#and the more I ponder this matter the more strongly I feel that it is the right thing to do

[turiluvr]

Could I request something (anything) with venti or lyney? 🥹🥹 only if you have time ofc no pressure!!

moonstruck

Swallowing his doubt, the words lodged in his throat finally got out.

— lyney x gn!reader

Lyney recalled that Inazuma had an old phrase that was commonly used in the past to profess their love. It was a piece of trivia he came across after talking to a traveling merchant in Fontaine. He couldn't help but think they were romantic in nature despite their roundabout way of declaring their love. It was a gamble anyway, it all depended on whether or not the other person knew the meaning behind those seemingly meaningless words.

People from Fontaine were romantic in their own way—they often found ways to romanticize any sort of situation and it wasn't difficult for them to come up with their own ways of declaring their love. As a magician, Lyney found himself liking things that were more indirect and roundabout. After all magic was all about misdirection and he was a master at it.

Lynette often told him to just go out and say it without anything veiling his feelings and words. Coming from someone as straightforward as she is, Lyney can only chuckle and remind his sister that it didn't come to him as easily as it did to her. He went out of his way to mention that perhaps even Lynette will have a hard time being forward once she falls in love; they are quite similar, after all. She might find herself tongue-tied the same way Lyney is right now.

But the moon was out and it was shining so brightly to the point where it took his breath away. His mind wandered to the words the merchant told him that time. It was the perfect opportunity to say it—gazing into the sky side by side, the moon was waiting for the words to be uttered and to bear witness to a long awaited confession.

But it's more difficult than he thought it would be. The words are already on the tip of his tongue, begging to be released but the voice is stuck in his throat and suddenly he's having second thoughts about this whole confession attempt. It was laughable, really, he was usually smooth with his words but he can hardly get a word out when it came to you. Especially during times where his words mattered the most.

Then, when he finally looked at you and mustered up the courage, “The–”

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?” His lips parted slightly in surprise, his eyes widening when he realized that you took the words right out of his mouth and made it your own. A part of him felt that it was a little unfair for you to steal the spotlight from him, now he's left speechless and wondering if your words carried the same intent as the one inside his head.

He'll take the chances in the end. He didn't know if your words had any meaning—were you declaring your love to him or were you just simply saying the moon looked beautiful? Despite his questions, his mind was already searching for answers he could give you. There was no time for pondering. If you meant it in a way that made his heart leap with joy, then perhaps you'll react just as strongly once he gives his response.

“The moon has always been beautiful.”

*Note: It's a famous phrase in Japan to say "The moon is beautiful tonight" as a substitute for saying "I love you"

There are many variations of responses to the saying however in this case, "The moon has always been beautiful" means "I've always loved you"

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #my writing #lyney #lyney genshin #genshin impact Lyney #lyney x reader

[hwnglx]

could u pls do how beomgyu acts when he’s around his crush ?? <33

how would beomgyu act around his crush?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

pagow, 7osw&knosw&6ow, ju, 2ow, 5oc, 10oc, 3osw

+ having his ☼ in pisces and ☾ in scorpio, beomgyu is a deeply emotional and sensitive person in general.

however, once he's in 🥰 mode, he can get surprisingly assertive and fiery. his aries venus and sagittarius mars, gives him this active and direct approach when it comes to romance.

having a crush, is something that enables a lot of passion and excitement within beomgyu. it makes him feel alive. his heart beats strongly, his adrenaline shoots up, he gets very enthusiastic and passionate. there is this almost childlike exhilaration he will feel. he's definitely the type to get all thrilled over a single text message from his crush.

he'll be incredibly curious about his crush. once he develops interest in a person, he wants to know everything about them. he wants to know what his crush likes, what they dislike, what they enjoy doing, what they don't enjoy doing. beomgyu won't do this in a particurlary creepy manner, but his crush will just be so interesting to him. he'll wonder a lot like.. "wow what could this stunning person be like?" he'd ask them to tell him about themselves if they ever went on a date and pay a lot of attention to his crushes words. he'd also be very interested in learning about the person's views on deeper things, and love to have a lot of meaningful conversations about topics that go beyond the standard small talk.

beomgyu will do a lot of thinking and pondering over how to proceed, on his own. he isn't really the type to let everyone know he has a crush on someone, and is a person who prefers keeping this matter more private.. however, he'll be pretty direct and straightforward in his pursuit.

he showcases his interest in someone in a confident manner, and won't be afraid to make his liking obvious to his crush. quite the opposite, he really wants to act on his feelings. definitely the type to just come up to a person he finds interesting and flirt with them directly. compliment them bluntly, like telling them they're probably the most beautiful person he's ever come across, he couldn't resist talking to them. he can be very straightfoward and smooth, great at flattering. to the extent where it could surprise some people, since he usually doesn't seem like an extremely blunt guy. but in romance, he's all in.

he will be incredibly attentive. i can see him being amazing at keeping intimate eye contact and closely listening to every word his crush says, just letting them speak and rarely interrupting them. beomgyu will be excellent at making his crush feel thoroughly listened to, cared about and special. he's the type to make his crush feel better about themselves so naturally, whether that's through compliments or just the raw attention he gives them. he really wants to make sure his crush exactly knows how crazily attracted he feels towards them, and is very eager to make them fall for him as well. having his crush like him back, will be one of the best feelings in the world for beomgyu, and boost his ego a lot.

- i can sense that there seems to be a bit of an inner conflict he can deal with, because of this obvious clash between him as a person, and him as a lover. beomgyu does have high standards, not only towards his partners but also himself. it's easy for him to feel regret over some impulsive things he said or did in the heat of the moment, look back on his conversation with his crush and think "i shouldn't have said that" or "did i overwhelm them?" "did i ruin my image?" "do they think i'm too much?" he puts a lot of importance into his crushes opinion of him, and can be afraid to make himself a fool by being too excited or direct sometimes. he wants to appear like the perfect man to his crush, someone they could never say no to.. so, he'll put a lot of effort into making the best impression on them, however deep inside he can struggle with a lot of doubts and worries.

beomgyu doesn't like seeming like a very sensitive or overly emotional person in general, since that's a part of him he hesitates to showcase openly. he doesn't like making himself very vulnerable. so, especially towards a person he's interested in, and wants to appeal to, it's easy for him to hide behind a more confident and strong facade. he feels like his "softer" side is one that is much more complex, and difficult to like.

#kpop tarot #txt tarot #his chart is crazy

[oxydiane]

during the course of the story naruto is constantly trying to fit sasuke into a category and failing, first he describes him as a friend, it feels reductive so he imagines the reason he feels so strongly for him is that he sees sasuke as a brother, he continues pondering and bouncing between “friend” and “brother” when he talks to other people and all of them question it “is it really because he’s your friend? do friends even do this for each other? think carefully if what friend means to you” so he ponders and ponders, when others ask him he always says sasuke is his “good friend” but when sasuke himself asks him and forces him to be true to what he actually feels he admits none of it was the verity from the very beginning, because how can sasuke be a friend if the way he makes him feel cannot compare to what all the other people he has come to call friends do? how can he be a brother if he has no idea what a brotherly bond feels like, if they never really saw each other as such? sasuke never tries to call naruto his “brother”, never wonders whether he feels so strongly about naruto because he sees him as a brother because sasuke knows what a brotherly relationship feels like, and naruto is nothing like that. sasuke is locked away in a special compartment of his heart and the presence is too big and overwhelming to put a direct tag on it, he cannot explain, he can only put into words the way his heart aches for him and for him only, any label is simply reductive.

while for sasuke it’s less… pondering. sasuke calls naruto his friend, but he knows it’s a lot more than that from the moment his body “moves on its own”, naruto is a person he has always resonated with and found comfort in when nothing else could, after his family died and nothing seemed to be able to brighten him up, naruto was the person he looked at and made him feel relief, naruto was the person he longed to connect to, naruto was the person he would lay down his life to protect because he’s precious, he’s precious beyond what words can describe and he’s the one that was making a steady home in sasuke’s heart and changing the path it had set in stone, and this is why orochimaru immediately saw right through it and tried to separate him from naruto; not sakura, despite her being a precious comrade too, naruto has always been the one to make all the difference. sasuke calls naruto his closest friend during VOTE1 and after that it becomes the closest thing to a best friend i’ve ever had, when he leaves naruto, he leaves half of his heart and body behind and the words naruto speaks to him do not resonate with him until the very end, because he pushes the pain and longing to the back of his mind and refuses to elaborate on what it really is; the only thing he knows? that leaving a simple friend would never be this painful. i perceive it in a way that sasuke doesn’t see naruto as “just his friend”, he doesn’t acknowledge him as somebody he wants as a lover either, naruto is somebody he feels so strongly about he deems it dangerous, distracting, too big to even try to contain in a moment in which all he’s trying to do is keep his overwhelming emotions at bay and naruto stands in the middle of the chaos like an undying reminder of what he can feel and won’t allow himself to feel at the same time. he’s wanted to be by naruto’s side for half of his life, no matter how much he tries to forget it, the feeling of something way too big to handle is still there and he doesn’t want anything to do with it, why try to fit it into a mere label? the word “love” is nothing compared to the knowledge that the intensity of his want and longing and affection is reciprocated with just as much vigour.

#another word vomit #i think about them so much #sorry #soo talks #naruto #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #rambles

[chelleztjs18]

The Monsters Within (N.R) Pt. 4

Dark!FemReader x Natasha Romanoff (Modern AU)

Summary: You like Natasha and you are keeping her to yourself. Natasha's true self slowly shows up.

Warning: This is Dark Fic, 18+. A lot of swearing words. Graphic and gore descriptions, kidnapping, mind manipulations / brainwashing, death, violence, bone crushing and stockholm syndrome, blood kink (if you squint). Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Hello hello! I'm back with the last part of this series then next is the epilogue! Thank you Lou @honey-sweet-hiraeth for helping me n for the brilliant ideas for the ending. Also thank you for encourage me to step out of my comfort zone on writing it. Happy reading! and forgive me..

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

After you let Natasha go, the house feels empty. She left a hole in your heart. Just like her, you miss her immediately but you love her and you want her to be happy. You were sure that she would come back but you start to doubt it. It has been a month she hasn’t shown up to your door. You are mad and disappointed, not to her, but to yourself.

Missing her is already hard to deal with and all these other feelings are just making it harder for you. You have nobody else. This is just another “Wanda” all over again. You killed for her but just like Wanda, Natasha left you. All the special moments both of you had, did it mean something to her? What about the kiss? You asked the same question about it.

A similar internal fight happens to you. Part of you doubts her that she will come back and make your hope disintegrated. Another part of you still believes that she loves you and will come back.

All this leads you to your old coping mechanism even though you doubt that it will fully do its job but you still do it anyway. You are on a killing spree. Like the angel of death, you take souls more often than usual. Like a judge, you give death sentences to any random people you pick to feed the unending blood thirst monster in you.

Without any question, James helps you and he tries to keep up with you on getting rid of the soulless bodies. The loyal man stands by you every night you are dismembering your victim and passes him limb by limb so he can squeeze them into the bathtub before soaking them in the pool of acid.

You usually drown the whole body in the bath of acid but tearing them apart to pieces before that, helps you a little to let out your dismay and keeps your mind busy from thinking about Natasha.

The feeling when the big sharp steel knife forces its way through the skin, cutting through the muscle until it reaches the joints drags out your anger of you slowly but so relieving for you. It makes you feel that you gain back the control over your emotion.

The rusty blood scent spreads strongly when it flows out, shakes your senses and triggers the hemoglobin flow rapidly in yourself like it’s a shot of steroid that keeps your adrenaline rush going crazier. The slicing sounds of the cut tendon and that weird yet satisfying noise right when the joints are separated forcefully playing around through your ear releasing something indescribable in you.

Victims after victims and no matter how many limbs you cut, you still feel empty. None of them can tame the insatiable urge of killing nor the feeling of having Natasha around you.

_____

Natasha’s eyes are watching the T.V but not her mind. Her body is there sitting with Maria, watching the news but her thoughts are busy thinking about something else, or you, to be precise.

Her mind ponders the questions of how are you and what are you doing right now. She can’t lie to herself, she has the wanting feeling to know if you are okay after she left you for over a month. Her heart is barking orders at her to go back to you.

She is far lost in her thoughts. The sounds of the TV flew past over her head right away. Her eyes look empty, staring at one spot of the screen without even following what’s on it.

Maria’s voice that’s calling her name and a nudge on her arm drag her attention suddenly. Her gaze shifted to her friend next to her. “Huh? What is it? Sorry I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Are you okay? I was talking about the news. Look, they are talking about the number of missing people has been increasing in a little over a month.” said Maria in concern.

Her stomach turns into a knot and lungs are emptying on their own without her permission as soon as she hears Maria’s words. “Oh yeah, that’s horrible.” Natasha lets out her sympathy as her response.

“Do you remember our regular customer, Ms. Harkness?” Maria asks.

“Oh yeah. She is a cop, right? What about her?” the redhead returned a question back.

