#best part is i actually mentioned this offhand to a doctor once a few years back while discussing other stuff and he basically went

[aewrie]

'once a week or more' well rip

my default state of being when i'm not having a bad day is a little tired & nursing a budding headache. i have a headache right now that i'm ignoring

is this going to be another of those 'there is no such thing as a 'mild' concussion, if you hit your head bad enough to black out it is a concussion' lmao???

i get headaches from fucking everything. weather/air pressure (low and high). low/high blood sugar or too rapid changes there. too bright/dim light (at home i am specific about my lights/curtains at different points of the day/depending on how bright it's outside to avoid these). rapid repetitive/jarring physical motions (just jumping a little can be enough/make it worse). muscle tension. doing stretching/exercise that gets blood really flowing. lack of and/or bad sleep, or too much sleep. getting (strongly) emotional. caffeine (a new exiting one! only started regularly drinking coffee fairly recently. how much caffeine is too much is a fucking mystery though). i should wear glasses (myopia, not too severe) but i avoid it unless i need to see that far that well in part bc the glasses pressing on my temples give me headaches more easily than my eyes being slightly tired does.

i'm probably forgetting a bunch more

but every time i've seen people describe migraines i've thought well mine aren't anywhere near that severe/those specific kinds of headaches so No Way it's that

but. i do have other symptoms on that list? i just never thought it might be related to my headaches bc i'd not seen those mentioned, at least not in a way that i could identify as something i should consider in connection to this, and there's always the huge stress that migraines are always extra super bad to the point that a Real migraine completely disables you for a while. while to me it's. it's annoying, it hurts, if it's particularly bad it can make things more difficult but not impossible/near impossible; just, a general It's Not That Bad, therefore normal and i should just deal with it

#i should probably try to keep a diary of this crap for a while #i am looking at additional symptom lists from should-be-reliable sources and it's not looking great #yourebablingjulle #best part is i actually mentioned this offhand to a doctor once a few years back while discussing other stuff and he basically went #yeah it's normal some people just get headaches more easily #not sure how i phrased it or if he understood how frequent my headaches are #work stress definitely contributes so it's gotten worse since that time period tho #i often avoid painkillers or strategically schedule taking them bc otherwise i'm having them near constantly #most notably i might bear through a few hours of a semi-bad one if i know i need it later to be able to sleep ok #(not too common but it happens) #bc at their worst they do fuck with my already sketchy ability to sleep #melatonin thankfully works for me and it is a lifesaver #one other thing i know works is acupuncture but one session costs almost as much as a year's supply of melatonin and that Not affordable #(i had ~a year while recovering from depression/burnout where i could have ear acupuncture done weekly without having to pay for it #figured that if nothing else i get to chill for a bit on a regular basis. scheduled no-stress time. #when the nurse was unavailable at times and couldn't do it i realized i slept noticeably better when i got my ears poked regularly)

[thewritershelpers]

Let’s Get Dressed (FULL)

A long, long time ago (2013, to be exact), H from TheWritersHelpers and C from WriteWorld (inactive) got together for a collaboration on how to write and describe clothing. This is the fruits of their labor.**

Anonymous asked: Any tips on describing clothing?

The Writer’s Helpers and WriteWorld have teamed up to create a series on clothing and fashion. These articles were primarily written in the context of how to write about clothing. 

Clothing is a term that is used to describe items worn by humans (and recently other animals, like tiny dogs), either for practical reasons or for reasons of style. Since humans have been wearing clothing for tens of thousands of years, it’s probably best to narrow down the timeframe for the clothing you’re describing to a particular era, year, season, etc. With that in mind, let’s talk about fashion!

Fashion (n): A popular trend, esp. in styles of dress, ornament, or behavior.

We’ll be discussing the dress and ornament portion of this definition. Now, there are a few ways that fashion might affect your description of clothing: Your character might be fashionable, ahead of the times, behind the times, or apart from fashion entirely. All of this is going to make a difference not only in what the clothing actually is, but also in what there is to describe about said clothing. Let’s have a look at these different positions for your character on the fashion scale:

1. Fashionable. Fashionable characters are insiders. They are usually very in tune with what is hip with the kids. Fashionable characters (for an example, read the booksThe Devil Wears Prada,,The Princess Diaries, and Confessions of a Shopaholic) can usually have a backstory where they once were not fashionable- perhaps the unpopular nerd- and with a little help or luck, improve their fashion sense. Magazines such as Vogue, Seventeen, or GQ can act as guides for your fashionista characters in present day. For more on eras, check out the “Links to Look At” section at the end of this article. If you’re writing a fashionable character, you might use clothing labels to describe your character’s clothes as opposed to just describing the color, size, etc. You might also want to thread themes through the character’s style, such as the season or a trademark for the character (think always wears yellow or channels Audrey Hepburn on the red carpet). Materials vary often in fashion, but fashionable characters are more likely to wear expensive fabrics and jewelry. After all, they have a reputation to uphold. 

