#you are what matters and your own progress is all due to you efforts

[moshieee]

I freaking love watching people's art styles evolve, develop, refine and grow as they learn and draw overtime!!!

You have no idea how much I love seeing the artists I follow and/or consider friends being proud of their art because sweets you deserve that feeling!!!

you put in so much time and if you ever say you feel bad about your art I will shake you and try to forcibly show you how amazing you are!!!

#this is for all artists too #i love seeing art and i will continue to love seeing it #if you ever feel bad about your art shut up look at how far you have come on your journey #it doesn't matter where others are #you are what matters and your own progress is all due to you efforts #your efforts and strength and beauty #please stop doubting yourself #i am going to hug you (if comfortable) and tell you how beautiful your style is untill you understand #uniques is not a curse #you can leaen from others and their styles but you are your own brand and dont ever feel bad about that #art #artist #art advice #i guess? #moshieee rambles

[narumi-gens]

boundaries gojo satoru x f!reader

post-breakup!gojo who can't quite follow through on the breaking up. he's as present in your life after he ended things as he was when you were still dating.

he still blows up your phone at all hours with nothing important. he insists on holding your hand when you walk side-by-side. he still uses your apartment key, which you never had the heart to ask for him to return. you've ended up in more than one heated makeout session with him, although you have managed to keep them from progressing past him feeling up your tits over your bra.

and when you end up in the hospital after a mission, he shows up before even shoko can get there. you sigh when his towering form appears in the doorway of the room you've been given.

"looks worse than it is," you say and despite the way you slur your words due to the painkillers, it's true.

your concussion, while serious, isn't something that wouldn't heal on its own. your broken ribs managed to avoid puncturing any organs. even the burst blood vessel in your left eye that's colored the white of your eye a ghastly red is only really a surface-level injury.

but for once, the man who never shuts up stays silent as he pulls a chair close and sits at your bedside. he reaches for your hand but pauses when you wince at the pressure on the two fingers that are fractured and wrapped in a splint. instead, he settles for loosely holding onto your wrist.

"shoko's gonna fix it all anyways," you tell him through a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy. "'sides, you shouldn't even be here. boundaries, satoru. 'member?"

it's a word that you've tossed in his face so many times since the breakup that it's lost all meaning. and it doesn't help that you've never managed to say it with any sort of real weight. instead, it usually comes out on the end of a resigned sigh.

you can feel his gaze on you even through his dumb sunglasses. normally, even post-breakup, you would reach out and pull them down his nose to meet those cursed eyes of his and make some joke. but with your brain working at a diminished capacity and your arm hooked up to an IV full of the best painkillers japan's doctors have to offer, all you can do is slowly blink at him in return.

"it's always boundaries this, boundaries that with you," he finally retorts with a shake of his head, but offers nothing else.

"'f you didn't want boundaries then you shouldn't've ended things, y'big dummy," you mumble, and no longer able to keep your eyes open, you finally let them close.

"I told you. I don't have room in my life for anyone else – i.e., you," he replies bluntly and you can feel the fit of giggles that you want to burst into, but all you can manage is a soft huff of laughter.

"liar," you say with a sleepy smile stretching across your lips. "can't even be honest when I'm strung out on painkillers. psh. lame."

it takes monumental effort, but you manage to crack open an eye so that you can see him sporting his own cheeky grin.

silence settles over you both and you feel yourself slowly beginning to fall into the blackness as your breathing slows. the soothing sensation of gojo's thumb rubbing circles on the skin of your wrist only aids in pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

"you were considered a suitable match." even on the edge of consciousness, the disgust in his tone at those two words reaches you. "I couldn't let them get what they wanted."

you let out a quiet hum in acknowledgment and wish you had enough strength to open your eyes, curious to see if he's surprised you weren't fully asleep yet.

"still letting 'em control you, hm? s'good we broke up. want someone who's only tied down by me," you mumble.

"baby, if you want to tie me down, all you had to do was say so," he jokingly responds, unsurprisingly choosing to sidestep the gravity of your words, no matter how slurred they were.

"boundaries, 'toru..." you trail off as you finally succumb to sleep.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #it’s more angst-adjacent #mel writes #boundaries

[uglypastels]

Ridlington Park | I | Eddie Munson regency!au

Author's Note: It has been a long, long time, but I am back with another obnoxious AU. I hope you enjoy as we embark on this new adventure in Regency England. This story has been in the works for almost 2 years and is still far from finished, but I am having too much fun with this and have way too many ideas on where to take it, so suggestions are very much appreciated.

Word Count: 10k

Do be warned, Dear Reader, for this story in its entirety may contain:

female!reader. slow burn. forbidden romance. jealousy. pining. smut. alcohol consumption. swearing. OC family. horses. talks of arranged marriage. historical facts as well as trivial inaccuracies.

Due to the adult nature of the story, this author also kindly but sternly requires underage readers to pursue other works. 

Author's Previous Works | Correspondence | Join the Taglist

Chapter One: A Game of Perseverance

“I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them.”

– Jane Austen, Letter to her sister Cassandra, 1798

Three stories high, full of balconied windows, the house stood tall and overlooked the entire street. Ridlington Park, they called it, and situated at the centre of life–that is, London–the front door of the building was enveloped in flowers matching the seasons all year long. Currently, it was bright peonies that caught the onlooker’s eye. The perfectly trimmed bushes and trees were planted symmetrically, leading up to the front doors, giving visitors the right impression of what they could await once they stepped inside.

The residing family had spent a good fortune and effort ensuring the house represented them perfectly: clean, fortunate, and grand, but all done so in the utmost respectable and modest fashion as they were never the ones to boast. The walls had a light, warm tone reminiscent of early mornings in Spring, and the interior was decorated with portraits, new and old, beautiful oil sceneries of lands near and far, and busts and vases. 

The evening was slowly approaching, the sun setting over the windows of the drawing room, enwrapping everything in a golden glow. The family sat silently around the room, giving each other the peace and quiet required for an uneventful afternoon followed by a slow night of fortunate sleep. The only sound appreciated was the pianoforte siding against the window, gracefully played by Mother. Four children sat around the separate corners of their world, enjoying the music while focusing on their own activities. Like most nights, these consisted of either reading or needlework, engaging in small conversations with one another occasionally. 

As typical as any evening at Ridlington Park, it was highly unusual for the rest of London– a city which runs on scandals and gossip. Outside, the streets were bustling with lords and ladies of the Ton making their way back home from the markets, gardens and their fellows’ tea parties, gossiping about the latest impropriety to have occurred. After all, such topics, no more than nonsense really, were simply inescapable. And no matter how hard they tried to ignore it all, one way or another, it would always find its way up to the Byrnwick family. Most of the time, you, Gentle Reader, could hold yourself accountable for introducing the rumours proudly, much to your brother’s annoyance, who did his best to turn the pages of his novel as loud as possible as you talked with your mother from across the room. 

‘Have you heard what happened at Lady Faulkner’s ball?’

  ‘Yes, sordid, really.’ Your mother sighed, turning around. ‘I am sure her family is in quite the uproar.’

‘Please,’ Christopher, your brother, shut his book down in frustration, clearly incapable of making any progress amidst the conversation. ‘If she had not wanted to get caught, she should have maybe ought to think twice about being out with a man in the middle of the gardens for everyone to see.’ 

You glared up at him. ‘Well, it is absurd that a woman cannot even stand in a public space with a man without bringing disgrace onto her entire family.’

‘Believe me; she did much more than just standing.’ Christopher scoffed, quickly receiving a cold stare from your mother. 

‘Still, it is unjust.’ You ignored his insinuations. ‘Think of how men are free to go out at any time of day or night with whomever they please.’ You stabbed your needle through the cloth a bit harsher than intended.

‘My, you sure seem to be giving all this much thought. Have you any plans we should know about, sister?’ Your brother smirked.

‘Christopher!’ Your mother scowled. ‘That is quite enough.’

‘I was only joking, Mother,’ Christopher sighed, ‘we all know she is not going anywhere anytime soon.’

You were ready to retort angrily, or at least throw your needle at him, when the doors to the drawing room opened, catching everyone’s attention by storm. Five pairs of identical eyes directly aimed at the door frame, only softening when recognising the intruders. A welcoming of surprised gasps greeted the Lord and his eldest, Nicholas, as they entered the room. Not one foot in the room, and all activities were being put to a halt as the rest of the family gathered around the men—a loving reunion after a months-long journey from the Americas. 

It was a surprising return, for father and son had yet to write of their plans in recent times. The last letter was received at Ridlington Park over three weeks ago, stating that the weather was amiable, if not a bit too humid, and that the family missed each other deeply. The lack of correspondence, therefore, was also an immediate subject. 

‘But why did you not write, dear?’ asked Mother, after embracing her son. Nicholas was too occupied by his youngest sibling to answer; airways tightened in the arms of his 11-year-old sister, Marjorie. His father responded instead:

‘How could we write at sea, my love? The message would not have gotten here any faster than we did,’ the lord chuckled to his wife. He was correct, too, of course. His eyes seemed to surpass the gaze of his present family members in search of the one missing piece. ‘Where is Annabelle? I thought she would be home by now.’ 

‘She is home, with her husband,’ you explained carefully. Your father blinked slowly, coming to terms with this fact he had tried to avoid for so long. Annabelle had married last season and was very well off, to a Duke, no less, but it was still a big adjustment for the family seeing her gone and out of the house. Even with her frequent visits, it was strange to have one head less at the dinner table; one less chair occupied each evening, one less song played on the pianoforte. 

‘Ah, well then,’ Father cleared his throat, ‘then we are complete.’ He looked at his wife and five children. One day, there would be even fewer of them. They will all be leaving the nest one by one. For some, marriage was long overdue, and as a man of high society, he could not wish his children a suitor or a lady soon enough, but as a father, he dreaded the day that the following proposals would take place.

Marjorie, becoming impatient and not as sentimental about her family’s reunion, tugged at Nicholas’ sleeve. ‘Come, you must tell us everything about your journey!’ She kept pulling until the eldest brother had no choice but to follow her and sit on the couch. Soon, everyone else joined on the chaises. 

‘I am afraid there is very little to tell,’ Nicholas said, taking a chocolate biscuit off the tray beside the sofa. ‘It was all rather dull.’ 

‘Do not be ridiculous, brother,’ Fitzwilliam, the second-youngest and still hungry for adventure and the world outside of the Ton, looked at his older brother with high expectations. ‘I do not believe you and Father had been gone this long and did not experience anything worthy of a tale.’ 

You listened on as your siblings bickered, arguing over the value of a story, and its worth of being told and heard. Finally, after listening to it for about a quarter of an hour, you had to agree with Nicholas; it was all rather dull. No wonder neither he nor father did not bother to mention anything but the weather in their correspondence. Their days quickly grew into a pattern one is used to in travel and business. A pattern you might have understood if you cared to pay attention. 

This attention only returned to the room when you heard your name being spoken. The conversation had shifted from the events that had been missed overseas to the town's happenings. Just as dull and irrelevant, some might say, the most interesting thus far was the staff changes at the house, and even these held very little consequence to you, but to this, some may disagree wholeheartedly. 

‘So, the season has begun, has it not, sister?’ Nicholas asked. 

‘Some weeks ago, yes.’ You did your best pretending not to feel an effect from this, occupying yourself with your needlework that was turning out far below the usual standard. ‘But do not worry; you have not missed much. In fact, I think things will finally begin to get a bit interesting with you back home.’ Nicholas had always had a taste for dramatics and had been known for having a very… loving nature. In the past years, you must have witnessed him falling in love at least a dozen times, preparing a proposal to half of these women, going through with it twice now, with one nearly making it to the alter if not for the bride getting caught in quite a compromising position with a footman.

For the next few weeks, Nicholas was known as the heartbroken gentleman, and you would have felt bad for him… if it was not for the fact that women from all over town came around to console him, day after day, of course not knowing that when his bride-to-be had been making arrangements with other men, your brother had been too busy charming ladies himself. It took a month for him to proclaim his love to another woman again.

‘I do not know what you mean,’ Nicholas deflected your comment, quickly looking over to your mother and second oldest brother, Christopher, ‘any fitting suitors I should be aware of?’ As the eldest brother, Nicholas made it his duty to ensure his sisters found good husbands. That meant status and wealth but, above anything else, a good and genteel nature. You remembered how picky he was when Annabelle had been searching for a husband, even more so than your parents. Still, it was something you appreciated about your brother. His protectiveness showed the little heart he still held for you and the rest of your family, as much as he tried to hide it away. 

Your mother bit her cheek, holding in the many thoughts and opinions she must have kept for herself. So did Christopher, who shared a very knowledgeable look of many words with Nicholas, one he understood clearly but you could not decipher just yet. However, you assumed the general message had been sent and received. 

‘If you had seen the choices, brother, you would understand my predicament and situation all too well, believe me.’ Pretending to seem unbothered by the encrypted messages being sent around the room, you preoccupied yourself once more with the needlework. 

‘I believe it is what you believe, sister,’ Nicholas turned back to your mother, ‘do you have a list of names? I shall go through them in the morning, see if it really is as bad as we are being told.’ 

You had wanted to reply, most likely in a dishonourable way, but you held your tongue and fell back in your seat, letting the rest of your family plan out the rest of your life, just like they had always done. 

Unbelievable, Nicholas was home for all of five minutes, and he was already making lists. And knowing him, which you would like to think you did, it was merely a formality for your sake. He would already have a dozen names at the top of his head, ready to send out invitations to men for an audience with you. 

Therefore, you were not surprised when, only a few days later, at the breakfast table, Nicholas told you about all the guests Ridlngton Park would soon be welcoming. 

‘There is Mr Elton, and Mr Brookes will be coming over for tea; I also heard Lord Frankworth is interested in a visit, so is Mr Campbell, and—’ he kept on giving you names, with all of them entering one ear and immediately leaving through your other. You could not care less who wanted to see you, not after spending the last month trying your hardest to escape all of their attempts at promenading, lunching, and chatting of sheer nonsense. 

‘I must ask you to be ready for your first audience before 10; a dress is already prepared in your room.’ Of course, there was a dress. All you could do was smile as you bit into a forkful of egg. 

‘Oh, and there is one gentleman I would particularly like you to meet,’ your father chimed in, almost as if with an afterthought that he recollected at the last minute. You looked up at him apprehensively. ‘I had made a nice acquaintance of his father on our travel. What was his name– Harrolds, no…’  ‘Harrington, father. It was Mr Harrington.’ Nicholas corrected before looking over to you as he shared more. ‘He is a tradesman, quite successful. His only son had joined us on the ship back to England.’ The emphasis on his lineage was made with an apparent inclination. There were no more heirs, meaning the son would inherit the man’s entire wealth. ‘Certainly seems like a reasonable young man, clever too. The two of you will have lots to speak of.’

Well, I certainly cannot wait to meet him,’ you forced out a smile before quickly getting on with your meal despite losing all your appetite. At that moment, your stomach felt like a hollow pit, eating away at you, ironically.

‘You know, if you gave this all a chance, you might find yourself to actually enjoy it in the end,’ your mother commented with a tight lip. 