“Yeah, her. This is supposed to be classified but she told me that they might be all dead and the suspect might be a very smart serial killer because there’s no trace found until now.” more details flow out of Maria’s lips.

Natasha starts to feel unease from everything she hears as she swallows her nervousness down. Her brain connects all the lines of information straight to you. She knows that it was all your doing.

“Did–did they find any clue who it was?” The Russian stuttered in her question.

“Unfortunately they didn’t. Not yet. Why Nat? Do you want to tell me something? You haven’t told me about everything that happened to you while you were gone. Are you ready to tell me more?” Maria asks back to back, pushing Natasha to an edgy point.

“I–I–need more time to talk about it, Maria.”

“I know, Nat but the earlier we tell the police that you are back the sooner you get the help you need. I don’t want to get in trouble for letting you stay with me without reporting the cops that you have been back for over a month now. Did you see the face of your captor or what they did?” The more Maria asks, the more anxious Natasha gets.

“No, I didn’t. It was all dark, no window. All walls. I couldn’t see the face and the person didn’t say anything at all whenever she came to give me food or clean clothes.” she rambles whatever false answer she can give to her curious friend so she would stop asking immediately. Her heart wants to protect you. She internally doesn’t want you got caught.

“Wait..wait.. She? So it’s a woman? She gave you clean clothes? I thought you said that an old lady found you on the side of the road, gave you a lift and helped you clean up? So the suitcase you brought wasn’t hers? You also told me that the clothes are some of her daughter's. I’m confused now, Nat. Which one is the right story?” Confusion and suspicion gradually grows in Maria’s thoughts when she recalls some part of the story that Natasha told her doesn’t match at all.

Maria tries to look at her eyes but she avoids them and her face slowly turns white pale. Natasha knows that she is on thin ice right now. She realized that she told Maria false details. Small unmatch details with the previous one and that definitely digs her own graveyard. All she can do right now is to cover the lies with another lie. “I don’t know, Mar. Okay? I don’t know! Please don’t push me. I need more time, damn it!” her voice was raised against Maria.

"Okay.. okay.. Nat. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Without answering her bewildered friend, Natasha rushes to her room, locking her door and hoping that Maria won't demand the truth.

As silence dominates the whole bedroom, you easily come into her memories. Shortly, you are all she thinks about. She misses you, a lot. Internally, she is longing for you. As she is sitting on her bed while trying to calm herself from the pressure that Maria’s question gave her, her suitcase got caught in the corner of her eyes.

She remembers that you mentioned the burgundy envelope then opens it as soon as she finds it. There are some numbers that are indicated as the front gate and front door lock code of your house right after your address.

She proceeds to the lines of words you wrote.

“You can always come home to me whenever you want.”

Her heart wrenches yet warmth soothes inside her. She can’t deny her feelings any longer. She misses you and wants to be with you. Without any assurance whether Yelena is still alive or not, now you are all she has. To Natasha, you are her home now. Living with Maria won’t make her life easier if she wants to keep your secret safe. Sooner or later, Natasha will be trapped in the corner of truth.

Without a doubt, Natasha decides to run away from everything and come back home to you. She packs her only belongings in the suitcase you gave her and waits until the right time for her to leave.

She sneaks out in the middle of the night and takes a taxi ride to you. The closer she is to your residence, the more sure she is that she made the right decision. Her doubt and denial evaporate. She is leaving her past life behind to be with you willingly. Filled with thrills, Natasha can’t wait to be in your arms again.

As soon as she gets off her ride home, she quickens her steps towards your gates. The beeping sound as the gate automatically unlocked right after she pressed the numbers sending a dash of feelings that made her walk even faster to the front door.

She presses the other lock codes and she opens the door right away. She scurries to the living room but you are not there.

With a smile, she naturally led herself to your shared bedroom by passing the kitchen. Her heart wrenches yet warmth and joy bubbling inside. She can’t wait to see you, give you the hug that she actually craves.

As soon as Natasha's feet led her to the kitchen, her smile quickly dropped and turned into a frown. Her excitement and the joy in her shredded into pieces in a second and they are quickly replaced by anger. The warmth that bubbled in her is now turned into a hot boiling jealousy mess.

Her heart pounds and her face feels warm from how she is feeling right now. The redhead is furious right after her green eyes catch another woman in your house with you. A brunette who is slightly shorter than you is standing in front of you with her hands touching all over you and her lips catching yours in a kiss.

Her body feels like she just got hit by a huge wave that weakens her knees but her anger supports her to stand strong.

Both of you and the woman don't see that Natasha is in the kitchen and she takes advantage of it.

Natasha doesn’t make any sound no matter how much she wants to scream. As the silence shut her mouth, her mind and eyes were moving fast in a few seconds. Her brain is thinking what she is going to do as her eyes are spotting the kitchen knife that she knows where it is.

Natasha goes ballistic and marches furiously towards the brunette right after her right hand grabs the sharp huge kitchen knife. The redhead is livid and she quickly grabs the stranger that pisses her off so badly by the hair, dragging her away from you. The startled woman screams from the pain from the pull of her hair.

With all the energy she has, Natasha pins her to the wall then her left hand quickly chokes the woman in front of her as hard as she can.. She looks at her with so much jealousy and hatred while the woman gasps for air and speaks at the same time. “Let..me..go. Who are you?” as she tries to pull Natasha's grip of death.

Everything happens too fast. By the time you try to grab Natasha, she tilts her head and watches her gasp louder as she stabs her and pulls out the knife right away out of her abdomen. Blood flows out of her wound and drips off the sharp weapon that sliced through her. From where she stabbed her, you know it’s fatal and too late to save her.

Natasha watches the crimson fluid out of her mouth and overflow her hand as she loosen up her grip then throw her to the ground.

Natasha turns her head to you but she hears the dying voice call your name. “Y/n. h–help”. SHe hates her calling your name and it drives Natasha crazy into a whole nother level. She quickly turns and straddles on her bloody and wounded lower body while the woman tries to fight weakly.. With both of her hands Natasha raises the knife and stabs her once more and that's when she took the first life out of someone.

You watch Natasha stab her again..and again..and again. Burying the knife in any part of her body she can. She doesn't even care if it thrusts into the same wound.

The sound of every lunge mixed with her grunts sound so clear in your ear delivers an indescribable feeling in you.

Blood pools around the now lifeless body and splats around the cabinet doors. Natasha's hands are now drenched in deep red colors.

You are appalled yet proud of her that she finally releases and accepts the monster in her. You just didn't expect who would be the first person she killed.

After the 16th stabs, Natasha finally stopped. She is trying to catch her breath as she stands up and turns around to you. She tossed the bloody knife away and wiped the splattered blood off her face with her forearm only ended up leaving some more smudges on it.

"Fuck, that feels so good." She said it casually and in a relieved tone as her forest green eyes looked at you.

You always knew she would look a lot more attractive with someone’s blood on her skin. Your brain is stunned with not just how she looks and what she did but it is also thinking what to do next to the dead body on the floor. You can’t deny it, no matter how proud you are of her, you are still a little shocked.

You look at her and finally break your silence. “That was Wanda.”

As soon as she hears the name out of your lips, Natasha quickly looks at the dead body with wide eyes as she bites the inside of her cheeks shortly before she asks “Are you mad?”

“I probably should be.” you answered as you glanced at the body as well then looked back at Natasha.

Silence covers the atmosphere in the kitchen along with the rusty blood scents that slowly spread. None of you say anything. Natasha is waiting for what you will say next while you are thinking.

After a good few minutes of silence, you start laughing a little. Her lips slightly open in a pinch of surprise from your reaction. She sees you walk closer to her. “Let’s clean this up.” you suggest slightly before you kiss her lips and you can taste a little bit of Wanda’s blood off her lips then you walk to do what you have to do next.

Natasha smiles from the giddy feelings your kiss gives her.

_____

You could’ve dragged Wanda’s body to the basement by yourself but Natasha insisted on helping. “This bitch..She touched and KISSED you and now even when she’s dead, she’s still a pain in the ass to get rid of.” she complains in between grunts as she helps you on putting Wanda into the tub.

“Watch it, Natty. She’s Wanda. No matter what, she’s part of my life.” you look at her in a teasing smile but there’s still a pinch of seriousness in your words.

“What? It's true. She is a pain in the ass. She’s so tall and it’s hard for me to put her in this freaking bathtub.” another complains out of her pouty lips, complete with a frown on her face.

“How did she get here anyway?” she asks in a more irritated tone yet curious as she shoves Wanda’s hand into the bathtub.

“I saved her from her ex-boyfriend and she didn’t want to be alone.” you shrug your shoulders at the same time you give her your answer. “Vision? What did he do?” Natasha pitches back another question.

“Turns out he is abusive just like her father.” you explain as you gather a bunch of big jugs of acid next to the claw footed tub.

Natasha lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Funny world. Anyway, did you kill him?”

“Unfortunately, no. We were in public.” you let out a disappointed sigh with your answer while you open each cap of the prepared jugs. Natasha can see and knows just from your sigh how much you wanted to kill him. A question popped up in her mind.

“Will you love me more if I kill him for you?” she questions as her eyes search for yours, waiting for your answer like a little puppy.

You can’t help yourself letting out a little laugh. “Cute.” It was the only word that you said.

“I’m serious. I will kill him for you, Y/n.”

“Oh believe me, darling. I know you will.” You give another quick kiss on her lips then you grab the acid.

A second before you pour it, Natasha stops you. “Wait! Allow me to pour it on my first victim.” Natasha expresses her bone chilling request in a disturbing playful proud tone along with a small giggle then takes it from your hands.

You smile and let go of your grips. She takes it as a yes from you. In silence and with gentle eyes, you look at her pouring the dangerous liquid. Amazement screamed so loud on her facial expression as her eyes rounded with thrills while watching the effect that the chemical substance gave on Wanda’s skin, slowly..inch.. by..inch.

Natasha even makes sure that she doesn’t miss any spot. A soft satisfied gasp crack the silence and flew straight to your ears as soon as she watches it burn the skin and forcefully rip its pores.

As soon as she thinks she is done with it, Natasha takes a delighted deep breath and exhales. She turns her head to you with a smile. “So, any other ex’s I need to take out?”

You laugh. “You are horrible.” and shake your head while you fill up the bathtub with more acid.

“I’m no worse than you.” she replied with a smile. And just like that, both of you casually talking and teasing each other as if nothing happened in front of Wanda's slowly dissolving dead body.

You smile at her with such adoration.

"Then we are just a couple of monsters aren't we, Natty?"

"Yes, we are." Natasha finally accepts the monsters within.

Epilogue

A/n: Welp, that's it for today! Let me know what you think. Feel free to come to my ask or message. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Follow me for more and see you in the epilogue or my other works.

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rainbow @cristin-rjd

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #dark natasha romanoff #dark natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #dark black widow #black widow x reader #dark fic #dark mcu #the monsters within au

[rhondafromhr]

Nerds corruption au chapter 5!!

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading so far! This is the first thing I’ve written in literal years and all the likes/reblogs/comments have been super encouraging :) Also, quick update: I have an ao3 account now (same username - rhondafromhr), where I’ll be uploading what I’ve written so far. I’m going to adjust the formatting and fix any mistakes I happen to catch but other than that it’ll be identical. After this, I’ll probably just update there and post the link on here whenever there’s a new chapter. Unless anyone strongly prefers to read it in tumblr post format (I can always do both). Hope y’all enjoy!

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“We’re Gonna Become The Bullies” - Chapter 5: No Matter The Cost, Idle The Threat

Hey gang, I have another plan <3 Let’s all meet at Beanies when Max is done with football practice and I’ll give you the rundown

Suddenly, Stephanie’s a lot less excited to have her phone back. How did Grace even get her number? More importantly, why is somebody whose last plan almost ended in manslaughter out here cooking up more plans? Stephanie knows she probably shouldn’t encourage this, but her morbid curiosity is just strong enough that she’s compelled to reply: cool, see you guys there. This better not be about Grace’s campaign to cancel the dance. Stephanie may or may not have an itemized list of cute homecoming proposal ideas for Pete and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to use at least one of them. If only Grace could see that she’s totally wrong about co-ed dances. They’re not just an excuse to dry hump in the gym. It’s heavily in the mix, sure, but it’s not the only thing. There’s also underage drinking and dancing awkwardly. It’s an essential high school experience. Now that she thinks about it, Grace has probably missed out on a lot of dumb teenage shenanigans thanks to her sheltered upbringing. Huh, that’s actually kind of sad. Maybe if Grace is open to it, they can help her catch up.

Before she can ponder that too much, she notices Brad Callahan passing by in the hallway, which obviously means she has to stop what she’s doing to raise her fist at him threateningly and call him a weak ass bitch. He flinches and hurries along. God, she’s been doing that every single time she encounters him and it still hasn’t gotten old. She might feel bad if it was anyone else, but Brad sucks. The best part is knowing he can’t do anything about it. She’s beginning to understand why Max does this sort of thing.