2. Ahead of the times. These are the trendsetters, the fashion pioneers, the people who pave the way for others and push the boundaries in all the right ways. Trends come and go, but the fashion forward never look back. Characters wearing forward-thinking fashion (or couture) might find themselves in fur and duct tape and think nothing of it. Descriptions of their clothing might tend toward the bizarre and using eclectic words may help drive home the eccentricities of their style.  For example: Her aluminum coat sparked like Tesla coils in the firelight. Weird descriptors aren’t a problem for fashion-forward characters. The weirder, the better.

3. Behind the times. There are those unfortunate souls who do not keep up with the fashion popular at the time your story takes place. Whether it’s the 1580’s or the 1980’s, not all fashions are universal. Styles come and go, but if your character’s whole wardrobe was procured twenty years before the story begins, they’re probably not up with the latest fashions. This might arise from monetary constraints or because of isolation, but the simple fact is: not everything is retro-chic.

Retro-Chic (adj): pertaining to the fashionableness of the nostalgic revival of a style.

Characters who are behind the times might have old clothes that aren’t in the best condition. They may not have the vocabulary to describe the clothes they wear or that others wear with any degree of accuracy. This most especially applies to clothing labels or technical terms for the design of clothes as the character is not up on the popular designers and the newest fashions.

Apart from fashion altogether. There are many reasons why a character might be apart from fashion. Fashion is essentially self-expression, and some people don’t care. Take into consideration religious preferences (monk attire is pretty standard), strict parental figures (if your character is a youngster), or time travel (we’re lookin’ at you, Doctor Who). Characters who stand apart from fashion may also be unaware of the terminology to accurately describe clothing popular at the time and in the place of your story. These characters might not, for example, know the word “silk” and so must describe around the word. They might not have any concept for manufactured material and therefore have trouble describing nylon or faux leather.

Links to Look At:

“Why Do We Wear Clothes?” by vsauce

Glossary of Clothing Terms by allwords.com

Your Guide to Clothing Terms by EBay

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

Let’s look at detail. What sort of descriptors could you use, how could you use them, and why?

Try not to go overboard with the description, but make your descriptive words count. Let’s look at an example of a simple description of the two largest articles of clothing on an example character:

She wore a top and a skirt. 

That’s pretty basic. “Top”, for example, isn’t very descriptive. After all, women’s fashion is complicated! So, let’s use specific terminology: 

She wore a blouse and a skirt. 

You might add color: 

She wore a black blouse and a gray skirt. 

You might add fabric descriptions (Remember, the color describes the fabric now, so it goes before the descriptive word for whatever material the clothing is made of):

She wore a black silk blouse and a gray tweed skirt. 

There are other descriptors worth mentioning such as how the clothing drapes or hangs, its age and general condition, its size and length, and the overall feeling toward it from the narrator. 

How it drapes: The dress was slinky; it clung to her curves and pooled like water at her feet.

Its age/condition: His jeans were faded and ratty at the seams, especially on the back pockets where there were inch-wide holes.

Its size/length: Her boyfriend’s XXL shirt nearly swallowed her up and fell to her knees like a shapeless potato sack.

Narrator feeling: It was an ugly gray uniform. 

With all of these descriptors around, the business of relaying useful information to the the reader about a character’s clothing can get pretty muddled. No one wants to read a description like:

She wore a boring black silk blouse that was over-large, a few years old, and hung blandly from the crest of her breasts. Her shin-length gray tweed pencil skirt was also old and too small for her hips. 

There is just way too much going on there. Too many descriptors. Cut out the adjectives and adverbs that aren’t absolutely necessary, the ones that don’t really add anything essential to character or the look and feel of the scene. You may think that the above example is so obviously bloated that it’s too easy for me to state offhand that you must hack away at its descriptors and leave only the bare essentials. Well, I agree, but it is possible to have a decent bit of description and still overshare. For instance, it might be way too detailed to embroider the blouse and skirt example thusly:

She wore a black silk blouse that shone in the flourescent light of the waiting room. It had loose sleeves that gathered at the crook of her elbows with a little bow and buttons covered in the same sleek material as the blouse. Her skirt was made of gray tweed and slightly out of fashion. The waist cut uncomfortably into her stomach just below her navel and the hem rode up past her knees when she sat. She couldn’t cross her legs in the skirt; it was too tight. 

Now, if the “loose sleeves that gathered at her elbows” are described for a purpose--maybe she has an injury or blemish she’s trying to conceal or she’s very modest--then details of this kind are great to have. Unless the details of the clothes are important to develop the character or the plot or the setting, you need not distract the reader with unnecessary description. 

There are a few methods to consider when describing clothing. 

Blocks. Block style moves from the biggest, most noticeable articles of clothing to the smallest. It describes in a similar order to what the eye sees. Since the largest piece of clothing at around eye-level will be covering the upper body, block style usually starts there with a shirt or jacket or the bodice of a dress. Layers in an outfit are described from the outermost clothing item to the innermost item, then go back to catch the accent items. 

For example: He wears a jacket, vest, and crisp white shirt with a checkered tie and matching blue pocket handkerchief. 

Another fun tip: If items match, you only need to describe one with the corresponding details. Notice that I was able to omit the color of the tie because I said the blue handkerchief matched it and that I didn’t mention the pattern on the handkerchief because we knew that it at least looked good with a checkered tie. 