‘I am sure I shall enjoy it then, as it means that it has all, in fact, ended.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I simply do not understand why this is a must in my life? Why must I marry this instant?’

‘Do not worry, dear. You are still young; you still have plenty of time, ' your father said, missing your point entirely and making you roll your eyes. ‘But your mother is right, too, a more agreeable attitude towards this will make things much easier.’

‘For whom, exactly? Is it for me to enjoy myself, or for everyone else as you will not have to endure me any longer?’

‘Can you really blame us?’ Nicholas mumbled, receiving a kick in the shin in return. He spent the rest of the discussion rubbing the targetted spot on his leg with a pained crease between his brows. You, besides gaining the small victory of maiming your brother, found yourself yet again on the losing side of another family dispute. Like all its predecessors, this battle ended with you pushing back your chair with a harsh scrape of the panelled floor and slugging back to your room where a dress awaited. 

It was beautiful; you could not deny that. Elegant and straightforward, it accented all your finest assets for interested suitors. It was comfortable: not too heavy or too textured in its pattern, it was made of soft material that slipped right on, with the fit of a well-tailored glove. Your hair was pulled up and out of your face, leaving nothing to hide behind. 

‘You look lovely, miss,’ your maid said with a kind smile as she put the final pin in your hair. 

‘Thank you, Claire.’ You muttered, noticing the saddened sympathy enveloping her features as she knew like no other how much you detested everything about what you were about to go through. ‘Have you got any advice? On how to endure it all?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she shrugged, brushing something off your shoulder. ‘I suppose you could try making them uninterested in you, so they will want to leave sooner.’

‘That thought has crossed my mind,’ you admitted, ‘but I also do not want to put my entire family to shame.’ 

‘Of course, miss.’ Claire nodded. As she finished working on your presentation, you pondered over your possibilities. Indeed, presenting yourself as improper had been your first idea, and its appeal remained, but you were too afraid of the repercussions. If the gentlemen were to think of you as a lady without any manners, all it would do was put your upbringing up for question, something your parents did not deserve whatsoever. 

You also considered spreading gossip about the men coming to introduce themselves, which would scare your mother off them immediately, ensuring they were never to return by your parents’ preference. But it felt cruel to make up such lies. You were sure that in other circumstances, these were perfectly fine men. At this particular moment, you just happened to despise them and everything they stood for.

Perhaps the most appealing option was to simply not attend the audience. To run away and never to return… at least until the afternoon, once all the men had lost all their patience. But that would only cause you more trouble.

The ideas rolled around your head for the rest of the day, even once the suitors sat opposite you in the room. It was all incredibly dull, if not just mortifyingly humiliating, with your mother sitting only across the room, occupying herself with a book, or so it seemed because she most definitely was listening to the conversations attempted on your part.

‘So,’ as most of the dialogues began, the Lord whose name you already forgot spoke, clearing his throat, ‘I hear you read.’

‘Yes, ' you said, blinking to avoid staring too blankly at the wall behind the man, ignoring the balding patch atop his head. 

‘Grand,’ he smiled, somehow satisfied with your response already.

‘Do you… ride?’ you asked, hoping that at the least your mother heard your attempts at making a connection and would release you from this torment soon enough on the principle of your good sportsmanship.

‘No, God no, horses are far too beastly for my liking, unless we are speaking of the track, of course.’ The man scoffed, ‘However, I prefer more dignified activities, such as hunting.’ 

‘Of course, you do,’ you smiled, but the expression never reached your eyes. ‘What about chess? Do you play?’

‘I do not have the patience to commit to such silly games.’

Patience, you thought, or intelligence? And how ironic of him to speak of perseverance. You watched him take another small sandwich from the tea tray provided on a side table, which you were taught to ignore so as not to be observed as “gluttonous”. After all, no one wanted to marry a lady that ate all day. 

Considering that, you grabbed a plate and a piece of cake from the top of the tray and bit into it. The soft sponge melted on your tongue. In the meantime, you were asked a question, but you could not possibly answer with a mouthful of cake, could you? Once you had finished, you considered grabbing a second portion, but you could feel the judgmental look of your mother digging into the back of your head. 

You put the plate back down and your hands on your lap. 

‘I’m sorry, my lord, could you repeat the question, please. I fear I may have lost myself for a moment.’ And so, it continued. Thankfully, the man excused himself not long after, thanking you and your mama for the time, just for his seat to be replaced with someone else almost immediately. This time, the gentleman was significantly younger, with thick hair atop his head and charming eyes, but the second he spoke, you knew this would not reach much further than the comfort of this room. At the least, you did not see this relationship going any further than any of the other acquaintances you had made that day.

By lunchtime, you felt your eyes burning with fatigue, possibly caused by a constant suppression of tears. How much more could you possibly take of this torture?

‘Mr Elton was quite a charmer, was he not?’ Your mother commented as she sipped her tea. 

You suppressed your initial thought, rephrasing it to cause less offence, ‘He is too stubborn and self-centred. He barely let me speak a single word, too occupied by his own achievements to expect me to have any.’ 

‘Well, Lord Frankworth seemed to care very much for what you had to say.’ 

‘Only because he barely managed to string any thoughts together himself,’ you sighed. 

Your mother tightened her grip on the teacup before smiling. ‘Soon enough, we will find you a perfectly fine young man, dear. You just have to remain open-minded.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Speaking of, your next suitor should be here shortly.’ 

You did everything in your power not to groan at the announcement and instead nodded politely. ‘Who is it?’ 

‘Mr Harrington, the one your father was so keen on you meeting.’

‘Ah,’ yes, the American. The only thing that gave you some slight hope in the situation was that Mr Harrington had already spent plenty of time in the company of your father and brother Nicholas and had seemingly gained their blessing. But nothing could help you gain the energy to entertain yet another man with polite conversation. The sun had been beaming into the room since the early morning, only growing warmer and warmer, making the hairs at the small of your neck stick. 

‘Will you just excuse me for a moment, mother.’ You got up. 

‘Is something wrong?’ She looked suspicious but with a glint of worry in her eye. 

‘I am quite fine, just require some fresh air, I think,’ which was not entirely a lie.

‘Alright then, just make haste, child.’ Mr Harrington was on his way, after all. ‘We do not want to keep the man waiting.’ 

‘Of course not,’ you smiled, heading towards the door. When the large panels closed behind you, you picked up your skirt and ran toward the gardens. Your footsteps echoed through the corridors, and you caught several members of the house staff glancing your way with inquisitive looks. 

Ever since you could remember, the grounds around Ridlington Park had a fantastical power about them. It had been the turf on which you would spend countless childhood summer days playing games with your siblings, whether the competitive or imaginary type. But no matter what the six of you could think of, your favourite game would always remain Hide and Go Seek. The gardens were a perfect place for it, with endless nooks and crannies one could disappear into. It was nearly a giant maze, and you had mastered it from a very young age. Whilst most got lost between the shrubbery and flowers, you knew exactly where you had found yourself. 

There were plenty of hiding spots you enjoyed over the years, some that to this day remain a mystery to the rest of your family, but nonetheless, it was the stables you adored the most. It was a safe haven for you on many days, to the point that you had nearly become invisible to the staff working there. 

The stables were located in the far east corner of the grounds, and the walk towards it already cost more time than you had if you had ever planned on returning that quickly. Undeniably, there was a pinch of shame and guilt nipping at your heart towards the strange Mr Harrington, but that soon dissolved when you heard the neighing of Barley Sugar, a golden-brown mare you proudly called yours. A gift and result of a successful business trade made by your father years ago, the horse technically belonged to all of the Byrnwick children, as much as any of the other horses under the family’s possession, but the bond between you and that particular horse just turned out to be that much stronger. 

This was visible as soon as you entered the stable. Barley Sugar went wild at your presence, happily swinging her head from side to side. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ you grinned, petting the horse, who leaned into your touch immediately. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’

But your plans were quickly interrupted by a voice. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ 

❀❀❀

An average sea voyage from the Americas to England should take approximately 16 days, considering the weather corresponds with the sails of the ship. During this journey, passengers would most likely endure days upon days of heavy and tall waves bashing across the ship’s sides, and that is to be expected in favourable conditions.

As Lord Byrnwick and his eldest had boarded the ship headed to London, the sky had been bright blue, and it did not change far beyond that. There was, of course, a risk for the two of them to sail across the world as they did, them being head of the family and its heir. A journey such as this one can go awry in many ways, and if it were not for the dangers of seafaring, there were the Anglo-American tensions to consider. After all, the previous year's war was still fresh in everyone’s mind, and one could not be careful enough when entertaining both sides. Luckily for the Byrnwicks, they were not of the superstitious kind, and good fortune had always seemed to be in the family’s favour up until the very moment they stepped on the boat to return home, many years beyond that. 

Ever the convivial one, the most considerable success of the trip, according to Lord Byrnwick, was not the business or diplomatic aspects of their ventures but the social. The man immensely enjoyed meeting other like-minded spirits from across the pond, and there had been plenty of fine nights at gentleman’s clubs spent over fine spirits and betting games, discussing all sorts of topics and exchanging information on all subjects. Promises were made to keep in touch whilst arrangements were made for more future meetings. It was only the polite thing to do. 

But aside from acquaintances and business partners, an addition to the household had also been made. Of some sort, that is, for it seemed that the two had found a new groom in America.

Now, Gentle Reader, do not conclude of the worst, as the groom we speak of is not the sort one is meant to meet at an altar but the kind who spends his days tending the horses and carriages. The young man, Mr Munson, had been doing precisely that when the Byrnwick heir stumbled upon his conveyance services in town, in dire need of transport for his regular means, which had already been occupied by his father for the day. It was an encounter by utter chance but certainly one with greater consequences. 

Several days later, coincidentally, a letter from London had arrived. Five pages long, each written by a member of the family recounting their most notable memories of the week. The children spoke of the ton's gossip and anecdotes of what occurred at home. Mother, however, took it upon herself to write of more important matters regarding the household. Many topics had to be discussed, but in the middle of her letter, there was mention of the unfortunate passing of the family’s barn manager, Mr Falstipp. It was an unexpected death, leaving the entire house in shock as the man had been working for the family for longer than the children had been alive. But it also resulted in the question of what was to be done now? 

It was likely only because the interaction had been so fresh in his mind that Nicholas suggested finding a replacement for Mr Falstipp here in America. This was an unusual offer, as his father commented, especially since they would not leave for home until another few days, but that was to be resolved by having the footmen take care of the horses for the time being. Besides, Nicholas was sure his siblings would be more than happy to help with the chores. 

The next day, he returned to the public stables and immediately noted how much cleaner they seemed than any other in town. The horses also looked exceptionally well taken care of and content. 

Mr Munson had just been feeding a colt when Nicholas eagerly announced, ‘Mr Munson, may I offer you a proposition?’ 

This, to no surprise, startled the other man for various reasons. ‘Sir?’ 

‘This must be a peculiar request, but you see, as of recently, my family has found itself in need of a new stablehand and from what I have seen you do, you, sir, would be the perfect candidate.’ Nicholas had the smile of a man losing his sanity, but his words could not be more genuine. 

‘Your family—’ Munson blinked, ‘you mean in London.’

‘Yes, and I understand that this might be a problem, but trust me when I say that you will most certainly find England to your liking, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ 

‘As you wish,’ Nicholas agreed. 

Eddie pondered over the offer for a short moment. It would have taken him no time to decide if it was not for what he was to leave behind, but he knew that his current employer would be able to find his replacement in no time, as jobs in town were hard to come by. 

But what must have been even more challenging to obtain was a ticket out of the wasteland he called home. For years, he had dreamt of an escape, never imagining it to be possible, and suddenly, here comes this stranger offering it to him on a silver platter. 

It would be terrifying to move so far away, he knew that, with many risks, but the further away he could manage to go from where he was now, the better. 

Eventually, after a minute of silence that left Nicholas restless and on the verge of embarrassment, Eddie smiled: ‘It would be my pleasure to work for you, sir.’ And he had meant that wholeheartedly. While it had only been a short few interactions that he had had with the man, the young Mr Byrnwick had already shown Eddie far more kindness than any of his prior employers, or any other man in his life, for a fact. Most importantly, the man knew nothing about Eddie’s past, which must have been the biggest selling point in the life-changing choice. 

‘Marvelous. You will not regret this, Eddie.’ Nicholas leaned in to shake his hand, only to realise that Eddie was still carrying the giant bucket of feed. ‘Well, we shall finalise everything on the boat, shall we?’ And so they did. 

A week later, Eddie found himself still in shock at his circumstances. He could not believe he was really to be leaving for England until the moment he set foot on the boat, and even once the sails had set and the American coast was nothing but a grim line on the horizon, the fact did not seem to settle in his mind just yet. 

Over the next 16 days, he had encountered the Byrnwicks only a handful of times. First, to meet Lord Byrnwick who, as head of the household, wanted a final say on the matter. A bit late, thought  Eddie, as the boat had long departed the harbour by then, but his ticket had already been paid for, and thus, he had little else to complain about. He had quickly made peace with the idea that he could make his new life across the ocean work no matter the circumstances. He had done it before, so what is one more homeless night under a new sky?

But the lord seemed all too happy to have found his staff replacement. Overall, the man was nothing like Eddie had expected a gentleman of English high society to be. From his previous experiences, the type often was rather conceited and arrogant, with a transparent opinion of anyone below their class. His new employer and his son, while undoubtedly lordly, had a modest nature about them. Quickly, Eddie had also gathered that the spontaneity with which Nicholas Byrnwick had called upon him for a job opportunity was not uncharacteristic of him, as the young man was rather energetic in his step and impulsive in his actions. 

But no matter how unassuming the men were, they did belong to a different rank of man and, therefore, stayed on the boat to the upper decks, engaging with the rest of their kind. 

The travel moved on slowly, but in the end, it was also a mere blink of an eye moment, and before he had realised it, Eddie had reached the shores of England. It was another day or two of travel to be done by horse. A carriage had been acquired for Nicholas and his father, but Eddie and the rest of the staff that travelled with the family for their adventure rode on horseback. No matter how much Eddie enjoyed the form of transportation, it was a tiring experience after several hours, but it also allowed him to meet the people he was to work with and, through that, those he would work for. 

‘So, what is the rest of the family like,’ he asked Mr Trowbridge, the lord’s valet. If there was anyone who could tell Eddie something, it would be this man. 

‘Well,’ Mr Trowbridge had a particularly nasal tone about his voice that especially came forward at the beginning of his sentences, ‘I do not believe there is much to tell. They are as any other family, really.’ 

‘My good man, you can hardly expect me to believe there is nothing worth telling about these people,’ Eddie laughed. ‘If it puts your mind at ease, I am only asking for the simplest facts—nothing to interest my fancy.’

The valet pondered over this for a moment. ‘Very well. You have, of course, met the Viscount and his eldest.’ He took a moment for Eddie to respond with a nod in agreement. He then took another moment to consider his following words. The longer he took, the more keen Eddie felt to suggest what to speak of. 

‘What about Lady Byrnwick?’

‘Lady Byrnwick is most amiable and has a very caring character, but you will not find her in the stables often unless she is searching for her children.’