She has a couple of hours to kill before they’re meeting up, so she opts to spend them in the library at least trying to get some homework done. Not her idea of a good time, but she figures she should keep her grades high enough that her dad doesn’t get on her case again. Between the better grasp of the material that she now has courtesy of Peter’s tutoring and once again having access to her favorite chill lo-fi study beats playlist on Spotify, it’s not as painful as usual and she manages to finish most of her math worksheet before heading out.

True to form, Grace is already there waiting for everybody when Stephanie arrives. She has two disposable coffee cups in front of her, at least one of which Stephanie assumes contains hot water (seriously, what is her fixation with drinking plain hot water? Even if she’s anti-caffeine, why not just drink herbal tea or something?). Stephanie orders a hot chocolate for Pete along with an iced americano for herself, then joins Grace at the cozy table in the corner. The dainty little bell attached to the door dings to indicate Ruth’s arrival.

“Hi, Ruth,” Grace greets her, sliding Ruth one of the drinks as she sits down “This is for you. It’s tea with honey, the barista said it would be good for your voice. Gotta make sure it’s rested up for the show!”

“Since when are you in the show?” Stephanie asks Ruth “I thought you were doing the lighting board.”

“As of right now, yes,” Grace answers for her “but if you saw her perform, you’d agree she should be the one up on stage, not Trevor.” She says his name with absolute contempt.

“I still don’t know about this,” says Ruth “What if we get in trouble? I don’t want this to affect my chances of getting into college. Everyone knows that’s where all the really spicy sexual experimentation happens, watch some porn!”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue. Haven’t you heard? I’m the hall monitor,” Grace replies.

“Wow, Chasity, no comment on the porn thing? You must be laser focused on whatever this plan is.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for Ruth to reconsider that vow of chastity later,” Grace says as Ruth emphatically shakes her head no “but right now the most important thing is to make sure that lead role goes to the person who actually deserves it.”

Max and Richie arrive next, barely taking notice of the rest of the group as they sit down. Max’s anxious energy is palpable (even if he’s no longer taking his bad moods out on them, he sure can drag down the energy in a room). Richie seems to be trying to talk him down.

“Max, there’s nothing to be worried about! You guys looked great at practice today. There’s no way we’re losing to Clivesdale tomorrow. This is what you’ve been training for,” Richie says.

Max doesn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, but that’s what I thought before the last game and we got destroyed. I don’t want to sleep outside again, it’s been getting really cold out! I could die from hypothermia and become a ghost. You know how I feel about ghosts, Richie!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asks, racking his brain to try and figure out the connection between losing the big game and becoming a hypothermic ghost.

“When we lost to Sycamore, my dad locked me out of the house and made me sleep outside that night,” Max explains “but this is fuckin’ Clivesdale we’re talking about. If we lose to them, it’ll probably be for a week straight.” Richie, Ruth and Grace stare at him in stunned silence. Stephanie just gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

“Max,” Richie says, gentle and reassuring “we’re your sworn friends now, which means we’re not letting you sleep outside even if you single-handedly make us lose to Clivesdale. Just stay over at my place.”

“But doesn’t Paul, like, hate me?”

“Oh, he does not hate you. He’s just a little weary of you on account of the years of relentlessly bullying me. He’s going to be out of town, anyway.”

“Ooh, we should all have a sleepover, then!” Ruth says excitedly “That’s where sexy pillow fights happen!”

Stephanie shrugs. “Sure. Beats going home.”

“Oh, that actually does sound fun! My parents would never let me go to a co-ed sleepover, though,” Grace says wistfully.

“Just tell them it’s an overnight bible study and maybe conveniently forget to mention that the boys’ll be there,” Stephanie suggests “if it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you read, like, one passage to me so you’re not technically lying.” This elicits the brightest, most genuine smile she’s ever seen from Grace. Stephanie hopes the passage is at least one of the cool, violent ones and not something basic like “Love is patient, love is kind.” With Grace, it could go either way.

Richie doesn’t comment on everyone essentially inviting themselves over to his house. He simply leaves the table and returns with two mint teas, one of which he hands to Max.

“Here. This always makes me feel a little better when I’m anxious.”

“What? Thanks, bro. That’s so sweet.” Max can’t remember the last time he felt so loved. He never thought he’d have friends who care enough about him to bring him tea when he’s stressed and not let him freeze in the Michigan winter all night just because he loses a game.

All this talk about freezing to death reminds Stephanie that Pete’s hot chocolate is getting cold. Beverages at Beanie’s are best consumed piping hot - the spit is less noticeable that way. Hatchetfield has its fair share of strange, unexplainable phenomena, but why the health department has yet to crack down on this place might be the biggest mystery of all. Why people still come here fully knowing about the spit thing is a close second. Peter finally arrives and gratefully accepts what is now essentially gross, lukewarm chocolate milk.

“Alright, now that everybody’s here we can get started,” Grace begins “As you all know, the theater department cast Trevor in the lead for The Barbecue Monologues. Trevor!” Once again, she utters his name with vitriolic hatred. “Obviously, this is an absolute travesty and it’s our responsibility to fix it. I watched the rest of that rehearsal and he completely phoned in ‘Just For Once’. He can’t even get his lines right, let alone understand the emotional gravity of that song like Ruth does. You can’t tell me it’s God’s will to have Trevor up on that stage instead of her!”

“So, how are we getting Trevor off the stage, then? I need to know how deeply I should regret getting involved in this,” Peter quips. To his surprise, he doesn’t actually feel all that apprehensive. If anything, he’s kind of intrigued, wondering how they’re going to pull this off.

“Well, tomorrow morning I’m going to arrive at school for my usual morning duties and discover a heinous act of vandalism. I guess Trevor and his understudy decided to pull a little senior prank.”

“Wait, we’re framing Rudolph, too? Isn’t it way too convenient that the lead and his understudy both get in trouble this close to opening night? It’s going to look suspicious,” Richie replies.

“Well, those two do everything together! It’d be weirder if they weren’t both in on it. In fact, they’re so close they have these adorable matching friendship bracelets that they never take off. Except during dress rehearsals, that is. You got them, right, Ruth?” Ruth produces two thin, handmade woven bracelets from her backpack. “And at the scene of the crime, apparently, because that’s where they’re going to be found.”

“The scene of the crime?” Peter echoes back.

“The gym. They had the audacity to spray paint…” Grace lowers her voice to a whisper so the rest of the café patrons don’t hear the absolutely vile phrase leave her mouth “…‘Go Clivesdale’ on the wall right before the big game!” The rest of the group audibly gasps. Richie chokes on his tea.

“Go Clivesdale?” he sputters, “isn’t that taking it a little far? Maybe we should just write some swears or something.”

“Or anatomically correct nude drawings!” Ruth chimes in “I have a ton of pictures on my phone we can use for references.”

“Ruth, no. And Richie, the whole point is that it’s too far! We need to do something severe enough for them to actually get in serious trouble. Do you want Ruth to get her moment in the spotlight or not?”

Of course he does. Ruth has been by his side for years and helped him through some of the worst times of his life. He knows how much performing means to her. How she’s been missing out on it for years not for lack of talent or passion, but simply because her anxiety holds her back. If she finally feels confident enough to get up on stage, he decides, he’ll do anything to make that happen. Besides, Grace’s last plan worked out pretty well in the end.

“Okay, I’m in,” Richie says.

“For Ruth,” Pete agrees.

“I still don’t know her super well, but sure, for Ruth,” says Stephanie.

“See, this is why I love you guys! This plan is so smart and sneaky. I’d usually just beat him up and scare him into quitting, but this is way more fun!” Max adds.

“There’s a thought. That might actually be less effort than breaking and entering,” Stephanie muses. She is, of course, purely concerned with efficiency and is not at all thinking about the adrenaline rush she got from beating up Brad and itching to feel it again.

“We’re not breaking and entering. I’ve been a little preoccupied lately and I just might have forgotten to lock the side door to the gym this morning. We’ll just walk right in,” Grace responds with a wicked smile “speaking of which, we should head over. All the staff should be gone for the day. Steph, you’re our getaway driver!” They all follow Grace out of the café, blissfully unaware that they lingered for twenty minutes past closing time.

While her coworkers grumble about entitled customers ignoring their posted hours of operation, Zoe smiles to herself. She caught most of that conversation and can’t help but root for those kids. Committing sabotage to steal the lead role like that? Iconic. They’ve also stolen her heart. She wishes she was half as bold at their age. Their drinks will be on the house next time they come in. Maybe she won’t even spit in them.

The next morning, principal Blim arrives at work feeling less than his best, to say the least. He kicks himself for agreeing to attend “Thirsty Thursday” on a work night - he’s in his forties, who is he kidding? He really needs to stop hanging out with his cousin Barry. That guy was sure “in a hurry” to slam as many consecutive tequila shots as possible last night. He really didn’t care for Barry’s sketchy friend that joined them, either. He got way too drunk and made some comment about locking his kid out of the house whenever his football team loses. The dirtbag seemed completely serious about it, too. He knows Barry’s been going through it with the divorce, but he’s going to have a serious talk with him about how he’s been coping and the company he keeps. He drags himself to the teacher’s lounge for the coffee he desperately needs, trying to ignore the obnoxious fluorescent lights boring into his eyes and making the pounding in his head exponentially worse. As he makes his way to his office, he begs whatever higher power might be listening for a calm, uneventful day. Said higher power must be feeling vindictive, because he’s immediately greeted by a crying, frantic Grace Chasity.

“Principal Blim, thank goodness you’re here! I was doing my morning rounds a-and I stopped in the gym and somebody wrote-“ she sobs “it’s so awful, I can’t even say it!”

“It’ll be okay, Grace. Let’s head over there together and you can show me.”

There’s no need to panic yet. Knowing Grace, this could easily be her reaction to something that’s mildly crude at worst. At least that’s what he thinks until they enter the gymnasium and he realizes she’s absolutely right to be so worked up. See, there’s a beautiful, haunting, hyper-realistic mural of a nighthawk flying over the Hatchetfield Witchwood on the wall opposite the bleachers. It’s been there for about fifteen years now, painted by a former student who was slated to go to a prestigious art school, but sadly went out into that very Witchwood one day and did not make it to the end of her senior year. Now that mural has been desecrated in a manner absolutely unforgivable. As he gazes upon with horror, he drops his mug and the sound of glass shattering on the linoleum floor echoes through the empty gymnasium. This is the foulest, most offensive thing he’s ever seen in his life. He can’t even begin to imagine what type of disgusting human being would do something like this. “Go Clivesdale!” Somebody had the nerve to write “Go Clivesdale!” over the Nighthawk mural! Right before the big game, no less! He’ll catch the perpetrator and make them pay if it’s the last thing he does.

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #npmd corruption au #max jagerman #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #hatchetfield #richie lipschitz #barry swift #man in a hurry #cw child abuse mention #max jagermans shitty dad #lautski #cw alcohol #corruption arc

[amerricanartwork]

9. and 20. please.

Also love the new lil scugsona. Very fitting for you.

@scavworld's Rain World Questionnaire

Thanks for the ask! Just a quick note, that little character was actually meant to be a scug-ified version of my regular avatar, which I should probably make a ref for soon. I've always just liked the idea that it can "transform" into a different creature to match whatever fandom I'm dealing with, so I thought I'd portray it as a slugcat in this case!

Anyway though, onto the actual questions...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

9. What are your opinions on Five Pebbles (character)?

Ohhh, now that's a very interesting matter! I really like characters like him because they're so fascinating to me! For now I will disregard the fantastical element of him being a massive supercomputer, because even though in-and-of-itself I think that's such a unique concept even in fiction, especially after I realized that Five Pebbles and Looks to the Moon really are the core of not just the "story" of Rain World but even the in-game environment itself, I imagine I'll have another chance to touch up on this so I'll save my longer thoughts on that for later.

That being said, I'll start by saying I love thinking about characters from a psychological perspective, trying to figure out why they are the way they are, why they do what they do, what they really want vs. what they think they want, how they really perceive themselves vs. how they present themselves publicly, etc. Characters like Five Pebbles are always an especially interesting choice for this kind of pondering, because, as flawed as they may be, so much of the situation around them also contributed to their downfall that I refuse to let everyone else off the hook too. And since I also don't believe anyone is inherently a "bad" person, it's really fun to ponder just how these characters go from being alright people to doing such terrible things and meeting such tragic ends.

To put it shortly, Five Pebbles (and other characters like him) is in my interpretation a great example of karma in the more real-life meaning, and the "you attract more of what you think about the most" idea. Five Pebbles always seemed to feel trapped by and at arms with his surroundings, from the great opposition to his very existence from the True Anointed Citadel, to him literally being physically stuck to Looks to the Moon, to the fear of opposition he must have had as a Sliverist, to him being stuck dealing with the rot, and finally with his collapse, left as a tiny fraction of himself buried in the cold, lifeless remains of his superstructure, with truly no way out on his own. Because he was so focused on escaping the perceived confines around him, all he did, albeit unknowingly, was end up finding more nets to get trapped in.

