#a part of me is genuinely wondering if i should check myself into a psych ward. the other parts of me say either that this isn't bad enough

[waterparksdrama]

ok track by track review of Intellectual Property. GO!

as you wish anon. be warned this is literally like one of maybe 4 times i've listened to this album in full again

st*rfucker - a bit too saccharine on first listen but it has better replay value as time goes on. the beginning of the shoehorned jesus lyrics and the continuation of limo imagery to represent fame which is actually fitting admittedly bc just like a limo that is supposed to represent glamour and celebrity living, they are just as widespread and accessible as him and aren't really that glamorous at all. also this is me saying again wow he complains a lot about fame for someone who isn't really that famous. i still hate the cutoff at the end bc. cmon man. 7/10

real super dark - ok i did like the gilbert gottfried inspired melody i think that's fun actually. the song lyrics? uhhhhhh. just more complaining. if you have listened to any of the albums since fandom you are not missing much there other than the otto serial killer jokes he has inserted here? which is a choice i guess. instrumental is great tho. i feel incredibly stupid listening to a lot of the other parts of the song tho. 7/10

funeral grey - god i can't bear listening to this one on my own i'm sorry. live it's fine, but the studio recording i would rather kill myself than listen to again. IT'S SO ANNOYING. the terrible overenunciated vocals. awsten's attempt at humor by writing these wattpad fic lyrics that make me cringe to my core because i know there's a part of him being genuine. the one direction ripoff hook because he managed to get one of 1d's actual songwriters to help write the track. the only saving grace is the ending but at that point it's too late for any redemption. 2/10

brainwashed - ironically this was written with the 1d guy again and. i'm actually fine with this one LOL. it's simple and lowkey so it's considerably less annoying than funeral grey. considering awsten said the lyrics on this album were hypersexual, but it's 2023 so this is fairly tame, it just makes me wonder how much he has repressed in his psyche. 6/10

2 best friends - ok now we're back to simple annoying. if you tune out the lyrics enough, it sounds like disney channel filler music. but it's actually about ~~sExxxx~~ hahahahaha everything about this album so far is like reading fanfics clearly written by middle schoolers. awsten's sad about his situationship so he goes out with his 2 best friends to forget but it doesn't work :( but he could just fuck his friends bc it wouldn't hurt to try at this point. hey what if this was what the song was actually about that because in travis' insane songfic he made jawn and awsten hook up during this chapter #neverforget #riptravisficeventhoughmebitchingontumblrmadehimkillit 4/10

end of the water (feel) - hearing awsten try to hit those high notes reminded me of people saying brendon straining on his high notes on the last panic tour was like hearing a dog that needed to be shot out back for its own good. this is very obviously a charlie puth ripoff to the t because not only does he hit high notes that no man should ever reach, but i'm pretty sure the verse instrumentals rip off "light switch" by charlie. anyways more of "ughhhhh i'm not getting a text backkkkkk" that makes me want to throw awsten's phone into the pacific. i still don't know why kurtis conner is here and how this is supposed to relate to any of this at all. also actually now that i'm crossing checking the genius pages for these, the descriptions for these songs make them sound much better than they actually are lol. 3/10

self-sabotage - this one is mid on it's own but funny because i remember the amount of twitter discourse this song has spawned. "awsten's being toxic and misogynistic" did we not listen to some of the songs off fandom "awsten has bpd" what if he just sucks sometimes. the memories of this are more memorable than the song itself. 5/10

ritual - remember when i found out the soundbyte at the beginning was from an aids psa. good times. fine song other than the shoehorned soundbyte. the entire song is just a repetition of the verses and chorus like a ~~ritual~~ spooky! i like the flair vincente void adds with his screams i feel like this feature makes more sense because it's a song about protecting yourself from the doctrines of religion that harmed you when you were growing up and apparently vincente has known awsten since he was 13???? only thing i hate is the corpse ripoff ending so much so that i have a personal version where i edited that out. 8/10

fuck about it - BORINGGGGGG OH MY GODD. if you've heard one blackbear feature, congrats you've heard them all because they all sound the same and blackbear adds no energy whatsoever. he made a bayside instrumental sound boring you really can't underestimate him. anyways back to the song itself; the situationship has dissolved into pure sex and disinterest and annoyance outside of that and with the way awsten sounds like he plans having hate sex, i don't think he's ever had hate sex before. there's the ending synth i think is fun and that's the only reason this gets a point at all. 1/10

closer - it's a sweet song but um. haven't we heard this in a way before? *cough cough 21 questions* i think this is the closest (lol) parx comes to at a return to pre-fandom form, but when i listen to the chords too much i'm just like "did he lowkey rip off that one smashing pumpkins song". anyways it's just about needing to be closer to someone or ending the relationship completely. simple but effective but not nearly as effective as 21 questions for me sorry. 7/10

a night out on earth - ok i had physical tickets to the last tour bc i won them on idobi so i was like "THIS SONG BETTER BE AT LEAST DECENT BC I STILL HANG UP THE TICKET WITH THIS NAME" and it was at the least. it's like. a good waterparks song, but i feel like i've heard it already? my mind goes back to see you in the future but for these i can't tell who's ripping off who more lol. yeah i feel like other than some interesting production here and there it's a rehash of shit we already heard before. shoehorned religious lyric. fake ass band guys. "i turn my agony into songs and people only like when i'm hurt". "i've been dead since 2016" (part two). "i'm evil now. idgaf. wat ever."

and then i think the part that makes me go awwww but also confuses me is the im a natural blue radio interview snippet? like why does this all tie in together now. geoff's not even here bro how is this the only release where otto's the only one namedropped when awsten hasn't even named dropped him until last album. 80% the album is about some random relationship how is this supposed to tie into all of these.

idk i feel like i've just had this on my mind when when of my mutuals made their own analysis on awsten's mindsets towards life and said how he uses fear as motivation but his perfectionism keeps him from using failure as an editor and how this song was the peak example of this; the rehash of the same ideas over and over because despite his stubbornness, despite "ultimately -not- giving in to the perception that you’re worth ‘Demonizing'", he never confronts the problem for real, just compartmentalizes the problem away and doesn't truly overcome the root of his problems. that's what i feel like manifests in this album for me to be put off by it at its core. nothing ever changes, he just finds a new situation to complain at. maybe that's also why his fans never change even as new ones come though. maybe that's why we also stay stagnant in this with him.

again i get it, he's a public figure; if he did dive too deep into this and didn't choose to generalize the lyrics for his own sake, he would probably end up incriminating himself way too much and have a hard time performing some of these songs. but i can't help but wonder. if he's truly getting over a mental obstacle like that, or keeps himself so set on the future that he ignores the problems he never solved. like he always does. like he always seems to be doomed to. anyways, 7/10 song.

all in all, it's an album that tries to reach a concept of coming to terms with your sexuality and religious trauma all entwined in fame but in reality it's mostly just about a sucky situationship and awsten complaining again while putting in random religious references sometimes and the beginning and ending are about fame. my hot takes are: tennis imagery = gay sex, there's not enough of a distinction between "soulsucker" and awsten to make "album lore" when the overarching concept of parx's discography is "awsten's life sucks", and darth vader is luke's father. - iz

[stories-by-belle]

Champagne

Just some smutty Tom Holland inspired drabble, enjoy. Bx

It was here. I thought to myself, staring into the mirror. My last ever performance as Juliet.

It'd been almost a year since I rushed across London to my audition and somehow bagged the role even after being massively late and a total unknown. This was my first big role, my first leading lady role and here I was gaining good reviews as Juliet opposite Tom Hollands Romeo.

The fact that this was Tom's essential return to the West End, his first play since doing Billy Elliot when he was just a child, and his first ever go at Shakespeare had created a huge buzz around around the play. And he'd absolutely killed it, all of London was talking about his performance.

And, somehow, I'd been lucky enough to join him for the whirlwind of press that surrounded the play every night. Sally, my agent, was thrilled, I was no longer the problematic talent on her books struggling to hold my nerves together.

———

"Alright there, Juliet?" Tom nudged me with his elbow as we both stood backstage waiting to begin, for the last time. "You're being very quiet tonight."

He was right, normally by this point of the evening I was laughing with him, psyching myself up, ready to get on stage.

"I just can't believe this is the last night." I mumbled, I was really sad that this was ending, the whole experience had been amazing, we'd all become close friends, Tom and I especially, he was infectious, his enthusiasm, his joy, it rubbed off on me daily. And I truly believed that he was making me a better actress through all this. My confidence had grown as our friendship had over the many months of working together.

"Aw, you gonna miss me?" Tom grinned playfully at me.

I was, but I wasn't about to tell him that.

"Ah, you won't be able to get rid of me that easily." He said pulling me into a hug as I rolled my eyes at him. "You'll always be my Juliet." He whispered, lingering a little bit too long at the nape of my neck before moving away to take his starting position on the stage.

———

And in the blink of an eye, our last performance was done.

Both Tom and I lay still on the stage where we'd both fallen in our death scene, as the other cast members finished the play around us.

Each night, we'd lain still, and tangled up together as lovers in each others arms for, what felt like, an excruciatingly long time.

"I'll miss this part the most." Tom whispered, barely audible even to me. I thought I was hearing things until I felt his hand subtly move to hold mine.

My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest, as I chanced a glance up at him to find him staring down at me.

Finally the curtain fell around us, and the tension between us was cut. The audience were cheering as we got to our feet & rushed to take our final bows.

———

After the usual rounds of bowing, and then congratulating each other backstage, I quietly sloped off to my dressing room while the others starting cracking open bottles of champagne.

I'd just got my costumed unzipped when Tom rushed into the room, champagne bottle in hand, soaking me as he shuck the bottle spraying it everywhere, laughing manically.

"Tom, stop! Come on! I gotta give this costume back!" I shouted through my laughter.

"Payback!" He shouted back as he proceeded in soaking me in champagne. "For that coffee you got all over me!"

"That was an accident!" I managed to move out of his way, hiding behind my dressing screen. "And besides, I thought we agreed that neither of us had been looking where we were going that day!" I giggled at him as he missed me.

He pounced behind the screen, pushing me back against the wall, threatening to pour the rest of the champagne over my head.

"Okay, okay, I give up, you win, you win!" I giggled.

We were both breathless, I was drenched and he had my hips pinned under his against the wall. Without moving away from me he took a swig of champagne before offering it to my lips.

I could feel him watching me closely as I drank from the bottle.

We'd spent a lot of time over the months being close together like this, so it didn't feel weird, there had been a tension slowly building over the months as we'd played lovers on stage & flirted playfully & unapologetically offstage.

As Tom lowered the bottle from my mouth, we both hovered in the moment, simply staring at each other, daring the other to make the first move.

I'd wondered many times if there was something more here than just flirting for Tom, but this was the first time I felt for certain there was something. In fact, I could feel something pressing into my lower stomach as we breathlessly stared at each other.

"I'm sorry." Tom gulped as he moved away trying to hide his lower body from me "That was probably quite, uh, inappropriate." The gentleman in him kicked in, suddenly embarrassed at his actions, and his, ah-hem, reaction to it all.

My heart melted for him, for all the confidence & charm he had, he was really quite shy too. This, mixed with the pure desire I felt as he held me pinned against the wall, emboldened me.

"Don't be sorry." I said simply, moving towards him. "After tonight we won't be working together, so it's not inappropriate at all." I smirked at him, as I took the bottle from him and put it down.

Before I knew it, he had one arm wrapped around my waist, another in my hair, as he pulled me into him to kiss me hard and desperately. It was the polar opposite of the kisses we had shared each night on stage, there was absolutely nothing polite about this kiss.

"You have no idea how many times I've imagined this." Tom moaned into your ear as he trailed kisses down your neck, slowly pulling your unzipped dress down your upper body, following it closely with kisses, occasionally nipping at my skin with his teeth.

As the dress reached my hips & Tom was on his knees in front of me, my entire skin tingled with lust.

He tugged the dress over my hips & let it fall to the floor, leaving me standing above him in just my underwear. His eyes traced over my entire body before mumbling "So. Fucking. Pretty." as he placed kisses along the top of my knickers, he glanced once more up at me, asking for permission to keep going. I nodded and sighed as he kissed my centre through the thin cotton, that was already soaked through, he buried his mouth into me as my hands wound their way into his hair, willing him to keep going.

As he pulled my underwear to one side & I felt his tongue flick over my clit, my knees buckled as I gasped, grabbing his shoulders to keep me from falling.

"Sensitive?" He chuckled as he let me catch my breath.

Standing back up, he kissed me again, swapping between nibbling on my lips and pushing his tongue into my mouth, all the while his fingers worked my clit. As he applied more pressure, my knees buckled again, but this time he was there to catch me, pushing me back against the wall to keep me upright, he was relentless, as he pressed harder while drawing circles around my clit, as he moved to nibble my neck, all I could do was cling to him as my orgasm hit.

He held me close, his hand still gently playing with my clit as he watched me ride out my high.

“I’ve been dying to see you like this for months.” Tom whispered, stroking my neck with one hand, and stroking my wet folds with the other.

The noise outside my dressing room door broke us out of our trance.

“We should probably go join the rest of them for the party.” Tom mumbled, glancing behind him to check the door was closed, before removing his hand from my underwear and bringing his fingers to his mouth to taste you.

You let out a moan at the loss of his touch, knowing you needed more of him.

“But…” I started, knowing that now wasn’t the time, but I just couldn’t help it, I wanted more.

“So needy.” He chuckled with a satisfied smile on his face, I sighed as I pulled his lips back to mine and rolled my hips against his, hoping to pull us both back into the trance we’d been in.

“Later, baby.” Tom moaned as his pulled away from me completely. Reaching out for my robe that was hanging on the back of my door.

As he walked back towards me, he tried to adjust his raging hard on through his trousers, eliciting a quiet groan to escape from his lips. He gritted his teeth hard as he wrapped the robe around my shoulders.

“We should get you tidied up and looking presentable again.”

———

In the dressing room, he had quietly helped me dress and waited patiently while I attempted to fix my hair and face. We didn’t talk about what had just happened, and I was desperate for him to say anything about it, I needed clarity, was that just a one off, or was there going to be a later? He stayed by my side until he was pulled away by the director as we approached the bar to order drinks.

As I watched him leave, I tried, desperately, not to over think it all. And threw myself into having a good night instead, I chatted happily to the rest of the cast and crew, and drank and danced the night away. I had assumed Tom was somewhere amongst the crowd doing the same thing.

Suddenly it was 3am, and I was exhausted. Several of the others were all starting to make their way to the exit, as the guy I had been chatting with at the bar bid me goodnight as he left, I glanced around the room for Tom. Just as I thought that maybe he’d left already, my eyes found him, was already staring me down from across the bar, practically ignoring the group of people chatting animatedly around him.

I smirked at him, I knew that look. It was the same as the look he gave me in the dressing room earlier. As I made my way over to him, slowly, hugging and saying goodnight to various people as I moved through the crowd, he never took his eyes off me.

As I got close, he excused himself from the conversation he had been ignoring and moved towards me, winding an arm around my waist and kissing me on the cheek as he started to guide me towards the exit.

“Hey you.” He whispered.

“Where’ve you been all night?” I asked genuinely wondering why he’d left my side so quickly after we got into the bar.

“Sorry, my agent hustled me away to chat with some producers about a project. Did you have a good night?”

“Yeah, very good, lots of dancing and lots of wine.” I giggled as we made it outside, he led me away from the crowd of people congregating by the doorway waiting for taxies.

“You looked like you were having a good time with that guy at the bar before, or should I say he was having a great time looking down your dress.” Tom grumbled.

“Ohh, is that a hint of jealously I can hear?” I smirked at him.

At that he spun me around, pressing me up against the wall, his hands pinning my hips, his eyes boring into mine. I could see him gritting his teeth as he stared down at me considering his next words.

“Would you mind if I were a little jealous?”

“Not at all. In fact, I really quite like it.” I smiled sweetly up at him, this seemed to relax him a bit, clearly he’d been doing more overthinking than I had tonight. I reached my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my lips as his body melted against me.

“Hey Tom?” I pulled away as he started nibbling on my earlobe.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Is is ‘later’ yet?” I asked as innocently as possible.

“So needy…” He chuckled into my neck as he peppered light kisses down and along my collarbone.

“Do you mind if I’m a little needy?” I questioned him, the same way he had me.

Tom stopped what he was doing to look at me. “Not one bit.” He smiled. “Shall we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” I grinned back at him, as he pulled me towards the nearest taxi, finally knowing we about to finish what we started after he’d dowsed me in champagne earlier.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 4

Spencer Reid x Derek Morgan

Word Count: ~1870 this chapter

Warnings: None? 

A/N: A wild subplot appears! Gang’s mostly here, so we get to the fun stuff soon. Nobody’s reading this on tumblr, really, but I still feel the need to apologize for the delay! 

Catch up here. 

Monday, January 6 - Derek

As far as first days go, it could be a lot worse. It’s still fucking exhausting. 

They send the class president to meet him in the office, in the morning — blonde-haired and blue-eyed, straight out of a Colgate ad as she shakes his hand and introduces herself as “Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.” 

Derek doesn’t fully trust girls like that, the ones who are so traditionally pretty they think they don’t have to be nice, but she’s cool enough as she shows him to his first class and gives him a brief tour, pointing out where he’ll want to go for his next class. He’s already feeling a little lost. 

People keep looking at him, and he wonders what they’re seeing. 

JJ seems to know everybody; she greets almost everyone by name as they walk, introducing Derek in passing. Most of the kids smile right back. It makes Derek reconsider his initial assessment of her; mean girls don’t usually get that sort of genuine warmth aimed in their direction. 

She invites him to eat lunch with her and her friends, but he has a meeting with Principal Strauss during lunch to talk about the student handbook, how he’s adjusting, and all the other fun shit. 

“No worries, standing invitation,” JJ tells him. 

“Tomorrow, then. It’s a date,” he replies, flashing his most charming grin. 

She smiles at that — not the flirtatious expression Derek expected, more like she’s laughing at a private joke — before waving and heading off to her own class.

The history teacher, Ms. Lewis, asks him to stand and introduce himself to the class, and to “Tell us something about yourself,” which… yeah, he saw that one coming, and he practiced it in front of the mirror last night. 

“Derek Morgan.” Not-too-bright smile; just casual enough to be cool, not cocky. “I just moved from Chicago. Psyched about the Vegas weather, not so much about the pizza.” 

