#i was reading 19 days and having feelings about guys who suffered wearing white

[arunneronthird]

i wanted to draw tim in white cause its such a soft color in contrast to someone who suffered so much, then was immediately told he looks like hes in a 90s boyband

#tim drake #robin #red robin #batman #dc comics #injury #i was reading 19 days and having feelings about guys who suffered wearing white #but no i cannot dream so fuck my drag i guess #jk i think he looks cool anyway #my art #ladies. gentlemen. you have eaten well.

[cimmunist]

Decided to make a comparison between my usual interpretation of Cimmerian, the one from my (and my friend's, @bluethepearldiver ) main AU, Gods and Pawns, and the @ask-dr-cimmerian version of him. You can read more in-detail explanations under the cut, but avoid the blog version if you don't want spoilers. I'm gonna be doing Clef next, who arguably has more design changes than the golden good boy.

The one on the right is the @ask-dr-cimmerian version, but I drew him with his natural hair and eye colour, he usually wears coloured lenses and dyes his hair.

GaP/Usual interpretation of Cimmerian:

Species: Most of the time, regular, non-anomalous human. Becomes immortal later on. (Can vary depending on version of the AU)

Age: 37-45 during the main events of the AU

Gender: Trans man

Orientation: Bisexual/Bi ace

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Ukrainian/American, Ukrainian from grandfather's side, raised in the South of US

Job: Ethics Committee Chairman

Appearance: 5'8'' lanky man with little to no body hair, gains some weight as he ages. Naturally brown eyes and hair, dyes his bangs a darker colour. Has both eyes, but is blind in his left one. Doesn't mind his blind eye but wears an eye patch out of habit.

Personality & health:

Sly, cocky bastard of the ethics committee

Petty

Strict and kind of unpleasant if you're caught on the receiving end of his complaints, but generally an overall charming guy

Kind of a mess with social interactions because of social anxiety, but he does his best

Struggles with PTSD, but mostly has his mental health under control

Relationships:

Love interests: Usually Clef, Bright and Kondraki, but varies depending on the AU version (other notable examples would be North, Mikell, Pierre (friend's o5 oc) or Tiffany (my oc))

Family: Two biological mums, orphaned from an early age, adopted by his aunt and uncle whom he considers his parents. Lots of adoptive siblings/cousins. Has two half-siblings who hate his guts. Usually childless during the ages listed above, but not always, has a bunch of kids later on.

Friends (depends mostly on versions of the AU): Sheila & Philip Foster (college/close friends), Richard Gerald (childhood/college/work friend), Tiffany Okely (college/work friend), Han/2913 (close friend), Karlos North (close friend/ex-love interest), Loretto/035 (close work acquaintance), Pierre/o5-4 (boss/friend), Sophia Light (close work friend), Megan (ex/friend)

Other: Works closely with the o5 council, and as such has somewhat personal relationships with some of them. Has a father/son relationship with at least one or two of them (Philosopher Scientist and The Mailman have a custody battle, Philosopher's husband Founder stands awkwardly to the side). Has an (abusive) ex, Kennedy Howard.

Trivia:

Has amaxophobia, is slowly working through it

Very caring and fatherly in nature

Has a fear of eternity, kind of awkward since he becomes immortal, oops

Got picked for the Ethics Committee Chairman pretty early on to joining the Committee, was very stressed about it, not very popular with some elder members of the committee for this reason

Recovering alcoholic

Suffers from chronic pain

Allergic to fur

Very ND, learned to mask it over the years, but will fail to do so if he's extremely tired, distressed or in pain. Will just, forcing himself not to stim, making himself feel miserable at the end of the day.

Got his scars from a car crash

Blog version of Cimmerian:

Species: Demigod (credit to @bsathesilentartist for the idea and letting me use it)

Age: 37

Gender: Genderqueer, currently identifies as trans man

Orientation: Oriented ace, demi-biromantic

Pronouns: Currently he/him, later on any

Nationality: Ukrainian/Turkic, raised in South US

Job: Liaison for the Ethics Committee (notable places of work: Site-19, Site-88, Site-17)

Appearance: 5'7'' lanky man with little to no body hair. Naturally silver/white hair that he dyes brown (including the eyebrows). Blue/golden eye with central heterochromia, changes colours over time, hides it with brown contacts. Lost his left eye, wears glass eyes and/or eye patches. Likes to wear make-up.

Personality & health:

Grumpy, mostly at work, gets worse at the end of the day

Petty

Strict and serious at work

Used to be more outgoing and cheerful, nowadays more anxious and snappy

Struggles greatly with depression, PTSD and suicidal thoughts, which causes him to be overall unpleasant and tired most of the time, overall relapsed A LOT

Very devoted to the things he believes in and people he loves, would actually die for his family and friends

Actually pleasant to be around if you get to know him well

Sometimes kind of a big hypocrite

Relationships:

Romantic interests: Clef, later on Bright and Iceberg

Friends: Sheila & Philip Foster (college friends), Gerald (college friend), Tiffany Okely (close friend, met at work), Han/2913 (friend), Megan (friend/ex-girlfriend), Karlos North (close friend, ex-fling)

Family: Son of Ak Ana/White Mother. Adopted by two mortal women, orphaned early on, adopted again by his aunt and uncle who he considers his parents. Has a bunch of adopted siblings/cousins. Two adopted/half-siblings that hate his guts. Has 3 children. Eldest, adopted daughter May. Middle kid, Eliza, who he had with his abusive ex Kennedy Howard. Youngest kid, Melody, who he had with Clef.

Trivia:

Semi-omniscient, a walking lie detector, kind of a slow idiot who doesn't realise This Is Not Normal

A mutualistic relationship with water, so to speak, doesn't fully understand it or grasp it quite yet

Can just...breathe underwater, I guess

Has goose wings, babyyyy, he can't see them though (not yet

Has fucked up dreams where he relives events from different timelines (which can be quite traumatic), a side effect of his omniscience

Very stressed about his children being anomalous like him or Clef, keeps a copy of unredacted Foundation files as potential blackmail if things do south for them

Lots of allergies

Has amaxophobia, you will not catch him anywhere near a car, no thank you sir.

Has a fear of eternity and drowning/deep waters (yes, I know, ironic)

Used to be recovering alcoholic, relapsed hardcore lately

Suffers from chronic pain

Neurodivergent, but masks/pretends to be neurotypical, will fail at it spectacularly under distress, pain or if he's tired

All of the hate he feels for Bright is just 100% projection 💜

Somebody get this man a therapist

Got his scars from a car crash

Has a toad named Potato

#scp #scp foundation #spooky arts #dr cimmerian #yes i made blog cimmerian loterally just an inch shorter than his usual equivalent #what of it

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 17

A/N:  Soooo just a quick note that in celebration of my birthday on August 23rd, I’m going to be doing a DOUBLE UPLOAD WEEK NEXT WEEK.  That means you will be getting Chapter 18 on Monday August 24th and Chapter 19 on Thursday August 27th, both at 7:30pm EST as my gift to you.  YAY!  If you are able, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi at   ko-fi.com/spine_buster   if you appreciate it and like what you’re reading!  Otherwise, ENJOY! 

January 14th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was looking forward to the All-Star Break.  

With Kasha going to Aruba with her dad and the Leafs on the bye-week, she was looking forward to spending eight days completely alone and devoid of any work before she had to fly out with the team to Nashville.  Though she’d just had a mini-break at Christmas, this was much more substantial.  She knew she would be able to recharge and re-energize herself for the second half of the season – the second half she knew the team would have to push hard through to make the playoffs.  Because not making the playoffs was not an option.  

After what had happened four days ago after the Night With the Blue and White, Aberdeen had been in a weird place mentally.  Though she didn’t regret a thing that happened that night, and she didn’t regret anything she’d said to William, what happened between them was still wrong.  In every way, it was wrong.  And because it was so wrong, and it went against everything she believed in, every boundary she put up for herself and put so much time and effort into upholding, she knew nothing could come of it.  It couldn’t go any further.  They couldn’t become boyfriend and girlfriend.  They couldn’t date.  They couldn’t do anything.

They shouldn’t kiss again.

They shouldn’t have sex again.

But was that actually going to happen?  Or would their feelings get the best of them again and lure them further into a passionate affair they knew should not, could not happen?

Five days ago, she had been pretending to be aloof about William Nylander.  Four days ago, she’d had sex with him and told him she loved him.  Three days ago, they’d started texting regularly, after months of one-sided text messages on his part.  Two days ago, the team had suffered a bad loss to Florida 8-4, and they talked on the phone for what felt like the entire night about it when he got back into Toronto.  One day ago, he’d FaceTimed her after dinner and she answered the call.  Today, he promised her he’d score a goal for her and followed through with that promise.

Aberdeen was spiralling.  She was getting lost in William, and William was getting lost in her.  But she didn’t put a stop to absolutely any of it.  

After the game, she had to go back to her desk to pick up a few things she’d left there.  Brendan had come back with her, going into his office secretively and shuffling some things around.  Half of her wondered what he was looking for, while the other half didn’t care since she should be on her way home right now anyway.  

“Aberdeen?” he called from his office just as she had finished packing up her things.  “Can you bring me the proofs so I can take them home?”

Aberdeen grabbed them from the drawer in her desk and walked into his office.  He was looking over the score sheet when she held them in front of him, smiling, and he looked at her briefly before taking it.  “The All-Star Weekend is one of the most important weekends of my entire year.  We have three of the guys going.  I need the best possible team with me,” he said, barely looking at her, though his voice was steady.  “That no longer includes Peter.”

Aberdeen’s smile disappeared instantly.  She realized almost immediately what he was implying.  “Wait.  You want me to…no, Brendan.  I…” she exhaled sharply.  “Peter—Peter would die.  He’s been talking about the All-Star Weekend since Christmas.  I—I can’t do that, Brendan, I can’t,” she shook her head.  She knew how much it meant to him.  Meanwhile, she was looking forward to sleeping in.  They weren’t the same, and only one of them refused to go.

“If you don’t go, I’ll assume you’re not serious about your future…with the Toronto Maple Leafs or any other publication,” he said.  He finally looked at her, giving her an up-down she wasn’t familiar with at all.  Usually she got them for her looks or outfits – many girls did – but this was something completely different.  An up-down from a boss that said he was sure of his decision and nobody could convince him otherwise; like he was saying “Are you sure you want to say no to this” when they both knew she didn’t have the option.  “The decision is yours.”

She couldn’t believe him.  She couldn’t fucking believe that he had already made the decision for her.  She didn’t want to go.  She didn’t need to go.  Peter wanted to go.  Peter needed to go.  “But—”

“That’s all,” he said dismissively, like he usually did.  He gave her one last knowing look.  “Goodnight, Aberdeen.”

She stared at him for a brief moment before angrily turning on her heels and walking out of his office.  She couldn’t believe she was just put in that position.  There was no way she could say no after that, even if she’d wanted to.  She knew that it must have meant that she had done something right, after all the things she’d done wrong, but it was still taking an opportunity that wasn’t hers to take.  Peter went to the All-Star Game.  Peter mingled with all the players and GMs and Presidents that attended.  Not her.  She grabbed her jacket from her chair, threw it on herself, and threw her purse over her shoulder before walking out of the office.

She took the long way back to her apartment, despite the cold, to think things over.  What had made Brendan and Kyle come to that decision?  Who the hell brought it up?  Who agreed on it?  She needed answers that she’d never get.  Back in November, when Mike Babcock was fired and Brendan and Kyle thanked her for not leaking anything to the press, she’d told Kyle how she would never burn the bridge she had with the Leafs and how she wouldn’t take advantage of the team or someone for personal gain.  He’d said that she was young, but he appreciated someone with conviction.  Did she still have that conviction?  Did she still have that conviction now that she’d slept with William and put her job in jeopardy?  Did she still have that conviction now that she was following through with what was basically an affair with William, which was against personal beliefs and company policy?  Did she still have that conviction now that she was taking an opportunity from a co-worker, a friend, who had been nothing but nice to her and helped her along her rocky path instead of calling her Girl Friday and feeling her up in the staff kitchen?  

She didn’t know what to think anymore.  In many ways, she didn’t know who she was anymore.  She’d completely lost any sense of old Aberdeen.  But the problem was, this – what she was feeling right now – wasn’t new Aberdeen.  It wasn’t.  She was still Aberdeen Bloom, just another version of her.  She’d always had this in her.  She’d always had the drive, and the work ethic, and the want and need to impress the people around her.  The outcome had just been different.  Before, it was good grades on essays or being published in Acta Victoriana and the Hart House Review.  Now, the outcome was taking opportunities from others – others she could put a face, name, and personality to.  Others she called co-workers.  Others she called friends.  Before, they were nameless and faceless.  

Now they were named Peter.  

She didn’t know how the news would be broken to Peter, or when, but she knew he wouldn’t be happy about it.  Maybe it had already happened, for all she knew.  She just hoped she didn’t have to be the one to do it.

***

January 16th, 2020

It was maybe an hour before the game when Aberdeen felt the energy in the office shift.  Kyle had just left Brendan’s office and had spoken with Aberdeen briefly about the happenings of the day, making sure she’d be in the box during the game against Calgary that night.  Brendan had followed him out, for the most part, and when Aberdeen noticed him walking back, he looked serious.  

“Aberdeen, don’t forget to tell Peter,” he said before he popped into his office.  He gave her one last look.  “Do it now,” he encouraged, closing the door behind him.

She exhaled sharply.  She was going to kill him.  So they hadn’t told him, and they’d left it to her to do their dirty laundry.  She was going to kill them both – she liked Kyle, but she’d kill him too.  Now she had to find Peter, get him alone somewhere, and break the news to him.  She got up from her desk and began to look for him – it didn’t take long, thankfully, because she found him scurrying through the hallways, like he always was.  

When he noticed her, he gave her a quick nod.  “Hi, sorry, I know I’m late with the report Brendan wants—”

“No, Peter—” she tried to begin as she got closer to him.

“It’s just Kyle wanted a new scarf from Hermes, and he did tell me yesterday, but I forgot like an idiot and so I freaked out, of course—”

“Peter—Peter, I need to talk to you.  There’s something I have to talk to you about,” Aberdeen stressed.  

Peter calmed down slightly.  “Well, I hope it’s not another Brendan or Kyle problem, because I’ve got so much to deal with before I go.  I swear to God, I—”

“Peter,” she said sternly.  “Can we…can we go inside your office?  Please?”

Seeing how skittery she was, Peter agreed and led her into his office and closed the door behind him.  He set his things down on his desk before turning to face her.  “What’s going on, Aberdeen?”

She hadn’t prepared anything to say, so she knew she was going to just word vomit once the moment actually came.  She’d tried to think of ways to say what she needed to say, but nothing came out right, and nothing softened the blow.  She knew that no matter what she said or how she said it, Peter would be angry.  “You’re not going to the All-Star Game,” she said plainly.

Peter looked taken aback by the statement, like he didn’t understand.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re not—listen, after the game against New Jersery, Brendan called me into his office and told me that he and Kyle decided I was going, not you,” she said.  She didn’t want to say Brendan’s exact words, how he needed ‘the best possible team’ and that it ‘no longer included Peter’.  That would be too harsh.  

“What do you…I…” he couldn’t formulate any words.  The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.  “Did you say no?” he asked, his tone suddenly changing from one of confusion to one of anger.

“He was on the verge of practically firing me if I said no!” she exclaimed.  It was somewhat true, but mostly a lie.  He was basically dangling every opportunity she could take advantage of in the future in terms of writing over her head.  In Aberdeen’s mind, that was worse than firing.

“I don’t care if he was going to fire you or beat you with a red-hot poker!  You should have said no!” Peter exclaimed.

“Peter, I didn’t have a choice!”

“Oh, please!”

“You know how Brendan is!” she tried to reason.

“That is a pathetic excuse!” he turned away from her, so angry he felt ready to burst.  Aberdeen didn’t know what to do.  She knew he would react angrily, but she didn’t know just how angrily.  She also didn’t expect the blame game to be put on her rather than Brendan and Kyle – the two men who actually made the decision.  He was beside his desk at this point, having paced for a while to cool down.  “Do you know what really just…gets me about this whole thing?  It’s that, you know, you’re the one who said you don’t really care about this stuff, and you don’t really care about hockey.  You want to be a writer.  What a pile of bullshit!”

Aberdeen winced.  “Peter, I know you’re mad.  I don’t blame you—”

“Face it, Aberdeen.  You sold your soul the day those boys took you out to dinner in St. John’s.  I saw it,” he accused, his voice so scathing that a lump formed in Aberdeen’s throat.  “And you know what really just kills me about this whole thing, is the people you are going to meet…I mean, you don’t deserve to!  You don’t even like hockey, for Christ’s sake!  God it’s so unfair!”

Being chosen over him was one thing.  But being told by Peter she didn’t deserve it was another thing.  She tried to remember that he was really angry, that his dream had essentially been snatched away from him, and that’s why he was saying all these mean things, but it got to her.  She’d been working hard since the day she stepped into the office, and he’d been helping her, and even though she had her fair share of gaffes and slipups along the way, it didn’t cover up the fact that she worked hard.  In his anger, Peter didn’t see that.  “Peter—”

“Just go,” he said, his voice softer as he crossed his arms across his chest.  

“Peter, I—”

“I said go!”

Aberdeen sighed.  At that moment, she knew there was nothing she could say, and nothing she could do to calm him down or soften the blow.  He was angry at her, and he’d stay angry at her for the foreseeable future, until he got over her going to the All-Star game – if he ever got over it.  

***

The boys had lost 2-1 in a shootout.  William had scored the only true goal of the game, but she was so despondent she almost didn’t even care.  The conversation she’d had with Peter kept playing over and over in her head.  Brendan could tell, apparently, because he let her leave right after the game.  

It was barely less than five minutes from when she got home that her phone buzzed on her kitchen countertop.  She’d placed it there so she could take a swig from the bottle of wine she and Kasha had opened last night.  

can u buzz me in? don’t want to wake kasha

She pressed the button and kept the condo door open with her boot.  When William walked through the door, still in his game day suit, she was taking another long swig.  His eyebrows immediately furrowed.  “Are you alright?” he closed the door and locked it behind him.  

She didn’t know how to answer that question.  She gulped her wine.  “I’m going to St. Louis.”

“You’re going to St. Louis for the All-Star Game?”

“Mhm.  It just happened,” she nodded her head.

“That’s one of the biggest weekends of the year.”

“Mhm.”

“I mean, are you going with Brendan, Kyle, and the guys?”

“Mhm.”

She could tell he was trying to piece together why this was affecting her so much – why it was making her swig a bottle of red wine and not bother getting a glass.  “I thought the All-Star Game was a big deal for Peter, or…” he tried to clarify.

God.  If even Willy knew about how much it meant to Peter, then it was an even bigger deal than she thought.  “Great.  Now you’re gonna give me a hard time too?” she demanded, setting the wine down on the counter before stomping her way towards her bedroom.  

“Hey hey hey, Aberdeen.  Aberdeen—”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay?  Brendan asked me and I couldn’t say no.  He was dangling every future opportunity for writing over my head,” she whipped around to talk to him.  

William had dropped his bag by the door before he approached her, wrapping his arms around her.  “I’m not trying to give you a hard time,” he said softly.  “I just…that’s news, that’s all.  The guys know that it’s usually Peter that goes.  But if you’re going now you must have done something right.”

“But I don’t know what I did,” she melted into him.  She could feel herself get emotional.  “And I don’t want to take that opportunity away from Peter.  He lives for All-Star Weekend.”

