#also when i lived with my parents it was almost impossible to start my projects before a month from whatever con i was going to

[riwrite]

pros of living with another cosplayer: enables and encourages each other to work on our costumes and has fun doing it together cons of living with another cosplayer: forget to do my other hobbies

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 6)

After the last scare, everyone at home was very attentive to me again. I felt like a king with so much attention. My children brought Isaac and me breakfast in bed, cleaned the house, and were all day long looking after me to provide me with all the attention I needed. Maybe it was too much attention, but I'm not going to complain, it's not every day a man can feel so well taken care of.

Sandra went to live with Cal. The idea was that they would move in together later, but between the pregnancy and giving me some peace and quiet at home, they decided to start their life project together without further delay. The good thing is that since they live in the same town we see them all the time.

Patrick and Isaac are living a kind of honeymoon. The two families know about their relationship and his future fatherhood. After overcoming their initial doubts they are in that phase of unbridled euphoria. You can tell their youth by seeing them continuously snuggled up on each other in a corner of the couch giving each other kisses. It is not surprising to see them spending a night at each other's house. If they were in a normal situation, as parents, we would tell them that they can't sleep at their boyfriend's house, but of course, nothing is going to change anymore.

Three weeks later our older children returned to college. Sandra, on the other hand, opted to take a year off to be a mom. She and Cal are staying in town working at his parents' business, an upscale clothing store. Our youngest children are back in high school. All of them, including Patrick. We had second thoughts about sending him to high school or tutoring him and Isaac, but they both wanted to go on with their normal lives, even though they might have a hard time in school.

I could use a little relaxation at home to re-live this moment with some intimacy. Isaac still didn't want to have sex with me, though. If he was already afraid at the first warning, the last scare made him completely abandon the idea of fucking me again. For him it is more important to sacrifice us until the children are born. “We'll have many years to fuck wildly,” says the idiot. I can't wait, I'm pregnant, hormones are making me horny all day long, I need to fuck once and for all. But nothing, impossible, I had married the most strong-willed man in history.

The beginning of the school year was complicated for Isaac and Patrick. Not a single day went by without some hooligans calling them “faggots” and picking on them for having put on weight. And with the usual unconsciousness of adolescence, or out of sheer pride, both shouted to the four winds that they were pregnant and kissed each other in the middle of the hallway. Be that as it may, that almost suicidal gesture meant that they were never messed with again. In the light of this, these characters only dare with those who are afraid of them. Good for my son. I wish I had been like him when I was young.

At five months pregnant I had an appointment with the doctor for a new ultrasound. I called Dr. Caroline to also treat Sandra, Isaac and Patrick so they could feel more comfortable with someone they trusted.

To reassure them I had them come in before me, but they wanted me to go with them. Sandra went in first with Cal, and on the way out she was thrilled to learn that she was pregnant with a girl. Knowing the history in the family she was really scared that she might be pregnant with multiples, but no, as Dr. Caroline told her, it is not that common for women to have multiples.

Then it was Isaac's turn, so I went with him. When he came into the office he asked if Patrick could come in as well since he was his partner. Dr. Caroline agreed, it wasn't the usual thing to do, but she was fine with them going through this together. They both wanted me to stay too.

Isaac was the first to lie down on the gurney. He was the one with the bigger belly of the two. Even though they were supposed to be 3 months pregnant, he had an obvious belly already. The doctor put the gel on his belly and began to explore him. Isaac was shaking, Patrick took his hand. “Congratulations, boy, you're expecting three beautiful babies. Triplets”, the doctor told him. Isaac's face was somewhere between excitement and shock. Finding out you're expecting three babies at the same time at such a young age has to be overwhelming.

“Three kids? Patrick I'm scared, what are we going to do?” said Isaac. “Don't worry, honey, we'll get through this, and we'll get through it together. We can handle this and so much more”, Patrick told him and kissed Isaac on the forehead. When he sat up and wiped the gel off his belly he melted into a hug with Patrick. As mature as they are, sometimes I forget that they are just two little boys going through an experience that doesn't fit their age.

After a couple of minutes of cheering each other on it was Patrick's turn. The younger of the two didn't have as big a belly as Isaac's, although I'm afraid he won't get as much positive news as Sandra. As Dr. Caroline applied the gel to his belly, Patrick asked her if she thought they might be multiples as well. “Yes, it is very possible. The cases of pregnant men that we have documented, which are not many yet, tell us that the likelihood of having multiples is much higher in men than in women. The scientific community has a theory that having larger body sizes benefits the gestation of more babies at the same time”, Caroline replied. “I see”, Patrick said somewhat contritely. “But we'd better get it out of the way”, said the doctor.

After a few moments the last doubt was cleared up. “Twins, you're expecting two babies, Patrick”, Caroline told him. “Two babies, Isaac”, Patrick was excited and happy. I'm surprised he wasn't scared like Isaac. “Aren't you scared, my love?"”" I asked him. “No, I know it won't be easy, but you and daddy were able to raise twelve babies almost at the same time, and I'm sure Isaac and I will make it being together", he sat up slightly and kissed Isaac on the mouth. “I love you so much Isaac, we're going to make it, don't worry, together we can”, and kissed him again. This scoundrel has forgotten that Caroline and I are here.

When the two boys left the room to wait for me, it was my turn. The doctor confirmed that I was doing well with my pregnancy and that she thought the rest was doing me good to avoid further scares.

“You see, doctor, the rest is doing me good for the pregnancy, but not so much for my personal life. I don't know if you understand me”, I told her.

“You and Isaac haven't had sex all this time?”, she asked me in surprise.

“No, not once. He thinks if we fuck he's going to kill the kids or something”, I explained.

Dr. Caroline laughed. “No, nothing like that. Sex is not dangerous for you. You need to not exert yourself physically, but the hormones that sex would release would do you a lot of good to help you physically in this process. Sex is health, sex is always beneficial, tell Isaac to cut the crap”, and she burst out laughing again.

I picked up Patrick and Isaac and dropped them off at the high school to attend the last classes of the day. I came home and there was my husband teleworking. When I saw him I grabbed him by the shirt and immediately pulled him into bed.

“That's it, let's fuck once and for all!”, I told him so confidently that he was startled. “Dr. Caroline told me that we have to fuck a lot, that it releases substances in my body that will help me cope better with the pregnancy. That you're not going to put the babies at risk. OK?”, I told him.

Isaac let out a snort. “Fuck, why didn't you ask sooner, do you know how hard it's been for me to put up with me all this time? I'd see you around the house with your huge belly, your wide hips, your rounded thighs and that ass that looks like it's begging me to give it love. Let's not wait any longer”, he said.

We sat on the bed and he started to take off my shirt. It had been so long since I had felt this pleasure. His hands running over every millimeter of my pregnancy-tightened skin. He took off my shirt and moved down to my pants, which hid the biggest erection I've ever had. He laid me down on the bed, removed my underwear and took my penis into his mouth. It took me 10 seconds to cum and I still had a huge erection.

He undressed completely. He lay down next to me and asked me to mount him, to put his cock up my ass and ride him. I asked him if he was sure, I no longer weighed the same as I did five months ago, I had already gained 110 pounds since I got knocked up between the pregnancy, fluid retention and all the food my husband and children were feeding me. He didn't hesitate for a moment. He begged me to do it and I did. I felt his skin inside me again. He cum just as fast as I did for the first time, filling me up inside like I hadn't for a long time.

Why did we wait all this time? I don't know, but after today I'm sure it was worth it. But despite the good, I don't plan to wait that long again, we have to make up for lost time.

Go to Part 7

[fictionkinfessions]

LGBT Canons: *cracks knuckles* It is time for me to waffle again. I was always very gay (I had two other lives than the one I write about but they are too far in the past for me and too vague) and very outspoken about it.

However, I always struggled with dating, because I lived (live?) in turbulent times. In my past life - homosexuality was decriminalised when I was 10ish (I died at 34) and it was still treated as an illness with people sent to conversion institutions. I was incredibly lucky due to having grown up extremely privileged so while my father loved to dangle the threat of sending me away - he never did because he feared for his reputation and never found a way to do it in secret. I came out at 14, with my best friend (a woman) doing the same to her family on the very same day - our parents had us engaged before we were born and we were sick and tired of that. They didn't really believe us, so we asserted gayness wherever we went. My father got himself killed when I was 18 but before that - me and my friend discovered clubbing in illegal clubs. We went mainly to drag nights and we both dressed up, so my sole regret is my father never having seen that or having me stomp on his head in heels :')

*coughs*

That aside - I had only two boyfriends and my first one was a typical teenage love where we both were idiots and sucked at relationships but broke up due to random drama and convictions. My father walked in on us snogging and informed his parents and they shipped him off to university early. However, we have already broken up or rather he broke up with me - he wanted to marry a woman and have male lovers on the side and no - his potential wife was never meant to know. As far as I know, he ended up with a lovely boyfriend and I hope he kept him and had a great life.