He has to do the same thing at the start of every class. He’s going to be repeating it in his sleep, at this rate, and the more he says it, the more disingenuous it feels, trying to boil his identity down to one neat sentence. 

The English teacher, Blake, also asks him to say his favorite book, and Derek hesitates slightly. His instinct is to lie, say something cool and not quite as nerdy, but he catches himself and tells the truth instead. Nobody seems to care except the girl sitting next to him — dark hair, darker eyeliner — who raises a skeptical brow, like she doesn’t believe it. 

At the end of class, though, Blake pairs him with Eyeliner Girl for a project, and she gives him a begrudging smile before introducing herself: “Emily. Glad I’m not the new kid any more.” 

She scrawls her name and number on a piece of paper and slaps it down on the desk in front of him, saying something about meeting up later in the week, as she starts to pack up her stuff. Derek notices an enamel pin of a pansexual pride flag on her bag — between a Joy Division patch and a pin that says “Death Before Decaf” — but before he can figure out whether he wants to comment on that, she’s on her way out the door. 

Most of the day is just a blur of new faces and names and trying to remember where the fuck he’s going. Strauss is brusque but sharp. The place is huge, but there seem to be a lot of girls eager to show him around. People have been friendly enough; the whispers he hears are curious, instead of vicious. 

Derek feels a little bit like he’s got a spotlight on him every time he walks through the halls. At least here it’s a spotlight and not a bullseye. 

He wasn’t nervous for any of his classes, or anything, but he’s definitely nervous before practice. He’s not sure whether Coach Rossi told the team anything about why he ended up transferring mid-year. 

He’s braced for some hostility when he introduces himself to the team captain. “Hey, man, I know this has got to be weird, but—”

“Hey, apparently you can help us win some games,” the guy says, with a disarming smile. “Foyet. Glad to have you.” Derek breathes a little easier as they shake hands. 

Coach Rossi, meanwhile, isn’t like any high school coach Derek’s ever met. They’re usually big and loud and kinda aggro, but Rossi’s quieter, deadpan, well-dressed. He’s got this unimpressed expression, like he has seen some shit in his day and is not going to be bothered by any amount of macho teenage posturing. 

It feels good to be back on the court. The team’s not stellar, but fuck, it’s better than what he left behind, any day of the week. Derek’s in his element, here, and after a day of uncertainty, it’s nice to know he can still do this. By the end of practice, he seems to have won over most of the guys who seemed a little frosty at first, and that’s really fucking nice too. 

He hangs back for a minute to talk to Rossi, afterward, to thank him and just touch base. Then there’s talk of uniforms and making sure he has a locker, before the next practice, and by the time he gets showered, the rest of the team is gone.

He doesn’t mind walking back to the main building on his own. It feels like he’s been smiling and shaking hands and working so damn hard to make a decent first impression that he hasn’t been able to properly breathe all day. 

The school is mostly deserted, at this point — there are a few teachers still working at their desks, a couple students packing up. He gets a little bit turned around trying to find his locker again, wandering into an out-of-the-way section of classrooms near the auditorium before hitting a dead end. He retraces his steps and takes the right turn this time. 

Then he hears an argument around the corner, unmistakable in the relative quiet. He winces, wondering if he should announce his presence somehow, but it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing he wants to interrupt. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” a female voice is saying. “But every time I think about it… it’s terrifying. It’s easier for you, you’ve never—”

“You think this is easy?” another girl snarls. “Fuck that and fuck you. I told you, I’m not doing this. No fuckin’ way.” 

With that, heavy footsteps stomp away, echoing down the hall. 

Derek pauses for a moment, listening, but there’s no more sound; he waits a few seconds anyway before turning the corner, where one of the girls is still standing silently. 

When she whirls, startled by the sound of his footsteps, he realizes it’s JJ. 

It just takes her a blink to pull herself together at the sight of him; if he didn’t see the tears streaking down her cheeks, he’d almost believe it when she aims one of those Colgate-ad smiles in his direction. 

“You okay?” he asks hesitantly. JJ nods vigorously. 

“Totally! I think it’s allergies or something,” she insists. Right.  

“Think I’m a little turned around. How do I get out to the senior lot?” he asks her. 

“I’m heading that way, I’ll show you,” she says. As they start to walk, Derek can see her, out of the corner of his eye, wiping away tears discreetly. “How was your first day?” 

“Not bad, can’t complain,” he says, shrugging. “Pretty weird being the new kid, but… what are you gonna do, right?” 

JJ hesitates before saying, “Must be nice. Getting a fresh start, no expectations.” 

That’s not the usual line. Most people say it must be difficult, having to start over where nobody knows him; most people ask if he misses home, and they don’t consider what he’s trying to get away from. 

He doesn’t ask JJ what she wants to get away from — instead he says, “That’s what my momma keeps saying: I can be whoever I want to be.” 

“So who do you want to be, Derek Morgan?” 

“Just want to be myself,” he says, and she looks up at him with a small, sardonic smile. 

“You make it sound so easy,” she mutters. 

He laughs. “Yeah, fair enough.” 

This time, her smile seems more genuine. JJ points him in the right direction and then ducks into the women’s bathroom, with a wave and a reminder that she’ll see him for lunch. 

Derek heads toward the front door. He’s fishing around in his bag as he walks, looking for the keys to his uncle’s truck, when he walks right into somebody rushing out of the men’s bathroom. 

“Fuck, sorry, are you —” He stops dead, still with an arm out to help steady the other person, because the other person is Spencer. 

Spencer, who looks just as surprised as Derek feels. They lock eyes for a second, and Derek’s insides go on an entire fucking roller-coaster ride in one frozen moment. 

“I thought you were in college,” Derek blurts out, half-laughing, but Spencer doesn’t look even a little bit happy to see him. He’s gone pale. 

“What? No, still in fucking high school, last I checked.” His voice is bitter, and it cracks on the words. “I just take college classes sometimes.” 

“Oh.” 

“I thought you were visiting,” Spencer says, pushing his hair out of his face like he wants to be pulling it instead. 

“I am,” Derek says, stomach sinking when he realizes Spencer still isn’t smiling. “For another six months.”

Spencer’s mouth drops open, and Derek has a visceral flash of sensory memory: those pretty pink lips brushing his cheek. 

Spencer scowls. “So you’re — you go here. Fantastic.”  

Derek’s too tired to pretend the venom in Spencer’s tone doesn’t hurt. 

He snaps, “Did I do something wrong here, or did you just wake up on the bitchy side of the bed?” 

Maybe not his most mature reaction, but. It’s been a long fucking day.  

Spencer digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, for a second, and Derek can see the tension in his fingers. Then he exhales and it’s like all that twitchy furious energy drains out of him at once. He just looks exhausted. 

His voice is low and croaky as he says, “I liked that you didn’t see me the same way as everybody else does.” 

“So, what, you think that’s gonna change just cause we go to the same school now? What kinda asshole do you think I am?” 

“The kind who wears a varsity jacket,” Spencer mumbles. His eyes are huge and hurt and soft, and Derek recoils slightly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Spencer shakes his head. “Never mind. Just — trust me, okay? You’re better off pretending you don’t know me.” 

“I want to know you, though,” Derek says quietly. 

Spencer’s phone is vibrating. He looks down at it and then gives Derek one more sad little half-smile as he starts to walk away. 

“If you still feel that way by the end of the week, give me a call,” he says over his shoulder, already pushing the front door open. “But you won’t.” Before Derek can respond, he’s flipping the phone open and saying, “Hey, Mom. I’m on my way.” 

When Derek collects himself and follows him out, Spencer’s already gone. 

.

.

.

[finalfantasy7]

Letting go

Despite all the crying, all the pain, all the disappointment that came from that little bookstore, I’m still scared of letting it go. Honest to god afraid of allowing it to become a distant memory where I can barely make out most of the details.

Little did I know going in I would barely register as a real job, strictly viewing it as a seasonal gig, only to leave it with bleeding heart strings.

I remember how at first I didn’t allow myself to see it as a long term gig, not after only staying as a seasonal at a previous location (a decision that admittedly ended up being a strike against my confidence). And yet, as the holiday season came closer to ending, the more anxious I became about being kept on passed the holiday season. It only became worse as I started to bond with the team there. Everyone and everything seemed to click. I very quickly found myself in a new “comfort zone” and much like love, it’s beautiful to experience and even scarier to lose.

What I failed to realize until now, was I had personally laid down the structure of the home I now associate with that environment. Yes, my colleagues were each as warm as they were individuals; each carrying a back full of personalized arrows and hearts full of dreams and fears alike. But looking back, so many of them highlighted how their kindness was not cheap and for some, certainly wasn’t free.

I now understand what [redacted] means when she says I seem to be the “glue” between people. A substance whose sole purpose is to hold things together and tightly at that. That being said, there are few cases of universal glue. No, in fact there’s specific types of glue for specific materials. I am nowhere near being a universal glue but I seem to be a decent brand for people…or at least those who can afford to be a bit vulnerable and honest.

To this day I will rave about my former coworkers, even more so about the ones I still keep in contact with today. But I’m now starting to see that the bookstore was home to me for a bit BECAUSE I made it home. I could have come in day in and day out and never looked back but I didn’t, at the time it almost felt like I couldn’t. How could I? When a small, insecure being was being suddenly labeled with tags and titles they had never heard before.

I wasn’t “[dead name]” when I stepped through those blue doors but “Finn Acosta”. Nor longer was I this lost entity, a ball of failure, fears and anxieties. No, I was now “Finn”; an attractive, fashionable leader who always seemed to “really see” people for who they were. But even at the time these words read hollow, not because I didn’t believe the genuine sentiment behind them but simply because I didn’t see that person looking back at me in the mirror. They unfortunately went from compliments to a heavy mask I felt I needed to wear, to proudly carry and maintain lest I seek to disappoint everyone.

There was a time period when “life was good” at work. I had recently been hired and I was hungry. You wanted to teach me how to make a table? Let’s do it. Need help with overnight inventory? Something I’ve never done before? I’m game. Wanna teach me how to rearrange every decorative piece on a table? Can’t wait. I suppose this time period could accurately be labeled as “Finn was bubbly” here or at least that’s how one manager described it when discussing how much I had changed by the end of my bookstore career. Managers seem to like this time period as much as I did. I used to think I was happy here and I suppose I was and yet, looking back it all seems so Illusionary? Perhaps our image of happiness changes more throughout our lives than we’d like to admit. But here I was in a relationship which I believed at the time was perfect, was in a workplace I believed was perfect and was starting to carry a new outlook of myself I had, you guessed it, deemed as perfect.

I sometimes wonder if I had the opportunity would I go back in time and warn that version of myself about the storm that was starting to brew? No, I don’t think I would. Even with the knowledge I have now, nothing could have prepared me for what was about to unfold, not really. Plus, who am I to rip off those rose coloured glasses off my past self- she was genuinely as happy as she could have been. I feel weirdly maternal towards that person. I know they were doing their best….unfortunately their best would soon be crushed by reality, more specifically, the flaws and beauty of what it means to be human.

Now going into my second year of psyche I can confidently say reading about humans and experiencing them are very different. To read about projection and have it’s description neatly grouped in small bullet points is very different from someone angrily shutting down your greeting because they’re having a bad day. I experienced a lot of projection at work and equally threw in my own.

It’s fascinating to think I experienced both appreciation and questioning of personality all at once in the same environment. I would be commended on how understanding I could be but equally questioned on how I couldn’t view things as more black and white the same people. How could you see only grays, is what I’d heard in my mind. Where was the fire? Where was the anger? Did it mean I didn’t care? Perhaps I simply didn’t give enough thought to these topics? But that wasn’t the case at all. For months on end I would ruminate about work; everything from issues of health and safety, union processing, to the well being of my coworkers.

This was my pack and I needed to care for it as best as I could…so I did. Someone didn’t feel comfortable addressing concerns to management? I’d do it for them. Let me check in with everyone I saw to see how they were. You look tired, allow me to buy you a coffee. Let me send out feedback forms to see what people need. Remember, each and everyone one of you matters and deserves nothing but care. Oh wait, management is also made up of human beings so I should also extend all this to them. Let me do this, let me do that, I will do this, I will do that. Eventually I became a husk of the person I started off at the beginning of the year. I felt bitter and broken. To put it frankly, I was exhausted.

I’ve never broken down so much in a place of work. I would sit in the corner of the washroom and cry (not too much so we couldn’t stop but enough to get a good sob out). No one ever knew. I know because I’ve now highlighted this to a few former coworkers and they each wear the same look of surprise, sadness and empathy. But why the tears? It was just a part time job and it was…until it wasn’t. Somewhere along the way this part time job truly became something else. I went from clocking in and out, to bringing every person who worked with me home. I packed up their fears in a precious bag and wore it around, how couldn’t I? They were afraid and I was used to carrying around people’s emotions with me. I was even better at wearing a bright toothy smile that hid my own emotions.

At some point I stopped being a CER and started to be..well..I suppose glue. But remember what I said earlier about different types of glue for different materials? Well, you see- management wasn’t particularly fond of the type of glue I was, at least a majority of them didn’t seem to be. You see in the eyes of my leaders, I WAS someone who was just clocking in and out and they weren’t happy with this. You see, the company preferred the type of glue that bonded workers and the company’s “vision”. Workers that were so bonded with that vision that it became almost indistinguishable of where the person started and the sales pitch ended. They wanted you to take work home with you, just not in the way I did. Ironically, because of this I was rated as a low performer; because I didn’t care enough, when all of my peers were telling me the opposite.

But there it was, the other shoe had finally fallen and little Finn isn’t as sturdy as they seem. No, in fact, I remember running out of the performance review in tears, rushing past my coworkers as I digested being told I was a failure (another notch to add to the belt). It’s true when they say, sometimes it’s not the information itself but how it’s delivered. I felt ganged up in the review; mine being the only that required the GM to be present (more like be the one who conducted it but I digress). My mind had completely shut down as my superiors watched me shrink into myself, using the little energy I had to not break down and cry. The surrealism of them joking around about not being able to find a seat in the mall to conduct the review as my mind turned into static. They told me I had “really up days and really down days”, a sentence that may as well be a death sentence if you deal with a form of mental illness. They noticed, they noticed I wasn’t neurotypical, that I was different and not in a good way. You know what hurts the most? These two women were part of a moment of trauma for me and they didn’t even try- for them it was just another day at work. They’ll never know how I spent the next few months psychoanalyzing myself, speaking with professionals to help me find “what I did wrong?”, “why was I a failure?”.

After months of pouring every bit of energy I had towards my team I was told I wasn’t good enough. A part of me wishes I could send this letter to those women, to show them “look what you did to me”. But I feel it would give them another opportunity to dismiss me when I’m most vulnerable, a moment similar to when they glossed over my anxiety disorder, chalking it up to, “I think we’re all anxious right now”.  At the end of everything I’m more hurt than bitter. I’m not a manager, I’m not a leader but I know I would never put someone in such a situation and at the very least I can sleep at night knowing that.

To say my time at the bookstore was a learning experience would be an understatement. One day I was at cash dealing with a customer who clearly wasn’t having a good day and I decided then and there, I needed to leave. So, I finally ripped the rose coloured glasses off and decided to give my two weeks. Those two weeks were the least stressed I had been the entire year. Ironically, I had to leave the bookstore to finally take to heart the kind words that were told to me in it. I remember how I was told at my previous location how incredible it was of how many interpersonal relationships I had made in the short amount of time and it looks like here was no different….but it was. I’m now permanently leaving this company behind and realizing if this is what I can do with a few months, a year, imagine what I can do in a permanent career setting? I think I’ll be just fine; not because I’m “Finn”, not because I’m glue but because I try and maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

[retvenkos]

alright, Olive, I'm back with a weird question. (but first of all, I hope you're doing good! how awfully rude of me to not start my ask by that) because you're so good at psychoanalyzing people (and I adore your rambling thoughts), I was wondering if you could maybe help me? I've always wondered who my godly parent would be in the PJO universe - it's been the biggest mistery in my life since I was 8. I just haven't found myself in any figure of the Olympus, maybe because I'd be the child of a minor deity? I've thought about Apollo, and I genuinely like it, but idk, maybe I need a more thorough analysis. I've also gotten Iris and Hemera from other people? I just think your piercing mind could see right through me. anyway, this is weird lol, I hope you don't mind me asking this! and don't worry if you can't answer, it's totally fine. 💜

asdfgfddfgfd, when i get my two weeks off for summer break, i should just do placements for inquiring mutuals because honestly it's one of my favorite things,,,

also, before i get into it (because i have some thoughts™), i'm going to plug one quotev quiz that i think is better than the rest when it comes to these matters: this godly parent quiz.

now, clara, i am not nearly as versed in pjo cabin placements as i am in hogwarts houses, but i'm going to give this my best shot:

first, i think i would be remiss not to mention that you are a libra, and libra is associated with themis, (idk really what that means since i'm not into astrology, lol), but themis isn't mentioned as one of the gods with a cabin, so i'm disregarding that. if we are following this logic though, i think that aphrodite is also associated with libra, so perhaps you could fit into that cabin? personally, i don't see it as strongly as i see others, but you do have a hopeless romantic streak, and a strong sense of community, which could sway you in that direction.

as for apollo, i'm going to unpack that for a minute, because it's very interesting that you'd place yourself there, and i'm on the fence with that myself, lol. (this is very stream of consciousness, so let's see where this section takes us)

i definitely see the association with the arts - music and poetry - although in my mind apollo has always been the performer, and less of the creator. i always associated the muses more with the creation stages of music and poetry. like... the muses are the fashion designers and apollo is the model going down the runway. or the muses are the writers and collaborators in the writers room and apollo is the actor or director. so, while i see the association, i think it's a little weak, because you strike me as more of the quiet artist who's behind the scenes, rather than the bard singing in the pub, trying to get coins. but, you know yourself better, so maybe it's a good association.

and after that, what always strikes me about apollo is the volatile contradictions of his personality. i mean, he's associated with the sudden death of children (rightfully so, i mean he slaughtered all of niobe's sons), along with his sister, artemis, but he's also a healer. he's like that "i'm a healer, but..." meme, which is funny as hell but also a little concerning. like, in many stories he is that godly sort of intelligent strength, but also he's really volatile and has quite a temper on him. i don't really think this relates a whole lot to you, because i get the vibes that you are generally mild mannered, but when something pisses you off, you let is really simmer. i feel like you aren't one to fly off the handle - if you do, it's probably been stewing within you for a while, and whoever your anger is directed at really knows that you're upset, and they knowingly pushed you to that place. i feel like you're more of a grudge holder than hot-tempered (but girl, same).