“Minskatt, you didn’t take an opportunity away from Peter, you earned an opportunity to go,” he encouraged her to think of it differently.  

She sighed.  She didn’t really want to talk about it anymore – talking about it more just made it worse for her.  She wondered if Peter was throwing plates against the wall in his apartment.  “I think I’m more upset about not getting a full eight days off,” she mumbled, causing William to giggle.  She looked up at him as he still had his arms wrapped around her comfortingly.  “Can we cuddle?”

William smiled down at her.  “I even brought a proper change of clothes this time.”

They made their way into her bedroom, William bringing his bag with him.  They changed into their pyjamas.  Minerva was already rolled up in her cat bed, but when she saw them, she meowed and jumped on the bed.  As Aberdeen looked at William move about the room, she realized that she felt so comfortable already, so at home in her bedroom that he moved around without any hesitation.  He even pulled back the covers himself, knowing she wouldn’t mind, and got in first, holding the covers up for her to get in.  Minerva ended up curling up at his feet.  Even her damn cat couldn’t get enough of him.  

She stood hesitantly.  She stared at him.  “Just cuddling.”

William stared back at her.  He nodded his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “Just cuddling.”

She got in.  William draped the comforter over her and they got comfortable.  Almost immediately, she melted into his touch as he wrapped his arms around her, his big body engulfing hers just the way she liked it.  She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of it.  They closed their eyes and settled into a comfortable silence briefly.  “I’ve never even seen your place before…” Aberdeen thought out loud.  They’d only ever met up at her place.

“It’s your typical place,” he said.  “Kitchen, bedroom, whatever.  I haven’t bought a place here yet so nothing is really my own.  I’ve got a bigger bed,” he joked.

“Everybody has a bigger bed than I do.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he dismissed it.  She felt his lips on her neck as he kissed her tenderly.  “I like cuddling.”

***

January 21st, 2020

Aberdeen had spent the last three days alone writing.  

Kasha had gone on a last-minute trip to Aruba with her dad, so Aberdeen took the time in solitude with Minerva to write anything and everything that came to her mind.  A lot of it was about the last six months.  Not about her illicit love affair with William, but more important things: growing up, facing the truth about yourself, getting your first ‘big girl’ job and having to survive in a male-dominated environment.  More than anything, Aberdeen liked to think it was about the overarching and universal truths people in their early 20s had once they left university and entered the real world, where things were tricky and few people were nice and there was almost always an overwhelming sense of ‘What the fuck am I doing?’.  

William had gone to Augusta, Georgia, to golf with some of the boys.  He’d texted her when he got there, plus some photos of the golf course and some selfies he snuck while the other guys teed off.  She mostly sent him back pictures of her laptop with a Word document open, or pictures of Minerva sprawled out on her bed or couch.  At night they’d keep up a conversation, when he wasn’t on the course.  She wondered if any of the guys wondered who he kept texting all time, or if he was able to keep in discreet.

She missed him.

She hated to admit it, but she did.  She missed his stupid blonde hair and his stupid scruffy beard and his stupid thick body and his stupid tender touch and his stupid laugh that was like Beethoven’s 5th Symphony to her stupid ears.  She missed cuddling with him.  She missed seeing him at the rink.  She missed everything about him even though she shouldn’t.  

When she finished editing one of her personal essays, she decided to call it a night.  As she cleaned up the kitchen, putting the last of her dishes in the dishwasher, there was a knock at her door.  She paused briefly because she wasn’t expecting anyone.  

She looked through the peephole, only to see William in one of his absolutely stellar (read: awful) casual traveling outfits.  She opened the door.  She saw he even still had his suitcase, telling her he came straight from the airport.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked, finding herself moving out of the way for him.  When she shut the door behind him, she ended up with her back against it.

He walked in to her apartment with ease, wheeling in his bag and leaving it by the closet that held the washer and dryer.  “You said Kasha is in Aruba with her dad.”

“Yeah…”

“And it’s the bye-week.  I just got back from Augusta.”

“Yeah…”

“So…that means we can be alone,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re really going there, aren’t you?” she asked as she watched him approach her.

“Did you expect anything less?” he asked, so close that now she was trapped between his body and the door.  

She shook her head.  “No.  No I didn’t.”

And then he kissed her.  And he couldn’t stop.  And she kissed him.  And she couldn’t stop.  And he pinned her against the door, his knee going between her legs as he raised her hands above her head briefly before bringing his own hands down so he could pick her up.  She stuck her tongue down his throat.  He squeezed her ass.  She wrapped his legs around him.  

He sighed contently, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  “God I miss you so much,” he mumbled against her lips.  

“Me too,” she admitted out loud as he bit down on the skin of her neck.  

“Bedroom?” he asked quickly.

Aberdeen should have said no.  Should have.  But instead, she nodded her head.  

***

January 22nd, 2020

The notebook was wide open on the coffee table in the living room, a blue Muji pen in the spine, the bookmark ribbons sprawled out.  It was the only thing on the table besides a giant three-wick candle.  William knew he shouldn’t look at it.  It was the middle of the night, for heaven’s sake.  But as he drank his glass of water, he became more and more curious as to the contents.  The pages seemed full of beautiful cursive.

So he sat down on the couch.  He picked up the notebook.

Maple Leaf Forever

The job interview went horribly.  I was sure I’d offended Brendan Shanahan, president of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  To make matters worse, the outgoing executive assistant told me, before I entered his office, that I was deeply unqualified for the job.  I didn’t watch hockey; I had no clue who Mats Sundin was.  

It came as a shock, then, when Brendan called me back into his office and told me I was his new assistant.  

William read on, completely enamoured with the words he was reading on the page.  He flipped through the notebook and read the entire personal essay.  Then he flipped backwards to the previous piece she wrote, and read that too.  He saw the scribbles and the crossing out of entire lines and paragraphs.  He saw planned out notes.  He saw poetry.

Sometimes William looks at me like he’s the spoon and I’m the dish of ice cream.  I wonder if he sees that, in my weak moments, I look at him the same way……….

I’ve gotten used to the sounds of the blades scratching the ice.  Quickly, it has become one of my favourite sounds……….

I am a daughter of immigrants. I am a granddaughter of the Iranian Revolution. I am a daughter of The Troubles. Revolution and change course through my veins……….

He saw and read so much of her writing that he felt like he knew her so much more now.  There were so many things about her, so many things in her mind, that she hadn’t told him yet; so many things he longed to learn so he could know her fully and completely.  He didn’t want to know surface-level Aberdeen – he knew that Aberdeen already.  He wanted to know what was inside Aberdeen.  The deeper parts of her.  The parts that he could love more.  The parts that would make him even more hopelessly in love with her.

No wonder she was already published in those two literary journals.  And no wonder she wanted to be a writer.  She was a great writer.  She had a way with words.  He couldn’t believe that after sending out her work everywhere, nobody chose to publish it.  They were stupid.  She was fantastic.  

And he wasn’t just saying that because he was in love with her.

***

January 23rd, 2020

“Have you ever thought about sending your stuff to Toronto Life magazine?”

William asked the question as he sat opposite of Aberdeen in her bathtub.  Their bodies were submerged, a bath bomb thrown in, and everything was quiet.  Everything.  The only sounds made were the slight splashes of water if they moved a hand or if William grabbed at her leg.  They had been staring at each other for a while, the heat of the water still soothing them and their bodies. 

Aberdeen stared at him.  “Of course I have.”

“Have…have you already?” he asked timidly, not wanting to bring it up in case she did and they rejected her.

“No,” she said.  He was relieved.  “Their writing is, like, top tier.  I don’t think I’m there yet.  Even the personal essay submissions they have in the back of the magazine are phenomenal.  The stories are amazing.  I don’t think anybody wants to hear from a 21 year old single white female.”

“But your voice is so amazing,” he said without thinking.

“How would you know?  You’ve never read my writing.”

There was a silence between them.  He knew he couldn’t tell her that he’d read her writing when she was asleep after they’d had sex.  He also knew he couldn’t lie to her, not while they were in the tub together during such an intimate moment, and not ever.  “Come here,” he said.  She hesitated.  “Come on.  Come here.”

Aberdeen shifted in her bathtub slowly, so no water would spill out, and moved so that she was cuddled against William now, her back against his chest.  She felt his strong arms wrap around her, one right beneath her breasts, the other dangerously close to her core.  If the hot water hadn’t relaxed her enough, his hands on her breast and near her core definitely did.  She sighed happily as she felt him massage her breast and pinch her nipple.  She felt his cheek against the crown of her head before her tucked his face into the crook of her neck, giving her a light kiss on her shoulder.  “I never want you thinking that your writing isn’t good enough to be submitted somewhere.  You should be submitting it everywhere.  Everything you write,” he whispered softly.

“But Willy, you’ve never—”

“Listen,” he cut her off gently.  “I saw one of your notebooks on the coffee table the other night, and I couldn’t help myself.  I’m sorry.  But you’re good, Aberdeen.  You’re really good.  You write and it just flows, and I…I don’t know how to explain it in any other way, because I’m not as good as you, I’m not good with words and speaking and stuff, but it was amazing.”

Aberdeen stayed silent.  William was nervous, having admitted to snooping and reading her writing – at least some of it – but the fact that her body didn’t stiffen when he did admit it gave him a glimmer of hope.  Then again, she could just have been processing it and getting ready to throw him out of her apartment naked with his clothes thrown out the window.  When she finally spoke, she said something William wasn’t expecting.  “I just don’t think anybody would want to hear what I have to say.”

He shook his head, giving her another kiss on her shoulder.  “I think everybody should hear what you have to say.”

“You’re just saying that cause you’re feeling me up right now,” she said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

William smiled.  “Am not.  You’re so good, Aberdeen.  Fuck anybody who has ever told you otherwise.”

Aberdeen knew what he meant by that.  She knew he didn’t mean fuck the editors or the copywriters – they were just doing their job.  What he was saying instead was fuck any person in her life that told her she couldn’t make a career out of writing.  Fuck Zane.  Fuck Corey.  Fuck any other guy who made her feel horrible about herself, who belittled her ambitions, who thought she should pursue something different.  Fuck them all.  She craned her neck to look back at him, and brought her hand up to caress his face as she kissed him.  “I can read you some more when we get out of here,” she whispered, her lips still close to his.  “If you want.”

“I’d love that.”

***

“More.”

William stared directly into Aberdeen’s eyes as they cuddled on her couch.  “More?” she questioned.

“More,” he affirmed.  She began reading her writing again.

***

“More.”

Aberdeen hooked her leg around his waist as they lay in her bed together.  “More?” she questioned.

“More,” he affirmed.  She began to read her writing again.

***

“More.”

William looked up at Aberdeen as she straddled him.  Pants firmly on.  He just wanted to sit this way.  He was intensely comfortable with her on top of him.  She didn’t seem to mind either, especially since his hands found her thighs.  

“If I read you any more, I’m going to have to start taking out my high school diaries,” she joked.

“Then do it,” he squeezed her thighs and dragged his hands up to her hips.  “I want more.”

“Willyyyyy…” she dragged his name out, the smile still on her face as she bent down to give him a kiss.  Her old notebook from university was between their bodies.

“More,” he mumbled against her lips.  He genuine wanted to hear more, but he couldn’t stop kissing her.  He could feel the old notebook press against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, and could hear it fall to the floor as he moved to pin her underneath him.

***

January 24th, 2020

“It’s going to be fun.  I promise,” William said as he peppered Aberdeen’s face with kisses, unable to let her go just yet even though their shoes were on and their bags were packed, the early morning sun peeking through the windows of her apartment.  “You’re going to meet so many cool people.”

Aberdeen sighed.  She knew this was an amazing opportunity, and she was going to take full advantage of it, but she wanted just a bit more time with William.  All they had done over the past three days was eat good takeout and have great sex.  Oh, and read her writing, of course.  It quickly became her favourite three days of the break – so much so that she didn’t want it to end.  Whenever she was with William, she didn’t want to be brought back down to reality, back down to face the fact that what they were doing was wrong.

“You just gotta promise some other guy doesn’t whisk you away to another team,” William added.

Aberdeen giggled.  “Please.  Like that would ever happen.”

“I don’t know, minskatt.  You’re really cute.  I might have to ask Auston or Fred to keep an eye on the other guys.”

She chuckled, burying her head into his chest.  She couldn’t let go of him either.  She didn’t want to – at least not yet.  “Are you gonna miss me?”

William didn’t even answer.  Instead, he leaned down and gave her a long, drawn out kiss, one that made her sigh into his mouth and left her begging for more.  It answered the question for her.  He watched as she licked her lips.  “You’ll be in Nashville?” he asked.  She nodded.  “Dallas?” he asked.  She nodded again.  “Can I come see you after the game?” he asked one more time.

She knew that meant he wanted to come to her hotel room.  He’d snuck in quite easily before, obviously, and nobody had suspected anything, but they still had to be extremely careful.  “We’ll see,” she said, not wanting to confirm or deny.  For all she knew she’d have a room next to Brendan.  

William accepted what she was prepared to give him.  “We’ll see.”

She looked down at her watch.  Brendan and Lou were supposed to be there any minute.  In less than six hours she’d be in St. Louis, and in just less than twelve she’d be watching the Skills Competition.  “I should start heading down,” she said, even though she was reluctant to do so.  “Remember to wait until I text to come down and leave.”

“Do you have to go?” he asked sheepishly.  

She smiled.  She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him one last time, giving him the same long, drawn out kiss he’d just given her.  “Bye Willy.”

William bit his lip.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He smiled.  It wasn’t just a one-off.  “Bye minskatt.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” she said as she opened the door to her condo.  

He was holding on to her hand until it was too far away for him to grasp.  “Impossible.”

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander fic #william nylander fan fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fan fic #william nylander blurb #toronto maple leafs blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fan fic #nhl blurb #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fan fic #hockey blurb #the president wears prada series

[adrienne-fh]

From the desk of...

Day 1- Introduce yourself! What’s some basic info you’d like to share about yourself? Also! What are you studying? (If you’re in college, what’s your major? which semester are you in?)

I am adrienne-fh. I am a non-traditional adult student attempting to complete my first Bachelor's Degree. I am a student at Oregon State University on hiatus. I studied Psychology and Statistics. I hope to resume soon.

I enjoy singing, reading, writing, twitch streaming. Starcraft, Hearthstone, World of Warcraft - RPGs, RTS, and fighting games are fun. I also enjoy Chess. I wear monochromatic outfits with an eye for textures. I’m a curly girl. All-natural everything but wear wigs as my hair grows back from a buzz cut.

I am an ordained minister through Universal Life Church. It is much more than being a wedding officiant! I offer a host of ministerial services including ceremonies for baptism, the dying, and funerals.

I am a person with chronic illness: Fibromyalgia and PTSD. This causes a range of difficulties, the hardest to deal with being pain and exhaustion. I’m a walking pin cushion with a pillow.

Day 2- If you’ve chosen a major, why did you decide on it? If you’re in any other grade, what field/major interests you the most?

I am interested in human behavior and high performers and the dark triad. I love to understand how our mind works. Because I am interested in psychometrics and informatics, I am developing my skill in statistics and programming.

I enjoy human-computer interaction and Natural Language Processing. AI and its impact on what it means to be a working adult are intriguing. Children are at an advantage, learning more skills sooner. All this, combined with wanting to be a part of the new wave of IoT and AI, starts with understanding who we are to appreciate who we are becoming. The impact on our decision-making and empathy is stunning.

I am a Mental Health Peer Supporter seeking provisional certification. I am also seeking ways to improve my pastoral counseling services. Psychology is key in many endeavors, even writing complex characters!

Day 3- Have you done a challenge before? If so, how was it? If not, what are you expecting to get out of this experience?

Yes! 100 Days of Productivity. I forget to post sometimes. I would like to develop consistency and use my blog to keep me accountable. Because I’m not so broken up about not always completing what I set out to do, I focus more on the joy of sharing my story with others and the connections I could make.

Day 4- For my researching fellows, what are you researching? If you’re not currently researching, what is the topic within your field that you’re most passionate about?

Mainly, the effectiveness of Online Mental Health Communities. How to make Online Health Communities work better. How we interact with Online Mental Health Communities and how they affect the way we feel and behave. How can Fountain House use its Virtual Club House to improve life satisfaction amongst members? 

I also research trends in AI, Beauty, and Goal Achievement.

Day 5- Tag 3 studyblrs that you like seeing on your dashboard.

@a-medstudents-journey 

@theologei

@a-study-in-dante

Day 6- Quickly! tag urself!

five pm. warm smiles. classy. aesthetic Instagram feed. anklets. soft music. yoga. face masks. @adrienne-fh

Day 7-  Some of your music faves right now (let’s say up to 5)

ABBA, Madonna, Vienna Teng, Ashnikko, Billie Ellish

Day 8- International Women’s Day! What’s your take on feminism?

It is obviously not much of a choice to be respectful to anyone, no matter gender or preference. We can complain about the conversations we are having or do more to have them. We have to treat each other better - humans in general.

Day 9- Write something that you’d like to tell yourself.

You can do it! You are doing it! It is getting better! Focus. Get rid of all the junk! You deserve the love and life you keep giving to everyone else.

Day 10- Tag someone whose aesthetic you love seeing on your feed.

@justanotherstudyblrinthecrowd

Day 11- What’s something that you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t got the chance to do so?

Stand in front of the Louvre. Visit the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família. Fall in deep mutual kind and compassionate love with lots of romance and care. Publish a print book - short stories, essays, novels, novellas, and of course poetry. I have a lot to share!

Day 12- Are you more into plants or flowers? What’s your fave type?

I really love succulents. The best of both. I really really love moss!

Day 13- Tell us the most eye-opening book you’ve read.

Oh. That’s really hard. I think of The Da Vinci Code and The Human Stain. Any book by Jonathan Safran Foer, particularly Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.

Day 14-  What are some of the reasons you love yourself/should love yourself?

I am a divine child of light that believes in the cosmos lining up and giving all of us a big wink with a smile. I’m silly and playful. I’m dead serious smart, psychic, and a crazy protector of love and personal freedom. I fight away evil with nurturing and honesty. I’m a bit crazy and zany. I’m bizarre. I’m pretty much free-spirited and open with an edge.

Day 15- Tag someone who you think would get along just right with you.

@manuxstudies​

Day 16- What’s your go-to coffee/tea/beverage order?

Venti Flat White with sugar in the raw or Keto-Friendly Stevia Drops. Both are delicious. 

Day 17- Share with us your feel-good playlist.

Deep Focus

Brain Food

The Show Must Go On (Curated)

Day 18- Tag someone whose blog you constantly check.

@bakinginthewoods​

Day 19- Tell us about your online experience (is it sometimes overwhelming? Do you feel like it's a great way to get in touch with people? What’s something that you love seeing on here?)

Tumblr is soothing. Other online communities, not so much. I have gotten bullied, cyberattacked, stolen from, and had trouble with employment because of online hijinks based on Gossip and “Mean-Girling”. People who are stressed out and have a reputation to uphold lash out at people who are viewed as a threat (for whatever reason). We, as netizens, know that the whole “Bro Culture” thing can be toxic. I experienced gossip on steroids that resulted in financial loss, illness, and loss of employment. Hard to prove. However, finding and creating healthy spaces online that encourage creativity and sharing is possible. Some of my favorite supportive communities are Github, Quora, and Deviant Art. If you know of any, share a link in my comments. 