My partner from 26 to two weeks before my untimely demise was a convoluted story. We dated because we thought we had the same goal of starting a family and just living a quiet life but he discovered later on that it was not the case. Still, we lived together and we argued every day. I have a low level of desire and he had his set very high so in the end - we opened our relationship on his end (I am very monogamous) and it had us better for a while but then he developed his fondness of rough sex that I disliked and a general dislike of me too. He dumped me in the end due to all of this and we were together for 8 years and lived together for 6. I miss him recently - we were horrid for one another but we knew our flaws and we were always honest with each other. Plus, he stuck around and kept choosing me.

I also pined after one man and I thought he might have liked me but I realised that I just wanted it to be the case so I did a whole lot of projecting :')

Generally, I wish for the same things as I wish in contemporary times - when times are rough, folks don't put much attention to romance and focus on fleeting sexual moments (I am generalising) so finding any men who were into romance was almost impossible in my past. It is more possible now but I gave up after a tragic relationship and I still pine after that one guy. I was less of a drag queen though - just did it briefly when I was in uni.

Sidenote: I also refuse to adopt any position/power dynamic-related labels because I am sexually punk ;) ... and they make me panic.

Thank you for coming to my laying down comedy show. Because I am laying down writing this :| (and I have a lot of gay feelings)

(#⚜️🔥🚬)

x

[armpirate]

UNDER YOUR SKIN || JJK || Ch. 14

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: You were awful on anything related to flirting, guys and sex. He was the perfect ladies man. You wanted to get rid of your virginity. And he was there to help you with everything you needed. You didn't have the best start, but that didn't mean you wouldn't have the best of the endings.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

This deal with Jungkook is like going back in the past, back to when I was in high school and every single day I had a new project scheduled for the next day. Oh yup, just like that. And he's like the typical teacher that looks cool with good vibes, but as soon as you're in his class, he starts being a pain in the ass you'd want to get rid of.

When the whole deal thing started I expected something else on his side. What exactly? I don't know. But definitely not this.

While still doing the "observing" task -which, by the way, I might've found my new profession and I'm thinking of trying luck by applying for a vacancy in National Geographic-, he also has asked me to try and deepen in my memory and remember how I socialized back in high school and college. According to him, it could help to understand why I react the way I do around males I think I'm into. But honestly, it only helped me to realize I barely lived my teenage years the way I should have. Always too focused on something else.

He lifts his gaze from the paper for only one second, right after I've complained about how that will be of no help. But he insists.

I roll my eyes, and lift one of my fingers so I can start counting.

—I had strict parents —I start—. I rarely was allowed to leave the house, and sneaking away was impossible. It was a fucking bunker —I excuse myself—. I remember at some point they even installed a locator app on my phone when I got the first one at fourteen. And, trust me, dealing with the consequences of deactivating it was way worse than doing what I was told.

—Shit.

He looks at me with wide eyes, surprised by that comment. And I can see by the look on his face how he's trying to understand why my parents would do something like that. Well, I guess it's all about control. It doesn't really surprise me.

—What about in school?

That's difficult to answer, because I don't really remember much. I only remember the thing with my parents because they kept doing that until I moved out to study.

—Hmm —I sit on the tattoo chair—. In school I was too focused on my studies —I shrug—. I had pretty good grades I had to maintain.

—Good grades and you ended up doing Fine Arts?

—You also did Fine Arts.

—How do you know? —he frowns at my reply, but quickly relaxes his face— Never mind. Soo —he finds the answer himself—. What I meant is: I was a donkey in high school, but you were good at it. People that are good at studying usually go for... other type of degrees.

—Well, having the ability isn't the same as liking neither of those degrees or careers.

And that's true. I remember how hard I had to fight my parents for them to accept my decision, and they still ended up being convinced any other degree would be a better choice. The mere thought of spending four years of my life studying something I didn't like demotivated me.

Thinking about it now though... Look where I am: nowhere, working as a barmaid and dealing with dudes that are too drunk to frame a sentence that makes sense.

—You moved to New York for college, right? —he arches his eyebrows.

I'm almost going to ask how he knows about that, but just like him, I remember his sister probably kept him updated on all the information she got from me the first day we met.

I nod, and he goes back to his drawing.

—You didn't use your freedom in college?

I let out a shaky laugh, playing with my fingers before I get up from the chair and start walking around again.

—Let's say I didn't really have the chance.

—You made no friends in college? —when I look at him, he looks genuinely concerned.

—My grandma paid for my studies, so I started working to pay her back. When people were doing extracurriculars or going to parties, I was heading to a call center to do the night shifts nobody wanted to do.

—And in class? —he insists.

—I didn't really feel like talking to anyone —I sit back on the tattoo chair.

More like, I felt like I'd be disturbing people if I tried to join their groups. The fact that I started the first year two weeks later than them didn't play in my favor. I only talked to some people because of group projects we were forced to do, but even then, our talks were limited to that.

Ever since I moved to New York, the only one I spent quality time with -and I considered a friend- was my grandma. But two years ago she died, and it's like I'm back to the start.

Which keeps making this whole situation weird. I've never really had someone to open up with, and here I am, talking with Jungkook as if three weeks ago we weren't on each other's throats at the minimum chance.

—Guys didn't try to make moves on you either? —I shake my head— You probably scared them away with that bitch resting face —I throw a death glare at him, which makes Jungkook point at me to yell:— Yes! That one.

—You're an asshole.

—Thank you —he finally gets up from his chair.

I see him moving around the room, passing by a wheeled tray filled with different colors of ink in tiny bottles. He stops in front of a shelf, and takes a folder where he keeps that same drawing. And when he opens it, I can catch a glimpse of several other drawings with the same style.

—I thought tattoo artists used tablets for that.

—I rather work on paper —he puts the folder back where it was.

He then sits back on the chair he was sitting on, and rolls its four wheels so he's just a few centimeters away from me.

—So? —I lift my eyebrows— What was all that interrogatory for?

Apart from reminding me how little I've lived.

—I don't know —he shrugs—. I was curious. Maybe it could be of use in the future.

—And why did we meet here? We could've met up at my place.

—We've met at your place the other times —he moves closer.

—Then yours.

He puckers his lips and frowns in a quick second, clearly uncomfortable by the idea. And I partially get it, we don't know each other that well yet. But he still has been at my place more times than anyone I've known.

—What? —I laugh— You have dead bodies in your freezer?

—No —he leans closer—. I don't feel comfortable bringing people over.

He doesn't let me insist, Jungkook traps my lips between his and moves them slowly. Before the hand on my thigh is able to move forward, I break the kiss.

—And I don't feel comfortable with whatever you're planning to do here —I murmur, with my eyes still closed—. Don't make me kick your motorbike again.

—Gotcha —he smiles against my lips—. But I want to keep kissing you.

And I'm unable to resist that. Whether it's his warm breath, his soft voice or his intoxicating scent -or a mix of the three-, my hands move to his neck to pull him back on a kiss. His long locks tickle on the reverse of my digits when I pull him closer. The kiss is soft and slow, and I can't help but think we're both just refraining ourselves from going deeper into it.

—Do you have plans for tonight?

—I'm meeting up with the girls —I try to keep my focus when his thumb starts circling my knee over my jeans.

—Girls' night? —I nod— That's nice.

—Yeah... —I move my gaze away, lowering it to my lap— It's a bit weird for me still. You know, having a group of friends to hang out with. But I like it. It's nice —when I look up to him, he's back at giving me a soft look—. What?

—Nothing —he simply shrugs, and moves the chair away to stand up—. Have fun tonight —he tells me—, and maybe try to meet someone. Or, at least, don't use that insecure control freak personality if a guy reaches out to you. Fake it 'till you make it.

—I'll do my best —I get up from the chair.

I've been here for almost an hour, but just now I happen to realize Jungkook is here by himself, and Mark is nowhere to be seen. When I ask, he just says there was no point for the two of them to be there if customers didn't start coming until four in the afternoon. And it makes sense.

Huh, that's why he was getting so comfortable just a few minutes ago.