In the instance of a dress, however, it is more likely that block style will point out the most noticeable (i.e. largest) part of the dress first. If the dress has a poofy skirt, you can bet block style will point that out. Regardless, if the article of clothing covering the upper body is separate from the article covering the lower body, block style usually describes the top first then moves to the bottom then to details like shoes, belts, and jewelry.

Colors. A large part of clothing is color. The color of what a person wears often depicts their mood without them realizing. It has a lot to do with color psychology (x), which describes how different colors affect a person’s mood. The human eye is also attracted to bright colors (some of which even cause headaches and irritation, such as bright yellow or red), though the average eye can see around seven million colors. For more information on color theory, click here. 

More likely than not, a person wearing orange might be noticed before a person wearing gray. The eye is drawn to the orange because it is bright and demanding. Weather also affects what colors a character would wear. For example, in winter months, many people wear darker colors such as black, navy, grays, and browns (termed neutrals) because the lack of Vitamin-D in the human body doesn’t allow for endorphins to be produced as largely, causing a decline in mood. It is commonly believed that darker colors represent darker or depressing moods. And in summer months, your character might be wearing brighter colors such as yellows, pinks, and greens because sunlight elevates a person’s mood.

It is also important to remember the cultures of your characters. Say a character is getting married and is of Irish descent. Assuming she’s traditional, she would wear a blue wedding dress because in ancient times, blue represented purity and was the prefered color for brides. In many cultures, such as in Sweden and China, the color white represents mourning or death. It is essential to research the culture of your characters. Otherwise, you may end up with a white wedding that feels like a heck-of-a-lot more like a funeral. For more on what brides wear around the world, click here. For more on color symbolism, try here and here.

Describing colors can be difficult and you don’t want to be put into the category of really cliche fan fiction descriptions. His green orbs watered and he blinked to keep the tears from spilling over... Not happening here. Generally, you’ll need another word to help describe the color of something (for a list, click here). For example:

His shirt was pastel blue.

Placing “pastel” in front of “blue” indicates that the blue that he was wearing was lighter, or closer to a neutral color than if he were to be wearing a dark blue shirt. 

Her jeans were covered in patches fabric with flamboyant pink bunnies.

What do you think when you see the word flamboyant? You think bright; you think colorful; you think brightly colored and decorated. It adds more than just saying “Her jeans had patches in them”. Don’t be afraid to dip into the Crayola Crayon color dictionary and use names of colors like “Mac n’ Cheese Orange” or “Sahara Desert”. Used in the right context, these colors can add another dimension to your regular oranges and browns. Though these fun words are great alternatives to your average colors, be careful not to overuse them. No one wants to read one incredibly-detailed clothing item after another. 

Fun fact: If you put a group of women in a room, those who are wearing red are most likely on their period. 

Reverse Order of Dress. This is a weird one. When in doubt, describe in the order that you put on your clothes--backwards. Obviously, you’d want to start with the visible items and work your way closer and closer to the body. So, if you put on your shirt then your pants then your cardigan then your shoes, describe in that order. 

** This is not to say that H will not continue this series later on. However, this is the extent of their collaboration. 

#Collab #Collab with WriteWorld #WriteWorld #Lets Get Dressed #Describing clothing #description #writing clothing #writing help #Made by TWH

[contre-qui]

Book 9 of 2020: Maplecroft

(at this point I'm not going to bother with the quarantine tally because this thing is gonna last for like a year)

Maplecroft by Cherie Priest

"'You're looking for magic, Lizzie. God doesn't give us magic, only science.'

'Last century's magic is this year's science,' I argued. [...]

'You're treading on dangerous ground.'

'We're living on dangerous ground. And we can't seem to leave it, so I'll work on making it less dangerous - which, yes, is a dangerous effort in itself.' Exasperated with both her and myself, I threw up my hands. 'I'm not sure what you want from me, Emma. I am doing my best and that's all that can be asked of me.'

'No one is asking more. But I fear for you, out there, downstairs, fighting monsters. You touch those things, and they touch you back.'" (112)

I haven't read a Cherie Priest book in years, but when my mom loaned me this one I was super excited. I had mentioned offhand to her about the Borden murders and my personal theories behind the killer(s), and she grabbed this little beauty for me to read.

       Maplecroft is a sci-fi/Eldritch horror take on the murders of Abigail and Andrew Borden in Fall River, MA. The book doesn't actually focus on their murders; it opens a few years after they have occured and Lizzie Borden has been found innocent by the court. Now, Lizbeth lives with her sister Emma in a new house they call Maplecroft, on the other side of town. Rumors abound about the both of them, especially Lizbeth. Lizbeth, however has bigger issues. Strange monsters threaten her home on a regular basis.  A collection of strange stones she keeps in her basement laboratory call to her. Her research has led to few answers as to what these creatures might be, or what they want. But her trusty axe tends to take care of them. Emma is significantly older than Lizzie, and is suffering from consumption. She has a correspondence partner at a university who believes her to be a man - a doctor of marine biology like himself. When Emma mails him a strange specimen she found on the beach for his examination and interest, he becomes sucked into this world of monsters too. And back in Fall River, people are starting to become affected with a strange sickness that bloats and slows the body, addles the mind, and looks eerily similar to what affected Andrew and Abigail Borden before their murders. These strange happenings are all connected somehow, but the full picture is unclear until the very end.