and then, of course, we have apollo's prophecies. now, maybe this is me reading too much into your scientific mind, but i think you are concerned with the future, but also don't think too much of it is predetermined. i feel like you are more of a trailblazer than that, and might just be prone to ignoring or actively working against anything you saw in the stars, asdfghgfsdfggfdsdfggfd

oh, and, apollo just has so many unfortunate romances, and on one hand, i have you quoted that you are more of an eponine than a cosette, but also, no hate to apollo and his tragic affairs, but he's openly mocked eros, and that truly gives off the vibes of working off of one (1) braincell, and you are too good for that, clara.

and just going back to personality, i think you have a lot of flexibility that just doesn't fit with the apollo cabin.

tldr; kinda but no?

now, i'm gonna kinda hop back into possible theories.

one of my gut reactions was the say athena, but after thinking about it, i'm still a little unconvinced. you have the intellect and pride for this cabin, and i feel like you would get roped into helping a lot of heroes like athena, but you also just have a charm to you that athena lacks. part of athena is that she's unapproachable and her pride is excessive. you, again, are too flexible to be athena. she's staunch where you are willing, and i feel like the rigidity of her nature is too constricting for you. it's very similar as to why i didn't place you in ravenclaw.

i also considered nike because of your competitive streak, but this placement kind of takes away from the underdog vibes i get from you. the righteous fury... the glee in the moment... it's definitely there, but i feel like there's a level of unsurety to your psyche that you don't really get with nike.

which leads me to my final analysis, where i think you would do well as a child of tyche.

let me go through this. so, i mentioned your competitive streak with nike, and that is 1000% evident in tyche. tyche is all about luck and fortune, and i feel like competition is a shoe in. children of tyche like to dabble with the unknown or the novel - it makes life interesting. they like to go against another and see where the cards fall, and if lady luck isn't on their side.... well, tonight's just not their night. they have a secure base to fall back on, and that allows them to stretch their wings and fly.

furthermore, with nike, victory is expected and guaranteed. luck is far more fluid and unpredictable - it's harder to pin down. you can have a lot of luck and a lot of things working in your favor, but still, the desired end result isn't set in stone - it's likely to happen, but there's always risk. this risk leaves for an air of quiet self-assuredness that isn't overbearing. there's always uncertainty in the mix, and that leads to less overt confidence. it also adds to the thrill (or the anxiety).

plus, i think that the gap between fortune and certainty (a pitfall of risk) leads to a lot of checks and balances that i really see in you. there's a lot of clear headed logic that gets weighed against ambition and desire, and it makes for a kind of pragmatism that doesn't stomp out dreams, just looks at them realistically.

which means i feel like a lot of people ask you for advice, clara. it also makes you a decision maker for sure. you might falter for a moment, but in the end, you make a choice and you live with it.

also, i have a personal headcanon that children of tyche are really well rounded, which harks back to my gryffindor analysis of you, where i mention that you have many tools in your box. you are able to manipulate many different things, and you can look at them from many angles, and i love that for you.

i also think this is a good placement for you because luck is all about what-ifs. it's about actively manipulating the world around you. like i said when i mentioned apollo's prophecies - i don't think that you do very well with the predetermined. some things, certainly, but one (1) you are too stubborn to believe you can't change things (oh, the contradictions of a gryffindor and child of tyche), and there's also a level of desperation that things won't always be like this. luck can come to anyone in any place. this is definitely tied to your bleeding heart - you care for people who have fallen on hard times, and you can't help but pray that it's only temporary.

oh, and i headcanon that tyche holds grudges sO BAD. she is only outdone by nemesis and hades.

anyway, this was long and it winded, but TLDR; i hereby herald you a child of tyche. you are my lady luck, clara.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

More Than a Melody

Warnings: None

Pairing: Amateur musician!Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you guys for following! I wanted to try out the idea of an au for my next fic, and an au I really really love is amateur musician!harry who plays in bars and writes his own music in a little one bedroom apartment so that’s basically what this is. This first part is more of an introduction, but if you guys like it, I’ll write more!  Please let me know what you think, and if you want more!

{masterlist}

If it were up to you, you would’ve been staying in that night.

“Except it’s not up to you, Y/N.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, rooting through your bedroom closet and tossing clothes onto your bed.  Or, more precisely, onto you.

“It should be.” You rolled your eyes back at her, pushing the clothes off of yourself. “I have a psych test tomorrow, and—”

“And it’s just going for drinks at a pub!” Charlotte sighed in exasperation. “It’s not a huge deal. You can spare one evening out!”

“If it’s just drinks…” You flipped a page in your notebook. “Then why are you tearing through my closet?”

“Because you don’t seem to own anything that doesn’t say ‘I only leave my flat for uni and grocery shopping’.” She said flatly. “Seriously, I know you have going out clothes.  Are you hiding them from me?”

“I can’t hide anything from you, you’re the world’s most intrusive roommate.” You muttered, getting off your bed to open a drawer in your dresser. “Here.  Check here.  And I do only leave the apartment for class and groceries.”

Charlotte bumped your hip with hers to get you out of the way, and continued her assault on your wardrobe. “I know.  What a boring life.”

“Don’t be rude.” You chastised her, picking up the clothes on your bed and placing them back on the hangers she’d pried them from. “You’re trying to get on my good side, remember?”

Charlotte tossed another tank top at you. “I’m trying to help you!  When was the last time you went out for drinks?”

“I don’t remember.” You shrugged. “But it probably wasn’t the night before a test!”

“You need to relax. Have a bit of fun.” Charlotte said firmly, throwing another top at you. “Let your hair down.  Take off your bra.  Get on the bar and dance.”

“I’m not really a ‘dancing on the bar’ kind of girl.” You said flatly, returning to your seat on the bed. “Besides, I thought this was supposed to be casual drinks with friends? Why would I be dancing on a bar?”

“You never know when you’ll need to dance on a bar.  It’s not the type of thing you plan.”

“My apologies.  I have limited experience with the subject.”

“You’re forgiven. We’ll change that another night.” Charlotte pulled out an off the shoulder top with a triumphant grin on her face. “Tonight, you’re going to put on that shirt and your dark blue jeans and those little heeled boots that, by the way, I need to borrow for a date next week, and you’re going to go out for drinks and have fun!”

You groaned, taking the top from her. “Why is tonight so important?”

“Because you’re stressed and need to relax.” Charlotte paused. “And because there’s this guy coming out that I want you to meet.”

Your expression grew colder. “Charlotte—”

“I know—”

“I told you I’m not ready to date again!”

“I know!” Her voice turned pleading. “But Y/N, I promise, Jack is a really nice guy!  He’s nothing like Parker—”

“That doesn’t matter.” You looked down at the shirt in your hands. “I’m not—I can’t—”

Charlotte sat down next to you on your bed, wrapping an arm around you “Parker was a cheating asshole. A liar.  He didn’t deserve you.” She said softly. “But you can’t shut yourself in forever because of what he did.  Come out tonight, just for a bit.  If you’re not enjoying yourself, we’ll come home.  I promise.”

You sighed, but you nodded, agreeing to what Charlotte said.  That was how, less than two hours later, you found yourself in the outfit she chose, nursing a cocktail at a table in a crowded pub.  Charlotte did her best to include you in conversation, but because everyone at the table were her school friends, you found it easiest to sit back and listen to the conversation instead of adding to it.  Although, truth be told, you were only half listening to the conversation, which is why you had to ask Jack to repeat his question when he spoke to you.

“What was that, sorry?”

“I asked where you’re from, and how you met Charlotte.” Jack smiled at you, taking a sip of his beer.

“I’m from America, but I’m in London for school.” You answered. “I met Charlotte during our freshman year.  We were roommates.  Still are, actually, except now we rent an apartment a few blocks from campus instead of sharing a tiny dorm.”

“That’s wonderful.” Jack replied, his hand moving closer to your arm. “And you like London, then?”

You could tell Jack was flirting.  It was obvious in his body language, his tone of voice, and how he found every uninteresting thing you said absolutely fascinating.  He was an attractive guy, and you were flattered, but you couldn’t reciprocate the flirtation, so you tried your best to shoot for friendly. “London is amazing.  I really love it here.”

Your side conversation continued for a few minutes as Jack asked more questions about you.  There were a few moments when you could sense Charlotte’s eyes on you, watching the two of you interact.  You did your best not to focus on it, and ignored her prying questions when Jack got up to buy the table another round.

“He likes you, Y/N! You should give him your number!” Charlotte insisted.

You shook your head. “Nope. He’s nice, Char, but I’m not looking to date anyone.  In fact…” You checked your watch. “I should get home.  I have more studying to do—”

“What?  You can’t leave yet!” She shook her head. “You haven’t even heard the musicians!”

“Musicians?” You asked in confusion.

Charlotte nodded. “There’s live music here every week, and some of the musicians are really good!”

“Maybe another time, Charlotte.” You smiled apologetically and grabbed your bag as you stood up.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice you didn’t recognize rang through the bar through the speakers around you.

You turned your attention to the stage.  The voice seemed to belong to the man standing at the microphone, his eyes on you. He had curly brown hair that was pushed back from his face, with a single curl still hanging down on his forehead. He was grinning, dimples visible from where you stood, and his eyes reflected the mirth apparent on his face. He was wearing high waisted slacks and a t-shirt, the logo faded to the point where you couldn’t read it.

You flushed when you caught his eye, hurrying to grab your jacket and leave the bar.

“You didn’t answer the question, love.” His voice was amused, laughter apparent in his tone. “People usually wait until I’m halfway through my set to grab their stuff and leave. Are you already bored?”

He kept his eyes on you like he was waiting for an answer.  Your friends were staring at you too, as well as everyone in the bar.

“I…” You cleared your throat, more heat rising to your cheeks. “I have to go.”

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow. It was clear to you that he was enjoying this exchange. “Where do you have to be at 11PM on a Thursday night, besides in this pub?”

“She has a test tomorrow!” Charlotte called towards the stage.  It was clear to you that she was enjoying this, too.  

“A test?” He smirked a bit. “You’re already out and a few drinks in.  It’s too late to study for a test.  The best thing you can do is sit back down, grab another pint, and listen to some music.”

“What’s happening?” You heard Jack whisper to Charlotte as he came back to the table with the drinks.

The man’s eyes looked over Jack, something changing in them, but his tone stayed the same when he addressed you again. “See?  You’ve got another round.  Stay, please. Enjoy the music.”

Charlotte tugged on your arm, pulling you back down to your seat.  You felt your face burn again as the man smiled.

“There we go! Alright, now that that’s all sorted out…” He walked over to the corner of the stage and grabbed a guitar from its stand, slipping it over his shoulder. “Nice to see you all again. M’name’s Harry, and I’ve been given the wonderful opportunity to play for you tonight.  Is everybody doing well?  Nowhere else they need to be?”

The customers of the pub clapped, a few people calling out answers in response.  Harry’s eyes flickered to you one more time before he continued to introduce the first song of his set.

Conversation at your table began to carry on, quieter than before, but you still didn’t participate. This time, however, it was because you were watching Harry sing.  Your attentiveness, while partially due to his talent, was caused by your embarrassment at being called out.  You felt the least you could do was pay attention.

By the time Harry finished his set an hour later, the number of people at your table had dwindled. Almost everyone was gone, except for Charlotte, Jack, and you.  Once Harry finished his last song, however, Charlotte stood up.

“Alright, I’ve got to get going.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. “See you later, Y/N.  And Jack, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“If you’re going, I should go too.” You said, beginning to stand.

Charlotte shook her head. “No, you and Jack still have half your drinks to finish.  I’ll just call a cab for myself.  Jack—” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Make sure she gets home safe, alright?”

“Of course.”

And then you and Jack were alone.  This was, you suspected, all part of Charlotte’s plan, as she had a mischievous glint in her eye when she walked away.  Her absence left a silence between the two of you.

Jack took a sip of his drink. “I’ve just got to run to the men’s room.  Will you be alright on your own for a few moments?”

You nodded, sensing genuine concern in his voice. “I’ll be fine.  Go ahead.”

You nursed your drink while Jack was gone, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly to pass the time. Part of you considered just leaving while he was gone to avoid the weird pseudo date you’d been left on, but it seemed rude.

“So.” A now familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You stayed, then.  And all your friends left.”

You looked up to see Harry standing over you, a charming smile on his face.  Heat rose to your cheeks again, the embarrassment from earlier still fresh in your mind.

“I did.  And they did.” You nodded. “You were really good, by the way.  Your cover of Landslide was amazing.”

“Thanks.” Harry’s smile grew bigger, but then turned sheepish. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you earlier.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, it—it’s fine.” You tripped over your words. “I’m glad I stayed.  It was nice.  And who needs to pass every test in their classes, anyways?”

Harry laughed. “Exactly. But still…could I buy you a drink, maybe?  To make up for it?”

“Oh, I don’t—I should really be getting going, actually.” You said apologetically. “I’m just waiting for—”

“Hey, Y/N.” Jack returned from the washroom right on queue, one hand going to the back of your chair while the other grabbed his beer from the table. “Hey, Harry, right?” Jack smiled. “You put on a good show, mate.  We really enjoyed it.”

“Thanks, mate.” Harry’s eyes flickered between the two of you. “I’m glad to hear it.” He turned his attention back to you, his tone growing bolder. “So you’re heading out, then? I can’t convince you to stay for another drink?”

“Thank you, but no.  I do have to get going.” You stood up, glancing at Jack as he watched the interaction between you and Harry with guarded eyes. “It was nice to meet you, Jack.  And you too, Harry.  I’ll…see you both around sometime.”

“Wait, Y/N, let me walk you home.” Jack grabbed his jacket, but you shook your head.

“No, you still have half a beer left.  I’ll just call a cab.” You slipped your own jacket on. “Thank you, though.  I’ll see you around.”

You turned around before he could stop you, quickly making your way to the door.  You shivered once the cold outdoor air hit you, your eyes scanning the streets for a cab.

“Y/N!”

You turned around, surprised to see Harry outside in just his t-shirt.

“Harry, it’s freezing!” You exclaimed. “Go back inside!”

“Can’t.” He said with a shrug.

You sighed. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here.” He said simply, pulling a pen from his back pocket. “And you’re about to leave, so—” He grabbed your hand, scribbling a phone number onto the back of it. “Here.  Call me.”

“What?” You tried your best not to focus on how warm his fingers were on your hand. “You don’t even know me.”

“That’s why I’m giving you my number.” He chuckled. “So we can get to know each other.”

“But—”

A cab pulled up to the curb, and Harry reached down, opening the door for you. “Here.  Get home safe, love.”

Confused at the turn of events, you climbed into the cab, and Harry shut the door behind you.  

“Where to, miss?” The cabbie asked, and you muttered your address to him.

When you glanced through the back window as the cab pulled away from the curb, Harry was gone.

(part ii)

[blogging-time]

Mealybugs

Send me a random word and I will attempt to write a Hurt/Comfort Fic containing/based on it. My Fic Masterlist

Word: Sick - Submitted by @3amthebitchinghour! 

Summary: Roman couldn’t deny the fact that he’d found Patton’s seemingly unjustified concern to be somewhat endearing at first... but now things were quickly getting out of hand...

If only Roman had known why Patton felt so protective over him, it could have saved the pair oh-so much heartache. 

Warnings: Mild illness/fever. Very brief Remus mention.

Pairings: Platonic Royality. (Can be interpreted as romantic.)

Word Count: 3,595

~ ~ ~

Roman couldn’t deny the fact that he’d found Patton’s seemingly unjustified concern to be somewhat endearing at first. Despite his well-sown fear of appearing both feeble and childish, there was just something about the dad Side’s ever-blossoming kindness that chipped away at the prince’s protective thorns until he was nothing more than a delicate collection of crimson rose petals in the botanist’s careful hands.

Perhaps to Patton, Roman was little more than a single clipped rose, powerless to fight off the tender love and care that he had deemed the prince beautiful enough to be deserving of. Still, Roman had enjoyed every last moment he’d spent simply being a part of his friend’s heavenly garden. Every day he’d let his roots embed themselves further and further into the soil until there was seemingly no moving him, and every day his friend would come by to perform his routine check-up.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you flourishing, kiddo!” his friend would chirp with a carefree smile.

But even the most attentive of botanists will one day see their flowers wilt. Even the most well-tended gardens can become victims of disease. And when this happens, perhaps one of the worst things you can possibly do for an already suffering rose is overwater it.

In the beginning, the whole thing had seemed as innocent as a timid field mouse cautiously poking its head up to greet the cold evening breeze. True, you typically wouldn’t want to see any type of rodent rummaging around in your garden, but there had just been something so careful and genuine in Patton’s eyes that had made the man seem far sweeter than any succulent berry he could possibly steal away.

Besides, Patton had been Roman’s faithful botanist, not some common thief. The prince knew there was nothing in this world that his friend would intentionally deprive him of. However, the intention doesn’t always match the outcome, and one simple observation was all it took to set off a rather unfortunate series of events.

~ ~ ~

“Oh, kiddo… you’re sick,” Patton had commented, concern dripping from his voice like melted ice-cream.

“Oh, Padre, you’re too kind,” Roman had joked back, hoping against all odds that he could bury the dad Side’s concern with his quick wit.

But Patton’s heart was not so easily satisfied.

“What in Thomas’ name do you think you’re doing out of bed? You should be resting.”

The prince sighed before answering, “It’s just a passing cold, Patty-cakes. There’s no need for you to be getting your buns in such a twist.”

“You leave my buns out of this, little mister,” Patton countered, taking a step forward and gently placing his hand on the ill man’s already damp forehead.

Looking back, perhaps the moment Roman instinctively let himself melt into the touch of the moral Side’s cool hand was the moment he’d sealed his fate.

The botanist’s persistent supervision began not long after that.

~ ~ ~

It had all started with a humble offering of chicken soup.

“Now you just lie here, Roman, and I’ll serve you up one of my very own Patton-patented pawsitively palatable poultry plates in just one moment!”

“Now look who’s paid a visit to the alliteration station!”

Then came the many cutesy looking coffee mugs, almost all of which contained some different variation of Healthline’s ‘Top 10 Healthiest Herbal Teas You Just Have to Try!’

“As the wise Uncle Iroh once said: Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights!”

“Padre… we’ve known each other for almost thirty years.”

“And yet this dashing prince simply never fails to fascinate me!”

And who could forget all of those simple yet tedious everyday tasks that Patton had offered to fulfil in Roman’s steed?