‘Not fond of horses, is she?’

‘Rather the outside—-’ Trowbridge cleared his hair vigorously. ‘In the sense that the sun and pollen often leave her poorly. But the children…’ he punctuated his half-sentence with a heavy sigh. 

‘They are a handful?’ Eddie assumed. To this, Trowbridge searched for another description but found himself lacking the vocabulary, leading to a confirmation. 

‘I have worked for this family for nearly three decades, and I will assure you that each member is as proper a member of society as the next. While boisterous, they have been taught to be independent individuals.’ The valet's tone made Eddie consider how much of their good decorum was in gratitude for the man’s own intervention and guidance. 

‘At 27 years, Nicholas is the eldest, and the responsibilities of this role are one of the few aspects of his life which he takes seriously, I cannot put any doubt behind that.’ Indeed, whilst extremely impetuous, the heir’s son also understood the duties of his position and towards his family. 

‘Then there is Christopher. The boy has immense athletic abilities but not much beyond that. For a young man of his age of five and twenty, one would assume he would be able to compose himself with a bit more propriety, but it is very difficult for him. He is adventurous and rarely can sit still for an extended period of time, including his mouth. It is suggested that people be careful of what they say around the man.

‘The eldest daughter, Annabelle, married just before we had departed for America, thus is now the lady of her own house.’ Something in his tone suggested he was sad to see the young woman leave home. This possibly has to do with the fact that Miss Annabelle (Now known as Duchess Annabelle Ramsbury) was the most dutiful and respectful of the six children. ‘The marriage had been long overdue as she had just turned 22 on the day of the ceremony, but a love match was found nonetheless.’ The valet guffawed with pride. It was clear to Eddie that, while considering them a nuisance, the man cared deeply for the family he served.

‘I must admit, Trowbridge,’ Eddie chuckled in this horse’s trot pattern over the uneven paths. ‘When you began speaking of the family, I had imagined the children to be… well, children.’

‘How old are you, Munson?’ Trowbridge asked, somewhat bluntly. 

‘Twenty, sir.’ Perhaps closer to his next birthday than the last.

‘Ah, just the age of the second daughter then,’ he nodded in agreement. ‘She may perhaps be the most… rebellious of the kin. It is all in good spirit, as you must imagine, and I am sure the interest in such nonsense will dwindle as she matures. She is also the most fond of the family horses; thus, you will see her quite often, I expect. But as her sibling, she has mastered the care for the animals as well as the equipment.’ 

As he spoke of your skills, something about Trowbridge's expression communicated particular dismay to Eddie. ‘Is that bad? For a young woman to know how to carry herself around a horse?’ He, for one, certainly did not see a problem in it. On the contrary, it was an instrumental skill to develop for anyone. 

‘It is not exactly lady-like, is it?’ Trowbridge spoke as if that was the only relevant argument on the matter. Eddie had learned from a very young age that some opinions were better left unsaid, and seeing him as the senior in age and position, Eddie thought it unwise to argue with the valet on his first official day of employment. He instead simply nodded in understanding. Instead, he opted to continue the civil interrogation—

‘What of the youngest two? What are they like?’

‘Fitzwilliam is a dapper fellow. He is but seventeen, but very accomplished, though I cannot say he knows how to put his acquired skills to good use. He has ambitions that cannot be denied; it is just a question of whether these ambitions can ever be met. 

‘And lastly, we have Miss Marjorie. A darling girl, I assure you,’ Trowbridge stated. I can only suggest not letting her size fool you, Munson. She has managed to wrap her family around her little fingers the moment she learned to mumble a word, leaving her to cause quite the ruckus for the past eleven years.’ 

‘I do not see how that involves me, Sir,’ Eddie said. By this time, the sun had begun to set over the fields they passed, and soon, the company would break for their overnight travels at a nearby inn. 

‘It had come to my attention over the years that Mr Falstipp–the previous groom, that is— had been quite lenient on the children and their usage of the horses. This has caused a number of incidents that I would rather not see a repetition of.’

‘Understood.’ 

‘I am unaware of your er– American customs,’ the valet began his lecture, ‘but you must also know that here, ladies are not to ride unaccompanied—something that has been protested in the family to no avail, but it is simply the procedure. There must always be a chaperone nearby to supervise, whether that is a senior member of the family or an entrusted member of the household.’ 

‘I do not expect to have gained that trust just yet,’ Eddie said earnestly.

‘But let us hope you will.’ The smile Trowbridge gave Eddie was kind at first glance, but the movement of his eyes that inspected him told an entirely different story. He knew he still had much to learn about navigating himself around the kinds of people that were the Byrnwicks, even those who worked for them. The moment he set foot on English soil, he knew it would be challenging to fit in if he ever planned to do so. 

The truth is that he did not plan such a change. For you see, Dear Reader, Mr Eddie Munson was also a radical. He did not believe in adapting to society, which was visible in his entire being. One can also imagine the struggle he had to endure when given a uniform to wear. Frankly, the ensemble did not differ much from how the man dressed himself before, but the simple fact that he was told to wear this particular set of clothing upset him severely. 

On the first day after his arrival at Ridlington Park, he had managed to justify himself out of dressing in the required clothing by claiming that the trousers were a smidgen too tight. Without another size available, he was told to wear the clothes on his back until the new, fitted attire arrived.

But the clothes did not even begin to reach the problem of the horses he was meant to care for. 

Turned out, while he had been given all sorts of warnings against the family, what Eddie should have been preparing for was the beasts that homed the stables. The stubborn animals would not let him touch them, and any attempts were met with angry stares and stomping of the hooves. 

‘Easy, there,’ Eddie spoke as softly as he could, taking small steps in any direction that would not enrage the stallion whom he was currently attempting to feed. White Liquorice, a white Arabian, was undoubtedly an animal worthy of a viscount, and from the moment he had stepped into the Ridlington Park stables, Eddie knew that the Kentucky Saddlers and Quarter Horses he grew up with were no match for these and he would quickly have to learn to get on with them if he was to stay here. 

Yes, the first days were hard, but not even one week later, he had gotten used to the rhythm of operations. It helped that, working as the barn manager, he was the one in charge and mostly left alone. Mr Trowbridge had visited him to ensure he was adjusting to the new working conditions, which was kind, but besides that, Eddie rarely saw anyone but footmen requesting the carriage to be prepared for the family. 

That is until one afternoon when he heard the doors open and someone walking inside. He had been around the corner of the stables, cleaning some grooming tools. 

‘Oh, we can both use an escape, I see,’ he heard the intruder speak. It was soft and gentle, most likely referring to one of the horses. Immediately, Eddie was reminded of one of the conversations shared with Lord Byrnwick’s valet. He swiftly got up from his seat and immediately found the culprit. 

He watched you pet one of the horses—Barley Sugar, was it—-petting her in a way he had not yet managed to do confidently. ‘How about I get you out of here, hmm?’ These words triggered him to jump into action. 

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, ma’am.’ He stepped forward, but his words startled you, causing you to turn around. As you did so, your foot got caught in an old set of bridles Eddie had still planned on detangling and putting away. The surprise coming with the unexpected presence of someone else, combined with the awkward position of your foot, led you to fall over with a shriek. 

Eddie cursed under his breath as he watched you huff on the ground. ‘Let me help you,’ he extended his hand to you, ‘and my apologies, it was not my intent to—’ 

‘Who are you?’ you said in a tone that could only be deemed skittish, if not directly fearful, but not enough to deny his offer to help you stand. Your reaction was validated as you had never met the man standing before you. You eyed him up and down, and the more details you noticed, the more you were sure that you had just stumbled upon a robbery, nay, a kidnapping. 

The man's presentation spoke for itself, truly. His long hair was dark and unkept, well over his shoulders. His clothes were nothing like the workers around your house were meant to dress like, making him stick out like a very sore thumb. The trousers were old and worn, and the shirt was loose over his upper body, revealing—oh god, was that a tattoo?

It was clear this is how you were to die.

‘Are you here to steal my horses?’ you blurted out before you could think. 

‘What?’ He blinked. ‘No, please, listen—’ but you did no such thing. Instead, you did the only thing a lady in distress could do. 

You screamed bloody murder. 

‘Help! Anyone! Help—’  you would have kept on going, shouting over his attempt at reason until he finally shut you up by placing his hand over your mouth, his other hand sturdily over your upper arm. The two of you stood there for a moment, chests both heaving in all forms of panic, listening for footsteps or any other presence, but the only sound was the soft breathing of the animals around you. 

‘I will let go now, miss,’ Eddie said slowly. Both your eyes were wide from the uncultivated situation that had just occurred. ‘And I will explain everything to you, just, please—and I beg you— do not scream.’ You nodded your head beneath his palm in agreement. Eddie counted to three as he stepped back and finally let go of you. Despite him never blocking your airways, you inhaled deeply. 

‘There is absolutely no reason to panic, ma’am.’ His accent was distant, one you had never had the pleasure of hearing before. His eyes, large and dark, locked you in, almost making you lose count of the lingering feeling of his hands on your body. He had given you a moment before he continued speaking, ensuring that you would not resume your screaming or make a run for it.

‘What is your reason of being here?’ You inquired. 

‘I work here. Have been, for the past week. I think it was your brother, in fact, that gave me the position. We met on his travels.’ 

Now, come to think of it, you remembered your family's conversation on the day your father and brother returned. There had been talk of new staff—a young man they had brought along with them from America as an official replacement for the late Mr Falstipp. But that did not explain his attire. 

‘You could be fired for breaking the dress code alone, you know. Not to mention for the, uhm, actions you had just performed.’ You commented.

‘Well, you can always report me, miss.’ Eddie, against all his better judgement, smiled. 

‘Maybe I should.’ Your heart was still pounding, and you felt so disoriented that even a simple smile made your head spin. ‘What is your name?’

‘Eddie.’

‘Well, Mr Eddie—’ you began, just to be quickly interrupted.

‘No, just Eddie.’ Eddie shook his head.

‘What do you mean? Do you have no family name?’ You had heard of men bringing in street urchins to work for them, but surely, this man was too old for such charity. And you could not imagine your brother to perform such acts of kindness anyway.

‘I do.’ His smile only widened in amusement at the conversation. ‘Eddie Munson.’

‘My, is it usual in America to introduce oneself like that?’ Never had you heard of a man introducing himself by only his first name, let alone a byname. 

‘It is usual to me,’ he quipped, ‘And it is more common than not introducing yourself at all.’ The way in which he looked up at you from under his lashes felt accusatory, but you could not find it within you to be upset at the critique, so you gave him your name instead. 

‘Pleasure to meet you, Miss Byrnwick.’ He gave you a small, polite bow that reminded you more of how children play Lord and Lady rather than a gentlemanly act. Next thing you knew, a smile was pulling at the corner of your lips, and a small giggle was ready to escape. 

For some reason, you hesitated to say your following words: ‘It is a pleasure, Mr Munson.’

‘Please, call me Eddie.’ While always respecting the titles of others, Eddie never saw himself as one to follow such formalities. 

‘That is most improper.’ You held back the urge to scoff. 

‘But I insist.’ There was something in the corner of his eye that you managed to catch a glimpse of—this spark that no sunlight or fire could match. It was pure mischief, a spirit of chaos. But still, to call a man you barely knew by his first name was simply not right. Your family may jest as they please about your rebelling attitude to primitive customs, but you had to admit that some things ought to be done in a proper manner. And this was certainly not it. 

However, Mr Munson saw it in another light but did not find enough of an interest in the subject enough to argue it further. Rather, he cleared his throat briefly and observed you for a moment. 

How silly you must look in your fancy dress! Your hair was done up to match, and your shoes were most likely covered in mud. There was also no doubt that he had overheard you talking to your horse about running away. You had good faith that he could connect the pieces to form the complete picture. 

A bird flew past a window, making you glance past Eddie’s shoulder in haste. 

‘I hope I am not keeping you from any other plans, miss?’ He finally asked. Could you be so bold as to admit that he was saving you from other commitments by conversing with you?

‘No, of course, not Mr Munson,’ you persisted. ‘I am simply cautious.’ Come to think of it, your screams must have been heard all around the grounds. If those who heard, in turn, had an ounce of common sense amongst them, they would have called for someone in the house. If that was the case, your mother would be here momentarily, and then it was back to the house for you. All you could do now was hide. 

‘May I ask what are you being cautious of?’ Eddie followed you with his eyes as you walked through the stables, looking for a hiding spot. 

‘If you must know, I am currently on the run,’ you stated while looking over a haystack in the far corner. 

‘Ah, so whilst you had accused me of being a criminal, it was you who had been committing the crimes then? Should I now scream for help?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t, ' you said, attempting to climb the hay to get past it. ‘I have already brought much too much attention to myself.’ Your foot slipped, making you tumble back down to the ground. The accident made you stop for a moment before attempting to climb again, looking over your shoulder at the man. ‘Are you not going to even try and stop me?’ 

‘Oh,’ it was as if he had awakened from a deep thought or had just realised that what you suggested was exactly what he ought to do. ‘Well, would you listen if I told you not to climb up there?’ 

You pondered his question for a short moment. ‘No, I highly doubt it.’ Thus, you resumed your climbing. As you did, you heard the shuffling of his feet behind you. The next time you slipped up, this time from a far higher distance, he had been in precisely the right place to catch you in his arms. 

‘I cannot assure you I will be able to catch you once more, so it is in good conscience that I suggest you stop, ma’am,’ he said as you got back to your feet. 

‘You are right,’ you admitted. Then you realised just how close the two of you stood and quickly occupied yourself by looking for another hiding place. That is when you noticed it. You had spent years in this stable and knew every inch of the space, yet… ‘Have you moved things around?’ You looked back at Eddie. 

‘Only a little. I’m afraid my predecessor did not have a flair for organisation,’ he explained.

‘That may be so, but I would prefer you would put things back as they were.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Eddie could not help but laugh at the demand.

‘Your new floor plan has completely disoriented me, ' you admitted. ‘It is unbecoming.’

‘My apologies. I will be sure to put things back as they were, then.’ His laugh still echoed his words.

You had not expected him to actually agree to this request. ‘You will?’ But quickly, you regained your composure and tried to hide the surprise in your voice. ‘Very well, thank you. Then, since you have discarded all of my possible hiding locations, what do you suggest I should do?’ 

‘I suggest you run.’ But it was not Eddie who had answered you. 

‘Mother, ' you gasped. What was it, in God’s good name, with everyone sneaking up on you today? Lady Byrnwick stood at the threshold of the stables with her arms crossed. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she took a step inside. You prepared yourself for a disciplinary outburst, but instead, your mother focused on the man standing next to you. 

‘You must be Mr Munson.’ The kindness in her voice was laughable. The overcompensation of her kindness threw both you and Eddie off. 

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ You noticed that he bowed his head in a much more orderly fashion than he had done to you. 

‘I hope my daughter has not been too much of a nuisance.’ 

‘Not at all.’ Eddie politely replied. 

‘Good, good. Well, I can already see that my son did a good job in finding you,’ she stated as she looked around the retouched interior. ‘And I hope that you will grow to enjoy England.’