       This was such a well-written novel. The word choice was excellent, and I loved the way Priest was able to write her characters and their development. The novel switches between perspectives by using different correspondences and journal entries of the characters to round out the story and clue readers in to a number of factors and details before the characters themselves are able to get the whole picture. We also get perspective from the affected professor, which really adds a level of creep-factor to the whole thing. As he falls deeper into madness, his justification for his actions becomes twisted and terrifying, really adding to the strangeness of the story. I loved the cast of characters - from real people like Emma and Lizzie, to fictional add-ons like a local doctor, an actress, a government investigator, and even the one-off perspectives of people like telegram operators. Even characters we met only once were interesting and dynamic. I personally enjoyed the inclusion of a small romance between Lizbeth and an actress named Nance, who became involved in the whole situation as well. Not only was I pleased to see a queer relationship written so casually, even in a novel set Victorian Massachusetts, but it wasn't even the main focus of the book. I think the fact that Nance could have been a man without much changing the story really makes that little inclusion special because it shows a conscious choice on Priest's part to represent queer people in a time period when we are often written out of history.

Overall, if you're into creepy, Lovecraftian horror, you'll probably like this. Maplecroft veers more towards creepy and suspenseful than actually scary, but maybe if you're more sensitive to monsters/suspense than I am that might make it scarier. Plus, if you're also a fan of true crime or you know about the Borden murders, this is a super interesting take on a real event that doesn't have a distinct conclusion.

        Trigger warnings for violence, blood, monsters, character death, killing/murder/self defence, illness, weaponry (axe, gun), mentions of Christianity/religion, and general creepiness. Also Lovecraft was a massive racist so if you don't like things based on that type of Eldritch horror I guess keep that in mind, but this does not have racist leanings; it's just a use of that type of monster.

       My overall opinion: An extremely creative idea, executed brilliantly!

#contrespeaks #bookblr #booklr #book recs #book reviews #mini book review #cherie priest #maplecroft #the borden dispatches #lizzie borden #the borden murders #true crime #supernatural #horror #supernatural horror #eldritch horror #lovecraftian horror #suspense #books of 2020

[chaz-targrin-gw2]

Targrin, Interlude: The Sidearm

(As promised, here’s the second half of this week’s pair of Targrin stories! This one’s about how Chaz got the pistol they use as an offhand weapon. I’ll likely share links to the Google Docs of these after I’ve posted all of them, so you can see the stories in their original formatting!)

NAVIGATION: <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

The Sidearm

1328AE, Doctor Maakinen’s Home, Rata Sum

(A day after the events of Targrin, Act 3: Scars)

Chaz shot up from the guest room bed with a startled grunt, taking heaving, shuddering breaths as they glanced around the darkened room. Another damn nightmare, nothing new there, they thought to themselves as they caught their breath. Bleary-eyed, they groped about for their glasses, hands still shaking.

Their ears flicked and their fur stood on end as they heard a low, grumbling sound from… somewhere in the room. “Mn… who… who’s there?!” they gasped, finally feeling their glasses and grasping at them desparately, putting them on with shaky paws.

No response, save for the grumbling, which was getting more ominous. The charr timidly got up, but stayed on their bed, leaning forwards and getting on their hands and knees, as they followed the source of the sound, which was steadily getting louder.

“I said who’s there?!” they barked, in a hushed, shaky tone. Still no response. “This isn’t funny, come on now.”

Shivering, they flicked their ears some more, listening. A clank, followed by a scratching sound, like metal dragging against stone. Anticipating the sound made it worse as they barely stifled a surprised yelp into a horrified squeak, not wanting to wake Doctor Maakinen, who was sleeping in the room across the hall. Looking for the source of the sound, they looked to the darkest corner of the room, and heard a slow grinding… before a pair of glowing, yellow eyes turned around and seemingly glared right at Chaz

The scream of terror immediately jerked Maakinen awake from her sleep. “…Chaz? Chaz, dear, are you okay?”

“HE’S HERE, MOM!” Chaz yelped, “STAY AWAY!”

Maakinen sounded confused, and increasingly worried “What? Who’s there? It’s not the Inquest is it?! Hang on, I’m coming!”

“NO, DON’T-” Before Chaz could finish their sentence, Maakinen charged into the room, and flicked the lights on. Maakinen was still in her sleepwear, holding a rather hefty-looking pistol.

“Where is he?!” Maakinen barked, “I’ll… “ She looked around the room, and her ear flicked as she heard the grinding sound. Both she and Chaz glanced over to the corner of the room, where a small, dome-shaped golem with two glowing yellow sensor crystals hovered about, came to a halt and looked up at the pair.

“Hello-Doctor-Maakinen. The-room-is-now-free-of-dander. Hello-guest-and-dander-source-Chaz-Tarbound. You-are-shedding-more-than-usual-today.”