Day 20- What are three things that inspire you?

Music. I love deep lyrics and heavy percussion and bass. My journal entries. I love reading what I'm actually thinking (same with Vlogs). People-watching. You learn a lot about what matters watching our interactions silently.

Day 21- Share a quote that speaks to you.

“He who fears he will suffer already suffers because he fears.”

— Michel De Montaigne.

Day 22- What’s your comfort food/ comfort routine for sad days?

Peanut Butter and Jelly with a tall glass of cow milk.

Day 23- What’s some random miscellaneous piece of information that you just happen to know?

Kirk Hammett of Metallica met his wife while a film, jazz, and Asian studies student at SFU in CA.

Day 24- Share with us your favorite word (it can be in any language).

Pus. It's the Swedish word for Kiss. Bra, also Swedish, means good.

Day 25- Tag someone who has great text posts

@adrienne-fh

Day 26- What has been your best zoomester experience so far?

I can’t say which. This is pretty nice.

Day 27- If you’re about to graduate, what’s something that you’ll miss from school? If you aren’t about to graduate, tell us something you really love about school.

I enjoy reading and understanding difficult concepts. What a joy after a few hours of reading to finally understand!

Day 28- Spill the tea about the things that you’ve done during the zoomester (Online shopping, courses taken, any hobby)

I’ve doodled. I’ve zoned out. I’ve watched Twitch.

Day 29- Quick! Name your own aesthetic! or alternatively, what’s an aesthetic you’d like to try out?

Romanti-goth, Vamp, Cyber Punk (kinda). Pinup.

Day 30- What’s the best advice someone has given you?

Fake it till you make it. Show up and never give up. Burn your boats!

Day 31-  Send three people some uplifting messages!

@ava-embers Write more sexy stuff doll face.

@studyingwhilepsychotic smooches to my soul sister. Rage on wild child.

@twitchb-tch Shut up! You are too cute. You guys rock!

#zoomester studyblr challenge #studyblr #positive mental attitude #career #education #mental health #fibromyalgia

[softspeirs]

I was tagged by @rhovanian, thanks babe!

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? White and gold marble.

2. name a food you never eat. I hate kale. 

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? I’m always cold. I have a space heater in my office and when I’m WFH I’m usually draped in a blanket.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? Just pulling in the parking lot at work, guzzling iced coffee!

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? Classic Hershey’s.

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? I’m exposing myself. Listen...... you guys don’t know this side of me, but I’m one of those people who screams at sports. I live in Detroit so I am Suffering TM but I’ve been a season ticket holder for the Tigers (baseball) and Red Wings (hockey) and those are my faves. (By faves I mean the ones that make me scream the most) If you really want to experience this firsthand you can follow me on Twitter (katiiemb) but... you’ve been warned.

Under the cut for more!

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? “Have a good day” - I live with my parents and I was leaving for work.

8. what is your favorite ice cream? Mint chocolate chip.

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? Iced vanilla latte. 

10. do you like your wallet? Sure? I have 2. One smaller one that fits in my pocket for when I don’t carry my bag, and a larger folding one for everything else. I don’t really go to stores anymore though!

11. what is the last thing you ate? Peanut butter M&M cookie.

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Nope.

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? I watched 2 seconds of the Yankees/Rays game from last night before bed.

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? EXTRA butter.

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? I don’t even know. My volleyball colleagues, I think. (I coach high school girls and we were bitching about our teams lmao)

16. ever been camping? Yes! My family is very outdoorsy. I go camping a few times every year (when we’re not in a pandemic)

17. do you take vitamins? I’m supposed to take a multi but I’m bad at remembering.

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? Nope.

19. do you have a tan? I have a lingering tan from the summer but I am retreating back to my Scandinavian pale.

20. do you prefer Chinese or pizza? Pizza.

21. do you drink your soda through a straw? Nope.

22. what color socks do you usually wear? Black.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I always go 5 over. Sometimes 10. But I try to use cruise control and take it easy lol.

24. what terrifies you? Uh - a lot. Lol. Death. Failure. Fear that my life will mean nothing and I’ll be alone forever :)

25. look to your left, what do you see? My desk phone. Exciting.

26. what chore do you hate most? It’s a tie between doing the dishes and folding my laundry.

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? I like it!

28. what’s your favorite soda? I don’t drink normal soda, I drink Zevia (sugar free) - I like black cherry the best!

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru because I hate social interaction and try to keep it to a minimum.

30. what’s your favorite number? 9.

31. who’s the last person you talked to? My mom.

32. favorite meat? Chicken.

33. last song you listened to? Fields of Gold by Drew & Ellie Holcomb.

34. last book you read? Book I’m currently reading is “Munich” by Robert Harris, but the last book I completed was “Blood Heir” by  Amélie Wen Zhao.

35. favorite day of the week? Friday!

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? No :(

37. how do you like your coffee? Sweet. Oat milk and at least 2 sugars, please.

38. favorite pair of shoes? Slippers. :)

39. time you normally get up? I’m supposed to get up at 5:45 for work everyday but I usually get up at 6, and on weekends I’m normally up between 8 and 8:30.

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? I like both, but I hate getting up early. So, sunsets.

41. how many blankets on your bed? 3? Duvet, and 2 throw blankets.

42. describe your kitchen plates. Round. White with scalloped edges.

43. describe your kitchen at the moment. Small. Cramped. Many many utensils.

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? I don’t drink often at all. If I have something, probably a hard seltzer.

45. do you play cards? Not really.

46. what color is your car? Silver.

47. can you change a tire? No and my Dad is embarrassed about it :’)

48. your favorite state or province? I like Michigan because I’m from here but my favorite place I’ve visited is probably Colorado.

49. favorite job you’ve had? I have never had a favorite job. I don’t like to work, haha. My last job was in landscaping which was.... fine. I got to be outdoors. But it was hard work. My current job is marketing which is also fine. Mostly I just want to hit the lotto.

I’ll tag @basilone @mercurygray @mrsalwayswrite @easy-company-tradition (if you want to - feel free to ignore!)

#tag game

[metalbatandzenko]

All of them. All the questions.

oof

1. Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed?

I have sliding doors on my closet so it’s one open one closed.

2. Do You Have Freckles?

Nope!

3. Can You Whistle?

Nope (:

4. Last Song You Listened To.

I...don’t remember lmao, I think it was 6 Inch by Beyonce

5. What Is Your Favorite Color?

I don’t know if I have one tbh.

6. Relationship Status.

Currently juggling seven reply guys bc rona has everyone acting out of line, but single.

7. What Is The Temperature Right Now?

46º

8. Did You Wake Up Cranky?

Yes sdkjfhdlkf

9. How Many Followers?

215.

10. Zodiac Sign.

Aries/Aries/Cancer.

11. What Is Your Eye Color?

Brown.

12. Take A Vitamin Daily?

No.

13. Do You Sing In The Shower?

Yes, usually it’s Mitski or songs from musicals because you know. Former theater kid.

14. What Books Are You Reading?

The Chronology of Water by Lidia Yuknavitch.

15. Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14.

“As in earlier days” from the poem The Walk by Thomas Hardy

16. Favorite Anime?

OPM is the only anime I watch. Being Japanese American and fem aligned means having. Not great associations with anime tbh.

17. Last Person You Cried In Front Of?

I honestly can’t remember the last time I cried in front of someone

WAIT YES I DO

It was November 23rd and my little cousin and I watched Over the Garden Wall. Both of us cried at the end.

18. Do You Collect Anything?

I have a knife collection and an old rock collection from when I was younger. I also unintentionally have a major makeup collection. My lipstick collection is borderline embarrassing. In my defense it started in 7th grade.

19. What Did You Have For Lunch?

I uh. I didn’t have lunch skfjhdsljfh

20. Do You Dance In The Car?

I do!

21. Favorite Animal?

Dude I fucking love crows.

22. Do You Watch The Olympics?

Some of them! My mom was really athletic growing up (as in one of those kids that plays a sport every season in high school), so she watches a lot of them. We tend to watch figure skating (which I know little about but have strong opinions on), gymnastics, synchronized swimming, track, and judo.

23. What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed?

Usually I’m in bed by 11 but I don’t go to sleep until 2am. Recently I’ve been getting to sleep at 7am.

24. Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now?

It is currently three in the morning so no akslkjsahd

25. Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean?

Ocean. I grew up in Northern California near the coast, and now I’m in a landlocked state. And you can kind of feel it, you know? The air doesn’t smell like salt and redwoods, the mountains aren’t there to hold up the sky so you just feel it pressing down on your chest. I miss the ocean.

26. Favorite Tumblr Blog?

I don’t know if I have a favorite. erikkillmongerdontpullout is funny and insightful, and I love dostoevskydocs’ poetry compilations.

27. Bottled Water Or Tap Water?

I grew up somewhere with access to really good tap water, so I’ll go with that.

28. What Makes You Happy?

Writing, spending time with friends, the feeling of dappled sunlight through the tree canopy.

29. Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

30. Do You Study Better With Or Without Music?

With :)

31. Dogs Or Cats?

Dogs but I love cats too!

32. If You Were A Crayon What Color Would You Be?

Moss green!

33. PlayStation Or Xbox.

Xbox.

34. Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean?

Ocean. I don’t trust lakes.

35. Do You Believe In Magic?

I believe in the supernatural, I don’t know if magic’s the right word. It’s more like a belief that there’s something more to the world than what we’re able to perceive. 

36. What Color Shirt Are You Wearing?

Charcoal grey.

37. Can You Curl Your Tongue?

Yes! I can also make my tongue into a clover.

38. Do You Save Money Or Spend It?

A bit of both. I can be pretty frugal when I’m by myself but I inherited the need to pay for everything for my friends from my mom, so if my friends are around, I will try to muscle my way into paying for everything. This is usually unsuccessful bc my friends are in the same boat.

39. Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You?

Yes. I’ve got a pink water bottle on my bedstand.

40. Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now?

I mean. OPM lkjshdflkjdh I’ve been hyperfixating on it, but I also am pretty obsessed with OTGW (I have been for years).

41. Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly?

No but I’ve had a few land on me.

42. Are You Easily Influenced By Other People?

Depends on the person. Overall, I’d say no, but my friends have significant sway over me.

43. Do You Have Strange Dreams?

Yes.

44. Do You Like Going On Airplanes?

I actually do. But only for short flights. Anything longer than 4 hours makes my body really hurt.

45. Name One Movie That Made You Cry.

Moana.

46. Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds?

Sunflower seeds!

47. If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be?

Orville Peck or Carseat Headrest.

48. Are You A Picky Eater?

Nope!

49. Are You A Heavy Sleeper?

Yeah.

50. Do You Fear Thunder/Lightning?

No, I actually love them. I sleep best when it’s thundering.

51. Do You Like To Read/Write?

Yes to both. I’m a Creative Writing major so dkljfhljkdf

52. Do You Like Your Music Loud?

Yeah! Though not as loud as some people, my ears are sensitive.

53. Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents?

Wrap presents. I’m not a big fan of the smell of pumpkin, and wrapping presents is a tradition for my mom, brother and I. We’d put on some music, drink some hot chocolate, and wrap as many as possible. Then my brother and I would smuggle some wrapping paper to our rooms and wrap our mom’s gift.

54. Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up?

Somebody that I Used to Know-Gotye (listen the song still slaps)

55. What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather)

Winter/Spring transition. It hailed for 15 minutes straight yesterday.

56. What Are You Craving Right Now?

A popeyes 5 piece spicy chicken meal with fries and ranch. Can you tell I’ve thought about this?

57. Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed.

I don’t wanna.

58. What Is Your Gender?

Nonbinary, but vaguely girl adjacent. 

59. Coffee Or Tea?

I think coffee. I drink more tea, but I also drink exclusively green tea and chai (like the traditional chai made with milk not the chai teabags) and I really am not a black/white/earl grey tea person.

60. Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About?

OOF Yeah I do

I’ve got a thousand word readers response to “The Other Boat” by E. M. Foster, a one thousand word journal about WWI, a reflective journal check in and a powerpoint I have to make for Sense and Sensibility for Brit Lit and I also am tutoring a few of my classmates

In my biological anthropology class I’ve got a Unit Exam and a few lectures to watch

For my internship/Teachers Assistant position I’ve got 17 10 page rough drafts to read and give in depth comments on as well as a portfolio I have to assemble for next year’s TA bc I’m transferring, phone meetings with the 17 students who wrote those rough drafts, and I’ve gotta compile some resources for my professor

I need to finish my memoir for my independent study and I have to present. my nonfiction memoir. to my classmates. on Zoom. I’m one of two people doing a nonfiction memoir for their independent study the rest are doing fiction, poetry or a literary analysis paper so like. My classmates are gonna be talking about their fiction piece and then I’m gonna be giving a 15 minute reading and Q&A about a piece that focuses on my trauma and being hate crimed so that’s fun.

I also gotta get some stuff done for my school’s lit magazine.

61. What Is Your Sexuality?

A known bisexual™

62. Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning?

I try to but I forget.

63. Favorite Pokémon?

Togepi, Blissey and Togekiss.

64. Favorite Social Media?

I hate to say it but it’s tumblr.

65. What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories?

If it’s longer than six stories, I’m not watching it. Unless I know they’re gonna be fun or we’re really close then I will.

66. Do You Get Homesick?

A bit. I’m still really homesick for my hometown tbh because that’s where all my family except for my parents are. I’m really close with my extended family, so being isolated from them feels like there’s an emptiness at my side.

67. Are You A Virgin?

No.

68. What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now?

Redken Frizz Dismiss. I got those big fucking bottles you can get at Ulta where it’s like a gallon of shampoo so I haven’t had to buy any in over a year.

69. If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free?

I’ve slept in my car before and I will do so again most likely. Also $60 is too much to spend for a motel room.

70. Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life?

Yes. Though I’m much closer to my mom than my dad.

71. Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters?

Idk shit about movies tbh.

72. Do You Miss Your Ex?

One of them yes, the others no. But the one I miss I also acknowledge is someone who had their place in my life at the time and helped me through some rough shit, but no longer has a place in my life. I appreciate the hell out of him though, and we’re on good terms.

73. What Is Your Favorite Quote Right Now?

I’ve got two!

“I don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth” –Ophelia, Hamlet

and

"Suffering feels religious if you do it right." –Chelsea Hodson

74.  What Eye Color Do You Find Sexiest?

Brown. Especially the almost black-brown eyes.

75. Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set?

Yes to both.

76. What Was The Last Thing You Ate?

Chocolate covered pretzels ljhflfsd

77. What Games Do You Have On Your Phone?

Toon Blast and 2048.

78. Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not?

Holy shit I hate this question. Yes, of course I would. I don’t know why mentioning that the person is homeless is relevant. Homeless people are not somehow less worthy of CPR?? What the fuck.

79. Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight?

...yes

80. Stalked Someone On A Social Network?

I’ve briefly skimmed over someone’s page after meeting them but I don’t lurk.

81. Do You Like Meeting New People?

Depends on my mood.

82. Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them.

I hate my hands so this was pushing it.

83. Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed?

Closed.

84. What Are Three Things You Did Today?

Corrected papers, walked my dog, did some writing.

85. What Do You Wear To Bed?

T-shirt and shorts.

86. List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now.

Dude I can’t do that I have too many, I’ve been buying makeup for 7 years and I used to work next to a sephora

My makeup routine pre-rona was:

Sephora brand moisturizer

Milk Hydrogrip primer

Fenty Pro Filtr Hydrating Foundation

Maybelline Age Rewind Concealer

Anastasia Brow Definer

Glossier Cloud Paint

Fenty Sunstalkr Bronzer

Fenty Liquid Flyliner

Fenty Flypencil

Fenty Full Frontal Mascara

Fenty Glossbomb

It’s...an expensive routine.

87. Are You A Day Or Night Person?

Night to early morning.

88. List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc.

I answered this one and I don’t want to reanswer it tbh ldkjfhds

89. Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened.

I genuinely can’t remember any of my dreams right now. I remember a snippet of one where I was in a cave and I looked at the wall and I could see water running down it, reflecting in the torchlight but that’s literally it.

90. Favorite Soda Drink?

I’m a big pomegranate person, so Italian soda’s my go to.

91. What Sounds Are Your Favorite?

The sizzle of meat hitting a hot wok, rain, hail, thunder, the crunch of dry leaves. I also love the sound of Simone de Rochefort’s laugh. It’s so good.

92. Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More?

Jeans.

93. How Do You Look Right Now?

Shitty.

94. Name Something That Relaxes You.

Skyrim ldskjfhd

95. What Tattoo Do You Want?

I really want to get my family’s mon on my ribcage and my mom’s Japanese name somewhere. I don’t know how my pain tolerance is but if I can handle it, I’d want to get at least a partial sleeve.

96. Favorite YouTuber?

Polygon and Watcher.

[momtemplative]

Saturday Afternoon, MACRO and MICRO

Definition of Macro: large-scale; overall. ie., THE FOREST.

Definition of Micro:  extremely small. ie., THE TREES. Definition of Macro, here: The wild world at large.

Definition of Micro, here:  The tiny home we inhabit, where we “shelter in place.”

MICRO—I sit here in our tiny RV that is parked in the driveway. It’s where I “go to write”, a creative parlor with wheels and a view of our magnificent choke cherry out the window that is just starting to think about blooming. (I don’t blame it for being hesitant.) 

Months back, Opal and her friend pretended this RV was a rescue vehicle for dogs—all dogs but mostly pit bulls, a breed Opal feels is highly misrepresented. From where I sit, in the passenger seat swiveled to face the rear, there are four black-and-white photocopies of gorgeous dog portraits staring at me. One pit bull in particular looks straight through me.

I’ve purposefully resisted straight-up news, aside from my nightly installment of “Good News Network” and NPR’s weekly “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” radio quiz show. But living without allowing for the outside to seep in feels unhealthy in its own right. Selectively permeable would be the proper thing to practice now. 

So I crack open my computer and dip my toes in the NY Times live coverage of the Coronavirus.

I can hear Jesse’s future voice in my head: How was writing?

Me: Good, but I’m feeling a tad suicidal now.

Him: Why?

Me: I read the news.

Him: Now why would you go and do that??

MACRO—“With President Trump having undercut the new guidance of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention by immediately declaring that he would not wear a mask himself, it was far from clear how many Americans would ultimately embrace the recommendation.”

MICRO— I return from the RV to find a house party of three people in my living room. Thankfully, my family did not get the memo that in this moment, life on the outside is complex and backwards. Ruth is on Jesse’s shoulders, no pants, shit-eating grin and fresh-cut bangs in her eyes. She shakes like a puppy with over-large ears and Opal twirls in her No ProbLLama nightgown to the Imagine Dragons song, Zero. Inside our little bubble, things are bumping! The sun floods the living room and even the anti-social cat seems obliged to hang out—from an appropriate distance.

MACRO—Governor Andrew Cuomo warns that, as infections passed 113,700 and deaths 3,500, New York State would reach the worst point of the coronavirus crisis within a week or so. He also said the state was using the machines for coronavirus patients at a rate that would exhaust its stockpile in just six days.

MICRO—Three boxes are stacked one atop the other in front of our door like a cairn. One box is for Jesse’s birthday next weekend, the others are for Ruth. 

It’s looking like COVID-19 will spit us out the other end proficient in at least one new talent—Opal’s is roller skating. She insisted on using my skates, which she found while foraging for activities in the garage like a squirrel for food. After a few days of wearing those up and down the down-stairs hallway, and back and forth on the sidewalk out front, I was certain the future for her ankles was bleak and we ordered her a pair on Amazon that were her size.