“Oh, most sweet and noble knight of mine… are you absolutely certain that this quest I have assigned to you won’t prove itself far too time-consuming or demanding?”

The moral Side chuckled faintly at that.

“My liege, I can assure you there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see to it that Master Thomas gets his chance to rehearse this afternoon, and that the last of the required props are picked up from Ye Olde Hobby Lobby in plenty of time for supper!”

“You have my eternal gratitude.”

“And you, my tissues.”

One could easily argue that the feverish prince had been entirely too willing to comply with the botanist’s generous wishes during those first two days, but how was he to know just how overbearing his friend would become over the course of the next seventy-two hours?

It had all started with Patton’s refusal to let Roman prepare his own toast.

“It’s just a simple slice of toast, Doctor Ramsay,” Roman bantered, “And if it’s any consolation I’ll promise not to cut the bread with my sword this time – Prince’s Honour!”

“Kiddo, you shouldn’t be handling food at all while you’re not well; that’s how you end up spreading germs.”

“To whom? Myself?”

“You never know, Roman. Please… just leave all of the cooking to me for now. I can have everything done within five minutes.”

Then came the many unnecessary yet incessant visits to Roman’s room that Patton would make throughout the day.

“Knock, knock!”

“Oh, I wonder who could possibly be there?” Roman drawled.

Patton giggled weakly at that.

“Just your happy-chappy pappy checking up on someone sappy!”

“Somehow I don’t think I’m the sappy one here, Patton.”

And how could Roman ever overlook the fact that he’d practically been put on strict bedrest for multiple days when there were so many other things he’d rather be doing to elevate his growing boredom?

“Listen, nurse… I understand you’re just trying to look out for me, but I can’t see any good reason as to why I shouldn’t be allowed to go and play ‘Mario Kart’ with the court jester. I feel like I’ve done nothing these past few days, and besides, my temperature barely even meets the criteria for a fever anymore.”

“First of all, we’ve already spoken about you referring to Virgil as the ‘court jester.’ Second of all, the reason your health has been improving is because you’ve taken the time to do nothing. Thirdly, Roman you’re far too competitive to be playing videogames right now. You’ll just end up psyching yourself up too much and making your headache so much worse.”

The prince had done his best to tolerate this sort of treatment for five whole days before allowing himself to finally admit the obvious: Patton wasn’t his knight in shining armour; he was the dragon-witch responsible for keeping him locked up in a tower.

He knew confrontation was inevitable if he wanted to see the outside world again anytime soon - Too long now had he been kept inside of a restrictive vase as opposed to an open flowerbed. Still, going into the discussion, Roman had downright dreaded dealing with the resistance he would surely be met with from his fellow Side. Of course, he knew the moral Side would never be mad at him for standing his ground, but if he didn’t want his friend to worry then he felt he’d still have to prepare a solid rebuttal.

The creative Side had braced himself for his moral counterpart’s troubling frown. He’d fully anticipated his friend’s most frequently recycled justifications and prepared what he considered to be an adequate counterargument for each. Heck, the prince had even taken the liberty of preparing an evidence casefile should the dad Side ever demand to see proof of his ongoing recovery.

“Behold! The piece of evidence that clearly contradicts the witness’ testimony!” Roman rehearsed, finger pointing rather dramatically at his bedroom mirror, “If you take a good look at this thermometer, you’ll see that my temperature read as 98.6F this morning. Mr Sanders, you claimed I couldn’t leave the room for as long as I have a fever, but this device clearly shows I now have a perfectly normal body temperature!”

Undoubtedly Roman had done enough preparation to ensure that even a man as tight-lipped as Logan couldn’t help but feel proud of his work. If only history had been kind enough to repeat itself, then perhaps the creative Side could have even found himself standing in the middle of another ‘Sherlock Holmes Fan-Fic’ type situation.

However, there had been one rather unfortunate series of developments that the prince had not fully fortified himself for – one that had proven itself to be far more regrettable than unlikely, and one that the prince would have no choice but to embrace as he failed to sway the conversation back in his favour.

For within mere minutes of opening his carefully planned, well-constructed and adequately researched argument, both the poor over-watered wilting rose, and his apparently not-so-attentive botanist had completely abandoned their cool demeanours in exchange for a far more contentious persona.

“Roman, please, just be reasonable,” the dad Side pleaded, arms outstretched in a halting motion as he took yet another step back towards Roman’s doorway.

“Oh, my stars!” the aforementioned Side proclaimed incredulously, “Do my ears deceive me? Or is that truly ‘The Hypocrite of the West Coast’ sincerely asking me to be more reasonable?”

Had the man standing before the prince been anyone but his favourite fatherly figure, then surely he would have pressed him on the long sigh he just let out.

“Kiddo, I understand why you’re upset, but you know I’d never try to deter you like this if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary. I hate seeing you cooped up in here just as much as you do!”

“Then why won’t you set me free?”

“Because I believe-”

“Oh yes, because you believe it’s the right thing to do, don’t you? That’s always what it seems to come down to at the end of the day! Everything in the entire Thomas-sphere has to revolve around what Morality thinks is right and wrong! Honestly, what have the rest of us ever done to deserve a seat at the table?”

The moral Side’s entire body seemed to tense at that, his breath hitching as though he were trying to force some unsavoury words back down his own agitated throat. Tears were now threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, yet his gaze remained almost perfectly fixed.

“Roman…”

“No! I don’t want to hear it, Pat! I’m sick and tired of listening to what you have to say!”

“You’re sick and tired, full stop, Roman! Please, you should really just go back to bed while I-”

“While you do what, Patton? Are you planning on tucking me back into bed again? Perhaps you could infantilise me even further by reading me another bedtime story, or- Oh! I know! Why don’t you go and prepare me yet another bowl of your infamous chicken soup? I’m not sure the first couple-hundred bowls have made me entirely anti-poultry yet!”

Undoubtedly, hunched up shoulders and pointedly narrowed eyes weren’t a particularly good look on the usually oh-so-cheery dad Side, but he simply couldn’t help the fact that his composure was shrivelling up so fast.

“If you really want to get me out of your hair so badly, then why won’t you just let me take care of you? The sooner I can get you healthy again, the sooner I can leave you to your own devices!”

“Because it’s not your job to take care of me, padre!” the prince snapped back, this time sounding utterly exasperated. “I’m not some delicate little flower that you should feel obligated to attend to! You’re not my designated botanist! You… You know what you are? What you really are, Pat? You’re just some aggravating little mealybug that’s latched onto my leaves that now adamantly refuses to let go! You’re sucking the life out of me, Pat, and it’s causing me to wilt! How on Earth do you expect me to stand it?”

With those words, the last of the moral Side’s composure finally slipped away.

“I don’t know, Roman! How do you expect me to cope with losing Creativity again?”

The words had come barrelling out of his mouth before he could even think to stop himself, and the tears don’t fall too far behind.

The room fell completely silent in an instant, bar the sound of the dad Side’s sombre hiccups.

Try as Patton might, he genuinely couldn’t help the feeling that he was being cruelly suffocated and torn apart from the inside. It felt as though someone had forced him to swallow an entire packet of dandelion seeds, and now the unwelcome plant was blooming, stems sprouting painfully from the pit of his stomach before forcing its way up through his throat, and finally bursting out dramatically from his silently screaming mouth. It seemed that no matter how hard the botanist had tried to suppress this unruly weed, the truth was always destined to come to light in some horrific way.

“Patton…?” Roman hesitantly asked, his previous shouting voice having been replaced by an almost-whisper.

The man in question only let a single choked sob escape before continuing to speak…

“…He was just like you, you know…” he blurted out, voice sounding unnaturally strained from trying to suppress his own emotions. His eyes were now utterly transfixed on the floor, almost as if he were willing it to magically open up and swallow him whole.

The prince audibly gulped as he mentally prepared himself for the question he’d inevitably have to ask, regardless of whether or not he already knew the answer.

“Who was, Pat?”

Another choked sob escaped; this time followed by a long, shaky, uneven breath. The question seemed to hang in the air far too uncomfortably for far too long as one Side watched the other pathetically curl in on himself.

“The King,” Patton eventually rasped out, words slicing through the tension in the air so swiftly and so grotesquely they almost seemed to mimic the actions of a rusty lawn mower blade.

Roman could practically hear the machine whirring around inside his head.

“He told us all it was just a cold – That he’d be perfectly fine if we just left him alone for a few hours…”

“Patton…”

“He told us all to just go out and play… He promised us he’d come and join us as soon as he was feeling better… At the time none of us even realised that would be our last chance to run around in the garden together… Our last chance to marvel at the early Spring flowers together… Our last chance to weave intricate little flower crowns together with the King… and so we missed it… We missed our final chance to say ‘goodbye’ and then he was just… gone…”

As the well finally overflooded, allowing for two long streams to suddenly pour down the older Side’s fiercely flushed face, the young prince swore he could feel his own still beating heart immediately split in two.

“Patton,” he tried again, “Surely you don’t blame yourself for any of that. I highly doubt there’s anything you could have done to prevent such a fate from befalling the old Creativity – and even if there had have been, you couldn’t have possibly known any better!”

“I could have been by his side!” Patton snapped back, punctuating his words by gripping his upper arms even tighter. “I knew one of my friends was sick and I did nothing to help him! Worse than that, Roman, I left him alone to play hopscotch.”

“Darling, it’s not your fault for having such faith in an old friend. He was the one who told you to give him some space! You were only doing what was asked of you!”

A sudden wave of realisation swiftly struck down the prince’s confidence the moment he heard those words aloud.

“Oh, my dear little heart…” he cooed as he watched his shaking friend visibly shrink. “I’m so sorry, Pat… I didn’t mean to-”

“No… No, you don’t have anything to apologise for…” Patton sniffled as he tried to stand up properly. “I… I understand I may have been a bit… overbearing these past few days, but I…” He was getting choked up again. “I… I just couldn’t risk losing Creativity again… I couldn’t risk losing you. I love you so much, kiddo, and I genuinely don’t know what I would do if I ever-”

Roman decided to silence that oncoming tangent by abruptly pulling his spiralling friend into a warm embrace. Perhaps the experience would have been a little more pleasant had his own body not decided to start trembling mere moments ago, but none of that seemed to matter as the dad Side slowly melted into his soothing touch.

“Do you want me to let you in on a special little secret, padre?”

The dad Side merely nodded his response into the crook of the prince’s neck, causing the slightly calmer man to let out a faint chuckle.

“The truth is… when I first appeared here in the mindscape, I really didn’t know much at all about… well… anything! Sure, I had a decent enough hold on what sort of things inspired Thomas, what stories he wanted to tell and how he wanted to go about telling them… but when it came to Thomas’ internal ‘Breakfast Club’ I was almost completely at a loss! By all accounts your quizzical looks should have made me feel like a Roman gladiator thrown haphazardly into a colosseum without so much as a broken stick to defend myself!”

“I’m sorry if any of us startled you…” came a muffled response.

“But that’s the thing, Pat,” Roman recounted with a kind smile, “None of you ever did… In fact, from the very first moment I ever laid my dazzling eyes upon all of your startled yet adorable – if not slightly nerdy – faces, I honestly never felt anything but… safe, secure… welcome, even! Now I know that may not make much sense at first given how little I actually knew you all at the time, but I happen to have my own little working theory as to why I felt that way. Would you like me to share it with you?”    

That question was apparently enough to make the dad Side look up from where he had been nuzzling his tear-soaked face into his friend’s now admittedly rather damp shoulder. The sight of his puffy eyes alone was enough to make Roman want to tear off his own crimson rose petals and use them as an overly extravagant tissue on the botanist’s grief-stricken visage.

Alas, a small piece of his velvety sash would have to suffice for now.

“Please,” Patton tentatively begged as the prince carefully wiped away at his cheeks.

“I reckon it’s because the Creativity you once knew never truly left. Even if I didn’t maintain the vast majority of his memories, I vehemently believe that all of those otherwise inexplicable feelings were the by-product of him having once loved all of you. He never felt betrayed… He never felt lonely… He never felt as though you let him down, padre, because it’s abundantly clear didn’t.”

“But how can you be so sure his feelings never changed?”

“I don’t know, my own little Patton-ted Piglet… How can you be so sure they ever did?”

Something in the moral Side’s expression seemed to change in that moment… Something subtle yet unmistakable that let Roman know he’d finally gotten through to the man.

It was only a matter of time before a contented smile had taken place on both of their blushing faces.

“I suppose I never really thought of it that way…” Patton sheepishly admitted.

“Yet you’d dare to entertain the thought that your dashing prince would ever leave you?”

The creative Side had fully intended for his sentiment to come across as light-hearted. Rather unfortunately for him, it appeared his words only served to make the dad Side feel more guilty.  

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you like that earlier, kiddo… and I’m sorry if my paranoia ever made me act unfairly towards you… I guess I just let my parental instincts get the better of me sometimes…”

“I’ll consider it all water under the bridge so long as you promise not to tell Teach I had to take a leaf out of his book today,” Roman joked, earning a stifled burst of heartfelt giggling from his now slightly more chipper and upbeat friend.

When the laughter eventually subsided, the dad Side decided to take a step back and get a better look at Roman, consequently breaking the embrace as he did so.

“I can’t tell if you acting all logical is supposed to be a sign that your health is improving or deteriorating,” he playfully teased.

“Well whichever one of the two it is, I just hope all of this exposure you’ve had to my sorry-self over these past few days hasn’t been enough to infect you.”

“Oh, Roman, I hate to tell you this, but I was already sick,” Patton merrily admitted after only a brief pause.

“What?” the prince dramatically exclaimed, voice suddenly sounding perturbed. “Oh, padre… Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? We need to get you tucked into bed with some medicine and a bowl of chicken soup right away!”

Although Morality had tried to contain their mildly inappropriate giggling, he simply couldn’t help but be amused by the irony behind Creativity’s words.

“I’m afraid there won’t be any need for that,” he giddily reassured, “After all, doctors say there’s still no known cure for love-sickness!”

~ ~ ~

General Tag-List:

@lunamay2006, @not-so-innocent-bi-sander, @saphael-malec102, @anastasialestina

Note: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted a fic, so this tag-list may be a little outdated. If at any point you want to be added/removed from my tag-list then feel free to let me know!

Secondary Note: I may come back and edit the ending a little at a later date. This fic had been sitting in my WIP’s for far too long, so I’m worried it may have come across as rushed due to the fact I really wanted it to be completed.

As always, feedback is much appreciated! I was very out of practice and sleep-deprived here, so I’m sure I’d benefit a lot from constructive criticism! I hope you’re all having a fan-der-tastic day!

[gxymlky]

Amiya in Bedivere’s interlude

I recently played his interlude again and again because it’s so sweet, this boy deserves the world. Also, in his interlude, he self-depreciate himself so I wanna insert myself that he isn’t like this.

(yeah, i tried but you get the idea) and the B-team is mentioned but not really the spotlight

Interlude began when Amiya was in her room busy with some paper works and was watching videos on her laptop when Bedivere entered greeting her, “Good morning, Amiya. What do you have planned today?” Amiya looked at him, kinda perplexed, “I was busy, but I might need a break” she replied, “then I shall accompany you, no matter your destination”

“Hmm. Maybe some place where I can breath a fresh air”

“Rayshifting? Perhaps training in the simulator?”

“I have done that with Rhion and Chiyo the other day, thank you Bedivere” Amiya acknowledged, her eyes still on the computer, listening to a video commentary of some memes, which she does while doing her paperwork whilst knowing she will add words from the video if she wasn’t paying extreme attention.

“Well, I am here on behalf of Miss Mash today---”

“Oh, it’s fine, I appreciate her looking after not only me but also everyone else.” she understood as she shifted a bit and faced him, “so..”

“I will try my very best to aid you then” Amiya smiled and muttered a thank you before shifting her position to stand up and stretch herself after hours of sitting down and crouching, facing the screen and the notes.

“Now that you mention it---” she forgot her medical check, Amiya remembered how her welfare is tied with her thaumaturgy, the more she draws from it, the more she feels sluggish or even collapse from a single blast from her staff she delivered, even Rhion mentioned she has to be careful or equip herself with a Mystic Code to not fall back.

Bedivere explains she was having her medical check and has to remain in the exam room all day.

“Medical checks are important, Amiya, you’re aware that Chaldea is isolated from the rest of the world,” he continued, “and is located in an extreme environment”

“I know, I know...” her words trailed as she let out a long sigh, arching her neck up.

“Our bodies and minds are under incredible pressure, we must always be aware of this, understand, Amiya”

“Yeah... you sound like my mother” she chuckled but he continued on despite her comment.

“and because you have exceptional talent, I don’t want you to crack under pressure especially if you have a frail body”.

“So please take care of yourself as the flames we are facing and the cold, uncaring environment surrounding Chaldea are quite different in nature and said to be exceptionally difficult.”

“That’s the challenge we are facing right now, Me, you, the staff here” she shrugged, “as someone who intended to be an intern now is tangled with these threads, I have slight mixed feelings” Amiya stated.

“And as such, frequent checkups are of critical importance here Amiya”

“I-is this the reason why you’re here to pick me up? I am going later. But okay, thanks”

She was thankful it was Bedivere who came to check up on her, she doesn’t have anything against when Mashu or Chiyo does, as long as it wasn’t Wilhelmina since she drags her out of her room when she doesn’t respond the third time, that happens so bad, even Bedivere saw it.

“Permit me to remind you once more: I am a substitute for Miss Mash today, as such, please ask me for anything, I am your attendant, your butler, I am your servant in every possible sense of the word”

“Ah, um, okay, by the way, where’s Chiyo?” Amiya interrupted as he shortly finishes.

“I believe she was with Lady Marie and D’Eon, they must be having a tea, would you like to join them?”

“Hmmm, maybe some other time, she might be replenishing herself today and deserves to take a breather.”

“I see, since you trained in the simulator the day before, maybe observing and monitoring the remnants from the Singularities would be appropriate as well.”

“Maybe, but I am off duty with that, besides, Wilhelmina and Rene are doing that as of right now”

“Hmm...”

“Battling to gain something is what will lead to further growth for you, Master”

“Huh...I don’t know much about that”

“Battles for the sake of the Grand Order”

“...”

“Or rather...” he continued on, eventually these battles will wear her, or anyone in the team down. Psyche, Soul, in modern times, Nerves.

“Heh, modern, it’s medical but whatever” she retorted

Bedivere paused for a bit

“There is something that crossed my mind, Amiya”

“What is it?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t dare mention something like this to other, but in your particular case...”