Maakinen heaved a sigh of relief, lifting her finger off the trigger of the hefty pistol. “I am so sorry about that, I forgot to tell you the Dynamics boffins gave me a house-cleaning golem. He���s called Scrublord, and… are you okay?”

Chaz looked positively stunned as they saw Maakinen holding the gun. “I… you…” they buried their head in their hands, clearly embarassed. “Burn me, I am so sorry for waking you up at this hour, mom. I just… had a bad dream, I woke up, and saw… yellow eyes. I thought he’d come to get me.”

“Who, Scrublord?” Maakinen tilted her head. “I think this is the first time you- Oh. Ohhhh… you mean the Separatist who… eugh. “ She facepalmed. “I really should have told you about Scrublord ahead of time. C’mere, it’s okay.” The older asura climbed up onto the bed, sitting down beside Chaz, putting her gun aside and putting a hand on their shoulder. “It’s alright, progeny. You’re safe here.”

Chaz hiccuped a bit and sniffled, but nodded, smiling. “I guess it was kind of silly of me to assume that some lousy Separatist would know where I’d gone, huh?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. I might not know my psychiatry, but I’m more than familiar with the way the mind can play tricks on a person, and I imagine yours isn’t in the best of states right now.”

“Yeah… Can I just say something, though?”

“Of course, dear, what is it?”

“You… Just, when I saw you come through the door holding that gun…”

“Oh, sorry if I startled you.”

“No, no, it’s just… I’m impressed. You heard me yelling, and your first instinct was to charge in to save the day, I… thanks, mom.”

“Nahhhh, it’s nothing, dear. I used to do that all the time when I was keeping you safe from the Inquest. Remember that one guy who came in like he wanted to ask you a few questions?”

“Oh yeah, and then I pointed out all the scalpels and stuff he had on him. Man, you went ballistic on his ass.”

“Figuratively and literally.”

Chaz looked down at the pistol on the bed. It was different from the one they’d seen Maakinen toting in the past, this one looked… sleeker, with a more curved grip. “Woah… since when did you have that gun? I always remembered you having that chunky glyphic number on standby for the Inquest.”

Maakinen grinned. “Oh, this?” She picked the gun up, holding it out for Chaz to see. “This is from about… three years back. Pact standard issue, I was allowed to hold onto mine once I returned home.”

“Ahh, I…” Chaz perked their ears up and looked back at Maakinen, eyes wide. “Wait. You were in the Pact?”

“Oh, I… might have neglected to tell you.” Maakinen chuckled nervously. “I was on the front lines out in Orr as a field medic. I guess I didn’t want you worrying about me while you were busy working with the Tar warband. I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner-”

Chaz gave their mom a pat on the back, smiling. “It’s alright, mom. I appreciate the concern. And I mean, you’re still here, so… Are you doing alright? Being a medic out on the front lines, you must have seen some awful stuff.”

“Oh yes, terrible, horrific things. Those Risen were something else, and the wounds they inflicted…” She shuddered. “I suppose it’s fortunate that I was stationed with Psychiatrist Aada, one of my krewemates. Between the two of us we were able to keep the other troops’ morale high, and she was able to help me keep it together when the nature of my work started to get too much for me to handle.”

Chaz listened intently to the story. “Aada’s the one you mentioned yesterday, yes?”

Maakinen nodded. “I still owe her for helping me out, so I’m going to be doing legwork for her, getting in touch with people from other races. Aada’s hoping to collaborate with psychiatrists across Tyria, to gain a better understanding of how each race handles the ailments of the mind.”

“So what ‘official’ name are the Curie Krewe gonna be rocking for this latest endeavour?”

“Well we’re still deciding on that part. After yesterday I thought about suggesting the name ‘Chaz Krewe’ after finding out what you’ve been through…”

“Mom…”

“Buuuut I don’t want to embarass you like that, so I’ll keep that one to myself. The other krewemates are workshopping some names right now. Aada suggested ‘Emayy’.”

“Emayy? That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s a phonetic spelling of the acronym MA - Short for Mental Ailments. We might go for MI - that’s Emeye - for Mental Illness instead…”

“How long do you expect it’ll take to decide on a name and found the krewe this time?”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Maakinen snarked, before glancing about a bit and leaning in closer to whisper. “We’re just stalling while we wait for the next fiscal period to kick off so we can apply for more generous funding.”

“Right on,” Chaz nodded.

“Anything else you wanted to know about my work on the front lines?”

“Well… that gun… did you-”

“Several Risen. Got one of those bastards right between the eyes, that was satisfying.”

“Wow. That gun’s huge compared to you, I’m surprised your wrist isn’t all messed up with the kickback.”

“Well, I’ve a few tricks up my sleeve. See, this gun isn’t actually loaded. It’s more like a tool for me to focus illusory magic through. That said, it is fully functional.” She picked it up, and offered it to Chaz, grip first. “You want it? Looks like it’d fit your hands just fine”

“I-- what?” Chaz was blindsided. “Just like that?”

“I’d… been thinking about it for a while. Swords are more my style, you know that, but after what you told me yesterday, about the ambush… I just couldn’t bear to think of you going back out there without having something for your own defense.”