Ruth observed all this unfolding and with no intention of leaving empty-handed. Unfortunately, toddler-sized skates are much harder to come by. So, many weeks into the future, Ruthy finally got her own skates that go over her shoes and are, frankly, awesome. She also picked out the tackiest Olaf helmet—with a carrot-nose that actually protrudes—after instructing me to “search on Amazon for Olaf now please.” 

Each of those treasured items are contained in the boxes on our porch. I jump into our current porch-sanitizing routine (bleach wipes and spray lined up on the porch without apology)—wipe box, open, wipe down package inside, wash hands thoroughly. 

You can practically hear Ruth buzzing as suits up for a jolly, though quick to be exhausting, skate around the block. Her uniform killed, and would have worked as well for Halloween, Burning Man, a rave and a roller derby—mixed patterns for shirt and pants, knee pads and skates from Trolls, Olaf helmet. When she velcroes her final skate, I hear a faint, prayer-like utterance from Jesse: dear god. She is an eye-full that could save a life.

MACRO—Trump is getting help with the November election. His campaign just rolled out a new ad, titled “Hope,” featuring appreciative quotes from Gov. Cuomo and Gov. Newsom of California. With the lives of their constituents at stake, they’ve given him the made-for-TV sound bites he was never able to extract from Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky.

MICRO— Thank god for these kids. If I were being force-fed the news then led to an empty house with, maybe, a roommate-peer who is also stressed and bloated with sad information, or if perhaps I were old and alone, I’d be struggling in an entirely different way. Sure, I have my moments of fantasizing about what it would have been like if COVID and shelter-in-place came at a time before or children, during a time when I could have relished cleaning and reading and making a weeks-long retreat out of an unsavory situation. But the fact is, these kids keep the scales level.

Not to mention the fact that affection is built-in. Even though Ruth is less interested in snuggling than she is in building block-towers or submerging every toy she owns in water, we seem to be touching constantly, in this or that way. Hugs from Opal and Jesse, snuggling on the couch for a show, holding hands on our walks around the block—it’s all-inclusive. The fact that this is not the case for everyone is something I am well aware of.

MACRO—Jared Kushner has embedded his own people in the Federal Emergency Management Agency; a senior official described them to The Times as “a ‘frat party’ that descended from a U.F.O. and invaded the federal government.” As The Washington Post reported, Kushner’s team added “another layer of confusion and conflicting signals within the White House’s disjointed response to the crisis.”

Kushner, you can’t shatter us.  Young girls in roller skates win every goddam time.

MICRO— Our block continues to be paradise. Any interest we had six months ago in selling this house has been waylaid and, thus, we are appreciating our home base in a truly different way. 

As we make our way down the block with two girls on their respective wheels, we holler at our beloved across-the-street neighbors, friends of 14 years. They sit, mysteriously, at a card table in their front yard, as if they are having an invisible garage sale. We exchange a boisterous, level-12-volume conversation from across the street, talking over each other and at the same time, expressing everything we possibly can in the tiny window we have while the girls scoot away on their skates. 

The corner that turns on to the bike path and is covered with ancient ponderosa pines smells musty and earthy and perfect. Like every camping trip ever taken. Every hike through the woods. A momentary dose of equilibrium.

When we circle back, our neighbors are still outside.  

One of them asks, “Hey, have you guys been wearing masks outside?”

“No, Governor Polis just suggests it for any public place—grocery, whatever.”

“We saw a few people driving by with them on.”

“Yea, so did we, we saw a few people out walking with them on, just outside.”

I guess the point is, if it’s not gonna hurt, you might as well do it. Hell, if we are in this far—as is shelter-in-place—then we might as well take it all the way. To pick up the slack for people who aren’t doing what they should be doing. (We are actually yelling all this in conversation across the street.) The idea that some people would still not be doing what they are supposed to be doing is ludicrous.  I’ve vented my rage at the college students of America over St. Patty’s Day, but they are all home by now, are they not? So who are we talking about here?

Fact is, as I just learned today, there are still five states that are not mandatory shelter-in-place. (I’m sorry, what??)

MACRO—“I can’t lock the state down,” said Gov. Kim Reynolds of Iowa, which has recorded more than 600 confirmed cases and at least 11 deaths. “People also have to be responsible for themselves.”

MICRO— Opal has been loving her evening ritual of putting Ruth to bed. She says it’s one of her most ‘special times of the day,’ though it happens only a few times a week. She takes her little sister down by the hand, gets her jammies on and teeth brushed, reads to her, the whole precious nine yards. She does that tonight, leaving Jesse and I to the quiet of ourselves and our space-sans-kids in the family room. 

Jesse promptly dozes off in the rocking chair. I lie on the floor with eyes closed in star-pose, taking up some glorious space. These days are taking a toll. But it’s also true that I laughed so hard on four different occasions this afternoon that I buckled over twice, slapped a knee and wet myself. 

So much is going well in our tiny Microcosm that sometimes it’s easy to forget the Big Picture Macro. Ignorance is indeed not far from a certain cheap kind of bliss. It makes sense why people do it, why people feel the need to avoid discomfort. But, ultimately, the mind knows when it is missing something. The soul knows when it is being cut-off. Our beings can feel when humanity is suffering, whether or not we choose to admit it to ourselves in so many words.

“Mom!” Opal whisper-yells from down the hall. “Ready!” Meaning, she’s ready for me to come and finish Ruth’s bedtime with a song. But by the time I get to Ruth’s snug and utterly safe kid-room, she is fast asleep.

4/4/20

(all quotes in italics come from the NY Times live coverage of the coronavirus from the previous week.) 

#momtemplative #HeatMamaWords #mindfulparenting #micromacro

[gleepotluckbigbang]

Coffee Shop Writing Prompts by @veronicabunchwrites

To start you guys off, a prompt list by @veronicabunchwrites. Veronica is no longer on Tumblr, only on Pillowfort, so I can’t reblog, only repost, sorry about that. The original post can be found here.

100 coffee shop au writing prompts!

there’s something about people meeting and falling in love over hot drinks that presents such a cozy atmosphere. it’s no wonder that it’s a favourite. some of these prompts are classic because who can resist the tried and true?

01.  clearly you’re going through a bad breakup because this playlist is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard and I’m begging you please change it 02.  you’re my favourite employee because you always have my order ready on the days I’m running late to the office 03.  I order the same thing as my boss in case something happens to their coffee and one day, you write your number on the cup I give to my boss 04.  my friend swears that you can pick the perfect drink for anyone but I’m skeptical because there’s no way you can look at someone and just know their order - and of course, you nail my drink 05.  I run the shop beside your bookstore and I’m trying to convince you that it could be beneficial to knock down the wall between our shops and you’re being a big pain in the ass about it 06.  I hired you to make drinks not flirt with every customer that walks in and how dare you accuse me of jealousy, get back to work 07.  you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway?

08.  I know you’re about to close and I swear I’ll give you a $20 tip, can you please just take my order? I’ve had the worst day possible 09.  a $20 tip isn’t worth me staying open late, but then you burst into tears and I end up asking you if you want to hang around to talk 10.  you’re the night manager who runs open mic nights and I’m the baker who starts at 3am so sometimes our paths cross and I like talking to you 11.  you never order the same thing more than once and just as you’re about to get to the end of the menu, I start adding new things because I’m afraid you’ll stop coming in 12.  I’ve been writing lame jokes on your cups because you’re the grumpiest person ever and you finally crack a smile 13.  you always get my order wrong and I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose just so you get a free drink out of it because employees have a crap discount 14.  I’ve been working on this essay/project/article/etc. for the last ten hours and I’ve barely moved so you come over to give me something to eat and ask if I’m okay 15.  I’m dragged to open mic night by my best friend, and while I’m ordering my drink, your voice fills the room and I’m mesmerized 16.  there’s a poetry slam and while I’ve never gone on stage, I’m obsessed with your stuff 17.  you were rude so I insult you and you just left a $50 tip??? who the fuck do you think you are? 18.  I decided to use my personal (and massive) mug collection when I opened my shop and you start hanging around just to see which mug you’ll get 19.  I open a cat cafe with a separate room for the cats that are all available to adopt, and you keep coming in to sit with them even though you’re allergic 20.  I haven’t seen you in years but you just walked into my coffee shop and by your snooty attitude, you don’t seem to know that I own the place 21.  I really don’t care that you’re a famous celebrity, you will stand in line just like everyone else and that’s that 22.  this shop is really busy but I need their wifi, so could we share this table? 23.  we’re working on our school project in this cafe and I’m pretty sure my group just figured out that I have a crush on you 24.  I have a job interview and you're the clumsy employee who just spilled hot coffee all down my white shirt 25.  I’m on the worst blind/Tinder/Grindr date and you ‘accidentally’ dump a drink on my date to save me 26.  you’re a big city person visiting my tiny coffee shop in a small town and you’re so rude when you ask if we have cappuccinos that I lie and say no 27.  I just bumped into my ex so I slip my arm in yours to pretend you’re my current partner even though you were just standing in line behind me 28.  my umbrella broke and I just stepped into your shop soaking wet and you run upstairs to get me some towels from your apartment and I’m sorry I’m crying but this is the nicest thing that’s happened to me all week 29.  my AC isn’t working at my apartment so I’ve been spending most of my spare time here and using your wifi and I think you’re flirting with me 30.  I’ve been hanging out more because I sit at the counter to watch two baristas flirt (OT3 bonus!) / and you join me so we make a bet on when they’ll get together 31.  I named my coffee shop Coffee Shop and you’re the customer who loudly talks about how stupid the name is 32.  I’ve been sitting in the break room wondering how to ask you out on a date when you come in and announce you were just asked out by a customer (bonus if OT3!) 33.  you’re a famous celebrity who ducks in to my quiet shop and asks if you can hide, and I mean, sure, but are you going to order something? I have to make a living here, dude 34.  I know you own this place but dude, this song has been on repeat for the last hour and I will pay you to change it 35.  I’m really nervous as I’m meeting a family member for the very first time and you’re the kind employee who sits with me to help calm my nerves 36.  you’re staring at me and I don’t know why until you tell me I’ve been singing along to my music and I’m mortified because I didn’t realize 37.  I saw your Help Needed sign in the window and you look busy so where are the aprons and how can I help? 38.  every day I write a quote on a chalkboard on the wall and apparently you’re the author I just quoted but you’ve never shown your face in public before so why are you telling me? 39.  someone left a note in the suggestions box that the barista is the cutest person they’ve seen and I’m laughing as my coworkers discuss who it could be when you quietly admit it’s about me 40.  you just cut in front of me in line and I’m not in the mood to let it slide 41.  I noticed you were on ao3 reading smut and when you go up to get something else to drink from the counter, I realize you’re reading the fic I posted twenty minutes ago 42.  your dog and my dog just tangled their leashes outside the coffee shop and now they won’t leave each other’s sides, so do you want to join me at this table? 43.  I know it’s not my place but your teenager seems to be mixed up in a bad crowd and I thought you should know they’re hiding in the bathroom crying right now 44.  your father comes in weekly at the exact same time and orders the exact same two drinks because that’s what he used to do with your mother and you come looking for him 45.  I really need you to put up this flyer on the community board but you’re sort of being a prick about it 46.  you hire my band to come place on a weekly basis but the more time I spend with you the more time I want to kiss you 47.  you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you 48.  my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me 49.  after overhearing you order the eccentric coffee shop owner’s drink of the week, I warn you that it never tastes good (bonus if you convince me it’s great this week so I sip and suffer with you) 50.  the last clue to my partner’s scavenger hunt is supposed to be here, and while I’m looking for it, I discover that you’re my partner’s friend who set the whole thing up (bonus: ot3) 51.  I sold my business for millions when I was in high school and tried to disappear from the spotlight but I’ve just been spotted drinking your coffee and feel bad since you’re overwhelmed with the sudden influx of new customers 52.  I overhear you talking to your friend about how you’re planning on meeting up with your ex and I can’t stop myself from butting in because that’s a bad mistake 53.  I’m hosting a food-eating contest to raise money for charity at my shop and you seem to have an endless stomach that makes me a little concerned 54.  I catch you in the act of placing your newspaper over a customer’s cell phone/wallet/etc. and then stealing it when they deny you money 55.  you walk into my coffee just before close looking like a runaway bride/groom/princess/prince/royalty so I stick around to keep you company 56.  meeting at the coffee shop feels like fate, but now we’re sitting here because I’m terrified to tell you my big secret 57.  you’re a grumpy customer who doesn’t talk but you always have the most fun tie/socks/dresses/sweaters/etc. and I look forward to see what you wear next 58.  I’ve been obsessed with your homemade soups and I always rave about them to the cashier but I didn’t realize you also make them until you surprise me with a new recipe 59.  I rent out your shop for the evening to propose to my significant other and they dump me on the spot 60.  I run a baking class one night a week after hours at my shop and you keep coming back despite being the worst baker ever 61.  you left me a bad review so I’m tracking you down to yell at you and demand a retraction 62.  you’re the contractor I’ve hired to build individual bathrooms so I can offer genderless options for people (bonus if contractor is trans/nb/gender queer) 63.  I host a board game night every Friday and you always come in with your best friend and ask me to teach you a new game and I cannot believe you’ve never played Life before (or: insert own game) 64.  I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you 65.  I’m wiping down a table when I notice that you left a cell phone number on the back of your receipt for your lunch and I ask my coworker if I should text you (bonus if ot3) 66.  every time you come into my shop, I swear you have a new sticker on your laptop and I desperately want to ask about this one 67.  you come in to steal the shop’s wifi for video calls with your mom/dad/family member and when they see me in the background, they think I’m your new partner 68.  I really suck at my job but I desperately need the money and when I get fired for spilling your coffee all over you, you offer me a job because you feel bad 69.  we’re coworkers who make out in the supplies closet and get caught by another coworker (bonus if ot3!) 70.  someone enters my hot chocolate into a contest for the National Best Hot Chocolate and you’re the hot judge who gets snowed in town for a few days 71.  you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them 72.  I watch you pull out a flask and add alcohol to your drink and then you wink at me 73.  I’m playing a game on my computer but I keep failing at the level so you tap my shoulder and tell me how to beat it (and we spend the rest of the afternoon in the coffee shop bonding) 74.  I've been assigned a fluff article about the different types of people who spend their days at coffee shops but I can’t seem to figure out why you’re here (articles: x, x, x) 75.  I found you curled up under a blanket asleep at my front door so won’t you come in, I’ll get you some food and give you a job 76.  you’re my favourite actor in my favourite TV show but by the sounds of that phone call, you seem to be having a rough day so instead of flailing, I offer you some words of support 77.  I don’t know how to spell anyone’s names correctly so I spell them phonetically and you always mumble your name so I just make up something 78.  I bump into you and knock your coffee out of your hands and you look like someone just died because you’re having the worst week ever and can I make it up to you? 79.  we met online and you suggest this place for our first date and I’m terrified you’ve catfished me or you’re going to stand me up 80.  when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out 81.  you’re my significant other’s ex and you’ve invited me to coffee to tell me that I can do better and our connection is immediate 82.  I’m in the middle of a rant about this book I’m reading and oh my god you’re the author in line behind me and I’m sorry, not sorry 83.  you take a selfie and I photobomb you, but you don’t notice until the entire photo goes viral so we agree to meet back at this coffee shop 84.  I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up 85.  I’m a little concerned that you might be too addicted to coffee since you always come down from your office to my little shop to get your fix multiple times a day but my coworkers think you have a crush on me 86.  I’m expecting an important phone call but my phone is about to die and please, please let me borrow yours 87.  I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes 88.  I’m a witch barista and I charm your drink so that you have a better day 89.  I’ve been trying to borrow this particular book that the local/college library only has one copy of and I just realized you’re reading it at this coffee shop and goddammit, why haven’t you finished with it yet? 90.  some asshole just stole your purse/backpack without you noticing so I instinctively jump into action and chase him down the street to get it back for you 91.  you’ve cut in front of me in line for the last three days by shooting me a charming smile and leaving me a little dumbfounded but today, that will not fly 92.  I keep making work-related puns and you’re the grumpy coworker who refuses to find me charming 93.  you sit down at my table and quietly tell me to pretend we’re talking because you’re trying not to be seen by someone and I’m so confused as to what is going on but you’re cute so I’ll roll with it 94.  you order the same obscure drink from the app but I always miss you picking up your drink from the counter and today, I’m going to finally watch to see who you are 95.  I don’t know who you think you are, but you really can’t make this shop your office unless you’re going to order more than one tea for the eight hours you stay here 96.  you read tea leaves as a hobby so I always bring my cups to you when I’m finished 97.  you look like you’re having a bad day so I get some icing and draw a smiley face on your cookie 98.  I overheard you talking about how you wish my shop had board games so the next time you come in, I watch your reaction to my new shelf of board games 99.  you’re the very kind employee who brings me my favourite tea when you witness my public (and loud) breakup 100.  this coffee shop is owned and run by queer people and is so very gay with our decor and the names of our menu items, and I’m pretty sure you’re not as straight you think you are because you keep coming in and asking a thousand questions 101.  you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it 102. I’m wistfully watching a couple when you come up to the counter to order something and get frustrated with my daydreaming

#gpbb #gpbb prompt #coffee shop au #gpbb prompt: coffee shop au #trope of the day

[werevulvi]

These pics are just to show my dented ribs, cause like... suffer with me? Also cause I feel strangely alright with what my chest looks like in these pics. But anyhow. On left pic I'm pointing at the centre where it goes in and then pops out again on both sides of the sternum/breastbone. And yes, that's my bone bending like that, not just fat or muscles. Likely from having pushed my breasts towards the centre in binders and sports bras. On the right pic I'm pointing at the big dent on the lower left side of my ribcage, which is right where the sports bra elastic goes. My lowest ribs then curve out much farther than they do on the other side. Putting pressure on either of those dented areas hurts a bit.

(The bump above my nipple on the right pic is literally just my pec muscle, so no need to worry about that one.) And yes I'm sucking in my stomach here only so that you can see my ribs better, I don’t normally do for photos. I've sure gotten hairy again since I stopped shaving my body, and I like the soft fluff! It’s dark brown, almost black, irl. Which is quite a contrast to my ivory skin. And yes my happy trail does connect with my chest hair, which almost connects with my beard but not quite. Those little tufts just above the scars on my chest are my actual nipple hairs, or used to be before the nips were relocated during top surgery. They're weirdly misplaced little hairs now, but that's why they're there. And yeah, 5 years post-op but the scars never became white. But let's get onto the topic. I've come across a new doubt about my wish to have breast reconstruction, which I'm already looking into and not brushing under any carpets. I do want to make as sure as I possibly can that I make the right decision about my chest this time, so I'm tackling every doubt I get about it. And that new doubts keep popping up from time to time, worries me too. Even though I sorted through all the previous ones. So what's it this time? Since I've started going flat in public a couple weeks ago or something (I think the last time I went out with boobs on was June 6th or around that date) I've noticed I seem to be less likely to be assumed to be a trans woman, and instead seen as just a gnc man. And strangely that actually feels better, mentally. It's still very far from ideal, but I feel it's the slightly better of the two evils.

What would be ideal? In a perfect (and highly unrealistic) world: I'd love it if people would just know I'm a female who's taken testosterone and/or see I'm a masculinised woman even if they can't figure out, or know, how. And without me having to change my body at all. But that is not how reality works and I know that people won't perceive me that way just because I want for them to.