‘I’ve had nothing to complain of yet.’ Eddie proudly said with that smile of his, and for a moment, you thought to have caught his eyes on you for just a second. Your mother nodded along with his words in satisfaction, but this cheeriness dissipated as soon as she directed herself to you. 

‘Has your headache cleared, dear?’ Her eyes were spitting fire. 

‘Yes, mother.’ 

‘Then we will be on our way.’ She stepped aside, giving you room to walk outside. ‘Goodbye, Mr Munson.’ Eddie had become the unintentional victim of the venom that perferred your mother's words. 

He was polite enough to look away as you made your shameful walk through the aisle between the horses’ stalls, but you couldn’t help but look behind you one final time as you left and catch his favourable grin. What a peculiar man he was, indeed—one whose presence you immediately began to miss. 

Perhaps that was because of the company you were in at the time. 

‘Have you gone completely mad?’ Your mother scowled. ‘Mr Harrington has been waiting for well over half an hour.’

‘He is still here?’ You stopped in your tracks. This day could not have gone any worse. It seemed like everything you had been doing was working in your favour.

‘Yes, so you better come up with a clever excuse for your tardiness as I will not be embarrassed any longer. I swear, have you no shame?’

‘I am truly sorry mother, I had lost track of the time.’

‘Doing what exactly? What were you doing in the stables, exactly? Considering you had told me you were going out for some fresh air.’ Yes, the air around the horses was not exactly to be called “fresh.” 

Unfortunately, you had no satisfying answer to any of your mother’s questions. Come to it, you yourself were unsure what exactly had brought you there in the first place, not to mention what made you stay. It must have been a sense of child-like naivete to think you could hide from your problems the way you attempted. 

Problems that were coming closer as Mr Harrington walked towards you through the aisle of hyacinths that grew all around you in various colours. 

‘What is he doing here?’ you mumbled towards your mother.

‘Considering the lovely weather, I had offered for us to sit out in the gardens.’ Your mother spoke out loud. That is when you noticed the set table and chairs under a large parasol on the patio. 

‘I hope you do not mind. I took the initiative of taking a stroll in your absence.’ Mr Harrington spoke in a cadence that would have been new to you if not for the fact that you had spent the last hour in the presence of a very similar tone. 

‘Of course, not,’ your mother had regained her ability to smile. ‘May I introduce my daughter.’ And so she did. 

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. I completely lost track of time.’ You apologised and were ready to offer your hand to Mr Harrington when you noticed how filthy your gloves had become. In a panic, you pushed both your hands behind your back, trying to distract the man with a wide grin.

‘The important thing is that we are all here now,’ he manoeuvred, which you could not help but agree with, then led you to the patio. 

The next hour went by faster than you had ever imagined it would. Mr Steve Harrington turned out to be not only a great conversationalist but a rather fascinating one at that. It was only a fault of your own that you were distracted for a larger part of the conversation. There was simply something about the man’s brown eyes that constantly reminded you of somewhere else. He was very charming and, abiding by your brother’s promises, had a great, though perhaps somewhat awkward, wit. It seemed that his confidence, once clearly overt, had been lowered, causing him to stumble over his words at times and laugh at his own mistakes in a deprecating manner, but never enough to make it a bother in your eyes. Truly, it was all rather endearing.

But you could not, for the life of you, figure out what exactly caused these fumblings in his character, as nothing seemed to be particularly wrong with the man. Though you did not see him as an academic or scholar of any sort, from the way he spoke, you could tell he was one of the more clever men you had the fortune of meeting. And his looks were certainly no topic of discussion either. He was tall and lean, with a wonderful smile and soft brown hair that apparently was more common than imagined, as were those dark eyes and the way he held you in his arms—

You took a sip of the cold water as Mr Harrington expressed his gratitude to your mother for the audience and made sure the message would be conveyed to Lord Byrnwick, too. You nodded and smiled along. Even when he bid you farewell and bowed his head, your mind was elsewhere. As if expecting something to emerge from behind the hyacinths, you could not help but glance in the Eastern direction of the gardens. 

‘See, it was not all that bad, was it?’ your mother immediately said, pulling you back to the patio. By then, Mr Harrington had excused himself and was crossing the patio to the exit from the grounds but had turned briefly for a final goodbye, which you met with a polite wave. 

‘No, I suppose you are right, mother.’ You had persevered against all odds. As you watched the gentleman leave, you felt quite content with the meeting—happy, some would even say. The only problem was that you could not make quite clear what, or rather, who brought on this particular mood.

To be continued...

Thank you so much for reading!! I really do hope you enjoyed this chapter. Remember the best way to support writers is to reblog and share. I love to hear what people think of my stories so feel free to leave a comment or an ask or message.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson au #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #angst #fluff #regency au #eddie munson regency au #regency!au #regency!eddie munson

[elleloquently]

invisible string [4] : ellie williams

part three

| college!ellie x female!reader - thank you guys so much for patiently (and excitedly) waiting for this update! school is absolutely so busy it's sickening, so it's hard to write as often as i want, but i really want to aim for at least one update per week! writing this chapter was so much fun so please let me know what you think... as always thank you for your love, requests are open, and reblogs and comments are always loved and appreciated! love ya <3 (p.s shout out to a creepy owner irl who inspired part of this fic)

| c/w - anxious reader, swearing, mention of weed, alcohol, men!

studying was very dull compared to texting a pretty girl.

ellie entered your life in a whirlwind, notes filling up your once empty walls and endless texts and pictures cluttering up your phone.

the texts came in slowly at first, maybe a few short conversations every other day, mostly complaining about how much homework the professor of your shared class was packing in before finals week hit. then entered stupid memes, random pictures... and suddenly you were staying up until 3am learning about each other, despite your 8am class.

it had only been a few days, and you knew that you were getting too attached.

it was a feeling that made your stomach sink, the realization of how much your mood improved with a simple text. you were happiest in class, sitting next to ellie, even when your hand cramped from filling out pages of study guides.

sighing, you turned your music up louder and crashed back onto your bed, cushioned by a multitude of throw pillows and blankets. you weren't getting much studying done anyway.

the song grew quiet as your phone chimed, music to your ears.

Zero progress.

attached was a photo of the study guide, the amount of completed questions matching those of your own packet.

you quickly typed out a response to ellie, short and to the point.

literally sickening

it was only a few seconds before she replied:

There goes my weekend!

you replied in agreement before forcing yourself back up to glance over your textbook. you've been lingering on the same chapter for over an hour. if you were truly honest with yourself, you probably only read about two paragraphs... you were distracted.

you hardly had time to even daydream due to how busy you were, but it's not like it mattered. you gaze lingered to the collaboration of drawings made by yourself and ellie, still sticking to the wall. your phone sounded once again, pulling you out of a sleepy daze. figuring it was ellie again, you closed your textbook in an act of resignment.

the smile that appeared once you heard the text notification slowly faded upon closer inspection.

it wasn't ellie. it was a friend, one you admittedly haven't spoken to much as of recent. you hadn't really meant to ghost her, but your schedules didn't really align much. this time of year you were so busy with assignments and work, and she was busy with... well, literally anything else.

her message consisted of only two words, call me. it was short and vague so you immediately obliged, worry taking over your senses.

she answered on the second ring, speaking before you had even opened your mouth.

"please tell me you don't have plans tonight," she urged.

you wince, already preparing an excuse. "i'm studying..." you start. it wasn't a complete lie, you really had been making an effort.

her disappointment is obvious by the way she sighs your name into the phone speaker. "i've barely seen you all semester," she argues.

you start to chip your nail polish on your free hand, holding your phone to your ear with the other one. "what's up?" you ask.

"come out with me tonight? please. you've hardly come out this semester and let's be real, once finals start there's no chance i'll be able to convince you to come out," your friend pleads. her desperation is heavy and you rub at your eyes.

you want to immediately tell her no, but you really hadn't seen her in awhile yet the other day you skipped class for a chance to hangout with someone you hardly even knew. granted, it was ellie, but still.

a pit of guilt planted itself in your stomach, forcing your next words.

"what time?"

yelping in excitment, the girl on the other end of the line gushes out all of the information to you. "i'll pick you up around eleven, okay?"

a rushed end to a quick call, with promises to text more and texting outfit options for the night.

you were nervous about the change of pace. it caused you a strange feeling of obligation, to get out of your bubble and do something different every once in awhile. during college, people were promised four years of finding their forever friends and partying, making the memories that will last their entire lifetime.

you tried to partake, but it felt forced.

with a demanding major and even more demanding coursework, it was hard to maintain friendships by finding the time to actually go out. any spare time you had was replaced with shifts at work.

you felt like you were doing college… wrong.

your music resumed, the volume increasing to drown out any anxious thoughts that would prompt you to cancel last minute.

with no new texts from ellie, you decided to give your study guide one last try.

─ ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ── ·𖥸· ─

by the time you were supposed to get picked up, you were already yawning. you had dedicated the last hour to getting ready and picking an outfit that was deemed cute enough to make you feel good but still comfortable enough that you felt secure.

though it felt like a sleepy time of year, students were nearly restless. the pressures of exams were relieved on weekends, places around the college town open all night for people to blow off steam.

it happened quickly so you didn't have a moment to reconsider or backtrack, a text of 'here!' and shoving your feet into shoes before dashing to meet your friend in the parking lot.

the car ride was a catch up session, your friend talking about her new friends but you made a quick decision not to tell her about ellie. you weren't exactly sure why, but it was almost like you wanted to keep ellie to yourself. you checked your phone mindlessly and couldn't help but feel let down when nothing new presented on your screen.

the streets were alive and busy, girls huddled together to stay warm despite the lack of coats. the outside was an indication of how busy each bar and club would be, warm with heat and bodies packed inside.

you arrived at your friend's favorite establishment, the environment a stark difference from the comfortable evening you were having in your dorm just a few short hours ago. you pressed your way through a thick crowd, hanging loosely onto the arm of your friend so you wouldn't split up.

drinks were overpriced but you ordered one anyway, something to hold onto but you knew you would probably only finish a little more than half of it if you were dedicated enough.

"i'm gonna meet up with some people, my friends and their friends," your friend explained over the music, quickly resulting in your growing concern.

you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, you always did, but other people getting involved meant you would be inevitably ditched within the hour. the look on your face gave away your feeling and the girl standing opposite of you had a short patience.

"i wish you would've told me," you tried to reason, not wanting to look or sound pathetic.

"it doesn't matter," she shook her head. "they're nice, it'll be fun."

fun.

'fun' ended up being the act of standing awkwardly in the back because they wouldn't make enough room for you in the circle. 'fun' apparently was listening to them tell the same story over and over, yet talk over you every time you tried to speak too.

forced to be a wallflower, you stood with your back against the wall as you observed other people dancing. you could almost be content like this... the music was loud and the lighting was dark. the combination seemed like it would be an anxiety nightmare, but it was actually the opposite. you could stand there, completely unnoticed, hidden by the atmosphere.

you really could've been okay with it, until your eyes were drawn to your friend pointing at you. you stood up straight, thinking she was beckoning over, until you realized exactly what she was doing. she had been dancing with a guy that night, and that guy seemingly had a friend. she was pointing you out to the friend, pushing him to join you. he started walking in your direction and your stomach filled with dread. you didn't want to be in this situation, and you certainly didn't want to make small talk with some guy.

you tried to look busy, quickly pulling out your phone and looking anywhere else. against your silent praying, the guy stood over you.

"hey," he said, leaning too close to your ear and you ducked your head away. he smelled like alcohol and cologne that was sprayed too many times. you tried a polite smile but it came out like a wince.

"can i buy you a drink?"

you answered his question by holding up your cup, hand tightly covering the opening of the top. you had only taken a few sips of it, not able to stand the taste.

"how many?" he pressed, pointing to your cup.

"what?" your face scrunched in confusion.

"how many drinks have you had?" he clarified with a laugh that you didn't return.

"one. this is my first," you informed him flatly.

he made a face like he was pretending to be let down and your stomach turned. "only one? come on girl, you need more than that."

you outwardly groaned, rolling your eyes as you pushed yourself off of the wall. "i'm going to the bathroom. bye."

"want me to hold your drink?" he called after you, agitated and loud.

you ignored him and stepped carefully through the crowd, not wanting to stand too closely to any men or accidently bump any dancing girls. you were hyper focused on the restroom sign and the way the music pounded in your ears, muttering to yourself when you felt a hand wrap around your arm.

you immediately tensed, your blood running cold but your body feeling hot simultaneously. was this guy seriously grabbing you right now?

short tempered and fuming, you loudly spat "fuck off," as you angrily whipped around, only to be met with horrified green eyes, freckles, and auburn hair.

letting go as quickly as she had reached for you, ellie dropped her hand. "shit, sorry, i-"

you quickly cut her off, apologizing profusely.

"ellie, oh my god, i am so sorry," you stressed, heart sinking when she took a step away from you.

"sorry, i really shouldn't have done that," ellie mumbled, wincing. you nearly didn't hear her, the music was too loud.

she had on a loose flannel, unbuttoned down the middle and her converse. you were sure that her horrified expression matched your own, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor.

"i'm so sorry," you repeated. "i thought you were someone else and-"

"i'm sorry, i called your name but-"

you kept talking over each other, rushing awkward apologies. ellie shifted on her feet, her cheeks red.

"sorry," you mentioned again, defeated. "there was this guy, and..."

"a guy," ellie repeated quietly, her expression unreadable.

"yeah," you pushed on, glancing over ellie's shoulder. he was watching you now, remaining where you left him. gross. "i was trying to get away from him and i didn't hear you, i had no idea, i'm so sorry ellie."

she laughed dryly as she recovered but your face still stung with embarrassment. "it's alright," ellie reassured you, turning her head to briefly spot the guy you had glanced at. "are you here with him?" she asked curiously.

you quickly shook your head, rolling your eyes to express your disgust. "no," you emphasized. "i'm here with my friend but... i don't know," you laughed bitterly, finally taking a moment to let it sink in that you had ran into ellie here.

"i don't know why i'm here," you felt the need to say.

ellie nodded with a short laugh. "tell me about it."

you raised an eyebrow but didn't press it, still feeling like you needed to collect yourself. you could stand and talk with ellie forever, but you seriously needed to regroup.

"hey, um, i'm gonna run to the bathroom," you explained.

"come find me when you're done?" ellie offered, green eyes scanning your face. she pointed to an area by the bar, showing you where you could find her.

your nerves didn't stand a chance, overpowered by the overwhelming desire to be close to her. you nodded, your smile genuine for the first time that night.

before you could return on your path to the bathroom, ellie spoke again. "do you want me to hold onto that for you?" she offered, gesturing to the drink in your hand.

"oh, yeah, thanks ellie." you passed it over and she covered the top with her hand automatically, a simple thing that made your heart swell.

"i'll be there, alright?" she guaranteed, her eyes never leaving yours. you nodded once and parted ways, quickly heading to the bathroom.

you dashed for an empty sink, running cold water over your hands as you stared at your reflection. you couldn't figure out why, but you felt weird about running into ellie here. you suddenly wondered who she was here with, or was she here alone?

pushing out a deep breath, you turned off the water and dried them with a paper towel. you felt dizzy, like you were in a state in between sleeping and being awake.