Chaz looked at the gun, unsure, but eventually they gently took it, and got a feel for its weight. “You know, not many moms would just up and give their kid a gun like that.”

“Well, not many asura moms have a fluffy progeny, eh dear?” Maakinen chuckled

“Point,” Chaz conceded. They set the gun to the side, and hugged Maakinen. “Thank you. I promise to only use it if I absolutely need to.”

“Of course. You always were extra cautious, even in the fahrar, if what your primus told me was right.”

Chaz chuckled. “I suppose that’s true.” A thought suddenly struck them, and they asked, “Hey, mom? When you were out in Orr… Did you happen to see any interesting-looking war machines?”

“As a matter of fact I did. Our camp was given a shipment of automated turrets for defense. Curious things, they looked all for the world as if Iron Legion had built them, save for one little difference.”

“Oh?” Chaz tilted their head. “What would that be?”

“Just underneath the barrels of the turrets…” Maakinen tried to visualise the turrets with her hands, pointing at an imagined spot, “There was a crystal array. These things were brilliant, they could lead moving targets and mowed down Risen with frightening accuracy. Almost like a fusion of charr might and… asura… precisionnnn…” she looked up at Chaz, a little smirk growing across her face. “Those were yours, weren’t they?”

The charr laughed, smiling sweetly and hugging their mom. “I’m just glad to know Tar warband’s weaponry made it onto the battlefield. A lot of work went into those, I mostly helped calibrate the crystals.”

Maakinen hugged Chaz back. “Now I’m doubly sorry I never told you that I was serving with the Pact!”

“Haha, it’s okay, mom, it’s okay. You can rest proud knowing your fluffy progeny was fighting alongside you, in a manner of speaking.”

“I suppose that’s true, dear,” Maakinen chuckled, yawning a bit. “…What hour is it, anyway? We should both try and get back to sleep, I’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow, and you, progeny, need all the rest you can get after what you’ve been through.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try, mom,” Chaz nodded. “Sorry again for waking you up like that. I’ll try and remember about the cleaning golem next time.”

“I think the lil bugger needs a bit of re-programming and a change of sensor crystals, so as not to spook you from now on. What do you think, Scrublord?”

“Doctor-Maakinen. You-are-covered-in-dander.”

“Damn straight I am.”

#Chaz Targrin #Doctor Maakinen #Charr #Asura #Chaz is a Scribe #Guild Wars 2 #guns cw #ptsd cw #Lemme know if I should tag for anything else

[not-moose-squad]

Rebound Girl, Pt. 7

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: When you and Jensen are done packing, he finally listens to the call on your answering machine. What you are about to hear, changes everything.

A/N1: this is the second last part to my series for @casbabydontgoineedyou‘s 1k follower challenge. I’m terribly late, I’m sorry! the last part is going to be a fluffy epilogue, coming around Monday or Tuesday

A/N2: As this series is coming to an end, I want to remind you that I am taking requests - for my first and last drabble series as well as requests in general. Also if you’d like to be tagged in other writings of mine, shoot me an ask/message. If not: thank you so much for reading guys! I never would have thought that you’d like this story that much! I love you! <3 (this counts for everyone on every tag list, of course :p)

Warnings: Anti Danneel!, language, Jensen kinda blackmailing someone (he means well tho). I guess that’s it; let me know if I missed something.

Catch up here

Jensen’s POV

YN and I had been really together now for three weeks. Basically right after the wrap on season 12 of Supernatural so we both decided that it would be nice to go on holidays. Mainly because we both wanted to get away from Danneel but also because we thought that we both deserved a little downtime. Of course Danneel hadn’t made only one day easy for us. Until I turned my phone off she texted me perpetually and asked questions about which stroller I thought would be best or which color we should paint the room and she even started suggesting baby names.

Not hearing from Danneel or anything about strollers, diapers and babies in general was… relieving somehow. Of course I was excited for all the things but when I was honest with myself the more time had passed the more suspicious I had become. She never let me come with her to the doctors and especially not when she had an appointment for sonograms. I would just simply get a picture of them afterwards with a text saying how excited she was.

One evening I told YN about it when we had dinner and even though she agreed with me that Danneel was acting strangely she tried to calm me down.

“Jensen, Dee is a sly and scheming bitch but faking a pregnancy? That’s even too much for her!”

I knew she was right but I still couldn’t shake off the bad feeling I had. It made me feel bad somehow, after all she was the woman I wanted to propose to not too long ago and actually I should be genuinely happy about becoming a father but it was Danneel. Adding up to that was the way she started to urge me to like her posts on Instagram again and she even wanted to make a post about her pregnancy.

The three of us sat together and together we could convince Danneel that she wouldn’t be posting it as long as she could hide her baby bump. The news that I was now in a relationship with my best friend was headline enough for now. I didn’t want it to be overshadowed or queried by Danneel’s pregnancy.

Today was our last day on Hawaii before we would head back to Dallas tomorrow morning. We had the most excited thing planned for Dallas. YN and I had talked about our living situations in the first week of our holidays and we both agreed on not wanting to have a long distance relationship. So we’d sort through her things and decide which things to pack for Vancouver and which things we’d take to Austin to my place.