So, without changing my body again I'm basically stuck having to choose between being perceived as either a "cis" man or a trans woman, depending on my presentation and style. (Cause apparently we are assuming "gender identity" and not just bio sex, these days.) Of course I don't have 100% control over which one of those I'll be read as, but I've come to notice that people do seem to be much more likely to "trans me" when I'm wearing my breast forms cause that is adding a female (not just feminine) trait to my otherwise male appearance... and they seem to be much more likely to think I'm simply a man (albeit gnc) when I go flat but still keep a feminine style. However, some still read me as a gnc man with boobs and some still read me as a trans woman without them.

Exactly why I seem to prefer being read as a whole ass man rather than as a trans woman, is complicated and not entirely nice, but basically this: Both trans women and "cis" men are bio male, and it's the assumption that I'm bio male that rubs me backwards, at the core of it.

However, being assumed to be a trans woman adds another layer to it. It makes me feel like people shove the gender ideology down my throat that is hard to wiggle myself out of, and it makes me feel like I'm perceived as a "fake" woman and a "fake" lesbian. A fraud, to be brutally honest. Whereas when I'm assumed to be simply a gnc man, the gender ideology is not being shoved down my throat, people don't comment on my assumed genitals, etc. But above all I'm more likely to be treated with respect, which feels hugely relieving.

But mostly what truly whacks my mind about being assumed to be MtF is that it makes me feel like I'm an imposter of an imposter. Double wrong. While when seen as a man, I merely feel like I'm simply an imposter. Plain wrong. And that, is exactly why I feel like "gnc man" is a better wrongful assumption than "trans woman" is. Cause two wrongs really don't make a right.

But regardlessly, I am not and will never be an actual man. I am an imposter, a male impersonator of modern times. But at the same time I believe I'm more authentic like this than I would be if I tried to force myself into acquiring a stereotypical "womanly" appearance. That would be a charade just as much, if not more. That was a long ramble about how I'm perceived again, but it's highly relevant to my doubt about getting breast reconstruction, just hear me out. Cause that, what I'm read as based on what's going on on my chest, was was made the doubt creep out from its shadows, just a few days ago. It has gotten me suddenly worrying I might not like it how I'd be perceived if I have permanent boobs on my chest that I wouldn't be able to hide. Cause no more binding, ever. I've fucked my ribs over enough for a lifetime. And of course, how fucking moot and dumb it would be to bind after breast reconstruction! The thing, however, is that if I actually prefer to be seen as a gnc man over being seen as a trans woman, and boobs being the tipping point between those two perceptions... that creates a thorn in my side, a doubt, a conflict even, about if breast reconstruction really is the right choice for me then.

Ever since I left my boobs at home those weeks ago, people have left me alone about my gender/sex. Out of all the 5 or 6 strangers that have come up and talked to me since then, zero have confronted me about my gender, sex or even my style. It is a relief to just be left alone about my body like that.

I'm also feeling slightly (possibly even increasingly) okay with my chest as it is. I do still regret my top surgery and I still miss having boobs, and it's definitely possible that I'm just disassociating from my chest being flat now, but... Yesterday I was even walking around in my neighbourhood wearing literally just a skirt, fem slippers, my lesbian necklace, red lipstick, and an open, flimsy tunic/cardigan. The wind grabbing it quite a lot means most of my chest showed, including nipples, and my neighbours could see it as I walked back and forth to the laundry house to clean my dirty clothes.

Is it weird? Well, I highly doubt I'd be reported for indecent exposure cause I'm at least 99% sure everyone in my neighbourhood thinks I'm male. Cause they certainly looked shocked at me when I first started going fem in my early detransition a year ago. I've only lived in this area since mid-transition, so no one here knows my history with that. Basically I can't imagine my neighbours think I'm somehow bio female, without slipping into the territory of wishful thinking. But it has gotten me thinking: when I don't shave anywhere, and don't wear boobs, knowing I can only pass as male that way... am I not technically "presenting male" then, despite being female and also so feminine in my style? I mean, up until the point I introduce myself as "Laura" that is. Also, last night I took a shower, and for the first time in... I dunno how many years, if ever... I actually enjoyed soaping and touching my chest in gentle, massaging and caressing ways. For but a glimpse of a moment, I could connect to it for probably the first time since top surgery, or ever, in a non-sexual way. It is indeed a breakthrough. It is also a hint of its possible true potential. That I could maybe at some point come to peace with it. Why do I feel so bad for regretting my transition? Cause even though I achieved a 100% passability, here I am, still dysphoric and miserable, missing the womanhood I traded away. Oh, what a fool I was. This irrevokable fate that seems like an impossible dream for the dysphoric, and I'm just pissing on it. I'm sorry, but I cannot appreciate having been transformed into a highly believable illusion of something I can never actually become and no longer want to be. I never thought it could hurt. I never knew it could hurt like this. Was I sold a lie? But back to my chest. I know getting new tits won't make me any more or less female, and it wouldn't make me pass as female either. What I'd want them for is personal comfort in the private, in both non-sexual and in sexual contexts, and vaguely also cause it would help me relate better and more positively to other women. I'm jealous of every pair of boobs I ever see, clothed or uncovered, and that hurts. But what makes me now hesitate, perhaps for real, is this new, gnawing inkling of a feeling that what if I'd miss having a flat chest? Sometimes I like the look of it, in the sense that it kinda goes with my otherwise male appearance and who doesn't/wouldn't like the feeling of a soothing breeze on their bare chest during a hot summer day? Cause it sure does feel good. Oh god, I wish I could just have the cake and eat it at the same time!

It's been 5 years since I had my top surgery, but did I ever truly try to make amends with it, before my detransition? No, I didn't. What I did was trying to force myself to like the result of it, and that's not a successful approach. Just like I didn't exactly manage to like being a woman when I during my teens tried to force myself to become fine with my female body after I had figured out I was likely a trans guy at age 15, and up until the point I said "fuck it" and began my social (and eventually medical) transition at age 19. During those 4 years my dysphoria only worsened, and I think my rabid attempt to force myself to like being female was part of why it only got worse. Forcing self-love is not the way to achieve it. It won't work. Just like you can't beat depression out of yourself, or any other issue, you can't beat dysphoria out of yourself either. That kind of force is actually more likely to make it worse instead, I believe. Cause it'll just strengthen your belief that it won't work. However, to gently and with compassion for yourself and your struggle try out different things, over a longer time and with lots of patience, to slowly accept and come to terms with it can lead to the dysphoria disappearing. To not punish yourself for still being dysphoric or for not "succeeding", but rather reward yourself for even just trying and for every little thing that may improve on the way. At least that's how I managed to accept and embrace being female in my late 20's despite having failed so miserably at it during my teens, because this time I didn't force it. I killed that dysphoria with kindness, quite literally.

Likewise, I think there is a chance I could come to accept and embrace my flat chest if I just stopped forcing myself to, and tried it with gentle self-care and curiosity, without pressure to achieve anything. If only I just want to and can be prepared to give myself that kind of care and patience, one more fucking time. Cause I've only got one body and I'm so fucking painfully aware of it now. I can't fuck it up again. Detransitioning requires so much more soul-searching and scrambling around in my brain for answers, self-care and patience, etc, than transitioning ever did. Well... that's why I ended up detransitioning, I think. Cause I didn't do a good job at truly looking into myself the first time around. Would I still have wanted to go on T if I had known everything I know now, though? Oh absolutely, but that's not the topic of today.

But whether I'll in the long run wanna live as a male-presenting woman incognito or later on down the road change my body in some way, I can't know for sure at this point. Perhaps I'm just not mentally ready yet to take that kind of leap. Or perhaps I don't ever want to present fully female again and may end up loving this look and contradiction as I grow more secure within myself and more confident. But either which way, I will have to follow this new doubt carefully and see where it takes me. Keep going flat for a while and see how it goes, and see if how I'm perceived really changes based on that and if that really feels better in the long run to be perceived as a man. To take advantage of this very hot summer to be shirtless also in public to test my comfort level with that, and if I'd miss that. To explore my flatness gently and with careful patience to see if it really is so bad. To ask my brain: what is this lingering doubt trying to tell me? I'll start with giving it this summer, then more time if needed. I'll still go to the surgery consultation that could happen anytime now. It's not like I'd have to get the surgery by just going to that consultation, cause I'll need to go through my trauma therapy first, and even if it's expected I'd go through with surgery after consultation, I can always cancel at any point. Also, being informed of what a surgeon can do for me and my specific chest, as well as getting my questions about the surgery answered, would surely be helpful in my decision-making as well. I mean, that's what surgery consultations are for. Because I still lean towards wanting it more than I lean towards maybe not wanting it, I think cautiously proceeding with my thumb close to the cancel button is not a bad idea.

#my pics #top surgery #detransition #regret #dysphoria #gender critical #surgery doubts #5 years post op #my dented ribs #venting #desisting

[calleo-bricriu]

Why do I keep doing this?

It’s nearly over, there are fewer than 100 pages left in the horrid thing after this one.

((Oh also, these few chapter contain a hell of a lot of really casual racism mostly against Native Americans and whatever “half-breeds” are, because that’s not specified.))

Okay, chapter 18 starts with finding out that the stroke didn't kill Mother it did, of course, exactly what Mizpra wanted: Left her a mostly paralysed invalid.

Despite that, she's written as still being pretty mentally lucid, just not physically capable of doing much but being propped up in a chair facing a window. Now somehow she's being called "The mother of Leigh" instead of Mrs. Newcomber.

Anyway, she's staring out the window, occasionally being annoyed by the fact that her nurse is a "strange and harsh woman" and how she's a toy of Mizpra's now somehow.

It's also somehow "perverted" of Mizpra to let her mother reminisce about when she was younger but okay.

Watching birds is supposed to make one cry; I'm guessing mabye I watch birds incorrectly because, while interesting, I've never really felt any sort of urge to cry over them.

Mizpra evidently thinks, "partially paralysed from a stroke" means "also deaf" and is now always written shouting right into her mother's ear. Also, she was sick of her mother watching birds because "the mist will soon commence to fall" whatever that means.

Back to insulting Mizpra again, "With her energy, moral palsy, masculine effrontery, and unbridled control of a large fortune, she moved the men and women around her." He's writing that like it's a bad thing.

I mean, it'd be a lot easier to dislike her if he focused on the things she's done rather than the fact that the author just thinks she's a little too "masculine" because, really, by this point we know she stripped down a teenage girl in front of her class to berate her about wearing corsets, married a guy just because he knew how to use a typewriter, and planned her mother's stroke and had the thought of, "It'd be super inconvenient if she dies but whatever, I'll make it work if that happens." You know, legitimate reasons to dislike someone.

"There was not enough of sex instinct in her to enjoy being flattered as a woman," well, who the hell could blame her? Flatter her based on the abilities she's shown, none of which are remotely terrible (by modern standards at any rate).

The author doesn't seem to think highly of women as doctors either because the first one described is, "one of the big-footed, short-haired kind" you know, manly.

Oh, but, "a mild sort of fellow-feeling--not womanly--brought about business arrangements between Mizpra and the female physician."

This is such an exhausting book to read; no wonder so few copies still exist, even in reprint. Normally, I can’t get enough of getting my hands on and reading rare books that only have one or two copies still left anywhere but this? This one is a harsh reminder that some books may actually be better off eventually fading completely from anyone’s memory.

"The older inhabitants of the surrounding country had become interested in Mizpra. The Spaniards, Mexicans, half-breeds, and Indians, all bigoted and ignorant, were now singing her praises." I'm--pretty sure the only bigoted and ignorant one here is the author.

MOVING ON.

Oh look, someone brought her one of her Genius Brother's books: "Insanity in the Adolescent Caused by Religious Rites and Mysticism in the Catholic Church," by Leigh Newcomber, M.D.

There's also a typo in the book that the editor apparently missed, "It had been a distressing day for Mizpra, and she was ugly in mood, and agitated in feeelings."

Feeelings.

""I saw a pretty Indian girl to-day. I'll have as many as--" at this moment the blood rushed to her heavy cheeks and her hands and feet began to feel cold. She grasped the back of a chair to steady herself for a moment, then strode to the bed to throw herself down upon it."

Well, that came out of nowhere. Pun intended.

So now she's going to pretend she's Catholic and devote her time and money to teaching "the Indian and half-breed girls". I'm just going to assume she's moved beyond stabbing sleeping men with scarf pins and is moving on to--that.

Ordinarily, that wouldn't be all that off-putting sounding if not for the use of the term "half-breed" and girls. Girls--that often indicates that they're not adults.

Anyway, she gets a telegram presumably from Rev. Bald indicating he's ruined Leigh's life but, since I've read the previous chapters and the author is about as predictable as the tides, I'm going to assume Leigh sent the telegram and is planning a surprise visit.

Oh look, more casual racism: "An Indian lad, a protege of Father Francisco, arrived at the house with a note from that priest. He was a fine specimen of his race; lithe, bright-eyed, and cunning." He also doesn't like Mizpra, probably because she keeps calling people half-breeds and savages.

Wonderful! He even talks in a perfectly stereotypical racist manner, "Big bone squaw. Too much talk. Want chief."

So, she asks when "the woman" arrived at the priest's house, he answers, "Yes, bad squaw come."

Which makes her angry because he apparently said it in a defiant tone so she grabbed him and demands he explain why she's bad and if he doesn't she'll have him flogged.

I can't exactly parse the racist as hell way he's writing this kid but it seems something to do with an Indian who converts to Catholicism gets salvation?  

So Mizpra slaps him because that's a rational reaction but then he keeps talking and I have no idea what the hell is going on, "Indian boy understand. He white squaw no Christ squaw; Indian boy no white papoose. He squaw, look out."

He leaves, no further explanation, time skp three days later from "Rev. Bald" who basically details what Bald had intended to do but ended up getting tag teamed by Leigh and a prostitute. So, definitely Leigh writing that letter. I mean it also said that Mops was poisoned (diphtheria, for the last. fucking. time. infects you; the bacteria can produce toxins, which are what can cause the range of symptoms, some of which can be fatal, so unless you're just injecting the produced C. diphtheriae toxins right into someone, you are not poisoning anyone by exposing them to diphtheria, you are infecting them and I know that seems like semantics but the author is a doctor and should know better than to think infect and poison are the same thing) and died.

Anyway, Mizpra believes the letter is from Rev. Bald, so I'm sure that'll end well for her.

"Mizpra had but one thought, one passion now; that was, to wallow in her perverted pleasures to the saturating point of satiety." All right.

Chapter 19 begins with "The reader has probably already surmised from the letter received by Mizpra that Bald had recovered."

In the sense that he wasn't dead, yeah, I guess.

Leigh told the hospital Bald was hit by a trolley car and Bald is just, "Well, since I can't remember what happened, that must be correct!"

So Leigh shows up the next day because Rev. Bald is his patient and the first thing the author does is write something creepy in the narrative, "Leigh now noticed a distinct refinement in Bald's features. he was pale, and the whilom sensuous lips had lost some of their grossness."

Who--thinks like that? So he sits there watching Bald sleep for awhile then leaves after leaving some magazines and "a basket of luscious fruit".

Weirdo.

Nurse starts in with some story about how Leigh lost his wealth or something, then Leigh shows up again and Bald immediately goes turncoat on Mizpra.

So Leigh decides that Mizpra is "undoubtedly mentally ill" and "he would see her placed where she could no longer do injury to herself o rothers."

And they’re headed to California; of course, Leigh had Bald write the telegram and letter to tell Mizpra her plan went off flawlessly.

Predictable writing.

Leigh insists the issue is that Mizpra is insane, not a criminal, and that she's "not responsible for her actions". I mean, mentally ill or not, she's still responsible for her own actions unless someone else is forcing her hand, which they are not. That's been made clear.

Only about 100 pages left, thank everything.

Now they're talking about one of the other sisters, the older one who married a lawyer. That turned into a rambling story about how the lawyer "misappropriated" funds and somehow that landed them under having to get an allowance from Mizpra.

Chapter 20 appears to be Leigh is Stressed and Wants a Drink.

Manages to get home without doing that and apparently Obera's only method of showing support is to just fling herself around and cry.

"Leigh went to work instantly to eliminate the poison which his faulty nervous system had allowed to accumulate in his body and thus produce a self-intoxication." ...what?

He calls Dr. Bell to come and write something to Bald and Leigh has to be whiny about it, "Well, I don't believe you or any other man can understand what I suffer."

Please stop being 13 at some point, Leigh, you are an adult.

Now he's relating his life to Poe's stories and needs to stop--but I guess this book is where the whole "psychic incubus" thing came from because he's talking about one now.

And that sort of drifted in to him rambling incessantly about Edgar Allen Poe and how Leigh is just like that, only with more friends and less good writing, I guess.

I might have added the last two things.

Dr. Bell insists on heading out to California with Bald and Leigh and that's the end of that chapter.

It was 85% Leigh rambling on about Edgar Allen Poe while saying very little about him and just sort of quoting random bits of his work.

No surprise the author of the book had a weird obsession with the same thing.