"this," you mumbled to your reflection, "this is why you don't go out."

once you had worked up the courage, you emerged from the bathroom and scanned your surroundings. the girl you came with was dancing with the guys and her friends. feeling secure in the fact that you wouldn't be missed, you went to look for ellie but you didn't have to search for long.

ellie was exactly where she had said she would be, leaning against the bar with her hand protectively covering your drink. she seemed to be keeping an eye out for you because when your eyes locked, she waved you over.

you didn't bother to try and contain your grin as you made your way over, but your confidence was short lived when a pretty girl with dark hair leaned over, talking in ellie's ear.

oh.

whatever the girl said had made ellie laugh, and you faltered in your step. of course she was here with someone. of course she had other friends, (a girlfriend?) other people that she actively talked to and hung out with. you would've been stupid for thinking otherwise, you just hadn't thought about it much.

you didn't want to interrupt, but ellie caught your eye again. she raised her eyebrows, curiously, waiting. taking a deep breath, you pressed on, slowly coming to her side.

ellie handed your cup over and you accepted, taking a drink for courage.

"welcome back," ellie mused, a small smile gracing her lips.

you glanced at the girl standing on the other side of ellie, the liquid in her cup a vibrant color. ellie followed your eyes and made a face of realization, pulling the girl into the conversation.

almost sounding sheepish, she introduced her. "this is my friend dina, and... jesse," ellie craned her neck around but 'jesse' was elsewhere. you nodded anyway, smiling in dina's direction.

"hi, it's nice to meet you," you said, genuinely, despite your heart pounding in your chest.

"likewise! i've heard so much about you," dina replied, eyes bright and smiling.

ellie's eyes widened and your eyebrows shot up, taken aback by dina's introduction. you glanced at ellie but she was already composed.

"really?" you asked, truly surprised.

dina laughed and changed the subject. "jesse complains about coming but yet it's impossible to keep an eye on him," she expresses in response. "it was so nice meeting you," dina smiles at you once more and quickly squeezes ellie's shoulder before disappearing, presumably to find 'jesse.'

you take another drink and ellie clears her throat, music filling the silence. "where's your friend?" ellie questions.

you hum thoughtfully and scan the faces of all of the dancing people until your eyes land on her group. "there," you nod in their direction, trying not to sound bitter.

"are they all your friends? do you want me to go meet them?" ellie asks, watching them for a moment before gazing at you, eyes flickering over your face.

"no," you reply quickly, flatly.

"okay then," ellie laughs, tilting her head to peer at your expression. she brushes a strand of hair out of her face and it's hard not to watch, to not be entranced by every slight movement and expression she makes.

once again, you're thankful for the lighting, or lack thereof, and for the music. for some reason it feels like less pressure, which you appreciate.

"oh god," ellie mumbles, drawing your attention. she wraps her tattooed arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to her side. your breath hitches and you tense up, but her arm is then back by her side, the ghost of her touch electrocuting your senses. "watch out," she says, nodding to an older man making his way to the bar.

your eyebrows draw together in confusion as ellie watches the man in disgust, but you're more focused on the fact that her arm was just around you for about three seconds.

you take a slow drink, watching as the man leans down to talk to several girls crowded around the bar. it seems nearly harmless though a little odd, he's definitely the oldest person in the room as everyone else is college aged. you turn to ellie, confused, but she nudges your arm to keep watching.

he puts his arms around the girls, his hands going way too low, signaling the bartender to give them drinks with a flick of his hand.

you face ellie, eyes wide and mouth agape. she nods in disgust, but slightly amused at your expression.

"he's the owner," she explains. "he's so gross... people flirt with him because if he likes you, you're set with free drinks. he's just... gross."

"why are you here?" you question, frowning.

"dina likes to dance," ellie says simply.

"and you?"

"no," ellie laughs quickly.

"i definitely wasn't expecting to run into you here," you admit, running your finger along the rim of your plastic cup.

"yeah? i wasn't expecting you either." ellie watches you carefully, thoughtful in expression but casual in demeanor.

"excuse me ladies," a gruff voice cuts through. you snap your head up and meet the eyes of the owner, chewing your bottom lip nervously as his eyes drag across you and ellie. he contemplates ellie for a moment before setting his gaze on you, frowning.

"aren't you warm in that, sweetheart?" he slurs out, indicating to the sweater you're wearing. ellie places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making a face at the man from over your shoulder.

"i'm just fine," you remark.

he doesn't like your answer, but you didn't say anything rude so he can't lecture you. he stares at you, unmoving, and decides to give you one last chance.

"what're you drinking there?" he questions, shuffling closer to get a better look. he makes like he's expecting you to bat your eyelashes at him, and ellie tugs you backwards into her.

"let's go dance," she murmurs into your ear. your face gets hot and her hands are on your shoulders, walking behind you and guiding you away from the bar. you leave your drink on the counter, unwanted.

once you're far enough away, she gently halts you to a stop. your skin is burning from the contact and you turn to face her, trying to be lighthearted. "i thought you don't like to dance?"

the corners of her mouth turn up and you give in, absolutely folding in her presence. you leave about a foot of space in between your bodies, but loosely and awkwardly wrap your arms around her shoulders. it makes ellie nervously laugh, and she hesitates before carefully placing her hands at your waist. it's your turn to laugh now, fully aware of how ridiculous you must look. you obnoxiously sway to the side, putting your weight onto one foot and then the other, threatening to make each other fall over with the abrupt movements. it's a stark contrast to the way everyone else is moving to the music, but you're both genuinely laughing so you leave it be.

you can see your previous group in the corner of your eye and nerves wash over you again, feeling shy at ellie's playful touch. suddenly you feel guilty for harboring a secret crush on the girl, feeling as if you've crossed some sort of boundary. you steady yourself but it's hard to breathe with ellie so close, staring at your eyes and your lips and your eyes again... or did you imagine it? obviously not, but certainly you're reading into it? making something out of nothing?

ellie coughs, flustered. you both stop 'dancing,' dropping your arms and facing each other straight on.

"hey," you say, your face scrunching in confusion, "i thought you were working on the study guide tonight."

your comment makes ellie recover and she breathes out a laugh in surprise, even though you were being serious.

"i thought you were working on the study guide tonight."

you frown and ellie rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you in pretend disappointment. "work on it with me tomorrow then," she tells you, nearly surprising herself with how quickly it came out.

her voice is like honey, making it impossible to pull away from her, even mentally.

"really?" you eye her suspiciously.

she nods and shrugs, and you promise to think it over. standing this close to ellie felt dangerous to the small amount of confidence you tried to build up. she smelled almost earthy, a warm deep scent, maybe a touch of vanilla and... weed?

a hand brushed your waist but it wasn't ellie's, the body stepping into view. the guy from earlier that your friend had sent over came around to stand next to ellie, his eyelids heavy.

"what the fuck, dude?" ellie questioned sharply.

"i was watching you dance," he mused, glancing at you and then ellie. it was hardly even dancing, you were just making each other laugh, so your skin crawled with the idea of that guy watching with ill intent.

"okay, go watch someone else," ellie shot back, her tongue sharp.

you glanced around, catching sight of your friend from earlier. she was watching the interaction, as if it were encouraged, and gave you a thumbs up. you exhaled in disbelief, turning your attention back to ellie. she was staring the guy down, brows furrowed.

"you ladies wanna dance with me or what?" he was cocky, drunk, and standing way too close.

"fuck off," ellie spat, a lot like how you did earlier when you thought that he was the one who grabbed your arm.

he stood in disbelief, unmoving, so you grabbed ellie's hand and dragged her away.

"they should be banned from public places," you grumble. ellie snorts, features immediately softening as she turns to you.

"this is ridiculous. do you wanna get out of here?"

at her proposition, your heart leaps. you definitely do, but the idea terrifies you nonetheless. despite yourself, you automatically nod.

"let me go find dina and jesse, see if they're gonna leave or stick around longer. wanna come with?"

you almost say yes but shake your head instead. "i should go tell the person i came with that i'm leaving, just in case."

ellie nods in understanding. she starts to turn away but stops short, eyes boring into your own. "meet me right by the entrance, okay? i'll be quick."

it's your turn to signal your understanding now, and you head back through the crowd to find your... friend. it's pretty easy to spot her but not to gain her attention.

"hey. hey, i'm gonna go, alright?"

she whips around at you, confused. "you're leaving?"

"yeah."

"are you gonna be safe?"

despite being ignored and ambushed with a creepy guy, you smile at her concern. it's the bare minimum, really, but it's appreciated.

"yeah," you repeat. "it's... a friend from class. she's good. safe," you express.

you say your goodbyes and head straight for the doors like you agreed with ellie. you’re only waiting alone for a moment before she joins you, car keys in hand. dina and jesse aren’t following, and instantly you feel like an idiot.

“oh my god, ellie, i totally sabotaged your night.”

“what? no you didn’t,” ellie disagrees.

you push through the doors together, greeted by harsh winds. the cold evening air was shocking as it hit your face, self doubt washing over you.

"you were just trying to have a fun night with your friends and i... i'm such an idiot," you mutter.

"whoa, hey, you're alright," ellie presses softly. she stops walking to look at you, but looks as though she has to work up the courage before she continues speaking. "i'm glad you here were, alright? dina and jesse are fine."

your face is burning and she hesitates again, but the worry expressed on your face causes ellie to continue on.

"honestly i was getting ready to leave before i saw you," she admits, looking in any direction away from you.

you beg and plead with yourself not to read into it, but why did she hesitate? why would you be nervous to tell that to someone who's just a friend? are you reading too much into it, or are you friendzoning yourself?

"ellie," you breathe, and she finally brings her attention back to you. the wind howls through the night, whipping your hair across your cheeks. your heart beats quicker but ellie grows reserved, adjusting her weight on her feet.

"i'll drive you to your dorm," she tells you as she beings walking once more. you quickly follow behind, in a trance of wondering and wanting.

it felt different from before, different from sitting next to her in class and different from studying together. what was usually light hearted jokes and easy conversation was replaced by a thick cloud of nerves, a tension that conjured itself out of nowhere and you desperately wanted to crack a joke but you felt shy.

you were texting a lot lately, you had some serious late night conversations about your families, stressors, lives, anything to get to know each other but this was different. ellie seemed almost solemn now, guarded, and you were worried that you had gotten too comfortable too quickly.

you worried as you walked to the car and you worried as she drove. ellie did exactly as she said she would and you arrived safely to your building, but your feet were glued to the ground as you reached the door and you desperately wanted to selfishly stay with her, just a little longer.

"thanks for pretty much saving me tonight," you stated earnestly. "it sucked before you found me, i'm glad you did."

ellie's smile was crooked and sincere and a wave of relief washed over you. "see you tomorrow?" she asked, her eyebrows drawing up to her forehead.

"the study guide will be completed," you affirm, grinning back at the auburn haired girl.

you heave open the door to your building and ellie steps back to the car, but you call after her one final time. "text me when you're home safe," you urge her, and you can't see the smile that graces her face.

"i will," ellie promises, and she did.

after cleaning up you fall into bed, exhausted, but your mind is racing. you turn to your side, facing the wall that is decorated with two sticky notes. you lightly trace ellie's drawings with your finger, willing yourself to go to sleep so you won't be absolutely miserable with a lack of sleep by the morning.

you were seeing her again, tomorrow, and nothing else at that moment mattered.

not your endless piles of homework, or the way you were ditched tonight. not the fact that the weather was getting colder by the day and you still couldn't find your earmuffs, or that one of your finals was going to take place at 7am.

nothing else mattered... just ellie.

[ part five ]

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams college au #ellie tlou x reader #ellie williams fanfic #tlou x reader

[atthebell]

ok back from work as promised I think one of the most interesting parts of qcellbit’s character we get from the fuga backstory is we basically meet him post redemption arc. you have a character that did horrible things in the past that took steps to reconcile with the people he hurt and become a better person. and then you start the story there, and from there, the narrative asks what would it take to push him back to that person he used to be. It’s such an interesting way to set up your character, and it only gets more interesting when despite every hardship he goes through it turns out he can’t go back to being that person. that’s what I think a lot of people missed during the federation murders arc (due to all the blood. who can blame them really), the cell persona was just that, a persona. it was a tactical move to push away the people he cared about in an effort to protect them from the consequences of his actions. even with his mental health at rock bottom he was in his own way STILL trying to help other people. everything we’ve seen has shown that nothing short of losing everyone he cares about could push him over that edge, and yet there’s nothing he could ever do to make him trust himself not to. it’s enough to drive me to madness

YES yeah i think it's so interesting how like fuga as just a jokey incidental backstory to explain how tazercraft, felps, & cellbit know each other already ends up working so so well for qcellbit as a character and makes his narrative so interesting (and shows how great cc!cellbit is at roleplay). like yeah he was an awful cannibal murderer-- but when we meet him, he's just some guy who's a little too obsessed with puzzles and mysteries and a little on edge. he's a paranoid catboy with trauma, what's there to worry about?? but then we get to the eggs disappearing and the fed worker killings and you're SPOT ON with how he slips on his past like a suit of armor. none of that progress matters now, nothing of his life after that violence is important, look at the blood, look at the gruesome bodies, look at the messages and the big scary knife. but it's all an act, both for his loved ones & the other islanders & the federation. he wants them all to think he's lost it, that he's gone off the deep end and nothing can stop him, that losing his one thread to normalcy (richarlyson) broke him and reverted him back to f!cell. but that's not what happened-- it was a strategic, knowledgeable move from someone who knows himself and knows what would scare the people around him. the other islanders don't agree with his complete opposition to the federation, so he shows how far he's willing to go; the federation thinks he's compliant, so he shows them what he's willing to do to them to get what he wants, to show them that he's not under their thumb. and in the process he gets to shove aside all his own feelings and put on this version of himself, this monster that he thinks has been hiding inside all along, who can deal with it all and do what needs to be done. and we get to see the kinds of wounds that are still open that he's never really been able to heal from, and know that the cellbit we knew at the start wasn't really ever okay, even if he wasn't the man he was during fuga. that the therapy and the time and the freedom from prison still couldn't fix everything he has going on, that he has a lot to uncover and look into and heal from. i'm so glad you get the tactical side of the persona thing though i felt crazy at the time of the fed worker murders being like people he is doing this ON PURPOSE he's not reverting to anything!!!!! this is a strategic move to scare people and make himself into a target!!!!

#asks #bungusamogus #qsmp #cellbit #qsmp analysis #gahhhh your mind

[miguelswifey04]

wait a riff off of the universal POC household experience:

miguel is helping gabi with her math hw (who’s STRUGGLING, she did not get the STEM genes) and he’s desperately trying not release his inner dad because he’s trying to break the cycle of children crying due to their dads getting mad at them for not being able to do math.