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

first grade

my youngest is in first grade

which means I'm able to access my inner first grader

my inner seven year old very well

my teacher was named Mrs. Hart

and she was so grumpy to everyone

especially to me because I was likely bizarre

but during all my detentions for losing things

or having a messy desk or talking or not paying attention

we'd have the best talks and I slowly grew on her

I also started piano that year

my teacher for that was also named Mrs. Hart

I was not good at the piano and never became so

when it was time for pictures I had a grey front tooth

and my mother was always one who valued

my aesthetics over literally anything else

she had been very good at softball as a teenager

and I'd never been coordinated enough for anything

but video games and art

so when she invited me to play with her

I agreed because a child always wants to play

with a willing and present parent

and since her very inconsistent and hard won approval

was impossible to obtain being myself

or anything I was actually talented or good at

maybe this was a chance to finally make her happy

she threw that ball hard enough at my face

it knocked out my front tooth

but it wasn't hard enough to give me a fat lip

almost impressive how calculated that must have been

she was never good for thinking unless it was

to fuck someone else over to get what she wanted

without just trying to obtain it for herself

no wonder I looked for it in all my partners

it's the bitterness that hurts

that festering anger I forced down after

years of being treated like that turned into acid

and my heart tries to freeze up

so I don't have to feel it

enmeshment with someone who always

saw me as completion so she set me up

time and time again for failure

I hate thinking about her

because like living that life

there's nothing to be done or said

only a deity outside of me could redeem her

that's the rage I've been facing all summer

what's triggered when my ex husband

began treating me exactly like she did

undermining my ideas and talents

telling me not to sing because it was unpleasant

lying to people about me and my intentions

gaslighting me about my history of behavior

projecting onto me all the poison of her soul

she kept to protect someone else she loved

fuck those people and how they made me feel

I have managed and regulated the emotions inspired

the best way I knew how and I was not perfect

but my integrity has a far higher score

than those who have tried to one up me

in morality when I responded to their mistreatment

Andromeda chained naked and cold

to the rock of her own soul

with a sea monster to keep her company

because of the twisted vanity of Cassiopeia

she gave me her middle name of Christine

but it should have been Cassandra

no matter my honesty it was never believed

until even I couldn't believe it

which after thirty some years it's kind of nice

because now I don't give a shit who believes me

in third grade I came up with a story

two little girls who ended up seperated

when one moved to China with her family

her name was Sally but I can't remember the other

she bought a yellow balloon and tied to it

a letter and named it 'Speedy'

and he ended up delivering it

through storms and a journey and trials

when I told my mother about it she offered

to type it up for me on the computer

but when I read it it was no longer my story

she made all these changes and nothing

made sense anymore and the things I wanted

to somehow express as a kid weren't there

the things I cared about and the reasons that mattered

it was all her words and her tale

titled 'Speedy The Friendship Balloon'

I won an award for it and got to go to a conference

but the honors and congratulations weren't mine

they were hers but living through my body

the shame and the confusion and the knowing

of what it was supposed to be and how she somehow

rewrote my entire writing narrative with a story

with my title and characters but none of my words

I suppose as someone writing since I was a child

drawing pictures in stapled paper books

until dictionaries and thesauruses and my obsessive

study of them gave me all the perfect words for everything

to have that kind of betrayal was so deep to me

and I will not brush off her intentions

because her character behaviors shows her patterns

I don't give a shit if she had good intentions

it crushed part of me that I didn't know until now

likely made fresh gravel for a deep fortress of imposter syndrome

and even now I feel myself trying to somehow

take back all these words so I can hug them back to me

hide the shame I feel from this story

but instead I'll take a nap and cry and have compassion

for the bit of self that felt ripped out of me

from a place where I cared the most

the one safe place I felt I had in that life

embrace my vulnerabilities and remind that part of me

things are different now and if I write something

I'm actually going to deserve every and any accolade I get

physically though this is extremely uncomfortable

nervous system completely is completely dysregulated

and needs extra care to be soothed

[gdaymer]

A retrospective on Frieren: Beyond Journeys End after Recency Bias has passed.

I realised I didnt really care about the characters. The series started out almost as an Aesops fable compilation for living with grief and unlearning trauma, which drew me in at a vulnerable point in my life, after which it became a standard fare shounen with some added cute moments. The characters are somewhat bland and one dimensional which is suitable for fables and they grow in predictable ways due to Frierens wisdom, which is a cute parenting parallel that is easy to project onto for people like me who never received such treatment.

Frieren is the 1000 year old loli trope, which I think is “tempered” by her autism-coding to make people not view her as a sexual being due to stereotyping (which is also reinforced in the series). Also of note is that there are several references to her being sexually desirable, as well as there being a weird sexual dimorphism between the genders of elf; men are tall and built like a brick shithouse and women are lolitas.

The demons are in fact a very weird motif, as Israelites use the exact same arguments against Palestinians that the characters use against the demons (“they look like us and sound like us but have no emotional capacity and will only kill and hurt us if they are allowed to exist”). Even if unintentional on the authors part (the more I write the more doubtful this seems), I feel this is an important thing to analyse for obvious reasons, especially when demons initiating the desire to cohabitate is shown to be a ploy to attack them when they least expect it. Even when the demons are shown to genuinely have the desire to understand humans, it is shown to cause death and destruction to both races and it is explicitly said that cohabitation is impossible because of this.

I wish I hadnt been so drawn to this series but I know that this is how ideologies spread. I feel like Ive started writing an apology video script/essay but it genuinely feels insidious how taken I was by this series, and how anime fans have been also.

As a whole, it has been something that has changed my life direction in a good way while also being something I dislike because of the things Ive put here. Hopefully, I don’t need to buy a ukulele.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

I just read about your current projects, and they sound soo cool! Would you mind talking to me about them and i cojkd talk to you about my projects too and it could be a fun discussion...i completely understand if ur not up for it tho....just wanted to let u know the ideas of ur story sound super cool and if u ever publish them i really look forward to reading them... i dont do this often and my social skills are like a B- so i hope i didnt offend u i any way or over step.

Anyway hope you're doing well!

Hiya! My social skills are also honestly not great, so that's okay.

I am hoping to get both published, but as I still need to hook an agent, that's probably at least a couple years off for now.

You can sometimes see things I reblog or post about the books with the tags of the protagonists: Tiadane, for the first one, and Avel for the second, but I honestly have no idea what would even come up for either of those at this point.

This is my current working, mostly unedited and not perfect, query for Tiadane's book.

Tiadane has spent his entire seventeen years of life watching his city fall apart and listening to everyone tell him there’s nothing he can do to fix it so he shouldn’t bother to try. Once his neighbors die in a building collapse, he’s done watching and listening. Cinralen is an isolated city in the clouds, and no one who lives there understands the magic that keeps it aloft. So Tiadane leaves. His destination is Deermein, an old city founded by the wizards that helped build Cinralen in the first place. But by the time Tiadane arrives, wizards have been gone from Deermein for centuries and the people responsible want him and his wings gone, too. But one teenager in Deermein still remembers the legends his parents were killed for telling him, and he springs Tiadane from his jail cell and they escape Deermein to find the last shreds of magic on earth. But outside Deermein’s city walls, they find themselves facing down centuries of history, fragmented cultural heritages, and the impossible task of rebuilding something that was stamped out long ago—or at least building something new from the ashes.

This is the project I mentioned this morning wanting to kind of sprint through the last 100 pages or so of revisions to get this done soon, then off to a CP that...I don't have yet, so that's another thing I gotta figure out.

As for Avel's book,it's currently on hold around 25k words. I realized I was at a point where I really need to sit down and untangle the threads I've started spinning for it and figure out what to do with what I have and how to use things, but I haven't had time with the revisions and work, etc. It needs some thought, and I hope to be back to it soon, because those 25k words were tons of fun to write, came very quickly, and I have high hopes for that project.

This is some of the last bits I worked on for Avel's project, to give you an idea of...well, him.

“You play violin.” Avel snorted, clapping a hand over his neck where he knew his violin hickey was. “It could be a viola.” “It could, but it’s not.” The stranger grinned. “You’re pretty well known on the concert circuit, Avel Martins. I know what instrument you play.” Avel startled and his cane jangled against his back inside his backpack. He’d never been recognized before—or if he had, no one had bothered to say anything. He must have seen Avel’s collapse. People would recognize his face now. People would remember him, and not for his music. The stranger offered a hand. “Rafael DeMarco. Don’t worry, I’m not looking for an autograph.” Rafael tilted his head just slightly so his grin was almost even. “You look different when you’re not dressed for the stage. You have piercings.” Avel tugged at his right ear, where two hoops were threaded through his lobe and a silver stud marked the cartilage. He had more in the left. They came out when he was preparing for stage or promotional head shots, and went right back in after. His Doc Martens, black jeans, a t-shirt his parents had paid too much for to ensure it was 100% organic cotton, and a hoodie made of the same were a far cry from ill-fitting suits.