#books #hp rp #casual racism #old books #this is still the worst thing I've ever read #and not because it's shocking #because it's just so disjointed and poorly written #and the author is an idiot #it has a typo #it has a legitimate typo #I found a typo in a book from 1901 #and it immediately jumped out AS a typo because #feelings #is not ever spelled feeelings #typos

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

🏰⚔️ DMODT- 19.... sooooo is this ok? Honest feedback plez

Seated next to Levi, Eren was waiting for Historia to begin her explanation. On his other side, Erwin was gripping the arm of the sofa so hard, that Eren was surprised it hadn't broken. Despite knowing Levi wouldn't hurt him, Erwin's actions had been what he'd expected from Levi over his newly formed scales. Since meeting the Draecia pair, and their dragons, he'd felt so incredibly nervous that his stomach was rolling rather ominously... and this silence wasn't helping anything. He didn't care if Historia needed to pick her words, he just wanted some for of answer about what he was. His distress was slowly rising to panic, and while Levi's scent was warm and calming, Erwin's angry scent left him waiting to be thrown down on the floor. The silence between the seven of them wasn't broke until two of the maids came up with the smart cart from the kitchen. On it was two teapots, several cups and an apple pie that smelt divine. Serving them, the maids left when they were done. Erwin finally breaking the silence as the man reached for his cup of tea "I assure you it isn't poisoned" Historia nodded brightly "I know. I can smell traces of poison. I'm sorry, I was just lost in my own mind. Eren, can you tell me about your childhood? When did you first discover your magic?" The mage didn't like being the centre of attention, even if he'd warmed up to Historia. Nervously, his thigh rubbed against Levi's as he sat straighter, he desperately wanted to sink into Levi's side, but didn't want to do anything that may be considered an insult. The alpha not shying away as he placed his hand on Eren's knee, Eren feeling a small amount of courage start to swell at the touch. Levi hadn't deserted him, even though he was less than human by the looks of it. As if reading his mind, Levi smiled softly at him "It's alright. No matter what you say, we won't judge you" Levi might not, but Erwin would... still, the two princesses had travelled so far to be there, so needed to be open and honest "It was rather normal. I lived with my father, Grisha Yeager, and my mother, Carla Yeager. When I was about 7, we adopted Mikasa Ackerman after the death of her parents at the hands of bandits. I was ten when I first noticed my magic. It was small sparks of fire around my hands and fingers. I had no control over it, so I'd wear gloves. My mother died when Marley invaded Eldia from the south, and my father went missing soon after that. Mikasa, and our friend Armin, both found places here, within the castles, while I lived on the streets for the next two years. While living on the streets, I developed a life threatening infection in my lungs. I was starving, and riddled with infected and weeping bug bites and bruises. The winter of my 12 year had been particularly brutal. The streets were clogged with rain and rubbish, and I knew I was dying. I was simply too sick, each time I coughed there was blood and pus. It'd been raining, and I wanted somewhere dry to... to die. I wanted to be with my family when I did, but I was so weak I collapsed in the stables, and so scared of what they'd say... so I decided I just wanted to be near them. It was there that Prince Erwin found me. I was so sick that my first heat hit, aged 12. The castle healers healed me the best they could, the I spent 5 years in an omega sanctuary, until returning here to vow myself to the kingdom around 4 months ago" Historia nodded, leaving in to take her teacup into her hold "And you couldn't control your magic all before your heat?" "No. It was simply sparks, after my first heat... well... I have no idea how it happened, but it had a mind of its own. I'd levitate, cast wind, fire and storms, all before my vows were taken. The sanctuary guardians had never seen such a problem child" "And after your heat, and your vows?" "I couldn't practice and learn as my master didn't have the time to train me. I read the books, but my magic wouldn't work. It wasn't until we both suffered effects from it, that he stepped into his role. Since then, I've had a lot more control" "Except for his last heat. He cast a storm that lasted for days, and winds that broke every window in the castle" Historia pursed her lips, pausing as she raised the cup towards her lips. Ymir glaring at Erwin, as she wrapped an arm around Historia's shoulders "These questions are directed to Eren, not to you. Please do not interrupt her royal highness when we are here about your kingdom's mage" Ymir he liked. Eren decided that right there and then "Levi is right. I attempted to spend my heat alone, and lost complete control of my magic, with no memory of what happened. I was fevered and delirious, which didn't ease until my master came for me" "And you and your master have suffered symptoms? Can you explain?" "The first time was that he coughed up a dragon scale. The second time, I coughed up a stem of belladonna. The third time he coughed up paper. Also, when I was injured, the marks appeared on him. He felt my pain, and pain bled for me" "Have you had times when extreme power welled inside of you?" Eren's heart sank "Y-yes. I try to keep it under control, but it's affected by mood. I was travelling with a court scientist when we were attacked to bandits. I don't know how it occurred, but I turned them to stone" Historia sipped her tea, the smile never leaving her lips "What else have you done?" "He's filled rooms with white roses and petals. Caused the largest apple tree ever seen to appear in the castle courtyard. Grown the field of roses you landed on. Reconfigured castle hallways..." "Levi. That's enough. Eren can speak for himself" Erwin sounded like a child anxious to dob a sibling in for their bad behaviour. Eren nodded, feeling a braver as he pushed closer to Levi and having Levi allowed it "I've also cast fire from air, then used the iron in my blood and in the air to produce a sword, which I turned into a crown. I've filled rooms with rain and snow, and I've been practicing summoning winds in defence. They're hard, and usually slice my arms up, but I think I'm getting there" "Your powers are excellent. Just what we'd expect of a storm dragon" A what now? He couldn't be a dragon... he was human... "There's no need to look so confused. Like Ymir, you are a storm dragon. It's not overly rare, I mean, no. No, new dragons have been born to the Paradis island population in generations, but as you must know, Marley, Draecia and Eldia all used to be a combined empire. Storm dragons are the rarest of all, as they are generally born weak. This is why your lungs won't heal, despite your magic" "I'm not a dragon" Historia giggled "Yes, you are. Your flames came young, but they came. And though I can't say how far back it was, there was a rider or original dragon in your bloodline. You have also inherited magic from one of your parents" "I'm... not a dragon" Historia's smile widened further "You may repeat that as many times as you like, but you are. You're also being limited in this castle. Your true magic suppressed by your Eldia magic user side. If you stay here, your powers will grow, but you'll never be able to use them to your full potential. And without training to control your dragon magic, you will die" Now her smile disappeared, her face becoming firm. Eren blinked a few times in disbelief "I'll die?" "Yes. Dragon magic is old and absolute. It's also incredibly dangerous to its wielder without proper and thorough training" He didn't want to die. He didn't want to do that to Levi... Yes, he'd been preparing to find a way to leave the man so he could wed Petra, but if he died, Levi would be hurt and blame himself "But... I have a master" "Yes, the Prince. And while he helps to channel your magic flow, you will need proper training" "How can you know all of this?" Historia sighed "I know a great many things. Like the truth that the three of you carry. I have no wish to cause a scene, but as Eren is part dragon, he falls under international laws governing dragons. It is also for his own protection that we request he comes with us" "But my bond. He's my master" "Eren, he's more than that. As a youth, he saved your life and imprinted on you. The lingering affections you feel, is because you chose him to be your rider, with no idea you'd done so. I assure you, time apart will be painful, but it is far better than being taken and cut to pieces for your body parts. Even with the small levels of dragon blood in your veins, you're still valuable to the wrong people. I do not wish to scare you, but you need to be prepared" Eren felt himself growing tearing. Wiping his cheeks, he shook his head to deny it all "I'm just an omega..." Pulling him close to him, Levi rubbed his arm "You're lot just an omega. Is he truly in danger?" "Yes. Recently more and more of our kind are being wounded. Now Marley has started moving, there is a threat on that front" "I thought you guys didn't like war?" "We don't. We honour ways and traditions of accepting all those of dragon blood" Why did he have to be part dragon? It made no sense to him. He was just a mage with a major problem "I think you've scared him, Historia" Eren didn't know if he liked Ymir now that she pointed out something that didn't need to be said, though he did like the fact she didn't seem to have a filter on her mouth. It was a lot to take in. Like everything else over the last week had been, and he knew he was being childish over it. He did like the woman. He felt something warm from her, and a familiarity though they'd never met "Can I have some time to think?" "Of course you can. We wouldn't dream of tearing you from your home without talking. Besides, if you came with us, we wouldn't expect you to do so alone. The prince cannot join us, but perhaps you can think of someone else who would ease your loneliness?" "Eren isn't going anywhere without me" Sighing, Eren wished that was true, turning back to the alpha he placed his hand on Levi's "You cannot give up your kingdom. Marley would see it as you siding with Draecia without them" "I don't care" How selfish could Levi be?! Again, he knew he was blowing it out of proportion, but he'd seen so much messed up shit on the streets. Eldia couldn't survive another war "Well I do! God. It's the Petra argument all over again. You have to consider all aspects of this" Behind him, Erwin grabbed his shoulder "Eren. Know your place" Erwin could fuck off. Actually. Everyone could. Apart from Historia. He didn't care about protocol and not insulting anyone anymore. He'd come to the castle to be with Armin and Mikasa, ended up falling for the public prince, who was to be wed, and now he had to leave his home, all while dealing with coming out of his heat "Princess Historia, may we speak in private? I have a few more questions" Historia took the out, smiling again "I would be delighted to" Climbing to his feet, Levi grabbed his hands. The man staring up at him, his eyes filled with pain and a silent plea to stay "I need to converse with Historia. I cannot make an informed decision until I do. Perhaps you can take this time to fill Princess Freya and her dragon in on the incident with Prince Zeke and the dragon egg? Would that be alright?" Freya clicked her fingers, and Eren's eyes widened in shock as the fossilised egg appeared in her lap. That was so fucking cool! He'd never heard of a spell that could be done mentally and have such instantaneous results "I would say that is a yes. Shall we walk as we talk?" Not wanting to force Historia to be alone or uncomfortable, Eren gestured to Ymir "I would like that. Ymir, will you be joining us?" "No. Ymir will be remaining here. I am sure you have some rather personal questions to ask, such as about your heat and a dragon's pregnancy?" Eren's face paled. His herbs were for human omegas... which he wasn't. Maybe Levi should be there? If they were going to discuss pregnancy "Relax, you are not with child. Dragon pregnancies last for two years, and given your human nature, and pure blooded human partner, the birth would be if a child rather than an egg" The dragon egg was huge. His arse clenching at the thought of hours spent in labours to birth something so large. Maybe if they were smaller? Shaking his head, he hurried around the side of the coffee table. And two years?! And how many children would he carry? And if it was eggs, how many eggs? He could probably carry a fair few, but how would he explain that to Levi? Birthing a whole clutch in the alpha's bed seemed a bit extreme, though also appealing. God. No. He didn't want to birth eggs out his arsehole like he was some kind of chicken... This was a conversation liable to send both he and Levi into a meltdown "Yes. Well. We can discuss this as we walk" * Eren felt as if his head was going to explode from everything he'd learned during his talk with Historia. Historia couldn't explain everything to him, as he hadn't agreed to leave, but he was strongly swayed toward accepting her offer. The magic the princess could do was beautiful. Their walk had lead them back out to the rose field for privacy, Historia impressed over the field, while Eren wasn't as much. He didn't know how to remove the roses, without rising ruining the training field. Historia did. Before his eyes, the plants slowly "ungrowing", or "growing in reverse". He wasn't sure what to call it, but bit by bit, they sank back into the soil, leaving behind a dusting of rose petals across the field. Raising her hands, Historia called up a wind, the petals swirling into the middle of them, before coming together to form a small white dragon, then rushing up and disappearing into the clouds. He had no words for how dainty and light her magic seemed to be, and it felt so warm and calming that he wanted to throw his arms around her. Laughing happily at the look of amazement on his face, Historia suggested they cast while they talked. From their mid-morning meeting, until late afternoon, the pair of them discussed their magic. Historia taking the time to walk him through spells the Draecian way, with him echoing it back to her in what he understood of the Eldian way. To have someone who practiced magic and wanted to discuss things with him was exciting, he wasn't just casting what Hanji wanted him to try. He wasn't fumbling in the dark. He wasn't being snubbed by other castle mages and their masters. He'd thought it would be like the sanctuary, with the mages of the castles learning together, but they seemed to do their own thing, which he was on the outside of. He'd learned well enough on the streets when he wasn't wanted. Fetched by Erwin for dinner, the three of them had returned to the castle in silence. Eren growing more and more nervous as he found himself nearing Levi. Just thinking of the alpha sent his thoughts scattering and his heart racing, leaving him wavering over leaving. He'd thrown Levi's life into chaos, and now he was preparing to leave him behind... How cruel could he be? By the time they reached the dining room, Eren was ready to run. Erwin strode into the room ahead of them, Historia following while the mage was struck by the woman at the table he didn't know by face, but knew by smell, and hence by name. Petra. Seated to the left of what was Erwin's seat, the woman's eyes were firmly on Levi. All it took was that instant for the omega to know, Petra had her eye on Levi. The woman had feelings for his lover, and he didn't like it one bit. With shaky steps, he moved to take his seat between Historia and Levi, a seat he didn't feel he had to right to take, given he wasn't royalty. Waiting until he was seated, Levi gave a small smile that matched his worried scent "How was your talk?" Historia nudged him with her elbow, Eren wishing she'd answer instead, but that wasn't happening "Informative. Princess Historia's magic is simply incredible" "And Princess Historia, how is our mage? Does he meet your standards?" "Well and truly. Eren's magic may have an Eldian twist, but it's strong and I believe he'll make an exceptionally talented caster" Eren shook his head "Your magic is so light, I've never felt anything as warm and accepting as it is" "That's because you're yet to learn yours completely. We would very much like to take him with us" Levi's smile slipped "Eren and I will need to discuss this" "Of course. I wouldn't remove him from your court, and side, without doing so" Historia had no idea she'd misspoken in front of Petra. With Erwin's command in place, he hadn't been able to fully explain the situation in his own words. All she knew was what she'd seen in her mind, and that he was under command not to speak of it. Looking to her sister, Freya sighed at her "The egg?" "You read my mind" "It's dead. It contains no sparks of life, and very little magical residue, but we'll be taking it with us. It's from the clutch of Obsydin. Most likely taken before he was slain, soon after it was birthed. It had no time to absorb his powers or life force. Thankfully it won't be hatching" Eren had never thought a dragon rider would be happy over an egg that'd never hatch. Looking to Historia, she patted his arm "It's for the best. He... he was a dragon who lost his way. Though this was about 300 years ago, before Marley, Eldia and Draecia went their seperate way. It was the royal family who managed to slay him with a sword through his heart. Everything made of him was burned into nothingness, including his clutch and kin, his sins so great. They say the last thing he did was curse the whole world, but you can't have a good story for the generations without a curse or two" "I've read something about something similar to that. In it, the knight was a smithy. He'd been drafted and found himself in a situation he wasn't prepared for, managing to slay a great black dragon that shook the world and blackened the sky, with a cheap shot to the heart by sacrificing his men. It said he became the first "Smith", using the name to never forget his humble beginnings" Historia giggled lightly "I think your story has been given some embellishments, but I wouldn't be surprised. Royal history is all about making themselves look good" Levi sighed as he raised his fresh cup of tea, the maids going about serving them, while Eren was hoping he wasn't coming across as an idiot to Freya and her dragon "I quite agree. I'm sure Eren will be able to show the book with the tale inside. He's quite well read" "That would be excellent. Though we do not intend to impose for long. One or two more days. I'm sure you must understand that there are things we have to attend to" "Yes, unfortunately our work is never done" "That is very true. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask the guards at your rooms, or the maids. You have come such a long way, the least we can do is make sure you are comfortable" "Thank you. I'm sure we shall" Dinner was mostly conversation back and forth between Erwin and the Princesses. Ymir providing the occasional snark at the man, and Levi joining in when talked to. Beneath the table, Levi had engaged the teen in a game of footsies, which Eren was trying hard not to let show. It wasn't exactly easy then Levi's boot would slip sometimes and the man would temporarily lose, leaving Eren feeling like laughing, despite the angry looks that Petra kept sending his way. Levi had already noticed the silent exchange, that's what had led to their childish game. When dinner wound up, they retired for the night. Historia and Freya were both tired, and being the polite person he was, Levi insisted on showing them to their room, with Erwin by their side. Only he and Petra were left behind, and Eren didn't really want to end up yelled at. Yet, he wasn't fast enough. Turning to walk towards Levi's room, Petra sidestepped around him, forcing him to stop. Glaring up at him, Eren wondered how the woman would feel is he picked her up and moved her aside "What is your relationship to the prince?" "I'm sorry... I don't believe we have formally met. I'm Eren, a court mage" Extending his hand, it was ignored "I'm Petra, the prince's fiancé" "It's nice to meet you" "Don't give me that. You're sleeping with the prince and that will stop" "Excuse me?" "You've come from nothing. Don't think that it hasn't been noticed how you've wormed your way into the good graces of Prince Erwin" "I..." "You're a dirty whore. Prince Zeke informed me of how you've been trying seduced the prince with your magic. It is by royal decree that I shall be marrying Prince Erwin" Eren wanted to laugh, but he was also slightly scared of the woman. She may look soft and petite, but the sword on her hip wasn't "That's not what Prince Erwin has said" There was an almighty slap across his face "You will not ruin this for me! I have loved him for years, and I will not have a gold stealing whore ruining everything" "I'm sorry, but you have no idea what you're on about" "I demand you leave him alone" "Oh, you don't have to worry about that, you nasty bitch. The prince has voiced out loud that he has no intention of ever loving or marrying you. Even if I am leaving, that doesn't open him up to you. He is his own person. He deserves to find love for himself. You need to realise he doesn't want to marry you" "How dare you! When I'm princess..." "How dare me? You literally only just met me, yet you are hurling abuse at me without knowing anything. You went out of your way, to stake a claim on a man that's above both of us. Now, I am retiring to my quarters. I would strongly suggest you do the same, lest you hear something you don't wish to" If he was leaving Levi, he wanted to have one more night with him, because once he left, he didn't know if he could return. And more importantly, what would be between them when he did. * Levi wasn't at his quarters when Eren reached them. Letting himself in, he stripped and showered before waiting on Levi's bed. The moment the door opened, the teen rushed to alpha, pulling him into the room as Levi kicked the door closed, their lips already against each other as Eren drew Levi to bed. Pushing him down, Levi's smile was soft and genuine "Did you miss me?" "You have no idea" Eyeing Eren's already hard dick, Levi raised an eyebrow "I think I have some" "It's your fault. Do you know how hard it was to behave at dinner? Each touch went straight to my dick" "Well then. I must take responsibilities for my actions. Show me how much you want me as I strip" Spreading his legs, Eren moaned as he slowly fucked himself with his fingers. He shouldn't need Levi as much as he did, but having his master between his legs was all he wanted. When Levi finally climbed into bed, the alpha's lips went straight to his neck "So beautiful... you have no idea" Wrapping his legs around Levi, Levi moved to slowly sheath himself in Eren's heat, both moaning at the sensation "Fuck... Eren... you're perfect" Laughing, Eren took Levi's face in his hands, sitting up to kiss the alpha happily. Rolling his hips forward, Eren let out a groan, breaking the kiss "Less talking, more moving" "So demanding, my little dragon" "Mmm... you're my rider, so ride me" Levi let out a laugh, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him up "As you wish" The sex was soft and warm, Levi always placing his comfort before his own. His touches infuriatingly loving and caring, when all Eren wanted to be was fucked. They had the rest of the night to enjoy each other's bodies. Growling at how slow the alpha was going, Levi stopped completely "What?! Don't stop" "Don't growl" "Don't tease me. I won't break" "I know you won't, but maybe I want to savour every moment with you" "Then savour it faster... or lay down and let me fuck myself" "You're so impatient..." Levi slowly pulled out, before pushing back in hard. Eren letting out a strangled cry. Stupid tears welled in his eyes "Brat?" "Please, master... I don't know how much longer I can stay by your side... I want to feel you..." "Hey... if you think I'm letting you, you're sorely wrong" "I'm a dragon" "And I'm in love with you. These are just facts of life. My affections aren't going to vanish so easily" "Really?" "Yes, now let me love you" "I don't want to hurt you" "I could see it on your face when you returned. How happy you felt... I'm a selfish prince. I won't let you die" Unwrapping Eren's legs, Levi took him by the thighs and spread them wide as he peppered kisses near his knees. The man taking his time to fuck him slowly into a weeping mess. When Levi knotted him, the alpha pulled him up into his lap, Eren nuzzling into Levi's neck as he tried to remember what breathing was "I had feelings and affections for you, before you discovered you were part dragon. That hasn't changed. And I hope as you complete your training, you'll remember me fondly" "Remember you? I'm going to write every day, I can... I don't want to be in love with you. I wanted to seperate from you, without hurting you. But I can't..." "We're bonded. You're my dragon, and I'm your rider" "You're not mad?" "How could I be? The affections of such a beautiful omega, who happens to be part dragon. And cares so deeply for those Eldia have failed. I'm a lucky man. I just wish we didn't have to hide" "Historia knows. I didn't talk about it" Levi kissed his neck, nodding softly as his thumbs massaged Eren's hip bones. He could smell a second round starting, despite Levi still knotted and coming "I figured as much. Don't let it worry you" "But it does. So much. I don't want Eldia to fall into war. I don't want the people to suffer, or you to be held accountable" "Hey. We'll figure something out. We always do" "Petra knows" Levi pulled back, his thumbs digging into Eren's hips "She what?" "Historia misspoke. Petra knows. She... she loves you" "I don't love her" "She won't let you go so easily" "Then I'll tell her over and over until she understands" "Maybe... maybe there's something going on with her?" "It doesn't matter. I don't love her" "But you'll talk to her? I mean, probably not alone, she's desperate... I feel like something is going on with her" "Petra is a professional" "But..." "Eren, I'm tired of talking about her, when I'm in you" Eren snorted, moving to kiss his master. Levi was right. He was talking too much "I'm sorry. There's just so..." "You're about to start again. Stop it" "Make me" Hefting him up, Eren screeched and clung to Levi "What are you doing?" "Taking you to the shower and fucking you there. Then against the bathroom counter, and maybe on the floor... I'm not letting you forget my touch so soon" "I feel like we didn't just spend five days in bed together" "It's not enough. Before you, I'd never had sex. I was so nervous I wouldn't be any good, but you make me feel amazing" Staring down at Levi, the man's eyes were filled with too much love for him "You're the only one I've slept with... the only one I want to. Even if... even if you have to marry Petra and have children..." "You're getting stuck in your head again" "Then give me a night I can be stuck in forever. Each night's going to be long and lonely without you" "Don't worry, little omega. I'll light a fire in you that never goes out"

[blouisparadise]

We were asked to make a list of some of the bottom Louis fics that are “classics” for any new bottom Louies, so here’s that rec list. We mainly based this list on number of kudos and also chose fics that are more well known or discussed frequently, but please keep in mind that there are countless incredible fics that are just as good if not better than some of the fics on this list. Please support BL fics and even if you’re starting with the fics on this list, don’t be afraid to branch out and read the many other amazing BL fics in this fandom. We promise you won’t regret it. Happy reading!

