the police never is going to go away but that's just life for a lot of black people... ain't that a bitch?

It sucks. Not to say others (particularly white people) who go through shitty experiences with the cops have similar experiences to people of color here, but I often wonder why more people aren’t instinctively worried when they get pulled over – especially when you see increased enforcement of more BS “non-crimes” like seat-belt laws. But I've also had my share of bad experiences there too like the cop who grew increasingly agitated because of my hands after he pulled me over. I have a hand tremor similar to Parkinson's and I tried explaining that but he didn't care, made me do the field sobriety test because of it in fact. So absolutely those shitty experiences are universal. But, I digress there…

A question I ask everybody: what makes a great film?

A great idea and unique execution of that idea makes a great film. Don't try to be like anyone. Take risks. Trust your instincts and keep them parallel with your vision.

Very well said. And all marks that DWB absolutely hit.

And another question I ask everybody: what films and performances have really stuck with you over the years and influenced you as an artist? A big question as well I know.

Shit, that's a tough one because my influences are all over the place. So let's do off top of my head…

Definitely.

…the Japanese Samurai Saga film Lone Wolf with Child and Ice Cube's Friday.

Cool. Final question, what is next for you?

I've got a lot of fly music shit coming this year! Catch me on the gram under my moniker: @KTOWNODD.

youtube

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