The first call she had made was to her boss. She explained the situation briefly to her and then asked if it was possible for her to work from home as this was the easiest way for her to work from Vancouver and Austin. Of course her boss wasn’t very pleased but promised to initiate everything.

“You know,” YN started, turning her head to look at me, “I can’t believe I’m actually moving in with you.”

I laughed. “It’s pretty cool, huh?” That it simultaneously scared the shit out of us was something we didn’t like to mention, especially as we both had expressed our fears about that before. But somehow it felt as if there always were only to possibilities for us: rush things or fail. And none of us really knew what could go wrong, after all we had lived together back in our college times before and there were no other people out there that knew us better than we knew each other.

She nodded and then her cheeks blushed a bit. “I thought that, you know, once everything is settled – in Austin and Vancouver – we should totally christen all of our rooms then.” A cheeky smile spread on her face.

I smiled and turned on my sunbed so we were facing each other, grabbing her by her waist so I could pull her closer to me. “Is that so?” I whispered against her lips.

“Yes”, she giggled and then playfully slapped me on my shoulder. “And now, you pervert, I wanna go swimming.” She gave me one last kiss before she got up and went to the pool.

We arrived at lunchtime back at YN’s house in Dallas and we were both equally excited to pack her things. YN had insisted on keeping her house because “just in case” but it meant that we only needed to box her clothes and most important belongings but nevertheless it took us longer than expected mostly because it was so hard to resist her when she was wearing the shortest shorts she owned. I knew she only did that to tease me but she knew it worked perfectly. So between packing, her showing me a few of her favourite lingerie and the one or other quickie it had taken us five hours to pack six years of living in that house into boxes.

“Huh, unbelievable”, YN said and let herself fall down onto her couch. “I really had six great years here…” Her voice trailed off, probably reliving the greatest memories she had experienced here.

Plunging down next to her I saw that her answering machine was blinking. I nodded towards it and asked why she hadn’t listened to the message yet.

She shrugged. “It was blinking already when I came home after… after you know what. I figured it was you and then we went to Hawaii. Wait… It wasn’t you?”

I shook my head. “Want me to get it?” YN nodded.

Clearing my throat I got up and pressed the button. The voice of a very jittery Gen filled the room.

“YN? Shit, you need to call me back as soon as possible. Please you can’t believe Danneel one word about her pregnancy. We went to the movies last… it doesn’t matter. I overheard a call where she said it was all fake and her way to get Jens-“ She was cut off by the automatic ending of her answering machine but the way this sentence was supposed to end was crystal clear.

When I looked at YN her face was pale and shock was written all over her face. I had been right all along.

Reader’s POV

You were more than shocked. When Jensen had told you about his suspicion you were offhand about it. Sure, Danneel was a scheming bitch but you honestly thought that she at least had some decency. But obviously she’d stoop to anything to get her way.

Jensen stood still next to your telephone, shock also clearly evident on his face. This would change everything. You almost had broken up with him because of her pregnancy. You would have given up on your future with Jensen for a fucking fake pregnancy.

“Did you… Did you hear what I heard?” Jensen asked carefully.

You nodded, somehow as if you were in trance. This seemed even more surreal than Danneel announcing her pregnancy did. But now everything made sense. Why she was more focused on you than on Jensen the night she told you, why Jensen couldn’t accompany her to her sonograms… It was all just to force herself back into Jensen’s life.

From one moment to another your emotions changed from shock to anger. This stupid bitch. Who did she think she was? How could someone possibly be so hungry for fame and attention that she would do anything to get back to her ex-boyfriend, her only chance for her to become said things just because she was a shallow actress who had probably more botox in her face than others had in their whole body. Not to mention her obvious shitty character. She deserved nothing and especially not Jensen’s pure heart.

“Are you al-alright?” You asked. It surely had to be even harder for him than for you.

“I – uhm… I don’t know.”

Jensen came over to the couch. The ease from only a few minutes ago was gone, instead there was a weird tension now. He hid his face in his hands.

“You know”, he started, his face still in his hands, “I knew there was something off but I… I thought –“

“You wanted to be a dad”, you ended his sentence and he nodded.

“It wouldn’t have been ideal –“

Again you cut him off. “Jensen, you don’t need to justify yourself. I’d never judge you. She’s the only person I’m judging. Maybe it’s no comfort but in a few years… you and me?”

He finally looked up and smiled. “Hey, no, this is not what I meant. We have all the time in the world and, hell, this is how things should have been right from the start. You and me and in a few years we’re gonna have kids – if you want to, of course.”

His eyes were so soft and his smile honest, it made you smile as well. “I know we’re still speaking hypothetically but I’d love to be the mother of your children.” You cleared your throat. “But at first I wanna kick that bitch’s ass.”

“Yeah, I wanna do that as well”, Jensen laughed. 

Half an hour later you were in the car on your way to Austin. You’d arrive in the evening where you actually just wanted to unpack the boxes in Jensen’s new house but that didn’t matter quite as much as it did this morning. You wanted to punch her in her face. Jensen had called her before you left and said that you’d come for a quick check-up on her before you’d bring your stuff to Jensen’s place. Little did she know that you’d brush her botox-smile out of her face.