“I’m sure HE would be happy about it, without a doubt since he is that kind of knight.”

“Hmmm. He...” 

“I think you must be referring to Bird boy.. Tristan?”

“Yes, my comrade, the man who is the epitome of freedom. And also the comment, Bird boy...?”

“What of it?”

“When you say he is the epitome of freedom, the first thing that comes to my mind is birds, they fly freely...”

“You have good analogy, I’m impressed by that. Anyways, I occasionally would accompany him and believe it is a wonderful place to relax. But please, keep that to yourself.”

Relax huh, never heard that word in a million years but I am overreacting Amiya thought as she spaces a bit.

“The Rec room is what you’re referring to”

He laughs and asked her if it is where she think it is, Amiya nodded and shrugged, “Chiyo, Rhion and I hang out there, usually we pick meadow alps like the swiss alps where we sing and copy scenes from the Sound of Music”

“Ah I see, so you seem to know it as well, let’s head over there right away, I will leave a note for Sir Tristan and perhaps, Sir Rhion?”

“Rhion is likely asleep right now, so it’s just us”

“Alright, let’s go”

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

The two arrived in the simulator, instead of a the Swiss alps she was so familiar with. It was completely different.

“The sea...”

“You’re less enthused than I expected, my apologies. I must reflect on my presentation”

Amiya shook her head, “n-no, no it’s fine. It’s alright. It’s good to take a breather somewhere else” her tone has a small bit of upset as if she was expecting something the long time only it didn’t leave up to her expectations.

“Ah, I’m glad you like it, but still it doesn’t make it any less better on my part. I will further reflect on my actions regardless.”

A simulator, a virtual creation of an environment of the outside world. They aren’t outside Chaldea and it would be a bit troubling if they went out since the endless winter is absolutely unforgiving Heroic Spirits or humans alike.

“The sea gives me a sense of peace. I hope it goes the same way for you, Master”

“Mm”

“Actually, I was initially skeptical about whether or not this would work. I accompanied Sir Tristan to watch him go fishing and listening to him ranting that was nothing but difficult to understand..”

“Haha, I see you take yourself as Tristan’s punching bag with his rants huh” Amiya mused.

“There was sincerely nothing to do except spending time just watching the sky and the sea. But surprisingly, doing so felt peaceful, or rather, calming to me”

“Ah, I see. So we are complete opposites but not really”

“Complete opposites?”

“Mhm, when you say the watching the sky and the sea is calming for you. I’d felt the same way except, I would watch the sky while lying down in the flowery meadow. Both is relaxing to us”

Bedivere chuckled and Amiya leaned closer to him, “maybe sometime, I’d bring you there someday where we’ll experience it together”.

The two looked to the sea until he breaks the silence.

“Amiya”

“Hm?”

“...Have I..overstepped my boundaries?” his tone. It was as if someone was confessing their crimes but at the same time, there was a tone of remorse and genuine solemnity.  “No, it’s fine. It’s nice to relax sometime and take a break away from all these..thank you, Bedivere”

“I should be the one thanking you, Master.”

“Please call me Amiya, I think I find the term Master a bit... uncomfortable”

“Alright, Amiya”

Amiya smiled and just stretched herself once again, trying to feel herself and the environment and slightly sides to his shoulder. 

“Would you like to try night fishing?”

“Night fishing?”

“Yes, did you know Amiya, Sir Tristan uses his Failnaught so skillfully to catch a many great fish..”

“Oh, but how do we get fishing gear then? Shouldn’t we entered the data before entering? I didn’t expect this to happen, I’m so sorry..”

“Ah, don’t apologize, Amiya. I requested Miss Da Vinci’s help on that front.” He then entered a few buttons on the multipurpose window whilst she waited.

“...Now I equip the extra item and we’re all set” he said. “Well, I’m sure there are other ways to do so but I don’t have much experience with the simulator”

“I think it’s enough, there are two of them and just teach me how to fish, if it’s alright with you, it’s been a while since I’ve fished and I completely forgot the basics”

After a few exchange with eachother, Bedivere guided the milk-haired girl, “the bait is already on the hook, so please cast it to the sea with all your strength, Amiya.”

“Eeyyy!” Amiya stood up, arching her back to further cast it away and hearing a small sound on the water surface. “Ah, I think it landed”

“Such bold and brazen movement, amazing!”

“Ahaha, it’s not that special Bedi” she appealed and looked at the sea again to detect any movement from the bait.

“But it’s really wonderful, did you any by chance tried fishing before?”

“As a child yeah, but it ended up so badly that I accidentally threw my teddy bear instead of the fishing line.” Recalling that said memory really takes her back where she was in a small lake with a family gathering, at such a young age of seven, she accidentally threw her bear and her having a total meltdown, thankfully it was recovered but the dress the bear was wearing was ruined. Looking back at it, it was so embarrassing. 

“Ah, is that why you take all your energy in casting the fishing line since you’re not holding anything besides that right?”

“You read me like a book, Bedivere” she then looked back at the sea, smelling the salty, calming atmosphere whilst holding the fishing pole. Bedivere said he will look out at the front so there’ll be nothing to worry about.

Amiya laid back again and let out a sigh before putting her hand on her nape, rubbing it to release the tension.

“...This is something that I’ve never said before...”

“..?”

“Nor did Tristan say this...but at times, I find myself thinking this: 

Tristan was torn between the two Iseults. And his fate led him to lose his life by the water. Or rather, his soul”

“Ah..” she remembered, she knew the story, it was how Tristan was poisoned and his last request was to see the Iseult he loved, but the other Iseult who was his wife lied to him about the sails being black instead of white.

Poor thing.. 

“Perhaps that is why he cannot be apart from the water. Even now, he could be waiting for that ship with the shining, pale white sail...” Amiya didn’t say anything but was about to open her mouth to say something when she suddenly jolted

“ha!”

“Something’s biting! It’s splashing. It must be a very big one..! It;s like Sir Kay swimming amongst the fishes!” the last part almost made Amiya chuckle but she is reeling back with her might, almost panicking.

“Almost there! The tug tho!”

“It could be a red snapper, mackerel, or even a tuna!”

“It could be all three!” 

“Alright, let’s reel it in, Amiya! And just like humans take pictures of the fish to record their greatest catches, we both can capture its data and show it to Miss Mash and Sir Tristan!”

“Add Chiyo and Rhion to the list!” she beamed

“It;s sure to make them smile!”

“Now reeeeeeel!” Amiya reeled with all her might with the help of Bedivere, her back was against his chest, close too close! She isn’t into those, yet and it’s making her cheeks burn

“Haa, it’s so big! The fish just leaped out of the sea” never in her life had she seen a fish so heavy and big.

Amiya walked closer to examine it until Bedivere held her back

“Wait..” the creature landed with a heavy crash, apparently it is a weird looking....fish?

“The fish we caught is...actually, not a fish.....”

The creature roared an eerily screech as it further lunged into the two. “Ahhh! T-that’s an enemy!”

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed...I must have made some kind of mistake when I am setting the system up, Doing something one is accustomed to can cause such trouble.. I pulled an all-nighter studying the manual...but I am no good at learning new things...”

“Stop the lamentation first Bedivere, for now, we need to get rid of this thing!” Amiya wasn’t able to bring her staff with her but she could put up small barriers to keep the enemy in place.

“Yes, Amiya, your commands! I am prepared to make amends for my misconduct, Or, I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deemed fitting, but first we have an enemy to fight!”

His demeanor changed as he prepares to fight the enemy lunging forward

“I swear by my Airgetlam that I will dispose of this monster immediately!”

“Let’s go, Bedivere!”

SWITCH ON - AIRGETLAM

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

DEAD END - AIRGETLAM

Bedivere slashed off the enemy to two before dying. Returning to normal, Amiya let out a deep breath, that was hell of a fight but it’s done. 

“...Please allow me to apologize once more. Even though it was only in the simulator, my most important job is to keep you safe, you being in danger clearly meant I failed my duty as a Knight. My efforts were fruitless once again, I apologize Amiya”

“It is alright, Bedivere, as long as you’re fine, it doesn’t matter. I am not mad to begin with” she earnestly acknowledge and patted his head.

He blushed as she patted his head, “Ah, Thank you so much, I am  undeserving of such kindness.

Amiya and Bedivere looked at the now dead creature before them. 

“Now...it would be a waste to leave this, so let’s eat it”

“?!” did she process this correctly? Eldritch things are not her cup of tea so she was clearly caught off guard but then she lacks self-awareness, any point he would coerce her to eat this and it scared her.

“I have memories from my previous life. For instance, from Round Table analects, King Arthur, number eight: Food is all the same. Nutrition is nutrition, even monster meat!”

“Haa.....”

“Now, Amiya...repeat!”

“Ahhh” Amiya walked back, clearly freaked out. If anything, she’d rather starve than eat those kinds of things, she had seen people on videos eating live octopus, geoducks, raw meat, hell even a roasted alligator. Roasted. Alligator, one girl from China even had her face scarred by an octopus in her attempt to eat it alive. But luckily, this one is dead so the chance of it scarring their faces is zero.

Amiya backed away even more

“T-those videos, haaa” flashbacks of people grossly eating really stood out as she backs out further.

“What are you talking about, Amiya? Why are you backing away? Amiya? Amiya?”

(just imagine her face during the whole event after the battle)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After running for quite sometime (not even long, just 10 minutes) and him after her.

“...Once again, my apologies. But now I’ve learned more about your food preferences”

“..sea grapes are something I actually like” she revealed. They aren’t as bad, but at least she could live with it than those Eldritch-type things, he is into.

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind, in order for you to enjoy my dishes more in the future, I will continue to hone my skills” Amiya just nodded, tears and sweat are so visible and her expression seems like she’s simultaneously crying and laughing

“By the way...” she looked back as she wiped out her sweat with her handkerchief, “where are we?”

“The seaside we visited is Sir Tristan’s place of relaxation. Now we are at mine..” His expression softened as he walked past her. “It’s quite similar to a certain place in Britain”

“....A place of peace...well, admittedly this tranquil place is where I allow my mind to race. It is a place that helps me renew my resolve and reinvigorate my soul. So it may be a stretch to call this place a place of peace.”

“Oh. So like mine but in a different environment huh”

“Yes, as you mentioned, your place of relaxation along with miss Chiyo and Sir Rhion is the swiss alps.”

Huh, so he remembered, the smallest detail, something that you genuinely appreciated so much, everytime someone knew the teeny bit, their heart leaps with joy.

“Bedivere?”

“...” Amiya looked at him with concern, perhaps, her actions upset him earlier, “I’ll make it up to you what happened earlier. I’m sorry, I wasn’t educated in those types. I’ll promise to learn about them for sure.”

“No. It’s not about that, I was thinking of the past.”

“Huh?”

“Our Britain was a nation under constant threat of attack, never peaceful or stable...” He then explained that many fell victim to the chaos and he wasn’t able to save them. Then he told her about the Giant of Mont Saint-Michel. “A fearsome giant was wreaking havoc on the Mont Saint-Michel of Brittany”

Amiya carefully listened to him, her expression filled with soft curiosity like a child who wanted to see what her grandmother was knitting.  “...and kidnapped Princess Helena, the niece of the King of Brittany”. Helena. First thing that popped in her head when she heard the name was Caster Helena Blavatsky, though she didn’t want to sound disrespectful and just swallowed the thought. The atmosphere isn’t even a time for cracking jokes or a quip.

“Our King Arthur took Sir Kay and myself to hunt the giant down and rescue her..” His eyes lowered a bit but soon looked at her, “and on that quest...to be frank...I was of no help to the two of them. King Arthur and Sir Kay defeated the giant in a gruesome battle and brought some peace to Brittany.” Amiya’s expression slightly lit up, “and bam! It’s a finally happy ending right! At least you and your comrades brought peace” she chattered. But even her cheer isn’t helping.

“On the other hand, I...I could not save the princess.”

“Ah, so she...”

“Yes, by the time we arrived she has already been gone. I was too late, powerless as I am. All too little, too late. Princess Helena, known for her grace had her young and promising life plucked away, and we found only her pitiful corpse”

“Oh,” Amiya couldn’t believe what happened, she couldn’t imagine what guilt and pain he must’ve felt when he saw the once and beautiful, lovely princess, once filled with life and possibly cheeriness now snuffed out of her. It is something that reopened a painful memory in her past.

“I couldn’t save the people dear to me. First, Princess Helena. Then, the Battle of Camlann, my king...Arthur. I failed not once, but twice”

“...Bedivere”

“...This place..it reminds me of where Princess Helena drew her last breath. Every time I stand here, it reminds me...that I am a powerless knight...I am but a man who lost the two people he swore to protect”. Amiya grabbed both of his cheeks slapping it together causing him to snap out.

“That’s wrong Bedivere!” she asserted. 

“Amiya?”

“Just because you can’t save people dear to you doesn’t make you a complete failure! Do you think Helena would be happy if you continue to depreciate yourself further? Do you think your King or your comrades would like it if you degrade yourself further?! Not only I find it absolutely repetitive and annoying but I couldn’t stand seeing you this way as your Master.” Amiya then lets go, “I’m sorry, I kinda went off”

She looked away, “you see when you mentioned Princess Helena and about her, there’s also a memory that I repressed for so long, I don’t even share it with close people like Mashu and Chiyo”.

Amiya then placed her index finger on her lips. “Please keep this a secret between us, Sir Bedivere”

“You have my word, Master..”

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

It started back in Junior year of high school, when a girl her age was introduced in her class, her name is Rika, but she was bound to a wheelchair and the desk beside her was empty, since she was beside it, the teacher assigned Amiya to aid the new student to the assigned desk. She didn’t think anything of it until she saw her one day on the garden alone, drawing. Without a doubt, Amiya approached Rika and asked what she was doing, drawing flowers, Rika stated that the flower’s beauty lasts temporarily and if she were to pluck it, then it will hasten its beauty and dies much faster, the least she can do is draw and keep an original image even if it is not as accurate. Amiya was interested and seeing how talented Rika was, she was curious what technique she used and even taught her how to mix colors, soon their friendship blossomed, Amiya who was a recluse became more open and willing to help, she never had any real friends even if she has, she does not consider them close. The two shared same interest with one another when it comes to history and their love for retro things. Their bond grew stronger as time passes, it came to a point where Rika needed to be hospitalized due to an illness slowly eating her life away, she was due in operation and wanted to spend her time with Amiya before her operation. In reality, Rika had no friends and her grandparents homeschooled her before going out to a real one, Rika’s first and only friend. Touched by this, Amiya encourages her that she will make it regardless and gave her a charm to remember her by once she enters the operating room. Amiya went home in hopes the surgery would be a success. Only for her to learn from her mother days later that Rika had died during the operation, but prior to that, she left a small gift and a letter to Amiya indicating how much she appreciated her and the fact she was very patient whenever Rika would ask her questions and never get mad or irritated nor does she feel pity just because she was bound and with that, she is also able to make friends through her while Amiya opens up to people at the same time.

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

If it wasn’t for Rika, I would’ve not made friends along the way...

“I just had to share that, after your telling about Princess Helena, I learned that we both share the same parallels,” Amiya said as she clasped both her hands on her chest. “It’s because I don’t want you to feel the burden alone...her last wish to me was I hope I’ll be able to live my without fear, and every time I recoil or hesitate, I think of her resiliency and how she is able to withstand any obstacles in her way...”

I was scared, I didn’t know where I was going nor what I am going to do until I met her... and when she was cruelly taken away from her grandparents, from me, from my newly-made friends.

I know she will not always be around to help me...

The least I can learn from her was to move forward despite everything...

“Bedivere, you are not powerless, you stayed loyal to your King until the very end. Even undergoing those trials just to return Excalibur to your King and you call yourself powerless? Those were the most daring and valiant task you did!”

He blushed, but she still continue

“In the end, we will face adversaries together, that is a way to keep moving forward. So please, for your King’s sake...don’t belittle yourself anymore..”

This warmth, her hands touched his cheeks, cupping them together. “Thank you Bedi...”

“Master, no, Amiya...those words...” So assuring, so gentle yet firm, it was as if she was sharing her pain with him which was the case. He wonders why she would give those words to someone like him, someone who doesn’t even deserved to be numbered among the Knights of the Round Table but now...

Bedivere knelt down in front of Amiya, “w-wait----”

“Master, even if I am a powerless man who does not deserve to be included among the Knights of the Round Table and the words you have expressed to me, and yet, because of that----nay, I shall offer you this vow, knowing that my manifestation here with you was truly a miracle...

I shall protect you, Amiya, who fights these brutal battles to defend humanity’s future.

No matter how powerful the enemies coming to our way, no, no matter how cruel the fate we face may be....

Your life...your soul...your heart...every single part of you.

I shall protect you till the very end..”

Amiya dove down in his kneeling height and wrapped her arms around him, her eyes are swelling now, tears are falling, tears of warmth, assurance, happiness or whatever it is, someone willing to protect her and, the feeling is mutual too, she also wanted to protect her brother, Chiyo, Mashu or anyone dear to her

“Thank you, sir Bedivere” she sobbed through gross crying. She had never cried this far aside from her friend’s death who turned her to be a caring, open individual she is today.

“....Yes, Amiya

I swear I will live up to your expectations..”

and with that, Amiya kissed him on the cheek causing him to blush deeply.

[calliopechild]

At the risk of being someone with no medical degree handing out health advice on tunglr.hellsite, can I just say:

If you are having issues with depression, get your vitamin D levels checked.

For the last year or so, I’ve been wondering if I ought to get in and talk to someone about whether or not I might have depression, because I’d been having these slump days (or the better part of some weeks) that were really rough--no motivation, no focus, constantly tired, days that were just kind of this gray haze where working, eating, and hygiene were about all I could manage. Those days would just sort of feel like plodding through mud.

Back in August, I went in for my annual doctor’s checkup and mentioned all this, and my doctor suggested we check my vitamin D levels along with the regular cholesterol/blood sugar stuff. For reference, going off the range I got, your vitamin D levels should be somewhere between 30-100; below 30 is vitamin D insufficiency, and below 20 is vitamin D deficiency. Mine came in at 24. Obviously I was pretty damn low, so my doctor recommended that I start taking an extra 1,000 IU supplement a day.

Friends, it has helped immensely.