And this bit, I guess.

The man nodded and stayed on the floor with Avel quietly, waiting until the second worker came carrying Avel’s violin case, his jacket folded over one arm and a wood cane with a curved brass handle. Avel took the case first and wiped his violin down carefully before setting it inside. He ran his thumb over the clasps, letting each one close with a sharp thump. If he fell again, it would be safe, at least. Then he accepted the help to his feet and propped himself up with his cane. It wasn’t his favorite—that one was at home, foldable black aluminum with a skull pattern and violin stickers over that—but the one he used for concerts matched his suits better.

So anyway, yeah, having fun with Avel's character design (and Raf's, for that matter).

So that's most of the longer projects I'm working on at the moment. I'm very proud of both right now, and Avel's book is still super new and raw so I tend to share less about it (whereas Tiadane's is close enough to be useful I'm a little less worried about that). I'm happy to hear about yours.

[rg-notes]

Operating with intention

I’ve recently been focused on the idea of being intentional. I define that simply as having a reason, a purpose, behind doing whatever it is that I’m doing. Once you go down the path of having a purpose, it’s almost impossible for the next step not to be a plan.

This last week my effort to be intentional has been most evident as a parent. My two toddler boys are curious, adventurous and emotional as hell, and being present and aware of how my reactions to those emotions are affecting them has been challenging, but rewarding. The more I think through it as a game of life, the more I get excited about the incredible impact I can have on who they become and the relationship we’ll form over their lives. Having a purpose, or a hope in many cases, is helpful, but having a plan is necessary in order to see your purpose come to fruition.

A plan can be simple. I’ll use and share the framework from Principles by Ray Dalio, shared in a recent post. Start with a clear GOAL. Write out your intention. It’s critical to get this one paper (or digital, just write it.) Then identify the top reasons you’ll fall short of your intended goal. I call these FAILURE MODES. Write those down too. Then write out a few ways you’ll avoid each failure, Ray calls this the DIAGNOSIS. Then with every ounce of intentionality you have, write the PLAN that gets your around the failure modes. Then just go do it. The simplest part to say, the hardest part to accomplish.

In my parenting, my goal was to help my son realize why he was sad. The failure mode was me getting emotional, typically frustrated or angry, that he was so emotional. The diagnosis was that I would react quickly to his emotions so my plan was to wait 30-60 seconds before doing or saying anything to him. Let him experience his emotions for a minute to feel what that was like. It let me breath and think through my intentions before just acting. My plan was then to ask him question vs telling him what to do/feel. “Whats going on buddy?” “Why do you feel this way?” “What can I do to help you?” It didn’t work all the time, but I’ll tell ya what, it felt good. And it was better than the alternative.

With this topic on my mind I re-listened to Oprah’s podcast w/ Dr. Shefali Tsabary about Concious parenting, which will challenge any parent to their core. One simple idea to noodle on from the convo is that the child existing to shape the parent vs the generally accepted hierarchical alternative of the parents existing to raise the child. When we rethink about the expectations that we project onto our children we realize we shape them to not only be “like us” but “to be the most perfect versions of us” which is not only unfair, but unrealistic and destined for disappointment. Nothing will make you want to be more intentional than when you realize you’re daily shaping the person your child will become.

I’ve also thumbed the pages of the Patagonia (yes the clothing brand) book called Family Business about the reasons behind, and the practices within the daycare & home school offered to the children of Patagonia employees. This is a gem, more as a reference, but I love it because it weaves together family life and business life philosophies that resonate with me. And, they are business practices I wish I could have been a part of implimenting in past companies, but will certainly seek to employ in the future.

So, back to intentionality. All these micro processes take time, but you must know what it is you actual want. You must be self critical and self aware that the way you “accomplish” is as important as what you accomplish. I personally found these lessons of intentionality which start out specific to parenting to be insanely practical in operating a company, in investing into companies, and frankly for any-one wants accomplish things in their life. There is something profoundly OK with your intention being a set of ideals, and your result set being the cumulative of where you’ve fallen short. In fact, that is the only possible reality.

Ryan Graves

[leavesfromthesametree]

2. Naomi Davis (they / them) Ecologist Photographed by Matt Horwood Tell us something about yourself that nobody else knows. I wish I could share something really exciting but I don't have any secrets! What do you enjoy doing in your own time? If the weather is good I help out with bird ringing and survey projects for the British Trust for Ornithology. But on those rainy days there's nothing better than getting comfy on the sofa with bottomless cups of tea, a craft project, and binge some feel-good TV (at the moment it's Gilmore Girls)!    Tell us a bit about what you do for a living. I work part-time as an ecologist, which means I survey wildlife as part of the planning development process. It's a nice mixture of indoor and outdoor work; I get to spend time in the field birdwatching or looking for bats, but I also have to spend time on the computer reading about protected sites and writing reports. If you had to pick one thing, what are you most passionate about? I'm definitely most passionate about nature, all of it. I love learning about wildlife because the number of different plants, animals, fungi and everything else is so vast that it would be impossible to know everything and we're finding new things all the time! The natural world is a continual source of artistic and creative inspiration to me; I love the fascinating patterns and colours you can find in nature, and that's before you get on to the weird and wonderful behaviour!   What makes you angry? Cutting down trees! Trees live long, slow lives and provide for wildlife at every stage of their growth. Even in death trees provide a food source for rot-loving insects like bark beetles, but only when they're left to decay naturally. The UK has some of the oldest trees in Europe but they receive less protection than some historic buildings, I'd like that to change. If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be? I would love to change our modern world's obsession with buying things we don't need. We live in a world where excess is the new normal, we can buy almost anything we want on a whim and bin it just as quickly. I'm worried that all this stuff, and the pressure to keep buying it, is clogging up our lives, our homes, and our brains. I think we could all do with a physical and spiritual clear-out!   Do you feel connected to nature and/or wildlife and if so, tell us a bit about when you first found an interest or felt connected.

I feel more connected to nature more than anything else and have always felt that way, ever since I was a toddler. My parents always encouraged outdoor activities like stream paddling, rock pooling, and looking for autumn leaf rainbows;. I had a really great childhood full of positive outdoor experiences thanks to them. Children in modern Britain are living nature-depleted lives, sometimes because parents are scared to go outside - it just goes to show that it's more important than ever to start those nature connections early in life.

*** Naomi Davis (nhw) Ecolegydd Llun gan Matt Horwood Dywedwch rywbeth amdanoch chi eich hun nad oes neb arall yn ei wybod. Byswn i’n hoffi rhannu rhywbeth cyffrous, ond does gen i ddim cyfrinachau!   Beth ydych chi’n mwynhau ei wneud yn eich amser rhydd? Os yw’r tywydd yn braf byddaf yn helpu i roi modrwyau ar adar a chynnal arolygon ar gyfer Ymddiriedolaeth Adareg Prydain. Ond ar ddiwrnod glawog does dim yn well na swatio ar y soffa gyda phaneidiau diddiwedd o de, prosiect crefftau a gwylio rhywfaint o deledu sy’n codi calon (Gilmore Girls ar y funud)!  Dywedwch ychydig wrthym am eich gwaith. Dwi’n gweithio’n rhan-amser fel ecolegydd. Mae hyn yn golygu fy mod yn arolygu bywyd gwyllt fel rhan o’r broses datblygu cynllunio. Mae’n gymysgedd braf o waith dan do ac yn yr awyr agored; dwi’n cael treulio amser yn gwylio adar neu’n chwilio am ystlumod, ond mae’n rhaid i mi hefyd dreulio amser ar y cyfrifiadur yn darllen am safleoedd gwarchodedig ac yn ysgrifennu adroddiadau.   Pe bai’n rhaid i chi ddewis un peth, beth ydych chi’n teimlo’n fwyaf angerddol yn ei gylch? Dwi ar dân dros natur, popeth sy’n ymwneud â natur. Dwi wrth fy modd yn dysgu am fywyd gwyllt oherwydd bod nifer y planhigion, anifeiliaid, ffyngau a phopeth arall mor helaeth byddai’n amhosibl gwybod popeth ac rydyn ni’n dod o hyd i bethau newydd drwy’r amser! Mae’r byd naturiol yn ffynhonnell barhaus o ysbrydoliaeth artistig a chreadigol i fi; dwi wrth fy modd gyda’r patrymau a’r lliwiau rhyfeddol sydd i’w gweld ym myd natur, ac mae hynny cyn i chi fynd ymlaen i’r ymddygiad gwych a rhyfeddol!   Beth sy'n eich gwneud chi’n flin? Torri coed! Mae coed yn byw bywydau hir ac araf ac yn darparu ar gyfer bywyd gwyllt ym mhob cam o’u twf. Hyd yn oed pan fydd coed yn marw maen nhw’n ffynhonnell fwyd i bryfed sy’n hoffi pethau sy’n pydru, fel chwilod rhisgl, ond dim ond pan fydd y coed yn cael pydru’n naturiol. Mae gan y DU rai o’r coed hynaf yn Ewrop ond maen nhw’n cael llai o warchodaeth na rhai adeiladau hanesyddol, byddwn i’n hoffi gweld hynny’n newid.