And again, while I think everyone around him did contribute to his awful end in some way, stories like these are still pretty sad to me because, in the end, I think these characters themselves need to learn to change their thinking, yet all the harshness they face can so easily lead them to create a vicious cycle. Five Pebbles isn't the first character I've enjoyed strongly whose story seemed to play out this way, and as sad as it is, it's also very intriguing.

And besides, it opens up plenty of potential for redemption arc AU stories—!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

20. What is something you think the game could improve on?

The short answer: incentive.

The long answer: Let me start off by saying Rain World, to me, is fascinating largely as more of an art project than a normal video game. It's amazing how a relatively simple concept of a small animal in an urban environment they can't understand morphed into something so vast and extensive, combining nature with technology, science with religion, sci-fi with fantasy, and dunking it all in a super unique aesthetic that fuses urban street style with fancy ancient artwork, it's amazing!

BUT so much of this is lost to players because the game does, in my opinion, a pretty bad job of conveying it all. It's very confusing , especially to new players, and the only means of discovering the greater context of the story, besides just hearing it from other players/fans, is if not downright frustrating at least very tedious. And that's just getting the story itself. I think most people who have played this game haven't even made it that far, because the gameplay alone is so difficult the first time playing that if you aren't captivated by the mystery factor of the environment (or like me and also stubbornly dedicated to getting the bragging rights of having beat such a difficult game), you're too busy just trying to not die every other cycle to bother really exploring and ferrying the pearls to Moon, much less making sense of what you uncover.

I think the blank stare of the slugcats looking up at Five Pebbles perfectly encapsulates what I'm getting at here. You've got this absolutely fascinating story about a mechanical god who flew too close to the sun in a desperate attempt to escape the confines of his life, meanwhile the little slugcat is just all "...'kay", because what does this little animal care about the crazy religious hubris of some long-gone existence-hating people and their sad crumbling calculator robots when all it wants its is to just find more food and not get eaten again?

For a bit of devil's advocate, I will say that I think the difficulty of just playing the game and then figuring out its story, first of all is pretty "realistic" from the perspective of simulating a real-life ecosystem and having an animal discover complex lore in a way that they'd be physically capable of, but secondly has led the Rain World fandom to be really tight-knit compared to other fandoms I've seen. It seems like everyone I've come across is at least in the process of playing through all the campaigns, if not having already completed them and established some level of their own interpretation of the story, because they are all genuinely interested in the game, its characters, world, story, and themes enough to persevere through all the struggles of gameplay and lore confusion to enjoy it. However, it's also the same thing that makes this fandom rather small, which is also fine by me; I think there's lots of value in quality niche content!

With all that said though, I can't deny that I think this game isn't very good at getting players geuninely interested in all it has to offer. For evidence, consider how few players have even met Five Pebbles, who is perhaps the most important character in the entire game story-wise (Steam achievements has the "The Journey" Achievement at 12.0% of players as of posting this). Even from my experiences, I didn't even know what "Sliverist" actually meant until a couple weeks ago, and I've been playing this game and involved in the fandom for months at this point!

So yeah. To sumarize, in my opinion, Rain World is a fascinating and very inspiring art project, but most of what it has to offer is lost to most players because it's terrible at giving you a reason to care about it all. Thus, the main thing I think it could improve upon is giving players a reason to care about its worldbuilding and story enough to continue playing.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Well, that was long, but pretty fun! I hope these answers suffice! Keep the questions coming!

#rain world #asks: scavworld's rain world questionnaire #iterator #five pebbles #rw fp #quetzalli's thoughts #quetzalli answers #inbox

[riddle-me-ri]

Can I please get a spicy fic about Secret Six Mad Hatter, biting A/n to mark them during a um cock warming **ahem** tea party. (Don't judge me lol)

a/n: anon I am the LAST person to be judging anyone about anything lmao i’m so mad I couldn’t come up with a clever title for this rip. Also also, sorry to tease at the end. I’m trying to challenge myself to write shorter (a.k.a not 1k word) fics lmao

Content Warning: explicit sexual content, cock warming, sensation play, drink/tea play? and biting.

Word Count: 513

Secret Six Mad Hatter x Reader - Setting the Table

This was not what you had in mind when Jervis invited you over for tea. 

You weren't exactly complaining…or at least not as much as you could be considering he hasn't moved.

You laid bent over the round table. The white colored table cloth strongly clashed against your naked form–highlighting your dirty deed somehow. 

Your arms were bound behind your back by some thick ribbon like material. Your back was currently being occupied by a teacup and it's saucer was perfectly balanced along your spine. 

Jervis was behind you with his cock fully sheathed inside you. 

Absolutely zero signs of him moving. 

Jervis hummed along behind you, not missing a beat as if this was a totally typical tea time. 

You desperately wanted to buck your hips into his, feel some kind of friction and build some kind of tension. 

Jervis chuckled giddily behind you. "Ah, you're doing so well, my dear. I must say I'm impressed." 

His gloved index finger began trailing up your spine, slowly reaching up to the tea cup. The sensation caused you to shiver slightly which made the tea cup sway some. 

"Oh, careful…don't want to make a mess…" 

You groaned internally. You couldn't be a bigger mess than what you are right now. 

The saucer wavered slightly on your spine as he deftly lifted the tea cup. 

Your breath instantly hitched when you felt a warm liquid pour onto your skin. 

Jervis softly gasped as your hole tightened around his cock as a result of the surprise sensation to your back. 

Jervis tsked. "Oh, now look at what you made me do!" 

You continued to not respond as he ordered you to do when this whole thing started. You weren't sure you could think of anything to say regardless, the warmth of the tea slowly spreading throughout your back as it continued to spill down the divots of your spine.  

"Hmm…what to do to make less of a mess of you…" Jervis pondered out loud. 

Your body slightly tensed up. Anxiously waiting for his next move and trying to prep your body not to move no matter what. 

However, you couldn't refrain from the short gasp you let out when you felt something warm and wet along your back. 

Jervis eagerly licked your skin, lapping up the tea before it could go to waste.

You arched your back as his buck teeth slightly grazed against your skin along with his tongue. 

If Jervis noticed these jolts from you, he didn't scold you for them. 

He snickered against your skin. "Perhaps next time you should just be my tea cup." 

You gulped some air. "J-Jervis–Ahh…" 

Shortly after you whimpered his name, Jervis bit down on your skin just a little below your shoulder blade. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as you tightened around him once more. 

The bite marks he was leaving made your skin flush a pretty red. You made a fine tea cup indeed.

"Now, now…” he nibbled along your back. “You were doing so well dear…surely you don't want the fun to end here."

#ri writes #secret six mad hatter x reader #secret six jervis tetch x reader #s6 mad hatter x reader #s6 jervis tetch x reader

[captaincryolicious]

✧ two make a team

03. it always goes like this

✧ scaramouche x gn!reader pokémon au series

✧ summary: you've hated each other for as long as you can remember, and you want nothing to do with the male you despise so much. but then you suddenly have to work together to achieve the goal you both chase. can you put the rivalry aside and make it happen? or will the hatred you share get the best of you?

✧  content utc | prev | masterpost | next

Today’s weather wasn’t all that nice, despite it being midsummer. Though the sun was still shining against the backdrop of the vast sky, it was partially cloudy and more often than not was the sun obscured from view, dropping shadows over Hearthome City. The temperature was pretty low in comparison to the days prior, which was mostly because of the wind that pulled through the streets. It caught your hair and set the surrounding trees and shrubs to rustle frantically, and you made your way to the local store with an irritated frown. You strongly disliked windy days, hated the way the not-so-gentle breeze toyed with your clothes and made you feel cold all over. 

You preferred staying inside, but you had so many things to do. You had to buy new pokéballs and potions at the poké mart since you were almost out of those, you had to train your pokémon – especially now that you signed up for an official tournament, you had to pick some berries for your pokémon – maybe go on a hunt to find Lycanroc’s favorite berry, to apologize for the experiment with Collei’s self-made snack. All with all, there were quite some things on your to-do list and the sooner you got them done, the sooner you could go inside again. 

Your visit to the mart was brief; you got what you needed and left again, the bag you carried on your back a little heavier now that it contained multiple pokéballs and various potions. You pondered for a moment. Bring your new-bought items home first or go straight to the surrounding wildlands to pick some berries? The weight you felt on your shoulders simplified your decision, and you made a quick stop at your house and dropped the stuff right behind the front door before heading out again. 

Armed with a basket instead of your backpack, you released Lucario from his pokéball to have him help you pick berries. With your companion by your side, you left the city and ventured into the surrounding greenlands, making your way to where you usually picked your berries. The wind was still blowing all around you, and you pursed your lips in annoyance. Oh, the things you did for your beloved pokémon. Conquering the wind you hated so much just to get them their favorite berries. 

You just had to fill the basket to the brim and then you’d stick around to have some training rounds with your pokémon right there in the greenfields. Maybe you’d encounter some interesting wild pokémon as well, something that would make your trip pretty much rewarding. All sorts of pokémon hid in the tall grass, so who knew what you would run into? 

Suddenly, Lucario came to a halt. You kept walking for a few steps before you noticed, but you too halted and turned around to face the canine pokémon. 

     “What’s the matter, Lucario?” you questioned. 

He narrowed his ruby eyes at you, shaking his head and pointing his paw into the direction of a few trees that obscured the berry shrubs from your view. Lucario was giving you a warning, but you had no idea what he meant. It was as if he was asking you not to go to the berry shrubs, which confused you. Lucario was strong. No matter what it was that he was warning you for, it was nothing the two of you couldn’t take on. 

     “Can I just check it out?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. 

The pokémon almost rolled his eyes at you, but he gave you a curt nod regardless. You approached the trees, hiding behind one of the trunks that gave you a good view on the berry shrubs. At first you saw nothing out of the ordinary, but then your heart stilled when you laid eyes on a familiar figure.

Kunikuzushi was there.

From the looks of it, he was there with the same goal as you; picking berries for his pokémon. Speaking of his pokémon, he had them all released from their pokéball and they darted around him happily. You saw his entire team gathered around their trainer. There were Haunter and Mimikyu, his ghost companions. Torracat was dozing off in the sparse rays of sunshine that occasionally filtered through the deck of clouds. Minun was helping your rival pick berries and Absol was just standing there, as if he had no interest in the others’ activities. 

And then there was the sixth pokémon of his team.

Smiling happily, his Oddish sat atop his head, settled comfortably between strands of violet hair that were pushed in every direction under the wind’s velocity. The little pokémon kicked her feet happily every time Kunikuzushi held up a small berry piece for her to eat, only to struggle to keep her balance on his head right after. 

He turned around to hand a berry to Absol, and you caught a glimpse of his face. He looked so carefree in that very moment, the harsh mask he often wore dissolved for a major part. You couldn’t deny the fact that your heart skipped a beat, but you blamed it on the surprise of seeing him like that. You only ever saw him with a nasty scowl on his features, and this was something entirely different. 

A small aww fell off your lips unwillingly, and you only noticed the small sound of awe when Lucario gave you a look. You quickly shook a head in a frantic manner. No no no! That didn’t really happen! Okay, yes, the Oddish on top of his head was adorable but his stupid face had to ruin the picture. No way in Hell you would ever call Kunikuzushi adorable. Your pokémon totally misunderstood. 

You couldn’t stand to watch any longer, pushing yourself away from the tree and stepping into the small clearing. Absol was the first to notice you, and he made a sound to alert his trainer. 

     “Leave some berries for me, will you?” you said icily as Kunikuzushi turned around. 

The stone mask instantly returned when his violet eyes found you. The male glowered at you, his entire carefree demeanor vanishing like snow underneath the sun. Even his Oddish’ smile faltered, alerted by the sudden shift in the mood of her trainer. You walked closer, ignoring the way Absol gave you a warning look. Next to you, Lucario took his bone. Much like you and Kunikuzushi, Absol and Lucario had their own rivalry going on. 

     “Go look somewhere else,” Kunikuzushi replied. “I’m here now and I don’t want you around.” 

     “This is a public area, you dipshit. You have no right to send me away,” you spat, scrunching up your nose. “Though I also don’t want you around.” 

     “Then leave,” your rival shrugged. “It’s that easy.”  

     “Want to battle it out? The loser has to leave,” you suggested, your hand already flying to your belt. 

     “No thanks, just let me pick berries in peace for damn once,” Kunikuzushi scowled, kicking his foot against the basket on the grass softly. “Or is that too much to ask?” 

     “It isn’t,” you growled. “Just leave a few berries for me, then. Or I’ll have to walk for another thirty minutes to reach the next spot.” 

     “Do I look like I care?” the male asked. “Go walk for thirty minutes and leave me alone.” 

You let out a shaky breath, thrumming with frustration and irritation. The wind had already brought a bad mood upon you, and this was making it many times worse. You absolutely hated his arrogant guts. Why was he being so difficult when all you asked was for him to leave a few berries behind? It was no big deal at all, and he was probably acting up only to taunt you. You knew you shouldn’t fall for it, but at the same time you couldn’t really help it. So often did he lay out bait, and you always bit. 