It made a noticeable difference even after just a month. I’m four months in, and feeling better has become the new norm. I have more energy and fewer days where I just want to sleep from noon until dinner. On the mental side, it’s easier to focus, easier to do things I usually have to psyche myself up for (like calling people or lots of errands back to back), I feel motivated more often, and tasks don’t feel as overwhelming. I’ve done spontaneous things--social events, checking out new places, etc.--that I normally wouldn’t have the mental energy for. I genuinely think it’s helped with some of my anxiety as well. I just feel clearer mentally overall; there have been some days I've looked back at a certain errand or assignment for work and wondered why I didn’t do it before or why it took me so long, because doing it looks easier from here.

And even now that we’re in the depths of winter, it’s still making a difference. Winter has been particularly bad for me in terms of season affective bullshit the past few years; there would be some weeks where I’d leave my apartment maybe once a week (I work from home), and it’d be only long enough to run necessary errands, get groceries, and then come straight home and probably crawl into bed to warm up. Some days I’d always feel cold, and while I’m a freeze baby and always run cold, at least half of it was just mental gray blahs. So far? None of those days. Hell, I’ve even gone out and gone for a walk several times when it’s been in the 40s, and normally the furthest I walk at those temps is from my car to whatever building I need to be in.

I have still had some slump days, when I don’t get much of anything done and don’t have the motivation to do so. But they’re fewer and farther between, and it’s not three+ days all in a row like it used to be. (And at least some of those are days when I’m just exhausted and can’t focus because of my hellaciously shitty sleep schedule.) But 95% of the time I just feel better, and it’s such a relief and I’m so grateful for it.

Now, obviously ymmv on whether this helps you, and you SHOULD! NOT! just start downing a ton of vitamin D. But if you’re having symptoms of depression, it might be worth getting a hold of your doctor and seeing if you can get your vitamin D levels tested. Everyone’s brain chemistry/biology is different, and what works for me might not work to the same degree for other people; someone else might have much more intense anxiety/depression, and extra vitamin D might not make a significant difference.

But I do genuinely think it’s worth a shot--a bottle of vitamin D supplements is a pretty easy way to possibly feel better, and it’s an important vitamin to get enough of regardless. I hope this could make as much of a difference for someone else as it has for me.

[migleefulmoments]

I'm a psych major - i seriously believe that the CC fandom is a cult - the hate they send is cult like mentality, they have something seriously wrong with them. Like mentally. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them got arrested for harassment of C or D or their partners.

Come off anon and chat with me...there is a lot to unpack and I won’t do it publicly.  

There is definite some mental health issues for in that fandom. I too keep wondering how far they will push it.  If not them, will some follower of theirs do something stupid because they are emboldened by the rhetoric that the ccc leaders spew? 

Whether the anons are real or the leaders of the ccc are sending anons to themselves-or it’s a combination of both- is unclear to me, what I do know is that the answers they are giving are consistently and purposefully misleading and often outright lies. 

Two recent examples of their outrageous lies; 

1. ANON::

“...have u seen naya say on the podcast that C was actually upset about santana's rant to kurt in that episode... because it was so real? it really makes u think that there was for sure one writer thay really did have it out for chris...

ajw720 answered:

That rant was 100% directed at C and it was divined by RM.  He is raging with jealousy towards C, he has everything, looks, talent, creativity, and D.  And things completely feel apart when RM realized C was genuine competition.  You realize Blainofsky was punishment to CC for acting out that past summer? He literally broke up the fan favorite couple on the show during the last season for revenge. And he despises C in particular. And that rant was not aimed at K/urt. It was aimed at C.  And I am glad N/aya commented on it, I can’t imagine how she felt being used on that manner.

FACT CHECK: 

Had she spent 2 minutes Googling this she would have realized that fact Brad Falchuk-not Ryan Murphy- wrote Jagged Little Tapestry thus invalidating her entire theory.

Everything she said about Ryan Murphy in this paragraph is simply her fantasy. Ryan is a very successful and powerful Hollywood writer, producer, and director. He is also gay and married with young children and Is a powerful LGBQT advocate.  His youngest son waged a 2-year battle with Neuroblastoma from 2016-2018. Neuroblastoma is a vicious form of childhood cancer that requires intense treatment. I used to be an pediatric oncology/bone marrow transplant nurse and this cancer and treatment is no joke. 

Ryan Murphy is very creative- he created and wrote episodes of Glee, 911, and  Nip/Tuck, AHS, ACS, and the upcoming The Politician. Check out his IMDB (X).  

He has won numerous awards and nurtured a lot of queer content including Pose which hired both LGBTQ actors and staff making it highly unlikely that he would closet a gay actor. 

She suggested Ryan is jealous of Chris because of his “looks” and  his relationship with Darren. There is nothing to suggest that Ryan is unhappy in his married, his attracted to much younger or is attracted to Chris and/ Darren.  Ryan called his husband, “His rock” in 2018 when talking about their son’s illness.  

Abby ignores  Ryan’s real life story, instead because it doesn’t fit her fanfiction character profile she created for Ryan.     

2. ANON: 

“....is it a known fact to the whole fandom that f/etusm/iarren is M/ia ?” (X)

chrisdarebashfulsmiles answered:

Hi, you know, i think (my opinion) that m/iarrens are ignoring purposely this fact. Like.. they have seen everything happening or showed here and decided to say “hey, you know? i don’t care”. Like they do with everything that is not part of the “D is straight” tale.

Let’s say that most of us have an idea about who the minions are (if they exists and i think i can tell you that maybe one is a real person)… but it’s irrelevant. 

The account still exists because, and believe me i don’t know how this is possible, the stans who follow that account are more “m/ia stans” (the ones that bother us on our blogs and in blogs dedicated to hate and mock us) than “D stans.  Let me tell you one thing: i speak with a good bunch of “m/iarren” that are D stans and we are on the same page, we worry for D. No talk of bullshit with them. Most of them understood that something wasn’t ok and they left their fandom, without becoming part of the cc one. Others are still here but more subtle and still respectful.

And I see why: because they want to understand what is wrong.

Anyway: D’s team gives her stuff, and this is one of the problem.

FACT CHECK:

In truth, there are very few “Mia stans” and a lot of “Darren stans”.  The CCCers refuse to listen to what their anons actually say. Instead they pigeon-hole people into categories based on their own needs and they need us to be unreasonable and obsessed with Mia rather than Darren for their self-righteous antics to work.   

Nobody that I am aware of is purposefully ignoring credible evidence that Darren is gay. None of us are looking at the “evidence “ and saying “hey, we don’t care”.  The fact is that very few people care if Darren is gay or straight and the “evidence” is nonsense. I have yet to year one thing that sounds credible. Anyone else? 

I did a very rudimentary look her claim that “The account still exists because, and believe me i don’t know how this is possible, the stans who follow that account are more “m/ia stans” than “D Stans”.  I sampled 280 Fetu/sMiarr/en followers: 

The vast majority were private accounts aka we cannot say why they are interested in the account.

4 or 0.1% called themselves Mi/arrens

10 or 3.5% listed Kl/aine or Gle/e in their profile

15 or 5.3% listen Darre/n or posted photos of him alone

1 or 0.03% was a Guns ‘N Hoses page DING DING DING we found the Mia Stan.   

Darren’s team gives her stuff? What exactly would Darren’s team need to give her? She is his wife. She goes everywhere with him. they own a home and bar together. 

Chrisdarebashfulsmiles had a rare moment of honestly when she said “Believe me I don’t know how this is possible”.  The truth is. it isn’t possible. it’s all made up.

Abby stuck her nose in to the conversation with this wisdom: 

ajw720

And a lot of the stans who refuse to accept it, need M because she is the only thing that makes d straight. And they know as soon as they start to question, they have to face reality

Um, no Abs, Mia is not the only thing that makes Darren straight. 

Darren is straight because he is a man who is sexually attracted to women....the very definition of “straight”.  

Darren has identified as straight for 9 years. 

Your confusion around his sexual orientation is simply your refusal to respect his word because you believe you know more than he does about his own feelings-however that isn’t a valid argument.    

His marriage to Mia is a personal decision to build a life with the woman he loves and has been in a relationship with for 9 years or so.

Let’s look at Darren’s own words over the years:  

2011 'Glee' Star Darren Criss Comes Out—As A Straight Guy!(X)

"I think it's more empowering to everybody, including myself, if I'm articulate about identifying myself as a straight male playing a gay character," the actor says in the Hollywood issue of Out magazine. "Ultimately, that's more powerful for both communities."

When Criss first got the role of Blaine, he admits that he wanted to deflect questions about his sexual orientation, giving reporters answers like, "It doesn't matter if I'm gay or straight." But he decided that it was better if he was just honest and straightforward. Besides, he explains, he owes a huge part of his identity to gay role models. 

2011 “Glee Star Darren Criss Dishes on Kissing Lea Michele & Losing Out To Cory Monteith (X)

I’ve been pretty overt about the fact that I am straight,” Darren told Billy and Kit. “I think it’s an important thing to be explicit about — not for my own sexuality, but just as a general statement that I am comfortable with my sexuality and very comfortable with the fact that I’m playing a strong gay character.”

I’ve been pretty overt about the fact that I am straight,” Darren told Billy and Kit. “I think it’s an important thing to be explicit about — not for my own sexuality, but just as a general statement that I am comfortable with my sexuality and very comfortable with the fact that I’m playing a strong gay character.”

2013 Cosmo Guy” Darren Criss On Glee’s New Chapter   (X)

Q: You're not gay; you just play gay on TV. Do you ever feel the need to assert your heterosexuality?

A: No. I know who I am. I feel bad for guys who have to flex their muscles. But hey, if that's the way to make yourself feel comfortable as a man—as long as it isn't antagonizing anybody—go for it. I'm okay with your getting a Miata to feel like a dude; just don't be a dick about it.

Darren Criss Will No Longer Play Gay Characters (X)

Darren Criss has decided that he will no longer play gay characters. Why? Because he doesn’t want to be a straight actor taking potential roles from actors who actually identify as gay, he said in a recent interview with Bustle.

“There are certain [queer] roles that I’ll see that are just wonderful,” he explained. “But I want to make sure I won’t be another straight boy taking a gay man’s role.”

2018 Darren Criss on Playing Serial Killer Andrew Cunanan in ACS: Versace and Passing as White  (X)

You’ve also played a lot of gay and queer characters. Has playing these parts informed how you think about your sexuality or gender? That’s a great question. God, we need like an hour. Sure, yes. Absolutely. It definitely has. I think being queer in general evokes more self-questioning than somebody who’s cisgender straight, because you really have to explore a lot of things about yourself that are meeting resistance on conventional social levels. So you have to go, “Okay, cool. Is this really how I feel?” There are questions that arise within yourself that doesn’t have to happen if you live in a hetero-normative universe. So in that sense, I think the journey of questioning oneself, which everybody does anyway — and should do— I admire that narrative. Even though I am not gay myself, or queer, I am a storyteller, and I love and appreciate the strength of character it takes for someone to get through that, whether it was difficult or not. I’ve been very blessed in my career with being allowed in the gay community. Again, as a cisgendered straight dude, that’s not lost on me. I don’t take that for granted. It’s been such a huge part of my life, even pre-Glee. I come from San Francisco doing theater, man. Like, I was raised by gay men. Not literally at home, but you know, as a young kid doing theater, my friends were these men and women in their 20s, driving me home and getting me dinner. These were my adult figures in my life, so unconsciously I’ve always had such affection for the life, whatever that means. So I guess inhabiting a gay voice is important to me because it’s a voice that I find inspiring. 

These are just two of the many lies the cc fandom tell their followers in order to manipulate them into believing the fantasies that means much to them.  

[mistergomo-blog]

Terrace

Guardian Angel!Yoongi

Rating: (T)

Word Count: 1810

You weren’t the human he was assigned to watch over, but he still checked in on you night after night

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night.

The day was a rather humid one, especially for the month of May, but it had cooled down to the perfect temperature to stand on the balcony without being suffocated by the hot air.

You were quite jealous of the view your aunt had of the city. Sure, yours wasn’t so bad, but it pales in comparison to a balcony that was a solid 6 floors above your own. The low hum of cars driving by and sirens echoing from a few streets down were more of a white noise than a nuisance from this level.

The lights you and your aunt had set up on the balcony made the mood. You had offered the idea since she’d had the light since Christmas and kept them long over the return date (after helping the poor woman get her cat back into her apartment). Being the ever so gracious woman she was, she offered to buy takeout as a thanks, leaving you to enjoy the comfort of her place as she went out to pick it up. You had offered to go with her, but she insisted on you staying.

“I can handle a few containers of pad Thai by myself,” She quipped. “I also need someone to keep an eye on Nabi.”

The fact that it was around dinner time made you stop and think. Yoongi usually visits you around this time, just to make sure you’re eating (something he won’t let you forget after he saw you fast asleep with your head in a psych textbook). But you weren’t at your own place, which made you wonder if he’d know where you were. With the fact that he was a guardian angel made you think it was plausible he could know where his human was.

But he wasn’t your guardian angel.

You sighed, knowing there was only one way to find out. Carefully, you lean on the balcony rail, knowing in its worn state there was a possibility of it giving out all together. A slight breeze runs through your hair that you realize wasn’t there before.

“Are you trying to avoid me now?”

You don’t bother turning around. There was a faint smile heard in his voice.

“Thought it would work” you grin.

You can hear him taking a few steps to stand at your side. Although painfully aware you could simply glance over your shoulder to look at him, you keep your eyes focused on the view in front of you, buildings and cars alike. You wanted to at least attempt a coherent conversation with him before you became a garbled mess of sounds.

And all because of his goddamn pretty face.

“My aunt’s cat ran away” you voice after a while.

“Nabi? The one with only three whiskers?”

You raise an eyebrow, a small grin growing on your face.

“You’re more observant than I give you credit for.”

“I mean, it’s not like I have anything else to really do.”

You would have shoved him, but you knew you’d just fall through, seeing as he’s essentially a Spector, as he described to you when the boy Yoongi was assigned to watch over, Jungkook, had thrown a baseball at him that shattered the window behind him instead.

‘The only way guardian angels can physically touch people is if they truly feel grounded with that person, or some shit like that.’ Yoongi explained.

So instead, you settle for an eye roll.

“Had to lure that damn thing back with a can a sardines we found in the back of my aunt’s fridge.” You crinkle your nose at the memory.

Yoongi exhales through his nose.

“At least you didn’t have to save a kid’s ass from burning his apartment down” he says dryly.

You snort, knowing very well about the shenanigans poor Jungkook, a boy roughly your age, would encounter on the daily. Yoongi recalled one time he had accidentally turned in a doodle of Steve Buscemi juggling pomegranates on a unicycle instead of his assignment to his art professor.

“I guess we’ve both got new ice breakers under our belts” you muse.

“There’s more where that came from”

You turn your head to look at Yoongi for the first time that evening. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t leap at the fact he was already looking at you.

The breeze tousled the blonde locks, making you realize how badly you wanted to run your hand through them. His eyes seemed to be looking at you, yet through you at the same time. They were piercing to the point that you wanted, even needed to look away, before you fell in deeper than you already were.

Now you really wanted to shove him.

“How did you know where I was?” The thought slips past your lips before you can process them.

Yoongi’s gaze is still trained on you when his lip curves up the slightest.

“Guardian Angels have this sense of aura or something” he shrugs. “It's how they know where humans are.”

“What’s Jungkook’s like?”

“A shitstorm”

You laugh, expecting an answer as such.

“He’s a college student, it makes sense”

“But yours isn’t like that”

You’re caught off guard a bit by that. Yoongi strolls past you, seeming distracted by something on the rail.

“This plant’s dying” He deadpans.

You turn, seeing Yoongi stare blankly at the potted succulent on your aunt’s rail. A bit distracted, you blink.

“Uh, yeah, my aunt’s not really the best plant keeper”

He seems to frown at that.

“Pity”

He waves his hand, making his way over to the other side of the rail. You notice out of the corner of your eye the plant springing back to life slowly.

“What do I feel like to you?” You ask slowly.

Yoongi shoves his hands into his pockets, staring out at the stars, almost wistfully.

“Grossly cordial.” He says flatly, but there’s no venom behind it. You say nothing, hoping your silence would prod him to go on.

“I could probably sense you miles away. Doing some nice shit for strangers. But the worst part is you do it because you want to. There’s no greed behind your actions. It’s something rather difficult to find these days” he says the last bit rather softly.

He looks over his shoulder, giving you a raised eyebrow, and you could’ve jumped over the rail at that very moment.

“Is that why you keep visiting me?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He appears to ponder the question seriously before shrugging.

“Maybe” he smirks.

Feeling a bit more brave, from either the darkness of the night or distance between you to, you ask another question.

“Is there another reason then?”

Yoongi hums to himself, walking towards you.

“I don’t know. But the fact that you’re cute helps the situation.”

You hope your raised eyebrow distracts him from the flush taking over you face.

“I thought you said looks are material?”

“I’m a materialistic guy”

You roll your eyes at that.

“You’re dumb”

“And you’re absolutely stunning”

You feel your heart forget how to beat for a moment. Slowly, you turn to face him, finding that he was much closer than he was before. The distance between you two was suffocating yet intoxicating at the same time. From here, you could see that his skin was nearly glowing.The breeze continued to tousle his soft locks. If that wasn’t breathtaking enough, his eyes trained only on you. It was all so unfair. It was unfair how pretty he was, how easy spoken he was, and how not real he was.

You could hear the faint noise of a siren in the distance. Glancing over Yoongi’s shoulder, you see an ambulance whir down the street.

“That could be for Jungkook” you say, gathering g your wits. “Maybe he set something on fire again.”

You see his upper lip curl for a nanosecond.

“Maybe. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

The distance between you is unchanging, and Yoongi doesn’t falter. You pray that he can’t feel the heat radiating from your cheeks.

“Maybe you should go check on him” you say it lightly, more to just gain distance between the two of you.

Yoongi still doesn’t let up.

“You know, there’s something else I’d like to do instead.”

His gaze drops from your eyes to your mouth so quickly if you had blinked you would’ve missed it. If you had been braver, you would have leaned in closer, and you would’ve met his gaze with equal fervor.

You lean back on the terrace further.

“I-“

The railing behind you groans, and before you can react, it gives out completely underneath you, unhinging from the wall. Your mouth opens to form a silent scream as your weight leans all the way off of the open terrace, threatening to send you over the edge. Before as much can be done, you grab at the closest thing to you, clutching for dear life, you nails digging into what feels like a suede jacket.

You open your eyes to find yourself clinging to Yoongi.