Pe gallech chi newid un peth am y byd, beth fyddai hynny? Byddwn i’n hoffi newid obsesiwn ein byd modern o brynu pethau dydyn ni ddim eu hangen. Rydyn ni’n byw mewn byd lle mae gormodedd yn gwbl normal, rydyn ni’n gallu prynu bron i unrhyw beth ar fympwy a’i daflu’r un mor gyflym. Dwi’n poeni bod yr holl stwff yma, a’r pwysau i ddal ati i’w brynu, yn gorlenwi ein bywydau, ein cartrefi a’n hymennydd. Byddai clirio ffisegol ac ysbrydol o fudd i bob un ohonon ni yn fy marn i!   Ydych chi’n teimlo’n gysylltiedig â natur a/neu fywyd gwyllt, ac os felly, dywedwch wrthym pryd wnaethoch chi ddarganfod eich diddordeb neu deimlo cysylltiad â natur am y tro cyntaf. Dwi’n teimlo mwy o gysylltiad â natur nag unrhyw beth arall a dwi wastad wedi teimlo felly, ers imi fod yn blentyn bach. Roedd fy rhieni wastad yn fy annog i wneud pethau yn yr awyr agored, fel padlo mewn nentydd, edrych mewn pyllau glan môr, a chwilio am ddail lliwgar yr hydref. Ges i blentyndod ffantastig a oedd yn llawn profiadau cadarnhaol yn yr awyr agored diolch iddyn nhw. Dydy plant Prydain fodern ddim yn cael digon o fyd natur yn eu bywydau, weithiau oherwydd bod ofn ar y rhieni fynd allan - mae’n dangos ei bod hi’n bwysicach nag erioed dechrau’r cysylltiadau hynny â natur yn gynnar mewn bywyd.

[dzpenumbra]

10/2/22

I started the day off a bit rough. I got on edge and frustrated over something small, then felt like the life just drained out of me. I slept like shit so it might have had something to do with that. Also started the antibiotics yesterday too. I don't know. I just don't like doing things that I'm not proud of. I just feel very obligated to be true to my emotions and work through them, rather than avoid or suppress them, because of how badly that has screwed me over in the past.

I'm very tired. I might try to just get to sleep.

I guess the only thing I want to share that's immediately on my mind is... well two things, I guess. The tincture... not sure what it's doing, tbh. I barely feel it and I'm almost to the highest dose. But my sleep had been getting steadily better.

The second is... I've been trying to barrel headlong through impostor syndrome and whatever it's called when you actually are doing work but you don't feel like you're working hard enough... whatever that is, that too. I have been neglecting the SketchDailies. I stopped working on Rimworld D&D. I paused the new Rimworld playthrough concept. I've been debating dropping livestreams entirely and just focusing on YouTube content. I'm just... very up in the air, I guess. The only constant right now is recording playing Session and snagging clips. The running plan is to do Instagram vids of one or two tricks that I'm learning/learned. Then release the full week of clips at the end of the week, like Friday or Saturday or something.

I don't know, I just... feel like I could be doing much more. I keep doing this whole like... being on the phone for 3-4 hours at a time thing, and the whole time I'm... not getting anything done. Like... I really need to train myself to draw when I do that shit instead of wandering around the house. Like don't get me wrong, I'm getting in good shape from just pacing in circles around my house for hours at a time. Might actually be burning too many calories doing that. So maybe I need to just train that. Or you know what... people could just come the fuck over to my house and chill and talk while I'm making art. That's a thing. I mean, they live 5 minutes away... And I'm moving in like a month.

It's so frustrating what the world has become. Maybe it's always been sorta like this, maybe the people I'm around just changed... I don't know. But what it has been in my proximity, it's been seriously impossible to get anyone to do anything. Make plans, get excited, work on projects, go on a damn walk, fuckin anything. I can barely get phone calls, honestly. I don't ever get texts. It's just so... sad. And then I end up in this weird situation where I actually feel bad about inviting people to my house, or to play games, or to go skating. Like me asking them is an imposition or something, like it puts them in the awkward position where they would have to give the implicitly obvious response "um... no..."

Ugh, I don't know what it is. But it got in my head pretty deep. And I'm really gonna need to recondition myself. I need to be around better people. And I had a mini-freakout earlier about that. How the fuck am I going to meet people my age when I move? Like... aren't they all parents now? Maybe I'm just sorta not really processing that fully on a day-to-day basis. I am single, in my mid-30s, never married, no kids. That's... not very common, is it? At least where I am, naw. I mean, I'll see a few people on dating apps that are also claiming that, but we never match. It's overwhelmingly single mothers, divorcees. Not that I have a problem with that, it's just... something I haven't experienced yet. I have never been a father. I have never been a husband. I nannied my former goddaughter for a little bit when she was real little. I took care of my dog and cat and tried to be a good father to them, once I finally grew the fuck up and took that role seriously. But never to a human that saw me as a father figure. And I strongly doubt I've ever been in a relationship with someone who liked me enough to consider marriage. So... maybe that's a barrier for me, and puts me in a weird category?

It feels almost like arrested development in a way, but the lack of distractions in this stage of life has left me cavernous amounts of free time, with which I studied, and drew, and played music, and played games. I learned. But I can never practice the things that aren't available to me, you know? Like... you can never get good at drums if you don't practice... drums. If you don't have a drum set available. You can tap on your legs and shit... okay, you know what, better analogy. You can't get good at singing if you never sing. There. I'm sure someone could find a hole in that analogy but I like it much better, it's very true. I can kinda tell when I listen to people sing what kind of context they are used to singing in. You can't practice projecting your voice if you don't have a space to practice projecting your voice in where it wouldn't be upsetting others. Like a practice space or a car or something. So that feels like my experience with social dynamics, romantic relationships and potential parenthood.

I want them very badly. I am scared of them now, which is very sad. It's a really big paradox in my personality that's been building friction. My anxieties and depression have been inflating a lot lately, I'm guessing my confidence levels are dropping pretty quick. It definitely feels like it, to be honest. The paradox I'm feeling is that I want more than anything to be a husband and a father, to have a family. My whole life I've wanted that. Now... I'm scared of it. I never have been in the past. I always was 100% all-in with it. I want nothing more than to be a dad to an awesome kid. Probably a daughter, but who knows. Maybe it's having gone through losing essentially a surrogate child. Maybe that's it. Fuck. I mean this shift is very recent... That would add up too... man, I'm really glad I journal now, I legit had no idea I felt that way.

I'm worried of fucking it up. I'm worried of having a kid who develops the same family stuff me, my brothers and my dad have. It's like... being very smart and creative... but also super anxious and withdrawn. I think it's a very likely outcome. I honestly think I could teach that kid more than anyone could have ever taught me... you know, because I put my entire life the past... 10+ years... into digging deep into the mechanics and meaning behind these behaviors. I have been exploring. The final frontier. The frontier of the human consciousness, exploring itself. I've learned a lot, I learn more and more each day. So... maybe it would actually be good. I guess I'm just sorta in-general scared now. I'm getting tired of it. Being afraid all the time is so draining.

I'm glad I wrote tonight, but I'm gonna wrap things up and try to get to bed early. This dawn to 1-2 PM sleep schedule is just kind fucking up my ability to get anything done in the world. I would really like to go on regular walks again. I miss being in nature, feeling my toes in the dirt, hearing the rush of water, the rustle of leaves, the birds calling and squirrels and chipmunks chirping. Tomorrow should be the day I get to revisit. Rest well.