     “I’ll have Lucario whack you a concussion with his bone,” you threatened, but Kunikuzushi only snorted.

     “He won’t,” he simply said.

You glanced at Lucario, and the pokémon gave you a very clear and meaningful look in return. He’s right, I won’t, it said. You thoroughly wondered, whose side was he on? Okay, he was just beyond done with the petty rivalry you two had going on and refused to partake in it, but the least he could do was help you out, right? You silently weighed your options. It was widely frowned upon to use a pokémon’s move against humans so as much as you would’ve loved to thunderbolt the heck out him, you decided not to do so. But that left you with very little to do, aside from surrender and leave. 

How humiliating. 

     “Look, Y/N,” he said, speaking your name as if it was poison to him. The wind threw his bangs as curtains afore his violet gaze, and he looked at you darkly. “You’re everywhere. You’re there when I train my pokémon, you’re there when I stock up on supplies in the store, you’re there when I pick berries outside of town, and now you even signed up for the same tournament. You’re around whenever I do as much as breathe and I hate it.” 

     “You’re not all that special,” you sneered. “I have the same problem as you.” 

     “Then you should know all too well how much of a pain you are to me,” Kunikuzushi spat. “Do something good for once and leave me alone.” 

That was the final straw. Pursing your lips, you shot him your hardest glare you could muster before whirling around and leaving the clearing behind. You felt your heart hammering in your chest in sheer anger and frustration as you stomped away. Tears stung in the corners of your eyes, but you refused to release them. You weren’t going to cry because of that asshole, and not even tears or pure anger were allowed. Nothing happened, you were used to having him treat you like that and you treated him in the same way. But sometimes it kind of got to you, and this seemed to be one of those moments. 

Lucario softly patted your arm, and you flashed him a weak smile. 

On the inside you were boiling with unkempt emotions, all sorts of negativity and hatred swirling around like the stormy wind that blew through the wildlands. Despite your unwillingness, your feet dragged you along the sandy path away from Hearthome City. As much as you didn’t feel like going on a thirty-minute walk to obtain some berries, you also didn’t want to disappoint your pokémon. With the wind tousling your hair, you embarked on your trip, your every step rigid with annoyance. 

You felt humiliated and upset, but you channeled all those feelings into one thing; determination. Kunikuzushi was going down in the tournament. You felt bad for Aether and Collei, who would be dragged into your mess, but it was as it was. You had to beat your rival, no matter what. 

✧  taglist (send in an ask to be added/removed)

@nao-cchi @kunikame @anqxlluv @elysiasbae @yumirisan @sakiimeo @shizunxie @theglowfly @g0re-h0und @snowfinches @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @frzenhans

#genshin impact #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #the wanderer #scaramouche imagine #scaramouche imagines #kunikuzushi imagines #kunikuzushi imagine #two make a team

[soul-wanderer]

I’ve been pondering why Rafael and Nick make such an enticing pairing (after all, I wrote my first fic for them 7 years ago, and they still got me in an emotional chokehold after all those years, but I digress), and here’s a few thoughts:

- they’re both Latinos, which means they do share similar cultural backgrounds. But more importantly, pairing them up offers a kind of representation that’s still far and few between - even after all those years. While things are certainly progressing (slowly), it can still be a touchy subject to be Latino and (openly) gay, which makes for a lot of storytelling opportunities, especially in regard to overcoming stereotypes and offering healthy representation

- they also share a similar history in regard to their fathers. While Nick has been more concise about what type of man his father was/is, Rafael at the very least hints at it, and there’s no doubt he does not have any/many fond memories of him. This background also offers a common ground to develop their relationship from, especially if you add possible trauma as another element to these storylines

- They are polar opposites. But they’re really not. On the surface, we have Nick, who often lets his temperament and hands do the talking, while Rafael is usually more eloquent and refined when he feels strongly about certain situations. He tries very hard to be seen and acknowledged as a reputable D.A. and while he never forgets where he came from, he doesn’t want to be reduced to this. His temper always seems well managed on the surface, but it’s clear he’s just gotten pretty good at compartmentalizing while he’s on the job. Which brings us back to “they’re really not [polar opposites]”. They both care. A lot. They live for their jobs, and they live for the cause. Their execution simply differs. But at the end of the day, they both just want to do the right thing and want to prove that they worked hard and deserve the jobs they worked so hard for. So, they might disagree on the execution, but they can always agree on the cause

- Their needs are pretty balanced. No matter what dynamic you come up with for them in a relationship - it works. Because they can both be soft and in need of comfort/safety/reassurance, but they can also both be demanding/bossy/dominant. In private, Nick can easily be the exact opposite of who he is at work - just like Rafael. It’s easy for Nick to feel safe enough to be soft around Rafael, just like it’s easy-ish for Rafael to let his guards down in private and let go of his perfectionism and “always calm and collected” exterior. Which doesn’t mean that he won’t knock some sense into Nick if he has to. All in all, they might clash in a lot of ways, but they also balance each other out

- All of these elements work together beautifully. Because singularly, their relationship might not work out in the long run, but together, they both have a strong foundation with in depth understanding of where the other came from, while also having character traits that complement the other and that’s what makes their relationship so wonderfully multi-layered and interesting in the long run

#Law and Order SVU #Rafael Barba #Nick Amaro #Barmaro #they fight hard and love harder #I just have a few feelings ok #don't mind me #feel free to add to this list

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hey! I recently read your post on, ahem, 'Female Characters in BSD And Their Portrayals' (to paraphrase)

I thought it was really interesting actually!! Thank you for writing that!

Another point is how Yosano's quirk had gotten sexualized in the anime, whilst in the manga, it's much more eery? That was weird.

I had a question: How Is Dazai Sexist?

Not in a 'pRoVE iT to ME!!' manner, but a, 'i can genuinely see that and I'm curious about your perspective' manner!

I read No Longer Human about, two months ago? And Dazai Osamu, the author, had a niche perspective on women, I suppose. He humanized them, but also dismissed them, but also heavily related to them? Of course, with historical context it's probably the average view of the time.

But I'm genuinely curious!!

My “Female Characters in BSD And Their Portrayals”

Thank you for giving the post a read! I was low-key nervous when I posted it, I don't really like being the killjoy, so I found people's positive responses to it very reassuring (╥﹏╥)

About Yosano's ability being sexualized in the anime. I know right,,,, it's part of the bigger picture issue, it's nearly impossible to find anime without fanservice. The difference in female portrayal between the bsd manga and anime is actually something very interesting to ponder on, because they're actually quite different: the manga is sexist, but it never visually sexualizes its female character (the Gaiden manga being an exception). The anime is more low-key in the blatant sexism, but there's female fanservice that the manga lacks that... Idk feels almost a given at this point, like animation studios just CAN'T not do it (I don't even know what to say? Something something *through gritted tits* 57th prime minister of Japan Shinzo Abe). On a different note, this ask came as some sort of epiphany for me because it made me realize that the reason there's so many people missing on the sexism in bsd which leaves me so often baffled is because people probably reason fanservice = sexism → lack of fanservice = lack of sexism, but it really doesn't have to work that way? Of course fanservice is for the vast majority sexist because more often than not it comes with the objectification of female body, but I wouldn't say there's a direct correlation between the two things: I hope I was exhaustive enough on why bsd is sexist although it never sexualizes its female characters, and I think same can be said for the other way round? Kill la Kill is my favorite anime of them all and the most female empowering anime (and overall media??? Idk I love klk with everything I've got) I've ever seen, but it'd definitely be a wide stretch to say it lacks fanservice.

On why I said Dazai is sexist: for one, I trust Chuuya's word

This is a joke, but funny enough, that's exactly the panel I was thinking about when writing the post– I was negatively surprised by how a main character could reportedly be called womanizer, and that is just kind of there, like being sexist was just another weird little characteristic of bandage man, nothing strange there. You see the problem here?

I remember when I watched the bsd anime for the first time, I used to think Dazai was sexist a lot– but in retrospect, I don't have that much a strong opinion on the matter anymore. When I watched it, it would bother me how Dazai would objectify women a lot, using them as mindless pawns even more of how he already does with every character he encounters; it would bother me how he's so fixated on committing a double suicide with a beautiful woman, like... You do realize that is wishing for another person, and that person needing to be a woman specifically, to die, right? Not to mention the “beautiful” part only adds to the objectification if you ask me. But all taken into account, I don't feel for it as strongly as I used to– don't get me wrong, it's still disturbing, but I don't think it's an issue of Dazai specifically as much of the work in its entirety having a fucked up view of women. It hit me today rewatching the bit at the end of episode 5, Dazai explaining Ranpo's deductions to Atsushi: “she wasn't dressed for work, she had no make-up on”. Now, if you say anything like this to me irl, I WILL punch you in the face. But can you sense how it doesn't really come from Dazai in particular and is more expression of an overall worldview of women that necessary transpires through the characters, an underlying pattern I couldn't really perceive on my first time watching the anime? So, I feel like it's less of a case of “Dazai being sexist” than it is of “Dazai is a character with a lot of lines in a fundamentally sexist franchise”. The point isn't about Dazai's being sexist, because ALL the characters are in a way or the other, but about the author writing them as such; that's what I meant by saying “Dazai is openly sexist and it’s just kind of there never to be addressed”– he's reportedly sexist IN CANON, the thing is it's never portrayed as something strange or worth to be addressed.

#I'm not familiar with author Dazai's works so I'll trust your word on that! #osamu dazai #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #people asks me stuff #This ask kinda flatters me‚ can you believe someone was interested enough in what I said they'd ask me for clarification/elaboration ( ꈍᴗꈍ) #This was very sweet ahah thank you Op #Besides the nurse / Dazai scene from chapter 50. eh.

[spiderfreedom]

unfortunately we cannot ignore the circumstances of our birth

Catherine MacKinnon has this quote, which I've been pondering for a minute:

Much of the current debate has centered on (endlessly obsessed over, actually) whether trans women are women. Honestly, seeing “women” as a turf to be defended, as opposed to a set of imperatives and limitations to be criticized, challenged, changed, or transcended, has been pretty startling. One might think that trans women—assigned male at birth, leaving masculinity behind, drawn to and embracing womanhood for themselves—would be welcomed. 

I don't see "woman" as a "turf" to be defended. It is a word that has been used up until now to refer to a group of human beings that are female, and within feminism it is especially important because it turns out being female has a massive impact on your quality of life. 'female' is a biological descriptor, just like having astigmatism, or hyperflexible joints, or having the DNA of homo sapiens. Were it not for the oppression female humans face, it would be merely a trivia about my own life, only relevant for medical treatment, sexual activity, and reproduction. Instead, medical treatment for my sex is underresearched, and our sexual activity and reproductive capacities are coerced for the pleasure and use of society, among other indignities we suffer. For this reason, many women have banded together under the label of feminism to try to change things for this group that has been so globally and historically oppressed because of our bodies.

Some people are dysphoric about their bodies and try to change them to alleviate their psychological pain. Some people feel very strongly that they identify with a gender role. Some people have explanations of gender that make no sense to me but seem to motivate them very strongly. Some people spend years trying to change how they look to the extent that they are confused for another sex on a daily basis. None of these experiences are inherently harmful. And we can, to an extent, accommodate these people in our language, because these people shouldn't be mocked or denigrated for having unusual gender experiences. But just as I, unfortunately, cannot escape the circumstances of my birth, neither can them. And trans women occupy a particular dynamic in moving from a more powerful social category ("man") to a lower social category ("woman"). MacKinnon believes this is proof of good intentions and so they ought to be welcomed, no further questions.

Let's explore that topic. We'll cover three themes - race, class, and nationality.

race

Should we apply the same flexibility and welcome to Rachel Dolezal, a white woman who left her white identity behind, changed her name, learned to work with Black hair and is now a hairdresser for primarily Black women, who joined the NAACP? A woman who lost everything when her whiteness was outed? Who continues to try to integrate into the Black community? Should she be welcomed as a Black woman, because she passes as Black to some people and because she's part of a Black community and views herself as Black? Does the fact that she has raised Black children make a difference?

Most of us would say no, because the fact of the matter is she has no recent African ancestry in the slightest, and within the US that is the way we define "Black". But some Black people on her instagram think that what she's doing is OK - after all, she's worked so hard to appreciate and be a part of Black culture.

One could make the argument that being Black is not just about having relatively recent African heritage, but about participating in and identifying with Black culture, just as some people argue being a woman is about identifying with norms of womanhood, right? Yet most Black people find Dolezal's actions offensive and her integration irrelevant, because if she wanted to tomorrow, she could always go back to living as a white woman. Whether she wants to or not is irrelevant. Clearly she doesn't want to! But she has the option, always, to return to whiteness, and that is an option denied to Black people.

class

Let's try another example: why do people hate rich people who 'slum' so much? I mean, a rich person can literally lose their money and become poor! Or choose to live in a trailer park, and experience the same shitty amenities the locals experience. Despite this, merely being raised in the upper class, even if you don't have money anymore, or are choosing to live alongside working class people, gets you looked at askance by many (not all). Why... because being born into poverty isn't something you can replicate. Even though there is no question that you can objectively go from having money to not having money, it turns out the circumstances of your birth are, in fact, very relevant!

and if you were raised middle or upper class, you also probably have knowledge about class, finance, networking, etc. that can help you get out of that situation faster than your comrade who weren't raised like that. even if two situations appear to be the same (we both don't have money and live in the same part of town!), the past continues to influence the present.

nationality

Finally, we'll consider nationality, which like transition, also has a legal process that allows you to change which category you are legally viewed as. You can be an American born in the US who gives up your American citizenship to live in Indonesia and become involved in Indonesian politics and fight for the local people. Maybe your former American neighbors will consider you a traitor. American ex-pats may think you're a menace.