YES THIS!! but my moms too because my mom literally made me break down 😭

miguel o’hara and gabriella o’hara

breaking the cycle of being emotionally abusive to your children while helping them with their homework.

it was heartwarming yet slightly challenging situation as he assisted gabriella with her math homework. he understood her struggles and empathized with the frustration she felt, but he was determined to break the cycle of parental pressure and children's tears. with a patient and gentle demeanor, miguel leaned over gabriella’s desk, his eyes scanning the equations and numbers she was wrestling with. “alright, let's take this step by step. don’t worry, mija, math can certainly be a bit tricky at times, but with some practice and a positive mindset, you'll get the hang of it."

gabriella sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. she felt a sense of relief knowing that miguel wasn't going to lose his temper over her difficulties. “thanks, papa. it just feels like my brain isn't wired for this stuff. i feel so dumb."

miguel shook his head, his face filled with sincerity and encouragement. “hey now love, none of that negative talk. you’re not dumb, gabriella. everyone has their strengths, and we all learn differently. it just takes a little extra effort sometimes, but i know you can do it." miguel guided his daughter through the problems, breaking them down into more manageable parts. he utilized different teaching techniques, ensuring he tailored his approach to her specific way of understanding.

in moments where gabriella’s frustration threatened to overtake her, miguel provided encouraging words, reminding her of her potential. “remember, we're not aiming for perfection here. progress and understanding are what matter. take a deep breath, you've got this."time ticked away as they persevered through the math problems. there were a few struggles, a couple of incorrect answers, but miguel smiled reassuringly after each challenge, showing gabriella that mistakes were merely part of the learning process.

as they finally wrapped up the last problem, gabriella looked up at miguel, a mix of relief and gratitude in her eyes. "thank you, papa. i couldn't have done it without your patience and support. you really helped me understand this."miguel beamed, proud of gabriella for persevering and pushing through the difficulties. “you did the hard work yourself, gabriella. i was just here to guide you. remember, math is just one aspect of your incredible journey. your worth is not defined by numbers. you are intelligent, creative, and capable in so many ways."

gabriella's face brightened with a newfound confidence as she internalized her dad’s words. she felt a sense of empowerment, knowing that her worth extended far beyond her struggles with math. in that moment, miguel knew he had succeeded in breaking the cycle of pressure and anger that had haunted his own childhood. he filled the room with a warmth that radiated a genuine love and understanding, reminding his own daughter that her worth was immeasurable.

a/n: dad miguel 🔛🔝(of me)

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii @astro1bloom

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #atsv x reader #🌱 lin writes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider person #lin’s asks #♡´･ᴗ･`♡ lin answers #miguel o’hara drabble #gabriella o’hara

[saltymongoose]

Hear me out: yan!main four w their object of affections/ s/o that can purr

The boys got lots of purrs to give but what abt the reader? We need to hear it (or read it in this case aakdjdjs)

Definitely sounds like an interesting scenario, here are your hcs. :) <;3 (And my apologies for the extreme lateness 🙏! Work sent me to the shadow realm again oof.)

[Yandere] Their S/O Purrs Around Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

> 2BDamned was pleasantly surprised when he found out that you could purr. You were already close at this point, so you had no reservations about showing your emotions to him. He did make himself available for you to vent to if you ever needed it, and he was your closest “friend” at the S.Q. anyway, but he had no idea you truly felt that comfortable around him. He was touched, and very happy with the current turn of events.

> Doc doesn’t try too hard to get you to purr, at least not to the point where it becomes obvious. Subtly is his specialty, after all; the last thing he’d want to do is scare you off by becoming too overbearing or smothering in your view. However, this doesn’t mean he doesn’t marvel at you when you do purr around him.

> He’s very lucky that he has a mask to hide his face, otherwise you’d see the smile that appears the moment he hears the gentle rumbles erupt from you. That and the embarrassing blush he feels beginning to burn on his cheeks. (Time for being so open about those things could come later when the relationship between you was far stronger.)

> Although, sometimes he even allows himself to reciprocate, in the hopes that his own purring will encourage you to feel comfortable enough to do it more around him. To him, it's a small mark of progress, a sign that you are growing closer together, and he cherishes every occasion this happens.

> He never knew such a simple sound could ever make him so happy, and honestly he even feels foolish for the sheer elation that overcomes him whenever he hears it from you. But, unlike any other time, he's content to be a fool, as long as it's only for you. That's just scratching the surface of how deep his love for you is, something you'd come to find out soon enough if he has any say in it.

- [DEIMOS] -

> Unfortunately for him, Deimos finding out you can purr was not due to any action he did, but from one of your other friends instead. He walked in to find you giving them a hug, with a small, barely audible purr beginning to lull up in your throat, and honestly he's affronted by the sheer audacity exhibited by your friend here. Didn’t they already know you two were together? Sure, you weren’t “official” yet, but he thought your interactions made it obvious enough.

> He tries relentlessly to get you to purr, upping the ante on every romantic and comforting gesture that comes to his mind with the hope of making you happy enough to do so. If you thought he was supremely clingy and almost too generous with his gifts before, he really outdoes himself now.

> You know full well why he’s behaving this way now too, and honestly, his desperation to hear such an inconsequential noise from you is kind of amusing amusing. It’s not like you even do it that often around anyone else, but you guess he doesn’t know that.

> (He does, but you don't understand that he wants it to be a "thing" between you and him. He purrs so often around you that it's more akin to white noise at this point; he can't help it (he loves you that much), but he'd at least hope you'd be willing to just relax a bit more around him so he can hear yours in turn.)

> However, you can see why he’d want to hear you purr regardless. With how much he wants to be with you romantically, it’d probably mean a lot to him. It is one of the ultimate signs of trust for grunts, and it shows how happy you feel around him - both of which being things he seems to long for, no matter how much effort it takes.

> So, on a day when you feel particularly generous, you decide to loosen up and allow yourself to purr when he's attached himself to your side again. In an instant, you can feel Deimos' mouth curl into a wide smile against the nape of your neck, and an excited noise leaves him. He presses himself even closer to you, wanting to hear it with more clarity, and you feel warmth creep across your face.

> He just wants to bask in this moment alone with you, surrounded by the sound of your love and happiness. His breath is shaky as he forcefully quiets himself from making much noise, though his euphoria makes it increasingly difficult. He feels his adoration for you bloom to even greater heights, and if you were able to see his face, you'd only see the completely dazed, love-struck look he holds just for you.

> You mean everything to Deimos, and with this moment, he yearns even more for the day when you'll view him the same way - the day when you're his. And judging by this occasion, he's hopeful that it's closer than he initially thought.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

> The first time you purred around Hank wasn’t done on purpose, but rather a natural reaction to his own loud purring. He seemed to pause for a second, to which you grimaced to yourself, suddenly concerned with what he was thinking. Even after being around him for so long, he remained largely unpredictable to you. However, the sudden rough nuzzle you got from him after that moment was enough of a reassurance that he was in no way displeased.

> Despite how mysterious and downright confusing he is, Hank’s thought process concerning general affection is simple to understand. He loves you more than life itself and all the carnage within it, favoring you above all other things Nevada holds, so he reasoned that showing it to you would be the best way to get that across. Hence why he purrs so often around you and lavishes you with more loving gestures than you could ever ask for.

> If anything, the fact that this form of communication between you has occurred is far more important than you’d ever expect. Physical gestures are the easiest ways he’s found to convey his feelings, so you doing the same in turn (even if not completely on purpose) overjoys him. It shows that you understand him far more than any others do, which reinforces the fact that you must be meant for him, just as he is for you. 

> As an extension of that, you purring around him was definitely a sign that you returned his immense feelings. Or at least, you were beginning to. That must’ve been it.

> Hank doesn’t much care for the deeper sentimental meanings of most things, and everybody knows that. But if he was truly as ambivalent and callous as most see him, he probably wouldn’t be feeling the fuzzy, burning sensation of true happiness when he hears you simply purr. The only person that made him “soft” in that fashion was you. And he was more than okay with that.

- [SANFORD] -

> Sanford always had some curiosity about whether or not you’d purr around him (or even if you could), but he doesn’t approach it like it’s something he has to make you do. Was getting such a nice gesture of love back from you something of a fantasy for him? Maybe. But he’d never try to push you to do so; that type of act just feels too manipulative to him.

> He’d long decided that if you were going to return his feelings, it’d have to be solely on your own. He can do his best to convey his fondness for you in the meantime anyway. Luckily for him though, he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

> After all this time, you were pretty comfortable around Sanford. You knew at this point that despite what his reputation suggests, he’d never hurt you. Add this to how doting he is and it made complete sense that you’d be fine with purring around him. So you just do, simple as.

> It might not be a big deal to you, hell you might not even notice some of the time. But it is a huge thing for Sanford. Finding someone that you can trust to this level in Nevada is a rare thing to begin with, and he knows that it was probably difficult to get comfortable around him at first because of his job and everything else.

> So when he hears you purr around him for the first time, and feels your body vibrate the slightest bit from where it's comfortably leaning against him, he honestly feels like he might cry. He becomes even more of a mess when you give him a worried look and whisper little reassurances to him, unsure of why he's so weepy all of a sudden.

> While he doesn't get as emotional in the subsequent times you purr, it still has a way of tugging at his heartstrings. Your purr is a physical sign of your intimate connection; a clear way to communicate to him that you genuinely care for him and trust him above other grunts. It seems like his heart beats twice as fast just from hearing it, and the amount of joy it brings him almost aches in its intensity.

> Sanford loves you so much that it hurts, but to him it's a good sort of pain. The kind that tells him that what he feels for you is real and far-reaching, the kind of love that he knows will last forever. While he returns your purrs with his own softer ones, he goes over plans to fully reveal these deep affections to you in a way you truly deserve. Only the best for his beloved after all.

#tw: yandere #finally!!!! god in heaven this took a long time to get out lmao #my writing #yandere hank j. wimbleton #yandere deimos #yandere sanford #yandere 2bdamned #2bdamned x reader #hank j. wimbleton x reader #deimos x reader #sanford x reader #yandere madness combat #yandere madcom #madness combat x reader

[smallestapplin]

OHH I GOT A GOOD ANGST ONE INSPIRED BY ALL THE KAMADO SLANDER!

What if during their missions the hero befriends this pack of hitsuian zoarks and zoras?

They have helped this pack many times during their missions and the pack has grown to care for their dear human friend.

But when you get banished hell has frozen over and what if you were seriously hurted during the banishment?

On top of the mountain everyone even thoughs who helped you will see an illusion of you dying body as the leader of the pack inches towards kamado scarring him for his actions!

Enjoy my fuckery!

Reader is gender neutral, the only she is the alpha Zoroark. Mentions of blood but nothing descriptive.

-

-

You don’t know what you did to deserve being banished, you only did what you were told.

No matter who stood up for you, they were instantly silenced to threatened with war, and that wasn’t something you wanted for any of those you still care for.

You didn’t know what else to do.

You weren’t given the chance to pack your things, or anything at all really, just whatever you had on you at the time.

The clans nor their leaders could help you.

So you wondered around, trying to find something, anything that could help you prove you innocence.

That drive lead you to the Alabaster Icelands.

Snowpoint temple seemed old enough to carry some secrets, maybe you could find something there?

While you set up your own little campsite in a cave you hear something, a curious sounding whine before it morphs into a happy yip.

Looking behind you, you see a little zoura you helped a while ago, if the cut out of their ear was anything to go by.

“Hey little buddy.”

You coo softly, but the small Pokémon senses something wrong, letting out a small whine, more zouras show up.

Ah, it’s the entire pack you’ve helped over the months.

You remember healing them when you found them and handing them back to a very angry and cautious alpha.

Speaking of, a louder, deeper grumble greets you.

The other zouras and Zoroarks of the pack form a soft circle around you, just as the alpha Zoroark makes her appearance.

“Hello to you too mama.”

The family looks at you, all letting out various sad or comforting sounds. The larger Zoroark curls around you, in an effort to keep you warm.

“Thank you.”

It’s funny being held like this. Your thoughts begin to tumble and before you know you, you’re sobbing into the fluffy mane of the Zoroark around you.

You cried your heart out to the whining pack, venting about all that has happened.

Your banishment.

You betrayal.

Your heartache.

They left it all.

The alpha Zoroark rubbed her cheek against your, wrapping herself up in your scarf before moving away. She stood up, speaking to her children before most of the zoroarks left, not without giving you a nuzzle.

One Zoroark was left to keep watch over you and the zouras.

You cried a little more, hugging and cuddling with your new family before falling asleep, surrounded by their fluffy warmth.

You sleep safe and protected, completely unaware of what is yet to come.

The pack of zoroarks quickly move in towards the village.

The have arrived by the next night.

The alpha looks down at the scarf you have yet to notice she took.

They hurt her pup.

They left her pup abandoned in the wilderness to suffer the same fate as her.

They will not be forgiven.

The meeting between the commander and clan leaders was dragging on.

It was late but no progress was being made.

Kamado sighs at Irida and Adaman’s stubbornness, the two were still upset about his ruling over you.

“It’s been almost a week! No one as heard from them, let alone see them!” Adaman’s patience is wearing thin.

“What if something happened to them? These lands aren’t exactly kind.”

Irida was worried, she heard from Lian that the day of you banishment you asked for her, but due to Kamado’s orders he couldn’t help and you left.

You are her dear friend, she hopes you’re safe.

Adaman’s anger is only to mask his fear, Irida is right, these lands aren’t kind, and with you by yourself, with no guards or professor on the look out for you, who knows what could happen.

The door to the side suddenly flings open.

A powerful burst of malicious pressure forcing it open.

Red claws grip the door frame, the Zoroark lowers herself to enter the office.

Before any made a move the gasp.

That’s your scarf, that’s your galaxy uniform scarf that you never took off.

Slowly the Zoroark morphs into you, a blood stained you.

“…..hero?” Irida’s voice breaks, her hands over he mouth with tears stinging her eyes.

Adaman and Kamado stand shocked and horrified at the realization.

It’s you.

“Why did you do this to me?” It’s your voice, it sounds so uncanny.

Your eyes however stay that stark yellow, glaring down the commander.

“I-I didn’t!- I-“

“I will give you a fate like mine.”

The threes face’s paled, neither clan leader’s teams were strong enough to take on such a strong, angry foe.

A part of them didn’t want to. It was you after all, you had every right to be angry.

They stare at the Zoroark’s illusion. It had to be you, the creature had your scarf after all.

You didn’t seem to have any open injuries, but the blood showed just where you were hit.

Adaman felt like puking at the thought of your pain.

With all the commotion, Cyllene and Laventon burst in.

Laventon’s loud cry startled the Zoroark, bringing her attention toward the other door.

Was that your pack mate you spoke fondly of?

“Everyone get back! Abra!”

Ah these the strict one you spoke of as well.

She lunges, breaking her illusion and going for Kamado’s throat.

But Abra teleports him out of the room just in time.

With a loud snark and howl, the village echoes in several howls.

“If you hadn’t banished them this wouldn’t be happening!”

“How was I suppose to know they’d be killed and turned into THAT!?”

“Are you so closed off you don’t see the world you live in anymore!?”

Kamado argues with Irida and Adman, he didn’t think this would happen.

“Enough! We need to take ever safety precaution we have. Zoroarks are dangerous, we won’t know who’s one until they slip up.”