[persephone-is-here-omg]

Hey, guys

I hate myself for doing this. And I was afraid this moment would come, but honestly right now I have ran out of options.

I'm seeing myself in the position to ask for donations from everyone who can afford to help, anything you can give would really help me.

My Paypal is maryef5493@yahoo.com

I will be completely honest about this, for transparency sake, this money will go to personal expenses such as pads, I can't use bar soap to shower because it irritates my skin so I have to buy shower gel which is generally more expensive, I also have to give my parents a monthly sum to help with groceries and cleaning products for the house, body lotion because my skin scabs a lot and that helps keep it under control. I also would like to pay off part of the debt I got in when I had to buy a new laptop last year because my old one stopped working. I've payed about a third of it, but still have to finish paying it.

As many others the pandemic had affected my flow of work, I work for a chinese company doing transcripts in different websites, ever since the pandemic started the projects that would normally come to us have been redirected to other teams that do them for less money. I live in Venezuela, which also doesn't help with hyperinflation running rampant and no plan in sight for possible vaccination, finding a different job has proven to be almost impossible.

I would be forever grateful if any of you could help.

My Paypal is maryef5493@yahoo.com

Edit (25/5/21): After yesterday, when I got rejected from that writing job, I still need donations. Is not ideal and I really would like things to get better soon, so please reblog this so others see it.

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and…” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

[jeriafterdark]

W#28daylldchallenge - Day 7.5 - Favorite Supporting Character from WOH / SHL - Xie'er

Masterpost here

In time for WOH's 1st anniversary on Feb 22, 2022, I'm going to be trying to go through the rest of this challenge!

Aside from Gao Chong, my other favorite supporting character has to be Xie'er, the Scorpion King.

He's an excellent villainous foil to Wen Kexing. Why? Because they are both orphaned, abused, abandoned, desperately seeking love in this life. They both are picked up by abusive parents (the Ghost Valley and Zhao Jing). They both are so twisted by their upbringing that they become extremely destructive and volatile. Where WKX diverges into becoming a protagonist, Xie’er diverges into full villainy. The crux of that divergence, I personally think, is love. WKX found love in Zhou Zishu, a reason to live and learn to live again. And through ZZS, he realized his love for A-Xiang, for Chengling, and even Cao Weining (begrudgingly I’m sure).

Xie’er never found love, he yearned for it, over and over again, giving Zhao Jing chance after chance to prove that his abuse is worth his pseudo-love. But he’s betrayed every time. And finally, Zhao Jing threw him under the bus during the siege of Cao Weining’s sect, and that was the last straw. He’d be the one to betray, to be in control of his life from now on.

This clip is the moment where I realized he was one of my favorite characters. It’s unfortunate that they had to cut like 5-10 episodes from the script due to budget issues because I KNOW that Xie’er would’ve gotten so much character development into becoming a full villain. But here, in this monologue, it’s almost just enough to show me that- Wow, this boy is goin bad, and I feel for him.

Li Dai Kun KILLED this scene. Xie’er starts off calm and controlled, but slowly you could see the cracks in his mask. Xie’er starts with unloading all of his emotional trauma, his feelings long held deep in his heart, his doubts and fears about Yifu. All the things he’s wanted to say, he finally says. And you could see him bounce from utter calm, to deranged and violent, to devastated and heartbroken -

“I did give you a chance… A lot of times actually. But you… failed me.”

He lets his heart cry. For his lost childhood, his dreams, his only chance at love. He’s become what WKX didn’t. A man forever strayed from the light. He’s lost again and about to fall even deeper.

He stands and takes a drink, regaining composure, and kneels before Zhao Jing again. In a mock toast, he forces him to drink with him, wipes his mouth with care, and accepts that even if Zhao Jing would never love him, he could still do this. Have this twisted relationship, make HIM - the former leader of the martial arts world, the man with all the power over him - finally submit. To give up his power. So Xie’er could finally be in control again. And maybe he thought that was enough for him, that’s all he could get in this life. But I think he still wants it. He wants the love he's seen between WKX and ZZS. But he knows it's impossible now. So he plans, if he can't have this love, then at least he could accomplish something his Yifu never could. And then maybe, maybe. Yifu would be proud of him. That's what I think he's thinking, even at the end of the story. Even when he's bitter and unkind, (and murderous).

Sighh, it’s a tragic story, really. I wish we could’ve seen it fulfilled - if only WOH had more sponsors, more nut companies!

P.S. Ordinarily, I would compare WKX to Zhao Jing, (this user already did an excellent job), but Xie’er’s actor Li Dai Kun did such an excellent job. Also he and Gong Jun are both very beautiful wicked villains lol.

I'm working on a bunch of projects for the anniversary, so I'll be updating this post in between those projects! See you next time!

[succession-thoughts]

not that i wish my life (or any type of abuse, really) onto anyone, but it's sometimes So Obvious that the things the Roys go through is just a story to some people. That they've never had any comparable experience in their life. And again, I am so happy that people get to be this, well, happy, but someone oblivious maybe shouldn't be righteous about their opinions...?

You hit the nail right on the head. It is extremely frustrating, to say the least. If someone has never experienced any kind of abuse or never been part of a toxic family structure, there is a language that the show speaks with its characters that they can’t comprehend. Of course, like you said, I am so glad that there are people in the world who haven’t had to go through this, and it was realizing that not everyone’s childhood was like that that helped me realize that what was happening to me was abuse and to then be able to break away from it. But people really shouldn’t talk about what they don’t understand. When people ask “why don’t the Roy kids just leave?”, that’s some victim-blaming bullshit. I am not excusing some of the terrible things those characters have done, but it doesn’t change the fact that they are victims of abuse. It’s not as simple as “telling their dad to fuck off”, both from an emotional standpoint as well as a practical one. What I have seen in my own life is that people often hear stories about emotional abuse, real life or in fiction, and they try to conceptualize what that feels like by taking their issues with their family/partner/friends/whomever, and like dialing it up to 11. If someone watches Succession with that lens, I can see how they could be like “how could anyone just put up with that? The Roy kids must be stupid or pathetic or unrealistic/badly written” which just, REALLY misses the point, to say the least. Abuse is an entirely different beast, especially when it’s from parents starting at an early age before a person has a chance to see who they could become without it being a presence in their life. I also think that it’s hard for some people to see past the wealth, not to mention the straight, white, and in Kendall and Roman’s case, male, privilege that the characters have, and refuse to acknowledge them as “victims” of anything, but I think that’s a very shallow read on the characters, and honestly of real people as well. The cliche “money doesn’t buy happiness” is bullshit when it’s used to gloss over inequality and when a politician is trying to convince you that “paying through the nose for basic healthcare is a good thing, actually”, etc., but I think people forget that it’s also TRUE, ya know? And I would like to point out that this is coming from someone who did “just leave”, and it was the hardest thing I have ever gone through in my life. I am not projecting my own “excuses” onto the characters; I know from experience how almost impossible it can be and how it feels, and also what it’s like to live in that mindset of denial and fear. Additionally, while I didn’t grow up in insane or even close to Roy-level wealth, I was pretty comfortable, and I could have stayed that way if I had continued letting my parents abuse me, and now I’m barely getting by financially and I’m at the best I have ever been in my life, so when I say money isn’t everything, I fucking mean it. (And before you say “but the Roys would never end up poor no matter what”, yes, I realize that, but that’s not the point I’m trying to make.) Even more to your point about it “just being a story” to some people, I felt that really really deeply with the whole “they should have killed off Kendall” discourse. It makes my blood fucking boil. I heard people saying shit like “it just makes the most narrative sense for him to die.” Characters in stories who have been crushed and manipulated and trapped and abused and suffer from addiction and depression end up over-dosing or committing suicide or dying in horrible accidents. That’s just what’s supposed to happen, it makes sense, in stories. Kendall Roy is a fictional character in a story, that’s true. But the people who have actually dealt with those things, people who have looked their abuser in the eye and begged them to let them out, people who have become so disconnected from themselves and other people and feel like they are “blown into a million pieces”, we are real fucking people. To witness people be so unaware of that reality via online discourse over a television show is very strange, but it was actually pretty eye-opening to me. I’ll end this by saying that I am so sorry, anon, that you’ve ever had to go through abuse, no one deserves that, just remember that you are not alone.