His arms are wrapped tightly around you, almost so tight your chest hurts, though that could be from your pounding heart. You look up to find him staring at you so intently, he could burn holes in the back of your brain. His breathing is (almost) as ragged as yours, lips parted as his chest rises and falls unevenly. He swallows, grip on you loosening as he guides you away from the gaping hole in your aunt’s terrace. You stand stagnant, yoongi's arms still wrapped around you, and waiting to see what he’d say. He sees how intently you stare at him now, so close your noses brush for just a moment, and he pursed his mouth.

“I should go check on Jungkook.”

In a flash, you feel yourself being released from his hold, and in another, he’s gone.

A cool breeze washes over you skin, through your hair as you feel Yoongi’s presence disintegrate into the air. You stand alone in the center of the terrace, breathing beginning to settle as you take in the events that had just previously happened. You turn around to look at the gaping hole in the railing that no longer exists. Instead, the railing has been reinforced, as if the accident had never taken place.

You look out into the city, cars streaming by in blurs, and you begin to realize how much you missed Yoongi’s touch. But you can’t wait on it for too long, because you hear the front door clicking open, and Nabi mewling loudly as a voice calls out to you signifying your aunts arrival. Instead, you turn around, making your way back into the apartment, but not before sparring a glance at the now lively plant settled on the terrace.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Woven Skull

Image Credit: Edel Doherty

In 2008, the core trio that make up Woven Skull began gathering together in the home of two of the members, set deep in the bogs and forests of County Leitrim: an empty, sparse area in the northwest of Ireland known for its myths of shee, tales of lake monsters, and calls of otherworldly beings in the still of the night. Several years experimenting with combinations of instrumentation, kitchen utensils, seashells, footsteps, chimes, recordings of cats purring and frogs mating led to their current sound which combines densely propulsive guitar, distorted mandola and endless cyclical rhythms. Woven Skull strip and scrape what they can out of minimal instrumentation to teeter on the brink of total sonic meltdown creating engulfing, raw primal drones and damaged rock manoeuvres. This sound draws on the influences of the combined backgrounds of the trio with Aonghus (guitar) and Willie (percussion) born and bred in Dublin and Natalia (mandola) born in Ukraine and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. Of their most recent LP, Isaac Olson wrote that it was, “More serious than Sun City Girls and more playful than Bardo Pond... a great introduction to your new favorite cult band.”

A selection of sounds that we brought to listen to in the van during our last tour.

Agathe Max—Gypsy In a Church (Greasy Trucker Records)

A Gypsy In A Church by Agathe Max

Agathe Max and I first met when we shared a bill at a Baba Yaga's Hut gig in London. She was with her duo Mésangeand I became completely bewitched by her playing. Live, whether with a band or on her own, Agathe creates a mesh of violin magic mixed through a mastery of pedals. No action seems superfluous. Her violin bow might thump off the neck during a section that is fed into a loop and you wonder if it was maybe an accident only to find that the build up of the rhythm created by that slight thump singularly drives the whole next passage. It is meticulous. The Gypsy in a Churchalbum is Agathe solo and acoustic with two long improvised tracks. It came out on cassette in 2016 on Bristol's Greasy Trucker Records. Side A is recorded in Bristol in St. Thomas's church and Side B is from St. Leonard's in London. The spaces creep into the recordings. It makes good driving music because you get lost in time as the violin bounces around the church walls and suddenly the day has faded, twilight is spilling across the sky and and that night's venue is just around the corner. (Natalia)

Patrick Farmer & David Lacey—Pell-Mell the Prolix (caduc. Recordings)

Pell-Mell the Prolix by Patrick Farmer & David Lacey

A really tightly structured, interruptive and continually surprising concrète-ish composition by this duo of percussionists. Beautiful wood-block and dub segments deserve a mention. I found ‘Pell Mell’ to be more accessible than their earlier recording ‘Pictures of Men’ (equally worth checking out but perhaps more dense and angular in places). Ephemera of personal obsessions lumber up against indistinguishable rumblings, a passage is carved between the figurative and the unknowable. (Aonghus)

Chrissy Zebby Tembo & Ngazi Family—My Ancestors (Mississippi Records)

When you're stuck in traffic on the M1 between Brighton and any other part of the UK and you start to wonder why in the hell did we come to this country on a bank holiday, it's time to fire up the dashboard kettle, make a press pot of joe and throw on some Classic 'Zamrock' from 1974. This is hard rock coming straight outta Zambia, thankfully made available on vinyl at an affordable price courtesy of Mississippi Recordsin Portland, Oregon. This has become one of my Desert Island records. Sabbath infused riffs dipped in some 13th Floor Elevators psych with an explosiveness that's purely African. Before you know it, three tightly packed lanes of English Midlands holiday makers turns into three lanes with one else around. (Willie)

Tadlaouia—moul el koutchi rouicha et tadlaouia

I like to play the same albums both in the shower and in the van. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe these activities send me into the same zone? This tape gets a lot of listens in both places. I love the melding of Tadlaouia's voice with Mohamed Rouicha's string playing action. I know nothing of Tadlaouia aside from this album but I keep on eye out cause I’d love to hear more. I picked this tape up at a stall stacked floor to ceiling with cassettes. I choose it purely based on the cover. It coulda gone either way but sure, look at that shimmer in her smile. You know it's gonna be gold. (Natalia)

Angharad Davies, Tisha Mukarji & Dimitra Lazaridou-Chatzigoga—Outwash (Another Timbre)

Three super-focused improvisations for violin, piano and zither. Shimmering drones and creaks set against more melodic playing. Moves slowly from one area to another, acoustic instruments sound like electronics and at other times like themselves. Angharad Davies played at the same festival as us a few years back, performing a piece which consisted of her bowing a single tone while gradually unwinding the string accompanied by a really subtle tape element (or that’s what my hazy memory tells me), ruled! (Aonghus)

Miles Davis—On The Corner (Columbia Records)

Raw minimalist soul funk jazz. Totally stripped down. Enough hi-hats and trumpet wah wah pedal to keep you fuzzed out and yer head boppin'. It is such a ballsy record. But then again, Miles could get away with anything. Perfect for a morning drive on tour to get the brain aligned when you don't know what the day will bring. (Willie)

Creedence Clearwater Revival —”Sinister Purpose”

When in a vortex of stalled traffic that makes me feel like my life is melting into nothing in front of me, I like to put Sinister Purposeby Creedence on repeat (though, in fairness, any Creedence will do). Everything always just seems better then. And should the traffic never end and the van never move again, well at least there's Jon Fogarty to sound out our impending demise. (Natalia)

Bob Dylan—Self Portrait (Columbia)

Listen on Spotify

I’ve been listening to ‘Self Portrait’ a lot over the past while. I’m not hugely knowledgeable about Dylan even though I’ve heard a lot of the oeuvre over the years. A cursory google before I wrote this text tells me it’s regarded as one of his worst... not so sure about that. Opens with the sublime “All the Tired Horses”... Dylan himself not singing on it kinda blew me away as an idea for an opener when I first heard the album. Gets into weird country crooning... his version of “Days of 49” is another highlight. Things get patchy and weird but whatever... the “Blue Moon” cover is pretty funny. I’m second-guessing myself having just seen all the negativity surrounding it and started to spin “Blonde on Blonde” just to check... nah... I still think it’s good! (Aonghus)

Samandtheplants—Flaming Liar (Them There)

Flaming Liar by Samandtheplants

A few different names and guises flock from the incredible studio of musician, artist and producer Sam Mcloughlin. This album as samandtheplantsis such an absolute joy that you can have it on repeat for hours and it gets more interesting. Two disc set of almost purely vocals and harmonium. Very lo-fi, raw and total magic. Sam's Lancashire accent coming through and adding a genuine feel to the recordings as real English folk music without it sounding too twee or dated. I'd advise anyone to go looking for Sam Mcloughlin's work, including his sound sculpture work and his N. Racker project. (Willie)

‘Fort Evil Fruit’ Cassette Label

We here at Woven Skull are all big fans of Fort Evil Fruit. Label boss Paul has a keen ear for what's what. It's handy to stock up on all the newest FEF releases before a tour and gradually listen through them while zoning out on the revolving landscape outside the window. One of my favorite things that came out on the label in the last few years was Crevice’s debut album. The trio from Cork all play in a variety of other bands and solo projects, run labels, have radio shows and add to the general awesomeness of Cork City. Roslyn Steer's vocals on Black Box kept swirling around inside my brain for weeks after first hearing this so listener beware! It’s catchy business. (Natalia)

[rewritingthestars]

Part 2 of my group home au

Part 1

Warnings: suicide ideation, suicide planning, eating disorders, implied abuse

——-

Neil knows what the Foxhole is. He's a foster kid. Of course he knows what the Foxhole is.

The Foxhole Home is a last resort. David Wymack, the founder and caretaker, only accepts the worst of the worst into the group home. It surprises Neil more than it should that he's ended up here.

Hernandez, his social worker, has been talking to Wymack for over an hour now.

Neil sits in the kitchen, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie and trying to avoid eye contact with Abby, the Foxhole Home's very own nurse. Neil thinks it says a lot, that a group home would need an on site nurse, but keeps his mouth shut in hopes that she'll keep hers shut too. Betsy, the home's therapist, makes small talk over a cup of hot chocolate that she offered to Neil earlier. She's finally stopped directing questions at Neil yet still leaves them in the air for Neil to catch if he so chooses. Neil doesn't, and ignores both the women in favor of ripping a hole in his already torn jeans.

Abby keeps asking if she can take Neil's hoodie for him, which he only answers once with a shake of his head. It's nearing eighty degrees outside, and Neil is wearing a sweater under his hoodie. Partly because it's easier to hide his scars, and partly because he hasn't really been eating and the cold has started to manifest in his bones like a disease.

Hernandez and Wymack finish, coming into the kitchen and shaking hands before Hernandez makes an aborted motion at Neil as though he was going to hug him but thought better of it halfway through. Hernandez says something before he leaves, something that sounds like 'you'll like it here' or ' this is for the best'. Either way it doesn't matter. Neil doesn't care. Neil is thinking of how to kill himself and make it stick. Neil presses his had over his wrist, squeezing until it sends a painful jolt down his arm. If Neil wasn't currently planning his next attempt he'd be worried at how much comfort he gets from the pain.

"It's Neil, right? I'm David Wymack, though most of the kids here call me coach." Wymack finally acknowledges his presence, and outstretches his hand. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for Neil, but Wymack is just the right age and right build that Neil can't suppress his flinch. Wymack retracts his hand with a frown, before pretending it didn't happen.

Wymack rubs the back of his neck with a sigh, "There's two floors of rooms here. The top floor has five occupants at the moment and the second floor has four. Usually that would mean I'd put you on the second floor, but there's no way I'm gonna trust Andrew and his crew around you, so you'll be rooming with Matt on the top floor." Wymack makes a motion to follow, and Neil reluctantly gets off his chair to walk behind Wymack through the gigantic house.

Despite there being nine other kids living here, Neil has yet to see one. Neil wonders if they were told to stay away to make him more comfortable, but finds the idea too confusing to think about for long. As Neil follows David, he takes note of his surroundings. The second floor has four shut doors, most likely bedrooms, parallel to each other on the opposing sides of the halls. There's a bathroom at the far end, door wide open to show varying towels, hair products, and other supplies thrown hazardously around the room. The top floor is the same layout, besides that there's two bathrooms opposing each other, one cluttered in makeup and the other with scattered dirty clothes pouring out of the doors. It takes Neil an embarrassing long time to realize he hasn't heard noise on either floor and frowns.

"Where are the others?" Neil says, his first words of the day.

Wymack raises an eyebrow at him in return. "It's a Tuesday." Neil looks at him confused before remembering that most kids went to school at this time.

"Oh." Neil says lamely, and follows Wymack into one of the rooms without another word.

The room is more spacious than Neil would have thought a group home would offer. Half the room is obviously lived in, clothes scattered everywhere and the bedspread a mess. There's posters of bands Neil doesn't listen to and movies Neil's never watched. The other side looks barren in comparison, the only thing there being a dresser, a bed, and a few scattered boxes. Wymack curses at the sight of the boxes and it's only years of practice that stops Neil from flinching again.

"I told Seth to get this shit out of here days ago." He grumbles.

"Who's Seth?"

"Matt's old roommate. He moved into the room next door." Neil hears what's not said and bristles. Seth is moving so Neil can move in. Neil bets it's because the room next over was previously empty.

"I don't need a babysitter." Neil says coldly which Wymack snorts at.

"No offense kid, but you've been to the psych ward twice in one month, you can't blame me for trying to prevent it from becoming a third." Neil could blame him for making his next attempt that much harder to do, but Neil figures saying so will only be proving Wymack right and keeps his mouth shut.

Neil sets his bag, his only bag, onto the bed and resists the urge to pout like a child.

"Now I like to think I'm pretty laid back when it comes to you kids, but there are some rules," Wymack says sternly, "I do not tolerate drugs, and I do not tolerate bullying. I don't like to get involved with the drama but I will if someone could or is getting hurt. If you have a problem with any of the others come see me or Abby and we'll figure it out. If you're going somewhere I want to know where, and sorry to say, but considering your history one of the others will have to go with you. Don’t take it too personally, Seth and Andrew can't go out without someone else present for their own reasons too. If you hurt one of the others unprovoked, me, Abby, and Betsy will decide if you should stay or not. Other than that try to stay out of trouble and always ask for help if you need it for anything, whether that be school, people or something else. We have at least one adult in this house at all times and all of us are here for you. Got it?"

Neil blinks twice before nodding.

Wymack nods back. "Good. There's scheduled meal times but most of the kids don't follow it so don't be shy to eat whenever you want. You can't just go into one of the others' room without their permission but most of them on this floor won't mind regardless. I suggest staying away from the second floor until Andrew gets used to you, but I won't hold my breath. The first floor is everyone's space, and my office as well as Abby's and Betsy's is down there too. The living room has a TV and video games if you're interested, but Abby has this thing about making sure you do your homework before, so watch out for that.”

Wymack scratches his head, thinking before saying, "Oh right. This floor is co-ed. The room across yours is the girls' rooms, and so is the bathroom on their side of the hall. Will that be a problem?"

Neil stares at him in confusion. "Why would that be a problem?"

Wymack narrows his eyes at Neil until he realizes Neil is being genuine and shakes his head. "I'll take that as a no then."

Neil looks at Wymack, fidgeting with his sleeve. "Is that all?" Neil says when Wymack still hasn't left.

Wymack sighs, "Yeah I think that's all of it. If you got any questions, you can always come to me."

"Okay."

Neil thought that was dismissive enough but Wymack continues to watch him from the doorway. Neil soon realizes he doesn't want to leave Neil alone which causes Neil to roll his eyes.

"I'm not going to kill myself just because you leave." Neil says, annoyed, even though it's a lie.

Wymack stiffens at Neil's wording, but nods, making sure to remind him that he'll be up to check up on him.

Neil breathes, feeling his chest loosen now that Wymack is gone. Neil doesn’t bother to pull the small pile of clothes he owns in a dresser and instead shoves the bag with all of his possessions under the bed. For a moment he ponders hiding it better but rejects the idea. It’s not like he’ll have a use for it for much longer. 

Looking around he sees there's a small window in the middle of the room. Neil finds himself surprised that it opens, looking down and measuring the distance. It could kill him, maybe. It could also not and leave him paralyzed. Neil wonders if euthanasia is legal in South Carolina.

Neil rules out the window. There's too much of a risk of it not doing the job and Neil's already failed twice, and he wants the third time to be his last.

Neil supposes he could tie the bedsheets together to form a noose and use the window that way. But there aren't enough sheets, and asking for more would just raise suspicions. Neil tries not to get too discomfited and goes to check out the bathroom. He steps over the dirty laundry that makes up the floor and searches. He soon finds that there isn't anything sharper than the back of a toothbrush and frowns. What about shaving?

He searches some more and finds a small safe on the floor. Of course they lock up sharp objects. Neil would have to convince Wymack that he wasn't a risk, or he'd have to break into the safe. It's a spin dial though, not a lock, and Neil never learned how to break those.

Neil checks the girls' bathroom and finds it the same. He goes back to the guys' bathroom, frustrated. 

Neil has prescription pills, but they were given to Abby and Neil would bet money he doesn't have that medication gets locked up too. But they have to give it to him at least once a day. Neil can fake taking them, stash them away, and take them when he has enough. A month supply combined with over the counter medicine should be good enough. Enough to leave no room to wake up after.

Neil breathes. In. Out. He just has to last thirty days. Then he doesn't have to deal with this again. Then he doesn't have to deal with anything again.