Cyllene quickly takes over the situation.

“Lock down the village and get everyone inside this building state!”

“Yes ma’am!” Galaxy guards run out to round everyone up, alarms are being signaled and the lock down commences.

Hours into the lock down, well into the next morning, everything seems fine.

Kamado spent most of it dealing with the villagers, ignoring the harsh glares being sent his way by the other leaders, Cyllene, and Laventon.

His mind only replaying what happened yesterday.

You couldn’t be dead…could you? Though why else would a pack of zoroarks come to his village? They always stay in the Icelands.

The realization that he had a hand in your demise, seeing a ghostly you, so angry at him.

It made his heart sink.

The commander does his best to make sure that side door stays locked up tight. He always checks to make sure it stays that way, in fear it’ll open and you’ll be standing there, ready to finish the job.

-

With food secured and their mother’s actions done, the pack heads back to their den.

The alpha lets out a soft coo at the sight of you playing with the other pups.

“Oh! Welcome back.”

You holy in surprise when each Zoroark drops human food by you.

“Is that what y’all left for?”

You look at them confused as she nudges you towards it.

“Well, thank you!” You gave some of them some pets before eating some of the food.

Looking over to the mother of the pack you chuckle.

“I was wondering where my scarf went, though you can keep it, it matches you!”

Your chuckle turns into a laugh as she licks your face, fully trying to give you a bath.

Maybe staying here won’t be so bad.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokémon #pokemon fanfic #pokemon adaman #pokemon irida #pokemon kamado #kamado slander #kamado hate #this is a kamado slander blog #shitting on kamado hours #long post

[choocokookie]

It is impossible to deny how hard your work is… and Toasty watches closely as you arrive each time more tired back home. Because of that, they decided to give you a very unexpected service when you finally came back to his arms. Please, allow them to please you tonight.

cw: explicit nsfw, oral, gn reader, nakedtoaster x reader

minors dni

Sometimes, you actually wonder if this job you have is worth all the effort you put into it. You wonder if the bad sleep hours and the terrible eating habits you developed due the lack of time to a decent lunch break. You wonder if Toasty was right after all and maybe you should try to find another one. You never actually liked to work there and the only thing that was making you stay there was the fear of changing, which followed you no matter where you went.

Your face was starting to show the signs of such a lack of care of your own health, and particularly, for your loved one it was a heartbreaking vision. They already had put inside their mind that their words won’t be enough to make you give up from such an exhausting work that slowly drains your soul… but each time you appeared more and more tired day after day of work, their worries about your mental and physical health only increased.

However, this particular day was more than ever clear that the stress that you carried over your shoulders was a bit too much and were driving you to a point of no coming back. Your eye bags were bigger than ever and your whole body only wanted to lay down as fast as possible in the comfort bed that you shared with the one who was able to steal your fragile heart… It was like that at any moment, you would just fall to the floor and lose your own conscience due how overworked you were. And because of noticing that this day had been particularly rough, your boyfriend didn’t think twice before asking you to lay on the bed and spread your legs after you came back from the warm bath, who kindly embraced your skin.

The long haired man sometimes could be considered a bit awkward when the subject was a more intimate touch, however, they truly were a master when the subject was making you squirm with pleasure. Your fingers strongly held the blankets as they kindly stimulated your most sensitive spot, being rewarded with sweet moans you had no shame to allow out of your soft lips, which you bit as a way to repress such a pleasure who was taking control of your senses.

Toasty is glad to say the least… he is glad to see you so closely melting due the provocative touches he left over your body, he is glad to hear all those sweet noises that come out from your mouth. The work his tongue could do was just so good… it was just like you were receiving a sweet dose of some kind of drug and slowly becoming addicted to such a feeling. The passion and effort this lovely person putted over making you feel good was heartwarming, and surely, you were glad to watch your lover working into licking and stimulating with his thin fingers every single part of your genitalia that could make you feel good. You ran your hands over his blond hair, which progressively became purple… and with care, you helped him out, guiding his head through the movements that would be most proper to do to finally drive you to the edge of pleasure.

You had met with their blue eyes who were deeper than their own ocean… and just by that, you already could tell they were pretty much enjoying themself, loving so much to eat you up this way, to taste a bit of what you could offer them. It didn’t take much time for this sensation of ecstasy to start to increase in insane levels, making you bring one of your hands to your mouth, so this way you could suppress all those lewd noises. Your whole body was shaking, which was a green flag to your beloved only to intensify his attempts to drive you completely crazy. 

Finally, you reached your limit… you didn’t take much time to finally give in and cum. Gasping for air, you tried your best to recompose yourself after such a night of pleasure… looking for your partner, you couldn’t avoid noticing how red his cheeks were. Softly giggling to yourself, you didn’t think twice before wrapping your own arms around his tall and slim silhouette.

How lucky you were by having someone like him at your side.

#blooming panic x reader #bloomic #blooming panic #nakedtoaster x reader #nakedtoaster #toasty #toasty x reader #blooming panic fanfic

[seleniangnosis]

𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓪𝓭𝓿𝓲𝓬𝓮

Pile order: 1 -> 2 -> 3

Pile one 🤍

Dear pile one it seems that you are right now getting out of a situation that has caused you a lot of stress, pain , agony ( especially in terms of mental health).

This situation might have been caused by untrustworthy people, backstabbers, but you proved yourself to be strong and steadfast whether you feel like it or not , or you have put your trough self confinement due to past situations which hurt you deeply.

You are now ready to enter a new phase of new found strength and fulfillment! Good things are coming and you are encouraged to to look forward no matter what your mind tells you. You won't get an instant reward or gratification, but slowly things will come into place , don't become frustrated if improvement takes time to show up, nothing happens overnight.

The relationship you have with your friends and cherished people in your life will show helpful in anchoring you into the reality of your situation and mentain you on the right track.

The way trough which you can navigate this new phase of your life is by giving yourself and your mind a rest. If you feel like you have to do something all the time in order for change to take place... in this case you'll be quite wrong.

Action is for sure welcomed, but it can also burden your mind and bring you back to where you started, changing your focus from the outside world to your inner world will prove to be tremendously beneficial in dealing with the remains of your struggles. Rest , meditate ( if this is something you already practice) and ponder upon what has brought you here, don't become too impulsive!

Pile 2 ⚔❤

My dear it seems that you are currently blocking your own path and your own success. Theres is a spark of creativity and determination present, but you fear taking a leap of faith and a direct approach. If you've always had a desire to control everything that is happening in your life ... this won't help you now , we can get opportunities for change everytime but they won't stay open forever. Whatever opportunity you're afraid to take, whatever change you're afraid to make, it won't keep you safe. You'll look back to this moment and regret not taking action sooner.

The circumstances will provide you with some help in changing your mentally and viewing your limbo state from a different perspective, you have pondered and analysed the situation for long enough, now it's time to act.

Find your courage, passion and bravery, and redirect your course!

Something that can help you navigate this transition period would be to take a more unorthodox approach. Do it your own way. Have a fresh start , don't let yourself bothered by what others tell you to do. Break the established pattern and dare to let your aptitudes shine !

If what's keeping you stuck is the fear of shocking, being too different,  or not making your family proud ( be a disgrace to them ) , you should ponder upon what is making YOU happy,  because in the end is your life and you are the one who has to be satisfied with the results!

Have more faith in your uniqueness!

Pile 3 ✨💛

I'm happy for you because whoever chose this one seems to be at a point in life where they feel emotionally stable and counting their blessings, yet you feel like you haven't put enough effort into your life/ actions.

You are a diligent and hardworking person, who is a bit concerned with the amount of accomplishments they have.  Even if you might feel like your efforts weren't enough, or they will not prove themselves that helpful, you have to give yourself more credit!

Soon you might be faced with a new decision that might affect the course of your life a bit. A chapter of your life has ended, and you are invited to let go of unnecessary baggage that's hindering your progress. If you recognize having an important lesson to learn lately, then your lesson has been learned and this experience will serve to your future development.

If a new idea or inspiration hits you out of nowhere, do not dismiss them, they might prove to be useful. Other than that , what follows for you is a period of slowing down and rethinking your options.

Be kind to yourself, do not rush and use this time to nurture your creativity, your mental state and do not rush into the action of taking immediate control of your life.  Sometimes the best answer comes with time.

If you deem your past experiences to be helpful lessons for others , consider sharing your wisdom with those who are in a similar situation.

#tarot spread #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarot community #tarotcommunity #divination

[yvesdot]

I do a lot of book reviews, and so I am occasionally asked how I handle the discomfort of trying to be "objective" when evaluating art. The truth is, I don't; I aim for empathy: the understanding that someone can do something I don't like and don't get and it can be good; and self-confidence: assurance that I make my judgments lovingly and with sufficient thought.

With that said, here are my Grand Thrix ways of judging good art (my own and others'). Maybe they will help some other people! (Even if only to decide that they don't trust my taste. ^^)

1. WHAT IS THE GOAL?

2. IS IT A GOOD ONE?

3. DID THE ARTIST SUCCEED?

focus factors: intention, good-heartedness, and surprise.

WHAT IS THE GOAL?

It's useful to ask what an author appears to be trying to do-- does this author value lengthy description, for example, or are they trying to be as concise as possible? Do they want to surprise the reader with a plot element, or is this a case of intentional dramatic irony? Does the author want their work to move slowly or quickly? How do you know this, and how certainly do you know it?

Above all else I want to read a confident book: a book where the author could not only defend every choice, but speak passionately on why they chose it. Is the prose concise or long-winded? Does the plot meander or adhere to strict regularity? How does the book maintain conversation with its fellows? "Effort," "difficulty," or "originality" are smokescreens: any choice can be justified, and I want to see the author choosing with intention.

Examples: Most Romance genre books are purposefully using simple prose. A book's climax is almost certainly trying to be climactic. It can sometimes be hard to tell whether an author is intentionally or accidentally confusing the reader.

IS IT A GOOD ONE?

What makes a good artistic endeavor, to you? I generally prioritize good-heartedness (love, joy, kindness, etc.-- which can manifest in making your reader sob like a baby!) and surprise (doing something new with something old, showing me something unique, working around my expectations) above all else. You might prefer goals of genre-busting, progressive politics, pushing the boundaries of language, and so on. Frankly, there's no objective answer to whether you "should" or "should not" try to do a given thing with your art.

Examples: Most literary fiction is not concerned with the kind of plot structure I personally love. Books written with other minority groups in mind may purposefully alienate me in order to make a point about whose perspective ought to be catered to. Some books intentionally insult the reader in a way I don't feel is merited.

DID THE ARTIST SUCCEED?

We all know the feeling: the book is supposed to be sexy, and it is not. The scene is supposed to be serious, and it is not. The dialogue is supposed to be funny, and you wish you were being shot in the head rather than forced to read it. I try to ask myself how confident I am in what the author wanted and why they might have failed before railing against a book; there's a difference between a debut author struggling with plot and an established author being transphobic because nobody bothered to hire a sensitivity reader.

On the other side of the coin, you have the books that don't personally connect with you but are clearly well-written: filled with tropes you don't like, effective at elements that annoy you, ultimately not something you enjoy at all but clearly effortful and lovingly crafted pieces of art. Often I have to concede the author is doing something fascinating and doing it well, but good Lord if it doesn't personally bore me to tears. Oh well! Someone out there is reading the same book and gushing; it's just a matter of getting the right reader.

Examples: I was confused, but I see that the author wanted to confuse me, and though I didn't enjoy that confusion, I agree that it made sense and it worked; credit is due. When I'm reading YA I often give allowances for a novel which has a lot of silly unbelievable drama, because it's more than fair to write that way for teens. You won't find me knocking bara just because that's not my kind of man; clearly it works for its audience (whom I love).

To put it more broadly, did the artist go into their work hoping to do something (with intention)? Was the thing they were hoping to do something worth doing (something good-hearted and interesting)? Did they succeed? If so: 5/5! I hope this metric is useful to someone else, and that it brings infinitely more artistic joy into the world.

#txt #booklr #writeblr #bookblr #yves talks #on reading #important writing updates #This is really just a reference like I said. I'm curious what other people's lists would look like.

[eclectic-ways]

If you’re currently in a serious relationship and most of the above don’t sync well with your partner; I urge you to save your time, efforts and soul, and move on.

It is what I did with my ex I broke up with a few days ago and we were about to get married. After all the things I’ve endured to contain the relationship; him totally (kept) being a narcissistic ass, thoughtless, selfish, fussy, scrappy, aggressive and aggravating EVEN during my severe fibro flare-up days (due to all the stress he’s had me put me up with previously); and not to mention reversing what’s happened in his head blaming me for everything; refusing to acknowledge or own all the wrongdoings; was the final straw.

I was also feeling very suicidal for days. I had a few “attempts” and many plans & strong “wishes” as well. And he knew and witnessed all of it. Our last day: He pushed — I backed off; he pushed — I said “Please, not today, I feel really sick. I can’t right now.” Then he got even more triggered as I was not responding to his aggression. He felt that I don’t care about him and don’t love him. And that it’s always about me. None of this is true, I swear to God.

“You always excuse your illness to treat me bad. I won’t let you manipulate me anymore. I don’t care about your illness anymore. I’m going home.” while proceeding to pack up. What a projection eh… All I did that day was to interrupt his sentence twice to assume what he was gonna say in a joking manner. And yeah…

All the “improvements and healing” I thought he’s had during these 6 months we lived together was just a facade I madly wanted to believe in. I still love him so much and this is gonna be real hard for me. But something deeply shut down in me. If someone is still crossing the line when it’s a matter of life and death, that right there is NOT love.

The sooner I choose myself, the less damage I will get which I’ve had more than enough in life let alone in this relationship. I’m sick of getting stuck in fight & flight mode, traumas, stress; being in shocking frustration; having to express and validate myself and health issues; giving up from myself for the sake of “love”. Not anymore.

Na-uh.

I thought I’ve healed a lot and had a big enlightenment over the last 2 years of isolation enough not to put up with bullshits like this. I’m disappointed in myself. Even though, I had certain boundaries and rules in the beginning and was never willing to negotiate; he crushed me hard progressively.

He unloaded all his baggage in time. I resisted a lot but eventually I watched my ID dissolve and my soul fade away. I wasn’t even doing my spiritual practices anymore, for instance, because he judges and mocks. And there are so many other things like this and different things…

Anyway. I hope I survive. And when I do, I hope I can be more than my survival and finally start living rather than just existing. My potentials still await me. I know it.

#to love #to love and be loved #to love someone #love #relationship goals #partnership #serious relationship #Jillian Turecki #love quotes #facts #love facts #breakup #psychological abuse #surviving narcissism #bpd blog #fibrolife #choose yourself #suicidal #narcissim #bpd #bpd fp #fibro blog #fibrowarrior #heartbreak #healing #ptsd warrior #toxic relationship

[oraclekleo]

@taste-like-vanilla + Minatozaki Sana (Twice) - The Path of the Dragon - Relationship Progress ver. Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

This a digital content only, no physical item will be shipped to you

Due to this fact, there are no refunds for paid readings

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: @taste-like-vanilla

Deck(s): The Light Seer’s Tarot

Spread: The Path of the Dragon - Relationship Progress ver.