[0littlestwolf0]

All that matters

Yandere! Percy Jackson

Ship: Yan!Percy Jackson x innocent/fragile reader

Warnings: Violence, over use of powers.

Requested by: @xxscreamingcolorxx

It started off innocently enough. Way too innocent for that matter, maybe that’s what ignited him.

You were just the new kid in the big apple, someone who just moved there because of your parent’s job, and like any teen would have, your mind started wandering off, imaginating all the possibilities, all the movies that could come true before your eyes!

As for him, it was just another year in yet the same school (something he was really grateful for), only the first day and he was already counting the days until he could return to camp, to his friends.

Annabeth.

The name stung him like a bee, scratch it, it felt more like an angry wasp, but he ignored it, she was the closest person he had, who could actually understand him, and hey, he did love her, maybe not in the way she did him but for all he knew that was it for everyone, maybe that’s why people say that friends end up falling in love, more like a ‘next step’ thing than actual love.

Was that even real though? He surely didn’t know, but he was comfortable with what he had, and that was good enough, so he tried to shrug the thoughts away and finished getting ready for his day.

Soon enough he was already in his seat, headphones blasting a playlist he had spent the night downloading from questionable websites, and his head between his hands, doing everything in his willpower not to start a mess.

Naturally he didn’t notice someone new entering the classroom, he tried to stay away from most others, and people didn’t really like him either, much of a troublemaker, they’d say.

His lack of social skills made sure you got a seat on your first day. But he didn’t look up as you seated, his senses did however, perk up at your perfume, some wildflower and another thing he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it reminded him of camp, so he couldn’t help inhaling even deeper, he made the silent decision to start sitting near you.

And it could have been that way, you being your a scent he liked, just another person, but the fates had other plans, as did the first teacher, who didn’t waste a second on explaining the week project to be done in pairs.

His music was gone at this point, and he sighed, he didn’t like working on teams for school. Better yet, he didn’t like ending up with whoever else didn’t have a partner. Just then he felt a finger poking his arm, with a raised brow he turned to see you.

And your breath got stuck in your throat, he was probably one of the cutest boys you had ever seen, yet, his resting face (or so you hoped it was his resting face) looked just a combination between angry and dangerous. But you didn’t listen to your gut and talked “Would- uh... Sorry! I’m new and I was wondering if you’d like to partner up?”

Your voice had to be the sweetest thing, he was already starting to take a liking to you. You see, he isn’t the type of yandere to just get obsessed, it was your scent that drew him to you, yet, your willingness to spend time with him did make him feel better.

“Are you- Yeah, sure” he had to stop himself from pointing you to another person without a partner, not yet believing you’d want to partner up with him. But your enthusiasm changed his mind.

—

Before any of you knew, the day was over and you were waiting for him on your designated spot just outside the school, it didn’t take him long to reach you.

You saw his expression change as he crossed the glass doors, first a schooled glance to the floor, not allowing himself to even look at anybody else, you didn’t understand that, he didn’t look that strong but when you touched his arm you did feel hard muscle, then, why would he avoid trouble so much?

He didn’t seem to see you at first, but he did, trust me on that, he was just afraid of you changing your mind and would very much rather if you just left than the direct confrontation, but he couldn’t understand why, why the idea of you turning your back of him turned him inside out.

But of course you didn’t, you approached him with the sweetest smile on your face and stood right in front of him “Hey!” He couldn’t hold a smile at your voice, you just sounded so eager “Should we go to the library?” Were you always this eager? No, that seemed impossible, maybe you were just happy to be with him, that certainly made his smile bigger

“Uh- I mean- Sure” he was nervous, which made him want to laugh his ass off, sure he could fight gods and monsters but send a pretty girl his way and he’d stutter “I mean, I was actually thinking we could do it on the park” he finally added, the park was a bit far, but if there were any monsters he’d be able to deflect them easily on an open place rather than a dead-quiet-library.

“Yeah! Sounds good to me!” You agreed with a sweet smile and allowed him to lead the way “Just help me with the whole getting back thing, I still don’t really know the city” he nodded eagerly, almost as much as you had before, it was an excuse to spend more time with you.

Now this didn’t concern him as cheating or misleading Annabeth, for he didn’t think you’d like him, you see, he doesn’t seem to find himself as someone most girls, especially girls like you, would feel attracted t him, so even if he felt the this growing killer bees on his stomach every time he saw you, nothing would ever happen.

You walked with him through numerous streets, he took advantage of your lack of knowledge and took you through the long path, he didn’t even notice that he’d done that at first, but you were just so engrossed on your retelling of that X-Men movie, that he wanted to hear you talk like that for hours, suddenly, you stopped, your head held down “I’m sorry, I just get a bit excited sometimes” that sobered him “No, no, it’s okay, please continue, I really want to know what happened to this Logan dude after that”

You blushed but tried to hide it with a laugh, still looking down “It’s okay, I know I can talk a lot, and it might be stressing” you added, it was your attempt to stop yourself from boring the first friend you made on that school, but it made his blood boil, people just didn’t understand you fucked up the world was, fighting every day against monsters, losing friends on the way, and how amazing it was to hear stories from someone like you, someone without the blood that he had in his hands.

“Well, I like it, and I really need more context, so the future isn’t the future then? He just changed it and that’s that?” He understood the story, but sometimes making an easy question was the easiest way to make others talk.

And you went on, you arrived to the park and sat on a desk with him, taking your supplies and started working on the project, you were open, and gave ideas, still never shut any of his, you asked for his opinion every step of the way and used almost every idea he had.

That made him feel warm, you were most likely the first person to trust his ideas and hear him without a scowl or a frown, he couldn’t understand how would anyone shut you down when you talked? Every time you looked down and scratched your arm he noticed you were stopping yourself from over sharing.

Why would anyone hurt you like that? He just wanted names, they didn’t deserve someone like you in their lives, not one bit, they deserved to suffer for making you ashamed of your words. It surprised him, really, that rage boiling inside him, and how soon it’d be gone as soon as you smiled back at him.

And then it happened, a manticore loose in the park, running around and tearing people apart, he saw the moment your instinct kicked in, you could see through the mist.

He took Riptide from his pocket and stood up, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him down, holding a finger to your lips “Don’t” was everything you said, and he gulped, maybe you did care about him a little, his mind started wandering, maybe you felt as connected to him as he did you, he wanted to nod and stay with you under the table, to keep you from danger, but the only way he knew was by killing it.

“Please” you pleased “it’s going to hurt you” he laughed humorlessly, “Not my first rodeo” was all he said as a smirk took over his mouth and winked your way, maybe he also wanted to show off a little.

It was weird, he had never wanted to show off before.

But oh well, the manticore was closing in as soon as it’s nostrils flared up with the demigod scent on him, he needed to stop thinking and start moving, natural talent and years of training in camp made it easy for him, more like a dance than a battle, not that he’d ever been good at dancing, but you get the idea.

A move to the left, an angry manticore to the right, sarcastic comment out about how bad the sun had treated the manticore’s skin and a “you should really get some moisturizer for that crack in your skin” and proceeded to stab it directly on the belly as the manticore jumped.

And he laughed, allowing the rest of adrenaline to leave him, after getting so worked up with thoughts of people hurting your feelings, killing something felt really good. Maybe too good.

He turned to look at you, and his stomach dropped, your throat was being held tightly, lifting you ever so slightly from the floor by an empusai, were monsters working together now?

Of course it would happen to him, out of all demigods in New York.

Now he realized, his blood hadn’t been boiling before, but it was now, burning his very skin from the inside, the empusai giggled and he gave a step closer, then you were struggling again “Now, now, one more move and your pet dies”

Pet? Oh now it was personal, he didn’t understand his blind rage, maybe by an outside point of view, you had reminded him of what light was, even with the ability to see monsters you saw the good in people, that much he realized from your speech about Magneto being just misunderstood.

Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he once thought but you still tried hard enough to make conversation with him, you even tried in your way to keep him safe, and now, everything he’d seen was good and worth saving was being threatened.

It didn’t took him a word, just a small move from his left hand to the side, and now it was the empusai’s blood that boiled, literally, she started crying, he didn’t stop, all the fluids in her body boiled now, and started moving inside her, desfigurating her, she screamed and let you go, he didn’t stop.

You ran to him and he threw Riptide to the ground, instantly feeling the (now lesser) weight of a pen settling on his pocket, with his now free arm he grabbed you by the showlders and held you to him.