----

[haeroniel-doliet]

gah another 5 am post eh fellas

fuck i really wanna do ballet. i really rarely become obsessed (if ever) with anything, but for once i’m so so so so soso wanting to do ballet. so bad. i know i might hate it bc im fucing not musical at all, so not in shape, so not comfortable or etc. but at least im 18,(wait fuck 19 now)  and not 45 trying to get in it all stiff and stuck and i think based on all the sweet positivity to adult ballet starters beginners and sure i wont perform professionally but fuck man i dont think i need that. i just want that grace and flexibility and elegance and gah itd be fabulous. i mean even now im pretending to look for turn out and walk around the house like they do in point shoes and i try fix my posture tothe advice by a ballet dancer youtuber who ive been watching so much of. i just i really wanna do it. 

saddest fucking thing is guys, that i could’ve had the chance to go to the fucking royal ballets adult absolute beginner classes. in london. i could have. fuck. u wanna know what happened? i found out about it like a month or two ago and was fucking psyched bc its one of those things that just is too good to be true. the best company in uk?? w adult classes? while im in london?? yeah id have to miss a few weeks bc. whoops i gotta go back up to do my exams,but i couldve at least done a few weeks, come back and done a few last so i’d have had the best opportunity to give this a go in the best environment and then have a kindling to go off with to other available ballets. and not start with some barely managing person in a shitty studio thing. idk. sure so i tell my parents so fuckin excited bc look! its possible! but yeah its expensive, wouldve been abt 90 pound w me being a student and id have to miss 3/10 classes. but still! thin of it gah its making me so sad happy. sad bc guess its now sold out. of fuckin course it is. i told my mom and she just was uhmm ohh i dunno i dunno, oh its adults i could do it, and thinking that maybe getting her involved would mean i have a better chance of going, dont care much for her company but if shed take it as a bonding thing hell, i’ll probably do better than her in class and minor confidence boost as well as if they all others are old old i wont be alone. and she could pass over what they learned when im up in scotland. Guess that was a fuckin mistake. she got all nervous and self concious and put it off with a we’ll see we’ll see about it im thinking. and making it a whole thing like instead of me wanting to go so bad and offering for fun that shed join me, as if im trying to pressure her into doing it and would only go along to make her feel better. uh.... fucking wrong! im so mad actually. bc of course, no matter how often i mentioned it she wouldnt take it seriously to even consider booking me in! no no of course not we’ll see. and then i check before im coming back, dreading and being right that yep. theyre fucing sold out. of course they are its such a fanstastic opportunity! my only fucking opportunity! when ever again am i going to live in london with weeks free to go participate in that? when ever again? never. theyre moving out of london this summer and fuck. just doing some research and the scottish ballet is in fucking glasgow. yes i was supposed to get there if i hadnt been so shit with studying for my exams. (sure i wouldnt be doing archery and wouldnt have all the other wonderful things i now enjoy in aberdeen but fuck its frustrating) and ofc. aberdeen seems to have: one shady dance company that offers ballet fusion. not adult ballet classes. another shady school that practices at robert gordons that have no website nothing. no info how to sign up or if they have adult classes or when its so stupid and weird. maybe ill have to contact them directly idk. sure my uni has a what seems to be a thriving dance society that i have a glitched out membership for. (its 50 pound a year and i have cerrainly not paid that) and i guess they do ballet on the side. but again from a glance around, looks its only intermediate. not beginners. dont think theres that many uni age girls who just wanna start ballet now. 

so it looks bleary. even in finland, i cant understand body parts in finnish so that might just be frustrating if i could even find a place that offers it. not that i’ll have long at all in finland. ill be there barely a month before heading back to uni and i come back holidays. if i wanted to take one of these eleven week courses, i think id have to geta fuckin liscence and a car and drive to glasgow 3 hrs both ways for a class once a week and that sjust stupid. im so fucking mad about this missed opportunity. like my muscles are itching and aching to do it. my legs want to work out in ballet positions. they just rly do. yeah maybe ill have to start doing barre at home from videos to try ease that, but its not gonna be the same and ill do it all wrong bc i have no teacher to direct me or anything. correct either. sure if i had done it and loved it i might still be mad that i have no opportunities to continue like i want to, but at least id have that expereince and could keep practicing at home based off of it.  i am genuinely upset okay. upset betrayed disappointed sad twitchy and ugh. sure tickets go on sale today to swan lake after exams. and by fuck will i go see it. and ill get all the background before it and know it inside and out before i see it (already kinda do) and i will love it. ill bemaybe more upset and more twitchy that i cant do it, that i cant be lie them and that rly sucks. i really really wish by some miracle the school would offer summer courses so that i could just, get myself after exams into one. also another frustrating thing not quite so pressing on my mind is how my dad wants me to get summer jobs, maybe even two. one here and one in finland. sure it should theoretically be easier getting it here, esp. since im 19 now and yeah. i could work in a cafe or store just to get money and have smth to put on a cv thats not 2 weeks. but i dunno i dont particularly want to, i was hoping in london i could get the most of it culturaly (considering ive been a pouting and sad whailer whos not done anything for the last two years) then again i have p much no friends here so if i did go work somewhere theres a slight chance thered be someone i get along with and could hang out w. or visit if i needa back in london. i dunno. things are weird. sure i could try get an admin job w nhs like some lady suggested but its one of those too much responsibilty things, consdiering im shit with work i kinda would prefer to do some physical job like stacking shelves in a shop bc im good at that. but thats not gonna help me in the future. money yes, but cv building or careers wise? nah. i should owrk in hospitality or smth i dunno even i can barely get thru my work to pass rn so  i dunno about job searching. im jsut a mess am i not. regardless maybe i should look if theres other ballet schoolsin london. be desperate, get a job and a ballet class going over summer and do art on the free time i guess. 

okay so fer now ive found a course for like fucking 156 pound thats a 2 day full days course that looks mad cool for having different classes to learn vocab and etc and then a bit of fucking swanlake like yooo.. best thing its in like july but thats also possibly bad bc its july 28-29 and july 30 we move out. man it could be cool tho. then they offer there as well a taster session p much every other week and then a full 8 weeks of class p near by to me. sure this is specifically taught by a man and id prefer a woman but, i guess. since its ideal timing and place. and i got wondering why thats 150 and the national ballet wouldve been abt 90 and i guess there i get concession and it wouldve been only 6 classes considering the dates they had off. i should rly ask if they do do concession bc 150 is a bit steep still. for 8 classes thats almost 20 pound for 75 mins. its kinda insane. theres probably more companies i havent looked at but there is one other thats like a drop in thing 10 pound cash each class and thats a 90 mins so it might be better. ofc. obv. fault being that its drop in so being an absolute beginner w likely a lot older adults idk how id fit in or keep up or get hte most of it. i think ill go try it once regardless. then when back in abdn ask around for taster sessions and beginner ballet. worst comes to worst i wait another 4 years till i get to a big enough city that they have a nice ballet company and somewhere i can live like an adult but also get in on adult ballet and enjoy myself. maybe my industrial placement city will have  a ballet company idk. 

all i know is that im a bit obsessed and everyone says to go for your dreams etc. and as much as i enjoy archery (slowly gonna dedicate to it) and aikido (though training can be frustrating and training with old men isnt that fun) and ice skating is another less of a dream but in the same realm as ballet. that im gonan get new skates for and give it a better try. i just think ballet could  be so fucking rad and im sad that its not so easy rn. and that my mom fucked me over. for that one course that couldve been cheap and amazing and mindchanging. to go to the ballet knowing what some of it feels like would be great. sure id love  a chance to do some after as well u know. ofc it sucks it might cost a couple hundred over summer to these hobbies and i feel iffy spending 180 on a quality waterproof jacket. sure. they spend it but, im v concientious and dont wanna spend much of their money esp cus im not making my own. i guess logically, i should put a bunch of effort to getting thru this term rly well without lies and get a sumemr job. that way, i could theoretically take loan from my parents  and pay back with summer job money w some left over to do as i like with (yeah i should save it for sensible shit but idk) also considering how nice i am my dad might not even want me to pay back. look i dunno. thats an idea. be good, be rewarded w ballet classes and an unstrained relationship w my parents, joyously move back to finland and start next term w a clean slate, hopefully more help and new determination into hobbies. maybe i wanna do 4 sports since i never did much as i was younger. tho sure, i did aikidos cousin taekwondo. ive shot a bow and arrow whenever i had a chance. ive skated since literally like 3 yrs old. and i used to take a form of dance a alot younger. sure no musicality but i think the exercises would be great for my knees and legs and butt and torso and posture. htese are fun sports since i dont like to work out. and since im not comfortable enough in myself to go swim. 

[eldricktobin]

When both sides share the same mantra...

Is the only difference how you act on it?

Say -without going over what I just watched... I wanna see if this works like this- you take “Power to the people!”

One side... takes it as a declaration of war on any governing body. A cry for anarchy, that all power should only reside in the individual.

The other side... takes it as a declaration... of unity. But not to rise up and rebel. To use their societal power to forge a unified and unifying socially responsible government.

At the end of the day... they both shout the same thing before diving into battle with each other.

Even works environmentally. Let’s take a meme.

“I Like Turtles.” One side... likes turtles and... must horde them -let’s go with that a sec-, the other wants them either in the wild, and protected, or maybe even in zoos and protected. 

Both love them some shelled reptiles. Maybe these two groups could sit down and try to reconcile their differences. But at the end of the day some will likely just change sides, fracture off to their own side(s), etc, ad nauseam.

And I find this fascinating. That you can -and maybe even should especially if it’s a game- add agency to a player character by how they interpret their groups mantra.

Of course I like to think myself a writer, surely only a hack it’s true. I also like to think myself a game master -definitely a hack. But I think my delight in this concept actually comes from playing a role in a guild -and nothing I crafted myself.

(More not naming names... I don’t wish to look and see if the MUD still lives, and I don’t read the source books anymore... so best to leave the names off. I *will* reveal what video I watched that got me all type-type-typey when I’m done.)

In this guild I got selected for a unique odd job... I was a sort of Living Entrance exam. New... “Body Guards”... had to demonstrate a few simple tasks.

1a) The right copy pasta of guild skills 1b) The wordsmithery needed to pen them on the fly.

1a or 1b or some combo of the options. The next item I put people through was a psychological battery. Everyone you could go to was supposed to have their own trial or test, and indeed you could skip my lil trial of intent. Myself I went to 3 different guild-members, and the guy who kinda had my job before I got it. But that was the point. You need to be demonstrably worthy... not just a swash and a buckle. So since I liked the emotional battery I’d been given -and it was close to the source material- I dove in with both feet and soon I had a fancy title.

2) A situational battery aimed at putting WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE TO DO IN YOUR NEW CHOSEN PROFESSION to make you think about just what you’re getting into. Just a gladiator looking for fortune and glory? The door is that way. A former gladiator looking for meaning in life through mastery of the sword, maybe themselves, and defense of another’s ideals? Oh. Now we’re talking. But first... well:

“You’re charge, leash holder, however you wish to look at them, enter’s your inn room with a determined look on their face. They’ve just told you that you might want to ready the horses... as they begin cleaning a knife of a murder’s worth of blood off of it. What do you do?”

That. That sort of thing right up there. Everything from stunned typed silence and determination to support in all things needed of them. Just about all answers acceptable. It’s a psych check -and let’s be real a role play check for a ROLE_PLAY=ALWAYS_ON guild.

I gave them plenty of time... something their potential new life might not give them a chance at -especially if their getting this bizarre ‘birds and the bees’-ish info-dump after being unceremoniously added to the guild roster.

We had some people pretty determined to get in no matter what, and others I’m sure wishing they’d botched something along the way. But it was fascinating. Even just wondering who was role playing and who was going “Oh... oh I forgot about this part... doesn’t the game have... oh... uh oh,” out of genuine concern that their MUDding time have a bit more skulduggery than they’d planned.

Just fascinating.

Like hearing about the Source of the Assassin’s Creed. And in a way I was not expecting. Up next a link so you too can have a gawk and a think.

Assassin's Creed: What Went Wrong? – Wisecrack Edition

[travelnortheastindia]

5 Reasons Why You Should Visit the Seven Sister States of India

In case you're considering visiting the Seven Sister States of India, don't spare a moment 

The Seven Sister States of India, otherwise known as, North East India Tour is renowned for its beautiful common scenes, humble individuals, and some fascinating nearby food. The Seven Sister States are home to a few clans who weave native texture that is not normal for anything you have at any point seen! 

We should discover more about the Seven Sisters. Who are the Seven Sisters? 

The Seven Sisters is an aggregate name for the conditions of Assam, Meghalaya, Nagaland, Mizoram, Manipur, Arunachal Pradesh, Tripura, and Sikkim. Also, in the event that you checked eight states, you're correct! Sikkim was remembered for the Northeast area of India after the mainstream name was begun. India's North East Package is renowned for its amazing scenes, variety, uncommon and interesting natural life which enraptured voyagers all around the globe. Each state has its own way of life, customs, food propensities, and that's just the beginning. 

I see myself as sufficiently lucky to have the option to consider this wonderful locale my place of birth. Today, I will talk about all the reasons why one should visit Trip to North East India in any event once in their lives! 

Nature in the Seven Sisters 

North-East India, the place where there is undulating slopes and fields with rich green vegetation and an assortment of intriguing verdure! These incorporate a few types of uncommon orchids as well. In all honesty, each state is pretty much as excellent as the other, each with its own way of life and convictions. Vacationers have not yet found Northeast India, which clarifies the serenity and quiet that isn't generally connected with India. 

Think chattering creeks, slopes covered with lavish woodlands, twisting streets with no traffic and just the trees for organization. Carry a book or a journal to doodle in, as your spirit absorbs the glow of nature. Crash into the field to be charmed by an unfamiliar cascade, or stroll across extremely old extensions made of living tree roots (Take a gander at this connection here, on the off chance that you don't trust me!). Sit by the banks of the strong waterway Brahmaputra (India's just "male" stream) and watch the orange sun set somewhere out there. 

In the event that you love to travel, head to the Dzükou valley, on the boundaries of Nagaland and Manipur. It is hard to portray the perspectives here in words. Investigate the image underneath, on the off chance that you don't trust me. Meghalaya, whose name generally means "The home of the mists" is renowned for its cascades, lakes and slopes. Mawsynram is the wettest spot on the planet and is a bunch of interesting little villas where it rains each day! Stop in Shillong, the capital of Meghalaya and complete some nearby shopping, in the event that you so want! 

Go wonder about the Elephant Falls and the Nohkalikai Falls in Meghalaya. Is it accurate to say that you are now arranging an occasion in your psyche, asking why you didn't think about the Meghalaya Tourism Packages sooner? A drive from Bomdila to Tawang in Arunachal Pradesh is a gala for the eyes, with sublime perspectives on the Gorichen Peak. Local people consider this mountain consecrated. It is additionally probably the hardest trip in the seven sister expresses that make up Northeast India. 

On the off chance that in Sikkim, you should visit the Nathula Pass which is effectively available from the capital city of Gangtok. Mount Kanchenjunga, the third most noteworthy mountain in the world, is noticeable from Gangtok. Manipur is home to the world's just drifting National park, the Keibul Lamjao National Park. Watch this video here on the off chance that you don't accept that such a spot really exists! 

Food and Drink in the Seven Sister States 

In the event that you thought Indian food was just spread chicken and chicken tikka masala, reconsider! 

India's North East Tour Packages have unmistakably extraordinary food propensities from the remainder of the country. Rice is a tremendous piece of the nearby eating routine, with many having rice for breakfast, lunch and supper! The vast majority from this district like to utilize negligible flavors with the goal that the newness of privately developed natural fixings can radiate through. They additionally really like to utilize new spices like coriander and mint to enhance their cooking, rather than depending on ground flavors. 

On the off chance that you love pork, Nagaland is your own image of Heaven, old buddy! Naga food incorporates an assortment of pork dishes like dried pork, smoked pork with greens, pork with dry bamboo shoots, among others. 'Akhuni' is a brand name of Naga food, and keeping in mind that this matured soybean glue isn't some tea, it absolutely is a nearby top pick! 

'Momos' or dumplings with fillings of vegetables, pork and chicken are a staple food in the North-East. With regards to liquor, many lean toward a privately fermented rice lager called 'Apong'. This lager is home-made and is liberated from synthetic substances. While the food of Assam is likewise inalienably flavor free, the cooking of Assam is somewhat unique in relation to the remainder of the area. Assamese individuals love "Khar'', a dish made of the cinders of sun dried banana strips. Fish curries made with tomatoes, occasional vegetables and privately got fish are important for each Assamese eating routine. "Xaak" or greens are well known and assortments accessible change as indicated by the season. It is uncommon to discover vegans in this locale, which is unexpected in light of the fact that North-Easterns love their vegetables. The Seven Sisters is home to numerous types of palatable plants that are nearby rarities. 

Take, for instance, the phantom pepper stew, when considered to be the most smoking bean stew on the planet. You would seldom discover neighborhood vegetables like the Elephant Apple and the Fiddlehead greenery somewhere else. Assam Holiday Package is additionally a worldwide innovator in the creation of tea leaves. Assam tea makes for a fantastic breakfast tea due to its solid energy. 

Culture of the Seven Sister States 

Upper east India is home to in excess of a hundred clans, every one of whom talks their own lingo and has their own conventions. Envision the extravagance that every clan adds to the in general social woven artwork of the area! 

Upper east India is customarily an agribusiness based district, and numerous celebrations commended are connected to the hours of reaping crops. For instance, the Assamese celebration of Bihu happens consistently. Notwithstanding, it is the point at which the rice crops are fit to be collected in the fields that the most commended rendition called "Bohag Bihu" is held. Bohag Bihu connotes a period of plenitude and euphoria. This celebration likewise sees troops of artists playing out the neighborhood Bihu dance, praising the collective. 

The Khasis, an ethnic clan in Meghalaya, hold a yearly five-day long strict celebration called KaPemblangNongrem, prevalently known as the Nongkrem dance. Local people play out this dance to assuage their goddess, to guarantee an abundant collection. Head to the authority government site to know more. 

At any point seen a bamboo dance, where men move numerous bamboo fights evenly and vertically, and ladies dance between them? Manipur's Cheraw Dance is a captivating encounter and should be knowledgeable about individuals to be completely keen to the huge expertise required. For the time being, placate yourself with this, however I'd skirt the initial 30 seconds to get to the genuine article! 

Weaves and Textiles in the Seven Sister States 

While in the Seven Sister states, remember to get cloaks, scarves and other apparel produced using conventional handwoven texture. These textures are a fundamental piece of Northeastern culture, with each state creating one of a kind weaves, frequently woven by hand at home. Assam is popular for its silk, which comes in three assortments: Muga, Eri, and Pat. Muga Silk is frequently called "fluid gold" since it is nearly as costly and is cherished as gold adornments for an Assamese lady. 

Muga Silk is to Assam, what Champagne is to the Champagne locale in France, with Muga Silk being an ensured topographical sign (GI) to Assam. Peruse more about Assam silk here. Materials woven in Nagaland are regularly a delightful mix of red, high contrast tones. One can without much of a stretch utilize these woven textures for coats, wraps and even comforters. These textures are promptly accessible to purchase on the off chance that you need to take a cut of the Northeast back with you! 

The weaving of materials in the Northeast is for the most part confined to the ladies of the house. Men aren't normally permitted to utilize the house loom, since numerous clans have a fantasy that a man would lose his virility if he somehow managed to begin weaving. 

Traveler Must-Dos in the Seven Sister States 

As though all the reasons above weren't sufficient, here are a couple of more should do encounters in the Seven Sister conditions of the North East India Tour Packages ! Assam is well known for its Kamakhya Temple, which has colossal strict importance. The yearly Ambubachi Mela, generally held in June, is an exceptionally foreseen occasion. Lakhs of travelers make the excursion from everywhere to adore at the sanctuary. Numerous sages just arise openly for this celebration, while deciding to stay in detachment for the remainder of the year. 

Try not to miss Nagaland's Naga Heritage Village! Likewise called the Kisama Heritage Village, it offers a fascinating look into the conventions and rich culture of the Naga clan. For a dreamlike encounter, head to the Tawang Monastery in Arunachal Pradesh, set up in the year 1681. Arranged at a tallness of around 10,000 feet, this is the second-biggest cloister in the