Questions:

The Offering (First Meeting) 

The Sacrifice (Dating) 

The Fox (Kissing) 

The Punishment (Making Out) 

The Purifying Fire (First Night) 

The Death (Sexual Chemistry) 

The Dragon (Wedding)

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Minatozaki Sana

Stage Name: Sana

Group: Twice

DOB: 29.12.1996

Blood Type: B

MBTI: ENFP

Sun Sign: Capricorn

Chinese Sign: Fire Rat

Life Path Number: 3

Masterpost: TWICE

Minatozaki Sana

@taste-like-vanilla + Sana (Twice)

DOB: 29.12.1996 Blood Type: B MBTI: ENFP Sun Sign: Capricorn Chinese Sign: Fire Rat Life Path Number: 3

Spread: The Path of the Dragon - Relationship Progress ver. Deck: The Light Seer’s Tarot

The Offering (First Meeting) [31] - V The Hierophant

You have been acting a certain way most of your life, following the teachings and patterns you found fit. However, once you meet Sana, those are no longer helpful or relevant to you. Nobody says you should disrespect traditions but maybe they are no longer suited for you and Sana. Once you meet, it feels like a gateway towards new horizons, you make your own rules now, you are free to follow your own compass. It might even feel like a spiritual awakening, something grand happening, pieces of puzzle falling into their place.

The Sacrifice (Dating) [32] - 8 of Pentacles

Either you or Sana or both of you are perfectionists in a way. Your dating phase is likely to be carefully scripted, crafted and scheduled in order to build the bond and relationship. Love is your goal and you pursue it consistently and methodically. You are likely to always find time for each other, no matter how the schedules are packed. You excel in honest and direct communication while dating and you hardly ever feel the need to hide or tell white lies to each other. You don’t take shortcuts towards a happy relationship, you put your energy, passion and effort into this and it’s likely to pay off in connection based on a solid foundation.

The Fox (Kissing) [14] - VI The Emperor

This is a very dom type of card. Your first kiss and all the kisses that come is likely to originate in a firm determination and based in solid unshakeable facts. Your kissing sessions might lack some emotional depth to them but the more they are passionate and mastered. While the desire is high, you are still able to control the impulses and keep the reins in your hands. You are not likely to lose your head in the kiss, more likely it makes you more alert of what’s going on. Hickies and teeth marks may occur frequently as you both put some force into your kissing.

The Punishment (Making Out) [41] - Ace of Pentacles

Your kissing is likely to often escalate into make out sessions when you both get rather handsy and thirsty for skinship. There’s nothing cute or giggly about your make outs, you take them seriously and you put a lot of passion and desire into them. Your make outs are not catapulting you to the cloud 9, they ground you, make you feel firmly connected and they are very physical. Touching, stroking, squeezing, scratching, sucking, licking and pushing and pulling are all likely to be part of your routine. The ace holds a big potential so it’s very likely your make out sessions serve as foreplay for even hotter action.

The Purifying Fire (First Night) [51, 52] - 8 of Wands, XVII The Star

With this type of high physical attraction between you and Sana it’s no surprise that the decision to take things further is made in a split-second. At one point your make out escalates and there’s no way back. Not that any of you would actually want to rewind the time. While the wands here signify high speed and momentum, the Star card is an assurance that you are both on the right path and your decision, no matter how quick, is a right one. Your first time might be a real quickie, a result of pent up tension and suppressed desires. Once it happens, it feels nearly healing, it’s simply the cure for your horny ache. Lol… Sorry for the expression, but it came to my mind so I have to share it with you to be completely honest.

The Death (Sexual Chemistry) [13] - King of Wands

Oh yeah! The chemistry is good. Like if you haven’t guessed that from the previous parts. The physical and sexual attraction is very strong between you and Sana, you genuinely feel pulled to each other like a magnet. The passion and lust is freely flowing in between you, creating delightful spicy tension. You can jokingly seduce each other during the day only to act upon your jokes at night.

The Dragon (Wedding) [29] - 9 of Cups

Sana’s and your wedding would be a dream come true. A fulfilled wish, a grand occasion celebrated with all the loved ones. The cups here can denote more of a private occasion with only the ones that are closest to both of you but taken to perfection in all aspects - dresses, flowers, venue, music, cake, everything is picture perfect and according to your taste.

Thank you for reading!

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[the-northern-oracle]

THURSDAY TAROT: HEALING

April 20th, 2023

Welcome to today’s Tarot reading! The focus for today will be self-healing. What do you need to know in order to heal your heart, mind, and soul? Please choose a pile below and then proceed to receive your message.

Pile One/Skull, Pile Two/Cloud, Pile Three/Dove

Let’s begin!

PILE ONE/SKULL

You are feeling a lack of faith in yourself and are allowing the pressure of life to overwhelm you. This is due to your tendency to place high expectations on yourself. You truly are a creative person with so much potential, but your drive for perfection is holding you back. This is causing you more anxiety than you may realize, which is only serving to push you deeper into a place of hopelessness. The further you go, the worse it will get, sending you into a spiral from which there seems to be no escape. You need to look deeper within yourself and learn to master both your conscious and subconscious mind. Consider what external influences are having this negative effect on you. Is there someone in your life who is demanding or overbearing? The key is learning that it is only your own opinion that matters. You must accept that taking care of your own spiritual needs and mental health is a priority. Have compassion for yourself and know that there is very little that can grow in rocky soil. It is time to focus on yourself and what truly makes you happy. Cut yourself some slack and find comfort in who you are, not in who you or others think you should be. Progress, not perfection.

PILE TWO/CLOUD

A painful past causes blockages on your road to self-healing. It seems like every time you try, something ends up going wrong. Your life is full of “Tower moments” – major shake-ups and perceived failures around every corner. As a result, you are starting to lose your passion for life and are asking yourself why you should even bother trying to move forward. The problem is, you’re giving too much of yourself to the external influences of the world. You’re looking at every setback as an inconvenience rather than an opportunity for growth. Understand that life is all about balance, the give and the take. Spend some time reconnecting with your own energy and getting in touch with your intuition. Everything that you feel is holding you back is merely an illusion, a shadow that is attempting to cover up your own splendid truth. There are many energies in the world and it is imperative that you learn to take what vibes with you and leave the rest. Steer your focus away from the mundane for a little while and place your attention on your spiritual journey, rediscovering your unique soul’s purpose.

PILE THREE/DOVE

You struggle when it comes to interpersonal relationships. It seems like you really just cannot connect with other people on a deep level or that you are misunderstood by those around you. This has led to feelings of isolation and stagnation as well as a rather shaky sense of self. The underlying cause of this is that you are not truly putting forth the effort to build healthy relationships, not only with others but with yourself. This could be due to a fear of opening up to others, possibly due to past rejections. It is a difficult cycle, wanting to build confidence but relying on outside opinions to shape your view of who you are. First and foremost, you must learn to accept who you are before you can begin to let yourself be accepted by others. You need to learn to balance the head and the heart – that is, don’t let your own feelings of low self-worth lead to irrational thoughts. For every perceived flaw, try to find a reason to be happy with who you are. Take the time to look within yourself and see that you do hold the answers; you simply need to trust your own instinct. Appreciate the parts of yourself worth celebrating and know that you can change anything that you don’t like. Find a healthy balance first and then you can work on the rest.

#spiritual #occult #tarot #divination #pick a pile #self healing

[thecoolerliauditore]

HEY ANON! Idk what it is but im feeling super duper extra forgiving and kind today so I've decided to actually type up a response to that ask but im answering it like this cus i don't wanna subject my followers to having to scroll thru what u wrote 👍

stuff below the cut (heed the warnings in the tags)

this is the context, for those curious

FIRST OFF this is so so so SO not okay to send to anyone but ESPECIALLY not a stranger on the internet. Anon you are so lucky I am as comfortable as I am reading and talking about depression/suicide and (I hope) you didn't send this to someone who it could potentially trigger and that I am as normal as I am and not someone who would respond to this callously.

This is such a jump from "i don't draw good", nobody on this website is your therapist or your parent and nobody owes you the time of day to hear you vent. You really don't deserve a response at all but I am doing this because 1. I am nice and very very bored and 2. I believe I used to kind of be like you so I'm somewhat sympathetic.

That being said re: the 'draw more' comic

Anon not everything is about you or directly addressed to you. The message of that comic isn't to just draw more (if anything, mindlessly grinding art isn't the most productive studying you can do once you reach a certain skill level imo), it's to illustrate your mindset and why it's flawed.

The artist in that comic is frustrated with their own progress and skill only because they cannot see the 100x amount of work their more experienced counterpart put in. That doesn't mean their own effort doesn't matter, it just means they have no sense of scale and don't understand why, when they've done so much, they aren't as skilled as those around them.

It's this mindset that inevitably leads to the assumption that other people are just born more talented or didn't have to work as hard for their skills when they certainly did (this might not have been what you intended to say but using words like "life is unfair" paints a very specific impression). Which is. Frustrating, you could imagine, for those of us who have pushed through that period of growth only to be met with "oh woe is me, not blessed by the art muse like your holiness".

I put that there because your message reminded me of it. The last thing it's meant to be is a direct message towards You to Draw More.

re: learning art

My guy nobody is happy with their art straight away. I wasn't happy with my art for like. 6 years.

Learning art is as much of a mental battle as it is a physical one. The improvement over time chart is something I've tried to keep in mind for years when it comes to those "dip" periods in which it suddenly feels like you suck.

I've seen quite a few people touch on it in recent years but the first time I saw it was in this Sycra video.

Just like a bad mental health day due to seasonal depression I found it much easier to bear once I could sense a 'dip' period incoming and braced myself for it. I even.. kind of learned to enjoy it and accept it as part of my growth process because it was a sign I was going to improve enormously in the coming month or so. but that might just be me lol.

Eitherway, hope this helps 👍speaking of that though

re: depression/suicide/mental health

Let's be honest with ourselves here there is something much deeper going on with you in your life if Drawing Pictures gets you feeling suicidal.

Art isn't this all or nothing thing, you're allowed to take breaks for years and then come back fresh, you're allowed to start drawing at age 98. There's no expiry date on it. It's not professional gymnastics.

What I'm trying to illustrate here is that art is clearly a symptom of a bigger problem in your life that has you taking this attitude with yourself and the way you talk is doing anything but helping your case. You know what's especially unhelpful tho is venting to faceless block man artists on tumblr about this who don't know your personal circumstances or like.. who you are at all. seriously.

This is a problem you're going to have to fix yourself. "seek therapy" is the stock standard answer that we would all love to accept but that isn't realistic for alot of obvious reasons. I can't say what would work for you but personally I'd advise looking to online free mental health resources (forums like reddit are a last resort but if you can find the right space for that then what works works).

If you want an artsy spin on it I'd recommend literally any number of artists' youtube videos on their artistic journeys and their own struggles with impostor syndrome, insecurities, depression, etc. Off the top of my head I recall Jazza has made a few over the years and i adore these marco bucci videos in particular.

The bottom line is that you're going to have to help yourself, Anon. You can't expect others to make themselves smaller to make you more comfortable, you have to create that space for yourself.

We can all uplift each other but no one's going to respond kindly if you come out of the gate downplaying everyone else's efforts.

#asks #cw suicide #cw suicidal ideation #suicide #depression #cw depression #cw vent #<-- tagging the living shit out of this cus that was so not okay to send to a stranger #art thoughts #discourse #Youtube

[yukikorogashi]

   Remember my friends, there are always going to be a bunch of haters and naysayers out there. And even if you also receive love and support from the other side, the former just LOVES having the stronger grip over you. Love knowing that what they say and think of you, ends up affecting you way more than the love and belief that you get from others. Making you think that you have nothing... that you, are nothing.

   I need to start by saying that I know I’m not one of the greatest and most talented artists/designers out there, and know that I have a long, long way to go (And yeah, I welcome that journey, and of course look forward to learning more, and to continue improving!). But more importantly... getting here has NEVER EVER BEEN EASY in the first place. I am indeed progressing and am indeed reaching those dream goals of mine, but not without tripping over more than one obstacle everyday.

   I have had lots of people laughed and looked down on me over the years, all from different age groups, areas of expertise, etc. People from other occupations laughing that I wanted to work in this area, instead of studying for a “real job”. One of my own art teachers even flinging my final year project down to the ground, and nearly even stomping her foot down on it, before storming right out (She was having a bad day, but it still wasn’t right for her to personally take it out on my art at the time). People that just... never took me and my skills seriously, but still think it was perfectly okay to take advantage of me and treat me like shit (Like my first supposedly real job out of college, that I was abused at for nearly a year, and only got paid $1000, that I was told I was even lucky to receive, in the first place).

   And don’t get me started on how after drawing for decades now (Ever since I was born), I’m still hardly noticed on any of my Social accounts for my art to this very day. But, you know what? That sort of thing doesn’t matter that much to me these days... especially when all the clients I have worked with up to this point, are people that I personally reach out to through emails and stuff. Granted, it took a lot of time, but I am happy to say that I have mostly (MOSTLY) grown out of my self-hating phase. Because constantly tearing myself down, especially when it comes to anything I achieve, is just not the way to go, my guys. 💦 

   ... And also, I will say that I am really lucky that I can share anything I create with a few very, very close pals, my dear friends who are always nothing but excited and supportive of me... Besides learning to hate myself less (And love myself more), I have learned that these are the people matter so much more, the people I should be tuning my hearing aid to. 

   So yeah, this goes back to one of my past posts, about being KINDER TO YOURSELF. About actually seeing and accepting that you truly are PROGRESSING, no matter how slow it may seem at times. Be prouder of yourself, GDI! Why are you spitting down on yourself, for actually putting in those attempts??? For actually TRYING? You are actually working so much harder than you realise!

   But yeah... I am still drawing, despite all of that. I am still doing what I do, because...

   I fucking love what I do, so, so much. Despite how hard it is (AND GOD IT IS HARD, DRAWING IS HARD, LOL!), despite how much I have to deal with, up to this very day. Despite how many times I have to survive on a few pennies, during some extra though periods... And this effort and perseverance has gotten me to FINALLY work with clients in time. And I hope to work with more in due time, as I continue down this path...

   Anyway, don’t stop. DON’T YOU. EVER. STOP. When it comes to doing what you love. Get back up, ALWAYS GET BACK UP, whenever those folks try to trip you over. 

   And make sure you start listening to the folks that are actually CHEERING YOU ON, including yourself. Swing all that LOVE in your heart for that thing like a pillow and smack those haters in the face with it, before continuing your way towards your goals!

#(I don't know if I should put this in my posi//tivity tag because I am mentioning a lot of depressing things I have gone through) #(But the main message is) #(If you love something very very much-- don't you ever give up) #(What you create adds more beauty to the world itself) #(So DON'T YOU EVER STOP) #(Where are people who just want to hate and laugh are honestly wasting their time-- especially if they arent even giving constructive fb) #// long post #❄️BECKOWSKY SPEAKING! ❄️ #❄️ QUEUE ❄️