But some people in your country will never consider you integrated, because of where you came from. You had the choice to leave your American birth behind, they do not have the choice to leave their birth behind. Once again, you can objectively become an Indonesian citizen as an American, live there for ten years, give up American citizenship, and have internationally recognized Indonesian citizenship. But your birth will always distinguish you from the people born there.

in conclusion

Are these all examples of 'turf defending' or gatekeeping? Are working class people 'gatekeeping' poverty from upper-middle class people who live in a trailer? Are Indonesians 'gatekeeping' being Indonesian from Americans? Are Black people 'gatekeeping' Black culture from Rachel Dolezal? Does it matter that not all people agree within these groups about what the correct gate to keep is? (this will be explored in a future post - groups are not homogenous in who they accept as members)

To return to MacKinnon's question, now that we've looked at comparisons with race, nationality, and poverty (the latter two being things that you can objectively change), do you understand why some people believe that the circumstances of one's birth when moving from a position of more power to a position of less power do remain relevant? Do you understand why people may be suspicious when this happens? Do you understand why some people may welcome you, but still not consider you and them to be the same thing?

Do you understand that this is not an attack on the other person's very 'existence', not a 'turf war', but merely a group that has been oppressed on a specific axis from birth wanting to retain that distinction because it is relevant and important?

Do you recognize that it is possible to change your life, as the American and the rich person did, but also possible to acknowledge the difference between the people you're trying to integrate with and yourself? You are not the enemy, but neither is the oppressed group you are trying to integrate with. Recognizing and navigating this tension is important. Without recognizing and resolving the tension between those of us forced by birth into this class and those who try to enter this class due to dysphoria or identification or psychology, feminism will continue to circle this drain and no progress will be made for either of us.

#mypost #radical feminism #feminism

[biff-adventurer]

FFxivWrite2023 Prompt #24: Extra Credit - Kingdom Hearts (Video Games Live)

lol be not deceived - i name these after the songs i listen to while writing them

He hadn’t had time to stop and think about it. These days, during a suspicious period of peace, he only had time. Hopping with the Loporrits on the Moon distracted him only temporarily. Running around with Zhloe at the orphanage, collecting stories for Khloe’s journals, snapping up every bill that crossed the huntboard–it merely delayed the inevitable. With his bride in his arms at night, while the tantou slept in a basket full of stuffed dolls exactly their size, the entire world was asleep but him. And his mind wished to fill the silence with thoughts.

Living gods in an illusory realm. All his life, he had been raised on the stories. He wavered in his faith all his life. Hydaelyn, he felt within his soul. He’d heard Her voice enough to know Her to be true. He had never worshipped Her either–but belief in Her existence had never been a question. He did not pray to her, nor put offerings at an idol of hers, nor prostrate himself before her. She was the heart of the Star; and anyone asking for his help so earnestly, he was willing to answer. That was a part of life and living, after all: holding out one’s hand and waiting to understand the one who takes hold of it.

Thunder and fire he greeted as he’d greet most gods-made-real. He did not know why they existed. The threats they made were reason enough to do battle, and wondrous battles they were. He and his moon blade danced amid the crackling lightning and the smoldering winds. Adventurers of all manner fought beside him, friends and strangers alike. It was a familiar thrill and he need not think beyond it. These were gods, but people, too. Anyroad, in the end, they hadn’t wished any real harm at all.

His oblivious attitude changed when he came face to face with Her. Mary and Da and his brothers believed strongly in Her compassion. The Matron, with hair gold as wheat and a form as soft as the soils, stood before him. She looked exactly as she should’ve. The whole situation screamed primal at him–for She’d taken the form that his people believed Her to take. He did not want to feel anger or betrayal to see her there in the flesh. She’d taken care of his father’s farm, just as she was asked every year. Even through the drought, there had always been the slimmest of hopes and opportunities to get by. She’d protected them. 

Her smile disarmed him by the power of its kindness. He wondered if She’d heard him and wept, or whether She’d ever wanted to help. Or maybe She hadn’t heard. She wished him no harm; the gentle song of her voice told him that. There were more important troubles in the world than a young boy’s loneliness. No god need answer a quibble like that.

Still, he lie awake at night pondering his folly. He believed wholeheartedly in the determination of people to fulfill their needs, wants and dreams. It was no different with him. Whether or not gods truly existed omnipotently didn’t really matter when it came to that. And yet, and yet. He was stuck between a memory and a feeling. The wounds on his heart reminded him constantly of the young lad who struggled to find togetherness with his own family. The wonder in his soul, wild with love for the passions of these magical entities, prevented him from aiming his malice at the Twelve. The past that had followed him into the present was his own monster, at any rate. In the end, it was pointless to ponder the stakes and priorities of the gods. He knew where the blame for his pain truly lay. It was just too painful a betrayal to acknowledge.

#FFxivWrite2023 #gwenny writes

[whydontwebegin]

sadstuck ghosts in MY homestuck au? more likely than you think!

no i just wanted to write the sadstuck ghosts and now they're actually marginally important -davekat (alpha timeline), davejade & davejadekat (sadstuck ghosts)

tw for referenced past character death (game over)

There’s a certain way things feel when you feel so strongly for someone that they are a key part of your world and then everything goes…wrong.

Karkat had become intimately acquainted with the experience over time. Next to him, Dave muttered and Karkat didn’t even bother trying to figure out what he was going on about. He’d gotten used to Dave’s antics long, long ago.

He looked to the hooded figure nearby and frowned. Knees pulled up to his chest, claws tapping out an unheard rhythm against his pants. He hadn’t said anything in a while, Karkat realized.

It was strange, he thought, on the edge of eternity. Even to Dave, time was nebulous at best. And Dave’s aspect was time. But even Jade couldn’t keep track of space here, either, any more than Kanaya could. So, he supposed, was the way of the Furthest Ring. Not like he hadn’t already known that, after three years on the meteor, passing through dream bubble after dream bubble. But he could still ponder the nature of it all regardless, now that he was a ghost.

A ghost did spend more time here than a living individual, after all.

Dirk stood abruptly and Dave cut off with a sigh. Karkat remembered when Dave couldn’t decide if he wanted to stay between him and Dirk or keep Karkat between them instead. It felt like centuries ago. Maybe it was.

Being dead wasn’t so bad anymore, though. He rarely thought about the absence of John, and neither Jake nor Jane commented on Roxy’s disappearance. No matter how hard they had searched in the beginning, they’d never found them.

Terezi cleared her throat. “Hey, stranger. We’re leaving.”

Their hooded companion, not really a stranger at all, gave a dismissive wave. He’d probably join them once everyone was ready to go. He spent a lot of time staring at the horizon of every bubble, watching the decay fester before it was inevitably wiped away. Karkat wondered why, sometimes. Other times, he thought he understood. Really, he doubted he knew at all. 

“Hey. Karkles. What’cha thinkin’?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Dave frowned but acquiesced. Jade squeezed his hand where their fingers were threaded together and Karkat pretended he didn’t want to do the same. Maybe one day, he’d get the chance. They had eternity, after all. One day he’d get the nerve to confess his feelings, and until then he would relish in the times Dave and Jade would drag him back from the memories of Gamzee’s smile over him as his body melted away. It was nice to be pressed between them, he thought. Peaceful.

Not much had been peaceful in his life. The meteor had been, in a way, although laced with dread and unease near the end. But here, now, he was safe. He was home.

–

“Do you think I’ll ever find a way back home?”

Karkat looked up from where Jade was toying with his claws and frowned. “What?”

Red eyes peeked out from underneath the hood, searching. “Do you think,” their companion said again, “that I will find a way back home?”

Dave was uncomfortably silent where his back was pressed to Karkat’s. Jade’s hands stilled around his own. 

“Yeah,” Jade said after a long, uncomfortable moment where Karkat watched his friends exchange looks of uncertainty. “Yeah, I think you will. And I think your friends will welcome you back with open arms.”

Karkat watched his own face twist into something near-wistful.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

Karkat’s heart ached for him, it did. He sat here, albeit dead, with the people he loved. His alpha self sat here, alive, yet separated.

Fate was a cruel thing, he thought.

#homestuck #dave strider #karkat vantas #jade harley #davekat #davejade #davejadekat #sadstuck ghosts #decay au #writing #if you actually thought karkat was dead #well boy do i have news for you

[im-no-jedi]

I’ve been pondering why writing has gotten so difficult for me over the past few months, and I think I can break it down into several factors at this point

the first (and potentially biggest reason) is definitely burnout. or I guess betrayal. idk what term to use. but TBB season 2 literally stomped out the drive and passion I previously had while writing MLWTBB. not only did I become consumed with new ideas from all the new content, but Plan 99 straight up crushed me to the point where it’s been hard to return to the series in general. I used to rewatch an episode of the show at least once or twice a week. I rewatched the first season at least 7-8 times. the show was my entire life, literally. and now… I can honestly say, I haven’t rewatched most of season 2. outside of the first five episodes, “Retrieval”, and “Pabu”, I haven’t rewatched any other episodes. I’ve rewatched certain scenes for gif purposes, but that’s it. quite sad, really. I’m disappointed in myself 😞

another reason is loss of a proofreader for my stories. not gonna get into it, but there's currently only (1) person in the entire world who I trust to proofread my work, and they basically wanted a break from the position. and that hurt me more than I thought it would. I had someone regularly reading my stories and giving me feedback, which I needed. not because I had a ton of errors (although sometimes that's true LOL), but because I had a regular reader. someone who was frequently commenting and discussing my stories with me. and I sorely need that. as far as I know, I don't have any regular readers. I've discussed elements of my stories with other friends but... it's not the same. it's like infodumping about a TV show to someone who's never seen it. sure, I'm getting the info out, but when the other person has seen the content too, it's a much more satisfying feeling. I very much desire both validation and interaction in regard to my stories. I've gotten a few nice comments on some of my work before, but... nothing regular. I don't have any "fans" or anything like that. and... it genuinely sucks 💔

which leads me into my next point. which is something I used to tell myself, and I need to start telling myself again. at the end of the day, nobody will ever be as big of a fan of my stories as myself. I originally wrote MLWTBB for me and me exclusively. I literally only started sharing it publicly because Skylar asked LOL. it's easily become one of the highest achievements of my life, and it's nowhere near finished yet. I realized I started becoming more self-conscious about how I write since posting the series publicly, and I can see it in how I currently write compared to back then. that needs to stop. I'm never gonna get anything finished with that mentality. so I seriously need to adjust my mentality about it. I need to go back to August 2021 when I first started writing it and tell myself "idc if anyone else in the world sees this, I'm writing this story for me". so while I strongly desire (and in some cases, need) the engagement and validation from others... nobody else's opinion matters more than my own. and I too often forget that...

so how do I fix all this? well, the last point is pretty self-explanatory. the solution for that is simply to just write. doesn't matter if the quality is "good enough", I just need to get these dadgum stories out of my head and into concrete words. I think that'll help with the first point as well. writing out more of my interpretations of the characters I hold so dear should help deter from any negative thoughts about the current state of the canon (and hold me off until season 3 comes LOL). as for the middle point, I don't think there's much I can do about that, at least when it comes to MLWTBB. however, I've been planning on opening writing requests for literally weeks now, and I think now might be the time to actually do it. that way, I can at least get that feeling of validation for my writing that I so desperately desire.

one other point I think I need to address is entirely on my part, and it's in relation to the engagement factor. I fully acknowledge that more often than not, engagement on fiction is a two-way street. several of my friends and followers are writers themselves, and I see all the content they put out. but to be perfectly honest, I'm more of a writer than a reader. I'm extremely picky about all the content I consume, which means I don't often have the capacity to engage with fanfiction, no matter who's written it. heck, Ham's had a story I've been meaning to read for months now, and I just haven't ever been able to bring myself to doing it. it's nothing personal!! whoever the author is has literally nothing to do with whether or not I engage with something!! I just honestly, really and truly, am not much of a reader. I enjoy rereading my own stuff... and that's about it. although, I've been gifted stories before, and OMG I treasure those so much. but I think that's because those stories were written for me, as a gift, and all gifts are precious to me. so I guess I need to accept the fact that I probably won't get much engagement on my work simply because I don't engage with others. and that's ok. I'm not hurting anyone by doing this (although if this is a problem for you, please let me know, I don't wanna unintentionally insult or hurt anyone 🥺). and maybe someday, I'll actually get the bug up my butt to finally read the things I promised to read haha

so! all this to say, an attempt will be made to relight the writing spark within me so I can continue my beloved MLWTBB and potentially write some fun stuff for the people who request something from me. I've actually already written a thing for a friend as a test for my upcoming requests, and I can't wait to share that one 😁

writers block be damned!! I'm going to write and continue to write until my brain stops functioning. deal with it, Palpatine 😤

#this is probably so incoherent sdmfjgkfdjs #but this place has been my diary for years and I ain't gonna stop using it now #anyway writing requests coming soon!! for real!!! #might even make the post later tonight!! #yay!!! #\o/ #MLWTBB chatter

[natura-est-sacellum]

For some reason, this time of year always draws me to God more than any season. Maybe it's all the Christmas songs, particularly the religious ones like Silent Night or God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (which is actually my very favorite non-secular Christmas song) bringing a bit of Christian imagery to the mundane. You're grocery shopping, eating pancakes at Perkins, getting your oil changed, doesn't matter, there's a Christmas song playing and something in the air shifts whenever a religious one comes on. I can't describe it.