1) Like An Animal (I Want To Feel You From The Inside) | Explicit | 4466 words

Harry and Louis get a little stuck. Literally.        

2) To Be A Muse May Be Enough | Explicit | 6846 words

Note: This fic has since been deleted, but we’ve added a link to the PDF.

When Zayn came to him with a job, Louis never expected to be sat in a studio, wearing lipstick and reading a book about Death whilst being plugged with a vibrator. Did he also mention he’s being filmed by the fittest photographer he’s ever seen?

3) A Virgin To That Money | Explicit | 7366 words

AU. Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can't find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.)

4) Makes Perfect | Explicit | 8610 words

“What if you practiced on like, a mannequin?” Louis presses. “Or one of those blow up sex dolls? Or even just like, I don’t know, a pillow or something. Whatever it’d fit around.” Harry tilts his head thoughtfully, curls catching the light so entrancingly that Louis finds himself reaching up to push his fingers through them. “It’s different, though, innit? When it’s a real person. A pillow won’t snog me.” “Why should it?” says Louis. “You can’t even take its bra off.”              

5) Just Walk My Way | Explicit | 10271 words

Louis is a Victoria's Secret Angel, and Harry is the main act of the night.

6) With Love Comes Strange Currencies | Explicit | 16508 words

One day One Direction will be over and Louis won't be around Harry every waking moment. He'll be able to finally get some space, let their bond dissipate as it's bound to do, if they don't mess up again. He can move to Costa Rica and forget that Harry Styles popped his first knot inside him. Until then, he's going to have to deal with this.

7) These Roads We Stumble Down | Explicit | 18233 words

Harry picks up a hitchhiker in Oxford, and it’s a long ride to Glasgow.

8) My English Love Affair | Explicit | 19198 words

The one where Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.              

9) A Grocery List Pinned In Blue | Explicit | 19839 words

After eight years, Louis finally has everything he’s wanted. Except for Harry.

10) Like A Bastard On The Burning Sea | Explicit | 22981 words

AU. Harry breaks Louis, Louis breaks everything.         

11) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Sequel #1 | Sequel #2

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

12) Have You Coming Back Again | Explicit | 31086 words | Sequel

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

13) If I Should Stay | Explicit | 31185 words

Louis is a television actor who suddenly needs a bodyguard.  Harry is the bodyguard he ends up hiring. 

14) Like A Timebomb Ticking | Explicit | 31734 words

Louis loses everything. Harry's still there. 

15) Mine Now | Explicit | 32254 words

Note: This fic was deleted, so we’ve linked to a PDF.

This is the story of how Harry finds himself pouting in Louis’ passenger seat with a raging boner on the way to seduce his ex boyfriend.

16) Nicotine | Explicit | 32245 words

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

17) (Your Heartbeat) Rang True Inside My Bones | Explicit | 32945 words

Harry goes as Louis' date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

18) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

19) Some Things Take Root | Explicit | 50269 words

AU. Louis’ ex doesn’t get jealous of anyone besides Harry. Harry helps Louis use that to his advantage.      

20) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63000 words

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

21) Louis Lucas | Explicit | 67999 words

Pornstar!AU. Louis is a pornstar with more issues than he can drink away. Harry is a bisexual singer/songwriter who is desperate to be signed to a major label. Zayn and Liam are Louis’s long-suffering best friends (who also happen to be pornstars, and also happen to be dating each other). Niall just wants to play his guitar.

22) This Wicked Game | Explicit | 70010 words

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

23) Pinkies Never Lie | Explicit | 83616 words

AU in which Louis hates his job and loves Harry, Harry just wants a distraction, everyone else wants them to get their shit together, and Louis learns the hard way that new beginnings are only possible when something ends.

24) Your Name is Tattooed on My Heart | Explicit | 86809 words

Note: There are mentions of TL in this fic.

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

25) And Down the Long and Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

26) Here In The Afterglow | Explicit | 88649 words

1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

27) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

28) Baby Heaven’s In Your Eyes | Explicit | 120878 words

They couldn’t be more different if they tried. Louis Tomlinson is 17 years old and in his last year of the most prestigious private school in Doncaster. If there’s one thing that completely annoys him, it’s that there is a poor community college right across the street.

Harry Styles is 19 years old, and (once again) in his last year of college. He goes to community college in Doncaster. He never shows up to classes and if he actually bothers to, he’s either high or drunk; sometimes both. His skin is littered with tattoos and if there’s one thing he absolutely hates, it’s the snobby students attending the private school right across from his.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry

[mr-gooseyshoes]

(ASKS ARE OPEN!!! Version 1.1. The original should be referred to as ‘Version 1.0’. Full size of the regular version [3000x1000] in my Sta.sh!

Feel free to ask these guys questions! Or maybe roleplay with any of them. I have enough spare time for both! 😊

Anything with an asterisk is IRL or other matters involving the character.

‘COO’ stands for ‘country of origin’, ‘COR’ stands for ‘country of residence’.)

Info on each character, prepare for a long read.

🍰 Mr. Gooseyshoes 🎸

Full name: Yvan August Gooseyshoes (Originally nameless, then titled ‘Clumsy One’, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'4 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: August 31st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1931

COO: France 🇫🇷

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (When I decided to play around with my Robloxian’s look, I made the limbs and torso different colors: left arm green, right arm red, torso blue, left leg white, right leg black. At the time, I couldn’t easily determine his gender, but he was undoubtedly male-presenting. This dated back between 2013 and -15, possibly making him the ‘youngest’ member.)

Beginning: Starting off in black & white comics translated from French, Yvan was a mischievous slapstick character with a lack of common sense. He had companions; his cousin Kenneth (can also be called ‘Ken’ or ‘Kenny’), and a rogue clown named Barry. He was the clumsiest of all, and was (and still is!) known to swing large items around, knocking the other two over; this lead to a fight, but they made up later.

(cont.) Despite the antics and mean-spirited remarks the two made at strangers without him, Yvan mostly stuck to jokes and harmless pranks…when he’s not accidentally being hit in the face with planks and canes. There were even colored animated shorts of the three, a series which only lasted a couple of years due to budget problems; the three went their separate ways, until meeting again decades later.

📖 Ollie 🎶

Full name: Oliviero Percy Rigatoni (Originally just ‘Oliviero’)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: September 18th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1971

COO: Italy 🇮🇹

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I drew a picture of a man with blue skin and reddish-pink eyes, somewhat like the current design. The only things that haven’t changed are his hair and eyes. This estimates back to 2011.)

Beginning: N/A (TFW you’re too mentally exhausted to continue writing stories about your own characters. Don’t worry, I’ll get to it!)

⛪ Doug the Dog 🎼

Full name: Douglas Noah Beagle

Species: Anthro dog toon

Height: 3'2 ft

Est. age: Early 30s / Canonical birthday: May 21st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1994

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (In this universe, he’s a toon; but in the real world? He’s an arts & crafts sockpuppet from my old church, hence why I gave him a cross and halo. He doesn’t have his ears, but the hair is there. I also based the sweater off his sock design, making the brown a little darker so it didn’t look weird. Est. 2004-5, making him the ‘oldest’.)

Beginning: There was a drop of Christian faith in the neighborhood. A local church had lost a lot of members over the years, the lack of interest among youth causing too many seats to go unfilled. Thanks to 3 of the churchgoers having a knack for drawing; they passed around ideas back and forth until eventually settling with Doug and his family; his father Harry, his uncle Rufus, and eventually, Roxanne in “Episode 10: Someone I Know Isn’t A Christian. What Do I Do?”. They already had their own website, and Flash animation was all the rage at the time!

(cont.) Was it easy? Not really. But Doug did have fans, even receiving letters from a few of them straight to the church nearly daily. The makers received a lot of attention across the web, the cartoon dog being loved for several different reasons; his important life lessons, his adorable appearance, his kindness, and his relatable nature. Some news: As all 3 animators started raising families of their own, the responsibility of running the series went to younger members so that the original ones could spend time with their kids. (A lot of time passed since 1994. They were 14, 15 and 16 upon starting; the 9 new members are all between 15 and 30.)

📼 Troy ⚽

Full name: Troy Nate Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 3'10 ft

Est. age: 13 years 🔞 / Canonical birthday: December 9th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1979 (First televised 1985. Seems he’s been a youngin for an awfully long time…)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (Like Ollie, he started off as a drawing; I even drew him with a tornado for a mouth once. The only differences being that I gave him longer hair up front, and a wardrobe unlike his original one.)

Beginning: Two brothers had a great idea for a show; animated figures cross into the real world via portal, walking into the backyard of a human kid named Jesse. Troy would be seen exploring elements foreign to him; such as ladybugs, soccer balls, and the grass being green. Because of time limits, Troy was never given a mouth outside of concept art, which meant not worrying about lip syncing when they had other things to do.

(cont.) Jesse taught Troy how to play 1-on-1 soccer, then taught him how to spell larger words such as ‘dictionary’ and ‘encyclopedia’. The show also had montages of Jesse chasing after the one-eyed people (including Troy), which was a running gag involving disguises and leaving messes behind. The show ended in 1990, 5 years after its first episode, as there was no more of the story to tell. To this day, he is still a child by choice.

📚 Mrs. Donaldson 🍇

Full name: Athena Jessica Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 5'2 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: April 15th / ‘Creation date’: December 12th, 1979 (First televised 1985.)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I thought of a beautiful cyclops-looking woman. Smart, too. She just popped up into my brain while drawing some art.)

Beginning: Before becoming an art teacher, Mrs. Donaldson was a guardian of her hometown (in our world, that’s like being a cop), making sure no one suffered as a result of crime. One day, she felt that Troy needed to be educated about alternate dimensions, which led her to take him to a vastly different version of America; or more specifically, a human family’s backyard in Tennessee. While the location was random, the weather was just right. Unfortunately, the portal was open for too long, a bunch of Troy and Athena’s people ran out from it with joy, then it closed behind them indefinitely. Due to the fuel inside of the portal wand being extremely hard to find in this dimension, they were gonna be stuck here for a while.

(cont.) They were not ones to panic so quickly; instead, they sought out knowledge and resources from this different Earth. She played the role of protecting these people before, and would gladly do it again. Athena did not star in as many episodes as her son did, her count being 283 out of 294. She also taught morals when not teaching the basics of art, ranging from honesty to sharing. Parents complained about her old outfit, so the brothers had to put her in what she wears now to avoid being cancelled before wrapping things up.

💷 Ken 🚬

Full name: Kenneth Joseph Cross

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3.5 ft

Est. age: Early-to-mid 20s / Canonical birthday: March 4th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 19??

COO: United Kingdom 🇬🇧 (Made by a Frenchman, though.)

COR: See ‘COO’ (Sometimes goes to America, but only to visit relatives.)

True origin*: (Okay, so I thought ‘Why not draw a guy with a large grin/frown?’ I sometimes pictured him in black & white stripes as well, but maybe I’ll use that kind of design for his pre-color days.)

Beginning: N/A

🎭 “Barry The Buffoon” 🔨

Full name: Fionnbharr Patrick Emmett (Originally nameless, then only titled as “The Buffoon”, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'1 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: May 6th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 1931

COO: Scotland (Made by a Frenchman, though. No Scottish flag emoji? Boo. ;n;)

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I was inspired from watching some cartoon shorts from the 20s and 30s, mainly B&W ones. Plus, I wanted to give this random clown a meaningful role.)

Beginning: N/A

🍮 Buford 🐕

Full name: Sir Buford of Birmingham XIV (the 14th)

Species: Quadruped dog toon

Height: 1'3 ft

Est. age: Bet. 1-5 years / Canonical birthday: September 1st / ‘Creation date’: January 29th, 2003

COO: England 🇬🇧

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I imagined Yvan having a talking dog who truly loved his master, making sure he was happy and healthy. I hope he actually looks like a Scottish terrier, or at least some kind of terrier breed/mix.)

Beginning: Sir Buford was one of the secondary antagonists of a show called “Canines Out Of Line", an ongoing series about bipedal dogs breaking the law, spending money carelessly, and doing things I shouldn’t mention. (equivalent rating of TV-14) Buford was a dog that gained the ability to speak by accidentally eating a dog treat, which his then-owner pulled out of a strange beaker containing unnamed chemicals. It was meant to be thrown out, but Dr. Mecha (no medical degree) wasn’t fast enough. She marvelled at how her pet (at the time) started talking like an Englishman, taking notes on his newfound vocal abilities.

(cont.) Sadly, when word spread around the neighborhood about a talking dog, the COOL blew up Dr. Mecha’s lab and tried to force Buford to join; he refused, and was held hostage. He fought them off, escaped back to his home, and came back to see the female scientist who cared for him still alive, making it a happy-ish ending. Despite that, things only got darker from there. From the start, he was determined to bring C.O.O.L. down, one way or another.

More characters coming soon?

#yvan #ollie #doug #troy #ask blog open #roleplay blog open #toons #character refs i think? #yay an actual post! #version 1.1 #athena #kenneth #barry #buford #dog #clown #this post is so weird... #like it lets me edit on my tablet but not my phone? #does this need any trigger tags? say something! #08/09/2018 #thingymajig

[royallyanxious]

Collapsing Star Prologue

So I’ve started yet another story this time with a big pinch of moxiety (and eventual prinxiety because I’m a trash and can’t write anything else bye)

Collapsing Star

Obviously you can read it on AO3

next chapter

Parings: one sided moxiety, eventual prinxiety, logicality

word count: 2582

tw: depression and anxiety disorder

Roman is sitting relaxed on Patton's sofa, laughing at one of his puns. They accidentally bumped into each other few weeks ago just after Roman moved back to his hometown. That was their first meeting since high school times. Yet Patton's pun remained just as pure as they used to be. And Logan is still getting as annoyed as he used to be upon hearing them. The only difference is that now Patton kisses down each of Logan's frowns. Roman smiles. He's happy that these two found their way together. He used to ship them so hard during the school times and when he learnt that Logan is going overseas to study his heart broke. Apparently he came back after two years, called Patton and week later they were happy couple. They now have been dating for 3 years and Roman couldn't get happier. And apparently so do they.

"Oh man so many things has changed since high school..." sighs Roman "You two are together. I, instead of being a hollywood star, am managing the theater... So many has changed..." He looks around the comfy apartment Logan and Patton share. It’s so cozy, he has never been here before and yet it feels like home already.

"But is it a bad thing though?" beams Patton "As long as we're all happy it shouldn't matter what we accomplished and have yet to accomplish in our lifes!"

"Agreed." nods Logan and delicately squeezes Patton thigh.

"And I'm so glad that you came back to Florida Ro!" adds Patton grabbing a cookie "We've missed you so much here! This town seems so boring without you!"

"Well Patton, technically the number of residents of this city makes it almost impossible to avoid any interesting situa-" he stops in the middle of the sentence and the smile drops off his face "Your earbud is..."

Patton with one quick move clicks the earbud which has been in his ear since Roman walked through the door. Now that he thinks of it Patton has been wearing it every time since the reunion in grocery store few weeks ago.

"Hello?" asks Patton. He's not smiling anymore. His face is serious and his lips form one thin line. Roman can't remember seeing Patton like that. "Never." Says Patton after few seconds and Roman catches a sight of sadness in his eyes. Apparently someone on the other side of the phone has said something sad or disturbing. Patton has always been a sensitive guy. He gestures Logan to give him a piece of paper and quickly notes down some address "Okay I have this. Stay on the phone. I'm coming. Stay on the phone." he says and quickly walks out of the room. Soon the front door shuts and Patton leaves. Confused Roman looks at Logan who sighs and rests his elbows on knees.

"A lot has changed since you left Roman." he clears his throat awkwardly. This is new to Roman too. He knows that Logan hardly ever has problems with explaining things, but this time he seems to be clearly uncomfortable.

"You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Lo. I understand that we may have… grown apart a little bit" says Roman, even though he's really curious. He knows that his friends' feelings go first so if Logan doesn't want to talk about it- he's not going to force him.

"No, it's nothing really..." Logan exhales loudly "Despite the time that has passed I still consider you one of my closest friends Roman." he smiles slightly and Roman smiles back. He's glad that the relation between them hasn't faded away completely and now they can restore this friendship.

"So?" asks Roman and moves a little bit closer. Now he can ask about details. The tight grip on his heart disappeared being replaced with new one. Why was Patton sad? What happened when he Romas was away?

"So you know Patton..." Logan's voice is a little bit softer when he says the name of his boyfriend "He's the best human walking on this world. He sees the best in people and he loves to help others..."

"Mhm..."

"Few months ago Patton has registered into this program."

"What program?"

"It's called...Guardian Angel... I doubt you’ve heard of it. It’s this kind of program you wouldn't never hear about unless you look for it. And believe me Patton was looking for something like this for a long time... But let’s start from beginning, shall we? You remember that he used to suffer from depression, right?"

Roman nods quietly. These were dark days. The diagnosis and the struggles Patton has to face every day... Finally he managed to win with the illness but Roman knows that he still has to check up at doctor from time to time.

"So Guardian Angel is about helping people with depression and other mental illnesses. The recreation process is long and arduous but Patton of course was determined to become someone's angel. He passed all the tests. And it’s not easy to pass them for someone who himself has had troubles with mental illnesses…. So after that he had to wait for a person who needed help and was willing to put themselves under Patton's care."

"Willing to?" Roman raises his eyebrow.

"Yes, the person of whom you're taking care of chooses the guardian themselves. Patton was like a little teddy bear to be shot down at the lottery. It made me a little bit mad because Patton being Patton was worried that no one will like him enough to choose him. But... after weeks of waiting someone has appeared... A boy though he would be offended if he heard me speaking like that about him." Logan chuckles "He's 19 now, but he was 17 back then... his name... his name is Virgil. And Patton is up to his disposition 24 hours per day, 7 days per week. He even have a special earbud. You must have noticed it. So whenever Virgil doesn’t do well or needs help Patton is there to pick up the phone which mostly ends up with him taking Virgil home.”

Roman leans, trying to analyses what Logan has just said to him.

"So now Patton is...?"