The car drive could have been happier but nevertheless you and Jensen sang along to various songs and you were surprised when he rapped along to Eminem without getting one word wrong. This was something you didn’t know about him and it made you smile that were things you could still surprise each other with.

You were lucky and didn’t get in any severe traffic jams which allowed you to pull up in Danneel’s driveway around 10 pm. The both of you were tired but your anger flooded your body with just enough adrenaline to take this conversation on and not too much so it stopped you from punching her in her shiny, botoxed face when she opened the door.

“Jensen”, she smiled, or maybe you should say grimaced, and hugged him. You felt him stiffening next to you. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Jensen only shot her a short smile. “Yeah, actually we are pretty tired so if we could just talk for a second that would be nice, Danneel.”

She nodded and opened the door a bit further so you and Jensen could come in. She ignored you but somehow you didn’t expect anything else. You were nothing but a disturbing factor to her. You wondered how she planned on getting rid of you. If she considered murder you wouldn’t be too surprised, if you were honest with yourself.

You and Jensen sat down on the large couch. Nothing looked like it used to back then when it was still their shared home. She changed everything, from the curtains to the light switches, even.

Danneel sat down opposite of you, her legs crossed and her look expectant. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

“How did you do it?” Jensen asked, his voice calmer than usual to hide all his anger.

Danneel cocked her eyebrows and laughed nervously. “How did I do what?”

“Faked your fucking pregnancy!” You yelled. Unlike Jensen you couldn’t keep warm. “I would have given up everything with Jensen. I almost would have let you win, you fucking bitch. How dare you to play such a charade? I thought you were at your lowest when you wanted Jensen to marry you so people would finally remember your existence but this? This is a new level of pathetic, even for you, Elta!”

Mid-rant you had jumped up, getting dangerously close to her. Your fists were balled and in your head you were already slapping the shit out of her but the last piece of conscious – and Jensen grabbing you by your waist – held you back.

“Don’t. She ain’t even worth the spit!” He guided you back towards the couch, practically forcing you to sit on his lap so he could control you, have a hold on you. “Calm down”, he then whispered in your ear, placing a chaste kiss behind it.

Danneel laughed. “What do you want me to say? Or do you even want me to apologize? I just wanted what is due to me.  And honestly, Jensen, we could have had a perfect life. I mean, did I really ask for too much? And as for you, little lap dog, who are you even? You have nothing to offer and Jensen will realize that sooner or later. My fake pregnancy would have just quickened it a bit.” She shrugged.

“Thank you”, Jensen said and applauded shortly. His voice was smooth, almost admiringly.You had been so agitated that you hadn’t realized that Jensen had his phone in one of his hands that were wrapped around you. And neither had Danneel.

Jensen turned his phone around so that she could see the screen which replayed her confession. Her face went as white as a ghost and her mouth fell open. “You didn’t…”, she whispered.

“Yes, I did, Danneel. I didn’t want to but you gave me no other choice. And sometimes you can only win by beating somebody at their own game. Believe me, I will not hesitate to upload that video if you don’t stay away from us and refuse to ever say anything about me or YN publicly. Got it?”

Danneel only nodded. She still couldn’t believe we – or rather Jensen – played her like that. And you were proud of Jensen. Blackmailing her wasn’t the best solution but it was like Jensen said. Sometimes you had to beat them at their own game.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

You got up from Jensen’s lap and passed Danneel, giving her a pitiful look. Jensen didn’t even look at her when he left the room.

Outside you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You were kind of hot in there, threatening her.”

He laughed and placed his hands on your hips. “I hope, though, you will never have to see me like that again.” Then he kissed you. It was a passionate and inappropriately long kiss considering the fact that you stood in front of Danneel’s front door but neither of you cared.

When Jensen broke the kiss to catch his breath he chuckled. “You know, if we had only once turned our phones on we could have known it all along. Jared and Gen left me at least a hundred messages.”

You chuckled as well. Somehow it was really kind of funny. By shutting the world off you had made it harder instead of easier on yourselves. But for now that didn’t matter anymore because it was over and that meant that you and Jensen could start living your life together, start working on a future together and that was all that mattered.

Tag List

Rebound Girl

@juniorhuntersam @msimpala67 @laurenw1025 @ronnie248-blog @be-amaziing @georgialouisea  @daydreamingintheimpala @af112992@kaylynnw428 @viviandarkbloom06 @lenaabs @winchester-writes @sandlee44 @ducksorclowns @arbitranox @keepcalmandbeajunkie @bradygabrielle-blog  @firewerewolf101 @policeofficerdean

Jensen’s babes

@katrena7 @akshi8278 @@girl-with-a-fandom-fettish@crowleys-niece

forever tags

@nanie5  @mogaruke @mandylove1000 

You want to be tagged? Shoot me an ask or a message and I’ll add you!

#Rebound Girl #jensen ackles x reader #Jensen ackles #jensen ross ackles #supernatural jensen ackles #jensen ackles imagine #spn #spn fanfic #spn reader insert #spn rpf #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural rpf #supernatural reader insert #jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #reader insert #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #castiel #katies 1k writing challenge