Someone I follow posted some lyrics from different hymns and whatnot, but the first one was the opening verse from O Holy Night:

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

'Til He appeared, and the soul felt it's worth...

I have often thought about this verse, particularly the "soul felt its worth" bit, even in the deepest of my pagan days. Something about that sentiment carried an extra weight that could be felt by someone who had never read the Bible and hadn't gone to church or listened to a sermon since I was like 10.

So often, people bring up eternal damnation as a way to try to scare people into believing in God. But I can honestly say that simple lyric "long lay the world in sin and error pining, til He appeared, and the soul felt it's worth" did more to turn my heart back toward God than any fire and brimstone rhetoric.

Not that I ever hated God, don't be mistaken. I actually thought God hated me, or at the very least, strongly disapproved of my life choices. Being a dedicated pagan from about age 8, but with definite pagan ideals and concepts–such as ancestor veneration and reincarnation–incorporated into my belief system from my earliest contemplations on matters such as death, I thought I was an outcast...though I didn't know why I felt that way at the time.

Several years later, I had gone through so many books on paganism, desperate to quell this hollow feeling I had on a soul deep level, this longing to belong with no respite, only to come up not only empty-handed, but also angrier and angrier. I had hoped that some book–any book!–would give me further insight. But everything just became progressively dumber and dumber and more and more infuriatingly so. And every Christmas season, when angels are everywhere and bells are tolling and a choir can be heard inside and outside of every store singing "come and behold Him, born the king of angels", and people are unusually kind and charitable...there's something there. A filling to that hollow feeling.

Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't the Redemption of Bee, I'm not a prodigal daughter. Not entirely, anyway. But, after learning more about God and Jesus, and the full context of Jesus' time on the cross and what He did for us (going literally to Hell and back to save all of humanity from our sins is frickin metal, I don't care who you are), and reading Genesis and seeing exactly how much love God has for us, and how well-meaning and genuine He is (don't blame me, I kinda bought into some atheistic rhetoric about how cruel God is in my teens), the non-secular Christmas songs don't make me cringe anymore. Heck, Christian rock doesn't make me cringe anymore (Crowder's Crushing Snakes is a banger, change my mind).

But what used to make me ponder about Things when I was a pagan, the line "and the soul felt it's worth", now really struck a chord with me. To the point where contemplating the full scope of that simple little line inexplicably brings me to tears. On my journey, winding though it may be, I didn't listen to preachers or priests or anything like that. I mean, I tried to, and only really liked Father Mike Schmitz's approach to talking about things. But mostly, and feel free to judge me for this, I listened to a lot of Andrew Klavan and his musings about God and Jesus and the meaning of life and death and questions of morality. Say whatever you will about him, I found a lot of his takes very comforting, like talking to your father about God. Because I never really talked to my dad about God, except when I came out as pagan to him.

One thing Andrew Klavan talks about a lot in regards to Christianity, is that God is forgiving. God is loving. Yes, sometimes he can be cruel, but that's usually to teach a lesson that's falling on deaf ears, like your father taking away a toy as a child because you disobeyed him. But, one thing he especially highlights, is that God loves you. It doesn't matter if you hate Him, if you blame Him for every little bad thing in your life, He loves you and He forgives you. And should you ever find your way back to God, he will embrace you with open arms and say "welcome home". Even if you've sinned. Jesus ate with the sinners, and counted them more dearly than the Pharisees.

In some ways, my period of paganism felt like the period before Christ's birth. I waited for a very long time, in sin and error, pining for that feeling of belonging, of worth, of acceptance, of order, of gratitude. Of sheer unconditional love. And I waited and waited, until God and Christ kind of nudged their way into my psyche, and then into my life. And the soul felt it's worth. My existence wasn't meaningless, my life has a purpose, and no purpose is too small. I was hopeful, I rejoiced, a new and glorious morn broke. I didn't hate myself anymore, and realized God never hated me. How can I go forward not completely revitalized by that notion? That concept that even when all seems lost and hopeless, there is always hope.

“Turn your face from the green world, and look where all seems barren and cold!” said Gandalf. Then Aragorn turned, and there was a stony slope behind him running down from the skirts of the snow; and as he looked he was aware that alone there in the waste a growing thing stood. And he climbed to it, and saw that out of the very edge of the snow there sprang a sapling tree no more than three foot high. Already it had put forth young leaves long and shapely, dark above and silver beneath, and upon its slender crown it bore one small cluster of flowers whose white petals shone like the sunlit snow.

#Sorry this was long #And probably stupid and someone will get offended or think I'm being pretentious #That wasn't my intent #I just had a lot of thoughts about that lyric from O Holy Night that I had rattling around my head for some time #That I felt I needed to share

[lifeofkaze]

In the Balance - Chapter 1

Rowan’s Reprise

Read the next chapter here. You can find all the chapters of this series (and some more) here.

“Lizzie?”

Lizzie sighed happily. The wind was whipping through her hair and the sun was burning hot on her skin. She leaned forward on her broomstick, picking up speed. The rush of adrenaline she felt as her surroundings were beginning to blur was exhilarating. 

“Lizzie!”

Orion was flying in front of her. Just a little closer and she would be able to catch him. The light of the sun was reflecting off his dark hair and Lizzie knew it would be warm to her touch. She just needed to fly faster, a little bit faster.

“Lizzie, wake up!”

With a jolt, Lizzie woke from her dream. It took her a moment to remember where she was. The air in Professor Binns’ classroom was stuffy and warm, the light filtering in from the open windows carrying with it the warmth of the day outside. A slight breeze was wafting into the room, caressing her cheek. 

Reluctantly, Lizzie sat up straight; she must have fallen asleep halfway through the lecture on the Statue of Secrecy. She half expected Rowan to berate her for not paying proper attention but much to her surprise, Rowan wasn’t invested in today’s lesson at all; with a flustered look on her face, she leaned closer to Lizzie, whispering urgently.

“He’s doing it again!” 

Lizzie was at a loss of what Rowan was talking about. “Who is doing what again?”

“Barnaby Lee. He’s looking over here all the time. I counted twenty-four times in the last half hour.” 

“Alright, McNully,” Lizzie muttered under her breath. “We’re sitting next to the window, maybe that’s what he’s been looking at?” 

Rowan shook her head. “No, he’s always looking in our direction these days, no matter where we are sitting.” She gave Lizzie a strange look. “I think he’s fancying you.” 

“He what?!” 

Several heads shot around to Lizzie, including the translucent one of Professor Binns. 

“You heard that correctly, Miss Jameson. The Minister of Magic’s decision was rash and - dare I say it - foolish. I appreciate your enthusiasm. Five points to Hufflepuff.” 

Blushing in embarrassment, Lizzie waited until Professor Binns had returned to his monotone lecturing before she turned to Rowan again. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said, more quietly this time. “Barnaby would never fancy me. I do have a boyfriend, after all.” 

“I know,” Rowan replied wryly. “Trust me, everyone knows.” 

Lizzie bit her lip as her bad conscience stirred. She and Orion had been a couple for a while now and, as far as Lizzie could tell, Rowan was fine with it. Considering all the fighting that had gone down between them because of Orion in the past year, however, Lizzie’s relationship still was a topic they were generally trying to avoid. 

“My point exactly,” she agreed anyway. “Everyone knows and so does Barnaby. Why would he fancy me if I’m not even available?”

“It’s not like your feelings are something you can control.” 

The look of melancholy on Rowan’s face made Lizzie want to say something, but before she got the chance, she was again interrupted by Professor Binns. 

“Miss Khanna and Miss Jameson, if you have some commentary to add to the third article of the Statue of Secrecy, please share it with the rest of us. If not, I strongly encourage you to resume your discussion after class.”

Sharing a look and a barely perceptible shrug, Rowan returned her attention to her notes, leaving Lizzie to ponder about what she had said about Barnaby. After their class was over, Rowan hurried off to get herself a seat close to the window in the stuffy Divination classroom. Knowing Barnaby was taking Divination to N.E.W.T level as well made Lizzie regret dropping it for the first time since her pathetic O.W.L. exam. 

She was impatient for her Care of Magical Creatures class to be over so she could catch up with Rowan at lunch. But when she arrived at the already packed Hufflepuff table, Rowan wasn’t there. 

“I don’t remember Rowan ever being late. I wonder what kept her,” Lizzie thought out loud while helping herself to some vegetables.

“We’re about to find out,” Tonks said with a mouth full of potatoes, pointing at the entrance of the Great Hall. She swallowed, struggling for a moment with the sheer amount of food she had stuffed into her cheeks. She tried again, a lot clearer this time. “Blimey, she looks like she’s seen the Bloody Baron without his wig!”

Tonks was right. Rowan was walking up to them looking flustered, constantly adjusting the stack of books she was carrying under her arm. She was staring at her feet and her glasses kept sliding down to the tip of her nose. She didn’t say a word when she sat down next to Lizzie, still clutching her books tightly to her chest.

“Rowan, are you alright?” Penny asked tentatively after everyone had waited for Rowan to say something. Rowan blinked, as if only now realising that all of her friends were staring at her.

“He asked me out,” she said flatly.

“What?”

“Who?”

“When?”

“Why?” 

Lizzie kicked Skye beneath the table for the last question. Realising how it must have come across, Skye cleared her throat, colour rising to her freckled cheeks.

“What I mean is, you can’t pull off a Parkin’s Pincer before you can do a proper Blatching,” she said matter-of-factly. When everyone stared at her in confusion, she clarified, “Start at the beginning, maybe?” 

Rowan finally put her books down and exchanged them for a piece of bread she was reducing to crumbs in a matter of seconds.

“Remember how I said Barnaby was always looking at us?” she said to Lizzie. “He did it again, in Divination. Only that you weren’t there, obviously. He must have seen me looking back because he… he smiled at me.” Rowan reached for a new slice of bread, the first one lying in a messy pile on her plate, but Penny had moved the basket out of her reach. “When class was over he caught me by the ladder.” She stopped talking, now wringing her napkin between her hands.

“And then?” Penny asked eagerly.

“He asked me out.” 

“I knew it!” Penny exclaimed, raising her arms above her head in triumph. Seeing that she had drawn the attention of the people surrounding them, she quickly lowered her voice again. “That’s brilliant news, Rowan! It was about time Barnaby plucked up the courage to ask you out.”

Rowan wasn’t the only one looking at her with wide eyes. “You knew?” 

“Wasn’t it ever so obvious?” Penny giggled. “Everyone knows Barnaby has the biggest crush on Rowan.” When she saw her friends exchanging glances, she looked confused. “Almost everyone, it seems.”

“But what am I supposed to do now?” Rowan sighed. “I never had a date before.”

“Stick to Jameson and Haywood, they can tell you all about dating... and the other stuff, as well,” Skye grinned, earning herself another kick from Lizzie.

“What did you say?” Lizzie asked, graciously ignoring Skye’s dark look and Tonk’s sniggering.

Rowan pushed her glasses up her nose. “I suggested we could study together.” 

Tonks guffawed while Penny sighed in deep resignation; the sound seemed to come from the bottom of her heart. 

“It’s a start,” she said, patting the back of Rowan's hand sympathetically. “Some of the best things start over studying, I guess.” 

She was trying not to look at Lizzie, but she had seen the furtive glance directed at her anyway.

“I think a study date is a great idea,” she declared, determinedly ignoring Penny. “If you feel insecure about going on a proper date with him, treading on safe ground is always best. You feel confident sharing knowledge and you’re a great teacher. You’ll have a fantastic time,” she added, pointedly looking into a still giggling Tonks’ direction.

“You know what else would make me feel more confident? If I wasn’t alone,” Rowan said. “I’m nervous even thinking about it. What if Barnaby already knows all the stuff I could teach him?”

“Nothing I’d be afraid of… Merlin’s beard, Jameson, stop it!” Skye complained after receiving her third kick from Lizzie. Thankfully, Rowan was paying their bickering no mind.