"Yes, picking up Virgil. They will probably come here if Virgil feels like meeting someone new. But I think he doesn’t mind that too much. So unless you want to leave, you can stay. You're no bother Roman." Logan stands up "I have to make some tea. Virgil will probably want something hot to drink... He was probably wandering around the town with his friends again. It always ends up like that... He gets hurt and..."

Roman follows Logan to the kitchen and watches as his friend boils the water. Suddenly a question pops into his mind.

"Are how do you feel about this situation?" he asks and Logan smiles slightly.

"At first it was weird... You know technically I’m no one to Virgil. I mean, I���m not the part of the project so at first I felt a little bit excluded. Especially since there are days when Virgil has to stay with us for a few days... And sometimes he needs to be taken to the doctor... Things like that felt weird at the beginning but now..." the smile grows wider "He feels almost like a little brother you have to take care of which is a pain but you still love him. It's hard to explain but despite all these horrible things he has been through Virgil is great person. And he has grown up so much during past two years! You wouldn't believe! He's so much mature now! He's not attending college yet but we're slowly thinking about it. He's health goes first so I sometimes teach him some random stuff from my textbooks, you know Roman and... wait what are you laughing about?" Logan frowns and Roman can't hold the laughter inside anymore.

"I've never thought about you in terms of proud father Lo!" he exclaims finally as he somehow manages to conduct a series of breathes in order to calm himself down. Logan snorts.

"If you spend as much of your time with someone like Virgil you would be proud of him too."

"Yea... That's what I dream of Lo.” Roman’s voice is laced with sarcasm “Handsome male with sad background story and I'm his prince on white horse! But in my vision I'm his lover. Not his mother, Logan!" laughs Roman. He knows he shouldn't but he still laughs. He feels a spark of excitement when corners of Logan's lips travel up.

"You haven't changed at all Roman." he shakes his head and pours the tea with water. Small, cozy kitchen fills with the smell of green tea and mint. "Do you like mint tea? Sorry that's all I have since Patton started freaking out about Virgil's health, all we eat and drink recently are greens." he says it completely seriously but Roman can sense a tickle of humor in the tone of Logan's voice.

"Mint is okay." replies Roman and Logan take another mug out of the cupboard. All of them are covered with colorful dots except of one which has little purple bat on it. Roman doesn't need a genius to guess who's the owner of this mug. He tries to imagine Virgil. He’s probably shy… With blonde angelic locks and big, green eyes. Following Patton everywhere like a lost puppy. Most likely wearing all grey. And on the top of that- gay. Roman hums to himself.

"Logan aren't you jealous though?" he asks with curiosity after few minutes.

"What do you mean?" Logan looks at him with surprise.

"I mean... Patton and Virgil must share a special bond since Patton is his ‘angel’, oh my that sounds stupid but anyway... The age gap between them is only 4 years too. And as you said before you don’t have access to everything they do. And that earbud thingy… Doesn’t it worry you a little bit? I know that you consider Virgil as your younger brother but... He doesn't have to think that way. Okay and now you’re laughing? Great just great, would you enlighten me what you find so funny?” Roman grunts embarrassed watching Logan holding his stomach as a wave of giggles comes from his mouth.

"Don't worry friend. First of all, Virgil and Patton tell me everything. I don’t feel excluded even in the slightest. Second of all... Virgil has hinted us recently that he may or may not have a girlfriend."

"Straight? In 21st century?" mocks Roman teasingly and Logan raises hands in defense.

"Hey, I'm no one to judge! He knows that I will support him no matter what. But." he stops abruptly and points at Roman "You. Don't you dare to hit on this boy. Playboy."

"I'm not a boy anymore Lo-ogic." snorts bored voice from the corridor and Roman immediately turns around. So that must be Virgil. He looks nothing like Roman has imagined. He's leaning over the door-frame with his hands crossed on the chest. He's wearing a dark leather jacket and black skinny jeans. His bangs is dyed purple and Roman would say that he looks like a classical bad-boy if it wasn't that Virgil's whole face is smudged with resting of black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Streams of tears are still visible on his cheeks.

"Oh Virgil. You're here. How amazing." smiles Logan softly. "Oh you too Patton. I've made you some tea. Sit down, both of it. You must be tired. So Pat, did it go smoothly?" asks Logan as Patton sits next to Roman who feels a little bit out of place right now. He watches as Virgil lazily walks over to the chair and literally falls onto it. He leans his head back with closed eyes. Roman finds it a little bit weird but basing on lack of reaction in both Logan and Patton's posture he assumes that it's normal.

"He forgot to take his meds again." sighs Patton with a pinch of accusation in his voice.

"Oh." escapes from Logan's mouth.

"For a week." finishes Patton.

"Oh!" this sigh is much more aggressive and both Logan and Patton stares into Virgil's exposed neck as if they were trying to burn holes in it.

"I just didn't feel like it." mumbles Virgil more to himself than to Logan or Patton. The purple lacy ribbon around his neck, moves slightly on his Adam’s apple.

"Well young man you know I will have to report that." Patton clicks his tongue. "Could you at least tell me if you have them with you?"

Virgil rolls his head and finally faces Roman. Until now Roman hasn't realized that he is sitting directly in front of Virgil. He gulps. This is awkward but Virgil doesn’t seem to care about Roman at all. Not something Roman has expected from a mentally ill person but who is he to judge.

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't..." hums Virgil almost cheerfully and takes out his phone.

"Virgil." Logan's voice is cold and sends chills down Roman's spine but it seems that it doesn't bother Virgil even in the slightest. He types something into the phone, waiting if either Patton or Logan say something more.

"Okay I will take them now." he groans finally after replying to some text and takes off small box. Roman can't see the name of the medicine but it's pretty obvious that it's antidepressants. Virgil quickly gulps the pill. "Satisfied?"

Logan sighs and Patton smiles brightly.

"You want us to treat you like an adult and yet you act like this..." says Logan, gets up from the table and leaves the room mumbling something about writing to the doctor.

Roman notices that Virgil almost immediately buries his nose in his phone.

"Who are you texting kiddo?" asks Patton sweetly and Virgil flinches a little bit. His bangs fall into his eyes more and more.

"No one special." Comes a quick reply.

"Girlfriend?" chuckles Patton.

"Maybe." replies Virgil shortly with his eyes still glued to the phone.

Patton giggles once again.

"Do you want some more tea Roman? Oh right! Roman you don't know Virgil. I mean officially! Roman this is my little Virgil. Virgil honey this is my old friend Roman."

Virgil finally brings himself to look up at Roman.

"Sup?" he says quickly and his gaze drops down again.

"Nice to meet you too..." snorts Roman. Patton laughs as if he was watching a good comedy, not an awkward meeting. He gets up and ruffles Virgil's hair.

"I'll be back in a minute." he says and turns around.

Huge blush crawls on Virgil's face and he quietly looks above his shoulder at Patton who disappears in the door. Small smile wanders in the corner of his lips and Roman gasps. Virgil instantly turns his gaze on Roman and bites his lip. They for a while stare at each other trying to read each other's expression. Virgil is the first one who turns away his eyes.

"Guilty." flashes through Roman's head but he stays silent. Instead his clicks his tongue. To his utter surprise Virgil hisses at him.

"What the-"

"What?" grunts Virgil and his gaze falls back on the phone "Have you never seen a hissing emo with make-up ruined from crying."

Roman laughs quietly.

"No, I have not."

"You're welcome then." Virgil's eyes look up for a tiny piece of second before dropping down again.

#prinxiety #moxiety #one-sided #sanders sides #logicality #platonic analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #kpop angst #i like writing angst sorry #tw depression #tw anxiety #princey sanders #ts princey #ts fandom #ts virgil #collapsingstar #no one give a fxxx about my writing tho

[eris0330]

Hiraeth - Part Three

☽Pairing☾ ; BTS | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 1.4k

☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.

☽M. List☾ ;  1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // 18 // 19 // 20 // 21 // 22 [ongoing]

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

"Have you thought about who to approach first?" Your attention drawn to the woman up front, as the food arrived for the early mornings of a foggy city. Jane invited you to brunch for the time being, wanting to hear more of the program you had been attending for four years.  

"I never thought of it...I think all of them would be too... shocked to see me? If that makes sense..." You muttered, thinking of the possibilities of meeting just ONE of the boys, was too scary enough of a thought. To be fair, you were close with all of them and there wasn't any favourites. "How do I even see them in the first place?"  

"That depends, if you want to do it by yourself, or me helping you?" Jane asked, peeking her eyebrow for a simple answer. Biting on your bottom lip as a response, thinking that it was weird for another one to give out the information that you were finally back, but it also soothes your mind of the thought that you didn't have to do it yourself.  

"How about you try to reach them, and if you're stuck, you can come to me for guidance?" She requested with a smile, blowing on her hot eggs before taking in a bite of the first meal of the day. You couldn't help but mirror her, as you nodded along in agreement.  

"Just like the old days..."  

-------

"Where were you guys? Practice started half-an-hour ago?" The leader spoke exhausted from the first dance as a start, watching Jin and Jungkook enter the hot white room. The two had a glance of each other, before the eldest decided to talk.  

"We went to grab coffee" He excused, making the others sit down on a chair to relax for the time being. It wasn't a normal thing for them to be late, especially when they knew how annoying it was to miss a member in the routine.  

"Oh yeah? Where is your coffee then? And why didn't you ask any of us to go with ya?" Taehyung spoke from the floor, leaning against the now, dirty mirror. Jungkook decided to avoid eye contact, to the floor, not wanting to blow this into proportion when they all knew how bad he was at lying.  

"We drank it already, sorry we didn't ask you to come with" Jin answered, putting his bag down along with the others at the corner. Namjoon shook his head, as if it was too much for a scolding over a cup of coffee. Besides, he wouldn't care regardless.  

"You went to search for Y/N again... didn't you?" A shocking accusation that even sent chills down the others spine, as Jimin walked further to approach the youngest member. His hands grabbing roughly around the collar of Jungkook's shirt, to get his attention for once. The rest of the group, were too conflicted if they should go in and stop it, or wait to see what this were all about.  

"You overheard or conversation the other day..." Jin mumbled, trying to sound harsh in his words, but failed at the sight of Jimin's pained face at Jungkook. The younger brother could barely form words, as to how this situation escalated so quickly. Jimin might be smaller than Jungkook, but their strength was like wise, to an even fight. If Jungkook did try to fight out of his grip, they would only end up with bruises and bad excuses for their next fan sign.  

"You went to search for her, even though I strictly told you not to?!" Jimin's vocals were shaking, convulsing the other member by the collar. His eyes turning from sweet to dangerously pained, that it was too much for Yoongi to continue watching. His dark approach of the fighting members, while laying a hand on Jimin's shoulder to let go of his forceful grip. Jungkook continued to stay silent, because there was no reason to lie, when Jimin was telling the truth. The room was quiet, awfully quiet and as if everything happened in slow motion. Taehyung and Hoseok were more or less speechless, hating to confront in the matters of a conflict in the group. Jin and Namjoon were nothing but watching the scene unfold, giving each other glances throughout it all as if they read minds.  

"Let it go, Jimin" Yoongi claimed, pulling Jimin's shoulder to retreat a distance from the quiet boy up front. The reaction of Jimin's fury was enough to slap the hand away from his body, to feel the anger build in his muscles.  

"No, I'm not going to let this go! We agreed to never do this again!" The blond haired shouted into the open room, making the other gulp of the sudden atmosphere that were created due to frustration. Yoongi could barely hold his own anger at bay, trying to pull at his shoulder once again with accept of the other.  

"But I saw her..." Jungkook finally managed to whisper, but it sounded like a shout to the rest of the group. His eyes stinging of the scolding, but this case was different and he needed to stand up for it.  

"No, Jungkook! What you saw, was a memory of her. Like we all do." Jimin spoke with gritted teeth, and Jin couldn't help but pull Jungkook under his wings to the unfairness of his mistake. Yoongi whispered to stop it before he would regret anything, but Jimin were not having any of it. He was furious, and it was always like that when it came to you.  

"What do you want? Don't tell me I'm the only one suffering from nightmares? From her smile disappearing in the abyss? From her warm hugs to encouraging words? Her memories-" Jungkook spoke determent, as the tears dwelt in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering at his own painful act, to find justice of it all he continued to speak. "-No, our memories of her. Shouldn't be forgotten. We should cherish them, but you all act like she never existed! She was the greatest person in our lives, and I can't express my delightful nightmares without being shut down? I'm going crazy at the sight of her, but three days ago, I finally did. I'm sure. You're not supposed to tell me to give up, you're supposed to help me.... don't disregard the love we had for her...please..." Jungkook couldn't hold back his warm tears, as they reached his jawline. Jin were speechless, but comforted the younger member with his hand and own heartbeat, knowing he was speaking the truth.  

The group were frozen in their positions, and wanted to regret every thought up until now. Whenever your name was mentioned briefly, their instincts told them to brush it away. Because, if they continued to speak of the memories they had with you, pain would come harder when time went away. The fear, and loss of your absence, was enough to shut their feelings into a box and lock it away for eternity. Jimin tried that multiple times, but failed regardless. His tears were nothing more than compassion to Jungkook's. By any means, Jimin could barely see a picture of you, without wanting to cry while screaming your name, in hopes of your return. It's been like that ever since; your laughter was never heard again. The group displayed their best side of themselves in public, but behind the curtains they were timid and quiet, hurt. Hoseok was the one member, that had troubles to not show his hurtful feelings, even anger. Excuse after excuse, to the press and fans that it was probably just a bad clip online and he was fine as always. Someone had to tell them sometime, but they never knew it had to be Jungkook.  

"You know... we never got to have a Christmas with her... even New Years." Hoseok muttered from his chair, gathering the courage to speak loud and clear to the others. He wanted to help, to release the brick on their shoulders to feel a little lighter.  

"Do you think she's still wearing it?" Namjoon questioned softly, as the attention flew across the room. Everyone was feeling tense, but it slowly became easier. The way that no one should be afraid to speak, of the things they tried to run from. It was time, to get it off their chest after years in a dark hole.

#bts texts #bts #sfwbangtan #bcgnet #bangtan #bts fluff #bts angst #drama #hiraeth #angst #jungkook #jimin #jin #namjoon #hoseok #j hope #v #taehyung #yoongi #suga #rapmonster #seokjin #bts fanfic #fanfic #ff

[dynamicallyoff]

I often tell my friends that I feel like Harry Potter: Undesirable Number One.

Words tumble messily from my lips, trying to accurately articulate the foreignness of the concept of couplehood. Stuttering in fear they do not understand me and the weight I carry knowing that I do not date because no one I pursue ever wants to pursue me. I daydream about finding one-tenth of what my friends find as they pursue romantic and sexual relationships. From where I watch they nearly effortlessly go from dating one person to another. They find connection, they find love, they find it’s not working out and move on to someone else where they have found mutual interest. I am at once happy for them, jealous of what they have found, and bitter that I can try to understand and be happy for them but they cannot try to understand and be sad for me.

When I didn’t date in high school my friends said I would have better luck in college, when it didn’t happen to me in college they said in grad school, when it didn’t happen in grad school they said in the workforce, etc, etc. Amen.

At 19 Michael and I flirted all summer at camp, when we were supposed to be supervising campers during movie nights we talked under the stars; instead of planning the next week of lessons we ate orange sorbet and laughed for hours. After returning home I said we should keep talking. He said he had a girlfriend back at school. I laughed and cried simultaneously. I had my first kiss at 23 and he told me that he was “quite fond” of me and promptly began dating another girl one month later. My next hopeful encounter would not occur for another 25 months when I went to dinner with an old classmate, had a wonderful time, and who informed me in no uncertain terms that he was busy; talking to me generally and seeing me again specifically was not a priority. It stung.

So at a friend’s suggestion I tried a new tack. I joined Bumble and after three months I was able to face the immutable truth: I’m a black woman and I was not made for this. Only once did a guy ask me out, never once was I told I am attractive, engaging, or in any way worthy of pursuit.

My blackness, my otherness are always at the forefront of my mind.

Prior to my little experiment I read a study conducted by OkCupid regarding response rates. They described that black women were the most likely to respond to messages, but the least likely to receive responses back (from men of all races). Conversely white men receive the most responses and are least likely to respond. Typical. I felt doomed before I even began this new adventure.

Anthony asked me to meet up so we could discuss how to dismantle the patriarchy, and I thirsted for the potential this conversation would yield. I told my friends I was worried meeting strangers from online would be horrible experience; that they would be over flirtatious, attempt sexual assault, stalk me like in one of the movies. More realistically, I worried about fetishization, sexualization, getting into something I was ill prepared for even in my mid-20s. I told my friends that I feared that I would be called someone’s dark chocolate princess, or have my hair exoticized since I have made the Big Chop and started to wear my natural hair, or that I would hear comments that I was “too black” or “too white”.

Honestly, I shouldn’t have bothered worrying. None of the boys said anything about me at all.

Although one boy told me that he found it attractive that I do ballet, another guy and I bonded over politics, and yet another tried to endear myself to him by telling me about his DUI. They did not ask about my job, my family, my dreams, my likes, my life. No one asked me out, or propositioned me for sex, or said anything one way or the other. These are not the experiences that beget fairytales or happily ever afters.

I want to cry, I want to complain, I want to scream that I have been unable to find love. My friends tell me I need to get out there more. I want to tell them to stop invalidating my experiences to make my feel better. I want to tell them that I put myself out there, say hello to nice boys, ask them out, and still get less than crumbs.

I try to save face. I am a very forward person; I tell people how I feel and if someone catches my interest I pursue. I do not always wait to see if a guy will ask me out, and I have no qualms to ask him out to dinner or coffee. There are more occasions I am shot down than I like to admit, and I do not always tell my friends about this in my shame. It is easier to say that I am taking a break from trying to meet boys than to tell them that my affections are unwanted and need not apply.

A week after I met up with Anthony, I suggested going out again. We made plans and he canceled at the last minute. I suggested we reschedule.

I didn’t hear back.

My second meet up was with Logan. A nice country boy living in the next town over. I messaged him that I was accepted into my top PhD program and I was ready to celebrate. We decided on tacos and talked about our families, our jobs, our experiences.

Another week and he ceased communication as well.

Two months later I met John. He canceled our coffee date after he was meant to be there. I didn’t even make noises to reschedule this time.

I am angry, I am bitter, I am jealous. I am better off alone.

Bumble allowed me to try on different aspects of my personality and discard them like an ill-fitting tshirt when they no longer served my interests. For some I was nice, compliant, flirtatious, I overly used emoticons and became the girls I see in movies. For others I was confident in my skin, proud of my accomplishments, discussed my goals. Ultimately, none of the methods I tried had any semblance of success as a black woman in a predominantly white area. Black women are simply not desirable.

When I started this experiment I laid some ground rules and said that I would try to swipe right on any guy who sparked my interest and every match would receive a message from me. My first few weeks on the app I kept records of the numbers. My first week I matched with exactly 30 men, all 30 received messages. 7 responded. One unmatched with me as soon as I said hello, 5 ceased responding after we exchanged pleasantries. It was not until day 12 that I matched with Logan and day 13 I matched with Anthony. By day 20 I had matched with a total of 48 guys. By day 30 I was no longer in communication with either of Anthony or Logan. After 3 months only 5 different guys kept up communication for longer than 3 days and the only invitation I received to go out came from that first invitation from Anthony early in my Bumble endeavor.  

Does everyone else suffer the same trials and tribulations? Is this why it is such a celebration to be young and in love?

I fear I will never know.

#personal #text post #shouting into the void #I told my friend I would blog about it to give the experience some meaning #single life