“Don’t look” he warned, grabbing now your head and pulling it to his shoulder, one last move of his left hand to the right and the empusai’s blood chocked her to death, streaming down her ears, nostrils and eyes, her mouth forever set on a silent scream as she fell to her knees and finally turned into ichor.

Just then did he allow himself to fully hold you, his arms wrapped tightly around your as your heavy breath tickled the side of his neck, your arms wrapped just as tightly around his waist.

He realized with guilt that you were shaking, you were probably scared of him now “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in a whisper against your hair, unable to let you go.

“No” you shut him and separated your body from his by merely centimeters, his stomach dropped “I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters” you said grabbing his face, forcing his wandering eyes to stay still on yours “Survival of the fittest, right?” You joked and he allowed a worried breath to leave his body, you weren’t treating him like a freak.

He nodded and you hugged him again, just as tightly, he still felt you shiver every once in a while.

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters,

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters,

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.

He repeated in his head over and over like a mantra.

You were too good for this world, and if that evening showed him anything was that monsters were probably going to come for you at some point, and he wouldn’t let them get even a step close.

He promised himself then and there that no one would ever harm you, monster or otherwise. After all, the gods owed him, he could get his way this once.

[sturchling]

If my other prompt is too mean here's this Mari resigns class rep Lila takes over chaos ensures gets pressured everyone ask her for everything no matter her excuses act ungrateful 2 her demands Mari's help Mari say screw you like a savage and Lila snaps and lashes out to the point she runs away like a lunatic

Ok, so I am slowly coming back into writing fanfiction. I did find a job and am getting settled into the new routine. I am still going to be slow posting, but I will be writing again. 

Also, about that personal writing project, I have more details to share now. I am trying to write my own novel now. It will be a fantasy novel, and I will publish through kindle direct publishing. I hope to have it done by the end of the year or early next year. If any of you want details, I would be happy to chat with you about it.

Without further ado, here is the story, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Things in the akuma class had taken a turn for the worse. Lila’s plan had worked perfectly. She had slowly chipped away at the class’ confidence in Marinette until they all thought she was the worst person in the school. Marinette had tried to stop Lila at first. She had gone to her friends about what Lila had threatened her with, but not many believed her.

 --------------------

The only people who still believe her are Kim and Nino. They had known her almost their whole lives, and knew Marinette wouldn’t make something like this up. They also knew Marinette well enough to know that she would never do the things Lila accused her of. Adrien also knew that Marinette was innocent, but he couldn’t say anything to the class.

  --------------------

He had tried at first, but Lila had been able to twist everything to her advantage again. Then she had gone to Adrien’s father. Mr. Agreste had told Adrien that he had to ‘maintain good relations with Miss Rossi, for the good of the brand’ and threatened to pull him out of school again if he failed to do so. He may not be able to help Marinette directly, but he has tried to warn her of some of Lila’s more heinous lies.

  --------------------

The rest of the class had become incredibly cruel towards Marinette. All they ever did anymore was glare at her and call her cruel names. Lila had succeeded, the class had all turned against Marinette. The only time they really spoke to her was to ask her to make things for them or to plan trips and events for the class.

  --------------------

It eventually became too much and Marinette had had enough. She resigned as class rep one Friday afternoon, and immediately stopped doing favors for the class. The class was furious that she wouldn’t make them things anymore, but was happy that they could get a new class rep now. One that wasn’t a bully to the sweetest girl in class. In fact, they decided that the sweetest girl in class should be the new class rep.

  --------------------

The Monday after Marinette resigned, the class elected Lila to be the new class rep. At first Lila was thrilled to be elected. She felt this meant that she was officially the queen of the class. But then the reality of the situation set in. She realized all of the work that the position entailed. She tried to give the work to Alya as her deputy. Alya said that she would do the paper work, but Lila would be able to set up much cooler events and trips than Alya with all her connections.

  --------------------

Of course, Lila couldn’t use her connections to create all these opportunities for the class. She had no connections to use. What is worse, Lila didn’t realize all of the extra things the class would ask for. Everything they used to ask Marinette for, they started asking Lila. She tried using any excuse she could come up with. She couldn’t make that banner they wanted because she was busy helping Prince Ali with his new charity. She couldn’t help make stuff for the bake sale because she was helping her mother with a new proposal at work. But nothing worked, they still demanded that she do all of this additional work for them.

  --------------------

And they got angry when Lila couldn’t deliver. The class quickly devolved into chaos. All the fundraisers didn’t meet their goal, and trips didn’t actually happen. Guests would cancel their appearances for the class last minute. The class began to act more and more ungrateful to Lila as she continued to fail as class rep. Lila saw her position in the class slipping with each passing day.

  --------------------

She even resorted to actually working, to try and win the class back. She started to apply herself to the class rep job and really try to get everything under control. But it was impossible to do the job on its own, let alone with the class asking for all of these additional favors. Lila didn’t understand how Marinette did it. She must have had outside help, there is no way she could have done all this work on her own, she must have cheated the system somehow.

  --------------------

Lila started to get angrier and angrier at Marinette. Marinette could have told her how hard this would be, and told her how she had cheated the system and made this so easy. When Lila saw Marinette go into the restroom alone, she made her move. She cornered Marinette in the restroom again and demanded she help Lila with the work. “You were the one who resigned and got me into this mess. You obviously had help, no one can do this job on their own. Since you caused all this, and you didn’t tell me who helped you when you were class rep, you are going to help me now. You will help me and make me look good to the class again, or you will regret it.” Marinette just looked at Lila with a blank stare. “How will you make me regret it? You already took the class from me. You don’t have any leverage here.” Lila got a smirk on her face, thinking she had the perfect plan. “Simple. I’ll make your parents turn against you. I did it with the class, I can do it again. If you don’t help me, I’ll go tell them how awful you have been to me and how their daughter is a bullying liar. Those are your options, so what is it going to be?”

  --------------------

Marinette just rolled her eyes, which shocked Lila. “Lila, my parents already know about you being a liar. After you got me expelled, I told them everything you have said to me. The threats, the lies, everything. They won’t believe you at all. You have no power over me anymore. Good luck as class rep. It was such a demanding position I never had any free time; I am glad it isn’t my job anymore. See you in class Lila, and I am looking forward to hearing your plan for the end of the year trip at the presentation later today. I am sure you have something amazing planned with all your connections. For your sake, I hope your plans actually work this time. Not sure how the class would handle another let down.”

  --------------------

Lila was shocked at what Marinette just said. While Lila stood in shock, Marinette walked around her and out of the restroom. Lila panicked as she realized Marinette was right, the class wasn’t going to keep letting these failures go. Lila went back to the classroom and was immediately bombarded by the class. Normally she would welcome the attention, but that was when the class was just fawning over her. Now, they were demanding more and more favors from her.

  --------------------

Lila quickly became overwhelmed by everything and snapped. She shoved everyone away, yelling, “That’s it! I’m done! This isn’t worth it! I quit being class rep! I only wanted the stupid job to take it from Marinette, but this is ridiculous. You guys can’t do anything for yourselves! You keep demanding all of these crazy trips and events that just can’t be done, I can’t organize those kinds of things!” The class is shocked by Lila’s outburst. Alya reaches out to the girl she considers her best friend, “What are you talking about Lila? You don’t sound like yourself. I am sorry if we put too much pressure on you, but you could organize these cool events. For a girl with your connections, it should be easy.”

  --------------------

Lila pulled away from Alya, looking completely deranged. “No, I can’t do it. I don’t have all these awesome connections. I lied. About everything. I just wanted to be the queen of this school, so I told you idiots what you wanted to hear. I never thought being class rep would be so much work. So, I’m done. My mom’s assignment here is done anyway, so we are going back to Italy. Have a good life, losers.”

  --------------------

The class looked on in shock as Lila fled from the class and out of the school. Lila got home and convinced her mother to end her time in France early. She told her mom that she was getting scared it was too dangerous to stay because of Hawkmoth and her mother agreed. Lila hated that she hadn’t had the opportunity to help Hawkmoth defeat Ladybug, but she had to get out of Paris.

  --------------------

The class was in shambles after that. Everyone tried to apologize to Marinette and get her to be class rep again, but the girl refused the position and made it clear that they weren’t friends again just because they said sorry. Mrs. Bustier’s class never fully recovered from the betrayal of Lila. Things did get better between the class and Marinette. They were civil to each other, but Marinette was still not ready to be friends again. Mrs. Bustier’s class was left to wonder how Lila had tricked them, and how they had let themselves be tricked. And they wondered most of all how they had let Marinette, the best friend they had ever had, get away.