“What if I forget my facts? Just imagine - Hogwarts’ youngest professor in the making, not knowing what she is talking about anymore. Can’t one of you come with me?” she said with a pleading look at Lizzie. Tonks stopped laughing, while Penny and Skye exchanged glances. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Penny asked tentatively. “You kind of had this exact situation before, you know?”

Lizzie felt the heat rising to her face. “That was something different,” she said quickly. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Tonks said breezily, falling silent at the dark look Lizzie was giving her. 

“Yes, it was. I’m not interested in Barnaby whatsoever and he obviously has a crush on Rowan. I would never -” Lizzie stopped herself right there, seeing how Tonks was raising her eyebrows. “What I wanted to say is, of course I’ll come with you if that makes you feel better,” she said to Rowan instead. “Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there to cheer you on.” 

“What we can’t do alone, we can conquer with the support of our friends, thus is the spirit of friendship.”

Lizzie couldn’t help the smile spreading on her face upon hearing Orion’s voice behind her. She shuffled closer to Rowan to make room for him on the bench. Her smile widened when Orion leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. They were sitting near the end of the table, close to the raised podium where the professors were sat. The teachers weren’t approving of too much public display of affection, so a kiss on the cheek would have to be enough for her.

As usual, Skye was rolling her eyes from across the table. “Get a room, you two.”

“Deal with it, Parkin,” Lizzie shot back and flicked a pea at her. It hit her right between the eyes, bumped off her head and rolled off the table.  

“Jameson’s lunch hits Parkin straight  in the middle of her forehead. Her aim with peas has now improved by 10.4 % compared to grapes,” Murphy commented happily while reaching for the bowl with potatoes at the same time as Skye. Since Skye had no intention of eating and every intention of throwing them, he quickly snatched the bowl out of her reach.

“What have you girls been talking about anyway?” he asked as he piled the food onto his plate. 

“Rowan has a date,” Tonks said conspiratorially.

“With Barnaby Lee,” Penny continued with a dreamy sigh.

“And Jameson’s gonna crash it on request,” Skye added, still glowering at her teammate. 

Orion’s eyes came to rest on his girlfriend. “You are accompanying Rowan to her rendez-vous?”

“We’re studying,” Rowan corrected him hastily. “It’s no such thing as a rendez-vous.”

“If I remember correctly, we had a situation that was 75.8 % similar last year and it plunged our group into more chaos than Tonks spilling Vitamix Potion over the plants in the common room.”

“This is different. I know it sounds just like what happened last year, but all I want is to support Rowan,” Lizzie repeated firmly, daring anyone to press the matter further. It hurt that all of her friends were so apprehensive about the situation. It wasn’t like she had purposefully developed feelings for Orion while Rowan had been crushing on him, after all. 

She felt Orion’s hand cover her own under the table, his thumb running over the back of her hand in a reassuring gesture. She gave his hand a light squeeze and smiled gratefully at him.

They resumed their meal without bringing the topic of Rowan’s date up again. The conversation soon turned to the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor and Lizzie was thankful for the distraction. When they got up to leave, Lizzie and Orion trailed behind the group. 

“You’re still bothered by Rowan’s request, aren’t you?” Orion said quietly as they walked out of the Great Hall side by side.

“It’s more the reaction of the others. They act as if I’m going to steal Barnaby away from Rowan if I come too close. It’s ridiculous.” 

“You have to admit, the similarities to the arrangement you made last year are striking.” 

“So you agree with them?” Lizzie said, suddenly feeling irritated.

“Not at all,” Orion replied calmly, draping his arm around her shoulder as soon as they were out of sight of the teachers’ table. Lizzie relaxed and leaned against his shoulder. “I was just stating the obvious. Repetition is part of our nature, but so is growth. It is by learning from the past that we change our paths. The premise of this new situation may be similar, but the variants have changed because you have grown and adapted.” 

He stopped and gave her a sweet, lingering kiss that made Lizzie’s knees go weak. “Don’t forget, Chaser, the stroke of a butterfly’s wings can alter the course of the world. Just imagine what somebody as marvellous as you could do.”

They made their way back to the common room talking about their upcoming Quidditch practice, but Lizzie couldn’t get Orion’s words out of her head. Her friends were right in saying that Lizzie and Rowan going on a study date with an unheeding boy did have somewhat of a history, but Orion had a point, as well - things had changed profoundly, so what was she even worrying about? 

When the weekend and the day of Rowan’s date arrived, the usually so collected Hufflepuff prefect was reduced to a nervous wreck. Neither Penny’s soothing words nor Tonks’ horrendous jokes were helping much in making Rowan feel better. 

Skye had decided to stay out of the discussion altogether. “There’s a reason I’m not interested in blokes and I won’t start getting a twist in my knickers over one that isn’t even my problem.” 

Rowan actually seemed grateful that at least one of her friends wasn’t making a fuss about her, so Lizzie decided to stay on the quiet side as well and see whatever Rowan would be needing to calm down. When they were walking to the library in the late afternoon, her curiosity eventually got the better of her, however.

“How are you feeling?” she asked as they were climbing the staircase leading from the dungeons to the ground floor. “Are you nervous?”

“I feel worse than before we got our O.W.L. results,” Rowan groaned. “What if this is all a bad idea? What if everything goes wrong? I’m not even sure I like him that way.” She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes going wide behind her silver-rimmed glasses. “Oh no, what if he doesn’t like me that way?” 

Lizzie linked arms with Rowan and pulled her along, stepping into the wide corridor that would take them to the library. “Of course he likes you, Ro. He’d be daft not to, and it was him asking you out, remember?” They stopped in front of the heavy library doors. “As for whether you like him or not, there’s only one way to find out.” 

Before Rowan could say anything, Lizzie pushed the doors open and entered the library. She scanned the rows of tables running the length of the vast room between the tall bookshelves until she spotted Barnaby. He was sitting at one of the more secluded studying nooks and looked surprised when he saw that Rowan wasn’t alone.

“Hello, Lizzie,” he said with an astounded voice, “I didn’t know you’d be here, too. Should I have known? Should I have brought more parchment? I should have brought more parchment,” he decided with a miserable look on his face. 

“Don’t worry, Barnaby, I brought my own. And you couldn’t have known I was coming, it was a last minute decision, so to speak. I just need some help with the Care of Magical Creatures homework.”

“But you’re so good with creatures.”

“Not as good as you are.”

“I am pretty good with them, I guess,” Barnaby beamed. “What do you want to know?” 

Lizzie was glad she had put Barnaby at ease, but she could feel Rowan’s eyes on her back as he started rustling through his stack of notes; she stifled a sigh - time to backtrack.

“I have to get an overview over the material first,” she told him quickly. “You and Rowan don’t mind me and do whatever it is you want to do.”

Lizzie sat down, snatched the first Care of Magical Creatures book she could reach and buried herself in the pages with so much enthusiasm she feared Barnaby might get suspicious. Luckily, Barnaby wasn’t someone to easily get suspicious at all.

“Your jumper is very pretty,” Lizzie heard him mumble to Rowan and she bowed deeper over to pages to hide her smile. “Not that you don’t always look very pretty, of course.”

“That’s the jumper of our uniform. Everybody is wearing it.”

“But it suits you better than everybody.”

Lizzie had to suppress a grin. Rowan and Barnaby were so awkward with each other, it was just plain adorable.

They all worked in silence for a while. Every time Lizzie was raising her eyes from her book, she could see Rowan and Barnaby glancing at each other, quickly dropping their eyes to their notes again as soon as they made contact. This was getting nowhere, Lizzie decided. It was time for her to make an exit.

“Oh no,” she suddenly gasped dramatically, earning herself a warning look from Madam Pince.

“What is it?” Rowan asked.

“Are you out of parchment? I can go fetch some,” Barnaby offered. 

“I completely forgot that we have a team meeting in ten minutes,” Lizzie said, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Silly me.”

Rowan looked at her suspiciously. “You had a team meeting the day before yesterday.”

Lizzie cursed inwardly; count on Rowan to keep track. “Yes, but you know how Orion is. The closer the team, the happier he is.” 

“That makes a lot of sense,” Barnaby agreed. “Sitting close to your best friends is wonderful but it can get uncomfortable so quickly.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Lizzie agreed after a moment of stunned silence. “I need to get my Quidditch stuff, so I’d better go. Sorry to leave you hanging,” she winked at Rowan, “but I’m sure you’ll manage perfectly without me.”

She knew by the flicker of panic in Rowan’s eyes that she had figured out what Lizzie was doing. She opened her mouth to protest, but Lizzie had already gathered up her things and was marching in the direction of the exit. 

Instead of leaving the library, however, she checked if Rowan or Barnaby could still see her before turning and walking back the way she had come in the cover of the shelves. When she reached the same level as Rowan’s and Barnaby’s table, she stepped as close to the edge of the bookshelf as she dared and peered around the corner. 

“Psst, Lizzie! Over here!”

Lizzie startled when she heard the subdued whisper. Looking up, she could see Tonks’ bubblegum pink hair peeking out from behind another bookshelf, a very annoyed looking Skye standing next to her. Making sure Roman and Barnaby were distracted, Lizzie darted across the aisle.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed at her friends.

“Enjoying the show,” Tonks grinned before peeking around the edge again. “We’ve got a bet going on if Barnaby manages to land with Rowan or not.”

“Some friends you are,” Lizzie said, rolling her eyes. 

“Look who’s talking,” Skye snorted. “Team meeting, what a lame excuse. I expected better of you.”

“Better than hiding behind a bookshelf to spy on my friend’s date, though.” 

Skye was about to shoot back but was interrupted by Tonks. “Do you want to bicker or do you want to know what’s going on?”

Lizzie and Skye glared at each other for another moment before joining Tonks on her watchpost. Skye was kneeling on the ground below her, while Lizzie half climbed onto one of the tables to look over Tonks’ head.

“You three are impossible, seriously.”

Lizzie jumped in surprise. Almost falling off the table, she grabbed Tonks’ shoulder for support, who in turn knocked a heavy foliant off the shelf. It was only thanks to Skye’s sharp reflexes that it didn’t crash onto the floor; she caught the book with one hand, wincing at its considerable weight. The three of them quickly ducked out of sight when Rowan turned her head in their direction. 

They turned to see a stern looking Penny in front of them. She had one hand stemmed into her hips, while the other was holding a leatherbound Potions book. 

“To spy on Rowan, I can’t believe it,” she scolded them. “Is that how friends behave?”

“And you? Are you checking out a book you already own because it’s a different edition than yours? Or is it maybe because you have a perfect view of the tables from the Potion’s section?”

Penny blushed vividly, clutching her book tighter to her chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lizzie.” 

“So you’re saying you don’t want to see the move Rowan just pulled?” Tonks chuckled, her eyes already glued to the reading tables again. Penny moved and snatched the spot on the table from Lizzie before she even got the chance to react. She was left with no choice but to kneel down next to Skye, silently squabbling with her for the better view.

Rowan’s quill was lying on the ground between her and Barnaby’s chair. They both had bent down to retrieve it, their faces so close they were almost touching. Even from where they were hiding, Lizzie could see the flush creeping up Barnaby’s neck. Rowan’s glasses had slid down her nose again, but she made no move to push them back up; she was way too busy staring into Barnaby’s eyes.

Just before their hands could touch over her quill yet another chiding voice in their back had the four girls almost knock their heads together. 

“What in Godric’s name do you think you’re doing?” 

Lizzie turned to see her friend Charlie looking down at them with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The brown leather bag he had slung across his shoulder was looking heavier than usual and there were several books on dragons peeking out from underneath the flap. 

“I’m listening, Snidget,” Charlie said again, looking at Lizzie with raised eyebrows. 

“I suppose admiring the shelving is not something you’d believe?” she asked hopefully. 

“I thought you were better than snooping on Rowan.” Charlie shook his head and nodded towards the exit of the library. “Come on, all of you. I can’t believe you girls sometimes.” 

Knowing that resistance was futile, Lizzie and her friends trudged towards the door. Despite their best efforts to remain hidden, Charlie calling them out had attracted quite the attention. Lizzie was dismayed to see that Rowan and Barnaby were among the students staring in their direction. 

Catching Rowan’s eye, Lizzie was trying her best to convey how sorry she was for first abandoning and then returning to spy on her. She was relieved to see that a smile was forming on Rowan’s face. The sight made Lizzie chuckle to herself; it was a kind of smile she herself was remembering all too well. As she was marched out of the library, she could just hear Rowan saying something to Barnaby, the happy smile still plastered onto both their faces. 

Lizzie wasn’t sure if Barnaby and Rowan had enough in common to actually work in the long run but that was beside the point. For now, Rowan was happy and that was more than enough to make Lizzie satisfied. 

Maybe Orion had been right, she thought to herself. Only because the premise was the same, the ending of a story didn’t have to be. 

Maybe Rowan would get her happy ending after all. 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #quidditch #orion amari #skye parkin #murphy mcnully #barnaby lee #rowan khanna #penny haywood #nymphadora tonks #charlie weasley #lizzie jameson #in the balance